i am thankful for you and you alone

secondsandstars  asked:

Hi I just found your blog because of the If You Go Down To The Woods Today writing challenge and O.M.G!!! The Vampire!Lance one alone...I AM SHOOKETH!!!!

Originally posted by paradiserave

Welcome to the party!!

Thanks so much for following and sending me this thoughtful message!! I’m so happy to hear that you liked my fic.

Originally posted by channelfrederator

For my new followers, here’s a rundown of what you’ve signed up for:

Me in three.

A maniac but ACCURATE THO.

My life is called Regrets: The Musical.

Originally posted by sebtrashianstanimagines

I’m real mature.

Really, really mature.

Like so mature you wouldn’t believe it.

I like to party.

Originally posted by theonekierce

I like watching senior citizens wail on each other.

Sometimes I make up new words.

I write absurd filth that oughta come with a warning.

My AO3.

Some recent NSFW Marvel drabbles

A NSFW Bucky Barnes/Reader fic that you might enjoy.

The Sequel to said Bucky/Reader fic.

Originally posted by goddess-gal-gadot

I’m a fic-hibitionist.

I’m sometimes accused of witchcraft.

Dicks are hilarious.

Even the small ones.

I spam gifs. Mostly of Sebastian Stan (aka Dorknado).

I spam gifs of Bucky Barnes.

I will reblog the same spam post until my dreams come true.

I will spam black & white gifs too.

Originally posted by marvelousmarvelsofmarvel

My favourite Chris is Sebastian Stan.

I have Social Anxiety and I’m doing my best.

I like to help out when I can.

I dream of a pissed off punk rock Bucky Barnes.

I once wrote a filthy fic using gifs of Santa Claus called Meleedamage Ruins Christmas.

My pussy once bit Santa Claus and was quarantined by Public Health.

And that’s basically it…

Originally posted by jaemiie

Thanks for following!! 

melancholycupofcoffee  asked:

no one has ever put out such a story, so incredibly similar to mine. i show almost everyone your writings and how much i wish i could talk to you and ask you how you survived and what makes you happy now. i'm so sorry for all of that. i think it's shit when people say 'i know how you feel'. the hell you don't, i am a different person with a different heart and feelings; but i will say that i understand what you have been through, because i've been through it too. so thank you for being brave.

I completely understand. Thank you for the support and I’m happy my story can bring some peace to others knowing we are not in this alone

anonymous asked:

First of all, I really love your blog, it helped me a lot :) Secondly, I have huge crush on a friend. I would like to ask her out to spend more time with her, like, not necessarily on a date, but simply to spend time alone. If that makes sense at all. Problem is, I don't really know how, because I am socially awkward and kinda still in the closet. Please help. Thank you ❤

Be afraid but do it anyway.
Just ask her if she wants to go see a movie, try out a new restaurant/café, or go shopping, or do something you both like together! If she does a sport, ask if you can try it, or if she likes a tv show, ask if you can watch it with her or catch up and talk with her about it!
There’s really no right or wrong, she might not always have time etc but as long as you’re respectful, honest, communicate well, respect her boundaries, then everything’s fine :)
You got this 👍

i survived! just wanted to thank you to all of the amazing people on here (yeah i’m taking about you) who helped me get to this point in my life. i didn’t think i would ever get to this point let alone get to this point so comfortably and without a doubt in my mind. please know that i’m so so so thankful for everything you guys have done for me whether it just be sending me a little message, following me, donating, or whatever. i don’t deserve it but i sure am grateful for it. none of this would’ve been possible without you guys. i swear i’m the luckiest dude in the world to have friends like all of you. now that i’ve rambled on about my love for u all and gotten such a huge weight off of my chest (hehe) i’m gonna go back to sleep bc ouchy.

9

Happy birthday to the most amazing man I know.  And thank you so much for not only making my life better - but for making the world a happier and better. Thank you for being in my heart since I know how to love. I grew up watching you, you are a part of who i am. Now, I can’t even imagine how my life would be without you. And I know that I’m not alone, there are  thousands of people who feel same. We are proud of you, please never change ❤️

gene-zane-strider  asked:

dear writing prompts dude, how do you feel about having a mini-community, all to yourself?

Blessed, amigo. I don’t shit post very often but when I do and I see your unwavering support I am filled with joy. You know that feeling when you are sitting all alone in your room but you are having the greatest time of your life? Well, that’s what you amigos mean to me. You probably don’t know it but you have brightened my day many, many times. Thank you

3

jacksonwang852g7: No matter what, it was always there right beside me. Thank you so much for walking with me till this point today. All the scars you have, the fact that you have to bump against all other luggage cases, also the fact that you have to carry heavy weights all the time, it was all because of me. I am sorry. And I couldn’t even imagine about leaving you. Sigh… actually when I bought my new luggage case yesterday, after cleaning up all the stuff out. I felt so sad after looking at you standing at the corner of the room alone with all the scars you have. Thank you so much my luggage case,and I promise, no other luggage case will replace you. Thank you again and I love you.

Flirt With Me

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Requested: No

A/N: Okay, but doesn’t love Peter? This is my first Marvel fanfic and I am sure that there is more to come! Thanks so much for waiting and, as always, I hope you enjoy!

***** 

You felt a rush of relief as the bell rang, fleeing from the classroom in a hurry, hoping to lose Flash Thompson, who was hot on your heels, in the crowd. 

You run through the halls of the school, desperately trying to find your best friend Peter Parker. You spot the colour of his favourite sweatshirt out of the corner of your eye and skid to a halt in front of the glass library doors. You peered inside and sure enough, Peter was sitting alone at one of the desks, studying for an upcoming test. 

You look back and forth feeling frantic, your hair whipping wildly as you checked to see if Flash was near. He was nowhere in sight. You were safe, for the time being. 

You hurriedly push open the heavy doors of the library, the hinges squeaking rather loudly. The librarian looked up from her desk and glared at you. You smiled apologetically before hurrying over to Peter and slipping into the seat next to him. 

“Oh, hi (Y/N)-” 

“Peter.” you gasp, trying to catch your breath from all the running. He tilts his head as he looks at you, confused. 

“Are you alright? Why are you panting? Oh no, do we have to run a mile today in PE? Dang it.” 

“No no, it’s not that. It’s Thompson,” you answer, shaking your head. Peter’s eyes flare at the mention of the name but the action remains unnoticed by you.

 “What did the idiot do this time?” he asks, sighing and balling his hands into tight fists. 

“He keeps asking me out even though I’ve told him that I wasn’t interested countless times,” you say in frustration, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But he won’t leave me alone. He sat next to me in History for the past hour and he just wouldn’t stop hitting on me. I wish I could just take his head and-” 

You made a violent gesture in mid air and Peter smiled at your behaviour.

“Ugh, aren’t boys just revolting.” he remarks, making you smile. 

“Please, tell me about it.” You shake your head in disgust. “And I’m pretty sure he’s following me now. He’ll probably find me soon…oh no.” 

Your voice trails off and both you and Peter spot Flash approaching the library, swaggering through that halls as if he owned the place. Peter glared at him as he got closer. In his opinion, that kid was way worse than any bank robber he had ever webbed up. 

You grabbed his shoulder and he looked down at your hand, startled by your sudden action. 

“Arg, he’s coming! I need to hide!” you yelp, looking around wildly for a place to hide but to no avail. You were out in plain sight. You flinched as you heard the doors of the library open and looked at Peter for help. And then, an incredibly stupid idea pops into your head. 

“Flirt with me.” you whisper, instantly regretting everything. 

Saying that he looked shocked would have been the understatement of the century. 

“Er - what?” he exclaimed, his face turning a bright shade of pink as Flash entered rather obnoxiously loudly into the library. He was apologizing to the cranky librarian and you quickly explained your oh so stupid plan to Peter. 

“If he sees I’m taken, he won’t ever try to make a move again.” you explain quickly, feeling yourself heat up and Peter looks at you skeptically, his blush fading. 

“(Y/N), are you sure about this? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Flash starts to walk towards your table and your grip on Peter’s arm tightens. 

“Please.” 

He nods slightly and clears his throat, scooting himself closer to you. 

“So, uh, do you come here often?” he asks in a low voice and you stare at him before bursting out into laughter. 

“Is that honestly the best thing you’ve got?” you ask through giggles. “Gee, you’re just as awkward as I am.” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, at least I’ve got you laughing now. It’s makes everything more convincing.” 

But he was right. Flash was eyeing the two of you, looking agitated and envious. 

“And no, this is my best line… You are absolutely, astoundingly beautiful and that’s the least interesting thing about you.” he whispers, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. His face is mere centimeters from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning across your face. 

Your mind goes totally blank as you stare into his eyes, trying to clear your throat to say something witty back at him but you couldn’t think. Instead, to your horror, you feel your face flush as you continued to get lost in his eyes. 

“Perfect! I’ve got you blushing now too!” Peter observes, looking quite satisfied with himself. This simply deepened your blush and he chuckled. It was definitely odd, seeing this confident side of Peter, but you had to say that you were enjoying it, maybe even a little too much. 

“You’re a great actress, (Y/N).” he whispers with a grin and you nod unconsciously. 

“Er, yeah. Acting…” 

“How’s our victim?” he whispers into your ear, drawing you even closer to him, if possible. 

“Uh, h-he’s looking absolutely furious.” you stutter, finally managing to get a full sentence out. You mentally scold yourself, you weren’t going to let him know that he was making you melt and feel absolutely flustered. “He should be gone soon.” 

“Good, let’s keep at it then.” he murmurs, taking your hand gently and looking at you through his lashes. Your heart beat quickened as Peter placed his lips on your knuckles, kissing them lightly. 

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d be holding a galaxy.” he said lazily against the back of your hand and tried your best to refrain yourself from shaking at his touch. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the thought of what his soft lips would feel like against your own… 

“That’s so cliché.” you say feeling awfully breathless and he smiles once again before lifting his head back up to meet your eyes. 

“It is indeed. But it’s also true.” he replied, without breaking his character. You knew that if you had been standing, your legs would’ve failed you. “I was always told that nobody was perfect, but you’re clearly the exception. However, there is one thing I want to change about you.” 

“W-what?” you question, stuttering again. 

“Your last name.”

You desperately tried to think of a clever comeback but you couldn’t, it was as if your brain had been turned to mush. Once again you were at a loss of words, something you prided yourself of not happening. Your best friend gave you a reassuring smile before gesturing towards where Flash was standing, asking you to check if he was still there. The other boy was nowhere in sight. Thank the heavens, he was gone. But you also felt a pang of disappointment when you realized that Peter’s charade would soon come to an end… 

“He’s gone. Flash is gone.” you whisper incoherently, and Peter’s face lights up with a huge grin. 

“Yes! You’re plan worked (Y/N)!” Peter cheered happily, dropping the low, seductive voice he had used merely seconds ago.

“Are you alright?” he inquired when you don’t cheer with him. 

“Y-yeah. I’m great.”

To your dismay, he scooted away from you and began to pack up his things before standing up. 

“I feel like I allured you with my awkwardness rather than flirting with you.” Peter said, chuckling as he swung his backpack on effortlessly. “On his behalf, Flash was a complete idiot to believe any of that, I do hope I was convincing enough.” 

He frowns slightly and you nod your head furiously. 

“Uh, yeah! You were great! Could’ve fooled me!” you squeaked, trying yourself to sound as convincing as possible. Peter didn’t seem to notice how significantly higher your voice had become. 

“He shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” he says with a grin. 

“Yeah, hopefully. Thank you, Peter.” 

“No problem! And if he does bug you again, just let me know. I’ll be happy to help again. We make a pretty good team of actors, if I do say myself.” 

“Mhmm. Thanks again.” 

“Anything for you (Y/N). Well, I better get going. The ‘Stark internship’, y'know?” he says with a wink before running off to become his alter web shooting ego. 

You remained in the library, still glued to your seat. Your heart was still racing at a feverish pace. You place your hand on your cheek and to your surprise, find yourself still blushing, your cheek burning like fire. 

Was Peter Parker just that good at flirting or had you fallen for your best friend?

*****

Part 2

*****

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, if you have a request, feel free leave something in my inbox!

Sharing Is Caring

Originally posted by knightlley


Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: “Hey! Can you write a JeffxReader? Where the reader is Clay sister (and have a secret crush on Jeff), someday she was going to sleep in Hanna’s house, but for some reason she didn’t stay to sleep and when she go home she find Jeff slepping in her bed. You can choose how it ends. Thank you! :D”

Words: 1.247

A/N: I am happy that I received a Jeff imagine! Although I didn’t want to leave Hannah alone, because I can imagine the reader being on the tapes after because of it. Yup, I am a little bit paranoid. Sorry. Anyways, I hope you like it and I would be grateful if you send other requests!
Thank you.

- G. x

Link: Part 2

Warning: (Y/H/C) is Your Hair Colour.


“Oh my God, you seriously like Jeff Atkins?” Hannah exclaimed excitedly and energetically as she knew the secret you’ve been keeping for years.

“Who wouldn’t like him?” You stated as if it was normal to like Jeff. Well, he was good looking, kind and funny. He had the characteristics you were looking for a boy and you knew that he was the one when you met him.

“Aw, I hope he likes you back.” Hannah honestly said as she played with your (Y/H/C) hair while you both sat on her comfortable double bed. You decided to have a sleepover because it has been awhile since you last spent time together. She was one of your close friends and you loved her presence.

“Well, he’s older than me and I am out of his league.” You shrugged your shoulders as you felt a little bit down for what you’ve just said.

“Oh, cut it off! You are beautiful, intelligent and sweet, it is impossible to not fall in love with you.” Hannah comforted you as she praised you with her sincere words.

“Aw, Hannah.” You looked at her with a wide smile and you hugged her. “Thank you.”

“It was the truth.” She hugged you back as a nice friend she was.

“Talking of these boys,” You started as you broke the hug and she hid her face behind her hands as she already knew the next question. “how are you and my older brother, Clay?” You flashed a smirk and you saw her cheeks turned red.

“Oh my God, I knew it.” She laughed, still having her face hidden. “We’re friends, (Y/N). We work at the movie theatre and we talk at school, that’s it.”

“Jesus, Clay never asked you out?” You shook your head for your disappointment because you rooted for them being together. You considered Clay and Hannah as a perfect couple.

“He’s shy.” Hannah shortly answered.

“But it’s not an excuse! I would slap that dork silly, seriously.” You unleashed a long and deep sigh because Hannah seemed disappointed too and her being dismayed was one of the things you wouldn’t want to see. “I’ll talk to him, because I know that he likes you too, a lot!”

“Geez, really?” Hannah smiled widely and you nodded happily as her happiness came back once again.

“You can count on that!” You winked at her and she bit her lower lip. You stared at each other and you both let out some soft giggles for no reason, but it was interrupted as you heard some noise coming from the living room.

There was a discussion happening between Hannah’s parents and you could tell that she felt embarrassed for it. She hated it when they fought and having a friend hearing their complaints wasn’t one of the things that she wanted to happen.

“Are you okay, Hannah?” You worriedly asked and she just shook it off, obviously avoiding herself to ask you some help.

“(Y/N), do you mind if we cancel this sleepover?” She fidgeted with her warm blankets as she was nervous for your possible reaction.

“Oh no, it’s fine for me if you don’t feel comfortable. I mean, I would stay to cheer you up, but I will give you space if you want.” You sympathetically said as you understood her situation.

“I am fine, really.” She assured you. “I will call you if I ever need some help. Thank you.”

“Don’t bother to call me, okay?” You reminded her once again as you got up from her bed. You gathered your things and you put them in your backpack.

“Noted.” She smiled widely at you, not minding her parents anymore. She got up too and you both went outside her room as she led you to the house’s front door. Her parents stopped throwing shit at each other as they saw you going away and you could say that they felt guilty because of it.

“Good night, Hannah.” You sweetly greeted. “Call me or text me, okay? I am always here.”

“I know and I thank you for that.” She hugged you and you responded to it by hugging her back. “Good night.” She then let you go.

“Good night, see you tomorrow.” You said as you unlocked your bike’s chains. You then rode it as you said goodbye to Hannah once again. She watched you as you started to pedal way back home.

During your journey, you thought of Hannah’s family situation and you knew that it wasn’t your business but you wanted to help her. You wanted to help her, because you didn’t want for it to be one of the reasons she would feel sad or disappointed. Her life was already hard and you didn’t want for her to carry another problem on her back.

Once you arrived home, you silently went to your room, not wanting to wake anybody up. You plopped your things on your desk and you let yourself fall on the bed carelessly.

“What the fuck, Clay?!” You heard a deep voice complaining and you were shocked, mostly scared, for a moment. You were afraid to move, but you quickly searched for the lamp that rested on your bedside table and you turned the lights on. “Oh, it’s you (Y/N)!”

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Jeff?” You corrugated your forehead as you wondered why. You liked Jeff, but you knew that you had the right to be furious after what happened.

“Clay said that you were staying at Hannah’s!” Jeff sat up as he covered his shirtless body. “Boys can have sleepover too, duh!”

“Jeez!” You laughed even though you were annoyed. “I am sleeping on the couch downstairs then.”

“No, I am sleeping there. This is your bed and it’s not okay to let a woman sleep uncomfortably.” He ranted as he searched for his shirt and wore it soon after.

“It’s okay, Jeff. Stay here.” You flashed him a smile and you got up from your bed, ready to go out of the room.

“No!” Jeff protested. “We can share! It’s a double bed and I can sleep on one side and you on the other.”

“Hmm?” You raised an eyebrow as you considered his proposal.

“Only if it’s okay with you. If not, I am sleeping on the couch.” He smiled as he scratched his nape.

“Alright, I’ll share my bed with you.” You went back on the bed and you sat on your space. “Only because I don’t want for you to be uncomfortable, okay?”

“Alright, (Y/N).” You could bet that you saw him smirking before you turned the lights off.

“No malice, Jeff!” You slapped his muscular arm and he just let out a laugh. Oh, how much you loved that laughter. “Thank my parents because they taught us that sharing is caring.”

“I’m thanking Lainie and Matt tomorrow, don’t worry.” He jokingly answered and you just giggled because of it. “Good night, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Jeff.” You smiled while you had your eyes closed. You couldn’t believe it, so you had a hard time drifting in your sleep, same for Jeff.

You were happy that you had a chance to share the bed with your ultimate crush and both knew that you would wake up hugging each other, but who cares? You both liked each other, you just had no guts to admit it and this is a great coincidence to show the affection to each other.


Friends Part 1

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1947

Warnings: Fluffy and angst

Thank you @amrita31199 for beta this for me you are amazing 

credits to the gif owner

You never felt so inadequate in your life, when you left the house for one of Tony’s parties . You felt beautiful in your black strapless dress and high heels.  But as soon as you arrived at the party, you felt your heart being shattered.

You see Bucky with a beautiful blonde in his arms , when he sees you he comes in your direction kissing your cheek and pulling you to a hug “Don’t you look beautiful?” He says staring into your eyes, you smile at him with your best fake smile“Well I tried, apparently not as hard as your date.” You say sounding bitter even if that is the last thing you wanted to be or sound like.

Keep reading

Secretly in Love Starters

1) “You should totally pretend to propose to me,” their best friend said. “We can see if someone in the restaurant gives us free drinks. People love it when stuff like that happens.” 
My stomach flipped. I couldn’t even say I liked you, let alone propose - fake or not. “Why am I the one proposing? You do it. It was your idea.”


2)  “Everyone thinks we’re a couple.”
“I know.”
“You know? It doesn’t bother you?”
“Should it? Does it bother you? I mean, personally I think I could do worse as far as fake lovers go, but…”


3) “Look, attending prom without knowing how to dance was tragic the first time. I just can’t let you face that humiliation twice.”
“Thanks.”
The other held out a hand, a small smile on their lips. “Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher. Everyone says so.”
They stifled a laugh.

You don’t just listen to me talk
You actually hear what I say.
And when my life comes crashing down,
You make me feel okay.

So thank you for responding
And thank you for asking whats wrong.
You seem to be the only person in the world
Who actually cares whats going on.

—  I Am Obsessed With The Boy In The Pink House

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

There’s always going to be someone who has “had it worse” than you. 

My mom’s first reaction to my coming-out was, i’d say, pretty pretty bad. Her words hurt me. I felt unloved, lonely, dirty, like something was wrong with me, like i ruined her life just by being myself. 

And yet i feel almost guilty when i say “Her reaction was pretty bad”. There are kids who get beaten up or kicked out of their home or even get murdered after a coming-out - My mom just said a few mean things. Who am i to complain? Shouldn’t I feel thankful that it wasn’t worse? Other lgbt+ kids have had it worse. 

Now that i’m older and spent more time with other lgbt+ people, i realized some important things and I want to share them with you: 

1. I’m not the only one who feels that way. Many of us do. So, if you relate to my words, please know: You’re not alone. 

2.  There’s always going to be someone who has “had it worse” than you.If you got insulted, there’s someone who got insulted worse. If you got bullied by five people, there’s someone who got bullied by ten. And so on. That doesn’t mean that you are not allowed to hurt. Someone else’s pain doesn’t diminish your own. 

3. Your pain is not what makes you lgbt+. Your identity is. How valid your identity is not determined by how much pain others make you go through. 

4. We don’t have to feel thankful for not getting murdered or kicked out. We don’t have to feel thankful for “only getting a bit insulted”. That feeling is based on the horrifying idea that it is normal to get abused after a coming-out. It’s not. 

If someone makes you feel bad for being lgbt+, you are allowed to feel pain - even when others “have had it worse”.  

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

•A JOURNAL ENTRY: WHAT IS IT REALLY LIKE TO LIVE WITH DEPRESSION?•

i wouldn’t exactly call it living. more like surviving… i look at the environment surrounding me, memories lie tattered in my brain. a life i want to believe was once so full and fruitful has become unthinkably dull. my own eyes were once baby blue but have since faded to an iridescently eerie gray. im hurting. it hurts. im not lying.

i would tell you that you don;t understand- but i;ve begin to notice that everything can only be interpreted in relation to other things or feelings. and this is the only thing ive come to recall feeling. this ethereal delicate coldness within my core, shaking and rattling my bones, consuming my every feeling of functionality. im clearly broken beyond repair- yet i aimlessly crave fixture.

i am light with awful lightness. my blood is mud and my bones are brittle. my thoughts freely cascade within my mind, setting fire to all of my precious sensibilities . any meager ration of purpose and hope is replaced by these fucking reminders that i am truly and entirely 113% alone in this.

at one point, i wanted help. i went to therapy once a week- on bad weeks i went twice. i convinced myself that the glass was half full. i made the most out of everything- and in the process, i made a fool of myself.

i spoke out. i cried for help. i wrote it in books, on forums, i would have carved the words “help me” into my damn skin on my damn forehead if i thought for one minute that anybody was listening.

and i know you’re listening if you’re reading this. but are you really reading this? are you reading me? can you feel the pain in the tips of my fingers, in the ends of my hair, in the blood in my veins, in the staggering cry of my voice at 2 in the morning- an ugly face soaked in the tears resulting from years of utter and complete destruction and then desertion of every little thing i feel?

can you feel my pain?

can you imagine trying to fall asleep when there are actual fucking faceless voices in between your ears jabbering an unimaginably taunting cry? whispering demented nonsense into your ears nonstop after you beg and plead with yourself to quit hearing those damn voices. your mind races like it’s been training all its life and this is the moment it has all led up to: the olympic event of self destruction. and it’s taking home the gold.

i close my eyes and i am so unbelievably tired. staying alive is a fight and today it has beat
me to a pulp. my eyes have bags as big as my regrets and my face is tired from
pretending to light up with joy all day.

jesus christ, it’s my junior year and i’m graduating in less than a year. surely there is one thing to even half way grin about. no, you are wrong. because for every good little thing that happens- every time it seems like it’s getting better, every false sense of hope, for every good thing, there is depression.

my false sense of hope has found its home. depression is a polite host to every single good
feeling in my body. depression feeds me, it cleans me, it loves me, it speaks to me, it knows me.

depression wants to stay forever. it houses in my bones, it feeds on my fears, it gets high on my anxiety, it exchanges hope for hopelessness, it thrives on my insecurities, and depressions favorite thing to do is to keep me up on nights like tonight, where i’m at my worst.

i’m scared, truly. i used to be obsessed with the seasons- more importantly, the transition of one season to anther. perhaps i used to be so fond of change because change was actually a possibility at that point in my life.

winter turning into spring was my favorite. i would lay on the dead, crunchy, brown remnants of the grass, the air around me crisp and cold, stabbing my lungs with every swift,
sharp breath. my nose rosy and cold, sniffling along every chill within my body. bare branches of tall oak trees
stretched into the white winter sky, seemingly reaching for the sunlight the tree craved and needed, as my pale, cold, minuscule hands clutched at the dry, barren earth beneath me- fumbling for more meaning of the world around me. why must seasons change, but my heart always feels the same?

you see, i resonate so very deeply with the winter months. gardens and patches of land that were once beaming with flora and fauna, life and expounding sunlight and warmth, now lay isolated, empty, sterile- similar to the child in me that once was jubilant and lively, but now turned into some thing so cold and ugly. the innocence has beend lost and the happiness within me has since been destroyed by the monster within me, which claims not only me as a victim, but those around me who love and care about me

i only know that i am loved and cared for because i’m continuously and perpetually told this upon a daily basis. it has become very prevalent to me that people feel much better about me when i validate that i know that they are here to talk and that i am loved. yes, i know this. but i cannot feel it. the love that you have for me is, in the least offensive way possible, absolutely irrelevant to my entire being.

you could listen to me rant for days upon weeks, you could read this bible that i’m typing. but i can never seem to make the people around me realize that i am never going to truly accept the love they offer me.

i often wonder if it is true love that inspires people to be there for those with depression- or if those surrounding me simply feel compelled to profess their love and support to me because they see my approval and wellbeing as a direct reflection of their credibility as a friend or family member.

i feel as if i am a burden to those around me, simply harshening the seemingly good mood that literally everyone else but me is capable of partaking in. i want to run with wild horses, frolic among wild flowers, hear the laughter of a child, hold hands with someone i love, and entertain deeply fulfilling and life changing relationships- but you see, the way my life is set up- i am actually emotionally incapable of doing so!

i am most aware of my unfortunate illness and incapability to be happy in the most unexpected and irrational times. take birthday parties, for instance. celebration and good vibes fill the air around me, seeping into my black, pitiful lungs. everyone around me smiles and sings, drowning in their jubilation, as i sit and watch. i want to have fun. please believe me. i want to sing happy birthday. i want to watch you open your gifts. i want to be as happy as you. i want to feel the warmth in my cheeks as i have the time of my life with my friends. but some thing within me compresses each and every slither of joy i am capable of feeling. i am suffocated by the downfall of my emotions and i am blinded by the reminder that depression doesn’t take breaks, not even at birthday parties. depression is strongest whenever you are faced with situations that expose you to the reality that you’re the odd one out- you’re sticking out like a sore thumb. you’re moping and you’re constantly staring out into space. what are you even looking at? what do you have to think about? you have nothing to live for, so anything beyond what’s right in front of you has no relevance in this whole scheme of life. so take it or leave it. you should be enjoying this birthday party. all the other kids are happy. you should be too. you’re lucky you even left the house today. so lucky. had you stayed home, you would have been 100% alone with your thoughts, rather than 97% along with your thoughts, due to the constant interruption of your moping and resentment by peers and parents and teachers asking “is everything okay?”

habitually, you nod. yes. everything is fine. i’m doing well, thank you. but what is the meaning of life? why do i feel like there’s a big fat man sitting on my chest and stomach and heart all the time? why do i always feel like i’m the only one in the room holding back tears trying not to cry? why are the other kids so happy? am i missing out on some thing? why do i feel so sad? why is it that every time i’m surrounded by people who say they love and care for me, i feel as if i’ve never been more alone before in my life? why? do you pity me? it’s just who i am. is that weird?

and oh my god i was always so desperate to be different. perhaps it was just the way my personality was set up. and i was always fairly extroverted. but it was presumably a persona that i put on. hey world, look at me. i’m silly and creative and ill say things that nobody else would say. pay attention to me, look at me.

because i needed them to watch. i hope you never feel so out of control of your body as me, to where you feel as if the only way that you can be saved is if other people figure out that you’re dying on their own. you don’t know how to come straight out and tell them, “hey, i really would rather not be alive at this given moment. i have visions of ending my own life. i use self isolation as a coping mechanism at times in order to feel like less of a burden on those who love me. i haven’t felt genuinely loved in a really long time. i’m so lonely. i could really use a friend right now.”

you can’t just say that. and i became depressed at 9 years old. how would a 9 year old even possibly articulate these complex and life threatening emotions that severely alter the way that every one of their peers perceives them. those middle years are crucial for making friends. it’s at that age that you have to find a group of 3 to 8 people who accept at least half of your given characteristics and occasionally invite you to partake in shit that kids do.

i wouldn’t know. i was a fleeting spirit. appearing and disappearing from cliques like it was clock work. there was more than one willow. there was the catty, witty willow- that found self-approval and approval from others by teasing and belittling others in order to build her own confidence up. then there was the sweet, flower child willow that sold daisy chains on the playground at recess at the price of one hug. there was the willow that stayed near the teachers at times because it was obvious that the other kids wanted nothing to do with her.

and as time progresses, the newer evolution of willow became prevalent. the willow that kept to herself most of the time, spending recess in the class room alone, drawing on the pages of her books, talking to herself, worrying her life away. everyone wondered - what was wrong with willow? or perhaps nobody noticed at all. maybe i was so insignificant even at such a young age- that the only time people considered me was in my dreams.

depression changes a person. some times, the change isn’t even tangible or noticeable to those surrounding the victim. some times, it is a slow discourse of the destruction of the spirit. it can slowly creep into your ear one ungodly night, and forever more whisper its awful lies into the victims ear, as it infects their whole body, their heart, their mind, their spirit, their hands, their eyes. everything. it slowly progresses into the uncontrollable loss of feelings and motivation to even maintain basic proper hygiene. it makes everything feel pointless. things are no longer worth the effort because you’re going to die no matter what, and that can’t come soon enough.

yes, depression can be slow and progressive. but that’s not the worst. the worst depression is the kind that sneaks up on you out of nowhere in the dead of night and immediately stiffens every hair on your body and turns your blood cold, making your mouth dry and your tongue numb. this depression hits you like a fucking train. it hits you in your most vulnerable state- comfort and normalcy. from that point on, you will never know normalcy again.

depression has a way of deceiving you into believing things that are crazy and untrue. but these things become so real to you as the depression progresses into a lifestyle that you come to know nothing else but the lies that depression will fill you with- so nobody can really tell you anything. it will call you names. it will tell you that you’re better off dead. it will be your only comfort- feeling nothing- during the night, whenever anxiety holds you until you pass out from exhaustion. you will never be cold at night as long as anxiety and depression have you snuggled up in between them.

oh how depression loves to kick you around and belittle you. oh how it renders your fantasies pointless. it loves to keep you hostage- to the point where any time you get an idea that doesn’t include moping around in your own sorrow, it immediately renders that idea impossible and reminds you that you are depressions bitch. you eat when depression finishes telling you how fat and disgusting you are. you sleep all day, so depression can take a dip in your nightmares. you wake up, and realize that life with depression is the true nightmare after all.

you pray for the day that you are relieved from this blinding madness and this subliminal torture. you feel as if you are not only a burden to your own self, but a burden to the people who love you and care for you

the only times when depression allows you relief from questioning the ulterior motives of those around you who claim to love you and care for you is when depression instead allows you to feel ashamed of your affliction. when you’re depressed, people notice. they may pretend not to and they may ignore it. but they know. they just don’t know what to say.

what would they say anyways?

hey. i’m sorry your brains are figuratively dripping out of your ears and i’m sorry that you have convinced yourself that i only care about you because i feel guilty, and i’m also sorry that you don’t even have the motivation to take a shower. i’m also sorry that you don’t
remember the last time that someone made you feel special. i’m sorry that you can’t find a reason to smile. i’m sorry that out of all the millionaires, the talented ones, the ones who fall in love, and the ones with nice asses- you were the one to end up hating yourself and everything around you.

ask yourself…. what do you say? what do you say to someone who is depressed?

know that i understand that you don’t know what to say. because yes this sucks. and i don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to wish you were dead. and i am so jealous of you for that. but please treat me the same as everyone else. please love me. make
me laugh. invite me to go shopping with you. get shit faced with me. help me fill the gaping hole in my soul with pointless memories of laughter and small talk. talk about life with me. listen to what i have to say. let me love you.

yes, i have depression. trust me, i will never forget! but please, help me feel normal. i don’t want to feel different than you. i want to be your peer, not your charity case.

i am dying to make friends. i am dying to spend less time in this bed writing shit like this. i am tired of letting this god damn disease walk all over me like i’m a fucking patch of dead grass.

life sucks. but please remind me that winter fades to spring. please remind me that some flowers are seasonal, and not every flower spends its whole life in bloom. remind me that you have to spend time in the dark to understand just how beautiful life in the sunlight is. remind me that there’s no cure for a bad day like a strawberry daiquiri and deep, controversial conversations with complete strangers.

remind me that my car has a sunroof and that it’s okay to open it up and let my hair get a little messy. remind me that music is better when it’s too loud to really interpret what the artist is saying- but you don’t have to understand to feel some thing.

remind me that i don’t have to lose this fight.

i am fucking hurting. but for the love of god, i’m begging you to help me fix me. because i forget that there’s good in the world. i forget that depression isn’t the boss of me. i forget that i have the whole world in my hands. i forget that there’s life after high school and that it’s okay to be alone some times, but it’s never okay to be lonely.

i will never forget what it is like to have my heart ripped out by a disease that i can’t even lay my hands on. perhaps i can touch the blisters under my eyes from
crying so much. perhaps i can run my hands along the holes i’ve punched in the walls from being so angry with myself. and yes i can feel how my bed is sinking in towards the ground because i spend so much time laying here trying to feel some thing besides utter destruction and loneliness. i can never forget what this disease has done to me. there will always be a piece of my heart that this depression has stolen from
me.

but with loving other people, i can aimlessly work to mend that hole. i can’t do it alone. i need a friend. i need you here with me.

i am so tired of being alone.
i will push you away at first. i may come off as helpless and a bitch. but please, that is the depression talking. it’s not willow.

willow loves the color pink
willow loves wild flowers
willow loves the smell of green onions
willow loves the feeling of sand under her feet
willow loves hearing about your childhood and how you had a speech impediment and a cat named angel
willow loves the smell of rain when it hits a hot sidewalk
willow loves to go barefooted
willow loves establishing connections with animals
willow loves willow, some times she just can’t see it

i need a gentle reminder of what it’s like to be a real normal teenage girl

this shit is hard. and being misunderstood makes it harder.

so i’m saying it loud and clear. my name is willow and i have clinical depression and generalized anxiety. my life has been a series of almost laughably awful events, which have resulted in said mental illnesses. i have been misunderstood, bullied, neglected, and hurt. but my story does not end here. i may never completely overcome my depression, but i will overcome my failure to acknowledge my illness. i will work to educate people about those who suffer as i do. i will help those with depression. i will be the friend that i have never had, but always needed, to anyone who wants it. i will be a testament to the depression that has oppressed me for 8 years now.

depression is not who i am. depression does not define me. what defines me is the fact that i am staying alive even though it is proving to be the biggest struggle that i have ever encountered, and i am asking that you help me and people like me. because it’s not a one person job.

my name is willow. and i’m telling you that depression is a rude ass bitch. but i’m a bigger bitch, and unlike my illness, i have the power to make people feel loved and valid. and i will use that power to overcome my depression.

i would like to dedicate this journal entry to everyone reading it. i may go to school with you, you may be just a random tumblr user, you may suffer with depression, you may suffer with some other deeply oppressive situation, you may just be a happy son of a bitch.
it doesn’t matter who you are. let this. journal entry be a testament to your life.

there are people with depression. and there is no way that i can ever explain to you just how it feels via tumblr text post or even via socratic seminar complete with gardens of text books and instructional videos. all i can say is that in this life, you are responsible for being there for the people around you.

you never know what someone is going through. people with depression practically have licenses and 4 year degrees in the field of putting up facades of being okay and sucking it up and repressing those explosive emotions. they don’t expect you to give a shit about them, because as far as they’re concerned, nobody has given a shit,
nobody currently gives a shit, and nobody ever will give a shit about them. they make it hard to help. but it’s so important that you break down those walls. and some times, all you need to do is smile at someone or invite someone to eat after school or to go to a party. you can’t do much for someone with depression. like i said, they’re a whole world away. their concerns and struggles are immaculate, indescribable. however, it doesn’t take much to show someone that you care even a little bit. even if it’s just picking and giving them a random flower.

if you suffer from depression or know anyone with depression and you need someone to look to for advice/help/inspiration, my DM’s are open. oversharing is caring. i know what it’s like to want to take your own life, and i fought the urge to do so even while writing this journal entry.

i am here for you. you are not by yourself. please DM me if you ever need someone to send you pictures of a cute animal to cheer you up, or if you even need me to talk you out of suicide. i know both feelings.

if you’re reading this,
i challenge you to go out of your comfort zone. yes you. i challenge you to do this one easy thing at either work or school, or out in public or in your family

1. pick 3 flowers, they can be store bought or you can have picked them yourself

2. give one flower to someone who you worry might have depression

2. give one flower to a random person who you don’t know

3. give one flower to a person you would like to get to know better, you never know when someone desperately needs a friend


it’s just a flower, but you could save someone’s life. some times, all people need is a gentle reminder that good things still exist and that somebody is thinking about them.

don’t be the person that assumes too high of a role or makes an excuse to not be able to participate in this challenge or share this journal.

you never know when you can save someone’s life.

remember: no matter who you are, i love you. and i am willing to comfort you in times of need. i’ve been where you are. and i know how much ass depression sucks.

my DM’s are open, and so is your future.
don’t end your story this early.

—  Willow Scalisi 4/18/17 (dam i just realized sonic got half priced burgers today, turn up)

breyito  asked:

Hi, I know its monday and you probably have tons of things to do, but could I get some fluff, please? It's been an awful weekend(one of the most loved grandmas of the neighbourhood died saturday) and my grandma(who I haven't seen in years) died today and we can't go to her funeral. I am a breath away from an anxiaty attack and later today I have to go back to college alone, after weeks in family. So please, can I have some Tony&Peter or Tony&the bots or Tony&Harley&Peter&Rhodey fluff?? Thanks

Aw burrito. :C


Tony ran a hand through his hair and sighed, dipping his head. “Okay. All of you have new wheels. You have new screws. Dum-E has a new strut because he bent his somehow–”

Dum-E let out a happy beep and spun in a circle. Butterfingers and U watched him for a moment before following suit. Sometimes they really were like little kids that copied their older brother.

“Sir,” JARVIS said. “You speak as if Dum-E didn’t bend his strut trying to keep an engine from falling on you.”

“Shh,” Tony answered immediately, scowling.

That had been a… frightening day. Tony didn’t like to admit that he made mistakes, but he had, the chain hadn’t been checked properly, the engine hadn’t been anchored properly, Tony hadn’t done everything properly. It was his fault.

He had been so–so scared when the chain slipped and the engine started to fall–more scared that when he battled Doom Bots or sentient slime, because this–this was what he did for fun, and he’d felt a little betrayed over it, even if it had been his fault. So many calculations had run through his head and he still hadn’t been able to get out of the way in time.

And then Dum-E–dear, sweet, foolish Dum-E–had let out a terrified squeal and clenched his claw around the alternator, and the sudden weight had caused his strut to bend with the stress, almost fold in half, and his servos had whirred frantically.

Butterfingers and U had zipped over, wheels leaving burnt rubber on the floor, to hurriedly grasp the engine. They’d beeped at each other and moved together to settle the engine on the floor a few feet away as Dum-E creaked his arm down to tap Tony’s face with his claw. Tony had felt awful that Dum-E had had to damage himself to save him.

“This should stand up to any engines,” he said to himself, reaching out to run his hand over Dum-E’s strut. Dum-E rolled closer to let him. Tony smiled tremulously. “Good boy, saving your dumb old daddy.”

Dum-E let out an offended beep and shoved his open claw against Tony’s stomach, curling it just slightly so that he was holding Tony’s waist.

“Dum-E does not like it when you call yourself dumb,” JARVIS supplied.

“Oh, but it’s okay when I do it to him,” Tony said, lifting a hand to wipe away–sweat, yeah, sweat.

Dum-E pressed closer to him, chassis bumping against his knees. He beeped again. It sounded… fond.

“I love you,” Tony blurted out, wrapping his arms around the bot as well. “I know I don’t say it enough, but–I do.”

Butterfingers and U rolled over to grasp at his shirt and arm, beeping quietly.

“We love you too, Sir,” JARVIS said quietly, part translation and part sincere.

Tony pressed his forehead to Dum-E strut.

He’d kind of figured that, when Dum-E had grabbed a falling car engine to keep it from killing him at the expense of his own arm.

Won’t Let Go

Title: Won’t Let Go

Summary: When you return to the bunker with Sam, you realize how shaken Dean is after everything that has happened. All you want to do is comfort him but he ends up promising you something you never thought he would.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 1063

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of blood and death. Spoilers for the episode 12x22 “Who We Are”. Bit of fluff because let’s be real, we all need this.

Author’s Note: So. The two hour finale. It killed me. And episode 22? Also killed me. Jensen’s acting killed me. I’m just completely dead right now, okay? So, I had to write this because my Deanie Beanie deserves all the love and comfort in the world *clears throat* *pulls herself together*

Right. This is set right after the last scene of the episode, meaning right after that group hug the three Winchesters share. The gif used is not mine. You can find it here

Enjoy <3 


The steady sound of running water overwhelmed your senses as you bonked your head against the shower door, washing away worries and fears and that little voice in the back of your mind that told you it was impossible for you to be there, to be back in the bunker again, alive and safe and almost unscathed.

Breathing deeply, in and out, you wrapped yourself around a towel, and got out of the shower slowly, eyes already darting towards the fresh scars and wounds covering your skin.

You should be used to it by now, but the thought of dying, of leaving this world, even in a blaze of glory with Dean and Sam next to you, had scared you more than you’d like to admit.

In and out.

Running your fingers through your hair, you let the towel drop to the floor and reached for your underwear, then slipped into one of Dean’s flannels, mind drifting to him almost intuitively. You’d only seen him for a few moments after you and Sam had returned from your mission, but you could tell that, whatever he’d seen in that dream sequence inside Mary’s head had hurt him. Really hurt him, even though he’d never say that out loud.

And, God, you worried about him.

In and out.

Soon enough, you were in the room you shared with Dean, only to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, holding what you knew was a picture of himself and his mother in hand.

Your heart broke.

“Hi there.” You whispered, leaning against the doorframe.

He looked up then, green eyes lighting up just a bit as he registered your presence.

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Two Nights Stand Part 4

Summary: (Modern Au) After a bad breakup, your roommate insists that you need to a one night stand to end your dry spell. Following her advice, you have a bad one night stand with Bucky Barnes, but what happened when you are forced to spend time with him?

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1617

Warnings: This is vaguely inspired by a movie of the same name. In the future, the series will be having smut so be warned. This chapther has talking about cheating.

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Credits to the gifs owners

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

“Do you want to play 20 questions?” He laughs while stealing your m&m’s. “How old are we? Sixteen?” He says playful, taking a sip of his beer “Come on, Bucky. We are stuck in here and we have nothing else to do. Is there any better way to get to know each other?”

“Fine, but I go first, princess. What do you do for a living?” You look at him, you didn’t know that he would ask serious questions. You were imagining he would ask fun ones, definitely related to sex ones.

 “I work for a law firm, it’s a really boring job but it pays the bills.” You answer smiling at him before you can make your own question he asks you again.  “And what would you like to do for living? You look like someone who would like to be a writer or a doctor.”

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