Is Any of This Real or Not?

SOURCE: broom broom

my mom was 17 and my dad was 27 when they got together and they’re still together now after almost 40 years and they love their life and raised me and my sister in the best way ever!

and my whole life my parents told me that my mom was very mature and my dad even says that he never felt as sure of a relationship, he knew he could trust my mom and he asked her for advice and he treated her with the utmost respect. mom always says they were deeply in love and she had never wanted ANYONE before my dad but he just stole her heart since they were so in harmony together.

no

no 

nonononono oh my fucking god

no

For starters, I’m happy your mom and dad and you and your sister are happy, that’s fantastic, I’m glad it worked out.

but this is seriously fucked up

GROWN-ASS MEN. SHOULD NOT. BE ATTRACTED. TO TEENAGERS. NO. NO. NO.

I’m a 17 year old dude and I physically can not be attracted to someone more than a year younger than me, because they are immature, they just are, no matter how ‘mature’ they are, they. are. fucking. CHILDREN. I AM A CHILD. I have changed so, so much since just last year, and I know I will change even more this year. Teenagers ARE CHILDREN. They are STILL going through puberty, they are still growing, their minds are NOT adult yet. Even if they are 18, they’re still trying to find their way in the world and their brains STILL AREN’T MATURED. You ask ANY 30+ year old about their 18 year old selves and 99% of them will say how naive they were or how they wouldn’t make the same choices they made then, now.

The fact that your mom ACTED mature as a kid and had her head screwed on straight is great, but that makes it even worse to think that she could handle that kind of relationship. That’s like saying the 12 year olds that are super precocious and intelligent are ready for a relationship, just because they’re ~so mature.~

What if she was 16. What if she was 15. What if she was 14. What if, what if. She’s still mature for her age, right? What makes those ages any less okay?

NO 27 YEAR OLD GUY SHOULD BE ATTRACTED TO A FUCKING MINOR. NO 27 YEAR OLD GUY SHOULD WANT TO DATE A MINOR. NO 27 YEAR OLD GUY SHOULD ACT ON THOSE URGES. BECAUSE YOUNG GIRLS ARE RAISED TO BE INSECURE AND HAVING A MATURE MAN TELL THEM THAT THEY’RE DESIRABLE IS A HUGE CONFIDENCE BOOST AND IS MANIPULATION WHETHER THEY KNOW IT OR NOT.

It is an adult’s RESPONSIBILITY to say no. If a minor likes them, or if they happen to develop feelings, even if they shouldn’t. Just don’t act on them. It is very, very easily to not act on feelings. It is your job to not be a creep and take advantage of a naive child.

IT IS NEVER OKAY FOR ANYONE TO DATE/COURT/INTERACT WITH A MINOR IN ANY SEXUAL OR ROMANTIC WAY. EVEN IF THEY HAVE ~NO BAD INTENTIONS.~ IT’S MANIPULATIVE AND A BIG SHIFT OF POWER EVEN IF IT’S ~EVEN~ AND IT’S SO SO SO CREEPY.

PLEASE DON’T PUT THIS OUT THERE FOR YOUNG GIRLS, OR BOYS, OR NON-BINARY KIDS TO SEE.

My dad didn’t want to get into a relationship with an adult, and made an exception for my step mother because she was “so mature”. He wanted a teen. Specifically a teen. He only dated teens. So he could raise them into the wife he wanted. It was totally calculated.

This is why they’re still together this day. She dress like he wants, lost weight like he wanted, She became as racist and conservative as him. She does all the houses chores, sometimes even late at night, while he watches tv, like he wanted, and then tells everyone around him she’s a clean freak and makes fun of her. He forced her to get an abortion, for a child she wanted. She still talks about it. She never forgot, never forgave him. And still, she stayed. Because she has no prior experience, and has no idea how bad their relationship is.

When an adult say that a teen is “mature” enough for a realtionship with him, he means she’s submissive. He means she listens to him and is easily convinced by his opinion. He means she’s calm and easy to deal with. 

I thought I grew up in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people. Everyone said good morning to each other in the morning, my mom was friends with our neighbors, and we all went to church together. In my young mind, that made us very good people.

Then Daffodil came to town and turned my world upside down.

Height Difference

@chachacharlieco Your wish is my command! Plus this was too good to pass up :D

Baiting you into the bold? Now, why would I do that?

No, the pointed ears are still there. So are the just slightly sharper teeth in their hopeful smiles. In fact, they look exactly the way they do in the stories. Right down to the emerald green eyes.

“Excuse me,” he says, nervously clearing his throat. “Could you go over that for me one more time?”

“Certainly! We would like to apply to be foster parents.”

“Right…” The social worker looks anxiously from one of the couple to the other. “But…but you’re fae.” He really doesn’t know a way to be delicate about this fact.

“Oh you noticed!” the one on the right says. (The couple introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Peters, but he doesn’t remember who was who and as far as he is concerned their appearance gives him no clue whatsoever.)

“Well, yes,” he says uncomfortably. “And this being the case, I did wonder…”

The Mx. Peters (surely that can’t be their real name) on the left nods understandingly. “Of course, it’s quite alright, we do understand. But you see, the whole changeling thing doesn’t really appeal to us at all.”

“Taking care of a human child sounds wonderful!” their partner smiles brightly. “And we have plenty of room to love one or two more! But we simply refuse to give ours away, and that is regrettably a big part of the changeling business.”

“Your children?” the social worker blinks.

“Yes,” the parents beam proudly. “Two of them,” one of them adds. “A wee one of barely four summers and our eldest, who is nearly eight.”

The other smiles enthusiastically. “It is preferred for foster parents, is it not, to already have children of one’s own?”

The social worker pulls himself together. “Yes,” he says. “Yes it is.” Parents are parents, aren’t they? And if he forgets about the teeth, and the ears, and the intangible feeling that his carpet might start sprouting daisies, these two are giving off practically nothing but parent vibes.

“So you’ll consider us for the programme?”

He nods. “Yes, certainly, I will. Just—” He clears his throat. “We will need to visit your home fist, to verify your circumstances.”

“Of course!” the parent on the left agrees.

“That should be quite alright as longs as we remember not to offer refreshments,” their partner nods.

The social worker nods along and silently scribbles a discrete little note on their file. He is going to have to have a talk with his supervisor about this. And another thing—

“I will need your full legal names for the forms,” he says, looking up.

The two fae meet his eyes with silent stares.

He swallows. “…a legal name for the forms?”

And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.

“So, you’re a politician…” “Well, yes, is that a problem?” “Oh no, no problem. But we’ve recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you’re free to choose where you want to spend eternity!”

“Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??” says the politician. “Them’s the rules” Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears… And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he’s in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can’t be right?

“Open your eyes!” says a voice. “C'mon, wakey wakey, we’ve only got 24 hours!”. Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he’s in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there’s a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. “Who are you??” The politician asks. “Well, I’m Satan!” says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. “Welcome to Hell!” “Wait, this is Hell? But… Where’s all the pain and suffering?” he asks. Satan throws him a wink. “Oh, we’ve been a bit mis-represented over the years, it’s a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there’s extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It’s a beautiful day, and if you’d care to look outside…” Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. “It’s one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there’s another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!” says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he’s admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he’s admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… And is woken up by St Peter. “So, that was Hell. Wasn’t what you were expecting, I bet?” “No sir!” says the man. “So then” says St Peter “you can make your choice. It’s Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on”. “Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I’d prefer Hell” says the politician. “Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!” Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.

The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. “What’s this??” He cries. “Where’s the hotel?? Where’s my wife??? Where’s the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???”

Thousands of protestors singing “Do You Hear The People Sing” in a Hong Kong international airport. This is part of a 3-day sit-in and is only one example of the many marches, rallies, and sit-ins that are occurring daily.

Hong Kong’s huge protests, explained by Vox.

I need help. My apartment has been infested by bedbugs, and we have been forced to essentially move out so it can be treated or be evicted, and have to use a service that costs thousands of dollars per day. We have barely been scraping that together by borrowing money from my grandmother, but as a result any remaining funds for things such as food over the next while are minimal. We are a family of three adults and three cats that we also have to take care of.

My parents don’t want me to know, but I’ve heard my mother crying multiple times over the last week. Prior to this I had only heard her cry maybe twice in my life. I already think things are dire, but I suspect they may be worse than I know. So please, if you have anything to give, even a couple bucks, please send it to paypal.me/odelta If you don’t, I understand, in which case a reblog would be much appreciated.

If you do give, however, I am proficient with photoshop, and would be more than happy to make you something if you message me what you want.

“There’s a hippogriff right there, Hagrid.”

“A different hipprogriff.”

“I’m… pretty sure that’s the same hipprogriff.”

You’ve got this world full of people who can destroy whole buildings or turn people into beetles or make vehicles fly just by waving a stick at them

And there is literally no common sense

Anywhere to be found

The Minister would NEVER EVER disbelieve in Gerald White. He’d buy it hook line and sinker. The wizarding world would buy it hook line and sinker. The GOBLINS wouldn’t but wizards have been shown to be pretty blindingly clueless. Still, Gringotts would grudgingly give Sirius access to the Black fortune.

But, but, but, you know the one person

the one person

who Gerald White would drive AB-SO-LUTELY FUCKING BATSHIT?

Severus Snape.

Snape would do everything, EVERYTHING, to get people to believe that it’s Sirius. But the Order would ignore it (they accepted Sirius as Sirius before anyway) and Remus would just be so… so affronted.

‘Severus, he is my cousin.’

And Sirius would love it. He’d love the fact that Snape just hated it. He’d be the BEST DAMN GERALD WHITE EVER b/c Snape is doing everything from dropping veritaserum into his firewhisky to capturing a dementor in a box and releasing it on Sirius when he least expects it

That one causes problems for a bare minute because SHIT A DEMENTOR ATTEMPTED TO GIVE GERALD THE KISS MAYBE SNAPE IS RIGHT except Harry comes forward and is like ‘excuse me, I’ve never committed a crime and dementors are ALWAYS attacking me, I think they’re attracted to glasses’

and the magical community is like ‘shit, yeah, you’re right’

and just

‘HE’S A BIG BLACK DOG! A DOG - THAT IS BLACK. SIRIUS BLACK. BLACK DOG DOG BLACK.’

And Remus calmly says: “That’s absurd, Severus. Sirius Black was never an animagus and besides which, people’s names don’t have any influence over their animagus forms or anything like that. That’s ridiculous.”

And Snape yells: “Shut it WEREWOLF MCWEREWOLF!”

Everyone looks at Remus, who blinks and sighs as Gerald White turns back into his human form.