and im here to change that okay

in bruges colin farrell: a soft irish potato, round and smol. needs many hugs cuddling comfort love. moody, bad at maths, sad, deserved better. may or may not be dead. eyebrows. 

fright night colin farrell: what the fucking flying fuck happened here i mean jesus christ this dude t h i s  d u d e what the F U C K happened what the h e l l oh my god even ur grandma is blushing he smiles and u burst into flames the fuck is wrong with you my man why u rubbing apples on ur chest how did so much change in 3 years this is NOT OKAY im yellign the fuck ?? is happening fucking fuck time to fucking die holy hecking hell im sw e a ti n g aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

And after it all… I’m sitting outside- the sun hitting my skin and laughing with the people that matter. You’re not here and I’m okay. Y0u’re gone and for the first time, I wouldn’t change a thing.
—  Thanks for giving me the chance to be better

“This is the story of when stars meet the ground. This is the story of when Plant boy Phil met Space boy Dan”

Here you have, I did a thing. I just love this AU so much!!! And I have like this huge plot with this AU maybe one day (after I finish all those requests) I’ll develop it, who knows.

Well, it’s late here for me so im gonna sleep.

Love you all, bye!

the-corpses-were-fake  asked:

(okay no we have to change that you don't get stuff for ask memes so if you're up for it how about 84 or 85 in the writing one :3? Because your hamburr au au was really really cute btw!!! )

This has been sitting in my inbox for the longest time now I am so s o r r y

So! Here it is! Number 85: Write an AU fic! Including canon era idiots, a soulmate au premise, and canon divergence because I wanted to avoid death if at all possible!

For most people, soulmates only exist as a nuisance. As something to complain about when they stub their toe or trip and skin their knee, because when one of a pair does, the other feels that pain as surely as if it were their own.

Most people don’t meet their soulmates in their lifetime. The world is, after all, very wide. Those who do are considered fortunate. Those who don’t find them, though, tend to find love on their own terms and are none the worse for it. Even though the pain that your soulmate feels is a constant that never goes away, no matter how hard you fall for someone else. An aching reminder that there is supposedly someone out there meant for you and you alone.

Burr has never given much thought to his soulmate, and when he does, it is nothing but annoyance, because it seems that whoever they are, they are constantly getting themselves into trouble. Have been since they were a kid. But as soon as the gun goes off, he knows, because he is watching with dread to see where the bullet strikes, his shout still ringing in the air but doing nothing to stop its deadly advance. I didn’t mean it, he thinks, and the bullet strikes right between Hamilton’s ribs.

An identical pain blooms in his chest, and it is all he can do to stay upright, and he knows.

He thinks he staggers forward. Hard to say; everything has gone a bit blurry and indistinct. He can hear nothing but the roaring of blood in his ears, can feel nothing but the sharp, stabbing pains running through him. The wound could very well be fatal, but he shies away from that thought. It won’t be; Hamilton will pull through, like he always does, and if he could just speak to him-

Then, he is being pulled back, and it is Van Ness’ hands on his shoulders, Van Ness who is saying something to him, his face frantic. There are few people out there who he would actually consider his friend, but Van Ness is one of them.

Once upon a time, Alexander had been another.

“-pull yourself together! We need to get you out of here, and-”

“William,” he breathes, a hand coming up to clutch at his chest. There should be blood there, but there isn’t, because it is Hamilton’s wound, not his, a wound that he dealt and-

He doesn’t know what his face looks like, but it must be a sight to behold. Whatever expression he’s making makes Van Ness stop where he is and stare, his gaze flickering back and forth between him and where Hamilton is lying on the ground.

“Shit,” he breathes after a moment, and Aaron can’t help but nod in agreement. “He’s your…? Nevermind, that just makes it more important to get you out of here right now.”

This time, he doesn’t protest, allows himself to be escorted away. His mind has gone blissfully numb.

Miraculously, Hamilton survives the night. And the next. And the next. Aaron begins to suspect, even as he rubs at the incessant ache, that while the literal bullet hit its mark, they have dodged the figurative one.

One of them, at least.

And that is how he finds himself on the Hamiltons’ doorstep one day, in no small amount of distress as Angelica Church glares at him, halfway hidden behind the door to her brother-in-law’s home. “Give me one good reason,” she is saying, “as to why I should allow you inside. Haven’t you done enough damage already?” Every word is like a viper sent to bite at his ankles, and for a moment, he considers running.

But that is not what he has come here to do.

“My sincerest apologies, Mrs. Church,” he says. “I have no intentions of doing anyone any harm today. But please, I really must speak to Hamilton, it is of utmost importance to me-”

Her glower deepens. “Oh, you must, must you?” she snaps, and then her attention is taken by a voice from inside. “Yes, it’s him,” she says, and pauses. The indistinct voice says something else. “No, I was just sending him on his way, but-” And then, the door opens wider, revealing Elizabeth Hamilton, eyes tired and sad.

“Come in, Mr. Burr,” she says. “I assume you are not here to carry out what you started with?”

“I am not, and even if I was, I am unarmed,” he assures her, and enters at her bidding. She leads him down the hallway in silence, their footsteps echoing one another’s. She stops at the foot of a staircase.

“Your actions almost cost me my husband,” she tells him, and he bows his head. Before he can respond, however, she continues. “And I fear they still will.” She stares pointedly at his chest, and he realizes with a start that he was rubbing at it again, absentmindedly. And looking into her eyes, he can tell that she knows exactly why he’s here.

“I have no intention of taking him from you,” he says.

She smiles, a small, sad thing, and shakes her head. “You couldn’t if you tried,” she says, “and I doubt you would. My worry is that he will go with you willingly.”

The worst thing is that he cannot even tell her that her fears are unfounded. And she knows it. She sighs.

“Do what you came here to do,” she tells him. “His room is the first you’ll come on.”

He thanks her and walks up the stairs. What else can he do? He cannot ease her pain anymore than she can ease his.

Eliza, he thinks, is a wise woman. She will outlive them all yet.

Hamilton is waiting for him. It is obvious in the lack of surprise in his eyes and bearing when he knocks and enters. And the way his gaze holds for a breath too long at his chest makes something else glaringly clear.

“You knew,” Aaron says, slumping into a chair by Hamilton’s bedside. “You knew.”

Hamilton’s eyes are tired too, though in a different way than Eliza’s. Perhaps this is why he answers in the way he does. “Yes,” he says simply, without prevarication or elaboration.

“You would have let me kill you.” It is not a question. Aaron already knows the answer. What he wants to know is why, and Hamilton knows it too.

“I suppose,” he replies. “I have to admit, I didn’t really expect you to. That came as a surprise. I still don’t understand why you were so angry. It was politics, not personal.”

Aaron laughs, and is surprised by the bitterness in it. “With us, it’s always personal,” he says, and feels slightly gratified when Hamilton concedes the point with a nod of his head, cracking a wry smile.

“You have a point,” he allows. “And in any case, I had no intention of hurting you. I’ve never wanted that, even putting all of-” He gestures to the two of them- “this aside.”

And that brings them right back to the point, something for which Aaron is grateful. He doesn’t particularly want to discuss the duel at the moment. Or ever, if he’s being honest. “How long have you known?” he asks, and they wince in tandem at the pain that shoots through them when Hamilton shrugs.

“Since the war,” he admits, and Aaron is surprised at the red hot anger that the words summon. “When you got heatstroke, do you remember? I’ll admit, dealing with that on top of everything else made things rather-”

“You knew all this time and you didn’t tell me.”

“And what should I have said?” Hamilton snaps, and oh, yes, there is that temper. Aaron can almost admit he missed it, as little sense as that makes. “I had Eliza and you had your Theodosia, and we were both happy. Upsetting the balance seemed foolish.”

“You mean upsetting your reputation seemed foolish,” Aaron corrects, and stands. At this point, he doesn’t know what to think anymore. One one hand, he knows that Hamilton makes a good point; he loved Theo and still does, and adding Hamilton to that would only have caused unnecessary confusion and strife.

But at the same time, knowing that Hamilton, his soulmate- and he still doesn’t know what he should do with that information- was within arms reach for most of his life and saw fit not to tell him about it… that burns.

“I don’t know what I thought I’d accomplish here,” he says, and moves toward the door. His visit thus far has caused him nothing but frustration, and at this point, he is ready to leave. There is only so much exposure to Hamilton he can take in one sitting.

He has almost exited before Hamilton makes his move. “Burr, wait!” he calls, and he must shift in place or try to sit up or do something, because a fresh wave of agony rips through him and leaves him fighting for breath and leaning heavily on the doorframe. Behind him, Hamilton is panting in a similar manner.

You did this, he reminds himself, as if he could ever forget.

“What is it you want from me, Alexander?” he asks, the familiar name slipping out without his consent. He hates the way his voice sounds far more pleading than angry, but it is too late to take it back.

There is a beat of silence, and then:

“Stay?” Alexander asks softly, and he turns to look at the man, this man he has known and loved and hated his entire life.

He should leave.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he crosses the floor to sit back down in that chair, and he stays. And he knows exactly the reason why, even if it’s not something he’ll ever care to admit.

Alexander has always been a difficult man to say no to.




Originally I wanted to draw @infinitesimalee drawn out as a fairy and have her fly around Link, but nope, My OC Colin took over my feels and uh this is what happened. He’s 20 ft tall but I thought her “Meet the Artist” info height was 4″ not 5′4″! So I feel dumb, and this is so quickly drawn that she’s barely visible ahh okay welp here it is.

Real talk

I miss talking to you guys! I’ve been kind of hovering here lately, only posting pics and such, because I haven’t had a lot of time, with work and life being hella busy.

BUT I WANT TO TALK TO YOU GUYS MORE. Come say hi, tell me about your day, tell me a secret, fangirl about books, tell me what music you’re into lately, or just tell me whatever comes in your head. If you need help with anything and you’d rather not talk to me here, I have an advice blog as well :) Non-anon messages will be answered in private. It’s okay to IM me as well. I might not reply immediately, but I usually get to it in a couple of days tops.

Just… come talk to me. I’ve noticed that when I had a smaller follower base, I interacted more with you guys. I don’t want that to change. It’s the whole reason I made this blog - to talk to people and find common ground in the love of books and things bookish. 

And last but not least: GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE PARTICIPATING IN NANOWRIMO! I believe in you, now go write that book! <3

With all my love (and cookies),

Mary <3

roses ; (demigod) do kyungsoo


the first part of my demigod!exo series (may possibly have a second part). kyungsoo as hades’ son.


i actually did research on this shit to make sure it was accurate to the actual mythology pieces that these things were derived from okay writing the dialogue without any shortened things (i am to i’m) killed me so i went back and changed it im sorry (reminder that jongdae is next // lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next oneshot @i-am-a-death-dealer @dead-violinist @suedetonkin)

demigod masterpost;;


Originally posted by kyunqdae

Keep reading

It’s after getting to kiss him sober and mumble ‘Kentarou’ against his shoulder in an effort to find out how the name feels in his mouth. 

Do yourself a favor and read Destroy the Middle (It’s A Waste of Time) By @knightswatch

i miss ten so much i hopes hes alright and eats well and changed his spongebob underwear that johnny gave him on his bday and listens to im yours by jason mraz and is happy and well😔 ten if youre out there i have ketchup flavored chips in the shape of a bears head if youre hungry ill send it to you w my hyper velocity powers so youre okay…… FLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING knock knock jessi here open the door pussyboy here are the chips

HQ Kareshi (Onsen): Yamaguchi Tadashi

Yamaguchi: Fuwaa- that was delicious!

Yamaguchi: I’m full!!

Yamaguchi: Right now the open air bath seems to be free so…lets change into our yukatas and go

Yamaguchi: If we could reserve it that would be nice~ 

Keep reading

Someday -  (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: The Soldier wants to share his name, when he finds out what it is.

Word Count - 1325

Warnings - torture, i guess, maybe some sadness, idk man, but aLSO FLUFF


A/N - I changed your request slightly because I wanted Bucky to try and plan something and yeah, you’ll see, I think you’ll like this a bit better hopefully, also waited until midnight to post this so it’s your birthday xoxo

Song - The Way You Look Tonight by Tony Bennett

“Oh my god.”

They dragged his almost lifeless body into your lab, his blood creating sinister train tracks leading up to your feet. They dropped him to the floor, his elbows smashing into the ground, barely keeping his hanging head from doing the same. The guard gave a silent solemn nod, which you knew to be a command.

Fix him up.

You pulled him upwards as best as you could without hurting him, and led him to the chair. His hair was sweaty and hanging in his face, doing little to mask the swelling and bruising that was happening there. The welts that covered his smooth skin made you cringe internally, and the dried blood was crusting off like snowflakes, similar to the weather outside.

“What trouble did you go and get yourself into this time?” You asked lightheartedly, prepping your tools.

“Didn’t I tell you to return to me in one piece, soldier?” You teased playfully. He tried to smile but the swelling didn’t allow anything more than a half grimace. He remained silent for a while.

‘She’s too lovely for a place like this.’ He thought. Whilst he was grateful to have you, he couldn’t help but think that princesses didn’t belong here, in this palace of pain, dilapidated and horrifying. You weren’t meant to be here.

“I didn’t do this on a mission.” The soldier spoke monotonously. You paused, before dabbing a cotton swab into ethanol and cleaning one of the gashes on his shoulder.

“They did it.” You whispered. The soldier hung his head, and so did you. You didn’t want him to see how his words affected you, how his pain became your pain. He didn’t want you to see how weak he was. You wanted him to talk, to tell you how he was feeling, but he wasn’t a man of many words, and you were okay with that.

Compared to when you first met him, he was a poet. Your first meeting, if you could even call it that, was completely silent. They threw a body onto your chair, and told you to patch him up and put him to sleep. You did as you were told. He stared at you the entire time you worked, never saying a word, never even flinching when you pulled bullets out of his flesh. And you put him to sleep.

When he woke up, he was the same, silent, stoic, intimidating. You checked his vitals without a word and escorted him to where he needed to be. You didn’t know what would happen to him. Maybe you would’ve never taken him if you did.

The first time you heard his screams was the worst.

You realised that he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to hurt people.

When you placed him back in cryo, you could see the burns from the electroshock. Stricken with grief for this poor soldier, you grasped his large, rough hand in your petite one, squeezing reassuringly. Although his natural instinct was to fall asleep, his head snapped up. Looking at your intertwined hands, he scowled at you incredulously, not believing that you would dare touch him. Why were you touching him?! His first instinct was to crush your tiny hand in his. But he didn’t. His head lulled to the side, and the panel slid shut.

You admitted, you liked to talk to him when you got lonely, which was often. You didn’t know if he could hear you, but it’s not like he would ever tell you if he could, and you needed a friend. Even an unwilling one.

Each time he woke up, you loved to watch his eyelashes flutter open. You couldn’t wait to feel his hand in yours. Somewhere along the way, you fell in love with the Winter Soldier. You were foolish. The soldier couldn’t possibly feel anything. Or so you thought.

Until one day, the first word out of his mouth upon awakening was your name. And you greeted him with a small smile.

“They did it because I ran through the park. They thought I was trying to escape.” The soldier’s gruff tone snapped you out of your reverie.

“Why didn’t you?” You spoke gently, wrapping his arm up in gauze.

“I just wanted to see the flowers.” He spoke simply, as if seeing flowers were a viable reason for being beaten to semi consciousness. Yet, you understood. You’d only been here 6 months and you missed flowers dearly. He’s not seen flowers for god knows how long, probably since he was free. You wondered when that was.

Your head snapped up at the sound of rustling. He was unbuttoning his pants with his good arm, and your eyes widened slightly. What the hell was he doing? His hand reached into his boxers and you started to sweat. Oh my god, what did he want you to do? What was happening?

He pulled a tiny flower out of his boxers.

Well that, you weren’t expecting.

“Happy birthday Y/N.” He spoke gently. He offered the flower to you, and you noticed it’s misshapen form. It’s stem was twisted and browning, the leaves hung dejectedly, and the petals had all wilted. He felt idiotic that this was all he had to offer you.

“You remembered my birthday?” You gazed at the flower, awestruck. “It’s beautiful.”

Whilst you had helped the soldier learn how to become human again, he didn’t always understand some basic human things. He was confused as to how you could like the flower. It didn’t serve any purpose now, and was therefore obsolete.

“It’s broken.” He pointed out.

You turned your attention from the dainty flower. “Most beautiful things are.” You said seriously, looking him in the eye. He swallowed, and reached out for your hand.

“I’m pathetic. I don’t have a ring. I don’t even have a name. But someday, I will find out what my name is and I’ll share it with you.” He brushed your hair behind your ear. “If you’ll have me.” He added, slightly worried you wouldn’t want to marry him. He wouldn’t blame you,

“Yes soldier. Someday.” You whispered, brushing your lips against his. He kissed back tenderly, and leant his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You quickly pulled away however, when a guard entered your lab

“It’s time.” You nodded, and he left. The soldier slipped off the chair and stepped up into the chamber. How many times could you do this? Tears filled your eyes as you pierced his skin with the needle. You grasped his hand as usual. “It’s time to go back to me talking to you when you can’t hear me again.” You smiled a watery smile, your eyes overflowing with salty tears.

“Y/N.” You looked up into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I always hear you.” You nodded, acknowledging his beautiful yet simple sentiment. He wasn’t a man of words. And that was okay. His eyelashes fluttered shut. You pulled your hand away, and the glass slid into place, the frost coating the glass like paint. You could make out his face underneath though. The crease in his brow, the slope of his nose, the gash on his forehead. His hair hung in his eyes and you desperately wished you could open the chamber and brush it out like you always did.

You turned away from him, hoping to stop the tears slowly dropping down your cheeks, but you saw the little flower on the chair.

The most beautiful, damaged flower. The one he risked his life for. The only gift you got on your birthday. The best thing anyone had ever given you. You slid it into the pages of your notebook, pressing the pages together as you closed it.

“Someday.” You mumbled, going back to your work and dreaming of a word where you and the soldier could sit in the park all day. A world where he had a name.

Permanent Taglist:-

TAGS -  @awinterloveuniverse @this-isjustme@catwoman2417@oneshot-shit @sleepretreat @annadier @nea90sweetie@itsemmyb @expatiatethefeeling @tainted-feelings @georginator-3000@tokyrita @fantasticallycaitlin @aweways @science-of-deduction-sh @smileahoy @thegalaxybabyz @generation-hated @waywardimpalawriter @unevenpages @blessedbuck @all-around-geek @kimcarcrashin @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @hammersandshields @senselesscj @buckymorelikefuckmebarnes @tofe @astralbarnes @nefelcbata @buchananbarnestrash @angelicshinigami @bddybrnes @shawnmendes987q @sebbabylion @eileensalgado @avengerslover18 @captangstdean @satanicedition @pretentiousaf @hollycornish @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @thisrandombitch @myforeveryoungblog @karipaleta @illuminationunknown @professional-fandoms @goner300 @mllx-anazra @poe-also-bucky @ladydarkofmissandei @channelingsatan