#it's not often i'm proud of my country

[hacash]

also there’s no pithy, Tumblr-friendly way of simultaneously saying ‘Rishi Sunak being a man of colour doesn’t let him off the hook for the crappy Tory policies he’ll undoubtedly install’

and ‘the left needs to make sure that their criticism of Rishi Sunak does not veer into racism because directing racism at Tories does not make said racism acceptable’ 

and ‘Britain having its first British Asian PM is a big freaking deal and is going to be significant to Brits of colour across the political spectrum’ 

and 'the fact that Rishi Sunak has not been elected by the general public in such a time of political upheaval is just plain appalling, ‘mandate from the people’ my arse’

but that doesn’t mean it isn’t all true

[izzy-b-hands]

im ngl i had a lil breakdown before my shower (which i took just before i went to bed to chill and watch the new eps) abt some thought-id-already-worked-all-thru-it irl stuff that resurfaced on me like trauma tends to and i just

it made everything in the show so. I don't know how to say it right. but i feel seen and understood and emotionally overwhelmed in a safe yet weird way, just like i did with a lot of s1 and I am Feeling So Much akdnfkgb (i cannot stress enough that this is a Good Thing and I'm absolutely thrilled and happy with the new eps and like. Going to be fine mentally I just gotta wrangle this like i have the times before.)

[arctic-hands]

Someone else on one of my genealogical groups asked for how to access records on the Service du travail obligatoire, France's slave labor program to Nazi Germany. I've been looking for online access to those records for years since I found my great-grandparents in the Arolsen Archive as forced laborers in Munich. I can't help this person because I still haven't found that resource so I'm throwing it out here, anyone know where I and this other person (whom I am presuming is also American) can find records or other resources?

[umilily]

my phone just reminded me that it's my one year anniversary of living abroad today...

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[buckys-metal-arm]

Comfort

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.

Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"

A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.

-------------------------------------------------------

1930

One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him. 

1942

Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country. 

When in reality?

 He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted. 

He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young. 

“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…” 

Now

Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious. 

“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?” 

“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…” 

“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…” 

You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?” 

He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly. 

“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?” 

Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him. 

“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?” 

He didn't give you a chance to respond. 

“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–” 

“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.” 

His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze. 

“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.

“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.” 

The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.

[sykostyles]

melodies | 1.0

summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k

warnings: none this time around!

a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!

Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown. 

He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.  

Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.

“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.

“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.

“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”

“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed. 

He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.

It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.

Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites. 

“And may you grow to be proud

Dignified and true..”

Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.

“And do unto others

As you'd have done to you..”

He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.

“Be courageous and be brave

And in my heart you'll always stay

Forever young, forever young

Forever young, forever young”

Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence. 

“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,

“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.

“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.

“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”

“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll,  “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.

Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you. 

Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.

“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.

“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.

“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”

“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”

“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.

“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”

“Sty–”

“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.

“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”

“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”

You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.

An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”

“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.

“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”

“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.

“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.

“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.

“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence. 

“And my best friend is betting against me!”

“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”

“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.

“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you. 

“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.

“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”

“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.

“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”

“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”

“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer.. 

You just roll your eyes.

Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.

A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?” 

“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”

“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”

“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.

“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.

“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.

Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.

A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”

“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?

Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.

“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”

“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”

Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.

“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.

“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.

“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.

“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.

“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;

“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”

“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.

“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up. 

As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.

Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”

“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him

“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.

“And how did she sound?”

“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.

“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one. 

“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you. 

“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.

“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.

“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”

“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”

“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.

“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”

“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”

“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’

“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”

“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”

“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.

“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.

“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.

“B-bye, Styles.”

“Harry,”

“If you impress me, then maybe.”

[morallyinept]

I don't rant very often - it's negative energy that I don't want or need in my life - but I feel that as a fan of Pedro Pascal, I'd like to take a moment to highlight what being a fan actually means.

As clearly, some people, some "fans", have demonstrated having a hard time grasping that concept...

Being a fan of Pedro Pascal means I enjoy his career, his portfolio of works.

Sure, I enjoy his physical looks too; the man is certainly as handsome as they come, let's be real here. Yes, I find him attractive.

More importantly, I enjoy what Pedro stands for; his beliefs, his passions. He stands up for injustice, he is an LGBTQIA+ advocate and friend. He is a feminist. He is politcal. He's proud of his heritage.

Is Pedro perfect? Do I believe the sun shines out of his ass? No, he's human and has flaws and off days like the rest of us.

Ain't no-one that is perfect, babe. That's delusion talking if you truly believe that.

I enjoy that Pedro inspires me to be a better human being.

Being a true fan, to me, means only positive things.

It means respect.

It means respecting Pedro's boundaries, be that in person, or online.

It means respecting Pedro's privacy. He has the right, just like any one of us, to a personal life seperate from his career.

Pedro doesn't have to answer to you, me, or anyone else about his private life.

You are not entitled to him, or his time, just because he is a celebrity. (God, I fucking hate that word.) He does not owe you anything, and nor should he be expected to.

Pedro Pascal is a human being.

As a fan of Pedro, I will not write fanfic about him. Only his characters, because his characters are primarily the reason why I admire Pedro. His characters are how I discovered Pedro to begin with.

He can make me laugh, cry, fall in love, wince when he loses an arm, gasp when he double crosses the protagonist. I can survive a fungal apocalypse with his characters by my side.

That's an incredible testament to his talent as an actor that no matter what role he plays, I don't see Pedro on the screen. I only see his characters.

It's his job and he enjoys it. As a fan, I enjoy his craft.

If you do write about Pedro, that's up to you and I am not going to judge, but for me personally, it's a hard no. And I won't be reading any of it either, sorry.

As a fan of Pedro, I can draw the line between fantasy and reality. Meaning, I would never go out of my way to invite, devise, plant myself in deliberately, or exploit a situation where Pedro is in my personal space, or I in his.

Firstly, I'm a realist. And secondly if I ever met the guy, chances are I'd walk right past him and not even notice. (It's happened a lot, not with Pedro but with other actors etc... I live in the capital, there are a lot of them here.)

And thirdly, I am not a stalker.

I would never intentionally track him down in another country whilst he is working or vacationing, and then post about how slighted I am on IG that he told me to politely leave him alone because I was too persistent in getting too close. I would never relocate and uproot my life just to live near him in the hopes we bump into one another and fall desperately in love. 🙄

This is real life people, not a movie.

This kind of behaviour from Pedro's so-called fans is questionable, and frankly concerning to anyone with a sane mind.

I would also never bully or belittle anyone because their fan account is more popular than mine. I would never actively enforce or seek to enforce the deliberate closure of any fan accounts because I am petty or jealous.

Unfortunately this has happened and I am sorry to have heard about those who were affected by it - you did not deserve that.

Sadly, all these things have happened. For real. And it's utterly gross behaviour from, in most cases, fully grown women who are old enough to know better.

We are all here to enjoy and support Pedro, so why is that such a hard concept to grasp? Why does fandom have a toxic corner?

I'll tell you why.

Because thanks to social media, and platforms like Tumblr, it's all too easy to sit faceless behind a keyboard and do and say whatever you want, without any real consequence.

There are always a few bad eggs, in any fandom, who feel they are superior, that they know everything. That because they found a new image or a clip first that they are entitled to police everything. That they are entitled to dictate how fandom should be run.

I've got news for you; you're not.

Fandom is inclusive, sharing, a creative hub for ideas, inspiration. A place to forge friendships, relationships because you have common ground. The coming together of like-minded individuals to celebrate and endorse their admiration for their idol in a safe, non-threatening place.

A place for creativity to flow, for confidence in yourself to grow. To create original stories from canon, to create unique head canon because we don't want these lovable characters to die. To paint amazing pictures. To get excited over Pedro's new projects and discuss your favourites.

That's fandom. That's being a fan.

Being a fan doesn't mean creating, spreading, peddling or posting harmful material that 1) is frankly abhorrently disgusting and is not only insulting to Pedro, but also his family, his friends etc... and 2) could also be potentially damaging to his career.

I am referring to the vile deepfake of Pedro currently doing the rounds now on Tumblr because some idiot thought it was funny to clog up our timelines with it.

I don't want, or need, to see that, thanks.

And whoever created it originally should be fucking ashamed of themselves. I would wholly encourage you to report and block any accounts that have done this.

Imagine how you would feel if your face, your image was used and violated in that way.

You'd be outraged, right? Hurt? Sickened?

This kind of manipulation of AI is exactly what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA are concerned about and were/are striking for.

What Pedro is striking for, and then someone has the gall to pull this sickening stunt.

It's what artists are concerned about. What writers are concerned about. AI wasn't created to be abused in this way.

So, what makes you think that all this behaviour is acceptable to do to a man, who is nothing but generous and kind?

A man who would give you help, no questions asked, if he ran into you, in his own words:

And you have the audacity to call yourselves fans?

A man who, if he knew, what his "fans" do, I'm certain he would be absolutely disgusted and not condone any of it.

☝🏻Let me make it abundantly clear:

If you have looked for, deliberately searched for, posted, jerked off to, liked or shared that vile deepfake clip, video, pic - whatever the fuck it is - in any way then, YOU ARE NO FAN OF PEDRO PASCAL.

And I am certainly no fan of yours.

Do better. Don't be a dick.

[okuhle23]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS- 019

Hi guys, I'm back with more astrology observations!!

If you'd like a paid reading, 👉click here 👈

If you would like to check out my other astrology observations, check me out at @okuhle23 .

☆People with Venus in Capricorn/ Venus conjunct Saturn age so beautifully. This placement may mean that you start putting more effort in how you look at a older age. It may also mean that you may experience a later glowup. This is because Saturn represents aging and delays while Venus rules beauty.

☆Leo rules hot and humid air, so countries ruled by Leo may experience very hot summers. Examples include:  Afghanistan, India, Zanzibar, Chad, Indonesia, Malaysia, Maldives, and Pakistan.

☆People with Moon/Virgo in the 6th may really love animals, and may be really attached to their own pets if they have any.

☆People with Neptune in the 1st may constantly experience people making assumptions about them based on how they look or dress. Neptune rules assumptions and the 1st house shows your appearance. This placement can also indicate being idealized by people who don't even know you well, these people are like a fantasy to others.

☆Neptune conjunct Mars/Pluto can make you appear rather sexual and promiscuous, you may also have many secret admirers. This is because Neptune represents illusions and Pluto/ Mars represents sex and things related to sex

☆Venus in the 3rd may date people in their neighbourhood, or their partners live very close to them. This is because Venus represents love/romantic relationships, while the 3rd house represents your local community.

☆Pluto or Scorpio in the 5th/7th house can mean that you prefer to keep your love life private. You probably don't like to show off your partner. You may also get extremely jealous if other people flirt with your partner. This is because Pluto/Scorpio represents secrets and jealousy while the 5th and 7th house shows ones relationships (5th house=casual relationships and 7th house=long-term relationships)

☆People with Neptune in the 1st/ 10th are be goofy as hell, some people may even view you as weird😂. This is because Neptune rules abnormal behavior, while the 1st and 10th house show how others see you.

☆People with Mars in the 6th/10th house may have dangerous jobs, or you may risk getting hurt on the job quite often(either burning yourself, or constantlyclimbing up high things). If you have an office job you may find that your colleagues see you as competition, and therefore treat you with hostility. This is because Mars rules danger, abrasions and hostility while the 6th and 10th houses represent your job.

☆Where Uranus is placed in you chart can show your aura, this is because Uranus rules auras:

▪︎ Uranus in the 1st: your aura colour is red❣️. You come off as strong, fierce and confident. Perhaps you've been told that you're intimidating at times, and you're also really competitive.

▪︎ Uranus in 2nd: your aura colour is green💚. You come off as beautiful, wealthy and at times, stubborn😭. You have a calming aura to you, you can reconnect with your true self by going into nature.

▪︎ Uranus in the 3rd: your aura colour is yellow💛. You are energetic, like to travel and explore different places and you are intellectual. Your aura is sometimes quite scattered, and may change often because of your changeable energy.

▪︎ Uranus in the 4th: your aura colour is white🤍. You are caring, kinda introverted and loyal. You aura can change often based on your emotions.

▪︎ Uranus in the 5th: your aura colour is gold🪙. You are loyal, proud and you have royal energy. People may view you as luxury loving, you like being spoiled.

▪︎ Uranus in the 6th: your aura colour is emerald green🌲. You are grounded, kind but sometimes a bit too self-critical (you pretty asf babe). People may view your energy as really stable and 'neat'. It may be hard to read your energy because you're good at putting up a front. 

▪︎ Uranus in the 7th: your aura colour is pink 💗. You are loving, romantic and beautiful. You may be a very cooperative, non-confrontational person and may be viewed as submissive by others.

▪︎ Uranus in the 8th: your aura colour is black  🖤. You are mysterious, intimidating and you are very loyal. You radiate sensual, seductive energy.

▪︎ Uranus in the 9th: your aura colour is orange🧡. You are outgoing, energetic and social. You may be viewed as a very busy person, always travelling or doing something.

▪︎ Uranus in the 10th: your aura colour is brown🤎. You are hardworking, confident(girlboss💸 ), and you really enjoy money. People may view you as bring really serious and you don't play about your money.

▪︎ Uranus in the 11th: your aura colour is blue💙. You are innovative, unique and intelligent. Your energy doesn't just fit into one category, one second you could be energetic and the other, you're lazy asf.

▪︎ Uranus in the 12th: your aura colour is purple💜. You are artistic, empathic and ethereal. You may be overly compassionate, so be careful of people who want to manipulate your energy.

☆Venus-Pluto hard aspects (square, opposition) can mean that other women hate on you out of jealousy or envy. This is because Pluto can show malice/ jealousy while Venus represents females.

☆Venus in the 3rd can indicate that you'll meet your future lover in your neighborhood. Or your partners may live close to you. This is because Venus rules love and romantic relationships while the 3rd house can represent the neighborhood you grew up in.

☆Ruler of the 1st house in the 2nd house can mean that you just look rich, or people assume that you're wealthy because of how you look or the clothes and accessories you wear. This is because the 1st house rules your appearance and first impressions and 2nd house can represent luxury and wealth. You may spend a lot of money on your looks (skincare, clothing, makeup etc).

Thank you for getting to the end 😊.

If you'd like a paid reading, 👉click here 👈

If you would like to check out my other astrology observations, check me out at @okuhle23

x Okuhle ❤️

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[changetyre]

Your Man II Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ⓈⒽ

SUMMARY: Your country-loving boyfriend loves to serenade you with his favorite songs more often than not...today is one of those days where he just goes the little extra mile.

WARNINGS: almost smut but mostly fluff

A/N: I'm having a block with writing smut but I was listening to my country playlist and this song came on which inspired me to write this. I also really enjoy writing stories along with songs so if you enjoyed please let me know cause I have a list of songs I've been wanting to write a story with.

You sat in your home back in Australia, having stayed back at the ranch this time you sat peacefully in the living room admiring the way the darkness began to cover the vast land Daniel had purchased with time.

The quiet times you had were few after falling in love with a man like Daniel Ricciardo who was all loud and energetic 100% of the time although you wouldn't complain since there was never a dull day around you.

It almost felt wrong sitting in silence for so long and being able to read more than a few pages of your book without being interrupted by a loud cry of attention or simply your man jumping on you for some cuddles.

Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand

You yelped in fear as the speaker system around the house blasted the song. You looked around your heart beating out of your chest trying to figure out what was going on.

I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling quite this strong

You placed a hand to your chest in relief as you saw your boyfriend walk through the front door singing along, a proud smirk on his face as he approached you.

You simply began laughing too used to your boyfriend's antics and serenades and despite knowing he should've been back in a few days it didn't surprise you that he found a way to get back to you earlier.

Daniel approached you on the couch leaning his body over you as he sang the next words.

I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man

Your smile was wider than ever, a common occurrence around him as he closed the gap locking his lips with yours.

There's no hurry, don't you worry We can take our time

Daniel missed signing the last 2 lines but after picking you up in his arms, resting his hands on your ass while you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist he didn't dare to miss the next.

Come a little closer, let's go over What I had in mind

"Ooo and what was that?" You smiled down at your boyfriend brushing your nose with his.

Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow

He answered along with the song making you laugh again as he carried you towards your room.

Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand

He wiggled his eyebrows with the last few lines as you bit your lip in excitement. Happiness radiated off you both.

You arrived in your bedroom, the music still clear as ever as your boyfriend had done an incredible job at putting a speaker in every single room in this house, music being a huge part of his personality.

He laid you down on your bed as he hovered over you.

I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling quite this strong

He kissed your neck lovingly.

I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man

He sang this time more quietly to your ear, making you whine in anticipation as the familiar tingles spread across your entire body.

He kissed you again this time more deeply as he let his hands roam your body. Although they came to cup your face.

Ain't nobody ever love nobody The way that I love you We're alone now You don't know how long I've wanted to

His smile was as bright as yours.

"I love you." You whispered to him letting him sing to you.

Lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand

He took your (his) shirt off you gently as he continued singing, but missed a few words as he began kissing down your chest, leaving a trail down your body. He sat up quickly stripping his own shirt off himself and letting you admire his body.

I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling that was quite this strong I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man

He was able to sing along as he stripped his jeans off, followed by his boxers. You were so glad you'd worn nothing under your pajama shorts today as he was able to simply move them to the side and align himself with you.

I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man

He finished singing just as he pushed into you. Ecstasy.

[hacash]

‘mummy, what was it like living through the great government crises in 2022? were you scared? did you lead protests? was there panic buying, was there looting, was there rioting in the streets?’

‘well, sweetheart, I made some top quality shitposts, I remember that much.’

[vivwritesfics]

warnings: mentions of death

Series Masterlist

"It's the first home race for Oscar Sainz and everybody is rooting for him."

Oscar was proud to be wearing orange as he stood on the circuit, listening his national anthem. The twenty four year old had his parents there, watching him and cheering him on.

He wanted his sister there, too, but she was busy. At nineteen years old, Valentina Sainz was running the Sainz family. Well, not completely, not yet. Carlos was still the head of the family, but Valentina did a lot. He was setting her up to take over the family one day.

So that her parents could watch Oscar, Tina stayed at home to take care of any work that needed doing. Her grandma was there too, helping her out. Women have always run this family, her grandma often said to her. There was one exception, Valentina's mother, but she let that part out.

By the time Tina was sixteen, she was used to having bloody knuckles. She loved the feeling of it, that might have made her a monster, but she didn't care. She loved seeing the imprint of the ring her father gave her on somebody's skin.

Valentina had watched Oscar's races on television whenever she could. When he moved into F2, she watched on the television with her mother, while Carlos travelled with him. The family hated being apart, but it was for Oscar. The Sainz family would do anything for their children.

Oscar was an insane rookie. Valentina had watched on the television as he scored points in almost every race in his first year. It was crazy just how good her brother was. It was a mystery to everybody how he hadn't gotten a seat until now.

Oscar brought along one big sponsor, his family. Of course, they were known as something else, a front of a company to hide the real nature the of Sainz family money.

Oscar scored points all the way through his rookie season. He finished eighth in the drivers championship, which his family understood to be incredibly good for a rookie.

For his last race of the season, Tina wanted to be there. Her grandma took over the role of head of the family for the weekend, with Carlos on speed dial, while they went to watch Oscar in Abu Dhabi.

He did incredibly well in his final race, achieving his first podium. His mother was crying, his father was beaming, and Tina was incredibly proud of her brother. Oscar ran straight into their arms.

Many of the families congratulated Oscar at the few events he had to turn up to. Almost all of them watched racing, watched as he climbed his way to the top. Fernando of the Alonso family told him that he would be a world champion in no time. And he would be. He really would be.

Oscar knew who he was named after. He knew that Oscar Piastri, the man that had saved his mother, the man he was named after, had wanted to race. He wanted to do what Oscar Sainz was now doing.

Oscar visited his grave site. Over the Australian Grand Prix weekend, Oscar and his parents went to visit his grave. There were always fresh flowers, Carlos made sure of that.

"Hey," Oscar said as he sat in front of the headstone. He'd asked his parents for privacy and they'd given it. "It's Oscar, Y/N and Carlos's kid." He'd visited the grave only twice before, when he and his father were in the country for racing purposes.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you more," he said as he pulled his orange McLaren hat from his head. "I made it to Formula One, by the way. I know that was your dream, too." Actually, Oscar had something written on his helmet, so small that most couldn't read it. It was his mothers idea to have 'For Uncle Osc' printed on the back of his helmet.

"I wish I could have met you," said Oscar as he placed his hat on top of the headstone. "I bet we would have raced together. I think that would have made my mum really happy."

Oscar stood up from the ground. He touched his fingers to the headstone and turned around, walking away from his Uncles headstone, back to his family.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @hiireadstuff @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i explain india but i'm drunk.

Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.

To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.

India, explained.

So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.

There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.

Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.

In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.

There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.

If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.

Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.

It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.

Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.

Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.

I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.

THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.

Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.

INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.

Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.

Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice

The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry

Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite

Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.

If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.

All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.

Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.

Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.

Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.

I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.

[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]

Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.

[caramelcleopatraa]

i. SUIT & TIE

word count: 1,700~

x: this fic idea won in the polls :) this series was inspired by kayjayxchar on wattpad ( she's A1 ) and then while writing, I decided to make this into sort of a series. no smut in this part ( I know I know, its such a tragedy! ) but don't underestimate what I got in the works :p not proofread... yet

content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, fluff, suggestive themes ( gets a lil steamy ;) )

 Your fingers type away at your computer, responding to emails from your clients. Your employees are setting up the shop, preparing for another busy day. You were one of the top rated designers in the state of Florida. You’ve been able to travel around the country teaching classes, working your magic for top notch celebrities, and make public appearances. To cut it short, you were living your best life, truly. You got to do what you were passionate about and go against the standard of your families’ traditions and values. You were proud of yourself that you are successful as you are. The chime of your door interrupts your thoughts as a group of people walk into your shop before opening time.

“Wassup biiiiiittch!” One of your closest friends, Trinity, was the first to make herself known. She throws herself on you, and you welcome her sudden embrace. She often visited you at your shop to check on you in her free time, and you always welcomed her company, especially on busy days. Today however, she was coming to you as a client. Because she was your friend and today was one of your busiest days, you told her to come an hour and a half early before you opened. That gave you plenty of time to fit your friends, clean up, and open on time. You scan the group that entered through the door with her. You saw Trinity, her husband Jimmy, his twin Jey and his wife Talia. Your eyes shifted to the larger frame that stood behind them, that was accompanied by a shorter, voluptuous woman. It was someone you knew too well. Anyone that lived in Florida had to know his name. Roman Reigns. standing next to him, was what looked like a model, which you would later know to be De’arra. The group of six admired your shop, casually walking around and scouting different designs that were displayed on the walls. 

Men’s Side

Women’s Side 

“No matter how many times I come in here, I'm always shocked. Is this new?” Jey says, pointing to the gray suits on your model displays. “Yeah, new in stock. Ya like it?” You sing shakily as Trinity rocked you to death. “Can I take this off ya hands?” “You can after i fit you” You chuckled at his eagerness.

“Annyways..” Talia says, pushing her way through Jimmy and Jey. “This is Roman. I told him that I know a really good designer that can whip up an amazing suit. So he’s here to get fitted as well as the rest of us.” Talia explains to you, while you finish typing up your last email. You look up to find him staring at you. You notice his chocolate brown eyes and brown skin that complimented each other. You try your best to not let that distract you as you reach your hand towards him. You didn’t think he would’ve actually shaken your hand due to how cold people described him to be. You contentedly grinned when his warm hand engulfed yours. “Nice to meet you, beautiful” “Nice to meet you too, handsome.” ‘oh my god he’s so damn fine. how am i supposed to stay professional around this man!??’

Your poker face stayed true as you continued to engage with your client. De’arra, stayed close to him, latched on at the arm. She pulled on his arm to get his attention, but he simply dismissed her by saying “Wait over there for me sweets”, and she happily obliged. 

“So how does this whole thing work?” He says, tugging at his black tee. “You’ve never gotten fitted here before and my place runs a little differently than most. We have our scheduled appointments set up so that we can fit our clients, try on potential outfits for you, and send you home with them hours later. There’s a huge inventory that I have attached to this store so as soon as I get done recording your requests, we can get your order started as soon as possible. Any questions?” Roman smiles smugly and looks at Talia “She’s good.” Talia retaliates with “I told you so.” You blushed at their nice comments. To you, it didn’t seem like much. You were simply explaining how your company works so that your client has a basic rundown of how things work. Trinity nudged your shoulder as soon as she noticed your flustered state. You covered your face and did a quick spin, a little habit that formed when you get flustered. The group laughed at your small action. You snapped back into business mode and called your assistant to help you distribute the party of five.

“Aahkilah, can you help me with this party of five?”

 “Coming!” She galloped out to the main area with a work outfit that was damn near cutting dress code, but you didn’t have time to deal with that shit right now. “You can take the couples since they have been fitted before. Be flexible enough to make changes on the spot if our presets don’t fit like they’re supposed to. I’ll take Roman and do the whole process since he’ll be new information in the system.” She was fairly new, and you didn’t trust her just yet with doing an entire fitting appointment on a new client. Plus, you could tell everything that you were saying was going over her head as she basically eye-fucked your client. “But that’s not fairrrruuh! why can’t I take him?” she says, almost mimicking a complaining child. Your eyes close slowly as you sigh and respond “Because you’re not ready to give a full fitting appointment yet.” 

You wanted to put a nail in this conversation so you could do your job. But, this woman had a damn mission. “You just wanna get him in your private fitting room and fuck him!! You’re not slic-" “ He came here for a fitting! A fitting done by me girl! It was his request. Please don’t make me have to deal with a child right now.” You were starting to get loud, so you didn’t go back and forth with her like you usually would to whip that bitch into shape. The twins were barely succeeding at hiding their laughter as well as Talia. Roman and Trinity wore smirks on their faces as you reprimanded your employee. She finally buckled down and made sure that the room was ready for the couples. You called in another employee, Gio, to help you with your workload online while you fit your client.

“Oh my god who is that-“ You hit her and stop her sentence and she looks at you like you're crazy. “What!? He’s fine as fuck!” You mentally facepalm as she tries to whisper to you, that ends up more like a whisper scream. “Mhm” You said, as you went behind your desk and pulled up some work for her to do. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t think he’s fine! isn’t he right up your alley? Tall? muscular? deep voice? beard? The whole nine?” You took pride in the fact that you took time to know your employees on a personal level. You did not think she was going to air out all of the information you told her however. You gave Gio a look that screamed ‘shut the FUCK up’ and she responded to your look by playfully rolling her eyes. You turn the computer towards her. “You’re here to get a bag, not play matchmaker” She groans in response and says “Whatever.” to your dismissive comment. ‘she did not have to embarrass me like that. OMG WHAAT THE FU-‘

“The whole nine huh?” You hear a deep voice mirror your employee’s statement. You turn around to face Roman, the corner of his lips still curled into that mind melting smirk. He motioned up and down his body, trying to fluster you. Your eyes drift over his muscular body. “Little ole me?” ‘LITTLE?’ 

“Little?” Your face contorted into a confused expression, that earns a laugh out of the tall samoan. He starts to walk towards you, decreasing the amount of space between you too. Your momma ain’t raise no bitch so you stood your ground… well, you tried. You could clearly distinguish the height difference between you and him, and your head raised as your eyes met his. Your hand rested on your hip and your head tilted, slightly sizing him up. “Sir, I will let you know that this is a professional business.” You said, ending off your sentence with a smirk. Just as you expected, he challenged you back, “Well I'm not invading your personal space, am I?” He said, as the corner of his lips tugged to form another smirk. Anyone in the room would have felt the tension and both of you were desperately waiting on someone to make a move. “Nah, i just don't want a wannabe gangsta playboy fucking up my reputation.” His eyes fluttered closed as he laughed at your statement. You had amused him and peaked his interest. He closed the gap between you two. His breath ghosted over your lips as he said, “So you must know i’m good at fucking something else up, huh?” His eyes glazed over your soft lips, coated with lip gloss. You took a moment to gather yourself before prompting another response. ”Well I wouldn't know cause it’s just rumors.” You shrugged your shoulders looking off to the side. 

“You know how those be.”

“Mhm” He licked his lips. From how close you guys were, you were surprised that his tongue didn't make contact with your bottom lip. “What they been saying about me ma?”

“That apparently you’re good in bed” You raised your pointer and middle fingers bent to imitate quotation marks.

“Mhm, keep going”

“Boy ion know, I really don't be concerned with you.” Your hand returned to your hip. Your attitude started to shine through. 

“Maybe it’s because I haven't taken care of you yet sweetheart” He leans down to whisper the sentence in your ear. You feel his lips lightly touch your ear and your entire body froze. 

You huffed, and said “You say that like you're so sure of yourself.” You challenged his boldness, but nothing could prepare you for what he said to you next.

“Maybe when we hit this fitting room, I can show you how sure I am”

deeeefinitely meant to post this last week but finals and grades got me one more time. I'm on break for the rest of the month so I can try my hand at being consistent. let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and how you guys like part 1!

~ your hippie author

🏷️ tags :) @harmshake

[chut-je-dors]

Now I'm curious cause of your tag. What did Swedish media say about the eurovision thing?

Oof yeah, here's a post detailing it ... here another... Basically they've absolutely flipped over the fact that Finnish public didn't give Loreen points at all (which I find absolutely hilarious) and suddenly started wielding such rhetoric as "the former eastern part of our kingdom" referring to Finland, which is???? like??? do I even need to say how Not Okay that is?

It might seem to some that the Finnish people are reacting to Sweden's (unfair) win and them being sore winners (which, points to them, I didn't know was possible!) with too much drama, but it's all tied to our history together. Finland has traditionally seen itself, and has been seen by other countries (Sweden included) as the sort of "little brother" to the more advanced, better-faring, glorious Sweden. While Sweden to my knowledge doesn't much care about what Finland gets up to (perhaps overlooking/ignoring us and our merits), Finland is always comparing itself to Sweden and trying to live up to it. It's a very common rhetoric and sort of, the atmosphere over here. We know more about Sweden than Sweden knows about us; we're constantly conscious that Sweden exists. Sweden gets talked about in international news; Finland, if mentioned, is often tied to - you guessed it - being Sweden's neighboring country.

We used to be part of Sweden for 600 years. During that time, Swedish was implemented as the language of the culture and the "civilised" whereas the finns living in the eAstErn pArT oF tHe kiNgDoM were seen as "wild" and "uncivilised" and just, generally a lesser people to the Swedish speaking population. We haven't been under Sweden's rule for some 200 years and STILL we can't seem to shake their influence on us. Swedish is still a mandatory language to learn at school (and I have many opinions on that, but that'd be another post). Finnish as a language has been disregarded for its whole existence. Our leading national thinkers and poets in the 19th century, who were the first ones to really push for the Finnish identity instead of us seeing ourselves as part of Sweden or Russia, wrote in Swedish. The first novel in Finnish was published in 1870.

So this is monumental to us, to have the whole word watching Finland and not Sweden. Finland has a lot of merits, especially considering how small a people we are (just 5,5mil). To have a song in our language, in Finnish be this popular, is something we couldn't have imagined. We as a people are humble to the extreme, so much that we might easily scorn anyone who is too successful (not a good thing!), and this is the first time in my life that I'm seeing the whole country rally behind someone like this. When we say "Our Jere" we mean it with our whole hearts. We're so so proud of him, everyone is, and for once Finnish people seem to think in unison that someone deserves all the praise and the success.

SO, to have Sweden in this UNIQUE moment of Finland raising its head and being "we're so amazing", with the rest of Europe going "yes you're so amazing!!", spew rhetoric like this, is just, unbelievable to me. Like I can't just believe that in the 21st century there are people in Sweden who hold up 200 year old thought patterns of our country. It's been shocking 'cos though there's always been rivalry, it's felt more... tongue in cheek. We "love to hate" Sweden over here. It's been "I hate Sweden (affectionate)". But now we find this unbelievably condescending and belittling attitude towards us raising its head, and we wonder, we thought we two were okay?? But have they always held these beliefs???

So there's a sense of betrayal in the air as well. And just, full on disbelief. And maybe we're starting to see that it has been like this all along, but we've decided to turn a blind eye to it? True colours shining through? Perhaps not... but yeah.

Sweden not looking good here!

(here's one more post that says the same that i did but was better at making it SHORT oops)