one day your time will come


                       Happy  Birthday  Minseok!

The time has come! It midnight in Korea so that means that 27 years ago you came on this world and brought happiness to so many. Since young your love for music and performing on stage was very strong, you knew that one day you will shine on stage just like your idols, TVQX, the ones that made it so clear that the only path in life you want to take was singing. The path was full of obstacles, but you managed to pass them and in the end you finally was able to fulfill your dream and debut as Ximin of EXO! It was a rough start, you had to deal with a lot of hate, but it didn’t bring you down, it made you stronger~ And now, as you turn 27 years old, I am seeing the best version of yourself. You are stronger than ever, full of confidence, your skills are getting better with each day and your passion is as strong as ever! I hope you will spend many more birthdays with us, both as Kim Minseok, the man, as well as Xiumin, the perfect idol! Love you ! 민석아생일축하해

It doesn’t look that painful

For Laur’s @dancingalone21 Funny Quote AU Challenge 

Quote: “Man! I’m freaking velvety smooth!

Pairing: Mechanic Dean! X Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Your boyfriend Dean is a tough guy mechanic and comes home one day while you’re waxing your legs and a challenge presents itself.

A/N: This is my first real time posting. Constructive comments are welcome! Hope you enjoy!

“Baby I’m home!” Dean calls out as he enters the apartment hanging his leather jacket up by the door. “Baby? Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom baby!” You call back to him. You hear the clomping of Dean’s boot on the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Y/n, what do you want to to do for dinner tonig..What the hell do you have on your legs?” exclaims Dean.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What tattoos does Gavriel have, I can't remember? You seem like the right person to ask since Gavriel is yours 😉

Best anon of the year award goes to….
One of the best questions I’ve ever received, my lord. In HoF Gavriel comes to Mistward to have Rowan ink him, like Rowan inked his own face after Lydia’s death, in honor of the brethren he lost in some battle. It’s probably not the first time he’s done this, since Rowan doesn’t question why he’s here and he just grabs what he needs like it’s nothing. But that day Gavriel got tattoos on his left pectoral, ribs, and hip (pg. 274 of HoF) and I swear to god….yes Rowan’s face tattoos are hard core. But Gavriel has NECK tattoos. Like a choker, but made of tattoos.



Being Tony Stark’s daughter and a very outspoken activist. One day you get arrested and your father comes to bail you out.

 ••• Requested by @purplekitten30 •••

“They didn’t even say which precinct they were taking us to until we arrived here, you know.” 

Your hands were draped over the bars of the holding cell and a unsure smile graced your lips as an officer came up to let you out, your father in tow. This was the first time you had gotten yourself arrested at one of the march’s you loved taking part of, and you weren’t at all sure how your father was going to take it. 

He didn’t say anything as you stepped out from behind the bars with piece of paper clutched firmly in your hand, your cell mates numbers scribbled down across it. Your hands shook as your father took hold of your upper arm and guided you out of the precinct, exchanging a few words with an officer before the two of you found yourself on the street, waiting for your car to be brought around.  

It wasn’t until you were in the passengers seat beside your father when a blinding grin crossed his lips. 

“Well, aren’t you a little rebel.” He said, beaming. Leaning over, he wrapped you in a tight hug and relief rushed over you. “Next time, make sure you have a get away driver.”

In Your Head- Part 10

Jughead Jones x Reader

Reader: Y/N

Brother: Y/B/N

Word Count: 2,508

Summary: You are almost 3 months into a relationship with Jughead Jones. You are going through a tough time being too much in your head as the anniversary of “that night” comes closer. Jughead can sense something is wrong.

Warnings: Features sexual content, as well as a rape flashback and parental abuse. Please don’t read if easily triggered. This one is more smutty than usual.

The rest of the week had slowly gone by. Which included Jughead checking up on you a little more but making sure he wasn’t over hovering. Your week remained more typical - you avoiding your mom, making sure your brother had everything he needed and being home early every day. Chuck had left you alone at school, you were pretty sure he figured out that you had told Jughead at the very least by now. You were just looking forward to Friday and that’s the only goal you had set in mind.

You woke up that morning as usual and before jumping into the shower you decided to check on your bruises. Almost all of them had healed, just slight yellowish brown spots remained in some areas - no longer purple or blue.

T-minus two hours and your parents would be gone for the airport. A sense of relief was slowly filling your head. You kept getting ready for school.

“Hey love”, once again Jughead had greeted you off the bus. And with an overwhelming feeling coming over you, you grabbed his face and kissed him deeply.

A large smile appeared on his face, “what was that for?”, he gave a smirk.

“Just excited about the next two days. I just have to get my brother from school and then make sure he has everything for his friends house”, your mind was clearing away the daily anxieties that normally filled your brain. Your focus just landing on Jughead.

“Can I come with you?”, he asked because he had only been in your house once.

“Of course. I would love that. And my brother likes you from the few times you’ve guys met”. Your mind was just filled with glee. You once again kissed Jughead, feeling like it was only the two of you in front of the building.

He smiled again. You began to walk to your locker hand in hand with Jughead until your shoulder was pushed from behind you. You gave a slight grunt of pain and saw Reggie laughing. “Hey Y/N, really making a name for yourself nowadays huh”, he gave another chuckle.

Jughead glared at him and you could see his body tense up.

You intervened, “Just leave me alone Reggie, go focus on class or something. Lord knows you need to”, you gave a slight sneer. Jughead gave a smile.

“Yeah whatever slut”, you were starting to fume as Reggie walked away. And before he could shift in front of you, you grabbed Jughead’s arm.

“Hey!”, he looked back to you, “the next two days are going to be great, so let’s just focus on that okay?”.

Jughead’s anger had dissipated, you let go of his arm. His hand went back to intertwine with yours. “Alright”.

On your way outside for lunch, you decided to look at your phone. “Hey, our flight is about to board. Call sometime tonight”. It was from your dad and you just felt relief knowing that she was out of the state.

You made your way to the lunch table where everyone was already sitting. Your eyes just on Jughead. “Hey”, you gave a kiss to his lips as you were about to sit down. Both of you couldn’t stop smiling at each other.

“Well someone’s having a good day”, Kevin looked at both you and Jughead.

“Yes. I am”, you gave your comment with certainty.

The gangs conversations once again traveled through the table. How Moose was still avoiding Kevin, how Polly’s pregnancy was going and how Betty and her finally shopped for some baby clothes together, to once again Archie talking about his music. Archie kept staring at Jughead as it seemed that Jughead’s normal demeanor of being uninterested had been gone by focusing just on you.

He slightly rubbed your thigh back and forth under the table and you couldn’t stop smiling back at him.

The final bell had rung and Jughead joined you on the bus. Instead of reading a book, you sat there conversing with Jughead about what you should have for dinner. You once again looked at your phone, “We landed”. You gave a smile back to Jughead.

“They’re officially in a different state now”, your words were prideful. Jughead dived in for a kiss. The bus made a stop and you both got off heading towards your brother’s middle school. “So where does Mr. Andrews think you’re going to be?”

He gave a slight chuckle. “I think it helps that I’m not ACTUALLY his kid so he’s fine with me being wherever for a few nights as long as I’m in an actual bed”.

“Well we’ll see about the bed”, you gave a wink that felt a little silly and laughed.

The bell for the middle school rang and a few moments later you were greeted by your brother.

“Hey Jughead!”, your brother seemed happy to greet him. 

“Hey Y/B/N. Long time no see”, Jughead started talking to your brother about school and what he liked and didn’t like about it. They were getting along as friends it seemed.  

You had made it to your house, and unlike the times that it had seem gloom full and daunting, now it seemed like a place you were actually excited to enter. As usual, you went through the garage leading into the house. Jughead had only seen the entry area before. It wasn’t large, or a mansion like Cheryl Blossoms for that matter, but that day it actually seemed like a home to you.

“Go take a shower and get your stuff ready and we’ll walk down the street, okay”? Your brother gave a nod taking his school bag upstairs. 

Jughead and you were left downstairs for at least a little bit. He grabbed your waist from behind. 

“So this is it huh?”. He looked up and around peering into the living room from the kitchen. 

“Well the downstairs, yes”, you turned and put your arms over his neck. He dived in for a kiss. This was your weekend and nothing could ruin it.

“So did we decide on something for dinner? You really don’t have to cook…”, Jughead was looking a little around the kitchen. 

“I like cooking. It calms me ”, you slightly crossed your arms in taunt. 

“Is there a reason you need to be calm today?”, Jughead was being playful. 

“Ha funny. No, it’s more that it just gets me out of my head. Besides, don’t green chili enchiladas sound good?”, you were being coy once again. 

“Well I haven’t have anything from you I haven’t liked”, he pulled you close again and gave a slight peck on your lips. 

Your brother came down in new clothes and a wet towel wiping his head. “Hey, I’ll be ready in a few”. “Alright. Can you do your homework Sunday or is there too much of it?”, there was your sisterly love again. 

“I have to read a couple chapters of a book, so I’ll bring that with me but otherwise yeah”, he was grabbing a water from the kitchen now. 

“What book?”, that was easily your peak of interest.

Your brother gave a slight smirk, knowing reading was pretty much your life. “We have to do a report on our own choice for a book so I’m doing “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. 

“….did you take my complete series?”, you knew that was the only copy in the house. Jughead gave out a slight chuckle as it seemed neither of you had remembered he was there. 

“Yeah but I didn’t think you’d mind”, he gave a slight sigh. 

“It’s fine Bud but just remember I want…” 

“It back the way I got it” both your brother and Jughead said this at the same time. 

Jughead turned to you, “nice to know you give the same rules to family”. He gave you a slight tickle and your brother gave a small laugh. 

“You ready?“, you were ready to change the subject out of annoyance. 

“Yeah, let me grab my bag”, your brother went back upstairs for a minute before coming back down ready for the walk. 

You came back through the garage from walking your brother to his friends house, Jughead in hand. Upon opening the door, Jughead started to kiss your neck. You gave a slight chuckle from the tickle of his chin, “come on”. 

He released your hand while you put your coat on the couch. “Let me get my stuff”, as he grabbed his school bag, he took off his coat and he followed you up the stairs. 

You drifted left down the short hallway and opened up your door. Jughead paused slightly from holding your hips and began to look around the room. You had two bookshelves filled with every book you loved, posters around the room that included quotes from authors and poets to some book cover posters - one of Catcher in the Rye and the other being Perks of Being a Wallflower. You had covered up most of the walls with random posters of famous paintings, not letting the lilac color break through. There was a weekly planner that hung on the wall and a bulletin board below it filled with some pictures. 

Jughead looked carefully at everything and then his eyes came back to yours. “It’s pretty much what I thought it’d be”. He gave a small laugh. 

“Pretty much eh?”, you were teasing back and forth again. 

“Well honestly I was expecting it to be wall to wall books”, he walked towards you and gave you a small kiss while his hands were on both sides of your face.

“Trust me, if I had it my way, it would be”, you gave him a slight push and opened up your closet, and on the top shelf that was floating above the rack of clothes were stacks of childhood books that you had loved growing up. 

“Yep, that’s closer”, he came up behind you and gave you a slight hug around your body while giving a kiss to your chin. You turned around, grabbed Jughead by the back of his neck and went up with your lips for a deep kiss. He had returned in kind, battling with his tongue for dominance. Your fingers went up to his hair, slowly moving the beanie off. His hands went to your hair giving it a slight tug, he stopped for a moment making sure this was okay. You gave a small giggle and his deep kiss returned. Your hands went down and you began to pull off his flannel, in return he took off your shirt. His lips paused from kissing to get it over your head and he was once again watching your body. 

His eyes went to your arm. “Is it better?”, he slowly used his fingers to lightly touch your back. 

“Yeah, basically nothing now”, still a little ashamed about it, your eyes went to the floor. He looked to your arm, where your old scars still laid. 

“Can I ask you something?”, you were a little thrown off from where it seemed your kiss was heading but you nodded all the same. He grabbed you by the hand and sat you down on your bed beside him. 

“Why did you do this before Chuck?”, he slightly glided his fingers towards your scars and then looked to your eyes. His very kind eyes. 

You gave a breath, nerves seemed to fill you again. “A sense of release? Something to control? At one point it felt good, something to rely on. Something….to make me feel better as odd as I know that sounds…”, your words were escaping you and you started to feel ashamed about them. You couldn’t look him in the eye, thinking he could never really understand. That he probably thought you were unhinged somehow. 

“You don’t want to do it anymore though, right?”, the concern in his face was once again brought back. 

“I’m always going to have those moments. Even if it’s for a split second, and rarely now, it does come to my mind”, your eyes were still to the floor. 

“What changes your mind from doing it?”, you were pretty sure he just wanted to understand. 

“Focusing on the positives I do have. My brother, books, the future…you”, your eyes finally went back to Jughead’s. He gave a smile but you could still tell he was still concerned. 

“Alright then. I guess…I just worry about you”. 

 You felt weird again. Like he was too great for you. You didn’t deserve this caring, intelligent guy in front of you. “I’m sorry if it’s too much…”, your eyes went to the floor again and your head hung low. 

He shook his head quickly and guided your face to look back at his. “It’s you. It’s not too much. You shouldn’t have to deal with everything that you do, but I love you”. 

“I love you too”, in your mind you still couldn’t comprehend how he could like let alone love someone like you. He brought your foreheads together slightly tapping it. 

“I really mean it Y/N, you’re amazing”. You gave a slight laugh. 

His lips dived into yours again and he brought you back onto his body. His head on your pillow now. His beanie had fully dropped from his head now and his tongue was winning over yours. His hands reached your back and he began to un-clasp your bra. His hands removing your straps and tossing it to the floor. His hand massaged the left side of you, making him slightly groan. Your body soon became hot, an overwhelming feeling to want more. 

You grasped his shirt and began to pull it off, his lips and hands separated from your body as you lifted it off of his head. He looked down at your body. He grabbed the side of your hip and turned you on your back so now he was on top. Your body was feeling overheated and all you wanted to do was feel closer to Jughead. You began to pull at his belt and started to unbutton his jeans. He pulled at your pants unbuttoning them in the same fashion. You lifted your hips and he glided your pants off and then got up to take off his own. 

He stared at your body once more, “You’re so gorgeous”, you gave a smile. He lips dived in again to yours and then went down to your neck, then to your chest. The pulsating feeling around your nipple was intoxicating. Your breath becoming heavy, you gave out a slight sigh. 

“I want you”, you whispered. His fingers trailed down your hips to your panties and they made circles around your entrance. He pushed the fabric down, off your legs and gently slid his fingers to the front of your slit. You gave a breath in preparation for his fingers. His eyes watching you becoming engrossed with his touch. 

 He gave a breath, “I want you too”. Once again, your body was his.


The Palooka Personal Preservation Pod

Every once in a while when I’m out scavenging, I’ll come across one of these Preservation Pods.  Sometimes you find something good in them, but most times you just  find the body of the poor sucker who bought it, either cooked inside, or close by.  Once in a Blue Moon you might even find a live Feral Ghoul trapped inside. Damn shame Cash is only good for wiping your backside these days. I find a lot of old money in these things.

The story of these Pods goes like this; back before the “Big One”,  this Snake Oil Salesman named Joseph P. Palooka came up with a scam to get rich really quick.  Playing on the fears of people to simpleminded to know what’s what, Palooka sold these Personal Preservation Pods as a cheap alternative to buying a Sim-Corp Vault Timeshare condo. They sold like hotcakes.  The only problem was, and it was a doozey, was that they simply didn’t work. Folks fried like spam in a can.  Of course after the “Big One”, nobody who bought one was around to complain or ask for a refund.

As for old Joe, well he rode out the “Big One” in style.  He used his ill-gotten gains to purchase himself a Deluxe Sim-Corp Vault Timeshare Suite with all the bells and whistles.  If you learn nothing else, learn this; never skimp when it comes to personal preservation, and if it sounds to good to be true, it probably is.

Okay. I think I’m ready.

To get back into writing.

It’s been a crazy past month and a half! Not only did I have to deal with the stress and trauma of going to the hospital three times, on one of those occasions it involved me sustaining a blow to my head that required seven staples (I had passed out at home and my head struck a tile floor). I … don’t remember much of that day. It’s probably for the best.

There’s an embarrassing aspect to all of this: on that Valentine’s Day fall, I also fell on my tailbone. I keep telling my husband I need an ass transplant. This shit hurts. As I said elsewhere, this is coming from a person who has had two open heart surgeries: bruising your tailbone is painful. I can’t really sit for any length of time, which means I can’t participate in the RP events I want to go to. If you do happen to see me logged on for any length of time, rest assured I’m taking frequent breaks because even though sitting is much more tolerable now, it can still be quite painful if I don’t sit right.

Things are slowly getting better. Thank you for being patient :)

Picture It: Sicily, 1912...


Published - March 24, 2017

Title - Picture It: Sicily, 1912…

Characters - Dean, Reader, Sam

Pairing - Dean x Reader

Summary - The Reader comes home from a long day at work to find Dean in their bedroom watching … .The Golden Girls.

Word Count - 662

This Imagine Will Include - Fluff

*Author’s note at the end

*Gifs are NOT mine

 “Fucking finally.” You breathe when you look up at the clock to see that it was seven o’clock aka time to go home. You quickly untie the apron from around your waist and walk behind the counter to hang it on the hook.

“You’re leaving?” Brenda, your friend and fellow waitress, sighs jealously, and you smile smugly. Sure, working at the diner sucked major ass sometimes, but you couldn’t get all of your money by hustling at pool with the boys. And besides, it helped to get out of the bunker.

“Sorry, babe. But, hey, you only have an hour left! It’ll fly by.” You speak and Brenda rolls her sky blue eyes.

“’It’ll fly by’ my ass.” She huffs and you laugh before waving goodbye and heading out to you car.

Luckily, the diner was only thirty minutes from the bunker. You had been gone since before Dean woke up and you missed him. You both had been texting throughout the day, but it wasn’t the same.

When you pull up in front of the bunker, you grab your purse and head inside. Sam was sat at the table in the library with a book in his hand. He looks up when you get closer and he smiles.

“Hey, (Y/N/N). How was work?” 

“Good. Tiring as fuck, but good. Where’s Dean?” You take your jacket off and throw it on the table, along with your purse.

“Uh, haven’t seen him in a while. He’s probably sleeping.” Sam says and you thank him before starting the search for your boyfriend. You sigh as you turn down another long as hell hallway. All you wanted right now was a bottle of beer, some popcorn, and your boyfriend.

When you get to the door that would lead you into the bedroom you and Dean shared, you stopped short when you heard the familiar voice of Sophia Petrillo invade your senses.

“Picture it, Sicily 1912…”

You threw a hand over you mouth to stop your laughs from spilling out. Was he watching the Golden Girls?! You peek in through the crack and see your gorgeous sitting on the bed, a beer in his hand and a soft smile on his face. The room was dark except for the glow from the TV.

 One episode ends and the other begins and you stood there with your mouth opened as Dean began to sing the theme song. Suddenly, you couldn’t hold it in anymore, and fell into the room, loud laughs falling from your lips.

“(Y/N)!” You had never seen his eyes so wide.

“I…Can’t…” You manage between laughs, tears falling from your eyes. Five minutes passed before you were able to stand to your full height. After wiping your eyes, you turned to see Dean sitting on the bed with an unamused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to laugh.” You say as you sit on the bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his pouting lips. He huffs and you run a hand over his dirty blonde hair.

“You’re…not going to tell Sam, right?” He asks, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course not, babe. I’m just…surprised ‘s all. Didn’t peg you for the type of guy to watch a show about a bunch of old ladies.” You snicker and Dean rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop.” You say, kissing his cheek and standing up to change out of your clothes. Dean turns his attention back to the TV and changes it to a show about monster trucks. You suddenly felt bad about making fun of him for a show he enjoyed to watch. So what if it were more for women than men. It was pretty funny, after all.

You slip on one of Dean’s shirts and jump onto the bed, grabbing the remote and turning it back to the Golden Girl’s.

“What are you-”

“I like this show, too. Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.” You say and Dean leans in to peck your lips.

“Love you, sweetheart.” He whispers.

Author’s Note:

So I’ve been watching the Golden Girls nonstop the past couple weeks and thought it would be funny to write a drabble about it. Hope y’all enjoyed!

My Aphrodite Origin Story

If you had told me this time last year that I was going to be working with Aphrodite I would have laughed. At the time I wasn’t sure deity was ever going to be a thing for me, beyond archetypal/story work, and, if we are being honest, I really didn’t like her. Eros and Psyche is one of my all-time favorite myths, as is Atalanta… and when that’s your jam Aphrodite kind of comes off as a possible Snow White queen archetype’s mythological origins. Which, I mean, that’s not wrong… it’s just not everything.

Fast forward to just starting Year and a Day Tarot (#yaadt) with Alie! This was the first really ritual based practice I had brought into my life since declaring myself “vaguely witchy maybe” last year. Alie’s ritual, inspired by The Craft, was really a perfect introduction back into a kind of living I hadn’t explored since I was a teen. It was kind of a Pandora’s Box full of spirituality, since we’re talking myths.

When we reached The Empress something curious happened: I went all out. I had my Marie Antoinette doll set up as my stand-in (space limitations have me using dolls and the like as a proxy) and I rounded up materials for the four suits that were “on brand” for that pinkish aesthetic. I even wore a heart festooned dress with pinks and golds. I just felt compelled, no other reason. Weirder still: my cat, who never showed an interest in my tarot work before, was watching the whole thing quite intently. Afterwards, the Empress really made herself available to me and it was one of the most powerful experiences from #yaadt to date. I have been wondering if this was actually “first contact”—I just wasn’t sure who I was talking to yet.

In February of this year I really devoted myself to “sorting out this Two of Cups bullshit”—my hang ups with love. I worked a LOT with Eros and Psyche as a narrative of the balance of love and trust, which probably opened the gateway a little bit more.

This month started with my going “I do want to give deity work a try” and really researching Sophia, thinking maybe I found a wisdom goddess I could get behind. Nope, nothing. I wasn’t frustrated, I just figured it wasn’t for me. Life resumed as normal for a little while.

Then, one morning, I was drawing my card of the day at my altar space. I was putting the card on its little stand and taking in my lovely space. All of a sudden there was a voice in my head:

You really like beautiful things, she said and I could feel her smirk. And I knew who she was– years of being a mythology buff probably helped. 

Later the same morning, I was putting away some books and there she was again, a little less distant and just as sassy about it: You really do love a good romance, don’t you? Shame there’s not a goddess for romance and beautiful things.

At this point I’m sort of taking in my whole room like I am seeing it for the first time. The Austen, the E. M. Forster, the actual trash romance novels (I’m looking at you, Sookie Stackhouse), my beautiful dolls, the dried flowers, and all the knickknacks. The little ways I am always trying to make things prettier. The birds, especially, I’ve got a lot of doves, swans, geese, and songbirds in my décor. And then there were the unicorns—they come from sea foam, darling, just like me.

Crap. I’ve been working with her for years and I just never noticed.

So, um, I’m working with Aphrodite now. This was why I was looking things up and found the goose/swan art trope. I have no idea what I am doing, only that I am apparently very much hers and I am much more okay with this than I would have speculated at an earlier point in time. 

anonymous asked:

It's 3:34 pm in Austria. I am currently writing my bachelor paper, I haven't done much yet. I have one week left. Yikes.

You’ve got this. Seven days. There’s still time. 

You’ve come this far. You’ve climbed tooth, claw and nail to get here. You’ve written papers before, you’ve done research before - this is merely the same principle, on a different scale. This isn’t new. You can do this, because every other assessment, all those transferrable skills you’ve acquired throughout your academic life to this point will help you get through this.  

Focus on your central thesis. If you don’t have time to flirt with alternative lines of argument, leave it to one side. Hone your central argument, support it with relevant examples, reference it and you’re done. Get the basic structure down - you can always go back and refine it later. 

And, while this is my experience and there is no way in hell I’m advocating this practice, I finished my entire 10k+ final university thesis in a week. It was daunting, and often it was the ‘guilt’ of not starting earlier - when I knew I had to- that prevented me from starting six, three, two, a month before the deadline. It was really in the last week before the deadline that I had to confront my fear, throw it out the door and just start. Because there was no other option but to get through. 

A week of tears, maniacal laughter, coffee, lack of sleep and a scary drive down the highway later, I was done. Could I have done better? Yes. Could I have started earlier? For sure. Was the final product what I envisaged or up to my standards? Heck no. But you know what? It’s done. Complete. 

Submitting a paper is better than not submitting one at all. 

tl;dr, you are not alone anon. 

You can do this. 

One paragraph at a time.  

I’ll see you in a week. 

from australia, bedtime. 

As we grow older, and hence wiser, we slowly realize that wearing a
$300 or $30.00 watch, they both tell the same time…

Whether we carry a $300 or $30.00 wallet/handbag, the amount of money
inside is the same;
Whether we drink a bottle of $30 or $3.00 wine, the effect is the same;Whether the house we live in is 30 or 300 sq.m. the loneliness is the same.
Whether you fly first or economy class, if the plane goes down, you go down with it…

Hopefully, one day you will realize, your true inner happiness does not come from the material things of this world.

Therefore I hope you realize, when you have mates, buddies and old friends,brothers and sisters, who you chat with, laugh with, talk with, have sing songs with, talk about north-south-east-west or heaven & earth, ….that is true happiness!

mapleleivo  asked:

You gave me the cutest match (Landeskog!) so I'll give you one :) Nikita Kucherov! While on vacation with your family in Tampa you go to a small coffee shop every morning (you love your family, but alone time is important -- especially on vacations when it seems like a minute alone is impossible to come by). Kuch sees you the first day you're there from under his hat, but god knows he didn't have the courage to say hello and you didn't look up from your book once. "Tomorrow, I'll say hello." (1)

Ever since this was sent to me I’ve been obsessed with him and I’m not happy about it. But I still love this so so so much so I’m sharing it

Does anyone else ever think about how Tumblr sort of has its own version of alternate universes?

Like, say, there’s a popular post with a fair amount of notes. You’ve seen it come across your dashboard multiple times. It has a fascinating discourse going, and replies are filled with witty additions and reaction doodles. Maybe you’ve even reblogged it once yourself. You simply take for granted that this popular version of the post is the only one that exists, the tried and true.

But then one day, the same original post crosses your dash again, but in this thread, the original post is met with an entirely different second reply, which then alters every response that follows. It’s much shorter, and there are no reaction doodles; the conversation discusses a different aspect of the topic. The entire course of this post and its history has been wholly changed by distinctly different reactions by those who read and shared it. You realize that the post you had always seen before is by no means the default, and that there are dozens of versions of this one burgeoning post. It was foolish to have assumed that the reality you were so familiar with was the only one to see.

What a wild website.

One day you’re going to meet someone who will love you unconditionally, accept all of your shortcomings and make you feel that you’re worth having. One day, someone out there will save you from loneliness you’re feeling right now and show you that in this life, we can be happy and be over the clouds if we want to. One day, someone will travel for hours just to hold you close, feel your presence and make you feel that you are worth travelling for. One day, someone will never get tired of loving you, pacifying you when you’re angry until you become okay, feed you with your favorite food and be your best friend at the same time. One day, this someone will walk down the aisle for you and prove that you don’t need perfect relationships, you just need to be contented and be grateful for what you have. This someone will be excited to spend the rest of his days being your lifetime companion.
He will come, just be patient.
—  E.J. Cenita

My friend learned the hard way to not answer the door to late night trick-or-treaters

by reddit user manen_lyset

We all have that one friend who’s not into the holidays. You know the one: won’t decorate, won’t dress up, won’t wish you a happy -whatever day it is-, and, though he’ll reluctantly agree to come to your themed party, he’ll stay in the back and scowl the whole time. In most cases, the hate is directed at just one holiday, whether it be Valentines, Christmas, Easter, or, hell, even arbor day. My friend Patrick? He hated Halloween with every fiber of his being.

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To my Black and Brown fam, please stay safe.

Stay indoors.

The worse has happened and that man was elected. White supremacy will rear the ugliest of heads in the coming days. They will be hunting. Check in with your loved ones. This is not a drill.

We will rally again. But now is not the time.

Stay home. Stay safe.

They’re watching baby animals videos

( @greyhairsowhat happy birthday dear !!!!  (ノ ´ 3 ` )ノ  ❤️️💕)

Some people take your breath away from the very start. Loud and wild and incredibly alive. Sometimes you fall hard with on the spot, and it lasts, but here’s the thing about love: mostly it grows. Mostly it’s seeing her in class and wondering what she's thinking. Watching her write her name at the top of her paper in loopy cursive. When you ask her out for the first time, your palms are sweaty. God, you think. Get a grip. But then she says yes, and you stop thinking altogether.
     And it’s quiet, this love. Shimming it’s way into your life. You learn that she’s funny. She likes bad reality TV and drinks coffee by the gallon. When you compliment her, she tucks her chin in embarrassment. She’s kind to people. Generous. And here’s the other thing about love: mostly you don’t see it coming.
     One day in the middle of winter she takes your hand and presses close and says, “You’re so warm. God. I wish I could wear you like a sweater.” And that’s it. The shy girl in English with big eyes. Loopy cursive. This girl. This is it, you think. This is what it’s all about. You tell her that you love her one day, many months later, and maybe she says it back. Maybe she smiles wide with all of her teeth and says, “it took you long enough. ” Maybe you marry her or maybe she starts asking for space. Maybe it’s too much, this love. Or maybe you break her heart and she never forgives you. Maybe love just doesn’t cut it this time. Maybe all of this. None of it. Something else entirely. I mean, that’s the thing about love: mostly it doesn’t make any sense at all.

Your group of friends have an inside joke they always reference, but when you ask what it means they just say “You had to be there to get it.” One day you hear a group of strangers say something that prompts you, out of instinct, to reference the inside joke you have heard so many times. They freeze, come closer to you, and say “Has the boss contacted you yet?”