crappy advice

them..

A List.

In celebration of me living on my own for almost exactly a year now, here’s a list.

If you’re a mentally 12 yo person who suddenly finds themselves in a flat of their own and has no idea how to adult, hi! Me too. Here’s a list of things I’ve realised are essential p much from the start:

  • some sort of paper towel. Toilet paper, napkins, anything. You can do a lot of cleaning with just paper towels. 
  • Toast. Toast is my best friend. You don’t need any of the other foods, as long as you have some toast.
  • (A toaster. Not as important as the toast itself, but makes all the difference in enjoying it. Also makes you feel like you’re an adult for some reason?? I mean, you’ve got a toaster. V adult.)
  • At least one pot/pan.
  • RUBBISH BAGS. OTHER PLASTIC BAGS. KEEP H&M BAGS FROM YOUR LATEST SHOPPING IF YOU CAN’T FIND ANYTHING ELSE BUT YOU’RE GONNA NEED PLASTIC BAGS.
  • (unless you’re vegan) Milk. You wouldn’t believe how many things you need milk for, and how fast it’s all gone. (Maybe this one’s just me though. I love milk)
  • (again, if you’re non-vegan) EGGS! YOU CAN MAKE SO MUCH OUT OF EGGS. YOU CAN MAKE SCRAMBLED EGG, HARDBOILED EGG, PANCAKES, COOKIES, CAKE, YOUR OWN BREAD okay, maybe that’s for later. But have eggs. They also almost never go bad if you keep them cold enough
  • Coffee. Even if you don’t like coffee (wtf) you’re gonna want coffee. You’re an adult now. You’re gonna have people visit you, and, presuming you’re not the most social person in the world, you’ll want to be able to do something other than talk. Making coffee is a great excuse to move around, and won’t even seem rude! Also you’ll need coffee because seriously, how else do people survive
  • I have realised that this has almost solely been about food up to this point. And food is important, but you know what’s even more important? Sleep.
  • BUY A BED. A REAL BED. NO, NOT JUST A MATTRESS. Honestly, you’re gonna want a bed. You’re not gonna want to buy one, but do it. It’s worth it. And when you’ve purchased one, ASSEMBLE IT. OR MAKE YOUR FRIENDS ASSEMBLE IT. DON’T SIT ON THE CARTONS FOR THREE WEEKS. 
  • Something to organise your clothes in. Doesn’t have to be a huge wardrobe, maybe just a clothes rag and some boxes/a shelf. NOT the boxes from your move. That’s gonna turn into the biggest mess real soon, believe me this one took me way too long
  • More than one mug.
  • Plates. Also more than one. Because IF you ever decide to show off your phenomenal cooking abilities, it’s a real bummer to find out you’ve got nothing to present your perfectly reheated chicken nuggets on.
  • At least one big mixing bowl. You don’t even know how many things you’re gonna want to mix. But you’re a free person now, so, as long as you’ve got a bowl, you can do about anything! But don’t eat an entire bowl of raw cookie dough. Just don’t. Seriously.
  • Sponges. You’re gonna need so many sponges. Also soap. Also more sponges.
  • Scented candles. Because scented candles are great.

I’m by no means an expert, but I have survived on my own for almost a year now, so basically I just wanna pet myself on the shoulder for that thanks me @ me u survived

A post about the show 13 reasons why and why I don’t like Hannah Baker.

By the end of the first episode I really didn’t like Hannah. This didn’t change, not even when I felt emphaty. I’m really sorry if I’m one of the bad guys, I’m really sorry if I end up offending someone. But, remember, I’m a flawed person too. A person who needs to write her thoughts now.

The tapes: for me, revenge. As I see it, the tapes were Hannah’s way to get revenge on everyone who hurt her. They were not about explaining, making people understand, showing how people change. No, they were about payback and haunting. And if you want to tell me otherwise, I’m all ears. People told me she wanted to leave an explanation. She didn’t. Because the ones who deserved the explanation more than anyone were her parents, yes, the ones who were broken in a million pieces after her death. In fact, I cannot forgive Hannah Baker for killing part of her parents when she died in that bathtub.

Justin: we learn how Justin started everything, everything that lead her to her death. Yeah. But we also see how messed up his life was. The reason for him to act like an idiot. I grew fond of Justin. I understood him in some ways. I cannot defend him, I cannot say it was OK, none of it was. He did terrible things but in the end… He was so troubled I don’t think he could distinguish between right and wrong at any point. I feel weird cause, after all he did to Hannah and Jess, I have the strange emphaty towards him. Maybe I’m like him in some way, maybe I’m the kind who allows things to happen.

Jess: Jess was wrecked by the tapes. She went through hell. And maybe she wasn’t a good friend. But neither was Hannah. Telling everyone how Jess got raped and couldn’t even remember it was not fair at all. Saying Jess destroyed the friendship by herself was low. And I’ll defend Jess, yeah, cause no one did, cause Hannah pointed her finger but, apparently, she didn’t fight too hard to keep the friendship. Also, friends come and go, I’m sorry to say. And you cannot, ever, blame someone for your suicide because this person grew apart and couldn’t be a real friend to you for too long.

Zach: shit with Zach was weird, I’m gonna defend him too. He had things of his own, and he really liked her, apparently, she didn’t give him a chance. And he wasn’t mean to her cause he “didn’t get what he wanted”, he was mean in response to her being an asshole, too. So, Hannah can be hurt and be an idiot, but if the others do the same, they are monsters?

Marcus: total asshole. Tipical teenager. He didn’t care much. But he didn’t deserve to be tormented either.

Sheri: wtf? She did one thing wrong and this is proof the world is fucked up and a reason to kill yourself? The girl was nothing but kind and was ate by guilt before and after the tapes, did she deserve to be haunted like this? I don’t think so.

Courtney: one more that was judged because she wasn’t a real friend and didn’t want to be so, either. Can you blame her? No. She wasn’t true to herself? Maybe. Who am I to judge? Who was Hannah? Courtney was an idiot but she didn’t deserve to be exposed.

Ryan: another idiot, yes. Bad behaviour, selfish and all. Does he deserve to live his life thinking he was a reason for someone to commit suicide? I don’t think so. He deserved to pay for his actions, he deserved to know he acted wrong. But in the end he was just an idiot who didn’t try to destroy her in any way.

Tyler: the one who really needed some therapy. He was always bullyed and laughed at, even by Hannah. He had some real problems and carrying responsibility for her suicide would lead to some things that are much bigger than what was already shown. So, this is just an example of the consequences of the tapes.

Bryce: didn’t get to listen to the tapes. We never learn why Bryce was like he was. We never see him being punished and Hannah punishes everyone but him. So Clay has to do it for her. She wanted someone to fight for her and that I understand, mainly because I cannot imagine how she felt. Do I blame Bryce? For many things, yes. For her suicide? No. Because she doesn’t put all the blame in him. He’s not the last drop so at some point she thought she could handle things in a different way, she didn’t.

Mr Porter: he was not more than a counselor, and he cannot carry responsibility for her suicide. Was he good as a counselor? Probably not. Was he useful? Not at all. Everyone is fighting their own battles day after day, he was too, and that’s why he wasn’t there for her. How could he know? Can he be guilty because he gave a crappy advice and didn’t go after her like she wanted? I don’t think so. She left. That’s on her.


Clay: she put Clay through hell, for what? FOR WHAT? he felt like crap, he felt guilty, he faced some shit he clearly didn’t deserve to. So, why? Listening to the tapes was pure torture to Clay. She affected him for good and that doesn’t seem fair at all. She put him in danger, a danger he didn’t deserve. Torturing Clay was low, and I cannot accept it, I cannot like Hannah Baker when I know she was totally aware of how bad the tapes would hit Clay.

Alex: the ultimate consequence… The list was a childish stupid shit to do, yes. Going to the boy’s locker room was too. Why did she do that? She wasn’t allowed there and it was obvious they would talk even more after that. Blaming him for destroying Hannah and Jesse’s friendship? Unfair and stupid. Alex was a thunderstorm, he had so much going on inside his head, he couldn’t even handle Hannah’s thunder, or anything else, to be honest. I would have liked to learn more about him… After all, Hannah’s suicide lead to his. So, are we to blame Hannah the way she blamed him? Alex couldn’t handle the pressure, the guilt and he gives all the signs, he silently walks to his death and noone sees it, no one cares. So what good did the tapes do? They didn’t prevent anything, on the contrary, they lead to destruction and more and more pain. Hannah wanted to be a ghost seeking revenge and she got it.

The parents: the ones who are fucked up without doing anything, without stupid tapes to explain shit. The main reason why I can’t stand Hannah is the fact that, when she killed herself, she was gone, the pain was gone, and exactly at this moment her parent’s worst nightmare began. She didn’t think of them. She didn’t leave a note for them. She dedicated her last week to torment all the kids at school but not a word for her parents. Her mother’s desperation crushed me. She killed herself but she broke them, in a million pieces, never to be put together again. Can you tell me that’s not selfish? Not even a little? I just cannot forgive something like that, because finding your kid dead in the tub is pretty much the worst thing a parent can face.

Edit: if you don’t agree and GET MAD at me, please don’t reply. If you agree or don’t and want to reply with your own non-aggressive opinion, please reply. Edit 2: in case you didn’t understand, I don’t judge the reasons for which she killed herself, I don’t dislike her because of that. I just don’t like the tapes themselves and the apparent reasons for which she left them.

I’VE BEEN REWATCHING SEASON 5A RECENTLY AND WHEN I SAW THE FIRST SCENE WITH STILES OF EPISODE 10 I HAD THIS LITTLE IDEA…

___

When the wrench hit the Jeep’s windshield, the glass cracked but did not break apart completely. Stiles stood there for a moment, breathing heavily and staring at his broken-down car. It was over. His legs became heavy then and he sat down, leaning against the front wheel. It was over.

The rain had stopped a while ago, but now a chilly breeze swept through the streets and across his wet skin. Heaving and shaking with the cold, Stiles took out his phone.

He had known right from the beginning that Scott wouldn’t believe him. And that Scott wouldn’t be okay with what Stiles had done. What he had had to do to protect Scott and his father. That he didn’t have a choice. If Scott would’ve just let him explain…

Perhaps he shouldn’t have yelled at him. Perhaps they could’ve sorted things out. But it made Stiles so angry that his best friend just wouldn’t understand. It had been an accident. And it hurt that Scott didn’t believe him. It was true what he had told Theo. It had felt good when it had finally been over. But not because he had enjoyed it.

Stiles was about to press the call button when he realized whose number he had just typed in. Staring at the bright display, he was surprised whom he was about to call. He hadn’t dialed that number in a long time, but he could still remember it by heart.

His thumb hovered over the green button and Stiles stared down at the number on the display, uncertain if he wanted to talk to anyone at all right now. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Not since Mexico. And what if Scott was right? What if it was Stiles’ fault? Would he believe him? Would he care enough to listen? Would he even be able to tell him the whole story?

He was scared. He couldn’t handle another rejection. Not from him. Especially not from him. But he was his last chance. His last hope.

His mouth went dry when he pressed the call button after all. It took a few seconds for the call to connect.

‘Stiles?’ It made his heart skip a beat to finally hear the voice on the other end of the line. Then his heart started beating rapidly – he still recognized his number!

He took a deep breath and swallowed several times before he was able to say anything.

‘Hey, Derek…,’ Stiles winced at the tremble in his own voice.

‘Are you okay?’ asked Derek with concern.

It wasn’t until now Stiles realized he had waited for someone to ask him this question. For someone to care for his side of the story. To care for him. But, now Derek had asked, it was so much harder to actually talk about it.

‘Yeah,’ a short, weak laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine. Great actually.’

Derek scoffed at that, and Stiles could practically hear Derek rolling his eyes at him. It was obvious he didn’t fall for that.

‘What happened?’

For a moment Stiles wanted to hang up. It would be so easy to just hang up. But he couldn’t hold it back anymore. And so he told Derek everything that had happened in the past few weeks. Everything about Theo, the Dread Doctors, the chimeras, Donovan. And about Scott… Stiles told him what he should’ve said to Scott. He told him how Scott wouldn’t understand.

Derek did not interrupt him, let him talk until he could say no more and then just fell silent. And so at last he had shared the pain and guilt with someone who might understand. Someone, he hoped, would understand.

When he stopped talking there was silence for a few seconds.

Then Derek hummed. ‘I believe you.’

be careful who you approach on here for advice

This is something I was venting about a little on my personal blog but I felt it was necessary to also address here where it will reach more people.

Advice blogs are really great! They can be very helpful when you have small problems and need maybe a second opinion on something or just some general positivity after having a crappy day. As an advice blog, I love helping so many people. But sometimes you need to be really careful who you approach on here for advice. This is especially directed at minors.

I’m not going to name the blog since 1. they deactivated and 2. it’s not worth it, but let’s just say earlier this week I stumbled upon an advice blog encouraging a 14 year old to date a 21 year old, telling them to “keep it a secret” from others. I can’t even tell you how dangerous that kind of advice is, and the kind of situation that would put the minor in. It makes me unbelievably furious to even think about. So, PLEASE, please be careful who you approach for advice. I would maybe ask a few other blogs for the same advice on the subject just to see what more than one person thinks if you feel iffy on a blog’s response.

As an advice blog myself, I try my best to give the best advice I can. And I don’t want to see other advice blogs giving toxic advice like this, so again: BE CAREFUL. If you’re not sure about something, don’t hesitate to come to me. I’ll help you the best way I can, the safest way I can. And if you happen to stumble across some really dangerous, bad advice (where the person receiving the advice could be in danger, like the example above) please let me know so I can call the blog out on it. I won’t tolerate this.

anonymous asked:

HOW IN THE FUCK IS SANAS MOM'S ADVICE CRAPPY WHEN SHE SAID NOTHING BUT TRUTH and like i would understand that point of view if she pressured sana into doing something but she literally???? expressed her opinion and let sana make her choice??? which is 1000/10 i love sana's mom and she is also so beautiful bye

TRUTH

If you’ve been wondering where my derby comics went: I’ve been on a “break” (aka “shit I got no time for nothin!!”) since July and only very recently got back on track. It’s not like I have any more time now but life without derby just isn’t feasible I guess?

So here’s a very useful X-mas advice comic for the derby people among you. Or do you already have a gift for your derby wife/person of choice?

I’ve been getting a lot of synastry asks lately, and it bothers me not a little bit because synastry isn’t my strong suit. (I put that in the faq, right?) I don’t want to give people crappy advice!

I don’t do third-party asks, i.e., “how can I get a person with (placement) to like me?” It’s a creepy, manipulative, and stalker-ish thing to do, and will bring down all kinds of bad karma on your head.

I also don’t like doing synastry asks when I don’t have both people’s permission. It’s no less creepy, manipulative, and stalker-ish, and will also come back to bite you in the butt.

And as someone who has been and can be manipulative af, I’m also leery of “hypothetical” situations.

I know that in our capitalist patriarchal consumer culture, we’re all contorted into thinking and believing that having a romantic partner will complete us, solve all our problems, prove that we matter, blah blah blah. Astrology doesn’t quite see it that way. We have a whole six-step series/process to go through before we get to the 7th House of relationships. Namely, Houses 1-6. Before our True Loves can carry us off into the sunset, we need to become worthy people. (And that isn’t the end of the story, either - hello, Houses 8-12.)

So, if you have a synastry ask and you don’t have both parties’ permission, don’t bother. How difficult is it to ask, anyway? Unless you don’t want the other person to know that you’re seeking counsel about how to manipulate them.

(There goes my follower count. Oh well. This ain’t a dating service.)

What’s with that thing where parents, when you obviously come to them for reassurance, instead give some advice.  Even if it’s crappy advice.

“My skin’s garbage and I’m ugly.”

“You need more sunlight!”

Thaaaaaaanks.  What’s with that thing in movies where parents are like “no, sweetie, you’re beautiful.”  I want that.  Instead the philosophy of giving advice, no matter how basic is “here’s how I would handle your situation if it were me!”  Subtly self agrandising.  Where are these Generalised Positivity Hollywood Parents, I can’t think of a single straightforward compliment my parents have ever given me.

keighleyclarky  asked:

I'm not really okay . I've got a lot going on with friend groups causing rubbish for me . A few of my friends constantly push me down and try to hurt me mentally , one friend hurts me physically . She will slap and kick me for know reason .They're nastier to me than the rest of the girls . I can't even leave the friend group because a few of them are really nice . They know I have depression and anxiety , but they put me in situations that make it worse .I don't know what to do .

omg hunni, leave these groups! tell the ones you really like and who support you about it. if they really care for you they will stay friends with you! i mean really! don’t do this to yourself just because there are a view ones who are nice! you should rather have less but close and honest and great friends than a big group where only a few ones care about you! i do have just a few very good friends who went through all the shit that happened over the last years with me and they are still here. some others left as soon as things got worse. so please, start to take care of yourself hun! you will find new friends who are good for you! if they are not good for you, leave them! xx

anonymous asked:

Nice crappy advice, Sana's mother.

I totally got her point though, all in all I don’t think it was crappy advice, but it was just not what Sana needed… I’m surprised about Sanas rushed decision. Sana knows Yousef, and knows his values and morals and how close they are with her own, Muslim or not. I’m just glad she finally talked with and asked her mother and not google! I hope hope hope she talks with Jamilla and Elias!

How to keep track of everything when you have ADHD

I’m going to say right upfront that I fully realise everyone experiences ADHD differently. I personally suffer most from Inattentiveness and less from Hyperactivity. Whenever people tell me to “just get organised” and set reminders for everything I groan because that really doesn’t help. This is my personal method of making sure I complete most of my work. However, I also take Ritalin right before studying so keep that in mind. What I am able to do I can only really do while medicated. But this info might help someone else so *shrug*. 

Onwards!

Keep reading

Letters. - Bucky x Reader

Warnings: ANGST. ANGST. REALLY FREAKING SAD ANGST OKAY IM SAD NOW LOLOLOL bye

A/N: idek how i got this idea but it’s good so PLEASE LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON WHAT YOU THINK !!!


Based off of ‘Home’ by Michael Bublé


Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm

May be surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know



“You okay there, Buck?” Steve asked even though it was ironic. He wasn’t okay himself- how could he expect Bucky to be?

Bucky just remained silent, staring down at the freshly dug up dirt which now was encasing the coffin that was closed over your body. You were dressed in one of your favourite outfits to wear.

“It’s going to rain soon, we should go inside.” Steve sniffed slightly, his red lips forming a straight line when his friend didn’t answer, instead choosing to pull his legs up closer to his chest. His eyes were glossed over, a far distant look in his eyes as the silence reassured yet broke him, both at once.

The letter was still in his pocket, threatening to crumble up due to the unnatural position he wasn’t used to sitting in, the ink still burned in there, a reminder that it would never get further than that.

He felt so terribly lonely, so empty. He had only associated one place with home so far, and that just happened to be gone along with you.

He just wanted to go home.


And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that



It started out as something to help him talk, something which both of you found practical yet silly.

He just won’t talk to anyone, [Y/N].Steve had sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“Well then I’ll just write to him.” You had huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest, still adamant to help Bucky.

And it worked. 

What started out as small news updates on what was happening around the tower to the highlights of what had happened to you that day, your letters became more longer, more detailed.

He wouldn’t answer them, just nod at you whenever he passed by you, signifying that he had gotten your little note.
Until one fateful day, when you were lounging around in your bedroom, a small note came through your door.

It only told you that dinner was ready, but that was a brilliant start, wasn’t it?

His answers were never long. They would be short, curt, but would be sure to go over all your paragraphs and do them justice.

It would be 2 o’clock in the morning and he’d be lying in his bed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he had just awoken from another nightmare, skimming through your letters, his racing mind slowly calming down. 

His tongue would be poking out of the corner of his mouth as he went through each of them, taking in your handwriting as some of them looked rushed, while some looked more relaxed.

They were always signed off with a smiley face and your name, something he always made sure to read before he went to the next letter, believing that it would be the only way he would completely finish reading it. 

I just stuck multiple pictures of brussell sprouts on Bruce’s lab coat because BRUCE-ll sprouts. Get it :D


He chuckled softly, shaking his head, rubbing the stray tears from his eyes away.

Sometimes I think people don’t like me because I don’t give them my food, but then I remember ‘fries before guys’ and ‘caramel swirls before girls’ and I think that’s beautiful.


A lot of them were like this, until he stumbled upon one which screamed different to him. It was littered with splotches of used to be wet tears, making his expression change immediately.

Hi, today wasn’t a good day, so this letter might not be that cheery


He remembered that day slightly; your shoulders were drooped, and your real smile wasn’t present on your face, a forced one which wasn’t the one he had come to adore-

Wait.

Adore?

I felt like (excuse my language) shit. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but i feel like you would be a good listener. And you’re like my personal diary so :D


He noticed a small drop of water near the smiley face, slightly blurring it which made him frown.

So, yeah. I don’t have much to say, but i do have crappy advice. 

Okay, listen up Bucky. I know there are some days where you feel like rubbish, I know that you have days where you feel the world absolutely detests you just because of the whole Winter Soldier crap, and I know about what goes through your mind when you feel like no one can relate to you, or that no one gets the horrible things you’ve been through. I’m not gonna lie and say I do, because I don’t. 

But I know what loneliness feels like, and I know what it feels like to have people hate you for something that’s in the past. I know what it’s like to not have any control over yourself but still have guilt over what has been done. I know what it’s like to feel like there’s no one there for you and I want you to know that I am there, okay?

I’m there, and I care, and literally am willing to do anything for you. The world may not know you as James Buchanan Barnes, the man who buys cookies for his teammates when they’re upset, or the man who still has the heart and enthusiasm in him which people can rarely find these days, but I know. I know and I see how absolutely gorgeous of a human you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

So if you ever need anyone on TV watching marathons, or something silly like going ice skating just to watch people fail, I’m totally up for that, because I’m there for you, okay?

You’re awesome and you make the world a better place :D


That was the first time you signed it off with a heart.

That was the first time he ever hugged anyone in 70+ years, and wasn’t even afraid of shedding a few tears when you hugged him back tightly, rubbing his back soothingly.

After that you got a lot more letters from him than usual and he slowly began telling you about parts of his day, how he was feeling and what all he thought about.

After that one letter, James Barnes was opening up.


Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky, I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home


Tears weren’t in his eyes yet, but he knew they rarely were. He barely ever cried, the closest he ever was was when he heard you cry.

The heart wrenching sobs which he heard echoing through the hallways twisted his heart in ways he never thought were possible. With every tear, every burst of agony you gave, he felt like he was one step closer to the same.

He could hear you lean on your door as it rattled with your cries, making him frustrated to the point of breaking down the door when he finally figured out what he could do. 

it’s not your fault -B


You could feel the small envelope touch your legs as you stared at it, not exactly being able to see what it was because of how much your eyes were blurry on account of the tears.

He waited outside your door with a held breath as he could hear faint hiccups and a small whimper every now and then, but soon felt a sensation in his hand. A soft smile erupted on his face as the same envelope was returned, signs of it being opened.

i let a kid die. i saw him get killed and there was nothing i could do about it


His heart felt heavy; he knew exactly what you were going through.

precisely. there was nothing you could do about it. it was him or wanda and sam, and that was the best decision. -B


i could have helped everyone but i didn’t. it was a selfish move. to think of the people i loved when the people who died had people who loved them too.


[Y/N] you know that with this job, you can’t save everyone. there always will have to be sacrifices and sometimes that comes in the form of people, but there’s nothing you can do about that. it’s always going to be this way and the most all of us can do is hope to do the best we can, and you’re doing exactly that. you’re proving again and again how selfless you are, whether it be on the field or in the tower, and no one holds it against you that people die. people die. that’s the natural order of things. when their time comes, they have to go. it’s not your fault. -B


He slid it back, hoping it made you feel better. He had never been good with words, but this was something he hoped had done some good.


that’s the longest thing you’ve ever said to me in one go 



A smile took over his face as he paused for a moment before letting out a loud laugh. He could feel you slowly chuckle from the other side as he leaned his head on the door, grinning to himself softly, basking in the true beauty that was your laugh.

“Bucky?” Your voice was hoarse, and unsure, but it still was amazingly beautiful to him.

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” He could feel you pause, taking a breath. “Really. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

And in the end, it was your selflessness which ended up taking your life.


This was not your dream
But you always believed in me
Another winter day has come
And gone away
In either Paris or Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone
And let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know



He couldn’t help but feel that none of this was real. That you were still alive, and were awaiting him with a smile and a greeting in the form of a hug which would make his heart beat loudly as your arms wrapped around him, your body snuggling up to him.

The tears were glossing over his eyes as he remembered very single time you waited up for him just to make him know that he did have someone for himself.

He remembered your failed cookie baking session which ended up with him helping you clean up the dough from your face, earning him a kiss on the cheek that made him flame up. 

He remembered the time he fell asleep on the couch but you made sure to cover him up with a blanket so that he wouldn’t feel cold and helped him out with the back ache he got after sleeping on the couch.

He remembered how Tony automatically knew whenever you kissed his cheek, or he did yours or anything slightly intimate like that because Tony had programmed F.R.I.D.A.Y. into telling him whenever something like this happened so he could tease you about it.

He remembered how you changed your way of signing off the letters. It went from a small smiley and your name, to a ‘Love, [Y/N].’ which made his heart almost thud out of his ribcage.

He couldn’t bear to recollect any other memories of you, instead letting out a deep sob, burying his face into his knees, rocking himself back and forth as the tears refused to stop flowing down his face.

A large clap of thunder which would usually make him jump had no effect this time, leaving him in a tranquil surrounding other than the drops of rain which were now pelting down on him.

He didn’t notice anything, not even the umbrella which was held above his head by Tony as his suit got wet. The suit you loved seeing him in.

He was too far away from you. You and everlasting belief in him, your joy which always brought light even to his darkest of situation. Your perfect personality, which he could never experience again, no matter what.

He just wanted to go home.


Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It’ll all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home



His hands were clammy, fingers trembling slightly from the mere thought of what he was going to do. It terrified him, but he was sure about it.

He waited impatiently on the helipad for you to return from your latest mission, a smile on your face as he hugged you tightly, furrowing his head into the crook of your neck. 

He could barely contain the constant tapping of his feet, or the nervous smile on his face as the jet finally landed. He had the feeling as if his heart was in his throat, his fingers closing in unconsciously over the letter he had in his pocket. 

He counted everyone as they dismounted, not taking in their grim faces, even Wanda’s who had tears streaming down her face. 

Steve, Nat, Sam, Wanda… where were you?
He counted again, just to make sure, feeling the worry creep up.

“Steve?” he choked out involuntarily. “Where’s [Y/N]?”

Steve shook his head, fighting the tears which were going to fall out. Steve looked at him, his face clouded with distraught, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he strained, shaking his head as Bucky’s heart dropped.

 “You’re lying. She’s in there and she’s going to yell that it was a prank.” He was beginning to shake uncontrollably. “You’re lying.” 

“Bucky, she got shot multiple-” Steve tried to tell him, but he just took a step back in horror. 

“No.” He could feel his knees buckle as he fell down, not even caring about the sharp pain which emitted through his body. The one which was settling in was far worse. “No, no, no.” 

 Steve didn’t know what to do as he stood there helplessly, watching as his best friend scream out in frustration, cursing everyone for your death before choking on his own tears, giving up as his hand stopped tugging at his hair. 

No.


Hey [Y/N]

I know I’ve never been good with words, so I hope this doesn’t ruin anything I’m about to do/say. It probably will, though.

Geez, how do I even start this off? I have so much to say to you. You’ve definitely not made it easy for me because I can never explain how truly gorgeous you are without using the right words to convey my feelings.

I’m sure you can notice the shaky handwriting because of how much I’m actually trembling right now. You made me this way. Not that you scare me or whatever, but you have such a effect on me-

I’m rambling again, aren’t I? I blame you completely, doll.

I blame you and how you mange to make me shake while doing the simplest of things for you, like buying you flowers or chocolates just because I don’t know if you’ll like them.

I blame you for always being so excited about the small things which send my heart into a spiral (it’s a good spiral though).

I blame you for making me giddy like a schoolgirl when you kiss my cheek, or hold my hand, or even hugging me because I’m so damn thrilled to be the one who gets to experience all this.

I blame you for single handedly destroying any hope I’ve had of being your knight in shining armour because I’m pretty sure you’ll kick everyone’s ass before I even put on the freaking helmet because you’re so independent.

I blame you for still being the most adorable person I’ve ever had the honour to have met or even know because of your obsession with your favourite characters or your hobbies.

I blame you for being so utterly gorgeous that it physically pains me when others don’t take note of it as well as they should. Although if they did, I wouldn’t be writing this letter to you, so I’m okay with that.

I blame you for having the most perfect features on your face, for having the most beautiful body, for having the most amazing of hair, messy or neat it doesn’t even matter, for having lips which I constantly want to kiss (spoiler alert?), for having that thing about you which always makes me want to hug you but also have playful wrestling matches with you on the bed.

I blame you for having the absolutely, without a doubt, the best personality I’ve ever known with you independency and clinginess at times.

Your mature but sometimes (mostly) playful nature.

Your ‘I-Literally-Do-Not-Give-A-Shit’ attitude but also the one where you do things which take others’ feelings into recognition.

Your real, practical approach to things but also the one where you want to do things another way because it’ll hurt someone’.

I blame you for being so patient with me, for taking the time to help me. Me of all the damn people.

I blame you for never giving up on me, always being there to cheer me up.

And basically, most of all, I blame you for making me fall so stupidly heads over heels for you that I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.

I blame you for making me care so much about you that you’re automatically the first person awho I worry about when something goes wrong.

I blame you for making me this weird, hyper person who always wants to be giggly if it means that you’re the one who caused it.

I blame you for planting this thing in my mind where I constantly want to be around you or talk to you, and making me feel lonely when I’m not.

I blame you for generally making me think I have heart disease because of all the reactions you make me have.

I blame you for making me love such a beautiful person.

I’ve said it like 3 times now, but I can’t stop saying it now that I’ve gotten it off my chest.

I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved a being before. I love everything about you, and more than you’ll ever know.

I love you, [Y/N] [Y/L/N], and nothing is going to ever change that.

So if you don’t mind me asking, would you do me the honours of going out on a date with me, because if you don’t, I will probably cry.

Love always,

Bucky :D


 


He never got to give you the letter.





okay im done bye

did y’all like it?

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm sorry to disturb you but I need a good advice: my ex bf is dating the girl who tried in all way possible to take us apart. I'm very pissed of, I mean: why her? Did he forget what she did to us? Did I mean anything for him? Now we are kind of friend and next week he will visit me and I don't know how to behave cause I can't be happy for him...

i wouldn’t be happy for him too tbh. i think i wouldn’t even want to meet him. but if i would i guess i’d ask him why straight away. i’d like to know what he thinks about the whole situation. anyway, i’d say try to talk to him and get to know his point. if you are real friends i think he will be honest with you and explain why he is dating the person who tried to ruin your relationship. see how it goes and how comfortable you feel around him. but if you don’t feel good with him being there please tell him about it and ask him to leave maybe. you don’t have to spend time with someone who doesn’t make you feel good if that makes sense. i personally wouldn’t want to be friends with an ex but that’s me. crossing my fingers for you and hoping it will all go well. heads up. xx

Smashing Pots

Every now and then, people ask me if I should go to art school, and I usually say something like “Do you want to go to art school?” and if they say “Yes,” then I say “Yes,” and if they say “No,” then I say “Don’t.” This is why I am a crappy source of career advice.

However.

There is ONE class that I think nearly every writer, artist, and creative type out there would benefit from, and as it happens, it’s ceramics. Preferably with a strong wheel-throwing component.

No, really.

Back in ceramics class, in college, at the end of the year we would gather up all our dishes and pots and sculptures that we had labored over for weeks–and you really do labor for weeks, because you’re sculpting and drying and firing and glazing and firing again–and we would look at them.

And what we generally realized was that we had created a lot of things that sucked. There is just a point where you hold this lumpy-ass thing in your hand and you realize that it has not added to the sum total of awesome in the universe–and that you don’t have to keep it.

And then you wind up and fling it into the massive dumpster behind the ceramics studio and it smashes against the bottom and a demented exhilaration surges through you and you grab the next one and smash it and it is glorious.

Now, there are people who do not smash their failed work, who cannot bear to do it, and so there was always a shelf full of sad lumpy clay things with a little “free to good home” sign on it. Some of them possibly were adopted eventually. Mostly, though, we learned to smash.

Pottery, particularly wheel-throwing, is wonderful for this, incidentally. You fail over and over and you fail fast and you are creating quantity to lead to quality. You throw and throw and throw and things die on the wheel and things die when you take them off the wheel and things explode in the kiln and after you have made a dozen or two dozen or a thousand, none of them are precious any more. There is always more clay.

It breaks you of preciousness and perfectionism. You can’t fiddle for two hours with wet clay on the wheel getting it perfect. It’ll be an over-saturated lump of mud long before then. If the walls are thrown too thin, they are too thin. It’s not worth fixing. Start over. Do it again. Finish, don’t fiddle.

I can’t do pottery any more because if I tried to hunch over a wheel these days, my back would go out so hard that I would never walk upright again. But I still think it was one of the most valuable classes I ever took, because it taught me to acknowledge failure, not to fear it, and then smash the hell out of it.

The wind blew menacingly, signaling the nearing of a raging storm. And yet, the sea was so calm and quiet that not even the slightest wave had arose from its cradle. The mountains stood strong and sturdy, mocking the wind that had once dreamt of overruling these snobbish kings but no matter how hard it tried, it was constantly met with failure and self-doubt.
He was there too, on the white sandy beach. Indifferent to all of nature’s conflicts that brewed around him, for he had his own to overcome. His own fight to the death with a ghost, with an invisible foe.
It was an unfair battle by all means, the fantom knew everything about him : his weaknesses, his scars, his hopelessness, his most inner demons and was willing to summon and use all of them in its favor, against him, whereas he knew nothing of the foe for he could not see it but could feel its presence inside of him, in every breath he took, in every move he made and in every beat his heart would try ever so desperately to skip.