Writer says: So I had this crazy idea one day and I just had to work on it. Here ya go!

Writer means: So I had this crazy idea either right before getting in the shower or right before falling asleep so I grabbed my fucking laptop and shat all over it to create the steaming pile of crap that I now lay before you. I don’t even know if it’s good anymore. I haven’t slept in two days.

Writer says: Wow, real life’s getting busy! Sorry on the slow updates.

Writer means: My life is a literal storm of shit at the moment. Why did I decide to do this. Why am I still doing this. Everything around me is spinning out of control and I am staying up ‘til 5:30 in the morning every night to create a piece of work that will only get two comments and 12 demands for quicker updates. I hope no one’s mad at me, all I wanted to do was write.

Writer says: Wow! Would you look at that! I updated on time! Please enjoy!


Writer says: This chapter was a toughie. Glad it’s finally done!

Writer means: I don’t know if this is good or not. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’ve read the same words over and over and over again and I just couldn’t look at it anymore. My beta said it was ok but I’m not confident but HOLY SHIT I JUST NEED TO STOP WRITING THIS FUCKIGN CHAPTER.

Writer says: Thanks for reading!

Writer means: Please, oh please oh please oh please leave me a review. A comment. Anything. Please tell me you’re out there. Please tell me someone is reading this.

Writer says: I just want to say that real life is getting pretty hectic right now. Please try to be patient with me, I know you guys want updates. Thanks! :)

Writer means: FUCK. YOU. Who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from me?! You don’t know my life! I have a very busy life! I create shit for free, you entitled son of a pig-fucker! STOP LEAVING ME COMMENTS TELLING ME TO UPDATE SOON OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUKE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER 

Writer says: What’s gonna happen next? Who knows? Hee hee ;)

Writer means: I have no fucking clue what the next chapter is going to look like. What’s my plot? I don’t know. I feel no emotion.

Writer says: Please leave a comment! It helps me write!

Writer means: I am begging you to leave me a comment because I swear it’s the only thing that’s keeping me motivated right now, I hate the work I put out and I need reassurance that people are actually enjoying this.

Writer says: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, big things are coming up! ;)

Writer means: Buckle up bitches, someone’s gonna die.

Writer says: I know I’ve missed a few updates, but I swear I plan on finishing this story! 

Writer means: *high pitched eternal screeching*

Writer says: Here we are at long last! This has been one wild ride. I want to thank you all so much for your support and love, I adore each and every one of you. I am so happy to say that this story has come to a wonderful close.

Writer means: My body is numb. Voices call out to me from the void, but I can no longer hear them over the beating of my racing heart. I am stressed to the point where I feel no relief. The story is done. It’s fucking DONE. I loved it, I hated it, it was a fucking storm of horror and pain. I can no longer see color. Now I can at last relax and…wait……wait a second………..holy shit I just thought of the best idea for a one-shot that’s totally gonna turn into a 50 chapter slow burn AU fic leT’S FUCKING DO THIS

College!AU in which Dean and Cas play for rival baseball teams


A lil hurt comfort for a friend

This is for @the-sanders-sides bc they have a lovely voice and was responsible for this idea. It’s not my best, (I’m kinda running on fumes atm and this was hard to write for some reason haha) but it is finished! so that’s something.

If someone asks, I can probably edit it to be spoiler free!

Descrip: logxiety, background morince, they watch frozen and it’s real fluffy

Warnings: swears, insecurities

Anxiety had made an art of avoiding Disney night, if he could help it. It started out as movie night, which quickly devolved into musical night, then Disney night. Of course, they still had regular movie night at least once a night, which was fine, since it usually didn’t involve all that… singing, but disney night was hell. Not because of the movies, but because of the company.
The other sides were probably the worst people you could imagine to watch a movie with. Roman, predictably, knew every second by heart, and insisted constantly that “OH! This next bit is my favorite! Anxiety, are you watching? Are you watching it? You better be watching it-”
As if Anxiety didn’t know the movies twice as well as he did, anyways. But even worse was the singing. Constant. Singing. He was nearly convinced that Roman had choreography for every single number from the golden age to now.
Roman was the worst, but Patton was a close second. Patton… was a crier. He was also completely complicit in Romans choreography plot.
Anxiety pulled his legs up onto the couch to avoid getting twirled into by both of them. It was frozen night.
It was definitely Anxieties guilty pleasure musical, one of the ones that he sang to himself when he couldn’t sleep. Unfortunately, Patton caught him watching it. Now they HAD to have a ‘bonding experience’, apparently. They had actually made it all the way to 'Love is an open door’ before Roman actually started dancing.
(He took hans’s part, while Patton took anna’s. Anxiety would never let him live this down.)
Now he was huddled in a corner, hiding in a cave of blankets, trying to see the screen around Roman swinging Patton around the coffee table.
Thank god for Logan, the only not-dancing-idiot in the room. Logan didn’t usually come to these either, or at least he multitasked. (Annoying in its own way, but less so.) Anxiety got the feeling that Patton had given everyone the 'now, we’ve got to try to include him’ talk, which made him a little sick to his stomach.

Trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth, he turned to Logan. He was watching the other two dance around the room, a small smile on his face. Anxiety knew from the way he sat up a little every time Roman almost flung Patton across the room, or Patton tripped a little on the carpet, that he was trying to keep them safe, without ruining their fun. His tie was loose, his eyelids drooping. Anxiety pulled the blanket closer around him like a fuzzy fortress.
/conceal don’t feel- holy shit that’s cliche I need to stop./
His could feel his face heating up, and tried to focus back on the movie. It was almost time for the big number. He expected Roman to stay standing, but he flopped down on the other sofa, pulling a giggling Patton down with him. Watching the other two sides curl up next to each other made something deep in his chest start hurting. He ignored it, focusing on the song.

/The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a foot print to be seen.
A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I’m the queen/

He knew it was cliche. He knew it. But something in him really loved the song. It was… lonely. He could understand that.

/The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside. Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried./

He saw Logan turn to him out of the corner of his eye. By the time he realized he was singing, it was too late. Everyone was looking now. The song went on with out him. He sat petrified on the couch, face turning red.

/conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know./

He really hated dramatic irony.

Logan was the first to speak. “Anxiety-”

Every atom in his body was filled with nope. He was 100% nope.
He shot out of the room like a rocket, nearly tripping on his blanket. He didn’t want to stick around to hear them laughing at him. He locked the door to his room as fast as he could, and collapsed against it.
Anxiety did not sing. It wasn’t his job. If he did sing, it definitely wasn’t disney. It was like, evanescence or something. Not frozen, of all things. He burrowed further into the blanket. Someone knocked on the door.
Logan. Great. They had just started getting along. Now Logan hated him as much as he hated Princey. Probably more. Anxiety wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
“Did I… did we do something wrong?”
Great. Now they thought it was their fault.
“No. Go away.”
He sounded like a child. He heard something move just outside the door, and something put a gentle weight on it, like Logan was sitting on the other side. But sitting on floors was not a thing Logan did. Right?
“Look, I embarrassed myself, ok? You can all make fun of my later, for now just… leave me alone.”
He swallowed as many sobs as he could, waiting for the other side to go away. Just when he thought Logan might be asleep or something, he heard a quiet voice.
“do you want to build a snowman?”
Logan was… singing? His voice was rough, and a little off key, the words too formal for the character.
“Or. Uh, something something… halls…”
Logan cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I’ll- I’ll just go-” Anxiety whipped the door open, causing Logan to fall flat on his back into the room. “Are you making fun of me because I will not hesitate to crush your skull like a watermelon.”
Logan looked up at him, blinking. “I am not.” He said firmly, readjusting his glasses. Anxiety narrowed his eyes. “Then why’d you do it?” Logan looked… pinker than before, but it may have just been the light. “I… came to the consensus that you may have been… vulnerable when you sang. The best way to lessen vulnerability in others is to open up yourself… Was I… was I correct?” Anxiety rubbed the last of his tears off his face with his sleeve, extending the other hand out to help Logan up.
“…..Yeah. Got it in one.”
“I still don’t understand that saying-”
“Shut up and watch the rest of the movie with me.”
“Vocab word?”
“Vocab word.”


My old college roommate Erin is a total sweetheart. She’s a very green, flower child-type woodland fairy of the forest kinda gal (does that make sense?) and you can always count on her to make your day so much better.

Of all the social media platforms, I love Twitter (and Tumblr, of course, because y’all are awesome. It’s connected to my Facebook account, which I now only use to post articles to because no one cares about my status updates. I don’t even care about my status updates. Anyway, Erin messaged me the other night and she said to me: Esra! You’re wonderful and funny and you should be a comedian! Why aren’t you a comedian?! Your tweets always make me smile.

While I am by no means ever trying to impress anyone on any platform, it feels great when someone things I’m funny. Growing up, I used to be very closed off and people assumed I was mean, but really — I was just shy. After I went to Emerson, I found my place, my people, and I started opening up more. I embraced the Liz Lemon that was always inside of me and just let loose and had more fun.

Twitter is a great place for me to practice my one-liners because, as you may know, I would love to write and produce my own sitcom someday. Billy Wilder, Tina Fey, Christopher Guest, Margaret Cho have been my idols for as long as I can remember and they inspired me to go down this path of hilariousness. 

I guess I’ve got that special something, huh? Especially if a funny friend of mine is messaging me to tell me, “Hey! You’re funny. Do something with it!” I’m trying. I really am. It’s just hard because, as a writer, I get into the zone, write five great pages, reread them, and think to myself, “This is shit. You’re garbage.” I need to stop doing that…

Not What It Looks Like!

Jack tried his best to not get too jealous when it came to Joe, and he liked to think he was getting better at it, after all, they had been together for five years now.

But there was still one person that he couldn’t control his jealousy around, not when Joe was still so close to him, and had left their past relationship so vague.

Caspar Lee.

Which really, was unfair to Caspar, because Jack did like the South African, and considered him a good friend.

But when he and Joe hung out….well, Jack thought his boyfriend was different with Caspar, acted in a way that he didn’t around anyone else, not even Jack. And that didn’t sit right with him at all.

So when he walked in to the room to see Joe and Caspar pulling apart quickly, their cheeks flushed, Jack couldn’t help the burst of jealous anger that glared up in his chest.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Joe blurted out, “I swear!”

“Then please, explain.” Jack bit out, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes at Caspar, who shifted slightly under the gaze.

“We were…well, we…” Joe stumbled over his words, his hands flailing in front of his as his eyes darted over to his former roommate before falling back on his boyfriend.

“Ah, yes,” Jack drawled, “It all makes so much sense now!”

“I…I mean, well….we….Caspar?” Joe finished weakly, pleading silently for help with the explanation.

“We weren’t doing anything!” The blonde said quickly, fiddling with the end of his shirt, “We were….well, we….”

“Any time one of you actually wants to tell me what you were doing would be just grand,” Jack shifted his gaze over to Joe, but his boyfriend had his eyes locked on the floor.

Neither of them offered anything else, and that stung Jack. Because apparently his jealousy was right for once.

“Fine. I see how it is.” Jack nodded once spinning on his heel and storming out of the room, very aware of when Joe didn’t come after him.

Hours later there was a knock on the front door, and after pausing the movie he had playing, Jack pushed himself off of his couch and made his way over to the door, swinging it open.


“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” Caspar asked softly, his eyes shining nervously.

“Actually talk? Or just let you splutter out random words?” Jack snapped, softening when the other man flinched back. “Fine. Come inside.” He turned away from Caspar and headed back into the flat, leaving the door open.

Flopping into the corner of his couch, Jack watched Caspar shuffled over, taking a seat gingerly on the other end.

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“We really weren’t doing anything.”

“Then why isn’t Joe here explaining that to me?” Jack shot back.

“Because he thinks you’re mad at him.”

“Should I be mad?”

“No.” Caspar shook his head quickly, “You have no reason to be mad.”

“Then why couldn’t either of you tell me what the hell was going on?!”


“For crying out loud,” Jack sat up on the couch, “Caspar, just spit it out! If Joe is cheating on me with you, than just bloody tell me so I can end things!”

“What!” The blonde’s eyes widen, “No! You can’t break up with Joe!”

“If he’s cheating on me I’m not going to stay with him.”

“He’s not cheating on you!”

“Then what was he doing with you that neither of you seem to be able to tell me?!” Jack fires back.

“He was asking me for help on proposing to you!” Caspar finally shouts, his mouth snapping closed instantly.

Jack can’t do anything but blink, shocked by the words that just came from the man sitting across from him.

“Shit,” Caspar muttered, “You weren’t supposed to know that.”

“He….he’s proposing?”

“Yes….oh gods, you don’t want to marry him do you? Shit! I need to stop it then. He’ll be heartbroken.” Caspar starts to ramble, “He was so excited, but nervous, because he wanted everything to be perfect. You’ve been together years, so he figured you wanted too, and apparently you have both talked about it, but if you don’t want—“

“Caspar!” Jack cut off the blonde quickly, “Shut up!”


“You don’t have to stop anything,” He smiled, “I just…well, you saw where my mind went. I thought he was bloody cheating! Not proposing!”

“But, you want to marry him?”


“Really?” Caspar perked up at that.

Laughing, Jack nodded, “We’ve been together for nearly five years. We live together. And I love that man with all of my heart. Of course I want to marry him!”

“Oh good,” Caspar sat back against the couch, “That’s a relief. But you can’t tell him you know!”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

An hour after Caspar leaves, Joe finally comes home, hands in the pocket of his hoodie, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hi,” He smiled over at Jack.

“Hi, babe.” The younger man dropped a quick kiss on Joe’s lips before continuing to plate the take out he ordered.

“Are you still mad?”

“No. And I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“You weren’t,” Joe shook his head, “I know how you are with Caspar.”

“I still shouldn’t get so jealous after all these years. It’s ridiculous,” Jack pointed his fork towards his boyfriend, “And I should trust you. I do trust you.”

“We really weren’t doing anything.”

“I know.”

Joe nodded, his eyes following the movements as Jack finished plating their food, placing it on the counter in front of him.

“He told you, didn’t he?”

Jack froze, meeting the blue eyes he had fallen for all those years ago.

Sighing, Joe shook his head and disappeared from the room.

Unsure of if he should follow or not, Jack waited, tapping the fork in his hand lightly on the counter, stopping the action when Joe reentered the room, a small box in his hand.

“I had this huge thing planned, well not huge, because I know you want it small and intimate, but I had something planned,” Joe moved the box back and forth in his hands, his eyes on the floor, “And I was getting Caspar to help me put the plan into action, and I was so excited that I hugged him, which is when you walked in, and I couldn’t tell you that I was planning the blooming proposal, but then you thought…well, I don’t know what you thought—“


“Really?” Joe looked at Jack, who shrugged, “Anyways, you thought I was cheating on you with Caspar. I’m sorry, but really?! He’s with Maddie!”

“Joe, the proposal…” Jack pointed at the box the older man was still playing with.

“Right. So anyways, I couldn’t tell you, but neither could Caspar, and you left, and I thought you were so mad. But now you know and the plan is ruined.” Joe took in a breath, his shoulders rising and falling before he placed the box, lid open, on the counter, “Jack Maynard, this is the shittiest proposal ever, but will you marry me?”

Laughing, Jack moved around the counter towards Joe, wrapping his arms around the other man to pull him closer, pressing his lips against the familiar ones in a sweet kiss.

“That was the most perfect way of proposing to me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Joe asked, his nose scrunching up, “I didn’t even get to say my little spiel!”

“But it was very us. And yes, I’ll marry you.” Jack answered, his smile growing as Joe wrapped his arms around the younger man’s neck, dragging him in for another kiss, the excitement displayed in the action.

“And for the future,” Jack spoke once they broke apart, “Don’t ever get Caspar to help you again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Joe laughed, kissing his fiancé once more.

All I Need Is You (Intro)

Summary: Dan has always been a goody-two-shoes wallflower. He’s never gone out of his comfort zone once in his life, always living in his happy world bubble. Phil is a realist, a punk with an agenda, never one to settle down. When these two troubled souls finally collide, their lives just might change forever.

Paring: Danisnotonfire & AmazingPhil

Genres: Teenage!Phan, Drama!AU, Fluff, Smut!

Word Count: 963

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, fights, crimes, illegal drugs (marijuana), underage drinking, cursing and mentions of depression.

A/N: Hey phamalam! I’ve come up with a new fic idea that’s been bubbling in my head for quite sometime now, and I’m finally ready to post the intro. I hope this is enjoyable, this is the kind of stuff I love to write, and because I’m better at it than third person, this will be a first person story, going to diff perspectives of dnp. Please let me know what you think by liking, reblogging, and feedback! :) (also, this is pretty short bc it’s only the intro! future chapters will be longer!)

~ story under the cut~

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‘All I Do Is Imagine You Happy’

Summary : Love doesn’t simply conquer everything.

Prompt : “You know, it hurt when I realized you weren’t in love with me. But nothing can compare the pain I felt when I saw you fall in love with him”

Word Count : 1,309 words

Warnings : Angst.

A/N : I fucking hate uni, it’s draining my soul, disabling me from taking pleasure of anything. Ugh. This is from my old archive, collecting dust. Actually forgot I wrote it and it was missing the ending. So I wrote it in like 5 minutes (so it will be shit). ALSO, I might need to stop torturing our poor Chubby Dumpling.

Note that English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, point them out. 

You looked at him warily, sure that it was the alcohol talking and not him.

“You’re drunk, Buck” you remind him as you grip his body tighter to you, trying to avoid him from staggering and falling. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were still blue and clear, focusing on you huffing underneath his massive frame in the darkness of the compound.

“Not enough” he states when the two of you continue the journey to his bedroom –one that you find unbelievably long in this state. You ignore the way his hot breath tickles the side of your neck and how the tip of his nose kept brushing the same spot with every sway of a step you take. You realize then just how close of a proximity his face was to yours, and you tried to put some sort of distance by leaning your head onto your other side.

The both of you finally managed to reach his door, and you fumbled momentarily in trying to open it without losing your footing. When it opens, you bring him inside and made a move to place him on his bed.

But he stops you when he brings his free hand to cup your cheek, lightly brushing his thumb across. Though you were still supporting him heavily, he manages to root his feet on the spot.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispers. In the dark the blue in his eyes were vivid, and so was the way they were dilated.
“Thanks?” you said, lowering your head down to avoid his stare before pushing forward.

But Bucky was persistent (like he usually is) and holds you down firmly again. You didn’t look up, not wanting to let things spiral out of control. Yet it was inescapable when Bucky tilts your face upward by your chin, and you were forced to look at him in the eyes once more.

He didn’t speak, and neither did you. The two of you stare at each other with two distinctly different looks; his eyes held a great deal of longing while yours were filled with apprehension. It was when he looks down at your lips briefly before leaning in that you break the moment by avoiding the kiss.

Somehow, that manages to sober him up, and he felt the all too familiar ache begin to crawl its way back to his heart. He takes his hands off of you, swaying for just a moment before standing on his own. You swallow the lump in your throat when he took a step closer to his bed, still not wanting to look at him.

You know, it hurt when I realized you weren’t in love with me” he began, his voice clear as day. Your heart is now picking up its pace, and with every irregular beat you could feel his gaze burning at your silent form.

But nothing can compare the pain I felt when I saw you fall in love with him” he finishes his sentence, letting the tension skyrocket in the room.

You felt the sting in his words and physically wince. It was never in your intention to hurt him, because deep down you did love him –you just decided not to reciprocate. He was too important to you to be gambling into chances, so you tried to steer the bond the two of you shared safely to friendship. You wanted to tell him why you had to do it, but thought better not to. The engagement ring in your pocket weighs heavily, reminding you of your decision.

Bucky throws himself onto his bed when you didn’t respond, and let out a frustrated sigh. You never did enjoy being confronted but he had to let it out. It was unfair to him and he knows you know that.

It was when the silence was deafening did you softly spoke the words “I’m sorry”. But what good did it bring? It only reminded you of the little things you did that carried horrible consequences.
“All I do is imagine you happy –you deserve nothing less than that” you said, your voice strong even when everything inside of you was trembling, the throbbing ache getting unbearable with every beat of your heart. You didn’t have the courage to look up at him because how could you look at the man you had hurt when all he did was care for you?

Bucky was sitting upright, looking at you standing in the middle of his room with slumped shoulders, eyes practically glued to the floor. Your voice may have been strong and steady, but he notices your quivering hands.

‘All I do is imagine you happy –you deserve nothing less than that’. Your words rang loudly in his ears. He remembered then the times the both of you spent before things went downhill. He remembered eating pizza while binge watching Disney films with you and Steve. He remembers the way you sang off tune to Aladdin’s songs. He remembers you making breakfast for him, Steve and Sam after their routine jog.

‘All I do is imagine you happy’. He remembers the way you lean back with your eyes closed, laughing without a care in the world at one of Nat’s jokes during a barbecue they had. He remembers your dimples popping on each side of you cheeks when you smiled brightly as Wanda took a picture commemorating that day.

‘All I do is imagine you happy’. It was when he notices how you care for the team that he sees you differently. He recalls the times you make sure that Tony eats properly and rejoin society once in a while whenever Pepper is busy, the times you helped Clint get out of a vent when he got stuck, the times you accompany Bruce during missions. What he remembers most is how close you are to Nat and Wanda, and the image of you cheering Wanda up whenever she was upset with PIetro.

‘All I do is imagine you happy’. He remembers the times you spent making him feel welcomed to the Avenger’s family.

‘All I do is imagine you happy’.

“I’m happy with you” he says suddenly, waking himself up from his walk on memory lane. You acknowledge what he says and jerk your head up, finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes were glossy, and he could tell you were desperately trying not to let the emotions swirling inside get the best of you.

“But I’m not” you lie as you muster all the strength in you to do, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. You saw then that your greatest mistake was not being brave enough with your feelings, but something inside you rationalizes this with an excuse; that it was better this way. Two damaged souls will only leave shards of broken things in their wake. “You deserve someone better than me” you continued, each word stinging your heart, tearing your soul apart piece by piece.

Time stopped for Bucky, or rather his heart did in that moment. This is not you; the words that you’re spilling out did not belong to your tongue. It was unnatural. He didn’t, couldn’t hear what you said afterwards, didn’t want to register your final good-bye as you wiped your eyes dry, that familiar impassive façade adopted from Nat resurfacing. You were building your walls once more, and he couldn’t do anything to put a stop this time because he was trying his damn hardest to simply breathe.

A bullet to the chest would hurt less than this, you thought as you saw the destruction you made in the form of Bucky Barnes, silent and unmoving on his bed. The glassed windows reflected the City’s lights, and all you want to remember in this moment is how they flickered gently behind him.

And how you broke him.

Tagging @bexboo616 @imaginingbucky @avengersnthings @softcorehippos @minervaem @avengerofyourheart

If you want to be tagged or untagged, send an ask or comment! (: 

cutesy-poopsie | ollie

anon wanted alfie’s daughter and ollie being cute and he’s such a puppy it’s no wonder alfie adopted him as his work!son

You threw a look down the walkway before you pushed Ollie back into a row of barrels.

“No, no, no. Not here! You’re going to get me in trouble”

“Shut up and kiss me. You haven’t kissed me all day. I’m wasting away here!”

“If your dad catches us-”

“He’ll shout at you to get back to work and you’ll run off like the cute little puppy that you are. But apart from that he’s in a meeting and we’re fine for like five minutes. Minutes that are wasting away that could be spent kissing me!”

“He’ll kill me”

“He won’t kill you, don’t be dramatic”

“He will kill me. Horrifically. Over a long period of time”

You rolled your eyes and settled back against the makeshift wall.

“We need to talk about what happens when he finds out about us”

“Oh, Ollie. Sweetie. He knows about us”

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