boyfriend drabbles (pt.33)
pairing: jungkook x oc
summary: the one where you and jungkook celebrate christmas, and you get a tiny bit jealous
word count: 1.4k+
masterlist
 sometimes you curse the universe for intoxicating you, making you become addicted to him like a drug. every moment spent with him made you find another reason to love him, another reason to gaze at him and think one thing: forever.
to you, jungkook is like an angel, glowing the brightest amongst all darkness and light in your life, always there to catch you if you fall. it makes you wonder just how much you’ve done in your past life to deserve a man like him.
that’s what you think as you hold the front door open for your boyfriend, who’s grunting as he tugs the christmas tree into your apartment. the lights in the apartment have yet to be switched on, and only the little cat lamp that jungkook had bought you a few years ago provides minimal light to guide the both of you through the door.
yet even the small lamp manages to make his face glow, his eyes meeting yours for a second when he realises your staring, again. instantly it’s like you’re falling in love all over again, and jungkook loves every moment of it. the way your pupils dilate the moment you look at him, or the way your eyes instantly light up even at the mere sight of him.
“where should the tree go?” he hums, halting in his steps as he pulls the tree to stand upright, huffing when the weight finally lifts off his hands.
“right next to the fireplace,” you point over to the empty spot where a plant use to sit, before you had overwatered it and caused its death. “right… here!”
jungkook carefully adjusts the tree, realising it might have been much larger than the both of you had expected it to be, as he notices how close it is to the ceiling.
“baby, are you sure this is the right size?” he laughs as you peer up to the top of the tree, bewilderment written all over your face as you try to recall if it was meant to be this big.
“i think we got the wrong size!” you whine, realising that since the top of the tree was so close to the ceiling, the star that you had planned to place at the top would definitely not fit.
“it’s okay, you know what they say, the bigger the better,” he snorts, sending you a wink as you gasp at his sudden innuendo, before sending a smack to his chest as you sigh.
-
“oh, you two are finally here!” your sister squeals when she opens the door, your niece running to peek at you and jungkook between her mum's legs as she waves at you shyly.
“yeah, sorry we got caught in a jam,” your boyfriend explains, passing the huge bag of gifts that he insisted the two of you needed to get for your niece, the small girl hiding behind her mum now curiously peering into the bag.
“come in, come in, ___ everyone’s excited to see him,” she snickers as you roll your eyes.
every year your family hosts a huge christmas celebration with friends and relatives, and one thing that doesn’t fail to happen is the guests gushing over jungkook.
“oh, jungkook is here!” your mum immediately calls out when she spots him supporting you as you remove your heels, your boyfriend chuckling when the aunties squeal a little louder than usual, him becoming the center of attention as he greets everyone.
“all good?” he turns to you, whispering slightly so that only you can hear his words, and you turn to him and meet his gaze.
“yeah, seems like you have fans here too,” you joke, poking his rib, jungkook laughing before he’s being called to answer more questions about, ‘what have you been up to lately’ and ‘you look more handsome”
as the conversations flow, you’re having a pretty good time catching up with your relatives, and chatting with newly made friends, but there was a sight that poked at your nerves ever so slightly.
a girl, looking about your age, which you had been sure was your sister’s college friend, batting her eyelashes at your boyfriend as she attempts to flirt with him.
“you’re so muscular, i’m sure you’d be able to lift me up so easily,” she giggles, reaching her hand out to slap over jungkook’s, but not before he quickly slips his hand off the table and onto your thigh, thumb stroking the exposed skin as he laughs nervously.
“so, how long have you guys been together anyways, like a year? ten months?” she smiles a little too widely, gesturing to you sitting next to him.
“we’ve been together for six years,” he proudly says, now shifting his arm around your shoulder as he shifts his gaze to you, noticing the slightly stiff and awkward look on your face.
the girl on the other hand tried to conceal her surprised expression, which she doesn’t do very well considering both you and jungkook noticed the shift in her demeanor.
“i’m gonna refill my drink,” you awkwardly shuffle out of your seat, grabbing your cup that couldn’t have been less than half full, quickly walking towards the table where the pitcher of water was.
“baby,” you hear jungkook walking up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifts your body to face him.
“save me from her, please,” you hear him plead, now looking up to meet his eyes.
you almost burst out laughing at the desperate look of pure torture on his face.
“she’s being so obvious, when i’m literally sitting next to you,” you roll your eyes, pouring the water into your cup before jungkook takes the pitcher from your grasp.
“jealous?” he smirks at you, now passing you the full cup of water, “i’ll make sure she knows i have the fattest crush on you,”
you let jungkook drag you back to the table, not missing how the girl squints at your interlocked hands that disappear under the table when the both of you sit back down.
suddenly, a piece of meat is being brought to your mouth, as you widen your eyes in surprise, but you happily accept it as you open your mouth, letting jungkook feed you.
“good?” he asks you, making his voice loud enough for the girl sitting opposite to hear, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his lips, and staying there a little longer than needed, but just long enough to send her a message.
she seems to receive the message well when she scoffs and pokes at the potato on her plate.
-
“finally,” you huff, clicking in your seatbelt as jungkook gets in the driver’s seat and shuts his door.
the engine hums softly as you drive home, the warmth of the car cocooning you both.
jungkook, still riding the high of the night, reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours, his thumb gently tracing patterns on your hand.
stopping at a red light, jungkook turns to you with a playful grin. “can you believe that girl thought we'd been together for only a year?” he chuckles,
“six years of putting up with you, and she thought it was just a year,” you playfully quip, earning a light nudge from him.
-
the familiar scent of your apartment greets you as you step through the door, and jungkook wastes no time pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you.
“i missed this," he murmurs against your hair, and you smile, reciprocating the hug.
“me too, maybe next time we should make out in front of her,” you giggle, making jungkook tut at your words.
you decide to unwind on the couch, the soft glow of christmas lights creating a cozy atmosphere. jungkook wraps a blanket around both of you, his arm draped casually over your shoulder. with the tv remote in hand, he navigates through the movie options with playful commentary.
“let’s watch the grinch,” you point at the tv when it lands on the movie, and he nods, clicking on it.
as the movie begins, jungkook’s affectionate nature takes center stage. he presses gentle kisses to the top of your head, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.
“baby, focus on the movie,” you giggle when his breath fans against your ear, tickling the skin and making you squirm.
“shh, let me love you,”
with the room bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights and whispered conversations between scenes, jungkook’s fingers find their way through yours, a silent reassurance that he's there, grounding you in the moment.
you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. his fingers gently play with your hair, and the room is filled with a sense of contentment. the outside world fading away as you lose yourselves in the movie and the warmth of each other's presence.
taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere @laylasbunbunny @borahaexoxo @jklvrs-world @jksoftii @yoongisgirl69
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spreading the love
summary - harry’s fans LOVE you
pairing - fiancé!harry x reader
word count - ~2k
The fans absolutely loved you.
Probably more so than Harry sometimes.
You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.
Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.
You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.
And everyone adored you.
Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.
You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.
You loved how much they loved your Harry.
“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.
Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.
“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”
Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.
ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛
“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”
You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.
harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?
“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”
You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.
“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”
haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?
“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.
You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.
Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.
jammiiie: Are you single please?
“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.
Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.
He gets clingy. And you love it.
You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).
harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍
“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.
“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”
ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time
harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded
“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”
harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷
kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33
justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N
liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others
harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️
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harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL
harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!
y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛
harryfan3 we stan y/n
••••••••••
London was quite busy today.
Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.
Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.
It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.
Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.
Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.
“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.
“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.
“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”
“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.
“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”
“She will be. I promise.”
You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.
You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.
“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.
You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.
“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.
“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.
You smiled at your handy work.
He looked even more handsome now.
As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.
You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.
“She had good taste in music.” He joked.
You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.
You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.
“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.
“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.
“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.
“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.
“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”
“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”
“Wembley night 4.”
“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.
You always did this.
You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.
“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.
“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.
“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”
You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.
“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.
“Sign of The Times in the rain.”
“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”
“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.
“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”
“Emma.”
“Emma.” You smiled.
“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”
“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.
“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”
“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”
“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.
“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.
“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.
“They okay?” Harry asked.
“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.
After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.
Positive interactions just made for better days.
Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.
comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other
comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP
comment 3: they look so happy i will cry
•••••••
Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.
Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.
Until you.
You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.
Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.
“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.
“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.
You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.
“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.
“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”
“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.
You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.
You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.
Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.
harriesunite: these are my parents
“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.
“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.
“You’re such a dad, apparently.”
“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.
“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.
“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.
“Soon.”
“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.
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Hey, so I rlly just need to trauma dump. And I can’t use any of my friends bc I feel to selfish so I’m putting it all into a tkl fic🤭
WARNINGS: mummy issues, alcohol, mentions of being drunk and tickles
Characters: ler!millie and lee!y/n
𝗗𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀.
I sigh. Looking over to see my mum, crashed out on the velvety grey sofa.I glance at the time
6:24pm.
A typical Wednesday evening.
I stand up. Snatching the the glass of fizzy poison off the table and saunter to the kitchen. Tipping the half-drunken glass of liquor down the drain. Watching it splash into the sink before gurgling down the pipe.
I tilt my head to the left to see 3 empty Prosecco bottles, sitting proudly on the kitchen counter. Sitting proudly knowing they took my own mother away from me. Causing her to fall asleep before sunset, causing her to say harmful things, causing her to become a careless, mindless mess. Why? Why put me through that. A 10 year old didn’t deserve that.A 10 year old shouldn’t have to feel responsible for her own mothers nonsensical actions. A 10 year old shouldn’t have to look after her own mother because she couldn’t control her addiction. A 10 year old shouldn’t have to put a mother to bed before her own bedtime. But here I am. Years later, still sulking about the true mess my mother has let herself become.
I feel numb.Depthrived of any feeling at all. I find myself zoning out. Thinking about the better times. Any time was certainly a better time then this. Trying to reminisce my childhood. Although my childhood was just one big blur. My earliest memory was my mum and dad parting when I was 5. I remember feeling so…lost. Lost in my own thoughts as they piled and crowded In my own head. Why?. Why did they have to break up? Well, this question was too much to consider for my 5 year old brain, but a couple years later I found out. My mum decided to let go of my dad becuause of his love for drinking. See the problem? My whole life is just one endless, suffocating loop. I understand the idea of karma and bad luck but I must have done something really bad for this to happen to me. I refuse to talk about it because as I do, I feel my words becoming pointless and dim-witted. Why talk about it? People having real trauma. My trauma is bottled up in a Prosecco bottle.
I awake from my useless daydream and I carefully pick up the bottles one by one of the marbled counter and delicately place them into the bin. Trying not to wake my mother. I hear a soft clink sound as I realise my grip and plant them and then softly close the bin lid. I check the time again
6:37pm
I tread back to the living room hearing the soft snores of my mum and the tv playing in the background
I kneel next to her and faintly shake her “mum, come on, let’s get you to bed” she opens her eyes and nods before groggily pulling herself to her feet and began to amble up the stairs. Me shortly behind me, reassuring she doesn’t fall. My mum wasn’t abusive, or nasty, or shouty. She was just forgetful and unintelligent once she was under the spell of alcohol. She wasn’t a danger at all really, but she still needed my assistance. Yes, it was draining and I would get exhausted and angry of the same pattern of drunken nights but I couldn’t bare to think of her injuring herself because I wasn’t there to take care of her.
As we reach the the top I perch myself on the top of the stairs, waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth.
Once she finished she dawdles to her bed where I make sure she has a glass of water, her phone is on silent and I tuck her in. “Goodnight”she smiles “Goodnight mum.” I sigh as I shut her door.
I make my way back downstairs and check my phone
Millie👩❤️💋👩🫶 just snapchated you
Ah. Millie. I opened her snap to see “hey!! Wanna come over?” I smiled to yourself.I could use a distraction after all, i thought. “I would love to!” I typed back seeing her bitmoji pop up and start typing “okay! come over whenever” “leaving now🫶” i replied as she just typed “great see you soon🤭”
I turned off my phone off before placing it in my back pocket. What’s the worst that could happen? She was asleep. I pondered. So i grabbed my keys and left. Making the short trek to Millie’s house.
As i arrived i pulled my phone out to check the time
7:16pm
I pace to her front door and knock. Shortly after seeing the door open to the beautiful blonde. Smiling. “Hey!!” She can see that I try give a half-hearted smile and she put her arms out
Affection wasn’t really my thing, but I felt safe, secure in Millie’s arms. So I stepped and wrapped my arms around her. Resting my head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. Although it was quite. It wasn’t awkward. Volume speaks louder then words. As we stop hugging at the doorway she shuts her door and I follow her up to her room.
She closes the door behind her and sits besides me on her floor “one of those nights?” She asked and I just nod. “Awh, I’m sorry” she emphasises and pulls me closer to her.
Before saying anything else a lightbulb went off in her head as she couldn’t help but smirk
I look up at her “what?” I slightly smile back
“Need me to do the thing?” She asks seeing my smile widen and a blush apear across my face. “I wont make you ask today” she reassures and pulls me into her lap beginning to softly skitter her fingers across my sides
I start instantly squirming while letting out a soft flow of giggles “bahahahha mihihilieee!” “What? You wanted this!” She teased continuing to work her fingers on my sides
I bring my hands to cover my face, muffling the giggles pouring out of my mouth. Millie took note of this and then decided to start slowly scratching at my armpits, causing me to immediately shoot them down to my sides. Exposing my rather flushed face “See, don’t hide your laughs from me!” She smiled before scribbling all over my stomach, occasionally hitting the sensitive spot. Just above my belly button. My eyes widened before biting down on my lip, vigorously shaking my head. “Oh? Now your refusing to laugh for me?! Well you did ask for this!” She mused before lowering her acrylic nails down to my belly button In a circling motion. Millie knew how to make me crack, she did it enough times to know all of my sweet spots. “BAHAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOO” I squealed, before rocking from side to side while kicking my legs. “what? You know that I love this spot! It’s the one where you immediately burst into hysterics! It’s adorable to watch!“ she cooed before carrying on, teasingly swirling her fingernails into my belly button. “SWIHIIHTTTCHHH PAHAHARTSSS!!” I practically screamed, not being able to take much more of the belly button torture. “If you insist!” She exclaimed before jabbing her fingers into the spaces between my ribs. That’s when I give in and start squirming and sucking in my stomach. “NAHAHAHAH MIHILIEE!!” “Whatttt! I moved from your worst spot! I’m doing you a favour!” She stated before beginning to walk her nails back down your stomach. I winced and tried to hold her hand from crawling any further “OKAY IM SORRY!” I panicked as she just looked down at me and giggled. “I’m kidding, I don’t wanna overwork you. How about we just finish this off nice and soft?” She spoke in a subtle, comforting tone. “f-finish?”I absentmindedly said before slamming my hands to your mouth. Realising what I had just said. Millie found it rather endearing and she couldn’t hold back her beaming smile.
“Oh, I’m getting the impression you don’t want this to end just yet, that’s absolutely fine! I just didn’t want to push you past your limits, especially in a time like this” she reassured before kissing my forehead. I felt a lot of heat rise to my cheeks before just gently nodding. Millies Angelic smile never left her face as she returned her finger to my hips. Squeezing at them softly. I start bouncing and giggling uncontrollably. Although it was embarrassing to admit to anybody that I liked being tickled, I felt so safe with millie. It was like she understood me and she never judged. In fact she always offered and I always agreed. She told me she finds it sweet and adorable after I gained up the confidence to tell her.. and ever since then it’s been our favourite pass time. She then crawled her fingers up to my sides before using her fingertips to circle into them. God, normally I’d be embarrassed about how ticklish i was, even the slightest touch could make me flinch. But this was something millie took to her advantage. So it had its perks. Millie then adverted her eyes to mine, with nothing but pure love in them. She then decided to lightly scribble her fingers at my armpits. Seeing how desperately I was trying not to clench them into my sides. “nahahahahhahahahahahahahahaahaha hohohowwwe ahahareeee yoouuu sohohoho gohohoooddd ahahttt thhihiihs!!” I tried to say through my bubbly, high pitched giggles. “Well, since somebody likes tickles.. I have the perfect person to practice on!” She teased and my face blew up in a blush (again) Millie could then see my giggles becoming more spaced out and breathy, clearly becoming tired. She then took ahold of my foot and began dragging her nails down my black socks. My gaze soften and I melted into the tickly touch, stretching my foot backwards. “naha thahankyohou fohor thihis” I looked up, smiling at her and she continues to trail her nails up and down my socked foot. “you don’t need to thank me, it looked like you really needed this anyway”
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*trigger warning**
I want to speak openly, I can’t do it anywhere else. I can’t be myself around an audience, around people, to or for them. But I’ve always been able to write. It’s like my soul WANTS to spill out onto the pages, like it has so much it wants to say. Writings lonely though, I often feel far too vulnerable to share so please, don’t like the post, don’t comment on it just be here with me. Read it and share my heart. Know me, quietly.
I’m 26 now, I say ‘now’ like it’s been a long and treacherous journey. Because it has. I’ve walked down quiet roads with seldom company. Roads lit up by warm lanterns hearing only my own footsteps echo around me like I’m the only soul in the world. I’ve walked down roads too busy to move, holding my breath whilst the company of other people threaten to pull it from my chest whilst their chatter torments my ears. I’ve walked with lovers some are missed and others I’d rather forget, yet all a part of who I am. I’ve ran down roads littered with shards of glass, naked and beaten trying to seek sanctuary. Many times I’ve abruptly stopped at a cross road, staring at multiple life choices glaring at me until to chose the one that’s right, best suited, yet they all mirror each other. I have learnt the consequences of choosing incorrectly and spent more time sat still in my procrastination garden than living at all and here I am again, reflecting, processing and trying to chose; where to next?
Many things about myself have changed, I have planted firmer less fickle roots. I’ve become grounded and strong, opinionated and unmoving. However, one thing has always remained the same. I don’t belong here. This is not my world, my universe or my life. I am homesick for something I don’t know. I want to follow the nostalgia back to its source but nothing fits, i can’t find it.
Growing up I had a beautiful family with my mum, step-dad and two sisters. Unfortunately I had limited contact with my biological father, he was a domestically abusive heroin addict and my childhood from his care, was traumatic. I loved my home, I loved my parents and my little girls that taught me responsibility and unconditional love, my baby sisters. Along with us my nannan lived with us for long periods of time. I was severely bullied from year 9- year 10 and developed a fear of leaving the house my nannan was my hero. She brought me back to life and helped my family cope with my unusual behaviour, needing to turn the lights on and off so my family wouldn’t die, or walking down the same path for ten minutes so Satan wouldn’t take them. My way of coping with my pain the doctors said, my way of being in control. Then school stopped being an issue and I had amazing teenage years with friends that I love more than life. My nannan died when I turned 16, she was 56 and died from bowel cancer, they said the lumps they originally diagnosed as ‘saddle sores’ from riding her bike were tumours. It didn’t take long for her to leave us. I was diagnosed with depression shortly after and I’ve been medicated ever since, which I am thankful for.
In 2017 I was raped. I always use this a book mark that helps me remember exactly where I was at what time and age, because honestly everything just becomes a blur of emotion and situations. I don’t know why I want to write about this in particular but I think it’s the thing that’s shaped me the most. I am a fucking hurricane in a beautiful and delicate teacup, I am fearless now. The same year I was sectioned under the mental health act and spent a period of time in mental health unit. What’s strange, and almost ironic in the most sinister ‘life’s a bitch’ way is before it happened I was the happiest, most self assured I had ever been in my entire life. I had left a toxic relationship that changed my life, moved back home with my family, took a trip with my friends to Mexico and found myself over and over again until I felt almost a whole person. A few weeks after arriving back in England I had been seeing someone new, looking back, not for a good reason but to sooth my demon that missed toxicity, it was all I knew. He kept her thirst to destroy my life at bay. Alarm bells right there I guess, noticing quickly the person wasn’t right for my new found happiness I concluded the relationship and said we’d stay friends, I collect Humans see, attachments are my downfall and I struggle to let the people I meet go. This particular night I had been drinking, something I have struggled with and been treated for, but I was happy. This was the difference, I went out for a drink with my friends happy and whole. By the end of the evening I began to feel lonely, homesick and very very drunk. So I called said person. I got a taxi to there’s and could barely stand, walk or talk. My soul hurt and I needed to be nurtured, innocently, like a baby I wanted to be held amd loved. I’ll leave out the part where I was sexually assaulted but I fought and lost. I was then shamed because I had been on my period and was called a ‘dirty bastard’ like it was my fault I had forcefully had sex on my period. I’d been sexually assaulted before, three times before, but as a girl I learnt to blame myself. However, this was time was different. This was someone I trusted and who to this day has not spoken to me since. Like it never happened. I became traumatised by my periods and felt like being female was the most disgusting thing I could be. Bleeding. Disgusting. Bad choice after bad choice following that night led me to the life changing decision made by my best friend. I was taken to her house in the early hours of one morning having being picked up by another friend from another situation of my own making. Funnily enough it didn’t stop me having sex l tried to reclaim my sexuality but always ended up in the expression of PTSD symptoms. I was repetitive, sobbing and making little sense claiming I wanted to paint everything white so it was clean. Broken and sobbing she took me to the hospital and firmly fought for my life.
In the mental health unit I met beautiful characters, beautifully broken and in need of sincere Human connection. Some I held hands with to feel less alone. One gentleman I sat with on most evenings, he was old, grumpy and didn’t speak much but I was welcomed to sit and share in his film. He probably enjoyed that I didn’t speak much either. I watched the mental health nurses sign my MAR chart when I took my medication and I’d laugh and tell them I usually do the the signing off of medication and not the taking of it, I’d delight in telling them I were a support worker and not just bat shit crazy. Every night and morning I showered and scrubbed my skin so hard I bled, washing away my sins. I needed so deeply to feel clean. Something that now has become a huge coping mechanism for me. I’d sit and watch the clean green walls, I knew I was safe, I had a free pass out of life for a little while. Being reintroduced to the outside set off wild anxieties I didn’t want to go home and I weren’t ready however the system disagreed. It wasn’t healthy to be institutionalised for long periods at ‘my age’. I went home. For 3-6 weeks afterward I attended AA, I stoped drinking, which caused anxiety attacks when meeting with my friends who drank. Through this process I identified the difference between friends and people I surrounded myself with when I was drunk and the life of the party. As you can imagine, my friend group now is carefully selected and small. I stopped substance abuse and did not own my mobile phone. It scared me and was given to my parents. The first film I saw when I left was ‘the greatest showman’ which is funny isn’t it? Again ironic. I saw it three times at the cinema and I cried on all occasions. I spent copious amounts of time with my shining bright light, one of my little sisters. She was born when I struggled at school and cut through the bullying and now she was here nurturing my bruised little soul again. I coped and saw health care professionals that often failed me but a few grew through the cracks and inspired me. My angels. The system is flawed but there often are people who still care.
After a gruelling four years of work around alcohol and my sexual self and ten years of learning to cope with depression and fighting I’m who I am today. I am getting my degree ( in psychology, obviously) I drink less than I ever have but I don’t have to abstain because I have more self control, I have many blessed people in my life that I love so much I could burst. My life has been equally light as it has been dark. I have grown, shrunk and grown. I have watched the people around me suffer and grow, I have watched them with eager eyes wonder down their roads however wrongly or rightly. I’m 26 and although I’m happy I feel like I’m tired, I’m full from love and full from hate, I’m so tired. People say life is too short and some days I get that, I agree and appreciate that but most days I think life is too long.
All that growing and learning and I still have no idea, when I get to that cross roads, how to identify that road I’m supposed to walk down. They all look the same, yet some have put scars on my wrists and others smiles on my face. How crazy is that. All that growing and learning and my soul is still searching for what’s making it homesick.
I have faith it’s part of the plan. Don’t let the world make you hard, be soft still, be gentle and loving.
If anyone’s out there who feels like they’re tired and want a like minded being to reach out to. I’m here. I’m so completely here for you.
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That’s My Girl Chris Evans X Reader
Overview: You and Chris are going to see your daughter perform in her first talent show. Chris helped with her performance and its a little different from what you would’ve expected...
AN: Another Chris one for you guys! Now that Knives Out is coming out, I’ve had people desperate for more Chris, and this idea melted my heart. This is inspired by a scene from one of my favourite TV shows if you know it message me ;) Thank you for the support as always!
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Word count:2300
"nononono" you panicked as you felt you ankle wobble dangerously. Running on cobblestones In heels was dangerous, and a broken ankle was the last thing you needed right now. You slowed down to an uncomfortable fast walk-jog, willing for your ankles to not snap like sticks. It had started to snow, the first time this winter, and you buried your chin into your scarf so to keep your teeth from chattering. The clock in the local church chimed 7:30 causing your head to whip up in alarm and your heel to skid across a particularly icy cobble. You felt your whole body move back and that gut-wrenching shot of panic flashed through your brain as you saved yourself at the last minute from falling. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, the third time in the past half an hour. You fished it out and shoved it between your ear and shoulder, rounding the corner to beams of saturated yellow light "I'm here, I'm literally outside…… I'm fine love…..yes there was an issue at work that I had to stay for, but I'm here now……okay……I'll see you in a second."
Oak-field catholic school came looming out the darkness, brightly lit up with banners already hanging limply from the steady fall of snow. You skidded up the steps, taking two at a time, to almost trip and fall on the last one. You bag swung around on your shoulder and almost took out a grandfather walking behind you.
"I am SO sorry, Sir!" You gasped "Honestly If I've hurt you-"
"Swinging for the elderly?" A voice joked "I thought we said you wouldn't do that anymore." Chris was standing by the open door, smiling. He walked over, apologised once more to the old man and his wife, before turning back to you, shaking his head. He was wrapped up in a dark jacket over his favourite blue shirt, and his shoes had been cleaned, so they gleamed; he had obviously dressed up the occasion. His hair was still a little messy from a day of running his hands through it, and the sight alone caused you to sigh with joy.
"I'm an addict I couldn't help it," You joked. "Hi."
"Hello." He grinned. He pulled you in for a quick hug, planting a soft kiss by your ear. "How was your day?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Duly noted. Come on," Chris kept his arm hooked around your waist as you both walked into the school "the show hasn't started yet."
"I thought I was going to miss her."
"And that would've made you a terrible parent."
"It would've." It was good to relax and joke around after the day you'd just had, you could already feel the knot in your shoulders start to loosen. You said hi to Lina's mum as you passed and nodded to Sister Margret, who jerked curtly back. The pair of you was just quickly catching up about to head into the hall when a small voice could be heard just behind to you.
"Dad?"
Connie had poked her head out the backstage door. She looked like she was going to be sick; pale skin, sweaty forehead, her nails bitten down to the surface. Her eyes were wide and desperate, and this caused Chris to run over and lean down on one knee. You watched from a distance; Connie didn't like being nervous in front of you because she knew it caused you to become overprotective. You saw Connie shake her head and the words "I can't do it," be said before Chris lightly put a hand over her mouth. He shook his head and spoke soft words, moving the hand to then to bring her head forward so he could kiss the top of her head. Chris said something that caused your daughter to laugh weakly before she said something that caused a belt of laughter from him. He then pulled her in briefly, their cheeks squishing together as he hugged her tight before chivying her lightly towards the door. One last high five and then she slipped backstage again, leaving her Dad to run back over to you smiling.
"Everything okay?"
"yea she's fine. Last-minute nerves. We've been rehearsing all day though so she knows what she's doing."
"I'm just looking forward to FINALLY seeing this secret performance," you said as you entered the auditorium where rows of creaky chairs were set up facing the stage. The sound of a generic TV show single was on a loop through the speakers on either side of the stage, buzzing slightly with the increase of base every few seconds. The air of you headed to two seats in the third row on the inside end, meaning you had the perfect view without having to crane your necks. There was a pause while you both flicked through the programme and said hi to parents of friends and to say hi to that one hysterical fan (there was always one) before you couldn't resist any more.
"Are you going to give me ANY hints about what she's doing."
"Nope."
'Nothing at all?"
"It's a surprise."
"Should I film it?"
"Oh absolutely," there was a glint in your husband's eye that for some reason caused you to become suspicious "we're never going to want to forget this."
You wanted to ask more, but then the lights went down and a thunder of applause. One of the sisters was standing just by the stage with a microphone in one hand and a notebook in the other, from which she read out "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Oak-field's Talent Extravaganza. Now, please put your hands together for Alice and her jumping juggling friends."
*******
"She's next, she's next!" You squired in your seat with impatience, excitement starting to bubble in your chest. Chris handed you his phone, and you set up the camera, propping it up on your bag so the performance could be filmed. "I'm nervous, why am I nervous she's doing the show not me. Oh gosh, I'm panicking-"
"Hon she's going to be fine!" But he still reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it in reassurance. His jiggling knee also gave it away that he too was feeling a little nervous, and that oddly calmed you a little.
The lights went down once more, and there was a smattering of polite applause. Lina walked out first, her smile full and confident, strutting over to her spot with rehearsed purpose before standing with her hand on her hip, poised. Connie, with her smaller physique and her curly hair already coming loose from her ponytail, gave the image of someone who was more reserved and shy. You watched her eyes rake the crowd before she caught your eye. You gave her a small wave; Chris lifted his arm so his thumbs up could be seen over the group. This reassurance caused Connie to nod in determination, before gripping her hand onto her hip, smiling widely. A click of the stereo and the slightly tinny sound of an old Judy Garland song started to play. This granted a nod of approval from Sister Margret. A very devout woman of the church who before the show had sent a list of songs and artists that were "recognised as inappropriate and would therefore not be tolerated." She was also a massive Judy Garland fan and had, therefore, lacked hesitation when putting the girls into the show. The CD stuttered, then the tinny backing track to "somewhere over the rainbow" rang out through the old speakers. The girls started their routine, slowly swaying back and forth, little voices sweet and nervous but to you the loveliest sound. You beamed widely, tears already clogging your eyes and pride burst through your chest. Everyone else saw the charm in it too; the grandparents in front of you cooed at each other about how cute she was. You wanted she lean over and say "she's my daughter," but that would distract you from the show.
A couple lines in, however, the music scratched, stuttered, and then stopped. The hall was silent. Both girls stood in stage, looking at each other and then back out into the audience. Your heart lept into your mouth. You tried to catch Connie's eye, but this was causing you to panic more. "We have to do something," you hissed to Chris.
"Just wait."
BAM! Bass blasted out of the speakers, shuddering the ground. Both girls grinned widely before throwing off the big jumpers they both wore, to reveal t-shirts decorated with flashing stars to match the socks they both pulled up to their knees. Horrified, you heard the lyrics to an all too familiar song.
'I was like
Good gracious- ass is bodacious
Flirting to show my patience
I'm waiting for the right time to shoot my steez….'
And without hesitation, both girls started dancing perfectly in time, jumping, sliding and turning, never missing a note as they lip-synced along. There was a roar of noise from the audience, a mixed response of anger and howling laughter. You turned to Chris, who was roaring with laughter, rolling back and forth on his chair, clapping loudly.
"You taught our daughter the lyrics to Hot in Here by NELLY?"
"But," Chris had to collect himself for a second he was laughing so hard "but doesn't she look great!"
"CHRISTOPHER!"
"It's a great song! Look, they're just coming up to the chorus." You turned back in time to see you, daughter, mouth the lyrics I am getting so hot right now, imma take my clothes off before throwing herself into a cartwheel. You were so shocked you burst out laughing, and then you couldn't stop. It was brilliant, they'd obviously spent hours on it. The audience was loving it too, most of their classmates cheering them in next to their slightly shell shocked but amused parents. The Sisters, on the other hand, looked horrified, Sister Margret was shaking in her seat, her face so stern it looked as if her forehead was about to crack in two. She started to feverishly whisper to the sister next to her. She jumped out of her seat and scurried behind the speakers, desperately trying to unplug them. Connie and Lina kept going, never missing any lyrics or steps. The speakers were eventually cut off, and the hall erupted into thundering applause. Chris stood up, whopping and pointing proudly at his daughter. "That's my girl! That's my daughter!" You laughed at his yells of pride and stood up with him, clapping widely. The lights went up, and Connie's eyes went straight to the pair of you. She was blushing, but when she saw you, she beamed and waved. A sister grabbed both of them by the shoulder and frog-marched them off stage to a waiting Sister Margaret. She beckoned Chris over too, and for the first time, Chris's jubilation faltered.
"I think I'm about to get told off."
********
"Again," Chris said for the fourth time "I am so sorry for getting you into trouble honey." Connie poked her head up from her giant bowl of ice cream.
"It's only a week of no break times Dad. Besides, it gives us time to learn our next dance."
"Next dance?" You frowned.
"Lina's older sister wants us to do another dance for her birthday, to a song called s&m?" Connie shrugged "should be fun."
Chris's eyes widened, but you shook your head. Maybe not tonight. Instead, he went up and refilled all your ice cream pots, putting on so many reeses pieces the ice cream was lost. It was Connie's favourite though, and she squealed in delight before tucking in once more.
"But I'm proud of you." Chris threw his arm over his daughter and brought her into his side, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He kissed her head and smiled proudly towards you "didn't she do amazing?"
"You did amazing," you smiled.
Connie blushed once more. "Lina was better at the dancing than me."
"Are you kidding? You got moves, kid! Just like your mother," Chris winked, this time causing your cheeks to tinge pink. Praise and jokes were exchanged until it was time for them to go, the streets cold and icy with snow. Although she was nearly 9, Chris hooked Connie by her armpits and swung her onto his shoulders, one hand holding onto her wriggling foot, so she didn't fall off. The other handheld yours, making sure he kept close to you as you gingerly walked in your heels to the car. The snow was still falling in from the sky, and it stuck to your coat and to Chris's beard and made Connie look like a little old woman, her hair was so white. She squealed in delight not caring, sticking her little pink tongue out, trying to catch any snowflakes. It was the perfect image, and you feel your heart warm, seeing your small family together.
'I haven't done something yet today," Chris suddenly said.
"What?"
Chris stopped you for a second to lean in and give you a quick kiss, his lips warm and slightly cracked. He broke then there was another, and then he brought your intertwined hands up to his lips to kiss your hand, where your matching wedding bands knocked against each other. There were flecks of white clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes glittered from the string of lights everywhere. "I love you both so much."
"I love you too."
"Love you three times !" Connie smiled. You both chuckled and continued to walk towards the car "Love you four times" Chris retorted.
"Love you five times."
"Six times."
"Ten times."
"A hundred times."
"One Gazillion and three!" Connie yelled, her smile triumphant.
"Wow. One Gazillion and three," Chris smiled to you "we're pretty damn lucky."
You squeezed his hand. "We really are."
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"Why didn't you fight back?"
Now I am not an expert on abuse. All I am about to say is what I know from my own experience, experiences of others' and own research. But here we go.
I hear this a lot from people. People that have never been abused emotionally, mentally, physically or sexually. Now, I haven't been sexually assaulted, so I won't be talking about that as I don't want to be insensitive or ignorant on the subject. Though I imagine at least some of what I say could be applied to that situation.
I also want to explain that while I am generalising a bit, I am not trying to speak for each and every victim of abuse. My intent is not to do that, but to try and explain to those ignorant of what abuse what it really is like.
Now I am gonna tell you why in the past I have not fought back against abusers. This includes (but is not limited to) physically attacking back, verbally standing up for oneself, calling authorities, getting an AVO (apprehended violence order), etc. But to do this, I have to give a (long) decent explanation of what I have experienced. How it feels from the point of view of a victim. So here we go...
I have suffered abuse in one form or another since childhood. As did my brothers. This was at the hands of our father. We were constantly belittled, berated and bashed for any given reason. My mother suffered the same treatment, and did her best to protect us.
My abuser was loud, sadistic. Always angry, always yelling. Loud enough that he could be heard down the street. Our neighbours knew what was happening to our mother, to us. Children. Never once did anyone do or say anything to try and help.
Now being the youngest, I was always naturally shy, and this abuse lead me deeper into that. I was quiet. I knew to keep my mouth shut. Don't talk back. Don't fight it.
If we were running away from our abuser? Do as he said. Stop running. Maybe this time he won't hurt me if I do as he says?
Of course though, he would. I remember being grabbed by my hair, dragged into his car and driven to our relatives. In front of them he beat me until I couldn't cry anymore, then left me there to go have lunch. I dragged myself behind the armchair in the corner to hide. My relative did nothing. All she did was wait until it was quiet, and then hand me a piece of toast.
This is just one example of truth I give. It was a seed that was unknowingly planted in my brain. Nothing will keep you safe. Nobody will help you.
Now I wasn't the only one being abused. Nor did I get the "worst" of it. When my abuser wanted to be nice, he was nice. He would do things for me...sorta. it was conditional, but to me, that was normal.
Now my eldest brother, let's call him Ian...our abuser hated him for whatever reason. More than the rest of us. So he was never kind to him. And Ian resented me especially for it. In his eyes, I was spoiled, a brat.
So he took it out on me.
He took his anger out on me in any way he could, mostly through violence. So I quickly learned to avoid him as well.
If Ian walked into the lounge room, I'd leave as quickly and quietly as possible. If I was having a conversation with mum and he walked in the room I would stop talking. I learned to spend most of my time alone in my room. I ate my dinners in there, I only left to go to the bathroom, or use the family computer (until I saved up money to buy my own laptop to avoid getting in trouble for being on the computer).
So by the time I was a teenager, I had a good system of handling both abusers. At the time, I didn't know that is what they were. At the time, they were simply my father and brother. I still did everything I could for them. I bought them birthday and Christmas gifts with no expectations, I was generally courteous and polite.
But at some point around ages 15-16, something in me has changed, or begun to. I became snappier at them both. If I was shoved, I'd shove back I began standing up for myself. But only a little bit. Eventually, I would still go back to my room, crying. But I wouldn't hide under my bed or in my closet anymore. I was becoming angry. Infuriated. I hated that they made me cry.
I have a sort of revolution or sorts. I gave them the cold shoulder for the most part, unless I absolutely had to play nice.
Fast forward a few years later, abuser #1 moved out, freeing us so much. My relationship with Ian began to improve. He actually started to be...kind to me? He still had a temper sometimes, but mostly he begun being nice with me. And I welcomed this change with open arms.
I became as supportive of him as I could. This involved lending him money, helping him through his drug addictions/rehab, calming him down when he was going off the rails, stuff like that. Whenever my mum would sigh in exasperation and say, "You are too good to him. You don't know how much you help." I would shrug casually and say, "I'm his sister, it's my job" and think nothing more of it.
Eventually, my mum and I moved out together, and the whole family essentially split for the first time, everyone being forced to find their own way.
And for the months in our new home it was just mum and I, we were happy. It wasn't by any means perfect. There were still struggles, and we didn't always agree- but abuse was never present. It was a fresh of breath air. We had finally escaped.
Until Ian came to our door one day, crashed on our couch uninvited and refused to leave. He had completely reverted. His temper was the same as it used to be. He was back smoking ice as well. He completely took over our home, and I couldn't stand it. I was back to staying in my room. In my own damn house. Mum and I couldn't converse without an argument following because of his berating. Yet he was trying to be on his "best" behaviour. He refused to lay a finger on me or mum, because he knew that would be the last straw. He figured everything else was fair game though.
And so every chance I got- I told him to get the fuck out. I told him that he wasn't welcome, that he didn't belong here. That neither of us invited or wanted him to stay. Of course this meant I would receive verbal abuse- but hell, I was used to it by now. Ian calling me fat or a slut or a mutt washed over me as if he'd said nothing by this point.
I wanted so badly for him to hit me. "PLEASE DO" I'd invite him. Just lay one fucking finger on me. I wanted an excuse to fight him. To give him what he deserved. And yet he wouldn't. He'd get all in my face of course- I can still smell his foul breath as he screamed at me centimetres away, spit flying onto my face as he did. He would threaten me constantly- telling me that he would gas me in my sleep, or sneak into my room at night and cut my head off- and I laughed it off. I wasn't afraid of death, and certainly not of him. Even after he picked up a can of bug spray and sprayed it in my face. My eyes, nose and mouth. I didn't even react. Not a cough. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of gagging. "Please try!" I'd laugh. "Please try kill me, I beg you."
Now Ian was (is) a gutless wimp at heart. After a particularly big fight, he would vanish for a few days. One day, he came back, and I ignored him. Didn't acknowledge him at all.
I woke up one morning to find a large jar of nutella at my door. I was confused, but figured maybe my mum had put it there (she often surprises me with treats)? So I put it on my shelf in my room and headed into the kitchen to get breakfast. As I was looking in the cupboard, squatting down, Ian softly said, "Did you see the nutella? I got it for you."
"Oh." I said, continuing to look in the cupboard. "ugh okay..." and then I felt his arms wrap around me in a hug. My entire body was tensed now. How dare he fucking hug me after all the shit he's done!??
"I'm sorry for how I've been. I've just been going through a lot lately" Ian let me go, keeping his hands on my shoulders, rubbing my back.
"Err...okay" I muttered, hoping he'd get the drift and leave me the fuck alone. He didn't. He kept standing there, rubbing my back as I was squatted looking in the cupboard. All I wanted was the peanut butter and this is what I got. "Fuck, you've got more muscles than Jake (other brother)"
I stood up, finally turning to face him. I was skeptical. I'd seen this act before. "Why don't you apologise to (the dog)? Pretty sure he doesn't understand why you were punching him the other day. After all, he was just trying to defend me."
This struck a nerve with Ian. Long story short, that dog used to be his dog. He thought he would be completely loyal to him. The dog was loyal to me. After all, I took care of him, and, you know, didn't punch him in fits of anger.
Anyway, fast forward a few more weeks, and Ian is back to his old self. His true self. It was midnight, I was playing Red Dead 2, trying to relax after a long work night. So of course Ian comes inside, and crashes on the couch. He didn't say a word, which was fine with me, until...
"Turn that fuckin shit down! It's too loud!" I grit my teeth and told him to shut up, and turned it down. I could hardly hear it it was that quiet.
Ian goes to sleep, snoring like a fucking howler monkey (much louder than my game was, mind you), and eventually snorts himself awake half an hour or so later. "Turn that fucking shit off! Go the fuck to sleep you stupid slut! What you have playstation withdrawals??!" etc etc. And I...couldn't stay silent anymore.
I told him if he had a problem with it, he could get the fuck out of my house, considering nobody invited him here. The screaming match began and then he leapt over to the power point and ripped the ps4 from its socket. I snapped. I shoved him away, back down on the couch, and he began trying to kick me away.
But I couldn't stop myself, despite my better judgement, because that had long since turned off. I screamed in fury, kicking him as much as I could, leaping at him and clawing at his skin. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel everything he made me feel. Twenty-two years of repressed anger had finally been unleashed. I felt like a tiger, unable to defend, only attack. I was seeing red.
He was kicking and punching me too, of course. He kicked me back and when I fell, he grabbed me from behind. He tried to get me in a choke hold (a favourite move of his), but I kept kicking, elbowing. He pulled me down onto the couch and I slashed him with my nails. They were much longer than I ever keep them, as I had recently misplaced my nail clippers. I felt one of my nails tear back completely, tearing the skin under my nail.
But that was enough to break free. And so I screamed at him again to get the fuck out. He refused. So I knocked the basket of his shit (little bits and pieces of bolts, phone chargers and the like) off the coffee table, so it flew on him, the floor, everywhere. I couldn't give a fuck. He tried pushing me down again to stop me from touching his stuff, so I did it again, throwing more of his shit- the shit that he had taking up my space. My home. And I threw it on the floor.
Now by this point the two dogs (one large and one small) had long since woken up and had started barking wildly. But when Ian lunged at me again, both of my dogs jumped in to my defense. That was when Ian turned his attacks toward them, especially the big one. His one. He tried to punch him in the ribs, but I got inbetween them-nobody touches my babies. I pushed him down, kicking, punching, clawing- whatever I could to keep him away from my dogs.
And then finally mum woke up, came out to find the mess. She told me to shut up. I turbed on her. Why wasn't she calling the cops?? She kept telling Ian for MONTHS she would if he laid a finger on me. So why wasn't she? I felt so betrayed and confused. But mum told me she would try calm him down. And that I should just take the dogs and go to my room. I felt like a fucking child again. Just be quiet. Go hide in your room.
But for the dogs' sake, I agreed to help calm them down. But not before my little one managed to nip Ian on the ankle. It was in this moment, I realised how pathetic he seemed. As soon as he got that little nip, not strong enough to even pierce the skin, he fell onto the couch literally wailing. I picked her up, and called off my boy, and went to my room in shock. That is what I spent years being afraid of? All that time I spent thinking he was the toughest person I knew, thinking he was practically indestructible, and he bursts into tears because my chicken nugget of a dog nipped his bloody ankle?! It was nothing other than pathetic.
Over the next hour he continued carrying on, now about his missing phone that he insisted I stole. (hint: I didn't)
Eventually mum went to her room to call the cops. And I heard the front door open and him leave.
The cops eventually came, long since he had left. And I knew I had to speak to them. I wasn't excited about it. I knew what was going to happen. I knew I would look like the bad guy here. The unreasonable one. And for another thing; I didn't trust the police as far as I could throw them.
So three cops come, two of which come inside. And they look confused. It was quiet since Ian had left, and mum had cleaned up all the mess trying to look for his phone. The place looked practically spotless. And I wasn't bleeding. I didn't look a mess. I wasn't sobbing or distraught. I was calm, annoyed at most.
They were so perplexed as I explained what happened. The main officer explained that he didn't even understand what had happened, what my mum had even called for. I told them I wanted him out of my life. I tried to tell them how he has always been.
"Well, have you reported any of his behaviour before?" The cop said. I knew he thought I was full of shit. I wanted to go in my room and sleep.
"No." mum and I answered. Was this guy serious?
"Well then what he's done in the past doesn't really matter." I was so over it by this point. The main cop went outside and left some dude who didn't seem to know what the hell he was doing to ask us the same questions we'd already answered.
I repeated myself multiple times. It wasn't until the third time of explaining what happened, I began to reenact my motions when I saw that my ps4 was gone. "Aaaand he's taken my bloody playstation." I said, completely dejected. My heart sank as it began to weigh on me. Red Dead 2 was in there too. Not only that, but all my trophies and game saves...everything. it might sound stupid to anyone else but playing games was one of my only true escapes. A distraction. And if I knew my brother- which I did- it would be long since destroyed now. The image of it splintered on some concrete was all I could think about now.
The main cop came back inside, and he informed me that the police would take an AVO out on my behalf. This basically meant that it would (in theory) prevent Ian from coming anywhere near me or my home. "What about my stolen playstation and game?" I asked.
And the cop smirked at me. I knew exactly what he was thinking. That I was just some stupid, young obsessed-with-technology millenial. "Yeah, that's nothing, we can deal with that later." He scoffed as if I was being unreasonable. It wasn't nothing to me.
So the police got their answers, and they just...left. I didn't have to go to the station or anything. It seemed so informal, unprofessional. That was it? How was I to know when the AVO was in effect? What were they gonna do about my stolen property?
This was three days ago. I have still heard nothing from the police. Not letter or anything. It is just a waiting game.
And it is this whole thing which has made me look into familial abuse. Why was I starting to feel guilty? Was I really to blame? Should I have just backed down like I used to?
I keep thinking about how differently that night would have gone had I been the person I used to be. Scared and upset. What if I had just said nothing, saved my game and turned it off and gone to bed? Well for one thing, I'd still have my ps4. But...the police wouldn't have been called. And Ian would have been here still, terrorising my mother and me.
I can't say if I would be more or less miserable than I am now. Maybe it would be the same. I'll never know.
But here's the thing that got me thinking about abuse, and when people ask why we don't fight back.
Of course everyone has their own reasons. Sometimes it's safer to do nothing. Sometimes you're just scared. Often you are conditioned into believing you are powerless, as I was for a long time.
But look at what happens when victims DO fight back. There are countless stories or victims- most of them women being abused by their partners or exes- who did all the right steps. They reported abuse and violence every single time, they got AVO's, and nothing fucking changed. Plenty of people moved out of state, and were followed.
And after years- when we finally had the courage to do something about it, my mother and I were simply dismissed. We weren't taken seriously. Nobody listened when I tried to explain the long, complex dynamic Ian and I have had.
But I am not seen as a victim in the eyes of others BECAUSE I fight back. Those who know me simply think my relationship with my brother is just tumultuous at best/worst. Even after explaining. I don't fit into the "victime image". I'm not a skinny, weak looking girl. I'm not beautifully weeping and I don't have a black eye when I turn up to work. I'm not the beautifully tragic image the media has conned the world into believing that is what an abuse victim looks like.
I look angry, violent even. I have messy, wild hair and gritted teeth. I am solid built and fairly muscular. The bruises I have only showed up the day after, and nobody knows how much physical pain I'm in. Being this sort of person has led people into viewing me as indestructible, strong. But it is all survival instincts.
And I am punished for it.
If I never fought back, nobody would have helped me. I learned that young. People like to pretend if they see something, they'll say something, yet when it happens, they say, "it's none of my business". I was a child, and had no help. So why should I expect it as an adult?
And because I did fight back, I am seen as equally guilty. An aggressor. Unstable. And yet again, nobody will help me.
THAT is why I never fought back. But now, I don't give a fuck. I am never going back to cowering again. I am done wasting tears over the actions of the men who wronged me. Even if it kills me, I will NEVER stop fighting back.
Tldr; people don't help victims regardless of whether they fight back against their abusers or not. There are plenty of reasons why victims would or wouldn't fight back and there is no right or wrong decision. Stop blamimg victims.
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Chapter 6
Title: Colors in Disguise
Pairing: Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan
Word count: 1000 words
Warning/Genre: eating disorder / food addiction / implied self harm / Anorexia /BED/ Binge Eating Disorder
Summary: Dan Howell has struggled with Binge Eating Disorder and food addiction his entire life but after he met Phil, he went into remission. After several years, Dan relapses and he slowly starts spiraling out of control yet again. Will he be able to get the help he needs, or will he fall victim to its vicious cycle?
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Dan had been keeping good on his promise to himself he hadn’t been eating as much and he had gotten a handle on his snacking in general. In fact, he didn’t eat much these days. He spent most of his time in bed sleeping. He hadn't posted a video in over three months and with the gaming channel on hiatus people were starting to notice his lack of content but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d occasionally tweet something to let everyone know he was still alive but other than that he was pretty silent on the internet. Phil had been a saint taking care of him and taking care of their business stuff, he’d taken on the full workload. He hated doing it to him but he couldn’t help it he was terrified of going out of control again like the weekend he had when Phil had left so he hardly eat but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about food. So to keep his mind off the food he slept. Sleep was the only thing that kept the thoughts away and the only thing recently.
It was one of those rare days he did manage to pull himself out of bed. He made his way to the lounge. Spotting Phil sitting on the sofa he decided to plop down next to him.
“Hi, love!” Phil said turning his attention away from his laptop. “It’s good to see you out of bed.” He said smiling brightly.
It hurt Dan's heart how happy Phil looked.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a little better.” he lied.
“That’s good!”
Phil look so genuinely relieved and happy Dan wonders how long he had been worried about him.
~~~
The next few days Dan tried his hardest to stay out of bed and act as normal as possible. He helped out around the flat cleaning up and they watched some animes together and all and all Dan did enjoy himself but that hungry in the back of his mind was still there.
Dan currently sat in his sofa crease browsing Tumblr on his laptop trying to ignore the constant rumbling of his stomach.
“Hey, I’m going out to meet Martyn and Cornelia for lunch,” Phil said walking into the lounge.
“Oh ok,” he said trying to hide the hurt of not being invited from his voice. But just seconds later his stomach gave a loud grumble and he was now thankful he hadn’t been invited.
“I’ll be home in a few hours alright love,” Phil said planting a kiss on his forehead.
“Alright,” he mumbled.
“Maybe we can have a movie night tonight when I get home?” Phil asked almost hopefully.
Dan perked up at the idea, “Yeah that sounds really nice.”
“Ok then while I’m gone can you answer some of the emails we have? They’ve been piling up and really need answering.“ Phil chuckled.
“Consider it done,” Dan said, with excitement in his voice.
“Alright love you,” Phil said before turning and leaving.
“Love you too,” Dan called after him.
~~~~
After Phil left Dan procrastinated doing what Phil had asked of him but how many emails could there be to answer anyway. So about an hour after Phil left he decided he should probably get to it but first he had to use the bathroom.
When he stood up he felt like he was going to be sick and he would have run for the bathroom if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt extremely dizzy and lightheaded as well. He rocked back and forth on his feet trying to regain his balance and wait for the room to stop spinning but that didn’t happen instead everything just went black.
~~~~~
“Phil, are you sure your alright?” Martyn asked him for probably the tenth time.
“I’m fine I’ve just haven’t been sleeping all that well.” he lied.
Well technically it wasn’t a lie, he hadn’t been sleeping well because he had been worried about Dan. Dan had been sleeping a lot recently and Phil worried he was going through a really bad rough spot. And he didn’t know how to help. The only thing he could do was keep working, so he continued to make videos made sure both their shops had merchandise and all their business stuff was up to date. But he hated to admit it but it had become quite a bit taking all that on himself. It seemed like all he ever did was work and worry about Dan the last few weeks and it was really taking a toll on him, which is why when Martyn had invited him out for lunch he had accepted almost instantly.
“Earth to Phil.”
Phil was snapped out of his thoughts as his brother waved a hand in front of his face.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
They continued their lunch avoiding the topic altogether.
~~~~~~
The flat was quit when Phil got home, he set his keys down on the counter and walked into the lounge. Dan was curled up on the sofa snoring softly. The sight would have been precious if Phil hadn’t been so concerned with him sleeping so much lately.
“Dan. Dan wake up.” Phil softly shook his shoulder.
“Wat?” he slurred still half asleep.
“You fell asleep on the sofa, come on let's get you to bed.”
Phil helped the younger man up and helped him walk to the bedroom. Phil stripped him of all his clothes except his boxers and put him to bed. He pulled the covers up to Dans chin and bent down giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek before walking out of the dark room.
~~~~~~~~
Dan woke a few hours later he rolled over trying to remember how he had gotten to bed in the first place. But his thoughts were interrupted by a hushed voice coming from the next room. Curious he tiptoed out of the room and down the hall the office where the voice was coming from. The door was shut but inside he could hear Phil talking in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Silence; he must be on the phone.
“Mum I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
Dan’s heart sank in his chest not staying to hear the rest of the conversation he turned around and left.
Once back in the bedroom he paced back and forth. This was it wasn't it Phil was going to finally leave him. After all these years he’d finally realized what a fuck up he was.
He threw on some clothes and grabbed his keys and left the flat not even stopping to tell Phil he was leaving.
Not even knowing where he was going he just walked he probably walked for hours because by the time he finally stopped it was pitch black outside and hardly anyone on the streets. He looked around; he had no idea where he was.
His he was so weak from hunger that he was surprised when his stomach rumbled,
“Oh fuck off, will you,” he mumbled to himself.
He shivered realizing now that he hadn’t grabbed a jacket before he’d left.
He looked around hoping to find a place he could go in and warm up at when he spotted this small 24-hour diner across the street. Just a coffee he promised himself crossing the street.
The bell chimed when he opened the door and nice older lady behind the counter motioned around and said, “Sit anywhere you like love.”
“Thanks,” he said as he chose a both close to the back of the restaurant.
The restaurant was deserted except for him so it didn’t take more than a minute for the women to come up to him with a menu, “Would you like to hear the specials?”
“No thank you, just coffee please.” he smiled.
He stomach growled embarrassingly loud.
“Are you sure there love?” she chuckled.
What the hell Phil was leaving him anyway. He took the menu from her and ordered the first thing he saw. A burger with a side of chips.
“I’ll be back out with your coffee.” she smiled and took his order back to the chef.
His hands shook with anticipation he hadn’t had any proper food in probably three days.
After about a fifteen minute wait for the waitresses brought over his food and set it down in front of him.
“If you need anything else just let me know dear,” she said walking off.
Dan was literally drooling it looked and smelled so delicious.
The first bit could be described as heavenly, the flow of the juices mixing together in his mouth and all the different flavors were absolutely divine. But after that first bite, he didn’t taste much of anything else as he scarfed down the rest of it in several big bits. Next were the chips, those were harder to eat all at once since there were many but somehow he managed. And before he knew what he was doing he had the waitress back over ordering more food.
He left the diner over two hours later in shame having consumed two more burgers and three pieces of pie all by himself. He had been absolutely horrified when he’d come out of his binge haze. Stuffed to the brim with plates spread out all around him on the table. Luckily the waitress hadn’t said anything to him, she’s made some joke that he must have been hungry but Dan had seen in her eyes that she had been disgusted with him. And who wouldn’t be, who eats that amount of food in one sitting its gross he thought to himself.
Dan was so ashamed and disgusted with himself he couldn’t face going home yet, besides he wasn’t sure if there was going to be anything to go home to. He started walking again slower this time because he was uncomfortably full when he came upon another little restaurant. It was like his brain was going crazy, he wasn’t physically hungry but he craved that feeling he felt when he eats. The way his brain would completely fog over forgetting about all his problems, just the pure happiness it made him feel. Without even second-guessing himself he went into the restaurant.
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Top Ten Tuesday 23 February 2021
Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:
Books That Made Me Laugh Out Loud
(Claire @ Book Lovers Pizza)
Rachel’s Holiday
Synopsis: Here’s Rachel Walsh, twenty-seven and the miserable owner of size 8 feet. She has regular congress with Luke Costello, a man who wears his leather trousers tight. And she’s fond – some might say too fond – of recreational drugs. Until she finds herself being frogmarched to the Cloisters – Dublin’s answer to the Betty Ford Clinic. She’s outraged. Surely she’s not thin enough to be an addict? Heartsick and Luke-sick, she seeks redemption in the shape of Chris, a Man with a Past. A man who might be more trouble than he’s worth.
Can You Keep a Secret?
Synopsis: Emma is like every girl in the world. She has a few little secrets.
Secrets from her mother:
1. I lost my virginity in the spare bedroom to Danny Nussbaum while Mum and Dad were downstairs watching Ben Hur.
…From her boyfriend:
2. I’m a size twelve. Not a size eight, like Connor thinks.
3. I’ve always thought Connor looks a bit like Ken. As in Barbie and Ken.
…From her colleagues:
4. When Artemis really annoys me, I feed her plant orange juice. (Which is pretty much every day)
5. It was me who jammed the copier that time. In fact, all the times.
…Secrets she wouldn’t share with anyone in the world:
6. My G string is hurting me.
7. I faked my Maths GCSE grade on my CV.
8. I have no idea what NATO stands for. Or even what it is…
…until she spills them all to a stranger on a plane. At least, she thought he was a stranger…
Get You Kit Off
Synopsis: Formerly Sex, Lies & Llamas From the author of the Number 1 bestseller – No Bra Required & Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? I’ve read Nikki’s previous books and loved them so I was expecting great things from her again. Guess what? She’s delivered!! The combination of humour, thrills and classic girl might- or might not-get her man is a real winner. If chick-lit is your thing Nikki is the author you need to read. Just brilliant!! – Amazon Reviewer WOW!! I loved this book. I have to be honest and say I put off reading it after I’d bought it, I loved the other 2 books by this author but football is not my thing and I thought the football theme running through it may have spoilt it for me … how wrong was I !! I can’t recommend this book or this author highly enough, I couldn’t put my Kindle down – can’t wait for more stuff from Nikki Ashton!!! – Amazon Reviewer Molly Pearson doesn’t have children, but as the Player Liaison Manager for a premiership football club, she does have twenty-two professional footballers and one jealous fiance to take care of – which as far as she can see is quite similar. With having to deal with problems from players buying zoo animals as pets, to losing their false teeth and a whole lot more, Molly can’t wait for the season to end. But, her life becomes even more complicated, when the man who broke her heart six years earlier, comes back into her life. Hail the returning hero, Joe Bennett, now one of the best footballers in the world and the club’s most expensive signing. Every woman wants him, every man wants to be him, and he’s returned for one reason only – he wants Molly back. With engaging characters, Sex, Lies & Llamas, is a humorous, yet sometimes sad romance depicting the difficulty in always doing the right thing, especially when love is involved.
Someone Else’s Fairytale
Synopsis: Jason Vanderholt, Hollywood’s hottest actor, falls head over heels for every girl, Chloe Winters, who hasn’t gotten around to watching most of his movies. It’s the ideal fairytale… for most people. The last thing Chloe needs is public attention. It brings back dangers from the past that she’s worked her whole life to escape.
The Single Girl’s To-Do List
Synopsis: Rachel Summers loves a to-do list:
• Boyfriend
• Flat
• Great job
NOT on the list:
• Being dumped
Best friends Emelie and Matthew ride to her rescue with an entirely new kind of list – The Single Girl’s To-Do List. Rachel doesn’t know it, but it will take her on all kinds of wild adventures – and get her in some romantic pickles too. And then it won’t be a case of what but who she decides to tick off…
• Mr. bendy yoga instructor
• Mr. teenage sweetheart
• Mr. persistent ex
• Mr. deeply unsuitable
The Single Girl’s To-Do List gives Rachel the perfect heartbreak cure – and proves love is out there if you’re willing to take a chance.
Wedding Tiers
Synopsis: The path of true love never runs smooth. But for some, it’s one seriously bumpy ride! A heartwarming new romantic comedy from the bestselling author of A WINTER’S TALE. Growing up in the beautiful Lancashire village of Neatslake, Josie Gray and her childhood sweetheart, Ben Richards, always dreamt of living a life of rural bliss. And when Josie inherits her beloved Grandmother’s cottage, it seems they might just have got what they wished for. Josie throws herself into her wedding cake business, whilst Ben gains increasing acclaim as an artist. But the tranquil village turns into a hive of activity when Josie’s childhood friend, Libby Martin – now a wealthy widow – returns to the village, planning a lavish wedding to rival any celeb bash. The day goes with a bang, and soon Libby and Josie are hard at work at their fledgling wedding business, hiring out Libby’s beautiful Elizabethan home for ceremonies, with Josie creating all manner of wonderful cakes. But amidst all this romance, Josie’s fairytale relationship with Ben turns into a nightmare, and she quickly becomes Love’s number one cynic – until charming wedding photographer Noah Sephton arrives in Neatslake with a very different outlook on love! Can this hopeless romantic persuade pessimistic Josie to give romance another try? Or will it be a case of always the cake maker, never the bride!? A charming, witty and feelgood novel, ideal for fans of Katie Fforde and Harriet Evans.
The Bette Davis Club
Synopsis: The morning of her niece’s wedding, Margo Just drinks a double martini and contemplates the many mistakes she’s made in her fifty-odd years of life. Spending three decades in love with a wonderful but unattainable man is pretty high up on her list of missteps, as is a long line of unsuccessful love affairs accompanied by a seemingly endless supply of delicious cocktails.
When the young bride flees—taking with her a family heirloom and leaving behind six hundred bewildered guests—her mother offers Margo fifty grand to retrieve her spoiled brat of a daughter and the invaluable property she stole. So, together with the bride’s jilted and justifiably crabby fiancé, Margo sets out in a borrowed 1955 red MG on a cross-country chase. Along the way, none of what she discovers will be quite what she expected. But it might be exactly what she’s been seeking all along.
From acclaimed humor writer Jane Lotter comes this madcap, laugh-out-loud adventure, The Bette Davis Club.
Revised edition: This edition of The Bette Davis Club includes editorial revisions.
13 Dates
Synopsis: When Noah Wilson first encounters the quirky, opinionated and very beautiful Angel Fallon, his world is turned upside down. It’s clear she’s not his normal type, but Noah can’t stop thinking about her—which doesn’t bode well for the blind date he’s already late for.
Convinced by his friend (and self-professed dating expert) Marlon that thirteen dates is all you need to fall in love, Noah decides to give it a try with Angel. They should be incompatible: she’s impulsive and he’s a planner; he wants to settle down and she doesn’t ‘do’ relationships—or anything, for that matter—the way Noah is used to. But there’s something about Angel, and Noah can’t shake the idea that all they need is twelve more dates.
Despite some near-disasters involving rock climbing, saddle sores and jellied eels, it seems his plan may actually work. But even if they do reach the magic number, can that really mean they’ll just fall into their happily-ever-after?
The Shelf
Synopsis: Everyone in Amy’s life seems to be getting married (or so Instagram tells her), and she feels like she’s falling behind.
So, when her boyfriend surprises her with a dream holiday to a mystery destination, she thinks this is it – he’s going to finally pop the Big Question. But the dream turns into a nightmare when she finds herself on the set of a Big Brother-style reality television show, The Shelf.
Along with five other women, Amy is dumped live on TV and must compete in a series of humiliating and obnoxious tasks in the hope of being crowned ‘The Keeper’. Will Amy’s time on the show make her realise there are worse things in life than being left on the shelf?
A funny, feminist and all-too-relatable novel about our obsession with coupling up, settling down and the battle we all have with accepting ourselves, The Shelf introduces the freshest new voice in women’s fiction.
The Wish List
Synopsis: Be careful what you wish for…
Florence Fairfax isn’t lonely. She loves her job at the little bookshop in Chelsea and her cat, Marmalade, keeps her company at night. But everything changes when her stepsister, Mia, announces that she’s engaged to her boring golf-playing boyfriend. That’s when Florence meets Irish love coach, Gwendolyn.
…because you just might get it!
When Gwendolyn makes Florence write a wish list describing her perfect man, Florence refuses to take it seriously. Finding someone who likes cats, doesn’t wear pointy shoes and can overlook her ‘counting habit’? Impossible! Until, later that week, a handsome blond man asks for help in the bookshop…
But is Rory the one, or is he simply too good to be true? Florence is about to find out that her criteria for finding Mr Right aren’t as important as she thought – and that perhaps her perfect man has been right there all along…
Until next week.
#JustForFun, #Top Ten Tuesday, #TopTenTuesday, #TTT
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Breaking a Promise
Part Two - Don’t be Shy
Summary: Dean is gone. But the reader is determined to step up and find him, even if it means breaking her promise. She revisits her old hometown, haunted by memories of the past.
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, OFC Jenny, OFC Harper
Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, character death, angst, themes of addiction, a small breeze of fluff in the background.
Word Count: 3100 roughly (oops)
A/N: Thank you so much to the peeps who left wonderful feedback on part one! I’m kinda scared and feel under pressure now lol Sorry this took such a long time coming, been a bit of a failure lately. I am DETERMINED to finish what I started here. I hope you enjoy the angsty ride. Thanks to @sofreddie for being a wonderful, supportive and amazing friend while I ranted about this one <3 THIS IS UNBETAD SO APOLOGIES IF IT SUCKS AND IS FULL OF TYPOS
Feedback will keep the writing coming!
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~ Series and forever tags are open! ~
(Italics are flashbacks)
It wasn't a long drive to where you were headed, about forty minutes. To you however, it felt like the longest forty minutes of your life. You'd vowed to never return here, always sitting out of the cases Sam or Dean had picked up in this place. It was cowardly, but they always understood, Dean would give you a sympathetic smile and a wink when they headed out. Sam would give you a hug, and they would both promise to make it as short and sweet as possible. They always kept that promise, ensuring to head straight back to the bunker when they were done, even if it was during the early hours of the morning.
Dean would always come back to you. Always.
You feel your eye twitch at that thought and a pang of pain sharply attack your guts. Shaking it off you turn your attention back to the road, driving the practically antique car that you'd loaned from the Men of Letters garage. You lean forward and press play on the cassette player.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“Whoa Black Betty!” Dean barked along with the music from the driver's seat of the Impala.
“Bam-a-lam!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, tapping along with the beat on the dash.
“She really gets me high!” he turned to you with that knee trembling trademark smirk and wink.
“Bam-a-lam!” you continue with a giggle.
“You know that's no lie!”
“Bam-a-lam!”
“She's so rock steady! She's always ready!”
You were a fit of giggles now, blushing at the adorable jerk before you. To your surprise, he quickly leant over, planting a deep kiss as his lips collided with yours.
“Dean!” you squealed when he released you and you noticed the car drifting into the wrong lane.
“I got it, I got it,” he chuckled, swinging the car back into the correct position.
“Keep your eyes on the damn road,” you playfully tapped his arm whilst shaking your head. The huge grin on your face somewhat diminishing the authority of your demand.
Dean continued his chuckling, turning the volume dial on the stereo up so the music blared even louder.
“Whoa! Black Betty!”
“Bam-a-lam!”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
You were trying so hard to be optimistic. Thinking back to the good times to keep your spirits up. Imagining a happy reunion at the end of all this. You will find him, he will be fine and he will understand why you are doing... this.
You pass the dreaded, graffitied to hell 'Welcome to Town' sign and a familiar knot forms in your stomach. As much as you'd tried to avoid this place by sitting out on hunts and what not, every now and then you and the boys have to pass through here while heading somewhere else. You'd see this sign and quickly turn to another activity, like scrolling on your phone, reading your book or sometimes just straight up closing your eyes and focusing on Dean's Metallica album.
You take a sharp breath and roll your shoulders, you had gotten this far so you weren't backing out now. You feel your heart racing as more familiar sights come into view. Your old school. The park your parents took you to when you were a kid. The diner you worked weekends at before...everything.
With a deep sigh, you pull into the diner's car park. Your hands were trembling with nerves. You hoped this place still did those awesome milkshakes you would partake in when you were feeling down.
The door to the diner still has that annoying high pitched squeak, even after all these years. The furnishings hadn't changed either. Paying for your shake, you sit yourself down in a booth in the far corner and watch out the window, twirling your straw through your thick dairy treat.
Mum and Dad's old house wasn't far from here. You missed your parents so much, but they really were a distant memory compared to your life now. An intoxicated truck driver stole them from you on a cliché foggy night. He lost his own life too. You were the only person left alive after the accident. Alone. No other family. Left to couch surf friend's sofas when the house got repossessed. Working a dead end weekend job in the diner and taking all the extra shifts you possibly could. Eventually, this allowed you to just scrape enough to rent a dingy little apartment on the other side of town. You were in such a dark and lonely place in your mind back then, shutting out everyone around you despite their efforts to help. You were depressed. Broke. Angry. Didn't see the point in continuing.
Then there was Jenny. A hypnotising friendly face you couldn't shove away. She worked at the Diner too back then. She could do things. She would mesmerise you with little tricks she performed for your entertainment. Dumb little things like levitating ketchup bottles and the like. She told you she could do more, and you could do it too if you wanted to learn.
Your new hobby was born. Every Sunday after work you and Jenny would lock up and head to her sister's house.
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“Tonight's going to be so great,” Jenny beamed, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to a waiting customer at the counter.
“The last ‘four’ Sundays have been great,” you smiled as you started to create a fresh pot, “What's so special about tonight?”
“My sister ‘loves’ you,” Jenny continued excitedly, before leaning towards your ear and changing to hushed tones, “We don't normally initiate people until they've been accepted as a part of the coven after a couple of months. But Harper thinks you've got something. Natural talent we've never seen before, so you've been bumped up the list!”
“Um...thanks?” you chuckle nervously, “I didn't know there was an initiation. Should I be worried?”
“It's a little intense I'll admit,” she suddenly came across serious, “But you're up for it right? We love you. We don't want to lose you.”
“Uuuh,” you are taken aback by that statement, “S-sure. I'm not going anywhere.”
“Awesome!”
Jenny skipped around the diner with glee for the last couple of hours of your shift. You wondered what was going to unfold later that night.
From what you'd seen the last few weekends, these meetings were just a bunch of women reading out of spell books and giggling at little tricks. It had blown your mind seeing real magic first hand. You found it ridiculously easy too. You’d managed to light a candle with nothing but a swish of your hand and thin air the first time you tried. A small twinge of anxiousness poked away in your guts.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Your fist slams the table automatically, causing a few odd looks from nearby patrons. You hated this town. You hated it for the happy memories which made you grieve your family. You hated it for the horrible memories of being on your own after their deaths. Most of all, you hated it for reminding you of how dumb and naïve you once were. Sure, you were ignorant of what was out there back then. You didn't know what magic really was or about the darkness that coincides with it. The vile people who wield it and use it to control and intimidate. People like Harper.
You force yourself to remember why you were taking this damned trip through nostalgia Hell. It was to get what you needed and to gank that fucking bitch. Then to find Dean. You had to get through this to get him.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“Will you swear an oath to your fellow sisters Y/N?” Harper's voice flowed dreamily almost like she was singing.
You raised an eyebrow, “Um...”
“Do you swear to abide by our magical laws, to serve, to live, to breath everything that is our coven. To join our family. To become a sister of the blood,” Harper extended her hands out to you.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Gritting your teeth, you endure your mind replaying these scenes. Remembering this was the moment your anxiety won and you tried to bumble your way out of it. You shudder at the thought of your own voice weakly mumbling back then “Um... I think to need to think a bit more about this, I'm sorry.” You clench your fists at the thought of Jenny's heartbroken face when you turned to walk away. Your heart stops at the recollection of Harper's power. With a swift flick of the wrist, she had you flying back through the air towards her like you were magnetized. You rub your neck at the memory of her nails digging into your skin when she held you there by the throat. Then she...she…
You wipe the cold sweat from your forehead, noting your heart was thudding much faster. The chatter of people around became a dull buzz of white noise. Just thinking about the stuff, after all this time, it still made you go nuts.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“Harper!” Jenny squealed from the side in horror, “What are you doing!?”
“She's too good,” the witch mumbled, brushing a stray hair from your face as you struggled helplessly while you choked, “I must see what happens.”
She brought up a vial full of red liquid. You started to panic, kicking wildly with your feet and trying to pull back with all your strength. It was useless, Harper's hold on you was too powerful.
Forcing your mouth open, she emptied the vial's contents down your throat.
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Another slam on the table. More awkward looks shot your way as you rise to your feet and hastily charge out of the diner back to your car. You drive, foot to the floor on the gas pedal. You knew Harper was still at that damned house of hers. She was cocky like that and knew you'd be too terrified to come back anytime soon. Her study would still be intact... the cabinet full of it behind her desk…
You honed in on the house automatically without thought and now sat outside with a heart trying to bust through your ribcage.
This was the first time you'd ever come back. The first time since that day.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“Hey, Y/N?” Jenny whispered, lifting your slumped body up to a sitting position on the floor. She would always come to check on you every night, “Can you hear me?”
“Jenny...” you mumbled, struggling to open your bruised and battered eyes. Everything still sore and throbbing from your latest beating. Harper didn't approve when you showed signs of rebellion in your 'training sessions'.
“I'm so sorry...” Jenny had tears in her eyes, “If I'd have known about all this, I would never have brought you here.”
“Not your fault...”
“It is, I forced you into all of this. I swear to you, Harper has never been like this before!”
You could just make out your friend in the little light in your cell. Her usual bubbly brightness had been replaced with fear and nerves. Her beautiful blonde curls turned ragged and messy.
“I'm getting you out of here,” she continued with a nod, like she was confirming this to herself, “I'm getting 'us' out of here. She's gone too far...too damn far.”
You grip your friend’s hand as her body began to shake with fear.
“Jenny...we can't. It's too dangerous,” you squeeze her hand tightly, “And 'I'm' too dangerous.”
“I met two guys,” Jenny ignored you as she undid your iron shackles and pulled you up to your feet, “They came in the diner. Hunters, but good guys. They're gonna help us.”
“Hunters?”
“Shhh...” Jenny hushed as you slowly made your way through the house, “They're watching over the house right now. We just need to get out, then they'll come in and...do the rest.”
As you reached the sitting room back at the front of the house, a voice came from behind you.
“What the hell are you doing?”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
You find your pistol in your bag, checking it was loaded with Witch killing bullets. With a deep breath, you step out. Blood pumping as you marched to the front door. No messing around, you give one hard kick. Doesn't budge. Another slam, nothing. A loud roar escapes your lips as you kick again, smashing through.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
You are both flung across the room with force, crashing into the walls with a hard smack. You groan as it feels like some bones shatter.
The Witch that had found you both began shouting and raising the alarm. You couldn't have that. Her shouting ceased as you summoned up the energy to raise a free hand and point it towards her. She begins to choke, hands frantically grasping her throat in panic. Harper's incantation twirling through your mind like a record stuck on repeat. It wasn’t enough though. It had been too long since your last fix and your spell was far weaker from normal.
“Y/N!” Jenny's screamed, alerting you. Three more Witches entered the room. One of them grabbed Jenny and tore her away back down the corridor. The others made a beeline for you.
The front door crashed open, two men colliding through. One of them tall with a serious face and emerald green eyes, the other taller with long brown hair. They had guns aimed and ready. They began shooting.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
As you crashed through the door, you were met by three women instantly in the familiar old sitting room. You didn't recognise them. Seems Harper has been recruiting over the years. They look startled at your pistol, but they don't run or scream. They were more scared of you than the pistol in your hand, you could see it in their eyes. Harper had educated them on who you were.
“Where is she?” you grunt threateningly.
They don't answer, but respond with movement. Raising there hands the three of them started to chant different spells. You cut them all off with swift bullets to the head. One by one. Dean had taught you well on how to shoot a gun.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Bang. Bang. Bang. The shorter of the two men ended the three Witches present. You gasped as you watched their bodies drop to the ground with a thud. The taller one approached you and guided you to your feet.
“Y/N right?” he asks.
You nodded, breathing shakily.
“I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean,” he explained quickly, “We're getting you out of here.”
“Get her out Sammy,” Dean ordered, “I'll go after Jenny.”
“Jenny...” you mumbled under your breath, shaking out of Sam's grasp and stumbling back towards the corridor, “Jenny!!”
Without pause, you storm through the door off the sitting room and into the corridor that lead to the back of the house.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“Harper!!?” you bellow, storming down the back corridor.
More Witches appear through the multitude of doors leading off the long hall. You end them swiftly. Stopping only to reload. She'd be in her study.
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“Harper!!?” you screeched, finding the woman in her study. She had Jenny, holding her like a human shield with an arm wrapped around her neck and shoulders, “Let Jenny go!”
Sam and Dean crashed through the door behind you.
“Jenny!” Sam barked at the sight, pointing his gun.
“Y/N get back...” Dean reached to grab your arm, instead to be hit by one of Harper's spells. He and his brother were thrown back into the walls and held there by her power.
The Witch cackled at the presentation before her. With a wink, she took out a vial of red fluid and rolled it across the table to you.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
You barge through the study doors, ready to start pulling the trigger. But it's empty. Keeping the gun raised, you cautiously take further steps in, occasionally looking back over your shoulder. You see the cabinet, a primal feeling of want gripping at your heart. You can physically feel your body's hunger accelerate at the knowledge you were so close to what it wanted. What it needed. What you'd deprived it for so long.
Clutching at your chest, you are drawn over there. You suddenly find yourself holding one of the small bottles from inside. Cupping it with both hands, you stared, not remembering when it was you laid your gun down on the desk.
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“Y/N don't!” Jenny cried as you picked up the small glass container and stared at the contents with heaving breaths, “Y/N! Put it down!! This is what she wants!”
“Listen to your friend,” Dean's voice came from behind you whilst your hands shook uncontrollably.
“You don't need that,” Sam's voice followed, “No matter how much you feel like you do, you don't!”
You hesitated. Your jaw trembled as you froze with the bottle in your hand. You wanted it so badly, but feared it at the same.
“WEAK!” Harper shrieked impatiently. She shoved Jenny in your direction. Before you had the time to even reach ouch and catch your friend, with a click of Harper's finger, her necked snapped.
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“No...” you gasp, clutching the bottle to your chest to take it out of eyesight. You shake your head, stumbling back slightly as your heart thuds erratically. Jenny... If you hadn't hesitated you could have saved her.
A sudden voice cuts through the air. For a moment, it felt like past and present imitated each other. You blink rapidly at the sight before you, seeing both momentary events meld into one.
“C'mon now pet,” Harper grinned eagerly, “Don't be shy.”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
You watched Jenny's lifeless body crash to the ground at your feet. Harper's words striking a rage within you. A monster, and it wanted to get free.
You open the vial and hungrily intake it's entire contents.
“Y/N, NO!” Sam shouted desperately.
Dean's head dropped to his shoulders in defeat. He feared what was about to come next.
You take in the rush. A surge of energy ran through your entire body. It built, becoming painful, everything honed in on your brain which felt like it was about to burst.
With a shrill scream, you thrust your arm forwards, forcing all the energy accumulated in your head into the one spell. It was like an explosion. Your eyes illuminated a vibrant purple and a wave of matching colour fired from you. You were so focused on the spell, it was like everything else moved in slow motion. You willed the spell with all your might but it wasn't quick enough.
With an inspired smile and a wink, Harper turned and vanished in a millisecond. The spell crashing through the place she stood mere moments after her. The blast was powerful, cutting through the wall behind like butter.
“NO!!” you screamed, running the hole you created and smashing your hand on what was left of the wall.
You sobbed, unsure whether through anger or pain. You didn’t notice the two hunters drop to the floor with a thud behind you. They tentatively approached while you were distracted in your outburst. You felt your arms grabbed and cold iron click to your wrists.
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Hello. Welcome.
I thought it would make sense for my first post to be a ‘get to know me’ sorta thing. I’m going to try and be as honest as possible with everything I say. I don’t want in anyway to make my life look better then it is or try to big up certain things. This is just me.
I mean there isn’t too much to say but here goes.
My names Evie. I’m a 22 year old and a Leo.
I currently live with my mum but will soon be living with my boyfriend in Norwich. I’m super excited to be able to create my own space. There will be plants everywhere!
I graduated in Graphic Communication about 2 years ago (those 2 years have gone by so fast).
I currently work as a Freelance designer, Etsy seller and dog sitter!
My favourite drink is Pepsi Max (I’m addicted)
I could eat fruit and oats all day. I want some now.
I am very spiritual. Every morning when I wake up I pick 3 lesson cards (kinda like tarot cards but not so scary). They help give me guidance for that day. I also manifest on every new moon and try to write down everything I am feeling and thinking in my journal.
In my spare time I enjoy photography (I love taking pictures with my disposable camera), going to botanical gardens and doodling - one of the reasons I decided to start this blog.
I’m vegan. I have been pescetarianism for years but only made the switch to becoming vegan at the beginning of 2018. I thought not being able to eat cream eggs would be really difficult. But it’s fine! I feel a lot healthier and in general feel a lot better about myself and who I am.
I have two Etsy shop. (Link at the top of the page, check them out…) I opened my first shop almost one year ago! The styles are both very different. One is watercolour and the other vectors. And then here we have, doodles…
Anyway, that’s me! I’m going to try and put a new post up every week. Follow me on Instagram so you can stay up to date with when I post. See you soon!
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- Introductions -
Hello! ☆
I’m Aysha ^^. I thought, for my first post, it would be a good idea to introduce myself to this lovely community and share the above picture of a small lonely cloud friend as an offering. I’ve been following the studyblr/langblr community for a couple years now and I’ve found it to be a great source of much needed motivation. So now, here I am, hoping you all accept me as one of your own. 🙏🏽
Just to get some basic formalities out of the way, here’s a bit about me:
I’m 18, born in the cold winters of February ’99.
I live in the north of England (almost Scotland, let’s be real).
I’m in my first year of university and I study psychology.
Also, disclaimer: my handwriting sucks.
I think I’d like to work towards becoming a clinical psychologist.
Perhaps even specialise in addiction, who knows?
Either way, it’s going to be a long road as far as I can tell, and I think it’d be cool to document and share it in this way. I’ll try to include all the ups and downs and the mundane in-betweens. I also might eventually adopt a cat, so there’s a thing to look forward to * fingers crossed *.
Hobbies & Interests:
Languages! I love languages. To simplify things, some languages that float through my head with varying degrees of fluency include: Bengali, Korean, Arabic and a bit of Hindi.
Reading, my favourite pastime.
Being a plant mum.
All the teas.
Some Small Personal Goals for the Rest of this Semester:
My driving test is coming up, so I’m hoping I pass the first time around.
I’d like to volunteer at a mental health related organisation.
Do my best on my assignments.
Meditate more often.
Make progress with Korean especially.
Make more plant friends.
🍀 🍀 🍀
And, I guess that’s it from me. Feel free to send me an ask or a message 🌷. Like/reblog if you’d like, so I can follow you – I’d love to make some new studyblr friends ( ^_^ )人(^O^). I hope you’re all having a lovely day and I wish you well in all your endeavours╰(*´︶`*)╯♡.
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Alright, we sold the house.
This is a post about that house.
Last time I was in that house was on the day of my grandma’s funeral and I remember my mum kept having to go back to pack her stuff and pack out and bring stuff home and she kept having to sleep there because taking the bus there and back on several consecutive days was just a waste of money and I still don’t know how she did it, I couldn’t have.
I said this back when we talked about what would become of that house and I said the house wasn’t the house because of the house, it was the house because of my grandma. And it’s true, it just didn’t feel the same without her but I guess that’s the same with most things that belong together.
I have very old memories of that house. I remember playing there as a really small, tiny kid, with my cousin, my uncle’s son, who for some reason said he’s going to marry me (I don’t think either of us knew what marrying meant, we were like four). I remember the dog, Pepi, the chicken in the back of the yard. I remember these two (then three) neighbour girls I became friends with through the fence, how I kept hanging out with them despite being much older and going over to their place to hang out and they would literally cling onto my waist and I’d carry them around and they were my “holsters”.
For a really long time I had no real idea of just how big the backyard was. It was basically a vineyard and there was this big tree and some junk in the back. I never really played there much, there was this weird bush with some weird fruit on it my mum loves, I think my mum called it gooseberry but I remember small black fruit. Anyway. I stole something when I was in elementary school and I buried it there then I dug it up and broke it with a stone so there would be no evidence left #genius
My grandma was a hairdresser all her life, and she had a salon behind the house. I just picture the door opening and hearing the chatter inside, of old ladies, of the hairdryer, the water flowing in the sink. The smell of hair products, my grandma standing with her hand pressed against her aching back, holding her tools in her other, her hair up in a bun. There were all these old ladies there...
On the mirror was a piece of paper of her prices and I remember I wrote it on our computer in our old house and I remember our ő (or one of the accented letters) was broken at the time (I think I spilled juice on the keyboard) so I left a space where it was supposed to be that letter and she handwrote those. Now I got mad that I don’t remember which letter it was. Maybe á? There was a lot of that latter on there. Now I’m... really angry... I don’t remember. I spent so much time looking at it and I can’t remember.
I loved it when she washed my hair though she was kind of harsh, and it wasn’t very comfortable under my neck but I liked the warmth of the water. I had my hair dyed blonde there in 2012 for the first time, the bleach stung so much. It also took me a long time to find out the salon had a bigger back area with the boiler and so much old crap she horded over the years.
I remember wanting my hair done all the time but not wanting to sit in those chairs for ages. I loved playing with the curlers, put them on my fingers, pretend I had curlers as fingers. There was so much stuff there...
There was a mosquito net door on everything because my grandma was allergic to bees. There was one on the entrance of the house too but there was a square cut in it so we could reach in and unlock this lock... thing... that was on it. The inside door, the real door was barely closed during summers which is when we were there most of the time. I don’t think we ever met my grandma inside the kitchen when we visited her, she always came outside to greet us, that’s where we hugged and kissed, and she would already be cooking something inside, listening to the radio, always the same channel, some old Hungarian thing with classical music and weird religious programmes. I always thought she smelled like a dentist, I don’t know where I got that from, it’s not true.
I was barely in the pantry but there was always so much food there. That’s where I found out you can keep the bread in the fridge. I never liked any of the fruit juices she brought or made. Sorry.
One of the bathrooms opened from the kitchen as well with this huge ass boiler but I remember bathing in that room only once or twice. It was exciting, I don’t know why. The toilet had this flusher that was weird, you had to kind of hold it and wait for a specific noise to let go otherwise it didn’t flush properly.
The kitchen table was close to the door to the living room and a chair always stood in the way, that was usually my place during meals. One time my grandma had this cat, Mici(?), and she kept playing with our feet under the table. My mum hates cats so she didn’t like it but I loved it. When she died my grandma kept luring cats to the yard. She would cuss them out for being so needy but I think she liked having cats to talk to.
The two rooms were otherwise separated by an ENORMOUS ceiling-high tiled stove. My grandma was always very skinny so she got very cold all the time, the air was BOILING HOT during winters.
In the living room where my grandma slept was where the Christmas tree would be set up. The door to the real living room that was this really cold, tiled ~middle room always covered the TV if it was open but when the stove was on she always wanted that door open so the warmth would spread to the whole house. That was the only TV in the house and I remember always wanting to wake up early on the weekends so I could watch the morning cartoons. So often I fell asleep again while watching them. For some reason I remember watching Hungarian talent shows there. And the 2008 Olympics opening ceremony. There weren’t too manny channels on it so we only gathered together there if there was a good movie going otherwise it would just be her and my mum watching telly.
That middle room thing wasn’t exciting. There was a huge dining table there but I remember eating there only once or twice when something fancy happened or when my grandma had guests over? Very rarely. She kept her plants there because it was a cold room but it had a huge window wall so the plants would get a lot of sunlight.
My keyboard was set up there sometimes. God we used to haul my keyboard over there holy shit...
One door from there led to the second toilet that was just a small cubicle with one toilet. For a huge chunk of time it didn’t work properly so if we wanted to go in the middle of the night we had to go through the living room, where my grandma was sleeping, and sneak past her without waking her up, then go potty in the kitchen bathroom. She would close the door then so she could see the TV and that door was NOISY. For the longest time this ashtray stand kept the door slightly ajar but it was made of metal and the ashtray was removable so when you had to move it it required a special set of skills to not make any noise with it, holy shit, I felt like a ninja every time.
When the second toilet got fixed I went there to write my diary in the middle of the night for some reason. There were a LOT of spiders there.
There was a second bathroom there. The stupidest thing but I can’t remember if I liked that bathroom or not. The sink and the mirror were behind the door and the boiler was above the bathtub and I was always so scared it would fall on me. I don’t remember taking baths there I usually showered. There was a colour-changing toothbrush there. And a small space next to the bathroom, I was once playing hide-and-seek with the neighbour girls and I remember crouching there and putting a towel on myself and I pretended to be a pile of clothes, they didn’t actually find me, I shit you not :D
There was this bedroom opening from the ~middle room that we never used. It was a guest room but my grandma usually kept composts there and aspic cause since nobody used that room it didn’t require heating. Fucking aspic addicts both her and my mum. That’s so weird, why would anybody like aspic, it’s jelly soup, ew.
There was another bedroom opening from there, a smaller one with just one bed. That also had a TV now that I think about it. My mum slept there once my sister became too sensitive to her snoring but I also remember sleeping there sometimes. The neighbour girls were always trying to wake me up in the mornings by calling through the window so I would come play with them. It was endearing until I grew up.
The last bedroom was the one where we slept in, quite a big one with one bed and another couch-thing-bed where my sister and I slept. There used to be no divide between them and I could just sprawl across my sister but then my grandma rearranged them (I still don’t know how that worked) and there was this wooden divide between them to my sister’s biggest joy and to my biggest disappointment x) I still found a way though. I think there used to be a telly in there but it either never worked or she took it out of there quickly. I’m positive there used to be a telly there.
A perfect place for the floor is lava ngl.
Then once we had laptops I remember spending so much time there... just hanging out and stuff. I remember getting to know so much music there, and just this feeling of freedom and not having to School and Life. My bag used to go right next to the bed in the corner and it was like my little kingdom, nobody could go there, I did whatever I wanted with my little corner, especially hide chocolate and candy there. We all had our own armchairs and everything had its place, whenever we arrived we’d just automatically settle in, like home. I remember when I once slept in the proper bed, I took my stuffed lion lazy, who has a hand-hole in it for puppet reasons, and I put a bunch of clementines inside her and snuck them inside the bedroom and ate them while pretending to be asleep. I don’t know why but it felt like an important mission.
There was some embroidery of a naked woman in that room, I still don’t know why. Also a very pretty drawing my grandma made of a classy woman and her classy hairdo. She was a really good drawer. Once I had my “better phone” that still wasn’t a smart phone there was this drawing app on it and she could draw well even on that.
Anyway, even though the house is on some small street in the butt outskirts of the town whenever the garbage truck came it was loud as fuck. I loved it, for some reason.
I used to have this habit of praying before falling asleep there. No idea why, I just remember praying there.
Outside the house but still in the yard was a pavement, and in the cement is a handprint that belongs to my uncle when he was a little boy. My grandma made this artificial pond out of a huge basin in her front garden. I was always scared of the frogs that would be there but the lilies were very pretty. Her garden was always very pretty, she slaved away in that garden, it was always beautiful. I remember a peach tree but not much else. I don’t think there was a cherry tree.
Outside on the street, I remember this one winter the road was really slippery and we just kept sliding up and down. I love that street. Whenever we would arrive from a night out we’d look at the sky and my sister would like, take note of all the stars and constellations and we would see the huge floodlights from downtown clubs reaching up to the clouds. They stopped one year, maybe they closed that one specific place that did this, I don’t know.
The walk back home from downtown was Long. Especially with a full belly, sometimes I would get so nauseated. I remember in 2008 when the Olympics happened my sister and my mum narrated my rush back home before I threw up like I was one of the Hungarian swimming champions, it was really cool.
Because everything in town was so far, leaving the house was serious business. Even when we just went to the store (and I usually didn’t, it was my mum and my grandma’s morning routine, the daily pilgrimage to the store) if you left something at home it stayed there. And because it was so far we didn’t leave for anything that was shorter than the walk there and back.
I hated the walk but counting the perpendicular streets was fun. Jánoskert, Petőfi (with the ice cream place, we always stopped for an ice cream on the way there), Gárdonyi (apparently there was a playground there and I remember going there once but maybe I imagined it), Báthori, Dobó, and a long walk to the main street there. There was a bookstore close to the main street and I always imagined I would once buy it and make my own store... I don’t remember what I was going to sell but it was going to be nice.
Then the another smaller street with the cabs... then crossing the train tracks, past the train station... good god...
Luckily there was always a lot of things to do in town. Once we got there this main square with the fountain was full of people and stores and vendors, it was so much fun even though we never bought too much stuff because we weren’t exactly tourists. I would always daydream about having infinite money and buying everything though.
There was this arcade we used to go to when I was little, playing fighting games and riding a jetski, it was really cool. I think we stopped being able to afford it when I got bigger. There was this small cinema too that I was always really excited to go to though it never really had that many movies. It was just the one room, the one building with one movie at a time. It was open air too and right beside the train tracks so from time to time the movie would be drowned out by trains passing by. We watched Mamma Mia there.
I discovered a birthmark behind my ear during that movie and I thought it was cancer.
Don’t ask why I remember that.
There was this place there called Nádas, very popular though slightly out of sight, you had to go behind another store to get there, we Loved going there. I think not one summer passed when we didn’t go there. I always got the same thing, most of the time. When we were smaller there used to be these like, these things you could sit on, put in some coins and you could ride like a unicorn or something. That was the shit. I loved that place... god we spent so much time there.
Going further down the road was where the Wine Week would be organised every year. It was cool when it happened when we were there, it meant MORE VENDORS AND MORE SHIT WE COULDN’T BUY. Also sometimes there would be performers on this huge area to the right of the road.
I don’t remember the last time we got to go to the beach. The weather wasn’t always right, my grandma wasn’t always in the best shape and we didn’t spend that much time there anymore especially after she got difficult. But I loved the beach. There was this huge tree in the middle that most people were aiming for so back in the days we used to set out really early to get a spot there. I don’t quite remember the shore right now... but I remember the slides that I went down on once. We even went to the not-free beach once, I went down the slide there. There was this spinny changing room there. It didn’t have a door it was just a spiral so if you went around enough you were inside and nobody could see in or out. That was fun.
I listened to a lot of music there. Ironically, Nobody’s Listening by Linkin Park comes to mind but... there was a Lot of music there. We ate a LOT of corn too. And ice creams... we tried not to go potty there but sometimes we had to and I hated going cause the floor of the bathrooms were muddy from the wet sand...
We used to watch the August 20th fireworks there. We used to be so close I’d have to duck for fear they would fall on my head. Then we never went that far anymore for fireworks alone and we no longer stayed for one or two weeks.
We used to walk back home then both my grandma and my mum got older so we usually took the cab but most of the cabbies knew my grandma so we got cheaper fares. Once when we walked home my mum and I had to pee so much we actually went in a park. It was dark, don’t worry... I also almost threw up next to the kindergarten. Then my stomach hurt so much my mum thought my appendix burst but it didn’t.
I used to be so sad when we had to leave. It’s a little bitter feeling but once it got difficult to spend more time with my grandma it got easier to leave so maybe it’s lucky that happened so the change isn’t that huge. But it still hurts.
Because we no longer belong there.
I’m going to miss that house.
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stale coffee
here i am, 7:07 pm. drinking stale, cold coffee and listening to the japanese house. i just moved into a new place, it smells like pot and is kind of messy. the rug under the dining table always has its corners curved up, and the couch always looks like someone was just sitting in it. it's turquoise though, and the plant my sister bought sits nicely by the window. it's a peaceful little house, i like it, but it's only temporary.
who knows where i'll be in six months.
i'm currently addicted to vaping. it feels like doing a line of coke. i can't be separated from it. it's like having a rabbit's foot. always clinging to you, maybe for luck.
my heart has been rushing a lot these days. i wouldn't be able to handle a relationship. i'm so easily startled, yet also quickened to get extremely bored, both very quickly. the way he would look at me. the way he would make love to me. the silence we shared.
i can't imagine someone sitting here with me. i'm supposed to be alone right now.
i have this ring on my ring finger. it used to be my mum's. i wear it to remind myself to stay true to who i am. but what does that truly mean? when you have nothing your running from, nothing keeping you from being who you are, then that sentiment holds no value. i think i wear it for good luck, knowing mum would want me to have this ring. so i don't take it off.
as a 27 year old woman, who lost 10 years of her life, (with some good moments in between; like sitting on the porch smoking cigarettes in the rain, kyla, dom, mike's swimming pool) i am trying to find my place in this world. i am trying to think of who i want to be. do i want to be a musician? do i want to be a christian? do i want to become a counselor, therapist, to women who have faced trauma like i have?
why not do all these things?
it's when. it's time. it takes time, and it is also time, to live out my dreams.
what i'm learning is to be tough. set your mind ABOVE the water. while swimming, do not get carried away by the current. gently swim, keeping your head above water. you hear this a million times. life isn't gentle. there are choppy waves. there are things that give us anxiety and fear. there are things we think we can't conquer. you hear this a million times.
finished the stale coffee. reminds me of diner coffee, just cold.
i am fixated on something, something on the tip of my tongue. almost like something i missing, yet i feel strangely fulfilled at the same time. it's a combination that just leads to more silence, more questioning, like why can't i stop listening to the same bands over and over again, or i really wish i wasn't alone right now. the music is like a friend, always telling me the same story, but i understand the story differently each time.
staring at my closet. i can feel my ptsd rising. as if it's sitting in there, waiting to come out, waiting to jump and bite me. as i look at my finger tips, picking at the nails, it feels like a white shadow of fear and shame blanketing itself over my head. i get up. open the closet. the demon has been freed.
my room isn't set up at all yet. i only have $700 in my bank account and i literally cannot spend a dime on anything other than gas or food. trying on the food part. working in a grocery store definitely makes that hard. whole foods is so good, it's very tempting. there i feel a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose. but anyway, my walls are blue and bare (a nice eggshell blue if you may) and all of my paintings are sitting by the wall, my clothes hanging out of a suitcase, my meds next to the flowers, in plain sight.
a lamp sits on my fishman loudbox.
i stacked two amps on top of one another, with two baroque paintings sitting on top.
my room makes me feel like an unfinished product. it needs to be complete. i need to be complete. i need arms around me forever. i will always need arms.
i used to turn my back away from love. now i can't find it anywhere.
i'm triggered. all of a sudden.
i'm thinking about god.
i don't think i want to be a disciple, but i still want god in my life, if that makes sense. i don't enjoy reading the word as much as i thought i would. the idea of opening my bible gives me a sense of anxiety. i don't want to do it. but somehow that's unpleasing in god's eyes, and that makes me feel afraid that if i don't read i'll be missing out on something fantastic. something breath taking. i'm torn. if i read, i'm good. if i don't, i'm not good. and that's a scary thing. god is huge. when i close him off, i lose light. i become darker. or at least that's what i'm projecting into the future. thank god there is church tomorrow. maybe tonight is just a passing faze. maybe i'll read tomorrow. or the next day. is my life truly this dependent on scripture? sara says it should be. but it scares me. this is when, said susanna, it gets good.
it feels like something is peering in through my windows. through my closet. through these little open holes inside my soul. and it doesn't feel good. it feels like a longing for connection, it feels like something that knows me, and is trying to tell me something. but i can't hear it and i can't see it and it's like a nosebleed that won't stop. why do i always have to be having a hard time?
it's like i'm constantly staring at my reflection in the mirror.
and what do i see?
i see a beautiful, blonde, spirit, who is trying.
i'm trying.
i'm breathing and i'm trying and i'm here and i'm trying not to feel disconnected. trying not to feel disappointed. in myself. in life. in this room. right now all i have is this and i'm trying not to tip over. i need a glass of wine and a cigarette.
here we all are. clinging to life. some of us aren't like this. some of us cruise cooly into the next moment; moment by moment, happy or high or enlightened, happily and joyously swimming in these waters. but then there are people like me, who are deeply fascinated, deeply brooding, deeply emotional and deeply confused or hurt or coming out of trauma. "the world is your oyster, m'dear" my dad would always say to me, on the other end of a phone call from the hospital. and he's right. it's right there, outside my window, waiting for me to drive these streets, becoming whoever i'm supposed to be: a christian, a musician, a painter, a traveler. a wife, a counselor, a strong voice for women who have been traumatized like me.
i guess we'll wait and see.
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wacko story time
i’ve never properly told all my shit in 1 shot. it’s very hard to keep track when you suddenly remember more and more details and the story side tracks way way too much. i will try to keep it as on track as possible. i will also do this in narrative form. one of the therapist said that it is a way to relive it and stay sane.
also this is more for myself than anything so there will be spelling errors and poor sentence structure and bad punctuation so skip this eyesore of a pity party lmao
but if u actly read it pls dm me so i can kno your thoughts it will help me alot thx
Where do i begin?
I used to know this girl. Terribly shy. Terribly insecure. Even at a young age. All she ever wanted was attention from her family. Both her parents worked long hours, so she and her twin sister were under the care of their grandparents.
It was trying being a twin. Perhaps that was where the attention seeking began. They had to share everything. Clothes, shoes, books, a room, attention, birthdays, school, friends. Everything. Normally it would have a novelty. A norm. Children do not know any better.
The difference in their upbringing was their grandparents. Don’t get me wrong; they had an incredibly privileged life. Home-cooked meals 3 times a day. Toys, books, clothes, a roof over their head. Prestigious education. Loving parents. They were undeniably sheltered. No abuse, no neglect, no suffering.
A perfect life. A perfect upbringing. But not so perfect in hindsight.
Their grandparents, especially their grandmother, was very stern and undeniably manipulative. All their actions and words worked in the undercurrent of their psyche. Reaching and pulling and stretching. Planting doubt, fear, mistrust in each other. They liked to compare the twins. They liked to turn them against each other. Was it out of a misplaced affection? Was it out of simplistic glee at seeing two powerless beings getting confused, like how one would play the magic blanket game with their pets? Or was it born of something more toxic?
In time the girls will learn that their grandmother has a massive inferiority complex and narcissistic tendencies. In current times, it has changed her into a hypochondriac.
But back when they were just 5 years of age, they didn’t know better. They didn’t understand that adults can be wrong. That adults can lie. That adults can be mean. Manipulative. Toxic.
They didn’t know any better. So they trusted. She trusted and believed everything her grandmother told her.
You were adopted, taken from the rubbish bin
Your temper is so bad, why would your parents want you?
They have your perfect sister.
That is why you are twins. To be replaceable
You are the bad twin.
Your sister got a punishment because of you.
You are the one that always gets her into trouble
You have to watch or diet or you will grow fat
You shouldn’t bathe in hot water or your skin will have wrinkles
When we die, you are going to be very happy right? Because there will be so many sweets (Chinese funeral style)
We don’t know when we are going to die and you are always so rude.
You will regret this
Study harder or your parents won’t love you
You are not doing as well as your sister, your parents won’t love you
If you don’t listen to me, your parents won’t love you
She grew up with massive abandonment issues. And a constant nagging thought of being better. Doing better. Or she will be left behind. Alone. Unloved. Unwanted. Back to the trash where her grandmother told her she was from
Adults don’t lie right? Children do not know any better.
And a handful of incidents proved that inkling in her head - that she was unloved. Unwanted.
When she was 8, she threw and tantrum and got punished by standing in a corner. To retaliate, to seek attention, she scratched her face multiple times. Her father and grandmother saw the aftermath and asked her what happened. To her surprise, she had managed to calm down, by hurting herself, and calmly told them that she cried too much. They relented and relieved her of her punishment. This was her first instance of self harm. And it took root as a viable coping mechanism.
When she was 10, she lost a table tennis game and threw her temper at her mother in public. She screamed and yelled when all she wanted was for someone to hold her, sit her down and ask her what was wrong. Why did she care so much over a stupid game? All she wanted was understanding. But she did not know how to articulate. She was consumed with fear and shame over losing. She handled it by screaming. Shouting. rage as a mask
And then her father slapped her, for the first and last time in her life. She was shocked into silence. That was the first time she actively disassociated. She hadn’t named Claire yet but someone else took over and shut down all her feelings.
The slap scared her. The blackout became rooted deep in her psyche. Even till now, more than a decade later, a man slamming the desk, her husband punching the wall, ignites a knee-jerk reaction to cower. To run. To hide. To self soothe. To let Claire take over
Its ok its ok its ok its ok you have me. Its ok its ok its ok its ok. I’m here for you. And no one else is. Listen to me. Believe me. You have me. only me. I will look after you.
Adults are human too, she knows that now. But what is that to a sensitive, insecure, introverted child?
What is that to a girl who was brought up, loved in all senses, but being constantly told that she wasn’t?
She internalised it all. Struggled with it by herself. She didn’t understand what had gone wrong. What she had done wrong. She became scared to talk about her feelings. Angry with herself for being ungrateful, as she has been told. Upset for not understanding why she hated herself more and more and more.
And when she was 13, she finally turned to self harm by cutting.
It was a relief to see the blood. The scars. To see the aftermath of her self-punishment. Tangible results of the mess in her head. The chaos within laid bare on their thighs, her wrists, her arms. She never liked the pain but she felt like she deserved it. When she drew her lines, the pain in her heart diminished. But her self hatred grew.
She hated the attention she got from it. She hated the fact that she was drawing attention. She was failing at keeping this simple thing under wraps. she was angry at her self for drawing attention
so, she stopped. Not because she saw that it was wrong, but because too many people knew and it became burdensome to see the pity, the uncertainty. The horror, the helplessness. The babying. It was never what she wanted. It was all forms of love, but deep in her self hatred, she just wanted to be left alone.
And so everyone thought she was stable and just as she was left alone again, she turned to ED for a coping mechanism.
It was easy. It was simple. Girls diet all the time. No one suspects. Not back then, at least.
Both her and her twin have always dieted. Even at 7, 8, 9, 10 years old. What else do you do when your grandmother is breathing down your neck telling you to watch your diet?
Anorexia was a hideous, painful journey. More than she bargained for. She did not know the puddle she thought she was wading in was actually a soul-sucking black hole that very few emerge out of. She did not know how deeply ingrained the ED thoughts would envelope her mind like a parasite, surfacing in times of weakness and uncertainty. She did not know that this coping mechanism would become an addiction for years and years to come.
From scars to numbers. One hyper fixation after another.
And all this, because of her biggest insecurity - abandonment.
She had to be perfect. All the time. Or she would be left behind.
By who? Whom? What? How? Why?
She lost track of it all. All she knew was chasing down self punishment in times of imperfection and that very same self punishment became a drug for her masochistic mind.
She lost track of the friends who stood by her. Of her family that still loves her. Of her mum that visited her everyday in the hospital. Of the teachers who took personal time to visit her, talk to her, counsel her.
Her black hole of self punishment was consuming her.
And yet, no one gave up on her. And in moments of clarity she saw that and did her best to fight back. It took another 3 years before she got out but she did.
And this is where you cue a happy ending.
She still had abandonment issues but they were dissipating. She still had massive trust issues but she was actively trying to combat them. Things were looking up. And in all that time spent in her head, she came to peace with her other self. The one that encourages ED and self harm to take away the emotional pain. For a while, her 2 selves came to an understanding that anxiety and embarrassment and pain is a part of life. She also realised what she wanted to do with her life. She grew so much, from the girl she once was.
That was until her cousin screwed it all up by loving her
more than he should have
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The 50 best jokes from Edinburgh Fringe 2019's shows – and how to watch them all live – iNews
Culture
As the festival enters its final days, we round up the funniest gags on offer this year
Friday, 23rd August 2019, 09:28 am
Updated Friday, 6th September 2019, 16:32 pm
John Luke Roberts: I remember what my grandmother said to me on her deathbed. She said: ‘I wish I’d bought a normal bed.’ (Photo: Natasha Pszenicki)
I remember what my grandmother said to me on her deathbed. She said: ‘I wish I’d bought a normal bed.’ John Luke Roberts, Assembly Studio Two, 5.30pm
I went for my driving test the other day and the instructor said, ‘you’re in the wrong gear’. I said, ‘Why? What’s wrong with this tuxedo?’Nick Helm Pleasance Dome, 5.40pm; read i’s review of the show here
The best thing about being disabled is nobody ever wants you to babysit. In case you drop them. And recruit them. Rosie Jones, Pleasance Courtyard, 7pm
Do you reckon the band Chic ever found any takers for that free cow they were always trying to get rid of?Joz Norris, Heroes at the Hive, 4.40pm
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What do I want played at my funeral? Rugby.Goodbear, Pleasance Dome, 9.40pm
True crime documentaries are the only time the entertainment industry will take a chance on an unknown female lead. Jena Friedman, Assembly George Square Studios, 9.20pm
My teacher told me to make a vacuum – I thought, no pressure then.Leo Kearse Gilded Balloon, 9.15pm
Rosie Jones: ‘The best thing about being disabled is nobody ever wants you to babysit. In case you drop them. And recruit them’
In his job my dad’s never lost a case. That makes him Gatwick’s top baggage handler.Glenn Moore, Pleasance Courtyard, 4pm
I find it hard to believe Melania Trump had a body double for public appearances. It would definitely be for the private stuff. Laura Lexx, Gilded Balloon, 5.15pm
My mate came second in a Winston Churchill lookalike competition. He was close, but no cigar. Goose, Assembly George Square, 5.20pm
My mother doesn’t like the word vagina, so she calls it a ‘Lulu’ which was very confusing when I met my cousin Lulu, who coincidentally is a c***.Janine Harouni, Pleasance Courtyard, 5.45pm; read i’s review of the show here
Do I enjoy randomly appointing people to judicial positions? I’ll let you be the judge of that.Ivo Graham, Pleasance Courtyard, 7pm; read i’s review of the show here
I didn’t have sex at university for religious reasons. God hates me.Phil Wang Pleasance Courtyard, 8pm; read i’s review of the show here
Tiff Stevenson: ‘Jeremy Hunt has said he would lower abortion limit to 12 weeks. That’s funny because I’d raise it to whatever age Jeremy Hunt is’ (Photo: Steve Ullathorne)
My grandad died on April Fool’s Day. Every year for 10 years. Rhys James, Pleasance Courtyard, 6.30pm
I’m pleased to be getting a beer belly, I’ve always wanted a father figureCam Spence, Pleasance Courtyard, 4:30pm
I love Lorraine Kelly. I’m a big fan of her earlier work – the stuff she does before quarter to nine.Martha McBrier, Laughing Horse @ The Counting House, 7.15pm
Jeremy Hunt has said he would lower abortion limit to 12 weeks. That’s funny because I’d raise it to whatever age Jeremy Hunt is.Tiffany Stevenson, Monkey Barrel, 9.15pm
A cowboy asked me if I could help him round up 18 cows. I said, ‘Yes, of course, that’s 20 cows’.Jake Lambert, Pleasance Courtyard, 8.15pm
My new boyfriend told me he’s got my face as his wallpaper, which I thought was cute until I saw his lounge.Steff Todd, Just the Tonic @ The Caves, 2pm
As a Russian, I admire Jeremy Corbyn – he’s tough. The KGB could interrogate him for a week and still not find out what his position on Brexit is.Konstantin Kisin, Gilded Ballon, 7pm
Ivo Graham’s sixth show at the Edinburgh Fringe is about becoming a dad
I fully support the school strikers on climate change. I’m just annoyed that they didn’t call it the minors’ strike.Matt Winning, Pleasance Courtyard, 4.25pm
When applying for a job as an estate agent, the interviewer worried that my CV was a bit small. I said ‘actually it’s really cosy’ and I was immediately hired.Alex Kealy, Just the Tonic at the Caves, 6.40pm
Did you know the word ‘Ikea’ is actually made up of two Swedish words? “Ika”, meaning “Sunday”, and “Keya”, meaning “f***ing ruined.”The Scummy Mummies, Assembly Rooms, 7.50pm
I won Jewish comedian of the year, my mum was judging, then again, she always does.Joe Bor, Laughing Horse @ The Lockup, Cowgate, 3.45pm
Some people think being working class is a negative thing but I think there’s loads of benefits. I’ve claimed them all.Kelly Convey, Pleasance Courtyard, 7.15pm
I got invited to a gender reveal party – when you invite all your friends over to find out the gender of your child and release pink balloons if it’s a girl or blue balloons if it’s going to earn more.Robin Morgan, The Pear Tree, 4.05pm
They say some people ‘inhale books’. I know someone who injects books right into his veins. Particularly ones with female protagonists. He’s a heroine addict.Izzy Mant, Underbelly Bristo Square, 2.50pm
Adam Hess: ‘It must be annoying for clocks that from their perspective their hands are moving anti-clockwise’ (Photo: Matt Crockett)
I know that Banksy’s my dad, because I never see him.Flo & Joan, Assembly George Square Gardens, 6pm
I tell my friends I’m here for them 24/7 because it sounds better than saying I’m only here for them on the 24th of July.Andy Field, Just the Tonic, 2.10pm
It must be annoying for clocks that from their perspective their hands are moving anti-clockwise.Adam Hess, Pleasance Courtyard, 7.15pm
With enough revs and determination any restaurant is a drive-thru. Tom Taylor, Pleasance Courtyard, 6pm
My name is Sukh, which is short for Sukhjeet, which is Sanskrit for you’re never going to find it on a fucking keyring in a gift shop.Sukh Ojla, Gilded Balloon, 5:15pm
I haven’t looked up the definition of hyperbole in, like, forever.Caitlin Cook, Just the Tonic at the Grassmarket Centre, 5.50pm
British people are like coconuts. Hard on the outside but sweet once you crack us. Also often found full of alcohol and holding an umbrella.Milo McCabe, Underbelly, 5.30pm
Catherine Bohart: ‘I suppose lesbian sex is a bit like cricket, in that it goes on forever and there’s a lot of men watching it at home, alone, on the internet’
I’m making a TV series about the different parts of my gas cooker – I’ve already filmed the pilot.Olaf Falafel, Laughing Horse @ The Pear Tree, 2.50pm
I’m pretty sure Jesus is Gay because every time I go to God’s house he’s got pictures of him on the wall with 12 hot guys having brunch.James Barr, Underbelly, 5.20pm
I suppose lesbian sex is a bit like cricket, in that it goes on forever and there’s a lot of men watching it at home, alone, on the internet. Catherine Bohart, Pleasance Courtyard, 6pm
I look the wrong way when crossing the road, so people think I just got back from Paris.Joe Sutherland, Banshee Labyrinth, 10:10pm
My dad is like a black James Bond: it’d be great to see him, but he’s unlikely to make an appearance.Alexander Fox, Pleasance Courtyard, 6pm
In Poirot you meet six really posh people, and you know one of them is going to be murdered. In real life, you rarely get such good odds.Alasdair Beckett-King, Pleasance Dome, 6.50pm
In my show we won’t be using things like a Ouija Board. Or if you don’t speak French – a Yesja board.SÉAYONCÉ, Assembly George Square, 10.20pm
Ahir Shah: ‘The Arab Spring was 8 years ago. I thought “How long can a crisis conceivably last?”, and then I looked at my own personal life and was like “Yeah, that makes sense”’
My girlfriend and I are saving up for a mortgage, but it isn’t going very well – because sadly, all of our grandparents are still alive. Matt Richardson, Just the Tonic at The Tron, 9pm
Devon, the county of the UK where you put the cream on the scone before voting Leave.Ivo Graham, Pleasance Courtyard, 7pm
I was living in my office for a while, until it failed its MOT.Jim Campbell, Just the Tonic at the Caves, 5.20pm
Scotland heckled Boris Johnson so badly he had to leave by the back door, like one of his mistresses.Grace Campbell, Gilded Balloon, 3.15pm; read i’s review here
I like to watch Love Your Garden when I have my tea and then True Crime before bed. I feel really confident about being able to bury a body and know what to plant on top of it.Lucy Beaumont, Pleasance Courtyard, 4.45pm
Me and my partner were going to go on holiday to Norway this year but we costed it up and in the end we couldn’t af-fjord it. Tom Parry, Pleasance Courtyard, 6pm
The Arab Spring was 8 years ago. I thought “How long can a crisis conceivably last?”, and then I looked at my own personal life and was like “Yeah, that makes sense.”Ahir Shah, Monkey Barrel, 1.45pm
Behind every successful man is me, trying to get his attention.Lou Sanders, Monkey Barrel, 3.15pm; read i’s review of the show here
I find it quite ironic that erectile dysfunction is on the rise.Rob Auton, Assembly George Square, 2.50pm
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Bài viết The 50 best jokes from Edinburgh Fringe 2019's shows – and how to watch them all live – iNews đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.
from Funface https://funface.net/best-jokes/the-50-best-jokes-from-edinburgh-fringe-2019s-shows-and-how-to-watch-them-all-live-inews-2/
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October 2018
Being so busy that I can hardly keep up with these lists anymore.
A fat, fluffy red cat keeping up with a running girl on the other side of the fence.
Working with clay.
Applying for an international education programme in Canada.
The evening at Oktoberfest with my colleagues. Dancing in front of Hexenschaukel as usual, right before going home.
An incredibly soft, bright red pencil. Japanese brush pens from Arket. Drawing. I never know that I miss it until I start scribbling again.
Spending the evening with Manu, Martin and Indian food. Playing SingStar. Laughing way more than we should about a set of 400 Chuck Norris jokes. Falling asleep with my head resting on Manu's shoulder. A weird half-conscious flashback, different places and childhood memories accompanied by calm, happy piano music.
Rosie Leizrowice: „When I find myself overwhelmed or in a stressful situation, I try to imagine myself from above, then pan backwards until I see the whole street, the city, the county, the country, Europe, this blue planet — then let it fade into darkness (this is also a meditation technique.) It works every time. Because once you visualise yourself as an insignificant speck, you realise how inconsequential just about everything is. And although that can be paralysing, it can also be liberating.”
Jonah Hill's role as the Icelander Snorri in episode 9 of Maniac's first season. But Emma Stone as a drunk elf is hilarious as well!
The fact that Google Maps now shows Earth as an actual globe. Makes exploring feel much more real!
A visit from Bibi on a Sunday evening. Looking for mushrooms in the forest, walking over the fields, petting a cat, visiting Tom at work. Perfect against Sunday blues.
KARAOKE!! Especially performing Tenacious D's Fuck Her Gently on stage with Manu.
Spending a lot of time with Doris during the preparations for the school anniversary. We're on really good terms at the moment. / Climbing onto the school's roof with Mr L. so we could apply the banner from above. Great view. / Founding a choir.
Going to bed on a Friday afternoon after the anniversary party. Finally I didn't have to stress anymore and spent the whole weekend in bed (because I got sick, yeehaa).
Meeting Franzi for drinks at Gärtnerplatz. She's going to be a mum next year, at the same time as Meghan Markle! I'm happy for her.
Satin headbands (hello, Blair Waldorf!) / dainty gold rings / huge, soft scarves / matte nail polish, still / dyke couture (lumberjack shirt)
Attending a workshop on English literature where a director from Residenztheater's youth department showed us how to teach Hamlet to our students. I had a lot of fun with the different kinds of games and acting in our own scenes. My favourite part was playing Hamlet's thoughts. Yep, that's a role, too.
Singing along to songs from Once More With Feeling, the best Buffy episode ever made. Finding out that Manu knows most of the lyrics by heart was fantastic, I didn't know that episode had more than one die-hard fan (=me).
Jumping on the trampolines at Maxx Arena with my class. Beating everyone at American Gladiator (boxing them off the beam into the foam cubes). Jumping down from a trapeze. Scary and my muscles were very sore the next day but it was a lot of fun.
Benedict Wells' reading his own short stories in Munich. He still has a very Southern German rolling r-sound going on. Charming!
My brother gave me Michael Greger's book How Not to Die and even though I started out very sceptic it gave me the last push I needed to go back to vegetarianism / semi-veganism. I'm probably not going to stop eating a little bit of yoghurt and cheese any time soon but meat, fish and eggs absolutely have to go. Yuck. I always have unsweetened almond milk at home - the perfect substitute for milk. And I love apple slices and a few almonds as a sweet snack.
Kurt Vile's Jesus Fever live in concert. Drifting off during the show, thinking about possible outcomes of my trip to Scotland. Meeting Ralf! / Related: Kurt Vile in conversation.
Realising that I can actually spend up to a third of a year travelling. Apparently the universe knew better then me when it created all those coincidences that made me become a teacher.
Doing sun salutations at home. Just because I had some extra energy that Friday evening.
Reading English magazine articles out loud to myself, in a posh voice. Feeling like a literary ASMR-tist.
Especially reading something about Australia which often seems like a forgotten country to me - that is the reason why stories about Australia, for example The Sunburnt Country in Believer Magazine, sometimes take on a fairytale-like character for me.
This is 18 - through photographs girls show what it is like to turn 18 in the year 2018.
I'm grateful for people who let me join their family occasionally. It's always both strange and nice since I'm not used to a family dynamic at all. Especially experiencing the presence of a father is so unfamiliar for me. Markus let me harvest honey with his parents in the summer and Manu asked his father to teach us woodcarving at his workshop. We ended up staying with his family until very late, drinking liqueur and playing board games.
Marzipan and buttered soft pretzels. Geez, I'm addicted.
Waking up from a very real nightmare in which I suddenly had a cat and a baby who I both neglected. Scary.
Colouring (IKEA's 'city overrun by monsters' drawing sheet).
Crystal encrusted hoop earrings from &otherstories.
A Star Is Born - this movie made me fall in love with Bradley Cooper AND Lady Gaga. Also, I'm obsessed with the song Shallow and the red leather boots Ally is wearing on the motorcycle.
Compliments from my art students - they compared my respect level to that of our principal. Woah.
Going to Scotland for the first time! Things I liked in no particular order: staying at Erika and Brendon's apartment - she is a lovely Bolivian and he is a co-author of the Rough Guide to Scotland; he told me about his favourite book by Sebald, a German author, and urged me to read it / Gatuso, the fluffiest cat / early mornings in the empty backyard, watching Gatuso strolling through the sunshine, seeing the white frost on the plants / Waitrose supermarkets / the Scottish accent / doing a walking tour with Stefanie, she was quite entertaining / trying 16-year-old smokey Scotch whiskey / going out with Rasmus and his friends, drinking at Banshee Labyrinth (the most haunted pub in Scotland apparently), admiring the costumes at the gay bar / a free impro comedy show on a lazy Sunday / old libraries / Banoffee Pie at Stockbridge Market / Greyfriar's kirkyard - the most beautiful graveyard with a very nostalgic, gothic atmosphere; maybe because you can see the grey buildings of the old town surrounding it and because of all the spooky stories / speaking of stories: there is so much folklore... about Maggie Dickson, Greyfriar's Bobby, the places that inspired the Harry Potter novels. Love it. / Blackwell's bookstore / my tour through the Highlands - gorgeous weather and autumn colours, such a spectacular landscape / rainbows over Edinburgh / My magic brings Voldemort to the yard and damn right it's hurting my scar / The old town, the quirky old-timey store fronts, the dark walls, architecture, little alleys. / the entrance hall of the National Scottish Portrait Gallery //
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