words-that-describe-love-and-hate

I love bossy women. Some people hate the word, and I understand how “bossy” can seem like a shitty way to describe a woman with a determined point of view, but for me, a bossy woman is someone to search out and celebrate. A bossy woman is someone who cares and commits and is a natural leader. Also, even though I’m bossy, I like being told what to do by people who are smarter and more interesting than me.
—  Amy Poehler, Yes Please
Like it slow (Pietro Maximoff x Reader) (Request)

Gif Not Mine

Anonymous: can you please do an imagine where Pietro and reader hate each other. they sort of have love hate relationship?? and then they are at a party and reader is dancing with a really cute coworker and pietro gets jealous and cuts in and takes her to the hallway to talk?? LOTS OF ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASE 🙏🏽😭✨ - thanks so much!

Word Count: 1705

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a/n: Wow I am on a roll! Two Bellarke fics in two days…that’s gotta be some kind of record! ;) This is, I guess, what I can imagine happening between Clarke & Bellamy when she returns to camp. I heard something about Bob Morley saying that he’d probably resent Clarke for leaving and something about a fight and this is basically the result of that.

words like a loaded gun (shot out from a fire tongue)

It seems like it takes forever for her to come back.

Then one day he’s training some new guard recruits and he sees a flash of gold out of corner of his eye and there she is, strolling through camp with purpose like she hasn’t been gone for three months.

He couldn’t describe the feeling in the pit of his stomach if he was asked but he’d guess it’s a little bit of everything. Joy. Hate. Resentment.

Love.

He pushes that thought deep down and gives her an easy smile when she makes her way over to where he’s standing.

“Welcome back, Clarke.”

The smile she gives him is fake and doesn’t reach her eyes.

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7

Miss Amber P. Riley folks. There are no words to describe how much this woman has inspired me. Being a thick black woman on hit TV show, she has experienced a lot of hate. When she was young she auditioned for American Idol but she didn’t make it. All the trials and tribulations this woman has faced only made her stronger. She overcame the hate and she rose. Amber Riley is true inspiration to all and I love her.

Friday Five
  1. Stage 7 of New Rules of Lifting for Women is LEGIT. I haven’t been sore through most of these workouts, but that’s not the case with this stage. My hammies are screaming from Wednesday and I’m certain my quads will be after today. Very much looking forward to tomorrow’s rest day. 
  2. There are not words to describe how I feel about today’s SCOTUS ruling. Suffice it to say that I’m very thankful my newsfeed has not been filled with too much hate or negativity. Also, it feels epically cool to witness when we make the history books for the good stuff (and not all the war and mass murders). 
  3. TECHNOLOGY…is just the coolest. Tonight my bestie and her improv team performed at the Del Close Marathon in NYC and I got to watch their show because her lovely mother Periscoped it for me. SO NEAT. Also, I am one proud BFF. 
  4. Despite the scale not moving as much as I’d like today, I’m feeling very good on the body front. Very fit and leaner than I once was. I should probably take my measurements soon to see how that compares. 
  5. Current status - listening to the storms roll in while watching Titanic because its on my summer to-do list. The only thing that would have made it better is if Rachel had come over in her Heart of the Ocean necklace to watch it with me.  
How are you all,are you all ok?

For all you lovely ladies who has watched episode one what did you all think and are you all ok? I’m going to be honest with you all I expected more it didn’t feel like I was watching My Mad Fat Diary or was that just me? Disappointed is the word I would use right now to describe how I’m feeling and I hate that because I love this show so much but episode one wasn’t what I thought it would be,unfortunately I’ve more negative than positive things to say about it.
facephase ducky17 kneekeyta justagirlnamedkayla ililypop ch1darkcy theblanknotebook stephsadickhead fuckintentshop

i would’ve done anything to be with you and you pushed me away. you acted like I was some stranger.
you described me as somebody I don’t even recognize. you made me say I hate you when really I wanted to say I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
i hope you can at least regret the way you acted towards me. i hope you can see that I could’ve ignored your call but I took it.
i took it because I still loved you and I missed you.
and I caught myself believing in us again just a little bit, I thought that maybe our feelings for each other were somewhere, but you set them on fire and you ran away.
im such a fool for sitting here and picking up the ashes
•J•

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?

No, wait.
That’s asking too much —
after all,
this is only our first date.

Exactly eight years ago, I watched Bones for the first time and I instantly fell in love with Booth&Brennan and became obsessed with the show.

It will have a place in my heart forever. <3

If only there were words to describe how incredibly important Bones is for me… All the things it got me through, and continues to do so even now, I’m very grateful for its existence and brilliance.

hamstibamsti asked:

In this one ask you answered you were talking about hate-loving Long Term. I just read this out of context, but I am German, and the word you are looking for might be Hassliebe (=HateLove). Feels like that perfectly describes your feelings and it is kinda of a legit word, so you were right! ...Hope that helps^^

…There literally is a word for it.

Incredible. Echt toll.

Dass finde ich ganz lustig, danke! Ich werde dieses Wort benutzen

I love bossy women. Some people hate the word, and I understand how “bossy” can seem like a shitty way to describe a woman with a determined point of view, but for me, a bossy woman is someone to search out and celebrate. A bossy woman is someone who cares and commits and is a natural leader. Also, even though I’m bossy, I like being told what to do by people who are smarter and more interesting than me.
—  Yes Please by Amy Poehler

Just saw yet another post with multiple people saying that cisgender heteroromantic asexuals do not belong in LGBTQ+ spaces and cannot use the word queer to describe themselves.

Ya know, I hate myself enough for being asexual. Despite all the love and support I get from the ace community, I still often feel like I’m broken, like I’m wrong, and I’m always afraid that I’ll never be enough for my boyfriend even though he assures me otherwise. Now, there are folks affirming my fears that I’m not queer enough to belong in the community that I had hoped would accept and support me.

No, I’m not transgender. No, I do not want to date other girls. But I sure as hell am not heterosexual. I am queer, and I do have to face plenty of struggles and invalidation because of my sexuality. My own parents don’t accept or even believe in my sexuality.

So go fuck yourself if you believe that I don’t belong in the LGBTQIPA+ community, because I’m sure as hell not gonna do it.

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?

No, wait.
That’s asking too much —
after all,
this is only our first date.

—  Andrea Gibson
I want you to tell me about every person you've ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman arm less for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds.
—  Unknown
10 Questions For Taurus

(fill in answers & reblog!)

1) One word to describe you?

2) What makes you cringe?

3) Favorite weather?

4) Favorite school subject?

5) A song you once loved but now hate?

6) Something you wish you could do?

7) Best thing about yourself?

8) If you could speak another language, it would be…?

9) Your favorite thing to spend money on?

10) What did you have for breakfast?

Know Me

1. Age

2. Pets Name

3. School status 

4. Piercings you have

5. Piercings you want

6. Tattoos you have

7. Tattoos you want

8. Favorite band at the moment

9. Favorite movie

10. Favorite color

11. Describe yourself with on word

12. What you hate most about yourself

13. What you love most about yourself

14. Pet peeves 

15. Phobia/General fears 

16. What you hate about school

17. What you love about school

18. Zodiac Sign

19. Quotes you like 

20. Hobbies

21. Writers you like

22. Favorite writing

23. Hair color

24. Eye color

25. Height

26. Weight

27. Favorite Flower 

28. Favorite place to be

29. Places you would like to live

30. Places you would like to visit

Okay, like I’d blocked the person but my one follower reblogged that post so I came across that filthy post of that user on here. Ugh, I love Roman so much that I run out of words to describe my love for him. But if you’re his fan like I’m and you hate the fact that not many people realize how incredible he is then don’t sweat on it. Don’t try convincing others and berating them. Not everyone is gonna like what you like. It’s not worth confronting them up until and unless they’re making hate posts about him .

Also, while you’re at it please if others say that they like some other wrestler better such as Kevin Owens then please for the love of god don’t fat shame him. Why would you call him untalented and fat ass? It’s gross af!!

I know it irritates us Roman’s fans that people accept Owens recent run and quick main event push but hated Roman for the exactly same thing. But fat shamming Owens isn’t the right thing. STOP IT!!