know what’s wild? that the trope of like “my father always wanted a son so he treated me, his daughter, like a boy” is so popular and like lowkey loved, but if you ever saw a mother who talked about how much she wanted a daughter instead of a son, or if she treated her son like a girl, like??? people would think she’s awful and that poor boy??

damn wonder why that is 😒

Shipping BakuDeku

What people think: “Is an abusive relation ship! So gross! if you ship this you are trash and romanticise abuse!!" 

What I really ship: Bakugou realising that he did wrong, starting to be a better, nice version of himself who can have a nice and healthy relationship, redeeming himself as a human and with deku, the person he hurt the most, showing that even the worst person can change and be good. 

Questionable Advice I Use

Pretend your self doubt is coming from Thomas Jefferson’s mouth

If Lin Manuel Miranda wouldn’t say it to you don’t say it to yourself

Find some MomFriends™ to help you

If you have a friend (one like I did) that insults you but is also nice to you get them out of your life right now. No texting or talking

Write down a (insulting) name someone has called you as well as a (insulting) name you have called yourself. Every. Signal. One. You have been called write it down. Then tear up the list into the smallest pieces you can and throw them up in the air

Look up funny stories on tumblr or pintrest or anywhere else.


Write something angsty of fluffy

When in doubt Spearmint gum or any other kind of gum

When sad/lonely/depressed chocolate

Take a hot shower. No washing hair or anything just let the warmth come down on you. Put on comfy clothes and Netflix and just exist for a moment. Not live exist

Put on your favorite song that always pumps you up

Cry. Hard. And long. Just. Cry

Eat and Drink something. Bathing do it. Sleep. Get off YouTube.

Stop smiling just stop. You don’t need to if you can’t


@queen-bitch-16 feysand making breakfast and then getting a little distracted

Feyre woke up that morning to an empty bed. She yawned and stretched, feeling the relief from her fingertips to her toes. Her head fell back to the pillow and she relished the thought of a warm bed for a few more minutes, but then she smelled something. Eggs.

The scent of breakfast lured her out to the kitchen, where she found a shirtless Rhys cooking at the stove. He turned towards the fridge and caught sight of Feyre, and she was suddenly very aware that she was solely in one of his tunics. And he was solely in his boxers. A lazy smile spread across his face.

“Good morning, darling,” he greeted her. She walked towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek in response.

She whispered “Morning” in his ear, feeling a small shudder run through his body. She smiled as she pulled back, anxious to see what Rhys’s next move would be. He simply turned back to the stove.

“I can’t leave the eggs on too long. We don’t want the place to burn down.”

Feyre shot a burst of ice at Rhys’s neck. He yelped and whirled around.

“I think I can take care of that if it happens.” She smirked.

“I need to eat, Feyre. You know, build up stamina and refuel.” His eyes flicked up and down her body and she flushed. “Especially after last night.”

Feyre sauntered over to the bread and began slicing up pieces. She looked to him. “Well, who am I to deny my poor mate a healthy and nutritious breakfast?” He smiled and she grinned back, cheekily.

For the next few minutes as they both worked to prepare the meal, she made sure to bump into him, giving him little touches, her fingers somehow finding their way trailing up his back and over his shoulders. Finally, when the stroked a bold finger over the edge of one of his wings, he turned off the stove and confronted her.

“I know what you’re doing, wife.” She smiled and bit her lip.

“And what is that?” She lowered her voice even though they were alone, no one would barge in on them.

“You’re trying to distract me from this delicious breakfast we’re preparing.” He stalked over to her, looming over her and eyeing her like prey. A shiver ran up Feyre’s spine. “My mate is trying to keep me from the most important meal of the day.”

“I know of an even better meal,” she responded, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you?” His lips brushed hers and she leaned up, forcing more passion into their kiss. He ran his hands through her hair and she ran hers down his back, digging in with her nails. His hands slid from her hair, down her back to her ass, slipping under and lifting her to the counter. She hooked her ankles around his waist and pulled him closer, moaning slightly at the friction.

“Should I indulge myself on the delicacy?” he asked her between kisses.

She pulled back and looked at him. “Who am I to deny my mate?”