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Its Not My Fault - Blog Posts

1 year ago

SNOW!!!!!

Okay so, it snowed a few days ago and of course I was super stoked because snow, and I knew that more was on the horizon for Saturday.

So it’s Saturday. It’s the first day of Presidents Day Weekend, the day of the Flyers V. Devils Stadium game. It’s also the day I was meant to go ice skating again.

I’ve been going through what I call “Skate withdrawl” since it’s been almost a month since I last gone skating. I was finally able to get my poppy to bring me today, and yes I knew there would be snow but it went from a Winter Weathert Advisory to a Winter Weather Warning because it’s a full blown storm baybeeeee.

I’m sad that I’ll have to wait to go tomorrow BUT I am happy we got way more snow than predicted, so I guess I can’t be too sad.

Signed-

Your resident Snow Slut™️


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6 months ago

I made the mistake of pointing out Kathryn Hahn voiced the new Wendy’s add. It had come on tv during an ad break while my family was watching sports.

I had to tell them she was the one who played Agatha in Wandavision and Agatha All Along.

my family stared at me like I’m a psycho for knowing that


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6 months ago

Me after I help my friends with their relationships successfully, but I’ve only been in a 3 month long situationship 🤑🤑

(Situationship ended with both of us in misery lmao.)


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2 months ago

has haruka's old & dead soul been possessing me bc If I dont listen to it's not my fault for one day I start having withdrawals I have been looping this song for DAYS for goodness sake


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10 years ago
If Harrison Ford Has A Twitter Or Anything Like That, It'd Be Awesome If He Posted, "Damn It, Chewie."

If Harrison Ford has a Twitter or anything like that, it'd be awesome if he posted, "Damn it, Chewie."


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1 month ago

i’m absolutely pissed that i almost lost my daily drawing challenge ON DAY 4 CAUSE I GOT SICK

I’m Absolutely Pissed That I Almost Lost My Daily Drawing Challenge ON DAY 4 CAUSE I GOT SICK

day 4 of drawing daily;-; i only managed a doodle but it’s better than not posting:’D

(this is future me, i somehow miscounted cause im actually on day 3 rn, idk how i messed up something that simple)


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4 months ago

alrighty we're starting a night of no sleep off with stuff i like about sherlock gnomessssss!!!!! *sigh*

we're starting off this post with moriarty. i feel like he has a pretty deep character for how bad the movie is. like.. on one hand, he's evil. he wants to crush all the gnomes, get rid of sherlock, yadda yadda.

on the other hand, he doesn't seem rude to everyone. especially ronnie and reggie- i mean sure he bosses them around, but the trio does act like friends in some scenes. in the screenshare scene, i believe ronnie helps him do it, the three peering down at the screen. he's not cruel to either of the two, which i feel like you could expect him to be cruel if he had "henchmen" given his overall moral code.

so like.. the pie has two sides. i guess. I'M NOT TRYING TO EXCUSE HIS ACTIONS TRUST. but like.. idk. i think that i'd like to see a spinoff of what moriarty, ronnie, and reggie were doing in the time that sherlock and the gang were looking for clues.

and he's clearly not the cruel, dark moody type of evil. that doesn't really need to be clerified, obviously. he's meant to be a kind of giggly-insane type of villian. but like.. IFFFF he had a moral code, where do you think that line would be? he clearly doesn't have much problem smashing gnomes, but then again, he's never shown interacting with ANY of them besides sherlock, watson, and gnomeo. (does he talk to juliet?? i don't think he does but idk.)

another thing. imagine how great it would've been if moriarty crashed the spring festival thing in the garden at the end. just a thought.

haha another night of no sleep coming right up


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2 years ago

Dad: do the dishes!

Me: *does the dishes*

Dad: why did you put this dish in the dishwasher! You know better than to be careless and put something in the dishwasher that doesnt belong in there.

Dish: I say "dishwasher safe". Of course they put me in the fucking dishwasher!


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2 years ago

this is me. im the 20yo currently addicted to house md. my generation was raised on the exploration of pink money i can smell its reek from miles away. this show is so clearly queerbaiting and yet. and yet im being baited

Absolutely facinated by the fact that there's aparently a whole new generation of House MD fans?? Like, there are people who are into this batshit example of 2000s queerbaiting who weren't suckered in over a decade ago???


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4 months ago

NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND || CA

——————————————————

summary: You want more from Carlos and he can’t provide it.

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warnings: Angst, it’s just kinda miserable sorrryyyyy

a/n: I wanted to write something depressing….but I might write a happy part two if that’s something people want?

MASTERLIST

NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND || CA

Your room was shrouded in darkness only momentarily broken by the occasional car light and the glimmer of distant buildings out of the window.

The bed sheets were ruffled, pulled around your legs splayed out across your stomach. You watched your phone light up and then turn off, over and over. It was late. You should be asleep.

Each time your phone lit up the room your eyes watched it, hopefully reading each notification to no avail. He hadn't messaged.

You knew losing another game to Novak was going to be difficult for him, you had been there after the Olympics, wiped his tears and held him trying to help him forget the match.

You vividly remember the softness in his eyes after that game, the way he broke down convinced he'd disappointed his country. This time was different. It had been weeks since the match and you hadn't heard anything from him.

Forgotten was the usual post-match call, and the promise to fly you out or come see you the moment he got a chance. Instead, you were reduced to watching his Instagram stories and staring mindlessly at the read notification under the message.

You weren't his girlfriend, and he didn't owe you anything but when he found his way to your bed after each match and invited you to more and more events were you crazy to think it had gone beyond casual.

Trying to turn away from your phone that taunted you each time someone other than Carlos messaged you tried to fall asleep. The bed felt empty and cold, no matter how many layers you wore it didn't replicate the heat of lying next to him.

It was like you could feel the ghost of his hand against your body, staving off the sleep you desperately craved. Instead, you were being haunted by the memories of long nights spent with his body pressed against yours, his moans echoing through your mind.

Just as your eyes began to feel heavy and the memory of him subsided, your phone blared out behind you. You didn't need to turn towards it to see who it was, the ringtone alone indicated it was the very man who had been plaguing your mind.

For a second you considered ignoring it. Letting him feel what it's like to be waiting by the phone for your response. But every muscle and nerve in your body pulled you towards the phone, dragging you to pick it up.

Pressing the green button his voice flooded your senses, "Amor, ¿estás en casa?" (love, are you home?) The pet name sent shivers down your spine,

"Yeah, I'm at home." You tried to sound uninterested like you hadn't been sat by your phone for hours just waiting for his call.

"Estaré allí en diez minutos." (I'll be there in ten minutes.) You let out a scoff, taken back by the rashness. There have been times when Carlos impulsively visited you but never after not talking to you for nearly a week without reason. But before you could protest his voice came back through the phone, "Te extraño" (I miss you).

Your shoulders relaxed and your chest fluttered. The effect he held over you needed to be studied because you lost any semblance of a backbone when you were around him. "I'll see you soon then".

The next ten minutes were the longest of your entire life. tiding your room and making it look less like a warzone was the top priority but it seemed to take seconds and you found yourself sitting in the kitchen waiting for the knock on the door.

When it came your heart raced, but you moved towards the door. Pulling it open he stood casually, wearing jeans and a hoodie with his hair still buzzed although looking messier and his big brown eyes focused on you.

You moved to the side to let him into your apartment and he faltered slightly, watching you with a scrutinising gaze. Suddenly in your pyjama shorts, you felt exposed and vulnerable.

"How have you been?" You tried to ease the palpable tension between you as the regret for allowing him in began to creep in. But every time you looked at him your resolve crumbled so you needed to keep your distance.

He looked down at his feet, then up, meeting your eyes as he took a deep breath before talking. "AO was shit, you know how frustrating it is to come so close, again, and lose. Novak was injured and I still couldn't beat him, what does that say about my tennis." His shoulders were tense and as you dared to look at his face you could see the bags under his eyes had worsened.

You wanted to be there for him but you couldn't help but be annoyed that this was the first conversation you'd had in weeks.

"you could've called." you watched as his eyes met yours before quickly glancing away.

"I know"

"or texted" He shuffled from one foot to the other, though usually, the sight of him uncomfortable would cause a tightness in your chest, you couldn't help but push for answers. "Or really done anything other than randomly showing up at my apartment at 3 am after not texting me for weeks." you paused and looked at him, "I would've been there for you."

His gaze focused in on you and for a second a softness passed through his gaze before it shifted to frustration, he stood up straighter. "Come on, Y/N, that's not fair AO was-"

"No Carlos, you know what's not fair. You telling me before AO that you cared about me and wanted me to come watch your matches and sit in the coaches box to then not talking to me after one shit result." His eyes widened shocked by the outburst. You'd never opened up about how it felt to be his secret. With countless promises thrown your way to end up unfulfilled.

He stepped forward, the distance had shrunk and you could smell the aftershave that seemed to stain all your belongings after a visit. You knew it would hang around reminding you of this moment too. His large hand reached out to take your hand and in a moment of pure instinct, you stepped back.

"I can't do this anymore Carlos."

"What?" His brows were furrowed, deeply knitted together as he watched you play with the rings on your fingers.

"I don't want this anymore, I don't want to constantly be waiting by my phone for you, or hoping that this match is the match where you'll finally introduce me to anyone as your girlfriend instead of a friend. I'm tired of constantly having to listen to interviews and jokes about you being single, or you being rumoured with whichever woman it is this week. I'm constantly your second chance and sometimes it doesn't even feel like I'm second. I'm so tired of loving you Carlos when I don't even think you like me."

Your eyes began to water as you focused your eyes on the floor, you didn't want to cry in front of him, you were determined not to let him know the effect he held over you. He looked shocked. Sure he knew you cared about him but you truly doubted he ever thought it had gone that far.

"I didn't know"

But how couldn't he? You had spent countless nights laughing and talking until the sun rose. You'd spent afternoons cooking and laughing every time Carlos burnt something as simple as pasta. You'd fallen asleep next to him as he held you in a way that felt more intimate than any sex could and yet he couldn't tell you loved him.

You couldn't help but let the tears fall as you watched the man you loved watching you so cluelessly as if loving you was so distant from his mind that he couldn't even comprehend it.

"You should go." You walked past him back towards the door as his hand reached reach for your arm. He pulled you to face him his hand reaching your cheek and his eyes meeting yours. Tenderly he wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Por favor no hagas esto" (please don't do this) his voice was soft, a quiet plea as he so carefully held your face. You took a shaky breath in, lifting your hand to his, and watching as his brown eyes softened under your gaze.

For a moment you considered giving into him and falling back into the pattern you had gotten so used to but something inside you knew you needed to draw the line. You pulled his hand from your cheek, kissing his palm lightly before putting it down back at his side.

"I need more."

He began walking towards the door, his head down and shoulder slumped. Before he left he hesitated and just for a second your heart began to race thinking he was going to turn around and tell you he wanted more and he wanted it with you.

But he didn’t, instead he took another step forward out of the door and left without a goodbye.

Pushing the door closed your head fell against it as you let the tears rack through you. Suddenly the prospect of being without him felt so much more daunting than when he stood in front of you.

You slid down the door, sitting against it as you cried and waited for him to come back and knock on the door.

But, when the sun began to rise over the buildings and the tears had dried on your cheeks you realised it was truly over and while you would be broken his world would go on turning.


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