#so i cannot imagine how badly and relentlessly he was getting bullied

[sleepyhoon]

seunghan officially leaving riize makes my heart hurt and i didn’t even know them like that :( i just cannot fathom that this is all happening because he had a normal dating life prior to becoming an idol

[baseballbitch116]

The Wedding

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Request: 👋 hey I hope you are doing well. I've kind of wanted to write this imagine for a while but I SUCK at writing and I love your writing so I thought maybe I'd ask you 😊 so I've had this song stuck in my head for like ever but its Marry Me by Thomas Rhett and basically its where the reader and George (and-or) Fred Weasley were friends with her and one of them has a crush on her but no one makes a move and then they eventually get a wedding invite like after the war or after Hogwarts. ?? If this is too confusing I totally get you not wanting to write it 😊 again hope you are doing okay!!

Prompt: George Weasley x reader slow burn

Setting: Deathly Hallows pt 1

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: None

Masterlist

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A/N: Hi darling!! I’m doing okay! You definitely do NOT suck and I would’ve loved to read your own take on your prompt! & tysm for reading my work hun :) I was so excited when you messaged me with this idea, I absolutely love it! It ended up getting pretty long cuz I get carried away, I hope you like it! 

You’ve had a crush on him for years now. He used to just be your annoying best friend as children. The boy that would protect you from bullies then tease you himself. The one that would mess up your hair or relentlessly play pranks on you. He and his brothers were like second family to you growing up, and you’d always felt like a part of his family.

Things changed when you started your first year at Hogwarts. The twins were already in their second year, and that was when you realized that you had formed a crush on George. You were freaked out by it at first - he was one of your closest friends! But as time went on and you saw him interacting with other girls, you found yourself growing apart from him - the fear of rejection pushing you away from him.

Following that year, you grew much closer to Ginny and Ron, and spending less time with the twins. They never confronted you about you basically avoiding them and you felt like they didn’t even notice that you had stopped coming around them.

Little did you know, Fred and George noticed. They were pretty upset and offended when you began avoided them, seemingly out of nowhere, and were too prideful to ask you why. George figured it was because you were meeting a bunch of new people(and boys) and didn’t need them anymore - while Fred thought something else had to have been going on.

Fast forward to the Yule Ball, you had pushed your feelings for George aside and gotten yourself a date to the ball. You stopped avoiding the boys after your first year but you also stopped hanging out with them unless you were with other people. Of course there was that part of you in the back of your mind wishing that George was your date. That you could dance in his arms, that he would compliment you, but instead, you went to the ball with Cedric.

“This is so dumb, I don’t wanna be here.” Fred whined, tugging at his bow tie once again. George rolled his eyes at his twin and scanned the room absentmindedly, bored of this dance already. Harry and Ron approached the two of them, Ron acting just like Fred, tugging at his uncomfortable dress robe awkwardly. Ron suddenly froze in place and George spotted Hermione walking down the stairs. He smirked and opened his mouth to make fun of his younger brother - until he saw you following behind Hermione. It was like the air was stolen straight from his lungs - whatever he was about to say was long forgotten as he stared at you walking in their direction.

Your soft pink dress lightly trailed behind you as you elegantly descended from the stairs, a shy smile on your lips as you made your way toward your friends. George felt like his heart had stopped in that very moment, and Fred had to nudge him to close his mouth before you got to the bottom of the stairs. His mouth was dry and he couldn’t bring himself to look away. The sight of you walking toward him in that dress was something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. 

George admitted his feelings for you to himself right in that moment. You were the most beautiful girl in the room by a long-shot. He always denied that he felt something for you - mostly because he had never had any desire to be in a relationship or to ruin your friendship - but in that moment he knew that he had to have you.

You held your dress up slightly so that you didn’t trip on it as you approached your friends, and Fred chuckled. “You better be careful in that get up, Y/N, with your clumsiness.” He teased. You rolled your eyes playfully at him and laughed nervously. “I am so not looking forward to dancing in front of all these people.” You mumble. Fred gives his brother another nudge so that he will stop staring at you and say something.

“I could sneak you away?” He offers, half joking, half not. He wanted to whisk you away and steal you from your date. How is it fair that Cedric will get to dance with you and not him?

“Unfortunately I can’t.” You respond to George. He looked so handsome in his suit and you wished that he was your date for the night. “Speaking of-” You say, forcing a big smile as Cedric approaches and stands beside the twins, giving you a grin.

“Y/N, you look beautiful.” He compliments. You can’t help but blush at the nice compliment. You don’t notice the grimance or anger on George’s face before he masks it with another nudge from Fred. He towers over Cedric and looks displeased to be near him, but you cannot question it before your date offers you his hand when the music begins playing - signalling time for him to escort you for the first dance. You shoot a short, nervous smile to your friends before allowing Cedric to escort you away.

The rest of the night was miserable for George, as he longed to be the one dancing with you. "You’re wicked jealous, mate.” Fred taunted him as he glared at Cedric by your side. “I always knew you had a thing for her.”

Fast forward to present day, George had come no closer to making you his. He was so scared that he would mess things up and he was never scared of anything, so instead he just stumbled his way through conversations with you and awkwardly attempted to do something to get out of the friendzone. You had noticed a change in his behavior but never recognized it to be because of feelings for you.

And here you guys were, at yet another dance. Well, a wedding to be exact. Bill and Fleur’s wedding. You did not bring a date, as you had no interest in anyone other than George. He did not bring a date either. He so badly wanted to ask you to be his, but when he heard that you planned to attend the wedding alone, he decided not to and hoped to figure things out on the day itself.

When he saw you walk into the tent in your gown, his breath was stolen from his lungs the same way as it had been on the night of the Yule Ball so long ago. You looked around nervously as you tried to spot a familiar face, and his heart dropped when he saw you smile when you made eye contact with him. Did he do that?

You walked over to him and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched you approach. “Wow, Y/N-” He starts, clearing his throat to try to shake off his nerves. “You look...”

“Nervous?” You ask, chuckling awkwardly.

“No, you look amazing.” He says with an awkward chuckle.

You blush furiously and smile.

“Wow, a compliment from George? It’s going to snow!” You tease, giving his arm a little nudge playfully. He returns the chuckle and cups your hand on his bicep before you can remove it. Tonight was the night - he could feel it. It was a romantic, happy occasion and he suddenly had the courage to make a move.

You look at his hand on yours, then look up at him. Something was changing, you could feel it. Your heart pounded in your chest behind your blue gown and he grasped your hand and brought it up to his mouth, placing a light kiss on the top of it. “M’lady.” He smirks playfully.

You roll your eyes and laugh to mask the butterflies that were soaring through your stomach. What had gotten into him?

“Would you like to dance?” He asks. You are stunned but force yourself to nod when your words fail you. He does not let go of your hand and escorts you over to the dancefloor where everyone has begun slow dancing. He takes the lead and hesitantly places a hand on your waist, keeping a safe distance between your two bodies. You both feel very tense and awkward, but you want this so bad.

You inhale deeply and raise your hand up to his shoulder lightly, looking up into his eyes shyly. Your hand is small in comparison to his and his large frame leaning over yours makes you feel safe in the weirdest way. You allow yourself to get lost in moment as you sway back and forth to the song around the bride and groom. George decides to allow himself to make this moment as perfect as possible, so he brings you slightly closer by your waist until you are nearly chest to chest. He is not smiling but he is so deep in the moment and you can see the emotions written on his face.

He can’t help but glance at your lips for a moment. Your heart stops as you continue to dance, staring into his eyes. There’s no way that George has feelings for you...? Is there? He leans down and brings his mouth to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Are you having a good time?” He mutters into your ear.

“I am.” You respond quietly. He shifts your hand slightly in his own so that he can interlace his fingers with yours. “I’m so happy for them.” You continue, closing your eyes momentarily and getting lost in the moment.

“Me too. They deserve it.” He responds. His hand on your waist holds you a little firmer and he presses his body into yours, keeping his head beside yours. “You look beautiful tonight.” He compliments you. You are glad that he can’t see the giant grin spread across your lips.

“Thank you, George.” You respond. “You look great in a tux.” You return the compliment.

He pulls back just enough to see your face, smirking at you playfully. “Why thank you.” He grins. You giggle and smile up at him.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer.” You note. He takes that opportunity to spin you outward, pulling you back into his arms flesh against his chest, looking down into your eyes.

“Neither did I.” He grins, and you laugh again. Suddenly though, the moment becomes intense as you realize how close in proximity you are. You can feel his breath on your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. Your breath hitches and your brain goes silent, unable to process anything other than the man in your arms. He can tell that you are feeling this just as much as he is and he finally has the confidence to do what he’s been dying to ever since the Yule Ball.

George starts to lean in closer, just ever so slightly. You can practically taste the mint on his breath as he is just a few millimeters away from your lips. And just when he was about to, the song ends and the crowd begins clapping. He closes his eyes in exasperation before lifting his head up from your forehead and taking a step back. You let the breath you didn’t realize you were holding out and acknowledge your surroundings, noticing Bill and Fleur heading over to the cake. You clap with the crowd but your eyes fall back to George, who was already watching you.

What just happened?

---

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[hillarykylie]

I’m just so incredibly frustrated and upset with everyone in my life and I’m so glad Tumblr is a safe platform where I can genuinely be expressive of my mental health and how I’ve been feeling, because it’s been a while.

I struggle with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and within the Disorder, there are 4 sub-categories - one of which I identify as ‘Quiet’ BPD which is a little dissimilar to the general conception of what BPD is.

I’ve also been diagnosed with Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder since the age of 12 and have been on medication for about 7 months.

I struggle on and off with Atypical Anorexia and have recently been diagnosed with Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

To begin with, life has been one huge emotionally tumultuous ride for me. The trauma that my childhood has cursed me with has done nothing but collateral damage in my life now.

Growing up, I was the only child who spent the bulk of my time being alone. I was socially awkward and failed to assimilate with my peers in school and was bullied for being unable to fit in.

I was sent away at the age of 9 all the way up till 12 to the hands of an abuser - whom I’ve forgiven as of today. I hate to blame this on my parents because I know they truly meant well at that point of time and wanted the best for me, but the emotional and mental scars this whole torment has left on me has been carthatic and unimaginable.

It’s eroded my self-worth and perception of myself over the last few years, and the fact that I never truly talked about this openly to anyone has led to a lot of pent-up anger and resentment and unresolved trauma to accumulate within me.

I love my mom, I know she loves me to death and till this day she cries over her decision of sending me away. The main reason she’d sent me away was because both my parents were busy building their business empires when I was younger and was unable to commit to me. growing up in a strict Asian household who pride themselves on elitism and academics, she believed that I’d flourish academically and be more well-behaved under the guardianship of someone who supposedly had the resources to nurture me when my mom couldn’t.

Not only was I a victim of physical abuse, being hit, slapped and pinched over the trivialest of reasons - all pertaining to academics by the way - such as not being able to grasp a maths formula / doing badly in a test and witnessing my childhood friend at the time getting beaten and slapped and caned and yelled at under the same roof as me on a daily basis and bearing the brunt of emotional abuse (getting told that I was never good enough, I was never smart enough, that I’ll never be academically successful, that I was useless) and being consistently compared to other children slowly tore away my self-esteem and happiness.

My guardian had a rigid routine that we had to adhere to, and most of it revolved around relentless studying and tutoring by her. There were hardly any breaks and not performing up to par academically would risk facing disciplinary action by her. Neither her child (my friend) Nor me were rebellious. We were obedient, compliant and hard-working. We had to lock ourselves up in the room and face long, tedious hours of studying and cramming, as young as at 9 and 10 years old, and had to face the constant prospect of my abuser exploding out of the blue.

I remember feeling an overwhelming apprehension, anxiety, fear, inadequacy as a child and I grew up feeling helpless and restricted in this mental and physical chokehold. I would hide in the toilets for a little longer and outside the house as I was deathly afraid to thrust myself back into a war-zone. It was a daily cycle of praying that I’d make it through the day without crumbling. Some days were bearable, other days were not. I had to witness how my friend got beaten, slapped and pinched by my abuser over yet again, the silliest of reasons and the constant chaos and mayhem in the house made me incredibly fearful. I was under constant pressure to be on my best performance, but I was still victim to being hit, pinched and yelled at - all because I didn’t understand a math formula or an algebraic equation. I’d subsequently be called “stupid” and “dumb” and every other degrading labels you could think of, that I slowly started to believe that the labels defined who I was. 3 years of such abuse being drilled relentlessly in you, a 9 year old child, just imagine.

As a child, you internalise everything that you’ve been told, and this unfortunately sticks with you throughout adolescence and adulthood.

At that point of time, I was so incredibly young that I had no idea that the physical and emotional abuse I endured wasn’t ‘NORMAL’, until years later when I finally got into therapy. I had no clue that this was almost illegal and unlawful.

I couldn’t escape from the situation then and I remember telling my parents about what I had to go through. I didn’t tell them in precise detail about the horrific abuse that I endured, as I couldn’t muster enough courage to tell them everything. I yearned desperately for my parents to salvage me from such a precarious and emotionally jeopardising situation, for them to save me and hug me and tell me everything that I’d put up with so far was awful and undeserving, but for some reason, I ended up being invalidated and accused of lying by my very own parents.

Not only was I falsely accused of fabricating about being hit, my dad thought I was conjuring up these “lies” because I was lazy and that didn’t want to do well in school. He then proceeded to discipline me by forcing me to kneel down and caned me, despite my desperate attempts to convince both my parents that I wasn’t lying and that I needed help. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, and I felt like I was being punished for something I hadn’t done. I continued to address the issue several times throughout the 3 years, only to be trivialised and disregarded again and again. Instead of raising concerns and being empathetic, my dad proceeded to admonish me for not fairing exceptionally in school, and begun comparing me to other children, telling me that I should be more “like” them and to quit being lazy and a compulsive “liar”, and to stop making up excuses to be away from my abuser.

I felt stifled, disappointed and let down. I was broken when my mom continued not doing anything and enabled my abuser to continue abusing me. For 3 years, I was stuck in this inescapable loop of emotional, mental and physical torment and I was made to feel as though everything was my fault, and that I deserved to be treated this poorly.

Not to mention - the Singapore education system is one of the harshest and strictest systems in the World. There’s colossal emphasis placed on academics, even at a young age, and failing to produce adequate academic results would result in ostracisation and physical discipline from our parents.

That, compounded by the pressures of school, a chaotic upbringing and environment, gradually affected me in the worst ways possible.

I remember shedding tears and crying hysterically when I was younger, whilst I was being hit, seeing my friend being beaten and caned right in front of my eyes was as equally disturbing, gut-wrenching and frightening. It’s as though we never knew when she would erupt, things were so unpredictable that I was walking on eggshells throughout the 3 years. I never knew when a beating would herald, or when the torrent of emotional abuse would strike me.

I would pray and beg for my mom to fetch me and save me from the chaos, and felt betrayed and abandoned each time she chose not to do so. I felt unprotected, unsafe and misunderstood. I begun to believe that I was a liar, after my parents’ countless dismissals of what I was going through. I felt like a mistake, a burden, and didn’t understand why I was so unfairly subjected to being forsaken, abandoned and dismissed and abused.

I didn’t know if it was appropriate to cry or be emotionally afflicted about this. For years, I’d genuinely regarded physical discipline (hitting, slapping, on pinching) on children as something that was allegedly intrinsic and normal to society, as well as hurling hurtful, injurious insults, only to realise years later that none of it should be condoned and how I was in fact - a victim of abuse.

I started cultivating self destructive behaviours at the age of 11 and 12, and had to be sent to the Psychologists. When I begun self-harming as an outlet to express my innate anger and frustration, I received even more abuse. The only person who truly cared about me and was concerned for my well-being was one of my teachers, whom I’ll never forget till this day and who has changed my life dramatically ever since. I didn’t intend for my scars to be discovered by anyone around me, and was destroyed when my parents accused me of being “naive”, “impressionable” and trying to follow a fashion trend by cutting. I’d thought that with self-harming, they’d realise just how much pain I was in and rescue me, but unfortunately this wasn’t the case back then. What’s worse, my abuser noticed that I’d been self-harming and started yelling at me and being exasperated and unnecessarily incensed. I was confused by how people around me were acting. Nothing I do seemed to work.

They say the experiences in your childhood paves the way for how you view yourself later in life, and I cannot agree more. This whole ordeal has truly shaken me to the core, and has definitely played an integral part to all my mental issues now. 3 years of my precious childhood was robbed away from me and instead of receiving the love and care that I deserved, at my most emotionally vulnerable, I was cruelly invalidated, shunned away, dismissed and disregarded like a drop of a hat. 3 years of being told I was never good enough, never smart enough, that I’ll never make it, 3 years of witnessing instability, Disorder and mayhem in the household, an emotionally unstable and unpredictable Guardian, 3 years of being physically tortured by someone who wasn’t my biological parent.

Not only has my childhood made me feel utterly worthless and unloveable, this negative belief system has festered in me and till this day, I still harbour and carry such destructive thoughts about myself, which’s certainly done irrefutable damage on my adolescent years, such as leading me to seek out validation and “love” through toxic, malignant relationships due to my abnormally low self-esteem and not feeling loved as a child.

Fast forward - I didn’t know what to feel when my parents finally decided to believe me and was infuriated with my abuser YEARS later and when my mom came crying and apologising to me when she found out all along I’d been speaking the truth as a child.

I still don’t know how to react to this day. I’m confused, hurt and frazzled. I’ve chosen to forgive my abuser and my parents, especially my mom, but what I still don’t understand, and will never understand, is why I had to go through such torment as a child, when I should be loved, nurtured and cared for in the right way.

I spent most of my childhood feeling left-out and alone, fearful and distrustful of people and apprehensive whenever I’m asked to open up.

What hurts me even more is that despite everything I’ve gone through and endured during my nascent childhood and adolescent years (not exclusive to this incident of abuse), there are still people around me who claim to “love” me yet emotionally invalidate me in the most calluous ways possible.

“But you’re rich, your family’s wealthy. You have a nice house, you go to a prestigious University, what the hell do you even have to be traumatised about?”

Not only do they think I’m undeserving of love and support, they assume that growing up for me was peppered with endless merriment, laughter and joy, just because I hail from an admittedly “well-to-do” family, I must be handed with everything in a silver spoon in life and that I do not know jackshit about “real” struggles and that I must be a “spoilt brat”, when I’m nothing but the direct opposite. And it doesn’t help that I’m a high functioning person who is still performing adequately in all aspects of my life despite my barrage of unresolved trauma and mental illnesses - people who meet me for the first time have absolutely no idea about my history or past.

Really? You think years of childhood neglect, emotional, physical, mental abuse, taunting and ostracisation, growing up in an emotionally threatening environment, witnessing violence, chaos, volatility, losing a loved one can be cured with money?

Don’t get me wrong - I’m empathetic towards those who live in poverty and I make an effort to help people in need. I’m grateful to be financially blessed, but my parents being wealthy has absolutely no correlation to my well-being at all. My progress often gets discredited just because of my background, which is absolutely senseless and absurd.

Got A*AA for A Levels and apparently that wasn’t because of my hardwork, it was because I’m “rich”? You’ve got to be kidding me?

One thing stands clear and it is that I’m not a mooch or a leech who takes for granted my privileges and I certainly work my way up to the TOP myself, with my zealous work ethic and drive.

I feel misunderstood and maligned most of the time. I can’t even go about my day, expressing some form of discomfort or my sincere feelings without being undermined and treated as a joke. And I’m hardly ever the person who confides into someone or seeks help unless need be just because I’m so avoidant, paranoid and distrustful of people in general.

There are a lot more formidable things that I’ve gone through in my life which’s shaped me into who I am today, all of which has made the pain even more real, tangible and palpable and contributed to so much of my BPD and depression, which I’ll delve into at some point later.