is best writer

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This is just… so… beautiful, I cried 😭😭

I’ve been reading and noticing the gifset posts about this comparison - about Kara’s perfect partner - on Tumblr… And at that time, I was like, “well yeah duhh they are perfect for each other she got what she asked for.. she finally found her perfect partner. I knew that, they are canon #karamelforever” without really remembering about that scene Kara and James had.. But watching this video, and see Kara’s desperation to find her “perfect partner” and now she finally found one… Let me tell you, if I haven’t fallen for Karamel, if it’s even possible for me to fall even harder for Karamel than I am right now, I am possibly falling even more more harder - from the top of the sky the furthest planet in the galaxy to the deepest side of the earth - for Karamel now. Thank you Melissa and Chris for playing this role amazingly! ❤

And now - geez my heart is so full it’s going to burst rainbows, I’m just gonna say it one more time a little louder for the people in the back :
“THEY ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER, SHE GOT WHAT SHE ASKED FOR. SHE FINALLY FOUND HER PERFECT PARTNER. THEY ARE CANON AND NO MATTER WHERE THEIR STORY LEADS AND HOW THEIR STORY ENDS #KARAMELFOREVER IN MY HEART”

“You First.”

Pairing: Reader x Hanse
Genre: Fluff
Request: Anon:  “hanse fluff where the reader has a crush on him and isnt ready to tell him, but when she finally has courage to confess he confesses to her first? 😊 i love your writing btw you are one of the best writers on tumblr 😁😁”

Originally posted by jeupstan

“Just tell him already!” Your best friend, Naeun groaned as you talked about how much you like one of the Victon rookies.

Keep reading

Even if you find
someone new,
to talk to every night,
to hang out with every day,
to share the giggles and
laughter at some
secret jokes,
to walk with and tell
wonderful stories,
I am still here,
waiting for you
to knock at my door
and sit beside me,
like we never missed
each other,
I am still here,
even if you’re not asking.
I am still here,
even if you weren’t
going to be there
for me anymore.
—  ma.c.a // A Promise
Being in love is great, don’t get me wrong. The kisses, the “I miss you” hugs, the cuddling, the love. Everything about falling in love is what makes a person remember how great it feels to have butterflies in your stomach and to have your heart beat so fast that your chest is going to explode. Being in love with someone is amazing. But being in love with your best friend, god that is fucking the best thing I could ever ask for. Being in love with the person that makes you laugh so hard that you nearly have snot coming out your right nostril and makes your stomach turn inside out. Being in love with the person that you share secrets with and gossip about people with, the person that says “fuck her baby, she don’t know a damn thing” kind of best friend. The person that you can lay next to at night and can’t sleep until 3 am because you were talking about how people can’t learn their damn differences between they’re, their, and there, and then laugh about it. The person that you argue with about what kind of food you want to eat, or who’s going to be the one to get up from the bed and turn off the light. The person that you can lick their face and they won’t look back at you with a confused face, but sticks their finger up your nose. The person that won’t only being the shoulder to cry on, but the shoulder that will bring you back up and make you stronger than before. The person that will tell you whats wrong and whats bothering them instead of being distant and ignore the situation. Loving someone that you can share memories and laughs with, god it is beautiful. Being in love is great, don’t get me wrong. But being in love with your best friend, that is the most wonderful thing I could ever ask for.
—  I’m in love with my best friend

tfw a fanfic writer’s writing style gets better with each new story. like you’re just sitting there sobbing and being all proud of this complete stranger while watching their work improve as you read through their increasingly descriptive stories about anal sex

To fanfiction writers on AO3 who plan to delete their accounts

Hey I know this is a really selfish request. I know I have no right to dictate what you do. I know that we as readers don’t have any right to demand anything from you writers. If you plan on deleting your AO3 account and don’t mind your stories being up for public consumption, but you don’t want your name associated with it can you please Orphan your fanfic? There is an option on AO3 where you can orphan your Fic and it won’t be associated with you or your account. Again feel free to ignore this and continue on with your life. I honestly have only well wishes for you, and if writing Fics isn’t something your interested anymore than cool dude! We’ll miss you. Sorry for this entirely selfish request, and I hope you give orphaning your Fic a thought.

She got me praying all hours of the night, say she want my heart, She pulling me to the river, drawing me with her siren's call, Done gave her my heart but now she wants my soul, Well I already sold it to the man in red, "Fell in love with your charm," but its a curse; cos am dead, Girl you're not who you say, bad girl they say you are Innocence isn't where am at, wear your crucifix bae Don't make me out all serious bonnie, slave to this bad religion, Unrequited love, praying at my shrine, cos I don't have a heart Like a dead man walking, I lay at your side, Make sure you're alright in my world, atleast that for you girl,

I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul

I want to lie down, to go to sleep. But my problems don’t sleep with me. They relay round my head, each time going faster.
—  Classy

“I’ll go nowhere and stay in my head until you find me again. Say you’ll find me.”

She stared, quietly reminiscing on her mundane life filled with the familiarity of her blank words and wondered if there was something that would be subtracted if she were to let go of them.

“I can’t find you, you don’t try to find me.”

She sighed. Their minds were completely seperate, one more of a loud mess and the other quiet. Combined they clashed the way waves do, yet neither dominated the other until one mind screamed.

“I can’t do that for you. Not with your blank words and my void heart.”

Alas the two agreed that meeting eachother at the end of two seperate mazes wouldn’t work.

and she’ll burst—
like a sun-kissed wave crashing against the shore; like a monochrome painting tearing at the seams
and she’ll bloom—
like a heart-shaped moon against a pitch-black sky; like pure sunlight seeping into your skin
and she’ll fade—
like a bird trapped in a blizzard, like a young star dying for the sake of the universe

she will—

when the clouds of men pull their dark cloaks over her starlit eyes.

—  don’t let suns like her be eclipsed / alina

i just wish for once, i could be the best at something. the smartest, the prettiest, the best writer, the most talented musician, the nicest, the most forgiving, the one who makes people laugh the loudest. but there’s always going to be someone who’s better than me, and i know there’s always going to be someone worse too, but for some reason, that doesn’t help my self-esteem. it’s a “if you’re not first, you’re last” kind of thing. it’s like i could be so proud of my accomplishments and then somebody does it better and my whole mood is ruined. it’s like i could think i look pretty in a picture and then i see someone else’s selfie and i delete mine. it’s like i’m so tired of feeling inferior, of judging myself off of how many instagram likes i get and how badly people have treated me, but i don’t know how to stop. i’m so tired of being chosen second and thinking “ah ha! i was right! i do suck!” i wish i was the kind of person who knew their worth without someone having to remind them every two seconds. i wish i could fall in love with my imperfections.

Dear Best Friend.
Friends are like flowers, they grow till they bloom, wilt a little in hot busy rooms. They like milky tea and skies baby blue. They like long walks on the beach and old books on shelves, new. They like journals and stories and speaking in French. They like bunting and summer and a canopy bench with a cat who will dribble and curse noses to itch. They like deep green and yellow and things hand stitched.
Friends are like flowers, they’re beautiful and strange, they hang out in fields drinking sunlight and rain. They arrive in bunches when you show signs of pain, friends are like flowers, such a lovely bouquet.

Books, like landscapes, leave their marks in us. Sometimes these traces are so faint as to be imperceptible - tiny shifts in the weather of the spirit that do not register on the usual instruments. Mostly, these marks are temporary: we close a book, and for the next hour or two the world seems oddly brighter at its edges; or we are moved to a kindness or meanness that would otherwise have gone unexpressed. Certain books, though, like landscapes, stay with us even when we have left them, changing not just our weathers but our climates.
—  Robert Macfarlane, Landmarks