i can haz it all and more

Dating Tom Holland Would Include....

  • Constantly bickering with Harrison on who Tom loves more. 
  • Always winning these fights
  • “Sorry mate, but have you seen her? She’s absolutely stunning.”
  • Having all sorts of adventures with Tom and Harrison
  • Because let’s face it, wherever Tom goes, Harrison follows.
  •  But never really minding because as long as Tom is around, so are you.
  • Tom always making sure that you’re okay. 
  • “You sure, love? Okay. I just want to make sure my girl is happy.” 
  • Him wrapping his arms around you every chance he gets.
  • Calling you every kind of cute nickname in the book because he can never just pick one.
  • “Babe, love, doll, sweetie, beautiful, gorgeous, cutie, honey,” All of them.
  • Sometimes finding himself just staring at you because he can not believe how lucky he is to have you.
  • Having to break up Tom and Harrison’s arguments on who loves you more. 
  • “Enough, you two. I swear you guys are like little kids fighting over a toy, and I am NOT a toy.” 
  • “Course you’re not, babe. But, I do love you more than Haz.” 
  • “I know you do. Why do you think I’m with you.” 
  • Tom leaving you with little notes that he placed everywhere.
  • “Hey babe, I love you!”
  • “Did you know you’re amazing?”
  • “You’re my girl, don’t ever forget.” 
  • “Call me when you find this!” 
  • “I could stare you forever.” 
  • “You’re the first and last person on my mind.” 
  • “I miss you.” 
  • Tom begging you to go with him everywhere because he just doesn’t want to leave you. 
  • “Please come with me.” 
  • “No, Tom. I have to work-”
  • “-but, I’m Spiderman. You don’t have to work.” 
  • “Did you just seriously use that line on me?”
  • “Did it work?” 
  • “Absolutely not, you dork. I love you, I do but I promise I’ll come visit. Okay?”
  • “Fine, but you better.” 
  • Always, always feeling guilty because you know that sometimes he gets a little bit of anxiety and stressed and you seem to be the only remedy. 
  • Flying out on the next flight possible.
  • And immediately all the stress and anxious thoughts are thrown out the window the minute he sees you. 
  • Him always whispering in your ear, “Thank you.” 
  • Always reassuring him that he’s earned all the success in his life.
  • Sometimes feeling a little scared that he’ll forget you with his oncoming fame. 
  • Tom reading you like a book and breaking these thoughts from your head. 
  • “You do know that I love you right? And that I wouldn’t be here without you. I’d be a wreck if I ever lost you. Don’t ever think for one second that I could make it without you.” 
  • Feeling reassured until the next time you felt scared. 
  • Tom always going above and beyond in his gifts for you on birthdays, anniversaries, and just because he want to’s. 
  • Him surprising you with a vacation to a place you’ve always wanted to visit. 
  • Following him basically anywhere and everywhere because he will literally get on his hands and knees to beg.
  • Forcing you to play basketball with him even though you know that there’s a reason why you’re not a pro basketball player. 
  • But always seeming to win.
  • Knowing that he lets you.
  • But never questioning it because it was his way of spending time with you.
  • Spending time with his family.
  • Because in a way, they’re your second family.
  • Tom’s mother commenting on how happy she is that Tom has found himself a wonderful girl.
  • His father agreeing one hundred percent and cracking jokes as to when they should expect the wedding.
  • His brothers always teasing Tom about how much you have him wrapped around your finger.
  • Blushing because you would never want him to be “whipped”, but it’s nice to know that you have that power.
  • Tom clapping back with, “At least I’ve got a girlfriend.” 
  • Laughing when they’d all get into a wrestling match.
  • “If I win, [Y/N] is mine!”
  • “No, if I win, [Y/N] mine!”
  • “Bloody Hell! You gits think you’re actually going to win? [Y/N] will always be mine, whether or not I do lose.” 
  • Going to the gym with him.
  • Getting distracted because by God those muscles should be illegal.
  • Him knowing it and teasing you about it.
  • Always getting back at him by doing anything and everything that shows of your figure.
  • Tom throwing down his weights and attacking you with kisses. 
  • Him always being respectful of your boundaries. 
  • Never pushing you to do things you don’t want to do. 
  • You loving him for it.
  • Knowing that you will eventually let him but just not right now because you’re not ready.
  • And him being perfectly okay with that.
  • Sparring with him.
  • Tom being beyond impressed at your skills.
  • Telling you everyday how much he loves you.
  • Begging him to take you to go get icecream even though he can’t really have any.
  • Scolding him when he says, “fuck it,” and gets himself some. 
  • “You’re trainer is going to be pissed.”
  • “So what.” 
  • Shaking your head and enjoying your icecream date with him.
  • Taking Tess out for walks together.
  • Taking a million pictures of her because she’s just so damn cute.
  • Lazy days with Tess
  • Cuddling the poor dog into suffocation until she can’t take it anymore and leaves.
  • Leaving you two clinging onto each other.
  • Tom leaving trails of kisses along your forehead.
  • Holding you tight.
  • Falling asleep in each other’s arms. 
  • Waking up in the middle of night, panicking because your parents are going to freak out.
  • Tom shooting out of bed to get you home.
  • Him trying to help you sneak into your house without your parents waking up.
  • Him mumbling that the two of you should just move out together.
  • Telling him that it would be a good idea but to talk about it later.
  • Tom always gushing about you in interviews.
  • Always being his plus one to the films you want to see.
  • Introducing you to your favorite actors.
  • Getting embarrassed when Robert Downey Jr. finally gets to meet you.
  • “SO, this is the girl you never shut up about? It’s about damn time I finally meet her. [Y/N], it’s so lovely to meet you. I feel like I practically know you with the amount of stuff Tom has told me about you.” 
  • Also getting a little embarrassed but not as embarrassed as when fans stop you on the streets.
  • Getting panicky because you’re just waiting for the hate.
  • But being surprised when it’s nothing but love and awe.
  • Agreeing to take pictures with them and asking to take one of them so you can put it on Instagram as well. 
  • Speaking of Instagram, Tom is forever posting sly pictures of you. 
  • You are literally all over his page.
  • But, it’s okay because he is all over yours.
  • You’ve been trending on #couplegoals for days
  • Threatening Tom with his life if he doesn’t stop posting the selfies you send him. 
  • Him not caring.
  • “I’ll take my chances, babe.”
  • Getting him back on snapchat with the crazy filters.
  • Agreeing to tone down the embarrassing pictures. 
  • But one or two always comes leaking out and you are forever mortified. 
  • Starting a prank war. 
  • You always seeming to have better pranks.
  • Feeling bad and deciding to call it off but not before Tom gets you really good. 
  • Laying out under the stars and talking about the future.
  • Telling each other that as long as you have each other, the future can bring whatever it wants.
  • Tom surprising you with a promise ring. 
  • “We’re both still really young and I know a lot of people our age are getting married but I just can’t imagine getting married at this moment. But at least with this, it’s a promise that you will have my last name, just not right now.” 
  • You accepting it because there is not a damn soul on this earth aside from Tom that you could see yourself with.
the signs as tumblr eras
  • 2010-2011 // the rise of tumblr. rage comics, wine mom humor, can i haz cheezburger, furry culture's prime: taurus, cancer
  • 2012 // the rise of fandoms. "the only post on tumblr with ______ notes on it", superwholock, "there's a supernatural gif for that", gifsets: gemini, sagittarius
  • 2013 // the rise of aesthetics. transparents, "touch my butt and buy me pizza", indie blogs, pastels: LIBRA, leo
  • 2014 // the rise of shitposts. "your fave is problematic", pepe, gay gay and more gay, dank memes: virgo, scorpio, pisces
  • 2015-2016 // the rise of memes. discourse, the meme revolution, astrology memes, callout culture: aries, AQUARIUS, capricorn

anonymous asked:

Can you link me to some writers? Wanna read a bit but no one I like posted lately so... xx

I pretty much recommend the same blogs every single time someone asks me for recs, haha…

@two-swallows-above-a-butterfly // @canistay-haz // @permanentcross // @horanandstylesaremyonlyreason // @rue-by-another-name // @cuddlemusclestyles // @stylessemantics // @trulymadlysydney // @geenalovesthelittlethings // @softharrysquad // @stylesbabygirls // @aqua-harry // @stylishmuser // @bubblecumhxrry // @islareeveswriting // @jawllines // @1989rosesxx.

There are probably a whole load more that I’ve forgotten about; I apologise to all those who did go missing from my brain tonight! I need to make a recommendations page for my blog to make this a little easier, I just haven’t gotten around to doing that yet! It is something that I’m planning on doing, I promise. xx

Definitely The Or

Liam has a decision to make—fulfill the promise he’s made to Sophia or go after Zayn.

[Chapter 2/2 of Little Swell of Maybe (a Wedding Crashers AU) (Chapter 1)] (ao3)

By the time Harry’s made his way back to the dressing room, any relative composure Liam’d had in front of Zayn has now flooded out of his body, leaving his cheeks chalk white and his shoulders slumped. His body has shriveled practically to half of its size, and Harry squeezes his eyes shut at the sight.

This isn’t how—this shouldn’t be how— He thinks somberly.

But it’s not his wedding, is it? And it’s not his choice to say, nor has it ever been.

“Liam?” Harry asks gently, dragging his feet over to where Liam has his hands pressed firmly against the top of the circular, wood table. Seeing that his arms are shaking as he stands over it, Harry breathes out through his mouth slowly before carefully stepping closer to Liam. He’s careful not to touch or crowd him, instead only offering him a concerned look as he waits in stunted silence.

Liam’s eyes flicker to his right just barely, but he doesn’t acknowledge him with words. Instead, his breathing stutters. Finally, Liam croaks, “I can’t do this, Haz.”

There’s a pause, a moment of panic where Harry attempts to come up with some elegant way to respond. “Is that because of the lad that just left?” Harry sighs finally, not quite sure how to help except to prod for more answers. “Renaldo?”

Liam lets out a wet, low chuckle, though, in all reality, it sounds more like his throat has been forced through a grater.

“His name’s not actually Renaldo,” Liam says easily. This part he can get out without emotion tainting his words. The other parts? He’s not so sure. “That was Zayn.”

Recognition flashes across Harry’s face as he pieces it all together. “The Zayn that you fell in love with in London when you were in uni, the Zayn you would not shut up about when I first met you in that dorm in America, the Zayn that fucking broke your heart? That very same Zayn?”

Liam forces himself to lift his head up and then down in some sort of response. He hums, “That’s the one.”

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I'm in a 'Thank you' mood...

It has been a very interesting (and difficult) start to 2017 for me. I have met new people, made new friends, had suicidal thoughts, fallen in love, been lied to and cheated on by the person I loved, been scared shitless about fucking up my life… just so many things. And it’s thanks to all the lovely angels that I have become great friends with, as well as the friends I made last year when I first joined Tumblr, that I have survived.

@dadshirtking, @heart-attack-harry, @happilyinlovewithharrystyles, @ifheartscouldfly, @bigdicksquadd, @nicegoodgolden, @two-swallows-above-a-butterfly, @secret-rendezvous1d, @moonlightharrys, @harrysart, @fayestardust, @haarrrrry, @never-enough-harry, @fairylightsstyles, @stylishfluff, @aboutalighthouse, @yetanotherharry, @magic-view, @canistay-haz, @packerhaz, @stylesunchained, @trulymadlysydney, @highlightstyles, @loveyooumeanit, @jojoleemac, @androgynoustyles, @emmy1dwriting, @hismyaestheticx, @lokiwinchester@stylishmuser,​ @styleshasalovelysoul, @manipsandeditsof1d, @happy-pride-harry, @adorkablehazza, @harryisthebaneofmyexistence, @legend-waitforit-harry​, @lcseventeen​ and so many more!

All of you have helped me in some way and I hope I can repay each and every one of you someday. Whether you live in America, Europe, Australia or Asia, it doesn’t matter. The distance doesn’t matter. 100 miles apart or 9,000 miles apart, I am extremely grateful to know all of you beautiful sunshines. Because of you, Tumblr has become a safe home for me in which I can share my thoughts and not be judged. All the private chats I have had with you guys has made my life just that little bit brighter. All of you are so important and precious to me, and every day, I wish to help you with whatever’s troubling you, just like you have helped me. I can never thank the boys enough for allowing me the chance to meet you and always remember that I love you and I am here for you whenever you need me.

All the love

Olivia xx

Hands To Myself

Roughly inspired by Hand to Myself by Selena Gomez. 
Just a side note that I really can’t write smut, I feel incredibly weird so I do apologize for the cliff hanger ;)

Can’t keep my hands to myself
No matter how hard I’m trying to
I want you all to myself
You’re metaphorical gin and juice

I mean I could but why would I want to?


It was convenient that Tom and [Y/N] lived right across the street from one another. It meant that they could just walk over and not have to worry about the awful London traffic. Or even that if they drank a little too much, their home was just a few feet over. It was great. What wasn’t convenient was that Tom and his best mate, Harrison, always, like clockwork played basketball every morning. And [Y/N] had the front row seats with her window facing the cul-de-sac they played on. 

[Y/N] had never been a sexual person. She just kept her hands in her lap and behaved like a good girl but ever since she had starting dating Tom, it was getting a lot harder to maintain the proper ladylike persona her parents had raised her to have. It seemed that even the simplest movements Tom would make would send her senses into overdrive and force her to have the mind of horny thirteen year old boy. And [Y/N] could bet money that Tom had no idea what he was doing to her, he was always such a gentlemen when it came to her personal space. Of course they would cuddle and have make-out sessions but he was always aware of where his hands would be. And [Y/N] loved that for the most part, she was adoring that Tom wasn’t acting out on his hormones and was being respectful of her body because her body wasn’t a piece of property that he could invite himself into whenever he pleased. But, there were days where she wished he would just use all his pent up sexual urges and show her what she did to him. 

And it didn’t help that this morning, Tom was shirtless. The sun was kissing his body and causing every curve and dip of his muscles glisten from the sweat that was covering his upper body. It was a taunt and it was driving her insane. She stood by the window, watching Harrison and Tom play for a few more minutes before she decided that she needed to do something to get the idea of what laid beyond the shorts that were covering the rest of him out of her head. 

Splashing cold water on her face, she looked in the mirror and noticed a small purple mark poking out from her shirt. Wincing, she pulled the collar down to inspect it a little more. She would admit the night before was one of their more friskier nights, Tom had never left a hickey before. It left her flustered and she could bet that seeing Tom this morning made the feelings come back twice as hard. Blowing air out of her mouth, she dug around in her drawer to find some concealer. Even though she was twenty, her parents would freak the hell out that she was engaging in any kind of physical contact with her boyfriend. If she didn’t still live at home, she would have shrugged and went on about her day. 

Dabbing some on until she felt that it was hidden enough, she closed her eyes when she heard the victory yells from Tom. Gripping the counter, she looked at herself. She could feel herself getting hot at the thought of what more could have happened the night before if her parents hadn’t came home so early. Swallowing hard, she told herself to get a grip. 

Walking towards her closet, she threw on some running shorts and a matching sports bra. Reaching around her jacket, she zipped it up halfway. [Y/N] needed to run off her hormones, put something else in her head. Walking into the kitchen to grab a protein bar, she noticed a note from her parents. 

Went shopping at the mall and then going to see a film. After that we’ll be going grocery shopping. Be home right before 6. Send a text if Tom and Harrison will be joining for dinner so I’ll be prepared. xx mom

Plucking the note from the fridge, she laid it on the counter and sent her mother a text saying that most likely Tom and Harrison will be coming over. Four out of the seven days, they normally did. Grabbing a sip of her water, she headed out the door. 

“[Y/N]! Come play with us, Haz needs all the help he can get.” Tom chuckled. 

Walking over towards the two boys who were dripping with sweat, she placed a peck on Tom’s cheek and patted Harrison’s shoulder. “Love to, but I’m going to go run a few miles.” 

“Ew,” Harrison groaned. 

“Ew, yourself.” [Y/N] responded, sticking out her tongue. She turned towards Tom in time to find him rake his eyes over her attire. Biting her lip, she tried to ignore his lingering gaze over her exposed torso. 

“I agree with Harrison, why are you running?” Tom asked, “You could get in your daily exercise right here with me.” He motioned towards the basketball hoop.

[Y/N] really wanted to respond with something inappropriate but decided against it. It was only going to make her situation worse. “I’ll pass, but maybe next time. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

“An hour?! How many fucking miles you plan on running, [Y/N]” Harrison sputtered. 

Shrugging, she started to jog backwards, “However many I can run in an hour, Haz.” Shaking her head, she smiled and blew kisses towards them and turned to face forward and headed off. 


[Y/N] had needed a lot more than an hour to get her mind off of her sexual thoughts about Tom. She had ran for thirty minutes before she slowed to a walk to give her burning legs a rest and in that time, she had made up five million fantasies. All of them ranging from innocent fluffy to extremely fifty shades. After walking for another thirty, she decided to run back to the house. Figuring that Harrison had probably either gone home or knowing that Tom would be spending time with her and went inside to hang out with Sam and Harry. 

Slowing down her pace when she spotted Tom sitting on her porch in the comfy bench her mother had insisted on spending four hundred dollars on. She smiled as she hopped up the steps, “Hey you.” 

Looking up from his phone, Tom smiled back. “Hey yourself. I thought you said you were going to run for an hour? How many miles did you clear?”

Shrugging, [Y/N] unzipped her jacket all the way, fanning herself with her hand. She hated to feel so hot that the only thing she wanted was to peel off her own skin. “I don’t know maybe five or six? I wasn’t tracking it but I reached the fountain and came back.” 

Tom whistled, “Look at you speedy.” He chuckled and got up from the bench to hug her. 

“No, I’m gross.” She whined. 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he shook his head. “No, never. Impossible.” 

Trying to ignore the skin to skin contact, she pushed him away and rolled her eyes. Reaching into her hidden pocket for the spare key to her house, she unlocked the front door and walked in. “Did Haz go home or is he with the twins?” 

“The twins,” he responded, following her in. 

“So, he’ll be over for dinner too? I was supposed to tell my mom for sure.” 

Tom shrugged, “I dunno. I’ll ask him,” texting Harrison, he slid his phone back into his shorts pockets. 

Chugging some water to cool down, she tossed him a gatorade. “You going to eat dinner with my parents with just that on?” [Y/N] teased. 

Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms, the well-defined muscles flexing and tightening made [Y/N] lick her lips. “Are you going to wear that to dinner with your parents?” He squinted his eyes, pushing off the counter, he walked towards her in just four steps. His thumb rubbed against the spot on her neck where she had covered with concealer. “Bloody Hell, your father is going to kill me.” He muttered. 

“What?” 

Tapping your neck, he chuckled. “I’ve given you a hickey. I guess the sweat from your run rubbed the makeup off.” 

Chewing on her lip, she shrugged. “I’ll cover it back up when I get dressed. No big deal, they will never know.” 

“Good because that is not a conversation I want to have with your father.” He shuddered at the thought of being confronted by one of the seriously intimidating men he had ever come to meet. Tom reminisced to the time where he had first met her father, he was ready to piss himself. 

[Y/N] shook her head and laughed, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. She could have keeled over and died from laughing so hard at her father and Tom’s first encounter. She had to reassure Tom that her father really did like him after the first few times and he had even told her that he preferred Tom over her past boyfriends. 

“Hey Tom?”

“Yes, love?”

She fidgeted with the bottom of her jacket, running the zipper up and down causing Tom to look at her with a confused look. “How long have we been dating now?”

Tom tilted his head to the side and did the math in his head. “A little over two years, why?”

“Do you not find me sexually attractive?” 

Tom choked on his spit, completely blind sided by her question. “I’m sorry, what?!”

Avoiding his baffled stare, she sighed. “Am I not sexually appealing? Like, is there a reason why we haven’t had sex?” 

Tom seriously couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. He moved in her line of sight, speaking softly, “Hey, look at me.” Waiting until she met him, he smiled softly. “Are you seriously asking me that? If I didn’t find you to be sexy, I wouldn’t have left that hickey on your neck. Of course I find you to be sexy. I find you to be sexy all the time, [Y/N].” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Tom confirmed, shaking his head at how crazy her question was. He chuckled a little before pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Have I thought about sex with you? Yes. But I, it’s not, I don’t. Sex isn’t just something we do because it feels good, [Y/N]. I want it to be special, meaningful. We’d be sharing ourselves in a more personal way and I might be ready to do that but you might not be.” Cupping her face, he smiled again. “I would never want to pressure you into something because I don’t have to have sex with you to know that I want to be with you. Is it difficult, yes, especially when you wear things like what you have on now.” His eyes trailed down her and then back, “But, I love you for you not for sex or anything else. It would just be an added bonus.” 

[Y/N] couldn’t help but blush at his words. Again, he was always so respectful. “I love you, Holland.” 

“And I love you, [L/N]” He pulled her into a hug, the kind that she melted into. [Y/N] would swear up and down that Tom had different kind of hugs. And the way he was hugging her now was her all time favorite. It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, almost like she was completely safe and nothing could harm her all while feeling the love radiate from his body. 

Pulling away a little, she took a deep breath. “What if I’m ready now?” 

Tom’s eye sparkled a little as he studied her expression, “Then I’d plan it to be special.” 

“No, like now.” 

Now?” Tom asked in surprise. 

“Yes, like right here, right now.” Wincing and giggling lightly, she shrugged, “Or well in my room, not here in the kitchen, that’d be weird. We eat and cook in here.”

Tom pulled apart from her completely, looking her dead straight in the eyes. “You want to have sex right now? Really? Are you sure, [Y/N].” She could tell he was getting flustered, “What if your parents come home? Or Haz decides to just come over? Don’t you think it’d be more special if I had planned it out to be romantic?”

“I love you, Tom, I really do but when has anything you’ve ever planned romantically gone according to plan?” She raised a brow, waiting for him to answer.

“You have a point….”

She grabbed for his hands, “I think it would be special right now. Don’t think I haven’t notice the looks you’ve been giving me when you think I’m not looking. Isn’t passion what makes it special?” 

“Bloody Hell,” Tom mumbled as he ran a hand over his face. “You’re going to kill me, absolutely kill me.” 

anonymous asked:

Can you do a Haz smut where the reader teased for being innocent including Harrison then she proves it to Haz she's far from innocent? I love your imagines by the way :)

Harrison laughed, his eyes shining as he took a long drink from his beer bottle before he continued: “Nah, you the most innocent person I know,” he teased, the group of friends around you all laughing with agreement.

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anonymous asked:

Can we talk about tired/sleepy/mumbling/cuddly/needy harry because all of those combined into one when pertaining to harry actually is all I want!

Part 2 to that - specifically NEEDY mumbling wanting cuddles or touches Harry is what we need to talk about more

He’s the neediest upon waking up, especially when you’ve drifted too far away from him during the night. He’s all hands searching for you in the covers with a mumbled “Where’d yeh go?”

And his fingers finally find your sides and shake you a bit to wake you up. And he’s positively pawing at you and drawing you back into the natural crook of his body. “Tha’s right, come back here, you.” 

And he snuggles right up against you, burrowing his face in your hair, wrapping his arms around your torso, entwining his legs with yours. Between the mess of limbs he’s made you and the fact that the boy is an absolute furnace, there’s no chance you’ll be getting back to sleep.

And of course he’s lightly snoring in your ear already, content to have his girl back where she belongs. Because nothing gets in the way of Harry’s cuddle needs. 

Cocococoococococo

Coco Ziebell

Coco’s my OC of like 300000 years (5 years) and the canonverse she exists in the the Hazardous/Bionic universe that me and Kel created in 2012! She’s the same age/same birthday as me when I made her so she’s growing u with me kya In other AU’s like the broom AU where she’s a witch or the siren AU where she’s a pirate, she’s generally the same all around but i’ll be writing around the Haz/bioverse.

For anyone curious, Hazardous/Bionic is an old RP group that focused on mutations with elements and jazz!

On the surface, she’s a smiley happy-go-lucky person who doesn’t really care as much as she might express. She will smile, laugh, and be kind when necessary but doesn’t really connect with others even if it may seem like so to the other party. Her surface personality completely contradicts her true feelings towards other’s where she may seem to care but it’s hard (not impossible) for her to actually click with anyone or anything. This is mostly due with her distrustful attitude towards others caused by her time in the system and learning that although she couldn’t trust people, having connections and relations (fake or not) could be beneficial. If she does manage to connect with someone though, they are always her first priority.

Not a lot of things get through to her and most things go in one ear and out the other. She responds poorly to authority and often goes off to do her own things. She hardly listens to directions, instructions, and orders and is mostly a solo act in any case which means she’s either the captain or alone because her personality is aggressive and prefers to be front-line. It may lead her to choosing reckless decisions over the right ones but she doesn’t really have a concern for herself and other’s (loved ones excluded), just the matter at hand in the heat of the moment. She does not back off easily unless there’s a risk she won’t take, such as anything that jeopardizes a loved one.

She’s very confident in her skills and hardly falters. When it comes to doing the job (whatever it may be in whatever AU), she enjoys it very much and usually has a smile on her face regardless of the situation, grim or not. 

She also has a form of a dissociative disorder due to a traumatic event from her past (In any AU) that she doesn’t really recall much of or at all. She is generally okay and in control of herself unless another traumatic event arises bringing her back into those memories that she’s forgotten which is rare but can happen especially in the Haz/Bioverse.

and yes she is in a relationshipw w fay 

I’ll have more about her once i finish my OCS page on my tumblr hurr im lazy

lavernae  asked:

okay what are all of your 'catherine goode being a sarcastic piece of shit' headcanons?

Alright so I’m not as much of an expert on Catherine Goode but I’ll put my Gallagher Girl Headcanon-ing skills to use:

  • Sarcasm is her primary mode of communication. She’s like a super-salty Valley Girl, complete with Starbucks cup and baggy sweaters
  • ROLLING EYES. She rolls her eyes so much that Townsend wonders why she still has them. Fun fact: Zach is a lot more like his dad in general, and like Joe in his actions, but he rolls his eyes just like his mom. 
  • Memes. Memes for days. Someone in the Circle showed her That Side of the Internet and everyone regrets it. 
    • “I can haz explosives?” “JESUS CATHERINE WHY”
    • “sounds fake but okay”
    • “tag yourself I’m bagel” “mom what are you even talking about”
    • “friendly reminder that Ioseph Cavan was murdered unjustly by Gilly Gallagher and all stories have two sides  (◠‿◠✿) “
  • She lies with sarcasm all the time. Like you know that scene in Suicide Squad where [SPOILERS] Amanda Waller shot all her subordinates because they knew too much? Catherine is like “I would never do that, c’mon, it’s me, I never kill for no good reason.” *BANG*
  • She’s the mirror image of Rachel. Everything about Rachel Morgan-Solomon is genuine and honest–she never lies without reason and if something has earned her affections or trust, she gives it, though that’s quite rare. But Catherine just a lie packed into an enigma stuffed into a clusterfuck-doublecross wrapped in a bitch tortilla and anyone who’s met both of them has noticed it. “Wow, you and her are a lot–” “don’t you dare say it”
  • And she’s basically Dark Side Abby. Catherine mocks Abby all the time whenever they’re in the same room, to the point where she has to leave interrogations because “But Abby would never do that to poor Edward, would he? She’s just too perfect and too pretty-little-CIA-agent for that, of course.” 
  • Raised eyebrow on the regular. Like, CONSTANTLY. It’s her default expression if she’s not smirking because she knows it looks awesome on her face 
    • she smirks like Zach too, it’s basically canon
  • Innocent battering of eyelashes. Guys like Joe and Townsend and Zach are more or less immune, but if ever there was a “face that launched a thousand ships,” it’s Catherine Goode’s. 
Dressing up w/ Tom

I know Halloween is long gone and I honestly wish I would’ve thought of this then but here we go!


  • “We should be Bonnie and Clyde!” You suggest
  • “No we need something that will include Haz, Sam, Harry , Y/F/N”
  • You groan, “The power rangers.”
  • His eyes lit up, “Awesome!”
  • “I didn’t really mean it-” You got cut off with Tom’s excessive planing
  • “As long as I get to be the Pink Ranger, Y/F/N is gonna have to be yellow.” 
  • “Of course. I’m gonna be the green one.” He winked. 
  • Tom showing off in his costume and doing hella flips. 
  • “Show off.” Haz says. 
  • “I don’t want to get helmet hair.” Your friend whines.
  • “Oh lets take a selfie.” You say pulling her in. 
  • “We need a group pic.” Harry says. 
  • “With the helmets on!” Sam adds
  • “If it’ll fit over your huge head.” Tom teases. 

You and Tom:

  • “You guys are fucking gross!” Harry says covering his eyes.
  • “Can you two stop!” Haz says rolling his eyes. 
  • Tom ripping off his helmet, “Oh you look sexy with your hair all messed up liked that.” You smiled, taking off your helmet. 
  • “You like?” He winks
  • “I love. I’m actually getting kind of horny.”
  • “Okay can you guys please not be that couple tonight.” Your friend begs. 
  • “We can’t help it.” You shrugged, running your hand up and down Tom’s chest and biting your lip. 
  • “You want to go make brown?” He asks.
  • “What?”
  • “Pink and Green mixed together makes like a weird brown-, You want to have sex?” He asked more straight forward.  
  • “Yeah let’s do this.” 
  • You two running back to the car to have a quickie. 
  • “Okay, let’s go beat some bad guys!” Tom clapped after you two finshed boning in the car. 
Give me a reason: not to cry

Hiii! Finally, I’ve finished this. And I’m really sorry, because I think I remember who gave me this idea but I’m not 100% true so I’m not gonna say anything. But you know who you are so consider this your tag!

Give me a reason: not to leave

Give me a reason: not to hang up

X

“Yeah, just GO!”

“I WILL.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

+

Niall can still hear the echo the slamming door made throughout the house hours ago. Can still hear his own voice, rough and thick, screaming for Harry to leave. His throat feels just as raw now as it did seconds after the fight had come to a stand-still; after neither of them had anything left to say because everything else had already been said.

+

“‘s what you’re good at anyway, innit? Takin’ off.”

“Oh - we’re back to that are we, Niall?”

“We never left that, Harry - we just stopped talking about it.”

"Well god forbid I want to see my friends every once in a while.”

“Every once in a while?”

“Considering we’ve been on tour every year for the past four years for eight to ten months out of the year, yeah - every once in a while.”

+

He can’t remember the last day they didn’t fight. Can’t remember the last night either of them went to bed without being angry or upset - or both. Nor can he remember the last time Harry was still in bed with him when he woke up or the last time they were able to have a simple conversation without it turning into a fight. He can’t remember the last time he and Harry actually acted like they liked each other.

He thinks it shouldn’t be this hard. Thinks it shouldn’t hurt so fucking much - like his heart is breaking apart in his chest.

+

“It’s a little more than once in a while, Harry. It’s like the second the tour ends you’re flying out to LA-”

“It’s not like I’m there the whole time, Niall!”

“You’re there more than you are here - that’s my point! When we have time off you spend more time in fucking LA than you do here, with your family. With me.”

+

The thing is, they haven’t fought in ages - nor do they fight very often. Like, at all. And even when they do fight it never lasts very long because it’s like…neither of them really knows how to fight. Which makes fighting, now, even harder, he thinks.

+

"You act like I’m over there partying all the time and having the time of my life without you but, like, 80 per cent of the time I’m working-“

"I know-”

“I’m writing and I’m recording demos and I’m working out melodies-”

“I know that, Harry!”

"Then what the fuck is the problem?!”

“I fucking miss you, that’s the problem!”

+

Even from the bedroom upstairs, curled under the blankets and hugging his pillow, he can hear the front door open and close - softer and quieter than the last time. His breath catches in his throat and his stomach flips nervously. He looks at his phone, at the message from someone else he has yet to open because he doesn’t know what to say.

It’s well past midnight now and, to be honest, he hadn’t been expecting Harry home until morning - at the earliest.

He wipes the heels of his hands across his eyes and dries his cheeks with the duvet. It feels like the hundredth time he’s done that in the last week and he hates it; hates crying. Because crying means there’s something wrong. (Some people like to say that crying - letting everything out - makes you feel better but Niall would beg to differ. He’s only ever just felt worse.)

+

"I miss you too, Niall.”

“Evidently not enough.”

“Are you - I don’t - what more do you want me to say?! I’m trying here and you just keep - you’re all over the fucking place! How about you just let me know when you’ve figured out exactly what you want me to say?”

"Oh - what, are you leaving? You’re just gonna leave?”

“I need some air.”

“Why don’t you just go back to LA while you’re at it?”

“Maybe I fucking will!”

“Good.”

“Good. I’ll send you a post card-”

“Fuck you! Just - go! LEAVE!”

X

The bedroom door opens quietly, like Harry’s trying not to wake him. He’s awake though, of course, because it’s hard enough falling asleep without Harry there and even harder falling sleep after a fight. He can hear Harry walking carefully across the room, closer to the bed - like he’s tip-toeing in order to keep quiet.

Niall rolls over, then, to face him; watches Harry empty his jeans pockets and place his wallet, phone and coins on the bedside table on his own side of the bed. Harry glances at him, stares for a minute before turning to sit on the edge of the mattress, his back now to Niall. The blond sighs inwardly as he pushes himself up and leans his shoulders back against the headboard. “Lou texted me. Is that where you went?”

“Yeah,” Harry mutters tiredly.

“She’s knows, then?”

Harry sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. “She knows we had a fight; she doesn’t know everything.”

Niall nods once to himself. He contemplates texting her back to thank her for looking out - maybe even thank her for being there for Harry. He decides against it, however, because she can wait until morning. Harry can’t.

“Lux asked for you,” Harry says, voice rough - he’s been crying too. He sits back, swings his legs up in front of him and leans his shoulders against the headboard. “She wants to see you - asked why you weren’t there for lunch with us last weekend. I told her you’d see her soon.”

Niall snorts. “Which means I should probably head over tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll come?” he asks tentatively.

Harry blinks, letting his head fall back with a soft thud against the wood. “If you want me to.”

“I always want you to,” Niall whispers.

Harry reaches out for the lamp beside him on the table and turns it on. Niall winces as the light floods into the room, rubs at his eyes as they adjust and then his gaze lands on the brunette, whom leans back against the headboard, head tilted back. He looks at Harry; Harry, whose cheeks are a bit flushed and eyes are rimmed red. He thinks they probably look identical.

“What do you want from me, Niall?” Harry asks, letting his head fall to the side so they’re face to face.

Niall blinks, takes a deep breath. “I want you to give me a reason not to cry.”

“I don’t…” Harry trails off, brow furrowed as he licks his lips. “What am I supposed to do?”

"They say that the person you’re meant to be with - the person who’s worth your tears - will never make you cry,” Niall murmurs, dropping his gaze to stare at his lap. He picks at a loose thread on the duvet.

“You don’t - you don’t believe that, do you?”

Niall shakes his head, rubbing both hands over his tired face. “Couples fight and sometimes they cry and it doesn’t mean you’re meant to be together any less - sometimes I think it means you’re meant to be together more because you can do that and survive,” he whispers. “I’m just…I’m tired of crying, Haz. It’s all I’ve been doing since you got back.”

Harry sighs softly. “I can’t just not go to LA, Niall. It’s-“

“I’m not asking you not to go to LA,” the blond assures him as he turns to face his boyfriend. Harry’s staring at him, eyes wide and curious, searching Niall’s face. And Niall knows that - knows that LA is some place special for Harry, knows that Harry has friends there, has songwriter friends there, likes to write there. “I’m just…I just wish you wouldn’t spend so much time there. I wish you would spend more time here during our time off because I just…I just miss you when you’re gone.”

Harry blinks, continues to stare at him for a moment and then swallows hard before looking away.

“And I know you miss me too, yeah,” Niall continues. “I was an asshole before trying to make it seem like you don’t miss me enough - because I know you do. It’s just…it’s different-“

"How is it different?” Harry demands, sounding a bit offended.

“It just…” the blond trails off, licking at his lips. His stomach churns; he feels sick. “It’s like we spend all this time on the road, in and out of hotels, and we’re with each other every day - except we aren’t really alone. Because the lads are there and around and then there’s the crew and the fans and just…everyone - and apart from having quickies in the room or dressing rooms we don’t really get any alone time.

"And then when it ends I just…I just always think we’ll get all this time together but we don’t because you go to LA and I don’t see you for three or four weeks and then all of a sudden it’s time to rehearse for the new tour and it’s the same shit all over again.”

“Niall-”

“And I know we made our plans,” Niall continues again, because now that he’s started he can’t bring himself to stop. “I know I said I wanted to bring the lads out from back home and grab some pints with the crew and play some golf and I know you wanted to see Jeff and Zach - and that’s fine. That’s not - it’s not about that. It’s that at the end of the day the house is way to quiet because you’re not here and the bed is way too fucking cold because you’re not in it and I just miss you.”

Harry continues to stare at him, one eyebrow raised and his eyes a little bit softer than before. “You’re mad at me because you miss me?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “I’m mad at you because you I was done hanging out with other people a week into the break and you were an insensitive git who wouldn’t come home.” And, suddenly, Niall feels like maybe all this time spent crying was a bit of an overreaction - and maybe a huge waste of time. Maybe all he had to do was say that instead of attacking Harry about going to LA to begin with.

"And you missed me.”

The blond snorts. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m mad at you.”

“C’mere,” Harry murmurs, reaching one arm out for Niall - who’s already crawling across the bed and into Harry’s open arms. “‘m sorry,“ he whispers, burying his nose in Niall’s hair.

"I know.”

“If I had known it meant that much to you I would’ve changed my flight.”

“I know.”

Harry breathes in deeply before pressing a kiss to the back of Niall’s head. “How ‘bout next time I go to LA you just…come with me?”

Niall jerks, pushed himself away from Harry’s chest and turns to look at him. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because we - if I go with you there will be suspicions and-”

“People already have their suspicions, Niall,” Harry points out.

“But this will be different,” Niall insists. “We agreed we weren’t ready and if I-”

“Nobody has to know why you’re there,” the brunette says, taking each of Niall’s hands into both of his own. “Everyone knows I write there so if I fly out first and then you fly out a couple days later they’ll just think we’re writing together. Louis and Liam write together all the time.”

A smile tugs at Niall’s lips. “And where will I stay? A hotel?”

Harry scoffs. “You’re not staying at a hotel. Band mates can crash with band mates, can they not?”

Niall shrugs playfully. “I suppose, yeah.”

"Then you can stay in the guest room-”

“Fuck you,” the blond laughs, slapping at Harry’s chest. “‘m not staying in a bloody guest room.“

Harry grins back, pulling Niall against him. “So you’ll come?”

Niall cocks his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows as though in deep thought. “Hmm, I dunno. I mean, I guess if I have to-“

"Fuck off,” Harry smirks.

Niall laughs, tossing his head back as Harry wrestles him onto his back. He tries to fight back, to knock Harry off but even though he’s gangly and clumsy, the brunette’s bigger and stronger. Niall finds himself gazing up at Harry a moment later when Harry’s got him pinned to the bed.

“You know that thing you said - about giving you a reason not to cry?” Harry asks softly, resting his forehead against Niall’s.

Niall shakes his head gently. “I’m fine-“

“I know, I just…I like it a lot better when you’re laughing so just…don’t ever let me make you cry,” Harry whispers.

“Deal,” Niall whispers back, carding his fingers through Harry’s long curls.

abiitneminesalutato  asked:

Please explain "lo" for me. It's one of the major small things I still mess up on. For instance, I once said "el mismo" instead of "lo" when ordering the same drink as my friend and they laughed cuz I said "el" Lo is just really confusing and I don't know when to use it. I understand it can mean it, and that I can use it with commands, but sometimes lo is used in phrases or other parts of a sentence and idk why.

The lo is technically gender neutral in Spanish (if we’re talking about nouns/adjectives)

They don’t talk about it too much but there’s el masculine, la feminine, and lo neuter

You don’t usually see lo used with nouns; it’s what you use to make an adjective a noun. Technically this is called “substantive adjective”… which makes no sense unless you know el sustantivo is “noun”


You would normally see lo translated as “what’s”:

importante = important
lo importante = what’s important / the important thing
Lo importante es que tenemos salud. = What’s important is we have our health.

genial = great/awesome
lo genial = what’s great / the great thing
Maneras en la que tu perro piensa lo genial que eres = Ways in which your dog thinks about how awesome you are [this is an actual clickbait article I saw]

nuevo/a = new
lo nuevo = what’s new / the new thing
No todo lo nuevo es mejor. = Not everything that’s new is better. / “Newer doesn’t mean better”.

Here we move onto lo que which is commonly a “what” that connects sentences. By that I mean a lo que connects two conjugated verbs in a compound sentence.

More literally it’s “that which” or “the thing that”…

Eso no es lo que quiero. = That’s not what I want.

No es lo que quise decir. = That’s not what I meant (to say).

No todo lo que brilla es de oro. = Not everything that glitters is gold.

Lo que no entiendo es… = What I don’t understand is…

Y lo que más me enfada es que… = And what really makes me angry is…

Haz lo que quieras. = Do whatever you want. [this is subjunctive]
Haz lo que yo diga, no lo que yo haga. = Do as I say, not as I do. [subjunctive]
Pueden decir lo que quieran decir. = They can say whatever they want (to say). [again subjunctive]
Sea lo que sea… = Be that as it may… [subjunctive; “if it is indeed what it is” is more literal]

Lo que la vida me robó. = What Life Took From Me. [Name of a telenovela]

Lo que el viento se llevó. = Gone With the Wind. [book and movie title; literally it’s “what was taken away with/by the wind”]

In all cases with lo / lo que you’re using something in place of the actual noun. That’s what neuter/neutral gender means; the absence of gender.

While there is masculine or feminine, when it’s ambiguous or a general concept, you go for neuter gender:

La cosa importante… = The important thing…

El detalle importante… = The important detail…

Lo importante… = What’s important…

Using lo here says that you’re not using the noun at all, it’s a stand-in. And because you’re not using the noun, you can’t tell what gender it is, so it’s the absence of gender.

With mismo/a there is something I just want to make a bit clearer:

el mismo (algo) = the same (something)
Quiero el mismo coche. = I want the same car.
Tengo el mismo problema. = I have the same problem.
No es el mismo caso. = It’s not the same case.
Tienen el mismo apellido. = They have the same last name.


la misma (algo) = the same (something; feminine)
Hemos visto la misma película. = We’ve seen the same movie.
Es la misma ropa de siempre. = It’s the same old clothes. [the same clothes as always]
Quiero la misma camisa. = I want the same shirt.
No debes usar la misma contraseña. = You shouldn’t use the same password.

With lo mismo it’s “the same (one)”… saying quiero lo mismo is “I want the same (thing)”, or quiero tomar lo mismo “I’d like the same (thing) to drink”

You wouldn’t normally be using el mismo without a noun.

What you do sometimes see is something that’s a particular function of mismo/a which is “himself/herself/itself”:

Y él mismo dijo que… = He himself said that…

Está hablando de ella misma. = She’s referring to herself.

Habla consigo mismo. = He’s talking to himself. [lit. “he speaks with himself”]
Habla consigo misma. = She’s talking to herself.
Hablas contigo mismo/a. = You’re talking to yourself.
Hablo conmigo mismo/a. = I’m talking to myself.

Puedo hacerlo yo mismo/a. = I can do it myself.



The other time you would see a lo is when you’re dealing with direct objects.

Here, lo and los take the place of a 3rd person masculine noun; the lo is singular, but the los is plural.

Direct objects take the place of a noun in a sentence to mean “it”, and can be masculine or feminine, or can even be people:

escribir el mensaje = to write the message
Lo escribo. = I’m writing it.
Los escribo. = I’m writing them.

escribir la carta = to write the letter
La escribo. = I’m writing it.
Las escribo. = I’m writing them.

But direct objects aren’t exactly the same as what you were asking about.

Till the End of Time: 12 Days of Christmas, Day 1: Cold Nights

Second Person - Words 1.5k

Not 100% Chritmasy but still a bit of fluff please send in some more requests. I can’t reply to anons so I’ve turned it off, if you don’t want to publish it just say so.

.-.-.-.

The power had gone out only ten minutes ago and from what you could see from your window block after block also had no power.

It had only started to snow early this morning but the winds were strong and had now apparently affected the power lines. Your apartment was cold now that your primary source of heating had been taken out and you had planned to cuddle up on your couch with a bundle of blankets and slip a dvd into your thankfully fully charged laptop.

Just as you were lighting the last couple of candles on your kitchen counter your phone starts ringing in your back pocket. Placing the lighter down you slide the phone out of your back pocket and smile at the name that pops up.

You had thought about calling Harry but you had only talked to him an hour ago and since he was a bit jetlagged from just getting back from American award shows and interviews you didn’t want to disturb his sleep. Something he desperately needed but he was going on break soon which meant that you had more time with him.

“Hey,” his voice was deep telling you that he was half asleep.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You chuckle as your bare feet carry you across the room towards your pile of blankets.

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Double Dates: Tom Holland x WOC Actress

This is a sequel to Playtime, Reader and Tom go on a double date with Harrison and his new friend. 


“Drunk Karaoke!” You yelled happily. “We are going out to dinner first.”

“Dinner!” You yelled. He chuckled and shook his head. 

Tom followed behind you with his hand on your lower back. “So are they going to meet us?” You asked wrapping your arm around his. “Yeah, Haz is giving her a run down on you.” He smirked. “Why?”

“Because you can be very unpredictable and you have no filter, especially when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?” You tried remembering what made them come to that conclusion. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The drive to the restaurant was quick and you two walked in. “Reservations for Holland.” Tom said. “Right this way.”

Tom pulled out the chair for you and sat down. You started dancing to the music in your head, “You didn’t drink before we left right?”

“Nope, but I am going to in a bit.” You smiled looking through the alcoholic beverages menu. “They’re on the way.”

You ordered a drink while Tom order his usually beer. “We’ll just order an appetizer.” You nodded at the waiter. 

After your fourth drink, Haz and his friend came walking to the table. You gasped, “You didn’t tell me she had melanin.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “You’re drunk.” He took the glass out of your hand and stood up to greet them. “Hi, I’m Y?N!” You said all bubbly. “She’s a bit drunk.” Tom apologized. “Hi, I’m Morgan.” She smiled. “I’m such a huge fan of you both.”

“Awe you’re so sweet.” You slurred.You hugged Haz, “She is so cute!”

Haz blushed and Tom grabbed your arm to sit you back down. “Can I get another one?” You pointed to your glass. “No, no more. I’ll tip you extra if you don’t serve her anymore alcohol.” Tom bargained with the waiter. 

You pouted and whispered across the table to Morgan, “You should just order me some.”

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015 Growing Pains

Notes: WE HAVE THE TWO MIDDLE BOYS’ NAMES! So now we have (in birth order) Isabella, Zack, Tommy, and George. The middle two do have longer, ‘proper’ names but they will never be called those unless they behave really badly - ie. they will definitely behave badly and it will come! I’ve also noticed in tons of other one shots/fics that Harry and the missus are always addressed by the children’s friends/boyfriends/girlfriends as Mr Styles/Mrs Styles when they first meet - that rarely happens in the UK so I’m trying to make this as realistic as I can. Enjoy x


“Dad…” Your sixteen year old daughter, Isabella, started as she walked in to the kitchen after finishing her homework upstairs.

“Daughter…” Harry mocked back as he was pouring two glasses of wine; one for him and one for you. It was Wednesday night in the Styles household; dinner was eaten, dishes were washed, and full bellies were now lying on the sofas in the living room watching a film they’d all seen more than enough times.

“Can I go out on Friday night? At like, seven?”

“Where to?”

“Just to the cinema, the one on Finchley Road.”

“With who?”

“A few friends…”

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2

Mary Morstan

by BSB Lyndsay Faye

Let’s chat about Mary Morstan for a sec.  No, not that one, the one you’re thinking of we’ll get to in a wee bit.  I’m talking first about the one who kicked so much canonical ass that she deserved her own spinoff series.  (Does this exist?  Tell me, please, if it happens to exist.)

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One of the most canny tricks they teach actors is also a neat tip for writing fiction of all types: listening to what other characters have to say about your character can be a much better guideline and way more insightful than the things your character says about him- or her-self.  Take Sherlock Holmes, for example.  Sherlock Holmes talks mad phat game about prizing reason above all things.  “I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment;” “I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix;“ I haz no feels and you can’t make me haz teh feels. 

But then Watson has to go and write down all those moments when Holmes was snortchuckling over hiding a treaty in a curry dish, or scritching a puppy, or crying like a rom-com addict over Watson’s bullet wound, and we therefore (secondhand, but secondhand is better than first!) know that he is always and forever full of horse puckey.

What is said about Mary Watson, nee Morstan, in the Sherlock Holmes canon?  Enough to convince me that she must have been an absolutely extraordinary woman.  Let’s address the elephant in the room and get ridiculous shipping wars out of the way immediately: no one is saying that John Watson didn’t love the “best and wisest man” he’d ever known, or that Holmes wouldn’t have gone full Braveheart Mel Gibson if you threatened his army doctor.  Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were either brothers-in-arms, or brothers-in-crossed-swords-of-a-certain-type, or something on the spectrum between these paradigms.

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This isn’t about that.  This is about Mary being awesome.  John “Three Continents” Watson has been around the block, we learn in The Sign of Four.  Then along comes Mary with some pearls and a mystery, and before you can ejaculate something, John Watson is head over heels.  In fact, remember when he developed an epic mancrush for Sherlock Holmes in A Study in Scarlet, when he said that the casual reader would doubtless set him down a hopeless busybody over his new consulting detective obsession?  Here is what he has to say about Mary Morstan (and John Watson has, I think most will agree, very sound taste regarding the company he keeps)…she entered the room:

…with a firm step and an outward composure of manner. She was a blonde young lady, small, dainty, well gloved, and dressed in the most perfect taste. There was, however, a plainness and simplicity about her costume which bore with it a suggestion of limited means. The dress was a sombre grayish beige, untrimmed and unbraided, and she wore a small turban of the same dull hue, relieved only by a suspicion of white feather in the side. Her face had neither regularity of feature nor beauty of complexion, but her expression was sweet and amiable, and her large blue eyes were singularly spiritual and sympathetic. In an experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents, I have never looked upon a face which gave a clearer promise of a refined and sensitive nature.

Let’s parse this for a second, because of all the people in the canon, John Watson can be counted on to rate inner beauty above outer prickliness, right?  He says that she’s isn’t beautiful.  (She also isn’t “backlit as if caught by surprise, with one hand faintly grasping the doorjamb, the hint of something ripe and J&=RI&EDYFh%@e5r about her lips as she formed a question upon them, appealing to my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes and wearing a heartbreaking expression of sweet appeal on her angelic and pale yet still cherry-red mouth.”)

John Watson is a dude, and John Watson is a good dude, but he is a dude, and he refuses to objectify her.

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Now, I know you’re going to say that she comes to them for help, so she’s still a damsel in distress, and yes she’s a damsel, and yes she’s in distress, but then Watson gets up to leave, because he knows this is probably going to be awkward, and she goes, halt:

To my surprise, the young lady held up her gloved hand to detain me.

“If your friend,” she said, “would be good enough to stop, he might be of inestimable service to me.“

I relapsed into my chair.

Oh yeah, That One Time When Dr. John H. Watson Who Survived Afghanistan And Even Living With Sherlock Holmes Got “Detained” By This Kinda Terse Lady He Thinks Isn’t Beautiful.  This is not about a fling.  This is not about a conquest.  It isn’t even about chivalry, not the way he states the case.  We only know the canon through Watson’s eyes (let’s forget LION and BLAN for the moment, shall we?), and he sees in her something formidable and steely, but also something gentle and warm, and he goes on to explicate after they are married that people in trouble flock to Mary “like birds to a lighthouse,” one can only assume thanks to both her strength and her kindness.

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What does Sherlock Holmes, Reasoning Toaster Oven, think of Mary with his superior man-brain and his mighty deductive powers?

“You are certainly a model client.  You have the correct intuition.”

“I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing.  She had a decided genius that way…”

I want everyone in the virtual room to perform a simple thought exercise and count the number of times Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Vacuum Cleaner, who adores John Watson, ever said Watson had “a decided genius” about anything at all.  Ever.  And when you come up with “making me smarter” and “picking the right stories to tell” as the closest compliments, you will be correct, and Mary will emerge triumphant, and we can all ask her over for whiskey and pie because I don’t particularly care for cake (I’m weird like that).

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Yes, definitely, let’s talk about the Other Mary.  Well, to be fair, we should make that plural of course…Kelly Reilly does a tremendous turn as Mary Watson, not only tolerating Holmes when necessary (pretty early on) and throwing a drink in his face when necessary (come on, he deserved that one) and being thrown out of a train and still doing super seekrit tasks when necessary (whatever we all thought of Fry’s epic casting, we really never saw THAT coming).  But she is definitely portrayed as someone Holmes considers an impediment, an objection, a wrench in the proverbial works and not the right kind of wrench, the kind that can help with bolts, which is inconsistent with the Doyle canon in this way:

“Oh, Anstruther would do your work for you. You have been looking a little pale lately. I think that the change would do you good, and you are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock Holmes’s cases…”

See, that there’s Mary, in “The Boscombe Valley Mystery,” telling Watson that he looks “a little pale lately,” when he thinks about Sherlock Holmes too hard, and needs a strong dose of adventures and service revolvers and mayhem and master blackmailers and devil hounds and the like.  Not preventing anything—worthy of being asked along, according to Holmes himself.  But content to watch Watson take care of these criminal matters.

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What a shame that she was relegated to the backseat so.

Now we can talk about That Other Mary for a bit.  Because BBC Sherlock is badass, almost universally loved telly, and I love them so much, and Mary is difficult, and here is my opinion as to why:

The writers of BBC Sherlock, as stated by me before, would like to be thought of as metal.  They would like to be so metal that they tour Scandinavia forever, and so stone cold that Alex Lifeson of Rush couldn’t say shit to them with a metronome in his damn hand, and so utterly possessing of epic hair that A Flock of Seagulls weep when they behold Moffat and Gatiss.  And they are pretty much THAT awesome.  This leads them to have to best themselves.  This leads them to do things like:

–almost kill Sherlock and John in S1

–actually “kill” Sherlock in S2

–really actually kill kill Sherlock in S3, because what could be more metal than turning it up to 11?

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This ultimately has very little to do with the canonical Mary, and maybe even not much to do with the BBC Mary, because we won’t know her well until she proves her (new) self in S4.  They are going to write new factors into this situation, and come what may, Amanda Abbington is brilliant, absolutely spot on, and the writers have given her a thorny role she handled very well indeed in the absence of S4 (or even advance knowledge as to what S3 entailed).

In the meanwhile, one could definitely love oneself some canonical Mary.  A woman Sherlock Holmes declared “a decided genius” must be pretty spectacular.  And yes, I am allowing Holmes to define her, but remember…secondhand evidence is better than firsthand.  And Watson agrees with Holmes.  And if your two favorite characters both enthusiastically approve of a woman who could have been anything but intelligent and forthright and brave, and turned out to be all three…well, then I applaud her with all my heart.

Beach With The Boys (Harry Styles Imagine)

- YOUR POV - 

“We’re here!” Niall yelled loudly. I looked outside and surely enough, we were right by the beach.

One by one, we stepped out of the car and towards the packed sandy area. Thousands of people lay and play on the tiny golden grains, all equally having fun. The sun burned my eyes and i’m sure i’ll be getting more tanned by the end of the day.

The boys and I made our way to a less crowded place and planted our belongings down by the chairs. “Dibs on this one!” I shouted, running to the chair closest to the water.

“Dibs over here!” Harry plopped onto the seat beside me.

“It’s hot, let’s get into the water.” I whined, before taking out my sun lotion. “Haz, can you please help?”

He nodded and I gave him the bottle. I pulled my dress upwards and off, waiting for him to apply the cold gel. When he didn’t after a few long seconds, I turned to look at him.

“Harry, what are you waiting for?” 

He blinked three times, “… What? Oh–uh, yeah.” Then he squeezed the bottle and started to smear it over my exposed back.

His large soft hands massaged me, that I almost fell asleep from how good it felt. They moved down to my lower back, making sure to cover and protect most of my skin.

“Thanks, Haz.” I smiled at him and took the bottle back before rubbing some sun lotion on my legs, the top of my breasts, my stomach and on my face. 

“So, who’s up for a swim?” I asked the guys, looking up at them but they stared at me dumbfounded. “What? Is there something on my face?” Quickly, I began to feel my face for anything unusual.

Harry chuckled and removed my hands, “No.”

Phew, now let’s go!” I perked up, grabbing my towel and dragging Harry by the hand.

I decided to tan for a bit, so after setting my towel down on the sand, I lay on my front side. The hot sun kept my back warm from the wind that blew past me from time to time, I felt so relaxed with my earphones plugged in.

Suddenly, one of my earphones were yanked out, a deep unfamiliar voice breathing at my ear. “Hey baby.” His ice cold fingers gliding down my backside, almost groping my butt.

Frowning, I sat up to meet a fairly handsome man. He had chestnut brown hair and dazzling blue eyes, sure he was good looking but average compared to Harry. “I have a boyfriend…”

“Ain’t gonna stop me,” I didn’t understand what he meant until his face came flying towards me. His plump lips were just about to hit mine but he was instantly pulled back by the arm. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” Harry was furious, a deadly glare marking his angelic features.

“Talking to this beautiful young lady–” The stranger wore a smug grin.

“Who happens to be my girlfriend!” Harry’s grip tightened, his knuckles turning white as he held the boy strongly. 

The boy’s face converted into fear, he knew he was no match for Harry. “S-sorry.” 

“Yeah, you better be.” Harry released him and he dashed out of sight. 

I raised my brows at my boyfriend.

“You’re mine.” He confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest that caused his upper arms to flex. 

I glanced at his half-naked state, his hair was dripping wet, sticking to his forehead. His abs seemed to shine with the water drops that trickled down them, and don’t even get me started on his v-line. The swim shorts hung low on his waist–

“Checking me out, huh?” He intercepted my thoughts and I hung my head low, my cheeks flushing velvet red. “It’s okay, it’s not like I haven’t checked you out before.”

I snapped my head up at him, my eyes widening in surprise. He checks me out.

“Now come into the water with me,” He brought his hand forward, indicating for me to take it. 

Clasping his baby-soft hands, he pulled me up and took me by surprise when he carried me bridal-style. “Harry put me down!” I screeched, clinging onto his neck like my life depended on it. 

“Nope,” He said and before I knew it, I flew into the freezing cold water.

As I floated back to the top, I gasped and my hands shot up to cover my breasts. My bikini untied! Oh god, did anyone see?!

“Harry!” I whisper-shouted, a mad yet nervous look on my face.

He was now by my side, the sea water reaching our necks. “What?”

“Harry, I lost my fucking bikini top!” I slapped his arm with my free hand, using my single arm to cover my boobs.

His face turned red like he was trying to hold in laughter. My suspicion was correct when after a few seconds, he burst into chuckles, splashing his arms everywhere in the water.

I grit my teeth, annoyed now. “Harry! It’s not funny! Find it for me!”

“Okay… Okay… It’s… Just… Really… Funny.” He said in between his chortles, “You… Lost… Your bikini top!” And then he began cackling again.

I groaned and slapped him again on the shoulder, “Harry!”

He bit his lip, a smile trying to break free. “On it.” He dived underwater, retrieving my bikini.

I blew out a puff of air, thankful. “Thanks Haz,” I reached to snatch it.

“Nuh uh, give me a kiss first.” He used his forefinger and gestured towards his lips.

“No! Harry, give it back!”

“I will,” He paused, “But you have to kiss me first.”

I moaned, “Harry…”

“Yes?”

“Fine.” I huffed, seeing that my plan wasn’t going to work anytime soon. 

I swam towards him slowly, and with one arm, I wrapped it around his neck. We both shut our eyes and leaned in together, his hands making their way by themselves around my waist. I tugged on his hair when our lips met, butterflies erupting in my stomach. 

This never gets old, I thought.

The kiss was gentle, but captivating. He tasted like peppermint and salty ocean water. It was simply mesmerising. Ragged breathing and dancing tongues brought a fiery heat to the cold ocean air. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared and it was just us two on that beach. As our kisses grew more urgent and hungry, desire ignited us and we became lost in the sea of lust.

Finally we pulled apart, and a gentle breeze fluttered by our heated faces. Our breathing came out in desperate gasps, both of us only an inch apart. 

A devilish grin grew onto my face as I brought my hand above the water. “I got it!” I showed him the material held in my hands, my bikini.

The Bear

Earlier in the week:

“Babe, why can’t you come with me..” Harry whined.

“Harry, you know why I can’t. I have things to do here.” Harry was leaving for tour tomorrow and he should be excited, but all he was doing was complaining and clinging to your side. You understood why, you would miss him more than anything and being away from him for that long would kill you too, but he was also going to travel the world and see exciting things. Harry moaned and buried his face in your over sized teddy bear, causing you to smile. “I have an idea Haz.”

He looked up at you, his green eyes full of curiosity. “What?” he asked.

“I’ll keep your blanket, you know the fuzzy one that smells like you? And you can take my bear on tour. That way we always have a piece of one another with us.”

Harry looked at the bear and then at you, slowly a smile spread onto his face and he pulled you into his arms placing a sweet kiss on your ear. “Deal.”

Present Day:

“Harry, come on mate, we’ve got to get going before the paps get here.” Liam said helping him gather his things. 

“I can’t get on the plane yet. (y/n) still hasn’t called and if I get on the plane now I’ll miss her call.” Harry said gripping the bear he was holding tighter. 

“You probably don’t have good service here anyways. You can call her when we land.”

“No she will be asleep. I have to wait.” Harry sat down and placed the bear on his laps with his cheek resting on it. Harry would never admit it to the guys, but the bear was the only thing keeping him from going home. He missed you more than he could imagine and the time away had been hard for him.

“Here let me take your picture with the bear and you can text her this and say you will call later.” Liam suggested.

Harry sighed and nodded, he knew they had to go or the airport would be swarmed with fans and paps. Liam took his phone and snapped a few pictures before helping Harry stand up and walking to the plane. Harry sent the text and followed Liam, heading to their next concert.

Miss you babe. have to get on the plane rn but will call later. love you -H

After a 6 hour flight, Harry and the guys climbed off the plane and were ushered into the car. Harry checked his phone and found a few texts from you, causing the smallest smile to show on his cheeks. He carried the bear in his arms and no matter what, he would never let it go. They reached the arena with  few hours to kill and Harry decided to take a nap since he had barely slept on the plane. Curling up on the couch, he cuddled the bear to his chest and drifted off. A bit later Harry awoke to a text from you so he quickly opened it and was surprised to see a picture of him. 

“I missed you too Haz.” you said laughing from behind him. He spun around and dropped the bear, running to you and pulling you into a tight hug. Your face was buried in his chest and his nose was buried in your shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked confused. 

“The guys said you might be feeling a little home sick and I missed you so they arranged a surprise.” you answered leaning forward to kiss him. He pulled you tightly into him and kissed your face everywhere, making you laugh. He then pulled you onto the couch and held you tightly in his arms. 

“Much better than the bear.” He said placing a kiss on your cheek and falling back to sleep, happier than he had been since he left in the first place.


eh i don’t know about this one, but can’t beat those pics of Harry. Had this request for a while and decided to go with it. I also have another imagine with these pics as well so check it out! Love you guys xoxo

Harry Styles Imagine

“Don’t say that…” You mumbled looking at him from across the living room. “Don’t you dare…”

“Why? It’s true,” he sniffled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down towards the floor. “No one would really care if I just ended it.”

You were shocked.

“How could you say such a thing with your best fucking friend standing in front of you? No one would care Harry? No one would fucking care?” A sarcastic laugh left your mouth as you shook your head. “I know you’re hurting Harry, I know everything seems like it’s crashing down around you. But I’m not that person who just gets up and leaves like the rest.”

Stopping for a minute you took a moment to look at him. The boy who’s had his heart broken way too many times and was finally hitting his breaking point.

“Harry I have no idea what I would do without you… You’re the only boy I ever loved… From grade 2 until now, we’ve been best friends and I’ve loved you more than you can imagine this entire time. All those girls who think they can come into your life and leave, don’t know what they’re missing… But I do. I don’t see the famous Harry Styles from One Direction, I see my Haz, sitting here with feelings that have been hurt way too many times. But Harry, suicide can not be an option. Ever, and I refuse to let it be the way your story ends.”

As you finished, you kept your eyes glued on your best friend the whole time. His eyes remained stuck on his hands that were crossed firmly in his lap.

You went over to sit next to him, keeping your distance because you didn’t know what he was feeling at the moment. A sigh of defeat left his mouth as his body slouched forwards even more, and his eyes began to water.

“Harry…” You mumbled, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his back in comfort. “Love please don’t cry…”

“I can’t help it,” he whimpered out, his voice deep and husky. “I can’t help but cry because all of what you said is true. All the girls I bring home, think it’s just a one night stand sex thing, but they don’t realize that I want, and I need something more.”

“Maybe you’re picking from the wrong crowd,” you said softly, trying to lighten the situation a little.

“I know you think that’s funny, but you’re right. Maybe I am going for the ones that would rather just sleep with me, hoping they’ll feel something after. But no. It’s like any one night stand. They get up and leave before I get up.” A deep sigh left Harry’s mouth as you continued to rub his back.

“I wouldn’t leave…” You managed to confess, averting your gaze to your own lap. “I think a man like you deserves to find someone that cherishes every moment, that looks at you like no one else can, and that just loves you for everything that you are as a person. Not just a famous person that wants sex, because that’s not you.”

Harry shook his head, finally matching your gaze. “I shouldn’t be rushing into a relationship, but it gets lonely when the other boys have someone there to support them. And don’t get me wrong, my family supports me and I can’t appreciate that enough because it means so much to me… But seeing that special sparkle in their eyes when someone brings up their girlfriend’s name I mean… It brings them up even more. They’re so happy and I am to I just feel like that something is missing.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant, moving in closer to him. You wanted him to see that you were willing to give him all of that, and more.

“Harry what if… What if you and I…” The words were harder to find than you imagined.

“What if we what?” He asked, looking at you softly slowly putting his arm around your back like he usually did.

Sighing you just decided to blurt it out. “What if you and I went out… Like not just as friends… Like… A real date as a couple…?” You could see Harry contemplating it in his mind, his eyes getting a bit lighter. “I know you inside and out, and you know me like that too. I mean, we’ve been best friends for such a long time and just maybe… Maybe this is what you need..? Not to make me out to be anything special, of course not, but… I wouldn’t necessarily be disappointed if you were completely mine…” You finished, giving him a shy look.

“(Y/N), you’re really serious about this?” He asked, wanting to make sure. You nodded quickly, chewing on the inside of your lip. Harry looked away for a moment to think before the first smile you’ve seen in days spread over his face. “I just, this is so perfect… You’re right, we know everything about each other, we’ve been best friends, I mean we’ve even kissed,” he chuckles making the treehouse memory pop up in your head. “I love you, and I always have in a friendly way but come to think about it, there’s always been something more behind the I love you’s. So yes, I will go out with you, as a couple and not friends,” he chuckled softly pulling you closer into his side and kissing your forehead.

“I promise Haz, you won’t regret this,” you said, muffled by his shirt.

“I know I won’t babe. I have no doubts that this is the best decision I’ve ever made.”