does that make me fake


elasticitymudflap  asked:

i know a lot of older lesbians personally (family included) that identify their own experience as "choosing" as opposed to the "born this way" narrative for a ton of reasons, but mainly because lgbt concepts and "discourses" are always evolving and this conceptualizing of it was more prominent at certain times. in any case, the "choice vs btw" debate within lgbt circles will NEVER be in the same field as antigay propaganda lmfao??

i know I KNOW. gosh she really doesn’t wanna treat this situation as layered.

it’s her way or the highway

i h8 when people tell me i’m to young to know i’m bi, but when someone comes out as gay or a lesbian it’s ok and they aren’t to young. wtf? how does that make sense?? or when people tell me being bisexual is fake. no the fuck it’s not, because i have a great girlfriend but i’d hop on seokjin’s dick real ass quick

Honoring hunger cues does not make me weak.

Honoring hunger cues does not make me fake.

Honoring hunger cues does not have any significance on my worth or value as a person, friend, sister, or student.

anonymous asked:

I'm a trans guy and I enjoy dressing/presenting very masculine on a daily basis. However, I do english-style horseback riding and I like presenting as feminine for some reason. I like wearing the girly riding pants/blouses and decorated helmets, and the fancy dressage boots that I all bought from the girls section of the apparel store. Other than that, I hate being seen as female or feminine, but I like it only when I'm riding or performing. Does this make me a fake or a less valid trans dude?

No, it doesn’t invalidate you at all!

You can be as feminine as you want, even if it’s just in this one specific scenario, and still be a 100% valid trans guy!

As a schizoid and a narcissist, seeing posts like “don’t pretend to care about me if you don’t actually” makes me uncomfy because like….. I get where you’re coming from, sure, but I’m not physically capable of doing anything about it? I don’t Really care for anyone or anything but I’m good at faking it; does that make me manipulative? If I acted how I felt, I’d be perceived as a heartless monster. I need to be perceived as perfect

Just because I don’t post other pictures on here or don’t want to trade pictures does not make me a “fake user” if you take time to read profile then you could save yourself time. It is not my job to convince you of who I am, this is for my enjoyment only and I don’t need people saying I’m fake because I don’t want to post or trade pictures with them. I take time to msg people when I can and don’t need to hear people saying I’m not real. Please read profile before thinking of msg me.


Samifer AU(-ish) where Sam finds Lucifer and brings him back to the bunker and Dean is less than happy. Sam’s determined to convince his brother that Lucifer can behave, and Lucifer that humans aren’t so bad, but Dean is ignoring them both and Lucifer won’t stop insulting the human race. However, despite Sam’s worries, both may be slowly coming round to the idea of at least trying to get along.

anonymous asked:

Can you tell Eternity to make a Shamzie moodboard?

That is the best idea I’ve heard in, like, maybe ever! As luck would have it, I sent her a little something this morning that will work perfectly for inspiration.


“I fake fake to have a fake life. Does that make me a real horse? Buy now for $777, wooden saddle sold separately. Real horseshoes not included. Imaginary ones – neither.”
― Will Advise, Nothing is here…

anonymous asked:

nooooo well you dont have to rewrite it again i understand :(((((((


Aaron stared off at Thomas and Alexander. They were sitting on the other side of the food court of the mall, laughing about one thing or another. Alexander’s face was brightened, his lips were pulled up in a wide grin and his eyes were brilliantly illuminated in the light of the sun peering out from the open windows of the mall. Thomas was sitting across, hand reaching out to hold onto Hamilton’s, mouth running off about a story or another and moving his free hand along with his speech.

Aaron’s heart ached as he watched them. He didn’t know jealousy could be so painful. He expected it to be hard, to make his teeth grit and heart blaze with anger and distrust. He expected himself to fall into a pit of fire, he expected the smoke of his rapid thinking to fill up his lungs and choke out his reasonability. He didn’t expect the still waters of realization that he’ll never get to have that. He’ll never get to have him. He was stuck, and when he tried to flail his limps to get to the surface, the realization would slow him, weigh him down, and remind him that he can’t change what’s happening. 

Aaron adverted his eyes, staring at the table he sat at. What was the point of staring? He’d probably get caught, and then he’d need to face the consequences. He doesn’t want to face any consequences right now.

“Hi- are you alone?”

Burr perked, looking up from his stare and blinked in surprise. There was a boy standing beside the table he was at. His hair was ungodly messy, curly and definitely looking for something to engulf. It was just barely controlled by the ponytail that held it back– Aaron noted that the bright pink of the ponytail was a great contrast to the mans brown hair. He had freckles splattered along his face, dripped carefully and neighbored by other tiny specks of light and dark brown alike. His long eyelashes were topped off by bushy eyebrows, and his bright eyes certainly gave off a friendliness to him. Aaron could sense that this man knew he was alone and was just using the question as a conversational starter.

He wouldn’t mind a little bit of conversation.

“I am, actually.” Aaron smiled.

“Oh, sweet! Can I sit with you?” He asked, sitting down anyway despite Aaron not answering his question. Burr almost allowed himself to lift a brow in surprise.

“I’m John Laurens! Heyo,” The boy threw out his hand, clearly eager to get a handshake. Aaron responded by taking his hand and giving a slightly strained smile, “Aaron Burr.”

“Wow, you got one of them comic-book names.” John joked, giving his hand a squeeze before pulling back. Aaron followed likewise.

“You read comic books?” Aaron prompted.

“I only read the cool ones– Like Deadpool and Spiderman. Maybe Batman, but, like, ever sense they strayed from Dick Grayson as the Robin I kinda lost interest. Does that make me a fake fan? Probably, but, dude, I loooovee my Dick Grayson. You like Dick Grayson?” John asked, leaning forward curiously.

“… Are you… asking me…” Aaron lifted a brow, suddenly suspicious of this man’s motives.

“If you like Dick? Yeah,” John winked.

“You’re a dork.” “I’m smooth.” He corrected.

Aaron laughed, genuinely. Who knew he’d meet someone like this at a Food Court in a Mall? “Well, John, just by the seven words I’ve spoken to you, can you infer if I like Dick?”

He could see a curious flicker in the man’s eyes.


Aaron and John were friends now. They’ve known each other for a year, and surprisingly… John hasn’t gotten bored of him. He likes Aaron’s quiet commentary, he likes how Burr gets that one stroke of sarcasm in during any conversation, and he, quote on quote, loves how he can make any situation seem so easy to solve and not so diddly dang intimidating.

Aaron laughed a lot more then he used to too. John helped him forget he was still aching over Alexander and Thomas, aching about how in-love they were and how he wasted his chance. It used to be easy to forget Alexander and Thomas, it used to be so simple and quick. Just call John, ask to hang out, but here he is. Holding an invitation to Alexander and Thomas’s wedding. Staring at the large red, curly font that screamed “INVITED” to him.

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, shaking as John called to him from the living room. They had been watching a movie.

“Aaron? Aaron you okay?” John’s voice was coming closer.

“Fi-ne.” Aaron choked out, cursing his voice as it cracked. He held the invitation to his chest, shaking even harder now that he was fighting away tears and trying to level off his voice. He can’t let John– He’s–

“Aaron, what’s wrong?” 

Aaron opened his eyes, timidly sliding his eyes to him and swallowed thickly. John knew about his adoration with him. He knew how much he ached. Would he be apposed to help him now?

“Aaron.” John looked concerned. His eyebrows were arched upwards, he had a deep tug for a frown on his face, and he was staring worriedly and expectantly.

“They’re… They’re…” Aaron choked on his air, showing the card to Laurens.

John gently plucked it from his hands, glancing his eyes over the words and tensed up as he read. When Laurens was presumably finished, he snapped his eyes up to Aaron and threw the card aside on the floor, rushing forward and squeezed Burr tightly.

He didn’t know why, but seeing the card on the ground, made Aaron feel worse. It made his stomach coil up and his lungs throb. He squirmed, explaining how he couldn’t let it stay on the ground, he couldn’t express how he felt, and John was trying to get him to be quiet– to calm down. Aaron knew this was a switch between the two, he knew it was weird for Laurens to need to comfort him, and for that reason this moment made him feel even worst.

“Y-You don’t– You don’t need to do th-” Aaron choked out, feeling his eyes leak fresh tears down his warming cheeks.

“Shut up,” John said. Aaron shook his head, repeating to John that he didn’t need to try and help him, how he was fine, and he was going to be fine. 

He felt cold hands cup his cheeks and pull him up and into John’s face. Aaron’s eyes were fastened shut, they felt glued, but he could definitely feel the presses and sucks against his lips. He could feel John kissing him. There was soft hums vibrating from Aaron’s throat, a slight objection to this, but Laurens tilted his head and nipped his bottom lip and that was the end of it. Aaron’s jaw dropped and he could feel them heating the kiss up even more. The hums that once objected were turning into pliant noises that wanted more, craved more, responded positively and urged Laurens to take advantage.

Aaron’s tears had miraculously ceased by the time the kiss was done, and his lungs no longer had the sharp pain of him denying himself air but instead the soft throb of him being too busy to obtain it. He slowly opened his eyes, swallowing thickly as he and John held eye contact. It was silent, all Burr could decipher from the situation was the fact that he was squeezing so tightly onto John’s jacket that his knuckles were paling. 

“Are you okay…?” John whispered quietly.

Aaron felt his bottom lip tremble, “No.”

John nodded in understanding, pulling Burr into his chest again and breathed out. “I’m… I’m here with you, Aaron. I’m here. I won’t leave you for some ruddy southern guy.”

Aaron gave a sore laugh, hugging John back just as tightly. “Y-You are the ru-ruddy southern guy.”

“Then looks like you found your man, huh?” John whispered, as if shy to saying it.

Aaron’s chest clenched up, eyes watering again. “Y-Y’think…?” He asked, too shy to confirm or deny it. He did have strong emotions for John, could he label that as love? Could he dare deny it as affection and instead a strong friendship? Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, shaking a bit as John nodded against him.

“I know.” He whispered.