can i just sleep and never awake

2

Not that I’ve been losing sleep over it, but sometimes I do lie awake thinking about all the asks and replies I get regarding this subject. I mean, honestly, you fawn over one dashing magizoologist and suddenly everyone’s dropping the G word! It seems like ever since I started this blog, that’s been the case. You lot are rather insistent that I’m all these different things, these labels, some of which I’ve never even heard of before! Can’t we just leave it at being obsessed with a girl who doesn’t fancy me and having the deepest admiration for an iconic historical figure? Goodness.

Goodnight Texts: ReggiexReader! Oneshot

Hey guys! I dunno, I had this idea but I’m not too happy with how I executed it in this oneshot. More oneshots will be coming soon so sorry if this is bad!

Summary: (Y/N) can’t sleep so decides to text her boyfriend Reggie. This slowly turns into a mini sexting session.

Warnings: NSFW, I guess? Allusions to smut. Cussing.

Originally posted by joeck

(gif not mineeeee)

Keep reading

You know what?? I want a story where Shiro can’t keep his hands to himself. Fuck slow pinning bs, I want Shrio to wake up one day and see Lance all sleepy with his shirt riding up his stomach as he streches. I want Shiro’s first thought to be ‘thats mine’ then shake himself even more awake because , really self?? And he stammers when Lance askes him if he wants more coffee. I want Shiro to start PRAISING LANCE like the ground was made for him to the point where even Hunk is like 'dude chill’. I want Lance to be there for Shiro is his time of need in the middle of the night when no else is awake so Lance, who can never sleep wtf dude, just meets him, they both watch the stars move around them and Lance hums a song his mama taught him and bam - Shiro is asleep like that. (Best sleep he ever got.)

I want Lance to corner Shiro because he has such a large family and he just KNOWS when someone is upset and at first Shrio is annoyed, until he starts to really talk to Lance. Then all his problems seem so small because Lance makes the problem solving so easy.

I want Shiro to do a double take because, first of all, why is it ALWAYS Lance that goes on undercover missions. SECOND WHO GAVE LANCE PRIMSSION TO LOOK THAT GOOD. Pidge is disgusted.

It gets to the point where the WHOLE team has to help.

Allura keeps hinting at Lance that marriage is always a good choice. (Lance doesn’t get it - okay Allura marry whoever you want sheesh).

Coran keeps pulling Shiro aside with weirder and weirder threats. (“You hurt him and I will do what a gorasack does to a teleflob.”…“O…kay???”)

Hunk just smiles at Shiro before crushing metal in his bare hands. Shiro gets the message.

Pidge gives both the evil eye for like a week before saying “don’t hurt him” which just CONFUSES BOTH.

Keith tried to threaten Lance, but Lance took it as a challenge.

Either way it takes Shiro ages to admit to himself. Then to Lance, that he loves him.

Meanwhile the team already knew and planned it way in advance.

BTS Reaction: Their S/O talks in their sleep.
  • Kim Seokjin/Jin:
  • You while sleeping: Here. Kitty.
  • Jin: ??
  • Jin: meow?
  • You: -Snoring-
  • Jin: You made me say meow to no one and embarrass myself.
  • Jin: I don't know how you Manage to do this even in your sleep.
  • Jin: Stob it.
  • You: Hmm? Jin? Stop talking to the air, I'm sleeping.
  • Jin: -Deep breath- IwillnotthrowmygirlfriendIwillnot-
  • Min Yoongi/Suga:
  • YG: -Listens-
  • You: Jae6
  • YG: You need to unfollow Jae and his meme fans.
  • YG: I should have never introduced you to them.
  • You: Rock
  • YG: Where did that even come from?
  • You: ShhhH
  • YG: Ah so you're awake
  • You: -Actually Sleeping-
  • YG: I don't think I can process what just happened. Even in your sleep you have the audacity to shush me.
  • Jung Hoseok/J-Hope:
  • JH: -Pinches your cheeks-
  • You: -Somehow targets his cheeks and slaps em-
  • JH: My butt wasn't even in range. Confess you're awake.
  • You: Pretty
  • JH: We are having a long and serious conversation when you wake up.
  • JH: What are you even dreaming about?
  • You: -Sleeping-
  • JH: Fine then don't answer. -Bitter-
  • You: -smacks him-
  • JH: HoW???
  • Kim Namjoon/Rap Monster:
  • RM: Cute Cute Cute
  • You: Cute
  • RM: Namjoon is great
  • You: Grape
  • RM: No. Great!
  • You: Grape
  • RM: I shouldn't have gone purple for Not Today.
  • You: Grapejoon
  • RM: This is unbelievable. -Shakes you and realizes you're actually saying this in your sleep-
  • RM: In your sleep you insult me, This is not okay.
  • Park Jimin/Jimin:
  • JM: -Finds it odd but cute- What could you be dreaming about?
  • You: I.. Bub..ble
  • JM: You're not a bubble well at leat last time I checked you were human.
  • You: J apeach
  • JM: Oh no. I know where this is going no—
  • You: Jimin is apeach
  • JM: I'm not..
  • You: Jpeach
  • JM: I'm begging of you, don't remember this. I don't want to be Jpeach on your contacts.
  • Kim Taehyung/V:
  • TH: YOU'RE SO ADORABLE. I HAVE SUCH A CUTE GIRLFRIEND.
  • You: Tae
  • TH: Ohh?
  • You: lunch
  • TH: ?
  • You: plunge
  • TH: Tae plunge? Tae Lunch?
  • TH: -On Google typing- Should I be worried if my girlfriend is calling me a plunge.// What does it mean to be my girlfriends lunch?
  • Jeon Jungkook/Johnkook:
  • You: Memekook
  • JK: Stop acting asleep
  • You: Kookie
  • JK: -Shakes you around-
  • You: -Still asleep- Bad
  • JK: Oh my god you're actually sleeping.
  • You: Jung
  • JK: kook?
  • You: yuck
  • JK: Watch me block you on all my socials. Just watch.

Aries: At some point, you have to open up again. You have to stop pushing everyone who tried to get close to you away, because while you like being alone right now, you’re going to hate being lonely when the cold sets in. Winter is coming, my dear.

Taurus: Bandage your wounds yourself. Don’t let their sweet words be poison dripping onto already open wounds, and do not let them trick you into a sweet daydream that will be twisted into a nightmare. You know better than that, and it’s time you started showing it.

Gemini: I know that you hate what you see every day in the mirror and it makes you want to destroy yourself, but sweetheart, you truly are a beautiful work of art. I just wish you could see that, because you can look at anyone else and see that their eyes light up when you walk into the room.

Cancer: Do not let someone control you like that ever again. Never let someone’s word have such a big say over your life again, because it’ll only lead you right back into every place you’ve been trying to escape from. Take this as a lesson, and move on.

Leo: Close your eyes; it’s time to finally sleep. I know you’ve been to hell and back, and your nightmares seem to haunt you even more when you’re awake, but you can rest now. You’ve won this war, you’re the survival story, and it’s time for sleep now.

Virgo : Please find your self worth, wherever you’ve hid it. Even if it’s at the bottom of the bottle you keep hidden under your car seat, or in that pipe that resides in your nightstand drawer, or in the lips of the girl you don’t fucking love, find yourself again and know that you’re stronger than all the shit you’ve gone through.

Libra: Stop obsessing over the thoughts of every past you could have had, and of all of the bridges you never quite walked on, and be happy with the road you are on, because looking back will never serve you or them any good. It’s time to get your knees to stop shaking and start moving forward again.

Scorpio: It’s time you stopped using your thoughts to cut yourself open again and again. Stop using your memories to find brand new ways to hate yourself, it’s time to stop using the past like an exacto knife, and time to use it to smile, for everything that happened and everything it caused.

Sagittarius: It’s okay that you can’t seem to find your home, and that your skin still feels like a jail cell. You’ve been fighting demons for so long that you don’t know what peace really feels like, and I am so proud of you and everything you’ve done. It will be okay, my love, you are truly a hero.

Capricorn: Maybe those ghosts that you’ve been trying so desperately to keep locked inside your closet and gagged with old t-shirts, are truly trying to help you instead of hurt you once more, and it’s finally time to sit up and listen, because they know you and they know how to help.

Aquarius: Yes, they still think of you. Yes, they still miss you. But now it really doesn’t matter, because you’ve already burned that bridge, and ran so far away from all the things you’ve done, going back now would be pointless. You made the right choice, now please start acting like you know it.

Pisces: Stop trying to run away from everything good in your life, and everything precious that you dearly love, simply because you’re so terrified of destroying what little good exists in your world. The good that exists is there to stay. You can not destroy it. It is not glass, it is not fragile; you can not run from this.

—  This week’s horoscope

I was thinking the other day about Solas and what it might be like to be a Dreamer Mage - someone who is completely aware and cognizant during the dreams they have, exactly as if they were still awake - and it sounds like it would have advantages, but overall it sounds pretty miserable to me.

Like, you need to sleep and just not be conscious sometimes. Sleeping and dreaming gives you a reset where you have to forget and let go of everything you’re worrying about, at least while you’re asleep.

But if you’re an accomplished Dreamer, sleeping is a lot like being consciously awake, so you get this picture of Solas (who is weighed down with guilt and the weight of several worlds) going to sleep, dreaming… but not really. Because there’s never a moment where he’s not “awake” and aware of everything. If we accept these assumptions, Solas apparently goes from working and researching and studying during the day to searching and discussing heavy things with friends in the Fade at night. He’s not only overwhelmed with regret and horrifying responsibilities, there’s also no good way to turn the full comprehension of all of that off for even a little while.

apparently he doesn’t drink often, either (word of god from twitter a long time ago, iirc, is that he avoids tea, coffee and alcohol, anything that interferes with sleep) so there’s few times where he’d forget through drunkenness.

So, my understanding, as far as I can extrapolate, is that this tightly-coiled, guarded man has spent thousands of years sober, awake, fully aware. Goes to sleep, but still remains fully aware while sleeping. No breaks from himself, no real escape.

I feel like it could explain some things about the way the character is presented - he just seems tired to me. Master of dreams, but never well-rested. Suspicious, guarded, on-edge, no way to work unconsciously through his many traumas, too prepared for 1000 different eventualities, too much conscious time on his hands. I love this character.

That moment when you realize

I want to do die after this discovery

Let’s also talk about how Aelita and Allura are both elf people (aelita only in loyko tho) with stripes on their face clinging to memories of their father that they lost to an evil enemy that wanted to control a super weapon. They were then frozen in cryo for like, a bazilion years in a magic pod only to be discovered by the heros later, and both have some super magic like ability, with aelita being able to access the towers to go back in time, and allura being able to send their ship to where-ever they want to go through space.

Accompanied by your local nerd with glasses that can hack anything and everything, even a foreign super computer in a matter of minutes, the flirt sharp shooter that flirts with every new girl they meet, the emo one that fights with a sword and is way too serious and never talks to anyone about their problems, that black haired (probably japanese on shiros part? I mean his name, like, come on) serious character that takes things so hard you just want to protect them.

I got nothing on Hunk someone help me out here.

ask-the-holiday-nightguards  asked:

Okie. I think it was yours that was about Lance's about Lance's home life with the abusive father. And that got me thinking about a different take on it. What if, his father promised his mother a lot of things. Going to college (if they could) after he did. Never having to work a day in her life after he couldn't send her to college. Getting to go on a vacation after they raise enough money and then not being able to do that ect. (1/2)

After Lance turns 13, he hears his parents argue every night about funds and gets the brute end of it. With him being the one who has to care for his younger siblings because his older siblings have all left for different reasons. Ending is up to you (2/2)
~~~~~
Oh okay!! This is really cool and interesting. I hope you like it!!
~~~~~
We all have little problems about ourselves that we just can’t help. Some people have a problem with lying, while others may have trouble with stealing. Lance’s dad problem was always making promises. More specifically, promises he couldn’t keep. Ever since Lance could remember, he could always hear his dad making promises to his mama.
“Mi amor, I promise that when the kids go off to college, I’ll do the same. Get an education to create a better living for ourselves.”
“Marcia, I promise you that I will take you and our family on a grand vacation. Take a break from the beach and go somewhere with grassy plains and mountains as far as we can see.”
But he would never keep them. It wasn’t his fault really. It just that all the promises he made had something to do with money. Money they didn’t have. Lance knew this from the late night arguments that would often wake him and his younger siblings awake. He would round them all up, and tuck them back into their shared bed, whispering small reassurances, lulling them to sleep. Lance would then creep down the stairs, wincing every time the old wooden steps creaked underneath his feet. He slowly lowered himself on the stairway, sitting on the steps. He could see the shadows of his mom and dad in the kitchen, safe from their view.
“Diego, we can’t afford this. We’re struggling to pays the bills as is, and we were late last month. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Marcia, it will be okay! I promise-”
“No!! I’ve had it with your ‘promises!’ The promise you never keep, that fill me with false hope!” His mother hisses.
“Well what do you expect me to do? I’m doing everything that I can! If Lance would grow up and get a job, he could help the family out!”
“You know that Lance does plenty around the house. He the oldest now since his older siblings left and gotten married! He watches the younger kids. He helps me so much. Cooks dinner, cleans, puts the children to rest. What more can he do?”
“He can get. A. Job. Something to get money from! Work at the local market or farm! He could put that prodigy brain of his to use and find a way to make money!Anything!”
Lance shakily let out a breath. He eyes began to sting, and he could feel the water begin to form. He would do anything to help his family.
Marcia let out a long sigh. “We will work this out, Diego. But for now, let’s get back to bed. We’re lucky we didn’t wake the children. Again.”
Lance held his breath as he listen to his parents footstep fade away to their bedroom. Lance let a few tears escape as he slowly made his way back to bed, legs lightly shaking and his jaw set. He would find a way to help provide for his family. Even if it killed him.
~~~~~
A few days later, Lance walked down the sandy beaches of his home to get the mail that his mother asked him to. His hands were in his pockets as he kicked up sand and whistled a random tune. When he got to their rusty old mailbox, he brushed away the dust and the beginnings of a cobweb. When he reached in to retrieve the mail, he felt a thick envelope. Curious, he took it out, flipping it around him in hands, trying to find the addressor. With wide, disbelieving eyes, he ran his fingers over the top the envelop. Addressed to him personally was a letter from the Garrison.

*****
(Hint hint wink wink: this melts in with my Prodigy Lance Fic near the end)*****

anonymous asked:

fuck please write that fic of mercy talking in her sleep that would be amazing! but you gotta have pharah's reactions from the first time it happens all the wtfs, to the times where it's happened so often she's just 'sure babe' so used to it "this is MY yoghurt satan" 'you tell him'

okay i did it. inspired by you, anon, and this post



Fareeha cracked an eye open in the darkness, unsure of what had woken her up.

She felt a pressure on her back, and quickly realized Angela had curled up around her from the side. This new arrangement toed the line between comfortable spooning and sardine impersonation.

“Mmm,” Angela mumbled. “You have a sexy butt.”

She was awake? “There are probably better times to tell me that, but I’m glad you like it,” Fareeha said.

No response.

Fareeha stifled a laugh. Angela must have fallen asleep again.

Fareeha shuffled a bit and got comfortable—she was nearly asleep again when Angela muttered, “I’ll give you healing if you give me better chocolate.”

Was she…? “You’re awake?” Fareeha asked.

No response.

Angela clutched Fareeha tighter. “My pants are telling me lies,” she said urgently.

Fareeha blinked, mildly concerned, but mostly confused. Angela had never talked in her sleep before. “You’re not wearing pants, honey,” Fareeha said.

Seemingly mollified, Angela loosened her grip on Fareeha, mumbling softly in what sounded vaguely German. Her concluding sentence was the sole one in English: “Pants are an illusion, and so is death.”

That was when Fareeha started to find this all very amusing. She managed to contain her laughter in her pillow.

Angela was quiet for a moment, and then stated, suddenly, “That’s my yogurt, Satan.”

Fareeha laughed, now unable to contain her amusement if she tried. “You tell him, babe,” she said. After hearing rustling from Angela’s side, Fareeha tried to quiet down.

“What’s going on?” Angela asked, sounding much more like her usual conscious self, and Fareeha winced. Angela had always been a light sleeper.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Fareeha said, turning to face Angela. “You… do you know you were talking in your sleep?”

“What?” Angela looked bewildered. “I had no idea.”

“It was pretty funny, actually.”

“Oh, god. What did I say?”

Grinning, Fareeha pulled Angela close, and then, in a decent impersonation of her accent, said, “You have a sexy butt.”

“Noo,” Angela groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

“You did,” Fareeha said, laughing, and Angela hid her face in the pillow. “No need to be so embarrassed. I mean, you’ve said dirtier things to me while awake—“

Fareeha.”

“It also looks like Satan tried to steal your yogurt.”

“That bitch,” Angela said incredulously, smiling at her girlfriend who had already dissolved into laughter.

“I’ll fight him for you,” Fareeha said.

“Oh, lord. Please don’t. I can only imagine the injuries you’d get from that.”

“The yogurt thief must be brought to justice.”

Angela just laughed, tucking her head under Fareeha’s arm. “I admire your dedication.”

“Justice never sleeps,” Fareeha said.

“Yeah, well,” Angela hummed, yawning, “Mercy does.”

Fareeha breathed out a laugh. “Good night.”

“Love you,” Angela murmured before she fell asleep.

Not ten minutes later, Angela stated clearly:

“Hot ham water.”

It was going to be a long night.

Numb - Stiles Stilinski

Originally posted by jennchoblake

word count: 1932
summary: after the dread doctors take your soul, you’re just not you.  and it becomes more and more dangerous to yourself every day 
warnings:depression, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, swearing


You’d never felt a coldness like this before.  A numbing, empty, coldness in your chest.  It wasn’t the frostbitten-cover-your-skin-in-the-wintertime cold.  No, it was far worse.  

It was the Dread Doctors-ruined-my-life-and-now-I’m-nothing-cold.

Beginning the night of the storm, you were taken by them, and they removed something from you that you didn’t know could be physically operated to take away.  They took your happiness.  Your spirit, your charisma.  They took it away from you, and for weeks on end, you were trapped in a depression like no other.

It had confused the pack greatly, how the perky always brightside y/n l/n had gone from smiling to expressionless in the matter of a day.  And because of your wiped memory, you’d had no idea that what was once your soul, was stolen from you.  So when everyone kept asking you, begging you to brighten your eyes and tell them what was wrong, you’d tell them you were fine each day.  And they didn’t know how to fix you.

Lydia tried taking you shopping, all your favorite stores, offering to buy you a whole new wardrobe, give you a mani pedi, but what was once your girls’ favorite activities to do together just felt wrong and awkward.  Malia took you hiking, all your favorite places in the woods, but you never cracked a smile.  Kira made you a sushi dinner, remembering how much you enjoyed using chopsticks, but the confusion on your features just made her heart break.

But it was Stiles’ heart who was shattered.

His best friend, the only girl he could only fall in love with, wasn’t herself.  The dimpled angelic smile and glowing features looked so dull.  He practically saw you in black and white, when you used to be his ray of sunshine.  He tried everything, he took you for drives in Roscoe, made you dinner and cuddled you while watching your favorite movies, even the ones he despised but knew you adored.  He went and bought your favorite books for you to read, and when that didn’t seem to work he read them to you.  He brought you to dinners with his Dad, he took you on long walks late at night in the park (a secret thing that only you and him did).  He cracked jokes 25/8 in hopes of earning the smallest of smiles.  Nothing worked.

You were in a constant expressionless, barely alive, broken state.  And no one knew how to fix you.

And here you were, standing on the cliffside at the Beacon Hills Preserve, trying to think, trying to figure out what had happened to you that changed you so much.  You stepped out further, looking down at the fall beneath you.

“Help” You whispered softly, almost able to hear the echo of your voice bouncing down what must be a hundred foot drop.  You could see your breath hang in the air before dissipating.  You choked down a thick swallow, trying to fathom the horrid idea that crossed your mind.

This fall would end your suffering.


“Y/N!” Stiles screamed, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice as he sprinted faster than he ever has through the woods.  He knew you had to have come here.  

In the five minutes he left you in the living room alone while he’d gone to the kitchen, you had taken off.  When Stiles walked back to the couch, you were nowhere to be found, and the front door wide open.  He’d instantly contacted the entire pack and now they were scouring through the Preserve in search of you.  He could hear Scott and Malia howling in the distance.

Y/N PLEASE!” Stiles’ voice strained and cracked, but he didn’t care.  He just kept screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran.  The burn in his legs and stomach didn’t even matter, he didn’t care if he even puked he wouldn’t stop running in search of you.  The light of his flashlight bounced off the ground and trees, his arms moving frantically.

He was in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking like an idiot screaming and sobbing as he sprinted like there was no tomorrow through the woods, but he just didn’t care.

“Y/N!


You spun your head, your chest heaving as you squinted to see a light flashing around in the distance of trees.

“Stiles?” You whispered, trying to see what was coming towards you at a rapid speed.  When you didn’t hear another frantic scream, you turned back towards the ridge, your feet barely shuffling forwards.  You had to do this, you’d put everyone out of their misery, including yourself.  It’d be over fast, enough that you wouldn’t feel a single ounce of pain upon impact.  You had to do this

“Y/N!” You sucked in a breath, spinning around to see Stiles there, a mere ten feet away.  “y/n I need you to listen to me-”

“Don’t try to talk me out of this” You said, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.  Stiles nodded, holding out both of his hands in a form of surrender.


“I won’t” He whispered.  “But if you’re going to do this, I need you to know something” He told you, and waited for some form of response.  You only nodded.  “This, isn’t you” He said.

You opened your mouth to protest but didn’t get the chance to speak.  

“And I would know, because I know you better than anyone else, hell, I know you better than you know you, fact” He said, shooting his hand down in frustration.  “I know that you’re always tired, no matter what.  I know that you can’t have breakfast right after you wake up because you don’t get hungry for a while and you want to enjoy the meal to it’s fullest.  I know that you like to have the windows down in the car, even when it’s frickin’ ten degrees out.  I know as much as you say you hate it you love watching Star Wars, and I know you’ll never admit it to me for the sake of the argument.  I know that you have the brightest smile in Beacon Hills, even though we haven’t seen it in a while.  I know you’re afraid of the dark but you refuse to get any form of nightlight because you don’t want to succumb to the fear, you want to move on from it.  I know that you had a crush on Theo before he went bat shit crazy and tried to tear apart the pack, and I know what your feeling before you know what you’re feeling”

You blinked, your lips parted as new tears settled in your eyes.

“But damnit y/n,” Stiles stepped closer, and you didn’t stop him.  “If I lose you today without telling you that I know all these things because I’m hopelessly in love with you, then I will deliver myself to Theo and beg for him to rip me apart” He sighed heavily as you began crying in front of him.

Stiles continued, noticing how you were actually expressing feeling.  Even if it appeared to be sadness, at least it wasn’t your blankness.

“I know you were the ones who threw eggs at Jackson’s house when he beat me up freshman year, and I know you confessed to my Dad as soon as he was looking for the perp who’d done it.  I know you guys promised each other to keep your identity a secret if you promised not to let it happen” He confessed, and your eyes widened with surprise that he’d known the truth.  “He never told me, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just know” Stiles took one more small step forwards, going unnoticed by you.  “I know you get scared sometimes that you’ll be replaced by Scott, and I know when Lydia came into the picture, you were terrified, but you never told me”

I wanted to, your voice caught in your throat.  I wanted to tell you how afraid I was.

“I know you’re not sleep cuddling when you grab on to me during sleepovers.  I know you’re awake and that you wrap yourself completely around me so that you can sleep”

Stiles was close enough that if he extended his arm, he could touch you.

“y/n, if you do this, I will never be able to do anything I’ve dreamed of doing” Stiles admitted.  “I’ll never be able to muster the courage to ask you out, I’ll never be able to take you to some fancy restaurant and tell you how gorgeous you look, I’ll never be able to kiss you or hold you, I’ll never be able to wake up with you in my arms and just lay and tell you how much you mean to me.  I’ll never be able to drop on a knee one day and ask you to be mine forever, even though forever just isn’t quite enough time for me to have with you”

“I- all I’m doing is hurting you” You choked out to him finally.  “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore, I care about you too much to put you through this-”

“Then don’t do it” Stiles took a long stride forward, and you hesitantly shuffled backwards.  If you did so again, you’d wobble of the ledge.  “Come here, let me take you home” He whispered softly, and held out his hands to you.  “Let me warm you up and we can talk, we can talk about anything you want” He said, and you stared at his open palm, your fingers itching to grab onto it.

“I’m broken Stiles” You mumbled.  “I don’t know how to fix me”

He crossed the space between you, grabbing your hand in his, holding your small and cold hand between both of his,  He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss in your palm.

“Let me help you” He whispered, and after a second of staring at him, you nodded your head shakily.

“Okay” Your voice cracked as tears streamed down your cheeks.  “Okay” You sobbed, and as you moved towards him he embraced you tightly, pulling you as far back from the ledge as he could before he couldn’t move anymore, just wanted to stand and hold you.  Your hands were fisted into the collar of his hoodie, your face buried in it.  Stiles’ hands were running through your hair and rubbing your back so quickly, the fear of almost losing you still settled in his bones.

“Don’t ever do that again” He said, kissing your cheek and head a few quick times as he rocked you side to side, one of his arms tightening around your waist.  “You scared me so bad- I don’t know what I would’ve done without you y/n I can’t- I can’t do anything without you” Your hands released his shirt to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, then delve up and grip to the longer strands, pulling your face off of him to stare up into his eyes with your tear filled ones.

“I won’t” You said, pulling him down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, like it was a normal thing for the two of you to do, then hug him tightly again.  Stiles gripped onto you, not even having the time to bask in the taste of your soft lips against his.  He didn’t have the time for that, he was still focused on the relief of having you in his arms.

“Come on, we’re going home” He whispered in your hair.


you are BEAUTIFUL and you are WORTH IT!
and if you ever think otherwise, dm me.  bc you’re amazing.  and i will prove it to you.  i also like making friends 

xoxo ~ jordie

This is the first time in two years I’ve woken up to an election result and felt anything other than devastated.

(Okay, I’ll be fair: I had the feeling of “oh thank CHRIST maybe we’re coming back from the brink” when Macron beat Le Pen.) 

Unsure if this feeling is giddy relief and excitement or just the fact I had two hours’ sleep. Stayed awake biting my nails until it became obvious the exit polls were right, between 4 and 5 am. 

Okay. Okay. It’s a hung parliament. The Conservatives are technically the largest party, but they don’t have an overall majority - if all the other parties band together against them, they can be stopped. Why am I SO FUCKING HAPPY, even though technically the Conservatives won?

  • Labour were never going to win this. The Conservatives won 99 more seats in 2015. It was a landslide. Realistically, Labour could not expect to take 99 seats + 1 off them in eight weeks of campaigning. (I’d say two years, but most of those were implosions and infighting. The Labour Party has been pulling together as one for eight whole weeks.) The only three outcomes were 1) Tories maintain or increase their majority, 2) the Tories have a reduced but still functional majority, or 3) we drag them all the way back down to a hung parliament, coalition numbers, 2010 numbers. Barring actual divine intervention, this was the best case scenario. This is actually what winning looks like. 

  • Until last night’s exit poll, this scenario looked nearly as unlikely as an outright win. All the polls said we were going for option 2. At the time the election was called, people thought it was option 1 and this would wipe out Labour as an opposition force. That was the whole point of May calling the election when she did. She had to jump through hoops to get it - we weren’t due until 2020. 

  • This is the starkest the political choice has been in years, and people chose well. May explicitly laid out her nastiest policies, the hardest Brexit, and said “vote in fear, and give me a mandate to do my worst”. And the electorate said “no”. On the highest turnout since 1997. On the right, this was a referendum on how nasty the Conservatives could go. People were clearly given the evil choice and, within the constraints of my first point, they said no. They said the loudest no that was realistic. 

  • Everything we’d been hearing from the ‘realistic’, ‘progressive’ left about Corbyn turned out to be crap. He’s unelectable? Labour have won more seats than they did in 2010 or 2015. Even die-hard Labour voters will stay home rather than vote for him? Turnout’s highest it’s been since 1997. On the left, this was a referendum on how progressive Labour could get and still be successful. It was the most explicitly left-wing manifesto they’ve had in decades. It’s twenty years since - the received wisdom goes - Blair won a Labour landslide by moving right (personally, I think the Tories were in such a terrible position early-to-mid-90s that the 1997 election could’ve been won by a pot of yoghurt and a Canada goose). The Labour gamble was “okay, all you people who’ve been saying there’s a lot of voters who find us too right-wing and demand real opposition to neo-liberalism: prove it. Find them.” We proved it. We found them. 

  • Because the Conservatives demand top-down strong leadership in a way that Labour don’t, this will probably be the end of May’s prime ministerial career. She made it clear that the election was about whether the electorate backed her leadership of the country. Whoops. People may want to start counting for Galbraith’s Law purposes (anyone who says they won’t resign four times, definitely will). And I’m trying to be even-handed about this because women - particularly conventionally unattractive, ambitious women - get unfair personal criticism. But she is, personally, a nasty piece of work. She loves the deporting. She hates the human rights. She was a nasty piece of work when she was voting against queer rights, she was a nasty piece of work when she was Home Secretary (in charge of prisons and borders, for the non-UK folks), and she is - please, was - a nasty piece of work as Prime Minister. I don’t know who or what will replace her - please god not Boris - but let June be the end of May. 

For the first time in twenty years, the Overton window has moved left. This is what hope feels like. And between this and the French result, maybe, just maybe, the sense that 2016 was the last excitable death throes of fascism, rather than the start of the slippery slope. 

Heathens- [smutandahalf]

A Scruffy Hoes Production

Author: smutandahalf

Rating: NSFW 18+

Words: 3599

Warning: This is darker than what I usually write. It doesn’t have any triggers but I just wanted you guys to know it’s different from my usual stuff.

A/N: Happy Halloween! Trick or Treat? That’s for you to decide..

Originally posted by genjjishimada

     There is something very wrong with Stiles Stilinski, something strange and dark. I glance over at him, sitting at his desk with his head pressed into his hands and his eyes clenched closed. I turn slightly looking around curious if anyone else has seemed to pick up on it. Something is wrong and not a single other person seems to notice, a cold trickle slides down my spine and I quirk my head at him curiously. How strange that he seems so invisible to them. Brushed to the side by his best friend who seems to jump in terror of his own shadow, invisible to the girl who has been clinging to his arms for weeks who has always seemed to be balancing precariously on the line between wild child and wild animal, and overlooked by his father who seems to be too focused on figuring out what is going on in this god forsaken town. Yes, something is very wrong with Stiles Stilinski, and yet no one seems to notice but me.

          The bell rings, and he’s out of his desk and through the door faster than I can blink. I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I gather my things, moving slowly as I deliberate on what I should do next. With a certain level of blind curiosity I decide that from this day on if no one else is going to notice him then I’ll be sure that I do. The unseen can always see the invisible.

Keep reading

I know you love me,” she said.
“I know that, but that doesn’t override the fact that I’m not good enough for you. And I’m not mad, I’m not mad at all. I should be, but I’m not. I don’t feel anger, just pain, a lot of pain. You know, you think you can handle it.. You know it’s gonna hurt when it’s over and you think you’re prepared for it but I swear to god nothing prepares you for just how much your heart aches in their absence and how you can’t sleep because your brain won’t turn off, instead you’re kept awake doing nothing but thinking of the colour of their eyes. You think you can cope, but the cold hard truth is, you’re wrong. You fall apart and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.
—  Excerpt of a book I’ll never write

anonymous asked:

how would you picture Harry and the Missus getting into a massive argument because all she wants is some time with him and to show him how proud she is of him but he hasn't been home since the release of Dunkirk - busy with promo, events and he's kinda blinded by the fame so it leads with them saying really cruel things and ends at a point where they're both just drained and exhausted, so they stop and both end up in different beds during the night, with tear stained cheeks and regret my heaRT

Christ, it’ll be so hot and heavy. 

Both red-faced and gesticulative with their hands as they tried to get the other to understand their point in the hot topic of conversation. Yelling and raising their voices when the other went against what was said or backfired with something sassy that only egged the fight on further. Swearing and cursing and name-calling the other and mumbling underneath their breaths. Insisting that the sight of the other made them feel sick and that they couldn’t bear to spare them a look. And they’re both so cruel to one another. They don’t mean to be but the heat of the moment is upon them and neither of them are thinking clearly before projecting what springs to their mind and jumps from their tongues.

“If you can’t stand the sight of me, why the fuck are you still here in front of me, huh?” He hisses, eyes fiery and burning into her as he glares at her with a look she hadn’t seen before; slightly scaring her as his feet edged towards her across the carpet of the bedroom, “there’s a spare room at the end of the hall that I can hear calling for you. Might want to stay in there tonight.”

“Funny because I can hear it calling your name, you tosser,” she grumbles back, brushing passed him to walk into the en-suite, preparing to get herself ready for bed and hoping that she wouldn’t see him when she came back out. Except she’s cut short when she feels his hand around her wrist, pulling her back to him. It’s not a tight hold but it’s a hold that’s strong enough to stop her movements, “let me go. Now.”

“Get out and use the bathroom down the hallway,” he mutters, stepping across the floor with her wrist still in his hold, softly letting her go when she was in the hallway, “I don’t want to see you right now. I don’t even want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

“Can I at least go in and get my clothes for bed? My toothbrush and face creams?” She frowns at him when he shakes his head, her eyebrows knitting together when the light cut off from her view, the door closing before her. Fuelling anger inside her that had been bubbling away in her chest for hours that evening, “you’re a wanker! You’ll be lucky if I’m here in the morning!”

“You’ll be doing me a favour if you’re not here when I wake up!”

And that’s that.

The end of the ongoing argument.

The both of them falling silent.

Her eyes widen and so do his. Her chest aches and so does his. His chin wobbles and so does hers. Her throat aches and so does his. His heart thuds with guilt behind his ribs and so does hers.

She saunters off to the end of the hallway whilst Harry falls to their bed, feet pressed to the bedroom floor as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbing at the aching sting that lingered around his orbs. His palms becoming damp from the tears that he didn’t want to let fall. He hears the slam of the spare room door down the hall, matching the thud of his heart, and all he wants to do is shoot up and apologise.

She doesn’t bother getting herself dressed that night. Doesn’t even bother with going to the toilet or brushing her teeth. She can’t find the motivation to get up after everything, burying her face into the pillow and allowing her emotions to be let free, sprawled out in her jeans and a shirt atop the duvet that no one had used - and she hadn’t planned on being the first.

It’s 4am when she hears the creak outside the bedroom door. The room a little lighter than when she’d fallen asleep, the daylight beginning behind the curtains and she already knows that the day is going to be as dull as she feels. Grey and moody and dull and plain. The door being pushed open before a body lays down behind her, sprawled on their back and making the mattress squeak.

“Are you, uh, are you asleep?”

His voice sounded broken. Tired. Raspy. And croaky. Scratchy, too, she can work out. And it takes everything in her not to turn onto her side and hold him. 

But he knows she’s awake. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the darkness, pausing for a brief moment to clear his throat from the lump that was beginning build up, “I can’t sleep without you in bed. Made a pact, didn’t we? Never going to go to bed angry, no matter how big the argument is between us. Didn’t mean anything of what I said. I’m a shit partner and you proved that to me and I just didn’t want to take it because I felt guilty as it is. Knew I was neglecting you for my work and I shouldn’t’ve done that.”

He pauses, sniffling softly and taking a deep intake of breath before continuing.

“I love you. God, I love you so much. I’ve been panicking since we split ways tonight and I’m just,” his voice wavers, “I’m just so sorry. I promise to be here more often for you. For us. I promise to be the best partner from here on out and I promise to put you first when necessary. You deserve the best in life and, sometimes, I just don’t think I’m enough for you.”

“I want you though. You’re more than enough for me,” she breaks her silence, “arguments happen between couples. We’ve argued before. Granted this one was heavier than normal, but we always find a way back to one another. We always do.”

She rolls over and cuddles into his side, feeling his hold on her tighten as he relaxes knowing that she was safe and back into the place he loved having her. Lips buried into hair as she clings to the t-shirt on his torso.

“I love you, Harry. That won’t change. Arguments and bickers and all. Nothing changes the fact that I love you with my entirety.” xx

Delivery

Summary: Shawn makes Brian hand deliver a care package to y/n because y/n is stressed and Shawn can’t do it himself because he is out of the country. 

Requested: First off I just wanna say that your work is amazing ! It’s my favourite. Lately I’ve been feeling like everything is crashing down on me. I feel like I never get a beak with school, work, worrying, just everything ! Can you do an imagine where Shawn notices you’ve been acting differently because everything’s just a little too much and makes you feel better? Thank you :)

~~~

Sleep. Sleep would be nice, but who has time to sleep anymore? Certainly not you. With work, school, exams, and so much to worry about, you can’t seem to catch a break. Even when you do have the time to sleep, you can’t because you’re so stressed. And every other second you’re awake, it is like you have a never-ending list of things that you need to get done. You’re trying so hard to just keep on going, but it’s hard, so hard. 

When your phone buzzes on your desk with a text you automatically glance at it. Good morning love it reads, from your boyfriend of course.

You just smile a bit because it’s nearly ten at night where you are, but he’s just woken up. You type a quick reply, morning babe. You’d love to talk to him, but you have so much to still do before you can even think of taking a break, much less going to bed. 

Keep reading

We were a ticking time bomb.

Preparing for the end before we even began
Trying to figure out how we’ll call it quits
But making sure to never fall asleep without a goodnight kiss

We were a ticking time bomb
We knew this wouldn’t last
Doing 10 mph wondering are we moving too fast ?
Yet we told each other everything
Patched the cuts and healed the bruises
As long as when it got too serious we could distance ourselves with useless excuses

We were a ticking time bomb
Just waiting to explode
Our words and actions never quite matched up
No matter how much we tried it just never felt enough

We were a ticking time bomb
Most of “us” was a mistake
Sleep walking through this
convincing ourselves we were awake

I know you’re out there reading this
and I know I came to mind
I’m sorry you can relate
To such a lingering and devastating heartache

— 

Rafelina Michelle

Ig : Rafelina_Michelle

Taekook rant:

Honestly, i always say lol taekook are boyfriends and real as shit and stuff but the thing i can mostly imagine that might have happened at one point is them sleeping next to each other (which they evidently do more or less often), being tired and drowsy and having this moment where they are comfy and like/ want to be really close to each other, its silent and they’re just breathing, almost being asleep but awake enough to cherish the fact that they can share this closeness in peace.
Maybe they even kissed like really short & soft and never talked about it afterwards bc there is no necessity and it just fits into their definition of closeness and some things just need to stay unspoken or are even unclear. Because i think especially with Taehyung things like that would feel normal and honest because thats how he expresses his affection anyway.
So they always have this need to be physically close but in a way where there is not too much emotional drama because thats something everyone (including us fans) would have caught onto sooner or later. But what we can see is that they are comfortable and they have this look ???? Its like watching a series where you know they are a side pairing and nobody cares to explain what happens behind closed doors….

So long story short: i think they are accidentally Kind of gay for/with each other but think its their kind of friendship or sth lmao does that make sense?

Mo

Mirror For The Sun - Part 2: Cedar Point

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 1  -  Part 3

Summary: Series: Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other. 

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2057

Author’s Note: I LOVED Cedar Point as a kid, but hubby pointed out to me while I was writing this on the road that not everyone knows what it is… I think I’ve explained it in the fic, but if not, google it and be jealous. It’s mind-blowing. Ok I added this gif after because it totally looks like a roller coaster harness…

Originally posted by pxggycxrters


“Okay! Okay! I recognize this!” Y/N shouts slapping my arm absentmindedly as she leans forward between the front seats. “Go left up here.”

I had been pleasantly sleeping before this rude awakening. I groggily force myself more upright and swat her hand away “Stop hitting me.”

She stops, but doesn’t answer me in any other way. She doesn’t lean back to include me or tell me where we were, or even turn her head in the slightest to acknowledge me. Shit. I’ve really pissed her off. I thread my hand into my hair, pushing it off my face and catch Steve’s warning glare in the mirror. I can practically hear his mom-voice ‘You don’t have to snap at her Buck, she’s just excited.’

Keep reading

Shit APH Australia Does #45

Set his world meetings in the weirdest named and most inconvenient places whenever it’s his turn to host them

Trouble Sleeping

Originally posted by berezneva-tw

Requested by Anon.

Request: Hey, could you please write a Derek Hale x reader where the reader is insomniac and is having great trouble sleeping and Derek wakes up because his werewolf senses notices that she’s awake? He tries to help her but realizes he can’t and just lays down and cuddle with her instead, making her feel loved? If you do it, thank you, if you don’t thank you for reading anyways.   Btw it’s my birthday today!!!          

A/N: Happy birthday!  


I was lying in bed with my boyfriend, Derek, and I just couldn’t fall asleep. I had insomnia, so it was really hard for me to fall asleep, and I never told Derek about. He never asked and the last thing that I need is Derek worrying about how much sleep I’m getting. 

I was comfortable in the position that I was in, so I closed my eyes, hoping that I would be able to fall asleep. My hoping did nothing. It seemed like forever that I lied there. I didn’t know what else to do. 

All of a sudden, Derek started to move. Even though I had not been moving, I lied as still as possible and closed my eyes. If he was awake and he found out that I was awake, then he would do everything he could to make me go to sleep. Then I would have to explain everything to him.

“Y/N? What are you doing awake?” He asked sleepily. I didn’t reply. I just lay there unmoving. “Y/N, I know that you’re awake.”

I looked up at him. “I’m fine, I just couldn’t fall asleep. Go back to bed.” 

“What can I do to help you fall asleep?” He asked. 

“Nothing, Derek. Thanks though.” 

“There must be something.”

“Derek, I have to tell you something, but you have to promise me not to get worried about me.” I say seriously.

“Okay?”

“Derek, I have insomnia. It’s hard for me to go to sleep. I’ve tried almost everything to help me to go to sleep over the years, but nothing works. I want you to just go back to sleep. There’s nothing that you can do for me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry about me. Just go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry that I never noticed before.”

“Derek, it’s not your fault. Go to sleep.”

Derek turned on his side and snuggled deeper into the pillows, and I snuggled into the pillow as well. “I love you, Derek.”

“I love you too.”

We stayed like that in each others arms for the rest of the night, and into the morning. And for the first time in days, I actually fell asleep.