i have the mind of a 15 year old

6

This is my new mustang. His tag number was 5118, he’s a six year old gelding, and he’s around 15 hands tall. He’s a liver chestnut with a beautiful little streak of a stripe down his face, white feet, and the head of a dinosaur.

It happened exactly the way I worried it wouldn’t but knew it would. My group and I (TIP trainer, my sister, me) went into the second gelding pen. I already had a few good looking horses in mind from the first, and then I see this face. We basically locked eyes and -confetti jazz hands- he came to investigate, and followed our group around, and gently nibbled my fingers. It was perfect.

  • Kirk: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life.
  • Chekov: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.
  • Bones: My sense of adventure! I haven't seen this in 15 years!
  • Uhura: Peace of mind? I knew I lost that somewhere!
  • Sulu: Mental stability, my old friend!
  • Kirk: Guys, could you lighten up a little?
Better Than Candy

| Request: “okay okay
so (y/n) is an old friend of phil’s (or dan’s it doesn’t matter) and she comes to visit
they’re wrestling or something fun like that and y/n says "fuck, phil(or dan still doesn’t matter) you’re stronger than I remember”
something triggers his mind and he wants to have sex and yeah" |

| Warnings: Smut |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s been so long.” He spoke softly.

“Too long.” She replied.

Dan had came into contact with a childhood friend, [Y/N], and 15 years later, they’re reunited once more.

Now they lay silently on the floor of Dan’s flat, staring up at the crystal chandelier.

“Hey Dan.” [Y/N] spoke, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?”

“Remember when we used to arm wrestle on Halloween to see who got all the candy?”

Dan sat up, looking over at her as she too sat up.

“You’re on, [Y/L/N].”

“Bring it, Howell.”

They stood, walking over to the table in the flat, taking seats across from each other, each of them putting their right elbow on the table and interlocking their hands.

They stared at each other for what seemed like ages, fighting to win.

But suddenly, Dan saw [Y/N] in such a different light.

He saw how her baby face had matured, how her body curved, how soft her lips looked, he was completely distracted.

And he was losing.

And that was not about to happen.

Dan used every ounce of strength to push her arm over.

“Oh piss off, Howell.” She groaned, her arm pinned to the table by Dan’s.

He just chuckled at her, noticing his cheeks heating and making an lousy excuse of having ‘strained a muscle.’

“Fuck,” [Y/N] mumbled. “You’re a lot stronger than I remember, Dan.”

Dan’s face went a deeper shade of red. Once again he made an excuse of it being from the arm wrestling.

“I’m gonna go get a drink.” He said, bolting off to the kitchen and downing a pint of tap water.

He returned to the lounge once he felt as if his face was cool enough.

“So Dan,” She spoke as soon as he sat beside her on the sofa. “If we were kids I’d get your Halloween candy, but now that we’re older, what’s my prize?”

For the third time, Dan’s cheeks went red.

He looked over at her, her [E/C] eyes sparkling, a smirk upon her lips.

“This.” He said, leaning in and pressing his chapped lips to her soft ones.

She was shocked, but not angry, in fact, she was a little happy about it.

Sure, when she was 8 and Dan was 10, she thought boys were gross, and even now looking back, she’d have never liked Dan at that age anyway.

But now, things were different. Puberty did well by Dan Howell, making him slim and tall, making his chubby face more handsome, his voice deepened, and his personality had improved so much.

He was basically a walking aphrodisiac.

She kissed him back, leaning into his touch as he placed his left hand on her cheek, his other resting on her knee. Her arms lifted to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

His lips detached from hers, earning him a soft whine and a pout, but as soon as he saw it, he attached his lips to her neck, which caused a loud moan to escape her pink lips.

Dan traced gentle love bites across her neck, already marking her as his own.

“Dan, bedroom, now.” [Y/N] mumbled out between moans. Dan’s hands went to her bum, sliding under it and lifting her up.

Dan swore he heard a quiet 'Wow’ escape her lips.

He carried her into his room, laying her on his bed before walking back over to the door and locking it.

He made his way back to her, once again locking his lips onto hers. Her arms wrapped around his back, feeling the slight muscle through the fabric of his black tee.

He broke the kiss, standing over her and pulling his shirt off, the soft lighting hitting his pale chest just right.

He then worked on his jeans, fidgeting with the button before sliding them down and kicking them off, the only bit of clothing left being his boxer briefs.

[Y/N] sat up, reaching to pull off her own shirt, but Dan stopped her, pulling it off himself, taking her bra with it.

He pushed on her chest, making her lay back down, and he removed her jeans.

Both of them left in only their underwear.

Dan laid next to her on the bed, pulling her onto him, reattaching their lips again.

He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, and when her lips opened to moan, Dan slid his tongue in her mouth, heating up the kiss.

He moved his kisses down to her shoulder, locking his plump lips into the skin, sucking on it and leaving a large, purple hickey.

His large hands slid down her body, hooking his index fingers in her panties and pulling them off, rolling her onto her back again and doing the same to his underwear.

“Are you sure?” He spoke.

“Yes, Dan.” She replied.

He reached over to his nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out a condom, ripping the small packet open with his teeth, sliding it onto his hard member.

He grabbed her legs, standing between them and placing himself at her entrance, slowly pushing in. A soft moan escaping each of their lips.

He began thrusting slowly, picking up speed as he went. Their hands interlocked. Their foreheads pressed together, watching the pleasure cross each other’s faces. Soft kisses stolen every so often.

“Fuck.” Dan groaned through gritted teeth, nearing his climax.

“Dan, baby, cum for me.” [Y/N] said, grabbing Dan’s cheeks and placing chaste kisses on his lips.

He reached his climax, and the intensity caused [Y/N] to reach hers as well, Dan rode out both of their orgasms, collapsing onto
[Y/N], panting and sweaty.

She wrapped her arms around him, softly stroking his now curly hair with one hand, and rubbing his shoulder with the other.

“Hey Dan?” [Y/N] eventually spoke, breaking the long silence.

“Mhm?” He mumbled sleepily.

“That was way better than candy.”

So I’ve had this one customer who always comes up to me and like insists on waiting for me even if I’m super busy and my coworkers are free. He makes jokes about me being his girlfriend, about how we’ll run away together, and I just have to smile cause that’s my job, and my manager told me it wasn’t big enough to make a complaint out of. Keep in mind, I’m a 17 year old girl and he’s a man in his mid-50s. Last week, he comes in, talks to me for a good 15 minutes about his divorce, and once I’m done helping him he tries to pull me in for a hug. I duck around and get the hell out of there. Then, that night, when I get home I have a facebook message from a stranger. ‘Are you the [my name] who works at [store]?’ And I click the profile picture and it’s that guy. So I ignore it and go on with my life. Two days ago, he shows back up and finds me. Our store’s really big, idk how he keeps tracking me down. He asks me to get him something off a high shelf, even though he’s got a solid six inches on me, but I put on my customer service smile again and stretch onto my tiptoes to reach it, and when I do, he hugs me from behind and puts his hands on my chest. I scream, he runs, and two of my coworkers find me. When I tell my manager, he agrees that a line has been crossed, so we call the cops, and file a report. That night, when I go out to my car, I see a figure at the edge of the parking lot, and I get freaked out, go back in, and have one of my coworkers walk me out. Yesterday, the whole day goes by without an incident, but my coworker walks me out again to be safe. We get to my car, and I’m about to get in the driver’s side door when I see my coworker waving his hands, mouthing ‘no’, and gesturing for me to get back inside the store. I look around, and see through my back window, the creepy customer is LYING ON MY BACKSEAT. From the angle, I don’t think he can see either of us, so I loudly say that I forgot my jacket, and have to go back for it, while my coworker’s already dialing 911. We walk back to the store and it takes all of two minutes for the cops to show up (we’re near the police station) and arrest him. Turns out he had chloroform, duct tape, and a box of condoms in the car with him.

TL;DR Creepy customer got obsessed with me, escalated from hugging to stalking to planning to kidnap and rape me, got arrested. And yes, I’m already in the process of filing for an order of protection. Always check your backseat before you get in your car.

Ten Minutes (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)

I DO NOT OWN GIF | WORD COUNT : 

PROMPT?:  Could you write something about older!Damian Wayne (like around 15/16 years old) having his first crush and being quite harsh with her at the beginning? Maybe he could ask Dick some piece of advice? 😏😂

A/N: Awww this prompt literally made my mind spin with ideas. I was so excited to write this when I saw it. Also, my first Damian Wayne!!

WARNINGS: older!damian, cursing, (light) abuse and fluff 

You sat as Alfred stitched you up again, scowling at the boy. Who technically  wasn’t that much of a boy anymore, since your first meeting a few years back. He was so angry, so small and so hateful, like anything had changed. “You know maybe if you trained harder-” he scoffed, making you almost jump out of the chair, Alfred and Dick both springing into action to hold you back. “Sorry I wasn’t trained by Ra’s Al Ghul-” you snapped, seeing him flip his sword back and forth. “Me too.” he promptly walked out, a smirk just urging you to beat the shit out of him. Just once, to prove the little shit wrong, even if he wasn’t so little now. 

Keep reading

2

You’re about 12-15 years old in this :)

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IMAGINE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!!
____________________________________

Reid looks over at you from where you sit huddled in a chair with a blanket around you as JJ speaks to you comfortingly. “What’s gonna happen to her now?” He asks.

The police chief of (your town) sighs. “She’ll have to go into Foster Care or an orphanage. I feel terrible, (y/n)’s a good kid.”

But the agent’s already gone and walking toward you. He sits down in the chair next to yours. “Hi, (y/n), I’m Reid.”

You look at him warily. “You’re one of those FBI guys.” He nods. “How did they die?” You whisper, tears forming in her eyes.

JJ gives Reid a desperate look, telling him this isn’t the first time you’ve asked this question. He looks back at you and takes your hand. “They died protecting you, which is everything any parent could ever wish for. They went peacefully.”

You nod, tears falling freely now. “Are they-” you choke, unable to get the words out. JJ tightens her arm around you.

But Reid understands. “They’re in a better place now.”

You nod, and he squeezes your hand one last time before standing up with JJ to talk alone. He looks back over at your shaking figure before saying, “JJ, I can’t just let her go to an orphanage.”

“But, Spence, she has no family members who can or will take her in.” The blonde argues. “Where else can she go?”

He looks her in the eyes. “With me.”

Her eyes widen. “You can’t be-”

“I’m completely serious, JJ. There’s just something about her. I need to take care of her. Make sure she’s okay.” He explains, looking back at you.

“But Reid, you’re talking about adoption. That’s not just making sure she’s okay, that’s making sure she’s okay forever.” JJ tries to reason.

But his mind was set.
____________________________________

One year later
____________________________________

“Hi, (y/n), how are you?” Garcia squeal so, hugging you as you walk into the BAU offices with Spencer.

You laugh, hugging her back. “I’m good, Garcia.”

“Good.” She says, before walking with you and Spencer to say hi to the rest of the team.

Ever since your parents died, and Reid took you in, your life has been completely different. While Spencer is your legal guardian, you see him more as an older brother then a father. But, you love him all the same.

The BAU team has become your new family. They helped set up a school for you to go to in DC, and when Spencer was gone on cases, you would stay with Garcia who usually stayed at the base.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sight of the rest of the team standing over a cake on Reid’s desk. “Happy Birthday, (y/n)!” They yell, smiling at your shocked face. How do they even know your birthday?

“Thanks, guys!” You say, exchanging hugs with everyone. Even Jack, Henri, and Will are present for the surprise party. “This means so much.”

“Well, don’t give us the credit, this was the boy-genius’s idea.” Rossi says, smiling.

Turning around, you look at Reid who has his hands in his pockets, smiling. Rushing forward, you pull him into a hug. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

He hugs you back, kissing the top of your head. “I love you too.”

Pulling away, you turn back around to Garcia strapping a birthday hat on your head and Prentiss handing you a piece of cake. Laughing, you take it and hug the woman with one arm.

Looking around the room, you see JJ and Will giving Jack and Henri pieces of cake, while Rossi and Hotch eat quietly, laughing as Jack manages to get frosting all over his face. Spencer is laughing at something Prentiss said, and Garcia stands by Morgan, both flirting with each other as they eat.

You smile, grateful for your new, slightly dysfunctional family.

Breakdown

I love your writing finished all of it in one day! 😅 anyway I was wondering it you could write about hotch having 15 year old daughter and she has to take care of jack while he’s out on cases and one day she just explodes out of pressure and breaks down in front of him or something like that. THANK YOU 😬😄

Oh my gosh, thank you so much!  Here is your story, and I hope you enjoy it!  Here it is, comin’ ‘atcha!

(The last day to pre-order is here!  Information for the book is here!)


“Sweetheart,” Hotch whispers as he cracks your door open, “sweetheart, daddy’s gotta leave.”

Feigning sleep, you stretch as if you are just waking up as you blink your tears back into their rightful places.

You were so sensitive to your father’s phone ringtone that it physically induced anxiety whenever it went off.

“Dad?” you groan as you turn over.

“I love you, kiddo,” he muses lowly as he kisses your head, “take care of Jack.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

But you knew sometimes he could be gone for weeks at a time.

And you braced yourself for the nights Jack would look for your dad and have to settle for you.


“Here, Jack.  This’ll make you feel better.”

Helping your brother take some medicine for his sleep, you hear the timer for the stove go off as the chicken broth begins to bubble up.

“Let’s let it cool down for a second and then you can drink some,” you call back behind you.

“Where’s dad?  I want dad,” Jack whines.

“I know, Jack,” you mumble as you ladle some into a cup.  “He’ll be home soon.”

“But I want daddy…” Jack says as he sniffles.

“I know,” you admit as you choke back tears of your own, “…so do I, buddy.”


Three days of a growing fever, two episodes of projectile vomit, and a trip to the doctor later, Jack was admitted into the hospital for childhood pneumonia, and your hands were beginning to shake as the doctor looked around for a consenting adult.

“Is my brother gonna be alright?” you ask as your voice trembles.

“He’ll be just.  Fluids and tylenol for the fever and dehydration, and some antibiotics for the infection and fluid in his lungs.”

But the doctor still looked around and came up empty.

“Y/N!?” you hear your father yelling as he turns down the hallway.

Oh, thank god.

“Y/N,” your father breathes as he bends down and wraps his arms around you.

But you refused to hug him back.

After your father talks with the doctor and talks with Jack for a while, you sit in the corner with your arms crossed as you stare at your feet.

It was the sound of a chair sliding across the floor that pried your eyes up from the ground.

Your father’s eyes could always tear you down when it was necessary.

And suddenly, the tears flooded down your cheeks.  Your body began to tremble and your chest began to hiccup, and as your father went to wrap his arms around your neck, you reared back and began to yell.

“This is your fault!” you roar.

The startled look on your father’s face only spurred you on.

You are the one gone all the time for work, and you are the one that relies on your 15 year old daughter to raise her brother!  When Jack got sick, he cried for you at night, dad!  And were you there to help him!? No!  I was!  Mommy sister, the one fulfilling mom’s role because you can’t stand to be around us!”

The tears that crept into Aaron’s eyes were lost on you as you continued to yell at your father.

“So you leave whenever anyone needs you to do a job or fill out paperwork or sub on a team, and you leave me to deal with this house!  To clean, a-a-and cook, and deal with Jack’s teachers and make sure he gets to and from school.  Did you know that there are days where I don’t even go to school because I’m so tired from running this house!?”

“You what?” Aaron breathes.

“But you don’t care.  You’re not even here to pick up the phone when the school calls to say I wasn’t there!”

Your chest was heaving with your sobs and your body was visibly shaking as tears trickle down your father’s cheeks.

“You don’t care that whenever I hear your phone ring my palms start to sweat…” you whine as you close your eyes and try to control your breathing.

Aaron’s heart was breaking, and he didn’t know what to do.

Because the truth of the matter was…you were right.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out as you open your eyes and slowly pan them up to his face.

“Yeah.  Until your phone rings again,” you mumble.

And like clockwork, his pocket began to jingle.

He watched your expressions and studied your body.  He watched the panic roll behind your eyes as you clenched your fists to keep your sweaty palms from his view.

What a terrible father he had been.

And when he picked up his phone to answer David’s question of how Jack was doing, a massive smile of relief rolled across your face as you listened to your father say, “Dave, I could use a favor.  Could you fill out some vacation paperwork for me?  You know how to sign ‘em.”

In the near future...

FBI: Miss, we found some questionable material on your computer…
Me: *thinking* Oh shit, all that music I illegally downloaded back in middle school…
Me: *out loud* I don’t know what you’re talking about.
FBI: May we come in?
Me: *thinking* FUCK! How did they find out! It’s been like ten years and at least five pcs since…
Me: *out loud* It’s cool, I have nothing to hide
FBI Agent: *opens laptop* Would you mind explaining this?

Me: *sweats nervously*
FBI: You do realize this is a 15 year old, right?
Me: I don’t know how that got there!
FBI: Riiiiiight

Honestly people defending memefacturing really need to rethink what they’re saying. When i was sexually assaulted (by a 15 year old, mind you) people did the exact same thing. It takes a lot of courage to come out and say that something as horrible as this happened to you. Its a fragile bravery; one that can be easily broken by the shit people have been saying. Just please put yourself in their shoes. How would you feel if your abuser was being defended? Also, memefacturing was 15, well old enough to realize what they were doing is wrong. I mean, the fact that they deleted is proof that they are guilty. May i also remind you that they linked one of their victims to literal child porn. My stance on pedophiles is the exact same as it ever was, and i cant tell you how hard it is to act as diplomatically as i have been.
Tl;dr please stop defending memefacturing.

I know I’m all over the place lately but I need to talk about personality split and if anyone can tell me more about theirs I’ll be really grateful.

My mind split when I was 15 years old, I haven’t realized it had happened right away, i was convinced I’m dealing with an imaginary friend and that I must have made it all up, I mean at that point I thought I made up all my problems due to constant invalidation so this was just one more thing I made up, right? But I couldn’t explain how it was possible that I sometimes hear two lines of thoughts in my head and of them wasn’t mine, it wasn’t thoughts I’d ever think of, it was a viewpoint, opinions, feelings and words I never developed or generated, I couldn’t figure out where all this was coming from, this person hated people who I loved, they had extreme ideas about what should be done and surprisingly positive attitude about me, who was at that point filled with self loathing.

It wasn’t random, my mind splitting was triggered by a certain event, I remember feeling like everyone wanted me dead except one friend I had, who had my full trust, and then this friend did something incredibly cruel, that pretty much made it clear they wanted me dead as well, and this broke me, so I went suicidal, past the point of what I could control, I remember my hands trying to wrap around my own throat and me barely managing to cut it out, and then, I wasn’t in control of my body anymore, someone else was, and this other person was very clear that we’re not committing suicide. And since then every time my intentions of dying became strong, or my lack of self care was bringing me into a dangerous state, the other one would take over and make sure I was safe. I was pissed at first. Last thing I needed was another person controlling what I did or didn’t do, and stopping me from doing what I wanted, even if that was dying, but eventually I learned to appreciate that someone was keeping me alive, since nobody around me would actually put any effort into stopping me from dying. I befriended the other one. They thought I was alright the way I am.

I haven’t realized this until recently, but even as a kid I kept doing dangerous things hoping it would lead me to death. As a 7 year old I would eat wood, plastics, paper, gums, graphite, grass and any other thing I hoped would get me poisoned. Then as a teenager, I would run down the stairs manically, while holding a knife pointed vertically into my neck, if I had fallen, it would have looked like an accident, like I accidentally fell onto a knife, and it would turn into “this is why children shouldn’t run with scissors” lesson and people wouldn’t think I’m selfish for dying. Once my mind split, all of this behaviour stopped. I was completely denied to do any life-threatening thing to myself, and was forced to make peace with it, death was no longer an option. Sometimes this threw me into complete despair, sometimes I felt a bit happy that at least someone wanted me to live.

My other personality was pleased with themselves constantly, had different sense of clothing than I did, would get angry at me for failing to be self centered and selfish, and had a very low opinion of everyone else. Hated my best friend intensely, and the rest of my family as well. They had a completely different view of events, and have somehow developed complex ideas, opinions, constructs and realizations that I have never thought of, even much later in life it took me months of thinking before I reached any of them. They can read my mind, but I can’t read theirs. They’re ahead of me with everything. Most of the trauma I went through didn’t touch them. I couldn’t relate to them at all and yet they seemed to understand me and thought I was fine the way I am.

I don’t want to integrate because I still don’t think I’ll be able to survive without them. I’m dissociating from how actually suicidal I am, I think they’re making sure I don’t feel most of it, one time I connected to my true feeling and I had to tie down my own hands so I wouldn’t strangle myself, I just can’t stand being aware of how much I want to die. I’m also aware of how much I want to live because I fought with my flesh and sanity to stay alive. 

I really need to hear other stories about other personalities, why and how they formed, what were they like, what were the differences and alikes, how did you get along with them? I know something like this must have happened to other people in extremely traumatic life conditions, so please share it with me, even if it’s not exactly like this or just a bit similar.  (feel free to reblog this!)

Time Travel Fallacy

I want to name this thing since I haven’t seen someone anyone else describe it. I call it the Time Travel Fallacy, where you attack your opponent by using their past recorded self against them. 

I’ve observed a few distinct forms of the Time Travel Fallacy. The first is like the example in that link: a person’s actions or stances from years ago are used as a “gotcha!” response if they are in seen as in violation with their current claims. This is fallacious because people can change their minds and sometimes say stupid shit, regret is not like a fake and meaningless emotion. The only real thing to watch for here is how long “years ago” is. Time isn’t the right measure as much as maturation / relative age / relevant information gathering is; quoting a 15 year old when they were 12 is a lot less okay than quoting a 30 year old at 27, for reasons that if not obvious will have to be explained later.

The second form I’ve seen is the most common, as it’s the least difficult to detect for all parties involved, and thus is the one that happens most often without malice and is accepted without question. At its core, it’s essentially a temporally-boosted strawman: you quote your opponent from the past and treat that as evidence that your opponent believes those things. This one has a lot of grey area! It’s only strictly a fallacy if you quote something your opponent no longer believes, but the only way you can be sure is to ask them if they still stand by it without counting it as a mark against them if they don’t. But since almost everyone falls for this fallacy, this means that for the purpose of public exchange, it would be extremely difficult to confirm a past viewpoint by direct reference in good faith!

For example, let’s assume you are trying to convince me that magic is false (but I know magic is real). You find a tweet of me from 2 years ago that says “well of course doorknobs aren’t real because magic is fake” (shoutout to @avertingtheflamewars​). You might think this is a useful refutation to my ridiculous claim that magic is real, because 2 years ago I said it wasn’t (I had my spiritual awakening only 1 year ago, so of course I didn’t know magic was real.) 

If you quote me saying  “well of course doorknobs aren’t real because magic is fake”, I don’t have any fair responses. I can’t stand by the thing I obviously no longer believe, and even if you accept without question me saying “I no longer believe that” or any other explanation, you can still be accidentally committing the third variant of the Time Travel Fallacy: the temporal ad hominem. This is where quotes from someone in the past are used as a way to tarnish their reputation or words in the present; either explicitly “you used to <Bad Thing!” or as a (potentially accidental side effect) of quoting them out of context, where the context is “fuck, man, I was a teenager, it really isn’t fair in any way to conflate me, the stupid person from 4 years ago with me, the entity having the disagreement with you.” I think there’s a lot of overlap between this and the first form; if there’s been enough time for a real change of opinion (and that person reliably signals New Opinion), you’re potentially also using a really nasty ad hominem against the person which will cause a lot of people to dismiss their claims outright due to the mysterious deficiencies of the brain w.r.t. rational information gathering and reasoning. 

If you’re arguing with someone, try and argue with them, now. If you absolutely feel like you need to reference something from more than <see nonexistant_chart.jpg to determine exact amount of time>  ago, the closest thing permissible is privately asking them if they still support the quote / requesting permission to ask about it publicly, and taking no action your opponent doesn’t consent to. Anything else is almost certainly bad faith (but frequently nobody will call you on it).

If you see someone quote their opponent in A Discourse you are experiencing, check to see if there was time travel! If there was, and a Time Travel Fallacy was committed, please always give that context; to yourself, to others you share it with, and to the parties involved if you’re an active part of the Discourse In Question. After all, it’s entirely possible it was a mistake! Time travel, like scope insensitivity, is a class of thing our brains don’t seem to be good at noticing the implications of very well.

If someone does this to you… Well, you can point it out, but it’s hard and even if you convey the idea properly it can quickly just turn the argument into a different kind of shitty thing where you have to defend your changed opinion over <timespan> and still probably lose some points, despite having no real relevance to your current position. Relatedly, please note that while you can set your own window for how far past your current beliefs stretch, if that number is different enough from the results of <nonexistant_chart.jpg>, you can’t hold people responsible for working with information they don’t have, and thus you must make it available if you wish it to be respected. However, specifying very short expiration dates on your beliefs might lead people to believe you are unusually inconsistent, or lying. 

Addendum: If you are actually lying, go away! None of this is for you! These are tools for those who got rid of you and still want to do better! If they ever become effective and you use them, you are the worst kind of defector! Nobody likes the worst kind of defectors! >:[ 

anonymous asked:

Fuboo, as a 15 year old kid struggling through high school and being terrified of growing up the fact that you're 33 and are still awesome and act like a child really helps, because I'm scared that as I get older I'll stop being me and just fade away into some boring adult So just thanks for having this blog and proving that no matter how old you are you can still be young and fun ^^

You only become who you let yourself be.

it helps to have the space to open your mind and just be yourself, surround yourself with people who love you as you are, and you won’t need to grow up mentally.
The only thing that will change is your wisdom.

even saying i ‘self-diagnosed’ irks me. because it doesn’t communicate in any way what happened. 

which was that i went through my entire life being fucking autistic as shit but nobody knew, so i thought i was a fundamentally worthless and awful person. there was no explanation for the things i did e.g. meltdowns and the things i couldn’t do e.g. function. basically at all. so i thought that i must just have been…not trying hard enough? or being shitty on purpose? 

like i’d be 15 years old lying on the floor in an empty house screaming uncontrollably for an hour that felt like 10 minutes and in the back of my mind i’d think “you probably could have not done that.” 

my parents would be begging me to tell them what’s wrong when i’m upset and i’d sit there choking and aching to get the words out, thinking “you could probably talk right now if you tried a bit harder.” 

i’d fucking humiliate myself by shutting down in the middle of the schoolyard and only being able to get out of it six hours later and having no way to explain or justify my ‘behaviour’ to anyone including myself

‘self diagnosing’ was a process of reading about autism for hours and hours and days and months going HOLY SHIT. THAT’S WHAT THAT WAS. THAT THING THAT MADE ME HATE MYSELF AND WISH NO-ONE CARED ABOUT ME SO I COULDN’T HURT THEM WITH MY ‘INSANE’ BEHAVIOUR. IT HAS A NAME. AND REASONS. AND EVEN FUCKING STRATEGIES FOR DEALING WITH IT. MY LIFE TO THIS DATE FUCKING. MAKES. SENSE.

that is ‘self-diagnosis.’ nobody ‘self-diagnoses’ for the fun of it. some NT people throw around the terms, like “i like listening to songs over and over, i’m so autistic” but you don’t hear them saying “i sometimes don’t become aware that i need to go to the bathroom until the very last second and i have a lot of issues prioritising that information and dealing with it in a timely manner so i’m frequently incontinent, often in public, lol i’m so autistic.” just as an example. i mean, would it be so hard for you anti-self-dx crusaders to listen to what self dxers are saying? because what they tend to be saying is not a glamorised or lightened version of autism, nor does it tend to be different in any way from the things that pro-dxed autistic people write. same goes for mental illnesses. k? sermon over.

WHAT ARCHERY TAUGHT ME ABOUT FIGHTING

I’ve had two great passions in my life, martial arts and archery. Martial arts was something I took up at 8 years old and have been consistent with for the last 32 years. My other passion I took up at 15 years old, and have been less consistent with. When push came to shove and circumstances forced me to give up one pursuit over the other, archery was the one that lost out. That being said, archery is something I have loved since the first time I picked up a bow, and continue to love to this day.

I shoot traditional, which is to say that I shoot a wooden bow devoid of sights or stabilizers. Loosing arrows has largely been a meditative pursuit for me. Archery, done well, forces you to relax you mind and to let your body align itself. There are dozens of variables that must be right to fire a bow correctly, both mental and physical. The odd thing about archery, for me, is that I always know when a shot will be bad before I let the arrow go. Usually I don’t know exactly why, but I know. Sometimes I know even before I raise my bow. There is nothing psychic about it, I just feel when something is off, even if I don’t know specifically what that something is. Maybe my grip on the bow is slightly off, maybe my fingers aren’t resting on the string correctly. Perhaps there is tension in my shoulder, or my feet are off by an inch or two. Maybe my eyes aren’t focused correctly, or my breathing is off. But something doesn’t feel right long before I let the arrow go.

It took years for me to realize how to overcome this, and the answer was simple… when things feel “off” I lower my bow, raise it again, and see if things feel right. If they do, I let the arrow go. This is easier said than done, it takes discipline. My natural tendency is to force things that aren’t working rather than starting over.

That discovery lead me to another one. When sparring, I can usually feel when a combination going to land. Likewise, I can usually sense when I’m about to eat leather. I may not know exactly why, but I can sense when things are right and when things are wrong. Maybe my rhythm is off, maybe my body is out of sync, maybe my range is off or my feet are out of position, but I always know when things don’t feel right, even if I don’t know why. When I feel this, I have learned that’s just like on the archery range, I need to reset. I’ll bounce back out of range, roll my shoulders, turn my opponent, and see if things feel right. If they don’t I’ll do it again. If they do, I’ll let my hands go. Again, this takes discipline, and goes against my natural instincts. Often my stubbornness gets the best of me and I try to force a bad situation, usually paying the price for it in end.

Sometimes, lessons come from the strangest places.

A little about me

Hey, just wanted to tell my followers a bit of who I am, I’m 15 years old, and I go to high-school, I’m gay af obviously, single, crushing :), JUST A FACT, when I like for someone I really do, it’s not a simple crush, it something that just, drains my energy away and ruins me, especially if you have no idea if the guy you like is interested or no if he keeps giving on and off messages, anywho, I live in a very close minded country, gay isn’t accepted and any different type of act a guy or a girl does that isn’t like, lets just say, stereotypical, I really love pugs a lot, I love art, I admire people who just, are genuinely nice? And care about others. Yea this is just apart of me I wanted to share 💕💕 love y'all

Save Me - Chapter 2

A few hours later, Aaron finally got back to me and well, I should have known this plan was coming together way too easy. Apparently, Michael, my 15 year-old nephew, had a hockey game and the whole family was going to cheer him and his team on. Why did it not surprise me that Aaron followed that up with “if you already planned on taking Mackenzie, why not take Lily and Paige too?” Damn.

Knowing what a nightmare it must be to have two crazy seven year-olds at an ice rink all day, I got why he asked. Still, I’m not going to deny it, ‘WTF’ did echo in my mind, which should have been a serious warning that I listened to but I didn’t. If I was questioning my abilities at being an authority figure for one child, I was almost in full blown panic mode with the thought of three of them! Wanting to be a good sister won out though and I decided to grin and bear it. He was the one crazy enough to trust me. “If it’s okay with Mackenzie, then it’s okay with me.”

After putting some thought into it, as well as another very full glass of wine, I came to the conclusion that this might just be an awesome little adventure only to be shared with my three beautiful nieces and me. My one, not very tiny concern….Lily. Quite frankly, she’s a beast. An adorable, bright, sweet seven year-old girl with a wicked little mind of her own, she’s been known to have the ability to literally push you to a limit you didn’t even know you had. That Lily, I’ve seen but never experienced on my own.

Lily is the opposite of her twin, Paige, thank goodness, I don’t think the world is ready for two Lily’s to inhabit it. ‘Maybe Mackenzie, being almost 13 will help’ I thought to myself. Wait, who am I kidding, even her mother can’t control her! Shit, this has disaster written all over it. Shaking my head at this little change in plans and taking another rather large gulp of wine, I went online to buy our concert tickets. Fuck it.

I googled Thirty Seconds to Mars tour schedule and found June 4th concert I was interested in. Just as I was about to buy the tickets I clicked on the link to “ Adventures in Wonderland”. Backstage or side stage access, meet and greet, signing and a goodie bag?! Now THIS would make it special. THIS says “cool Aunt”. After literally no deliberation, and I mean zero, I purchased the best package you can buy. When it came time to check out and I saw my total….yikes! Maybe I should have deliberated just a little bit. This was a small fortune but as I took another sip of wine I realized it would be a once in a lifetime experience that they’ll be sharing with just me and that alone was worth the money….or so I told myself.

My new mantra 'It’s going to be fine, It’s going to be fine’ rolled over and over in my head….hopefully by the time the concert was here, I just may believe it!!

saddermachine  asked:

Wassup how u doin, I'm lowkey(highkey) nosey so......14, 26, 30 and 32 🌸🙃

Sup, my dudette no. 2 !!!

14. Birthday?

My birthday is on the 4th of April so pretty easy to remember hinthint

26. Best thing that has ever happened to you?

Well the first thing that comes to mind is the summer of 2014 when my friend and I went to the BTS Showcase in Stockholm, Sweden. The trip was so fun and memorable. I even talked to strangers (me! I talked to strangers! Like face to face!) And my 15-year-old self was so sure that omg Jungkook just looked at me but that was probably just me being delusional… wow Lisa thanks for making me emotional

30. Watch the movie or read the book?

I prefer watching the movie first and then reading the book. And once again, I have the worst memory so it’s not like I’m gonna remember the important bits of the story line like normal people do. But the reason I do it like this, is because for me the most important part of the book are the characters. Which is also why I prefer reading fanfics. It’s like getting to know them priefly before reading the book.

32. Favourite show?

Wowza… How is this the hardest one? I’m just gonna say Vampire Diaries even though that’s very 2010 teenager of me. But also, hello have you met me? It’s just that I got hooked on it again and I just really love Bonnie, ok??

Thank you for asking I feel honored ^-^* Hope you’re sleeping well !

Originally posted by nctech

Send me a number

Heyyy! My name is Aishah. I’m 16 years old and live in the USA. I speak, Spanish, English, ASL, Portuguese, and some Italian. I have MANY hobbies & tend to stay active. SOME include, crafts, 
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I don’t mind your race, sexual orientation, or where you are from, but I do ask for you to be a female under 20 years old. snail mail ONLY please! Thanks 4 reading!
Email me: penpalz43ver@ gmail .com