it brought such tear

tinabelcherwrites  asked:

Klaroline (Parent AU)

  • Who cried when they brought their child home for the first time: Klaus would tear up in the nursery while watching the sleeping newborn with no one around. 
  • Who would wake up in the middle of the night to check on the kid(s): Klaus would, especially after the nightmares of Mikael coming and taking the child. 
  • Who changes the kid(s) diapers: I believe they both will, but Klaus would take more pride in doing anything with the child because he never knew he would have one. 
  • Who makes the bottles: Honestly, Klaus and Caroline would. Klaus would also buy a little mini fridge to go in the baby’s room to use to place the bottles in. 
  • Who stays up late at night to rock the kid(s) to sleep and sing them lullabys: Caroline would, but when Klaus would stay up late, he wouldn’t do no lullabies. Oh no, he would tell the child a story about the Hybrid King who would do everything he can to keep his child safe. 
  • Who is guilty of spoiling the kid(s): Caroline would step her food down on about things while Klaus will just spoil them with a devilish grin on his face. 
  • Who would give the kid(s) cookies in the middle of the night: Klaus would share the cookie with the kid while saying, ‘We will deal with Mommy together.’
  • Who always takes the kid(s) side: Klaus while saying, ‘Our child just wants to have fun, doll.’
  • Who would wake up early to make breakfast for the kid(s) before school: I can honestly see Caroline cooking breakfast in the morning for the children.
  • Who gets the kid(s) ready for school in the morning: Caroline would and would feel guilty because their child would crawl in the bed with their daddy. 
  • Who takes the kid(s) to school: Klaus would with Marcel by his side. Marcel is his step child, remember? 
  • Who goes to parent teacher conferences: Klaus dreads them and tries to beg Caroline into just having one of Klaus’s hybrids to go for them. 
  • Who will be the first to suggest to have ‘the talk’ with the kid(s): Klaus would straight up tell them with no filter while Caroline shakes her head in the background. 
  • Who would choose their child(s) prom outfit: Caroline would help their child out, but Klaus will tell them to not worry about the price tag. 
  • Who would cry when the kid(s) go off to college: Caroline honestly would while Klaus stands their proudly. Now he would tear up if the child went into college for arts. 
Dear Person.

I wish I could say dealing with you is easy, but it’s not. It doesn’t matter what I do or what I say, I will NEVER be accepted by you. I have never in my life been put down so much & felt so low by someone else’s actions that it brought me to tears. I just wish I could understand why you don’t like me or why you are out to get me. You’re the sweetest person until the bottle hits your mouth. You transform into this ugly nasty human who stores such hate in their heart. It’s saddening. Why are you always so angry? Why do you choose me to take all your anger out on and lash at me? I feel like I have to walk on egg shells around you. Scared to post on facebook because of the fear of what you’ll say next. You don’t understand the harm and damages of your words. You’re going to one day burn bridges you can’t rebuild. You’re going to lose the people closest to you. You’ll be alone. Just you and your hate. I honestly wish the best for you. I hope that one day we can rebuild our relationship and you’ll find it in your heart to stop hating every ounce of my being. Put the bottle down and get help.

❪ verse iii : the living weapon. ❫

you were made to be used. from birth steady streams of toxins were forced into your veins. over time you stopped getting sick; you adapted. your body became poisonous; you blood burned, your tears singed, and even your breath brought others to their knees. you are not a woman, you are not a daughter, you are not a person. 

you are the poisoner, and you feast on death.


in this verse the core never blew and scrap’s mom was free to continue her experiments on her daughter. this, in turn, made scrap (technically her birth name is maxie) a living bio-hazard and weapon. everything about her is toxic; from her blood to her breath. she’s an assassin known as Poisoner who’s often sold out by her mother to the highest bidder. her base of operations is still in australia, but after her mother’s testing was complete they moved to the city. her alignment is neutral evil and she has no qualms about killing innocents if they get in her way. given that her breath is pretty much toxic gas, she has thin, vein like neon tubes that run up her jaw and are connected to her cheek bones with the other end being connected to her brain. these tubes are actually advanced technology that allow her to control the amount of toxins in her breath. she has these glowing neon tubes through out her body, in order to control other poisonous parts of her as well. she can also used these tubes to dispense her blood.

fc for this verse is sanami ota from the comic The Woods; irl fc is the same.

I woke up feeling really depressed this morning. It’s not that I had a bad dream, I actually had a really good dream, but the fact that I’ll probably never experience the kind of love, understanding, and acceptance I did in that dream almost brought me to tears.

anonymous asked:

boo pls don't compare your problems to other people's problems, it's really not good for u bc you're downplaying your own problems!!! there's always ppl who suffer a lot more than you do, that doesn't mean you're not allowed to suffer yourself, i hope you get what I'm saying!! ily you and stay safe!!!

oh my god this is so sweet!!!you really brought tears to my eyes and whoever you are i hope you have a lovely day (you deserve it)!! ily 2 :’)

redamancii  asked:

Can... Can I draw cliff in a sweater with friends also wearing sweaters... Cause I was brought to tears bc of that drawing... Your sweater is beautiful sweetie;;;;;

YES!!! of course omg, the sweater boy is not Cliff though, just a random character! :000

2

I’ve had today off so I’ve been out shopping :p. I’ve just got to my GF’s to stay the night and I don’t have any boy clothes with me O_O. I feel like this is a big deal but it feels awesome, I feel freaking GOOD! Hopefully I brought all the makeup I need or there will be tears tomorrow morning.

Beyoncé - All Night

‘Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half lemon. Pour the water from one jug, then into the another several times. Strain through a clean napkin. Grandmother. The alchemist. You spun gold out of this hard life. Conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kitchen. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You past these instructions down to your daughter, who then passed them down to her daughter.
My grandma said, nothing real can be threatened.
True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturer became my remedy. So we’re gonna heal, we’re gonna start again.
You’ve brought the orchestra, synchronised swimmers. You are the magician. Pull me back together again the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk. Knot after knot after knot.
The audience applauds but we can’t hear them.’

Down Day || Open

Ben made his way out of his therapy session. He brought a hand up to wipe the tears from his face. It had been another hard session, but the therapist said he was making progress and called in a script for some medication to try out. Ben hated the idea that he was going to be on medication. He saw the way he could effect someone negatively and just prayed it would be a positive the first time and he wouldn’t have to try a bunch of different things to start feeling better. Ben had to keep telling himself that he had friends and that they weren’t just feeling sorry for him and pretending. But it was hard most days to actually believe that. It was hard for Ben to be positive about things when it seemed like no one cared about him at all. No one except Blaine of course. Ben knew Blaine was the only person who truely cared about him without second guessing it at all. He knew Blaine was the one person he could count on no matter what was going on or how he was feeling to always be there. Everyone else seemed to just pop in and out whenever Ben initiated the conversation. To him, if he didn’t start the conversation, there wasn’t a conversation at all. And that really sucked for him. He felt like he was alone in the world most days and talking about it with his therapist just made him feel worse about himself than better since he actually had to bring it up and not just push it aside like he usually did.

Make his way down the street, Ben kept his head down for the most part. He didn’t need the world seeing him look so miserable right now. He headed inside the pharmacy only to be told that his presciption wasn’t ready yet and it would be another twenty minutes. Ben nodded and sighed before making his way back outside to the cold New York air. Making his way to a nearby bench, Ben took a seat and pulled his phone out to play some sort of game, hoping to take his mind off everything while he waited.

hooksandbombs  asked:

Trix receives a smallish gift box, a tag on the packages reading "Open me!" with a familiar looking smiley face on it. Upon opening the box, she would find a mechanical cat with a top hat 'floating' above it's head by a few thin wires.

Give my muse a christmas present~!

Trix gasped as she opened the pulling out the cat. Her heart instantly melted staring at the small creation. She’d never had someone make her a present before. Seeing the gift nearly brought her to tears as she hugged it close. 

Oh god guys….

Sleepy Brock Rumlow!

I’m so soft right now, the idea brought tears to my eyes.

Like, probably, he sleeps like a starfish or something. Just anything that takes up so much space on the bed because he like it all for his own. 

But then, in the morning. He’d just be the softest you’ll ever get to see him. Like, listen: if you are fictional and get in Brock Rumlow’s bed - I need a victory picture as a proof of how Brock Rumlow curls up in the morning, wrapping himself in the covers and hugging his pillow while making grumpy morning sounds with his face buried in the pillow. Oh, and…the bed hair? He probably hates it because adorable is not what he wants to be. That’s Brock’s routine of first doing his hair, then taking a piss explained.

Part of me just believes that Brock Rumlow is the softest marshmallow around in the morning….until he realizes he’s lacking coffee… 

(TN: extra kudos for fleece blankets)

anonymous asked:

idk how to say this but... thank you?? for being yourself? I found your account during a low time in my life, and just seeing you be yourself, in happy times and not so great ones, helped me a lot. idk why. you are lovely, amazing, and a great person. thank you.

sometimes im suicidal and then i realize there r people like u who would probably b really sad if i died and i dont wanna make very sweet people sad at all anyways i love u so much and i wish u very good things this brought me to tears bc #im pussy! but i really hope you end this year in a good way im cheering u on

Pearl Harbor 75th Anniversary: A perspective from a "millennial"

75 years ago today Pearl Harbor happened. It’s been on my mind all day, although I’m just now putting pen to page. The shock of that morning has always brought me to tears, though I wasn’t even born for another 41 years. I try to place myself into the shoes of people on that day, and I find myself shaken.

In a world already wrought with unrest, and America caught between two warring fronts of terrifying proportion and building terror. To be someone who was all too familiar with the horrors of war; after all just 23 years before the horrors of World War I had concluded, and many people were still scarred and maimed, spiritually, mentally, and physically, from that experience. Now the same power was raising its head in the East (and being terrifyingly successful); to the West, the atrocities and whispers of acts like the Rape of Nanking were creeping in. The Germans and the Japanese were knocking, and we were hoping to find a clear path without being frayed by warfare again so soon. The country was only just over 150 years old, and there had already been so much exhaustion.

Just crawling from beneath the wreckage of the dust bowl and the great depression, and now the storms on every horizon. Can you imagine the oppression on the hearts of the average American at that time? No wonder Americana was such a large cultural force: cling to each other, cling to our history, and think about baseball, movies, and dancing as much as possible. It was a terrifying time. And that was what it would have felt like on December 6, 1941.

Now picture the morning of December 7. A shocking attack out of nowhere (to most citizens, though the signs were there for leadership in retrospect, but the pieces put together too slowly to prevent the attack). That morning it must have felt like a lightning bolt that struck right in the stomach….but you knew the bolt would come sometime. Maybe there was a feeling of sick inevitability, in a world so topsy-turvy and so recently cruel. We knew we’d get pulled in, but not like this, not NOW. A shock attack, cowardly and early in the morning on a Sunday, perfectly calculated to maximize the carnage of those simply trying to rest. Right before Christmas, on a beautiful Sunday morning, before church. 

2,403 military men were killed that morning; many of them drowned in the hulls of the ships they slept on, in a force at peace. Men like people we know now, who surround us every day. People who had children, who wanted children. There must have been someone who died that loved reading too much, and his brothers teased him for having his nose in a book all the time. There must have been someone who died that took care of every stray animal who came his way. Another who wrote home to his little brothers and sisters every week, and sent them his pay, to help, since the farm still hadn’t recovered. There must have been someone who hated to talk, but had a sweet smile if you caught it. They loved, they laughed, they hoped, and they dreamed. They knew they were in a world at war, and they would be pulled into it…but they didn’t even get the chance. The horror of that morning resonates today just as strongly as it did then, because our clothes and styles change, but humans don’t. They were the same as us. 

And thus they were pulled into the war, and our country was pulled into the war, and our world was never the same. And we learned once again through tribulation who we were and what mattered, and did what we needed to do to make it as right as we could. The sleeping dragon was awoken, and didn’t sleep again until after Jimmy Doolittle had his raid, and bombs were dropped, and millions of lives were irrevocably changed. But things were still better than they would have been if we had turned our cheek the other way.

So now, it is 75 years later. And to many it feels as though it’s ancient history, and eventually it will be. But to me it feels like it could have happened yesterday, and every year I cry on this day in remembrance of those who were lost, and thank them for their sacrifice. Because the world is still made up of people, just as it was then, and that shock feels just as real now as it did to people then. We try to do the best we can, but sometimes someone decides they need to try to take it. And then we have to fight.

Today…gods today was a bastard of one. The men continue to act like they run the place and give me lip every chance they get. The manifests for three of the ships were a disaster and needed a complete audit. Lunch was a loss as mold had taken the fish I got at the market yesterday and this bloody cramp has killed my legs.

But…I had a moment where I was alone near the Aftcastle…looking over the waters and I remembered something I thought I’d forgotten….and it was the dream I had of the child. The small girl that spoke to me in my dreams with Tomas….my beloved how I miss you…but the memory of that child, the girl who never was…she brought a tear to my eye. Not because of what I lost but for the future I am still looking for. For the future I can still find.

And for me…that is the best day…the best memory. From the girl who never was. I will owe her forever…and meet her someday I will. I promise.