they are the most beautiful people i have ever seen

7

🌟THE GOLDEN THREAD TAROT🌟

I’ve only just been able to tear myself away from these beautiful cards in order to make this post. They arrived this morning and ever since, I’ve just been handling them and taking endless photos. I swear, it’s impossible to take a bad picture of this deck! 

Some thoughts and first impressions bellow the cut! 

Keep reading

friendly reminder that mor, THE morrigan from the war, a dreamer born into the court of nightmares, a queen who bows to no one, THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE… has brown eyes. 

May I present to you: Jensen “I Hate Cats” Ackles and Misha “My True Form Is an *Actual* Cat” Collins

So I’m reposting this image on my art blog because it’s buried on a blog I no longer use, and this image deserves to see the light of the sun again.

This was from Chicon 2015.  There’s a pretty funny story that goes with it.

My friend and I came up with the idea to ask them to wear cat ears.

(Here I am, trying to push the blame off on her… let’s be real: this was MY idea.)

Anyway, we giggled at the thought of asking them to wear the cat ears and play with a ball of yarn because, I guess, we’re bad people? It was funny talking about it. It was funny planning it. 

But then, when you’re standing in line holding two headbands with cat ears clipped to them and clutching a tangled ball of yarn and slowly approaching two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, it maybe doesn’t sound as funny anymore.  Because you’re going to have to look these men, who you are suddenly TERRIFIED of, right in their BEAUTIFUL GODDAMN EYES and ask them to do something VERY silly.

My friend and I planned our strategy while waiting in line. Everyone says that the photo ops go SO FUCKING FAST. Well, they’re not lying. We knew we wouldn’t have a ton of time to explain what we wanted them to do. My friend asked me if we were actually going to do this. It wasn’t too late for us to take our own ears off and stash the pairs we brought for Jensen and Misha and just ask for  hug instead. But no, I had bought those damn rainbow cat ears, and I had this image in my head, and I was all in at that point. We agreed that she would hold Jensen’s pair and go straight to him and explain, and I would hold Misha’s pair and the yarn, and do the same for him.

It was finally our turn. I made a beeline for Misha, holding out the ears in offering. His eyes zeroed in on the headband and he gave a bemused smile.

“CanyoupleaseputtheseonMishapleasethankyou!” I managed to squeak out. Misha smiled and took the headband and put it on, and the moment those ears touched his head he got this haughty little look on his face. His back arched just a little bit.  I swear, in that moment, that man became a fucking cat. He somehow just casually embodied the collective universal feline energy, and it was instantaneous.

I glanced over at my friend, and she’d clearly asked Jensen the same thing, because he took the headband, and with the BIGGEST, MOST EXAGGERATED long-suffering sigh and a massive eye roll, he put the ears on his head. He looked fucking adorable. And grumpy. He literally WAS a grumpy cat.

We moved in to pose, and I remembered the yarn. I held it out at them, babbling something like, “Canyouguys, justlike,  playwiththeyarntogetherTHANKYOUSO MUCHOHGODOHGODOHGOD”. Misha grabbed the yarn and held it out to Jensen, who gave another eye roll.  I stepped back, unable to do anything other than SQEE internally. And then…click. It was done.

They took their headbands off and handed them back to us. Misha fussed with his hair.  Jensen was actually smiling, but in a very sassy, y’all are weird and I don’t understand you and I think there is actually something wrong with you kind of way. My friend and I thanked them profusely, and we started walking away, dazed and euphoric.

We must have gotten about five feet away when we both heard Jensen call out, “I FUCKING HATE CATS!” We looked over our shoulders, and Jensen and Misha cracking up was the last thing we saw as we were ushered out of the room.

………..

So yeah. That’s the story of how Misha is apparently an avatar of sacred feline grace, and Jensen just really fucking hates cats.

And now this image exists.

You’re welcome, internet.

……………

Also, I’ve recently started using this as a meme background for my “Quotes Without Context” on my meme page.

The quote that inspired me to use this image?

“I’d rather be watching the news with my cat.”

If anyone is interested in were I got the ears, they were purchased from PricelessCompanions on Etsy. They are awesome.

RP starters: Flirting ( + responses to it. )
  • “You come here often?”
  • “Can I offer you a drink?”
  • “So.. You expecting someone?”
  • “Do you need a place to stay for tonight?”
  • “I gotta tell you… you look incredibly hot.”
  • “Do you want to dance with me?”
  • “Look at us… we are basically a couple already.”
  • “I bet you would look even better without your clothes on.”
  • “Are you single? Just asking.”
  • “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever encountered.”
  • “What would you say if you and me would go somewhere else?”
  • “I love the way you’re dressed.”
  • “Do I have any chances with you?”
  • “Do you have anything better to do later?”
  • “Can I get your phone number?”
  • “You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type.”
  • “I can do whatever you want, babe.”
  • “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.”
  • “I bet guys/gals/people are all over you.”
  • “You should be a model.”
  • "Are you… trying to flirt with me?”
  • “Maybe if I get a free drink I can consider talking to you.”
  • “That won’t work. Try again.”
  • "Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?”
  • "I’m waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile.”
  • “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
  • “I thought you were taken.”
  • “So, have you flirted with every girl/boy/one in this bar yet?”
  • “Do I look like someone who seems interested in you?”
  • “Compliments won’t pay my drinks.”
Truth is, I just want you to need me, to want me. And I know that everyone says you have to be independent, and you have to be fine on your own before you can let yourself rely on someone. But it’s late and my chest feels heavy and your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I think I’ve ever seen and even if it was only for tonight, only for right now, I think being in your arms would make it all hurt a little less.
—  people need people // An Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #22
why you should watch still star-crossed
  • it’s basically a show that continues the story of shakespeare’s romeo&juliet
  • so if you like shakespeare, you’ll pretty much adore this
  • the aesthetic!! boi, i swear, i’ve never seen something prettier than this tv show in a long time
  • this inclused the shots, the cinematography, the costumes and settings! all beautiful
  • great soundtrack too!! which all leads to the dreamiest, fairest, most authentic vibe ever
  • a diverse cast!! black people and white people filling up both positions of power and of servants! —>historical accuracy!!! 
  • so if you like period tv shows, again, this one is for you
  • you like fight scenes? plenty of fight scenes!!
  • you like romance? we have that too!!! 
  • you like political plots? checked. morally ambiguous character? yep. beautiful actors? oh dear, of course
  • greatly fleshed out characters!!
  • strong females that want freedom from patriarchal values, females that just want to be married, females that want power, peace!! and they’re all great and amazing in their own way!!
  • antagonists with actual background and reasoning, while not being apologetic and not having their deeds excused!!! 
  • if you like shonda rhimes shows (grey’s, scandal, how to get away with murder) i’m pretty sure you’ll like this one too
  • please please please do not let this show die!!! !!!
Cure (intro)

Bucky Barnes x reader 

Notes: trigger warnings! Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, swearing, injuries, memory loss, recuperating, fluff, angst and obviously, eventually: smut. 

Summary: Bucky comes back from a mission, not remembering who he is or who anyone else is. He doesn’t remember Steve, Natasha or the woman he loves. She does immediately catch his eye, though. He thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he’s not afraid to say it in front of people he doesn’t know anyway. What does he have to lose? As far as he knows, he has nothing. On top of being somewhere he doesn’t remember ever being and being stared at by people who seem to know him, but he doesn’t know in return, he hears a voice in his own head. Because, of course, he must be insane. 

A/N: Here we are! The sequel series to Remedy :) I was gonna go somewhere else with this, but it kinda hit me out of nowhere and I thought this could be as sweet and cute as it could be heartbreaking and funny at the same time. Get ready for some awkward situations (and boners), people! 

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

There’s a woman standing in front of me. She looks sad, scared; but still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She says ‘Bucky’, and I can’t help but think that I’ve heard that before, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where I am, but I feel no threat, not from the man in the blue combat-suit next to me, not from the red head that’s next to him, holding his hand and looking equally sad as the woman before me. Not even from the man with the glasses and a doctor’s coat on my left. They all look at me as if they know me, and.. like me? They look nice enough, I guess. But I can’t help but stare at the woman standing only a feet away from me, tears in her eyes. She looks so sad.

Keep reading

so i played skyrim tonight, and i thought i’d tell an important story about my journeys:

i was mostly wandering around minding my own business when i came upon whiterun stables and guys - listen. i found the most beautiful perfect horse i’d ever seen. majestic, beautiful, immaculate. i had to have him. so i figured - hey, i took long enough getting here, it’s the middle of the night, no one’s gonna see if i take this horse, right?

this was my first mistake.

so i hop on the horse. i press the big glaring red STEAL button and get my ass on the horse. perfect. 50 bounty from whiterun - well, no plan is ever perfect. and we start walking along - and who runs up to me, but a whiterun guard. “you have committed crimes against skyrim and her people” - he’s very upset. well holy shit! i didn’t think anyone saw me, but you know what, good sir, here, i’ll pay the fine -

“we’ll take your stolen goods, and - “

no. this simply won’t do. i come out of the keep, scheming. i must acquire my horse again.

so i go back to the stables, steal the horse again. it’s the same horse, of course it is, because he’s flawless and gallant and waited for me.

but then - again - the guard, crimes against skyrim and her people - well you know what sir, a cat-man’s pride for his perfect and beautiful horse is not a crime. so i hop off my perfect horse, and get my Destruction ready. i’m going to give this guard what-for. of course, in the process, i accumulate 1000 bounty from whiterun.

well, fuck. this, probably, could be considered mistake number two. i get on the horse again. +50 bounty from whiterun, but in the face of killing that guard, honestly, who’s going to notice one stolen horse? i press the big red STEAL button again.

“alright, RED STEEL,” i tell the horse, “from now on, you and i are fugitives.”

RED STEEL, noble and awe-inspiring steed, and i walk for a very, very, very long time. we can never go back. but - you guys, i found out something else about RED STEEL that made it all worth it:

well, of course. he can fly. my incredible, unkillable, righteous RED STEEL.

look at him, as majestic and all-powerful and graceful as i always knew him to be.

so - did i commit crimes against skyrim and her people? yes. yes, i did. but in doing so, i made an unforgettable friend, and a powerful ally. so was it worth it?

i’ll let you be the judge.

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 3

A/N: This sort of ends abruptly, but if I didn’t end it here the imagine would have been extremely long so I’ll be posting part 4 within the next three days x 

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


Three months after Harry called off his relationship with Y/n, it was his birthday, and just like every other year for the past five, the boys decided to spend his birthday weekend at Louis’ family lake house. It was one of the few times a year they’d go- only saved for special occasions. It’s secluded, far from the city, but close enough so that it’s not too much out of their way.

Their tradition when it comes to Harry’s birthday weekend has remained the same for years now. A bonfire, a couple of poker games, countless amounts of beer, and occasional midnight skinny dipping. However, this year, the only change in tradition is Y/n not being there.

The second Harry steps foot out of his car, the whole idea of spending his birthday without Y/n makes him feel sick to his stomach. This was their favorite place to be together. They didn’t know why, but something about the privacy and the exclusiveness of it enhanced their relationship in unimaginable ways. They have had many occasions where they would flee from London without a word and spend a couple days alone here. 

The guys scurry out of the car in excitement, absolutely stoked to be back in the grand Tomlinson lake house. Harry sighs, slamming his car door shut before half-heartedly making his way inside.

He can’t blame their excitement when it came to the celebration weekend, however, they hadn’t seemed to notice how off Harry became the first couple of hours upon their arrival. But what else did he expect? He didn’t tell them, he didn’t tell them any of it. He didn’t want to. He knew they knew, anyways, but he had constantly beat himself up, blaming himself for destroying the one thing in his life he felt was genuinely worth fighting for. If he had told them what he did, he would never hear the end of it. He didn’t need anyone else to remind him of how much he had fucked up.

But ever since Y/n had left, something in him changed. He had no desire to fight anymore. Three days after he broke it off, he was worse than ever. Getting himself into numerous fights multiple times a day. It was his way of coping the loss of her, the loss of his only true humanity. However, when the fourth day came, and Harry started to really understand the fact that he was never going to see Y/n again, was when the pain really set in. He felt himself suffocating in a horrendous amount of guilt. 

She had tried so hard, she pushed him harder than anybody else had. Nobody put as much faith in him as she had. She stayed with him in times he truly didn’t deserve it. Hell, there were even days where she was so mad at him that all she could do was yell and yell and yell, and even then she still slept in the same bed as him. He couldn’t live with letting all of that go- letting her go- so he decided to prove himself wrong

It was the biggest fight of his life, the one against himself; when half of him wanted to inflict his pain onto other people and the other half wanting desperately to change himself for the sake of his relationship with Y/n. But he knew he was stronger than the monster inside of him, even though he believed he was weaker. What made him strong was Y/n’s relationship with him, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

It didn’t take Y/n more than a couple days to tell Zayn what had happened. He called her, asking what was going on since Harry had been a complete wreck with no sign of her in his life. She explained, in the best that she could between her harsh sobs and broken whimpers that Harry had left her. He broke up with her, tried to convince her that they didn’t belong together, and eventually confessed that he wasn’t willing to change for her. 

Y/n made him promise not to tell anybody else because she felt that this was Harry’s responsibility, not anybody else. Of course, Zayn kept his promise and never said a word about it to anyone. 

The rest of the guys tried to get it out of him, though. They never forced it, but occasionally mentioned her to see what he would say or do, but he just ignored them. The mention of her name killed him on the inside, and he, truthfully, still couldn’t face the reality that they aren’t together anymore.

To say the guys have been concerned for him is an understatement. Yeah, he’s stopped fighting, but he’s still not the same Harry he was when he was with Y/n. He’s constantly thinking, his mind always somewhere not where it’s supposed to be. He drinks more, too, which used to spike up his anger, but now only spikes up his sadness. He has no motivation to do anything besides stay in his house and dwell on the guilt he’s carried.

Getting him to the lake house is one of their ways of getting him to heal. They just don’t know how much this place kills him, though. God, he can’t even look at a single square inch of it without seeing her in his head. How the hell is he going to get through the weekend?

The boys begin to notice how hurt Harry is when he begins to prepare for the bonfire they planned on having later that night. This is Harry’s first birthday after his break up with Y/n, and instead of telling them how truly heartbreaking it was for him, he avoided that topic of conversation completely. He was already depressed enough, he didn’t need to bury himself in it on his own birthday.

While Harry sets up the firewood needed for the bonfire, he’s distant. He’s distracted, not consuming himself in any of the boys’ conversations. They know Y/n’s already on his mind, she’s the only one who gets him daydreaming.

Harry sighs, lifting heavy piles of wood and constructing them into a setup for later. He’s finished now, has been finished for a while, but he just can’t stop. All he can think about is how Y/n isn’t with him, how she’s probably in her new home, sulking, hating him for ruining her life. It’s his birthday, and she probably hates him.

He sighs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward, eyes trained on the ground. He just can’t get her out of his head, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, almost every waking moment he’s thinking about the first time they met.


They were at a party Zayn’s aunt decided to host. It was a casual-formal event, just something special for her close friends to feel welcomed to upon their return to London after being in the states for a while.

Zayn was, obviously, invited. His aunt even insisted on him bringing his best friends, which he probably would have done anyways because he wasn’t too familiar with the family the party was for. The only member he’s ever really talked to was Y/n. She was super shy, very introverted, but was extremely sweet nonetheless. She had talked to Zayn a couple times when they stayed at his aunt’s house simultaneously. Other than that, they didn’t talk much.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna stand in the corner all night?” Zayn approached Harry, a glass of vodka held loosely in his hands.

Harry was pissed he was even in the situation he was in. Social events weren’t his thing, never something he found entertaining. He didn’t care about this stupid family’s return, he didn’t even know them.

“This is the last goddam place I want to be right now” Harry seethed, “I’m pissed off at you for even fucking forcing me here, don’t force me to try and mingle too.”

He let out a slight grumble in Zayn’s direction before making his way to the mini bar. On his way, in the midst of his aggravation, he felt a body collide with his. He groaned, a slight growl in the mix, definitely not in any mood for people to get in his way.

“Watch where you’re-“

“Oh, sorry” the girl gasped, “didn’t see you there.”

Harry’s body immediately froze at the sight of her. She was the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. Her eyes were sparkling with sorrow, lips parted slightly due to the impact. Her outfit complimented her body shape beautifully, leaving him absolutely speechless.

“I- It’s okay” he stuttered, eyes never leaving her, “are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, completely captivated by the most handsome man standing in front of her. God, how he was so beautiful, she would have never known a man like this could ever exist in this world.

“I’m okay” she softly spoke, “thank you.”

Harry insisted on buying her a drink as a way to apologize for not exactly paying attention to where he was going. They chatted for a while, mainly about the party. Come to find out, she was the daughter of Zayn’s aunt’s friends. She hadn’t gone to the states with them, however, she didn’t really make too much of an effort to go and see her in her stay in London.

They were talking quite well, considering Harry definitely did give her an attitude at times and somehow made her feel extremely intimidated whenever he did so. But he had to admit, it was one of the best conversations he’s had in a while, despite his unfriendly character.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry finally asked.

She blushed slightly.

“I’m Y/n. And you?”

“Harry.”

“Oh, you’re Harry.” Y/n said quietly, a hint of realization in her tone of voice.

Harry didn’t like the way she said it, as if insulting him in a way. Which, for him, was a bit of a let down considering there was a moment where he genuinely believed she was different.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped, his voice somehow rougher and more raspy than how it was before, “Like you’re any better?“

His fierce stare upon her made Y/n feel belittled. When he spoke to her, he made her feel as if her existence was the dirt beneath his shoes. No wonder Zayn had warned her, no girl like Y/n could survive five minutes with such an intimidating man.

“Oh- um- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Zayn had told me to stay away from you.” She stuttered, her voice barely above a mumble.

She still refused to make eye contact with him, only for the sake of her safety. She was too afraid to look at him now, when his body seemed tense and eyes filled with aggression. She was an easy pray for people like him to feed on- to get a good kick out of.

“I should go” she muttered, “It was lovely to meet you.”

Almost too quickly, she grabbed her bag off the bar and began to make her way back to where she was before. However, before making it too far, she felt a hand grab ahold of her wrist.

He didn’t know why, but when he had seen the fear set in Y/n’s eyes, an overwhelming feeling of guilt set upon him. It was strange, to feel so much of it hit him over one girl’s reaction. He had done this many times to many people, all of which having a moment of complete vulnerability during his encounters with them. But they didn’t necessarily make him feel anything more than the slightest bit of regret.

“Hey” he whispered softly, delicately pulling her back to where he was standing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Y/n looked into his eyes as he spoke, giving her the reassurance she needed. He was genuine, she could tell, his eyes screamed sympathy.

“It’s oka-“

“But Zayn is right,” Harry continued, slowly letting her arm go “you should stay away from me.”

Before she had any time to react, he had walked away from her.

The rest of the night, Y/n was determined to speak to him again. After meeting him for the first time, she had an innumerable amount of questions she pressed Zayn to answer. Why is he always angry? Is he dangerous? But why was he so nice to me when I walked away?

Zayn explained that Harry wasn’t someone she should be concerned about. All he told her was that he had been hurt one too many times and it caused him to become violent towards those who threaten potential pain. He doesn’t apologize to anybody, and told her that it was quite strange how he had to her.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, that intrigued him so much. Besides the fact she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, she was so easy to talk with. She was quiet, and apart of him liked that about her. The moment he hurt her, he just felt so bad, like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Which is why he walked away from her.

When he saw Zayn later that night, he had asked about her. He asked how they had known each other, asked about her life and where she lived. He was determined to know more about her. It wasn’t even that he just wanted to, but it felt like he had to, like he was being compelled to feel this way toward her.

Right as he was about to leave the party, he had heard her voice behind him

“Harry?”

He slowly turned to look at her. She was looking as shy as ever, fingers fiddling together, cheeks blushed, eyes unsure. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she wanted to try.

“I want to get to know you.” She spoke softly, her hand reaching up to tuck some of her loose hair behind her ear.

He swore his heart melted. The second the words fell from her lips, he was willing to do whatever it took to get to know her.

“I know you said I should stay away from you, but I don’t want to.”


“Harry,” Zayn mumbles, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, “do you want to talk about it?”

Harry didn’t realize he was near tears until Zayn snapped him out of his trance. He didn’t look at them as he returns to placing the logs in piles, contemplating whether or not to disregard his statement or not. Of course he wants to talk about how much mental pain he’s in from not being with Y/n anymore, but he just can’t talk about it. They know that, too, because if he were ready, he would have already.

“Can you stop asking about her, please?” He groans, tossing the last piece of wood onto the top of the pile, “I know you guys know, so please, don’t make me say it.”

He doesn’t bother to look at them, instead, wiping off some of the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel before making his way inside the house to change out of his sweaty clothes. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he’s completely and utterly broken, if he has to be questioned about her again he swears he’ll actually become ill.

Half-heartedly making his way to the bedroom, Harry opens up the duffle bag that sits on top of the bed, that he has yet to unpack, searching through the folded clothes to find his plain gray t-shirt he plans on wearing for later that night. Slipping off his flannel and sliding off the now dirty white tank top underneath, he puts on the t-shirt, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry bin.

Once changed, Harry begins to unpack the remaining clothes out of his bag. His hands are shaking as he does so, breathing heavy when he sets his clothes down on the bed. His stomach twists with sick at the idea of sleeping in this goddamn room.

This was the first place they made love. It was within the first month of being with each other, filled with beautiful romance and bliss. It was the best night of his life. It was the first time he had touched someone so delicately before. The first time his violent hands spread love throughout her body. He said words he never thought he’d say again. Words that he actually fucking meant, words to express how his once cold heart felt warm for what felt like the first time in his life. 


It was her first visit to the lake house. She had just finished cleaning up the remaining dishes, insisting that even though she was the guest, she had to contribute to the clean up after having a barbecue. Harry was sitting by the kitchen table, just watching her, observing her as she hummed an unknown tune, her hair messily tied up on her head. He could hear the boys playing poker in the living room, which he would have played if Harry hadn’t already planned on taking Y/n out near the lake after she had finished cleaning up.

“Alright, Harry, all done.” she smiled, “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”

She made her way toward his sitting frame, taking a seat right on top of his lap. Combing her fingers through his hair, she planted a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose, making Harry’s face blush the color of roses. He reached his arms around her waist, nuzzling her body against his.

“Hm,” he hummed, kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder, “was gonna show you the lake, but almost considering just cuddling you all night long.”

Y/n smiled as Harry leaned in to press a hard kiss against her soft lips. She breathed out heavily, fingertips moving to caress his cheeks, his unshaved stubble scraping against their pads.

“Gross!” they heard Niall call from the living room, “I call the room farthest from yours!”

They both laughed, Harry rolling his eyes at the comment.

“As fantastic that sounds” Y/n smirked, raking her fingers on his back under his shirt, “this is my first time here, and it’s your birthday weekend. I want to explore it with you.”

She leaned down to quickly peck his chapped lips, which soon turned into a wild smirk. His green eyes looked into her brown ones, his fingers dancing along the nape of her neck.

“I can do that for you.”

Once they were by the lake, they sat in silence together. She was cuddled into him, sitting in between his legs, her head rolled back onto his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They admired the nature they were surrounded by, overwhelmed by the feeling of each other’s company under the moon. It felt like a dream, every bit of it did. It was such a surreal moment for them. They didn’t need to speak about anything for a while, being this close to each other, feeling each other’s bodies against one another was enough for them. They felt closer than ever.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. So much so that Y/n ended up on top of him. Her legs were straddling his waist, hands roaming under his shirt, nails scratching at his ribs. Harry had his hands all in her hair, as if trying to pull her closer to him, as if it were even possible.  Her lips traveled down to his neck, kissing every bit of the exposed skin. She just couldn’t get enough. They both couldn’t.

“Y/n.” Harry whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” She muttered against his skin.

“So in love with you.“

It was the first time it was said. They both knew they loved each other once they met. Hell, it was obvious. It didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyways. She said it like she meant it, too, like her heart was blooming as she spoke. God, he even felt her tears against his neck. She was so overwhelmed by their love, the words just slipped out in the moment, but oh how she meant them.

In that moment, he was a weak man. He completely surrendered himself to her love. He was willing for it to have all control over him. He made a promise to himself, to devote his life proving his love for her, proving that he will be the man she deserves in her life, not the man he had other people see.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, fingers gliding down her waist, “I’m so in love with you. I always will be.”

That night, once he had taken her to their room, they made love over and over and over again. It was their first time, opening up to each other in a completely different way than they usually did. His lips captured hers perfectly, his hands fit in hers as if they were, quite literally, made for each other. His name became a mantra, her body became a temple. It was an entirely new level of trust. It was a night that they could have re-lived every day for the rest of their lives, easily, with not a complaint in the world.



Fuck” Harry spits, reaching the back of his hand up to eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears threatening to spill.

He can’t sleep in here, there’s no way he could, not without Y/n. Not without her in his arms, not without making love to her beforehand. His bed at home made him sick enough, but here? He just can’t fathom it.

He begins to shove the clothes he’s started to unpack back into his suitcase. He can’t stay in here another minute. He’ll lose his goddamn mind.

While zipping up his bag, he hears the front door open. Niall’s laugh fills the silence in the house upon his entrance, which gives Harry an idea on how to fix his sleeping situation without raiding the couch.

“Niall!” Harry yells, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Niall makes his way up the steps toward his voice.

“Yeah?!”

“We’re switching rooms!”

“Oh hell no!”

Niall goes into the room Harry’s in, his face strict and serious.

“You and Y/n have fucked on that bed way too many times. I don’t even think you washed the sheets last time you guys did it on there, either. Pretty sure this room has a permanent stench of sex because of you two.”

Harry’s jaw clenches. Normally, he’d have a rational conversation until he got his way, but he isn’t taking this situation lightly. So, instead, he grabs Niall’s wrist harshly, eyes narrowing down at him as he takes a threatening step closer to him.

Niall’s eyes widen as he looks up at him. Not even because a small part of him felt intimidated, but because this is the first time Harry has shown aggression toward anybody within the past couple of months. There is a chance the part he’s been hiding is becoming unleashed, but Niall knows it was easily set off by Harry’s many failed attempts to get Y/n out of his head.

“I don’t think you understand, Niall” Harry seethes, “I may have not laid my hands on anyone in months, but missing Y/n doesn’t only make me sad, it makes me dangerous. I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to be as far away from this room as possible. Now I will not tell you again, we are switching rooms.”

Niall rips his hand out of Harry’s grip, shaking it around a bit from the amount of pressure Harry was gripping it with.

“Alright, Jesus,” he groans, “but you better wash those fucking sheets. I refuse to sleep in a bed full of sex.“

Harry lets out a breath he was holding in, somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to be spending three nights in his own personal hell. 

Adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, Harry slowly nods as he continues to look at Niall. He feels bad for treating him in the way he just did, but the idea of becoming more hurt than he already was is something he wouldn’t be able to live with. 

“Yeah, yeah I will.” He mutters. “I’m sorry, by the way, for that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in this room for another second without losing my mind. I really can’t.”

Niall sighs, slowly reaching up to wrap his arms security around Harry. Being like his brother, he really has felt so bad for what he’s been going through. He can’t imagine the heartbreak, or how he’s even surviving the breakup as well as he has. 

Harry reaches his arms around Niall’s body, hugging him back.

“It’s okay, bud. I get it, you don’t have to apologize. I’ll even wash the sheets for you.”

Harry lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head briefly before detaching himself from Niall and making his way into his room.

Once settled, Harry makes his way down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and take some time to himself. If this weekend is going to haunt the living shit out of him, he might as well try to make himself relax the slightest bit.

With a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand, he opens the sliding door that leads to the porch. Leaning his body against the doorway, Harry admires the sun setting on the lake, watching as the wind moves the leaves in small dance.

For the first time since the breakup, he actually feels at peace.

“She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Liam asks, suddenly joining Harry on the porch as he sips on a bottle of beer, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry rolls his eyes, the accusation of her leaving him must have been the topic of all their conversations. Of course that’s what they thought, it must have been so convenient for them to think Y/n could live a great life without him while he would be a danger to the streets. That’s how much he needed her, but they never seemed to notice how much she needed him, not how Harry noticed.

“Why is everyone so convinced that if we were to ever break up, she’d be the one that called it off?” Harry snarls.

“I was the one who ended it.” He continues, “It wasn’t working out.”

He takes a swig from his beer, eyes still trained on the view of the lake. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation, doesn’t want to relive the night that tore his life apart. Most of all, he doesn’t want to talk about it here, at this stupid fucking lake house, and have to dwell on the pain he wishes he could erase. He doesn’t want to be reminded that he was the one who did this to them.

“C’mon,” Liam sighs, “she was the only thing you had. She was the only one to get this Harry back. You were just afraid she’d leave you first.”

Harry decides not to answer, not knowing how to respond. Of course that’s why he ended it, that’s how he operates. He pushes those away just so that nobody pushes him away. He could deal with anybody else doing it, but if Y/n had left him first, there was no way he’d ever make it through that. Not a fiber in his body doubts that for even a second.

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Liam breaks the silence.

Harry looks down at his beer, circling it in his hands. Why does he keep asking him questions he clearly doesn’t want to answer?

“She said she never wanted to see me again.” Harry mumbles, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left.”

Jesus, Harry.” Liam whispers. “Are you okay?”

Something about that question makes something inside of Harry twist. Is he okay? How can he be okay? He hasn’t seen the love of his life, hasn’t talked to her, hasn’t even heard the sound of her breathing in months. Every part of his body hurts every time he thinks about her because the feeling of being away from her is the most painful feeling in the world.

His life was consumed by her love. His entire world changed when he met her. Nobody else could he lay his hands so sweetly on, could his voice speak so softly to, could his heart swell so greatly for. She changed him, even though he was too scared to admit it to her, she changed him. She gave him hope- gave him a reason to hold onto himself.

Since she’s left, in times when he’s at his all-time low, all he can think about is how his arms felt holding her, how his lips felt kissing her, how fucking relieving and beautiful it was to talk to her, and how he let all of that go.

How can he be okay?

Tears cloud his vision, his hands begin to shake. Oh, God. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over the emotions, he didn’t deserve them. He did this, he caused all this, this was his decision. Yet here he is, again, fighting back the tears that have been so desperate to be released.

“I mean” Harry begins, his voice shaking as he speaks, “I mean, I fucked up everything. I had everything I ever needed and I was the one who let it go. I was starting to think that her leaving me would be worse but now-”

He’s choking back sobs, face wet with unwelcomed tears, “now I can’t stop thinking about how much she hates me right now. She has a home without me, she lives her life without me, she is falling asleep at night without me. And the worst part is that she didn’t want it that way. That was all me, everything is because of me!”

Liam rushes to wrap his arms around him, pulling Harry’s head down onto his shoulder so that he has a place to cry. Harry’s holding him like it’s his ever last bit of hope, almost as if grasping for reassurance for his relationship with Y/n.

“Harry.” he whispers.

“Trust me, Liam, I didn’t want this, either” he continues, words scrambling out of his mouth, “but what else was I supposed to do? And now I’m at this stupid fucking lake house where we talked about getting married and she’s not here with me and I can’t do this anymore!”

He’s completely helpless now. His body is weak, shaking against Liam’s tense frame. He’s in so much pain, so much heartbreak that he’s almost screaming, begging God for some mercy because he can’t take this anymore. The constant thought of her, the constant reminder that he’s never going to see her again rips his heart out every second of every day.

“I just really don’t want to know what it’s like to live another day without her” his voice quivers, “I never do.”

Harry’s wet eyes meet Liam’s sympathetic ones. Liam opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t do this anymore. 

He pats Liam’s shoulder- thanking him for being by his side- before turning around to walk away. He slides the glass door open, walking inside the kitchen to replace his now empty bottle of beer with a new one.

“Wait,” Liam mumbles, “wait, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry stops in his place, slowly turning his body around to look at him. He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, seeming confused.

“Y/n- she’s- she’s coming here tonight.”  

Allow me to rant about Maggie and Sanvers

When we first meet Maggie, we learned three basic things about the character: she’s an out and proud lesbian, she’s a cocky little shit, she cares a lot about people. For a while, this is all we had to hold on to. Maggie’s layers were added painstakingly slowly, and you had to pay attention to see what they were. Looking back, the traits that made Maggie Sawyer the woman we love, were always there, we just didn’t know it.

Keep reading

Love Conquers All (On Sherlock Season 4)

I’m currently re-watching Season 4, simply just to indulge myself, and mainly because I personally loved it. I thought I was done expressing everything I have to say about the matter in this post, but there has been an unending sh*t-storm still looming over S4 that has gone beyond what I had expected. Not to mention that things I’ve seen on Twitter earlier regarding the so-called Norbury movement.

I am not dismissing the fact that this season had its flaws, but there’s a significant meaning to it all that some people are dismissing because they’ve been blinded by their own illusions that I would want to highlight. For someone who had cried over and mulled over these episodes more than the past 3 seasons, this season gave my love for existentialism a baseline that tugged at the heart – the very reason why I wanted to talk about it.

Originally posted by esterlocked

Just a brief explanation, existentialism is the belief that life has no meaning in general. To quote Moriarty, “Staying alive… So boring, isn’t it? It’s just… staying.” However, what I like about it is the idea that society or any other factor is not responsible for giving life it’s meaning – it is solely up to the individual to discover it on their own.

With that said, I think this is why this season resonated with me so much, and I find the chaos in some parts of the fandom frustrating, especially to the point that the writers are being attacked for this. So as usual, I have to say something about it. Because instead of writing articles for work, I’m thinking about Sherlock.

Anyway, I’m just gonna go ahead with my point.


The Six Thatchers : Horrors Of The Past

This may be my least favourite among the three, but the message of this episode is clearly simple: we all have horrors that will come and haunt us in the future – and how we face it all comes down to the path we choose. 

We live hundreds, and even thousands of roles throughout our lives. And we all have our past; things that we regret, hate, cringe at, miss, still believe in, etc. But whatever that past might be, what I got from TST is that you can never run from your past as it catches up to you, but it is one facet of your life does not completely define you.

Originally posted by akajustmerry

Death has been played with through the past seasons that it seemed all too mundane to us now, in terms of the context of the show. But S4 is here to correct this notion in Mary’s persona. With Mary saying that Mary Watson was the only life worth living, it showed that we get to choose which part of our lives we live out the most.

Same with John and his ‘cheating’. To be fair, I’m pissed at the fact that this was completely out of character. But when the series culminated, I understood why they have to do it. We saw what we wanted to see in these characters as they were presented to us – John was supposedly honourable, kind, and courageous, but what is this? Who is this new John? 

This is where I head to my next point. 


The Lying Detective : Being Alive And Human

This episode made me cry buckets, to be honest. And it is because this is all about changing what you know about these characters and seeing them all in a different light. 

Here we see a Sherlock not led by the mind but the heart, a John who was weak against temptation, a cheater, someone who looked jealous from having the spotlight all on the detective – it showed that no one is ultimately good and that someone’s facade is not who they entirely are. It shows that everyone has their ups and downs because that’s what humanity is about. It illustrated that everyone was capable of being angry, desperate, conceited, weak, lonely, alone, etc. It highlighted how these characters are broken – especially Sherlock – and how redemption can mean so much more to a person. 

We all have our flaws, our downfalls, our agonies; but who are we really, at our most vulnerable? And who are the people willing to believe in us even if we’ve shown them our true, and sometimes, faded colours?

Originally posted by halloawhatisthis

“Taking your own life. Interesting expression, taking it from who? Once it’s over, it’s not you who’ll miss it. Your own death is something that happens to everyone else. Your life is not your own, keep your hands off it.”

This is a plea. That shutting down and ending your life is and should never be the answer. This is one of the most beautiful pieces of dialogue I have ever heard, and it’s a very upfront message about warranting a value on your own life. And for people to threaten the writers of the show that they are the ones who caused the lives that are put in the line or the self-harm that will happen due to their distaste for TFP is devastating to me.

And yes, there have been people tweeting Mark and BBC that they are and will be responsible for these lives, which is just unfair.


The Final Problem : On Love And Redemption

I’ve seen people questioning why Benedict said ‘love conquers all’ in one interview before the season aired. There has also been statements that this season will be ‘groundbreaking’, which others failed to see why, leading to the claims that the showrunners are queerbaiting.

Now, every single show, every single actor, not just in Sherlock, but basically everywhere, is being put in the microscope because they need to identify with something, and that they need to represent a cause — which I get! I advocate for this! But, just when the world is being careful about mixing up their characters or when they are inserting a gay character just because now, society is demanding them to, Sherlock had already presented that years before (note that some TV shows only became more open to having gay characters around late 2014, early 2015-ish onwards because people are becoming more vocal about it as inspired by those bold enough to make a first move, e.g. Glee). 

Here, we have an openly gay character (which is still another topic of debate but I stand by it when I say Irene used the term gay loosely), had openly gay actors play brilliant and unstereotypical roles, and for God’s sake, Mark Gatiss is a gay man who is behind this brilliant show, and  that’s the very reason they passed it off as normal. They didn’t do it in a way that we always have to be reminded that the character is gay, that there has to be a sex scene just to prove that they’re gay… it’s just there – again, as one facet of the characters. Sex, as something that has been explicitly expressed in the show, isn’t the only thing that defines a character or their relationships with someone else, and I appreciated that. They had a story to tell – the story of these characters as a whole and not just one side of them. 

And personally, I did see why they made their claims as indicated by my chosen title. When this season ended, Sherlock who claimed to have never been attuned to his emotions, had his eyes open and had embraced that he was also human, flawed, and is capable to love IN ALL FORMS. 

Originally posted by fangirlhani

He learned to value his life because of what happened to Mary, he had admitted that he also succumbs to his impulses with Irene Adler (texting or beyond that, depends on what you want to believe), he fully realised that he would never ever want to hurt and make Molly feel like she’s being used by him because she’s his friend, he was able to extend a more human side of himself to John more than he did before, he finally understood and accepted Mycroft’s intentions and actions which I think mended their relationship significantly (this one hits me to the core so much), and lastly, he discovered that if he was left in the air in isolation, he might have ended up like Eurus, which is why he never wanted to make her feel alone again. 

To me, it is groundbreaking because it left that cliche of someone running off into the sunset in the end and it’s all butterflies and rainbows. They wrapped it up with the characters still broken, but living through it day by day because someone chose to love, accept, and help them heal despite their flaws. 

It is what it is, they keep on saying, because that’s how life is. It can be unbearable and it can most certainly be shit, but in the end, whether you ship Johnlock, Adlock, Sherlolly, Sheriarty, Mollstrade, Mystrade, etc., if we all let love – self-love, romantic love, familial love, platonic love – all kinds of love in our lives, it will help us conquer all, within and beyond this show. 

Soulmate AU #1 Charles Xavier

AU: Everyone has the first sentence their soul mate will say to them tattooed onto their body.

Originally posted by julee-art

Not my gif

Words: too many… 2357

Warnings: I didn’t proofread, like one swearword, fem!reader

A/N: I have come to the conclusion that there are by far not enough soulmate AUs with the x-men, so I decided to try my luck. I hope it’s not too bad lol enjoy! xoxo

“Hey, let’s get a coffee after this!”, Kim suggested, picking up a bunch of flyers and dropping them down a stairwell. You watched them sail to the ground one by one, feeling their flowing movements tickle your mind. “I can’t, I have a lecture.”

“Come on!”, she groaned and waving a You only live once flyer in front of your face. “You hate that class. And the professor and the book.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have to go.” Silence. “No offence, but how the hell are we even friends? Like, how have we become acquainted?”, Kim asked. “Opposites attract.” “Which is why your soul mate is going to be the most outgoing party person you have ever met!”, she said, leaning against the rail. “You should meet him half way. If he’s a party person, you will meet him at a party. Which means that you have to attend a party. Ideally the Christmas Festival tomorrow night.”

“If you want me to come, you could just ask.”, you replied and put the pile of books you were carrying onto the windowsill next to you. “You wouldn’t come.” “Well, I am here, helping you carry out invitations to some kind of drug convention.” “Good point.” “I know.”

Keep reading

one of the lines in ring of keys (in all of fun home, really) that makes me the most emotional is “it’s prob'ly conceited to say, but i think we’re alike in a certain way.”

like, you have this butch lesbian, with her crew cut and work boots and jeans, looking like the antithesis of what femininity was (and overwhelmingly still is) expected to be. most straight people likely would have been absolutely disgusted by it. and alison just thinks…that’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. she’s so absolutely stunned by this delivery woman that she thinks that feeling a similarity to her is vanity. straight people probably found her practically horrifying, but small alison just feels this wonderful, incredible, amazing connection to her that’s so strong she doesn’t care about what other people might think. she just feels so overjoyed to see herself in someone else that it’s like seeing an angel.

anyway, i love to cry.

The Preacher’s Daughter

Author: @stilinski-jpeg

A/N: This collab is so funny because I literally had this idea and Camile was like “I’m already writing one.” Nia and Camile strike again. This is going to be a series, so buckle up babes it’s going to be a hell of a ride. I have to thank @minhosmeanhoe (Camile) for pushing me to do this when my motivation was lacking and always being there for me when I get stuck. She also proofread and edited this because she’s literally the best. Okay, without further ado.

Paring: ReaderxMitchfuckingRapp

Warnings: Is it a stilinski-jpeg/minhosmeanhoe fic without smut?? Otherwise, no warnings.

Word Count: 4682

Camile’s version: here

Song: Good Kid by Former Vandal

Originally posted by dylanobrienbr

Keep reading

you know what? fuck anyone who says anything about pop singers and teenage girl culture. One Love Manchester was one of the most beautiful and moving events i’ve ever seen, organised by a young woman who just two weeks ago had been part a deeply traumatic incident and attended by even younger women and girls who’d suffered the same. Don’t say anything about pop music being meaningless, about teenage girls being shallow because that concert was so deeply moving and uplifting and showed the power of music and the strength of young people.

Ariana Grande is TWENTY THREE YEARS OLD and I have so much respect for her bravery tonight

I think about love on a scale from 1 to 10. Most of us find a 6 or 7, and that’s why we have divorce. It’s the truth. We settle for that 6 or 7. But I like to think Kevin is Chiron’s 10. He’s found that and he realizes that there’s no reason to settle for a 6 or a 7 because, ‘I know this person is my 10. Whether or not this person believes I’m his 10, I’m going to devote my life to this person entirely.’ That’s why the line where he says, 'You’re the only man that’s ever touched me,’ for me, was the most amazing, most beautiful thing I’ve seen in cinema, period. Because that’s what we strive for as people, to find that one person because they’re there. If Kevin doesn’t feel that they should be together, Chiron is just going to die a miserable person because that’s his person and he won’t settle for anything else. But I like to think they’re together, walking in Central Park hand-in-hand when they’re 90 years old.
—  Trevante Rhodes

The most important Voltron meta I’ve written:

Shiro: Dog person. Big friendly dogs are the best but there is no such thing as a bad dog. Bury him alive in puppies.

Lance: Dogs and cats are equally good, he will probably say he is more of a cat person because he doesn’t want to make Blue think she’s not his favorite.

Pidge: Dog person, full stop. Cats aren’t bad she’s just allergic to them.

Hunk: Will obstinately talk about lizards every time people bring up dogs vs. cats because he thinks reptiles need more love. Turtles and tortoises are his favorites.

Keith: complete cat person. No social interaction can drag him away from cats. I also feel like he is actually very good at getting along with cats. Has possibly never been scratched in his life, like a very selective Disney Princess.

Allura: Very confused by this whole thing, has to be introduced to Earth animals and the entire concept of dog people and cat people. She probably decides on “dog person” out of those options because she finds out about borzoi and they’re the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. In practice, though, she loves birds. Cockatoos and the big macaws especially.

Coran: See Allura, I have no idea how or why he would find out what they are but I feel like he would adamantly decide on horses as his favorite animal and refuse to choose anything about cats or dogs.

Ashes Pt 1 [M]

Genre: Angst, Smut, Vampure AU

Pairing: None, yet ;-) but there is some smut in this part. All 7 members will make an appearance throughout the series

Length: 5.8k

Originally posted by jengkook

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Final

You parked your car outside the academic building parking lot. You had gotten out of work early and planned on surprising Suho with a ride home from class. You turned off the engine. Resting your head against the seat of your car. Even though your shift was cut your body was exhausted. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a day off. Your co-workers knew you would never say no to covering a shift and it was starting to take a toll on your body.

You stepped outside of your car. Reaching your arms to the sky you stretched out your back. Your tender muscles enjoying the pull. The clanging of metal caused you to jump out of your skin. Looking around the parking lot, you couldn’t see anyone. You walked around your car to see if anyone was by the dumpsters but there was no one. The same noise repeated itself behind you.

You whipped around to see if someone was there, but once again it was no one. The parking lot was fully illuminated and your senses were now in overdrive. You ran to the other side of your car when you noticed them. Two people standing in front of the doors to the building. You felt uncomfortable witnessing their private moment. The two of them stood intertwined. Mouths moving at a rapid pace. You had a feeling in your gut that you shouldn’t be watching this, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away.

When the two of them parted you saw him. It was Suho. He was the one playing tonsil hockey with someone else. You could feel your heartbeat race as your yanked your car door open. Fumbling for the keys in your hand.

But before you could get into your car something as cold and strong as concreted slammed your body into the ground. The back of your head taking the impact. You could feel the blood spilling from the point of impact. But you couldn’t move. Something was holding you down. The last thing you saw was a shadow hovering over you, as your vision faded into black.

Keep reading