When I started going to middle school, my father told me that I should stay away from boys, because they’re “disgusting and dangerous”, according to him.
I disagreed with this, and thought to myself: “No, men can be good as well!”
So when I was doing some research on my old phone, I found this huge movement called feminism, which strived towards equality for men and women.
“This is it,” I thought, “This is what I’ve been looking for!”
So, I was a liberal feminist for a couple of years, not knowing that there were other types of feminism. I didn’t call myself a liberal feminist either; just a feminist.
When I started posting about it on my little Instagram page, I was being tormented by boys who also knew about the feminist movement, and HATED it; I got death threats, rape threats, I was being ridiculed, all that.
I felt bad about myself, so I started including men more. I posted about bathrooms for men and their children, I posted about men being raped by women, I was a huge trans activist, I have thought about whether I was trans, I called myself pansexual (I was caught in the “hearts not parts” superiority complex), I thought about being “agender” because I didn’t “feel” like any gender… I was the ideal intersectional feminist.
I wasn’t a fan of certain things though.
I hated the makeup industry and the sex industry and the pro hoe culture and the pro-islam/anti-christianity behaviour, but I really didn’t understand why. I started posting stuff about me disliking it, vaguely, because I didn’t get it myself, so maybe someone would be able to explain that to me.
I got loads of hate, again, primarily from liberal feminists this time. They told me the key to equality was freedom of choice.
Then I started to think. Men had asked me very often whether they are able to hit women, since I preached “equality”, and that had me confused. Maybe equality wasn’t the thing I was looking for.
A couple of months ago, in December, I made a Tumblr blog. Everyone told me to do it, because I apparently looked and behaved like someone who uses Tumblr on the regular. After hearing this for a couple of years, I decided the time had come.
I followed some tags, including “feminism”. I’m not sure how it happened, but by the time I found ONE small post about radical feminism, I immediately agreed.
Radical feminists had such a thing for putting things down logically, with sources and all, and I was… impressed. I started to feel less hopeless and lonely.
And after all this time, I let my dad know that I hate men. For some reason, this got him very mad. Wasn’t he the one who told me men should be avoided, and hated? :) Why is he mad that I will never marry or come close to any non-gay man? :)
Mind you, my father was and is very abusive, mentally and physically, pro-patriarchy, and a full on misogynist.
Men KNOW their kind is evil. They don’t want US to know. They only want their close ones, their mothers, their daughters, their sisters, to “know”, but not really KNOW. They want them to believe that men can be very dangerous, but not that men are actually extremely dangerous. They want them to hide and be polite, rather than get mad and fight for their rights. That would be… disadventageous to them as well. That’s why they’re so anti-feminism.
My father is a conservative man, though. Leftist men would be better, right? Wrong.
I once read a post saying: “The difference between liberal and conservative men is that liberal men want women to be public property, and conservative men want them to be private property.”
This helped me so much. I forgot whose post it was, but thank you so much. This is why covering yourself up and exposing yourself both feel so… oppressive. I felt uncomfortable about both, but I always failed to realise.
Thank you, radical feminists, I now understand everything so much better. Thank you.
“Caught her trespassing at the crime scene,” he said. “You said to call you if anything ‘weird’ showed up. Well, she had this on her.” He held up an EMF meter.
“Hmm,” Sam said, concealing his surprise. Whoever they had caught was either an amateur ghost hunter or on the job… “Did you ask what it is?”
“We tried,” the sheriff said. “But the only thing we’ve been able to get out of her is ‘bite me.’” Sam had to bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said. The sheriff led him to the interrogation room and Sam followed him in.
He was glad the deputy and sheriff both had their backs to him because he was positive his expression had just been a mixture of surprise and amusement that he would not have been able to conceal. You hadn’t looked up when he entered and were staring, clearly pissed off, down at the table top. You were handcuffed to the chair you were in.
“Well, you better start talkin’,” the sheriff said. “This here just got federal. Agent White here is with the FBI.”
Your eyes shot up and you were struck with a dumbfounded expression for a split second before you recovered and arranged your face into one of vague dislike.
Sam crossed his arms and stared down at you, letting the silence stretch for a long moment. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks,” he said, nodding at the sheriff.
The sheriff gave him a nod of understanding and motioned for the deputy to follow him out. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sam’s face cracked into a smile and he rocked on his feet. “Well… this is a surprise,” he said.
You pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows. “You gonna help me out here?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, his smile growing. “I haven’t decided yet,” he teased.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with a laugh.
You raised a hand to tug at the handcuffs. “What’s it look like?”
“Yeeeeah. You got caught. I thought you ‘never got caught’,” he said, quoting some of your own words from not so long ago back to you.
You gave him a sassy look. “Well, are you going to help me out of here or not?” you asked again.
He sat down on the table near you. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “What’s in it for me?” He gave you a smile that left you feeling a little flushed but you smirked back at him and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sure we could figure something out. Assuming being my hero isn’t enough for you,” you flirted back.
Sam laughed. “Alright, you had me from the moment I walked in here,” he admitted, and he produced some handcuff keys.
Hi there! I just found your blog and I already love it! So I don't know if you still do request but if you do could you do one of Yamato meeting his s/o for the first time? Like how awkward would he be (when he realises that he has feelings for her etc) 😀 he is just an adorable puppy ❤
Enjoyy!!! Thank you for asking for Yamato. He doesnt get much love and I believe this is my first scenario about him. I can just imagine him being very dorky when meeting his s/o.
Yamato meeting the
Reader for the first time
“Come on you can do it.”
“We know you been eyeing them.”
“Why not just go talk to them?”
“Instead of staring like a creep.”
“I’m not staring like a creep,” Yamato objected to Kotetsu’s statement. Iruka, Genma, Izumo, and Kotetsu had been trying to persuade Yamato
for awhile now to go and talk to you. However, Iruka’s words of encouragement,
Genma’s obvious observations, and Izumo’s questioning were not helping Yamato
build his confidence.
“He’s going to start growing roots if he doesn’t get a move
on and go talk to them,” Genma mocked, playing with the senbon in his mouth
before taking a swig of his beer.
“Then all that will become of him will be a forest gremlin
that lives among the trees,” Izumo added, chuckling.
“Cut it out. I haven’t had a reason to talk to them is all,”
Yamato meekly defended.
“Who needs a reason? Just go over there and talk to them,”
Genma countered, looking exasperated.
“Kakashi, maybe you should demonstrate,” Iruka suggested
“Well I guess, if I have to,” Kakashi drawled as he slowly
“NO! I’ll go,” Yamato objected as he scurried out of his
seat passed Kakashi.
Kakashi shrugged as he sat back down as Genma smirked.
Yamato’s buddies watched him as he traveled to the other side of the restaurant
bar where a lone figure sat. They were a Konoha ninja and were sipping on a
small cup of sake.
Yamato was extremely nervous. He wasn’t sure what he was
going to say. Well, he had a few things he could say that he had been preparing
in case he did ever need to break the nice with you. Yamato had seen you
around town before and you had always caught his eye. You were breath-taking to
his eyes, but he was never to sure how he should approach you. He wasn’t even
too sure what your personality was like. He just knew he was attracted to you.
The closer he got to you, the more Yamato could feel his
hands starting to sweat and his throat go dry. What should he say? You were
within reach and hearing now for Yamato. As he approached you, he was so focused on you that he didn’t see the person that came up to pass him. The person bumped
Yamato on accident and with Yamato’s clammy hands the drink almost fell, if it
had not been for your quick reflexes.
You had grabbed the beer bottle only an inch after Yamato
had dropped it. Your cool eyes met Yamato’s wide brown eyes. You gave him a
questioning look as you handed the beer bottle back to him.
“I thought Shinobi were more tactful,” you stated, your
Yamato seemed at a loss for words as he blinked a few times,
grasping his beer bottle.
“Sorry about that…. I guess I’m just nervous,” Yamato
rushed, feeling uneasy.
“Why are you nervous?” You looked at him curiously, turning
fully towards him on your seat.
“I think I just met an angel,” Yamato spitted out without
thought, his face and tone solemn. Internally he was slapping himself in the
face as he anxiously waited for your response.
You stared wide eyed at Yamato, taking in his features,
before you broke out into laughter. “Hahahahahha… Is that the best pick up line
you got?” You mocked, not taking him seriously.
“I’m sure I could think of a few more throughout that night
if you’ll have me,” Yamato replied with a small smile, chuckling nervously. He
was scratching at his cheek, his fingers around his beer bottle twitching
nervously at the criticalness in your eyes.
“Grab a seat,” you spoke, amused after assessing him.
“Thanks.” Yamato let out a breath of relief as he sat down
next to you. He felt the awkward tension vanish the moment the impenetrable ice
broke between you two.
“Don’t thank me yet, you’re going to have to pay,” you
informed smug, the corners of your mouth twitching up in a smile.
Yamato smiled shyly. “That’s no trouble. I’m Yamato.”
“Y/N,” you responded, sweetly.
The two of you began talking, mentioning vaguely your likes
and dislikes. You two ordered food and it was a while until your food was
delivered to you. Both of you having ordered noodles as you guys continued to
have light conversation, Yamato still trying to impress you with his jokes and
When your bowls of noodles arrived, you dug in without
shame. The two of you sat for a moment in silence as you two ate your noodles
until Yamato pipped up.
“What do you call a fake noodle?” Yamato questioned, maintaining
a blank look.
“Hm?” you stated looking up from your bowl, giving Yamato a
“An impasta,” Yamato responded with a light smirk.
You almost choked at your intake of breath to snort. You
swallowed your food thankfully before eyeing him as you wiped your mouth with
your napkin politely. “You’re just chalk full of cheesy and punny jokes, aren’t
“I only try,” Yamato replied, graciously as he held a hand
to his chest and bowed slightly. You chuckled a bit louder, making Yamato’s
smile widened too.
“I don’t think I have ever met anyone quite as dorky as
you,” you stated casually.
“I sure hope dorky is a compliment in your book,” Yamato
mentioned, awkwardly, turning back to his food a light blush on his cheeks.
“It is,” you spoke firmly, confident.
Yamato’s blush darkened as he took a bite of his food,
coughing to cover his blush from your eyes.
Later when the meal was finished, Yamato walked you out of
the restaurant. You two stood outside in the crisp cool air of the evening. The
cold was a sharp contrast from the bustling heat of the restaurant you had been
in a moment before.
You coyly smiled up at Yamato, who seemed to be trying to
find the words to say in that moment.
“Thank you for the meal,” you stated, watching Yamato as he
“Yea, I’m glad I let you join me… I mean you letting me join
you, haha,” Yamato chuckled nervously.
You couldn’t help but smile; Yamato had a cute charm about
him. “Maybe you could join me again sometime,” you ventured, smoothly.
“Uh.. yea. Yes. I would definitely like that. If you didn’t
mind that is,” Yamato agreed, caught off guard. His eyes had widened in
excitement and a smile formed on his lips.
“Great. I’ll see you around then, Yamato,” you spoke coolly,
about to turn and leave when you stopped.
“Oh I forgot,” You mentioned turning back around quickly.
Yamato’s head snapped up at your words, curiously and was
utterly shocked as you pecked him on the lips. He was too stun to speak as his
face turned cherry red. You giggled upon seeing his face when you retreated,
smiling proudly as you turned away once more.
“Now you’ve been kissed by an Angel! Don’t forget to tell
your friends at the bar!” You sang, merrily as you skipped off back home.
Yamato’s heart had begun pounding in his chest
and his thoughts were running wild. You were more than he expected and he had
enjoyed your company. This night with you was more than he imagined and he knew
his friends were going to question him like you said. He wasn’t sure what he
was going to say because he was afraid of the thoughts running through his
head. He knew he was not only kissed by an angel but he was afraid he might
have fallen for one now as he made his lazy way back to the bar.
“So, Aaron.” Robert pushed open one of the heavy glass doors, flashing him a grin over his shoulder. “Are you ready to get the full Robert Sugden university experience?”
Aaron shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”
when aaron meets robert on the first day of university, he doesn’t expect the other man to end up defining the three years he spends there. that was just the robert sugden university experience, he supposed.
Aaron didn’t even want to go to university, he grumbled to himself as he stood outside an empty lecture theatre, turning his phone on and off airplane mode, vainly hoping his mobile data would magically start working. He hadn’t realised this building was literally a dead end when it came to mobile reception, so now he was stranded, with no way of actually checking where he was supposed to be that morning.
(If he hadn’t been hungover at orientation, maybe - maybe he’d have remembered where exactly his class was, but he’d been out the previous night with his new roommates, and well - Aaron had been lucky to make it through the day without puking his guts up.)
He’d planned to go to student IT and ask them to hook his phone up to the campus internet, he really had, but that meant admitting to the smarmy blonde tech guy he’d met at orientation that he genuinely hadn’t listened to a word he’d said when he’d explained how to connect to the WiFi.
Aaron didn’t want to prove him right, thank you very much.
(Not after the smarmy tech guy had made a comment about how Aaron looked halfway to death and it was only the first day of university.)
His phone was clearly feeling as stubborn as he was there and then, refusing to load the timetable he’d accessed that morning. Aaron swore he’d triple checked the timetable, making sure he had the right room.
Sighing, Aaron slid down the wall, sitting on the tiled floor. He was at the end of a quiet hallway, no idea where the hell his introduction to management and marketing class was actually on, and wondering if he could just drop out, and it was only day one.
His mum was going to kill him for skipping classes the first week, if she found out.
The deal was that Aaron would go to university, get a business degree, and then she’d get off his case about everything, basically.
He couldn’t imagine having to go through three years of this. Three years of trying to figure out the stupidly large campus, trying to figure out where his lectures were actually on, never mind the impending workload he was dreading.
This was always going to be a disaster. If Aaron made it to Christmas without dropping out, it would be a miracle.
Of course the smarmy blonde idiot who worked in student IT was standing in front of him, a messenger bag slung across his broad shoulders, the blue jumper he was wearing hugging tightly to every muscle of his body, blond hair messily pushed off his forehead, the kind of casual gorgeous Aaron never could be.
He was stupidly good-looking.
“Nah, decided to sit here instead of going to class,” Aaron replied, unable to keep the snark out of his voice. He was hardly sitting here for the fun of it, spending the first day of university hiding in a random corridor.
“Mind if I join you?” He didn’t seem phased by his annoyance, standing, hands on hips, blatantly looking Aaron up and down. Aaron was willing himself not to flush under the other boy’s gaze, but he wasn’t entirely sure it was working, his cheeks hot.
“I do, actually,” Aaron said, giving Robert a disdainful look.
The blond ignored Aaron’s snappy tone, easing himself into a sitting position on the floor next to Aaron, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He was wearing a ridiculously well fitting pair of trousers, the dark blue material tight around his thighs. “You a first year?”
Aaron was about to make another snappy comment, but he held his tongue, figuring he should probably give the other boy a chance. He’d have a fairly shit time at university if he lost it with every person he vaguely disliked, wouldn’t he? “Yeah.”
“I’m in second year,” he offered, rather unhelpfully. “Computer science. You?”
“Business management.” Aaron picked a loose thread on the cuff of his hoodie, not quite looking at the blond. “And yeah, I am lost. Stupid timetable won’t work.”
“Reception is terrible in this building. You not on the campus WiFi?” Robert’s grin was enough to send Aaron around the twist, a knowing smirk on the blond’s face.
Aaron rolled his eyes in response, his focus on the noticeboard on the opposite wall. It was advertising some play happening a month from now, leaflets for clubs and societies scattered across the board.
He wished he wanted to get involved with everything going on, but the mere idea of walking into a room full of strangers and trying to be friendly with them all was absolutely terrifying.
(Terrifying, and entirely unappealing.)
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?” Aaron raised an eyebrow, giving
“Because I’ll sort your WiFi out,” the blond rolled his eyes, holding out a hand, giving Aaron an expectant look.
Aaron reluctantly handed over his phone, unlocking the screen before he passed it over, glad he didn’t have to fumble with the access code. That was all down to Paddy, his (former) step-father giving him a new phone as a going away present, one of the ‘fancy pants smart ones’, to quote Paddy’s exact words.
“I’m Robert, by the way,” the blond introduced, fiddling with the settings on Aaron’s phone.
the vague feeling that someone you know dislikes you but isn’t explicitly saying it since they don’t seem to enjoy your company or respond to your words and most of all you simply get the strong feeling that they hate you but the fact is you can’t tell because you know you’re often paranoid but you also know that you tend to give vague hints of dislike rather than speaking about it and that someone could feasibly do the same to you
this is what happens when children or incredibly immature adults are given the same amount of power when it comes to spreading “information” as someone with their figurative shit together. you get absolutely clear bullshit slander that, if it wasnt so fucking ridiculous that no one is taking it seriously, could SEVERELY harm someone’s social standing or life in general. this is just… the most obvious case of slander ive ever seen, jesus fucking christ. someone take that kid’s computer away from them before they commit a genuine crime because they vaguely dislike someone for having a different sense of humor than them.
Now I'm curious about how Harry would feel about Percy after everything. Would Percy apologize to him about the letter, or just hope that he hadn't seen it? And would Harry be able to forgive him or would he never really be able to forget about Percy betraying his family?
To be perfectly honest, I think Harry is the least of Percy’s problems. Winning back his parents was more or less his first task. I’m sure Percy assumed that Harry would follow along with Ron and Ginny, with whatever they decided. He gets an apology, because everyone Percy hurt gets a heartfelt apology - some more effusive than others, and accepts at face value, as Harry is prone to do.
It’s probably true, too, that Harry would let Ron and Ginny guide his feelings on the subject, since that’s what he did throughout the series on the basis of Percy’s personality. Harry’s vague and inherited dislike for Percy throughout the series is tragic, of course, but not necessarily indicative of his feelings on Percy’s betrayal.
Hermione, on the other hand, would not let Ron or Ginny guide her feelings on the subject, and would make her position very clear from the beginning. It doesn’t quite cause a rift with Ron, but under other, less desperate circumstances, it might have.
Ladies and Genitals! Thank you all so much for the likes and reblogs of my last two stories! I’m so happy people liked them! This fic today was again inspired by conversation with @hannibalssweaters about that stare from dear old Papa II. “It’s like he’s staring right into your soul and then fucking it.” So uh…enjoy!
(Also, if people are looking for a beta reader, @espurrwhat is mine. She’s pretty damn awesome!)
Warnings: Might be slightly dub-con, graphic depiction of…well, an orgasm, there’s a boner in there…this is odd. XD
villains can be fun especially soap villains where they do ridiculously dramatic and terrible things and dont get me wrong, r*bert sucks and i hate him a lot, but he used to be at least entertaining to watch when he was cheating and lying and attempting to murder literally anyone he so much as vaguely disliked cus you knew that by the laws of soaps he was either a) gonna die in some ridic way like (being so hated that there are like twenty different ppl being suspected of your attempted murder? literally #iconic) or b) go out in a murderous blaze of glory only to disappear to some desert island, never to be seen again
except emm*rdale let the fan reaction to a dumb ship get in the way of what couldve been an iconic soap villain sl and instead turned him into some sad, wet lettuce of a character who gets to act awful-yet-still-somehow-boring and having his hand held through the narrative and.. yawn.
I am a highly introverted person and, just like any other introvert, I’ve never been fond of big crowds. In fact, I’ve never been fond of small groups of people if there’s at least one person I’m not overly familiar with. I don’t particularly like going out, meeting new people, holding public performances or any other activity which involves people that I don’t know and me, of course. I would much rather spend a Saturday night watching movies or reading than out in a club. Every day I go to school earlier hoping that I wouldn’t meet anyone from school on the tram and be forced to chit-chat. I rather search for things around the store for half an hour than ask a shop assistant. I text people when I’m outside their house so I wouldn’t have to go inside and talk to their family. I even got lost a few times because that seemed more normal to me than asking for directions. While I have no problems with online communication or even real-life communication when someone else approaches me, I am terrified of spontaneously talking to someone first. Small talk about the weather while I’m waiting for the bus with just one person on the station? Not my thing. Asking for a book at a library when I can’t find it myself? I’d rather look for it for hours. Calling a taxi? No, feeling anonymous in crowded buses is just fine. Seeing a famous person and asking for an autograph? No, lurking from the bushes is better. Making a phone call to order a pizza? I’d rather be hungry. Despite everything I’ve just said, I am not a necessarily shy person. I have no problems with raising my hand and talking in class, participating in friends’ conversations, attending small birthday parties, texting people I know… While I am mostly quiet, it’s not a rule; if the topic of discussion is interesting enough, I’ll be the loudest and most opinionated person in the group (small and familiar group, though). My idea of a perfect day involves not going anywhere, reading a good book, drinking tea, listening to nice music, playing with my dog, and turning in early. While it seems monumentally boring and too pretentious to people my age (which is 17, not 70, in case you weren’t sure), that’s the way I function. Most of the time, however, I go out if I’m invited to, despite not wanting to. I mostly do have fun for a few hours but I usually end up being the ultimate party pooper. I used to feel embarrassed and apologetic about all of it but I’ve recently realized that I shouldn’t be (or at least I convince myself that way). The thing about introversion is that it is often viewed as something fixable or temporary. ‘Oh, don’t worry, my daughter was also shy and quiet but she grew up into a beautiful, friendly girl.’ I still remember my parents’ friend commenting on the fact that I didn’t want to leave the car at social gatherings, and I still remember the seven-year-old me wondering why that lady thought that shy and quiet people weren’t beautiful. People are still telling me to come out of my shell, to embrace life and all the opportunities, to act spontaneously and stop planning everything, to stop acting like a 70-year-old, to go out more, to enjoy my wild, teenage years, or to just relax. While I am aware of certain aspects of my personality being endlessly frustrating, I don’t consider it to be a problem. I wasn’t born to be a PR person but there are other areas I could excel at. I may not be the best person to deliver a wedding toast, but I am a great listener and I know how to keep secrets. While my first impression skills are absolutely magnificent (stuttering, quietness, sweating, 'grumpy face’, awkward fake smiles, etc.), once I get to know someone, I could talk about everything for hours with them. And, since it takes a lot of time for people to get past my five layers of quietness, awkwardness, shyness, anxiousness and vague dislike, at least I know that friendships with people who choose to stick around are real and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. So, dear introverts, embrace your introversion! Don’t pretend to enjoy public speaking if you hate it. Don’t make lame excuses to avoid going out; you are allowed to just not want to go. Text people if calling makes you uncomfortable. Spend the big break in the classroom if you like it there more; you will not miss anything important anyway. Don’t participate in that conversation if you don’t feel like it. Don’t throw a big birthday party if you would rather celebrate it with a few friends. And always remember that the world will not fall apart if you miss that party next Saturday.
Just because you’re taking my clothes off does not mean you already know what I have underneath. It’s easy to roam your fingers around my skin but darling, to completely understand me is a different story. You have no idea about my superficial dislikes, my vague fears, loneliness, shyness, my hesitations. You don’t know how far my thoughts can wander, how big my plans are. You might think I’m just a piece of pretty face and a pair of dark brown eyes that you can kiss all night but boy I’m telling you, I am more than that. I am more than what your eyes can conceive. I am beyond what your mind can comprehend.