the men that come to mind

When I’m on a date, especially dinner, I’ll giggle when the food comes and be like, “this looks so yummy! I absolutely have to take a picture. I guess it’s just the 18 year old in me.” cue another giggle. “Do you mind?”. My date usually says something like, “You’re so cute. You kids and your technology.” and then he poses for the shot as if I’m taking one of him. I’ve slowly started acting a little naive and I really play on the “this is all so new and amazing to me!” thing, because in my experience, it makes these men feel really good about themselves. It makes them feel like they’re really taking care of some poor girl who needs it and showing her things she wouldn’t normally get.

Don’t get me wrong, I act experienced as hell and let them know I mean business when it comes to allowance talks and stuff, but mainly I just try to have fun. 

Point is, you don’t have to follow all the advice you see on Tumblr. You don’t have to act like you’re accustomed to the lifestyle. You don’t have to act naive like me either. Do what feels good to you and what works for you. You got this, sister.

The third of four prompt fills promised to new followers of @geekyangie. This one is for @sherlockholmesismytype. The prompt was Sherlock undercover as a bartender at a 1920s Speakeasy, where Molly comes in for a drink to get her mind off colleagues who are intimidated by her being a woman. Enjoy!


Why, Molly thought morosely as she plunked herself onto a barstool, had she ever believed it would be easier to take up her chosen profession in the United States? Men were men no matter what country they came from, and she was sick of how intimidated they were by her being a female, much less a doctor. The fact that she worked in the morgue and did autopsies didn’t help; she couldn’t begin to count the number of ‘helpful’ suggestions that she might be better off delivering babies or dealing with ‘women’s problems’ she’d been subjected to in the past six months. She was glad her friend Meena had recommended this place to her just the other day; Molly was more than desperate for a nice cold gin and tonic to wash away the taste of male testosterone clogging her (figurative) senses.

“I should have asked that idiot Moran if he’d rather I told him to turn his head and cough,” she muttered to herself as she waited for the bartender to show up and take her order.

The sound of choked off laughter brought her out of her reverie, and she looked up to see the single most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on standing in front of her, still chuckling. At her highly inappropriate words. How perfectly mortifying.

She was still trying to work out a way to explain herself when she realized he was asking her a question. “What’s your poison?” he repeated patiently as she just gawped at him like an idiot.

Keep reading

You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you, and when the time comes you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.

He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.

Now find your team, and get to work.

Black women: make a bunch of hit songs about how they love black men.

Black women: make music videos about love starring, almost exclusively, black men as their romantic interests.

Black women: statistically the least likely to date outside their race.

White woman: *moves her left pinky toe on time to the downbeat.

Black men: “yall god damn nappy headed weave wearing black Bitches better watch out! These wonderful white beckys coming for yall!” gets thousands of likes and retweets from other black men cosigning.

Black women:….maybe we should rethink our stance…

Black men: *loses mind* FINE go head and kill the community if u want, bed wench.

Black women:

Originally posted by jmsv

So many straight guys are so horrified by the remotest possibility of someone they’re not attracted to being attracted to them.

Like given the smallest suspicion of a one-way crush they’ll be truly awful to women they consider unattractive or men who like men, even if the person in question doesn’t even come close to flirting with them.

But then they turn around and fucking harass women who don’t return their attraction - with zero self-awareness. It’s truly mind-boggling to see the same guy say some cruel shit to repel the ‘advances’ of a gay man or a fat girl who barely glanced in his direction and like thirty seconds later be pushing his luck with some girl who’s already said three times she’s not interested.

That’s fucked up.

Chill out indie playlist 😌😌

505- Arctic monkeys
Life is simple in the moonlight- The strokes
Chocolate- The 1975
Face it- Beach fossils
Tyrants- Catfish and the bottlemen
Coming of age- Foster the people
Read my mind- The killers
Got no love- The kooks
Thread the needle- The griswolds
Kids- MGMT
Stand on the horizon- Franz Ferdinand
Afterlife- Arcade fire
Weight of love- The black keys
Flaws- Bastille
Hold back the river- James Bay
Anna sun- Walk the moon
Undercover Martyn- Two door cinema club
Step- Vampire weekend
Spanish sahara- Foals
My love- Circa waves
Isabel- The wombats
Miracle aligner- The last shadow puppets
Tides- The xx
Clearest blue- CHVRCHES
About you- San cisco
Ace in the hole- Saint motel
Slow life- Of monsters and men
Single- The neighbourhood
Waves -Sundara karma
A rush of blood- Coasts

You can follow this playlist here:
Surviving Time With Toxic Family/Friends

• Be the light
• No ego
• No emotionally heavy convos
• Stay in your center
• Take nothing personal
• Inhale deep
• Exhale slow
• Focus on the good––only
• Send love and light through the entire space
• Come light
• Leave light
May the Force be with you. ✨  

–– Lalah Delia | VibrateHigherDaily

anonymous asked:

How did u learn how to flirt? u seem like u get men all the time.

men approach me at times, sure. i pay them dust now because i got a man lol. but tbh some things just come naturally, some people are just natural flirts, but i think it’s def possible to improve your skills.

i remember when i was younger i used to study certain sex symbols & their mannerisms. think jessica rabbit, marilyn monroe, dita von teese, etc. & i noticed how everything they do is very fluid, nothing is forced. it all seems very natural. it’s because in their minds they know that they’re the shit, and it radiates off them without them saying so. they’re bad as hell, but they’re modest.

i don’t give up too much information. try to leave something to the imagination. i don’t tell a man too much about me or get really personal when we first start to get to know each other  i also never wear something that shows my boobs AND my ass/legs. if i’m wearing a lowcut top i’m fully covered from the waist down. if i’m wearing a tight, short skirt then i’m fully covered up top. if i’m not showing anything then my outfit is very formfitting and shows off my silhouette. it’s all about that air of mystery 💋

i act like i’m on the same level as every man that shows interest in me, because i am. regardless of how attractive, well known, or rich he is. you will never catch me saying “he’s out of my league” because i hold myself in high regard. i’m in whatever league i want to be.

i also NEVER allow men to intimidate me. when you’re constantly worrying and thinking about “what if i don’t do it right” “omg i’m gonna mess up” “i can’t believe he’s talking to me” it shows. it makes you come off very awkward, try hard and desperate. there’s no need to be nervous, it’s just a man lmao.

that being said, i’ve also mastered the art of stroking a man’s ego.  i laugh at shitty jokes. i act like i’m extremely interested in whatever they’re saying. i make little remarks on how “strong” he is even if he has toothpick arms. if you make a man feel good, he’s putty in your hands, i promise.

if you read the book the art of seduction (which i recommend) you’ll notice the author talks about different archetypes of seducers. ie. the siren, the rake, the ideal lover,etc. i encourage you find the archetype which feels most relatable & natural to you.


anonymous asked:

I'd love to hear your thoughts on La La Land's ending! If you don't mind.

SO HERE WE GO. I’ve heard a lot of think pieces/complaining about how the movie is about hollywood, or white men saving jazz, or unrealistically fulfilling your dreams all at once, etc., but I don’t see how you can watch that ending and come away with those things. Sure, the movie dabbles in all of that, and you can make commentary on how unrealistic that is, or in the case of John Legend’s role in the movie, how shitty it is—but then, there’s that ending. That glorious, perfect pitched ending.

The last we see of Mia and Sebastian together, they’re making a choice many of us have or will make in our lives; a turning point in a relationship, where you have to choose what you’re willing to sacrifice, or give to keep the love that you have. They make what I would say, as a person who has made this very choice, the right choice, and seperate for the good of their careers. And realistically, painfully so, that is a lasting break—we jump five years, and things have happened that make their separation permanent (Mia is married, she has a child). That’s startling and, because it happens so quickly instead of the slow and quiet way that it occurs in real life, unbelievable. We think, they’re playing a trick on us, this can’t possibly be where this movie of sparkling lights and love songs is going to end. But the longer the scene goes on, and we see Mia in the car with her husband, so comfortable, it starts to set in, and then, even though we know it’s coming, when she sees the sign at his club—the sign she made for him—we feel the way she does. It’s been five years for her, and she has that space that we, as an audience, were not given from the main storyline, so she’s surprised, and suddenly longing, and that’s an emotion we can feel. 

But the ending isn’t about where Mia finds herself, it’s about Sebastian. He plays his song, and the fantasy begins for him and we get to go along with it. Mia may have moved on, but Sebastian is closer to us, he still feels that sting when he sees her, much worse then she felt. The cinematography here is beautiful, and the music carries us through it, and it’s satisfying, just to retrace the steps of where we have already been with these characters, to hear the same cords they sang together. You can’t tell me it didn’t hit you when, in the bar, the music swelled and he walked right up to kiss her. 

Because this is from Sebastian’s point of view, we see the way he wished it had been, how they could have stayed together, and it is so firmly planted in what he could have done differently. Mia still takes the audition, gets the job, goes to Paris, but he never takes that job with the band, he’s there at her show, he goes to Paris with her. His fantasy includes being there for her, in a way that he never really was during their relationship. He puts her, her dreams and ambitions, first, so that in the end, Mia ends up exactly where she is now, where she’s meant to be, but she’s married to him instead. And even while he’s thinking of it, the unreality of that situation bleeds in—through the film set, the Van Gogh-esque swirls of Paris. It could never have been real, because he was a different man then, he would have always made those choices. He had yet to learn his lesson.

In the end, they are able to smile at each other and part again, because this isn’t a love story. This is a story about growing up. It’s a story about how a person can mean so much to you during one point in your life, how they can change you, can take up all of the space in your world completely, and how much you can love them in that moment—and how beautiful that is. It isn’t lasting, it’s not guaranteed, it’s something you may regret and dwell on over and over later, but it is beautiful. Sebastian’s dream looks so unreal because not only did it not happen, it couldn’t have happened; there were a gulf of reasons why the two of them never would have worked out, even if he had gone with her to Paris. 

But they changed each other. They nudged each other towards their futures. They were each other’s turning point, towards success, their dreams, all the things that felt out of reach when they met. So when they said, before they parted, I will always love you, what they really meant was; I will always love what you have given me. 

We often think of peace as the absence of war, that if powerful countries would reduce their weapon arsenals, we could have peace. But if we look deeply into the weapons, we see our own minds - our own prejudices, fears and ignorance. Even if we transport all the bombs to the moon, the roots of war and the roots of bombs are still there, in our hearts and minds, and sooner or later we will make new bombs. To work for peace is to uproot war from ourselves and from the hearts of men and women. To prepare for war, to give millions of men and women the opportunity to practice killing day and night in their hearts, is to plant millions of seeds of violence, anger, frustration, and fear that will be passed on for generations to come.
—  Thich Nhat Hanh
Black men and their attitudes...

If you read that title and got offended, then I hope you get just as offended when you see people, especially black men, spewing that about black women.

What if the tables were turned and we start addressing black men and their attitudes?

What if we said, black men complain about black women’s attitudes, but are the main one’s calling people bitches, simps and spewing rage filled nonsense 24/7. They are the main one’s with sour attitudes 90% of the time and no one checks them for it, but black women get a lecture. They wake up angry at the world. Black men complain about attitudes but fetishsize white and non-black Latina women’s attitudes. 

The first thing that comes to our mind when we see “Black men have attitudes” is to defend them against it because we believe they’re entitled to have one because of racism and unfair treatment of them in society.

That doesn’t happen with black men. In their minds, black women can’t  have attitudes like them If we experience discrimination we’re not allowed to be angry. If we see slander against us we’re not allowed to be angry, if we see racism against us we’re not allowed to be angry too. It doesn’t conform to or satisfy their patriarchal beliefs drenched in misogyny and sexism. We’re suppose to be docile and smile in the midst of our suffering, because you know it appeases their male gaze.

But there’s a disconnect from black men towards black women, because of their strong alliance to male hood aka misogyny, sexism and patriarchy.

In their minds, we can’t have them because they already see us through the lens of white racism. As masculine, overbearing, and not human, so when we do it, it they condemn it on us because in their minds that’s not how black women should be acting. 

Their complaints about black women’s attitudes is influenced by misogynoir. Apparently they can have attitudes but black women can’t. 

When they have one, it’s suppose to be seen as them telling their story and we’re suppose to respect it. But when black women have one, despite our hardships we’re shamed.

And notice I singled out black women, because they only do this to black women. They either become full on women’s rights supporters, or they fetishsize the attitudes of non-black/mixed race Latina women and think attitudes on white or Asian women are cute.

Check your misogynoir at the door…

Censorship came from some of my own comrades because I was treating such ‘unnatural’ themes as homosexuality. Anarchism was already enough misunderstood, and anarchists considered depraved; it was inadvisable to add to the misconceptions by taking up perverted sex-forms, they argued. Believing in freedom of opinion, even if it went against me, I minded the censors in my own ranks as little as I did those in the enemy’s camp. In fact, censorship from my comrades had the same effect on me as police persecution; it made me surer of myself, more determined to plead for every victim, be it one of social wrong or of moral prejudice.
The men and women who used to come to see me after my lectures on homosexuality, and who confided to me their anguish and their isolation, were often of finer grain than those who had cast them out. Most of them had reached an adequate understanding of their differentiation only after years of struggle to stifle what they had considered a disease and a shameful affliction. One young woman confessed to me that in the twenty-five years of her life she had never known a day when the nearness of a man…. did not make her ill…. She could not face marriage, and she dared not confide in her fiance or friends. She had never met anyone, she told me, who suffered from a similar affliction, nor had she ever read books dealing with the subject. My lecture had set her free; I had given her back her self-respect.
This woman was only one of the many who sought me out. Their pitiful stories made the social ostracism of the invert seem more dreadful than I had ever realized before. To me anarchism was not a mere theory for a distant future; it was a living influence to free us from inhibitions, internal no less than external, and from the destructive barriers that separate man from man.
—  Emma Goldman, Living My Life
no but can you imagine

Yuuri decides to retire and for the shits and giggles cites pregnancy as his main reason for leaving men’s single skating

jokes on him because EVERYONE believes him: suddenly Phichit’s Instagramming a shit storm, Minami’s crying in a corner and already picking out baby shower gifts, the story’s blasted on the front page of every sport’s magazine worldwide, Chris is shaking his head like “yo i told you to use protection,” and Leo’s ready to come bless this child into the world as Guang-Hong’s mind breaks because Yuuri’s a man and Victor’s a man?? Poor baby’s so confused

Meanwhile Victor’s got the happiest expression on his face and he’s bawling and rubbing his cheek against Yuuri’s stomach and Yuuri just goes


bonus: Yurio’s already thinking of teaching the kid how to ice skate and coordinating baby clothes with tiger prints and and and


#chill levels in the negative digits 

Gentle reminder

I am acutely aware that yaoi fangirls fetishize male love, a fact that makes me uncomfortable at best and violated at worst in many fandom spaces.

From a gay man (with love): please know your place. Know that being heavily invested in a show because there is a beautifully written, canon gay relationship cannot compare to being heavily invested in a show because it’s directly relevant to your life. Know that your excitement from witnessing two men kissing is compounded tenfold when it means something deeply personal to you.

Fetishizing gay male relationships on fictional shows translates to diminishing and, by extension, disrespecting irl gay male relationships.

Gay men do not belong to you, not in fiction and not in reality. Our lives are not tv shows for prying eyes. Be aware of the difference between media and reality…AND know the effects one has on the other. We are all 110% welcome to love this show, but please keep in mind that the tears I shed over viktor and yuuri come from a very different place than yours.

Soulmate AU #1 Charles Xavier

AU: Everyone has the first sentence their soul mate will say to them tattooed onto their body.

Originally posted by julee-art

Not my gif

Words: too many… 2357

Warnings: I didn’t proofread, like one swearword, fem!reader

A/N: I have come to the conclusion that there are by far not enough soulmate AUs with the x-men, so I decided to try my luck. I hope it’s not too bad lol enjoy! xoxo

“Hey, let’s get a coffee after this!”, Kim suggested, picking up a bunch of flyers and dropping them down a stairwell. You watched them sail to the ground one by one, feeling their flowing movements tickle your mind. “I can’t, I have a lecture.”

“Come on!”, she groaned and waving a You only live once flyer in front of your face. “You hate that class. And the professor and the book.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have to go.” Silence. “No offence, but how the hell are we even friends? Like, how have we become acquainted?”, Kim asked. “Opposites attract.” “Which is why your soul mate is going to be the most outgoing party person you have ever met!”, she said, leaning against the rail. “You should meet him half way. If he’s a party person, you will meet him at a party. Which means that you have to attend a party. Ideally the Christmas Festival tomorrow night.”

“If you want me to come, you could just ask.”, you replied and put the pile of books you were carrying onto the windowsill next to you. “You wouldn’t come.” “Well, I am here, helping you carry out invitations to some kind of drug convention.” “Good point.” “I know.”

Keep reading


We’re Scotsmen. We’re brave, and we’re strong, and we have God on our side, so why should we waste time with all this shite? Aye. I was like-minded. Then I went to France, and I became a soldier. I saw what a modern, well-trained army can do. Oh, it’s a pretty sight at first… Seeing them all marching together in their neat rows and columns, music playing, banners waving… So pretty, you want to smile. I laughed, too, the first time. Then they fired the first volley. First, you see the flash of metal in the sun. Together, as one, an entire line of men raise their muskets, aim, and let loose. The musket balls come tearing across the field like a sheet of metal rain, cutting down men left and right without mercy. Sound of gunfire… Rolling thunder across the hills. By the time the last of it fades, the second volley is already on its way. I realized it takes more than courage to beat an army like that. It takes discipline. It takes a well-trained soldier… an army of soldiers. Now, if we have the discipline to stand together, to march together, and to fight together, then by God, I ken we will win together.

Jamie Fraser, Outlander, season 2, Je Suis Prest