you are truly brilliant

CS ff: “My Eyes, They Speak for Me” (1/2)

Summary: Canon divergence from 3x13 onward, where Walsh never reveals himself and Storybrooke isn’t where it should be. Emma and Killian have to not only find a way back to Storybrooke and Emma’s family, but keep each other and Henry safe in the process.

Rating: T… for now.

A/N: So *wiggles fingers* hello, @swankkat! I am your (omfg i’m so sorry it’s so late) GFSS! I had every intention of having this done for New Years, but um, well, the easy explanation is that @phiralovesloki maaaaaaaaaay have had a bit of a hand in the outlining of this fic (and we both know how truly brilliant she is) so I think you know how this story goes. My “Quick Oneshot” plan definitely got thrown out the window months ago. And instead I replaced it with “Well, 11k for the first half a fic is okay, too.” Part 2 is in progress, and that’s definitely where more of the ticky boxes you checked off start to come into play. 

This is the continuation from a fic I started back during au week, so if the beginning looks familiar to anyone reading this, that’s why.

Edit: Now available on FFN and Ao3!


The moments driving away from Storybrooke are painful because there in her rear-view mirror, she has to say goodbye. She memorizes the details quickly before she forgets them forever: her parents crying, Regina sullen and heartbroken, Neal wistful and sad over what could’ve been, and Hook… She swallows down the sob that threatens to break free.

Her family, her past, her future, all huddled together at the town line as the curse comes to take them away. She turns it into a joke as she puts the Bug in gear and drives forward. My parents, my ex, and a pirate walk into a bar… and the absurdity pushes a smile onto her face. She’s wearing that smile when they cross the town line and…

She doesn’t know why she’s smiling, other than her son is in the passenger seat taking in the scenery like he’s never seen it before. Which is ridiculous, of course, because he saw it on the drive up. This was just what they needed. A small escape from reality before starting fresh. She’s not excited about finding a new place to live, or buying new clothes, or finding a new school for Henry, but she knows it is all stuff that has to be done when they get to New York.

Keep reading

2

Everyone had told you to just go for it, but you were sure she didn’t feel the same way. You loved her, you truly did but you didn’t think that someone as brilliant as her would fall for you. However, you were proven wrong when you finally got the courage to ask her out. She had said yes and you still couldn’t believe it.

Requested By: Anonymous

1st place - My Fair Hatey

What’s not to love about this episode? It’s absolutely perfect. Great character interaction and team ups, beautiful animation and the songs are just perfection. They always get stuck in my head days after watching the episode sometimes I even wake up singing them. The ‘You’re The Greatest’ reprise is actually my ringtone. 

This is truly a brilliant episode and is the one I would recommend for people to watch to get them into the show.

Help us save Wander Over Yonder from cancellation! 

@disneyxd

jerrytysons  asked:

I'm not sure if you accept prompts right now, anyway I wanted to share this idea with you because I think you're the only one capable of writing this like I imagine it. Here comes the prompt: Castle and Beckett are fighting (usual s4, around headhunters) and something happens to Martha (maybe close to death) and Castle needs/seeks Becketts comfort? :)

He was supposed to be following Slaughter around that day, so imagine her surprise when Richard Castle comes skulking onto her crime scene. Indignation flares hot in her chest, because isn’t he too good to be hanging around her these days?

But the closer he comes, the easier it is to see that he isn’t in his usual mood of airy indifference, isn’t strutting around like he used to four years ago with a forced sense of arrogance. No, he’s trailing through the grass of the park towards her, his head down and a deep frown carved into his lips.

Any traces of the bitterness she’s slowly been harboring over the last couple of weeks vanishes, replaced by worry that fills her chest like ice water, overwhelming her sore heart, and she holds a hand up to Lanie, who’s noticed Castle with the same concern blooming in her eyes.

Beckett rises from her crouched position on the ground beside the body and strides for him, the dew still clinging to the grass licking at her boots, wetting the edges of her pant legs.

“Castle?” He practically startles at the sound of her voice, as if he didn’t even realize she was here and oh yeah, she’s definitely worried. 

“Ka-Beckett,” he corrects himself and damn, that hurts. How long has it been since her first name spilled past his lips so soft and sweet? Now, she’s lucky to receive the clipped two syllables of her surname, but it isn’t laced with ice this time. His speech is almost disorientated, just like him. “I tried calling you.”

She pats her coat pocket out of instinct, internally curses herself when she remembers her phone is in the car, charging.

“My phone died,” she murmurs, deciding to bury her hands in her pockets so to subdue their itching need to reach for him. Because something is wrong, so very wrong. “What’s going on?”

“I just needed to ask - would you mind - I’m-”

She’s never seen him stutter and stumble with his words like this, never seen him so flustered in general, and he nearly jerks when she places a gentle hand on his arm.

“My mother had a heart attack this morning.”

The hand on his arm goes slack. 

“I don’t want to - to inconvenience you, but Slaughter wouldn’t answer his phone either. I just wanted to ask if you could let him know I wouldn’t be coming in today,” he gets out on a rushed breath, but she can barely process his words, can barely think past the horrific idea of Martha and the words ‘heart attack’.

“Wait here,” she whispers, squeezing his arm, turning on her heel and jogging back to Lanie before he can respond.

“Is everything okay?” Lanie asks with an arch of her brow, but Beckett shakes her head. 

“No, I’ll fill you in later, but I need - I need to go with him. I’ll call Gates myself, but when the boys get here, will you just let them know something came up?”

“Of course, honey,” Lanie assures her quickly, sweeping her clipboard towards Castle. “Go take care of writer boy before he passes out over there.”

“Thanks Lanie,” Beckett calls over her shoulder, already halfway back to Castle, who’s standing right where she left him, albeit, a bit unsteadily. “C’mon Castle.”

His brow furrows when she takes his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Going with you to the hospital, I presume,” she replies, tugging him along until he finally remembers how to use his legs and trails along after her. “Is she in surgery?”

“Y-yeah,” he manages, his voice closing around the single syllable, and her heart cracks at the sure sound of tears clogging his throat. “They said it would be awhile. Beckett, why are you coming with me?”

Her feet come to a halt on the sidewalk, but she doesn’t release his fingers. His eyes are watery, signs of tears showing in the damp curtains of his lashes, the red rims of his eyelids, but a hint of skepticism has come alive too, the scrutiny she’s come to know so well recently not quite as brutal, but assessing. How did they get here?

But she won’t back down.

“Because we’re still partners, aren’t we?” she murmurs, almost afraid of the answer she could receive, but Castle doesn’t answer at all, just stares back at her, haunted and wounded. “I’m still your partner, Rick,” she amends. “And I care about Martha too, so I’m not letting you deal with this alone.”

She releases his hand and steps out into the street, hailing a cab with ease, and slides in.

“You coming?”

He hesitates for only a moment before slipping in after her, giving the cab driver the hospital’s address.

-

“Have you called Alexis?” she asks while they’re sitting together in the waiting room.

The silence between them hasn’t necessarily been awkward, but it feels unusual for her, unsettling to have Castle quiet for so long. Even in times of grief and tragedy, he is never usually so reserved. At least, never around her.

“No,” he mumbles, scraping a hand through his hair and keeping his eyes on the ground. “She’s in class and I don’t want her to panic.”

She nods despite the fact that he isn’t looking at her.

“Has Martha ever dealt with heart problems in the past?” she tries softly, but Rick shakes his head.

“No, no, she’s always been healthy,” he sighs, burying his face in his hands. “Maybe I missed the signs. Maybe if I wasn’t so selfish-”

“Castle, no,” she breathes, leaning in closer, placing a hand between his shoulder blades. “This is not your fault.”

His shoulders tremble and tears leak from between his fingers and she can’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around his hunched figure, awkwardly cradling his body to hers. But Castle surprises her, easing an arm around her torso, hiding his crumbling face in her neck, letting her feel the heat of his tears on her skin. 

“She can’t die,” he rasps, clutching her back with his large hands. “My mom and Alexis - they’re all I have.”

Kate runs her fingers through her hair, rests her cheek to his ear. She wants to inject that there is one person he is forgetting, but maybe he hasn’t forgotten at all, maybe he doesn’t have her anymore, maybe he never did. 

“She’ll pull through, Castle,” she promises against his temple, brushing her lips to the spot, ignoring the burn in her chest and remembering the real reason they’re here in the first place. “She’ll be okay.”

-

Oh, he’s so weak. But it’s so good, so nice to be encompassed in Kate Beckett’s arms, in her scent, to have her so warm and welcoming around him,

It’s almost enough to convince him he’s been wrong all along, that this is more than just a partnership, but no, no this is just Kate being his friend. And she may have broken his heart, but he’s grateful for this.

“Family of Martha Rodgers?”

Kate drops her arms, standing quicker than he can, but curling her fingers at his elbow when he rises beside her.

The nurse smiles at the two of them. 

“Your mother is out of surgery now. She won’t be awake for a while, but you can see her if you’d like.”

Castle nods dumbly, following along when the young female nurse motions for them to follow. The bubbly woman keeps talking, probably twittering on about important things he should probably be paying attention to, but he feels as if he’s in a daze, fallen under the numbness the scare of nearly losing his mother has evoked. But when he glances to his right, to Kate, he notices she’s listening intently, cataloguing every word. 

He’s grateful.

-

Seeing the effervescent Martha Rodgers laid up in a hospital bed causes her stomach to twist and her heart to clench, the sight just so wrong. The doctor she spoke to when they first stepped inside his mother’s hospital room had been encouraging, assuring them that his mother would make a full recovery, but it’s difficult to believe at the moment while she’s pale and unconscious and surrounded by hospital equipment. 

“You don’t have to stay.”

Castle is watching her from his mother’s bedside while she stands at the foot of the hospital bed, not knowing where to belong, where she’s allowed anymore. He offers her a forced but gentle smile, though, and it gives her a burst of confidence.

“Why would I go?”

He sighs, drifts away from his sleeping mother and towards her. “Kate, you’re a great friend-“

The words feel like a slap and she physically steps back from him, her heart aching. Friends? Really? That’s how he’s going to end this?

There has always been friendship, but it has always been more than that, too. At least, she had thought there would be more.

“You want me to leave,” she surmises and yeah, maybe it’s best. He doesn’t need to finally take that final swing to her heart while they’re standing in his mother’s hospital room. “Tell Martha I hope she feels better soon.”

“Kate?” Her name is a startled sound on his lips and oh, she’s crying. Shit. She wipes at her eyes and turns away, heading for the door, but then his hands are on her shoulders, halting her escape, holding on. 

“Sorry, I just - misunderstood,” she explains, averting her eyes to the wall when he steps in front of her, blocking the doorway, her only exit.

“What did you misunderstand?” he whispers, wiping the lone tear that hangs from her jaw. 

“You,” she sighs, turning her head to escape his touch. She doesn’t want it, not if she can’t have him. 

“How did you misunderstand me?”

God, he’s going to make her say it? Make her embarrass herself right in front of him? But then his hands are cupping her face, his thumb sweeping over that damp spot on her cheek.

“Kate, why did you come with me today?”

“Because I love you, you idiot,” she hisses. “Because I was worried about you and Martha and I-”

He cuts her off with the firm press of his mouth, the warm length of an arm around her waist and the hand cradling her cheek.

“Love me?” he breathes, the hot exhale coating her lips that already yearn for his to return. “You love me?”

“God, Castle, I thought you were smart,” she chokes out, her smile blooming in time with his, and she can’t resist surging forward, tasting the newfound joy spread across his mouth. “Of course I love you.”

-

When her eyes peel back, it’s to late afternoon sunlight filtering through cracked blinds and a fierce ache in her chest. She won’t remain awake for long, she can tell by the strong pull of sleep already tugging her back down, but before she can indulge in the marvelous effect of whatever drugs are coursing through her system, her tired eyes follow the beams of fading sunlight that land upon the couch not far from her hospital bed.

Where her son and Katherine Beckett are snuggled together, the detective’s head on Richard’s shoulder and her son’s arm secure around Katherine’s waist. Martha smiles to herself before she relaxes back into the soft pillow cushioning her head and the flow of medication cushioning her pain. 

About time, kiddos.

This Message Is For You

If you could only see how brilliant you truly are, you would know the truth. There is no other like you in all of the universe or multiverse. You are so beautifully divine. You have the power to transform anything with your presence.

Do you know why you are here? You are here to share your divinity with the world and the world is honored to have you here.

10

vm rewatch � 1x06 Return of the Kane  

Just A Scratch//Im Jaebum

Originally posted by defsouljb

Pairing: Jaebum x reader

Genre: Smut, a little bit of fluff

Summary:Anonymous said:
Your Jaebum scenarios are truly amazing. How do you write so well? It’s brilliant work. I literally appreciate your efforts and dedication towards this beautiful blog. I love this blog. so much. So so so much. You’re an angel. I just wanted to request one more jaebum scenario as i’m really loving them(sorryyy) -Jaebum gets really angry at you for anonymous reasons and ends up hurting you (cuts). Later he realises is scared to touch you or make love. You anyways persuade him to make love.

Author’s Note: The third and final Jaebum smut tonight! I hope you all enjoy~

xoxo Sara


It had been a long, long week without Jaebum, and you felt disconnected. You felt as if your love was fading, and somehow, you felt like you shouldn’t try anymore. It was that you two weren’t intimate, it just felt as if the love between you vanished, and it hurt you greatly to think that way.

It hurt Jaebum as well once you told, him, because he loved you with all of his heart. He began to get angry, which you understood, because you were too, but you were determined not to let it show. You weren’t going to show him your angry side, so you kept your calm.

You couldn’t muster enough words to describe what you were truly feeling, and it confused you. You couldn’t tell if he loved you anymore, and his actions were almost proving your theory.

Keep reading

Klaroline Fic Rec 4

Number four in this Klaroline Appreciation event organised by the lovely @supremeuppityone comes from @purestheartslove with I’ll Leave My Happy Home For You found here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12192686/1/I-ll-Leave-My-Happy-Home-For-You#

This is a twist on the typical Soulmate AU with a slight change in canon and a beautiful, measured development of the feelings between Caroline and Klaus without them even meeting. It’s masterfully written and so fresh and innovative with its spin on the soulmate trope. It’s different and angsty but by the end it’s wrapped up so perfectly. It’s written like a series of short insights over the years which in my opinion only adds to the appeal as each one is perfectly concise and yet such epic storytelling in so few words.

So, you know what to do! Go read and review this truly brilliant piece of klaroline fanfiction and spread the love! Remember, this week is Klaroline Appreciation so tag all of your appreciation with the tag #klaroline reviews and spread the word.

It was so bright…

Darius looked around, surprised at how full of life the East Shroud had been. There was more color, more vibrance…more peace. A voice spoke out, Darius realizing where he was. He looked at himself, seeing plain, white clothing.

“Quiet, boy. You’ll scare it away…”

A thick set of shoulders loosed an arrow, said arrow striking something in the distance. It let out a sound, the one behind the bow letting the rest of their breath out.

“You’re trying to decide why you’re here. On one hand, you could be dead…on the other, I’ve summoned you here…”

“…dead?”

“You dolt, I summoned you here. Do you think in going to let my champion die after such a brilliant display? You truly do have valuable allies, not to mention the mate you’ve chosen, although not necessarily the one I’d see you with, is quite the firecracker.”

“…Oschon?”

“He speaks. Good! I can’t let my kin sit here, bewildered. I’d be a terrible sort for doing so.”

“…wait, kin?”

“At least you can speak for words. That’s good. Yes, Darius, I said kin. You’re no warrior of light. How do you think you resisted such a dark power? Who do you think granted you such a gift as the echo? In the end, it was I. Can’t get your hands dirty without reaching into the muck! Sorry about the aether pool though…I tried.”

“…Hell’s bells, what the fuck do you mean, kin?”

“It’s in your blood, lad. Now, you need to wake up. We are treating your self-sacrifice as a redeeming quality here. Prove to us you’re soul truly belongs where you feel it does. I’m off to collect my hunt…”


There was dark. Nothing but endless dark. His right arm throbbed, but he couldn’t move. Everything felt so heavy.

It was the armor.

The armor! The Crucible! He was still inside it. The voices outside were asking questions, a softer voice answering. The soft voice tensed up answering few times, making requests and the like, but mostly it stayed at its tone. Everything was muffled. His eyes shut slow, his body only wanting rest.


“His hand moved, right there! Watch!

He could feel the armor taking the very minimal amount it needed to. It was keeping him alive, keeping his arm from fully breaking, keeping his ribs from snapping in pairs. All he wanted to do was take the helm from his head, but he couldn’t even do that. All he could do is squeeze his left hand.

Cage had one of those devices as well. Darius wondered if she had been working with the boy known as Ricc, tinkering with old Allagn tech. It was all he could do in his metal prison. Think. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t have the strength. Not until…

“Dari, please…please be okay.” the soft voice said, the man finding some vigor as he realized who those words, that voice belonged to.

The highlander raised his hand to his face, arm quivering, fingers on the side of the helm. He pressed, wincing as the faceplate retracted. He coughed, fresh air finally hitting his lungs as he struggled to get out one word, his eyes getting used to the light in the room.

“…hi,” he said softly, voice gravely. “Too stubborn to die…” which was followed by a wince as he lowered his right arm.

“You came back for me. Silly idea…”

@itarairispyre

anonymous asked:

Hello, this is the anonymous compliment fairy coming to tell you that you are truly one of the sweetest, most wonderful, and wildly brilliant people I happen to know. and I want nothing but good things to happen to you. I know things suck right now and I wish I could give you a real hug instead of just this note, but just remember you are amazing and deserve to be loved.

Anon, you just… i just…
i love you and i needed that

2

Richard Armitage has been nominated for Best Actor at this year’s Olivier Awards for his work as John Proctor in The Old Vic’s “The Crucible”.

The Crucible” is also nominated for Best Revival.

The awards ceremony is on April 12th.

  • neurotypical: I have this headcanon that *insert character here* is actually imagining the entire plot of this story and they're actually in an insane asylum because they're cr*zy!
  • other neurotypicals: OH MY GOD! that is brilliant. you are truly creative and amazing. wow! *jacks off to mental hospital imagery and neurodivergent peoples suffering*
  • neurodivergent person: I have a headcanon that *insert character here* is autistic and psychotic! heres a couple reasons why and how I see this tying into their story...
  • neurotypicals: WHAT!!!! HOW COULD- HOW! WhY- WHAT. that character is normal and cool like me. you are romanticizing mental illness, stop doing that sweaty :)))))

anonymous asked:

Hey, dear. This is just a reminder that you are truly a brilliant writer. I love the variation between your muses and the evident love and deep care that you put into all of your muses and their depictions. Keep being your amazing self. ❤

         uM I LOVE U ?? seriously, though, this means a lot to me. i honestly appreciate this so much, thank you !! <333 im beyond flattered that u think im a brilliant writer like ! how sweet ! and i do love and care so fuckin much abt my muses, i’m happy as heck that it shows ! bless u and i hope u have a wonderful day/night, u lovely person ! 

Art Blogs!

I follow some.good, amazing, beautifully talented artist on here. So I decided to make an appreciation post to the ones I’ve been following and the new people who I recently started following

@alistruecolors
@ohnokrisdoodles
@cccathartic
@danny-spikes
@maestolenpencil
@maestolensfw
@harrydoodles
@muji-milk
@mylovelyloft-art
@akisdoodles
@jaecchi
@karukarasmut
@alulawings

You guys are the most brilliant artist that I’ve ever come across and seen! If you’ve never heard of these blogs or seen one of their art pieces, you have to! They are wicked good and bloody brilliant! ❤😊


You guys are truly amazing👌😍

Today I found a letter that my dad wrote to me five years ago, when I was thirteen. Dated: 8/29/11. - It was short after I ran away from home, and our family was hanging by a thread. I found myself reading it tonight, and came across my favorite piece in the letter. It states: “You are worth more that a cheap moment of self indulgence, or a careless act of youthful indifference. You are truly a diamond - brilliant and bright, shimmering in dazzling sparks of light. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, or treat you otherwise. Demand to be treated with respect; don’t allow yourself to sell-out for cheap like a common rock that has no special value or beauty.”
-
I wish I had read this, and realized then what I realize now.
Just because certain people in this life do not see your worth, does not make you any less valuable. // If you fight with monsters for too long, you too, will become a monster. The concept of love is to fall in love with a beautiful mind, and search for a deep soul. It’s like drowning in something that leaves you breathless, but still full of life.
When you start to know someone, all their physical characteristics start to disappear. You begin to dwell in their energy, recognizing the scent of their skin. You see only the essence of the person, not the shell. That’s why you can’t fall in love with beauty. You can lust after it, be infatuated by it, and even want to own it. You can love it with your eyes and your body, but not your heart. And that’s why, when you really connect with a person’s inner self, any physical imperfections disappear; become irrelevant.
-
The primary thing about this letter that strikes me, is the relevancy to it.
In my past life, I did not know my worth or my value.
I did not understand that being treated with such disrespect wasn’t normal, and when I questioned it, I believed that all men would be the same way.
Although I went through hell and back, I would not change anything from my past because that is what made me who I am today.
-
I have learned that the only reason life is fair is because it is unfair to everyone in the human race. - Although it is unfair, a lesson that I have learned through my struggles is that it is not wrong to be strong, and it’s better to be confident in who you are, rather than to conform into what society believes you should be. // I would rather be labeled the black sheep, or a bad influence for being true to myself, than be well known as the people pleaser.
I am merely a convenient scapegoat for those who do not know how to love themselves, accept themselves, and/or who do not know how to embrace their own individuality. I am an off brand species, who is rather intimidating in knowing who I am, and I wear my stains of confidence with pride.
I believe that confidence is the sexiest attribute a woman can have.
-
I am okay with being judged on my past, I don’t make a big deal out of it. People will only believe what they want to believe, and THAT is not my responsibility to change their closed minded perceptions.
My father has always been concerned with my lack of caring, or that I don’t ‘think’ about my reputation. - The truth is, I do care about my reputation, but I am not going to alter myself to fit everyone’s standards of what is right and what is wrong.
I believe that if you are true to yourself, and know your worth, the right people will be in your life. It is something I do not take lightly, and will always have a hard head about myself when it comes down to it.
I see the world in black and white, nothing more, nothing less.
-
I read a quote earlier today that said, “we fear rejection, want attention, crave affection and dream of perfection.”
I think what my dad said was true; not only for me, but for you.
—  Journal Entry No. 1 by Keilah G. - 9.5.16

I hope she is worth it. I hope she makes your world spin, and I hope that when she laughs you think how you can’t live without her. Because if you don’t then all this pain and heartache isn’t worth anything. I hope that when you tell her always and forever that you mean it. Cause losing you is unbearable. Your love is all consuming. Intoxicating. Addicting. And when you leave her, she won’t know who she is for a little because a girl would give up her dreams for your love. I hope you learned to fight. Because we would still have been together if you fought. I know you’d give up anything for her. But don’t forget about you. Your are lovely and truly brilliant. You could change the world. God knows you changed mine. I compare every guy to you. From looks to his thoughts. Because of you the bar is set so damn high that no one can reach it. I miss you every night. But she is your world. And she is lovely and so are you. I hope she can see it. Because I took advantage and for a moment forgot how lovely you are. I hope she loves you with every fiber of her being, and I hope she supports your dreams. Cause their amazing. I love you, but I want you to be happy with her. Because you deserve that all consuming intoxicating love that we had.