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imarawbu · 1 month

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I saw some conversations on the social side of the Muslim dating app that I have been using. I'm not using the marriage side and have deactivated that portion, in case anyone wants to accuse me of anything. I find the social side very helpful in learning how people and how men behave and how they use dating apps. I've modified my profile in some areas based on the helpful tips I've seen for when I actually do start using it.

One of the major things that has been bothering me came up in several posts I saw on there today. People moving on quickly and getting back out and dating again so soon. I get it, it can definitely be a red flag, you have trauma or you caused trauma for another person. Looking at my own experience. Yes, when there was no turning back with my ex, I got onto the app I am on now for the first time. It actually helped me divorce him as I could see a life and love beyond wallowing in my own sadness and being afraid to leave him. About a month or two after I got on the site and started talking to other men, I finally gave him papers for the first time- it still took several more months to divorce him and another year to cut contact completely, but I did it, on my own.

I don't plan on repeating that situation. Before Ramadan, as you can see in my posts, I was very depressed and unsure but wanted to leave. During Ramadan I decided to get back on this app and see what options there are for single mothers on a Muslim dating app. It was a huge confidence boost. It encouraged me to work harder and make a timeline for divorce. I have emailed a lawyer, I have been searching for second jobs. I feel more confident and better than I have in a long time.

On the downside, the first divorce, I know I was unhealed and scared. Scared to talk to men, unsure of what to say, and then also caved into whatever they asked me to do, like giving them my social media, giving them my phone number as soon as we matched. Most of the guys I did cut off eventually because I just didn't feel ready and they were pushing me. When I met my husband, he did the same things and pushed and got me to cave to what he wanted. That's how we got married after 4 months of being in a "relationship" because he pushed me to, I wanted 9 months minimum. My ex-husband did the same in 3 months.

Now, I am not like this nobody is going to make me cave to something I don't want. I will just block at the first sign of a red flag, as I do know them all. Back then and for more than half my life I was severely mentally ill and being around abusive people and situations made it worse. I mentioned in previous posts, how severe it was. My husband isn't exactly abusive- as long as you do what he wants until he changes things up and moves his expectations. I think I recovered after a year or so of marriage, I don't consider him to have been a factor. I consider living with him partially fulfilling my desire to be a loving wife and him being less abusive than my parents and ex to be the reasons why. I also did get better when I moved out of my parents and lived with him and his parents, and then later just with him. I had been told my entire life I was dumb, lazy, etc. being a wife and pretty much being the only adult in the relationship, showed me and others I could do much more than people thought. I earned the respect and admiration of my ex's family when they initially hated me. Even after that, even knowing what I went through and how I did overcome and get out of that situation and handled it better than most 19 year olds would. I still had people look down on me and see me as incapable because I was severely distraught and my mental illness exacerbated by being back living with my parents, who thought I would never amount to anything and said as such about how I had ruined my life. We are specifically talking about F and his mother. They did not see me as capable of being a wife, his mother knew what I went through, I didn't tell her everything but I told her enough. Look how that turned out and I will say it again how she's done everything but verbally stated to me in English she would have preferred me as her daughter in law after she saw how I got better after marriage. Nothing about how I helped her and spent time with her, helped her with her homework when she was trying to become a surgical tech, traveling to her place (3 hours drive) at least once a month to spend time with her, helping her prep for interviews when she wanted to be a nanny, making her a better resume for this as well, helping her get her certifications, etc- but you know, I couldn't cook, so that makes me unstable for marriage? I say this because she discouraged me from trying to remarry because I wasn't prepared to be a wife, cooking was one of the items mentioned the most. I said I would learn to cook after marriage, that's what happened and I'm a better cook than her and most people at their own ethnic food. She told her son lots of stuff about me and at one point, after I had been taking care of her after her (ex?) husband died for two weeks and both her kids flew home for his funeral, her son suddenly saw potential in me and told his mom he was willing to help me look... Anytime I think about it it just infuriates me how much people took advantage of me told me they saw potential, but ultimately underestimated me and saw me the same way my parents did- yet I gave them respect and cared about them...

Anyways. The biggest difference is I'm not fearing and needing to get remarried, I am indifferent about it but it would be nice. I know what to ask and not just to chat and see where it leads, I know what I want beyond just the description I have on my profile for what I'm "looking for." For me, getting back out there is proof I have moved on. None of my marriages was the problem, I just don't know how not to make myself a target and most of that was due to high functioning but still mentally ill. That's gone now. I'm not expecting to literally go on there as soon as I'm divorced and meet someone and marry them immediately, no, it would take months or years and I am holding fast to a minimum of one year knowing each other before marriage happens. Don't like it, bye and moving on. You will regret, not me.

Something else I've learned from seeing the social side, maybe it's just British Muslims or Muslims in general that use the social portion but the women are horrendous. Put aside the red pilled men on there, the women are totally something else and I see why a specific ethnicity has so many problems and why Muslims in general have so many issues getting married. By comparison, I know I'm a catch, there's maybe a few like me on that app.

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crisishauntline · 1 year

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It’s been another one of those miserable & meaningful duality-of-man days that felt like French-kissing a knife. But today it was valuable to learn the taste of my own blood. I feel like I tasted every feeling I’ve ever felt.

Work is a constant meat grinder. I had a nice few days of blissfully avoidant vacation, but now I find myself once again being crushed under the consequences of all my overpromising and procrastination. I have some huge deadlines coming up this week and I don't even feel completely clear on what I need to do.

L texted me today for the first time in over two months. My heart skipped when I saw her name pop up on my screen. I rewrote each of my texts several times. I wanted to talk to her so bad but had no idea how to do it without being too honest, too messy, too casual or too formal. She wants to meet for lunch and catch up. We set a date two weeks from now. By that time, it will have been 6 months since we broke up. I don't know what her hopes are for this meeting and didn't dare ask, because I am in no way prepared to answer that question myself. But I am definitely some type of hopeful about it.

After that conversation came my mediation session with J, which didn't go too well and lasted hours (or maybe that's just what it felt like?). I’m fucking exhausted with J and the constant drama of co-op life, but so appreciative of the people here that I do get along with and learn with. I am grateful for being reminded that not everything is about me, and I can forgive and move on even if I never get the apology I’m hoping for.

Other things I'm feeling... I feel hopeful, confused, guilty, excited, and anxious about seeing L again in two weeks. I feel inspired and terrified and overextended by my job responsibilities as usual. I feel lonely and horny as fuck. I am still deeply hurt by recent rejections, deathly afraid of doing harm, and obsessively anxious about the philosophical and moral weight of each and every one of my choices. I still feel somewhat suicidal. I am angry at myself for failing to live and for failing to die. I am also proud of myself for surviving all my brain’s attempts to kill me thus far, for the sake of my loved ones if nothing else. I feel ashamed to be mentally ill. I feel paranoid I’ve made it all up as part of some narcissistic delusion that I’m using to exploit and harm others while playing the victim. I feel like I am a crazy ex girlfriend and don’t know how to be anything else. I have no idea if I want to actually pursue dates with any of the new dating app people I’ve been talking with. And when it comes to L, I am nowhere near over her. And I honestly don't know what I want—get back together, try to be friends, or maintain the current distance? I don’t want to repeat the cycle. I don't want to waste anyone's time or love anymore.

So tired and full of feelings. I should go to bed but in all honesty I'm probably going to stay up late for absolutely no reason and continue thinking about death and the universe and L until I fall asleep with the lights on again.

#personal #love life #work life #social life #tw suicide #depression

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coldqueenpaper · 2 years

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A PASSION FOR IGNORANCE BY PROFESSOR RENATA SALECL

The discussion in the podcast is about the many faces of ignorance, how it plays a major role in our lives and society and, the reasons for ignorance cited from the book, A Passion for Ignorance (what we choose to know and why) authored by the guest, Professor Renata Salecl.

I chose to write on this topic because I got attracted to the title of the podcast and I believed that from the listening, I would be able to deal better with people in situations where I find that ignorance is the cause.

From the discussion in the podcast, a result to ignorance in this post-industrial world stems from when we often feel overloaded with constant flood of information and misinterpretation, leading to denial, negation and ignorance. It also sometimes stems from the lack of knowledge.

In the discussion, a point made concerning ignorance, is the Psycho-analytic discussion first proposed by French Psychoanalyst, Jaques Lacan. He called it A Passion for Ignorance. People don’t have the passion for knowledge, but ignorance instead. People claim to want to know something but end up doing everything not to know. This is called A passion for ignorance.

We must also note that reasons for ignorance can be described as active/passive or conscious/unconscious.

Then we hear of the Transformation of the concept of knowledge economy into ignorance economy. This stems majorly from the manipulation in society and the lack of knowledge. It is difficult to come up to knowledge because knowledge is hidden from the individuals in the society and hardly accessible. Although some people (major corporations) have higher access to knowledge, even knowledge that are prohibited or unavailable to the general public.

For example, when doing research for a project, it can be difficult to access some information or citations or journals. You would need to pay for subscriptions, and they can be very expensive to acquire.

We presume we have access to knowledge because of google, various websites and search engines, but then the websites and search engines are made by individuals, who generated algorithms creating the hierarchy between knowledge that we can easily see. For example, if we use different search engines to search for a way to prepare a food or let’s say how something is built, we will get different types of information.

Additionally, ignorance was discussed as an active/conscious ignorance. For example, people lying to themselves because they don’t want to face truth which might lead to the end of their fantasy they have created especially when falling in love, or in a relationship.

There are also the issues of websites like dating sites, astronomy apps, etc. that affect people dealing in love and romantic feelings. These websites take genetics to predict compatibility, what may happen with our partners in future and potential children.

Moreover, not all ignorance is bad. Sometimes we negate or deny reality to deal with some difficult issues like some sort of trauma. Usually, we use ignorance in a negative way because we never address our own ignorance. We must see sometimes ignorance is important for our wellbeing, and it needs to also be respected. For example, when dealing with someone that is very traumatized, it is important to understand that he/she is in the grip of ignorance, and we should not force certain kinds of traumatic knowledge unto him/her.

Another example is when informing people about their illness, we need to be careful to understand the ignorance in this instance. Most reactions from situations like this can be described as an unconscious ignorance.

Let us talk about the researcher/author of the book (A Passion for Ignorance), Professor Renata Salecl.

Professor Renata Salecl is a Philosopher and Sociologist. She is a Senior Researcher at the Institute of Criminology at the Faculty of Law in Ljubljana and a Professor at the School of Law, Birkbeck College, London, United Kingdom. Professor Salecl has held numerous visiting professorships at Cardozo School of Law, New York, Humboldt University, Berlin, and Duke University, Durham, among other institutions. Her work is very interdisciplinary and focuses on bringing together law, criminology, the study of political ideologies, and psychoanalysis.

Apart from A Passion of Ignorance, Professor Renata Salecl has authored several books namely, The Spoils of Freedom: Psychoanalysis and Feminism After the Fall of Socialism (Routledge, 1994), (Per)versions of Love and Hate (Verso, 1998), On Anxiety (Routledge, 2004) and Tyranny of Choice (Profile Books, 2010).

#SoundCloud

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yououghttoknowthis · 2 years

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the first thing you ought to know

the first thing you ought to know is that i am mostly better. i mean, i’m not hurting myself every night, or starving myself as intensely as i used to.

but i still have the fasting apps, the log to see how long it’s been since i’ve cut or purged, and the razor tucked away in the depths of a drawer.

the second thing is that i’m not better. it’s been 13 days since i’ve hurt myself and i’ve had urges frequently. i suppose that’s typical for getting clean, though.

i went to the psychiatric hospital 3 years ago, in 2019. i was 13 and there for 6 days. the only reason i wasn’t there longer was because i was on an involuntary hold for a few days and would have to go before a court or something and defend my mental illness. whatever the fuck that meant. i was on an involuntary hold because of my mother.

i met Him there. not Him as in God, but that is one of the Hims in my life. Him as in if i named him i could get in trouble. i was dating someone at the time, we were six months strong. He told me i was pretty, that my ass was nice, and that he’d like to kiss me. ok, i thought. its ok. he groped my thighs and i let him. i was 13, he was 15. does that mean i am absolved of the guilt of my emotional infidelity? thats a question i can't answer for myself. its a question i don't think i want the answer to.

i didn’t try to kill myself. not the time i went to the psych ward. i was going to kill myself, and let those around me pick up the pieces, and i think that means i was being selfish but i don't know, but my friend called the police.

that’s another thing you need to know. i’m afraid of the police now. it sounds weird for a white person to say, i know, but i’ll never be comfortable around them again, i don’t think. i also just think they’re bastards. they didn’t save my life, they just fucked it up.

i made friends in the psych ward. some people do, some people don't. i did. sometimes i do miss the people i met there, i want to find them and reconnect sometimes but im scared they wont like who i am when i'm not sick.

thats another another thing you need to know. i use the word sick to describe what i was Then. its the only way i can think to describe it, really. an mhs, mental health specialist, used the word when i was crying about my mother. it fit.

my therapist says i'm scared to get better because it's what i knew for a long time. i think i'm really scared to get better because i don't want to stop being special. being sick made me special sometimes. i don't like thinking like that.

i wrote 500 words. i can stop confessing now.

#long form poetry #long read #confession #confessing #mental health #mental health awareness #psychiatric hospital #psych ward #love #hate #hurt

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reidsnose · 3 years

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love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru

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queenshelby · 3 years

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My Friend’s Father (Part Five)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Mild Sexual References

Words: 1,848

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

*************************

YOUR POV

Two weeks had passed since you visited your friend Denise in Dublin and it was time for the annual Galway Arts Festival.

Denise had been working on a photography project for the past year and had been nominated for a student award in Galway as part of which ten of her photographs were being displayed during the Arts Festival.

Whilst, as you had expected, Cillian didn’t contact you, you knew that he would be there to support his daughter. Being an artist himself, he was very proud of her and her work and he supported her projects not only mentally but also financially with the caveat that she would finish her degree at Trinity College.

Unlike him, he didn’t want her to drop out of university even though she hated it and you certainly understood his reasoning.

Contrary to Denise, you had no creative bone in your body. You enjoyed art and theatre, but weren’t an artist or performer yourself. Instead, you were an A Grade Law Student who had become rather bored in Galway and had recently applied for a scholarship to Oxford University.

Reading was your passion and you had always been known as a geek. In school, you were the girl that no one liked, nerdy, not interested in fashion or social media and wearing braces, which, luckily, had been removed three years ago.

You were shy and it was only for Denise that you came out of your shell. She was popular in school, mostly due to her name, but also because she was generally confident and, over the years, she helped you gain confidence especially after you had left high school.

But, today, you knew you would be questioning your gained confidence once again since, first of all, you would be seeing Cillian again and the truth was that you couldn’t stop thinking about him in an intimate way and, secondly, you were featured completely naked on some of Denise’s photographs.

Whilst the photographs were artistic and not sexual in any way and your most intimate part wasn’t visible on them, it bothered you knowing that people you disliked would see you so vulnerable and you couldn’t remember why you had agreed to being photographed like that.

The other woman who Denise chose to photograph was Amalie. She was 23 and had been Denise’s friend for a while as well but, unlike you, she began modelling professionally when she was just 16. You all went to the same private school together and, clearly, her lifestyle had been largely financed by her parents. She always wore expensive clothes and had no interest in pursuing a career other than modelling, which barely sustained her lifestyle considering the few small jobs she got.

***

Just as you served your last cup of coffee to an elderly lady sitting in the corner of the café you were working at, you saw Denise, Amalie and two other friends of Denise walk in.

‘Hey guys, take a seat. I will be right with you. I am just about to finish my shift’ you said as you hung up your apron.

‘Please tell me you will get changed before the Gallery opening tonight?’ Amalie asked somewhat weirdly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sat down at the table with her, Denise and the others before ordering some coffees for yourselves.

‘No, I thought I would go like this’ you said sarcastically, looking down at your coffee-stained clothes.

‘I bought a dress for tonight’ you then said, after Amalie didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm.

‘Right’ she then said as she flicked through Instagram and you simply looked at Denise who shrug her shoulders.

‘What are you looking for?’ you asked curiously as her eyes seemed to be glued to her phone.

‘She is looking to find more photos of my dad and Laura Jennings’ Denise said, rolling her eyes.

‘Laura Jennings, as in the actress?’ you asked, causing Amalie to nod.

‘Yes, apparently they have been dating’ Amalie then confirmed, causing you to swallow harshly. You knew that you shouldn’t care but you couldn’t help it. Knowing that Cillian was seeing someone made you feel ill.

‘And you care about that why?’ you then asked Amalie after an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine.

‘Apparently, just like you, Amalie thinks my dad is a DILF’ Denise huffed out before telling you how disgusting you all were.

‘Well, he is though…he is super hot’ Amalie then joked before carrying on. ‘And I don’t understand how you don’t know about Laura Jennings and whether this is true or not. You need to find out’ Amalie then said but Denise simply shook her head.

‘My father doesn’t share this sort of stuff with me and I certainly don’t want to know about his sex life, thank you very much. In so far as I am concerned, he doesn’t have sex, ever…yuck! Also, I would appreciate if you could not talk about my dad anymore, please. It grosses me out’ Denise said and you knew that, all of this had become a common occurrence ever since the day the first episode of Peaky Blinders aired on BBC, a show which Denise refuses to watch herself because of the heavy sexual content and a show which you, only a week ago, had begun to binge watch.

Cillian’s POV

When Cillian walked into the basement after you had left, he immediately saw the small folded up note you had left him but, reading it, made him somewhat uncomfortable.

He was torn about what to do with it and certainly knew that he should ignore it. He couldn’t see you again even if he wanted to.

The fact that you were 23 years younger than him and that you were his daughter’s best friend made it all wrong and highly inappropriate and he didn’t know what had gotten into him in the first place when he gave into you.

He had never felt attracted towards you in any sort of way until that last visit which was the first time had seen you since you and your family had moved away.

You changed in many ways and he wasn’t sure what it was that he liked about you. But what he knew was that it was more than just sexual attraction, which was usually something he knew how to supress.

With that in mind, he placed your note into his wallet and decided to ignore it for now. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw it out.

***

With his bags packed it was time for him to return to Manchester and resume filming of the final season of Peaky Blinders.

The first week of filming went well and Cillian decided to spend the weekend with his friend, fellow actress Laura Jennings. Cillian and her had developed a friend with benefits sort of relationship. No strings attached and no feelings involved. After his divorce from Denise’s mother, he wasn’t ready for anything else and Laura would certainly not have been the type of woman he would have wanted a relationship with in the first place.

Unlike him, she wasn’t press shy and, whilst they kept their arrangement a secret as best as they could, she was otherwise quite active on social media.

Cillian, on the other hand, only maintained a private Instagram account with the sole purpose of being able to check on his children. Whilst they were adults, he was still worried about them, especially Denise who had recently gotten herself in a lot of trouble after distancing herself from this Jeremy boy.

***

‘Another wine?’ Laura asked as Cillian was relaxing on top of the doonas, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs, after they had spent the last hour doing exactly what friends with benefits would do after not having seen each other for over two weeks due to busy filming schedules.

‘Yes please…thanks’ he responded as he reached for his phone after a notification had popped up.

It was his daughter Denise who had posted on Instagram and, since she hadn’t posted for a while, he decided to check it out, hoping that she wasn’t with Jeremy again.

To his surprise, three new pictures of Denise and her friends showed up when he opened the APP and, one of them, there was you.

In the picture, you were wearing accompanied by a man in his late twenties, wearing a suit while you were wearing a dark blue dress and he couldn’t help but wonder who the man by your side was.

You looked simply stunning, with your hair long and open and your shoulders exposed. You were wearing only a little bit of make up and showed your beautiful smile.

‘There you go Mr Murphy’ Laura then said as she returned to the bedroom with another glass of wine, pulling Cillian’s phone out of his hand and climbing on top of him.

‘Round Two?’ she then asked eagerly as she reached for another condom, but Cillian’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely.

‘Maybe tomorrow, I am tired. It has been a long week, sorry’ he explained, causing Laura to pout with disappointment.

But the second round never eventuated as Cillian left Laura’s house the following morning to drive back to Manchester to resume filming.

On his way back to Manchester, he called his daughter Denise to check on her and while he did, he enquired about your companion on the Instagram posts.

‘Why do you want to know?’ Denise asked somewhat confused but Cillian played it cool.

‘He looks familiar, that’s all. Didn’t he go to your school?’ he then asked, playing dumb.

‘Oh god no, he is 29. His name is Connor and he is an accountant. Y/N wouldn’t date anyone our age. You know she isn’t a normal 21-year-old’ Denise joked, referring to your nerdiness and intellect.

‘Apparently not’ Cillian chuckled before asking another question about the stranger on the picture. ‘So, they are dating?’ he asked.

‘I think they went on two or three dates or something. Why do you care?’ Denise asked.

‘No reason. I was just wondering’ Cillian confirmed before changing the topic.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @ttzamara @cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon @ysmmsy

#cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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urbancripple · 2 years

Note

I apologize if someone has already asked this, I looked but I didn’t see anything, I’m sorry if I missed it.

I’ve been disabled a while now, but I never mentioned it, and refused to talk to doctors about it. I’ve finally decided to try and get help, but it’s really hard. I’m worried the doctor won’t believe me, or will blame it on my mental illnesses, and I’m also worried that it is actually just from my mental illnesses. The reason I’m worried about it is because I don’t want the doctor to waste time and money getting me tested for things, just to figure out it is from mental illness. I’m worried about being a burden. I’m worried about the doctor diagnosing me with somatic symptom disorder or munchausan syndrome.

So my questions are: is there a way to tell if it’s from mental illness vs physical illness? How far should I push the doctor for testing before accepting it is mental illness? (Since doctors where I live are pretty ableist, and often ignore diagnosing/treatment of zebra disorders, im not quite sure when to trust that the doctor has actually done enough testing, vs when they just don’t care enough to do more testing) And do you have any tips for settling anxiety while trying to bring up my symptoms?

Hi! Welcome!

The first thing I wanna recommend is that you consider seeing someone about what seems like a lot of anxiety around going to the doctor.

The question "is there a way to tell if [my medical symptom are] from mental illness vs physical illness?" is a really, really good question that I (and most everyone else on this site) are not qualified to answer.

I do have a fair bit of experience navigating the American healthcare system and one bit of advice that I am comfortable giving you is this: bring data, not conclusions when you talk to your doctor about your symptoms.

Every day, write down the following information (this is not an exhaustive list):

What time you went to bed and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience)

What time you woke up and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience)

Everything you eat and when you ate it and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience) shortly before and after.

Any time you experience an onset or termination of symptoms (date and time)

What your mental state was at the time of onset or termination of symptoms.

Your exercise.

How much water you drink.

How much caffeine you consume.

Any time you take a prescription or OTC drug.

Add anything else you feel may be relevant. But be consistent. Choose a format and a routine and stick to it! The more consistent you're data is, the easier it will be to analyze.

I know this sounds like a lot and it is. There are apps to help you track all of this. But gathering all of this data will help your doctor(s) get a better picture of what's going on with you. It'll help them see potential causes and make it easier to prescribe treatment.

And remember: it's not your job to diagnose anything based on the data you're collecting. That's the doctor's job. Left up to our own devices we're just as likely to decide "colon cancer" instead of "that pepper was too spicy" every time we're wincing on the toilet after too much Indian food.

And it doesn't matter if everything is "in your head" because literally everything happens in your head. You are reading this because light is hitting your eyeballs and being processed by a sack of grey mush we barely understand inside of a skeleton. We are all just sacks of meat powered by lightning.

How you are feeling is valid. Mental health is physical health because the brain is inside the body.

And again, seriously, see a therapist. They'll help you formulate a plan to talk to your doctor about your symptoms as well as help you deal with the emotional strain of navigating American healthcare.

If nothing I've said helps or doesn't answer your question, feel free to submit another ask. Usually, I'd put answers like this on my main site so others can more easily access it but your question felt specific enough to answer it here.

If you want to see what other folks have asked me about dealing with doctors, you can go here

#doctors #mental health #therapy

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Extra (part 9)

Warning - illness, mentions of death

Authors Note - I have personal experience of this horrific disease - I hope I don't upset anyone with it, but it's a topic very close to my heart.

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

A month had passed since you'd deleted his number and blocked him. You were staring at the letter in your hand, shaking. You knew this day was coming, but you'd pushed it so far down that you had only truly thought about it when Cillian had told you he loved you.

You'd told Liane the truth. Why you couldn't commit to him, even though you desperately wanted to. Truth be told you'd fallen for him just as hard - and that's exactly why you'd pushed him away. It was bad enough you had to live with this, you couldn't force someone else to. She'd encouraged you to get tested - and you knew she was right. It was time you took your life in your hands once and for all. You'd spent too many years since your mother's and sister's untimely deaths burying it.

Picking up the phone, you dialled the number, heart pounding. The receptionist answered.

"Morning. My name is y/n y/l/n. I had some tests. I've had a letter to say the results are in?"

"Can I ask what the test was for?" The receptionist asked.

"My GP referred me. It's for the breast cancer gene. I'd like to know if I carry it."

"Let me check our records Miss Y/L/N. Yes, I have your results here. Would you be available to come in this afternoon? We've had a cancellation?"

"Can you not tell me over the phone?"

"I'm not allowed to, the doctor has requested to see you in person." Your heart lurched, that was never a good sign.

You immediately wanted to call Cillian, but remembered you didn't have his contact details any more. You called Liane instead. She would pick you up at 2pm and go with you to the appointment.

Sat in the waiting room, Liane held you hand to calm you. Your nerves were in tatters. This disease had already taken so much from you - your mum, your older sister, two cousins... You knew there was a strong chance it was going to take you, too. The doctor called you through.

"Your results are here y/n. And I'm pleased to inform you -"

"What?" You gasped. The doctor smiled and took your hands in hers.

"Y/n, you don't carry the gene. It isn't there - your chances of developing breast cancer are no higher than mine, or Joan Bloggs on the street. You're going to be okay." Even the doctor had tears in her eyes. Liane was gobsmacked. You just burst into tears.

"I'm not going to die?"

"Oh honey if I had the cure for that I'd be a millionaire!" She laughed, you did too. You felt like the world had just been lifted off your shoulders, taking a dark cloud with it. A dark cloud you'd been living with for nearly 10 years. The real reason you'd split with your ex. The reason you refused to get your breasts out for auditions. The real reason you backed away from a life in acting. You didn't see the point if you weren't going to be here for the long haul... But now?

Now you'd been given a new life. A new start. And your thrown away the best chance of happiness you'd ever had in one stupid click of a button.

Liane noticed your sadness in the car on the way home. You suddenly realised you weren't actually heading home though, you were on the M6 heading to Wolverhampton.

"Erm.. where are we going?" You asked, seeing the sign for Wolverhampton fly past.

"Road trip."

"Destination?"

"It's a surprise!! Do you trust me?"

"Always..."

"Then don't ask questions."

You rolled your eyes and figured you were probably en route to Bicester Village in Oxford. That was your happy place - a day of shopping, good food, few drinks in the evening... Before long though, your eyelids grew heavy. You always fell asleep on car journeys, this one was no different. Within ten minutes you were out cold.

You felt Liane nudge you gently, waking you. Opening your eyes, you looked around, expecting to see the car park. Instead you saw terraced houses, a green park, and a street sign with 'London Borough - Kilburn' on it.

"Why am I in London??" You asked. Liane shrugged her shoulders.

"Fancied a change - never been before! Just got on the motorway and drove. Been years since we've done that hasn't it! Just drove with no destination?" You grinned, remembering the random road trips you used to take years ago. You'd ended up all over the UK, even catching a ferry to Amsterdam one Friday night just because you were bored!

"So what's the plan?"

"Let's go explore!" She paid for the parking via an app on her phone and you both climbed out the car. The houses were all Victorian style and beautiful. The park was glorious - the sun shining on it beautifully. Liane suggested a picnic in the park first to line your stomachs, then cocktails.

"Aren't you driving us home later?"

"Yes - I'll be on the mocktails! Come on, let's go find food... There's loads of little deli places over there!"

Picnic done, it was cocktail time. Sadly, there didn't appear to be a cocktail bar anywhere near... But there was a nice looking pub over the road. Settling on a normal G&T, you both made your way over. Liane sent you inside to get the drinks while she sat in the beer garden out the back.

Heading outside with two G&Ts, you looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. You quickly scanned inside again just to make sure you'd not missed her. Setting the drinks down on a bench outside, you waited. Must've gone to the toilet. Taking your phone out you sent her a text letting her know where you were.

Ten minutes passed - still no sign. You were worried now. A ping on your phone.

"For god's sake woman open your eyes and look in the corner!!" Liane... What the hell? You looked up and nearly dropped your phone. Sitting ten feet away from you, on his own... Holding his phone in his hand and staring at you the same way you were staring at him. In complete disbelief.

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. Both of you realising you'd been set up. Completely played.

He stood up, you were convinced he was going to leave but he didn't. He sat opposite you instead.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey..."

"Can I talk before you do?" He asked. You nodded.

"I know... I didn't... Fuck this makes so much more sense in my head..." He laughed.

"Can I talk instead?" He nodded. You took a deep breath and told him the truth. About your family. The deaths. The illness. The tests.. and the results.

"That's why I pushed you away. That's why I push everyone away. But you were the first one I pushed that I regretted... I regretted it so much because no one had ever made me feel as alive as you did. No one made me float on air like you did. No one made me forget about this cloud hanging over me like you did..."

"You thought I'd leave you if you had the gene?"

"My Dad left when my mom was diagnosed. He couldn't handle it so he bailed. Wasn't a great role model."

"Your dad's a dick. I'm not." His brutal, dead pan response made you laugh. In fact you didn't just laugh, you were in hysterics. He laughed with you, and took your hands in his.

"If I promise not to tell you I love you, will you let me see you?"

"No."

"Erm... Okay?"

"I want you to tell me you love me, if you mean it. Then I'll decide."

"Y/N... I. Love. You. I fucking love you. I adore you. I've had the most miserable four weeks of my life thanks to you!" He laughed.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that.."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"You're giving me a second chance?"

"I never gave up on the first one. But this time, we take it slow. Get to know each other. I'll start by asking if I can take you out to dinner tonight?"

"I have nothing with me... All my stuff's at home..."

"Fair enough. Then we have two choices. You go shopping with Liane and get yourself something.. or go home and we can arrange to meet another time?"

"I'm already here, and shopping was on our to do list. Dinner tonight sounds lovely."

"Unblock my number. I'll text you the details later, okay?" He finished his drink and pulled his jacket on, quickly typing a text as you unblocked his number. If only you'd known it was that easy to get his contact details again... The message pinged through.

"Thank you..." You smiled reading it. He leaned over and kissed your cheek softly, before walking away. Glancing back, smiling, as he left the pub.

Liane was with you in seconds.

"You sneaky little shit, how did you do this??" You laughed.

"Anto contacted me last week, said he was sick of Cillian moping. We kinda worked together... Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. Where's Anto?"

"Right here." Anto appeared out of nowhere and you threw your arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything?"

"No need to thank me. This was Liane's idea. Bit of a rush to sort once you'd got those results but luckily you live 3 hours away and you sleep like the dead!" He laughed. "Now get yourself gone - you have a date to prepare for!"

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

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madfantasy · 3 years

Note

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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yeojaa · 4 years

Note

GIRL we need a devil in a new suit drabble where jungkook gets jealous pls bless us😭😭❤️

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. kook being hilarious and naive, reader being a little frustrated but head over heels, smut in the form of: titty sucking (kook is a big boob guy in this), cunnilingus, kook wanting to love you forever. wc. 2.1k. author note. i am... so in love with this couple so what was meant to be a “kook gets jealous and breaks reader’s back” turned into... this.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t get jealous. Not because he doesn’t care, or he’s unaffected, or any other negative connotation under the sun. He doesn’t because he’s him, too soft and sweet and silly to believe the worst in people. (This, coming from the man who’d steered clear of dating apps and blind dates because he was worried he’d be hurt.)

Once, you’d been waiting for him to pick you - he’d been running late, dinner with his parents and younger sister - and he’d found you chatting politely to an old fling of yours. Well, maybe not so old. A recent fling, a friend of sorts. Someone who’d swanned into your life during your college years and had remained there ever since, popping his head in from time to time.

You’d always been on good terms, caught up for lunch every six months or so when he’d return home from his overseas job. In the past, you’d found familiarity in the shape of his hands, the neon outline of his almond eyes and pouting lips. He was good in bed, as charming between the sheets as he was on the street.

But your heart belonged to Jungkook now - had, before you’d even realised it - and Taewoo was just another guy. Another face in a crowd.

Still, you’d thought your beloved boyfriend would have some sort of reaction. Maybe a quirk of his perfectly groomed brows, a certain tightness belying his displeasure in the softly peaked bow of his mouth. You’d spied neither after extracting yourself from the hug and waving goodbye. Jungkook had been sunshine and sweetness, opening your door for you and stamping a kiss to your cheek.

That night, he’d loved you how he always had, with you crying his name and making a mess of his sheets.

Another time, you’d been at a work function. One of those ridiculous galas you loved, full of women in their highest heels and men in their swankiest watches. (You’d worn Aquazzura that night, Jungkook with an Audemars Piguet loose around his wrist.)

He’d stuck close to your side, far more interested in the way your dress hugged your figure, cut intimidatingly high over your thigh and revealed the swell of your ass at juuuust the right angle. Yejin had been the only one to tear him away, insisting on shots that you knew she couldn’t handle. Anything went if free booze was involved.

Thirty minutes later - give or take, since you hadn’t had a watch of your own on - your boyfriend had returned, flushed and adorable. There’d been a garden of colour creeping over the expanse of his chest, peeking around the collar of his shirt and disappearing into his neatly tousled strands. He’d giggled his way back to you, somehow completely oblivious to the man that’d found you at your table and settled himself into the spot labelled Jeon Jungkook.

The imposter had been affronted, gaze narrowed at the younger man who was a little too loose, a little too smiley. Wholly out of place at an event like this, where people spent too much time up their own asses, noses held aloft and business cards exchanged.

(One of the reasons you loved Jungkook so much. He was a breath of fresh air in a world you thrived in - found humour in, at the very least - carrying you high above the clouds with the sound of his laughter.)

“Hi, baby.” Your darling boy smothered you in kisses, traced them up and over the exposed expanse of your shoulder, nosing against your skin, utterly unbothered by the man shooting him daggers, wishing him ill from the spot he’d wrongly claimed.

Of course, he’d thought Jungkook was making a point - claiming what was his - but that was so far from the truth you’d almost laughed when he’d spoken, voice carrying above the slightly laboured breaths of your lover. “I guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

You’d smiled, nodded with a hand threaded into cornsilk curling over Jungkook’s nape. “Looks like it.”

(Then your idiot love - your big-hearted moron, your doe-eyed baby - had come up for air, cheek resting in the palm of his hand. “Where’s your friend?” He’d asked, eyes so wide you couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his question.)

Such was the kind of person Jungkook was, with an unwavering belief in the goodness of others, a silver thread outlining everyone’s silhouette. You sometimes wondered what it would take to drive him to any sort of displeasure, any sort of emotion beyond quiet melancholy (seldom seen but heavily felt, when the rare occasions rose) or easygoing amicability (his default setting). Not that you’d ever push to see that, of course.

You were happy. Hopelessly in love. You wouldn’t have traded him for the world - couldn’t even fathom doing anything to hurt him.

And yet, you discover albeit by accident - it’s really not that hard. All it takes is a pretty girl.

“This looks incredible,” she says, standing close, long dark hair falling in a fluid curtain down the line of her back. It’s the loveliest shade, cool-toned beneath the boutique lights, and reflects colour like a waterfall. You’d complimented her on it when you’d stepped into the fitting area, a handful of hangers set across the rolling rack.

Fingers smooth over embroidery, revelling in the feeling of it over your skin. It’s a beautiful thing, black tulle that hangs to your fingertips. Not Jungkook’s preferred style - he much prefers harnesses and so many straps it might as well be a cat’s cradle - but you think he loves it nonetheless.

(You’d confirm, but he’s been stoically silent, seated in the plush chair tucked beside the privacy partition, normally soft gaze hard and trained on his phone. He doesn’t seem very much in the mood to talk, hardly reacting with each outfit change. A nod here, a smile there. Not even the most scandalous of the options - a black corset decorated in Leavers lace - had elicited his usual enthusiasm.)

“You think so?” You’re not insecure about your body - know what it looks best in, which assets to play up. Still, it’s nice to hear from someone other than your doting boyfriend, the people caught in your orbit.

The sales associate nods, beams at you in the multiple mirrors. A hand of her own drifts over the thin strap of the slip - an innocent gesture that dislodges wayward strands of hair from beneath. “Of course— and I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to sell it.”

You nod, satisfied. Even if Jungkook doesn’t seem ecstatic, your own joy makes up for it, buyer’s delight spilling over. “I’ll take the satin robe, the blush silk set, and this in the violet.”

“Great choices,” she hums, pulling back the curtain to the adjoining change room to allow you privacy. Silence follows as you slip the delicate number off, returning it to its hanger. You don’t expect when the brunette continues speaking - presumably to your surprisingly surly boyfriend. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yep.” He’s never been a man of few words, usually so full of excitement that he rambles when he doesn’t mean to.

It’s a dead giveaway - a confirmation that something’s wrong.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t have time to broach the subject, your purchases already paid for and a firm hand on the small of your back the moment you’ve stepped out of the dressing stall. “Jungkookie?” You mean it quietly, just for the two of you, but falter when he slots his fingers between yours and all but tugs you out of the boutique. You hardly even have a chance to toss the helpful girl an apologetic smile, imposing glass swinging shut behind you.

“Men—men are fine. I don’t have to worry about them.” There’s a confidence you’re so proud to see, turning his words as solid as the weight that rests against your hip, sears burning heat into your bared skin. “No other man is going to love you better than me. But women?” A shudder runs the length of his imposing frame, tugs his shoulders up to his ears and tingles the small of his back. “Women are scary.” (It’s a sentiment he’s echoed in the past. In particular, months ago when you’d insisted he dive into the dating scene.)

Hands thread through his too-soft strands, twirl the ends around your fingers as he speaks, nearly muffled into the crook of your shoulder. He’s being so tender, giving you all the love he has to offer as he writes his insecurities into your skin, offers them with the wet of his tongue.

“A woman might sweep you off your feet and steal you away.”

You laugh then - sound snapping past your teeth before you can tuck it away. It filters loudly into the baies scented candle you’d lit when you’d gotten into his apartment.

Jungkook whines in response - a terribly endearing sound that makes you roll your eyes but only with affection (always with that) - and buries his face into your tits, sucking your nipple into his mouth with complete disregard for the tulle that acts as a barrier. Saliva stains the material, makes it stick to your hardened bud as he laves over it with his tongue - bites surprisingly gently - and tugs it just hard enough to have you keening.

“S-s’not funny,” he huffs, palming your other breast in his broad tattooed palm. When he continues, he bites into you like he’s got a personal vendetta against whatever lies beneath your flesh. “She was flirting with you.”

It’s less of a sigh of annoyance - more sensual, drowning in need. “She was not.”

He nips at the delicate flesh again, spreads crimson marks all across the sensitive skin until it’s a mosaic beneath the fabric, his finest work painted by his second favourite brush. “That’s what you think but she was.” The hand previously kneading your skin drops, flat of his palm sliding easily over your bare pussy.

There’s zero hesitation when he slots his fingers on either side of your clit, catches the delicate pearl against the webbing of his hand and applies pressure that has you bucking beneath him. It’s not nearly as aggressive as he normally is but it’s just as good, paired with the sinful motions of his tongue and teeth.

“She wants to be the one doing this,” he continues, saliva pooling across your chest, slipping into the valley of your breasts only to be licked up by the flat of his tongue. He continues even once you’re clean, skin sticky and a little gross but so erotic it makes you quiver. Then he descends, pushes the hem of your new slip higher, and licks another stripe from the joint of your thigh up to your belly button. Repeats it again, moving lower with each pass until he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. “She wants to be the one tasting this pretty, pretty pussy.”

You reach for his hand - the one somewhere near your ribs, side of his wrist soothing against the ladder of bones - and tangle your fingers together as he drives you mad, tip of his tongue switching between sweet kitten licks and tantalising figure eights.

“Baby,” you coax, reprimand almost. Jungkook’s never this lenient, never this sweet on you (not inside the bedroom, at least). It brings you to a different high, his love folded into lovely origami cranes you tuck into your pockets and the spot you’ve carved out for him within your chest.

“Sing for me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t mean literally - refers instead to the sound of your voice when it leaps three octaves, bounces between sultry and singed, burnt at the edges by the fire he brings to life.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” Despite how the words muffle, come broken between the glide of his tongue within your fluttering walls, you can hear the sincerity in them. The earnestness that begs you to promise him this simple thing. “Not for her. Not for anyone.”

“I won’t leave you,” you answer, threading the vow between your fingers as if they’re the thread binding your love story together. “Not for her - not for anyone.”

#anon.eml #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #devil.doc #jungkook.doc

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

May I please request some angst with Kise being busy with basketball and modelling career neglecting his s/o? Additionally his s/o thinks he's cheating on them and just a big misunderstanding. Thank you very much 😊❤️

A/N: Even though I am quite late, happy Valentine’s Day! This actually got longer than I planned it to be, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Tags: Kise x reader ✅ angst ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Misunderstanding - Kise x reader

If someone had told you that you’d become the Kise Ryouta’s girlfriend some time ago, then you wouldn’t have believed it.

Kise was a young face everyone would’ve recognized if they had seen it somewhere in public. His blond hair was partially at fault for that as well, but the main reason for his immense popularity was his side job as a young model for different fashion and makeup brands. On top of that, he had been a part of the legendary Generation of Miracles, a group of six young and talented basketball players who each had an extraordinary and never-seen-before skill that could turn every game around. He was very fond of this sport and wished to steadily improve himself at every possible opportunity so of course, it was a given that he’d continue his training even after middle school.

Thinking about this handsome man and all of his achievements made you wonder just how lucky you were for being able to call him your boyfriend. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that the two of you went to the same school and were in the same grade, but never mind that, what surprised you the most was the moment he’d asked to meet you and then sheepishly confessed his interest in you and the wish to be by your side as your boyfriend. It was such a surreal situation that you couldn’t help but nod throughout the entirety of it.

The two of you didn’t know each other that well at first so the process of finding out everything possible about the other was quite fun and really made both of you forget about the stressful part of your daily lives. At first, you had expected that Kise was your typical playboy who’d just confess to anyone who met his preferences, but as time went on you actually saw past those prejudices of yours and were pleasantly surprised at how different he was than what you had imagined. He was a very caring, gentle, and nice guy who’d do anything to see you smile and hear you laugh or giggle. He made you feel like you were the only person in the entire world and that there was no one else he’d rather spent his time with than you. The surprises he prepared for you on special days such as Valentine’s Day or your own birthday were mind-blowing as well.

You of course made sure to always return that amount of love you’d received and his adorable reactions were the reason you felt like you’d fallen in love with him yet another time.

Everything was working out perfectly and the two of you were as happy as can be, but life, unfortunately, likes to ruin perfect moments like these...

The two of you were now third-years and Kise was slowly starting to think about his future plans, so he began taking on more modeling gigs during his free days, some of these even overlapped with the days on which you had planned a date. You were pretty understanding at first and even told him that you didn’t mind, but as these date reschedulings began occurring every single time it really made you sad. In fact, you were so sad that as soon as Kise mentioned having an upcoming free day you simply nodded and whispered a silent ‘I see.’

Nevertheless, you kept on visiting him during his basketball club’s training sessions and watched him steadily improve his performance with each passing day. His bright smile after every basket made your heart throb and a couple of weeks ago you would’ve interpreted it as a positive feeling but now? It simply pained you. Negative thoughts flooded your mind and is if that wasn’t enough, a group of his fangirls stormed the field moments after the referee had blown his whistle three times.

“Kise-kun, please look this way!!“

“Kise! Can you please sign my t-shirt?“

“C-Can I have your number please!“

Sights like these weren’t uncommon and you were used to ignoring them, knowing that Kise wouldn’t do anything that might upset you or his fans, but as of late situations such as these annoyed you. You sighed, stood up, and left the gym.

“(Y/N)! Wait up!“

At the sound of the familiar voice of your best friend, you obeyed his plea, turning back to the young man who was running up to you.

“Yukio! What’s wrong?”

He stopped right before you, greeting you with a small smile as he rubbed the back of his neck in slight discomfort.

“Is...Is something bothering you? Or more like...has everything been alright as of late? N-No that’s not it...Do you-”

“There’s no need to beat around the bush Yukio and you know it,” you say with a small smile as you gently bump your fist against his arm, “just tell me what’s been bugging you.”

He sighs in relief and you see how some tension leaves his shoulders as he asks you a rather surprising question: “I’ve noticed the tension between Kise and you, so tell me...what’s up with that? Do I need to step in and help you out with something?”

Yukio was quite perceptive, especially when it came to your and Kise’s relationship, he always made sure to keep up with your well-being since he knew how carried away your blond boyfriend could get. If it were any other occasion, you would’ve told your best friend what had bothered you so much, but now that you reflected on it, it seemed a rather meaningless reason for you to be upset over so you just shook your head lightly and brushed it off. Your counterpart on the other hand just squinted his eyes in suspicion but decided to let it go for now.

“Just make sure to tell him if something is worrying you, ok? Remember, communication is the key to every relationship.”

And with those wise words, he bid you farewell and jogged back to the gym...

“Hey...(Y/N)-cchi? Would you like to go on a date next Saturday?”

“..? Excuse me?”

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes with equally surprised expressions and not short after you both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry Kise, I just didn’t expect you to invite me on a date, that’s all.“

Your boyfriend sat down next to you and took your hand in his own, gently caressing each of your fingers as he let his eyes roam around your facial features. Looking at him being that deeply lost in thought made you wonder just what was going through his mind. Usually, he’d try and avoid dating you in public or when it was still daytime because of the potential rumors and scandals it might start, so you couldn’t help but wonder just what brought this sudden change. With a rather sad-looking smile, he brought your hands to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles, his action causing your cheeks to redden ever so slightly.

“Hehe, sorry (Y/N)-cchi, it’s just...we haven’t been able to spend much time together and I need to tell you something important as well, so I thought that a date might be the best solution for this...”

Nothing he’d just said sounded good to you. Kise was rarely a person who’d organize something according to things he’d like to tell or discuss with you so the idea alone was a massive red flag for you. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the seriousness with which he’d approached you, so despite the uneasy feeling that was building up within you, you put on your best fake smile and nodded.

——

“Oh my god did you read today’s news?“

Stop it...

“I just can’t believe it and here I thought that he was a down-to-earth type of guy!“

But he is, I swear!

“You guys are exaggerating! He’s a playboy, you can see that from a mile away!“

N-No, you’re wrong!

“Did you guys actually know that these were actually some long-term fans of his from way back when he first debuted?“

So what...? I’m sure there must be some backstory to this...

“They could’ve at least picked a better and more hidden-away location than a love hotel right at the center of Shinjuku...“

Maybe they had a photo shoot around that area!

“Ugh, he makes me sick...and to think that I shared my book with him once.”

Please don’t say that...

“I feel sorry for his managers and teammates. Who knows what these poor souls have to go through because of this.“

T-That’s一

No matter how many corners you turned, stairs you climbed, or rooms you entered, everyone was talking about the same thing: Kise. The moment you had woken up, your phone was full of notifications, questions, and missed calls, but before you could even comprehend what was going on, one particular message had caught your attention.

♡ : I’m sorry (Y/N)-cchi but I won’t be coming to school today. This is all just a big misunderstanding...trust me

It was then that you had noticed the big headline of your phone’s news app:

MODEL KISE RYOUTA CAUGHT RED-HANDED! IS ONE NOT ENOUGH? Steamy adventures in front of Shinjuku’s most famous love hotel!

It had been such a massive slap to the face, that the entire morning was foggy to you, reality hit you the moment you had stepped on school grounds.

Gossip. Rumors. Lies. Disgust. Aggression. Madness. Sadness.

No matter how hard you tried to avoid any ill-meant word from your classmates, you just couldn’t escape. Your belief in the man whom you called your beloved, the one who promised you that you’d always be the one in his eyes, the same one who swore that this endeavor was nothing but a misunderstanding, was starting to waver.

Suddenly everything started to make sense.

His distant behavior towards you, the increasing amount of modeling gigs he took on, your surprise visits during his training that he’d loved so much went unnoticed and that important topic he wanted to discuss with you on your next date. Everything.

You felt how all those negative feelings you had accumulated during these past few months started to come forth. Just as you were on the verge of tears and wanted to do nothing but fall to your knees, scream and cry you came across Moriyama and Yukio.

“(Y/N)! There you are! How long do you think I’ve been looking for you?!”

The tall man alongside your best friend was quick to notice that you were quite distraught and immediately took a hold of his captain’s shoulder and squeezed it slightly. You truly appreciated that these two were looking for you and intended to calm you down or encourage you to think positively and rationally about this, but right now you couldn’t manage to listen to their kind and caring words, so you apologized, thanked them, and headed straight towards the rooftop, the place where Kise had confessed to you.

As if on cue, your phone began vibrating and as you looked at the screen you saw that the incoming call was from no other than the man who’d been on your mind since the early morning.

“K-Kise...?”

“(Y/N)-cchi! Thank god, you picked up! I’m sorry for the short and sinister message this morning, but I had to clear some things with my managers first bef-“

“So your image was once again more important, huh?”

“W-What...?”

Before you could stop yourself from saying something you’d regret later, your mouth was unfortunately quicker.

“Lately I hardly recognize you, Kise, it’s as if you’ve become an entirely different person. First, you confess your love to me all sheepishly, blushing from head to toe, then you treat me like I’m the center of the world and the only reason you live for, but as of late you’ve been prioritizing your work more than our joint time. I tried to be understanding, I really did, but if you asked me out just so that you could fulfill some kind of goal and boast to whoever with it, then I’m really the wrong person for this.”

Nothing but silence came from the other end of the line, so you took this as a sign to continue.

“Listen, Kise, I don’t need nor expect you to adore me as if I’m some kind of deity, but I at least would like to know what the backstory to today’s tabloid news meant...and I sincerely hope that you aren’t going to trot out some lame excuse because I wouldn’t be able to handle it.“

“...(Y/N)“

“I’ll see you this Saturday Kise.“ you whispered as you ended the call without waiting for his answer.

——

You looked at yourself in the mirror, dreading what this date would mean for your future with the blond young man. The entire week-long you had deliberately avoided him in order to keep your thoughts as rational as you could and not let them get influenced by neither your feelings for him nor the supporting words of your friends. It was hard to ignore the guilty and worried stares he sent your way and whenever you saw the vicious glares others gave him, it really tugged at your heartstrings, but somehow you managed to withstand any possible temptation.

During the bus drive to the city center, you once again looked at the screenshot you took of the article that had caused you so much despair over the past few days. The blurry photo showed a tall blond man who was without a doubt Kise, trapping some girl whose face was covered by pixels between himself and the wall of the love hotel while the second one was pulling on his dark blue jacket, the same one which you had given him as his last year’s birthday present. Judging by the image alone it did look like Kise and the two girls were on their way to the rather flashy establishment, but your boyfriend couldn’t quite hold himself back and decided to start on the fun beforehand.

Cheating, huh...?

You bit your lip and thought about it. A famous and perky guy like him already had a stable fangirl club that followed him at each step so him feeling tempted during your time as a couple wouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest and yet it pained you so much that you could’ve started crying right then and there in front of all the other people that were sitting in the bus with you.

The city was brimming with people left and right, exiting and entering shops and restaurants. Today should’ve marked a happy occasion since it was the first public date the two of you had ever planned while the streetlights were still off. You had agreed to meet right in front of a small cafe that was close to the station and wasn’t one of the popular hangout spots so that you could at least have some sense of privacy. Each step you took fueled your anxiety of what was about to come and no matter how many deep breaths you took, you just couldn’t calm your raging heart down.

You finally saw a blond head sticking out among the crowd and just as you were about to raise your hand and wave to him, you halted. Kise was apparently not alone and had come alongside yet another girl who was constantly clinging to his arm, trying to get him to move.

“What did I even expect...?”

The crowd before you started to disappear and the two of them finally came into full view, but so did you. His yellow eyes met with your glassy ones and you could immediately see how regret and sorrow distorted his already distressed face.

“(Y/N)-cchi, wait...i-it’s not what it looks like..!”

You felt something warm fall down your cheeks and without paying it any mind you simply turned around and began walking back where you came from. Kise’s desperate calls for you to wait up were ignored and whenever his voice seemed too close to you, you sped up but he was too persistent. Despite the dense crowd you constantly walked amongst he never lost track of you.

(Y/N)-cchi! Please wait!

It’s all a misunderstanding, I promise you!

Listen to me, please!

(Y/N)!

You were trying to isolate his desperate pleas to such an extent that you hadn’t noticed the park you had just walked in. There were barely any people who strolled around this small yet beautiful piece of nature. The thought of elderly people walking their pets here, children running around and couples occupying the benches made you imagine just what excellent spot this would’ve been for a proper first date...

The young man behind you had used the time you were lost in thoughts to close the distance between you, but as soon as had returned from your small daydream and noticed how close he was to you, your body involuntarily urged you to run. And you did.

N-No, wait...!

You were fully aware of what you were doing, and you felt terrible for it. Kise’s leg had been injured for quite some time and he was told to not overdo it, which meant that he had to renounce running for most of the time so that he had enough energy and leg power left for his basketball matches.

And yet why..?

Why was he running after you as if his life depended on it? As if it was the last point his team needed for victory? Why?

You stopped sprinting and swiftly turned around. The man who had been an arm’s reach from you didn’t expect your sudden halt and collided with you, but luckily he caught you just before you lost your footing and pulled you towards his heaving chest. His trembling arms wrapped around your body and tightened their grip.

“Finally...”

The way he hugged you made all the wonderful and sweet memories of your life with him came up, leaving you with no other option but to return his embrace with the same amount of love.

“Kise...are you crazy? Why did you start running after me with your injured leg?” you asked after a short while and even though your question was intended to sound like a lecture, it ended up having a worrisome tone instead.

“This small amount of pain is nothing compared to the pain I made you feel these past few weeks.”

A small smile adorned your lips, but at the same time, you had to continuously think about all the things that had happened in this week alone, causing your smile to vanish almost immediately. You wanted answers and you needed them now.

“Kise, please...I want you to-“

“Explain. Yes, I know.” he interrupted and slowly backed up, looking you directly into your eyes.

After he’d taken hold of your hands, he began by defusing the situation that had transpired some mere seconds ago. The girl that was tugging on him was apparently a fan of his who’d drunk one too many beers. She’d unintentionally run into him and had almost lost her balance, but as caring as he was he held onto her and that’s when she had found out his true identity. Kise tried to keep her as silent and calm as possible, but that was easier said than done. The moment you had arrived was when she had started pulling his clothes, pleading him to come to her house and sign all of her merch.

“So about that article...on that day we had a photo shooting in Shinjuku and I was asked to take a break so I wandered about and that’s when two girls came from the love hotel. I wasn’t disguised so they immediately recognized me and tried to ask me out and whatnot. They were so persistent that I told them about you...they thought I was lying and then...”

You saw his sudden change in demeanor, his jaw muscles had tensed up and his grip on your hands was harder than earlier. Kise was rarely mad at something or someone, but what you saw before you, that anger and unspoken hatred were a first for the normally cheerful young man.

“They began insulting you, saying how you were together with me just because of my looks and nothing more. How dare they talk you down to their level? Just who do they think they are?!”

You expected any random excuse but seeing him get so worked up for your sake made your heart ache and now that you knew the backstory, the pictures made more sense. Your lover explained that he’d lost his temper and had pushed the girl who’d trash-talked you against the wall, warning her to keep her mouth shut before he really lost it. Meanwhile, her friend had tried to get him away from her by pulling on his jacket, and apparently, that’s when one of the passersby shot the photo. He took a short break after telling you that and then out of nowhere he brought his face closer to your own.

“(Y/N)-cchi...that’s not all. Do you remember our phone call when you told me that I’ve changed?“ he asked and waited for your confirmation before continuing, “...well the reason I didn’t call you first and had to deal with my manager is that we considered making my relationship with you public.”

“Wh-What...?“

“I’ve had enough of people trying to flirt with me and not believing when I say that I’ve found the perfect partner already. You see...graduation is just a few months away and after that I wanted to concentrate more on our relationship, hoping that maybe you’d like to...to live together with me.“

If you weren’t shocked enough before then his proposal just know had given you the finishing blow. Your heart was beating so fast and so loud that you feared he could’ve heard it.

“Was...was this the reason you took on so many jobs?”

He noded in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t feel confident enough to propose such an idea when it seems so far away and unrealistic, so I wanted to gain some sense of stability and independence before I asked you.”

Kise continued his explanation, but you didn’t catch most of it since you were so lost in your thoughts. The man before you had taken so many overtime shifts, had sacrificed so many of your dates, had gotten himself in a scandal for your sake, and yet here you were doubting him and doing something so childish like running away from him. You bit your lower lip and jumped into his arms, silently apologizing to your lover for your presumptuous behavior. He simply returned your embrace and kissed your temple.

Sometimes, misunderstandings such as these do have their benefits...

#knb scenarios #kise x reader #kise ryota x reader #knb fluff #knb angst #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years

Text

“QUEER”

First of all, let’s clear up a common misconception. Queer does not just mean gay. It’s an umbrella term for an identity which deviates from society’s perceived norm: heterosexual, or straight. Queer can refer to sexualities — gay, bisexual, pansexual, — or it can refer to being gender-queer; i.e, any label that deviates from the perceived gender norm: the binaries, male and female.

“Queer” is a reclaimed slur.

If you do not fall under the umbrella of queerness, it is safe to assume that you cannot use it. At all.

I am bisexual.

This means I experience attraction to plural genders. Pansexual also works fine. For the difference between bisexual and pansexual — see here:

Being bisexual isn’t easy. I went through similar hardships to gay women: I experienced attraction to women and was scared of what this meant for me, in such an oppressively homophobic society.

I am not saying being bisexual is harder than being gay, nor the inverse. But my experiences are distinctly bisexual, not gay.

Without further ado, here are the 3 things I’ve found to be the hardest about being queer, but not gay (enough).

#1: Finding My Place

Or, not being queer enough

I always knew I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know what I was. Up until recently, I was still questioning. This didn’t feel enough to join groups or conversations with LGBT+ folk, let alone go to pride. Was I even LGBT if I was never L, G, B, or T?

I am still yet to attend a pride, even though I identify (fairly confidently) as bisexual. I am in a relationship with a man. This is (problematically) known as a “straight-passing relationship” and makes me feel even more undeserving of a place at pride.

This has been upsetting to me at times. But for others, it can be outright devastating. Growing up and needing support, but feeling like you’re ‘not gay enough’ to ask for it? So many young people are being left alone and afraid. Finding others like you is vital to figuring out who you are. Likewise, finding spaces which are safe and inclusive is vital for anyone, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. A friend of mine happens to be a transgender man, and he summed up the issue perfectly:

“One thing that I keep noticing is how all hangout spots are “gay bars”, or (far less common) “lesbian bars”. I’m a straight man, so I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be there, but hanging out at regular bars is still too much of a gamble, so I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

It goes without saying that gay folk aren’t always safe in these spaces, as seen by the homophobic attack on the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, in 2016. Bigotry hurts the entire LGBT+ community. Bigotry doesn’t stop to ask whether you identify as gay or otherwise queer before it pulls the trigger.

But the LGBT+ community itself is much more welcoming to those who “pick a side” and just come out as gay, already. The infighting is inexplicable when one looks to attacks such as that in Orlando: bigots don’t care which letter you are in the acronym. So why does gatekeeping exist when we need to be strong in the face of intolerance when fragmentation only makes us weaker? Who are we helping by continuing to exclude identities from the discussion?

#2: Myths and Misconceptions

Well, it stands to reason that if bisexuals are what they seem in TV and movies, why would anyone want to make them feel included? They’re “greedy” and inauthentic. They’re attention-seeking, not to mention their propensity for threesomes. Now, I haven’t been in a wild orgy yet, but it seems like it will only be a matter of time before I follow my natural path.

Straight men, in particular, need to own up to their assumption that bisexual women are down for a threesome. The thing is, we are. But not with you, you big ASSUMER.

Infidelity

All jokes aside, the stereotyping of bisexuals is not only hurtful, but leads to difficulties finding and maintaining relationships.

As I came to terms with my bisexuality, I also had to accept that I might never be fully trusted by my partner, regardless of their gender or sexuality. I was shocked when my partner reacted to my coming out with the equivalent of a shrug — so much so, that I burst into tears of gratitude that my soul-bearing moment hadn’t been met with slut-shaming or assumptions of disloyalty. Nothing has changed. If anything, our bond is even stronger for me having been more authentic after coming out.

But cruelty came from elsewhere: when I came out, I was told that my partner was to be pitied, either because I’m gay and in denial, or bound to cheat on him. The main consequence of such attitudes has been the crippling fear of coming out to my partner. It saddens me that I felt so relieved when he accepted me for being who I am, and loving him just the same as I always have.

This outcome is not the case for many couples, with straight folk worried that their bisexual partner will realise they’re gay and just leave them. This fear of abandonment comes from a place of ignorance. When the media presents bisexuality as a steppingstone on the way to “picking a team”, it’s no wonder that people struggle to trust their queer partners.

Other Queer Myths

The myth that all trans folk medically transition invalidates those who choose not to do so, and let’s not forget the ignorant jeers that it's all just a mental illness. Asexual folk battle the stereotype that they can never have a relationship and shall forever remain a virgin (because what an awful thing that would be, right?) And pansexuals… well, at the lighter end, they’re asked if they have sex with cooking utensils. But often, they’re erased as irrelevant because “we already have the label bisexual”.

This brings us onto the third and final difficulty that comes with queer folk who aren’t easily categorizable as gay: erasure.

#3: Erasure

Erasure refers to the denial of an identity’s existence or its validity as a label.

Non-binary folk face ongoing and loud claims that they simply do not exist. This is despite the historical and scientific evidence to the contrary. Plus, the most important evidence — them, existing. Asexual folk are told they simply have not found the right person yet, or that they are just afraid of sex. Demi-sexual folk are told “everyone feels like that, unless they’re just sleeping around!”. And bisexuals are dismissed as simply being in denial that they’re gay.

Monosexuality & The Gender Binary

Our culture is so built on monosexuality (being solely attracted to one gender — for instance, gay or straight). Monosexuality is reinforced through everything from marriage to dating apps, the media to what we teach in schools. People cannot fathom that someone might want to experience more than one gender in their lifetime.

The binary models of sex and gender are also deeply ingrained. These rigid belief systems combined are to blame for our inability to accept that bisexuals do not need to “pick a side”. I was paralysed by fear for 17 years because I found girls attractive and that might mean I’m gay, because bisexuals are just gays who haven’t realised they’re gay yet.

Bierasure

Bierasure is dangerous, firstly because it leads a child to have to internalise both biphobia and homophobia. For instance, I had to work through being taught to hate gayness, whilst being taught that any attraction to non-male genders made me gay.

Women were cute, and so I was gay, and this meant I was disgusting.

My own mother told me this. She also told me that something has “gone wrong in the womb” for a child to be gay. (Well, Mum, I’ve got some bad news about your womb!)And she, like any bigot, extended this theory to anyone who experiences same-sex attractions — anyone queer. This is another reason why bi-erasure is perilous. Whether you’re a gay, cis-male or a demi-bisexual, trans woman… if your parents will kick you out for being gay, they will likely kick you out for being any sort of queer.

If we deny the bigotry that bisexuals undergo, we will continue to suffer. It won’t just go away. It will fester, with bisexuals having no one they can go to who believes them. And thus:

Erasure Kills

Bullying and suicide rates of queer-but-not-gay people continue to sky-rocket. We must direct funding, support and compassion to every queer individual, as they are all vulnerable to discrimination and bullying. The problem is being left to fester. This is in part because bigots treat all queer labels as just ‘gay’, deeming them equally unworthy. This is how far erasure can go.

Conclusion

Earlier on, I stated that my experiences are distinctly bisexual. The same applies to any queer identity.

Emphasising our differing paths and struggles is important to avoid the aforementioned erasure of already less visible groups. But this does not mean that the LGBT+ community should be fragmented by these differences.

If we can unite in our hope to live authentically and love freely, we will be stronger against bigotry. We are fighting enough intolerance from without: there is no need to create more from within.

So out of everything, what’s the hardest part about being bisexual?

It’s the fact that nobody knows it’s this hard.

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moon-chlld · 2 years

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life update

henlo, I just wanted a place where I can post my thoughts and feelings where it doesn't necessarily reach anyone in particular. If it does that's great! But I kind of just need to look busy at work right now lmao and I have a lot of emotions I'd like to write out.

Right now, I have a great job honestly. I still have trouble with motivation and seeing the point in sitting at a desk all day, but at least I get paid decently and it's in the field in I studied in! I really can't complain about my work, I'm super lucky to have it. Which...is why I've been guilty and disappointed in myself this week. I let my old habits get the best of me and I didn't go to work on Tuesday. My boss was on vacation at the time so I thought I could play a little hooky. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way and I got in trouble. It's so dumb that I even thought it would be okay to do that, but I did it anyway and severely regret it. I hope I never do it again and honestly, I think I'm getting better at sucking it up and going to work, I just let my laziness get the best of me that day and it sucks.

Another reason it sucks is because this week was supposed to be perfect and fun, and I ruined it by own actions. I'm still trying to get past the bad vibes from that day but it's so hard and I'm so tired lol. I also wish I had New Year's Eve off, buuut I think I'll get off an hour early so that's a plus. I just have to think positively I guess ughhh lol!

Now I can talk about the fun stuff I suppose! I recently got into my first relationship in August, and it's just been amazing and so magical. I really can't believe I found someone who loves me as much as I love them and are so accepting of me and all my flaws. I really never thought I'd be able to find someone like that for me. Funny enough, it was through a dating app! My life has changed so drastically since August. I started my full-time job and a committed relationship basically at the same exact time.

I'm also making friends again, I think. My partner has one close friend here in ABQ (he's from CA) that I love, she is so funny and cool! I hope she considers me a friend too, haha! I also love my coworkers, they're really nice, funny, mature, and super helpful (they're both older than me by at least 10 years).

Next year (literally next month) my best friend is having her bachelorette party and I'm sooo happy and excited for her! We're just spending a few days up in a cabin to chill, smoke, drink, and play in the snow. Magical! Her wedding is in March and I'm a bridesmaid!

My partner and I may be calling each other fiancés, by the way, lol! He sort of proposed to me during a beautiful night while we were watching the stars and city lights. I took him to the foothills and made the trunk of my CRV super comfy with fairy lights and everything because he was having a really hard time that week with family and mental illness. He did make a point that because he didn't have a ring that it wasn't the official proposal he will be doing later lol!

Anyway, the reason THIS week is exciting for me is because my family is out of state! They left to visit family in CA but I had to stay for work (and because I didn't really want to go). So, I basically have the house to myself this whole week and it's been so nice (besides the stress from work lol). My mom doesn't approve of me spending the night with my partner because we're not married lmao so that's why this week is special because we get to spend all the time we want together outside of work! We're also planning on spending New Year's Eve together with our friend, we're going to do make your own pizzas, board games, video games, movies, snacks, annnd yea! I got a cold sore right before Christmas so we haven't been able to kiss in a hot minute and we're saving it for midnight this Friday! It's kind of torture but also super sweet that he wants to even do that lol!

I think that's all, we're also planning on moving in together next year which my mom also doesn't approve of buuut I'm doing it anyway ahhh. My mom's very religious and pro-purity culture so it's...very toxic and I can't wait to move out ughhh. I've been wanting to live on my own since I can remember! Alright, I'm done, happy new year!

#personal

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

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Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Three

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1740

Warnings: Nosy (and well-meaning) friends acting like nosy siblings, angst, bad language words

A/N: After I originally posted this chapter on AO3, I got some comments that exacerbated the beginnings of a year long depression. Please be kind. I intended this chapter to come across as the gang being like siblings...always being in each other’s business. Is there a breach of privacy? Yes, but without the ill-intent.

DO NOT copy or replicate without permission

Bucky clutched his phone in his flesh hand as he made his way down a long hallway to the communal kitchen and eating area. A soft, crooked smile rested at his lips as he entered the space. Natasha and Sam were sitting at opposite ends of the rectangular table separating the kitchen from the lounge, enjoying a late breakfast. Steve was at a kitchen counter fiddling with the Keurig machine. He pulled another mug from the cupboard when he saw Bucky approach. “Mornin’, Buck. Sleep well?”

Bucky’s grin broadened as he leaned his backside against the countertop. “I did, actually. Thanks for asking,” he answered, looking to his phone at the incoming text.

(Y/N) Would you rather have skin that changes color based on your emotions or tattoos appear all over your body, depicting what you did the day before?

He missed the way Sam and Nat looked at each other in suspicion at his answer to Steve. He was too busy pressing the keys on his touch-screen.

Bucky The tattoos would be awkward, speaking from a male’s perspective, so I think color changing would be better. Not by much, though.

Bucky Would you rather have edible spaghetti hair that regrows every night or sweat maple syrup?

Bucky saw Steve slide the new mug, now filled with coffee, across the granite-top toward him from the corner of his eye. He glanced up quickly from the screen and nodded. “Thanks, buddy.” Steve answered with a smile.

“What, no grunted thanks or mumbled acknowledgment?” Natasha quipped, standing from her seat to place her plate in the dishwasher.

“Yeah, man. You have been using way too many words lately. I miss the grumpy dude that would brood in the corner,” Sam added, crossing his arms at his chest. “Are we even sure this is the right Bucky?”

Bucky’s phone vibrated again.

(Y/N) I love me some spaghetti! Can you imagine sweating sticky, gooey maple syrup during a humid New York summer?? Your clothes would be toast.

(Y/N) Mmmm, french toast.

Bucky chuckled at the reply, drawing the attention of three sets of eyes.

Sam wasn’t wrong; he wasn’t the same Bucky.

It had been five days since (Y/N)’s first drunken texts. Five days. He couldn’t believe so little time had passed. Somehow, (Y/N) had wiggled her way under his skin.

He had noticed after only a day or two; he was smiling more, less volatile. He felt lighter, happier. He wasn’t skulking about the compound like usual, trying to avoid the rest of the team. Some might go as far as to say he was friendlier than usual.

It felt good to have someone, a friend, learning about the real James Buchanan Barnes, for once, without the threat of The Soldier clouding their perception of him.

“You’re freaking me out, man. Straight outta Invasion of the Body Snatchers or some shit,” Sam declared, rising from his chair.

“Hold on, Sam,” Steve placated, lifting a hand to the advancing man. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to Bucky’s good mood lately.”

Bucky set his jaw in frustration, the muscles ticking. He wasn’t a Pod Person. He was just happy, for the first time in seventy-five years.

His phone went off again.

(Y/N) Would you rather sneeze once every hour, on the hour, or burp every time you saw an attractive girl?

A wide smile split his mouth as he scanned the screen.

Bucky Am I sneezing in my sleep or just when I’m awake?

When Bucky brought his gaze back up to his teammates, he noticed Natasha’s own eyes flick down to his phone. The slightest smirk curved the corner of her lips.

“It’s curious,” she said, a perfect eyebrow inched higher to her hairline. “All the people you text are in this room, yet, you haven’t been able to pull yourself away from your phone.” Her eye contact never wavered from Bucky’s face. “Don’t ya think that’s odd, fellas?”

“Natalia,” Bucky warned, his voice gruff. He knew she was fishing.

Sam laughed boisterously. “Yeah, I noticed that the other day. It’s glued to your hip nowadays.”

“It could be anyone from the team, guys,” Steve reasoned. “I bet it’s Tony.”

Bucky became increasingly agitated as the redhead slinked closer, passing his phone back and forth between his hands.

Natasha shook her head in the negative. “Nuh-uh,” she said, leaning against the counter directly beside Bucky. A hair’s breadth of space separated their shoulders from one another. Tipping back, with her elbows propped against the hard surface, she kicked her legs out casually and crossed her feet at the ankle. “Those two have barely said two words to each other since the good Sergeant here was welcomed back into the fold. It’s not Tony.”

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” Steve replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I bet it’s a girl,” Sam said in a sing-song voice. “But, where would Ice Man here meet a girl?”

Natasha smiled while looking at Sam as he stepped closer to the trio. “Let’s find out, shall we?” She nodded to Sam and, without batting an eye, lunged at Bucky.

She tapped the underside of the hand holding the phone, causing the device to flip up into the air.

Though he hadn’t seen the attack coming, Bucky’s reflexes were cat-like, and he easily caught the phone in his opposite hand.

Unfortunately, Natasha was just as quick and knocked the phone from his hand again. She effortlessly swatted it out of the air and into her hand. As Bucky clamored to retrieve the cell phone, she swung her arm behind her back and tossed it into the waiting hands of Sam.

By looking at Sam’s broad smile, Bucky knew he was having a field day at his expense. He pounced on his teammate, grappling for possession of the device. He wasn’t sorry for elbowing the other man harder than he ever would if they were sparring each other. He needed his fucking phone back!

Sam managed to flick the phone over his other shoulder in the process of Bucky grabbing ahold of Sam’s wrist and twisting the same arm behind his body. It clattered to the ground at Steve’s feet.

As everyone stared at the cell phone lying prone on the tile floor, Sam backed Bucky into the cabinets, trapping him with his body. “Let me go, Bird Brain!” Bucky huffed.

Steve bent to pick the phone up, holding it in his hand. Bucky could see the war playing within Steve’s blue eyes as he struggled against Sam. Steve was just as curious as the other two but didn’t want to betray his friend.

Natasha quickly snatched the device from Steve and started thumbing at the screen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Steve protested.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to put a passcode on your phone, Barnes?” Natasha tsked as she navigated to the messaging app.

Bucky knew the exact second she found what she was looking for because her eyes became comically wide. A feral, shit-eating grin crossed her mouth as she raised a brow again.

“Tell me about (Y/N).”

“What?” Steve questioned, crowding the red head. “Lemme see.”

Bucky felt his cheeks go aflame as Natasha angled the screen so Steve could see the message thread. They burned hotter as Steve looked up with his own shit-eating smirk.

“Well, well…” Sam piped up. “If your faces are anything to go by, Vanilla Ice’s still got game.” Bucky twisted his arm back further in retaliation causing Sam to grunt in discomfort.

Bucky watched as Natasha’s thumb skimmed along the screen to delve deeper into past messages. Her thumb stopped as she read a passage; her green eyes rapidly followed the lines of text.

“I always kinda figured you’d be into someone that would call you out on your BS. She sounds fun,” Natasha said as she continued to scroll.

“No one’s into anyone. We’re just friends,” Bucky murmured.

Steve’s head shot up to stare at his best friend, sorrow painting his features. He edged away from Natasha. “Does she know who you are?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head no. “And she never will.”

“Aww, but you guys sound so cute together,” Natasha pouted. Bucky frowned at the insinuation. It couldn’t ever happen.

“There aren’t any rules saying we can’t date,” Natasha mentioned. “Hell, you know how many times I tried to set up this big lug?” She motioned to Steve with her thumb.

“That’s different,” Bucky said after a few moments. He eased up slightly on Sam’s arm.

“How so?”

Bucky rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, the blush starting again. “He’s Captain America, and well, I’m not. Not exactly everyone’s favorite.” He downcast his eyes to the floor.

“Buck, you know that’s not true,” Steve said woefully. “It’ll just take some time.”

“I know, Stevie. Until then, though, I’m still a pariah.”

The super soldier serum couldn’t have been given to a better person, but Bucky always felt like he would be trapped in Steve’s shadow, no matter the amount of good he did. He would still feel weak for what Hydra did to him, or not good enough to be labeled Captain America’s best friend.

Feeling the room take a considerable turn toward somber, Natasha called out, “Holy shit, Barnes! You used Wilson’s toothbrush to clean your toilet?”

“What?!” all three male voices cried out.

Sam rushed forward, trying to see the proof for himself. “You’re a dead man!”

Freed from the weight of Sam’s body, Bucky leaped forward toward Natasha and Sam. Slamming into Sam’s back, he snaked an arm around the other man, reaching frantically for his phone. He was done with them spying on his non-existent personal life.

Bucky smacked against Sam’s hands and arms, trying to dislodge the device.

“Stop!” Sam bellowed. “You’re hitting me like an eleven-year-old girl!”

“Gimme back my phone!” Bucky shouted.

Suddenly, the sound of ringing filled the small space of the kitchen. The scuffling stopped in an instant as everyone tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. Sam glimpsed down at his hands and jumped apart from Bucky as if he’d been burned. He looked horrified!

“Oh, shit!” Sam exclaimed, shoving the phone back at Bucky.

“What did you do?!” Bucky screeched when he realized the ringing was coming from his phone on speaker.

The sound ended abruptly, only to be replaced with the gentle tinkle of a woman’s voice.

“James?”

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

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