no mets fans

anonymous asked:

I think you have a pretty strong personality... People usually find those people scary with a strong personality I have heard... You're a lucky guy though. Very less people are born with such personality.

I’ve heard this a lot when I worried people were intimidated by me. That’s not at all what I want to come off as. I want to be approachable. I want people to be ok around me. I still freak out when others freak out around me. I don’t understand why.
I met a fan at ctcon last year that was shaking when she met me. I ran up to her to make sure she was ok cause I’d hate to cause any kind of anxiety or nervousness. I’m very approachable.
If you see me or any of the crew at a con, please approach us! Talk to us! We love hearing from you guys! It’s reassuring!

About their relationship

I believe its mutual between Juliet and Andy,But not love or anything of the sort.I believe they do still strongly dislike eachother deep inside.If anything they are married friends with strong benefits.She gets money and fame.He gets fame and sex.I believe she lusts after him more though.How she willingly talks about giving him hj or having sex with him.or doing the “look who i have and you don’t” thing too abunch of 12-whatever age year old “Andy” fans (I’ve met Andy fans who were into his looks whom are 30)

My questions about their relationships are.
“What is up with that stupid shoujo-esque first time meeting story?,You know the white rabbit and the firefly it reminds me of twilights lion and the lamb”

“why did they say they met at warped when she was all buddy buddy with scout?”

“why did they hate eachother then years after got fucking married”

“is their relationship a better lovestory than twilight or is twilight a better love story than :THE WHITE RABBIT AND THE DRAGONFLY:?”

Lemme know what ya think

A/N; Honestly, the whole white rabbit story I don’t believe for shit. Even when I was fan of hers I didn’t believe it. The dragonfly story is a bit more believable considering I think I even remember seeing a photo of Juliet with dragonflies on her hands. & Also that story doesn’t seem as farfetched. -N


Oh no, its green PewDiePie, RUN!!!

Have We Met Before?


She’s ready. Ready to go home, back to the world they belong in, her heart stampeding as the portal swirls emerald and white two inches from her toes. All they need to do it jump. She feel’s Emma reach for her hand, to which she grasps, not wanting to get separating in the in between. Any second now, it just needs to get a little larger and then -


They duck as something whizzes past their heads, brushing the top of her hair as they fall to the ground. “What the hell?”. She turns to the log, seeing a second arrow pierce the bark.

“Not another step ladies.”

She freezes at the voice. A voice only heard in her dreams, a sound lost to her since that horrid day. It can’t be though, he’s gone. It’s not him. The disbelief muffled out as she turns to the source. Time stops. Swirls around and hones in on a silhouette she’d never thought she’d get to see again. Her ears ring, blood thundering about as she stands on shaky legs, the rocks below shifting beneath her boots. Blue. Bright ocean blue. They stare right at her, and she is lost to them. But it’s not possible. He’s gone. She watched him die. She buried him. Laid a rose on his grave. Has gone back every night to the grave site just to talk to him, though no one answers.

She’s going crazy.

“This is a robbery.”

Oh God.

His voice.

It’s his voice.

The soft timber burns through her as she brushes past Emma, hands trembling in leather gloves as his bow points directly at her. He’s a mirage. He has to be. But she has to make sure she’s not hallucinating, has to just see if he is truly standing, breathing and alive not ten feet away, needs to feel his heart beating under her palm.

Her voice shakes as she calls his name, not really to him, but to herself, because this can’t be real, feels utterly impossible that she can see him, standing, right there, talking to her, actually talking, using real words, not just ones her mind creates when the nights get lonely and desperate.

“Let’s go!” He changes his stance, shifting his aim away from her, though his eyes maintain her gaze. “Off with the jewelry.” She’d give everything she has to know if this isn’t a dream, part of this odd wish realm her mind is conjuring. Would give the stars freely if she could, just to be able to touch him, to feel him. She hears Emma react, anxious as she moves past her, something about he’s not real, it’s a dream, he’s not real. But he has to be real. Doesn’t he? He’s right there. Looking straight at her. He has to be real.

She steps closer, heart thrashing about her chest as the world fades to nothing but him, his hair darker, shorter, less scruff, but she can see his dimples that used to smile at her, can see the tension in strong arms that once held her close, the hot burn of tears lining her vision as he too steps closer, edging away the distance between them. Why doesn’t he recognize her? Why hasn’t he thrown down his bow and kissed her till their breath ran dry? Why is he…he doesn’t know who she is. The urge to crumble flourishes at the realization. It’s the wish realm. A realm where no one is who they are in Storybrooke. It’s a false creation. A life where they haven’’t met, where she ran away from him at the tavern, he doesn’t even know who she is, who they are.

She see’s it. The edging line of black ink on his forearm. The prophecy she was so afraid, had only tasted it for a less than a year, lived with the inkling of what love was, what happiness was. It’s not him. But it is him. The confliction runs tumultuously through her as Emma screams they have to go, and they do, they need to get home, but it’s him. It’s her Robin. Kind of. But everything about him, it tugs her further away from their escape, closer to him, she needs him. Needs to talk to him, regardless of his unknowing stare, confused look and drawn arrow, pointedly at her once more.

She just needs a moment with him.


She tenses hard at the lost affectionate nickname as the memories crash about her mind; M'lady you’re injured. Apologies M'lady. His extended hand in rescue in the alternate universe with the Evil Snow. M'lady, M'lady, M'lady…..

“I should have you know, I don’t intend on letting this arrow loose, but I won’t ask again. Your jewelry.” He motions down to her hands, locked in fists by her sides. It should scare her, walking up to an armed man who has no idea who she is, who is obviously not quite the man she remembers, but the fear is nowhere, not a scant inch bubbles in her gut. His eyes frown at her continuing apprehensive approach she can’t help but step forward with and it’s there, pine, and fresh rain, it coats her like a warm hug, he still smells like forest.

The point of his arrow presses into the wool of her coat, and his eyebrow arches, “You’re quite brave aren’t you?”

Is she? Is this bravery? Being sucked towards him like this. Unable to control the urge to be near him when he has no clue who she is? Well, bravery be damned, and apparently self control over her tears that now drip warm on to wind blown cold cheeks. He softens at that. Seeing her cry. He didn’t really mean to frighten them, just needs to pawn off some gold so he can buy some food for the Merry Men.

And yet.

There is something strange about her. Something in her wet shining eyes that has his bow lowering uncharacteristically, he’s seen her eyes before. Where he cannot place, but they are a beautiful color of warm chocolate, flecked with gold around her irises, and if he is being openly blunt, well, they are the most stunning eyes he’s ever seen, she is the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. But he has seen her before, she seems so familiar, his heart apparently agreeing as it thumps erratically in his chest.

He’s heard of love at first sight, though has never encountered the phenomenon before, and yet is partial to believe that maybe he is experiencing it for the first time.

“You’re not from around here are you?” He questions, with his weapon now hanging beside him, heart clenching at her shaky intake of breath, and she looks scared, or rather anxiously timid as her eyes scan his face, down his body, lingering on his right forearm for a moment. He wants to touch her, reach out the small distance between them and link their hands together, promise he won’t hurt her, has this sudden urge to protect her, to hold her, kiss the red plump lips her white teeth bite down into. Who is she though?

He needs to know, needs to quell the strange sense of deja vu flooding him in a tidal wave, “Have we met before?”

Regina smiles at that, and Robin feels deliciously warm from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair, she’s got a gorgeous smile, meek as it may be.

“Because forgive M'lady, but, I doubt I’d ever forget meeting you.”

She beams, through tears, and Robin has no doubt, maybe he’s found the one his soul has been searching for.

When the Moon fell in love with the Sun



the guy at the counter had a steven star shirt on, and as i was looking around for something to buy he talks to me and asks if my backpack was the cheeseburger backpack, i say yeah. 


I show him my shirt ( cus I’m also wearing the star tshirt ) and we talk about the new episodes of su while i buy something