i-felt-the-need-to-write-this

anonymous asked:

Hi, I've been feeling kinda down lately can you help me cheer up ):

hello anon :)
i’ve tried writing out the answer to this ask a couple times now, trying to find the right words to say to you. first off I wanna say, you’re amazing. you really are, and u need to know that u are!
second, I understand feeling down isn’t the best feeling in this world. and you might not be feeling good about yourself too. so i’m here to tell u a few words 

1. its okay to be sad. we have a lot of feelings and sometimes they demand to be felt. you wont be sad forever and who knows maybe tomorrow will be a good day!
2. better days are coming!! one day ur gonna wake up and be like, wow! life is amazing! and you know what, you deserve that. you honestly do. you’re a beautiful human being that deserves it 💓
3. i love u and care about u a lot! I really do! you matter to me and I hope u can be happy soon :) happy and smiling bc wow u look great when u smile :,)

I’ll post a couple funny and cute vines of the boys just incase that’s what u were hoping for in the beginning :) sorry for squeezing in that small talk, I just love to see people happy and it really makes me smile

have a lovely day anon!
-admin emily

5

Hello there August.  I want you to be aware that I am fully on to your horseshit, August. It’s still the summer and I won’t have you ruin it by trying to rush the fall here.  I mean, Christ, I walked to the grocery store this morning and it was so hot and humid out I was sweating two steps out the door.  But here you are pushing back to school and talking about fall fashions.  Fuck you, I won’t have it, ti’s still summer and you can’t take it away from us early.  I mean back to school, kids only get so much time off, let’s not ruin it.  August, leave those kids alone!  Tangentially related I started watching Wet Hot American Summer The First Day of Camp last night.  Man that’s a lot to write out, I almost just wrote Wet Hot American Summer but i am sure someone would have felt the need to mention that Lake Bell was not in Wet Hot American Summer.  I am aware.  She is in the First Day of Camp though and it is a nice addition.  Because Lake Bell is funny.  And she is gorgeous.  And she is one of the additions they made that feels like it makes a ton of sense.  She fits in with this cast and frankly had she been a bigger deal 15 years ago I am sure she would have had a place in the movie.  Anyway, I am enjoying it.  I am watching another episode right now.  So here is Lake Bell because today I want to fuck Lake Bell.

4

A story about a weekend at the sea, and about driving at dusk in search of something at a time in my life when I needed it.

I first released this in May 2014 (I think). I always quite liked it, but I didn’t ever really give if a proper release or the attention I should have, the drawings particularly. So some stuff happened, and it felt like a good time to revisit it, and give it a new lease of life.

This version is fully redrawn, and features a new epilogue.

Printed at home and assembled and trimmed by hand.

  • A6 (105x148mm)
  • 40 pages of prose and drawings
  • 17 full page illustrations
  • White card cover, B&W throughout

BUY IT HERE!

So I just had a major urge to write a Harry Potter/LIS crossover. Like I just imagined Chloe as a Metamorphmagus (so her hair can still be blue c:) and then idk, Max could have a time turner(?) It would defs be Pricefield but what houses would I put everyone into… Oh my god guys I’ve not felt so motivated to write in ages…

I can see Jeffersonofabitch being DADA teacher (I want Snape to rip him to shreads :^) ) 

What do you guys think?

Starting today I’m gonna try doing something productive on a daily basis, even if it’s something very minor. For example earlier this afternoon I finally got around to calling the haircut place that I’ve been putting off for months, and it felt nice to finally get around to calling them. Eventually I want to do things like research how to write a good cover letter and revise my resume, and actually start submitting job applications again because I’m sick and tired of my underpaid job that gives me less than 12 hours a week. I want to feel that sense of accomplishment of doing something I’ve been putting off for a long time, no matter how little it is like cleaning my room and folding my washed clothes, I really need to pull myself out of this pit of misery and hatred for myself and life.

Also pleeeeaaaaase send me words of encouragement from time to time I would love it and would feel a tiny bit less worthless if more people I knew reminded me on a more regular basis that they don’t actually hate my guts like I worry they do 99% of the time

I’ve spent a lot of time craving for someone. I wanted a presence to reassure me when I fell asleep. I wanted eyes that said « you’re beautiful ». I wanted a smile every time I felt happy and sometimes when I felt sad too. I wanted hands to wipe my tears when I’m done crying. I wanted a voice to tell me « I love you » and « I believe in you ».
I need someone that will care and take care of me unconditionally. I want someone that will love me now and forever.

And I realized that I’ll find that someone in no one else but me.

—  hanellie

i sincerely don’t get how you can be fan of a certain group bit still whitewash and soften photos of them to death. Why do you feel the need to be so disrespectful? you literally changed someones skin colour! or you ripped it of bcs some edits out there are just sick.Also you soften their skin so much it looks like 3D render, they have skin, and maybe sometimes you will see some unevenness.. so what they are not perfect and that’s totally fine, don’t try to portray them as some gods/goddesses who are perfect all over. It doesn’t help anyone. 

so please stop being so disrespectful and don’t rip off their skin colour. If you say you support your faves then actually do so. 

Keep reading

Tipsy

Hawke leaned past him to set his drink on the table and Fenris froze. His heart felt funny. Weak.

Hawke’s scent was clean and familiar. Strong soap, fresh air, flannel and pine. It washed over Fenris when he was near, and did strange things to his pulse.

Everyone was laughing. Hawke had told a joke, but he’d missed it, his blood a dull roar in his ears.

He was drunk – no, not drunk. Warm. Tipsy, perhaps, but not – no – Hawke. Two and a half years he’d known the mage now. Two and a half eye-opening years at the man’s side, just a few steps behind him, ready to be called on for violence. It was a position he was familiar with, and yet it had proven devastatingly unfamiliar.

Hawke spoke to him. Not at him. To him. Hawke asked his opinion. Traded stories. Told awful jokes.

Hawke – made him feel things. Want things. Terrible, shattering, confusing…things.

Hawke –

They flirted. It didn’t hurt anything. It was – fun. Hawke’s fault, again. Fenris could remember that first offhand scrap of flattery – seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf. He’d laughed. Until he’d realized Hawke was serious.

Sometimes, on nights like this, Hawke would put his hand on his leg. And it didn’t bother him. Sometimes Fenris would want to be close to him. Closer. Sometimes he wondered what those hands felt like – large and strong and steady.

Hawke caught his eye as he sat back in his chair, and Fenris caught his breath. There was a way Hawke looked at him – no one had ever looked at him like – no one had ever made him feel like – made him want –

“Oh, for the love of - !” Isabela threw down her cards. “Just kiss him already!”

Reality slammed into Fenris like a blow from Aveline’s shield, but it was Hawke who nearly leapt out of his chair. Hawke who had been staring, he realized, at his lips.

“Two years we’ve had to watch this! Can you even feel your balls anymore, boys? Stop teasing me, and kiss him already!”

“Please don’t,” Anders protested.

“We weren’t – “ Fenris said, just as Hawke said, “I really don’t think – “

They looked at each other, then found excuses to look away. Awkward silence and another round of drinks were required before Isabela could finally be enticed into a change of subject.

“You – should kiss me,” Fenris said, in front of his mansion, when Hawke walked him home. It was late, the night around them dark and satiny and filled with stars, and, warm and fuzzy with booze, the elf found he couldn’t stop thinking about Hawke’s hands, and arms, and his mouth.

He’d never wanted – never needed – never thought

Hawke grinned and leaned in toward him, over him. His hand stroked his cheek, and his arm went around his waist, and his lips –

Fenris could smell sweet honey whiskey on his breath, and feel the warmth of his skin. His heart – he wanted –

“Ask me again when you’re sober,” Hawke said.

Hawke’s lips brushed his forehead, his arm slid from his waist.

And Fenris watched Hawke walk away into the Hightown night.

The Hart Family

Boop boop!”

The noise seemed to capture the baby’s attention, drawing it closer to the computer. It’s fingers delicately (yeah, right) touching the screen, leaving small, oily fingerprints on the surface. The baby giggled at seeing the mark it left, prompting it to hit the screen again. It continued like this for awhile, before realizing that the people that were trapped in the screen were people it knew.

They were it’s parents.

“Han, come look, she’s already an MDK fan!” Ingrid beckoned Hannah over from the living room.

“Grid, I don’t think the baby needs exposure to drunkenness just yet.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, Han.”

“She’s going to grow up without the influence of alcohol. Babies act drunk enough already.” Hannah replied, as she walked into the room. She reached over and picked the baby up, cooing and rocking it. “How’s it going, Ava? You getting your little self in trouble?”

Ava gurgled, a small laugh escaping her lips. Hannah handed her over to Ingrid, Ava’s actual birth mother.

It was a long debate on who would carry the baby. Hannah offered, as she was willing to, but Ingrid insisted she did. They got in contact with a sperm donor, who was similar in looks and ethnicity to Hannah. Ingrid had a fairly easy pregnancy, despite multiple vomiting episodes, and a twelve hour delivery. Hannah never wanted to see Ingrid in that much pain again, but once they had Ava in their arms, they knew they would do this all over again.  Ava turned out to be a beautiful little girl, with long, curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and the cutest smile they had ever seen. Her face seemed to resemble Ingrid’s in a way, making Hanah so happy that her pride and joy looked like the love of her life.

Ava was almost 6 months old, tomorrow would be her first half-birthday. Hannah nor Ingrid could believe that time flew by so fast. It had been the best (almost) 6 months of their lives.

“Now, little Ms. Hart, it’s time for a nap.” Ingrid said as she brought Ava to her crib, and gently lowered her onto the soft mattress.

Hannah walked over and wrapped her arms around Ingrid as she stared lovingly at her family.

The Hart family.

Second chances

A/N: I kind of combined these two requests, ‘cause I felt they’re quite similar. Also, sorry if it feels like I’m dragging the story a bit but it waS SUPER INTERESTING TO WRITE + Imma probably do a part two for this bc HOLY SHIT LUKE MESSED UP & I need you guys to tell me how you’d want this to end (she forgives him and they get back together vs she marries someone else)
Words: 2000+
Pairing: Luke + reader 

All my writing | Wattpad

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She engulfed Luke in her sexy bad girl vibe, her open mind, and the dirty mixed smell of cheap cigarettes and the bar he was a regular visitor of. He didn’t even notice when the long recording days in the studio started to be continuously followed by short and steamy nights in her bed, when his wife at home merely felt like a roommate he’d see twice a week, when he started lying to his own band so he could take his newly found girlfriend out of the city for a weekend. He didn’t notice all that and he sure as hell didn’t see you starting to catch on. You felt like a freaky stalker, when you started secretly sniffing his clothes, checking his collar and his pockets, when you got his credit card statements or when you started randomly ‘swinging by’ the studio to check if he’s ever there. He was, most of the times. But the ones he wasn’t, and nobody could tell you where he was, you knew for a fact – your husband was cheating on you.

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Dear James,

Happy birthday, you saved my life and even though you don’t know me and I don’t really know you, you’re kind of my bestfriend and your never gonna read this (and I kind of hope you dont) but you are so important and you mean so much to me and thousands like me! You make people smile and for some you’re the only reason they do smile and I am being dumb and I’m being silly, but I just wanted to thank you, for everything you do and just for always being there with a new video when times get bad. Happy 24th you amazing spectacular dork.

Love, Saoirse (and thousands like her) 

Heartstrings

I feel hands blundering blindly inside the open cavity of my chest.
My broken ribs stabbing me, as if my own bones have turned against the body that gave them life.
This isn’t open heart surgery.
You can’t pull on my heartstrings like guitar chords, pick or no pick they’re not meant to be played this way.
You can’t squeeze the life out of the one thing I have left that keeps me going.
You can’t grind the already broken glass of my soul deeper into the concrete, until I’m only a thin white powder, scattered so easily by fragile gusts of wind.
Because of you I have no substance anymore.
And so I hang here, there’s no gravity while you’re falling.
Maybe if I wallow long enough, I’ll forget what I’m sad about.
Forget the feeling of fullness, and how empty I really am.
Maybe, if I take my time I won’t feel it as you weave your fingers between each and every heartstring, I won’t feel them pull tighter as you adjust your grip.
And maybe, if there’s some ounce of luck left in me, I won’t feel it when you severe them completely.

- O.C.

the stars among us - part 1

Charlie has come to accept that weird stuff is just going to be a part of her life, but truth be told, she likes to have a comfortable break of six months to a year between the bouts of weird. But last week the sky was alight with what Dean says were falling angels, and Charlie’s busy rereading the Supernatural books about Anna and working out exactly what thousands of fallen angels means for the world – which as far as she can work out just means a few thousand extra people wandering around with amnesia and no applicable life skills.

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Like Waves WIll Find the Shore

Lover I’m lost
Lost inside the abyss
My thoughts, my thoughts
Are all that give me bliss
Lover I miss you
Miss the touch of your body
Finding warmth in your embrace
Porcelain visage garbed in elegant lace
Lover you’ve left me
Left me in your sleep
Gone, gone
Never mine to keep
Lover I’m lost
Lost without you once more, but
I’ll find you again my love
Like waves will find the shore.