Why Is It Not More Wellknown That Women Can Have An Actual Literal Disorder That Not Rarely Makes Them

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I've been on Tumblr for years, but my husband knows my main account so I started this side account.

I've seen Tumblr move mountains for people so I'm hoping and praying that you guys can move mountains for me.

I'm 26 years old. I've been with my husband since I was 16 and he was 20. I know now that he was attracted to me because I was young and manipulatable but at the time I was so flattered that an older college guy wanted to be in a relationship with me.

Looking back there were a lot of red flags. He didn't like any of my friends and he told me who I could hang out with and when. He told me that my school work wasn't important because I was going to be a stay-at-home wife after high school while he went out and earned a living. As teenager living in a household that was unstable and on the brink of collapse, the idea of having a strong man take care of me was very appealing and so I overlooked the red flags.

He liked to get me drunk. He'd take me to his shitty apartment and he would load me up with Mike's Hard Lemonade and Smirnoff Ice and then we'd fool around. I had a lot of pregnancy scares from 16-17 because he didn't like to wear a condom and when I was drinking it was harder for me to insist. When I was 18, I got on the pill at least. He was always pushing my boundaries in the bedroom. I'd say no to something and he'd give me the silent treatment until I let him do it. Or he'd just do it even though I said I didn't want to.

He graduated college the year I graduated high school, and we moved in together. From the beginning, he was controlling, keeping tabs on me and watching the bank account like a hawk, but I chalked it up to needing to be frugal. We were really poor, but he promised to take care of me.

Eventually, though, I had to get a job to make ends meet. He didn't like that. The first time he hit me was when I told him I'd been interviewing for jobs. It wouldn't be the last.

God, just. Ten years I let him tell me I was helpless without him, I was weak, and stupid, and only he would ever love me. I let him hit me. I let him separate me from my friends and family. I let him kick my cat.

But I'm done. I'm going to get me and Midnight out of here.

Two words: Spaghetti Menu

I mean, where’s the lie tho

another one bites the dust :)))))

im so tired

people really measure out their spices? you’re really going to take out your little ¼ teaspoon? you’re afraid your food is going to taste too good?

this was fab af

Do you want to write something for Tom Hiddleston? Maybe where he is jealous? Please and thank you :)

Imagine Tom getting jealous

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Thank you for the request! Hope I did it justice. Sorry it’s a bit on the longer side. The part in italics is a memory.

Irritation grew in your chest as you declined the offer, from the fourth man that night, to go, somewhere, a little more private. Just like all before him, number four, who had been tipsier than the rest, sulked off only to find another girl a few seconds later.

Your irritation did not stem from the fact that none of the men had enough respect to talk to you before they took you to bed, it was the fact that your boyfriend did not seem to mind these men who were trying to take his girl away.

Tom’s blue eyes burned into you, he sat 3 stools away, able to hear every last word the men had appallingly mumbled to you as if they were charming, and yet he didn’t even flinch once.

You downed the rest of your third drink, each man except number four had offered and looked over to Tom. Your eyes met his right away, due to the fact that they had been on you all night, and he gave you a small smile.

In his hand, he held a whiskey that he had been nursing since you had gotten your martini, from number one, and he lazily took a sip but never broke eye contact.

You got up out of your chair and headed three seats over to where Tom was sat, for a second you made eye contact with bachelor number 2; he looked at you as if asking if you had changed your mind, but you ignored him.

The second you got close to Tom you could smell his strong cologne, the one you had bought him for Christmas, the one he knew made you weak, and you almost admitted defeat right then and there, but you had a game to win.

“Realizing that you were wrong? Did I win?” Tom asked, thick British accent piercing through you, one eyebrow quirked upward.

You mustered up a laugh, but it was weak, the cologne was really getting to you; Tom was way more attractive than all of the men you had talked to tonight.

“Jealous yet,” you asked, hoping he was, you were growing tired of men that weren’t him.

“Why? Should I be?.” He asked with a growing smirk.

You rolled your eyes, the feeling of irritation finding it’s way back inside your chest. How were you going to beat Tom Hiddleston?

“I don’t get jealous love,” Tom whispered in your ear. “Sure you do,” you attempted to counter, but deep down knew his statement was true. A deep chuckle left his soft lips, and you blushed at how easily he pushed away your idea. “You on the other hand sweetheart,” gently Tom placed a soft kiss on your temple. You rolled your eyes and shoved the British actor away from you. Yes, it was true, you had a tendency to be the jealous type, but could you really blame yourself, you were dating the Tom Hiddleston, the most charming man in the world. Just the way he talked seemed flirtatious; all the time he would say to other women, “you look, lovely darling,” and they would swoon and blush, causing waves of jealousy to surge through your body; deep down you knew he wasn’t truly flirting but with his charming nature and accent, it always felt like it. Tom could say “you look like shit,” and you’d probably still blush and thank him. “Fine, I’ll make you a deal.” Tom’s right eyebrow shot up in interest and you took that as a signal to go on. “Tomorrow night, we go out to a bar.” He nodded his head in understanding so far. I try to make you jealous when the clock hits...” “Midnight,” Tom cut in. You hid your smile, he was such a classic. “Okay, midnight, if I’ve made you jealous I win and if I don’t, which won’t happen, you win.” Tom took a minute pondering the thought, but you knew he had already taken the bait; he always loved a little completion. “Deal,” he said sticking out his hand. You took it, trying to ignore the bolt of electricity that went through your fingers at his touch. “And when I win what do I get? He asked. “Winner's choice. If you win,” you added, giving him a pointed look. “Game on,” he replied, leaning down to kiss your hand.

It was now 11:45 and you still had gotten no reaction from Tom, after just turning down bachelor number six.

You walked back over to Tom, wobbling slightly as number five had been so kind as to offer you a shot, and sat in the stool next to him.

“It’s okay to give up, love. You only have 15 minutes anyway. You tried, I just don’t get jealous,” Tom said squeezing your shoulder as if he was actually sympathetic.

The way he was acting as if he had already one made you hunger for victory; you had 15 minutes left, it was over quite yet.

“No, I can still win,” you said through a clenched jaw.

“I can’t deny I like your determination. Alright, you sit back at your stool and wait for guy number seven, I’ll be right here.” Tom said in a taunting tone.

You stuck your tongue out at him, thinking of no better response at the moment.

“And love, I promise I think you won’t mind what I choose as my prize that much, he said cheekily, winking at you.

You huffed as you checked your clock, 11:50, you had waisted too much time hearing Tom gloat you were fed up.

Your eyes locked on a guy who was fairly attractive and had been staring at you all night. Tom followed your gaze to the man on the man.

“You think if you eye him enough he’ll come over,” Tom said taking another sip of the whiskey he had yet to finish.

You grabbed the whiskey out of Tom’s hand and downed the rest of it, trying you best not to gag.

“I’m going to him,” you said, trying your best to exude confidence. You looked over to Tom and for once this whole night he seemed put off, his fist was clenched and his usual light blue eyes turned darker.

“Unless you are too jealous,” you said, trying to get under his thick skin as best you could.

Again you could tell that you had gotten a reaction out of him as his cheeks flushed and he shifted uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to say something but you walked away before he got it out. He had messed with you all night, he was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

You walked over to the other guy, making sure to make eye contact with Tom from time to time, who still seemed to be having an internal battle. Finally, the man offered you a drink. You felt confident that this time whatever lucky number seven mumbled to you would really drive Tom crazy.

As you walked to the bar with number seven you checked the clock, 11:57, you had to get Tom to admit it.

One second you were a few steps behind seven and the next you were, kind of roughly, being ripped away by strong arms.

You didn’t even need to look up, the smell of cologne and the way he touched you was enough. “Tommy,” you said cheerily. “Did you see my date?”

“You win,” he growled in your ear, his grip on your arm tightening.

The words didn’t even resonate, you had truly expected to lose.

“Hey, man get off her!” A voice called.

Uh oh, lucky number seven wasn’t seeming so lucky now that you had won.

“Oh don’t start with me,” Tom snarled.

He walked up to the man who towered over him, yet Tom still looked more menacing.

“Or what,” seven asked getting closer.

“Back off. How dull are you anyway? You couldn’t have assumed a girl like this was single. Could you?” You blushed at Tom’s compliment, you had never seen him like this before.

“Well then why is she so handsy.”

If number seven was going to say anything else it was cut short by Tom’s fist hitting his jaw.

“Let’s go, Tom mumbled darkly, grabbing your hand and pulling you to some random room in the bar.

“Tom,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, he mumbled, rubbing his bruising knuckles.

A smile broke out onto your face. “Are you kidding, seeing you jealous was my prize, and you sure got jealous. And I was thinking since you stood up for me so well, maybe you could have a prize too,” you said with a smirk.

A grin was now forming on Tom’s face as he pulled you closer to him; his cologne the strongest it had been that night.

“I guess we’ll all be winners tonight,” he said in between kisses on your neck.

And for the first time that night you let a guy take you someone where a little more private.

@the-haven-of-fiction wait, so you telling me HE’S NOT?????

April 11, 2012: El Capitan Theater, Los Angeles CA [x][x]

I remember seeing them perform this live on my campus.. My jaw dropped within 10 seconds.

this is ugghhh, I can’t even

Loyalty (Part Three - Soulmate!Loki)

Pairing: Loki x Reader, Soulmates AU

Word count: 11.1k but this is broken into significantly more scenes than last time.

Warnings: In no particular order this chapter includes the following: Depression, Major character death, Angst, and Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

Summary: Soulmates were a gift to Asgard from the goddess Frigga, but Loki was starting to think they might be a curse. 

Notes: Well this is the end! Unfortunately, I didn’t get to edit this as thoroughly as I like. But Thanks for sticking around to see it! I hope you enjoy this story. Please take the time to let me know what you think of this series, and this final chapter! 

There will soon be a spin off of Loyalty, set in the same Soulmate Universe. This will be a spin off not a sequel and will not require reading Loyalty, but reading it will be encouraged. And while it won’t follow this Reader x Loki, they will both be featured as characters in the story (with the Reader of this story given a name in that one to allow that spin off to also be a reader insert fanfiction). So, if you’d like to see more Marvel Soulmate AUs, more of this universe, or more of this Loki and his Soulmate Reader, please let me know in an ask or reblog/reply of this post to add you to the Taglist for my upcoming story, working title “Longing”. 

Start From the Beginning… Part One Previously On… Part Two

(Y/n) stood, arm-in-arm with Freyja, at the entrance to Asgard’s feasting hall. She wasn’t sure if her fears should be heightened or crushed by walking with Freyja. There was the advantage that Freyja unintentionally drew a great deal of attention. No eyes, save perhaps (Y/n)’s family, would be on her. The disadvantage was the obvious. How did anyone compare when walking next to the Goddess of Beauty herself. 

“Relax.” What should have been a comforting word came out as an order from Freyja. “Your family is here, and you will only be sat beside them, Loki, and myself. 

“I still have to get to the seat.” (Y/n) murmured to herself more than her companion.

Freyja rolled her eyes. “You think I would let you fall? You’re liable to take me down with you if you do, and I simply wouldn’t allow for that.” 

“How reassuring.”

Freyja nodded to the guards, and the pair of men pushed the doors open for their entrance. 

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