i-lo-ve-you

anonymous asked:

chicago, los angeles, toronto

Chicago: What do you ache for?

I suppose… I think I could trace all my longings, my infatuations and daydreams and the pulls I feel when reading or looking at or listening to something beautiful to a deep and aching desire for my life to be poetic, or cinematic, or novelistic. I want a story like all the extraordinary people admire, not that I think I’m particularly extraordinary myself, but I’ve always wanted mystery and adventure  put it down to being an avid reader since my developmental stages - I was reading Harry Potter by the time I started school thanks to my teacher mother). I love the Jeff Buckley quote ‘I just wanted to have a completely adventurous, passionate, weird life’ and I think that’s the primary ‘distant star’, the ache I have from which all of my other longings spring as a sort of attempt to find that strange, sometimes melancholy greyscale world I’ve always imagined I would live in.


Los Angeles: What would you change about yourself?

There are a lot of things about me which are probably not ideal, but maybe this is true of everybody and I think the main thing I struggle with about myself is my timidity. I’m not sure if it springs from any particular event in my life, I’ve just always been shy and I think it’s prevented a lot of things from happening to me. I have some horrible shyness which makes other people nervous to approach me. I’ve been trying to be more assertive (my new year’s resolution for 2015 was to ‘be ruder’) but it’s a struggle. Being shy, self-contained and generally happy with being alone means I can genuinely see myself spending most of my life on my own and I’m not sure how much I want that. I don’t know what I want! I also think it would make me a very hard person to live with.


Toronto: Describe your ideal partner.

Well, he (or she, who knows what will happen) would certainly have to understand and respect my need for space. I would have to be comfortable to do my own thing if we were living together, they would have to understand that being separate doesn’t mean we’re not together. They probably would have to read a lot, and go with me to the cinema and put up with me talking about films and books. I’d love to be able to have with them the conversations I have with my father - we’re both very interested in culture and arts and ideas and have really long stimulating discussions which is a very special thing to be able to have with someone. I would hope I trusted them with advice and they did me. They would have to prefer the city to the country, and enjoy travel, and wandering aimlessly about cities with me, just exploring. They’d also have to be very patient because I can be quite hotheaded, especially when provoked and I don’t think two hotheads in my case would allow for a peaceful relationship. They would have to have drive and passion for something (other than me) and value hard work. Also they have to like my cooking!! that is a deal-breaker!!!

thank you for asking xx

your fantrolls are hella dank so here u go c:

oh
oH

OHHH OH MY GOD O

OHO O OOO OHOOH MMMMMY OH M AN I’M FFFREKAING OUT THIS!!! IS!!!!!!!!! SSSSO GOOD OOH MY GOD ITS BEAUTIFUL I CANT BELIEVE THIS IM GOIGN TO D O 20934329 JUMPING JACKS AND RUN LAPS AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

( DEAN );

     why not? he nearly replies, the bottle of whiskey he’d downed without thought coursing through his veins, giving him the liquid courage he needs to get through this fight. other responses are poised at his fingertips ( fuck you, why are you doing this?, i’m sorry baby, i miss you) but none of them feel RIGHT—they all feel weak and they make him seem vulnerable, and the last thing dean wants is to look like a mess over something so TINY, so stupid ( but is stiles really giving him any other choice? )

       but dean doesn’t DESERVE forgiveness. he doesn’t deserve something good and whole that the darkness in his heart will only corrupt and consume ; sooner or later he’s only going to leave stiles tainted, broken ( and possibly dead ). maybe this is for the better—maybe this is some sort of divine interference of god’s part. you’ve killed enough people, dean. don’t kill him, too. 

[ MSG: STILES. ]: okay. alright. im sorry

      as much as he hated typing those words it just felt necessary. but deep down he didn’t want dean to stop. in fact he’s curled up on his mattress, replaying the voicemails and listening to the sound of his voice. truly he’s being idiotic. what’s the point of doing this when one simple text message can change it all and everything can feel RIGHT again. there’s an inhale of breath although it feels like a heavy weight is pressing against his chest. 

      whiskey hues are gazing at the four words & fingers itch to type something back. seconds pass into minutes and he’s still racking his brain thinking of something to say. holding dean by a thread and it’s so, so wrong although he can’t bring himself to just let things go. instead he doesn’t and soon there’s a message being sent right back. 

✉ ( sms: dean ): you could at least have the balls to do it in person.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KENDALL!! it's hard to believe i've known you for like 4 years wowie i'm really sorry i didn't have the time to make something better for you i really wish i could have but i hope that you have an amazing birthday AND YO YOU'RE 17 YOU'RE THE DANCING QUEEN happy birthday lovely i love you i wish i could be there to celebrate with you save me some cake yeah?? love u love u