things i will never give up

5 Things that Keep us Stuck in Life

1. Believing negative, unproductive and self-defeating thoughts. These include thoughts like “I could never … I’m not good enough to … I don’t deserve to … I’m useless at …”

2. Blaming others. It’s true that other people can have a huge affect on what happens to us, and where we are in life. But we give them too much power if we let them set our course, and see ourselves as victims, and act like we’ve no power.

3. Taking ourselves too seriously. It’s important to work hard and to have integrity – but we also have to laugh and enjoy ourselves as well. Also, decide to let things go, and put up with some mistakes. You’re not a perfect person and, the truth is - that’s OK!

4. Being afraid to take some risks or to live close to the edge. To have an interesting life you must leave your comfort zone and say “yes” to some new chances and opportunities. It will broaden your perspective, reduce anxiety, and provide you with new options and possibilities.

5. Being afraid of change. It doesn’t take much effort to stick with what you know. The unknown can seem daunting as we don’t know where that leads! But we grow as individuals and lead a richer life if we learn to accept changes, instead of being scared.


                                        50 YEARS HAVE PASSED

It’s been an incredible 11 weeks. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my fan artwork for the series. There have been times when I felt like quitting, and just watching the series. It is thanks to all of you, for giving me the courage to keep moving forward.

Never give up on the things you love. Your work is never meaningless.

prompt #6, #18 (Theo Raeken)

6.“did it hurt?” “what when I fell from heaven?” “no when you fell for me.” 18.“what’s our exit strategy?” “our what?” “oh god this is how I die.” “please like i’d let that happen.” Requested by @wckedheart

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

“I should just kill you right now." I said digging my claws a little deeper in Theo’s neck.

"but you won’t nah you like me too much.” Theo said with a smirk.

I picked Theo up slamming him on the table and breaking his arm.

“yeah I let Stiles kick my ass too, but he didn’t break anything.” Theo said popping his arm back in place so it could heal.

“want me to break something else?” I growled.

“see y/n this is the you I’ve been wanting to see.” Theo laughed as I punched him again.

“what can I say babe you bring it out of me.”

I slammed Theo down a few more times letting out all of my anger. He tried to kill my alpha and played with my feelings, just for power. I sat down on the floor of Deaton’s clinic trying to calm my breathing.

“now that you’re done beating the shit out of me, maybe we can talk.” Theo said sitting on the floor next to me.

“who said i’m done beating the shit out of you.” I snapped scooting away from him.

“awe come on baby I can smell lust too remember? I know you lust after me.” Theo said scooting closer.

“what do you want?” I said standing up to get away from him.

“I want a lot of things from you baby but this time it’s not what I want from you, it’s what I want for you.” Theo said smirking seductively.

He was right, there was part of me that lusted after him, but than there was the part of me that knew he was nothing but a snake and as soon as he got what he wanted he would either kill you or leave you with permanent damage.

“what do you mean?” I asked crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m going to help you break out Lydia Maritn.”

“yeah no thanks. We don’t need your little chimera pack and why would you want to help us?”

“well Lydia is the only one who can tell us who the beast is, so she’s just as valuable to us as she is to you. Plus if I do recall the walls of Eichen House are laced with mountain ash meaning you can’t get through, but I can.” Theo said smirking once again.

I huffed walking out the door. He had a point, he could get through, we couldn’t. I knew Scott would never agree to Theo helping, but I also knew that Theo was going to show up anyways whether we wanted him to help or not. It all boiled down the this moment right now. We were all trapped in Eichen House on lockdown. I got separated from Scott and was currently being held by Theo and his pack of chimeras. Josh held me by the neck shocking me with electricity if I dared to move.

“I knew it, I knew you had some other deviant plan.” I said growling, earning a shock from Josh.

“tell me y/n did it hurt?” Theo said grabbing my face so I was looking at him.

what when I fell from heaven?” I asked rolling my eyes.

no when you fell for me?” He said bringing his face dangerously close to mine.

“please it’s gonna hurt when I break every bone in your body.” I threaten earning another shock from Josh.

“damn I like em’ feisty.” Theo said smirking.

“what does a pack of chimeras want with a banshee anyways?” I asked.

“oh I don’t want a banshee baby, I want a hell hound.”

As if on cue Parrish comes in blazing. Theo’s pack of Chimeras looked terrified.

“you wanted a hell hound, you got one.” I said breaking Josh’s arm and throwing him towards Parrish.

Parrish easily stopped Tracy, Josh, and Corey, significantly wounding all of them. Theo showed his fangs and claws. Parrish kept walking towards us. I thought as long as I stayed out of his way he wouldn’t do anything to me. Theo panicked grabbing my arm running, but we didn’t get very far.

“what’s our exit strategy?” I asked starting to feel the effects of being exposed to that much mountain ash in the walls.

I collapsed on the floor starting to breathe heavily, I needed to get out of here.

“our what?” Theo said trying to pick me up.

“you’re kidding right, you got me into something you can’t get me out of!? oh god, this is how I die, and with you.” I said disgustedly.

please like i’d let that happen. Than Scott would never trust me.” Theo picked me up carrying me into one of the rooms.

I could feel my breathing dramatically slowing down.

“hey come one you have to breathe.” Theo said bringing his face down to mine.

His tone was different, almost as if he was worried about me. Next thing I know Theo is giving me mouth to mouth. He pounds on my chest hard and I shoot up feeling all the air rush back in my lungs. Theo grabs my hand helping me stand up.

“you know babe technically that was our first kiss.” He said smirking.

“technically you ever do anything like this to me again, I’ll kill you.” I growled getting away from him.

I walked in front of him so he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks from when his mouth was on mine.

“playing hard to get, okay, I got time baby and I play rough.” Theo said walking behind me.

prompt from:

so i’m almost to 200 followers! that’s crazy! Thanks guys you rock!

I don’t want this anymore,
I feel like a crime scene 
being photographed, broken down,
and studied by some fresh-faced detective 
that will never understand why
I ever did the things that made me feel alive

I don’t want this but 
I don’t want an autopsy either,
Y cuts down my sternum,
peeled back skin and cracked open
ribs, my secrets will spill out 
in the slow flow of congealed blood 

I can’t have anyone know 
all of the things I’ve done,
the scars both seen and unseen
that spell ‘self-love’,
my body is a damaged one 
and I don’t want this anymore 

so stop searching for something
that I am not yet ready to give up

—  24 hour investigations || O.L.

Robert Pattinson Knows What You Think, but He Can Work With That

By MANOHLA DARGIS MAY 28, 2017 for the New York Times


About Cosmopolis:

It was, however, “Cosmopolis,” the 2012 dystopian fantasy from David Cronenberg, based on the Don DeLillo novel, that effectively set Mr. Pattinson’s career path. “I think it was the first time when I worked on something that was quite complex,” he said.

“Cosmopolis” was, he added, essentially the first movie he made after he finished the final chapter of the “Twilight” series. “I especially love the fact that it came out really at the height of my popularity,” he said. Cast as a master of the universe who endures a spectacular, increasingly violent and humiliating fall, Mr. Pattinson sees the movie as “the big turning point for me — I just realized that was what I wanted to do.”

Mr. Cronenberg had made a movie without a mold, and his star became eager to follow suit. “I think it’s so rare for something to break a pattern,” Mr. Pattinson continued. “I feel like almost everything in the world is designed to be predictable.”

About transfiguration and transformation

It’s common for stars to obscure their looks, pop on a fake nose and fright wig, of course; it’s less common for actors to wholly embrace the irredeemable and risk the audience’s love. “Anyone can look ugly,” Mr. Pattinson said. “It doesn’t take much.”

In “Good Time,” the ugliness he taps into goes beyond Connie’s greasy hair and torrents of flop sweat, and seems to exude from his very pores. Mr. Pattinson, who conveys a warmth and openness in person, conceded that it could be a problem when audiences confuse actor and character. But that hasn’t happened to him, which is why he is, he said, “pretty blasé about it.” If anything, he seemed happy at all the “revolting parts” he has coming up.

About his future projects

Looking further ahead, he would love to work with the German director Maren Ade, whose “Toni Erdmann” played big at Cannes last year. During this year’s festival, it was announced that Mr. Pattinson would star in “The Souvenir,” an ambitious movie from the British director Joanna Hogg that Martin Scorsese will executive produce. Mr. Pattinson also hopes that this summer he can start on a project (“High Life”) that he and the French director Claire Denis — he counts her film “White Material” among his favorites — have been working on for three years. (“That, to me, that’s kind of the biggest thing I’ve got. I literally still can’t really believe it.”)

About his past work

“I think one of the best things, basically, about being a bit of a sellout,” Mr. Pattinson said, is “if you’ve done five movies in a series, you’ve had to accept some responsibility for playing the same character.” He didn’t sound regretful, just matter-of-fact. Working on the “Twilight” movies, he said, was “an amazing luxury” and it was “amazing luck, as well, to just have fallen into it with the group of people I worked with on it.” They were kids in it together, kids who rebelled or tried to, and felt emboldened to act out. He even came close, he said, to being fired on the first movie, until his agents flew in to straighten him out. “I didn’t have to kiss anybody’s” rear end “the entire time,” he said. “I don’t think I did, anyway.”

Mr. Pattinson seems entirely at peace with “Twilight” and has clearly found a way to harness its legacy, which includes going dark and making the kinds of art films that find love at Cannes. He says he always thinks he’s terrible in every take. “I can’t say that about anyone I work with,” he added. “I’ve never seen anyone give themselves such a hard time. I’m beating myself up afterward. And I think there’s some weird perverted energy that comes out of when people criticize previous work or think you represent this certain thing; it gives you this energy.”

Maybe that sounds disingenuous, but I believed him. He was on a roll, though, and soon added that he was “almost scared of anyone saying anything I do is good.” He then laughed, perhaps a touch self-consciously.

Full Article

The perfect 10

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

Originally posted by perfect10source

Tye Dillinger x Reader for @megaperfect10

Request: The readers brother is Kevin Owens and when Kevin sees Tye walk through the door at a get together with their family things get heated cause of the past of the both of them. Maybe some swearing if you allow that. Thanks if you can.

Note: I guess I had another request besides Matt and Alex. Either way I hope you like it!

December 11, 2014 was the exact date I met the love of my life. It wasn’t a romantic story like me crashing into him by accident. Nor was it a love hate relationship between us. It was always love…pure innocent love. Out of all the great romantic love stories out there, ours simply started by a conversation dealing with food. It wasn’t romantic but it was something I cherished greatly.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

JD's coat was mostly saved from the explosion, and Veronica got her hands on it. She's never taken it off since. It's the only thing she has left. She doesn't know what she's gonna do when it looses his scent.

But wouldn’t it be like…covered in blood…and smell like ashes….this ended up more messy than intended

I like the idea of him giving her his coat BEFORE he dies and then she has that to remember him amanskfhdhsla

extravagantly-sour  asked:

It is such a small thing, but can you talk about Dean's focus/nagging Cas about his appearance? I have never seen Cas fluff with his hair in a mirror, as he did while investigating. Given Dean was hilariously giving him shit about it in a later episode, could he have been the cause all along? Was Dean nagging in the silent spaces, maybe? "Are we still talking about the same thing?"

Well, Dean’s focus on Cas’s looks are…telling. (heck, so is Jensen’s) 

I think When Dean brings things up, it makes Cas insecure and a little bit hurt, so he will primp himself some. But I also like Cas napping back at Dean for his own fashion.

But yeah, Dean is focused on Cas’s appearance cause he wnts to bone the sweet angel.

Letters (Part 1)

Summary: In which a former HYDRA prisoner writes one letter every day for years, hoping that one day her lover will come back to her.

Warnings: none

Ship: Bucky x fem!Reader

Words: 550

I am giving names to the reader because it makes sense with the storyline. Just read it. You’ll get it.

Letter #1

April 9th, 2010

Dear James,

I am writing this letter to you, even though I know you will never receive it. I am writing the letter to you, even though I know that if you do find your way out of that hell, I will never see you again. I am writing this letter to you because I fucked up, and it is the only thing keeping me from having a psychotic break.

I am terrified. It has been three days since I escaped and I can’t stop thinking about what they are doing to you. I am trying to convince myself that you are okay, but I know that is foolish of me to think. They are hurting you more. Because of me. I tried so hard, and I understand if you will never forgive me for leaving you. If I could go back and change things I would. I just want to be with you.

I am getting my passport and leaving for America tomorrow. I had to change my name so they wouldn’t find me. I am now Indigo Petrova. I dyed and cut 9 inches off my hair, and for that, I am truly sorry. I know that my hair gave you comfort. I cried the moment the blade touched my locks.

I hope that one day we will see each other again.

Love always,


Keep reading

bugheadjonesiii  asked:

Hey hotdog here. Don't be sad friend. I will give you all the licks and we can snuggle and just watch movies and eat snacks. I will curl up on your toes when they get chilly and will act as a hot water bottle. We can also go to the park and chase squirrels together and play all day and I will never leave your side. Lick lick. (Sorry this is the worst thing ever I am not a writer lol)

You’re my favourite <3

love-sidemen-lewisredman-slut  asked:

Can you write 6 and 99 about Simon please l. Love your work by the way ❤

“I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!” Simon spat out, anger fuelled in his body. Earlier on that day, the doctor told him that if you don’t wake up from your state, they will have to turn off your lifeline.

“You can’t die. Please don’t die.” Simon cried, holding your pale, cold hand against his lips and kissing it.

“We’re supposed to live forever together, get married, have children, die together. It was never supposed to be this way. I love you so much.” He sniffled, watching you asleep in a coma, different wires connected to your body. 

“How can they take the only thing that keeps me going?” He continued, shaking his head.

He won’t give up on you, not once has he ever doubted himself that you won’t ever wake up. You are the only one to keep him going, you have to make it.

It’s a conflict.
Different parts of
The world,
My head,
So many different things.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,”
Shouts someone
Surrounded by posters railing
Against Overmedicated America.
“There’s no shame in needing the pills,”
Says a man who never will.

I was fifteen when I started
Taking long-term meds.
I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to be dependent on anything
To keep going.
I had gotten that far myself;
I could go farther.
I had control, and
I didn’t want to give it up.
I didn’t say any of this.
I took the paper,
Filled the prescription,
Swallowed the pills,
Because my mother
And a man I had spoken to
For fifteen minutes
Wanted me to.
I gave up my independence
To be a good daughter.
I stopped being my natural self
To be a good patient.

I’m better, these days.
Life is easier, because
The meds work.
But some mornings,
I look at my weekly pill organizer
With a capsule and three and a half tablets
For every day,
And I think it’s artificial.
This goodness,
This success,
It can’t be mine
Because I am not doing it;
Something else is doing it for me.

It’s an internalized thing
We mental-illness-based pill-poppers
All deal with.
Our culture tells us that
To be worthy,
We must be strong.
To be strong,
We must be self-sufficient.
To be self-sufficient,
We cannot depend on
Anyone or anything.
It’s a double standard
Based around mood-altering
Prescription drugs.
Why is taking Zoloft
To boost my serotonin levels
Different from
Knocking back three ibuprofen
to reduce the inflammation
In my knee?
My pills give me
That my body should produce
On it’s own,
But doesn’t.
They make real, physical
To my body
So I can function
The way other people do.

I don’t know if that
Is artificial,
Or if it’s how I would be
If nothing had broken.
Which version is the real me,
The one on the meds,
Or off of them?

It’s frustrating.
It’s frightening.
These tiny object,
All in shades of orange,
Have complete power over my life.
If I stop taking them,
I will slide downhill,
Until I just want the end.
I am not in control;
The pills are.

My generation tells me to
Take my meds and be well.
Older generations tell me to
Get the hell over myself.
My doctor tells me what
The medication fixes for me.
Non-professionals tell me
It’s all in my head.

It’s all in my head.

It’s all in my head.

You bet your ass
It’s all in my head.
That’s where the problem is;
My brain isn’t working right,
Chemicals aren’t getting where
They’re supposed to do.
Of course it’s all in my head.
That’s where my brain is,
Isn’t it?

My friend has diabetes.
He takes insulin.
I have ADHD.
I take Adderall.
Why is his disease
Seen as legitimate,
While mine is
A delusion to be set aside?
We are both sick,
We both take medication to control the symptoms,
But while his illness is accepted,
Mine is condemned.

It’s all in my head,
They say.
Yeah, and his problem
Is all in his pancreas.

“Overmedication holds no shame.”
“Meds are no skin off one who need not take them.”
“Give up control, because you’re not doing it right;
These pills can do it better.”
“Take drugs to fix the symptoms,
And leave the source alone.”
“There’s nothing we can do but supplement
The chemicals your brain produces
And hope for the best.”
“Give up,
And be well.”

The messages become convoluted,
And we keep quiet,
Because it’s hard enough to fight our minds,
To fight our culture,
To just take the damn pills,
Without having a war waged
With us as the centerpiece.

But the double standard burns.
I’ve internalized it myself,
However hard I try to fight it.
If I broke a bone,
I’d have it set.
If I were badly cut,
I would get stitches.
If I had an infection,
I would take antibiotics.
If I had arthritis,
I would take anti-inflammatories.
Why is an illness of the mind
So different?


“I Need To Take A Pill To Make This Town Feel Okay” by Iago Phathom

(Thanks to @adekis for letting me use him as my example of a “physical” invisible illness as opposed to a “mental” one.)

anonymous asked:

What's it like to know you fucked up so bad that you can't ever casually party again?? Lmao dumbasses like you are hilarious, glad you're sober now though gotta give you props for that but still sucks lol

My immediate reaction to this is a negative one.
I want to get defensive and be mean but I won’t because you are obviously unaware of how addiction works.

First of all when you are an addict there is no such things as “casually partying”. I can never just have a few drinks or smoke a few blunts and be okay. Because I’m an addict and my brain will run with it. I will convince myself that “just one time” is okay. But that one time will turn into more times. And I’m okay with never putting another substance in my body. Because my life has improved so much since I quit drinking and drugs. Note. I do still go to party’s but I make it very clear that I am sober and guess what. I never had a bad time while sober at a party. But I can tell you about a handful of time when I was using where the party went bad, where I or someone else got hurt because of the substances in their body (excluding pot).

Second. Yea, I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I lost everything. I mean everything including any dignity I had. And guess what, I have to live with that. But because I am sober today I am rebuilding my life of a firm foundation and I know I won’t fall. I know I get a little better and a little stronger every single day. I worked hard to get where I am right now. And I am proud of that.

If I lived the entire rest of my life and never “casually partied” again. I would be absolutely fine with that. Because I am alive today because I don’t use drugs anymore. My liver functions today because I don’t drink anymore. I don’t want up sick, I don’t go to bed worried about where I’ll get my next hit.

Today I am happy.
I struggle a lot. But everyone does. Life is hard when you go from having one focus(drugs) to having real responsibilities. But I’d much rather be where I am today then where I was 440 days ago.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Idk if you planned on actually writing a full fic on that shrunkyclunks prompt thing but if you're thinking about it I just wanna say that there can never be enough shrunkyclunks fics and I'd be super excited to read it if you did write it!! (Also just wanna add I hope this doesn't make you feel pressured at all I just wanted express my interest) Have a great day! :)


Aaaawwww nonnieeee <33333

Don’t worry, this is just the right way to ask someone for fic! You’re not making me feel pressured at all, and it’s always good to know there’s interest! ^^

Tbh at first I wasn’t planning on writing that at all. Like, the whole point of making that summary-drabble-sort-of-thing was to just release the idea into the wild in case anyone wanted to run with it, but I wasn’t expecting people to actually want it, omg. So many people have asked for more that at this point I think I might just have to cave and write it XDD


On the other hand, it’s not gonna get much better than that summary-thingy, really, and I feel like I’d disappoint a fuckton of people… so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

movie tropes that will never get old to me:

  • a thing happens + two people exchanging money in the back
  • fourth wall breaking
  • “give up all your weapons” and that one guy that spends the entire evening taking his weights worth out his pockets
  • *a terribly loud crash* meowing/ car sirens heard offscreen
  • alternatively: a terribly loud crash and one of the characters going “oops” in the most casual voice
  • “fuck you” “well if you insist”

anyone else kinda terrified you’ll never be able to hold a job in the future because of your mental illness

Day One Hundred and Twenty-Six

-A woman’s total came out to $6.32. She handed me $5.07 and waited patiently for her change. I let her know that there was $1.25 left, to which she let me know that this was the correct amount for her to receive back. Upon getting my point across, she handed me $1.00 more. Hesitantly, I pointed out the discrepancy, at which point she took the balance out of my hand and passed me a crisp ten.

-A bouncing baby with, what I suspected to be, a full diaper, showed me his talent of fitting his entire fist inside his mouth. Already, he has accomplished more in life than I could ever dream of achieving.

-When asked how she was today, a woman replied with only silence and a single thumb raised to the sky. This fleeting moment spoke volumes more than any mere words could.

-In one of the most tragic moments I have yet to witness, a jar of salsa slid out of a man’s cart and shattered into thousands of spicy shards, spraying all over his sandal-clad feet. This was not a tragedy for his loss of mild picante pleasure, nor did the sadness lie in the hot mess left for me to clean. The deeply troubling nature of the situation stemmed entirely from the squelches that accompanied each of his steps after.

-A man asked me not to bag any of his items, as he had, instead, brought along with him a large bucket.

-A five year-old girl approached my register, got up on her toes to rest her arm along the bar, and, holding up five of her little fingers, ordered as many stickers, to go. With a flick of my wrist and a wink of my eye, I served up this order, receiving only a blank expression in return. True artistes are never appreciated in their time, but I will never give up the Craft of Flair.

-I handed a child a sticker. His mother prompted him to thank me. When he did not, his mother revoked his sticker privilege and insisted that he say his thanks. Instead, he turned to me, looked directly into my eyes, and said, “Voodoo.” I deeply wish she had just let him keep the sticker. Another curse is the last thing I need right now.

-I saw a man in his eighties walk into the airlock at the store’s entrance, perch himself upon a motorized cart, and drift swiftly to sleep. I want this man to take me under his wing and teach me, as I could never achieve such sound slumber so speedily in such a trafficked place, but I know that I can never ask him as much. That would involve waking him up, and that simply will not do.

-I watched a young boy walk up to my lane, brandishing a pixelated sword from Minecraft and a Peter Quill mask from Guardians of the Galaxy. He asked me if I could ring up his aforementioned “Star Wars toys”, and after a brief pause, if I had heard of that new movie about the galaxy guards. When I told him that I had, he informed me that he was, in fact, the guy from that. Naturally, I was starstruck and asked him for more details. This rare celeb sighting was sadly cut short, as Star-Lord’s dad leaned over my counter, stole my hand sanitizer, and demanded to know what exactly was with these credit card chips he kept hearing about everywhere.

-A newborn child, scarcely two months-old, rolled through my lane and, in the moments that followed, changed my life. I smiled. She giggled. I waved my hand. She waved her foot. I stuck my tongue out. She waved both her feet. This is now, and will forever be, our secret handshake.

Context: were being attacked by two hydra, and my dragonborn bard named Fiddle, plays kazoo

DM: And it’s now Fiddle’s turn.

Me: well… Exactly how hard would it be to seduce a Hydra?

DM: …. What

Me: I’m gonna play it a love song on Kazoo, and seduce it.

DM: …. Fuck, roll I guess

Me: *rolls a 19 plus my proficiency in performance and my charisma modifier* 26.

DM: I guess you-

Me: wait. *Pulls a kazoo from my bag and starts playing Rick Astleys Never Gonna Give You Up*

DM: okay- yeah- you seduce the Hydra with relative ease.