okay sorry love you

Because I’m feeling sappy and thankful...

I just wanted to like thank you guys for giving me a chance and sticking with me since I started writing on here for you guys. Never did I ever imagine I’d end up with 2,365 followers on here, never did I imagine that I would make such incredible friends and have a group of followers who genuinely care about me and are excited for my next story. 

I’ve been writing and reading fanfiction for years, I have always written it for myself as a way to practice my skills but I never intended to ever share it with anyone. As a reader of fanfiction I have always found writers that I love, found stories that are an incredible adaptation of the source material and have anxiously awaited the next update or the next story from a writer. I never thought that I would be a writer like that for other people. Every single time I have someone tell me that they have notifications on for me, they ask to be tagged in fics or they just tell me they enjoy my work I get so unbelievably happy. 

I have been lucky that my work has been so well recieved by you guys and I am grateful to you all every day for sticking around and not being scared off by my ideas. I’m blown away when I’ve gotten some nasty anonymous messages and then so many of you quickly jump to my defense and tell me not to listen to them. You guys are the greatest and I am just so damn lucky. 

There are a few people I wanted to thank in particular:

@daveeddiggsit I started reading your work long before I even made myself another tumblr (I had deleted my old spn one) and found you by looking through the hamilton tags. I was blown away by you and immediately bookmarked your blog on my phone so I could check for updates and new stories every day. I never imagined that I would end up being such good friends with you. Thank you for being there when I need you, being someone to scream about Daveed with and just being an amazing friend

@imaginebeinghamiltrash thank you for being such an amazing friend. We talk daily and I absolutely love talking to you as much as we do. You make me smile, you cheer me up when I’m sad, you remind me to sleep and eat when I forget and you help me when I doubt myself. Never stop being as amazing as you are. 

@and-peggy-yall you are the past version of me, one of my closest friends on this website and I love you so much. You’re always the best to talk with, you made me sob because of the outsiders which I still love and hate you for introducing me to it. You’re so supportive and I can’t thank you enough for being such a great friend. 

@hamiltonsquills you are there for me every single time that I talk about being unhappy about something on this blog and I love you for it. Thank you for being such an amazing friend and caring so much about me I love you mon cher. 

@wrotemywayoutimagines my darling little sibling, thank you for always being there when I need you, thank you for standing up to hateful anons for me and just being an incredible friend. 

@love-doesnt-discriminate thank you for being there every time I need encouragment or cheering up. You are an incredible friend and I love you for it. 

@adothoe thank you for being someone I can have fun with and joke with. Thank you for being an incredible person and friend. I love you. 

@secretschuylersister thank you for being the kindest person, for helping me when I was insecure about my writing and always having something lovely to say about me and my writing. You are amazing person and I love you

@fragmentofmymind thank you for being there for me, for being super, super nice and approachable. Thank you for being such a great friend, i love you. (Also i know we haven’t talked in a little bit I feel very bad about that and will message you soon just know that I love you)

@musicalmiranda Thank you for being someone I can talk about obsessions with books with and being there to encourage me when I needed it most. Thank you for being a great friend.

@tempfixeliza I know we’ve only spoken the one time but I can’t tell you how grateful I was when you came to me and helped me when I was so insecure about my writing. It was incredibly kind of you and I’m very grateful for it. 

@anonnymousefangirl thank you for being there to stick up for me, indulging me with STTTG questions and being there for me when I need it. You’re amazing and I love you.

One year ago today, @anexcessofeverything and I had decided to go to a Sherlock tea held by the Baker Street Babes so that we could meet more London Sherlockians.  We definitely had no idea that in making this random decision we would end up becoming friends with @cupidford and @hotsmugstache and start off our setlock plans.  Forever grateful for y’all and this emotional adventure it put us all on together.

Originally posted by dangbenedict

8

I decided to become an artist when I was about your age. I liked to draw so much, I almost hated to go to bed. And then one day, all of a sudden, I couldn’t draw anything. Everything I drew, I didn’t like. I realized that my art up to then was a copy of someone else, things I had seen somewhere. I decided I had to discover my own style. It’s still difficult. But then, the results… They seem to be a little better than before. It’s nice to be a witch, isn’t it? I like the idea - to be a witch, to be an artist, to be a baker… It’s an energy bestowed by the gods or someone, right? Though thanks to it, we do have to suffer at times.

this is a good time to remember that i love misha collins and that i am incredibly proud of him for doing what he thought was the right thing to do

I really need some like, otayuri fluff in my life rn?? Like pls

•At the beach and Otabek cant swim so Yuri tries to teach him how to swim
•it turns into a giant mess tho because Yuri is apparently a really shitty teacher
•Otabek kisses his frustrations away and instead they make sand castles

•Otabek can draw?? What?? So Yuri lays down on the couch in the LEAST sexy pose and says “draw me like one of your french girls”
•Beka takes a whopping 5 minutes on it, coloring and all, and they laugh at it for 10 minutes
•Later when Yuri falls asleep during the movie at the other end of the couch, Otabek sneaks down and actually does a very nice portrait of Yuri asleep
•Yuri has them both framed in his apartment next to each other

•Yuri constantly buys shit for Beka because he has like no impluse control
•Guys this boy has like a $1,000 backpack okay dont talk to me
•Anyways one day he buys Beka this leather jacket that looks like it belongs in a Lady Gaga music video. Its a crop top jacket with studs and fringe EVERYWHERE and Yuri LOVES IT
•After mails it, like, a week later, Otabek posts a pic on instagram of him, leaning against his bike, in leather skinny jeans and the jacket with ray bands on and it goes like, viral over night. Yuri is s h o o k. Otabek texts him later like, “Oh, by the way, thanks for the jacket Babe”

Give me the boys being silly and stupid and in love p l e a s e

Play it cool
  • Michele: *walks into kitchen* is something burning?
  • Emil: *leans seductively against counter* just my desire for you
  • Michele: Emil the toaster is on fire
I can’t even be upset that you don’t care about me too because you were never mine to care about to begin with…
—  Confessions of a party girl
It was my fault. I knew how you felt and I knew how I felt, but I acted like I could care less. It’s my first instinct not to show interest because I’m just scared of every little thing that could go wrong. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I knew I should have.
I really wanted to love you.
I really did but you wouldn’t let me.
I can’t do this anymore.
I’ve tried and tried but you always push me away.
I would like to apologize for giving up on us but I can’t.
I’m exhausted from feeling insignificant.
I would have shown you a different type of love but I have to go now.
I can’t love you if you don’t want my love.
I just wished you would have told me what you wanted.
You were too vague.
I need certainty.
I really don’t want to give up but I am telling myself to because I don’t want to get hurt either.
Goodbye.
—  T.C - I can’t keep hurting myself
How Would You Feel

A/N: I have this version of Bucky in my head where he’s full on sweetheart and yeah he’s still got bits and pieces of that sorta dominant side but he falls for the reader and has full on hearts and flowers feelings for her. I’m a sap I know. Also it’s based off of that knew Ed Sheeran song ;)

Warnings: I think there’s a cuss word. other than that, flufffffff

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

It started out slowly. It was the simple glances that you shared that first caught your eye, even after having barely known him. 

Then, like a train, it hit. You noticed how close he sat next to you on the sofa, how he’d always call to go on missions with you. He took care of you when you were sick, at your bedside with soup whenever you needed it. He was certainly something else.

Eventually he’d steal small kisses. The first time caught you off guard, he was going on a mission with Steve and Sam and as he was saying bye, he pressed a small peck to your lips. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing either, but neither of you complained and took everything in small steps. 

After that, anytime he entered the room or left, he would peck your lips and pull away with a smile, as if you had been together for years. 

You never spoke a word to each other about it, though, it was all taken in one at a time. After a while, he’d start to sleep in your room with you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Almost as if he was afraid to let you go. 

You two would share conversations with each other that no one else would dare to listen to. He was there for your whenever you needed him and vice versa. 

He’d have panic attacks and nightmares that you’d be there for. He’d scream and yell sometimes and you’d be the one to calm him. Sometimes stuff would be thrown and broken, but you’d stand your ground, kiss him and watch him slowly tire himself out.

One particular night, you two sat alone in a car, the night had fallen over the sky and your eyes had never left him. 

“Life happened, you know?” Bucky murmured, picking at his glove as he explained what exactly happened in 1942. “Steve tried to get to me on that train but he couldn’t. I was on the brink of death when I landed but the soldiers just appeared out of nowhere.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in sympathy, resting your hand on his thigh while you continued to listen. 

It was the first time he was able to talk about it, he hadn’t even fully been able to mention it to Steve which made you feel special that you could be that person he needed. 

“In a sense I’m grateful for it,” He continued, “I would have died in the snow.” 

“But you-” you felt emotional, “you went through so much shit that you shouldn’t have.” A small tear collected in the corner of your eye. 

“It was worth it. I wouldn’t have met you.” Bucky whispered, his sentence faltering slightly at the end, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say those words just yet. 

The tear had then slipped down your cheek, causing Bucky to reach up and wipe it away. “I don’t know what to say.” You looked down, allowing Bucky to take your hands in his. 

He smiled, tilting your chin up to him. “How about I love you?” 

In that moment, your heart filled with absolute admiration and love for the man in front of you. “I do love you.” You responded, watching a grins stretch across Bucky’s face.

“I know you do. You would have ran far away if you hadn’t.” Bucky said, adding humor to a somewhat somber conversation.

“Do you love me too?” You asked, almost embarrassed about the question. Bucky’s humor was wiped from his face, “More than anything.” 

Without another word, you climbed across the center console and straddled Bucky’s thighs, grabbing his jaw and kissing his lips. 

“Say it.” You whispered against his lips, needing to hear it so you knew it was real, that you weren’t dreaming. 

“I love you.” The statement was said so lowly and quickly that you weren’t sure you heard it right but when your brain finally allowed you to understand everything, you almost burst into tears of happiness. 

“How did you know you loved me?” You asked, wanting every detail. 

“That night,” he whispered, lacing his hand in yours, “the night that you sang on the balcony with Natasha and Sam. The fire cast the light perfectly on your face so I could see your shining smile.” 

“You were plastered then, though.” You giggled, remembering the bottle of liquor him and Tony shared.

“I was sober enough to know that you are the most beautiful girl in the world, and that I love you.” Bucky said, causing you to grow serious again. 

“Oh Bucky.” You murmured, kissing him hard, unlike you ever had before. This kiss was filled with so much more passion, so much more heat. Before, Bucky would treat you like glass, but now he needed you just as much as you needed him. 

That night, you two stayed in that car. You could’ve stayed there forever, because you had everything you needed. Bucky was your world, and you were his. That’s what love is.

driving all nature

for my bae @totheverybestoftimesjohn <3 (also, sorry)

The moon shines like a spotlight on the ripples. The end of the game. The final act.

John knows what’s coming. He’s already shivering.

He clutches at the jagged rock wall. He knows it’s useless. It’s fifty feet high, and his hands scrabble at the sharp pebbles, slashing feeling into his frozen skin. The water’s up to his waist, and only rising.

John looks up, but the moonlight blinds him. He thinks he hears a shout, maybe a gunshot, but the well makes sound echo into something indiscriminate. Sherlock’s up there somewhere, but he can’t see him.

He can hear him though.

He can still hear him.

“I love you.”

Those three words. That’s it. Three words, not even spoken to him but to his reflection, though there was no doubt in John’s mind who they were for. Three words he’d spent days and nights imagining in that voice, and still been unprepared. Still couldn’t have imagined how he would breathe them out like the most blessed of prayers and the most sacred of confessions.

“I love you.”

Everything after that had been a blur – a gunshot, a shattering of glass, a frantic attempt at escape scrambling over the rocks, and before he knew it a searing blow to the back of his skull, then darkness. Then the water, and the moon.

It’s up to his chest now, sparkling silver, and John can feel his breath coming in deep sharp blasts, trying to push out his stone-cold lungs.

“Oh God,” escapes from his lips of its own free will. “Oh God, oh God oh God oh God…”

His hand shakes on the rock.

He’s going to die here.

The realization doesn’t make his heart pound, or scream at him out of his rattling mind. It just makes the water cut deeper under his skin, a tiny little knives of ice burrowing into his every pore and all remaining air squeezing itself from him.

“Sherlock…”

He’d tried to shout, but the stone barely echoes back the whisper that comes out of him. His face is wet now too – warmer though, tears – and his throat is closing up.

The patterns of moonlight on the water flicker and waver as they rise up to his shoulders. John hates the way his eyes are drawn to them, the way they morph themselves into hearth fires and gentle warmth, the way the ripples pattern out the familiar walls of Baker Street, the way the swish and slosh of the rising tide creeps into John’s ears as soft violin strings and a low, reverent whisper, three words, over and over and over again…

An ear-splitting crack shoots its way down the well, and John raises his eyes to the heavens.

“Sherlock!”

He’s not even sure if he makes any sound.

The water’s up to his neck.

Two cups of tea melt away from the sitting room table.

Up to his chin.

The sun streaming in through the windows switches off.

John takes a deep breath.

The smiling blue eyes vanish into the darkness.

The water paralyzes John. It’s so cold. His skin sings with a thousand needles of pain but he has to fight through it, he has to try, he has to stay afloat ….

“I love you.”

He pushes himself off the ground, arms flailing for air.

He can’t reach it.

“I love you.”

Panic seizes him at last, making him scream.

“I love you.”

John’s lungs fill with water.


Sherlock drops his gun and his breath explodes out of him.

That’s it. It’s over. Moriarty’s body tumbled off the cliff, the ghost of a laugh still on his upturned lips. Again. Sherlock didn’t stay to see it fall.

Moriarty gone, Smith gone, the woman known as Mary Morstan gone. Sherlock spares no thought for any of them

“John!”

They’d hit him over the head, one of his men, the burly one, and Sherlock only just had time to see him fall before he was wrenched back to Moriarty, hadn’t seen what they’d done with him –

“John!” He screams again into the dark. He climbs over the rocks, and the moon answers only with a sickening white light.

Sherlock’s eyes dart over the landscape, shadows, all shadows, no light, no sound, just the dim ripple of waves reflecting the silence –

Ripples. Moonlight. The well.

“John!”

He stumbles on his way to the edge of it, tearing the knees of his trousers and letting the rocks bite into his palms as he clutches the edge, and he can barely see past the blinding mirror of moonlight but the water is spilling calmly over the sides and there’s a shock of ghostly pale among the blackness that no waves could ever obscure.

Oh God, no.

In an instant Sherlock is tearing off his coat and jacket and diving in headfirst.

The cold knocks all sense of direction from him for a moment and his mind whirls to remember which way John was – he can’t see anything, can’t hear, can only feel, and that’s fading fast. His heart is still in his chest. Maybe its stopped. Sherlock doesn’t care. He tears and claws at the water until his hands land on fabric, on skin, and then he’s wrapping his arms around a strong chest and hauling up, up, up.

He’s heavy. Waterlogged. Limp. Sherlock is dimly surprised at his own strength for a split second. His head breaks the surface and he sucks in air and with every ounce of anything left in him he pushes John up onto the rocks and crawls up after him.

“John…”

He cups John’s face in his hand. Skin too cold.

“John.”

Lips blue. Not breathing.

“John!”

And now Sherlock’s heart explodes in panic.

He strips John’s jacket open and presses down on his chest, hard.

“Come on, John…”

He counts the compressions with each of his own gasping breaths. One, two, three, up to thirty, and John’s still not breathing.

“No, no, John, no no no no no no…”

Sherlock touches his lips to John’s for the first time.

“Please, John, please…” he whimpers.

Chest compressions again, thirty beats, with steady hands, and another breath into his lungs that feels like a dagger in Sherlock’s heart because this is all wrong, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was supposed when they were safe, when they were finally home, when they were warm and together and John had had a chance to say it back…

“John, John, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this, please please oh God please…”

He can’t feel the crack in his voice or the tears dripping down onto John’s already-soaked skin, but he can feel the chill creeping up in his throat, ready to strangle him.

“Don’t go,” he whispers between John’s lips. “Please, don’t go, don’t leave me here.” His hands pound frantically on John’s chest. He can’t feel his heartbeat. “Please don’t die, please please don’t die, I love you, I love you, John, I love you, I love you, don’t go, please don’t go, I love you…”

Sherlock’s hands cradle John’s face, and he bends to kiss him properly.

“I love you.”

Three words, bursting in a sob from his frail lungs into John’s.

Suddenly he seizes under Sherlock’s hands. Spine arching. Pale skin stretching and furrowing.

Water splashes Sherlock’s lips.

John coughs and shudders, and Sherlock breaks himself out of his frozen shock and pulls him to roll over. He gasps and moans, nearly retches, empties his lungs, and breathes.

Tears spill afresh from Sherlock’s eyes.

“John?” he barely gasps, a hand on his shaking shoulders.

John convulses once more, then steadies, pulling in deep, uneven breaths.

“This isn’t…” John wheezes, and his hands are still trembling, but his eyes find Sherlock’s in the darkness, and somehow they still manage to shine. “This isn’t how I imagined you kissing me.”

And there’s a joy in his half-drowned face that makes Sherlock stop shivering as a half-laugh, half-sob bursts from his throat.

He can’t tell who moves first, because all that matters is that the next moment he’s holding John against his chest, gripping desperately at his soaked jacket as John buries his face in Sherlock’s neck.

“I love you,” Sherlock whispers again, because he’s said it now and he’s said it finally and he never wants to stop. “I’ve always loved you.”

It’s all he can hear, whispered back to him against his trembling lips, a chorus of I love you I love you I love you as John kisses him like he was always meant to.  


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Unpopular opinion: 2016 was actually an incredible year to me, so many cool things happened!! I’ve become independent, I learned and experienced tons of things, I’ve overcome my problems and finally I achieved what I’ve wanted for so long: I am truly happy with who I am as a person! I learned how to be happy and how to stay happy, I learned what’s important and to what extent. I realised that everything is a choice and there are literally no limits!! I finally see that every minute spent on whining and crying under a blanket is a wasted minute!! There’s literally no point in being stuck in one place, life moves forward and so should I!! Every failure is a test of persistence and determination, the key is to never stop looking for solutions!!

tl;dr Bring it on 2017, I’m ready

9

-If I told you that earlier….. none of this would’ve happened….. right?

“I love you too” comic… (I’m not creative with names alright… *sniff*)

Guess who’s back with some… ermmm… kind of Poth comic I think….

Next…

Fell!Goth and Goth belongs to @nekophy

anonymous asked:

Hello! So I was at a party tonight, and this woman told me this great story about how she met her husband. She was the PR person for the local university. He was the sports editor for the local paper. He kept getting the school's mascot wrong in articles, and she would have to call him every time to correct it, growing increasingly frustrated every time. This was one of those moments when all I could think was LARRY AU, LARRY AU.

oh my god, thank you so much for sending me this message! It just made me so happy and I love it.  Like, I love these actually people you met and I love it as a larry au!!!!!! 

I feel like it works both ways so well for larry that I can’t even really pick one. example:

Louis as the university PR person, grumbling to Niall about the mistake the first time it happens.  Waving the sports sectionaround and stabbing a finger at the picture of their mascot at a basketball game.  “What the fuck!!! look at this photo of Ferdinand!?!!  Look at this caption!!! A hawk???? A hawk??” (they are the falcons) And then like, because in this version louis is immediately over-frustrated, instead of increasingly, he’d call up the paper in a big huff and then immediately be disarmed by Harry’s calm, deep voice and seal bark laugh once he finally got him on the phone.  Then he’d flirt-email him a link to an article about the differences between Hawks and Falcons as soon as he got off the phone, thrilling at his own daring as he did it! And after like the sixth time Harry got it wrong, they would go on a date and after they got married they’d always collected both stuffed hawks and stuffed falcons. 

oh my god how killer, because opposite way around, Harry the PR guy calling, he’d be immediately disarmed by Louis’s voice, too!!  Like all flustered, and then like he’d get blushy when louis teased him, but also tease back.  oh my god and then seven or eight calls in, Harry finally loses it and is like “you just don’t care about our sports teams because we’re not division one! Well, tough! you live in this city too, Louis, you should know our mascot is a turtledove by now god damn it!” and then louis would ask him out.  

i’m just smiling a lot.  like i can also imagine either of them as the sports editor, starting to get it wrong on purpose and feeling like “oh no, my journalistic integrity!” but also “i need to do this flirting very bad!!!!” 

okay sorry i rambled so much.