and all the sudden i am crying

anonymous asked:

This is so embarrassing but I just cried over GOT7 🙈 I was honestly watching goblin in my room when all of a sudden I thought about got7 and I started tearing up. Istg my love for them is so overwhelming I can't handle it sometimes. Is this normal ? Does it happen to other people? Am I weird?? Lol I'm so ashamed I'm 22 and I'm crying over people that I haven't even met yet

it’s not a problem to cry anon, don’t feel weird and ashamed bc of that. Only you know your own feelings

when ppl describe having bpd as “literal hell” and all the sudden ur spiraling into panic bc is my life actually hell?? if it’s not, do i Not have bpd??? am i making this all up???? what does “normal” even feel like??? is what i’m feeling “normal”???? is my functioning even at all impaired, or is my level of dysfunction “normal”??????? did things used to feel worse????? bc i can’t remember at all what i’ve felt before????????? who would i be without my bpd label???? who am i???? am i ok??????????

Me & Sertraline

- I want to and need to eat but deciding what to have is so fucking difficult.
- “Oh, you wanna orgasm? Good one…”.
- I can’t cry, which makes me want to cry.
- I’m sleepy.
- Are my dreams actually dreams or memories?
- I don’t give a fuck anymore.
- I’m smiling like an idiot for no reason. Why the fuck am I so happy all of a sudden? Okay cool.
- 2 drinks of alcohol aaaaaand I’m drunk.
- I’m fucking worthless.
- I’m going to research more suicide methods.
- This food makes me feel sick.
- I’m sleepy again. Nap time.
- Can you like, fuck off? Kthxbye.
- Is this stuff even working?

Title: Love At First Sight? (Part 9.)

Character(s): Denny and Jess (fictional/original character).
Summary: Denny has a sudden sense of realization from an acquaintance.
Word Count: 2,769
Author’s Note: I added two gifs because why not??? Are you crying yet bc I certainly am :(. Also, if you want to add more tears, listen to All I Want by Kodaline then listen to I Won’t Let You Go by James Morrison while reading this. It’ll definitely hit you right in the feels. Also, I used some familiar quotes from Grey’s Anatomy so that solely belongs to Shonda Rhimes. 

Tag list: @memphisgirl1977​ , @clinicalkayla​ , @lostxwanderess , @negan–is–god , @trashforwinchesters​ , @heartfulloffandoms

Gif belongs to @heartfulloffandoms and @mypapawinchester

“So, I told my mom about you.” I tell him, looking at the ships on the board game. We have been avoiding the subject of our last argument, but I knew Denny was still upset. He didn’t show it often, but I could tell when his demeanor changed when a nurse came in to check his vitals.

Denny looks over at me, smiling softly. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“She wants to meet you. I don’t usually tell her about my boyfriends because she tends to bring up the subject of marriage all the time. She married young. Had me young. I guess she assumed I would follow in her footsteps.”

One of the things I enjoyed about my relationship with Denny was that we were able to talk to one another without having to worry about what the other may think. Bringing up marriage was a risk I was willing to take. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was going to run away at the mention of long-term commitment.

“What exactly is young?” Denny asks.

“She had me when she was nineteen then married my dad a year later.”

Denny arches a brow, smiling. “So, you’ve got a young mom?”

I playfully smack his upper arm, shaking my head. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re mine and she’s still happily married.”

Denny takes my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. I stare into his eyes, instantly noticing the twinkle it always seemed to hold in his brown orbs.

“I’m joking. Besides, I like them young,” he winks.

I laugh quietly, dropping my eyes to my ships on the board.

“We’re not that far apart in age, you know.”

“But you’re younger than me regardless, so your argument is moot point.” Denny grins pride fully; he always loved being right.

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ciesca asked:

Hello, WQA! I’m writing 2nd draft of the first chapter of a grim fantasy superhero story where a character offered MC a job as magical knight. The thing is this chapter has many exposition and explanation what the job entails and how they can work with MC’s conditions. I have simplified them as much as possible, planning future expansion of the necessary topic later and took the “show, don’t tell” initiative to a few of them to keep it digestible. But I’m still not too sure. he chapter is about 5000-6000 words, and there’s no way I can pull out any of the explanation without jeopardizing MC’s character and really, all of them are necessary knowledge one need to know before taking a new job. The offer was also sudden and a desperate cry for help from a different world, so MC cannot know the details beforehand. Do you think it’s still an infodump, or am I just worry too much?


Yes, this is an info dump.

The reason why is this: it is not important for your reader to know everything about this character’s job, what it entails, etc. right at the beginning of the story. What you need to do is break this information apart into the most important elements, then figure out when those details will be important to the story. Then, make sure the details come out just prior to when they’re important. Otherwise, you end up saddling the reader with all of this information they’re going to forget by the time it becomes important in the story. :)

———————————————————————
Have a writing question? I’d love to hear from you! Please be sure to read my ask rules and master list first or your question will not be answered. :)

All my life you stood by me when no one else was ever behind me. 

If “Drag Me Down” does not scream Matsuoka siblings to you then you are wrong. God, this song. You all should listen to it okay, maybe cry a lil, too. Whichever floats your boat, man.

Lee: Chris Meloni was just recently on “[Inside] the Actors’ Studio,” and they talk about Oz, obviously, and he starts talking about the relationship between Keller and Beecher and their feelings for each other. And I was sitting there watching on my computer the other day, just like 3 days ago. And, all of a sudden, as he’s just talking about our relationship, I started to cry, like you would cry if you were like hanging out with somebody you were in a relationship with years ago, and you were talking about, you know, how fucked up the relationship was, but how much you still loved them and stuff. It was the weirdest fucking thing. I was sitting there like, I am crying? It was really trippy. And I think it’s a testament to how much that relationship… how it… I don’t know, that show… and Tom’s writing was so amazing, and those characters were so real. And I called Chris right after I saw it. He didn’t answer, so I left a message: “Dude, this is so weird, but sort of cool.”

Interviewer: Was it like that Adele song “Hello”? That message?

Lee: Yeah! [Laughs and starts singing] Hello…

– Lee Tergesen on dysfunctionalpodcast.com, May 6, 2016

idk what’s with my sudden increase in love for nct but ㅠㅡㅠ so cute….

I scream in frustration, work I had lost, angry red words bleeding off my tears.
You’re not here, you never will be;
I wish my tears were blue but all they are is red, red impulse sent and gone from me, empty blue space dry and barren behind my eyelids.
I am crying, streams of tears falling from my eyes, my screams blocked by salty water from my throat.
There are too many to come from my eyes.
Everyone is swept away, gone, taken away by the cold water from me.
I am, ultimately, the cause of my own demise and untimely breakdown, my red tears of anger eventually bleeding out, being taken over by blue.
Blue, filling the space the red he’d left, a sudden relief from the ugly blood mixing with anger from my raw throat.
Until my jaw gets cold and wet, and I shiver, crying empty, cold tears now.
Blue, a color I craved, is now my least favorite color, reflecting my ugly, swollen face in the sloshing waters from my soul.
It never stops, and I cannot find the will to search for it to end.

Anxious Ride Home

Have you ever been self aware of your breathing? All of a sudden you’re self conscious of the rhythm of your breathing and worry it doesn’t sound normal and than you start to feel like you can’t breath normal? Oh yeah plus the ever growing suspicion that the people around you are aware of your abnormal breathing? This was me yesterday evening on the shuttle ride home from work. I was so fucking anxious that it took a maximum amount of effort and energy to fucking breath, for 45min! I couldn’t breath like a normal functioning human being for forty five fucking minutes!

amazingmsme  asked:

Isn't Dear Evan Hansen the greatest thing ever? What's your favorite song?

I AM OBSESSED WITH IT. All week I’ve been listening to Waving Through A Window, Sincerely Me, and Requiem, but rn I’m listening to Only Us and I have a sudden soft spot for Words Fail (aka it makes me wanna cry). I LOVE IT ALL OKAY. What’s your favorite song?

tellme-your-wishesthree  asked:

I followed because I absolutely adore Princess Jasmine, and was really excited to see one follow me all of a sudden. I wasn't really sure how the two would interact at first, but either way I stayed because your writing is amazing, your characterization for Jasmine is also amazing and you are a lovely person as well. :)

               tell me why you followed and other stuff. / accepting

       OKAY EVERYONE BUCKLE UR TOILETS and listen up!! @tellme-your-wishesthree is SUCH A GEM and such a wonderful writer and friend. I didn’t think i would actually LAST this long on this blog if it wasn’t for the fact that the thread we have together kept me from giving up.  

      If you are looking for a person to get into DEEP conversations with about myth, legend, and general roleplaying that takes your characters to new heights and emotions than GIVE THEM A FOLLOW. Jasmine has never had a real friend in her life, and meeting Cyrus has changed her so much….she had learnt about love and trust, and above all the POWER of friendship.

     honestly YOU are such a wonderful human being!!! I don’t think i have ever enjoyed writing as much as I have with Cyrus. There are so many more adventures these two have together, and I am HONORED to call you a friend.

PTSD Meaning "Pretty Though Slightly Delusional"

I was 14 when it first happened, he was 16. And although the situation had been squashed and the bomb had been defused, it still affects me today. His name I will not recall because the simple mention of him makes me tremble with fear. We were in his living room and I was in his lap making out with him. Of course at 14 making out with someone is the best thing in the world but then his hand is pulling too hard on your hair and his grip around your hip is just a little too tight. So when asked why I cut my hair so short, it is because I am afraid of him pulling on it again.
You hear stories about people our age who have to deal with abuse but you can never imagine being in their shoes. Until all of a sudden one day you’re pinned down on the couch and he’s screaming in your face and telling you to shut up and you’re crying and all you can think to yourself is “Why didn’t Judy Bloom prepare me for this?” But of course she was too busy preparing you for why you were bleeding once a month. But the only difference is where the blood is coming from.
So you tell him that it’s okay. And you tell your friends you fell in the shower, or that you fell down the stairs, or that you hit your head on the cabinet, or that you got hit by a ball at practice, or whatever else can come to your head. And you tell yourself that it’s better if you eat your lunch in the bathroom rather than being traumatized because you keep mistaking the sound of binders slamming on lunch tables for the sound of his hand smacking you across the face. And you beg your teachers to let you keep your sunglasses on inside the classroom because you are too scared that someone will see the galaxies that are littered all over your soft cheeks. And you hope and pray to a god that you don’t even believe in that your family won’t notice it. And soon you too don’t even notice it.
My triggers range from the smell of his cologne to the sound of glass shattering against tile floors. I never thought I’d be the 1 in 3 teenagers who would have to endure some type or abuse in their lifetime. There are 645 students in my class. Meaning that 215 of those students will go through abuse. 215 is too many. 100 is too many. 50 is too many. 20 is too many. 10 is too many. 1 is too many. But out of those 215 only 1 will develop PTSD.
So how lucky I am to be that 1. How lucky I am that I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because I’m having nightmares of his hands still wrapped around my neck and my voice breaking while I ask him to stop. How lucky I am that I have panic attacks when my friends try to give me high fives because I am scared they are going to slap me just like he did three years ago. How lucky I am that I am petrified every time I meet a new man simply because I can still see his cold smile behind their eyes. And I know it’s ridiculous but I am still terrified he’s going to walk through the door and ask for me one more time and of course I am going to say yes.
So when you call me a slut for sleeping around, I am calling myself a soldier, using survival tactics I learned three years ago in order to keep breathing for another ten minutes in that God forsaken house.
But of course you say that I am not allowed to say I have PTSD because I am not a war veteran. Well I may have not fought in Germany or Syria or Vietnam, but I still get flashbacks of plates being thrown against white walls. My battle field was his midnight sheets that got tangled up in my throat as I gasped for air and searched for a god to come save me. So I am sorry that my battle field was not a deserted waste land.
And even though my best friend tells me to let it go and keep it in the past, I cannot do that. It is called PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. Post, meaning after the trauma happens. So I am sorry that you have mistaken me for an ice cold queen, but Disney makes it seem so much easier than it actually is. His voice is still in my head.
At last year’s renaissance I performed a poem about my anorexia. Afterwards people came up to me and told me that I can solve the problem easily by eating a cheeseburger. But what they don’t realize is that afterwards the guilt sets in and he’s hovering over me reminding me that no one is going to love a fat cow especially him.
So I am sorry that I am so scared of loud noises or disappointing the boy in my history class that isn’t even my friend, but he is so burnt into my brain that I cannot do anything but try to pretend he’s not yelling into my ear every chance he gets.
So when you joke about smacking your baby girl because she didn’t listen to daddy, I will laugh along and act as if he isn’t laughing with us. When you tell me to get over it when the sound of a book dropping makes me jump, I will just chuckle and keep my panic to myself because I know that my disorder is too much for you to handle. And when I apologize for making the simplest mistake around a guy, please do not tell me I’m dumb for feeling bad because then I will mistake you for him and all it ever will be is an endless cycle of panic and fear until one day it finally drives me completely insane.
I would never want anyone to have to go through this. To wake up every morning scared, and go to bed ten times more. So I urge all of those 215 seniors to speak up and tell someone what happened. Because keeping it inside may seem like the easiest thing to do, but three years from now you’ll be wishing you spoke up sooner.

I am a mere
statistic.
All that my past troubles
amount to is
a number
cleanly printed in textbooks
by perfect people
who only see us
like they see the crescent moon:
just a sliver,
two-dimensional.

I am more
than a statistic.
The time I entered the cafeteria
and felt eyes that couldn’t be seen
turning toward me
as my legs refused
to carry me to my seat,
the sudden urge to melt away,
cannot be crammed
into ink the shape
of a percent sign.

Cold, shaking hands
and throbbing lightheadedness
cannot be felt by reading
a ten-letter word.
Crying was always better
than static thoughts
and finding no hard evidence
because textbooks only list
clinical measurable symptoms,
but my story
cannot be measured
by a list.

I am more
than a statistic.
I am more
than an attention-getter,
a generalization,
words.
I am alive.
I am a continuing story.
I am up and down and progress.
I am memories and baggage and scars.
I am every moment,
every part of each moment,
every dimension.
I am more.

anonymous asked:

Gom reacting to their s/o getting really emotional, tearing up all of a sudden and when they ask why, s/o says that they feel incredibly lucky to be dating them

ooohhh my gooooooooosh this is so sweet

Akashi: His eyes grew wide the moment he saw the tears in your eyes, wondering if he had offended you in some way while he was talking about work stuff.  After knowing the reason behind your tears, his surprised expression immediately softened as he placed a kiss on your forehead before connecting his lips to yours. “Sweetheart, I believe that all the men around me are jealous because I have you. I am thankful as well for having you.”

Aomine: “O-oi! Why are you crying?” he asked in panic, couldn’t really get the reason why you suddenly burst into tears. You answered him in all honesty and your boyfriend couldn’t help but blush. He wasn’t really a big fan of cheesy stuff (or so he claims) but a sudden rush of ease flowed throughout his body after hearing the cause of your crying. “Well, thank you, I guess. And feelings are mutual, idiot.”

Kise: “E-e-eh?!?!” he asked frantically, arms flailing. After telling him why you were crying all of a sudden, Kise immediately peppered your face with kisses (as usual) before giving you a huge pout. “You made me worry (l/n)cchi! Don’t worry! I feel the same way and I’m so happy to hear that from you. We’re both lucky, I guess!”

Kuroko: He was taken aback by the sudden stream of tears on your face. He pulled you into a hug right away, giving comforting pats to your back as he whispered, “everything will be alright (l/n)-san.” You immediately told him the reason why you were crying, not wanting to make him worry anymore. He pulled out of the embrace and looked at you with softness in his eyes. “Thank you for feeling that way (l/n)-san. Please do know that I certainly feel the same way.”

Midorima: He was just lecturing you about being so reckless since you have managed to get a cut on your finger while you were cooking. Midorima didn’t intend you to make you cry with the mini sermon, so he started to panic. You told him that there was nothing to panic about since you just suddenly felt a little bit emotional after realizing how lucky you were to have him. Blood rushed to your boyfriend’s cheek, somehow making him redder than a tomato. “Y-you shouldn’t cry over th-that, nanodayo! B-b-but thank you. I’m grateful, too.”

Muraskibara: It took him some additional seconds to realize that you were actually crying. “Eh? Why is (l/n)chin crying?” he asked, putting down the bag of chips he was holding. He pulled you into a tight hug before kissing you, not minding if he got crumbs transferred on your cheek. When you admitted to him the reason for crying, Murasakibara instantly had this gentle expression on his face as he gave your head a pat. “Ne, (l/n)chin, I think I’m lucky too, you know.

Meeting Brendon Urie Nashville Show

@actualbrendonurie

So I met Brendon Urie today.

So I get inside finally and I’m like behind where they take the photo, btw I’m like one of the first ten people to meet him. Anyways I get in and all of a sudden I hear his voice talking to the people he’s meeting. And I BREAK DOWN and start BAWLING CRYING and everyone is like oh holy shit, and all of a sudden I’m NEXT IN LINE TO MEET HIM and the worker is looking at me smiling and says “just take a deep breath and hold it for three seconds, here let me walk you in.” And he walks me in and I am still crying and feel like a little girl and I turn the corner and THEY ARE ALL JUST STARING AT ME AND ALL LOOK SO SWEET AND SMILING LIKE OH GOD THIS GIRL IS CRYING and I shake all there hands and the whole time I’m just STARING at Brendon and he is so beautiful and angelic and his eyes were staring at me so sweet and looked like these big deep puppy dog eyes and his face is so clean and shaved and he says “hi!” and I just stare at him crying and laughing and so I turn to pose and take the picture and I say “hi I’m Rachel” and I could barely speak and I have my fucking arm around Dallon and fucking Brendon Urie and then I took the picture and had to go. I said goodbye and Brendon was so enthusiastic the whole time and so sweet and smiling and said bye and our hands TOUCHED again as I left and he Looked at me Again AS I LEFT and I came out bawling crying.

BUT WAIT THERES MORE. my sister goes in after me and SHE SAYS “HI I LOVE YOU ALL THAT WAS MY LITTLE SISTER.”

AND BRENDON SAYS, “OH SHE WAS SO CUTE.”

AND I WAS CRYING AS WE WALKED OUT AND EVERYONE WAS STARING AT ME AND HOLY FUCK THE REST OF THE NIGHT WAS INCREDIBLE.

FUCKING LOVE THAT MAN.

and that was my meet and greet experience. (Btw his hands were SO soft.)

if it’s a game (then we’ll cheat)

Gravity Falls || Stanford Pines/Stanley Pines || 1413
notes: Written for this prompt list. The prompt was seductive kiss.
¶ Also available on AO3.
warnings: teenage stans making out

.

Stan does not know what wakes him from his lazy afternoon nap. Perhaps it is the sharp and sudden cry of a nearby gull; or perhaps it is the distant shrill of children further down the beach; or his body’s unconscious acknowledgement of the day’s waning heat; or the weight of Ford’s stare; or perhaps it is a combination of some of these things or none of these things or all of these things—Stan cannot be sure. All he knows is that when he comes to wakefulness, Ford is leaning idle against the mast of the Stan-o-War, his arms crossed over his chest and his blue eyes half-lidded.

“Hey,” Stan croaks when he is mostly cognizant, his rough voice thickened and slurred by sleep. “How long was I out?”

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