i feel useless sometimes

Red and Lance conversation

Lance: *sit on reds cockpit and hug his knees*

Red: *makes uncomfortable noise*

Lance: sorry red just…give me a second

Red: *whats wrong Paladin?*

Lance: hah you also talk….just some problems and…nothing nvm I’m leaving *stand up*

Red: *lock the door* *you start talking now finish*

Lance: *scof* like pilot like paladin I guess…*sits again* I’m just…I feel useless sometimes you know I just UGH!!! *tell his insecurities and what he hate about himself*

2 Vargas later

Lance: *comes out of Red*

Keith: *tackle hug Lance*

Lance: what the?! KEITH LET G-

Keith: Dare to say that about yourself one more time…and I’ll beat you up

Lance: *looks at red with tears on his eyes* you big chismosa *hug Keith back*

little pieces

[because i’m incredibly invested in finding out what happened with wish!Hook and his little girl to make them take those particular pieces]

His daughter, over the years, becomes – by far – the cleverest and most challenging opponent he’s ever had. One game can last for days at a time while they both carefully contemplate each move, filling the time with conversation and laughter, picking up where they left off the next time he manages to sneak in to see her.

He’s been a pirate, a scoundrel, for such a very long time. But not in her eyes. No, in her eyes, he’s a shining knight in a black leather duster. He knows this because she tells him one evening. She holds his captured white knight piece in her dainty fingers and says, “It’s you, Papa.”

“Is it, now?” His eyes light up with amusement. “And why is that, my dear?”

“The knight overcomes obstacles like no other piece can. He moves between the light and dark, and even though he’s meant to protect others, he’s still… he’s so free. So it’s you, Papa. You’re my knight.”

It’s moments like these that he wonders if she knows just how much he loves her, what he’d be willing to do, to sacrifice, for her happiness.

“Well, love… if I’m a knight, which piece are you? The queen?” He doesn’t expect her frown. “No, not the queen,” he says quickly. “My daughter isn’t some stuffy royal.”

The comment earns him an almost-smile from her, enough to make those lovely dimples of hers appear. But she sighs and picks up her own black rook, twirling it between thumb and forefinger.

“This one maybe? It… it looks like my tower. My prison. And I feel… I feel like nothing more than my cage sometimes. The rook is useless in the beginning, trapped, stuck. It can’t move anywhere, just like me.”

Before he knows it, he’s reaching across the small table and engulfing her smaller hand in his, the rook piece trapped between their fingers.

“You’re forgetting, darling, just how resilient it is. The rook is one of the most powerful pieces on the board. You say the knight overcomes obstacles? Once those chains are broken, the rook can demolish those obstacles.” He raises his hook to her chin, affectionately nudging her face up. “I swear to you, someday we will find a way to get you out of here. And then we’ll go wherever you want.”

Those blue eyes that are so much like his own glass over, the soft reflection of candlelight flickering in the shine.

“You promise?”

He leans forward and kisses her knuckles, then drags her hand to his chest, holding it tight against his heart, pursing his lips and trying to will himself to become stronger, better.

“Aye, little rook, I promise.”

He isn’t proud of the fact that he never managed to keep that promise. It’s possible, he supposes, that somehow she could have escaped on her own after that bloody witch spirited her away. He hopes she did, and that she found freedom her own way.

The rook piece, he keeps tucked safely away in his coat, close to his heart. It may be a dark heart, poisoned and weak, but it’s hers, and it always will be.

[thus, blee decided that she is henceforth tagging this father/daughter duo as #KnightRook, so blacklist as needed]

When you've had ADHD for a long time but still feel dumb

Hey! I’ve had ADHD for a long time now, I’m 22 and was diagnosed at age 5.

Even knowing that I have it, I sometimes still feel useless, loser-ish, and lazy.

I’m not any of those things in reality.

When I lived in Maryland, schools had a good system for dealing with it, and I even managed to move up to advanced classes! I was an average/high achiever student in elementary school, but when my family moved to the Middle East… everything went to shit.

I had just started middle school then, but they had no systems or schools for students with learning disabilities! And I was the kind of person who couldn’t write a paragraph in an essay without teachers watching me.
In other words, I failed every course I had that year, and it was blamed on me. I felt like a failure.

I went through high school with serious depression and anxiety that went undiagnosed because nobody knew how to deal with my ADHD!!! With maturity and desperation, I managed to pick up my grades and get top scores in 11th and 12th grade and even managed to get into medical school with a scholarship!

I’m still in medical school (haven’t failed yet!!) and while I still annoy professors and friends now and then by suddenly interrupting conversations or stimming, I get by.
I still have depression, anxiety, and now panic disorder, but I get by. I take meds, use alarms to remind me, and even get good grades. My life is okay now.

I wanted to let people with ADHD know that sometimes it sucks, but that it can be overcome.

Good luck!

Brighter Days Ahead

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Y/N tries her best to fight an ongoing battle with her mind.

Warnings: Mentions of depression and anxiety.

A/N: I’ve not been in the best head space this past week. That, ontop of school has pretty much kept me from posting, but I wrote this a while back and wanted to share it. Enjoy.


Getting out of bed isn’t the hard part of the day.

Not really. There’s a lot of other things that seem more tedious of task. Getting dressed in clothes you don’t want to wear or forcing food you’d rather let rot down your throat; talking. Talking seems exhausting. Breathing, even. All of it. A chore.

Y/N glances at the alarm clock on her bedside table. The room is dim, save for the light streaming in through translucent curtains. It’s enough for her to read the blinking red numbers that tell her it’s been twelve hours since she left her bed, and it’s enough to make her stomach wrench even more. She sighs. Her eyes hurt, so much as just blinking seeming ten times harder as she rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

All of it….And yet nothing.

Nothing can make her feel; not the sound of birds singing outside her window or her favorite show releasing a new episode; not pancakes with honey and orange slices like she used to have for breakfast. Not Dean. Her Dean.

When the thought wanders into Y/N’s mind it is almost painful; she clenches her eyes shut and tries to steer it away along with the burning. Dean…he’s been trying. The medication helps make all of this a lot easier than it should be, slows down the rapid bouts of anxiety and sadness and somehow manages to shutter the darkness (for a little bit. And then it’s back.)

When Y/N thinks of Dean and her depression and the shackles it has put her in, she feels a hole rip open in her chest. When she thinks of how she can’t bring herself to eat or speak or even brush her teeth more bits of her shrink and die away.

She sleeps for the rest of the day. Through lunch and Castiel dropping by to ask about the case their handling. Through Sam and Dean watching Die Hard and doing research. The hours float by, all blurred by the blackness around her, drowned out and scraggly and white-noise, everywhere, everything.


She stills. At the sound of a voice, lain on her back, her eyes flutter open and drift to the door. It’s gotten dark out, but the light pouring in from the hallway, cast against a recognizable shadow tells her Dean’s back to check on her.

Y/N swallows. Mustering as much strength as she can, she wordlessly sits up.

Dean’s hand rests on the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

A nod.

He enters, shutting the door behind him and bathing them in eminent blackness; out of the void she can only make out the shadows and contours of the elder Winchester as he crosses the room and sits down beside her, taking her hand in his.

Warm and calloused. Dean’s. All Dean’s, right there. Y/N gulps and lets him stroke it.

“Hey,” He says softly.

Y/N tries to smile; even that feels stilted and un-authentic, so she stops before she even starts. “Hi.”Her hand goes lax in the elder Winchester’s as he draws little tentative squiggles on the back of her palm.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, gaze set on her fingers. She shrugs. The silence is enough of an answer for him, and he finally brings himself to look her in the eye.

And it is strange, but even in pitch-black darkness—in the face of nothingness, an abyss she has dug herself into— she can still find it in herself to make out his eyes.

Those eyes….Those pools of green and gold and everything that is good. They dig into her own relentlessly, swimming with sympathy and hurt. Y/N fights back tears. She knows this is hard for Dean, too, seeing her like this. Not being able to do anything about it kills her more than the lethargy itself.

Voice lowered to a whisper he calls to her, so gentle, so intimate it feels like anything less will shatter them.


“Dean…” Her voice wobbles. Tears prickle at her eyes. Swallowing, she shakes her head slowly, resolve, the last thing the depression hadn’t eaten away, crumbling.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t…Don’t apologize. It’s okay, I know.”

And he does, doesn’t he? He knows the paralytic nature of anxiety. The long nights spent purging her emotions, the two of them wrapped around each other, vulnerable and pushing for some sort of release; he knows scars on her thighs and the story they tell, a tale of her teen-hood she shared when they just started dating.

The secrets of this disease are nothing furtive to Dean. He knows depression like an old friend and he knows Y/N and this kills him.

Night draws on and the elder Winchester surrenders research for an evening beside her, slipping under the sheets and pulling her into him, head rested right above his heart. They lay there, in the quiet. Dean’s hands tremble as he holds her. He tells her tales of home, of his childhood, smiles at her through glassy eyes whenever something he says earns a chuckle.



Y/N feels the silent question dangle over them. A gust of wind sneaks in through the vents, chilling enough for her to draw her feet further under the blanket, tucking herself further into the elder Winchester’s side.

“I’m sorry you have to do this with me all the time. This whole…suicide watch thing.”


“It’s true— that’s what it is, isn’t it?” She looks up to him, meeting his gaze.

“It’s not suicide watch,” Dean argues. “It’s being a good boyfriend.”

“It’s unnecessary. You don’t have to do this.”

“God, even when you’re down you’re still stubborn, huh?” He finally looks down at her. It’s too dark to make out the emotion in them, but she knows it’s anything but anger or frustration; he is patient with her. He always is. Probably why her neuroticism hasn’t broken them up yet.

Eyes set on hers, the elder Winchester opens his mouth to speak but halts. He sighs, shaking his head. “I wanna be here. Do you want me to be here?”

When she nods, the conversation eventually dies out. Soon enough their back to basking in the silence.

But even with Dean’s dismissal of the topic, the question still lingers in the back of her mind; the lamentation of the half-life he’s living with her, the thought that she is for the Winchesters. And sure, they all have baggage—it’s a packaged deal when it comes to hunting—but she is the only victim of the breakdowns, the pill taking, the therapist sessions that make her feel even less like anyone else.

Y/N feels tears prick at her eyes from time to time, battling them away to keep Dean from finding out, but her sniffles are what give her away. When he notices she’s crying, he’ll just wrap his arms tighter around her and pepper a kiss on the crown of her head.

And maybe it’s ridiculous and illogical, but that alone is enough to bring her tears to a standstill.

Sniffling, she rubs at her eyes and rests her hands on his chest.

“I…it’s…it’s a bit easier when you’re around.” She admits. Waits. The silence draws on, accentuated by the hoot of an owl and the shallow breaths of the elder Winchester.

She feels him shift beneath her and soon enough he finds her hand, bringing it up to rest on his chest.



Dean licks his lips, chest rising steadily beneath her ear. “I love you.” He manages. There is a poignancy to his voice that makes her heart wrench, but Y/N choses to hold herself together long enough to reply.

“I love you, too.”

“A lot. And I’m sorry that you have to go through this kind of crap….Trust me, if I could, I’d take the pain away. I wish I could.” A sigh leaves his lips as he cars a hand through his chestnut hair. “Sometimes….I don’t know….I feel really useless.”

“You do take the pain away.” Little bits of it—hell, before Dean joined her in bed she could barely even bring herself to drift off into a slumber, eyes dulled by the darkness of the room—and now, with him here, heart beating right beneath her, close enough to brace through the storm, there is a calm that settles over them. She can finally breathe a little better; see a little clearer, just enough to glimpse up and catch sight of the elder Winchester’s clenched jaw and strained expression as he watches the ceiling.

Head tilted up, she watches him. Something brews in her chest. Something warm and steady and sitting over her heart, making a home out of her ribcage. The light silting into the room bathes Dean in a silvery glow, and Y/N, feeling tears well in her eyes, reaches up and touches his face.

Her hand caresses the coarse stubble on his cheek. He doesn’t move. Shuts his eyes. Exhales. Some of the tension dies away at the touch of her skin and she scoots in closer, just enough for her face to hover over his.

“Dean…” Her fingers explore the constellations of freckles across his face; on the bridge of his nose onto the apples of his cheek, right down to his jaw where a little splatter of stars sits right at the juncture. “Please don’t ever think you’re useless to me, okay? Never. It’s hard—no shit—but…Damn it, Dean…” A hoarse laugh leaves her, sardonic and wet and wobbly. Y/N sniffles, shaking her head. “…you’re there, always…and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Okay?”

Dean nods stiffly, a smile playing at his lips. Sad. Strained. “Okay.”

“Never leave me…” Y/N finds his hand, holding her pinky up to his and linking them. “Promise me?”

Her glassy eyes meet with his, and he chuckles, the rumble reverberating onto her chest, drawing a small smile from her too. “Okay. I promise.”

It’s an oath, a vow that he has made to her over and over and in that moment, staring into his eyes, Y/N thinks of her therapist; of multi-colored pills in her bathroom cabinet, of all the promises and support of friends and family that have driven her this far in the journey…

And that is enough of confirmation of the brighter days ahead.


Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and/or follows mean the world. Requests are also open, so feel free to shoot me a message xX


Calum Hood - 1539 words

I am having Calum feels. Shush.


“It would be quite crazy if we ever met them, but still. I  mean – It’s not like we have a thousand chances to run into them. We get like one in a million chances.” I breathe out the smoke that I had willingly let enter my lungs briefly, my pointer finger tapping on the cigarette to get rid of the excess of ashes. My best mate, the one who had dragged me to a five seconds of summer concert to begin with, sits next to me, fumbling with the label of a bottle before twisting the cap and taking a sip. She holds it out to me but I shake my head briefly, indicating I wasn’t interested. I was parched, but I felt numb. I was so tired right now and I know she wanted to get to the car and get going, back home, more than an hour drive, but I just needed a few to just sit here, enjoy my smoke and calm the fuck down.

“I know, but it would be amazing, wouldn’t it? Something would go right in our lives.” I scoff as I take another drag, eyes focusing on an old man staggering along with a walking stick. He should know better than to take this route to wherever he was going with an arena filled with young people and not get run over. “There are many things that go right in our lives. We just have way to high hopes, everyone does. People are complaining about their shitty life until they win the lottery. Do you know that winning the lottery is a one in two hundred – going on three hundred million chance? I think I read that somewhere.” She cocks an eyebrow when I once again provide her with a useless piece of information, but sometimes I had a feeling my head was filled with those things. Useless crap.

I shoot my cigarette away and it lands just in front of a woman maybe in her mid-forties, a young child hanging on her arm. She grants me with one of those vicious mum glares and I shoot her an apologetic grin in return, although I am laughing at her dumb struck face. “Feeling better already?”
“Kind of. I don’t know what came over me. Probably the heat or something. Low blood sugar levels? I had a rough day at work.” I shrug my shoulders and dig through my coat pocket for my pack of smokes, tapping one out and holding the open pack to my mate. She gently declines and I dig for my lighter before she holds one out to me. I grin widely at her and shoot her a wink as I hold the fire in front of my face. “You should learn to take better care of yourself.”
“Who’s talking?” I scoff immediately in return and I’m ready to give her a lecture about taking care of oneself but I’m ever so kindly interrupted with a strong male voice.

“Excuse me, can I borrow your lighter?” I turn my head and a smirk immediately crawls onto my features, pushing my sunglasses down my nose so I could confirm what I saw without the filter. “Well, one in three hundred million seemed to work for us.” I chuckle as I hand Calum the lighter, his eyebrows furrowed before he stands back to his full height. I shoot my friend a glimpse over my shoulder and I see her staring wide-eyed.

“Were you at the concert?” Calum asks as he holds his lighter back out to me and I gingerly take it from his hands to hold it out to the staring girl next to me. She seems to get out of her trance and answers. “Yeah, great show you gave.” Calum drops himself next to me and I turn back to stare at the people passing us by, although by now there were slim to none. Calum chose a good time for a smoke. He probably already knew by now the girls would’ve all dispersed and gone home.
“Glad you enjoyed it. You from around here?” I shake my head and bring the cigarette back to my lips, inhaling before answering him properly. “No, an hour drive from here. Waiting for the traffic to simmer down.” I point towards the endless cars, standing still and waiting to get on the highway.

“That sucks. But at least it’s the weekend, right?” He chuckles and we both smile, the conversation cut short when another male voice appears from behind us. “Cal, we were going to order some pizza what do you want? Oh hi.” Michael smiles and waves as he spots both my friend and I and we wave back. I am silently awaiting what my friend would do, seeing as Michael was her favorite. I was staying fairly calm seeing as how my favorite was sitting right beside me. “Hi Mike, this is.. Shit I didn’t get your names.” He smiles at me and I think I might have actually made one of the faces my best friend always laughs at.

“I’m Y/BF/N and she’s Y/N.” I’m grateful for her swift answer because for a second I was out of this world and forgetting there was actually a question thrown my way. Calum tosses the last bit of his cigarette onto the street and raises back to his feet, dusting off his jeans before turning to Michael. “Well, that traffic isn’t going anywhere soon. You guys up for some pizza?” Calum smiles and I turn towards my best friend who gives me those eyes that mean are you even fucking asking you moron?!. So I turn back around and raise to my feet as well, throwing my smoke along where I’d flicked the other one off to. I nod my head at Calum and Michael waits for us until we’re at his side.

“So, you girls from around here?” Michael sparks up a conversation with my friend and I decide to just walk a thread slower, dangling behind them when I feel a warm presence besides me. “You’re a bit pale.” Calum states matter-of-factly and I can’t help but snort and shake my head just the lightest. “I didn’t have time to eat a proper dinner and I’m just feeling that.” I shrug my shoulder as I let him lead me through a thick, black door at the back of the arena and we’re met with gray cement walls that seem to go on forever.

“Then you’ll get a whole pizza to yourself!” Calum nudges my upper arm with his elbow and I push him away, chuckling lightly. Michael and Y/BF/N disappear through a door and I stop, letting Calum walk in first. Both Ashton and Luke’s heads are raised, eyebrows furrowed as they stare us up and down. “Guys, this is Y/BF/N and Y/N. They’re our pizza dates for tonight.”
“Ah, so you do this every night? Good to know. As long as the food’s free.” I huff out as I let myself fall down next to Calum in one of the sofa’s that are provided for the artist, Calum chuckling, shaking his head at me as he shows me his dimples.

“You’re such a pizza whore.” Y/BF/N shakes her head while laughing and I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, crossing one leg over another. “It’s just really really good.”
“So I’m ordering the usual and two extras? Luke stands to his feet, phone in hand as everyone shouts their consent. Luke disappears out of the room, phone already pressed to his ear as he mumbles our order.

“Let’s share things no one knows to get to know each other better. That’s way more fun than twenty questions.” Calum proposes and everyone seems to agree to it so he decides to go first. “I used Michael’s toothbrush twice already and Luke’s over five times by now.” He states and I have never seen Michael that pale before he shouts some obscene words towards his band mate. “You’re disgusting.” I whisper, keeping my eyes trained on the three other people in front of me. “At least my teeth were clean.” He grins back and winks and I bite my lip as soon as the gesture happens, cheeks flaring a bright shade of pink. “Y/BF/N, your turn.”

Y/BF/N turns towards me and smiles guiltily. “That time I puked in your bed, I knew I had done that. I just thought you’d be less mad if I faked ignorance.” My eyes widen and I hear Calum beside me gasp before bursting into hysterics, eyes clutched shut as his head disappears between his opened legs. “And you’re never sleeping in my fucking bed again! Did you know how horrible I felt because you were sick? Fuckin’ bitch!” I gasp, a small grin already crawling onto my cheeks as I try to hold in my laughter. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Next time I’m sick I’ll just puke all over your car instead of wanting to sit and get free pizza.”
“I think you should reconsider your statistics.” Y/BF/N smugly grins at you which sends you into a fit of giggles, all the boys left confused at prior conversations. This was once in a life time.

Let me know what you think!
Lots of love,
L. xox

My Best Friend - Three

Fandom: Teen Wolf

A/N: So I have decided to continue this series, but I don’t know how often I’ll update it. I have one more chapter ready after this one though. Thanks to my beta @thorne93 for reading this through. Also… feedback is highly appreciated.

Characters: Stiles x Reader, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Derek, Deaton.

Warnings: Some angst, some blood, some gore, and a bunch of smut (sex, oral, virgin sex)

Wordcount: 5174 (WOW… not even a little bit sorry… half of this is smut)

Catch up here

*Not my gif*

Originally posted by stallingdemons

Not too long after that, you were all standing in Derek’s loft, a plan ready, preparing to head out and search for this wolf.

You and Stiles headed out to a clearing in the woods, not too far from the road, to set up a trap, Lydia and Allison doing the same thing on the other side of the forest hoping Derek and Scott would be able to chase the wolf into one of them.

You made quick work of setting it up and then you hid behind some bushes. You pulled a small jar from your purse, pouring the content of it into your hand before throwing it up in the air, letting it form a perfect, black circle around the two of you as soon as it hit the ground again.

“Mountain ash,” you said as you saw the questioning look on Stiles’ face, even if you knew that he knew what it was.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I didn’t even think about that,” he said, looking at you in awe.

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks, so you dipped your head down to try and hide it from him. “It’s nothing,” you said, shrugging.

He hooked  finger under your chin to try and get you to look at him. “I don’t want you to hide from me,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful, especially when you’re blushing.”

You knew it was meant to comfort you, but it only made you blush even harder, luckily it wasn’t that noticeable in the dark night.

The two of you sat down on the ground inside the safety of the protective circle and waited, trying to stay as quiet as possible. As the time passed, it got increasingly colder and soon your hands had started shaking from the chill. Stiles noticed and scooted closer to you, wrapping one arm around you and taking both your shivering hands in his other one. You leaned into him and let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly to yourself as he rested his cheek against the top of your head.

“I never thought werewolf hunting would require so much waiting,” you joked after a while, the silence becoming too much for you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I made up an asexual blog and aphobes are harassing me on it lately when it got more popular. I didnt do anything wrong I dont harass or look down on non aces or other lgbt people or anything (I get messages like "You aces are ugly ugly ugly homophobes and transphobes!!!!") . I seriously lost all my inspiration for the blog and they suceeded in making me feel bad about my sexuality and mae me feel like I am unwanted and unworthy because of it.

Hello, Anons!

I’ve been waiting until I had two messages on the same subject, and what do you know, it’s asexuality!

First of all, your Slightly Aggressive Affirmer is asexual. And I’m super cool, in multiple ways, like a fucking sun smart polar bear who surfs the ice floes in sunglasses and sensible but stylish freakin’ hats. Therefore being asexual must also be ultra-cool. I am a scientist, and this is science fact I have decreed it!

Okay, but seriously though:

You are not a bad person or unworthy or unwanted. Having pride in your sexuality and trying to help others feel that pride too is awesome! It doesn’t mean that you’re “looking down” on anybody. Getting unprovoked messages saying that you’re homophobic or transphobic doesn’t make those things true. I’m sure there are some asexual people who are, because there are SO MANY different people in the world with different opinions. But your sexuality doesn’t automatically mean you hate anybody. If it did, there’d be no straight allies.

Also, there are asexual people who are trans (I personally know three) and there are asexual people who also identify as gay, because of their romantic orientation. And they can have asexual pride too. Some of them even run asexual blogs! So your attackers are coming at you with no fucking logic whatsoever, and it’s okay to ignore them.

Which brings me to a second point, and this ones for ALL THE BLOGGERS out there, not just the asexual ones:

You do NOT have to listen to or respond to hate. I know how it feels to get hateful messages, both here and on my personal blog. It really hurts and it’s so hard to ignore what people say. Most people have it built into us then when someone criticises us or our actions, we need to apologise or try to fix the situation. I think that’s why online hate hurts so much. It makes you feel that you have done something wrong, and your brain’s response to that is to try and fix things. And if the thing you’ve been told is wrong is a part of who you are, like your sexuality, it’s very hurtful because you know you can’t fix it.

But when someone sends you abuse for being who you are, it can help to remind yourself that you DO NOT need to apologise or fix yourself. They are the person who is doing something wrong. The fact you are being told you’re a bad person doesn’t make it true.

Imagine I’m in the supermarket, shopping for chocolate milk and cheesecakes, and a stranger came up and yelled in my face that I’m useless. That would be very distressing and frightening for me, but it wouldn’t actually be true. This total stranger doesn’t know me or anything about me (except maybe that I make poor dietary choices). Without knowing me, how would they know whether I’m useful or not? They don’t know that I’m always there to offer my friends a ride if they need one. They don’t know that I helped my friend move last weekend, driving my car and helping make sure each box went to the right place, because I wanted to make up for my physical inability to carry heavy boxes. They don’t know that I volunteer. Or that I run a blog dedicated to slightly aggressively affirming people.

The fact that the random stranger says I am useless does not mean that I am. Sometimes I feel like I am, so it might be difficult for me to deal with being told that. But strangers do not have any right to comment or make me feel bad.

The sad thing about the internet is that people CAN say these things, and they feel like they can do so, safely and anonymously. They feel much safer going to someone’s blog and accusing them of something than they would feel approaching randoms in a supermarket. This is true, even when they’re using their real name and identity, such as on Facebook. Studies into social media behaviour have found that people will say things online that they wouldn’t say in public, such as using racial slurs or making violent threats.

What this means to me is that people who attack you online are cowards. They won’t say these things in the outside world, but will say them if they feel there aren’t consequences.

So, to recap so far:

a) Being proud of your sexuality doesn’t make you a bad person.
b) Just because someone tells you you’re a bad person, doesn’t make it true.
c) People who attack other people on the internet are cowardly.

As for being asexual, well, here’s a little about that:

a) Asexual people are fab. I have decreed this.
b) Asexual people are not broken, damaged, inhuman or wrong.
c) All identities on the aro and ace spectrums are real and valid.
d) There’s all different kinds of people who are asexual. It’s as diverse as any other group. Some like sex and some don’t. Some like polka dots and others prefer stripes. There are aro-aces and panromantic aces and loads of other orientations in the middle. All of them are valid.
e) Because all aces are so different, no one can EVER make a judgement about who you are on the basis of your sexuality.

And f) because it’s important:

All your feelings about your asexuality (or any other orientation you might be) are valid. Asexual pride is great, but if you struggle to feel good about your asexuality, that is okay. If you wish you weren’t asexual, that’s just as valid as being full of pride. You’re not letting anyone down. It’s not your job to represent all asexual people. You can even have mixed feelings. Maybe sometimes you’re proud of who you are, and other times you feel lonely or useless and wishing things were different. That’s okay. Your feelings about your orientation are ALL valid.

YOU are valid, your sexuality is real, you’re not wrong or broken, you DEFINITELY DEFINITELY DO DESERVE LOVE (in whatever form you prefer, romance, friendship, etc). And being proud of your sexuality does not mean you look down on other people’s.


- The Slightly Aggressive Affirmer

(ps. if you don’t know @theasexualityblog, check it out. full of pride but also has the reassuring answers to your questions. and is super nice)

(pps. anon #2, i’ve queued some ace-pridey type affirmations for you and I hope they help)

Sometimes I feel so useless? I’ve been a loyal fan of Taylor for quite some time now, but it’s like I’ll never be the fan that truly deserves her love. I really want her to find me, to like me, to want to meet me in person, and I want to do my best trying like posting all the time and having multiple fanpages across social medias. But I’m also a very useless person, I don’t know how to keep my life together, I have so much school work and barely a social life, I’m sad all the time and Taylor makes me happy, but at the same time I can’t put her first above everything because if I don’t focus on school I’ll just feel more like a failure and be even sadder. And I really want to invest in having a fan page for her not just to get noticed, but because I love her so, so much, I owe her so much and I want to spread that, but I’m so incompetent. Sometimes I feel like such a useless fan because I hadn’t had a fan page for her since forever, I’ve always stood by her and loved her and defended her but I’m not some big account that’s been running since 2012 with 80k followers. It’s like if I choose to prioritise my school life I won’t be able to interact with the woman that brought and still brings me SO MUCH happiness, but if I choose to be on social medias more I’ll lose control over my personal life and I’ll just fall back into being completely useless. You mean the world to me, @taylorswift , you really do, and I want to show you that. But I’m just so bad at it. :(

random bios (requested).Please like/reblog if you use!

but it’s hard to admit how it ends and begins

he can never get enough,get enough of the one

on his face is a map of the world 

this is our time to own it so own it

baby we will born with fire n gold in our eyes

there is something different about you and i

i feel like I have knew you my whole life

there is beauty behind every tears you’ve cried

baby we will fall with fire n gold in our eyes

there is love inside this madness

though I don’t believe in magic i believe in me and you

it happens in the time it took to look back

slow down before today becomes our yesterday

don’t force yourself to fit in where you don’t belong

i wanna respect everybody’s opinion but some peoples opinions are just so terrible

so crazy to think that someone out there is wishing and waiting for someone just like you

time doesn’t wait for anyone do it before it’s too late.

how do i get a flat stomach by tomorrow

sometimes i feel useless but then i remember i breathe out carbon dioxide for plants

what is it like to not be tired i can’t remember

my favorite activity is pretending that i can sing

*ends up dating myself*

life tip: fuck off

im a hot mess minus the hot part

mood: i’d rather be sleeping

i wanna be a sweet person but people are dumb man

interrupt my sleep and I’ll interrupt your breathing

do you ever think about how bitchy and annoying you really are and wonder how anyone ever tolerates you

i have style im just too broke to prove it

*cares more about tv series than social life and grades*

can i sell my feelings on ebay

i really fucking cant believe i wasted so much time on people i dont even care about anymore

tired has become part of my personality at this point

do u ever wanna start ur diet but then u realize how good food is

omg im so unphotogenic what am i gonna do when i become a celebrity

*accidentally trips on low self esteem*

ur ugly personality will ruin ur good looks for me

at least i know nobodys using me for my looks

im allowed to call myself ugly but you are not allowed to agree with me

I like being alone I just don’t like feeling alone

I mained Kindred for the past few months, and I even got to Level 7. I know Riot wants to bugg them and make them an ADC in the jungle, but I’m sick of not being able to 1v1 other junglers or getting fed anymore, just because I’m really squishy and have no burst before level 6. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just useless except for my ultimate. I wish Riot never tried to buff Kindred at all.

Artwork by Inkinesss


The one where you and 10k fight because you do something dangerous and then he ends up hurting you.

Requested by @stawmay12 and an anon. I combined the two because they were similar, I hope you guys like it.

There were tons of them. What was considered a small herd of z’s looked like a huge one to the group and they were also surrounding the whole truck.

“There’s too many!” Yells Addy.

“Just keep going! How many rounds do you guys have?” Asks Warren over all the noise.






“I only have 3.” She says before popping her clip back in. “Murphy a little help?”

“There’s too many I already tried.” He says from inside the truck.

The group was trying to fix the truck’s flat tire when a “small” herd of z’s approached them from the woods. Everyone was trapped and to top it off they were almost out of ammo.

You feel one of the z’s grab you from where you’re standing on the bed of the truck and you quickly pike it. You feel yourself growing irritated and tired. Things have gotten too dragged on.

“There’s no way we can kill this many z’s with 14 bullets.” You say. “If you guys want to move then we’re gonna have to do this manually.” You pull out your katana and jump on the hood of the car.

“Y/n are you kidding me? Get down before you hurt yourself.” 10k says.

As he tries to make his way through the crowded truck bed you look back at him and the others. “Cover me. If im not back in 30 minutes and you fix the tire you leave. And if not you still leave.” You slide down the window and hood before making a run for it.

A group of z’s follow you and separate from the truck.

“Y/n wait!”

“10k it’s too late she’s not coming back just cover her.” Vasquez tells him.

He shoots whatever he can. His heart racing as he sees you go off alone with 3 bullets and a katana. He just hoped you’d make it back safely.
The forest was your first instinct. You could outrun them. And you could climb if needed. You just needed the group to have a manageable amount of z’s to work with.

You look back. Maybe one or two are hot on your heels but the rest seem to be falling behind a bit. You stop for a second and with one swift and quick motion heads have been spilt in half.

You keep running. That’s all you needed to do, you just needed to run and so you did. You ran until you could hardly breathe and until you felt like your lungs were going to collapse.

You turn back and see that there’s
nothing behind you. You stop to catch your breath and decide to wait a few minutes before walking back.

You lean against a tree for a little as you wait for your legs to stop shaking and when they do you begin your journey back.

“I swear sometimes this group doesnt do anything. How are you going to wait for z’s to disappear when you’re just standing there looking at them. You cant just close your eyes and say abra cadabra and expect them to disappear.” You say to yourself, a little annoyed at the situation.

“Give her 5 more minutes.” 10k says.

“She said half an hour. It’s been 45 minutes.”

“I said give her 5 more minutes.” 10k snaps at Vasquez.

“Cut the kid a break and let him have 5 more minutes.” Doc says.

You trudge tiredly and walk for what seems miles. With all the running and now the long distance you have to walk back, you were exhausted, but that was when you saw it. The truck.

“What the hell.” You whisper.

You step out of the woods and 10k immediately runs up to you.

“You waited?” You ask.

“Of course I waited.” He hugs you before pushing you back.


“Are you out of your mind?” He says almost yelling. “Are you trying to get yourself killed. How many more times are you going to do stupid stuff.”

You stumble back. His words becoming like a slap across the face. Your shock is replaced with anger. “Oh I’m sorry, but if it weren’t for my stupid stuff we would still be crowded on that stupid bed praying that the z’s would just disappear.”

“How long before you realize that all these little stunts are going to get you killed?” He says fuming

The group grows silent immediately. No one has ever seen 10k this mad. Everyone is still and no one dares to even blink.

“One of these days you’re going to run off thinking you’ll be lucky but you won’t be. You’ll be dead. You’ll run off and everyone would have to run after you, dropping everything to tend to you. Just cause you do stupid stuff that’ll kill you doesn’t mean we have to do it for you.” Every word he just said seemed to be dripped in venom.

“I didnt ask you to look after me. I didn’t ask you to care about me. And in cause you haven’t noticed, Im doing this for the group, so that you guys can move forward. You think I care what happens to me?Please 10k, have someone give you a wake up call.” You cross your arms and glare at him.

“Okay fine. You want to go and get yourself killed that’s alright with me. See if I care. Im tired of holding your hand and by sound of it so are you. So dont count on me anymore.”

You grow from angry to sad and you can see that he regrets what he just said. “Y/n.” He says.

You walk away. “Y/n stop.” He says and grabs your arm.

“Don’t touch me!” You yell. “You want nothing to do with me, you’ve made that clear.”

He doesn’t let go. “Y/n” he says softly once more. You begin to try to pull your arm back.

“Let go!” And so he does. And when he does you fall back so hard that you hit your head on the concrete. The impact knocks you out almost immediately.

You begin to wake up. Your sense of hearing seems to be the first thing you get back and that’s when you hear it.

“Wake up baby. Please wake up. Please please. I’m so terribly sorry, don’t leave me please.” It’s 10k. His forehead seems to be pressed up against yours and he’s whispering a bunch of apologies.

“Any change?” You recognize Warren’s voice.

“None.” Says Addy.

“The kid’s a mess. He’s been like this for 3 days and has refused to eat multiple times.”

“We’re going to have to pike her.” Vasquez says. “She could turn and if not at least strap her down or something. Either way we need to keep moving, we’ve given her a enough time.”

“I for once agree with this thick headed imbecile.” Says Murphy.

“Alright that’s enough.” Warren speaks. “We need to settle this.”

You hear the sound of approaching footsteps. “10k.” She says softly.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t react. He’s still whispering incoherent apologies.

“10k.” Warren tries again. “10k, we’re going to need to mercy her.”

You feel him remove his forehead from yours. You think he’s glaring at them.

“No.” He says. “Don’t you dare.”

“10k honey.” Addy says soothingly. “10k there’s been no change with her. Her pulse is still weak and she hasn’t moved.”

“There’s still a pulse.” He snaps. “Weak. But it’s still there. She’s a trooper and no one is touching her.”

“Listen 2k. I get you’re in love and all but we need to get this over with. We have stuff to do and places to be. We can’t put our lives on hold for you and an almost dead girl.”

He grabs something beside you so quick and you assume it’s a gun from the sound of what you thought was the safety. “I don’t have to take orders from anyone. Let alone you. And last I recalled we all put our lives on hold for you. You have no say, you’re just merchandise that’s getting dropped off.”

“10k.” Warren.

“No one touches her!” He shouts. “If you want to leave go ahead. But no one touches her or mercies her unless it comes to that.”

“It’s already come to that kid.” Doc says. “For all we know she could have brain damage.”

“I dont care. If you need to leave then just leave already you have my permission. Just stop hassling us.”

“Fine.” Warren sighs. “We leave tonight.”

You feel his hand grab yours and you try to squeeze it. You can’t, but you can wrap your fingers around his and so you do.

“Y/n?” He asks. “Y/n? Can you hear me.”

Your eyes flutter open. His blue eyes stare back at you. “Hey there.” You say hoarsely. The group snap their heads your way.

“Y/n!” He laughs. “Thank god you’re okay.”

You try to sit up. “No no. Baby relax tell me what you need.”

“Water.” You croak.

Addy rushes to hand 10k a water bottle. He tilts your head back with one hand and holds the bottle for you with another.

“Guys can we have some privacy.” You ask softly. They nod and smile at you before waiting elsewhere.

“Look.” You say. “About the things I said. I’m sorry.”

“Stop.” He says. “Stop. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all my fault and I shouldnt have said any of that stuff. I was hurt and upset. You ran off and I didn’t know if you’d be back or not.”


“No y/n listen. You have been with us for so long. So so long. Ive loved you since the first day and I cant imagine just not having you around. I never know when you’ll be back or if you’ll even back. I cant risk loosing you, I’m always afraid for you and I hate myself for not being able to protect you all the time.”

“You said you loved me. You’ve never said that to me before.” You smile.

“No, but I’ve always known I do.”

“Look 10k. I get that I do stupid shit. I really know I do, but sometimes I just i don’t know. Sometimes I feel so useless around here, that doing that stuff is what makes me feel like I finally contributed.”

“You contribute all the time y/n. And besides there’s other things to help with you don’t have to risk your life for us.”

“You mean like you do for me and the others?”

He rubs his temples. “That’s different.”

“No. It’s not. You do it cause you love me and the group, right?” He nods. “Okay then I don’t see why I can’t keep you guys safe either.”

“You’re keeping me safe by leaving me alone. By putting yourself in danger.” He says.

“10k this world has always been filled with danger. Theres just more now. I never leave you alone, I’m always with you. Physically or not, I’m there. I get where you’re coming, but this is how I contribute and how I protect you. And also you not eating isn’t helping anyone.”

“Me not eating?”

“Mhm.” You look at him sternly. “I heard what doc said.”

“You heard all that?”

“Yes. And thank you. For you not. Giving me a chance.” He smiles and strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“Dont ever say I want nothing to do with you ever.” He leans down a presses a kiss to your forehead.

You reach up and sweep his hair to the side. You smile. “I love you too.”

A/n: Just a little exercise for my fingers. First ShikaTema fic. For midorichan12 because she’s my one and only ShikaTema buddy ever. Post-manga. Can also be found on my FFN.

Summary: Shikamaru and Temari having a marital spat: “You are underestimating me, Shikamaru, and I’m not liking it one bit.” Post-manga.

troublesome arrangement

Shikamaru was sitting on their bed while watching her gather some clothes from their closet before stuffing them inside her knapsack. She then proceeded to secure her weapons and other objects that would be useful for the mission. He could see the way Temari went about the preparation. Her fluid movements and light steps to and fro were indications of her enthusiasm for the said mission. He became perceptive of the shift in her aura because he was aware of how Temari had been trying to cope with their new life together in Konoha. He knew that she had to sacrifice a lot of things in the process.

While her staying in Konoha wasn’t much of an issue since the two villages were allies anyway, her staying at their home almost permanently was something he knew she had tried putting up with. To make things worse, unbeknownst to her, he himself had done his best to keep her at home and at Konoha as much as possible. Until this moment, he had been trying to keep her out of missions.

He got up and walked over to her, hoping he could still talk her out of this. But before he could even lay a hand on her shoulder, she had already rounded on him, holding a glare.

“You can’t tell me otherwise,” she said while folding her arms.

Shikamaru sighed and took a step forward. “Then I’ll go with you. I’ll talk to Naruto.”

“This is my mission. I can handle this alone,” she answered decidedly before returning to preparing her mission kit.

He scratched the back of his head before he began. “I’m not saying you can’t handle this – ”

“Really? Then why haven’t I been tasked to any mission until now? If I didn’t force it out of Naruto, I wouldn’t know that it was your doing all along! You are underestimating me, Shikamaru, and I’m not liking it one bit,” she spat.

It had been his plan all along to keep her in the dark. Ever since their marriage, he had been asking Naruto to double – even triple, if need be – the number of missions he would get in exchange for not sending Temari to any. Naruto was of course reluctant about it, reasoning that Temari, being a powerful figure in Suna would never want to be downplayed. Naruto proposed that he could just let her take D or C-rank missions, but Shikamaru still heavily disagreed to this suggestion. He explained his side, and Naruto immediately understood.

He made a move to touch her, but she slapped his hand away, daring him to fight her with his logic.

“I’m not doubting your ability, if that’s what you mean,” he shrugged.

“I know. But I’m still a ninja just like you! I’m not one to stay put just because…just because I’m a wife now.” Her words trailed away as she avoided his gaze.

Shikamaru was ready to drop the argument for now. Having a marital spat was troublesome, but upsetting Temari was unforgivable. It also didn’t help that she just touched a raw nerve. He had known all along that Temari was uncomfortable with the changes brought about by their marriage but having her confirmed his anxiety was nonetheless damaging.

He started towards the door, but Temari was quick to stop him.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she spoke softly.

He shook his head. “No matter what you say, I’m going with you.”

He looked into her eyes before his gaze settled on her small yet positively growing tummy. His expression softened. “You’re carrying our child now.”

Temari, however, took offense in this and got cross with him again.

“I just have to escort someone! This is not even a mission. You think I won’t be able to protect my own child? Who do you think I am?”

He let out a frustrated sigh because clearly, Temari was missing the point. “Damn it, Temari, why do you always have to be so stubborn?

"And why do you always have to be such a coward?”

Shikamaru was visibly taken aback and was about to hide his face away from Temari. But he felt something warm touching his cheeks, and there he saw her cupping his face, willing him to look at her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She began rubbing her thumb against his skin, and as much as he would like to relish her touch, he had to pull away because Temari wasn’t wrong after all. He was indeed a coward.

He looked at her and wore a thin smile before conceding his weakness. “But I am. I trust your ability to be able to protect yourself and our child. But I can’t risk it, Temari. I just can’t let you out of my sight.”

He shook his head at himself before he held her gaze again.

“Please let me protect you and our child just this once. I know that our arrangement is…so troublesome. Forgive me for dragging you into this, but I promise you’ll have all the freedom you want after you – ”

Temari just tapped his cheek lightly before reaching out and pulling him down until their foreheads touched. He instinctively supported her by snaking his arm around her waist, securing her against him.

“You idiot, I don’t regret getting dragged into this. I don’t regret anything. But I’m sorry sometimes I just feel so useless not being sent to missions. I was always in the battlefield, you know. I guess being a wife and now a mother does take some getting used to.”

She flashed him her signature grin, and he just had to close the little distance between them and kiss her softly. They stayed like that for a while before he embraced her fully and nuzzled her neck affectionately.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be this great, super scary mom,” he whispered.

Temari just laughed and slapped his arm playfully. “You’ll see I’ll be a scarier wife.”

Shikamaru released her and tilted her chin up. “I can’t wait,” he teased with a gleam in his eyes.

Temari smirked before leaning in. Of course, she was never one to back down from a challenge.


It's Only a Dream

Pairing: Nicomaki

Word Count: 5309

Summary: Elegant dresses, extravagant dance halls, formal dancing that takes your breath away; for as long as she could remember, Nico dreamed of the sensation of being swept off her feet, gliding across a dance floor that was meant to make unforgettable memories. But for Nico, this was only ever a dream. 

Note: A thing I never expected would exist outside my daydreams. Inspired by this. Dedicated to my fav rectumlord 8) 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

this is the prev white anon again, thank you for answering the message!!!! i was wondering if you could tell me what maybe someone who is white could do to help the race situation? sometimes i feel useless in a situation cause i dont want someone to assume that i think they cant stand up for themselves, and then i just dont do anything. i want to help in all the ways i can without being an ass about it (if that makes any sense) thank you again!!!!

Oh my gosh! What an amazing question! I’m honestly a little taken aback by it. Which is refreshing. I think one of the main things is…I feel as though African Americans aren’t seen as equals. African Americans are treated as a group of people to be either pitied or feared and thats the way conversations with a lot of ignorant people end up becoming racist. When the truth of the matter is we are human beings just like everyone else! So talk to us as such! I mean goodness I think and eat and do everything else any other 20 something year old does! Why should race come up in a negative way at all? Thats always been a mystery to me. Secondly when we are sharing with you a negative racial experience we’ve just encountered, BELIEVE US! We’re not just making this up! We don’t just use the “race card” for fun! It sucks! I’m not saying people haven’t abused their racial situation for attention (and those individuals are the worst! This is not a joke!!) but for the most part they are confiding in you because they are hurting and they want you to understand their pov. So be quite, and listen. Don’t always side with the aggressor. There are so many times where my friends have told me “Oh Aphton they didn’t mean that” or “Oh come on you are just being sensitive.” and it has been so hurtful! I know its hard to believe racism still goes on everyday and you automatically want to reject this information, but in the end you are doing more harm than good.  So lastly, after you’ve done both things, you’re treating everyone like they are equals and you’ve listened to their hurt, whats next? If you are in a situation were racism is happening stand with your friends! Speak up! If an ignorant White friend (or whatever race, racism isn’t just black and white) is saying something rude or disrespectful or just straight up stupid, say something. You don’t have to put them on blast. We are not trying to hurt anyone, just teach. A simple. “Hey man check what your saying thats not accurate.” or “Dude, stop what your saying. You’re being racist!” is all it takes. And if they are confused explain why. Because racism is an issue for every American. It should not just be a  black mans issue. Racism makes our nation ugly so we should try to stop it when we see it.  Thank you so much for this question!  Its so important we work together to live in harmony. :) 

Show Me I'm Your Everything//Calum Hood AU Shot

A/N: Once again an AU made me lose my shit and I felt the overwhelming need to elaborate just to make me hate myself more. This time is is boxer!Calum and give my drug dealer!Ashton one a read? Please?

It became smutty. And it’s only my second one, so no scathing reviews.

Keep reading

I know sometimes she feels utterly useless. But I try to see the light. The memory of the fantastic times we have had; the knowledge that she loves me unquestionably and the hope that one day she will get over this and be happy and “normal.” I honestly believe she can overcome this.

I feel I must try to understand. I must try to be patient and supportive. But there have been times when it has all been a bit too much for me, when I am fed up of being used as a punchbag (not literally), where I think to myself that I would be better and happier on my own. I would be lying if I said these thoughts never crossed my mind.

It’s hard being in a relationship with someone who suffers from BPD. But it is nowhere near as hard as being the one with BPD. My girlfriend is not a burden, her BPD is. Our relationship is a molehill compared to the mountain of a struggle she has to go through to try to overcome her condition. We have shed may tears together, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that I am quite emotional right now.

—  The Roller Coaster Ride of Loving Someone with BPD

pairing: f!shepard/garrus
length: 1218 words
complete: yes
summary: Garrus hadn’t been aware just how close Shepard was to breaking until after Thessia falls.


Shepard covers her head with the pillow. “What, Garrus? I’m trying to sleep here.” 

“Are we really not going to talk about what happened down there?”

She freezes, then sits up, turning to face him. “Why? What’s the point? We both know what happened.”

Her eyes are red and her hands are shaking, even now, hours after. Garrus reaches out to steady them, and she doesn’t pull away.

“I wasn’t there, Shepard,” he responds quietly. “The only things I know are what you said during the briefing.” 

“Yeah, well,” her hands clench into fists. “There’s a good reason for that.” 

“Care to enlighten me?” 



Keep reading