tell her you lover her each day

“what do you want?”
i want a life that’s worth living
without a need to turn around
just to say, well damn,
i could’ve treated you better
if i held you that night
would it have made a difference
probably, a life without regrets–
“don’t regret anything you do”
she tells me with a kiss goodbye
and it’s just another one of those nights
when you used to be 15 and you look back
the sun hits you right in the eye you’re 24
now you get it, i understand now
“what do you want?”
i want a lover that’ll tell me no
so that i can respect it
no means no means no means no
i want a lover that doesn’t force
hearts to beat where they shouldn’t
i want a lover that counts the stars
backwards by the thousands
every night just to say
“shit, i almost guessed it right this time”
kiss me slow, kiss me slow
let’s save this moment
like old nintendo video games
and we were too broke
to afford a memory card
so we played it every morning
just to beat it in one try
you grow up too quick
you used to be 7 and
now you’re 24 and
you’re still worrying
about if you said something wrong
or if it was offensive
or if you are liked
or if you are loved
“what do you want?”
i want to be like the greats
that came before,
as a matter of fact
i want to be greater
than the greats–
they’d want an honest fan
i want to be the best version
of myself by following
your inspiration
into the sea where i can see
into hearts where i’ll make art
into the soul where i shall sow
into emotions where oceans dry
into teardrops the shape of your eyes
“what do you want?”
i want poetry to be written for me
when i don’t ask, leave it everywhere
inside of my back pockets
when i grab my cigarettes
and find you there–
read every word,
save you into this moment
love me when, love me then
love me back, love me now
love me forever, love me always
keep us inside your ink
bleeding deep into your pores
regrets as tattoos, a love made for two
a love like this, unconditionally sweet
kiss us slowly, let me feel it until next week
leave the words that you can’t say in person
leave the words under your tongue
leave the words trapped in your throat
pandora’s box, my melody
hope finally finds an escape
hope finally makes it home
hope is finally seen,
fairy dust, stardust
moon dust, phoenix ash
dragon fire, wildfire–
we burn the same
“what do you want?”
i want an alarm for every flower
that’s dying right now
so that i at least have a reason
for why i can’t sleep
when i think about your soft lips
“what do you want?”
i want to know why we look
for each other when we’re away
i want to know why we look
for each other when we’re together
i want to know why we look
for reasons to blame each other
i want to know why we look
for reasons as to why we hate each other
i want to know so much about you
even though we are just strangers
dear lover, oh lover, my lover
we are no longer the same
and it’s this thing called love
that makes life feel insane
“what do you want?”
i want to teach my sons
that a woman’s body is hers
and hers alone, so respect it
i want to teach my daughters
that if a man ever lays a hand on you
tell them that daddy put me
through karate class
and this belt is only white
because i bleached it
just for this day,
i’m about to kick your butt
“what do you want?”
i want my mother to gain more weight
she’s losing much, we’re running out of time–
do you think angels give us signs?
what about god?
is this a sign?
or is it just time?
do we all end up sad and alone?
i hope not, she’ll always have us
“what do you want?”
slowly, with less poetry
more eye contact, less texting
more voice recognition
talk to me like i’m deaf
sign language
your screams
how come you never listen to me?
i hate you. i hate you.
love her like she’s blind,
show up everyday with flowers
even if she hates them,
she will love them.
even if she hates you,
she used to love you.
“what do you want?”
“go on many adventures without me, okay?”
sometimes i want that exact sentence
to not be your last words.
“what do you want?”
sometimes i wish i didn’t have to write so much,
the thing about being in love with you is–
for every sentence, i remember the passionate
fibers you put into each letter, if the word love
has four letters, you made it meaningful
each one had meaning
l stands for lasting,
we didn’t last
o stands for one,
one mistake can make you apologize for years
v stands for very,
very much in my mind
like sands that fall in an hourglass–
drop by drop, hold you until we’re faded
but like all stories, the book has a last page
a kiss is like that page, we just read it too much
loved into it too much, should’ve left
but we stayed, should’ve ended it
but we wanted to make it work–
the youth remembers e
e for ecstasy
e for euphoria
e for evenly empty
e for everything
e for etchings
e for eternity
we remember the ways
to count backwards
for every star
there’s a dark passage
that we can’t return to
and we won’t
“what do you want?”
i want to write it all out
i want to write it all down
i want my first thoughts to be
how can i be a better person?
by being a better person
“what do you want?”
i just want this to make sense to someone
am i making any sense?
jumbled earphone poetry,
no rhythm
no rhymes
no schemes
no iambic pentameter
no lyrics
no style
no structure
just everywhere
like the sound of a heart
removed from a chest
that has been poisoned
because being love sick
makes a broken person
feel like an indention
inside of a paragraph
like a doggy eared page
because love makes us feel
this chaos that’s light enough
to drown out the sun
because love makes us crazy
my dark room is its own brand
of an asylum
because love makes us better
even if soulmates split
and we’re two strangers
all over again
back to the start again
because love makes us contemplate the stars
and how the universe made us into this
because love makes us angry
while simultaneously
forcing us into constant laughter
such a stupid naive kid
who thought that he could contain love
love isn’t meant to be forever
it’s meant to be freedom
you do something wrong
learn how to do it right
and in truth, there’s never black and white
when it comes to love
no who wears the pants
it’s about compromise
and we always learn things
a little too late, when you can’t fix things
you can only dwell on it,
so i’ve been dwelling
“what do you want?”
i want happiness
i want to be poetry
like a link that ties
my past to a red kite
fly it real high,
maybe i’m high
electrocute my lies
into soft butterfly truths
turn the ocean into a huge glass of wine
baby, i’ll have two
one for my apologies
and another for not loving you right
so when i can’t sleep at night
and i find out new ways to treat you right
when i fall in love again
i’ll do it better,
i won’t make her cry
and if she does
i’ll hold her until the clouds get jealous
the only tears running down those eyes
should only ever be rain,
let’s kiss in the rain
to the person i haven’t met
and this is a little long
and this may hurt to read
but if you’re reading this
and i’m asleep
right next to you some day
and you realize that i
have a strange philosophy
on love, love to me?
every person that i’ve
felt full and empty for,
the people that i have fallen for,
i still love them,
all of them
every bit of who i am
shaped by who i should’ve been
every bit of after all this time?
always a thousand times
every single dozen of roses
bought from the very
first moment valentine’s day
was invented,
i will be enough to love you,
even if i get sad from time to time–
and one day, on that day,
when i wake up
and you’re reading this
and i’m less sad
and we might even be happy
if i do read this later
when i’m in my early 40s
with some kids who fall in
and out of love just to live a little
and they need advice
about love poems and sad songs
i’ll tell them to learn the art
of letting go, but also
to save precious moments–
savor them.
dear person i will love some day,
what do i want?
i want to love you,
in the right way.
“what do you want?”
yes. you. the person on this app.
reading this shit poetry.
you’ve made it this far.
don’t stop now.
“what do you want?”
whatever “it” is.
i believe in you.
i am proud of you.
you are great.
you are amazing.
you still have purity.
you are still flawed,
but that only makes you
unusually human.
i love you.
a teacher of mine said
that if a human doesn’t have
human connection at least
once per day,
insanity will sink in.
this is my contact.
i am the first astronaut
to ever land on your moon.
my feet is on your moon dust.
i will plant no flags,
i will sow an idea.
you are beautiful,
remember that.
—  “what do you want?”
Shifted - Part 6, Chapter 8

Every Tuesday I’ll be posting a chapter from my brand new AU story. The  premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated  their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Previous installments…

Part 6 - The Honeymoon

Lallybroch, Summer 1763

Chapter 8

“Found anything?”

Claire squinted up at Jamie. “No, false alarm. Still looking.” She rose from her crouch by the stream, rubbing her back and stretching her arms. “I see you had better luck, though?”

A glistening string of trout hung from his hand, swaying gently. “We willna go hungry today, that’s for sure.”

He extended his free hand to Claire, and she took it gladly. “You want to stay another day, then?”

“Aye – there’s no rush to go back, Sassenach. The bairns and house can mind themselves for a wee bit.” He squeezed her fingers, squinting into the noon sun. “You and I – we need this time. Not that we don’t get time at home, but it’s different, now, ken?”

She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. They’d been at the cottage two full days now – two languid, heavenly days. They hadn’t spent this much time alone together since the Rising.

Claire hadn’t realized just how much she needed this time with him. No children, chores, patients, nieces and nephews, servants, or tenants to distract them.

They’d talked and talked and talked. About small things, shared memories, hopes, and dreams. Making love whenever they felt like it – near the fire, on the settle, in the grass atop Jamie’s plaid. The same plaid he had proudly worn since they arrived.

He hadn’t worn a plaid daily since Brianna was born. Seeing him in his kilt and plaid, a string of fish in one hand, the sun lighting his hair from behind, she stepped back almost twenty years.

“It’s nice to have the quiet. As long as I’ve got you to share it with.” She turned to him, and he met her smile.

“Aye. Wi’ ye by my side, mo nighean donn, I know I can do anything.”

They’d reached the cottage – Claire held the door open for him and stayed in the doorframe, admiring how the back of his kilt gently swung back and forth in tandem with his bootsteps.

“We’ve a bit of bread from Mrs. Crook, no? That should go well wi’ the fish.” Jamie knelt before the fire, wakened the coals, and started skewering the fish to roast.

“Sounds lovely.” Claire shut the door and strode over to the small table, laying their two plates side by side and unwrapping the last hunk of bread from Lallybroch. Behind her the fish sizzled and popped over the fire.

She surveyed the small room. It had been the ultimate decadence to leave their bed unmade this morning – their pillow in the center, her spare shift askew at the foot, Jamie’s trews in a pool near the head. It looked like a bed shared by lovers – not a respectable married couple.

Claire softly smiled to herself as she sank into one chair and watched her husband cook their supper. Just being in the same room as him – sharing each other’s company, sharing the same space – was enough. He was enough.

“Didn’t you tell me once that fish were not an unprecedented wedding gift?”

He turned to her, grinning. “Aye. Yer memory of those three days seems a lot sharper now than it’s ever been, Sassenach.”

She returned his smile. “Now that I think of it, they were among some of the happiest days in my life.” She paused, thoughtful. “Tell me – what were the happiest days of your life, Jamie?”

He extended one hand for a plate and she gave it to him, watching him remove several charred fish from the grate over the fire. “Hmm. The days the bairns were born, to be sure. The day I received my pardon and knew I was back at Lallybroch for good. The day William put on his plaid by himself for the first time. The day Brianna punched that Chisholm lad in the mouth for insulting ye.” She grinned and switched the full plate for the empty one. He lay the last of the fish on that plate and rose to sit next to her.

“Aren’t you missing a few?”

He eased his chair closer to hers so that their thighs and knees touched. “Weel, there’s the obvious ones, then. The day we wed. The day ye chose me, that first time at the stones.” He kissed her cheek. “Do ye think it possible to realize ye’d had a good day only years afterward?”

She squeezed his bare knee and took a bite out of one fish. “Mmphmm. I think so. What do you have in mind?”

He tore a hunk of bread and lay the rest on her plate. “The day I met ye – when ye mended my shoulder and tended to the gunshot wound.”

“Why would that be happy, Jamie? You were hurt, I kept you from bleeding to death, you were an outlaw in the company of your hostile uncle.” He raised a brow, but she interrupted. “And don’t tell me some nonsense about how you were happy to be with me, because despite what you’ve told me there’s no way you fell in love with me the first time you saw me.”

He grinned. “Weel, I actually fell in love wi’ ye the day after I met ye – and I’d add that to the list. No – that day, Sassenach, was happy for me because the path of my life changed. Had it not been for ye tending to me at the castle, or being someone I could talk to – I dinna ken what other kinds of trouble I would have gotten into.”

She cast her eyes down to her plate, focusing on a pile of neatly stacked fish bones. “And you like where that path has taken you, then?”

He nudged her chin up and met her gaze. “It led me here, to this moment, with you. Aye, I do like where it’s taken me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Tell me – what are your happiest days?”

“Besides the ones you mentioned? Well – I could say the end of the War – the World War. But I was so numb to everything then that I wasn’t really happy because it was over, only because it meant I could go home. And – I suppose the day I chose you the second time at the stones. And if you were happy on the days the children were born – I was happy on the days I told you I was pregnant.”

Slowly, thoughtfully he turned his body and rested his forehead against hers. He grasped her hands tightly. “And the day at the abbey – in the spring – when ye told me about Faith. Claire, I – I canna tell ye how much that little bit of joy healed me, after – ” He swallowed.

“Shh. Don’t think about that, not now – please don’t think about that.” She gathered him close and pressed his face into her neck. “Come back. You’re here, with me. Wearing your bloody kilt for the whole world to see. And I’m eating your burned fish and letting you get my shift all wet with snot because I love you, you idiot.”

He laughed softly and raised his head to kiss her for a long while.

“Ye taste like fish,” he said some time later.

She butted her nose against his. “And whose fault is that, do you think?”

He kissed her cheek. “Thank ye for bringing me back, just now” he said softly. “I dinna think of it every day anymore, and ye ken I dinna dream of it as much as I used to. But it’s still – there – almost like I can touch it. And I dinna think it will ever go away.” He swallowed. “That’s another of my happiest days, Claire – the day ye used yer magic to save me at the abbey.”

She traced her thumb against the “C” she’d carved into his hand the previous day. His wounds had long ago healed – and daily exercises with his ball of rags had almost restored the hand and fingers to their full range of motion. She’d given him a small gift when they arrived at the cottage – a jar of cream she’d made herself, after hours of boiling down goose grease and camphor and other fragrant herbs, which she’d rubbed into his aching hand and fingers every morning and night since they’d arrived. He’d said it helped relax the muscles, easing the pain she knew he had lived with daily since the hand had been injured almost twenty years before.

“It wasn’t magic. Just a bit of acting, and opium. And determination, I suppose.”

“It was magic, Claire. To me.” He kissed her eyelids. “I want to tell ye something, and I dinna wish ye to think I’m daft.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m worried already.”

He sighed. “I have thought so many times about all the things that happened right when we were first acquaint. How many wonderful and terrible things happened to us. And how many of those things in those first years were due to Randall.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Jamie – ”

“He ruined my life, and Jenny’s life, and your life. He is the reason my father is dead. He kept me from my home and family for years. He is the reason Faith is dead. He is the reason I have a crippled hand.” His voice was thick – and when she met his gaze, his eyes swam with tears. Overcome, she released his hand and cupped his cheeks.

“Jamie, stop. I know all this. Don’t bring him in here, between us now.”

He shook his head. “But Claire – had he not had me arrested and flogged and caused me to leave Scotland, I would have never been wi’ Dougal and the others when Murtagh found you, right after ye fell through the stones. He made the marks on my back, but it’s those marks that got me talking to ye right away – got me trusting ye and telling ye about the price on my heid. And I marrit ye to keep ye safe from him.”

He swallowed and breathed deeply. “And then - sometimes I wonder whether I ever would have had a chance wi’ you, if things had been different,” he said quietly. “I would have had much more to offer ye, had it no’ been for him. I would have had a chance to win your heart the proper way, by courting you over weeks and months. And giving ye the proper wedding ye deserved – no’ a ceremony held by a bribed priest, under the threat of violence from my uncle, and attended only by strangers.”

Her fingers trembled. She grazed his thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears. “Jamie –”

His eyes, wild, met hers. “Claire – don’t ye understand? I never would ha’ met ye, never would ha’ married you, never would ha’ lived had it not been for him.”

She had no words. Silently she pulled back her chair and led him over to the bed, easing him to sit on the edge while she knelt before him.

Jamie’s eyes, unfocused, were far away. “So I canna truly hate him. Even though I should. Even though I forgave him long ago. He gave me the greatest gift I ever received – you, and our life together.”

She gently eased off his boots before standing before him. She undid her hair. She unbuttoned her shawl and flung it on the bed. She undid her stays and dropped them to the floor. She slipped out of her gown and tossed it behind her – all the while watching Jamie’s gaze.

When she was finally in her shift she saw him startle and look up questioningly to meet her eyes.

“Welcome back,” she said softly.

He gaped. “Christ. Claire. I -”

She eased toward him and sat astride his knees. “Are you here now, with me? Because if I have your attention, I have a few things to say to you.”

He nodded and placed a large hand on her thigh. He buried his nose in the valley between her breasts, breathing deeply.

She twined her fingers into his hair and held him close. “All of what you said may be true, Jamie. It’s remarkable how such small choices – such small events – have such incredible impacts on our lives. Like how if I hadn’t seen those forget-me-nots at Craigh Na Dun, I never would have touched the stone. Never would have found you.”

He inhaled and exhaled – big, deep breaths – and gripped her thigh tightly.

It had been years since they’d talked about this – years since he’d allowed himself to think about the cataclysmic events that had led him to her - that had tested them, torn them apart, but ultimately brought them back to each other, bound tighter than ever before. And as much as she wanted to stop, she knew that he had to get it all out. That she had to get it all out. And then maybe, just maybe, they could finally lay the ghosts to rest.

“But Jamie – had I not gone through the War, I never would have learned to be a nurse. Had I not been married to Frank, I never would have even been in Scotland – and never would have known what happened right after Culloden. So I never would have been able to save you, and Lallybroch.”

Slowly her hand found his – her J pressing directly into his C. She bent to whisper in his ear.

“Our marriage was hasty, yes. And I was reluctant, yes. But I was falling for you, Jamie. I knew from the moment we met that you were more thoughtful, considerate, gentle, and selfless than any man I’d ever known. Than I thought a man could ever be.”

He hummed against her breasts. She pushed his head closer to her body.

“You would never have needed to court me. You are all I’ve ever needed – not your home, not your estate, not anything material. You are enough. Will always be enough.” She licked her lips. “You are my true match. In every way. You understand me and respect me like nobody ever has. You love me, and make love to me, like no man ever has.”

His hand left hers and skimmed down her thigh to cup gently between her legs. She gasped.

“I would have found you,” she whispered, breathless. “I would have married you, and loved you, and bore your children, no matter the circumstances.”

His fingers began stroking her gently. He raised his eyes to meet hers, reveling in how her breathing was picking up.

“You are my true match, mo nighean donn. I love ye more than any man has ever loved a woman.”

Claire steeled herself, stood, and shrugged out of her shift. Jamie gaped. She cupped her heavy breasts in her hands, thumb circling her aching nipples. “Take me, Jamie,” she whispered. “Take what’s yours – what always has been yours, what always will be yours.”

He swallowed hard and rose to stand before her. Gently, quickly, she unbuckled his kilt and he whipped his shirt over his head. Finally naked, he seized her mouth in a deep kiss, picking her up effortlessly and easing her onto the bed.

She wrapped her legs around him and reached down to guide him inside of her. His hand stilled hers, though, and she whimpered.

She felt his wide, sweet smile against her lips. “Open yer eyes.”

She did, gasping. Blue met blue. “Eyes on me,” he whispered. “Always on me. Let me show ye what I canna find the words to say, Claire.”

He gently pushed deeper inside of her, and his soul touched hers, and they healed.

Adrienette Fight (Post-Reveal)

Okay, so hear me out.

Adrien and Marinette are already dating. Everything is pretty great, they’re always together, they go on dates with each other, they transform together whenever they have to fight an akuma. However, they’re not the ideal perfect couple. They do get into some fights once and a while. One day after they’re done battling, one of them can get mad at the other for doing something completely stupid during an Akuma attack which would have cause them harm.
•"You shouldn’t have done that. What if you have gotten hurt?“
“But then you would have gotten hurt if I wasn’t there to protect you.”
“I can handle myself. You should have been more careful.”
•The fight breaks out into a really bad argument. This then leads to the silence treatment. Usually they would talk in the halls, hang out in the library during their lunch hour, or wait to walk each other home after school. All of that just stops instead they ignore each other, avoid eye contact even if they manage to look for a split second it would turn into a glare, they even stopped walking each other home.
•Marinette eventually tells Ayla what’s going on and visa-versa to Adrien telling Nino. They both tell them to talk it out instead of letting this pass.
•At home Marinette talks to Tiki about her recent fight with Chat/Adrien. “Lovers tend to have quarrels all the time. Why don’t you just talk to him?”
“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“Just try, Marinette.”
•The next day, Adrien had agreed to talk to his princess and try to work things out. That is if he could find her. Marinette is no where to be found the minute he walks into class. You guessed it, an Akuma.
•The fact that Marinette wasn’t in class or the spot they would meet up made Adrien worry about her.
•Chat Noir comes in to find that the Akuma has Marinette cornered. (She was probably running late and happened to walk into some trouble. Wrong place at the wrong time.) quickly carries her to safely before the Akuma has a chance to get her.
•He finds a safe place where the Akuma wouldn’t be able to find them.
•Chat Noir checks to see if Marinette is okay. She seems fine and before he could say anything else a crash can be heard just a few blocks away. Marinette quickly transforms and the both of defeat the Akuma.
•They return back to class like if nothing ever happened. Without even saying another word.
•"Did you talk to her?“
"No, I don’t even think she wants to talk to me.”
“Dude, this is Marinette we’re talking about. If you can’t talk to her now, how was it that you were able to talk to her the last time when she didn’t even like you?”
•Lightblub!! It starts to rain and forgetful Marinette didn’t bring her Umbrella leaving her wet and cold. Adrien sees this and covers Marinette with his umbrella.
•"Listen.. I know we haven’t been talking lately. But I just want you to know that even if I’m mad at you I still love you dearly. I care about you, that’s why I must protect you at all cost. Because.. you’re the last thing I would ever want to lose.“
•Marinette takes the umbrella and before Adrien leaves she pulls his shirt bring him closer to her.
"Wait! Co-could you.. walk me home?”
•Adrien is a bit shocked at first but then smiles at her. They both end up sharing the umbrella and Marinette quickly gives Adrien a tight hug.
•"I’m sorry..“
"I forgive you, Purr-iness”
“What? I couldn’t help myself.”
•They laugh while Adrien continues to crack jokes.
•It ends with a kiss in the rain.
•Nino and Ayla watched the whole thing.

Things Magic Can’t Fix (Merlin x Reader)

Character: Merlin

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Fluff

Title: Things Magic Can’t Fix

Summary: Merlin can’t stop thinking about Y/N, and although she definitely reciprocates his feelings, there’s something holding her back. Merlin then decides to disguise himself in order to talk to her and find the truth.

The young man absently stirred his soup, hardly realizing what he was doing.

“Is everything alright, Merlin?” Gaius asked him, concerned.

The young warlock looked up at his mentor and nodded, even though his mind remained far away from the room they were sitting in.

“Of course” Merlin tried to pretend like nothing was on his mind despite it all.

“Are you sure? You look distracted”

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Gaius” He let out a happy and dreamy sigh. “Her beautiful smile and her tender glance”

Gaius didn’t really have to ask to know his young apprentice was talking about Y/N. She was a lovely girl indeed, everyone thought so, including the physician.

“It seems you’re in love” The man smiled fondly at the boy, who blushed slightly.

Keep reading

You want to know the truth? Nothing lasts forever. You can fall out of love with someone you swore you would love until the end of time. You can wake up one day and find holes in the people you love, and sometimes, that is enough to leave. Nothing is certain. When someone tells you that they love you, they can be lying. I used to see so much light shining from my ex-lovers eyes, but it just became too bright. When I used to kiss her, I tasted something beautiful on her tongue. As the days went by, her kisses starting tasting bitter. We started fucking because we forgot how to make love. We started ripping each other apart trying to fit into one another. I have loved people and I have stopped loving people and I have moved on with my life. I have spent so much time looking for someone to call my own but I didn’t realize that nobody can truly be yours. You can love someone today and plan a future with them but six months from now you can pick up your stuff from their place and never see them again. You can fall in love so fast and you can fall out even faster. You can build a home inside of somebody but they still won’t fucking stay.
—  nothing lasts forever (m.o.w)

anonymous asked:

Just here to agree with you and that other anon. Even if we only consider the movie, Harry not always agree with Uma (they can stay on Boreadon / you said I could hook him / I never get to have any fun) but he does what she says because he takes his role as first mate serious and he cares about Uma. Uma went through a lot because of her mom and Mal and Harry knows all this and he never left her side, he will always care and protect Uma. And if they don't be canon, I'm leaving this franchise.

AMEN ANON. Yes there are times when Harry and Uma have their lovers quarrel but at the end of the day Harry with always trust,obey, respect and listen to his captain, being Uma’s first mate is something Harry obviously PRIDES himself with and also being her longest friend you can tell that they’ve probably had moments like that a lot but things never get outta hand because they know each other very well, that along with the fact that they both love each other. And if they mess up and turn their relationship upside down then I’m switching my tv of.  


Edge of Seventeen Challenge!

Rules: Re-imagine your founder (or a sim you made as an adult) as a teen!

And created by the amazing @alwaysimming

     I chose to to do Dylan and Marianna for this challenge! Marianna is rock’n her all natural hair and eyebrows ;) She has always loved books and as you can tell, her favorite color has always been pink. Dylan on the other hand was a total geek in high school! His hair and facial hair is just a mess though! They love teasing each other about their old high school yearbook photos to this day :)

A Slip of the Tongue (F!Corrin x Kaze)

A submission by @scalding-coffee-cup

Kaze is as swift as he is silent; as cautious as he is punctual. By the time the sun has finished setting, he’s already entered her private quarters, perched on the same spot on the windowsill.

She always greets him with a gentle smile and extended arms. “Welcome home,” is the first thing that leaves her lips.

They embrace, tell each other about their day and lie down in bed. Tonight goes a little differently, however. Kaze catches a glimpse of the ring on Corrin’s finger.

“You… wore your engagement ring today?” He asks.

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Finding Her Voice: Red's Agency in Transistor

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: there’s this girl, see—a pretty little thing—and she’s supposed to be the hero of the story. But everything she does is by the men around her. She lacks agency in her own story. She’s not acting independently. She isn’t free to make her own choices.

Like, say, a woman without a voice, and the sword who’s there to fill the silence?

That’s the glaring red flag that comes with Transistor: it sure looks like a game where you’re not supposed to project yourself into the character of Red as much as want to protect her. If Red doesn’t have a voice, then it’s really the sword’s story, isn’t it?

It’s so glaring that it seems like Supergiant Games wants you to think that going in, because the first thing they do is turn that impression on its head. Red doesn’t just have agency within the world of Transistor—the game itself is an exploration of what that means.

We’re going to dive deep into spoilers (right through to the game’s end), so stop here if that’s a problem.

Keep reading

✰ * º Based on this! * º ✰

Things had been… complicated. Arizona only swiped on her best friends sibling as a joke, they had known each other for the longest time, and they were the older and mysterious sibling she had to dislike, by friendship code. So, when they got to talking, and actually clicked, it was… surprising. It lead to them hanging out secretly, and really started to develop feelings for each other. She was spending more and more time with her friend, most of it sneaking away. Her friend had finally fallen asleep, and she left the bedroom, walking into her lovers bedroom after knocking softly. “Hey,” Ari smiled. “They’re asleep, finally,” She chuckled and sat on the bed next to him. “We’ve got to just tell them one of these days so we can.. Actually spend time together. You want to spend time with me, right?”

Teach Me

Title: Teach Me

Pairing: Angel!ReaderXDean

Word Count:460

Request: Can u write a DeanXAngel!Reader? :3

A/N: This takes place in the middle about season 9, before dean gets the mark and after gadreel leaves Sam so if you haven’t watched season 9, definitely season 9 spoilers in here. While I did really like writing this one, I would prefer if I could have more detailed requests so I have a better chance of writing what you want! Thank you! 

You admired Castiel.

That was the simplest way to put it.

You had never met him, but you had heard stories of him, how could you not though? Heaven had been a frenzy because of him, but through it all you silently stood by his side believing in his mission, the mission you too thought was your intention far before his rebelling started. Because Castiel wasn’t the only thing you admired.

You admired humans as well.

From the beginning, you believed that your mission, all angels missions, were to watch over your fathers imperfectly perfect creations. Throughout the many, many years of their existence, and with your father disappearing, your brothers and sisters seemed to grow blinder and blinder from the true mission you all had. But you never did. Humans fascinated you. All their flaws; the anger and pain they harbored, along with their selfishness, was quite terrible, but you realized that their pain and everything horrible in their life did contribute to their happiness and everything good in their life as well. You wished you were able to say that you realized this quickly, but it took you many and many years to realize this harsh truth. But even with their flaws, you admired how they had the strength to go on, and you admired their passion and determination. But what you mostly admired was their free will; another big reason you admired Castiel as well. You felt yourself starting to feel more emotions, mostly confusion, but ever since Castiel pulled Dean Winchester out of hell, doors seemed to open up for you, the doors leading to emotions and understanding. You understood feelings and you felt a few, not in a large sense but in very few amounts. Like when Castiel opened the doors to purgatory and caused the massive massacre in heaven, you felt sadness, and when you fell from heaven you felt sad again, but also confused and angry. You felt those emotions on such a low scale, so it shocked you that humans did it on a day-to-day bases. So when you fell, you decided, not knowing what else to do, to watch. You watched the humans go about their daily routine, before being able to do it so often but now having all the time, and the surprises never stopped. Every time you felt as though you had an understanding for human emotions and their small life, something always happened that completely destroyed your thoughts on what you thought you knew. So you watched, and when you finally heard that Castiel was an angel once more and fighting the rouge angels, you knew that you would join him. So you did, mostly keeping away from the fight all together, but doing what you needed to do at times. But when you had free time, which was quite often, you sat and watched these humans.

As you were doing today.

You were sitting in a park, invisible to the humans as they walked by you, invisible to the lovers holding hands or the kids with their parents, telling them a fun new story, or to the teenager, alone in the park, walking around with much more on her mind then most people would give her credit for. You sat on the bench, watching as they passed by how they showed their love for each other, or how they showed their lack of love. You sat there, even as the day went by and slowly people started coming less and less, it being hours before you saw someone again, but you didn’t mind.  The last time you saw someone was about 1 hour ago; a couple, clearly in love. Or at least you thought so. The way they held hands and looked at each other with a special glance made you suspect they had strong feelings for each other, and when one would laugh the other would look at them with an admiring face. But now you were looking at the grass the trees, mostly thinking to yourself, when you suddenly heard a car pull up. You looked towards the car, ready to see who you would observe, when all of a sudden your eyes got wide. You stood up and, keeping a calm expression, showed yourself and walked toward the car. You could tell who was in that car, feeling his presence even before you saw him. You were just about to near the car when all of a sudden the driver door flew open, and out stumbled Castiel. You ran toward him, noting that he was hurt, and when you reached him he collapsed on the floor, leaning against the side of his car. You quickly approached him and looked at him with a confused expression, noting his wounds. He was cut all over his face, and it was quite obvious his torso was repeatedly cut, blood seeping through his white shirt. 

“Y/N,” he said, groaning your name, clearly in pain. You felt shocked for a second that he knew your name, but you quickly brushed it aside, knowing you needed to focus at what was at hand. You were aware of his stolen grace and unlike many angels you weren’t upset with him, but you knew that his power was fading and that he couldn’t heal himself without getting weaker. You nodded at him, assuring him silently before placing two fingers on his forehead, completely healing him. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said, looking up at you.

“Castiel, what happened?” you asked, helping him up. He stood up, still leaning against his car, obviously drained of power.

“The enemy angels they found me and captured me. They tortured me for information on Metatron, information that I don’t have. I managed to get away though, and I felt your presence nearby and I knew you were one of the angels who had joined me, and not only that but believes in the same mission as me,” Castiel said.

“These humans are fascinating Castiel. They are our fathers greatest creation,” you said, nodding your head.

“Yes they are, and I have heard of you before and knew you felt this way. Y/N I need you to do something for me,” Castiel said.

“Of course,” you said, gesturing for him to continue . 

“While they had me, they mentioned the Winchesters,” Castiel said. Your eyes widened at the name, knowing that they were true hero’s too and very important to Castiel.

“The Winchesters,” you said, willing him to continue .

“The Winchesters are suppose to be going on a vampire hunt today, but they have been hunting the wrong thing. The warehouse they are going to walk into are not filled with vampires but with-“ 

“Angels,” you said, cutting him off with your realization.

“Yes angels. Y/N they are in great danger and not properly equipped and I need you to help them,” Castiel said.

“Of course Castiel you and I shall go together and help them,” you said.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “If I go I will be putting you and them in danger. The angels want me and if I’m there it will be a blood bath. I need you to go and save them, then look after them until I can be there,” he said. You nodded and stood away from him, letting your blade fall from your sleeve, gripping it in your hand.

“I wont let you down,” you said, before loosing sight of him.

Sam and Dean were standing near a wall, chained up by their arms and legs. As soon as they walked into the building they noticed something was wrong, but before they had time to think they were attacked, blacking out and waking up in chains. They quickly realized they were being held by angels, and that their mission was to kill them. 

“Oh I’ve waited a while for this,” one angel, the head angel said, making his way toward Dean with a knife in his hands and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Bite me,” Dean said, eyeing the knife before looking back at the angel. 

“Don’t put ideas in my head,” he said, smirking at his before putting the knife up to his throat.

“Oh we’re gonna have so much fun,” he said, moving the knife to the other side of his throat, pressing in a little and making him bleed.

“You son of a bitch you leave my brother alone!” Sam screamed, drawing the angel’s attention from Dean to Sam, the angel letting the blade fall from Dean’s neck.

“Oh now don’t be selfish, you’ll get your turn,” he said to Sam before turning back to face Dean. All of a sudden there was a flash of light, and they all turned toward the source, the angel in front of Dean having to turn back. You just killed an angel and surveyed the scene, seeing there were two other angels to kill, one of them being right in front of who you recognized as Dean Winchester. That angel made his way toward you, as did the other one, and you held your ground, holding your blade up. One of the angels went out you, but you quickly dodged the blow and instead took his arm in yours, quickly twisting it causing him to drop it, and then bringing the angel in front of you, just as the other angel was about to stab you, instead stabbing its ally. You quickly shoved the dead body aside and stabbed the angel, pulling out your blade and throwing his body on the floor. You then looked up at the two Winchesters chained up, staring at you. You made your way towards them, going towards Sam Winchester first.

“Hey don’t you fucking touch him,” Dean shouted, glaring at you. You looked at him, tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows together.

“I’m here to help. Castiel sent me,” you said. Dean’s eyes then softened a bit as you turned back towards Sam and snapped your fingers, setting him free. He fell from his chains, rubbing his wrists and looking at you with an astonished look. You then left him and walked toward Dean, looking him up and down.

“You gonna let me free?” he asked, a fire in his voice.

“I’ve heard so much about you two,” you said, getting close to his face as if you were inspecting him, before pulling away and shaking your head at yourself, snapping your fingers once again and letting him free. He collapsed to the ground, but quickly stood up, rubbing his wrists as Sam did. 

“Who are you?” Sam asked as you walked away from them and towards the dead angels.

“My name is Y/N,” you said, picking up the blades from their bodies. 

“Cas has never mentioned you,” Dean said.

“I’m not surprised. I like to keep to myself most of the time and just watch,” you said, inspecting the blades.

“Watch what?” Sam asked, eyeing you. You stood up and faced them, looking at the blades once more and setting them on the table next to you before looking at them.

“You,” you said.

“Us?” Sam said.

“Yes humans. You are all so fascinating,” you said, “But specifically you, this is my first time meeting you too.” Dean then came up to you slowly, not saying a word. He went toward the table you set down the blades and looked at them. You observed him quietly, not quite sure what he was doing. He then picked up a blade and looked it over, before quickly going up to you, holding the blade up to your throat.

“What do you want,” Dean said, venom in his voice. You widened your eyes at shock and furrowed your eyebrows.

“I don’t understand what the confusion is. I already told you both what I came here for and I saved you both. Why are you holding this blade to my throat?” you asked, tilting your head a bit as to not cut yourself. Dean looked at you confused, not quite sure what to do, and then looked at Sam. You took that moment to grab the hand the blade was in and take the blade from him. You held the blade, not aiming it at him but backing away from them and near the table where the other blades were.

“I understand your hesitation for any angels other than Castiel, but Castiel was captured and tortured for information. He escaped and found me in a nearby park, which I then healed him and he told me to come here and save you because this was not a vampires nest as you thought it was. I offered him to come with me but he told me that the angels were after him and he would be putting you and I in more danger. So I came here to help you,” you said, telling them what happened. Sam and Dean still kept their distance but looked at each other than at you.

“Sammy call him,” Dean said, still keeping his eyes locked with you. You stood; allowing them to do what they thought was necessary.

“Please do,” you said. Sam took out his phone and dialed his number, holding his phone to his ear; all while Dean kept looking at you.

“Hey Cas,” Sam started, obviously getting him on the line.

“You did? Thank you, I know. Y/N right? Stay with us? It’s not necessary. Cas. Fine. How long? So just have her along with us Cas? We can take car of ourselves. Alright fine. Yah see you soon. Bye,” Sam said, all his side of the conversation. 

“Dean she’s safe,” Sam said, closing his phone and putting it in his pocket. Dean looked at you with furrowed eyebrows then looked at Sam.

“Well what did he say?” Dean asked.

“Pretty much what she told us, and also that she is going to be looking after us until Cas can meet up with us,” Sam said, looking over at you. Dean followed his stare and looked at you, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh hell no we can take care of ourselves,” Dean said, shaking his head.

“Dean that’s what I told him but apparently the angels are closing in on us and he said we will need her to protect us; to tell us who is and isn’t an angel,” Sam said. Dean groaned and rubbed his temple, looking up at you.

“We can just go to the bunker,” Dean said, trying to find a way out of it but Sam shook his head.

“Angels could follow us and we wouldn’t even know,” Sam said. Dean clenched his jaw but then nodded looking at you.

“We are not going to babysit you,” Dean said, pointing at you.

“Of course you’re not. I’m an angel of the lord. I’m going to babysit you,” you said simply, collecting the blades and walking towards them.

“No, no one is babysitting anyone,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows.

“Alright if you don’t want to call it that then that is fine,” you said.

“May we go to the bunker now?” you asked, looking up at them because even though you were an angel, your vessel was small and they were huge.

“Yeah I guess,” Sam said, taking some blades from you to help you. You nodded at him as he took some to show thanks, and then extended both your arms to their foreheads.

“Whoa whoa you are not zapping us anywhere,” Dean said, avoiding your hand.

“Why? It’s faster,” you said confused.
“Because if you are gonna look after us then you’re going to travel like we do. And us humans drive,” Dean said, pulling out his keys and shaking them a bit. You let your mouth go into an O shape and nodded.
“Of course, my apologies,” you said.
“Remember a conversation like this?” Sam asked Dean, smiling a little bit and letting out a chuckle before heading for the exit to the warehouse.
“After you,” Dean said, looking at you with a confused expression before you walked in front of him, following Sam. He then shook his head and let a small smile come over his features before he followed the both of you to the impala.

“I’m exhausted,” Sam said as he swung his bag onto one of the motel room beds, leading both you and Dean into the motel room. Over the car ride you had gotten to know both Winchesters a bit better, keeping note of the type of jokes Dean told and the way Sam’s face would scrunch up when Dean told those jokes, his attitude clearly disapproving. You warmed up to them though and you enjoyed spending time with them, getting to learn more about humans now that you actually talked to them. And they started getting use to you too. in the beginning of the ride you could tell they weren’t happy at all, but they started asking questions about you and you answered truthfully, and eventually they felt safe around you, and grew to find your understandable ignorance amusing and cute.

“Maybe you should go to sleep then,” Dean said, going toward his bed. you stood in front of both beds, standing straight and watching both of them as they prepared themselves for bed.

“What the hell do you think I’m gonna do Dean?” Sam asked sarcastically, giving Dean the face that you learned from spending time in the impala with them was called Sam’s ‘bitch face’. Dean rolled his eyes and then caught your glance and widened his eyes.

“You can take this bed and I can sleep on the couch Y/N, it’s fine,” Dean said, quickly picking up his stuff from the bed before you shook your head.

“I’m an angel Dean, I don’t sleep,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Ah, right,” Dean said, setting his stuff back down.

“So are you gonna- um… are you going to-“ Sam tried asking before you cut him off.

“I can watch over you both tonight like Castiel has told me to do, but since I see no danger I could also go outside and leave you two sleep, and, suggesting by your body language, it seems as though you would prefer me to leave,” you said, looking at both Sam and Dean.

“You don’t have to, I mean feel free to do what you want,” Dean said, trying to reassure you but you shook your head.

“It’s fine I’ll let you two sleep and I will see you in the morning,” you said, nodding your head before making your way toward the door.

“Where are you going to be?” Dean asked as your hand was on the handle. You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him.

“Close, and I’m always a prayer away,” you said before opening the door and leaving the room. You closed the door behind you and stood in front of the room, looking around in the darkness for a place you could go.  You didn’t want to stray far from the Winchesters, not wanting to fail Castiel but also not wanting to be separated from the boys. 

Especially the one boy.

You decided to go to the impala and lean against the front, looking up at the stars that filled the sky. You remembered when your brothers and sisters littered the night sky, and you truly admired their masterpiece. If there was one thing you understood about humans, it was the urge they felt to look up at the stars on a clear night. But at this moment the stars wasn’t the biggest thing on your mind. Today you had met Castiel and interacted with humans, but not just any humans, you interacted with the most important humans in the world. You felt bonded with them in a way that you never felt bonded with something before, and when you looked at Dean you felt your mind go hazy for a few seconds and knots in your stomach. You didn’t know why you felt this way, and you thought that maybe there was something wrong with your vessel, but there was nothing to heal. Your vessel was still impact and working properly.

“Y/N,” you heard your name interrupt your thoughts. You looked around, alert and standing straight, until you saw Dean coming toward you. You then relaxed a bit but looked at him confused as he approached you.

“Dean you should be sleeping now,” you said, realizing you had been outside for an hour.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Dean said quietly, eyeing you.

“How complicated can it be?” you asked, pouting your bottom lip a little bit. Dean let out a chuckle and shook his head.

“A lot more complicated than you think sweetheart,” he said. You let your stare on him linger for a second and then you looked away, nodding. 

“Humans are complicated,” you said, mostly to yourself, but Dean nodded, agreeing with you. 

“Do you mind if I join?” he asked, pointing to a spot next to you. You nodded your head and moved over, letting him come next to you. He then jumped up on the hood of his car, waiting for you to follow, which you failed to do, not catching his hint to come up.

“Well are you gonna sit next to me or not?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. You quickly realized what he meant and boosted yourself onto the car, siting next to Dean. You both stood in silence for a little while, looking at the stars until Dean broke the silence.

“You know a few years back, before it got all complicated, you know when it was just cutting of some vamps head and ganking some ghosts, Sammy and I would sometimes park the car and sit on the hood like you and I are doing now, and we would have some beers and just watch the stars, not saying a word between us,” Dean said, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. You just looked at him and nodded, still keeping silent.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I told you that,” Dean said, chuckling to himself a bit.

“Please don’t apologize Dean. I enjoy this,” you said, taking your gaze from the stars to him.

“You do?” Dean asked with doubt in his voice, not believing what you were saying.

“Very much so yes. I love learning about humanity and I admire humans for dealing with all their pain and anger but still trying to find some happiness. This day has been quite extraordinary for me, and I feel like I have learned so much from you,” you said. Dean just looked at you with a smile and nodded, keeping silent.

“Though Dean,” you said, interrupting the silence, “there is one thing I would like to ask that I believe you know the answer to.”

“Alright, shoot,” Dean said.

“Why would I shoot you?” you asked, deterring yourself from the conversation before it even began.

“No Y/N I mean talk,” Dean said, chuckling a bit. You smiled in spite of yourself and nodded your head, realizing what he meant.

“Ah another one of your jokes?” you asked, giving him a small smirk.

“Something like that,” Dean said, laughing a bit. You shook your head and looked forward, thinking to yourself of the so-called joke.

“Y/N you were going to tell me something?” Dean asked, calming down from his laughter.

“Oh yes of course,” you said, forgetting for a moment that you were going to speak to him. “So there are many times when I look at you and I feel my stomach in knots and my mind fogs up for a few seconds and I don’t know why. Do you think something is wrong with my vessel?” you asked, hoping for an answer. Dean looked at you, a bit shocked, before smiling and letting out a chuckle.

“Has this happened before?” Dean asked.

“No it happened after I met you and talked to you for a little bit. It has never happened before, and in fact it is happening right now too,” you said, trying to give him all the information he needed to help you.

“Y/N I think you might be attracted to me,” Dean said, a smile playing on his lips.

“Do you think so?” you asked, shocked at his theory but nonetheless intrigued.

“Yeah I think so,” Dean said.

“Do you feel the same way towards me?” you asked, curious to his response. He looked away and placed his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the back of his neck a bit, obviously feeling awkward. 

“I think a little bit yeah,” Dean said softly. You nodded your head and looked down, not sure what to do with the information you just learned.

“Y/N if you would like to know for sure I have an idea,” Dean said. You looked up at him and nodded your head.

“What is it?” you asked.

“If you’re alright with it, I could kiss you and see how we feel afterwards,” Dean said awkwardly. You nodded your head quickly though, the idea for some reason sounding very compelling to you.

“Yes I think we should,” you said. Dean then nodded and turned towards you better, looking you in the eyes. He then laid his hand lightly on your cheek, grazing his thumb over your lips. You felt a jolt of electricity but didn’t move, loving the foreign feeling you felt. You pushed your head towards deans touch, and then he looked up from you lips to your eyes, stroking your cheek a bit before looking back at your lips and slowly leaning in. you followed his movements without really knowing it; what you were doing feeling like second nature to you. You felt his hot breath on your lips, his lips just a hairs length away before you felt his lips grazing over yours, barely touching your lips. You felt a jolt of energy go through your whole body, and you felt yourself craving his lips on yours more now than before, but you wanted him to do what he planned. You didn’t have to wait for anything though, because his lips then connected with yours, and soon your lips were both moving in sync with each other, the kiss soft but passionate. You moved closer to him, suddenly craving his touch as you griped the collars to his jacket, pulling yourself toward him. Deans hands then found your waist, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was unlike anything you ever felt before, opening a whole new door to emotions you didn’t even think was real, and then Dean pulled away. Your faces were still centimeters apart, your forehead on his and his hot breath tingling on your lips. You looked up at him from his lips and to his eyes, only to find his eyes closed, him seeming to be more focused on catching his breath and holding on to you tight.  He quickly opened his eyes though, looking from your lips to your eyes, only to meet you looking at him, your breath heavy too.

“I want to do that again,” you said, your voice just barely above a whisper. Dean nodded and then his lips were back on yours, both of your lips moving as one. And that was how you spent much of your time. You wanted to learn about humans and their emotions, and that one night with Dean showed you more than a million years could. 

And you were excited for the nights to come to learn more.

anonymous asked:

prompt: sara and len dated but break up and still like each other but don't admit it (and they work together) can be an au or not, your choice. i love you fanfics!

This is pure flangst, and full of tropes. Featuring drunk!Sara, injured!Sara, snarky!len, bumbling precious cinnamon roll Ray and good old Mick. Enjoy :D

“You don’t have to say anything else, buddy. I’m going to hug you now.” That’s his boss Raymond’s reaction when he casually mentions he and Sara broke up.

“I’m going to shoot you now,” Leonard warns, annoyed.

Keep reading

A Month Later (Carol 2015)

Therese stood next to the kitchen counter in the dark of night, nudging at photos developing in fluid. She leaned against the marble top, chin resting in hand as she waited for the image to appear in the moonlight. It had been a month since she had moved into Carol’s apartment on Madison Ave, and she’d been enjoying herself, considering the circumstance. While she had agreed to move in, Therese was very much a different woman than when she and Carol had first met. Gone was the naivety, the whimsy of inexperience and saying yes to everything. That was a new point of hers to correct; to not blindly agree to everything that crossed her path.

She knew she was playing it safe, keeping her cards to her heart more than she had been during their prior relations, she wasn’t such an open book anymore, but the photographer was trying, honestly, to work past the barriers she’d set up in the first place. It was hard for her to immediately trust Carol again, and she wasn’t so sure if she entirely did, though she felt that she was getting there.

Carol could tell that Therese was different. Still the woman that she’d fallen in love with of course, but she was jumpy, almost restless. After a month of living there, the sense of it had dulled somewhat; they were working back to what their normal had been, but perhaps a more balanced sense of it.

The sound of bare feet against the hardwood padding their way into the kitchen caught Therese’s attention, and she tensed for a moment. Carol walked to her, wrapping her manicured hands around Therese’s waist and pulling the younger woman up from the hunched position at the counter, Therese’s back to her front in a warm embrace. Carol rested the side of her face against the curve of Therese’s neck, exhaling. Therese could smell the perfume she’d put on that morning, though hours had past, and she would swear to anyone that it smelled just as wonderful as the first time it had, every single time.

“I thought you’d gone to bed,” Therese murmured, her heart beating a pace slower, calm in Carol’s arms.

“I can never sleep right without you,” Carol explained, kissing the spot behind her lover’s ear. “All these late nights are bad for your health, you know.” A beat of silence passed. “Come to bed, love,” she encouraged the idea with another kiss, this time to Therese’s neck.

Therese swayed into her lover, wanting to concede defeat in her exhaustion, humming in thought. She groaned in irritation, knowing that she couldn’t leave the photos in the fluid overnight, “I have to finish these; my editor wants them in his office tomorrow morning.”

Carol, unaffected by the refusal, simply let her left hand wander to the drawer underneath the countertop, slipping out two cigarettes from a pack and sticking one in her mouth. “Well then, if we must be up so late, then we may as well have a midnight treat.” She smiled at Therese knowingly, pressing the second cigarette between her lover’s fingers before rummaging in the drawer again for a lighter. Therese covered Carol’s hand in the drawer, drawing out the lighter herself for the two of them. She lit Carol’s, her hands so close to the woman’s face that she could feel her body heat after the lighter had served it’s purpose.

Carol’s almond shaped eyes looked at her, the glance unwavering, and her cool grey irises enhanced in the moonlight of the window. The older woman inhaled deeply, exhaling away from Therese; she found it rude to blow smoke in the face of others, regardless if they were smoking as well. Taking her lit cigarette, she brought it down to Therese’s own to light hers with the burning ash. The act was strangely intimate to Therese, and she felt a warmth pool in the pit of her stomach, her cheeks turning pink in a quick blush. She raised the cigarette to her lips, anxious to calm herself down. Carol caught her free hand in her own, running her pink, polished thumb, over the back of Therese’s hand, noting the sparse vibrations it was presenting.

“You’re trembling.” She breathed, her voice low, as though her lover were a frightened animal.

Therese took in a shaky breath, eyes closed, recalling the last time she’d been told that. Taking a long drag on her cigarette, she breathed most of it out in a sigh, just as shaky as before, and part of it in a cough. Carol brought her arm around her to support the brunette, leading her away from the counter and towards the couch to sit. The brunette allowed it, fatigued from lack of sleep and trembling with anxiety. Carol pulled Therese to her, gently, allowing her young lover to rest on the angle of her body as support, her breasts making comfortable pillow for Therese’s head.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Carol asked her, voice tender, running her fingers though her lover’s straight, brunette locks in an attempt to soothe.

Therese couldn’t have explained why she said what she was about to say; perhaps this was her underlying issue throughout their entire reconnection as a couple and it was simply rearing it’s head as an issue. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tightly around Carols frame, and whimpered,  “Please don’t leave me again.”

Carol’s heart sunk with guilt, feeling firsthand what kind of damage she’d done to this young woman when she ripped herself out of her life. She’d intended it to be clean, like ripping off a Band-Aid; easier done quickly and not dwelled on. Of course, that hadn’t been the case; and the two of them had lost so much in the process. Tossing her cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, she wrapped her arms around Therese tight, so tight that she wasn’t entirely sure where her forearms ended and Therese’s body began.

“I will never, ever, leave you, Therese Belivet. I swear it to you. I swear on my life. I swear it on Rindy.” Carol meant it, she really did. She could not imagine a life without Therese, could not fathom the scenario as any possibility of her future. “I love you so much, sweet Therese,” She kissed the top of her lover’s head, then her forehead, moving further down until she kissed her firmly, seriously, on the lips. It felt like fire. “I love you so much that it aches my heart to see you so distraught.”

With one hand still firmly around Therese’s middle, she used her other to wipe away tears with the pads of her thumbs from her brunette’s eyes. “My angel, flung out of space…” Therese snuggled closer to Carol’s chest, craving the sense of security and the feeling of the other woman’s body against her own, the photos forgotten about entirely. She sniffled, swallowing despite the lump in her throat from crying. Carol held her tighter.

Kissing her on the forehead again, Carol began to sing low, just loud enough for Therese to hear, loud enough for the vibrations of her chest to calm her lover’s racing heart.

This is a thing I’ve never known before…” Carol sung slowly and easy, running her fingers through Therese’s hair again, lightly scratching at her scalp with her fingernails, “It’s called easy livin’” Her hand moved lower to massage the brunette’s neck, seeking to remove the tension she found so readily.

“This is a place I’ve never seen before… and I’ve been forgiven,” She would let the last syllable linger on for each line, keeping her pace slow and melodic, calming her distraught lover. “Easy livin’ and I’ve been forgiven, since you’ve taken your place in my heart,” In her head, she could hear the piano Therese played this on for her, during one of their first meeting. She smiled as she sang, nostalgia tickling at her heartstrings.

“Somewhere along the lonely road,” Carol continued, and Therese breathed in deep, soaking up Carol’s scent into her lungs to send her senses into overdrive, listening to Carol’s low, almost husky voice, “I had tried to find ya,”

Carol understood long ago why Therese had chosen this song to play and give to her, and she’d never stopped associating them with it. “Day after day on the windy road I had walked behind ya,” She kissed Therese’s temple.

“Easy livin and I’ve been forgiven, since you’ve taken your place in my heart.” Carol was almost sure that she could hear Therese sing along with her, in a whisper, but she decided not to draw attention to it. Whatever brought her soul mate some peace. “Waiting, watching, wishing my whole life away…” She gave another kiss for her sweetheart, this time on the part of her hair. The blonde pulled an afghan from the top of the couch, laying it over the two of them. “Dreaming, thinking, ready for my happy day, and some easy livin’” Carol smiled, relieved that Therese had stopped visibly shaking, save for the occasional tremor; her tears had nearly stopped as well.

Somewhere along the lonely road I had tried to find you”, Carol could definitely tell that Therese was singing with her now, still quiet, but louder, stronger than before. “Day after day on the windy road I had walked behind you,”

Therese looked up at Carol, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, but they were currently dry. She cracked a shy smile as they both sang in tandem “Easy livin’ and I’ve been forgiven, since you’ve taken your place…” Therese shifted closer to Carol’s face, “in,” their mouths were near touching, “my” both of them could feel each other’s breath, “heart.”

Carol, not wanting to force the kiss, let Therese take the lead here. Her lover did not disappoint; she closed the gap between the two of them, kissing Carol passionately and with fervor. Her hands found themselves in blonde hair, gripping loosely, not wanting to be apart from any part of Carol. She wanted to breathe her in, to taste her, to feel hear and hear her. Therese wanted Carol in every part of her senses; she wanted to know nothing but Carol. She pulled back an inch to breathe before diving in again, biting at Carol’s lower lip and making the older woman moan throatily.

So engulfed with Carol in her senses, Therese almost didn’t notice when she breathed out, “I love you,” as it came so naturally to her in the moment. She realized that Carol was exactly what she wanted; nothing else but Carol. Carol froze, immobile. She had professed her love a fair number of times to Therese, and she knew that Therese must love her too, but it had never been professed aloud. Carol stared her grey eyes into Therese’s hazel ones, stuck in shock, then she begun to smile, grinning widely and pulling Therese to her to kiss her hard. Therese realized what she’d said, the weight of holding it in having lifted. She grinned, her chest feeling airy and light; full of Carol Aird. “I love you.” She repeated, kissing Carol’s neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” There was weightlessness to her, and she couldn’t repeat the phrase enough. Each time, Carol felt warmth spread through her insides, as though she’d taken a shot of whiskey, or drank an entire pot of tea.

The two whispered their devotion of love back and forth to one another until exhaustion took them, embraced in each other’s arms, asleep with smiling faces.

cpnandor  asked:

can you write about draco fucking up and hermione is threatening to leave him i need a little angst

“Granger, please.” It was the first time Draco Malfoy had begged anyone for anything in what felt like centuries, but…for Granger, he’d grovel; for her, he’d do whatever it took to make her stay. Even if it meant swallowing his pride a thousand times over. She was worth more to him than his family’s name and status; she was worth more than the years of ingrained prejudice that had been beaten into his skull as a young man. She was worth everything to him, and…perhaps that was the entire problem; perhaps he hadn’t conveyed how much she meant to him enough. If he had, surely she wouldn’t be standing before him with tear-stained cheeks and one hand trembling as she wrapped her fingers around a freshly-packed suitcase.

Maybe if Draco had bothered to tell her each and every day–in some subtle manner–just how devoted he was to her, then she wouldn’t be threatening to leave him. And for good this time, by the looks of it.

“The time for talking’s over, Draco,” Hermione managed finally, her voice cracking as she stared defiantly at her lover. “I’m so…so tired, Draco; I’m tired of everything. I need to go spend some time at Harry and Ginny’s…clear my head…”

“You can do that here,” He blurted out, desperation lacing his voice. He stepped in front of her, blocking the front door from her with his slender, quivering arms. Stay. Stay. Stay. The word was beating a steady rhythm in his mind and echoing in his heart: it was the only word that mattered. Stay.

“I told you,” She spat through gritted teeth, her eyes filling with tears. “I told you that she still had feelings for you, Draco, and you didn’t…you didn’t listen to me.”

“Parkinson means nothing to me…she’s not you, Granger…please–I didn’t do anything with her,” Draco begged, his brows furrowing together in a fit of distress. He’d berate himself for appearing so weak in front of her come morning, but he’d shove those worries to the back of his mind for now. At present, all that mattered was getting Granger to stay. Somehow. He…he needed her. More than she could have possibly known.

“I asked you to trust me and you didn’t! And then she went and mucked everything up!” Hermione cried out, releasing her hold on her suitcase in favor of wiping fervently at her eyes. She rubbed them with the heels of her hands, her shoulders shaking as dry sobs tore through her dainty frame. The overwhelming need to wrap his arms around her and provide his lover with some sense of security was almost deliriously tempting, but…Draco kept his hands to himself. He knew his embrace was anything but welcome.

“You are the only one I give a damn about, Granger,” Draco called out, his voice wavering with anger and desperation. He just needed her to understand. “And if you walk out of that door right now, then you’re bloody proving to me that you don’t know anything about me anymore.”

“Maybe I never did,” was her reply; hoarse and quiet after five long beats of silence. And then, before he could plead for her to stay the night, Hermione was gathering up her belongings and Disapparating, leaving Draco behind to deal with the mess he’d created.

favvnsongs  asked:

that vampire au feel though when when clexa cuddle and sleep together, clarke always always has her hand on lexa's wrist or throat or the inside of her thigh. anywhere to be able to feel her pulse beating away under her fingers.

it’s reassuring; tracing her marks on most vulnerable of places. drawing circles around the careful bite on lexa’s neck that the girl carries around with something akin to pride. smoothing her thumb over her fresh wrist scar, listening to lexa hiss in aching pleasure. she’s branded with her clan crest, but this, not one, but three marks lexa willingly let her leave on her skin; that’s worth more to clarke than the revolting stamp of ownership her parents insist on. the bite on the inside of lexa’s thigh is clean and precise, unique in its beauty; clarke knows other blood bags either lack it or have the torn, ugly ones marring their flesh, telling tales of terrified screams and broken sobs. the one lexa has is only given to cherished lovers. and lexa’s the only one who has it.

it’s reassuring; knowing lexa’s heart is steadily pumping blood through her veins. in a way, lexa’s heart is speaking to her, soothing her and promising it’s not going away. not leaving her. each caress of clarke’s fingertips makes a promise back. ‘she trusts me with you and i’ll take care of you.’

until one day, she doesn’t, and skin under her fingertips is scarred and silent.

Two lovers
One sky
Since the childhood she liked him
At the beginning it was just a crush
He was too broken to give his heart to her
To anyone
They became teammates
Seemed he didn’t care
She was in danger
He act like a killer because of the curse seal
Her lovely heart stopped his cursed heart
One day he left her
Giving only a “thank you ”
Just two words
What makes them special?
Is that he’d never tell them to anyone though her
They met again years later
And they whispered each other names in the middle of caos
They met agin
Agin he was too broken
Too faithless
Too heartless
Whispering names in middle of war
Fighting side by side
He shows her he do care
Even it didn’t seem
He won’t let her fall on the ground
But he still broken so she tries to stop him
But this time the damage is more then she thought
Or she just tried
He says sorry
She accept because she knew he did it because his heart was too broken
He do the ultimate act of love
She get it
He loved her all all this time
But sometimes he just seemed to be blind by other things
And this drove him crazy
Just being to show it later
Now with all the issues
They are family and they treasure love the most

Fate brings you together, fate pulls you apart, fate teases you, and fate rewards you, as long as you are willing to go along for the ride.

Riley meets a Cowboy, and Lucas meets a City Girl, but will they meet again and when?

Cross-Posted to

Sixteen going on Seventeen } { Seventeen going on Eighteen }
{ Eighteen going on Nineteen }

Author Note: Thank you for all the reviews, reblogs, tweets keep them coming! This is a wild ride that Riley and Lucas are on so just hang on tight. 
Also please do not reblog and remove the chapter just to post the picture.

Oh, What A Night

Meeting in the Dark

“How much did she drink?” Maya asked Farkle as they carried Riley into the apartment.

“Not that much, at least I don’t think. Josh is going to kill us if he finds out we let her get this drunk.” Farkle reasoned, “You know, Lucas has to work all night, we could just put her in his room.”

Maya laughed, “I mean it’s that or your bed and I’m not sure how, what’s her name; Isadora would like that.”

“And we can’t very well put her in Zay’s bed. That’s the last thing either of them need.” Farkle sighed as he opened the door to the bedroom. “Let’s get her changed into something she might be able to sleep in.”

Maya followed them into Lucas’ room it was probably the neatest one in the apartment. He had a few posters on the ball, books on a small shelf she noticed a teddy bear sitting on the desk. She’d been in here plenty of times already but never noticed it before. It looked familiar though.

“Get a shirt from the bottom drawer.” Farkle instructed breaking Maya from the trance of the room.

Keep reading

Welcome To Malfoy Manor part 2 - a continuation of > Welcome To The Secrets

WARNING: Explicit Smut

“Why don’t you sleep with him?”

Hermione dropped the bottle of silk lotion on the counter top nervously fumbling to regain her composure.

“I- what are you- of course I- we just-“ she tried to explain, avoiding Ginny’s curious look in the mirror.

“Why do you sleep in your room still? I never sleep alone in my room, not unless I feel unwell and even then Master Blaise stays with me.

Hermione gave a small sigh as she managed to pump out lotion into her hand and began massaging it into her skin.

Keep reading

Okay, I’m really reaching here but idgaf!

If rumors are to be true that Stiles goes missing and, for some reason, loses his memory, do you realize that we get to see Stiles fall in love with Lydia all over again?! Like, from scratch this time?!

Only this time Lydia will have to try and help him remember about her, about them.

Imagine this.

The pack saves him from whatever and they’re together at the Stilinskis to see what Stiles does remember, which turns out not to be much, so Scott tries to revive memories from when they were children along with the Sheriff and it helps some, but it’s like something is missing in the story. And when everyone goes quiet trying to think of what to do to help Stiles, Lydia murmurs.

Lydia murmurs that Stiles has had a crush on her since the third grade and the room goes silent when she reaches for his hand to hold in hers like they’ve done so many times before. She tells him that he saved her from Peter (which she found out from Scott recently but just doesn’t have it in her to be mad at Stiles for not telling her), that Stiles always thought there was a connection between them and that they even kissed once (and that it was magical, but she opts not to say that out loud since Scott is already staring at her like she literally just dropped a bomb).

Lydia tells Stiles how good they are together and how he has saved her life time and time again. Tells him that they’ve gone to hell and back, hand in hand, and that they survived it all. Tells him that, before she could have helped it, she started falling in love with him, slowly but surely.

And Stiles just stares at her because he barely remembers anything and it’s hard to believe that such a beautiful woman is pouring her heart out like that (he remembers Lydia from first grade and she was most definitely not this open or talkative, even as a six year old), and when Lydia sees that it’s still not enough to bring his memories back, she suddenly remembers the letter.

So she leaves him on the couch in despair, scrambles to her feet and runs upstairs to his room because the letter has to be somewhere, and everyone follows her in confusion because “where the hell is she going?”. And when they meet her upstairs, half of Stiles’ room is a complete disarray and Stiles is the only one stepping in, asking what she’s doing but she just doesn’t stop, because he couldn’t have thrown the letter - her letter - away, could he?

Stiles worries for her even not knowing why because she seems distressed and something in his gut tells him that he just has to comfort her, so absently he reaches out for her to find that Lydia is tearing up and freaking out because she can’t find it, and he needs to remember her.

He has to.

And silence follows while they just stay there and moments pass, standing close to one another but too far away, or so it seems, and everyone at the door watches the scene unfold with half a broken heart because their love story is too good to just end like that.

And then, almost at the same time, Stiles, Scott and the Sheriff start talking over one another, noting how Stiles has always hidden important things under a loose wooden board on the floor just underneath his bed ever since he was a little kid, and it’s hard to tell who moves first because suddenly everyone is lying down and looking for it, and it’s Lydia who, always determined and more so now, ends up finding it.

And then she’s on her knees, unable to get up on her own, and the letter is in her shaky hands and she’s not sure whether she should open it or not, but Stiles is beside her in a heartbeat and reaches for her instictively, helping Lydia up to her feet, and neither notices that they’re suddenly alone, the others having rushed downstairs to give Stiles and Lydia time to finally, hopefully, sort some things out.

Stiles coaxes her to open the letter because he doesn’t know what’s in there, but then again neither does she so Lydia doesn’t really move, not sure of what she’ll find. So Stiles suggests they open and read it together because Lydia had pointed out just a few minutes ago, when they were back in his living room, how good they are when they work together so maybe it’s what they should do, and Stiles swears up and down that the almost shy smile she gives him then is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen, regardless of the ones his memories are keeping from him.

So they open the letter. And they read it. And as it turns out it isn’t a love letter after all (not blatantly, anyway). It’s just Stiles being Stiles and telling Lydia how talented she is, how smart, that when he saw how amazing she was at drawing (like at everything else) he just had to frame it because for all the times she’s felt insecure about her powers, she should always believe in herself and now she could actually see her own doing beautifully displayed and never doubt herself ever again. It’s him telling her she can do literally anything if she puts her mind to it and that he’ll always be there to support her no matter what.

When Stiles gathers the courage to look her in the eyes, she’s crying silently, and when he’s about to ask her what’s wrong she says that she hates how they keep missing each other, how now that she has finally read the letter, that she has come to terms with her feelings for him after so long, he doesn’t even remember her and that it hurts.

That she wishes things were different and that they’d get another chance, a clean slate.

And so, slowly, Stiles holds her hands and softly pulls Lydia into a hug, and the way she fits in his arms brings a few memories back that he doesn’t mention just yet. He just holds on to her like his life depends on it, like he was born to do just that.

And when she embarrassingly says she’s sorry for being such a mess when he doesn’t even really know her anymore, Stiles wipes away her tears, almost afraid to touch her but finding that it’s the rightest thing he’s ever done, and when the words come out of his mouth effortlessly another memory surfaces.

I think you look really beautiful when you cry.

Obviously, it only makes her cry harder because Stiles, her Stiles is there, as caring and supportive as ever but he still doesn’t remember her, doesn’t remember them. And before she can excuse herself and leave because this whole situation might just be the worst thing that could have happened, Stiles asks if she’d like to hang out, that it would be good, he thinks, that they get to know each other better since he’d very much like to get to know someone who obviously cares so much about him.

All that reminds her of is the time Stiles tried to talk to her when she was at the hospital waiting for Jackson and she barely even knew who Stiles was - she had been listening, even though she pretended she wasn’t for the sake of her reputation and because she just didn’t care about Stiles at the time, in all honesty -, but everything is different now.

She cares about Stiles now, and has for a while. More than that, actually, so much more, and there’s no doubt in her mind of what she wants to do. So when she nods and tells him that she’d very much like that, Stiles smiles genuinely for the first time since the pack rescued him, and has this proud look on his face that Lydia promises to try her hardest to make happen again so that she can see it more often.

So when they head downstairs and tell the others that the letter didn’t help much, everyone worries for a moment, but time will make things right and soon Stiles and Lydia fall back into place and his memories eventually resurface. And when they do, the day he completely remembers everything about her, about them, he’s knocking on her door and asking her out on a date because he just doesn’t want to keep missing her anymore, tells her that time has already taken too much from them.

And if by any chance this is how they end up getting together in the end, by getting to know each other all over again, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with their lover all over again too.