let's pretend this is actually true

@pokemon95101 submitted:  What if Wilford Warfstache is Mark’s imaginary friend from when he was little that got corrupted. Hear me out, he looks too nice and whimsical from the outside like he’s made for children yet he kills people? He has a speech impediment like Mark did when he was young, looks exactly like him but with a mustache you know ‘how all men should be’ or whatever. But he also seems to display some sort of femininity. If he’s an imaginary friend that means his power is only limited by his creator’s imagination which is why he never faces the consiquenses of the murders and never dies. That’s why he has so many fucking professions. What happens when your a kid you play pretend. ‘i wanna be a doctor, i wanna be this or that’ Warf can do that cause he’s just playing pretend
and the feminity shit? You’re a kid struggling with your identity you just like what you like and you experiment. Also, he started pretty early in Mark’s YouTube carrier being the oldest ego. This was the time when Mark’s creativity and imagination started really going again as he cranked out new ideas for content. ‘But how did he get curropted?’ you ask. Good question. When you grow up you forget about your imaginary friends. Warf didn’t like the fact that he was getting pushed aside and forgotten. Wilford was Mark’s imaginary friend. That means that Mark was his only friend, his best buddy. If Mark forgets about him then he has no one. So he starts lashing out as he becomes more real. And then Mark remembers him when the channel begins and he comes to life. Mark is delighted at first, (ever the sentimental type) he missed this old guy! But Wilf is different, more volatile, prone to violent outbursts but Mark rolls with the ideas that are coming along and eventually the fully fleshed character of Wilford Warfstache is born. He was one of Mark’s main sources of comfort through the hell that is puberty but people kept saying that he was too old to have an imaginary friend and that he should let Warf go, and eventually, he did. But Warf didn’t like this. I would love this theory to be true just cause of all the sappy ‘Wilford hanging with kid Mark and telling him it’ll be alright and hanging out with him and playing pretend’
Thank you btw! You’re super nice.

edit: (original theory by @monochromemedic! 💚)

I’M ACTUALLY CRYING I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. THANK YOU FOR THIS. 💖

i hate it when ppl are like “oh well mccree only PRETENDS to be stupid so people let their guard down!!” like where the fUCK did he ever pretend to be stupid? i don’t remember him doing anything stupid ever? the whole “mccree is stupid” thing is only bc ppl think his outfit is silly like he never. actually acted stupid. can’t he just be his cowboy self in peace?? i hate that ppl act like any character that doesn’t have a 100% grimdark serious design and demeanor must be hiding their TRUE nature like. stop

Love And Art.

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Pairing: Gaston x reader

Titled: ‘Love and Art’ 

Warnings: light angst, Gaston/Luke Evans feels, FLUFF, etc. 

A/N: This was an idea for a mini series! Which I am really excited for all of you to read!! 

Summary: You have triplet older sisters, or usually known as the Bimbettes, Claudette, Paulette, and Laurette, you have an identical twin sister, Odette. Much to the older girl’s disposition, Gaston loves you. Your sisters will do anything to sabotage your true love by any means necessary. 

Tagging: @norrihiddleskittycap  @captainemwinchester @little-red-83@impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @hobbithorse19@feelmyroarrrr @lefouismylife@redimagines @letowolfie @ciaprincess@speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lani @winchester-writes rexhepierijona


It’s needless to say you never had it easy in life. You were the shadow of your sisters, even your twin sister, who is only older than you by nothing more than a few seconds.  The only person who truly understood you was your father, who tragically passed away a little over a year ago. Unfortunately, your mother was just as bad as your sisters. Which only left you wondering who they could have contracted that from.  

Keep reading

Yoongi imagine; Super Psycho Love: Part One

Originally posted by jiminiemini

Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, yandere?!Yoongi, toxic relationship, smutty~

When one night standing becames something more. When he calls you everyday. When you saw him staring at you everytime you went to the club. You thought he was behaving like a child and he would eventually let go, but it didn’t happen. Why didn’t you stop him when you had the chance? Now you were involved with someone you shouldn’t. For some reason, you didn’t feel like complaining.


Disclaimer: Please, don’t continue if you are a sensitive person to certain topics. I don’t pretend to offend anyone. This is all fictional, and please, don’t let anyone do this to you. If you suspect, you can talk to anyone. Get help. If you want, you can anonymously send me an ask. I repeat, this is all fictional. Keep reading with caution.


Stockholm syndrome is a condition that causes hostages to develop a psychological alliance with their captors as a survival strategy during captivity.” the teacher made a long pause, but didn’t stop staring at the book. “but sometimes, the hostage can actually develop true feelings, not only as an actual strategy.”

You were, as usual, paying attention to the class. It was a part of your lesson, and you were interested in the topic. Everything about this topics was awesome to you; how the brain worked, why some people developed these kind of feelings. What caused it? You questioned everything. You were so submerged in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Jiwoo staring at you. To be honest, you didn’t even notice when she sat next to you.
“Boo!” she scared you, and you jumped on your seat making her laugh her ass off. 
“Were you thinking about shit again?” 
You knew she was right, but you hit her arm playfully anyways. 
Jiwoo was your best friend since you arrived Korea. Since highschool, she introduced to you her group of friends, who warmly welcomed you. After some years you trusted in her more than anyone, and you told her everything that happened to you. Your dates, the boys you were with, who you wanted to fuck, who wanted to fuck you, everything, and so did her. She was like your sister and she never left you alone. 
“Are you going to the club tonight?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. When you opened your mouth to reply, she interrupted you; “of course you’re going. I’ll be there at 9.” and just like that, she left.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to. You always went to the club, every friday night. There was always someone you were interested in, and ever since your boyfriend broke up with you, you just followed the conversation with any person that seemed interested in you, and didn’t flirt back until they did first. It was something common for you. Making out with someone sometimes, dancing with someone you liked and then forgetting about it. You were a mature person, and it wasn’t a sin, right? After all, you didn’t play with the person’s feelings. Since the beggining you told them that it was only one night. You didn’t want feelings involved, you didn’t want anything serious, and everyone agreed, until last friday.

One week ago, you went to the club, as usual. Jiwoo drove you there, and when you entered, she started looking for her boyfriend; like usual. Everything was usual, it wasn’t strange, neither it was the first time. As usual, again, you sat on the couch of the dance club that was in the back, where people sat down to drink calmly, to smoke, to make out and get touchy or simply because, like you, didn’t feel like dancing. 
As soon as you entered the club, you saw your ex with his girl. He looked happy, and the girl was, of course, very pretty. He had his left arm wrapped on her waist and she was smiling, and your self steem dropped to the floor. 
You broke up with him because he made you feel unwanted. He didn’t compliment you, he was so submerged in his own work that he didn’t even see you. He didn’t have sex with you more than once; in your 6 month old relationship, and in all the years of friendship, he touched you only one time he got home drunk. You tried to understand him, until you discovered the reason behind his behavior wasn’t his work, but his sidechick. 
And there he was, happily hugging her. The asshole and the bitch together.
You stared at the couple with wide eyes, tears aiming to spill out, but you watched at Jiwoo happilly. If she noticed how you were feeling, she would have to stay with you and you didn’t want that. She always put you before her boyfriend first, but it wasn’t a big deal. You broke up with him a long time ago, and she didn’t see her boy very often so you just let go.
Sitting there, staring at everyone, arms crossed and a frown, you were trying not to cry or burn his house down. She was pretty, tall, and you were you. You didn’t feel like being with anyone today, not after what you saw.

Yoongi stared at you from the distance. He fell in love at first sight with you, you were gorgeous in his eyes. You always ended up with someone else, and it made his blood boil. He felt angry and he had to leave immediately before punching the guy in the face and scaring the hell out of you, discarding any chance he had with you.
When he saw you sitting there, with a sad face, he had to approach you. Whatever had happened to you, whoever tried to touch you, he had to take action on the matter. He was nervous, though; he loved you from the first time he saw you and he didn’t want to fuck up, he didn’t want to be so crazy for someone that despises him.
He sat next to you, without making any noise. He stared at you from that distance and he felt his heat rising up. Your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, you fashion choices. Everything was perfect about you, but what wasn’t, was that you didn’t notice him. You were thinking so deeply that he had to sigh once, twice very loudly for you to see that he was sitting right next to you.
He stared at the crowd, and you stared at him. You didn’t want to be with anyone, didn’t your face tell him so? You were about to tell him that you weren’t on the mood to fuck or kiss him or whatever he wanted to, until he opened his mouth.
“So you hate clubs too, huh?”
He knew you didn’t. He knew you loved coming here, he heard your contagious laugh and saw your smile everytime you stepped into the dance floor, excepting this one time of course. But what could he say? He didn’t want to look like a weirdo, that he knew he kinda was, and he had to disimulate.
You sighed in relief. Apparently, he wasn’t direct nor he wanted to flirt right away. The anger disappeared a little bit. 
Actually, I don’t. I just saw something horrible, and I’m here because I don’t feel like dancing or drinking…” you were honest. Why would you lie? He was a random stranger, yes, but you were used to make friends or talk with people about some kind of things. You were kind of an open person, and the fact that you saw your ex with the bitch he cheated on you with wasn’t a big deal neither.
Yoongi felt his heartbeats rising, he heard your beautiful voice for the first time. But paying attention to your words, he actually got worried. There was something that was bothering you after all, someone did something to you or you felt bad because or something, so he just asked right away, shamelessly.
“Really? What is it?
You stared at him and laughed nervously, and then stared back at the crowd.
“Ah, it’s not a big deal. I saw my ex with the girl he cheated on me with.“ you made a pause. “She is pretty, so I kinda understand why he did it...” you made another long pause. Yoongi wanted to interrupt you, hold your hands and tell you that you didn’t have to think that way, and at the same time he wanted to kick that guy’s balls for not appreciating someone as gorgeus and so full of life like you; but he saw you were about to talk a little bit more, so he restrained.
My self steem kinda died a bit,” you laughed awkwardly, hidding that it hurt you. “so I just came here.” 
Yoongi wanted to talk, but when he opened his mouth, you interrupted him again. 
What about you? Do you really not like clubs? Or are you as miserable as me?” and once again, you laughed sadly. He loved and hated that laugh so much. He loved how it sounded, but hated the fact that it hid so much pain.
Actually, I like clubs.” he lied. “But this time I just didn’t feel like drinking or dancing or anything, and my friends left me all by myself.” he lied again. He went the the club all by himself. His friends were calm and didn’t go out; he went there because, even though he hated clubs, he went once just to try and he saw you. He didn’t drink that much, he didn’t dance, he didn’t flirt or fuck around. He just entered there and observed you like a creep, hoping one day he could talk to you.
“Ah, I see. So you’re not as miserable as me.” You said and smiled at him. You were happy to see that he didn’t seem like another fuckboy. He was really attractive, his voice was lazily beautiful, his hair was mint green and he looked like those boys from novels who are bad on the outside but are actually very soft on the inside; those boys on the books who were cold but loving. He was so surreal, you had to blink a million times to make sure your mind wasn’t playing a trick on you and made up a fake boy because of your low self-steem.
Don’t worry, you’re not miserable.” he added before you could continue hurting him without knowing. “It’s normal, it had happened to me,” he lied. His ex never cheated on him, he hadn’t had a girlfriend in six years. “but you have to forget about it. You seem very nice, so you shouldn’t worry. She is going to cheat on him anyways.” 
You laughed and Yoongi felt like his world was illuminated once again. He was nervous, mostly because he had to look for the right words to not scare you. If he flirted with you, or complimented your appearance, you would take it and flirt back, and then you’d hook up, and then you would forget about him like you did with every guy. He didn’t want that. He wanted to know you, to be with you, he didn’t want you to be with anyone else. He wanted you to himself, and the only way was acting like a friend, not like a fuckboy or a flirty random stranger who wanted to bang.
But when you stared at him once again with flirty eyes, he dropped everything. He stared back at you, right into your eyes; he couldn’t resist. He knew it was wrong. He knew he didn’t have to. He knew the plan was failing, but when it was about you, you drove him insane; and it happened.
After two hours of conversating, of drinking one beer between the two, the atmosphere changed completely. He was a nice guy, interesting. He told you about him; Min Yoongi. a 24 years old who liked to compose and was born in Daegu. He moved to Seoul to follow his dreams six years ago. 
Slowly, you became much more touchy. When you laughed, you placed your hand on his thigh, and he didn’t stop you. Slowly you forgot about your ex and just invited him to the dance floor, and he agreed. He didn’t like dancing, but how could he reject you? Even if you hit him, kicked him, stab him, he would still be crazy for you.
What started like an innocent dance became so much more. Yoongi forgot about the plan completely, his hands now running through your body, cupping your cheeks, slowly leaning down to kiss your lips. His lips were soft, the kiss was gentle. When realization hit him, he couldn’t stop. Not when you were already in his apartment, moaning his name, not when he was enjoying so much being inside you, touching your body, kissing your lips, hearing that the sounds that your mouth were making were because of him, because of what he was doing. Not when you were his already; at least for one night.
He slowly took off your clothes, he was the most gentle person you’ve met. Since your ex broke up with you, you didn’t sleep with anyone. You only kissed one boy per night, sometimes they got touchy, but this guy was so smooth. He didn’t have to compliment you or your appearance until things got heated up, and still, he had you on his feet. 
His dirty talk was the best. You couldn’t resist it. He was the best experience you’ve had and he was so gentle, yet so passionate at the same time. He touched you and made love to you like if he was afraid of hurting you, breaking you. Like if you were precious to him. How his fingers grazed gently your skin, your lips, how good he kissed you.
Everything was magical. You had one, two, three orgasms in one night, and you saw he enjoyed it a lot too. You cuddled, his arms hugged you tightly and he hid his face on your neck. 
But when he woke up, you were gone.
Oh god, he wanted to hit himself. He wanted to turn back time and at least ask for your address, now he had to wait until next friday. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if it really was just one night and now you forgot about him? He tried to resist, but since he had your number, he couldn’t avoid the temptation. It was wrong, you were going to hate him, but he couldn’t be rational anymore.

When he called the first time, you both talked for half an hour. When he called the second time, he asked how you were doing. When he called for the third time, you started to get scared. He didn’t get the message? You enjoyed it, but you didn’t want to develop feelings for someone that probably slept around with everyone. Yoongi wasn’t like that; but you didn’t know. You started suspecting that he didn’t call to fuck again, but simply to talk to you. It hurt you, rejecting him like that, because he was interesting. But you knew about that; you fucked him two hours after you met him, he probably did that with every girl. You didn’t want to remind yourself about the past. You wanted a normal relationship, where your partner doesn’t cheat on you. After all, you saw him every friday. You didn’t pay attention to him, but what was he doing there if he wasn’t fucking around? Of course he was. He was a man. He slept with you, he could sleep with anyone else. He probably was just a flirt.
Oh, but were you wrong.

You started declining every call, not daring to block his number. It drove Yoongi crazy, he missed you so much, and he fucked up. Now he was regretting his life choices. If he didn’t call you more than four times, maybe he still would have a chance: but he didn’t stop. He wanted to hear your voice. He went to the club every night, hoping to see you there, to talk to you, even if he knew you had to attend college. He knew. But he didn’t care. 
He started to get obsessive over it. You were clouding his mind day and night, and all he thought about was you. He didn’t recognize that feeling; he wasn’t like that with anyone, specially girls. Not since it broke his heart leaving his ex girlfriend behind to chase his dream; and ironically, the work he was doing, his “dream” was interrupted by the thought of you. 

That’s why you didn’t know. That’s why you weren’t sure of it, what it you saw him there? After he did love to you, after you enjoyed it so much, after all his calls, you couldn’t just stare at him like if nothing happened. But you couldn’t tell Jiwoo, she was such a mom. Her boyfriend wouldn’t want to switch clubs, after all, he worked there. Your friends were there too, they would have to switch just because you were scared of a fuckfriend you had for once? It was ridiculous. After being scared for a whole afternoon, you decided to get ready and go there anyways. If you saw him, you were to flirt with some random boy for some minutes until he got the message and drop it.
But, once again, you were wrong.





I didnt develop any kind of personality

Every trait is a trait I’ve chosen based on trial and error on how I think people want me to act

I don’t even think any opinions I have are actually mine because they change so often

I chose my own personality every single day, and I can tell because everything I say and do is forced and has an undertone of fakeness to it

Most days Im too tired to pick a personality and i just say whatever comes to mind which makes me seem all uneven and morphed

It makes me seem all over the place and that i have no specific opinions or thoughts

Which is true

And some days i just let myself go blank because pretending to be a certain way is tirding

3

For: Anon

Imagine: Getting caught in the rain with Dallas Winston.

“Dally, you two should go, you really don’t need to walk me home,” You tell one of your closest friends, Dallas Winston.  You were at Buck’s place for a party, Dally was walking Sylvia home, and he was insisting on taking you with him since your house was on the way to hers.

“Ya wanna get jumped again Y/N?” Dally has always been so damn blunt, and to be completely honest you were a little afraid, not that you’d ever admit it.

“Dallas, let’s go!” Sylvia says rolling her eyes, this bitch was Dally’s stuck up girlfriend and she hated you. She was constantly two-timing Dally, yet she couldn’t stand the fact that Dallas’ best friend was a girl.

“Alright Sylvia, Y/N will be coming along,” Dally responds, dragging you with him.

“Ugh, fine,” Sylvia says in pure disgust. You join the couple and the three of you head out. You instantly regret it as Sylvia practically throws herself on to Dally. Fuck this, just get me home already.

*Boom* You screech and jump at the sound of the booming thunder as Sylvia grips onto Dally, he chuckles slightly and rolls his eyes.

“Looks like it’s gonna rain, we should take a short-cut through the park,” Dally calls before making his way towards the grass.

You take off your heels and run after him, and Sylvia tiptoes through the grass trying to avoid getting her dress and shoes dirty. Suddenly you hear Dally cry out, “Fuck!”

You look around and see Dally lying on the ground in the mud, you burst into laughter, “What happened?”

“I slipped,” He says, forcing himself to look annoyed.

“Here,” You say giving him your hand, “Let me help you up Dal.”

Dally takes your hand and you pull him up half way before pushing him back into the mud, causing it to go splashing everywhere, he curses and you continue laughing, at this point you can’t tell if there’s tears streaming down your face or if its rain, “What the fuck Y/N?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Dal, here, give me your hand, I actually help you up this time,” He looks at you reluctantly, and tries to get up himself, but he slips again in the process, “I promise I won’t let go this time Dally, trust me.”

“Will you hurry the fuck up?!” Sylvia says, getting annoyed.

“Alright doll, I’ll trust ya,” Dally takes your hand, and just as you’re about to pull him up, he pulls you down instead, you cry out as you fall on top of him. He takes advantage of your shock, and rolls you over so that you’re in the mud and he’s on top of you, “But you shouldn’t trust me.”

“DALLY!” You squeal as the mud surrounds you. You reach to the side and grab a handful of it, quickly splashing it up into Dallas’ face.

“You little bitch,” He growls playfully, before smearing some on you.

“You think you’re real strong huh Dal?”

“I know I am doll,” He smirks as you struggle under his grasp.

“Asshole,” You say as Dally leans in, before you know what’s happening, Dally’s lips are a meer inch away from yours. It’s finally happening, I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. Your happiness is short lived as Sylvia coughs; you’d forgotten about her.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but this is disgusting and I’m leaving Dallas, if you want to you can join me,” She says, before tiptoeing away.

Dallas grunts and pushes himself off you before helping you up, “Let’s go Y/N.”

“Dal, go after Sylvia she’s your girl, besides my house is close by, I’ll get there,” You say, looking down. You’ve liked Dally for years, you’re one of the few people who, unlike his girlfriend, can actually see the good in him, he’s not just a sex tool for you, but of course, you’ve never had to guts to tell him.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna drop you off first, she always does this,” He says rolling his eyes.

The two of you continue to walk in silence, the only sound that can be heard is the sound of your shivering and a few sneezes here and there. You hear a rustling next to you and suddenly Dallas wraps his jacket around you, you look at him and raise an eyebrow, “Look at you being a gentleman.”

“Do you want the fucking jacket or not,” You stick out your tongue and the two of you continue walking, trying to break the silence from time to time. You finally get home only to realize that you are missing your keys, you mentally curse at yourself, and spend the night at your neighbours’ house, the Curtis brothers.

“Alright Y/N, I’m gonna go now, g’night doll,” He leans in once again, before he realizes what he’s doing, he saves himself by just going for an awkward hug. You hold on for just a moment too long, taking in Dally’s scent. He eventually pulls away, and walks off, leaving you in the Curtis’ yard.

You walk in and see the brothers along with Johnny and Two-Bit sitting in the living room, “Mind if I crash here boys?”

They all look at you as if you’re crazy, you look down and realize that you’re soaking wet, covered in mud, and wearing Dally’s jacket, “Oh this? Let’s just say there was a mishap on my way home.”

“Is that Dal’s jacket?” Two-Bit questions.

“Yeah,” You say nonchalantly.

“Dally never gives anyone his jacket,” Johnny says, smiling a little, this kid has always been trying to set the two of you up.

“So?” You say before walking into the bathroom, you shut the door and finally let your smile break out, as you cuddle yourself in Dally’s jacket. Maybe he does care about me!

A/N: *Please read* Finally another post!! K I know the reader asked for a fluffy Dally imagine so I tried to make it as fluffy as possible while staying true to Dally’s character, I obviously didn’t want to make him seem soft or anything. Also DISCLAIMER, I never really liked Sylvia’s character so I made her sound like a little bitch, but if you guys actually liked her, don’t hate, just change up her name for the sake of this imagine and pretend it’s about a different girl. ILSYM and I hope you liked it!

Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

A Hufflepuff/Slytherin Relationship Would Include...

Other Pairings

* * *

  • The hufflepuff having to constantly remind the Slytherin that “violence and hate don’t solve anything.”
  • The Slytherin having to constantly remind the Hufflepuff that to “let out your true emotions instead of pretending to be happy all the time”
  • The Hufflepuff taking the cutest selfies with the Slytherin photo-bombing in the background
  • The Slytherin dragging the Hufflepuff out late at nights and the Hufflepuff not even worrying about getting caught
  • The Hufflepuff going to the kitchens to make the Slytherin their fav food when they’re sad 
  • the cutest hogsmeade dates
  • The slytherin giving the hufflepuff their scarf when its cold, claiming that they’re used to being cold 
  • The Slytherin actually not being used to the cold but they just like to see their puff in the slytherin scarf
  • The hufflepuff defending Slytherin as if it were their own house
  • The Slytherin doing the same for Hufflepuff
  • The slytherin constantly groaning because of the hufflepuff’s puns
  • The Slytherin secretly loving it
  • The Hufflepuff dying every time the Slytherin says something dry and sarcastic 
  • karaoke nights
  • BOARD GAMES
  • The two being able to sit next to each other reading without feeling like anything needs to be said
  • The Slytherin making weird drink/food concoctions and the hufflepuff drinking/eating it without hesitation
  • The hufflepuff giving amazing sentimental gifs
  • The Slytherin, not being so good at gift giving, gives the hufflepuff long-life memories that they’ll never forget
  • The cutest yet most intimidating couple 

anonymous asked:

2 YEARS LATER ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!! I'm so sick of stupid explanations which make no sense at all I'm so sick of just moving on without really dealing with things and exploring the characters... I WILL FUCKING HATE CC IF HE RUINS S11 LIKE HE RUINED S10!!!

Okay, this might be an unpopular opinion, but if what The Sun say is true, I actually like the idea. I mean, I didn’t want Mulder dying on that bridge, that last episode was a total bullshit from the first second, I don’t want to hear about stem cells again, and please! A SPACE SHIP ABOVE WASHINGTON?

If I was CC, I wouldn’t hesitate for one second to play it off as if nothing happened, erase the mythology of season 10 and start from scratch again. Let’s all pretend My Struggle and My Struggle 2 were his drafts and let’s come up with something better.

It’s only 10 episodes, and he would have ruined at least 2 to close this virus story with too much of agent Miller and Mulder coughing blood. 

Also, can you imagine what could have happened msr wise in 2 years? 

I hope The Sun is right.

anonymous asked:

idk why the hell ppl asks you to write sad stuff about the guys. like, what happened to them wasn't sad enough to you goddamn masochists?? I just want to read happy stuff, it tears me apart to read things were Dyl cry. btw, I love your blog, I love your blurbs, I love ur writing <33 could you write a blurb talking about little things dylan would do to his shorter girlfriend? idk if you got my point but its ok lol bye thanks <3

hi bby!! I think the main thing is that when people are hurting they wanna be able to relate to someone else! and a lot of people in the tcc find comfort in Eric and Dylan and see themselves in them, so having them written into the same situation offers a feeling of… not alone-ness? ya know what I mean? it hurts to think about them suffering, yes, but a lot of people sometimes feel isolated with their mental issues and it’s just comforting to think that the boys would understand it.

that’s not to say you’re wrong or anything for wanting only happy stuff! because there’s also the viewpoint of they were sad, we’re sad, everyone has been sad enough already so why not write them into happy situations and forget about the bad stuff for a while? both sides make sense and neither one is “wrong” or “right”, I think they’re just different ways to cope!

anyways, onto the blurb!!

• he’d act like kind of a dick sometimes and not lean down when you wanted a kiss n make u struggle to reach him

• resting his arm on top of ur head while talking to friends

• pointing at two things side by side that are drastically different sizes and saying “hey look it’s us” ((like big trees and saplings, a large bird beside a small one, pics of animals with their babies, little cars parked beside big trucks, etc))

• pretending like he can’t hear you from “way down there”

• sometimes actually not being able to hear you

• piggy!! back!! rides!!!

• calling u things like “shortstack” or “shrimp” (in a joking manner ofc)

• holding you from behind and resting his chin on your head

• letting u wear his shirts and they’re so big they fit u like a dress

• holding things above ur head and making u give him a kiss before giving them back

they’re pretending to be in a national geographic special

Help (Pass it forward coping)

Help
Please help
I hate these crying yelps
I hate feeling alone
I hate feeling desperate
I hate my own bones
I hate my depression
I hate this recession

The way it won’t go away
Can’t control the tears
So I simply only lay
And think of all the fears

Help yourself
You idiot
Get out of bed
You need fed
Or you’ll end up dead
Perhaps that’s what you wish
Expect you don’t

You want to do homework
You want to go to the gym
You want to cook and clean
You want to make art
You want to be alright

But it’s a fight
the punch hits you right
You don’t punch or kick
You don’t have the might
Despite all the training you’ve done at night

Seems you forget it all
Once you get in the ring
Feeling overwhelming feelings
That are always lingering
Always forcefully fingering
Their way in to never ending ringing

This was a very low point for me where I felt put of control with my depression and like I couldn’t do anything but right now I look back at this poem I wrote and find strength from my vulnerability at this point. I know it might happen again but if I can overcome it once then I know there is hope to overcome it in the future. If there is anything I have learned from being depressed is that exposing your weakest moments is actually the point at which you gain true strength because anyone can pretend to be okay and get through but to truly show that you aren’t okay is something completley different because you make yourself vulnerable. And for me that was my biggest struggle as letting others in and letting them help me was very scary as I felt like they would see me as weak. So to anyone out there who thinks they are sparring others pain by holding everything in I am going to tell you that you are only hurting yourself more by not reaching out because those people who you fear you may hurt are the ones you should rely on for support and I bet once you reach out to them they will support you 100%.

Harry doesn’t really hate a lot of things. In fact, he rather thinks that the word ‘hate’ on its own is too strong of a word to say to someone, anyone. But one thing he does hate, is leaving her. Because leaving her means lonely nights he’s got to spend in a hotel room staring up at the ceiling. Leaving her means going months on end with out her touch, her smell, her lips. Leaving her is leaving his best friend.

So to no surprise, Harry’s at a bar a few blocks down from the hotel, hoping the second drink will settle the emptiness he feels in his tummy. Doesn’t really help because when Harry drinks, he gets very touchy, whether it be holding a hand or having his arm around someone. And not having Y/N’s waist to rest his hand on is really making this all the more difficult. All he can do at the moment is run his fingers through his hair, his rings cold at his scalp.

He doesn’t really know why he gets likes this. Well actually, that’s not true, he does, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Harry’s always had a bit of bad luck with relationships. Especially when it’s hard to tell whether whatever girl he’s dating is dating him because he’s Harry, or because he’s Harry Styles. It’s already hard enough making friends because of it, let alone having a genuine relationship.

Least to say, Harry really likes Y/N. He likes that she listens to him. Actually listens, not just pretends and nods her head but rather she asks questions and seems genuinely interested. He likes how she smells of vanilla in the winter and strawberries in the summer. She swears it’s her body washes, but Harry likes to think it’s her natural scent. But more than anything, Harry likes her because he can be himself around her. And because Harry likes her, he can’t bring himself to tell her how he feels and risk losing their friendship.

“Oi, Harry! Brought you out to have fun, not so you can mope around.” Niall’s comment doesn’t really phase him any. He doesn’t think he can have much fun when he’s missing her, or the fact that his head is spinning a bit. Not because of the alcohol, but because for some odd reason, just thinking about Y/N had him faintly inhaling a scent of vanilla.

“Sorry, mate. M'not feeling it.” Even if he wanted to he couldn’t get into it because it’s 11 p.m and Y/N has yet to answer his text. And yeah, he knows it’s sort of late and she’s probably asleep, but he thought maybe, just maybe she would be awake and she would answer his text with a call and hearing her voice would make him feel better.

All Niall can do is pat his friend on the back and leave him be, because when Harry gets like this only Y/N can cheer him up.

One last look at his phone, at her contact picture, has him slamming his pint down, waving bye to the guys and heading out where the cold air hits him.

He doesn’t need to think about it twice as he reaches his car and drives off, doing his best to keep his speed at city limit. The only thing good about being in this city tonight is being a few away from Y/N. So yeah, he doesn’t think about it twice because he’ll be heading out to a different state tomorrow and he won’t be able to do this then.

His hands grip the steering wheel as he gets closer, but none the less he feels himself getting more relaxed. When the building comes into view and the clock reads 12:03 a.m, his heart feels relieved.

Each step up to her floor seems lighter, his boots hitting the concrete at a fast pace and he can’t believe he’s about to do this. Surprisingly, there is no doubt in his mind about it, telling her, finally. Whatever happens right? He’ll put it out there, hope for the best, and the rest is up to her. Harry’s just really wishing all goes well, because he doesn’t think he can handle rejection from her, anyone but her.

Maybe telling her will lessen his heartache of missing her every time he leaves because at least then she’ll know he’s thinking of her always. With one look at the door, he reaches his hand out in a fist to knock on it.

It’s not long till the door is being opened, his lips pulling up to a smile.

“Hi,” her voice small, tired, knuckles at her eyes.

He breathes out before taking a step in and engulfing her in his arms.

“Hi,” he exhales into her hair.


(Part Two)

star-struck-and-waiting  asked:

45, Modern Alex/Eliza

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He reaches blindly for his phone when it rings.

“Hi,” comes Eliza’s voice on the other end.  He looks at the time: 3:00 a.m.

“Are you okay?  Kids okay?” he asks, his voice low.

It’s like he can feel her nodding.  “Yeah.  They’re fine.  I just…I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

He smiles for a moment.  “So you decided I should be woken up?”

“Sorry. I just had a bad feeling about something and a weird nightmare and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”  She pauses for a moment.  “I worry about you home alone.”

“I’m fine, Eliza.  Working a lot.  Keeping busy.  You know.”

Her voice takes on a faux-lightness and it nearly cracks when she starts to talk again, but she keeps pushing through it.  “I know.  I was thinking, though, that I leave the kids up here and come home early?”

He closes his eyes.  “Eliza, your dad really needs you right now.  No one cheers him up like you do.”

Her dad’s depression since losing his senate seat worried everyone.  He’d been looking forward to an extended visit with Eliza and the kids since the moment Aaron Burr took his oath of office and Eliza promised him the month of August with the grandkids at the beach house.

It had been two weeks, with one more to go.  

And he…he misses her.  He does in ways he can’t explain.  And he misses his noisy children.  Everyone feels very far away.  Eliza hasn’t sent enough pictures.     

“I think it’s the kids more than me, actually,” she insists.

“That’s not true, babe.”

He can feel her nod again.  “Sorry, I’m being ridiculous.”  She takes a deep breath and he knows she’s forcing a smile onto her face right now. And he should stay awake and talk to her more, try to make her feel better, but he’s going to pretend along with her right now that everything is fine.  “I miss you.  I hate being apart.  But, uh, you have work tomorrow.  I’ll let you go.”

“I miss you too.”

“Okay.  Get some sleep.  I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He turns onto his side in his bed and watches Maria breathe in and out, her head on his wife’s pillow.  Her back is to him. 

He doesn’t reach for her.

sonictoaster replied to your post “Star Trek: DS9 Notes - S5, Vol. 3”

THEY’RE EACH OTHER’S FAVORITE TROPE

sherlocks-freebitch replied to your post “Star Trek: DS9 Notes - S5, Vol. 3”

SUCH an awesome two parter. And yeah, a hell of a lot to unpack in that death scene.

And unpack it I now WILL! I made it through those episodes alive so now I get to go back, ahaha, that’s how that works, apparently.

And this is gonna be related to Julian & Garak being each other’s favorite trope, because all of it is. Because: the way they express intimacy with each other is nearly always through performance. Oh it goes so deep, and we will follow it.

1. Pretense

I’ve had “the thing about pretense” jingling in my Loose thoughts doc for a while, so first let’s finally do that. The Thing is, Garak and Bashir are pretty unique on Deep Space 9 in how much they appreciate and even respect a good pretense. And we’re talking maybe all the definitions here, the social masking and the imaginary inventions and the affectations, too.

They’re both showy sorts of people on their own, prone to really delivering the full length of their sentences and playfully feigning things. So its no wonder then that as soon as they met they were dancing around “my dear Doctor” and “my dear Mr. Garak”-ing each other, having a grand old time and confusing the hell out of most everyone around them. Because they’re both the type, it turns out, who doesn’t need to trust a person to enjoy them — an outlook entirely foreign to someone like Kira Nerys, or Benjamin Sisko to a good extent. Or Miles O'Brien, which is probably part of why his relationship with Julian didn’t take off until later, after Miles began to realize that this fancy idiot Enacting Friendliness with suspicious cards like Garak, wasn’t himself an untrustworthy person.

But Julian and Garak immediately recognized that they had a shared language of Pretense, and so were able to just step directly into playing some coy elaborate mashup game of Two Truth Or Dares And A Lie. The game was the relationship – and as it would turn out, it would also be the trust.

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Whump & Why We Like It

In a nutshell, there is no single explanation why some people like certain things and others don’t. For most things, it’s not a big deal. People don’t really spend too much time wondering why they like classic cars or techno music; they just do, and that’s good enough for most people. But as soon as the interest seems “weird” or is intrinsically connected to our romantic/sexual selves… Well, all of a sudden, it becomes important to us to know why things appeal to us.

Before I get started on this post, I want to repeat again: There is no one reason why an individual might like whump. I’m not aiming to answer that question for anyone. My goal here is to share some theories I’ve heard from others and some I’ve thought of myself - in the hopes that it might give you some ideas to work with in order to find your own answers. Because ultimately, that’s all any of us can do: take a good look at ourselves, ask ourselves the tough questions… and above all, accept ourselves unconditionally.

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frazzled sheets, fragile hearts

a bbrae one shot
read on ff.net here
slightly nsfw


His fingers trace slowly over the small of her back, connecting hundreds of invisible stars together and burning constellations onto her pale skin.

She glances up at him, and he can see stardust woven into the violets of her eyes, galaxies forming behind the darkness of her pupils.

(He swears there’s an entire universe hidden inside of her, waiting for someone to explore its icy depths;
He likes to pretend it’s meant to be him, only him.)

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{fic} A Green and Growing Thing (part 1)

Word Count: 2.1k
Characters: Lucien, Feyre, Rhysand, Tamlin, Mor
Warnings: None

The first chapter of my Big Elucien Fic. Found here on AO3!

It is not passionate and sweeping and fraught, like Feyre’s relationship with Rhysand, nor is it the heightened antagonism of Cassian and Nesta’s war-like courtship, or even Azriel and Mor’s silent, fierce devotion. Elain and Lucien have something different, a green and growing thing between them.

[This is the story of the fox boy and the flower girl, of spring and fall and everything inbetween]

Lucien looks unwell.

Good, Feyre thinks nastily.

That is ungenerous of her, and she knows it, feeling a touch bad for the sentiment. Lucien has been trapped in this hell for much longer than she was, the only buffer between Tamlin’s increasingly abusive behavior and the rest of Prythian, and if he has utterly failed, it is at least party because such was an impossible task for one man. And, she had learned, he’s been walking a razor thin line between rebuffing Ianthe’s very forward advances and not offending Tamlin, who, in his idiocy, has been absently encouraging the match. Lucien has lost something transient and vital in the last three months, some of the fire gone out of him and replaced with a thin desperation in his limbs when he moves.

Still, Feyre remembers that day in the snow every time she meets his sunken, sleep-deprived gaze, remembers his willingness to drag her back here, and she can’t help but smile viciously at him behind Tamlin’s back.

Such as now, as Tamlin is called from dinner by a harried sentinel just returned from the border with news to report, kissing Feyre on the cheek and leaving her in a dead silent room with Lucien. His metal eye makes a faint whirring sound as it narrows. he sets down his fork.

“I know what you’re doing, Feyre.”

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3

You Look Good In Blue & Black


Today Jaime has heard a crazy rumour that you are a model for some magazine. Which you can’t be because he is pretty sure he would be the first person you would tell if you were. It makes him uncomfortable hearing other guys drooling over you, saying how hot you are. He knows that you are attractive but doesn’t want to hear other people talking about you. 

It has been bothering him all day, so much so that he couldn’t concentrate whilst on a mission with the team. He really wishes it didn’t have this much of an affect on him. Bart is the first to notice something is up with his friend, zooming right over to his side now that they are done with missions for today. 

“So are you going to tell me what’s up? Or do I have to talk it out of you?” Bart folds his arms and has one eyebrow raised. 

“Nothing, why would you think that there is?” Jaime pretends to be clueless, acting like he normally would. 

“You can’t fool me, buddy. I know you better than anyone. Come on, I’m all ears.” Bart waves his hand back and forth, waiting for Jaime to spit it out. 

Jaime lets out a sigh before speaking. “It’s y/n, I heard a rumour that she is a model and other guys are talking about her.” He tells his friend what is on his mind and why he isn’t himself. 

“Oh yeah, didn’t you know about that? I thought you did.” Bart confirms that it isn’t just some rumour, that it is actually true. Judging by the look on his friend’s face, Bart realises that he didn’t know, making him feel slightly awkward because he did. 

“Wait, you knew about it and didn’t think to tell me?” Jaime’s eyes widen in shock, finding it rather hard to believe that you have kept this a secret from him. It appears he is the last to know about it, even his closest friend knew. 

“Like I said, man, I really thought you knew. Sorry.” Bart shrugs his shoulders, not knowing what else to say. 

“No, I didn’t.” Jaime shakes his head. “I’ve got to go, I’m going to y/n’s tonight.” He then says, not sounding all that enthusiastic about it. 

“You going to talk to her about it?” Bart puts his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m going to ask her why she kept it from me. See you later, hermano.” Jaime pats Bart on the shoulder as he says his goodbyes. 

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Proof My Mom Is A Mom Who Just DGAF
Happy Mother’s Day to the most chill mom I’ve ever met. I hope I’m as cool, laid-back, and true to myself if I ever have kids. 
  • Pretended she was going to throw her toddler in a pool of sharks at an aquarium… but accidentally let go & ACTUALLY dropped her toddler in a pool of sharks.
    • To be fair, I’m pretty sure they were the smaller, more or less harmless sharks (she dropped my oldest sister, so I wasn’t there). My mom thought it was hilarious. The employees were far less amused.
  • Stood up on the dinosaur ride (RIP) at Knott’s Berry Farm, in front of her young children, to touch the brontosaurus.
    • They stopped the ride & came over the loudspeaker to yell at her to stay seated. She pretended she didn’t know what they were talking about. We were mortified.
  • Allowed her very young children to play, sing, & dance on the kitchen counters. Laughed when one tripped & nearly toppled off headfirst.
    • We have video evidence of this. My mom doesn’t even move from behind the camera in alarm, just laughs & continues filming.
  • Ignored safety ropes & multiple signs warning about scalding & stuck her arm in a hot spring at Yellowstone, then mocked her children for being freaked out by this.
    • Since the water was only lukewarm, she didn’t learn her lesson.
  • Laughed when her daughter fell into the river while rafting in Yosemite.
    • My sister was absolutely fine, despite our dad being convinced she was going to drown while our mom callously laughed beside him.
  • Allowed her four-year-old daughter to kiss an Elvis impersonator ON THE LIPS.
    • This is probably more horrifying to me, the four-year-old who kissed a stranger on the lips, than anyone else, but … I’m fine. I’m sure he was a perfectly nice man. I asked my mom recently what she was thinking and she was just like, “It was a simpler time! It was cute! Whatever!”
  • Told her kids (ages 13, 11, & 8) to get out & check how long the line was to get into the Grand Canyon… then when the line moved forward a lot, gunned it & left them to chase after the car, screaming.
    • She was laughing hysterically when we made it back to the car. We were sobbing. This is still one of her favorite memories. (Objectively, I can see how this would be funny from her perspective, although from mine it definitely wasn’t!)