coming down my face

Please take a few minutes of your time to read this. I’m not asking for anything. I just think that this is something that isn’t said enough.

My mom is extremely homophobic and recently, she found out that I’m gay. I didn’t tell her. My brother was talking to my mom and let it slip. And if I was not ready to tell her, I was definitely not ready for the backlash of her knowing.
I was taking a nap when my mom found out. The moment my brother let it slip, he tried to take it back but it was too late. They started arguing and it woke me up. I couldn’t really hear what they were saying and looking back at it now, I’m glad I couldn’t. I later found out that my brother was trying to explain to my mom that nothing was wrong with me for liking girls. That my happiness was all that mattered. But my mom wouldn’t listen to a word he said. So my brother begged her not to say anything to me. Not until I told her myself. And she didn’t.

I could feel the tension during dinner but I didn’t bring it up until later that night. While I was getting ready to go to bed, my mom started asking me questions about boys. What kind of boys I like and stuff like that. Instead of answering the question, I changed the subject and asked about the argument. Her expression immediately changed from lighthearted to somber. In that instant, I knew I would regret asking. She looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I liked girls. The moment I registered what she was asking, I froze. I just stood there, staring at her. Tears began streaming down my face because I knew what was coming. And I wasn’t ready for it.

I never answered her question but my reaction was all she needed for confirmation. She became hysterical. She began saying things that I mostly blocked out because they hurt too much. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t a choice, that I didn’t choose to be gay and she told me that I needed to change my thought process because my father was going to be ashamed of me. My father died of brain cancer when I was four and I always feared what he would think of me if he was still alive today. Hearing my mom say that hurt like hell. I broke down and my brother tried to comfort me but I cried myself to sleep that night.

The next day, my mom acted like she didn’t just tear my heart out. She pretended like it didn’t happen and avoided making eye contact with me for a week. Now, we’re sort of back to normal but our relationship is strained. She’s in denial, always making passing remarks about homosexuals, and it will never go back to being the same after that.

Thank you for reading this. When I told my friends what happened, they told me that it was bound to happen eventually and that it was better my mom found out now. But they didn’t understand the feeling of having your mom tell you that she would rather die than have a gay child. Let me tell you, it was the worst feeling I have ever experienced in my 17 years of life.

If you know anyone who identifies on the lgbt+ spectrum, please don’t out them. Even if they stole your crayon when you were in Kindergarten and you haven’t liked them since, don’t out them. I had it better than most people. I know children who have been kicked out of their homes for being different. So don’t out anyone. Don’t bash anyone for being in the closet. You don’t know their situation. When they’re ready, they will work things out on their own.

  • Psychic: *reads my mind*
  • My mind: Can you hear, my heart beat? Tired of feeling, never enough. I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come tr-
  • Psychic: *tears running down face* and there'll be no more darkness when you believe in yourself you are unstoppable

Happy #SyndullaSunday with an eversoslightly different photo!

Hexed

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Reader and Dean are…you guessed it…hexed.  Is it a sexual curse or something more?

Word Count:  2111

Warnings:  Lots of language, lots of smut (rough-ish smut)

As always, feedback is appreciated.  Tags are at the bottom.

Originally posted by holy-fucking-damn-shit

Hexed 

There is a time and place for everything, this is neither the time nor the place. Not for Dean to be looking at me like that, no sir. Had I always hoped he’d fix those ethereal green eyes on me that way? My mama didn’t raise a liar, so I’m not going to lie to you. Yeah, I want that man to fix those eyes on me just like that. Wanted him to for a long time now. There’s a lot of things I want from Dean Winchester.  That man is a walking wet dream, sex on bow-legs.

Things is, he’s not supposed to be looking at me like that. Sure as hell not right this very minute.  It’s not part of the plan. We’re working a fucking case for god’s sake. I’m not talking about research or footwork, interviewing and investigating. We are legitimately standing in this room right the fuck now and a motherfucking witch was just here with us. There is a blade in my hand and a gun in his. We had a job to do, one goddamn job.

Now that bitch of a witch is gone. Poof, vanished, adios amigos, just fucking gone. She mumbled some shifty spell work and now Dean fucking Winchester is looking like he wants to screw my brains out.

I’m looking right back at him and I got the same look in my eye.  

I don’t know what that piece of shit did to us, but my breasts are heavy, achy. My nipples are straining against the fabric of my bra and if somebody doesn’t touch them right this very instant and relieve that pressure, I’m going to scream. Or come. I don’t know which.  

There’s a burning in between my thighs, I’m squeezing them together hoping to ease some of the pressure but it’s only making it worse. Times infinity. My skin is all heat and fire, I’m consumed by need and lust.

Dean is a mirror, his eyes reflect back at me the same fever I’m feeling. I can see his cock - Jesus fucking Christ - swelling and straining against those blue denim jeans. In three short steps his crossed the room, a strangled sound leaving his lips before his lips press to mine. Our weapons clatter to the ground making one hell of a racket, but I give no fucks.

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2

“it’s $20 for a photo right?”
“yes!”
“i only have $19 is that ok–”
“oh, stop! keep the money, sweetheart!!! we were all college students once, give her your phone.”

extras:
“hey, nice case” (i have a hamilton case im crying)
“i saw you when you were in In The Heights!!”
“oh my god what were you??? like 5???”

ME CURRENTLY

anonymous asked:

Do you think that before Flynn stole the mothership he tracked Lucy down at all? I'm sure he would have been curious about the mysterious professor who wrote his journal-from-the-future. So I can picture him finding her at her university and attending one of her lectures or something. What are your thoughts?

Oh, my god, Anon. My thoughts are I have had these EXACT THOUGHTS!

He DEFINITELY looked her up before the series starts! No doubt. None. Erase all doubt from your mind. We don’t know the degree of it. Maybe Flynn searched online for information about her. Maybe he read one of her books (a history book– not the sad, handwritten one). Maybe, yes, he even sat in the back of at least one lecture. We don’t know how far he went researching her (he’s an intelligence gathering special agent and this could actually be quite in depth– he has her tax returns), but we do know that Flynn looked Lucy up in the present day before setting his plan in motion.

And it all sounds like an interesting little possibility and fan theory, one more connection Flynn and Lucy have before even meeting face to face, but the logical part of our brain is still like, “Proof?”

How about the fact that, in the Pilot, he knew what she looked like? Yeah. Once you realize Flynn picked her out of a frantic crowd at night in front of an explosion, it hits you: “How did he know her face?” Lucy can write her entire life story in that journal. Flynn can know her mind as well as she knows herself. But unless Lucy included a photograph, he would not know her to see her. He’d pass her on the street. Conclusion: either through research or because he staked her out (attended one of her classes), Flynn was familiar with what Lucy looked like prior to meeting her in 1937.

Now, you can argue the above. You could say that one brief, mid-episode snippet is the real first time Flynn sees her. The part when he’s watching the three be arrested after he called in that tip on them.

BUT! he is very, very far away. And he’s not even the one looking through the binoculars when it happens. 

He certainly can’t make out her face. And would he really approach her later with his biggest identifier being that she had on a brown coat? Why would he WANT to leave it up to chance? Why would he risk not knowing what Lucy looks like before going into the past where he knows he’s going to run into her? I really don’t think he would.

Also (just mentioning) Flynn’s guy that Wyatt kills in the hangar knew who Lucy was, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Flynn did brief his men about her though. We know that. Because after realizing who she was (whether because Flynn passed around a picture of her or because he said she’d be the woman following them), the man said, “Flynn wants to talk to you.” So Flynn made certain his men knew who Lucy was and that, if found, she should be brought to him, presumably unharmed.

I really think it makes sense that Flynn looked her up beforehand. It makes more sense than him not doing it. Checking up on Lucy just fits Flynn’s character. Not only for curiosity’s sake, but because Flynn won’t be caught unaware again. After Rittenhouse and his family, Flynn researches, he double-checks. The man has become obsessively prepared. It’s like a compulsion he now has. He needs that sense of control so much he doesn’t even delegate unless he has to. He trusts no one. He does everything himself. He’s paranoid something will go wrong. So many episodes, he has to check the journal before allowing himself to act. Even in 1.12, he pulled it out and studied the drawing before approaching Emma’s cabin. He looks before he leaps, and you can’t tell me that doesn’t include investigating Lucy before thrusting them into the situation where they meet. He would want to know her first, familiarize himself a little better.

So yes, he looked her up before stealing the Mothership. Fight me.

So, from time to time I help out my uncle, who’s a vendor. And the way he works is that he delivers the product, and depending on the store he’ll either stock it on the shelf or leave if for the workers at the store to stock. At the Food store with the Lion as a mascot, he stocks the product, and at the Lo-Bi he stocks it as well. At the Groker, he leaves it for the workers at the store to stock.

Now, he’s got awful knee and hip problems, like when he was younger he had to get extensive surgery on his knees and pins in his hips (not entirely sure what all he had to do). But, this man is 56 years old, and he offers me $30 to work with him on his extremely busy days plus free food. I of course normally help him, he’s like a father to me (and plus I just like having money. Broke college student and he’s offering 30 bucks and food?! Hell yeah). But boy do I have some stories for you here, and here’s just one.

One of which is this woman I’ll call D. D, I assume, bad never been in this store, since she was wandering around like she was lost. Also, just to clear up a few things about this story, I am only allowed to stock and deal with my uncle’s product. That’s it. I’m not allowed to mess with any other product, not allowed to change prices of anything, and I only stock what my uncle brings in (it’s chips, pretzels, cookies, and crackers btw). If my uncle doesn’t bring in sour cream and onion chips, well that just means we don’t have any to stock. I don’t even go to the back room unless my uncle is with me because I’m not an official worker of the Lion company.

But D doesn’t seem to understand this. She comes up and asks me where the milk section is. Now, I don’t mind pointing things out, I go to the Lion store often myself. I point out where the milk section is located and go back to putting up bags of chips. But apparently this wasn’t enough for D, because she just continued to stand there. I noticed she hadn’t moved and asked “Was there something else you needed ma'am?”

D started getting a little irritated with me. “Yes, I want you to go get the milk FOR me!” she says.

I’m a little taken-aback by this for sure. Like, I’m wearing jeans and a Black Veil Brides tshirt and a blue beanie. I obviously don’t work for the Lion company, and I’m sure people who DO work there wouldn’t appreciate her speaking to them like that. So I calmly just say “Ma'am, I’m sorry, but I only deal with this product right here that I’m stocking. I don’t actually work here, but as I’ve said, the milk is over there next to the cold items. If you’ll excuse me though, I need to stock the rest of this product onto this shelf before I go to the next store.”

And that set D off. She started yelling at me about bad customer service, and how she was gonna get me fired, and how she needed my manager’s name right now so I can be fired on the spot. I have bad social anxiety, so when people start yelling at me I either start crying or start to shut down (as in my resting bitch face comes out, my eyes apparently look dead or just extremely exhausted to some people, and my voice drops like two octaves. All semblance of the nice dude you were just talking to disappears). This was once of those times when I started to just shut down.

As D was yelling at me, I noticed my uncle (who looks like a lumberjack just btw, not even gonna lie) walking down the aisle to get over to me. So I just went “Ma'am. I have told you before that I do not actually work here. Now, before I am forced to call security, I think you should stop yelling at me. If you would like to talk to the person in charge of me, turn around and talk to my uncle, because I’m sure he’d like to know why some lady is yelling at his favorite nephew for something that is not my fault.”

D turns around and notices my uncle standing there and immediately starts yelling at him about how I’m an awful person and that I need to be fired right this moment for having horrible customer service. My uncle, without missing a beat, looks behind him and goes “Hey! T! Get this bitch out of here, she’s scaring my nephew!”

As far as I know, D was banned from the store for a couple of months. My uncle didn’t get in trouble at all, especially because I knew everyone who worked in that store and had known the store owner (T) for 6 years. He was the first person to offer me a job over the summer actually, but I had to turn it down because of a summer program at my college. He’s a nice person though, and fired one of his workers on the spot when they were saying some (pretty awful) transphobic comments to me.

Tl;dr: Lady decides to yell at me for not getting her milk for her and my uncle has the store owner (who practically treats me as part of his family) kick her out.

Admit It

Anon Prompt: “Hi, can you do one where Juggie gets really jealous of best friend Y/N because she always goes out but she is just doing it on purpose? Because she likes him? Then they admit their feelings.”

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: Underage drinking, borderline underage alcoholism, underage sex, smut, porn with plot, swearing. I know you said smut or fluff but there’s going to be smut and angst

A/N: I just wanted to say that I’m really thankful for the kind messages from everyone and for the followers who have been so patient with me. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve also never written heterosexual smut before, so sorry if it sucks!! Smut is in the read more, so don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with smut and non asexual jughead 

Originally posted by bettytail


The people around me cheer as I furiously chug the beer, I’m in a race against Reggie Mantle.
Loser must buy the winner a life time supply of Pop’s whenever they want.

Half of the party seems to be cheering me on, whilst the other cheers for Reggie’s victory; from the corner of my eye, I look over at Reggie who at the wrong time, sucks in air and ends up choking, he spits beer everywhere.
I finish mine and crush the can triumphantly; I smile at Reggie who is wiping beer of his face.

“Good game, Mantle.” I laugh, holding my hand out.

“I can’t believe I lost to a girl.” He huffs, shaking my hand.

“Didn’t you get the memo, Reggie? Chauvinism is dead.” Jughead says, wrapping his arm around me.

“Hey Juggie!” I giggle, the alcohol is going to my head, so is the loud thrum of the music.

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