i was feeling so down today

anonymous asked:

Louis looks so unwell in that new fan photo from today. My heart is breaking , I don't understand why he never seems to look better or rested like he's been increasingly getting more worn down looking and I don't get why nobody in his life is doing anything about it. It's killing me seeing him look like this and feeling powerless. I just hope his tired appearance has nothing to do with him and Harry :(

Oh yes my dear nonnie poo. Everything is tits up in Louis’ life. You, like myself, can’t help but take amazing pictures every single moment of our lives. We don’t suffer like lesser beings with unflattering pictures, or harsh lighting. Nor dabble in the common practice of being gracious to a fan and allow a spontaneous photo! The gall!

No, everything is horrible. Harry has left Louis for an oversize sombrero and is living his life in the remote country of Genovia waiting for the pears to be in season.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Clarity: 4


Chapter 4: Truth Hurts

Summery: She skipped her session for a break, while he skipped his for a breather.

Bucky x Blind Reader

Friday was always rolling around sooner then expected. At times, I find my self caught by surprise when mother wakes me in the afternoon to get ready. Non the less, I found my life getting better. Doctors called last Monday to notify us of the cornia transplant, brother was happy, very excited and seemed to work longer hours just to make sure he has the money when the time comes.

“Good afternoon.” I spoke lightly, as I heard mystery man pull back his chair and sit down. He mumbled, the usual. Then shuffled around the table, nothing unusual.

A smile graced my lips, this had become so normal now, I finally feel like I’m not being pushed away from the world. His musk seemed to be thicker today, his coughs caught me by surprise as he muffled a couple of sneezes.

“G'afternoon.” He pushed around his belongings momentarily stopping to look around, or so I thought. “Why are you smiling like that?” He asked, I didn’t notice, but after his statement left his mouth my hand had jerked up to trace over my lips.

“Oh, I’m just happy.” I said honestly. I wanted to tell him my eye operation would be done soon, but then again, I want to come on whatever following Friday and scare him by telling him how he looks.

“It’s creepy.” He finished, clearing his throat. He coughed a string of curses, before grumbling around for tissues in his back pack. “So what are you happy?”

“Not much, it’s just been so boring lately.” It was just all honesty. I had tipped my brother into not telling anyone about my eye operation, and all the other good news. After almost four years of being blind, things were finally looking up.

“Whatever.” He whispered, his voice thick and scratchy.

It was unexpected. What happened that Thursday. I had decided to play “Marco- Polo” with brother, it only seemed to fit. I knew the outline of my house now like the back of my hand. Plus it was just something to keep me and brother closer.

So we played around eight rounds, before I ran into the kitchen and slipped over a small puddle of water on the tile. I fell, and broke my arm.

I was hurriedly pushed to the hospital. Dad cursing at brother for being reckless, and mom running her hand through my hair as brother was driving us.

I was laughing, it didn’t exactly hurt to the point where I would crumble and fall. I saw the faint smile my brother was sporting, but decided wasn’t the time to burst into a bubbly laugh.

My arm was wrapped just slightly, it was sprained. Not broken, hence the pain wasn’t big on my part. So when the next morning came, I was getting ready, but mother burst into my room while I was struggling to place my shirt on the right side.

She sounded happy, or excited I had gotten up with a smile and not a frown. But then stopped in her tracks once I had mentioned the support group. I only asked who was going to take me, but apparently. She wasn’t having it.

“Your not going.” She stated, her voice firm and aggressive. I could already imagine her ramming the pad of her feet over the hard wood floor.

“Mom, I have to go.” I cried, pushing my hair with my right arm. Fixing the blue sweater over my left wrapped hand.

“Your not going and it’s final.” She shuffled her feet, walking to exit the room. But I wasn’t having any of it, instead I gambled, throwing my hand to grab her forearm.

She swished her head back so fast her hair had gathered around my eyes before falling to her waist.

“What do you think your doing?” Her voice was menace. Soft, thundering her reaction.

“I want to go!” I screamed, shoving her closer to me. It was a different feeling, like I knew whatever the outcome I was going to stay home no matter what. But there was that small lit candle that dwindled at the brim, chanting for me to fight back.

“Your hurt, you won’t go-” She had shoved me hard, I fell to my bed with a thump, curling in a ball scared I was going to hit something else. “Stay here.” Mother choked. Brushing her way out of the room.

I laid there, eyes screwed shut, hands balled close to my face as my body curled to itself. I didn’t remember much. It was odd. That night had ended faster then I had expected.

And so, Monday came we didn’t talk to each other. It was weird having her lace her hand around mine. I was always flinching each time she would come to pull me to the right path, before murmuring things under her breath. And it stung hard, because that one action had reminded me about my mystery man in the library.

Tuesday, was like a foggy day. It’s just been a few days since I had gotten my arm wrapped. So I had to start flexing my fingers, in hopes of removing the bandages on Thursday. Non the less, father had stayed home to take care of me, instead. So it was fun conversations with him, giggles here and chuckles there.

Wednesday felt like cold water dripping over my body. I was over anxious, the Doctor had updated us about my eye transplant. It would be sooner then expected, and then having brother telling us that he just needs a few more pay checks.

Thursday was pretty slow. I took a shower that morning the second I had gotten the wraps off my hand. Picking out my outfit- brothers eyes were my handy picking tool- he was crying, tired and just wanted to sleep but this was just good news on top of good news. Everything was looking up if anything I would be able to see before January. And that’s just a month away.

Walking in the library was harder then I thought. Skipping a week of my ritual almost resulted in my memories fading away.  Even tho, my trusty old metal rod helped click the echo.

Pushing the glass door, I was met with the peaceful atmosphere. The cool breeze from outside had me chattering in my boots, but the warm radiation of the fireplace was reaching to the brim of the room.

I walked to my table, I had applied lip stick today. Begging brother to apply it for me. I’ve seen him do it for his ex-Girlfriend. Something about relationship goals. He made it look perfect, so I begged him to make me look pretty today. My hair was braided, father took the liberty to play with the roots and came up with a Dutch braid.

The clicking of pen on table had engulfed my drums. I knew it was him. Getting settled in, I pushed my bag over the table this time, phone and headphones in hand as I presented the stranger with my perky whites.

“Good afternoon.” I hoped whatever happened last week he would understand. Sure I would probably get angry if he were to decide to just up and leave. But still, I had a great reason.

“You didn’t come last week.” Damn, always the blunt one. He didn’t even greet me, instead cut to the chase. He’s stubborn, and mean. I noted he hadn’t made any sound. The pen had been forgotten the second he noticed I was here.

“Long story.” I whispered, my smile slightly frowned. Wishing he would drop it. Even so, I’m still not telling him about my operation date, or any of the information.

“I have time.” He said. It came out fast, his arms must be squared over his chest, his eyes scanning me over.- What did he say the color of his eyes were agin? Green… no blue. He said blue. With his brown hair, it must be short because I had never herd him shuffle it around.

“I was running and slipped, sprained my whole arm.”

“Well, that wasn’t such a long story.” His sarcasm wasn’t needed. What was once his presence lacing a smile to my face was now vise Versa.

“Mother and I had a fight, it was long, practically the whole week. When Friday came I was getting dressed But she didn’t allow me.”

He snorted once I finished my explanation. His index finger found the hard wood table and tapped an annoying tune.

“Your so helpless.” He started, his knuckles wrapping the table slightly. As if trying to get rid of his excess anger. “Obviously your mom won the argument.” He chuckled to himself entire adding a noiseless, “Useless.”

I just tilted my head, braid falling to the side my eyes scanning the room even when I couldn’t even see anything. “What?”

“Why are you letting your mom treat you like a baby?” His arguments were just starting for sure. “Your accepting your mothers babying matters.”

I didn’t know what to say, agree with him and just let him shut up, or fight with him and end up sad for another whole week. “What do you mean?”

“Your not attending collage, you don’t have a job, your living at home twenty-four, seven.” He listed, his tone sharp and ready. “Your literally painting the perfect wounded puppy that needs babying.” He was harsh, something must have happened back home at his place because his voice was worse then the last two Friday’s.

“It’s not like I can do anything…” I said, pushing my phone closer to my chest.

“Why?” He challenged. Scooting closer to the table as his musk enveloped my personal bubble.

“Because I’m blind. There isn’t much I can do.” I said, waiting for his smart remark.

“Well I’m sorry if you want me to pity you.” He was sarcastic for sure, the way his voice was scratching its way out of his throat. “Your just useless.” He concluded.

“I don’t understand how I couldn’t be useless.” I stated, tears were costing my eyes, for sure if he said anything else to hurt my feelings there would be a dam. “There aren’t any jobs that I could do when I’m blind.” I wished I could spell it out for him, but we were at a library and his thick tone was hard to understand in the least.

“For gods sake, if you want to make choices for yourself then you need to get a backbone.” He chucked out. “Your mom has to be the first person you stand up Against.” He concluded, his chair squeed from under his pressure.

“I can’t-”

“Because your useless.”

“I’m not useless,” I interrupted him. “Just because I sit at home all day long doesn’t mean I’m usele-” Before I could even finish off my sentence, it all clicked in place. Like a far forgotten puzzle. I was being pushed around by mother because I was acting as though she owned me. Like I was… useless. “Your right.”

“Of course I’m right.” There is the man I knew- somewhat. But the tone and the type of words he just now used… they were my mystery man’s actions.

I didn’t say anything from that point on. I didn’t say much when he stood up to visit the little boys room. I didn’t say much when I had just threw my phone in my bag. I want to do something, get a job.

The best part… I knew exactly how to get one. I should have done this years ago, brother was working his ass off these past few years. What was I doing? Lounging around while he worked like a slave for Mr. Tony Stark.

Time caught on, so I stood. Wrapping my things in place before I was stopped by a sudden voice. “Give me your phone.” He said.

I looked back, distinguishing where the voice had come from. Once I was sure I was facing him I handed him my phone. Only to realize that I was facing him a little to the side. He grumbled under his breath a sting of incoherent sentences, he clicked my phone open, then typed in his number.

“Siri can get to your contacts right?”


“Good.” He shut my phone off and carefully detached my phone over to my waiting palm. Our skin touched, and it felt amazing. He was warm, despite the feel he gave. “I put my number as ‘A Person’ So I would would be easy to find.” He concluded, I cursed under my breath. I honestly thought he would give me his number. But apparently he was very smart. “Call me if you won’t be able to make it the following Friday’s.” he ushered me out by following his explanation with a sudden. “Have a Good Friday.”

I wrapped my phone around my chest. I knew I had to try hard to get a job before this Friday.

Originally posted by romanian-plum

Gosh, the story is finally going to pick up. Now it’s the climax… let’s hope all you guys can spot the time!

here is the MasterList  to catch up on anything: //Masterlist

Tagging still opens: @smilexcaptainx @damnbuckyishot @xaivierkun @solsticestorm @heyitsarial @killer-stiles @gingerbatchwife @coffeeismylife28 @themistsofmyavalon @shamvictoria11 @my-jekyll-doesnt-hide @heyitsarial @thelovablesociopath-blog @itsemz @slashheartlover @solsticestorm @crazybarnes @satanssmuts @caitsymichelle13

anonymous asked:

I had a mental break down today at school, so bad I had to lock myself away in the bathroom in the middle of class so no one could see me, and I had to look up Viktuuri on tumblr to get myself to smile again

Omg are you okay? Please tell me your okay now? I don’t want you to be alone durring those times. Please be safe. I hope you can find a safe place at school. And I’m glad that you were feeling better after seeing Viktuuri on tumblr.

Had an interesting idea today about how my persona’s hair could change with mood, so the lower the mood I feel is the more the colour drains away- until it’s at it’s natural colour and just flops down into my eyes, which is what we call a Code red!
We need snuggles and a cheery movie stat!

But having a few tiny pals around helps a bad mood pass!

(Please don’t reblog my art to NSFW blogs/make lewd comments, thank you!)

I feel terrible, but I can’t remember who asked for today’s prompt. It was either a tumblr instant message or a reply on a post and I didn’t write it down and I can’t find it. Please forgive me!! (Edit: @devouring-time I think it was you!)

Someone asked for Leo and Dorian’s first meeting. I hope you enjoy!

With a sudden, violent motion, Cassandra slammed her hands down onto the table, shoved her seat back, and pushed to her feet. A moment of awkward silence followed her absence long after she stalked from the room.

“Ah,” the Inquisitor cleared his throat, and gave an uncomfortable smile, and rose. “I’ll just – be right back,” he said. “Don’t move.”

“Do you really think you’re going to be of any help?” Hawke asked, when Varric, too, hopped down from his seat. The dwarf only chuckled.

“Help?” he asked. “Maker’s balls – I’m going to hide.”

And then they were alone.

The Champion of Kirkwall was an impressive specimen of a man. Those shoulders. Those arms. The snowy touch of premature grey at his temples did nothing to lessen the visceral manly power of his form – nor did the belly that was getting a bit soft, now that he was no longer keeping the City of Chains from combusting. His looks had a bit of unsophisticated charm about them, as if one could curl up before the fire in some rugged cabin, atop the skin of an animal he’d hunted with his bare hands. He was a compelling fellow.

Which was part of what made it so unfortunate that he seemed to hate the very air that Dorian breathed.

“So…” Dorian said, and the Champion’s stare settled on him, flat and hostile and terribly, terribly unfriendly. Dorian shivered, and rubbed his arms. “Terribly cold, the south, isn’t it?”

Hawke blinked, slowly. His lips thinned. He propped his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. His biceps looked enormous.

“Then, I suppose you would be used to the cold, wouldn’t you? Being Fereldan and all. Such a quaint country you have. Terribly rustic. Tell me – as you must be more travelled now – do you still find you prefer Ferelden over other locals or has some other place caught your fancy?”

Hawke didn’t answer. He stared at him, his jaw set, his lips thin. Dorian found he wouldn’t be surprised to learn the man had never once smiled in his life.

He cleared his throat. “Do you think - ?” he began.

“Stop talking,” Hawke answered.

“Right,” Dorian said. “Just as I thought.”

They sat in utter silence until the others returned.

It took about an hour.


Do Better - creativeone298 - Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Dogma gets a pick-me-up speech from Hardcase

this was originally written for @aerefyr but it definitely involves these two being bros, so I chose this for day 2 of @clonehub‘s BroTP Week!

This ESFJ guy who likes me is so…. wow. He makes me feel like the center of the universe. Today, he visited me here and went with me somewhere and after that we had dinner. After dinner, though, we didn’t go home just yet. We walked around and around and sat down outside my dorm, waiting for curfew. We kept talking and talking about such good things, and we connect in conversations. He is very emotionally intelligent and really, really deep. Selfless, too. And kind. Really kind to everyone.

But I can’t love him. I don’t think I could. The feeling just isn’t there. I don’t know how to tell him this, though. Usually I would tell a guy straight-up I don’t like him, but with him, to know I will hurt such a good person is sad.

You ever have a thought that’s so absurdly you you feel embarrassed by yourself? For me today it was, ‘I bet Jared Dunn likes the song Jesus Was A Crossmaker by Judee Sill.’ And if you don’t believe me, here’s what she had to say about it: “I wanted to write a song about this principle: the lower down you go to gain your momentum from, the higher up it will propel ya.”

anonymous asked:

Where are all the shippers who promoted kindess, love and light. Where are the self-appointed peace makers and feminists fighting against misogyny? WTF, do they not speak up? This is hypocisy of the highest order and making jokes about it and laugh? My goodness! And you have my support in tagging everything incl. my ask with Outlander, shipping, SamCait, SamxCait, the actors' names and what not.

The saddest thing is I’ve seen those who have claimed a fight against misogyny using this same really horrible language, anon. It’s been hard for me to fathom, which is why I finally lost it today. I can’t handle a fandom that cares so little for women and does all it can to bring down women while claiming to hold them up. That’s not the kind of fandom I feel comfortable being apart of.

But I am glad to see some who agree and see the problem…we just need those who are also disturbed to speak up!

Hey y'all, idk if it’s a full moon or what, but it seems like a lot of people on my dash are having a rough day/night and I just wanted to tell y'all you can message me whenever, but like obviously most people aren’t actually gonna take that suggestion to heart (which you should, honestly, but it’s understandable) so I’m just gonna encourage y'all to make it through today/night or however long this weird feeling lasts. Also, if it’s any help, there’s definitely a dog somewhere that would love you more than you’ll ever know so there’s that to lift your spirits

Been feeling down lately… i’ve been sick (a cold) for a week now and there’s also the bruises business that I have no idea what’s happening. Today’s workout was the worst I’ve ever done in forever… so embarrassing. I wanna go to the doctor but I’m at a foreign place so I have no insurance so I’m pretty sure it’ll come out very expensive… 😩😢

kayteonline  asked:

Happy Friday Pauline! So in my random thoughts today, that were probably induced by a little live video last night, and some other uh, thoughts, I came to the conclusion that I believe Jared loves going down on a woman. And he's so good at it I bet his nickname is even tornado tongue, or just simply The Tornado. Thoughts?

Oh Kayte, I can’t discuss RPF headcanons. 😲

Originally posted by cheerfulsammy

Tumblr Wine Party

straight people (and some lgbt people yikes) saying “go to the parade !!! be proud of who you are !! don’t let this change anything !!!” as if someone wasn’t literally just arrested today for taking guns and explosives to the LA pride parade with obvious murderous intentions like ?????? obviously if you go the parade that’s amazing and i’m proud of you but i’m also so so proud of you if you decide to stay home too because you’re afraid. it’s okay to be afraid. this “don’t let them get you down !!!” mentality is so dangerous like i know it’s usually meant with the best of intentions but if someone feels afraid or unsafe they shouldn’t be made to feel bad for not going to a pride event. if you want to stay in your home or if you want to hang out with friends instead of going to a parade that is literally 100000% fine and you do not have to celebrate pride if you personally don’t feel like celebrating. your safety and comfort should be the number one priority.

Today, I fucked up... by flicking my hair

So this morning I jumped in the shower and decided to wash my hair. I have very long and curly hair that reaches midway down my back. However, once its wet the curls straighten out and my hair almost reaches my bum.

So hair is wet, shampooing done and I just need to rinse. I tip my head back and flip my hair over my shoulder ala shampoo adverts everywhere. And feel something brush against the top of my bum. Being the mature and logical gal I am, I came to the one and only possible conclusion.


With a scream a howler monkey would be proud of, boobs flying and looking like some sort of demented mermaid, I attempted to flee the shower stall. And promptly acquired a new skill; the ability to do the splits.

This in itself was a spectacular feat of physics as there isn’t actually enough room in my bathroom for a toddler to do the splits, never-mind a 5'9" half drowned rat. As a result, when my leading foot came into contact with the toilet pedestal my body was launched back along the floor towards the shower. This left me wedged between the toilet and the shower tray.

Where I was abruptly bitch-slapped by the shower door.

One trip to A&E later and I have a sprained ankle, a fractured ankle, two broken toes, a beautiful rainbow of bruises in some interesting places and a partridge in a pear tree.

TL, DR: Upon learning that my hair now reaches my bum I; preformed gymnastics worthy of Rio, made the laws of physics my bitch and took a guided tour of the local hospital.

Another fuck up in the updates…

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