all my grandparents

Saw that everyone was sharing their ml zine piece, so thought I’d share mine too! This was from the summer for a charity zine that sadly didn’t happen. I’m still p proud of this piece as A) I’ve never done a zine before & B) I had never made a full-blown background before ovo;; Also Happy New Year’s Eve from the US!!!


Introducing my Probably Intelligent Personal Pixel Array, otherwise known as PIPPA.

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anonymous asked:

Are you sure you're not mixed? It's not normal for African girls to have long hair.

…….I can trace my ancestry back 7 generations. My parents are from Lagos Nigeria, all of my grandparents are from Lagos Nigeria, all of my great grandparents are from Lagos Nigeria, all of my great great grandparents are from Lagos Nigeria, and after that one side is from Osun, Nigeria and the other side is from Ogun, Nigeria. And it keeps tracing back between Ogun State and Osun State, until it all ends up tracing back to Osun State Nigeria. I’m 100% Nigerian. 100% Yoruba. 100% African. 100% Black. African girls can have long hair if it is taken care of and moisturized. Our hair grows just like everyone else. All of the women in my family have long hair unless they decided to cut it. And my great grandmother had long natural hair down to her knees. 

New Beginnings Part 3 (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 5,551

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Mild Angst, Sexual Tension, Nightmares, Romantic Dorks Involved

Ratings: PG-13

Summary: After your grandparents pass away, you find out they leave everything to you, including a large sum of money.  Deciding to take the advice of your grandparents, you live your life to the fullest; which means moving to Boston and bumping into Chris Evans.

Part 2  Part 4

The windows were rolled down as you drove through the day; the brisk autumn air whipped your hair around your face as Chris’ hand splayed out on your thigh, gently rubbing.  In this moment, things seemed perfect. Naturally, you were sad to leave your home town; the house you grew up in since you were a young girl.  But times were changing, and you were ready for this new chapter, new beginning, and new adventure.  You were determined to fulfill your dreams as they arose.  

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today my proud nonbinary self went to my grandparents’ 60th anniversary pool party in trunks and a sports bra

let me tell you some things about swim trunks, friends

they are so comfy

they stay on in the water and yet come off so easily when you gotta pee

somehow it feels perfectly acceptable to have a lil gut hanging out over ur trunks

and best of all


i just rly feel like there’s too much pressure for kids to grow tf up right after or during high school like i understand if a family really has money issues and they need a child to work as soon as possible but like i’m in a unique situation rn where not just me but my two best friends are also taking a year off before college and my one friend has a job and her own car and her grandparents are already freaking out and saying she’s gonna live at home for the rest of her life and never actually go to college and ppl keep asking me when i’m moving out and when i’m getting my license and it’s like if i’m not in a rush about my own life why are you like why are you stressed out for me? it’s just silly like we have time what is so urgent that we all have to immediately move out and get to work and drive? things will work out with time

Once we were blobs in the sea, and then fishes, and then lizards and rats and then monkeys, and hundreds of things in between. This hand was once a fin, this hand once had claws! In my human mouth I have the pointy teeth of a wolf and the chisel teeth of a rabbit and the grinding teeth of a cow! Our blood is as salty as the sea we used to live in! When we’re frightened, the hair on our skin stands up, just like it did when we had fur. We are history! Everything we’ve ever been on the way to becoming us, we still are.

I’m made up of the memories of my parents and my grandparents, all my ancestors. They’re in the way I look, in the colour of my hair. And I’m made up of everyone I’ve ever met who’s changed the way I think.

—  Terry Pratchett

ooc; if anyone has any news on Puerto Rico (mostly Aguadilla, Isabella, and Quebradillas) please let me know…? Thank you.

people keep talking about how tragic the fall of neopets is but what about webkinz and the slow take over of deluxe content which is literally just old content being locked from use and the complete and utter inability to buy any clothing without using those stupid epoints instead of kinzcash 

kcg4  asked:

Hi Charity as you are an ENFP I wanted to ask you how to do you see Si and Te in you? How was it clear for you that you were Ne dom and Fi aux and not the contrary? You said in the past that you cinsidered yourself socially introvert or shy, which I think is my case and I'm not sure about INFP or ENFP for me. Thanks a lot

My main way of recognizing my status as an extrovert, beyond my need for external stimulation all the time (NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN TEN MINUTES, MY LIFE SUCKS) is that I am not a Fi-dom. So excuse me, while I once again travel into the land of indecisive Ne to illustrate my point; then I will return to your initial question.

If you compare the INFPs on this blog to the ENFPs, you will notice that the INFP’s Fi is often very prominent and “runs the show.” This is also true with real life INFPs, who as judging dominants, have and express very strong opinions. Since they are in contact with their inner self most of the time, they often know what they like and dislike, what they want to do or refuse to do, and how they FEEL about most things. There is rarely indecision on that point, especially when it comes to the strength of their inner moral focus.

While I have extremely strong opinions in a few areas, in the broader scope of reality, I am far more indecisive and disconnected from my feelings, to the point where half the time, I rationalize them out with Te, or question my “right” to feel this way at all, rather than just use them. Something I admire about INFPs is they tend to be more decisive than I am, especially in their likes and dislikes. As a Ne-dom, my likes and dislikes can change from day to day.

An INFP I know had a fight with her friends once and door-slammed all of them. She knew how she felt, that they were dissing her opinions and not respecting her true self, and after she had enough, she was done. And she did not waffle on that decision. She just quit. She made up with them much later on, but only after her temper cooled, and she had space and time to mature in her own way (and they matured also). She knew what she wanted: them gone. For now.

I complained the other day to my mother about Elizabeth of York in Philippa Gregory’s novel / miniseries, The White Princess. She is so indecisive. She changes her mind from one chapter to the next about who she is, what she wants, and answers “I don’t know” to half the questions posed to her. Some days she likes her husband, some days she doesn’t; she intends to give up on him, then turns around and falls for him again. It’s seriously annoying.

Once I got done with my rant, my mother smiled and said, “So she’s basically you, in literary form.”

Gee, thanks mom.

My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds, while my Fi had a little tantrum, and then my Te immediately snapped in and I went: “I guess. But I’d make a BAD heroine. Heroines need to be decisive! Books need plots! Heroines need to know what they want, or at least figure it out, and get there, not be lost in indecision! The plot must move forward!”

Unlike me. =P

Ne-dom makes me changeable. And it annoys me. One day, I might want this. The next day, I might not. One day, I might decide that this friend sucks. The next day, I might think I was wrong and they’re awesome. They did not change. My Ne flipped the situation around for a different perspective. It runs right over my Fi and what it wants, all the time. This means that I either do not KNOW what I want or cannot ADMIT to myself what I want, nor give myself permission to want it. It annoys me, it annoys my parents, it annoys my friends, and it annoys my cat. But that’s how it is.

I WISH I had some Fi to haul Ne’s ass into a chair and decide: NOPE. But no, instead Ne hauls me around with Fi going “Um… I don’t know how I feel yet?”

But anyway, rant aside: back to your question.

How do I see Si and Te in me?

I see Te a lot when I ‘temporarily loop’ in order to avoid dealing with my feelings. I do not LIKE my feelings. I consider them a major pain in the butt. When my grandpa died, I was a wreck before it happened. I didn’t even know him that well, but it took him a long time to die. His organs slowly shut down. I was so immersed in the pain of what was happening to my loved ones, that I cried way more than any of them. But after his death, my Te immediately kicked in. Mom wanted to clear out his house. Like, immediately. That’s how she copes.

So we did. I put aside my emotions, went into that house, and went through all my grandparents’ stuff. We filled a dumpster. I organized everything we decided to keep in piles for the family to choose from after the funeral. A lot of my decisions were people-motivated – my cousins loved playing these games with Grandma. Shall we keep them? I’ll make sure they have all the pieces and put them in nice piles. I did the funeral video. Everyone needs a Ne-dom for that. It wasn’t just about Grandpa, it was about his life. His dreams. His parents. The culture he grew up in. I managed the voice-over, without falling to pieces.

And then, I moved on.

My Si is very poor. I may be adverse to CHANGE when people announce it (and I have to deal with it a lot, my parents literally cannot live six months without changing their house around, the yard, etc) but I am not stuck in the past. Half the time it never comes to my mind. The past flows beyond me. A day can seem a week ago, and three years ago can seem like yesterday. I gaped when a friend showed me a picture recently with 2014 stamped on the bottom. That was that long ago!? My grasp on time sucks. My awareness of time sucks. My own carelessness with time… sucks. A Si-friend recently said, “You should take more pictures with your cat. You will want them when she’s eventually gone.”

I stared at her. “I will?”

See, I don’t think like that. When people, places, things, are gone, I miss them. I love them. I still think about them sometimes, but they are gone. I do not pour over pictures. I do not sit and endlessly talk about the past. I do not want to think about the past. I moved on.

Sometimes, people tell me I should slow down, or take more time with that, since they do not want me to “look back one day, and regret this moment.”

Thing is, that probably won’t happen. I rarely go back.

Unless I hurt someone badly, and never received their forgiveness, or am beating myself up about something I should have done to stop something bad from happening, I don’t look back and regret. You cannot drive a car staring into your rear view mirror. In that way, I am careless. But I don’t know how to NOT be careless. Things matter right now, and then they’re gone. I loved that show, but it’s canceled. There’s new stuff to watch. I take in so much of it (as a Ne-dom), only a few things stick longer than six months.

And sometimes, I desperately want them to stick. I sit with someone or something loving it, immersed in its beauty, and think, “How can I hold onto it? I already feel it slipping away! WHY CAN’T I APPRECIATE THIS MORE?”

Inferior Si.

This is going to sound weird, because it is weird. But, under stress… I start obsessively tinkering with sensory elements. I’ve been editing and rewriting a book for what seems like forever (forever to me is four months, but I don’t want to talk about how this is the eighth draft of the fourth version of this book in two years) which is very tedious, Si-driven work. My Te is happy to help out with deadlines, and charts, and word counts, and I have a nice little sheet of paper with things marked on it, where I enter my progress each day to keep myself motivated. But I swear on my soul, yesterday when I opened the file, my Si went nuts and said: I don’t like this font. It curls funny. Change it.

So I did.

And then I sat there for at least ten minutes, changing the font, again and again, then the sizing several times. I printed out a page to see how it will look in book form, then promptly forgot which configuration I used (poor Si!) and had to print several more sheets in different sizes. I never did figure out which was the font and what size I used for that first sheet. (Shame, I like it the best.) Then I resized the file across my screen, to try and get the font to ‘curl’ how I like it, so I could read it. I cannot read it, unless it’s the right size. And font. And I must edit so there are no paragraphs that end with one word on the next line.

(Are you laughing yet? Is that not pathetic? Welcome to my life.)

Screw inferior Si. It’s bullshit.

I never know how to say this without hurting feelings but… Fi-doms are sensitive and since INFPs have higher Si, they do not forgive you fast.

Think about two terrific insults against NFPs (from future husbands) in literature and compare them to how you process things.

Gilbert Blythe pulls Anne Shirley’s braid and calls her carrots. The little INFP smashes her slate against his head and screams at him in class. She then tells Diana “the iron has entered my soul: I shall never forgive him,” and proceeds to ignore him, compete with him, and refuse to speak to him. For years. Gibert has to grovel to get on her good side, many times. She is super sensitive and her emotions flare up immediately. “You hurt me EXCRUCIATINGLY,” she says. She means it. He DID.

Mr. Darcy insults Lizzie’s appearance (she is not handsome enough to tempt me into a dance – ie, she’s not that pretty) in Pride & Prejudice. ENFP Lizzie gapes at him, then promptly turns it into a joke. She never brings it up again. She’s mad, but more mad about what he does to Jane than his insult. She finally confronts him when he proposes, but not about that. No, it was not the insult that hit her; it was the impression she formed of his character, based on it. And when he writes her a letter that basically calls out her family for being loud, obnoxious, inappropriate trash, she is pissed but has enough high Te to realize: he has every right to feel that way about us, based on what he saw. Once she realizes WHY he thinks how he does, her anger cools. And her mind changes about him. The anger dissipates.

Did he hurt her? Sure. Deeply? Not so much.

Someone walked up to my INFP the other day and insulted her appearance. It hurt. A lot. She will probably never speak to him again.

A person insulted me to my face at dinner a few years ago. He basically implied the people I work with and the caliber of their work is poor, and I should do a better job selecting the material we work on together. (IE: Wow, you suck.) I bitch-slapped him good with a Te-snarl comeback and … promptly moved on. I was mildly annoyed by it, and it certainly colored our interactions from that point on, but I wasn’t hurt by it so much as annoyed. We stayed “friends.”

I can count the number of times people have actually hurt my feelings on one hand. My Te is strong.

How do I know this?

I’m one of the first people to come up with a rational, non-emotional “fix it” to problems. I often discount my own feelings or put them aside entirely, to get a job done. I remember one time, a friend PM’d me after I wrote a movie review and said, “But did you LIKE it?? You wrote an excellent review, but it was so non-emotional I don’t even know what YOU thought of it.” I criticized the poor elements and talked about the good ones, but there was none of “me” there.

I admit, I was a little more emotionally reactive as a child / young teeanger, but Fi still wasn’t running the show. Most Fi-dom children are very sensitive. When asked what I was like, various family members (without consulting one another) have laughed and said, “Your focus was on being a comedian. You wanted to make people laugh. But you were not especially emotional.”

I’m not. It’s true. Sometimes to my own determent.

- ENFP Mod

PS: If you get to the end of this certain you are an NFP, but you don’t know what you do in a situation in order to compare it to Lizzie or Anne’s emotional reactions, congrats: that’s shitastic inferior Si. You are an indecisive Ne-dom.

This Moment

A/N: I’m alive! Well, at least mostly. I’ve been so busy these past few weeks with family trips and work and helping my grandparents all weekend. I didn’t realize how long it had been since I last posted something. Whoops. Here’s something short, but I was really feeling it. I look forward to having this in life one day, and I hope those of you that are looking for this can find it too.

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Word count: 602

Warnings: I allude to some smut in there, if you look real hard. This is just fluff/comfort.


It was a long day of researching and interviewing, all with varying degrees of success. Dean had since left for a bar, muttering something about needing a good drink and a woman that was up for a little bit of fun.

That left yourself and Sam, who wanted nothing more than to be done with this case so he could go back home after being away for so many days.

So you’d both decided to stay back and relax, hopefully get a little bit of research done and enjoy some much needed break time without Dean to hound you about getting the bastard or making rash decisions.

Sam was currently stretched out on the motel room couch, feet hanging over the edge while crossed at the ankles. His head lays on your lap, angled slightly upwards by the curve of your thigh as he read his lore.

Your hands have found comfort in dragging through his silken strands, combing out nonexistent tangles for the past forty five minutes. You’d tried a few braids here and there just to keep occupied, so that you wouldn’t have to move away.

Your heartbeat is slow and calm, far from the usual racing that happens when you’re around him. He sighs softly every few minutes, and it just goes to soothe you even more, as though you were hearing his soft breathing beside you in a motel bed during a particularly long hunt.

Without stopping to think why, you lean your head down and press a soft kiss to the edge of his cheekbone before righting yourself, continually sliding your hands through his hair.

He glances from his book up to you for a moment, a small smile growing on his lips as his soft hazel gaze holds yours. He lifts his right hand up to your wrist, circling it gently and pulling it down to his face.

He lays a gentle kiss on your pulse, then moves your hand just beside his head before releasing it and returning his attention to his book.

You slide your hand along his collar and shoulder, closing your eyes as you leaned your head back.

You’ve never felt so content, so happy, before.

It’s always been deep relief after you both make it out of a hunt unharmed. It’s always been anxiety on the hunts that you can’t accompany him, that he goes with only his brother. It’s always been heavy passion, hearts racing with every sharp thrust of hips together and panting gasps of names. It’s always been tired stress, trying desperately to find an answer in thousands of pages of lore.

It’s never been so calm.

It’s like the world finally slowed down some, just for a little while, enough to let you feel content with what you have with Sam.

He yawns and lowers his book to his chest, and you smile as his eyes slip closed. His hand moves back to yours, his fingers lacing through gingerly, and he gives a soft squeeze.

Neither of you says a word, but you both know that there is no need to break the silence. You both know that something deeper is happening, that you’ve finally reached the stage where you can lay together in complete silence and yet speak a million words.

I love you, that’s what this feeling is.

And this is the moment where the butterflies and nervous fireworks dimmed to a crawling, slow pace, even if just for a short while.

This is when you found your home, your hero.

This is the moment, you realize, that you fell in love with Sam Winchester.



anonymous asked:

my coworker is pregnant and she smokes! She actually told me that she doesn't think it's a big deal because "I smoked during the first 7 months of my first pregnancy and my son was born fine! I think those doctors are just overly cautious. Pfft." First off just because he's physically fine you don't know he's mentally fine, secondly even if you did get lucky the first time how do you know it won't be different with this baby??? I'm so scared for her kids omg

Please don’t smoke people. I lost my mom, dad (who was up to three cartons a week), all my grandparents, and my uncle to smoking related issues. I know it’s hard to quit but it’s harder on your family that will miss you when your gone.

This is a genuine plea for all smokers to try to quit and not necessarily to this poster specifically.


I unexpectedly had my sister and dad over at my dorm and my binder was out and my rainbow lanyard was out and my calendar that’s all marked up with my queer meet ups was out and uh in short this wasn’t how I meant to come out but I’m probably out now but I’m not entirely sure because they didn’t say anything but they definitely definitely saw all that stuff and my dad was definitely staring at my calendar and goddamnit why can’t I just think about things for once before I do them

the thing that bothers me the most in this community is when people call people out for giving characters with poc faceclaims fully european names, when the faceclaim has a fully european name ( ie: vanessa anne hudgens, calum thomas hood, shannon “shay” ashley mitchell ). like, are you trying to say that these people’s parents erased their children’s ethnicities by not giving them first and middle names that matched the non-white parts of their ethnicities ?? here’s the thing now: while some mixed pocs have names that are fully reflective of the non-white heritage, not every single poc does. personally speaking, i’m ¼ west african, on top of unknown fractions of french, scottish, irish, and english, and i’m a first generation jamaican-american, but i have a russian first name, and my middle and last names are french. both my father and mother have fully european names, as do my siblings all four of my grandparents. did my parents whitewash me by not naming me something of west african or jamaican origin ?? did their parents erase their ethnicities by giving them fully european names ?? did their parents’ parents ?? nope. we all know where we come from, and we celebrate that. my last point is that a lot of people in this community start flipping out before they see what’s actually going on. suppose ( ic-wise ) a character is named after someone of a completely different ethnicity ( ie: parents’ favourite celebrity, a fictional character, a family friend, a favourite teacher, or a religious or historical entity ) who the parents wanted to honour by naming their child after them. you wouldn’t know that from just looking at a name. you might not see it in a backstory either; some rp’ers don’t write them, and others leave those details out when writing bios. there are so many situations that could justify having european first and middle names, and this community needs to start taking them into consideration. and let’s not even MENTION the fact that there are other ways to convey ethnicity other than through a name. a character could observe customs from their personal culture, or have different names for their relatives that aren’t english… bottom line, in case of pocs with both white and non-white ancestry, as long as the surname is ethnically accurate ( and i mean any part of their ethnicity — not just the poc part ) you’re golden, and you need to check yourself if you’re hating on people who are already doing so. 

Can white people stop asking 2nd-3rd generation Latinxs why we don’t speak Spanish?? Like??? Our culture was taken from us! Our parents/grandparents were forced to assimilate into white America. They lost so much of their culture and were not taught the language!!!