#whenever my summer vacation would end i would always get extra sad about it because it reminded me of roxas

[elliejoys]

The journey of Roxas

#khgraphics #roxas #kingdom hearts #kh3 spoilers #myedit #mygifs #it was a long and painful road #but he's back now that's all that matters :') #whenever my summer vacation would end i would always get extra sad about it because it reminded me of roxas #i literally cried so much seeing him return i had to pause the game asfadsfg #my son is finally back and i only had to wait more than a decade for it *cries* #also fun fact i changed the coloring like four times before i was satisified #because roxas deserves nothing but the best

[vagarius]

misukazu 21

(if you saw me fuck up the other one no you didnt)

EDIT I THINK THIS ONE GOT A LITTLE FUCKED UP TOO BUT IT’S... READABLE...

questions from this post, and answers originally written for this thread!!

If you had to change the pairing’s very first meeting, how would you change it?    their canon first meeting is already so good SHDGFLJASHG but if i had to choose a different one that's still within the context of mankai... meeting as kids and losing touch and coming back together completely different at mankai

What song fits your pairing the most?    uhhHHhhHHH i don't have a real answer but i do have a partial playlist for one of my misukazu aus and the only two songs in it are furaregai girl by sayuri and champagne's for celebrating by mayday parade and i feel like that says enough sldhgalsdhfalsh

What is your favorite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?     ALL MISUKAZU AUS ARE GOOD but. i really love any au where their first meeting is in the future and both are still kind of lost but they're Older and it's hard to let themselves fall into the easy trust they find in canon. i just think that'd be neat.

Do you prefer canon ideas or do you have your own headcanons for them?     I'VE SAID THIS MANY TIMES BUT CANON MISUKAZU GIVES OFF MADE FOR EACH OTHER VIBES AND USUALLY I DON'T VIBE WITH THAT BUT THEY REALLY ARE WHAT THE OTHER NEEDS... AND I THINK EVEN IF THEY HAD TO PART THEY'D STILL BE ABLE TO BE BETTER PEOPLE BC THEY HAD MET

Favorite canon moment of them?     THERE ARE SO MANY but the one that immediately comes to mind is misumi carrying drunk kazu to bed (latest bday line) because drunk kazu is so soft and it implies that misumi wanted to wish happy birthday to kazu pretty late... what did he want to give him...

Least favorite canon moment of them?     hmm... there's not really one i can think of??? IM SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY I LOVE ALL THEIR CANON MOMENTS

Favorite headcanon trope/idea? (Your own or someone else’s)    this is somehow both vague and very specific but i think misukazu gives off this vibe: He's beautiful. I can't tell him. or "Kazu is always beautiful~" Don't call me that, Kazu thinks. I'm not. so... insecurities i guess ????? AJSHAJJD

Favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics?     THIS IS GOING TO SOUND SO CHEESY but i love how /real/ they allow themselves to be around each other. misukazu at their best is when one thinks "you're you. and i love that you" and the other knows this. i just. THEY VALIDATE THE OTHER SO MUCH CRIES

Least favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics? (Can be headcannon)     this isn't a "least fav" so much as "it makes me sad" but if either of them showed any sign of not being interested anymore the other is more likely to give up then push anything. sort of like "it was bound to happen, so i'll enjoy now until they drop me" or EVEN WORSE they think the other would be better off without them and pushes them away. so yeah the fact i can see one of these happening makes me sad.

If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?     they give off "everyone knows we're dating but us" energy but at the same time i feel like they'd acknowledge there's something and just not define it bc a) they don't need to (misumi) or b) they're too nervous to (kazu). in other words i think one day they are holding hands and misumi says "kazu? is this dating?" and kazu holds his breath before asking "do you want it to be?"

If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?     i think theyd be hilarious in any sports animanga (kazu is manager tho bc noodle arms but maybe they bond when misumi walks him through some of his usual training menu one night - ahem. anyway) BUT ALSO horimiya au...

How hard is it write/draw your pairing? Scale of 1-10.     AJDHAJDHSF I REALLY LOVE THEM SO IT COMES PRETTY EASILY... but sometimes you try to put them in tropes and realize they would Just Not Work Like That. idk where i'm going with this. but yeah. anyway 3 for sankaku.

Is there a pairing that you think rivals them?     in terms of what i ship, i tend to ship kazu and misumi individually with a lot of dif charas AJDHAKD. but in terms of like... in-universe "rival" pairings: kazu side: tsuzukazu (maybe, lbr it would take them 273924 yrs to actually get together), kazu x someone from winter (i... have my reasons but they'd take longer than what this answer entails) misumi side: ... surprisingly none that i can think of ahdjahd

Which character of the pairing do you like more? (Would you ever pair yourself with them?)     you know that tweet that's like "sometimes a ship is just your two favs"? yeah that's misukazu for me. but if i had to choose... misumi AJDHAJHDSF I HONESTLY WASNT THAT INTO YUME UNTIL THESE TWO CAME AROUND (NOT COUNTING 707)... but yeah if they wanted to hold me in their arms i wouldn't oppose

Which character of your pairing would be the one to break up with the other? Why?     OOOOOH BOY well. i think it could be either of them. i don't think they'd break up for lack of love but too much love and wanting the other to be happy and thinking that the only way to give them that is to let them go. so i guess the question is which of them would be more likely to be selfish and hold on. thinking this way, i think misumi would be more likely to break-up, bc kazu has lots of friends who are better than him!! and misumi is more ready to leave if he thinks he needs to than kazu is. now im sad.

Are they relatable as characters or as a pairing?     THE NUMBER OF TIMES I'VE BEEN CALLED KAZU KIN... in all seriousness kazu's struggles with speaking out and (shinobi spoilers) his uncertainty over his future hit real close to home... while i don't relate as much as misumi, his struggles always manage to tear my heart into pieces... ((oversharing alert) i guess what really separates me from misumi is his struggle with his desire to connect with family who has treated him poorly... whereas im more "lol fuck you") tldr i relate to kazu slightly more LOL

Did you once/ever dislike one/both of them?     i never disliked them but i was NOT expecting either of them to shoot up so quickly into my favs list ahdjahdjf. also i started shipping them Immediately After reading summer main story so there's that

On an estimate, how many posts have you made about them?    as of september 28th 2020 i make up 11/78 fics on ao3 in the romantic misukazu tag and 2/12 in the platonic one. i may have brainrot.

What made you decide to ship them?     TBH I FINISHED THE MAIN STORY AND WENT "OH MY GOD... THAT'S MY SHIP" but now that i'm here i continue to ship them because they have the potential to bring out both the best and the worst in each other and i'm all about that

Favorite genre for them? (Angst, fluff, etc.)     angst. i just. angst hurt/comfort all the way. im so sorry babies.

lol you thought there would just be 21 ANYWAY EXTRA 1: how do they spend breaks/vacation?    they'd travel a lot when they're older!! kazunari loves to travel and misumi would follow kazunari anywhere (also, new triangles!!) so they go somewhere new whenever they have the time. however i think eventually one or both of their future careers will take them anywhere and everywhere anyway, so their "ideal vacation" might turn into an evening in, cuddling and catching up (as if they didn't already send play-by-play updates over the phone of whatever they did during the day)

EXTRA 2: first date?     i don't they ever have an explicit first date, but if asked they'll cite the time they had a picnic in the park turned triangle hunt turned accidental dip in the duck pond. at least, kazunari will. misumi just tilts his head and wonders what you mean.

EXTRA 3: gifts?     IM FEELING REALLY CHEESY SO I'M MAKING THIS ABOUT ANNIVERSARY GIFTS they both end up getting each other jewelry (although kazu was really really nervous bc he wasn't sure if misumi would wear it). kazu gets misumi a bracelet (with triangles, of course although misumi only wears it sometimes because he doesn't want to lose it) and misumi gets kazu a pair of triangle earrings "so we can match!" and kazunari combusts at the implications

EXTRA 4: sharing clothes     THEY'RE ACTUALLY AROUND THE SAME SIZE (and tend to wear baggier stuff barring kazu's skinny jeans)... but they have completely different Styles so it's still really obvious when steal each other's stuff ahdjajdkaf. as cute as kazu would look in sumi's sweatshirt i think the much more likely scenario is kazu wrapping misumi in his jackets because this boy nEVER BRINGS HIS ANYWHERE anyway just. accidental shared wardrobe misukazu.

EXTRA 5: lake house au    consider: kazunari living in a house on the shore of a lake for a summer for Art Purposes (and a little bit for Dealing With Life purposes but he's not gonna admit that) and meets his lake neighbor misumi who kazu thinks might be a ghost or spirit for a while but he actually just lives further down the lake and misumi unknowingly helps kazu with his Life Issues and maybe they fall in love

#a3 #misukazu #kazumisu #ikaruga misumi #miyoshi kazunari #a3! #act! addict! actors! #headcanons #ernb its me

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 55

~*~Sebastian~*~

I stared at her. Stunned. I'm not sure if it's how the conversation went or she wants me and whatever comes with me. Emma is so intentional. Her words carry meaning. She wants to be clear and asks for clarity. This is heaven for my overthinking brain. I’m not stuck wondering what she means nor am I afraid to ask. Because I know she'll answer. Really answer.

"I've got eight years on you, how are you the more mature one?"

"Stabilizing influence and frighteningly direct communication of my second dad."

The expression on her face and deadpanned delivery had me laughing. "I can see that. I'll be the emotionally reactive one and you can be the calming one." Then I remembered. "Although, Eli did tell a story about you laying into some guy in Hawaii at a volleyball game. Ed dumped you in the ocean. I wish there was video."

"There is. You'll have to get dad to send it to you."

Tuesday was a good day. Workout was hard and my abs were already sore, but we'd laughed a lot. Good phone call with mom. The house had come together, she was enjoying some time in the pool, and she'd picked up some piano students. My afternoon was spent in my manager, Emily's, office. Mostly she and I, but a few conference calls. I was about to be busy. The next six weeks I was more gone than home. I was excited about the work. Excited to see friends.

Admittedly, the timing wasn't the greatest, new relationship and all, but I was confident we'd figure it out. This is different. I'd like to say it was because my previous experience is whining and bitching about me being gone so long, knowing I was going to pay for the distance, and trying to front-load my leaving to make it more palatable. While all of those all true, the actual difference is I care. The emotionally unavailable hot and cold thing comes into play here. I put up a wall to block the whining and bitching, not really listening, because it's my job. Bitching at me isn’t going to change anything and I’m not going to feel guilty for doing my job. Well, I do, but it just pisses me off because I shouldn’t.  The expectation of gifts, dinners, or a vacation to make up for being gone made those a lot less fun. And I was never successful at cramming a bunch of stuff in before I left, because my work didn't start when I left. It starts weeks before. I don’t leave for filming for a month, but I’m already prepping: gym reading, watching things, research, and studying the script. I get pretty singularly focused. I don't know any other way. And when pushed I shut down. I don't respond. I brood. And I appear cold. None of this is right. Some just is. Some is my fault. Getting to where I didn't care about her (any of the previous hers) feelings and concerns with me gone was a side effect of shutting down and I regret doing that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her feelings. It was feeling ineffectual to do anything about it and my self-protection kicking in. Looking back, saying effectively “deal with it” was incredibly insensitive. Not proud of it.

But now, sitting here looking at my schedule I’m finding places I can find some time for us. We’ll figure it out. I can tell you what won’t happen. Emma won't whine where I block her out. She's not going to emotionally blackmail me for things, which will make me want to give. And she’ll leave me alone to prep, let me bounce things off her, or cook something to remind me to eat. I need all of those. I care how Emma's going to feel about me being gone. I care about what we’ve begun and how we'll keep in touch. I also know that while I'm away she will carry on living the life she had before she had me and be just fine.

Emma had practice tonight and a game tomorrow. It was after eight when she called. She was in a tank top and her hair was wet from her shower. I caught up on her day before leading into mine. "I have good news and bad news."

"OK." Emma drug out the word, wary of my response.

"When I get back from Canada, I've got some time to spend with you. Then I’m gone for the month of July. Fashion show, audition and meetings, comic con, then filming in Rome." Playing off last night’s conversation, I added. "I'm not expecting a bad reaction."

"Well, that's good." Her hand moved toward the screen and I chose to believe she was touching my face. "I'II miss you, but I’m excited for you. And me getting to hear about what you're doing. Living vicariously."

I'd had some time to think. I had a lot of thoughts on plans. This was the soonest.  "You get back Tuesday, doubleheader Wednesday, and I get back late Thursday. What's your weekend look like?"

"Empty. I'll come to you. You'll barely be home if you come here. I can come anytime Friday. I'll be done with work except maybe packing up my room. I can do that whenever."

"Early Friday. Thursday night." I wanted to maximize our time. "I have to do some work."

"I can amuse myself."

"Maybe the shop you liked so much will be having a sale?" I laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "July fourth weekend I'm at a fashion show. Wanna go to Paris?"

"What?" Her face moved closer to the screen. I’d surprised her.

"Not necessarily Paris, but near. The third is the show. Have you been to Paris?"

"Family spent the summer in Europe when we were thirteen. Then Pearl Jam tours. Love Paris."

"Not much more than a long weekend, but museums and I'm sure we can find some romantic Paris shit to do."

"I would love to go to Paris with you."

That was good because I'd already made reservations. "California for about two weeks then straight to Italy for at least that. Depends on how long shooting takes. Hopefully back in time to join you in Chicago. Then nothing until the end of August. Will and I had been talking about a group of us going away. We were waiting for my schedule. What do you think about a group trip and we stay a little longer or go off alone? It would be a beach somewhere."

"You going to rub sunscreen on me?"

"Um yay, part of my volleyball job. Beer bitch and sunscreen applier."

“I’m in."

"End of August is a Disney thing. Labor Day weekend is the Toronto Film Fest. Little stuff in there, nothing big. No idea past then."

She laughed, eyes wide, and moving her head in all directions "It's crazy like a tour schedule. I'm jealous. I love touring."

"I thought about Rome, but the schedule's tight. You wouldn't see me."

"I wasn't trying for an invite. I'll get some of my summer PD hours done so I won't have to worry about them. Make sure I've got time for us."

I leaned back on the couch, "That was easy."

She glared at me. "I thought you weren't expecting a bad reaction?"

I shook my head, "No, no, I wasn't. Just an observation. Thought I might have to talk you into the beach." I held it a second before smiling, "Not really. I do know it’s a lot."

"I will always go to a beach."

"You’re not allowed to play volleyball."

"Did you get the video from dad?"

"About an hour ago." I'd enjoyed it several times. "You're a feisty little thing."

Wednesday was a day of pictures and texts. After the gym, I settled in my extra room to prep. I had my laptop on the table, a stack of books on top of my script, and a huge bottle of water. I took a picture and posted it to Instagram along with one of me with a pencil between my teeth and pulling my hair.

Emma ~ How'd you get a picture of your expression during your last blow job?

Sebastian ~ Hidden camera in bedroom. You should see the other things I have. Coupling Season 1. "The Cupboard of Patrick's Love."

Emma ~ “You really don't have enough blood for both ends of your body, do you?"

Sebastian ~ Very good, Sally.

 Love that she can quote one of my favorite shows.

After lunch, Emma posted a picture of her in the middle of a group hug with her students. "I'll miss my munchkins.”  I sent a sad face emoji.

Then I fell into a hole. I got pulled into my research and reading and the next time I picked up my phone it was one a.m. I need time like this and put my phone on do not disturb. The only thing that comes through is two calls from the same number within a few minutes. Anyone important knows how to reach me. Emma knew, but she didn't. Not even when the Demonic Crickets won their game. She posted several pictures, but I got a much better one in a text. Emma with her back to the camera in her team tank, arm up flexing her bicep, and her looking over her shoulder smiling at me. The gold flecks in her eyes were sparkling and the darker ring made the green more intense.

Emma ~ Hope you're getting a lot done. Internally anyway.  XOXO

Sebastian ~ * 12 hours later * Yeah, I did. I'm hungry. Congrats on the win. Picture is beautiful.

Sebastian ~ You're beautiful

 Her thank you came while I was working out. After a shower, I fell back into my hole until it was time for therapy.

I'd been seeing Celie for a long time. Frequency varied. She had a dark brown bob, glasses, and a round face. At this point, I could read her as well as she could me. If she was looking at me over her glasses, she thought I was full of shit. No words needed. She was about ten years older than me and her style worked for me. It was a great one-sided friendship.

I took my regular spot on the blue couch, "How are you today, Celie?"

Celie smiled. She had the unconditional positive regard thing down. I say that, but she does genuinely like me. Most of the time. I can be a pain in the ass. "I've had a good day and after you I get to go home. You seem to be in a good mood. Tell what's going on with you, Seb."

I was always her last client of the day. Sometimes I needed more than an hour. "I am in a good mood. I met somebody. Last time I saw you I was going to help my parents move. I met Emma there. In a grocery store, if you can believe that."

"Sounds like you can't."

"I asked her to dinner in under fifteen minutes."

She widened her eyes in disbelief. Exactly my point. "Did you? Good for you, Seb. A complete stranger. What led you to ask her out?"

"I was all covered up and she tells me I looked like a rehab patient checking into the clinic up the road. But she was kind to me. A sketchy stranger. She didn’t know who I was until we were outside and I introduced myself. She helped me find the things on my list and we chatted." I put my hands in front of my chest, fingers splayed. "She felt good. I didn't know why, just enough that I knew I wanted to know more.”

“And what do you know now?”

I spent the next several minutes telling Celie the salient points. We’ve been doing this long enough that explaining isn’t necessary. She’ll recognize why things are important. My face hurt from smiling after I was finished talking about Emma. I stopped short of the whole conversation on Sunday.

“Besides the obvious early relationship high, how are you feeling about all this?”

“Good. Happy. Hopeful. The only concerning thing was Saturday I woke up from a night terror, panic attack. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, wrote for a while, and once Emma got up I went for a run.”

“Even with being happy, there’s been quite a bit of emotional activity. I’m pleased that you’ve only woken up once. Much better. What do you suspect triggered you?”

I took a deep breath, “Emma and I wound up in this conversation Sunday afternoon. A couple of my friends at the party had told her I wasn’t acting like I normally do with women, but more like I am with friends. This led to a conversation about my relationship issues. I’m not the same with her. She really doesn’t know that version of me. I think that’s why I had the anxiety. It was the night after the party but before the conversation. First time we’d been around my friends. I think it was not because I’m scared, but because I’m not. Like you said, there’s been a lot of emotional shit going on and I’m good. Remarkably good.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Emma is different. She’s incredibly kind and is . . . gentle. Not weak though. She’s strong.”

Celie shook her head, “When I think of gentle people it’s a combination. They can be painfully truthful, but their manner makes others able to listen. They have a compassion for others.”

“Exactly! I noticed she knew everyone. She talked to everyone and used their name. I asked and she said she looked at their nametags and you never know what someone’s day has been. That might be the first nice thing that’s happened all day. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s her. She’s like that with me. She doesn’t try to talk me out of being anxious or overthinking. She doesn’t think my insecurities are stupid. They’re all just part of me.”

“She accepts you.”

“Right. The more we got to know each other, the more we talked, I felt safe. She doesn’t do those things I usually shut down over. I don’t feel the need to protect myself. She’s very different.”  Celie was looking at me over her glasses. Uh oh. “You’re giving me the look.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?  I thought I was doing good. I asked out a stranger and got this amazing woman.”

“Sebastian, as quick as you are to fault yourself, you’re slow to take credit.”

“Take credit?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “You think this relationship is different because of Emma. You lucked out and met an accepting, kind, gentle person.”

“Yes. No. Both. Emma is different and she makes me different.”

Celie made a loud, jarring beeping noise. This was new.

“Ok, I guess I’m wrong.”

“You are. Not completely. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Any credit. You’ve worked very hard. You’ve read. You’ve journaled. You’ve talked. You’ve done things I’ve asked you to even if you didn’t understand or want to. I’ve seen you grow. To give responsibility for this relationship being different all to Emma is dangerous. What’s going to happen when she falls off this pedestal you’ve put her on? Is that going to be an excuse to shut down and protect yourself? Fall back on old habits.”

I could feel my eyebrows pulled down and the scowl on my face. “So you’re saying this isn’t as good as I think it is.”

“Not at all. I’m saying it’s got as much to do with you as it does her. Previously you would have never asked out a woman you met in a grocery. But that seems to be the furthest you’re going with how you’re different. I do not believe for one second that no other woman you’ve gone out with has been kind and accepting. Or would have been if you would have been able to show them you.  You used to do things to test them. You’d say or do things to see how they’d react. As we’ve talked, you weren’t being real, so you don’t know that their reactions were.”

I nodded then looked down, “I know. Pretty manipulative.”  I felt Celie’s hand on my arm and looked back up. Her face was very soft with a smile.

“Stop, Seb. You need to be proud of yourself. You are doing things differently. You have learned from your past, grown, and come a long way in accepting yourself. Warts and all. You have shown Emma who you are, even the parts you don’t like so much. She can have credit for how she’s responded to you, but you deserve the credit for being brave enough to show her in an honest and authentic way. That allowed her to respond in an equally honest and authentic way.”

I grabbed a tissue from the ever-present box on the table and wiped the wet from my face. Neither the first nor the last time I’d cry in this room.

"If you had met her even a year ago, with her exactly as she is now, this relationship would be very different."

"The wedding."

"Excuse me?"

Yeah, non sequitur. "I was supposed to go to a friend’s wedding last summer but didn't because there was a change in my shooting schedule. Emma was at the wedding. You're right. Had I met her then," I shook my head. “I wouldn't have been ready for her and now could have never happened."

Celie shrugged, "Probably not."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "How do I get her off this pedestal I’ve put her on?"

"You seem pretty smitten. Maybe not take her off, just lower it a little." I laughed and she went on. "What you do is own your part. You have been making choices to improve yourself. You have been making choices to go out of your comfort zone. And you have been making choices to let her know you. Emma's been making similar choices to be with you. I'm sure you know what she's come through to be where she is. It seems like you complement each other. Recognize this is both of you waking up and choosing to be with each other. Talk and negotiate what that means. Tell her what you want. And when you're not talking you listen. Listen to what she needs from you. The most important for you is to keep processing the feelings with her. She's the only one who can help those make a picture. And you need to give her the same gift. She has things she’s not so proud of and afraid for you to know about her. We all do. You will need to accept her and treat her with gentle kindness she gives you.”

I was crying again. "She told me. I told her she was different than the others. She asked if maybe I was different."

Celie snickered, "I like her."

"You would. She speaks therapy."

"I want to be very clear, Seb. She sounds wonderful and she may make you better. You sound wonderful and I bet you make her better too. That’s how it should work in a relationship. You help each other along. It takes two people with self-awareness making choices to do what it takes. You both have to choose growth, honestly, humility, vulnerability, and sacrifice. I hear you holding up your end. I’ve not heard you do this before. And while she may be the right woman, you've become the right man. Please, please, do not underestimate how much work you've put in to become the right man for another person.”

"I want to go home and cry for an hour or so."

"I wish Emma was here for you."

I shook my head with a grimace, "It's going to be ugly until I get it out."

"Yes. I think Emma would want to be there to hold you and you'd find more acceptance and comfort in that than you can imagine."

At home, I grabbed a beer, sank down in my favorite chair, and cried. I felt everything all at once but fought to untangle the threads. Sad was remnants of the past and dissipated quickly. Its friends regret and shame fought a little harder to stick around, but they were toxic and needed to go. Pride and relief were together too. Celie was right. I had worked hard. An infinite number of hours had gone into figuring myself out. There have been so many times I thought I'd be stuck forever. Sometime in the last two years that I've been without a girlfriend, all the work must have come together. In the last two years I've been filming almost nonstop. Five movies have come out. Two of which were Marvel circuses. It's like all the therapy (and the work that goes with it) knitted me back together while I was busy filming and living my life. Celie had told me to trust the process. I couldn't rush it or make changes happen before it was time. Patience. I am inherently impatient. Pride was for the work. Relief was for seeing results. Finally.

Next was happy. I’m in a good place. I'm excited about the movie I’m making. I have supportive, fun friends, and a loving family. I don't need a girlfriend to be happy, but one does bring everything together. I like having a person who is mine. Mine in the sense of us experiencing life together. The good and bad. I like that. I want that. And now I have it. The beginnings of it, anyway.

After I pulled my shit together, I wanted to talk to Emma. I wanted support. Maybe not support, but I felt raw. I wanted someone to soothe the raw nerves, to sit with me while all this new stuff integrated. I wish she was here. What I needed was a hug.

Sebastian ~ Can you talk?

I don't like that I asked. It feels insecure and I have zero reasons to feel insecure. I quickly decided to cut myself some slack.

My phone rang and I connected to FaceTime. "Hey." Her bright smile and obvious happiness to see me did wonders to soothe those raw nerves.

Emma's face went from a smile to wide-eyed concern. "Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look like you've been crying. What happened?" Before I could answer, she jumped to a correct conclusion. "You had therapy. Good, bad, or cathartic tears?"

"Mostly the last one."

Her hand went to her chest, "Ok." She picked up what I assumed was her iPad and crossed to the chair in her bedroom. I could see her pull her knees up when she put her feet on the ottoman. She rested the iPad on her knees.

"Mostly a repeat of what we talked about Sunday. Celie said I wasn't giving myself enough credit for the work I've done. My growth."

As Emma had alluded to the same thing, I expected a smile or some acknowledgment of her asking if I was different. Instead, I got, "What do you think?"

"I think I still need to work on not being so hard on myself." I smiled because that statement was me still being hard on myself. "When Celie pointed out how I've changed I could see it and was proud of myself. I can’t see it on my own yet, but I'll get there. I never thought anyone would get past my walls. It wasn't someone getting in, it was me getting out." More goddamned tears.

Emma reached out and touched the screen. "I‘m so happy for you. Proud of you too."

Her words felt like a hug. Close enough for now. "Thank you."

"I know you're a grown man, but I wish I was there. Crying alone sucks."

"Oh," I laughed a little, "the chances of us having a messy reunion are high."

"Why?"

"A lot of you and I talk today. I know me, it's gonna hit me when I see you."

"I should warn you. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."

I smiled at her exaggerated southern accent with the "Steel Magnolias" quote. "See ... gonna be messy."

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

[dandelliongirl]

What a year

2020 was..

The last time I wrote anything it was April, and now it is the 23rd of December and I’m about to go spend Christmas with my family. My last failed attempt at christmas bread is in the oven (for some reason it didn’t proof at all, I guess I put too much flour in..) and I’m cooking up some Christmas porridge on the stove. Watch me burn that in a moment too.. For some reason this whole autumn has been a very stressful disaster. I am still working from home and just logged myself off of work until the 7th of January 2021. Maybe because I’ve been working from home it feels difficult to get into holiday mode. At least we got some snow today so it looks beautiful.

Spring and summer 2020 were an absolute dream! With no responsibilities and the possibility to work from anywhere I got to spend so much time with my family and at our summer house away from the stress of the real world. I could not have dreamt of a better summer, and apart from strawberry picking (at an actual farm, not just from my own strawberry plants) I got to finish off my summer’s to-do list. I even made a cute little summer video with my old Canon EOS 100D (yes - I have a new Canon EOS 90D now!). Endless days of exploration, swimming, biking, sauna, gardening, having lunch with the midsummer roses, baking rhubarb galettes with my own rhubarb from the garden, biking to the ice cream van, SUP-boarding with dad and spending so much time outdoors made me happier than I could ever be. I cannot believe how many beautiful things COVID has given me despite it’s awful impact on the world.

The start of the autumn semester was chaotic to say the least. Practically all of our system integrations are behind one developer, and he happened to be on vacation when everything went down, and study rights did not transfer correctly. This lead to an insane rush of support requests across the board, and lots of extra stress. I was exhausted and scared after last autumn’s disasters and definitely didn’t need another one to start the new semester. I’m starting to seriously fear August... Other universities have tens of people in their technical support, and we have TWO (sometimes 3). In more positive news I was given a permanent job contract starting August, which was amazing, and makes me so grateful especially during a year when many lose their jobs and get laid off. I guess that also contributes to my levels of stress as I cannot hide behind “I just work here for another few months”, but I have to actually take responsibility and ownership as a permanent team member.

Basically a lot of things escalated at work this autumn because our entire staff is way over burdened with COVID changes and the systems not working in an ideal fashion. Because our organisation does not have clear and defined process ownerships many changes come alongside the implementation of new systems, which puts me as a system admin (and not a process expert) in an awkward position. Hopefully our organisation will be able to develop and reconfigure responsibilities with some outside help, but for some reason my hopes aren’t very high.. All in all the anger and frustration of the organisation has been reflecting on the way people treat us and each other and as an empath it has been very exhausting. Luckily my new team is amazing and I’m having so much fun working with them - even though we aren’t physically working together at the office. I cannot imagine how it would be if my previous colleague hadn’t left. I hope she is happy and thriving as well!

All in all what got me through the autumn was the fact that I got to work from home. Being able to take a 10-15 minute nap when things got overwhelming pretty much saved me. Also the fact that I can wear whatever, make tea or snacks whenever I need to and don’t have to spend time moving from one location to the other. My guy got his own computer desk and a proper chair, and we’ve both been working from our very crammed but cozy livingroom. Even though our hobbies have been on and off I’ve gotten a few moments to myself and have also gotten used to doing my thing even though he is always here. No big relationship drama apart from the occasional little argument.

Ballet and body combat got to continue in person for most of the season. The last couple of weeks of ballet classes were on Teams, and the last body combat class was on Facebook with the season ending a couple of weeks early, but other than that having hobbies outside the house definitely helped. I have also loved having my ballet friend stay home instead of studying abroad. Obviously it sucks for her because it has meant a lot of changes to her plans, but I’ve needed her so much, and enjoyed our walks, hanging out together, going to ballet and the hours we spent outside talking on our way back. Ballet classes have been pretty easy as we only go to pointe and adult classes, but at least we are having fun together, and I like to somewhat maintain my skills even though I am not improving by miles. It’s also easier for the body as I’m definitely no longer a teenager. Starting next year we’ll have a fancy new studio!

After the relaxing summer it has definitely felt like I don’t have enough hours in a day or days in a week to do everything I need to. I cannot believe how I used to do all this and so much more pre-COVID but I guess it’s all because Animal Crossing didn’t take anywhere between 30 minutes to 5-8 hours a day. Oops. Needless to say I have been loving ACNH even though the Halloween and Turkey Day events were a bit too easy compared to New Leaf. I have high hopes for Toy Day tomorrow (YIKES! TOMORROW?) even though I haven’t had to go through the usual process of noting down all my villagers’ wishes, which I definitely miss. I am sad the diy recipe RNG has been so bad though. I’ve spent a couple of days spawning balloons on my beach, and never got the big Christmas tree diy in time. Maybe I’ll get it tonight but it’s definitely too late for this year.. Maybe next year then. I didn’t struggle this much with the maple and mush series diys..

So yeah, last summer me and my friend finished our old photography project and I edited the last sets of photos to give the finished book for her as a Christmas present. I love the project a lot because the learning curve is so apparent between photoshoots, and I found my “style” throughout the process. My EOS 100D started to get weird electronical bugs and definitely wasn’t running very well anymore, so after insane amounts of research I decided to get the EOS 90D from a Black Friday sale. I still need a memory card and a new camera bag for it since it’s so much bigger, but I’ve already planned out some future photoshoots and the theme of the new project, which can be described as “Adventure”, “Expedition” or “Discovery”. I just hope my friend will have time to model for me because I’m yearning to go try my new camera out.

My boyfriend and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary with a friend couple who started dating a week after we did. We took an extended weekend trip to a national park, a spa and a rental cabin. It was so much fun and a very special way to celebrate 10 years together. Especially with an exceptional year like this one has been.

Yesterday me and mum went to granny and grandpa’s place to help with the last of their Christmas preparations, take over some food and sing Christmas songs. I took our old piano book with me and mum played the piano while we sang. Grandpa got teary eyed during a special song and it was so incredibly bittersweet. I don’t want to lose my grandparents but I know it won’t be long since they are both approaching 100 years. I am so thankful for them, and for the time I’ve gotten to spend with them. I just wish I could remember more of it. It seems so unfair that we never have enough time with all our loved ones, and there are so many childhood memories other people remember that I don’t. I wish I could go back in time and observe myself spending time with my grandparents to memorise everything. If I ever have children I’m going to take so many photos and videos to preserve as much as I can for them.

In my post from April I wrote that I had been looking at houses and vacant lots. Well, the house of a childhood friend of mine is listed and I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve arranged my mortgage and left an offer. The sellers didn’t accept my first offer so now I’m going to see the house again on the 30th to see if it’s wort raising my offer. I like the house but it’s definitely a bit inconvenient as it is a 3 storey house and way too big and expensive for our current needs. I just really like the area and it is one of the best houses in that neighborhood. I’m going to let things progress naturally though, and if I end up with the house then it was meant to be. If someone else makes a higher offer I won’t be upset either since we have no immediate need to move. It’s just a bit crammed in our current apartment and I would definitely like to have an actual office for my photography equipment, and a sewing machine/crafting space.

Looks like my christmas bread cracked pretty badly but at least it rose a little in the oven.. Hopefully it is edible. At least the one I made for granny and grandpa turned out better.. Time to go scarf down the last of my porridge (which I didn’t burn by the way!) and then try to get all my stuff over to mum and dad’s place. Christmas preparations this year have been crazy busy and I definitely regret not being able to enjoy the season enough but hopefully I’ll get more in the spirit tonight. I’m really happy with the gifts I got mum, dad and my guy this year (online and early in October/November to avoid the rush).

I’m hoping to make a new year’s post on here as well either before 2021 or during the first week. I just like writing things down so that I can look back on where I’ve been. :)

Happy holidays whether you’re spending them with your loved ones (in real life or through a video call) or alone.

#personal #diary #December2020

[sirfleurs]

i was sixteen years old when my hand was blue.

The grayscale pitch

Preface      

Life is not easy when you are high and alone watching television or pulling an all-nighter listening to Jimi Hendrix. The brain becomes dull. Overstimulated by genius. You stop thinking and overthink at the same time. I guess that’s what some people call daydreaming. All your bad thoughts get loose and all your inhibitions disappear. I figure this is right before the moment you are most likely to kill yourself. I’ll give it an hour before my Manic-Depression shows its ugly face. As I haven’t killed myself yet in an age of 23 I think I’ve done pretty well. I was sitting in my room in some Woodstock apartment writing on my first ever soon to be book. I had decided to call it ‘The Pitch’. It would be about some witty guy who had a great idea and he would be trying to sell his ‘pitch’ to everyone who’d listen. I had thought the rest of the story through. To be honest I didn’t know more than that. As I was about to sit down I had a beer, smoked a cig and 5 minutes beforehand I had masturbated to a busty forest nymph. Believe me was I tired.

A week ago I was checked-in at Fitzroy Hostel in New York City. It had been insane. My supposedly friends and I were drinking cheap wine in our room during this pandemic across the country. Geez after two bottles of wine I somehow managed to pay for- and eat two caps of MDMA and it blew my mind. I sat on the floor to cool my ass but everything began to spin and it hit me hard like a jolt. Andrew said “hey dude, maybe you should go to the bathroom and stick two fingers in your throat you don’t look too good”. But he was just too late. I burst like a water balloon, vomiting on the floor of Duncans room. Duncan was this nice guy that played XBOX and drank occasionally. Geez was I sorry. I locked myself in the bathroom to get the caps out. I was trying to vomit and I began to feel heated. The MDMA had already kicked in and it was too late to reverse it. I would have to wait this one out. Everything started to feel nice all around the body. My eyes became big as small plates and my teeth began to clench. I got an strange urge to stick my hand in the toilet to cool my body. Something I am not very proud of. On the small shelf I found a shampoo that I emptied in the toilet too just for the hell of it. Minutes later people would lock the door up with a coin and find me covered in shampoo. The helped me in the shower and I went to bed shortly after. Hours later I woke up. Two guys invited me for a joint. Something I couldn’t decline. It was only the second time I had ever tried drugs. While we smoked this cat, Alex told me “you know this only happened because you drank too much. You can never be too careful with mixing alcohol and MD. It doesn’t help that you hadn’t eaten anything either.” “Geez, I was not in control at all. I’d better stick to weed and drinking. That’s something I know”. Always do drugs with very good pals of yours.

So I went to the street and couldn’t make any money. I was to make something one way or the other. Which isn’t always easy when you don’t know what profession you want to be in. All I knew was that I didn’t need any tiresome busy work in my life. I like to feel needed but not so much that I can’t laugh and have breaks during the day. Life is life you know. But I would dance down the street like drums banging through the air. Long time ago I would have taken every job offered to me now I’m not so sure. I went to a fruit parlor in the New Habor Market in near Manhatten in princess St. I asked the first guy :” how much are these avocados.” “two fifty for three piece”. Fruit in the markets are much cheaper than everywhere else and the life is strong on the street which I thought couldn’t be bad. Everyone just running back and forth doing their bussinnes as usual. The markets was one of the places that hadn’t closed due to the pandemic. Nice, I thought to myself. I handed the guy three dollars and told him to keep the rest. “ hey man, how you get a job here standing here selling fruit, I’d really like to know”. “ah young man, I could take a look at your resume if you’d like”. Problem was I didn’t have much to offer him, so I stalled him trying to promote myself in person. I can be a very persuasive guy sometimes. When I’m in the right mood and I felt it crippling in my fingers my mood was good for this situation. “Hey man, I don’t exactly have a written resume. But I’ll tell you everything you’ll need to know. Im good at shouting and a quick learner give me a shot and ill prove to you, you didn’t waste your time”. I sounded like a sucker. But I couldn’t eat my words. The guy didn’t seem interested. I said “I promise give me a shot and I will not blow it.” He looked me in the eye and we stood for a few seconds staring at each other. “come down tomorrow at 6 sharp I’ll see what you can do. You won’t be paid for your three first shifts and from thereon you’ll be paid commission on how much you sell”. Sounded good to me so I nodded “you betcha” I said with a coy smile I sounded like a dork geez. Anyhow that’s how I got my first job. It went fairly well. I continued down the street. I still had something else to do before my first shift. Let me stand next to your fire I thought to myself. I was excited as hell. Down the road I saw a green balloon it was helium filled balloons. A clown was giving them out to kids. Everything was nice the weather was good and you could hear the wind sweep from central park. I needed to buy some weed for the next time coming. So I got up my phone and rang my friend Alex who had a connection. “O boyy I got a job fix me up with some of that green”. I met him outside the hostel and bought a quarter ounce for 50 dollars which is a fine price for nugs like these. Then I went home and lit a blunt. Just a small one while I sat at my outside porch. We had a giant tree and a lot of ungroomed weeds in our garden. We also had a cat I personally named Pysser in the name of my favourite old person who recently died. He was a sergent Knud Romer was his name. He once wrote an article about me when I was fifteen going to summer camp for young boys with no other places to go for their vacation. God was I sad to see him go. When I was done with the blunt I went up to my room and opened my book. It was called Pimp and the author went by the moniker Iceberg Slim. What kind of badass shit was that. It was kind of interesting the way he proclaimed the pimp life. And he was a real gangster. His bottom whore at the end of her mileage. Meaning the whore who kept every other whore in his house in line. When she goes everything always goes to hell for a pimp. He conend her. He made a whole setup with actors to con her into thinking she killed a rich motherfucker. She would be in the hotel room and this guy would collapse on her. Slim would come up to the room and call a doctor and get the guy collected. Slim conned her into thinking he bribed the police. That way his bottom whore was good to go for more tricks. That’s some cold shit. My thought whirled reading about the cocaine snorting and his nose hurting feelings of something scraping at the roof of his brain made me dizzy. I closed the book and stared at the ceiling. Dreaming. Aw man what do I do now. My head bounced like a bass line I felt slick. Breathing heavily but still relaxed. I went down for a cig to clear my thoughts. Sitting there I couldn’t stop looking at all the animals we had in this household. Cat and two dogs just lying freely whenever wherever.

The next morning I came back 6 sharp. A long 10 hours shift. My legs were aching and my head spiining. I wasn’t used to long as shifts. I was only used to lying around doing nothing chilling with friends. But it would come to me In time oso I ekpt coming there shouting like the others. Loud and confident keeping my back steady trying to pull in costumers in. At the end of each shift you would get paid a percentage of what you’ve sold. The first day I sold I couple of vegetables to this old lady who though I was cute and some couples wanting watermelon smoothies. It didn’t go so well. And I sure as hell didn’t want those pity purchases from old ladies. I made two fifty. It really wasn’t much. But at least I was paid the first day. Something I wasn’t expecting. I went to home sat on the couch with the other living there. We sat there chilling drinking beer and playing chess. And some girl that was visiting was playing skyrim.

Dreamers day

I remember when I was a small kid. I would look at the ocean and dream of being a bird. I would be on the moon. I was a gay kid, really. So much that my mother and sister thought I was actually gay. I remember the beach of Turkey. The warm ocean on my limbs under the moonlight. The salt burning in your eyes. Those were the days of happiness and good rest. Father would show us to surf the water on our stomachs whenever a wave came. Also the days of Levanto were nice. Father and I would hike the mountains at daybreak. We would struggle to find a parking spot and Father would cuss. Sister and I would get mojitos and look at the natives. The parties were everywhere. We would bathe in the clear water by the cliff. I remember many young adults would jump in. Everyone wearing speedos except one skinny langy kid. A couple kissing. The guy would get a boner and the girl would cover his little man with her belly. They kissed passionately. People would jump in from 5 meters and even more. Chances were one day they wouldn’t jump far enough into the water and they would hit the sharp rocks at the cliffs bottom. I picked small black clams from the rock and lurked it open. Levanto was a trip through forests cussing. We were in Italy. Driving a big bad car. I would lie across the extra three seats in the behind. I would push my bare feet against the cold glass of the window. I would see the damp print of my feet and the water drops on the other side of the window. I was glad I was inside the warmth of the car. My sisters friend was along. I liked her. She must have been sisters best friend. Not anymore.. I would lie in the bed reading. I was afraid of small gold fish. We would see the colosseum. I would ask “is it real”. Father would laugh for 10 years. I am now here in bed. On the other side of the world. Mother was different. We would be inside. I would care about her. She would be weaker. Depressed. I would be worried sick. I am still worried. But I am also smarter. She can care for herself. She stopped smoking now for the seventeenth time. She says one day she will make it. I hope it for her sake. I am not sure. The price of cigarettes went up. I would watch television. I would come out and talk to her she would listen and I would cry. This pretty much sums up our relationship. I still love her though. I was a dreamer. My English teacher told my sister I lived on the moon. That was fine with me. Not anymore. I want to be in this world now. I want to do good.

The days when we were friends we would go around your backyard make silly films. Scream like small girls. But we were small boys. Guess there is not that big of a difference. We would draw silly faces in class. We would play on the smartboard. We didn’t care about anything but fun. We would be older and try to learn music. Try to do good in school. People break apart and new people find each other. Right now I don’t find anyone. I am alone with the people I live with. The are polite and we drink together. But we are not friends. Not yet but we could be., I think things can happen. “Don’t think twice it’s alright”. You can get everything down the first time you try. You see poetry and stories are written in the haze in the bottom of your mind. You have to write it now not think too much. Know what you want to write and hurry up. Times against you. You have to run or it will be dull or you will be drowsy. Don’t let anything walk up behind your back. Keep your ears and eyes open for everything. This is not the time for storytelling. Open your eyes open your ears. You didn’t see the best minds of your generation starving hysterical naked.

Three small kittens

The day came after the weekend to go back to work at the fruit parlor., The guy seemed to be very contend with my abilities. I would make at least ten dollars for my self each shift. And I would have just enough for food for the day. Not that it was enough. I still had rent to cover. So I seeked my boss for help asking “how do you make a living out of this. Whats the catch.” He responded “the catch is catch 22 anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn’t really crazy”. “would you have to be crazy to want to be in combat?” he nodded “and it works the other way around too”. I pondered it over “you would have to be rationel to want to come out of combat?” “exactly”. It didn’t make any sense to me. What did that have to do with anything. After the shift my chef handed my a fairly small red book with the title Catch-22. I had only made eight dollars this day. It felt lousy. At least I was able to take as much leftover I wanted. That would cover my hunger, but the money wouldn’t cover my rent. Soon I would run out of money and I had no idea as to what to do. I came home and fell down the stinking madras on the floor of my room. I opened the first page of the book he had handed to me. Whatever it was about I was kind of excited to dick in. Every two hours I would go down for a cig and occasionally a glass of water. Didn’t eat anything except avocados. They sustain you for a long time and are delicious with salt. Just be careful some of the avocados are bad inside and will give you diarrhea. It isn’t very comfortable to go to the bathroom every ten minutes during a shift with your boss around. Next I had collected 330 dollars earning eleven dollars for myself. Which is a personal record of mine. I knew I could do better. Catch 22 was a real witty book I didn’t know what I had to learn from it. Each day I would come back to work my boss wouldn’t mention the book. He would just keep yelling for ten 12 hours straight like a muezzin standing on the top of the tower calling to prayer. He was insane. During the day his temple would pulsate like an angry cat who had catched syphilis. Sometimes his lips would be blue and he would have to sit down. Whenever that occurred shortly after he would pull up a small orange container from his pocket and down some pills. He must have had a heart disease or something. I wouldn’t get involved though. He never brought it up himself. So I figured he must have had a good reason to keep low profile. It wasn’t my fight to fight. Four times a day I would go further away with some of the other youngsters trying to make it as a fruit parlor. I was doing the worst but who really cares. It was no competition. I was just trying to make a living.

[glamrockmonarch]

Domestic ace!Deaky Headcanons #3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: so I might get the timeline a bit wrong but oh well… I love this couple, hopefully, I won’t get carried away (but I think I will), enjoy!

Edit: I went back and edit. I will, however (and I had already planned this, so nobody feel stuff, thanks!), be posting a one-shot about having kids with Deaky.

So, we’ve established that you are an animal lover, more specifically a cat lover; so when you move in together and leave your apartment you are sad to have to spend nights alone while Deaky is away on band duty.

You adopt a kitten much to John’s displeasure, he would have preferred a puppy, but you found cats to be more appealing and in need of less care than dogs.

You name her Bean, a name that Freddie strongly disapproves of.

“What kind of name it that?” He argues the first time he sees her.

You have moved in with John a few weeks before and the boys helped with your stuff but now it is the first time they have all been to your apartment since then.

Bean was walking around the men’s legs in an attempt at figuring out which one of them was most likely to feed her something yummy.

“Bean is a perfectly good name! And she likes it too!” You said, going to pick her up, which she allowed with a meow.

Deaky rolled his eyes as you brought the cat to Roger, who simply dragged his hand over the kitten’s head, making her purr.

“What can I say? I’ve always known my way around a p-“

“Don’t.” You warn him and take your kitten with you as Rog sticks his tongue out half laughing.

Deaky ends up loving your pet.

He wakes up first most mornings and plays with her while making breakfast. Sometimes when he is sitting down crunching numbers Bean rubs herself on his legs and meows at him until he pays attention to her.

You love your kitten, always letting her sleep in bed with you and sitting to watch the tv at night together. She loves to throw herself on either yours or John’s belly and nap on top of you.

When Deaky’s away on tour you find it hard to fall asleep, but with Bean purring by your side you manage to.

Although Bean is an angel, which is odd for cats, she does have a flaw which seems to bother Deaky more than it should. She won’t eat cat food. You don’t want to admit it, but you ran out of cat food once while John was stuck in rehearsals and you opened a can of tuna for her. Ever since, Bean won’t eat dry cat food.

“I don’t get it!” Deaky complains some mornings. “She doesn’t like it anymore! Why doesn’t she like it?” He brings a hand full of cat food up to Bean’s nose and watches her turn away, leaving him lying face down on the floor in defeat.

You have been so busy with moving in and training your cat that you forget your anniversary is coming up!

This happened before you even introduced him to your family.

It’s the first year you’ve spent together as an official couple, so even though you have little time to prepare something for Deaky, you find a way to make it special.

On your first anniversary, you prepare a wonderful dinner, you make John’s favorite dish and bake a cake with both of your names on it, you play your favorite record and “out in the street” starts blasting through John’s homemade speakers.

When Deaky comes through the door you have changed into a cute dress he had given you as a birthday present - a piece of good advice from Freddie, - you love that dress and wear it whenever you miss your boyfriend.

He smiles at the music and follows the smell of delicious food into your small kitchen. He finds you dancing in front of the stove.

Seeing you like this makes his heart swell; he is almost incredibly and disgustingly happy with the life he has since he met you and you got together.

You turn and go to wrap your arms around his middle as he does the same, both of you stare into each other’s eyes until he finally breaks the silence.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N!” He kisses your nose and you giggle.

“Happy anniversary, Deaky.” You push his hair away from his face.

The two of you eat dinner and talk about the things you hope to do together in the future.

It’s clear that you and Deaky will be getting married soon.

Your gift to John is a ring, the one you give him has a big stone, it barely fits his pinky finger.

“I’m sorry,” you start to apologize and he shakes his head, “I didn’t know what size to get you!”

“It’s perfect!” He gives you an enormous grin, “this way I can wear it when I play! Thank you, love!”

John had to be creative because he had already spent some money on an engagement ring he planned on giving you soon, of course, savings were aimed at wedding related stuff.

John gives you something you were not expecting, he takes your hand and pulls you toward the living room to play a record you did not recognize. He finds a spot he wanted to play and then lets the needle run through the track.

You smile at the upbeat music, an acoustic guitar being the first thing you hear, and then the lyrics, “don’t you misfire, fill me up with the desire to carry on”, you sway to the song and laugh at Deaky’s joyful expression.

“What’s this song?” You smile up at him, unable to ignore Freddie’s voice.

“It’s my song!” His eyes shrunken from the size of his smile, and he corrects himself, “your song…” he admits sheepishly, “I wrote it for you.

”You turn to the record player and notice the song is already coming to an end. Jumping you grab John’s hand and kiss his knuckles with affection. “I love it, thank you!!”

You change the record one more time and go back to Deaky, the two of you start dancing and laughing, staring at each other until a slow song comes up and you dance with his forehead pressed against yours, both of you enjoying the moment in the comfortable company of the person you love. Once the song ends, replaced by a faster one, the two of you stay like that.

You are married before your second anniversary.

The first big trip you make is to Spain, you keep it simple, split the bills - seeing as you work as well and have some savings-, and spend your summer vacation there together as a couple.

Although things are far from okay with your family, you do go back home on your parents’ birthdays and during the holidays to at least wish them a Merry Christmas every year, you don’t bring Deaky with you to avoid fighting.

The visits to your family stop a little before you try to have a baby with Deaky, the relationship with your mother is too tense and both of you consider it to be beyond repair so Deaky insists you still have his family to turn to whenever you might need them.

John always takes you out for Valentine’s Day, you walk around the city for a bit and then go into a café, or some years you watch a movie instead. You spend the afternoon together and in the evening, you play a game of scrabble while sitting on your bed. The whole day is usually like this, both of you clear your schedules for it.

Christmas used to be a lazy day for you. In the morning you stay in bed for an extra hour and eat homemade cookies for breakfast. In the evening you go out to visit John’s parents and having dinner with them before heading home.

Although of course after a year of being married and with the arrival of your first child, which then you topped with a second and third, and then impressed Roger by filling up a house with a fabulous 4 children, your holiday season got hectic.

“You are pregnant?” Roger had observed and examined your body shamelessly when you broke the news to Deaky’s bandmates the first time. “How?”

Deaky giggled turning to you while holding your hand in his sweaty one.

Freddie hit Roger in the back of the head.

“We’re adopting, you silly boy!” You told Rog, squeezing your husband’s hand.

“Wonderful news, darling!” Freddie had kissed your cheeks and held you in a warm and familiar embrace, he winked at you too, whispering “I’m happy for you. Congratulations!”

Brian was still holding your eldest and giving her a quick lesson on what space was, but he held you with a single arm and congratulated you.

Deaky has been worried about you since the disastrous first time you tried to get intimate. You had ended up pulling away from him, almost shaking, he hated seeing you like that so you stopped and didn’t try again for weeks, but the next time it had been him who stopped the whole thing aware of your discomfort.

You have been too anxious, sort of stuck in your head, so when Deaky comes home with a pamphlet about adoption you struggle not to have a breakdown. In a way, you felt disappointed with yourself for not being able to have kids of your own, but you were so relieved to know that Deaky didn’t mind as long as you were okay and sure of the decision you are making.

“We’re making this decision together,” he promises, “I think this is our best option, but if you disagree…”

“No!” You interrupt your husband, “I want to do it! I just...are you sure you don’t mind that they won’t be... ours?”

“Oh, but they will be!” Deaky holds your hands in his, young as he is, he is always finding the right words to say “we will raise them right, give them the best we can! Love them the same, teach them all we know! How would that be any different with a child we conceive?”

You cry, but not because you feel guilty or anxious or mad. You cry because Deaky’s words are encouraging, heartfelt and honest.

So all four of your little ones are adopted, happy and proud.

After Emma came along, you would cook dinner with Deaky and one of you would be holding your baby girl in your arms, but after the second baby things got tricky.

Throughout the years you trusted Freddie to be your confidant with delicate topics you did not feel comfortable dumping on Deaky, one big example of this were the many conversations you had with the singer when Deaky asked you if you would consider trying to have children.

Freddie was always supportive of your choices, but he also made you see things from the most objective point of view.

You now put up a small wooden bench in front of the counter so your little ones can reach up and help you make cookies in the morning.

While you bake and cook dinner with Emma and Stevie, both 5 and 3 years old; Deaky plays with your youngest in the living room. Joey and Harvey are only 6 years old, and a shocking 9 months old - when you adopted Harvey he had been barely a few months old, -supposedly given up for adoption by an underage mother- making him the youngest kid you have received in your home.

You hold a small Christmas party at your house every year, the boys come with their partners and the house seems to be impossibly loud.

You are the only ones with children at the moment, although you can sense that this will change soon from the way Dominique holds Harvey.

You cannot help but feel as if you are destined to be surrounded by men all your life; Emma is your only daughter.

When the men come over your children go wild, Freddie is playful and has a nice way around them, surprisingly so does Roger.

You all sit in the living room before dinner. You drink hot cocoa with Emma and Stevie, same as John, Brian, and Chrissie. Roger, Dominique, Mary, and Freddie have a glass of wine. Your children eat cookies and you sit next to Deaky, while he lets Emma and Joey sit on his lap. You have put Harvey to sleep and watch Stevie sit in between Roger and Dominique with Bean on his lap, questioning him about what he does in the band.

“And is that important?” your son asks, making Dominique giggle at Roger’s horrified expression.

“Of course!” Roger sounds almost offended.

The guys only ever say it to John but they all think you and John have a wonderful thing going with your already large family.

Freddie does constantly let you know how much he admires you two for overcoming so much to build a home from scratch. Knowing how badly you struggled with who you are when you were younger he looks up to you and Deaky for being strong and confident and always being there for each other.

For the actual Christmas dinner, you have the whole family sit together in your dining room and watch Deaky joke around with his kids. After eating you have a traditional gift exchange with the children, a perfect opportunity for John to snap pictures.

At the end of the night you’re knackered but go to bed with smiles on your faces in hopes you will be able to see some more joy in your little ones’ faces the next morning.

Deaky thanks you every year at around Christmas for the home you built him.

You always reassure him that it has been built by both of you and he insists he hasn’t done as much.

“But you made this a home, from day one. From the second you walked through the door…”

“I think you mean Bean, she’s the real hero here…” you joke, to which John rolls his eyes.

“I mean it. You make us a family, always bring us together” he pauses, both of you laying face to face in bed. “I love you.”

Every year it feels like it’s the first time you’ve heard him say all of this.

“And I love you.”

Back when it had been only the two of you; after coming home with a full stomach courtesy of John’s parents, he would pull you into a hug and you used to fall asleep with your head on his chest, wishing each other a Happy Christmas.

I had to include some babies - it’s where my head goes when you mention Christmas (I’m sorry?), ahhh, I still hope you enjoy this one!!

Requests are still open!

#ace!john deacon #ace!reader #ace!deaky #requested #edit #queen headcanons #queen imagines #queen fanfiction #queen #headcanons #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #queen fandom #queen band #requests are open

[prettywordsyouleft]

Dad! Kang Daniel A-Z

So I see a lot of those NSFW A-Z’s of idols and decided to try something different and do Dad! Daniel A-Z. I hope you like this, it was a bit of fun for the afternoon! These are just my thoughts, not what I expect Daniel to do in the future lol!

I’m open to writing actual Dad! Daniel fictions in the future too, if you’d like something more than scenario based!

AFFECTION

Daniel is very affectionate with his children. He loves cuddling with them, and was sad when the older girls started to grow out of enjoying his hugs constantly. He loved the feeling of being their security blanket, and relishes it whenever they let him now.

BIRTH

He was there throughout every birth. He couldn’t imagine letting you go through it all alone. Anything you needed, he got you. The type to come with a bag of snacks that he knows you like, but eats them himself because he’s grown nervous. After the first child he had a little more understanding of what was going to happen, but since each delivery was different, he would still find himself questioning how to be your biggest support. Wanted to cut the umbilical cord of your first child but felt too hesitant. Definitely did it for the others.

CONSISTENCY

Daniel is mostly consistent and follows through with your mutual parenting regime. If he’s really tired he’s most likely to give in then, and so you try your best to make sure he isn’t left alone when in that state - after your daughter convinced him to buy her the expensive doll house you had told her she couldn’t get, you weren’t prepared to take any further chances.

DAD SKILLS

Understanding how to communicate well with each of your children depending on their age and stage. Changes his language to suit their needs and all your children have always felt at ease because communication for needs and wants flows easily.

EDUCATION

Hands on approach more so than with books. Likes to set up fun experiments in the weekends to teach and play with. Very interested in sports and helps his children with them. Likes being involved in the school as much as he can and fosters a program for performance. Your children that are in school are all pretty well known because of their Dad and are very proud to point out their Dad whenever they see him at school too.

FUN

Has almost as much fun playing with some of the toys and activities as your kids do. Is known as the fun Dad within the neighbourhood and at school. The type to not batter an eye through an intense pretend tea party with the girls, and gets really into eating all that yummy pretend cake that it makes you laugh.

GETTING THROUGH PREGNANCY

Daniel was always supportive. The type to get up and buy you the thing you’re craving at 3am even if he’s just rolled into bed an hour ago. Was always worried when you suffered from morning sickness, even after the first born. Went to every scan and read pregnancy books with you in preparation. Knew when to comply and challenge your hormonal behaviours well.

HOW MANY

Four. You wanted two, he wanted three, somehow you ended up with an extra. Three girls and a boy. Whilst Daniel was thankful for his son to not outnumber him alone, he loves raising little girls and is pretty chuffed to be known as the Daughter-Daddy within your group of friends. Does a lot of rough and tough with his son, after years of tea-parties, he’s all too happy to have a son to experience new adventures with.

INTIMACY

Despite having children, your intimacy is still pretty decent. The kids groan cheekily whenever they see you both kiss, but hugging is constantly something Daniel does with you regardless. The kids all love it, snuggling up for movie night is a family favourite.

Your sex life isn’t as active as it once was, about 1-2 times a week. Which when you think about it, with four kids, it’s pretty great to be that active still!

JOB

Daniel’s idol life continued through the first baby, but after that he opted to run his own company, helping train idols with the knowledge that he gained through a very successful career. He still managed to do spot performances with WANNA ONE for anniversaries, and with his fellow MMO members, but he knew with four kids, and his age, he needed to find something more stable and city-based. His schedule was still packed, but he ensured he made time in it for activities with his family too.

KID FREE TIMES

You both made a point to have date night every fortnight where you went out for the night. Admittedly you both messed up in the beginning, still talking about the kids, but after setting the rule not to discuss anything parenting wise, your date nights became something you both looked forward to a lot.

Whenever the kids were in bed and you both were home you’d just cuddle up and catch up with each other and waking up in the morning without a kid(s) in between you was rare, but very well received (and an easy way to get in one of those more intimate sessions – normally quickly with the thrill of getting it out of the way before being disturbed to start the daily grind, hah!)

You were both looking forward to the times where your kids could go on camp, but it was a wee way off to have all four out at the same time.

LIMITS

Since he works with large groups of young people every day, loudness is never a problem for Daniel. Nor is bustling activity, because he could just lay there and supervise if he was feeling a little tired. However what he couldn’t handle was the children fighting. He literally struggled with seeing them argue or physically hit each other, it really got under his skin. He would come down on them all pretty hard then, almost regretting it as soon as his harsh words left his mouth. He would often feel pretty low after it too, turning to you for support and building himself back up as a parent.

He also found the department store with four kids all wanting this that and another thing as well; all too overwhelming and either buy them everything or nothing at all to deal with the environmental chaos.

MUM ONLY

Daniel was pretty hands on with most things, but the one thing he couldn’t deal with is sickness. If one of the kids was sick, he panicked so much that your calm and collected approach was the one chosen in the end. He’d always flitter outside the door worriedly asking you how they are every few moments, and when your second daughter broke her arm falling off her bike he was an absolute wreck. He really is emotional for his kids. Funny thing, he could take very good care of you if you’re sick. Which with four kids, when it made its rounds, you were very grateful you had him for nursing you back to health.

NUTRITION

Loves making meals for his family with you. As a unit you’re both big on meal prep. Looked up good healthy kids snacks and most of the time insists on them. But also the type to blow their entire diet and throw them on a sugar high at least once a month as a treat. Uses ice-cream as a bribery tactic often. When your eldest daughter had her first dental check and had early tooth decay signs in one of her baby teeth (lol), Daniel insisted on a month long stringent of eating well, until the tooth fell out and he realised that brushing twice a day and eating well in moderation was better than preventing pretend cake at the tea parties. The girls had been very anti-Daddy during that stage.

OUTER VILLAGE

Very close with Seongwoo’s, Jisung’s and Minhyun’s families especially and every summer would organise a vacation together. Would turn to Minhyun for a lot of parenting advice, even when you were the first out of the group to give birth. Good thing Minhyun’s full of sound knowledge!

PETS

You still have three cats and although he wanted more, it was hard for Daniel to share his cats with his kids. They would pull their tails and Daniel would just about dive on them to protect them. Spent a lot of time teaching the children the importance of respecting animals. Takes them to petting zoos often whenever he feels like there’s just not enough paws at home. Tried to convince you along with your third daughter that another cat would match the number of kids, but you didn’t buy into it so three it remains.

QUALITY TIME

Despite his schedule, Daniel insists on quality one on one time with his children. He takes each girl on a Daddy date which they all love, and often goes out with your son to play. Tries to read to each child before bed in the weekends, though your eldest now reads to him and puts him to sleep instead, oops.

REPRIMANDING

Daniel isn’t the type to like telling your children off. He’d rather negotiate and find a happy medium than scold and take things from them. He’s a sucker for their tears too, but overall if he has to; he will give them consequences and will stick to them too. Usually the harshest when he finds them physically pushing one another around, and he really has no time for disrespect in his household.

SPOILED?

Yep. The “perks” of raising three princesses means they all have princess rooms and all the things they generally wanted, except the knight in shining armour (Daniel is not prepared for this stage and often worries about it even though your eldest is only seven lol). His son has the latest games, a bunch of bikes and skateboards and the backyard is full of play equipment to entertain them for hours. The type to think of his children (and you) and buy little gifts whenever he travels. Hates when you purge the toy room as much as the kids do. He tries to be modest but the fact is, the kids have him whipped, sigh.

TECHNOLOGY

Prefers your kids to have fresh air and exercise over being in front of devices. You mirror these thoughts and were very conscious about how much time they got in front of technology. Is freaking out about when puberty hits, since your eldest is already asking for her first phone.

UNCLE

Known also as the fun uncle. Invites all the kids over in the weekend and lets them play on all the fun things at your house. Believes in child play being the best time of your lives and really instils this in all children he crosses paths with. Sungwoon is always whining to you that his son loves Daniel more than him. Comes up with crazy over the top children days with Jaehwan and you’ve given up trying to calm them down.

VALUES

Believes a family that talks about how much they love each other is the type to have a good constant flow of communication. And so he always makes sure everyone is talking well to each other, and it’s why he gets so upset when the children pick on each other.

WHAT CHANGED MOST

You wonder where your homebody of a husband went, but having kids truly made him want to make life as magical as he could for them. Even though he loved staying home, he’d always be pottering around the house doing something with them. It was somewhat a plus, because it meant you could do your own things when he was home, and allowed you some much needed me-time, but the change could still throw you off some days.

X-FACTOR (TALENTS)

Was very into seeing what talents your children would have early on and supporting it immediately. Your kids had gone through various hobbies like they had their underwear at times, but eventually you found that your eldest loved dance, your second child was in gymnastics, third loved horse riding, and your son was playing soccer and hockey. Daniel was very attentive to any need they had for pursuing their interests and was a very proud Dad with all their achievements.

YEARNING

Daniel’s life dream from here is almost complete. He’d love to move to the country one day, to let your children run free, but he likes the city life too, knowing how accessible it is for good education and amenities. Admittedly he’s happy with his four kids, but now and then, especially since Daehwi’s got his first kid on the way, Daniel can’t help but envision you pregnant again, he loved rubbing at your baby bump whenever you were pregnant.

ZZZs (SLEEP)

The kids’ bedtime starts at 7pm and the older two have until 8pm which is generally the busiest time of the night, considering it’s you putting all of them to bed alone because Daniel’s still at work. You have a routine in place which thankfully works, and you’re able to get a few hours peace to yourself until bed around midnight. Daniel is generally home around 10pm. In the weekends you both aim to sleep in, but due to poor sleep schedules from being an idol, Daniel still rises to his current schedule. Which is great because weekend cartoons with the kids is one of his favourite morning pastimes.

#kang daniel #wanna one #wannaonenetwork #wanna one daniel #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenarios #wanna one dad #kang daniel imagines #kang daniel scenarios #dad! kang daniel #kang daniel au #wanna one au #prettywordsyouleft requested

[a-manic-pixie-dream-journal]

Okay I am so pissed and I have to rant

So a little over a year ago, My bf and I met this guy at an open mic, and he seemed pretty nice, kinda funny. We all exchanged numbers, and started keeping in touch. One day he showed up looking kinda bummed out and left early. I texted him asking if he was okay, and he said that he gets sad around the month of Feb. I asked if he wanted to talk about it and he gave one of those over the top flowery statements about how he has been fucked over too many times, and he can’t talk about it etc. At the time, I figured it was just something personal and I respected his privacy.

After we see each other more often and have sent memes and funny videos back and forth, I start getting a lot of drunk texts from him that reveal that the guy is a total neckbeard. I would get rant after rant from this guy about how great he is to everyone around him, and how he is single and nobody wants him in spite of how great of a person he is. I suggest that maybe it’s a sign that he still has to look at himself, and his response was always “I’ve done that already,” and then he would proceed to just go on about how lonely he is. Because he was always obliterated when he would send these, I figured it wasn’t something he would do all the time. I was wrong.

He told us that his ex who he was with for like 5 years cheated on him and they broke up around valentines day. He has not gotten over it since this was 3 years ago and he is still talking about it. It became a regular occurrence that he would keep saying things like “I mean is it so bad that I just want to take someone out on a date? Is something wrong with me? I just don’t know why I can’t have this.” Ordinarily I would be very sympathetic toward someone this hurt, but 1. He always had to point out how he does so much for everyone else and how selfless he was, and 2. I never really heard about a specific type of girl he wanted, it just sounded like he wanted someone for the sake of not being alone. He also started having my bf go outside with him for like 20 minute smoke breaks where he would rant the same thing. Unfortunately, none of this hit me as a huge red flag until he ended up helping me in big ways.

To sum it up, he gave me a job when I needed it, helped me pay off a stupid fee I had at school that my parents wouldn’t help me with, and helped me move up here when my bf and I weren’t old enough to rent a truck by ourselves. Now in all of these things, I was in a position where I had no other options, and I had every intention of paying him back for these things once I had the money. Furthermore, we hung out with him many times, and when he was sick, we surprised him with a get well basket of food, juice, medicine,and movies and what not. And we tried to be there for him whenever we could, making it clear that we were not using him like he claims others have. This is where his true colors became impossible to ignore.

Around the 4th of July he wanted to have some people over, there was a snafu with inviting people and it ended up just being me, my bf, this guy and his roommate. We all got pretty drunk, and started talking about real shit. It came out somehow that I was taken advantage of in a very bad way when I was 14, and that I don’t want my parents to know because I didn’t want them to think it was their fault as parents when I felt it was my fault. This guy responds “that very well may be” and then went on about how forgiving he was to his ex for cheating on him and the guy she did it with. I was pissed, I was beyond pissed. I didn’t want to be the center of attention at all for what I said, I just didn’t want something that personal that I disclosed to be considered so small compared to a 3 year old relationship conflict. He saw that I was pissed when we left, and bombarded my texts, begging me to talk to him, refusing to give me space, in spite of me saying that I needed it to calm down. Literally the next day, when I called out of work, he wouldn’t stop refusing to let me just take some time to breath because he feels so bad and he “can’t let it rest.” So I say fine, let’s get this over with. He comes over with his tale between his legs, not saying much. He needs to know how he can make it up to me that day, that moment. The first thing that pops into my head is that I don’t want to feel in debt to him as a friend, especially when I feel the way that I do. He says okay, and that I officially don’t owe him anything, and I go back to work. 

Sometimes he has to make deliveries to this college that’s a few hours away, and I go with him because we don’t get back until later and it’s good extra hours. He asked me if I wanted to go to a football game with him there sometime, as in take a 3 hour drive with him to go there for that event. I said it would depend on when because of the planning involved. Another day, he asked me if I wanted to go to a concert with him, and thankfully it happened around the same time my parents were supposed to be visiting me. I told my bf and he was NOT happy about it.

 The guy was the only one who was able to give me a ride to my bus in the next city over when I was going on vacation (my bf’s car is super old, and all of my other friends worked), and he offered to drive the full 7 hours to where I was going. I said I already have that ticket for the bus so it’s ok. We left at like 4 in the morning, so I was exhausted and slept most of the way there, and just got on the bus as fast as I could. I didn’t really talk to him that whole time I was gone, except to let him know I had a ride back so he didn’t need to bother. He asked me if something “was going on between us.” And that he didn’t want to ruin my vacation, BUT. I told him I didn’t want to talk about this until I was back from vacation. 

So when I was back at work, he told me he really “went out of his way” for me, and he was so hurt that I got on my bus so fast. I simply told him I have had my own shit to think about and work on, and that I have been trying to focus on that (it was a really rough summer, I had to move to a new apartment, btw he tried to make me move in with him an hour away from everyone else, and the two of us were in a car accident earlier that month. He told me he would stay with me as long as I needed, I told him I just really wanted to see my bf, and he didn’t come back with him until I was about to leave the hospital, I was alone in there for like 2 hours, I still am scared of fast moving cars). I told him that we need to reestablish a boundary. He said okay. 4 days later he asked again “what’s going on between us,” and that he has been trying to respect my boundary. I was getting really fed the fuck up. Even still I simply said that I was just trying to work on things going on in my life, and not everything is some spiteful conspiracy against him.  

I thankfully have another job where I am working 3 days a week, and I only need to see the other guy one day, and if I need a ride home from my other job. Things were okay for a little while, but then, just a couple days ago, my bf was gonna have a guys night with him but I happened to be going through a lot of emotional shit and I really needed him. The guy offered himself to cancel, and I told him that was not my call to make and I didn’t want to do that because I know he wants to see him. This guy saw me bawling in front of him, and knew how beat up I was about everything going on. He told me everything was ok, he cared about me, and wanted me to be alright. My bf ended up cancelling and consoling me. When the guy picked me up today, I apologized to him for ruining his night, that it wasn’t my intention, and I didn’t plan on it at all. He chose, when I was about to get out of his car, to tell me “not gonna lie, I was kind of upset about it. I mean I don’t get many calls to hang out a lot, just being honest.” I calmly said I apologized again, and that if I knew he would be this upset about it, I wouldn’t have said or done anything. Also that I assumed he wouldn’t mind since he offered to cancel in the first place. He felt it so necessary to tell me this and make me feel even worse than I already did.

Tomorrow I am asking my boss if I can work 4 days, and I am going to Uber home. I cannot keep feeling like such a shitty person, when I really try as best I can to return the kindness that is done to me.

#sorry for the rant #neckbeard #nice guys finish last

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Relics of childhood (Alright, I admit that when I didn’t find any old sculpting in a file, I made a post of what was there.) Feel free to skip my rambling about each pic.

Pic 1- The very first box I painted as a little girl. Mom had decided to paint cheese boxes she got from the local general store for a craft contest at her club. Yes, when I was little my small town actually still had a general store that cut cheese from large wheel. I painted it using the paints Mom had left over.

 I remember in 1983 using is as place to stash things to read during summer vacation. The lid ended up a couple feet above the box! It was full of lots of books, magazines and comics like The Uncanny X-Men, Amethyst Princess of Gemworld,  and Return of the Jedi adaptation. I read all of it, because I couldn’t stop reading back then. 

Pic 2- This ugly doll is incredibly dear to me. It was birthday gift from one of the boys in the neighborhood. I wasn’t having a party, which usually meant no presents, but he decided on his own to give me one. He called me behind the car so the other boys wouldn’t see it. He positively glowed with pride with having gotten if for me himself and he thought it beautiful. That made it one of the most wonderful gifts I ever got. 

He my favorite of the boys.

 I was almost always the only girl in the neighborhood, and it placed me in unique position. It was double edged thing, the struggle to gain respect while having a curious power by being the “mysterious” female. 

I thought by childish logic that when I grew up I’d have to marry one of the boys when I grew up, and that it had to be a certain boy because his parents were college grads. (Don’t think kids don’t pick up on social status.) This was horrifying! The  boy was sexist and bossy, a foe. I had gotten into a duel, challenging him to a one on one wrestling match after he went too by declaring that, without voting, he would lead the little club I  suggested  but that I had to be the secretary. “Girls are secretaries” After I won the fight he lied about it. Considering the fact that on the first day of kindergarden he pretended not to know me, the big first grader that had been the only face knew “I don’t know her!” I shouldn’t have been shocked he’d lie. His skin was pale, cool and damp like an underbelly of a fish. I could never imagine loving him.

But the boy that gave me this doll, oh he was exactly the opposite. He had a fiery temper, but whenever we fought he would cool down and would apologize on his own. His parents never made him, but his own inner sweetness. And when we fought it wasn’t with a cruelty, which it often was with the other boys. Anger and hurting someone were not the same for him. His mouth always seemed to have a mischievous smile and his eyes sparkled. Oh those eyes, wide and framed in thick dark black lashes like deer, when they weren’t crinckled up in laughter. His skin was the color of brown dry leaves, dry and warm as a rock in the sun. He smelled like a summer woods. I remember that so vividly....

I loved him. Best friend shading into something I wouldn’t have admited was romantic...but was. He wasn’t my first real life romantic stiring. That would be the 7 year old boy that gave me the love note when I was 4 (He was cute and nice, even if he was so old) But this boy was extremely special to me. 

I haven’t seen him since I was 9, but the doll has always reminded me.

The doll’s clothes are not her originals. My cousin, now sadly in a nursing home, made me a whole trunk of doll clothes Christmas. Tragically I played with them so much that the only  hand knit peices I still have are the ones still on dolls like this, so the doll is an extra treasure for me. 

Pic 3 &4- My wonderful cork ball shooting gun. Whenever I had to go to a doctor I was allowed to get something on the way home (you could never bribe me like that now!) and this was my pick once. In a way it’s amazing this was still being made, what with it openly trying to look like a “real” gun and actually firing projectiles. 

It was much coveted by the boys in the neighborhood, until one day the kid next door tried to steal it. He was prone to stealing and lies, as well as being a name calling wannabe bully. The fact he was not bright at all and tended toward cowardice made his failings less of a threat. 

So when Pop caught up with the boy, it wasn’t hatd to get my gun back. The boy not only did not try to hide, but insisted it was his gun. As you see, my father had scratched my name into the metal, so my father pointed this out. He asked what it said, and the boy insisted it was HIS name! In case you can’t read it on the battered gun, it actually says “STEPHANIE ANN WOLFE”. Clearly he expected the grown up not to be able to read! LOL

Pic 5- My Miss Piggy jacket. Piggy was one of my heroes. She got to be pretty but with a karate chop, an assertiveness and ambition cloaking a vulnerability. I’m sure some folks found a fat little girl liking Miss Piggy funny, but whatever. 

Pics 6 &7- This was my last dress. 

Well, technically at 9 I had an Easter  dress  for my grandmother (she died that year, so I’m glad I relented) and I had to wear a dress as chief marshal at graduation  when I was in 11th grade. But this was the last dress I wore as a normal thing.

I can still remember standing in that kindergarten classroom and standing in front of a full length mirror, a terrible sadness filling me. I loved that dress. I loved that little owl on the pocket. I even thought I looked cute wearing it. But as I stood there I realized I would never wear it again. 

Things had happened since I had started school. I had learned a lot of horrible things about the cruelty of humanity in those first days. The details are best left at that. And so I had come to realize the vulnerability inherient in wearing dresses. 

Looking in that mirror I vowed never to wear a dress or skirt again. I was always going to dress to fight or run from the human monsters of the world. Later the fact dresses are utterly impractical for my life would probably stop me wearing them (dresses in the woods or pig lot anyone?), but at the time it was simple. I would NEVER let myself be so vulnerable. Ever.

The ballet slipper was from taking classes around that time. All the other girls had black slippers, but naturally I picked pink ones. The class was horrible... the teacher dictatorial, classmates unfriendly, and by high school it would be a source of embarrassment as a teacher found a newpaper clipping of 5year old me posing with my class. I took a class for a year, and all I got was this lousy slipper! LOL 

#photography #childhood #childhood objects #miss piggy #dolls #dresses #guns #my childhood #my pics #photographs

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.

The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

Smashed three windows.

Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.

Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.

Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.

Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks

Went into students desks, ripped up their books.

Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)

Threw some desks around.

Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)

Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.

Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.

Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.

Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.

Broke multiple chairs.

Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)

Set a fire in the trash can.

When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.

She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.

So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.

About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”

About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  

A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

#true story #middle school #teachers #funny #emily dickinson #asks #molly mumbles

[akashpoet12]

Day 17

Knowing me

Well, a person has his favourites in such a wide range of topics and it's impossible to sum it up in an anthology but know that I will tell some close secrets of mine through this prose. Well, the almighty shows no favourites and that's why all are equal in his eyes. Now you might say, that then why is someone so helpless and someone so happy. There is always diversity in integrity, the greatest example is India. So, though there is so many diversity in humans, God is dispassionate and listenes to all sooner or later. Common likings come out to be so similar. About my colour, it's blue; about an animal, it's cat; well I have about 20 fishes as pets; about food, it's paneer...well I am a foodie so it has a wide range, especially the specialized chef foods from youtube. But, even being a bengali, I don't like fish. Let's talk in detail.

If you ask my hobbies, I love to play music, watch tv, read books, watch movies. I am not a sporty guy but if you ask me about it, I used to prefer football first but now cricket. As gifts, I love them who give me books, perfumes and watches. Isn't it becoming too much informative? As I am a writer, so writing should be my hobby right? No, it isn't. I doesn't consider it as my hobby or job, it's my passion to let others know about me and to tell them every story that comes in my mind as my job offered by the God via this life as I believe every story has a capacity to influence someone or the other. Poems just come out of me as a flow, even I sometimes compose music for those. They just express my state of mind or my thoughts about a concerned topic.

Friends have been an inseparable version of my personality. Even I feel so bad on leaving my childhood place Farakka for two years for my senior secondary. I had to leave my friends but thanks to the technological miracle 'social media', we are in contact but that essence is missing but hoping to meet them after these two years or else if it would be too late, the laughter will have gone by then, just that we won't become strangers to recognize each other. I hope they will also be so delighted to see me. All my friends support me and we share such a strong bond especially, Surjendra, Deepayan, Debanshoo, Rohan but still there is one more with whom I feel a completely different persona whenever we meet, that's why I consider him as my best friend and he's Abir.

Someone has said so right, "Life is what happens when you're busy planning other things." Same is what's happening with me. I was dreaming of so many things and I couldn't realize when the time has passed on so much and till the time I came into my senses, it was so late. Leaving Farakka was one such thing which I couldn't resist even I wanted to. Now, I am in the process of being made a doctor. Well, one of my favourite subjects was always Biology due to SKD Sir, one of my favourite teacher. He used to teach it so interestingly without books and so many extra things and always answered our interesting questions regardless of its any connection with the syllabus. He used to ask questions before exams and never scolded if you were wrong. My favourite teacher was Proloy sir, who used to teach us physics. As a tribute, I would also like to say about my english teachers, Arnab sir, for whom I am a writer today or else I would know nothing of the language, and Subrata Sir, who supported me at every step. But, my favourite subject has always been history, which doesn't make me a backbencher, yes I am a topper which has brought me great praise from teachers and respect from friends and now this praise has become an addiction and this praise has also blocked my free-life friendship. This topper identity has brought me my favourite goddess Saraswati, it's not because I am a student and I pray for marks before exams, but it's a kind of 'Thank you'. I never used to study day and night, just only before exams and yes, I used to be very attentive in class and listen to what the teacher says, so I was just amazed that how without studying, I always used to get full marks. An atheist becomes a theist only when he sees something which has no logic.

I always wanted to be a historian and archaeologist, to do Ph.D in medieval history with one of my favourite language urdu(which I don't know) and my favourite Mughal, Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar. I want to discover many truths like the hidden Dwarka, the unraveled existence of the epic of Mahabharata and many other such unsolved mysteries. These discoveries are so exciting. I also rather wanted to teach students...So let's see what the future awaits for me, for now, I am a medical student.

Well about my other favourites, favourite cartoon show was Oswald, my IPL team is KKR, favourite cricketer Sourav Ganguly and Gautam Gambhir, my favourite fruit being guava, ice cream flavour none other than vanilla. I don't like cold drinks. I neither like mountain nor sea. As on vacation or travel, I only like to visit and tour historical places, such a great flavour of enigma and nostalgia can be expressed all around. Actually I like to be around many people, in a gossip, so love group travelling. Though by nature, I am shy and introvert but like to hear to talks of the folk and enjoy the company of people as I am a good listener and sharp observer and that's what makes me interested in mystery books like detective Feluda and mystery movies. I am an extreme lover of thrillers and Feluda. I can tell a lot about people by just seeing them and that's god gifted maybe. As in writing essays or long writeup, I was inspired by Rishi Kapoor's autobiography 'Khullam Khulla', where he gave so detailed descriptions. My favourite poets are Harivansh Rai Bachchan and William Wordsworth, the nature lover boy. My favourite season is kind of summer due to the pleasure of air-conditioners, a nature-villain right?

Well, this is about what youths like, but even on being a 17 year stud, I doesn't belong to this generation not in any way. If the world calls me a luddite, I accept this tag and yes, I am an old lover. My favourite directors are Hrishikesh Mukherjee(Hrishi Da), Satyajit Ray and Raj Kapoor. My favourite actor is Amitabh Bachchan and yes my only wish on deathbed is to meet him for once. I am probably the biggest fan of him. My favourite film is of course, Sholay and also Anand. Sholay is such a film with great dialogues, that one can watch it a 100 times, but still it will feel as a new film. Of Amitabh's roles, the best is in Sharaabi. Of this generation, I like Kartik Aaryan on screen, though Big B continues in this generation as well. As of classics, I like Mughal e Azam( best role of akbar), Shree 420, Kal aj aur kal. My favourite song is 'Gaadi Bula Rahi Hai' from Dost, such meaningful lyrics and also 'Jeena Yahan Marna Yahan' from Mera Naam Joker. I am a old bollywood and bengali cinema(Uttam Kumar and Soumitra Chatterjee) lover, those songs had so great melody and so meaningful lyrics. I am literally an old butch. Even if I see something of this generation, it is generally message-giving, biopic, mystery and crime thrillers. My favourite singer is Kishore Kumar, the man had so great versatility, sad to energetic songs. Mostly, I like sad and soulful songs. As in TV shows, my favourite has always been Adaalat (fan of KD Pathak), CID and KBC. Well, I also like Sumedh Mudgalkar in RadhaKrishna. Mahabharat on starplus was also my favourite once.

There's a lot to know more about myself because I am kind of unique and I prefer to have my flavors different which helps others to spot me out in the crowd of followers and trends. I don't follow favouritism and please don't follow me, yes you can admire me and get inspired by me. There are thousands of people I hope who think like me, great thinkers with philosophies and day dreaming, to them I say see me, do what I do, think what I think but at the end, add pinch of your own flavour to my style that makes it yours.

Akash Ganguly

[isabclls-blog]

[ hayley atwell, cis female ] - did you know ISABELLA MERCER is back in town ? i’ve heard that the THIRTY year old has been gone for THIRTEEN YEARS and used to be known as THE FERVOUR. now people call them THE BENEVOLENT but they’re still DIFFIDENT, and SELFLESS as usual. right now they’re busy as a DATA ENGINEER but i hope we have time to catch up ! 

guess who's back, back again, caitlyn's back, tell a friend. yES so anyways i'm back with the complete opposite of nick honestly ?? bella ?? my smol ?? child ?? who i hurt so dearly w her backstory ?? ( n w a lil bit of catherine’s help but we won't talk about that ) i have yet another basic connections page up for her here if ya'll wanna plot hmu on here or nicks ims, either one. and as always, the most extra of intro posts is below the cut because i don't know when to shut the fuck up.

( TW: mentions of death. )

BIOGRAPHY.

isabella was born in aston & raised by two v loving parents, her father was a surgeon, her mother a nurse. ( which is where those two met.. )

she is actually the youngest of the two children their parents had, her brother being seven years older than her.

was raised to be "practically perfect" in her parents eyes, made straight A's in school, never missed a day, never went and hung out with the wrong crowd, nothing. and unlike most, she really didn't mind that life.

but her brother, that was a different story, he went through a rebel phase and basically shut her and her parents out for a while.

life was great for all of them, their parents talking about taking the whole family on vacation for bella's 8th birthday because they knew they all needed a little break.

that vacation never came, though. bella was nine when she lost her parents to a freak car accident.

isabella was pulled out of school early that day by her neighbor as they had no other family in aston. but she didn't know why, not until her brother showed up to their neighbor's house in shambles.

apparently her brother had been caught trying to steal something out of a drug store and so they called her parents to come and get him and on their way to get him the rain caused a slick patch in the asphalt and that was that, their lives taken in an instant.

of course, since both of the mercer siblings were underage, they were put into the foster care system.

for a while, both of them didn't get anyone around to possibly adopt them, but shortly after she turned 9, her world flipped upside down once again.

her brother was adopted by a family who lived three states out who just so happened to be in the area and happened upon her brother, meaning she knew she'd probably never see him, or if she did, it would be very few and far between.

she didn't know how to handle this, her brother had been the only thing she'd known for almost three years and he was yanked away from her almost as quickly as her parents were.

after a few months of having basically no one, keeping to herself and only talking whenever she was spoken to, she crossed paths with one freddie wright, someone who would end up changing her life forever.

those two were like two peas in a pod and he made her forget the fact she'd basically lost her entire family.. he gave her hope that maybe she wasn't going to be alone for the rest of her life and she cherished him so damn much.

even though life wasn't the most perfect thing in the world for her, she never went into a "rebel" phase, always kept up with her schooling and found out that coding and anything that had to do with computers caused her so much peacefulness that she knew that's what she wanted to pursue a career in.

and to her surprise, she ended up getting a full scholarship to NYU, which happened to be the same college her best friend got into.

she was scared at first, was so unsure about packing her things and moving to a new state entirely, but she knew that she'd be able to make some sort of future for herself in new york, so she went for it.

and just like most, she ended up falling in love with the big city, finding places she loved to go whenever she wanted to, loved having people around her all the time.. it was something she'd never really felt before.

not to mention she was doing so damn well in college that even her professor told her he'd be surprised if she didn't end up working for a big corporation one day, and all of those good feelings put together was indescribable.

hell, she even ended up finding someone who she found herself head over heels for, and he felt that way about her too... flash forward to about a year later and she had a pretty little diamond ring sitting on her ring finger from him.

planning the wedding and keeping up with her schooling was difficult, and sometimes she just wanted to stop with school just until the big day was over, but she knew better. her parents taught her that an education was one of the greatest things a girl could have.

but she managed to get through it, had the wedding set for a beautiful day in the fall, the dress and everything else picked out and she was the happiest camper in the world.. she had someone she loved who she was going to marry and her best friend right by her side.

but things didn't turn out like she'd planned, on the day of the wedding, her husband to be left her at the altar and needless to say, this left her a broken mess.

without hesitation she took off to one of her favorite spots, still in her dress and a very expensive bottle of champagne to wash away the sadness.

but to her surprise, someone else had gone there too, the person who'd always been able to give her hope in life: freddie.

they sat in the park for a while and after everything, she found herself almost glad the wedding hadn't happened because she'd been missing a part of her ever since she'd met her ex-fiance.

but then life hit her in the face once again and altered everything.

she was at work when she heard the news of freddie's accident, her heart practically shattering from that alone. he was okay, but they had to tell her that more than a thousand times for her to believe it.

and even though there were bits and pieces of the years they'd been friends missing from his memories, she never once gave up on him because he never once gave up on her.

she fought and fought to make life better, for the both of them, but soon realized that maybe new york wasn't all it was cut out to be after all. 

so she moved back to aston, thirteen years after she'd left.. hoping that maybe, just maybe life would start changing for her, that things would finally be okay and that she, along with everyone else could be happy.

PERSONALITY.

bella is literally a smol bean ??

like she's so kind to everyone even if they aren't the most friendly to her because ?? what if they were just ?? having a bad day ??

is v into the aesthetics of things ?? 

is also v minimalistic due to her growing up in the foster care system.

loves the color yellow ?? p sure she painted a few walls in her house yellow because she just... loves it that much.

however, if she's pissed off or trying to protect people she loves.... stay away from her... she might be smol, but girls got some fire in her.

is 110% into friendly cuddling ?? like ?? will curl up w anyone ?? just bc ?? she can ??

will also probably make everyone in aston cookies or a cake on their bday because she just wants people to be happy & if she can give ppl a reason to smile, she's happy too ??

has a reading corner in her house and sits there a lot bc it makes her feel v cosy and safe.

kinda... forgets to take care of herself tho bc... she's more worried about other people and their feelings so she just pushes hers back & locks them away.

actual floWER chiLD ??

intelligent af and loves anything that has to do w tech or computers, like if u put her infront of a screen.. she's so in her element i s2g.

absolutely loves her boring ass 9-5 desk job because she feels like what she does helps people a lot.

cries over cute animal videos and would love to own a puppy or kitten ( or both )

is scared af of thunderstorms ?? she curls up in a ball on her couch whenever one hits she haTES them.

will do anything and everything in her power to make people feel better because she hates when other people are sad.

also... if people get mad at her and raise their voice at her... she'll probs break down n cry or get v anxious or stressed bc she doesn't want ppl to be upset with her.

has a flower garden that she loves to death n cries if anything happens to her children.

is the type to volunteer at local food banks n things like that to try and give back to the community.

extremely weary when it comes to letting people in after the whole ex-fiance thing happened but fully believes that everyone still deserves a second chance.

someone could be threatening her life and she'd probably still be like "there's some good in them" bc.. that's how she is.

cannot.... handle stress v well. so if she gets stressed out about something she doesn't get a lot of sleep and just ?? internally freaks until things calm down.

she's HELLA a summer baby and will practically beg everyone to go to the beach w her whenever the weather permits because she loves the water.

doesn't drink all the time & is kinda a lightweight so when she does drink.. it doesn't take a ton to get her drunk.

speaking of, she's p clingy & touchy feely when she's drunk n will probs tell u she loves u a million times just so u know that.

probably a sub.... yeah she a sub...

can b pretty easily manipulated or pursueded into doing things bc !! you have to make ppl happy !! always !!

literally just a smol beb who's trying her best to make sure she leave the world a little bit better than she found it??

idk.... she's just... smol

STATS

BASICS

FULL NAME: isabella rose mercer. NICKNAME(S): isa, bella ( only freddie is allowed to call her this honestly ?? ) & rose. AGE: thirty. DATE OF BIRTH: june 5th. ZODIAC SIGN: gemini. PLACE OF BIRTH: aston, maine. GENDER: female. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: bisexual. RELIGION: christian. ( nonpracticing. ) OCCUPATION: data engineer. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: spanish, french, russian, welsh & english. ACCENT: american.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

FACE CLAIM: hayley atwell. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. EYE COLOR: brown. HEIGHT: 5′ 5″. WEIGHT: 120 LBS. BUILD: average.

PERSONALITY.

LABEL: the benevolent. POSITIVE TRAITS: selfless, loyal, intelligent. NEGATIVE TRAITS: diffident, quiet, naive. FEARS: astraphobia & arachnophobia. HOBBIES: baking, coding, reading books, watching tv, netflix, horseback riding, sewing, swimming. QUIRKS: believes in karma, fights for animals rights, fights for gender equality, fights for human rights, fights for marriage equality, counts stairs, enjoys camping, loves the smell of burning wood, loves board / video games, can solve a rubix cube. LIKES: fall, summertime, water, shopping, ice cream, nighttime, traveling, art, music, cuddling, movie / tv / netflix marathons, hiking, camping, horseback riding, working out, computers. DISLIKES: thunderstorms, snow, traffic, liars, hypocrites, cinnamon, spiders, snakes.

FAMILY.

FATHER: jordan david mercer. MOTHER: marie ann wallace-mercer. SIBLING(S): one, older brother. PET(S): none. FINANCIAL STATUS: middle to ( lower ) upper class.

TESTS

MYERS-BRIGGS: infj-t. ENNEAGRAM: type 2 ( the helper. ) TEMPERAMENT: melancholic. HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff.

#( & ooc. ) #as.intro #....com lov this smol bb #watch this not show up in the tags lmao rip me

[the3mmadil3mma]

January 23rd, 2017

This story begins on August 4, 1998. That was the day I was born. I was born into a loving family, the only child of my parents and the only grandchild of my grandparents. I spent my days at the center of attention. I am told that I was a very curious and social baby.

Three years later, my brother came along. We didn’t always get along, but we always loved each other.

Growing up, I was always a very happy kid. Whenever I could, I was playing with my friends or doing some sort of art project. I loved school. Yes, I was that kid that woke up ready to learn every day (I’m a nerd I know). At recess, my friends and I would play with fairies and try and escape the woodchip lava. We didn’t have a care in the world. Everyday was a new adventure that we couldn’t wait to go on.

Then cam middle school. Unlike most people, I actually really liked middle school. I didn’t care about what other people thought of me. I had the worst sense of fashion, only talked about Star Trek, and was afraid of breaking the rules, but I was still a happy kid.

I started high school with dreams of success. I wanted to get straight A’s, be valedictorian, and have a high school experience like you see in the movies. By October I had a boyfriend, great grades, and was having a blast. But this is where things started to change. I began to question my sexuality, which led to a lot of sleepless nights. By January, I had broken up with my boyfriend and had come out as a lesbian to a few close friends. February of 2013 was a hard month. I was just starting to have difficulty in my classes and I was still trying to accept the fact that I was gay. Then, one of my best friend’s dads passed away suddenly. He was my soccer coach and I had known him my entire life. He was like an uncle to me. The next few months were a rollercoaster of emotions. I started a relationship with my first girlfriend, had volleyball tournaments almost every weekend, and was very involved in band. I finished freshman year with straight A’s and plans for a great summer. I spent time with friends, went on some fun trips, and celebrated my 15th birthday. I had some of my best times that summer. 

By the time sophomore year started, I was feeling pretty good. But then, school started getting super stressful, I was busy with band and volleyball, and my girlfriend and I broke up. I didn’t know how to cope. Sophomore year was the first time I ever really had to study or work hard in school. The stress got to me. I started self-harming. I don’t really remember why I started, but once I did I couldn’t/didn’t want to stop. Some days I did it because I was sad, others because it was a pain I could control, but most days it was to feel something other than numb. My mother noticed around January of 2014 that I was feeling “down” so she sent me to my first therapist. I denied having a problem, she never even knew about my self-harm. I went in there every week and talked about nothing just so my mom would stop asking me about my feelings. I continued this pattern for a while until I had convinced my mom I was “okay”. At some point before summer I stopped self-harming because it’s really hard to hide when you’re wearing shorts. 

The summer after sophomore year was a weird summer. I felt okay most days. My depression had gotten much better. But, then I had summer PE. I had never been in love with my body, but it wasn’t until the summer of 2015 that I really started noticing. I began to get really anxious anytime I wore anything other than a t-shirt. I was unhappy with how I looked. So, I began to eat healthier. For three weeks during that summer, I was exercising nearly 8hrs a day between volleyball and PE. I don’t remember if I lost weight, but I do remember consciously thinking about what I was putting in my body and exercise for the first time. At the end of the summer every year I go to a summer camp. One thing we always have at camp is a ton of candy. I had told myself before the week started that this was going to be the last week I was going to have candy until Halloween. I had convinced myself that I was being extra healthy and that I didn’t need candy. It seems like a small thing, but this its where I began to spiral out of control.

Soon junior year started. I was still trying to eat healthy. It was harder than I thought. Going out with friends and getting junk food was just so much fun, especially after football games on Friday nights. I soon began to throw/give away parts my lunch. It started with cookies, then chips, and the my fruit. I soon stopped packing these items all together. Most days I would come to school with only a peanut butter sandwich, which I would throw in the trash as soon as I got there. Next I cut out breakfast. I would start every morning with unsweetened black tea, to give me energy. By late September I was only eating dinner every day. Soon, none of my clothes fit, I was cold all the time, and I spent every waking minute thinking about food. I would dread going out with friends. I was always anxious. I knew what I was doing. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t stop. I felt like I had no control over my life and so I found that control in what I put in my mouth. I lost 15lbs (10% of my body weight) in three months. This was my new form of self-harm. Sure, I hadn’t cut in 6 months, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t harming my body in other ways. And it didn’t do anything to help my depression. If anything, it made it worse. I hated everything about myself, and it showed. I was miserable. I couldn’t focus in class and I withdrew from my social life.

The holidays were the worst. Thanksgiving was a mix of anxiety and dread. I remember going on a run to “make up” for everything I was going to eat at dinner. The run was a blur and I almost passed out twice because I was pushing myself so hard. Since volleyball season was over, I had introduced over exercising into my routine. Thanksgiving night was awful. I spent a long time in the bathroom convincing myself not to throw up everything I had eaten. I was miserable and doing everything possible to hide it from my family.

Then it was finals week. I was so stressed I binged. Almost everyday I would eat so much food that my stomach felt like it was going to explode. But I managed to still get straight A’s, despite not being able to regulate my thoughts or my body temperature. Christmas was spent feeling guilty and depressed. I hated every minute of it. Then, I went to Hawaii with my family. I had to spend every meal with my family, so there was no way I could restrict. I remember constantly counting every calorie that I put in my body. I had given myself a 700 calorie a day limit. Of course I went over everyday, and that made me feel worse. While on vacation I started self-harming again. It was hard to hide because I was at the beach most days, but I managed to make it through without my mom figuring out. That was one of the worst vacations I have ever taken.

January of 2015 was a weird month. In the beginning of the month, I was determined to lose all the weight I had gained over the holidays. While dealing with that I became involved with a girl in my class. We spent almost the whole month texting and we almost stated dating. But, I realized that I was in no mindset to be in a relationship. She had her own mental health issues and in order for me to be there for her, I needed to be there for myself. So, I decided I was going to recover. On January 23rd, 2015 I broke off our friendship and began my journey in recovery. I wanted to recover for me, but I started it all for her. If I hadn’t met her, I don’t know where I’d be today. She gave me the push I needed and I will be forever grateful for that. This is the last photo I have of me before I started recovering. I look at it now and see a sick, weak, and deeply unhappy person. I never want to be her again.

I spent the first 6 weeks or so recovering by myself, without professional help. I followed a bunch of recovery accounts on Instagram, went grocery shopping for “safe” foods, and started eating more regularly. Soon, my mother noticed and confronted me about it. She asked if I wanted to see a therapist and I said yes. Starting therapy was hard for me. I’ve never been good at sharing my feelings. But just going somewhere to talk about life for an hour once a week helped. I didn’t share everything, she never even knew about my self-harm, but it definitely helped to talk thing out. I’m still in therapy today, two years later. 

Recovering from my eating disorder is one of the hardest things I have very done. I still battle with that voice inside my head everyday, telling me to restrict. Some days I’m good at blocking it out, but other days, like today for instance, I give in. I’m not done yet. I still have a long way to go, but I’m way better off than I was. My brain is still filled with the voices of depression, anxiety, and anorexia. I may have to hear them, but I don’t have to listen. Recovery is hard, but it’s not impossible. I have learned to take things one-step at a time. I have learned that not all days are going to be good days. I have learned that relapse is inevitable and a part of the process. I have learned to practice self-care/self love. 

I’m not always happy and I’m not always all right, but that’s okay. I will be on this journey my entire life, but it’s getting easier every day.

Today marks exactly two years of being in recovery. I hope by sharing my story it will show someone that they can recover too. 

To anyone that may need it:

You can recover. 

You will find happiness. 

You will learn to love yourself. 

It will be okay.

#me #tw #eating disorder #recovery #anorexia #1/23/17 #its okay i love you #recovery is possible