nothing was working to record it but my phone

dating kj apa | (would include)

Originally posted by alfred-enoch

- you love it when he lets his bead grow up

- “you look so hot, and rough”

- watching him playing his guitar

- “babe can you film me playing the guitar for a sec”

- asking him to give you guitar lessons and totally sucking

- “it’s too hard!” “you’ve almost got it babe”

- kj would always mention you in everything, including interviews, he loves to brag.

- teasing him about his red hair, but secretly loving it

- never being able to be mad at you

- “god you’re so adorable”

- forehead kisses on forehead kisses

- late night cuddle sessions

- always takes you to see your favourite bands/artists when they tour near you

- constant banter

- “for the love of god- kj you just aren’t daddy”

- getting to meet the entire riverdale cast

- everyone would love you guys as a couple

- being his date to all his events

- having to third wheel whenever cole & kj were together

- you’re his princess

- going to set to visit kj

- whenever he was back with you he took you out every single weekend

- being silly/goofy together all the time

- constant facetimes when he’s away

- ass grabbing

- “kj! we’re in public” “baby i know you love it”

- barley any fights

- melting when he calls you baby girl

- kj constantly posting photos of you on his instagram and even on his story

- netflix all day

- make out sessions

- literally everything in your entire relationship in passionate

- spending as much time together as possible before he has to go back to work

- visiting new zealand with me

- “jeez it’s freezing!”

- cuddles on cuddles on cuddles

- long hugs

- borrowing (stealing) all of kj’s clothes

- watching him drool as you walk around in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts

- playing with his dog

- “you’re the cutest doggie in the world”

- jealous kj so much jealous kj

- “quit looking at my girl” “my girl?”

- teasing

- long kisses

- piggy backs when your feet start to ache

- pestering him to sing to you

- catching him recording you as you dance around in the bathroom

- over protective kj

- chill nights in

- going camping and turning your phones up and disconnect yourself from the world but not each other

- lots of disposable cameras

- laughing so much your stomach aches

- massages his head when he was trouble sleeping

- back scratches

- taking goofy pictures together and of each other

- “you’re such a dork”

- wakes up to cuddle you in the middle of the night when you wake up from a nightmare.

- watching riverdale with him and watching him make out with cami

- “is this awkward?” “nah i’m kinda jealous”

- going to coachella with him, the riverdale gang and he’s other guy friends

- “your girlfriends smoking” “shut it”

- constant present and surprises and not to mention flowers

- buying you a puppy so when your home and he isn’t you won’t be all alone.

imagines taglist🌿| @hauntedcherryblossombanana-blog @sadbreakfastclb @jugandbettsdetectiveagency @kindfloweroflove @fragilefrances @natalieroseg @xbobaaa @sardonic

anonymous asked:

Hiya mom!!! i ❤️ your writing so so much,,,it is the best™ I was wondering how you think monsta x would react to seeing/hearing you sing a lullaby in your native language while you're doing something super domestic like,,,,folding laundry,,doing the dishes,,,something like that,,,thanks so much for taking time out of your busy college schedule to write for us,,,you are a writing angel sent to us from the writing gods,,,ily mom ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Shownu would find it incredibly enjoyable, but he wouldn’t disturb you. He’d try to keep listening as silently as possible but knowing him he’d accidentally bump against something and you’d stop but he’d just give you one of those embarrassed smiles and ask you to please carry on - he really wants to hear more of your voice. 

Wonho would do the sappiest thing, he’d come over to where you were and just prop his elbows up under his chin and watch you do the chore and sing. You’d realize he’s there and you’d jokingly ask him what has him looking so mesmerized for and he’d simply answer with; “You.” 

Kihyun would insist on you teaching him the lyrics, he might stumble over pronunciation and lyrics but you’d end up not finishing what you’re doing because your boyfriend would whine for you to give him this impromptu language lesson. 

Hyungwon would try to not bother you but at the same time he’d end up being like “With your voice, I think I might just fall asleep right here on the floor.” to which you might actually have to stop him from laying on the floor. But also he’d tell you something like “I want to hear you sing more often,,,,,,” 

Minhyuk would get out his phone and record you, he wouldn’t hide his wide and adoring smile and once you catch him you’ll be like what are you up to now and he’ll just save the video, kiss your cheek and be like, “Nothing, just now I have something to watch when you’re not in my bed for the night and I miss youuuuu~” 

Jooheon would completely fall into the melody and would remember it well. Maybe to the point of when you’re finished with what you’re doing you’ll find him working on his own thing, but humming along to your songs tune. He’d be embarrassed, afraid that he might have messed up, but it’d be so cute. 

Changkyun would tease and be like “What are you saying~ C’mon tell me~” and he’d hug you from behind and distract you from your chores and song with little kisses. You’d keep singing and he’d mumble that you shouldn’t hide such a pretty voice from him anymore. 

aggressively queer steve rogers thou

steve rogers getting in fights even before he knew what it meant when the other kids called him ‘queer’ and ‘fairy’ and getting in even more fights once he finds out.

steve stepping out with boys and girls and not giving a single flying fuck who knows it. steve hanging out with drag queens and trans women and strange fey artists in all the wrong parts of town.

steve kissing bucky like a challenge and bucky kissing him back like a victory.

bucky’s parents no longer speak to them and their apartment has more holes than walls but steve proudly introduces bucky as his fella and no one in their neighbourhood blinks because everyone’s always known about that rogers boy.

the priest gave up long ago.

steve rogers getting his face smashed in and his arm broken in a police raid and grinning at bucky through the blood. “I had them on the ropes”

steve rogers lying on his enlistment forms to hide his sickness and multiple applications but also to hide his arrest record. steve outing himself to everyone once they’ve given him the serum. philips is horrified and carter smirks and steve just sticks his chin out, stubborn as ever and really, what can they do about it now?

steve rogers kissing bucky in front of the howling commandos for the first time right before a mission “for luck”. the howlies teasing them mercilessly. bucky getting called “mrs. rogers” more than his actual name.

steve rogers waking up in the 21st century and being absolutely fucking furious that his queerness has been utterly erased from the history books. sees articles and think-pieces and documentaries and not a single one says steve rogers was queer. sees biographies discrediting the howlies accounts of steve and bucky’s relationship.

steve rogers growling all this out at the first press conference after the battle of new york, glaring at the reporters and the cameras and fury just puts his face in his hands because god, rogers was supposed to be the easy one. steve cussing out republicans and racists and homophobes. steve refusing to do official interviews but always answering random people on the street armed with nothing other than their camera phone and the guts to approach Captain America.

steve rogers embracing the word bisexual with pride. steve crying when he talks about bucky for the first time after the ice to a fifteen year old blogger in starbucks. steve rogers attending rallies and protests and die-ins and his arrest record has its first entry in seventy years.

aggressively queer steve rogers.

When I’m Not Around

Author’s Note: This Jared Leto fic was requested by the amazeballs @teggles07 to the song ‘When I’m Not Around’ by Mark Wilkinson. I hope that you enjoy! Please play this song in the background, if you can, when you read. XOXO

Trigger Warning: Angst, Profanity, Jared’s POV


The sounds of our footsteps treading through the now empty home brought shivers down my spine. This had been my home for so long it just seemed odd to see it this way. Void of memories or people. Void of myself. I turned to her. The one that I had found myself engulfed in for what feels like an eternity. She made this life of mine something that I just couldn’t turn away from.

I watched as her short locks fell to her shoulders as she undid the small ponytail. Shaking her hair free, she slid open the door leading to the pool. As her fingers laced the bottom of her shirt, she looked over her shoulder, winking at me before removing it teasingly slow.

She jumped into the pool against the real estate agents wishes causing me to laugh a little to myself. She brought life to my routine. Youth to my soul that was slowly beginning to age just as I did. But when she walked in my life, I swear to you, this was something that I never thought could happen to me. I was stronger with her. I was more passionate about what I wanted. What I needed. And I always thought that I already was but she just…….she completed me.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I know you didn't get tickets 😞 either did I 💔😩 Any previews, or Drabbles to make this awful day a little better. I think I'm gunna spend my concert money on a record player and Harry's vinyl

hope this makes you smile! sorry you didn’t get tickets :(

from the fanfiction rewrite :) 

*******

There was a lot I could take. I could take the ridicule from my town when I decided to leave to pursue the unknown, and I could take being yelled out about bruises on apples while I worked. What I could not take was notifications from Instagram that harrystyles posted a photo, three times. I had yet to open my phone, the sound of the television in the background fading into nothing.  

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Lucy.”

My head snapped up, cracking my neck as I found Harry’s eyes. “You’re about to be a ghost, Harry, posting on Instagram while you were in my bathroom. That was poor planning on your part, but I swear if these are just,” I hissed, unlocking my phone and going straight to his profile.

Three white boxes.

Three. White. Boxes.

“You,” I stopped speaking because there were no words. I had no words. Harry Styles made me speechless, which wasn’t out of character, but it was when he was in my vicinity to yell at. “You and these boxes.”

He shrugged, grin wide. “I quite like the way it looks. Makes it a bit more organized.”

I wasn’t going to tell him that it made my blood pressure rise at a rapid speed. “Yeah, but you see, now that you’ve posted three boxes people are going to be expecting something and do you know that people lose sleep over your organizational skills, because we’re all afraid that we’re going to miss something.” I slumped against the arm of the couch, setting my ice cream off to the side so I could pull at my hair. “We have no idea what you’re about to announce or what you’re about to do, and you’re just sitting there chuckling at my reaction.” I pouted.

“I’ve never gotten to witness this type of reaction before, if I’m honest. It’s sweet,” he patted my shin, “is this what it’s normally like?”

“It’s normally worse,” I mumbled, truthfully. I shattered my phone screen when the Another Man covers came out, in the freezer section of a Sainsbury’s. “This is a relatively tame reaction.”

“Is it? What’s an untamed reaction?” Harry grinned, turning towards me, folding his legs so that he was sitting like a toddler. “Have you thrown something?”

“So, we should start talking about Freckled Constellations,” I moved on, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

“You have thrown something!”

I pointed at him with my dripping spoon. “No! I cried in Bill’s when Niall’s song came out.” Regret immediately washed over my entire body, “You were not supposed to find that out.”

His grin was spectacular. “That’s brilliant.”

I groaned, “The waiter paid for my meal because he was so uncomfortable! He thought I was crying over the food.” My eyes shut, blocking the memory from entering the forefront of my brain. Harry’s laughter wasn’t helping.

Imagine Chris trying to win you back from Jensen Ackles

“Chris, go home you’re drunk,” You called from the balcony as you scanned the streets to make sure no paparazzi were around.

“I’m not finished…you come home with me….everything’s better when you’re there….” Chris slurred as he stumbled to stand up straight.

“That isn’t my home anymore, we talked about this,” you could feel tears in your eyes as you watched the once love of your life plead for you to come back.

“No, I didn’t agree to this… I know you miss me, he’s not goood enough, and the sex…baby I know the sex is better with me,” Chris looked up at you a large grin spread across his face.

“Really? You know this because you had sex with Jensen?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his lame attempt to keep you talking….which was idly working.

“Well I’ve had sex with you….and we’re sooooo good together, there’s no way he’s better, plus he’s not really my type, ” Chris’s blue eyes twinkled at you.

“No, apparently brunette ex girlfriends are, Chris I’m calling Scott, you need to sleep it off, and for the record, Jensen and I are not dating,” you grabbed your phone to text via brother to come get him before he made a bigger fool of himself.

“Nothing happened, I swear to god…please can I just come upstairs,” Chris whined.“maybe show you how much better I am…”

“Chris, I’m not having sex with you, you’re ridiculous, we broke up…and who I sleep with is my business, you lost the right when you went out with Minka,” you snapped at the actor as you typed a quick text to Scott to come get his brother.

“Y/n, I swear on my family nothing happened….I love you, please…"Chris pleaded.

You look down at your phone and Scott had apparently been on his brothers side, "Y/nickname, he might be drunk but he’s telling the truth,”

“Which part? About the cheating or be better in bed then my co star?” You snapped while Chris continued to shoot you the puppy dog face.

“I’m team cap, so let’s just say I agree with all of the above, just let him tell you his side, he misses you…come on I know you miss him Stacey texted me and outed you so don’t play hard to get.” Scott teased her hoping she would give his brother another chance.

“He can sleep in the couch, but that doesn’t mean I buy this whole act,” you signed as you waved chris upstairs hearing him scream “yes” as he ran to the door to get buzzed in.
“One mention of minka and you can pick up what’s left of him in the street, Scott.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Scott laughed.

“Bbbaaabbytt, you sure you don’t want to see who’s better?” Chris called as he stumbled up the stairs.

“Let’s get you some coffee then talk.”

Was bored at work, so I wrote a parody verse for ‘Lost in Thoughts’ (because that’s all Azura can sing). Had to record it on my phone, with my computer playing the instrumental in the background, but nothing excuses the derpy voice, OTL. 

Lost my Orbs, All Alone
You are the ocean’s salt waves
Destined to seek 2D heroes just beyond your reach
But RNG ever fails, wasting your time
Pulls like these should be crimes.

Embrace your loss, you 'free 2 plays’
Gaze upon your 3-star summons
A Bartre, Florina, another Azama

Scream with me a cry of anger and rage
Why all blue orbs when I need a red
Colorless pulls are a trap,
Pity percentages lie; they are crap.

Made with SoundCloud
a followup report from the department of random annoyances

Apropos of nothing in particular! A couple days ago I started manually forwarding all the spam messages I was getting from that dating site (Plenty of Fish) to their PR address (pr@pof.com), since my attempt to ‘reset’ the non-existent account’s non-existent password didn’t work, that was the only electronic contact method I could find after a good half hour of searching, and I couldn’t tell which of the various phone numbers and physical addresses I found were actually real and up to date.

(For the record? Not having your contact information clearly displayed on your home page, including a customer service email address to deal with complaints not covered by your unfeasibly minimal preset forms, is deeply skeevy.)

Anyway, the first round of forwarding won me nearly twelve hours without spam. Then I got another burst, forwarded them all (with a copypasted “I don’t have an account with your service. Stop sending me email” message appended), and have now been spam-free (…from that source) for nearly twenty-four hours.

I have doubtless jinxed myself just now, of course, but I trust if I make myself enough of a nuisance the POF staff will either fix the problem or just give up and block me, which should hopefully render me invisible to the spam-sending part of their email program. *crosses fingers*

(…I have also been marking every single one of their messages as a phishing attempt, which is untrue and probably wrong of me, but that is the only other weapon in my arsenal at the moment; of course I’m going to use it.)

The Murder Squash Song
ChainofProspit

Disclaimer: I have no idea how music, beats, or music software works. I recorded half of this on my phone and messed around for like four hours with some free mixing software and this was the closest semblance to “music” I could get. 

“THE MURDER SQUASH SONG”

SQUASH ONE, SQUASH TWO, SQUASH THREE, SQUASH FOUR - 
Pick up your baseball bat - Thwack! Whack! C’mon, more!
Craniums, watermelons, pumpkins, and gourds:
All of them SMASH when you throw ‘em on the floor!

SQUASH FIVE, SQUASH SIX, SQUASH SEVEN, SQUASH EIGHT!
Is it cantaloupe or brains all scooped out on your plate?
There’s nothing quite so smashing as a good and thorough thrashing, so -
Lay ‘em out! Crush a head! It’s not murder ‘til they’re DEAD!

SQUASH EIGHT, SQUASH SEVEN, SQUASH SIX, SQUASH FIVE - 
Nothing’s quite so boring as a person who’s alive!
Everyone likes party games, so hang piñatas – spill their brains!
Jack be noble, grab a stick; it’s a party, make ‘em sick!

SQUASH FOUR, SQUASH THREE, SQUASH TWO, SQUASH ONE!
Balloons popping; bodies dropping; have you ever had such fun?
Bang, squish, crack, crunch – squeeze some eyeballs in the punch!
Don’t get woozy, nothing’s wrong! It’s all part of the Murder Squash Song!

(credit to maggie-stiefvater for the opening lines)

anonymous asked:

please can you write a oneshot where harry forgets y/n’s birthday and is really mean to her and she gets a little upset but she doesn’t show it at all and just gets on with her day as usual because she’s used to people forgetting as her bday is feb 29th so its not usually celebrated but she is a bit deflated because she thought harry would remember and make it super special but then he finally realises and feels guilty so he makes it up to her! thank you :)

btw i wrote this whole one shot before, but then i hit refresh and it all got deleted and so yeah…. :/ here we go again.


He couldn’t have forgotten, right?

I mean, he was your boyfriend and he had promised he wouldn’t forget. Plus, on top of all that, he was Harry Styles, which adds a whole other list of expectations of it’s own.

It was February 29, also known as your birthday. How convenient it is that you were born on a day that only comes around every four years? And you had various conversations – the most recent one occurring on his birthday about the possibilities of your birthday being forgotten. All of which he had answered with a kiss, a smile, and a confident dose of never

But today was the day.

The day of your birth.

And he was having you cook for him.

“Are you sure you can’t take over?” You ask aloud. You had your eyes and mind set on not letting this omelette in front of you burn. “My hand is getting tired. So is my arm.”

Harry pops up at the doorway of the kitchen and holds up his phone and mouths, “Important call.”

What could be more important than your birthday? You think, then mentally slap yourself for thinking that. World hunger is more important than that, and Harry could be on the phone with UNICEF, for all you know.

But still, how could he forget? 

You look away from the pan for a second to check Twitter. Surely there must be some fans tweeting him. And to your surprise, #Y/Nsbday was trending. How could he have missed that? 

Woah, be careful,” Harry comes up behind you and presses a kiss to your neck. He glances briefly at your phone. “Whatcha looking at that you are willing to burn breakfast over?”

“Shit,” you let out as you drop your phone onto the counter and flip the omelette into a large plate waiting.

“Delicious,” he kisses you again before turning around to look for a pair of eating utensils. He doesn’t push the Twitter thing, and you wanted so badly to just tell him it was your big day, but you wanted him to remember on his own.

You try and prompt him, “There was just something trending on Twitter, that’s all.”

“Oh, don’t pay attention to those,” he grabs the plate from your hands. “They are almost always looking for attention.”

“But this one looked important,” you call after him as he leaves the kitchen.

He grins at you, “Unless it’s on a scale from fire-breathing-dragon-alive to cure-to-all-illnesses, I’m not interested.”

But it’s February 29, you whine mentally.

Now you know for sure he doesn’t know it’s your birthday.

He wouldn’t have stolen your breakfast omelette if he knew it was


The day went by frustratingly slow. 

You sat at home, alone, replying to your birthday DM’s and texts, whilst browsing Netflix. You couldn’t even go to work, because you had called in earlier this week to say that your boyfriend had big plans.

How could Harry forget?

As if on sync, your phone rings, and it’s Harry.

Could it be?

“Hello?” You answer, sitting up straighter.

“Hey kitten.” Harry sounded apologetic.

Could it be?

Could he have seen the date and realised?

But instead, he said, “Listen, management wants me to stay in later. Something about recording my voice when it’s hoarse. Is that okay? If you have something important, I’ll cancel and–”

“No, nothing important is happening today,” you slump back into your sofa crease. “You can stay to record. I’m fine with that. Have fun.”

Harry sighs, relieved. “You’re the best, did you know that? I love you.”

You have to keep your voice from shaking as you ask, “I just have one question, Haz.”

“What is it?”

You hesitate. The question was just sitting there, at the tip of your tongue. But you still choose to swallow it down. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Chinese would be nice.” You can practically feel him smiling against the phone. “Love you.”

“Yeah,” you murmur absent-mindedly. “Okay.” You hang up before he could say I love you one more time.

Shutting your phone off, you turn back to the television, to another episode of Gossip Girl. Eating your way through another chocolate box, you could see that Serena and Blair’s relationship drama was way worse than yours.

But still, at least neither of them had a rare birthday and a forgetful boyfriend. And, why didn’t you say those three words back? You have said it before, multiple times. But he promised he wouldn’t forget your birthday, and here he is, forgetting.


Sweet and sour pork and a whole two seasons of television later, you were ready for bed. 

But you couldn’t fall asleep. 

Today was supposed to be your big day. 

And you spent the whole day on your own. And still not one call from Harry, making it painfully clear to you that he does not remember at all.

You don’t know how long you have been lying in the dark, but it must’ve been pretty late, as you hear keys jiggling in the front door. You can picture Harry hanging his coat by the door, dropping his bag on the couch, and you can hear him enter the bedroom.

Shutting your eyes, you are quite sure he can’t see your wet cheeks in the dark. You feel him ease softly into the bed with you, stinking heavily of the humid air outside.

“Today is my birthday,” you whisper quietly.

You feel his muscles tense. And then he blurts out, “I’m so sorry, I forgot.”

“I know,” you murmur, tears leaking onto the pillow beneath your head. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” you can feel him rise, and then a second later, the lights snap on. You have no time to wipe your cheeks, and Harry sees your tears immediately. He freezes. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just tired,” you lie, quickly brushing them away. “It’s nothing. You’ll buy me a cake tomorrow.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. He paces at the foot of the bed, “I’m such a fucking idiot. I made you cry on your birthday. Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday? No, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. Dammit, why didn’t I remember? I swear, I…” His green eyes light up. “I have a present for you.”

You shift uncomfortably, “Harry, you don’t have to–”

“I’m not kidding,” he drags you out of bed. “I have a present for you. I bought it earlier this week. God, how could I have forgotten about it?”

You let him drag you all the way outside, then into his car. He doesn’t seem to notice or care that you are still in your pajamas. “Where at you taking me?” You ask, when he pulls onto the highway. “I’m not dressed for a party, you know.”

“It’s not a party,” Harry grips the steering wheel in one hand, and holds your hand in the other. “I’m so sorry I forgot. I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s–”

“If you say it’s fine one more time, I’m going to feel worse,” Harry snaps. Then he adds, softly, “I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s not fine. I’m a crap boyfriend. And it’s not fine.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and you watched the streetlights disappear one by one until Harry pulls off of the highway and onto an unfamiliar looking street.

“Where are we?” You ask. It was getting darker by the minute, and you check the dashboard to see that it was well over midnight. Hopefully you both wouldn’t have to walk anywhere in this darkness, or else you both would definitely get mugged.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” Harry reassures you, though he checks the rearview mirror multiple times. “Or, we will be safe.” He squeezes your hand tightly. “I promise you’ll like it. I hope you’ll like it.”

Like what?

What would possibly be waiting for you two in the dark?

But at that exact instant, Harry pulls up into the driveway of a big, white house. It’s windows were dark, and there was no sign suggesting that anyone had lived there. It was getting eerier by the second. “Harry–”

He shuts off the engine, turns to you and says, “Close your eyes.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What?”

“Close your eyes,” he repeats, smiling. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s just, it’s a surprise.”

What surprise could be waiting for you in there? 

You cross your arms over your chest, “You said there wasn’t going to be a party. I’m not dressed for that kind of occasion! Plus, I’m really tired and it’s really sketchy here.”

He laughs, “Just close your eyes, I promise everything will be fine.”

Against all odds, you let your eyelids sink to a close. He leads you out of the car, and down a long, rocky trail. You hear the sounds of a key jingle and you hear the sounds of a door opening.

Harry places his hands on your shoulders, and whispers, “Stay right here, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You barely manage a nod before he’s off, footsteps smothered by the soft carpeting underneath your slippers. Who owns this place? And what did he drive you two here for?

You hear something click on, and then light smacks against your closed eyelids. You are tempted to open your eyes, but then Harry’s hands are back on your shoulders, and he faces you towards him. He murmurs, “You can open them now.”

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, and you can see Harry’s face, clear as day. He’s smiling. “Turn around. I just wanted your eyes to adjust to the light, first. Go ahead, the surprise is right behind you.”

And when you turn around, there is nothing there. Just the inside of a beautiful home, the floor in front of you bare. You turn back to him and frown, “What am I supposed to be looking at? What’s your present?”

Harry stands beside you and smiles, pulling you into his arms, “This.” He gestures around you both. “This house. It’s our new home.”

Your jaw drops, and you spin to face him, “Harry, but….but we already have a home! A perfectly nice one! That’s not as expensive as this one looks to be!”

He chuckles, “But that house has no room for our kids.”

“Kids?” You repeat. 

Then your eyes bulge out of your head as you watch him sink down onto one knee. He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the key to this house, and a ring is attached to it. He smiles and says, “I’m so sorry I forgot your birthday. I hope this makes up for it.”

“Shut up, of course it does.”


it’s horrible and rushed asdfusdpf

Forbidden Documentary Footage Revealed
  • Recording begins promptly. Female subject, referred to as Housewife, stands in kitchen. Footage is estimated to have been recorded some time in the mid to late 90s based on appliances present in kitchen as well as style of kitchen
  • [NOTE] Kitchen is possibly ☆NSYNC themed
  • Housewife: What should I say?
  • Cameraman: Just tell me a bit about yourself.
  • Housewife: Oh, where do I start. My name is Jennifer Brackenberry. I'm 37 years old. Mother of two kids, and I'm happily divorced.
  • Subject, Housewife, laughs.
  • Housewife: Anything else you want to know?
  • Cameraman: What do you do?
  • Housewife: Well, like I mentioned before, I'm a full time mother. I'm also a bit of painter.
  • Cameraman: Oh, you paint? Interesting. Could you show me some of your paintings?
  • Housewife: Absolutely. Follow me.
  • Subject, Housewife, leads Cameraman to garage. Clown paintings, clown memorabilia, and other clown based products are abundant in house during walk to garage. Car is absent from garage. Housewife removes cloth from stack in corner of garage. Stack is revealed to be paintings. Camera zooms in on stack of paintings.
  • Housewife: This is where I keep my paintings. None of them are finished yet, so I haven't hung any up around the house yet.
  • Cameraman: You keep your unfinished paintings in a stack on the floor of your garage?
  • Housewife: Yes.
  • Cameraman: Kind of a haphazard way of storing painting.
  • Housewife: Yes, that's true. I'd keep them in my room, but the kids like to play in there and they're afraid of my paintings.
  • Cameraman: Ah?
  • Housewife: I like to keep them out of sight, but that doesn't mean I not proud of them. I just love my children more than I love art. I'll show you some, though.
  • Subject, Housewife, shows painting to cameraman. Painting is crude. Impossible to make out the nature or subject of the painting.
  • Cameraman: This is... interesting.
  • Housewife: It's my son as a decorative comedian. I bet you could tell from all the merchandise I have around my house that I'm a bit of a fan of decorative comedians.
  • Cameraman: You mean all the clown stuff?
  • Housewife: I think that term is a bit outdated, but yes all of the... clown stuff. I'd prefer if you use decorative comedian, or harlequin. Whatever suits your fancy.
  • Cameraman: Sure. Didn't mean to offend.
  • Subject, Housewife, shows another painting to cameraman. Painting is entirely brown.
  • Housewife: This is my daughter as a decorative comedienne. I think I overdid the cuteness on this one. Not that my daughter isn't cute. I'm just trying to go for a more realistic style. Like Mozart, or Bach.
  • Cameraman: I see.
  • Subject, Housewife, continues to show and describe paintings to cameraman for 5 minutes. Most paintings are blocks of a single color, or crude and childlike. None of the paintings match the descriptions given by housewife. Based on answers to questions asked by Cameraman, Housewife has rudimentary knowledge of painting techniques, and the history of painting as an artform. Housewife at one point mentions using Sharpie brand markers as painting tools. Housewife refers to composers, Mozart and Bach, as "Classical Harlequin Painters" several times. Attention is taken away from paintings as telephone rings.
  • Housewife: Excuse me while I go answer that.
  • Cameraman follows housewife into the living room as she answers the phone. Camera zooms in on life-sized clown statue in the middle of living room.
  • Housewife: Mmm hmm. Yes. I see. Okay, I'll come over immediately.
  • Subject, Housewife, ends phone call.
  • Housewife: I have to run out real quick, David. You can stay here, though. I'll be back in a minute.
  • Cameraman: I can come with you if it's not a problem.
  • Housewife: It is a problem. Just stay here. It'll be like 10 minutes at most, I swear.
  • Cameraman: Sure.
  • Recording immediately cuts to later footage. Lights are on in living room.
  • Cameraman: Okay, so it has been like 3 hours since Jennifer left. I have no clue what she's doing or where she went. But, I had to start recording this because it's fucking nuts.
  • Cameraman moves to look out window. It's nighttime. Heavy snowfall is present.
  • Cameraman: That is at least a foot of fucking snow out there. It has only been an hour since it started snowing. Did I mention it's the middle of July? I drove up here sweating my balls off because it was like a hundred fucking degrees out. Now it's snowing. Global warming my ass.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Cameraman is sat at kitchen table. However, only Cameraman's chest and arms are visible.
  • Cameraman: Okay, so it's 11PM now. Jennifer left at like 4PM and isn't back yet. I can't blame her, I guess. The snow is up to the windows now. It doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon either. TV doesn't work. Phone doesn't work. I'm bored as fuck to be honest. I'd say the clowns, excuse me I meant Decorative Comedians or Harlequins, creep me out, but they don't. I don't see what everyone sees in them. They're stupid as hell to me. Besides, I'm a big guy and I could beat the shit out of an evil clown or two.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Seems to be taken from bedroom.
  • Cameraman: Okay, so the power went out. I'm freezing my balls off in here.
  • Cameraman breathes heavily to show off condensation.
  • Cameraman: See that. This is ridiculous.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Large male individual, presumably cameraman, attempts to break down the front door of the house. Footage is taken from a low angle. Cameraman possibly not aware that he is being recorded. Camera backs away from the cameraman, turns around and moves beneath a couch.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Cameraman is sat at table. Only chest and arms are visible.
  • Cameraman: Okay, so all of the fucking doors in the place are blocked off by snow. I can't get out. I tried breaking a window to see if I could dig myself out too, but that snow is literally like brick hard. House is basically surrounded by a giant ice block. This has to be some kind of natural disaster or apocalyptic shit. I'm trying to keep my cool, no pun intended, but it's kinda hard when it's dark as shit, cold as shit, and you're a little claustrophobic. None of the clowns have moved yet so at least I know I'm not in some shitty horror movie.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Cameraman is filming in garage. Car is present in garage.
  • Cameraman: Okay, so that's Jennifer's car. That car should not be in this garage. When I drove here yesterday it was parked in front of the house. When I went into the garage yesterday, it definitely wasn't here. I got it all on camera so I know I'm not crazy. I don't know, maybe Jennifer put her car in the garage some time yesterday and I didn't notice? This shouldn't be bothering me as much as it should. It's mundane as fuck when there's a goddamn ice cube of death keeping me trapped in this house. I just don't know what to make of this shit.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Camera is focused on ringing phone.
  • Cameraman: The electricity is out all over the house. Nothing works, but the phone is ringing. Now, I know some weird shit is going on for sure, but I'm not fucking stupid. I'm not gonna answer it. I don't know who is calling it. It could be satan, or my dead grandma. I'm not answering that shit.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Camera is focused on ringing phone.
  • Cameraman: The phone's been ringing all night, and I can't sleep. When I try to sleep it just gets louder. It's driving me fucking nuts. Whatever force or entity is behind this wants me to answer this phone. So, you know what I'm gonna do?
  • Cameraman shows hammer to camera.
  • Cameraman: I'm gonna fucking smash it.
  • Cameraman proceeds to destroy the phone with hammer. Phone falls to ground and Cameraman stomps on the remains of phone. Ringing ceases immediately.
  • Cameraman: Finally.
  • Ringing, though heavily distorted, starts again.
  • Cameraman: Goddam-
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Footage is completely silent. Large male, presumably cameraman, looks through stack of paintings in garage. Cameraman is carrying flashlight. Cameraman seems to go into a rage and begins violently tosses paintings.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is in nightvision. Cameraman is sat at table. Only Camerman's chest and arms are visible. Distorted telephone ringing can be heard.
  • Cameraman: Look at this.
  • Cameraman places painting in front of camera. Only bottom half of painting can be seem. Painting seems to depict smiling clown.
  • Cameraman: That's me as a fucking clown. In fact, all of the paintings in the garage are of me as a clown. I saw all of thsse paintings before. They were garbage. Absolute shit. I know what I fucking saw. I don't know who or what is behind this, but you're not cute. You're not clever. You're not scary. You cannot break me.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is of bedroom. Footage is taken during daytime. Camera is shaky. Distorted telephone ringing can be heard
  • Cameraman: Ice is gone. Windows are broken. There's nothing but white outside. It's so cold.
  • Recording cuts to later footage. Footage is silent. Footage is recorded from low angle. Large male, presumably cameraman, can be seen dousing clown statue in liquid. Paintings sit at the feet of the clown statue. Cameraman sets clown statue aflame with match. Clown statue begins to move in panic. Cameraman runs away as the seemingly living clown statue burns.
  • Recording cuts to stock footage of houses burning. Stock footage continues for 5 minutes before cutting to footage taken from car in garage. Footage is in nightvision. Camera is placed on dashboard of car. Cameraman is presumably sat in driver's seat. Distorted ringing can be heard.
  • Cameraman: Long story short, that clown statue wasn't a statue at all. I was gonna burn it for some heat and I found out that apparently it had been living this entire time. Dude burned to death. Fire got everywhere, and half the house burned down. The garage is fine, and lo and behold Jennifer's car works. It's nice to finally have some heat. I feel like things could actually turn around for me now. It's completely barren outside. I was in a suburban neighborhood when I first got here and apparently now I'm in some arctic wasteland. I'm still going to try to drive out of this place, though. What do I have to lose?
  • The garage doors raise revealing a block of ice obstructing the entire garage exit. Distorted phone ringing increases in volume
  • Cameraman: No, no, no, no! You have to be fucking kidding me!
  • Cameraman takes camera with him as he attempts to leave through door which leads back into the house. Door's pathway is obstructed by large block of ice.
  • Cameraman: What do you fucking want from!? What have I done!? Do you want me to fucking die!? Then just kill me! I give up! I'm fucking finished! Just fucking kill me!
  • Sound cuts out as Cameraman repeatedly smashes camera against floor. Recording cuts to what seems to be earlier footage. Subject, Housewife, is sat across from Cameraman. Footage filmed in restaurant or cafe.
  • Housewife: So, Davey.
  • Cameraman: Please, don't call me that. We aren't kids anymore.
  • Housewife: Okay, David. I know you're supposed to be the one asking the questions, but I just have to know. Why do you want film a day in my life?
  • Cameraman: Good question. I-
  • Recording abruptly ends. Recording was found in a topic posted on 4chan's /ck/ message board entitled "Post Your Favorite Deep Web Videos That Make You Kek". Topic was swiftly deleted for being considered "off-topic". No other information on the recording is available.
  • Thank you for reading.

i miraculously had a Good Day without really writing anything (i probably need a break tbh, i wrote and i wrote and i wrote this week, and of course nothing is finished, because i’m me, but that’s still more writing i’ve done on top of working since april, and my head is just kind of Empty now). the internet in the salon was shit, so i was stuck with the files on my phone, comprising entirely of nine inch nails remixes…

and the hour of voice recordings i made on a walk in the spring, about what is coincidentally now my fucking july nano. holy shit. A LOT OF IT IS STILL GOOD. there were things i totally forgot about, and it made me super happy that that’s a method of note taking that actually works for me. i would have never written all of that shit down, but now i have it \o/

so i’ve worked through my denial and accepted there won’t be any angst war submissions for me today because the goal is not to stress myself til i wreck myself goddamn, but Good Shit happened this week, and i look forward to reaping the rewards of putting myself out there for prompts in the first place. i like having a soft word count goal for july instead of the write-50k-in-a-month thing, because it means i can start picking now and work on finishing these prompts–aka july won’t feel like starting cold turkey and be all the more terrifying.

ok then people! so, despite having attempted multiple ways to transfer my original cover from my phone to my mac, nothing has worked so I’ve decided that for the time being I’m going to stick to recording snippets of my playing guitar instead. i want to hopefully upload a few by the end of this evening n am currently in the process of transferring the first video so watch this space!

Oblivious (Bucky x Reader)

Originally posted by enochianess

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Summary: Bucky and Reader are best friends, they live together. Reader is totally oblivious that Bucky is in love with her
Warning:
cursing, mentions of sex


You lazily opened your eyes. Your body was stiff cause of Bucky’s weight on you.

His head was on your chest and both of his hands were on your side, it was a nice feeling. You observed him for a few minutes stroking his hair with your hands. He sighed contentedly and you smiled.

“Hey, Buck I can’t breathe”

Keep reading

My Conversion Story

I’ve been Catholic for a little over five years now, and yet I still find myself very hesitant to tell my conversion story. It is a very personal thing, and (shamefully) I am always afraid of what others will think of me. The way God speaks to one person is not always the way he speaks to others; and what seems like a message from God to me, may seem inconsequential to others.

I will try to keep this short, because it can get somewhat complicated.

I grew up going to a lovely United Methodist church from kindergarten through to my senior year of high school. I essentially lived, breathed, and laughed with this community. My best friends were here, I was either attending or leading events up to four times a week. This was my life. I am so thankful for my upbringing because I would not be the person I am without it. It planted and grew my faith, and has given me a unique insight into Protestantism that many Catholics don’t have. I have so much love for our separated brethren.

In high school, I had a dear friend who was Catholic. We would always argue about our faith (in a good-natured way) and on the bus to graduation our senior year, we made a deal that we would go to each others churches. Needless to say, we graduated and that didn’t happen, at least not at first.

You see, at this time my life was in a little bit of an upheaval. I was getting ready to leave everything to go to college in Boston (I’m a Floridian) and things at home were changing too. It was a very emotional time in my life. Later that summer, perhaps two months after graduation, I was driving home one night and all of a sudden remembered the deal I’d made with my Catholic friend. (I’m really not the kind of person to just call up someone out of the blue, but I just did it without thinking.) I asked when he went to Church and that Sunday attended my first mass.

It wasn’t some magical-angels-come-down-from-heaven0touched-by-an-angel thing. I only participated as much as I felt comfortable, and I had a lot of questions, but there was definitely something there, some spark that made me want to know more. Never in a million years did I ever believe that I would become a Catholic. So I spent the next two weeks praying harder than I’ve ever prayed before and doing as much research as I possibly could.

With this research I began realizing that a lot of what the Catholic Church taught, I already believed, and that the things I thought I disagreed with, I had misunderstood. This, however, was still not enough for me to make a decision. I did not trust my own judgement. There was so much going on at the time, that I didn’t want there to be any doubt that I was converting for any other reason than that I had found the truth. I didn’t want to convert because I was running away from something.

This was a very long two weeks for me. I had trouble sleeping and spent a lot of time in prayer. Leaving behind a whole faith community was not a light-hearted decision for me. I didn’t know what my life-long friends would think of me and I knew that if I did convert, it would be a lonely road for me. No one in my family is Catholic, and I only had one Catholic friend.Yes, I was leaving to embark on my new college experience, but I wasn’t looking forward to changing my home life either.

This is where things get a little weird. One of my biggest stumbling blocks to the Catholic faith was the saints. I understood that praying to them was simply like asking a friend to pray for me, but I still wasn’t so sure about it. I knew that no matter how much I researched, it would not be enough to convince me. That night I opened my heart up to God and very bluntly told him, “I will not convert to Catholicism unless you tell me to; if all this saint baloney is real, you better send me one.”

Let me preface this by saying that I knew almost nothing about individual saints. I knew about St. Francis of Assisi and St. Cecelia and that was it. I am also a very vivid dreamer, but after my prayer that night I went to sleep and had the strangest “dream.” It was completely dark and there were no images, just a voice, once I can’t even describe, that said “St. Anthony, patron saint of peace.” I remember in my sleep thinking, “you have to remember this, Sarah, it’s important.”

When I woke up, all I thought was, “okay, that was kind of weird,” and did a quick google-search of St. Anthony and found St. Anthony of Padua. I read a quick bio of him, and really nothing stood out. Yes, he was a peacemaker, but aren’t all saints patrons of peace? Needless to say I wasn’t convinced, so I left for work thinking nothing of it.

Things get a little confusing at this point because you have to go back a little ways in time. Earlier in the summer, before any serious consideration of Catholicism had ever entered my mind, I went to Boston for my college orientation. It was a Catholic school (really only as much as you wanted it to be and I had already reached out to a few Protestant churches to check out for once I moved), but there are statues of saints around.

There was one statue that I thought was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen in my life. It was of a man holding a book, and on top of that book was a baby standing on the book touching his cheek. I thought it was dumb and hilarious and called it the “pop-up book statue.” You can even ask my college roommate who was there with me at the time, I had no Catholic leanings or knowledge of who this statue was of. There is no inscription naming the saint, and really, I doubt more than a handful of people at my college knew who the statue was of either. The point of this is that I thought it was so funny, I took a picture of it (on my flip phone, I know) and set it as my phone’s wallpaper, where it stayed all summer. I even asked my Catholic friend who the statue was of before my dream or anything happened and he told me he thought it was St. Joseph, so I assumed it was St. Joseph.

Back to the day of my dream. I go to work, thinking nothing of it. I come home and begin journaling about the dream and how, yeah it was weird, but nothing conversion worthy, when all of a sudden it hits me. (I am very fortunate to have this moment recorded in my actual journal, it is such a blessing for me to go back and read the moment I put it all together.) I continue writing, but everything changes direction and I write something to the effect of “I think that the picture on my phone, the one I’ve been making fun of for over a month is not of St. Joseph, I think that it is of St. Anthony of Padua.” So I race to grab my phone, sit at the computer, and type in “statues of St. Anthony,” and sure enough pictures of statues matching the picture on my phone fill the screen. I begin to shake and finally say “Okay, God. If you say so, I believe you.”

I know that it seems silly. A picture on a cell-phone working as my own personal miracle, but I know that this is what it was for me. I was right, my journey into the church was lonely and still continues to be lonely most times, but my faith has matured and deepened in a way I can’t even describe.

I was fully received into the Catholic Church Easter Vigil of 2010 and have never looked back.

If you have any questions, I’d love to answer them!

Xo
Sarah

  • interviewer: "yo iggy give us a freestyle"
  • iggy: "..."
  • iggy: "Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?"
Five Nights at Freddy's Phone Log

RECORDINGS: NIGHT 1

“Hello? Heeeeloooo! Uhhh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Umm., I actually worked in that office before you. I’m…finishing up my last week now as a matter of fact so…I know it can be a little overwhelming, but i’m here to tell you: there’s nothing to worry about, uhh, you’ll do fine! So…let’s just focus on getting you through your first week. Ok?

Uh…let’s see. First there’s an introductory greeting from the company i’m supposed to read. Eeh it’s kind of a legal thing, you know. ‘Welcome to Freddy Fazzbear’s Pizza: a magical place where kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazzbear entertainment is not responsible for damage, property or person. Upon the discovery of the damage or death of the third, a missing person’s report will be filled within ninety days or as soon as property and premise have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached and the carpets have been replaced. Blah, blah, blah.’

Now that might seem bad, I know, there’s really nothing to worry about.

Uhh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No! If I were force to sing…those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So remember: these characters hold a special place in the heart of children. You need to show them a little respect. Right? Ok.

So just be aware: the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uhh, they’re left with some kind of ‘free-roaming mode’ at night. Uhhh…something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uhh…they used to wander during the day too, but then there was the bite of eighty seven. Yeah…i-it’s amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, ya know?

Now concerning you’re safety: the only real risk to you as the night watchmen here, if any, is the fact that these characters…uhh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won’t recognize you as a person. They’ll-they’ll most likely see you as a metal endo-skeleton without its’ costume on. Now, since that’s against the rules at Freddy Fazzbear’s Pizza, They’ll probably try ta…forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazzbear suit. Umm, now that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits themselves weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area, so you can imagine how having your head forced inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort…and death. Uhh…the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth would pop out the front of the mask. …Yeah they don’t tell you these things when you sign up…

But hey! First day should be a breeze, i’ll chat with you tomorrow, uhh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power.

Alright. Goodnight.”

RECORDINGS: NIGHT 2

“Err, hello! Hello? Uhh… well, if you’re hearing this, you made it to day two. Uhh, congrats!

I-I won’t talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Umm…you might need to go ahead and peak at those cameras while I talk; just to make sure everyone is in their proper place, ya know?

Uhh, interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn’t come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark ,though, sooo hey, I guess that’s another reason not to run out of power, right?

I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights: uhh, there are blind-spots in your camera views and the blind spots happen to be right outside your door, so if you can’t find something, or someone on your cameras, be sure to check the door-lights. Uhh, you might have only a few seconds to react, but…not that you would be in any danger of course, i’m not implying that.

Also: check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time; the character in their seems unique in that it becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn’t like being watched. I don’t know.

Anyway, i’m sure you have everything under control. Uhh…talk to you soon!”

RECORDINGS: NIGHT 3

“Hello, hello! Hey, you’re doing great! Most people don’t last this long! I mean, ya know, the-they usually move on to other things by now…i’m not implying that they died. Tha-that-that’s not what I meant… Uhh, anyway, I better not take up too much of your time, uhh, things starting getting real tonight.

Uh, h-hey listen, I had an idea: If you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead. Ya know: go limp. Uhh, maybe they’ll think you’re an empty costume instead. Then again, if they think you’re an empty costume, they might try ta…stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work…

…yeeeah never mind; scratch that, it’s best just to not get caught.

Umm, well, ok. I-I’ll leave you to it. See you on the flip side.”

RECORDINGS: NIGHT 4

“Hello, hello! Hey! Hey wow, day four…I knew you could do it.

Hey, listen….I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow (Freddy bangs on powerlocked doors). It’s-It’s been a bad night here. For me. Umm…I-I’m kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you… ahem er, when I did.

H-hey, do me a favor: maybe sometime, eh, you could check inside those suits, in-in the back room? I’ma try to hold out…until someone…checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad. I-I-I always wondered what was in those empty heads…back there- (Freddy’s music begins to play. The one he plays when you run out of power)

Oh no…

(Guard is assaulted by an animatron. Presumably Freddy)

RECORDINGS: NIGHT 5

SLOWED DOWN, REVERSED HUMAN SPEECH (Presumably an animatron’s voice. Could be altered beyond just slowing and reversal.)

Your Child Misses Him (Mashton)

Your Child Misses Him (Mashton) (Cake will be posted sometime soon)

Michael: Your 10 month old daughter, Amelia wouldn’t sleep, she had gotten barely any sleep since Michael had left for tour a few weeks, she would cry and cry until she wailed so much, she fell asleep.

You picked her up and sat in the rocking chair, rocking her back and forth continuously, trying to calm her down. Amelia’s face was bright red and soaked with tears. You didn’t know what to do, you needed Michael, he could always get her to sleep. It was as if his hands were magic, as soon as she was in his arms she would pass out. You needed Michael, you were beginning to cry yourself.

It was nearly midnight, and Amelia still wasn’t asleep. 

“Amelia, please go to sleep,” you whispered begging her to calm down. You were still crying yourself. You were tired and frustrated and utterly defeated, Amelia wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon, and neither were you. She made sure of it. 

You tried everything, from pacing up and down the hallway, to placing her in the swing, nothing was working. You even tried driving around the neighborhood. Nothing was working. 

“Amelia, please just close your eyes, baby. I know you want to sleep,” You held her close, tears continuing to fall from your own cheeks. There was nothing you could do, and she knew that, so Amelia continued to scream and cry.

Then your phone started ringing, it was the familiar ringtone for Michael, he had recorded himself singing ‘Wherever You Are’ and set it as your ringtone for when he called. Amelia stopped crying and listened carefully. Her tears started to disappear as Michael’s voice rang through the phone.

“I have never missed your voice so much in my life,” You answered the phone.

“What’s the matter love bug?” Michael asked, he could tell you had been crying. Amelia began to whimper, and you decided to put him on speaker so she could hear his as well.

“She won’t stop crying, Michael, she’s been crying her eyes out since about 8. I’m so frustrated, I’ve literally tried everything.”

“It sounds like she’s stopped now, love bug. It’ll be okay.” Michael spoke quietly. As if he didn’t want to wake her.

“It’s as if she’s mesmerized by your voice. Keep talking please.” I begged.

“Hi little baby,” he cooed into the phone, “How’s my little Meela? Does my baby girl miss her daddy?”Amelia began to grab towards the phone.

“Da da,” she said. “Da da, da da” 

Your eyes grew wide, “Michael her first word was da da!” you exclaimed into the phone. Excitement bled through your words.

“Aw my little Meela does miss me,” Michael said, “I’ll be home soon, daddy will be there soon. I promise.”

Ashton: You and Ashton’s daughter Spencer was nearly 3 and a half. She was definitely a daddy’s girl. Ever since Ashton had left for tour you could tell she was different.

She seemed sort of lost, not exactly herself. Every morning she’d get up with a huge smile on her face, asking if daddy was home today. And every morning she’d go back to her room with a pout when she found out he wasn’t home yet.

Every night when she skyped with Ashton before she went to sleep, she’d tell him to come home because she misses him a lot.

3 months into the tour and you knew Ashton would get a week break and he’d be home. But you decided not to tell Spencer. A surprise would make it all worth while.

“Daddy I miss you,” Spencer whimpered into the phone one night before bed.

“Aw Spence, daddy misses you more. You’ve gotten so big I can tell!” Ash said making a silly face to the camera.

“Daddy this is serious, you can’t make fun of me.” Spencer was really upset that Ash had made it seem like a joke to her.

“Spence, I’m not making fun of you baby girl. I miss you so much my heart hurts when I think about it, baby.”

“Good because my heart hurts more because, I miss you more.” She smiled. “I miss you more than you miss me!” She giggled.

“No one can miss someone as much as I miss you that’s a fact.” She giggled again, and Ashton giggled back. Spencer and him shared the same laugh, the same curly blonde hair, and most definitely the same eyes. 

What Spencer didn’t know was that Ashton was on his way home and would be back when she woke up the next morning.

“G’night daddy, I love you!” She smiled, rubbing her eyes. She was ready for bed. After I said my good nights to Ashton. I went to Spencer’s room to tuck her in, she had already fallen asleep among her vast collection of stuffed animals.

“Good night, Spence,” You whispered kissing her on the forehead before tucking her in.

“Y/N, are you awake?” A familiar voice awoke you from your sleep.

“Ashton!” You looked up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I tried to stay up for you, but I was exhausted.” You mumbled into his neck, as he lifted you from the couch, carrying to to your bed. He stripped into his underwear and cuddled up next to you falling asleep almost instantly.

“DADDY YOU’RE HOME!!!!” Spencer woke the both of you up by bouncing onto your shared bed. She made her way tangling herself in between Ashton’s arms cuddling up against his chest.

“I missed you so much baby girl, you’ve gotten so big!” He exclaimed holding her close kissing her cheeks, nose and forehead.

I’m in need of serious financial aid--please signal boost this

As these things often start out, I never thought I was going to have to resort to this, nor do I want to. I don’t like asking for help, and I especially don’t like asking or money but, at this point, I no longer feel that I have another option. My name is Ellie, I’m 24, epileptic, and I just moved out of my family home and across the country to another state at the start of 2016. I work a well-known grocery/marketplace chain and make just enough to pay for what my necessities consisted of prior to last weekend, meaning bills and rent and car payments/insurance, and my phone–all of which adds up to $551 per month, and does not include other basic necessities such as food and gas. 

I was doing okay until about a week ago when, lo and behold, someone broke into my car. I reported it to the police and the complex has a video recording of it, but nothing is going to come out of it. They broke the passenger-side rear vent window which I learned, after speaking to my insurance agent, is going to cost upwards of $300 to fix. My deductible is $250, and while that is considered more than adequate coverage, it is $250 that I don’t have on top of all of my other monthly expenses. On top of that, I recently had to visit a neurologist to ensure that they would continue prescribing my epilepsy medication. All we did was sit down and talk about my epilepsy and history with seizures for 20, maybe 30, minutes, and now–three weeks later and exactly one week after my car was broken into--I have been charged $417. My insurance is covering $132.27 of it, but that still leaves me with a bill of $283.73 which, with my car, adds up to $533.73. With all of my regular monthly bills, it all adds up to over $1000 which I cannot currently afford.

I am also currently in the process of trying to register myself as a legal resident of Ohio, as I just moved, so that I may apply for better health insurance–health insurance that will not charge me over $400 for nothing more than sitting and talking to a doctor. The problem here is that registering to become a resident may cost up to $105, so even that is currently out of the question.

For all of these reasons, I’m reaching out to you and asking for donations of any kind, even if you can only afford to donate a couple of dollars–or even just one dollar. Every little bit helps and I will be extremely grateful to anyone who wants to help. My paypal is sheeba261@comcast.net. If you are unable to donate, thank you for reading this, and I ask only that you please, please, please reblog and signal boost this to the rest of your followers.