she remembered right


time to dance // panic! at the disco


HUMANS S02 E04 CLIP: odi + sophie.


Tom is your Tom problem.

  • David: Granny, can you pick up Neal from daycare? Hook and I have some important business to take care of that could take who knows how long, and Ashley has a strict 6 pm pick-up at her daycare.
  • Granny: Can't Emma do it?
  • David: She took Henry canoeing.
  • Granny: What about the nuns? Don't they usually watch the babies?
  • David: The nuns just let a baby get kidnapped to a hell dimension.
  • Granny: I feel like he's spent more time with Belle than with me. Can she get him?
  • David: It was her baby that got kidnapped. Seems insensitive to ask her to babysit.
  • Granny: Fine. I'll do it.
Saudade (1)

Bucky x Reader

Saudade: (n.) Portuguese for a melancholic nostalgia for someone or something from the past.

Summary: She’s willing to do anything to keep Bucky out of harm’s way, that’s why she’s so expendable, and expendability is dangerous.

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: swearing, violence, angst


Part 2 

Originally posted by ariesw1493

She fell off the train first.

She died, or she at least thinks she did.

She remembers hearing Bucky scream after her as he clung to the loose metal bar on the train. She remembers him fall off right after she did. His screams echoed off the mountain tops as they both plunged further and further to their deaths. She wanted to scream out to him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, but her voice was gone. Instead, it was filled with gut wrenching screams.

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Uh-oh. Manila folder time.


My take on the Kirkwall gang in Inquisition. (part 2)

But without being able to remember all the reasons why they weren’t together, lydia is able to just focus on her feelings, and feelings alone, for stiles.

And when she does get all those memories back of them together…of them laughing, fighting, crying, growing closer and closer, defending one another, studying, teasing scott, helping malia, working together to figure out what’s happening in beacon hills this time, and saving not just their friends, but saving each other…

Once she remembers that stiles was right there by her side through all those memories, it will only validate what she’s always known.

Which is that she loves him and has always loved him and will continue to love him, and there won’t be a day that goes by where she won’t risk her life to save his, where she won’t remind him just how much he matters just how IMPORTANT he is, to not just her but to everyone who is lucky enough to know him.

& that is the type of love that can withstand even the greatest trials in life and still come out stronger. that is stiles & lydia.

We were Gods - Chapter 3

Lost in the Woods; a song about Artemis

The day she goes mad-
All right.

She remembers she liked to hold Apollo’s hand; little clumsy fingers solid intertwined with her own delicate ones.
People tend to forget that they’re twins, separable only by gender.
She remembers all the times they’ve curled around each other with her head tucked under Apollo’s chin and his hands caressing the soft fabric of her cotton shirt.

“They’re one,“ her mother used to say and “They know each other’s soul.“

Sometimes they communicated in words and gestures only, almost as if they had their own special language.

Apollo said sun and she said moon.
Apollo said Hamlet and she answered why Shakespeare when we can watch a mother tear her son apart every day.
Eventually Apollo said hunt and she said death.

She never answered after that again.

She should have known, that some things were not meant to be.

There’s a fist fight going on at the schoolyard. Artemis knows it, before she sees it. Sometimes she feels as if something pulls her magically, an invisible thread she can’t cut. It’s Apollo, of course.

Asterion pulls her brother off the tangled pile of limbs and hands and fists.
Bruised lips, heaving chest, solar flares in his eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with your brother?”
Someone shouts at her. It’s Hermes.

She turns her head in slow motion, soaks in all the little details around her - worried glances, Medusa’s wild hair, Ariadne’s hand on Asterion’s shoulder - her eyes rest on Apollo’s face.
He’s troubled. Mad. Wild.

She doesn’t know.
She doesn’t know.

Artemis is a wildfire.

She’s a force of nature and she burns and singes and blazes.
There’s gasoline in her veins and smoke in her lungs.
A heart of a flame, ash on her skin, smile sharp and cutting.

Touch her and you’ll burn.

Fire, has always been her element.

After all, in order to rise, a phoenix always has to emerge from its own ashes.

Sometimes she walks through the woods alone to breathe free.

There’s something utterly serene about yellow burned sun rays that try to cast their hazy blurs through the thick canopy of reddish leaves.

Sometimes she screams.

No one stops her after all.

The day she goes mad-
This mission has been complicated.

It should have been a standard kill job, but the target had been slippery and surprisingly well trained.

Artemis sighs.

The mission has been clear: kill.

But Artemis watches the soft dark curls that fall into Callisto’s eyes, how the girl brushes the single strand behind her ear and bites down on the soft pink cushion of her underlip in concentration.

Artemis is poised and, if she wants to, she could take the shot. She has done it before, to other girls, other men in other cities. A bullet in the head, a knife between the ribs and the girl would just be another body in the river, floating out with the tide.

The finger around the trigger twitches - Callisto turns around, chest heaving, eyelashes fluttering shut.

The mission resets abruptly. Objective kill: override. New mission: protect.

“Technically it wasn’t on fire,” Apollo says and pushes the metallic, shiny lighter back into his jeans pocket. Artemis snorts and watches the flames soaring around the building.

She turns around abruptly, tugging a sleek Walther PPK between the rim of her jeans and her back; the metal cools her skin in an instant and she takes a deep breath.

When she turns around, Apollo still looks at her, his smile razor sharp with cutting edges.

“Of course it wasn’t on fire”, she says and opens the door to her car, “You completely blew it up.”

He doesn’t deny it, but takes his place in the passenger seat.

At times it feels as if her head would split in two.
Constantly torn between how people want her to be and trying to figure out who she wants to be.
She wants to kiss boys and make them cry.
She wants to kiss girls and make them love her.
She wants to love brutal and fierce, yet vulnerable and easy.
She wants to climb and hunt and run wild and free and get into fights.

She simply wants.

Sometimes, that’s already too much.

The Day she goes mad -
she can’t pull the trigger.

She wears a black, well-worn leather jacket that makes her shoulder look broader than intended, her hips narrow and slim; the bright, shiny Rouge Allure lipstick from Chanel on her full lips glistens in the sun. She drags a row of perfect white teeth over it but it doesn’t smudge.

Orion leaves the gas station with a packet of Wrigley’s Extra chewing gum and a bottle of coke. His jaws are chewing fast and hard and she observes the way his muscles work, how his throat glistens in the sun from a fine layer of sweat that reflects the bright sunlight.

“Should we let him know we’re on him?” Her brother asks bored from the side, his feet dangling from the hood of her black, shiny Volkswagen GTI. A cigarette dangles between his lips and Artemis observes the way the red glimmer in the ash flashes bright vermillion before it dies back to crimson again. The ash rains down on the sandy road.

“Now”, she finally breathes and turns around, the weapon steady between her delicate fingers, “Where’s the fun in that?”


i finished Proxy by Alex London (and i’m halfway through Guardian) and i love it i love it i love it i love the characters and the plot anD I NEED TO SHARE SOMETHING SO HERE YOU HAVE QUICK AND SLOPPY SYD AND KNOX DOODLES

gotta love them


The last time Mary McDonnell was kissed onscreen was 2009. 6 YEARS AGO.

At this point, I don’t care WhoTF she kisses as long as it happens. Pass it on.