what i do every friday morning

so when it came time for all us ten year old boys to have a dick measuring contest we’d do it by way of bakugan, obviously, it being 2009ish, and there was always the one spoiled kid who’d pull this shit out of his backpack

strap that onto his wrist like it was a fuckin rolex and bust out his unbeatable deck full of cards that he got shipped in from china off eBay while the rest of us had to fucking check toyz R us every friday after school but they were always out of stock waiting for a new shipment except the shipments came in on saturday night when i had KARATE PRACTICE and my parents wouldnt take me after dinner so i had to wait until sunday morning and by then they were all gone but fucking NOAH still wanted to show off well fuck you NOAH! I have thousands of people on here who will listen to me trash talk you and where are you?! What are you doing?! You’re fucking nothing! You’re worthless NOAH

Anyway while i was googling that, i found this picture:


This has always been a tricky little topic for me.

Age three, my parents separated. So, I grew up with ‘home home’, my grandmother’s house (where my mum & I lived for years following the split), ‘dad’s home’ – and I also lived at my aunt’s house during the holidays while my mum had to work. In any case, ‘home’ was always a term in flux.

On a wider scale, ‘home’ often refers to where you are from. In my case, this is Birmingham.

I had never known anything different to Birmingham until I started studying at the University of Cambridge. During this time, I saw Cambridge as more my ‘home’ than Birmingham; after all, it was the first place I had ever discovered alone. The winding streets, the bustle of tourists – I found it magical and new and completely and utterly mine.

Alas, this was temporary.

After discovering I was to move to London last summer, there was a moment – you may possibly remember it, I wrote a blog post – where I sat in New Street station (or should I say, ‘Grand Central’) and felt slightly sad to leave Birmingham.

I’m not really sure why. My memories of Birmingham are not usually wholly positive, harking back to a time where an awkward teenager who didn’t quite fit roamed, yet to discover the breadth and the possibilities of the world outside the city she was currently residing in. Nevertheless, in Grand Central last year, I felt a small spark, a flicker, of what I think some people may feel when they think of ‘home’.

I haven’t felt that towards Birmingham since.

Each time I go back to visit Birmingham, there is a change to the city. A new coffee shop or restaurant is created, my usual bus no longer stops by my house – there’s even a new tram system which has been implemented. The city itself is slowly shifting towards a better future, a more streamlined look. It’s fabulous and fantastic – but it’s no longer the Birmingham of my upbringing. I feel with every new building that is built, with every new brick laid and splash of paint applied, the city is slowly shutting me out. I feel alien.

I have changed, the city has changed. We just don’t fit.

Less alien, however, is the once unfamiliar and intimidating life in London. Each day I step onto the Victoria Line with precise regularity. I understand the ins and outs of what you should and shouldn’t do here. I’ve adapted to the late nights, the early mornings, and I’m haphazardly juggling everything accordingly. My 10 months here have absolutely flown by in a whirlwind of tube journeys, brunches, Friday drinks and canal runs.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Central London still seems like an institution. Impenetrable.

But I have found an absolute sanctuary in my edge-of-Zone-2, pokey, £££££££ per month flat in Hackney Wick.

I’m currently writing this post in an #edgy vegan coffee shop and lunch spot called Mother, in Here East, a building which was once used by production/news companies during the Olympics, but which is now formed of empty spaces that are slowly becoming occupied by independent businesses. It’s an ideal spot, overlooking the canal in the sunshine – a people-watcher’s dream. Looking around, I can see a diverse stream of people walking and cycling along the canal today, or sunbathing, or drinking coffee, or having breakfast/lunch. There’s ‘90s music playing. I’m drinking a smoothie that has ‘cacao’ in it. I’m about to go to the gym.

I’ve never felt so free as I do here. I’ve never felt so accepted, even in Cambridge. Perhaps I wholeheartedly fulfil the artsy stereotype of the people who live here - I mean, I am currently wearing my mom jeans, an oversized cotton shirt thrown on over them, typing furiously on my Macbook with my large, taupe glasses on.

But perhaps I feel at home here in Hackney Wick because I’ve realised I don’t even have to try to fit in here, because everything and everyone is just so different. I walk along the canal and see people tending to their boats, some painting them, some watering plants on top of them, some hosting BBQs and drinking cider on them. Each and every life here is different, and it’s liberating. I’ve never felt like this before.

It’s made me want to try new things – for example, I went bouldering a couple of weeks ago with my housemates. Bouldering. It was incredibly fun, but I couldn’t quite get over the fact that I had done that, and enjoyed it. Me.

I feel less scared to be me. To discover new things. To fuck up.  

And perhaps this is what home feels like. Finding a place that allows you to be content in your own skin, your own body, your own mind. Finding a place that allows you to roam free. A place that accepts the fact that you’re a theatre-going, gin-and-elderflower drinking, life-drawing, book-reading, gym-going, (bouldering), stressed, single, account executive who is still figuring herself out and wanting to meet lots of different people with different experiences.

No doubt, I could go all statistical and strategic and say that factors such as age demographic, etc. widely affect attitudes/preferences towards a place. I don’t doubt that in the future, Hackney Wick will no longer feel like home – we are, after all, creatures who are in constant change. But right now, I’m home, and I’m happy.

Finn Balor - “I hope you choke on that watermelon seed”

Prompt: “I hope you choke on that watermelon seed”
Requested: by anon
Warnings: None
Words: 800+
Just a bit of an AU

This really wasn’t where you wanted to be in your life right now. Actually, this wasn’t where you wanted to be in your life. Period. You sat on the bed in the hotel room, just staring forward. You ignored the figure sitting in the chair to the side.

You leant against the headboard and pulled your knees to your chest. For weeks leading up to this moment you’d seen Bálor around everywhere. It started just at the cafe you went to every morning before work. Then at the supermarket, the subway where you get lunch every day and even the bar you and your friends religiously went to every Friday.

Keep reading

“Well, that was cute.”

Originally posted by brokencxstiel

Written by Christina

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2,448 

Request: “ Hi there. I really love your blog and was wondering if I could have an imagine with Peter? Where Tony is a family friend of Adrianna’s and he is very sarcastic in trying to set me up with Peter without Adrianna realizing it and it just gets all cute when Peter becomes all dorky and flustered when Tony brings her to the Avengers Pad to help with some of the mechanics. And the ending ends with Tony catching Adrianna and Peter in a kiss  Thanks, Love 💓 ” - from @misshollander1

A/N: I’m really sorry this took so long for us to do. We got a lot of requests at once, so it kind of got buried in our Google docs. I hope you guys enjoy it. As usual, please feel free to let us know if you have any feedback. :) 

Adrianna Emmons beat out the best and brightest engineers, many of whom had way more experience than she did, but she, somehow, managed to get a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering at eighteen years old, which led to her employment at Stark Industries. Her family goes far back with the Starks, back to Adrianna’s grandfather working with Howard Stark on the redevelopment of Dr. Abraham Erskine’s famous 1940’s formula. Working with Tony Stark was challenging, but Adrianna loved it. She loved building something new everyday, and working with the latest and greatest tools, as well as interacting with the world’s leading scientists and engineers.

Adrianna plopped the stack of papers onto her lab desk, straightening her glasses. She flipped open the specs for the next random modifications that Tony Stark gave her. She saw a diagram for some kind of wrist band with a miniature pressurized fluid cartridge, with a lever that fits into the wearer’s palm. She crinkled her brow. This wasn’t a typical Tony Stark device. She flipped through more of the specs, seeing an elastic mask with mobile eye covers. She gaped at the complex circuitry that was needed for the mask, which essentially had micro motion sensors that sensed the wearer’s eye lid and eyebrow movement, causing the mask to move with them. This definitely was not a Tony Stark tool. Why would Mr. Stark need an elastic mask and a web shooter? He had the Iron Man suits. She bit her lower lip and picked the phone on her lab desk, and held it to her ear, pushing the extension in for Mr. Stark’s lab.

“Mr. Stark’s lab, Pepper speaking,” The crisp voice of Pepper Potts filled Adrianna’s ear.

“Hi, Pepper, it’s Adrianna,” Adrianna answered, scanning through the rest of the specs Tony gave her. “I have some questions for Tony regarding the new modifications he gave me.”

“I’ll hand the phone to him,” Pepper said. Adrianna admired another specification for a full-body elastic and lycra suit, with an extensive amount of flexibility, allowing the wearer to complete complex acrobatics. She turned the page, and saw the details for gloves of the suit, with microscopic pores in the palms and fingertips. What was the deal? Adrianna wondered, contemplating what Tony had planned.

“Yo, M&Ms,” Tony shouted, using the childish nickname for her, based off of her last name of Emmons. “What’s up?” Adrianna heard the clanging off something metal falling off a contraption and Tony mumbling several swear words under his breath.

“I had some questions about the new specs you gave me this morning,” Adrianna answered, leaning on her foot.

“Shoot,” Tony said, his voice slightly muffled. He was probably working some new Iron Man mask.

“These specs aren’t for a new Iron Man suit,” Adrianna said, scanning the specs again. “Everything is composed of lycra or elastic, there is no armor on this suit whatsoever, the mask has expanding and contracting facial lenses, there are micropores in the fingertips of the gloves…” Adrianna’s voice trailed off, her whirling thoughts impairing her ability to speak. “What are these for, Tony?”

She heard a loud crash and she winced, knowing Tony was working on a new suit, or at least new flight boosters.

“They’re for a new recruit,” Tony groaned in response.

“A new recruit?” Adrianna repeated, planting her spare hand on the desk. “What new recruit? You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t realize that you wanted to know every single detail about my daily decisions, M&Ms,” Tony shot back at her, more loud clanging almost cutting his voice out. “You know, I went to the bathroom at around five a.m. this morning, and then Pepper and I had this-”

“Ew, please stop,” Adrianna said loudly, desperately not wanting Tony to finish his sentence. “I was just confused on why you didn’t clarify.”

“Just stop being so nosy and do your job, M&Ms,” Tony said. “Friday, go get the kid.” With that, Tony ended the call, leaving Adrianna with more questions than answers. She sighed and put the phone down on its stand, staring at the pile of specs. She should get to work since there were around fifty pages of information for her to decipher.


“Look, I’m just saying that I am perfectly capable of-” Peter said. It was irritating to him that Mr. Stark wouldn’t let him help with the modifications on his suit. Well, there were so many modifications, and they weren’t even touching his old suit, Mr. Stark was basically building him a brand new suit from scratch. Peter wanted to see the process, because of he was at Stark Industries. The Stark Industries! There he was, standing in Tony Stark’s personal lab as Tony completed finishing touches on one of his Iron Man suits.

“Look, kid,” Tony interrupted, waving a screwdriver at Peter, “We’ve been over this; I’m giving you an upgrade. Or rather, one of my engineers is. She-”

“She?” Peter repeated, his spine straightening and his eyebrows shooting up, almost off his forehead. “Did you say ‘she’?”

“Yeah, she,” Tony confirmed, focusing his attention back on the suit. “Adrianna. Smart kid. Known her since she was a fetus.” Tony glanced at Peter, who had a look of awestruck wonder and curiosity on his face.

“You could meet her. Friday,” Tony said, the volume of his voice increasing when he addressed the AI.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” The AI responded, making Peter flinch. Oh my gosh, that is so cool! Peter thought, looking for the speakers that blasted the AI’s voice into the lab.

“Where’s M&Ms?” Tony asked, dropping the screwdriver he was using and picking up a soldering gun, holding it against the suit, causing sparks to fly everywhere. Peter opened his mouth to comment on how Mr. Stark should use a welding mask, so he didn’t get a spark in his eyes, but Friday answered Tony’s question before Peter could get a sound out.

“She’s in the main mechanics laboratory, Mr. Stark,” Friday responded.

“Great,” Tony said, still soldering something in his suit. Peter just stood there, staring at Mr. Stark, unsure of whether he should go see this girl engineer, or if he should try to help Mr. Stark with his suit. Peter’s spider sense went off, letting him know that something was hurtling towards him. He held up his hand and caught a large monkey wrench. He glanced at Mr. Stark, who was standing there was a smirk on his face.

“Go away,” Mr. Stark said, waving Peter towards the door. “Go see M&Ms.” Peter smiled and darted out the door, curious and excited to meet a female engineer named M&Ms. Maybe she would have some advice for him about colleges.


Adrianna slipped on her prescription safety glasses, her regular glasses sitting on the table next to the specs for the circuitry inside the mask. She hunched forward, stabilizing her elbows on the table as she began to solder the wires together, focused on her work. She made good progress; sewing the suit, gloves, mask and shoes in about two hours. The mechanics for the wristbands, which she discovered were web shooters, took another hour. The trickiest part was the wiring the micro motion sensors in the mask since they were small and their circuitry was incredibly intricate. She finished soldering all of the wires for one of the lens. She put down the soldering gun, holding the mask up. Now she needed to see if the micro motion sensors worked. She was just about to pull the mask over her own head when someone tapped on the desk.

She jumped, almost dropping the mask, staring at the person who knocked on the desk with wide eyes. A boy. A cute one. To make matters worse, he looked to be around her age. She looked the boy up and down. He had brown hair styled into a modern take of a comb-over, a navy blue zip-up, jeans and a unit circle t-shirt drawn as a pizza. He had a soft jawline, giving him a slight babyface appearance. His eyes were what got her heart pounding like a drum. They were the riches brown she had ever seen, and they were wide as they drank her in. Maybe his heart was racing as much as hers was.

“Hi,” Adrianna squeaked out.

“Hi,” the boy said, his voice quiet.

“I’m Adrianna,” She said, turning her gaze back to the mask.

“P-Peter,” the boy said, stuttering in the most adorable way possible.

“What are you doing here, Peter?” Adrianna asked, risking another glance at him. He was staring at her as if she was the most precious piece of art in a museum.

“”I-I’m uh, um, I’m here for the, uh, um, s-suit,” Peter croaked out, pointing quickly at the mask in her hands before shoving his hands in his pockets. Or, at least he tried. One hand landed in his pocket, but the other one missed, sliding down his leg. Since he applied so much force on his hands, his hand missing the pocket caused him to stumble forward. Adrianna flinched, leaning away slightly as Peter tumbled towards her. The hand that missed his pocket shot out, landing on the table in front of Adrianna, stopping him from colliding into her. The result was Peter towering over Adrianna, staring at her with his gorgeous brown doe eyes. Was this Tony’s new recruit? Adrianna thought. 

“S-s-s-s-sorry,” Peter stammered, his eyes staring at her lips, which were parted slightly. Adrianna fixed her gaze on the neckline of Peter’s shirt, which had fallen open a little bit since he was leaning forward. She could see the gentle divet of between his pectoral muscles.

“It’s ok,” She mumbled, tearing her eyes from Peter’s muscles. Peter straightened, putting his hand slowly in his pockets. Thankfully, this time both of them hit their target.

“So, you’re here for the suit?” Adrianna asked, hoping her voice wasn’t going to betray her still-thumping heart.

“Y-yeah!” Peter said enthusiastically. “Are you finished?”

“I was just about to test the micro-motion sensors in the lenses in the mask,” Adrianna answered, holding the mask to Peter. “Do you want to try it?” Peter nodded and seized the mask from her hands, pulling it over his head. Adrianna focused on the lens, trying not to imagine Peter’s heart-melting eyes under them. The eyes started to expand and contract, rapidly. She smiled.

“Great! They work!” She said excitedly. Peter pulled the mask off, the motion messing up his formerly-groomed hair. He looked even cuter with messy hair.

“That is awesome!” Peter said, the biggest smile breaking across his lips. “Thank you so much!” Peter’s eyes met Adrianna’s again.

“No problem,” She said quietly, giving him an equally wide smile.

“Hey, Parker,” Tony’s voice rang over the intercom.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” Peter yelled, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Cap’s about six hours from Germany. We need to leave. Now.” Tony said his voice firm. Adrianna pursed her lips, trying to think of why Captain America being in Germany would be important.

“On my way!” Peter shouted, darting towards the door. Before he left, he turned to Adrianna. “Thank you, Adrianna.” He flashed a sweet smile at her before he turned on his heel and ran to wherever he was going. She sighed, resting her elbow on the desk and propping her head on her hand. About a second later, she heard several thumps and saw Peter sprint back into the lab, running to Adrianna. She straightened, feeling her brow furrow in confusion.

“Peter, you’re supposed to-” She started to say but Peter interrupted her.

“I forgot something,” Peter said. He reached her and grabbed her face, slamming his lips against hers. Adrianna felt the world stop, even if it was impossible, as she closed her eyes and savored the kiss. She raised a hand and rested her fingertips on Peter’s stomach, feeling a set of surprisingly firm abdomen muscles. Peter gasped a little and pulled away from her, staring at her. There was a moment of silence as both Peter and Adrianna recovered from the kiss. There was a slow clap, causing them to jump. Peter faced the doorway, holding Adrianna behind him, so she could be protected from the ‘dangerous’ genius, billionaire philanthropist standing in the doorway, clad in his Iron Man suit, leaning against the door frame, slow-clapping.

“Well, that was cute,” Tony said, straightening. “But we have to go now.” With his comment still in the air, he flew off, the sound of his modified boosters echoing down the hallway. Peter stepped away, blushing.

“I, uh, I should go,” He mumbled, motioning towards the door.

“Okay,” Adrianna said, pursing her lips. “The rest of your suit is already on the jet since Tony said you might need it on short notice. Peter glanced at her as he walked to the door, with a look of wonder in his eyes.

“Thanks, Adrianna.” Peter’s voice made her heart melt and she smiled wide. Peter started sprinting when he reached the doorway.

“I’m coming, Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted, his voice fading down the hallway.

Adrianna smiled, admiring Peter’s dorkiness. 

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After Easter Egg Hunt

Words: 1222
Tony Stark X Reader
Request:  “So you know I’m going to request something Tony Stark right? I thought about Tony has the reader searches his home for a pink egg and in that egg is a ring marriage proposal. The rest I leave to you have fun LOL.” 
- @tonystarksgirl

“Five more minutes!” You groaned to FRIDAY as your morning alarm went off.

“I’m sorry Miss [Y/L/N], but I can’t do that.” The A.I. voice apologized. “I was instructed by Mr. Stark to wake you up at exactly this time.”

“What time is it?” You rolled over in the bed, wishing that for just once your boyfriend would leave you out of his wild schemes.

“It’s six AM Miss. [Y/L/N].” FRIDAY responded.

“Siiiixxx?” You whined out every syllable like an upset child. “FRIDAY call Tony.”

“Certainly, Miss. [Y/L/N].” There was a ringing tone and soon enough, Tony’s face was floating above you in the bed.

“Good morning, Darling!” He beamed through the videocall.

“Call off FRIDAY so I can go back to sleep.” You begged him.

“Oh. That’s a no can do, Sweetie.” He shook his head. “There’s a note for you on the nightstand there, why don’t you go ahead and give it a read.”

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Dunkirk Blues

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this depressed. It’d been a couple months since you’d seen Harry. He was away filming Dunkirk in France and you’re stuck in London. He called or FaceTimed you whenever he could, but it wasn’t enough. It was nice to see his face and hear his voice, but nothing could compare to him being right next to you. You missed his smell, his warmth, and the way you felt right at home in his arms.

The past couple of months all you did was go to work and come home only to sit in front of the television while eating your feelings away. You’d talked to a couple of your friends, but they didn’t understand what it’s like to not be able to see your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You were lying on the couch when you heard banging on the door. You slowly pushed yourself up and drug your feet to the door. When you opened it you were surprised to see Louis, Niall, and Liam standing there with food and some movies to watch. “Ello, love. We came to cheer you up. We know you’ve been feeling down lately. Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna let us in?” Louis said with a smile on his face.

“Uh,yeah come on in. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have at least gotten dressed.”

“If we’d told yeh, you wouldn’t have let us come,” Niall said with a smirk.

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rooftop proposal (jared kleinman x reader)

wc: 1173

a/n: tbh i have no idea what this is but i wrote it at 2 in the morning lol enjoy

It had been a long week. You know those weeks where everything seems to be going in slow motion and you just want to go to sleep and wake up when it’s the weekend? It had been one of those. But, it was finally Friday night, and that meant no responsibilities.

In celebration of the end of the heinous week, my best friend, Jared Kleinman, invited me over to “rave til dawn”. I guess his definition of ¨raving¨”was to climb up on his roof and sit in plastic beach chairs with Capri-Sun pouches in our hands. Not exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t too upset about it.

“What are you talking about?! Mario is clearly better than Luigi! I mean, Luigi is literally referred to as ‘the green mario’.” Jared explains, waving his grape Capri-Sun around in the air as he defended his argument.

“When have you ever heard someone call Luigi ´the green mario´ outside of memes?¨ I exclaim.

¨Um, tons of times!¨ Jared says, taking a sip of his drink.

¨Okay, give me one.¨ I retort. He sits there for a second, deep in thought.

¨Okay, fine! No one really calls him that.¨ Jared concedes after a minute of thinking.

¨Ha, told you so.¨ I brag, smiling at my small victory. We sit in silence after that, sipping our juice and observing the night sky.

¨Hey, Y/N?¨ Jared mumbles.


¨Do you ever wonder if you’ll find someone?¨ Jared asks.

¨What do you mean?¨

¨Like, you know, do you wonder if you’ll get married and stuff?¨ He explains, fiddling with the yellow straw of his Capri-Sun.

I shrug, ¨I don’t know. I haven’t really thought much about it.¨ He nods, staring at the ground.


¨I don’t know. It was a stupid question.¨ He says, scratching the back of his neck.

¨Do you?¨

¨Um, yeah, I guess.¨ He chuckles dryly, ¨I mean, what if I never find the right person? It sounds pretty cheesy, but I want that life. I like the idea of having someone always be there for you, right by your side through thick and thin. Someone you love with all your heart and someone who loves you back.¨ Damn, he must have thought a lot about this. ¨And the sex would be a plus, too.¨ He finishes, regaining his normal cocky attitude.

¨Oh my god, Jared! It was so sweet up until the end!¨ I groan. He chuckles, flashing me a smile before returning his gaze to the empty sky in front of him.

¨Tell you what.¨ I start, ¨If neither of us find ‘the right person’ by the time we’re 35, then we’ll marry each other.¨

¨What?¨ Jared laughs, shocked at my statement.

¨We’ll have, what, 18 years? And if we don’t find a partner by the end of those 18 years, we can marry each other.¨ I explain. I was pretty shocked by the words coming out of my mouth myself. I mean, I didn’t like Jared, he was just a friend. This proclamation was just a product of the week’s stress and my exhaustion… right?

¨… Okay.¨ He agrees, ¨I’ll do it.¨ I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at his words, grateful for the darkness to prevent him from seeing it. We sit there in silence, both smiling at the new deal.

¨Wait, does this mean we’re engaged?¨ I ask after a couple minutes, breaking the silence.

¨Maybe, engaged to be engaged?¨ Jared offers, ¨Or just engaged, whatever works for you.“ 

                                             TEN YEARS LATER

¨Jared! Get your cute ass in here, I’m starting the movie in five!¨ I yell as I place a bowl of M&M’s on the table. I stand back and admire my handiwork. I had been in charge of date night this week and had chosen to rent a movie we had been meaning to watch for the past month. Bowls of candy, chips, popcorn and pretzels took up the whole table while Netflix loaded on the TV.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist before I hear the familiar voice, ¨Woah, I didn’t know the whole state of Florida was coming to eat with us tonight.¨

¨Go big or go home.¨ I retort, pulling my boyfriend onto the couch and starting the movie. I settle into my usual spot, head on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around me, and grab a bowl of popcorn from the table.

The movie was pretty dull and I got bored after about fifteen minutes. I look up at Jared, whose blue eyes were trained on me.

¨Like what you see?¨ I ask. He chuckles lightly, turning his gaze back towards the screen. I do the same but feel his eyes on me again a few minutes later.

I turn towards him, ready to tease him but he interrupts me.

¨Marry me?¨ He asks. Everything seems to hold still, his words making me freeze in my movements.

¨Shit, I fucked that up.¨ He mumbles, standing up. He pulls a small black box from his back pocket and gets down on one knee, ¨Well, I guess I kind of already asked this.¨ He runs a hand through his hair, a thing he only does when he’s nervous, ¨But… I love you so much. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my whole life. I mean, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the person I know will always be there when I need a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold and… I want to be with you for the rest of my life.¨.

I don’t know when I started crying but they’re not stopping anytime soon.

¨So, um, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?¨

I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and nodding vigorously, ¨Yes! Yes!¨

¨Oh, thank god.¨ He pulls me tight to him, kissing my neck.

After a half hour of hugging and crying, we end up back on the couch in our original position, the movie still playing in the background.

¨You know, I bought that ring after our second date.¨ Jared says, smiling as he plays with the ring around my finger.

¨Really?¨ I giggle.

He nods, ¨Technically, I bought it 6 years late if you count our rooftop engagement.¨

I chuckle at the memory, ¨We were on a sugar rush from those stupid Capri-Suns and we were only 17.¨

¨Still counts.¨ He retorts.

¨Whatever you say, fiance.¨ I say, kissing his cheek gently as I curl up against his chest.

¨I love you, Y/N¨ Jared whispers as I fall asleep.

¨I love you more, Jared.¨

Toxic Workplace Environments I Have Personally Experienced And Was Expected To Be A-OK With

It is really hard to be sympathetic to people who complain about exclusionary microaggressions in tech, because, bluntly, I suffer macroaggressions pretty consistently, and it is made clear to me that I’m expected to be ok with these. While everyone else is debating whether or not saying “she” instead of “zhe” is a reportable offense, the following are experiences that I have had

The obvious one: I have a half dozen coworkers who are aware of and incredibly upset about Lambdaconf. Even though that was almost a year ago, they will still on occasion ritualistically shittalk Lambdaconf. They will loudly denounce the people who supported it, and talk about how glad they are that none of those people work with them. They have on certain occasions named specific individuals as thought criminals who should be shunned from the tech community, individuals who are friends of mine. I am expected to smile and nod and say nothing. If they knew at work about Simon Penner, I would very likely lose my job. 

At one company, the three other people on my team were walking Tumblr SJW stereotypes, and whenever I violated one of their ever-changing social norms, I got bitched out for it. The worst incident was the Uber incident. I say “Uber” to refer to cabs generally, similarly to how “Kleenex” is used to refer to tissues. I had said I’d Uber’d home the previous night (I had actually taken a Lyft). This prompted an hour long bitchfest where my coworker aggressively explained to me all the ways in which I was a terrible person who was personally responsible for impoverishing homeless people, because I was quote “supporting a company run by a libertardian [sic]”. They demanded I use Lyft in the future.

I never even got the chance to correct their initial misunderstanding

I’m out for a cross-team lunch. At a crowded restaurant. Ten coworkers at our table. I made some dumb throwaway joke about economics. Using logic that to this day I still haven’t figured out, a coworker concludes that I was actually talking about sexual assault, and loudly exclaims in front of the entire table: “So you support raping women then?”. In front of my boss. In front of my boss’s boss. 

This actually panicked me so much that I left lunch, no explanation, lockpicked the company beer closet, got shitfaced, and then walked out the front door. It was a Friday so nobody heard from me again until Monday morning. Miraculously, someone else realized what had happened, told HR, and I had an apology email waiting for me. And here I thought the accuser, who had significantly more seniority than me, would have gotten me fired

Worked at a company once with an outspoken feminist activist woman on our team. She was a graphic designer who taught (”taught”) herself enough front end coding to transition to the dev team. She was arrogant and incompetent.

While the rest of us would do our jobs, she would take 3+ hour coffee breaks every day. Often with the men in the office she thought were hot. Being a team, it fell to the rest of us to pick up her slack.

One guy in particular picked up the most of it. He cleared 2x as many jira tickets as the rest of us, made 3x as many commits, and was the only guy who would routinely car about cleaning up / refactoring code. He eventually got resentful about this fauxmenist just blatantly taking advantage of the rest of the team, and complained. The response was that the company fired him. Well, managed him out. Everyone knew what was happening, dude quit a month later.

The woman continued to draw a salary there for another year, while doing zero work, until she decided to quit to “focus on art”, and at age 30 she moved back in to her millionaire parents’ mansion. Protesting gentrification by day. Living in a goddamn 8 bedroom house on top of a hill at night. 

One day, at one employer, the COO (second highest ranking person in a several hundred person company) comes over to the engineering area and one by one tries to get engineers to do her a personal favour. The favour: COO was a landlord. She wanted someone to forge some fraudulent documents that were ostensibly signed by her tenant (but in reality, by her engineers), that agreed to a rent increase. 

That is to say, she wanted to secretly and illegally hike the rent on one of her tenants by getting one of the employees at the company she co-owns to forge her tenant’s signature. And she just up and asked us. As if this wasn’t a felony. Nobody did it. One engineer actually joked “Uh I think that is a felony, you should ask someone else”. 

At one point, a former coworker started to clue in to my twitter circles. He didn’t know about Simon, but he knew I have thoughtcriminal friends online. So for a long time he took to making jokes about me being a nazi. He would make these jokes with no context or explanation, in front of my team and my manager. At one point I had to go to my manager about this and explain, pre-emptively, that this is not true and that I think he thinks he’s just making a dumb joke but FYI please don’t think there’s any truth to this.

This happened last year. If it had happened this year, in the wake of all the various threats and justifications that anti trump folks have made, I would have escalated this. If this happened this year, I would do everything in my power to get that coworker fired, as a self defense mechanism. The last thing I want is coworkers assaulting me on my walk home because they think it’s ok since I’m a ‘nazi’.

This should go without saying, but: I am not a Nazi.

As a senior engineer, I’m expected to do technical interviewing. One day we get a diversity rockstar applicant. Every rule is broken. Recruiting breaks their own anti-bias rules to pressure me into approving this guy. They take him out to a fancy expensive lunch (we do not normally provide lunch for interview candidates). He does his technical interview with me and…. he is far and away the most grossly incompetent person I’ve ever seen. Our tech interview has a simple structure: Here are some tests, the app isn’t written yet, write the app to make the tests pass. Somehow he had more tests failing when he was done than when he started.

When we huddled up to discuss this candidate, I was the only person who was not a strong yes. Everyone else in the circle gave some incredibly horse shit reason about why “technical proficiency is not the most important part of this job” and how his “unique background and experiences will be an asset to the team”. It was pathetic, everyone going around trying to avoid accidentally saying something that would suggest they were racist. So when it came around to me and I said, simply: “Worst performing candidate I have interviewed, in my career”.

I was punished for this. My boss, who made the final call, couldn’t handle the optics of making a hiring decision with such a polarized discussion, so he put it on me. He told me to phone the guy, give him a second interview (don’t you know you get do-overs if you screw up, apparently), and then I had to be the one to make the hire or not call. Which meant that if I still said no, everyone can agree that I’m just a racist prick. 

I said no. It didn’t come up again, but I have no idea what people think when they’re not speaking. 

At one company, I assume something happened internally because one week we were forced to attend like four mandatory diversity/bias training sessions. For the main event, we brought in a very expensive, very prestigious speaker, who gave us a talk about how we’re all racist shitheads because implicit bias

This presentation was so blatantly propagandistic that so many people were pissed that the (incredibly SJW) manager who organized this formally apologized to the company for wasting our time. When the SJWs thing you’re full of feminist shit, that’s saying something

I had a coworker one time who proudly informed me that she would reject any candidate that admitted to reading lesswrong, and would fire anyone who snuck past her filter. She never noticed that I snuck past her filter. 

Two years later, some of my Twitter friends are freaking out because there’s an SA thread trying to dox and harass them. My coworker, and her best friend, I saw them gleefully participating in that thread. Trying to harass specific friends of mine, who keep their privacy for good reason. 

These are the most egregious toxic workplace events I’ve personally lived through. At least, the cultural/political ones; I have more bog-standard dysfunctional ones but those are boring. The really shocking thing to me is that, aside from the COO story, every single one of the above were seen as completely normal and expected by everyone else involved. Nobody thought anything objectionable happened.

This really, really distresses me. We live in a world where, two years ago, it was national news that American office workers are sexist because they keep the thermostat too low. Like, when those articles dropped, my then-employer formally updated their thermostat policy to mandate the temperature be higher. Because to do otherwise would be a micro aggression against female staff.

To underscore this: I have worked at companies that have had serious internal policy discussions over the sexist nature of the thermostat.

Meanwhile I have coworkers openly threatening my friends and I in the office, threatening us with economic (and on a few cases physical) violence, and I’m just expected to be ok with this. If I complain, well, HR’s job is to solve problems with employees and the easiest way to solve individual complaints is removing the individual. If I point out this disconnect in how seriously things are taken, I’m tarred a misogynist who hates women, and I find my career advancement stagnating. This is horse shit.

Does that seem right to you?

Lucid dream experiment

In order to have a lucid dream, one of the most recommended exercises is to create a habit of doing reality checks. Stopping what you are doing to really focus on what you are doing and keeping your awareness on everything around you. Another highly recommended exercise is keeping a dream journal to aid in recalling your dreams at a much higher rate.

The exercise I am working on consists of both of these exercises. But instead of keeping a journal for your dreams, you keep one to recall what you have done through the day. A reality anchor is something that reminds you do perform a reality check. The anchor can be whenever you walk through a doorway, whenever you hear a certain sound, whenever you look at your phone, etc.

The anchor I have chosen is the beep of my watch that goes off every hour. Whenever I hear it I count my fingers to make sure that I still have the correct amount. I will also pull out my journal and write down the time, details of what I have done in the past hour, and how I am feeling at the current moment. If I can make this a habit then I will increase the odds of doing it in my dreams and give myself a higher chance of awareness. At the end of the day I will add one last entry summarizing the main points of what I had done that day. Then I will perform whatever pre-sleep exercises to increase the chance of lucidity, whether that is meditation, visualization exercises, etc. My dreams will then be recalled and written in another journal in the morning.

This exercise will be repeated for the next couple weeks. I will document my findings on this exercise every Friday, or in the same day if a breakthrough is found.

Testosterone Gel vs. Injections

edit: With the permission of the original author of this, the information comes from Tumblr user stealth-mountain.

Found this comment on a subreddit thread, thought it was very useful. Unedited, so there are swear words.

I’ve done both. I started T on a gel, and I’m currently on injections.

The gel is nice because:

  • It’s simple and it’s easy to apply.
  • It gives you steady levels.
  • It doesn’t take long to do so, around 2 minutes, including drying time and washing your hands thoroughly.
  • No needles.
  • Bloodwork doesn’t require as much coordination.

The injections are nice because:

  • You only do it once a week, once every two weeks, or once every twelve weeks.
  • It’s cheaper.
  • No need for weird calculations.
  • The generic dose is easy to work with if you do have to recalculate something.
  • It’s cheaper!
  • You can go swimming, shower, exercise, touch your pets, touch your partner, touch your family, etc., whenever you want.
  • No long hand washing.

Cons of gel:

  • It’s fucking expensive. Injections aren’t cheap, but they’re much, much cheaper than gel, especially if you have a weird dosage of testosterone. By “weird”, I mean “anything other than one pump per day at the dosage and concentration given by generic testosterone gel”. If you do one pump per day of generic, it might be cheaper to go with gel, since it’ll last you 120 days on ~200-300 dollars, with a good discount/coupon.
  • Generic dosage doesn’t change (or maybe this is the experience I’ve had with my pharmacy). The generic dosage is 90 g of 12.5 mg per pump actuation. If your doctor prescribes you something different, say a higher amount with a higher concentration, the pharmacy will still give you 90 g of 12.5 mg per pump, and you have to calculate how many pumps it will be to get you the dosage your doctor wanted. My first few months on gel, to get the dosage my doctor wanted, I had to give myself 1.6 pumps every day. And you can’t really get 1.6 pumps consistently.
  • Combining the two above, if you have a different dosage than one pump of generic (which is a low fucking dose), you run out much faster. It’s the generic bottle that costs ~200-300 dollars (actually they come in sets of two, so those two will cost you 200-300 dollars), so if you’re doing some dosage, say 3 pumps, that’s going to last you 40 days. Do you really want to spend 200-300 every 40 days?
  • Yet another con of gel is that you have to take it after a shower (open your pores!) and can’t get the area wet for a few hours (check with your pharmacist), so no swimming, showering, or sweating, or the gel might wash off.
  • Other people can’t touch the area until it dries, either, because they’ll take the gel off of you and get a dose of T themselves, and that can be bad if you have pets, a girlfriend/wife, a daughter…It’s not as bad if a man does it, but you’re still not getting your full dosage. Along with this, you have to thoroughly wash your hands every morning to get the gel off.

Cons of injections:

  • You have to inject yourself with a needle. The process is more complicated. You pretty much have to learn how to do it or drive somewhere once every week or whatever to have someone do it for you. I drive to the other side of town to get mine done.
  • You have to keep track of it. You have to remember, “Oh, it’s Friday. Time for my T shot.” You can easily handle this with an alarm on your phone or a calendar event, but it gets even more complicated if you don’t do it every week, but rather every other week.
  • Yet another con is your T levels aren’t really stable. This hasn’t been a problem for me, since I have it once a week, but it can cause mood swings towards the end of your shot cycle. This problem is exacerbated if you do once every two weeks.
  • A fourth problem with shots is coordinating shot cycles with your bloodwork. You have to come in at a certain time to get your T levels tested, and you can’t really work around it flexibly. If your clinic is only open on certain days, you have to coordinate the day your shot is with what days your clinic is open.

All in all, I’d recommend shots.  Why?

  • I like having money.
  • I like not having to do weird percentage calculations.
  • I like having 2 extra minutes of sleep every morning. I do my shots in the evening on Fridays, so no time is really lost there.
  • I like being able to shower or swim or sweat afterwards without having to coordinate each of these things with my dosage.
  • I like being able to walk around with maybe just a tank top on and hold my cats on my shoulders without fear of dosing them with testosterone.
  • I’m totally fine with needles, I’ve gotten shots every week for the last 5 years of my life (not testosterone), and my mood is pretty stable.

Hey @bettagal, remember when I told you about having trouble with my cycle? This is what i mean. I did a 75% water change on Friday and this is the water parameters this morning. Any advice? Feel free to reblog so your followers can chime in. Also tagging @fishhhhhhh, and @hella-free-space.

Tank is a 20 gallon, not planted, and has 2 bettas(seperated). I’ve been doing water changes every time I see Nitrites in the parameters, but now its just going out of control. Ammonia never seems to get over .50ppm, usually sitting at .25ppm. The reading pictured is what has been happening every 1-2 days for the last 3 weeks. I’ve been trying to establish a cycle since May 14th. Any thoughts or advice would be awesome.

Embracing Greece...and Mexico?

“Wowowowow Sia what the hell is that?”, you ask me. Oh well what a wonderful week to take a break and actually do something more fun! This week I present to you @mika1459 my dear taco friend from Mexico!

Aimée is an Ambassador of Mexico in the @hetaliafandomhub and due to the @aphaskevent I am hosting we actually met! So we decided to do a collab together.

This week’s theme is: Educational System!

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good enough

@dixiedolittle asked: So, I feel like a prompt pig, but here’s another, please. Darcy. Insecurity. Thank you!

I… well, I tried to play out Darcy’s insecurity about her own self-worth across her interactions with the other Avengers. It got way out of hand, but I wanted something special in honor of the holidays, so… anyways, it’s a bit late for Christmas, but I hope you like it regardless!

Darcy’s crush on Steve is completely unreasonable, given how he basically ignores her existence. Natasha takes it upon herself to intervene, taking advantage of Christmas being right around the corner.  

Or, it takes twelve people to ship it, and one more to make it happen.

1. Natasha

When Natasha first brought it up, Darcy laughed to hide the stab of insecurity that ran through her gut. 

“I barely know the guy, Nat,” she said, ducking her head to hide her blush – there was no doubt the assassin knew about her not-so-secret crush on Steve Rogers. “He’s nice, from what I know, but I don’t think we really mesh.”

She thought back to how he’d never meet her eyes, how he made a point to leave a room if she entered it, how he stood as far away from her as he could. She ignored how much it hurt to remember those things.

“Oh?” Natasha fixed her with a blank stare and a single, arched eyebrow. “You’re going to be the only ones here for Christmas. You never know.”

“I’m serious.” Darcy smiled, but it felt like Natasha could see right though her. “Happy single lady, right here.” 

Natasha hummed, dropping the subject, but Darcy had the sinking feeling that this was going to become a regular occurrence.

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Prairie POT...

There’s a man I’ve been exchanging messages with on SA who’s going to have business in my city as of next month. Starting in September, he’ll be here at least one week or weekend every month. He’s offering $4000 for me to spend a FULL weekend (Friday evening to Sunday morning/afternoon) with him once a month as soon as he starts coming here. 

It sounds too good to be true (although I know for escorts in my city who do ‘overnights’ or trips with clients, $4000 is pretty similar to what they’d make for this) but I’m really hoping it isn’t. I’m excited to meet him… I’m going to call him Prairie because that’s the part of the country he’s from. 

$4000 a month is my ideal allowance and I’m just really hoping it works out with him. He’s a successful businessman in his late 40s and he’s tall/decently attractive…. I’m sure for some girls they wouldn’t want an arrangement like this, but for me, I’d rather spend one weekend a month with an SD instead of one evening a week. Less work. Anyway, pray for me that this works out pls!! 

anonymous asked:

How long did it take you to write cam? Nor publish it but like actually start and finish writing it? Thx ily a lot and I think now that's it done I'll read cam

honestly i could’ve written it a lot faster probably, kind of like how elizajane and rachel do it (they write it nonstop and post chapters of what they have written weakly, and by the time they’re finished posting they’ve been done for a while) but i write my updates every friday night and upload them saturday mornings lmao so it took 16 weeks

PSA ( + TW?)

If you’re ever feeling depressed, hopeless, suicidal, etc., please, DON’T kill yourself. Doing that will only hurt everyone very badly, even the people who may be hurting you. You may think that I don’t know what it’s like to know someone who has committed suicide or at least tried, but to tell the truth…I do.

When I was 11, I was getting bullied very badly. Everyday of it hurt, and I was always crying. I thought long and hard about killing myself, but I was too afraid to pull the trigger. One night, I finally told my mom what was happening (minus the suicidal thoughts). The next morning, my parents told me that I could go to my uncle’s house on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays before school from then on (since I had band practice before school on Tuesday and Thursday). I was so happy and said yes. On those three days of every week, I would go to my uncle’s house and go on Club Penguin until it was time for him or my aunt to drive me to school.

But a few weeks before I turned 13, my depression resurfaced. I found myself in a lot of emotional pain. Since I had no friends at the time (I did, but none of them went to my school), a handful of girls in my grade noticed and saw how much of an easy target I was.

When I was in 8th grade, there was one particular week in April where I was getting bullied. All three ringleaders were boys, and they turned a lot of the girls on me. On the Wednesday of that week, I pulled the trigger during P.E. and threatened to commit suicide. All of them became worried and started to regret what they did (except the ringleaders), but one person ran down to the office and told the social worker what happened. The nurse came outside and told me that the social worker needed help. I told her everything, and I ended up not going to school the next day. I went to go talk to a psychologist about what happened, but she wanted to give me drugs for depression. The next day, a lot of people were relieved to see that I was okay and the ringleaders made sure to stay out of my sight. I learned that on the day while I was gone, many girls went up to the social worker, saying that they didn’t feel good at all, physically and emotionally. Graduation came, and everything was fine again, until freshman year.

Another girl started bullying me, and that was when I tried cutting myself. Throughout my high school years, I was bullied severely. The voices in my head kept telling me to just do it, just end my life, and all the pain would be gone. Last October was the day I actually pulled the trigger. I obviously wasn’t successful, and I ended up in the hospital for a few days. Since I was in the mental wing of the hospital, I wasn’t allowed to have any electronics. During those three days, I felt like I was in prison. I felt nothing. I wanted to run all the way back home, but I knew I couldn’t. Not only did I miss my family and my friends, but the nurse I had was being a huge bitch to me and didn’t show any sympathy for what I was going through. I was very happy to go home, and it turns out, everyone in my family learned about what I did. I had hurt everyone I loved, and during my time in the hospital, I felt like complete shit for it.

When I checked my phone for notifications, I saw that none of my friends messaged me, except for one. Now that I look back on this, I’m happy I wasn’t successful, because if I was, I never would’ve met her at Anime Midwest last week.

So please, DON’T kill yourself. There are always people who care and want to help.


Request: we’re coffee-shop coworkers but we work different shifts and communicate exclusively through post-it notes

Pairing: Jasmine Cephas Jones x reader

Warnings: fluuuuuufffff, unbeta’d

Word count: 1,632

A/N: I promised this would come out before the next part of Smooth Operator so here it is! Also someone told me coffee shops open on Sundays in the rest of the world… what are you all doing

Just as the clock struck two, you walked into the café to start your shift. The shop was pretty full- to be expected- and you made your way through the tables to the counter.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Marius, who finished his shift as you started yours, grumbled. He all but threw his apron at you as he left. You tied it and slid behind the counter and gestured to the first person in the queue to come over. 

“What can I get you?” you asked, plastering a smile on your face. 

There was a lull in the queue around quarter past four and you took the opportunity to make yourself a drink. You took your mug out of your bag and headed over to the machine. There was a post-it on the wall beside it that you hadn’t noticed earlier.

Some lady just ordered her ten year old a latte? What’s going on.

You laughed, looking around for the stack of post its. Whoever had left the note had written in green pen on a pale yellow post-it so you chose a blue one and composed a reply.

Weird… I had a little girl ask whether lego had a silent t like merlot earlier! 

You carefully stuck yours onto the wall just below the first one and took a sip of your drink, wincing at the heat. You wondered who it was. It couldn’t be your shift-partner Renée or Marius because you didn’t recognise the handwriting. 

The bell at the door rang and you turned to serve your next customer, pushing any thoughts of post-its to the back of your head.

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This is what I love, and can’t stop loving
Get wasted at parties, from 9 ‘till 7 in the morning
I live for the music, rolling blunts, feeling high, getting loaded or take some pills and go to La La Land
Spending all my money on dope and extreme high priced tickets
But in the end it’s all worth it

I like to live in my own world
Fuck regular life, fuck a 9 to 5 job
I’m told to enjoy every moment, every hour, every minute
That’s what I do on Fridays and Saturday
Why should I take life so seriously?
I just wanna do what I like to do
Being far from reality, cause I can’t stand society
This is my own world, I just wanna hear the music

I think the whole system fucking sucks
Everybody’s working their fucking ass off during the week
Getting totally fucking stressed out
So what’s wrong, and what’s right?
I live for the weekend, I live for hard styles, I live for hardstyle baby!
—  Showtek - FTS