a legitimate nightmare

I’m currently mixing microphones through soundproof glass and I’m not allowed to turn on the monitors because an actor is sleeping backstage and the monitor connects to his dressing room. This is legitimately a recurring nightmare that I’m living out in real time.

i accidentally fell asleep with a face mask on last night and i legitimately had a nightmare where i looked in the mirror and my pores looked abnormally large and then i noticed they were expanding and then all of the sudden there were gaping holes in my face and my skin was disappearing and then i woke up and ran to the mirror and thanked jesus for my average sized pores

anonymous asked:

Im interested to know your proof to My Immortal being a satire work, care to share the proof with us?

its not so much verifiable proof as it is evidence that Strongly Suggests that its a troll work

  • the sheer absurdity of it is already evidence enough. just a little bit. just a Little Bit. like really, objectively, look from an outsiders perspective on fanfiction and its culture. 
  • maybe it started off genuine but the author just fuckin gave up with that and started rolling w/ the absurdity?
  • theres no way this fuckin girl couldve brought in tom bombadil and marty mcfly into the story without intentionally knowing that it makes full all sense. how can someone who finds 500 different ways to spell their self-inserts name incorrectly (and then go as far as to call her by Their Name) possibly like… even Know Tom Bombadil. how could she bring in all these pop culture references like that tbh if she was soooooooooo fuckin emo.
  • like are you telling me the person who said “he put his thingy into my you know what” and legitimately thinks the nightmare before christmas is a Horrifically Tragic film could Actually do these things.
  • the author is either a satirical genius or genuinely Like That, and either way? wonderful. 

So my friend Daed had an image as his desktop background when he was ~13 that we have yet to locate again. It was a picture of a horse with three eyes, and two mouths that had sharp pointy teeth. I haven’t ever seen it, only had it described to me, but Matt saw it and it legitimately gave him nightmares. The fact that we’ve never been able to find it again has me thinking it’s some kind of cryptid or government cover-up, but Daed insists that it’s the reason he can look at images of creepy eldritch horrors and old gods and they don’t have any effect on him.

grim-monarch  asked:

Okay here me out on this one though, batfam headcanons on reader insert's powers of darkness/shadow control.

  • ‘i will not beg, but i assure you that my vigilantism would be more effective if you provided shadows for me to jump from’ ‘no damian’
  • dick lets them have the shower first because last time he jumped ahead of them he’s pretty sure fucking apparitions haunted him for weeks
  • bruce is literally the only one that knows the complete extent of their powers and he’s used to them popping out of nowhere
  • jason asks them to help him pull a prank on the batfam but ends up too terrified of the creature they shape the darkness into and says ‘yeah nah how about we don’t’
  • cass is pretty sure they crouch as a shadow in her room when they don’t want to talk and she’s fine with that
  • stephanie learns that they make kick ass shadow puppets. their most complex one so far is the gotham city skyline
  • tim accidentally lays down on them all of the time when they’re melding with darkness. they tell him they could hide in the dark circles under his eyes
  • barbara has legitimate nightmares because of it, and they often show up in the middle of the night to apologize
Anxiety Laf Series: Sleep Anxiety

A/N: So I’m not sure if anyone else has ever dealt with this specific form of anxiety, but I figured I would muster up the bravery to write it because I would’ve loved to see a fic about this. So here we go! (Read previous installments here)

It kept happening. Every time he got close to sleep, his breath would hitch and he’d be jolted awake. His heart would be beating faster than ever, his breaths would come in short bursts.

If you fall asleep, you die.

He knew it was illogical. How many nights had he fallen asleep and woken up just fine the next morning? He was sixteen. He knew shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

If you’re asleep, how can you be sure you’re breathing? How can you really know that you’re falling asleep and not dying?

Yet there he was, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide, breath fast. His head started to ache, and he logically knew it was from the tension, from stressing, from lack of sleep, but oh my god, I’m dying. I’m dying and I’m all alone in my room and this is it. I’m dying from stress or lack of sleep or some unknown illness.

He quickly sat up, panting. He needed to move. He needed to prove to himself that he was fine, and then he could get some sleep.

He got out of bed and shakily made his way downstairs to get a glass of water. When he tried to grab a glass from the cupboard, he accidentally knocked one down onto the counter with his shaking hands.

“Merde,” he cursed under his breath, relieved to find the glass hadn’t cracked or chipped. He stood still for a moment, listening for any sign of movement in the house. Silence. He was breathing a sigh of relief when Alexander stumbled into the kitchen from the living room.

“What happened?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes. If he’d been in a better mood, Laf would have laughed at Alex’s appearance. The smaller boy had clearly fallen asleep in his clothes, most likely on a textbook from the way one side of his face was flat. His hair, which had been in a bun originally, was sticking out at various angles. But, in Alexander-fashion, he had no sense of his appearance. He never did, really.

“I, um, how you say, dropped, this, uh,” he held up the glass in lieu of the word. English always escaped him when he was anxious.

Alexander narrowed his eyes at Laf. “Laf, what’s going on?”

“Thirsty,” Laf said. He picked up the glass and went to the sink, hoping he wasn’t visibly trembling.

“It’s two in the morning.” Alex sounded much more alert.

This isn’t good, Laf thought. “I can be thirsty at two in the morning, Alexander,” he grumbled.

“You’re shaking.” Alex was right behind him now. Laf could feel his breath on his neck. He shivered.

“Cold,” he whispered.

“But it’s not,” Alex rebutted. “Laf, what’s really going on?” Alex gently laid a hand on Laf’s forearm and turned him around.

Laf sighed, all of the fight leaving him. He was too tired to fight his anxiety and Alexander.

“I cannot sleep,” Lad admitted.

“Would it help if I slept over?” Alex asked.

Laf looked down and nodded ever so slightly.

Alex’s hand was on his forearm again. “Laf, I don’t know why you seem ashamed. How many times have you had to sleep in my room because I was having nightmares? How many times have Martha and George done the same?”

Laf wanted to scream but that’s because your problems are legitimate! You have nightmares because you’ve been through so much! Me? What have I been through? Why am I feeling this?

But he kept silent. He knew Alex would tell him his own problems were legitimate, too. That events weren’t the only cause of anxiety. He didn’t feel like getting into it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. Alex simply took him by the hand and led him up the stairs. Once they were in Laf’s room, the door shut, he wordlessly climbed into Laf’s bed and snuggled under the covers. Laf was still standing by the doorway, looking at Alexander.

“You coming?” Alex asked with a yawn.

“Oui,” Laf said weakly. He joined Alexander, but he didn’t lay down. He sat, legs under the covers, staring intently at the quilt, but not really seeing it. No, instead, he was lost in his thoughts.

“Laf,” Alex said, his hand coming to rest on Laf’s back. “What’s going on?”

Laf just shook his head in response.

“Anxiety?” Alex asked.

Laf hated it. Hated that he was weak and that Alexander knew about it, that he was witnessing it. He hated burdening Alex with his problems. He knew nothing would happen to him. He knew he was fine. He knew, he knew, he knew, but still––

It could happen…

Thinking about it was not helping.

“Not now, mon ami, please. In the morning.” Laf knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it then, either, but anything to get out of talking about it now. Anything.

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “On one condition.”

Laf sighed. He should’ve known there’d be a condition. It was Alex, after all. “Tell me how to help?”

Oh. “Stay awake a bit?” the words left Laf’s mouth with little forethought, and he regretted them right away.

But Alex’s face lit up. “Easy! I already got like two and a half hours of sleep. Let me grab my book from downstairs and I’ll be up long after you’re out like a light,” Alex said with a wink.

With that, the smaller boy bounded down the stairs to get his book. Laf couldn’t help but smile just a bit, so relieved he wouldn’t have to face the night alone, so happy to have a brother like Alexander.

guys. if you never want to sleep again – please continue to watch this gif without diverting your attention elsewhere, for like 5-8 minutes.

something ain’t right with dat man….and i hope to god he never fixes it.

anonymous asked:

today i closet-cosplayed will graham and was in character all day but i forgot i hadn't slept in two days and hadn't eaten anything except a plate of curry and several boxes of sugary snacks in the past three days and then i had a breakdown in class. in character. i was legitimately hallucinating the nightmare stag it was intense.

holy shit

youtube

Breaking the fourth wall for a second: They offered me a panel at the Power Rangers convention again this year- last minute and slotted after just about everything in the convention center was closed. One of my biggest joys in life is walking onto a stage with no idea of what to say (the literal “Actor’s Nightmare”). I legitimately had no clue what I was going to say or do going into this. I just had a dumb video to show. A lot of people ask how I don’t break character or get nervous or whatever- it’s because I throw myself to the wolves as often as possible to try and get myself out (even though, in this case, there were only like 15 wolves in the room). After you do that a billion times, you just don’t care enough to get worked up anymore. Doing stuff that scares you is hard but so worth it.

On a related note am I the only woman who is a little bit pissed at Moffat constantly emphasizing motherhood and childbirth with all his female characters? Like how Sherlock’s mother gave up her passion for mathematics to settle down and have kids? Like how Mary gets pregnant and suddenly it ‘completes’ her? Suddenly everything she’s done is a moot point because she’s carrying John’s child? Or maybe like in doctor who when Amey leaves Rory because he wants kids and she can’t have them?

It sort of sends the message that a woman is not worth much unless she is having children, like we’re not complete as a person until we pop out a kid.

Maybe it’s just because I can’t have kids, but even if I could, I have no intention of having kids and to be honest I actually have nightmares about having kids. Legitimate nightmares that wake me up at night hyperventilating because half the time I forget to eat and I can’t keep a houseplant alive do a baby is like a screaming pooing ball of terror inducing responsibility that I neither want nor need in my life.

If I was in the Moffat universe I guess that would make me useless and unimportant and not worthy of being in a happy relationship. Fuck you Moffat.

Ok, rant over.

g33kd4sh  asked:

I think Star Vs needs an alternate outro for more serious episodes. There's something so awkward about seeing a legitimately heart-wrenching or nightmare fuel-ing ending, and have it immediately be followed by Star being all "I think earth is a pretty great place!" and whatnot.

The outro, very reminiscent to anime outros, is top-tier cuteness, no doubts about that, but I thought the same thing. Maybe an outro with a calmer music, without the song, without Star walking back home. Just, you know, something a bit less happy-go-lucky.