I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “i’m thinking about suicide, I have a plan; I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.

I think: Your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t  see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.

But still, here you are; you’ve come over to me, banged on my door, and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”

How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: Trapped for years behind enemy lines, your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.

And you’re still saying, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.”

“A cry for help” makes it sound like i’m supposed to take pity on you. But you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.

With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.

All i’m doing is handing out sticks.

You’re the one staying alive.

—  You’re doing amazing, keep fighting (via faded-and-dreaming)
I don’t like the phrase “A cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide, I have a plan; I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.

I think: Your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.

But still, here you are; you’ve come over to me, banged on my door, and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”

How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: Trapped for years behind enemy lines, your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.

And you’re still just going “Give me a stick! I’m not dying out here!”
“A cry for help” Makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you. But you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.

With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.

All I’m doing is handing out sticks.

You’re the one staying alive.

[Taken From A Therapist’s Wall]
I never believed in love, thought it was lust and it’ll end so soon.
Never believed the story that said, “the wolf fell in love with the moon.”
I decided it was for people who believed in fairytales, the ones who could not make it through the hard sales.
But then, it happened and you came, eventhough it sounds too lame, but what power you have that a one look, makes me craving to be a chapter in your book?
The whole thing is bigger than to say you stole my heart, because the truth is, you tore me apart.
Damn, you proved me wrong and I know, I know I’ll suffer so long.
—  Infinite excerpts.
In Need of Money

I hate that I have to do this, but circumstances don’t give me that choice. This morning, I had to quit my job, the job that i was really enjoying and that had taken me months of failed applications to get.

It was taking a severe toll on my mental health, which is something that I cannot allow to spiral out of control. I refuse to put my mother and myself through that again. It’s shit that I have to pick between making money and being of sound mind.

That being said, as a result, now I’m out of an income. There’s so much going wrong in my life right now that I could be the punchline to a really bad joke. Our car is falling apart, our house is falling apart, my mom has a ton of health problems (including a so’far benign tumor on her adrenal gland and an aortic aneurysm) and she can’t work, either. It’s the 22nd of the month and we have six dollars in the bank account.

We get less than 1500 a month total from Social Security and mom’s disability, and that has to pay all the bills, buy food, and pay for gas. We’re on food stamps and our usual amount we get is roughly 20 dollars. We can buy a pound of hamburger, a loaf of bread, and some milk and butter for that. More than once we’ve had to go to the food pantry so that we can eat dinner. I’m on six different medications so that I’m stable, and as long as I can keep my insurance, I’m okay, but if I make too much money at a job, I’ll lose that, and so will my mom. If I go off my medication, all hell will break loose.

I’m not asking for much. A purchase from my RedBubble if you can, or even just a donation of a dollar or two to my paypal would help a lot. I don’t want to have to ask for anything, but I also don’t want to wind up homeless. If you can’t spare anything, a reblog would help, too.

Thank you.



Requested by anonymous

You blinked awake slowly, still disoriented from sleep.

“Wha?” you mumbled, looking around, until you spotted Wanda frozen in your doorway. “Are you sneaking into my room?”

“Ummm… Yes?” Wanda said.

“You don’t sound so sure of that.”

“Okay, well yes I was,” she admitted and you chuckled.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“Umm… I just got scared?”

“What? Why?” you asked, immediately on alert.

“The movies we watched kind of scared me.”

“Ah. C’mere,” you said, scooting over in your bed and smiling at Wanda.

Wanda seemed hesitant and you opened your arms. She seemed shy and you found it adorable.

“It’s okay. I don’t care for scary movies much either. They can be too much sometimes,” you said, hugging Wanda close.

“It’s not very fun. It’s more nerve-wracking than enjoyable,” she agreed.

“Do you want to stay here for the night?” you asked in a soft voice.

“If I can.”

“Of course you can. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Wanda smiled and laid down, cuddling to your side.

So I was talking to a guy yesterday and he was telling a story about how he waved at a girl he went to undergrad with and she scowled at him. “Why would she scowl? I thought we got along really well on the projects we worked on together.”

So I said, “Well, she probably just didn’t recognize you.”

“What, so she just scowls at strangers who wave at her?”

“Yeah. That’s what I do.”

He reacted like I’d just made some strange joke. We changed the subject shortly after that. I don’t think he understood that I was actually dead serious. It was like being on the wrong side of that tumblr meme – you know the one:

me: all our teeth fall out as children and then they all grow back stronger

alien: okay, i mean…that definitely sounds fake, but….okay.

Privilege is invisible to those who have it. I know that, intellectually, but I still feel blindsided sometimes by how fantastically oblivious men can be to how men behave. 

The last time I made smalltalk with a strange man in a convenience store he followed me to the train station and stood there staring at me, and when I switched to a different train car he  walked up and down the train looking for me so he could continue hovering and staring, and I ended up calling my landlord in a panic and having him pick me up from the station because I was terrified he would follow me all the way home. That event was not an isolated incident. It was just one example of the street harassment I’ve been experiencing, be it mildly annoying or outright terrifying, on a regular basis for my entire adult life. For my entire adult life. That’s over a decade.

So yes, I scowl at every strange man who waves at me. 

I know for someone who doesn’t live with street harassment that must definitely sound fake.

And no, it’s not okay.

honestly asian ppl are so violently anti black and im so sick of yall doing this every time i call out anti blackness in your communities

someone dug up a year old post after i called out anti blackness and yall just fuckin went with it. FOR THE 3RD TIME.

i know what i said about japanese/korean sounding similar was wrong. but lets not act like that old post wasnt dug up because i pissed off an anti black person by calling out anti blackness

yall never let me forget how much you hate black people and im so tired of it

Part 2 - CEO Luke Hemmings

Pairing: Luke & Y/N

Words: 1.643


Copyright © 2015 DestielHolmes.  All rights reserved.


“What the hell?” I woke up with the sound of my phone. “Yes?” I said as I picked up.

“Y/N I need you. I need you to come here now.”

“Mr. Hemmings? What’s wrong sir?” I asked worried it was 6am and he never called me. Someone could listen to us.

“We’ll talk when you get here.” And with that he hung up.

I jumped out of bed and dressed my black leather pants and black shirt and black leather jacket. It’s a lot of black I know but I only leave the house at night so black is perfect to not get noticed. I put my hair on a ponytail as I was walking down the stairs of the apartment. It didn’t have an elevator and I hadn’t time to wait for it anyway.

I was glad I ride I bike instead of driving a car. Bikes are faster and I didn’t have to stop in traffic.

I was at the club in less than 10 minutes. I ran down the stairs until I was at Mr. Hemmings door. I took a moment to compose myself and control my breathing. He was my boss I couldn’t just appear in front of him like a crazy woman. Only then I knocked and heard him call me in.

I thought he needed me. Just me. But almost everyone was there.

“Mr. Hemmings?” I said confused.

“She went to the police Y/N.” The girl… The girl I disfigured.

“I can take care of her sir.” I offered.

“Pfff. You can’t even take care of yourself.” Maya spat. Was she the boss too now?? “Why didn’t you just kill her? You’re so stupid! Of course she was going to the police you-”

“Enough!!” Mr. Hemmings screamed cutting her off. “I told her to do so. And you did a good job at it Y/N. But now I need her to disappear and she has the police on her ass so you need to be careful.”

“I always am sir.” I confirmed.

“Yeah right…”Maya mumbled. She’s getting on my nerves.

“Dave is going with you and these two gentlemen too. They are cleaners, I know you used to do all the work but this way it will be faster. And I want you out of there as fast as you can. They will stay behind cleaning.” He informed.

“No sir, I can help them so it’ll be faster.”

“No! You are out of there as soon as you kill her. Police is involved now I don’t want you getting hurt.” There they are again, the butterflies. We stared at each other for a while and then I nodded and walked out the door.

I could still hear her. “I’ll stay and protect you.”

“I don’t know how having sex will protect him.” I whispered and Dave and the two guys laughed.

We found her easily, we had a good hacker, I could do it by myself but that’s not my job I guess.

She moved apartments and now there were two policemen in two cars, one on the back one on the front. I didn’t get this much action since I left the organization. And this was low key action there.

We had to think of a plan to distract at list one of the policeman. Since I had to kill the girl and the two new guys would clean the scene Dave was the chosen one.

“Be careful ok?” I told Dave. He was the first person I met when I when to work for Mr. Hemmings and he welcomed me with open arms. He had this thing that he always had to go with me to protect me, it was kind of annoying but I love him, I love him like the father I never had.

“I always am Y/N.” He said smiling at me and I smiled back. I was trained not to, but he wasn’t just a college he was- is a friend.

He went to the policeman and started to ask some questions and while he was distracted we went into the building.

I opened the door to her apartment with my lockpicks and stepped in while the cleaners waited outside for my order.

“I knew you would come. I told them two police officers wouldn’t stop you.” She was sitting on the couch like she was waiting for me, waiting for her own death. I was behind her.

“Why didn’t you run then?” I asked. Normally I never talked just did my job but I really wanted to know how she just sited there waiting for her faith.

She chuckled a little before answering. “You and I both know you would find me where ever I went.”

“No… It’s not that. Everyone would try to run because there’s always a slim chance of me not finding them. It’s not that… You. You want to die don’t you?”

“When I was little my mom said I could have everything I wanted I just needed to know how to use my beauty. She taught me everything I know. She eventually died and I found an easier way to make my money but, just like everything, I needed my beauty.” She told me standing up and looking at me. It was dark but I still could see my work on her face. “Yes! I knew if I went to the police you would come after me!” She screamed. “You took everything I had in my life away from me!!!!”

I laughed on her face as I went closer to her. “I took everything?? You have food, a house, a job! Most people don’t have half. You knew the risks of doing money on your own and you took them and I just payed you back. You know what most girls ask for, when I come for them? Their life! They tell me to do anything but to let them live. They never had that chance because the word was to kill, but you? You had that chance and you didn’t take it. Maybe you do deserve to be dead. You think beauty is the most important thing in this life? You couldn’t be more wrong. You know what angers me the most? You could have lived your life for all the lives of the girls I took but you’re just a selfish bitch.” And with that I put my hand on her mouth brought her back to my chest and stabbed her or her stomach.

I went to the door and told them they could do their work. As soon as they got in a police man came to my view. He must have heard her screaming to me.

He took his gun at the same time I took mine. We fired at the same time. The two bullets got at different parts of our bodies. While my hit his head his hit me on my left shoulder.

One of the cleaners came outside running.

“You have more work to do.” I told him clenching my shoulder with my hand as I walked to the elevator.

When I got to the first floor Dave was already there.

“What the hell happen? I heard a gunshot! I had to kill the policeman so he wouldn’t come here!!” My gun had a silencer so he must have heard the other policeman gun.

“It doesn’t matter now. We need to go.” I told him.

“I’m taking you to Mr. Hemmings. And don’t even say you’ll take care of it! You got shot!!” He screamed to me.

We were at Mr. Hemmings office in no time.

“What the fuck happen?” Mr. Hemmings screamed to Dave as he put me on a couch on Mr. Hemmings office.

“I don’t know she didn’t tell me.” Dave told him.

“Oh my God!” He panicked coming to me. “Dave go call the doctor.” He commended and Dave was out the door in no time.

“Jesus princess what happen?” He asked me with the sweetest voice I ever heard kneeling in front of me.

“It’s nothing sir I can take care of it.” And it was true I learned how to deal with things like this.

“It’s nothing? You got shot Y/N!!” He screamed to me.

“I’m sorry sir. It will not happen again I was careless.” I tried to redeem myself.

“No princess it’s not that.” He said putting his hand on my cheek and caressing it. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He said again with that voice that melted my insides. Why did he do this to me? I can’t feel this! I was trained to do so.

In no time his face was inches from mine and his thumb caressing my bottom lip. “Sir.” I whispered.

“Shh. Don- Don’t say anything, just-”

“What the fuck happen? Can’t you do anything right??” Maya came screaming through the door and Mr. Hemmings stood up.

She was walking long steps in my direction. “You’re garbage.” She said slapping me. The movement of my head made my wound hurt more even though I was trained to block pain I couldn’t help the yelp that left my mouth.

“You will NEVER touch her again! Did you hear me?” Mr. Hemmings screamed on her face clenching her wrist.

I slowly stood up. 1st rule: never let someone make a full of yourself.

“Excuse me sir.” I told him and he let go of her with a confusion expression on his face. I turned to her, face to face, and punched her right on her nose. She landed on the ground and I bent down and grabbed her by the sweater collars. “You will never touch me again.” I whisper growled on her face.

“The doctor is here sir.” Dave said standing at the door and looking at me with a smirk on his face.

Copyright © 2015 DestielHolmes.  All rights reserved.

PART 3 →

So what do you think of this part? What do you think of Y/N? Do you want more? Thell me here!

anonymous asked:

Just a random question: I just graduated undergrad in December and will be beginning med school in August. I followed a few medblrs to see what they are experiencing, to be honest it kind of just made me more worried and nervous and I see a lot complaining how bad it is, but never enough to see how good med school is! (This sounds rude but I'm not trying to be!) but the short version is: is med school really hell? Does it ever feel good? I'm sure there are days worse and better than some.

Hi anon!

In general, I think people tend to remember the bad over the good.  Just as we always remember someone being mean despite encountering many nice people throughout the day. Those in medicine are all pre-selected to be driven and very hard on ourselves, so this quality is amplified. I will ALWAYS remember the pimping question I got wrong or the shitty thing someone said to me; it doesn’t matter if several people told me that I was smart today or if I got the rest of the questions right. Medblrs are not actively denying or downplaying the good. Also, I don’t know about the rest, but I feel like this is a safe community where I CAN freely speak about my fears, triumphs, and frustrations. You’ll find, when you begin med school, that the experience is impossible to explain to someone who hasn’t been through it or is currently going through it. Knowing that you have a place and good people to turn to will be essential. And I think that’s why we all feel comfortable talking about bad days, tough patients, etc.

Med school is, as I’ve experienced it, a combination of The Hunger Games meets Supernatural meets Scrubs. It’s something else. The good days are really, really good. The bad days are really, really bad. You can go from rocking your finals to apologizing profusely to your best friend for missing her wedding because your Step 1 HAS to be on the day she’s getting married. You can go from receiving shit news about your final rotation score to smiling when you see a newborn baby and beaming new parents come in for a check-up. On surgery, one minute you’re joking with a teenager who sprained his ankle and the next, you’re in the OR with a guy with multiple gunshot wounds and he’s bleeding everywhere. See what I mean? Rollercoaster!

 It’s up to us to learn, grow, and support each other through the bad and celebrate the good, no matter how brief or small the moment. If medicine always felt crappy, no one would do it! But it’s the privilege of being there for the good and the bad that makes it worthwhile to me :)

Taylor Caniff Imagine for Cara

“Taylor! Get out here now!” Dillon yelled, banging his hand on the hotel door.
“No.” He responded simply, not unlocking the door.
“See? He’s crazy. I told you.” Dillon said standing next to you. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“This is embarrassing. He’s got a show in half an hour and he wasn’t even down for sound check.” You said quietly, checking the time. You had 28 minutes now.
“He won’t tell me what’s wrong and he won’t let anyone in. I give up.” Dillon said, throwing his hands up and sighing.
“Just..tell the guys he’ll be down in a minute. Say he wasn’t feeling good or something.”
“You’re gonna get him out of there?” Dillon asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah..I think so. I’ll give it a shot.” You said, turning back to the door and knocking your fist against it.
“Leave me alone.” You heard Taylor say and then a loud thud as something hit the door. You jumped back and turned to Dillon who was already walking down the hotel hallway, shaking his head slowly.
“Tay? Babe, it’s me.” You called, your hand resting lightly on the handle.
Taylor was quiet.
“Taylor? You’ve got a show today, remember?”
“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He asked and you heard him walk toward the door.
“I came to see how you were doing, baby. I’ve been hearing some things..”
“Well, I’m..I’m fine. You can leave.”
“Babe. You locked yourself in your hotel room. No ones seen you since last night. You obviously aren’t fine.” You said, jiggling the handle a little. It definitely was locked.
“No offense babe, but I can’t talk to you right now. There’s just so much going on-”
“Bullshit, Taylor. Open this door before I break it down.” You said loudly, noticing an elderly couple was walking down the hall and gave you a funny look. You shrugged at the and turned away, embarrassed.
“So demanding.” Taylor said thoughtfully and you could hear him so clearly, he had to be only inches away from you now. But the locked door was still in place.
“This is ridiculous, come on Taylor. Let me in and talk to me.”
“I can’t.”
You rolled your eyes. “Why can’t you, did you break your other arm too?”
He laughed. “No I’m..I look like a mess right now.”
“Taylor, since when do I care? You’ve got no other excuse, now open this goddamn door before I ask to borrow that eldery man’s cane that just walked by and beat it down.”
Taylor cursed under his breath but you heard him fumbling with something on the other side of the door and then the handle turned, letting you into the room.
“Taylor!” You exclaimed, your arms snaking around him and pulling him into a hug. He looked tired, really tired, but he hugged back. His strong arms crushed you to him and he ducked his head down to bury it into the crook of your neck.
“Told you I’m a mess.” He said as you pulled back to look at him. He was wearing his boxers and a bandana and nothing else and he had a bland expression on his face.
“Not completely, you just need to get ready. You’ve got 20 minutes so hurry up, go get changed.” You said, picking your way around the clothes he threw around the room and finding something for him to wear. He grumbled but got dressed like you said and then ran into the bathroom to fix his hair and brush his teeth.
Within 10 minutes he was done and ready and standing in front of you, his face still tired. You reached up and fixed his bandana for him.
“Now smile.” You said and he blew a raspberry at you.
“Taylor, these girls adore you. They love you to death and they wanna see you happy, so smile. For them?” You asked, pinching his cheeks into a smile. He chuckled and rolled his eyes but smiled so he showed his braces.
“For them.” He said through his smile and you giggled.
“Now go get downstairs, they’re waiting for you. You’ve got 7 minutes until the show starts.” You said, pushing him out the door and closing it behind you. He started walking but stopped once he realized you weren’t following him.
“You coming, babe?” He asked, turning back to look at you.
You thought it over and finally gave in, running after him down the hall and pressing the elevator button.
You two finally arrived backstage and thanked god the show wasn’t too far away from the hotel. You snuck in the back and Dillon gave you an amazed look as they pulled Taylor away to get his mic and the schedule for the show.
“How the hell did you do that?” He asked, looking from you to Taylor.
“I threatened to break down the door with an old mans cane.”
“Yeah, well so did I but he didn’t open up for me. Wow, maybe I underestimated you.” He remarked.
“Most people do.”
“Not Taylor, though.”
“Nope, not Taylor.”
Taylor gave you a wink from across the room and walked over, towering over you. You looked up and smiled at him as he kissed your forehead, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Caniff! Stage! Now!” One of the guys said and Taylor laughed, pulling back from you and running onstage, Dillon following. Dating Taylor had its ups and downs, but you definitely loved him.

Requested by foamfriend

Like and reblog if you like it!


After RM said what he said, the atmosphere just got really awkward and idk, for me that’s better than everyone laughing it off like it was no big deal. I’m happy they didn’t laugh along because it shows they know it’s wrong to do so. The thing that probably worries me the most is V and Hobi’s inner feelings, and Hobi probably only laughed because that’s a natural reaction for him and he can’t really show disappointment with all these people in front of him and cameras in his face. Sadly, I can’t say the same for Taehyung since he just looked sort of appalled at what RM said. I hope RM sincerely apologized to those 2 afterwards because this just disgusts me. I don’t care if it was a joke or if he just got caught up in the situation or whatever but poking fun at the color of someone’s skin is not and never will be okay. 

I know he’s not a bad person because he’s proved this so many times, but he sure as hell messed up big time and the least he can do is apologize. He’s the leader & the others look up to him, so I really hope no one else in BTS acts like this in the future due to his immature actions. He’s messed up before and just as the fandom started to let go of it, here he is again making the same mistakes. So disappointing.

I’ve had to deal with countless shit like this as a Kpop fan, and I’m sick and tired of it. Before being an ARMY I was an EXO-L and I was so done with the colorism/racism/“jokes” that I had to take a break from Kpop. I thought that when I got into Bangtan I would get into a group that hopefully wasn’t as problematic as the other groups I’ve been into. And I was right, they’re not, it’s mainly just Rap Mon. Hopefully other members won’t follow his footsteps later on. I know every Kpop group has it’s problems whether it be individuals or the group itself, but I’m just done with colorism/racism being one of them. 

Idols (especially RM in this situation) are all well aware that they have millions of fans around the world, and guess what? Not. Everyone. Has. Milky. White. Skin. It’s time to stop being ignorant and be considerate of those darker colored fans. As a Filipino with really tan skin, this is so offending because if they’re considered black, then what am I? The dirt beneath the dirt at the bottom of your shoe? Gee, people with even darker skin must have it way worse then. 

Idols are grown ass adults with developed ass brains yet so many of them still have some growing up to do. Every skin tone is beautiful in it’s own way. As role models to millions of people everywhere, they should encourage that. But by saying things like this, they’re probably making some beautiful girl out there feel bad about herself, thinking “I’m not pretty. Oppa won’t like me because I have dark skin”. I’ve seen this happen to too many fans already and it makes my heart hurt. Idols need to realize that a few petty words can cause massive amounts of damage. It’s sad that I wasn’t even completely shocked that this happened because similar scenarios happen in Kpop all the fucking time to the point where I’m pretty much used to it. Seriously, when will it stop?

For a guy with an IQ of 148, Namjoon can be insanely stupid sometimes. He doesn’t deserve death threats (obviously no one does), but I just hope we as a fandom can help him realize his mistakes so he won’t do something like this in the future again.

i love my mom she is so chill we were driving to the grocery store and i was all antsy because i wanted needed to write because *:・゚The Inspiration*:・゚ was happening u know and she was like “ok if you keep bobbing your knee you’re going to deploy the airbag what’s wrong” and i was like “I NEED TO GO HOME AND WRITE LIKE RIGHT NOW” and she was like “ohhh ok, is this for Home or for the companion piece” and i said “THE COMPANION PIECE” and so she makes a U-turn while simultaneously reaching to the back seat like some motherly superhero and pulls a pen and legal pad out of no where so i could scribble notes in the car

so now i just got to my computer and got everything down via typing and my mom just brought me a spinach quesodilla (we live in SF can u tell) and all is right in the world

JX and the Badwells, rough work in progress.

We released five singles in the last ten months or so.

Each single was written, recorded and posted within the same week.  Many musicians and people around me locally think that was a mistake and that I can’t be taken seriously as a musician.
“If your song isn’t perfect, you will look like and sound like a fool” they said.

Obviously, I disagree (mostly because they are wrong.)  My whole motivation was to build a fan base of people who could see what my music is about, by  sharing my creative process with them organically over time.   

‘Dream Come True’ written by JX Badwell, 2nd week of Dec. 2014.
                               18200 plays, 2900 notes
‘Unity’                      written by JX badwell,  3rd week of Jan. 2015.
                               12,500 plays, 3200 notes
‘Because Cocaine’  written by JX Badwell, 3rd week of June 2015.
                               8650 plays,  2400 notes
‘BlueEyedRider’     written by JX Badwell,  4th week of July 2015.
                               2800 plays,  1000 notes
‘I’ll Never Forget’    written by JX Badwell,  4th week of August 2015.
                               1800 plays,  700 notes

We’re about to hit 5000 followers who have stuck with me during all the ups and downs of life as I strive to create music and find our place in the music industry.  

That is exactly what I wanted; fans who have come to know about our creativity, our sound and the truth of who we are, these are the people I believe in.  
  Our fans who showed their support publicly so that we could actually get gigs at festivals and events; our followers who have helped us make social statements that matter.  
Most importantly, our audience who during 50 000 plays of our music have shared their hearts and minds with mine.

Thanks, JX Badwell.

Filling The Void // A Dylan O'Brien Smut

A/N: I haven’t done a Dylan smut in a while, so here we go! Oh and this imagine is set when they were shooting Teen Wolf season 3B. If you guys ever want to leave requests in my askbox, you totally can. But you should know, I don’t do personal imagines. Okay, enjoy :)

When I went to grab the popcorn out of the hot microwave, I suddenly heard the sound of a door slamming.

With the popcorn in my hands, I walked over to the front door of the house. Dylan had finally arrived from a long day at work.

“Hey baby.” I welcomed hugging him.

“Hey.” Dylan said dryly and quickly hugging me back.

Okay something is definetly wrong. Dylan never passes up the opportunity to share affection.

I looked up at him, confused, but he just looked straight ahead.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He stated walking towards the stairs.

“Okay.” I said as he climbed towards the second story.

Dylan is always such a happy, bubbly person. It doesn’t make sense for him to be this way. Unless something happened at work today. Yeah that’s probably it.

Because I’m the girlfriend and just because I love him so much, I’m gonna do what I can to cheer him up.

I entered the kitchen, placed the popcorn down, and put chicken nuggets to bake in the oven. Then, I walked over to the DVD racket and grabbed a random season of Friends. I put it into the DVD player and sat on the couch waiting for him.

“Have you seen my blue t-shirt?” Asked Dylan suddenly.

I turned around and he was standing in the living room doorway, with only a towel covering his private area. Everything else was exposed and dripping wet.

“I, uh, left it on top of the machine.”

“Thanks.” He said, walking off.

After a bit, Dylan came back and sat down next to me.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“You seem a little upset, so I decided to cheer you up.” I said, smiling widely.

“Oh cool.” Dylan said, smiling weakly.

“Okay, what’s wrong Dylan?” I asked, scooching next to him.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

I raised an eyebrow, not giving up on him.

Right when he was about to open his mouth to say something, the timer went off in the kitchen.

“That would be the nuggets.” I stated, getting up. “Hold that thought, I will be right back.”

I grabbed the tray of nuggets out of the oven and placed it on the counter. I then turned it off.

“Alright. Speak.” I said, sitting back down on the couch.


“Come on Dylan, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m sorry.” Dylan sighed. “It’s just.. I’ve been playing an evil character for so long that it feels like he’s becoming apart of me. I feel like…like I’m starting to develope this void.” He confessed.

I looked at him lovingly. Dylan is such a good person that he’s worried about changing.

“He’s a character Dylan.” I said. “I know it feels like a lot to handle right now, but it’ll pass. I promise. That’s all apart of being an incredible actor. You take a little a bit of your character with you.”

Dylan turned around and looked at me. I smiled at him.

“Just the fact that you’re scared of feeling void, means that it’s not there. People who are void are empty and numb. And last time I remember, you cried watching How To Train Your Dragon 2.”

Dylan laughed and it was music to my ears.

“Thank you.” He said, locking his eyes with mine.

I just leaned closer to him and placed a kiss on his lips. Dylan instinctively put his hands on either sides of my cheeks and deepened the kiss.

He swept his tongue across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth for him. His tongue immedietly found mine.

I climbed on top of him and was now in a straddling position. I could feel his already hard member against me. Dylan’s hands were gripping my waist while mine played with his hair.

Dylan pulled away to breathe, but I didn’t stop. I trailed wet kisses from his neck towards his jawline and sucked on his sweet spot.

Dylan pulled my mouth back on his and started to remove my shirt. I broke the kiss for a breif second so he can pull the shirt over my head. He then did the same.

Dylan unclasped my bra and took it off, throwing it on the other side of the couch. Dylan’s hands went directly to knead my breasts and my breathing increased.

I grinded against him and Dylan moaned. I smiled to myself and reached over to unbuckle his belt. Dylan just watched me as I did so. After opening his pants I got off of him to remove them.

When I did, I kneeled in front of him and leaned down. I took Dylan into my mouth and swirled my tongue around his tip.

Dylan’s hands went on my neck and he started to buck his hips. I laughed, causing vibrations and he moaned. I picked up my speed and Dylan squirmed under me. I hummed and took more of him in my mouth. He moaned even louder and throbbed in my mouth. I can tell he’s close.

Finally, Dylan bucked his hips, stiffened and came. His hot liquid went down my throat and I swallowed.

I looked at Dylan and his eyes were shut, with his head leaning on the couch as he breathed heavily.

I chuckled and kissed him on the lips. I went back to straddling him and grinded on him. Dylan reached down and slipped his hand inside my underwear. His finger found my special nub and rubbed circles on it. I broke the kiss to lean my head back and moan. I could feel Dylan get hard again.

He went faster and faster and I gripped onto his biceps.

“Stop.” I breathed, when I felt myself get close.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, out of breath. I just shook my head as I got off of him and removed my shorts and underwear.

Dylan understood where I was getting at and proceeded to pump himself a little.

I positioned myself over him and slowly slid down. Dylan’s width stretching me, causing moans to escape my lips.

After waiting a bit to adjust, I started to slowly bounce on him. Dylan moaned and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I got a hold of his shoulders and went faster. Dylan’s hands were on my waist to help guide me and pick up my speed.

Dylan would buck his hips everytime I slammed on him, causing me to scream.

Dylan was throbbing inside of me and I could feel myself tighten around him. Dylan screamed as I came and then he stiffened and released his hot liquid inside me. I didn’t stop bouncing until both of our orgasms had completely finished.

Dylan and I stayed there, staring at each other and gasping for air.

“Thank you.” He breathed.

“You don’t have to thank me for having sex with you.” I chuckled.

Dylan’s hand went up to my cheek and carressed it with his thumb.

“I’m not just thanking you for that. I want to thank you for always being there and never giving up on me.”

I smiled at him.

“Do you know why I’m not actually void?” He asked.


“Because you fill me up.” He said proudly, with an adorable smile on his face.

All I could do was give him a passionate kiss.

“You know those chicken nuggets are probably getting cold.” Dylan stated, pulling away.

I laughed.

“Go ahead.” I said getting off of him and sitting on the couch.

“Love you.” He said, shooting up and sprinting towards the kitchen.

He was still naked so everything just bounced and I couldn’t stop having a fit of laughter.

“Love you too.” I managed to say, through the tears running down my cheeks.

“My son is a special son. He can’t speak or hear. We found out when he was 2 years old. He was playing with my father, but then he make a sound with the toy and see no reaction. So my father say - ‘Eh! There’s something wrong with him’. So we take him to the doctor, and the doctor say he can’t hear any more. We asked him why and he said maybe because it’s fever. And as a father I just couldn’t accept it - how can my own son be like that?
To this day I remember my wife crying.. She suffered through 9 months, cares for him, feeds him, and one day he’s fine the next day he can’t hear his own mother’s voice? Then my brother tell me - 'This is God’s gift to you. It doesn’t matter what he’s like. But if you can’t accept him, then you can’t accept God.’
We sent him to normal school with normal people. We didn’t want to send him to special school because we didn’t want him to feel different. But the principal said 'Eh! How will he do in class?’ so I said 'I’ll worry about that, just let him sit in class’. And you know what - he beat them! He was better than everyone. Now he’s 26, he drives a car, and he listen to his girlfriend more than he listen to us. So we take advantage of that and tell her what we want..
I like this one, I think she love him. In a few years, if they still together, we’ll ask him to propose. I’m a family man you see. And I hope he grows up to be one too.”

i remember saying and thinking all the time “i don’t care about gender/sexuality/race, its all good to me” but then i realized, that it was wrong. it not only sounds like i’m saying i don’t care, but it probably makes someone feel like i am not caring about them or their identity. so, i fixed it: i DO care about your gender/sexuality/race, and it is important to me. tell me about it!! educate me!! correct me if i’m wrong about your pronouns or labels!! i do care and i will make sure i make you as comfortable as possible while being your friend by not erasing it or sounding like i don’t care, because i most certainly do.