#which is understandable but god i swear its a poison to careers

[mpilwenhle8410]

People can break your spirit.

It is understandable why most people would choose to be alone. There is so much individual pain going around. Like a virus, spreading from mind to heart, rapidly turning innocence, to victim, to victimizer. A bite from a hurt zombie, leaves the victim in such pain, regret, distrust, & fear, that they themselves start spreading that pain. Unconsciously so.

So, love has become a war zone where individuals have to help each other heal. But how easy is this feat? So many individuals deem themselves mentally "healthy". But how can this be? If the majority of individuals on this planet are sane, then where oh where, is the anxiety, depression and the absolute misery coming from?

We are becoming more and more detached as humans, from each other. The constructs of the Anglo-British (European) civilization have somehow achieved this and the rift continues to widen with every single day. Money? Careers? Poverty? The fear of failure! Successes that mean nothing without the very humans, that humans, are in competition with? You would swear they were not humans. As though each individual is a totally different species from a completely different universe to the next. This is exactly what has come to make us, more and more, allergic to each other. Because each of us think we are special and better than the other. So, the energy carried is poisonous and other humans find it hard to be around. They tolerate it, if they have something to gain (another poison). But who's doesn't carry the poisonous energy? I feel the current world has poisoned all of our minds, of which poisons our energy. To submit to the world the devil energy has created, but still use God, Jesus, Mohammed etc, as a delusionary crutch to make themselves feel better. But are they aware? Are they conscious of this psychological pandemic?

Years of competing with each other, has made it difficult for us to listen to each other, trust each other and ultimately live in peace with each other. How can there be peace in a world of liars, thieves, oath breakers, scammers etc? A corrupt nation can never be at peace with itself. Its obsession with soulless material will destroy its soul while the soulless materials take over. And they will coexist with so much unnecessary pain & suffering. It is humans that we humans live for, yet it is those very same humans that we claim to be at war with every single day.

Our relationships become the very essence of our day-to-day experiences. I have heard some in psychology say, one should leave their work at the door. But exactly how logical is that statement? Is this possible for the collective consciousness of humanity? I see relationships being shaped by positions, titles, and all the perks, or lack thereof, of the very "WORK" that psychology advises to be left at the door.

[ermuellert]

what are your honest opinions on julian draxler's career?

personally i thought he was genuinely going to be a big star because he was this young wonderkid at schalke who won the world cup as a 20 year old (he didn't do much though to be fair) but it never really turned out that way ... he's not done terribly per se, he is playing for psg, living that sweet life en france, and somehow still getting callups to the german national team but i am just kind of sad that he never reached the full potential that he had ... i thought he would be the captain of the "new" germany generation, one of the leaders, but now he barely gets to play ... i am kind of extra worked up about his case because he seems like a nice and sweet person as well ... anyways maybe i just have a bad track record of predicting career trajectories, all the youngsters i thought would succeed haven't (yet), at one point i believed that julian weigl and max meyer would also be world beaters and here we are ... i don't know what it is, probably a mix of injuries, bad luck, and maybe just not working hard enough ... long long sigh

anyways if you read all that you're an absolute superstar because i really went and wrote an essay oops ... i look forward to your live blogging tomorrow as it is always entertaining ... lots of love xxx

i hope u know that deep down.... like. Deep Down... i am always always always craving to talk about julian...... like trust me... i promise essays on monsieur draxler are always welcome here because i used to write that much about him and sometimes still think that much about him too...

objectively speaking, i think he is doing alright! pretty good by a lot of standards probably, for most of the reasons u listed. he’s getting paid obscene amounts (probably more than he deserves at this moment in time), has a seemingly great personal life, and as u said, still getting his national team callups. 

my personal thoughts, on the other hand, are... well....... not really of the same sentiment. i already know i’m gonna write up an even longer essay so let me just tuck the rest of this ramble under a cut for the sake of my followers lmao

honestly for me... thinking about julian is kind of depressing. if you feel worked up about him, just know that i relate. he seems very happy where he is in his life at the moment and so of course i’m happy for him too but compared to the potential it seemed he had... it’s just a bit sad. mostly because it isn’t as though he’s an excellent player hindered by injuries (e.g. reus) or anything really beyond his control - i think a lot of what’s so disappointing about his career trajectory is really just to do with him and him only.

yes, his failed transfer to juve back when he was at schalke wasn’t his fault but to move to wolfsburg? i know hindsight is 20/20 but i almost wish he’d just stayed at schalke. the drama he got into while he was at wolfsburg really did not do any good for his image, putting aside the fact that he was putting in average (even inconsistent) performances for the team. at schalke, maybe he could’ve had more time to develop within a team he grew up in and just use his time there to work and work hard. (there’s something i want to say about mentality here but i’ll bring that up later)

then, when his transfer to psg was announced, i felt like that was some beacon of hope although honestly, i think anything compared to wolfsburg could’ve looked that way to me at the time lmao keeping up with that club just for him (and partly andré schürrle) was fucking painful my god

at psg he was off to a decent start and things were starting to look up! wasn’t starting every single match but he was playing fairly well and made quick friends with his new teammates (u know who lol) etc. but then of course any sort of rhythm/momentum he gained was totally thrown off by mbappé’s and neymar’s arrivals which i think were both only around half a year after his transfer. 

and so basically since then, he’s been “competing” for a spot with ney, kylian, and di maría.

(ok reading that back i realize that whole recap of his career was not really necessary or at least. making it as lengthy as i did wasn’t but. i’m too lazy to go back and reword everything so bear with me lmao)

taking all that into account, i think yes, to some extent, he has some excuse for the stagnation of his career. he’s had his injuries and he’s been played out of position for large portions of time.

but i think what really frustrates me about him is that as a fan who’s loved him for years it’s really sad to see that what’s holding him back is not necessarily a lack of ability but just that he doesn’t have the sort of drive i wish he did. it’s been on display in his performances before - he can be lazy and invisible - but i think what’s worse is how that translates off the pitch. he’s just never really seemed to fight for a spot in the starting eleven. and if the rumors are true (as they do seem so) the parisian nightlife has not been doing him very good lmao

not only that though but i think he just doesn’t care as much about football as he does about ... image? money? i don’t know. i don’t know what the word i’m looking for is. i don’t think julian is a superficial sort of person and i’m not saying ambition is a bad thing at all, but when he couldn’t go from schalke to juventus (and that failed transfer was riding, presumably, a lot on his wonderboy status at schalke), he followed the money to wolfsburg. put in performances that understandably received criticism at wolfsburg, then very publicly made a whole thing out of wanting to leave and not being able to. then followed the money to psg where he just ... vibes on the bench. well, at least up until this season. but even then, if it weren’t for all the covid cases and red cards, i don’t know if he would be playing as much as he has. 

so tl;dr: i love julian a lot still and he’s still the same sweet dorky fuckboi-ish guy i’ve been a fan of since the start and i’m happy that he’s happy! the tragic irony is that what makes him happy - collecting checks while being a bench player - is also what depresses me quite a bit about him. he has his flashes of brilliance every once in a while where you can see that 17-year-old schalke wonderboy in him, so you know that hype from long ago wasn’t all a waste and that somewhere in there is a very talented, perhaps starworthy footballer. but he isn’t. not because he can’t but because he doesn’t really care to. and not in a dismissive sense i don’t think. i don’t think he thinks “ah who cares about being the best player in the world fuck that” but moreso in the sense of “ah i think i’m doing alright! that’s good enough for me.” and that sort of mentality is what places him (or at least, contributes to his position being) a tier below his peers who have proven themselves (e.g. kimmich, although that also brings up the whole “can that sort of fighter/die-on-the-pitch type mentality be taught or must it be inherent” kind of thing so let’s move on before i write an essay within this essay) at the end of the day i know not every footballer is in this sport simply for the sake of playing it, but from time to time thinking about him fills me with a lot of nostalgia and yes a tinge of disappointment because i can’t help but think of what could’ve been (i.e. what would’ve happened if he’d stayed at schalke? stayed there for good or stayed for a season or two more, developed even more hype, strengthened his abilities. had a successful transfer to a good, solid club and continued to hone his abilities, etc).

ok. now i’m done. i’m so sorry for putting u through all that and skimming this back i sound SO dramatic lmao but man i’ve been through like six-ish years of following his career so fuck it oh well

also if u wanna know how much i still care, know that after the “draxler to leeds united” rumors first dropped, i wrestled with my impulse control every single day for a week trying to stop myself from dming him on insta saying “i love you but get ur ass to leeds or i will kidnap u and get u there myself your football career is killing me but i love you and just want the best for u have a nice day xx”

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[eurasiian]

Prussia x Teenage!Reader (incipient)

Summary: Your mother and father split when you were a young girl and ever since that day you’ve been hoping your family could be returned to its former glory. Every chance you got you scared of any suitor for your mother. They were no match for you! Not until him...

“Cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew so please don’t stay in touch.”

Chapter one : Challenge accepted (Wednesday)

Warnings : Slightly suggestive themes (legal age), mild swearing, mentions of divorce

You were lying sideways on your bed, feet dangling off the edge whilst your head just managed to stay level on the mattress. It wouldn't be so comfortable if it was the other way around. Using your arms, you held them straight above your face, hands tightly clasped around the edges of your new IPhone. My dads honestly the best. There's no way my mum could have afforded this. You thought with a tiny smile. The thought not being spiteful, spoil nor selfish. Okay maybe a little bit spoilt...

A few years ago when you were around the age of 10, your parents had split up. It came to a shock to everyone. There were no signs to suggest anything was wrong, but as you grew older, you concluded that they probably pretended so it wouldn't upset you; If that was the case, they had failed. After all, it was heart breaking when two people you loved so much, failed to love each other back. It was on that day you realized that devastating truth. After that, they couldn't even be in the same room as each other. Yelling and screaming down each other's throat's. Honestly, to a child it was terrifying. But again, as you grew older, you realized that some things couldn't stay hidden forever.

Rewinding back to your momentary tiny smile - it wasn't because you were proud your father could make more money then your mother or anything of the sort. The truth is, you had lived with your mother after your father had moved to Turkey with his brother, your uncle. He told you after the divorce things didn't feel right; That he needed a new start. It wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to you. He always made an effort to send gifts and letters, letting you know he missed you greatly and that he would come and visit sometime soon. It filled a gaping hole in your heart just knowing he still cared enough to keep in contact. One day, when you were older, you were going to visit him.

Meanwhile, being with your mother was a blast. You had always enjoyed being with her. To name a few traits of hers. She was fun, carefree, loving, kind, enthusiastic, motivational and most importantly. Eccentric. You wouldn't mind admitting it to anyone you had the best mother in the world. Most things she said were random, and unfortunately for you she had a nasty habit or reminding you how she "brought you into this world".

Her name was Joyce Williams, and you were proudly named (Name) Williams.

Using a finger to click onto Facebook. You smiled seeing your best friend had messaged you. Clicking on his icon - which by the way was his short self standing in front of his older blond cousin, who angrily tried to shove him out the way whilst he grinned brightly - you giggled. His name was Peter, Peter Kirkland, dorky Peter. Neither of you were very cool, but you had each other and that's all that mattered.

Facebook messenger

[Peter Kirkland] created a group chat

[Peter Kirkland] added you to the group chat

[Peter Kirkland] added [Wendy Kirkland] to the group chat

[Peter Kirkland] added [Erland Oxenstierna]

[Peter Kirkland] named the group chat "The four horsemen”

Peter Kirkland : What's up guys!

[Erland Oxenstierna] changed [Peter Kirklands] name to [Pissy Peter]

[Ernald Oxenstierna] left the group

Sniggering childishly, your eyes gently rolled backwards. Your friends were a colorful bunch to say the least. Ernald Oxenstierna was a hot headed Swedish child, who adored social media, yet hated socializing. He claimed that he wasn't friends with any of you, but you knew that wasn't the case considering he'd always hang out with you all at school and whenever his birthday rolled around, he'd always ask you three to sleep round his. His older brother’s boyfriend made the best cookies... 

Peter, as you had already mentioned, was dorky as hell. He'd be the first to crack stupid jokes out of the blue, and had a huge fetish for power rangers that you would never completely understand. Peter was always the one to arrange meet ups outside of birthdays, and was incredibly friendly. 

Wendy was the most mature out of all four of you, she wasn't as much of a geek but she did join in when necessary. Besides, you found it made for a fun dynamic. Somehow, Peter and Wendy were both related. They had a huge family which was very well known throughout the town you lived in. You knew Peter’s older cousin Arthur had three older brothers that you had met once or twice, and then they had a half younger brother who you think was the older brother to Wendy? Yes, that was it. Right?

Pissy Peter : We'll that wasn't very nice...

Wendy Kirkland : What do you want Peter?

Pissy Peter : *Smiley face with hearts for eyes* Sleep over at mine on Friday?

You : Peter stop flirting with your step-cousin. And yes, sleep over sounds good. *Laughing face*

Pissy Peter : Nooo wrong Emoji!!! *Crying face*

Pissy Peter added Ernald Oxenstierna to the group chat "the four horsemen”

Ernald Oxenstierna : What. Do. You. Want?

Pissy Peter : Sleep over at mine on Friday?

Ernald Oxenstierna : If the others are then sure. But I'm not spending time alone with you. You’re annoying and I fear if I sleep round at yours then your older cousin will food poison me again.

Pissy Peter : Well (Name's) coming so I'll take that as a yes?

Ernald Oxenstierna : Fine.

Wendy Kirkland : I'll come to. It sounds like fun. *Paint brush emoji* For art class I have to do some portraits of some people, so I'll try to do some drawings of you guys if you don't mind?

Pissy Peter : Sure!

[Ernald Oxenstierna] changed [Wendy Kirklands] nickname to [Sketchers]

[Ernald Oxenstierna]

changed your nickname to [Tango ice blast]

[Tango ice blast] changed Ernald Oxenstiernas name to [Baby bell]

Baby Bell : Fair enough

Letting out a snigger you sat up on your bed and smiled. You really did love your friends, and with the weekend rolling around it only rose up your excitement. Deciding it might be a good idea to tell your mother about your sleep over at Peters on Friday, you rolled over until you were on the edge of your bed and jumped upwards. Landing 'gracefully' on your feet. Today was a Wednesday, and your school was having a teacher training day so you got the day off.

Your mother was a beautiful women who was independent and brave. After your father left she got a job as a nurse. Granted, the money she made was little hence she couldn't buy you the kind of stuff your father could. However it was enough to support both yourself and her financially and she was a very career driven women. You admired it. At the moment, you had on some green pajama shorts and a red hoodie that had Santa clause adorned with a bright smile on the front. It wasn't Christmas presently, but it was the comfiest hoodie you owned. On your feet your socks were a bright yellow. You looked like a clown if that clown was told he would need to look as ridiculous as he usually did but instead dressed in pajamas and stupid ass socks. At least my feet aren’t big, you chuckled as you made it to the last step. You then paused and glanced down. Well...

"(Name). Is that you?" Hearing your mothers voice you were drawn out of your trance. "Can you come here quickly? There's um, something - hehe. Someone I want you to meet~" Her voice sounded...extra girly. As if there was someone she wanted to sound somewhat sexy for? It made you cringe. Maybe it was her boss? And she was trying to suck up to him for a raise or something? That sounded plausible (if only). After all it was hard to be a single mother raising a child alone with the support of a migrating ex-husband.

"Uh yeh. Sure." Constantly your mother would scold you for saying "yeh" almost all the time. It was a bad habit, but it was better then the children at your school who would constantly say "man" or "dude".

Your stairs were attached to a hallway that went on straight. At the end of it was the living room, but halfway was a small arch way which led into your kitchen. Since your mother sounded pretty far away you deciphered she was in the living room. Considering the floor was made of wood, you ran part way before sliding inside said room. Doing a small stumble over the carpeted flooring you managed to save your footing last minuet and did a cool spin. You grinned at your awesomeness and peered curiously over to your mother. 

The longer you started at her, you noticed someone else sitting beside her. Legs open obnoxiously as his arms draped around her shoulders. A smirk twitched over onto his lips, one that seemed to be a mix of cockiness, ignorance and excitement? You however contrasted his emotions, as you were mixed with feelings of anger, fury and denial. No way was this man, sitting so casually with YOUR mother. They couldn't possibly be anything more then friends. Just friends.

"(Name). This is my uh...friend Gilbert." Ah thank god. See (Name). You just work yourself up over nothing. You told yourself, relived before the man spoke up. His eyes were a beady red, a sign of pure evil. And his skin complexion was just as pale as his white hair.

"Friends? I can say that we're a little more then that Joyce~" he teased.

"Gilbert that's my daughter please behave yourself." Your mother begged back in a tone that could almost be considered playful. After cooing over the stranger for another few seconds, she stood to her feet. "I'm going to go make us some juice. You two chat and get to know each other okay?" You and this so called Gilbert watched as your mother left. Your eyes on her back, his slightly lower. For a few seconds, you both stared at the door way before he turned his attention to you.

"So uh Frau, what year are you -"

"I won't allow her to date you." Taken back by your sudden snappy nature, he shut his mouth for a slight second before opening it again. His face reading pure mischief as he stood to his feet.

"Oh really?~" he laughed. It was no doubt the worst laugh you had ever heard. Who sounds like a mutated bird when they laugh anyways? "Because. I'm pretty sure we're close to what you kids would call dating. What's the word uh slinking?" He seemed genuinely confused, and with a monotone face you replied.

"Linking?"

"That's it!..." Silence. "Ha. I'm cool." Groaning for maybe a few seconds more then you should of, your neck flew backwards and you cried out.

"MooooOOOOMMMM!" Whilst slowly walking away from him and into the kitchen where you knew she'd be. Of course, hearing your whines made her sigh. Whenever she brought home someone she liked, you would either scare them away or convince her they weren't good enough to be with her. Soon she realized that she wanted someone to love her, and you too. Your father wasn't around anymore. You both needed a man around the house as much as you denied it. By the time you arrived at the arch way, she was turned to face it with her back leaning against the counter. Three cups behind her.

"No."

"WhhhhhHHYYYYY?" At your constant whining, she lightly sighed yet again and sent a tiring smile in your direction. She knew that you hoped Gilbert would see how much of a pain you were and then leave you and her alone. Unfortunately for you she knew two things. One, she had already warned him about you prior to this meeting. Two, Gilbert was almost as childlike as you.

"If you give him a chance. He's actually very nice (Name)." She told you, walking forward and using her finger to boop your noes. "Now. You wouldn't want to seem rude would you?" She hummed. Sending you a look which read "Bitch I raised you choose your words carefully" it made you smirk ever so slightly since she would never say anything like that to you. But the expression was rather priceless.

"I don't care if it's him in all honestly -"

"I pushed you out from my vagina -" she began loudly. Causing your eyes to widen and hands to clamp over your ears in an attempt to quieten her.

"Ew stop!" However, she became even louder at this point.

"And I tolerated you whilst you cried every single day and night! Suck it up!" From the other room, you could practically hear this spawn of Satan laughing so hard it sounded as though he was rolling around on the floor. Maybe if you were in his position you would do the same. But you weren't, you were in your position. Grinding your pearly whites you muttered out a "fine" and that "if you need me I'll be up in my fortress" sassily, you clicked your fingers in front of yourself and walked out back into the hallway. From the corner of your eye, you could see Gilbert leaning against the wall and sending you a shit eating grin whilst whispering.

"You're on kid."

His words had caused your shoulders to tense greatly. Your orbs narrowing into slits like a tigers would once it's eyes had locked onto its pray. He had the upper hand here, you both knew it. Though, you'd be sure to change that. You turned back to your mother, who left out your cup and some supplies to make juice if you wanted some but didn't bother actually making it in case you were in to foul of mood to have any of the drink. Instead, she kissed your forehead as she passed you. Walking over to Gilbert who pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Sie sind schön Joyce." The albino whispered to her, one arm wrapping around her waist as he other took his drink from her. Swooned by his words, your mothers cheeks flushed and she accidentally tipped her drink all over his black shirt and better yet, white jeans. Serves him right for wearing white jeans. A chuckle left your lips as you thought that, watching as he blushed deeply from embarrassment.

"What the hell! meine schöne Hose! Francis wird mich töten!" At this point and when first hearing his accent. You were certain he was Germany or from some kind of German decent. At his outburst, your mother couldn't help herself and burst into laughter. Grabbing a cloth and helping to whip down his pants. She must have forgotten you were there. A soft frown came across your face and you silently made your way upstairs.

It was obvious he was no good for her.

Marching to your room, you opened the door. When you started senior school you decided that you would add some personality to your door and your mother was happy to supply some crafts materials. Now, your door was a literal disco ball. You and your mother had covered it over with glue before dumping contents of glitter on the wooden surface and then hanging up a sign saying.

"Fluff, angst and a whole lot of fanfiction."

She always understood you and your sense of humor. Even if children at school didn't. You wouldn't say you were bullied, but you did get a particularly hard time with the other children. Grouchily, you stormed over to your bed to lay down after shutting the door and propping your desk chair in front of it. Grabbing your laptop you quickly turned it on, typing in your password and clicking on Facebook. Glancing to the side, you noticed your new phone and bit your lip feeling guilty you had left your knew possession in the room. It must have cost your father a fortune and you felt as though you were obliged to carry it everywhere. It was incredibly stupid, but for some reason you just ached to see your father so bad that carrying the phone felt like it was all you had of him. Shaking your head, you lent your hand on your cheek which seemed to give your neck all the support it needed to stay up. Clicking back on the group chat, you realized that for the time you had been gone the others had been idly chatting. You didn't feel left out. Okay maybe a bit. But it's just because Gilbert had already put you into a bad mood. However, your nickname Tango ice blast instantly made you chuckle. Whenever you and your friends went to the cinemas, you always brought that drink, it seemed to be an obsession of yours. Fortunately, your mood brightened even more when Wendy mentioned she wanted you to come back online soon, not enjoying being the only girl whilst the two boys bickered back and fourth.

Tango ice blast : Hey guys.

Sketchers : Thank goodness your back. These two were leaving so many notifications I thought my ears would explode.

Baby bell : If I could snort I would. You realize that you and Pissy Peter are doing the same to me?

[Pissy peter] changed their nickname to [Perfect Peter]

Perfect Peter : Ha!

[Baby bell] changed [Perfect Peters] nickname to [Idiot]

Idiot : Oh...that hardly seems fair.

You soon found keeping track of these nicknames were hard but it made Ernald happy so you didn't want to complain. Barley anything made him happy. In your head you reminded yourself who everybody was. Okay so now Peters “idiot" I'm "Tango Ice blast" Wendy is "Sketchers" and Ernalds "Baby Bell"...Is it bad I just realized why we're not popular? Sighing, you decided to just sit and read the conversation. Since you were on the chat they could all see you were reading the messages and Peters spidey senses were tingling.

Idiot : Is something wrong (Name)?

Baby Bell : Ha

Idiot : Why are you laughing?

Baby Bell : I read it as "Idiot! Is something wrong (Name)?" Anyways, go on (Name).

Sketchers : *Reassuring smiley face*

Sighing, you decided it was best not to tell them over message. It's not that you didn't trust them not to show other people or anything like that, but there was only so much you could vent your hatred for Gilbert over messenger.

Tango Ice blast : I'll tell you guys tomorrow. It's pretty late and schools tomorrow so yeh. Peace out! *Angel face*

Authors note: Okay so i wrote this a long while ago but I thought why not just publish it and see what happens! I might write a part two, probably, but we’ll see where it goes <3

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 15

He escorted me through the tinted glass doors into the predicted booming music filled bar room, people packed from wall to wall, over to a tall tabletop nestled in the corner. Very gentlemanly, he pulled out the empty chair to offer my seat.

“Alright, Liv Elliott, can I get you a drink? What’s your poison?”

“Thanks, uh, I’ll just have a beer, please.” I answered, quivering with slight nerves. He maneuvered his way through the crowd headed in the direction of the bartender, while I waited fretfully alone with my thoughts. He seemed to be nice enough, and clearly easy on the eyes, so much so that my agonizingly neglected sex life was taxing me towards the direction of just sleeping with the man tonight for the hopeful intent of an orgasm.  But, he wasn’t my Colton. My emotionally confused, tormented, asshole Colton.

Snap out of it, woman. The guy dumped you. Very cruelly so. MOVE ON.

Drinks in tow, Luke two-stepped and squeezed through the crowd, making his way back to me.

“A beer for the lady,” he served with a wink. But it wasn’t the same wink that so long ago made me weak. It wasn’t like.. don’t say it, you pathetic fool. “You look stunning in the neon lights, you know?”

Dear God, please be joking with that line, man. He let loose a smothered laugh. Sweet relief. He wasn’t serious.

“Thanks, I think?” I accepted the cheesy, sarcastic compliment. “Tia mentioned you were a personal trainer. That must keep you pretty busy.”

“I do my fair share of push-ups, I guess, yeah. But I enjoy it, honestly. Especially when my clients see the results their looking for. It’ all worth it then, ya’ know?” Okay Luke, so you’re kind, and not a total airheaded muscle bag. Noted.

“Yeah, I’m sure the downtown housewives have a fit over you, huh?” I winked. “Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I have several house dads on my clientele list as well, thank you.” He chimed matter of factly. “But, enough of me for now. I need to hear all about the glamourous, successful, posh life of the rising journalist, Liv Elliott.”

Wow. What load of shit had Tia been feeding this poor fellow? “Not much to know, sadly. I’m a bit of a workaholic these days. I was recently promoted at the newspaper I work for, which has definitely added to my work load.” I tapped my index finger on the dampened bar napkin beneath my sweating brown bottle. It did sound a bit tragic when I heard myself say it aloud. I was a soon to be 23 year old single woman, living in a bumbling metropolis, no children, no heavy responsibility other than a steady job which most of the time felt more like a paying hobby than an actual career, and I spent the vast majority of my life tucked away at my desk, or in my lonesome apartment with my nose tucked into my computer. Aside from the occurrences when Tia would suggest dinner, or the occasional appearance at a newly opened nightclub, which I was strangely enough beginning to enjoy a bit.

“Nothing wrong with dedication in my book! I admire that you take what you do seriously. And the fact that you’re a complete knockout just adds to the allure.” Luke said with eyes zeroed into my own.  Swallowing the last swig of my drink, a pang of guilt flinched in my belly. I was genuinely enjoying the banter of small talk the evening had consisted of thus far, but the feelings didn’t go much deeper than that. Not to say necessarily I wanted to be there with Colton instead, because every ounce of remaining conscience within me advised otherwise. I felt it wasn’t wise to be out without anyone yet, considering the state I was in. After returning from the short visit back to Indiana, sure my emotional state was frequenting more on the border of happiness, and almost contentment rather than the doom & gloom of before. But, I was far, far from ready to dive into the dating pool again. The proven dangerous, unruly, painful dating pool. My heart not quite nursed back to it’s original state, and ready to open up to the next Pittsburgh man. Regardless of how purely genuine and handsome that man may be. Luke didn’t deserve to be trampled on, and strung about by an unstable mess of a woman living in a never-ending state of confusion.

“Oh gosh, Luke. Thank you, really.” I tucked a curled strand of hair behind my reddening ear. “Can I be super honest with you right now? At the risk of sounding like a total heartless wench…”

His look narrowed behind stringy eyelashes, and he leaned in. “Uh, sure? Yeah. Shoot.”

Flashes of  what I imagined would’ve likely been a stable, routine, safe and steady relationship with the confused man across from me sparked through my thoughts. All the attributes any sane woman would hunt out in a partner, yet all the things to me that seemed, dull and tedious.

“You have been nothing short of a total charmer since our introduction tonight. And I-” I began before Luke interjected with a cautious smile, and knowing nod.

“Ohhhh, I think I know where this is headed.”

“Any woman, I mean literally any woman, including my clearly stupid self, would be lucky to be in your company. Which is why, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror again if I carried this far enough to let you get hurt.” My saliva thick with nerves and what I hoped wasn’t regret as I let my date down as easily, and earnestly as I knew how. “You have no idea how bad I sincerely wish I could slap the ignorant decision I’m about to make right out of me… But, I’m just not ready, ya’ know? I’m kind of a pile of wreckage at the moment, and you don’t deserve to have to glue it all back together.”

He bobbed his head lazily and relaxed back into his chair. “As much as I don’t like it, I understand it. Tia kinda informed me that you were still reeling a little from your last relationship. But, since you were honest, can I be the same with you?” He asked politely.

“God, of course. Please!”

He pursed his mouth seriously before beginning. “The loser who did whatever he did to screw you over so badly, is a mindless asshole, who is apparently blind as well. I’ve spent all of a couple hours with you Liv, and even I can see what kind of woman you are. So, don’t sell yourself short, okay? Whether you give him another chance, or someone else who comes along, make sure he deserves you. And hell, by the way Tia talked you up, she might make her own play at you before it’s over.” I laughed at his response, especially his dig at my proud bi-sexual friend, who never hesitated to playfully suggest I take a walk with her on the other side of the sexuality fence.

As the conversation came to a close, Luke took my hand into his, and ushered me kindly to my car outside. I kissed him tenderly on the cheek before he reached down to open the handle of my door.

“If you think it’ll keep Tia off your back, I could always tell her our night ended at your place with hours of relentless love making, if you want.” I puckered my mouth in sincere contemplation of his suggested lie, but considered it be best for both our reputations if we kept it honest.

“As tempting as that little strategy of yours sounds, I think I better just suck it up and take the scolding from her. But thanks for lookin’ out for me.” A thoughtful smile slid onto his lips as he closed to door after I slid into the seat, before he jogged carefully across the crosswalk.

 Following my date with Luke the night before, Tia had texted begging to meet up for brunch at a place closely located between the center of our apartments. I groaned at the backlash I’d no doubt have to suffer at her hand after I spilled the details of how things had played out with her set up. She’d arrived at the restaurant before me, and was seated at an umbrella covered, mosaic table on the front patio, already sipping leisurely on a mimosa. When she saw me approaching, she raised her hands to a cheerful clap, obvious that she hadn’t spoken to Luke yet. Or maybe, talking to Luke was exactly why she was so unreserved with her merriment towards me. Had he decided to go ahead with his salacious fictional story about what had happened a few hours ago between us?

“I ordered you a drink. Now sit, and spill, LC!” She’d decided that would be her given name for me, given my middle name was Caroline.

“Hello to you, Miss Nosey. Whatever happened to not kissing and telling?” I was giving it my all to avoid crashing her excitement.

“Don’t you dare! I need to hear everything!” She gasped with an exasperated eye roll.

When the waitress came back to our table, delivering my fluted glass and jotting down our order, I was thankful for the 3 extra minutes I had that allowed to me to escape her insistent questioning.

“Alright, but when I start talking, you have to swear you won’t interrupt. Just let me say my piece, okay?” I arched a pinky at her in expecting hers to return in a swear.

“I already don’t like what I’m hearing, ma’am….” She sighed between sips.

“He’s like, beautiful. Like Tom Cruise in Top Gun kind of beautiful. And he was so damn polite, Tia.  The perfect gentleman. But, not in a stuffy way, ya’ know?”

“Yes, Liv. I do know. Which is exactly why I wanted you to go out with him to begin with. Go on…” She cocked an obvious displeased brow at me.

“And trust me 100% when I tell you that after I spent some time with him, I really, really tried, Tia. I wanted something to spark, I wanted to feel that little flutter in my belly around him,” I stressed in a contrite tone. “And I know if it had been any other normal, remotely rational female, that it would’ve happened that way…” Before I finished my plea, I downed the hefty remains of my mimosa hoping for an extra ounce of liquid courage. “I’m just n… not ready, I don’t think. I mean, I feel a million pounds lighter than I did 6 months ago, definitely. But, I don’t feel quite ready to move forward with dating anyone just yet.” I ended my thought, hoping there was a sliver of her that would understand where I was coming from. “Do you hate me?”

She huffed dramatically. “Oh fuck, Liv. Stop it! You  know I don’t hate you. Its your life, and I’d never encourage you to do something you don’t feel up to. And, just because I know you’re driving yourself crazy with it, I just want you to know its okay to still love him. Colton, I mean.” I halted any movement as her words registered to me. Breathing included. “I know you despise him for what he did, and rightfully so. The shithead deserves it. But, it’s okay to love him, too. Don’t beat yourself up over that. Love is this stupid, weird, jolting roller-coaster that makes no sense. And whoever you strap into that seat with, whether it be Luke, or Colton, or some rando you haven’t even met yet, it’ll be right. You’re smart, LC. Trust yourself. And if you happen to strap in with someone who turns out to be a vicious psychopath, then I’ll be in the seat right behind you to throw the dude over the side, alright?”

The girl was a God send. I was so unbelievably thankful for my dangerously loyal friend. Something that now made my life somewhat whole. Almost as whole as the veggie omelet I inhaled, after a side order of cheese grits, of course.

“You’re the best. Like, the best of the best, you know that?” I complemented.

She shrugged daftly, smearing cream cheese heavily over her blueberry bagel. “You don’t deserve me, Elliott. What are your plans today?”

I hadn’t thought much about an agenda for today past the brunch with Tia, but I’m sure it’d consist of something along the lines of a yoga session in the living room, maybe a little research for the next match I had to cover, and lastly spending way too much time pruning in a bubble bath.

“Nothing as of yet. Where are you headed? Work today?” I supposed.

“No, I actually have the day off so I’m gonna head over to the Temple for an extra workout.” Tia was referring to Temple Fitness, the gym close by where she was a member.

“Do you have anything coming up? Like, fights, I mean?” She was still striving to get her feet wet in the world of fighting, so competitors weren’t exactly banging her door down with opportunities.

“Not yet, damn it. But my trainer keeps me in shape at all times, just in case something comes along,” she informed me.

Then, a strange glimmer lit inside her blue irises. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you come down with me? When’s the last time you put a workout in, you delicate little pansy?”

As much as I didn’t appreciate her brutal sarcasm, she was actually right. Not to discredit the wonders of hot yoga, but I hadn’t actually had my heart rate elevated in, well, nearly a year. With Colt out of the picture, I’d lost my running partner. Who was also my bedroom partner, which had been my definite first choice in the cardio department.

“Hey, I resent that remark, thank you very much! No matter how accurate it may be. I’d just be in the way though, Tia. You’re training, and I’d just be, standing around.” I laughed off her suggestion.

“There’s plenty of equipment, you bimbo. Ellipticals, treadmills, a pool. Plenty of things to keep you busy, and get your saggy little tush in shape,” Tia winked. “Or, the fancy MMA columnist could maybe do a little training herself to see what a day in the life of her subject is really like.”

I was instantly intrigued at the bold proposal. I’d gotten to sit the sidelines on everything Colton underwent in the days leading up to his match, but nothing remotely close to suffering it firsthand. We’d learned in school that there was no better way to “know” than to “do.”  I would truly have the insiders point of view if I dabbled around with all that entailed in the life of a mixed martial artist, along with that added bonus of gaining what I very much lacked in muscle mass. Not to mention, the education of a bit of self-defense, which wasn’t a bad idea now that I no longer had my own personal body guard to escort me through the ruthless streets of the city. Damn, Tia and her endless ideas that sent my boxed zone of comfort crumbing around me.

“God, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. Is there anything you can’t talk me into? Like, it’s getting ridiculous. Stop forcing me to be all, spontaneous and what not.” I spat sarcastically at her.

“Well, I haven’t talked you into bed yet, my oh easily persuaded friend. I’ve spared you,” Tia gawked foolishly across the table. I can only imagine the pink cloud of mortification overcasting my gaping jaw.

What crazy plan had she wrangled me into? My hesitant agreeance already a hard to swallow regret. But, she couldn’t drag me into too much trouble with just a bit of exercise, right?

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 

[nathjonesey-75]

The Thirty-Year Itch

When I was a young boy, I used to think that even twenty years was a lifetime – thirty was a millennium. When I turned thirty, I had the sinister feeling that I would have to grow up, start behaving maturely and that my young, green and careless days would be naturally terminated as instantaneously as my twenties.

 As it happens, looking back for three decades – my thirties were possibly more enjoyable, along with the realisation that – as the meme suggests – “Don’t grow up, it’s a trap!” So, turning back the clock to the year of 1989; an unbelievably pivotal year, not only for its eventful happenings, good and bad; but for the long-term change for the world.

 Globally, we had the start of crumbling dictatorships and old regimes as the “Iron Curtain” began to flake. Romania’s overthrowing of its communist president, Nicolae Ceausescu and overhaul of the old communist republic, the smoother Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia and even more famously – the majestically powerful opening of the Berlin Wall, ending one of the biggest divisions of the twentieth century, starting the reuniting of what we now know as Germany.

 From the eyes of a na��ve, small-town boy from Wales who had two passions – sport and music, this particular year was an eye-opening door to wowing, new worlds and understanding heartache in a cruel world. In the sporting sense, it should have been another year remembered for success and silverware for my teams Llanelli RFC and Liverpool FC. Tragically, the events in Sheffield on April 15th, 1989 would change the landscape of years to come for my Merseyside second home after the loss of ninety-six lives at Hillsborough. With only a month to go until the anniversary of that colossal tragedy, I’d only like to think of Liverpool as a city more solidified through its guts, grit and togetherness ever since.

 Not only did the injustice, corruption and governmental evil epitomise the darker days of Thatcherite Britain and its inappropriate old guard of politicians and so-called leaders; but the legacy of loss and undermanagement in football changed how sport was facilitated, law was conducted – and how Liverpool and a city and as a football club – was both seen and run. Solidarity and deep doggedness from the Justice for the 96 team is something which I have grown, supported and seen – and wholeheartedly admired from Anne Williams, Margaret Aspinall and Trevor Hicks and all of their league of big, fighting hearts. Finally, some justice was seen two years ago – but did not replace those lost.

 This would be something which also deeply personified but affected one of my first heroes, Sir Kenny Dalglish. As much as it makes me proud to see him acknowledged in being knighted for his compassionate work in the city’s communities as well as for the football club, his career as our manager was torn apart by this maelstrom, forcing him to resign less than two years later. Probably my most memorable flashback of the year was watching the horror unfold on my grandparents’ old television on that fateful day. If 1989 produced some vintage wines in the way of the aforementioned freedom around the world – this one was a poisonous drop.

 On a more positive sporting note, while this was the height of passion in old Welsh rugby days – pre-Hillsborough’s standing areas meaning you could fit way, way over capacity in each stadium; I remember sitting as a ball boy in the Scarlets matches on frosty, cold nights with what must have been around 20,000 people watching derby matches in a stadium which only held 10,800 people. Possibly the link of two happenings as a ball boy was being interviewed by a New Zealand TV crew, as I was wearing an All Blacks jersey on the side of the pitch one evening – as a precursor to their tour in October 1989. Meeting the squad – one of the best teams (even to this day) I have ever seen, the day after they beat Llanelli 11-0 the previous day. Sir John Kirwan, the towering winger signed his autograph in my little old book with “Go For It”, leaving me open-mouthed, as if I’d met a god.

 In culture, my most-watched movie (apart from Star Wars Episode 4: A New Hope) in cinemas was released in June 1989, among the most memorable of marketing campaigns I can remember as a child. Tim Burton’s Batman was something which I can honestly say – changed my life. I watched it four times in cinemas, then countless times when released on VHS later that year. The soundtrack by Prince, the score by Danny Elfman as well as the gothic darkness were elements with which I identified, more so than Spider-Man, after collecting tens of comics as a younger kid. It began a lifetime of slight obsession with the DC Comics character – which only petered out once Zac Snyder started making (and tarring) the Caped Crusader films with his green screen only style.

 Furthermore to the Prince soundtrack, as it was a world of far fewer musical genres back then; I was a Hip-Hop child. It was a time of mullets, soft rock and heavy metal along the mainstream music world – so discovering Hip-Hop in ’87 was something which kept me a bit one-eyed (or eared) as far as music went. 1989, it can be argued – was the best vintage year for the genre. Before the USA’s absurdly possessive copyright laws came into effect, we heard a year of sublime releases. Genre-expanding, sample-tastic albums, using the essence of Hip-Hop’s DJ styles – cutting pieces of tracks into new grooves were extending this brand of music method with new sub-genre styles. After years of Gangster Rap and politically charged messages from bands such as Ice-T, NWA and Public Enemy, a new wave of artists with alternate points to make had arrived, as did a segway from the underground to commercial hip-hop via some huge hits (Tone Loc, Neneh Cherry and so on).

 This week holds significance as the thirty-year anniversary of the release of one of my most influential albums. My copy of De La Soul’s “3 Feet High And Rising” became one of my school year’s most passed-around tapes. Along with this fresh piece of genius (which incidentally cost the band more money because of the samples used, than made them cash – and which they are currently battling with Tommy Boy Records for being finally released digitally), we were blessed with rap pearls such as Beastie Boys’ Paul’s Boutique, Young MC’s Stone Cold Rhymin’, Queen Latifah’s  All Hail The Queen, 3rd Bass’s The Cactus Album….the list goes on. London’s Mixmaster supreme DJ Yoda even agrees with me on this!

Agreed, as DJ Yoda mentioned, there would definitely be some degree of personal nostalgia, vis-à-vis the albums which saw your personal growth and happy memories, but also the longevity of these album releases, as well as significance at the time. Latifah’s giant step for women in hip-hop, music’s expansion to new land and social equality through the softer messages of new types of rapping, following the domination of ‘Gangsta Rap’ and political bravery in the previous few years.

 One massive encounter in connection with this brand of music – was seeing the DMC Technics DJ Mixing Championship for the first time, on the television. Despite it not becoming my selected style of mixing material years later, this is where it all started for me. Cutmaster Swift was the first non-American to win the title, but it was the imprint on my mind of analogue mixing brilliance which pushed me further into records – and what can be done with them.

 At the time of this all happening, a new wave of music had begun. One of which I may have seen snippets on Top Of The Pops via certain tracks – in fact one which is now on my wall, after it was number 1 in the charts that year. L’il Louis’s French Kiss sounded like an excuse for “rudies” in a song to a fourteen-year-old heathen sheltered lad. After listening to Ice-T and especially Public Enemy’s Fight The Power – rebellion at the time for me was listening to lots of wise uprising, occasionally violent lyrics with lots of swearing and lots of putting White American policies to the ethical sword. It was five years later I caught the club-bug - and discovered House Music properly. But in 1989, it was blowing up as a scene. The effects of raves in Britain and the USA, not to mention the early stages of the club DJ superstar was catching headlines, being targeted by police and the tabloid press – with a late-eighties revamp of punk’s rebellious anti-establishment stance via electronic music and the drug Ecstasy. It was such a big year on so many levels.

 Finally, in other news – let’s have a look at what quirky little differences or nuances our kids would be baffled by – or at least raising eyebrows towards. In 1989, Madonna released the highly-anticipated, then controversial “Like A Prayer” video (for depicting Jesus as a person of colour) via a Pepsi commercial when we only had four TV channels in Britain. Now, we anticipate when she will finally call it a day. It’s not as if the royalties dried up a few years ago, is it?

 Adverts were good. I rest my case (click on link).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYkrvoI_oVE

Mullets and Shell Suits. *twitches uncontrollably*  

 *twitches uncontrollably again as Australia – proudly – announces mullets are back*

 Dear Generations Y and Z, there is a reason these garments have not been worn for over twenty-five years. This is called ‘not being a chav or bogan’. I hope you can understand why it would be dangerous to revisit this abhorrent get-up.

To close – in 1989, Sir Tim Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web, or what we now know as the Internet. You wouldn’t be reading this now without it.

 Cheers.

[keisume160]

I'm so sorry Monsta X Fans. I'm so sorry Wonho.

So... The bitch who tried to end my baybee boi TOP is back at her shenanigans again. I swear Han So Hee is such a bitter trouble making thot. I thought I hated her because I was an insane TOP stan, but no. I find her utterly DEPLORABLE. I'll explain later why this chick has me so angry on a personal level. But as for now, it almost 4am my time, I can't sleep, I'm pissed off and I need to rant.

Some guys I don't know also stepped down from their groups, because they either smoked weed, (Drugs is this bitch's MO), had some shit from their pasts, or was connected to Seungri's Burning Sun scandal, very loosely. I think one of them a combination of all 3. I said guys because I remember when I watched Hallyou Back News l recall them talking about another guy stepping down from his group as well, not long ago. Since I'm a bit muddy on the details so I will only talk about TOP and Wonho's involvement with the bitch.

I don't know who Wonho is or Monsta X, but this shit is upsetting. I feel that like VIPs have been taking hit after from the moment of TOP's scandal, now other fans are being hurt by this chick's poison touch. I can't stand the idea of any other fandom hurting like we have hurt. I also feel like this toxic creature in a Korean woman's skin suit worming her way into TOP's inner circle was the catalyst for a lot of things. This chick is obsessed with taking down idols, ruining careers, and hurting people.

Watching videos of girls in their rooms or in their cars breaking down and crying put me back in the mindset of 2017 when TOP had his scandal and overdosed. I don't l know Wonho or his former group, Monsta X, but I know that feeling of loss his fans are going through. She's wounding another person and the fans that love him so much out of spite and bitterness. It angers me so much, because these men are essentially being punished for being successful.

Now it's time for me to get really weird and personal, because maybe someone can take away something positive for my story.

Trigger Warning: Mental health issues, talk of low self-esteem/body image, homelessness, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, self-harm and talk of suicide is going to be discussed. If these are sensitive topics for you then please DO NOT scroll down. The TL;DR version is I related to one girl who was in tears about Wonho leaving Monsta X, because like her K-pop helped me when life was really hard or just too much to deal with which makes me all the more angrier at Han So Hee. Another girl I related to talked about feeling judged for crying over a foreign celebrity she doesn't know. I had a seriously messed up life the past nearly 10 years and when I didn't think I could going K-Pop and close loved ones reminded me of my worth. We've had so many tragedies in the world of K-pop for the past couple years. Gone are the days were we have the luxury of fan bases fighting over which group or idol is better. We really need to support one another, because we never know who will have their career ruined over petty BS, criminal acts, or Dear God forbid 'worse'.

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Back in 2017, if TOP wouldn't have survived I would have immediately left the fandom. The reason is for the longest time I related to him the most. I completely relate to his love and passion for art. I relate to food being the most important thing in life. I relate to his love of wine. I can't drink it much because of my living situation, but I have a gift card for when I move. I relate to his strange but adorable quirks and habits. I plenty of my own. He loves chairs and finds them sexy. I love beds and find them sexy. I related to his mental health problems. I related to his body image issues. I related to how awkward he gets to touching others. I related to how lonely his feels. He hates being lonely, but he 'needs' to be lonely. For someone who's been hurt like him isolation is the easiest way to stay safe. I can understand this, because I'm hiding in my room most days. I tell myself I'm not good enough for love, I'm not nice enough for friends, and I'm not pretty enough for a boyfriend. Marriage and children isn't even a thought anymore because I gave up on it. I accepted being alone for the rest of my life. I hate it. The thought makes me cry, but people and what they are capable of scare me more than dying alone.

If anyone who reads this has gone through my blog you'll come across a couple real life pictures of myself. I'm a plus sized woman so learning someone who is so hot was once a fatty like me was a huge revelation. When I saw his pictures from when I saw Big Boi Tabi my first thought was "If I can get skinny will I be this hot?" Needless to say I completely missed the point back in my mind 20's. His weight loss was because of his determination to do what he loves. Looking back on it Plump Tabi was one of the things that made me like him. He was so cute and cuddly looking back then. He still had that intense anime glare which made me laugh. It was like if Snuggle the fabric softener Bear got married to Sasuke Uchiha, had a baby in Seoul, then raised the baby in the hood so he can be a an edgy anime teddy bear that grew up to be a rapper. Now I want to draw an rapping anime edgelord teddy bear.

I digress, one if the girls I saw crying about Wonho really broke my heart. She talked about how life hasn't been easy for her and how K-pop helped in the dark times. Another girl talked about crying over a K-pop boy you don't know and your loved ones who aren't fans are telling you to just get over it. I relate to all of this completely. Mother and I have been homeless for nearly a decade. We both are severely disabled, and can't work to supplement our income. It sucks because where I live housing is extremely expensive and our disability income isn't enough for market rent. We finally got a means of getting housing, but there's an issue with our credit. We want to be in our own place before Christmas, but life has been awful to us.

Beyond financial and housing issues, back in 2013, 2018 and just a few months ago I was in some very abusive relationships. During those times when I was being treated so badly K-pop and my loved ones being there for me, I would have attempted self-harm or suicide. The ex from 2018 was the worst of the worst. He was a groomer, manipulative, sociopath who verbally abused me, cheated on me, and forced himself on me in my own resistance. I can't even go into the basement where I live to get cleaning supplies or wash my clothes without having a panic attack. I still remember his face afterwards and I feel gross. It wasn't the first time he pushed me into having sex when I didn't want it. There are times I scrub myself in the shower to the point my skin breaks and bleeds, because I don't feel clean anymore. I even had to get the police involved because even after a year later he stalks me in real life and harasses me IRL. My self-worth has tanked because of him and I'm terrified of being touched in a sexual manner ever again because of him.

For some K-pop is a means of escapism, for others it saved their lives. Some just love the music. Others could care about the attractive idols. It's meaning can have as big or as little impact in your life as you want. For me I can say its mix of the first 2. I can be transported to a different world when I listen to it. I also can listen and be creatively impacted. K-pop helps me when I need to draw or write. Thanks to that evil girl another man and fan base is hurting. When what happened to TOP happened I was in such a deep depression no one got it, in fact I was judged for it. It sucks...

In the past couple years we lost idols due to petty drama, criminal acts, or suicide. We no longer can be in our own fan bases fighting each other over who's the best and who we love more. We really need to reach out and give others support, because we never know who's going to leave us next. Especially us as VIPs, because it seems like we're in the middle of a civil war Seungri Stans VS everyone else. To quote Filthy Frank, IT'S TIME TO STOP!!! We all know 2019 sucked ass for K-pop fans. Fighting each other only makes us lose focus of the outside forces attacking our baybees. I don't know what else to say. I've been feeling this way for a while and the more history repeats itself, the more I get upset. I really hate Han So Hee. I think she is a toxic disruptive force that dismantles careers, because she doesn't have one. She is the antithesis of a jealous scumbag.

I'm so sorry it took so long to post. I was typing this around a quarter to 4am, now it after 8am. I dozed off twice while typing. I know, I'mma boomer.