how do they expect me to live

violet-kitty67  asked:

I know this is a day of mourning for you, so I'm not sure if this is inappropriate for me to ask this of you, if it is just say so, or ignore this, whatever you're comfortable with, then I won't bother you again. But I'm going to a thanksgiving dinner filled with many people ignorant of the true history. Are there any ways for me to inform the people there? Should I wear black in respect of the natives who lost their lives, and are still being oppressed?

Yes, this is okay to ask. Part of being an ally is educating yourself and your own people, so this is something I expect of true allies. How you go about doing that is up to you. You can bring it up in conversation, you can show them one of the many short videos that have been made about it.

Just make sure you actually know the facts to back up your information. Warning: this conversation will most likely lead to debate. Your facts show you know what you’re talking about. Those who are ignorant will go off the whitewashed history they learned in school. They’re not going to want to be told that they are actually ignorant on the subject. They may even dismiss this information as if it doesn’t matter. If you’ve been paying attention to native activists, you probably already know how these usually go.

There is no need to wear black, that tradition is not apart of native cultures. If you want to show respect then continue to listen and educate. Raise our voices up and support your local native communities.

Poor Person: I need food stamps so I don’t starve.

Conservative: That’s lazy. Get a job.

Poor Person: Fine. I got a job, but it doesn’t pay enough. The minimum wage needs to be raised.

Conservative: Still lazy. Go to college so you can get a better job.

Poor Person: Fine. But I’ll need financial assistance to afford college.

Conservative: Still lazy.

Poor Person: Fine. I went to college, put myself in debt, and got a degree. But the only jobs I can get without experience are unpaid internships. Businesses should be required to pay their interns.

Conservative:

Conservative: Still lazy.

Poor Person: How the hell do you expect me to get out of debt?

Conservative: It’s your own fault. You choose to go to college even though you couldn’t afford it.

Poor Person: But you’re the one who keeps telling poor people to go to college. Are you saying that I’m lazy if I don’t go to college, and lazy if I do?

Conservative: Yes.

Poor Person: Then what the hell should I do?

Conservative: Be born rich.

;settle down (m)

pairing— min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi
genre/warnings— smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers
words— 14,930

:: summary— An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…

note— this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

Keep reading

i’m living for the small things. the way that fall smells. finding leaves that shift color beautifully. tiny pumpkins. i’m living for the way sweet tea tastes and the reactions people have when they see how much sugar i put in it. i’m learning to love myself not for my freckles or thick thighs but because i once helped save baby ducklings. because i stopped to ask if i could help the girl who was crying. i’m living with less expectations that me or my life can be a movie. somehow that makes everything romantic. i expect less from the good things, worry less about the bad. i know maybe i’ll never feel happiness the way those do without mental illness. but i’m feeling good. or better, at least, relatively. and isn’t happiness all about relativity?

  • someone: you were pretty good at that thing, why'd you stop doing it?
  • me internally: I get extremely anxious when I think about doing something I might possibly succeed at because I base my self-worth on my achievements and other people's approval, I am afraid because I know I will never be able to live up to my own unrealistic expectations, I hate making mistakes because they make me feel worthless, I take negative feedback too personally, I feel immense guilt over not doing things that I've been avoiding which just makes me avoid them more, I feel ashamed and inadequate due to how difficult it is for me to stay committed to anything, I'm worried that I'll just end up disappointing myself and the entire world, and I am convinced that if I failed I would literally die.
  • me externally: idk i guess i've just been kinda busy lol

What Falsettos does a good job of portraying: 

- Religion 

- Gay men and women in the 80′s

- The AIDS epidemic and how it ruined the lives of many families and gay men 

- Dysfunctional families finding comfort within themselves and their crazy family 

- Families in general 

What Falsettos doesn’t do a good job of portraying: 

- Whizzer’s loves for fashion 

- He spends the whole first act wearing the same clothes 

- And you expect me to think he is a “fashion icon” or whatever 

Arranged Marriage Starters

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

“I’m not going through with this and you can’t make me.”

“Look, I’m not any happier about this than you are, but why don’t we try and make this work.”

“We don’t have to be in love, but maybe we could be friends.”

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting someone who looked like you do.”

“Arranged marriages are weird. All your life you’re told not to talk to strangers and then you’re asked to sleep with one.”

“I can sleep on the couch if you prefer.”

“How am I supposed to live with them when I love someone else?”

“You’re making me marry THEM?”

“Don’t you touch me.”

“It’s my parents. They’ve arranged me to marry someone else.”

“So how much was my life worth to you?”

“Uh… I know we don’t really have a choice, but will you marry me?”

“Why don’t we go pick out a ring together?”

“This doesn’t have to be forever. If it doesn’t work out we can always get a divorce.”

“Listen, my parents paid for you. You’re my property now.”

“Let’s start simple. What’s your favorite color?”

“The only reason I need you is make sure that my bloodline has an heir.”

“I will never love you.”

Mirror, Mirror (Tom Holland Smut)

request: nah i woke up and this concept popped into my head bc i’m 4ever alone + occasionally sexually frustrated bc of thomas stanley holland

short summary: tom makes sure u know how to take care of yourself while he’s away if u get my drift ;)

length: 1.8k words

warnings: this is smut. lol. slight daddy kink. a bit of choking.

A/N: this is my first time writing smut let’s hope all the times i’ve read smut have prepared me for this moment. amen. lol i half proof read this don’t come at me (also just got a new macbook yesterday so i’m christening it by writing smut LOL)


“I don’t want you to leave Tom,” you pouted. He would be leaving for Montreal in the morning to start shooting for Chaos Walking. Even though you were a major fan of the books and their author, Patrick Ness, you weren’t ecstatic at the prospect of your boyfriend leaving you for such a long period of time. 

“You know I have to,” he replied with a sigh as he cuddled you tighter. The two of you had opted to spend the night in watching movies and soaking up each other’s presence for one more night. “But we don’t have to worry about that until the morning.” You simply hummed against his chest in response. 

“But what am I going to do without you? Who will take care of me?” you mumbled with a frown. You knew you sounded clingy, but at the same time you didn’t really care. You wanted him to stay. Tom pulled away from you slightly so he could look you straight in the eye.

“I’ll always take care of you, darling. You know that,” he said with a serious expression. Of course you knew that mentally, but physically he couldn’t if he was all the way in Canada. He didn’t seem to understand, so you decided to show him.

Getting up and straddling Tom’s sitting form, it was your turn to look him straight in the eye. His hands instinctively went to hold your hips. Slowly grinding yourself down on him, your boyfriend’s eyes began to darken slightly with lust.

“You can’t take care of me like this, though, babe,” you whispered next to his ear as you dragged your hips excruciatingly slowly over his growing erection. Starting to leave a line of light kisses down his jawline, he stops you.

“Then why don’t I show you what to do while I’m gone, then?” he challenged, lightly stroking your slightly arched back.

“Alright then Holland, show me how it’s done,” you replied with a smirk. The second the word “done” left you lips, he threw you over his shoulder, taking you from the living room into the bedroom. Instead of dropping your body on the bed like you expected, he set you down in front of the full length mirror next to your closet. Oh.

Sitting behind you, Tom situated you so you were sat in between his legs. Taking a look into the mirror, you almost laughed at your appearance. You were clad in one of his t-shirts, a random pair of blue panties, and your favorite green fuzzy socks. Tom was sporting a pair of gray sweats and nothing else. Wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, he rested his chin on your head.

“Don’t worry princess, daddy will make sure you’re all taken care of,” he purred softly. You shivered in anticipation as he moved his chin from your head to your shoulder, looking at each of your reflections in the mirror. “Does that sound good?” you merely nodded your head, but he gave you a brief slap on the thigh.

“Use your words, darling,” Tom reprimanded with a shake of his head. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered. He smiled and softly stroked the area of your thigh he’d smacked.

“Why don’t we get this off then, hm? Don’t take your eyes off of the mirror,” he requested, tugging on the shirt adorning your body. You slowly lifted your arms, and Tom tugged it off of you, both of you watching his actions in the mirror with eager, lustful expressions. 

“My beautiful girl,” Tom said breathlessly as he drank in your appearance. You’d forgotten that you ditched your bra earlier in the day and instinctively raised your arms to cover your breasts.

Tom frowned and halted your actions. “You truly are the most beautiful angel, you know?” he then gave u a brief kiss on the cheek as you blushed.

His hands started to travel south at an agonizingly slow pace starting at your chest as every sense in your body seemed to sharpen and electrify. The fact that he was making you watch seemed to awaken something inside of you. You could feel your panties dampening and he hadn’t even reached down there yet. A small whimper made its way out of your throat.

“Please, baby,” you whispered. Tom merely shushed you.

“All in due time, princess, all in due time.” Moments later, he had one hand between your legs, with his opposite arm wrapped around your waist protectively. 

“Do you ever touch yourself, thinking of me, while I’m gone?” he questioned, the hand in between your legs stroking you inches away from where you needed him most.

“No, daddy,” you replied honestly. You always thought about trying it, but never felt it would be as satisfactory as when your boyfriend was there to do it for you. 

“Hmm, while that’s the answer I love to hear, we’re going to have to change that aren’t we? I don’t want you to suffer too much while I’m away.” He started to leave a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your throat while still avoiding plunging his glorious fingers into your pussy.

Just as you were about to beg, his pushed aside your panties, too impatient to take them off, and began to viciously pump a finger, in and out. You couldn’t help the moan that pierced the air from your throat.

“More, Tom, I need more,” you moaned as your hips kept squirming and bucking up. His arm kept you from moving too far.

“I can’t give you more unless you keep still, darling,” he said with a slight laugh. It took everything in you to keep yourself from thrashing wildly to do as he said. You could feel his thumb resting on your clit and you desperately wanted him to do something, anything, to add to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Wrap your hand around my throat,” you said suddenly, surprising both him and yourself. Unsure of where that idea had come from, you strangely didn’t regret it. The more and more you thought about it, the more and more you wanted Tom do it. He, on the other hand, seemed unsure.

“Are you sure?” he said hesitantly, seeming to break out of the trance he was in. He stopped all movements to look at you directly through the mirror. But you nodded.

“Like…nothing crazy, but yeah. I really want you to.” you replied confidently. “I’ll just scratch your arm or something if it’s too much.”

After a few more seconds of deliberation, he removed the arm he had wrapped around your waist, raised it, and carefully wrapped his hand around your throat. 

“Like this?” he asked, slightly weary. But you were just fine.

“Actually…just a little tighter,” you said quietly. He did as you asked, taking care not to completely block your airways. And you loved it.

“Perfect,” you sighed in content. He plunged back into your pussy, this time adding a second finger. With the added pleasure of him slightly choking you mixed with the delicious sounds of his fingers entering your pussy at a rapid pace, you felt yourself clenching.

After a few short minutes of bliss, Tom promptly removed his fingers, sneaking them to his mouth for a quick taste. You whined in protest, but he grabbed one of your hands, taking a two fingers and sliding them where his hands used to occupy. Guiding your movements, he began to help you get yourself off.

“Just like this,” he rasped as he guided your two fingers in and out. As soon as he helped you set a rhythm, he guided your thumb to rest on your clit, rubbing gentle circles. He then removed his own hand from the equation, instead fondling your breasts as you fingered yourself.

You spared a moment to glance in the mirror. Your cheeks were red and your eyes looked to be glazed over in pleasure. You watched as Tom squeezed and pinched at your nipples, his other hand still wrapped securely around your throat, letting out a borderline pornographic moan at the multitude of events occurring.

“See, darling, it’s not so hard. You know you love it,” he said with a smirk, trailing a line of kisses from the back of your neck to your shoulder blades. It was all too much, you felt like everything was too much. But you didn’t want any of it to stop, quite the contrary you wished it would never end.

“T-Tom, I-I’m really close,” you barely got out. “Can I cum? Please?” you always had to ask him before you came, one of his rules.

“I don’t know darling,” he said as he gave you a once over. He could see you were on the verge of truly being wrecked. He smiled, loving the fact that you could bring yourself to unravel like this. 

Not being able to deny you for much longer, he finally gave the permission you craved. “Go ahead princess, cum all over your pretty fingers for me. Watch yourself come undone by your own fingers,” he commanded as he forced your head upwards to look in the mirror.

The sight of yourself and your boyfriend behind you brought you to your orgasm, one of the deepest and most intense ones you’ve felt in a while. You couldn’t manage to keep your eyes open the whole time, but you kept working your fingers and rubbing furiously at your clit as Tom nipped at your skin.

The world seemed to come crashing down as your legs shook almost violently. Moans of Tom’s name and a colorful variety of curse words fell from your lips until your throat ached for air and a deep rest.

Tom replaced your fingers with his own as you came down from your high. Finally taking a moment to close your eyes and lean your head back into his shoulder to rest, you almost felt a bit embarrassed. You had like that a lot, and hadn’t known that you could make yourself feel that good. But you didn’t know if Tom was into choking like that.

When your breathing returned to normal and your orgasm was spent, he slowly removed his fingers from your pussy. Bringing them up to your mouth, he tapped your lips.

“Want a taste, princess?” he asked innocently. You nodded, opening your mouth, sucking his fingers dry while looking him dead in the eye. You could feel his throbbing erection against your back and smirked, releasing his fingers from your mouth with an audible pop. He groaned loudly.

Picking yourself up from the carpet and readjusting your panties, you bent over in front of his face to pick up your previously discarded shirt. Through the mirror you could see him ogling your ass, just as you anticipated. He was putty in your hands.

“Well I think I need a shower,” you said with a mischievous smile. “Would you care to join me?” Tom stumbled to his feet, his erection clearly showing in his sweats.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said quickly as he practically dragged to the shower and fucked you senseless.


please give me feedback was this good was this shitty how can i improve i would love to know! my first smut attempt so…sorry LOL. but hopefully will improve as i write more. also if y’all have any requests lmk :)

4

YOI Future!Verse ABO AU, Visual Headcanon Web Charts #01

So I always wanted to make one of these. Turns out my headcanons for the most part are WAY too wordy for these things and uh, they’re a bit of a mess >.>;; BUT I hope nonetheless that they’re somewhat fun to read even if barely legible, it was fun to make ^ ^;

1. Super basic relationship chart of the core members of the lovely poly family in this AU.

2. “Adults Think,” the color of each adult indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

3. “Kids Think,” the color of each OC kid indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

There’s obviously a lot more to it than what could be crammed in the lil text boxes, but a gist and pretty much the first things that immediately popped into my mind regarding their interactions. 2 and 3 also mostly show their thoughts while the kids are younger, which will change a bit as they grow up, to be covered in a future post.

*Recommended you right click view image to see full size bc the text is tiny oops

Because the text is so illegible, text only versions of charts 2 and 3 beneath cut, all elaborated quite a bit because I’m so rambly oops:

~~

IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

~~

Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

~~

Keep reading

okay nope, after that post, it’s time to go off some more.

as a parent, you have no right to announce your child’s disability to everyone. the only time you should mention their disability is when it is medically necessary. you need to stop and think about how this is going to affect your child before you do something like that.

growing up, every time my mother introduced me to someone, she’d say “this is my child who goes to the school for the blind” right after telling them my name. it was as if the most important thing about me was that I am disabled.

“but they don’t let it hold them back!” she’d say. yes, because I just live to be some abled person’s inspiration porn. I don’t let it hold me back from what? doing my schoolwork? joining a club? normal things that you would expect the average abled person to do?

it shows, when you tell everyone about your disabled child all the time, what you really think of people with disabilities. maybe it’s showing you see us as lesser. maybe it’s showing you think we can’t do anything on our own. maybe it’s showing you think we’re a burden. it never seems to be showing something good.

disclosing someone’s disability should be the disabled person’s decision. there are countless reasons why we wouldn’t want to disclose our disabilities to just anyone. oh, you don’t think it’s that big a deal? well, here’s a bit of it, then:

  • we don’t want anyone’s pity. we’re not “inspiring” for living our daily lives.
  • maybe we don’t want to disclose our disabilities because that person may have been offering a job to us. maybe we don’t want our application thrown out on the basis that we “can’t do it because we’re disabled”. we know when to discuss our disabilities with our employers.
  • maybe it’s that we don’t want everyone at school knowing. not every kid is your friend, and things can get a whole lot worse if they’re ableist.
  • maybe we don’t want to disclose it because of how ableist people are. haven’t you ever seen a parent pull their child away from an autistic child or refuse to vaccinate their child because they don’t want that child to “catch the autism”? well, I have.
  • have you ever had to take the “short bus”? no? well, I have. it’s an announcement to everyone that you’re disabled. to the ableists out there, it’s an announcement of a perceived weakness they can exploit.
  • have you ever had people avoid you because of your disability? well you’re abled, so I guess not. you can bet your ass I have, though.


TL;DR: the world is full of ableist people. you as a parent have no right to make that world even more difficult for your child by announcing their disability.

Mac Demarco asks
  • Ode to Viceroy: Are you a smoker?
  • My Kind of Woman: Whats your 'type'?
  • Still Together: How long is/was your longest relationship?
  • Salad Days: Would you describe yourself as an easy going person?
  • Blue Boy: Are you more of an internally anxious person or externally anxious person?
  • Goodbye Weekend: Do you feel you struggle to live up to your own expectations?
  • Chamber of Reflection: Do you like being alone?
  • A Heart like Hers: Do you think love changes a person?
  • Let my Baby Stay: Do you think long distance relationships work?
  • Passing out Pieces: Do you think you spread yourself too thin?
  • Without Me: Are you friendly with your exes?

punsbulletsandpointythings  asked:

Your myth retellings are gorgeous. Would you tell another please? Maybe something with Hermes?

Pandora is made from earth, shaped by the hands of Hephaestus and made in the image of his beloved wife. Aphrodite gifts her with grace and charisma. Athena teaches her to weave and bestows cleverness upon her.

She stands in front of Hermes, and the god frowns and touches her with a single fingertip on her chin, moving her head one way than the other. “They’ll eat you alive,” he says, and she doesn’t understand.

She tilts her head to the side and smiles a vacant smile. All of the cleverness in the world will do her no good without any context. “We are the same,” she says, pressing a hand to Hermes’s chest. She is made from earth and has the skin to mach. He is a celestial god, and his skin is the same rich shade of brown.

He did not ask to be born any more than his mother asked to bare him. His creation, just like hers, is at the whims of Zeus. All for some little lost fire, all because Prometheus wanted his people to be warm, and, well, he is the god of the thieves after all –

So he gifts her with deceit, with selfishness, with cunning. Her smile leaves her face all at once as she’s filled with self-awareness. “He’ll be angry with you,” she says, “I am not what you were supposed to make.”

“Gods have short memories,” he says, and doesn’t bother to hide the contempt in his voice. “Do not worry about me, gifted child. You have larger problems than my fate.”

He has turned her from something pure into – something more like him. Her face darkens even further as her perfectly crafted mind slots all the pieces together, and he can’t help but find her lovely. It’s how she was made, after all. “I can’t stop it, can I? Whatever they’re planning for me to do?”

“No,” Hermes says, “but now you might be able to survive it.”

“Will I want to?” she asks, and he doesn’t answer. She doesn’t expect him too.

~

She hides from everyone, lives in a cave at the edge of the city. The gods had called her the first woman, but that’s not true, she can see.

There are women. They smile and laugh have work roughened hands. She aches to join them, but she has the beauty of a goddess. They will know. If she joins them, they will know she is not of them, and it will set into motion whatever trap Zeus has planned.

She is not human, not in the same way, molded from clay by a god’s hands. But she is of humans, and not eager to bestow upon them the harm she’s destined to bring them. She bathes in streams where only nymphs reside, steals into the city in the cloak of night and pilfers from the baker’s trash.

“When they said they sent my brother a wife,” a low, amused voice says too close behind her one night, “I had not expected a begger.”

She whirls around, hard bread clenched tight in front of her, an incredibly inefficient shield. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees him, dark and tall and eyes like the night sky. He looks like Hermes. Like her. “Who are you?” she demands. They’re in an alley corner, and of her gifts flight is not among them. She’ll have to fight him to get away.

She’s not afraid of him. Maybe another mortal would be, cornered in the middle of the night by a man she doesn’t know. But she’s no normal mortal woman, and besides – he has something comforting about him, like the hearthfire attended by Hestia. Something warm.

“I am Prometheus,” says the man, and no wonder he reminds her of fire. “What do they call you?”

“You are meant to be in the deepest pits of Hades’s realm,” she snaps, and shifts her grip on the stale bread so that she can throw it at him. He’s the whole reason she’s here to begin with, him and his thievery.

He shrugs and walks closer to her, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. Good. Here, in this dark alley where no one would find a cooling body until morning, it is he that should be afraid. “Gods forget,” he says, “and Hades had grown cold in his place beneath the earth.”

She pauses, considers. “You stole fire for Hades?”

“No,” he corrects, “I stole fire for the people. But Hades benefited as well. Enough that he was willing to forget the terms of my punishment.”

“What do you want?” she asks for the second time. “Why are you here?”

He stops, too close to her, “The question is why are you here?”

She steps into his space now, following him as he backs away from her, “I am here because of you, fire-stealer, because gods may forget but they do not forgive, and I am the punishment they have unleashed upon the world.”

“What a punishment you are,” he says, looking at her lips, and she forgets to hate him only long enough to kiss him.

~

Hermes watches her, watches them. He doesn’t know Zeus’s plan, if this is part of it or not, but he watches her, and he worries. He thinks it is, he can see Aphrodite’s magic clinging to Pandora, but he doesn’t know why.

He would go to his mother, but she’s always difficult to find, Gaea preferring to live in streams and rivers rather than face the man she bore a son for. But his mother’s father, on the other hand, is always in the same place.

“Grandfather,” Hermes greets, touching lightly down onto the earth, “How are you?”

“How am I always, boy?” Atlas grunts out, legs and arms straining as he holds up the sky above the earth. “Tired.”

Hermes lips quirk up the corners. Some days, he thinks he’s more Atlas’s grandson than he’s Zeus’s son. “I need some advice, Grandfather.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

So Hermes tells him everything, from beginning to end, because he can’t figure out what his father’s plan is, but Atlas might. He’s known the man for longer, at least.

Atlas nods, slow, and says, “A bride of gods, a gifted child. I can think of only one reason to create such a child.” Hermes waits. Atlas sighs and says, “There is a jar, within Olympus, that becomes sealed when it leaves the realm of the gods. After that, only a being neither mortal nor celestial may open it.”

“What are they planning to put inside?” Hermes demands, heart spiking. What are they planning to unleash upon the unsuspecting earth?

His grandfather smirks, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is this – what are you going to put inside?”

Keep reading

Things I hate about each type!! based on multiple personal experience

ENFJ hate: Manipulative af. The word doesn’t revolve around you, and remember no one owes you anything. Addictive personalities. Beware people: Nice to everyone’s face. I’m extremely suspicious.

ENFP hate: Let me help you. Listen to me. All of you.

ENTJ hate: You have to be patient sometimes. “No” means “Stop trying to convince me and asking questions”. Cut down on the shit talking.

ENTP hate: Don’t be a sore loser. If you get something wrong, accept it. Open your mind to learning. Show some weakness, you’ll look more human.

ESFJ hate: Settle down, you move to fast. Stop pretending you don’t care what people think or say about you, it makes you look fake. You boast a bit much for someone so insecure.

ESFP hate: If someone expresses dislike towards something, you take it to heart somehow and link it to yourself. It’s not about you, it’s not your problem, and overthinking looks terrible on you. Too open about your personal life, it gets uncomfortable.

ESTJ hate: You can hold a pointless grudge for way to long, even on people you love and deeply car for. This will probably offend you but open your fucking mind. Other people’s input can be helpful. Your opinions aren’t law. Your opinions aren’t God. You are Inflexible.

ESTP hate: You do bad things for people you like and they don’t like it. Don’t expect people to praise you for bad things. You remind me of a kitten that brings dead animals into the house to show their owner they protect them, no matter how much the owner scolds them. Impulsive.

INFJ hate: You’re better than me. You care about others’ lives, but you always secretly think you have it worse.

INFP hate: Stop following people around. Always worships someone at any given time. Falls in way to deep. You are the most dependent independent people on the planet. Selfless.

INTJ hate: Stop thinking. Stop being so fake, it obviously tires you out. You think people are being so weak and stupid, but if you were in their shoes you’d want them to care for you. Stop exaggerating.

INTP hate: Tells everyone you can’t stand drama and gossip but you need it to be entertained because everyone bores you. You don’t follow through. Takes more than gives.

ISFJ hate: Whiny. Silently judges everyone. Overly sensitive. Should take more timeout for yourselves. You always guilt trip people.

ISFP hate: The most sensitive baby. You have no idea what to do with constructive criticism sometimes. You hold dumb little grudges. I know you hate sharing. Either a pushover, which is annoying, or incredibly stubborn, which is annoying.

ISTJ hate: Traditional. Sometimes your mind seems too unchangeable. The world isn’t against you, I promise. You have the power to make the world work in your favour. Stop following society’s rules and sense of hierarchy and rise up.

ISTP hate: Open up to people around you. You have too many regrets. You’re so stubborn.

written by an  INTJ female

what i love about each type here

okay, now that i got to read the full translation of the clip, i have to say that…i don’t agree with how this conversation went 

i don’t expect isak to say the perfect things. he still has a lot to learn, and he will never be able to fully understand sana’s experiences as a muslim woc living in norway. it was realistic for him to not say all the right things. and they both got to share their point of views, how they see the situation from their perspective. it was good thing to see them do that

the thing that bothers me, however, is that it sounded as though isak was the one educating sana on this matter, when it really should’ve been the other way around. because sana is the one who knows here. she’s the one who experiences the racism and the islamophobia, not him. once again, it was great for them to have this conversation, but we should’ve seen isak listen to sana, and be corrected by her, and not the opposite

Nightmare - Winchester Brothers

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a little while! School is just making me really busy. I’ll try and post once at least every two weeks. I’m sorry of I can’t :(

Anyway, here’s another request!

Okay so maybe something where the reader is jealous of how close Sam & Dean are, make it angsty 😹 - @winchesters-favorite-girl - i’ve kind of made my own twist on this! Hope you like it anyway!

Imagine always feeling as though you are nothing more then a burden and a blood relation to your brothers and feeling as though they don’t care for you so you leave them.

—————————————————————————————

Originally posted by teachercastiel

Originally posted by undercoverrockstarjensen

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel

You were sat in the back of the impala, picking dried blood out of your stubby finger nails, anger rumbling in your chest. You’d saved your brothers once again from a hunt gone wrong and they hadn’t thanked you, simply patted each other on the back, sent a glance over their shoulder to you to make sure you were still alive and headed in the direction of the car.

They were speaking (or arguing, you could never tell) about the monster ‘they’ had just killed and you had no interest in listening so you rested your head on the back of the seat and looked out to the starry night.

It had been this way since you’d dropped out of high school. You’d be with them, but not quite there. You’d always been left out the circle and you couldn’t remember the last time your elder brothers had shown gratitude and love towards you and quite frankly, you had had enough. 

Closing your eyes and drifting off into sleep, your mind travelled to a time when you were the centre of your brothers worlds.

***

You aged 5 and Sam aged 13:

Colouring in a unicorn in your activity book at the counter of the motel room kitchen, you reached for the purple crayon which was just out of your grip. Just as you were close to grabbing it, it rolled a little further away.  

Whining and attempting to lean forward, you suddenly felt the stall give way, sending you toppling to the ground. 

You cried out in pain as you hit your head on the marble floor. As your vision became faded and a headache made its self comfortable in your head, you saw Sam rushing towards you from the settee.

He quickly pulled you into his arms and cooed in your ear that everything would be ok and that there was nothing to worry about. He made it clear to you that you were a strong girl and that it was only a little graze. 

***

You aged 13 and Dean aged 25:

You were waiting on the bench just outside of your temporary school as the girls in front of you made fun of your second hand clothes. 

‘Look at that! What is it? A table cloth or a fourth hand blanket?’ The skinniest of them all said, pulling at your older brother Sam’s red flannel.

‘Don’t touch me.’ You growled, slapping her hand away.

‘What did you say, skank? Want me to hit you.’ The tallest of them all said, raising her hand at you.

As you were about to swerve the hand that was about to smack you, you froze as your biggest brother Dean tapped the girl on the shoulder.

She turned round, confusion and disgust on her face. ‘What do you want? Old man.’ She sneered at him. The other girls thought this was the funniest remark in the world.

Dean laughed for a second then looked at her dead in the eyes. ‘You touch my little sister again and i’ll break all your fingers. Oh, and by the way, that top is second hand. I’m pretty sure I saw a stripper with the clap wearing that a couple of nights ago.’ He gave his signature smirk at the end, hinting that the mob of mistakes (called teenage girls) should go away. 

They did, fear and despise all over their faces as they made remarks about each others clothes.

‘Thanks Dean.’ You said as you stood up and hugged him.

‘Anytime.’ He responded, protectively wrapping his arms around you.

***

Yeah sure, anytime. I guess that had a time limit. Waking up with the thought in your head, you noticed that you were sat in the back of the Impala, your two elder brothers no where in sight. 

As a feeling of hopelessness washed over you, you begged for Castiel to come and see you. He was the only one who seemed to care for you.

‘Hello Y/N.’ His gravelled voice spoke out from the seat next to you.

You didn’t respond straight away, you wanted to gather your thoughts first. You turned to look at him.

‘What’s wrong Y/N?’ He asked you, as you looked back at him, hurt in your eyes.

‘It’s my brothers. I’m nothing to them anymore.’ You explained, tears brimming in your eyes.

‘That’s not true. You’re their little sister.’ Cas responded, confusion lingering in his voice.

Was their little sister. I think i’m nothing more then a shadow to them now and I wont deal with it anymore. Please, Cas, make a promise to me.’ You pleaded.

‘What promise?’ He questioned you, eyebrows knotting together as he looked sad in his eyes.

‘That if I go, you wont help my brothers look for me. You’ll let me live my own life and I expect you to understand that if you break my trust I will never forgive you.’ With that, you took his hand in yours as a way to tell him how desperate you were. ‘Please.’

He pulled his hand slightly away from yours then paused. He let out a soft sigh then looked away for a second. ‘If I make this promise, you have to stay safe.’ He reasoned with you, looking in your direction and then away again so that he wouldn’t regret what he was about to do.

‘Yes, of course.’ You practically whispered back, knowing that you were inches away from freedom. 

‘Ok.’ That was all he said before he flapped his wings and disappeared.

This was your chance. This was your chance to begin again and be a person who didn’t live every day wondering if they were loved. You’d thought about this for weeks, months even. The moment you’d break free and find someone or something that had even the slightest amount of happiness towards you.

Jumping out the car and pulling your bag from the boot, you headed down the street the impala was parked on. You looked back for a moment, remembering your older brothers, then shook your head and continued down the path you chose to take. 

*Sam’s P.O.V*

‘You think she’ll like it?’ Dean asked, holding up a green flannel.

‘You know that’s not her colour.’ I responded, pushing the green flannel out of Dean’s arms before reaching up for a red checkered one on the highest shelf.

‘She’ll like this one though. She used to wear one like it when she was younger, like all the time.’ I said as I searched for her size.

Dean went quiet for a minute before looking at me.

‘Dude, no chick flick moments. What’s wrong?’ I questioned him, laughing a bit since he looked like a hurt puppy.

‘Is it just me or does Y/N seem really closed off lately.’ He depressingly said, gently stroking the flannel in his hands as if it was his little sister.

I was going to shrug my shoulders and dismiss the conversation but I didn’t. I knew that there was something very wrong with Y/N.

‘Yeah - I think there is.’ I responded, barely looking at Dean, feeling as though it was some how my fault.

As if Dean read my mind, he glanced briefly at me. ‘Do you think it’s our fault?’

I gulped then looked up. ‘I - I don’t know. Maybe. Have we done enough for her? I mean, have we been good brothers?’ 

‘If I’m being honest. No, I don’t think we have been. I think we’ve been so focused on these god damn hunting trips so much that we’ve lost the love we used to give to the centre of our world, Y/N. I think we need to look out for her more. Knowing her, she probably thinks that we don’t care about her and I can’t have that.’ Dean was almost shouting at the end, pulling at the seams of the shirt in his hands.

I simply looked back at him, wide eyed. He’d said exactly what I was thinking. 

‘Hell, what do I know.’ Dean grumbled, throwing the flannel on the shelf and heading to the doors of the shop. 

He froze mid-step then yelled my name, indicating that Y/N was no longer in the Impala.

It was though time slowed down. She was there, then she wasn’t. It was a nightmare come real.

—————————————————————————————-

I really like how this turned out and I’m tempted to a part 2! Tell me what you guys think :) 

Daddy Issues

Pairing: JungKook & Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: A top student, marks always high. College was not a dream for her…Except she didn’t have enough money. Her parents never earned much so they literally took care of themselves. Her boss acting as a dick towards her she quited her job. Even though she had no idea what she let herself into this was her only option.

Chapters - 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Keep reading

#cuddles #video games #candy

Prompts: @rosevioletlee
Author: @queenofthyme

“Did you get them?” Draco asked, without looking up. He hadn’t torn his head from the screen all day. Not since Harry had introduced him to “viddy” games, as Draco was calling them.

“Of course I got them. You asked me to get them. That’s the whole reason I -“ Harry paused, deciding the effort was pointless. Draco only had eyes for the computer screen. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Feed them into my mouth,” was Draco’s casual but demanding reply.

Harry snorted and dropped onto his bed behind Draco. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Harry!” Draco whined in his petulant spoiled way - that Harry found both endearing and incredibly irritating. “This is a live game. How do you expect me to pause a live game to eat sweets?”

“Actually,” Harry said, laying back and staring up at the ceiling - it’s not like Draco was looking at him anyway. “I thought you might finally stop playing since you’ve been at it for 14 hours straight.”

“I took a break.”

Harry stopped himself from snorting again. “And you made me keep playing for you the whole time.”

“Remind me not to do that again,” Draco said, critically - he was never one for tact. “You almost had me killed.”

“It doesn’t really matter if you die. You can just resp - “

“And lose all my gold?” Draco half-shouted at Harry’s computer screen. “And items? And stamina points? Are you kidding me?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re taking this a bit too seriously.”

“My whole life. Being taught muggles were inferior. And all the while, they had this! Unbelievable.”

Harry pulled himself up onto his elbows so he could look at Draco - although the back of his head wasn’t the greatest thing to have a conversation with. “Muggles can do a lot more than just create video - “

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Draco interrupted, sparing one hand from the keyboard to wave dismissively at Harry. “Sweets?”

Harry pulled out a package of treacle fudge from his pocket and watched Draco’s ears perk up at the sound. He let Draco wait a bit longer, opening the packet with a loud pop and dropping a piece into his mouth. Then: “No,” he half-enunciated through the mouthful of fudge.

“Harry, please. I’m hungry.”

“I wonder why that is,” Harry said sarcastically.

“So you would let me starve? Is the boy saviour not so interested in saving people anymore?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Draco’s dramatics could be frustrating but they were always entertaining. “Stop being ridiculous. When are you going to stop playing?”

“Never.”

Draco.”

“Five more minutes?” Draco asked, putting on his soft voice - the one that usually worked on Harry. The one that could get him whatever he wanted.

Problem was he’d used it already. “You said that hours ago.”

“I’m afraid I don’t recall,” Draco said, keeping his soft voice and sprinkling a bit of innocence on top.

Harry didn’t believe it for a second. “It’s late.”

Draco gave up on the voice. “I’m not tired.”

“I’ll let you be the little spoon,” Harry offered. Draco loved being the little spoon. So did Harry. But it was his best bargaining tool.

Sure enough, Draco’s head jerked around to face Harry, his eyes finally leaving the computer screen. Harry had his attention.

“But only if you stop now,” Harry clarified, pleased to have regained some power.

“Two minutes?” Draco asked, his head flicking between the screen and Harry’s, as he tried to keep playing.

“Now.”

“One minute?”

Harry shrugged, dropping back down to lie on the bed. “If you’re not interested…”

“I’m interested,” Draco said quickly. Harry heard the scraping off the desk chair and then Draco was falling into bed beside him, reaching for the treacle tart packet. He lifted it up and inspected the contents, disappointment clear on his face. “I thought you said you - “

“Here,” Harry said, pulling out another packet and handing over Draco’s favourite sweet - peppermint toads.

Draco’s face lit up instantly at the blue packet, grabbing hold and ripping it open immediately. The first toad in his mouth, soon to be followed by the rest of the packet clutched to his chest, Draco rolled over, his back to Harry.

“Well? “ He asked, expectedly, without giving Harry any time to react. “Are you going to spoon me or not?”

Harry laughed as he shuffled over to Draco and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. How he, Harry Potter, had ended up with Draco Malfoy, he still didn’t quite understand. But he was happy. They were happy. And Harry wouldn’t change a thing.

more like this l @queenofthyme

  • them: hey u should do this thing I think you'd be really good at it
  • me: I don't want to, sorry
  • them: *disappointed*
  • me, in my head: YOU FUCKED UP!!! YOU FUCKED UP!!!! YOU FUCKED UP!!!!!! YOU FUCKED UP!!!!!!!!! YOU FUCKED UP!!!
I am not a people’s person
I live on my own accord
I don’t really care about anybody else most of the time
But I get hurt when they don’t care about me
Half the time I don’t even realise that I hurt someone
And many times I do it on purpose
Expecting them to be okay with it
I expect them to come back to me
To be with me the way they have always been
Even after hurting them
I know it is selfish and I know I am selfish
But that is how I have always been
There is no changing me
—  What I mean when I say that I am not a nice person // JustScribbledWords
Quit my job at a bank and got my branch manager to resign.

So until August 16th of this year I was a teller at a local bank in my town. Our branch was small and rarely busy and I had 4 coworkers. There was my branch manager, my assistant branch manager, a personal banker / sometimes teller, another teller, and then me. Occasionally Brenda from marketing worked there. So we had very few customers coming in and we all just kinda sat around all day. All of us are females and so basically this place was Total Drama Fucking Island. But my branch manager, she was actually very cold and kind of an unpleasant and mean person.

Working in a bank is all about being super friendly to everyone all the time, and she was not. A lot of our customers straight up hated her, some would even close their accounts and go elsewhere because of the bank branch manager!! And she was not very pleasant to her employees. Before I arrived, she was so mean to two tellers that worked there that they both quit in the same week. She almost got fired and so by the time I started she had developed this weird fake nice / sweet personality but it just made you uncomfortable. She also put most of her work onto our assistant branch manager’s desk and didn’t know half of the information she should. So my ABM was basically running the entire branch, helping us out, doing twice the work (mortgages, HELOCS, other accts, etc.) and keeping the customers happy while the BM didn’t do jack shit. So everyone in the branch really had beef with the branch manager. And then she really went over the line and I fucked her day up.

Let me first say that my assistant branch manager has a very tough & stressful life. Her son is a heroin addict and all of her money goes to supporting him. She is a very sweet and caring person to other people but just gets shit on in life. She also did NOT make enough money at all for the work she was doing 40 hrs a week.

I had put my two weeks in so that I’d be done August 18th. Right after I did this we got news that my ABM was being demoted not only down to personal banker, but to HEAD TELLER. This is dropping back down to the bottom of the ladder basically. The reasoning was she did not submit her loan documents on time. What the upper level people made the decision, they couldn’t see how at the branch level the ABM was so overwhelmed by doing the BM’s responsibilities that she didn’t always have time to meet her own deadlines. The BM apologized profusely to the ABM and said it wasn’t her call, it was the higher ups, and that she tried to stop it from happening.

A few days after we found this out, the ABM personally spoke to the higher ups about it and they said that they didn’t write the write up, the BM did. That means after pushing all of her work onto the ABM and relying on her to keep the branch running, she tried to get her demoted that far down the ladder. We have no idea why, but all of us are aware of the ABM’s unfortunate life situation, and it was just such a cruel act.

So on August 16th, about a week after this happened, my branch manager was being unnecessarily bitchy to me and I basically said fuck this this is my last day I’m out. But at the end of the day, as we were closing, I quickly sent an e-mail to one of the higher ups in charge of this stuff. In the e-mail was a 3 page letter, basically an essay, thoroughly explaining all of the fucked up details about what was occurring at the branch level and how fucked up it was that the ABM was getting demoted. It did not make my branch manager look good, and I’m the fourth employee in the last year (basically all of them) to complain about her to HR. Where I work talking to HR is uncommon and serious. I sent it last minute so I didn’t have to stick around for anything that happened. My goal was to keep my assistant branch manager from being demoted.

I found out the next day that my branch manager immediately fucking RESIGNED. I quit on a Wednesday, Thursday morning she was cleaning out her office. She technically retired, she had the ability to but wanted to wait a couple more years so she could say she was the branch’s manager for 10 yrs. But HR read that letter and got rid of her THAT quickly. If she refused to resign she would have been fired. She has a high position, our bank only has like 9 branches and all the branch managers are considered assistant vice presidents. My letter dissing her literally immediately cost her her job.

It was kinda heavy at first to hear that because I wasn’t expecting to make THAT big of an impact and wasn’t sure how I felt about costing her her job. But she truly was a negative and cruel person that wasn’t deserving of her job for various reasons and I improved the lives of my coworkers whom I do care about sooo much.

I went into the bank that Friday and they were literally all thanking me and were so happy one even hugged me. I felt like a hero for a sec it was awesome. The bank even wanted me to come back and keep working but I dipped outta there. Still way to much girl drama for me.

Soooo yeah. I got my branch manager fired like that because of my sick essay writing skills and I got a real ego boost from it.

EDIT / UPDATE ON ABM: As of 8/30 she is “on probation.” Basically she is still working as the assistant branch manager but needs to be extra careful because she’s proving she is capable of doing her job to the higher ups. I guess things are looking positively though and no one is really worried. If they demoted her the branch would essentially have no one in charge so I think things will work out for her. :)