#Bill Dewey needs therapy

[solarwonux]

36. “I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone from my least favorite book.” “Why not?”

37. “I think you’ve had enough to drink today.”

husband!joshua x f!reader

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst 

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol, drinking, hints at infertility, mentions of a surrogate, self doubt, hints at depression, mentions of therapy, brief mention of poly!gyuchan,  IVF treatment, suggestive, a cat named dog and a dog named cat, reader isn’t a fan of Shakespeare.

notes: this one’s a heavy one, but I wanted to challenge myself with this one. I did do some brief research as I was writing this one but I still could’ve gotten something wrong, so if I did let me. Either way, I’m grateful for those who read and please please please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

Joshua threw his head back downing the shot of soju. His face twisted in displeasure, hissing at the bitter taste. He sets the glass down wiping his plump lips with the back of his hand before pointing a finger at you. 

“What about Elizabeth, like Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice?” Joshua asks, grabbing the green bottle of soju and pouring himself another shot. 

You cross your arms in front of your body and lean back against the dark navy booth. “Nope, try again.” 

Joshua let’s out a sound of annoyance before downing another shot. He doesn’t let the acrimonious taste settle in on his taste buds before he’s pouring himself another one and downing it. The two of you knew it was going to be a long night. Time was ticking, your surrogates due date was approaching and neither of you had picked out a name for your daughter. 

Truthfully, her name should’ve been chosen months ago. At least that’s what you and Joshua had planned during the first trimester of the pregnancy. But every time the topic came up, the two of you would end up frustrated and running back to the drawing board. You had names picked out, so did he. Neither one felt right. It also didn’t help that throughout the eight and a half months of the pregnancy a sense of guilt would wedge its way into your veins.

According to the many doctor’s you and Joshua consulted throughout the first year of your marriage. Your body wouldn’t be able to carry a child until full term. It had impacted you negatively. Your mental health was never up to par twenty four seven, but during that year - the year that was supposed to be filled with happy memories with your newly wedded husband; your mental health was at its worse. Memories that were supposed to be happy and colorful were black and white. You spent every waking moment dreaming about your child and feeling like a failure all at the same time. 

Joshua would hold you every time you cried out in agony. Each sob that came out of your lips would find its way and break his heart even further. He felt worthless not knowing what to do as he sat and watched the light get sucked out of you. He was hurting too, there wasn’t a doubt left in his head that he somehow shared your pain. But he couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to be told over and over again that your body will never be able to carry a child. So he held you and prayed for a miracle every night. He loved you more than anything in the world and although he found himself frustrated whenever you treated yourself like you were worthless or nothing. He made a promise to you in front of your family and his that through sickness and in health he will be by your side no matter what. 

The miracle came after four years. On New Year’s Eve of that first miserable year of marriage you told him you wanted to go to therapy, but only if he went too. He gladly agreed, eyes blown up in uncertainty but he didn’t fight you on your decision. Immediately he started researching for the best therapists in town, forgetting about the holiday party at Jun’s house. 

Slowly he saw you come back to yourself. The first time you smiled at him and laughed he cried tears of joy along with you. After almost two years of individual therapy with the newly added weekly couple therapy session, the two of you decided to research alternatives. Joshua was apprehensive, he feared he would lose you again, reassuring you that the two of you didn’t have to have kids in order to be a complete family. 

That just the two of you, your cat Inu and your dog Neko was enough. In which you agreed but one of your dreams was to bring a child into the world, to be a mother and you refused to have that taken away from you. So, he agreed after many weeks of convincing and a glittery powerpoint presentation. 

Mingyu, Chan and their wife didn’t want kids, frankly it wasn’t for them. But she didn’t hesitate to offer herself as a surrogate when she learned that you and Joshua were looking for one. It took another glittery powerpoint presentation from all three of them, this time to convince you to let them help you. So you did. Eight and a half months ago through an IVF treatment, one of your eggs and Joshua’s sperm were inside of her, healthily growing your child. Each doctor’s appointment you went to, the excitement inside of you grew. 

You stayed up with Joshua talking about how grateful you were that your baby girl was so loved and she hadn’t even taken her first breath yet. Mingyu and Chan showered her with gifts endlessly. A competition between the two of them to determine who would end up being her godfather. Not to mention her other ten uncle’s competing to see who would win the title of best uncle in the whole wide world. A contest that was to be held annually. Or so they claimed.

You were happy and so was Joshua but the only problem the two of you faced was that you didn’t have a name yet. And it stressed out Joshua to the point of no return, especially after you told him that it would be better to just wait until she was physically in the world. That her name would come to you, appearing out of thin air the moment you saw her for the first time. 

Joshua on the other hand disagreed. He lived paranoid ninety nine percent of the time and liked to be ready just in case something went wrong. He also didn’t want his daughter to be nameless and bean sprout wasn’t cutting it anymore. “Okay how about Ophelia, like from Hamlet.” He says with a hopeful dewey look in his eyes. 

You grab the bottle of soju and pour yourself a shot, downing it before slamming it down on top of the dark wooden table. “Absolutely not, I refuse. I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone my least favorite book.”

Joshua ran a stressed hand across his face. He wanted this nightmare to end. No both of you wanted this nightmare to end. “It’s not a book, it's a play baby, you out of all people should know that.” He accused, grabbing an unopened bottle of soju and cracking the seal. “Mrs. Literature major.”

“Does it come with a front cover and a back cover and a bunch of pages in between?” You challenge cocking your head to the side, pushing your shot glass towards him. 

Joshua poured you a glass before setting the bottle down and placing his chin in the palm of his hands. A cocky drunk grin evident on his face. “Yes, but it started out as a performance not a book.” He mocks.

“I disagree. Shakespeare had to have written it down first in order to then show the actors. Therefore it’s still considered a book and my statement still stands. I’m not naming our child Ophelia.” You roll your eyes bringing the glass up to your lips, taking a small sip from it. You were finally starting to feel the weight of the alcohol. It was a given the two of you were five soju bottles (almost six) in and still hadn’t made any progress. 

“Why not?” He whines kicking his feet in the process, resembling a little kid who just got told that he couldn’t have cookies ‘n’ creme ice cream for dinner. “I like Ophelia, I think it’s cute.” 

“Because Ophelia drowns in the play, what if by naming our daughter that, we are instilling her an unfortunate faith?” You explain, drawing it out dramatically with your hands. 

“That’s ridiculous. Our daughter is protected not only by her guardian angels but also she has a whole football team on standby ready to beat the shit out of anyone that makes her cry.” Joshua states in a matter of fact tone while closing the half finished bottle of soju. He was finally starting to feel the effects and the two of you still needed to pay the bill and somehow make it home. 

You huff dipping your index finger into the half full shot glass and wetting the rim. “I read about it once.” You whisper. 

“Where?” He stands up holding onto the table and makes his way to your side, sitting down. “On those mommy blogs? The one’s I told you to stop reading because they don’t make you feel good about anything?”  His arm makes it away across your shoulders and pulls you close. 

You nod, leaning your head against his chest. “I’m just scared and I want everything to be perfect. I know that there’s nothing wrong with the decision we made but sometimes I still feel guilty that I wasn’t the one to carry her.” You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “What if she doesn’t love me?” You cringe at how small your voice sounds. This is something your therapist and you had been working on for the past three weeks. Ever since you realized that the due date was approaching quickly. You’d gotten far but the doubt still lingered no matter how much you tried to push it away. 

Joshua leaves a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. “You’re her mom through and through and she’ll love you no matter what. Your body couldn’t grow her, the risk was too high and I didn’t want anything to happen to you or to her. But that doesn’t mean you were not enough. You have always been enough and you will be the best mom she could ever ask for.” 

Years ago when you had first met Joshua you knew you didn’t deserve him. He was everything you could ever ask for and more. Every time you found yourself drowning he was there with his hand plunged into the water ready to raise you up. He was your pillar whenever you needed someone or something to lean on. He was your voice of reason and your biggest supporter. And it wasn’t fair, because you would never be able to be that person to him. 

“I love you Joshua, thank you for never giving up on me.” You sit up, closing the small gap between the two of you and leaving a soft, delicate, alcohol filled kiss against his perfect lips. 

“I would never in a million think of doing that. Baby I swear I would cut off each of my limbs and feed them to birds if that thought were to ever cross my mind.” He smiles, pecking your lips repeatedly making you giggle. The sound made his heart soar. “I know you won’t believe me but you taught me what it’s like to love someone endlessly and unconditionally and that’s something I will spend my life thanking you for.” He says, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he hugs you close. 

“Stop making it impossible not to love you.” You laugh, circling your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. “I like Ophelia too, I’ll put it on the ‘maybe’ list.” His arms get tighter around, making it almost impossible for you to breathe. He wasn’t voicing his happiness, but you could only imagine the dumb smile he had on his face. 

After all, it was rare for you to admit defeat.

The two of you stayed there for a few more seconds before he brought his face down, stopping just above your ear. “Want to go to the bathroom and fuck,  live out our young adults fantasies once more before we become parents?” 

You pull away an incredulous look decorating your face. “Yup, I think you’ve had enough to drink. Let’s go home.” You stand up, grabbing your purse, pulling on his arm earning a wine from your husband. 

“Come on just once, please baby please.” He pleads and stands up, following you as you make your way to the front of the bar where the cash register usually was. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to be arrested for Adultery. We are about to become parents Joshua Hong!” 

He shrugs, circling his arm around your waist watching silently as you wait to pay. “It was worth a shot, what about when we get home?” He whispers into your ear leaving a teasing kiss against your chin. 

“We’ll see. Now behave.” 

“As you wish my lovely wife.”

#kdiarynet #kpopscape #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen joshua #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #joshua fanfic #joshua angst #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua fanfiction #joshua scenarios

[dollhousemuses-a]

@decanard​ said ;; “You aren’t needing my voice anymore. So I don’t have it any more. Guess we really are imaginary.” It’s scribbled on a notepad sheet and flipped around to show Dewey (from Louie)

answered ;; unprompted

          The voices in his head had stopped for the most part and Dewey had found he hated silence more than anything, but at least this way the looks from concerned adults and the bullying from other kids. ( Not completely, he had set a bit of a precedent for being the weird kid, but enough for him to quietly get by in school now... ) 

It’s not until he’s being faced with a notepad shoved in his face that he begins to regret his choices to ignore Huey and Louie. He reads the words once and then twice, and then his eyes shoot up to meet Louie’s. It had to be true, Louie had no reason to lie, and it makes the knife slowly wedging itself into his stomach all the more.

He wants to reach out, to apologize, and somehow find a way to give Louie his voice back but he stops himself. He wasn’t doing this for himself, he wasn’t doing it because of Huey or Louie, he was doing it for Donald. To make everything easier on him. His uncle didn’t have the money for therapy bills as they tried to figure out what was wrong with him, so there had to be nothing wrong. So he averts his eyes, looks in another direction completely before he lets out in a bitter voice; 

                     “ You’re right, I don’t need your voice anymore. So just stay out of sight and everything will be better. ”

#dewey ;; ic #dewey ;; answered #decanard #decanard ;; louie #dewey ;; verse ;; they live in a fairytale #;; queue

[nodesiretogrowup]

ok, time for a semi-thought out review-spoilers below

I knew that the captain badge thingy Lunaris gave Penny (I shall use this nickname because her name is too damn long) was some type of control device. That scene reminded me too much of Mark giving Gizmoduck that Waddle badge for it to just be a coincidence.

I am LIVING for Lunaris’ dramatic, theatrical voice! He is 100% THAT BITCH

HERE’S HOW PHOOEY DUCK CAN STILL WIN

You know you’re in for a good time when Dewey and Webby team up. I guess old men in Disney shows CAN’T have models in bottles. 

The different family members that Scrooge has pictures of all over are super sweet. No matter what he claims, Scrooge is a family man. 

It’s super cute that Huey was sending postcards. He’s a good boi.

I wonder if Donald’s head is that hard or if the cell walls are really soft.

I bet those visors on the helmets that go over the Moonlander’s eyes are some kind of mind-control devices

I think Lunaris WANTED Donald and Penny to find his secret war room. He sensed her hesitation. Plus if Donald was SO IMPORTANT TO him, Lunaris probably would have taken Donald to the mines personally.

You like Della don’t you, Penny? *smug Spongebob face*

Dewey is 110% THAT BITCH. He and Drake need to hangout sometime.

“We’re both the bad cop.” Webby, sweetie...

Dew-tective. Dewey is pun-sexual

Donald/Cheesy Postcards is otp. But who is he sending those cheesy postcards to? Or does he just collect them?

 The lighting in the noir scene was AMAZING.

Oh Webby, you were so close

“He’s your uncle too.” “WHAT CASE?!” I love my red son.

Poor Donald. It’s not his fault he’s so squishy. We can’t all be Darkwing Duck tough.

Gibbous is lucky to have Zenith. I want more of the two of them. They are adorable

“Almost pleasurable to hit” ...no comment. Also Donald makes the same sound as Spongebob when he’s hit. Therefor Donald must be part sponge and that is how he can take so much damage.

“Inflicting pain is fun!”-Frank’s motto

“This is your moment, Gibbous.”

THAT WINK! MY LITTLE BI HEART COULDN’T HANDLE IT!

Penny’s directions are HORRIBLE. I hope she never has to lead anyone else anywhere.

Their plan was SUCH a kid logic plan. I LOVE IT.

The mailwoman is GORGEOUS AND I LOVE HER.

“Bill, bill, bill. Man, being an adult is not fun.” I feel personally attacked

I think Mr. Jones could have worded his letter better. Also, I keep getting bills from my therapist even though I already paid them so that hit close to home as well.

Donald is too thicc for the vent system.

This scene has THE BEST DONLAD FACES EVER!

The moon scorpion is ADORABLE and I LOVE IT. I bet that little guy is gonna give Donald his superpowers. It followed Donald and helped him out when he was (sometimes literally) in a tight spot.

 I WANT TO CUDDLE WITH DONALD!

“Oooo, seedy.” Webby, hon, we need to talk. Dewey in the background freaking out over the roach was great.

Dewey, darling, you do not have spy skills. We still love you anyway.

Webby is 200% THAT BITCH. I feel like the fake backstory was probably a reference to something but I’m not sure what. The locket thing made me think of Anne. Webby is COMMITTED to her backstories.

DO NOT TOUCH! (DEWEY!!) What has Dewey done with that uniform to warrant such a warning?

Dewey, there is a time and place for your own theme song. This was neither.

Webby, please never change.

Donald’s file is as dummy thicc as he is. I hate myself.

I DEMAND A PLUSH OF DT17 DONALD. NOW.

Donald has entered DAD MODE (™)

I wish Donald would gently rock me to sleep. And tuck me in. And give me a kiss on the cheek.

“Aw, phooey”-because you can’t say “Fuck me” on the Disney Channel

MOONY TO THE RESCUE (I’ve named them and I am TOTALLY ATTACHED/EMOTIONALLY BONDED WITH THEM). 

DAT ASS

Would beds made of gold be comfortable?

DANCE, DONALD, DANCE

“Help me look for them. But DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING.” Penny, you need to work on your leadership skills.

I wish we could get a closer look at Lunaris’ “Most Dangerous” list. The man is thorough. Organization goals. 

I didn’t see Beakley, Webby, or Launchpad on there. Darkwing isn’t on there either, but he’s brand new so that one makes sense.

It made me very happy to see Lunaris continue to get beat up. Not as tough as you act, ya bastard. And he’s a dumbass for not using the dummy first, then testing on one of the moon mites, and ENDING with himself. Do you even science, bro?

The pic of Donald with the eggs warmed my heart. :’)

It’s adorable that Dewey thinks that he’s a detective/spy and that he could get the jump on anyone, much less Webby.

LET THE POOR DUCK HAVE A BREAK! HASN’T HE SUFFERED ENOUGH?!

HOW DARE THAT BASTARD HURT MY MOON WIFE!

“Great victory comes with great sacrifice.” I do NOT like the sound of that.

DONALD IS A DETERMINED MOTHER FUCKER.

I really feel like Donald is the best fighter in the show. Even when he’s in pretty bad shape, Donald can take a punch without getting KO’d. He’s good at evading hits. Jim and Drake may be able to take more damage, but Donald can avoid getting hurt in the first place. Well, at least in a fight.

Lunaris is what Magica and Glomgold think they are. He’s cold, calculating, and organized. He can get inside someone’s head to find out how they work. He knows a person’s emotional weakness and will dig into it. I think Donald might end up throwing off his game because Donald reacts much differently to emotional stress than most. Others breakdown and are at their most vulnerable. But Donald channels the emotions into energy and is arguably at his most powerful.

I think Webby may have a problem remembering what is real and what she made up.

Dewey might have the same problem.

Scrooge, you need to accept the you are old. OLD AS BALLS.

The #1 therapist mug is great. I also like that they once again took a character from the comics and gave them an upgrade. Though Mr. Jones seems like he should be in anger management as well.

If we needed anymore proof that Donald is a FUCKING FORCE OF NATURE, Mr. Jones’ office gives us a pretty good idea of what Donald is capable of. Little guy can pack a punch.

That speech, man. That PERFECTLY explains who Donald is and why he does what he does. I cried when Mr. Jones was explain how much Donald loves his family overlayed with Donald himself backing up those words. POETIC CINEMA! T_T

Donald out-maneuvering Lunaris shows what Donald is best at-reading a situation and adjusting his tracticts/plan. He’s pretty good at thinking on his feet and unlike the majority of the other characters, Donald knows when he’s out-matched. That’s why he and Della were such a good team. Della was the brawn while Donald was the brains.

DONALD IS TOO STUBBORN TO DIE. And Moony is soooo in there with him.

“There goes the bravest man on two worlds.” Truer words have never been spoken. He might be the most stubborn as well. 

SCROOGE, YOU CALLOUS CORKSCREW DICK! YOU ARE PROBABLY THE CAUSE OF 90% OF THAT ANGER. YOU SHOULD PAY.

“Because he loves us.” I’M NOT CRYING, YOU’RE CRYING!

Y’all were SO CLOSE!

The look Scrooge gets when he’s listening to Donald’s message, he KNOWS something is up.

Donald is off to Canada (old SU meme is old.

Seriously though, Scrooge is kind of a prick in this episode. He brushes off a lot of stuff about Donald, like the therapy. I hope this is leading to something like Grunkle Stan and Dipper, that Scrooge is hard on Donald because he sees a lot of himself in his nephew. Both have anger issues and both have unique speech pattern. I’m sure Scrooge has dealt with people not being understand him due to his accent many times.

I like that they didn’t make a joke out of Donald receiving therapy. If this were an “adult” show, the show/characters would probably mock Donald for going. But here it’s presented as a good thing and that Donald is mature and a good person for reaching out for help. The fact that he did it to be a better parent...SO PURE AND WHOLESOME. DONALD IS BEST DAD! 

#ducktales #dt spoilers #donald duck #MY HEART!!! #DONALD IS BEST BOI

[shittyfandomimagines]

Money is a Bitch

Angsty Fluff

Word count: 2,189

GIF creds to owner

“Have you seen my wallet?” Shawn peeked his head in as I was jotting down some notes. I lift my head up to see his face, he looked worried.

“No babe, I haven’t. Do you want me to help you look?” I ask as I put my book down beside me. “Yeah only for a few minutes, I know you need to study.” He flashes a smile through his panic. I get off the bed and head straight for the closet. I sift through the drawers to make sure he didn’t put there or lay it on top.

I go to our shared bathroom that was connected to our room, I clean up the countertop to make sure it wasn’t overlooked. I check the drawers and I even looked through the pockets of all the clothes that were placed in the hamper.

When I come out of the bathroom I see him going through his bedside table, he was huffing loudly, I could easily tell that he was panicking. I sit beside him on the bed and rub circles on his back. “It’s okay Shawn, just take a deep breath,” I tell him and he tries to.

“I’m panicking y/n. It has all of my cards, cash, and ID. I can’t let anyone get a hold of it.” He seemed in pain as he said it, I knew it was bad but I can’t imagine someone just losing their wallet.

“How long has it been gone?” I ask and he tugs on his curls harshly. “Well, I noticed that I couldn’t find it the other day but I didn’t really need it because I kept some cash around the house.” He admits and I nod along, have you checked your bank statements?” I ask and he nods. “No activity yet.” He says and I smile slightly.

“That’s good though! If no one is using the money of a well-known musician, then it can’t possibly be stolen.” I try to be optimistic but I could tell that he wasn’t buying it. “And if it is, they can take all my information too. Might as well move out of the house because they’d have the address too.” He was honestly catastrophizing, he was just assuming the worst.

“Babe, it’s going to be okay. I can help you go look downstairs.” I soothe and he shakes his head. “You need to study for your psychology final.” He states as he leans over to kiss my cheek. “Are you sure?” I ask and he nods, we both stand up. “You’ve got this,” I say as I tugged at his shirt a little. “Thanks, you too.” He kisses my cheek once more before walking out of the room.

I go back to writing down notes on my notecards, I really didn’t see me passing this exam. I really fucking need it to be done with this semester, I was so close to being done with my bachelor degree. I spent 4 years taking many classes of different phases psychology and even internships. I’m so fucking worried that if I fail this then I’ll have to retake this class and not have my graduation this year.

I write down more things about how vital educational psychology is for the school systems and for parents, I skip through the pages to find a quote from John Dewey, who was someone who first educated people about this line of study.

——

When I finished my notecards, I put them on a ring so I could flip through them easier. I started asking myself the questions and then try to answer them. The more I looked at the notecards, the more uneducated I felt.

“Shawn, can you bring me my other stack of notecards from my purse?” I yell and I hear him affirm that he would. I continued to study for my final as I waited for Shawn, it was taking longer than usual. “Babe?” I call out because it shouldn’t have taken too long. When there was no reply, I decided to get off of the bed.

When I walked down the long hall, I could see Shawn staring into my purse. “Shawn, they should be right on top,” I say as I get closer, I noticed that his fists were balled up, his jaw was clenched tightly. “Shawn?” I ask as I come up right beside him. “Did you seriously lie to me about my wallet?” He asks and I furrow my brows. “No! Of course not!” I was offended that he even asked.

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?” He asks angrily and I shrug, I honestly didn’t remember because my thoughts have solely been focused on my exams.

“I don’t know Shawn! Why does it matter and why are you so angry?” I cross my arms and he just fucking laughed, he was so beyond pissed. “Because isn’t it convenient that it’s in your purse of all places?” He chuckles and I knew where he was going with all of this.

“I obviously didn’t take any of your money Shawn, I don’t need your money. You’ve already said that you had no activity on the cards.” I was trying to defend myself but I could tell that he wasn’t buying it because of how red he was in the face, his usually understanding mind was being distorted with anger.

“Yet, there wasn’t any activity yet. You probably needed to pay off all your college debt, I mean it’s almost time for your graduation anyways.” He sneers and I couldn’t even fucking believe him. “You’re seriously accusing me of trying to use your money to pay my bills? Wow Shawn, wow.” I shake my head and step back.

It hurt to think that he believed I would stoop so low as to use his money behind his back. I hardly ever asked for anything, I mean the last thing I remember that I asked for was a package of Reese’s from a gas station like last week.

“Well I mean it’s not the first time I’ve come across a gold digger.” He crosses his arms and I felt like I had been throat punched. I knew in my mind (after all of the classes I’ve taken) that he was only reacting because we both didn’t know why it was there and he was already anxious over it. However, in my heart, I felt like he was serious over the fact that I could do this to him. We’ve been together for 2 years and we never had to deal with this.

“Shawn, do you know where that bag came from? Walmart. Do you know where your wallet came from? Gucci. Wanna know where I got this shirt? Goodwill. Do you know where your clothes came from? Because I sure as hell don’t, I don’t familiarize myself with expensive brands. If I wanted something expensive I would’ve asked you 2 years ago.” I scoff and he just seemed annoyed still.

He picks up the wallet to check it out, there was obviously some cash in there because the wallet was bulging. Him even checking it sent me into overdrive.

“For your information, I hardly have debt because I was smart and went to a cheaper college. I did my homework over it, I applied for any scholarship that I was applicable for. And the fact,” my voice became grainy and it cut out because of the knot in my throat,

“The fact that you just assumed I stole money or would’ve even tried to says a lot about you, Shawn. I am not ashamed of myself at all because I know I didn’t take it, I’m ashamed of you.” I let the tears surface and I grab the notecards from my purse. I run back to our room quickly.

I shut the door and lock it, I didn’t want him even talking to me until we’re both calmed down. I knew from many sit-ins from my previous internship at a couples therapy that the most damage was created from anger.

—-

I told myself I was going to study and not be distracted from Shawn’s accusations, but I was. I was hurt and I felt betrayed in a way, I would have never stooped so low if I were the rich one. I just hated the fact that I didn’t know why it was in my purse, I had no memory of it and I feel like I should.

I know Shawn is untrustworthy when it comes to meeting new people, he has always been afraid that no one wants him for his true self, but his money. I never wanted his money and to be honest, I didn��t even know Shawn was famous when we met. I didn’t listen to pop music and I was hardly on social media because I was a full-time college student, had 2 jobs, and was doing internships.

I just felt myself sigh and I finally closed my book, I shoved the notecards into my bedside table and picked up my mess. I needed to talk to him, I needed to be validated and make sure he knew I was trustworthy.

“Shawn?” I ask as I come down the hall, he was sitting on the couch. The tv was on but the volume was so quiet. He jumps slightly and then turns to look back at me. He stands up quickly and I had my hands clasped together, I have never felt more awkward.

I could tell by his body language that he was sorry and that he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

“I didn’t take your money or steal your wallet. I don’t know how it got there.” I was being truthful and he nods. “I went back to check my bank statements, I used it the night we went to the hockey game. Then I remembered how I asked you to put in your purse because it was hurting the way I was sitting.” He explains, once he said it I remembered that night because I was wishing that my wallet was thick enough to hurt me when I sat down.

I chuckled a little at the memory and he looked relieved to see me laughing. “I remember that now, but why would you just assume I was trying to steal your money?” I ask and he just looks to the ground.

“I’m sorry, really. I know we’ve been together for 2 years but I never know anyone’s intentions anymore. I lose friends and I’ve lost old girlfriends over it, I just don’t want you to be one of them.” He admits and I can see that he was hurt to even mention it.

“Shawn, I have never and will never ask for money. I don’t want you to feel obligated to buy me things because you’re my boyfriend, I’m literally in love with you for a different reason.” I tell him and he seemed intrigued. “What is the reason?” He asks and I smirk.

“Obviously it’s for your body.” I joke and he just laughs as he shakes his head. “I can’t deal with you.” He says and I reach out for his hand.

“In all seriousness, I love you because you’re the best guy I have ever dated. You’re funny and so adorable. You give the best massages and you always hug me tightly. You let me wear your non-expensive shirts, you always compliment me, you never make me feel unloved. You hurt my feelings earlier but I didn’t feel like you weren’t in love with me, you just made me feel like I was using you. I never would do that to you.” I rub his forearm and he nods.

“I should’ve of never accused you of that, I mean you literally only ask for cheap things like candy. I mean you wouldn’t even let me pay our bill for our first date. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and I should’ve just listened to you.” He admitted and I nod, I put my arms around his waist and push him into a hug.

“I don’t like fighting with you because I have been in the psychology classes for a long time,” I tell him and he pulls out of the hug. “I know and I’m sorry I’m such a grumpy asshole a lot.” He pecks my lips quickly and I nod.

He was running one hand through my hair and one against my jawline. “You’re not a grumpy asshole all the time. I mean you go through your man-period but I love you anyways.” I joke and he just rolled his eyes. He kisses my lips again and I smile.

“Do we need to study for the test?” He asks and I nod quickly. “Please,” I reply and he takes hold of my hand to drag me down the hall. “Can you just pay off my teacher?” I joke and he just shakes his head.

“The money joke won’t end now, will it?” He asks and I shake my head.

“Nope, you played yourself.”

In case anyone wants to know, I’m in the process of making a masterlist. I was gonna do it this afternoon but I had a dr appointment, so I’ll take care of it soon!

#shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes masterlist #shawnmendes #shawnmendesblurbs #shawnmendesimagines #shawnmendesmasterlist #masterlist #fandom

[tandicoofficial]

Headcanons and stuff for the Feeling Blue!AU

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First and foremost, providing this AU occurs during a living with Scrooge which it does in my brain— although after the boys know about their mother, so possibly after forgiveness is reached if it is— if not in the show, then it is in the AU. A period of living with Scrooge. They definitely all move out. There are definitely arguments. It’s very possible that Webby, Mrs B, Duckworth and Launchpad would also leave. Again.

Low blow for Scrooge. The second family member lost to his adventures— not only that, Dewey took HIS advice, just like his mother. More painfully, Dewey was a child and Scrooge watched him take his last breaths because of him. And then arguments ensue and everybody leaves. Again. And Scrooge is left with nothing but bitterness and a familiar grief that tears him apart. He spares no expense for the funeral either. But there’s no bringing Dewey back. He sends cards and such, birthday presents addressed to his family and former employees. Bitter as he is about them leaving him, it’s different than Della. He got his chance to say goodbye. He learned his lesson once. He wouldn’t let the boys slip away and lose all of his family once more. He never gets replies. He doesn’t even know if the letters get opened.

Webby still hangs out with Huey and Louie but they’re different. Webby gets lonelier and sadder— nothing is the same. She eventually stops coming over apart from on special occasions. It’s half-hearted. She retreats to her granny because she’s the only semblance of permanence. Webby also slightly blames herself-- She was there, so despite the blame falling on nobody as a whole, and definitely not partially on any of the kids, she feels she could’ve done something to protect Dewey-- she spends most of her time in grieving flitting between bargaining, denial and depression.

Huey is snappy. He rambles a lot to fill the silence without Dewey’s hyperactive babbling. Mostly nobody listens and he’s okay with that. But occasionally one wrong comment sets him off. He has more tantrums than ever— The Duke is always waiting to wreak havoc. Usually Louie and his uncle don’t set him off, but anybody else does easily. He gets told off at school a lot. Eventually gets expelled for punching a boy who made a comment about Dewey. Donald tries to talk to him on the way home, but he’s quiet, and when he goes to his room, he just cries. He’s always dry-eyed when Louie gets home, though. He’s still got one little brother to stay strong for. Eventually he withdraws from social groups— skips JWC meetings, fakes sick home from school, even makes excuses to avoid Webby and even on the rare occasion his brother. He becomes detached because he has no other way to deal with all his emotions in his eyes. The therapists don’t get anything out of him. He won’t talk to his uncle or brother about it. He just sucks it all in and isolates himself.

Louie is quiet. So quiet that therapists call it selective mutism. He only ever makes sounds when he cries. Which is a lot. Often spontaneously, in public or otherwise. He seemed fine, but Donald took him to the mall, he saw a mannequin with clothes similar to Dewey’s and completely broke down. He gets carried a lot more often. Sleeps more. Has to be reminded to eat, drink, bathe and otherwise function. Most of his time is spent sleeping or staring blankly into space or crying. He’ll drop a spoon and start sobbing and collapse. It gets to a point where Huey gets frustrated with his brother often-- Not to tantrum-level, but enough to cause arguments. The thing is that Louie never argues back. Whenever Huey yells, he usually just cries more. It becomes an issue with Donald struggling for money again-- He’s out at work often, so there’s nobody to intervene if Huey goes off. Most babysitters wouldn’t know how to handle it. Louie can’t help going quiet, really-- Three months after they moved, Huey blows up bigtime because of combined stress. He’s the first one to get a word out of Louie since their brother passed...The words are a hoarse, whimpered repetition of “I’m sorry.” It quickly snaps Huey out of it, and he apologizes profusely. Eventually they both calm down, and Donald walks in to a crying mess of boys on the floor. He scoops them up and sits them down on the couch and talks it out. In the end, things are okay...Huey tries not to get frustrated whenever his brother won’t speak or gets upset. A lady who takes Louie out told him he can’t help it. Huey doesn’t really understand why. But he won’t lose his youngest brother too. 

Huey and Louie blame themselves a lot. They were out with Dewey when he got hurt. Despite the blame really falling on so many people, they both, unknowingly to each other, direct it inwards. For similar reasons to Webby, but to more intensity. They both feel they should’ve been able to protect their brother-- to figure it out together. Donald knows that feeling all too well. The social workers and the therapies and the doctors all do their best to get it out of the boys, but it’s pretty much futile. They don’t want to improve. They feel they deserve to suffer for the death of their brother.

Uncle Donald is still Uncle Donald. Which is to say, on the surface, things seem normal. He works more to pay off hospital bills, therapy bills, bills in general. Dewey’s death left them in debt even though most of the emergency care was administered by Gyro and Fenton. He always makes sure the childminder feeds the boys and puts them to bed. Neither of the boys sleep till they hear him open the door at midnight and the insomnia returns when he gets up no more than 5 hours later. He acts relatively like himself most of the time. Except. Except sometimes. A shudder. Watery eyes and choked sounds masked like the clearing of his throat. His brain doesn’t seem to process his boy is gone. One Christmas morning, he makes them pancakes-- as they usually had-- and puts down an extra plate, and calls...”Dewey, hurry u-” And then he catches himself. The boys freeze. The last thing they heard out of their uncle about their brother was his scream after his death. Donald freezes and grips the back of the fourth chair at their table so tightly his knuckles turn white under worn-thin-with-work feathers. He lets out a shaky laugh. “S-Silly me.” He puts the pancakes in the fridge. A couple days later, Huey’s the one who throws them away. He knows his uncle couldn’t bring himself to.

This kind of denial shows a lot in their uncle. Buying clothes or gifts for a trio and then remembering. Cooking food for three kids and then remembering. Introducing his triplets, Huey, De-...And then remembering. He doesn’t cry. Not when he thinks the boys are watching, anyway. But the strain and shake in his voice as he corrects himself is enough to show them their uncle isn’t as fine as he’s trying to act. 

Donald gets tireder and tireder and tireder. To the point where it’s a problem. To the point where Uncle Donald keeps falling. Sometimes even going unconscious for minutes...He always says it’s fine, that he just needs to rest, and the boys let him rest. They didn’t realize that anything was really wrong till Donald didn’t come home on a day when he was meant to be in early. They rushed to answer the knock at the door with desperation, but didn’t find the Uncle that they were looking for. No, instead, it was Gladstone. “Hey, kids. Your Uncle Donald had a little accident at work, and he’s a bit sick, so you’re gonna come stay with me for a while, okay?” As willing as the goose is, he isn’t Donald, and he has no idea to answer the questions the boys give him on the way to his house. 

The boys find out their uncle hasn’t been eating much. Or sleeping much. Or doing anything but work much, really. They find out that the social workers wanted to take them away from their uncle for good, including Louie’s, and in his panic, he’d clicked the first contact near Duckburg that wasn’t Scrooge. Louie doesn’t hang around with the lady after that. He doesn’t trust her. Every time they come to talk the kids into a home, they put on the puppy-dog act and beg to be left with their family. A lot of tears. They pretend they’re fake, but a lot of them aren’t. When they say they think it’s best if Donald stays in hospital for a while, the boys absolutely LOSE IT. Gladstone doesn’t know how to help. He hugs and pats backs but doesn’t know what else to do. He experiences something he never thought he would-- The feeling of being a bad guardian. It’s crushing. 

Donald isn’t allowed child visitors. The boys don’t even know what’s wrong. Gladstone does. His cousin stopped functioning. He had a nervous breakdown. But he’s getting better, insisting to get out, insisting he’s okay, insisting he needs to see his BOYS. He runs Gladstone lists on how to take care of them, how they like their lunches, their routines, their hobbies. Gladstone’s so swamped he considers-- he shudders at the thought-- actually WORKING. His luck was enough to keep him afloat, but with two very-hungry-children-stomachs to feed plus his own, it was becoming a struggle. Gladstone Gander, actually struggling-- Despite it all the idea makes his cousin giggle, and he’s happy for it. 

The boys lost it when they found out it’d be a while. They’d already lost all semblance of normal, already lost their brother-- and now they’d lose their uncle too? Louie barely makes sounds at all now, and Huey acts out CONSTANTLY. Gladstone has never heard of the eldest to misbehave this badly. He has no idea how to handle it. 

Huey feels that, with his uncle in hospital, one of his little brothers gone, and the other one barely functioning, he has failed his family. He feels responsible more than ever for everything going wrong. He tries his best to pull things together, to plan family outings, to make things okay, but...No. It’s unfixable in Huey’s eyes and it’s all his fault. 

Louie runs away. More than once. Gladstone always manages to find him (he thanks his luck more than he ever thought he could), but he’s pretty sneaky. The longest he was missing was for a week-- hiding out in Lena’s old place, despite the creeps-- It’s the only place he could think to go. 

In the time Louie goes missing, Huey blames himself more and more and more to the point where he’s not tantrumming. Gladstone recognizes the far-off stare with the dead eyes and troubled expression, the bags and the tiredness and the resign. He recognizes them from his cousin way back when, and it terrifies him to no end. This time, he’s the one who insists Donald comes home. 

Gladstone probably got help from anybody he could think of, but they wouldn’t talk to Scrooge, so that’s a nonstarter, and the family was in pieces. Fethry ended up helping a lot, but he ended up being the only one who could for a long while. Other family members offered days or two at best. 

Fenton wasn’t the closest with the kids but it definitely hurt him to see a child so young die. He probably hysterically tried to save Dewey long after his boss had given in, told him he’s gone, that there’s no way of bringing him back. He tried so hard that he’s one of the only people linked to Scrooge that continues to visit regularly. The boys are awkward around him, but his chatter about Gizmoduck perks them up a lot. And Gladstone appreciates it especially. He rarely sees the boys smile nowadays.

Launchpad checks in regularly, too. It’s less awkward, certainly-- They hug him with, if Gladstone would dare say it, more affection than they did the goose himself. Launchpad always lifts them up on his shoulders, takes them out, tries to make them smile. He’s like a stand-in Donald and he wears the label proudly. 

(That’s all I’ve got for now. Go wild with the idea if you want! Make your own headcanons!! Decide how things end!! It’s up to you!! The next few animatics for this AU are in the workings.)

#ducktales #dt #ducktales 2017 #dt 2017 #dt17 #feeling blue!AU #long post #headcanons #tandico speaks

[wanderbitesbybobbie]

An Open Letter to My Future Self

We will all reach that age when everything is just uncertain. I hope I reach the age of 50 (or beyond) and be able to read this with the hopes that things have changed for the better.

Dear Future Self,

You wrote this when you were a confused 28 year old adult. In a couple of weeks, you are not 28 anymore. I hope you are reading this while you are in a happy place, sipping on a glass of ice-cold Moscato by your balcony, or chilling with a bottle of beer by the beach. To be honest, I am so proud of you because at this age, you still have your goals intact and you are still pursuing it so keep it up! At the time you wrote this, you just got home from Sydney, and you realized that “home” will never ever be the same when you first left. Today is Valentine’s Day of 2018 and for the first time in so many years, you celebrated Valentine’s Day by yourself (with your dog Dewey). Despite that fact, you never felt so complete before. You were surrounded with your loving family and to you, nothing means more than that. In the past couple of months, you experienced so much in every aspect of your life. You had your ups and downs. But here you are, still standing and smashing it.

At the moment, you are thinking “where should I start?” It seems like your entire life is a total wreck right now, but you are still trying to put your sh*t together. Back in Sydney, you rented the best apartment in the middle of the city, and you had to let it go. There’s this point when you will doubt your choices in life, but in the end you still have to make those choices. There is NOTHING WRONG with FALLING APART. But there’s also this concept called STARTING OVER. In your 28 years of existence, you have learned that when life hits you, it hits you hard. It’s up to you how you will recover. “Adulting” is never easy. On normal instances, you have to finish school, work your ass off, pay your bills, balance your career and relationships, and try to build your social network all in one go. But you my dear, at 28… You have gone through so much in a span of 12 months.

  At 27, you decided to live abroad to pursue your passion in Patisserie, and that’s beyond brave. Living alone in a whole new environment with no one but yourself is a leap of faith. Looking back, everything was unfamiliar but you survived. You’ve experienced being a chef/kitchen-hand at a Lebanese Cafe. Do you remember the amount of pots and pans you had to clean while plating all those French Toasts and Burgers and Lebanese Sausages?  You also tried your luck in the cleaning business where you had to clean this entire warehouse of expensive cars at Villawood in a span of 4 hours. Don’t forget your experience in sales for Doctors Without Borders where you had to go door-to-door asking for a recurring donation for the organization. That was almost 100 doors in a day. Thank God it was winter. And of course, your favorite part was being a full-pledged Pastry Chef at an Italian Fine Dining at Rhodes. That was the hype of your career aside from The Royal Chimney which you built when you were younger. It was helluvah ride for you, and on top of that… let’s not forget you were also a FULL-TIME student aiming to ace your grades. You finished school (for the 3rd time) with passing grades. Hurrah! Your entire 2017 was a balancing act and you finished it as a Level 4 Certified Pastry Chef. Wow!

But of course, despite the blooming career, life will always throw something at you. There comes your marriage issue. For a lot of reasons, you thought you can put the relationship back together, but then you asked yourself and prayed… “Is it worth it?”, and God gave you your answers. He left, just like that. He did not have the confidence to say it straight to your face. It stings at first, just like a band-aid being pulled off from your wound. It will hurt, but when it’s over you will feel relieved. However, it will always leave a scar. You will be numb at some point, but when you see that scar, it will remind you of all the bitterness of how you tripped over.

Let me just say, it’s not a failed marriage on your part because you tried. It takes two hands to clap, so never regret that fact that you tried. You will heal and move on. In the right time, you might be able to meet the right person who will be ready to plan the future with you and actually fulfill it. You just have to learn how to love yourself first before you can love others.

The future might be overwhelming and terrifying. It’s OK to cry. Sometimes, your tears will give you a better view of what lies ahead. Allow yourself to take a clearer glance. You have your own future and everything lies in your own hands. Do not be afraid to fail because there is always time to stand again. If in your lifetime, you don’t meet “THE ONE”… That’s OK. There is absolutely nothing wrong with living alone. You just have to learn to be contented with the people you are with. They will come and go and that’s life, but the people who values you the most will always make an excuse to stay. Just live in the moment, no matter how painful or confusing. One day, you will be strong and happy and “right now” will only be just a memory.

Aiming high for your future is not a sin. There is nothing wrong with taking risks and going out of your comfort zone. Always remember, those that support you all throughout your journey are the people who truly cares so allow them to be there for you. Do not close your door to anyone who wants to know you at a closer distance.

At 28, you’ve had your fair share of hospital visits. I hope you are taking good care of your health now. Your GP in Sydney suspects Multiple Sclerosis because of your symptoms, and your physio therapist agrees with him. You’ve been patient with your nerve therapies for the past couple of months, and I’ve never seen you that persistent. You’ve been delaying your Neurologist check-up since December though and everyone is worried about you. I am glad you finally made that call and booked that appointment. Hon, I know you are scared. But the only solution to your sudden headaches and numbness is the advice you will get from your Neurologist. I hope you don’t miss your appointment. You’ve gone through life-threatening surgeries. This is nothing. Be brave.

Wherever you are right now, I hope you are doing OK, alive and kicking, and still slaying. Are you in Tasmania, managing an ice cream shop with your BFF? Are you in Greece? Living with your rescue dogs just along side the beach? Or are you traveling the world while remotely managing your E-Commerce shops? Did you live by your goal of being rich at 33? Hahaha. It may sound hilarious, but knowing you… You have the ability of making your dreams come true as long as you focus on it. Being called a “chef” was just your idea of adding some letters before your name (because you can’t be an Engr., or an Atty. or a Dr., or an Arch. because Maatthhhh), but to hell with it. You became a chef at 21 because you wanted it. Building a cafe was just your dream, and you did it at 24. You traveled the Philippines, explored Asia, and you actually wrote about your travels for a living at the age of 26. Living in Sydney was just your “future plans”, but you did it at 27. So your goal of making it big at 33… I believe in you. I just hope you don’t give up on whatever that motivates you.

“I believe in you 100%” someone so dear to you once told you that. It makes a big difference when others start believing in your abilities aside from yourself. Cherish those people. You will only meet them once.

In your lifetime, there will come a point when you will ask yourself… “Am I not a likeable person?”, “Will anybody be able to accept who I am as a person?”, “Am I not worth fighting for?”, “Am I not worth a try?”, “Am I not worth the risk?” My dear, YOU ARE WORTH EVERY DAMN FEELS. But only the right people will see that worth. You do not need validation from anyone. Just be yourself. Be whoever you want to be. Not everyone will have the same thinking as yours and not everyone will give the same effort as you give them. For that, you have to ask yourself again. Are they worth it?

But if in your lifetime you are able to find the people who will choose you over so many things that may be thrown at them, embrace these people. They are yours. You have the power to also choose them.

I hope by the time you are reading this in the future, you have learned your lessons. You are stronger and wiser. I know you won’t allow yourself to stumble on the same mistakes of the past. You are braver than you ever were. You know that heartaches are just temporary and you will heal eventually. Recovery is a tough process, and you have to go through it. Kinaya mo nga mag-isa sa Sydney eh. Kaya mo yan! 

Just continue traveling and moving forward. Just allow yourself to meet new people and be open for opportunities that might come your way. Allow them to take you to places, but never put yourself in a situation that will push you beyond your limits. You got this! You’ve come this far. Ngayon ka pa ba susuko kung kailan ang layo na ng narating mo? Push lang ng push! 

And as you always say when you were younger… GO WHERE YOUR DREAMS TAKE YOU. I hope you are still going to where you really want to be. Keep up the faith.

I love you always and 5-ever.

  BOBBIE (Your 28 Year Old Self)

  An Open Letter to My Future Self was originally published on WanderBitesByBobbie