stay close to what keeps you feeling alive

hufflepuff, the Hat calls. yellow and black cheer and your housemates welcome you with open arms and grins on their faces, and you sit by a boy that’s a year ahead of you and grins when you look shyly at him. 

(the rest of the Hall applauds politely, and you can see them forgetting you, putting you out of mind, writing you off as “one of them.”)

you watch the rest of the sorting, cheer wildly when another ‘Puff  is Sorted with you, and you follow your Prefect when they show you your dorm and explain to you, that first night, that this is the house where they value patience and loyalty, fair play and hard work. 

the first class you have, the other House sends you pitying looks and indulgent, condescending smiles, and before the day is over, after a careless comment overheard from one of the seventh-year ravenclaws, you know what the rest of Hogwarts- the rest of the wizarding world- thinks of you.

a week in, you think, fine. hard work and fair play and patience and loyalty? those aren’t exclusive to kindness and weakness. 

it takes you a month to establish yourself where you want to be. a kind word here, a small gesture there, just the right amount of smiling admiringly at a pureblood there, and you’ve become friends with a good amount of people in each house. 

(the boy from the first night corners you, one day, and says, i know what you’re doing. he grins, fierce and bright, and all edges and sharp corners. he says, let me help, and we can accomplish twice as much. 

you agree.)

the year goes by quickly, and by the end of it, you’re known as the person to go to whenever someone needs something done, anything, everything. your teachers know you’re the reliable one, the one that can always be counted on to follow the rules and do the right thing. 

second year goes by too quickly, and the boy- john- joins the quidditch team, so you do too, and you hear rumors that Harry Potter’s gone and done it again (he’s done something, but you never hear quite what, somehow, and have to read about it in the Daily Prophet, because everyone exaggerates), and you focus your efforts on widening your circle of friends.

(you widen the circle of people that you do things for, and you start to test their loyalty. little things become bigger things, and soon, you know just who to ask to obtain this potion ingredient, that bit of homework- and they all still think you’re the one doing things for them.)

third year and fourth year blur together- you’re building power, and john’s doing the same while also taking tests and starting to decide what he wants to do with his life, and your teachers look fondly at you when you ask them for help with this spell or that plant, and they don’t know that you’re storing everything in your mind- patience and hard work, that’s all that’s happening here. how many people would be able to play this game for four years, much less do it without cheating or lying? 

(because you haven’t lied, you haven’t done anything untruthful, and you don’t cheat, because when a hufflepuff is taken seriously, it’ll be because they were a hufflepuff, not someone who was Sorted wrong.)

fifth year is when it starts to fall apart, bit by bit. the tension in the school is mounting, has been, ever since the Tournament, and you remember the way you sat in the Astronomy Tower for hours when Cedric died and how john found you and the way that you resented the pitying glances that were sent your way, and the talk of how Cedric was just a ‘Puff, and he couldn’t be expected to hold his own, and how you hexed the person that told you that it wasn’t your own fault that your house was useless, because Cedric was dead because of fair play.

(which is stronger, you wonder. fair play or loyalty?

loyalty, you decide the next year when Death Eaters take over the school.)

in your sixth year, john is killed because he is a muggleborn. he wasn’t your closest friend, no, but he was the one that shared a secret with you. he was a strong, steady presence, and he was supposed to help you- or you were supposed to help him- prove that the world’s perception of ‘Puffs is wrong.

the new teachers, if they can even be called that, despise your house and look down on it, but, you find, that is an advantage in these days. you are as clumsy, as inefficient, as stereotypical as you can be, and you take their wrath (take it, because you know what you’re doing, know exactly how much the blood quills and cruciatuses will hurt, but it’s you and not someone else), and you stay walking the halls of Hogwarts even when most of the other students realize that to stay alive for the battle that will come when Harry returns they must hide in the Room of Requirement. 

after all, you weren’t sorted into the smart, clever house that knew what to do to survive, or the house that knew when to be brave and when to hide in order to be alive to be brave later, or even the house that could safely walk the halls and talk to the teachers without fear of retribution.

you were sorted into the house that talks of patience (patience, when you’re being insulted, and patience when you spend three nights in a row feeling a blood quill etch words upon your skin because you know that while you’re distracting a teacher, another student is going through their office for information), and hard work (and it’s hard work to get up in the mornings, sometimes, when you know that all that awaits you that day is pain; it’s hard work to keep up the facade of a student when you’re falling behind on your work; and some days, the only thing keeping the smile on your face is years of practice in doing things that you feel like you can’t, years of hard work), and loyalty (and the thing that keeps you here is loyalty, to your housemates, and the children- because you’re not a child, haven’t been since john died, and loyalty to your world).

you’re using the few favors you have left to claim from years of hard work to ensure that first years that are marked for pain, for torture, escape the castle safely, and sometimes, when no one can see you, you look as the ceiling in the darkness of night and think, Potter, you’d better hurry. 

the year winds on, slowly, and you grow thinner and lines that have no place on your face take up residence there, and scars begin to fill your skin. you’ve abandoned fair play altogether, because there’s a time to be fair and to not hurl minor hexes and jinxes at a teacher’s back or their shoes, and there’s a time to do so with extreme prejudice, and that time is wartime, that time is now.

then, Potter returns. 

he’s changed, from what you can remember, and so have his companions. they’ve matured, but so have you, and all you can think about is the fact that there will be fighting, and not just the kind that you and the other students have engaged in throughout this whole year. 

there’s a battle, and then, with the dead strewn around you, Voldemort calls for Potter, and the other houses react loudly and visibly, and Hufflepuff stays, quietly and calmly, and you know in your bones that this, this is what you were meant to do, to keep these not-children, not-adults alive so that they could fight, and you feel, deep inside of you in a place that’s been closed off since first year, a warmth. 

you close your eyes and then you’re awake and standing in a courtyard watching Neville- Neville, who was one of the few who showed you kindness, who didn’t underestimate you or brush you aside, who could’ve been yellow and black in another world- cut the head off of a snake and you hear pandemonium break out and you’re drawing your wand and-

you run, and as you shoot spells, you think of the hard work you’ve put into helping these people survive, the patience you’ve had to cultivate as you put long-term plans into play, and, most of all, the loyalty that kept you here, kept you fighting and fierce and sharp and all angles and no softness allowed in this harsh world, just like john’s smile when he told you he wanted to change the world, just like you, once upon a time. 

(you die in a flash of green light, quick and fierce and thrown from a wand that’s broken a moment later as your closest friend, a slytherin that had donned a spare pare of your robes days ago so that they could pretend to go home, but instead help more freely here, because who notices another ‘Puff? who notices one more dark head bent down to avoid conflict? 

you die as you lived, quick and bright and wanting to leave an impact on the world, and in the second before the green light hits your chest, you think to yourself, this doesn’t feel meaningless, and you die knowing that you accomplished what you wanted needed to.)

they come to your funeral, those who knew you, and they look at each other and say, you knew them too, and they look at each other and see different houses and different blood types and they all feel something, deep inside, where loyalty and hard work and patience rest in everyone, no matter how it’s been trampled and twisted, and they leave your funeral thinking of that. 

Hogwarts grows again, becomes a school that teaches normal magical subjects instead of torture and how to hide your weaknesses and how to draw attention from others and how to smuggle food and drink and books and people, just as it should be.

when they tell stories, everyone knows your story, because everyone’s parents had known you in some way, met you, been defended by you, spared torture by you, seen their sibling smuggled out of the castle by you, and they tell their children that Hufflepuff is the house of those who value loyalty and patience and hard work, and, sometimes, most times, but not all, fair play, but when you cross those who they give their loyalty to, you had best be on your guard, because no one, no one, has heard the war cry of a Hufflepuff and survived to tell the tale.

War Of Hearts

Request: Hi can you do another one like the recent Jace imagine where they are fighting/arguing and then Jace pins her against the wall but then it gets slightly intimate. Could you add some more stuff though thanks

Word count: 649

Jace is a stupid Shadowhunter. And, since life isn’t fair, he’s the one to train you. You knew you were a Shadowhunter since three years ago but made a very good job keeping it hidden. But when things got worse you decided to get some help, and here you are now, at the New York Institute, dealing with Jace Wayland.

“Are you tired, love?” He smirks, looking down at you. Yes, you’re lying on the ground. Again.

“I’m not tired. I’m just not good at fighting. ” And it’s the truth. You suck at fighting.

“You just need to trust me.”

“I already told you: I do trust you but you’re a very bad trainer.”

“Get up. Now.”

“No. We’ve been fighting since midday. I want to take a shower.”

“Fine.” Jace takes his coat from the small chair Izzy brought here to watch you training. “Let’s take a shower and then get back here. You have fifteen minutes. ”

When you get up to complain he’s already gone. Muttering some curses you give up and go for your shower.

He’s nowhere when you get back. You decide to sing since there’s nothing better to do.

Come to me

In the night hours

I will wait for you

And I can’t sleep

Cause thoughts devour

Thoughts of you consume

 This music came to you when you started falling for Jace. You have no idea of how that happened because somehow you do hate him. Or maybe it’s just that you love him so much that it seems like hate.

 I can’t help but love you

Even though I try not to

I can’t help but want you

I know that I’d die without you

 It’s just drama, right? The feeling that you can’t breathe when he’s out on a mission and you stay behind. Izzy likes to scare you, saying that Jace was hurt or something like that, just to make you run to his room to check if his alive, breathing, walking.

“You sing very well.”

You jump, turning around abruptly to face Jace. Great, one more reason for him to make fun of you.


“Does it mean anything?”

“What means what?”

“This song.”

“Ahn…” Closing your eyes for a few seconds, you rest your back against the wall, taking a deep breath. “Do you even care ”

“Of course I do.” Jace walks to you, keeping a small distance between your bodies.

“It’s just something I feel.”

“Tell me.”

“No way I’m telling you!” You scream like a child, breathing heavily now that he gave another step, his eyes locked on yours. “What the hell are you doing, Jace?”

“Something I should have done months ago.” Slowly he pins you against the wall, his body pressed on yours.

“By the angel, Jace, stop it.” You whisper, trying not to look in his eyes.

“Things would be a lot easier if we just say what we feel. But I’m sure that what I feel is very clear to you now. ” He says and kisses you, his lips softer than you thought. You don’t think too much before kissing him back and jumping to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I knew it would happen sooner or later.” Alec’s voice makes you both stop immediately, but you’re not fast enough to let go of Jace. Then you both just stay there, staring at a smiling Alec who will tell this to everyone in this Institute.

“Hi, Alec.” You say, shyly.

“I was going to ask if you needed any help, but I think you’re better off without me.” With a devilish smile, he leaves you two alone again.

“I think we should finish this in your room.” You say, suddenly feeling the need to be with him.

“Only if you become my girlfriend.”

“I am your girlfriend.”

“Let’s go then.” He smiles, carrying you to his room.

A/N: The lyrics are from War Of Hearts - Ruelle. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

You Said Everything
The Adjective
You Said Everything

It’s just like you to blame everything on yourself
It’s just like me to pass the burden on everyone else
I’m sorry for taking this out on you
I can’t blame you for all that I’ve been through

You said everything you need
I’m just here pretending to be alive
Don’t say another word to me
I can barely stay awake
If only I can stop thinking of you
Thinking of you

I keep closing all the windows being opened
To leave the cold air out, to keep my skin from breaking
Bury yourself underneath my skin
And tell me what its like to feel alive again

Jealous Eyes - Tony Ending

Words: 1203
(Part One) (Steve Ending)
Steve Rogers X Reader X Best Friend!Tony Stark
Request:Hello beautiful! I have a request. Can you make a Steve x reader imagine where they fight because he is jealous of her and Tony’s friendship thanks!” -Anon

“There she is! World’s greatest Mom!” Tony called out to you the next morning when you shuffled into the kitchen.

“Ughh.” You groaned before climbing up onto one of the kitchen bar stools. You laid both of your arms on the counter and buried your face in your elbows. “Why do I feel like I drank three bottles of tequilla without any of the fun memories?” You complained, not lifting your head from the table.

“I assume you remember the pretty nasty fight you and Roger’s had last night?” Even without looking at him you could tell Tony was looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t remind me.” You mumbled into the counter.

“It’s fine.” Tony promised. “You fight, you make up. It’s what you two do, but everyone knows you’re made for each other. This will pass. Just give him a few days.”

“Tony, this felt different.” You mustered the energy to lift your head. “I was up all night.” You explained, I think I slept maybe two hours. “I left him over fifty text messages and voicemail after voicemail. He didn’t return any of them.” You pulled your cellphone out of the left pocket of your sweatpants and flopped it on the counter dramatically. “Not even so much as an email from him.” Just then your phone began to vibrate violently across the marble top dramatically.

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Don’t Fear the Reaper Chapter 4: Leading a Double Life

Sam Winchester x Reader

1200 Words

Warnings: None

Read: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

As a Reaper you didn’t have to sleep, so you wandered aimlessly through Bobby’s study, trying to keep yourself occupied while you had the night to yourself.

Bobby had excused himself hours ago, heading to his bedroom, saying he was tired, but you had a feeling he was more upset about Ellen and Jo’s death than he was letting on. Dean had crashed on the couch about an hour ago, after drinking himself into an almost stupor, and Sam had offered you the guest room but you had declined. Telling you to make yourself at home, Sam had gone up, planning on getting a couple hours of sleep, a hunter’s norm.

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Playing with Death || Closed RP

{{ @darknexsurrounds }}

“So, how do you like the feeling of dying?~”

The playful and sadistic voice came from behind the dying person, who laid crippled on the ground. Yimira quickly came in view with a large, scythe in hand as he giggled to herself. 

“Well, I guess this isn’t the best thing seeing as how I’d love to have a plaything like you…” She mused, looking over the hurt body with thought. “Well, how about you tell me what keeps you going - what makes you strive to stay alive right now? I’d love to know what a pretty, crippled young thing is thinking right about now~”

So a story about how I fell in love with twenty one pilots.

My uncle was the first person to show me the band. A lot of people came after, but he was the first. And the first song he showed me was off of their Vessel album, “Guns for Hands”. As far as the rest of the album goes, “Guns for Hands” isn’t the strongest, IMO, but it’s still one hell of a song.
So I start listening to them more. I go back and I listen to parts of their “Regional at Best” album, and I like it a lot. In fact, anything they’ve done I start to like. I watch interviews, read articles, so I really start to follow them and enjoy them, but I didn’t really consider them to be my favorite.
Now a slight departure; I was about six years old when I had my first experience with death. My great grandfather, Ray Thacker, passed away in a hospital bed after a stroke. I had never lost a pet or lost anything or anyone before, and up until that point, I had always kind of assumed death was a concept for movies to push the plot along. But nope, it was real, and I learned that night my dad came into my room a teary mess that death happened to everyone, and no one comes back from it.
It hit me hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I would go to bed and cry every night because I was so afraid I would die. I never even knew my grandfather that well. But he was alive. And then he wasn’t. So I partially attribute that, my first true acknowledgement that life is finite, to what caused me to have depression.
I was bullied. Kids would be cruel and call me names, and I grew used to it. I think I was about 12 when I became nihilistic; if life ends, then that means everything that happens in it will end too. It’s pointless and all of its struggles are just as pointless. I started losing my sense of self, and, if being honest, my sense of being.
Fast forward again to twenty one pilots.
I’ve listened to every song on Vessel except for one. “Truce” was a song I purposefully avoided for so long. Being truthful, I don’t know why. I think it was because it started so differently than the other songs on the album, and it felt very out of place to me (especially for the last song on the album). But one night I’m having a bit of an existential crisis. I start thinking of all of the people I love and how they’re all going to go one day, and I can’t even breath or blink right. I felt so fucking pathetic. I was pathetic. Or at least you couldn’t have convinced me otherwise.
And so I put on “Truce”. Again, no idea what had compelled me. But it was 14:43 in the morning (I keep my phone on military time), and I play the song, and I’m listening to it for the first time. And I swear to you I’ve never cried harder. My eyes were relieved from the tears I’d been desperately trying to force, now flooding. My throat was released from its horrid suffocation. I wasn’t sad anymore. The first time in a long time.
Because to me, “Truce” is a song about how life is meaningless, but how that doesn’t make OUR lives meaningless. We are born from oblivion and die into oblivion, but what we choose to do with life-in the flash of color and sound and feeling we are experiencing right now, this pinprick of light in the darkness of nothing that so few of us are lucky enough to experience, so rare enough to be privileged with- is our meaning. We give meaning to the meaningless.
There are three lines that make me tear up to this day; “Now the night is coming to an end/the sun will rise and we will try again” tells me that yes, sadness and depression and anxiety do come frequently and often, but they also go as much. And while the sun is risen, we have to do our best to brace ourselves for the night, and to appreciate what tomorrow teases, not promises.
“I will fear the night again/I hope I’m not my only friend” Depression is scary. You feel hopeless, alone, like the void is closing in and all you want to do is embrace it just to get it over with. But at the same time, this darkness is more crowded than you think; you aren’t alone, there are more people like you, just like you, that are feeling similar, if not the same, things you’re feeling. The hopelessness you have is felt by people who are too afraid to continue, but too afraid to give up. And the void is closing in. It’ll happen. But don’t think it’s personal. There’s a whole lot of people in its grasp, just like you, and they are just as scared.
“Stay alive, stay alive, for me/you will die, but now your life is free/take pride in what is sure to die” I feel like he wrote this not just to plead for people to keep going, but also to let us know that he’s heard the same thing from people who wanted him to keep going. And yea, you’re gonna die. I’m gonna die. Everybody on this earth will at some point perish. But if you can look past that, then life begins. And the fact that life is so brief, preceded and followed by two vast and incomprehensible infinities, is what makes it worth living. The fact that you only get the few blinks of an eye that life is to make it mean something to you.
Yea, I know, those three lines make up the whole song. But listen to it and I think you’ll get it, too. I can’t say that I’d be near as mentally healthy as I am today without “Truce”, without twenty one pilots. Because once I heard “Truce”, I started to understand the rest of their music. They haven’t cured my depression. I don’t think anything ever could. But twenty one pilots came close. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Title: and i haven’t found a drop of life
Fandom: The Raven Cycle 
Pairing: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Summary: “Ronan,” he whispers, and his voice sounds like Cabeswater’s enchanted air.

He is a solid weight beside you, keeping you warm and safe. He leans in for a kiss as you slide your arms around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. The sound that escapes his mouth makes you feel alive and real and you can’t imagine what it is to feel alone again.
Suddenly you go cold, his hands on your chest are pushing–pushing away from you–and you can’t move.
“I have to leave,” he says, and you feel him slipping from you, as he stumbles out of your sight.
“Wait,” you say, the panic clear in your voice, “please stay, just for–”
–and then you wake up.

Or: the one where Adam dies and Ronan is a walking tragedy.

Rating: General Audiences
Word count: 1521 
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anonymous asked:

how bout some sheith with jealous!shiro

Thank you for the prompt! I’m sorry it took a while, writing can be difficult at times. 

Will I stop writing pining Shiro? Not today, apparently.

It’s something irrational, something dragged, through heavy earths and splinters, something that Shiro feels stir somewhere between his teeth and his mind, colouring with the meanest of shades; it’s like the fear of dying in the simulator, fear of the crash they’ve done week after week last year, engine failure, sounds, too loud, the ground, the embrace, the gasp of the impact stolen from his lungs, running from never there flames.

Irrational at best, escaping at worst and despite it all, he wants Keith to finds things he loves, he wants him to experience the world in ways he couldn’t before, even if there’s a cadet that takes Keith’s tips too seriously, a cadet that smiles shyly when Keith takes his elbows and changes the trajectory of his punch, when Keith grows into comfortable spaces, when he spends hours tutoring the younger ones, Shiro stuck doing reports, field exploration and not even their lunch breaks line up anymore; Keith’s already in his class when Shiro’s barely washing his hands.

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inspirational & encouraging quotes for sisters ♡ part 4!

Creative sisterhood quotes are needed for crafts, tweets, texts, decorations, recruitment, tee shirts, birthday gifts and much more. Express your sorority feelings through the use of these creative sisterly sayings. ADD your chapter name where needed and/or insert your sorority name to make the quotes even more appropriate. xoxo ;)

♡ More Motivational Quotes for Sorority Sisters: ♡

  • Be happy for this moment. This moment is your ____ life.
  • A sister loves and listens.
  • Light tomorrow with today!
  • Her laughter sparkled like a splash of water in sunlight.
  • It’s the heart that laughs. 
  • Live in the moment. Each breath you take is a gift.
  • For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision, but today live beautifully.
  • We are here and it is now. Go greek. 
  • Sisters encourage you to grow.
  • Laughter is wine for the soul.
  • Don’t compare yourself to anyone. Be original. 
  • Laughter is sunshine in this sorority house.
  • Sorority life is a great and wondrous mystery ~ don’t miss it.
  • When there is great love there are always miracles.
  • Let the world know you as you are.
  • You are the heroine of your own sorority story.
  • Life is JOY in _____.
  • Sweet remembrances grow from your dear sorority days.
  • Sisters help one another along life’s journey.
  • _____ helps me grow through life.
  • Believe in the beauty of your dreams.
  • _____ don’t do drama, we do sisterhood. 
  • Be a product of your decisions. 
  • Keep some room in your heart for _____.
  • Love is why we are sisters. 
  • We’re happy, it drives other people crazy.
  • Be the reason your sister smiles today.
  • If you want perfect, you’ve found the right sorority.
  • Stars can’t shine without sisters.
  • You are what you do ~ go greek. 
  • Sisters are friends you can do anything and nothing with, and still have the best time.
  • Keep room in your heart for some surprises. 
  • The truest sisters speak loudly in silence. 
  • Never miss a chance to dance. 
  • Stay close to the sisters who make you glad to be alive.
  • It’s really kind of FUN to be _____.
  • You were born to be real. You were born to be _____. 
  • Always be kinder to your sisters than you feel. 
  • Once you choose _____, anything is possible!
  • A smile is the best makeup any sister can wear. 
  • Sweet sister, you are loved. 
  • _____ sisters always believe something wonderful is about to happen.
  • Dear God, thanks for this beautiful sisterhood. 
  • Be classy.
  • Be you, bravely.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

• Inspirational & Encouraging Sisterhood Sayings Part 1

• Inspirational & Encouraging Sisterhood Sayings Part 2

• Inspirational & Encouraging Sisterhood Sayings Part 3

anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on Levi in this chapter?

I am terrified for him at this point honestly. 

Levi: I’ll go face the Beast Titan and keep him busy.
Erwin: Absolutely not. You can’t even get close to him.
Levi: Yah, maybe. But…as long as you and Eren stay alive, humanity will still have hope.
Don’t you feel like we’ve got no other choice but to do this?
We’ve lost.
To be honest…I’m probably not gonna survive.

What’s really troubling to me here is that Levi, a man who has been pretty confident in his abilities up to this point, is now doubting himself and doesn’t even think he can make it out alive. 

Levi: You’ve done well. It’s only because of everything you did that we’re even at this point today…
I have to make a choice now.

Levi’s also facing huge emotional dilemmas, he’s being forced to make a choice: between possibly saving the lives of some recruits or going against his own philosophy of meaningless deaths and letting Erwin finally achieve his dream, one that he has been putting off death for. This scene also reminded me of Levi’s choice that led to his friends Farlan and Isabel’s deaths back when he first joined the Survey Corps. 

Levi: Forget your dreams and go to hell - take the new recruits with you.
I’ll take care of the Beast Titan.

In the end he does choose to let Erwin carry out his plan of sacrificing himself and the new recruits, and all I hope is that he won’t regret it for the rest of his life like back then.

(all translation credit goes to @fuku-shuu)

nightmare - stiles stilinski

prompt: y/n has trouble coping after stiles was possessed by the nogitsune and allison’s death

warnings: nightmares, hints of death, sadness, creepiness??

a/n: I came up with the idea of this imagine after my friend showed me the supernatural episode “Dream A Little Dream Of Me”, so I hope you enjoy :)

P.S. This imagine is a little bit dark/creepy, so if you don’t like that, then I suggest you skip paste this! And sorry if the ending seems kind of rushed, but hopefully you enjoy! 

italics = dream

Originally posted by kunefesevdalisi

She’s gone, and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. You remember the piercing sounds of Lydia’s screams vibrate through the air, and you remember Scott’s face as he looked at the one person he loved, lifeless in his arms. You hadn’t even noticed you’d fallen to your knees until Stiles helped you up off the muddy ground. You could barely walk, your limbs were heavy and numb, it all felt like a dream, but when you woke up the next morning, and she was no where to be seen, you knew it wasn’t. It was a nightmare. 

Everyone had coped with the death of Allison differently. Scott never speaking about it, keeping every thought and feeling to himself. Lydia still trying to believe it wasn’t real, that she would come running through the door some day alive again. Stiles had coped the same way you did, beating himself up for it all, thinking that it was his fault. You told him it wasn’t, he wasn’t himself when she died and that it wasn’t fair for him to take the blame.

A lot of nights you stayed up, refusing to close your eyes because you were afraid of what you would see. The nightmare every night got increasingly worse, to the point where they felt so real that you would wake yourself up to the sound of your own screams. Your father tired to help, but there was no way he could, all you would tell him is “I just need space” because you did. You wanted to be alone, you didn’t want to the people you loved so much see you hurting as bad as you were.

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oneblockyhussar  asked:

If I might make a request: If you see / are told of Anons claiming to speak for you (ex: the "OMG u breaking Lila's green-eye headcanon!"), especially those harassing users doing so, might you tell them to sit down and hush up? Or, heck, just do so now and say "Harassing blogs with comments like 'You're just jealous', 'Lila said [x] how dare you do [y]!', and so-on will not be tolerated"? You ARE looked up to by a fair bit of the MC Community, so silence on the matter is oft taken as acceptance.

I guess I need to give a long speech.

You’ll might be surprised but silence means also that the one have NO IDEA about what happened.
Because people kept their mouths shut instead of telling me that they get hurt and then raging because I don’t help people who I don’t know at all. I got no informations about people getting hate anons because of my headcanons.

I can’t control people I’m like every other ask blogger here god damn it! How the hell can I know about everything what happens in the fandom?! There are hundreds of people and I can’t follow them all! Every time I stumbled upon someone getting hate because of shit I create I was helping them! But I’m not responsible for everyone, you’re not my kids. Also I didn’t see any danger so I didn’t react! I was creating my story, peacefully.

I’ve never even considered myself as a part of this fandom since it started to grow HUGE, and all these dramas I wasn’t part of started as well. I kept my story away from that. It wasn’t my problems.

In my opinion blogs are like fanfics, they comes from our imagination and they are our own separate stories about fictional characters. People have different headcanons, some people like to use few of mine and I’m okay with this as I am okay with completely different ones. Me and Jack also have different headcanons even if we kinda share the same story, but it doesn’t matter! The fun is what matters, the peace is what matters. I remember the times when the fandom was small with less than 10 ender ocs and we were all like a family..

This is what I always wanted for this fandom, friendships, caring about each other and tolerating each other’s ideas. But people likes to make me a bad guy for their own unknown reasons. People also like to judge other’s choices and actions even if they don’t know the reasons behind them. Some people hate because it’s fun “haters gonna hate” or because they heard a one sentence of bullshit about hooow baad is thaat persoon. It’s more comfortable than talking and asking for truth, searching for proof. Only taking the info second hand… You people must know so well and so close the actual person who you never talked with, to spread the hate and gossips around about them, huh~

I’ve been posting my point of view many times but people are idiots, and keep spreading hate without me knowing about it. I have no idea who are these people but I would personaly love to slap their faces as hard as possible for all this anon hate and making people leave their ocs. It’s fucking dumb, they can’t see that every blog can have a different story, different headcanons about a damn game made of blocks. They have no rights for doing it.

It feels like people are angry at me for creating my own oc, my own story. I am not responsible for fanatics I have no idea about.

About enderfoo. I only know the nickname. I guess we never even talked. I think I’ve never followed that blog, and people told me nothing about him/her. I have no idea what post you mean.

I closed myself to fandom, I stay away from all this shit for about year. I only continue my story, I keep my oc alive and I rp with people.

I’ve been never hating on anyone, I have never sent an anon hate and I do not tolerate it AT ALL. I have mental problems myself so I know how painful it can be.

Lila’s out.

Now leave me alone.

I’m not part of it anymore.

Dear all you social justice warriors out there. . .

You still willing to get all riled up about representation and bigotry when your life and welfare might be on the line? Because soon, it very well could be.

Barring a miracle, the American federal government is about to fall into the most regressive hands since… goddamn it, I don’t even know. I can’t recall the last time a U.S. President won on a platform this blatantly bigoted. The GOP has already won the House, and looks set to take the Senate as well. So it’s very likely that all the hard work that our country has done to get to this point is about to get a serious fucking setback.

Here’s a harsh truth: if the nightmare scenario happens, there’s not much a single person can do to change it. People like to talk about how brave those Germans who stood up to the Nazis were, or how courageous those early abolitionists who spoke out against slavery were, but the simple truth is that despite all their best efforts, the nightmare went on, and horrible things happened. You might not be able to stop what happens next. But that doesn’t mean you need to be complicit in it.

If I could make some suggestions before I drink a bunch of gin and go to sleep, they are as follows:

1. Stay Alive. Don’t fall into despair. no matter how things turn out. Stay alive, just to spit in the face of death and say “fuck you” to everyone who’d love to have you permanently out of the picture. If you’re alive, you can still do something to help.

2. Get Prepared. If you would feel better purchasing a weapon, do it, but be safe. If you would feel better learning about active resistance, go for it. Start reading up on the methods and strategies of those who have gone before. Learn from their lessons and keep them close.

3. Be Vigilant. Don’t turn a blind eye to what is about to happen. Keep your eyes open, and document the things that happen. Remember that the Internet is your strongest weapon for getting the word out. Keep the pressure up. Don’t give them an inch to get away with anything.

4. Take Care of Each Other. There are a lot of people who are going to feel or be disenfranchised. You may be called upon to protect and care for them. Whether it’s as simple as being a shoulder to cry on, or as extreme as operating an Underground Railroad, you need to be ready to do what it takes to do right by your fellow human beings.

I still have hope that things will turn around. Maybe these next four years won’t be so bad after all. But if the worst case scenario happens… well, if you’re on Tumblr, you’ve probably read enough dystopian fiction to know the tropes. 

Here’s your chance to find out where you’d fall in the story.

Welcome to the resistance.

Love is so confusing
It can be so absent yet you’re convinced it’s there and it can be right in front of your face but you can’t see it . It makes you say everything you feel to say yet stops you from saying so much. It can turn your heart into a puddle , and solidify as soon as the passion burns out . Leaving you feeling all cold . It can make you feel so good and but it could hurt so bad and sometimes it hurts so bad that it feels good and sometimes it feels so good you forget it’s hurting you so bad .
It makes me want to hold you tighter sometimes and stay as far away from you as I can during other times . It makes me brave , then it makes me afraid . It opens me up , closes me in and sometimes shuts me out . But I guess the good thing about it is that it makes me feel something no matter what . So I know that I’m alive . I know that love is keeping me alive …