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i have no idea what im doing

@spacedoutwrites / spacedoutwrites.tumblr.com

Hi, I'm Hannah! I'm a fan of many things, but I love me some Star Wars, Marvel, Castle, and Once Upon a Time. I also have an AIO sideblog @sparkythehappygiraffe
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Anonymous asked:

This photo made me think of Caskett and I wanted to share it with you (I added some spaces to the link so I could send it) post. news /article/ 2JRUjLw9quqTd4LPiYB3UmXZv2T

Thank you! :) I honestly kept trying to come up with a fic/fluffy Friday idea but I decided to finally share this anyway.

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Just Hold On Post Series

He doesn’t know why he’d done it. He’d seen it in the gift shop and something in him had just urged him to pick it up and purchase it, along with the snacks he was bringing for Alexis and Martha.

He sat at his daughters bedside, one hand cradling her hand and the other clutching the book to his chest. His daughter had inspired novels, had inspired someone to capture that sharp mind, fierce determination, wit and heroic heart, to show the world the parts of his little girl he was so very proud of. He didn't want to think of the other things in the book - he hadn't read them for a few reasons. But he had read the Derreck Storm books and he had enjoyed those. Knew that his son-in-law was a good writer, could imagine the love he'd poured out in his tributes to his wife. Could see why his daughter had liked them, had felt close to her mother when she'd picked them up.

And now he needed that anchor. Clutched to his chest. The piece of his daughter the world got to see. She could never be gone when she'd gone and had a writer fall in love with her, immortalised her.

They'd been here before. She'd recovered then. She'd recover now. And she'd laugh at him for holding Frozen Heat in his hands and they could laugh together. They could laugh together, one day again.

Just hold on.

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There was a young man from Peru

Whose limericks stopped at line two

There once was a man from Verdun

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mr-craig

There once was a man from the sticks Whose limericks stopped at line six. They were fine till line five Then they took quite a dive — But the problem is easy to fix If you just ignore the last line, it doesn't even follow the rhyme scheme oh god I've really lost control of this thing I'm so sorry...

There once was a man

From Cork who got limericks

And haiku confused.

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ruckuscauser

There once was a man from the sticks

Who liked to compose limericks

But he failed at the sport

Because he wrote them too short

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My sister and I were watching Lost but not paying a ton of attention and then suddenly the TV is like "Okay so we're going to have to remove two inches from the width of the island" and we both like snap our heads up like woah we were literally just dealing with a time travel problem why do we need to make the island a little smaller now? But it turns out the dog had laid down on the remote and turned it to Property Brothers so like bad news for whoever's kitchen they're designing but good news i guess for the Lost people for not having to shrink the island

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reblogged
May prompts
Prompt: First Kiss
Set: Season 2, maybe after Sucker Punch but could probably slip in anywhere.

May 4

Healing…

“I’m sorry that today reopened old wounds,” he said softly as he lowered himself onto the edge of her bed.

She laid with her back to him, knees pulled to her chest, face buried in her tear-soaked pillow.

“Don’t worry about it, Castle,” she muttered. “Can’t reopen what never actually healed.”

She felt the mattress dip under his weight as he repositioned himself beside her. She glanced over her shoulder and scoffed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she grumbled.

“Do you need a hug?” he asked, ignoring her obvious displeasure at his presence in her space.

She rolled over fully intent on tearing into him, taking out her frustrations on him, but as she came face-to-face with him and saw the pure concern in his eyes, the anger she had been holding onto seemed to fade away and she found herself leaning into his body.

His arms wrapped around her, warm and secure. He held her for the longest time, rubbing his hand up and down her back, soothing her until her breath evened out and her tears dried.

Exhausted, she pulled her head from his chest and tilted it back to look at his face.

“Castle?”

He looked down at her. “Yeah?”

She craned her neck, brought her face closer to his. As her eyes fluttered shut, she softly brushed her lips against his in a sweet, chaste move.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For caring.”

“Always.”

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assiraphales

anyways (I say this as someone who is deeply critical of the united states government, military, unchecked capitalism, police, etc) I am SICK of people treating america as if it has no cultural value or positives so….. I love u 85 million acres (bigger than italy) of national parks. I love u harlem renaissance. I love u groundhogs day. I love u sweet tea and fried chicken and jambalaya. I love u apple cider donuts and maizes on crisp autumn days. I love u 95k miles of coastlines and new england fisherman and hand knitted sweaters. I love u halloween where millions of people dress up and give candy to strangers and carve jack o’lanterns. I love u small talk and small towns and potlucks and bringing over casseroles to your struggling neighbors. I love u cowboys and ranch hands and arizonian cactus. I love u appalachian trail and dirtbikes and divebars. I love u sparklers and fireflies. I love u mark twain and toni morrison and emily dickinson and henry david thoreau. I love u rock n roll i love u bluegrass and hippies i love u jimi hendrix and nirvana and CCR and janis joplin. I love u victorian houses and jonny appleseed and john henry and mothman and bigfoot. I love u foggy days in the pacific northwest and neon signs and roadside attractions. I love u baseball and 1950s diners and soft serve. I love u native american art and pop art and poptarts. I love u blue jeans and barbecues and jazz musicians 

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