“I want to open my eyes at 7 am in a work day and find you warm in my arms. I want to hug you so tight and so gently against my chest so I can show you how much you mean to me without words. I want to think about you whenever I see something you like on the street, whenever I look at the sky and it’s in that shade of blue that you like. I want to miss the sound of your steps coming home late at night, skip a heartbeat at the thought that soon you’re going to knock at my door with a tired face and cold hands. I want to search for your hair and shirt through the crowd and for your coat in the lines. I want to stare at the sun going down with your hand wrapped around mine and nothing else touching. I want to wash the dishes and feel you teasing me and get angry afterwards. I want to laugh with and at you when I had the worst day ever. I want to watch the worst tv shows and the creepiest documentaries and the saddest movies with you. I want to smell you cooking for me and watch you giving me that look that says “I know you can’t cook, I’ll do it but you have to learn”. I want to talk about your thoughts, my fears, politics, injustice, our damaged childhood. I want to crave sweets with you before periods. I want to feel bad afterwards. I want to text you the oddest things when I’m just 4 ft away from you, sitting on the toilet. I want to sneak up on you when you’re listening to music and slightly dancing. I want to tease you when I’m bored and you’re looking for a movie to watch on the bed. I want to buy you the perfect present and spoil it cause I can’t keep a secret. I want to kiss your neck when you’re leaning on the desk studying your ass off. I want to sing in the shower and hear you laugh in the kitchen. I want to sing with you and be totally off-key. I want to scream when you decide to cut your hair. I want to like your hair later but don’t say anything anyway. That same night I want to whisper in your ear “You look good though”. I want to see your smile in the dark. I want you to be proud of me when I graduate. I want to be proud of you when you do. I want to be away from you and see the look on your eyes when I come back. I want to be with you when you don’t get your dream job. I want to celebrate with you when you finally do. I want to watch you grow and succeed and overcome your greatest fears. I want to travel the world with you with savings of out first year of paychecks. I want to see us slay in our careers, and be two badass women in two completely different ways. I want to experience the mid life crisis with you. I want that house on the mountains. I want to stare at you sitting on the bow of the boat looking at the sunset. I want to come to you and kiss you in that very moment. I want to close my eyes at 11:34 pm with my nose on your neck, wrinkles in my smile and my arms around you.
I want to love you everyday of my life and watch you loving me as much as I do.
But the thing I want the most is to be okay, even if I know that I can’t have everything I want. I want you to have all that, even if I’m not the one who will give it to you.“
aries: isle of flightless birds // We find our worth in giving birth and stuff || We’re lining our homes against winding roads || And we think the going is tough We pick songs to sing, remind us of things that nobody cares about || And honestly we’re probably more suicidal than ever now
taurus: taxi cab // I wanna fall inside your ghost || And fill up every hole inside my mind || And I want everyone to know || That I am half a soul divided || Sometimes we will die and sometimes we will fly away || Either way you’re by my side until my dying days || And if I’m not there and I’m far away || I said, “Don’t be afraid.” || I said, “Don’t be afraid. We’re going home.”
gemini: pantaloon // You are tired || You are hurt || A moth ate through || Your favorite shirt || And all your friends fertilize || The ground you walk || Lose your mind || He’s seen too many stare downs || Between the sun and the moon || In the morning air || How he used to hustle all the people || Walking through the fairgrounds || He’s been around too long
cancer: oh mrs believer // Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty sleeper || Your twisted mind is like snow on the road || Your shaking shoulders prove that it’s colder || Inside your head than the winter of dead || I will tell you I love you || But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears || My nose and feet are running as we start || To travel through snow || Together we go
leo: trapdoor // He wakes up early today || Throws on a mask that will alter his face || Nobody knows his real name || But now he just uses one he saw on a grave || He pretends that he’s okay || But you should see || Him in bed late at night, he’s petrified
virgo: addict with a pen // But no matter how || How tightly I will strain || The sand will slow me down || And the water will drain || I’m just being dramatic || In fact, || I’m only at it again || As an addict with a pen || Who’s addicted to the wind || As it blows me back and forth || Mindless, spineless, and pretend || Of course I’ll be here again || See you tomorrow || But it’s the end of today || End of my ways || As a walking denial
libra: before you start your day // Look in the mirror and ask your soul if you’re alright || Put out the glitter that your soul hides behind || You’re in my mind || I’m singing || You’re in my mind|| I’m singing la-da la-da la-da la-da la-da la-da da
scorpio: implicit demand for proof // I mean no disrespect || I am simply very perplexed || By your ways || Why won’t you let us || Use your name? || Rain down || And destroy me || Rain down || And destroy me || Rain down
sagittarius: march to the sea // No one looks up anymore || 'Cause you might get a raindrop in your eye || And Heaven forbid they see you cry || As we fall in line || And about this time of every year || The line will go to the ocean pier || And walk right off into the sea || And then we fall asleep
capricorn: johnny boy // He is falling in love || He knows it’s enough || And the world looks down and frowns || Get up Johnny boy, get up Johnny boy, || Get up ‘cause the world has left you lying on the ground. || You’re my pride and joy, you’re my pride and joy. || Get up Johnny boy because we all need you now.
aquarius: friend, please // I feel for you but when did you believe you were alone || You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home || Where light once was || Petrified of who you are and who you have become || You will hide from everyone, denying you need someone || To exterminate your bones
pisces: fall away // I don’t wanna fall, fall away || I disguise || And I will lie || And I will take my precious time || As the days melt away || As I stand in line || And I die as I wait as I wait on my crime || And I’ll try to delay what you make of my life || But I don’t want your way, || I want mine || I’m dying and I’m trying || But believe me I’m fine || But I’m lying, || I’m so very far from fine
Request:Could you please
write a fanfic where you wake up in the morning after a tiring hunt and since
you feel dirty you decide to take a shower. But because you’re still tired you
accidentally grab Dean’s shirt instead of yours, but he insists that you keep
it on. Then Sam gets jealous of Dean so he tries to get you to change into his
sweater instead. Then can it end with an embarrassed reader who ends up
changing back into her pajamas since all of her day clothes are dirty? I love
you please write it
A/N: @thereaderoffanfics, sorry it took me for-fucking-ever to write this. I’m fairly confident future requests will not take so much time. I feel like I’ve kind of got my mojo back. Also,I suck at speaking or writing in Spanish. I’m well aware.
You woke with drool gluing your wild hair to your cheek,
feeling like death. Blearily you looked
around the motel room. Dean was still
sleeping on the couch and Sam must have left for a run. You stumbled to your feet and hoped he would
at least bring you back some coffee. On
your way to the shower your grabbed a spare shirt to change into.
When you were clean and only slightly more awake you tugged
on your shirt, a soft, worn black and while flannel. There was something wrong with it that you
couldn’t place. You looked down at the
sleeves of your shirt, flapping your hands slightly. The excess fabric billowed, the hem extending
past your fingers. You shrugged, and in
your sleep starved state simply began to roll the sleeves and wandered out of
Sam had returned from his run and had, to your infinite gratitude,
brought you coffee. Dean was awake now,
though just barely, and sat across from his brother at the small motel
table. You snagged your coffee and
grunted in thanks. You sunk down onto
the edge of Sam’s bed between the brothers and inhaled a deep breath of coffee,
sighing contentedly. When you looked up,
two shocked faces were staring back at you.
“What?” You looked
between the two surprised faces, sipping your coffee. Dean looked at his brother, shrugging and Sam
returned the sentiment by raising his eyebrows and tilting his head. You loved these two, but boy if their silent
conversations weren’t irritating sometimes.
You winced as the coffee scalded your tongue. Finally, Dean seemed to lose their unspoken
argument and turned to you again, pressing a hand to his thigh, elbow sticking
“Is-is that my shirt,” Dean asked, his eyebrows folding
together, stubble sparkling as he smacked his lips. You looked down at the flannel shirt and your
black athletic shorts peeking out below the hem. It suddenly occurred to you why your shirt
had magically grown several sizes overnight.
you know, the one that killed us all (DON’T LIE, YOU WATCHED THE SAME SATOORI I DID)
if you somehow survived until the 6:20 mark (are you even real if you did?), you were blessed with this:
rip me. AND THEN WE GET TO THE ACTUAL JIKOOK:
okay, so first thing’s first: they’re both extremely tired (and extremely hot, i see your see-through shirt, kookie). in general, when you’re tired, you tend to have fewer of your social inhibitions in place telling you exactly how you should act and you end up behaving how you naturally want to. introverts like kookie tend to be pretty susceptible to this because they’re usually very good at putting up walls around their actual selves most of the time, BUT NOT WHEN THEY’RE TIRED BUNS. for this reason, i think this exchange is really enlightening about their actual dynamic
you can tell kookie’s struggling a bit because he pauses/stutters a lot:
(stop eyefucking the camera jimin) jungkook keeps talking and then jimin eventually makes the stupid joke about jungkook not helping him. they both giggle at this (kookie’s little giggling is so adorable i ‘ m d e a d)
BUT WAIT. This is literally one of the only times Jungkook even looks in Jimin’s direction. For example, ten seconds ago when Jimin conveniently readjusts himself to rest his forearm arm against Jungkook’s bicep (smooth, Jiminnie, smooth)
WE COULD LITERALLY HAVE A CAPTION CONTEST FOR THAT!!! “Shy Kookie looks away after Jimin rests arm on him.” Or “Madly-in-love Jeon Jungkook averts gaze from Park Jimin-hyung’s electrifying touch.”
We’ll go with that one.
The entire rest of the video is shy bun trying to fight the urge of cuddling/getting touchy with Jimin-hyung.
THE CAMERA THEN CUTS (did they do something that can’t be shown to the world????), but Jimin’s still resting his arm against Kookie. A few seconds later, Jimin presses his hand against Kookie’s chest (anyone else jealous and want to touch Kookie’s chest? no? just me?):
At the exact same time, Jungkook refuses to look toward Jimin and instead starts slapping his thighs repeatedly, almost like a nervous tick.
You can see his balled-up fist at the bottom. This is the type of thing you do to distract yourself from doing something that’s actually embarrassing, like, I don’t know, touching a very hot-looking Jimin-hyung right next to you?
Kookie does about seventeen more nervous ticks in the remaining minute like:
1) rub his eye
2) rub his chin
3) interrupt jimin
4) lean forward
5) look down
You get the idea.
THE BEST MOMENTS ARE SAVED FOR LAST. Jimin pushes Kookie over when he starts talking, leading to this wonderful still:
Kookie somehow gets through his little comment (and sits back up a little farther from Jimin, shy bun’s trying to avoid his hyung) BUT THEN JIMIN DOES THIS
JIMIN LEANS ON JUNGKOOK’S ARM AGAIN. (you’re not getting away so easily baby bun) IT GETS BETTER THO
JUNGKOOK GULPS. LIKE A NERVOUS GULP. LIKE AN “I’M SCREWED” GULP. LIKE THE NERVOUS / SHY BUN HE IS GULP. If your inner Jikook shipper isn’t squealing right now Idk what to tell you.
THE LAST FIFTEEN SECONDS CONSIST OF:
1) Nervous bun forgetting to say words after Jimin prompts him to talk:
2) JUNGKOOK ANTICIPATING THAT JIMIN WAS GOING TO SLAP HIM FOR TEASING HIS HYUNG AND STOPPING HIM
3) BABY BUN SLAMMING HIS HEAD AGAINST THE BACK WALL BECAUSE THE TORTURE IS FINALLY OVER
and there you have it: baby bun kookie is tired and can’t deal with his hyung who constantly teases him for two minutes with featherlight touches and subtle flirting. this is the shit fanfic writers dream of: flirt!jimin and shy!kookie. now my inner jikook shipper can die in peace T.T
Due to popular demand, here is my story of meeting them ^_^
So I walked up and I hugged Dan and then I hugged Phil and I could tell they were tired but really happy. Then Dan was like “omg I love your zebra shirt” and Phil was like “holy crap that’s amazing” and I was like “Thanks! I was really hoping you’d notice it” and Phil was like “of course we would!"
Then I turned to Dan and I was like “I was actually really hoping you would wear the moth shirt, its my favorite” and he started laughing and he was like “well I’m glad I made you’re day” and I was like “oh don’t worry, I think you would have made my day regardless” and phil kind of laughed at us when I said that because me and dan were being gross about fashion.
And then I was telling them my story about trying to bring my calendar to work to put in my cubicle but my manager said I couldn’t hang it up because they looked too much like male strippers (true story) and Dan was like "omg we so do I’m so sorry especially in the firefighter one” and I was like “I know you joked about it but it actually happened to me I cannot believe” and Dan was like “wow I’m so sorry you went through that experience I hope it was worth it” and we all laughed at my pain.
Dan took the picture and said thanks for coming and I left. Phil doesn’t really talk a lot, he kind of let’s Dan do the talking cause he’s like super awkward in real life and I don’t think he likes being put on the spot with questions and stuff but he was super nice and his hugs are 10/10 and he was very giggly and cute (and he also had scruff and looked his age and I was like DAD YES- I didn’t really say that BUT I THOUGHT IT)
I think my fave tøp lyric is “you are tired, you are hurt, a moth ate through your favourite shirt” just because it’s like oh all these terrible things are happening and you’re sad anD TO TOP IT ALL OFF A MOTH ATE THROUGH UR SHIRT ffs
Hey you, over there. You with the tired eyes, the breastmilk or formula drying stiff on your shirt, the bag of diapers growing heavy on your shoulder: I see you. I see your toddler screaming in the store as you sweat and scurry, rush to comfort, eyes darting. You’re wondering if we’re annoyed. If we’re judging you. If you give him a candy, will we roll our eyes? (We won’t.) Hey, mom–yes, you. On the plane, standing in the aisle to rock your wailing infant until you absolutely had to sit down, apologizing to every soul you could, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”–I see you too.
I want to hug you. It’s weird, so I don’t, but I want to. I want to ask if I can help, even though I know you’ll say no, because there were so many times I fantasized about someone offering the same to me and when it happened, I politely declined, feeling the burden should be mine alone to bear.
I want to talk to you about how we all understand. We get it. We, mothers, all of us: no matter our background, our circumstances, the number of children we have. We have all known the baby that won’t stop crying, though we’ve tried everything, everything, everything. And we have all sat and wondered, “Who am I now? Do I even exist anymore?”
I won’t lie: there is the rare creature, the one person who will say a terrible thing to you about your mothering, the awful specter of a human being who floats into your personal space and makes you question your parental worthiness on an almost infinite scale. There are those people, I know, and I’m sorry. Don’t pay attention to them. There are more of us that understand. I promise. Just look around.
In the moments you feel most vulnerable, take a moment to breathe and know that you are vulnerable with us too. You are not alone, though the state of motherhood can sometimes feel like the loneliest of places. You are not as isolated as you seem, though occasionally you may wonder if anyone still exists outside the miniature human you have in your arms.
And for the pregnant women–the mothers who are not yet mothers–lest you think you have been excluded, know that we see you too. You are happy, ecstatic, fulfilled. You may also be frightened, anxious, ambivalent. These things are okay. We felt them too, and we still feel them, but not in the anticipatory way that you do. We feel them on a bigger scale now, a roller coaster of boundless love and overwhelming fear. Embrace all the feelings you have: they are yours, and it’s okay to feel them now, and it’s okay to feel them later too.
And in that later time, if your feelings become suffocating, if the scary ones threaten to overtake all the good, if the clouds grow so dark you cannot possibly see the sun, you don’t think it’s even there anymore: there is help for you. There is good help. Ask for it. Don’t be ashamed to speak up, even softly. If you extend a hand, there will be someone to take it.
Everyone says it gets better. They’re lying. It doesn’t get better. It gets different. Sometimes now, I think about Isobel’s infancy, and I yearn mightily for the warm weight of a sleeping child upon my chest, the concept of time cast aside, the hours promising nothing but abject fascination with the sight of a human that did not exist but is here, somehow, and that belongs to me, body and soul. How can that get better? How can that feeling be improved upon? It can’t, I’m sorry. But, later, when your child is a little older, they will come to you and place their small hand in yours, whisper, “I love you,” and rest their head alongside yours. How can that get better? It does not, I’m sorry. And later, your child will sit in the backseat of the car and talk to you incessantly, telling you about the world through their extraordinary eyes, and you will see a small part of yourself, a part you can’t remember, coming back to life. The childlike wonder that you couldn’t access if you tried will come to you, unbidden, and you will smile at your child and they will smile back and you’ll think, oh. Oh. You are my child and you are also this independent person, coming into your own, and one day, you will realize this. And that day will be beautiful and terrible. But not better. Just different.
This goes well beyond me being upset that my favorite character (once again) died. This goes well beyond a stupid ship war. This goes well beyond me liking a show.
I am tired. I am so unbelievably tired of constantly being told, time and time again, that we don’t deserve a happy ending. I am so tired of seeing every lesbian or queer character being killed off. Especially via stray bullet that was meant for someone else. I’m tired of bloody shirts and fallen commanders. I don’t want your not yets or your maybe somedays.
I wanted it with clexa - and I genuinely thought things were FINALLY going our way.
I cannot even begin to explain how disappointed I am. For once - FOR ONCE - I thought this show was going to be different. FOR ONCE I thought I’d see a queer couple have a happy relationship. FOR ONCE I thought I was going to have happy and positive representation.
But no. The lesbian died. Again. It’s the same old story with the same devastating ending.