girls of a certain age

2

Something New, Something Old

A belated Kuroken Day collaboration​ ~
Story by @nimbus-cloud
Art by @mookie000

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Kuroo Tomoko was a confident woman; not completely lacking in humility as the word ‘pride’ might suggest, no, she was confident.  She had faith in her abilities (and her son’s, whatever she might say), and she held her observational skills in high regard.  It was how she had known her son’s sexuality long before he finally outed himself and how she knew now that Kenma was nervous standing in front of her. 

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Matty’s Interview with The Sunday Times Style

I wish I had a teenage daughter. Why? Because here I am with Matt Healy, the frontman of the 1975, who has just offered to take his shirt off in order to give me a tattoo tour. There’s the one dedicated to his nana; his mum, Denise “Loose Women” Welch, is on his foot; his dad, Tim “Auf Wiedersehen, Pet” Healy, is on his arm; and his brother, Louis, on the back of a calf; there’s the one dedicated to William Burroughs, the author of his favourite ever book, Queer; then there’s the one on the inside of his left wrist… of his passport number. “I got bored of being constantly woken up by a woman offering me a landing card while my tour manager, who always carries my passport, is conked out somewhere behind me. I thought it would be useful. It’s really all I need on a plane.

Welcome to the world of the 1975, whose second album, I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful yet So Unaware of It (yes, really), went straight to No 1 in both America and the UK last year, and who won the best band award at the Brits in February. They have just announced that their third album, Music for Cars, will be out next year, and when we meet they are about to go on tour, kicking off in Mexico and ending in July at Latitude Festival in Suffolk, where they will headline alongside Fleet Foxes and Mumford & Sons. If you’re not familiar with their music — think Pete Doherty mixed with One Direction, maybe — it’s probably because, like me, you’re too old. That said, Mick Jagger, whom the band supported when the Stones played Hyde Park in 2013, is a huge fan — so fond of their hit single Chocolate, he has been known to put it on after dinner for guests.

Yeah, I remember that gig,” says the 28-year-old Healy, with a faint Northern accent. “It was before I had my eyes lasered and I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Pointless. There were 50,000 people there and I could only see about four of them, but out of the corner of my eye I could just make out this gyrating figure and it was Jagger dancing to Chocolate. Mick Jagger — can you f****** believe it?

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So like… can we start really REALLY getting people to understand that you don’t NEED to have a relationship before a certain age??? ESPECIALLY young girls who are SUPER vulnerable to older creepy dudes who prey on this kind of stuff

Believing that my worth depended on wether I had someone interested enough in me to fuck me was what pushed me into getting into many destructive relationships, one after another, all of it BEFORE I turned 20. And now I’m 25, and after ruining the only good relationship I ever had I am barely starting to pick up what little I got left of myself after all that to see if I can be a person again

YOU DON’T NEED TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP-NO MATTER WHAT OTHERS THINK OF YOU YOU ARE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL AND LOVED. PROTECT YOURSELF KID

Growing Up Butch

Relating to boys on TV. Liking girls on TV. Wishing there girls like you on TV, starting to feel like there’s something wrong with you.

Taking solace in the few little tomboys on TV, until they hit puberty and changed. Dreading that.

Reaching a certain age and realizing the girls you liked were hardly characters, hardly different from each other. Feeling anger for women and girls; as if that doesn’t include you.

I want young butches to see themselves, and know they are okay.

thymusvulgaris  asked:

isnt it kind of weird for an adult to look at a character thats a minor and think about whether theyre dtf or not? like im sure you dont have any bad intentions but like... an adult really shouldnt be thinking about a fictional minor in that way, even if it's just projecting or whatever

i think you’re having a bit of a misunderstanding here?

this kinda mindset implies that children can’t develop their sexuality at a young age. Children who are gay, bi, pan, ace, etc, exist. they’re not sexually active, but that’s not required to know what they like. 

many children, by a certain age, already know that they like girls, or boys, or both, or neither. i know when i was a kid i wasn’t really attracted to anyone, and now i realize that’s because i was aro/ace. i know because i grew up and found the words to describe myself and now i understand myself better.

LGBTQ+ children exist.

it would’ve been a lot easier to identify my own sexual/romantic orientation before i turned 20 had i had characters like that when i was younger and the right vocabulary to apply to them.

so like… what you’re suggesting here is to headcanon minors as having these identities is somehow wrong? it’s… kind of like denying their existence, in a way. or saying that their existence is wrong. 

personally, i dislike imagining ANY of the MHA kids in sexual situations, and i usually block posts like it when i see it (and it’s one of the reasons why i’m so picky with content). because they are kids. i don’t like seeing them in sexual situations, or seeing them sexualized, or anything like that. because i am an adult, and they’re children. 

but that’s completely different then headcanoning that they like boys, girls, nonbinary peeps, or if they’re bi or ace, etc. there’s a very big difference there, and i think you’re blurring the line a little. 

being LGBTQ+ isn’t inherently sexual, after all.

it’s just… you know. existing

10

TOP 15 GIRL MEETS WORLD EPISODES (as voted by my followers)
11 = Girl Meets First Date (1.20)

“When a father turns a certain age, things will start happening to you that you don’t understand. It’ll confuse you, but it’s a magical time. Don’t worry. This is all normal and it’s just your body’s way of telling you that you are a woman. Look, if it makes you feel any better, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as a beautiful fantasy world that only includes the two of them and not you anymore.”

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2

AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: Here is the second chapter. Thank you so much for your interest in my story!

Silence enveloped the inside of the small carriage as we travelled further into the countryside. The only noises were the occasional neighs from the horses, and the sound of the carriage’s wheels, and horse hooves, against the gravel road.


My new guardian sat right in front of me and, as it was very cramped, our knees practically touched. His musky cologne was made even more apparent in the enclosed space. 

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I really appreciate that Henry VII is supposed to be the romantic hero of The White Princess is but is in fact a fucking nerd who keeps locking his wife’s relatives in various towers while his old uncle is like, fifteenth century Ryan Gosling out here making us swoon and “hey girl”-ing all Ladies of a Certain Age like when will the Jasper Tudor romance novels be released???

Emison spinoff? Write our own!

How I felt waiting to see if Ali will live on or if it will only be in my mind…

Me in denial: you can’t just walk away after this? Or this?

Then I realized, they can and will. I have never been known to accept what I can’t change, so forget them. We can finish this story ourselves…


THE PRICE

CHAPTER 1

“GRACE!!!!!”

She jammed her headphones back down, pretending she hadn’t heard her name bouncing off every wall in the house. She couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. So what if her moms were getting married? Alright fine, renewing their vows, tomato tohmato, all the same. It wasn’t enough that her parents were already the gossip of the town, they had to go and do something to highlight their existence once again.

“Hey,” Grace glared as her earphones went tumbling to the floor. Staring at her was the same set of blue eyes that have been there since the day they were born, they may have been identical, but looking at them now, they were different as night and day.

“Get up, mom is calling you,” Lily hissed at her sister. “Why do you always have to act like a drama queen? Can’t you just for once pretend that you’re not the only one who exists, and I don’t know, help make things a little easier?”

Lily pushed her sister out the door. Grace knew better than to argue, Lily wasn’t one for confrontation. She often didn’t say much but when she did, Grace knew better than to poke the bear. Lily was a lot like her mom, she was the sweet one, loyal to the core, always looked at the bright side, but once pushed, she was as vicious as a lion on the hunt at dinner time.

Grace, on the other hand, was a lot like their other mom, hot headed, quick tempered, and the type who hated having to follow rules. She gagged at that thought, no one ever wants to be compared to their mom, then she laughed, she would never admit it out loud but she wouldn’t mind being like her mom when she got older.

Ali could feel someone watching her, she smiled as she saw her youngest standing in the doorway looking annoyed as usual. “Grace, come here, I need you to fix this.” She motioned to the computer, “Nothing wants to move, and I can’t get it to do anything.”

Grace grudgingly walked over. Ali reached up and rubbed Grace’s forehead, “Honey, scowling isn’t a look that suits you.” She kissed her cheek and moved away from the screen.

Her mom had a way of making her feel like a baby, and Grace couldn’t say she minded. When it was just the two of them she didn’t mind still being the baby, but of course not around others. Ali smoothed Grace’s long brown hair as she sat in front of the computer screen, she always marveled at how beautiful her girls had turned out. To think, she actually debated on having the baby, if it hadn’t been for Emily, her life would have been so different.

She remembered that faithful night when Emily had whispered the 8 words that changed her life, “Ali, I want you to have the baby.” At the time, she had been terrified, she had been so confused about everything, but looking down at Grace, she knew she had made the right decision.

The girls knew everything, how they were conceived, how their family could have been so different, how difficult the circumstances were, but they had long decided that once the girls had reached a certain age they would talk to them so that the whispers of this small town wouldn’t get to them. This town had secrets, but they always bubbled to the surface, Ali and Emily knew how toxic that could be and they weren’t about to let that affect their girls.

Grace clacked away at the keyboard. She didn’t rush, she actually liked her mom stroking her hair, once again something she would never admit out loud. She had fixed the problem but was in no hurry to give up her seat. Her mom was always busy with her other kids. 

Being a teacher meant you shared your mom with a hundred other kids. Grace knew her mom loved her but she always had to share her time, and she had found that as she got older she actually missed being around her. She knew it wasn’t cool to hang out with your parents, so it definitely was a delicate balance.

Ali was amazed at how quick Grace was. Her daughter had an aptitude that she was sure was not from her or Emily. Both her daughters had a quick wit about them and was thankful that they would be able to fend for themselves. They were different as night and day, but the certain characteristics they both shared were the core ones that mattered to Ali.

“Done.” Grace stood up. Ali smiled at her daughter, “Thanks honey, now go help your sister with dinner, we are expecting company.”

Grace rolled her eyes. Lily never wanted help. Most times, she would spend half the time redoing everything Grace had done because it had to be done her way. Grace found it easier to just watch Lily, then she could say she was at least there when asked.

She walked into the dining room and the table was already set. There were five table settings and we were even using the good China. Lil walked in balancing a huge silver platter that was probably half her size. Her sister made it look easy, but Grace knew that it had to be heavy.

“What’s for dinner?”

Lily answered as she carefully set the dish in the center of the table, “Roasted potatoes, glazed ham with salad greens, and apple pie for dessert.” Someday Lily was going to make some girl real happy, Grace, on the other hand, was glad her sister at least had the patience to teach her to cook rice and soup.

She smiled at that thought. They had burnt the first four batches before she had finally gotten the hang of it. She remembered how she had been so proud when she had finally gotten the perfect pot, holding it up and showing it off when their mom walked in, saw all the burnt pots, then proceeded to read her the riot act about wasting food. Lily had felt so bad she stepped in and said it was her idea, but that didn’t stop them from having to eat burnt rice for the next three days.

“Mom wants me to help, so….” She trailed off, waiting for Lily to tell her what she needed. “It’s done already so just get cleaned up I guess. Auntie Spencer will be here soon.”

Grace nodded as she walked out of the room.

Feverishly Protective

Harry Styles - 1781 words (Requested)

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“No sweetheart, you’re sick. Stay in.” I press my lips to Harry’s forehead, rubbing his shoulder as he grunts while trying to get up. For the whole day Harry had been terribly ill, but still trying to convince me that he wasn’t even near to being sick and he was fine to hang out with the boys in the afternoon. When he returned from whatever they were doing, he was even more miserable than when he left. “I’m fine, I told you. I’ll get a shower and then we can leave.” Harry groans when he sits up and his hands immediately fly towards his forehead, rubbing as if he was sporting a gruesome headache.

“Babe, you can barely sit up. It’s fine, Lou and Niall are also staying in. It’s just a few of us girls and I think Liam is tagging along, he was meeting with a guy named Josh?” I squint my eyes, trying to recall the name Liam had said earlier while we spoke on the telephone. I pick up the wet rag I had left Harry on the coffee table, pushing Harry back so his back is resting against the sofa and let the wet rag run over his forehead to cool him down. Harry sighs out in bliss, the boy is so stubborn and if anything he doesn’t want me taking care of him when he’s sick because he feels he should be taking care of me.

“Does that feel good?” I ask him, letting the rag rest there and over his eyes as he stays in the position I pushed him in. His shirt is scattered with sweat marks, his sweatpants low on his hips but I know that as soon as I leave through the door he discards both towards the floor. He’s burning up and I simply can’t get him to take anything anti-inflammatory, so he has to suffer if he wants to be that way.

“Yeah, thank you love.” Harry sighs out as his rough, calloused hand runs over my jeans covered leg. I give him a small smile even though he can’t see it and let my hand rest against his that is still cupping my thigh, giving it a tiny squeeze to let him know it’s alright. “I love those jeans on you.” He murmurs, rubbing the fabric as he keeps his eyes closed, clearly drained with his illness.
“Do you want me to stay home?” I ask him, letting my bum rest on the sofa next to him. I’m already fully dressed, make-up and hair done and I was actually leaving ten minutes ago, but Harry seemed so desperate for a little help and when he realized the time he wanted to tag along.

“No, don’t stay home for me. Enjoy yourself, we’re not joined at the hip.” Harry chuckles and I roll my eyes at his statement. Harry was the jealous type and whenever a guy came too close in my range for his liking, he’d pop up out of nowhere and make sure the boy knew who I’d belong to. I didn’t really mind it though, I thought it was sort of sweet that he cared for me on such a level. As long as he doesn’t see my male mates as threats everything will be alright.

“H., I’ll be fine I promise. I won’t stay too long, make sure you drink enough, okay?” I feel the guilt already creep up on my shoulders and rest there as I press my lips to his damp forehead, sweat mixed with the water I’d wetted the cloth with.  “Behave.” Harry breathes as he tries to press his lips to mine but I avoid them, as much as I hate to, I have no idea what he has right now and I’m not actually willing to get sick. I won’t be able to care for him when I’m down as well. “I love you very much Harry.” I smile and wink at his as I squeeze his cheek, stepping away from him and towards the coat rack to grab my jacket and clutch. I glance once more at my sick boyfriend, taking a deep breath before I wave at him and walk out the door.

I spot a text from one of the girls, asking me where I’ve been and before I can reply I was being held up by Harry, the device vibrates in my hand with a call from her.
“Y/n, you okay?” I laugh as I descend down the stairs, one hand resting against the white wall so I wouldn’t tumble down the stairs in my high heels. “Yeah yeah sorry, Harry’s sick and he wanted to come. Had to move mountains to get him to stay home.” I chuckle at the end of my sentence, hearing a snort leave my friend’s lips on the other end of the line.
“We’re just passing your street, want us to pick you up?”

I contemplate the offer as I keep pacing in the lobby of the flat building Harry lives in.
“I don’t know, I promised Harry that I wouldn’t be home late tonight..” I sigh out, rubbing my forehead as I can already feel a small headache crawling its way into my brain.
“I promise you we’ll drop you off when you want to go home Y/n. Come outside, we’re here.” She responds as if she knows otherwise I’d say no and I end the call as I step into the chilly London air.

I see the sleek black vehicle waiting a few meters to my left, its headlights illuminating my way. I pull open the back seat door and chime a hello to two of my girl friends, which I’ve met through Harry and the other boys over a year ago. “Hi Y/n. Harry that sick?”
I shrug my shoulders, buckling up as I lean between the two seats so I could level with them. “The boy has a fever which would’ve put me in the hospital already. I hope I can get him to go to the doctor’s tomorrow if it doesn’t get better.”

“Harry is a stubborn man, always has been. Surprised he isn’t with you.” I chuckle and we arrive at the local pub in no time, parking the car and meeting up with Liam and his girlfriend who were waiting outside for us to arrive. “Y/n, did you get Harry to stay home? Wow, I’m surprised.” Liam smiles as his arms envelope me in a loose hug and I roll my eyes as I retreat, slapping his arm loosely. “I’m still surprised about it as well. Wow, new tattoo Lee?” I take his hand between my fingers, examining the new art work etched onto his skin forever.

I’m sitting at the bar after a full hour of dancing, enjoying a drink as the others continued, Liam off in the distance chatting away with a guy that looked familiar but I couldn’t place. Probably a mutual friend of him and Harry I’ve once spotted at one of their homes. I’m constantly thinking about Harry though, hoping he’s doing fine.

My thoughts are interrupted when a body sets itself next to me, his large hands cupping a beer which is halfway finished. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone on such a lovely evening.”
Internally I am already rolling my eyes as I let my gaze fall onto the man, giving him a small, fake smile as I bring my own drink back to my lips. “I’m not alone, just having a rest.”

“I must say, I saw you dancing and those jeans are heaven on you, girl.” I don’t answer, frankly I’m spooked by his way of giving me a compliment. Don’t men ever realize that talking about how ‘hot’ a girl is or looks isn’t that appreciated after you’ve passed a certain age?

“Can I offer you another drink, perhaps?” I shake my head no as I let my finished glass out of my grip and set it back onto the bar. “No thank you, I think I’m heading back over to my friends.” I try to stand up but his hand lands on my arm, stopping my movement. “I really want to get to know you.”
I see the girls eyeing me and just as I want to wave them over to save me from this creep, a familiar voice behind me pops up and saves the day.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d let go of my girlfriend, mate.” Harry’s rough, refrained voice chimes against my ear as his hand rests on my waist. I grin widely as I turn my head towards him mentally thanking him for showing up, even though I could scold him from being outside right now.
“I didn’t know she had a boyfriend man, she was dancing by herself and –“ Harry stops the boy’s rambling with his raised hand, his jaw locked as he glares at him.

“I don’t give a fuck frankly, go find another one, she belongs to me.” It seems like the guy isn’t ready to give up but Harry pushes my body behind his and the guy raises to his feet quickly, his hands up in a defensive manner. “Alright alright, I’ll leave her alone. She isn’t that cute anyways.” He murmurs under his breath as he pushes past Harry and I have to pull Harry’s shirt as hard as I can manage as he tries to go after him. “Leave it.” I breathe out as I let my arms wrap around his waist.
“Why are you here? You’re sick you should be in bed.” I grunt, glaring at my boyfriend as I push him away from me as soon as I feel the hotness seep through his shirt.

“I had a feeling this would happen, and I’m not leaving my girl out alone with so many freaks roaming London.” Harry states and I bite my lips and refrain of rolling my eyes, rubbing his sides in a soothing manner when I see him shudder from his fever. “Come on.” I pull him along and the girl smile as they see Harry, giving me a thumbs up before Harry refocuses my attention back on him.

“Nobody is stealing my girl.” He gruffly states and I roll my eyes as I squeeze his hot torso a bit closer to me. “You are mental. Let’s go home, you’re burning up.” I push Harry towards the exit of the pub, holding him close to me but winking at the girls as I wave them goodbye. They knew and I knew it would end this way, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I hope you enjoyed,
Lots of love,
L. xox

isnotaband-isanidea  asked:

Request for the family au!! Who gives the "birds and bees" talk and who does the body changes one? Does auntie Allura advices Pidge on her female issues? Who has the rebel phase first? Who brings a date first? I want to see Sheith handdling teenagers

HAHHA the birds and the bees. Hoboy. They wanted to split it up but they decided to have a “Family Meeting.” [The Voltron Family]

Hunk: What’s the meeting about? *nervous* I admit, I stole some cookies the other night, but other than that I’m clean! *hands in defense*
Keith: You what?! I just baked those! 
Lance: I may or may have not watched television in the living room at 1am! To be fair, it wasn’t my fault Stripperella was in that time slot!!
Shiro: You watch Stripperella??? *in disbelief*
Keith: On Jack TV????? That.. that… *fumes* STRIPPER?!!
Lance: Ah! *points* So you know of it, Daddy Keith!
Keith: *throws hands in the air* Of course I know of it!! But that’s not the point. *looks at Shiro and says weakly* Our son watches that damn show. Oh my god. Where did we go wrong? *sobs into his hands*
Shiro: *smiles weakly* Guess this family meeting is a bit appropriate then.
Hunk: Wait, before that, shouldn’t Pidge admit something too?
Pidge: *sighs* I may have hacked Daddy Shiro’s laptop because I wanted to get a photo of him and Daddy Keith for my project.
Shiro: You what? *scandalized*
Pidge: You were at the hospital and I was desperate! I just found photos from our Japan trip last year though. You keep them all organized. It’s so cute, Daddy Shiro. Even have cute file names.
Hunk: *nudges Pidge* Oh oh oh! Like what?
Pidge: Keith looking so adorable while holding Pidge’s hand on their way to Tokyo Metropolitan Tower dot jpeg.
Lance: *laughs* Oh my god!
Keith: *eyes Shiro* That was very descriptive. *smug*
Shiro: *gapes* *shakes head* Alright. Enough about this. We’ll go back to your crimes later because we need to discuss something more important.

So they began discussing it and it’s so awkward and the teens just had their jaws dropped like “Oh my god I can’t believe our dads are having this talk with us” They were just so quiet while Shiro and Keith began explaining.

Keith: And Pidge, if ever there’s like um, blood—
Pidge: Blood? Why would—
Shiro: There’s this thing called menstruation and it’s supposed to happen to all the girls when they reach a certain age. What we’re trying to say is, if you see some blood in your underwear then you need to inform me or your Daddy Keith and we’ll tell you what to do. Don’t panic if it happens because it’s normal during puberty.
Pidge: *raises an eyebrow* *eyes widens* Now I’m scared for this blood.
Lance: That does sound scary though. *places hand on Pidge’s shoulder* RIP, Pidge. It was nice knowing you.
Keith: Which is why I have placed sanitary napkins in your bathroom cupboard. I don’t know if you’ve seen it but I bought them last week and placed it there–In case it happens, you will need those.
Shiro: I’m actually quite amazed you sound so calm, Keith.
Keith: She’s our child. Who else would teach her these things? *to Pidge* In case it happens when Daddy Shiro and I are not around, I’ll teach you later in your room, okay?
Pidge: *nods* Yeah, okay. Am I supposed to bring one around in case it happens when I’m in school?
Shiro: Yeah, best you should. And you might experience some pain.
Hunk: *gasp* PAIN?? *hugs Pidge* Oh, Pidge! You don’t deserve this! 
Pidge: I’m already starting to dislike this menstruation thing. D8<
Keith: *laughs* Don’t worry. All the females hate it, too.

It wasn’t a surprise to everyone except to Keith that Lance would be the very first one to bring a girl home. To. Eat. Dinner. With. The. Family. 

Keith: *whispers* HE BROUGHT A GIRL!!!
Shiro: *raises an eyebrow* He’s 17, Keith. It think that’s pretty normal. *chuckles* Well, not to the both of us since we’re–
Keith: *hisses* Not the point, Shirogane! I’m going to talk to her.
Shiro: Keith, you’re not even sure if they’re—

Keith: Hi, sweetheart. I’m Lance’s Dad. Do you mind walking with me in the gardens?
Girl: Yeah, sure! *smiles*
Keith: So, what are your intentions with my son?
Girl: *blinks* What?
Keith: Are you just friends? Are you his girlfriend or what?
Girl: Uh… *nervous* I may have a crush on him?
Keith: Ah, a crush. *nods* I see. That’s cute. 
Girl: *blushes* He is cute. I mean, Lance.
Keith: *nods impatiently* Of course, he’s cute. He’s my child. But you see, you might wanna reconsider some stuff here. 
Girl: Like what?
Keith: *grimace* Lance can’t date until he’s 30.
Lance: *from somewhere* DADDY KEEEEIIIITHHHHHH!!
Keith: *eyes still on the girl* Lance can’t date until he’s 50.

The one who had a rebel phase was… PIDGE. Lmao. Every article of clothing was black, everything was just black and Shiro was so worried about it.

Shiro: About Pidge… *helping Keith doing the laundry*
Keith: Relax. *folds another of Pidge’s black punk-rock band shirts* It’s a normal phase in life of a teenager.
Shiro: But Keith… she’s wearing eyeliner!! And goes around saying “This shirt is so black… like my heart.”
Keith: Need I remind you of your phase way back then in high school? 
Shiro: *cringes* 
Keith: *chuckles* Exactly. Let her find out what she wants. Besides, *shows Shiro Pidge’s MCR shirt* My Chemical Romance is REALLY good. Have to hand it to her. She has taste. I’ll have to tell her that if she’s going to watch one of their concerts, I’m going with her.
Shiro: *scandalized* You’d join her?!
Keith: *shrugs* They’re a great band. Plus, bonding with the kids, Shiro. Know what they love and understand it.  She’ll grow out of it. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?
Shiro: *places hand on his temple* I’m having war flashbacks.

AHHAHHAHAHA I’m sorry if this was a bit detailed but omg Shiro and Keith handling teenagers is a bit amusing to me. :))))

“i actually kissed you” ;o

based on this specific event (ahem - https://youtu.be/YbVXiiORnVo?t=3m57s) - sorry if it’s…a little sad and dramatic? it’s the vibe i got, with the way josh moved away when ty tried to kiss him, and ty made these connections (love=fear, heartbreak=josh) so i just ran with it. did anyone else get these impressions? Anyway…here’s a story with a flashback of them acting like total frat boys 

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“dude, what do you think our fans would do if they knew we actually like..made out once?” tyler asked josh, winking playfully at him. 

“we did?” josh asked, brows raised slightly and biting his lip. 

these conversations hardly came up between the two, but they were usually brought up by moments like these. they were both heavily attracted to one another from the start, but held back because of upbringings and family pressures. tyler’s family expected him to hit certain milestones by certain ages, so when he found a girl and got married, josh’s heart was broken and all explorations stopped. they remained best friends, obviously, and josh learned to love jenna for completing his friend, plus she was super nice, so he respected her relationship’s boundaries by closing himself off to all advances from tyler. he suppressed all memories with him of that nature, and moved on to dating girls and living the lifestyle of a single guy. 

tyler understood josh’s reasoning, but was a bit hurt because jenna said she didn’t mind sharing if that made him happy. josh didn’t feel right taking advantage of jenna’s selflessness. it would be different if he and jenna also liked each other in “that way” and tyler shared, completing the triangle, but they didn’t. besides, it was hard enough being in love with his best friend/band mate who was literally written on his body permanently. tyler would never admit it, but he was secretly jealous about josh dating other people, which was silly considering he had a wife. he idealized one day josh having a wife that jenna would fall in love with, then it’d be fair if tyler and josh had that kind of relationship and no one would be the 3rd wheel. jenna showed no signs of bisexuality, but honestly tyler didn’t consider himself bi until josh. 

“you had a bit too much to drink, it’s probably why you don’t remember.” tyler said. josh then had a flashback to what he was referring to. it was in those days where they were just starting out, touring in a van. those were particularly hard days for tyler. but thinking back, those were they best days ever for josh. he truly got to be there for tyler, and tyler clung to him like a lifeline. it was the first time josh felt so needed and got to be part of someone’s dream. 

*************** flashback******************

josh’s groin stirred at the memory tyler was referring to, bringing back the alcohol lust fueled make out from that night. they were a couple years over the legal drinking age, but both being brainwashed and watched harshly by parents, were late bloomers. so after doing a show, tyler had a tough time winding down. they sometimes got fast food, and sometimes stopped by gas stations to pick up “dinner” (cookies, chips, chocolate milk, redbull, etc). josh, being the slightly more rebellious one, decided it’d be fun to surprise tyler with something different. tyler already grabbed his essentials and ran out to the van where it was parked and mark was filling it up. josh went to the checkout with his stuff, and grabbed a 12 pack of beer. he proudly showed his i.d. and waltzed out of the store with a huge grin. 

“we’re gonna have fun tonight, ty!” josh sang.

“whaddya mean?” ty asked, pouting slightly. josh grabbed ty’s hand and handed him the 12 pack of beer, which was too heavy. ty promptly had to set it down, cackling like an idiot. 

“JOSH. NO. BAD.” ty scolded jokingly. mark just shook his head, totally expecting this from josh, but not expecting tyler to actually drink the stuff. they loaded up, and tyler and josh sat in back while mark drove, blaring crappy hip hop music while drinking one after another. they didn’t care it was illegal to have open containers of alcohol, as long as they didn’t get caught. it got boring driving cross state and sleeping in walmart parking lots. 

“oh shit i love this song” tyler blurted, feeling very loose and kind of funny. he moved his hips a certain way that when josh noticed, he shoved tyler, laughing.

“you’re so weird, oh my god, tyler” josh said. but he started doing the same thing though, rocking his hips in a dirty way to the music. tyler felt flushed all over, and rolled over on top of josh straddling his hips. he was still laughing, goofy acting from the alcohol. josh was the same way, a little voice in the back of his mind telling him it wasn’t a good idea, but ignored it in favor of having no inhibitions whatsoever. it all felt so natural. he relaxed and let tyler grind against the front of his jeans, blaring music covering the sound of their moans and heavy breathing. mark continued driving them down the highway, blissfully ignorant to his gay acting friends in the back. tyler wasn’t laughing anymore, his mouth was open and eyes closed as he worked his hips languidly to the rhythm. josh would’ve laughed and made a joke about him drooling if it weren’t so hot, and he weren’t literally making him harder than a rock. tyler felt and massaged josh’s pecs as if he were touching a girl, and josh bucked his hips up, causing tyler’s uncoordinated muscles to give in and he fell forward. josh grabbed his hips, stabilizing him and rutting desperately for more friction. tyler kissed josh’s neck feverishly, rooting for his lips and running his tongue over his mouth. josh squeezed his hips as tyler continued kissing him aggressively while rubbing their cocks together hard. josh squeezed tyler’s ass, pulling him hard against him as he released his seed, making a huge mess in the front of his briefs. tyler felt a wetness and went fast a few times until he let go as well, then collapsed on top of josh. josh was breathless and tyler was a giggling, tearful mess. 

josh continued holding him close, running his hands up and down tyler’s back soothingly, until it felt like tyler was breathing kind of erratically. almost as if he were hyperventilating or hiccuping or something. josh felt a wetness on his collar, then realized that tyler was crying. josh tapped tyler’s shoulder and lifted his face up to look into those wet, doe brown puddles. 

“what’s wrong?” josh asked. tyler wasn’t sure himself, but he felt so happy. like a huge weight had been lifted from him. tyler just shook his head, smiling, and kissed josh on the lips. 

“thank you” tyler simply said, and josh smiled back, nodding in amazement. from then on, they had a bond that no one could get between and trusted each other with their lives. that raw moment was just symbolic of that connection. 

*************end flashback************

“no, i actually think i remember what you’re talking about now. man, jenna’s a lucky woman” josh responded. 

anonymous asked:

This is going to sound like a terribly ridiculous question, but how does dating especially modern-day dating, work for girls and women in Islam? I tried to do my own research, but I ended up coming out more confused than when I first went in. I was under the impression that Muslim girls were not allowed to be alone with boys over a certain age, so I was interested to find out how that would work. Could you help me, please?

Muslims, at least the religiously committed ones, don’t really date and find the concept of dating a bit alien, whether they are a man or a woman.

Instead, the pairs may meet up with the family of the potential bride and vice-versa and ask them for marriage, the consent of the father is required, but he can’t turn the proposer down, unless anything falls out of the fold of Islam, such as racism, culture, language barriers and etc. 

Although it can be seen as a halal form of dating, Shia Islam has a concept dating/marriage called a Temporary Marriage, otherwise known as “Nikkah Istimtah” or “Mu’tah” and its basically a form of marriage where both parts consensually decide a fixed term for how long they want to be “lawful” for each other, the period for the marriage depends on the pair and can range from 1 day to up to 100 years or more. Both partners can decide what to include and exclude in the marriage contract, for example, a marriage without sexual intimacy. When the marriage reaches the end of its terms, the couples separate but do not divorce (the become unlawful for each until they decide to enter Nikah again). The purpose of Mu'tah varies; some enter Mut’ah to avoid falling into adultery, while some simply enter Mut’ah to “date” their partner as a testing period. Shia Muslims can enter a Mut’ah marriage with any other Muslim (whether Shia, Sunni or Ibadhi) and with the People of the Book (Christians and Jews). Entering a Mu'tah marriage is a relatively simple process as opposed to Permanent/Conventional marriage. The guardian’s consent is also required and a dowry must be given to the bride before the consumption of such a marriage.

the thing about girl groups that pisses me off is that once they get to a certain age and they have to sell a different type of sex they are no longer seen as valuable and cast aside. Despite coming out with some of the best music out there! Like yes, they are older and look more like women when it would actually be appropriate for them to be marketed as sexy is they are ok with that. And let’s face it, despite how some girl group members are underage, many of their labels are still catering to sex in some ways that may be more subtle and to an older, creepier audience.  

2

Request: “Sorryyy can I make a request? The reader is a little girl (8, 9 years maybe) and she meets Dean while he and Sam are on a hunt involving her and her family, and she has a crush on Dean (a 9 years old girl type of crush) and she tells him that when she grows up she’s going to marry him and stuff like that? Pleeeease?”

Warnings: Kid! Reader

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“(Y/n), put your toys away, we have company.” Your mother scolded, trying her best to tidy up the house with every step she took. Begrudgingly, you dragged your stuffed animals back to your room before rushing back to see who was so important that you had to put away your favorite teddy bear. “Thank you so much for coming, really. It’s just been so hard to deal with.. with-” Your mother stopped when she saw you standing in the doorway. She sighed. “This is my daughter, (Y/n). (Y/n), do you remember John Winchester? Mommy’s old friend?” Your mom asked and you nodded your head. How could you forget? That man was weird. “These are his sons; Sam and Dean.” She gestured to the two men and you couldn’t help but stare.

“Hi, Dean.” You smiled, sitting on the couch beside him. He smiled back awkwardly.

“What have you noticed around the house, (Y/n)?” Sam questioned you, but you were too busy admiring the man who sat by your side.

“(Y/n).” Your mother scolded you once again, snapping you out of your daydream. “Tell Sam and Dean what’s been happening.” She looked at your sternly and you made a small face before turning back to the boys.

“There’s things in our house.” You said simply. “They throw my toys, push Mommy around, and they even pulled my hair once.” You frowned at the memory, but you were seemingly unfazed by it all.

“Really? And what do you do when they do these things?” Dean asked.

“I tell them to screw off.” You shrugged since that was a normal thing for you to say to ghosts and people alike. Your mother groaned to herself and Dean chuckled, making you grin.

“Can you show us where you last saw the things?” Sam suggested and you nodded your head, leading the two Winchester boys up the stairs and to your bedroom. Your toys were placed neatly on your bed and you rolled your eyes.

“I threw my toys in the floor, but they don’t like messes. They cleaned it up.” You grumbled, taking your teddy bear from your bed and throwing it back on the floor. “It’s my room. I can put my toys where I want.” You muttered. “They’re in here, I guess.” You sat down on the bed and watched as Sam and Dean started to look around.

“Sam, look.” Dean said in a surprised tone. You raised your brows, following his line of vision. He was looking at the salt line on your floor. “How did you know to do this?” He questioned you.

“I’m nine. I’m not stupid.” You replied with a small smirk. “John taught me a few things when he would come to visit.”

“You’re a smart girl.” Sam commented, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Very.” You batted your lashes at Dean. “Do you like smart girls, Dean?” You couldn’t help but ask and you watched him look to his brother for assistance.

“I-uh- I like smart girls when they’re at a certain age.” He cleared his throat as Sam laughed at him.

“I’ll be at a certain age someday, Dean. Then, I’m going to marry you.”

Dean nearly choked at your declaration and Sam’s laughs carried throughout the house.

Beautiful Children (Adlock)

The Meeting, Part 1: First Impressions

A/N: Adlock teenlock AU, Please let me know what you think, because I’m not even sure if I should continue this… definitely gonna be NSFW from Part 2 on. Thanks to @randombiochemist @equusgirl and @elinorx for their help on this! More under the cut.

____________________

Bored.

Dear God, he was bored out of his skull.

Not for the first time, Sherlock Holmes wondered why the south of France was such a popular tourist destination when there was nothing to do but allow oneself to bake in the sun or swim in the ocean. 

And since he had disliked the beach since his childhood days, and his own complexion was not naturally inclined to increased production of melatonin, except for the occasional freckle here or there – not to mention the fact that he found no pleasure in watching the vacuous, bikini-clad teenage girls lying aimlessly on the beach, unlike his peers who rejoiced and stared hungrily at the amount of skin exposed – Sherlock found himself utterly bored and sitting on a bench at the town square.

Why had he allowed himself to be dragged by his parents to this place for the summer? Mycroft, the lucky bastard, had managed to evade their mother’s unrelenting persuasion, which ranged from cajoling to encouraging guilt to a stern ultimatum that Sherlock could never say no to.

A few more months and he would be eighteen: out of the house and out of range of the daily, well-intentioned parental manipulation. Dear God, it seemed interminable…

Beside him, a fountain bubbled merrily – designed in 1843, according to the bronze plaque at the base, which Sherlock deemed quite unnecessary, as the date could be easily deduced by the fountain’s design – and Christ, he must really be bored if he had resorted to deducing something so mundane and unimportant.

With a small sigh, he turned to watch the passersby. Not that the people around him were any more remarkable than the redundant plaque, but he would concede that they were slightly more stimulating.

There were some tourists consulting a map beside the fountain a little to his right – American, from somewhere in the south, judging by the accent, Texas, probably, somewhere near the Panhandle. There was the florist, arranging her wares at the shop window – clearly having an affair with the baker, whose pregnant wife was currently siphoning funds from his till.

Boring. Boring! BORING!!!

Sherlock groaned out loud in frustration and ran his hand down his face. This must be what hell was like…

A flash of movement to his left caught his eye and he turned his head. The screech of tires heralded the arrival of a red convertible – brand-new, recently driven to Ménerbes, had already received two speeding tickets and one parking ticket in the two months since it had been purchased.

Sherlock had seen the boy at the wheel around the club several times, Stavros something – oil tycoon’s son, narcissistic underachiever spoiled by his mother, with at best an average IQ, full name too unimportant for him to remember. There was no need to deduce the make and model of the car, Stephanos (or whatever his name was) needed no prompting to announce it, along with its value, to anyone who would listen.

The girl sitting in the passenger seat, however, was a stranger. She had her back to him, but based on her build, Sherlock guessed she was around his age, probably a year or so younger.

She was paler than most of the tanned teenage girls parading in the streets, though there was a light scattering of freckles over her bare arms – which, combined with the fact that he didn’t recognize her, told him that she was a new arrival.

He cocked his head, watching with a mild increase in interest as the unknown girl reached over, one hand on the narcissistic Greek’s lap and the other curling around the back of his neck. As Sherlock watched, the girl brought the other boy’s face closer and kissed him, slowly, languorously… all while her nimble fingers pulled his billfold from his pocket.

When the girl pulled away, the Greek boy’s mouth hung open, his dull eyes glassy. The girl laughed, a throaty delighted sound, and slid out of the passenger seat, leaving Santos-whatshisname slack-jawed behind her. Both he and Sherlock watched her walk away without looking back, the stolen wallet now securely hidden in her tiny zippered purse.

The convertible pulled off – rather hesitantly, Sherlock thought – and the girl walked over to the low wall a few feet away from the fountain. 

Her pace was casual, unhurried, and she showed no signs of nervousness or tension that accompanied criminal activity. No signs of the gratification or relief that followed kleptomania either. If Sherlock hadn’t seen her nick that billfold, he wouldn’t have known it from her behaviour.

He sat up a little straighter on his seat and watched the girl with considerably more interest. He had to admit, she was more stimulating than the tourists or the adulterous baker.

The girl stopped at the wall and hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on top of it. The wall was low enough that her dangling feet still skimmed the ground. She was tiny – around 5′3″ to his full six feet – but the short white sundress she wore made her slender legs seem longer as she stretched them out over the wall, giving the illusion that she was taller than her actual height.

She turned slightly and he finally got a full view of her face. She was younger than he had earlier deduced, probably closer to sixteen than seventeen. He supposed her face was aesthetically pleasing – beautiful, even. But beauty was a social construct, and he liked to think he was above such matters. 

She had an aristocratic face with sharp bone structure, but her youth gave her face a certain softness that made it look almost delicate. She wore little makeup, unlike most of the girls her age in town. 

But what caught Sherlock was her eyes… An unusual shade that shifted between grey, green and blue along with the sunlight, their gaze was somnolent and heavy-lidded in the midday sun, but the more he looked, the more he saw that there was an intelligence there, an awareness that was lacking in the vacant eyes of the mundane people around him.

He didn’t recognize the exact minute that awareness was turned on him, but he realized that she had noticed him noticing her when one corner of her lips lifted into a small smile, and she flipped her long, dark hair behind her shoulder.

He knew she was preening, in the way most teenage girls do when trying to attract boys his age, but with this girl, there was a certain masterful subtlety, a languid confidence that replaced the usual teenage girl’s eagerness for attention. It wasn’t so much preening, as it was accepting attention and interest as her due.

And she was waiting for something, or someone…

Keep reading

It’s not enough to just be okay with your son choosing pink toys, you have to actively teach them from a young age that boys and girls can choose whatever colour they desire. By a certain age children don’t have that much freedom (as you think) to make the decision that’s true to them because it doesn’t take long for the socialisation and media-brainwashing to kick in. If you’re truly accepting of your children being gender non-conforming then educate them (and everyone you know) on being gender critical.