saw this on facebook and i thought i should put it up on tumblr

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2,900 words

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

In which Yuri gets drunk and Tweets some things he probably shouldn’t have.

AO3 link

So @94mercy made this post that headcanoned that Yuri gets drunk one night and talks about the size of Otabek’s dick on social media, and I immediately knew I had to write it. Otherwise known as me just wanting to join in with all the hung!Otabek content that’s been coming out of this fandom in recent weeks. 

(Also tagging @daddybek because that’s where this all started back in February)

They’ve been dating for a few months when it happens.

Yuri goes round to Mila’s for a few drinks after practice one day, and they steadily make their way through a bottle of vodka, laughing and talking about their respective partners. The music is loud and Yuri feels all loose and giggly as he reaches for his phone, taking selfies and documenting their escapades on Snapchat. He’s never been this drunk before, so drunk he’s not even sure what order his memories from the last few hours go in, so drunk that he can barely stand, so drunk that the room is spinning.

He sits down and opens Twitter, starting to type. He doesn’t even think about what he’s Tweeting, just starts a thread and keeps on going until he gets it all off his chest. Mila is grabbing at his hands and pulling him up so they can dance together again, and Yuri’s phone lies on the couch, forgotten.

So he doesn’t see what he’s done until morning.

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Preference #4: He Comes Home Angry (Michael)

TW: Mentions of previous self harm.


Michael was fuming, his harsh grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles a milky white colour.

You watched him intently, unsure of exactly what you should say to try and ease his intense fury.

Michael broke the silence first.

“Why do they do that? What gives them the goddamn right to talk to you like that?” he said, his voice quiet, and strained.

You nibbled on your lower lip, unsure of what to really say. You avert your eyes to the road instead, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

An exasperated sigh escapes the man beside you.

“I just - it breaks my heart… Why do they want to hurt you? I feel like every time I’m truly happy, someone wants to destroy it.”

You turn your head back around to look at him, and you felt a pang in your chest as you saw his eyes were tearing up.

Michael pulled the car into the drive without a further word. You followed him meekly into the house.

You didn’t know how to comfort him. What could you even say about it? That you didn’t mind? Of course you did. Having people rip into you everywhere you went simply because you fell for a man in a band was hard. You and Michael never once lied to each other… it was like an unspoken pact the pair of you shared.

Having to disable replies and comments on social media because all that anyone seemed to say was how worthless you were, how ugly you were, how Michael could do better.

Hate accounts dedicated to you were scattered everywhere - on Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter… even on Facebook.

You managed at first. You loved Michael, more than you ever thought you could have loved someone; you knew he reciprocated - he looked at you as though you were the one that put the stars in the sky.

It was when you had made the mistake of wearing a short sleeved shirt, and fans were quick to zoom into the photos that the press had managed to snap of you and Michael.

Posts dedicated to your left forearm were everywhere - some filled with support, but most filled with hatred. ‘Damaged goods’, they called you.

The scars that littered your arm had become a part of you. You were so used to them now that you were always confused when people’s gazes shifted from your face, to your arm, and back again. Until you remembered.

You and Michael were leaving the club after a night out together - the pair of you felt carefree and elated.

Yet as you made the descent from the club doors to the car, a fusillade of flashes greeted you, along with shouted questions about cheating rumours, comments intended to set one of you off.

One in particular stood out to the pair of you, however, and was the cause of Michael’s frustration.

“Any more scars on your arm, (Y/N)? Looking for some more sympathy and attention?”

You had gripped Michael’s forearm tightly as he began to hurl verbal abuse at the culprit, his initial instinct always being to defend you.

You didn’t let go of his arm until you were both seated safely in the car.

Which brings you to now. The silence between the two of you says all that your words couldn’t.

You and Michael sat beside each other in bed, so close to each other, but not touching. You hated it… You wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, wrap yourself around him and rest your head into his shoulder, knowing that he made you feel safe like nothing else ever could. For some reason, it felt like there was a barrier between the two of you. Something stopping you from getting close to him.

“You deserve better,” Michael mumbled. It was the first words he had uttered since you arrived home.

“There’s nothing that could ever be better than you,” you whispered into the darkness. “You’re it for me. I… I can’t imagine a life now without you in it.”

A heartwrenching sound tore from Michael’s throat, as he began to let out loud, shuddering sobs.

Suddenly, the barrier you felt before melted away, and you pressed yourself as close to him as you could, trying to soothe him, desperate to take away his pain and hurt. You held his shaking body in your arms, and you dreaded what would come next.

“I love you. I fucking love you, and I know it hurts you. I see it in your eyes, I see it in the way your body stiffens. As if you’re building up that wall again, trying to keep people out in case they hurt you. You do deserve better than me. Better than what I can give you. I can’t protect you from them! I can’t stop them, baby… I’ve tried so hard,” he gasped between his shaking cries.

“Please, Michael… don’t. You know I only ever want you. Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I know that’s what’s going through your head right now, but I swear, that would kill me. I’d rather take people saying things like that every bloody day of my life than have to live without you.” Tears of your own were spilling now.

“I fucking hate it!” Michael suddenly yells, breaking away from your pleading embrace, getting out of bed and running a hand through his wild, unruly hair.

“This isn’t what I wanted! I wanted to live my dreams, I wanted to be in a band with my brothers, I wanted to tour the world and make music that fucking meant something. I wanted to make people happy… and those people who claim I’m their goddamn sunshine, their saviour, the person who inspires them and makes them happy… they’re the people breaking my love’s heart every fucking day! I can’t take this anymore, I…” Suddenly his yelling stops, and he’s back on the bed, leaning over you, wiping away tears you didn’t know had been shed.

“Seeing you like this breaks my heart. I - I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I… I know I’m living the dream I had as a teenager. I fucking love my life and what I do, but not at the expense of my relationship. When I met you, my dreams shifted. I still wanted to do all the things I’ve always wanted to do, but with you right beside me. I want you with me always. Being with the woman I love is more important than being a ‘celebrity’. I’m leaving the band. Don’t argue with me, my mind is made up. I can still write and help produce… I’ll still make music. Behind the scenes, this time. I don’t wanna be out on the frontline and have you being hurt day in, day out. You mean more than I could ever have believed possible, baby. It’s cheesy and it’s not usually what I’m like but I just really fucking need you to know. I don’t say it enough, I’ve never been that guy. I’m not good with words unless I’m writing a song… but you’re everything to me. You’re my happiness. I can’t lose you, and I can’t stand by and watch you be hurt. I love you.”

You were full out sobbing, and you pulled him closer to you. You needed him close. There was no way in hell you were going to let him leave that band. You were strong, you could handle it. He loved what he did, and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself it you were the reason he left it all behind.

You decided to speak in the morning, when things were a little less raw, painful and needy. When the anger subsided, if only slightly. You’d make him look at the situation rationally. You knew you could.

For now, the pair of just held each other as close as humanly possible, whispering declarations of love and sweet nothings until sleep came and took hold of you.

A/N: So this was a different take on prompt, I hoped you guys liked it. It was extremely fluffy, but I picture Michael like that anyway really. Every so often, everything he feels just comes rushing out. Hope you liked it!

Love always,

Steph x


Official #BlackoutDay Masterpost (Created: March 29, 2015. Updated: March 6th, 2017)

Welcome to the official #BlackoutDay / #TheBlackout Masterpost.

This post was originally hosted on WhatWhitesWillNeverKnow and is now on @theblackoutofficial.

In this post you’ll find the history of the movement, including important changes to the team and format, and FAQ. 

 Let’s get started…

(Click on “Read More” to read the full post)

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I wrote this when Phil made his ‘My Secret Files’ video and totally forgot about it until I was moving stuff over from my old hard drive and figured posting it is better than just having it exist but not be anywhere so I hope you enjoy lmao

Summary: Phil is sorting out his old computer and he finds an accidental sex tape of his and Dan’s. 

Warnings: idk slight sexy times(ahaha I cant write smut lol) sad break up times and a little bit fluffy

Word count: 3489 

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[ IDK if you’ve done this before but Josh n y/n breakup for a stupid reason(I was thinking issues online or smth) and it starts to take a toll on the band (try can tell) and Jenna is back at home w y/n and she can tell it’s hurting y/n so they get back together? - Anonymous]

[A / N - Guys this is almost 3,000 words!!! I’m so sorry that it’s so long, but I hope you enjoy it!]

You were sitting in your living room one afternoon, just browsing through your accounts on Facebook and Tumblr, occasionally laughing at the odd post. It was dreary outside and you had the tv on just for background noise, curled up on the couch with a blanket. Your family was posting photos of their kids and occasional recipes that they said they would make, but never actually did. You quickly got bored and closed the app, clicking on Instagram. 

Everything was alright at first, celebrities posting weird photos like they usually did. But then you saw a photo Josh posted, and it seemed harmless. It was just him on stage with his drums and it looked like maybe Tyler had taken it. You smiled to yourself, immediately liking the photo, happy that your boyfriend of three months was having the time of his life. You were upset when you couldn’t go on tour with them like Jenna could, your work preventing you from even taking more than a week vacation every year. Plus, you knew that the store you worked at would be completely devastated if you left, and you really didn’t feel like putting so much pressure on Josh to financially support you. It was a little bit too early in your relationship for that.

You clicked on the comments under the photo, always interested to see what the fans had to say. But you immediately regretted your decision. Of course there were the fans that supported Josh, congratulating him on a job well done and people saying that Twenty One Pilots saved their life. You couldn’t say anything bad about that because Twenty One Pilots saved your life as well, in more ways than one. 

But then there were those nasty comments asking Josh about you. They were overall just negative, people saying how ugly you were, that you two didn’t make a cute couple, and that Josh should break up with you. Some even asked if Josh had broken up with you, others responding to those comments with a ‘I hope he did’. 

It broke your heart, tears forming in your eyes, when you closed the app, throwing your phone on the coffee table. You brought your knees up to  your chest, hugging them tightly as you buried your face into your legs, letting the tears fall. You knew that it was stupid to let the comments get to you like this, but the fans meant so much to you and you wanted to get on their good side. To let them see that you really did care about Josh. But apparently they couldn’t see that. 

It felt like ages before you stopped crying, the room already dark enough that you needed to turn on a light. Instead you just sat there, wiping your eyes with your sleeves, sniffling. You uncurled yourself, glancing at your phone on the coffee table. You picked it up and saw that you had missed calls and texts from both Josh and Tyler. You didn’t even bother to look at them, immediately going through your comments until you found Josh’s number. You clicked it and then clicked the call button, sighing as you brought it up to your ear, already knowing that you had to go through with this plan. 

It rang four times before you heard a groggy “Hello” from the other end. You felt bad for waking Josh up, just now realizing the time zone difference.
“Hey Josh.” You heard some rustling and a yawn on the other end, Josh coughing slightly. You figured that he was sitting up as much as he could in his bunk on the tour bus. Or maybe they had gotten a hotel for that night. You weren’t sure. 

“Hey y/n, are you alright?” His voice still sounded groggy, but not as much now. You could just see him now, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the time on a clock. 

“Ye…yeah. No. Actually no. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” You sighed, slouching down into the couch, pulling the blanket around your shoulders.
“Wait, what can’t you do? Y/n, talk to me please.” 

“I can’t date you right now. I’m…I’m so sorry.” You’re voice broke as tears streamed down your face. You absolutely hated doing this to Josh but you couldn’t handle what the fans were saying about you. 

He started to respond but you ended the call, throwing your phone to the opposite end of the couch. You quietly got up, dropping the blanket to the floor and headed to your bedroom. You stripped down to your underwear and climbed in between the sheets, hiccupping slightly as you felt your pillow absorb your tears. You couldn’t believe that you actually broke up with Josh but it had been done. The damage couldn’t be undone now.


It had been a week since you broke up with Josh. He called you multiple times every day, your phone even receiving calls from Tyler every once in a while. But you ignored them all, trying to keep yourself from crying as you hit the end button on every single one. 

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand as you turned down the street you lived on, hand gripping the wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. You were sniffling when you approached your driveway, pausing as you realized there was a car parked in front of your garage. 

You slowly pulled up behind the black car, figuring that maybe it was one of the neighbors. But that thought dissipated when the driver door of the car opened as soon as you put your car in park. You saw a flash of blond hair, quickly realizing who it was, you almost put your car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. Instead, you shut the engine off, grabbing your purse as you opened the door. 

Jenna made her way to the front of your car, arms crossed over her chest as she watched you climb out of your car. You knew that she saw your puffy face, red from crying all the way home. You tried to give her a smile, to tell her that you were some what okay. But as soon as the door to your car slammed shut and Jenna reached for your purse, you broke down in tears. She grabbed your purse, putting it on her arm as she gently pulled you into a hug, rocking back and forth. 

You cried into her shoulder, feeling slightly awkward because you didn’t know her all that well. Sure you both hung out but it was always with Josh and Tyler too. She pulled away slightly, moving her thumb across your cheek to wipe away some of the tears. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, closing your eyes briefly. Jenna pulled you into another hug, rubbing your back. You were so thankful that she was here, to be honest. You didn’t know how you had made it through the past week without anyone to lean on. But now Jenna was here, for how long you didn’t know, but you were going to piece yourself back together with her help. 

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” She pulled away, linking her arm with yours and pulled you towards your house. Once at the door, she handed your keys to you and you fumbled with the lock. You blushed slightly finally getting the door open. You walked inside, Jenna right beside you as you walked into the dining room. Jenna put your purse on the table, toeing off her shoes as she made her way to the kitchen without a word. You were left to your thoughts as you placed your keys in your purse, toeing off your own shoes, absentmindedly watching as they flew underneath the table. Pots and pans were heard in the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing, and you walked into the room wondering just exactly what Jenna was doing. 

She had a pot on the stove, scraping a can of chunky soup into it, while on another burner was the tea kettle. It was already whistling and she put the can down on the counter, grabbing a mug and pouring the hot water into it, placing a tea bag in. She turned to you and placed it on the counter closest to you, gesturing for you to take it. You slowly walked over to it, wrapping your hands around the mug. 

“Why?” Your voice was hoarse from crying all day. Jenna glanced at you sideways, stirring the pot of soup, sighing. 

“We need to talk about some things. But you also need to eat, so we’re going to talk over dinner.” You glanced at the clock on the microwave noting that it wasn’t even four in the afternoon yet. You honestly didn’t feel like eating, you didn’t think you had the strength to. You knew that you should though because you barely ate at all this week. 

Your stomach growled against all your protests and you gave up, setting your tea down on the counter before you walked over to a cupboard and pulled out two bowls. You grabbed two spoons out of the dish drainer on your way back to the stove. Jenna thanked you and filled the bowls with the soup. You both headed to the dining room, sitting down at the table. You pulled out your chair, moving your purse to the other end and kicking your shoes farther underneath the table so neither of you would trip over them when sitting down.

“Josh is devastated. I can see that clearly you are as well.” You looked down at the table, quickly stuffing a spoonful of hot soup into your mouth. You winced as it burned your tongue but it tasted really good, sighing as it went down your throat. “You didn’t give him much reason as to why you broke up with him.” 

You shook your head, placing the spoon back in the bowl. “It’s a stupid reason.” You stared as the vegetables moved around in the bowl before finally settling down. Jenna scoffed next to you. 

“It can’t be that stupid.” You glanced at her sideways, giving her a look that clearly said that it was stupid. But she just furrowed her brows at you, confusion evident on her face.

“I read the Instagram comments.”

“Oh honey.” She placed a hand on your shoulder, her soup long forgotten. “Don’t do that. Heck I can’t even bring myself to open Instagram half the time because of all the hate I get. There are thousands of people out there that are so heartbroken because we ‘stole’ their boyfriends.”

You nodded, shrugging her hand off your shoulder. You watched it drop to the table as you hung you head, closing your eyes. “I messed up and I hate it.  I wish I could take it all back.” 

“You can.”

“No I can’t. Josh probably thinks I’m an idiot ad wouldn’t want to get back together with me because he’s probably afraid that I’ll just pull the same shit with him again.” You slouched in your chair, absolutely defeated, rubbing your eyes as you tried not to cry.

“I’m one hundred percent sure that Josh will take you back. He hasn’t been the same since you broke up. He’s been off with his drumming on the stage and sleeping the day away when off the stage. It’s like he’s dead and, honestly, it’s killing Tyler, which is killing me.” 

You sighed, knowing that you really messed up. You hated that it was making Tyler upset and, in turn, making Jenna sad. You hated to see any of them hurt, and you hated that it was all your fault. 

“I need to talk to Josh.” Jenna nodded her head but stopped your hand when you went to reach for your purse to pull your phone out. You gave her a confused look and she shook her head, standing up from the table, pulling you along with her. 

“Josh is on a plane right now. You need to get some sleep.” She began pulling you towards your bedroom, you protests failing to do anything to get you out of her grasp. She pushed you into your bedroom, making you sit on your bed while she rummaged through your dresser. You blushed as you realized that she had to go through your lingerie before she got to the bottom of the drawer, pulling out an old over sized shirt. She didn’t say anything about the lingerie and so you put it in the back of your mind, remembering that she was a married woman. 

Jenna said goodnight to you, claiming that the couch was calling her name, and she left you alone in your room. You changed, shrugging the shirt over your head as you climbed into your messy bed. You pulled the covers over your head as you realized that it wasn’t even six in the evening before you fell asleep, sunlight pouring on your face. 


You woke up to the sound of the front door being closed. There was shuffling and quiet voices traveled down the hallway. You wondered who it could be as you rolled over in bed, stretching your arms above your head. You got out from under your covers, making sure the shirt you wore was pulled down over your butt as you made your way out of your bedroom. 

It was dark now, had to be about ten or eleven at night,  and you groped your way down the hall. You rounded the corner and light flooded into the kitchen from the living room. You rubbed your eyes as you noticed another pair of keys on the dining table, along with two extra pairs of shoes that you knew weren’t Jenna’s. 

You quietly made your way into the living room, pausing as you saw Josh , Tyler, and Jenna sitting on the couch. Jenna was alert, the first one to notice you. She looked better than she had when she first arrived, obviously having gotten some sleep. Tyler’s head was on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her middle. He was half awake, content enough to just fall asleep sitting up. Josh looked the worst, heavy bags under his eyes, his arm propping his head up on the arm of the couch. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were puffy, like he had been crying himself.

“Hey.” It was quiet but everyone turned their heads to you, Josh immediately moving himself to the edge of the couch. He looked more alert now, his eyes filled with sadness when he looked at you. You took a step forward and Josh got off the couch, making his way to you with outstretched arms. You let him pull you into a hug when you walked up to him, you body relaxing as he crushed you to him. You wrapped your arms around him, whispering “I’m sorry” over and over into his chest. You began crying, dark spots forming on his wrinkled shirt, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was just being with Josh and feeling safe with his arms around you. 

“Jenna told me what happened.” You looked up at him, tears streaking down your face and he brought his hand up, cupping your face. “Babe, it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

“Why…why are you sorry? I’m the one who should be sorry.” You were hiccuping at this point, borderline hysterics, tears following down your face uncontrollably. 

“Because I never told you that I love you. I love you so much y/n that I can’t even function when we’re apart.” 

“I love you, too.” You buried your face into his chest, a smile on your face as you hugged him with all your might. He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. 

“Y/n, will you be my girlfriend, again?” You leaned back, looking him in the eyes. Tears threatened to spill down his own face and to Tyler and Jenna it must have looked like a horrible love story, a minimal budget movie that the producers didn’t really care about. But to you, this moment was everything you had been hoping for this whole week. 



Essena O’Neill is a virtual Panhandler.

I saw about 500 different articles yesterday on facebook, buzzfeed, instagram, and tumblr about some girl named Essena O’Neil quitting social media to live life in the real world. I guess this girl was “instagram famous” and companies would pay her to post pictures wearing their clothes or drinking their tea or whatever product they wanted her to endorse. So social media was essentially her career. 

Apparently, Essena had some eye-opening experience that made her realize that she based her self-worth on followers and likes, and that social media is all a facade or “not real life” as she says over, and over, and over, and over again in her 3 youtube videos she made about why she’s quitting social media. She goes on and on for like 15 minutes about how social media isn’t real, she won the genetic lottery, and that people need to get off their phones and live in the now. “Hell yeah! What a great message!” i thought to myself as I watched, but then she completely ruined it for me by closing her message with a pathetic plea for her followers to give her money because she can’t afford her rent. 

This made me furious. Here we have this perfectly healthy 18 year old girl, an alleged straight A student, crying about wanting to live a normal life in the real world, but not actually doing anything to live her desired “normal life” and begging strangers to financially support her. How in the hell is that a step towards living a normal life in the real world? I don’t think her intentions were ever to live a normal life. In my opinion, she’s exploiting a real issue to promote her new blog so she can continue to make money by literally doing nothing, and she’s receiving praise for it. That’s sickening. 

You never quit a job when you have financial responsibilities to take care of and no source of income lined up to replace the job you’re quitting. I thought this was common sense, but I guess I just have good parents and smart friends because this is something I’ve been perfectly aware of since I started working. This girl had a job, social media, that allowed her to take care of her rent and bills without having to depend on someone else to do it for her. I find it ridiculous that people are giving her praise for being irresponsible and quitting her job, leaving her incapable of taking care of herself. I get it, her job was making her depressed and it wasn’t healthy for her to live that way anymore. Guess what? In the real world, pretty much everyone hates their job! I work in a restaurant and deal with assholes all fucking day to the point where I don’t even want to be around people most of the time, but I would NEVER quit my job and put myself in a position where I can’t pay my rent. To be perfectly blunt: that’s just fucking stupid. She is receiving so much attention and praise for something that in the “real world” she so desires to be a part of would be considered stupid and irresponsible. She isn’t accountable for her actions whatsoever, and we are just enabling that. 

So I guess no we’re supposed to feel bad for this poor 18 year old girl who quit her social media job to live a normal life where she begs strangers to support her. An 18 year old, straight A student, who is mentally stable, well bodies, and 100% full capable of finding a normal real world job, but would rather blog about wanting to live a normal life and rely on her followers to support her. Really? We’ll support an adult who is 100% capable of taking care of herself, but when we scoff, judge, and look down on homeless people that ask for spare change outside of stores or on street corners? This girl who has a roof over her head, food in her refrigerator, and clean clothes on her back is more deserving of your spare change than a mentally ill and damaged veteran who has literally nothing? PISS OFF. This girl is no different than the panhandlers you see asking for money outside of stores that eventually drive off in a car nicer than yours cause they’d rather ask people for money than work for it. If you have money to spare, please don’t give it to some girl who is more than capable of taking care of herself. Donate it to a charity, give it to a homeless person, or use it to buy food for a homeless person if you feel skeptical about giving them money. Don’t let yourself be scammed. 

And who follows this girl? What is the demographic of her fans? Well, who uses social media the most: teenagers and young adults. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself  and be financially independent at that age, let alone being responsible for someone else. I find it kind of insulting that I bust my ass trying to balance full-time school with working almost full-time, and this girl wants to beg me and other people going through the same shit as me to pay her bills. Get the fuck out of here. If she put as much energy into finding a job as she’s putting into promoting her blog, then she would for sure be employed right now. Expecting teenagers and young adults, who are most likely working and going to school in order to better themselves, to support you financially is just wrong and she should be ashamed of herself for even asking. 

Social media can be harmful, and it’s important to educate young people about the psychological harm that can happen to people who measure their self-worth in social media popularity. Everyone, and i mean everyone, tries to make their lives seem so much more interesting on social media and it’s important to recognize that and avoid comparing your life so someone’s social media life. If you find yourself getting upset because your life isn’t as exciting as someone’s life on social media, or if you get upset because your picture doesn’t get a million likes on instagram, remember than you’re so much more valuable than that! And if you get to a point where it affects your mental and/or physical health, then get professional help. Know that you are beautiful, loves, and important. I remember the story of Madison Holleran on ESPN called split image and it’s worth the read if you are intrigued by this topic. But don’t support some girl who is exploiting a real issue to gain more attention and to fool people into taking care of her financial responsibilities. We didn’t force her to become an instagram celebrity, we didn’t force her to accept money and sponsorships from companies, we didn’t tell her to make social media her life, and we are not responsible for taking care of an adult who is more than capable of taking care of herself. This isn’t an attempt to start a movement, this is a clever marketing strategy so Essena can rebrand herself. Don’t buy into the bullshit! 

Just say fuck the rest (Ryan Seaman imagine)

Hi can I have a ryan seaman imagine where y/n and him are a couple and she’s a lot younger than he is so ppl are giving them a lot of hate and she sees he’s sad about it so she breaks up with him but he fights for her and they make love (gentle)?

A/n: Argh I’m so so sorry that this took a long time I really am, I have been having a massive writers block and I’m doing my best, I really pushed myself last night so I’m sorry if the smut isn’t as good as I usually write

It was a long day at work for you, having to wake up early, of course having a little sleep in. You had to rush to work. Your boyfriend for 3 years, Ryan Seaman was still sleeping when you left. It was your birthday on the weekend and you spent the whole day at Ryan’s place with his band, Falling in Reverse, you had just turned 20, Ryan was so excited he kept posting it everywhere, posting pictures of the two of you together, Of course he had let you sleep over once it got really late. You hoped to see him and Ryan when you went back to his place to collect your things.

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Gathering My Scattered Thoughts (My First Experience With LSD)

The day after my first experience with LSD, I spent a while gathering together everything I wrote over the course of the 8-hour trip. This was:

  • About a thousand words in a text file
  • Four audio files, totalling about 50 minutes
  • Three text messages to myself
  • Four texts to a friend who ended up coming over
  • Six Facebook messages to another friend
  • One Tumblr post
  • Two Beeminder comments

I’m glad for these records, because they’ve helped me reconstruct most of my thoughts over the course of the trip. Some of what I thought and said was pretty banal, standard stoner fare. When I was on acid, I was constantly having revelations. Only a few of them are still interesting now that it’s worn off.

Before I get into what I’ve learned, I have some practical advice for other people considering their first acid trip. I’ve only done it once; so don’t take my word as gospel. But I think the following are good ideas:

  • Don’t count on the acid taking a full hour to hit. Mine kicked in within half an hour of putting the paper under my tongue. Unfortunately, this happened to be in a pizza parlour. We got home before I was seriously impaired, but that was only possible because it was so close to my house. If we’d counted on a full hour, we’d have been in trouble.
  • Be around people you trust. You’re going to be suggestible, uninhibited, and overcome with big, powerful, and occasionally scary feelings. You want to be around people who won’t take advantage of you, and people who won’t screw around with your mind for their own amusement.
  • Having a sober person there to look after you is a good idea. Failing that, someone more experienced with acid and taking a similar amount isn’t a bad substitute.
  • You probably don’t want to go wandering around outside without sober supervision. You also probably don’t want to be outside during the first part of the trip, when it will be very difficult to pass as sober.
  • Start small. According to this dose chart, I had about 110µg. That’s plenty for a first time.
  • Don’t forget to drink water.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about the actual trip. Thanks to all my notes, I have a pretty good idea of the chronology.

The first things I felt were giddiness and heaviness in my limbs. This was followed shortly by disorientation, closed eyes hallucinations, mild synaesthesia, suggestibility, and short attention span. I also had some dizziness, and wasn’t the best at walking.

For the first hour, the trip was pretty overwhelming. I wasn’t capable of doing much but lying on the couch, watching my closed eye hallucinations. I was barely coherent when I was talking, and each minute felt like an hour. I couldn’t believe that there was six hours of this in store for me. I could force my mind to focus, but only with great effort, and not for very long at all.

After the first hour, I was able to move around a bit, and hold a conversation, although I was still very disoriented, and my mind was wandering a lot. This is where I took my first set of notes.

They were simplistic, poorly spelled, and they almost entirely lack punctuation. They also aren’t very introspective – they just describe what’s happening and what I’m feeling. Each time I hit a key, it reverberated through my whole body, so I got very into the physical act of typing. I treated my laptop like a typewriter, pounding the return key after each sentence.

Eventually I got a bit more lucid, and began to talk to my friend a bit more, although we were both easily distracted. This is also where the Beemindering, Facebook messages, and Tumblr posts occurred.

What followed was an hour of pretty stoned talking, until we decided to listen to music. I was pretty capable of operating my phone to get the music, and took a few more notes at this point. These notes are more coherent, I was able to focus and exert higher function, I just didn’t enjoy it. I was having stomach cramps, and the more aware I was of my surroundings the more aware I was of the pain. In my notes, I talk about a painful clarity when I tried to be aware. It was much easier to let the trip wash over me and keep me numb.

Between this and the music I had a minor revelation about the substance of the acid trip. In the first two hours, I was learning to understand my brain in its new form. After this, I had some ability to choose how deep I wanted to be. If I concentrated, I could function like I was intoxicated on something more mundane, like pot or alcohol. If I relaxed, I could have closed eye hallucinations and deep revelations.

Listening to the music, I went pretty deep into the trip. I felt the music in every part of my body (despite it coming from tiny speakers), and saw crazy fractal patterns on my closed eyes. I felt all the walls around my personality come down, except for the very last set. I knew that if I let those come down, I’d be one with everything. I either wasn’t relaxed enough or hadn’t taken enough acid for that to happen.

After this, some friends came over, and I talked to them, inhabiting mainly the shallower waters of the trip. There were some fun experiences – a railing became part of my body for a while, and all the stars had halos around them.

I had two revelations that I still think are cool.

My first revelation deals with time. The natural time scale that we should interact on is seconds. This is how we interact when we talk. But technology forces us to think in terms of minutes. All of our texts come with a time stamp in minutes: 20:54, 20:55, etc.

On LSD, each second felt like minutes, and I had trouble disentangling the two time scales. I felt like it was late in the night when it was barely ten because I thought each second was a minute. This led to an odd, and artificial feeling of isolation. We had friends literally down the street, but we both felt a big gulf between us and everyone else in the world. By the times friends actually came over, we’d mostly got over this.

My second revelation dealt with the intimacy of an acid trip. It’s choosing a friend (or friends), and deciding to feel lots of euphoria and vulnerability around them. It’s nice to have a form of intimacy that hasn’t yet been gobbled up by the couple-industrial complex.

If you don’t mind the thought of losing complete control of your mind for an hour or two, and want to experience altered states of consciousness, I recommend trying acid sometime. Even if you have no deep revelations, it’s a pretty fun way to spend eight hours.

anonymous asked:

I had a lot of respect for you being one of the few people to stand up against Harley, but now you're in his video having dinner with him? He said you invited him to dinner and you're all friends ?


I really never wanted to talk about Harley again on here, but I guess I have to. This is the REAL story for everyone…

Me and Harley have been going at it on Facebook messenger for months now, we argue about everything… I disagree with pretty much everything that comes out of his mouth these days. But talking to him on messenger is useless because he just runs from all the points I bring up and instead makes jokes or makes stabs at me. A few days ago it got really bad, we were in a heated argument because he was making up lies about me and Tim on Tumblr.

So… instead of replying and continuing this ridiculous back and forth messaging , I tried calling him, he didn’t answer so I messaged him saying “either call me back and talk to me properly, OR never fucking talk to me again”… he replied, “I’ll be Sydney tomorrow how about me meet up and we can talk face to face” I thought about it, and I said okay.

I have so much build up anger towards Harley and even though it would probably be completely useless I wanted to let it all out, to his face, where he couldn’t fucking run away or make some stupid troll joke. I also wanted to try my very best to help see what a bad path he is on… and at the end of the day so I could say, hey at least I tried….that’s why I agreed to meet him.

So yesterday was the cruelty free festival and I didn’t talk to Harley, there was no point the only thing I want to say to him couldn’t be said in public. At one point he sat directly opposite me and waved, I waved back because obviously I’m not going to ignore him, but we didn’t speak the whole day.

THEN that night me and Emily went to newtown for dinner, as we were walking into a restaurant we saw Harley going into the place next door, we noticed he was alone and Emily suggested maybe I should just talk to him tonight so I don’t have to see him again. The restaurant we were in was empty so we could easily talk about everything. I messaged him and said, “hey I saw you at newtown, we are next door if you want you can come in and we can talk now. I’m with Emily.”

That message wasn’t a OH HEY 👋 let’s hang and get dinner… no. BUT of course Harley has manipulated that, and taken everything out of context. So anyway, Harley never opened my message so we just ate and left.
As we were leaving, we walked passed the restaurant Harley was at and Emily saw her friend sitting out the front…her friend called out to her and she was like oh hey and started talking. I looked around and saw Harley sitting one table down from Emily’s friend. He looked at me and said “hey, you stalking me now bonbon, haha”… he was with two girls that I had spoken to previously at the festival that day. I stood there and said hi to everyone. Harley asked me some casual questions, I replied and acted normal because obviously I’m not going to blow up in public, when others are around.

Emily talked to her friend for like 10 min, so eventually I sat down and talked to the two girls. They were asking me some questions about Sydney etc, it was then that Harley snapchatted and filmed me without me knowing. I thought I saw him doing something but then was like nah he isn’t that stupid… anyways the conversation ended with me saying to Harley..“okay I’ll message you about meeting up on Tuesday because we really need to talk” He was like yeah cool bye. Then I got back to my car and I realised he put me on his Snapchat with the caption “evidence”…

I was obviously mad because he made it seem like we were all pals, when that was definitely not the case and he KNEW that. So I messaged him and said “ take me off your snap” he replied later saying “what is this high school? ha ha ha”… then we had an argument about how he is making it look like something it’s not, and I asked him many times to delete it, but of course he didn’t. Then I saw he also put me in his video.

It’s actually really really sad that he is so desperate and has to manipulate situations to make it look like he has my “support” when it’s the complete opposite. I was trying to tell him how much I DON’T support what he is doing right now, and that he needs to get some real help!

This whole situation has reminded me of how much of a master manipulator he is… he literally will twist and tweak every situation to make it look like something that favours him. He is soooo sneaky, he messages Tim behind my back telling him to break up with me because I’m not “good” enough. He messages all my friends trying to turn us all against each other. ITS FUCKED. I just want this to end. I’ve decided I’m not meeting him, he literally doesn’t deserve my time, and before ANYONE says something, no Harley didn’t “make” me, sure he inspired me once upon a time but so did many others… I owe him nothing.

Romeo and Juliet Thing Official Post Yay

Okay guys, I’ve been getting a lot of messages it the last few months asking me to post the rest of my Romeo and Juliet english assignment that got pretty popular. I’ve edited it and I feel like it’s ready to be posted here. Firstly, though, I would like to cover a few things.

  1. Most importantly, though it may seem obvious, this contains heavy themes of suicide and casual mentions of self harm and attempted suicide. It also features drug use and guys who think the friend zone is a legitimate thing. All of these things, minus the friend zone, are taken directly from the original play, but it remains that if you find those things offensive or triggering you should not read this. Parody or otherwise, Romeo and Juliet is about suicide being taken lightly by two teenagers and their families. Please use discretion.
  2. You may use this script (scripty thing kind of) to: show to your class, show to your teacher, perform, film, write a song about it, show it to your friends, read it to your dog or whatever you want to do with it. However, I do ask that you credit me for it using my tumblr url and also my first name and last initial, because my full name is currently not mentioned on this blog. (Jessie M will do.) I also ask that you don’t make any money off of it. Which can get tricky if you’re performing it, I know. Sorry. If you’re performing it I would love to see it filmed if you can! (No idea if people will actually like it enough, but I thought I’d cover myself.)
  3. This is a parody of Romeo and Juliet, and I know some people have really been interested in hearing the rest, so sorry if it doesn’t live up to its hype, but I did try.
  4. This was written and is set in 2013. I wrote it with Australia and specifically my own town in mind, because it was for class, but I don’t mind where you set it if you perform it.
  5. If you can think of something I haven’t answered please send me an ask and I’ll add it.

Here it is under the cut. It’s long for a tumblr post. You have been warned.

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Autistic kids don't benefit from bullying

Couple days ago I saw an article on Facebook written by an ABA therapist about how autistic children ‘benefit’ from being bullied. As an autistic victim of bullying, it hurt me very deep. It’s obvious that the author of this article wasn’t bullied at all, or possibly was at the other side of it. So I decided to put together a different list - here’s what I learned from being bullied at school. 1. I’m broken and abnormal. People who bullied and abused me at school didn’t know I was autistic. They simply saw my differences and decided to make fun of me because of it. I didn’t know I was autistic either, so I came to conclusion that there’s something wrong with me, that I’m broken and wrong. That belief stayed with me for many years. 2. Trying hard is not enough. Of course I tried to change myself and be more normal. I craved friendship and acceptance and I wanted to belong. I tried to change the way I move, be less clumsy, I suppressed my stims, I stopped talking about my special interests. It didn’t help. Every time they would find a new reason to mock me. Passing as neurotypical was not enough. 3. You have to earn friendship and respect. When I was lucky enough to be friends with someone, at least for some time, I considered it a privilege. Being respected and liked seemed like a miracle to me, and I had to earn it. I would do anything to form friendships, I completely submitted to that person, too afraid to lose them. And when they would leave the school or stop being friends with me, I believed it was my fault. 4. There’s no such thing as healthy relationships. You can guess that all bonds I formed with people were highly unhealthy. Most of my so called friends used and abused me for fun. They knew I had no other options and took advantage of me - I did their homework and helped them at tests, and I could never say no. I did everything to please them. I thought that it’s the way human interaction works. 5. You can’t trust people. One of the pranks my bullies loved is tell me lies and watch how I suffer. They would tell me that a class is cancelled tomorrow and then watch me explain why I missed it. They would tell me the wrong homework and watch me mumble excuses when the teacher asked me why I did the wrong thing. They knew I cared about my marks and used it. That’s how I learned that you should never trust anyone. 6. Being smart is bad. Another thing my bullies taught me is to hide my intelligence. Obviously I was a huge nerd and loved talking about science. Some of my classmates used my knowledge for their own good (and I was happy to help), and some mocked me for it. So I suppressed my interests and talents to make the bullying less harsh - but of course it didn’t help. 7. You can’t show your feelings. Looking back on myself, I can say that I was strong. I never cried and showed despair in front of my bullies, I didn’t give them the satisfaction. I suffered in silence and never complained to my teachers or parents, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew that I will make it worse if I’ll show weakness. So I pushed my feelings deep inside. And I still struggle with communicating emotions. 8. If you need help and support, you are weak. When I finally confessed to my parents, they suggested I should stand up for myself. 'Hit them with a book’, my dad said. 'Fight back with words’, my mum told me. But I couldn’t. I was too afraid, too broken to fight back. And my parents told me it was my fault. 'You have to learn to survive in the real world’, they said. 'We all have to do things we don’t enjoy’. I needed help, and it made me weak. Because I couldn’t survive alone. 9. People are cruel. I learned my lesson. People are inherently bad and cruel. I shouldn’t expect them to be good, I have to be careful. It’s better to be ignored than to be bullied. Don’t say anything, they may laugh at you. Don’t try to make friends, they will bully you. Be careful, keep your head down, be silent, be invisible. I disappeared in the crowd, and it helped me survive high school. I became a ghost, and I gave up on humanity. It was much more easier. 10. The real world will never be a good place for you. For several months during my teens I was contemplating suicide. I didn’t plan on actually killing myself, but I lay silently in my bed and wished I would just die. The only things that kept me going were my special interests, daydreaming and fictional worlds. Books and tvshows were my only friends, the most loyal, safe and comfortable things in my life. I learned to hate the real world and enjoy my own, imaginary one. It was my only reason to live. I don’t think that it’s bad. A lot of autistics live in the world of their own. I love fictional worlds. Even now, when my life is much better, they are still the most important things in my life. What I regret is that the real world will never feel as good as fictional. It’s just too spoiled with bad memories, and it hurts too much. I could have avoided it, but it happened and I can never go back now. This is what I learned from being bullied at school. I’m sure it has a lot of benefits, such as social anxiety, trust issues, communication problems and nonexistent self esteem. I wish that the author of the article could read this, and think carefully about what they have done.

Are We Out Of The Woods? - Part Two

• Joe’s Point Of View •

I sat in the corner of my room with my knees tucked right up into my chest, and my head resting back against the wall whilst my hand was clasped around my seventh beer bottle tightly. My cheeks were red raw from all of the tears that rolled down them and the tears that were still running down them. My mind was a mess and my vision a complete blur. I haven’t moved from my room in two weeks nor have I touched any social media for the last two weeks, I’ve done nothing but drink and think about my horrible mistake. What mistake did you make Joe? Was it a little fight? No. It wasn’t. For the last five months I’ve been in a publicity stunt that involved being in a fake relationship with the uprising model, Emily Benjamin. My management team suggested that Emily and I go through this stunt, to gain more followers and subscribers from each other so we’d get more well known and grab more attention from the media. The stunt was to only last a couple of months and end with a big finale breakup of how we ended in a large fight and how we used one another, but in reality..I really lost the girl I’ve only ever loved.

• Flashback •

I stood outside my front door, rehearsing what my management told me to say to Y/N, since they’re the only ones out of everyone that know my relationship status. I did not want to go through with this. I was very happy with Y/N and I didn’t want her to receive rude comments and hate from my subscribers so I decided to keep our relationship a secret, which made it all the more fun at times whilst trying to be secretive. I know Y/N wasn’t happy with my choice and often found it frustrating when surrounded by our friends and by my viewers, but I just wanted to protect her and always keep her smiling, since that was what was most important to me. I smiled at my thoughts of Y/N and kept my hand on the door knob, conjuring images of Y/N up in my mind. That big radiant, bright smile of hers that would light up the entire city of London every day and that contagious little laugh of hers that would bubble up if I told her a joke or about something silly that happened in my day. That stunning body of hers that I loved to manoeuvre my hands around at night and even in the mornings whilst she made breakfast for us both, even though she was so insecure of her body, I could never see a single flaw in it. She was perfect in every way and I lost her. I fucked it up and lost her. All because I went through with the idea of being in a fake relationship for the media, which resulted in me ignoring her to spend more time with my ‘girlfriend’ Emily. I didn’t give her any attention she needed, I was too busy focusing on building up my channel and trying to boost Emily’s career that I forgot the little things Y/N and I had planned, and some important dates she wanted me to attend with her, all because I was too busy with my channel and too into it and too into the publicity stunt.

I gazed down to Y/N’s beautiful eye/colour eyes and felt my heart shudder with sadness on the inside. I watched her face intently as I broke the news to her softly and watched her facial expressions change. I could see her eyes water but she still managed to put a radiant smile on her face. I felt a slight bit of relief when she spoke and told me she understood what was going to happen. I gently rubbed my thumb against her cheek and smiled to myself knowing I was so lucky to have Y/N in my life and I was so lucky that she understood what this would do for my career and how it would bring in some extra money.

I sniffled my tears away before drowning down the remains of my beer and throwing the bottle to the side, hearing it clash against the clutter of empty glass bottles I have stacked to the side of the room, they’re the only friends I’ve had for the last two weeks. I’m not much of a drinker, but maybe if I drink, then I’ll forget the pain and forget the thought of knowing that I lost her.

“I can’t do this..” I muttered to myself, tugging at my hair frustratedly in my hands as I closed my eyes shut tight and begin to picture everything that happened the night she left. I remember walking into the flat after leaving Emily with Caspar in the club. I wanted to get home early, so I could see Y/N and spend some time with her. Lately I’ve been neglecting her since Emily and myself have been doing interviews here and there, filming videos and going on ‘dates’ that I’ve barley seen Y/N. I opened the door with a grin on my face, a bouquet of flowers in my hand and called out for Y/N. I frowned not hearing her voice call back to me. My eyes scanned the flat and I furrowed my eyebrows unsurely since the flat was too quiet for my liking. I carefully stepped inside to see the TV shut off and the lights downstairs turned out. The last time I saw Y/N, she was sat on the sofa with the TV turned on and wished me good luck for tonight. I turned to the kitchen to see if she would be there, making herself a cup of tea like always but my eyes were suddenly drawn to and focused to a piece of paper on the kitchen counter top. 

I’ll never forget the panic, the anger, the betrayal but the sadness and heartbreak that raced through my mind that night whilst reading her letter to me. I’ll never forget how I trashed mine and Caspar’s apartment and turned the table to the floor and smashed the coffee table to pieces by kicking at it and I even destroyed my own bedroom, shattering my mirror to pieces and also making a deep dent in my wardrobe door from punching at it.

That piece of paper that she wrote nearly two weeks ago was now in my hands. The letter she wrote before leaving me and our relationship. My fingers fondle with my chain around my neck, the token of my love that I have failed to give her as I re-read the letter again and again to myself. She left me. She left me to pick up the pieces of my broken heart and even wrote that maybe we weren’t meant to be together and that the special spark we had was now gone along with our relationship. I sobbed loudly feeling my heart crunch like autumn leaves and my chest violently shake. I can’t bear this pain. The pain is pulsing through my veins like an adrenaline and I can’t put up with my heartbreak. I never meant to treat her like this. I knew this stunt would only last five months at the latest but I never thought that it would end my actual, real relationship with Y/N. I never knew she was feeling like this and if I did then I would have ended this stunt a long time ago. I let my eyes dance around the piece of paper and memorise her words and hand writing. Her hand writing was a lot different from her usual hand writing. Her words were slightly slanted to the side and she did not dot her 'i’s’ with little hearts. My eyes glared at the words that hurt me the most. I made her feel like she was practically single all over again..Who would want that relationship?

I thought Y/N and I had a relationship that would last forever, like she wrote in her letter. Y/N and I had a special spark that no one could replace or take away, nor could they ever burn that special spark out. My hands were now roughly rubbing my cheeks as my thoughts spun around my mind to the point where I felt completely sick to my stomach. I never should have went through with the publicity stunt, it was a ridiculous proposal from my management that day and I clearly wasn’t thinking straight. My mind was focused on gaining more subscribers for my channel and being able to make my channel a lot bigger than it already is, but knowing that now I’ve to suffer without Y/N and face the consequences. It kills me.

Don’t think I haven’t tried to talk to Y/N. I’ve called her every single day, morning, noon and night. I’ve called her so much that it’s not possible to leave a voice message in her mail box now since I’ve completely filled it up. I’ve sent her text message after text message after text message and I even went to her old family home and wrote her letters then shove them through the little letter box built into her door but I’ve heard nothing nor have I received a letter in response. I’ve been keeping track of her social medias only to find that she had last tweeted the day she left me, and it was simply just a plain full stop and nothing more. Earlier that day, she tweeted me good luck since my viewers know she was simply a 'best friend’ but nothing more, she only received retweets and favourites but my viewers did not know that she also gave me a passionate, steamy good luck kiss just before I left with Emily and Caspar who were waiting for me out in the limo that was taking us to Leicester Square that evening. Y/N has completely shut me out and has failed to check her social medias where I’ve messaged her constantly on everything, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Whatsapp..everything, and she hasn’t replied or opened any of my messages which makes my chest tighten with worry.

My heart ached for Y/N’s love and tender care, along with her soft sweet kisses and tight, squeezable hugs that not only I adored, but everybody adored. Her hugs were special and ones that you would treasure forever. Your arms would wrap around her waist and you would instantly feel her arms tighten around your body and begin to rub your back whilst she nuzzled her chin onto your shoulder. I was craving one of her special hugs but felt my arms filled with air since I lost my entire world to a stupid publicity stunt that means absolutely nothing to me and is completely worthless.

I was and still am so concerned and worried for Y/N’s wellbeing since I had and still have no idea where she was or currently is and her parents have no interest in telling me where she is or who she is with.

If I’m going to win Y/N back, then I need to clean myself up and grow back into myself. There’s no way Y/N can ever see me in this state, it would only give her more of a reason to leave me and our love behind and that is definitely not what I plan on doing. I’m going to show Y/N that we have a beautiful, rare and unique spark between us and I’m going to show her how much I really love her and how much I absolutely need her in my life and I will win her heart back, no matter what.

We’re just two lovers lost in the woods, trying to find our way out from the monstrous trees.

Hellooo! Here’s part two to Are We Out Of The Woods? I’m so overwhelmed and overjoyed by all of the messages I’ve been receiving! I really can not thank you all enough! Your kind words, reblogs, likes and lovely messages mean so much to me! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted part two in a while, this week has just been quite busy, so I’m so sorry about that! I hope you enjoyed part two of this imagine and if you would like then there definitely will be a part three! Don’t be afraid to message me your thoughts, I love reading your messages! All the love ❤️xxx

First Mistakes

This is Part 4 of the Your Mistake story I wrote a long time ago! I know I have requests, but I hadn’t written in a long time and I needed to get back into the mindset. I had a lot of this stirring in my head so I hope you guys are okay with me getting it out! I really enjoy writing it, but I know it’s really different from what I usually write so I’m sorry if you aren’t interested! I REALLY hope you like it!

Your Mistake

More Mistakes (Part 2)

Our Mistakes

Word Count: 2247


Summary: Meeting the real Sam and Dean Winchester was dangerous enough, but what about Demon Dean?

Sam caught Demon Dean.

You listened as the screams erupted from the far away dungeon. Sam had found Dean as a demon and was working on curing him. The entirety of your being was filled with horror. When you tried to tell them that Dean would escape and try to kill Sam, you froze up. That meant you had to hide as soon as things turned south, unable to give them any more information.

Suddenly the lights flickered off. Your breath stopped and you felt tears begin to form.

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Well, it’s been a year. Okay, not quite, but it’s Wednesday, so almost a year.

(J’écris en anglais, parce c’est pour tout le monde, mais gros bisous à mes collègues baguettes qui en ont bien besoin, ne serait-ce qu’à cause de la météo un peu merdique.)

A year ago, it was Wednesday too. Which means I spent way too much time on Tumblr, turned off the radio around 10, puttered about the house, then drove with the Best Beloved to the nearest Big City for the weekly shopping. We chatted for the 40-minutes ride, so I didn’t turn on the radio in the car. Had a sandwich on a bench, watched people go by, kind of thing. The store always has TVs on display; right now they all showed the same news channel. When I saw the caption “attentat à Charlie Hebdo” I thought they had found whoever had thrown a firebomb on the premises four years ago. “Attentat” can be translated as “criminal attack”, which is why it covers both explosions and shootings. And then I saw another caption with four of the victims’ names and went “WHAT!?” I think I startled a lot of people.

We must have stayed three minutes in front of those TVs, the Best Beloved and me, stunned, like someone had hit us over the head with a plank. Then we resumed our shopping, because fridges don’t fill up by themselves - although it would be nice if they did, albeit a little suspicious.

It was 5 PM when I could finally turn on the radio in the car to know what the hell had happened. And then the waterworks started. People crying on air. Journalists with voices shaking. This happened. Twelve people were brutally slaughtered, with war weapons, because of cartoons. The murderers are still at large.

I drove 10 km/h under the speed limit to get home. That day I found out that you can, in fact, drive while crying, but only if you’re really, really careful.

That night I felt like drawing, but couldn’t. I went on Facebook. I went on Tumblr. I found out there was actually a large number of French people here. I reblogged cartoons. I wrote stuff. My mutuals were incredibly supportive.

The next day, a third terrorist shot down a policewoman, and the day after that, he murdered four people and took seventeen more hostage in a kosher supermarket. And while we were still reeling from the grief and shock, influential people on Tumblr, who didn’t understand a thing about French history and culture, took one uneducated look at some Charlie Hebdo covers and decided we were all a bunch of racists and that those old cishet white guys had it coming.

Because they drew cartoons.

We answered with words, facts, tried to explain, educated, put into context. Some French people got so much anonymous hate it made them go off Tumblr completely. Fake SJW inundated the “#je suis Charlie” tag with hate. We regrouped around another tag, “#upthebaguette”, which was mostly used to talk about Kaamelott or chocolatines/pains au chocolat and a lot of things that we don’t usually talk about on Tumblr because it would mean writing in French. That didn’t go well, either. Not only were we racist scum, but also racist scum who didn’t even have the decency of posting in English. They looked at our French posts, not understanding more than a few words, and the French bashing continued.

The concept of “laïcité” is both simple and immensely complicated, but if I could sum it up, I would say this: religion has no place in French administration, because administration has to be the same for everyone. Everyone has the right to get married, get tried in court, have an education (free of charge, compulsory and “laïque”), without any distinction of any kind. It doesn’t mean we are all the same, it means we are all equal and the law of the Republic applies to everyone in the same way. It’s forbidden to wear a hijab or a cross in school (not counting universities and some private schools), but if somebody tears your veil from your head in the street, that’s assault and you can press charges (with mixed results, no doubt, but at least this is how it’s supposed to work. No system is perfect, unfortunately…) If you need to have an abortion, and a perfect stranger decides that you can’t because it hurts their religious feelings, well, too bad for them.

Blasphemy is not a crime, nor a felony, nor a misdemeanor in France. It’s not punishable by law. Assault or libel against a person, now? That is punishable by law.

To my mutuals, followers or the people who are neither, who either reblogged posts, wrote supporting messages or even just kept silent because they wanted to know more about everything before forming an educated opinion, THANK YOU. I can’t thank you enough. You made all the difference in the world. Without you those few days would have been even more of a nightmare than they were. You kept me and a lot of people from thinking “This is how the Tumblr hivemind thinks, this is what they all are and how they see us.” I wish I could hug every single one of you in person so bad.

To those who blogged without taking two seconds to think, who wrote and said that the victims had it coming, that okay maybe killing is a little extreme but that’s what you get for being offensive, who sent anonymous messages about how you were not Charlie and insulting us who were, you are the scum of the earth and I will neither forgive nor forget you as long as I live. Especially the absolute hypocrites who play social justice warriors and fight slut shaming and victim blaming only when it’s convenient for them. We were in tears and looked to you for comfort, and you kicked us in the stomach while we were down.

Nobody should ever get killed, assaulted or threatened physically for writing or drawing. Nobody. Period. Even arseholes have a right to safe speech. And people have the right to mock them if they want.

Je suis Charlie, et je le reste.

Outside part 2 | a danisnotonfire imagine

part 1 

The time Dan and Phil were on stage was incredibly short, about 15 minutes max but it was quite entertaining. They played ‘how well do we know each other’ and it was apparent they were best friends with how detailed the questions were. After their portion of the show had finished Simone was ready to go home and so was I.

“Why were you walking around with Dan?” Simone asked. I knew this would come up in conversation eventually but I had some questions myself.

“We were looking for you” I explained deciding to look into this whole ‘danisnotonfire’ thing myself.

“So, you guys are friends now?!” She exclaimed very excitedly.

“No, Simone. That was a once of thing, as I said we were just looking for you. I’ll probably never see him again in my life.” A small part of me was strangely upset about the words I just spoke, I’m not sure why.

“Well I think you guys would make a cute couple.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

“Well I think you’re an idiot” I laughed “let’s go home before it gets too late.”

With that we made our way to the exit and began the trip home. It wasn’t long but it was long enough for Simone to fall asleep and for me to have to carry her off the train and then up to our 2 bedroom apartment. She went to bed immediately which gave me time to have a bit of an internet stalk without been harassed. I opened up my laptop and typed in ‘danisnotonfire’ in google. What I found was astounding.

This guy was practically famous! There was a Wikipedia page, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, YouNow, BBC and various other sites that seemed to be fan based mainly on Tumblr. But the site I was most interested in was Youtube which was right as the top of the search unsurprisingly. The link took me directly to his channel and the first thing I saw was that he had 4,000,000 subscribers. 4,000,000 that’s an unfathomable amount of people, it’s like a small country of people, he could potentially start up a small sovereign nation if he really wanted to. The next logical thing to do would be to watch one of his videos.

Fuck he was funny, I ended up watching a lot of his latest ones and a couple of the first few. Turned out he was relatively relatable in most aspects of life especially the ‘I mumble’ video, I understood that one on a more spiritual level than any of the others. I came away from this video watching session feeling like I know more about him than I should seeing as I only met him for about 5 mins today, but then again how many of these 4 million people can say they have even spent 5 minutes with the boy? Not many.

I decided it was time to call it quits then, I’d get Simone to explain more in the morning. It was about 1am and I still wasn’t tired, that’s what I get for working shift work I suppose. I fixed myself up some food and sat down on the couch, I began looking around the place. I could never get over how strangely this flat was set out, I mean, we’ve been here for about 2 months but the way there are only 3 rooms against one wall then the rest is set out like a studio was just so weird.

I began watching one of my favourite TV shows when I heard my phone go off in my bag that was across the room on the breakfast bar. It’s amazing how in tune you become to the sound of your phone when you’re so used to bad things happening whenever it rings or you get a text message. I knew the likely hood of that happening was very small here but my ears still pricked up like a dogs and I became immediately anxious.

Once I had turned the TV off and all the lights I grabbed my bag and headed to my room which was right next to Simones but separated in the middle by the bathroom, she was the only one who used it as I had an ensuite attached to my room on the other side. I grabbed my phone out of my bag and tossed it on my bed without looking at it yet, it was stupid to be so hesitant but it was either work or my parents. Neither of which I wanted to hear from right now. I hadn’t made many if any friends yet so it couldn’t be anyone I knew from around here.

I got ready for bed and climbed in then picked up my phone and took a deep breath before pressing the home button which would reveal the messenger. I closed my eyes pressed the button and opened them to reveal one single message on the lock screen.

You can’t hide fore…

Exactly what I was expecting. I swiped the message to read the rest of the threat then subsequently deleted it straight after. I put my phone down on the nightstand and crawled into bed letting a few tears escape before drifting off to sleep.

I was half asleep and thought I had dreamt it when I heard my phone go off again. I grabbed it in my hazy state and pressed the home button it to see who it was from without unlocking it. I had to rub my eyes to see the name but once I saw it clearly I shot up to a sitting position in my bed and stared at it for a second.

Dan The creepy guy who helped y…
Well? Hah

Was all I could see. 

a/n keep going? let me know what you think? xx

burntredhead  asked:

Hey girl! I follow you on IG and saw that you recently got engaged, congratulations!!! I'm so happy for you💕Would you mind sharing the story of how you met Andrew, when/why you started liking him, and how you two got together? Btw, I've been following your blog for like, forever now and you helped inspire me to go vegan (although I'm not sure if you're still vegan or not), to stick at it with my writing career, and a whole bunch of other things too. Thanks love!! xoxo

Oh, thank you so much!

(I’m just gonna insert this picture here because I hadn’t realised I didn’t share it to Tumblr. Sorry to hijack your question!)

Andrew and I first met at a Halloween party in 2012, it was the third one I’d been to in like a fortnight so I put very minimal effort into my costume - skeleton bodysuit thing and some really half-assed makeup - but the first he’d been to, so he put in a shitload of effort; he was dressed as Dora The Explorer in tiny purple shorts, a pink crop top and a fucking Dora piñata on his head. In hindsight he’s very lucky he has such a sparkling personality ;)

We spent a lot of time that evening hanging out, we clicked instantly and conversation flowed very naturally. I wanted to kiss him at that party but it wasn’t ~that type of party~ and he’s also not that kind of person. Anyway I got super fucking smashed and he actually drove me home that night, which was very sweet. We exchanged numbers and, weirdly, we put exactly the same emoji next to one another’s name in our phones. *fate*

I then went to Vietnam and we would talk pretty frequently over Facebook, I came home and invited him to a party at the crack den of a sharehouse I lived in at the time, he offered to hang out with me on my birthday and I declined (rude!), then he invited me to a New Year’s Eve party and I went, but I had more parties to go to that night (again, rude!!!) so I left pretty early. He CLAIMS he would have kissed me at that party, but he’s super shy so I still don’t believe him. He was very drunk though, and he made me a VERY strong drink of gin, so who knows. I should have stayed at that party, because that night for me ended up with forcing myself to throw up on a shower floor because in the heat of the moment I decided to take some magic mushrooms and I wanted them the FUCK out of my system before they took effect. Word of advice: pulling soggy magic mushrooms out of your own throat when you’re shitfaced drunk naked and soaking wet is a TERRIBLE idea. Don’t do it.

So then we hung out a couple more times, I liked him, he’d told me he liked me but was going through a rough patch so we were just ‘seeing each other’ as he claims, but I wasn’t made aware of this so I thought we were just friends. Oops. I then went to England for three weeks, we were talking and Skyping every day, I Skyped him from the bath and accidentally flashed him which he thought was deliberate, etc. This is where things got super flirty; I specifically remember him telling me he would “kiss me with the fury of a thousand suns” when I got home, he also wrote me a couple of poems which I still have somewhere, it was all just very cute.

He came over the day I arrived home, jetlagged to all fuck, kissed me and then said, “Well, I suppose I should ask you to be my girlfriend now”, dorky shit.

As for what I originally liked about him - it’s just been so easy since the moment we were introduced. We’ve had really tough times, probably tougher than most young couples I’d say, but the communication itself was never hard; being around one another was never hard; it always felt, to both of us, like we were talking to someone we’d known forever. Finding out about each other fascinated us, we’ve spoken about this at length in the years since then, but we both considered the other person the most interesting human we’d ever met, even before we knew one another inside and out. I think sometimes, when you’re soulmates, you don’t really have to think about it, it just happens.

We’ve liked each other from the night we met, and now we’re gonna get old and gross together with gold rings on our fingers to prove our love, which I think is pretty fucking amazing really.

Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment, it means the absolute world to me that I was able to inspire you! Have a wonderful day :D xo