its-kinda-shit

if you have good thoughts about me i encourage you to please tell me because im doing my best but the world has not treated me well

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thanks to @hedaclarks for the beautiful text

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the saddest point in my life that i can remember is probably about a year and a half ago. this was the point in my life that i was really really struggling with my sexuality. i was really struggling with my identity and who i was and it was eating me alive.

One Night Stand

AU where Beca Mitchell is a bad-ass music producer who spends her times getting drunk, hooking up, and avoiding all emotional contact, and where Chloe is just a girl at a bar who makes Beca question everything


One night stands were always tricky.

Keep reading

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Drew some test comic panels for today to try out some old and new styles. I based them off a conflict/tension prompt to keep them short and simple.

Does anyone want me to finish this?



Everyone had them. No one asks why. 


Sometimes you didn’t need to ask why,  like the shaded splotches across Hinata’s back. Why he still is on that dreaded bicycle with such high risk is unknown, but maybe he’s too scared of cars now. 


Sometimes you didn’t want to ask why. The pale, too pale, lines marring Tsukishima’s wrists surface in your mind, before being shoved down again. 

 
Sometimes people kept theirs, time and time again. Usually there was only one, maybe two. And then there was Daichi. Daichi, with a splattering of scars he couldn’t remember getting and wounds he couldn’t see. The marks he hid with the keys to the locker room, first in and last out. 

 
He wonders why he hides, sometimes. All they would do is talk about his “old soul”, and things like that.
He’d never remember, if he kept hiding. Hell, he’d never find them if he kept hiding. 


Though, deep down, he knows he’s afraid. Afraid of remembering. 


Because dozens of marks meant dozens of lives, meant dozens of moments never to be lived, dozens of heartaches and heartbreaks, and the pain of all his lives. What death was like, over, and over, and over.   


So Daichi hid, even if he knew it wasn’t forever. Not all marks are easy to hide and all it would take is the brush of his soul mate’s fingertip on the bare skin to spark off the memories.
 So Daichi hid, wondering if a life without his destined one was more painful that the lives he’d have to remember. 

It couldn’t be that bad, he reflected, tapping his pencil over unfinished homework. He was quite happy with his life, completely soul mate-less. He had his family, his friends, and his team, which he was quite content with. But then again, he was sitting thinking about a soul mate instead of doing the math lying in front of him. 


He blamed Asahi, frankly, what with his talk of the future, moving on, and who knows what else. That kid may look burly or intimidating, or whatever rumor was spreading at the moment (Daichi was pretty sure it moved from hit man to drug dealer at some point), but he acted like a middle school girl.

anonymous asked:

is it just me or whenever you have an innocent friend, and hear them curse, you kinda just sit there in shock? bc that happened today to me at lunch and I was so surprised. (I partially feel like it's my fault cos I curse way too much oops)

i would agree but apparently i’m that friend

Chapter One

a/n:  okay so this is the first chapter of my story ‘I’ve been looking’ feedback would be great and ily all

He’s now been gone 16 days. The police gave up, I’m the only one looking for him now. I have looked in the all the places he could be, but no one has seen him. I know he’s out there somewhere, he has to be, he’s all I have. He’s my brother and only family. 

When I was seven, our parents were killed.  Ashton was fourteen at the time, and ever since that day he has looked after me. Although, he never told me the full story of how they were killed. 

All I know is that my mum came in to my room to check on me when they heard a noise, and the noise was apparently a man that had got in through my window.  When my mum didn’t come back to bed, my dad went to look.  He found her dead on the floor of my room with me still asleep.  The man was stood at the edge of the room, waiting.  When my dad screamed out for Ashton, the man attacked. My dad ran into a different room, leading the other guy away from me and Ashton. By this time, I had woken up. Ashton had picked me up and ran out of the house. Just as we got to the door, I remember hearing my dad shouting after us.

“Look after her Ashy! Please!”

And then, a bloodcurdling scream echoed from my parents’ bedroom. A bang followed it that, what I guessed, was my dad’s lifeless body hitting the floor.

When we were far enough away from the house, Ashton sat me down on a fence.  I remember seeing him talking to me, but I had blanked it all out.  My mind was numb and I didn’t know what to do. The last thing I remember of that day was falling asleep in Ashton’s arms, wishing it was all a dream.

But here I am now, travelling the country with Ashton, never staying in one place for more than a month. Living a life of motels and cheap diner food. Ashton says that its important that we keep moving, it’s his job, but he never tells me anything else.

“We have to move Riley, it’s just the job.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to move schools again.”

“Stop asking questions.”

I get no explanation; I just have to trust him.  I would have thought at eighteen he would have been able to tell me, at least give me a reason, but no.  I’m stuck in the miss matched life, wanting to get away.

I can’t though, Ashton’s my brother.  He’s all I have, I’m all he has. I have to trust him, and I do, it just gets hard sometimes.