this is an old picture but hey

REMINDER: I do NOT advise anyone to post a picture of themselves or of their TC. Stay safe and stay a secret! I don’t have a TC anymore and I am an adult so it doesn’t matter if I post a picture of myself.

So the goal was to get to 50 notes for me to post a picture of myself and you guys did it!! So this is me. The creator of tccquotes. I have been a member of the TC Community for a little over 8 years now. I am now almost 21 years old.

I hope to be living proof that no matter how things turn out, life does go on.

Oh yeah, and if anybody recognizes me… hey.

5

Hey guys, I honestly can’t believe I’m in a position to make this kind of post but this is where we are.

This is an old friend of mine I knew growing up. That black and white photo is a picture of the two of us all the way back in kindergarten, happy as clams on our way to a girl scout meeting. When I knew her she was always very sweet and quiet, but also had the best sense of humor and was incredibly talented. We were good friends in grade school, and played basketball together later on in middle school. Later on, I was best friends with her neighbor as well. I haven’t seen her in years, despite attending the same college, but she is a huge part of who I was growing up.

Her name is Mary Carmen Nichols. She’s 19 years old and lives in Vestavia Hills, Alabama. She currently attends school in downtown Birmingham. Earlier this morning, her parents found her missing from her home. Both her cell phone and her car were still there. I’ve known her and her family for a very long time and they are all incredibly wonderful people. She would never just run away, not like this. If you have any information to offer, please please please call the number from the article.

Even if you don’t know her or you don’t live in the area, I’m begging you to please signal boost this. Please.

LOST PARAKEET

Hey guys, I found this posting on Craigslist and received permission from the owners to cross post this. 

If you or someone you know is in the Wichita, Kansas area, please be on the lookout for a lost parakeet.  12 year old “Charlie” escaped his travel box sometime yesterday (3/19) in the vicinity of Greenwich and Pawnee.  Coloring is gray with blue/pink chest and stomach (picture embedded)  No band. The wind yesterday was blowing south-southeast anywhere from 10 to 25 miles an hour, and today south-southeast at approximately 12 mph plus bursts.  Not sure where that would put him by now. 

Owners are distraught and offering 50 dollar reward but the bird is priceless to them.  His bondmate is extremely distressed, I was given permission to list the owners number for texting, so if anyone does happen to spot him, please notify Jay and Em at (316) 258-8193.  Please take a photograph, even if you can’t trap or coax him down, that will at least keep their hopes alive of getting him back.  Jay is disabled and Charlie is his therapeutic companion bird. 

If you don’t live near here, please reblog this in the hope of finding someone who is.  The desperation in Em’s messages is absolutely devastating, this bird is their precious baby.  If, like I do, you follow any fellow birblr you can get your hands on, you know there has been loss today.  Please help this couple hope there won’t be more.

So this magnificent person brought this picture to HousCon for j2 to sign: 

and shares the story of getting it signed here

‘…the volunteer called Clif…over to check it out. He said Jensen wishes he looked like that. I gave it to the handler and she starts giggling. Clif is waiting for Jensen to see it. She hands it to Jensen and he starts laughing. He says I wish I had guys who looked like that to wash my car. He signs it but keeps staring at it for like a minute and finally gives it back. 

I get in line for Jared….Jared’s handler who seems like a tough chick said ‘what the fuck!’ and then apologised and said Jared still kind of looks like that. She hands it to Jared and he’s like ‘oh my God’. Then he takes out his phone, scrolls through something and looks at the art again….Jared is comparing himself in a shirtless picture on his phone to a shirtless drawing of himself!!! He’s wondering why Jensen has the better abs. He signs it and tells me to draw him with more abs next time. I’m thinking ‘I didn’t draw it!’ but say ok I will!’

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! Someone else was at autos and witnessed this

‘I had seen [Jared] exclaiming over a girl’s art…From what I could see, I think there was a shirtless Dean. She left and we stepped forward. I was watching Jared, but somehow I looked up when all of a sudden here comes Jensen sauntering up to Jared’s table. Watching that man walk is a religious experience. Anyway, he came right up behind Jared and grabbed him in what looked like it was going to be a headlock, but turned into a really sweet hug with Jensen’s arm around his neck and his chin on his shoulder. Jared was in the middle of signing and didn’t really react, just smiled softly….Jared then said, ‘Hey! I just saw a picture of you with abs!’ Jensen…said ‘I haven’t had abs since 1992!’ and walked out the door. Jared said ‘yeah more like 19….30′ while looking at me since Jensen was already gone.’ 

THIS IS ALL PURE GOLD but that last bit in particular slakes my constant thirst for Jared calling Jensen an old man (’while looking at me’ etc I DIE). 

“hey gang wat is dis place”

“oh i kno let’s ask dat old lady over there”

“she looks safe ‘n’ perfectly normal an’ not at all like da widards from–

– dat game Magicka.”

“dis is totally unsuspicious, an’… wat?”

“why old lady do dat”

“OMG IT DA NO NOSE BAD GUY”

“WHO COULDA GUESSED SUCH A FATE WOULD BEFALL US”

By Way of Spontaneity (Part 9)

Summary: On a whim, Bucky declares you to be his girlfriend to his grandma and mother. They’re eager to meet you and he asks you to pretend to be with him for just one dinner with his family. But is that really all?

Word Count: 816

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A/N: INBOX IS HERE. I apologize.

Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark


Steve looked up from his laptop screen as Peggy came striding into the room, clad in only his dress shirt. He obviously ogled her and smiled when his eyes reached her toes and she wiggled them, toenails painted a vivid red.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, sitting down next to Steve and cuddling up to his side.

Steve gave a tiny shrug. “Enjoying our day off.”

Peggy scoffed. “By catching up on the latest gossip?”

“Hey, Facebook is quite the gossiper. I’ve found out remarkable things on this.”

Keep reading

2

hi im anushka and I lob dan and phil with my whole heart

Someone gave my mom an old photo album. I really wish they hadn’t…

by reddit user sleepyhollow_101

Every once in a while, something very interesting will come into my mom’s library.

We live in a small town, so people often go to the library for answers, knowing that my mother has an extensive background in researching things like history and genealogy. Those are the people we get most often, actually: people with questions about their own family history. Oftentimes they’ll come in with partial records and ask my mother to fill in the gaps. She’s always more than happy to do it. Not only is she good at it, but it also serves as an acceptable reprieve from the relative boredom of small-town life.

Keep reading

6

Hey guys! ^-^ 

For all you Dramione loving followers: I uploaded some new old pictures on Society6. ;) and there’s still some of my real old stuff as well. XD 

I realised I need to draw new Draco pics…. But I’ve got a surprise for you later on!     (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧

And! 20% off & free worldwide shipping on everything today! *0*

☆*・゜゚・*(^O^)/*・゜゚・*☆ MANY HUGS!!!!!

anonymous asked:

I’m the anon who requested the rainy day kisses and you totally delivered the goods. :D Thank you!! I hope it’s okay that I send in another request because I really enjoy your scenarios. ^^ For the chocobros: post-game happy AU where everyone has a family and the bro has a heart-to-heart with their teenaged kid (for this request: a daughter for Gladio & Iggy, son for Prompto & Noct) who asked the bro about the moment they knew their s/o was ‘the one’. Thanks!

NOCTIS

Noctis walked into the training arena, watching his son warping from one end of the room to the other. He stood by the doorway, watching as Ferox panted, dropping his dagger to the ground with his hands on his knees.

“Giving up already?” Noctis called, and Ferox rose to his full height. At thirteen, he was almost as tall as his dad, stretching his back and allowing it to crack loudly before loosening up his shoulders.

“Mom said I should take combat training more seriously.”

Noctis snorted. “Sounds like something she would say.”

Ferox tried warping a few more times under his father’s supervision, but eventually gave up, collapsing in a heap on the ground with his arms and legs splayed out like a drunken starfish.

“This is too hard,” Ferox groaned, pinching his eyes shut. “I don’t get why she’s being so strict with me about this warping thing.”

Noctis came to sit down beside his son, nudging him until he sat upright. “Your mother has been through a lot in her past. She’s lost a lot of people, had to make sacrifices to save others. Warping is something that only those tied to the King’s magic can do. She knows that mastering it will keep you safe in the long run, so trust her on that.”

Ferox leaned his elbow on his knee, propping his chin up with his fist. “Is that how you met?” he asked.

Noctis shoved him lightly with his shoulder. “Maybe.” He sighed, remembering the day. “We’d met on the road one day. Magitek troopers had invaded the outpost we were visiting, and me and the guys decided to try and fight them off. But we were tired, careless. It had been a really long day. But then your mother came swooped in and basically took them all down single-handedly.”

Ferox’s mouth gaped. “Woah.”

Noctis nodded. “Yep. I knew then and there, as the dust settled, that I was in love with her.” He patted his son’s knee. “Enough resting. Wanna try again?”

“I guess I should,” Ferox conceded, rising to his feet. “Do you think Mom’ll spar with me if I ask her?”

“Hey,” Noctis teased, grabbing a pair of wooden swords from a bin. “You too good to spar with your old man?”

“You just said Mom was a better fighter,” Ferox countered, and yelped as Noctis took a playful whack at his shin.


PROMPTO

Solis was lounging on the couch, flipping through old photo albums. He had found one that was labelled with pictures from a little over twenty years ago. He blew his unruly blond hair, a feature he’d gotten from his father, out of his eyes as he opened the pages and scanned over the images.

The photos in the album were varied. Some were of scenery, some were taken during combat (Why, Dad. That’s definitely not a smart thing to do), and there were quite a few selfies that made Solis chuckle.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” His father’s voice made him jump as Prompto sauntered into the room and plopped down next to his son.

“Just looking at old photos,” Solis shrugged, flipping to another page. “Oh, hey, look…it’s Mom.”

Solis saw his dad’s face soften as he looked at the photo of the two of you. It was one that Prompto hadn’t taken himself—it was a candid shot Noctis had snapped of you at the Vesperpool by the water. It was right around the time you’d met, and you were standing too close together to be just friends. Prompto thought back to that moment, and chuckled to himself.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” Solis mimicked, causing Prompto to burst into a fit of giggles. Even at sixteen, Solis was the spitting image of his father. Same hair colour, same lanky build. But he had your eyes and your smile, which were Prompto’s favourite features.

“Just thinking about the moment I knew I wanted to marry your mom.”

Solis scrunched up his nose. “Dad, I don’t know if I want to hear that story.”

“Guess who’s gonna hear it anyway?” Prompto tousled Solis’ hair, much to his chagrin.

“Dad! I’m not five anymore!” he whined, but settled into the couch to listen to his father’s story. “Go on.”

“Your mom suggested one morning that we go take photos of the catoblepas,” Prompto pointed to a different photo, one that illustrated the creature. “She insisted on getting up close and personal with them. She figured it’d be better for the picture. So I’m set up with my tripod and my camera about five or six feet away, and she’s holding these mushrooms to get them to come closer.”

Prompto mimed the set up with his hands, and Solis nodded along the way.

“I was ready to take the shot, and she was posing, looking all cute. But then the catoblepas got so close. I yelled to warn her, but when she turned, she reached out her hand and pet the damn thing. And it actually nuzzled into her palm. Can you believe it?” Prompto sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. “A legendary creature, yielding to your mother. What a lady.”

Solis turned the page of the album and found the photo of you cozying up to the catoblepas. “One thing’s for sure,” he decided. “You’re both nuts.” He paused. “But I’m glad you found each other.”


GLADIO

Gladio knocked on Acacia’s door. Having a teenage daughter was not easy, and having a teenage daughter in full mood swings was enough to want to make Gladio pull his hair out. It reminded him of Iris when she was younger.

A muffled voice rang out. “Come in.”

Gladio opened the door to his raven-haired daughter lying face down on her bed, not even attempting to greet her father as he took a seat by her desk.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Acacia peeked an eye at him. “Nothing.”

Gladio folded his arms over his chest. “Didn’t sound like nothing according to Mom.”

Acacia sat up, apparently triggered by whatever Gladio had said, irritation clear as day on her features. “She’s just so over protective!” she huffed, hands balling into fists. “I just wanted to go away for the weekend, and she won’t let me because she said she doesn’t know who else is going.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a decent enough reason to say no to me.”

Acacia groaned. “Not you too.”

He smirked at her, shaking his head. “Do you know the moment I realized your mom was the one?”

She blinked slowly. “I don’t see how this is relevant to what’s happening right now.”

Gladio continued. “When I was on the road with the guys, I met her. She was definitely too good for me. Way too smart, way too pretty. And for some reason, she gave me the time of day. After what happened in Lestallum and we lost Jared, she offered to stay and take care of Iris and Talcott until we got back.”

Acacia looked at her father expectantly.

“I knew then, when she decided to put her whole life on hold to make sure that my family stayed safe, the last remaining family I had, that she was it. She cared so much about these people that she barely knew, took them in like they were her own and kept them safe while the world fell apart around them. And now she’s trying to do that for you. She lost a lot of people in the ten years of darkness, sweetheart. Try and understand that she’s being protective of you because she doesn’t want to lose you, too.”

Acacia let out a sigh, slumping her shoulders. “I guess I owe Mom and apology.”

“Guess you do.”

She nodded and rose to her feet, slowly making her way to the door.

“If you want to go camping,” Gladio offered. “I’d be more than happy to take you.”

“Thanks Dad, but no,” Acacia replied, stepping into the hallway. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. Yeah, he thought to himself. Just like Iris.


IGNIS

It wasn’t often that Ignis and his daughter got to spend a great deal of time together because of his duties at the palace and her school schedule, but he relished the moments they did get to share. They often cooked together, concocting new recipes side by side.

“How come Mom doesn’t cook?” Aurora asked, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Is it because she can’t?”

“She’s not extraordinarily proficient, but she gets by,” Ignis stated, and Aurora marvelled at how skilled her father was with a knife even though he was blind. “Actually, it was our first evening in together when she decided to cook for me that I realized how much I loved her.”

“Aw! Dad!” Aurora gushed. “Tell me! I love these stories.”

Ignis chuckled and kept at the chopping.

“She’d planned this whole dinner for the two of us. She knew that I enjoyed the culinary arts, and wanted to give it a go herself. I told her that it wasn’t necessary to go through all the effort, but she informed me that I’d cooked for her on multiple occasions, so it was only fair.”

Ignis smiled to himself at the memory.

“She ended up burning everything.”

Aurora couldn’t help but laugh. “Dad! Why are you smiling? That’s terrible!”

Ignis could still smell the ruined dinner, the smoke coming from the oven and the shrill sound of the fire alarm beeping in the kitchen. He remembered the sound of your laugh, the sound of you swatting a broom at the alarm to get it to shut off, as it was just out of reach.

“She took such care to ensure that everything was perfect, but in the end, the meal being ruined hadn’t phased her spirit,” Ignis continued. “She ended up pulling out two servings of Cup Noodles, and we ate them together by candlelight.”

Aurora leaned her head against her father’s shoulder. “Dad, that’s so cute.”

“It was a special moment,” Ignis agreed. “I knew then that her resilience was something to be admired. I knew her before I was blind, as just a friend, and after I sustained my injury, she refused to leave my side. She’s always been more than I deserve, and she even gifted me with you.” Ignis reached out and wrapped an arm around Aurora’s shoulders, giving her a light squeeze.

“Love you, Dad,” she smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Ignis went to go stir a pot on the stove. “There is one thing you have in common with that night, come to think of it,” a mischievous lilt to his tone.

Aurora glanced over at Ignis. “Hm? What’s that?”

“Technically speaking, you were an accident as well.”

For a blind man, he was quite skilled at dodging flying spatulas.

Hey guys! I’m doing another giveaway, this time just for people who don’t own any furbies. :)

You could win the confetti furby baby pictured above! Here are the rules!

  1. You must not already own any electronic furby of any generation, new or old. Other furby merch is okay, but no legit furbies.
  2. Only reblogs count.
  3. You can reblog as many times as you want.
  4. No giveaway blogs.
  5. You do not have to be following me (although I would appreciate if you checked out my blog).
  6. Giveaway ends midnight, April 1st, 2017. Meaning the night the 1st starts. If you are chosen, you have 24 hours to respond. Please have your instant message system open so I can contact you. (If you don’t, I will try your ask box, but I’d prefer to talk over IM since it’s easier.)
  7. You must be willing to give me your address and a name so I can ship the furby to you.
  8. That’s it!

Hey everyone! Red Mod, Dragon Mod, Fluff Mod, Mod H, and Mod G are here with Klangst Week!

Thanks to @noririna for letting us use her art!

Dates and Prompts:

  1. March 24th - Unrequited Pining/Unrequited Love
  2. March 25th - Mistake/Faith
  3. March 26th - Hurt/Comfort
  4. March 27th - Death/Injury
  5. March 28th - Secrets/Betrayal
  6. March 29th - Voltron/Galra
  7. March 30th - Destiny/Choice
  8. Extra Day: March 31st - Alternate Universe/Free day 

Rules:

  • ABSOLUTELY NO REPOSTING OF ANY KIND IS ALLOWED
  • You can post fanfiction, traditional art, digital art, playlists, cosplay pictures, videos (AMVs, edits), and picture/gif edits! Everything you post must be new and not an old work.
  • Fics can be of any length! However, we do not accept chapters from ongoing multichapter fics, but we do accept new multichapter fics that are created with any of the prompts!
  • NSFW is allowed! We ask that it be tagged as such and any NSFW digital or traditional art be cropped with the full version being under a read more.
  • Non-con is not allowed, but we do allow dub-con
  • Please use the hashtag #klangstweek2017 in the first 5 tags on your post so that we can reblog it, or you can submit it to us!
  • You can also tag us @klangst-week on the post
  • Please give us one day to reblog your post, if we don’t by then, send us an ask and we’ll get right on it!
  • Late works will be accepted up to one week after the final day (March 31st)

If you have any other questions, please feel free to send an ask our way!

That should be all! Have fun breaking hearts everyone!

The Right Way

When John opens his eyes, everything is white and silent.

His first feeling is shock.
Shock over this surreal environment. The sand, the heat, the tanks and the death have disappeared. No screams and no helicopter sounds can be heard. Instead, quiet, friendly voices around him. Birds singing somewhere. Well, outside. Outside where the sun shines. Where there is a daily life. Around him is the smell of disinfectants and mild detergent.

John blinks at the bright light in the room. He realizes he’s in a bed. No narrow, hard cot. It is a large, soft bed. A thick pillow under his head. A blanket pulled up to his chin. It’s warm.

He also notes that he can hardly move. It’s like a heavy weight is pushing him down.
John grunts, and wiggles tentatively with his toes under the blanket. This works very well. But as he tries to lift his head, an unpleasant, throbbing pain passes through his shoulder. At the same time, it occurres to him that he has been shot.
Shot. In Afghanistan.

John lets his head sink back into the pillow and breathes in the cool air in the room.
I was shot …
Pictures before his eyes make him swallow.
Running soldiers, screams, shots, an explosion. A hand on his arm, a whisper, a groan as eyes close forever …
And then the sharp pain as the bullet pierces him. Pain, so much pain, he falls into the sand and he can hear his name. Someones shouting his name …
A moment later it’s all gone.

John knows he’s been taken to a hospital. For the initial treatment. And then. Home.

Home, meaning this hospital.

He sighs, and licks his dry lips. Thirst.
His gaze falls to the side of the wall, where a call button is.
He presses it.
A few minutes later, a young nurse comes into the room. She smiles the certain standard smile, which is so common in a hospital.
“Ah, Dr. Watson, you are awake. Very good. The doctor will want to see your wound soon. Do you need something?”
“Water,” John can only croak with difficulty. And he points his finger vaguely at the bed. “Could you … raise it please?”
“Yes, of course.” The nurse pushes a button on the bed and it slowly lifts. “I’ll bring you water.”
Then she is gone again.

John can see the room better now. And when he looks aside, he sees that he is not alone.
Next to him is another bed. And there is a man in it.
The face half hidden by an oxygen mask.
John can see thick, dark locks. And pale, almost white skin. He judges the man to be in his mid-thirties. He stares at the completely motionless body and swallows. Something is drawing him to this unknown man … something he can not explain. John notes that he is fascinated. Fascinated without really having a reason for it. He shakes his head slightly.

The nurse comes back with a mug and a water bottle.
She pours him water into the mug and John takes it with a still unsteady hand. He drinks, relieved.
Then he says softly, “Who is that?”
The nurse follows his gaze and says with a sad undertone, “Oh, this is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. He’s been here for a long time. Almost half a year. He’s in a coma.”
“Ah,” John says, swallowing. Half a year. That’s a long time. “How …?”
“How it happened? He overdosed on cocain. We … well, we can’t ask him, but we think it was a suicide attempt.” She gently shakes her head and takes the empty mug from John. “It’s really a shame. He never gets any visitors. Never. The thought that no one in the world is there for him … Who knows if he will ever wake up again. Perhaps there is simply nothing worth it for … Oye, I talk too much.” She seems a little embarrassed and clears her throat. “If you need anything, just call, ok? The doctor should be here any minute.”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The nurse leaves. John does not look away from the sleeping man in the other bed.

Half a year. No visit.
Jesus.

*
The days pass at a quiet, slow pace, which both soothes and disturbs John.
He is not used to it.
He almost expects to be suddenly torn from the calm routine by a shrill siren. Or suddenly lie back in the hot, bloody sand of the desert.
But of course it doesn’t happen.
Instead, he wakes up around 9 in the morning, receives his breakfast and is examined. The doctor is friendly and passive. Nodding pleased at the sight of John’s wound, while John himself stares at the hole in his shoulder with a growing nausea.
After that, he can only watch TV, or watch Sherlock being fed.
It’s hard to watch.
No reaction comes from the comatose man, when the nurses lift his limbs off the bed to wash him. Turn him to his side. Dress him again.
The motionless body doesn’t resist. It reminds John of a doll. He does not like this thought.
At noon, they bring John food again.
For Sherlock, of course, nothing comes. He is fed artificially.
In the evening, more food. And more TV.
A lot of rest. A little too much, John thinks once, and feels strangely guilty at the thought.
On the third day of this routine, he talks to Sherlock for the first time.
It’s because a James Bond movie is on.
John always liked James Bond.
And that’s what he says.
“This is a good movie. A really good movie. Lots of action. And the women are pretty, the men too,” he says aloud in the room. And laughs. There’s no answer. And he feels a little stupid.

*

After a while, John realizes that he will not get any visitors either.
It’s not really that surprising.
Harry is … well, he doesn’t even know where his sister lives. His mother is dead. And he does not want to see his father. Not that he thinks, his father would want to see him …
Once, he receives a call from the leader of his unit. From Afghanistan. He says something like, “it’s a shame” and “get back on your feet soon”. John doesn’t say much. He only murmurs “Yes, sir” now and then.
His hand is trembling as he holds the phone. A tremor. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up.
He doesn’t get any visitors. Just like Sherlock.
Only the nurses and the doctor enter the room.
“Here we are, huh?” John says to Sherlock while eating his bland soup. “We’re alone together here.”

And then the nightmares start. About the war. About death and pain. About men he could not save. Distorted faces in the dark. Eyes full of despair.
He wakes up in the middle of the night. Heavily breathing. Bathed in sweat.
He moans and sits up with difficulty. Runs a hand over his face.
He looks at Sherlock. Sherlock, who is, as always, motionless in bed. A part of his face lit from the machine that measures his heartbeat.
John swallows. He must … He feels the overwhelming desire to talk to someone. It needs to stop. He can not … Oh, hell, he has no one and it’s not like Sherlock would complain, right?
He clears his throat and begins.

“Well, uh, Sherlock. How do you feel? Um, I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry, haha, bad joke … I had a nightmare, which is quite obviously, right? Well, uhm, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I just talk a little. Yes. I’ll talk. So make yourself comfortable. Haha.
Sometimes I think I’ve gone the wrong way. I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. And the army … Well, it was just a whim. An idea that me and my friends had. One of them is dead, by the way. Mmh. I … it was not always bad. The training was exhausting though. Sometimes I thought I could not make it. My family was not much help either. My father is an asshole. There is no other word. My sister was thrown out. My mother died. It was all … a mess, you know? Anyway, I’ve been struggling. I wanted to do it. This one thing. And I did it. I’ve become a doctor. I went to Afghanistan and treated soldiers. I’ve seen things that would turn your stomach. Wounds that seemed like death sentences. I’ve looked into hopeless, desperate eyes. Sometimes I saved them. Sometimes I couldn’t.
And the faces of those I could not save, they haunt me now, you know? In my dreams. God. I’m so sorry. I really am … Do you see that? I’m crying. That hasn’t happened for a long time. It seems to make you sentimental when you get a bullet in your shoulder … " 

*

"Thank you for listening to me all the time, Sherlock. All this blabbering must be terrible. I thought about James today. Who that is? Well, good question. We were more than friends. But never more than … no idea. I kissed him. Well. In the desert, watching the sunset. Once. Just once. Do you think that is romantic? Shit, yes. Mabye it is. ”

*
“My middle name is Hamish. I hate it. I mean, who calls their child John Hamish? My father chose my name. There we have it again. This bastard. Hamish. I always avoid telling people that name. So, I guess that makes us mates? Hey, buddy, haha. No. That just sounds wrong. Sorry.”
*
"I can get up today. Great, huh? I feel like an old man. My damn shoulder, my trembling hand … a pretty sad picture I make, huh? ”

“It was not so bad. I mean, I for some reason I’m limping, quite badly, but the fresh air was great. I was down in the park. And imagine, a woman spoke to me. She’s called Mary. She said she’s working here. She is nice. And you know what, I asked her if we could go for a coffee. She said yes. Can I get a ‘well done’? No? All right. ”
*
“Do you know, that you’re pretty? Really, you are. I maybe would have asked you out, if I met you somewhere else before. Oh God, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I … Maybe I’m just afraid. Because … well. I’ll have to leave here soon, I guess. And I don’t know what to do then …”
*
“Well, that’s it. I … tomorrow I can go. I don’t know exactly where, but I can go. Mmh. I think I’m really scared. Mary said I should do therapy. No idea if that would help. I guess, I can try it. Maybe. Well, I’ll pack my things. You know … you really could wake up to say good-bye to me. It would be nice …”
*
“Surprise! Yes, here I am again. I … I missed you, Sherlock. You’re a good listener, you know? Better than my therapist … So, what happened since I left, tell me, haha.”
*
“I will marry Mary. That’s … yes, that’s good, right? She is … she gives me a certain hold in life. I would not know where else to go. What else could I do? So. We are getting married.”
*
“Oh God. Fuck Hey, Sherlock. I … She’s pregnant. She … she’s really pregnant. Did you hear that? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a father. I. Can you belive that? No, me neither. I … Oh my God, what am I doing?”
*
“This is not what I wanted, do you hear me Sherlock? That … my God, I can not do that. That’s … That’s not me. Fuck. ”
*
“I love her … Really, I do. I mean, I married her. But … I just do not know what I’m doing. I’m … This is not me. I don’t want a quiet family life in a terraced area. I want … I don’t even really know what I want … But, I hate all of this. I … I thought I was going the right way this time, but that … that’s not what I want. I’m not a family man, Sherlock. ”
*
“You know, Sherlock, you can just wake up once. So … so we could really talk. Because, well … You listen to me here as I talk every day. Aren’t you bored. Jesus. I know it would be a miracle if you woke up. I have … I’ve heard the nurses talking. They’ve given up on you. It would be a miracle. But … I don’t know, maybe you can just make the miracle happen for me? Simply … Oh God, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Good bye, Sherlock. Until tomorrow.”
*
6 weeks later.

“Hello, Dr. Watson. I’m sorry to call you so late, but he … he’s asking for you.”

“Who? Who is asking for me?”

“Sherlock Holmes. The coma patient you have been visiting. He woke up and now he’s asking for you. Very urgently.”

John hurried to the hospital. He doesn’t even notice that he left his cane at home. Until Sherlock points it out. Sherlock, sitting upright in bed, an exhausted, oblique smile on his face.
Sherlock, who says quietly, “Hello, John.”
Sherlock, who steals John’s heart within a second and opens the door to a whole new, completely different story. Who shows John a new way. Which is finally

           the right one. 



This was inspired by this beautiful post of @johnnlocked: AU in which Sherlock is in a coma and John is in the same room.

Corrected by my wonderful beta @bakerstreet-irregular <3

Tags are under the cut. As always, if I forgot you or you want to be tagged in future works, tell me :)

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Lying Is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

A/N: I honestly have no idea what this is bC I wrote in just now lol. I figured what the heck right haha (: also I had to rush bC of my lima bean attention span. I may or may not make this into another series (;I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! -Delilah ❤

Warnings: flirting.

——–

You stared down at the glowing computer screen in complete boredom.

It was spring break, yet instead of partying it up like usual nineteen year olds, you were tucked away in your room on the Internet.

The sounds of the rain blowing against your bedroom window was the only audible thing in the room besides the Twilight movie playing in the background. Taking a sip of your wine, you clicked away.

Omegle was literally the poorest excuse for entertainment. There was nothing but either perverts, psychopaths and obnoxious teenagers that screamed “send nudes!” Which was the complete opposite of what you planned to do.

But this site was new, it still allowed you to talk to strangers, as there were no profile pictures, but you could see their usernames. After typing in the first thing that came to your mind, you finalized your profile and started chatting.

Immediately, you were reconnected to the chatting page, where the familiar words typed out.

“You are now chatting with a stranger, say hi!”

Princess97: hi (:

You watched as the stranger began typing.

SexySeaBass82: hey. (-:

Princess97: sooo I’m kinda new to this lol.

SexySeaBass82: same. gosh I feel so old.

Princess97: oh? how old are you?

SexySeaBass82: 34. you?

Your eyebrows instantly raised. He was a bit older than you expected. You didn’t think anything of it, though. You were just chatting, for the love of god.

Princess97: wowwww I thought you were actually old for a second. (;

SexySeaBass82: lol you sure it doesn’t bother you?

Princess97: cross my heart. (-;

SexySeaBass97: thank god lol. you’re the first decent dame i’ve met on here.

You don’t know how it happened, but you and the mysterious SexySeaBass82 ended up chatting for hours. You found out he lived in New York, which was pretty far from your hometown. He was a really big Marvel fan, especially when it came to the Winter Soldier.

The guy had a huge hard on for him.

SexySeaBass82: all i’m saying is, the actor who plays him is 100% the hottest hands down.

Princess97: you mean Steven Stan?

SexySeaBass82: his name is Sebastian Stan lol. and he’s gonna win an oscar this year. just you wait.

You snorted.

Princess97: the guy who plays captain america is hotter.

You knew that would get him. You let out a giggle as you saw him replying rapidly.

SexySeaBass82: UM ARE U BLIND?

SexySeaBass82: SEBASTIAN IS A DIME OK?

SexySeaBass82: i cannot believe you said that. smh.

Princess97: ok, ok. he’s sort of hot.

The reply you got was almost instant.

SexySeaBass82: YES! mission accomplished! (;

After a few more exchanged words, you said your goodbyes and you watched as his status went from online to offline.

You plopped onto your bed with a content sigh. It was completely irrational, but you really wanted to talked to the mysterious man again. You guys were practically the same person, just at different ages. And you were pretty sure he was just bored like you were.

You closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day pull you under.

Little did you know, the man on the other side of the world was lying in his own bed, smiling like a dork before drifting off to sleep.

-FIN! 😊

Tag list of super awesome people! ❤️:
@sebbylover24
@i-write-tragedies-and-sins @melconnor2007
@kaitskennedyy @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x
@ballerinafairyprincess @harrisbn
@gingerbatchwife @dracu-ma-bucky
@shieldagentofthemonth
@witheringblooddemon @confuzzled-panda
@astralbarnes @jenna-luke @bellaballanda
@38leticia @davinaclairee

anonymous asked:

Hey, Cris :) Could this be the mystery guy? ibiza-voice*com/story/news/3276 The picture is 6 year old and I'm bad with people's faces, but his job description??????

HOLY SHIT!!  I think you found him!  That picture isn’t good, but I found this interview that’s also six years old, so he looks a bit different, but I’m almost positive this time (well I was last time too, but…).

David Levy, EDM Agent at William Morris Endeavor

David Levy is one of the first ever DJ agents and now based at William Morris Endeavour one of the biggest talent agencies in the music industry. Levy is also one of the most feared agents in the industry but is also highly revered and came across as exceptionally grounded.

Boss!AU - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5, Part 3, Part 4

Time for the final part! This is actually my favourite part! It’s more fluffy than the other parts and I can’t leave the characters alone for too long so I’m sure we’ll dip in to the universe in the future again! I hope you like it - thank you for all the lovely comments I’ve had since starting it x

“Harry?” You speak down the phone after arriving in the office. It’s like a blizzard outside, raining and windy, and the last thing you need is your phone ringing when you’ve barely taken your coat off. You have his spilt hot coffee over your hand, and your clothes underneath are wet from the rain too; not quite the same weather as New York just last week. Harry had let you take Thursday and Friday off as a thank you for working the previous weekend so you’d spent the past four days with your phone switched off and holed up in your flat with takeaways and movies in between sleeping off the jet lag.

Your flat mate had flittered in and out in between seeing her boyfriend and she spent most of her time at the weekends with him now, which you were more than happy to see her do (and it gave you the flat to yourself), and you hoped you might have the same soon, if Harry would only make up his mind about whether he wanted something serious or not. You understand he has more to think about than most men his age, with his four year old son in the picture, and being the number one priority in his life, obviously, but you’ve decisions to make yourself. On the screen of your laptop is a draft contract from one of Harry’s rivals sitting in your emails, all you have to do is read through, get back to them with any adjustments, sign it, and you’d be free to sleep with Harry without fear of anybody finding out and frowning upon it.

Shit, it did sound sordid when you put it like that. Sleep with him? Be his assistant-with-benefits?

“Hey…” he sounds breathless, as if he’s running late. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask yeh if I didn’t need to bu’ I need a favour from yeh?”

You sigh, placing the coffee on the desk and pulling your hair away from your neck, the phone safely nooked between your shoulder and ear as you did so, and tried to do open up the place as he speaks. “What is it?”

“Sam’s sick.”

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