i spent so long on this and i am so proud

GEMINI: It’s really easy for people to criticize the choices you’ve been forced to make when they’ve never worn shoes as tattered as yours. The ground never seems rocky to anyone until they’ve personally experienced its brutality, and you’ve been braving the blood and the bruises for years without complaint. It’s okay to feel proud of yourself, for that. It’s okay to acknowledge the things that have made you who you are, even if those things haven’t always been beautiful or easy to talk about. Everything’s easier to appraise once it’s been given a voice.

CANCER: Stop convincing yourself that you don’t deserve the treasure chests that keep arriving on your doorstep. You’ve spent so long attempting to find the reason in your misfortune that you’ve incorrectly deduced that the only commonality between every pitfall is yourself. But you haven’t been factoring in how cruel the universe is, how angry it gets whenever something with a warm heart tries to touch what’s frozen. You’re finding all of this gold and compassion because it’s finally time for you to get what you’ve been giving to others. Take it.

LEO: You know, more so than anybody else, that it’s time to let go of the things that have hurt you, but there’s no easy way to say that you don’t know how to get rid of people that you’ve held so close to your chest. And maybe this says something about how much you try to give to others, all of the parts of yourself you’ve sacrificed for the comfort of soon-to-be-strangers. But the thing about leeches is that they drain you more often than they rid you of disease, especially in this season. And maybe this isn’t a leech yet, but it could become one, with time. Don’t let it.

VIRGO: It’s easy for you to ignore how much people truly care for you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it. The difficulty with this arises whenever you need help, as you’ve never learned how to ask for anything. So you let yourself feel distant from open palms and words of encouragement because you know you can do this yourself. While that’s true, you’re more than strong enough to conquer what’s been eating at you, it’s also true that the love that keeps getting shoved under your door is yours for the taking. It’s okay to pick it up. It’s okay to save it.

LIBRA: You’ve been peering out the window, comparing your reflection to everybody that passes by, and you seem to be forgetting that there’s a mirror right behind you. The only person that you need to measure yourself against is the person you were yesterday. I know it’s frustrating that progress too often moves like honey, and it’s impossible to see growth when you’re always with the thing that’s growing, but slow-motion is still motion. You may not be the person you want to be right now, but you will be. So turn around. Say hello to them.

SCORPIO: You were born with a shovel in your hand and you’ve been spending every moment since then dredging up the past. This is another way of saying that you have a lot of corpses buried in your backyard and despite the passage of time you’re afraid that they’re going to get up and walk away. Maybe come back as ghosts and haunt you, a reminder of what you’ve had to leave behind. But just because you’ve always had the tools to create self-doubt, it doesn’t mean you have to keep them on you at all times. It’s never too late to invest in a toolshed or try out gardening.

SAGITTARIUS: Have you found what you’ve been searching for, yet? Or, maybe a better question is “do you know what you’re looking for?” Because you’ve become an expert at donating your energy to a cause, any cause at all, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s all a distraction. If you’re struggling in the deep end and aren’t comfortable saying so. If you’re calling yourself a lifeguard because every atom of you is begging to be pulled out of the water. Baby, you’re so much more than a body that tries its best to save people. You’re worth more than what you’ve dragged out of the pool.

CAPRICORN: So many people that you care about have been falling into bad luck recently and it makes you feel so powerless. It’s as though you’re a minor character in your own life and you have to just sit back and watch the protagonist fuck things up in order to learn a lesson, or something like that. And I’m not going to lie and say that you’re able to have full control over every aspect of your life, because you never will. But remember that, despite all of this, every little thing you do to combat the world’s anger is a brave sort of rebellion. You are more than enough to the people you love.

AQUARIUS: There are a lot of people that you regret letting into your life and the memory of what you thought they’d be is making it hard for you to get out of bed. It’s okay to be sad, your feelings have only ever known the taste of validity, but know that nobody has the ability to ruin you. Someday they’re all going to regret setting fire to your bark when they realize how miraculous your leaves are in the summer heat, dancing in the breeze of late-night drives with people that want to keep you safe. Repeat after me: I am not damaged. I am not damaged. I am not damaged.

PISCES: I know that it’s hard to put faith in the moments of happiness you’ve been experiencing lately when so much of your life has been spent checking the clock and turning down the music, but you are not an airport or a train station. You’re a destination. And I know that you’re still getting used to the idea of being the subject of a travel brochure and that’s okay. It takes time to become comfortable with anything, even the good. Especially the good. The June air is buzzing and this is your time to shine. Don’t waste it.

ARIES: So, some eras of your life have been ending recently and that’s a little scary. Especially since you worked so hard to get what you’re holding. But they’re just making way for better adventures and happier moments and the only thing left for you to do is embrace that. Welcome change with open arms and it’ll be kind to you. I know there’s a voice in the back of your head saying “what if it all gets bad again” but you need to ignore that voice because it isn’t you. You are the person that’s endured and withstood and kept going. You’re the one that matters, here.

TAURUS: It’s been becoming more and more clear to you that out of all the people you’ve met and interacted with, there are very few you’d consider to be a “friend.” And I know that sometimes it feels like that’s all you’re ever going to get, but it isn’t. One’s hometown is, thankfully, never representative of the world in its entirety and there’s still so much you have left to see. Still so many souls that you’ll discover in the most mundane of places. You just have to keep your eyes open. I know it’s easier to sleep through the sadness, but you’re stronger than that urge, aren’t you? You are.

48 and looking great! (Do not be fooled, Junkrat is fawning head over heels— or er, heel– on the inside)

And thank you to my bro @darkwingsnark for the “I know your secret, secret baby man” line at the end. 

Things Everyone Should Know About Min Yoongi

Or just reasons to love him. (From the POV of a Yoongi stan)

  • loves music
  • LYRICAL GENIUS
  • raps faster than the speed of light. hella control over his voice
  • plays the piano
  • amazing on stage; in his element
  • his mixtape saved hiphop. saved lives. saved the world goddamn Yoongi
  • AGUSTD - Intro: Dt sugA (ft. DJ Friz)                                                                        - AgustD                                                                                                      - give it to me                                                                                              -skit                                                                                                            -724148                                                                                                      -140503 at dawn                                                                                        -The Last                                                                                                    -Tony Montana (ft. Yankie)                                                                          -Interlude ; Dream, Reality                                                                          -so far away (ft. Suran) 
  • he produced the entire thing. it didn’t feel like individual tracks on an album. it felt very complete, in a way i’ve never seen before.
  • released this masterpiece to the world for free; on soundcloud, on a google drive, on mediafire, on spotify…
  • He had no problematic lyrics on his mixtape. He doesn’t imitate or glorify modern American hiphop. There are no meaningless lyrics, no misogyny, no materialism or racial slurs. Instead, he talks about himself and builds on that.
  • worked on his mixtape in between his schedule. sometimes while on the plane, sometimes while working on other music for BTS.
  • Has a polar bear protection bracelet. Really likes polar bears.
  • was the happiest person in the world when he met Kumamon it was all too adorable
  • Very socially aware. Wants to use his fame to shift people’s attention to global problems.
  • When he and Taehyung got sick and were rushed to the hospital, they ended up having to cancel the concert in Kobe. During his vacation time, he went to the stadium they were supposed to perform in by himself and wrote a post about it in the fancafe. He sat in the seats of the stadium and forced himself to imagine the fans’ emotions on the day that was supposed to be the concert. He wrote  a long apology. He felt so guilty it kept him awake every night since the incident. He didn’t know what else to do. He promised never to let the fans down again and to work harder. 
  • works from from 12 am - 6 am on music. even after a full day of training or concert preparation or filming. only to sleep for 2 or 3 hours or not at all to start the next day. sleeps whenever he gets the chance. gives the day’s events his full energy regardless. 
  • when BTS had to pack for their backpacking trip through Europe, he was the one that remembered to pack medicine and first aid supplies. he cleaned up before leaving the hotel room. helped cook. was in charge of their budget. 
  • wrote/composed/produced some of BTS’s best songs:                              -Tomorrow                                                                                                  -Nevermind                                                                                                -Intro (HYYH pt. 1)                                                                                      -Dead Leaves                                                                                            -Fun Boyz                                                                                                  -Just One Day                                                                                            -Let Me Know                                                                                              -Paldogangsan (with Hoseok & Namjoon)                                                  -Cypher pt 1, 2, & 3 (with Hoseok & Namjoon)
  • participates in the making of almost every BTS song
  • he looks gorgeous in every hair colour he’s literally so beautiful
  • once said he would sue Bighit if his hair started falling out lmao
  • his smile that shows his gums
  • laughs in 10 different ways
  • his voice sounds beautiful in Whalien52 aka one of my favourite songs
  • in the song “Move” he dedicated his section to his mom, who was sick after she gave birth to him
  • in “If I ruled the world” he dreams, if he could have anything, it would be to buy a house for his family
  • danced around his studio in the early hours of the morning when “Nevermind” was approved to be the intro of HYYH pt.2
  • really likes lamb skewers. Wants to open a lamb skewer restaurant with Jungkook
  • his only goal is to make music that gives people emotions (comfort). the root of his passion, goes back to when he started making music at the age of 13.
  • his dream was to perform at Olympic Gymnastics Arena. At the end of the concert, he looked for his parents and brother in the crowd. When he saw them, he smiled and got on the floor to do a deep bow, the kind where your forehead touches the ground. This is when he sobbed for the first time at a concert.
  • at fansigns, fans get to write them a question. “What’s more important? Face or body?” is asked a lot, not just to BTS but all Kpop groups. Yoongi is the only one that writes a third option, “Personality” and circles it and writes that it is the most important. He does this every time the question comes up.
  • When given the question, “What type of girl?” or “What type of style do you like in a girl?” He circles all of them.
  • his ideal type is someone who likes music and someone he can communicate with. there are never any other specifications.
  • when asked for the ideal weight in a girl, he writes a ridiculous number
  • when asked what age difference he would date, he wrote “81 years” lol
  • tells everyone to eat well and take care of themselves. loves his fans more than anything.
  • extremely open-minded person
  • when he and Namjoon were being disrespected by Bfree during an interview, he stayed calm and handled the situation well. Then proceeded to drAG THE HELL OUT OF HIM IN CYPHER PT. 2
  • the “S” in Suga stands for “Savage”
  • literally sarcastic all the time
  • “If we’re talking about regrets you should think of some of your past selcas” - to Jimin
  • relatable
  • king of “I meant to do that”
  • the time he and Hoseok reacted to a “Try not to laugh challenge” of their own members and Yoongi laughed so hard he choked
  • his existence is pretty much art in itself
  • the thing he does when his members are doing something embarrassing and he just curls up and covers his face
  • “Min Suga. Genius. Those two words should be enough. *shrugs*”
  • “I want to reincarnate and be a rock in my next lifetime”
  • “I’m Father Louis Williams Suga Adams the Third”
  • “I’m good at doing ugly stuff”
  • “I was destined to be taller, but there were some errors in my development.”
  • “I’d like to introduce you to my lover…this neckpillow"
  • “I’ve always wanted to nap in a different country”
  • on his first birthday after he debuted, he spent his own money to make small gifts for his fans and hand-wrote over 300 notes for the fans that were going to come to see him on his birthday. he spent a long time because he wanted to make each note different. at the event, he got embarrassed because “it’s not much but I hope you all like it”. he learned that instead of 300, 350 came and he made 50 more to send to them. 
  • the next year, he made packages again but this time with transportation cards so the fans could use them when they came to see them. hand-written letters again, signed polaroids and ordered special envelopes. 
  • gave Jimin his credit card to charge the passes with, and when Jimin jokingly said he’s going to spend his money on snacks, Yoongi unhesitatingly said “Okay”
  • he did something again this year, but just didn’t vlog about it.
  • took pictures of Jungkook at his graduation like he was a proud parent 
  • the time when he and Hoseok lost a game and didn’t get dinner. Jimin brought them a crab from their table, and Yoongi let Hoseok have it. “Seeing my dongsaeng eat makes me feel full." 
  • Bangtan love him. They say Yoongi takes care of them well, especially his dongsaengs. He’s the one that silently takes care of them all.
  • The time Yoongi took Jimin out to eat sushi, and while Jimin was tying his shoes, Yoongi paid and told him they could go. "Of course, I’m the hyung." 
  • says his members are his closest friends. says Bighit is like a family
  • when Hoseok was celebrating New Years alone in the dorms, Yoongi left his family and showed up with chicken just so Hoseok wouldn’t have to spend new years by himself
  • Maschine mk2 review what a nerd
  • that time he tried to install a music editing software and ranted for 10 years on the fancafe because technology is problematic 
  • that one time Yoongi got really passionate about coffee and said he needed 309 people to help him "catch” coffee
  • does reviews and gives insight on all of BTS’s albums
  • the time he sang his heart out with Hoseok for “I was able to eat well” and sounded terrible 
  • the time they had a high note challenge and Yoongi sang so “high” that no noise came out
  • so extra. all the time.
  • “the director said it would only take 5 minutes. It’s been exactly 4 minutes and 58 seconds" 
  • that time he had to introduce himself and pulled confetti out of his pocket and threw it over himself 
  • but also unamused
  • he is a paradox
  • “I want to go baaaaaaaack”
  • easily put in his place by Jin, his hyung. But also ignores all of his jokes.
  • cannot dance for his life (literally flailing in DOPE) but is a really good dancer (FIRE ????)
  • he just works hard
  • unhesitatingly kicked Jimin in the balls when he started dancing over his legs while he was trying to sleep. didn’t even wake up.
  • that time Taehyung was really nervous on stage and kept stuttering and messing up his words. the members laughed and poked fun at him, but Yoongi shushed them and the audience and told Taehyung to breathe and relax and start again. This time Taehyung didn’t stutter
  • literally a deadass person at the awards show until Namjoon was up next to perform and Yoongi couldn’t stop being hyped and looking for him
  • makes fun of his members all the time but always makes sure they’re comfortable
  • witty but never crude
  • says he’s not always the best at expressing himself verbally, but wants everyone to know he is always thankful
  • kindest, bravest, strongest person to ever grace this earth. blesses the lives of everyone he touches

There are certain things I didn’t include in there, because they are a part of his mixtape and I think that speaks for itself. 

To Min Yoongi, thank you. 

Okay. So #studyblrs get real isn’t trying to offend anyone. I’ve gotten some anon messages that are really rude and I’ve just straight up deleted them.

#studyblrs get real is just that, we’re getting real. I’ve rewritten my notes to be aesthetically pleasing one time. Uno. Ein. Yeah that’s the only languages I know one in.

The studyblr aesthetic isn’t most people’s real life studies methods. It’s some people’s, and I want to congratulate those who manage to keep the aesthetic up.

But honestly, it’s not real life. Real life is being up at 2 AM, surrounded by four empty cups, Rice Krispies Treat wrappers, and a pizza box with just pizza crust in it, and grease marks on your paper. Real life is not having time to make these AMAZING and GORGEOUS notes, because you’re studying for the grade, NOT the notes.

People say you just need to “study” to be a studyblr, but why is it only the MUJIs, the Mildliners, and the Staedtlers get reblogged? Why doesn’t the pictures of sloppy, coffee stained notes get reblogged? The rain drenched crinkled notes that don’t get rewritten. The notes with more scribbles than legible writing.

Underneath is why I think that #studyblrs get real needs to become popular, and fast, which has been taken from what I said in a conversation with @universi-tea where the idea for #studyblrs get real came up.

Teens that are growing up may not know what they’re facing, because aesthetic studyblr makes it look like sunshine and lollipops.

“I’ve been through things that will commonly happen. I’ve been rejected by my dream school, and I’ve cried at 4 AM in the morning because my fourth SAT scores weren’t high enough to meet requirements after months of studying. I’ve taken AP classes. I’ve graduated.

Your high school/college/university experience may have been different, but mine was a rude awakening and I’m trying to prevent others from crashing and burning like I did. I was an all A student in high school, even with AP classes. I graduated fifth in my class with 25 credits from AP scores, in which my school only offered seven AP classes.

My first test in uni was a 38 in Business Calculus. A fucking 38 out of 100. I remember it very vividly (Thursday night, and the Blacklist was on.) It was like someone was trying play a joke on me because I had NEVER gotten that low of a test grade before. I remember looking at my scores, and the sense of dread settling into the pit of my stomach. I cried, and then called my old AP Bio teacher (idk why now that I think about it) I had a panic attack, and I was by myself (lived alone.) Those two are very dangerous. My next test score was a 51. Rinse, and repeat.

Do you know how worthless I felt? How long my mom yelled at me after I called her? How my friends reacted when they found out? I went and had a four hour conversation with the professor, who told me that this was the most common thing he saw in a class with freshmen in it. That they come thinking that they’re prepared and they are by no means prepared. I had to go to tutoring. For every single class but one. This was so fucking embarrassing. I had gone from the tutor in HS to the tutored in Uni.

My best friend went to the North Carolina School of Math and Science. Extremely prestigious, and extremely hard. “It’s like taking uni classes when you’re 16, 17, and 18, but you don’t get credit for them as college classes.” I’ve known my best friend since I was 10-ish. She’s the most level headed, and the smartest person I know. She calls me frequently, crying, because the work load. She spent a whole week with me trying to get over one failing grade.

This embarrassment, this shame and lack of self worth I experienced in uni is something I NEVER want ANYONE to experience. I’m trying to prevent these people younger than I am from feeling this way, because I had sunk into a depression because of grades. Grades that could’ve been prevented, had I known the truth.

Sure, the studyblr aesthetic may work in some people’s lives, but in college/uni, you’re being pulled in so many directions. I don’t know of a single person in any of my classes that have gorgeous notes. Hell, I don’t know anyone who can even afford to buy nice planners, or buy fresh fruit. Being “a broke college student” is entirely legit.

But all this aside, if you’ve managed to live out the studyblr aesthetic in university and keep up your grades, you better be DAMN proud of yourself. I’m not trying to make anyone mad. This is the reality most of us experience. It’s the honest truth, and I had to find out the hard way. I just don’t want anyone else to find out the hard way, either.“

THE QUEST FOR LOVE

Relationships has never been something I’m brave enough to write about, especially in public. The love between a man and a woman to me is very personal. Add religion into the equation and it just becomes very sacred to me. I do not wish to write too long, since I have classes tomorrow at 9am and it’s exactly 4.30am right now. However, I just need to let a few things off my chest because it has been bothering me for quite a while now. Also, due to my hectic schedule, this is the only time I have to write- though I swear to god I’m super sleepy right now

Before we jump into the topic, yes I am single. Have I ever been in a relationship? The answer is also yes. I know how it feels like to love and be loved the same way I know how it feels to be completely shattered. You see, different people have different definitions of love. I strongly believe that the people we fall in love with can sometimes reflect the kind of person we are. For instance, I really value religion, knowledge and ambition. Thus, if i were to marry someone, I look for someone with these exact characteristics. I want someone who has the same goals that I have. Someone who will not only fight with me to succeed in this world, but also in the hereafter. I need someone who works just as hard as I do, not someone who is always tired and only cares about sleep. No more time should be wasted with whiny and lazy ambitionless boys. If you’re serious to pursue a relationship, look for a man.

If there’s one thing a relationship has taught me, it is the importance of maturity when it comes to love. NEVER indulge in a relationship just because it’s a ‘nice’ feeling. If you want to be with someone might as well be with a person who will help bring the best out of you, spiritually, mentally and also emotionally. If the relationship you are in is leading you towards the haraam, leave. No buts. It is just the end of a toxic relationship, not the end of the world. 

By the way people, it is perfectly OKAY to be single. I have been single for over a year now, and wallahi I have never been this happy and I have been achieving so much. I always tell my friends that when you are single, you have 27 hours a day. What it essentially mean is that you’ll have more time for yourself. I know some people who can only seek comfort in the presence of their significant other. After one relationship ends they feel the need to jump into another. Chill people, chill. Take a breather. You don’t need another person to feel sufficient. Try to be comfortable and at peace with yourself with or without a relationship. You have the rest of your life to be spent with your significant other, so while you’re single, might as well really embrace/enjoy it.

Okay last point before I hit the sack, never settle. Ya Allah I can’t stress this enough. Being single is better than being with the wrong person. As they say, it’s better to wait long than marry wrong. If we dont know what we deserve, we will always settle for less. But to deserve more, we should first be more. Build your character before you choose to build a family. Study hard, learn new skills, take up a hobby, read more, travel. There’s so much that can be done when you’re single for your personal development. Take care of yourself. Your health, spirituality, intelligence, akhlak (good character) etc & inshaAllah you’ll get someone who’d do the same for you.

Jim Rohn once said, “The greatest gift you can give somebody is your own personal development. I used to say, ‘If you will take care of me, I will take care of you.’ Now I say, ‘I will take care of me for you, if you will take care of you for me”.

I know this entry is all over the place, but I’m half awake so do forgive me. I hope you find this post helpful. As for me, call me philophobic but I am personally afraid to be in a relationship again. But when the time comes, I hope the guy I end up with will be proud with the lady I have become. If you happen to read this, whoever you may be, please know that not a day passes that I don’t make do’a for you, and for us. Wherever you are in this world, I hope you are also striving to be your best self. May Allah make it easy for us to find our way to each other. See you when I see you!

Ending this cringey post with one of my favorite quotes from Rumi,

‘Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.’

Lots of love,

Aisyah

The first time I tried to come out to someone I was ten years old and in primary school.
I told a person who was supposed to be one of my best friends. She listened.
The next day when I came to school she had told the twins; my other friends and they all laughed at me and avoided me for days on end. I knew there was something wrong with me then, see!?? So I told them I was just joking and of course I didn’t like girls that way, I’M NOT GAY!
The next time I tried, I told my cousin, my other best friend. She didn’t say a lot about it and just kind of changed the subject. The next time I saw her she asked me if I was being serious with a screwed up look on her face that hit me in the gut like disgust. I felt so sick, am I sick?! There is something so wrong with me. I told her no, of course I wasn’t, I’M NOT GAY, NO REALLY, DEFINITELY!
I started high school desperately trying to be cool, to be normal, to just fit in, why couldn’t I be like all of them? Every now and then someone in the halls would call me a fucking lesbian. It took me right back to those laughs that I heard when I was ten. I was still friends with the same girls who’s laugher haunted me and one night I slept over at their house. They had a brother who was a couple of years older and I thought I might have had a crush on him. It was juvenile wishful thinking. I ended up in his room with the door closed, in the darkness putting his dick in my mouth. After that I asked if I could go home because I was homesick - but I was just sick, I didn’t like anything about him or his dick. I felt so empty and so alone knowing that I was not normal, I was not like any of them. I sat in the bathtub with the door locked at 1am brushing my teeth and trying to erase the stain of what happened.
I came to school on Monday, and people were looking at me. They were talking behind hands and snickering. Someone had told someone and then someone told everyone and they all knew. My mind flew out the second story window in math as a girl passed me a note telling me I was gross and a fucking slut. If anything I thought it would shut them all up? Isn’t that what normal girls do, they like boys and they don’t leave their balls blue?! I had no idea what in the fuck I was supposed to do.
I drifted away from them all, I’d still see them in the halls but we hardly ever talked anymore. I found out that there were certain boys that stayed seperate from the jocks, and their flocks, so I started hanging out with them. They didn’t really care about much of anything and for once I felt a tiny bit of what I thought was belonging. Of course I engaged in ridiculous dating charades where I was one of their girlfriends. We’d occasionally kiss and hold hands and that was it, and I thought it might finally look like I fit. But I still heard it, from time to time “HEY DYKE, ARE YOU A LEMON OR A LIME?” I’d just put my head down and hide. I’d hide behind my boyfriend who was sweet and kind and dopey and gentle, even though most days he kind of drove me mental.
One day there was a new guy at school, I saw him before roll call in the hall and thought he looked cool. Later that day in science, he was sitting opposite me, and I smiled, he smiled back. We’re still friends and it’s about fourteen years down the track - how did we get to that? Well…
The next time I came out it was to him, and he told me he was the same as me. Of course I chose to come out under the label of bisexuality, because I still thought guys were kind of cute and it provided me with a shield of a certain safety and half normality. He didn’t flinch or cringe or look at me with hate, he just said he was the same, and my shame started to deflate a little. I started to breathe full breaths for the first time in so long, and I started to believe maybe I wasn’t so fucking wrong.
The next time I tried to come out to somebody I was sixteen and it was my mother. I’d spent years in torture and isolation trying to figure myself out, who I really was, what it was all about. I told her I was bi and she was quiet for a while. After I prompted her for a response she said “but how do you know?” with a condescending smile. She told me I was young, and that I hadn’t even slept with anyone so how could I possibly know what I am?? Rage is the only thing I could feel at that stage, HOW COULD I KNOW WHAT I AM? The same way you knew you weren’t what I am, that’s how. I’ve spent years hating myself for being this way, and this is the stupidity I’m faced with now? Like I had just flippantly decided that I would announce something I wasn’t even sure of? I was floored, and thus thereafter the topic was purposefully ignored. The silence said all I needed to know, this was something I just wasn’t supposed to show, it’s just one of those things that was a no go. Certain people could be trusted with my secret, the thing that people didn’t seem to want to see, but I had to be very careful about who that would be.
So I shut it down and compartmentalised my difference and tried to survive. Three years went by before I opened that door again, to a trusted friend. I never intended to tell her, but she asked me in a way that seemed so tender, there were no teeth waiting to bite me, and even though it frightened me I told her. She didn’t even care, she was just curious, maybe she was questioning things in herself like some of us do. That was the first time I really knew that I wasn’t my shame and I wasn’t my pain and I wasn’t some thing to be hidden away. I decided then to be more open. To live authentically and do what felt right for me. But I still remained private about it unless asked explicitly - then I would answer as honestly as I knew how, because truthfully I’m still figuring all of it out. I’ve learned so much about diversity and gender and sexual identity and sometimes I find the right words that seem to fit, and other times the pressure of a label exhausts me and I get sick of it.
Sick of trying to classify myself under certain banners, sick of people asking things without any thought of manners.
I know on the grand spectrum of things I am not at all like them, I fall somewhere else along the Kinsey scale. Maybe that means in a way I fail the people like me, because I can’t cement things or write it in concrete and sign it to make it complete. Or that sometimes I still find myself in certain situations where I’m being discreet, holding my candour for fear of ramifications and slander. Maybe I’m not full of pride, maybe because for so long all I could do was hide. This makes me feel so guilty, I should be proud of who I am unapologetically! Not just for me but for the sake of visibility, so that maybe more people can see - we aren’t wrong, we don’t have any agenda other than to be able to be! Just to be; to live with an open vulnerability and tranquility and to be able to do it safely!! I’m sorry, that I could not join in on the pride but maybe you’ll know why; it’s hard to celebrate something that for most of your life you’ve had to justify to people, to justify to yourself, for most of your life you’ve carefully withheld.
— 

“Internalised Homophobia - Where Is My Pride?”

Pride month is such a wonderful thing and I know it is over now but it inspired me to share this. It’s intensely personal, not very well written and lengthy, but I wanted to be able to share some of my experiences regarding this topic. In no way do I speak for the whole LGBT+ community in this post and it’s simply a personal journey that I wrote out for catharsis. 

it gets harder to talk about but it gets easier to hold it in. to sit up prettier, to shut up louder, to pretend i don’t want you when all i want is to give in, to hold back the tears at the bar and release them once i get into my own bed, to pretend i want to exist. i want to exist. i want to exist. if i say it enough times, even i believe it. but suddenly, i’m a couple drinks in and i remember how unhappy i really am and everybody’s having fun around me but i can’t breathe anymore and my friend tells me i’m a wimp for never expressing my anger when the second i express it, there is always someone there to invalidate it. it’s getting easier to call myself crazy as an excuse for feeling, as if i’m not allowed to feel, as if this pressure build-up in my head is nothing but unequal brain chemistry, and everybody is so easy to brush off my emotions as being a product of mental illness instead of re-evaluating their own actions and wondering how in the world they could have made me feel this way.

so yeah, to say i’m mad is an understatement. to say i’m mad would even be lying. because it goes deeper than this feeling i experience once in a while, the real truth is that i’m sad and that sadness runs deep. i’m hurt. i feel like nobody even cares if they hurt me and the second i even suspect i am offending a stranger, i say sorry. but people run from me instead of apologize because their pride is more important than my feelings and it’s always been that way. i fall in love with anyone who shows me affection and people think it’s weird but when you’ve been deprived for so long from people who will listen, i don’t know, it’s hard. it’s still hard to believe that the second i start spilling my emotions, people talk over me. nobody wants to be with the person who brings up serious conversations at parties. nobody wants to be there for the girl who is always sad. everyone wants to pretend it doesn’t exist. and the more they pretend, the more i realize i’m getting good at this.

so i try to shut up until i can’t. like this time last year, i was showing up to your house to scream at you because i spent so much time holding everything in. but last night, i sent you fifteen text messages and deleted every one before i pressed send and i know no one’s gonna be there to congratulate me but maybe i can start being proud of myself because i don’t know how else i’m going to make this inadequate feeling end. you know, maybe i just have to keep trying things until i find something that works, maybe i just have to fly through boys until i find someone who isn’t gonna leave, maybe i just have to realize that the only person i’m ever going to truly have is me and i should stop holding people to impossible standards because they’re never going to live up to them and i’m always going to end up disappointed. nobody’s ever gonna care the way i want them to. it’s like i’m impossible to please. but god, i don’t know - i just wish for one second, someone would be excited about something because i am. be sad about something because i am. make me feel like my feelings affect others in some way. like they mean something. i’m growing so tired of the blank stares they give me.

i don’t know. maybe i’ve always asked for too much but i can’t remember the last time someone told me they loved me and if we’re being honest here: it’s devastating. i’m sad. i feel like i have nobody left. everyone likes me at first because i am so outgoing - i say what i’m thinking - but they leave soon after they realize that i am too much to deal with and they don’t really want to hear what’s in my head. they turn away because my insecurities make them nervous and who wants to deal with the girl who asks you if you hate them every five seconds? you say you don’t hate me but your body language tells me everything. i know i’m getting annoying but i can’t stop so i keep repeating it: i want to exist. i want to exist. i want to exist.

they say you’ve gotta let people in but the more i let people in, the more i regret it. i’m tired of silencing myself but it’s like the moments i’m silent are the only moments i’m not ruining everything.

—  I WANT TO EXIST. I WANT TO EXIST. I WANT TO EXIST. I’M NOT REALLY SAD. REMEMBER THIS.
Dating Bruce Wayne Would Include

(Btw I am using the Batman v Superman Bruce Wayne, y’all)

  • Not being entirely sure as to how it all even happened
    • On the off-chance that you’re one of Gotham’s minimal elite, you probably met Bruce at a charity gala and, for some reason beyond your comprehension, he picked you out of the other well-dressed women
    • In the higher likelihood that you don’t come from an affluent family, there’s a multitude of possibilities as to where you met: Maybe you were at a gala working as part of the catering company and he accidentally spilled red wine on you. Maybe you worked as an intern or temp or had a desk job somewhere in the Wayne Enterprise building in Gotham. Or maybe he just saw some assholes giving you a rough time and he stepped in and then offered to walk you home.

Keep reading

Your Girl

Hi babes! I know that it’s been a long time since I posted a writing, and for that, I’m sorry! But, to make it up to you, here’s a supa long oneshot that I really hope you enjoy! Anyways, this is about Tom and a very shy reader, who suffers from slight social anxiety. Tom keeps an eye on her because he knows how uncomfortable she gets in unfamiliar social settings with new people, and the pair begin to fall for each other! They go out to dinner with friends one night, and the reader ends up attracting some very unwanted attention and Tom gets very protective and then feelings happen and ??? I hope you like it!

Your Girl

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and then promptly fixing it back to it’s place directly over her eyes, she fussed about with slightly quaking hands. Gnawing on the inside of her lip, she rocked up and down on the balls of her feet, various unsettling scenarios bouncing through the expanse of her mind. The outlines of all the possibilities at hand were making her head spin. She’d been worried about them since she awoke that morning with the intent of traveling down to her local bookstore, allowing her anxiety to conjure up every alarming response that had the slightest half a chance of occurring.

    In the pit of her stomach, fear had poked it’s piercing talons through her skin, dragging up and down and forcing her tummy into knots. All she intended to do was ask a question about a book’s location in the store, but the reaction of the employee she’d be asking was filling her with a sense of dread. The girl understood that it was very likely the storekeeper would even bat an eye, too uninterested into their work to really do anything other than offer their assistance, seeing as she was a paying customer, but she was oh-so very nervous that they’d scoff in her face or roll their eyes. She even wondered if they were allowed to flat-out dismiss her.

    Logically, she understood that all of the rudeness she had created in her mind on the bookkeeper’s behalf were very unlikely reactions. But, the fact that they existed and could happen were enough to keep her inside, curled up in bed, staring longingly her shelf of finished novels.

    Now, she stood by the guidance desk, busying herself with glancing over the classic book corner of the store after she had forced herself up and out of her front door. Each time she psyched herself up to finally speak to the woman manning the desk, her courage evaporated as soon as someone else sauntered up to the counter to ask their question. The girl was so locked in her feelings of utter hopeless that she barely noticed the boy who wandered over to the opposing side of the bookshelf.

    Scrunching up her nose and groaning, she rounded the corner of the shelf to once again glance over the books whose author’s last names began with the letters A-L. She was so focused on forcing herself to speak that she walked straight into the young man’s surprisingly solid chest.

    “Shit, fuck, I mean shoot-” with her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel the british accent rumbling past his lips, “‘’M sorry that I ran into you, and I’m sorry for swearing. Are you alright, love?”

    She pried herself away from him and glanced up at him with strawberry-red flushed cheeks, and a bashful gaze, “yeah, no problem, totally on me, not you. Sorry I crashed into you, just wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her eyes flickered across the room, she didn’t want to appear psychotic for staring at him too long or anything like that. So far, she’d observed that the boy was very british, and very cute, which was making her stumble over her words more than she already was.

    The boy stared down at the girl in front of him, his brows puckered. She was lovely, and truth be told, he’d seen her circle the shelf about three or four times, and she was biting down on her lip so hard that he was beginning to fret that she’d draw blood. She seemed lost, or scared, either way, something was off with her, he could tell.

    “You’re sure?” He questioned, steadying her in place before him, “you look a bit frazzled.” The girl dropped her eyes to floor once more, her cheeks coloring growing darker than before, and he quickly opened his mouth to retract his previous statement, “no, no! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re still  disarmingly cute, it’s just that you seem a bit adrift. Do you need anything?”

    She opened and shut her mouth, cocked her head to the side and regarded him with the softest voice he’d ever heard, “Just trying to find a book is all, did you really n-,” she started before she cut herself off. She was working herself into a tizzy, first she nearly took a cute boy down, and then he’s complimenting her and asking if she needs anything. The girl was convinced that she could float up into the summer sky’s barely existent clouds and melt into the blue sky forever. Everything felt stupendously surreal.

    “Can I help you look or anything?” He offered, snapping her out of her daydream of evaporating into a mist and flitting around town as she pleased, “my name’s Tom.”

    Now, she was thoroughly convinced that the entire day was a massively wild reverie. Her mind pieced two and two together, and she became very aware that the boy who stood in front of her was no other than Tom Holland.

    “Wow,” she uttered, reaching out to tentatively poke him in the chest, “you’re you.”

    Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and giggled, a soft smile stretching across his cheeks. “Yes, that I am. And may I ask who you are?”

    She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and stated her name. If it turned out that she was dreaming, she was prepared to accept it wholeheartedly. If Tom Holland decided that he wanted to speak to her, and furthermore assist her in finding her book, than so be it. She was not going to allow herself to muck it all up by saying no, especially when his brown eyes looked so sparkly and kind.

    “Now, what is it that we’re looking for?” Tom questioned, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her away from the corner and up to the guest’s assistance desk.

    Ever since that afternoon, she and Tom were together, not romantically they claimed, but truly, all that was necessary for the pair’s connection to be deemed romantic was the pair’s confession to one another that they each desired more from their friendship. Tom paid extra attention to her, quickly figuring out that she was painfully shy and teetered away from social situations that frightened her. Tom had made it his mission to check up on her to make sure she was alright  and wasn’t being coerced into activities she didn’t wish to partake in.

    Tom had fell into the habit of ordering her food for her, asking questions for her at the store and keeping a watchful eye on anyone he felt could cause her harm. He was more than happy to help her, and it fueled his self-esteem when she would smile up at him and thank him for easing her anxiety. That was all Tom ever wanted to do.

    In return, she spent a fair amount of time looking after him in less obvious ways. When she felt as though he’d been eating too much takeout and deserved a nice home-cooked meal, she took it upon herself to prepare him one. She learned exactly how he liked his cups of tea, what kind of books he liked to nurture his mind with, and she even knitted Tom a beanie for when he would be away filming somewhere cold. Often times, the girl and Tom stayed up all night talking on the phone, or snuggled up together on the couch in her living room.

    “Darling,” Tom called out to her, “are you nearly ready?” He plopped down on the couch and began leafing through one of the novels that she had currently stacked on her coffee table. Tom hadn’t had as much time to read books, seeing as he was going through so many scripts, but he’d always found that her books enthralled him and would gently coax him back into the bookstore. The book he was currently turning over in his hands was a bright, proud, sunshine yellow. It’s title was printed across the page in red, block letters. “‘Sex and Rage?’” Tom smirked, already preparing to tease the girl he was waiting for.

    They’d been invited out to dinner with some of his castmates and a few other mutual friends, and the girl was presently rushing around her apartment in search of her favorite lipgloss and her purse.

    “I’m almost done, I promise!” Tom heard her muffled response, and then a second later he heard her utter a few choice curse words, prompting him to settle back against the couch because she was clearly not anywhere near being done. He kicked his legs up to balance on her coffee table and opened the novel by Eve Babitz and allowed her to take him all the way back to 1970s Los Angeles.

    After about fifteen more minutes, Tom looked up to find her stood in front of him, blushing profusely when she took note of the book in his hands. Raising his brows and grinning boyishly at her, Tom waved the novel her way. “Interesting choice of reading material, innit?”

    “I-,” she started, and then proceeded to open and shut her mouth, she chose to mumble, “shut up, Tom. It’s a classic.”

    “Yes, yes, love,” Tom said, “sex and rage are quite classic in LA.”  Tossing the book back into it’s proper place, Tom skimmed her frame up and down. “You look,” he almost lost his breath. She was clothed in a silky, sheer, polka-dotted dress, the ruffles dipping low and offering him ample view of the expanse of her chest. The dress’s hem was short and her legs looked just as silky soft as the fabric of her dress. Tom longed to press kisses all the way up from her ankles to above where her skirt ended. “Fucking amazing,” he finished, taking one her hands within his own to press a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. He had half a mind to propose they skipped the dinner all together. Tom didn’t want to share the vision of loveliness that she was with anyone else.

    She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she broke away to look directly into his eyes, “you look like every teen’s dream.” She laughed as Tom let out a chuckle underneath his breath. “Are you ready to go?”

    Tom stepped closer to her, winding a hand around her waist, “been ready, love. It’s you that I’ve been waiting for.” Which Tom thought was true, to be fair. The only reason that he hadn’t showered her in love and adoration was because he wasn’t absolutely positive that she’d want him too.

Although, she’d allowed him to kiss the back of her hand, and she kissed him on the cheek, what would be so different about Tom leaning down and angling her chin up towards him so he could press his lips against her own? But still, Tom waited. He needed to know that she felt the same for him. Tom refused to allow his feelings for her taint their friendship. He’d done everything he could to try and get her to pick up on his emotions, but he’d observed that they went right over her head. Unluckily for him, everyone else had been made well aware of the love Tom had for her. He prayed up to the high heavens that they’d go easy on them tonight.

After locking up her apartment with his own set of keys, and driving to the restaurant, Tom rushed around the side of the car of yank her door open and help her out. “Careful, m’love,” Tom muttered, taking both her hand and her waist in his hands, “don’t want you to slip.”

“Tom, I’m wearing heels, I’m not injured.” She giggled.

It was Tom’s turn to turn the same shade of red the ripe strawberries she’d given him for breakfast were, “I know, just don’t want you to slip is all.”

Together, they walked into the restaurant, Tom heading over to the hostess’s station to inquire about the whereabouts of their table while she strayed a little behind, choosing to stare at a painting that was hung in the foyer.

“Intricate, isn’t it?” An American male’s voice stated from behind her. When she whipped around to face him, she found that the man in front of her was a bit too close for her liking. So close to her that she felt as though the overbearing cologne the man had covered himself in had sprouted arms and was choking it’s way into her system.

“Yes,” she said, smiling as politely as she could. She peered around the man, trying to spot Tom to no avail.

The girl understood that under no circumstances did she owe this man anything, even a conversation, but she’d grown quickly timid of the way in which he leered over her.

“Waiting for anyone?” The man asked, stepping closer to her and turning his head to the side. When he smiled at her, she didn’t like it. This man’s smile wasn’t warm the same way Tom’s was when he directed it at her, and she could already tell that it wasn’t going to be followed up by a laugh. She knew it was wrong to compare every man that she came into contact with to Tom, but she couldn’t help it. He was everything she wanted and more.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” she lied, pink spreading across her cheeks. “He’s just making sure our table is ready.”

The man didn’t seem put off at all when she claimed to be there with her boyfriend, in fact, the smile he wore on his lips curled into a smirk, almost as if to say, “challenge accepted.”

“There you are darling!” Tom called, his brows nearly joining together when he saw the man stood in front of his girl. As he made his way over to them, Tom could practically hear the sigh of relief escape her lungs. Curling a protective arm around her waist, Tom came to a halt behind her and leaned down to pepper her neck with kisses. “Who’s this?”

Before she could even think of a response, the man introduced himself, “Luc. Nice to meet your girl.”

Tom narrowed his eyes, “yeah, my girl is very nice.” He tucked her beneath his arm and began leading her towards the door, offering a hasty, “our table is ready,” the man’s way, not bothering to listen for a response.

“What an absolute wanker,” Tom said loudly, unable to stop himself from saying that he thought so before they walked out of Luc’s hearing range, “alright now, love?” He shook his head and glanced back towards where the man stood, “didn’t like how he was looking at you. What right does he think he has? Fuckhead.”

She merely pressed a kiss to Tom’s jaw, “s’alright now. Don’t worry about it. Thank you for pretending to be my boyfriend, I think he’ll go away now.”

“I’ll be your boyfriend anytime you want.” Tom said, guiding her into the room in which their friends occupied.

After greeting their table, smiling and laughing and talking, the pair barely made it through the appetizers without the man, Luc, quickly becoming an issue once more. They’d learned that he too was apart of a rather large dinner party, so their tables were right smack next to each other. When she spotted Luc coming her way, she shrunk so noticeably back into Tom’s chest that Harrison, who was sat across the table from her, took notice too.

Tom scoffed, “for fuck’s sake. He’ll leave you alone darling, and if not, he and I shall be exchanging words outside.” Tom smoothed her hair down and kissed her temple.

“Well, that’s new.” Harrison stated, eyes blown wide open. “Are you two finally together now?” He asked, his comment quickly peaking the interest of the entire table.

“See,” she heard Laura chime in next to her, “told you they’d be official by now.”  

Jacob broke into a grin, “yeah, man! Knew your balls would drop sometime soon!”

She leaned back against Tom’s chest and whispered as quietly as she could, “should we go along with it?” She blinked up at Tom, who’s arm dropped from being wrapped around the back of her chair to securing her further into his side.

“Whatever you-,” his voice trailed off, “you’re joking?” She turned her head and was met with a waiter handing her a drink and pointing Luc’s direction, claiming that he’d bought it for her, and that there was more to come.

Tom pushed his chair out and angled his body towards Luc, “she’s not here with you, mate!”

“Unlikely that she’s here with you either, considering the fact that none of you friends seem to be aware of your relationship.” Luc smirked, tipping his own drink up towards his lips.

“What a tosser,” Harrison proclaimed loudly, already prepared to jump in on his friend’s behalf.

Tom was pulled away from the escalating conversation by an earnest tug on his shirt. “Tom, don’t! It’s not worth it, just ignore it and maybe he’ll go away. He’s trying to start something with you.” She advised, attempting to guide his gaze back to her.

“Bullshit,” Tom mumbled, “like fuck you aren’t worth it! You’re my girl and I’m not going to let him treat you like this.” Anger was seeping into his words and fogging up his mind, so Tom didn’t notice that he’d just uttered a very unfriendly statement her way.

“Tom,” she tried again, “it’s all pretend! It’s fine, just focus on me.”

“No, love. I don’t think you understand,” Tom sighed, focusing his gaze on hers once more. “It’s more than just pretend to me. I want you to be my girl and I feel like I’ve made it all painfully obvious, and you haven’t picked up on it, or reciprocated, or maybe you flat out ignored it. Which is fine, everything about that is fine. It’s just that I care about you and I’m not going to let some fucking dirtbag make you feel uncomfortable.” Tom raked a hand roughly through his hair, “shit,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes, “m’sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable too.”

“Kiss me.” She ordered, ushering Tom closer to her. Taking in his puzzled expression, she added, “kiss me, Tom. For real, please. Kiss me and I’m your girl. For real, not for pretend.”

Tom could hear Luc talking, Harrison retorting and Laura hailing a waiter to ask if there was anything to be done about the seating arrangements, but none of it was clicking in his mind. “What are you saying?”

“Look at me, Tom Holland,” he heard her say sternly. “Don’t let male ego get in the way of this. Don’t look at him, look at me. I wasn’t sure if you were telling me you wanted me, I thought that you were just being nice and you’re too important to me to lose, so I never questioned your intentions. I’m sorry for making you think that I was ignoring you, but I’m not anymore. Please, please kiss me.”

Tom’s head was spinning all across the room. He felt like he was upside down, underwater, sideways and more, but when she finished speaking, his head clicked back into place.

“Please,” she asked softly, tipping her head up towards Tom, who then surged forward, softly stroking over her cheeks and taking the time to carefully align her head with his to create the most perfect of first kisses he would swear anyone in the world had ever had.

A collective gasp fell across the table, and even Luc grumbled a distant, “what the fuck ever, bro. She’s not that cute anyways.”

When the pair broke apart, the first thing Tom could gasp out was, “now you’re my girl,” before quickly swooping down to conjoin their lips once again.


I Got You On My Mind [Part 3]

Jungkook Soulmate AU

[Part OnePrevious Part | Part Three | Next Part

Summary: Jungkook can feel when your entire world falls apart, and his shatters into a million more pieces.

Word count: 2k words

Originally posted by jungxook

JUNGKOOK’S POV

An immobilizing sense of panic shot through Jungkook, causing him to freeze. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and his vision became unfocused in his state of unadulterated fear. Immediately, Jungkook sensed that the sudden emotion was being transmitted through your soulmate bond, and soon fear wasn’t the only feeling Jungkook was contending with.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Jungkook thought helplessly. He moved through the crowd, leaving behind whichever girl he had been talking to, and tried to escape the confines of the party. The sense of panic he had been feeling had suddenly ceased, which was even more worrying. “Talk to me–are you alright? Fuck! Y/N!

By the time Jungkook reached the front door, he was covered in a sheen layer of sweat–in part from the heat of the party, and mostly because of his increasing worry. He burst through the door, lurching into the cool, night air.

“Y/N!” he bellowed, head swinging side to side as he searched for you. Cursing, Jungkook realized he had no idea where to even look. He couldn’t hear your thoughts, so relying on luck, he turned to his right and ran.

Jungkook sprinted down the empty road, his footsteps falling heavily and echoing through the silence. His lungs burned and his muscles ached, but the cold grip of fear around his heart kept him running.

In his mind, he could feel your presence slipping away. Even if you were silent, there was always a warm, comforting feeling of your presence. But now, it was being replaced with cold nothingness.

He prayed that you were safe–he knew that he had caused whatever had made you so panicked. Jungkook wished he could go back in time, stop you from leaving. Maybe even go back further, and stop you from hurting at all.

But he knew that it was useless to hope.

As Jungkook turned a corner, he was blinded by bright, flashing blue, red, and white lights. An ambulance was stalled in the middle of the road alongside a single car. Jungkook’s feet skidded to a stop as he stared at the scene unfolding before him.

“No,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Staggering forward, Jungkook’s eyes began to water with unshed tears. A man stood in his path, so Jungkook grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and spun him around. The man stared up at Jungkook, his eyes wide and his face pale. “What happened!?”

“T-there was an accident,” the man explained, his voice shaking. His eye’s darted to the right, so Jungkook’s followed.

On the ground, a girl lay sprawled on the cement in front of the parked car. Two paramedics were kneeling beside her, assessing her injuries as they prepared her body for the stretcher.

Jungkook knew immediately that it was you. His body moved forward on its own accord as Jungkook’s mind screamed.

“No,” he repeated, his voice becoming louder. It cracked as he spoke. The paramedics turned around, alarmed at the sight of the distressed boy.

“Sir, please stand back,” one of them said, standing up with his hands in front of him placatingly. “We need you to stay out of the way so we can get to the hospital.”

“She’s my soulmate!” Jungkook cried, surging forward to get closer to you. The paramedic sprung up, grabbing Jungkook by the shoulders and holding him back. “Let me see her! Is she alive? Oh god–tell me she’s alive!”

Jungkook’s hoarse cries filled the quiet night, his words becoming mangled together until they were indecipherable. Another pair of hands grabbed Jungkook and stopped him from struggling–he was pretty sure they belonged to the man who had hit you.

And god, Jungkook wanted to be angry with that man. He wanted to be furious. But Jungkook knew that everything was his fault. If you died, it would be because of Jungkook. The fight left him, and Jungkook crumpled to the ground.

Silent sobs wracked his frame as he kneeled, watching your lifeless body being whisked away on a stretcher into the ambulance. Sirens began wailing as the ambulance lurched to life, but to Jungkook, the sound seemed far away. He could only stare as the ambulance–as his soulmate–sped away into the night, disappearing into obscurity.

Jungkook’s mind was blank. He felt numb everywhere, he couldn’t even feel his own body. It was like he had slipped away and was watching himself from someplace else, wishing that what had happened wasn’t real.

He wondered if this was all just an elaborate nightmare. If, at any moment, he would wake up never having met you. That way, he had a chance to undo all the mistakes he had made. Jungkook wished that were true, but he knew better than to wish.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital,” the man from before spoke, his tired voice lined with guilt. “Don’t worry son, I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Jungkook felt himself being lifted, and he stood up shakily. The man led Jungkook into his car, struggling to get the large boy into the vehicle. They rode in silence to the nearest hospital, and by the time they arrived, Jungkook wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

-

Since he had arrived at the hospital, Jungkook had done nothing but stare at the walls in the hallway in front of him, waiting for you to exit the emergency room. After a few hours, your body was whisked away to an intensive care unit. Jungkook followed the line of doctors and nurses that wheeled you away, met by looks of pity.

The doctors tried to explain the extend of your injuries to Jungkook, but their words fell on deaf ears. All he could do was stare at you. You had been moved to a hospital bed, looking impossible small underneath thin, white sheets. There were cuts and bruises all across one side of your face. Like before, you were unresponsive.

Eventually, the room emptied out, and only you and Jungkook remained. He dragged a chair across the room, its legs squeaking against the cleanly polished tiles. Jungkook sat down beside your bed and did nothing but stare.

White walls and the scent of antiseptic surrounded Jungkook. His dark clothing was a stark contrast against all the white and pale grey around him. He hated everything about hospitals–they brought up so many terrible memories.

But for once, he was able to find comfort. The steady beeping of your heart monitor ignited a spark of hope within Jungkook.

From the night into the morning, nurses drifted in and out of the unit to check on you. They cast worried looks at Jungkook, who had not moved in several hours. One even tried to bring to bring him food, only to return an hour later and see it untouched.

People tried speaking to Jungkook again. He couldn’t bring himself to listen properly, but a few words lingered, like “serious head trauma” and “potential brain damage.” Those words echoed around in the background of Jungkook’s mind ceaselessly.

In the time Jungkook had spent watching you, he also had time to think. He tried to recall every one of your thoughts he had heard. Every conversation you had shared. It was impossible to reestablish them all–he had been listening to you for as long as he could remember.

In his life that had been filled with so many horrors and so much sadness, you were the one bright light in the darkness that surrounded Jungkook. And how, that light was so close to being extinguished. With nothing better to do, Jungkook whispered quiet confessions, hoping that even in your unconscious state, you would hear them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook whispered, his voice rough after everything he had put it through. “I’m sorry for everything–everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said. I never wanted to hurt you, never. You mean the world to me.”

He could feel his eyes begin to water, but in the sanctity of the empty room, Jungkook did not stop talking.

“I never thought we would meet so soon,” Jungkook confessed, tears slipping down his cheeks. He reached out for your hand, holding it carefully in his larger ones. “I wasn’t ready. Right now, I’m not…I’m not a good person. I wanted to change–become someone you could be proud of. But in the end, you already knew exactly who I was. I wasn’t ready to face you, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook kept talking, pouring his heart out to your unhearing ears. He spoke until his voice faltered and he had no more words to say. But even then, he knew it wasn’t enough. He would do anything to make you understand. He wasn’t sure if you could live not knowing if you would every forgive him.

Suddenly, in his clammy palms, Jungkook felt your hand twitch. His eyes widened and jumped to your face. Your eyelids were twitching as you roused slowly. Jungkook leapt to his feet and searched for the assistance button.

“Nurse!” he yelled, his voice cracking. He jammed the button frantically, unsure of what to do as you began to wake.

Jungkook watched in awe as your eyes opened slowly. You squinted into the bright light, your eyes darting around the room as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“What happened?” you croaked, your voice hoarse after almost a day of misuse. Your eyes moved to Jungkook who was standing beside you. “Why am I here?”

“You were in a car accident,” Jungkook explained softly, a sense of relief flooding through him. His soulmate was alive–everything was going to be alright. “You have a few injuries, but you’re going to be fine.”

“Oh…okay,” you replied slowly, still not understanding. “But why are you here? Where’s Jieun? Who are you?”

Jungkook’s heart stopped in his chest. Did you forget?

“Would you mind telling me the date?” Jungkook asked, sounding much calmer than he felt.

“It’s August 6th, I think,” you said after a moment. Jungkook stared, wide-eyed. You had completely forgotten the past three months. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“My name’s Jungkook,” he spoke finally, trying to keep his voice steady. “Y-you may have forgotten me, because of your injuries. But I’m your soulmate.”

“Really? My soulmate?” you repeating, squinting in disbelief. “But you go to my university. Why haven’t you said anything before?”

“We didn’t find out until recently,” Jungkook supplied with a small smile. A nurse burst into the room, gasping when she saw that you were conscious. She called for a doctor, but neither of you paid her entrance any mind.

“Wow,” you breathed, a huge smile lighting up your face. “I can’t believe I finally met you. And that I forgot everything. Will my memories come back?”

“Probably,” Jungkook said, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to be true. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together, so you’re not forgetting much.”

“Hey, how do I know you’re not lying?” you suddenly demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. It almost made him laugh, and it definitely made him smile. “What’s something only my soulmate would know?”

“When we were younger, we used to think of love songs,” Jungkook remembered suddenly. “You thought of Taylor Swift a lot. I sang ‘Marry Me,’ mostly.”

“Right, we did that,” you confirmed quietly, blushing at the memory. You looked up at Jungkook, your eyes wide and vulnerable. “So, we’re really soulmates. Wow. Do you…do you love me?”

“Yes,” was Jungkook’s immediate response. He realized, in all the times that he had actually spoken to you, that was the first time he had never lied.

Eventually, a doctor entered the room and began asking you questions. Jungkook stared from the sidelines as the examination progressed. The entire time, your eyes kept jumping to Jungkook’s, a bright blush on your face. Every time, Jungkook indulged you with a smile, but he could only wonder when this wonderful illusion would fall apart.

- Girl in Luv

Wow!! Part 3 already guys. Thank you so much for all the support 💛 I know this is like cliffhanger after cliffhanger, but I have PLANS. This story’s becoming a lot more complex than what I had imagined when I first began writing it, but I hope you guy still enjoy it. Tell me if you liked it, and let me know what you think is going to happen! So thanks again for all the love guys!!! Happy reading 🤓

3

So this handsome fellow is Peter Doyle, longtime partner of the great American poet Walt Whitman. He is often viewed as an enigmatic figure, but what we do know about him tells us that he was quite remarkable in his own right.

Pete was born in Limerick, Ireland, and came to the United States with his family when he was eight years old. After the death of his father, he worked hard to support his widowed mother and siblings. One of his brothers, Francis, became a police officer in Washington DC, where the family lived. Francis ended up fighting for the Union during the Civil War, while Pete served in the Confederate Army. He saw serious action and was wounded, discharged from the army, and promptly arrested when he attempted to go back to DC. He managed to get off the hook by claiming that, as an Irish immigrant, he really didn’t care one way or the other about Union versus Confederacy. True or not, this worked, and he was freed.

It was at this point that Pete took a job as a horsecar conductor. In the nearly empty streetcar, on a stormy night in early 1865, Pete met Walt Whitman. Pete as 21 at the time, while Walt was 45. According to the younger man, it was pretty much love at first sight. “We understood,” Pete said. Walt was the only passenger on the streetcar, and he didn’t get off at his planned stop. Instead, he rode with Pete until the end of the route, at which point the two men spent their first night together.

They were inseparable for the next seven or eight years. They’d often go for long walks together, with Walt reciting poetry or passages from Shakespeare. I am 100% not making this up.

And their letters. Oh my God, their letters. Not many of Pete’s to Walt survive, but Walt’s to Pete are so full of love that they’d melt the coldest heart. A sample quote: “My darling, if you are not well when I come back I will get a good room or two in some quiet place, and we will live together and devote ourselves altogether to the job of curing you, and making you stronger and healthier than ever. I have had this in my mind before but never broached it to you.”

As this excerpt implies, Walt very much wanted to make a home with his young partner. Sadly, this would never be possible. Pete, as the oldest unmarried son, saw it as his duty to provide for his mother and siblings. They – and the society in which they lived – had certain expectations. While Walt was on good terms with Pete’s family, getting them to accept wholeheartedly this same-sex relationship was an entirely different matter. The two men had to do with spending nights together.

Pete was definitely a tremendously positive influence on Walt and his work. He persuaded Walt to delete three poems dealing with themes of despair and unrequited love from the 1867 edition of Leaves of Grass. He may have also influenced one of his partner’s best-known works, “O Captain! My Captain!” The tone deals with the death of Abraham Lincoln and the end of the Civil War. It is unusual amongst Whitman’s works because it is rhymed, rather than written in free verse. Walt noted that Pete had quite the rhyming ability, often rattling off charming limericks. Also, some have argued that the metaphor of the ship on the rough sea is a kind of nod to Pete’s immigrant background.

The young immigrant was also an eyewitness to the greatest tragedy of the day. He was in the balcony of Ford’s theater on the night of April 14, 1865, when Lincoln was assassinated. He recounted hearing the shot, and then seeing Booth leap onto the stage. Later, Walt drew on this account as a source of information for his annual Lincoln lectures. And he wouldn’t have heard any of it, if it weren’t for his boyfriend!

Walt suffered a stroke in 1873, and moved to Camden, New Jersey, to live with his brother. He ended staying there until his death in 1892. Pete was unable to find work in Camden, though he did eventually get a job in Philadelphia. They saw each other only sporadically, and at one point Walt had gone so long without hearing from Pete that he thought the younger man had died. He hadn’t, but he was put off by the presence of a housekeeper and other caretakers in his partner’s house. He stayed away, for fear of rousing suspicion as to the true nature of the relationship. After Walt’s death, Pete expressed regret for his hesitation.

In 1897, Pete allowed Richard Maurice Bucke (Walt’s literary executor) to publish the letters written by Walt to Pete. The result was a book called Calamus. No one who read it would have any doubts as to the nature of the love between these two men. It made Pete the black sheep of his Catholic family, and his sister forbade the reading of the book in her house. I think we have to give the man some serious props here. It had to take a hell of a lot of courage to let something like that hit the presses in the 19th century. Maybe he was proud of himself, his partner, and their relationship, and saw no shame or sinfulness in any of it. I sincerely hope that this was the case, and that there was an element of defiance of social and religious norms that went into the publication of Calamus.

Pete remained a member of the “inner circle” of Whitman devotees until his own death in 1907. He is buried in DC’s Congressional Cemetery. His grave marker is a short walk from that of Leonard Matlovich, which famously reads, “they gave me a medal for killing two men, and a discharge for loving one.” Nowadays, Peter Doyle is usually included on history tours of the cemetery which focus on LGBT figures.

Excellent work has been done by Whitman scholars in order to rescue Pete from the shadows of history. We are beginning to understand just how much he influenced Walt, and what a fascinating man he is. “Pete the Great,” as he liked to call himself, is an enigma no more.

And now, to finish off this already very long post, a quick guide to the photos:

Top: Pete aged about 25 years, taken in 1868. Cool hat.

Middle: Pete aged 57, taken circa 1900. Cool mustache.

Bottom: Pete and Walt, circa 1868, ridiculously in love. This might be my favorite historical photograph of all time.

A dog person - Young!Sirius x Reader

Warnings : nope, maybe the GIF that personally makes me weak

Words : 2.8k

Request : yes

Note : it’s the imagine that I wrote a few days ago and that was deleted somehow, I’m sharing it again now. I know some people had the same request but anywayyyyy (thank you to the ppl who told me to post it again btw❣️). I just imagined a Patronus for Pettigrew, don’t mind it if it bothers you. I loved this request and got a bit carried away, it was just so damn cute.


Originally posted by bentbarnes


Even at Hogwarts everybody hated monday mornings, as they symbolized the end of the weekend, the return in class and especially, implied a lot of exhaustion. In fact, everybody except the 6th years, because to them Monday morning meant Defense Against the Dark Arts. Here you were, at your usual seat next to the wall on the first row. The classroom 3C had probably the biggest windows out of all the Turris Magnus, unfortunately you were too short to observe the view -everybody was- but you still tried to take a look everytime. You were on tip-toes, taking advantage of the fact that your teacher had not yet arrived to make another attempt.


« You know Y/N, I really enjoy the view you’re offering me when you stand up like this in front of me, but I think you should just sit down as our dear Professor is here. » whispered Sirius behind you. Your cheeks turner red as you did what he said, sighing in exasperation and trying to focus on the tall man standing in front of the class. Sirius knew his little seduction game made you feel a bit flustered and that was exactly why he liked doing it so much, he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, he was only joking and you knew it. Out of the four Marauders, you spent most of your time with him or Remus, who actually introduced you to the others after meeting you at the library.


« Today I will try, and please notice that I said try, to teach you something that I know most of you have been waiting for. » said your teacher solanemly, holding his hands together behind his back. « The majority of witches and wizards are not able to produce it for it requires patience, concentration and determination. You probably guessed it already, I am talking about the Patronus charm, one of the most powerful defensive charms that exist.»


Immediatly, everybody started to whisper enthousiasticly to their neighbors, and even Lily who usually was the definition of the model student seemed hysteric. You smiled when you saw her, her dazzling hair flying in the air while she turned around towards the boys, already beginning to discuss on the shape their patronus would take. James had already managed to produce one and it was a deer just like his animagus. He could be turbulent, sometimes even insolent, but nobody could deny that he was an incredibly talented wizard just like Remus who was sitting next to him. Strangely, he stayed away from the general euphoria which spread in the class, playing almost nervously with his hands. You frowned, ready to ask him what was going on when your teacher knocked two times on the desk with his fists. The noises stopped and everybody looked at him once again.


« To produce a Patronus, it is necessary to concentrate on your most beautiful memory, and only this one. Find the memory that warms your heart the most and say clearly, wand in hand : expecto patronum. » Suddenly, a silver eagle flew from his hand and in the classroom. It was both beautiful and captivating. « This requires training, today we shall satisfy us with approaching the theoretical side of it and in the next class, I hope that you will be ready. Just know that it is difficult to obtain a corporeal patronus, and that its purpose is not to be beautiful, but to protect you from Dementors. Whether it is a rat, cat or lion, its power will be the same : the partonus is a shield, a messenger and a protector. »


He kept speaking during the whole following hour, adding that even if the animal shape the Patronus took did not define its strenght, it could mean something important for the wizard. Leaving the class everybody had only an idea in head : discover what their patronus was. The four boys, Lily and you had mutually decided to train together by the lake this afternoon. But right now you were going to eat, Sirius and James led the group speaking loudly and walking way too fast. Behind and standing by your side, Lily seemed to explain to Peter the details he had not understood. You left them silently to join Remus who walked at the back, alone, head low and dragging his feet. He raised his head when he saw you were waiting for him and turned the gentle smile you were giving him back to you. Interlacing your arm in his, you jumped at the opportunity to be alone with him to ask him what was wrong. Remus sighed, he seemed embarrassed and you strated to worry. He looked around to be sure no one was listening and then he bent a little towards you.


« I’m afraid my corporeal Patronus gives too much away, if you know what I mean. I already tried with James and it almost worked, and I swear I saw a long hairy tail before the light went off. » He whispered, biting his lip « With you guys it doesn’t matter, but if anyone else sees it… » He didn’t finish his sentence but you knew what he meant. Remus had always suffered because of his lycantropia, his parents and him had a nomadic life before he came to Hogwarts thanks to Dumbledore. Everytime someone started to be suspicious, they left and the little Remus never got to make friends. Even now that he had friends, really good ones, he was still afraid someone would found out. Taking his hand in yours, you squeezed it gently so he knew he wasn’t alone and you were here for him.


« We can practice alone another day if you want to be sure, you don’t have to do it today if you don’t want to. »

« I think that’s a good idea, thank you Y/N. »



Around 4pm, you sat in the green grass which lined the lake, between Sirius and Peter who seemed strangely concentrated into tearing away the petals of a flower one by one. You turned around towards Sirius who was already looking at you. You felt your cheeks burn a little when he did not look away which made him laugh, revealing his white teeth and his dimples.  He was a handsome young man, really, and you never knew if you just found him attracive or if it was something more. Anyway, you came back to reality when James showed up, back from his Quidditch session. A proud smile could be seen on his face as per usual, and it grew even bigger when a bunch of Gryffindor girls passing by stared at him like he was a piece of art, or a piece of meat. It always made Sirius giggle but Lily just rolled her eyes every single time.


« Did you mess your hair up on purpose again just so you can look like some Quidditch rock star ? » suggested Remus, looking quite amused. 

« You’ll be authorized to criticize my hair when your furry little problem will be solved, Moony chéri. » teased James, winking before he spoke again while turning around « Let’s get started folks, why don’t we let the Lilliputian try first. »


Eveybody laughed, James flirting with Lily was the funniest thing ever, especially when he came up with these strange nicknames but you had to admit that for once it wasn’t so bad. She stood up, pointing her wand towards him which caused him to slightly move to the side.


« In fact I’m two months older than you Potter, show me some respect. » Remus, Peter and Sirius giggled while James seemed outraged, but before he could come back with anything Lily exclaimed, her wand pointing to the sky « Expecto patronum ! »


You held your breath just like the others while slowly but very clearly, from the tip of her wand, a bright silvery light started to burst before fading out. She tried again multiple times with James giving her advices and finally, a tall and gracious doe was running in the air, following the rythm of Lily’s laugh. Her green eyes were wide opened, she seemed proud and happier than ever. You all applauded, Peter even took a bow.


« It’s strange, isn’t it ? Your patronus is a doe and Potter’s one is a deer. If it isn’t a sign, I don’t know what it is. » teased Sirius, winking to Lily. Her cheeks turned bright red before she exlaimed « Simple coincidence, that won’t make me go out with you any sooner Potter. »


Finally you formed little groups, James and Lily stayed together, Sirius was with Peter and Remus with you. This way, the others didn’t pay attention to the fact that Moony wasn’t really trying to practice and he was pleased about it. You tried to remember all the informations your teacher gave you this morning, and took a deep breath. You hoped it would work but as Lily said again and again, it was a difficult spell and it was normal if you didn’t succeed on your first tries. For what felt like an hour you persisted, repeating the two little words again and again, sometimes managing to produce a little shiny light at the end of your wand. But no animal, nothing. Frustrated you sighed noisily, which caught the attention of Remus, Sirius and Peter. The two others seemed too busy arguing about who-knows-what, and anyway they did not really need to practice anymore. Seeing your disappointment, Sirius smiled softly before suggesting to the boys to train together and that he would help you. After all if that did not work so well that way, you could try.


« I can’t do it either, you know. Maybe it’s because you distract me. » he suggested, teasing you once more with a grin on his face.

« That’s not funny Sirius. » you whined, a pout on your lips.


He looked at them for a bit too long before coming back at your eyes. Finally he stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. You were thankful he was behind, at least he couldn’t see your burning cheeks but it wasn’t finished yet because you could now feel his strong hand taking yours, holding your wand with you while the other one was placed on your hip. Your heart was racing and you were probably shaking too because he laughed soflty, speaking soflty.


« Maybe you’re not thinking about your happiest memory. Close you eyes, the first one to come to your mind is probably the good one, focus on it. »


Even if his body pressed against yours and his breath crashing on the thin skin of your neck did not help you at all, his soft and low voice was relaxing and you now thought of nothing else. You no longer heard the sound of the wind in the trees, nor the murmur of the water of the lake, you did not see your friends staring at you a little farther : it was his voice and his body near you that occupied all your mind. You closed your eyes as he had suggested, and with trembling lips you pronounced the two words « Expecto patronum. » You opened your eyes slowly, just in time to see a magnificent light spraying out, more powerful than what you had managed to do until then. It grew larger, Sirius’s hand still held yours and guided the movements of your wand.
After a few seconds, you saw it. In front of you stood a brilliant, tall and perfectly formed dog. But it was not a common dog, you had seen this one several times already and you recognized it immediately. You understood that Sirius did too when you felt his fingers release your hand smoothly and his body move back slowly. Your concentration broke and the big dog disappeared. You did not dare to turn around, both shocked and mute, because you finally knew what your patronus was. And it was him. It was Padfoot.



You stood there, sitting on your bed without knowing what to do or even what to think. After the events of the afternoon you quickly ran away, stammering that you did not feel well and that you were going to rest. But everyone had seen the same thing as you, and everyone knew that your patronus was none other than Sirius Black himself, or at least his animagus form. You tried to convince yourself that it was just a simple dog, but you knew what you saw. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe it did. It probably did. Sirius and you had been friends for years and even though he liked to tease you all day long, it had never been more than a platonic relationship. As you kept thinking about this, images started to come to your mind. The day you met, how funny you found him, yet annoying. The first time you sat together in class, and how you spent the hour drawing stupid things on each other’s books. That time in 4th year when he punched a guy who insulted you, and definitely got a detention for it. When one of his pranks hurt you and he brought you chocolate and flowers to make it up. The time he hugged you so tight after Gryffindor won the house cup that you thought he was going to choke you. Maybe he wasn’t just a friend after all, and it took you a couple of years and a patronus to realize it. A knock on your door made you lift your head up, the person did not let you any time to answer and entered the room.


« Can I come in ? » asked the black haired boy.
« A bit too late to ask, isn’t it ? »


Sirius did not answer, he just closed the door leaving you both alone in the dorm. He sat next to you, your knees barely touching, but not a word was said. You looked at the floor for a few seconds before you saw him turning his head to you from the corner of your eye. Slowly, you looked at him too, your heart skipping a beat when you met his dark grey eyes.


« Why did you leave earlier ? You missed something, we learnt that Peter’s patronus is a mole. »
« You know why I left. » you said, smiling slightly at the end.
« You don’t have to be embarassed about it. » he shrugged « But I have to admit that I thought it would be something else. »
« Like what ? »
« A penguin. »


You scoffed, clearly not especting that answer. Sirius looked at you curiously, he didn’t seem to understand why you were chuckling but he still smiled when he heard your laugh.


« What ? They’re cute and funny, everyone likes penguins. » he smirked.
« Nope, you’re probably the only person to fancy penguins that much. »
« Well I don’t try to hide it. You shouldn’t either. »


His last words were whispered in your ear before he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. You knew what he meant, and you couldn’t act as if the butterflies flying in your stomach weren’t here. He bent down to give you another kiss, on the cheek this time, but the weight of his body made you both fall back on the bed. You laughed as he found himself lying on top of you and for the first time since you met him, you saw a light shade of red on his cheeks. You stayed like this before he kissed your forehead, and then your nose. You smiled and he looked at your lips, and back at your eyes again. Your hands made their way to the back of his neck as he brushed your lips with his own, without ever pressing them together. Your heartbeating probably echoed throughout the entire room, or maybe it was his own. He smirked again when he saw the look full of frustration and desire you gave him, biting his lip and kissing the corner of your lips and then your cheek, before whispering in your ear again.

« I always knew you were a dog person. »

And after that he finally pressed his lips against yours, tenderly, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

porygons  asked:

Why do you think it's ok to use queer as a blanket term? As a bi trans person I find it incredibly hurtful and offensive

Do you really want to know my answer? Like seriously, are you actually open to listening to what my answer may be and absorbing any new information I may offer on the topic?

Because from here it doesn’t seem like you are. 

Let’s be honest with each other, you started out with the phrase “why do you think it’s ok” which is aggressive language, and then you justified your disagreement with your identity. Which I always found to be an interesting tactic, because when this clarification exists in an argument it assumes that by having this particular set of identities you are somehow more qualified to discuss this problem than someone else, while at the same time personalizing you so it is harder for anyone to disagree with you.

You then use the words hurtful, and then offensive. Both button words that illicit a certain type of response, hurtful in how inarguable it is. That is your feeling and I would never argue what a stranger is feeling to them. Then there is offensive, which is a word that is very well used in the LGBT+ community to discuss important issues surrounding our dehumanization. 

I don’t think that this message was a carefully crafted masterpiece of debate and trickery that you spent hour figuring out the direct phrasing of obviously, but I do think you had an intent when you wrote this message and the words you chose make that intent clear. 

You don’t want to talk to me. Hell I doubt you even follow me. I have anonymous turned off on my ask box, but I am almost 100% sure that if I didn’t you would be sending this under the little sunglasses wearing icon.

Also if you checked my FAQ you would have found a helpful little link explaining to you my views on the queer discourse. You may have noticed that I have my own reasons why I decide to use that word, and my own history with it. You probably also would have seen my post saying that I don’t mind people disagreeing with me. Or you could have seen that I have a link set up that blocks the word from all my content so no one has to see it if they don’t want to, and they can still have access to the history that I give insight into. 

But you didn’t care about that did you? Because you aren’t actually interested in what I have to say, if you were you would have already seen all of this and you would have seen my request for people to stop asking me to drag out my arguments for why I use the word again and again. You probably would have realized that either A) it is a lost cause so why bother B) that I have nothing left to say on the matter that I haven’t already said and you may have respected my professional boundaries enough to leave it alone.  

But here we are, you uninformed and angry, and me annoyed and tired. We aren’t going to have a good dialogue, and I am near certain you wouldn’t have accepted one if I offered it. You are not here to change my mind, because I have to assume that you at least did a basic check to see that my entire project has the word queer in it and it is pretty clear that isn’t changing. And you are also not here to have your mind changed. 

And to be honest I have no desire to change your mind. I don’t mind people disagreeing with me on this. It actually isn’t that big of a deal to me if someone doesn’t agree with my viewpoints all the time. 

I have read a lot of arguments in favour of removing the word from our lexicon completely. I disagree, but I understand them. As I have said before, this isn’t a huge dividing point for me. 

I have given people access to my work without the word queer in it, and that is the extent of what I am going to do here. 

So why are you sending this in? Nothing is going to change from it, and honestly it is a pretty boring message so I can’t believe you thought something would.

I think the sole reason you sent this was performative. 

You wanted to show that you tried to convince that big mean queer person without actually trying to convince them. Maybe this was a performance; for your followers, maybe you will screenshot my response and share them in a group chat. Or it is also possible this is a performance for yourself, maybe you want to convince yourself that you are doing something. 

Maybe you feel ineffective or like you need to make a difference so you are sending this message to me to feel proud of yourself for trying to change something that you don’t like. 

But you aren’t doing this to actually do the hard work of changing something. 

And it is fine if you aren’t able to do that work for any reason, but leave other people out of your sense of inadequacy. I am not here to be your punching bag that you hit so you can feel big and strong.  

I am tired, and I am bored of people sending me this performative garbage.

Which of course lends itself to the question, why am I answering this publicly?

I will admit there is a little bit of performance from my side as well, I want people to see how right I am and how much this behavior sucks. I want people to see me destroying this ask, and I am not going to lie I am totally going to send screenshots to the group chat.

What makes us different, is that I didn’t seek this performance out. I clearly did not send this to myself, and I haven’t made a post about the queer discourse in months. Which means, this person had to search for me so that they could get mad at me. Whereas I just had to check my inbox this morning and respond to what was there.

But outside of the performance of it all, I want my answer to sit with you for a couple of days. I don’t care if I change your mind about the queer discourse because honestly I do not care about the queer discourse. But I do want to change something. I want you to stop sending asks like these, because this doesn’t seem like it is your first. 

And if you were just sending them to me I would be fine with it. I can delete asks, and they roll off my back if I decide to let them. But not everyone is like that. 

I could now give a rant about the little baby queers I am protecting, but it is not just about them. It is about all of the people you send this kind of thing to (who almost certainly don’t deserve hate mail), whether they are affected deeply by it or not it doesn’t make what you are doing any better. 

And if me writing this long message publicly makes it less likely for you to send something like this again, then it is worth the five minutes I have spent crafting it. Because if you are a little more self conscious about doing something like this again, then hopefully I will have spared a couple of people the annoyance of having to deal with this kind of garbage message. 

Here Are My Colors

Anthony Ramos x Reader

Requested: anthony x reader where reader is anthony’s longterm girlfriend who stuck with him through him never being home, missing out on date nights for rehearsals & performances, & really through everything together. when the show hits broadway, anthony starts staying waaay later than he has to @ the theatre & on readers 3 year anni with him, he insists he has to stay late at the theatre when they already had plans together & reader discovers it was just bc he wanted to hang out with jasmine

Words: 6,149 (i get it man, I’m so extra)

Warnings:  swearing, cheating, AND angst, SO much angst, I’m sorry

A/N: I WANT TO DEDICATE THIS FIC TO THE MOST AMAZING PERSON, ELL @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky. THANK YOU FOR LOOKING OVER THIS & FOR LITERALLY MAKING ME LAUGH & SMILE EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY. I LOVE YOU & I APPRECIATE THE SHIT OUTTA YA GIRL. Y’ALL GO CHECK HER OUT, SHE SLAYS THE GAME EVERYDAY.

ALSO, I have no words as to how PROUD I am of this fic, it’s UNREAL. It took me so long to write and I love it, it’s basically my child. PLEASE ENJOY.

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The King (NSFW)

Originally posted by fitzi-the-nerdy-girl

T’Challa x Reader

Summary: sugar daddy, art collector King T’Challa, I think that about sums it up. Inspired by THIS post.

Warnings: smut

A/N: So yet again, I have not done any of the 12 requests in my inbox. Sorry guys, just feeling a little selfish/selif indulgent as of late. Also this fic is around 3.1K words so it’s pretty long, just a heads up.


You meandered around the room, admiring the art on the walls as your heels clicked lightly across the floor. You were so proud of the work you had done to get this art exhibit up and ready in such short time. It wasn’t every day you got call from the King of Wakanda asking your museum to showcase his personal art collection so your bosses were up your ass to ensure everything was perfect, and it was. 

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Good F*ck

SUMMARY - You tell about your frustrations about not ever having good sex to Nat and Wanda and Bucky overhears .

WORDS- 1.8K(approx)

A/N - Taw @supersoldierslover I love you . Thank you so much . 

WARNINGS- cursing , dirty talk, fingering , unprotected sex (just use a fucking condom pls) also very sexual gif of lance tucker below(definitely a warning).

Originally posted by blurredmelancholy

“Fuuuck….” , you groan hitting your head lightly to the coffee table but enough to get your friends Nat and Wanda to notice you .

“What is it now? “Nat asked nonchalantly , used to your sudden outburst of frustration .

“I just…I… I feel empty.” You say looking helplessly at the two of them .
Both their expression changed to one of sympathy .

“Y/N , I understand . I feel that way too sometimes . With the job we have we are….”Wanda starts before you interrupt her .

“Nooo , you don’t understand . That’s not what I am trying to say .I just …” You throw your hands in the air and let out a whine.

“What is Y/N?”  Nat asked a little irritated.

“I just need to be dicked okay . Like fucked so good that I see the fucking stars and pass out . Arghhh!!!!!”

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for you final [m]

Pairing: Jin x reader x Taehyung

Genre: badboy!Taehyung

Word Count: 5,723

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking

A/N: I have been really sentimental today and have also been lying through my teeth about when I would upload this. Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I may or may not have sobbed while writing this. And I may or may not be willing to write an epilogue. Thank you for the past 7 months of support you’ve shown this series. I hope the ending doesn’t disappoint.

originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Momo almost screeches as you step out of the front seat of Mina’s car.

“Thank god,” you retort as you smooth your hands over your irritated stomach, “I don’t think anyone’s driving has ever made that car sick before.”

“Hey!” Mina protests as she pulls your bags out of the backseat, “I got us here over an hour earlier than the GPS predicted.”

Momo snorts as you shoot a glance at your speed demon best friend, “I think I have some ginger tea somewhere in my apartment. We can make you some to settle your stomach.”

“You don’t. The only thing you have in this apartment is potato chips and pig’s feet,” Sana teases as she joins all of you on the driveway of Momo’s complex.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit as you wrap your arms around your two best friends, “Please don’t leave me alone with her for that long.”

“I heard that,” Mina hisses as the car door beeps as it locks.

Sana doesn’t let go of your shoulders as all four of you proceed into Momo’s apartment, “It seems like we have a lot to catch up, but do you want to shower first? You smell.”

You sniff you armpits, “I do not!”

“That’s because you can’t smell yourself,” she gently pats your back as she barely shows your around the apartment before she is shoving you into the bathroom and turning on the shower, “We can go to dinner once you’re ready.”

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flower boy asks 🌻

foreword: what’s your favorite late night drive destination?

where this flower blooms: 3 things that make you feel pretty

sometimes…: what song describes you best?

see you again: have you ever had your heart broken?

who dat boy: 3 words to describe yourself

pothole: long drives or long walks?

garden shed: what’s your go to hiding place?

boredom: do you get energy from being by yourself or being with others?

i ain’t got time!: when do you feel most confident?

911/ mr. lonely: do you believe in soulmates?

droppin’ seeds: favorite flower?

november: describe your happiest memory

glitter: who was the first person that made you feel important?

enjoy right now, today: what are you most looking forward to?

bonus: what’s your favorite track on scum f🌻ck?

A cat person - Sirius Black x Reader

Request: DAMN I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS! Can I request a Sirius x reader where he finds her as animagus (cat) and become super close and always tries to take her to his room and class and everywhere but like.. she can’t and one day decides to tell him?❤️❤️ 

Yayyy!
Warnings: Um, I don’t really know. My English, not that great?
Image and Gif aren’t mine. Credits to their original owners.
Masterlist

You had finally achieved the transformation.

You had tried for months, followed every step. Of course, nobody knew. You, however,  had guessed that McGonagall was an exception.
You had to keep a leaf of a Mandrake in your mouth for an entire month and you could honestly say that it sucked. You weren’t able to speak or eat properly and even the last person that you talked to was worried that something was wrong. Lily had even insisted for you to visit Madam Pomfrey. But you managed to escape that. She would know instantly.
Another bummer was that you couldn’t choose your animagus form. If you could, you would very much like to be a lion or a tiger or even a cat. You knew that your form would represent your personality and you liked to think that you, just like a cat, can show all the affection in the world if someone had earned it but was independent and very well self-sufficient. And it was cute.
You had read that your animagus form and your Patronus could be the same. There was an exception, though. Your Patronus could change- so it would represent the soul of your significant other. You didn’t know your Patronus yet but you were quite positive that it would reveal your long-time crush on a certain raven-haired, gray-eyed boy. The crush was formed the very moment you laid eyes on him. But you were not that great when it came to actions. You just sat back while he slept with everyone. Literally everyone. But you didn’t do anything. What could you do anyways?
 So, here you were. Your first transformation.
You felt dizzy-like you had been drinking for a while. Kind of light headed. You looked down. Paws? Small paws? You wanted to squeal in happiness and excitement but all you managed to do was meow.
“Aren’t you adorable?”. Wait. What? You stopped walking because two strong hands picked you up, gently. You wanted to tell them to put you back down that instant but again, you just meowed.
He laughed. Oh, no. You knew that sound. You knew that laugh. Just your luck.
“Fiesty. But adorable” he continued, slightly petting your head, his slender fingers going through your fur. You purred before you could stop yourself. You must have been tiny for him to carry you in his palms.
“How did you end up here, alone?” he asked you and you felt the urge to facepalm. You moved your paws in a way that revealed your annoyance. He smiled and you felt yourself melting under his touch. But why was he outside that late?
“You need a name, don’t you?” he said softly. Not that you didn’t like him being there or that you were complaining. You leaned your head to his fingers. That was all it took. His smile dropped.
“Care to listen?” he simply asked you, his voice strained of happiness. You meowed. He remained still for a moment. You nudged him with your head.
“I have to be in my dorm and you are coming with me”. Was he insane? He was talking to a cat. Did he expect an answer? He chuckled.

His friends were fast asleep and you felt really bad for him. He truly needed someone to listen. He plopped down onto his bed, softly placing you onto his lap. You nuzzled him and purred, rubbing your head against his stomach. He was petting you like it was calming him down.
“Alright, tiger. Here is the deal…”Tiger? Really, tiger? He started telling you about his life and his family and even you wouldn’t call those people family; how he was treated and how he reacted. Eventually, he admitted that he wasn’t carefree and that it hurt him when he was disowned because after all, he was their son, their blood and you saw how hard it was for him. He tried to play it off but you just gave him a sympathetic look and bit his fingers playfully. What did I just do?
You spent all night with him-in your animagus form, of course. At some point he fell asleep, his hands still petting you. You felt torn. You wanted to stay but you had to -
To hell with it.
You carefully moved near his head, curled up in a furry ball and fell asleep. You wanted to show him that someone did care.


That had been going on about a month now. You were staying all night with him and once he got out of the room for breakfast you’d run like hellfire was coming your way. Just to make it in time. The last couple of days though, he had tried to carry you to class with him. Something that was impossible. You would miss the class and all of the professors would know that you were an illegal animagus. Neither were things you were looking forward to.
He, however, had managed to do it yesterday.

You were extremely uncomfortable. You hadn’t managed to stop him from carrying you to McGonagall’s class.Out of all of your professors, it had to be the other cat animagus. You knew she knew the moment she saw you. She smiled to herself.
“Mr. Black what on earth are you carrying?” she questioned him but her voice wasn’t stiff. She actually enjoyed it.
“My cat. Meet Tiger. Tiger, meet Minnie” he proudly introduced you. You were thankful that animals don’t blush.
“Your..cat?” she raised an eyebrow in question. Sirius grinned like a mad man.
“I adopted her” he answered, thinking that Minnie would be proud. And she was. But for a different reason. She just gave him a pointed look and walked away.
“I am not sure you want that kind of relationship with her” she whispered under her breath but you heard it.

You walked into his room. A cat. A cat walked into his room. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that all he ever saw was a cat.
You had learned that he was an animagus too- a black dog, which was the biggest irony in the world- as well as Remus’ secret. Not that you didn’t suspect it earlier. His words came as a confirmation.
He was already inside, looking kind of mad.
“You sneaky little Tiger” he said in a mocking way, pointing you-the cat. You furrowed your eyebrows, wait-not yours per say. You waltzed all the way to him, jumped on his bed and made yourself comfortable on his lap. You gave him a puzzled look or at least that was what you were aiming for. You meowed in protest when he removed you from his lap and almost scratched him.
“You haven’t let me impress her! She is never around when you are. Let me take you to her. PLEASE” he exclaimed with a funny look on his face. Oh, no. He wanted to use you to impress a girl?
You abruptly yet gracefully landed on the floor, making your way out. You really wanted to be alone for a second.
“Wait. No! Don’t go, Tiger” he said and a moment later you found yourself halting. He sounded… broken.
“She is never gonna like me. I mean-ugh!”. You weren’t sure if you should scream because ‘she’ wasn’t you or because he was hurt. But you did value his happiness a bit more than yours, so when he picked you up and petted you, you let him.
“Sure-most girls just throw themselves at me but she is not like that. She is this angelic-like creature; she is radiating. The sun doesn’t stand a chance. Her smile… oh, Tiger… her smile” he trailed off. He had that stupid grin on his face.        He looked cute. You would never have guessed that he could fall so much in love. She was one of the luckiest people on earth to have him swept off his feet- and she didn’t even know. He caressed your small head with affection. Something that you could only gain while in this form.
“I wish I could ask her on a date. Even her name is perfect. Have you ever heard a name so… Y/N. I mean it’s flowing like water- Tiger? Tiger!?”. You had lost your balance and fell down to the floor. Then, before you could think what had just happened, three idiots walked in.
“Still in love with Tiger?” James teased him but petted you while giving you a sweet smile. You, however, could only think of his previous words. Did he really say your name? Like you were that ‘she’?
“No, Prongs. That’s Y/N” Peter said, laughing and you knew that if you weren’t already on the floor you would have fallen.
“Man up and ask her out, Pads” Remus advised him. Bless your soul, Moony!
You run out of their room and made a beeline to yours. You could really use a moment.
 Once you were safely inside your dorm, you changed back to your human self! Finally.
You decided to skip tonight’s meeting and actually leave him a bit alone.
He actually liked you. He liked you. You kept repeating that to yourself but it didn’t seem any less impressive. You thought that you must have done something really good to deserve it.

 You were sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast and cheerfully participating in the conversation that your friends had started. Something about boys. Oh, you thought about boys, alright. One in particular.
 You noticed the group walking in and sitting down next to you. James, of course, sat next to his Lily-flower. You chuckled.
 You could tell that he was staring at you and you felt your heart skip several beats. With all the courage you had muster to find for a second, you turned towards him, smiled brightly. He was taken aback. Your smile only grew bigger.
“Good morning Sirius” you said kindly and very amused.
“H-Hi!” he stuttered out. You held back the urge to chuckle. The great Sirius Black. Everyone’s attention was on you.
“I would love to go out with you” you said nonchalantly while you poured some milk into your coffee. You could hear the gasps coming from everyone. Literally everyone. You looked at him like nothing had happened. He was choking on his breath.
“How- Wha-Uh?” he breathed out completely bewildered.
“A little cat told me” you said, sending him a wink. His eyes almost popped out. You laughed. He was so dense.
“You’re an animagus!” he whispered-yelled, causing you to shush him.
“What can I say.? For a dog, you are quite the cat person” you mocked him, continuing your breakfast, but not before you reached and pecked his cheek.
Little did you know, he was left breathless, bright red and smiling like he had won the lottery. Because in his mind, he had.

Oh What A Night

Stiles did not hesitate outside Derek’s door. He hesitated in the parking lot, far enough away that Derek wouldn’t be able to hear his heartbeat and know that he was there for ten minutes before actually coming in. After those ten minutes were up, he took a deep breath and forced himself out of the Jeep.

He barged into Derek’s loft without bothering to knock, just like he usually did, and Derek didn’t even bother looking up from his book. It was something in French, it looked like, which was just not fair because how dare Derek be both ridiculously attractive and also fluently multilingual?

Sties did not let himself be distracted by the hot professor look Derek had going on with the French book and the steaming mug of tea and the argyle sweater, all laid out on the leather couch and soaked in sunbeams from the large wall of windows.

“Derek, my main man, I have a proposition for you.”

Derek looked up then, but only to raise an eyebrow at him. When Stiles didn’t break under the force of his judgment and go scurrying back from whence he came, Derek reluctantly closed his book and set it aside.

“I’m pretty sure Scott is your main man,” he said lightly. “And what proposition is this?”

“How would you like to help me stick it to some bigots?”

Both Derek’s eyebrows went up this time and Stiles mentally patted himself on the back for making him look so surprised. Getting any expression out of Derek Hale that wasn’t judgy or unimpressed was an accomplishment and Stiles kept a running tally of how many times he managed it.

“What kind of bigots?” Derek asked with caution that was both insulting and also probably warranted considering some of Stiles’ past shenanigans. “And stick it to them how exactly?”

Stiles took another deep breath and hoped his erratic heartbeat wasn’t giving him away. He was not going to let his awkwardness and inability to control his autonomic functions around Derek ruin his plan, not when the plan was so wonderfully petty and promised to be so very satisfying.

“Okay, so…” Stiles clapped his hands together and then held them out to the side, barely restraining the urge to do jazz hands. “I don’t know if you heard, but I came out at school a few weeks ago,” he said. “One seriously bisexual dude, right here, newly out and proud.”

“Oh,” Derek said, his beautiful face—a face worthy of a sexuality crisis, not that Stiles was ever, ever going to tell him about that—not really looking any more or less surprised than before the big revelation. “I hadn’t heard,” he said. “But that’s good. The out and proud part, I mean,” he added quickly. “Not the bigots, which are unfortunate but do make more sense with some context.”

“Yeah. Overall, it’s been fine,” Stiles said, tucking his hands into his pockets so he didn’t do something stupid like make finger guns. He had a tendency to make finger guns at inappropriate moments. “You know, most people really don’t care. But some people are just naturally douchebags.”

“Are they giving you trouble?” Derek asked, a frown creeping onto his face.

Stiles waved him off, then re-pocketed his hand.

“Keep the claws in, Sourwolf. I’m not getting shoved into lockers or anything. It’s just like…”

Stiles chewed on his lip, fighting back the wave of irritation that always accompanied his run-ins with the douchebags.

“Like, some of them insist that I’m actually gay and just too much of a coward to say it outright,” he said. “Others say I’m actually straight but can’t get a girl to sleep me, so I thought I’d try my hand at guys instead because I’m that undesirable and desperate to get laid. I’m just indecisive and greedy and afraid of commitment. That kind of bullshit.”

Derek was scowling outright now, hands fisted like he might actually pop his claws on Stiles’ behalf.

“That is bullshit,” he said heatedly. “But what do you want me to do about it? I’m assuming you’re not here to get me to tear their throats out.”

He looked like he might actually do it, though, if Stiles asked him to, and that warmed Stiles’ cold little heart.

“Uh, no,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “No, that seemed like a little much in the circumstances.”

“Then how am I supposed to help you get back at them?”

“By going to prom with me.”

Stiles was not surprised that this proclamation was met with silence.

“By going to…what?” Derek asked, righteous anger replaced by utter confusion.

“Prom,” Stiles repeated. “My senior prom. With me. As my date. Well, as one of my dates, actually.”

“Dates. Plural.”

“These assholes keep insisting that I have to ‘pick a side,’” Stiles said, air quotes and all. “They think I can’t like both women and men, or that neither women nor men could ever like me. I want to prove them wrong. I want to show up to prom with two dates, a boy and a girl, and rub it in all their faces that both my dates are hotter than any of theirs.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, his confidence in his brilliant plan waning ever so slightly in the face of Derek’s lack of reaction. He was just kind of staring. Maybe Stiles had finally come up with something so outlandish that he broke Derek. Or maybe Derek was going to clock him in the face and be horribly offended that Stiles was objectifying him or something.

“Erica already agreed to be my girl-date,” Stiles told him. “She’s actually really excited about it. A chance to flaunt her stuff and deliberately make a scene all night long? That’s right up her alley. And you…well, you are by far the most attractive guy I know, so I just thought…”

“You want me to go to senior prom with you, just to be your arm candy?” Derek asked slowly.

Stiles cringed.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds about right. But it’s for a good cause!”

There was another excruciatingly long beat of silence, and then Derek laughed. He laughed hard, head thrown back against the couch cushions, hands slapping against his knees, face scrunched up and shiny bunny teeth on full display. It was the kind of laugh that made Stiles’ heart skip a beat and he was very glad Derek was too preoccupied with his amusement to notice.

“Is this a good laugh or a bad laugh?” Stiles asked.

“Good laugh,” Derek choked out through continued chuckles, wiping at his streaming eyes.

“So does that mean you’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, looking up at him with a smile that could stop wars. “Yeah, I’ll do it. Sounds like a good time to me. And, like you said, it’s definitely for a good cause.”

Stiles fist-pumped, already reveling in triumph at the thought of the looks that would be on those biphobic douchebags’ faces.

“I do have one condition, though.” Derek said.

“Anything, dude, you’re the best and I owe you, like, every favor on the planet.”

Derek’s smile widened, a gleam in his eye that made Stiles the tiniest bit hot under the collar.

“I get to pick your suit.”

(read the rest on AO3)

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