We were talking about poetry,
one winter afternoon,
the sky the same hue as your eyes,
but with the darkness of mine.
You told me, “All poetry is about
sex, God, or death.”
I teased you,
“How could you forget about love?”

You’ve entranced
and transfixed me, my love.
You’re all my poetry
ever talks about.
So let me attempt to learn
from the masters,
I’ll try my hand
at the other topics
that consumed them.

But how can I write about sex
and now write about you?
In my head
there is a map
of your body
and a winding path
that my lips and hands
long to follow.
Your body is a fire
and I’m desperate to burn.

But how can I write about God
and not write about you?
I touch your hand like
I’m turning the pages of a holy book,
but I love you with the fierceness
of a sinner turned devout,
I love you like you’re my last chance
at paradise.
I love you because we know the ugliest
parts of each other,
but we still choose forgiveness
every single day.
Your love is the bookmark I forgot
about from the chapter in my
childhood when I believed
without reservations.
You are the miracle who taught the
atheist to have faith.

But how can I write about death
and not write about you?
If death had come for me
before my lips had brushed yours,
I would have surely walked the earth
as a ghost, unable to move on
because if I have a purpose, a calling,
it must be to love you with
every fragile cell
of my mortal body.
And someday you will die,
and if I do not if I
will still be around to see it,
but of this I am certain:
the earth
will rumble
and rupture
and crack itself open
in its grief,
and the seas will wish
they could drown themselves,
and maybe the sun
will even blow herself out
because how could she
bare to shine
if you were not around to see it?

—  everything comes back to you // L.H

anonymous asked:

"Tim, come to bed ... coffee can't keep you up forever"

“Tim, come to bed … coffee can’t keep you up forever.” You rub your eyes and try to focus them on the dark figure that is your boyfriend.

“No, but it will keep me up long enough.” Tim says, his eyes transfixed on the screen in front of him as his fingers dance across the keyboard.

“You said that two hours ago.” You walk over to stand next to him. “Tim, the case can wait. You need to sleep.”

“I’m almost done, Y/N. I promise.” He still hasn’t looked at you, and it’s beginning to frustrate you. In one swift movement, you close his laptop and hold it to your chest as you press your lips against his.

“You can have this back once you get eight hours of sleep.” You say when you pull away from him, leaving Tim slightly shocked and flustered as you make your way back to your room.

The black markings did not restrict themselves to his face and lekku.

It was an unseasonably warm day on Odessen, the sun shining brightly, and while the Eternal Fleet may not be taking the day off, the Alliance was. The air inside the base was stuffy and still even with the air circulators and Massosri ordered everyone out of the compound. Lana had protested, saying they had too much to do, but he merely had to lay his hands on his shoulders and look down at her with those bewitching violet eyes and all objections died.

He hadn’t been the only one to shed layers, removing his heavy robes, stripping down to the plain pants he wore beneath. She found herself transfixed by the dark slashes and points that marked his chest and back. They seemed to trace and accentuate every curve and muscle from swooshes along his ribs, to chevrons down his chest. Based on the tips and curves peaking out from under the waistband of his pants, she could only guess that the markings covered the rest of his body.

Then again she had her chance to discover that for herself in private, had she not lost her nerve.

To his credit, he hadn’t seemed angry or offended, not accepting any explanation why she hadn’t appeared at his Quarters that night like she said she would. She still felt she owed him at least something, but he was perfectly content with letting it go.

Lana was currently watching as a young Apprentice of some Sith Lord that had recently joined the Alliance fawned over him. She touched him unnecessarily, laying her hand on his arm, laughing at something he said. Her touch lingered just a little too long as she pulled her hand away, fingers tracing over the muscle and Lana caught the way his cheeks tinted at the contact. Old habits were hard to shake, the power grabs of Sith politics being one of them. She had it on good authority that the Lord had ordered his Apprentice to cozy up to the Commander, get in his good graces if not his bed, increase their standing in the Alliance. As if that was how it worked. This wasn’t the Empire.

With a sigh, she went over to them.

“Commander.” She said and the Apprentice had the gall to shoot her a dirty look.

“Yes, Lana?” He asked, the deep richness of his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“May I speak with you a moment?” She asked.

“Of course.” He said and turned his attention back to the Apprentice, “If you’ll excuse me.” The Jedi bowed his head at her and followed Lana as she led him away into the forest.

“You’ll want to watch out for that one.” She said once they were a ways away, “She’s acting under orders from her Master to get close to you.”

“Oh, I know.” Massosri said, “I knew from the start that her interest was disingenuous.”

“And you played along because…” She may have sounded a little angry.

“I wasn’t ‘playing along’, Lana.” He said, “Had she propositioned me, I would have declined.”

“But in the mean time, you let her think she was pulling you in.”

“Lana, are you jealous?”

“Wh-what?!” She stopped, turning to face him. “No, I’m not jealous! What a preposterous notion!” He merely gave her a small smile that told her he didn’t believe her. “Really! I’m not jealous!”

“Okay, I believe you.” He said, his tone placating. Massosri went to her, standing in front of her so closely that she could feel the heat of his skin. “Lana, she didn’t interest me in the slightest.”

“I didn’t think she would.” Lana said, unable to look at him, staring instead at a chevron on his chest.


“She’s not your type.”

“You’re right, she isn’t.” He said and she looked up at him then. His hand came up and she swallowed as he touched her jaw lightly, her lips parting.

Her eyes closed as he kissed her, heart pounding at his sudden boldness. Her hands pressed against his chest, pulling down his skin as his breath caught as she touched his stomach, muscles bunching under her palms. There was an errant thought of sliding her hand under the waistband of his pants to see if he wore anything beneath, but they weren’t in a place anywhere near private enough for that. Massosri pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers and there was a pause before he kissed her again, harder this time, his hands holding her jaw. Lana held onto him as he parted her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth to swirl against hers. Heat curled through her veins and she pressed against him, fingers flexing into the muscle of his back.

When he pulled away again, he did so completely, giving her a knowing smile before he walked away and she was the one left wanting.

I’ve been having a lot of #Emotions about trans Ladybug and Chat Noir lately so take some head canons.

  • Miraculous transformations take the wielder’s wants into consideration, and change to best reflect the ideal vision that person has of themselves.
  • Marinette’s Ladybug suit is equipped with clever bits of padding in the chest and hips, giving her a more shapely appearance. It also comes with a magical self-tucking mechanism that she tries not to think too hard about but definitely appreciates once that skintight suit conforms to every inch of her body. Additionally, her hair is glossier, her eyelashes are longer, and her voice sounds just a bit higher than usual when she’s transformed.
  • Like Ladybug, Adrien’s Chat Noir suit is also padded, only his is in the shoulders and (later on, after seriously bribing Plagg) a bit below the belt. Beyond that he’s got hidden wedges in his boots to give him a height boost and a god-tier binder. His hair and voice also undergo a slight change, becoming shaggier and deeper respectively.
  • I think for about the first year of their partnership Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t out as trans to each other- either because they are nervous about how the other might react or because for the first time in their lives  they are in a position where they don’t have to be out. They can just do their thing and save the day without an extra label floating over their heads.
  • Of course after they spend more time together, growing closer as partners and friends, they start to pick up little hints that maybe just maybe they arent alone in this whole trans superhero thing. Those clues pile up until one day Chat accidentally lets slip one of his many trans-related puns, effectively letting the cat out of the bag. Panicked, he tries to play it off as nothing, but Ladybug has already put two and two together and is already BEAMING. “Thank goodness,” she laughs, clapping Chat on the shoulder. “For a minute there I thought I was the only one!” 
  • Ladybug then proceeds to gush about how great their suits are and how glad she is to hear they’ve got one more thing in common and Chat is just hit over the head with this massive wave of relief, because he has never ever had someone react so well to his coming out and he can literally feel himself fall more in love with his Lady by the minute.
  • Cue them both being supportive af, helping each other through the unique challenges they have to face. Chat is there to lift Ladybug’s spirits when her HRT causes mood drops; Ladybug makes sure Chat doesn’t overexert himself in the weeks after his top surgery; They both joke and laugh and bond over their shared identity in a way that they just cant with their cis friends and everything is good and happy.
  • Eventually the reveal happens, and eventually Adrien and Marinette start dating, and eventually Ladybug and Chat Noir publicly come out as trans, becoming role models for non-cis kids all over the world. Then they grow up, get married, and adopt 3 cats 7 hamsters and 4 children and live happily ever after the end <3

who run the world?
nina zenik

Nina had grieved for her loss of power, for the connection she’d felt to the living world. She’d resented this shadow gift. It had seemed like a sham, a punishment. But just as surely as life connected everything, so did death. It was that endless, fast-running river. She’d dipped her fingers into its current, held the eddy of its power in her hand. She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths, she would never drown.

BTS’s reaction to their s/o having a PDA addiction:

💌 requested by @pastelxxwitch (your English isn’t bad at all, sweetie!)

A/N: As I mentioned before, I don’t write NSFW, but hopefully I was able to do this request justice. I made it super fluffy. Hope you enjoy it, loves~ 💖

Jin: You have a problem, you know you do. It’s too much - you always go too far. But when you get the urge to cuddle your boyfriend over a respectable family dinner, it’s not something you can easily dismiss. He’s looking so handsome, serving stew to his mother, sleeves rolled up, shirt damp with sweat and kitchen steam - less like a boyfriend, more like a husband. A husband that needs a barrage of hugging and kissing as punishment for being so drop-dead gorgeous.

As he sits down opposite, you give him a look – the look – to let him know what’s up. He doesn’t get the hint at first, so you inch your toes across the wooden flood until you find his shape under the table, and give his leg a nudge with your foot.

His eyes flicker to yours, brows raised in amusement. You’ve been together long enough to understand what his silent signals mean. Translation: “So, playing footsie is a thing we do now?”

You rub your foot up and down the inside of his calf, smiling at him through half-lidded eyes. Translation: “Yes, it’s a thing we do. Starting now.”

Jin looks you up and down, totally distracted now. You’re winning. Just a little more, and he’ll bend to your will. With one last brush of your toe against his trouser leg he stands up, displacing his glass of water, so that a few drops spot the table. “I just remembered that there’s a bottle of wine I forgot to open. Y/N, come and help me get the wine glasses.”

That’s your cue to leave, following him to the kitchen for an emergency make-out session:

“Was there a reason you desperately needed to disrupt our family dinner?”

“You were looking unfairly handsome,” you reply, “You needed to be punished.”

“With kisses?”

“The worst type of punishment.” You kiss him to prove you mean it.

Originally posted by jinmini

Yoongi: Well, this is new.

Normally, you have to beg Yoongi for hugs in public – pulling on his sweater sleeves, pulling on his hair, pulling on his ragged ends with pleas of “Please, Yoongi. Please.” Then he’d roll his eyes, shuffle closer and drape you in his warmth, with an arm around your shoulder while he mumbled about how embarrassing you are.

But today - today is different. And you certainly aren’t complaining.

Pressing his nose into your neck, pulling you closer, his hands fall around your waist, reaching down until they find leverage in the back pockets of your jeans. Without you asking; without him kicking and screaming and making a fuss about it.

You have to pull back a fraction to check his cheeks, which burn pink, just to make sure this is definitely your boyfriend and not some weird, alien replacement.

“What?” he demands.

You shake your head, and curl your arms around his neck. “Nothing… I just though you didn’t like cuddling in public.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He burrows deeper, pressing his face into the fabric of your shirt. “I call this an emergency.”


He nods. “I was running low on hugs.”

Originally posted by leojuseyo

Hoseok: You fidget anxiously. It’s been three hours, fifteen minutes and nine seconds since your last cuddle with Hoseok, and you’re beginning to feel cold already – what you need right now is a hug, or a hand in your hand, anything really, you’re not picky. But in the middle of the supermarket, mid weekly shop, isn’t the best place or time to tackle your boyfriend. Still, his back is looking exceptionally inviting underneath that tight-fitting t-shirt, just asking for you to snatch him up as he stretches up to reach a cereal box on the highest shelf.

As he turns back to toss the box in the shopping trolley, he pauses, eyeing you up and down, and that’s when you realise you’ve been biting your lip all this time, making heart-eyes his way. Not so subtle.

“What?” he asks, although he knows exactly ‘what’.

You press your palms onto the trolley’s handle and push it in his direction so the metal frame bumps against him. “Don’t ‘what?’ me.”

His response is a chuckle. “Is it that bad? You need me that much?”

You nod, and he licks his lips, before glancing up and down the aisle. There’s no one about. A motion of his hand is all the invitation you need to dive into his arms, and drown him in kisses, hidden by the shelves of biscuits and crisps.

Originally posted by itsrapmonster

Namjoon: “Namjoon, I need a hug.” You hold your arms out to your boyfriend.

“What why? Are you feeling okay?” As usual, Namjoon’s brain is spinning with possible reasons for this sudden request. Are you down? Depressed? Feeling lonely or anxious? Whatever it is, Namjoon’s ready to hug it away, even if you are in the middle of the main street.

You just shake your head at his concern, your smile stretching fondly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just love you. And I want a hug.”

That’s all you need to say. Namjoon’s face relaxes, his shoulders sag, and he breathes a sigh of relief. A hug for love’s sake. Of course. In one step, he’s by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist – not because it’s raining in your heart, or the sky above you is crumbling down, or the very fabric of the Earth is fraying. But just because you wanted it.

And you also – “Was that the first time you said that you love me?” he asks.

“I think it was.”

“Well. I love you too.”



Originally posted by bangthebae

Jimin: You have a new hobby: embarrassing your boyfriend in front of his friends.

Jimin, who’s normally more snuggly than your bed on a rainy Monday morning, forgets all about your habitual cuddling when he’s with his group, keeping his distance instead, and getting jumpy when you brush against him.

Now that you’ve figured out how much power you possess – with him pleading “please – not so much PDA while I’m around my friends, I need to keep some semblance of my masculinity”, and you cooing back “sure thing, my squishy mochi” – it’s time to wreak some havoc.

The next time you’re at Taehyung’s house, you decide to put your plan in motion, pouncing on Jimin and tackling him to the couch. This should be fun.

“What are you doing?” His cheeks rise a couple of shades of red.

“Just cuddling like we normally do, mochi-wochi,” you purr, settling yourself in his lap.

The other boys burst out laughing at your actions, while Jimin squirms underneath you, trying to wriggle free. But it’s no use. Cuddling is serious business to you, and there’s no way you’re letting him go.

Sighing, he surrenders, and with his masculinity in shreds, he kisses your cheek as a form of peace-keeping. “Alright you win,” he mumbles, “Just, please, no more ‘mochi-wochi’.”

Originally posted by minblush

Taehyung: You and Taehyung are tied together by the heartstrings. You have a connection that you can’t quite explain, and somehow, you both seem to know exactly when the other’s craving touch - feelings so in sync, Taehyung needs you exactly when you need him.

Today is no exception. You’re sitting in a café with Taehyung, smiling stupidly-in-love over ice-cream sundaes, when all of a sudden you need – need – to cuddle with him, or your heart might seize up.

Without a word, without warning, you slip out of your seat, and rounding the table to Taehyung’s side, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He twists his neck to gaze up at you, brown eyes blinking. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just really needed a hug, all of a sudden.”

“Good, me too.” He grins, and you duck your head down for a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

With a smooth motion, he slides his chair back, making room for you to sit on his lap, which you’re more than happy to accept, and from this perch you have easy access to his triple-chocolate knickerbocker glory.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Taehyung scoffs, as you lick chocolate sauce off his spoon, “You only like me for my desserts?”

“Opps. Exposed,” you laugh, and Taehyung leans in to peck a stray speck of chocolate from your chin.

When you kiss back again, he shivers below you, body responding before he can control it. Forgetting the café around you, the hustle and bustle of baristas and customers, you and Taehyung melt into each other like the ice-cream in your bowl.

Originally posted by buisually-appealing

Jungkook: Jungkook doesn’t like cuddling in public. It’s something you learnt about him a long time ago, on your first date in fact, sharing secrets with a game of ’20 questions’ - when he said ‘I’m embarrassed to touch in public’ you had almost ended the relationship then and there. How were you – one of the clingiest, touchy-feeliest people on the planet – going to cope with a guy who melted into a blushing pile of mush any time you so much as brushed fingers in public. Even when you got him to hold your hand, murmuring ‘Look, see? No one minds, no one’s looking,’ he’d still stay as stiff as steel, and snap your fingers apart when anyone so much as glanced in your general direction.

Thankfully, you had discovered a way to combat the problem, crafting the perfect date for you and your boyfriend – a public place where you could touch to your heart’s content, without Jungkook shying away from the eyes of disapproving grannies and curious children: a magical place called the cinema.

Seated in the back row, you can share a bag of popcorn and as many kisses as you want, without fear of being watched. With everyone else transfixed on the film, you and Jungkook can devote yourselves to each other. As the movie heroes strike out on quests to discover new lands, you explore new parts of Jungkook, acquainting yourself with every centimetre of exposed skin: cheeks, neck, knuckles, the inside of his wrists, any part he gives. He relaxes in your arms, and watching him unfurl for you is better than any film – he is your masterpiece, better directed that Steven Spielberg. In the dark of the cinema, you fall in love.

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

! I did not make the gifs !


“Still making eyes at a puddle?”

There is a moment of quietness there, in the middle of the chase. Of beauty. Of sorrow. As Heather‘s face rises from the water, as Bill gazes over the edge of the puddle, transfixed, a soft smile on her face, it first becomes clear that at its core, their confrontations are not about fear. They are about longing.

It is barely the sketch of romance. Eyes meeting. A few sentences traded, with awkwardness, but with compassion too. So much unfulfilled promise, in more ways than one. Fragments of information. Of stars and defects. Of the desire to flee. Of what happens when so much alienation encounters a puddle, a single tear drop, left behind all alone in a strange world. But all of time and space at her fingertips only reveal how much she is truly yearning. For that connection not quite made. Sadness is scarier than any other monster. And the girl with the star in her eye is made of tears.

carly’s pynch fic rec

basically, i’ve read a lot of fic, some of which i haven’t seen on rec lists on tumblr anywhere and i just thought that had to be remedied so: here we go. ten fics sorted by word count. most of them are multichapter, and rated M or E.

★★★★★144k+ words, rated M, completed

light with a sharpened edge by poetic_leopard aka @winterblues

Adam Parrish works as a sober companion, but he has no idea of the storm that’s soon to hit him when Ronan Lynch turns out to be his newest client. (Or the one where Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch are trapped underneath the same roof for six weeks.)*Ronan, to his surprise, opened his eyes. For a breathless moment, Adam was transfixed in them. They were the color of the ocean on the most azure of nights, lightning right before it struck the ground, damp hydrangeas on a fog-swept morning. Those eyes gave him chills.

this fic!! solidly one of my favorite fics! (although, i’m only recommending my favorites) ronan is a little more of an asshole than usual, but, it’s an AU so.. it works. the writing in this is lovely and poetic and leaves you hanging off of every word. 

[more recs under the cut]

Keep reading

The Arrangement (Part 15)

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Summary: You have an encounter with Mark, and Dean shows up just in time. The next morning, the two of you talk things out. Sam arrives with some news.

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: physical/sexual assault (minor, no injuries or anything but I know that can be a trigger), language, general angst, low-grade physical violence, little bit of smut… some of everything in this one

A/N: Buckle in, this one is long and jam-packed…. also I think there’s only two more parts left, guys… which makes me SO sad. Thank you all for your continued love for this series, I cannot believe how it’s taken off. You’re all awesome. Also picking a gif for this WAS SO HARD because there are so many Dean moments I wanted to show. But I went with angry because reasons…

Catch up on the series HERE

Keep reading



Yooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 100 partsss triple digits me dudes, hitting those milestones^^ and by now everyone should know how much I love changing the characters outfits lol. uniform time

And I just finished my chinese hw and gotta go to sleep cause it’s late but uhh hope you guys enjoy.

Part 100

Start from Beginning


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[lips | jimin]

Based off of the beautiful piece “Hands,” written by @btssmutgalore 

summary; Of the multitude of things you loved about Jimin, his lips were one of the more important.

You love them when they whisper. When they shout, when they’re silent.

You love his lips. The plumpness, the way that his skin is so smooth that his Cupid’s bow is really only visible riiight above his upper lip. You love the way they curl up when he laughs, his eyes turning into little crescent moons and how yours always seem to turn upwards at the sight.

You love the way he bites at them, tugs gently with his teeth as he considers something, ponders a thought.

You love the way he uses them to sing, how they seem smaller when his mouth is stretched open when he’s hitting a high note. You love them on stage, when he’s panting after dancing his ass off and his lips are glistening with sweat a little, plump, perfect.

You love the way he artfully utilizes them to leave marks down the expanse of your body; leaving tiny purple stars behind his trail of illumination. That’s it- he’s a star and he tries to portray the entire galaxy on your body, however, when he’s finished, you’re far more stunning than his masterpiece.

“I love you.”

You love them when he uses them to love you. When he asks you “have you eaten today?” or “how did you sleep?” and you know those are his little ways of showing you just how much he loves you without having to say it all the time.

God, you love them when he cries, how they get a little more plump, bruised, red as he lets the tears stream down. You hate it when he cries, but as you hold him and promise him whatever he needs to hear- you love his lips.

They’re amazing when they touch your warm skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your thighs before burying themselves in between them. You love them when they make you see stars as you’re gripping onto the sheets, his hair, anything.

You love them when they moan your name, when they forget any other word they’ve ever spoken and it’s only you, you, you.

You love his lips when they change your mind. When they make you think twice about something you’ve said or heard; when they make you think deep about what truly matters and you think-

“Huh. I guess he’s right.”

You love them when they whisper. When they shout, when they’re silent. You love them when they curse, when they moan, when they whine. You love them when they turn upwards, downwards, or remain the same.

You love how they laugh, giggle, that tiny little laugh of his. A joke, a TV show, a funny face- anything to have that spilling from his lips is a godsend and you spend your time thanking those very things.

You most certainly love them when his tongue is peeking through them as he pounds into you, and you can’t think of your own goddamn name. And you want to yell, to scream his, and you do- and then you become transfixed on his lips.

You love them when he drinks his coffee, his tea, his anything, how he’ll lick them afterwards as if he’s trying to relish the last bit of the sweetness before he has to move on with his day.

They’re beautiful when he frowns, smiles, anything. They’re constantly beautiful and plush and you stare at them far too much for your own good, but he doesn’t care too much because he decides he enjoys yours just the same.

Source: mymarsrevolution

Past all conscious thought or any fear of consequence, Jamie Fraser acted on the instinct that had seen him through a dozen battles. He snatched one pistol from the transfixed Jeffries, turned on his heel, and fired in the same motion. The roar of the shot struck everyone silent. Even the child ceased to scream. Ellesmere’s face went quite blank, thick eyebrows raised in question. Then he staggered, and Jamie leapt forward, noting with a sort of detached clarity the small round hole in the baby’s trailing drapery, where the pistol ball had passed through it.
He stood then rooted on the hearthrug, heedless of the fire scorching the backs of his legs, of the still-heaving body of Ellesmere at his feet, of the regular, hysterical shrieks of Lady Dunsany, piercing as a peacock’s. He stood, eyes tight closed, shaking like a leaf, unable either to move or to think, arms wrapped tight about the shapeless, squirming, squawking bundle that contained his son.

Excerpt From: Diana Gabaldon. “Voyager.” iBooks.



So uhh Happy One Year Anniversary?? that’s right it’s been one whole fucking year since this comic started it wasn’t supposed to last a year tbH

Actually I started Feburary 9th last year not 10th (you can see the upload date on the first post) so I was gonna post it yesterday but I’ve been sick with the flu and it’s been kinda hard to do anything. Honestly I’m still sick so the lighting quality isn’t so great this time. 

Also I was still reacting to the new Taz episode cause I’m not ok

so yeah, one year and still more to come

Part 83

Start from Beginning


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