INTJ: *Googles ‘why can’t I cry when I’m sad’*
Google: Why psychopaths can’t cry, medical condition, mental illness
INTJ:
INTJ:
INTJ:
cherry valley forever
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INTJ: *Googles ‘why can’t I cry when I’m sad’*
Google: Why psychopaths can’t cry, medical condition, mental illness
INTJ:
INTJ:
INTJ:
tongue poke ;(
Eight Ways to Remember Anything by Alex Lickerman M.D.
Keep reading
Imagine
Stefano marrying someone who isn’t you
Stop apologizing. You don’t have to say sorry for how you laugh, how you dress, how you make your hair, how you do your makeup, how you speak. You don’t have to be sorry for being yourself. Do it fearlessly. It’s time to accept: this is you, and you gotta spend the rest of your life with you. So start loving your sarcasm, your awkwardness, your weirdness, your peculiar habits, your unique sense of humor, your voice, your talents, your everything. It will make your life so much easier to simply be yourself.
Danielle Mansutti | @thequotejournals (via thequotejournals)
UNDER THE GUN // MOVEMENTS
Stefano prompts 2 3 and 4
Stefano had followed you out on your friends night out without any of you guys noticing. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get hurt by anything or anyone. Stefano was just about to leave until he saw someone start flirting with you. As he snuck closer he could hear the conversation and how you didn’t try to stop the strangers advances. Not liking any of what he was hearing he barged in and forced you out of the place you were at causing a scene and you both to fight.
Ever since you both had gotten married Stefano wouldn’t let you do anything without him by your side.
“Stefano you need to leave me alone at some point it’s like your obsessed with me to the point where you won’t let me do anything!!!! I can’t even hang with friends!!!”
“I’m allowed to be obsessed with you, I’m your husband! You married me!”
“And you can hang out with friends but it seems like you can’t seem to remember we’re married and that we have vows!”
“I’m not listening to any of your crap right now Stefano, I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight.”
“You can’t leave me, til death do us part. That’s what our vows said.”
“There is a thing called divorce Stefano! God, I don’t know why I thought everything would get better after we married?!? And I was just going to stay somewhere else for tonight!”
“Did you really think this would ‘get better’ after we married?”
“Well…”
“Mi amore we are already at our best especially since you married me!!!There is no way this can get any better for you!”
“Arrogant son of a bitch!!!”
Stefano ended up dragging you home and locking you in your bedroom so you couldn’t leave him.
Sorry if this isn’t that good I really tried my best
Working on a little Sebastian and Stefano (and Obscura!) piece
Stefano headcanons pt.????
• Anyone who touches you loses both hands so they can never touch you again
• Most of his art is made with the help of the ones who have wronged you in some way
• Follows you in the shadows when you go out
• Won’t let Sebastian be within 100 miles ( exaggeration) of you
• Makes sure you always have a love mark to let others know that you are taken
• Wants to always look his best and be the best because you are HIS muse and he doesn’t want you leaving him
• You’ll have his children one day in the future
From the new prompt, Stefano: 4 & 15!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I did it. This frustrated me a bit, not gonna lie. Hope you like it, anon! <3 It’s uh longer than expected.
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Theman was a beast. The first time you’d encountered Stefano Valentini,you’d unknowingly interrupted him in the midst of creating amasterpiece. ‘Slaughteringinnocents’ was a better term, you found, but who were you to arguewithartistic genius? Blood splattered from the neck of the unfortunateMOBIUS agent in an infinite loop, tinting the artist’s fine clothes adeep crimson. You’d screamed, drawing his eyes to you in but afraction of an instant. Stefano let out a deep, rumbling chuckle andyou were struck with a horrifying realization: he was enjoying this.Your scream, your unbridled fear had somehow delighted this maniac!
“My,my,” Stefano said, “Such wonderful, deliciousfear.Like music to one’s ears…” A dangerous spark gleamed in hisvisible eye, causing shivers to run down your spine. “Tell me,cara,have you ever modelled fora professional photographerbefore?” As he said this, Stefano pointed his camera at you –hispredatory gaze disappearing behind the lens. “What say you wecreate a beautiful work of art together?”
Youdidn’t stick around long enough to answer, taking off like a bullettowards the nearest exit. Stefano pursued fora while –hot on your heels– but eventually lost track of you whenyou darted into a nearby shrub. By the skin of your teeth, you’descaped –only to fall into another foe’s hands. You hadn’t beenpaying attention. After your miraculous escape from Stefano’sclutches, you had been so distracted by your victory that you didn’tnotice something sneaking up on you.
Afirm blow to the head was all it took to knock you out.
Whenyou awoke, you were in a familiar placesurrounded by drooling monsters. Father Theodore’s little playthingshad you in chains. You were bound and beaten on the floor of the townchapel, at the mercy of one of his Harbingers. You tried to move but,brainless as they may be, these monsters had done a very good job oftying you up. The Harbinger groaned when it noticed you stirring,stalking closer to your restrained form. Its throat gurgled curiouslythrough the rebreather as it approached, flame thrower at the ready.The other creatures backed away, allowing for the flames to surroundyour body. You felt the searing heat from the fire begin boil yourskin and closed your eyes, fearing the moment it would eventuallytouch you.
Strangledcries of pain mingled with the sound of shattering glass. Heat flaredup around you and you dared not open your eyes. Someone had come toyour aid! You wanted to look, but another wave of heat prevented youfrom actually having a peek. You had a damn good idea who yoursaviour was,though. Among the screaming and tell-tale sounds of a fight, onenoise stood out: a camera shutter. You prayed to whatever God waslistening that you were wrong. When all went dead silent and the firehad stopped blazing around you, you finally opened your eyes. Ofcourse, it hadto be him.
Therehe was, as bloody as when you had first seen him. “Howis it that every time we meet,”you said, moving to scoot up against the back wall, “you’recovered in blood?”
Stefanolooked at himself and the sorry state his clothes were in –thenmerely shrugged in response. “Artists should never be afraid to gettheir hands dirty for their work, cara.” He dropped the Harbinger’shead before your feet, like a trophy kill, amused with the satisfyingsplatit made when it hit the floor. “Speaking of work…” Stefanostarted, wiping the blade of his dagger clean on the inside of hisshirt-sleeve. Your eyes widened as he crouched down beside you andtraced the tip of the blade over your cheek.
“Isthat why you saved me? So you could kill me yourself?!”
“Killyou?” Stefano chuckled. “Oh no, no, cara!I have big plans for you.” With a simple flick of his wrist,Stefano cut your bindings and freed your limbs, only to snag you in adeath grip himself. “ Idon’t like to share,you see. These mongrelsshould have known better than to touch anything that belonged to me.”
Which of my feelings are real? Which of the me’s is me?
Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness (via books-n-quotes)
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
Neil Gaiman, The Sandman (via books-n-quotes)
they’re talking to each other omg (‘:
they’re talking to each other omg (‘:
“First, I looked for a canvas. Not just any canvas.” ~The Painter, Layers of Fear
“It is the work of man to ask. It is the work of the artist to answer!” ~Sander Cohen, Bioshock (Burial at Sea)
“Nothing like the corruption of innocence to spark the fire of creation…” ~Stefano Valentini, The Evil Within 2
OH MY GOD