alyah12
19 posts
Latest Posts by alyah12
dave cider
So I found out a few months ago that wanting to ‘not exist’ or wishing you could ‘just sleep forever’ is also considered suicidal (specifically suicidal idealization). It shocked me cause I used to think that way when I was younger but had previously thought that being suicidal meant explicitly wanting to die.. but it actually involves wanting to not live too.
I think its an important thing to note cause it might allow someone to realize the severity of their condition earlier.
Ezran: Soren I hired another personal guard so you can get some sleep-
Soren: YoU DID WhAT?!
Ezran: Soren really you need some sleep you can't always be-
Soren: you-..... YOU BED BATH AND BETRAYED ME
ok so here’s a thought:
there’s a large akuma attack, and Marinette and Adrien cannot transform because they’re in the public and have nowhere to hide. The akuma attacks them as Adrien tries to cover Marinette, but Gorilla, sent by Nathalie to guard over Adrien, intervenes. However, the akuma is too strong, and although the bodyguard manages to land a few solid punches on them, they quickly overpower him.
But just as they are about to finish him off…
WHAM
Someone lands a powerful blow on akuma’s face, sending them tumbling back. Gorilla looks up, and standing before him is nobody else than Tom Dupain, eyes narrowed, fists clenched.
The bodyguard gets up on his feet, looks at the akuma, then at Marinette’s dad…
And then The Best Dads™ do the manliest handshake.
The Chamber of Whoopass has been opened
Enemies to the kids… beware
Edited to add original source, with additional photos: https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/first-female-bodybuilders-1900s/
Xiaojun: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING LOTS OF BLOOD, WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?
Winwin: Sarcastic, mischievous, long-ish hair, perfect smile-
Xiaojun: BLOOD TYPE!!
Winwin: Oh
Winwin: *looks down*
Winwin: Red
People always gloss over how mentally damaging it can be to work in retail. I fucking hate that whenever I say “I could never work in retail again” someone has to reply “You snowflake millennials can’t take a starter job because you have to INTERACT with other people” No. Fuck you. I’ve worked as a planetarium host. I’ve worked as a public speaker. I’ve worked as a tutor and as a student teacher. I can work with people. I can work with crowds. Retail was fucking different. Retail was being treated as a subhuman. Retail was being treated so poorly that you have anxiety attacks before work. Having to work retail was a factor in my last suicide attempt. If I hear you say one fucking word about retail workers playing the victim I will personally break every bone in your body. Fuck You.
I am so ready for the first of Halloween.
Faustus: What’s the first thing you notice when someone tries to approach you?
Zelda: The audacity.
I only have one cd, because my dad was stationed in Korea. I feel you on that.
I feel like the only kpop stan that owns ,, zero (0) merch
I work at cracker barrel, and immediately recognized the journal. I'm at work waaaaay too much.
08142019
today marks my third official day on my college campus! it’s stressful, it’s hectic, i’m homesick, but i’m hanging in there. i’m honestly excited for when classes start so i can have something to focus on other than my stressful thoughts.
JAKE THOUGHT STEPHEN SPOILED THE MOVIE OH MY GOD
I MEAN HE THOUGHT STEPHEN WAS REVEALING THE PLOT TWIST IN THE MOVIE
saw his life flash before his eyes
Date a Hufflepuff who does color guard
Slutty Witch
Written in the Stars
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your handwriting before. It’s an oddly personal thing, isn’t it?”
- Ann Aguirre
Group: BTS
Member: RM
Genre: soulmate au
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
You adjusted your book bag over your shoulder as you walked along the sidewalk, breathing in the sweet September morning air. The first day of the semester was always the most fun for you. Your timetable was lined up with new third-year university classes, full of opportunities to meet new and inspiring professors, as well as the potential for making new friends along the way.
But first… caffeine.
You’d become a regular at this cute coffee shop after first discovering it during your freshman year. It was conveniently located on campus, on the main floor of a building that had housed some of your former classes on the upper levels. It was never terribly busy though, because this building was on the far corner of campus, where fewer classes were held. In fact, the building contained more professor offices than classrooms.
You waited in line for a few moments, thinking about the class that was set to start shortly. How fitting it was that your very first class of the semester, poetry, would be with a professor who happened to be the son of an author you’d adored as a young pre-teen. His father was the reason you decided to become an aspiring author yourself. You’d been waiting for a chance to take a class with Professor Kim ever since you first started your program, but his classes had always seemed to fill up at a swift rate.
You were just beginning to wonder what kind of person he would be, when it was your turn to order your drink. Before you could step up to the cashier, though, a woman ran ahead of you, bumping into you along the way.
“Hey!” you said, but the woman didn’t even notice you. She was staring at the cashier, a male in his early twenties, before shoving her recently bought cup of iced caffe americano in his face, but not for the reason you initially thought.
“Did you write my name on this cup?” she demanded. “This looks exactly like my writing!”
The cashier peered at the cup and then gasped, and you rolled your eyes upon realizing you weren’t going to be getting your drink any time soon.
“Show me,” he replied, handing over a napkin and marker with shaky hands.
The woman took them and scribbled on the napkin before excitedly handing it back.
He took a long moment to analyze the writing on the napkin, before announcing, “That’s my handwriting, too!”
The woman squealed. “That means we’re soulmates!”
Several people behind you clapped at this announcement.
You bit your cheek. You didn’t want to be rude and ruin this moment for the new couple, but your class was starting in less than ten minutes, and this sort of scene was a common occurrence. Every single day people found their soulmates. Who, everyone knew, could be discovered by having the exact same handwriting as you, save for your signature - it was the only unique part of one’s handwriting. You patiently waited until they exchanged cell phone numbers and made a promise to meet up later, and then you ordered your drink.
You had yet to find your own soulmate, you mused as you sipped at your drink and took the stairs toward your classroom. You’d be ecstatic if it could wait until after you finished your master’s, or your undergrad at the very least. You were in your third of four years, now - more than halfway there.
You knew some of your friends had still dated people before finding their soulmate and settling down, but that had never seemed to appeal to you. More power to those who did, but the less distractions from your education and dream of becoming a best-selling author the better.
You found your classroom with ease. There were only a few empty seats when you arrived, and you chose to sit in one near the front of the room next to a girl around your age. After asking if that particular seat was taken and given the okay, you sat down.
You pulled out a notebook and pen, and then looked to the front of the room to find the professor’s desk empty. Professor Kim was nowhere to be found.
You were always looking for new friends, and it didn’t hurt to have someone in class you knew you could rely on for notes if you ever needed them. So you struck up a conversation.
“Is the professor not here yet?” you asked the girl beside you.
“No, not yet,” she said with a small sigh.
“I can’t wait to finally meet him,” you said, wondering if he was as talented a writer and poet as his father.
“Me either! Ugh, I’ve heard he’s a babe.”
“What?”
One of the doors to the classroom opened, and in came a tall man with black-framed glasses and blonde hair, wearing a white dress shirt and dark pants and carrying a messenger bag. He smiled up at the class, flashing you with a pair of dimples, as he unpacked his bag at the front desk. You felt like your eyes were glued to him; he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Everything about him seemed flawless, from the top of his styled hair to his shiny dress shoes. When you managed to finally tear your eyes away you noticed you weren’t the only person in the room who appeared affected. Your classmates, a large majority of whom were women, sat up straighter in their seats.
Keep dreaming ladies, you thought. The school had a strict no student-teacher relationships rule. Besides, for all you knew he could already be taken.
“First things first,” your new professor said, and handed a sheet of paper to a student in the front row. “An attendance sheet will be passed around at the start of every class. Attendance is mandatory, but you only need an eighty percent to receive the passing grade. Now.” He clapped his hands together and shot you with another disarming smile. “Please call me Namjoon. We have quite a small, intimate class compared to others so I think it’s only appropriate we all be on a first name basis.”
You didn’t even notice the attendance sheet being handed to you, until the girl on the opposite side of you pointed it out.
No other person had ever demanded such attention from you as this man. You decided it must be because you were so fond of his father’s writing. Yes, that had to be the reason. It was only natural to be fond of his son as well.
The very top of the attendance sheet stated to print your name, so that’s exactly what you did, and handed the sheet on to the girl beside you.
“For our first class I thought I’d make things a little light-hearted and fun, so why don’t we brainstorm a list of our favourite poets? Give me a name and why you like them.”
A girl in front of you raised her hand. “I’d have to say Shakespeare. For more than just his sonnets, but I’m particularly fond of Sonnet 130.”
“‘My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun’,” he quoted with a smile. “Good choice.” He turned his back to the class in order to write Shakespeare’s name on the blackboard. “Next?”
Another hand shot into the air. “Robert Burns? For works like A Red, Red Rose.”
“Excellent…” He scrawled the name across the board.
You were about to lift your hand to contribute to the conversation, when your eyes shifted from Namjoon over to the names on the blackboard beside him. The class discussion continued, but faded away into the background. Goosebumps erupted on your arms as you took in the sweeping letters - letters that looked as familiar to you as the back of your own hand. You swallowed with difficulty.
You’d just discovered your soulmate. Although it was great - in a way it’s what every person looked forward to most - it’s also the worst thing that could have happened to you right now.
You could already feel your bond wanting to get to know Namjoon better, practically pulling you like a magnet in his direction. But you were here on scholarship with very strict criteria. Maintaining the required high GPA was tough enough, but following the school rules was also a must. You didn’t have time for a soulmate, especially one that could threaten your education. And although you didn’t know much about Namjoon, you were aware this revelation could hurt his career as well, with the current no dating students rule in effect.
Besides losing your scholarship, you weren’t too keen on getting kicked out of school and having to start your program all over from scratch. You’d already come this far.
The attendance sheet… you remembered. Namjoon would recognize your writing in an instant. You spun around as best you could in your seat, and luckily the sheet was still being passed around in the row behind you. You asked for it back, hoping to sound nonchalant, and to your relief no one seemed to pay much attention to you. You scratched out your name so it couldn’t be read, and filled out your name with a signature instead. The only thing unique to your writing.
Your secret would be safe for now. But for how long… you weren’t entirely sure.
What If?
What if the mirror said Snow White was the farest, because that's who the Evil Queen truly felt was the farest, which is why she was so mad about it?
Please be careful.