the room is so light and airy


While we would live separated into Sun signs, everyone is welcome to come and go, to pass by, to be welcomed, to stay over, to visit. If I’m going to dream, I’m going to dream that life would be peaceful at least, joyful at most.

Aries: Rocky and volcanic, a heaviness to the air. Everyone moves with urgency, with energy, with inspiration. There are dragons, friendly but fierce, creatures straight from the pages of fantasy novels. Competition is encouraged, but so is being protective, the merging of strength with something warm.

Taurus: Green, forests, streams, flowers, trees that seem to communicate and break away, that move should you look away for too long. People live in cottages, sweet smelling cakes filling the air in the days, amber and musk at night. Everyone who passes through is well fed and looked after. Leisure is considered a virtue here.

Gemini: Bright and colourful paths to follow, interweaving routes that lead to places undiscovered. The weather changes as they do. Shows are put on, laughter and giggles the soundtrack, and no day is the same. Everyone greets those that pass through, a conversation the key to affection. Libraries fill rooms Beauty and the beast style.

Cancer: Lagoons, beaches, caves to hide out in, pretty with glistening gems and rocks, places to reflect, to see the water move where the mermaids swim. There is time out for every emotion, every sensation to be realised, to be validated, and sitting and dreaming is the perfect way to pass time. Loved ones are kept close. There is power to the sound of the ocean.

Leo: Glamorous and built up, high buildings and fashionable aesthetics, modern, like a city but with quiet corners. Shows and films flash all day, free entry of course, and comfort and luxury is abundant. No one is considered too loud or enthusiastic, the more the merrier, shame is forbidden. If you are quiet enough however you can hear the bellowing lions roar in the distance, protective.

Virgo: Modest towns, green, but practical, everything you need at least once over is accessible. Little critters hop around. People greet each other with a slight nod of the head, a smile, then on their way to learn, to lend a hand, yet at the end of the day they meet each other, even if not much is said. At night, there is quiet to fall into fantasy, to create, to show a touch of genius.

Libra: Open spaces and airy, mountainous, a place to breathe, to balance, to think. The wind makes their hair dance. Houses seem balanced on the edges, views to envy. There are rooms like studios, a place for controlled messiness, for the creativity of Venus to express, yet the rest of the housing is immaculately designed. Most live in pairs, yet the wider community is also cherished.

Scorpio: Beautiful Gothic designs, castles and ruins, yet light seems to dance. Privacy is respected, but so is connection, and inauthenticity sticks out like a sore thumb here. There are creatures that you cannot quite tell if they are ugly or cute, a duality. Devotion and loyalty are held up as virtues. There is a dark humour here, but also great wisdom.

Sagittarius: Green and open, places to run and tumble, but also places to sit and ponder. A natural prettiness, but not heavily designed, natural, placed by the hands of something higher. Sport and competition is encouraged though not valued more than the mental and spiritual talents that their inhabitants gift to the world. There is a warmth in the air, a free spiritedness, a place to visit for anyone that feels blue.

Capricorn: Built up buildings, a big city, classy and simplistic design. Everyone progresses here, advances, creates personal ambitions along with shared ones. Hard work is a virtue, but so is being supportive and stable, extending a hand to those that need advice and solid method. Everyone walks with an air if dignity, but followed closely by a sarcastic grin and shining smile should someone break the poised pace.

Aquarius: A place of technology, pointing to the future, like a cross between a built up city and a science lab. If cars will one day fly, here will be the place to have them first. Can be overwhelming on a first visit, not knowing how anything works, but the fascination is more than enough compensation. The people here are odd and eccentric, but also speak with such interest and offbeat passion that it is infectious.

Pisces: Misty, iridescent, reflective, one colour seems to blend into another, can be confusing for the senses upon first visiting, but there is a point where it becomes easier to acclimatise. The floor doesn’t feel solid, like you could fall right through, but if you concentrate hard enough, you see the streams pass through, pretty rainbow lights dancing on the water. Everyone walks with a sleepiness here, takes time to gather how they feel.

The color of the sunlight feels different, Viktor thinks.  Something about it seems richer, fuller, and warmer, compared to before.  It streams through the window when he reaches and reaches and stretches a touch further, until his fingertips brush the curtain and he can pull it aside, and it spills into the bedroom like honeyed silk splashing over everything he sees.

“Mmngh,” Yuuri mumbles groggily, shifting.  He’s lying with his head pillowed on Viktor’s arm, snuggled up against his side, but now he turns, burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder to avoid the light.  Viktor chuckles to himself, stroking Yuuri’s cheek, and just pulls him closer, wrapping his other arm around him too.  They don’t have to be up yet.

Here’s the thing.  Before, before his Yuuri came into his life, he never enjoyed lying around on his days off, never watched the dust dance in the sunlight, never lay back and thought, I am happy.  Before Yuuri, he doesn’t think he really knew what that was like.

But now, Yuuri is warm in his arms, and maybe his weight has cut off all circulation to one of them, but that doesn’t matter.  The sunlight is warm and heavenly, golden and soft like the dawn, and Viktor is happy.  It’s not a sudden realization.  It’s slow, like the tendrils of light slowly getting brighter on the horizon until they creep into this room and illuminate the curves of Yuuri’s shoulders.  But oh, god, he is so, so happy.

“Darling,” he murmurs, bowing his head to nuzzle his lips against Yuuri’s forehead.  “Good morning.”

Yuuri lets out a slow, airy sigh.  “Vitya,” he breathes, his fingers twitching and curling into the hair at the nape of Viktor’s neck.  “Stay…”

Viktor chuckles.  “I’m not getting up just yet,” he promises, and satisfied, Yuuri slips one of his legs between Viktor’s, trapping him close.  

It’s funny, he thinks.  He never used to care for his days off.  Those would be days when he could spend time with Makkachin, but those were also days where he would sit, alone, in his empty apartment, and stare blankly at a wall that would stare blankly back.  It was dreary, and the world seemed washed-out and lonesome and grey.

It’s not grey anymore.  The sunshine that he holds cradled to his heart, right here, right now, has painted it all golden, and it’s the most beautiful color he’s ever seen.

i always get a tinge of pastel shades when i think about air. gemini, libra, and aquarius.
the substance with air is all in the mind, filled with thought. so the lightness and fairy dance blows like whispering wind.
the airy mind is agile and equipped with cerebral grace and finesse. they cross between worlds of imagination.
and then concern themselves with logic and rationality. the duality is rich in air.
air is a lucid dreamer. the writer. the lover. the genius. they prefer to persuade with charm than coerce with force. they harmonize rather than dramatize.
they recharge with beguiling conversation. to lye in a hammock on a clear day and simply think, to visit all of the
rooms in the mind, to follow every thought down every labyrinth and rabbit hole, this is a sensual ecstasy for air

ceo of matchmaking

It’s the last day of the @laurahale-appreciation week and today it’s the Dealer’s Choice, and because I can’t resist a chance to remind fandom of Neckz’N’Throats and how there totally should be more Neckz’N’Throats fic, have almost 2k of Neckz’N’Throats fic with matchmaking CEO Laura (and Sterek of course). Happy reading!

Laura loves her job.

She’s one of the youngest CEO’s in the country, possibly even the whole world. She runs one of the most successful werewolf magazine - and yes, some might call Neckz’N’Throats a skin mag, but it really is so much more than that and Laura has worked tirelessly to get it recognised as a respectable piece of journalism. Sure, the name still says it all - they show a lot of necks and throats, tastefully photographed to the maximum enjoyment of their mostly werewolf audience, but Laura takes pains to ensure that the pages of her magazine are not filled with blank faces and dead eyes. Her models are paid adequately, with all the insurances and securities necessary, and if there’s even the slightest hint that someone is not there just because they enjoy being photographed, Laura steps in and tries to figure out an arrangement that’s beneficial to both parties. It has worked well enough so far and has given her a reputation of being a fair and respectful employer that she’s proud of and strives to keep up.

Neckz’N’Throats did start out with just what it says on the tin: vulnerable necks and throats on display, meant to titillate and excite, but Laura has dared to branch out from that. She has introduced models from all kinds of backgrounds, aiming for diversity in all aspects, be it size, colour, or species. Then she started shooting couples - mated ones tend to be more popular, that special connection even shining through the glossy pages of a spread. Her most popular pair so far are Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore. Lydia started shooting for Neckz’N’Throats first, her lily white neck ticking every box on most hot blooded werewolves.

Not that Laura would know, being ace has both its advantages and disadvantages when heading a skin mag. On the one hand she still doesn’t quite get what “sexy” is even supposed to mean though she’s fared well enough in that respect by hiring models because of aesthetics and charisma - and employing actual hot blooded werewolves to advise her. On the other hand she is never ever tempted to leer at her employees creepily - and sadly enough that still seems to be a stand alone feature in her profession.

Keep reading

secrets and snarky statements (one) - steve rogers

Originally posted by marveltho

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Y/N’s meddlesome teammates seem to be the only ones who attempt to bring the two apprehensive friends to their conclusions. But, of course Tony Stark finds some way to screw it up.

Requested: No

Warning: language

Word Count: 2076

This is Part1 of two part imagine! Trust me I know Tony is an ass but it’s all worth it in the end, trust me!! I hope y'all like it I loved writing about Steve for the first time!:) and @imsecretlyromanburki wanted to tagged!! If you would like to be tagged in my imagine posts let me know!




“So, are gonna tell him?” Natasha pushed you, arms folded across her chest as she stared intently at you.

You sighed heavily, pushing your calloused palms against the end of the end table, your weight resting on your hands, “No, and I don’t plan on it!” you hollered at her, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in annoyance.

This was the fifth time Nat has asked you about it this week. Was your brain ever planning on you to ferociously admit your secretive and strong feelings towards your colleague that have been occurring for the past six months? No? No.

Of course not, you couldn’t. It wasn’t something that was exactly on your bucket list, especially since it’s something you wanted to keep a secret. Due to the fact it could tear apart your gifted friendship with him and make thing exceedingly difficult and awkward for everyone in the time being. But, was it still as big of a secret it had been for the past couple of months? Nope. This was due to the fact your other trustworthy boisterous colleague Natasha decided that she didn’t want to keep it secret. She chose to spread the word around the surrounding.

First, to Sam. Who then lovingly decided to pass it on to Clint. And then he decided it was best to tell Wanda, who told Thor, who then opened his sly, loud mouth to Tony. Tony of all goddamn people, the one who literally and physically could not keep his mouth shut. Then, soon enough the entire base knew. And when you found that out, you knew you were entirely screwed. Since then, for the past two months you’ve had to endure complete and utter crap from almost everyone.

“Hey hey hey, Y/N. How’s Cap doing?”

“Woah wait , where ya going? Steve isn’t with you.”

“Miss Y/N, I’m sorry to bother you, but where is the light of your life, Mr. Steve?”

You had felt your eyes roll into the back of your head at least ten thousand times in the past couple of months. You couldn’t take the obvious comments and snarky remarks they would cast upon you as soon as your presence became known in a room.

So, you decided enough was enough. You needed to shut this entire controversy down instantly, especially still continuing to keep it a secret from the superhero himself.


“Y/N, you got the report finished for today?”

“Yeah, I set it on the counter over there,” you answered Sam, your right arm extending behind you as it pointed towards the kitchen area.

Your nose was shoved into a book, not daring to separate your attention away from it for even a split second. Anything that was a possible distraction was your best bet right now. That and the fact you didn’t particularly enjoy any of the team’s company as of this moment in time. The antagonizing had gotten even worse and it had come to the point where they were so obvious and deafening, your secret had been exposed to now everyone. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone. Your mind eventually drew itself away from the pages of the book as the words became blurry, your thoughts gathering somewhere else, somewhere you couldn’t get out of your nagging head the entire night.


(Flashback to last night’s previous events)

You walked in to the room where everyone was gathered, just talking and hanging out. You had seen just a few of your teammates gazes shift to you as you attempted to walk in without being noticed much. But their gazes lasted a mere second as you saw them snap their attention back to Tony, who was standing among everyone in the middle of the floor. His hands were moving back and forth quickly and his eyes were wide with excitement as he told his seemingly great story.

You decide to sneak over and sit next to Nat on the couch, hopefully not causing anyone’s attention to snap to you. You slowly sank yourself down into the spot next to Nat, her attention barely hits you and her head bobs at you and then back to Tony as a smile spread across her face in bewilderment. You nodded at her, knowing Tony must be telling some story where he just cracks everyone up.

But, you couldn’t focus on the story. Your gaze has shifted to something sitting cross legged directly across the room from you.

Steve Rogers.

Your eyes dazed over in a feeling of regret yet love for the blond-haired superhero. You watched as his muscular right hand grasped his bent knee, you eyes trailing up his long sleeve of navy blue to be hit with the bulging bicep that flexed naturally from underneath his shirt. As your attention made the trail to his collarbone you felt yourself almost drool, his chiseled features pairing so well with his light, airy, and sweet personality.

His bright pink lips formed a sly yet happy smile, along with his pearly whites. That smile ignited something in your heart that you couldn’t deny, and you hated how much it affected you. No one before has made you feel this way, and it scared you a little. But, whenever his crystal blue eyes met yours in a fiery, unbreakable stare, you’re pretty sure you felt your insides explode.

As you sat for what felt like centuries, admiring the man in front of you, you heard a loud cough emit from someone nearby, dragging you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

Your head snapped in the direction of the sudden sound, to see Tony staring a hole through you. His muscled arms folded together across his chest as his dark eyebrows raised in a seemingly sneaky way.

“What?” you question oddly, turning your head to look around and see everyone’s stares directed to you.

Tony shrugged his shoulders happily, lips forming a slight smirk, “Oh, nothing! We were just wondering what was on your mind. You haven’t been listening for the past couple of minutes.”

Your brain hit you with the realization of what you had been doing for ten minutes. You felt yourself begin to cough up a lie you had established in no time, not finding any other to get out of the fact you had been drooling over your colleague for the past ten minutes.

“I-I was just thinking about who would work best with who on the next mission!” you chirped a little too loudly, voice squeaking as the lie rolled off your lips.

You felt confused looks from everyone around you, and Tony’s sly, knowingly gaze was giving you nerves you didn’t dare want.

Nat turned to face you completely, hand slapping your right shoulder in a playful way, “Then why don’t you share? I’m sure we’d all like to know.”

Your Y/E/C eyes narrowed into thin slits at Natasha’s comment, knowing she was trying to get something started.

“U-Uh, no. No, I mean nothing’s set in stone I was just suggesting-”

“Y/N, whatever you suggest is going to work in our favor,” Steve smiled sweetly at you. His blue eyes sparkled as they set themselves on you and you felt your stomach knot.

Your brain needed to switched from stuttering lies to quick-thinking facts in about a split second or your cover would be blown. Your eyes hit everyone’s in the room as you attempted to pair them up with a member of equal caliber. Nerves slapped against your mind as the lies began to build up one by one.

Before opening your mouth to let out the “so called” matching teammates, and embarrassing yourself in front of nine people, you were interrupted by someone coughing loudly.

Thank god. Someone wanted to change the subject, add something, interject, or whatever. At least you could steer clear of the embarrassment.

“I for one, have some matches of you all that I just think, might be made in heaven,” you heard the deep and cunning voice ring through your ears.

Oh no.

Everyone’s eyes adverted to Tony’s figure standing smugly in front of the team, hand scratching his head as if he had been thinking long and hard about these pairings.

On instinct, whenever Tony felt the need to embarrass and harass you in front of everyone, you shut your Y/E/C eyes tightly as if the appearance of your eyelids would make a better safe-haven.

You heard Tony’s footsteps began to pace around the room daringly before he opened his mouth, “Well first off, how about you, Y/N!” he hollered, eyes rolling to the back of his head as if he hadn’t thought of the idea of you being paired with anyone first.

As your eyes grew open slowly at the sound of your name, once again everyone’s gazed turned to you and you felt your body light up like a Christmas tree. You dared not to speak as Tony pointed his finger at everyone for a split second, and then drawing it back as if they weren’t a right fit for you.

You nervously watched as his finger pointed to Wanda and then drew back, and then the same for Sam, and drew back. Your heart beat grew increasingly as his game inched closer to the blond-haired beauty sitting quietly across from you.

You knew that if, once he pointed to Steve, his voice wouldn’t belt out how perfect you two were as a team, but as much greater than a team. At least in your eyes.

His finger met Steve’s body sitting on the couch and his head flipped from Steve to you in an instant, “Yes! That is it! Mr. America, that’s who Y/N wants!”

Instead of your mouth dropping open in shock, his shut tightly in embarrassment and your veins began to pump nervous energy all throughout your body.

This can’t be happening to me. This can’t be happening to me. This can’t be happening to me.

Steve’s attention focused on you and his lips turned up in a light smile, voice deep yet soothing all at once, “Of course, I think Y/N and I would make a great team.”

Your heart felt like throwing up with all the emotion that were flowing through your body at that very moment. Anticipation, infatuation, adoration… nervousness, guilt, regretfulness, and horror.

“Oh no no, Cap. Not just a team for this mission, I meant as a team for the rest of your lives.”

Your throat closed at the comment and you put a hand to your stomach to feel the aches that were running in the out of your stomach right now.

Steve looked at you and then back to Tony confusedly. You laid a hand on Nat’s shoulder and she looked to you with guilt displayed across her face. Your horror grew as you knew what was going to come out of Tony’s mouth next. And you had no way to stop it.

Tony’s hand flew down to Steve’s shoulder and clapped it twice before looking at him and muttering, “I chose you and Y/N due to the fact that you-” he pointed to Steve and then back to yourself before continuing.

Everyone sat in riveting positions, their attention fully focused on what was about to go down, no one daring to interrupt a precious moment of any of it.

Tony continued, “-and Y/N, need to work out whatever nervous and sexual energy you have going on between the two of you.”

Your mind wasn’t there anymore, it was completely detached, gone. You didn’t know what to say or how to fix what has already been said. You were screwed, and you knew it.

Steve'a eyebrows furrowed in shock and confusion as he looked to you for a simple answer to the equation, “Y/N what is going on?”

Your mouth couldn’t form the words to speak as your eyes met his a horrified look before Tony sighed deeply and finished what had already been started.

“The moral of the story is that Cap, Y/N wanted to tell you the crush on you that’s been eating her up for the past couple of months, and I for one feel like you need to recuperate what you’re feeling and-”

You didn’t even hear the last few sentences that came out of Tony’s mouth  as you leaped off your position from the couch and ran so fast out of the room you thought your lungs would burst.

Be with Me

by Inspector Boxer

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Supercat

Rating: T

Author’s Note: This is a prompt fill for @onegoodframe who asked for prompt #20, “Do you ever think about it? Us? Married?” Thanks to @zennie-fic for looking it over. Hope you like it!


“Do you ever think about it? Us? Married?”

Alex took a deep breath and glanced up from the chart she was reviewing, shooting a worried look at Cat Grant. Much to her surprise, the Queen of All Media didn’t look ruffled by Kara’s question in the least, but she did smirk slightly.

“Do you?” Cat asked nonchalantly, leaning forward in her chair as Kara stared at her from her bed in the medical bay of the DEO.

Biting her lip, Alex barely refrained from interjecting. Her sister had always had some weird… thing… for this woman, and, for the first time, Alex was witnessing it firsthand. She had to admit, the two women had chemistry, but with Kara powerless and drugged to the hilt on pain medication, now might not be the best time to let a former reporter interrogate her sister.

“Do I what?” Kara asked, sounding so light and airy Alex wondered if she’d float out of the bed if she’d been able to.

“Think about us being married?” Cat’s smirk became more pronounced.

Keep reading

A Proposal - Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request - “Jeff X Reader having friends over. He gets angry and they fight. He prop(os)es and apologizes at end.”

(I’m assuming this was meant to be proposes but if not I’m very sorry)

“The guests will be here soon Jeff get changed!” You berated your boyfriend. You could sense him rolling his eyes from the other room.

“Yes, Y/N, I’m going.” He sighed, dragging his feet up the stairs to dress himself.


All your friends sat round the large oak table in your dining room, glasses of sparkling wine in their hands and laughter in their voices. The atmosphere was light and airy, with a touch of superficiality - you could tell something was up with Jeff, but he wouldn’t let on.

“So, who’s more likely to a super hard ass parent- Alex, or Jess?” Hannah asked, giggling to herself at the thought.

“Jess- her dads a fighter pilot?” Justin reasoned.

“Nah, Alex calls his dad Sir, that’s gotta count for something.” Tony cut in.

“Or we’ll be nothing like our parents?” Said Alex.

“I reckon it’s Jess.” Addressed Hannah.
“But in the cool parent kinda way.”

“You can’t be both.” Justin said nonchalantly.

“Of course you can.” Jeff piped up.

“Mine were a pretty equal mix of both.” You agreed.

“Hmm maybe I should think of a better one.” Hannah mused.

“Babe, could you fetch the bottle of champagne from the kitchen?” You turned to Jeff, smiling warmly.

“We had champagne?” There was confusion in his voice.

“The bottle I asked you to buy yesterday?”

“You didn’t…”

“I did, and you replied with ‘I have’.”
The air had become tense with the slight dispute.


“I’ll get it then, if you forgot.” You laughed slightly tensely.

He rubbed his neck with his hand.
“I don’t think I bought it, Y/N.”

You had already been stressed about hosting the meal, as it was not something you and your friends ordinarily did, but small mishaps like this just increased your stress levels enormously.

“Are you kidding me?!” You blew up, the stress getting to your head.

“Can we help?” Clay piped up from your right.

“No, Y/N, I’m not kidding you.” Jeff was tense, and you both ignored Clay. “It’s just champagne, calm down.”

“That’s not the point! I worked so hard to make everything perfect for tonight and now it’s all ruined because you couldn’t even get some goddamn champagne from the goddamn shop!” You stood up.
“You clearly just wouldn’t understand Jeff.” You moved to the kitchen, but Jeff stopped you next to him.

“I don’t think anyone here minds.” Hannah tried to defuse the situation. It was like you’d been wound up too tight and were finally unravelling.

“It doesn’t matter, Jeff shouldn’t have told me he’d done it when he hadn’t, he knew how stressed I was about this.”

“Y/N, truthfully, my mind has been…. otherwise occupied.”

“With what?” You crossed your arms.

He cleared his throat.
“I mean, this isn’t ideal.”
“This isn’t how I’d planned it.”
“But I guess it’ll have to do.”

He knelt down from his chair on one knee.
“I am so sorry for everything, Y/N. You are the love of my life, and I’d ask for nothing more than just having you in it. From the day we met, I knew, you were incredible. Everything you do is selfless and caring and you put me above you before even thinking about your own needs. I’ll buy you champagne every day for the rest of our lives to make up for this if i have to,” he chuckled, “I am unconditionally in love with you, and if you’ll have me, Y/N L/N, would you do the honour of marrying me?” He breathed, his face was timid but certain, and the box he held in his hands glistened.

You lost your words momentarily, but the 'awwww’s’ coming from everyone brought you back down to earth.

“Yes Jeff! A thousand times yes. I love you.” You bent down to kiss him, and you knew that this was how you wanted to spend the rest of your life.

Asking for Trouble / Jeff Atkins

Words: 1945

Pulling your legs closer into you and shifting your head so you were leaning more against your beds headboard, your smile grows as Jeff’s laughter rings through the phone and into your ear.

His laugh was one of your favourite sounds in the world and you just couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m glad you find amusement in my embarrassment,” you tell him, feigning offence.

Jeff’s laugher slowly dies down despite knowing you were teasing and his voice becomes soft, “You have to be able to laugh about it,” he says. You could imagine him shrugging as he spoke, that small sheepish smile on his face.

“Yeah,” you murmur, closing your eyes. “I guess you do.”

It was silent between the two of you, a comfortable silence that you’d grown to love over the course of your four month relationship. You loved that you didn’t need to fill the air with mindless filler conversations or awkward storytelling and that you can just sit quietly with one another and still have quality time each other.

“Hey,” he drawls, “how about we just completely skip this party tonight and hang out?” Jeff suggests.

Keep reading

  • Yang: PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON! What's the one thing I told you?! Don't embarrass the family!
  • Weiss: I don't think she's embarrassing it - Whoa! Why is she doing splits?
  • Blake: Huh, is this that Facebook thing I keep hearing about?
  • Weiss: Does this thing take dollar bills?
  • Yang: Come on! That's my sister! And you're looking at her naked!
  • Weiss: So? She's not our sister.
  • Yang: Stop looking at her!
  • Weiss: Why does Jaune get to look?
  • Jaune: Hey! Why does your room get so much more natural light than ours? It gives the interior a much more airy and open feeling.
  • Yang: That's why Jaune gets to look.
Barcelona 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4-1 Chapter 4-2

A/N: Steve knows. Bucky knows…and now the rest of the team knows. Part two to Barcelona. Enjoy!

“Do you know that I have no memories of my parents?” He spoke as I walked up behind him. “I remember every mission and every kill, but I can’t remember my childhood. I know I must have had one, but I’m so far removed that it all seems like a pipe dream.” He says, his eyes gazing into the distance of the inky sea that sparkled in the silvery moonlight.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

“Me too.” He said tossing a rock that skimmed across the surface of the sea.

He turns and looks at me before he brushed passed me.

“Talk to me, please.” I choked.

He stops and inhales deeply, his shoulders rising and falling. “How can something so beautiful cause me so much pain?”

I stared into his glistening eyes. “I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m scared, James. Please, can’t you understand that much?”

“Were you ever going to tell me or do the deed and then just pretend that everything is fine?”

The deed. Is that what he thinks? That this is something that can be easily destroyed and forgotten without dire consequences? He was too angry and I was too shocked to explain it in a way for him to understand, so I said nothing and did nothing, just watched as he walked away as the phantoms in his mind thought of multiple scenarios, which were all incorrect.

The team completed its missions in Barcelona and are on their way back to New York City.

“Where’s Mr. Manchurian?” Tony asked gazing at his watch. “We’ve got a flight schedule and I’ve got a burger and fries waiting for me.”

“God forbid if Tony doesn’t get his burger and fries.” Clint laughs.

“Have you ever had a cold burger or cold fries?” he grimaced. “Completely disgusting. Now a cold pizza—.”

“You look like the pineapple on your pizza type.” Sam interjected. Getting a chuckle from everyone in the room including me.

Tony turned and glared at Sam. He was about to speak when the unthinkable happened.

This was my first time laying eyes on Bucky since we had our encounter two days ago. I don’t know where he’s been sleeping, but I do know where he’s been. The stench of alcohol and bad decisions made its grand entrance before he did. The team knew something was going on between us, but they didn’t know the extent of it until now.

He trudge or should I stumbled into the room, taking with it the light and airy conversation and replacing it with a palpable silence so intense that it seemed almost tangible and tangy enough to taste along with the black eye and dried blood on his knuckle, which was hard miss.

“How’s my baby?” He asked, planting a wet kiss on my cheek.

“Fine.” I whispered.

“Oh, not you, Doll. I meant my other baby.” He stated as he saw the wide-eyed look on everyone’s face except Steve. “She’s pregnant.” He announced. “She’s carrying my child…my son or my daughter is growing in there.” He pointed to my stomach, which I touched instinctively.

I was shaking my head, begging him not to do this. “James, please.” I plead, grabbing ahold of his arm that he snatched harshly out of my grip causing me to stagger.

“Buck.” Steve says as a warning, but Bucky didn’t yield, instead he lifts the bottle to his lips and swallowed.

He hiccuped. “She only calls me James when she’s trying to be very serious. “James, please” he mocked. “Please what, Dollface? They’re going to find out, so why not drop the bomb. She’s planning on killing our child…my child.” He paused. “And she wasn’t going to tell me, but thanks to my good ole buddy, Steve. I know everything.”

All eyes went to Steve, who was sitting with his arms folded  across his chest and a grim look on his face.

“Okay, that’s enough oversharing for one night.” Tony says approaching us.

“James, can we talk about this?”

He turns his attention away from Tony and gazes at me coldly. “What’s there to talk about?”

“I’m scared. We never talked about having kids and…” I trailed off.

“And that gives you the right to do this thing?”

“It’s my body.” I declared.

“And that’s MY CHILD!” He bellowed, tossing the half empty whiskey bottle that shattered as it hit the adjacent wall.. “Our child. You don’t get to make that decision by yourself, you selfish bitch!”

I don’t know what hurt more in that moment, being called a bitch by my boyfriend in a room full of people or feeling and hearing the bones break in my hand as he blocked the slap with his strong arm that was meant for his face.

I doubled over in pain, looking up at him with tears streaming down my face as I unleashed my venom. “They might’ve fixed your brain, but you are still an assassin and I would rather die than carry the child of a killer.” I spewed.

The adrenaline in the room was off the charts, I know I crossed the line with that comment, but so did he. Torment is the only word that can describe the look on his face, I can’t recall all of what happened in the next moment, but Bucky was on the floor, being pinned down by something or someone and I was screaming and writhing in physical and emotional pain before I blacked out.

Yes, my lovely readers there will be a part 3.

Tag list: @raeintheusa @mizzzpink @arhabella @girlwith100names  @courtneychicken @harleycativy @littlewolfieposts

Braids & War Paint (Part 2)

Notes on:

Part 1:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Rowan Whitethorn had been many places, he’s traveled to every direction, climbed a plethora of mountains, has lived in cities that are nothing more than dirt now and nothing he’s seen will compare to the wildness of Terrasen and it’s people. Wild in the fact the citizens of Terrasen have such a connection to their home, the air is cleaner when everyone cares for it. It reminded him of Mistward. 

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you’re like coming home

Kent’s house was becoming Jeff’s favorite place.

At first he’d thought it was a bit stupid for Kent to get a house as opposed to an apartment, but once Kent was close to finished with it, it seemed… right. It was perfect for him. The house was a decent size, with a big kitchen and high ceilings. The windows let in beautiful sunlight and all of his furniture was comfortable, arranged so that conversation was easy and the television wasn’t the most important thing in the room. His cat had plenty of room to roam and she liked sitting by the large windows, surveying the world. Kent’s little cactus and succulent collection had plenty of sunlight.

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anonymous asked:

Hello:D so the fics you wrote for some of the boys hearing their s/o singing were absolutely adorable, and i was wondering if maybe you would do one for reaper or gabriel please? :3


Originally posted by redanian

A/N: I’m actually surprised it took me a while to find a song for Gabe. I had originally wanted to write something really angsty but decided not to since the following 3 were mainly fluff. Might as well keep the theme going.

Other ones can be found here.

(Hozier- Work Song)

“Amor…” Reyes’ voice is tired and drawled, muffled by lush plump of a hotel pillow. He’s too close to the mic on his phone, most likely holding it close so either McCree nor Genji can listen in on you two.

“Gabe, you’re supposed to be on a mission.” You point out, fingers typing away on your keyboard. The commander groans loudly over the line and you can’t help but smile.

“I miss the sound of your voice.” He mutters, tone smushed as it sounds much too close to the mic. A sense of giddiness builds and blossoms in your chest. Warmth spreading over you as you pause to focus on your tired boyfriend’s voice. He’s most likely in bed, snuggled up against the sheets and pillows. “I miss you.” He mumbles, genuine with no hesitation. You can practically sense the smile that paints itself on his face.

“I miss you too but it’s late, Gabby. You need to sleep.” You cross your arm around your chest, taking a small spin in your chair to occupy your body’s inactivity. As much as you want to talk to him, you know you have to let him rest properly

He pucker his lips, eyes closed and ears focused on you. “I can’t, Amor. Shimada and McCree won’t stop arguing!” The noise in the background, one of which you hadn’t even noticed, is hushed down. You can only assume it frightened the boys to hear their tired commander raise his voice none too kindly.

Taking a sip from your mug, you look at the work you’d set out to finish. The endless paragraphs of words melding together suddenly putting you off from working on them. “Want me to read you a story? Sing you a lullaby?”

“Mmm…” He adjust himself properly. Tossing and turning while getting comfortable on the stiff hotel mattress. His voice is a whisper yet you can hear the fatigue evident in the slur of his words. “I like it when you sing.”

A smile. “A lullaby it is then.”

Gabriel ponders it for a moment. The steadiness of his breathing the only thing that echoes through receiver. “Mhmm.” You titter at the sluggishness but indulge him. He works hard and the least you can do it sing him a lullaby. The lights on your monitor dim from its idleness and the dark room makes it a bit easier for you to imagine you’re with him.

“Boys workin’ on empty. Is that the kind'a way to face the burning heat?” Your voice is slow and steady with a low and airy tone. A calm exhale rings from his end that urges you to continue. “I just think about my baby. I’m so full of love I could barely eat.”

“Keep going…” He mumbles voice deep with exhaustion.

“There’s nothing sweeter than my baby. I’d never want once from the cherry tree, ‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be.” A chaste grin pulls at your mouth. “He gives me toothaches just from kissing me.

Gabriel can feel the null of sleep.“When my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth.” He truly loves the sound of your voice. “No grave can hold my body down. I’ll crawl home to- Gabe?” You’re met with silence, a small jingle of spurs ringing in the far distance. There’s a sound of muffled shuffling before it settles into quiet once more. “Hello, Gabriel?” A short and tired ‘Howdy’ rings through followed by a yawn. The noise quiets, a small chuckle sounds past your lips as you lean back on your chair. “He fell asleep didn’t he, Jesse?”

The cowboy hums in confirmation. “Yeah, kinda funny watchin’ ‘em struggle to stay awake.” He remarks while scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Thanks for getting’ ‘em to sleep though. Lord knows he needs the rest.”

“Mhm, seemed like it.” You nod. “Tuck him in for me, will ya, Jess?”

The cowboy yawns once more. “Sure thing, boss. G’night.”

“Goodnight, boys.”

  • zoe and connor developed a kind of morse code through their bedroom walls so they can communicate even if theyre grounded, or if larry and cynthia are fighting, or if they just cant sleep and want to talk
  • connor reads a lot of poetry and draws all around the words on the pages. hes thought about being an illustrator before
  • zoe uses a lot of calming scent diffusers in her room; everything is light and airy and clean, but she still has an all time low poster on her closet door from middle school
  • zoe likes to collect flowers on her walks with evan and she presses them and uses them to decorate her room
  • connor sometimes finds pressed flowers in his poetry books from zoe, and he keeps them in a special place in his desk drawer
  • connor takes the longest showers in the world and it drives zoe up the wall bc by the time she gets in all the hot water is GONE
  • when larry is being too tough on connor, zoe is not afraid to speak up. shes blunt and she tells it like it is. with both connor and larry
  • zoe likes to pluck at her guitar on summer evenings outside when she thinks no one is paying attention. connor opens the window in his room and just lays and stares at the ceiling and listens, bc he just cant find the strength to get out of bed that day
  • connor is not usually good at showing zoe that he cares about her..but when she failed her driving test he took her to get ice cream and sat w her all night while they watched her favorite movies

I jolted awake from my heavy slumber to a faint, but definitely present sound. I heard it once, and waited for it again. Nothing. Maybe I was just hearing things?

I looked to the clock on my nightstand table. It read 4:49 in the morning. What the hell?


There it was again. It came from the window. Cautiously, I rose from my bed to see who the hell could be outside my window at this hour.

Down below stood the small-looking silhouette of none other than Calum. He had a smirk on his face that told me he was up to no good. But then again, he always was.

Opening the window, I rested each arm on the sill to get a better look at him. “What are you doing here, it’s like, 5 in the morning,” I muttered. My voice was groggy and strained from sleep.

He shrugged. “I wish I knew. Let me up?”

He was insane. My parents’ room was right next door. Even in the dark, his stupid sparkly eyes danced with naughtiness. What a horndog.

“How am I supposed to do that? I’m on the second floor!”

“Unlock the back door downstairs!” he whisper-yelled, motioning to the back of the house.

“Can’t your dick wait till it’s light out before it gets wet?” I ask, condescendingly, as if I don’t want to fuck him right this second.

“Not when it comes to you,” he smirked before disappearing to the backyard. Now I had to go down there.

My body was jittering already with excitement. I felt a familiar twinge in my breasts that made my heart skip and suddenly I was extremely eager to get downstairs. I took a moment to take a deep breath so I could make it past my parents’ room without waking them. 

Tip-toeing as fast as I could down the stairs, I opened the door just enough for Calum’s tall, lean body to slip through. His frame towered over my smaller one, exhaling a breath on my face as a shut the door. He smelled slightly of whiskey. He was buzzed. Not drunk, just a bit tipsy.

I rolled my eyes and decided against questioning him about why he was drinking without me. Instead, I allowed him to take me by the hand and guide me into the living room.

“Don’t you want to go upstairs?” I whispered.

“I was thinking,” he mirrored my quiet tone, differing from mine with a buzzing, airy lightness. “I’ve fucked you plenty of times in your bedroom before, and I’ll fuck you there plenty more times in the future.”

His crass words made me shiver with excitement. “Yeah, so what?”

He crouched down to my height and planted wet, tipsy lips against mine, sliding his tongue across my bottom lip. “So, wouldn’t it be so much dirtier if we did it on the sofa instead?”


“With your parents right upstairs.”

“You’re such a horndog, Cal,” I joked, knowingly. He knew what I liked, he knew all my weird, kinky likes and desires, and his confidence was stronger from the booze. He was glowing from it, and he knew it too.

He pulled me close to him again, this time with a little more force, and gently wiped some hair away from my ears. “That’s Daddy to you.”

I tried leaning forward to kiss him roughly in sheer desire, but he stopped me before I could. His lengthy fingers grabbed hold of my chin My chubby cheeks puffed out as he did this. My instinct was to take his fingers and put them in my mouth, but he wasn’t having it. He felt the strain as my mouth tried to escape his touch. He tightened his fingers.

“Don’t fight me, baby,” he whispered with slight intensity. I gulped as he pushed me down onto the sofa behind me.

I felt my boobs jiggle as I hit the surface of the couch and became very aware that I was not wearing a bra, or panties for that matter. Just a T-shirt.

He sat himself next to me and ever-so slowly started tracing his hand up my shirt. I think he too was aware of my lack of undergarments.

His index finger traced the distance from my belly-button to the nape of my breasts. He started laying me down now. I could feel my nipples harden at the suspense of his touch.

A hot breath huffed out when his index finger reached my left nipple and started pinching and kneading the area around it. My head fell back and I hummed in appreciation. Wanting to revel in this beginning-stage of foreplay, I guided his other hand to mirror the same activities as his left hand.

He allowed this, and watched endearingly as I licked my lips and let my head hang back. He’d pushed my shirt up to my neck so my breasts, as well as the rest of me, were exposed to the cool air.

I hummed a bit more and whined just a little, earning his mouth on my right breast. His warm, wet mouth suckled for a few seconds at the entirety of my nipple He took my it between his teeth and bit it. I shrieked at the sudden pressure.

He stopped.

“Quiet, baby. You don’t want your parents to find us, do you?”

My eyes widened for a moment before I shook my head. Of course not.

He sat up a bit straighter, sliding his hands down to my hips, curving away from my midsection and onto my thighs. “You dirty, dirty girl.”

I said nothing. I was too stricken with his raw sexual magnetism to speak.

“You’re my dirty, filthy little slut, aren’t you?” his voice was rough and raw, it made my mouth fall open.

I nodded.

But this wasn’t enough for him. “Say it.”

I gulped. He was so fucking sexy, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“Say it for Daddy.

“I’m your filthy little slut, Daddy,” I whimpered. My nipples were taught now. I wanted him to slap my breasts, bite my neck, finger-shaped bruises on my ass, anything!

“Fuck yes you are,” he whispered before yanking my legs toward him and brining my pussy millimeters from his talented mouth. His hot breath unleashed more and more wetness from me with every passing second. Fuck, why wouldn’t he just eat me already?

“Remember, baby,” he took a long pause, just to make me stir and writhe in his touch. “Keep quiet, or we’ll get caught.”

Seconds later, he buries his mouth into me, lapping up my flowing juices, slowly making his way up. He made sure to hit every fold and make drenched, suckling sounds.

My pussy contracted with this heavenly euphoria. How was he so good at this? The way his mouth moved, the way his jaw sharpened with every flick of his fucking tongue, it was like he was making out with my pussy. Like it was his job.

I focused on keeping quiet, which proved to be harder than I thought, especially when he went to town on my clit.

He kissed, nipped, and took long laps at it. My chest heaved up and down. I let my mouth hang wide open with my tongue hanging out, so all the sounds leaving me were nothing but pants and quiet shrieks.

It was when he started moaning into me when I felt that last big wave of pleasure engulf me and start to feel like I was going to cum. My hands had been tugging at his hair relentlessly and guiding him along. Now, I’d succumbed to biting my bottom lip with every strength in my body to encase the disastrously loud noises begging to escape from  me.

He coaxed my orgasm out of me, whispering sexy nothings like, “come for me, baby” and “keep quiet”.

He flicked his tongue a certain way once, twice, three, four, five times. Six. Seven. My hands flew from his scalp to my mouth to cover up my inevitable soundscape.

“Fucking hell, Daddy,” I whimpered. “Fuck, yes, yes, fuck!”

Even after my orgasm, he kept sucking and sucking away at me, stealing my soul and leaving me to have to push my face against the wall to avoid screaming.

He followed me, sucking at me now from a whole new angle. Knees pressing to the leather sofa, I practically sat on his face as he lay underneath my increasingly parting thighs, sucking and suckling until I was horny all over again.

He then let go of me, slid up to meet my hardly-open eyes. He used the side of his hand to wipe away excess wetness from his mouth, and licked his lips.

I was completely out of breath and strength. I hardly even heard him say, “c'mere, baby.”

I did, and was met with a hot, wet kiss. I knew he found it incredibly sexy when I kissed him after he had just eaten me out. He moaned into the kiss and I immediately wanted to make him feel the way I had not two minutes before.

I deepened the kiss, grasping my hands around the back of his neck, rubbing his hair. He hummed, liking that.

Feeling a little more strength rejuvenate as he did this, I rose, pressing his chest up with one hand, until we were sitting upright. His eyelids were heavy as I pressed him down on the sofa now, running my hands along his chest and down to his belt buckle. I knew Calum didn’t like wasting time, and neither did I, especially not tonight.

He helped me undo his pants as my fidgeting hands struggled. I focused on kissing his brown neck, a perfect canvas for hickies. I kissed his lips, and cheeks before getting to his jawline and nipping at the area.

He winced, and took a quick breath. Just like I wanted.

I kissed it again. Wetter this time. I let my breath hit the area to give him chills and make him squirm just a little. Then, I went back, biting the area hard now and sucking as I did so. He let out an elongated whiney-groan. He was getting restless.

“Now baby. Fuck me now,” he demanded. I look him in the eye. His begging, glassy eyes.

I keep my eyes on him as I tug his pants down his legs and release his straining dick. My stomach flips as I hover over it. I deeply kiss him once more, letting his tongue into my mouth, and sucking on it in the process. I brush my ass against his dick, making his head fall back behind him.

His eyes roll to the back of his head, just for a second, letting out an airy, “fuck”.

I could feel myself dropping now. I needed him, selfishly, again. Slowly now, but finally, I eased him into me. I gasped at the sudden heat rise in the room. My midsection explodes as I try to get myself full from him.

He lets out a huff. His hands now rub my ass and thighs. I start bouncing, slowly at first, getting a rhythm. Speeding up, I rock myself back and forth, side to side.

Calum struggles to keep his sounds down to nose, breaths and enclosed moans. His long fingers dig into my side and guide me the way he wants me to go. I can tell from his applied force that they will bruise. Excited by this, I comply, trying to loosen my hips.

New waves of heat kept washing over me. My shirt stuck to the small of my back, which was now drenched in sweat as Calum rubbed and slid his hands all over it. He noticed the shirt amongst his touch of my  middle and forced his eyes open for a moment. “Shirt off. Now.”

I nod, hardly even hearing him. My hands fumble to the hem of my shirt, bring it over my head and toss it behind me. Seeing this, he becomes more desperate. My breasts bounce with the rhythm in which he guides me and the sound of my thighs clapping against his middle is more prominent. He fights to keep watch on my body above him, but his eyes betray him. His nostrils flare open and he brings his lips together to lick them. He almost looked pissed off; angry, even. His eyebrows bunched together. He was so fucking sexy.

I closed my eyes again, replaying the image of his face in my head. I felt lost in the feeling as he guided me, faster now.

His hips start to buckle and lift off the sofa as he becomes louder. I want to tell him to shut up before my parents woke up. The thought of being caught like this, doing something we weren’t supposed to be doing, fuck, it made everything more hot.

All that exists in that moment is Calum and I. The slick sound of him sliding in and out of me again and again is just white noise. His rhythm starts to subside and becomes faster and faster as we get closer.

I can feel him twitch inside me when he finally releases, he starts practically swirling my hips around and around on top of him in a way I’d never experienced before. His sloppy, intense attempt to ride out every last bit of sexual energy between us sends me over the edge to my second orgasm, making me fight to keep myself quiet.

The bucking of Calum’s hips slows and slows until he finally collapses back onto the couch. I let myself fall forward onto his hard chest. I bury my face into his neck and try to catch my breath. My heart feels like a hammer banging against a sheet.

He starts rubbing a shaking hand down my hair and back for a while. I feel very close to him as he does this, and lean into his very delicate touch even after all that intensity. We don’t speak.

After what feels like hours, but really is only minutes, I turn my head to look at the clock on the wall. It’s just after 6 in the morning. I turn back, mustering up energy to look at Calum up close. I noticed the beading sweat on his forehead I hadn’t seen before. I felt exhausted. I kissed his still slightly panting lips to wake him up a little.

He opened an eye at me and weakly smirked.

“What?” I breathed.

He took a moment to gulp before answering. “You’re such a dirty girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, hornball, you need to get up. My dad wakes up at 6:15, and if he sees you here, we’re both toast.”

“Oh, so now you worry about being caught?” He smirks bigger now.

I lift myself off him. “Shut up.” I rise off the couch to retrieve my shirt from the floor and he starts buckling his pants. I feel like I’m sleep walking. I yawn as I help him stand.

We quietly walk to the back of the house, where I first let him in.

“Hey, it’s light out now,” he said.

I nod, glancing at the clock. 6:13. My father’s alarm clock would be going off any minute.

“Well, baby, it was a privilege fucking you into the sunrise,” he says confidently before pecking me on the cheek. “Call you later!”

I smirk madly to myself. Horndog.

succ&fucc saturday™ 

Wavering Heaven

Request: “I’ve just read Coffee Shopes and Scars and could you do a part 2?? It was just so cute and wonderful!!!”

Word Count: 3,767

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 1

Tag List: @dont-give-a-bother @caseoffics @red-roses-and-stories @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ly–canthrope @benniesgalaxy

Sunbeams strike your husband’s face. The golden light outlines the soft freckles dotting his face. His lips are parted, taking in and letting out deep breaths. His chest rises and fall in the same peaceful rhythm as his breaths, casting a shadow on your arm over and over. The sight brings a smile to your face as you run a thumb over his cheekbone and down a small scar on his cheek courtesy of your own clumsiness when dealing with a murtlap. You don’t feel too guilty given the amount of scars crawling up and down your arms that Newt caused before you met him.

The coffee shop where you first met Newt earns your business at least once a year, sometimes more if the two of you happen to stay in town for any amount of time. The sweet little shop hasn’t grown or changed much, aside from investing in more durable vases. Newt had proposed there six months after you first fell for him, then brought you back the past three years for your anniversary.

You trace shapes with his freckles as you contemplate your marriage and how you ended up somewhere so vastly different from anywhere you’d ever even dreamed of. Newt is heaven. He’s a blessing that has only ever proved the existence of soulmates, that the universe didn’t mess up when it brought the two of you together.

A tide of peaceful joy swells in your chest when Newt shifts, murmuring nonsense as he wakes up.

“Good morning, darling.” You say, pulling your hand back to your side.

He blinks his green eyes open, smiling when he sees you. “Morning, love.” He mumbles.

His sleepy smile warms you. “You must have slept well.”

“Quite well.”

“I didn’t see you come to bed.”

He stretches, revealing a strip of skin on his stomach that you run your fingers over. “Pickett wanted to talk. He wouldn’t stop ‘til I let him sleep in my vest pocket.”

That explains why the vest is so nicely hung on the coat rack in the corner. “I guess I should just be happy you made it to bed at all.”

His cheeks tinge pink as he slides out of bed and changes the subject, heading to the dresser. “You’re shopping today, right?”

You step next to him, giggling at his expression when he notices his jade sweater grazing the middle of your thighs. “That was the plan. Need something?”

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Utopias (Part 3)

Libra: Open spaces and airy, mountainous, a place to breathe, to balance, to think. The wind makes their hair dance. Houses seem balanced on the edges, views to envy. There are rooms like studios, a place for controlled messiness, for the creativity of Venus to express, yet the rest of the housing is immaculately designed. Most live in pairs, yet the wider community is also cherished.

Scorpio: Beautiful Gothic designs, castles and ruins, yet light seems to dance. Privacy is respected, but so is connection, and inauthenticity sticks out like a sore thumb here. There are creatures that you cannot quite tell if they are ugly or cute, a duality. Devotion and loyalty are held up as virtues. There is a dark humour here, but also great wisdom.

Sagittarius: Green and open, places to run and tumble, but also places to sit and ponder. A natural prettiness, but not heavily designed, natural, placed by the hands of something higher. Sport and competition is encouraged though not valued more than the mental and spiritual talents that their inhabitants gift to the world. There is a warmth in the air, a free spiritedness, a place to visit for anyone that feels blue.

Title: Berserk | Chapter Twelve

Rated: T (language/violence)

Summary: Berserk. Out of control with anger. This is what Natsu was born to be. A warrior soaked in blood. A murderer. This is what Pergrande turned him into. Taken at a young age by the King, Natsu is a soldier of the Royal Army, a creature of rage and violence—a weapon. Lucy is a thief from Fiore with a price on her head. Natsu is sent to kill her. When they meet it isn’t pretty at all.

Word Count: 4532

| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven |

*Because tumblr is garbage, nothing with an outside link shows up in the tags. Therefor, I have removed the FF link. The chapter is also now on FF, so feel free to leave a reply there or do whatever you want to do.

{i’ll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}

Natsu inhales sharply as he awakens, his body going stiff as finds himself in an unfamiliar place. Frantic eyes dark around what little he can see of the room, a door, articles of clothing scattered across the floor, haphazard and significantly less that he thinks it should be. He tries to swallow, confusing sweeping through him, but his mouth and throat are bone dry. Squeezing his eyes shut, Natsu tries to remember what happened last night, where he is and how he got here. His mind is foggy, slow as he drifts between worlds like a ghost.

It comes back to him quickly enough once the last tendrils of unconsciousness release him from their grasp. The fight. The blood. Becoming a monster—murderer. That’s what he is. Maybe that’s what he’s always been. The kind of beast His Majesty has always wanted. He’s a—Natsu shakes the thoughts away, relaxing just the slightest as clarity comes back to him, the haze of sleep slipping away from his mind.

Jorah. He’s in Jorah. He made it. They both did.

His shoulders go rigid, muscles tensing when he realizes he can’t feel Lucy’s presence against his back, her warmth along the length of his spine, her breath against his shoulder blades. He was dimly aware of her constant presence throughout the night, always there when he was lying awake, drifting in and out with the pull of the moon. Natsu holds his breath, body impossibly still as he listens, hoping she’s only rolled away from him in the night. He doesn’t look, afraid of what he might find; afraid of what he might not find.

But there’s no heat coming from behind him, no soft sounds of sleep. Natsu knows that she murmurs in her sleep, especially in the early mornings, awake but not entirely. He doesn’t need to look to know she isn’t there. It’s something he can feel deep in his bones. Most of his short life he’s been alone, and loneliness is something engraved in him. Natsu knows when he’s utterly alone.

Lucy is gone. She has been for some time now. Her scent is faint in the musty air, twinges of stardust tickling at his nose when he inhales a certain way. This is the third time her scent has been so faint to him, the first when he was sent to follow her—to kill her, the second only the night before.

For the longest time he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to find her at all. She made so many twists and turns through the town, wandering and walking in circles. Waiting. He would have searched all night to find her if he needed to. He made a promise to her. He intends to keep it. No matter how long it takes him, he intends to keep it, if she’ll let him.

He’s beginning to notice a pattern, one that he doesn’t particularly like. She keeps disappearing on him, leaving him hours behind her, stumbling to catch up. He doesn’t like the faint tickle of her scent in his nose, gone before he can lock onto it. It makes him uneasy, realizing she’s gone. He doesn’t like being able to tell how long or which direction she’s gone. It can be helpful, yes, but he thinks it would be better not knowing.

For a moment, a horrible thought comes to mind, but he banishes it from his mind before it can fester into something worse. He killed a man last night, now she’s gone. Natsu’s teeth grind together harshly, his hands curling into shaking fists. He knows they aren’t related. He knows they aren’t, but it doesn’t stop the stinging in his chest, it doesn’t stop him from folding in on himself.

Natsu sits up slowly, glancing around the room once more, slower this time. He didn’t get much of a look at the room last night, too confused, too tired, too lost. It’s cramped he notices, only about twice the size of his former cell, which isn’t saying much, all things considered. His cell was meant for containment, nothing more. It was claustrophobic, damp, but, oh, did it echo. Natsu could hear everything in that cell. Every scream from his brothers.

Perhaps the Berserk he fought last night screamed once too, before they broke him.

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Coincidence - BONUS - (Jimin x Reader)

Originally posted by kimthehyung

Admin: Mimi

Description: Life goes on, and you move with it after reconciling with Jimin.

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 2586

Authors Note: The ‘final’ part to my series Coincidence! The last part was a bit open-ended, so I wanted to make a bonus chapter for everyone as a thank you for the feedback I got on that story! This can be read as a stand-alone fic, you don’t have to read the other parts before this one. I hope you enjoy, and happy reading!

 - PART 1 - 

 - PART 2 -

 - PART 3 -

Keep reading