and it's me slapping my friend

okay not related to anything in particular, but just as general knowledge, every time I see or hear someone calling Izuocha boring it only makes me ship it harder.

Well I’m sorry if you find loving romantic relationships based on healthy and mutual friendship boring buddy, but I actually like romance where both parties actually enjoy each other’s company and don’t want to murder each other half the time. 

…have I mentioned I’m just a bit petty?

a kind, honest, and resolute soul

so i’ve been reading this wonderfully-written slow burn undertale fic by @trashcandisaster called These are our Days and was inspired to figure out what my soul would look like

so

i made this

Keep reading

Salon Etiquette

Okay so we have all had a client or experienced a client who happened to be so rude it took everything you had not to kick them out of your chair. So this is for everyone so they know WHAT NOT TO DO:

- Don’t Spin or move my chair

- Don’t tell me how to do my job

- Don’t ask to use, touch or mess with my “SHEARS“

- Don’t Ask me if I “Know what I’m doing” (I went to school passed my state boards and paid over $15,000 to know what I am doing!)

- Don’t be creepy and friend me of facebook after I cut your hair once

- Don’t tip in the form of mix tapes, old costume jewelry, ½ eaten sandwiches, or anything like that. We understand you don’t always have the money to tip, and that’s okay. But doing stuff like the above makes us feel bad as well as cheep and its like a slap in the face.

- Over all just DON’T be rude.


You have to remember we do our job because we love it, on average I see more that 5 clients a day so please don’t get upset if I ask you the same question twice or forget how you like your hair cut. My biggest goal in this industry is to be able to make you fee the best you can and its hard sometimes when clients forget that I am only human.

Such A Flirt || Neymar Jr

anonymous said: Hello beauty, can you write an imagine where Ney is a guest at your to help teach the class some soccer skills and while you are practicing he tries to flirt with you but u try to ignore him. You get annoyed by his flirting and do the same thing to him and at the end he ask you out and you say yes. Sry if its confusing because it is hard to explain but love your blog, its one of my favs

Kinda tweaked the idea, hope you like it! This took sooo long :(

“Keep your eyes on the road, Cora,” I urged my friend, playfully slapping her arm. “We can’t be late for training again, I love running but I just don’t feel like running 20 laps again.” She laughed beside me and turned into Camp Nou’s parking lot. Only some cars were here so relief washed over me, knowing that some of my team mates hadn’t arrived yet.

“Grab my bag too, will you?” I asked Cora, and she tossed me my teal and black Nike bag. I thanked her as she shut her trunk and we both made our way towards the entrance. A few of my mates were already in the dressing rooms as me and Cora entered, lacing up their boots and such.

“I got new ones just yesterday,” Juliet told us, referring to her cleats. I smiled as she stood up in a heroic pose jokingly, making us all laugh. I brought out my bright pink and black hypervenoms and slipped them on, lacing them up.

“Literally I cannot and never will be able to adjust to the beauty of your boots, y/n,” Ana told me, making everyone murmur in agreement.

“Ah, thanks girls.”

Cora and I scrolled through our phones, waiting for a few more of our teammates. I liked a few picture throughout my feed, commenting on a few then locking my phone. After almost all of our team showed up, we all headed out to the field, jogging towards the footballs that were set up, dribbling and some of us shooting. Some girls set down the water bottles on the ground and joined the rest of us.

Our Coach Xavier and our assistants and managers emerged from the entrance, strolling over to the benches and letting us warm up. We already knew the drill. Hayley and Ezmeralda set up some cones, doing lunges and stretching. After that, we all formed a circle, doing all of our stretches and then jogged around the field thrice. We all made our way towards the benches, taking a few sips of our water and then listening to our coach.

“Alright, good morning ladies. Today we’re going to do something different. I’ve been talking Lucho and we think it’s a good idea that we collaborate on some ideas and, bottom line. The men are coming to train with you ladies this morning,” Coach smiled. I groaned and a few others did the same, others were filled with excitement and some just started talking about their looks.

Right on cue, a few players came up from the entrance steps.I gasped as I recognized the faces of Luis Suarez, Lionel Messi, and Dani Alves. My mouth hung open and my eyes grew wide but I quickly suppressed my shocked emotions and kept a straight face as they jogged over to us.

“Ola Coach.” All three of them greeted, standing to the side awkwardly as us girls eyed them up and down suspiciously. My eyes traveled back to the entrance as Marc Bartra, Gerard Piqué, and Javier Mascherano came onto the training ground, followed by Iniesta and Xavi. I watched as more players passed by and the last two players came out, Neymar Junior and Rafinha Alcantara. Neymar situated himself beside me, and Cora nudged me, raising her eyebrows up and down. I rolled my eyes and waited until Coach Luis and Xavier spoke up.

“Alright, so everyone is gonna partner up. Just pass a bit and get to know each other a bit before we jump right into an exhausting training session, sound good?” Luis clapped his hands together and we all murmured in agreement. “Xavier and I have assigned partners to who we think will work good together.” 

“Bartra, you’re gonna be with…Ezmeralda.” I watched as they both walked off and started talking to each other. Coach continued, “Rafinha and Olivia, Cora and Dani, Juliet and Iniesta, Xavi and Willow.” I zoned out for a few minutes as our coaches continued blabbering until I heard my name.

“Y/n and…Neymar.” I mentally punched myself in the face and glanced at Neymar who winked at me. “Hey Neymar, don’t distract y/n with your charm, she’s one of my most focused and dedicated players who can’t afford to be distracted.” Coach Xavier teased. I heard some players laughing and blushed feverishly.

“Don’t worry, she’s in good hands, coach.” Neymar grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. I brushed the idea off of his attractiveness and strode over to the bag of footballs and picked one out. I squeezed the ball, checking if it was flat or not and it was rock solid. I dropped it to the ground and started to juggle, doing my tricks with the ball until Neymar came up.

“Y’know we’re supposed to be working together.” He reminded me and I nodded nervously. Neymar gave me his infamous wink and smirk as we started passing around and occasionally juggling. 

“You’re pretty hot, and good at football,” Neymar spoke up after awhile. “And that’s the perfect combination in a girl.” I shrugged nonchalantly and passed him the ball back, jogging on the spot.

“Um, thanks.”

He kicked the ball back in the air so I controlled it, “No problem.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” I asked, blindly. He just shrugged and aggressively kicked the ball, I turned around a bit, thinking the ball would just softly bounce on the turf but the second I turned back, the ball hit me right in the stomach. Knocking the wind out of me. I moaned in pain as Neymar came rushing to my side.

“Safe the moans for my bed, querida.” I rolled my eyes in response and pushed him away, getting annoyed at his cockiness. I hoisted myself up, clutching my stomach lightly until the pain faded and I continued passing with the devil himself.

I stayed quiet the rest of the practice well until we stopped working together and our coaches called us in for a water break, “Are you okay, y/n?” Cora asked and I nodded in response, grabbing my Gatorade and twisting the cap off with ease and taking a big gulp. We started doing multiple drills, making me sweat now as I wore a bright yellow pin-nee. I rubbed the back of my hand across my forehead in exhaustion as I shot my ball into the net, finishing off the drill. 

“Nice work, y/n.” Coach Luis called out making me smile as I jogged back to the start of the drill, awaiting my turn. And just my luck, Neymar jogged behind me finishing his turn. I pretended not to see him, jogging in spot. He grabbed my hand, whirling me around in surprise. I gasped at the sudden contact and the close proximity between us. He started making circles with his thumb on the back of my hand.

“Neymar, y/n! Stop flirting, let’s go!” Coach Xavier yelled aloud, causing my team mates to snicker around me. I rolled my eyes, proceeding to the drill.

After taking my shot, the coaches called out for everyone to form some teams for a scrimmage. Xavi and Penelope were team captains. After everyone was chosen, some walked towards the bench and nine players from each team would play.

Claudio played goalkeeper for us, clapping his gloves together, signalling he was ready. Everyone got into their positions, including me. I was left wing and Neymar was on the right, but on the opposing team. He was directly in front of me when kick off happened. I positioned myself in front of Neymar (if he was going to flirt with me the whole practice, he’s going to have something else coming.) I grabbed his hand casually and he looked up, smirking. Task 1: distraction, complete. “You know, you’re pretty hot too.” I murmured, grabbing his attention immediately. One of my team mates weren’t looking and blindly passed it towards Neymar, and while he was distracted I touched the ball lightly in front of me.

Before Neymar processed what was happening, I ran forward towards the ball, leaving Neymar behind me. I ran past Rakitic quickly and Marc was the defender on my side. Somehow, I cut back successfully and crossed it into the box. Lana jumped up just at the right time, heading the ball into the net which barely got past their goalie, which was Hayley.

“You’re extremely sneaky,” Neymar narrowed his eyes at me, then laughed lightly. “But yeah, I am pretty hot, if I do say so myself.” 

“If you say so.”

Neymar and I continued teasing each other during the scrimmage and even on the benches, squirting water every now and then. Occasionally, we squirted my team mates and his’. All around, it was a good practice and I didn’t feel as grumpy as before. 

The coaches whistled us in for a little discussion before we left. I sat next to Neymar and Taylor was on my other side. Neymar wrapped his arm around me, and to be completely honest, I didn’t even mind. I actually enjoyed his company throughout the practice, even when we’ve actually teased each other during the whole training session.

“Hey, wait up!” Neymar called after me. I stuffed my kit into my bag and adjusted my white knit cardigan onto my shoulders. “Y/n, I said wait.” 

“I heard you, I just didn’t want to listen.” I admitted, looking at him up and down. He wore a black Nike shirt with blue jeans. I had to confess that he looked amazing, even after we exercised for a good four hours.

“You’re pretty hard to handle.”

I shrugged and walked with him to the cars, “So I’ve been told.”

“Wait stop,” Neymar told me and suddenly he looked extremely nervous, raking his hand through his perfectly styled hair. I gave him a confused look and he finally looked up at me with his mesmerizing eyes. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, all practice. I just never had the guts until we were alone.” I froze at the sound of the word ‘alone.’

“I like you, and I’d like to see more of you.” Neymar chuckled deeply. I blushed slightly and smiled. Seeing him as a nervous wreck instead of some cocky ass footballer made me like him more. He wasn’t a jerk, he was a really sweet guy.

“Are you trying to ask me out?” I finally put the pieces together. “I’d like to get to know you more as well.” He smiled, relieved that he hadn’t gotten rejected.

“Of course, who could turn down all of this,” He gestured at himself and I burst out laughing causing Neymar face palm because I found this hilarious. “Stop laughing, you said it yourself. I’m pretty damn hot.” I rolled my eyes in response.

Crossing my arms in disgust since his cockiness was back I spoke up, “Is it too late to back out?” His eyes widened at my question.

“Of course it’s too late.”

“Damn,” I cursed under my breath and Neymar and I stood there laughing until our stomachs hurt. After he left, bestowing a quick kiss upon my lips and a hug, I was left in the parking lot alone, waiting for Cora.

She finally emerged from the entrance and we made our way to her car. As I slipped in, I barely even processed that he asked me out. To say the least, I was completely and utterly starstruck.

Tumblr friends

I need your help.

I have zero motivation so I’m going to post the first five parts to my newest comic which will have Amy Rose, Shadow the Hedgehog and Sonic the Hedgehog.

I have been trying to get back to work on it for the past two days and I know this is silly but I need to know if anyone will even want this. And it shouldn’t matter because I want it. I dont know what my problem is because I have written it all down. I have all the reference’s I need and the ending is finalized. The only thing I am missing is the will to draw and I dont know why. Every time I open up the SAI file I lose the motivation. Maybe it’s because I have to draw at least 50 more pictures I dont know. I want to do it I do because even yesterday I was writing down the script but words are easy. Maybe it’s because I dont think I can draw it I really dont know. 

celepom I know you really want to see it done and that SHOULD be enough for me to get over my insecurities but ugh. 

Anyways here it is. Its cliche and souly made just so I can have the feels. dont even look at the shadow in the second picture i hate it i fucking hate myself right now. enjoy the first five pages of fifty if i find the will. im so embarrassed and feel like a child right now.

Calefaction Part 1

anonymous asked:

Currently playing through Trespasser again and just got to the "ruffled feathers" comment. If that wasn't enough of a reason for me to want to slap Cullen, what he does before that makes it worse. When Josie is talking, he is literally shaking his head like "ugh, here's she goes again"....Which is condescending on its own, but since my Inquisitor is romancing Josie, you'd think Noodlehead would reign in his shitty attitude towards her.

I know what you mean, anon, and I feel your pain.

I shit you not, the first time I saw that line, which was when my friend was playing the DLC for the first time and I was sitting nearby, I literally threw my hands in the air and yelled “oh my god who asked you? who told you that your opinion on this matters, who lied to you like this”.

Which, really, makes you sad once again, that there’s no real option to talk back to him not at this point, not at any other instance, he stands there in his pretty armour, taking a place where he was promoted without actually doing anything useful and helpful in his life, and talks shit about a person at the War Table who works so hard she couldn’t take a single day off to go see a play at the theatre with her friend or her romantic partner. She really got the short end of the stick when it came to the amount of content she gets. 

I mean, she’s supposed to be an LI from the earliest stages of development, but she barely has any cutscenes, she doesn’t get a wedding, and yes, sadly, you can’t even speak up and try to defend her in some way. I know she doesn’t need it, but. Having an option would be nice. 

And it’s always this way. I love Josie a lot, but I hate how this hardworking, incredibly dedicated woman barely gets any sleep and rest and literally puts her entire life into this job, but she’s always shown as smiling and patient, always nice and looking good, because this is what is expected from women. In media and in real life. You need to bust your ass and put all your free time in whatever you’re doing, but you’re expected to put a smile on your face all the time and look 10/10. Always. Which is why, I guess, a lot of people don’t see her dedication as something extraordinary, or don’t see her job as difficult, as opposed to poor baby Cullen who’s so, so tired all the time, because he works so, so hard.

And then this dickwaffle plays into this bullshit treatment himself, pretty much saying that Josie gets the easiest job, a job that is pretty much just an accessory to his, while he does the real work with his cool-ass armed recruits? I have no patience for that. I don’ve have much patience for him in general, but Josie doing her job and doing it good is one of the main reasons the Inqusition even managed to exist this long and maintain good relationship with several fractions, allowing Cullen to play with his armies and swing his big sword around. Because one wrong word to these nobles with their ruffles feathers, and it will all fall apart.

He should fucking respect that and allow her to work, instead of trying to play the Man in the house and giving everyone the “ugh I hate politics, art and tea parties, ALL THAT MATTERS IS WAR!!! I bust walls down with my fists and drink my own sweat for breakfast” speech. Boy, you’re way too young and way too useless to even try to use that one on me, go play with your toy horses and let the adults handle this.

The calm before the storm

I have actually more (but this one is a little longer, it’s a oneshot to your fantasyAU, because ANGEL JIMIN!!!!) I’m new to this, so if this goes horribly wrong, if I’m sending this to the wrong place or if I clicked the wrong things - don’t kill me, please! ;D

___________

 

“Your hair looks weird. It’s so white!” Yoongi sits down besides Jimin in the grass, picking one of the bleach strands up to investigate it closer.

Jimin huffs, his beautiful wings rustling in annoyance as he slaps the other’s hand away.

“We already talked about that! I’m an angel, of course my hair is white. It resembles my purity.”

He nods fervently, proud of what he is.

“Aside from that, your hair is strange too, my friend. It’s so pitch black, it lacks even its natural glimmer.”

They look at each other challengingly, until Yoongi gives him the eyebrow and Jimin sighs in defeat.

“Okay, okay, having black hair is not that uncommon, but you can say the same thing about white hair, as well! Other people have white hair, too!”

He knows he is childishly sulking by now, it’s only hair and Yoongi is just joking, but he wants to be as pretty as possible for the other.

His wings vibrate nervously and give his restlessness away.

Yoongi just laughs, laying back in the grass and looking up at the other, squinting against the sun and maybe also against the warm glow of light that seems to surround Jimin like a never slipping halo.

“Only old people and the ones that have seen way too much get white hair. It’s not common for a little boy your age, who barely knows how to wipe his own nose.” He gives his words of wisdom, closing his eyes and sighing contently, entirely pleased with his answer.

Jimin is only a few centimetres smaller than him, but he still likes to tease him about that and his delicate features, calling him a kid and laughing over how cute the other is when he gets offended.

It’s only when Jimin stays quiet that he realizes he may have crossed a line.

He opens his eyes again and Jimin refuses to look at him, staring off into the distance, wings wrapped around his figure, his eyes cold and hard all of a sudden and mouth set in a firm line.

“Are you really that close-minded, Yoongi? You, of all people? We know each other for quite some time now and I love you, but you still think I know nothing about the world? I’m not a boy and I definitely did see too much in all these centuries I roamed this realm.”

His wings are spreading with his temper, unwrapping themselves, bristling like the fur of an angry cat, until they frame Jimin in their full height, intriguing but breathtakingly beautiful at the same time.

Yoongi sits up quickly when Jimin looks at him, because there is a strange glint in his eyes, something old and ancient and oddly nonhuman that makes the necromancer’s skin crawl.

He gets suddenly aware of the fact that Jimin is not human – never was, to begin with – but a mighty celestial being and he is actually a little frightened, because he barely gets to see Jimin like this and he seems to be so powerful at that moment.

“I was there when they built the world. I have seen the rise and fall of kingdoms, watched wars unfold and peace come and go. I experienced the birth of mankind and was witness to its growth. I may look like a boy but I’m way older than you, Yoongi. And I’ve seen too much things… the cruelty of humans, their sins, their death and even beyond. I’ve seen what awaits them in hell. I’ve seen so many sunrises, they can’t touch me anymore.”

His fury turns to sadness all of a sudden and he seems to noticeably shrink, shoulders falling, spread wings folding themselves in. He looks exhausted and tired all of a sudden and Yoongi drags him into his arms, his heart throbbing because he loves him and he can’t stand to see Jimin like this, so defeated and hopeless and… done.

“Maybe you’re right, you know? Maybe my hair is not white because I’m so pure, but rather because the terror I’ve seen scared the colour away…”

Jimin snuggles into Yoongi, folding his wings protectively around them and rests his head on the other’s broad shoulder.

Yoongi lifts one hand to explore Jimin’s angelic face, tracing his jawline, his closed eyelids with the long lashes fanning over high cheekbones, the curve of his nose and the outline of his slightly parted lips, so much wonder and awe in his eyes, because Jimin is gorgeous and perfect and his and he is tainted, a sinner who plays with death who certainly doesn’t deserve an angel like him.

“At least the terror only grazed you, took the colour away and left again. My hair is black because the dread is sticking like glue to my form, tinting my locks and itching under my skin. You saw horror, but I inflicted it. I still don’t get why you keep me around.”

“Because you saved me.” Jimin whispers softly and both of them are overwhelmed by the truth in their words, having never talked about their feelings so openly like this before.

“I breathed and I lived and I continued on with the other angels, yes, but I… I was not alive. Not really. I felt cold inside. Like stone. I had seen everything and felt everything and I had gotten used to it. I felt so numb, like I was incapable of feeling emotions. I was bored out of my mind. And then I met you and you were different, you brought colour and sound back into my world and it felt like I woke up from a yearlong sleep. You saved me, and I love you and I’m thankful… so thankful…”

Jimin trails off, his wings tightening around them. Yoongi smiles down on him, feeling his heart swell with love as Jimin returns it, bright and carefree, taking Yoongi’s hand in his slightly smaller one, linking their fingers together.

“But I’m a sinner. I play around with dark magic and death, you can’t deny that.” Yoongi states but gives Jimin a peck on the nose nevertheless, watching in amusement as the other’s cheeks flush a rosy pink. 

“It’s not as easy as that and you know that better than everyone else. You didn’t get into dark magic because you thought it would be fun, but rather because you tried to save a loved one. You knew about the consequences and you still went through with it. I actually admire your braveness.”

Jimin defends him and his wings rustle around them in slight indignation.

“Still, they don’t approve of us.” Yoongi mentions, pressing his forehead to Jimin’s.

Angels usually don’t fall in love, it’s considered a sin and one of the greatest betrayals of heaven. If the others got a say in it, Yoongi would be dead a long time ago and Jimin would be carefully deprived of every emotion.

“They want to talk to me, actually. I’m leaving in a few hours.” Jimin confesses and he is quick to take Yoongi’s face in both hands to calm him down, as the other jerks up with a hiss of sudden anger.

“I’m sure it’ll be alright. I’ll explain everything to them and I’ll return to you, unharmed. Don’t worry. They can’t possibly disapprove of something as beautiful as true love.”

Yoongi is not convinced, but he also knows that Jimin will go, no matter what he says, so instead of mouthing his worries, he lays – once again – back in the grass, this time dragging Jimin with him.

The angel giggles, careful to fold his wings in so they won’t get crushed under their weight and places his head on the other’s chest. He hums happily as Yoongi starts to stroke his pale hair absentmindedly with one hand, hugging the smaller body close with the other arm.

“You know that I love you, right? I need you to be fluffy and happy and my fucking ray of sunshine, so please come back to me safely, in one piece.” Yoongi starts to place butterfly kisses everywhere he can reach, in the other’s hair, on his forehead, behind his ears and Jimin yelps as he reaches a spot where he is ticklish.

“Language!” He reminds Yoongi, but the next moment he lifts his head to catch the other’s lips with his. It’s brief and chaste and Yoongi is a little overwhelmed at first, but it’s nonetheless such a tender kiss, mingled with so many feelings, Yoongi’s head starts to spin.

“I love you, too.” Jimin says and with that they settle back, enjoying the comfortable silence and each other’s presence.

Yoongi feels himself getting tired and he is dozing off already, when Jimin speaks up again, voice unusually serious and thoughtful:

“You know what I found out about mankind all these years I got to watch them?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, maybe he thinks Yoongi is asleep already.

“The innocent are the ones that have to suffer the most.”

He states it firmly, confidently, with a finality that makes Yoongi cringe.

The worst part is that he is right.

He hums in agreement, his arms unconsciously tightening around Jimin, caressing his beautiful, smooth wings, before falling asleep completely.

When he wakes up again, the other is already gone and Yoongi can’t help but feel frightened all of a sudden, because “the innocent are the ones that have to suffer the most” and Jimin is so pure and precious and the most innocent person he has ever met.

He tries to tell himself that he is exaggerating, that Jimin is going to be back in no time and he’ll just never let him go again from then on, but uneasiness settles in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone and he can’t help but think that,

Yes,

Something is going to go horribly wrong.

The innocent are the ones that have to suffer the most.

He will never stroke that beautiful, smooth wings again.

 

(FantasyAU is probably not really relevant at the moment, but I wrote this a while ago and I really wanted to show it to you :3)

I hope I didn’t fuck up and it’s okay when I send it to you like this.

Me: [minding my own fucking business]

My heart: [whispering in a soft, giggling, gentle voice] Yin-yang

Me: please don-

My brain: [after a giggly pause, gently slapping its knee] it just hit me

My heart: [softly giggling and pointing]

Me: [sobbing in the corner] THEYRE BEST FRIENDS FIRST!!!!!!!

I do. I do get riled up over the glamorization of mafia. And you know why I do? You know why I hate all these people, quoting The Sopranos, The Godfather and Scarface, that don’t know anything about mafia? Because I haven’t lived its worse days - because I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a decade relatively much calmer than the 70s and the 80s. I’m 20, and none of my friends or relatives have been shot dead because they said something inappropriate. But my dad once told me that half of the people he knew are either dead or in jail because they had the wrong friends. He was still engaged to my mum he was verbally abused (and slapped? I don’t remember) by a police officer who was looking for witnesses and proofs during a huge investigation on local mafia. And it didn’t matter whether you knew or now, whether you had names on the tip of your tongue—you stayed silent because you didn’t want to be killed by the mafia for speaking up. Did my dad know? i don’t know.

You know how many people were shot dead? How many judges and magistrates were killed in bomb attacks along with their police officers and wives? You know what do mobsters do? They ask for money to local shops so they can keep doing their jobs in peace. They literally asks people money so that those people can keep ruling their little, private business in peace. Do you know what they do if you don’t pay? If you report to the police?

You are a walking dead.

A neighbor of mine was in the mafia and then he reported what he knew to the police. He ran off to Germany. He came back after 34 years. he was shot as soon as he came back.

Giuseppe D.M. was 13 when he was kidnapped, going missing for 779 days until he was killed. His body was never found because his kidnappers melt his body in acid. His dad was a former mafioso who had gone to the police.

Just two examples.

Men of honour? Where is the honour? How can you romanticize mafia, Al Capone, how disrespectful is to do mafia AUs because ~it’s cool~ when people, real people, died every day, still die, and I can see mafia, today, ruining our buildings, our spaces, our country? When Italians know that mafia is rooted so deep in politics that you can’t distinguish one from the other?

I was lucky enough to be born is a calm environment, in a good family. Many others weren’t. And yet one of the first things I was taught when I was little was to stay silent.

Once, in middle school, a fight happened during the break. I knew what had happened - who had started it. But when I tried to call the teachers, bringing my best friend with me, she cut me off. She told me to shut up. Because no one likes the rats.

When I told my parents later that day, my dad replied, “When something happens, you stay quiet. You say you don’t know a thing.”

I was born in a good decade and yet I was taught not to speak up. 

There is no honour in this. And there is no glamour.