I-was-supposed-to-do-other-things

This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous with the amount of compliments that I get on my hair but honestly, I feel very self conscious about it. I always have, since I was a kid. I feel like it looks big, horrible, takes up space and isn’t “dainty” and “feminine”. It doesn’t fit into Eurocentric beauty standards. And the things my mum would say to me growing up didn’t help either. She would constantly straighten my hair, brush it even whilst it’s dry (something you’re NOT supposed to do), and constantly tell me it looks big and ugly and to tie it up or straighten it. To this day, when I look in the mirror with my hair all out, I still hear her comments in my head. And not feeling as pretty as other girls as a kid because they all were white and had straight hair

:/

     “I think I’ve gone about this the wrong way. I said I’d hold up the school
     rules, but then you all pissed me off and I kinda let everyone do their
     own thing. I’m gonna fix that now. I said that if a Mastermind murdered
     a student, they’d be held to the rules of the game. In this case, I suppose
     there’s no need for a trial. We know who the blackened is. As your
     Headmaster, I’m making my announcement…

     Komaeda Nagito has been found guilty of murder,
     amongst PLENTY OF OTHER OFFENSES.
                                  SHALL WE PUNISH HIM?
                                          MAJORITY VOTE.”

One day during a typical gardening day around town, Phillip goes and talks to the other person available, Venus.

Phillip: Hey Venus can I ask you something?

Venus: Ok, but make it quick. I have a lot of gardening to do today.

Phillip: Ok so, I’ve been hanging around with this person for a while and today this person made a move on me. I think this person may have a crush on me.

Venus: Well, isn’t that adorable? Nothing like Puppy Love I suppose.

Phillip: Well the thing is, I think I may like this person too.

Venus: O.O Oh…um…

Phillip: What is it?

Venus: It’s just that…well…

Phillip: WHAT?

Venus: Don’t you think this person is a little…young for you?

Phillip: Huh? Oh no, we’re the same age.

Venus: What? Wait, who are you talking about?

Phillip: This cute pirate guy who just came into town. Who are YOU talking about?

Venus: Me? I was talking about Fel-…you know what I better get to work.

Misconception

There is actually a very obvious misconception that most people seem to ignore. You don’t really need to get to a relationship to get to know people, you get to know people to have a relationship with them. The most common reasons why there are a lot of failed relationship this days was because they tend to commit themselves to people they barely know and break up with them when things get sour once they realize that a relationship won’t work with them. You should supposed to get to know people first in order to assess if you do complement each other. And by get to know, I mean really get to know them. One of the best thing to really know someone is to see how they will handle anger. I’m not saying that you will taunt them to have a fight with you but observe them. See how they will handle stress and anger. Once you see how they will react to such situation, check if you could handle a person they will become when they get to that point. If you can’t handle it then don’t bother getting into a relationship with them cause it will just result to a total mayhem and you might even break some hearts that you are not supposed to break.

A couple years ago, I vowed to myself never to date a dude with a beard. Not because beards are dirtier than poop, that study was not a thing yet. Although I did manage to come across a rather foul smelling one in the early days of the beard resurgence.

No, I had other reasons. Political reasons.

You know why? Because right at the point when beards were becoming ubiquitous was also when Vajazzling was starting to be a thing. REALLY? I thought to myself. Men get to skip their ONE grooming thing, and I am supposed to have a rhinestone encrusted vulva? I THINK NOT.

[…] It is expensive as hell to be a woman. It also involves a lot of effort, and it seems like every goddamned trend they come up with for us involves spending more money and putting in more effort. Then, the second you think you’re doing OK for a minute is the moment they tell you to encrust your vulva with rhinestones. It never ends.

[…] Sure! There are occasional trends now that make things easier on women – leggings, yoga pants, blousy dresses, maxi dresses, ponchos – but said trends are always met with indignant fury from both men and women for either failing to produce boners or succeeding all too much.

But those are few and far between. There’s more vajazzling, more waxing, more tops and dresses no one can conceivably wear a bra with, more botox, more Spanx, more asshole bleaching, more figuring out what the hell contouring is even supposed to be, more diets, more keratin treatments, more facials, more bikini bodies, more flawless post-baby bodies, more pregnancy abs, more cleanses, more cosmetic foot surgery for the purpose of looking better in heels, more eyelash extensions, more eyelash dying, more lip plumping devices, more vaginal steaming … not to mention “waist training.”

Yeah. Thanks 2015! Women get “waist training” – where we are supposed to mess with the placement of our internal organs in the quest for a tinier waist – and dudes? DUDES GET DADBODS.

Now, let me just say, the thing they are calling “Dadbod” is kind of my actual preferred type. I’m into it!  But let me also say that it’s just frustrating to see men get high fives for Dadbods in the midst of the requisite 15,000 pre-summer articles about whether or not a woman has managed to achieve a “bikini bod” or not. I mean, really. Fuck you! And if you have a Dadbod and a beard, I do not believe you should get to make any ridiculous demands on women. That should be the rule.
— 

Frisky Rant: Why Do All The Trends For Dudes Involve Them Getting To Be Lazier?       

(Not to mention that 99% of these body “trends” for women are seriously unhealthy physically as well as, obviously, mentally.)          

  • what she says:i'm fine
  • what she means:the simpsons movie was entertaining, certainly, and ultimately just felt like a long episode of the show, which is a brilliant thing because when the simpsons is good, it's great. and of course with any cartoon show there's a certain degree to which you must suspend disbelief- you have to accept that things aren't always going to work the way they would in the real world because cartoons don't follow the same rules. that all being said, i'm willing to look past other logical inconsistencies or violations of physics as a whole in the simpsons universe but it just doesn't make sense to me that the residents of springfield would be trapped under the dome for so long. they do make attempts to escape, various attempts in various ways, and all are unsuccessful- but are we supposed to really believe that none of them at any point just dug under the dome? it wouldn't be difficult, especially with cartoon physics. digging under the dome would be effective and efficient and the problem would be solved instantly. furthermore, the simpson family literally escape the dome through a sink hole. the rest of the town KNOW it's possible to escape through the ground. all of the people of springfield combined couldn't come up with imitating this in a more calculated and scientific way so as to allow passage in and out of town? ultimately the entire movie is based on an entire town (with a population of about 30000 according to various wiki pages) not thinking "hey we could just fucking dig a tunnel"
2

I know what I’m supposed to be in the very big picture. The two things that really matter is you get to be a good man and a good dad. That’s really it for me. If, in the interim, in this little journey of life, I can do some good or interesting work, or do something that’s a little outside of what others are doing, then boy, I’m blessed.

5

Happy Birthday, Dorian (slytherinandoutofme)! A little sexy Laundry Room Drarry for your trashy, trashy pleasure. You are such a lovely person, Dorian, and I am so happy we’ve become friends. LOVE YOU. xoxoxoxox


SPIN CYCLE : A Laundry!Drarry Non-Magic AU

It was about bloody time.

Harry supposed that being down to only one pair of clean pants would do that to a bloke. It’s just that he had so very many more important things to do other than sudsing up his jumpers and trousers. Laundry was completely and utterly boring.

He sighed, hopping up on top of the dryer and leaning back against the cold stone wall. It probably wasn’t appropriate to be down in his building’s laundry room wearing only his boxers and a ratty old t-shirt, but he had made the decision to chuck the trousers he had been wearing in with the lot at the last moment. It had seemed like a decent enough idea at the time.

It wasn’t likely that anyone would be down to do laundry at 2am on a Tuesday anyway. He was probably safe from thoroughly terrifying his neighbors for now.

There was one neighbor in particular that Harry wouldn’t have minded getting caught by, and in a fair bit fewer articles of clothing, at that. The bloke was utterly lovely, and completely, hopelessly out of his league. At least he was realistic about his love life. If one couldn’t be lucky in love, he could at least be realistic.

He closed his eyes, picturing the blond from 4C unlocking his door, shooting Harry a friendly smile over his shoulder, groceries tucked under one arm. It was infuriating, really, how a man could make the simple act of unlocking his bloody flat door look sexual. Completely unfair. And rude, at that.

Harry shifted slightly, uncrossing his ankles and settling atop the thrumming machine. Oh.

OH.

He shifted again and couldn’t help the low groan that resounded in his throat. He gripped the edge of the machine and experimentally rolled his hips.

“Fuck,” he murmured, heartbeat picking up.

He should stop. He should definitely, absolutely hop his pervy arse off the machine and wait for the cycle to be done in his flat like a normal bloody person. Only, he had already convinced himself out of his trousers and established that it was highly unlikely that anyone would come down to do laundry at this hour, so really, he was probably fine to have a quick…spin.

“Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he nearly cracked the back of his head against the wall.

There, in the doorway to the laundry room, stood his neighbor. The fit one.

Shite.

How had he not heard the bloody door open? Thinking quickly, he brought one of his knees up to his chest, hoping to hide the evidence of his rather inconvenient fantasy.

“Err…no. Just, y’know, spin cycle and all that,” Harry managed to get out, making what he hoped was a casual gesture with his hand.

The blond smirked at him, setting his basket of clothes down on the table in the center of the room. He crossed his arms and leaned back on the edge of the table.

“I’m sure.”

He looked good. Really good. Harry wondered briefly how much a black sweater like that cost. It hugged his slender frame just enough to make Harry’s pulse throb, but it was not so fitted as to be overtly indecent.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry had peeked at the man’s mail enough times to have committed it to memory. Not that he was stalking Draco, of course. That would be weird. They just happened to get home around the same time from work. And check their mail at the same time. If Harry had to get a cup of coffee at the shop across the street to ensure that the timing lined up some days, then so be it. No big deal.

Draco shrugged his shoulders, turning so that his back was to Harry as he sorted his clothes.

“Lucky girl.”

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Draco turned back around, holding a pair of light green pants that Harry was most definitely not looking at. “The one you were thinking of when I walked in,” Draco offered, inclining his head thoughtfully, “She’s a lucky girl.”

Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. “Well, as it would seem, I’m not…inclined that way.”

“Oh?” Draco said, raising both eyebrows.

“Christ…” Harry muttered. He’d really done it now. Did he have to ruin every bloody attempt that anyone made at polite conversation with him?

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re not one of those conservative busy bodies who’s going to go and get me evicted for, y’know indecent lifestyle, or whatever, are you?”

Draco grinned, giving a low chuckle that made Harry’s toes curl.

“There wouldn’t be much of a point in doing that, seeing as I’d have to get myself chucked out on my arse too,” he said, running his teeth over his bottom lip.

Harry nearly choked. “What d’you…oh. OH. You’re…?”

“I fancy men, yes.”

“Really?”

This was completely impossible. Things like this did not happen to him.

Draco was smirking again. Harry reckoned that things like this happened to Draco all the bloody time. The gorgeous tosser probably had blokes flinging themselves at his feet daily.

“Do you require proof, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. He swore his heart was trying to escape from his ribcage.

“You know my name,” Harry supplied lamely, trying to regain control of his body.

Draco smiled, pushing off the table and walking slowly toward him. He looked positively predatory. Harry made a little cough to keep from doing something awful like squeaking.

“Of course I know your name.”

He was close now. He paused, his thighs nearly touching Harry’s bare knees, giving him a slow once-over that left Harry hot all over. When his eyes met Harry’s again, there was no way to misread his intention.

Draco wanted him.

That thought alone nearly drove him over the edge.

And then Draco was leaning in, his palms planted on either side of Harry, the machine tremoring beneath them. Harry could feel his breath, the heat of his body. He bit down on his lip.

“Did you lock the door?” Harry asked, breathy. He already knew the answer.

Draco leaned forward, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of Harry’s throat. He groaned in response.

“Do you really care?”

Harry just managed to shake his head before Draco’s mouth met his own in a kiss that left him grateful he was already sitting.

He had thought about this before. Really, he had imagined doing any number of filthy things with his beautiful blond neighbor, but nothing compared to having the man here, in person.

It took Draco’s slender fingers threading through his hair to knock him into the realization that this was actually happening to him. With shaking hands, he fisted the front of Draco’s perfect sweater and pulled him closer.

Draco smiled against his mouth, knocking Harry’s knees apart with his hips. “I can’t believe you, Harry,” he breathed, moving to press a trail of kisses along Harry’s jaw that left his heart hammering. “Writhing about on your bloody machine, hand practically down your pants.” He bit down on the sensitive skin below Harry ear, making him gasp.

“I was thinking about you,” Harry all but moaned, head dropping back to give Draco better access.

The noise that Draco let out could only be described as feral. And then his hands slid under Harry’s shirt, wrapping around him and pulling him flush against his own chest. His tongue traced Harry’s bottom lip, teasing, tasting.

Harry tilted his head, allowing their mouths to fit together more perfectly, and eagerly parted his lips. When Draco’s tongue finally slid in, against his own, he nearly keeled over from the pleasure of it.

It was obscene, really, the things the blond man could do with his tongue. Harry couldn’t remember ever having kissed someone who was able to make the simple act of mouths moving together so completely filthy.

“Tell you what, Harry…” Draco said, pulling back slightly. His mouth was wet and swollen, and Harry wanted it back on his at once.

He must have looked quite put out, because Draco was smiling at him, running a thumb over his bottom lip.

“How would you like me to suck you off?” he said, like he was simply asking to borrow a dryer sheet. His smile grew wider.

Harry’s brain short-circuited. “H-here?”

“Here.”

“Right—right now?”

“Right now.” Draco’s hand was sliding along the front of Harry’s boxers.

Harry could feel every movement through the thin fabric and couldn’t help the moan that tore from his throat.

Draco leaned back in, running his tongue along the curve of Harry’s ear. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, hmm?” He tapped his fingers against the metal top of the dryer. “Bet you’ll barely last two minutes with this thing going under your arse.”

Harry was sure no one would be able to breathe under the given circumstances. He willed air in and out of his lungs, if only so that he could be conscious for surely what was to be the most mind-blowing blowing of his life.

“Alright then,” he supplied, breaths coming in short pants.

He could feel Draco’s grin against his neck. And then, his hand dove beneath Harry’s boxers, freeing his unbearably hard cock, already red and leaking.

“Shite,” Draco hissed, staring down for several moments, slowly palming Harry’s erection. His eyes snapped to Harry’s after several strokes. “You’re perfect.” His face broke into a bright, genuine smile.

Harry barely had time to register the words before the pad of Draco’s tongue was traveling, hot and wet, along the underside of his cock. He gasped, hips jerking up. After following the same trail several more times, Draco’s tongue began to swirl around and around Harry’s head in decadent, lazy swipes.

Harry propped himself up on one hand, while the other made its way into Draco’s hair. Draco gave a low hum of approval, and, completely without warning, took more than half of Harry’s cock into his mouth in a single, divine thrust. Harry was nearly blinded by the pleasure of it.

He watched as Draco’s lips moved up and down, his achingly hard erection disappearing in and out of that warm, wonderful mouth. Draco sucked harder, cheeks going hollow. He let out noises of pleasure every so often that vibrated around Harry’s cock in the most incredible way. He was grateful that no one lived on the basement floor, for he surely would have ruined anyone’s attempts at proper sleep.

And the machine. The bloody dryer thrummed and thrummed against his arse, sending shocks of pleasure through him that made his thighs tremble. The whole thing was completely wicked. He was certain he’d be getting off for days on the mere memory of how he clenched up atop the machine, while Draco’s glorious mouth sucked and licked at his prick.

He was going to come soon, he knew it. His body felt like it was about to blow apart from the force of the various sensations. The heat in his gut was building, his arms were trembling, and he knew he was probably gripping Draco’s hair with a bit too much force. The other man didn’t seem to mind, though.

“Oh god, Draco, I think I— FUCK!” With a spectacular thrust, he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Draco’s throat, and he completely lost it. The heat in his belly burst open, blinding and wonderful, pulsing through him.

Draco merely sucked him deeper, swallowing, taking everything and running his hands up and down Harry’s thighs in encouragement. He let Harry ride out his orgasm with a few shallow thrusts before removing his mouth and slowly straightening back up.

Harry reckoned he was floating. He was quite sure of it, in fact, and would have liked nothing more than to float up to his room with Draco and have a good kip. Draco!

His eyes flew open, taking in the sight of the blond man before him, currently running his tongue over his bottom lip and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Harry smiled back, reaching out a hand to pull Draco closer.

Just then, however, the machine promptly stopped its pleasant vibration, and a horrible, strident beep emitted from the top. Both men jumped. Draco even let out a little yelp.

Staring with wide eyes, they merely blinked at each other, startled by the sound that neither had been anticipating. And then, all at once, they doubled over in laughter.

After several moments, when they both had begun to calm down, Harry looked back at Draco. He blushed, running a hand through his hair.

“So…” he began, smiling shyly. “You’ve still got your load, then.” He glanced down pointedly at Draco’s trousers. “Reckon you might like a go of it?”

Harry tapped the top of the dryer, mimicking Draco’s earlier gesture. He gave a little shrug. “Y’know. If you’re interested, that is.”

Draco laughed, planting one palm on either side of Harry’s thighs, causing Harry to forget how to breathe properly all over again.

“Alright then,” he said, grinning. And then he leaned in.  

Cursed by WildJinx

“You angered the wizard,” the mayor says, a bit more calmly this time. Jongin glares at him when he takes a seat on the bed beside his mother. He can’t do anything but watch as the mayor smoothes a hand through his mother’s hair when he’s pinned to the floor and severely outnumbered. “So you better figure out a way to lift the curse he put on us.” The mayor’s hand trails down his mother’s neck. “Or your mother might not last long enough to survive the illness. But if you can’t fix this mess, then don’t bother coming back at all.”

1/? edits for my favourite fanfics

3

Welcome to Ask Ecup—… Welcome to the Peru-Ecuador Binational Affairs Tumblr Project.

Here you can send all your doubts and inquiries, and our representatives will gladly answer all of them. ALL OF THEM.

English Translation: 

Per: Hey Pancho! We’ve got mail~

Ecu: ¿And what are we supposed to do about it?

Per: Emmm well, according to this thing we have to answer together and….I’ll check. Crap… I can’t read it… It is small print!

Ecu: What? Uy! Yes, there is mouseprint in this contract it reads:

Contractal clause: The signatory parties undertake to act in a socio-affective manner toward each other in order to ensure optimal bilateral relationships between said parties. In other words, aware of the “zao” nature of the relationship between the parties we expect their complete cooperation.

Per: … HEYYYY!!! I didn’t knew this was there, I swear!

Ecu: What was “zao”, again?

Per: ZAOOOOOO~* get it? (Zao is a sound, it doesn’t have a meaning but is like saying GAYYYYY~)

Ecu: …oh

Happy Ace Day! I’m asexual, but not quite sure of my romantic orientation; I suppose I fall somewhere in the aro spectrum, but I don’t know if I’m either aro, or gray/quoiromantic, or just an overthinker and afraid of commitment. To be honest, I’m very unsure about looots of things, but I’m happy to have at least figured my sexual orientation! It’s huge for me. I have all the reason to commemorate.

It’s silly and lazy-looking, but it’s transparent! So if feel like using it, you are free to do so. I’ll be also making for the others cards if anyone wants me to? 

Have fun and be proud, fellow aces!