i want to wear them without wearing them

Ok so I see a lot of hijabis preach about how their parents aren’t forcing them into wearing a hijab and that’s it’s their own personal choice and even showing proof like posting screenshots of conversations with their parents showing how supportive their parents are of their decision to wear a hijab or not, and that they’ll always support them no matter what they do. Most of them implying that hijab is a personal choice and that no body is ever being forced into it without considering that this isn’t the case with everyone. Wearing a hijab because you WANT to is great, this is how things should be but please don’t invalidate the hijabis that are actually being forced to wear the hijab, it’s great to have supportive parents that encourage you to embrace your own identity and make your own life choice but not everyone’s parents are like that, there are so many hijabis that wear it because their parents only care about the image their daughters represent within their community, I know so many girls that aren’t happy about wearing it or girls that got disowned by their parents (literally disowned) simply for finally standing up for their own personal beliefs and taking the hijab off, so just because your parents are supportive and just because it was strictly your decision to wear it doesn’t mean that you can deny the fact that this whole forcing girls to wear it situation doesn’t happen very often. It’s important to always consider that just because you have it good, doesn’t mean everyone else does

Matt's Glasses

Matt’s glasses always bother me, starting with the fact that Pidge is wearing them. She obviously doesn’t need glasses, as seen in flashbacks

And the fact she doesn’t wear them with her helmet

And I want to say she just popped the frames out, I really do, but

they obviously do have frames. 

Aside from Pidge wearing the glasses, there’s the fact that Matt is not. He obviously needs them, right???

But he’s not wearing them with his helmet, yet his dad is. He always wore them in flashbacks, even the photo that seems to be taken just before he left

Yet looks like he can see perfectly fine without them

Conclusion: Matt Holt is a faker who only wears glasses for the aesthetic 

Dean’s Flannel

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Summary: Flannel is a standard in the hunting world but it slowly becomes something more for Dean and the reader…

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt was “Flannel”…


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A Touch Of Love, 1.

Genre | Romance / Valentine’s Day drabbles.

Pairing | Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Prompt“No, like– It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

Words | 1,099 words.


Kim Taehyung knows better than to expect you to be on time.

It is but a mere concept created by humanity! You will always exclaim as a feeble excuse to defend your indisputable lack of management when it comes to the twenty-four hours of a day. There is no doubt about it that you leave important, need-to-be-attended-to matters to the final, clutching seconds before they are due, and that a decent handful of minutes are lost between the spaces of your fingers, squandered to distractions and procrastination.

It is a behaviour that Taehyung hates to adore, a terrible skill that you have refined to the marrow, yet he cannot deny how unbearably endearing it is. Most especially when you arrive just on time, blood flushing your cheeks, eyes shining with the sting of the wind where it cut into the delicate film while you ran, the air punched out of your lungs though you still kiss him as though you are not already lightheaded enough.

Today is no different. Except it is. It is! Because today defines the anniversary that the one and only Kim Taehyung took you out on the first date of a drive-in theatre soaked in the hues of twilight and learned that you could point out all of the constellations in the sky and discovered what buttered popcorn tastes like when stuck in the crevices of your lips and how delightfully warm his hand feels when it is carefully positioned beneath lace in the opening created by your unbuttoned, unzipped jeans. The two of you found love underneath placid starlight in the blanket-laden tray of his ancient truck, a devotion that has been strung in unraveling silk, tied to the towball of the vehicle parked before a screen bigger than imaginable, laced around the bedpost of the room you first made unforgettable love amongst freshly washed sheets, knotted and bound in the landmarks that the both of you claimed as your own along the way in your venture of redamancy until this very moment right here. The third anniversary. Marking the longest relationship that Taehyung has ever had the rapture of being enamoured by, the sole one that he truly believes will continue on until his final breath on this earth.

And you are late. As per usual.

The coffee that Taehyung nurses in the comfort of the outdoor cafe awning is lukewarm by the moment that he notices the escalating soundtrack of sneakers slapping sharp against the pavement, loose pebbles crunching beneath the soles in their trek. And, in that time, there is not a moment to spare to turn around and spectate your approach for you are already skidding into view by the side of the table, a grin splitting your flustered features into that of a crescent moon, arms goofily lifted in the air and Taehyung just about falls in love all over again.

“Happy–” You dive onto his shores, collapsing the entirety of your weight onto his seated, gratified self and kissing him absolutely silly amidst your words– “Third– Anniversary– Lover!”

Taehyung cups your blushing features between his palms, framing beauty and the one thing in this world that he adores like no other, holding your catastrophic entity so preciously. There is honey still pressed to your lips and he yearns for more, bringing your mouths together in gentle intimacy until the rubescent simmer of your cheeks is suitably attributed to the way he dips his tongue into the parted seam of your lips, rather than the urgent sprint you made from the apartment to meet him on the cusp of his ending lunch break.

“You’re hopeless,” Taehyung teases, kisses you once more for good measure, public displays of affection be wholly damned. “Did you just wake up?”

Cheekily, you grin wider and slink away from his hold to position yourself in the opposite seat, red hands on unadulterated display. “Technically, it’s still morning.”

“For only ten more minutes, silly girl.” Affection inflects his tone, and now that you are right here, living and existing before him, the desire to abandon the remaining five hours of his shift to spend the day with you tugs earnestly at his heart. “You still taste of… Breakfast…”

The remainder of Taehyung’s sentence dies on the tip of his tongue as he gets a good look at you, a really good look, beyond the staring at your face that his eyes have been trained on doing since the second you arrived. Practically swallowing your torso is, unmistakably, his own sweater of black and white stripes, the hem tucked into the front of your jeans while the arms are cloaked in the denim of, yet again, his own jacket. The sheer nonchalance that flows confidently in your movements as you flick through a menu has him completely unsure as to whether you realise that you are currently wearing his clothes, or if the sheer rush of getting here enforced you to throw on whatever you could find without noticing the size difference in the attire.

“Is there something on my face?” And Taehyung, in his bewildered state, comes to realise that you are blinking at him, eyebrow raised.

“Ah– No, it’s just that… My clothes–”

A small bubble of laughter escapes your lungs, lowering your lashes to observe your fingertips picking at a loose thread on the cuff of the denim jacket, the tiniest smile nestled in the corner of your mouth. “Oh! Yeah, they are truly so comfy and they smell like your cologne, so I sometimes wear them out while running errands or visiting the university. I never realised you didn’t know! I hope you weren’t wanting to wear these tonight–”

“No, no– I just– They look unacceptably fantastic on you,” Taehyung gradually smiles, adoration swelling in his chest at the affectionate statement you so effortlessly declared. “You suit them more than I do.”

“Why thank you, but you know what they suit better?” You muse, and it is a trap that Taehyung, without realising, steps himself directly into as the sound of acknowledgement he creates is suspended in the air between you, and you are answering the cursed question with a smirk made for sinners.

“The floor.”

And let us just say that Taehyung never thought that the third anniversary with the love of his life would result in him nearly losing his job because he never returned from lunch. Though sometimes, love makes everyone enact upon ludicrous decisions – most especially for him when they are encouraged by the cunning, though adoringly beguiling likes of you.

Drabbles | One: KTH • Two: MYGThree: JHSFour: KNJFive: KSJSix: JJKSeven: PJM (Finale)

Radical Feminism is NOT Feminism (Tumblr Feminism version since all of you are so butthurt).

I’ve been on Tumblr long enough to see heinous posts about men-haters and misandry. So let me clear this up for you hella quick.

I came from a third-world country, now having the privilege to live in a developed one for more than half my life. So let me tell you “Rad fems” a little something and I will be anything BUT nice about it.

Shaving leg hair and wearing makeup is NOT oppression. Being betrothed from the second you’re born is oppression. 

Having a guy call you “hot” or “cute” isn’t berating women. Having acid thrown on your face is. 

Having your gender mistaken because they don’t know what you identify as is not offensive. Being belittled for your gender (whether it be he OR she) is offensive.

Did you ever think that men AND women can enjoy rough sex? If it is consented, that is THEIR business and something THEY enjoy, and it’s not your place to judge how they like their sex to be. There are plenty of women who ENJOY rough sex. Shocker, I know.

Someone can be a housewife without a job, married to a MAN and still be a feminist. You are in no place to tell them otherwise.

Women can shave their legs and wear makeup and be a feminist, it’s THEIR choice. LET THEM BE. THEY LIKE SHAVING THEIR HAIR AND CAKING THEIR FACE. KEYWORD: LIKE.

Did it ever occur to you that girls ENJOY wearing makeup? I think makeup is art and my face is the canvas. I have days where I don’t want to wear makeup and days I do. 

And last but not least, man-hating. That’s misandry. In case you “feminists” forgot, feminism is EQUAL RIGHTS. Not superiority for women, inferiority for men. There are PLENTY of MEN who I know are feminists. My father, my brother, my friends. 

Did you forget about Barack Obama? Joseph Gordon Levitt? Matt McGorry? Men who ADVOCATE for women’s rights? Probably, if you’re that dumb to think all men are evil. 

Beyonce, Michelle Obama, Emma Watson, Malala Yousafzai, Benazir Bhutto are epitomes of ideal feminists TO ME.

I am a feminist. I advocate for equal wage, education rights, I advocate for pro-choice, I advocate for LGBT communities and minority groups. I run a community that fights domestic abuse and helps women in need, whether it be from abuse, poverty, anything. And guess what? Shaving their legs or wearing makeup is the LAST thing in their minds? I am a feminist who love men, love going to Sephora and buying a bunch of makeup and wearing it, and I LOVE shaving my legs to make them smooth af. 

And one day, I hope I do find a man BECAUSE I AM STRAIGHT! SORRY FOR MY SEXUAL ORIENTATION, WILL ALL OF YOU SHIT ON ME FOR THAT TOO?

Before you start thinking that all those petty issues are feminism causes, think about all those girls who have much bigger issues. Get out of your close-minded heads and stop giving real feminists a bad name. 

Glasses Wearing Guys in Manga

I didn’t include any manga that i’ve already watched an anime for and most if not all are main characters. 

Guys:

Suzuki, Yori (Ano ko no, toriko.): I don’t want to talk about how hard it was to find a decent picture of him with his glasses on. Doesn’t always wear them… one of those situations where he’s more attractive without his glasses to everyone… bleh

Hara, Youichi (Bread & Butter): An older man for you all.

Kurosawa, Ayumu (Dame na Watashi ni Koishite Kudasai): An older hottie ex delinquent type with a cold personality. 

Shishio, Satsuki (Daytime shooting star): Sadly he doesn’t wear them all the time… but he looks good with or without them!

Endou (Endou-kun no Kansatsu Nikki): Shounen ai in case you all get interested in the picture but you aren’t interested in reading that genre!

Ojiro, Kazuma (Faster than a Kiss): Almost every time there’s a student teacher relationship in Shoujo the Teacher wears glasses. I wonder if it’s a rule of the genre…

Sakaki, Momo (Fukumenkei Noise): Rude.

Mineta, Kiyoshiro (Haru x Kiyo): I want this manga to be updated already…

Shinguuji (Hetamen)

Kawasumi, Kouha (Hibi Chouchou): What a freaking cutie!

Sakurai, Haruka (Kinkyori Renai)

Kikuchi Hideo (Paradise View): Yaoi though…

Hoshino, Kaoru (Yozora no Sumikko de,): Shounen ai though…

“Things are getting freer. Even a few years ago, I couldn’t wear what I’m wearing now without inviting a rebuke. The scarves are getting brighter and looser. The sleeves are getting shorter. The laughter is getting louder. This is a very young country. More than half the population is under 30. Have you ever seen an Iranian child? They are the most mischievous children on the planet. If you want an Iranian child to do something– tell them not to do it. Tell them not to kiss. Tell them not to hold hands. Tell them to dress in black. Tell them not to use Facebook. This country is full of mischievous, curious Iranian children. And the people who make the rules are getting older. And just like the Iranian parent, they are getting exhausted.”

(Namakabroud, Iran)

Lindworm

@ofhealinglove You don’t know me and I don’t know you well, but I know you like MadaSaku and life can suck, but MadaSaku always makes things better for me. Story is inspired by the folktale of the Lindworm. I hope you like it.


Once upon a time a queen fell into despair after many years of being unable to carry a child. Her kingdom was without an heir and her home devoid of sweet children. She was weeping in the garden when an old woman approached her, asking about her tears. When the queen told the old woman it was because she was barren the old woman held out a pair of pruning sheers.

“Go into your garden and you will find one red rose and one white rose. If you eat the white rose you will bear a girl, the red rose will give you a son, but be warned, you must only eat one of these roses, to devour both would be unwise.”

“The queen does as the old woman instructs and finds the roses in her garden. Thinking it over, the queen plucks the red rose and eats it, thinking of her future son. But then her heart begins to long for a daughter, and before she can remember the old woman’s warning, she devours the white rose as well.

“Nine months pass and soon comes the time for the queen to deliver her child. Heavy with child, she labors for many hours before she is able to push her child free, but a babe does not greet the midwives. With a roar like that of a fire’s, a lindworm slithers from her room and snakes out the window in wings of long leather. Following the worm, the queen discharges a healthy human boy, wailing in crying. The queen swears her midwives to secrecy and all is well in the land for seventeen and a half odd years.

But then the noble prince grows up and is taken with the heart for adventure of the most rewarding kind. He wishes to find a wife to make his heart sing. With his father’s blessing, he prepares to depart on such a journey when on the road the mighty dragon blocks their path. With the words of moral men the dragon demands a bride as is his birthright. The prince tries three more times, and the same even occurs. Bringing this news home, the queen finally breaks down and reveals her treachery. Yes, the monster is truly her son, and her first born. The young son may not marry until the eldest is taken with a bride.

The king sends for princess of far off kingdoms to please his worm son, but one after the other, they are eaten by the monster on their wedding night. Distraught and in a panic as to what they can do with their son, the king and queen begin kidnapping girls from nearby villages to wed to their son, praying one will break the curse and satisfy his desires.

“And that’s how I ended up here, isn’t it?” Sakura asked with a wicked smirk.

Staring wide eyed, the chancellor gaped openly for a good solid minute before recovering. Pushing his glasses up, the dark haired man squeaked. “Rumors being what they are, there is always exaggeration to be found-“

“Cut the bull, Iruka, I don’t buy it.  Get to the point of what you wanted to say earlier.”

Iruka, to his credit, looked ashamed. “Beg your pardon, but I suspect the allure of marrying into royalty would not move you to give yourself over. I’m sorry, but you are the only one of our staff that does not have a father to speak for her. You’ve been with us only a month, but you’ve never had post or visitors and you don’t go into town. You won’t be…missed.”

Sakura frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out to the side at the gardens she was tending. Her hands were dirty, and her dress was little more than rags fit for working in. She hadn’t tried to look nice in her new office of employment, in fact, she had purposely tied up her hair and kept it wrapped under and scarf so that no one would see it and remember her for it. She liked to remain unnoticed and be the person people forgot about first. It made travel from one place to another easy. 

At least, that’s how she felt when she was working on jobs. When she was freelancing, she was a whole other story.

“Do I have a choice in any of this, or are you going to seize me in the night and drag me gagged and bound before his highness?”

Iruka stuttered. “I-I am so sorry, my good lady. Isn’t there anything you might want? To live as a princess for even a day is more than some girls can hope for.”

“Ah,” Sakura mused, exaggerating the tapping of her chin in thought. “But it is only for one day. To live for one more day, what would I trade for that?”

Iruka looked off to the side and Sakura followed his line of sight to the guards who patrolled back and forth on shifts that rotated ever four to six hours. Poor Iruka, to be the man who strong-arms the girls into this deadly fate.

“I guess there are some things I want. If the king will give these to me, I will consent and marry his worm of a son without complaint.”

“You will?” Iruka’s eyes were almost as wide as when she first recounted the story that had been so closely guarded. Not even the kitchen staff could speak or hear of it, and the kitchen staff knew nearly everything. “W-w-whatever you want, it is yours, the king will surly grant you your wish.”

Sakura held up three fingers. “First, I want seven dresses, each one a half a size larger than the last so that I might wear them all at once. These are the dresses I will wear on my wedding night so I can’t marry him until then. Secondly, on the night of our wedding, in the room where bride and groom consummate their vows, I want a copper basin filled with milk from a cow that is without spot or blemish.”

“Those are…” he struggled to find the words, “odd requests if ever I’ve heard them. What is the third thing you ask for?”

Sakura smiled, cheekily. “I’ll let the king know that myself, since it depends on how the night goes. Once my dresses are made, let me know and I will come for the prince, until then, leave me to work in the garden.”

“You don’t want a room fit for a princess?”

Sakura snorted, turning her back on Iruka and picking up the ho she had been using. In a simple move, she swung the ho out and buried its metal into the dirt. The lines in her back stood out, betraying the secret strength that coiled under her skin. She was a delicate looking creature, but Iruka suspected there was more to her than such a fragile frame. No one else thought to look twice at her, including him, but now he thought better of it. She was a tricky woman, one that set him off balance, and one he was all the better leaving to her own devices.

“I will leave you to your work then, my good lady,” he said with a nod, turning to let the king and queen know of his good news.

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The commodification of culture is ‘you can wear it, but I can’t’. 

Cultural appropriation is the same - ‘You can wear it, but I can’t!’ cries the white person as they drench themselves in henna, superglue a bindi to their forehead, and refuse to brush their hair for weeks on end.

Growing up, I was surrounded by white kids. They said I smelled dirty every time I got back from visiting my family, or when I went to school the morning after my mother had made a particularly strong curry. They complained to their parents, who complained to their teacher, who complained to my parents, who gently told me that I spilled rice on the table at lunch time. Thus the switch to white bread and red meat began - bleaching myself from the inside out. School meals fucking sucked. I was banned from using my tastebuds for years.

Every time I went to Delhi, I would leave with henna on my hands - my mother would take me to the market in a rickshaw and we’d sit there for half an hour while some stranger drew these beautiful things all over me, and I would watch him, fascinated, on a stool before me, his legs splayed out. We’d hand him a few coins and be on our way, and she’d stop for panipuri on the way home. I’d be careful not to wipe my hands on the rickshaw rail, careful not to wipe my hands on anything. I’d smell the traces of India on my clothes, and washing them the evening I got home would always be a little sad.

‘You can wear it, but I can’t.‘ 

Kids ran away from me at school like I was poison ivy. Convinced that I would give them a horrible disease, or if I didn’t, I probably smelled anyway so there was no reason to go within a thirty foot proximity of me. Their parents would encourage them - instating bans on ever ending up at my house when they saw my mother pick me up in the playground with a bindi on her forehead one day, when they heard my father’s strong accent. Like they’d have wanted to go to my house anyway.

'You can wear it, but I can’t.’

Funnily, I can’t wear it. I can’t wear the sari, the lengha or the bindi, even now, without someone looking me up and down with disgust. ‘Get out of our country’; ‘dothead’; ‘Paki’; ‘lousy immigrants, running our healthcare systems to lock us out’; it’s all the same to me. 

'But it’s cool to wear it at Coachella, right? At the party next week? I saw Madonna doing it, it’s completely in right now.’ And if I say no, I’m the bad guy, and it’s people like me that are keeping the stereotype of Indian people alive - they’re all freshies, they don’t belong here and they’re just, like, so intrusive. What’s with them taking all our jobs? Why is there one behind every corner shop counter and on every call centre line? Why are all the doctors in my local hospital brown, yet the receptionist is white? Seems like some kind of supremacy, right?

Thus the commodification of my culture continues. I watch crystal bindis being marked up to be sold in Forever21 and Topshop when I can buy them on the street in Delhi for a tenth of the cost. I see girls I knew in primary school plaster Friday night pictures of them in their bodycon dress and their bindi spot with a mixer in their hand all over my news feed, and I know that this is how it is -

'You can wear it, but I can’t.’

I have somehow been locked out of a culture that I want to be proud of; I am rejected as the fresh off the boat immigrant who’s going to give everyone a disease with their dirty hands. On me it’s dirt, worthy of a slur in my direction and an inside joke with the next white person you see - but on you, it’s chic. It’s cheerful and boho-indie-pastel-pale-cute.

You point with your left hand, and painstakingly apply your bindi spot with the right. Then you forget about it, because you can afford to, and adjust your sari in the mirror with both.

who dares me to spend $100+ on makeup (i dont even wear makeup)

Hoe tip: what to keep in your purse on a night out

1. Money- ALWAYS have money. You never know what could happen. I always keep around $20 with me when I go out in case I end up needing something.

2. Driver’s License or some form of ID- a driver’s license is obvious if you’re a driver and you just keep it in your wallet. However, if you don’t drive yet or you for some reason don’t have your license on you unless you’re driving, you should always have some form of ID, even if it’s just your school ID. Before I started driving I kept my school ID and a piece of paper in my wallet that had my first and last name, address, and a parent’s phone number on it. If something happens to you (like you get in a car accident) and you can’t tell anyone who you are, they’ll see that in your wallet and be able to notify your parent/guardian.

3. Medications- any medications that you may end up needing. I always have some of my prescriptions on me in case I need them, some ibuprofen, my inhaler, and birth control in case I end up being out later than I expected, then I can still take it on time.

4. House key- even though there’s almost always someone home or a way to get in, I keep a house key on me just in case something happens and I need a way to get in my house.

5. Pepper spray- this may seem like doing the most but I feel like if you’re a female you definitely need it. Just in case.

6. Blotting sheets- always helpful if you’re oily or wear makeup, you can touch up whenever you need to.

7. Chapstick- because you never want to be anywhere without Chapstick. Ever.

8. Whatever lipstick I’m wearing that night- because lipstick always ends up needing touch ups at some point.

9. Portable phone charger- these things are LIFE. SAVING. You can get them for cheap on Amazon and all you do is charge them like you would charge your phone and then keep them in your purse with a cord, and when you need to charge your phone you can. If you get a good one, it can charge your phone to almost 100% from dead.

10. Condoms- just in case. Even on nights when I go out and I’m not planning on doing anything (which is most nights), I keep two condoms in my purse. You can never rely on the other person and you should never have just one because you never know what could happen!

These are just the basics for me, and of course this list can be tweaked to suit anyone’s needs. I would probably carry more useless stuff, but I have a small purse 😅

Take a Chance (Part 1)

Originally posted by fadetopale

pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers
characters: Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Amora (Enchantress), Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
word count: 1,860
warnings: a lot of mentions of alcohol a cussing, like a lot, implied one night stand
a/n: based on a Spanish movie ¿Qué Culpa Tiene el Niño? that my mom and i love! this will have some similarilies to the movie but different circumstance
summary: AU! After a one night stand at a friend’s wedding, you gain something that could possibly change your life and views on life for the better or worse.

Prologue||All Parts||Next

Your name: submit What is this?

The sound of a door opening and closing drags you out of your deep slumber. You groan, feeling something grainy scratch your skin every time you move around your bed. Wait… your bedding isn’t this soft and light! And it definitely doesn’t scratch you so much. Oh. Right. Hotel. Hamptons. Wedding. Wait, hold on, okay, you’re in a hotel room but why are you naked? You never sleep naked! Oh my god, whose hotel room are you in?! What the hell happened last night?!

“Fuckkkkkkk.”

Rolling out of the bed, you feel an uncomfortable soreness between your legs, almost falling off the bed because of the sudden feeling. You try standing up, wrapping yourself up in the comfortable duvet. With steady steps, you look around the room, seeing your dress from last night on an armchair and one of your shoes near the door leading to the living room.

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For fat girls looking for cheap leggings to wear under dresses/long tops

I just got a pair of these “Zando” brand women’s capri leggings off Amazon.  They are cheap and the 7x (US Size 4x) stretches easily to fit my 5x/6x butt.  

They are DEFINITELY cheaply constructed, so don’t buy these thinking you’re getting super quality items, but they’re lightweight enough that I can wear them under cowcow dresses without adding too much heat factor (because the downside to cow cow stuff is that the fabric gets hot quickly).  The fabric is thin, so you probably want to wear something over them to cover yer butt unless you’re totes OK with people seeing your undies.

Hope this helps.  The pair I got were $8.99 and had free shipping (to the US) but prices will probably vary a bit.  They came from China but got here quite quickly, so that was nice also.

If bras make you more physically comfortable, by all means wear them. But if you just think you’re kind of unsightly without them, maybe consider cultivating an appreciation for the shape of your breasts without a bra, just like you might cultivate an appreciation for the sight of your face without makeup.

I have a very large chest, but I started going without bras a few months ago, and I find it much more physically comfortable. Sometimes I’ll wear an undershirt, if I want more coverage or support, but it was a lot easier to stop wearing them than I thought it’d be.

BTS Reaction to Seeing Their Boyfriend’s Freckles for the First Time

Request: BTS reaction to staring their bf without makeup for the first time and seeing they have freckles that go across their cheeks and nose


Namjoon: Finds them pretty but doesn’t want to tell him because then Joon will get extremely blushy and ajdnkjdnfkm

Taehyung: Compliments upon compliments! Really finds them beautiful.

Hoseok: Would stare because like wow his boyfriend has been hiding his freckles but they look so beautiful??

Jin: Likes it better when he wears less makeup because his freckles are visible and he finds them attractive.

Jungkook: “They’re like stars can I draw constellations on them?” 

Yoongi: Also likes it better when his boyfriend wears less makeup because he just adores his freckles.

Jimin: He coos out his compliments because he really likes them and thinks they look absolutely beautiful.

anonymous asked:

Could you do a BTS reaction to their s/o having really bad vision but not wearing their glasses because they are insecure about how they look in them. Thank you:) i hope this was okay because i couldnt find your FAQ.

thank you for requesting ^^ and it’s completely fine, your request isn’t offending in any way so no worries about the faq~ but thank you for telling me, I guess I have to work on my mobile links lol


kim seokjin

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

I think Jin’s first reaction would be to tell you how good you look to him with glasses on. He’d never agree with you when you think you’re ugly since in his eyes it is just not possible. However, if wearing glasses really makes you that uncomfortable, he’d help you find alternatives, e.g. contact lenses, or maybe new glasses that fit you better. He’d be supportive but he’d still tell you that seen from his perspective, there’s no reason for you to feel insecure.



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