#why couldnt i have been born beautiful life would be so much easier

[omegaversereloaded]

another week of working hours late at work, burning myself out, coming home to no one, doing chores, watching tv and passing out in my bed alone with my stuffed animals

#the life of the working femcel is the loneliest in the world #why couldnt i have been born beautiful life would be so much easier

[bubblybubbubs]

Bland (1)

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Royalty AU

Summary: Draco Malfoy is the Prince of Ebery and hates being a royal so when he meets you he calls himself a different name to hide his royal status.

Warning: Cursing

AN: hope you guys like this i definitely have an idea to make this a series <3 also this was very roughly inspired by the barbie princess and the pauper movie . had to repost because it wasn’t showing up in tags the first time?

btw a governess according to google is like a royal nanny.

Draco Malfoy lead a bland life. He knew he was lucky to have the riches he had, to be born a prince of Ebery, but he truly had hated his life. He had hated waking up everyday to please everyone other than himself with the same court niceties.

It was selfish of him but he wanted to just be Draco, not ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Prince Draco’. The formalities were just a reminder of how his life had been decided for him the minute he was born.

He only had two real friends Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass, the only two tolerable members of the court.

Anyone else was ancient or insufferable, such as Vincent Crabbe his cousin who he could not stand. Crabbe was almost an exact opposite of Draco, which was interesting considering they had been raised by the same governess.

Crabbe was all too eager to jump at any chance of power, there were countless times he had told his grandfather how unfit Draco was to be King. There was little Crabbe wouldn’t do for the crown, Draco was lucky it wasn’t passed down or Crabbe might have killed to get his hands on it.

In Ebery the monarch would chose any one from his lineage to rule after his/her passing, this was always announced the day after the Monarch’s death which left a lot of animosity between the possible heirs.

Draco didn’t want the crown and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get it even if he did, Abraxos Malfoy wasn’t exactly his biggest fan. He didn’t remember a single conversation they had, they usually ended abruptly when the King decided he had enough family bonding time.

He hadn’t cared about the royal life or the crown. he had planned on leaving his dreadful life to a place where no one would know about Ebery and he would’ve done it, had it not been for y/n.

He met Y/N Y/L/N when he was disguised as a commoner with Blaise, and they both decided to go out on the town.

“Here put this hat on it’ll hide your hair.” Blaise said pushing a hat towards him. It was a big fedora that was an ugly shade of yellow, it looked about as old as him.

“It’s hideous, where did you even find this.” Draco groaned.

“It was all I could find with the short notice, we can go back to the castle if you’d like.” Before Blaise could continue Draco put on the huge hat making sure to hide his hair before they entered the pub.

“That girl is totally checking you out.” Blaise whispered when they sat down. Draco peered behind him to see a girl staring at him who had smiled when they made eye contact.

“Do you think she recognizes me.”

“I don’t know, go ask her.” Blaise said encouraging Draco to go talk to her. Draco straightened the smock he wore before going up to her.

“I was hoping you’d come talk to me.” She said grinning up from her drink.

“Really how come.” He said talking a seat next to her.

“A guy with a hat like that is bound to be intresting.” She chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I haven’t seen you around here, what’s your name.”

“Um my name is Julian and that’s my friend uh Norman.”

“I’m Y/N”

-

Draco had made a point to visit her as much as he could, he grew fond of her.

“In my bakery again Julian, one would think you like me.” The girl said as she stepped towards the counter to greet him.

“Maybe I do Y/N.” Draco said leaning against the counter . He definitely did, Blaise claimed it was obvious but if Y/N noticed she didn’t show it.

“I’m taking a break.” The girl yelled out towards the kitchen before grabbing Draco and heading to the streets quickly ditching her apron and hat.

“What’s with you and hats, every time I see you you’re wearing one. Are you bald?.” She said as they walked through the shops motioning to the flat cap he wore today.

Draco tensed. his hair would be a dead give away of who he was, almost every king in the Malfoy line had the same almost white hair . He knew it was inevitable she find out who he was but he liked the friendship they had and wanted to keep it that away as long as possible. Maybe he should go bald.

“I have a weirdly shaped head.” He stammered. He wanted to kick himself, was that really the best he could come up with. She still laughed.

“You’re strange Julian.” She said sorting through a box of junk a vendor was selling.

”Tell me something about yourself. I feel like you know everything about me but I know nothing about you.” She said walking towards a tree and plopping down.

“There’s not much to know.” He said sitting next to her.

“I doubt that.”

“Well im an only child-

“None of that boring stuff. What do you want to do with your life, what are your goals.” She said cutting him off.

Draco was quiet for a second, no one ever asked him what his goals were. Everyone just assumed he wanted to be King.

“I’m not sure, I’ve never really thought about it.” He said.

“What about you.”

“I want to travel the world and see everything and when I come back I’m going to be rich and take care of everyone who helped me when I was young.” He wasn’t surprised, from the little time they had known each other he could tell she had a fiery spirit with a big heart.

“Wait so you don’t want to be a baker?” He said feigning shock.

“A girl can only have so much bread in her life.”

“Can I come?” He asked facing you.

“huh?”

“When you travel the world, can i go with you?” His heart sped up, that was a stupid question they only had known each other for a month and there he was asking if they could travel together.

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” She said laying on his chest. He would do it, right there under that tree he promised himself he would go to the ends of the earth with her.

He imagined it, life with just the two of them traveling the world. No crown, no titles just the two of them.

“Do you have to go back to work.”

“My Dad will live if I skip one day of work.” She said grinning at him.

“Follow me then.” He said grabbing her by the hand.

“where are we going.” She asked.

“You’ll see.” Draco led Y/N through the streets swifting past the crowd of people in the streets and into the trees. The whole time she couldnt take his eyes off him, had she been less awestruck by him she would have noticed the Malfoy blonde hair his falling hood flashed.

“We’re almost there, close your eyes.” She did and let Draco lead her further she felt the floor under her get rockier.

“Careful.” He said holding her tighter by the hand.

She felt a cold breeze on her face. “We’re here, you can open your eyes.” She opened her eyes and she was standing on a small cliff that stood over a beautiful lake that shimmered almost magically.

He watched for her reaction carefully. This had been his favorite spot in all of Ebery growing up, whenever his mother hadn’t been busy she would take him here and they would swim together, then they would watch the sunset .

“Where are we.” She said furrowing her brow.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not that well known, I was thinking it could be our little place.” She smiled widely, Draco never wanted to forget what she looked like that day so happy and carefree.

“I’d like that.” She then noticed the castle that stood tall above the trees across the lake. “Is that the castle.” He nodded.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the castle it’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He said turning her to face him. He had known it the day he first saw her, the smile she had sent his way had knocked the wind out of him.

She blushed “I really like you Julian.” Draco was stricken by guilt and he really did want to tell her truth but how could he when things were so good. So he kissed her and just like that Draco’s life seemed a lot less bland.

——————————————-

lil extra

“Norman, why does my name have to be fucking norman.”

“I was nervous, and your dumb hat didnt make it any easier.”

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #Draco #draco malfoy x reader #royalty au #blaise zabini #daphne greengrass #second try #slytherin #draco malfoy #hp

[dredreadsdrawing]

Oc-tober Day 27: Fantasy

A bunch of my isekai ocs with original stories. Oofy. I will make the quickest of beginnings for em. These don’t tell the whole story, just how it starts and maybe some future details. I got carried away with some lol. Also, please don’t mind the absurd names XD I couldnt think of any, and isekais tend to have weird names anyways lol. Looking at you Miss Sidekick.

1. Second Best: Probably the one I have planned out the most and have even written like the entire plot for in a Quickie Summary ill post another time. This started as an isekai, but uh, i found no need for her to be reincarnated after I developed the story more. Still, the original inspiration for this was isekai lol.

Born in a lower noble family with high ambitions, when she was born plain, they planned to push her to be educated, but an accident defaced her at the age of three and that was it for them. They saw her as a lost cause and found it easier to give up on her. They were having another child anyways. So she was kept in the old, secluded wing of the estate, raised by maids and a single ill-kept tutor while her sister, born blessed and pretty, was spoiled. It happens. The protagonist is restless and takes to running away from the estate, going into the neighboring woods to explore. One day she finds a crying boy, hiding from his servants. She helps him and after hearing him out, they create a childish plan. To murder his step mother.

2. The Villlainess's Lackey:

A girl, let's call her Bronze, is reincarnated into an otome game she played nonstop. She was a hardcore fangirl of a particular character. Not the love interests, or the protagonist named Gold, but the hidden villainess that showed up once the characters graduate. Silver, the protagonists's own best friend turned jealous. Our girl is reincarnated as the lackey of the fake villainess, just a cliche bully trying to kick the protagonist out of high society. Bronze isn't too pleased about being stuck with her. She instead gets to working in the shadows, cornering Silver and spilling the beans on the game's entire story. On how Silver would lose. But not to worry! Bronze will meddle and lie and cheat and perhaps even murder for Silver! Silver is confused and refuses, but comes to accept the help with time. So far everything Bronze predicted has come true. But one thing she believed is wrong. Silver didn't rebel because she was jealous Gold got a guy she liked. She was jealous because she loves Gold. Love triangle shennanigans ensue.

3. To Serve (another that started as isekai but isn't anymore lol)

Eclair is a clumsy new maid, forced to take the job when her parents kicked her out. She was hired to a manor the owners never visit only to use her as a scapegoat. Her job: to take care of the young master. To her surprise, the boy of nine years is malnourished and neglected, the staff predicting his death soon. Unable to give up on such a young boy, Eclair uncovers the mystery on why he's kept secret. He's half fae, and part of his sickness is due to lack of magic. So she goes on a quest to get the boy an artifact to keep him alive, and on the way... Her clumsy ass dies. Her spirit pops out, much to her surprise, and she watches her body get up. A new aura around herself. It seems a wanted criminal has recently been caught and killed, but his soul latched on to the nearest body. Now they have to share it. (lol, yaddayadda he agrees to help the kid, they get the artifact, he slips and dies as he tries climbing the manor windows and she returns to her body with him as a spirit now, she nurses the child but as soon as he is better the fsther wants to just outright murder him so they flee the household to travel to the Fae country and along the way they get closer. Also Eclair is a lesbian and the criminal is gay and their attraction to a nonbinary stranger is a mess they need to make a peace treaty with. :'D)

4. Just a Bystander:

A gal is reincarnated as the first love interest of the Hero of the story. She's meant to be kind, passive, a stepping stone for the Hero to later abandon for more beautiful and powerful women. A stupid role in a story. Because she denied her reincarnation so much, the dick god made her mute. Still, she won't be a pawn. Before the Hero even arrives to the orphanage they meet at, she teaches herself how to read and write, a skill most adults in the village don't have. Once he arrives, the encounters start the same, but our protagonist doesn't play along. The Hero is a brat with a complex already and she ignores every bit of it, making him simultaneously dislike her and try harder to get her attention. His attempts end in a terrible clash where he is supposed to save her from a beast, bearing a scar from being hit by it, but the roles are reversed and she gets hit in the face. In the frenzy, the Hero pulls a sacred sword and is revealed to be the one legends speak of. The adults make a big deal out of his newfound glorious fate, but among the chatter comes the concern of the protagonist's face. She's already mute, and now she's been mutilated. She doesn't have much chance at marriage. She's personally not too sad about it, but to her dismay, the Hero takes it too seriously. He proposes to her and they get 'engaged' (these are children, this promise is entirely on his word, she never agreed to this). Before he goes to get trained in the capital, she gives him a letter he can't read. He takes it as a lover's note and for all the time he spends learning in the academy, he finally deciphers the looong note. It's detailed accounts of how he misinterpreted everything she did and how she has no interest in him at all. And by the time he goes back to the village she will be gone. He runs away on a stolen horse to confront her but it proves true. She got a job with a passing merchant in copying script without telling anyone and is long gone. So begins her independent life.

5. The B-Plot:

Cedar is reincarnated into a game where she is the Villainess, the one to bully the Heroine for seducing her fiancee the prince. In the story, after she is confronted, she is incarcerated and later killed in a fight with the evil forces. Cedar does not want this. So since an early age, she looks for ways out, and surprisingly comes to find she can use magic. Since this was never mentioned in the game, and magic is so rare, she hides this. With research, she realizes her engagement with the prince will mean she gives up over half her magic capabilities to him. That explains it. She will fix this. Once the time comes for her to be engaged to the Prince, she requests to add amendment to the contract, to the surprise of the adults, but they allow it. Her only addition; if three hidden words are spoken that all clauses from the engagement nullify. She would keep her magic. The adults don't realize the extent of this addition, but she holds it dear. As years go by, she trains with what little she has. She makes plans. She realizes the neighboring country is the same as a shounen novel's own isekai series and she seeks to explore it after her ban. She is ready. But.... She has also come to befriend the prince. He's an earnest kid that looks up to her. It's hard to believe his innocent voice would be the death of her. But her resolve is tight and she knows what will come. After he goes on a mission to retrieve the Transmigated Heroine, his attitude shift is clear. And he pubicly shames her at their graduation party, as foretold. Instead of crying, she asks him to repeat his words. He does. "I hate you." The air crackles as her magic comes back with force, draining him of it. She's back to full power, and it's more than she remembered. Everyone looks on with fear as she laughs. She's free. She's sad but she's free. She bids then farewell as she snaps her fingers. She teleports to her room where everything is packed. Then she teleports to the hidden shack outside school campus. She's drained after those big moves, but she has one last thing to do. A potion she brewed that just needed a little magic. She drinks it. And transforms. She won't be Cedar anymore. He will be Oak. And he's going to find the Hero of the neighboring country and join his party.

6. The Selfish Route

A kid is reincarnated as Felicia, the protagonist of a novel where both princes of the land dote on her and she marries into Queendom. Felicia lives without her parents in a manor. The staff mostly takes care of her, as her parents are diplomats and move from country to country. While she has been shown love, she’s always been a nervous wreck, pushing herself hard to get everything right as to not be seen as uneducated by her circumstances. Instead, she is seen as perfect, as she makes a big splash at the first party she attends. She regained her memory at the same age she died, now ten years old and already having met both princes at said party were they were stunned by her. If she remembers the story correctly, the first prince will visit first, named Nicole, then the second prince, named Arthur. She’s back to being nervous and decides to play things as they were written in the story. Going off track feels dangerous! Nicole is written as intelligent and kind. It should be simple enough... But her first visit... completely fails. She stumbles over herself too much, her posture and manners lack, and her gaze never meets the prince’s. He might have been written as kind, but seeing the nervous Felicia, he’s disappointed. He leaves early, and Felicia’s fear solidifies. She’s not as good as the real protagonist was. She can’t sleep that night, and come morning, her staff notices. They crowd her with love and affection, telling her they know her true worth, and that no matter what, they will always be on her side. This comforts her somewhat, and she decides for today’s visit to think outside the box. The second prince is adventurous and daring. She’s still nervous, but when he arrives, she’s already put on clothes for the outside and has a picnic ready. She tells him they’re spending the day outside. He’s confused, but agrees. Their time is spent playing games, eating snacks, and having fun. It ends with them watching the sun begin to set while under a big tree. Then they get to talking. She asks him what he likes to do, and his response is long and convoluted. But it’s essentially this. His brother is better than him at everything. She shakes her head and gets an attitude. She didn’t ask him about his brother. She asked what ARTHUR likes to do. When he doesn’t respond, she makes fun of him. He’s so worried about not being the same as his brother, but he doesn’t have anything he likes. He’s boring. This gets him to respond, and in defending himself, he realizes he does enjoy certain things more than others. Horses and riding them, weapons, learning about the forest and terrain. So she asks him why he isn’t trying to do more of that, instead of barging in on all of his brother’s lessons. Arthur takes this thought to heart, and as he gets up to leave he laughs. He tells her she’s weird, and she starts getting visibly offended. He defends himself, it’s a good weird. He was scared when he learned his brother visited her first, because he’s terrible at formal meetings, but she made this fun. She takes this compliment to heart as well, and as he leaves, she resolves to live the rest of the story not trying to follow the protagonist. But herself. And part of that change, as the year goes by, is her realizing she’s trans. He’d much rather live as a boy. His household is concerned at first, but they slowly become more supportive. It’s the same child, just named Felix now. His parents come to prepare for his coming-of-age ceremony and he’s nervous but he tells them. To his surprise, they accept him. They’ve learned a lot in their many travels, and have broadened their views. In their eyes, this country should do the same, and it’s a pleasure to have their son be the one to start it. They’ll always support him. Nice family moment. Ever since the prince visit, he hasn’t gone to more parties, having been too nervous. But he’s been the talk of nobles his age due to the second prince starting rumors. After he tried rubbing his good day in Nicole’s face, the first prince called him out for liking such a brutish girl. He said they suited eachother. From this little comment, Arthur spiraled. With Felix’s advice, he focused on his training instead of his studies, made friends and became better. But when asked about the interest he showed in the young Felicia at that tea party, he resorted to talking shit. She’s not a well-mannered little lady, she’s a weird girl. Everyone knew now, and waited eagerly for her to make a fool of herself in her coming-of-age ceremony. When the invitations were sent, to Felix’s surprise, one was rejected. The first prince’s. He saw it as a waste of time since he already judged he didn’t like him. Felix becomes scared again, but not over himself. Over the villainess, Lily, who is supposed to be comforted by the prince after being mocked at by other noble children. The day of his ceremony, Felix resolves himself to escape his staff and go watch. He hopes someone else can help her. But as he waits and hears her crying, he realizes no one will. So he steps in. She’s startled, but he calms her down. He’s clumsy in his approach, but sincere. He asks what’s made her sad, and she can’t help to be honest. She tells him that her family makes powerful enemies, and their children always target her. They pick at all her flaws, but the biggest is that she is abnormally tall. Felix comforts her and reassures her that her height adds to her uniqueness. She’s beautiful, and they’re just jealous she can easily be the center of attention. She doesn’t agree. Being the center of attention has been bad in her book. Felix laughs nervously. On that, he can agree. So he gets up instead, and promises her she won’t have people’s eyes on her for the rest of the night. When she asks why, he tells her to go look at the host reveal. He leaves and she gets up. Just as she reaches the rest of the party, the music stops and Felicia’s name is announced. Everyone waits in anticipation to see if Arthur’s rumors were true. Then the speaker changes the name to Felix instead, and out walks the boy that talked to Lily, his mother holding his arm. They dance and the room stares, some laughter hidden poorly behind hands. When the dance is over, it’s customary to wait for volunteers to start a second dance. Only then can everyone join in. Felix waits. And waits. Seconds keep flying by. No one is coming. He expected this, and resolved his heart for it, but still, he’s panicking. Just as he’s about to call it quits, he hears footsteps and looks up at Lily. She asks if she can have the honor of his second dance. He agrees. As they go through the motions, he asks her, didn’t she hate being the center of attention. She told him she does, but if she’s going to have people staring at her anyways. She smiles as they pause. She might as well have a friend by her side with the same problem. He can’t help his own smile from forming, and for the rest of the night they stick close. So starts their beautiful friendship <w< and mayhaps something more.

#traditional art #oc-tober #oc tober #sketches #Fantasy #Isekai #Oof #Isekais #Pencil sketches #trans #transman #trans boy #lgbtq #gay #lesbian

[narakussy]

i’m having them biracial blues and this is 100% a rant about my life written in some weird ass...i dont know man, i got up in my feelings and it’s hardly coherent but

gif credit, cuz i couldn't get it in the actual gif adder thing

i dont think ill ever forget schoolyard taunts about my thick, black body hair. or that my eyes were demonic because if the light didn’t shine just right, they could almost be black. or that my eyebrows were too big and oh they can see a little bit of hair connecting between them. i never forgot when the girls who were supposed to be my friends started calling me broccoli nose because it’s wider than theirs, you see. or when the boy i had a crush on and a boy who’d always been my friend decided that instead of friend, i should be their yard workers or maids or harvesting their food but its funny ha ha cuz that’s what mexicans do! i wont forget that my hair was boring and why is there so much of it? why is it frizzy? “because i dont have that problem!” said the girl with strawberry hair. and the color! black, but just shy of the inkiness that is beautiful.

i won’t forget that my skin was brown or that the little girl i ran into at toys-r-us, excited and chatty because she’s a friend i thought, walked away with her mother berating “you didn’t tell me she was mexican!” as i stand next to my red-haired, light skinned cousin. i wont forget that no one could say my name proper and it was never worth the effort to try and it didn’t matter if they’d known me for years because it was too foreign on their tongue and it didn’t matter. but heaven forbid i didnt properly pronounce theirs because “its not that hard!!!!” it’s only hard when its attached to someone like me, right? even when it comes from europeans just the same, forced onto my people like the blood of theirs in my veins as a result of their violence.

i’ll never forget thinking my abuser of seven years was so beautiful, right to the very end. i wont forget being eight years old and fighting against fear every time i saw her but going all the same because she was all golden hair and ocean eyes and certainly that means shes good. even as she tells me to shave my hands, my stomach, get rid of the nasty hair that makes me look like an ape. even as she tells me my mouth is too big, my lips look like they’ve been stung. i suppose we are taught, then, from youth to see beauty in our aggressors. for how lucky we are, just to be in their presence. i felt that, in some obscure way. desperately and with all of my being i felt that and hoped and prayed and wished that i could be her.

that i could look like her. it was all i wanted, to look like her because maybe then the world would look at me and see something pretty. something worthy of love. beautiful, and good in all the ways i was told - even without words - that i couldnt be. something worthwhile.

i wanted to look like the mom who raised me. the one i wanted to be perfect for even when she never asked me to be, never even implied it. because to her, i already was. she always told me i was beautiful. braided my hair and kissed my cheek and told me all the things i got from my family that lived across the country, some still in mexico, and why it was such a beautiful thing. do you know what it’s like, that the person who sees you as a treasure is the one no one would ever connect you to? to go out with your mom and your two friends, and people are shocked to hear that youre her child and not the blue eyed blondes? even with her brown hair and hazel eyes and no features to share besides, it was more believable that they were her daughters rather than you.

their only similarity being the color of their skin and yet the message is clear even if you can’t articulate it: you couldn’t possibly be from her, someone who belongs to the group that sets the standard for beauty and worthiness.

that wasn’t me, brown skinned and dark haired and with every feature that runs strong in my papa’s family. my tia said it herself, when i was born. “oh julie, im so sorry. she has the family nose” because she knew, too. my beautiful tia who has no need for shame and she knew that my moms whiteness couldn’t protect me because their features showed full force in me, left no place for my mom’s family to show itself.

i wont forget that the world told me from day one that i was less than. i would always be less than. it’s awful funny, that i lost my love of the outdoors when i first heard that it darkened you. no more summer days spent in the pool, fingers pruning but refusing to get out. no more bike rides, gone in the morning and returned by dinner. no more outdoors karaoke or baton twirling in the driveway. the tree i once loved is abandoned and the branches i’d climbed till i couldn’t any longer grow weak and lonely with time, missing the child who’d settle in and fall asleep in its branches. the warmth of the sun was something i deprived myself of for years with only the wishes of lightening my skin, getting rid of just one of the many things that separated me from everything i thought i should be.

but i found that it didn’t matter how pale i became. because, you see, it’s not a lightness that indicates whiteness. its an “i havent seen sunlight in a year” kind, one that doesn’t fool many and never for long. and how could it? my name would betray my heritage even if my features didn’t.

at twenty-eight, i still havent recovered. i havent learned how to live under the sun again. i havent learned to rediscover that kid that would wait for the weekend and the adventures it’d bring, step outside my door and into the sunlight and stay there in the world, under the heat of the sun until it started retreat into the night.

i wont forget that all expectations of me were based around what i looked like, what they saw in my name. how surprising it was, that i might know things. how unexpected it was, that i understood anything. after all, how could i deign to perform better than some of the other girls, the ones that were expected to go places when it was quite clear where most people expected me to end up.

it didn’t take long, for anger to show itself because it was easier to show that than shame, sadness. it’s strange, that at twelve, a black girl calling me a “white bitch” was offensive for the first part rather than the last. white...white....the thing i wanted to be and yet i was angry when she called me that. angry even if i didnt understand why, at the time. but i do now. i understand the fury in my bones at that moment when she pushed me and i swung back, a kid noted for being quiet and well behaved because i couldnt believe that she saw that.

that because i was not darker then my struggle did not matter. that because i did not look like her, then my disadvantage didn’t exist. the one thing id yearned to be a part of felt like a fist to the gut to be sided with because...i wasn’t. it was the first time i realized that maybe there wasn’t a place for me. that i’d be doomed to be too white for all the people who could empathize with my struggles and too brown for all the people who’d been a source of them.

and it only got worse when people would thing, for appearance, that it was better. but its not a compliment to be fifteen and having a guy hit on you because he “likes them spicy” wink-wink, nudge-nudge. it’s not a compliment when someone wants you to be his spicy hot tamale. even when the things that were detriments about me aged into something desirable, it was twisted and tainted and never felt like anything close to acceptance.

and then....and then to get out of all of it, all those moments that tore me down and made me ashamed to be who i am and realize the beauty in my features, in my wide nose and big lips and dark hair all over my body. to learn to love these features that mark me as part of a people with a history so rich and roots so deep into the soil of this continent...to learn these things and fight against all those ideas and people who ever made me feel otherwise and then be told that it is not my place. that it isn’t true, what i said. that i am pale and so that means i am white and i don’t know racism because my mom is white.

it’s a unique thing, to be biracial, and i dont think people talk about that enough. one foot in one history, the other in another. both but not enough for either to accept you. and i know that truth, too. i remember family gatherings with my moms family. i remember feeling always like my brother and i were julie’s little mistakes. oh sure the words were not spoken but in a sea of white people who married white people and had white children...the contrast makes you aware.

aware that you are not a fit. aware that they will love you only if you never bring up your papa, never bring up the aggression against you simply for existing as a product of love and understanding between people from such different worlds. little whispers about your papa that you wont understand for years as your mom shakes her head no, no, he’s a good man because her love has never gone. changed, perhaps, from what it was. but steadfast and true. they criticize him for his drug problem but she tells of a man who always took responsibility for his failings, always admitted his wrongs, never harmed a hair on our heads.

a good man who is sick but a good man nonetheless.

both, but never fully one or the other. and they let you know that, too. even the ones you’d thought all your life were the few that accepted you fully. but then you argue, you fight to defend your people against the new husband of a cousin you loved so much. the anger...the anger feels like a heart about to explode because it isn’t all anger. its fear and sadness and hurt and the anger is what you grasp onto, inflate as you stand shaking to take a breath, get distance before a panic attack has set in. you do that a lot in life.

and you hate crying but you sit on the front porch doing it anyways. your mom knows better than to follow but your aunts dont. so they come and they talk and they try to ask whats upsetting because well we were talking politics, people don’t always agree.and you scream, voice breaking “he’s talking about my people!” because how could you have ever identified with whiteness? but you don’t find understanding or comfort. only your favorite aunt, the one you loved for so many years, the one you thought accepted you no matter what, says with just as much passion: “we’re your people!”

and you realize, in your mid-twenties after a lifetime of being mistaken, that the acceptance is only if you throw away a part of yourself. that only if you will forget your mexican half do you matter. that they would prefer to forget you’re not white because how can they possibly love you if you arent?

it’s a lonely thing, too. because your papa is sick and he did not do right by you in the all right ways. and you spend your childhood missing him, wanting to live with him because living with mom is too painful if that’s what it will be like. but it bitters, too. childish ignorance cant last forever and for years you are angry, furious, refusing to see his sickness as that and instead as a choice he made.

he chose to leave you. to stay with a woman who looks like him, to create a child who belongs. one who learns his native language and gets all that you dont. the good and the bad. it....hurts, that the first words your little brother says to you are in a language you cant understand because your father...he lived far away for so long and where else could you learn when your mom can’t speak it, either? he’s three and spanish will be his first language and age will bring anger that this is so when your attempts through your life just never seem to work.

you just cant seem to make the words right. they feel wrong on your tongue and youre sure it’d make anyone who knows the language laugh.

people often dont get why i am offended by being called white. because well, im not, for one. sure, my skin is pale but my features are not those of a white person. to reduce it to that is so offensive when my experience has been lived as a person of color. it’s rare that people assume i’m white. and yea, it makes me mad when they do.

because i haven’t benefited from whiteness. i have never been treated as it. ive noticed people treat me poorly by my name alone, before they’ve even seen me. my MOTHER has noticed this. she kept my fathers name and she’s told me before appointments made at new places, she is often regarded more rudely but when she shows up and they see her whiteness, it changes.

for me, though, the biggest indicator is that other mexicans seem to....know. its a blessing and a curse. its adorable when little mexican kids come up to me, start trying to say something in spanish. it makes me feel this...wanting. to be a part of that culture, to learn more that i havent been able to because im across the world from everyone who was meant to connect me to it. but it hurts, too, because its another realization of my defect.

that i am a part of them, but only partly. and not everyone is so kind. some will see my distance from my heritage as sign enough that im not a part of it at all.

this...really got away from me and honestly, i dont even feel like ive really scratched the surface. this wasn’t meant to be a “poor me” but to be honest.....just because people have it worse than i do, and i KNOW they do, doesn’t make my suffering less significant.

so much in my life i have been told my people of color that i cant say anything and i have no right to it and this and that and whatever because my skin is pale. some try to make me say im white passing if i must engage but you know what...fuck that

if i was white passing, this post wouldn’t exist.

#personal #man this got away fromme aklfhjlakdjfkajh #LEGIT LIKE A RUNAWAY TRAIN #it was borne of a post i was gonna make about something i noticed about my writing and then it segued into me having emotions #look i dont talk about like....this a whole lot #basically cuz ive been shamed into not talking about it lmao #i dont expect this to be read cuz its yanno mostly for me but #its...nice if you do? #idk how to explain this but if you read this post i just wanna say like...thanks for caring enough about what i have to say to read it #that means a lot #i feel like the contents of this would be obvious but lmao #racism cw #abuse cw #uhhh idk what else #i dont think im missing anything

[unicornofdanger]

The Girl from the South

Author’s Note: I’m going to make this two parts because I had an idea for it but then it completely changed once I started writing. I am very happy with how this turned out and I can’t wait to start the second part. I have always loved writing for Game of Thrones even if I’m not caught up with the show. I have 12 or 13 one shots that I’m working on that should be posted in the next couple of weeks. I hope that you guys like this.

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Masterlist & Prompt Lists

Game of Thrones Prompt List

Requested by @lxdyred

Robb Stark x Reader

14. “This isn’t going to be a war. It’s going to be a massacre.”

33. “I’m with him. For better or for worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him.”

57. “Turn the pain into power, darling.”

58. “I love it when someone insults me. That means that I don’t have to be nice anymore.”

59. “Yes, I’m a bitch, but not yours.”

Word Count: 2,952

Warnings: Language, Mention of War

It was a chilly day at Winterfell. The cold wind found ways to seep through every crap and send shivers down peoples' spines. Y/n was bundled up in her furs as she walked down the corridor. She hadn’t been there long, only being married to the oldest Stark boy for a few months. She had just been in the North long enough to not enjoy the cold. Many people had told her that she would get used to the weather, but they were all from cold parts of Westeros as well.

Y/n was from southern Dorne, which was warner compared to its counterpart. It was probably all around better than it’s counterpart if Y/n were to give her honest opinion. Dorne had beautiful buildings, castles that towered over its many cities. When Y/n thought of Dorne she thought of color. She thought of the many different flowers that bloomed in the spring and how they were present throughout the summer. Thinking of Donre was thinking of warmth, of color, of the sun touch bare skin.

The North didn’t conjure such thought. It was cold and dark. It brought about weather that no one enjoyed, yet they stayed there. The North was a horrible place to live, people were able to find joy in it somehow. But Y/n wasn't sure that she would have moved there if it wasn’t for her parents. The North was cold and the people weren’t as welcoming to newcomers. They wanted to keep their traditions and beliefs intact and they thought that people from other parts of Westeros were a threat to that. That those people didn’t understand the history behind what they did.

Whether Y/n enjoyed her time in Winterfell didn’t matter, she couldn’t go back home. Catelyn, Robb’s mother, had made it clear from day one that she was to stay at Winterfell and do her “duty”. Y/n hoped that she didn’t mean just bear children because she did not want that to be her only job in life.

“Y/n!” Sansa called from down the hall. Y/n turned to see the oldest Stark girl approach her, needlepoint in hand. Y/n was glad that she was able to get out of that boring task. Her sisters used to force her to do it with them, gossiping about other girls their age the whole time. “I finally finished the fox,” she told her sister-in-law when she was close enough.

Sansa handed the piece of cloth over, Y/n took it from the girl, running her fingers over the little orange and red fox. In the center of the fabric was an orange and red fox that was surrounded by purple and pink flowers and grass. “It’s beautiful,” she stated, handing it back.

“I thought you would like it,” she beamed. “I had trouble and messed up a couple of times on the stitching, but I finally got it.”

Y/n nodded as the two walked down the hall, side by side. Sansa was one of the only members of the Stark family who treated her with more than respect. She treated her like a friend. Like a sister. Robb’s parents acknowledged that Y/n deserved to be treated well, but they never went out of their way to be friendly and welcoming to her. She would have thought that Catelyn would have since she was married off to Lord Stark years before. She was the only one who would know how Y/n felt. The youngest Stark boys didn’t really pay her much mind as they were busy with their studies or playing around when they were away from their mother. Arya... she was indifferent. She spent much of her time with Y/n, but only because she wanted to escape her mother’s grasp and Catelyn thought that Y/n would try and make Arya act like the lady she was supposed to be. Y/n never cared what Arya didn’t in her presence as long as it made the girl happy. And for Jon Snow, Robb’s bastard brother, the two never spent much time together. He was always keeping himself busy with whatever there was to do.

“What gave you the idea for the fox,” Y/n asked Sansa as they turned a corner, passing a couple of servants.

“Well,” she started, fiddling with the cloth. “Arya doesn’t care much for needlework, but you do. And... well, I thought that you would appreciate having a reminder of your home, your family. They are more important than anything else in life.”

Y/n nodded. Her family had been her life for so long, the day she left them was the worst day of her life. She had to say goodbye to her older brothers and noisy sisters. She missed sitting around the table at their estate, arguing over whatever her brothers brought up. She missed how friendly they were. They were warm and welcoming and everything that Winterfell was not. She missed their laughter and the competitive sword fights that her brothers would get in. She missed being around them. Turning a corner and seeing them there.

Sansa was right, Y/n did appreciate the little fox. It was the symbol of her house. It was the symbol of what her family stood for and no marriage, no union, would change the fact that Y/n was a Y/l/n. No distance, no weather, no man, no king, no nothing could change the fact that she was born a Y/l/n and she would die one as well.

At that moment, she understood why people of the North were wary of those from the rest of Westeros. Everyone held different customs and traditions. In Winterfell, the men of the Stark family executed those that deserved to lose their heads. That was one of there traditions. In Y/n’s family, women were trained alongside the men to maim and kill. They were taught to be more than just pretty objects that men used whenever they pleased. And that was their tradition. Because of that, because of her upbringing, her family’s tradition, people weren’t too fond of house Y/l/n. Many agreed that women should be treated with respect, but few agreed that they should be treated with the same respect as men. So, when Y/n first arrived at Winterfell, she always told people that what they believed of her upbringing was a myth. A lie made up to ruin her family’s reputation. It made it a little easier to adjust. Only a little.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sansa. And that little fox-” Y/n pointed to the cloth. “- shows just how talented you are.”

Later that night, everyone was gathered in the dining hall for dinner. Y/n was seated next to Robb, who was talking to Bran about he needed to work on his archery. The poor boy hadn’t been able to catch a break as Arya would always come in a shoot his target before he could. Y/n believed that he was simply nervous. Eyes were always on him, watching his every move. The poor boy only wanted to impress his family, yet there stares prevented him from it.

Robb turned to his wife, tired of fighting with Bran about his stance. “How was your day, darling?”

Y/n took a sip of wine before answering. She wished that he would learn to ask other questions as that was the only one he ever seemed to ask her for the three months they’d known each other. “My day was well. Sansa made it better by showing me the needlepoint that she completed. She’s a very talented girl.”

Sansa blushed, trying not to look up from her food.

“Yes, my sister is very talented with a needle,” he noted, getting a glare from Arya who was not talented or interested in needlepoint. Something that members of her family liked to point out.

Y/n returned to her food when a servant appeared at her side, handing her a folded piece of paper. She took the paper, thanking them before they ran off to fill empty wine glasses. No one seemed to care too much about the paper that was in her hands as everyone seemed to have turned the attention to some lord who was going to be visiting in a few weeks time. Y/n unfolded the note, reading what a was written in a foreign tongue. It was her mother’s first language as her family moved to Westeros when she was only a child. She grew up speaking it and that was often the language that her family used to communicate with as few knew it.

“That son of a bitch,” Y/n muttered under her breath as she stood from the table. The Stark family could only watch as she stormed out of the dining hall, unaware of what she had finished reading.

Walking out into the courtyard, Y/n saw a man leaned up against one of the wooden beams. The sun had set a few hours before, the only light being that of the torches that lined the courtyard. Y/n stood in the archway that lead out to the courtyard, observing the man. He looked nothing like any man in Winterfell with his tan skin and light hair, both weathered from the sun.

“And there is my lovely sister,” the man said, turning from the beam. In two steps her was by her side, trying to wrap her in a hug.

Y/n fought him off, to pissed off with him to want any affection. “What the hell is this?” she asked, waving the note in his face. “You can’t be fucking decent and talk to me in front of them!”

Her brother only laughed, his y/e/c shining under the torch lights. “Is that all you care about?” He walked around her, circling her like prey. “What they think of you? Are you ashamed of where you come from, Y/n? Who your family is?”

Y/n shook her head. Y/b/n was doing what he always did. He found delight in ruffling people’s feathers. In pissing them off, hoping that they would swing at him. He had a way of getting into fights and justifying that it wasn’t his fault. And Y/n hated him for it as she was often his target. “Why are you here?”

He clicked his tongue, stopping in front of her. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. She loved her brothers, all of them, but sometimes they had a way of making her hate them. “You want to know how I feel?” Her brother nodded. “Okay, well these people,” she pointed to the doors, “are who I am forced to live with, dine with, and be around until I die! The rest of my life will be lived here! I care what they think because it affects how I am treated, how I am respected!” As her voice grew louder and she grew angrier, her husband and his father and brother peeked their heads out of one of the doors leading to the courtyard, concerned since she hadn’t returned to her food. “I am not ashamed of my family, Y/b/n! I am not ashamed of where I come from or how I was raised, how we were raised! I am only ashamed of how others look at us, thinking that we are the enemy! How they treat us, thinking they know everything about us when they never care to even share a word with us!”

Her brother sighed, growing impatient with her. “Are you done?”

Y/n wrapped herself in her arms, cursing herself for not bring some layers with her. The wind from earlier had stopped but that hadn’t kept it from being cold out. Y/n had a feeling that the ground would be frozen, covered in a thin layer of frost, in the morning. “Only,” she paused, poking her brother in the shoulder, “if you tell me what the hell this is about.”

Y/b/n shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered to himself about how cold Winterfell was. Neither of them were used to the weather, but at least he didn’t have to live with it for the rest of his life. “The note explains it all,” was all he said.

Setting her jaw, Y/n glared up at him. How her brothers could be so difficult! It wasn’t just one, it was all of them. Y/b/n simply learned it from the others. “No. It. Doesn’t.”

Robb moved where he stood, walking over to be by his wife’s side. He was bundled up in furs, smart enough to grab them before he came out. “What’s going on here?”

Y/n glanced at him, not in the mood to answer his question. Behind him she could see his father and Jon standing outside the door, ready to jump into to the mess if necessary. They wouldn’t have to, Y/n didn’t intend to hurt her brother. Not yet, anyway. When her brother didn’t answer, Y/n did for him. “Fine. Maybe it does. I just don’t know what you bastards think you're going to accomplish with this,” she gestured to the note. “This isn’t going to go over well for anyone and I hope to the fucking gods that you did not come here to ask me to be a part of this.”

“And what if I did?”

Robb looked between the two siblings, confusion written on his face. He wasn’t sure if stepping in would solve the problem as Y/n looked like she was about to murder someone. She was showing him a side of her that he had never witnessed before and he was entirely sure how to handle that.

“You stupid bastards!,” Y/n yelled turning away from her brother. She couldn’t stand one more minute of the cold northern air or the stupid southern man. “This- whatever the fuck you want to call it- this isn’t going to be a war. It’s going to be a massacre. And I don’t want to be involved! I don’t want to watch thousands of people die for no fucking reason!”

Y/b/n rubbed the back of his neck as Robb and he watched her walk across the courtyard towards Eddard and Jon.

In their mother tongue, her brother yelled at her as she grew closer to the men. “It’s always you that has to go and be a fucking bitch! You know that! You seem to forget that we have no choice in this ‘massacre’ as our allies across the damn waters are waging this war!”

Y/n stopped dead in her tracks. Her family always found a way to force her into situations that she didn’t want to be in. Her father made arrangements with Lord Stark to have her marry there oldest child. That left her stuck in a land where she could easily freeze to death. And now this! Yes, it was customary to help one's allies in times of war, but at what cost. This fell onto Y/n’s mother’s family. If they had kept to themselves and learned that greed never got men far, then they would think twice about joining some war. They would think twice before dragging their whole family in it.

“I love it when someone insults me,” she muttered to herself. “That means that I don’t have to be nice anymore. Even if it is family”

Turning on her heel, she looked her brother dead in the eyes. I’m well aware that you have no choice,” she seethed in a language that the men around her could understand. “I’m also well aware that you have the choice to take a different stance on this. Because if you are doing this because that tyrant of a man thinks it’s right than you are not my brother! None of you are!”

Her brother was taken back, opening his mouth to say something but he didn’t know what could match her words. She was right. There were other options that still pleased their allies. But those options often went overlooked. And he had expected her to help, that’s what she always did. Her father raised her to be his right hand. To be able to take care of herself and lead armies.

“And, yes, I am a bitch, but not yours. So, don’t you ever come here and expect anything of me. Don’t expect my help, my respect, or my loyalty. I may have been born a Y/l/n name but I am no longer one. Not here, anyway. Not in the North. Not in Winterfell.” With that she swiftly left the courtyard, moving passed Eddard and Jon.

With the door shut behind her, Robb looked towards his brother-in-law who could do nothing but shake his head. Robb wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew that he had just seen part of his wife that she never intended him to see.

For Y/n’s brother, he knew that she would change her mind. She always did. When their grandfather came calling for help, the family was forced to do whatever the man pleased as he always told them that they owed him everything. Y/n would remember that and she would come to the family’s aid. She was right in the fact that there was more than one option on the table and that all should be considered. Y/b/n turned from the Stark men and walked out of the courtyard.

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow imagines #jon snow x reader #sansa stark #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark imagines #sansa stark x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #GoT imagine #GoT imagines #GoT

[candyclan]

Coming out letter to my mom. (FTM) At the start of my transition, I wanted to go by a name that started with an “A”because my birthname did. All the rest of it is basically the same.

THE TRUTH:

I didn’t scream “I am a boy” at my parents. Honestly, my mother (specifically) controlled a lot of what I did, who I hung out with, and what I wore as a child. I believe she has/had an idea about what she wanted out of a daughter since I was born, and really just lived through me. I think she eventually had to give me room to make my own decisions, later in life. I didn’t come out until I was 16, although I had spent 6 months prior to even coming out thinking about my gender identity. I was extremely sheltered. I want you guys to know that I didn’t know what being transgender was until I was a freshman in high school and met my best friend (who is STILL MY BEST FRIEND TODAY) who identified as Non-binary gender fluid. I had never really met someone AFAB that lived to be anything other than female. With that came the knowledge that sometimes, men don’t necessarily have to have penises and I can wear whatever I’m comfortable with. I used to be religious in middle school (raised Christian) but I never found god. It never made sense to me how so many people can put their faith in other people’s ideas of what god is (the Bible) but not listen when their real CHILD comes to them and tells them that they feel uncomfortable in their gender identity. I also came out as bisexual in middle school, after meeting a girl I had a fancy for. To which my mother sobbed and cried and asked how she had failed as a parent. I remember loving pink, it was my favorite color. Pink, purple, blue. My top 3. Now it’s blue, pink, purple but basically the same. I had a pink room, loved hello kitty, let my mom curl my hair with little curlers at night so I could wake up and be somebody different the next day. My brother played with carebears and my Barbie dolls more than I did as a child. I remember a toy gun and handcuffs. I was fairly experimental as a child, I did: Girl Scouts, swimming, piano, soccer, ballet, cheerleading, and more honestly. I always got “boy” toys at McDonald’s (I mean cmon they’re cooler) I just was kinda everywhere. I feel like that’s easier for someone AFAB to be. My brother was harassed by my family for liking girly things but I was never shown that I couldn’t like stereotypical “boy things” by extended family. My mother however in the line at McDonalds I could never forget, turned and looked at me (baseball cap backwards tank top and shorts)and said “So, what?” “Are you batting for the other team” implying that because of the clothes I liked to wear I would be a lesbian. My mother (like I said, kinda controlling and extremely narcissistic) when I was allowed to cut my hair super short for the first time I was 16. Afterwards she has said things like: “but you’re so pretty how could you have cut your hair” “you looked so nice with long hair” I never felt akin to femininity. I was actually VERY uncomfortable with it. I hated being the “weaker” gender. I never wanted my nails painted. It was torture. I acted like makeup and and nail polish was torture, the hairbrush was my enemy. I used to just put my hair up in a low ponytail every day as I got older. I knew she’d never let me cut it all off. Basically, other than wanting to grow up strong and tough and not liking to be treated like a female, I was female. There were parts of being female I didn’t really have a problem with, and honestly that’s why I didn’t come out for so long. I wasn’t in a house or raised by people I knew would accept anything other than me being their “little girl” I was a daddies girl. So between my lack of understanding of where my feelings towards my gender roles were coming from, being encouraged by my family to be girly, not being exposed to gender diversity (or anything queer), and my controlling mother, I remained in the dark about who I was.

TRIGGER WARNING:::(abuse)::::: I was never close with my mother, and actually hated her growing up. To this day she is the most judge mental, self-centered woman I know. My father was funny, charismatic, and lost his shit sometimes. I like to say, 90% of the time he was amazing. We made jokes and could literally finish each other’s sentences. But honestly my father, 10% of the time was abusive. Most of my abuse in my life was covert (narcissistic abuse from my mother) and verbal/emotional/barely physical abuse from my father. He’s 6”3’ 350 lbs and very loud and scary, especially to a young child. He punched a hole in my wall, he threw a remote at a wall and shattered it to pieces, he threatened to kill my dog with a baseball bat in front of me. Which I swear to god he would have done if I wasn’t holding my dog, protecting him. These moments were few and far between, but they were riddled with insults and almost always left me with less than I started with. My father did spank my brother and I, and one time he clapped my brother so well that he left a purple hand mark on his butt. My mother told my father she’d take us away if that happened again. My father never left marks. He never had to, he was so big and would just get up in my face and scream at me. He made me feel helpless. Because he was invading my space I felt physically threatened, and he never actually had to touch me and leave bruises because that threat was already implied by invading my space. I was so young, but I always knew my family wasn’t right. Finally at 16, I stood up to my father for the first time. I didn’t care if he was bigger than me, I didn’t care if I would lose, I was willing to fight for me. Anyway, long story short the police were called because we were screaming at each other in front of his apartment building. I’m not going to say I didn’t fuck up as a teenager, but I never deserved the pressure and the abuse he was dishing out and had dished out my whole life. I knew that. I cut him out of my life just after turning 16, by then I had been questioning my identity. It became easier after leaving my father to fall into who I was. My father is FAIRLY religious and my mother claims to be but she never talks about god, she never prays, and now that my father and her are divorced I don’t think she’s been inside a church since. Losing my father was a lot, despite his abuse he and I were really close and had really similar personalities. The reality of abuse isn’t “well, now I see them as an abuser so now none of that good stuff is left it’s all tainted” I had to struggle with losing someone very important in my life at a young age, for myself.

Arguments against me being trans:

My family has been a bit divided in responding to me coming out. By now, it’s been about 4 years.

My mother and her side of the family are in denial. They don’t understand how I can’t be a “lesbian that just likes boy things”. They don’t use my name or pronouns.

My father, what little communication I have with him now, is bewildered. He and I had a discussion this past Christmas where I brought up what his abuse did to me mentally and he apologized but then tried to say “well what about your part in all of this” and said that I was hanging out with crazy depressed people, cutting myself, doing drugs, (I was smoking weed and I’ve tried acid like once piss off) and was sneaking out. Yeah. I did do all of that BUT GUESS WHAT. IM 20. I go where I wanna go. I fuck who I wanna fuck. I smoke what I want and guess what? It’s not any different from when I was 16 except now I don’t have parents up my ass telling me what to do. His argument basically was that I need to own up to what I did too and that fucking angered me. You don’t apologize and then go “well what about you” that’s not an apology. That’s deflection and honestly I don’t think I need to apologize because my parents were super controlling. I was just trying to do what I wanted and they didn’t like it. He and I have talked about me being trans and he pretty much thinks I’m certifiable. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

My brother: Ethan, my brother and I have always been close. He’s 17 now, and he had a different reaction to me being trans. Of all of my family he was the most receptive to my pleas of gender dysphoria and he suffers with anxiety so he gets stuff. But alas, after asking him if he’d call me by my name and pronouns (after 4 years of being out) he thinks that I am the one that has an issue with society. I told him I was starting T soon and he said: “Hrt won’t lessen all the things that come with being transgender. If you feel like doing hormones is the best for you then do it, but from a logical standpoint I think there just needs to be more thickening of skin” he claimes that if I try hard enough I could be fine living as female. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

None of my family supports me. None of my family understands. And none of them ever will. I have been out for four fucking years. I can’t tell you how frustrating family rejection can be. I have cried so much at the idea of not having a supportive family. I feel like I was ripped away from a beautiful life somewhere and thrust into this mess.

Honestly though, it doesn’t matter, the world keeps spinning and I keep finding people who love and accept me for who I truly am. I have made peace with my family’s lack of acceptance. It’s made me stronger and more compassionate towards others. Made me want to be better than them. I am actually going to start hormones soon, and on top of other fears I have, will be cutting my family out of my life. I can’t be 25 with a full beard and getting misgendered by my family. I can’t do it. They may feel like I’m going too far, that I don’t have to do this, but I do. I’m not doing this because I didn’t get too much attention as a kid or my mom favored my brother over me, I’m not doing this because it’s cool, I’m not doing this because I’m bored, I’m not doing this because I hate myself or anyone else. This is AFFIRMATION. Sometimes, cutting people who can’t see you for who your really are out of your life is affirming too.

Guys, girls, people, keep your head up. Things get better, I know. I thought life was never going to get better so I know that’s what it can feel like. But it does. Never ever let someone control your life or who you are. You’re beautiful/handsome/amazing! You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin and to love who you are. I am getting there, we all are.

Love,

Tanner M.

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 10

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Belonging Nowhere”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3,815

Warnings: ???

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Eva’s departure is felt throughout the whole of Asgard. When the God of Thunder discovers her absence, Heimdall shows how willing he is to live up to the promise he made. Aaldir offers fatherly advice to the worried Prince.

A/N: This chapter, as you may notice, is shorter than the previous one. I’m sorry for my short hiatus. With work, college, and life all happening at the same time, I’m losing track of the time. To those of you who waited patiently, reaching out to check on me, YOU are what makes the hard days seem easier. Once again, you’re all so amazing for even reading this in the first place. I love all of you so, so, so much <3 -Ellie

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

*Thor’s POV*

I wasted no time racing to the Bifrost at the end of the Rainbow Bridge to confront Heimdall. As soon as I read the note that Aaldir gave to me, I went into a rage. Eva was one of the most brilliant women I had ever met, and I didn’t understand how she could have been so ignorant to believe that she could be needed anywhere other than right here. She was continuing her reckless behavior that I thought we had gotten past after New York. As soon as I entered the Bifrost, Heimdall turned to face me, “you noticed her absence, just as everyone else did,” he noted, reminding me that she was just as much a part of Asgard as the air we all breathed. Her absence left a hole in the hearts of every Asgardian, young and old.

“Why did she leave?” I asked, my voice deep and urgent, “why did you send her to Midgard without telling me?” I asked, feeling like I was being spread too thin. Between ongoing problems with my father, my conflict over Loki, the newest prisoner, and the looming threat of Cul and his armies, I was at my wits end. I needed some explanation as to why my most trusted friend and advisor ran off to Midgard.

Heimdall gazed back out at the universe, calm as ever. His face had always been hard as stone. It was impossible for me to see any change in emotion, though Eva always claimed she could sense what he was feeling. I never believed her, thinking it was her way of gloating or bragging. Still, I couldn’t read him in that moment or any moment that had come before, “I am not at liberty to say,” he answered nonchalantly. His voice always captivated Eva, and I loved watching her as she listened to him speak. He continued before my mind could carry me away with thoughts of her, “she told me to keep the reason as to her sudden departure a secret between the two of us, and I intend to keep it that way,” he added, loyal as ever to her.

“Send me down there at once,” I demanded, tired of the games she always played. While I was sure this was no such thing, it was frustrating that she disappeared at random without giving us any answers at all. I didn’t intend to keep tabs on her at all times, but with what happened between her and Ezra, I was afraid that she was going to go back down a destructive path. She had encountered a threat that was much greater than we were prepared for, Loki’s fate was still hanging in the balance, and she was lost in all of it. She was hanging on by a thread, and I was afraid that she would reach her breaking point soon enough. Feeling as if my demand had fallen on deaf ears, I repeated myself, “send me down to Midgard at once!” I ordered, straightening my shoulders.

Heimdall shook his head, “no,” he answered simply.

My eyes widened as he disobeyed my blatant order, but I knew that even if my father had ordered him to do so, if he made a promise to Eva, he would keep it. I growled, “I demand it!”

He glanced over at me, amber eyes boring into my own, and I could finally see what Eva always claimed she could see. He was loyal to those he cared for, and no matter how close we were, he understood Eva better than anyone else, and she understood him with the same intensity and clarity. While Eva belonged here, she had always been on the outside, just like Heimdall. They were both wanderers, warriors, and keepers of the stars. I saw his love for her in that moment, “that’s unfortunate because I will not grant you passage to Midgard,” he stated before gazing back out at the fast universe, “I promised Lady Eva that I would not allow you to follow her. I gave her my word that she would not be trailed unless her life was in grave danger, and I would never dream of going back on my word to her,” he explained, grasping the handle of his sword tightly.

“I am the Prince of Asgard!” I reminded him, my voice nearly causing the entire Bifrost to shake.

His head snapped around, and our eyes met once more, “and she is the Princess!” he boomed, my voice having paled in comparison to his. The anger melted away from his features just as quickly as it had shown itself, but he could not take the words back, no matter how hard he tried. Of course, Eva wasn’t of the royal family, so she wasn’t a princess by blood, nor was she by marriage, since she had never married Loki or I. In the eyes of the Asgardian people, though, Eva was a princess, and they loved her like a queen. She was the lifeblood of our world, and the people saw that as time passed. Perhaps Heimdall wasn’t above those emotions. He sighed, “I gave her my word, and I will not break it. You often forget that she is far stronger and far more capable than anyone has ever given her credit for. She has fought off entire armies on her own. Lady Eva has always been full of surprises, and this is no different,” he reminded me of the countless times I watched the beautiful warrior on the battlefield. She fought as if she was dancing, every movement fluid and flowing right into the next.

I huffed, “if anything changes, alert me at once,” I demanded, hating the fact that I had to leave her safety in the hands of anyone else. The last time I trusted someone with her life, I almost lost her. While she wasn’t mine, nor would she ever be, she was still my very best friend and most trusted confidante. I wouldn’t know what to do with my life if I didn’t have her.

“That goes double for me,” that familiar voice sounded from behind me. As I turned around, I saw the God of Mercy standing directly behind me. I wasn’t sure how much of my argument with Heimdall he had heard, but it caused a certain level of shame within me to think that I was doubting her abilities even more than her own father, a man who-after all he had lost-would have been more protective of her now more than ever before. His eyes were warm and welcoming as they had always been, but there was a sorrow within them that had never gone away since Loki’s turn, since his fall, since her. With the recent loss of Hjalmar and with Eva leaving Asgard, he looked more put together than I had expected. Still, his dark hair was disheveled just enough to give me the answers to the questions I wouldn’t dare ask him, no matter how merciful I knew he would be.

He motioned for me to join in, to walk back across the bridge with him. A look of peace and serenity fell across his features, much like what happened with Eva when she knew I needed her to be strong for me. I would never ask for her, but she could always feel it. There were countless times when she would show up out of the blue just to talk or sit with me because she could feel my troubled mind. She didn’t limit this behavior to just members of the royal family or those she was closest to, either. Eva would often roam the streets of Asgard, even as a young girl, and listen for the cries of a child, the broken heart of a father who lost his son in battle, the widowed mother who was raising her children alone, the sounds of silence where she knew she was needed, and without accepting any payment in return, she would sit with each of them. Any man, woman, or child was under her care, and they loved her all the more for her acts of selflessness.

I wasn’t certain if she was born with that heart, or if she inherited pieces of it from the man beside me. As Aaldir and I walked along the Rainbow Bridge, I had one of the most selfish fleeting thoughts in my life. I wished she would leave others to their own devices. It wasn’t a wish that would benefit her, as I was well aware that the times she was helpless to lift people up when they fell, a piece of her died. It was a wish made purely out of my selfish desire to protect her, to shelter her. A part of me couldn’t see her as the warrior she was, as the strong leader I knew she could be. I would always see her as this fragile little girl that the world wanted to break, but she was strong from the beginning, far stronger than I could ever even hope to be.

“I know that feeling,” Aaldir noted, cutting off my train of thought.

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced over at him, curious as to what he was talking about, “what do you mean?” I asked as our eyes met. Eva and him looked so different, which was to be expected since they were not related by blood. However, they looked so similar at the same time, skin that was kissed by the sun, innocent and pained eyes under full brows, the most perfect facial structure I had ever seen, as if they had been crafted by angels. Eva always said that it was because they shared the same life energy, that all things were connected, but she had the strongest connection to him because he chose her, raised her, taught her, and loved her.

He smirked, “you would rather her be miserable and safe with you than fulfilled and in potential danger. I know that feeling all too well,” he stated, taking me by surprise. He had always praised and admired her independence, so I didn’t think he could possibly understand my dilemma. He chuckled, “I taught her how to fight, and she soon became so powerful that there was nothing left for me to teach her. I didn’t teach her how to fight with the hope that she would seek war and blood but with the hope that she would fight for what she believed in, what she loved, and she has done that. I taught her how to love by loving her unconditionally, and she soon loved everything around her with that unconditional love but only one person even more than that-your brother. I didn’t teach her how to love with the hope that she would have her heart broken but with the hope that she wouldn’t be afraid to love, even if it meant having her heart broken,” he explained, his voice softening as his eyes glossed over with tears that I had never seen him allow to fall.

“I taught her everything I knew about life, love, war, death, pain, and suffering. It wasn’t with the hope that she would run off and put her life at risk, but it was with the hope that if she chose to do that, she was as prepared as possible,” he explained, blinking away the tears that always rose to his eyes when he talked about Eva. She was the light of his life, his pride and joy, his everything. He cleared his throat, “so, trust me when I tell you that I know how it feels to want to shelter her. I’m her father; I know all about that. However, the one thing that makes it easier is that I know there will come a day when I can’t be beside her, when I die a warrior’s death, and from that moment on, she will need to be her own guiding light, her own protector, her own hero. And if my time with her is limited to this lifetime, I want to see her smile as often as possible because that’s what gives my life meaning, to see that my children are happy,” he explained, silence finally falling between us again.

After thinking on his words for a moment, I spoke, “but how can you be so comfortable when she leaves for Midgard without saying a word about it to anyone? How can you be so calm when she could be in danger, when there is a possibility that she may not come home?” I asked, my mind racing with thoughts of her possible demise. Ever since the battle with Ezra, she had been acting strange, almost as if she was trying to hide something from me. I didn’t know what it was or why she was acting so distant, and I just wanted answers. I glanced over at Aaldir again, “how can you be so comfortable when she’s putting her life at risk?”

“Because it’s not my place to make decisions in her life. She’s my daughter, yes, but she’s her own young woman. I make my own decisions that impact my life, so what gives me the right to make her decisions for her?” he asked, challenging my train of thought, “the only time I’ve seen her happier than when she was with your brother was when she felt she had done right by herself. She needed to be on Midgard to do what she felt was right. She followed her heart, and it led her there. Who are we to discourage that?”

I shook my head, “people who care about her safety and security,” I answered, not understanding how he could be so blind to her self-destructive behavior, “I know that you raised warriors, and I owe all my skills to you as well. I just feel like Eva is throwing that all away to chase a fantasy. She has always put the lives of others before her own. If she can subdue an opponent instead of killing them, she does. If she can talk someone down instead of hurting them, she takes that route. It has been a dangerous path for her to tread. The greatest warriors live to fight another day, and she seems like she’s on a mission to get herself killed,” I rambled, feeling out of breath.

Aaldir let the silence fall between us as he thought of what to say in response to my argument. To question Eva and her decisions was a dangerous game to play, especially when I was talking to her father, the man who trusted her judgement more than he trusted anyone else, “the greatest warriors are ones who fight for others without need for recognition. They give up their comfort and peace to ensure it in the lives of others. They don’t need parades or words of praise or even love and admiration from the people they’re protecting. They are not loyal to a person or to a throne, but they are loyal to their moral code...to life. They’re the warriors who would forfeit their lives for the ones they fight for and the ones they fight beside. My son was one of those warriors, and my daughter is the greatest warrior I know,” he explained, wanting to make me understand just how honorable a warrior she was, “she jumped in front of a sword for you and-”

I cut him off, “and nearly got herself killed in the process!” I reminded him.

“It was to protect you!” he exclaimed, his voice growing louder as he saw that I was growing more and more frustrated at the situation we found ourselves in.

I was powerless to do anything to bring her back home, and I felt like I was being left out of her decisions. It hadn’t been like she included me much in the decision-making process in the first place, but to be completely oblivious to what was going on upset me, “she’s acting erratically and defiantly, and her trip to Midgard proves that,” I stated, my anger continuing to well up within me.

He smiled to himself, his eyes telling a story of a time long ago, a time I was a stranger to, “her trip to Midgard proves only one thing, and that’s the simple fact that she is willing to do anything and everything to protect the people she loves most. Tony Stark is among those people whether you like it or not. And you know what's at stake for her on Midgard,” he reminded me as we finally reached the palace. I knew exactly what he was talking about, as I had met her on many occasions. I knew that Eva’s soul was torn between here and Midgard, and I always felt my heart aching for her. She wanted to be close to those she loved here but also those she loved on Midgard. At the mere mention of her, I became quiet once more, my anger and frustration around the situation falling away.

In my silence, Aaldir continued, “Eva has always been a free spirit, flowing like the waves and going wherever the summer breeze took her,” he reminisced, thinking of the girl who turned him into something more than just a warrior. Where he had once been one of Asgard’s greatest warriors, nothing more and nothing less, he was a loving father before anything else. She taught him just as much as he taught her, and I saw it in him every day. He changed little by little every moment he spent with her, “nothing and no one could tie her down, and that’s what Loki loved most about her. As a child, he learned to be calculating in order to protect himself from the heartache and rejection he felt every single day. Eva showed him that his life didn’t have to be like that. She was his taste of freedom, and the time he spent with her was time away from the rules and discipline. She was his guiding light in the darkness, the brightest star in his sky. He loved her wild beauty. She set him free,” he explained as we reached the doors to my mother’s chambers, “I think you have something to give her,” he reminded me, gesturing to the door before taking his leave.

I stood outside the door, watching him walk away, a man who placed every ounce of faith in Eva, and I could only hope for his sake that she would make it home safely. Once he had turned the corner and disappeared from my sight, I turned back to the tall door, which opened before I even had the opportunity to knock. My mother stepped to the side, gesturing for me to enter the room. As I stepped around her, I sensed her muscles tighten, “what’s wrong?” she asked, concern washing over her features as she closed the door.

I sighed, “Eva left,” I stated, trying to ease her into the news. I didn’t want to spring it all on her at once, so I wanted to break it up into smaller pieces for her to digest easier.

She nodded her head, “she left for Midgard. I sensed it,” she replied, knowing that her prediction was true. Just as Eva shared an awe inspiring connection with my brother, she shared a similar one with my mother, though it couldn’t possibly be as strong as the one she shared with Loki. My silence allowed her the time to continue, “you’re upset by this. Why?”

“She doesn’t belong there,” I answered, “she belongs in Asgard, fighting the battles we are fighting instead of running off to Midgard every chance she gets!”

“And what battles are we fighting at the moment?” she asked, challenging me, “yes, Ezra came here and brought threats, but we are prepared for his forces. You speak as if Eva visits Midgard every day, but she hasn’t been back there since…” her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes. It hadn’t been the day she left for Loki, but the time Eva went back the day after we arrived in Midgard with my brother. We all knew that when Eva came home from the battle in New York, she was different, and when she left the following day, we weren’t sure if she would come back at all. She did, but she was never the same. There was always an emptiness in her eyes where there was once happiness. Even after Loki fell, she still maintained some level of joy for the sake of those around her. After that day, though, she had truly lost everything.

I frowned at the thought of what must’ve triggered Eva to go back. She had sworn that no force could demand her presence other than her safety. All I could think of was that she was hurt, which made me want to follow Eva to Midgard even more. I sighed, “I’m just worried. What if something terrible is happening, and I can’t help?” I asked, thinking of all the possibilities and driving myself mad in the process.

Her warm hand rested against the side of my face, cupping my cheek, “sometimes all you can do in situations like this is have faith. Believe in Eva like you always have. You were never blind to her strength when you were younger, so don’t doubt her now. It’s important to feel fear, but you cannot let it dictate the choices you make. Eva learned that long ago, long before she should have. For your own peace of mind, try not to think about her. Feel her presence in your heart, but do not let the thoughts of her safety cloud your mind,” she suggested, knowing that the task she gave me would be difficult.

I nodded my head, trusting her to point me in the right direction. While I would never have my mother’s calm demeanor-a tranquility in even the most dire situations-I possessed a piece of that. I believed it was a mother’s gift, one I could never master fully. Eva was best at it, even in combat. In the silence between us, I remembered my true reason for visiting my mother. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note intended for Loki, knowing that my mother had always gone against the wishes of my father to visit him in the dungeons. She would find a way to get the note to him, especially if it was one from Eva, “she wrote one for Loki and I before she left. This one is his,” I explained, handing it over to her. She nodded her head, knowing what I was asking her to do without saying it, “and...tell him I love him, too.”

#loki #loki imagine #loki imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #rogue one imagine #tom hiddleston #marvel mcu #mcu imagine #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #ofc #original female character #oc #original character #angst #love #thor ragnarok #madness fic #thor odinson #thor #fanfic #fic #long fic #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #madness

[tumblunni]

Misc thoughts of rambling development for my new yokai watch ocs family of hugs and sadness (blythe the Dimmy and amber the Gorgeous Ambassador)

* Amber was totally still Gorgeous Ambassador at heart even back when he was human. I feel like he probably dressed very plain and was very self concious for a long time, as well as also being poor as dirt so it wasnt really easy to be super fashion time. Perhaps the only way he was really able to be remotely flambouyant or pretty was just having a long ponytail that he was very proud of. It would have been easier to maintain a shorter hairstyle when you're struggling to even find somethibg to eat each day let alone a bath, but it just helped him hold on to a tiny bit of confidence. Even when he reincarnated as Gorgeous Ambassador he was still unconfident for a long time and it took all these centuries to fully embrace The Power Of Gorgeous. He was probably really shocked when he got his medal registered and heard his new yokai name, like uhh excuse me "must beautiful man who spreads beauty through the world with his smile" are you sure there hasnt been a mixup??? And nowadays he's become so happy with himself that he maybe dresses a little bit gaudy sometimes, but if you saw how he used to feel then you'd absolutely be cheering for him!

* he was probably worried that Blythe wouldn't recognise him when he finally managed to reunite with them, but i think the lil shadow ghost instantly knew it was their brother and ran straight into the biggest hug ever. "Im worried they'll think im all cringe and gaudy" NO UR LIL SIB IS IN AWE OF YOUR FASHION POWER AND HAPPY FOR YOUR CONFIDENCE

* I also think Amber would absolutely be proud of how much confidence Blythe has gained through travelling with the protagonist and co. Like "aaa the last time i saw you you were so tiny and shy!" "Yes, now i'm tall and shy!" "NUUUU STOP PUTTING YOURSELF DOWN"

* basically they are absolutely Shyness Fam, and Amber just approaches his anxieties differently with over-the-top fake boasting about his greatness instead of being honest about how bad he feels. So thats why itd be so heartwarming to see him genuinely making progress and genuinely seeing good parts of himself. ALL THANKS TO THE INTERNATIONAL GORGEOUSNESS ASSOCIATION OF THE AFTERLIFE, YES *cheesy makeover ads fly by in the background*

* Dimmy's fave food is rice balls not just cos ninja monster = rice balls, but cos for Blythe specifically it brings back happy memories of backstory ninja Amber in ye olden days packing lunches of love for his tiny friend. He was always broke in between finding bountys to hunt, so he was never able to cook anything too fancy, but those simple meals became associated with childhood in Blythe's heart. All the times this big strong human swordsman would have a moment of gentleness and offer his last bit of food to a useless little yokai like them. ("No!! You're a valued part of the team!! And growing children need this more than i do!! Besides, i'm so tough i don't need to eat." *stands up for a minute and blacks out*)

* Since this backstory took place before thee yokai watch was invented, you cant technically say Amber was Blythe's previous watchholder but like.. He totally was? Same formula of being a human you partner with and then go around fighting/befriending other yokai. I like to think that maybe before yokai medals became the latest trend and they set up the whole official regulated medal registration process, yokai would still give their human friends some sort of token of their friendship but it was just less organised. Like imbuing their soul energy into all sorts of shit like This Leaf I Found or One Shoe. Which could be used in the same way to summon them but obv was less conveinient, haha! I'm thinking maybe Blythe's bond object was just a neat rock, cos they were so young and didnt really own anything else to gift to this human. Like all they had was the coal from the hearth in the house they used to haunt, but thatd be too crumbly so they dug through to find the sturdiest and prettiest rock and Amber was like straigjt up crying from how touched this whole thing made him. I WILL TREASURE THIS PEBBLE MY TINY MONSTER CHILD...

* oh but just to rub salt in the wound i think he couldnt find it again when he woke up floating over his own burned corpse in the wreckage of his final fateful battle. There uhh..wasnt much of himself left, let alone anything he was holding. Itd kinda have to be that way cos if it worked like a yokai medal itd mean Amber could have instantly reunited with his friend and cut out all of these years of sad backstory, alas

* ok but imagine the cute and sweet emotionalness of then being able to swap medals when they see each other again, and have an actual magical guarantee of never losing their family ever again.

* I feel like Amber only initially agreed to join the Gorgeous Association because he wanted to get a job in the yokai world and save up to buy a decent house and decent level of income so that there would be a hapoy home waiting for his child whenever he finally found them. He didnt really believe that he had the potential to be a fashion icon, he just went along with it as an employment opportunity in his weird new ghost life. But OH NO, accidental self confidence!! (We are all very proud of him)

* oh and the Gorgeous Association doesnt work 100% identical to the anime version, i just like the anime's general concept. I feel like Gorgeous Ambassador is indeed a yokai species and not just a title, its less 'you were chosen by random lottery' and more 'you were chosen by destiny'...? Shy people who have potential to be fashion icons just tend to end up becoming the shy-people-with-potential-to-become-fashion-icons yokai, aka this. And the Gorgeous Association takes responsibility for finding all new Gorgeouses and training them to use their new powers instead of just staying in their shyness. Its more of a self help club? Oh and also the membership is full of other types of fashion yokai too, its not just Gorgeous Ambassadors. Just its only Gorgeous Ambassadors that get visited by the president as soon as they die and given a special invitation to join. So basically interpreting Gorgeous Ambassador as more 'this yokai is named that cos its powers are about encouraging people to be more confident aka introducing them to the world of fashion'. And less the idea that all Gorgeous Ambassadors used to be a different type of yokai and you can only become one by being picked by the club lottery. And also that its just a costume with no actual powers?? That was funny in the anime but i prefer if they actually could inspirit people and make them more confident and stuff.

* I FEEL LIKE IM EXPLAINING THIS BADLY, SORRY! Ok so uhh like yknow some clubs are all exclusive entry "you are not this thing til you join"? Like you cant be a country club member til you join the country club, and the sense of comeraderie there is just all being rich enough to pay for membership rather than having anything in common. But then there's stuff like lgbt groups or mental health support groups where youre all already the same thing and thats WHY you join the club. Anime version had Gorgeous Association be a country club and Gorgeous Ambassador be just a membership name rather than a real yokai form. Which, again, was really funny but i feel like it only works in a more gag focused series like the anime. Here i'm interpreting it that you can just be born in the species Gorgeous Ambassador, same as any other yokai like jibanyan or whatever, and it actually does have its own special powers and stuff. And its just that the Gorgeous Association sends out invites to any newborn yokai that have fashion related powers. So not all Gorgeous Ambassadors actually join the Gorgeous Association. Oh and Kageusuo is the actual yokai species name for those unaffiliated ones. The anime seemed to say that kageusuo was an unrelated new yokai that isnt in the games, that was just invented to have a form that Gorgeous Ambassador had before he became Gorgeous Ambassador. But i have Other Ideas

* i'll make it a new bullet point cos im getting all disorganized now aaaa

* ok so Kageusuo (or my fanmade eng dub name Shamshade) is Gorgeous Ambassador. Same thing. Same species. Kageusuo is a yokai personifying the idea of a fashionable beautiful person who never reached their potential in life due to social anxiety/bullying. Like an 'ugly duckling' story. Their default form is this shadowy looking depressed dude because their power is that they drain shadows from people, vampire style. This makes you 'less overshadowed", so you become more confident and people notice your unique style! But kageusuo cant use its powers on itself, so a lot of them stay in this shy form forever and just continue repeating the same overshadowed life they have as a human. The fabulous form that Gorgeous Ambassador has in the games is just simply the same yokai dressing differently- a kageusuo that managed to conquer its anxieties from its past life and take steps to embrace its true self! But theyre not actually any different in terms of powers, theyre still shadow vampires and their power to make people fabulous is just them eating your shadow. It was something they could already do before they became fabulous themself, now theyre just confident enough to match their powers, yknow? And also unrelatedly there's a club called Gorgeous Association that this particular kageusuo joined, which personally helped him in his journey of self confidence so he goes by the nickname Gorgeous Ambassador to advertise it. (Which is even more nicknamed into Amber cos he thinks it sounds cute)

* WHY ARE MY HEADCANONS SO OVERCOMPLICATED AAAaa

* anyway just imagine a vampire movie but its a supermodel lurching out of the shadows groaning "I VANT TO SUCK YOUR ANXIETY" and then when he bites you you become more confident. This is a Good Concept so i will somehow find a way to use it, dammit!! *b movie music* "OH NO THE MONSTER GOT TERRY" *terry suddenly wearing applebottom jeans*

* also imagine all of that but also the dude is a weird samurai being all "wow the wonders of the future" about thos applebottom jeans

* why do all my headcanons start as angst and end up as nonsense like this

#bunni plays yokai watch

[whychesterbwhy-blog]

So why did Chester Quit?

Why Chester Why…that is the question I have asked every day for two months. 

Why Chester am I so connected to you that your death effects me at my core? We dont really know eachother…you arent in my life…

Chester Bennington was just the lead singer in a band.  And now I see how much he was like me. We were both born in the 70s, both cops kids, both from broken homes, both sexually abused, both addicts of one sort or another, both wrestling with depression and anxiety, both surrounded and yet alone. Me the good girl and he the bad ass, so different and yet so the same. Both looking for love by being the lover. Deeply feeling, insightful and afraid. Grown up yet never been aloud to be a kid. We laugh when we are hurting because we would hate to inconvenience you with our grief. We learn quickly that the world needs smiles more than frowns and if we can give it to you then maybe we can find some for ourselves too… 

I have spent late nights obsessing over Chesters Interviews and song lyrics.  It saddens me that Linkin Parks latest album sounds like a long goodbye.  Did anyone catch that as they wrote it? Anyone see it now besides me? 

Hurt often preceeds anger. All the other albums and songs screamed and vented, we identified because the anger we heard gave us something to do with the pain. Perhaps it gave Chester somewhere to put it too?  

Anger…we can deal with because it keeps us from the hurt, Anger is this beautiful wall that protects us from the true villain. And wow did Chester give us that…anger, he shocked us all by saying the things that we arent supposed to say…he helped us manage by giving us permission to scream from the depth of our souls. It felt good, it kept my heart safe on those bad hard days. It made my pain normal, in a way. 

The thing that any victim of depression knows all to well is that anger is not the enemy. Anger has no power, Its the hurt that brings us down, its the hurt that cant be repaired or cured or fixed. Hurt can only be numbed out or hidden or… felt.  It demands humility and brings us to our knees. In no uncertain terms it sucks, it drains and if not medicated it steals.

When I listen to OML it scares me that it was hurt that I felt.  I wonder what it must have felt like to have that vulnerability criticized by fans who called him a “sell-out”, how would it rock my soul to sing about depression every single night away from my family, while trying to hang on? Could I survive the death of a close friend and sing about sorrow everyday without numbing out? No, I think not. No….Noway, NO how! I couldnt do it! I know it,  AND I know it more now!

What we think about leads our actions. What we feel consumes us if not balanced with our thoughts. Chester did you get consumed with your songs?  Did the hurt over take your head? You had so much to live for…yet you longed to be dead?

Why Chester did you quit and let go? This has been your journey from the start. The suffering is not new. Depression is not a mood.  Were the fans too harsh, were you afraid you would begin to fail? Did you want to go out while you were on top?  Was it easier dying a legend? Why Chester Why?

#fuckdepression #linkin park #anxiety #depression #whychester

[rosekun25]

Fourteen Reasons why.

 April 9th, 2017

Dear Tumblr Diary, 

I’m watching “Thirteen Reasons Why.” 

I haven’t read the books since middle school. But my cousin from my Dad’s side of the family sent me the book I think a year ago.  Life always has a way of foreshadowing. I swear it does.

Anyway I’m reading the book too, putting off getting my food handler’s card because fuck that shit. 

Anyway Im watching this and its kind of triggering. I havent watched the part where she kills herself but I imagine I’ve seen worse. 

There’s a video I’ve seen Here’s a link.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_PdYb0EL-Y

Anyway so far that part has hit me the most. 

I mean, It has. After I got out of the hospital nobody asked me if I was okay. I had to lie. I lied about everything so I wouldnt get sent away longer than they needed me to be away. 

I lied and said It was because I missed my great grandma instead of telling them it was because my world had shattered and nobody could hurt me anymore. 

I lied about the pills. I took 96. Well thats now many were in the bottle. I told them I didnt know how many I’d taken. I just lied lied lied lied lied. I didnt tell anybody why I did it. 

aTLEAST Until they couldnt send me away anymore. 

So here are fourteen reasons why I wanted to kill myself 

14. I felt like I’d do it sooner or later. 

I mean it was really weird. I’ve had depression for most of my earlier childhood. I remember not thinking I’d make it to 20. But here I am. I remember wanting to get married and have children but I didn’t actually think I would live long enough to actually do it. I mean I didn’t think I’d finish High School. 

13. I wasn’t beautiful. 

At least I didn’t think I was. I thought pretty girls were 100 pounds, blonde and didn’t have to worry about anything except which husband they wanted.  I guess I was sort of insecure. But not in the sense that I thought I was ugly. Just in the sense that I wasnt  beautiful. 

12. I was starving myself.

Well I don’t really remember this part. I just remember I was really really hungry. The doctors there said I hadn’t eaten for a month. But Im not sure that’s accurate. I mean I must have eaten at some point. I remember I drank tea.  But anyway. I guess i was displaying “Anorexic tenancies” or whatever I was half asleep I didn’t listen.

11. I wanted to die. (duh)

But it wasn’t in the sense of me actually wanting to die.  I mean when you’re young you learn about the circle of life, you watch ‘Lion King.’ Mufasa dies and you learn you wont be around for ever. I guess I just ’ wanted to hurry up and do what I was supposed to. 

10. At the time, my life sucked dick. 

I remember it. I was horribly depressed and doing my best to hide it. I remember I wanted nothing more than to just be held like a baby and told everything was going to be alright. But it wasn’t. There was a point in my life where I kept everything to myself. Everything. Even stupid shit like “Where do you want to eat?” or “Are you hungry?”. I just felt like I had to. Keep everyone safe, dont let anybody know you’re suffering sort of thing. 

Anyway my life sucked dick, because I was always hungry never sleeping and I was overworked. I also was verbally abused at my job. To the point where I would want to cry whenever I walked in the store. But more on that some other time. 

I also hated T or  C. If Im going back there. Im going back in a body bag. 

My Home life also sucked dick. I remember not having hotwater in the bathroom. I remember being cold every night because they refused to pay more money to turn up the thermostat. If I wasnt cold. I was so Hot. There were ants everywhere. On my clothes. In the kitchen. EVERYWHERE. I wasnt allowed to leave my house either. I couldnt just get up and go I wasnt allowed to leave except for school and work. I couldnt leave and it drove me fucking mad.  I didnt have much food to eat, If there was food it was all gobbled up by my fat ass Grandfather who liked to steal my things. I still dont know what he did with most of it. The dryer didnt work either so I’d have to go to school in wet clothes that were freezing. I hated it. Oh and not to mention every morning I’d wake up to screaming. Always screaming. Nobody could ever say “Good Morning Rose, you’ve to wake up now.” No. They were too busy screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming, 

9. I was so tired of everything. 

I was. Really. I still kind of am. Im tired of having to work all the time and having no money. I was tired of waking up every day and going to a school. I feel like I would have liked school better if I didnt have to wake up early and put up with all of that bullshit. 

The bullshit I am tired of here has literally went from 95% to maybe about 15%  Professors are honest with me, My coworkers all do their jobs and I dont get in trouble if they don’t. Really Imagine, getting in trouble because one of your coworkers didnt do their job right. 

The only bullshit I have to deal with is making sure I have enough hours. Which if you ask me isnt a biggie, also I make enough to take care of myself. Which is a lot better than where I was before. 

8. I was going insane. 

Now I know what you’re thinking “Omg, yeah sure whatever Rose. Everybody on Facebook likes to pretend they’re crazy for attention, Change your picture to Joker and Harley just to add edginess. 

But no. It was stuff I dont want to dicuss with you. I had horrible dreams and I wanted to do some horrible things. In a way, I honestly thought if I killed myself I would save everyone.  I still dont remember what I wanted to save them from. 

7. I didnt have any friends. 

Now again I know what you’re thinking, “This bitch is tripping. She won Homecoming Duchess and Princess at the last dance!” (  Side Note: I also went on to win Prom Queen. But Everybody voted for me because I wasn’t allowed to run for homecoming queen because I tried to kill myself in the Bathroom.) 

I didnt have a Best friend. I didnt have somebody who hung out with me or came to my house specifically to play with me. I worked too much or somebody who ate lunch with me because they wanted to and not because I’d integrated into their little group because one of the members felt sorry for me and wanted to be my friend again. 

I knew a lot of people. But I was fiery, Passionate and emotional. People were afraid of that. Either that, or they didnt care enough to try and understand it. 

6. I was suffering from an unDiagnosed Mental illness 

It was Borderline Personality Disorder.  It was making me crazy. 

I still dont understand what it means. 

I know it means. 

But I dont understand it. 

5. I missed my Daddy. 

There. I said it. I FUCKING SAID IT. 

In my family, I was supposed to pretend he didnt exist. We all were. We didnt have Dads. We were just born. You know i didnt accept my Step Dad until My Dad stopped coming to see me. But what does that matter? I mean I wasNT  A BOY. HE DIDNT FUCKING WANT A GIRL. HE PROBABLY HAS 80 BILLION FUCKING DAUGHTERS! HE DOESNT NEED ANOTHER ONE!!!!!!!!!

But how am I going to forget the man who hated it when I cried? The man who bought me all of these presents because he knew he was never going to see me ever again. The man who bought me my first Barbie Car, my Hamtaro doll and my pretty Amethyst Birth Stone Barbie. All because he fucking knew he was never going to see me again. 

I havent seen him since I was two.  But I remember waking up in my hospital bed with Leslie telling him he had to talk to me because the doctors said they didnt know if I’d make it. I heard my auntie tell him in spanish and then he said “I dont talk to anyone who isnt blood.” and I wished I would have died again and again and again. 

4. I wasnt afraid to die. 

I mean honestly who is? Im Catholic now. I understand its the circle of life. Ive seen Lion King. But I honestly wasnt afraid to die. 

Here’s my philosphy on Religion and Death and everything 

If you’re a buddist and you die. You go do Buddist stuff. Buddist heaven, Buddist Hell. 

If you’re Jewish and you die. You go to Jewish Heaven because there isnt a hell. 

I know in church they tell you not to believe in other gods. But God mentions in the Holy Bible several times. So Meh. 

But I wasnt afraid to die. Im pretty sure my life had been clean and the only sins I really had were Hating my parents and Premarital sex. God wouldnt send me to hell for that. So I thought I’d go to heaven and party with Kurt Cobain

Because when a kid with Cancer dies, God doesnt send them to hell for dying of Cancer. So why would he send me to hell for succumbing to my depression? 

I mean atleast even if He was the God I think he is. 

3. By this point I was honestly sure nobody cared. 

The English teacher who carried me to the ambulance cared. I’m sure of that. 

But I mean nobody cared. I remember coming home to no food in the refrigerator and thinking “Oh well they’re making it easier for me now.” I remember nobody ever asking how I was.  I remember feeling numb I remember waking up that morning and deciding I was going to give life one last Chance. I’d missed the bus that morning and I had to call my  Grandmère to give me a ride to school because My Mother wouldnt teach me how to drive because she didnt want me to run off with my boyfriend and be happy. 

Because I guess bragging rights about your kids going to college are more important than your kids actually being happy. I’ll remember that when I have kids. If I live to have kids at least. 

Anyway I remember forgetting to take the pills out of my backpack. Im sure there’s an alternate universe somewhere where I did take them out of my backpack and I just went home early that day instead of killing myself in the bathroom. But hey what about the alternate universe where Hitler cured Cancer?

Nobody cared. Thats the point. Obviously if nobody noticed I was starving myself. If nobody noticed any of the signs that I displayed. 

But of course they all showed up to the hospital and cried crocodile tears. Then they yelled at me again as soon as I woke up. 

2. My life was over. 

“But you were accepted into NMSU! You were graduating Highschool! You had your whole life ahead of you!!!”

Did anybody ever think for just a second that I didnt want any of that? Honestly! Everybody was so proud. Nobody stopped and asked me if thats what I wanted to do. Because it sure as hell wasnt. I didnt want to go to college. Twelve fucking years of a system that made me kill myself in the Bathroom and you wanted me to do  eight more years?!  I wanted to get married and have babies. But I had to. You understand. I had to. I couldnt be like my sister. I couldnt stay in Highschool forever. I had to go to school because Men are useless now and I couldnt just get married out of highschool because as soon as they leave you’re going to need to take care of yourself! But I didnt want that. I wanted to get married. I wanted to have kids. 

1. Chance left.

Honestly this was it. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could see it coming though. Yeah, I made fake accounts to try and talk to him. Yeah I was a thirsty hoe (Symptom of BPD btw). Yeah I kind of texted him until right before I did it. I mean I was 18 of course I was obsessed. He cared. He would kiss me goodnight, He would try to get me to eat but I never would. I wanted to be pretty for him. I wanted him to love me. He did for a moment. You know love is like a drug, A drug that makes you happy every day of your life. Even if all you do is fight. Maybe its because I’d never loved anybody before him. Not even my Mother.  When I lost that happy bubbly warmth. I wanted it back. I was so desperate to get it back. I didnt notice. I didnt notice all the terrible things that happened. I looked over all of the mean words, and abusive flags. None of those mattered, as long as I got that feeling of being warm, loved, safe, and protected. Because it made me want to live. If I couldnt live. I wanted to die. I wanted to die and be with that feeling forever. 

Maybe things would have changed if I had realize what a fucking scum bag he was earlier. 

Am I still Suicidal? Yes.

You cant turn it on/off contrary to the belief of everyone around me. I’ve been suicidal since I was a little girl. But will I do it again? I cant promise I wont.  

 Fourteen Reasons why  I want to live. 

14. I’m happy now. 

I dont know if I could consider this as happy as I want to be, I mean Im still single. I have no children. But I’m happy. I dont have all the money in the world but I can go get Starbucks. I can go out and eat If I want to and that makes me so happy. It makes me so happy to have access to food. 

13. I love my apartment. 

I love my apartment. I love everything about it. I do. Except the rent payment lol. I love that I can literally do whatever I want in this little one bedroom place. I love it. I love keeping it clean, I love putting up whatever I want on the walls and I love love love it so much. Im so warm and happy and there is always food here. 

12. I love where I live. 

I love my town. Its big, its bright and i can get whatever I need to. I can go to walmart again whenever I want and I dont have to beg anybody to take me through the drive through or pay anybody to take me to the mall. I can go see movies and see the world. I love the world. I love the grass and the trees and the warmth of the sun. I can sit on my porch for hours, I can watch the rain, I can go outside. I CAN GO OUTSIDE!!!! 

11. I love being free. My freedom is my most precious possession, I don't want to die if I can be free. 

 10. I don't want to die until I find that person. My whole life I've been told There's a soul mate for everyone. When I think about suicide. I think about being dead, in a way, Death was freedom for me. But part of me doesn't want to leave that person alone. I can't. If He was made for me . Then he's like ME and if he is then I don't want to leave him alone. 

9. I have food. 

I know what you’re thinking “Whatever, I have a frozen Dinner in the fridge. Does that make me not suicidal?”

I have food to eat. Like I do. I dont have to scrounge around my house for a packet of Ramen or hiding a can of soup under my bed and praying it would be there when I woke up. I can wake up and eat whatever I want. I can make dinner and sometimes I just stare at all of the food in my refrigerator and smile. 

Side note, It’s now May 12th, school is over. Im trying really hard to finish this. It’s triggering. Like, Hannah Baker, Everything she does. I can see myself in her.  I could deal with the books. I could deal with the books because I had borrowed my friend’s book and typed the alternate ending and stuck it in my book. I visualized it in my own way. Now seeing it. It’s triggering. Did anybody notice? Did anybody try to? 

What about when I did it? Did anybody think? Did anybody try and look after me. I mean nobody noticed me stop eating so I doubt anybody noticed me writing wills in my psychology class, or me writing my suicide note over and over again. 

The final draft only had a few words by the way and nobody read it. 

They didnt even read the instructions I left for them incase I survived and had to go to the hospital which is why I had to wear the same clothes I wore when i did it. Which absolutely sucked. But i was glad I was getting out of the mental hospital, so there’s that. 

I still dont understand why shit like this cant happen in real life. I dont understand how people can make people suffer so much emotionally that they think suicide is the only answer.

This is really hard to write. I have to think of reasons I want to live instead of reasons I want to die. That’s hard. I want to die. Im so sick of this. But I dont want to die. I want to live.  

In a sense, I really feel like Hannah Baker. Because She wanted to live, she wanted life and happiness but she just dies at the end. I wonder if that will happen to me? 

I’ve had people ask me if Im sure I should even be watching a show like this. But I have to. I have to finish it. 

I read the book I know what happens. But I have to finish it for myself. 

8. Kingdom Hearts III will come out (Eventually) 

I have found joy in video games once again. I mean. Ive always loved video games. But I was playing South Park Stick of Truth again and I liked it. I liked it a lot and I wanted to... I wanted to play it so much. 

I’m sure they have video games in heaven but i wonder do they have midnight release parties? Do they have endings that arent perfect?  

Im sure they do. But being alive for them is different. 

Eventually though. Kingdom Hearts III will come out. Eventually.  Ill get to play it. Maybe Ill get to play it with my grandchildren and teach them about Sora, and Kairi, and Riku. 

7. I want to be a Mother. 

Thats all I’ve ever wanted in life. Really. I just want to hold my baby and raise her/him. I dont want them to have to come home and wonder if there’s food to eat, or if the house is going to be warm or when Mom is going to come home.

I want to have children and teach them and give them love and warmth and make them safe and give them everything I never had in life.  Like love, and chances. Chances to make something of themselves in a way I never could. 

6. I want to live to be an annual passholder at Disney 

I mean I’ve been to Disneyland Nineteen times and this summer it will be 20.  But I want to be able to wake up one day, have the day off from work and ask my kids if they want to go to Disneyland instead of school. I want to go there and have a great time and not have to worry about school or work or depression or anything.

5. I really want to do my bucket list. 

I mean there’s lots of cool stuff on it. But I’m sure they have most of that in heaven. But  I want to do it before I die. Like I want to visit Euro Disney in person and hang out in France. I want to walk up and realize I’m going to see the Little Mermaid on Broadway tonight. I want to be able to tell everybody about what I’ve done and inspire them to do the same thing.

(Update: It’s June now. I have to finish it. I had to stop. It was getting bad again. Really bad. I’m ready now. I really am.)

4. I want to get married.

Honestly thats been my life goal since I was a baby. That and being a ballerina but appertanly my dreams dont matter enough for us to stay in a place I could actually achieve them. I want to have a big fancy wedding which will probably dumb down to me getting married at the court house which I am totally fine with. As long as I am officially married and we honeymoon at Disney. 

Jesus Chirst I cant do this. I really cant. I fucking cant. . .  Why? WHY am I here? Why did I live? It’s fucking impossible did you know that? Am I still alive? Am I dead? I wont fucking know! I’m so much happier now! I really am. But I cant do this. I fucking cant. Why? Why am I alive? Why did I live? SO I could pay bills for the rest of my life? I hate being broke. I hate not having any money. I spent 20 dollars today to go out to lunch and that was a luxury. I couldnt afford that. Especially with all these bills. Why? Why is it so expensive to live in a 3rd world country with Iphones? Why? I dont have a car I have to ride the bus everywhere and spend a billion dollars on fucking everything. WHY? Why? I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate having to be mad at myself for going to the mall and spening 11 dollars. ELEVEN FUCKING DOLLARS! I bought a keychain today. I bought a keychain today and I wasnt supposed to do that!  I love my apartment, I love it, I wont leave it unless I’m in a body bag or leaving with my husband, But i dont understand WHY?! Why? Why do they want everything I have? Everybody just wants money. Everything is just money money money money, do I Have enough? WIll it last? Will I be able to do something with it? Why do you want all of my money? I can barley afford to live and everybody wants to make it fucking harder than it already is!!!!!!!!!! I cant do this. I really want to die. But i really want to live. I really want to live. But i cant live. 

3. I want friends. . .

I want best friends. I want the kind of friends where you all can just hang out together and do stupid shit. I want inside joke kind of friends, I want the sort of friends that make fun of you but you know they dont mean it. I want a specific place for us to hang out and laugh and live. 

2. I want to be infinite. 

I dont mean immortal. I mean I want to do things. I want freedom. People have freedom given to them while others have to fight for it. I want to take a roadtrip. I want to eat at gas stations with somebody and travel and see the world. I’ve always wanted to see the world but i’ve been locked up in this FUCKING TOWER for so long and now i’m afraid to get out of it. I am afraid to live because I’ve never been able to live before! Why are people born free when I could not leave my house to get the mail? 

1. I want to experience love. 

I have never loved anybody. For a moment, I thought I loved Chance. But I realized, you cant love somebody who has never loved you. So i didnt love my Mother, or My sisters and brothers or my grandparents. That wasnt love. It was forced affection. Because when you love somebody you make sure they’re in the car before driving away and asking if they are. If you love someone you dont kick them out of your car. If you love somebody you offer to take them home instead of letting them sit in 32 degrees watching their spit freeze, while you let your family treat them like shit just like you did. 

But I want to experience love. All kinds of love. I want to know why people like it so much and why the feeling is so euphoric. I want to be held and treated like I am a treasure. Like I am worth something. 

Is that love? I will find out one day. I want this. Even if its the only thing I will have. I want it. 

~

I’m on the second to last episode now, 

I wonder if the author wanted us to feel bad for people we’ve slut shamed.  I wonder if we’re supposed to think about it that way. 

I dont know about you but I hate fake people who pretend they’ve killed themselves.  I mean I know its a cry for help. But I wish they would go and talk to somebody instead of insisting they sliced their wrists 80 times and got sent to the ER even though their wrists are scarless and havent look liked they were cut ever. 

My therapist once sent me to the ER because I told her I was feeling suicidial. 

I thought that was utter bullshit. 

Because all I had learned to do was lie. 

Why are you suicidal honey? *Sniff* My greAT Gran died and I miss her so much and I wish I could talk to her and hug her. Oh baby it’s gonna be okay, Derek she’s not suicidal get her out of here. 

See? Then at my next therapy session I had to lie to her and tell her I wasnt suicidal. Which was another lie. 

Anybody who has ever asked me about my Great Grandma Elisa knows I hated going to her house and I didnt like her. I’ve never liked her. She was so mean to me. She really was. 

But i cant say I cried crocodile tears at her funeral. Or when They woke me up and told me she wasnt breathing and I knew she was dead, and I cried in my sleep. Something I didnt do, and didnt start doing until it was getting really bad again. 

Isnt that funny though? How i learned to just lie to everybody instead of telling the truth? 

~

I’m on the last episode now. 

I cant make you believe how many times I had to stop this and step away for a moment. 

It was honestly too realistic. 

Like just the things she said 

“I decided to give life one more chance.” 

I remember thinking the exact same thing. 

and watching it blow it. 

Thats always how my emotions have been. 

Hannah is stealing razors now.

I remember the day I bought the sleeping pills specifically to kill myself.

I didnt tell my Mom that. I told her I was having trouble sleeping which was true. 

I remember telling kids I thought I was taking too much.

I remember pouring handfuls into my own hand and just staring at them. I thought they were really pretty.  

I remember sleeping in class because I’d take too many on purpose. 

I remember hanging up on 911 

I remember calling my ex boyfriend. 

I wondered what would happen if he would have answered. I really do. 

Probably nothing, 

I still would have done it. 

I remember swallowing handful after handful. 

I remember being carried to the office and hearing your voice in my head. 

I remember dying and being at peace.

I remember waking up and screaming and crying.

Because honestly. Suicide doesnt hurt. No. aside from me not being able to eat for a couple weeks without throwing up, or choking up tablets everytime I tried to take a pill. 

What hurt was waiting. I waited for life to get better.��

It didn’t.  

Hannah baker is going to slit her wrists,

I’m mad. This isnt the way it happened in the books. She swallowed pills.

ItsnotrealRosemaryitsnotrealItsnotevenhowithappendinthebooks

This is triggering. 

I reserve the right to skip this part.

I cant breathe. 

Okay, Okay. 

I dont fucking get why people say this show glorifies suicide. We are literally watching a girl die. The worst part is this is how actual people have done it. Oh my god. Oh my god there’s so much blood. 

Her parents, Oh my god. Okay that was so fake.

American Horror story did a better job. 

Which is probably why it kept me from killing myself. I watched Violet do it and it scared me. It scared me so I didnt do it. 

You know when I first read the books I guess I was really confused because I thought Mr Porter raped Hannah. I was like in 8th grade. 

Okay so Hannah Baker is still dead. The episode is over. 

How are they going to do season 2? 

I mean Tyler is Obviously going to shoot up the school and Alex tried to off himself. It’s Obvious Alex isnt going to die.  It’s Obvious Tyler isnt going to kill him. 

~

I liked watching this. 

I mean aside from it taking me two months to finish because,  well it kind of was triggering.

Side note:

I am not contemplating suicide please do not message me or call the cops. 

Also for anybody who is. 

National Suicide Prevention LifelineCall 

1-800-273-8255

#13 reasons why #rw Fabulous #Rosekun25 13rw Suicide notFabulous #SaySomething ClayxHannnah 13RW Savealife