i could do it in my twenties

anonymous asked:

As an enfj in my early twenties, I can see my Se develop. I use it better by trying to realise my Ni visions. Also I can live more in the moment and go with the flow. Is this how Se develops? How can I tap into my inferior function now that my first three functions are well used? Ive read all ur guides. But I still can't figure out inf ti.

When Ni and Se are mature, Ti will start to click into place, so you are not there yet, and it’s not really reasonable to think you could be in your early twenties. You describe the very obvious ways Se develops as regurgitated straight from the guide, however, it is difficult to recognize the subtly negative aspects of the auxiliary and tertiary functions in yourself as an individual. Do you really understand all the ways that you can and do misuse Ni and Se? For instance, ENJs often don’t realize until too late how impatient or overeager they really are for results, unable to spot when they want too much, too fast, too soon, then getting disappointed (even your question is some evidence of this). In your early twenties, you are still somewhat naive in your hopes and dreams for the future, but reality will catch up with you later. I’m not saying this to be discouraging, I’m only saying that developing Ni and Se is not as easy as it seems at first glance, especially because Ni in particular requires a lot of learning and life experience to deepen and mature. The way you describe developing your functions is very superficial, just like following an instruction manual, do this this and that and then you’re golden, but that’s not how it works. You have to find your very own unique way of expressing functions with deeper and deeper levels of awareness, which will naturally lead you to Ti development, not just imitating what you read in a guide. The fact that you rely on someone else to explain to you how to do it and have no idea about it even after reading the guide is evidence that you’ve still got a long road to travel. Ti is about independently producing sound judgment and good problem solving strategies, therefore, if you really want to develop Se and Ti, you have to face the most negative/problematic aspects of yourself, you have to observe and work on yourself during the darkest and lowest times in your life, you have to open yourself up completely to changing whatever is wrong or not working with your thinking/judgment as you go through every moment in life. You have to live by facts, not your unsubstantiated gut feelings or wavering emotions. Life is not only rainbows and low Ti makes people want to avoid darkness in life and their own inner darkness, to the point of rationalizing/lying to oneself to feel better, therefore, to develop Ti means you have to go where you most fear. I suggest you leave it for now and keep working on Ni and Se, do things in the right order.

Since November, more than two dozen women - of all ages, but mostly in their twenties - had approached me in restaurants, theaters, and stores to apologize for not voting or for not doing more to help my campaign. I responded with forced smiles and tight nods. On one occasion, an older woman dragged her adult daughter over by the arm to come talk to me and ordered her to apologize for not voting - which she did, head bowed in contrition. I wanted to stare right in her eyes and say ‘You didn’t vote? How could you note vote?! You abdicated your responsibility as a citizen at the worst possible time! And now you want *me* to make *you* feel better?’ Of course I didn’t say any of that.
These people were looking for absolution that I just couldn’t give. We all have to live with the consequences of our decisions.

Hillary Rodham Clinton, “What Happened”

My First One Star Review on AirBnB

Story by shawk11/reddit

Buckle up boys and girls. My buddy and I just experienced some grade-A Creepyshit while on a trip to Red Rocks in Colorado. I write a lot of things down anyway and so I figured I might as well post the story here and see what you guys think.

So who here has used AirBnB? raises hand. I think I’ve used it no less than twenty times. All great experiences up until this point, seriously.

Keep reading

“ My aunt also had a girlfriend. Supposedly this aunt swore to me in my cradle that I would turn out like her. Even as a child I preferred pants and a boy’s haircut. I didn’t want to wear dresses and skirts. When I first started working at AOK, I had to run errands and get files from the basement. There was always a group of women in the basement sitting, singing, and dancing with each other; I’ve always loved to dance. Sometimes they had a bottle and we drank a bit. It was there that I saw Hilde Berghausen, and I thought to myself “Gee, you could fall for that Hilde!” But I still didn’t really know why. Hilde was older than me; I was fifteen and she was twenty or twenty-one. Once she invited me home with her; I went with her—brought a pounding heart and a bouquet from our garden with me. Her parents were on vacation. We were talking and she asked me if I had a girlfriend. “Of course. Herta, my friend from school.” “There are two kinds of girlfriends.” “What do you mean, two kinds? I really love Herta!”

[…] I started going to the clubs and got to know everything around 1931, when I was fifteen. Back then, before Hitler came to power, we had a lot of clubs. For example, at the Andreas Festival Theater on Andreas Street there was a ball once a month. Through the Magic Flute, I joined a lesbian bowling club, “The Funny Nine”, which was led by Lieschen and her girlfriend Gertrud. We went bowling once a week, and once a month we rented a really big room in a dance hall on Landsberger Street. It was really nice, young and old together, fifty- to sixty-year-olds, the rest around twenty, and I was always the youngest. Later, after 1933, the proprietors–they were Nazi supporters–they stopped renting to us. Lieschen, who was in her sixties then, said “Let’s just forget this club.” And so we just forgot about it. I also went to the Monocle Bar…I still remember a lot of women who frequented that club. But they closed the Monocle Bar in 1933.

[…] When I went back home after the Labor Service, my mother found out, since all my girlfriends had written to me. I had stolen chocolate and cigarettes—we had everything in the restaurant—and I sent all my sweethearts little packages and they wrote, “My dear little Johnny-mouse, thanks so much for the wonderful package. I’m lying on my bed smoking a cigarette from you and I think of you always. Oh, I wish you were still here with me!” When my mother saw all the letters she thought “Oh my goodness, that isn’t normal; there’s something not right here.” Every day four or five letters arrived.

[…After the official ban on homosexual clubs,] outside it always said “Private Party.” You had to ring a bell and she only let in people she wanted. In 1941 there was also a very nice club on Hoch Street… but that one closed suddenly too. Even during the Nazi period there were always clubs you could go to, but they always disappeared again after a while. After 1938 there were more and more raids. If we went to one and it was closed, then we didn’t know what had happened. Before the war, Lotte Hahm had also opened a place, at Alexanderplatz in the teacher’s association building on the second floor. There used to be a dance café there. Lotte Hahm had rented it and organized ladies’ nights there. But that didn’t last very long either. […] I knew that Lotte Hahm served time in jail for seduction of a minor. That’s just nonsense; I’d never believe that about her. It was just a pretext. Then I heard that she was supposedly in a concentration camp. She really had disappeared from the face of the earth for years, so that must be true.

[…] Margot and [her girlfriend Hildegard, aka] Peter, both lived with Lissy, a woman like us who still lived at home and had already hidden one Jew, also one of us. Margot was in hiding there and Peter lived there officially. […] All of a sudden [the Gestapo] came from Gesundbrunnen Station. I said to Margot, “Don’t even bother going home; come with me.” She stayed with me at least three to six months. I had a one-room apartment. We only went outside in the dark at night; she had to get some fresh air. I had really nice neighbors who didn’t support Hitler at all. Our landlady was Jewish; the landlord wasn’t, but because they were married—a so-called privileged mixed marriage—he had been able to save her. The Jewish woman was really great; she tolerated our having girlfriends, that is, this homosexuality. She was the only one who knew I had hidden Margot. The neighbors didn’t know; I never would have said anything. Back then children even denounced their own parents.
[…] One evening we were at Vineta Square again and a woman from the house saw her. Margot hadn’t noticed that she was being watched. The Russians were already in Berlin, but there was still a lot of shooting. The next day the Gestapo came again—to me this time. If they had gotten her then, they would have shot her. Of course, they would have shot me too. But Margot wasn’t there; she was upstairs at Hanni’s—also one of us… When they came to check on me, I simply said “I don’t know any Margot” and they were finished with me. It was May, right before the war ended. ”

—Anneliese W. (1916-1995), from Claudia Schoppmann’s Days of Masquerade: Life Stories of Lesbians During the Third Reich

“One night I was talking with my wife about how perfect our life was. It was twenty-five years ago. We had four children. We’d just saved enough money to buy a new house. We felt so lucky. I remember she said: ‘What if God takes something from us?’ The next day I came home from work and found my wife screaming. She was holding our oldest son. He’d stuck his hand in the washing machine andelectrocuted himself. We couldn’t revive him. We rushed to the hospital but the doctors said there was nothing they could do. I begged them to try. My friends from the church came and we all started to pray. And the doctors were able to bring him back to life. He became a case study. Today he’s 29. He has learning problems. He can’t read or write. But he has a job as a security guard. He enjoys his life. And to this day, I believe in miracles.”

(Valparaíso, Chile)

underrated twenty one pilots lyrics

  • “i don’t believe in talking just to breathe and falling selfishly”
  • “gnawing on the bishops, claw our way up their system”
  • “a mortal, rotting piece of song will help me carry on”
  • “i’m the son of all i’ve done - impostor, been fostered, then my new father drained my dirty blood”
  • “i hope they choke on smoke ‘cause i’m smoking them out the basement”
  • “my nose and feet are running as we start to travel through snow”
  • “i will carry all your shame”
  • “i asked forgiveness three times, same amount that i denied”
  • “put away all the gods your fathers served today, put away your traditions”
  • “we have enough stuff just to blow stuff up”
  • “i’m screaming submission and i don’t know if i am dying or living”
  • “i just won’t let go until we both see the light”
  • “is the blood mine or yours? don’t wanna do this anymore”
  • “am i screaming to an empty sky?”
  • “i could pull the steering wheel”
  • “then i sat up off the floor and found the breath i was searching for” 
  • “tell our dad i’m sorry”
  • “we all know somebody who knows somebody who’s doing great”
  • “hope you’re dead, ‘cause how could you sleep at a time like this?”
  • “i do not have writer’s block, my writer just hates the clock”
I’ve been thinking all week what I should say the last night of the last show… When I met Josh I- I- We don’t- We don’t tell many people this because we don’t want it to come off the wrong way, but I want you to learn something tonight- If you can, if you can. This is what I want you to know: You cannot put a ceiling to your dreams. You just can’t. When Josh and I met, we would say to each other, ‘Arenas… Arenas, man. We wanna play arenas.’ You have to understand maybe now looking around it’s like ‘Yeah, sure.’ But at that moment, when Josh and I would say that to each other, we didn’t tell anyone else because we thought they would laugh at us. We would take these little songs, this little keyboard stand thing I’m playing now, that beat up piano show over there- That same exact beat up piano show. We would go around and we would just show people our songs. And you know we’d be playing in front of just a few people at a time, afterwards we would just say 'Greetings. We’re gonna do this.’ You cannot put a ceiling on your dreams, guys, and we are living proof. You also can’t do it alone. You cannot do it alone. Living proof of that, would you please give up for my very good friend, Josh Dun on the drums! And even in this room right now there’s so many people in here who could take a little chunk of this thing and own it and know that it wouldn’t be possible without them and that includes you guys right here. You guys have set the tone from what a Twenty One Pilots concert and show and movement feels like and looks like, so thank you so much for making that happen. I want you to know that what happens after this… There’s a lot of- lot of questions. You know, if I’m being transparent. I’m not really sure. But when I was- when I was putting on my persona for the very first- last time in the green room right before the show, I wondered: Is this the last time? But we’re not gonna quit. I want you to know that we’re not gonna quit. We’re gonna take the things we’ve learned, and if you would just give us a little room to grow with you guys, we wanna make music and we’re gonna be thinking of this room right here when we do. I promise you that. So way back when, when we were playing in front of just a few people at a time, Josh would go over to a- a rickety old circular bar table and he would back flip off of it in front of three people, and I though that was kind of weird. Same piano show over there, these same songs… We saw you guys in our heads the whole time we were doing it, man! And we always ended our set- We always ended our sets with this song here, and we would like to invite you in our little tradition of closing out this concert with this last song with us.
—  Tyler Joseph, Tour De Columbus, Last Show of the Blurryface Era Trees Speech, 6/25/17
my name is Stanley Almodovar III
i carry the name of my father and his father before me
i’m twenty-three years young
i dyed my hair saturday but no one got to see it sunday morning
my name is Amanda Alvear
i am twenty-five years young
people know me as a pharmacy tech, the girl who lost almost two hundred pounds, the girl who takes too many selfies
but the only place i was truly myself was where i was that night
my name is Oscar Aracena
i am twenty-six years young
i’m a student at Valencia College
i was so close to getting my degree… so close
my name is Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala
i am thirty-three years young
i am a supervisor at the OneBlood donation center
i never did know if my job was the one who tried to save my life
my name is Capt. Antonio Davon Brown of the U.S. Army Reserve
i am thirty years young
i almost have my doctorate degree of management in organizational leadership
almost
my name is Darryl Roman Burt II
i am twenty-nine years young
i just received my master’s degree in Human Resources Management
tonight, i was celebrating
mi llamo Jonathan Camuy
soy es veinticuatro anos
trabajo en una cadena de televisión española
realmente estaba deseando volver a trabajar el lunes
my name is Angel Luis Candelario-Padro
i am twenty-eight years young
soon, i will be an ophthalmic technician
i cannot wait to begin my new job in a few days
my name is Omar Capo
i am twenty years young
i love to dance
i always said i wanted to die doing what i loved
my name is Simon Carrillo
i am thirty-one years young
my partner and i just came home from a little getaway to Niagara Falls
i was really looking forward to our next vacation together
my name is Luis Daniel Conde
i am thirty-nine years young
my best friend is  Juan Pablo Rivera Velazquez
he’s been by my side since high school
my name is  Juan Pablo Rivera Velazquez
i am twenty-two years young
my best friend is  Luis Daniel Conde
seems only fitting we left this world together
my name is Cory James Connell
i am twenty-one years young
my brother is getting married this fall and i am to be his best man
don’t tell him but i have no idea what to say in my speech
my name is Tevin Eugene Crosby
i am twenty-five years young
i am the owner of a marketing firm, Total Entrepreneurs Concepts
hard work truly does pay off; i can’t wait to share my latest meme with all of my facebook friends when i get home tonight
my name is Anthony Luis Laureano Disla
i am twenty-five years young
i love to dance, i want to be a dancer
tonight, i want to go dancing with my friends
my name is Deonka Deidra Drayton
i am thirty-two years young
for the first time in a long time, i can finally, confidently, say
that i am happy
my name is Leroy Valentin Fernandez
i am twenty-five years young
i love to sing
no matter what happens in life, no one will ever take my voice away from me
my name is Mercedez Marisol Flores
i am twenty-six years young
i am studying literature at Valencia College’s West Campus but my true passion is party planning
i’ve been thinking about switching majors
my name is Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz
i am twenty-two years young
all i want to do is make people smile
i’ve always thought that laughter could cure anything
my name is Paul Terrell Henry
i am forty-young years young
i am the proud father of two amazing kids and i have the most magnificent boyfriend
i cannot thank god enough for all of my blessing
my name is Frankie Hernandez
i am twenty-seven years young
i have a little sister, she’s one of my best friends
i cannot wait to see the person she becomes when she grows up
my name is Miguel Angel Honorato
i am thirty years young
i have three sons who i love more than life itself
i hope they will enjoy what i have planned for the next birthday party
my name is Jimmy De Jesús
i am fifty years young
i love my job but i am so thankful i have tomorrow off
i plan on having a good time tonight
my name is Javier Jorge-Reyes
i am forty years young
i am so, so proud of who i am
no one can take that away from me
my name is Jason Josaphat
i am nineteen years young
i love life, i love my life
and it’s only just begun
my name is Eddie Justice
i am thirty years young
i have a huge family, but i am a mama’s boy at heart
i always make sure to text my mom everyday
my name is Christopher Leinonen
i am thirty-two years young
i am madly in love with my boyfriend, Juan Guerrero
i cannot wait to see what the future has in store for the two of us
my name is Juan Guerrero
i am twenty-five years young
i am madly in love with my boyfriend, Christopher Leinonen
after a long week at work, i just want to unwind with my love tonight
my name is Alejandro Martinez
i am twenty-one years young
i have only been living in Florida for two years
but i have always met so many kind people here; that must be why it is called the “sunshine state”
my name is Brenda Lee Marquez-McCool
i am forty-nine years young
i beat cancer twice
and i have never felt more alive
my name is Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez
i am twenty-five years young
i am studying health care management at the Ana G. Mendez University’s Orlando campus
all i want to do is help people
my name is Kimberly Morris, but you can call me ‘KJ’
i am thirty-seven years young
i moved to Florida to be closer to my mother and grandmother
i love my job as a bouncer at Pulse Nightclub
my name is Akyra Murray
i am eighteen years young
i just graduated from West Catholic Preparatory High School
my name is Geraldo Ortiz-Jimenez, but you can call me Drake
i am twenty-five years young
i love Selena Gomez
i hope to meet her one day
Joel Rayon Paniagua
i am thirty-one years young
i love dancing
i am going to meet my friends for a night of dancing
my name is Jean Carlos Mendez Perez
i am thirty-five years young
not to brag, but i am the best salesperson Perfumania
you can ask Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon
my name is Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon
i am thirty-seven years young
growing up wasn’t easy but i can finally say that i am comfortable in my own skin
and i am lucky enough to have Jean Carlos Mendez Perez by my side through it all
my name is Enrique L. Rios
i am twenty-five years young
i am from New York
but i came to Florida to celebrate my friend’s birthday
my name is Eric Ivan Ortiz Rivera
i am thirty-six years young
i don’t really like clubs
but it’s for a friend, so tonight, i will go
my name is Xavier Emmanuel Serrano
i am thirty-five years young
i have a five year old son who is my entire world
i just hope i will raise him to be a genuine and compassionate person
my name is Christopher Sanfeliz
i am twenty-four years young
i am a personal banker at J.P. Morgan Chase bank
i am very thankful to have Sundays off, especially tonight
my name is Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan
i am twenty-four years young
i am a proud mom and wife
my youngest baby is three months old
my name is Jean Carlos Nieves Rodriguez
i am twenty-seven years young
i just brought my first house
i just want my mom to live somewhere nice
my name is Edward Sotomayor Jr.
i was named after my father
i am thirty-four years young
i love my boyfriend and i love adventure
my name is Shane Tomlinson
i am thirty-three years young
i am the lead singer in a band
i love to bring music to the lives of others
my name is Martin Benitez Torres
i am thirty-three years young
last month, i enrolled in college
i hope to be a pharmacy tech
my name is Juan Rivera Velazquez
i am thirty-nine years young
i love being a hair stylist
 i love making people feel beautiful
my name Luis Vielma
i am twenty-two years young
i love my job, especially working on the Harry Potter ride at Universal
but one day i really want to become an EMT
my name is Jerald Arthur Wright
i am thirty-one years young
i have a huge family, both biological and my coworkers 
tonight i am celebrating my friend’s birthday
—  say their names
(cc, 2017)

anonymous asked:

so gang!phil interrogating rival!dan but phils usual techniques (slapping, hitting, etc.) are just turning dan on, so instead phil just edges him til he gives in 💙

Phil cracked his knuckles, sighing as he pushed open the door to the interrogation room. He was instantly hit with a rank stench, and he flinched, crinkling his eyes in disgust.

Dan Howell sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, a gag over his mouth. He didn’t seem to notice Phil entering.

He had a black eye, and a cut on one cheek, so it was clear the boys had had some fun with him when they had caught him. He was still pretty cute though. And despite all this, Dan’s eyes were dry.

“Dan,” he said loudly, and the boy looked up, glaring at him fiercely.

Phil stepped forward, yanking the gag down, and Dan immediately took this opportunity to spit at him.

Phil calmly wiped it away, and Dan laughed. Phil shook his head, fiddling with the straps of the gloves they used to make punches hurt the offender less and the victim more. It was an old intimidation technique, but Dan didn’t flinch.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Howell.” His voice was low, and he leaned down so he was at Dan’s level, their faces inches away.

“Maybe,” Dan said slowly, staring him down. “Or maybe you just don’t know why I did what I did.”

Phil stepped back, putting his foot on Dan’s chair, his clunky black boot resting between Dan’s legs.

“Unfortunately for you, that’s why I’m here.”

Dan’s subtle smirk grew, and Phil couldn’t help but growl under his breath. He was infuriating.

“Why would that be unfortunate?” Dan’s voice was light; teasing. “You know I adore our little chats.”

Phil was reminded why Dan was used for things like this - he was the best spy imaginable, and when he got caught, he wasn’t easy to crack.

Phil didn’t hesitate to swing at him, slapping him in the face, hard. Dan’s head was thrown to the side, but he came back smiling. He yawned, a strand of messy brown hair falling between his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I needed that. I was falling asleep.”

Phil grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward roughly and practically strangling him.

“Look Howell,” he hissed, and Dan’s eyes widened slightly. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. And either way, you’re gonna fucking tell me why you were spying on my base, and what you know.”

Dan searched his icy blue eyes, determined not to let his confidence waver.

“I think it’s gonna have to be the hard way,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Because I’m not telling you shit.”

Phil huffed through his nose, and grabbed a handful of Dan’s hair. He tugged back roughly, and Dan let out a soft whimper, of surprise or pain, Phil couldn’t tell.

Dan’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his exposed throat somehow made Phil want to bite him. Instead he fastened a hand around it, making Dan cry out.

“I could snap your fucking neck,” Phil growled at him. “I could slit your throat. Tell me everything, and it’s all over.”

Dan gagged softly, squirming in his tight grip. “No. Hit me again, fucker.”

Phil obliged, letting go of him just to backhand him. And it looked like it hurt like hell; the impact split Dan’s lip. But Dan fucking moaned.

His eyes glinted with red hot fire, a wild grin melting to his features. “Again,” he breathed, and Phil stared at him.

Dan was a mess; he was visibly shaking, he had a black eye and a lip that was bleeding down his chin. But he was asking for more…? What did it take to break this kid?

Phil glared at the boy, punching him twice in the stomach, and shoving him backwards. The chair toppled backwards, and Dan landed on his arms, his head hitting the ground as well.

He cried out in pain, but there was something else in his tone, a sort of whine, and oh my god, this was turning him on, wasn’t it?

Phil swallowed, moving to stand over Dan, hovering above him. Dan grinned at him cockily, until Phil grabbed his face with a firm grip, and he squeaked.

“You think this is hot, don’t you?” He asked quietly, getting as close to Dan as possible without being tempted to kiss his broken lips. Dan laughed.

“And you don’t?” He smirked. “Having me like this, completely helpless? Ruining my pretty face, fuck, like the worthless piece of shit I am.”

It all clicked in Phil’s mind- why no one could seem to make Dan break. It was impossible to get information from him, simply because he liked the abuse. It made Phil even more pissed.

Phil stood back up, grabbing Dan by the hair and pulling him and the chair back up. Dan whimpered; fire shooting through his head.

“We’re gonna try something a little different,” Phil said calmly, his voice coming out sickly-sweet. Dan shivered.

“Do whatever you want,” he spit, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Oh really? That’s too bad.” Without warning he leaned forward, his hands placed on either side of Dan’s hips, his breath brushing over the side of Dan’s neck. He ran his hand over Dan’s waistband, and then down to his (obvious at this point) bulge. “Guess you won’t be coming anytime soon, then.”

“Wha-” Dans breath caught and the words got stuck in his throat as Phil ran his fingertips over his hard on, certainly not making it better. “What d-do you mean?” He choked out.

Phil ignored him, pushing his hand into Dan’s pants, under his boxers, and ran his thumb over Dan’s tip.

Dan whined rather loudly, squirming on the chair, but the ropes made it so it was nearly impossible for him to move.

“Phil,” he breathed, trying to shift his hips away. “What are you d-doing…?”

Phil grinned maliciously. Finally, he had found something that would actually affect Dan. And he was going to have some fun with it.

“Mmh, just giving my whore what he wants,” he breathed in Dan’s ear, and Dan couldn’t help but moan.

Phil moved his hand, wrapping his fingers around Dan’s length. He watched Dan bite down on his bottom lip as Phil moved his hand, slowly teasing him, his thumb brushing over Dan’s slit occasionally.

Soon enough Dan was a whimpering mess, and he seemed to have given up any integrity he may have had left. His head fell back on the chair, his eyes closed, and he was attempting to rut against Phil’s hand while letting out an endless stream of high pitched moans. Phil had to be honest, it was sexy as hell.

Phil could tell Dan was getting close by the increase in pitch of his noises, and the way his hips stuttered. His cock was leaking precum, which made it easier for Phil to slide his hand up and down Dan’s shaft.

“Now,” he said softly, sweetly, even, slowing down his movements to a near halt. “Are you gonna tell me what you were doing outside the base, slut?”

Dan whined, his eyes opening, and he licked his lips.

“Please-”

“Answer the question.”

Phil stopped his movements all together, holding his hand at the base of Dan’s dick so he couldn’t cum even if he was able to.

Dan searched his face, chewing on the inside of his cheek before muttering, “no.”

At that Phil just smiled meanly, biting down on Dan’s throat and sucking hard, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

“That’s okay.” He laughed, and Dan looked almost scared. “We’ve got time.”

That began the next unbearable moments for Dan, with Phil scratching bright red marks down his thighs and occasionally leaving hickeys all over his neck and jaw.

And here’s the thing; Dan did not want to beg. He hated begging. Begging was admitting your defeat, and that was something Dan simply couldn’t do. But right then, Dan was probably closer to breaking down than he had been in his entire life.

He wanted to cum, he had been so close, and when Phil had stopped-

It was worse than any physical pain he could inflict.

When Phil started moving his hand again, Dan almost cried. He started slow again, gradually speeding up, stopping occasionally to flick his wrist around Dan’s head.

“Mmph, fuck,” Dan whined, his head falling back, beginning to lose his mind again. “Ph-Phil, please make me cum, please.”

“You wanna cum?” Phil growled softly, speeding up even more, and Dan practically screamed.

“Yes-! F-Fuck, n-need to…!”

Phil smirked, watching Dan’s face and admiring how he fell apart just from some pain and a hand around his cock. He was gorgeous, his face all roughed up and his hair falling in his eyes, sticking from sweat. Phil wanted to fuck his brains out, but then wasn’t really the time.

“Too bad,” he said finally, stopping again right when Dan was the closest possible.

Dan let out an incredulous noise, groaning, his hips bucking into nothing, desperate for friction.

“Fuck you,” he said breathlessly, his voice breaking. “Fuck you, Phil Lester. Let me cum.”

“Tell me what I need to know, sweetheart.” He dipped two fingers under Dan’s chin, bringing his face up. “Or, trust me, I could do this all day.”

Dan shook his head.

Twenty minutes later, and Dan was visibly shaking again. Tears streamed down his face, and he didn’t even remember when they had started. His hips constantly twitched, and he had to gasp for breath.

“Please.” His voice was soft and broken and desperate and sleepy; goddamn beautiful. “Please, Phil, I need it, I-”

“Aw.” Phil stuck out his lower lip, mocking him. “Poor baby. Poor desperate little whore, do you need to cum, my love?”

Dan shuddered, nodding frantically, not even above falling for Phil’s teasing.

Phil slapped him, the noice echoing through the room, and Dan moaned.

“Then tell me what I fucking need to know, Dan. It’s that simple,” he hissed through his teeth.

Dan whimpered, sleepily shaking his head. But then Phil’s mouth was on his dick, his jeans shoved down, and god, he had been close for an hour now. He just needed it so bad.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he squeezed them shut.

Phil had been edging him for so goddamn long, he was going crazy. He was so weak, and every second that Phil touched him, he got closer. The very edge, and Phil’s hot, wet mouth was closed around him, humming, and fuck he was going to cum. It was right there, and then…

Phil pulled off with a pop, glaring at him. Dan could scream. And then he lost it.

“Phil, f-fuck, your mouth is so good, please-” he choked on the words, the emotion and need getting caught in his throat, and there were tears on his cheeks again. “Please, need to cum, please let me, p-please-” he hiccuped, shaking his head desperately. “Please, no more. N-No more, I’ll tell you!”

Phil smiled, drawing his thumb down Dan’s cheek.

“Mmh, good boy,” he hummed, and Dan soaked up the praise, nuzzling against Phil’s hand like a kitten. He didn’t care anymore. “That’s all I wanted. Tell me everything, and then you can cum.”

Dan nodded frantically, sniffing, the words spilling from his mouth like a waterfall. How he had been sent to scope out the new recruits, how his gang had been planning to kidnap one of the new kids, hold him hostage. Even how they had anticipated that Dan would get caught, and how he would try and get information on the inside as well.

At the end Dan broke down, a sob catching in his throat, still so fucking hard, his dick still leaking and straining to reach his stomach.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Phil said sweetly, fastening his hand around Dan’s cock for the thousandth time.

Dan sucked in a sharp breath, his head lolling backwards, whimpering softly.

Phil got him off in a matter of moments, and Dan moaned loudly and high pitched as he spilled over Phil’s hand and his stomach.

Phil untied him, seeing as he was practically passed out, and Dan slumped to the ground.

He stood over him, looking over the exhausted, broken boy laying on the ground beneath him, breathing heavily. What a gorgeous mess.

He leaned over, kneeling next to him and lifting his head up by his hair. Dan didn’t even react, except for glancing at him sleepily.

“Needless to say, you can’t go back to your gang,” Phil said calmly.

“You gonna kill me?” Dan asked, more like a statement, as if he didn’t even care what the answer was.

“No…” Phil hummed, letting Dan lay back down and running his fingers through his tangled hair. “I was thinking you’d stay here. With me.”

Dan made a noise of acknowledgment, licking his ripped up lips.

“If it means we can do that again, then I’m down.”

Okay, are you ready for this? Don’t say I never treat you. Do you guys, right now, want some fan service? Do you want me to just give the people what they want? … Okay, you’re not ready for this, you’re not ready for this. Are you ready? You’re just gonna die. You’re not ready for this. Okay, this is going to be insane. You’re not ready for this. So we were out having lunch with our friend Laura and then I had to go meet up with my mum, who was in town, because I left my denim jacket at their house over Christmas - boring. And I went outside in just [the weed jumper] and this is really cold, right? ‘Cause when the wind blows and such and it’s been really warm in London recently but I went out and it was like freezing and I had to go walk for like twenty minutes to meet my mum, so you know what I did? While Phil was going home and I was going for a walk? I asked Phil if I could borrow his coat and I DID. Holy shit. So for twenty minutes today, I was wearing Phil’s coat. That-that… I mean, don’t say I never do anything for you. Okay? Don’t say… don’t say I don’t give the trash cans what they want. Don’t say I’m too busy acknowledging what the casual viewers and the calm people that don’t like crazy people, that leaves comments on my videos saying ‘Dan, this doesn’t represent me. I’m a normal person. I really don’t like watching these danisnotonfire videos where you're crying all the time. I feel like it’s too intense. We’re not all like that.’ You know, so there you go. I mean honestly.
— 

@danisnotonfire​ during his live show on the 4th of April 2017

Quotes from Dan (44/?)

The fan service that Dan thinks we deserve apparently.

Here is thing I learned when I was 29, which I now give away for free:

If you want to do a thing, do it now, or as soon as feasible. Because there might not be a later.

If it is a complicated or expensive or hard thing that takes many stages or has a steep learning curve, start working on the parts you can work on while you can work on them, then move on to the next thing. Accept that there will be a lot of failures along the way, and that you can come back from nearly any mistake that doesn’t involve making a left turn in front of an oncoming semi. Concentrate on yourself and what you can do, and don’t rely on other people to fix things for you, even though you might love them or they you. (This doesn’t mean you can’t love friends or family or partners. Friends and family and partners, in the long run, are the thing other than Useful Work and Adventures that make life worthwhile. Well, all that, and a really nice coffee and tea kit in the kitchen and the skill to use it. But that last thing isn’t terribly expensive unless you make it be.)

But to succeed at a thing–a job, a relationship–in the long term, the thing is: You Must Commit, even though commitment is scary. And commitment is scary because once you’re in you’re in. It’s not bobbing around close to the shore, paddling with your feet. It’s both feet and swimming as hard as you can out where the rip currents and the sharks are, where the water turns blue.

You can’t hold back because you’re afraid of getting hurt: you have to accept that you are going to get hurt, and put your hand in the fire of your own free will.

It’s like climbing. You can make sure you’ve got good ropes and a belayer you trust (you SHOULD make sure you have good ropes and a belayer you trust!), but there’s moves you can’t make unless you’re willing to risk falling. I’m not saying follow your bliss off a cliff, in other words: part of being prepared and committed is having the right kit, whether it’s money in the bank for the lean times when starting off as a freelancer, or a partner who supports your work, or being young enough that starving in a cold room for a few years with pneumonia is romantic (I have the T-shirt!).

That’s why it’s scary. It’s scary because you are taking an actual chance.

But: things don’t work out the way you want them to if you just kind of drift along seeing what will happen. Nice things might happen! …but they didn’t, for me.

Basically, what I figured out was that I had to be a protagonist if I wanted anything to happen, and part of being a protagonist was accepting that I might fail. And then have to deal with that failure. And that if I didn’t do it I would more or less inevitably fail, but I could pretend to myself that it wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough and that I didn’t know why.

Seeking success, in other words, meant letting go of a layer of ego defense.

This realization directly led to me having the career I always wanted, and doing pretty well at it.

It also led to me having the best relationship of my life. I wish I’d learned it when I was sixteen, rather than twenty-nine, but I had some things I had to work through first. 

So that thing you want to do? Assuming it’s not illegal or immediately fatal? Do it now.

Little Humans are Odd thingy

So I was walking through my house today, and I accidently stubbed my toe hard against something on the ground. Like, really hard. I of course cursed, but bit through the pain because I had stuff to do. Ain’t nobody got time for a stubbed toe.

20 minutes later, I’m lying on my couch when I suddenly feel.. wetness on the toe I stubbed. I look, only to see a DEEP cut.

I WALKED AROUND WITH A BLOODY BLEEDING TOE FOR TWENTY MINUTES, BECAUSE I HAD “STUFF TO DO”. I DIDN’T FEEL THE PAIN BECAUSE “AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT”

It’s like soldiers that realize way later that they have been shot. Or a sprinter that FINALLY realizes their ankle is sprained.

Aliens would either be very concerned or very terrified about things like this.

Like, your human could discover a wound too late.

Or the humans you’re fighting are not fazed by a bullet wound because AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR PAIN-

cathy brennan is a dangerous fucking woman. she is a white lesbian TERF who has spent the past twenty four hours harassing & trying to doxx my trans friends in olympia, leaking their information on twitter. she blocked me on facebook already & i don’t really know how she knew to do that. i don’t have a twitter, but it would be fucking awesome if y’all could call her the fuck out. she is a lawyer & has a lot of pull in a lot of places, which is unfortunate and terrifying. if you give her a quick google search you will find pages upon pages of evidence to show how gross and transphobic she is. 

August 24, 2017

To the boy with the green eyes,

Remember the last time we saw each other? 
In your little blue car….
We poured our hearts out to one another. 
We cried on each other’s shoulders.
I confessed my love to you. 
You confessed your love to me. 
But you didn’t confess that this was going to be the last night I saw you. 
Two hundred and twenty-one days later, I still remember this night clearly. 

You stopped by to pick up your (very) late Christmas present. 
You knew how bad I had been, and asked what was wrong. 
We walked to your little blue car, put the windows down on that cold chilly moonlit night, and talked. 
I told you everything that was happening to me: 
My ex-boyfriend and his new guy. 
A friend that I thought I could trust. 
And a lover that broke my heart. 
I also told you I was in a very dark place. 
Do you remember what I said to you?
I’m too ashamed to confess what I did to myself. 
Please don’t make me say it. 
I don’t want to see you cry again. 
Your beautiful emerald looking eyes don’t deserve to have tears in them. 
They need to keep sparkling and smiling. 

After we cried together, I confessed my love to you. 
I didn’t expect you to say anything. 
I didn’t expect you to feel the same way. 
I just wanted you to listen. 
I remember looking into those dazzling green eyes, holding your hand, and telling you: 
“I know this sounds cheesy. And I know that it may not seem true. But this is the truth. I promise. I love you. I love you so much. And I want to let you know that I will always love you. No matter what. I don’t care if you’re with someone new. I don’t care if I’m with someone new. I don’t even care if I haven’t talked to you in months, or even years. I will always love you.”
You didn’t say anything. 
You just looked at me with those watery green eyes.
You nodded and a tear fell down your cheek. 

Then, I asked you what you wanted from me. 
You said:
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I never know what the right choice is. I never know what the right thing to do is. I always hurt you. I don’t want to keep hurting you. We had a lot of fun. And that’s all I wanted at first. And that’s what happened. I liked you. I really did. A lot. Then things changed. I wanted to hang out with you every day and be with you every day. And we did that. I wanted to be closer to you. And we did that too. Then stuff happened, and I got scared. I don’t know. I was scared to be happy. I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I wasn’t prepared at all for how I felt about you. I didn’t know how to take it to the next level. I didn’t know how to be your boyfriend.” 

These words still bring tears to my eyes.  
It’s as if we are star-crossed; forever living different paths in our lives that don’t have any connection in the end, denying us of any chance of living a life together. 
But how can that be when we are existing at the same time?
You’re alive. 
I’m alive. 
And I have never felt more alive with anyone else than when I’m with you. 
Just the way you look at me with those alluring eyes is what convinces me that you are in love with me too. 
So why aren’t you with me now? 
Why are you with someone else? 
Is it because she can give you a family?
Is it because you want to believe she’s the one for you?
Not just you though, for your whole family. 
She’s someone they will accept. 
Nobody would accept me into your family. 
I think we both know that for sure. 

Two hundred and twenty-one days have passed since that night happened. 
I’ve gone through many stages of:
Hating you. 
Worrying about you. 
Wondering if you’re dead.
Wondering if you’re alive. 
Pretending you’re dead. 
Wishing for your presence. 
All while still loving you. 
It’s torture. 

I don’t know if I should give up. 
But a part of me feels that I will never find anybody like you. 
Nobody’s going to look at me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to touch me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to care about me the way you did. 
And nobody’s going to understand me the way you do.
Every time I talk to someone new, I compare them to you. 
I know that’s wrong, but it’s true and I can’t help it. 
That’s when I start to believe that they’re not good enough for me. 
Because I need to find somebody that’s so good that they make me forget about you…
I know that’s not fair and I think that’s what keeps me from letting people in. 
I put this steel cage around my heart when you left me, and you’re the only one with the key to open it. 
I just wish you would talk to me. 
I wish you would tell me to move on, but your silence speaks louder than words. 
It drives me crazy; leads me to believe that I did something wrong, but I didn’t. 
Maybe it’s your way of keeping me in the sidelines when things get bad with you and her. 
I don’t see how that’s fair, but I love you so much that I don’t care. 
I’ll take any excuse you give me to come back, so long as I get to see your face again. 

I’m sorry. 
I’m sorry for getting close to you. 
I’m sorry for burdening you with my problems. 
I’m sorry for loving you. 
I’m sorry for all of this. 
Maybe things would’ve been simpler if we just didn’t meet. 
But as people say, “Two souls don’t just meet by simple coincidence.”
I start to wonder why you came into my life. 
Or was it I that came into yours?
I wonder if you’ll ever come back to me, even as a friend. 
I miss you. 
I miss you so dearly. 
Please stay alive while I exist. 
Whether it’s a year or ten, I will wait for you. 
Because I love you, and I want to believe that we are meant to be together. 
I want to wake up every morning to those lovely green eyes of yours. 

I wanted to tell you that I forgive you.
I forgive you for pretending that I don’t exist.
I forgive you for leaving me with no explanation.
I forgive you for choosing her over me.
I forgive you  for falling for me.
I get it now.
We are just simply not meant to be.

You know me…
I always have so much to say to you.
I could write books about my love for you. 
But I have one more important thing to say….

Happy birthday. 

Love always and forever, 
The boy with the brown eyes 

I love PTA Sans. No matter the AU. 

 ~Undertale~  

Helen: It looks like we’ll have to cut funding for the talent show. 

Sans: wait, hold up- what? that’s such crap! why? 

Helen: Well if we want to make the exchange for only gluten free lunches, we’ll have to. 

Sans: what? but there are, like, fifteen other lunch choices without gluten, and the kids can just bring their own lunch- 

Helen: Sans, you’ll just have to deal with it, okay? These lunches are more important than the talent show. 

Sans: Helen, for the love of god, i did not spend all night cutting out box tops just to hear the shit that spills from your mouth.

~Underfell~

Daniel: Well I just think monsters and humans should be separated in the sports teams.

Sans: what? why the fuck would we do that? the teams are perfectly fine, fuckface.

Daniel: It’s unfair to some of the human players, Sans.

Sans: oh, just ‘cause your kid can’t kick a ball fer shit?

Daniel: *huffs* I’m just trying to make it fair.

Sans: no, it sounds like you’re tryna make it segregation.

Daniel: This meeting is for all of our children, not just yours. Just because Frisk works well with monsters, doesn’t mea-

Sans: who gives a fuck?! all your kids are shit!

~Underswap~

Linda: *sees Papyrus* *smirks and walks over with Helen* Hello Papyrus. Sorry your plan for that field trip didn’t go through. 

Papyrus: *shrugs* eh. it happens. it looks like we won’t take the kids to the science museum after all.

Helen: We just don’t have the money to go to there. Maybe we can take them to the local library. That’s far more affordable and interesting to the childre-

Papyrus: the fuck? ha, no. we actually have over twenty thousand bucks for our field trip.

Linda and Helen: *gawk* What? How?!

Papyrus: my bro’s the head booster mom. they just had a fundraiser.

Sans: *bursts in through the door with arms full of cash* WE’RE GOING TO EUROPE! MWEH HEH HEH!

~Swapfell~ ~Fellswap~ ~Whatever the fuck you call the yellow one~

Sans: *looks at his clipboard* *storms over to Gloria* YOU! PARTICULARLY FLESHY HUMAN! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?

Gloria: *blinks in surprise* Huh? What do you mean?

Sans: ARE YOU SERIOUS? ONLY TWENTY DOLLARS IN SALES?

Gloria: It’s only how much my daughter could sel-

Sans: GLORIA THIS IS A FUNDRAISER, NOT THE GOD DAMN GIRL SCOUTS! AS HEAD BOOSTER MOM, I DEMAND THAT MORE EFFORT BE PUT INTO YOUR SALES!

Gloria: Sans, we’ve already sold most of the cookie dough! We don’t-

Sans: DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING LIVE, GLORIA? WE MUST SELL ALL THE COOKIE DOUGH!

~Horrortale~

Sans: *goes over to the snack table* Whoa. *picks up a pumpkin-shaped cookie that’s well designed* whoa. nice work, Sadie. been years since I’ve had cookies. *is about to eat one*

Suzanne: *rushes over* Oh dear. *snatches cookie away and sighs* I told her not to make those Halloween themed cookies! She knows we cancelled the Halloween themed party next week.

Sans: whoa, what? c’mon, why?

Suzanne: Well, we didn’t want to offend your people.

Sans: “my people”?

Suzanne: Why don’t you have some of my non-offensive brownies instead?

Sans: Suz, i’d rather starve than eat your brownies.

Suzanne: Oh yeah! I’m sorry, Sans. I forgot your people are all anorexic.

Sans:…….. hey, why don’t you and your family come over t’dinner, sometime? my bro’s cooking’s to die for. s’on me, pumpkin *winks*

~Altertale~

Sans: *brought some of Asgore’s scones to the meeting*

Lillian: Oh, are these scones? *tries one* Bleh!? ARE these scones?

Sans: *sighs* yes, they are. is there a problem?

Lillian: Whoever made these needs a few cooking lessons. A few dozen.

Sans:…… *picks up phone and begins to dial*

Lillian: Who are you calling?

Sans: for your lesson. *the call picks up*

Toriel: Hey, Sa-

Sans: she insulted the scones.

*the call goes dead*

Toriel: *bursts through the window* WHO THE FUCK-?!

~Underlust~

Helen: Alright, so far I am leading the sales with over two hundred dollars. *smiles to herself* I suppose my Suzy is just determined to help out our school.

Sans: *rolls his eyelights*

Helen: And Sans? How much did Frisk raise?

Sans: two thousand.

Helen: *sputters* Thousand?! How?!

Sans: candles weren’t doin’ it for us. we tried something else.

Helen: *hesitant to ask* What… did you sell?

Sans: well, we decided it was a good idea to post my picture up on craigslist and-

Linda: YOU SOLD YOUR BODY?!

Sans: Paps and the queen were happy to help, too.

Helen: That’s illegal! It’s a crime!

Sans: boo, the only crimes here are your lemon squares and that getup.

~Echotale~

Martha: It just shouldn’t be mandatory to vaccinate our children!

G: *sighs and rubs face* look, Martha, if you don’t vaccinate your kids, they’re gonna fucking die.

Martha: I am NOT letting those people pump those shots of retardedness into my child.

G: that’s not even a proven-

Martha: I’m sorry; what kind of certification do YOU have?!?

G:*blinks and digs into his pocket* huh? whoa. what’s this? *pulls out his PhD* whoa! huh, i didn’t even know that was in there. *looks at Martha* weird, huh?

~Outertale~

Helen: My child has straight A’s.

Linda: My child made class president.

Sans: my child flew into outer space and freed an entire race. *puts on sunglasses* far out, bitches. *disappears*

The Preacher’s Daughter // A Mitch Rapp Smut

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

A/N: This is mine and @stilinski-jpeg ‘s first series together and I’m so fucking excited for y’all to see what we have planned. Love you Nia and thank you for being my best friend. 

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (Male on Female), Sinning, Underage Drinking, and Swearing.

Word Count: 6,176

Song: Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my nervous voice ringing with the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement.

Keep reading

4

“Ten years. Ten years since she had proven herself to the very people she betrayed. Ten years since they could deem each other as friends. But it had been twenty years since they shared a kiss,”

Please do not repost unless permission was granted by the artist!
thursday

8:03 (arrive)
8:04 alright already got a solid five minutes in on this day
8:27 wow I already have almost half an hour? nice, that went by really fast
8:51 almost one half of the way to one half of the morning done
9:05 nice okay so ive already got way over an hour now
9:59 the morning is half over and that wasn’t too bad
10:30 I am already 5/8 done with this morning
11:01 okay it is basically lunch time already
11:24 thirty minutes til lunch? no problem
11:44 five minutes til lunch, basically
11:51 I could probably leave now but it would look bad
11:53 time for lunch

1:21 twenty minutes into the afternoon and I barely feel it, this is fine
1:48 wow great one hour down
2:21 time for my fourth bathroom break of the day (I have conditioned myself to have a small bladder just to gradually wear down the day in a plethora of two minute bathroom breaks)
2:50 half of the afternoon done, sweet
3:10 I’m a maniac, look at me go, ¾ of this day is over
3:15 time to stare out the window for two minutes
3:19 okay back to work
3:45 this day is pretty much over
3:47 one hour left
4:12 this is my favorite hour of the day I love this hour
4:16 only thirty minutes left
4:31 I have twenty two minutes left max but I could push it to twenty one
4:44 time to close out of my email
4:46 time for a bathroom break, but this time I’ll take extra long to walk back
4:47 technically isn’t there some state law that requires we get two 15 minute breaks? I never take those. can’t I just leave at 4:30 every day if I don’t take those? how do I find this out
4:51 yeah good enough cya


2

♡17/09/17♡ - 🌸 sunday 🌸

this week’s spread!! i actually managed to post it within the same week for once HAHA, the lighting was nice to me today (you an even lowkey see the reflection of the sky in the photos!! it’s so cute). plus, pink is my favourite colour, so this week’s colour combination made me happy :)

anyway, happy (late) namjoon day!!!! i featured him on my spread as often as i could this time to make up for the fact that i didn’t have time to do an individual spread for him like i did for kookie (。・・。) but i’ll do that the second i have free time!! super excited for that even though i have twenty deadlines coming up,,

About Last Night // The Preacher’s Daughter Part Two [A Mitch Rapp Smut]

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

Series: Part One

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Public Fingering, Public-ish Oral (Female on Male), Sinning, Thigh Riding, and Swearing.

Word Count: 6,283

Song: Slow Hands (Acoustic) by Niall Horan

A/N: Thank you to my favorite @stilinski-jpeg for proofreading and editing this. I love you!

Keep reading