me-at-all-times-actually

9

Did you know? If you catch a falling maple leaf, you’ll fall in love with the person you’re walking with.

The lifting fandom really pisses me off.

I am always finding ways to save money. In order to comfortably treat myself, I have to care for myself. Providing food for me and my little family (my best friend and our pets), getting new clothes (people say clothes aren’t important, but they are. You wear them every day), making sure I have gas in my tank, cleaning products, and products to maintain a good hygine.

We have a lot of priorities. Sometimes we may not be able to buy that foundation, or that book, or that lotion. We would NEVER lift it. There are ways to obtain free products without shoplifting, you know.

1. Want that new book? If you cannot find a copy online (inb4 torrenting is illegal, you can get some books free online. I got the monstrosity known as “Stones to Abbigail” for free via amazon), go to your bookstore. Buy some coffee or a snack if you want and read it there. You may not finish it in one day, but tomorrow or next month you can come back and finish it. Just write/save the page #.

2. Want that makeup product? Ask for a sample! They are happy to give you one. Lush and Sephora give me samples all the time. I actually got samples frequently of this hair stuff from Lush until I was able to afford it. 

3. Want to lift that pet? DON’T. So many animals are running wild, waiting to be rescued, or were abandoned. I got my last two cats for free, because they were kittens roaming the streets. You don’t need to go to a pet store and steal a cat/dog and throw it in a bag. Also, if you are willing to lift an animal, then DON’T GET IT. Medical bills, shots, fixing, food, toys, ect are all a part of raising an animal. 

4. Don’t lift food. Just don’t. Instead, take on the hobby of couponing. Watch a few episodes of Extreme Couponers. I’ve seen people get 400 dollars worth of groceries and it comes out to be only 15 bucks. Also, Dollar General is your best friend. I once got a month’s worth of groceries for 22 dollars. 

5. Just because you were not arrested, does not mean you weren’t caught. A business I was working at last year got their tip jar stolen. They couldn’t even access the video footage because the owner had the codes to get in, and he was having a life-threatening surgery. But we knew who did it, we knew the car, we knew everything. People did this often to us, because it was literally just a bucket. The owner wouldn’t get a steal-proof one for some odd reason. We mentally 86′d them though. And why would yo want to be 86′d from a place? You can’t buy from them anymore, especially if its a local business.

God, I fucking hate thse lifters I swear to god.

popstar AU drabble

something i scribbled at work during the water shortage

(rose’s and dirk’s handle abbrvs are the same and i can’t use their colors but it’s pretty obvious in the narrative when the switch happens) 



Strider: Have A Fashion Emergency 

TG: my god this is asinine
TG: youd think with a wardrobe the size of a manhattan apartment and a team of professional stylists and a gazillion labels sending me free shit all the time id actually have something decent to drape over my meat puppet

TT: You’d think.

TG: what do you even wear on a date rose
TG: i dont go on dates im not a date guy

TT: Are you asking what I wear on dates specifically? Because I am not lending you another dress.
TT: You are catastrophically hard on clothes.

TG: you mean that time at the grammys because that was not my fault

Keep reading

6

pick a god and prey

Better pics of the Idol of Space and Time I wore for MAGFest! Work kicked my ass, so the mask and bustier (from DMC4) are put off ‘til Katsucon, but I think I did a good improvisation of the DMC3 one! (Er…minus the titty-slip…)

The real star here, though, is the hourglass! It stands at 52 inches end to end (compared to my 60 inches), and splits into two pieces for ease of transport (I…do not). The sixteen 3-inch resin spikes bolted into the wreath make it around 20 inches wide. Each end is wired with 3+ meters of remote-controlled mini-LEDs for that extra punch. Even with all that, it’s still only around 10 pounds! (The messenger bag I carry with me all the time actually weighs more when it’s loaded.) That’s wonder of pine, posterboard, and fabric! I still might fancy it up even more for the DMC4 look at Katsucon.

Special thanks to @lithefider for the pictures and the gentle photoshoping and @snazzyskeleton for all the help with the last-minute body-painting when I was in too much pain to contort to the right angles!

This is a very late birthday present for @katiethemstie. Happy very, very, very late birthday, sweetie!

This imagine originally had Nine wearing brainy specs, but it didn’t make the cut, and I am actually disappointed by that.

“This feels so weird,” you said.

The Ninth Doctor  pressed his lips to the soft skin of your neck as he pulled you closer to him. “How’s it weird?”

You took a deep breath, reveling in the feeling of Nine’s strong hands on your back. You missed those hands. You didn’t know you had a hand thing until him. (And then there was Ten, and his hand thing was completely different.) “I’m kissing you, and other you is right there.”

“Eh, neither me minds,” Nine said. He tugged you back to sit next to him on the big, cushy chair that had always been and still was the Doctor's favorite cuddling place in the library. You ended up less on the chair and more on his lap, and you were quite sure that he did it on purpose.

“You sure about that?” you asked dryly, tossing a pointed glance at where Ten was sulking with a book that he obviously wasn't actually reading.

Nine took one look at Ten's sullen expression and scoffed. “Yes, I’m sure. Aren’t I, Doctor?”

“Oh, yes,” Ten drawled grumpily, voice muffled as he pulled the book up to his face. “Totally sure, we are. Totally. Not one itty-bit of a problem, no sirree, not at all. Nope. You just enjoy yourselves.”

You huffed out a sound of exasperation against Nine's green jumper. Nine rolled his too-blue eyes.

“He like this all the time?” Nine asked, looking mostly displeased and… almost apologetic. Almost.

“Imagine trying to compete with yourself,” you said, patting Nine on the shoulder.

Nine grunted. “Oh, I don’t havta imagine, me. Do it all the time. This actually happens a lot.”

“Not for a whole bloody week,” Ten griped, sinking lower into his chair. You imagined a tiny thundercloud forming over his head.

It really had been a whole week. What was supposed to have been a quick fix wasn’t a quick fix at all, and for the past six days, today being lucky number seven, Nine had been a third member of the TARDIS crew. Nine was having fun, really, and you couldn’t help but be entertained, but Ten was fit to give birth to a Slitheen egg if this kept up any longer. He was climbing up the walls, and Nine’s tendency to provoke his future self wasn’t helping. And, by provoking, I mean… cuddling.

You knew that you weren’t helping. You knew that all the attention that you had been paying to Nine was driving Ten to the edge of what a Gallifreyan man could bear (what with their claiming instincts and ‘MINE’ mentality about mated pairs and all that alien business that was the real curse of the Time Lords and the fact that Nine made Ten really, really nervous). You knew that it would be easier if you just gave them both their space. It wouldn’t be boring if you did. All you had to do was sit back with a bowl of popcorn and a video camera and wait for a fight to break out. It was monumentally entertaining. But how could you? Nine’s regeneration had been unexpected and explosive and frightening and there hadn’t been any time for proper goodbyes. Not that he was gone. The Doctor was the Doctor and he hadn’t gone anywhere, but this familiar part of him that you loved so much was buried underneath Ten’s persona, along with all the others that were him. Not to be seen or heard or touched or tasted or smelt, and while you understood those things weren’t really important… it felt important. And you missed him so much.

Which was why you were taking advantage of Nine’s presence and spending as much time with him as you could. Nine was flattered by all the attention he was receiving from you, puffing and preening every time you even glanced at him. Ten was less enthralled.

“You wouldn’t be happy if you were in his shoes,” you said, giving Nine a thump on his broad chest. He didn’t even flinch.

“I will be in his shoes, when I’m him,” said Nine, who squinted at Ten as if he almost didn’t believe his own words. “Oddly enough.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. It’d be different, though, if it was another me. Eight was different.”

“Was he?” you asked. Ten had mentioned all of his previous forms in one way or another, but you didn’t know all that much about them individually (although you had an idea of which ones were the Doctor’s equivalent of bad teenage years, because he hardly ever mentioned them, and when he did mention them, his cheeks just happened to get a little pink). You knew that Eight was one of the fancy ones.

Nine nodded. “Yeah. He would’ve adored you, though.”

“Eight would have begged to keep her,” Ten added, keeping his eyes trained on the book he wasn’t actually reading. “Paradoxes be damned, not that he cared.”

“'Xactly,” said Nine, smiling nostalgically. “He loved all that romantic stuff but he never had anyone t'be romantic with.”

“Shame, that,” you said teasingly. “If only, if only.”

Nine hummed, shifting so that he could lay one arm over your middle and rest his head against the crook of your neck. “Might go t'sleep like this.”

“That’s fine,” you said, wiggling down until you were both reclining comfortably on the cushions. Nine pressed himself deeper into the pillows and sighed in contentment. You smiled, feeling… something that was almost pride but not quite. It was just… sort of flattering, to be the one person who the Doctor was willing to relax with.

Ten made a soft, short whining noise that was too close to a whimper to be ignored. You lifted your head to look at him.

The book had been cast aside. His arms were folded around himself, his knees were drawn up, and those brown eyes that you loved so much were far too full of hurt. Something in your chest jerked at the sight. Nobody was supposed to be able to make him feel that way. Not ever.

Well, you had messed this up, hadn’t you?

You reached out your free arm that wasn’t being cuddled by Nine and made a grabby gesture. Ten immediately perked up at your attention, eyebrows slanting upwards in question.

“C'mon, you too,” you said, beckoning Ten over.

Ten bounded up and over to you, diving onto the chair and snuggling right up to your side.

Nine scowled. “But-!”

“There’s room,” you said firmly, giving Nine’s arm a squeeze. It was a practiced tone of voice that you used whenever he ran his mouth in front of important aliens or stayed awake for four days straight (which, despite whatever he might have said, was not something Gallifreyans were supposed to do).

“She wants me here,” Ten said.

You didn’t think this through, you realized. You had a Doctor on both sides and they had been bickering endlessly for nearly seven days straight. It didn’t matter that there was cuddling. It didn’t matter that you were between them. They would still fight. This was bad.

“Yeah, well, I don’t see you gettin’ much attention, y'bloomin’ show pony.”

“Well, when you’re not around-”

“Oh! So the second I show up, who gets-”

“No, no-no-no, don’t you even!”

“I think it’s obvious who she likes better, pretty boy.”

“Hey!” you snapped. That got their attention rather effectively. “Both of you shut up and go to sleep.”

There was a beat of silence.

“This’ll be really bad if there’s ever three of me here,” Nine said.

You glared at him. “Don’t even speak such things.”

Nine huffed a breath of laughter before laying his head down and closing his eyes. About time, you thought. There hadn’t been peace in the TARDIS for seven days, after all. You wondered how long they would sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to Ten.

“You’re already making up for it,” Ten murmured, nuzzling your shoulder.

And then there was, temporarily, peace between the Doctor and himself. Good job.

Timeless (part eleven)

Summary: You and Bucky pay a visit to Dr. Helen Cho and she examines your injured ankle. 

Bucky x Reader. FLUFF. Word count: 783

TW: none

A/N: This is part eleven of a multi-part series. If you’d like to be added to my tag list so you know when I upload new fics, just let me know!

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: 1  2 3 4  5  6  7  8  9  10


“Hello Y/N, Sergeant Barnes,” said Dr. Cho.

“Please, call me Bucky,” he reached his hand out and she shook it.

“Hi Helen! How are you these days?” You had known Helen for so many years that the formality of calling her ‘Doctor Cho’ had fallen away ages ago.

“Pretty well, thank you. Captain Rogers mentioned your ankle?” Bucky set you down on her exam table and Dr. Cho began looking at your sprained ankle.

“I twisted it after an incident with a broken stiletto,” you explained. Dr. Cho took some x-rays and determined that your ankle wasn’t sprained, but actually had a small fracture.

“Helen, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, voice full of dread.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m going to put you in a cast and I’d like to see some new x-rays in a month. If I’m not in New York, Dr. Banner should be able to take the images and send them to me,” said Helen.

“So I take it I’ll need crutches then? Unfortunately, Bucky can’t carry me everywhere all the time,” you asked.

“Actually, the fracture is small enough that I think a walking cast would work well, so no crutches, just a cane,”

“NO. You CANNOT make me use a cane, Helen. You CAN’T,” your tone was so serious it surprised Helen.

“Why not?” asked Helen and Bucky simultaneously.

“Because everyone already calls me ‘Mom,’ and if I start using a cane the old lady jokes will NEVER STOP—especially if Tony has anything to say about it,”

“Y/N, I’m sorry to say it, but as a doctor I really think it’s the wisest choice,”

“Don’t worry doll, if Tony bothers you, we’ll just bother him right back,” said Bucky, flashing you a grin. Dr. Cho noticed his behavior.

“Fine, fine, you win. I’ll use it. I’m making it pretty though—rhinestones are going to be involved and nobody can stop me!” you joked, and Bucky and Helen snickered. Dr. Cho then cleared her throat and turned to Bucky.

“Bucky, would you mind excusing us for a little while? Since I have Y/N here already, I’d like to run some routine tests, and no offense, but it would be a little easier to do so without an extra person in the room,” said Helen.

“You got it, Doc. I’ll be up on our floor. Have FRIDAY holler if you need anything,” said Bucky. He leaned over to kiss your forehead and then hopped in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, the woman standing next to you went from the professional physician that everyone knew to the old friend you’d shared many good times with.

“Y/N! You and Bucky! You two are so perfect for each other! I mean, I don’t really know Bucky but based on the way I’ve heard you and Captain Rogers talk about him he seems like a pretty great guy, and he’s super cute! Way to go!”

“Thanks, Helen. It’s still a pretty new thing…okay, it’s still a really new thing, but I think it’s going to be great. We’re both really happy when we’re together. Now, about those tests?”

“Oh, I just wanted to take a blood sample to check on the levels of serum in your system. I’m really surprised Dr. Banner hasn’t been able to determine exactly what it is since it’s not the same serum used on Bucky and Captain Rogers. Anyway, it should be quick—I really just wanted Bucky to leave so I could pester you about him. I’m leaving for Seoul tonight after Tony’s party and I wasn’t sure if I’d see you there,” she smiled as she prepped a needle for the blood draw.

“Shit! I forgot that was tonight. Yeah, I’ll be there. I hear Thor will be there, too,” you winked at Helen as she finished up the blood draw and started to fit you for the cast. She had a big crush on Thor and as her friend, you felt obligated to tease her about it from time to time.

“Y/N, if you tell anyone I like Thor I’ll shoot more old lady jokes your way than Tony ever could,” With that, the two of you burst out in laughter. Helen handed you a boring, silver cane.

“Well, Helen, it’s been a pleasure but I’d better go figure out what I’m gonna wear to Tony’s party. I’m getting really sick of those things after all these years. Ah! There I go sounding like an old lady again. I’ll see you at the party, Helen,” you said before making your way to the elevator. Helen waved you goodbye as the doors closed and you went back to your floor.


PART TWELVE 


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Not As They Seem... - 5 (Barry Allen/Reader)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four

Originally posted by khylinrhambo


Barry sat holding you on your couch an hour later, “I’m sorry…I can talk to him…”

“No…” You sniffed shaking your head, “I think that’ll just make it worse.”

He sighed frowning, “He does know…that…we are just friends, right?”

“I’ve told him this.” You looked at him, “I’ve told him a hundred times, but he’s just so…oblivious…”

He watched you sit up wiping your face, “Well if there’s anything I can do…I’ll do it. I want you to be happy.”

You smiled at him taking his hand, “Thank you Barry. You’re a really great friend. I wish I would’ve talked to you sooner.”

“Yeah…I wonder…why we never…” He shrugged, “Talked…or…met up…”

“I don’t know, I’d bring orders to the precinct all the time.” You looked at him sniffing, “Maybe it just wasn’t…the right time.”

He smiled, “I’m glad that time finally lined up. I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you this last month.”

“Me too.” You cleared your throat, “You know, I really feel like I can trust you…I haven’t felt that in a long time.”

“Good.” He squeezed your hand.

You looked at him again, “Can I tell you something…something important?”

His eyes widened as he nodded, “Of course.”

You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment before turning to him fully, “I…I am a meta human.”

“What?” He sat up looking at you more surprise running over him. This was new…this was…different, “What…is your gift?”

You let out sigh of relief, “You’re not scared?”

“No…no not at all.” He smiled at you, “I’m just surprised and curious.”

“I don’t…really know what to call it.” You told him, “Just after everything happened one day I was running in the winter and slipped. I was sure I was going to bite it hard, but it was like…this energy surrounded me like a shield…and I was fine.”

“Like barrier?” He asked excited for you.

“Yeah, just like that.” You told him, “You sound way more excited about this then me.”

“Well…yeah…I mean…” He stopped for a moment falling silent.

“What?” You looked at him concerned, “Barry…”

“I need to share something with you too.” He smiled at you finally.

It was your turn for your eyes to get big, “No…way…no way!”

“Yeah…” He nodded laughing at your excitement of meeting another meta.

“What do you do?” You waited excited, “No no…wait…let me guess…you’re super smart but you have to down play it.”

“No…no…sometimes I wish.” He swallowed before looking at you fully, “Actually…I…uh…”

“What? Barry,” You took his hands in yours smiling, “you can tell me anything.”

“I know…” He nodded smiling at you, “I know I can…which is why I trust you…when I tell you that I…am…the Flash.”

He watched your mouth drop open before your hands flew to your mouth cover the muffled squeal. He smiled when you finally took his hands again, “You are not!”

“I am…” He nodded laughing, “here…”

You felt a two burst of wind hit your face and Barry sat in front of you with two boxes of Chinese, “Is…that Cajun Asian?”

“Mmhm.” He nodded handing you one.

“It’s on the other side of town!” You looked at him baffled.

“Not a problem for a speedster.” He smirked opening his container up.

You let out a laugh, “It is so nice to finally share this with someone.”

“You haven’t told anyone?” He looked at you surprised, “Not even Julian?”

“Especially not Julian…” You looked down, “I’m not sure how he’d react…I’d be afraid he’d lock me up for testing.”

He stared at you as you opened the container finally, “That can’t be easy keeping it a secret from someone you care about.”

“It’s not.” You looked at him, “But I’m sure you do it.”

“I did…for a while, but…” He smiled at you, “I found out that lying to them all the time hurt them more…and now…I have shared it with a few people. They help me out a lot, all the time actually.”

“Really?” You stopped thinking for a moment, “I just…don’t see Julian understanding.”

“Y/N, you should be able to talk to him about it. If he really cares about you he’ll help you explore it and define it.” He swallowed, “Not cage you up…”

Looking back to him you frowned, “Yeah…maybe…but enough about him…tell me what it’s like to speed around everywhere.”

He smiled at your deflection. He never told you he was the Flash in the other timeline, so this was a treat. He was positive you definitely weren’t meta in that time either. Being able to share this was something he’d dreamed of for a long time.

He loved how your eyes twinkled hanging onto every word. He told you everything, well almost everything…

You looked over as there was a knock at the door, “Excuse me.”

“No problem.” He smiled watching you walk to the door opening it.

Your jumped to your throat, “Julian…”

Barry stood up seeing him in the door way, anger flashing over his features. Barry swallowed crossing his arms defensively as you stood there unsure of what to do.

“Well…I see it didn’t take you long to move on…” Julian hissed.

Thunderstorm (HuntxMC)

Not sure how this happened and why I’ve wasted HOURS of my actually super packed afternoon on this *sigh* :D

Anywho, I guess you all know by now that I haven’t played the last two Chris Winters dates. However, I loved the idea of Hunt showing up at the MC’s wedding and whoomp, this thing happened. I had originally written a very sad ending but I figured you guys would appreciate this one more (we are on a freaking Hunt date hiatus after all). Anywho, hope you enjoy! :)


‘Cause this is torturous electricity

Between both of us and this is

Dangerous 'cause I want you so much

But I hate your guts

Daughter – Landfill


I study my reflection in the mirror. My make-up is on point and my hair has never looked this orderly. Still, there’s this tiny glimmer of sadness in my eyes. Now that everyone has left to give me some room before the ceremony, I finally stop pretending for a minute. Stop pretending that I am 100% sure about this. That I love Chris with all my heart and that there has never been anyone else. Because there has, and no matter how hard I force myself to forget him I never quite manage.

Chris is sunshine. He lights up my world, he is sweet and warm, he takes me to places I’ve never been before.

Thomas Hunt was a thunderstorm. Dark, intimidating, electrifying. Our encounters were always charged with energy, an underlying tension that could find no relief.

Keep reading

“Maybe I should just pretend to be Antivan,” Dorian sighed, and moved a pawn. It seemed he couldn’t even come to the garden for chess without getting hateful glares from people.

“You and Josephine do look sort of alike…” Cullen agreed.

“Dark skin, dark hair, devastating good looks… we could be siblings! I’ll just forsake my identity as a Tevinter magister and become a long lost Montilyet!” Dorian joked bitterly.

Cullen moved his knight into its opening position. “And you both have a beauty mark.”

“…Sorry?” Dorian asked, mouth slowly turning up into smirk. “A what?”

Keep reading

akaashikun-deactivated20161212  asked:

the voices i hear sound like channel surfing a radio sometimes, or as if im hearing them talk from another room but not understanding what they're saying, or just gibberish. does anyone else hear the same things sometimes?

2

Jupiter: Hi, my name is Jupiter Greenwood. I am seven years old. As you can probably tell, I’m not really a normal kid. My father likes to remind me of this at least once a day. See, what you’re seeing right now is just a disguise. My Dad makes me hide how I really look so I won’t freak anyone out. I can’t hide my eyes and ears though, which makes him pretty upset. I don’t mind it though, I think they suit me. Him and I really don’t get along, but that’s okay because I have Molly and my grandparents who play with me all the time. Tomorrow is actually my first day of school and I’m pretty excited. I was actually supposed to start last year but Dad was scared. Molly convinced him though. I really hope everyone likes me.. I’ve always wanted a bunch of friends.

Imagine that Dean proposes to you with the help of your friends.

Word Count: 931

A/N: Thanks, I LOVED this request. So fluffy and sweet. Hope you enjoy it just as much!


I woke up to an empty bed. Dean was already gone for the day, but he had left a note on my pillow. “I’ll be back for dinner, sweetheart. I hope you enjoy your day.” I smiled at the sweet gesture and headed into the kitchen to fix myself breakfast.

           Sam was sitting at the table eating cereal. At the seat across from him was a plate filled with pancakes topped with strawberries (my favorite!), a tiny vase with one single rose, and a note. I looked questioningly at Sam, but he just shrugged. I read the note.

           “I am so lucky to have had so many mornings with you. I can’t wait for the rest of them.” I smiled and blushed a little. This wasn’t like Dean, but I was going to enjoy every bite.

           Sam started to speak. “I don’t know if you know how much of a mess Dean really was before he met you. He was closed off, carrying the weight of the world without the help of anyone, and pretty broken. He’s totally different now. He has never felt like he was good enough, but now that he has you, I see him changing. I see him happy. So I want you to know that he loves you, and so do I.”

           I sat there in stunned silence through his heartfelt speech. Why was he saying all of this? I finally found my voice. “You know I love you too, Sam. I really appreciate everything you just said, but um…you mind telling me what’s going on?”

           Sam just grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling, and I couldn’t help but grin back. “Okay. I’ll play the game.” And I ate every bite of my breakfast.

           A few hours later, I was reading in the library when Charlie walked in. “I have something for you!” She said, smiling at me. She was practically dancing with excitement as she handed me a small box and a card. I opened the box first to reveal a necklace Dean had given me for my birthday a few months ago. I opened the card. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. It always amazes me how you can look so perfect, even when you are just wearing sweatpants. Whatever you decide to wear tonight, will you wear this necklace with it? And don’t forget I love you.”

           I knew that Dean loved me, he showed me all the time. Actually saying the words, on the other hand, was rare. I tried not to cry as I looked up at Charlie. She was grinning at me. “I’m supposed to tell you how much Dean loves you and how happy he is now that he’s with you. That’s true, but I mostly just want to tell you how selfishly glad I am that Dean found you, because he gave me a sister. Those boys can be a lot to deal with sometime, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

           I hugged Charlie, unable to hide my emotion at this point. “I feel the same way about you, Charlie. Now will you please tell me what is going on?!” Charlie just laughed and shook her head no.

           “Want me to help you pick out an outfit for tonight?” She asked.

           Finally, it was getting close to dinner time. I had butterflies in my stomach, because I now had an idea of what was coming. Charlie had helped me get ready, and then left. Sam was nowhere to be found. I went to the kitchen, and my breath caught in my throat. There were candles and flowers everywhere. It smelled wonderful and looked gorgeous. I looked around for Dean and finally heard someone behind me. I turned around to find Cas.

           “Oh, hey Cas.” I said, surprised.

           Cas smiled at me. “Hello, Y/N. I’m not staying. I just have one last gift from Dean. He’ll be here in just a few minutes.” With that, Cas touched my forehead with two fingers.

           Magically, I was suddenly reliving the most important moments of my relationship with Dean, but this time I could feel what Dean felt. I felt his attraction to me the night we met, I felt his fear when he realized he had real feelings for me, I felt his passion for me with every touch, I felt how happy he felt just watching me sleep. I felt how telling me he loved me for the first time made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey. I saw our relationship through his eyes, his need to keep me safe, his pride at the way I stood up for myself and the people I loved, his unfailing loyalty to me. I had no idea how Cas had done this, but it was incredible. Dean wanted me to feel exactly how much he loved me.

           I woke up from whatever vision Cas had given me in the exact spot he had left me, happy tears on my face and my heart about to burst with love for Dean. I opened my eyes to see Dean kneeling in front of me, silver ring in hand.

           “I couldn’t find the words to tell you exactly how I felt about you, so I got a little help.”

           My heart started beating faster as I stared into his sparkling emerald eyes. He took my hand and paused with the ring right above my finger. His voice was low as he smiled and spoke one simple sentence.

           “Will you marry me?”

Me and my girlfriend are very stereotypical from a hetero view, I wear skirts and dresses and 100% girly and my girlfriend likes to wear pants and she’s tomboyish.But we have millions of things in common. The catch is, the stereotype is wrong. You don’t look “Gay” or have to be a girl + tomboy as a couple. She helps me buy skirts all the time, it’s actually cute ^^. “Honey this will be good on you”

Date a girl who you’re comfortable with. Date your queen. Date your knight. Date your superhero.  

anonymous asked:

sorry if this is weird but i wanna see if any other jews do this too. do you ever just look at yourself and marvel at how you exist? im regularly so astonished and have incredible pride for my ancestors who survived and prevailed and ultimately made me. i just think about their stories that i dont even know and im so grateful to them and i almost feel holy. im proud to be alive because every breath i take is a gift from them. its like i carry them with me.

yes!! all the time actually 

Thoughts @ 1:02AM  MAY|20|17

If overthinking was an Olympic sport, I would be a champion. Yet, instead of a glorious victory- I, in reality, stand conflicted with feelings of humiliation and shame. Not because I have necessarily done anything to deserve such self-reproach,  I merely experience a situation so foreign to anything I have known - and so familiar all of the same. I would like to say that I am not immature in matters of love, but I begin to doubt that I have a full grasp of the concept.  Let’s imagine that I can understand, or rather do understand ‘love’ in its entirety.  Would you disagree that an experience- such as the one I am about to divulge, is possible?
I am already procrastinating. Trying to avoid actually writing it as it requires me to be profoundly vulnerable and relive and a daily question that I ask myself-  Do I deserve to be sitting beside the Mad Hatter at his tea party?
I think in conclusion to this all, I will have convinced you that I am bonkers enough to be in the loveable ranga’s presence.   We will see.

'Twas a humid Goldcoast afternoon when a girl (this is me) swipes right with such hoping certainty after browsing the profile of a sunkissed male (this is him). Now the girl had downloaded the renowned app only days previously when the Christmas shenanigans had seized and she was boredom-stricken. Surprised that he had matched with her in return, the girl stalked the man’s account once again in awe that he was indeed a legitimate man and not some fake bozo giving her a false sense of self.  She prodded the man with the all important question “Are you real” and his laughable reply went something along the lines of “rofl”. Wait no, he was never a 'rofl’ guy. Let’s try this again, “that’s me, check my Instagram and follow me because my Instagram has sexy body shots of me that you can adore”. Not quite either, he wasn’t all that arrogant- goofily so, but it was humorous nonetheless enjoyed. The truth is, the girl can’t remember much of the conversation as it was short and ended promptly after she deleted the app and reflected on how pathetic she was.
The significance of the Tinder match mightn’t seem relevant but it is-  just hang in there.
This girl remembers still feeling like the guy was a jerk- a fuck boy, a player. No fond memories of this gorgeous being, even presently when remembering the 5-minute-nothing-to-come-of-this-Tinder-conversation conversation. It’s ironic because months passed and the girl found herself sitting states away on a dry afternoon reading a random facebook message she received from the Tinder god she swiped seemingly forever ago.
After more detective work, the girl worked out his identity and pieced together that she had met this boy before (pixels as they were).
But the new conversation flowed, and after the guy admitted he had known of her social media while she still had Vlad The Lad as her little avatar, the girl couldn’t resist but to be flattered.  
The girl was sceptical about male intentions in general, yet the guy felt familiar. Familiar enough that only days after texting back and forth she felt comfortable enough to speak to him in a .. how do you say-  attempted-but-not-quite-there-flirtatious manner. It’s hard to make it sound more respectable than what it was, but you can imagine this Tinder romance isn’t all that romantic so picture winky face emojis or what you will. She should’ve made note that this male who had contacted her online, only wanted to have a flirt and see what he could get. That’s what happens right?

Not long after, the girl did things she hadn’t previously. She fell into the trap of placing a picture alongside words before her worth. It wasn’t shameful for the girl at the time as she had convinced herself that she enjoyed the attention (which she did, he was gloriously flirtatious). As the weeks went on, the more she spoke to the guy, the more she fell into the idea that this guy could be the person she was supposed to meet - someone worth the time to know.
He was everything and soon became everything to the girl. The girl never knew of his real intentions and to be frank- she still has no clue. Put this down to having no experience, or convincing herself that the situation was far from what it is- the girl continued to talk to this guy as if he was the only thing in the world. She adored him. In every sense of the word. ADORED.

Now months passed and what all began Jan has reached into May. They speak still. Regularly, but not as regularly. Deeply but not as deeply. Sexually, but not as sexually. Lovingly, but more lovingly. She has a greater admiration, more interest and possibly more investment in the pursuits of the guy - however still in the dark about what her feelings mean or whether she is allowed to feel them. She remembers when he called her when they first began talking, she loved his voice. She remembers when they would constantly send messages and apologise in fear that they were annoying each other. Now she sends them knowing that she is being a nuisance,  too desperate to care anymore.  She grows to see how different the conversation is.  Although she knows it’s unrealistic and childish, she see’s her importance slipping. It could be the same as it always was, but now the guy has seen what he came to see -maybe he’s tired enough to visit other attractions. Maybe he already was, and if so - how foolish for her to ever think otherwise.

The girl had scaffolded a situation where she held value in the guy’s life - where it could not be certain that she had. She let her feelings and his significance in her life determine how she thought he felt. A disastrous thing to be sure. She reaps the consequences of dreaming up such illusions.  Now, some foreground should have been set - the girl had not had a relationship prior, and her 'speaking’ with the guy had no such boundaries that she could place what it was. That’s a lie, sorry. They termed it as 'in the process of dating’. Which is chuckle-worthy as dating is a process, so it’s the 'pre-screening’ of a process - a process of a process. Anyway, the point remains - the girl would struggle to know what it all entailed as she wasn’t even familiar with stock standard relationships let alone such a bizarre arrangement.

None of this is to be placed on the guy, he is a God among men. But being bias, I can only speak on behalf of the girl, this poor girl who is beyond confused about what it is she feels and whether it’s that far unreciprocated she should feel humiliated.  She believes she is in love, but can she be in love with someone in these circumstances. Is it really love if she hasn’t met the guy, if he doesn’t feel it back, if she hasn’t felt these things before?
It’s embarrassing enough to place such value on someone without knowing they’re taking you for a ride. The guy has knowledge of real (and I mean tangible) experiences. He has dated, he has been in love. He would know what it is like. Doesn’t that tell the girl enough, that if he doesn’t feel the same, it’s because it’s not really what she thinks it is?

The girl wonders more than anything if the guy is too nice to let her know “Hey, you’re actually too much and I don’t know what you expect from me but this has gotten out of hand and I just really wanted to chat up some people and have fun but you’ve turned into a somewhat stalker who is obsessed with me and really annoys me by trying to chat with me all the time when I’m actually not interested and you’re not getting the message”.
A mouthful I know.

Maybe she thinks too much of him, and instead of him being too kind maybe he’s actually a prick and from the start, this has all been an elaborate joke. Making her feel like she’s pretty just to get nudes so he can have a laugh about it - possibly with mates. Some guys like to feel important, it’s possible he wanted to have as many people going at the one time to fuel his ego. Oh, this one is a good one. What if, this guy thought it would all be some quick fun - realised how pathetic she was and felt sympathetic enough to go “whoah can’t back out of this easily” and is slowly waiting for her to do it for him.

There are endless possibilities. It’s a fucked up situation that has ultimately left the girl confused about whether this is going to be the story of her first love or be the most humiliating experience thus far. Either way, she feels ashamed. Ashamed to think that the is even worthy enough to haven taken up the limited time he has. Ashamed to think she is worthy of the things she hopes for. Humiliated to have such encompassing feelings towards someone as fantastic and detached.

If you made it through this one, congratulations. Whether you’ve determined the chances of me obtaining an invitation to the Hatter’s party or not - we can surely agree that today’s post sits among the great psychotic you-really-should’ve-just stopped-thinking-and-had-a-sleep posts.

Prompt: Sakura sedates Sasuke for his own good

will edit later. enjoy!

Update: edited!

He blinked. The room was white—white walls, white curtains, white sheets—lit only by fluorescents, perfumed with disinfectant. Hospital. He was in a hospital, he realized, staring up at the ceiling. Sasuke furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t even know where he was or how he got there. He didn’t know for how long; or where he was last; or why his head hurt; or what floor he was on; or why the fuck hospitals couldn’t choose any other color to decorate.

He sighed. All he knew was that he was tired, that the room was infuriatingly white, and that he, contrary to what he first believed, wasn’t alone. Sakura was in the room.

His eyes widened. Sakura?

“Oh good. You’re awake,” she said, smiling. She dragged the chair from against the wall, placing it next to Sasuke’s hospital bed, and took a seat. Her left arm was in a sling, he noticed. “I had a feeling you would be soon. But before we get into anything else, let me just write a few things down on your chart.”

Sasuke remained silent as he observed Sakura scribble some words onto the clipboard. He didn’t know what she was writing, but she was struggling a little, having difficulty finding a comfortable position with the sling and all. Sasuke glanced at her arm. It didn’t appear to be broken, just bandaged very tightly. He wondered what happened. Sakura rarely got injured. If anything, it was usually him or the dobe who needed the medical treatment. He wondered who hurt her. He wondered—

“Sasuke-kun? Is everything okay?”

He looked up. He didn’t realize that she stopped writing. She looked worried. “What happened to your arm?” he asked.

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