i thought this might be good

You hold a flashlight under your chin and I count the shadows on your face

I reach for you and

music pours from the cracks of

your skin. This is the beginning of 

something; why do I

think of the end? – I am still singing

to you. I am pretending that this is forever

and that you will never cut your hair.

We all lose our strength eventually. But

you hold my flaws like they

are kindling, something

to fuel a night of ghost stories 

and constellations.

Making out - Riverdale Preference

First Riverdale preference! Just included my main guys in here and FP because lord do I love that man! Let me know if you wish for me to start including the girls in these things. Slight nsfw gifs. Requests are open but may be done slowly due to exams :)

Masterlist 


Jughead

Jughead may have been a little more conserved around people but when you were alone, his thoughts and actions were much, much more than that. Nothing pleased him (or turned him on more) that the feeling of you wrapped around him tightly, his hands running across your skin and his mouth on yours, making you feel good in every way.

Archie

Archie might have been a bit of a fuckboy, but he was good to you in everyway. He adored how you felt under him as his lips traveled down your neck and chest. He would certainly be dominant over you but you didn’t mind one bit as you would just pull at his hair - always wanting more. He would love pushing up against you, getting as close as he could so you knew how happy you made him.

Reggie

Making out with Reggie was always sensual and rather loving. Reggie may seem like a rather dominant one but he would rather just savor the moment of having you with him and no one else around. His kisses were usually sweet but hot and made you feel everything as his lips travel the course of your body, making you feel a kind of hot only he makes you feel.

FP

Make out sessions with FP was never normally a private thing. He would happily have his way with your lips right outside the Whyte Wyrm, showing all the serpents who you belonged to. The kisses were almost always rough and always included hair pulling, generally grabbing and his firm grip on your waist, often holding your leg up against him so he can feel you all at once.

Keep reading

i have a confession to make;

some of you may already know this, but i have been struggling with alcohol addiction for many months now and thought i should notify u guys about it. on the good side i cut down from everyday to.. not everyday. i lost weight over it and started developing issues with my liver, but im gonna be alright. might be shocking to u because im so happy all the time but yea, its not all peaches and roses over here. anyway its 5am and i need to sleep. goodnight guys. :))

anonymous asked:

I have this headcanon that Rich has ADHD, and no one else seems to have the same headcanon?? I know alot of people think Michael might have ADHD, which I think is a good headcanon too, but Rich with ADHD just sort of jumped out at me listening to the bootleg. Idk, this is just. something I thought to share. 😂

i LOVE that hc a lot tbh

youtube.com
AhgasePosts

I’ve not really spoken about this on tumblr at all but I thought I might mention it just in case you’re curious! Since about September of 2016 I’ve had this channel and have been uploading some Got7 related videos and the channel has done pretty well without any kind of promotion here on my blog. I thought some of you might be interested in watching the videos since they’re all about Got7 (try not to fangirl, compilations etc.)

Feel free to check out my channel if you want to see some cute Got7 vids. Okay and now I feel really weird for this self promo…OH WELL ENJOY

anonymous asked:

Hi hi Hailey!! I've been tossing around the idea of a Viktor-centric fic for a while now, and I wanted your opinion? I know there are some fics in the fandom that are famous and focus on Yuuri's side of the story (no less unthinkable, to name one). But I've wanted to do a character study kind of fic, and I thought it might be interesting to write a fic that follows Viktor through childhood, all the way up to canon?

Sounds good! I love a good Victor backstory fic!

How ‘bout that Book?

And by book, I mean a fic.

Hello all, um, I think I am up to 14 followers now? (internal squee) So yes. Hello all 14 of you and the occasional few random people who might come upon this in your feed as a suggestion.

I read a thing! A fan fic to be exact. And, much to my surprise and joy, I thoroughly enjoyed it. So I thought I might review it. (You’re welcome)

For this one, there are going to be a few extra categories of information since it is a fan fic and all…

Question One: What did I read?

Well, dahlin’, I’d be more than happy to answer that.

I, with my own two, blue eyeballs, read “Hang the Fool” by AlmaMeDuele.

You can find it right here.

Question Two: What Fandom is it for?

I likes me some Overwatch and I have fallen quite a bit in love with the McHanzo ship.

Question Three: What is it about?

These two lovelies falling for each other

source: ryuichifoxe

And also the reuniting of Overwatch, and Jesse McCree’s back story.

Question Four: Why do you like it so much?

Omigod. This requires a list. Possible spoilers so if you want to read this, skip to the TL;DR.

  • For starters, the pacing in this is amazing. I tend to see a lot of pacing issues in fan fics. Normally things happen entirely too fast and it feels forced.
  • Then there is the detail and the way the characters are portrayed. Their motivations are wonderful. The way everything is just so casual but not is wonderful. Watching (Reading) these two fall in love is wonderful.
  • And then there is Jesse McCree. I have a weak spot for guys who are battling their own demons and man Does McCree have his fair share of demons. It is wonderful. The portrayal of his reactions and his panic attacks are amazing. I could read stuff like that for days. Days.
  • Character development! I am going to be honest. I went into this not expecting much. I used to read fan fic a long time ago and I rarely if ever actually enjoyed them. The ideas were always good but poorly executed. Seeing this much depth and growth within the characters from “Hang the Fool” was truly amazing and I need more. I need it.
  • The conflicts, the imagining of Talon and Reyes’ involvement, the growth of Overwatch, the concern of characters for each other, the human emotions. Seriously, this person needs to be like a published author is they aren’t already. I really love this.

Question Five: How long is it?

About 22 chapters. Long enough that it took me about three days of reading and put my other books on the back burner.

Question Six: Age rating?

I normally don’t add this question to a review but I think that a lot of the McHanzo fics may end up being M (for mature). This one is definitely mature, and not just because of the sex. Events that take place, emotions, reactions, PTSD. All those things make it M.

Question Seven: What would I rate this?

A solid 8 or 9 out of 10. Seriously. Go read this. Read this fic right now. It gave me life. Even if you don’t know or play or care about Overwatch, it stands alone as an awesome story regardless. READ IT.

TL;DR

  1. I read a fan fic called “Hang the Fool”
  2. It is based on the Overwatch, McHanzo fandoms.
  3. It is so good and you should read it. Like stop reading this and go read that.
  4. The pacing, character development, and over all writing is fantastic.
  5. It is M for mature, and I give it a pretty high rating.
  6. GO READ IT

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd because we are all talking about this fandom already…(I know I already did Overwatch, but I don’t care)

Originally posted by mariejacquelyn

Female companions react to sole joking about their death when really they're really considering it because they hate themselves but playing it off like nothing is wrong

Thank you for this ask, anon. I’m hoping this one might give people who are dealing with this some hope and comfort, maybe even to talk about it to someone they love and trust. These characters would believe in you, and one way or another so do I ❤️

Here is the one I made for the boys

Intro: Sole was not doing nearly as well as they pretended to. Being in the ravages of the commonwealth, losing what they lost… they felt useless, hadn’t been able to stop it all. Sole couldn’t shake the thought that nothing would change that feeling. They hated themself for not being good enough, never feeling happy enough so faking that it was to the outside world was the next best thing. Joking to hide it, just one day at a time, as long as nobody found out about it. That was until the day, in spite of the smile still set on their face, something must’ve shone through in one of their jokes. They were looking into the very concerned eyes of their Companion. “ Hey… are you alright?”
It took Sole a fraction of a second to regain their composure, to get back to the façade and the fake smile. “Yeah, of course! I was just joking, let’s go.” Their companion held them by the arm, not tightly, but just to get them to turn around and stand still.
“ Sole… What is really going on?” The worry in their voice made Sole cave in entirely. They had hoped never to have to explain this… not like they would understand it anyway. But they couldn’t evade it anymore. Tears welled up in Sole’s eyes as they admitted that maybe they hadn’t just been jokes.

Curie:
Curie looked more worried than she ever had before, and that was saying something considering she was usually the one to patch up Sole’s wounds. This wasn’t something any kind of medical knowledge could prepare her for, nothing she could just fix. So she went with the new instincts that came with having a body and pulled sole into a tight hug, allowing them to just cry it out and making sure they had the physical affirmation that someone was there to cling to. When Sole calmed down a bit they were the first to speak “Curie, thanks but, I’m fine, I’m sorry to have sprung that on you I didn’t mean to…”
Curie shook her head “Non! No apologies!”
Sole sighed, looking defeated. “ You mean more zho me zhan anyzhing in zhe world. I want zho know if somezhing is wrong! “ She placed her hand on Sole’s cheek. “ You are loved and important. Whatever I can do zho help… please let me.”

Des:
Sole tried to regain their composure as Des stood there in shock. She hadn’t seen it coming, she wondered how she didn’t notice. How she didn’t realise that the person with the weight of the world on their shoulders couldn’t be going through this. “Sole, if I can help…”
Sole shook their head and wiped away their tears with the back of their hand. “ This is my fight Des, not yours. I can’t just be saved. This isn’t like managing an escape route for someone who was trapped by some sort of evil dictator, I’m battling myself.”
“ I know that, but a little help from your friends can’t hurt. After all these years of speaking to people who are trying to get their life back or started I’ve learned that talking helps. You don’t have to talk to me but…  talk to someone. Regardless, my door is definitely always open. “
“ I don’t want to be a nuisance, I know very well this world doesn’t revolve around me. “ Sole looked down, not wanting to face her anymore. “Hey look at me.” Des made sure she made eye contact with Sole. “ And I don’t want to lose you.”

Haylen:
Haylen looked up at Sole, sighed and held on to them. “I’m not going to say I get it. That I know how it feels. But… I’m here. And I get part of it.”
Sole breathed in and out and tried to calm down a little. Haylen just sat there with them until they did, holding on to their hand. 
“What do you mean, you get part of it? “
“ I figured Danse told you about this…” Haylen looked down. “ I was forced to give a Knight, who I stayed with for 2 days and nights, an overdose of painkillers. He couldn’t be saved, his wounds were too severe. I knew that. But I refused to just… “ Haylen’s face looked pained. “Anyway, I collapsed and Danse held on to me. I did something that according to my medical training was wrong, I kept… thinking of what I could have done anyway. Perhaps, something would have worked. I’m pretty sure I slipped into  a depression. Kept it down though. Rhys… helped me through it. Danse did too, but without knowing. And some meds. Regardless, I know what it feels like to feel stuck in the dark. I know part of this might be due to what happened back in that vault of yours.”
“ He did tell me, I just… we weren’t that close yet so I didn’t put two and two together.” Haylen scoffed. “It’s fine, he probably didn’t either. All I’m saying is… All you and I want to do is go back and save the people that we love… add up this kind of world to that instinct and things get bad fast sometimes. But you shouldn’t go through this alone. I got you. If you need to talk, I won’t judge you for it, not for a second. “

Glory:
Glory’s eyes widened. “ You… what?” She couldn’t bring herself to do anything, the shock kept her set in place. Sole looked up at her, watery eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Can we… ignore I just said that?”
“ No! I wanna hug you and slap you at the same time. How long have you felt like this?” Sole smiled but remained extremely unconvincing. “ A while.”
Glory inhaled deeply and as she exhaled she put her hands on Sole’s shoulders. “Listen, you’re gonna be okay. You hear me? I don’t know how we’re gonna do it yet but we’re gonna do this. I got you.” Her words weren’t helping, but to have her on their side did help a little, not being alone with this helped a little. 

Magnolia:
Magnolia’s usual in charge and independent look changed to one of compassion at the look of Sole crying. She had no idea what to do, what to say. She avoided getting too personally involved with people, but Sole was different somehow. She always considered Sole to be the ultimate survivor and knowing they felt broken on the inside broke her heart a little as well. She just held Sole and said “It’s okay. Look forward to small things, I would recommend my fantastic performances but they can hardly be called small things. And carry on. Stay here for a while. There’s room in my bed and in my arms for you for as long as you need, my hoards of admirers will just have to wait.”

Piper:
Piper’s lips parted a little, and the look in her eyes softened. “ Well… I can’t say this is a big surprise.”
“ I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for this. Just… ignore I said anything.” She pushed a strand of hair from Sole’s face and let her hand rest on their cheek, wiping one of their tears away. “I noticed something was wrong before but I kinda wanted to wait for you to tell me. I didn’t want to risk putting those kind of thoughts in your head.” She sighed and tilted her head a little. “ I’m so sorry I waited to ask. I should’ve asked sooner. “ Piper felt helpless, not having a clue what she could possibly do to help. “ No, it’s my fault. A lot of things are.”
“ Damnit Blue… you’re the best damn thing in this world. I know how selfish this is going to sound but I need you. You may be down in the dirt now but you still have this glow to you. The promise that there are a couple of good people left out there. You don’t know what it means to me to have you by my side. So… You can cry, or scream, Whatever feels right and I will stay by your side. No matter how bad it gets I’m gonna be right there with you. So when it gets too much,.. you know I’m a good listener. Even off the record.” Sole remained silent, but looked right into her eyes. She grabbed Sole’s hands. “ You are not a bad person, okay? And you are loved.” 

dracxlucius  asked:

I just saw your book is gonna be printed (idk if I'm expressing myself correctly) but I wanna know if it's gonna be available in Brazil :)

your english is good, don’t worry!

i don’t know if amazon distributes to brazil, however a thought i had was that i could buy a few extra copies of the print one and sell them through etsy, and that way i could ship it to anywhere

that might take a few more days, i want to update the grammar in it first

gay-as-hell-moonbyul  asked:

hello I'm interested in taking my Korean to the next level and trying to read a Korean novel.. I'd categorize myself asn intermediate high/advanced low Korean speaker... I was wondering if you had any book recommendations that you think would be suitable! thank you so much :)

Hello!

This might be kind of a cop out answer, but my recommendation would be to just find any book that grabs your interest and dive in!  There’s a Facebook group that gives good summaries of popular novels, 책 끝을 접다.  Browse through their posts and see if anything catches your eye, then buy it and start reading!  It might be difficult at first, but if you keep at it, it’ll become easier.  

Another option, if the thought of a novel is still intimidating, is the 외국인을 위한 한국어 읽기 graded reader series.  I believe they have books running the gamut from beginner to advance, so you’re sure to find one that suits your level.  Other bonuses of the series: difficult words are glossed at the bottom of each page; they’re available for download directly onto your phone or tablet via the Google Play Store!  They are definitely much easier to read than actual novels, but they might help ease you into more lengthy Korean readings.

I hope this was somewhat helpful!

EDIT: Oh, and, of course, you could always find the Korean version of a book you’ve already read and enjoyed!  Your familiarity with the story could be an asset in making sense of the Korean.

John had to remind himself that he was angry. He had a right to sulk as well, didn’t he? He valiantly tried to ignore the way the other man was rummaging inside the freezer in their kitchen, and instead he bravely concentrated on washing the dishes with a renewed fervor; his ponce of a flatmate could never be bothered with something so mundane. John could hear the rattling sound of ice cubes in the background, and he could see from the corner of his eyes the way his flatmate was wrapping several of them in a towel. Good, he knows first aid, was his immediate thought, and then he inwardly cursed himself for being concerned. You’re not supposed to care, remember?

After several minutes of strained silence, Sherlock finally spoke.

“John, I know you’re still angry at me,” he said softly. “But I’m going to need your help with wrapping the bandages.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added: “I think my wrist might be sprained.”

John closed his eyes and let his chin drop to his chest in resignation. Damn his doctor’s instincts for kicking in. Damn him for being a decent person who couldn’t stand to see anyone hurt.

“I’m going to get my medicine kit from the bathroom upstairs,” said John, his voice carefully neutral. He wiped his hands and turned to look at his flatmate, who was resting his injured wrist on the table while his other hand was pressing a cold compress on it. The doctor in him couldn’t help but feel relieved at Sherlock’s proficiency, and the corners of his lips lifted in approval, before he schooled his expression once more. “Keep that wrist elevated and don’t move.”

A few minutes later, with his medical kit in his hand, John found Sherlock waiting in their sitting room. His injured hand was now resting on the arm rest of their chair. John sighed. “You know, Sherlock, when I say ‘don’t move,’ I do actually mean it.”

“The lighting is better here,” Sherlock insisted. “And it’s safer to apply first aid here than in the kitchen. There are certain chemicals that might… interfere with the healing process.”

John’s brows crinkled and he opened his mouth to ask, before he thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t even want to know,” he muttered.

He pulled a chair to sit in front of Sherlock and placed the kit on the table beside them. Slowly, he reached out and gently examined Sherlock’s hand. “It’s starting to swell,” said John in concern. “I would have taken a look at this earlier, but you just wouldn’t keep still.”

Sherlock sniffed airily. “The kidnapper had to be taken into custody. I couldn’t stop just because of an injured wrist.”

‘I couldn’t stop.’ The words were seared into his mind. John was very carefully not looking at Sherlock. “And when I say ‘wait…’” for me, he silently added, “I mean that too.”

Sherlock hissed sharply when John’s fingers probed a tender spot. “Sorry,” said John softly. He lightly caressed the reddish-purple bruise that was beginning to bloom on Sherlock’s pale skin. “You’re lucky all you got out of that business is a sprained wrist. Why in the world did you jump out of a window?”

Sherlock glared at him. “I did not ‘jump out of a window,’ John. I was catching a criminal. He was trying to escape. I had to tackle him to the ground.”

John rolled his eyes. “So we’re going to play the semantics game now. Fine, then. Why in the world did you tackle the kidnapper to the ground which was four floors below the window? What the hell were you thinking?”

Sherlock looked at John with that inscrutable gaze of his. “I admit, I wasn’t exactly thinking at the time. He was shooting at you.”

John gaped at him. “I know you tend to forget this at times, Sherlock, but I am an army doctor. Dodging bullets is what I do.”

“You’re an invalided army doctor,” Sherlock blithely corrected. “And clearly you haven’t managed to avoid one particular bullet in your lifetime. You’re not invincible, John.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, Sherlock, but neither are you.”

A heavy silence fell upon both of them. John was the first to break eye contact as he reached inside the kit to pull out a roll of bandages. He put aside the cold compress Sherlock was holding and began to wind the bandages around his hand. Sherlock watched quietly as John began at the base of his fingers and slowly worked upwards towards his forearm, his movements careful but precise, gentle but firm.

“Lestrade once called me in to help identify two dead bodies,” Sherlock said suddenly. “Forensics managed to isolate their DNA, but their identities weren’t in the system, so the police had hit a dead end.”

John blinked at the bizarre non-sequitur.   “Surely they would have had other means of identifying the corpses?”

Sherlock shrugged. “The ID’s and papers the victims were carrying turned out to be fake. Apparently, they were illegal immigrants. Just entered the country, in fact.”

Intrigued despite himself, John asked, “So how come the police couldn’t identify them? Surely they could’ve passed around some photographs or something?”

Sherlock looked at him. “They were in a car accident, John. Their faces and their bodies were mangled beyond recognition.”

John drew in a sharp breath. “That’s horrible,” he said softly, genuine sympathy radiating from him in waves. “So did the police eventually find out who they were?”

“Eventually, yes. I couldn’t believe they were so slow,” Sherlock huffed, and John had to stifle a smile. “They just needed the starting point I gave them. I told them that the man was obviously a musician and that the woman was clearly a writer.”

John’s blinked. “What?”

“To be more precise, the man was a guitarist. The woman was clearly a writer in the most traditional sense, for she used a paper and a pencil whenever she wrote. She was probably as technologically illiterate as you—”

Sherlock,” John interrupted. “How did you know what they were?”

“Oh.” Sherlock blinked as his thoughts were derailed. “Because of their hands, of course.”

“Their hands?”

“The man’s left hand had calluses on four of his fingertips, and down the length of the side of his forefinger, but not the thumb. It’s the kind of calluses one acquires over time when the tips of one’s fingers are continuously pressed and slid against the strings of a guitar’s fretboard.   The man’s calluses were hard, so it suggested that he didn’t just play the guitar casually but professionally, almost constantly.”

Sherlock’s other hand was thoughtlessly waving and gesturing in the air as he spoke, and John was mesmerized both by the movements and by the almost hypnotizing quality of Sherlock’s voice, that tell-tale dip in his register which occurred whenever his words were scrambling to catch up with how fast his brain was operating.

“Now the woman had only one callus on her left hand, a circular corn of hard skin on the side of her middle finger, near the tip. She was a bit trickier to figure out, and it was only when I saw the grey smudges on the outer side of her pinky and down the outer side of her palm that I made the connection.”

John thought hard for a moment. “The grey smudges were from pencil lead,” he said when comprehension dawned on him.

When Sherlock’s gaze snapped to his in pleasant surprise, his smile was so fond and proud that John had to shyly avert his gaze. “Yes,” said Sherlock softly. “She was heavy-handed, because the callus on her left hand was made by the indentation of the pencil she held against her finger whenever she wrote. If she had been a sketch artist, the smudges of pencil lead should’ve been all over the back of her hand, especially the knuckles. But the marks of the lead were consistent along her pinky and the side of her palm, which made it more likely that she was a writer, especially because she was obviously left-handed.”

“Because that’s the complaint of left-handed people everywhere,” John mused. “Because our writing system is from left to right, and the smudging of pencil lead can’t be helped. Heaven knows that’s my constant complaint as well.” John shook his head as he reached over to cut the bandage with his scissors. “Sherlock, that’s… amazing.”

Sherlock shrugged, but the smile on his face betrayed his obvious pleasure at John’s praise. “It was a bit of a stroke of luck, actually, that their hands were undamaged, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to see those details.”

“But that’s what I don’t understand,” said John as he reached inside the kit for the clips to hold the bandage in place. “You said that the bodies were mangled beyond recognition. Even their faces couldn’t be clearly identified. How come their hands remained so pristine?”

“Ah. You see, John, that was the first clue.”

John looked up at the strange tone of Sherlock’s voice. Their gazes met, and John found that he couldn’t look away.

“The reason why their bodies were so unnaturally mangled was because the victims saw the truck coming seconds before it crashed onto their car,” Sherlock said quietly. “They had just enough time to twist their bodies so that their hands would be protected. That was the first clue that alerted me. Because the only people who’d go so far to protect that particular part of their body were the people who actually made a living out of it.”

John’s brows furrowed. “But that doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that when they knew there was a very good chance that they’d die anyway?”

“It was instinct, John,” murmured Sherlock. “It was something they didn’t even have to think about. Even in the face of death, people tend to protect their most valuable asset. It was instinctual for them… to protect the one thing that was more important to them than anything.”

John felt Sherlock’s fingers curling around his. He dropped his gaze to them, and dimly he noted how different their hands were; Sherlock’s fingers were long and pale and absurdly elegant, which were a sharp contrast to his own fingers, which were stubby and tan and weathered. Yet when their fingers were entwined like this, their differences somehow… fit. Like the spaces in between their fingers were created in the exact size and shape for the other’s fingers to slip through, to fill, to hold on to.

“Their hands…” John murmured as his thumb stroked the bandage covering Sherlock’s skin. “Their hands are that important to them?”

“Yes,” Sherlock whispered. “Even until the end, they protected the most important thing in the world for them. Death hadn’t been the worse option. Living without the thing that gave their life meaning was… unthinkable.”

John was startled out of his daze when Sherlock pulled his fingers away. He raised his hand and held it up to his face as he peered at it closely. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, and found that although the bandage was tight and secure, the movements of his fingers were not completely restricted.

“You fixed me rather well, Doctor Watson.” He lowered his hand and caught John’s apprehensive gaze. “Thank you.”

The sincerity and softness in Sherlock’s eyes made John forget, for the moment, all the reasons why he was angry: the frustration at being left behind again, the fear that lodged in his throat and made his heart stop when Sherlock launched himself through the window, the uselessness he felt when Sherlock wouldn’t even let him check for injuries in favor of wrapping up the case.

“You’re welcome,” said John softly, before he cleared his throat and made himself sound as intimidating as possible. “But you better take it easy for the next couple of days, Sherlock. That hand needs to be elevated at all times to stop the swelling.”

“Of course, Doctor Watson,” Sherlock answered brightly, his wide eyes deceptively innocent.

John’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it, Sherlock. I’m going to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t cause yourself any more injury.”

I won’t let you leave me behind again, was left unspoken in the air between them.

Sherlock held his gaze for a moment before the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile. “Of course you will, John,” he said gently. “Of course you will.”

The following morning, Sherlock received a phone call from Lestrade asking them to come to the station to answer a few questions regarding the case they had just wrapped up the previous night. As they were heading out, John watched as Sherlock put on his coat, his scarf and…

John blinked. “Sherlock?”

“Hmm?”

John stared. “Aren’t you going to put these on?” He held out Sherlock’s leather gloves.

Sherlock glanced at it before he waved at the air dismissively. “Leave them,” he instructed as he fumbled with the scarf, careful not to aggravate his sprained wrist. “I don’t need to wear them anymore.”

John’s eyebrows rose. He had never seen Sherlock without these gloves; along with that coat and that scarf, it was almost part of his uniform. “It’s pretty cold out there today, Sherlock. And you have an injured hand. Don’t you need the added protection?”

Sherlock raised his bandaged wrist and wiggled his fingers. “I found that I can move much more freely without that so-called ‘added protection.’ Besides,” he added when John opened his mouth to protest, “I don’t need to be protected when I know you’re there to fix whatever damage I’ll get.”

That effectively derailed whatever John had already planned on saying. He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and tried again. “Sherlock,” he said in a tone that was equal parts exasperation and affection. “You have an unhealthy amount of trust in my ability to fix you.”

“I can say the same about you, you know,” Sherlock answered with a smirk. “The difference is,” and he wiggled his fingers again, “I have proof.”

And before John could even begin to process that statement, Sherlock had already disappeared down the stairs with a dramatic flourish of his coat.

John stared at the gloves he held in his hand.

The man was obviously a musician.’

‘They had just enough time to twist their bodies so that their hands would be protected.’

‘The only people who’d go so far to protect that particular part of their body were the people who actually made a living out of it.’

I don’t need to wear them anymore.’

“John!” Sherlock called from downstairs.

Even in the face of death, people tend to protect their most valuable asset.

‘I wasn’t exactly thinking at the time. He was shooting at you.’

His grip on the gloves tightened.

‘Death hadn’t been the worse option.’

“John?” Sherlock called again, the impatience in his tone now tinged with worry.

He carefully folded the gloves and placed them inside an empty cardboard box lying in the middle of their sitting room. Then he took a deep breath before he called out:

“Coming!”

And John Watson ran down the stairs to follow Sherlock Holmes. He always does. He always will.

‘I know you’re there to fix whatever damage I’ll get.’

Hey so I was thinking of doing another giveaway around mid-june. I might not have time to do two full drawings, so as an alternative would a gifted copy of Story of Seasons or Story of Seasons:Trio of Towns sound good as a main prize? The winner can choose if they want the game or a drawing ofc. I’ll have to look into if you can do that over the Nintendo eStore or if Amazon would handle it better but leave your thoughts here please!

E: If you’re shy anon is on.
youtube.com
Steven Universe- Love Like You lyrics (August 2016)
Steven Universe Love like you lyric video Steven Universe and Love Like You Is owned By Rebecca Sugar. Song - https://www.youtube.com/user/phizzyphizzy https...

i feel like ugly crying do you see just how this song???? just bleeds and screams of sheith??!!????? LOOK-

I always thought I might be bad
Now I’m sure that its true
‘Cause I think you’re so good
And I’m nothing like you

Look at you go
I just adore you
I wish that I knew
What makes you think I’m so special

If I could begin to do
Something that does right by you
I would do about anything
I would even learn how to love


it’s literally the heart and soul of every pining!keith hc ever????? um???

SHINee World V - Hong Kong

A fan account I’m just writing for Tiia @gone-with-the-bling, because she wants to read one, even though I’m not quite sure what to write. First things first, this will be once again not really a fan account, because my head is a mess and I can’t point out things in order. Secondly, everything I write should be once again read with a grain of salt, because I’m just one person (who was really exhausted that day I might add) of many.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Anonymous opinion: I don't know you well at all, have only just been a follower for a little while. You seem like you've got a sharp mind and a sharp sense of humor, and like you exist in a mode filled with deep emotions and high thoughts. I think if we ever met IRL we might get along pretty well, even though when it comes to goin' out and doin' stuff I'm probably daintier than thou (hope that sounded good-naturedly self-deprecating as intended and not just snotty)

Thank you! If you are ever in my area absolutely feel free to try to meet me! Also super duper feel free to message me if you want to get to know me better I love to talk to everyone

ah_michaeljones: 

“Gather round, for Michael has a story to tell you. 

Recently, I once again found myself in an interesting position. An opportunity for me to try something new (career wise) presented itself and I had to ponder whether or not I would do it. I weighed the options, the pros and cons, the best and worst case scenarios. I decided that I would probably not perform well and instead of potentially embarrassing myself in a field that is more or less unknown to me, I passed on the opportunity. You would think that would be the end of it but it wasn’t. For some reason I couldn’t shake this odd feeling. Like I had done something wrong. Now many of you might say “Michael that’s crazy! You don’t care about anything!” Oh how wrong you are. It’s true I’ve become quite comfortable in front of the camera at Roosterteeth but this doesn’t apply to all walks of life. In these past few days, thinking of this offer I declined because I KNEW I would be no good, it reminded me of another time I thought that. In 2014 I had the amazing opportunity to audition for a role in the Funimation dub of Fairy Tail. This was a dream come true. I’ve always wanted to voice act ever since I was a kid. I printed out my lines and practiced for days and days but when the day of the audition finally came, I backed out. I told Lindsay that I wasn’t good enough and that I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these professionals who I had never met. She refused to let me. More or less forcing me into the car, she drove me 3 ½ hours to Dallas for the audition I KNEW I would fail. Well as you may know, I did go, I did audition, and I got the part. All because my wife believed in me when I didn’t. Pondering this, and where I’ve gotten so far in life by taking chances on the unknown, I changed my mind about this future opportunity. I won’t refuse to try. I won’t rely on someone else to push me to fulfill my dreams. I won’t stop taking chances. My point is this. Maybe I will fuck it up and make a total fool of myself, but maybe I won’t. Maybe it’ll be one of the greatest experiences of my life that I might never get a second chance at. Who knows? I won’t let the unknown stop me. Neither should you.”

Don’t give me hope. Please. Be clear that it’s over. Break my heart. It’s ok. Just don’t give me hope. Don’t string me along, allowing me to develop this false pretense that we might get back together. You know that it’s over, but I don’t. I am an optimist. I am holding onto this thin thread of hope that we might miraculously work things out and end up together again. So, please. Break my heart into a million pieces and be clear that there is nothing left to salvage.
— 

-Hope isn’t always a good thing.

-m.t.t.