#then if they sTILL dont give any feedback then well fuck writing the song for this is gonna be a fucking nightmare

[thewhizzyhead]

honestly dudes screw groupmates that don't reply or give feedback or such esp when you ask for feedback for a task that none of you know how to fucking do esp when the teacher didn't give instructions in the first fucking place like aaa guys neither of us know how to do this shit so tHE LEAST WE CAN DO IS TO HELP EACH OTHER BUT NOoOOOoO I GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO SIMPLY PRAY THAT WHATEVER THE FUCK I'M DOING FOR THIS FUCKING GROUPWORK IS FUCKING RIGHT I GUESS-

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #i hate it here #like WE WERE DOING SO WELL WHY ARENT YOU GUYS REPLYING NOWWW #AAAAAAAAAA #screw it im making the scriot tomorrow #for the vid proj stuffs #then if they sTILL dont give any feedback then well fuck writing the song for this is gonna be a fucking nightmare #i just aaaaa #it makes me anxious #like guys i need affirmation i need to know if whatever im doing for this fucking group proj is right or not and if y'all r okay with it #but nope wah no feedback whatsofuckingever #hell it made me had an anxiety attack a while ago and um yup those are very fucking fun #doing groupworks in an online learning setting sucks #aaa #will delete wah i just needed to vent and shit #the anxiety attack sucked and sensory overload sucked even more so um yea fuck this #anxiety attack tw #personal shit #tag correction: hell it made me have an anxiety attack #oki ngl i kinda feel like at any moment en the anxiety will just come flooding in and boom anxiety attack #despite me trying my best to distract myself with minecraft vids so ummm #yea the ask box now accepts fun distractions or anything really aaaaa #fuck anxiety

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door. 

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door. 

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there. 

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon. 

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa. 

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!” 

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away. 

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address. 

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door. 

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms. 

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?” 

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops. 

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped. 

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well? 

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation. 

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords. 

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped. 

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy. 

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop. 

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines. 

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago. 

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you. 

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down. 

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still. 

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him. 

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move. 

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again. 

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath. 

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well. 

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out. 

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch. 

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[yournewapartment]

YNA, I need help or advice or something: there's this video going around Facebook, that my cousin just sent me, from a woc who is saying that "racially motivated police brutality is a myth" and I'm so angry like how can she say that? "White men are more likely to be killed by cops," "cops are more likely to be killed by black men," and crap like that. I dont believe any of it but how do I prove to my cousin it's bs? The woman was citing figures and yelling "look it up!!" Was she bluffing?

I recently listened to a wonderful podcast from In The Dark about the case of Curtis Flowers, a POC who had to endure an unprecedented number of murder trails in Mississippi for a mass murder he did not commit. The prosecutor on the case, an asshole named Doug Evans, was a racist, and tried the case six times. There is only one other case in all of United States history, to have been tried even close to this many times. One other case! Curtis’ case kept getting overturned because his defense team was able to prove time and time again, that Evans and his team were racists. They used their legal power in the courtroom to strike as many black people from the jury pool as possible. Out of the six trials (think 12 jurors and 3 alternates), I believe only eight POC made it onto the jury. That’s 8 out of 90 possible! My memory might not be 100% correct, but you get the point. 

It’s a wonderful podcast and I highly recommend you listen if you’re interested in true crime. BUT, my point...

During several of the trials, Mr. Evans used jail-house informants who were POC. All of them have since recanted their testimony and have said that Evans paid them to testify or helped them get lesser prison sentences. But this is after the fact. In the Dark investigators interviewed different jurors who sat on different juries (the jail house informants were used at almost every trial). Many of the white jurors said that they gave the jailhouse informants more credence than they normally would have, because they were POC. They said that they did not think that POC would turn on other POC if it wasn’t for a good reason. Which is, my friends.... wait for it... just another form of racism against POC! 

The few black jurors that made it to juries did not give the jailhouse informants more credence at all. Several even said that they found the jail house informants very untrustworthy and unreliable. Because the court literally tells you: “Hey, these are jail house informants, you have to take their testimony with a grain of salt.”

I haven’t seen this video and I obviously don’t know the background of it or of the POC on it. But it sounds to me like white people are watching this video and thinking: “Well, this is a POC saying these things, so this video has to be an honest take on the situation.” It’s sounding like they’re giving this video more weight and importance than they would a video of a white person saying the same exact things. 

Which is... racism! 

Racism is not always brutality and violence, thought it often times is. 

Racism can be your white grandmother saying: “I don’t have a problem with black people, their music is just too loud.” 

It can be your friend saying the n-word when she’s singing along to a Kendrick Lamar song: “He said it first, so why can’t I say it?” 

It can be a co-worker assuming a POC co-worker speaks a different language based on their skin color. 

It can even be you! If I’m walking around at night by myself, and I see a group of black men hanging out in a park, doing their own thing, why am I uneasy? I have to ask myself- if this were a group of white men, would I still feel uneasy? Why do I feel this way? Do I carry inherent racism with me as a white person, just based on the way I react with society as a white woman? 

Guys- I definitely do! And if you’re a white person reading this, I bet you do too. My parents are die-hard liberals who have always touted equal rights for everyone. In my education, I never had a teacher spout openly racist view points or try to “brain wash me” into being racist. It was a default. A default, because every interaction I’ve had with everyone I’ve ever met, has in some part been a judgment based on my appearance. It’s not a conscious thing, it’s what we as humans do, we take in our surroundings. Living life as a white woman has granted me invisible privileges that POC do not share. 

And... that’s a hard pill to swallow. I’m sure that I’ll get comments on this post and asks in my inbox with angry white people criticizing what I’ve just said. Because nobody wants to be called a racist! White people who spend their whole lives with POC, who have never intentionally said anything negative about POC, do not want to hear that they were essentially born into racism. Fam, I didn’t want to hear it either! But it is not enough to “not be a racist”. We’ve come too far as a species to sit back idly and occasionally tweet “Black Lives Matter” and congratulate ourselves for the effort. As a white person with my rights and privileges, it is my duty to society to be actively “anti-racist”. 

It is my duty to educate myself. It is my duty to stand with POC. To amplify POC’s voices. To listen when POC talk. And most importantly- to not make it about myself! Which I have in this post, I know. But as semi-popular blogger who is white, I feel that I needed to write this out to help other white people.  White people- get angry! Be the change you wish to see in the world. Step up and do what you can to support POC. 

I know I’ve somewhat indirectly answered your question, so more to the point. I don’t know who this POC is in the video. But on a very basic level, I know that you know, that what the woman in the video is saying is not the truth. It’s been proven time and time again that POC (particularly black POC), have been murdered by the systemic racism of our justice system. Just scroll back on my blog and check out the posts I reblogged #blacklivesmatter for more specific details. This is not to say that the justice system magically works 100% if you’re white, it clearly doesn’t. But as a white person, you have a much better chance of getting a fair shake of things. Whether that’s being pulled over by a cop, being arrested, or even getting an impartial jury. These are basic human rights that we should all enjoy! 

Anyone can hop on the internet, record a shitty video, and act like it’s the truth. I can record a video stating that I’m an FBI agent who has been hunting serial killers using the nanotechnology of gusher candies, but nobody is going to fucking believe me. Every video on the internet needs to be treated with scrutiny, and frankly, your cousin is a fool if she’s willing to end her education on racism just because she watched one video with a POC condemning it.

In this case, I would message your cousin the following resources on racism and police statistics so that she can educate herself. There are countless articles all over the internet:

https://mappingpoliceviolence.org/

https://www.citylab.com/equity/2019/08/police-officer-shootings-gun-violence-racial-bias-crime-data/595528/

Also important resources:

https://blacklivesmatter.com/

https://www.aclu.org/

How to be anti-racist: https://weedmaps.com/news/2020/06/where-to-start-being-anti-racist-educate-yourself-with-black-voices/

https://medium.com/wake-up-call/a-detailed-list-of-anti-racism-resources-a34b259a3eea

Check out the case of Curtis Flowers on all your favorite podcast streaming services: https://www.apmreports.org/in-the-dark/season-two/curtis-flowers-updates

I appreciate everyone who read this. I feel a little uneasy posting this if I’m being honest. I am white, this isn’t about my voice. So if you are a POC and have feedback for me, please let me know. I will keep on keeping on, and will do my part to support #blacklivesmatter.

#Anonymous #racism

[diamondcamefromhell]

Dance

Summary: this was a request by @rosasteri [who may as well be dubbed my creative muse bc the request i get from them make me super inspired ]“ hi, can I request Jaskier x reader? jask, geralt and reader stay in tavern. jaskier plays his music, but other bard comes and jaskier decides to take a rest. people start to dance so jaskier offers to reader his hand and trying to convince her to dance. but reader doesn't know how to dance so Jask teaches her “

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,019

A/N: i really dont have anything to say, lmao, for some reason im at a loss for words today - spent most of it writing original story, and now have an this dying rge to read percy jackson, so guess i know what i will do tonight, lol, either way

any and all feedback is appreciated and can be left anonymously on my ask page <3

I heard raindrops outside before Jaskier strung his lute again. I peak out the window to see lighting strike somewhere far away. The tavern, however is dry and safe. A fireplace is lit near me, providing a good bit of warmth. I lean my back against it now, looking at Jask.

His shadows remind me of the monsters Geralt slays, splashed across the floor. The wood creaks beneath his feet, but his music overpowers it as his singing fills the room. I hear Geralt grunt in front of me as he chugs his ale. Our eyes meet, and while he seems annoyed, he also looks happy. He got rid of some noonwraiths today, so we were celebrating. The townsfolk were welcoming to their newly found hero and his sidekicks.

Jaskier prances to our table, as if to check if his friends were paying attention to him. He made it really hard not to. I wink at him, as he offers me a smile, dancing away now. I sip my wine, taking eyes off the bard to look at the witcher. His gaze was glued to the window, but a smile was on his lips. I decided not to bother.

I hear some disturbance come from the entrance, as a man rushes in. He’s wet from the rain, but I doubt he cares about that. From underneath his jacket he pulls out a lute, inspecting it to see if there is any rain damage on it. I see his shoulders relax and the answer is clear.

Jaskier seems to notice a fellow bard too, stopping his lute. He waves the guy in, allowing him to take the honours of entertaining the guests, as he drops next to Geralt.

“I need a break.” He exhales the words, taking his ale and sipping it.

“Oh yes, being a bard is sure tiring.” Geralt teases, as Jask nudges him.

“Try to do it yourself, then.” I smirk at them, twirling the drink in my glass. “Y/N, do you think being a bard is easy?”

“Easier than being a witcher.” I mumble, chuckling. “But sure, it’s not easy.”

“I have to entertain the masses, you know what happens when they aren’t pleased?” Jaskier dramatically throws his hands in the air, looking to Geralt and back to me.

“They throw rocks at you?” I can’t help but let out a laugh and Geralt’s comment, who in response smirks. “Because that’s what some do when they see a witcher. They throw rocks or whatever happens to be at their disposal. One time it was a cat.”

“Oh no.” I say, now fully laughing. I see Jaskier break character too, as he giggles. “Cats hate you, Geralt.”

“Feelings mutual.” He smirks, as I giggle again.

The silence between is comfortable, but soon the rained upon bard fills it. His lute sounds different, not the sounds I’m used to, but it’s still pleasant. His voice now fills the tavern and I steal a glance at Jaskier, to see what he thinks.

From what I can tell, he likes it. His lips are curled in a smile, and he’s nodding along, without realizing it. I relax, glad he’s not getting competitive. Our eyes meet and he sticks his tongue out.

“I wont try to overplay him.” He says, as I smirk.

“Not again.” Geralt corrects the bard, who flushes red, downing his drink.

“Shut up.” He practically gargles at us.

I laugh. One time at a similar evening, another bard came in and Jaskier wasn’t happy about it. He also wasn’t on his first ale. Or his fifth, for that matter. So he tried to overplay the other guy, and things went wrong faster than Geralt and I could grasp. Our good friend was trying so hard, he danced into a pillar, breaking his lute in half, and then crying.

We helped him out. After we stopped laughing.

I see people spring to their feet now, as the empty space is filling up with patrons, dancing. Couples and friends alike start to move. In turn, bard makes his melody more cheery. I appreciate that, nudging my head side to side in beat.

“Y/N! Let’s dance!” Jaskier yells suddenly, startling me. I stare at the bard, who is already on his feet.

“Jaskier, you know I don’t dance.” I say, as he rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a party pooper and just do it.” He teases as I cross my arms. He grabs my shoulder shaking me.

“I don’t know how to dance!” I argue, and he stops the shaking only to start poking my arm.

“I’ll teach you.” He argues back and I see Geralt raise his eyebrows.

“Teach Y/N how to dance into pillars? Don’t let her embarrass herself like that.” I give witcher a thankful look, but Jaskier is relentless.

“Geralt, fuck off.” He puts his hand right up Geralt’s face, before looking to me again. “Y/N, let’s go!”

“Fine!” I finally give in, as Geralt looks like he is really close to losing his shit and hitting Jask or, gods forbid, his lute. I’d rather avoid another broken-lute-and-cry situation, as funny as it was.

I lazily stand up, and before I can even gain proper footing, Jaskier drags me out. I nearly run into one of the dancers, but at a last second, Jask pulls me out of the way. I glare at the bard who offers me an apologetic smile.

I straighten up, as he starts to step around, dancing. I blankly stare at him, not moving an inch of my body. Jaskier sighs, grabbing my hand and waving it around.

“Loosen up, Y/N.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m dancing. It’s called a statue.” I tease, as Jaskier nudges me, laughing.

“Just step around.” I raise my eyebrows. “Like you really need to use the restroom, but in time with the music.”

“What now?” I laugh, as he rolls his eyes, pulling away.

I try to take his advice the best of my ability, stepping around a little, but timing it with the music. Jaskier grins and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh. I stop, getting embarrassed, once he realizes that, he laughs and hugs me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just your legs, they move, but from waist up you look dead.” He laughs in my ear as my face heats up.

“Well should I just act like I’m dying and shake all around?” He snickers, pulling away. His hand still on my shoulder now slides to my hand.

“Let me lead you.” I press my lips, nodding.

“Sure.” I say, through my teeth.

“Do the leg thing.” I am not sure what he means, so the bard sighs. “The toilet dance.”

“Right.”

I do ‘the leg thing’ as Jask gently moves my arms around. He sees that I am not showing much, if any, restraint, so he grows more confident and bold in his moves. I feel like a ragdoll, dragged around, and he starts spinning.

Until I trip, falling and getting under his feet. He crashes on top of me, and I swear I hear Geralt laugh.

“I can’t breathe!” I grunt, as I feel Jaskier vibrate on top of me. It takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing. I try to push him, but the bard just won’t budge. “Jaskier, for the love of god!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, finally lifting himself off me. I glare at him as he extends his arm to me, helping me up. He breaks out into laughter yet again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I say, cleaning my dress with my hands. I feel my cheeks heat up as I see people snickering looking our way.

“Like you hate me.” He pokes my cheek, removing his hand before I can punch it away.

“But I do.” I respond, as the bard ends his song. People cheer for him, as Jaskier and I stare at each other. I struggle to keep a straight face, breaking into a smile. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Jaskier purrs, winking at me, before the bard plays another song, and he starts dancing around.

I don’t wait for him to drag me around again, and I start moving. I do the toilet dance, not forgetting my upper body this time. Jaskier looks me up and down, smiling. The tune pics up in speed, and I struggle to keep up, scared of tripping.

“Don’t be so scared.” I hear the familiar voice, as if he just read my mind. I give a quick glare at the bard, before focusing back to my feet. “You’re thinking too much.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be falling too much.” I hiss, still not lifting my eyes, until his hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Just look at me or close your eyes, and listen to the music.” He does a twist, grinning. “Let the music carry you.”

“I’m not a musician, Jaskier. Music doesn’t carry me.” He beeps my nose in response, an even bigger grin painting across his face.

“Music has a power to carry anyone. You just need to allow it to do it.” He waves me closer to himself, so I lean in. “And the secret is, nobody knows how to dance. That’s why nobody also judges others. We all just… allow ourselves to move.”

I step back, taking a deep breath in. I close my eyes, listening to the fast-cheery tune. I focus on the bards voice, as it wraps around me. I try to let go off my anxiety and fears, letting my body lose. I try not to think of what I’ doing and who may be watching. I follow the notes like my body is the instrument.

It feels freeing, as if some weight has been lifted off my chest.

I open my eyes, expecting to see some judgemental looks, hear some laughter, but just like Jaskier said, nobody was judging me. I even stole a glance at Geralt, who was simply paying no attention to us. I look at the bard, as he gives me an encouraging nod.

The song dramatically slows, and he now steps closer, extending his arm. I never danced with anyone, but Jaskier seemed like a good practise. We were great friends, so if something went wrong, I am less likely to want to dig myself into a hole.

His hand lands on my waist as I put mine on his shoulder. He takes our free hands, lifting it to the side. I know males lead, so I try to do the same thing. Give in to music, and follow the energy, which in this case was my partner. Our eyes meet and his blue ones shine, reflecting the fire. I smile, not even realizing we are, in fact dancing.

“You’re a natural.” He says, gently pushing me so I would turn.

“Maybe you’re a good lead.” He pretends to be surprised, twisting me around.

“Yes, I think that’s it.” He finally agrees, winking, as I let out a giggle. “See, dancing isn’t that bad.”

“I guess so.” I am reluctant to agree, I know he wont let me live this down. “As long as no pillars happen to be in a way.”

“You will never forget it, will you?” He says through his giggle, and I shrug.

“Maybe. But I wont forget this either.” I say, as he gives me a kind smile.

The song ends and I don’t let go off his hand, dragging us back to our table. We sit down and Geralt looks at us.

“You two danced well.” He says and I am taken back, as it is rare to get a compliment from witcher.

“Thanks.” I whisper, looking at the table.

I let go off Jaskiers hand, my heart beating faster. I don’t hear whatever he starts to blabber about, and I notice Geralt look away too. A different song picks up, and I cant stop my feet from dancing under the table.

I look out the window to see the rain has passed. The sky is clearing up.

#jaskier request #jaskier x reader #jaskier fluff #but not really?? #witcher imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier one shot #tagging makes me so tired #after like two tags im so over it #but exposure #i want it #pls

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 54

Title & Song: Whole Wide World

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count:  7400+

Summary: Alfie hunts down Genevieve to tell her how he feels. Instead of finding her on his first attempt, he’s met with a furious Claire who sets him straight. They both look for each other out on the town. Alfie finds her in a way so dramatic it makes Genevieve, our resident drama queen, proud.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Fluff. Romance. Close calls. Will they, won’t they. Go get your girl. 

**Chapter song is Whole Wide World by Wreckless Eric.*

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-53)

His fingers kept gripping and regripping the top of his cane, he stared out the window, a menacing glare on his face as the stone of the city started to fade and the hills of the countryside started to replace it. His mind was going over a million different things that he could say to you. Where to begin? Where to end? Should he just wing it? Should he be light or heavy handed with you? So many questions, none were focused on long enough to get any real answers from himself as each thought led to another question, leaving his eyes wild and unsure as he reaches the driveway of your home. The men at the front had let him in, that was a good sign he thought.

He takes a deep breath, getting out of the car with a grunt, the cold seeming icier in the country to his achy bones. He steadies his breathing with the visible air his nervous heaves leaves in puffs as he walks up to your large wooden and wrought iron door.

He hears the door unlock before he gets to it, he sees Claire's pale and severe face meet his with clear hesitation.

"Alfie?" she says with clear confusion as her eyes narrow.

"'Ello Claire." he says with a heavy breath.

"What are you doing here?" she says, her tone giving him a warning. He felt more nervous than he had about how welcome he would be here.

"May I come in? It's fucking freezing out here." he says with a scrunch of his nose.

She looks him over, and nods, holding the door open for him and shutting it after. She stares him down, mouth in a straight line as she says nothing.

"Is Genevieve home?" he asks with a hopeful quirk of his brow.

"No." she says indifferently.

"Ah. Would you be so kind as to tell me where she's gone?"

"Out." she says flatly, arms still crossed over her chest and tone steady.

"And where might out be?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I need to talk to her."

"Why?"

He pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach this.

"Why now? Why at all? And you can't call like a normal person?" her head moves with attitude.

"I felt suddenly compelled to speak with her so I left and came straight here." he says defensively, brow furrowed with more sadness than anger.

"From where?"

"What with the fuckin' questions Claire?" he says in a higher pitch voice.

"I think after how you've acted the past months I get to ask however many fucking questions I want Solomons." her tone is harsh, her eyes narrowing at him.

He knows she's right. He was getting too excitable. "I left from work."

"So it's work you need to speak to her about?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I'd...I'd rather say it to her."

"I think you can say it to me because I want to know what mess you'll be leaving me with to have to fucking clean up again."

"I didn't mean-"

"I don't know what you meant to do Alfie. But you've not been here. I have. I've had to deal with how much you hurt her. You do know you devastated her when you left right?"

"I..." he wants to defend himself but there's no point. "Yes." he admits, his shoulders slumping.

"Then why the fuck would I tell you where she is? So you can go and hurt her some more?" her voice is fierce and protective over you. "She builds up the courage to put herself back to together, and face you at that meeting and what do you do? You accuse of her being used by someone, you don't apologize and you don't mention the evil you've done?" her arms are out at her sides in anger. "She's very mad at you over that, I'll have you know. And rightfully so! What man acts like that to someone he cares about?"she leans towards him, and he flinches as the rage beams out of her eyes at him and he knew he deserved every bit of it.

"I don't want to hurt her anymore, that's why I'm here. I need to talk to her."

"So you're just going to swoop in out of nowhere and confess your undying love and devotion? Just like that?"

He stutters and his face shows his uncertainty to her forwardness and grand accusations.

"You have no idea the damage you'd done to her do you? You're so fucking thick you have no comprehension of the amount of work she's had to do to get over you leaving.  I can't even say it helped her get over you though, because she's not." she doesn’t sound happy to admit the fact.

"She's not?" his eyes light up with hope and her hard exterior falters only slightly.

"No." she shakes her head and sighs. "She's not." she puts her hands on her hips. "She's well miffed but the poor thing still cares about you despite my opinion on the matter. To say you burst the little love bubble you two had been floating about in would be an understatement."

"Then I must speak with her."

"She's very delicate Alfie...and I swear to God if you hurt her again I'll kill you myself." she almost growls.

"And I'd let you. Because I fuckin' deserve it, yeah? I know that. I've spent the last months hatin’ myself because I knew what I was doin' and I thought I was savin' her by separating myself because I didn't think I was worthy of her."

He sees the thought move around behind her eyes, considering if she believes him or not. "That's why you stopped sleeping with her?"

"Yes! I had this, in hindsight, ridiculous rule of not being with Jewish women. But she turned out to be exactly fuckin' that, yeah? So I ran scared because of my own principles. I see now I was wrong. I can't..." he pauses and takes a deep breath. "I can't believe I'm telling you this..." he rubs the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. "I can't be without her Claire. I fuckin' tried, right?"

He can tell his words were what she needed to hear.

"So please... tell me where she is?" his eyes are wide and honest and she's touched by his transparency.

"What are you going to do, huh? You going to propose? Tell her you love her and always have and always will?" she rolled her eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Well I..." he lets out a stutter of frustration.

"Well dont." she says with a less angry voice. "You'd built her up to believe in such romance in real life but after you left she felt so stupid and lost that if you came at her with that, I love you, marry me, heavy shite you'd overwhelm her." she sighs and frowns.

"I wasn't goinna start with that...no..." he gives a grin and small huff of a laugh.

She cracks a smile. "Just...be gentle. You need to build her back up. Be sweet, be kind, be easy with her. You can't handle a woman like Genevieve roughly. You can't whip her back and forth between heavy emotions and expect her to react in your favor. You can't ignore her for months, then tell her she's acting daft and then tell her you want to be with her." she says with raised brows, taking a step towards him, a finger pointing aggressively at him. "And don't you dare fucking hurt her again!" she barks at him and he knows she means it. "You come back into her life and you fucking stay. You got that? I'll be damned if I'm dealing with a heartbroken Gen again."

"That's the plan. I really do mean that. I shouldn't have left. I plan on starting with an apology."

"That's a good place to start."

"You said she was....heartbroken. She really was?" his voice is softer and full of concern.

Claire purses her lips and glares without true anger behind her eyes. "I had been told you were a smart man Solomons."

He huffs out a laugh at the statement. He felt such the contrary.

"You really think she took care of you and slept in your bed without the thought of sex because she thought you were just friends?" she tilts her head at him, her tone obvious. "Genevieve isn't the best with expressing romantic feelings. Perhaps because she hasn't had them to the extent she does for you before."

He feels elated and guilty but hopeful and he holds it close. "So... will you tell me where she's at?" his mouth hangs open, eyes resembling a puppy's.

She lets out a heavy sigh, looking him up and down as if she's still considering it.  "Okay. Fine" she says with a small smile. ----------

With a newfound sense of self and hope, something it seemed like he'd not felt in years now, he heads back towards town. You could be at two possible places he'd been told. You had an appearance to speak at a gala for an art school and you planned to stop by a fundraising event for one of the charities you'd been working with. You'd been so busy since he left but Claire said doing the new work had seemed to be the only that that made you happy anymore but he was looking forward to changing that.

He tries the art school first, as your appearance had a time frame. He tries to not looked rushed and wild-eyed like he feels, using his broad shoulders and intimidating silhouette to make his way through the crowds. Suddenly every dark-haired woman would be you, his heart thumped away at every glance of them, the possibility of his eyes meeting yours with every turn of their heads. ----- You felt an odd rumbling of nerves within you before you were scheduled to speak. You didn't mind talking to groups of people, getting paid to show up and talk about something you loved was an absolute dream. Your fingers twisted the pendant around your neck, rubbing the Star of David had become a worry stone to you of sorts. It helped you center, remember who you were and how you were doing these things to become the person you wanted to be. But tonight, looking in the mirror of the small room set aside for speakers it was reminding you of Alfie. He would've been such a good mind to have gone over your speech with, he had been so good with words.

That was up until he stopped speaking them to you. You could'nt shake how he'd looked at you, spoken so positively about you to a room full of people, putting himself out there as a full supporter of you. You would've loved it if he could've been with you tonight. You could have invited him but... you didn't know where you stood honestly. His eyes seemed to admit he'd wanted to talk to you all those long, lonely nights. But why he hadn't still confused you. Your face flushes hot with his insinuation that you were letting a man get the better of you and use you. That still made you angry whenever you'd think about it. You longed for the days when all his words had been sweet, when he'd told you you could do anything and you start to feel foolish that you'd ever truly believed him. Perhaps the man you'd been duped by had been him.

"Miss Durand. You're up next." the sharp voice of the curator of the museum the event was being held in breaks you out of your distracting thoughts. You gather yourself and fluff your hair and dress, adjust your chest, center your necklace and move chin high out of the door. ---

"She finished speaking about half an hour ago." a woman with a name tag tells him when he inquires about you. "Lovely speech. Lovely woman as well, a transcription of her speech will be available in the next week to come with the newsletter. Shame you missed her, she's a very passionate speaker." she says with a polite smile.

"It is. Is she still here? Or have you seen her?"

"I have not seen her but she did head back into the museum after her speech."

"Ah. Thank you, luv." he says with a nod and a determined face as he heads into the wandering halls of the museum. ---- The crowd was mostly in the front of the museum where the food and the speakers were so you were left alone thankfully, moving around the impressionist's halls. You let out heavy sighs, your arms crossed as you let the sadness that resides in you show on your face and you're alone in a room of Monet's. You stand in front of the massive paintings of water and flowers and sky. You hope you could paint things to make people feel things in such a way one day, draw this melancholy and a strange calm from people like the beautiful blurred but poignant paintings did for you. You wonder if one day maybe you could have a room full of your paintings on display. Your own little self-indulgent gallery of the things you'd created. They were a lot darker than the Monet subjects but that didn't mean no one could relate to them. But you were very protective over your paintings, maybe one day when you didn't feel so fragile you'd look into it.

You look to your watch, seeing as you'd been standing and daydreaming about a soft and pastel colored world where things didn't hurt so much for too long. ------ "Where would you go?" he mutters to himself, looking at the directional signs. "French? French. Yeah." he nods and heads toward to direction of the French Impressionists exhibit. ---- You stand in the lobby, being thanked and praised for a few moments as you try to get out of the building. You have your cheeks and hands kissed, murmuring thank you's and absolutely to requests to do it again or speak at other locations.

A tall black wide-brimmed hat catches your attention in the crowd, your breath catching and ignoring the doting around you as your eyes grow large, an ice cold tingle down your spine at the thought of him. You stand still, ignoring the words being spoken to you but as the owner of the hat turns you see it's not Alfie. The tingle remains despite seeing it wasn't his usual style of hat. ------- He stands in the empty room of impressionists paintings, he mutters to himself, disgruntled and his face contorting in thought. "Genny...if you aren't in France... where the fuck are you, luv?" he whispers out loud to the large painting of a lily pond. He takes out his pocket watch, seeing he'd been wandering for too long, the night growing too old. Perhaps you'd moved on already. This is where you'd be if you were here. He felt it like the intuition you had, he knew he was close. He returns the watch to his pocket and carries on. ----- You stand outside, your fur coat shielding you from the cold as you wait for your car. You pull the collar up to hide your face, hoping to be able to make a clean getaway. As you see your car pulling up you get a strange little feeling in your stomach. Like butterflies.  You turn back to look behind you, you felt like someone was watching you, your eyes scanning the far away heads of people as they move in the yellow light of the lobby.

"Miss." Joseph says, pulling open your car door.

"Thank you." you say softly, a half smile and a nod as you get into your car. You keep your eyes on the doorways until the people are too small to recognize. It wouldn't surprise you that you're feeling strange. Speaking in public, all the attention and the strange ending with the meeting with Alfie, you had a lot swimming around your head. With most odd feelings you get from time to time, it could be nothing, or it could be absolutely everything. ------- You arrive at the fundraiser and your mood lightens. You feel more comfortable at the Jewish events, people there aren't as clingy and full of an obnoxious and disingenuous amount of praise and you prefer it that way.

You make your way around the room full of things for the silent auction. You decide to place a few bets, a painted vase, a large decorative mezuzah, and a large fur blanket. You sign your name with a sigh to the list for the blanket, your sad little heartbroken self bubbles up from the back of your mind. You wouldn't have to have more blankets if Alfie was still around. You remember the last night you'd spent in bed with him, your face resting on his chest and falling asleep to his heartbeat. You groan out loud, looking around at the other items in the room, you wish there was a listing for a large, handsome Jewish bloke to put a bet on.

In a funny way, you get your wish, but you should've been more specific because this man gave off an annoying air of arrogance as soon as his strong cologne hit your nostrils.

"Perhaps you should have put up a date with you for auction. They would've certainly hit their goal." he says with a trying too hard to be charming smile.

You look up at him, rapidly blinking and making split-second judgments. This was a hard no, pass. You say nothing and hope he either realizes you're not interested or see how inappropriate the statement had been.

"You're Genevie Durand, yes?" he asks with a bow of his head. You look him up and down, giving him nothing but an indifferent stare. "I'm Abe." he holds out his hand, you show your polite tolerance and let him kiss your hand.

"I am Genevieve yes."

"You were scheduled to speak at the museum downtown tonight were you not?"

"I was."

"I saw you in the paper for your award. Beautiful work." he says with a shake of his head.

Thanks. It was the guy I was fucking at the time is what you'd like to say in response.

"I sent you a letter of congratulations for your achievement." he says as if it meant something to you.

"I received so many letters after that article was published, I wouldn't be able to recall." you say with pursed lips. The downside to having to communicate with men outside of your life of crime was you couldn't really call them a cunt and tell them to fuck off.

"Ah. No surprise at all. A woman of your achievements being on the market in a rare gem indeed." he thought he was flattering. On the market? Like a fucking ham or a goose? How this man was single was such a mystery. "I did not see your education listed in the article and by word of mouth I could not find any information about you, where was it you went to school?" he inquires.

"The University of London and then Oxford." you say matter of factly, looking behind him in the crowd.

"Impressive for a woman in this age."

"And you?" you ask with false interest.

"Cambridge, madam." The one school to still let women in, wonderful. "Oxford didn't let many women in, it must be a testament to your great mind that they let you."

That they let you, like education shouldn't be something available to any who wanted it. "Yes, that's why I helped the scholarship programs in London. So those who want to go, can."

"It's a lovely idea. A well-trained mind is such a highly sought after trait in a spouse."

Woah, okay there lad, slow it down, you don't know me. "I find emotional intelligence to be of higher importance." you say back with an unimpressed tone.

"Emotional intelligence?"

"Yes. Being able to understand and empathize. Manners, read social cues, expressing your emotions clearly." you say with your back still straight, and eyes only ghosting over his in a clear show of

"Ah. It's been my experience that most women have found greater comfort in knowing their spouse's achievements are documented and can give them secure lives with their pursuits of knowledge."

"Well..." you sigh. "I'm not every woman you've met am I?" you say with a shrug, a pat to his shoulder and you walk away. You'd played nice long enough, you missed pulling knives out on people.

You find a group of single girls, you infiltrate and they ask much more interesting questions, you sip wine and chat and enjoy yourself separately from the rouge stalking man that tries to catch your attention and pull you from the group.

You turn another away, stating you found the conversation plenty stimulating enough where you were currently when one of them starts to speak again. "I heard Alfie Solomons is here tonight." a dark-haired girl whispers with a wrinkled nose as she giggles into her wine glass. "He never comes to these things." she shakes her head.

Oh fuck. You try to hide the flush in your face as you take another drink.

"Isn't he on the board with you for the blindness charity?" a blue-eyed girl inquires.

"He is." you nod too fast to be keeping your cool.

"What's he like? I've heard so many stories about him." she says with a chuckle.

"Oh he's... you know." you shrug. "Rather polite for the line of work he's in." you spit out quickly with a smile.

"I wonder what it'd be like to be with a gangster. I bet he has so much money." she rolls her eyes in pleasure at the thought.

"Yes, but what he does isn't exactly... Kosher?" one giggles.

"But have you seen the jewelry on the man? Can you imagine what he'd buy his wife?" she adds with raised brows.

You instinctively reach up to hold the pendant he'd bought you between your fingers. "Have any of you seen him here tonight? Or is it just rumor?" you ask.

"I saw him talking to the head of the board earlier." she says dismissively.

"Never kissed a man with a beard before. He looks so unkempt but it sort've adds to the dangerous bit doesn't it?" one laughs and rubs her face.

"Excuse me, ladies." you say politely with a nod and they continue, an outbreak of giggles as you walk back into the crowd. Was him being near what that funny little flock of butterflies in your belly had been trying to tell you? Would you even have that sort of connection with him anymore? ----------------- He enters the building and the murmurs start immediately. As soon as he's spotted he's greeted with loud and enthusiastic welcomes from old rich men who love his money. He never attends these sorts of things, just donates money to various causes. They've never seemed to mind his lack of social appearances, as long as his money kept coming in no one really bothered him or asked much about the rest of his life or how he came into his money. He's polite but short with the varying degrees of welcome as they keep pulling him and his attention away from his purpose for being here tonight.

He sees a group of younger girls around a painting, he figures women, artists, perhaps they'd know if you were here.

"Good evening, pardon me for intruding," he says and clears his throat as they all turn casually and disinterested until they lay eyes on him and realize who he is. "Might I bother any of you to ask if you've seen Miss Genevieve Durand here tonight?" he says gruffly, ignoring the up and down they were giving him.

"I've heard she's here." one nods. "I'd love to talk to her, I haven't seen her myself."

"She did this painting, you know." the tallest says, motioning with her glass of wine to the painting they were surrounding. "She's so refreshing, don't you think?" she asks with a tilt of her head. He recognized the scene, it was the view from your studio window. A landscape in unnatural colors, blurry as if it was looked at through a veil of tears.

"Are you a fan of hers?" one asks, a smirk on her face.

"I am a fan of hers, yes." he states without hesitation and they all grin.

"Oh." they say with knowing smiles.

"Have you seen her?"

"No but another painting of hers is up for auction if you're interested." she shrugs.

"Thank you very much, girls." he says with a polite nod and tight smile as he heads off into the room with all the items.

He stalks around, eyes to the papers as he sees your name listed and he lets out a sigh of relief. Alright, at least he was on the right track. ------- You make the mistake of asking a grouping of older women if they've seen him. They had not, but they certainly seemed interested in you meeting their sons after they found out who you were. You expertly decline and say you're preoccupied at the moment and apologize and leave.

Your eyes continuously scan the crowds as you chew away at some hors-d'oeuvres by the buffet table. You stand with your hip jutted out, chewing your thumbnail in thought as a young girl approaches you.

"You're Geneveive Durand, yes?" she asks sheepishly and politely.

"Yes, love, I am." you say sweetly.

"I'm a big fan of your work, Miss." she says with a big smile.

"Oh thank you so very much." you say with a nod.

"I would love to ask you a hundred annoying questions but I'm afraid someone has been looking for you." she says with a coy smile.

"Excuse you?" you ask with confusion.

"Alfie Solomons," she says with a  nod. "My friends and I were standing around one of your paintings and he asked us if we'd seen you. He seemed distracted so I thought I might do you both a favor and let you know."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I've been looking for him as well." you say with a sigh of relief. "Do you know where he's done."

"I'm afraid I don't but it wasn't that long ago that he asked."

"What's your name?" you ask, putting your hand on her arm.

"It's uh..." she's caught off guard by the attention. "Sarah Weizman, Miss." she says with wide eyes.

"You get in contact with my girl Claire, and I would love to answer all those questions of yours. Just call me up and tell her your name." you say with a charming smile that she returns in full. "You've helped me out Sarah, I owe you." you say with a smirk as you walk away. ----- You both stand tall, eyes searching, hearing that the other was looking for the other from people as you move through crowds in hallways, ballrooms, upstairs and down. You're covered in a thin veil of sweat as you keep circling, missing each other by paces and you both grow weary the longer it goes on.

"He must've gone." you whisper as you stand at the top of the stairs with a worried look on your face. You've been looking for over an hour, easily and you'd worn yourself out.

"Where are you Genny for fuck's sake. I know you're here." he grumbles to himself, opening up doors upstairs to offices.

You jog outside, pushing open the door and the icy air hitting the sweat on your skin and making you shiver. You trot down the stairs to the street, eyes searching every second. You stand between street lights and have a smoke. Something you didn't do often, but your stress level for the occasion seems to warrant it.

"Are you ready to go Miss?" Josephs' voice surprises you and you jump at the sound. He lets out a chuckle. "Didn't mean to frigthen you." he smiles.

"I'm just a bit on edge, sorry Joseph. Alfie is here and I've heard whispers he's looking for me and I can't find him bloody anywhere." you say with a whine.

"Ah. Are we still friendly with Mr. Solomons?" he asks.

"I suppose we are." you say with a shrug.

He takes his pocket watch out and looks at it. "It is awfully late, Miss. He was never one to stay out at these sorts of things long. Perhaps he's retired for the evening?" he says supportively with a shrug. "Maybe he's left a message at home?" he suggests

You let out a cloud of smoke with a groan. Maybe he was right. You'd spent over an hour just looking for him and you'd been here almost three. Alfie hated these sorts of things, he wouldn't stay unless he had to and you weren't sure what he wanted you for or how important it was. Joseph had a point, there would probably be a message if he needed you. You feel a sinking in your gut. Why were you so damned excited to see him anyway?  You couldn't help it though. You had it bad for the man and as much as you hated to admit it you knew it to be true. It had grown to be a simple fact and less a source of pain and anguish that it had been. It was just something you lived with, like a poorly placed mole one might not want. Couldn't do anything about it, so just live with it and carry on. A mild annoyance that would come to the front of your mind when you'd let it.

"You've got a very early morning tomorrow as well. Best not forget that." he says in a fatherly tone.

"You're right. I'll be up before the sun tomorrow." you roll your eyes, stomping out your cigarette and heading towards the car. "Won't be worth a damn to anyone if I haven't slept." you frown. You worry the whole ride home, trying not to bite your nails and you pick at the hem on your coat instead.

When you get home Claire is already asleep along with the rest of the house and you quickly follow suit. You had a full day of traveling tomorrow and lots to look forward to besides him. ---- He's panting and red in the face as he pushes through the large doors to the outside. His feet carry him heavy and defeated down the large stone steps into the dark and cold night.

"No luck?" Ishmael asks, propped against the side of the car.

"Never any fuckin' luck." he grumbles as he slams the car door behind him.

"Might I suggest we go to her home again in the early morning? Not give her a chance to disappear on you?"

"Ya read my fuckin' mind, mate." he says with an annoyed look on his face but a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

He does precisely that. He's up before the sun, giving himself a good scrubbing and putting on the oil you'd given him for his face and beard that he'd secretly taken with him when he'd gone. It'd reminded him far too much of you to use the past weeks but now with reconciliation in sight he could use it and be reminded of you without the pain.

The maid even commented on how he seemed to be much perkier this morning and he agreed. Taking only tea and a biscuit and heading out on his way.

He's primed to knock on the door and Claire answers. "Oh hello Alfie." she yawns, robe pulled to.

"I wanted to come early to speak with her before she had a chance to run. I couldn't catch her last night." he says, starting to take off his coat.

"Well I have a bit of bad news." she says with a frown.

"Oh fuck's sake, what now." his shoulders slump and his face looks exhausted.

"She's not here." she says flatly.

"She... not come home or?" he shrugs.

"She left before dawn. Told me she was off to France." she says with a flopping of her arms.

"France?" he responds with high brows.

"Wouldn't tell me why. Had her trunks and she was off as soon as she told me." she shakes her head.

"You're fucking kidding."

"I wish I was." she says rubbing her face.

"When'd she leave? You know which boat she's taking?" he asks, already moving towards to door. She's actually touched by his persistence.

"I don't. I wish I could be more helpful."

"Eh." he grunts and shrugs. "You tried." he huffs out as he's out the door already.

"Alfie! ALFIE!" he hears before he gets back in his car. Aggie is running as fast as she can towards him.

"What is it luv?" he asks, eyes wide.

"She's gone to Paris." she pants out.

"Calm down there Agatha, now." he says with a smile, hands on her shoulders.

"She's going for a wedding. Claire absolutely hates the girl so she didn't tell her where she was going." she huffs and catches her breath. "I don't know which boat she's taking or when it departs but I'll be damned if I'm going to not tell you something to help you find her. It's been hellish at times without you here." she says with wide eyes. "She misses you so much." she says with sad eyes.

"And I've missed her more." he says with a charming smile that makes her heart race.

"Are you finally going to make this old woman's dreams come true?" she says with a chuckle.

"If she'll let me yes." he grins.  She surprisingly hugs him and he lets out a loud laugh. "Oh Agatha, ya nutter." he booms as he hugs her back.

"I've been waiting for thirty years for this, call me what you want!" she laughs, pulling away and wiping a tear from her eye. "GO! Go on and make the two of us the happiest women in Britain today!" she exclaims and pushes him in the car.

"Yes ma'am." he says with a grin, shutting the door and watching her clutch her chest with relief as he drives off to the docks. ----- He uses his name and throws money around haphazardly to get through the lines and get information on the boats departing. There is one to France and he buys a ticket and prays for the first time since before the war that he can get there in time. ------ You're leaning on the railing, looking at the happy people waving goodbye next to you. You smile at the beaming faces, the lovely words being shouted back and forth between families and lovers as the boat breaks away from land. You sigh and smile lazily, happy to be on your way to Paris.

You see a large dark figure parting the crowd almost violently. Your eyes focus and then they go wide. You'd recognize that shoulder to hat ratio anywhere. He pushes through the crowd, all elbows and shoulders as he gives no mind to those he moves to get the man at the gate. Your mouth hangs open, seeing him pointing and shouting at the man at the boat and shaking tickets in his face. You can tell the man is helpless in the situation but you know you can save him the trouble.

"ALFIE!" you scream as loudly as you can. You get strange looks from the people around you but there's no one else in your mind or your eyes at this moment. His eyes go wild and his head darts around, looking for the source of your voice. You wave your hands and shout again.

He finds you on the upper deck, smile bright and absolutely beaming at him and he melts. "GENNY I-" he shakes his head holding the tickets. "I WAS TOO LATE! I'M SORRY!" he screams back, his voice carrying easier than yours.

"IT'S OKAY!" you nod animatedly. "I'LL PHONE YOU FROM PARIS!" you scream back, blowing him a kiss in your excitement, being entirely charmed by the apologetic look on his face and waving with the same beautiful smile that captivated him. You had asked him to show you action, and this was certainly that.

He hadn't expected the kiss but he'll be damned if he's not going to leave you with a fond memory in place to start killing off all the bad he'd left you with. He catches it and puts it to his lips and he sees you lean over the railing and laughing loudly at him. He blows you one back and you catch it with both hands and hold it to your chest with a broad smile. Still so sweet and kind even after what he'd done to you. He might not think he deserves it, but he'll be damned if he's not going to take advantage of what must be the biggest celestial mistake that he happened to be the benefactor of. You stand and sigh and smile at each other long after you're out of each other's sight. It was as if the connection between the two of you was back and it was stretching across the water, soon to be connected again through telephone wires. ----- You take the phone out onto the balcony of your apartment in Paris. You're so nervous your hands shake as you pick up and ask for Alfie Solomons, London. Your heart races as you wait for a response.

He hadn't moved from beside the phone in the lounge since he'd got back. He had no intentions of missing your call. If he had to do much as get up to go to the loo he had someone there waiting. Luckily for him, the calls comes while he's sat by the fire.

He almost drops the phone in his anticipation, Cyril giving him a judgemental look from his spot in front of the fire. "'Ello?" his deep voice travels through the receiver and hits your ears and you close your eyes and smile.

"Hello Alfie." you practically coo, voice breathy and sweet.

You hear a heavy exhale, "Genevieve, luv." he says, pausing at the sound of your voice again. "Did you make it to Paris alright?" he asks, rising from his seat.

"I did. Thanks for asking." he can hear the smile in your voice. "Sorry you had to waste money on that ticket." you let out a chuckle.

"Nothing's ever a waste if I get to see you." he says smoothly and you blush, your heart flutters and your brain wants to side it's excitement but it was hard not to get carried away.

"I stayed at the fundraiser and tried to find you, you know."

"Ah. Yes." he nods, pulling back the curtain and looking out his window. "Seems it wasn't in the cards for us to meet that night, was it."

"Seems that way. But as you know I'm a fan of the dramatic and it doesn't get much more dramatic than you taking out a crowd of pedestrians to find me as my ship departed." you let out a giggle, your thumb in your mouth as you look up at the sky. You'd asked him for actions and he had certainly given them to you.

"You must've rubbed off on me, luv." he laughs. "Aggie told me you were there for a wedding. What hotel you stayin' at?"

"I am and I'm actually at my apartment." you say looking out over the street.

"You've got an apartment in Paris, do ya?" he smirks, of course you did.

"I do. It's lovely. You should come with me and see it sometime." you sigh out before you even realize what you're saying.

"I'd love nothing more." he returns the soft tone. "You have one of those fancy ones I bet. Balcony and big tall windows?"

"Good to see you still know me." you hugg out a laugh. "I'm out on the balcony now. It's cold but it's lovely out tonight." you say quietly.

"I'd love to be there with you Gen." his voice also dropping to a hushed whisper. "You lookin' at the moon, pet?" he asks.

"I am." your eyes stare up at her in her stark and bright majesty.

"So am I. Would you be so kind as to do me a favor?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Look up at her for me, would you? We'll pretend we're both there while we're lookin' at the same moon."

You hold the railing and your knees knock together. And you thought romance was dead. "I am. You're here, making fun of the drivers down below."

"You'd be right, the French can't bloody drive." he laughs and you do as well.

You both let out heavy sighs. "It'd be warmer if you were here. But I can pretend." you say softly.

"Genevieve...." you hear his breath catch. "I've missed you so much."

Your eyes well up with tears and you swallow hard. Happy tears that felt like a baptism for you, an end to your sadness. "I've missed you too." you sniffle and feel the tears sting with cold as they fall down your round smiling face. "Alfie love." you lilt out.

You saying his name made his heart swell to the point of bursting. "Yes, darling?" he asks, eyes watery and staring up at the same moon you were.

"Why..." he hears you exhale. "Why did it take you so long to come to me?" he can hear the hurt in your voice, and he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I'm afraid there is no good reason," he says with a huff of a laugh, you can tell he's being honest but you still find it mildly confusing. "And no reason at all now," he adds, scratching his chin. "I'll be having some people over for Shabbat. I'd love if you could come. I would like to explain myself to you if you'll give me the chance." his voice is so soft it's like you can feel it like velvet across your cheeks as it hits your ears and sends warm tingles down your body.

"I'd love to. Is it formal or casual?"

"You can wear anything you want. It's not formal, but I know that never stops you from looking a vision, does it?" he hears a giggle from you. "I just want you here with me, sweetheart."

"Then that's exactly where I'll be." he can feel the warm smile through the phone, his chest aching with happiness, having a reason to keep beating again. "I've got to go for now... but I'll see you soon Alfie." you whisper.

"Good night, my sweet." he coos.

"I'll keep looking at the moon until I see you again." he hears a chuckle. "Goodnight."

The line disconnects. He places it back in the stand and lets out a loud sigh that goes onto turn into a groan as his head falls back against the couch. Cyril becomes curious about the noise and lays his head on Alfie's thigh.

"Look's like you're going to get to met my Genny after all." he says with a smile, the dogs tail thumping against the floor as he scratches his ears with both hands. "You're gonna love her. I know I do." he gives a big smooch to the pup's head before he calls him to follow him to the kitchen to receive a treat for no reason except Alfie wanted him as happy as he was. -- "Lilly my love, what's wrong?" Altar says, his voice full of concern as his big hands set the small cups on the table. He stomps towards you, his long arms outstretched to hold you close.

"For once... absolutely nothing." you say with a happy choked out sob.

"Sweetheart, my princess, what is it?" he rubs your back, you feel like a child, wrapping your arms around him, his big beard rough against your face.

"It was Alfie on the phone." you say with a coy smile.

"Ahhh." he says, pulling you away and putting his hands on your shoulders.

"And?" he says with a smile.

"He was terribly romantic." you look at him with a dopey smile. "We set a time to meet when I return."

"Ah! The best news!" he cheers, clasping his hands together. "Well then fuck having tea! Let's go celebrate!" he laughs and you return the expression as he drags you by the wrist from the window.

Pt. 55 Wild Horses (NSFW)

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber  @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower

#Alfie Solomons #Peaky Blinders #Tom Hardy #Alfie SOlomons x reader #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fan fic #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blindesr fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #alfie solomons au #alfie solomons fluff #chokingonsapphires #fan fiction #writing

[minblush]

I hope you dont mind me asking but what is right wing? Is it like the conservative side

japanese right wing ideology is kinda specific and has been on the rise, it’s tied with radical nationalism and japan’s imperialistic history, which is a topic very sensitive to koreans because they suffered greatly because of japan (the issue of comfort women) etc, current japanese right wing ideology is re-writing history and trying to suppress the knowledge of atrocities japan has committed in favor of blind patriotism (monuments for imperial war criminals, propagation of the rising sun flag which is to east asian countries equivalent to the swastika, removing mentions of war crimes from history books), that’s why korean fans are mad and hurt, and others are also worried about it impacting the image of bangtan in korea

Anonymous said:apparently japanese fans are also really mad so this was undoubtedly the dumbest decision ever bang pd can fucking choke

i haven’t seen as many reactions from them so i can’t comment on that fully, but stupid decision it really was.. can’t get out of my head that bang pd literally said he admires the world view of that man.. what the fuck

Anonymous said:If bts has the amount of artistic freedom and get to make the choices like they say they do there are seven members surely they can stand up and say hey I won’t work with this producer…. I know we don’t know 100% how it all works and what is going on but if they can’t do that then a. They don’t have the freedom they say they do or b. They don’t have the integrity or awareness/right stance on social issues like they make out they do…

you are exactly right

Anonymous said:But not going to lie yoongis work is nice

yes i agree

Anonymous said:Do u think bts need to gives some sort of feedback or something on how toxic the fandom has become?? Do u think its necessary for an artist to respond? Just want to hear your opinion about it. (And i know its not ideal for artist to do that, they basically saying to some of the fans that theyre wrong etc etc, and it will definitely hurt their ego) sooo despite that do u think they actually need to?

do they need to? obviously not because they can keep going just fine without it, should they? would it help? yes, i believe so. i don’t think artists are responsible for what their fans do, but if something you could say would make a difference for the better, then why not? majority of fans adore bts like gods and blindly believe everything they say, were they to speak up it might influence a very good portion of them

Anonymous said:I agree with your post so much I literally love bts to bits but also like,,, I don’t know how to say it you said it better than me but specially with the ‘saying things about any real substance’ not to get too deep but I’ve suffered with bipolar and ADHD my life was absolute shit when I was 18 years old and songs like sea are really genius impactful, I love them and they help me but they’re never the FACE of their album which is disappointing since we hold them up to THAT standard

yes exactly, i’ve had songs that were very meaningful to me as well, but they are getting further and further away from these songs being the focus and instead we keep getting issues like this and i’m just so tired

Anonymous said:I’m so sorry but being an old crusty ass man and defending obvious sexual abuse and harassment because it gets his sick dick hard is the most vile thing I’ve ever seen. I love bts but If they keep this dude on the album I am not touching that shit it can flop hopefully for all I care lmao

same… like really it’s more important to bang pd to get the media buzz than having any integrity.. ugh

w0n-rabbit said:Hi there!! I hope yoi dont mind me bothering but I have been following youre bolg for quite some time now and I have always valued your opinion on all the issues happening because well I like the way you voice them out and your honesty is 😶 quite charming. On a different note, I find it extremely hard to support BTS right now. I mean was a huge fan at first but became less and less of one solely because of the fandom and now this. Sorry to bombard you like this 😶

hi you’re not bothering me at all! thank you for sharing your thoughts as well and for thinking nice things about me (dakjsd i disagree but i appreciate it ofc

Anonymous said:Hey so I’ve been reading your replies and it kinda opened my eyes a bit but I was just wondering on where you stand? Like are you still a fan of bts or you just don’t agree with bighit?

i don’t know anymore honestly, i’ve been continuously disappointed and hurt by things surrounding them for a long time now and the negatives have been outweighing the positives.. i still am fond of the boys and the their group dynamic and the song that meant to me a lot before still do now.. it’s just hard? how can i call myself a fan when this all is what they stand for now? when the company’s priorities are so skewed and painful? so i don’t know, i am still fond of them as people though

#w0n-rabbit #ask #anon

[goldenchildkatsuki]

goldenchildkatsuki writes: a masterpost

Here’s a list of the fics (+AO3links) I’ve written (+ posted in chronological order):

important: now that I have beta readers I’ll soon start editing all my older fics to make sure they have correct grammar, no typos and are easier to read. (21/01/2018)

KACCHAKO

“It’s about having fun”

Summary: 

Bakugou couldn’t wait for Open Academy week. He was always striving to learn as much as possible to stay ahead of everyone. What perfect way to do so to go to nearly every lecture, workshop and training possible. Although it would definitely be an exhausting week, he would be an absolute idiot not to atleast try. The workshop he looked most forward to was the streetfights and public harassment  training the hero Gunhead gave at the end of the week.

Word count: 4.572 

“It’s about having fun: the second chapter”

Summary: 

“I didn’t poison you, you just like me.”

Those words kept haunting Bakugou ever since he heard them. He gushed about ridiculous things to Uraraka thinking she was asleep and she actually heard all of it. Ever since then Bakugou had been trying his hardest not to get in contact with her, even though Uraraka has been trying her hardest to make him talk to her. Bakugou had gotten pretty good at avoiding her at all costs and was even sure she eventually got the hint but Uraraka had no intention of backing down that easily.   

Word count: 4.291

“Banjirou’s bubbeltastic bubble tea”

Summary: 

Bakugou and Uraraka have been together for quite some time now and have made into a habit to hang out together in each others rooms during the weekend. But just hanging out in each others rooms, watching movies, playing video games and doing homework can get boring sometimes. So they decide to go for an impromptu visit at one of their parents homes. Whilst going down there they discover a cute little cafe that happens to sells Uraraka’s favourite beverage: bubble tea.

Word count: 2.392 

“The usual?”

Summary:

Bakugou has been working in his aunts bubbletea shop for some time now. How embaraasing it might be it was the only place that would hire him. Other peple that interviewed him would often describe him as “too angry” or “rough looking” and would say “aren’t you more suited to help out at the local gym?”. So his aunt hired him with pity, but so what? He needed the money. Besides, there’s this cute girl that keeps coming in every other day and she’s not bad to look at at all. 

Word count: 2.695

From JJ’s song inspiration project: “cherry”

Summary: 

I’ve started a new project everyone! I’ve decided to write fics based on my current favortite songs. Music has always inspired me a lot when writing and has cured so many writer blocks. I feel like my writing is just a little bit better when I have a specific song or lyric in mind. Well, now let’s see how this goes.

Cherry by Lana del Rey

Love, I said real love is like feelin’ no fear

When you’re standin’ in the face of danger

Cause you just want it so much

A touch from your real love

Is like heaven takin’ the place of somethin’ evil

And lettin’ it burn off from the rush, yeah, yeah

(Fuck!)

Word count: 3.026

From JJ’s song inspiration project: “like a star”

Summary:

 I’ve started a new project everyone! I’ve decided to write fics based on my current favortite songs. Music has always inspired me a lot when writing and has cured so many writer blocks. I feel like my writing is just a little bit better when I have a specific song or lyric in mind. Well, now let’s see how this goes.

Like A Star by Lil Yachty

used to wanna go far

Now a n*gga up in the galaxy

Tryna figure out why these n*ggas mad at me

Sending shots while I’m livin’ so lovely, like a star

Word count: 4.133

“getting a dog”

Summary: 

request by anon: 

prompt:

kacchako being a domestic and cute, good couple, and theyve decided to get a dog so now they get to go through the hell that is going to the pound and having to choose one (1) dog out of the lot and ochako getting emotional every time she looks at any of them

Word count: 2.006

“Dancing Gods”

Summary: 

Uraraka and Bakugou finally have time to hang out together after an exhausting week of training and studying. At the end of the week they decide to unwind in Uraraka’s room. When Uraraka asks if she can sleep over at Bakugou’s room that night, he declines. Instead of giving her a straight up answer he gives dull and vague answers. What’s up with him?

Word count: 3.361

Silver Brass Bastard (multichapter fic)

Summary:  "Let's make something beautiful today." She often said before picking up her trumpet. Uraraka Ochako spends most of her time outside of Univeristy playing songs for her boyfriend Bakugou Katsuki. She usually practiced playing her favorite songs for him on the balcony attached to her room, looking out over the park that was behind the girls dorm. Bakugou, a hardworking student who majored in Architecture and attended the same Uni, wasn't that keen on melodies and rhythms. He didn't mind listening to Uraraka though. He actually cared a lot about the music she made. It was feel-good and somewhat inspiring. So inspiring, it made Bakugou itch, itch to bring back an old hobby of his.

Word count: 3.969

“don’t shoot”

Summary:  A fic inspired by the two word conversation starter prompt: "dont shoot"

Word count: 4.599

“Masks and Knives”

Summary:  ‘Gynic’. The name of the organization consisting of females seek revenge on men that have done their fellow sisters wrong. Uraraka Ochako had been kindly taken into the organization by the head of Gynic, Yaoyoruzou Momo, after being seen fighting off three large thugs in an alley after a night out. She placed her in a team consisting of four other girls and made her train alongside them, growing into skillful assassin who could take out a man with ease.

After receiving an anonymous tip about a wealthy business man, Himura Tatsuo, trafficking and selling girls to other international business men, Ochako got assigned to take him out. The assassination would be held at one of his extravagant parties. Himura, as expected went all out and decided to host a Masquerade. Could Ochako blend in with the crowd and take out her target? Or will she get held up by a certain someone that would make the night a night to remember?

Word count: 10.862

“Blood stained ribbon”

Summary: "Bakugo feeling left out because he didn't get any chocolates. But Uraraka notices and is the only one to give him one. Girls get roses, but she gets a huge boquet from anonymous that evening."

a drabble requested by @jinaxisotaku (on Tumblr)

Word count: 1.992

“Minimal effort”

Summary: Valentine's Kacchako where they do the opposite of everything traditional. Wing at a sports bar instead of fancy uptight dinner, Monster truck rally instead of romantic movie, etc.a drabble requested by anonymous

Word count: 3.305

“Burned Out Sun” (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 0)

Summary:  First part of a two part monologue post-Sports Festival battle.

Word count: 366

“Teeth”  (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 1)

Summary: 

"I remember your smell when I touched you

How you used to talk to me

It all hurts so much now"

Meaning: xxxtentacion is singing this song about his breakup with his girlfriend, and what he is feeling about relationships.

Word count: 4.642

“Mirror Image”  (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 2)

Summary: Second part of a two part monologue post-Sports Festival battle.

Word count: 343

“Interstellar”  (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 3)

Summary:  Uraraka takes her telescope to the roof of the dorm and plans on stargazing but she gets interrupted by a restless Bakugou.

Word count: 3.260

“Chelsea”  (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 4)

Summary: Bakugou and Uraraka are dogsitting for Uraraka's aunt.

Word count: 4.292

“Train Station Tunes”  (Kacchako Week 2018 Day 5)

Summary: A talented but mysterious pianist manages to peak Uraraka's interest by luring her in with his rhythm and melodies.

Word count: 2.897

“Under the white collar’

Summary: Bakugou and Uraraka have been invited to have lunch with Bakugou's dad, his boss and his kid. Uraraka was not very fond of Bakugou's clothing choice.

Word count: 2.424

“Mariposas”

Summary: An awkward encounter during an evacuation between a girl in childish PJ's and and a boy in black boxers.

Word count: 3.067

“You push & you pull”

Summary: Uraraka, studies Pedagogy at Univeristy. For a big research report for one of her classes she decided to start an all girls soccer team. She managed to start up a team with 14 enthaustiastic and active young girls that love nothing more than to run around the field with her and learn from her. Uraraka had been really enjoying spending time and learning from the girls until an asshole with a tracksuit from her Uni arrived to the club, with a new all boys team, picking a fight with her by taking in her pitch.

Word count: 4.700

“Set the date”

Summary: Uraraka had become set on meeting and defeating Bakugou in the finals of the second Sports Festival and has been serious about working out and training ever since. Bakugou has noticed her sudden drive and improvement and it piqued his interest, causing him to ask her to be his training partner. Now they have been training and preparing together for the Sports Festival for some time and have grown closer to each other in the mean time.

Word count: 4.382

“I-I-I”

Summary: Bakugou hopelessly tries to confess to Uraraka multiples times.

Word count: 3.150

“Red bike, purple Bellflower”

Summary: Bakugou and Uraraka go for a somewhat sponteanous roadtrip in the summer.

Word count: 8.080

TODODEKU

“haunt // bed”

Summary: a tododeku one shot inspired by the song haunt // bed by The 1975

Word count: 1.578

My ask is still open for requests and feedback. Don’t feel bad for dropping a message, I’m currently really enjoying this!

#jj rambles #jj writes #jjs fic requests #jjs sip #song inspiration project #writing update #kacchako #kacchaco #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #uraraka #uraraka ochako #tododeku #tododeku fic #midoriya #midoriya izuku #deku #todoroki #todoroki shouto #bnha #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #self reblog

[totaltozier]

Cruel to Be Kind - Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

REQUEST: Hey! I have an idea but i dont know if its any good. Can you write richie and eddie dating, but one night when they are all pretty drunk bev and richie make out and eddie is heartbroken

NOTE: WOW THIS IS FULL OF ANGST! It’s high key very sad at the end (jk like the whole time) but it’s still great!!!!! Maybe I’ll write a part 2? give it a happy ending???? Hope you all like it! Feedback is always appreciated!

WORD COUNT: 1579

Eddie hated parties. He really did. The idea of a hundred sweaty teens shoved into someone’s tiny house (probably a stranger’s house too!) with couches covered in cheap beer and bad house music so loud it’s not possible to have a conversation was nowhere near Eddie’s idea of fun. At home in his bed binge watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix with a bowl of popcorn was more up his alley. In fact, that sounded perfect to Eddie right now.

Instead, Eddie was sitting next to Richie in his pickup truck parked across the street from Chelsea Marshall’s house. He had already put up a fight about not wanting to come out tonight, claiming he had other, much better, plans. Richie saw right through it, knowing that his boyfriend was being difficult.

Richie turned towards Eddie with his hand on door ready to hop out. ��C’mon Eds, it’ll be fun!” He pleaded.

Eddie let out a sigh and crossed his arms. “I don’t even know anyone in there! This is an after party for the football team and I am very much not on the football team!” Eddie argued.

“But you’re dating me who is evidently on the football team Eds!” It was true. Richie was the wide end receiver on their high school football team and Eddie just happened to be dating him. “Besides, I promise I won’t leave your side okay?” Richie pleaded, making his puppy dog face that Eddie just can’t say no to.

Eddie rolled his eyes and opened his car door. “Fine. But I’m not drinking and since I know you are, I’m taking your keys.” He reached over and pulled Richie’s keys out of the ignition and hopped out of the truck.

Eddie could hear the music before he was even on the front lawn. He didn’t recognize what song it was but it sounded like some Taylor Swift remix. He had a feeling in his gut that something was going to happen tonight but couldn’t quite figure out if it was going to be good or bad.

Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and gave the smaller boy a warm smile. The two headed inside the house. There were kids Eddie recognized from the halls at school with a few unfamiliar faces thrown into the mix. He assumed they were from the catholic high school across town. The house was already packed even though it was only 10 PM.

Richie lead Eddie through the tight crowd of teenagers and into the kitchen. Eddie felt his hand slip out from Richie’s as the taller boy was greeted by someone who Eddie recognized from the football team. Eddie watched as the guy next to him handed Richie a beer which he accepted easily, taking a swig the second he had it in his grip.

“Eddie, you know Jason and Matt!” Richie said as he stood in between the two guys and draped his arms around them both.

Eddie nodded his head “Sure, yeah.” He agreed when really, he had never met the two before. He studied their looks for a moment looking at their matching lettermen jackets and basic greasy haircuts. Eddie knew that if he ever saw Jason and Matt again that he wouldn’t be able to tell the two apart.

Richie continued talking to everyone he knew, making his way around the house circulating through the small groups of people he found throughout. Eddie tagged along behind him, participating in a few conversations when the other people actually noticed that he was there. Most of the conversations were blah although Eddie had enjoyed talking to the girls from Richie’s drama class, they were full of funny stories from their days working on the school musical.

It was around midnight when Eddie had lost Richie. He had scrambled off with some friends from his math class to get more beer and Eddie had opted out deciding to crash on a nearby couch. There were a few rough looking sophmores sitting in the corner subtly getting high but Eddie didn’t see any other empty seats around so he settled.

“Well if it aint Eddie!” Eddie’s head snapped up to see Bill standing in front of him.

“Hey Bill!” He greeted back. “I didn’t know you’d be here” Eddie explained as he watched Bill cross the room to sit on the couch’s armrest next to him.

“Yeah,” Bill started, “Suh-somehow Stan druh-dragged me here. Didn’t really wuh-want to come.” Bill shrugged. Eddie noticed that his friend had a red cup in his hand. Bill took a sip of the mystery drink that Eddie assumed was the bright pink mixture he saw in the kitchen earlier. “Wuh-why are you here?” Bill asked him. “You hate puh-parties.”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah but my boyfriend loves them.” Bill nodded at Eddie. “So I get dragged along to make sure he gets home safe, I guess.”

“Speaking of, whuh-where is R-richie?” Bill questioned as his eyes scanned the room looking for the gangly boy.

Eddie leaned back into the couch resting his head on the back of the cushions. “Beats me. Funny though, he promised that he’d stay by my side all night but I haven’t seen Richie for almost the past hour.” He explained.

“You looking for Richie?” Eddie didn’t recognize the voice talking to him but looked up to see who it was anyways. It was a girl with piercing green eyes and long blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail leaning against the doorframe. Something about her unsettled Eddie, but then again it could just be the smoke wafting through the air.

“Maybe,” Eddie answered hesitantly, shifting in his seat. “Why, what do you know?”

“I was talking to him upstairs about Mrs. Keith’s English class project before that Marsh girl dragged him into one of the bedrooms and locked me out” the girl pushed off from the doorframe and walked away calling out “just thought you’d like to know.” Before disappearing into the crowd of people.

Eddie sat there for a moment. He knew his Richie. He knew that he loved him and the feeling was mutual. Yet for some reason, Eddie felt glued to the grimy couch he was sat on. As if getting up and finding Richie was going to be the end of the world and the couch could somehow save him.

Bill stared down at the small boy and nudged him out of his trance. “Hey, are you alr-right?” He asked worried.

“Yeah I’m great” Eddie replied. But the boy had tunnel vision and before he knew it he was already up the narrow flight of stairs and opening random doors trying to find Richie.

After barging into two bedrooms and one awkward bathroom party, Eddie found the only door that wouldn’t open from the outside.

“Richie?” He called out as he nagged on the door. “Rich, it’s me! Open up!” He jiggled the doorknob with urgency. In a panicked state, he kept repeating to himself over and over in his mind You love Richie and Richie loves you.

After what felt like a lifetime, the old lock gave out and Eddie fell forwards as the door flung open. He stumbled before regaining his balance but he might as well fallen face first onto the floor because that would have hurt less than the sight before him. Caught like a deer in headlights, Eddie just stood there, one hand gripping the cold doorknob, watching as Richie had himself draped over Beverly, kissing her as she was pushed up against the wall.

“Richie?” Eddie said just loud enough for the other to hear.

Richie scrambled off of Beverly, jumping back at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “Eddie, hi, wh-what are you doing?”

Eddie could feel his face flush. Richie was kissing someone. His boyfriend was kissing someone who was not him. Kissing another person and then questioning Eddie on what he was doing. Eddie felt like he was on fire.

“I’m leaving.” Eddie said as he turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him as he ran through the crowded house, pushing everyone out of his way without even saying sorry.

He was on the front lawn crossing towards Richie’s car when he felt a warm hand grip his arm.

“Eddie don’t go!” Richie pleaded as he grabbed Eddie’s arm. But Richie was still a little too drunk giving Eddie the upper hand as he shrugged his hand off.

“No Richie!” Eddie grumbled back. He could feel the heat on his face as tears dangerously pooled up in his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry right now. At least not here.

“Eds, please!” Richie tried again and this time Eddie stopped and turned around.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He yelled. “You don’t get to kiss someone else, kiss a girl, and think that you can still call me that!”

“Eddie, it didn’t mean anything, that was, it’s just Beverly!” Richie argued but Eddie was having none of it.

“Oh yeah, just Beverly. And what? I’m just Eddie, right?” Eddie threw back. The tears had fallen now, the cool water running gently down his hot cheeks.

“No, it’s not like that, you know that Eds!” Richie explained but it was too late.

Eddie shook his head as he wiped his hand across his wet cheek. “No, I don’t know that, Rich.” He turned around and started making his way across the grass.

“Where are you going?” Richie asked.

“I’m going home. I didn’t even want to come to this fucking party anyways.” Eddie jogged across the street and quickly climbed into Richie’s truck. He was supposed to drive Richie home but right now he couldn’t care less. He turned the truck on and pulled out of the spot, driving away from the house, from the party, from the noise, from the mess that was his and Richie’s relationship.

Before turning off of the street Eddie quickly glanced in the rear-view mirror and shook his head. He could see Richie still standing on the lawn, right where Eddie had left him as if he was waiting for Eddie to turn around and come pick him up. But Eddie didn’t. He drove until he hit the town’s limit and then further past that, trying to get as far away from Richie and his broken heart as possible.

#IT #IT 2017 #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie x eddie #reddie #finn wolfhard imagine #jack dylan grazer imagine #finn wolfhard #jack dylan grazer #the losers club #losers club #losers club imagine #min

[groundramon]

I dont usually have a lot of sympathy for myself.  My lack of respect for myself and downright self-hatred says at best “well that sucks but whatever, other people have had it worse” and at worse “well you deserve that, don’t you?”  But the older I get, the more disconnected I become from the person I was when I was 7, 10, or even 12.  And the more disconnected I get from what i was like at those ages, the more i look back on that and realize “hey, that was really shitty and it fucked me up, that’s not cool” and the angrier I get about the things that happened to me when I was young.

I stand by the statement that I had a pretty decent (if not great) childhood, at least by most people’s standards, and that most of my problems were blown way out of proportion.  But I dunno, watching your classmates mock every one of your interests one by one is pretty traumatic for a 6-8 year old kid.  First it was MLP, then it was the cartoons I watched at the time (which to be fair were still shit, but i was like 7 at the time), then it was Pokemon...Pokemon was the only one I didnt give up, but to this day, I still feel embarrassed to walk around holding my phone and playing Pokemon Go.  I still feel embarrassed to wear any of my Pokemon shirts.  And whenever someone asks about my interests, I...clam up.  I love talking about my interests so fucking much, but any time someone asks me about them and havent established their opinions on certain things I like, I clam up and try not to talk about them.  Because I’m still embarrassed by them.  I’m still worried that some one will hear the shows I like to watch and say “oh...okay...aren’t you a little old for those shows?”  Same goes for books and video games.

Recently in my English class, we had to make a list of some of the literature and authors that we liked and submit them publicly to the class.  We were (or are, because the paper isn’t due yet) supposed to then pick one of those pieces of literature and do a literary analysis on it.  For days I panicked over what I would write, because I dont...read very often, and I really didn’t want to just go in there saying “Yeah I like Warrior Cats and Wings of Fire! : D I’m a mature teenager!”  The good news is that I came up with the idea to analyze a piece of literature intended for younger audiences with the excuse that I want to write for children, but I also want to write shows that appeal to all people of all ages.  But that’s one success story in a field of failures caused by the social anxiety I have over my interests.

I dropped out of an online television writing course (which, you know, I need to take because I’m going into that field) because we had to write spec scripts for a tv show we liked, and I had so much anxiety over finding a decent show for the assignments that I couldnt handle it (plus I got behind on the assignments because no one told me the course had started, and then the teacher wasn’t in the class or something so he didnt give me feedback until like 5 days into a two-week course?? so we got our money back.  Plus none of the shows I like fit the requirements for the course; it wasnt a children’s writing course or a writing for animation course, yknow?  So fuck me)  I’m afraid of going into another television writing class because I’m worried about the same thing happening.

For years, I never suggested any pieces that I wanted to learn from video games or tv shows I liked to my piano teacher because I didn’t want to admit my interests to my piano teacher.  I still feel cringey when playing the songs.

Hell there are certain interests online even that I dont feel completely comfortable talking about.  I’ll mention them occasionally, but usually I try to keep quiet about them because I’m worried other people will see me as cringey for them, or even just be annoyed since a lot of them are those fandoms that have spread EVERYWHERE and people who arent fans of the original content have just gotten sick of it.  (I do that too though, so im not trying to call out  people.  I’m just not in control of what my brain decides to be anxious about)

All because when I was younger, some kids sung a song about ponies dying and scorned things that they saw as “for children”

Kids may be kids, and I cant hold those people accountable for what they did when they were 8.  I’m not saying you cant hold kids accountable for bullying when they’re 8, but it wasn’t bullying, it was just an ignorant assumption that everyone hated the same things they hated.  Like I said, I had a decent childhood.

But boy did it still fuck me up as a kid

#stormy speaks #not to mention other things that happened that i wont bother mentioning #some in regards to anxiety and others in regards to literal safety hazards #like things that caused me legitimate health problems because no one helped me with them :') #vent

[acupfullofcolors]

Are you till writing fanfiction?

The answer to that is, yes. Yes I do.

I have some half written oneshots, short stories and new chapters for old stories already lying around on my laptop and I only need to finish them and a lot of people asked me when I am going to update so I am giving you a quick Q&A about that...

1. Are your stories on temporary hiatus or even abandoned/discontinued?

I didn't plan for putting them on hiatus but it happened. They are not abandoned. I will continue them

2. When do you think you're going to update them?

Well I hope that the new 'friends with benefit chapter' will be out till friday the latest and the new 'in a world full of alphas...' by next week but no promises.

3. Is there a reason why you didnt update?

Well Yeah. Mostly because my personal life is kinda hectic right now. Since we only own one care right now I have to drive my partner to work and after that our kids to school and Kindergarten so I am mostly not at home and when I am I am tired as fuck and just collaps onto my sofa and go straight into hybernation. Also I got myself roped into age of empires again and am breathing this game right now, lol.

4. Is there a possibilty to work together with you or request a story?

Yeah it is possible to do both of that just send me a dm or ask right here and we find a way to make that happen. If I don't feel comfortable with writing some things I tell you right away. I wont force myself to write things I don't support or feel okay with.

5. If I request a ship you don't like or don't ship will you refuse or is there still a possibilty?

Just ask and we can see what we can do. I wont write nsfw for ships I feel uncomfortable with but we can work the rest out somehow there is always a way to agree.

6. Do you plan on writing more then just BakuDeku at the moment or is this all you ever going to write?

I do plan on posting a few other oneshots for other bnha ships so stay tuned for that. Also I am into other fandoms as well and if inspiration strikes me I will do them as well. I have some old and unfinished SasuNaru stories for example I planned to translate so we see about that!

7. Is there a way you can update faster?

If there was you would already be flooded with my stories but unfortunately there isn't much you can do besides supporting my work and comment on it so I can see that people enjoy them which motivates me a lot.

8. Do you have a beta reader or are looking for one?

No I don't have one but I am in great need of one. Since I am no native speaker it would be nice to have a beta who looks over the crap I produce and edit my work, magically erase my mistakes I made so to speak. So if you're up to it feel free to message me 😜

9. What inspires you the most?

Mostly I get inspired by books or stories I read, movies I watched or songs I listened to. Sometimes it's little scenes from the manga or anime itself. I so get inspired by everyday people and what they're doing or saying so as you can see everything can become a inspiration if you want.

10. Do you have any tips on writing or how to start a story?

Nah, not really. Just do what makes you happy and don't let people drag you down. Practice makes perfect so the more you write the better you get just like with everything else. If you're planning on posting on ao3 start with one chapter at a time with multi chaptered fics. Don't post the whole story at once but rather chapter after chapter with a few days between them so that people have the chance to discover your story and leave feedback. Don't get discouraged if your story doesn't get the immedate attention you're craving for sometimes it takes time so keep on going but dont force yourself ❤ if you need time for a chapter, take it. It's better to stand 100% behind it instead of posting just because people want you to. A happy writer makes guarantees happy readers ❤

#bakudeku #bnha writer #writers on tumblr #writers block #bnha fanfiction #tumblr fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic writer #writing tips #q n a

[fightmejeonkook]

Dance Practice (M)

REQUEST:  Can I request a hobi smut when you’re his partner in a dance routine and it got heated? Love your writing btw

AUTHORS NOTE: Hi! Sorry if this request took a while! I just made it into something like a drabble so I hope you dont mind! ;) I took this Hobi character out of my One Dance story, which means the stories are a little bit sorta connected.  So if you read that, you’d know why Jimin is the way he is here! anyway,  I know this isn’t my best work so I do plan to make it up to you soon :’( Hope you guys can forgive me for any mistakes I missed out on! feedback is well appreciated too! Hobi loves you!

genre: slight smut, dance partners, quick drabble.

“You’re not moving your hips right.” Hoseok comments, hand resting on the small of your back as he motions for you to push your chest out. You suck in a tight breath, eyes doing their best to focus on your own reflection as you listen to his assessment, when in reality, all that was running through your mind was how your skin was flaming up everywhere he was touching you.

“You should follow the sway of your feet before you move left then-” His voice drones out to a light buzz as you stare at him through the mirror, eyes following every move of his body as he tries to show you a certain move. You take your lower lip between your teeth when you see him push his bangs back against his head, revealing his forehead which always made him look 10 times more attractive than usual. He gently flaps his shirt back and forth, trying to get air in as he continues to comment about your foot work. You nod almost robotically, mind too forgone as you catch a glimpse of his collarbone, sweat dripping down the delicious expanse of skin, practically begging you to mark it.

“Y/n!” Hoseok’s loud yell has you jumping in surprise as you blink up to look at him, cheeks flaming in embarrassment at how far your thoughts had strayed.

“Are you hungry? You’ve been zoning out and licking your lips every now and then? Should we go get a snack before we finish up?” He asks, arms crossing over his chest in minor irritation.

“No! Sorry, I’ll pay attention now, I promise.” You wave your hands at him, eyes casting down at the floor in shame. You were embarrassed that you had allowed yourself to get so distracted, especially during the night of your last practice. You and Hoseok were going to be auditioning for the lead role of the summer performance for your agency, which was scheduled tomorrow morning. You hadn’t expected to be paired up with him, hadn’t even considered the fact of ever being able to work with him as Hoseok was at such a high level when it came to dancing. But when the bright boy had approached you 3 weeks ago to pair up, who were you to deny him?

“I’m probably nagging too much.” Hoseok shrugs, walking towards the speakers and scrolling down his phone “Let’s just try out the routine one last time.”

You give him a quick nod before you’re turning to look back at the mirrors. You give yourself a short pep talk, reminding yourself of certain moves to take note of. As much as possible, you wanted to impress Hoseok during your last practice, to prove that you weren’t just a second rate dancer, that you were just as serious about this as he was. You gently shake your arms, trying to push away the tension vibrating through you as the first few beats of the song clambers around the practice room.

You let out a steadying breath as Hoseok gingerly places his hands on your hips, head pressing lightly against your neck before pulling away as the beat drops. You watch in close precision through the mirrors as both your bodies snap to the beat, feet following every set of the choreography perfectly. When the hardest part of the song passes with no mistakes, your lips immediately curl up in a smile and you end up angling your head to look at Hoseok, eyes widening when you see his usual blinding grin directed at you.

“You’re doing amazing!” He screams, adrenaline pumping through him as the last few beats of the song pulse against the speakers. His hands gingerly swipe against your waist and you push back the shiver that runs through you as you press against him, feeling your body perfectly curving against his own. You eye him through the mirrors yet again, throat drying up when you see the dark gaze that had crossed Hoseok’s eyes. You swallow the lump stuck in your throat, doing your best to focus on the last few dance moves. Then suddenly, you feel his breath hot against your neck, his feet abruptly halting as he squeezes your waist, pressing your closer to him. All thoughts instantly leave your mind as you stand still against him, all choreographies forgotten. You stare wide eyed at your reflections, watching as Hoseok buries his head on your shoulders, doing his best to avoid any contact with your lower body but making sure you were close enough to touch.

“Wh-What’s wrong?” You stutter breathlessly, not sure if it was from all the dancing or from the way his body felt against yours.

“This won’t do.” His deep voice surprises you, your mouth falling open as he squeezes your waist yet again.

“Did I do anything wrong?” You ask with caution, biting onto your lower right before Hoseok lifts his head to look at you through the mirrors. When he sees your lip between your teeth, he lets out a hiss and grabs your hand, twisting your body before pressing your foreheads together.

“On the contrary, Y/n” He whispers, gaze locking with yours “You’re absolutely perfect.”

He uses one finger you push your hair out of your face, thumb swiping back and forth against your skin, leaving goose bumps ghosting through you.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to be my partner” He sighs. The words sting you and you do your best to hide your disappointment as you watch him drop your arms before stepping away from you.

“I can’t focus on anything when you’re around me, y/n.”

Oh.

You watch as he steps back, hand running through his hair in aggravation at himself. Hoseok spares you one glance, lips lifting up in a tight smile when he notices your agitation.

“Y/n, you’re a great dancer. Dont think you aren’t.” He ruffles his hair, not knowing how to put his frustration to words “It’s just, you’re really so fucking attractive and I get so distracted when I dance with you. You know, having your body so close with mine…”

Fuck it, he might as well be honest. He’d already ruin your practice anyway. If he was gonna lose you as a dance partner then he might as well have been honest as to why. He had nothing left to lose.

“Really?” You breath out, shocked to hear such words coming out of Hoseok’s mouth. You take an unconscious step forward and Hoseok’s eyes immediately widen as he looks at you.

“Um yeah, I mean have you seen yourself?” He swallows the lump stuck in his throat, heart slamming against his chest when you stop right in front of him, head lifting up to capture those sharp eyes you’ve always adored.

“You know that last move? Before the song ends, could you teach me how to do it again? I think I forgot how it goes.” You fake a request, mind plotting something else as you wait for him to move. Where your surge of confidence had come from, you had no idea.

“The last move?” Hoseok blinks down at you, eyes glancing down at your lips every now and then. He nibbles on his lower lip before he’s lifting his hand and placing it against your waist.

“You just have to move your hips back then move your legs forward before you-” His words die down in his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck, legs separating just as his thigh presses between your own.

“Then I just rotate them right?” You ask innocently as you rotate your hips, your crotch rubbing against his thigh gently, your core suddenly throbbing for more friction.

“Are you doing this on purpose, Y/n?” The husk in his voice has you shivering with excitement. Hoseok’s gaze had darken, eyes gazing solely on you as you fight back a knowing smile.  You shake your head to answer ‘no’ but the sparkle in your eyes gives Hoseok his answer as he circles his arms around you, pushing your chest against his own.

“Good.” He leans towards your ears, lips ghosting against your skin causing you to shut your eyes in anticipation. Hoseok pulls his head back, lips curving up into a smirk when he sees your response to the smallest of his actions. He nibbles on his lower lip for a few seconds before he’s leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. Your own lips part in shock and Hoseok pulls back to look at you, trying to decide if he should continue his ministrations or not.  A growl all of a sudden rumbles out of your throat as your grip the collar of his shirt before slamming your lips back onto his. You dont give Hoseok the time to recover as you thread your fingers through his hair, toes tipping up to angle the kiss better. The young dancer immediately snaps out of his reverie, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls your body against his just to feel any type of contact. His tongue grazes your lip and you bite back the moan that wished to escape you, not wanting to show him how eager you were to have the taste of him in your mouth. You gently slip your tongue out, pressing it against his own before your spreading your lips apart and letting him explore every corner of your mouth. Waves of heat pulse through your body, traveling down to your core and you immediately press your thighs together only to find yourself incapable of doing so due to Hoseok’s thigh lodge between your own.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles against your lips, a knowing smirk gracing his face as he gently lifts up his leg, thighs digging onto your core with a demanding pressure. An unconscious moan escapes your lips as you pull your head back and turn to look glare at the evil boy.

“You okay there, kitten?” He arches an eyebrow and you grit your teeth at him, knowing damn well that he knew what he was doing to you.

Fine. Two can play it that way.

You lean towards the dancer, hands curling up against the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. The shiver that vibrates through his body has you smiling as you ghost your lips against his earlobe.

“What about you sweetheart?” You whisper, tongue swiping over his neck before you’re sucking at a soft portion of his skin, aiming to mark him. Hoseok’s answering groan is music to your ears as he angles his head to the side, providing you more access.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, fingers lifting your shirt up just so he could feel the bare skin of your stomach. When you see the purple mark blossoming against his skin, you let out a wide smile before turning back to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” Your innocent question releases an unbelieving scoff out of Hoseok’s lips before he’s lifting your legs and wrapping it around his waist. You let out a shocked squeal, arms wrapping around his neck as he starts walking towards the large mirrors, pressing you against the cool surface as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, taking revenge by biting his own mark against your skin. You arch into him, lips parting in pleasure when you feel him rotating his hips against you, crotch rubbing directly against you core, providing you with the friction you so desperately needed.

“Oh my go- Hoseok!” You mewl, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined slamming you against this mirror just to fucking have my way with you.” Hoseok mutters, hands lifting your shirt higher until it was completely off of you, tossing it away and disregarding it on the floor.

“Especially when you were dancing so fucking seductively at that club that time.”

He had noticed? 2 months ago, your agency had a get together at a club after the announcements of the leads for last season’s performance. You recall having one too many drinks that night, allowing your friends to drag you to the dance floor where you had spent about an hour dancing till you were drenched in sweat. Your friend’s whisper against your ear had you snapping your head back to look at who she said was calling “eye candy” only to find Hoseok and Jimin watching you from a distance. You push your hair out of your face, body swaying to the beat as you continued your stare down with Hoseok, eyes finding it hard to tear away from him. You were about to test the waters and send him a wink, the alcohol in your system urging you on, but a sudden arm wrapping around your waist has you turning back around to find a close male friend smiling down at you.

“I had to control myself from marching down that dance floor and pushing that little shit off of you.”

“He was a friend.” You smile, amused to find this new found possessive side to Hoseok, especially at the fact that it was directed at you.

“He was touching what was mine.” Hoseok reaches for the clasp of your bra, eyebrows arching as you push the straps down to reveal your bare chest to him.

“When did I become yours?” You breath out, heart hammering against your chest when you see him gazing deliciously at your body, tongue swiping against his lips before he’s meeting your eyes yet again.

“Right now, babe.” He growls, lips claiming yours with more hunger, hands slowly making their way up your waist and towards your chest. You moan into his mouth, back arching into his touch as he takes your nipples between his fingers, pinching and rolling the hardened nub painfully slow. You tug at his shirt, lifting it up over his shoulders and dropping the flimsy cloth to the floor before he’s ravaging you yet again.

“Hoseok~” You mewl his name out in complete pleasure. At the mention of his name, Hoseok’s member immediately twitches in his pants, your voice enough to send him over the edge and back. You slowly unravel your legs around his waist, trying to stand on your two feet, an idea springing into your mind.  Hoseok decides to consent to your wishes, stepping back a bit as he watches you gently place your hand on his stomach to push him back. You take your lower lip into your mouth; eyes twinkling with pure desire as you study the curve and outline of his well built bare upper body. A soft whistle escapes your lips as your tug at his belt, pressing him back against you.

“Look at you, babe.” You smile up at him causing the dancer let out a frustrated groan, his senses more focused on the way your hands were unbuckling his belt in a speed so painstaking that he was sure he was about to lose his mind. You pull the belt out of its loops, dropping the leather strap against the hard wood floors with a loud bang.

“Quit teasing me, kitten” Hoseok growls when you graze your fingers against his crotch, feeling the straining length pressing against his jeans painfully. You arch an eyebrow to challenge him and just as he was about to counter your teasing, you drag his zipper over his length, hands immediately palming him over his boxers. Hoseok’s mouth falls open, a soft moan of your name leaving his lips. You let out a proud smirk before you’re tugging his boxers down, his length immediately slapping against his stomach and greeting you. You’re mouth waters at the sight of him, head throbbing and leaking just to be touched.

“Y/n.” He warns you, voice laced with a venom warning that he wouldn’t appreciate any more of your teasing. You were walking on a dangerous line but the adrenaline was getting to your head, ignoring his warning as you run your finger’s nails gently against his length, making it twitch harder now.

“FUCK! That’s it.” Hoseok growls, hands reaching out for your wrists and lifting them up over your head. Your eyes widen in alarm as he pushes you backwards, your back pressing against the cold mirrors as he uses one hand to lock your wrists in place, restricting you from moving them.

“What are you-“You were about to ask him but when his hands slip past the waistband of your shorts and into your underwear, you’re immediately letting out a yelp as you struggle under his grip. Hoseok was out for revenge, and knowing him, you knew he was going to make sure he would push you to the edge.

“I told you to play nice, kitten.” He smiles devilishly at you, nose running against your jaw line as his fingers slowly circle your clit, his touch almost feather like. You buck your hips forward, your mouth spewing out curses.

“Hoseok, please! I’m sorry!” You cry out, wanting nothing more than to have him touch you, to have his fingers circling against your heat, to have them pumping in and out of you.

To have him inside of you, fucking you to oblivion.

“Beg some more and I might play nice.” He hums against your skin, tongue tracing light circles on the mark he had left on you earlier.

“Please! Hoseok please! Touch me.” You mewl out, forehead dripping with sweat as you rotate your hips, trying to get more pressure from his fingers.

“Since you asked nicely” He smiles down at you and before you could cuss him out for being an asshole, the dancer suddenly slides a finger into your folds, curling it into you and immediately rubbing against your sweet spot.

“AH! FUCK!” You scream both in shock and pleasure, your head spinning at the sudden feeling of having his finger inside of you.

“Shit. You’re so fucking wet, Y/n.” Hoseok hisses, finger pumping in and out of you with ease. You moan his name out again, eyes squeezing shut as he quickens his pace, bent on pushing your over the edge.

“Think you can take in another finger? I think you can, babe. You’re so fucking wet, I bet it’d just slide in easily.” He growls against your ear, pleased to see you loosing yourself all from the feel of his fingers inside of you.

“Please!” You beg yet again, grateful when he finally decides to reward you by inserting another finger, scissoring them to stretch you out even more. You immediately had started shaking, the pleasure spreading across your body like wildfire. You threw your head from side to side, chest heaving up and down when you felt your climax reaching its turning point.

“Are you gonna cum like this? Are we gonna soak your panties, babe?” Hoseok smirks down at you and as much as you wanted to hiss at him, to counter his teasing, you were only able to let out a moan as he uses his thumb to press against your clit, circling slowly as two fingers pumped in and out of you.

“AHH! Fuck! HOSEOK!” You scream out his name, your climax finally shuddering through you as you arch your body, arms struggling against Hoseok’s grip as he kept you in place, riding out your high by continually pumping in and out of you. He watches in pompous fascination as you fall back against the mirrors, chest heaving up and down in exhaustion as you try to shake your hips away from him, the oversensitivity of his touches causing you to shiver. Hoseok pulls his hands out of your shorts, eyes twinkling with glory when he sees your juices coating his fingers deliciously. Just as he was about to take the digits in his mouth to have a taste of you, a sudden knock against the door has both of you freezing in place.

Hoseok presses his body against yours, using himself as a shield to conceal your bare body just as Jimin had entered the practice room without any thought.

“Hey Hos- OH MY GOD.” The blonde dancer screams out, finger pointing at you two in shock.

Your mouth opens in surprise, eyes lifting up to look at Hoseok who was gritting his teeth in irritation as he uses his hands to cover up your sides, doing his best to hide you from Jimin who was still staring at you both, dumbfounded.

“Jimin, get the fuck out!” Hoseok screeches as he angles his head back to glare at the intruding boy.

“When the hell did this happen?” Jimin recovers from his shock, arms crossing over his chest as he waves a finger at you two “We’re you both here every night doing this when you said you were ‘practicing’?”

Your cheeks flame in embarrassment and you chose to burry your face against Hoseok chest, too embarrassed to face Jimin at all. The taller boy immediately circles his arm around you, pressing you into him as he glares daggers at his friend.

“I’m going to kill him. Cut off his dick and make sure he doesn’t have any more descendants as stupid as him.” Hoseok voice echoes around the room making your lift your head up to look at him with a quick smile, amused at how annoyed he was.

“I can hear you, you know.” Jimin frowns as his hand fly towards his crotch, as if protecting it from being cut off.

“GET OUT!” Both you and Hoseok scream and Jimin lets out a hearty laugh before he’s spinning on his heels and bouncing out of the practice room’s doors, leaving you and Hoseok to gawk at the amount of embarrassment he had caused you.

Leaving you both completely sexually frustrated just when things were getting good.

#Hoseok #jung hoseok #Jhope #Jhope Smut #Hoseok Fanfic #Hoseok Imagines #Hoseok Smut #Jhope fanfic #Hobi #Bts Smut #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #bts #Jung Hoseok smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic

[sugagimmesugar]

Only Fools fall for You Chapter 2

The second chapter of my ReaderXNamjoon fic. First chapter is here. Hope you enjoy! Please give me some feedback if you can spare a minute! Thank you 💜🤟

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“Why are you laughing?”, she asks, confused by his reaction.

His face drops, unsure whether to tell the girl he just met about RapMonster. Why can’t he just be Namjoon for a day? A few seconds of silence as he struggles to decide who to be today…..

Both. Both Namjoon and RM.

“ Actually, that’s me, I am RM. I am kind of on holiday right now, at least I have the whole day today and until tomorrow at 12 off, but in general I am in town for almost a week cause my band is playing some shows here. I was trying to be just Namjoon today but… I am RM too. Thanks for the compliment by the way, nobody’s ever recommended my own music to me.” He shoots her a shy smile, taking in her shocked reaction. Seconds later her expression changes to a mocking grin.

“Yea sure. Hozier my old buddy just popped by last week. I should really start a wall of fame in this place, with all these international celebrities dropping by all the time.” She rolls her eyes at him and leaves him sitting at the bar alone.

With a sigh, Namjoon takes out his phone, opening Spotify and starting up a playlist. “only fools fall for you” he hadnt missed everything from her recommended album after all. While fixing a playlist he was lost in thought. He really liked this girl, hopefully he didnt scare her away. Suddenly he comes to a solution, how he can easily convince her that he isnt just some dickhead being cocky. He quickly checks with his manger, who reluctantly agrees.

A few minutes later, she returns, an annoyed expression on her face.

“Show me your music then, RM.”, she says, dragging out his name in a mocking manner and looking him straight in the eye.

“I am working on a proper playlist right now. But, I actually have a little, well, lets say a proposal for you.” He smirks, taking in her surprised and questioning expression. “How about, I repay you for this coffe tonight? As in, I buy you a drink. And we actually talk a bit. If you end up liking me and we enjoy each others company as much as I think we could… I fixed a backstage pass for the show tomorrow for you. It’s just an opportunity, I dont wanna push anything on you. I just think you could have a fun night out.” She is looking shocked… again… So after a few seconds of awkward silence he decides to get back to the most important thing: “...Please, show me some more of your music! I’m really liking it so far.”, he laughs. He can see her processing what he just said. He cant help but smile at her overwhelmed look.

She shakes her head, a cautious smile on her lips, and turns to help some customers who just entered the store.

As he picks up his phone again he sees it blowing up.

*BTS GroupChat*

Hobi: RM youre bringing a girl tomorrow?

Jin: When did you meet a girl?

Jin: You havent even been out that long? Why bring her to the concert already?

JK: oooh hyung met a girl!

JK: Is she cute?

JK: Is it a date?

JK: Send a pic!

Joon: I met her today, we are getting along great and she doesnt believe me that I am RM so I decided to prove it to her. Also maybe its a date? We will see! She hasnt even said yes yet…..

Hobi: She hasnt even said yes yet? Well done, bro.

RM: JK I cant just take a picture of her, thats creepy.

Suga: why are you guys blowing up my phone like this? let rm try to get some swedish ass and let me nap.

V: *pic of him and Jimin doing the finger heart* cheering for u hyung!

He laughs, everybody is reacting as expected.

Getting back to the playlist he finally decides to add some BTS songs. Why not brag and prepare her for tomorrow night? He keeps on adding to the list, waiting for her to return.

“Wow, how many “favourites” do you have?” he almost jumps at the voice suddenly right behind him.

“You didnt tell me there was a maximum number of songs allowed. I am making a playlist, putting in everything I like that you might like aswell.” he turns around, facing her with a smile.

“I guess that’s valid…. But there’s no way I can listen to all that before our drink later. How ‘bout a top ten? And show me some of your band’s stuff, I wanna know what kinda concert I’m committing to before I say yes to you, stranger.” she laughs, picking up his empty coffee and putting down a notepad in front of him. “Write me a top ten list of songs you recommend by your band and some other stuff. I’ll put it on here at the store and then we can see what i decide.” she turns to leave with a wink.

He grabs her arm: “Wait, you believe me all of a sudden?”

“First of all, you can’t just grab me like that, I am still theoretically at work, even though there isnt much to do. Secondly, I googled you, dumbass. Can’t really deny that you have the same face as RM… So I believe you. Its fucking weird, yes, but I guess the dude who’s album I have been spamming for days somehow found his way to me.” Another wink and she leaves him to sit alone… again.

A top ten list, with songs to convince her to come to the concert tomorrow? That’s surprisingly much pressure.

1. Eternal Sunshine by Epik High

2. Midsummer Madness by 88rising

3. So Far Away by Agust D

4. I can give you heaven by HONNE

5. U by HER

6. Personal by Kehlani

7. Make it Right by BTS

8. Spring Day by BTS

9. Baepsae by BTS

10. Mikrokosmos by BTS

It takes him a while but eventually he finds a way to narrow it down to 10 songs. Some of his general favourites but through the view of what y/n could like.

With a broad, dimpled grin, he waves her over. She just throws up a peace sign and nods, acknowledging his wave. A few minutes later she saunters over, two coffees in her hands.

“Thought we could both use some more caffeine, RapMonster.” she says with a small giggle. He flinches and she quickly continues “Anyways, I am ready for your list! I saw you redo it so many times I was afraid you weren’t gonna finish it today. So, hand it over and I will put it on. Any special order or just any of them? Is it a ranking?”

“Ok, so it’s not a ranking or anything, just the 10 songs I decided fit your taste best, or at least I hope so. BTS, as you know, is the group I am part of, so you can take those last. Agust D is one of the other members in the group and the song is from his solo-mixtape. Since you liked mine so much I thought you might like his stuff, too. Other than that it’s some friends of mine and general songs I jam to myself. I hope you like it.” He hands her the notepad, his 4 earlier drafts already in the trashcan closest to him. She takes it and smiles: “Oh, Kehlani! I love her! Let me just queue these and then I will be right back for the coffee.”

The two sit and drink coffee while the music plays, only occasionally interrupting the listening silence for some lyric explanations.

With the time being close to closing time, the store is empty once again, and unbothered by customers, y/n has slowly started swaying and occasionally dancing along to the music, fixing small things around the store or just dancing up and down behind the bar, just going along with the music. When “Make it Right” starts, she is fixing the last small things behind the bar. He can see her really jamming to the music and it makes him smile, he knows that ARMY loves the song and he has seen the stats and all that, but it’s something different to see someone in front of you, in such a casual way, just enjoying themselves and your music.

** Oh, oh, I can make it Right**

As the chorus hits, she is just grinning at him, dancing around him and actually singing along to it, messily since she doesn’t know the lyrics but still. A bright smile lights up his face at the view, as he watches her move through the room, putting away their mugs and lastly going to get her stuff, getting ready to leave. She emerges with a leather jacket over her arm and a bag on her shoulder. As the last notes of “Make it Right” are sounding out, she hits the pause button.

“Sorry, I’m gonna have to stop this here. I gotta lock up now so we gotta get going. Is it chill if we head to pub right away? I need to eat something before I can let you buy me a drink. I know a nice small place close to here, I doubt any of your fans would go there, so you don’t have to worry about getting recognized.” She shoots him an apologetic look as she turns off everything at the register. He gets up and gets ready to leave, waiting for her just outside the shop.

“Lead the way, you’re the local. I’ll eat anything and to be honest I am not picky with pubs, I would just prefer not to cause a scandal tonight by getting photographed at a pub with a girl.”

She laughs, “Oh god yea that would be bad. It’s just this way. Let’s go!”

[thebipolareffect-blog1]

Commitment Woes.

Today is the day that will change things in my relationship with E. 

Last week, after some long conversations, we decided to start couples therapy. We both suffer from depression (His is MDD and mine is bipolar type 2) and anxiety. While we would like to pretend it doesn't, it definitely affects our relationship. Granted, it's not always negative. I find it endearing when he worries about me being alone at home all day, for example. It only becomes a problem when he starts talking about home safety in great lengths. SNORE (jk).

All that aside, we've got a pretty good thing going. We like each other most of the time. We communicate well for two mentally ill people. We have the same wants and ideas for the future. Our plans include each other. The next natural step seems like marriage, right? Wrong.

Let's dial the clock back a few days. We're both laying in bed, talking about whatever comes to mind. I turn to him and the conversation goes as follows:

R: I want to get married. To you.

E: Yeah?

R: Yeah. Would it be weird if I proposed to you?

E: Not at all. It'd take a lot of pressure off of me.

R: Cool.

E: Cool.

From this conversation, I took what he said as a 'YES GO AHEAD. GREEN LIGHT. ALL SYSTEMS ARE GO.', I still don't understand how I could have taken it any other way. PLEASE GIVE ME INPUT IF YOU SEE WHERE I WENT WRONG IN MY ASSUMPTIONS, BY THE WAY. 

Anyway, I planned a fucking proposal. I bought a custom made ring. I bought a cute little custom dog-tag for S. I bought myself a placeholder ring (he wanted me to have one, too,). I get nervous, oh no. I tell him about it, cause why not! Conversation:

R: Nervous about proposing to the love of my life!

E: Nah, don't be. I know what his answer will be.

R: Are you SURE you want me to propose? I don't want to steal your thunder or emasculate you or anything.

E: We'll talk more about it later, work is getting busy.

R: OK

Again, didn't see any immediate "NO DONT" signs here. I should have sensed some apprehension in the "we'll talk later" part, but what could I do? I'd already ordered the stuff. Whatever. Plans are still a go at this point. We don't talk about this particular subject that night or the next day.

Tuesday morning comes around and I'm a mess of anxiety again. His ring has shipped, the dog-tag has shipped. My ring is being made. ANXIETY. ANXIETY. ANXIETY. So I talk to him again on his lunch break. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went so I'll summarize the best I can:

E: I don't really feel ready.

R: What? For marriage?

E: Yeah. I guess with my depression being as bad as it is right now and me starting a new medication...I just don't feel like it's the best idea.

R: Oh, okay. I understand.

I was stunned, honestly. We got off the phone and shit started to sink in, real hard. Panic. Panic. PANIC. Why did he wait to tell me?

My heart was in a trillion pieces and I wasn't quite sure how to even start the repair process. My thoughts were spiraling, I was not in control. I texted E and told him what was happening. I told him I worried about coming across pushy or like I was trying to guilt him into marriage. 

I told him my thoughts were running rampant trying to figure out the 'WHY' part of things. I told him the things I worried about.

He doesn't love me.

He doesn't want me.

He's ashamed of me.

He doesn't like the way I look. 

I'm not good enough for him.

I'm not attractive enough.

I'm too broken.

I'm too sad. 

I'm too much.

He will never be ready.

He did his best to reassure me. He DID want to get married, he wasn't ready yet. I don't know about any other girl in the world but I've been told all my adult life that when a man says he's not ready, it actually means he doesn't want to marry you. At all. I couldn't get around it.

For the next few days, things kind of piled up. I became depressed. I couldn't take care of myself very well. I wasn't taking care of the housework. I managed to get grocery shopping done. I managed to keep myself and the pets alive. That's about it. It was straining on our relationship.

We went on a short day trip to the next town over. He was driving and I was in the passenger's seat. We were listening to music. "Our Song" came on, he sang it and looked at me. I wanted to bawl. It hurt that he was being so good to me while I was tearing myself up feeling like he had rejected me. I was still having trouble sorting my thoughts on the matter. I was hurting. I still am hurting. 

We ended up talking about it again a few days later. He told me he worried about me changing my mind. He worried about me growing restless and cheating. He worried about him not being good enough for me. I don't know how to quell any of these anxieties and I don't know if he does either.

I ended up not sleeping that night and I typed everything that had gone on into a Reddit post and sought advice. There weren't many responses. The few I did get suggested couples therapy/counseling. DUH, R. 

E had suggested it before, a few months ago. We had some small troubles that resolved themselves after a little while so we never pursued it. I let him know I wanted to see a counselor and if he wanted to go, that was great. If not, I'd go alone and work on our relationship myself but I hoped he would go. He said yes and here we are today. Our appointment is in 2 hours.

I'm a mess of nervousness. It's not quite anxiety...it's a different flavor. Milder, I suppose. We had an argument last night and it sort of boiled down to him worrying about me. He's worried about my mental well-being and it's stressing on him because he has to worry about himself, too. I told him that I was okay, but I sometimes needed help but was afraid to ask. He said he felt the same way. We talked and laughed about some stuff and went to sleep a little late. He woke up this morning feeling down so I asked him if he needed help, he said no and went off to work. He seemed better when I talked to him at lunch, so I'm hoping he is doing better. 

I will likely write again tonight or tomorrow afternoon detailing the appointment some more. I'd like to document our progress on different matters. I want to share myself with someone outside of our relationship, sometimes. I don't have any friends who would/could accept that burden so I pour it out into this blog. I appreciate anyone who reads and I would love feedback, on the writing or the content. EDIT: I wanted to add another event. It occurred sometime between him agreeing to counseling and the date that I posted this. His ring had arrived and the dog tag had as well. He brought in the mail along with both packages and asked what they were. He already had some sort of idea of how I would propose. I didn't want to surprise him with it and make him uncomfortable. I told him he could open them and he did. The tag reads "Will you marry my mama?", the ring is made of tungsten and finished matte. It's gorgeous and I'm proud of myself for picking it out. Anyway, he looks at the dog tag and smiles and kind of shuffles his feet. He looks up at me and grins and says

E: I will. 

R: What?

E: Marry his mama.

He put the ring on and wore it for a few hours until it started to get uncomfortable. I beamed, he beamed. I was so happy, I was so excited. We had worked things out. It was easy! Cool!

Later that night in bed, he sighed. 

E: Why am I such a commit-a-phobe?

Here we go, again. Broken into pieces, again. Dammit, E.

#relationships #mental illness #marriage #07262017