yeah because men still do this.

Rromani FAQ

What’s up, fam? For International Rromani Day this year, I thought it would be a good idea to maybe post some basic info. So here is your IRrD cultural crash-course cheat sheet:

  • The word “G*psy” is an ethnic slur. It comes from the misconception that we originated in Egypt (hint: we did not). Basically, white Europeans were like “hey those guys are brown. They must be Egyptians. lol ‘Gyptians. lol ~G*PSIES~”. AKA, they couldn’t be bothered to ask where we actually came from. Some Rroma have opted to reclaim this word and may use it to refer to themselves. That does not mean that it’s okay for just anybody to use it. Friendly tip: do not use this word unless you are actually Rromani.
  • Rromani people trace their roots back to India and some parts of Pakistan (but mostly India?). While many don’t necessarily consider themselves Indian or even South-Asian, we are also not white.
  • We are a diaspora group. That means we were expelled from the country/left nationless.
  • Rroma come in all colours. Some of us are dark-skinned and some are light-skinned. We are all POC. There are certain physical traits that are common in our ethnic group, but that does not mean that we all have these traits. In fact, many of these traits have been used to stereotype us, which isn’t cool.
  • Our culture involves a lot of dancing and music. And food. And our food is generally pretty spicy.
  • We are not Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame). In fact, that book is hella racist and the movie isn’t really much better. In the book, Esmeralda was a gadje (non-Rromani) girl who was kidnapped by Rroma (stereotype) and raised in their community (stereotype). As you will know from the movie, she dressed provocatively (stereotype) and danced for coins (stereotype). Rroma women are often portrayed as sexual objects, which is really gross tbh. Although the cute lil’ goat friend is 110% factual. I mean, not really. But I had a goat friend. Her name was Rochelle. More on that later.
  • Rroma men are often stereotyped as lazy.
  • Other stereotypes include fortune tellers, witches, thieves, beggars, and street performers. I am here to tell you that we are honestly no more likely to do these things than any other cultural group so… yeah? And those that do are often forced into these positions by laws and discrimination in their home countries.
  • Speaking of which, forced eviction, mass deportation, sterilisation, systematic impoverishment and oppression, workplace discrimination, segregated education, and TAKING CHILDREN AWAY FROM THEIR FAMILIES are problems that Rroma are still facing TODAY.
  • Rroma are sometimes known as Travellers because we have historically been a fairly nomadic group (by necessity). Rromani people would (and many still do) travel from place to place, looking for work, only to be chased away by prejudiced locals. Think old man on a porch shouting “Get off my lawn!” at the paper boy. Dumb, right? Right.
  • We do not want your children. For some reason, gadje think we want to steal their children? Some even think we eat them??? We do not do this.
  • Gadje is not a bad word. It literally means “non-Rromani person”.
  • Our language is called Rromanes or Rromani Chib. There are like a gajillion different dialects. Those of us who actually speak our chib might not be able to understand another Rrom because of dialectical differences. It’s complicated.
  • We are not a costume. A G*psy is not something you can just become. You can’t convert. You either are or you are not. Wearing long skirts does not make you a ~*G*pSy*~. Being a hippie does not make you a ~*G*pSy*~. Pracitising witchcraft does not make you a ~*G*pSy*~. We are not mythical creatures. You cannot become Rromani any more than you can become Black or Asian or Hispanic. It is especially concerning when people act like we are a style instead of an ethnicity because a) it makes a mockery of our culture, and b) makes it seem like we do not actually exist.
  • Bread.

While we’re having a lot of lovely discourse on here about how Joss Whedon writes heroines and how people in general write heroines based on the leaked WW script, I’ like to actually address another part of the problem: how you write the dudes in the story. Because the guys will inevitably interact with the heroine and therefore their writing has an effect on how the film views her.

“Feminist Fantasy” is a term I sometimes see used to describe fantasy/sci fi/supernatural stories that have powerful female characters. Thing is, feminist fantasy, much like feminist theory, evolves as time goes on. What would still be acceptable as FF back in the 90s may come across as cliche or even regressive today because opinions change as time goes on. And that’s a huge part of why the leak WW script rubs people the wrong way, especially how the guys act and how they impact Diana’s role.

The idea of “prove the boys wrong” is one that has been done to death since my childhood. It’s a typical plot or subplot. Girl wants to do X thing, boys say she can’t since she’s a girl, girl proves boys wrong, boys learn their lesson. Here’s the thing: that is no longer feminist fantasy. Because that is real life for so many women, having to constantly prove themselves to men over and over and still be looked over next time due to being a woman and have to do it all over again. Feminist Fantasy has moved into the realm of Fury Road and Wonder Woman 2017–where the woman never has to “prove” anything, at least not to the men on her side. She’s accepted as a capable human without a whole arc proving herself such.

Max never questions Furiosa or even the wives because they are women. The times he does argue or question are purely logistical and have nothing to do with belittling them or asserting his preconceived superiority as a man–he’s usually just checking the plan. While Capable does comfort Nux, it’s Nux who proves himself to the wives by getting the rig rolling again. While Nux learns to see them as people, the onus is not on the wives and other women to make that happen. Steve only offers the barest concern for Diana being a woman, mostly just related to how she dresses in London. Other than that his main issue is the Ares thing which he does not ever use to declare Diana naive and in fact it’s noted in-universe that she may even have a point before Ares shows up. He doesn’t just humor her about Ares, its treated more as a conclusion he disagrees with but can’t prove wrong so they simply operate based on their differing conclusions (Diana’s of “Ludendorf is Ares” and Steve’s of “idc if he is or not we’ve got to stop the chemicals”) until the Ares question becomes unavoidable. The other men similarly don’t belittle Diana or creep on her, the most we get is Sameer’s “ both frightened… and aroused ” joke when she beats a guy up and Sameer jokingly commenting on wanting to see her island.

How the men act is important compared to the WW 06 script, because the 06 script is much more regressive. Both the heroic and villainous men act like creeps and belittle Diana, sexualize Diana, lecture Diana. Essentially, guys treating Diana badly is a thing both the bad guys and the good guys do and she just has to deal with it. Which is just shit, from a feminist perspective. The idea that the guys who are heroes are going to treat women as badly (or even just almost as badly) as the bad guys and the only difference is the heroic guys are the ones who change their minds when she “proves herself” is really, really old. It’s simultaneously discouraging to women and insulting to men by saying that all men are pigs and women just have to deal with that, and it’s the “strong” women who do and change the mind of the “good” men…who are still going to be pigs but maybe less so towards you since you proved yourself. The idea of a guy who’s not a pig is not a thing.

Feminist Fantasy has moved beyond that. Feminist Fantasy is no longer where women are able to constantly prove men wrong–it’s when they don’t have to prove men wrong before being taken seriously as people. Because that shows a future, a past, a world where a woman can simply be accepted as a potential expert, or a warrior, or whatever else the character is doing without having to “prove” it to any man in the vicinity because that still places the men as having power over her. It’s not that they can’t prove men wrong–some still will sometimes and all of them could if directly challenged to–it’s that they don’t have to. Guys who are on their side simply accept that yeah, a woman can be that badass while guys who aren’t on their side, well the opinions those guys have a) don’t matter as much and b) because they’re the bad guys, she’s more focused on stopping their plans than proving her worth to them.

Women having to “prove” ourselves more than men before being taken seriously is not aspirational fantasy anymore–it’s where we are, more often than not. The fantasy is that we only have to prove ourselves to the same degree as any man written in the same situation would, and be treated equally to them. We already know the real world is not there yet (see every “Rey is a Mary-Sue compared to Luke and Anakin” argument ever) but the idea that escapist fiction can’t be a bit ahead of the curve on that should be eyeroll inducing at this point.

SKAM S04E09 Clip 5 - Maghrib

SANA: Please accept my fast, even though I’ve behaved badly. Please watch over Eva and Vilde and Noora, Chris. Please watch over Isak and Even and Elias and Yousef.

[VILDE: Hi, are you ready to meet up?

EVA: Sana! Chris and I will pick you up with the van in 20 minutes.

SANA: Ok cool

SANA: I regret cancelling the date with Yousef

NOORA: YEEES! Call him! Go!

EVA: Do it girl!! Life is NOW!!

SANA: According to Islam, life is after death. Which is one of the reasons why I should stay away from him

CHRIS: According to me, the abdomen is dead after death. Which is one of the reasons why you should meet him!!

VILDE: Yousef! Yousef! Yousef!

SANA: Hahaha I get why mom is worried that I don’t have any Muslim friends

NOORA: Hello! OK!! I can argue from an Islamic perspective

SANA: Now I’m intrigued

NOORA: Ok, doesn’t Islam believe in destiny?

Keep reading

This Is War [10]

Summary: After being rejected by your best friend Bucky, Sam sets you up with one of his friends, on the condition that if the date doesn’t go well, you have to sign up for a dating app. The date doesn’t go well. As you begin to look for love in other places, Bucky starts to feel something he never felt before. Jealous.

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1558

Warnings: It’s a little angsty.. And there is bad language!

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I’ve been very sick!! Thank you everybody who has been reading this!! The amount of feedback has been incredible and amazing and I’m so thankful!! xo

Keep reading

It’s a [Tinder] Date!

Summary: Natasha convinces Steve to get Tinder. In Queens, Peter does the same to you. 

Word Count: 6,442

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’m re-posting this one because I love it and yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

Nat raised a brow, a mysterious curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, and wanted to get caught.

“You left your phone on the coffee table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.

Keep reading

Ladies Night

Summary: You and Lance have a ladies night.

Pairing: Lance x Reader

Warnings: nothin’ but fluff here

A/N: Just trying to shake off my writers block. I hope you guys like this!

“I’ll be at the bar down the road if you need me.” your boyfriend of 3 years says after you just got done telling him what you were going to be doing tonight.

“What? Why? Stay home with me!” you exclaim adding a pout to your lips.

Lance scoffed. “Y/N, I’m not gonna stay home with you and watch you have a ‘ladies night’. That shit sounds boring.”

“Who said you were just gonna watch me? You can join in too.” you smile but Lance still holds a blank face.

“Yeah… no.”

You frown. “Why?”

Lance sighs and runs his fingers through his non-gelled hair. “Because, Y/N. That’s girl shit and I’m a manly man and manly men don’t do girl shit like that.” he says. “I’ll be at the bar, see you when I get home.”

“What’s next?”

You smile and start rummaging through the bag that was next to you. “Well I got these face masks from Target earlier and I was gonna try them out.”

You hold out the different types of face masks to Lance and he scans them over. “I want whichever one you’re gonna do.”

“Hmm.. this one is a cucumber one and it says it’s soothing and calming for the skin and this one is a charcoal paper mask. It says it detoxifies and cleans pores. Oh and-”

“That one, I want that one.” Lance cuts you off as he snatches the little red and black pouch from your hands. “Gotta clean my pores.”

You stifle a laugh at your ‘manly man’ of a boyfriend who was reading the ingredients of the pouch, the skin between his eyebrows creasing as he murmured the words.

“Water… aloe vera… leaf juice? What the fuck?” he scoffed and shook his head before continuing. “Charcoal powder, green tea… witch hazel?” he looks up at you. “Umm… I dunno about you but I’ve seen The Blair Witch Project, number one and two and I don’t fuck with witches so…”

“Not that kind of witch, babe.” you giggle. “In this case, it’s used to treat blemishes.”

Lance sighs. “Dunno what you’re talking about, this face has no blemishes.” he pats his cheeks with a smirk and you roll your eyes.

“Anyways…” you hum, reading the directions. “gently unfold mask and apply to clean skin.” you pause and look over at Lance. “You got clean skin?”

“Yup. Do you?”

“Mhm.” you go back to the directions. “Adjust around eyes, nose and mouth, smoothing to fit the curves of your gorgeous face.”

“See, even the face mask pouch thinks my face is gorgeous.” he beams.

You let out a little laugh and shake your head once again. “Close eyes and relax for ten minutes. Remove mask. Tingling? Yes, it’s working.”

Lance’s eyes shoot up to meet yours. “Tingling?”

You nod. “That’s what it says.”

“Like… it’s gonna burn my face or something?”

“I don’t think that-”

“Sweetheart, I love you and all but I don’t think I can do this. You see, what attracted you to me was my looks and-”

You interrupt him. “It wasn’t your looks, Lance.”

You see the gymnasts mouth curve into a smirk. “Oh yeah, that’s right. It was my huge-”

“Personality!” you exclaim before he could finish his sentence. “It was your personality, jeez.”

Lance lets out a loud laugh, rolling onto his side on the floor and you roll your eyes again. This man would be the death of you.

“Alright, alright, stop laughing and let’s put these on.”

“Did she really?” Lance questioned as you painted his nails with a clear coat.

“Yup.” you pop the ‘p’, also nodding.

“Wow…” he muttered. “I can’t believe Janice fucked a married man who had kids.”

“Mmm!” you hum, sipping your drink. “And get this; she’s married with kids too!”

Lance gasped. “No fucking way, are you serious?”

“Mhm.” you nod.

Janice was the ‘new’ girl who you worked with you and recently you had found out that she was screwing another one of your coworkers who was supposedly happily married with children. 4 to be exact.

“How’d you find all this out?” he questioned as he leaned over to the little coffee table you had in the living room to take a sip of his drink.

“The coworker she was screwing - David – his wife came in and flipped her shit. She was like ‘I can’t fucking believe what a pig you are, screwing your coworker, blah blah blah’ and he was like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about honey, please let’s just go outside’ and he went to grab her hand but she did this matrix move and was like ‘you don’t know what I’m talking about? Really? You’re gonna play fucking dumb? Who the fuck is Janice, David? Hmm? Where is she?’ and everyone else was just watching. We were all giving each other looks like holy shit this is some good stuff. I think Marcos videotaped the whole thing.”

“Oh my god.” Lance’s eyes were wide and you finish up his right hand, now moving to his left. “And where was Janice? Did she get fucked up?”

“Oh honey,” you say. “the bitch got lucky because it was her day off. But when she comes to work on Monday she’s gonna get the ass whooping of a lifetime because David’s wife said she was gonna come again.”

Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows and let out a puff of air. “Jesus, the people you work with are crazy. All I work with is teens and the only drama I hear is ‘oh my god, Jennifer totally bought the same exact top as me, I can’t believe she’d do that’.” he says the last part in a high pitched voice, causing you to laugh. “Please keep me in the loop. I wanna know if Janice gets fucked up by David’s wife. She sounds like a boss ass bitch.”

“She is.” you agree. “And don’t worry, I will.”

You go back to focusing on painting Lance’s nails when the front door opens and in comes Hope. “Hey, I saw Lance ‘The Fucker’ Tucker was home but I decided to come in anyways and-” she stops dead in her tracks when she looks up and sees you painting Lance’s nails while Lance is drinking his alcoholic beverage. “What the fuck?”

“Hey Hope.” you hum.

“Hey sugar tits.” Lance smiles at your best friend.

You look over at her. “You do have some sugary tits.”

“I… you… what the fuck is going on?” she stutters, eyes going from you to Lance.

“Ladies night, don’t fucking ruin it.” he says.

Hope looks at you and you shrug. “You heard him. Don’t fucking ruin it.”

“Ew. You guys are weird.” her nose scrunches. “I’m just gonna go.”

“Okay.” you nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow… lemme just…” she pulls her phone out and aims it at the two of you.

“Are you taking a picture?” Lance asks.


He quickly poses, head tilting to the side as he smiles and you laugh. Hope takes the picture and looks at it. “Ben’s not gonna believe this.”

“Send me that picture!” Lance calls out just before Hope shuts the door. You and Lance look at each other before going back to what you were doing previously. “Anyhow, let me tell you about this girl I threw up on at a frat party in college.”

“Lance, that was me.”

“Oh yeah…” he hummed. “So anyways…”

A/N: Tell me what ya think! Also I’ll edit laterrrrr, gonna eat some tacos :)


@your-puddin @heismyhunter @buchananbarnestrash @live-in-the-now10 @jcb2k16 @plumqueenbucky @thefandomplace @chocolatereignz @blueberry-pens @professionally-crazed @idk-something-amazing-i-guess @almondbuttercup @janetgenea @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @rvb-and-marvel-shit @rosyskies @winterboobaer @thyotakukimkim @hattnco @millaraysuyai @themercurialmadhatter @miss-jessi29 @snakesgoethe @helloitsgrc @welcometothecasmofsar @aboxinthestars @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @fandomaniacxx @hatterripper31 @coffeeismylife28 @bunchofandoms @bobabucky @under-dah-sea @amrita31199 @sebstanthemanxo @mrs-brxghtside @marvelrevival @amistillmyself @bearded-bucky @ballerinafairyprincess @spnhybrid @marvel-fanfiction @queen–valeskaxx @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @sophs-the-name @fstobsessed @rebekastan98 @fuckmewintertucker @hellstempermentalangel @wunnywho @lenia1d @annieluc @theassetseyeliner @yikesbuckster @iamwarrenspeace @goldenrain2 @supernatural-girl97 @satanssmuts @jayankles @fuckmesebby @lilasiannerd @liffydaze @cassandras-musings @broken-pieces @4theluvofall @minervaem @tatortot2701 @kalenajdgaf-blog @rda1989 @avc212 @nylalushlifexx @alwayshave-faith @langinator @aquabrie @hollycornish  @learisa @buckybarnesismypreciousplum @marvelouslyloki @debzybrazy

anonymous asked:

nac but I don't really understand the whole "snape was working for dumbledore instead of Voldemort" thing, even though I've read DH countless times. Could you explain it to me please?

uuuuuuuhm, i think i need more specifics maybe? but I’ll try, I will give you the gist of it with my own style~

snape joined the DEs when he got out of hogwarts and was super good at it, he became one of LV’s most trusted men, then he fucked up (i mean, according to his standards because by mine joining the DEs at all would be considered fucking up) cuz he heard the prophecy and ran and told LV like a good boy and LV was like AHA IT MUST BE THOSE PESKY POTTERS. So Snape was like “ohshitohshit Lily is one of those and i still love her lots, i fucked up i fucked up.” So he asks LV to spare Lily because he loves her and LV is like, yeah fine I’ll do you this solid to the best of my ability. But Snape isn’t dumb, he knows that LV will kill her if it suits him, so he goes to Dumbledore and is like “I FUCKED UP. PLEASE KEEP LILY SAFE” and Dumbles is basically like ‘surely LV will spare her for you in exchange for her son’ and snape is like ‘yeah i already asked for that.’ so Dumbs is all ‘dont fucking talk to me you piece of shit, youre here asking me to save lily and dont care about her husband and son?? bye sucka, i don’t wanna hear you whine.” so snape backtracks like FINE HIDE THEM ALL THEN and dumbles, being dumbles, is like hmm okay I can use this to my advantage. “what chu gon do for me in return?”  And thats how Snape started working as a double agent.  and continued to work for dumbles and carry out his plan up through both their deaths

GOT7 reaction | You wearing a dress

I really liked the idea of doing a GOT7 reaction so that’s what I went for, thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy! 💜 (keep in mind though that it’s my first GOT7 reaction please~)


The moment this boy saw you leave your shared bedroom dressed in a gorgeous red dress, with you nervously pulling at the edges a bit, he would honestly just melt. 

When you raised your gaze to look at him, you saw he was giving you such a loving smile, you couldn’t help but blush at the way he was gazing at you. He’d stand up, take your hand in his and twirl you around to get a better view.

“Y/N, you look so beautiful in that dress…”

Originally posted by tuanpumpkins


When our great leader saw you appear in that cute black dress, he’d probably do a double take. Because although you did look really good in that dress, he’d probably also get a little protective over you, thinking the edge of it was a little too high up your legs.

Not like he wouldn’t be all for you wearing whatever you wanted, but he just wouldn’t like the idea of other men ogling you much.

“Babe, you look absolutely gorgeous, but don’t you think it’s a little short?”

yeah you’re cute all jealous but i’m still wearing it thank you very much

Originally posted by saranghaeyojw


His heart would skip a beat when you stood before him in your favourite black dress, which was also his favourite dress on you. You didn’t wear it much, but whenever you did, Jackson would be all over you. (not that he wouldn’t when you didn’t wear a dress, but you know)

He’d bite his lip, and look you over, more than once. Then his eyes would settle on your face, and he’d give you such an adorable smile, that this time it was your heart skipping a beat.

“You look so stunning… are you sure we have to go out today?”

Originally posted by juxghoseok


When you exited your dressing room wearing a pretty floral dress, Jinyoung was facing the other way, so you cleared your throat to catch his attention. As soon as he turned around to look at you, and saw what you were wearing, his gaze would be stuck on you and it would be like that for the rest of the day.

You got a little shy because of the way he was staring at you so you glanced down at your feet, until you felt a hand gently lift your chin, and warm brown eyes met yours. 

“No need to be shy princess, you look so beautiful, you always do.”

Originally posted by tuanpumpkins


This boy would notice it immediately when you entered the room in a cute green dress, his favourite colour. He’d get up from his seat (nearly falling in the process) and rush over to you to get a better look of you in the dress, asking you to turn around for him.

When you did, he’d beam at you adoringly and cup your cheeks in between his hands, giving you a happy and sweet kiss.

“How did I ever get lucky enough to end up with such a beautiful angel?”

Originally posted by gsvnrewind


this boy istg Deciding to wear a dress around Bambam is basically asking for trouble. So when you emerged from the bedroom in a lacy purple dress, you should’ve expected him to drop whatever it was what he was doing the moment he saw you- because that’s exactly what would happen.

He’d walk over to you, all the while checking over your form. With a smirk playing on his lips, he’d place his hands on your hips, and give you a suggestive look.

“Hey there beautiful, nice dress you got there. But I bet it would look even nicer on the floor…”

Originally posted by tanjhent


You were standing in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while you smoothed out the fabric of your blue dress. Since you usually didn’t wear them, you were kind of hesitant whether you should that day.

At that moment, Yugyeom opened the door, and froze in the doorway when he saw you. He’d probably just stand there for a while, staring at you, completely in awe. He’d only snap out of it when you asked him for his opinion on the dress. A loving smile appeared on his youthful face.

“Although you are beautiful in anything you wear, that dress does look so lovely on you sweetheart…”

Originally posted by chattyang

Sarah J. Maas Villains by Evilness
  • Tamlin: it's hard to call someone evil when they're a punk bitch, but he's not a good dude and frankly deserves to be shaded at every opportunity including this one. EVIL: 2/10
  • Arobynn Hamel: okay this guy right here.. this guy right here.. u don't have to have magic to be an evil snake. and he is an evil snake. screw that guy and his greasy ass hair. EVIL: 9/10
  • Amarantha: basically the riddler. literally built an evil city based on an evil city like okay thats some kind of twisted design show shit?? much curse. much sexual abuse. much BITCH. EVIL: 9.2/10
  • King of Hybern: racist af. just wants power, that's it. like will do anything for power. stupid shit. that's his whole motive, which is kinda lame tbh? like dude hit me up when you get a juicy backstory. EVIL: 9.3/10.
  • The Matron Witch: infanticide is not chill. neither is everything else this bitch had did. also her teeth are grody af (dentists hate her and so do i). EVIL: 9.4/10
  • King of Adarlan/That One Valg King: super evil, broke his precious bby son, but ultimately only exists because when the king was a dumbass teenager he tried to mess with magic shit.. he gets bonus evil points because genocide. EVIL: 9.5/10
  • Maeve: yo.. maximum snake. enslaves beautiful bird/wolf/lion men. tricks bitches....... like real intricate, long term trickery too. terrible aunt. what that bitch did and is still doin... :////////..... nah fam. nah. she the worst lady. EVIL: 10/10
  • Erawan: i mean yeah he's evil? but he kinda lacks substance like "why are you evil?" "because I AM THE BANE OF EVIL!!!!" like.. okay. that said, without him, the throne of glass universe would be pretty chill. he's only l'il more evil than maeve because he's older and crankier and is set on total destruction rather than power. so yeah. EVIL: 10.1/10
what goes around comes around (a fic for the glorious 25th of may)

The first time Lu-Tze learned of the Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road was long before Sam Vimes got caught in a thunderstorm and was swept thirty years into the past. In fact, when Lu-Tze was young and light on his feet and had only just moved to Ankh-Morpork for the first time, he took a wrong turn and stumbled upon a narrative temporal phenomenon the likes of which he had never seen in his life.

He was picking up some groceries for Mrs. Cosmopolite, who was graciously allowing him lodging, because was it not written that What Goes Around Comes Around? He was also lost.

He tried asking random passerby for directions, but his attempts were all rebuffed with variants on “up yours, mister” and the slurs that were generally leveled at anyone who looked too foreign for their own good. So instead of turning onto the Pitts as she should have, he missed the intersection and continued straight ahead.

It was the 25th of May. Spring was battling valiantly against the smog and grime of the city, and contrary to all expectation the few shrubs that had survived were putting out green shoots.

Lu-Tze hitched up the bag of groceries and thought the sacred wisdom: My Joints Aren’t What They Used To Be. He was a bit young for that one, he reflected, but was not all wisdom valuable?

He turned onto Treacle Mine Road.

It was noon. Bright and sunny. The street was loud and busy with carts and animals and people, as you’d expect on any weekday. And yet as he walked forward, the sun dimmed. The air cooled. The hustle of the streets became muffled, farther away.

The scent of lilac filled in the air.

The hairs on his arms tingled like a storm was approaching.

He took a good look around, really looked rather than focusing on the unimportant surface bits, like the buildings and the people—and nearly choked on his own tongue.

This—this was—it was a disruption in the space-time continuum so extreme that it was a wonder anyone in the immediate vicinity was still alive. This was a rift so profound that rationally speaking, he should be standing in the equivalent of a smoking crater where a chunk of functional reality used to be.

There were no words to describe the wrongness of this place. You could say that the passage of time in this location was like a length of yarn which had been bundled into a ball and left unattended in a room full of eager-eyed kittens. (It would be blatantly incorrect, but you could definitely say that.)

“Ye gods,” said Lu-Tze, because some words always worked.

He ditched the groceries and started running.

He burst through the door of Mrs. Cosmopolite’s boarding house with a crash. The hostess jumped in surprise and nearly hit him over the head with the plate she was drying, but restrained herself, because that wasn’t Done. Instead she shouted, “Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?”

“No time!”

If he’d stopped to think properly he would have realized how stupid a statement that was, but he was busy racing up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed his emergency supply pack from under the bed and dashed out again.

There were images in his head that didn’t make sense—darkness and rain and a silver cigar case, gleaming on the cobbles, and lilacs blooming in the night, over and over again.

When he returned to Treacle Mine Road he knelt down in the middle of the street, right in the middle of traffic, and the carts moved smoothly around him without a blink, despite their relocation occasionally involved a minor rewriting of the conventional laws of physics. He barely noticed. He found a bare patch of dirt and got to work. He would be hard-pressed to construct a sophisticated detection mandala on such short notice, but he would damn well make do…

The air crackled with energy as he finished the last curve on the mandala. He dusted his hands and waited.

It began to turn.

The patterns shifted, then stilled.

He frowned. “No,” he said. “That can’t be right.  Historical imperative? But this is so obviously a narrative disruption. An unfinished story.”

A rift in time that didn’t exist, memories of events that never happened… it had to be a result of an incomplete narrative unable to achieve a single resolution. Something, somewhen, had gone wrong, and a major role had gone unfulfilled, and now the phenomenon was scrabbling for a solution.

“Must be incorrectly set up,” he muttered to himself. “I mean, this thing is telling me there should be a major temporal incident any moment now—”

Unfortunately, the young Lu-Tze had not yet learned some valuable wisdom. For is it not written that You Are So Sharp You’ll Cut Yourself?

There was a sound like an elastic band snapping, and the world turned sideways.

He stumbled upright once the universe had returned to something close to normal and scrambled to get his bearings. He was still in the present day, but another time was—how to describe it, how to describe it—layered on top, one moment falling over the other like snow. Fog and wind and darkness swirled in, obscuring the sky, wreathing around the figures in the courtyard before him.

The men were wearing Watch uniforms.

“Okay, lads,” said one of the men. He had an eyepatch and a battered breastplate, and a voice that echoed as if it was coming from very far away. Years ago, thought Lu-Tze. “What we’re going to do is keep the peace. That’s our job…”

If Lu-Tze concentrated, he could still feel the rush of wind from the passing street and hear the sound of the busy city. But here, in a much more real sense, he could see the watchmen shuffling anxiously as they listened to the sergeant-at-arms. He talked about duty and right and wrong, and then he drew a line in the sand, and then the men made their choice.

History struck a chord.

The world shifted.

A barricade climbed into the air, higher and higher, packed with furniture and upturned carts and spare wood, held up by desperate hope and bottomless fear, the rawest emotions of humanity. When sufficiently concentrate, those were capable of twisting time into knots so complex that only a master of the temporal would ever be able to undo them.

And why would they want to? So what if someone thought it was odd that time crawled by while they were under stress, or if it went by instantly during a fun afternoon? That was what made people human. 

That sound again, and the world changed again—

A battle was raging around him. Men in battered uniforms, not many, fighting for their lives, wearing the lilac…

…the man with the eyepatch leapt forward, sword a blur in his hands, hacking wildly…

…and across the street, untouched by the carnage, was a little old man in a robe. He was sweeping peacefully at a patch of dust, undisturbed by the blood and guts and destruction whirling around him. It was surreal.

The old man looked up and winked.

Time stood still.

(Well, it didn’t really stand still, but the true answer involved multivariable calculus and besides, it was a useful metaphor and at this moment in time Lu-Tze was not the type to spend valuable effort messing about with the sneaky kind of sums with letters in them.)

The old sweeper carefully plodded across the frozen tableau, ducking under an upraised sword and stepping around the body of a watchman who had not yet hit the ground.

Ah, so another monk was on the problem, then? The young time-traveler stood up straight and tried to act like this was an expected development.

“Hey, kid,” said the sweeper. “You look like you could use a cup of tea.”

* * *

Lu-Tze was convinced that this particular branch of the No Such Monastery did not exist in the present day, which made it quite worrying that it appeared to exist in both the past and the future.

He sipped his tea with yak butter and eyed the old sweeper suspiciously. He distrusted older authority figures on principle.

“So you spotted the incongruity, did you,” said the sweeper. “Historical imperative’s a tricky thing, isn’t it.”

“It’s not historical imperative. It’s narrative causality.”

The sweeper sighed. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo. It’s both. The Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road… it didn’t take long for the city to forget, but the story still leaves echoes. It wants to be remembered.”

The young man frowned. “I kept having memories of things that never happened. Deja vu without the original vu.”

“Sounds pretty standard. Lilacs, right? You smelled the lilacs? That’s the anchor. On the Glorious 25th of May, the lilacs are in bloom. They will always be in bloom, forever and ever, for as long as time exists, and whenever the survivors see it, they’ll be brought back here. Even poor sods like you with receptive enough minds will be saddled with this piece of history.”

“But this doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t understand why a bunch of men would just get themselves killed like that just—just to be heroes.” Lu-Tze knew a dramatic last stand when he saw one.

“Yeah, see, that’s ‘cos you’re seventeen and I’m old and wise,” said the sweeper. “Why do we fix time? Is it because we want to be heroic? Is it because we have to? No, we do it because we could just let time curl in on itself and extinguish all the complicated bits like sentient life, but we decide to make fixing this mess our job.”

“But—alright, fine, but there’s still a gigantic rift in reality and I’m standing in it. What are you going to do about it?”



“You heard me. There’s no reason to muck about with a story that’s looking to be told. This case is unusual, mostly ‘cause it’s a bit under-construction if you know what I mean, but yea, is it not written that There’s A First Time For Everything?”

The young time-traveler sat bolt upright. “You—you’re a follower of the Way? But none of the senior monks—it’s just a thing that I made up so—I mean—”

The sweeper shook his head sadly. “Hoo boy. I really am paying for how much of an idiot back then. I suppose What Goes Around Comes Around.”

The young history monk’s eyes widened, realization dawning. He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man interrupted him. “Now, this is slightly more complicated than a standard closed time loop, since you’re not here in any physical sense. So if I just…”

He slashed his hand through the air. The air began to sing with mounting tension, time itself groaning under the weight, and the world snapped back to the present.

The city streets bustled around him. Lu-Tze’s mouth was slack with shock. Had that really been…?

He looked down at the mandala he had scrawled in the dirt. The wind had scrubbed it out.

Overhead, the lilacs were in bloom.

I know it’s comforting to believe humans are shaped completely by socialization and it’s the reason why one group of people would oppress another, but socialization wasn’t there from the beginning of earth, and it started from somewhere, and if we’re going to analyze and criticize patriarchy we have to look at the root, who started the male and female socialization, for whose benefit is it being carried out?

Male socialization is of their own creation, it’s just men being true to themselves. Since they established patriarchy why wouldn’t they make a system that gives them freedom to be who they really are? If you look at the differences between male and female socialization, males get shown from early age that it’s okay to indulge in all of their needs and wants, it’s okay for them to do whatever their nature tells them to do, it’s okay to give into their impulses and passions, it’s okay to get violent to get what they want, it’s even okay if they enslave, rape, destroy, kill, force, wound, torture, it’s fine, they should be able to get away with it, and even get admired and praised for it! It enables them to be true to themselves, it’s a lifestyle that supports their nature and even celebrates it, if you look at male created systems and representation, they’re all celebrating the male nature, they’re celebrating the wars and destruction and rape and trauma and they claim it’s all “victory” of their kind!

Female socialization in turn is constantly being told no, nothing you are or you do is good enough, you shouldn’t even want to be anything, except if it happens to fall into small spectrum of “whatever is convenient to men”. All of your qualities that men can’t use for their benefit are worthless, all of your effort and energy has to be spent on men or it’s wasted, your nature has to be suppressed, you actually get told what your nature is and if it’s not that, you must not be a woman, we’re socialized to consistently go against our feelings, our instincts, our desires, our knowledge, our needs and wants, even worse, we’re told that we’re not allowed to have any, and accept “whatever men say are female needs and desires” as if they’re our own.

Patriarchy shows the true nature of men, while hiding the nature of women. But true nature isn’t overwritten by socialization, because if that’s true, there would be no resistance to it, by now we’d all be fembots, not even thinking we exist for anything other than men. But we are resisting, no matter how much they socialize and brainwash and enslave and torture us, our true nature is fighting thru, we’re fighting to see who we are and what we’re like, for every generation women are standing up to our socialization and our oppressors and screaming and fighting to find a way out, to be able to live up to our true nature, to stop the torture of living suppressed.

The exact opposite can be said for men, they have no reason to ever resist patriarchy because they are already living their true nature, yeah even the “sensitive” and “non-conforming” types, they’re all fighting only to be appreciated and valued more within the system, but never to destroy the system because it’s still all in favour of their nature, some just want to be coddled even more within it. If men’s nature was the opposite of patriarchy they would already bring it down, but they have shown zero intention to do anything like that, and defend it with all they got.

Support System // Jensen

Summary: You’re an actress with a strong career but sometimes life gets you down and the struggle comes with your dyslexia but with Jensen and your friends they help. Especially when you’ve bonded with your on-screen father Dean. That bond is true in reality too so how do they all help?

Characters: Jensen x platonic!reader, Jared Padalecki, Danneel Ackles (Harris)

Words: 1149

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I do not own any gifs, images or songs that may appear in this. Also I know very little about dyslexia but I’m going my very best.

Warning: Swearing, breakdown, sad reader, dyslexia,  little angst and a lot of fluff.

Requested: @purely-myself-03

Author: Caitsy.

Tagging: At the end.

A/N We have a request for everyone else. Can you please request some things or take a look at the prompt list? The more requests we get the more you’ll all get to read.

Originally posted by the-spncest

The entertainment business is extremely hard to work in among the fight to get work to the rumours that circulate around your name. It’s even more difficult when you have any problems that the media deems ‘unworthy of work’ or you’re stamped with ‘may cause production problems’. You were in that category.

You were a damn good actress from the amount of success and reviews you’ve received over the years. You were dedicated to your career even if you had trouble reading the script sometimes but it would be extremely difficult at times. You’re latest gig was a spot on the show Supernatural. You had debuted in the season finale and now you were filming the new season.

The rain was pouring outside the motel room where Dean and Sam were going over the case they were working. Beers littered the table but no food yet. They had ordered a couple pizzas that would arrive any moment to the impatience of Dean.

“So we still have little to no know idea on what we’re fighting?” Dean asked taking a pull from the bottle.

“No. We might need Cas because it’s would be a witch or something worse.” Sam replied rubbing his face as both men leaned back in their chairs. There was a knock of the door before he could continue.

“You grab the pizza, I’m going to use the bathroom.” Dean said climbing to feet and going into the attached room, “Do not eat it all!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam chuckled grabbing his wallet and opening the door to see a young and freezing teenager on the doorstep. She held two pizzas but other than that she wasn’t holding anything but a duffle bag.


“Um. No I think you have the wrong room but that pizza is ours.” Sam replied reaching for it. The teen quickly moved back with a rapid shake of her head.

“No. You must be Sam.”

The clicking of a gun from behind Sam was heard. Both turned to see a furious Dean Winchester aiming a gun at the teens head. The teen’s eye rapidly grew before she shoved the pizza at Sam and raised her arms.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m…I’m Millie Campbell Winchester!” The teen exclaimed hiding behind the door jam, “I don’t legally go by Winchester!”

“What the fuck are you pulling?” Dean hissed edging backwards into the room, “Get in here.”

“We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Pl-please put the gun down.”  Bell weakly asked stepping into the room. The gun was lowered at the nod of Sam.

“Who are you really?” Sam asked.

“I’m not kidding! I’m Mille Campbell Winchester. I’m nineteen years old and I was named after my great-grandma Millie. Everyone calls me Bell.”

“Cas, we need help.” Dean grumbled.

Bell jumped at the sudden appearance of an Angel in the room where he tilted his head at Bell before looking at Dean.

“You called?”

“Who is this?” Dean demanded not removing his eyes from her. Castiel came closer to Bell in curiosity before he nodded.

“This would be your daughter Millie Campbell Winchester-Murdock.” Can said looking at Dean, “Did you not get that voicemail?”

“Jesus.” Dean groaned, “I have a child? You’re dropping the Murdock, kid.”

Ever since you had devoted yourself to going over your script countless times but sometimes you struggled like today. You woke up knowing it was going to be horrible because you woke up late and your mother informed you the family was coming for a visit. When you stopped in for a coffee at your favourite place you noticed you were having more trouble than usual reading the menu.

“No, no, no.” You grumbled. You knew it was because you’re demanding and hectic family was coming. They didn’t understand how terrible it was to work and keep them happy in your home.
It got worse when you forgot all your lines in the first scene and you were shaking because you couldn’t even read anything in the script.

“I-I-I…”You mumbled running to the favourite place you had. You said there sobbing trying to rip the script up in your hands, “I QUIT! THIS BULLSHIT!”

“Y/N? Where are you?” Jared’s voice asked before he caught side for your hiccuping and shaking body, “Shit.”

Jared backtracked quickly because they only person that could calm you down was Jensen. You two had bonded and developed a distinct bond normally between father and daughter. You had a terrible childhood with your father and it got worse when he fled the family.

“J?” Jared called rushing up to his best friend.

“Yeah?” Jensen asked, “Find Y/N?”

“That’s the thing. She’s having a breakdown.”

Jensen shoved his own script at Jared before he swiftly went the place you went to the most. His heart broke at the sight of you rocking yourself with large sobs. He noticed the attempts at tearing the script apart.

“Y/N/N? Honey.” Jensen whispered pulling the teen into his arms. He rocked them in attempts to calm her down, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I ca-“ You hiccuped.

“Hey, take a deep breath with me.” Jensen whispered placing your hand on his chest, “Feel my heart beating? Think of how it’s beat and match my breathing okay?”


“Sh, don’t talk but taking deep breaths for me.” Jensen whispered as your head fall onto his chest and the shaking dwindled.

“My family’s coming.” You started with a shaky voice, “I knew it was going to be bad because I couldn’t order a coffee and I was nearly late to work!”

“Why were you almost late.” Jensen questioned not noticing as majority of the cast watched with a few photos and a visiting Danneel smiling.

“I couldn’t read the signs! My phone died too!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We all have bad days, remember last week?” Jensen questioned leaning back, “Jared couldn’t find his lucky necklace?”

“The one the boys made for him?” You asked.

“Yeah, I had a meltdown but you were there with your computer and Gen was on there with the boys.” Jared sadly smiled as he crouched in front of you.

“You don’t know how hard it is being dyslexic.” You whimpered.

“No we don’t, but we see a strong young woman with a support system that greatly helps you.” Jensen said, “It’s a scene that can be switched out, you know everyone understands that sometimes you can’t work and that goes for everyone. How about Danneel, you and I go get ice cream?”

“Okay.” You sniffled smiling when Jensen brushed the tears away and Danneel helped you up with a smile.

“I may not have given life to you but you’re my honorary daughter.” Danneel grinned before Jensen pulled both of you into a hug.

“Come on kid. I don’t let my kids live with no ice cream.”

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Best Friends Don't Use A Couple Hashtag

For Day One of NurseyDex Week - Getting Together/Mutual Pining

Nursey/Dex Week: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7

(Read on AO3)

It started the summer between sophomore and junior year. Dex was trying to spend the summer ignoring the fact that he had to start sharing a room with Nursey and ignoring Nursey all together. He was doing a pretty good job of it until he began noticing a guy pop up in Nurse’s social media more and more. His name was Huntington and Dex hated him on principle because of that name.

Every time he opened up Snapchat it was filled with Nursey and Hunt’s faces using the latest filter. If he tried to open Instagram there would be photos of the latest meal Hunt and Nursey were eating with the tag #Nursington. And forget Facebook. There Dex had to hide posts from Hunt all together because he tagged Nursey in everything. Clearly Nursey had a boyfriend and hadn’t mentioned it to the group or his to be roommate and d-man. Best friends don’t use a couple hashtag after all.

He found it odd too that none of the guys were asking him about it. Usually fledgling romances were like a drop of blood in the water that sent Holster and Ransom into a frenzy. But somehow the chat was silent and the comments left on posts were innocuous.

One afternoon Dex opened his phone and was greeted with the sight of Nurse and Hunt at NYC Pride and threw his phone down with a huff.

“What’s wrong?” his sister asked.

“Nothing Erin,” he mumbled, looking at the ceiling.

Swiping her brother phone Erin opened it and looked at the photo of the two men on screen. “See you’re still pining over your friend,” she smirked.

“I am not pining. I do not like Derek Nurse for the last time.”

“You do. You know you do. I know because you argue with him a lot. Which means you can’t figure out how to process feelings like a real person and find really weird things to get angry about like that jaywalking story.”

“He wouldn’t on the grass because it would wet his loafers wet Erin! Who does that!” he exclaimed looking frazzled.

“Yeah and you weirdly like that about him,” she teased.

“I hate you.”


Keep reading


Originally posted by effindivergenteric

Prompt 9: Eric Coulter

“You can’t hate someone who know’s where they belong.”


Y/N- Your name

H/C- Hair color

G/N- Guy’s name

Tagging- @wynterrobin

@buried-in-books (I know you were excited for this so I hope you like it and it lives up to your standards!)

Okay, this took a 180 on me and I hope you all like it because I still have no idea where this went. 

“Erudite!” Her heart dropped, when she saw her little brother choose something other than Dauntless. They were Dauntless born, yet she knew in her heart that he had never fit in, so it didn’t come as a complete shock. She watched him walk towards where the people in Erudite sat, avoiding looking in her direction.

She swallowed hard, looking forward hearing the whispers behind her. Since she was a leader, they had known that he was her little brother who always hung around her.

“Traitor.” She heard one of the girls behind her hiss out. Y/N found herself digging her nails into her palms trying to avoid turning and decking the girl behind her.

It was rare for a child born from Dauntless to leave, but it was always a possibility. “Coward.” She heard another call out, her rage seeped through and she turned glaring at the two Dauntless born initiates.   

They froze slightly, before their faces turned blank. She memorized their faces ready to put them through hell since she was apart of their training. She turned back, waiting for the ceremony to be over.

“Y/N,” She glanced at Four, seeing his worrisome brown eyes. “It’s time to go.”

She nodded standing up, catching her brothers eyes. She placed her hand over her heart, managing a small smile. He blinked a few times, sending her the boyish grin that she loved so well. Y/N turned, following after the initiates starting into a low jog, before she started sprinting, catching up to Four and the other leaders.

Y/N found herself smirking slightly when all of the Dauntless initiates and the Dauntless born hesitated at the wall, each of them looking at Eric confused. She moved to stand next to Eric, smirking at them. “Seem’s like all of the initiates are cowards.” She held out her hand, while he angrily slapped money into her hand when an initiate from Candor stepped up. The initiate hesitated before closing his eyes, falling into the hole. She patted Eric’s shoulder before she let herself fall backward. She hit the net, bouncing up before rolling to the side, allowing Four to help her down. “Who’s the first jumper?”

“Eli,” Four gestured to the dark haired male behind her. “You leaving?” She nodded not caring to see the initiates. She wasn’t interested, and she wanted to lay down. In her heart she knew that it was going to be hard, to go back to an empty home but she needed to get used to the loneliness.

She laid back on the couch, clutching the letter in her hand. She didn’t bother getting up, when she heard the door bang against the wall.

“Y/N!” Eric’s voice boomed throughout her home. She sat up, quirking an eyebrow at him while he glared at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious.. The welcome doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes,” She laid back hiding the letter behind her back.

He moved pushing her legs down, so he could sit. She rolled her eyes, moving her legs so that they rested on top of his. “You’re brother-”

“Say some shit about him Eric, I dare you.” She hissed, moving her legs sitting up.

“Why are you so defensive for him. Faction before blood.” Eric growled out, crossing his arms. “He’s a traitor to his own faction.”

“That’s funny coming from you. Did you do the same to Erudite?” She got up, folding the letter placing it in her back pocket. The last thing she wanted to do was fight a friend but he was the known asshole who loved to kick people when they were down.

“Aren’t you angry? He deserted you, he’s a coward. Who the hell are you to bring up my old faction?” Eric stood up, towering over her his face angry.

She laughed, “I thought you of all people that you might understand, you goddamn hypocrite. You may not have been scared, but the type of person he is; is totally different from you. He may have grew up here, but he didn’t have a sense of belonging here. It takes courage…” She stopped feeling her voice crack, she held her hand up at him trying to find the courage and strength not to cry. “You can’t hate someone who knows where they belong.” She moved away from him, walking towards her room. “You can show yourself out.”

She held a grin over her face, trying to seem excited when she felt anything but. She watched the initiates marvel at everything around them. She leaned against the railing, standing next to Four. “I would give anything to leave right now.”

“Let’s go for a run then,” Four rolled his eyes down at the screaming initiates.  

“I can’t. Leadership duties.” She sighed, pushing Eric off when he stood next to her, slinging his arm over her shoulder. “Get off Eric before I push you over the railing.”

“Ouch. What are you doing up here Stiff? This is where leaders stay,” Eric glared over at Four, while she rolled her eyes pushing his arm off her again.

“First off it’s Four, not stiff. Secondly, I invited him.” She replied dryly waving at one of her friends below. “You wanna create a problem?” Four grinned, offering her a beer. She grinned back taking the beer, clinking her bottle to his. Eric glared down at her, bumping her shoulder as he walked away.

“You know you don’t have to defend me. What he said doesn’t bother me,” Four offered his cake to her. “Here, it’s too sweet.”

“It bothers me. Being Dauntless doesn’t give you a right to be an asshole.” She sighed taking his cake, relishing in the sweetness. “Are you training the initiates this year? Or are you going to take a break?”

“No, I’m still training. Are you doing Dauntless born or the transfers?” Four asked, while she met some guy’s eye below.

“I’m not sure. Depends if I want to deal with Eric,” She grinned, seeing the guy below sending her a grin. “Hey do you know who that is?”

Four glanced down at the H/C guy, Four smirked. “That’s G/N. He guards the fence.” She hummed in agreement downing the beer.

“I’m going to get a new tattoo,” She set the bottle down, ignoring Four’s grin. Screw leadership duties right now. She threw her leg over the railing, climbing down, purposefully walking past G/N, smiling slyly. She pushed past Eric and his newest conquest.

“Where’s your new tattoo,” Four teased while they surveyed the initiates work out.

She smirked, shoving him slightly. She moved forward frowning, when Eric kicked an initiate’s hand out from underneath them. “You call that a push up?”

Her heart went out to the young girl, but the physical aspect was part of Dauntless and if she couldn’t cut it then she would become Factionless. Y/N kneeled down getting in push up position, while the girl watched her. “You’re new, so we are going to do this together today. But it’s just for today.” The girl nodded getting back up, with her arms shaking badly. “Don’t focus on the burning in your arms, focus on your breathing.”

“Like that’s gonna help,” Eric called, squatting down watching Y/N move stronger than the girl.

“Tell me Eric…” Y/N smiled holding herself up with ease. “Does a good leader help build someone up, or bring them down?”

She watched Four take the initiates on a run, while she and Eric planned who would fight who. “Why are you such an ass to the initiates?”

“They need to get their shit together.” Eric placed the weakest of the bunch with the strongest.

“You’re already designing them to fail,” She commented, popping her neck. He glanced at her, while his eyes were glued to a place on her neck. “What the hell’s so interesting on my neck?”

He rolled his eyes going back to the plan out in front of them. “Who cares if they fail? Leader’s shouldn’t show weakness. It’s pathetic.”

“You wanna know what’s pathetic Eric? Building yourself up on the backs of others, that’s not a leader.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, shoving him slightly so his attention was brought back to her.

He turned so quickly grasping her neck, shoving her up against the wall. She held his gaze, unafraid of him. His fingers brushed over the mark G/N left last night. “I didn’t see you as the type to allow other men to mark you unless things were serious.”

She let out an awkward cough, still holding his gaze. “Yeah, well the heat of the moment things happen I suppose.” She fidgeted as his fingers traced over it. “Eric, what are you doing?”

“How many months has it been, since we-” Eric started while she pushed him away slightly.

“Don’t. We both agreed that whatever we did was best left in the past,” She sighed rubbing her hand over the mark. “Wait.. hold up. You think because I allowed you to mark me then things were automatically serious.”

“Well I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else when we started,” He countered, while she went back to the plan, not wanting to get any more in depth of what they had. “We left it? You made the decision to stop.” He grasped her arm, pulling her to look at him.

“Then why did you agree,” She glared up at him, hating that she had to stare up. “Why do you care Eric?”

Eric trailed his hand down her neck, back to the mark. “I’ll see you at your place tonight.” He smirked walking towards the door.

“I’m busy,” She called after him, but he didn’t acknowledge her.

She stared at him debating on whether or not to let him in, but she glanced down at the beer and chocolate cake decided to let him in. She closed her door, turning to look at the man before her. “Now what did you want?”

“You wanna know why I care?” He stretched out her couch, looking at her expectantly. “Then let’s talk.”

“You hate talking,” she pointed out, sitting beside him grabbing a beer.

“I’m trying here Y/N,” He grunted, grabbing the beer from her hands. “That’s for me not you.” She rolled her eyes grabbing another one, before signaling for him to continue. “I care because, you’re not bad company Y/N. I don’t mind after we had sex… I didn’t mind waking up with you in the morning or having you in my arms.” She bit her lip, looking down at her beer. “What mainly draws me to you is, how unafraid you are to challenge me-,”

“You can find a lot of Dauntless women like that,” She cut him off, pulling her legs up to her chest.

“But they refuse to show weakness or show their fears,” He murmured taking another bottle. “You remember the sixth night I stayed over?” She nodded glancing down at her hands.



She was running, the men behind her yelled out in excitement when her foot caught on the loose sidewalk sending her tumbling down. She scrambled to get up but the men were already on her, she thrashed violently against their hands, but she remained pinned.

“Get off of me,” she hissed still trying to get free. She yelled out when fumbling hands groped her body. “Don’t! Stop it!” For the first time in a long time, she was afraid and useless. Her mind was begging her to scream out but her mouth was covered.

She woke up with a yell, falling off of her bed reaching under to grasp her knife. She pointed it at the shadow, she didn’t notice her trembling hands.

“Y/N, relax…” A familiar voice made her almost drop the knife. “Babe seriously? Stop pointing the goddamn knife at me.”

She blinked a few times recognizing Eric’s voice. The knife fell from her hands, while she pulled her legs into her. She hid her face, once she realized that she had a nightmare in front of Eric. “I..I”

He kicked the knife away looking down at her expectantly. He kneeled down his eyes roaming over her face. “What the hell’s your problem?”

She stood up, turning her back to him, unable to handle showing her weakness to him. “It’s nothing.” She murmured exiting the room, heading towards her small kitchen.

“It’s not nothing. You held a goddamn knife at me,” He hissed trailing after her. “What the hell happened?”

She grabbed a beer, before hailing herself up on the counter. “I had a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Eric rolled his eyes moving towards her, pushing her legs apart to stand in between them. “What happened?”

She played with the bottle avoiding looking at him. “I wasn’t strong enough to stop then men that attacked me. Unfortunately not everyone can be you and not show your fears.”

“I guess I’m just better at it.” He grinned at her, trailing his hands on top of her thighs. “How many times do you have that dream?”

She still couldn’t make herself look into his eyes. “A few times a week.” She took a sip of her beer, sighing heavily. “It’s whatever,” She set the beer down trying to get down, but he blocked her. “Eric, I need to get started on work.”

“It’s two in the morning, we are going back to bed.” He stepped back offering his hand, while she stared at it blankly. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way, you choose.”

“Is it wrong that I’m intrigued what the hard way is,” She questioned while he rolled his eyes at her again. She set the beer to the side, smacking his hand away. She laughed when he grabbed her waist, hauling her over his shoulder. She got a full view of his back, wincing but also grinning internally at the scratch marks that she had made along his back. “Where are we going?”

“To sleep,” He swatted her behind, before he threw her on the bed. He laid down next to her, grasping her into his warm arms holding her close, while she felt oddly protected. “I got you, no one’s gonna get you. Go back to sleep.”

“What of it?” She mumbled looking away from him. He made her feel safe, and she didn’t want to admit that when he was with her after that she didn’t have any nightmares.

“You trusted me enough to show me your weakness, knowing what I do to people. If I didn’t care about you then I would’ve used it against you.” He trailed his fingers over her arm making her shiver slightly. “I miss you.”

“Are you only saying that because I slept with someone else,” She trailed her fingers along the mark on her neck.

“No, I was going to say it but you were with the Stiff,” Eric rolled his eyes, his eyes trailing over the mark again. “I hate this mark on you.” She sighed shrugging, there was nothing that she could do about it. “I want us to be an us.”

“Which means what,” She looked at him confused. “We’re friends-”

“I want you to be mine and only mine.” He moved so he was kneeling in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs. “I want to wake up with you, I want to fall asleep with you. I want you.”

She reached out touching his face. “Who knew that you could be sweet.” She smiled, running her fingers across his jaw. “I know that this was hard for you and it means the world to me.” Y/N moved towards him, putting her forehead against his. “I missed you, so I’m yours, only if your mine.”

He grinned, pulling her into his arms crashing his lips to her’s. He whispered against her lips, “Yours.”

anonymous asked:

International mens day so let's list what men do wrong. Feminism is cancer and you're an idiot.

“OK everyone gonna list what men do wrong: they kill themselves a lot and they should stop doing that.”

“Hey, I’m just a humble anon but uh… fuck you and also here’s another point: fuck you again.” 

“OK well I guess I was wrong for telling men that their emotions matter and they shouldn’t die?”

Here’s the thing about a bunch of men who don’t get feminism and refuse to learn: they fucking complain so goddamn much. They do. INCESSANTLY. “Duuurrr why do we have an international WOMEN’S DAY and not an international MEN’S DAY? That’s ~ReVErRRSSEe SExISm!~” and then what? “Oh feminists keep talking about the fucking wage gap but what about men’s problems huh? No one ever talks about (insert thing here)” and that’s used constantly to derail conversations women have about their problems without actually helping men at all. So you know I decided “hey, instead of constantly mocking how these men are dipshits who don’t really give a fuck about men’s problems they just feel threatened by women taking up slightly more space in public than they used to (but still less than equal amount) let’s talk about REAL men’s problems and not make it about privilege or women and that way LITERALLY NO ONE CAN BE OFFENDED EVER AND IT WILL BE A UNIVERSALLY OK THING TO SAY.”

So queue me going “hey fellow LADS, let’s talk about our goddamn feelings instead of hurting ourselves and everyone we know and also sexual assault is fucking bad so let’s not validate and protect our BROS when they do shitty things” but silly me decided to have the briefest fucking mention of how feminism isn’t your goddamn competition for fixing your shit and you go “NUP! FUCK YOU! FEMINISM IS CANCER AND ALL YOUR POINTS ARE CLEARLY ATTACKS ON MEN YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” like some bizarre knee jerk reaction to the word like it’s a bee and you’re deathly allergic to gender issues.

God. What? You want International Men’s Day to be me just handing you a cupcake? Nah. What is the point of International Men’s Day if not to help us improve and critically examine the issues that we face in our personal lives and in a broad cultural sense? Seriously. Do you want International Men’s Day to just be a list of self-congratulatory points about “good work guys! We’re STILL the majority of people in government, CEO positions, and main characters in every single form of media! 500 points for ALL of us! Woo we did it and continue to do it!” Fuck that. You get that every day of the goddamn year but people get pissy when you point out the privilege men have because they go “yeah but men still have issues and no one’s talking about it, it’s like our problems are being silenced” and so I was like “OK. Let’s talk about the issues. First off: depression and suicide.”

And then… here we are… someone fucking idiot with no proper argument waltzes in to go “hey, fuck you for talking about men’s issues” like it’s a bad thing.

Originally posted by ffsimsohigh

Christmas Shopping time



*Sam looks around at the lights and parents dragging their screaming children away from the mall Santa. He lost Bucky in the crowd.* 

“Bucky? Bucky, there you are what are you doing?“ 

“Looking for a good Christmas present for Vision. Like what do you get someone who’s not all the way human?”

 "I don’t know batteries.“ *Bucky snorts and begins to laugh along with Sam when he points through the crowd.* “Hey is that Steve and Tony?”

“Hey! Sam! Buck!”

“Hi! Woah, Bucky, you in a mall? In a Christmas rush? Marriage changed you so much already? Muffins, say hi to your uncles!”

*Roberta and Chris are too busy having fun and laugh at the ride as Tony drives them around*

Keep reading

So I am still thinking about how Oblo was so sure Yondu would save them before they went out the airlocks (I think this scene and his plea is gonna haunt me), so I figured that they were saved, before, by Yondu when things went south.

And I think it would be just the funniest thing, when someone would actually manage to capture a bunch of Ravagers plus lil’ Peter to sell them – be it for bounty or as slaves – and the Ravagers are, if anything, just really annoyed by the whole ordeal and like 120 % sure that their Captain is gonna show up and help them.

And the bounty hunters just laugh in their faces.

“Ye think one man is enough to fight all of us?”

Tullk snorts, Oblo snickers, and Kraglin rolls his eyes. They are bound and roughened up, but they still have the gal to look like they are saying “Dude, seriously?”

It’s Peter who speaks up, beyond furious because those guys stole his Walkman from him. “Yondu is gonna kick your ass!”

“Yeah, ye tell ‘im, Pete.”

“Aye, an’ that’d be the nicer thing of Capt’n to do.”

“Yer all dead. Ye jus’ ain’t knowin’ it yet.”

The bounty hunters laugh, even though a few start to look nervous, just a bit.

“We’re hundreds of men, an’ ye still believe that Udonta can handle us alone?!”

The Ravagers exchange looks, sticking their heads together to whisper with each other, before they nod and Kraglin looks up, smirking. “Yer all dead.”

Before there is more protest or the hunters can take out their anger on them, there’s a faint whistling, followed by screams and yells and crackling over the comms before the screams abruptly end and the whistling gets louder.

Only the Ravagers are laughing and Peter is cheering as chaos breaks out around them, orders being bellowed from “He’s comin’!” to “Shoot ‘im down, shoot ‘im the fuck down!”.

Because nobody takes something from Yondu Udonta without paying a high price for it.

Wrong Place Wrong Time- The Aftermath (Epilogue 3- OT9)

Do not reuse, edit or copy and of my work(s). ©


Epilogue Chapter to conclude the WPWT Series, enjoy :)

No specific warnings for this epilogue series but I’ll keep the themes as they are just incase.

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭 ,. (☠️- Harm towards characters, Strong language and Adult themes.)

Summary: Life after underground activities. (Conclusions.)

Click for WPWT(1)  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Epilogues: Epilogue 1-BBH  Epilogue 2-KJD  Epilogue 4-KJI  Epilogue 5-DKS  Epilogue 6- PCY  Epilogue 7- KJM  Epilogue 8-KMS  Final Epilogue  Alternative Epilogue- PCY

Word Count: 1,550 (ish)


2 Years later

Yixing had just got off of work and he knew that he had somewhere to be later on but he just had to try it first. Yixing’s current job wasn’t fantastic but it was paying the bills, he worked as a receptionist in an office and his colleagues were nice enough. His well-being had definitely improved after the boys ‘split’. The death of Sehun had hit him hard, but when he had finally learnt how to move on from the worst of the pain his life finally fell back on track. He had tried to meet up with Baekhyun once but their plans had fallen through, so as a result he hadn’t seen anyone since and honestly he felt slightly bad about it.
He stepped out of his car and continued walking down a silent and dark road. He frowned looking at the navigator on his phone as he carried on walking slowly. It looked like a waste land. Rubbish littered the pavement and the street lamps were dim so he couldn’t see properly. He was questioning whether or not he had typed in the right address, but he was sure he had. He was no computer genius but Baekhyun had taught him some basic tracking skills and he was sure he followed them down to every last point. He carried on walking until his phone told him that he had reached his destination. Frowning he looked up, he was stood outside of a rundown house, graffiti decorated the walls and the windows were blacked out, he noticed one was broken as well.  
Yixing had been to a lot of weird places but this place actually gave him the creeps. He took in a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting for a response. He heard movement on the other side of the door and his eyes widened, yet the door still wasn’t opened. He knocked for a second time but louder and again he heard shuffling from the other side, but this time the door opened slowly just by a fraction.

“Who is it?” The voice from the other side whispered. Yixing couldn’t see properly frowning he pushed the door open further so he could see the person properly.
His eyes widened.

“Gen?” Yixing’s heart was beating wildly. It looked like him. Exactly like him, just older.

“I’m sorry…who is it? Your voice seems familiar, I…”
Yixing frowned. Why was he playing dumb? He hadn’t changed that much visually over the years. Surely he should know who it was.

“Gen it’s me. Yixing…your brother. Can’t you recognise me?” His voice became shaky; he was scared that Gen would confirm he didn’t remember. He plucked up the courage to find his brother again ever since Sehun died it couldn’t turn out to be a waste.”

“Yi-Yixing?” The younger boy’s mouth hung open wide in surprise and soon the boys were both crying messes. “Yixing, Oh my goodness where have you been.” Yixing clung on to his brother like his life depended on it, crying into the crook of his neck, he finally had his brother back. His sweet baby brother.

“Gen I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you oh gosh!” He choked on his tears swaying his little brother in his arms.

“Where have you been Xing? You just…left me. You just went and never came back.”
Yixing’s heart sank as he could hear the evident pain in his brother’s voice, his hot tears running down Yixing’s chest. He was doing his best to comfort him but it would take more than a hug to remedy years of heartache and pain.

“Gen I’m so sorry, but I had no choice if I stayed you would have been in danger, I got myself into some type of trouble and… I’m sorry.” He stared into Gen’s eyes and it was weird because it felt as though Gen was staring straight through him, Yixing must have hurt him so much that an emotional void was left behind.

“Gen what is this place?…” He looked up at the dilapidated house, it was a complete shamble. “You can’t stay here, this area isn’t safe. Come on follow me.” Yixing turned and hurried off back down the road, since working within the ‘criminal profession’ for so long it had become a habit to walk fast.

“Yixing wait!” Gen called, standing in the same spot. “Where are you?”
Yixing frowned turning round to look at his brother; he didn’t have time for games. He wanted to make another stop tonight.

“Gen hurry up! The cars further down the road.”

“Wait Yixing. I- I can’t see… I’m blind…I can’t see.”

Yixing’s heart stopped as his mouth hung open. Blind? But how? He rushed back up to Gen and took a hold of his hand leading down the road and into the car.

“It’s alright Gen. I’ve got you now, okay?”

Yixing turned his keys in the lock and swung open the door leading his brother inside his small cosy apartment. He flicked on the light switch and led him to the sofa. Gen’s body jolted as he felt something brush past his legs.

“What was that?”

“Ah sorry I forgot to mention, I have a dog. He’s my companion his names Momi, I hope you don’t mind.” He lifted Momi up and placed him on Gen’s lap.

“Of course I don’t, I’ve always liked dogs remember.” He smiled staring blankly ahead looking at nothing in particular. His hands began to aimlessly wander around before he finally reached the back of Momi’s ears and began to massage them.

“Hungry?” Yixing asked, walking over to the fridge in the open-plan kitchen area.

“Uh yeah…I’m starving.” Gen breathed out relaxing back in the sofa. “Your chairs are comfortable I could fall asleep here.”
Yixing laughed as he opened the fridge and threw yesterdays dinner into the microwave. He was shocked at how easily the conversation was flowing, it wasn’t awkward. In fact it felt as though he had never left him at all. He poured a glass of orange juice and waited for the chicken curry to heat up before placing the items on a tray and returning to where Gen sat.

“Momi, down boy.” Yixing clicked as he placed the tray on Gen’s lap and helped him put the cutlery in his hand. Yixing took a seat on the chair opposite from Gen and stared at him with a broad smile on his face.

“Wow.” Gen shoveled the food in his mouth, just about allowing himself to breathe. “You made this?”

“Yeah.” Yixing smiled thinking of Junmyeon. “A friend taught me.” He paused for a moment, wondering whether or not the next question he was about to ask was too sensitive.
“Gen how did you end up in that house?”

Gen sighed, turning his head in the direction of Yixing’s voice.

“Well dad died…”
Yixing’s heart stopped. He didn’t know. He struggled hard to stop the tears from falling but it didn’t work. It was truly just him and Gen.

“Shit.” Yixing whispered. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for it all…” He swallowed hard in order to calm himself down.

“Well yeah that happened, but I couldn’t get a job because… I can’t see and so I had to make money somehow. I’d charge people to let them hide drugs and weapons in my house. It’s the best I could do.”
Yixing’s heart shattered at Gen’s story. He was such a good kid, he didn’t deserve it. Maybe if Yixing was there that would never have happened.

“Gen…How did you…lose your sight?”
His brother paused swallowing his food down and held his cutlery still.

“Those men that…mum…there was acid spray and…” He began crying.

“Oh shit Gen its okay, its okay. I’m sorry” He ran up to his brother and hugged his head into his chest, kissing the top of it. “It’s okay we don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready, okay?” He bent down so that he was eye-level with Gen even though he couldn’t see him.

“Listen Gen. I’m here now and that’s all that matters, we’re going to move forward together. This is your new home now okay. It’s me and you from now on don’t you worry. I’ll look after you and I’ll protect you. I work and I’m sure we can both survive on my wage, you won’t be living the best life but it’s enough to get us by.” He wiped a tear that was running down Gen’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. Yixing breathed out as he stood up and looked at the clock on his wall.

“Listen Gen, I have to go. There’s somewhere I wanted to make a stop at, I won’t be too long please make yourself comfortable this is your home now okay.”

“Wait, what about your wife? I mean will she be okay with me staying?” Gen bit his lip nervously, looking at where he thought Yixing was standing.

“I don’t have a wife. I have a girlfriend though…she lives half an hour away. We can meet her tomorrow if you’d like?”

Gen nodded his head as Yixing walked towards the front door.

“Oh and Yixing! I missed you… I love you.”

Yixing smiled
“I missed you too Gen and I love you more.”

thoughts on being seen as a straight man

because i pass as a man, people think i’m a straight man when i say that i love women. that makes me feel awful because of two things -

first, i feel like the worst kind of straight no homo guy when i say that i’m not interested in men - even though i’m not even a man. and that in itself is really weird? i have so much shame and internalized lesbophobia around not being into men that i feel homophobic when i say that i’m not into men? it feels so complicated. i need to reflect more on that feeling, but it’s definitely there and it’s not pleasant. i don’t know if other passing butches feel that way? if you do and you have any tips on how to deal with it, let me know.

and second - if people assume i’m a man who loves women, they are going to assume that i love women the way men ~love~ women. and i am extremely uncomfortable with that. i want people to know how much i care for and love women, how i want to protect them from men, how i want to hold them and tell them it’s gonna be ok. i care so much for women, and people assume i’m a straight man. it hurts so bad to know that people see me that way and think about me that way.

people are gonna say i shouldn’t complain about this, because i wanted to go on T and i wanted to pass. yeah, it’s true i wanted to go on T, and i still want to be on T (although that’s complicated as well). but the problem is not me. the problem is not me wanting to “look like a man” and ease my dysphoria. the problem is people not knowing that there are lesbians who do “look like men”. and that’s why we, as butches on T, need so much more visibility. i was involved in LGBT spaces for 5 years before i even learned about butches on T. that’s not normal. we need to be visible.

the worst being, obviously, that other lesbians i meet in public spaces don’t know i’m a lesbian. and that’s what hurts me the most.