it's all about hope

do i say i love you to you all too much? I just do tho. i know i don’t know hardly any of you personally but just seeing you all in my activity and the comments you write, just make me so happy! i’m always creeping ;) LOL but seriously i see you all. i really do! i feel like we’re all friends already even though we haven’t talked! idk i just always think about all of you and worry! i just feel like some of you are crying or going through horrible things and i hate not knowing who those people are. because i sincerely want to be there for each and every one of you but i know some are shy or just don’t like talking to people about their personal stuff. but honestly all the things you all tell me in messaging is safe with me and will never get out to anyone. i feel like i was put in this world to help people so that’s what i’m doing and i generally love doing it. i never ever write posts like these to look like a “good” person or something and people will like me. i generally love people. i generally love you all honestly. i’ve met so many wonderful people on here that deserve so much love and kindness and that’s all i want to show you all.

Keith! When will my Life Begin animatic for the Klance Tangled AU!!

edit:sorry about the fire cracking up. I think it’s the gradient that’s causing the file to become a little corrupt. I’ll try to fix it and update it asap

edit edit: The song is a pitched down version of the original song

  • fanfic writer: *writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
  • fic: *witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
  • fanfic writer: Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
  • fanfic writer: Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
  • fandom: Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
  • fanfic writer: :/
  • * * *
  • same fanfic writer: *writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
  • fanfic writer: LOL *post*
  • fandom: OMG THIS IS THE BEST THING YOU HAVE EVER GRANTED US WITH, WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE, OMG, I NEED A SEQUEL IMMEDIATELY, PLEASE. WHAT THE. I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY. *kudosrebloglikereccomment*
  • fanfic writer: *sigh*

you know what would be great ? lena being good despite all odds. lena breaking off her last name. lena being raised in hate only to have it not define her. only to stay kind. let her have that. let her not be shaped by her family’s flaws. let her be herself.

2

#that little smirk tho #so smitten

I once told a joke about a straight person.

They came after me in droves.

Each one singing the same:

Don’t fight fire with fire.

*

What they mean is: Don’t fight fire with anything.

Do not fight fire with water.

Do not fight fire with foam.

Do not evacuate the people.

Do not sound the alarms.

Do not crawl coughing and choking and spluttering to safety.

Do not barricade the door with damp towels.

Do not wave a white flag out of the window.

Do not take the plunge from several storeys up.

Do not shed a tear for your lover trapped behind a wall of flame.

Do not curse the combination of fuel, heat, and oxygen.

Do not ask why the fire fighters are not coming.

*

When they say: Don’t fight fire with fire.

What they mean is: Stand and burn.

—  Stand and Burn by Claudia Boleyn
5

James as a sniper

for Anonymous

instagram

Happy Valentine’s Day ♥️🌹

Me Against You

( Request: Reader and Spiderman being on opposite sides in Civil War.

PART 2, PART 3

A/N: This is my first time writing for Peter Parker, and I hope I’ve done this request justice!!  Feel free to send in more requests about this cutie pie!!  Please don’t post this elsewhere without my permission!! 


“Keep going, (Y/N)!” Sam hollers. “Get to the jet!”

You hunker down behind a bench. From your vantage point, you can see Spiderman kicking Sam and Bucky into a pane of safety glass. You duck your head to shield your eyes, so you don’t actually see the windows explode. But you hear it. You feel it, too. Those little shards of glass hurt as they pelt onto bare arms and legs.

You wish you’d thought to wear jeans.

“Go!”

You go. You rise from behind your cover and sprint. Coach would be so proud, if he could see you now.

“Your, mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get through enemy territory, and hijack their jet.”  So Captain America hadn’t said it in those words exactly, but the point he’d been trying to get across was essentially the same. Bucky and Sam would keep you from having to engage anybody, leaving you free to slip over to the Hangar and get the jet prepped and ready to go. You would have loved to pilot a jet – say, maybe, after about ten years of lessons, not after some hastily given instructions from ex-Agent Barton – and had told Captain America as much. You only had a learner’s permit for driving a car, not some fancy, high-tech jet, but he was adamant on having you as the getaway driver.

And, if you were being honest, having Captain America relying on you for help was pretty darn awesome.

“Behind you!”

Bucky’s warning comes too late. As you run onward and duck into a hallway, spandex-covered arms embrace you from behind – one around your shoulders, one around your waist. You put on an extra spurt of speed. The hands latch on. A shrill scream splits the air. It sounds like you. But it’s a futile effort – Sam and Bucky are securely trussed up, sticky webbing keeping them pinned to the floor. Even if they wanted to help, they couldn’t.

Let me go!” You demand, twisting and kicking. “Let me go right this instant!”

Inexplicably, the arms around you slacken; drop gracelessly back to their owner’s sides. You scramble away, with wide and frightened eyes, until the small of your back hits the concrete wall.  

(Y/n)?” You stiffen. Oh, no. Please, no. The voice, though woolly and quiet, is thoroughly familiar to you, from years of studying with him, talking to him, being friends with him. “Oh, God. Oh, God, why are you here? (Y/n), you shouldn’t be here.”

“Peter?” You blurt out. “Peter, is that you?”

“I – I’m not –” He’s nervously tripping over his words, trying to come up with a suitable lie. “I’m Spiderman, not –”

Your lips twist up in a sad smile. “You’re a rotten liar, Peter.”

And this time, he doesn’t try to deny it.

The two of you had been best friends ever since the second grade, when your nanny had forgotten to pack your lunch one day, and Peter had given you half of his tuna and mayo sandwich. You’d shared every day, every moment … Every secret.

However, it would appear, not every  secret.

“So … Spiderman, huh?” You manage, letting out a watery laugh that doesn’t hold any real humor in it. Spiderman might have saved you once, but this side of Peter is new and entirely foreign, much like the new and shiny suit that he’s sporting. “You’ve – You’ve really been busy, huh?”

You wonder when Peter was going to tell you; or if he was even planning to. Ever since Uncle Ben had passed, Peter had been acting strange: Showing up to school bruised and bloodied, cancelling days out together with only the flimsiest of excuses, showing up late to the appointments he did agree to go for …

And now you finally, finally know why.

“I-I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Peter says miserably. Even under the mask, you know that his forehead is creased and puckered up, warm chocolate eyes downcast. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t – There was never a good time.”

Of course not.

“So what you’re really saying is: You don’t trust me.” It bursts out of you. You’ll admit there’s a sour surge of satisfaction when Peter recoils, even though you haven’t raised a hand to him. It comes out again, louder this time. “That’s what it all boils down to, doesn’t it? I thought we were friends. I trusted you. I told you everything – the boys I liked, the crushes I had. I thought –”

Me?” Peter’s glumness turns into irritation, and you realise your mistake. “I’m not the only one keeping secrets! You didn’t tell me that you’d be running around with Captain America and a bunch of –”

- Criminals. He doesn’t say it, but you know that’s what he means. The word hits you like a ton of bricks. You stare at Peter, not moving, not even blinking. A day ago, that wouldn’t have meant you. A day ago, you and Peter would have been in school. A day ago, the two of you would have still been friends.

When you had accepted Captain America’s request for help, you didn’t think that you’d have to face off with your best friend in the process.

(Y/n), I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –”

He’s cracked something in you wide open. You stride away from the boy you once knew, but you can’t leave yet.

“Fine,”  You say, infusing the word with venom. “Then arrest me. Take me in. I’m just a criminal, right?”

Your voice rises in octaves, building up to a high crescendo. Your anger rises up, blooming in your chest like a poisonous flower, and you focus on that, since it chases away the chill that permeates deep into your bones. Blind now with a mingled combination of hurt and anger, your hand lashes its way through the air in a flicking motion, forcing the powers sleeping deep inside you to the surface. Even though Peter’s standing motionless at least six feet away, he’s shoved up into the air by an invisible force, slamming into the window behind you hard enough to crush bones. He flies out the window with a shriek.

You turn away from the remnants of shattered glass and a broken friendship, gloom already gathering atop your shoulders to weigh you down. In another life, you might have been fighting by his side, the two of you working together as Avengers. Now you’ve become public enemy number one.

Criminal, criminal. Your mind chants it over and over again, in a sing-song, lilting voice, matching each syllable with your racing pulse. I’m a criminal.

help me immigrate? (repost)

hello! i’m an autistic queer/trans immigrant of colour. i have been dealing with various financial issues (link), mainly due to my residency status, but: i can finally apply for permanent residency! and with the recent turn of the election… i really want to finish this long, long journey

the only problem is that the actual application costs a lot of money. i need $550 for just the initial application processing fee, as well as $200 for the medical exam, and $490 for the acceptance fee. this doesn’t include fees for FBI check, keeping up with my other bills, etc. as explained in the post linked above, i can’t afford to save up for this right now, so i’m asking for help

the support i’ve received has meant more than the world to me, and i am so thankful for all of it. i don’t know how to pay back all the love and generosity i’ve received. i hope this will be the last time i have to ask for help, as getting permanent residency would open so many doors for me. i want to make things right for myself, and for all the people who believe i can and have helped me

i have a donation button on my blog, or you can donate directly to me at shinjiabrahams@yahoo.ca. if you are uncomfortable donating, i can do $5 sketches right now. either e-mail or PM me if you are interested in that! (this post will be updated soon with a place to view examples, sorry)

thank you, be gentle with yourself, thank you, thank you

8

Happy 26th birthday, Thiago! (11.04.1991)

I was watching @therealjacksepticeye play Night in the Woods, and I love the friendship between Mae and Gregg!!
(Gregg is my spirit animal tbh)

reblogs>likes

..okay but what was the point of getting jian yi kidnapped AGAIN if nothing came out of it………………..

5

They’re saps

Have you noticed that the relationship between Candy and our crush is mostly about kissing and rarely some shallow (is it the right word??) talks. I wish they talked about, for example, their hobbies; that they got to know each other more. 
The other thing is the jealousy - yes, some is needed. but some, not that much. Castiel throws a bag at the boy who tried to kiss us, Lysander tells him to find a girlfriend or Kentin throwing a basketball. Isn’t it too much? They are teenagers, sure, but this isn’t normal. What’s next? The toxic relationship when the man can’t go out because he is for sure cheating on his girlfriend?
I, personally, really don’t like the fact that Castiel and Lysander, who have been friends for a longer time than Candy is in Sweet Amoris, fight, because the other has said that Candy looked good in her dress (really, I doubt Lysander would say something disrespectful). They should talk about it, not throw bags or be rude. That’s kinda OOC.
I also have a feeling that the creators wanted to make such a big deal about the jealousy scenes that they forgot about boys’ personalities (if they have any). The bag that Castiel threw at Lysander (who, don’t forget, had an accident around a month before?) could’ve been a bag with clothes in it and it wouldn’t be heavy, but it could as well be full of books. 
Maybe I’m overthinking, but I don’t think it’s healthy at all. What do you guys think?

+ my bf is Lys and my second highest LoM is Armin, when I told Lysander about Iris the first thing he said was “It seems Armin is never far behind you…” and that she should call him for help. Not a big deal at all but getting jealous because he was the only person that could hack her computer…? And they are helping a girl with, it seems, serious problems. It’s not about the fact that Armin was with Candy, it’s about helping Iris.