be more so social

Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

4

Yoonseok au where Yoongi aka Agust D is a famous rapper who is smitten with Hoseok, a waiter at a cafe 23/?

And here comes the angst

DISCLAIMER: I KNOW JINJIN IS A SWEETIE IRL I LOVE HIM I PROMISE AND THIS AU WILL NOT BE PORTRAYING HIS CHARACTER ACCURATELY AT ALL I JUST NEEDED A NAME AND A FACE SO I PICKED HIM SORRY

anonymous asked:

How do you feel what gender you are? And what does each gender feel like if you could give a name to it? I’m genuinely interested because I’ve never had those feelings, I’ve only ever encountered social pressure to present myself a certain way.

You either feel like shit till you get it right, or you didn’t think you felt like shit before, but now that you got it and you feel better about your gender, you realize it. If you want me to get more specific about ‘feel like shit’ then I once described it as having your body feel like a hunk of flesh that you just control, not actually you. Or simply anxious (I know my social anxiety went down a lot when I started socially transitioning). We call it more of a feeling so that way we don’t have to explain it the long way, because feeling is the best, most common, word to describe it. 

In other words, I do not get a special tingle from my big toe that tells me that I’m a man.

I guess what I could say is that, if you’re wrong about your current gender, then it’s gonna probably feel the same whether you’re a demigirl, an agender, or simply just a man or woman. It kind of just depends on what parts you want or would be most comfortable with. 

But, as usual, I can be completely wrong because I’ve only ever felt right with one. So if anyone wants to add on or correct me on anything, feel free to.

I had written up a thing but deleted it but having seen good changes I may as well do it again, fresher.

I’ve been to a doctor at the suggestion of my therapist because I had described a cycle I was dealing with, happy but then becoming badly depressed, even ideation though I’d never do it.

I saw the doctor and was told it’s basically Bipolar type 2, which was yeah my ups were so much shorter than the hard downs. I’m now starting a med, 2 weeks + so far, and it’s making a difference. I hadn’t realized my focus issues were a part of this but now I’m able to focus for hours at a time and not become self hating depressed if art doesn’t turn out as I wanted.

I’m hopeful that I can reclaim a lot of things, like reading or socializing more. I have more pieces of my puzzle so I can resume being me, the one I remember being.

I was worrying that I wasn’t controlling PTSD issues. This is actually a relief. : )

andie-kouhai  asked:

So Marc has been homeschooled all his life before his parents sent him to highschool right? Can i ask why did they decide to send him to a public school after all those years of him being educated at home? (Sorry if this is wrong but i swear i read an old post saying he was homeschooled @_@)

You are correct! He was home schooled until 9th grade.

He had a pretty isolated existence as a child and his parents realized he was going to need to learn to socialize with other people - most importantly, humans. That’s why they chose Stone Circle - a school traditionally meant to be a haven for paranormal children and adolescents to learn to adapt to the real world and interact with non-supernatural individuals.

Because he was so socially inexperienced, they felt that a larger, more structured environment would be better for him than something small and, potentially, disorganized - like a co-op. 

And by the time he was 14, they figured he was likely to be able to defend himself better against people who might want to harm him.

Being a social outcast for being a nerd isn’t that accurate anymore, cause being a nerd is more socially acceptable and cool than 50 years ago. So, consider this: Peter Parker being a social outcast not only cause he is a nerd but also cause he is a trans boy

They worked for every ounce of that award and the fame they have. they gave up everything, Yoongi suffered intense depression and his family told him they didn’t support him, he had to abandon them, be so poor he could barely eat to finally break through and show his talent to the world. Jungkook gave up his childhood for this, he was just a little kid with an amazing voice, he was basically raised by 6 other kids who didn’t even know what they were doing themselves. Jimin suffered from low self confidence, he was just a kid himself. Jin was the oldest, he had to take care of a bunch of kids, rap monster literally worked through so much hardship to lead him and his friends to greatness. Hoseok literally suffered constant panic attacks and anxiety issues, he was definitely not the sunshine we see now, he was depressed and didn’t even know if he’d make it. Taehyung was just a small kid coming from his grandmothers strawberry farm. he had no money so his grandmother bought him a fancy jacket so the boys in seoul wouldn’t judge him. and now they’re here, a billboard music award under their belts and hundreds of millions of fans. they deserve every ounce of it, if not more.

Originally posted by mi-0702

2

So since you started to be more active in social media, maybe I have a chance to show you what I made month ago, @markiplier.

This work cross-stitch is actually really special. First of all, from all of the cross-stitch works I made in my life this one is my favorite. Second, I really wanted to made this, cause in that photo from your first channel I see more then just a guy looking at the light in the darkness. I see great hopes for tomorrow and knowing that the next day will be better than yesterday (that’s why I called this cross-stitch ‘Great Hopes’ lol). So everytime I look at my work on the wall, I remembering that no matter what’s gonna happened in my life, I should never lose hope and do something to make my future better.

3

I still can’t believe that these two dorks imported from Transformers Prime are the 2nd pair of canon robots husbands in the IDW comics. They aren’t just window dressing either! There’s a story behind the vain, high speed racer that married a guy who is considered inferior by his whole culture. I want to see it play out so badly!

Knockout and Breakdown are precious and deserve all the love. 

4

FFXV Social Media (1/?) - Main Character Instagram Profiles
→see the rest of the series here

anonymous asked:

R u actually in a feud with Seymour bc I can't tell

Yeah. TBH it’s kinda scary. He has way more social capital than me on this website and so his supporters are basically ripping me apart. I wish I didn’t feel morally obligated to tear off that veneer of internet fame, or else I wouldn’t be fearing for my safety so much right now. I mean he once killed me by striking my sternum so hard I shattered on impact, which is honestly kinda yucky of him.

The Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than You

Speaking out about your experience of disability can be an uncomfortable thing. I often find myself beset with the question, ‘am I disabled enough to advocate as a disabled person?’ ‘Am I qualified to speak here?’ ‘Maybe I’m a fraud. I was diagnosed so long ago, maybe I’m making excuses and not trying hard enough?’ And, the ever-annoying, ‘What about the Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than Me?’

Just as disabled people face pressure to attain an abled ideal, we’re also often haunted by the Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than You. You’re not that disabled, stop whining, just think about someone else who has all your difficulties plus this other one that you don’t have! Shut up about your amputation, what about the quadriplegics of the world! You should be grateful. It could be worse. Don’t ask for accommodations, that’s for REAL disabled people who are So Much More Disabled Than You. Don’t look into the disability benefit, that’s for Properly Disabled People Who Are So Much More Disabled Than You. Don’t park in the disability space, that’s for REAL PROPER disabled people! Yes I know you can’t walk further than 5 metres but YOU JUST NEED TO TRY HARDER.

These messages come from the outside, then, all too often, become our inner talk. We’re indoctrinated with an ‘ability hierarchy’. There are the abled people above you, people similar to you, and below you are the People More Disabled Than You. You figure you’re supposed to spend your life trying to become like the abled people above you, and in this eternal quest you’re supposed to think about how much easier you have it than the People More Disabled Than You and then feel guilty about every struggle you ever have. 

The problem is, this ability hierarchy has no basis in the lived realities of disabled people. It’s used against us in ways that harm us. Because we are all wedged in the awkward middle, where we don’t sail through the world like the normal folks but we’re made to  feel like any assistance, empathy or compassion should be reserved for the Real Disabled People Who Are So Much More Disabled. 

The ability hierarchy makes us feel ashamed to ask for services and accommodations that we need and qualify for. It alienates us from each other. And, like so many other disability myths, it frames disability as an inherent negative. You’re expected to feel grateful you’re not More Disabled. And since you’re not More Disabled, surely Normality is within reach? Maybe you’re not trying hard enough. Just THINK of the MYTHICAL DISABLED PERSON who’s SO MUCH MORE DISABLED THAN YOU!!! You should feel LUCKY!!!! 

The Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than You actually doesn’t exist. There’s always going to be someone facing more challenges. Or different challenges. There is always the possibility of another difficulty cropping up. For every disabled person on the planet, there is that Mythical Disabled Person So Much More Disabled Than Them. It’s really just a myth used to dismiss the needs of disabled people. What right do you have to speak up about your needs, in light of this Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than You? What right have you to argue that disability should be more accepted? What authority do you have? You’re not the Mythical Disabled Person Who’s So Much More Disabled Than You, so you’re just speaking from a place of whining. 

There is no real ‘ability hierarchy’-disability is diverse and complex. You might be able to get up on stage in front of thousands of people to tell jokes but have a panic attack over a cinnamon cookie (hi, that would be me). Your difficulties might not be easily condensed and summed up. There may be days when you’re completely ‘normal’ and days you’re completely not. None of this invalidates your struggles. Instead of thinking in terms of ‘more disabled’ or ‘less disabled’, try to think in terms of meeting people’s needs, taking them seriously, and banishing the stigma of disability. No disabled person is ever going to win this game-it’s time we all stopped playing.

Lame adaptations and sequels are always like, “how can Mina go back to her stifling Victorian marriage after her experience with the dark, seductive Dracula??”

Meanwhile, Mina marries her best friend, who she’s known since they were children, who she share common interests with, they build a home together, work as partners, make immense sacrifices for each other, support each other through their traumas.

Guys, a marriage isn’t stifling and restrictive just because two people… get along, I guess?

10

Malec!AU: Magnus becomes a famous beauty vlogger on Youtube after posting a video about guys wearing make up. Alec plays bass in a band with his siblings and their label think more exposure on social media, so they make a deal with Magnus to post a series of videos featuring their band. After Izzy set them up on date, they become the cutest couple on the internet. 

based on this AU by @isabellebiwoods