hopefully-my-last-blog - Tumblr blog

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

I’m so cringe and friendless omg

I took one look at my blog and it looks like a monster addict with cringe ass views

Just how I like it <333

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

imagine being this pointlessly aggressive towards learning disabled people and people who didn't get a good education or any education at all and people who learned their language through their environment and culture and working class dialect just to stroke ur own batshit ego lol im so glad none of my followers are like that!!!! :) u guys r the best : ) aren't you

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

Brutus and his girlbosses getting real tired of the new kid on a power trip

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

I get hornii at the thought of nice healthy relationships where both people actually love each other.

God that shit turns me up so much

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

he is zooming around and he is so cute i love him

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

New bedtime story

Reader finding Narrator’s romantic writings about them

Your place has gotten pretty disorganized recently, and it hasn’t been great for your mental health. You decide you need to tidy up and get rid of some things. 

The narrator shrugs his shoulders at this. Of course, he wants you to be in a good space mentally, but mess doesn’t really bother him that much.

Parts of the office were cluttered, and if he really gets overwhelmed, he can always pop out of the physical plane of existence and just be a voice. But if it makes you happy to clean, he’s not going to protest.

You do a few loads of laundry, take the trash out, and begin organizing some papers the narrator left around. You ask him permission before doing this, and he waves you off, saying that those were old projects and that he didn’t care what happened to them.

Well, you found something you hadn’t really anticipated. You’re leaning against his desk, trying to keep a neutral face while you read.

It’s… detailed romantic descriptions. About you and him. How soft he imagines your skin to be, how tenderly you look at him when the lovelight is in your eyes, his strong and firm arms wrapping around you, passionate kisses and declarations of affection. Holy-

You keep reading. Chapters of undying love, pages of yearning, paragraphs dedicated to how soft your lips are- You’re becoming more flustered and giddy by the second. The narrator walks back in.

“Ah, I see you’re taking a break. Found anything inter-” He stares at you with wide eyes. Your expression- You’re looking up at him and grinning shyly. Your face is flushed, and you’re giggling. What on earth?

“Ahem. Yes, I know my writing is excellent, but that’s a new reaction. What did you-”

He remembers what was in the pile of papers now. He had forgotten- He’s always had slight memory problems- 

He rushes forwards and snatches the pages from your hands. “That’s enough of that, thank you. I- I need to-” His face is burning. Oh, the humiliation, and the inevitable rejection-  “I don’t know how these papers got in here, I- I’ve never seen this writing before in my life.”

You try very hard to not laugh, knowing that he’s not in a position to take it well. His writing style was very iconic. No one could write like he did, let alone break into your home and leave the pages around. It was the most bald faced lie he’s ever told you. 

“But- I didn’t get to the ending!” You whine, grinning. “Do we make it as a couple, or does the evil Lord Dred-ful keep us apart? Come on man, don’t leave me in suspense. It’s fantastic work, some of your best.”

He’s caught in between his ego and his embarrassment. He blusters and stumbles through a mishmash of sentences. “I- you- it’s, well- The thing is-”

You continue to tease him. “Now if my literature analysis skills are any good, I’d say you like me. More than like me, if your reaction is anything to go by. Tell me, are you just as passionate a man as you are a writer? Maybe we should find out~”

His stuttering and stumbling gets worse. You’re actively flirting with him instead of being disgusted or horrified, so he supposes it’s a victory. “I-I-I-I-”

You finally take pity on him. “I feel the same way. I love you, narrator. Without reservation or hesitation.” You’re quoting him, writing your character. It’s an odd feeling. “For real though, do you want to try and make a romantic relationship work? I’m very willing, but if you’re hesitating, we can just remain friends. No pres-”

He pulls you into a kiss. You hum delightedly and kiss him back. You pull away after a few minutes, both panting.

“...So. How’d your writing compare to the real thing?” You ask.

“...” 

“...”

“...”

“...Your lips are more wonderful than I wrote them to be.” Woah, now that was high praise. Not only not taking the opportunity to boast, but to make you feel good about yourself?

You drag him in for another dozen kisses. You resurface again, the both of you completely love drunk.

“Your writing is going to improve with how much hands-on experience I’m planning on giving you.”  

You’ve never seen him so happy. 

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

*inhales*

FUCK

*Rings bell* Come here TSP community. Come get your slop.

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

Ahhhhh I’m so lonely :,)

what if narrator were WERY busy writing new script for game, but then reader begin to distract and tease him with something like... kisses him, hugs him from behind and whispering to him “i love you so much”

Narrator writing a script and reader distracting him

He’d been busy for weeks, and you were pretty fed up. The narrator’s new project was taking up so much of his time. You were lonely, and wanted his company. 

He’s hunched over his desk, drafting and redrafting, muttering to himself and sighing. Occasionally he crumples up a paper and tosses it away.

You snuggle up next to him, pressed flush against his skin, and whisper in his ear, “How’s work going?” then you press a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Oh!” The narrator is startled, but not unpleasantly so. And that kiss- You can hear the smile in his voice. “Quite well, reader. I think another month or two will make it perfect.”

Your patience wasn’t going to last that long. You sigh, breath hot against the back of his head. “Of course, take your time.” You gently plant kisses near his collar. His face begins to burn. “Ahem. Y-yes. Just a bit longer, and th-then it will be done.”

You bury your face in the back of his shoulder. “Mhm. I’m sure it’s worth the wait.”

He’s getting more distracted by the second. You’re so warm. He takes in a steadying breath. You smile into his neck. It was working!

You lean forward and wrap your arms around his chest. “I’ll let you get back to it. I love you~” You’re about to withdraw completely, when the narrator grabs your hand.

“Wait, where are you going?”

You do your best to keep the amusement out of your voice. “I’m giving you the space to work, of course. Keep it up, handsome.”

Your hand drifts out of his, and it takes quite a bit of inner strength to not immediately chase after you. What did you think you were doing? You should be coming back here right now and giving him more attention and-

His mind traces back over the past few weeks. Ah. he had rather been neglecting his delightful duties as your partner, hadn’t he? Well, this was a mistake that needed fixing. 

The moment the door clicks behind you, you hear a shuffle of papers and quick footsteps. You grin. You’d finally managed to convince him to take a break.

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

I'm surprised the narrator in the stanley parable hasn't turned into a tumblr sexyman

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

Me When Im lonely and touch starved :,)

a love letter from the Narrator to the reader

(Okay I’m posting it. It’s kind of long so I’ll put it under the cut, with a brief tag list at the end)

Keep reading

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

Narrator: Stanley..what are you doing? Are you..- ARE YOU HITTING THE FUCKING GRIDDY?! IN MY OFFICE!?

Stanley: *busting down sexual style*

[hopefully-my-last-blog]

I realized, emo, scene, gay etc (as you homophobes like to call them) are not dangerous at all 💀💀💀. The people who your parents said you’re going to end up are the people who BULLY those kids. They are the most chill people ever. The most THEYLL do is chug like 15 monsters or redbull not DRUGS (I hope)