and that makes me feel less alone

when we first got married i had to psych myself up every time to say “my wife” to a new person. it was awkward because with “girlfriend” a lot of people would just assume i meant “friend,” and of course “fiancée” is gender-neutral when spoken, so we’d always had plausible deniability. but the meaning of “wife” is pretty unavoidable. still, i made myself do it on principle, and slowly but surely it became natural.

now i love saying “my wife,” to everyone all the time. i love saying it to the old woman distributing the strawberries at the farm share, asking if she knows where i can still get rhubarb because every summer i make my wife a pie. i love saying it to the gay employee helping me at crate and barrel, telling him i’m buying these glasses because my wife and i both had them growing up, and seeing his eyes light up. i love saying it to friends of friends and to new acquaintances and to potential coworkers and to the women at the laundromat. i love being aggressively out, and i love having such an easy way to be aggressively out. i love being the first woman with a wife someone has ever met, making our existence part of their reality. i love being visible for other lgbt people who might feel a little less alone knowing i’m there, which helps me push past the fear when it comes. most of all, i love not hiding. i love saying “my wife” and i love my wife.

You’re going to need a person in your life who makes you smile even when you’re mad. Who knows your heart like the back of her hand and calls you out on your bullshit. Who says, “screw him,” and “I love you,” and, “you got this,” and really means it. Late nights of long phone calls and laughing until your ribs hurt. You need a person who sees you for what you can be, what you will be, and never lets you be any less. A weirdo, preferably. Who yells your name across street just to embarrass you. Who holds you when he breaks your heart and keeps you strong when he comes crawling back. Who tells the truth when she talks about life and makes you feel a little less alone. A person who is beyond words, beyond thanks, beyond what you could have asked for. Find this person. Trust me. You’re going to need her.
—  a thank you to my best friend, who is all of this and more
8

Kindness is often mistaken for softness and let me tell you, friends….that is a mistake you don’t want to make. (x)

Another meme I won’t finish: [3/?] favorite characters: 
➥ M’gann M’orzz

- I wanted… 
- Tell me.
- To be your friend. I couldn’t bring your people back to life, but I could make you feel less alone. I’m so sorry.

A light bulb went off. The word didn’t make me feel marginalized. It made me feel less crazy. It made me feel less alone. It gave me hope. An actress just said a word, but it made a world of difference in my life and in my identity.
— 

Evan Rachel Wood on hearing the word “bisexual” for the first time

I deserve someone who cares.
I deserve someone who would go out of their way to show me that they want me in their life.
I deserve someone who appreciates what I do for them.
I deserve someone who won’t treat me as an option, but as an only choice.
I deserve someone who is careful with my heart because they know it’s been through a lot.
I deserve someone who doesn’t play games and is sure that they want me.
I deserve someone who will help me love myself, not make me hate myself more.
I deserve someone who won’t ever make me feel like I’m not good enough or that I need to compete with other people to get their attention.
I deserve someone who asks about my well being.
I deserve someone who is there for me whenever they know something’s wrong.
I deserve someone who wants to spend time with me, and won’t make me feel guilty for wanting to talk to them.
I deserve someone who will treat me the same when they’re with their friends as they would treat me when we’re alone.
I deserve someone who won’t push me away but will let me in, as I’d do to them.
I deserve better, and I’m not going to settle for anything less anymore.
—  I’m done feeling like this.
Okay, march 22

The day of infamy. There are going to be hundreds, if not thousands, of posts saying how much they miss MCR and how much they want them to get back together, and I get it. This band saved my life. (Well the people in the band but…) They made me feel less alone in my feelings and outlooks. I would cry if they got back together, but I’m not going to write about that. They broke up because they needed to. Gerard was at the end of his rope and couldn’t take it any longer. He was starving himself, and resorting to booze and drugs to get through shows. Now look at him. Happy, healthy, and writing comics. He would never be like that if the band didn’t break. Also Frank. He is happy, healthy, and still making music. Touring the world with his band. His music helps many people, including me. Ray and Mikey are happy and healthy. Mikey even has a baby on the way! (Give it up for him. Signing up for a child, that takes courage) So guys, this post was just saying, as Gerard put it-
“My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band – it is an idea.”
The guys are doing what makes them happy and carrying MCR with them as they do so. This day will be sad, most of us will probably cry, but remember, the guys are happy. And that’s what really matters.
-Charlie March 22, 2017

me: i really need to sleep

my brain: there’s a place where we don’t have to feel unknown oh my god everybody needs to see this and every time that you call out you’re a little less alone i can’t stop watching this video seventeen years old if you only say the woooooord take five minutes this will make your day FROM ACROSS THE SILENCE YOUR VOICE IS HEEAARD OOOOOOOH share it with the people you love, repost the world needs to hear this a beautiful tribute OOOOOOOOH i know someone who really needed to hear this today so thank you evan hansen for doing what you’re doing OOOOOOOH i never met connor but coming up here reading everyone’s post someone will come runnning it’s so easy to feel alone that ooooooohhh evan is exactly right ohhhhhhh we’re not alone oooooooh none of us none of us none of us are alone like especially now oooooh with everything you hear in the news someone will come running like share repost thank you evan hansen for giving us a space to remember connor oooohhh someone will come running to find each other thank you evan hansen OOOOOHHH thank you evan hansen take you hoooooome OHHHHH OOOOOOH thank you evan hansen OOOOOOOOOH EVEN WHEN THE DARK COMES CRASHING THROUGH WHEN YOU NEED A FRIEND TO CARRY YOU WHEN YOU’RE BROKEN ON THE GROUND YOU WILL BE FOUND

He was great. We shared many great moments. Our physical connection was never in question. He kissed me within an hour of meeting me and I let him. I thought that it could be a great story that we tell other people one day, not knowing that maybe moving too fast doomed us from the start. Our emotional connection, on the other hand, is something that I always questioned. The only time he allowed me a glimpse into his heart is at three in the morning, when we would talk all night, not needing sleep, only each other, even though he has to be up at eight for work. I feel him smiling against my face. His heart beating against my chest. His thumbs caressing my fingers. His hand rubbing my bare back. These are the little moments that I will keep close to me. These are the moments before everything good about us slipped away.


He was charming and confident and he created an environment where I felt safe to grow. He taught me many things about life and I will always care for him in that sense. And although my relationship with him was exhilarating, there was a dark and twisted side that was always lurking.He was able to flash a smile at me and charmed me into changing my morals for him. To the point where I slid down the door, holding onto my chest, the part where the heart is, and questioned if I am still me. He was able to use his confidence to make me feel small and less than him, to the point where I made excuses to my friends for the ways he treated me. He used my need to feel alive to suck the innocence and what little naivety I had left.


And the more nights we spent together, the colder I felt. The more he withdraw, the more I needed his warmth. It was a sick relationship based on my fear of spending my nights alone and his fear of commitment and missing out on everything life has to offer did not make things easier. 


Of course it hurts to see things changed. Of course it hurts to remember all of the tender moments we had. And of course, my heart breaks every time I compare the beginning to now. I will never understand how someone wakes up one day and decides that they don’t care anymore. He used to pull me closer to him during the middle of the night to kiss my forehead. Now all he does is cowered me into the corner and throw words at me, that he claims he does not mean the next day. And I hate myself for never having the strength to leave him in that moment. So I lay down in the same bed next to him, facing the opposite direction, leaving inches between us. And I hate myself for still wanting his arms around me.

—  He trapped me in the environment he created and it took me a while to find my way out of the maze. And sometimes, I wonder if I am really out.
Beauty And The Buck

Requested by: Anonymous
(Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 1.7K
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write and post!

“What’re you watching?” you jump as the gruff voice sounds through the dark living room. Your heart begins to race before you even turn around to confirm who was standing behind the couch. It was Bucky, you would know that voice anywhere.

Glancing over your shoulder, you give the super soldier a small smile, “Tangled,” you inform him, “I’d ask you to join but it’s almost done,” you curse yourself, watching a movie with Bucky would be a perfect way to get to know your crush better,

“It’s really good quality,” Bucky keeps his eyes locked on the huge tv, while you keep your eyes locked on him. It was dark in the lounge room, the only source of light coming from the tv, but you can see that he’s tired; bloodshot eyes and dark circles giving it away.

Keep reading

tbh before I saw the movie Split, I was thinking it was going to be as problematic as a lot of people are making it out to be.

But,honestly, after seeing it,as a victim of trauma, I really liked it. The main character wasn’t evil. No. It is shown that there are evil parts to him,but he is a man being overtaken by a very,very severe case of Multiple Personality disorder.  Just my two cents. It didn’t strike me as outright being offensive unless you’ve literally never met someone with a mental disorder.

And I could tell you that lately my skin has been the loneliest place on earth, that even though I can still play the chord of us perfectly, every word is still a shell of the laughter we lost. every smile is an outline of colors our hands could never reach, a subtle heading that caution can hold stares as hardened as these windows we could never keep clean. You never promised to make me feel better, but you always made me feel. Truth is, I was a little less lost every time you held my hand. I was a little less lost every time my ear found your voice. I was a little less lost when the tears in your eyes matched the holes we smoked through summers. I was a little less lost knowing the only darkness I could never escape were the I love you’s we said with our eyes closed. And now I’m writing your name on napkins, just so I’m not eating alone. And I could tell you that winter isn’t the coldest season if only you would listen, I apologize an extra time for the moments when you cried and I told you to stop, I should have held you more, I should have held you in my arms just for a little longer if I knew that that would be the last time we would ever be, life comes at you hard, so it gave birth to love and the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, it broke every branch that looked like a vein and injected enough morphine to silence a whole city filled with poets and romantics, we live in a technology infested world, when the robots come they’ll get rid of love and we’ll wonder why, love stems from something as old as finding a mate, we just gave something primitive a few poems and a spine, we gave it a new name just to call it ours, you are mine and I am yours, but only if always and forever could last, maybe the world wouldn’t be in so much debt with Cupid, breathing means that I’m trying and it’s not always about love, but if it’s not about love, then is it really about anything? Anything of importance, baby, we love it. Anything of value, baby, we love it. Anything of anything, baby, we love it. So when I miss you while I’m driving around and the city is quiet enough for my memories to come back to life– love doesn’t really die, it’s just a sleeper cell waiting for the call, and our brains likes to fuck us up when we least expect it. i can count on all ten of my fingers about when you took my breath away. 1: your smile. that statement alone requires no introduction. divine falls short when it comes to you. 2: your words. you made my left brain understand poetry, you spoon-fed my right brain the logical means to end irrationality even if it meant that we had to split in order for me to grow into a person capable of loving myself. loving you was the best possible way I could’ve ended things between us, hating myself was the worst possible way I could’ve seen us together, so of course it still hurts when I think about 3: your body. they say sexual exploration is important, I learned how to kiss where it counts, I learned how to feel skin as if I was pen writing the same word for spelling homework over and over again, I learned how to write your name backwards on your back with my fingers, and I’m still learning how to forget that my skin is important too, when I dropped those razors and asked if 4 could forgive me. 4: your younger self. I realized a few things about us, when you’re this young, you’re going to hurt someone and then you’re going to feel the pain. you’re going to be alone and numb, but that’s the thing about being young, I get to be dumb once, the rest of the time I need to step up and love somebody right. 5: your lies. I learned that just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean that they’ll always be honest with you. you can’t expect everyone to be like you. you can’t expect that person to love you back in the same force that pulls the moon closer to earth just to feel less dead. 6: your eyes. they always gave you away. 7: your mouth. they were next to do the same. 8: your heart. it’s still as pale as mine. 9: your soul. meant to touch, but not to stay. 10: your version of loving someone. it means distance. and when I think about the number one reason as to why I finally let go of all the things that I’ve got left of you, I always come up with one. me. I’m doing this for me. when you left, you said that I’ll go on many adventures without you. it’s a good way to start things over with myself for myself.
—  The Ate & The Bunso
When I Look At You

Word Count: 2024

A/N: This is a song lyric inspired fiction… type thing?? I’m not good with fiction terminology, if that’s even a thing haha oops. It’s based off ‘When I Look At You.’ By Miley Cyrus. Anyways I love this so much actually :D If any of you want to send me requests I would love to take them, and I’d love to know what you think of my writing! Part 4 of Jealousy will be out soon btw! Much love <3

Everybody needs inspiration

Everybody needs a song

A beautiful melody,

For when the nights are long.

'Cause there’s no guarantee

That this life is easy.

    You sat in the diner by yourself, staring down at your laptop. It was midnight, and although you weren’t exactly supposed to be there, you needed to get out of the hell hole that was your house. It had just been constant fighting between your mom and dad. Although they were divorced, they were still forced to live with eachother until your mom got back on her feet. Their constant yelling and screaming at eachother were bad, but not as bad as your depression and anxiety that had been acting up lately. It was bad, and there seemed to be nothing anyone could do about it. So here you sat, trying to write some stupid paper about 'how far would you be willing to go to find the truth’ but nothing was coming to mind except the shit show that was your life. You had no inspiration, no motivation, and honestly you just wanted to cry. Just as you decided it was time to give up, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You turned to face Jughead, and he gave you a small smile, and you attempted to return it, but he could tell something was off.

    “What’s wrong?” he lightly questioned, and you leaned into him, enjoying the feeling of peace while it lasted.

     "Nothing anymore.“ you whispered, only wanting him to hear you, not that there was anyone else in the diner. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

    "Bullshit. Please tell me what’s up.” he mumbled against your skin. You grabbed one of his hands that held tight on your waist and he rubbed small circles on it.

    “I’m stressed because of my parents, I feel like absolute depressed and anxious garbage, and I don’t know what to write for my damn essay. But none of that matters now, you’re here.” he squeezed you tighter with one arm, he and used the other one to open your laptop.

    “We can deal with everything else later, because I can’t allow that. But first, Let’s see what we’re working with…” he said, opening word. “How far would you be willing to go to find the truth..” You stared at the screen, just looking at the blank page made you want to scream and throw your laptop in a blender. “Write about Jason Blossom and his death.” Jughead suggested, and you perked up, an idea forming in your head. Jughead was on the search for truth, and he so far had gone to great lengths for it.

    “Or even better, I could write about you trying to find the truth about his murder.” you said, quickly typing. Jughead watched as words flew across the digital page. He took in every detail of you in this moment, your fingers as they typed, how you bit your lip in concentration, even how your hair fell down across your face and you didn’t even bother moving it because you were so in the zone. He wondered if this is what you felt like when you watched him write. You turned your head and kissed him.

    “My inspiration.” You mumbled against his lips.

Yeah when my world is falling apart

When there’s no light to break up the dark

That’s when I look at you.

When the waves are flooding the shore

And I can’t find my way home anymore,

That’s when I look at you.

    “I can’t do this anymore Jughead!” you yelled, collapsing onto the ground. It was becoming harder to breathe, and your vision was blacking out. Everything around you was blurry, the tears in your eyes distorting everything you looked at.

    “ Y/N please listen to me, everything is going to be okay!” he said tenderly, trying to not let his worry show. He grabbed your shoulders and he looked you in the eyes, his heart breaking as he saw the tears flow out of them. “Listen, I want you to breathe.”

    “I can’t!” you cried, shaking your head.

    “Yes you can, please Y/N. Just try.” he was doing his best to stay calm, but seeing you like this tore him apart.

    “What’s the point Jughead! I can’t do this anymore, I have no reason to!” you sobbed.

    “Y/N you have me!” he yelled.

    “You could do so much better, you’ll find so much better and you’ll leave and I’ll be completely alone!” you bitterly yelled. Y/N looked at him, and started to cry even harder.

    “Juggie I’m so sorry, please don’t cry!” she sobbed. Jughead hadn’t even noticed that tears were rolling down his face, and Y/N had never really seen him cry before. Sure she saw a tear or two every once in a while, but never this many. Her chest got tight and her heart shattered. Jughead pulled her into his chest, and they held eachother.

    “I could never do better than you.” he whispered, rubbing circles on her back. She held onto him tighter, wanting nothing more to make him stop crying. She could feel his tears fall onto her shoulder. “It’s you who could do so much better, I’m not good enough for you Y/N, I-”

    “Forsythe don’t even say that! I love you more than anything in this world, you make me feel less broken and alone and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” she whispered.

    “You do the same for me.” he said, kissing her forehead. You make me feel whole.“

    "Juggie, I know now that my home isn’t a place, my home is you.” she smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face.

    “You’re my home too, Y/N.” he leaned his forehead against hers, and smiled back down at her.

When I look at you,

I see forgiveness,

I see the truth.

You love me for who I am.

Like the stars hold the moon.

Right there where they belong,

And I know I’m not alone.

    “I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered, standing by Jugheads locker at school. He crossed his arms and stared at her.

    “You’re in my way.” he said coldly, although it killed him to talk to her like that. She stepped away from the locker, and he turned his back to her and opened it up. Rummaging through his backpack for his math notebook he did his best to ignore Y/N behind him, no matter how badly he wanted to kiss her and hold her.

    “Juggie can we please talk about this?” she asked.

    “Don’t call me that.” Y/N felt tears stinging in her eyes.

    “Jughead please!” she begged, and Jugheads heart broke at the sound of her voice. He turned around and saw a tear roll down her face.

    “Okay! We can talk if you stop crying.” he said, closing his locker and pulling her into the nearest janitor closet. The door closed behind him and he looked down at her.

    “Jughead I’m sorry! I know that you feel like I’m lying because I have things to hide from you and that I’m distancing myself because you think I’m going to leave you but that’s not the case! Things at home are getting worse and… I was scared to tell you what was going on.” Jughead looked at her worryingly.

    “What do you mean? What’s going on?” he asked, stepping towards her.

    “They… they kicked me out Jughead.” she started to sob, and she wrapped his arms around her. “I’m homeless and I’m alone and maybe I deserve it. Maybe I don’t deserve a home and a family, I’m just a big problem!”

    “No you aren’t.” he whispered, rubbing her back. “And you aren’t alone, you’ll never be alone. Come stay with me.” He said.

    “What?” she asked, looking up at him.

    “Come live with me.” he said again, smiling down at her.

    “Where do you live?” she asked, a bit of excitement present in her voice.

    “Don’t tell anyone, but I live at the Twilight Drive-In.” he whispered, and she stares up at him in shock. He laughed and pulled her towards him again.

    “You wouldn’t want to live with me.” she said. “I dance around too much and sing off key, I eat way too much and I yell at the screen while I watch movies and tv even though they can’t hear me! I sleep all day or I lay in bed and watch YouTube and I talk in my sleep-”  

    “I already know, and I think it’s adorable.” he said, cutting her off. “You’re perfect to me Y/N, and if your parents don’t want you then I’ll sure as hell take you.”

    “Oh Jughead…” Y/N fought back tears, but for a different reason this time. “Are you sure?”

    “Absolutely.” Jughead said, grabbing her hand.

You appear just like a dream to me,

Just like kaleidoscope colours that cover me

All I need, every breath that I breathe

Don’t you know you’re beautiful?

    “I swear Y/N, if you don’t give me back my beanie-”

    “What are you going to do?” Y/N interrupted him, giving a smirk.

    “I’m going to do….” Jughead trailed off, trying to think of a punishment for the (y/h/c) girl standing on the bed smiling down at him. “This.” he said, running towards the girl. He jumped up on the bed and tackled her, pinning her underneath him.

    “Sucks to be you.” she said, grinning ear to ear. Jughead looked around for the beanie, but couldn’t see it anywhere . He looked down at Y/N and she giggled.

    “Where is it?” he asked.

    “That’s on a need to know basis, and I’m sorry, but you don’t need to know.” she said.

    “Actually, I think I do. That’s my beanie.” he playfully argued.

    “Actually, you don’t.” she laughed, trying to mimic his voice.

    “Y/N, please!” He begged. Y/N attempted to sit up, but couldn’t. She fell back down on the bed, and Jughead gave his best puppy dog eyes and stuck out his bottom lip.

    “Is Jughead Jones giving me puppy eyes right now?” Y/N laughed. Jughead rolled his eyes and sighed. He leaned down and fell onto Y/N, now laying on her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she kissed him on the forehead.

    “I think you’ll be okay without it for one day.” she said. Jughead groaned, and it tickled Y/ns neck.

    “I won’t be though! I feel like I look like an idiot without it. Not that I look any better usually.” he said, raising his head so he was looking at her.

    “Um, no.” she quickly sat up, pushing Jughead up too.

    “No what?” he asked, confused by her sudden change in behavior. He sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled Y/N onto his lap.

    “You never look like an idiot. You’re adorable.” Y/N said in a very serious tone.

    “Not exa-” Jughead was cut off by a kiss. He pulled back, and looked up at the girl on his lap. “What was that?” he asked.

    “What I’m not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?” Y/N teased an he chuckled.

    “No, I mean-” again he was cut off with another kiss.  

    “You’re so handsome Jughead.” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled back again and stared at Y/N, and she admired his sweet smile plastered on his face. His hair was messed up, wild and free from his beanie, and the setting suns light shone through the window, lighting the room up beautifully. Y/N felt like she was in a dream, and if it was one she hoped she’d never wake up. He reached up and cupped her face, and she leaned into it.

    “How did I ever get so lucky to have you?” Jughead asked softly.

    “I could ask you the same thing.” she said, leaning down to kiss him again.

    “I love you, Y/N.”

    “And I love you, Forsythe.” she whispered.

  • Someone: OMG your gay!!!?!?!?! Let me introduce you to my gay cousin!!!!!!
  • Me: OMG! You're really gonna play off the stereotype that because we are both gay we're gonna be instantly attracted to each other because I mean there's no way we wouldn't be, we're both gay!!!!!!!!!
  • Me:
  • Someone:
  • Me:
  • Me: Anyways put me in touch with them because due to the area I live in, the fact that I'm under 18 and I live with my parents it makes it very hard to meet people that are not heterosexual and I would really like some LBGTQ+ friends who I could share my experience with and generally feel less alone.
Open letter to sick kids and disabled kids.

Dear sick kids, dear disabled kids,

You may be facing a lot of adults who want to believe that your therapy is fun. You may feel differently. You may not be having fun. That’s ok. You’re not failing. You don’t owe it to anyone to enjoy the things that are happening to you.  

Even if you think the therapy is important, you might not think it’s fun. You don’t have to think that it’s fun. Your feelings are yours, and your feelings matter. No one has the right to tell you how to feel. No one has the right to insist that you think something is fun.

If you don’t think the therapy is a good idea, you have the right to have that opinion. Your parents or other adults may be able to decide what treatments you get. They don’t get to decide what you think, or how you feel. They can’t make things fun by loudly insisting that they are fun, or by making you smile.

It’s ok not to think that your breathing treatments are a fun game. Even if your mask is fish shaped. Even if you put frog stickers on it. Even if you had a lot of fun picking out the stickers. Even if you know that you need it in order to breathe properly. Push come to shove, it’s still a breathing treatment. You are under no obligation to enjoy it. If you’re not having fun, then it’s not fun. Even if people make you smile.

It’s ok if you don’t think a purple hospital gown means that the hospital is fun. Even if you love purple. Even if you put your favorite sparkly heart stickers on it.   Even if you want the operation or procedure you’re having, you don’t have to think that what you’re doing is fun. Even if the volunteers and play therapists are really nice. You’re still in the hospital, and it’s ok to feel however you feel about it.

It’s ok to dislike the tracing exercises your occupational therapist makes you do. Even if she says that they’re really fun and that she loved them when she was your age. It’s ok to think of it as work rather than fun. It’s also ok to think it’s a waste of your time. You are not her, and it’s not ok for her to tell you how to feel. She is not the boss of your feelings, or your likes and dislikes. You are under no obligation to have fun.

It’s ok to dislike singing silly songs with your speech therapist. Even if he tells you in an excited voice all about the great new conversation starter iPad app, it’s ok not to think it’s fun. Even if other kids seem to like it. Even if there are fun prizes for cooperating and smiling. Even if people frown when you don’t seem happy enough. You don’t have to think anything is fun. Your feelings are yours. You don’t owe it to him to like the activities you do, even if he expects it from you.

It’s ok to dislike the sensory diet an occupational therapist puts you on. You don’t have to like being brushed.You don’t have to like weights or weighted blankets.You don’t have to believe that squeezing a fidget toy is better than rocking, and you don’t have to think that chewing a tube makes the lighting and noise any less painful. Your feelings are real. If you like something, that matters, whether or not anyone else thinks it’s important. If something hurts, your pain is real whether or not anyone acknowledges it.

And so on. If you’re sick, or you’re disabled, or you’re both, there are probably a lot of things happening to you that aren’t happening to other kids. It’s ok to have whatever feelings you have about that, even if others desperately want to believe that you think all of it is really fun. It’s ok for you to think that something isn’t fun, even when adults speak in enthusiastic voices, put stickers on things, use fun toys, or whatever else.

It’s ok to think something is fun, and it’s ok to think it’s really not fun. It’s also ok to find something helpful without finding it fun. You have the right to like what you like, and dislike waht you dislike. Your feelings are your own, even if you have to smile to get people to leave you alone. 

It’s ok to like things, and it’s ok to dislike things. You are a real person, your feelings are yours, and your feelings matter. Illness, disability, and youth don’t make you any less real.

I’m Standing Right Here (dad!Tony x reader)

Requests

1. Please can you do a Tony Stark x daughter reader? Like reader is around 18-19 y/o but feels really unwanted (doesn’t have a mum) and that nobody really pays attention but Nat (mum figure), Wanda and Steve (best friends) are always there? Sorry if this was long and specific xxx 

2. Can you do an angsty Tonyxreader where instead of the reader, it’s Tony that’s having problems and his bad habits are getting worse but everyone just thinks it’s stress until he tries to kill himself one day? And everyone, especially the reader feels bad that they didn’t notice and don’t know what to do now to get him help

I couldn’t bring myself to do a suicidal Tony, so I went with it a little differently, hope you don’t mind!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what is your opinion of how the fandom dislikes mon-el's and kara's relationship. do you ship lena and kara? because i ship both and i can see why the fandom hates mon-el and how the writers have made kara dependent on love when she should focus on herself. i know that's what Melissa wanted for season 2 and i feel so bad for her because the writers basically said: lo l n o p e

1. I appreciate your message but I think you contradicted yourself a little. You say you ship Lena and Kara but want Kara to be alone at the same time??? That’s a little paradoxical. I like Kara and Lena’s relationship, actually I love it but not as a romantic pairing. 

2. I don’t think the fandom hates Mon-El. I think a part of the fandom who is incredibly vocal and annoying hates Mon-El. Unfortunately negative people have a tendency to be more vocal about things they hate rather than the ones they love. That’s why haters always seem to have more of a voice than those who actually ship it. Youtube, Facebook, Twitter and all other social media websites are filled with Mon-El/Karamel love. For instance, Karamel scenes on Youtube are the most watched of all Supergirl scenes and have thousands of likes and comments. That doesn’t seem like a ship people hate.

3. I’m sick of the whole “Kara should be independent!!!1!!” argument. I know this is a wild concept for some of you but Kara can be independent AND in a relationship because one doesn’t invalidate the other. We should promote the idea that women can be strong and tough regardless of the path they choose in their love lives. So stop trying to reinforce the idea that women who love romance and are in love are somehow weaker or milder as if they are obligated to be alone in order to be perceived as “strong” and “independent”. Kara is extremely sensitive and a soft little bean who can be in love while simultaneously being a badass.   

4. Mon-El and Kara’s relationship didn’t make Kara’s character development regress. On the contrary, she has evolved since she met him. Firstly, dealing with Mon-El really challenged her perspective about the aliens’ presence on Earth and led her to examine the way she really felt about that issue. She has always been such a strong advocate for alien amnesty but she realized that she too had some preconceived ideas and prejudices that she needed to work on. She was able to acknowledge and overcome that becoming more tolerant in the process and cementing her own views. It also allowed her to explore her frustration for not having been able to help her cousin like she was supposed to and come to terms with that. Moreover, she is now able to follow someone who’s going through the same struggles that she was faced with when she first arrived on Earth and it makes her feel less alone and like someone understands her. And finally, her arc this season has been about her learning to stand her ground as Kara Danvers and not just as Supergirl. Confessing her feelings for Mon-El and allowing herself to be vulnerable helped her do that. So yeah, I’m pretty sure she has grown thanks to her relationship with Mon-El.

5. Don’t feel bad for Melissa because she looks like an excited puppy every time someone asks her about Karamel. Trust me. She ships it. 

Why Chat doesn't feel alone in his new team
  • Queen bee: Hey girls, what do you think would go better with this navy blue dress, golden or silver?
  • Chat Noir: (with his hands on his hips) Well, obviously silver, it will make the colour of the dress stand out more and it will compliment your eyes... But ugh... that top on you will be totally unflattering, long sleeves? V-cut neck? God,... you should have something with less sleeves and less cleavage, believe me.
  • Ladybug: ............
  • Volpina: ..............
  • Queen bee: ..........
  • Chat Noir: .......what?

e-naesheim  asked:

OKAY BUT FAIZA IMAGINE THIS: A scenario similar to the one we got today, everyone is eating pizza, but the boy squad are there as well as girl squad. And Sana walks in and Even says, “I ordered pizza, do you want some?”, and he offers her a slice, and she accepts it politely but starts picking the bits of beef or whatever off, like she did in today’s clip. But then Even says “oh no, don’t worry, it’s halal” and Sana just…smiles, and feels a little less alone, and a little more understood??

SOPHIAAAAAAAA!!!

HELLOOOOOOO MY LOVE!!!

Listen after today I JUST

I NEED EVEN AND SANA MORE THAN AIR.

Like, please give her Even to bond with and talk to who just, completely GETS it, you know? :( Like, he’d understand her SO well??? All her silences, all her glances, her hesitation … ALL OF IT, he’d understand it.

And he’d comfort her and just make her feel so safe? And just … not alone? GIVE ME THIS!!!!

GIVE ME EVEN ORDERING A HALAL PIZZA FOR SANA!!!!! 

10 Ways to Improve Your Mood When Feeling Down by

By: Madison Sonnier

1. Step back and self-reflect. Whenever I start feeling sad, I try to stop, reflect, and get to the root of my feelings.  

2. Reach out to someone. I used to bottle up my feelings out of fear that I would be judged if I talked about them. I’ve since learned that reaching out to a loving, understanding person is one of the best things I can do.    

3. Listen to music. Music can heal, put you in a better mood, make you feel less alone, or take you on a mental journey.  

4. Cuddle or play with pets. Spending quality time with a loving pet can instantly make your heart and soul feel better.  

5. Go for a walk. Walking always helps me clear my head and shed negative energy. It’s especially therapeutic if you choose to walk at a scenic location.  

6. Drink something healthy and reinvigorating. Teas always puts me in a better mood and makes me feel revitalized and serene. There are many health and mood benefits of drinking healthy beverages.

7. Write. Writing is usually the first thing I do when I’m feeling down. It always helps me get my thoughts and feelings out in front of me.    

8. Take a nap. Sometimes we just need to recharge. I always feel better after getting some rest.  

9. Plan a fun activity. Moping around never helps me feel any better, so it usually helps to plan something fun to do if I’m feeling up to it. It can be something as simple as creating my own vision board or something as big as planning a trip.    

10. Do something spontaneous. Some of my favorite memories entail choices I made spontaneously. We should all learn to let go of routine every now and then and do something exciting and unplanned.