no more it crowd ever


Decades turning right and turning left
into dead ends
between four cold walls.

Drowning in my own spit
suffocating in my own air
beautiful existence rotting
into a miserable curse.

Once a week I smile
and you snap a picture
telling every body
I am enjoying my life
more than ever before.

The crowd cheers
as my heart aches,
their joy is blinding
to the tears I shed
into this tiny pool.

I never knew heartbreak until I was standing in a crowded room, surrounded by people, feeling more lonely than I ever had because you weren’t there holding my hand.
—  02/17/17
The Chair (Lafayette x modern!au reader)

This was originally a ship, but someone had suggested to turn this into a fanfic! I thought it was a cute idea, so here it is! Hope you enjoy! Sorry it’s kind of short :/.


You arrived home after the longest day you could possibly have. Your day was filled with boring meetings that were back to back. The barista got your order wrong at the café you went to on break; a stranger bumped into you, causing you to spill the hot, wrong coffee all over yourself; the train ride home was more crowded than ever, making you feel like you were suffocating; and just as you began to think your day couldn’t get any worse, it started pouring as soon as you left the train station, forcing you to drag yourself home in the cold, heavy rain.

You slammed the door with a foul expression plastering your face, making your lovely, cheery boyfriend, Lafayette, emerge from the kitchen were he was happily putting the finishing touches in the macarons he made.

“Welcome home, mon am-” He paused as soon as he saw you. You gave him a tearful, melancholy expression before both of you said the one word that would end it all.


The two of you raced to the bedroom, you drying yourself off and changing out of your wet clothes into a soft sweater and some warm sweatpants. Lafayette yanked the comforter off the bed and grabbed the biggest pillow he could find. He ran back out to where a soft brown recliner sat, and began setting up the area while you were drying your hair. You appeared from the bedroom finding Lafayette standing there, waiting for you.

“You don’t have to just stand there. You could’ve sat down,” you said.

“Ah, mais (but), this chair is not meant for one single person. It was meant for two.” He walked over to you and lifted you up in the air.

“Actually, it was made for only one person,” you chuckled, wrapping your legs around his torso.

“Mon chéri, it does not matter what it was made for. It only matters what we use it for.”

And with that you laughed and planted a kiss on his forehead. He carried you over to the recliner and sat down. You adjusted your position, so that you were cuddled up to his side and your legs spread across his lap. He grabbed the comforter, threw it on top of the both of you, wrapped his arm around you and smiled.

“Ready, mon amour?” His hand hovering over the handle of the chair. You gave him a desperate nod.

“Un.” His hand grabbed the handle.

“Deux.” His arm tightened around you in a supportive way.

“Trois!” He pulled the handle and the chair opened itself up to you. Your feet were lifted off the floor, and your upper bodies reclined backwards, creating the utmost comfort for both of you. He turned on the TV, switching it over to Netflix, and played (movie of your choice). He made sure to set the volume low, but still audible, not wanting you to develop a headache after the dreadful day you endured. He stroked your hair and whispered in your ear, “Tu es très beau et trop bon pour ce monde. Tu ne mérites pas d'avoir une mauvais journée, jamais.” (You are beautiful and too good for this world. You do not deserve to have a bad day, ever.)

You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but by the tone of his voice and the soothingness of his touch, you felt comforted and at home. Lafayette pressed his lips to the top of your head and held them there for a while, like he’s trying to send his love to your brain. You smiled against his side and exhaled a breath that you were holding in all day. All of your frustration and stress were released from you, and your eyes slowly closed, sending you off to sleep.


Your eyes fluttered open to a warm ray of sunshine on your cheeks. You looked up to see Lafayette, peacefully asleep. Carefully, trying not to wake him, you attempted to stand up up and get out of the chair, but suddenly, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lafayette asked, holding you close to his body. You let out a tired giggle.

“Laf, I have to go to work still. I have a job, remember?” He gave you a funny look.

“Mon coeur, it is Saturday. You do not work on Saturdays.” Your sleepy expression began to unravel into a relieved smile. You fell back into the chair, closing your eyes.

“Je t'aime, Y/N,” Lafayette said, with a smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” you replied, happily dozing back to sleep.

Just pinned to InstaLikes: Liked on InstaGram: “Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.” Arthur C. Clarke - Often we find ourselves feeling all alone in the universe, actually we usually pursue this feeling in an ever more crowded world; but nothing amplifies this feeling more than seeing nothing but the lights of stars in the sky. - And that’s when we look for UFOs (cue the X-files music) 👽

Max was aiming to get into his apartment as quick as possible without any disturbance or hindrance. Naturally, that could never be avoided in front of the ever more crowded apartment building. “Look, I get if you just wanna hang and chit-chat, but some of us would like to get into our place and get some rest.” Freaking New Yorkers… If the hospitals weren’t this good, he’d have gone anywhere else in the world. “Seriously, move.” The thick boston accent rolled off him along with waves of annoyance.
Thousands Turn Out on King Day to Hear Bernie Sanders Speak in Alabama
Thousands of people packed into an auditorium on Monday night for a rally held by Senator Bernie Sanders that at times felt like a boisterous football game.
By Yamiche Alcindor

Thousands of people packed into an auditorium here on Monday night for a Martin Luther King Day rally held by Senator Bernie Sanders that at times felt like a boisterous football game.

After pointedly debating Hillary Clinton on Sunday, Mr. Sanders seemed more energized than ever as he engaged with people in the crowd who shouted his name, loudly applauded at his policy ideas and booed at mentions of Mrs. Clinton and Republican presidential candidates. The Vermont senator’s hourlong speech focused on the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and on how his presidency would continue Dr. King’s legacy by fighting various forms of discrimination and inequality.

It is absolutely imperative that we see his life not as a museum piece, something simply to be looked at, to be studied, to be appreciated, to be kept on a shelf,” Mr. Sanders said of Dr. King. “To truly honor the life of Dr. King, we must fight to carry out his radical and bold vision for America. And his vision was of a nation in which we not only end all forms of institutional racism, and bigotry, but a nation in which all of us, black, and white, and Latino, Asian-American, Native American, all of us, come to together to create a country which provides economic, social and environmental justice for all.

Mr. Sanders also spoke about other core issues of his campaign, including the need to break up big commercial banks, to reform campaign finance laws, to increase the minimum wage to $15 an hour, to invest in sustainable energy and to transform wealth distribution. He talked of recently released details about his plan to create a “single-payer Medicare for all” health care system, and of his plans to use taxes on the rich to pay for progressive programs. And, riding the high of his debate performance, Mr. Sanders reminded the crowd that he is close to beating Mrs. Clinton in Iowa and New Hampshire.

About 5,700 people were at the event at Boutwell Auditorium, and another 1,400 people outside watched it from an overflow area on large televisions.

“Roman Reigns has developed SO much in such a short time. I wish that they could’ve saved his push for next year’s Wrestlemania rather than this year’s because he has grown so much and no one can deny that. His mic skills are so much better, his moves are more fluid and exciting and he portrays emotion well. He clicks with more of the crowd than ever before and will continue to grow. Hopefully he can get a push soon.“

yesterday, cristiano was a leader. he knew what was expected from him and he knew his team needed him more than ever, he cheered the crowd and his team mates the entire time, worked his ass off to get those goals to get real madrid to the semis. he took the responsibility and put his team on his back and showed his character, and that was the biggest reason for our win, because we had a leader on and off the pitch. something to learn from.

What I love about being a Richonne shipper:

  • The fandom. Richonne shippers are some of the most clever, hilarious, insightful people. I enjoy rolling with this crowd so much. More than I ever have in any other fandom. Do we get bitter and feisty on occasion? Of course, but we always touch back down to Earth, and our ire is always well justified (by and large). Barring all that? The support is immense. When we’ve been the target of hostility, from outside and within, we’re there for each other. We’re there to reassure each other. And we’re understanding. When people jump ship, we don’t turn our back, we get it. (Well, unless those who jump ship become asshats as some have, ahem). Some of the fiction and art produced in the name of this ship astounds me. Even with its ups and downs, I love this fandom. 
  • Rick and Michonne. King and Queen of the Apocalypse. This ship consists of two of the best characters in the show. The beautifully flawed (and fucked up lol) Rick Grimes and the wounded, yet incredibly resilient and intelligent, Michonne. Watching these two gravitate into each other’s orbit has been a delight. They’re two people who wouldn’t have looked at each other until the apocalypse had stripped them to their core. They’re two characters who we can be assured will be around for a while, which keeps weight off my mind. They’re the balm to each other’s ills. They take my breath away. 
  • Danai Gurira and Andy Lincoln. Two amazing actors. Two beautiful humanitarians. We couldn’t ask for better people to embody this ship. Everyday I am grateful that our ship is represented by them. 
  • The development. As teeth-gnashingly slow as it has been, it has been downright intricate. Since season three, Mazzara and Gimple assembled the building blocks for something breathtaking – and I truly believe the pay-off will be worth the wait. This is one thing Gimple as done right.
  • :)


Months have passed since the day he arrived on this planet. Months have passed, but the memory of that day remains painfully clear. He can still recall the crunching of metal as the Black Zero folded impossibly into itself, collapsing into the singularity. The surprised and terrified cries of his crew members as they were swept into the Phantom Zone still haunt him. Enhanced abilities from this system’s young star allowed him to hear such distant sounds, and they were what brought him to his knees on that day. Kal-El exiled his ship and his crew to a dimension of vast, empty void, and yet allowed Krypton’s last general to live, albeit under certain conditions that the warrior would do no harm.

Months have passed, and Dru-Zod has heeded those terms, existing among humans as nothing more but another face in the crowd. No prison on Earth could ever hope to hold him, and though he could match the son of El in battle, Dru reluctantly surrendered to peace. Kal has been, for the most part, satisfied with this compliance— but what Earth’s guardian hasn’t known is Dru’s real reason for feigning such cooperation.

Kal has attempted to track Dru’s movements, but the general’s acceptance of ceasefire made the younger Kryptonian’s efforts slacken over time, rendering him completely unaware of the hidden workshop Dru has established in the underbelly of Gotham City. Deals struck with Gotham’s more greedy of shadow figures— those who cared nothing for the general’s malice against humanity and only wanted money or favors— were what aided him in securing the location, giving him enough secluded space to develop his project. Kal-El was never aware that Dru’s true intention has always been reopening the Phantom Zone, ever since the day it took away everything precious to him.

Over these long months, Dru has worked tirelessly on acquiring and advancing existing Earth technology, combining it with what little remained of the world engine after its destruction, a desperate persistence driving him to perform experiment after experiment, his end goal of an operational phantom lens always seeming to be one step out of reach, and yet failure was not an option. Giving up was never an option. Dru’s determination and tenacity were what pushed him to become the general of a planet-wide military, and even if science was not the purpose of his birth, he is by no means unfamiliar with advanced technological engineering, the schematics for Jor-El’s initial phase phantom drive and lens still fresh in his mind after all these decades. The sensation of relief he feels when the phantom lens finally powers to life is almost cripplingly immense.

The last general of Krypton stands solitary in his Gotham hideaway, the lens before him composed of the barest of materials, shaped in a circle roughly the same height as he. The lens acts as a secured portal fixated in time and space, a pathway into another dimension— into the Phantom Zone. The relief that nearly crushed him is now washed away by extreme unease as he stares directly into the void absent of both life and death. Dru doesn’t know if his crew remains intact, and even if they are, that begs the question whether or not they’ve remained sane. Their well-being aside, how can he call for them? How will he find them? No— Dru sets his jaw and immediately shoves any doubts to the back of his mind. He’s gotten this far; to stop now would be nothing less than absurd

One hand gripping the outer metal ring of the lens for support, he can only pray to Rao that doing so is enough to keep a portion of him within this world, the other hand tentatively breaching the lens itself, fingers crossing from this dimension to the next, his touch sending ripples across the surface of the lens, and he can feel his flesh leaving him. Physical matter does not exist within the Phantom Zone. According to Jor’s research from so many years ago, people and even objects become incorporeal, the ghosts of what they once were, endlessly drifting, never able to touch, or age. Gritting his teeth, Dru advances further, allowing the Phantom Zone to claim his entire arm, chills running through what remains of him in the physical world, until he finally plunges his head through the lens.

The sensation is utterly indescribable. It’s quite possibly a good thing his powers from the sun allow him to live without breathing, now that his lungs are unable to draw air from a mouth that technically no longer exists. Everything his discarnate vision registers is without color, without light, without dark. It’s nothing, but somehow it’s something. There’s no time to contemplate; the Zone itself is not why he’s done this. Hand in the physical world tightly clutching the frame of the lens, Dru desperately utters a voiceless name.

            ❝ Faora!!