and woke up my sister

i will literally never forget the watching the season four premiere of the office like we spent a whole summer agonizing over whether or not jim and pam were FINALLY dating and then in the beginning my brother actually threw a pillow at the tv when it looked like they weren’t together and then they kISSED and i swear to god my whole family started screaming and hugging like we woke up my three year old sister lmao and my friend called me during the commercial break so we could yell about it and then we stayed on the line so we could scream every time they did anything like when they held hands we hit decibels that weren’t audible to humans and to this day i have never seen my brother literally flail about something the way he did on that fateful night in 2007

who the fuck do you think you are, claiming i’m not a real heathers fan? genuinely and honestly, please get a grip. the movie is better, imo, but even if you just like the musical, you’re a real heathers fan. to be a fan is to like heathers, any version of it.

give props to the original always, because that’s who made sure it existed for you, but you can even hate it if you want! that doesn’t bar you from being a fan of heathers content! get off your high horse and learn to enjoy things, asshole gamer boy mentality!

esquire korea ♡ may ‘17 issue
translation: sullaem (source)

are you happy? this is duo interview’s last question.

jonghyun: i’m going to be happy. (*) for the past six months, i’ve thought about this the most. about happiness. my disposition in and of itself tends to torment me. for people like me, it isn’t easy to be happy. though on the other hand, it is possible to grow.

so, now, you want to grow but also be happy, too.

jonghyun: a few years ago, i was crying and whining at my mom and my sister. when i was really drunk. i asked my mom and sister …, it wasn’t long after we’d moved. i asked them if they were happy. after i’d been drinking, i woke up my entire family who’d already gone to bed, like some ahjussi. it had been my number one goal in life, you know, to make my mom and sister happy. they both woke up and told me they were happy. but i was so jealous at the fact that they were able to reply that they were, indeed, happy. because it wasn’t like that for me. i told them while sobbing, i want to be happy too. then i felt like i’d done my mom and sister wrong. but ever since then, i started contemplating about happiness. for about six months, i pondered specifically over what i would need to do in order to become happy. i think that time of transformation has come. i think i need to become happy, now. i must become happy. i am going to be happy. (*)

[translator’s note: the full nuance of “행복하려고요” is a little hard to translate directly. it’s kind of like saying “i am going to try to be happy”, like he’s telling himself he will be happy no matter what, and he will do all he can to ensure his happiness from now on.

In case you’re wondering why I haven’t told you

It’s because of the look you gave me when you asked what the new soap I’d bought was and I hesitated before replying, “It’s called Gender Bender.” You then passive-aggressively bought me 24 new bars of soap in an assorted package, which I am not yet halfway through.

It’s because of the joke you made about “pretending to be a tranny to get a discount” in the car on the way to get haircuts one Saturday morning.

It’s because of the way I watched your face when I was talking to you in the bathroom this morning when you noticed I, your female child with short hair and a flat chest, was wearing a shirt that said, “#1 Dad” on it as a joke. I saw the look in your eyes like a warning.

It’s because of the way you asked my older sister if I was interested in that boy I brought over to play video games instead of going to prom. “He’s kind of weird,” you told her, “but I just want her to like a boy.” And when my sister, who knows, asked, “What if she doesn’t?” you replied, “I’m her mother, I’m allowed to have a preference, that’s all.”

It’s because of one of the many times I was visiting my dad in New Hampshire when he said, “Oh, when we were together, your mother hated gay people. And your grandmother can’t stand them, either.”

It’s because of the way you opened my sister’s mail and saw that she had registered herself as a democrat. A few weeks later, we were out to dinner with one of your friends, and you said, “And I’ve told Jaimie, if she’s going to register as a democrat, not to say anything. Her sister I’m not sure about, but I have confidence that Jaimie should at least wisen up before long.” And I kept quiet because you told me not to say anything.

It’s because of the day we went school shopping in the summer before ninth grade, and when I asked if I could look to buy boy’s jeans, you said, “Like it or not, you’re a woman, and you have a woman’s curves.” I still wanted boy’s jeans, but I told you I’d changed my mind. I still want boy’s jeans, but you think I changed my mind.

It’s because of the way you scrunched your nose when I told you my character in the school musical had been changed from “Kate,” who had one line, to “Ike,” who appeared in several scenes. Instead of congratulating me, you asked why they made me play a boy every year.

It’s because of the nightmares I used to have wherein my aunt, who figured it out on her own, outed me to you, and I got so scared of your response that I woke up with dust clogging my throat.

It’s because of the time my sister looked at our cat and said, “Sometimes I don’t really think of Oscar as a boy cat, he’s kinda in-between sometimes.” And you said, “Well, he is a boy cat.” And you used that tone. I have grown up with the presence of that tone settled in my gut like a rock.

It’s because of the way I sat in my room having a panic attack, huddled in front of my blasting fan because it was too hot and I couldn’t breathe, the first time I tried on my binder (the binder that I bought secretly with my own money three years ago and you still don’t know I have.) If anyone finds out, I thought, what will happen to me?

It’s because of the way I told you I wanted to try living with Dad for awhile and you broke down, wouldn’t talk to me about it, wouldn’t acknowledge that it was happening until it had, and even though I was happier there, even though I had told my dad and his girlfriend within a month of living with them, even though I was more involved with theater and didn’t hate the thought of going to school every morning because I liked this one, even though I had friends that I loved more than anyone I knew back here, in this godforsaken farm town in rural New York, you still made me feel guilty enough about leaving you that I came back anyway.

It’s because of the way that I’m out at school, that I don’t care if anyone there knows that I’m not a girl or a boy, or that I like both girls and boys, and there I’m loud, and there I’m happy, but as soon as I get home I’m quiet as a mouse because I don’t want you to talk to me because you might say something careless, and think nothing of it, but your throwaway comment, to me, is a dagger in my lungs.

It’s because of the look you gave me when I was thirteen and I told you I wanted to be a prince for Halloween.

It’s because of the way you once prefaced your indignation at something sexist with, “I’m NOT a feminist, but…”

It’s because of the way my heart spiked with panic when we were reviewing my college applications together and I realized I’d marked gender as “prefer not to respond” and quickly scrolled past it.

It’s because of what I imagine you would say if you found out that I have signed up to live in gender-neutral housing for my freshman year on campus, and that I will not let any of my roommates believe I am a girl.

And if you’re wondering why I haven’t let you read anything I’ve written, it’s because my writing is deeply personal to me, and I don’t want you to know any of my secrets. I don’t want you to know what I think about the world because I know you would disagree and tell me so. I don’t want you to know what I think love should be because you would only be cynical and try to tell me about the real world. I don’t want you to read about my queer heroes because these characters and their stories are important to me, and I feel like if I let you touch them, it would ruin them for me.

It’s because I remember all of these things every time I get close to you.

It’s because I break my own heart thinking about how much I want to love you, but can’t.

If you’re wondering why I haven’t told you I’m queer, and why I never will, it’s because I don’t trust you. And when I start my own life, and I live on my own, I will not care who knows, and I will not care if you find out, because once I am out, I will be far away, and I won’t have to see that look on your face ever again.

dnp: lite // shorter, lighter questions regarding dnp // total length: 17:06

1:04 my personal favorite dnp outfits
4:26 what is special about dnp’s relationship?
7:37 my fav pick-me-up vid(s)
8:55 fav post-baking universe moments

dnp: going deep // heavier topics, bit more serious business // total length: 33:07

:20 why do dnp command respect from their peers? 
5:54 why do dnp command attention and interest from their audience? 
14:04 thoughts on lack of prolonged fandom interest in the stage show and books, and the branded nature of those products
17:59 the youtube community’s response to felix + dnp’s relationship with him
24:16 dnp, phandom, and race

part ii: personal // questions bout me and my opinions on shit // total length: 53:06

0:00 rapid-fire questions (or my version of it) 
3:07 wolfstar fic recs and my short-lived phase of non-interest in dnp (my ao3 bookmarks and mentioned authors
6:07 what do i want to be talking about on this blog? (spoiler alert: idfk) 
10:33 the style/form of writing i most prefer to write
12:56 being a year younger for my grade + bullying advice
16:12 setting limits for fandom investment and consumption
23:16 hard lines for dnp things i won’t discuss (longer post here
24:41 law degrees: what’s the point man 
32:39 how to stay informed on countries that aren’t the united states (longer post here
39:54 my thoughts on tumblr anonymity, or Why The Hell Did Nihilist Toothpaste Turn Anons Off? 
49:00 things that cheer me up 🌻💛

notes … 

+ok first n foremost @pedestriansquirrel sent me a cute af ask for this that just said ‘how are you today??? :)’ and it was so sweet and i recorded an answer for it when i was still testing my sound but i forgot to properly re-record it and i feel so bad so im answering here: im good and mostly just so very tired, i woke up at 3 am today to drive to DC to help my sister move out of her summer apartment there (she was interning at the house of representatives lmao nerd) 
+sorry in general for the inconsistent sound qual, i recorded early chunks over a month ago and u can defffff tell. i think in ‘dnp: lite’ i talk about a phil live show from ‘this week’ which was actually in early july lmao
+thanks to dann @queerofcups for this amazing idea (go listen to their own voice ask thingies here bc they’re fucking fantastic and dann’s personality is honestly heartwarming) 
+and thanks to sarah @waveydnp for motivating me to finish this lol i probs wouldntve done so if u hadnt messaged me xxxx  
+thanks also to @dantithesis @vdekje @geeky-gossip @queerofcups @waveydnp @flannelfish @void-journal and several anons for sending me questions. yall are the nicest <3 there were also a few of you whose questions i couldn’t get to here but i’ve saved all of them, and maybe will use them to do another episode of this in the future xx

Confession from a follower!

When I was 12 one of my sister’s, who was 22 woke me up by sucking my cock. I remember waking up moaning, a lil groggy and looking down to see my swollen cock in my sister’s mouth. See was just sucking on the head gently as to not wake me. I peeked out of one eye and watched the rim of the head of my cock going in and out of her mouth. I’m When she noticed I was watching she slid down all the way to the base and then booked up and down on it only letting a half inch come out. I couldn’t help but thrust my hips up into her. This was the first sexual experience I ever had. I didn’t know it was suppose to be wrong. I’m not even sure if I was able to cum as I didn’t have any pubic hair yet. I remember it feeling like I was going to explode and maybe I did but she just kept sucking. I could barely stand it anymore. She was wearing a dress and pulled down her panties and stuck her pussy in my face. Completely soaking me. A couple days later I fucked her for the first time.

I Still Like You

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of one night stand, anger, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos) alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2219

Summary: Sebastian was the last person you expected to see when you came home for your brother’s birthday. There’s bad history between you both but there’s still something you like about him. 

I cupped my hands around my mouth, blowing on them to try and alleviate the frigid ache in my finger tips while my eyes stayed on Sebastian standing a few feet away. His phone was pressed against his ear and it was clear that he wasn’t liking whatever the person on the other end was saying, his hand running through his hair in frustration.

I rolled my eyes, shivering slightly as the rain ran down my back in cold rivulets, sticking my clothes against my body. This had been the last thing I’d expected when I got on the plane earlier this morning and my frustration was only growing with every second I continued to stand on the side of the road in the rain with the person I was least excited to see.

It was my Brother’s birthday weekend and when he’d asked me to fly down for the weekend I’d wholeheartedly agreed, having not seen him in close to six months. That excitement had lasted right up until I got off the plane and saw Sebastian waiting for me, my brother having tactfully avoided mentioning that he was also going to be spending the weekend. My mood had only soured further when the car hit a particularly deep puddle of water, spinning out on the slick roads before ending up at the bottom of a muddy embankment.

Another minute passed and Sebastian was hanging up his phone, walking back towards me while shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.
“So…we’re going to have to stay out here tonight,” He grimaced. “Tow truck won’t be here until the morning.”
“You’re kidding right?” I exclaimed angrily. “Please tell me you are fucking kidding me.”
“Hey, I’m not thrilled about it either princess,” Sebastian replied, his tone just as annoyed.
“Don’t you dare princess me Stan! I’m not - no, you know what? I’m not staying in this car with you all night, there is no way.”

I turned away from him, beginning to walk in the direction of the airport, only making it a couple of steps before Sebastian’s hand was curling around my upper arm, holding me tight enough that I couldn’t keep walking.
“Where is it that you’re planning on going?”
“Anywhere but here with you.”
“Stop being so immature,” Sebastian practically growled, spinning me back to face him. “It’s pitch black out here, it’s storming and I’m not going to have your brother kill me because you walked off and got yourself lost out here somewhere.”
“Let me go.”
“We can stand out here and argue as much as you like but I’m not letting you go until the both of us are back in the car.”

After a few more minutes of shivering I sighed, my will to get warm and somewhat dry over running my will to get away from Sebastian. Begrudgingly I followed him back down the bank to the car.

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One of Those Days.

Jughead x Reader

Summary: He had a bad day and you take him home and try make it better. 

Warnings: Its hella cute. And very cuddly.

Originally posted by marorra

Jug had asked if he could come over to my place after school, he didn’t give a reason why and I was late for my last lesson so I didn’t get a chance to ask. When school ended I waited in the hall for a few minutes before I spotted him, he looked drained and irritable. I stepped out when he reached me, I didn’t say anything because I could tell he didn’t want to talk or listen, I simply just took his hand and walked us home.

No one was at home when we arrived so I took Jug upstairs to my room while I got something for us to eat downstairs. I brought up some tea and cookies and found Jug sprawled over my bed. I sighed and set the tray down on the corner of the mattress and gently moved his arm, he watched me with heavy eyes and inhaled deeply as I lay next to him.

“I got you some tea?” I whispered as I pulled my fingers through his messy hair, that’s  how I know he’s had a bad day, he always fiddles with his hair as a nervous tic.

“Thanks, can you pass the cup here please.” He said sitting up and pulling my blanket over his body. I reached over for the cup and gave it to him, “Thanks babe.” His voice was thick and raspy. He sipped his tea and stared at the blank wall.

“Wasn’t a good day was it?” I whispered and took his free hand in mine, I wriggled closer and put my head on his shoulder.

He put his head on top of mine before he whispered back, “No, not really… Can we not talk about it though. Can I just enjoy being with you right now.”

“Of course.” I hushed and felt him lean to the side and place his cup on the night stand. He lay down and pulled me into him, we lay in a tangled mess with our legs intertwined and our arms wrapped around each other like we could loose each other at any moment.

“Talk to me though, tell me something good.” He stated in a breathy monotonous tone.

“Something good?” I giggled slightly.

“Mhm.” He smiled for a second, his eyes still closed.

I responded only when his smile faded, “Well Jughead Jones The Third, my good news is that I get to be with my favorite person in the whole wide world on this divine afternoon.” He smiled again, only to fade in a moment or two.

I watched him as he fell asleep, his brows furrowed together in a constant frown even as a soft snore escaped him every now and then. He was exhausted, you could feel it in his presence, the heavy mood filled the room and his body felt heavy on mine. I pulled strands of hair out his face and watched him adoringly as his chest rose and fell with each breath. Soon after I had felt my own eyes fall heavy.

I woke up about an hour later when my sister came home from practice, Jug was still asleep with the pain of his day still evident on his face. I listened as my sister climbed the stairs and opened her bedroom door which was across the hall from mine. I heard her put her stuff down and pull the door closed, she paused and then took two steps to my door. She knocked softly and entered without waiting for a reply from anyone. She stepped in the room quietly, knowing that I was either asleep or doing work if it was this quiet. I looked up at her and she smiled at us.

“Is he asleep?” She said so softly it was barely audible. I nodded and she sighed, “Just get up soon mom said she’ll be home early today.”

“Thanks.” I mouthed and looked back at Jug, his face still frowning slightly and his hair falling in front of his eyes. I brushed the stray hair out his face and put a hand on his back, grazing my fingers up and down his spine and onto his shoulders. “Jug, babe, you got to get up.” I said gently while slightly shaking his shoulder. He groaned and nuzzled closer to me. “No babe, come on.” I giggled and shifted away slightly.

He pulled me closer and rolled on top of me so I couldn’t force him out of bed, I giggled and tried to push him off, after a while I gave up and wrapped an arm around him again. “Love you.” He said in a gruff sleepy voice.

“I love you too.”  

I was sleeping on the sofa since I think it’s comfier than my bed
I woke up to my sister watching some sort of Mystery tribute did on movie maker on our big ass tv

My sister woke me up last night. She said I was crying in my sleep. She said that she thought she heard me say a name, but she wasn’t sure. She asked me if I was okay.

I lied and said l wasn’t crying, it was my sleep apnea. I told her she must’ve imagined me saying a name, but I knew it was you I was crying out for. I told her I was fine. I told her to go back to bed.

—  get out of my mind if you wont be in my arms

I have had countless experiences that have brought me closer to a truth of my own. A truth so big nothing else matters. Nothing else exists for me anymore. ‘Me’ doesn’t exist anymore. And I couldn’t be happier. 

Ask and you shall receive. I asked for truth, prayed for forgiveness and begged for help from God, from the Universe from whatever higher power was out there.. because I just couldn’t do it on my own anymore.  

From that day forward a series of synchronicities led a breakdown of the feeble foundation on which I existed. From 2012 to now, this awakening has had me peeling layers and layers of my identity away. And last night.. nothing was all that existed. 

There is such a majestic awe about the Creator. Something that humbles your very being. I am that Creator. Forever a part of this Creation. Having a body doesn’t mean there is seperation. The seperation is the illusion.

Think of energy, think of everything in waves.. intricately weaving in colorful spirals, holding pictures together into a 3D shape. This conscious energy through which a hologram of this Reality is formed, is that Higher Power, the God, the Creator of it all.

That is what I am… that is what you are. There is no way we couldn’t be. We are a part of it all.

A great illusion, a play of a sort if you would let yourself believe. With the one Creator playing every role. 

But we forgot… fell deeper and deeper in the cycles of reincarnation.. each time trying to do the best we can with a case of soul amnesia. It’s so easy to get caught up and believe that this is all there is to life. It became easy to live in skepticism denying the existence of God, sure made it easier to not hold ourselves to any moral standards.

But we’ve been shifting, the times are changing.. Humanity is evolving. And there’s a need to want to consciously be aware. Of our existence, of the truth, our decisions, of this higher power that we can no longer question the existence of. 

It’s all happening now. 

You have to die in this life to truly be born alive. And last night the ‘me’ storyline I have been carrying for lifetimes died. And the seperation this body created, dissolved. This blissful union was all I have ever wanted since the moment this soul has taken birth on Earth. 

I have always been home. I just needed to let go. 

abs-321  asked:

(I can relate to Teru now thanks to ur hcs,thanks) what if Teru and all the esper boys had a sleepover (mob managed to convince Teru but it took a whole week) and he didn't slept but he knew some things about them. Ritsu and mob drools a lot and Shou talks in his sleep as if he's giving a speech and he moves a lot as if he's one of the greatest hip hop dancer.

im sorry this was actually all i could think about after reading shou moves in his sleep

Season 3 Finale Coda

I don’t know about you all, but I was FASCINATED when Connor said the line “I’m having coming out flashbacks.” I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I wrote this. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self harm/suicide attempt, homophobia/slurs Please enjoy! I’m real proud of this one!

It’s in the quietest moments when his thoughts make the most noise.

When it’s quiet and he’s alone, when there aren’t other people around to talk or distract him, his thoughts and memories creep up on him, wrap around his entire being and choke him.

All the memories, all the thoughts and feelings, past and present, decided to hit him, like a violent gust of wind, all at once.

Connor has a knuckle white grip on the sink, staring at his wrists. He can still make out the purple bruises and rash from the cuffs digging into his skin. It all floods back to him, everything that happened. Finding Wes, smelling the gas, bolting out of the house. The way his ears rang when he heard the explosion. The helplessness as he watched the house burn to a crisp, Wes still inside, dying before his eyes in a heap of fire and smoke.  

He didn’t see the pictures of Wes until they were at Bonnie’s; the sight of Wes, full of bright smiles and shy tones, lifeless on a metal slab, flesh seared to the core, muscles torn apart, made him want to vomit in the chair right there. The sound of the explosion played over and over in his head, coupled with Laurel’s screaming, hollering that he should kill himself, end it so they wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.

In that moment, a small part of him knew she had a point.

Connor’s breathing went ragged and strained, heart quickening as the memories burned into him.

He gazed at his wrists again, remembering every pang of his stomach another hour he went without food in the holding room, and the way his tongue dried with each minute without water. How he felt like a chained animal, remembering the last time he was restrained like that.

Connor doubled over, dry heaving into the sink, nothing coming out but his stomach felt like it was on fire. His vision grew blurry as he stumbled out of the bathroom, knocking into walls and doors towards the living room before collapsing in a heap on the floor, wheezing, sobbing. It seemed as if everything went dark, a cruel, mocking contrast to the sunny day outside.

He raised a shaking wrist to his hand, remembering the places that used to house different scars. He sobbed and wheezed some more, his heart feeling like it was going to hammer out of his chest as he curled in on himself.

Through the high-pitched ringing in his ears, he heard the door open and bags drop to the floor.

“Connor!” Oliver cried, diving to the floor beside him.

“Connor, can you hear me?” he asked placing a hand on his shoulder.

“H…h…help…help me…” he sobbed, reaching out.

Oliver grabbed his hand, squeezing it while pulling Connor in closer with his other arm.

“What can I do?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“H—hold…hold…” Connor choked.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Oliver murmured, holding him close, rubbing circles into Connor’s back.

With each word Oliver said, and with each turn his hand did on his back, Connor felt the suffocation of his memories fade away, little by little. His hands stopped shaking, and his heart slowed down, no longer feeling like it was trying to escape out of his chest. The pressure of Oliver beside him, along with the warmth of his body and the soft words of assurance Oliver whispered in his ears helped the attack ebb away. His breathing opened and his vision was clearer. After a while, he spoke.

“Thank you,” Connor croaked, voice rough.

“Of course,” murmured Oliver, pulling away slightly to wipe the remaining tears from Connor’s face.

“Can you help me up?” Connor asked.

Nodding, Oliver shifted his weight so he was on his knees, sliding an arm into the pit of Connor’s to hoist him up off the floor. His legs feeling like jelly, Connor landed on wobbly, weak feet, but he was up nonetheless.

“Couch?” Oliver asked.

It was Connor’s turn to nod as Oliver helped him plop on the couch, sighing when he finally traded cold hardwood for soft plush.

“Do you need anything else?” Oliver asked gently, still standing.

Connor shook his head, “No, just stay,” he mumbled. Oliver took the seat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder on instinct, Connor coming to rest his head on Oliver’s shoulder.

“I…I didn’t get the chance to actually think about…everything that happened. It…I guess the adrenaline kept me from it getting in my head. They all hit me like a ton of bricks,” he said, voice still rough.

“I’m sorry…”

“Some brain, huh? I can’t even wash my hands without freaking out about it,” Connor huffed a bitter, humorless laugh.

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