Im Actually Sobbing - Tumblr Posts

You are not legally allowed to do this to me..... or anyone 😥😥😥😣😭😭

same energy

I'm absolutely thrilled at the fact that I can neither afford bts albums nor are they performing in my country for the tour yippee

guys hes gone. i seriously cannot do this

wait when did this happen?? everyone needs to go unfollow me now. i haven't finished my 300 followers even yet HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEEEEE

Bit of a whoopsie daisy

IM LOSING MY SHIT OMG-

WE GET TO KISS THEM FINALLY!!

more like make out with them-

If Bradley Uppercrust III won the first five years of the X-Games, then that means this mf has been in college for 7 years. You're telling me Mr. So–far–in–the-closet-the-locals-of-Narnia-know-him is in college for a DOCTORATE????? He's getting a motherfuckin PhD?????????

Hugs From Natasha

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Summary: Reader going to Natasha when they break down and start crying.

Warnings: Crying

You sniffled loudly as you attempted to keep the tears back. You just needed to find Natasha before you could break down.

You continued walking though the compounds halls until you gave up on trying to find her on your own, “Hey, JARVIS. Where’s Natasha.”

“Ms. Romanoff is in her room.”

You felt stupid, why had you not checked her room?

Keep reading

In the not so distant future, Celebrimbor comes to Aman.

He didn't respond to the summons right away, which surprised many, though they didn't comment on it, and once re-embodied Celebrimbor is very quiet, and very still, and doesn't say or do much beyond what is necessary.

His convalescence is not quite in keeping with what is usual, but the Valar and the Maiar who work among those who have recently appeared in Aman treat his new body carefully; they know that the soul inside it is still hurt, still damaged, still withered and gasping, and the day when Celebrimbor will be truly healed is far, far away.

There are elves among them, of course, and they escort Celebrimbor outside every day. They take him to places of surpassing beauty and he is gently complacent, acknowledging their kindness with a smile that's barely there, or a nod of thanks, but nothing more, until the movement and migration of the kingfishers along the lakeshores and up the major river valleys in Aman captures his attention.

There is no winter in Aman, just spring and summer and spring again, but the birds move into the valley where the newly awakened reside with some regularity, and their calls at dawn and midday make Celebrimbor sit upright in wonder, every time. Finally he asks for charcoal and paper, for paints and watercolor, and begins to draw the kingfishers and all their variations through the seasons.

This goes on for some time.

(When a well-meaning elf asks if he wouldn't rather work with metal, wouldn't rather hold a hammer and strike an anvil instead, he drops his brush and walks away suddenly, one hand cradling the other, and the elf has to collect his scattered drawings before they are taken by the wind. They do not ask again.)

One day an attendant loses track of Celebrimbor in the wild. Hours turn into days and soon a search is on. Some of the elves don't understand. They ask, what harm could possibly come to him here? One of the Valar who lingers nearby cuts the air with a gesture, his expression grave, and they fall silent.

Celebrimbor is found by the shore of a small, clear lake, hidden among the grasses with an injured kingfisher in his arms. He is filthy, and he is crying.

"It fell from the sky," he tells the same Valar who silenced the elves. "Can we save it, please? It's so badly hurt, it might be dying, it's done nothing wrong."

"Of course, of course," is the answer. "Of course, we can but try."

i love you so much 

this killed me.

but i remember everything

kirishima !!

omg omg

your art style is gorgeous!!!

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

kirishima doodles

IM CRYING YOU CANT LEAVE ME AT THIS PLEASE 😭

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹ Day 13: Hundred broken hearts - Sim Jaeyun

(synopsis) 🍂 he was so distant now, every passing day, breaking your heart into smaller pieces ₊⊹

sim jaeyun x fem!reader 🍂 angst 🍂 petnames, crying, cursing, arguing 🍂 heartbreak 🍂 wc 571

masterlist

you could feel him slipping away. he no longer looked at you with the same love in his gaze, or the way he would laugh at your jokes.

he just turned…cold.

everyday, you felt your heart break more and more.

the jake that once loved you and the jake you once loved was gone. now, there was some cold, distant person who was most definitely not your boyfriend.

every time you tried to talk with him, he would respond with a small nod and if you were lucky, you would get one word.

“jaeyun? what do you want for dinner?” you had asked one evening. jake didn’t even respond or look you in the eye. he never did anymore.

instead, you only got a shrug.

“hey babe? come look at these photos of layla i took!” jake smiled, his puppy smile really showing.

you missed the way he would get excited over small things or just smile.

his smile.

that’s what you missed so much.

but whenever you asked him if he was okay, he would shrug you off, going back to his video game.

were you that much a burden? when you started dating jake, he promised that he would never break you heart.

“it’s not our fate,” he said cheekily, a goofy smile adorning his face.

and you were a fool to believe him at the time, too blinded by what you thought would be an everlasting love.

as you lay in bed, you realized that he was gone. it wasn’t something you wanted to accept, but you had to.

he was gone and there was nothing you could to fix it.

before you knew it, heavy tears were rolling down your face—the salty tears collecting onto your pillow case.

you cried yourself to sleep that night.

so the next morning, you packed up a small amount of stuff into a bag, just needing to get out of the same space as him.

“baby? where are you going?” oh so now he cared.

you didn’t even spare him a glance and slipped on your shoes, annoyed that he only cared once you were halfway out the door.

“away. away from you,” you said, afraid that if you said more, your shaky voice would give your tears away.

“w-what? w-why?” for the first time, jake actually looked up at you. his expression shocked and his eyes brows scrunched together.

“why? jesus jake! have you ever noticed how awful you’ve been treating me lately? all i get is a nod or a shrug! i’m lucky if you even look at me!” you cry, letting the tears fall. “i-i just need time. away from you.” you whisper, not knowing if that was gonna be the full truth.

“fuck, baby i-”

“don’t call me that! i know that you don’t mean it cause if you really did, i wouldn’t be here, halfway out the fucking door!” you shouted, your vision now blurred from the tears.

jake looked like he was about to defend himself but then shut his mouth, knowing that you were right.

you opened the door, adjusting the bag on your shoulder and stepping out.

“goodbye sim jaeyun. call me when you realize how much you fucked up.” and with that, you walked out, your heart in so many pieces.

hundreds of broken pieces of your heart, scattered around you.

your heart was left broken, the fate of so many others.

hi…i’m so sorry for the angst 😭 i’m usually super weak and end up giving into giving angsty stories a happy ending but i decided to be a bit mean and make this a sad ending. if you enjoyed, please reblog and like! i appreciate it very much 💗

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jongbean

TheArchivist: my three archival assistants,

And yes, they smoke weed

Michael distortion: do they smoke weed?

TheArchivist: yes, actually.

Jane prentiss: You mean they aren’t just smoking cigarettes? But weed cigarettes?

TheArchivist: it’s called a bunt… not a weed cigarette… and yes, it’s a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we read statements. (They are my archival assistants.)

Helen distortion: they don’t look like they smoke weed

TheArchivist: Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

Fuck You.

I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking archival assistants are researching statements to calm me down I’m so mad.

Melanie: Your “weed smoking archival assistant” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on his belly. The one in the middle.

TheArchivist: I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Martin or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on him ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING

Basira: Well that escalated quickly……

TheArchivist: What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *martin grabs my shoulder* Come on Jon, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking his off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my archival assistants struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

Elias: haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE ARCHIVAL ASSISTANTS”, “THEY ALL RESEARCH STATEMENTS”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Martin” and his “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jonathan, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

TheArchivist: *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…

*leaves with my three weed smorking archival assistants to go hold hands and research statements.*

Daisy: this dude playin omg

TheArchivist: Come again? *The institute falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the institute is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Archivist publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Martin…. Sash-sasha… Tim… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see Beholding looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*

Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*