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#if it didn't fit her textbook definition of whatever she was thinking at the time
sherlock-is-ace · 16 days
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#oh wow...#i just had an oh shit fuck moment#wow#i usually complain about the one therapist i had in my entire life and how she wouldn't just listen to what i was saying#if it didn't fit her textbook definition of whatever she was thinking at the time#and how i talked to her about my anxiety and how that made me feel and she would only focus on how i acted#so the example i gave her was the one time i went into a shop to buy something by myself#because my mom didn't want to go in for me and arguing with my mom in front of the shop in public and then inevitably have to#go in myself either way was way worse to me#because of the embarrassement of arguing in public. the fact that my mom was gonna spend the entire walk home telling me how i have to#''just suck it up and learn and just overcome my anxiety because i don't have a problem'' or whatever#and then having to go into the shop where the lady had been watching me from inside the entire time how i clearly didn't want to go in#and possibly be even more awkward with teary eyes because of the anxiety and awkwardness i already bring to the table any day...#all of those things that were going inside my head were trumped by the fact that i did go in and did buy what i needed#although my heart was coming out of my chest the entire time... all that didn't matter to my therapist because in her words:#''if you had anxiety. you simply wouldn't have gone in''#which is ridiculous#but anyways... i just had an epiphany... that was masking wasn't it?#forcing myself to do something that brings me major discomfort to make my mother and the shop lady not judge me?#pretend i'm a normal human being just doing normal things instead of someone who's about to have a heart attack buying embroidery thread?#panicking the entire time because i wasn't prepeared and hadn't scripted the entire transaction in my head?#yet still going in and putting on my ''normal person'' mask to try to seem like i wasn't just dying seconds ago (and still was)?#isn't that literally what masking is?!#and the ''autism specialist'' ass therapist was like ''if you did it then you don't have a problem''#when i'm literally telling her how much of a problem it actually WAS?!#you know what's the best part about all this#that when i told my mom after i left that therapist that she didn't listen to me because [insert everything above]#my mom's response was ''well sometimes therapist will say things that you don't want to hear but you have to accept them''....#same woman who's always saying how much she hates therapists because they ''will say whatever and pretend they know shit''#ok so it's only The Truth when I tell you it isn't...
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What Can and Cannot Return
In a quiet moment shared while Pavo is healing Ardea’s combat injuries, the two share a nervous exchange about Ardea’s loss of her Celestrian powers in the face of the fact that Pavo still retains hers. (1091 words)
tag list: @thatslikesometaldude | @garchompp | @beeon | @tex-treasures | @catake | @tartaglialovemail | @catcao | @vilehusband | @dragonsmooch | @childrenofmeyneth | @lilacslovers | @blackbirdcrime | @kalliopi-ships | @strawberryshipz (to be tagged in what I make, please click here!)
Here is my piece for the twenty-sixth day of sapphic September - I was originally going to portray the scene as a render using MMD, but the models just were not cooperating nicely, so I spat out this little bit of writing instead. I hope it's still alright, even if it may or may not have been slightly rushed, haha!~
Comments on and reblogs of my work are always okay, and appreciated, but are by no means required! If the link to the document doesn't work properly, then there is also a transcript of it under the readmore.
“..Do you mean it, when you say it does not faze you?”
It was a quiet and peaceful night as the two young women sat next to the flickering campfire. Although the party had been too tired from fighting to travel any further that day, the faint glow of torches - and with them, people - could be seen on the edge of the horizon; they would be able to properly rest in an inn soon, but for the moment, they had to make do in the open air for another night. A short distance away from the pair, a girl with bright teal hair was curled up in sleep with her extravagant dress blanketing her in a thousand colours, while a much taller individual was resting with their back to a tree stump, and even now their spear and knife still lay within easy reach.
The question was not an accusatory one, instead settling quietly into the scene, but it still made the blonde-haired girl look away and out into the darkness for a moment. She was dressed in the textbook attire of a martial artist, with a red and gold top emblazoned with the logo of a dragon over a fitted black shirt and slick slacks. Her hands were wrapped with black fabric, and the kite’s claws they usually carried were tucked away safely in her equipment bag. Her left arm was raised and in the grasp of the other girl, whose short white hair fell over her face slightly as a glow of teal magic emanated from her palms.
“What do you mean by that?” asked the martial artist, whose gaze had now flickered back to her partner.
“I believe you know what I refer to, Ardea.” she replied, still focusing on healing the wound on Ardea’s arm. It was not a serious injury, and even now was healing rapidly thanks to her spells, but it was nevertheless something that required attention. “The fact that we once shared the same abilities, and now, you have lost what you once wielded as second nature.”
“Mmm..” was all that Ardea said in response, glancing over to check that the other two were definitely asleep before continuing. “Well, it’s true that it was difficult to adapt to at the beginning, but.. We’ve come quite far now, haven’t we? So I’ve had time to adjust to the situation.”
This brought a smile to Pavo’s face, but there was still a sense of unease in her expression. “So, it is not true that you are.. jealous of me, or- anything of the sort?”
“What?” At this, Ardea turned around with a start, causing Pavo to lose hold of her arm. “Ah- My apologies!”
“Do not worry - I had already dealt with your injuries.”
“Ah, yes, I realise that now.. Thank you kindly..” Ardea muttered, moving her now woundless arm without difficulty. Then she returned to the matter at hand. “But, Pavo, whatever do you mean?”
The Celestrian looked away at this, and her wings instinctively curled closer to her body in a large sheet of white feathers. “It is just that.. You have lost the ability to use any of the magic of Celestrians, as well as both your wings and your halo, and the boons that they bestow upon you. When we happened across the carriage of the Starflight Express in that forest, it did not even react to your presence at first. Thankfully, the benevolessence we have acquired by you offering our assistance to those in peril has restored that final aspect, but.. not any of your other abilities."
She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, then continued before Ardea could interject.
"As for myself, on the other hand.. Though the long time I have spent upon the Protectorate has weakened my connection to the Observatory, and rendered my presence visible to mortals, all other characteristics that Celestrians bear, I have retained. The story we tell that I am a mortal sage appears satisfactory to explain my powers, at least to our adventuring companions-” - she glanced over at the sleeping pair upon saying this - “-it nevertheless does not change the fact that I wield my powers on a regular basis in combat, as I have always done since my teacher imparted these skills to me, while you have had to take on an entirely unfamiliar vocation in order to maintain appearances. So, at times, I have feared that you having to witness me freely use the selfsame powers you once shared, yet no longer can use, would perhaps be unfair.."
An expression of surprise mixed with confusion clouded Ardea’s face. "Pavo, I- I don't understand.. How long have you felt this way?"
"..It was not a recent fear." she admitted.
"Oh, in the name of the Almighty-“ In one movement, Ardea had shifted her position and launched herself with considerable vigour into the unsuspecting arms of her girlfriend. Pavo’s brief sounds of uncertainly were quickly dulled, and she instinctively clung to Ardea in return.
“Angel, listen to me for a moment, please. That is not at all how I feel, and it never has been, either - if anything, seeing you use your Celestrian abilities is part of what motivates me to find a way to get mine back. Besides, I haven't lost everything - my reflexes and agility are still leagues above those of the mortals, regardless of not having wings anymore. Isn't that right?"
"..Yes, I suppose that is very true."
"And, anyway," she continued, "I still think of myself as a Celestrian, because I am. That's what I have always been, and that will never change, regardless of what happens to me. The same is true for you, too - even after we ascend to the Realm of the Almighty, we will still be Celestrians, no matter what becomes of us. And we will still be together, too, no matter what becomes of us. Does that help?"
"Ah, that.. That does bring some relief, I admit." She turned to face the campfire with a soft and grateful smile. "Thank you, Ardea, my love. I truly appreciate your words.."
"It's never a problem, angel. I'm just sorry I didn't realise you felt that way, so I could help sort things out earlier on."
"Please, do not worry. I apologise for not confiding in you before now." she replied.
"There's no need to worry about that now, Pavo. Come on, let's get some rest."
And as the moon shone overhead, the pair settled comfortably into each other's embrace to rest by the fire.
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kayzume · 3 years
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Pairing: Bokuto x Reader
Genre: a tiny, tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff:>
wc: 4.1k, who knew i can pull of something this long😃
Note: This fic is my gift to @jayeray for our server secret santa, Happy Holidays to you I hope you had a great Christmas and I hope we get to talk more (timezone is sht, I must be asleep when yer online🥲)I hope this piece makes you smile:>. Also sorry for shamelessly asking three people to beta this bec im not sure about how it turned out, also bec my grammar is sht(T ^ T)—also lemme thank the internet by helping me with them vows, only edited some parts of it to fit the story better..
Beta: @thirstyforthem2dmen , @india-katsuki , @prismaintales kithes to all of u
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Life is filled with fluttering moments, these events mark something within us that would either make us...or break us. You guessed that most of your story has made you what you are today. You were walking in the park hand in hand with Koutaro and your daughter, playing with his hair while she sat on his shoulders.
“Momma can I ask something?” your daughter spoke breaking silence.
“What is it baby?” you responded
“How’d you meet dad?” she asked cocking her head to the side, much like her father when he’s curious. You smiled at her,
“Well…”
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‘The Meeting’
“Hey, Hey” you ignored whatever that was and whoever was making those annoying calls. Your face remained buried on the textbook required for your literature elective. Lost in your own thoughts and the flow of music through your earbuds, you missed the exasperated sigh that left the lips of the one and only Bokuto Kutaro, star player of the volleyball team.
“Hey miss!” tap tap the loud tapping burst your train of thoughts pulling one of your buds out, you glared at the man in front of you.
“What? You got nothing better to do buddy?!” you spat in utter annoyance.
“You’re in my seat” he replied grimly, lowkey telling you to scoot over. You, in return, refused to leave your spot; checking every nook and cranny to try and look for names or scribblings.
“Doesn’t have your name on it, you can’t stake a claim and this is school property” you argue pettily. He looked at you in disbelief.
“B-but Akaashi sits right here” he whispered, albeit to himself. You stifled a scoff, he looked so upset at the fact that he can’t sit beside this ‘Akaashi’ person. You cleared your throat and offered him the other side of your spot, which is free.
“Why don’t you sit here instead, you’d still be near your friend. I wouldn’t hinder any chatter that you decide to make” is what you told him. There’s no particular reason as to why you wouldn’t move instead, just that your pride isn’t letting you, besides his reactions are very much worth the trouble. The classroom doors creaked open, students pouring in and occupying the seats. A man with dark hair approached you, or rather the seat beside you. He eyed the person you were conversing with just now. He didn’t utter a word and took his seat beside you. A few minutes later the bells started ringing signaling the start of lectures, your professor walked in clutching big old dusty books of classic literature, your not so favorite. The only reason you were even taking this class is for the extra credits, that you most definitely do not need. You were bored and needed a new source of entertainment. For normal students this must seem ridiculous, because studying isn’t counted as a source of fun. Take note ‘normal’ you were far from normal. You’re friendless, you were having a hard time mingling with others your age. It's not that you were getting bullied, it's just you and your foreboding trust issues. You hated the feeling of betrayal and refused to remember what it was like, so as a coping mechanism you refused to make friends, or even open up to anyone.
Bokuto was upset that he didn’t get to sit beside Akaashi, he was a year ahead but the volleyball coaches as much as they hate to prevent him from playing official games, he was failing english literature and needed to keep up his grades in order to enter the court again. Easier said than done, his literature class held him back from moving further. His professor sponsored his letter so that he will only be held back by one subject and not the whole year, all he had to do now is pass the semester with flying colors, and so far he was having a hard time. That’s the reason he needed to sit near Akaashi so the later can help him with his studies, then this woman came out of nowhere and taking his seat is not helping the least bit and he hates it.
“L/N-san we would like to request your assistance” your professor spoke in a low voice. Assistance in what matter, it seems important that it looks almost impossible to refuse.
“I’d be glad to lend a hand, but with what, sensei you rarely ask for favors it feels new” you replied
“Please tutor Bokuto Kotarou, he’s an oncoming senior but has been held back by this subject. If he fails one more time he’d have to repeat the whole year, and this might also put a bad name for his sports scholarship” She explained, you looked at the profile of the student you need to tutor, it was him, the guy with condiments hair.
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“Condiments hair?” your daughter asked in confusion
“Mom was so mean right?? She called dad condiments, do I look like a bottle of ketchup baby?” Koutaro countered on your daughter with faux pity.
“Oh please, your hair is literally salt and pepper, and yeah you looked like a bottle of ketchup when you blush” you chuckled responding to them.
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‘The Courtship’
It’s been five months since you started teaching Kotarou, and the two of you were past the last name formalities. He was still the same as when you first met, loud and annoying. But you’d never tell him that, because as you’ve observed he has times where he just suddenly drops his attitude and becomes sort of gloomy head in the clouds type of persona. It was confusing and downright weird.
You were at the library looking for articles that can support your paper. It was 6pm, you were hungry and sleepy from studying the whole day, and you were starting to get bored. But since your paperwork is nowhere near done you just couldn't leave.
You heaved a deep sigh and rubbed your now strained eyes, feeling the drowsiness trying to pull you into passing out.
BAM.
You suddenly jolted in your seat, you looked at your side where the loud thump came from. Koutaro was pulling the seat beside you.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice” you asked him, he rarely— almost never skips his volleyball practices.
He sat down properly and jingled a bag in your face.“I had a feeling you’d be hungry by now, I heard from Akaashi that you’re pulling all nighters for your class paper, besides we didn't have session today too, and yes, I have practice today” He replied so calmly it weirded you out a bit.
“Then what—” you started asking again when he rudely pressed his pointing finger at your lips. You were so tempted to bite him.
“I ditched, because of our session” he told you, “and also because I want to bring you some food” he continued.
“Kou, we don’t have sessions during Fridays. You specifically asked me to skip tutoring you on Fridays because you said you want to spend this day hanging out with your friends” you replied to his nonsense. You’re grateful that he thought of you and brought you food, but also you didn’t want to take away his personal time with his friends.
“Uhh y/n, you are my friend too so technically I’m still hanging out and spending my time wisely” he told you while opening a bag of pretzels for the two of you to share. You were thankful you picked the most isolated wing of the library to study or else you two would’ve been kicked out from munching loudly.
You blushed a shade of pink not because he said he sees you as a friend, your cherry blossom cheeks represent the embarrassment and lowkey disappointment that you felt knowing that a friend is all that you will be to him.
“I meant special. You’re a very special friend y/n, and that I hope you’ll allow me to offer you more than a special friendship…” he trailed off looking deeply in the depths of your pooling eyes. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed at the butterflies that started storming from within you. If you were a cherry blossom before, you’d definitely be a red rose now.
“Whatever do you mean by that?” you asked him sheepishly, lowering your head to shield him from seeing you in such an unsightly state. You fiddled with your hands whilst waiting for him to give you an answer.
“Y/n, C-can I court you?” He replied with a sweet smile.
‘The Answer’
It’s been a couple of months since Bokuto’s confession and up to this day you still feel giddy about it. Who would’ve thought that you’ll attract someone the complete opposite of you.
Whenever he visits your dorm or whenever you accompany each other somewhere he doesn’t fail to do something sweet to show his affection towards you. You were having mixed feelings whether to give him a chance or not. ‘Relationships are scary’ you thought, but the idea of him doing those sweet things for others gives a painful churn within you. He invited you to attend a game of his and cheer for him.
“Cheers for goodluck” is what he said the last time you met, which was the day before. You entered the gym, the bright lights blinding your sight. Lightly covering up you headed for the bleachers.
The place was already packed from students and other volleyball patrons. You see some free seats, only to be disappointed when they were actually reserved, you turn to leave for a new place when,
“Y/n!! where are you going? Your seat is right here!!” you craned your neck to where the voice came from only to see Koutaro waving at you. He walked to where you were.
“Sit here and cheer for me as loud as you can” he told cracking a beautiful smile. He wasn’t even doing anything special but you could feel the hotness creeping it’s way from your neck to your cheeks.
“O-okay, do your best out there” without even thinking your body moved on its own to give him a peck on his cheeks. His face contorted in surprise, you thought you did something wrong that it made you a little bit conscious, as you we’re pulling away he held your hand and you stared at his blushing face.
“Do it again” he almost sounds commanding if not for his hands slightly shaking in yours
“W-what...I’m sorry my body moved on it’s own” you started,
“Do it again...to double the luck” is what his reply was, you looked down feeling the loud thumping of your heart in your chest you quickly gave his other cheek a peck.
“G-go now, I think the game is about to start” you shoo him away as you try to calm yourself down. You can’t believe you kissed someone. And in public too. For other people it may not be a big thing but for you, that kiss felt special.
(Game goes, 4th Set)
They were at match point and as the game goes, Koutaro suddenly went on his ‘emo mode’, he was dumbfounded just standing there. You looked worried, there was no way they’re going to lose.
“Just one more point” you whispered to yourself, the ball was set and it looks like Koutaro will go for a shot, he still looked out of it. He needs to get out of his slump. An idea came to mind, it was so unlike you to do something like that but you closed your eyes and just goes for it.
“Take that shot and win!!” you screamed the loudest that you can. You saw him stiffen and slowly he ran and jumped, he spiked the ball so hard it bounced with a hard thud, you almost thought it left a mark on the floor. You heard the loud cheers and a loud buzz, signaling that the game comes to a close.
You sighed in relief to see that your little stunt helped him. You were about to go to and congratulate him when he meets you somewhere in the middle.
“Did I do great y/n-chan?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in anticipation almost as if waiting for a praise.
“You did absolutely great, I had fun watching you,I’m sorry I barely cheered loud, I’m not used to public gatherings like this” you shook your head in embarrassment
“Thank you for cheering me on, uhh y/n since we won, don’t you think it’s fitting that i get a gift from you” he told you. You were a bit puzzled, you didn’t get him anything.
“I- I didn’t get you anythi—” you started only to be cut off by him asking,
“Can I please date you now?”
You smiled at him, “Yea sure”
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“I don’t get it, what was the gift that you gave him, if you didn’t buy him one” she asked again tilting her head
“I gave him my answer” you only smiled on her more evident confusion
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‘The Veil and The Bow’
“Calm down Bokuto-san, everything is perfect” Akaashi told Bokuto as they waited for the large wooden doors to open. It has been 5 years since the two of you started going out and 6 months since he proposed. When you said ‘yes’ to his impromptu proposal he couldn’t believe his ears, at first he was worried and ready to pass it off as a joke but then…
“LET'S GO FOR A DRIVE!!” Koutaro screamed out of nowhere, you gave him a look. Raising an eyebrow in confusion you asked,
“Right now?” he must be joking you thought
“Why not?” he asked dumbly, cocking his head to the side
“Uhh..Kou, it’s 11pm.” you told him nonchalantly, you continued filing on your laptop when you felt him tug at your shirt.
“What?” you asked him without looking, he tugged again. This time as you take on his face, he bit his pouty lips and looked at you straight in the eyes as if begging.
“Really? Where are we even going?” you asked him again whilst standing up and slipping on your warmer.
He looked so excited he rushed to get his keys when he came back to you. He engulfed you in a big hug, snuggling his face in the crook of your neck.
He let out a small “Thank you”
Feeling his hot breath tickling your neck, you gently pushed him off.
“Are we just gonna stand and hug here?” you jabbed him jokingly as if to hide your reddening cheeks. He held your hand and guided you to his awaiting car. You’ve been driving for quite a while, just seeing where the night takes the two of you.
It took you the beach
You walked on the cold sand hand in hand. It was dark and chilly, you shuddered and Koutaro held you close to him, you heard him squeak,
“What was that? Did you say something?” you asked him just to make sure.
“We’re here” he announced, you looked at your surroundings only to see a gazebo all set up with candles, a picnic blanket and plush pillows. You looked at Koutaro stunned
“T-this is all planned?” you asked him stunned at the effort he pulled. No wonder he badly wants to go. You felt warm through the cold on how sweet he was
“You looked so stressed with work I thought that a date will cheer you up even a little” he told you as he fiddled with his hands, even though he was slightly looking down you can clearly see his reddish ears. You couldn’t contain yourself so you tiptoed and kissed him.
“Thank you Kou, having you around is already calming to me, but you did all this too, you’re so sweet, i love you you’re the best thing I could ever ask for” you told him while caressing his cheeks.
He moved his hands to engulf yours, he slowly pushed your hands of to his mouth, giving your palms a peck.
“No, thank you y/n for giving me a chance to be with someone like you,” he told you as he stared at you lovingly.
The night goes by and the two of you ate, laughed, and told each other stories. You two were lying quietly staring at the stars glittering in the night sky.
Sigh.
You looked at Koutaro after he heaved that deep sigh.
“Hey, something wrong” you nudged him a little.
“Nothing...it’s just that I want us to stay like this forever, happy and contented, say y/n, can I ask you something?” he replied, you were curious as to what he was going to ask it seems like a big deal to him.
“Hmm?” you hummed in response
“Y/n...will you stay with me for as long as you can..i mean forever..i mean as long as we can, Can we stay with each other” he asked you in almost a whisper
“Are you—” you were about to ask when he looked at you in all seriousness.
“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” you can’t keep the surprise in your face, you blushed deeply, it was weird for him to be this serious, but you’re not gonna lie you like this side of him too, you stared at him for a hot minute and cracked your sweetest smile.
“I thought you’d never ask”
The big doors cracked open, the music flowing, Bokuto stared as you walk to where he was, at the altar, waiting.
As the wedding goes on, it was finally time to say your vows, you looked at Koutaro who is now holding a microphone on his left hand and his right gripping into yours,
“Since the day I met you, I knew you were a special woman. And even though I suck at Literature,it will forever be my favorite subject that I ever enrolled in. From that day forward that I met you in that god forsaken class, I became a true believer that you do not find true love, but true love finds you.
You, more than anyone else, know my insecurities and weaknesses and still never make me feel inadequate. You have always loved me without reservations. You praise me in a way I never thought was possible and because of you, I am the best man I can be.
I cannot promise I will always be the perfect husband, but I promise to love you through the good times and bad. To choose our love every single day. I promise to always fight with you and for you, never against you. I promise to always be your biggest fan, confidant and best friend. I promise to remember we are not perfect—only perfect for each other. I promise to love you without hesitation or boundaries from this day forward, for the rest of my life.
Thank you for being the woman of my dreams and the best partner I could ever ask for. Thank you for being the pillar that my wacky soul has always needed and I will forever be your wings. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter.
You are my better half and very best friend. I will love you, honor you, respect and cherish you in sickness and health, through sorrows and success, for all the days of my life. I am forever yours."
You bit your lip to calm yourself from sobbing into his heartfelt words. You felt his love from every single thing that he spewed out. You were thankful to where you are now, you were thankful to god that gave you a man like Bokuto Koutaro to love you. As you dab away the heavy tears on your face and as clear your throat you tell him your vows in return.
“I want so badly to be able to explain all the love I have for you. Not the love of butterflies and stomach knots—but more the blurring of self and the entanglement with another soul. Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. You are a million dreams and a million prayers of a little girl come true. You are kind. You are silly. You are intelligent—in your own way. Your laugh is contagious and you can put away an entire ice cream cake in one sitting like nobody else can. You acknowledge my strengths and accept my faults. You make me want to be a better person every day. I take you as you are now, tomorrow and for eternity to come, to be my husband.
Even when the day comes that we're old and gray, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment. So today, I vow to honor you and respect you, support you and encourage you. I promise to dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever life brings. I vow to laugh with you and comfort you during times of joy and times of sorrow. I promise to always pursue you, to fight for you, and love you unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. You are my best friend and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to call you mine."
As you finished your vows you couldn’t help the cracking of your voice, you felt hot tears flow from your eyes, you looked at him as he wipes all of them away.
“Shhh..don’t cry, everyone might get the wrong idea” Koutaro told you as he dabbed on your face. You only chuckled at him, he’s far too precious and you’re lucky to be able to witness it.
“You’re the one getting the wrong idea Kou, these are happy tears. Finally we’re binded forever and always.” you smiled at him as the priest continues on the ceremony
“Forever and always” he whispered back at you as the two of you we’re slipping on your wedding rings.
The priest announced “I pronounce you man and wife, may you live long and build a happy life together.”
He kissed you as the cheers filled the room.
‘The Life’
“Kou!! Go and chase Kaori!!” you instructed your husband to follow your daughter as she ran around away from you. She’s so much like her father, in personality and in looks. You had her 3years ago, and now you would’ve chased her yourself if not for your heavy bulging stomach. You were 7 months in your second pregnancy and everything was hard to do. Thank god for Koutaro, even though he was busy because of his job as a professional athlete he always make sure to make time for you, he always comes home early and makes sure throughout the day that you’re feeling fine. At times he will bring your daughter along to work to lessen the things that you have to think about for the day.
Today was special, he took a day off to take the threeof you to the park. You were tired from playing with the two of them the whole day. So you decided that the three of you should rest a bit, but your child has other plans of her own as soon as you situated yourself on a bench she hopped off and ran. That was why you asked your husband to chase her off to bring her back. The two of them was now in your line of sight, you didn’t want to scold your daughter but, she was extremely hyper and you didn’t want her to trip and fall then hurt herself.
“Bokuto Kaori, you do not just go and run away, against mom’s request, what if you hurt yourself?” you asked her as gentle as you can, even so she still whimpered at you scolding her. She looked at you with big teary eyes.
“I’m so sowwy momma, I only went to go pick these flowers for you” she answered you as she took out three wildflowers from her back, you cooed at how sweet she was. You waved at her to come close and she did, you engulfed her in a loving embrace kissing her temples lightly,
“Aww thank you baby,” you looked up to see Koutaro surprisingly quiet. He was staring at the two of you, he was filled with love and he was grateful for the family you two built together.
“Can I join that hug?” he asked, you opened your arms as he rushed into them almost crushing your daughter in between. The three of you laughed while coddled like that. You looked up at the sky, thankfully smiling.
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Gen Taglist open: @kitayawa @aruhappy
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miknai · 3 years
Conversation
facetime: luce the deuce
Lucy: A seven hours gap in time was, to put it frankly, a total bitch. Especially since Lucielle wasn’t really used to spending as much time on her phone as she had been since Ian had left for South Korea. But it could have been worse. Probably. Currently, her phone was resting on a few of her textbooks where she could see her boyfriend while she pushed around the last few bites of her dinner. A deep sigh left her as she turned her full attention to Ian again. “I’m not looking forward to tomorrow,” the blonde complained for what felt like the umpteenth time. “What if I get chained with someone I can’t stand? Can you imagine if I get Savannah?” Lucielle groaned, pushing her palms to her eyes. “If this thing wasn’t for charity I wouldn’t have agreed in a thousand years. There are too many shitty possibilities and too few acceptable ones.”
Ian: Ian had his phone set up on one of the shelves in his walk in closet as he was trying on clothes that he had left there from his last visit, seeing if they fit and most importantly if they even looked nice. Looking over at his phone as Lucy spoke, he walked towards his phone and paid attention as Lucy complained about the upcoming event. Chuckling at the thought of Lucy and Savannah being chained together he shook his head. "That would fucking suck." He said. "What if you just... run away and be chained to me instead? I think that would be much better." He suggested with a wink. "I mean, I think the shitty possibilities are still less than the not shitty ones, right?" He asked curiously as he took his shirt off before pulling another one on and checking himself off in the camera.
Lucy: Lucielle groaned at the prospect, a shudder going down her spine. “I think she’d glare me to death. Like, literally, I would die, Ian. Our last encounter was so bad.” Ian’s words turned her pout up into a smile, if only for a second. She gathered her knees close to her chest, placing her chin on top of them as a longing sigh escaped her. “I wish it were that easy. I’d just skip right over and probably never leave.” She thought it over for a brief second before clicking her tongue. “Definitely not. I think spending more time with Jiho just wiped your memory of all the terrible folk we go to school with. And everyone’s even more on edge. Ugh!” She leaned in a little closer as Ian switched his shirt, humming thoughtfully. “I think the previous one was better,” Lucy chimed in. “This one's fine but the other one suits you even more.”
Ian: "Wait, what happened?" He asked when Lucy mentioned their last encounter. Ian thought back to his last words to Sav which warned her not to give grief to Lucy and so naturally, he was curious to know if she didn't heed his warning. Not like he even knew what he would do if she didn't. "Well don't get my hopes up. It would be great if you could come and visit for a bit." He said, really wanting her to but he wouldn't blame her if she couldn't. Raising his brows with a sigh, he shook his head. "You might be right, I think anyone at this point is better than Jiho. It's like... he gives off this calm aura and then he speaks and you just don't know if you want to end him or yourself." He explained. Looking down at his current shirt, he quirked a brow up. "Just.... fine?" He questioned. "Should I get rid of it then? It's pretty old."
Lucy: She pursed her lips as she replayed the time they ran into each other in the cafeteria. “I saw her a week or so after the Secret Santa and we had a bit of a… well, it wasn’t a squabble, not really but she called me poor-mannered. Can you imagine? Me? Poor-mannered?” Lucielle scoffed at the idea, stabbing the last bits of her dinner. “Also a back-stabber but whatever. She can think whatever she wants to, I don’t care.” And it was true. Savannah wasn’t nearly close enough to her for her opinion to be of matter to the blonde. Anger quickly faded into sadness as she was reminded that the chances of her actually seeing Ian in person for quite some time were slim. “I wish we were together already.” She pouted at her screen before giggling at Ian’s explanation of his brother. “It can’t be that bad. At least he has a calm aura. Some of us are not that lucky.” Lucy hummed, drumming her fingers as she inspected his shirt once again. “Yeah, I think you should probably donate it or something.”
Ian: Ian's eyebrows knit together when Lucy explained their interaction in the cafeteria. Was his warning not clear to Sav? "Poor-mannered? On what basis?" He asked sounding annoyed. A scoff escaping his lips. "You're far from poor mannered. What would she know?" He said with a shake of his head. Shrugging at the back-stabber comment, Ian didn't care much about it. It was a typical thing to be called, he was used to it at least. "Whatever, not like you guys were that close for you to owe her anything." He pointed out. Smiling softly as she expressed wanting to be with him, he came closer to his phone and studied her features as he thought about how much he had missed her. "Soon enough we will be. The second I get the green light I'll be back with you." He reassured her. Hearing her praise Jiho's calm aura, he rolled his eyes. "I strive off of reactions and he gives me none. I'd rather him not be calm and give me SOMETHING." He urged. Taking off the shirt, he put on another shirt that was a plain shirt. "Yeah, I'll probably donate it."
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justanotherfanfic · 5 years
Text
Love on Me
summary: reader had an incident at steve’s birthday party and it takes an emotional toll on her for the night and the next day. the team notices and warns your dad. tony needs to do whatever it takes to make his daughter feel beautiful in her own body...
warnings: body shaming, anxiety, depression, slight eating problem
pairing: tony stark x plus size!teen!daughter!reader
word count: 3.8k+
a/n: this was requested! it’s currently 1am and i finally finished it! i’m so sorry i took so long, i just wanted to be sure that it would come out perfect! i was so excited to write this so i’m sorry if this is too long! as a 19-year-old plus size girl, i found this to be really personal. i have grown up with insecurities and self-doubt. this is a mini-lesson in itself that you need to love yourself. yes, you will have days where you hate your body and yourself, but if you truly think about it... everyone has different shapes and sizes, that’s what makes us all different and beautiful! please only positive words and feedback. i hope this is what you were hoping for!
requested by: @lilacprincessofrecovery - hi, i was wondering if you could make a dad!tony x teen chubby!daughter reader. ihavent seen anything like it and I would love to see how he would be able to help her like herself more
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GROWING UP AS a Stark has its ups and downs. Not only are you one of the richest figures, but you are constantly surrounded by the pressure of the media. You were not like the other girls, the ones who can pass as supermodels. Your body was different than most girls and it caused the attention of the public. Magazine covers are always on the lookout for you and your body figure. Every little outfit was met with nasty remarks. Appearances were always met with backlash. No matter how hard you tried, the media always had something negative to say about you and your weight. It has taken an emotional toll on you the way you look at yourself.
You were always told by your father how ridiculous the media was. He would always explain their technique of mentally breaking top tier celebrities. He would tell you stories about how badly he was viewed by the public because of how the media portrayed him to be. Tony was either a playboy, dead man, idiot, criminal, or a reckless hero. It was always hard for you, you were the type who wanted to please everyone. It wasn't your fault that your body was different, you just had to deal with the overwhelming negativity from the public. Because of this, your dad and the team would constantly try to distract you from it.
You were currently flipping through the Chemistry textbook Peter let you borrow to work on the extra credit assignment given the day before. You sighed as you stared at all the formulas and equations that covered the pages. You munched on a few strawberries as your eyes wandered around the book while you took notes. You had FRIDAY play some music to help you concentrate on your study session. You hummed to the music when your dad came into the room with droopy eyes.
"Hey sweetcheeks," Your dad greeted in attempt to hide his tiredness.
"What time?" You responded as you copied an equation onto your notes. You knew by the way his eyes looked and how slow his movements were that he probably didn't sleep, and if he did, it was probably really late.
Tony sighed, "5am."
You looked up at him and gave him a look, "That's the third time this week, dad."
He shrugged, "It's growing on me."
"Daaaddddd...." You dragged on.
He chuckled as he walked up to you. He kissed your forehead before going to make some coffee, "For you, I'll go to sleep at 4am."
"8pm..." You countered as you took a bite of another strawberry.
"2am." He called back as he pressed a few buttons on the coffee machine.
You scoffed, "11pm!"
"12am."
"Deal!" You laughed as you rolled your eyes playfully.
"It's not my fault Banner discovered a new element!" Tony defended.
You groaned, "Great! Another element to study for this assignment."
Your dad laughed to himself as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He swiftly moved around the kitchen as he started to heat up some leftovers from the night before - Clint's famous spaghetti. It was silent for a moment, the only thing being heard was the music playing from FRIDAY's system. "We're having a party for Rogers tomorrow," Your dad spoke as he poured the hot liquid into his mug that plastered Best Iron Dad.
You nodded as you focused on your assignment. You were highlighting a few definitions before the book was closed shut by your dad. You looked up with an annoyed expression.
"That means you need to wear a nice dress... not some jeans and a nice shirt." He raised his eyebrow referring to how you often dress casually. "Do you want me to get Romanoff or Maximoff to take you shopping?"
You shook your head, "I'm sure I have something in my room already."
He simply nodded before walking off with his coffee on one hand and the spaghetti on the other.
"A dress!" He called again before completely disappearing from the room.
You sighed as you opened your textbook to continue with your assignment. Unfortunately, you couldn't concentrate. Your mind began rambling about Steve's party tomorrow. You groaned and slammed your textbook shut. You were never fond of wearing dresses, it was pretty much out of your comfort zone. You decided to cut your study session short and went to your room to find something to wear tomorrow night.
It was now Saturday night. You were on your residential floor getting ready as you felt the tower vibrating from the booming music only a few floors down. You found a beautiful burgundy dress that fit perfectly to your upper body and breasts. Spaghetti straps hugged your shoulders and exposed back, enough to leave it fitted comfortably. The dress loosely flowed down your legs where high slits were on each side of your legs that allowed your dress to flow beautifully around you. You danced along to the music in your room as you finished getting ready. You laughed to yourself knowing Tony would make fun on how ridiculous your dancing skills were.
"Miss Stark, your father is notifying you that the party has begun," FRIDAY's voice rings in the room. You smiled at her voice as you adjusted your dress. "Would you like me to notify him of an estimated time of arrival?"
"Yes," You confirmed. "I'll be down in about five minutes."
"Got it," FRIDAY responded as you cleaned the mess you made while getting ready.
Before you left your room you decided to take a look at yourself. You walked over to the body mirror that was hung on the door of your bedroom. You stopped what you were doing and stared in amazement. You felt your heart racing as you stared at the figure in front of you. Your face brightened, you felt beautiful. The dress complemented your body well and you felt your mood brighten up. You sprayed yourself with one of your fancier perfumes before you headed out your room and into the elevator.
Once the elevator brought you to the floor of the party, you felt the energy of many high-class guests. You thought that the party would have been more casual, but your dad insisted on giving Steve a formal party. You began walking deeper into the crowd of strangers, hoping to find an Avenger. After a while, you finally found your dad.
"You look gorgeous sweetheart," Your dad smiled before pulling you into a hug. You gave a small smile as you took in the smell of his more expensive colognes. He pulled away and took another look at you. "This is the exact reason why you need to be wearing dresses more often. You look beautiful."
You smiled and rubbed your arm, "I'm going to go get some lemonade. Want anything?"
Tony shook his head and gestured to the alcoholic beverage in his hand. You smiled at him before making your way to the bar. You sighed as you noticed everyone staring at you. You couldn't tell if it was judgmental or not. You finally made it to the bar and took a seat on the stool. Your eyes wandered around the list of beverages that were offered.
"Who let [Y/N] Stark come looking like a mess?" A voice whispered behind you. You felt your heart sting at the remark but decided to ignore it.
You smiled at the bartender, "Lemonade, please."
"Shocker," Another voice spoke behind you. "Try some water, it might help with your weight."
You didn't turn around. You knew if you did you would breakdown. Instead, your head fell down as you fidgeted with your fingers. You knew you should've never gone out of your comfort zone. You felt tears pooling around your eyes as your mind rambled on different ways to leave the party without anyone noticing. The bartender slid the glass over to you as you smiled weakly at them.
A hand was suddenly on your shoulder. You flinched before looking up at a smiling Peter Parker. His smile fell seeing your puffy, red eyes. "[Y/N] are you okay?" Peter questioned in concern.
You sniffed and quickly wiped your tears before putting a smile on your face, "As perfect as I can ever be. What's up, Parker?"
Peter observed you for a moment but decided not to comment. He plastered a smile on his face and took a sip from his cup. The music vibrated around the two of you as he explained his new invention for the suit and how excited he was to talk to your dad about it. You laughed while taking sips of your lemonade. You almost forgot about the remarks until you were shoved by someone behind you. You stumbled a bit before you regained your balance with the help of Peter. You looked behind you to see a slim, fit girl glaring at you, "Watch where you're standing fatass!"
You were taken back by the remark as you felt your smile drop. She scoffed before walking away to her group of friends. You felt Peter tense up and begin taking steps over to the group of friends before you stopped him.
You shook your head, "It's not worth it Pete."
He felt hurt at your words, "They can't be speaking to you that way. It's not right!"
You gave a humorless laugh, "Peter I've been called worse."
Peter frowned at you. You sighed and looked at the time on your phone, the bright light reflecting off of your facial features, "I- I'm going to head out. I don't feel so great." You lied; Peter knew this and it made him more upset than before. "I think it was the lemonade."
"[Y/N] please..." Peter pleaded as he held onto your hand. "C'mon, I think Thor is on his third magic alcohol now. Maybe we can get him to lend us his hammer for the night." Peter tried to change the topic in hopes to make you feel better.
You slowly pulled your hand away as you began walking away, "If my dad asks, tell him I felt sick."
You turned around and started walking out of the party as many people were staring at you with a judgmental look. You felt your breath shake with every step you took. You walked into the elevator and watch it close as Peter was looking at you from afar. You felt a tear fall down as you pressed the button that would take you to your residential floor.
Once you made it to your floor, you went straight to your room and threw yourself onto your bed and let all your bottled up emotions out. You felt like you were crying in your bed for hours. You were tired of all the backlash you were receiving. No matter how hard you tried, you were never going to win. You genuinely thought you looked beautiful, but apparently, you weren't. You continued crying until you drifted off to sleep.
It was the next day, you woke up and felt exhausted. You almost forgot about the night before until you felt yourself still in the dress from last night. You huffed and got undressed and washed your face. You got dressed in work out clothes and decided that today would be the day you changed your habits and lifestyle. You took a deep breath before heading down to the kitchen.
The team was all at the common room laughing up a storm as Wanda and Vision were finishing cooking the breakfast. You avoided everyone and silently went to the fridge and examined what there was. Wanda noticed your presence and smiled up at you, "Good morning [Y/N], will you be joining us for breakfast?"
You closed the fridge and looked at them, "I don't think so."
Vision looked up from the stove, "Are you sure? There's going to be pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast. It's your favorite."
You felt your stomach growl. Vision and Wanda smirking at you. You blushed but shook your head, "No I'm fine." You walked over to the fruit basket and grabbed a banana and a water bottle from the side. You gestured to the banana and walked out of the kitchen. Vision and Wanda gave each other a look before finishing the food.
When you walked out of the kitchen you noticed Peter was laughing with Bucky about a story he was recalling from the 40s. You both made eye contact for a second before you quickly tried to leave the room. You noticed he was getting off of the couch and tried making his way to you. You walked faster towards the elevator and hit the button that leads to the training level. You sighed to yourself and relaxed once the elevator doors closed.
You were finally brought to the training room. You walked over to the treadmill and felt intimidated. You hated running with a passion, so instead, you walked over to the punching bags and decided to take baby steps on your new workout routine. You put on the gloves that were next to the station. You put the banana and water bottle to the side and adjusted yourself before you started your workout.
Your first punch felt great. A sudden rush of adrenaline kicked inside of you. You continued punching rapidly, all your anger and anxiety releasing from you. You felt your body beginning to feel the amount of movement you were making. Sweat was beading around your body and face as your face was getting flushed. It was a little over an hour before footsteps were heard.
"What did the punching bag do to you?" A voice called out.
You jumped in surprise and noticed it was Steve. You didn't respond and continued to punch. Steve laughed to himself before walking over to the punching bag. He used both of his arms to hold it steady and help your training get better. You felt your body flushing from the lack of food and water but ignored it. You wanted to let all the energy you had to help you sweat as much as you could. You continued punching as Steve now noticed the look on your face, you looked angry and upset. You felt your body getting weaker but you didn't want to give into the weakness. As you were about to take another punch, your legs gave out. You felt yourself starting to fall but you were too weak to catch yourself.
"Woah!" Steve gasped and caught you before you could fall. "[Y/N] are you okay?!"
You felt your face brighten up in embarrassment. You shook your head in an attempt to gain consciousness, "I'm fine." You began getting up as Steve helped you up and observed you.
"You're not fine," He responded. "Have you eaten?"
You looked over at the unopened banana and water bottle. Steve looked over as well and shook his head in disapproval, "You need to eat. You're harming yourself."
"I said I was fine," You glared and grabbed your things and tried walking away.
Before you could take another step, Steve grabbed your arm. "[Y/N] what's wrong?"
"Nothing!" You shouted in anger as you pulled your arm away. "What, I can't work out? Never seen [Y/N] Stark work out? Is that what it is?!"
Steve was taken back by your outburst. You huffed and immediately left the room before you said something you'd regret. You felt your hands shaking from anger as a tear slipped down your cheek. Steve saw you wipe it before you completely left the training room.
It was later on during the day, you were now avoiding Peter and Steve. You decided that you would have to resort to the facts and experiments to help you fix your body. The best place to gain this information is from the lab. You had cleaned yourself up already and ended up eating the banana in your room while you cried. You walked into the lab to see Bruce working on writing all the information he could gather on the element he discovered a couple of days ago.
"Hey [Y/N]," Bruce greeted as you smiled and went to the back of the room. He noticed you went straight for the files which grew his curiosity. "What are you looking for?"
"Something for my extra credit assignment," You lied.
Bruce didn't question further as he continued on his work.
You decided that you wanted to study the human body and why each person's body is different. You were flickering through different files from Bruce's cabinets. You sighed in relief when you found the file on Dieting and Human Emotions.
"Well," Bruce called.  "I'll be upstairs with the team if you need me."
You didn't respond, too focused on the file in front of you. Bruce quirked his eyebrow but didn't comment on it. He then walked out of the lab, leaving you alone. You were reading each report, article, and experiments done for that file. You were frustrated that you could not find the answers you needed. You stared at the picture of a young girl who had the perfect body shape. You would never be as beautiful as all the other teens. Tears pooled around your eyes, tears beginning to fall on the image in your hand. You cried as you ripped the paper of the girl. The dream body you wanted.
"I am reading your heart rate spiking up," FRIDAYs voice echoing in the room. "Shall I call Mr. Stark?"
"No!" You called out in fear. "Don't call dad!"
You set the file down on the table next to you as you quickly started grabbing the bits of paper that were scattered on the floor. FRIDAY ignored your requests and immediately called your dad down. FRIDAY's voice boomed in his room making Tony jump in surprise. He then felt terrified thinking something wrong was happening to you so he ran towards the lab. Once he made it inside, he saw you crying on the floor picking up pieces of ripped paper off of the ground. He slowly walked over to you and saw a file on the table with articles, sticky notes, and pictures poking out from it.
Tony grabbed the file and read the title - Dieting and Human Emotion. Tony sighed as he felt his heart ache for his daughter. He now realized why Peter said you were crying last night, why Vision and Wanda said you were avoiding breakfast, why Steve questioned why you had an outburst in the training room, and why Bruce mentioned you were in the lab. He was looking for you throughout the day to talk to you but he had no luck. He was grateful for FRIDAY alerting where you were. You looked up after hearing Tony sigh. You felt vulnerable after being caught looking through Bruce's files and feeling insecure about it all.
"[Y/N]?" Your dad questioned and finally felt his overprotective father instincts kick in. "Is this what Peter was trying to tell me last night? Did someone say something to you? Is that why you skipped breakfast? Is this why you yelled at Steve? Who the hell is hurting you-"
"There's something wrong with me!" You finally cried out and interrupted your dad. Your dad was taken aback by your statement. Did you really hate your body and yourself? He couldn't believe it. His own daughter hated herself.
"Sweetheart there is nothing wrong with you!" Tony brought himself to the floor pulled you into his chest.
You cried into his chest as you shook your head, "Then why does everyone always have something to say about me and my body?"
Tony knew this was something out of his knowledge. Typically a mother should be the one to assure his teenage daughter about the beauty of womanhood, but Tony had no idea about it. Being a single father was always different for Tony, there were always new things to learn and overcome with his daughter. Today was just another part of it - helping his daughter love herself, just as he loved her.
Tony looked down at you. "Real beauty isn't about symmetry or weight or makeup; it's about looking life right in the face and seeing all its magnificence reflected in your own," Tony whispered as he used his thumb to wipe off your tears from your cheek.
You felt yourself smile before looking down to yourself. You examined yourself for the hundredth time that day. Your dad shook his head before slightly moving your head to look into his eyes.
"[Y/N]," Tony sighed. "You are whole already, perfect the way you are. Your whole being is so much more complex, so much more fragile, so much more subtle and intelligent than a few days of dieting or a page of notes can portray. Reducing your self-worth to your weight is ridiculous and lethal."
You felt your tears welling up, you started to get overwhelmed by your strong emotions of yourself and how unhappy you were with how you looked.
Tony grabbed your face with both of his hands. You leaned yourself into his touch, you felt your nerves going down a little. Tony continued, "I'm not trying to sound harsh, I'm trying to show you that you can love yourself without worrying about everything you eat. You are worth more than your weight. You have a heart, mind, and soul that can change the world. You are a Stark, nothing will ever change that. I love you 3000." He then leaned in and kissed your forehead, your left cheek, and right cheek.
You leaned into the touch, "Not 4000?"
"I was thinking 5000 but that might be a stretch."
You laughed and playfully hit his chest. Tony laughed with you then looked down at you. You smiled as Tony ran his fingers through your hair to help you relax and enjoy the moment.
"Now, let's go upstairs and join the team for some lunch?" You dad offered. You breathed out and nodded. "Great! It's my turn to cook and I could use the help."
You groaned, "Child labor!"
Tony shook his head as you both began walking towards the common room, "I'm not going to let my daughter be a freeloader. Gotta earn it!"
You laughed, "But you love me, 3000!"
"Yeah you're right," He responded and kissed your hair as you both went into the kitchen to start cooking.
Tony knew that he had to do whatever he needs to do in order to make his daughter feel loved. He knew this may be difficult but he will always be there to help you see how truly beautiful you were in his eyes and everyone else's. He smiled when he saw you laughing at a joke Natasha said at the table. Tony was ecstatic seeing your smile and never wants it to go away. He loved you more than anyone could ever comprehend.
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wingletblackbird · 6 years
Note
I appreciate your nuanced and respectful anti-abortion post, and I want to raise a question that you didn't address. How do you regard medication abortions, which account for about 30% of abortions and can be performed extremely early? Your argument about fetal life wouldn't seem to apply as well at three or four weeks gestation. I'm not trying to pick a fight, just genuinely curious.
Don’t worry I don’t think you’re trying to pick a fight. I can dialogue with anyone on any subject really, so long as we’re both willing to listen and be respectful, even be willing to change our minds if we are exposed to something we hadn’t considered. I actually, generally, quite enjoy a good discussion. ;) I also am a firm believer that as long as you’re sincere, there is no such things as a bad question. I appreciate the ask, and I’m glad you felt my original post was respectful. I was worried about setting the wrong tone.
(On that note, before I get into this, I really want to make sure I make it clear I don’t think women who have abortions are any better or worse than anybody else. I don’t think most people who are pro-choice are bad people either–No more than the rest of us anyway. 1 in 4 people or so in the States, iirc, will have an abortion. It’s ludicrous to suppose they are all horrible people, or that their supporters are. I cannot know what women feel like going into those clinics, but I am given to understand that helpless, panicked, and desperate are common emotions, and if you are not given the proper support, or information, it is hard to make good decisions like that. Beyond even that, people make mistakes. I am not here to judge them, and if any woman is struggling post-abortion, I would say there is forgiveness, and redemption, and support out there for you.) 
You’re right; I barely touched on the issue of medication abortions. I felt the post was already longer than most people would care for anyway. Before I get into why I oppose those too, I should stress first that by the time most people know they’re pregnant there will already be a heartbeat, and likely discernible brain waves. Ergo, I think it would be rare that it wouldn’t be blindingly obvious you were dealing with a young child, even without the further evidence I am about to offer that life begins at feritilistaion. To offer a personal example, when my parents were trying to conceive my brother and I, my mom was very in tune with her natural cycles. She always knew when she was ovulating from the left side because she could feel a twinge in her lower  back, so she and my dad were able to conceive by brother and I on just the one attempt. Likewise, within a couple weeks after my conception, my mom knew she was pregnant even when it was too early for it to even be detectable by a pregnancy test, so she went to the hospital and asked for a blood test which confirmed she was pregnant. Then she and my dad went to get an ultrasound, and discovered my heart was already beating. That was when my dad went from pro-choice to pro-life, because he realised even at such an early stage, before it could easily be detected, I was alive!
But, of course, what if you have unprotected sex, or for whatever reason you have cause to believe that you could be pregnant really, really early? You’ve pretty much asked for an abortion from the first moment you could possible be considered pregnant. Even then I would say that this is wrong. The child is still a legitimate human being. There is overwhelming scientific consensus on this: Life begins at conception. 
First of all, we know that from the moment of conception the individual is alive. They have all the characteristics of a living entity. Cells are the smallest form of life. That is one of the basics of cell theory and biology. Moreover, once fertilization occurs they are the offspring of two humans, and they are humans genetically. Perhaps most importantly they are human organisms. They are not merely masses of tissue, or clumps of cells, because body cells do not have the capacity to grow, and change, and develop the way that an organism does. This is why sperm cells, egg cells, muscle tissue etc. do not have rights, while the human organism does. The zygote, blastocyst, embryo, fetus, infant, toddler, child, pre-teen, teenager, and adult are all humans in different stages of development, and each is as valid as the other. Furthermore, it is expected in our society to protect the most vulnerable of us such as children. To not do so is considered terrible, even monstrous, except when it comes to those who are developing in-utero. This makes no sense to me. Life begins at fertilisation, and if allowed to grow over the course of a couple decades, results into a fully mature adult of our species. This is the scientific evidence. To terminate that development is to kill the youngest of our kind, to deny them to right to continue to grow and learn and change. You would think every stage of human life from the zygote to the senior citizen would be equally as valuable. However, in the interests of profit and convenience, they are not. (Frankly, this applies to many seniors who are mistreated as well, and aren’t granted the respect and dignity they deserve.)
If you look at embryology textbooks you’ll see quotes like this:
Although human life is a continuous process, fertilisation is a critical landmark, because, under ordinary circumstances a new, genetically distinct human organism, is thereby formed. –Human Embryology and Teratology
Human life begins at fertilization.—The Developing Human 
Development begins with fertilisation—Langman’s Medical Embryology
Even amongst the pro-choice side we get:
There is no doubt that from the first moments of its existence, an embryo conceived from human sperm and eggs is a human being.—Peter Singer, Practical Ethics
Hence, the moment you terminate a pregnancy, whatever the stage, you deny a life the right to exist. You will never get it back. You will never know what that child could have been. 
Other issues that have to be considered with the understanding that life begins at conception is the issue of hormonal birth control, (since I’m on the subject and don’t really get into it in the first post...). I recently read an outraged News article talking about how some politician said that the Pill caused abortion. The man in question was called a religious nut, ignorant, and uninformed, but I rather thought the journalist was. Few people seem to realise that the Pill does not always stop ovulation, and hence, fertilization. While it makes it very difficult for fertilization to occur, it can still occur. If that happens, the Pill will usually result in a lost life, because the Pill also prevents implantation of the fertilised egg by altering the endometrium. This is why many claim that the Pill has the potential to be abortifacient. If you believe that life starts at conception, as I do, hormonal contraception is out. The morning after pill is really just a higher dosage of the regular pill anyway, so really this shouldn’t be surprising. 
Taking the next leap from the understanding that fertilization is the earliest stage of human development is the nature of IVF. To promote greater levels of success, multiple embryos are nurtured. They are screened for “undesirable” qualities whether it be for disabilities, or gender. (I’ve already talked about why that’s awful in my original post.) After successful implantation, the other embryos, the siblings of the lucky implanted ones, are terminated or frozen. Moreover, if the pregnancy results in multiples, because all embryos implant, there is often an abortion to reduce the pregnancy to something safer. Some mothers refuse to do this and you get “Octomom.” I respect them for not terminating their children, but it definitely made for some very high-risk pregnancies. The fact is if you are going to say that you believe something, you cannot pick and choose what it applies to. The evidence points to life begins at conception which means artificial methods of conception need to be looked at as well. I touched on this in my viability argument and I’ll just post that again here:
What about embryo adoption though? Did you know that that is possible? That that is even being done? It has already happened that parents who use IVF, and have no further need for the other embryos they have frozen allow other couples who cannot conceive naturally to adopt them. It has been called the earliest form of adoption. Well, how does this fit into the viability idea? If you can take an embryo and implant it into someone else’s womb? What if you can develop artificial wombs? What if you can remove a fetus in the first trimester and still keep it alive? The whole viability argument makes me feel a bit uncomfortable to be honest, because it is so inherently subjective.
As a side note, I wonder how those embryos who were adopted feel when they grow up. They know that they weren’t the lucky embryo chosen by their biological parents. They were the one frozen, unwanted, and then lucky enough to be granted a chance to truly live when they were given up for adoption. How do they feel knowing they have a biological sibling living with a different set of parents? That maybe they have more still frozen? When an infant is given up for adoption, it is usually a loving decision based upon the mother’s, and possibly even the father’s, recognition that they cannot care for the child. Frozen embryos though…they’re just children, or potential children if you don’t recognise them as being alive, stuck in a freezer. Their parents just have no need for them.
Since I’m on the subject I’ll just go all out and talk about that last point too: The family. 
I remember reading an article years and years ago about how in a family one child was given away, and one was allowed to stay. It was years ago, so I remember few of the details, but I do remember the parent was confused that the child who stayed kept acting out. Surely since she was the one who was kept, she would have felt more safe? In truth though, the child felt worse because she never felt “safe” in a family where people left. She learned that being loved seemed to be conditional. She wanted to know what the limits were for her. When would she be sent away? 
I was conceived right after my mother miscarried my elder brother. He was miscarried so late, he was almost born stillborn, but if he had been born, I would never have been conceived. It’s a crazy thought to me, because I was almost miscarried too. (My mom really struggled to carry a pregnancy to term.) I think sometimes about how it could have been James that was born, and me that was lost. As a consequence, I view my life as even more of a miracle then it already is. My brother died and I was able to live. It’s a humbling thought, and I can’t take it lightly. James is a part of my life, and while my family and I don’t speak of him often, when we do it is with love and grief and respect. My mother even cried once saying she could never have chosen between us, and she wishes she could have raised us both. I often find I want to live a good life, for his sake, as well as my own, and my family’s, and others. James is as important to me. I don’t want to waste the gift I was granted. I wonder though how it would feel if James had been aborted instead. There are, of course, few studies done on the siblings of aborted children, but what I have found indicates grief, anger, and survivor’s guilt–especially those who were once part of multiples that were “selectively reduced”. There have even been developed support groups for the siblings of aborted children who are struggling with it. Abortion rocks the entire family.
One woman who works at a Pregnancy Counselling Centre stated:
“Abortion teaches children that they have worth because they were conceived in the right conditions and at the right time; that they have value because their parents want them. Up to 50% of all American children have lost a brother or a sister to abortion, making it much more likely that they live with a performance view of love: I was born because I was wanted therefore I better perform so they will continue to love me.”
I imagine this is particularly understandable for those who were kept because they were a girl or a boy, and the parents wanted a girl or a boy rather than the opposite sex. Do you only love me because I’m the right gender? 
The above woman also said:
“I think one of the most difficult things for me to face is a woman who is attempting to justify an abortion for the sake of her other children. I always want to tell them…the best thing for her little ones is to have a brother or a sister. In fact, explaining to sons and daughters a few years in the future as to why they aborted their sibling will probably be the most difficult thing they will ever do[.]”
One sibling described how her mother felt unequal to raising a fourth child so aborted the baby. She was left wondering if she’d been that fourth child, would she have been aborted? It’s an uncomfortable question. Love is unconditional, and that should never be in question, and neither should someone’s right to live. These concepts go hand in hand. The value of a life does not rest on it’s convenience, gender, or health.  
This is the heart of the pro-life movement. It is about the inherent dignity of all human life from conception to natural death. It means to be so respectful of the dignity of the human person, you could not fathom supporting anything that would harm them. It means such a fundamental respect for human life that you do not terminate it, rather you do everything you can to support it. It means a respect for life so deep that you do not take the risks of having sex if you aren’t willing to carry a pregnancy, however unlikely it is to occur, to term. It means looking at children as blessing not burdens. It means loving the people you have in your life, young, old, or middle-aged whatever their physical or mental state. It means asking yourself the difficult question: Are people an inconvenience to you? It means pushing for better maternity leave, paternity leave, social services, health care, foster care, adoption services, palliative care, and so on and so forth. More than that, it means being willing to pitch-in and help out yourself. It’s not just about what happens in the abortion clinic. To truly believe in life and love means making a commitment. It will not always be easy, but it is worth it. Abortion may be the “easy” option, but it is not the best one. It shouldn’t even be option at all, and it is devastating in basically every way. 
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spidergwenistrans · 4 years
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I saw this comic a couple weeks ago, posted by the artist on her Twitter or Instagram page
I'd been kinda facing the feelings this comic brought up for a while, but I don't think I was really processing them. I'm not sure if I am now, or if I even know how, maybe eventually I'll make it to some kind of acceptance.
Before I started hormones, it felt like all of my emotions were dulled compared to what they are now. Including whether I even wanted kids?
I always liked the idea of having kids eventually, but it also didn't fit right trying to imagine myself as a father figure to them.
Around the 8 month mark on HRT, as the new school year was starting, and I was studying labour and delivery, our first unit in emergency medicine, and one of my closest friends was having a baby, I was hit with what I've been calling baby fever (stole the term from a classmate).
I suddenly WANTED a baby in a way I never had before, and badly. I bawled my eyes out reading a textbook about emergency delivery strategies. Of course, I also knew immediately, that I could never have a baby in the way my body was screaming that it felt like I needed to.
Experiencing crushes with this in the background was a new thing too, I finally understood people saying they wanted to have someone's babies. Of course, I'm not sure how a trans girl could have a cis girl's babies with current medical tech/practices, but when has reason ever governed our wants?
It feels like lately, the baby fever has gotten tangled up into whatever old feelings and new feelings I have about my ex. I'm still hurting over the breakup, which is now almost 2½ years ago. I think part of it is that I really thought we were going to be together for the rest of our lives, even if I had trouble picturing my future past becoming a paramedic, I knew it was supposed to be with her. The relatively sudden stall in our relationship leading up to the breakup, happened so much faster than I was able to process anything in The Before Time™, so emotionally speaking, it caught me off guard, even if I did kind of see it coming intellectually.
Something I don't think I've said out loud anywhere, text or vocally, is that she broke my heart, and I don't know how to put it back together to move on.
Whenever I imagine having kids, it's still with her, if I think about her, if feels like my insides have all been scooped out. It's a feeling on a different level from the rejections over the last 6 months.
The scooped out feeling is kind of similar to the emptiness I feel whenever I face the fact that I can't bear children the way I want to.
(I also wanna talk about fertility and transness, but that's gonna be another post)
I don't want the only visualisation of my future I'm capable of to include her in that way, I NEED to move on, she clearly has, but I don't know how.
I've only dated one other person, and that relationship was so much shorter and had so many problems with us both lying to eachother and ourselves, that it just didn't have the same soul-crushing impact. I've really never been on casual dates, or even had a short fling. I went from that first relationship to a 4 year long one that I'd put all my hopes for the future into.
Sometimes I think cutting her out of my life a little more completely might help, but we were friends before we ever dated, and we're still friends now, and it's not fair to blame her for my inability to move on.
I also realise that when we do talk, I miss her so much as a friend, not just as a partner, and while talking to her helps with missing the person who was my best friend for 4½ years, it brings back up to the surface all these heartbroken feelings.
I've told her some of what I've been feeling, the definitely-new-crush feelings, mainly, and how important our friendship is to me. Part of me really wants us to get back together, but part of me recognises the hurt we did to eachother, and I don't know if we can rebuild on that? Then again, if soulmates are a thing, I'm pretty sure we would be? It's all so complicated feeling.
I'm pretty sure I talked about how I kinda fell for one of my friends on the last year as well, and sometimes I think maybe I could settle into the QPR that we kinda have, but I don't think that would even come close to fulfilling my romantic needs? And it really wouldn't be fair to either of us, even if I am desperate for affection.
I wanna be clear, I'm desperate for affection because that's just who I am, I need lots of it, and quarantine has only highlighted that. It has nothing to do with being trans and not having options.
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12 Things You Didn't Know About Milton H. Erickson and His Daughter Betty Alice Erickson
The impetus for this blog originated many years ago when I stopped at an all-night book store late one evening and walked away with a copy of Jay Haley's book, Uncommon Therapy: The Psychiatric Techniques of Milton H. Erickson, MD. That night I could hardly sleep as I read well into the wee hours of the morning. I knew that Dr. Erickson was doing something new, exciting, and creatively different than the rest of us. I couldn't wait until the next morning to ask one of my graduate professors about this master of psychotherapeutic intervention. As I shared my reading experience with my professor, he laughed and shook his head from left to right. He then cut me off as I was speaking. "Howard stop, listen, those eight psychosocial stages he talks about are totally useless when performing psychotherapy. Trust me, I've been doing counseling for years. Please don't waste another minute of your time on that useless stuff." I came away with two important conclusions. One, my professor clearly had no clue who Milton H. Erickson was, and wrongly believed I was talking about Erik Erikson. And two, for the sake of my GPA, I sure as hell wasn't going to point out his ignorance, nor would I share his thoughts with my Human Growth and Development course professor who thought the sun rises and sets around Erik Erikson's stages! In this brief blog, I am going to do a reality check and attempt to separate fact from fiction regarding this larger-than-life figure in the history of our field. Using 12 key questions I am going to touch base with the living person who knew Milton H. Erickson better than anybody on the planet—his daughter, Betty Alice Erickson. And, yes, she's a card-carrying published therapist who has conducted workshops around the world on Ericksonian therapy. She also served as co-editor with Bradford Keeney, Ph.D., for the book, Milton H. Erickson, M.D.: An American Healer, and she co-authored the text Hope and Resiliency: Psychotherapeutic Techniques of Milton H. Erickson, M.D. with Dan Short, Ph.D., and Roxanna Erickson Klein, RN, Ph.D., as well as contributing chapters and forewords for numerous books. Howard Rosenthal: Think back to when you were ten years old or so. If you had to describe your father in a few sentences what was he like as a parent? Was he strict, permissive, or supportive? Betty Alice Erickson: He was a typical father. He was too strict and not strict enough. We were allowed quite some freedom if we had demonstrated we could manage it. He stressed and valued hard work greatly. We always knew we were loved and he was interested in us and was proud of us. HR: So when you were having a problem or down in the dumps how would your father generally respond? BAE: This sort of goes back to the last question. Daddy was very clear that we were responsible for what was rightfully ours. If we had a problem, for instance, we would go to the home office door and stand. He was always working on something. He would finish his thought, and motion us to come in. Then we would shut the door, if we wanted, and sit down. He would then set his pencil down and from that moment he was totally attentive and helpful. When we had what we had come in for, he would pick up his pencil and say, "Anything else?" And that was it. I think this was a very valuable teaching. If you want something, you must ask or at least seek it. Then you get help or needed information or better understanding. But it is your job to ask for what you want. HR: Were you aware that he was a master therapist at a very young age and did that influence your decision to become a helper yourself? BAE: I am not sure any kid is really interested in their parent's work—unless they're participating in it. We used to read whatever he wrote, especially for the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis Journal, but only to see if he mentioned our names. As for me, I was a high-school teacher and gradually shifted into troubled adolescents—I even ran a self-contained school for the Department of Defense overseas, long before there were special programs for this. Later, I got tired of the increasing paperwork schools were requiring, so I figured out what I really liked—teaching and seeing people change and grow. I went back to school and became a licensed therapist and then a licensed supervisor. I have been lucky to have taught countless workshops all over the world—and I have never ceased to be humbled and amazed at how important and influential and truly "genius-y" Dad was. HR: In our field we always think of Milton H. Erickson as being a larger than life hero, but did he have any heroes growing up or when he entered into the psychotherapy field? Was there anybody who was a role model to him? BAE: I think Daddy carved his own pathway from the very beginning, and never varied from that. But he always made it clear he admired and respected honest, productive people who were open to learn more. HR: A lot of the textbooks imply that your father developed his keen sense of perception due to his health challenges in his childhood. Do you buy that position or do you think something else was going on? BAE: Daddy spent a year bedfast, paralyzed with polio, and had lots of time to think. He used to practice listening to people walk up to the house, trying to figure out—male or female, how old, who it was. Then when conversation began in another room, he would figure out if it were a social visit, if someone wanted a favor, who would be the first to directly address that. He never stopped practicing those type of skills. He began to move by practicing remembering how it felt to move his thumb and fingers together . . . and practicing that memory over and over until he actually saw a movement. He took off from there, with enormous dedication and even greater hard work. He had always keen visions of where he wanted to go in his life. With therapy, he did the same—what does the patient productively want? He was a farm boy, and would look at the "lay of the land," just as a farmer does to see if he can plant a productive crop. Then he would think about what he, and the patient, had to do to help get the best outcome. People call it speaking the other person's language; but it's more complex than that. In other words, he figured out where he wanted to be before he tried to get there. HR: Just like a child growing up wants to become the next Babe Ruth or Serena Williams, as therapists many of us still want to be Milton H. Erickson. Is that even possible or did he have special talents that the average helper could not ever hope to possess? For example, a therapist who saw your Dad performing therapy once told me it blew his mind. He said your father was such an adept helper it was like he possessed psychic powers or telepathy. What was the main thing that separated him from the average, everyday therapist working in a private practice or agency setting? BAE: Daddy definitely did not have psychic powers, and it annoyed him when people asked him that. But more to the point of your question, he believed people were too infinitely varied to be classified in any theory—certainly the kind of clients we usually see. He never forgot to listen to the patient and hear what he was really saying, which is another skill which he constantly honed. The more I practice, the more I recognize clients always tell you what they want, maybe clumsily, maybe hidden, but if you're interested and really listen without thinking about you, or how it fits in the theory you're constructing (or using), you hear it. That's one thing. Another is he truly cared about his patients. He was unafraid to tell them things about him—to share certain things about himself. Today that's often seen as a "violation of boundaries." I was once chastised by a supervisor because my client, a professional astrologer, asked my birth date and I told her. My supervisor said it was inappropriate sharing of personal information. Nonsense! That's merely human beings connecting. That human connection is absolutely vital to good therapy, to a good relationship. Last but far from least, he genuinely liked his patients. He recognized they had made the best of what they knew how to do, and they wanted to make themselves better—even if they phrased it that they wanted someone else to do something. You can't convey these kinds of connection unless you, the therapist, can genuinely offer yourself. It's a hard skill to teach because when you connect, you become vulnerable and many people don't like to be vulnerable. They mis-define it as opening yourself to personal rejection. But it's not. HR: As a therapist who used a lot of hypnosis myself I can't help asking: How does Ericksonian hypnosis differ from the garden variety practiced by nearly everybody else in the field? BAE: Michael Yapko once told me that Dad re-defined hypnosis. It isn't what someone "does to someone else"—it is a co-created relationship between two people. Most of his students understand and teach that. However, people who don't understand his work are often not real comfortable with a non-rigid pattern of hypnosis. Daddy also relied on a conversational trance, which is so so easy to create and has most of the attributes of a formal trance even though it is far more flexible. A true Ericksonian knows his unconscious and the subject's unconscious are integral parts of all trance states. Even more structured ones, as in pain management, have to be crafted with the subject in mind. HR: Did the textbook authors like Haley, Bandler, Grinder, Rossi and others get it right? I say that because I've have heard you hint in the past that some of the literature and workshops weren't quite accurate and might have misrepresented what Dr. Erickson was doing. BAE: Some of the them "get it"—many, many do not. When people try to make Daddy's work a 1,2, and then a 3 and 4 . . .it is not Dad's usual type of work. First, Dad's work expands available options. Word choices are extremely important because most words carry many meanings. It can be very direct, but it is also very indirect. It looks at the whole picture as well as specifics within that bigger landscape. The problem is the client's, the solution has to be the client's. Our skill as a therapist lies in creating the best, truthful, and most attractive options. With an expanded field of those options, most clients do the right thing for them. Most-- clearly not all. Then you have to do, say, offer things differently. HR: When you read about Milton H. Erickson you get the feeling he could treat almost anybody of any age, with virtually any problem. Today there seems to be a push for specialization . . . you know, a therapist has to be a specialist in suicide prevention to help suicidal kids, or an expert in eating disorders is required to help an adult who is bulimic etc. What would your father think about this model? Is it limited and would he think it is inaccurate? BAE: I don't know what Daddy would think. I know he totally believed that AA was an excellent resource for alcoholics, and he referred people there regularly, as do I. But I think he would think that this mini-specialization ignores that we all have experience with some level of most problems. There are some issues which probably do require specially trained people like a protocol for dealing with severe PTSD for recent trauma. But I know he thought problems are problems. We can probably help most people --while remembering to remember our own limitations. HR: What would your Dad say about the emphasis on big Pharma today? It is nearly impossible to watch a television show or pick up a magazine without seeing an ad for some sort of psychiatric prescription medicine. BAE: He definitely knew sometimes people need meds for mental health. After all, he worked at the Colorado State Institution for the Criminally Insane for his medical residency—long before psychotropic drugs existed. We older children also grew up living in state mental institutions where he worked early on—even we knew there are people who genuinely need something more than talk-therapy. But Big Pharma for everything?—the only truism about medication is that they have side effects which I think is sometimes forgotten. With that aside, how are we going to learn to deal with life, which is often not to our liking, if we only know how to medicate our discomfort, our pain away? We forget pain can be a wonderful teacher. Even little kids quickly learn that if you touch a hot stove, you'll have pain. HR: Okay, tell us something about your Dad we don't know that might surprise us. BAE: There has been so much written about him that I really don't know except trivial things like he loved limburger cheese which is the most terrible smelling cheese in the world and has to be kept in the refrigerator where it stinks up everything. Or, he contributed anecdotes for years to a "humor/human-interest" column in the Detroit Daily Newspaper under the name of Eric the Badger. He loved puns and, what all we kids considered, stupid jokes and riddles. And kept a little notebook so he wouldn't forget them, which I now have. HR: Eric the Badger. Wow, I'll need to check that out. Okay, I know you carved out 10 life rules from your Daddy's teachings. 1. Life is hard work. 2. Life is unfair. 3. Life is filled with pain. 4. Everything ends. 5. Every choice costs. 6. The law of averages is usually correct—that's why it's called the law of averages. 7. Change is the only constant. 8. It is what's in our head and heart that really matters. 9. What we receive in life depends on merit—and good or bad luck—or a combination. 10. Life was made for Amateurs. If you had to single out one rule that has been the most important in your own life what would it be and why? BAE: That is genuinely hard. The one my clients usually hate is #9—but it, like the others, is true. Dot.com millionaires worked genuinely hard, but had they been born five years earlier or later, they wouldn't have had such success. I guess the best for me is #7. Change is the only constant. This is miserable—it'll change. This is wonderful? Savor and love it because it too will change. HR: Betty Alice, this has been great. Thanks for sharing these gems of wisdom. BAE: Thank you! You've made me think and organize my thoughts as well as have even more appreciation for my good fortune in life. from http://www.psychotherapy.net/blog/title/12-things-you-didn-t-know-about-milton-h.-erickson-and-his-daughter-betty-alice-erickson
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