every person's head

what was this even supposed to be

Before noon on Monday

And I’m already over break. I’m sick and can’t enjoy the nice weather. I’m bored and having an existential crisis. Being single is the worst and I’m dreading a summer of having no one to do outdoors things with. I know I’m being grumpy and dramatic, but I’m having trouble rationalizing right now. No matter how many people tell me I’ll figure it out and be ok, it doesn’t change anything. Not having a built-in person to do things with is crippling to say the least.

I sincerely would like to just stab myself.

gymleaderbooty  asked:

Propmt: Alex likes to turn into a cat and cuddle up to Maggie/drape around his shoulders as he's walking around. Only Maggle has no idea it's alex and idk one day he finds out/she tells him/transforms into a human with her head on his lap??? help me I have ideas but cant write for shiet

The first time Magnus saw it, it nearly killed him.

Indirectly, of course, but nonetheless, he’d risked his afterlife.

The cat had been sitting in the middle of the crosswalk, in the path of cars and bikers and elderly pedestrians.

It was a beautiful cat, too, a lovely honey-gold color, dripping with dark stripes and staring dolefully at him through mismatched eyes. The world seemed to slow around it, as if every passing person turned its head to look at it for as long as common courtesy would allow.

So, naturally, as a car pulled up behind it, Magnus dove into the traffic and grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck.

Suddenly, everything sped up. Cars screamed by on all sides, honking and slamming into each other. Magnus found himself standing in the center of an enormous traffic jam.

He ran.

By the time he reached a park bench far enough away from the scene, he was breathing harder than he ever had while he was alive. He was still cradling the cat in his arms – which would explain his exhaustion. The thing seemed to weigh at least twice as much as a normal cat would, even though it was slender and compact.

Magnus dropped onto the bench, watching his breath puff up into the cool morning air. He put the cat beside him.

“You’re lucky I saved you,” he said, glaring at it. “You could have died.”
The cat stared back at him.

“I’m going to be late, now, because of you,” he told it, fidgeting. It held his gaze. “I’m meeting a friend.”
The cat seemed to raise its eyebrows, as though it were asking, just a friend?

Do cats even have eyebrows? Magnus asked himself. He wasn’t sure.

“You can go, now,” he said. The cat didn’t move. “Go, shoo,” he told it, waving his hands.

Instead of hopping off the bench and slinking off to Heimdall-knows-where, the cat draped itself across Magnus’s lap.

Magnus sat with the cat for a while. He told it about how he was supposed to meet Alex at the cafe that was now six blocks behind them. He told it about dying, about his quests.

By the time he was supposed to have met Alex, the cat had fallen asleep on his lap, and he decided to sit on the bench in the frigid Boston air.

The next time he saw the cat, he was at a coffee shop, at one of the tables outside. It hopped lightly onto the table, strange eyes flashing in the late afternoon sun, fur glimmering.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out with one hand. “How’s it going?”

The cat nudged his hand with its nose, and he pet its head. It purred.

“You remember Alex?” he asked it, though half-lidded eyes. He was drowsy, basking in the rare warm sun, and slouched down in his chair. “Yeah, you remember.”

The cat lay down, stretching itself over the table.

“I should name you,” Magnus said. “I’m terrible at names, but I’m going to name you.”

He looked up at the sky. Sun shining, birds crowded on rooftops and telephone wires. The only clouds were white and fluffy, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. The sunlight seemed to dance down across the windows of skyscrapers, making everything seem surreal.

“Sun,” Magnus said. “It’s cheesy, but I’m calling you Sun.”

Magnus started talking again, talking about Floor Nineteen, and Valhalla, and Hearth and Blitz. He told Sun about runes, and Mallory and Halfborn and TJ. He talked about Alex. He described her, with her green curls, and bronze skin, and her oddly endearing, constant state of annoyance. In retrospect, he’d probably had the most ridiculous, infatuated smile on his face, but he could live with that. It was only a cat.

The third time they met, Sun was shivering, half-frozen by the bank of the Charles River. He took off his jacket and wrapped it in it, and set off back to Valhalla.

It became a resident there, wandering the halls, sneaking into the rooms. It wasn’t uncommon for him to feel a familiar weight draped across his shoulders and the back of the sofa, or across his lap. He’d found Sun in Alex’s room as well, curled up on the bed as though it owned the place.

Maybe a week into this setup, and Magnus was slumped over on the sofa, head deep in a book, Sun’s head resting on his lap. It was late, and the only light he had on was the little table lamp. He was so engrossed in the story that he barely registered when the cat transformed into a very familiar human.

He found his hand stroking green curls instead of brown-striped fur, and glanced down in surprise to see Alex, curled up on the sofa next to him, head on his leg. She was peaceful in sleep, with a little half-smile gracing her features.

Magnus should have been modified, but he wasn’t. In that moment, he didn’t think about any of the embarrassingly raw things he’d said to her before. He just felt happy.

Magnus leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead, and stood up.

He grabbed a blanket off of the floor, and draped it over her.

“Goodnight, Sun,” he said.

He nearly missed the reply as he reached to switch off the lamp.

“Love you, Maggie.”


Morgana in every episode:

  • 5x11 The Drawing of the Dark

Morgana: Emrys.
Mordred: I know where he is.
Morgana: Where?
Mordred: Camelot. And I have his true name. It is Merlin.

houseofblaack  asked:

Hey! I have just made a new hp account - can you rec me some good blogs to follow? X

this is gonna be A Mess bc i follow,,, literally more than 4k blogs and narrowing it down was Hard but!! here it is, hope it helps :) ♥

pure harry potter blogs: @harrypotterdailly @simplypotterheads @dailypotter @harrypottergif @potter-source @gifharrypotter @justpotterheadthings @hogwartskidsproblems @accio-shitpost @knockturnallley

people i admire and have, like, giant embarrassing crushes on: @pettigrows  @sebuckstianstan @aconissa @kneazles @stilnski @hecaite @renaissaence @sobforsirius @iheartnewt @sirxusblack @thominho @odairannies @perksofbeingafanboy @stcrwar @lunavlovegood @lionheartluna @voguedemigod @alrightevans @snapslikethis @odious @tranxfiguration @queerdraco @daniels-gillies @patrochilles @trojns @patroclusz @blvisezabini @malfxoys @poseidhn @rubyluacs @slyherin @halvbloods @rvbbstark @misspendragon @veriteserum @merodeadors @maraudads @jamespotte @gingerginny @tylerejosephs @wizphobe @evansdeer @luthicn @lupinteddys @queerasfucklupin @queeriusblacks @slytherns @slytheriny @squlbs @zhirleyruiop @ronesweasley @pureblooder @abbyskane @hermiohes @queerufos @malikovich @alrightlupin @clarkesgriffs @zcbini @heymarauders @geminoweasley @occlument @gilderoys @theboywholivcd @hcathledger @bloodybaronn @wizardring @firelemonade @athosds @lehdzeppelin @johnnvdepp @aaronwarner @vanessayves @bahtmun @mytholgie @andrewminard @regulusblxcks @hermiunes @reguluz @raevnclaw @dracomahlfoys @avahda @thomasangester @saintdraco @parvatispatils @ozeraways @havilliardes @mydraco @ronaldswheezy @stupfys @dumbledore @adriansydney @housestyrell @suicsquad @zonnkos @ethanakamura @hermioneshour @hopkirks @castiol @eowyns @paternalpadfoot @emmawathson @matthevdaddario @deadgwen @poppypomfrey @gryffyndor @margaryes @dracosferret @maenons @dracosdilemma @braveremus @parvats @pansyprknson @bravehearx @liamdunibar @hugvvarts @gxldentrio @pronqsie @prongslct @nehmesis @nevillles @sybilltrelawneys @triwizardry @newtscamender @watsonita @harrysdraco @pottersir @teddylulpin @sirepotter @siriusblacck @ollivandirs @bensolcs @munies @toujovrspur @remusjohnslupin @asheathes @fantastlcbeasts @ginnypotterr @albuspottre @scorpiusmqlfoy @caradocdearborn @teddylupin @dracvmalfoy @olympius @rlchardpapen @rlupin @levicrpus @leviossah @lestrangesbellatrix @provocative-envy @leakycaudron @gryffindoer @marvelouspotter @padfout @dracoqmalfoy @caelypso @heroweasley @herhmione @beeslyp @abrnaethy @czzerny @biliusronald @estenzia @noahczeny @voldemo @frostingpeetaswounds @dracotm @drcomalfoy @blaisedzabini @nehville @deathilyhallows @wickedraco @scaredpotter @ronahld @brighttestwitch @nearlyheadlessfinnick @nwetmas @noehczerny @neitherheavenorhell @itsgrangerdanger @remiuslupin @hogwaarts @donnermaysilee @slythlerin @lhermionejeangranger @triwizarded @gryffyndor @instantremorse @grffyndors @fiendfyred @ronaldweasl-y @ronaldroars @anondracomalfoy @pottern @riddlesecrets @arthurpendragonns @mokinjays @patrochilleis @stuckwith-harry 

Two Black Cadillacs

A/N: Yeah, this song fic is a good example of how weird it is to live in my head!

The slow movement of the procession had its own somberness to it, tires creeping gradually along the asphalt. Black gloss, chrome, and glass slid by in near silence, carrying the flag-draped coffin through the cemetery to it’s final resting place. Following directly behind the hearse was an equally mournful Cadillac, carrying his wife and his closest friends.

From your seat in the third car, you couldn’t quite make out what she looked like, all that you knew was what she sounded like. The leather of the seat stuck to your bare arms in the heat of the midday sun and the smell of the fresh cut grass wandered lazily to your nose.

When the vehicles came to a stop, their occupants slowly disembarked and for the first time, you could see the woman that Spencer had chosen to marry. Taking in every detail of her, you slid from the car, holding down the skirt of your black dress before moving over to the other mourners. Face to face, the memory that led to this very moment flooded back into your mind.

Two black Cadillacs driving in a slow parade
Headlights shining bright in the middle of the day
One is for his wife,
The other for the woman who loved him at night
Two black Cadillacs meeting for the first time

You’d been sitting in your living room, waiting. Waiting for the text or the call that told you Spencer had gotten home safely. He travelled a lot and two thousand miles between you did pose an issue but visiting his mother always gave him reason to come see you.

So, when the phone on the arm of the sofa lit up, you were excited and relieved. That feeling didn’t last long, though. Hitting the answer button under his picture, you let the smile spread across your lips before you answered.

“Well, it’s about time,” you greeted, expecting a chuckle and an apology from the man you’d been seeing on and off for a while now.

“Who is this?” asked the woman’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“Y/N,” you replied, sharply. “Who is this and why do you have Spencer’s phone?”

“I’m his wife,” was all she had to say. Three words that ripped apart your world in less than two seconds. How could he have done that to you? How could he happily live such a lie?

The conversation went on for a long time, firstly for the woman on the phone to prove she was who she was and then for you to explain just how you’d been involved with him. Neither of you could quite believe just how he’d gotten away with it, but what was worse, how neither of you had suspected a thing.

“So, how long have you been seeing him?” she asked, calming down from a short sobbing moment.

“About… two years?” you answered.

“Oh my God,” gasped his wife.

“We can’t let him get away with this,” you exclaimed after a moment of thought. “I’m coming to DC and we’re going to confront him.”

There was a long pause as the other woman either collected her thoughts or broke down even more. You could hear her sniffing still, trying not to cry but when she did eventually speak again, there was no wavering in her conviction.

“I have a better idea,” she said, firmly. “But you still need to come to DC.”

When you’d first heard the plan, you wanted to slam the phone down and never look back; but as the tears rolled down your cheeks and the pain set in, your apprehension turned to will. Just over a month later, you sat in the car wearing your leather gloves and plain grey dress. Waiting.

In the darkness of the alley, the black paint kept you hidden in the shadows, your grip on the steering wheel tightening with each passing moment. Nerves caused your stomach to churn and swirl but your will had to remain strong.

In the distance, two figures stepped out of a doorway; moving along the pavement towards you, just like you knew they would. As they stepped into a pool of light from a street light, she could see that it was Spencer.

Suddenly, all of his endearing features filled your stomach with a sickness and set your teeth on edge. All of the doubt had been removed, knowing just how he’d manipulated you into believing that you were the only one he cared about.

Opposite him, his wife stopped in the light, her face obscured by the shadows as she began her speech. You knew every word that was being said and you could see it in his face. The way he tucked his hair behind his ear before shaking his head, the way he swallowed hard and pursed his lips to hold back anything that might flood out of him.

Then came the signal. Spencer’s wife raised her arms, crying out at him as he tried to calm her down.

Your hand reached for the key, turning it slowly and letting the engine roll over. Flicking over the stalk, you turned on the headlights before shifting into gear and rolling forward. As Spencer’s wife grabbed hold of his shirt, you pressed your foot to the floor, turning off the lights with only a few yards to go.

There was satisfaction in the look of sheer horror on his face the moment he saw you through the windscreen; his wife pushing him into your path just in time to step back and watch as two tonnes of steel connected with flesh and bone. The high grill slammed into his waist, shattering his pelvis but more importantly, dragging his legs under the front wheels. From inside the car, several dull thuds from under the wheels told you it was all over, allowing you to turn on your lights, pull out of the end of the alleyway and head for the state line.

Two months ago his wife called the number on his phone
Turns out he’d been lying to both of them for oh so long
They decided then he’d never get away with doing this to them
Two black Cadillacs waiting for the right time, right time

It was clear in the light of day that she’d shared the same memory as a smile spread across her lips when she saw you. Anyone else would have seen a sympathetic smile between two caring friends but they both knew otherwise. No words passed between them, just a brief nod and a red lipstick smile.

All of the words that passed between everyone were warm and heartfelt except for those passed from his wife’s lips and from yours. The priest who performed the service had spoke of Spencer as an agent, who saved lives through his intellect and his caring while Derek spoke more about the man himself and the best friend he’d ever had; breaking down into tears before he could finish his eulogy. The entire team he worked with were in tears, some having come from far afield to pay their respects, but neither you nor his wife shed a single tear for the man who’d ruined your lives.

It was the first and the last time they saw each other face to face
They shared a crimson smile and just walked away
And left the secret at the grave
And the preacher said he was a good man
And his brother said he was a good friend
But the women in the two black veils they didn’t bother to cry
Bye bye, Bye bye

Once all the words had been spoken, his wife stepped forward, laying a rose down by the grave before tossing a handful of dirt into the abyss that would hold their secret. One by one, his colleagues did the same until only you remained. Tossing the handful of dirt felt like a sick closure, a freedom. It was as if by burying him, you were burying the pain he’d caused you both. Neither of you would ever reveal what you’d done, both out of mutual respect and fear of mutual destruction.

“Goodbye, Spencer,” you whispered as you moved away from the grave, glancing up to his wife one last time before taking your place amongst the mourners.

Yeah they took turns laying a rose down
Threw a handful of dirt into the deep ground
He’s not the only one who had a secret to hide
Bye bye, bye bye, bye bye

Scanning the small, gathered crowd, you saw something a little out of place. Each and every person had hung their heads for the final words but one. Across the grave stood a colleague of Spencer’s. A petite blonde, eyes red with tears, but they weren’t looking to the ground or to the grave or even to the priest. Her eyes were on Spencer’s wife, watching as if she thought that something wasn’t right. Then to you.

With a faint smile to her and a sorrowful look, you told her you were just a mourner and her attention turned back to Spencer’s wife, leaving you to wait out the rest of the funeral before walking away from the capitol for good


Stefan “she would never choose anyone like you in a million years.”
Kol “Nor would she choose you. your her best friends ex.. not very compelling sitituation to put yourself in.”
Stefan “talk about compelling boyfriends.. your dead.”
Kol “only temptary. besides Y/N knows that i would give her the entire world what can you offer her?”
Stefan “a Sane boyfriend, one who wont ripp every person heads off in sight.”
Y/N “I choose…..”

The Lettuce Escapades

My (super late) contribution to Solangelo Weekend!!! AU inspired by the prompt “Repeatedly comes into the shop I work at and picks up a lettuce then halfway through the shop decides they don’t want the lettuce and puts it back regardless of what aisle they’re in.” (Woah look it’s also on ao3)

At first Will had thought it was funny, the lettuce left randomly on shelves in the candies, the breads, and then the jams-and-jellies sections of the all-natural grocers he worked at. Searching for this Easter egg of produce had given him a humorous ending to his long week of part-time work and stressful pre-med classes. But after what must have been the thirtieth time finding the offending vegetable and carrying it back to its place, Will only thought it was annoying.

Keep reading

Start a relationship with somebody who has some mental disorder (mainly depression) it’s something that I wish people think twice before do, have idea that it will not be like a tumblr post where you say some kind of lovely sentence and every demons from the person head will just disappear.
You for sure will be able to make they feel better, but not all the time. You’ll have to deal with the fact that sometimes not even you will be enough.
If you don’t know that you are dealing with someone with some chemical imbalance in their brain and not a lacking people needing of a hug, you gonna end up petulant, and this is a way to make things worse. And not for you, worse for who gonna feel unable to make you happy.
Depression demands careful. Take care.
—  Thaís Yorke

In the night we’ll set the world on fire
You’re afraid of the dark and I am just afraid