brain formation

Patater Week - 2/11 - cuddling
  • Kent and Jack rekindle their friendship and it’s beautiful
  • Kent spends as much time with them as he can
    • hannukah, a new years eve party, a joint 4th of july/birthday bash
    • even the spare weekend off
  • the thing is, tater is always there?? for everything???
  • so, he flies to providence one day
    • his flight is delayed
    • his layovers suck ass
    • his coffee was decaf, I mean how do you accidentally make coffee decaf
    • (if wasn’t an accident, the barista definitely decafed him on purpose because he was kind of being a dramaqueen and the barista just couldn’t handle it anymore)
  • he gets in late, like 2am, so he can’t check in to his hotel because of course he forgot to do it online
  • so, he texts Jack and Bitty (about twelve times each until he wakes them up) and demands to sleep in their guest room
  • tater is there
    • he’s always there
    • doesn’t he have his own apartment?
    • “I live with ex. Ex kick me out. Jack offer I am stay.”
  • Tater heavily suggests he does not take the guest bedroom
    • “wall shares wall with zimboni’s headboard. For small man, itty bitty makes big noise”
  • Kent triest the couch for 2.5 seconds before he realizes it’s a giant piece of shit
    • he plans to take them shopping when the sun rises
  • Tater to the rescue: “I am staying on floor, you stay with.”
  • If he wasn’t so fall down dead tired, Kent would say no
    • and how beautiful Tater is 100% doesn’t factor in
    • or how Big he is, and how nice it will be to be cuddled in those arms
    • even though they’re totally not gonna cuddle, it’s just sleeping
  • tater takes forever to get their “bed” settled
  • it’s the best floor-bed kent has ever seen
    • there are about a million pillows
    • all the blankets are in this uncomfortable looking nest
    • but oh good lord it’s so nice
  • look. Kent doesn’t mean to cuddle at all
  • he doesn’t
  • even if thinking about it was, like, 80% of the reason he said yes
  • but he wakes up at around 4 all tangled with Tater
    • he was totally right about how amazing it feels to be wrapped in Tater’s arms
    • kent’s not as small as everyone makes him out to be, but Tater is just HUGE
    • he falls back to sleep
  • he wakes up again at 6
    • god it’s so early Jack hasn’t even gotten up yet

SO NOW YOU DECIDE WHAT HAPPENS- it’s choose your own adventure, y’all

    • Tater wakes up right after Kent
    • Neither one of them says anything, and they definitely don’t mention the fact that they’re cuddling
    • or how much they both love it
    • or how Tater’s hand is rubbing soft circles over Kent’s back
    • or the way Kent’s hand is just the perfect size to hold on to Tater’s shoulder
    • and they don’t mention it when Jack and Bitty ask when Kent got in and was the guest room okay?
    • And they don’t have to mention it when Tater slips his number into Kent’s back pocket before he leaves with Jack on a run
    • kent realizes very quickly that he has A Problem
    • that is pressing very insistently into Tater’s hip
    • and Tater seems to have A Problem, too
    • before he can manage to pull himself out of the tangle of limbs, Tater wakes up too
    • they both kind of fumble around about who should get up and that doesn’t help the situation any
    • the fumbling turns more into dry humping than anything else
    • and then dry humping turns into kent riding tater’s leg
    • then coming in their pants like teenagers
    • maybe it happens the next night, too, because kent already didn’t check into his hotel one night, what’s another night sleeping on the floor
    • or not really sleeping on the floor, more accurately
    • (they give Jack and Bitty a run for their money in volume levels)

So I had this dream last night where Vegeta was brainwashed by this science corporation to be evil again, and his body was trapped in this fluid vault. And Bulma and Goku had to go rescue him.

So they’re fighting all of these Vegeta phantoms, like ‘images’ of Vegeta and Bulma is having a hard time because she really just wants her hubby back. And she’s crying because they’re taunting her like “I don’t love you I never did and our wedding is a sham” and she remembers that Vegeta gave her this wedding ring that was from his mother. And the ring can turn into a crown that can be used as a weapon (?) so she throws it and all the Phantom Veggies get trapped, and the real Vegeta comes up. And Bulma crying because she missed him and she runs to him yelling “Vegeta!” except he’s not a physical form so she runs right through him. And she loses her fucking cool because she’s tired and she wants her fucking husband so she turns Super Saiyan Bulma (????) and blows up the whole lab.

I woke up so who knows if she gets Vegeta back.

Long story short: my brain is constantly giving me Vegebul hell, even when it’s just a dream that makes zero sense

So I wanted to share this with yall 😂

Things your character absolutely cannot stand.

bold = your character does not enjoy this.
italic = your character is begrudgingly okay with this, used to it or will at least look the other way.
strikethrough = your character displays this trait, approves of or engages in this behaviour (or item).

swearing / profanity | being petted | certain colours | nail biting | quiet environments or people | loud environments or people | slang usage | mumbling | tapping | knocking | rocking back and forth | humming | twiddling their thumbs | nails on a chalkboard | hedonism | off key singing | obnoxiousness | overconfidence / cockiness | crying | shyness | scratching | proper grammar / formal speech | not chewing with their mouth closed | belching | unkempt people | poor hygiene | yelling | certain smells | religious people | non religious people | zealots | hypocrisy | arrogance | ignorance | defiance | racism | prejudice | assumptions being made about them | rumours | arguing | infidelity or cheating | backstabbing | routines | gluttony | laziness | procrastination

tagged by. @narcdepsyboi

tagging. @shvrker @dfndr @attitxde @rebursting @lack–two

For every story where you kiss her; there is a story where you don’t. There is a story where you tell her everything, there is a story where you tell her nothing, there is a story where you stand in front of her with blood on your hands and all you can tell her is that you’re sorry.

The best stories are the oldest ones, the ones stitched into the fabric of the universe, told again and again across worlds and throughout galaxies, with every ‘once upon a time’ piercing it anew. You fall in and out of love with her across the long stretches of time and space, your paths interweaving and intertwining, crafted by the alignment of the stars, by the cold hands of fate, by distant, faceless authors with the power to transform you from ruin into rapture and back again.

Not every ‘once upon a time’ is paired with a ‘happily ever after’. The beginnings change, the endings alter, and only the gods know what may happen in between. You are no god, but you do know this:
there is not a single story in which you do not love her.

In this one, she falls from the sky; in that one, she looks up at the stars. In this one, she is standing beside you; in that one, she is a thousand miles away. In this one, you tell her you love her. In that one, you don’t.

In this story, you leave her. In the next one, you stay.
—  may we meet again | e.j

So I was talking with @norcumi last night for the first time on skype, and my brain ran away with me. Pertinent music:

Thus proving that the fastest way to get me to write is to egg me on with loud flaily noises. 

Keep reading

me: today is a good day!

brain: because of her chronal disassociation, tracer is now permanently stuck at the age of 26, can no longer die from old age, and will have to contend with seeing the rest of the overwatch crew grow old and leave her.


Here’s the thing: I honestly don’t care if you think abortion is wrong. I don’t care if you believe life starts at conception or that pregnancy is a miracle. I. Don’t. Care. Because at the end of the day, all that is is a belief. YOU believe these things, not me. You have every right to believe that, and I will never tell you that those beliefs are invalid. My problem arises when you try to tell me that those beliefs are fact, because they aren’t. Facts tell me that 25 weeks is when there is sizable brain activity, and since the loss of brain activity is what constitutes death, the formation of brain activity is what constitutes life. 25 weeks of pregnancy also happens to be the cutoff time for the majority of legal abortions in the U.S. These are the facts. Your beliefs are valid, but they are only valid to you. I get upset when you try to say that because you believe abortion is wrong, because your religion advocates against it, because you think life starts at conception, than it must certainly be true, and every one else has to follow what you believe. My problem is not that I think you’re wrong, my problem is that you don’t see that your personal beliefs have nothing to do with the choices and bodies of women that have nothing to do with you. My problem is that I want you to keep your opinions and beliefs out of politics and more importantly out of the uteruses of my sisters.
—  something i want to say to every religious pro-lifer who doesn’t understand the difference between opinion and fact (via esosiques )

am i the only one kinda bothered by ppl using the “brain: you gotta” post format for like… Normal Neurotypical fandom w/e things….. cause that post format was made by neurodivergent n mentally ill ppl to express impulsive thoughts and urges…. not for ur fandom shit…. lol……..

In case you’re womdering how my night went, I just woke up from a dream where it was basically a music video involving a bunch of destructive assholes in some tiny shitty super russian knockoff country were drinking some energy drink that causes them to literally explode, and watching each other do it.

Then Killer Frost drinks it and just? Kills them all? In a really badass way? And it was like? Part of this “music video”? Format my brain was going with?

Dreams are fuckin weird

Request: Undone

Request: Hello. I was wondering if you could do a SamxReader based off of the song undone by Haley Reinhart? Thank you so much!!!

Word Count: 940

Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!<3

PS. The song made me cry like a baby. I hope you’re happy :p

Yet again, you find yourself staring at the bottom of a bottle. The burn of alcohol still tingles at your tongue and you sigh, wishing that it had some kind of effect.

You were told it was going to make the feelings go away, but you’re just a mess of muddled, swirling thoughts and feelings and memories – no different than you were three hours ago.

Y/N, I need you to listen to me.” Sam pleads, “You have to understand-”

“You’re too stubborn to make this work.” You hiss, rage blazing through every fibre of your body. You’ve never been so angry in your life.

You stumble over to the bag on the bed, digging through it in hopes of another bottle. No such look, and you’re left with nothing but your thoughts for company.

“It’s not about being stubborn. It’s about keeping you safe because I love you.”

“If you loved me at all, you’d… you’d stay.”

“Don’t, Y/N.”

“Don’t go, then.”
Lying back on the bed, your eyes fixate on a small speck of black on the otherwise bland alabaster ceiling. You sigh, closing your eyes.

Bad idea. Your mind floods with images of him. Laughing, crying, smiling, talking, reading. Everything.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You made it harder.” You choke back a sob, “What happened to forever?”

He looks at you sadly, his eyes brimming with tears that he won’t shed until later, when you can’t see. You know, though.

“Everything happened.”

Where does love go when it’s gone? Does it ever really leave at all? Or does it somehow transfer into other emotions? The fear, anger; sadness. Does that use up the love that once took up such a huge place in your heart? One day, will the cavity replenish itself with fondness? Bitterness?

“See that one up there?”

“Sam, there are billions of them.” You giggle, looking over at him. Your hand wanders over the dewy grass to find his own, and you lace your fingers with his.

“That one. Straight up there, the bright one.”

“Uh… yeah, I see you.” You follow the direction he’s pointing in, grinning.

“That’s our star.” He whispers, “So if we’re ever apart, you look up and so will I, and it can be like we’re together.”

It’s so dark outside; streetlights left off to conserve power in a small town like this. But the star burns bright still, like nothing has ever happened.


“Sam, get your ass back in here. You’ll catch your death.” Dean yells from the warmth of the motel room. His younger brother doesn’t answer, however, still lying on the hood of the Impala and staring at the sky.

Dean hauls himself to his feet and storms out, flinging the door open.


Still, no answer. Dean walks around, hopping up on the hood alongside his brother.

“What you lookin’ at?”

“It was ours,” Sam whispers.

“You and Y/N?” He asks, prompting a nod from his brother. Dean notices the clear tear-tracks down his cheeks and sighs, lying back against the windscreen miserably. Sure, you’d been with Sam, but you were his friend too. His sister in all but blood. He misses you too – the last week has been pure torture for him. It’s been lonely without your laughter and cheerful teasing; your jokes and your reassurances. There’s an empty space in the family now.

“Oh, come on, Sammy. Just call her.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“She hates me.” He whispers into the night, your words coming back to him.

“I don’t know why I ever bothered loving you, Sam Winchester.” You hiss, your words burdened with unshed tears and anger, “I should have known you’d be so pig-headed and pathetic.”

“No she doesn’t.” Dean states, “She couldn’t hate you.”

“You didn’t hear how she was talking, Dean.” Sam whispers, wiping away tears, “You couldn’t know. She hates me. I could die tomorrow and she wouldn’t care.”

“Not true.” Dean dismisses him, “You were perfect together, okay? I don’t know your reasoning behind all of this and honestly, I don’t care. The fact is, you’ve lost the love of your life and I’ve lost my best friend because of it.”

A shot of guilt rockets through Sam and he sighs, sliding off of the car.

“Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“I can’t.”


“I thought you said you wouldn’t be calling.” You say as soon as the ringing stops. Sam is silent, and you can’t even hear him breathing.

“I know. I lied.”

“Like you did about loving me?”

“Y/N, please.” He whispers, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t leave you? Don’t kick you out of the only family you’ve ever known?” You hiss, raking a hand through your hair, “Sam-”

“I was wrong!” He bursts out, “I was so, so wrong Y/N. I don’t… I do… I love you, okay? I always have and I always will. I was trying to keep you safe but… safe is… I don’t know what safe is.”

“Sam, are you drunk?”


“Then get your ass down here so I can… I don’t know. Kick you, kill you, or kiss you. One or the other.” You find yourself laughing, despite the tears running down your face. After reeling off the location, you hang up, your head spinning. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just hope, but you know one thing.

You thought it was the end, but now you realise… it’s just another beginning.