#ALL OF MY EARLIEST CHILDHOOD MEMORIES FROM AGE 3 AND UP ARE OF HAVING PANIC ATTACKS

[moghedien]

i swear if you people start uwuifying OCD like you did with ADHD and autism I'm going to start attacking

[thecomposerofstories]

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

Chapter 35: Family pt 2

The man you ran into looks just like you, minus the claws, horns, tusks, tail and your new hair. As you look at him, memories of your childhood come back. “Alan?” Is all you manage to say in astonishment.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Enji says like he sees a ghost.

“I….I…. I think that’s my brother….”

“(Y/N), is it really you?” Alan says as he gets up and walks towards you.

“Ok, this is freaking me out a bit.”

“Calm down, Zaheer. Alan how did you find me?”

“I saw the fight with the demon on the YouTube and you looked just like me. I remember when I was 6, I had a twin brother but he disappeared one day. Mom and dad never spoke about it but I knew you were alive. I looked up where you were to try to meet you. I have been here about a week.”

“The earliest memory I have is when I was 6 and Zaheer was put inside of me. Anything before that is all a blur; they wiped my memory. If you looked me up, why didn’t you just come to the hero agency?”

“I didn’t want to bother you if you’re busy. Plus, I wasn’t even sure if it really was you but it is! I convinced mom and dad to come to Japan too. Did you want to meet them?”

You head begins to spin at the thought of not only having a brother after all this time but even a mom and dad. You never had a family until you met Enji but now you might have your original family. All you can do is stand there until Enji places a hand on your shoulder.

“Alan, why don’t I give you my home address and we can meet there, how’s about 3?”

“That sounds great! I’ll go tell them right now!” Alan says as he goes running off.

“Are you sure about this Enji?  I don’t even remember my childhood before the facility.”

“He looks just like when I first meet you. Everything tells me that he is your twin. We will be safe at home, I promise. Plus, Zaheer can always scare them away if you don’t want them around.”

“You think I’m big and scary?”

“I don’t, but some do. Just make sure (Y/N)’s emotions stay in check. We don’t want another interview incident.”

“I always do.”

The rest of the day’s plans changed so you head home and just eat something quick and relax while waiting for the visitors. It feels like forever but Enji keeps you calm as the time approaches. You jump at the sound of the doorbell and Enji answers. “Please, come in.” Is all he says as he brings the 3 into the living room. Once you see them, you clench the right side of your face.

E: “Are you ok, (Y/N)”

(Y/N): “I’m ok it’s just some memories are coming back right now.”

Mom: “Oh my god, it really is you! I’m sorry…I hope me being here isn’t hurting you.”

(Y/N): “It’s ok, sometimes the memories hurt other times they don’t.” You say lowering your hand.

Dad: “Don’t worry about it. He is a hero; he can handle it.”

Alan: “I’m sorry if I rushed you into this but I’m just so happy to finally to know you’re alive.”

(Y/N): “It’s fine. I’m happy to have a family. I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

D: “Go ahead.”

(Y/N): “How do you know I am your long-lost son?”

M: “A mother always knows their children and you look just like Alan, well before your….um …. transformation.”

(Y/N): “He does look just like me, it’s a little weird seeing someone who looks just like me.”

E: “How you think I feel?” Enji says patting your shoulder.

(Y/N): “How did I end up at the facility?”

D: “Honestly, we don’t know. You ran away at the age of 6 and we kept looking for you for years. I will be honest and say we gave up a few years ago.”

M: “We waited so long to hope you would come back but the police said you either were dead or didn’t want to be found.”

(Y/N): “Why did I run away?”

M: “It was 20 years ago; I honestly don’t remember why.”

A: “Don’t look at me, I was just a kid.”

E: “If I may, why did you wait till now to come? That video of (Y/N) went up over a year and a half ago.”

A: “I saw the video almost right after it happened, but it took till now to convince mom and dad to come.”

(Y/N): “Why?”

M: “We were scared that it really wasn’t you or that you might hate us. I don’t remember what we did for you to run away but maybe you would still have hated us.” She said tearing up.

(Y/N): “I would never be angry for something you didn’t do. Come here.” You motion mom and dad into a hug. The hug breaks after a moment. “Oh, I’m sorry I must be so rude. Did you want anything to drink? Tea?”

M: “Tea sounds nice.”

You go off the kitchen by yourself while Enji stays and talks to your parents and brother. They ask how you two met, when you got married and a few other things. Enji notices that it is taking a long time for the tea. That’s when a red flash comes from the kitchen.

“Excuse me.” Enji says while quickly heading towards the kitchen. “(Y/N), are you ok? I saw Zaheer come out…. what’s going on?”

Zaheer is on the floor while you are sitting in his lap. You are quietly crying into his chest as he holds you, trying to calm you. “It’s his parents.”

“What about them? What’s wrong? Is this too much?”

“It isn’t the memories of his childhood, it’s their memories and what they aren’t telling him.”

“Did they say something? Are they not your parents?”

“He couldn’t help himself when he hugged them. We both saw what happened. I can’t believe what they did, how they call themselves parents I will never know. They are his parents but…I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you.”

“What is it?!” Enji says getting more anxious.

“They sold me….” You whisper.

“What?” Enji says in disbelief.

“They sold me to that man! They sold me to get money to live. It was rough for them and they didn’t have enough money for food. They couldn’t afford both of us so they did what they could so one of us wouldn’t starve.”

“WHAT!?” Enji’s rage begins to build as he starts losing control of his quirk. He storms out of the kitchen, steaming. “YOU SOLD HIM? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE PUT (Y/N) THROUGH?!”

D: “What are you talking about?”

E: “He can read minds; he saw your memories! How DARE you call yourselves parents!” He says as his quirk begins to go into overdrive as flames build around his face.

A: “You sold my brother!? Is this why you didn’t want to come here?” He says beginning to panic.

M: “I never wanted to tell you that! We were going to starve! We did what we thought was best!”

E: “SELLING A CHILD WAS BEST?”

M: “I regret that every day of my life. If I could go back, I would have done something different.”

“HE WAS TORTURED, HE WAS AWAKE DURING SURGERIES, HE ALMOST DIED ON MANY OCCASIONS! HE WAS ALONE IN A ROOM FOR TEN YEARS! HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF DOING THAT TO A CHILD?” Enji is practically foaming at the mouth with rage as his emotions have completely take control.

Your mother begins to cry. “He went through all of that? I didn’t know. He promised he was going to take care of (Y/N).”

E: “Get out of my house.”

D: “Please, just let us talk to…”

“GET…… OUT!!” Enji’s flames start to grow and threaten to burn the house down. The three of them leave and Enji goes back to you in Zaheer’s lap.

“I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. If I would have known this would have happened…”

“Why me?” You manage to whisper.

“What?”

“Why me, why not Alan? Why was I picked to be sold while Alan got to stay? Was he better? Was I sick? What did I do?” You begin to cry more as you bury your face into Zaheer.

“Zaheer, let me take it from here.” In a flash he goes back inside of you and Enji picks you up. “Come on, let’s go take a bath.”

Enji draws the bath and uses his favorite soap, the one he uses after you make love, to try to calm you. After he gets in, you follow and are quickly in-front of Enji. You’re facing him as you lay your head on his chest. The only thing you hear is the sounds of his heart beat and breathing. It’s so calming hearing a familiar sound, the sound of someone who cares for you, someone so close to you, someone who would never hurt you. He just rubs your head as you let the tears run down his chest. “Let it out.” Enji says with the softest tone he can muster. Tears flow for a while until you manage to speak up.

“I…I want to ask them why they chose me but I don’t want to know the answer. I didn’t get a chance to read that part of their memory before it got too much for me. I don’t know if I can ever face them again. They are the reason that I ended up in that place. It’s because of them that I had to suffer so much, the years of torture and loneliness. I can never forgive them for what happened.” You say as your claws start to digging into Enji’s skin. Not enough to cut but enough for Enji to know what you’re going through.

Looking down at you. “That’s ok. You don’t have to forgive them.”

Your eyes meeting his. “What? I thought you always said don’t let the anger consume you. Your anger is what made you lose your kids.”

“I did, you don’t have to forgive them, but come to terms with it. Fuyumi told me that the reason she could move on from my past is because she can’t do anything about it. She never forgave what I did but she knows that I won’t do it ever again. She said that you can’t change your past but you can change the future.”

You lay there still crying as you think about what he just said. “I can try.”

“Good. Anything else?”

��I still want to have a relationship with my brother. He had nothing to do with it and I can tell by his reaction, he had no idea.”

“Keep his number, contact him when you’re ready. Don’t rush into it. If he cares, he will understand.” He says running his fingers through your wet hair.

“I will say one thing that makes me feel better. If they didn’t do what they did, I would never have met you. I know it’s impossible to predict the future but you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“That’s a good way to think about it.”

“And I would do it all over again if I had to, just to be with you.” You say with a goofy grin looking up at Enji.

“(Y/N), now you’re going to make me cry. Why do you always have to be so sappy?” He says as he starts blushing.

“Is my big Enji a big ol crybaby?” You say as you kiss him on the lips and tousle his hair.

Now with his hair down and his face completely red. “Alight. Let’s stop sulking at get out of here. I wanted try your favorite restaurant’s new menu. It’s Sakura themed.”

“Enji, did I ever tell you that I love you?”

“Every day. I love you too.” He says as his hold on you tightens a bit. You finish up in the bathroom and you head off to finish the rest of the day. You do your best to put your parents in the back of your mind and by the end of the day, you manage to not dwell on the memories.

Next Chapter

[blackberry-gingham]

if you haven’t already, could you do something with being childhood bffs with george and it developing into romance?

Aw, this is cute 🥺 of course!

Ik I've done the teddy!george to Beatle George romance, so for this I'm going to do like actual kids to like high school/teddy! George romance :)

Also, this is super long sorry, but idk how to do a cut so oof 💀 anyway, enjoy!

---

You've known him since forever, the boy with the raven hair and funny eyebrows.

You're earliest memories go back to growing up on the streets of Liverpool. Causing trouble on the playground, getting into mischief behind your mother's backs...

He was your best friend. Still is, as a matter of fact. Until the day everything changed.

You're story starts off on a playground, during a mild day in mid August. The sun is shining brightly and the birds are chirping and flitting through the trees happily. If only you could say the same for your mood.

The old swing set creaks methodically as you and George go back and forth.

It's your last summer before your senior year of high school. You two have been going to the same school this whole time at least, but you can't help this nagging feeling that you and George are going to drift apart after school.

He's changed so much since you were kids.

Lately he's made some... other friends. It's not that that's bothering you of course. No, it's more so that they're all teddy boys. And now, so is George. Not to mention they fancy themselves a start up band, which has only been eating up more of George's time away from you.

Besides, you have no idea what to expect with this final year. Honestly, you're scared as it is, and even the thought of losing your best friend is too much to bear.

"Whatcha thinking about square?", George detects the worry undulating off of you, despite the neutral expression on your face. He knows you too well.

You snap out of your thoughts and paint a smile on your face, "Oh, nothing! Are you looking forward to your final year?"

George fixes you with a look. He doesn't believe that nothing's wrong, but knows to not push you if you don't want to talk about it. "Suppose so, although more just to get it over with. Oh, that reminds me! The lads and I have a gig lined up in a few weeks, can you believe it?"

You're heart drops, and you fear you can already feel him slipping away. "That's wonderful George, I can't believe it!"

His face lights up, "Isn't it? We're going to the top I tell you, I'm sure of it!" George digs his boots into the mulch abruptly, and you slow to a stop as well. "Um, I don't suppose you'd come to the gig, will you?"

You fix him with a suspicious look, there's something afoot here... "When and where?"

"The pub downtown, two months from tomorrow, at 3 am", George's voice gets quiter as he goes. The old him would know not to ask something like that in a million years. After all, your parents would never allow it. And if you got caught...

"George... I-"

He cuts you off, suddenly feeling bad it seems, "No no! I-it's alright, I shouldn't have asked. It's not right, you have school and all"

"So do you, ya know", you lean in and laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully the tension seems to melt and George laughs, brushing off the accusation. At last he stands and offers to walk you home. You agree and take a few steps after him...

...Only to trip over an old piece of tarp sticking up from under the mulch.

You let out a yelp, but before you hit the ground, George catches you. He helps you up right and holds onto you for a moment to make sure you're steady, "That was close! You alright square?"

"Fine, thanks to you", you laugh, then kick some mulch over the exposed tarp. "Damn thing..."

George laughs and the two of you walk on, "Say, do you remember when we were kids and you fell off that same swing set?"

"Ugh, how could I forget! I still have the scar on my knee", you pout.

"Really? I didn't know it was that bad"

"It certainly was! Don't you remember, after I fell you picked me up an-"

"...Carried you all the way home?", George finishes the thought for you.

You smile distantly, reminiscing on better days. "Yeah..."

The two of you talk a bit more about your younger days. All sorts of fun and embarrassing stories come to light as you make your way through town. For a moment, you feel like you're with the old George again.

And then, it all screeches to a halt as you arrive on your doorstep.

"Well, here you are then!"

"Yeah... Um, see you tomorrow per chance?"

George's face falls, "Oh... Actually I have practice with the lads... Then I'm helping with chores around the house all this weekend. M-maybe we can hangout again next week?"

The smile you give him doesn't quite reach your eyes, even as you agree that that sounds like a good plan.

It turns out that date does get pushed back a bit more, but you're thankful to have at least one last day together before school starts up again. Things are normal for a while. Well, the new normal, that is. George tries to be in three places at once between you, the lads, and school, and you're worried for him.

You keep waiting to see which of the three he's going to drop to take a load off his schedule... And you're deathly afraid it'll be you.

But somehow he manages to juggle all three, and before you know it, the night of the gig is upon you. George brings the topic up with you momentarily at school, just to give it another try. You’ve been feeling so estranged from him lately that you want nothing more then to say yes...

You just... can’t.

George says he understands, but he can’t mask the disappointment in his eyes. It’s the last look you see from him that day. However, that night, is a different story.

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

A strange noise rouses you from sleep and you get up to investigate. It’s coming from the window... You peak outside to find George out in your yard, throwing rocks at the glass. He sees your outline and starts waving his arms franticly. Quickly, you check the time. It’s 2:03 am.

You heft the window open and George immediately starts chattering. “Morning square! I’m on my way to the pub, I thought maybe you could just sneak out with me since you want to go!”

“Are you mad? You’ll wake the whole house!”, you whisper angrily.

George drops his voice a bit too, but refuses to leave. He says a few more suave and charming words, but more then anything, you can’t deny that you do want to go with him... It takes a little convincing, but you make up your mind to go. You disappear to throw on some going out clothes and navigate your way down out the window and over the roof. It’s a little trick you learned from when you were young.

You haven’t done that in ages...

At last, you and George race off to the bus stop and as though sneaking out past midnight wasn’t exciting enough, the way he grabbed your hand to pull you along through the dark sent your heart soaring.

And when you arrive just in the nick of time the gig to start, you almost hate to admit how much fun you’re having. To think, you almost missed this... The boys are amazing up on stage and the crowd loves them. While you must say, they are all good, you didn’t take your eyes off of George the entire time.

One of the teds, Paul you think, steps up to the mic. “Thank you, you’ve all been wonderful! But before we go, there’s one last song we want to play for you... This goes out to all the sweethearts tonight, it’s called Love me do!”

It’s not on the itinerary, but the crowd whoops and applauds regardless. You focus your attention back to George and he winks at you. In that moment, you experience a feeling you’ve never had in your life. Your blood runs cold, yet you feel on fire. Your fingers and toes tingle, yet you still have complete control over your body. You feel weightless, and yet as though you could collapse.

The song is wonderful, but you were hardly able to pay attention, you were so busy mulling over what that wink meant...

When everything is over, George hurries to catch up with you after the show. He seems so alive.

"You were amazing up there Georgie, absolutely wonderful!"

"Really? You liked it?"

"Of course! I didn't know you were so talented! Why have you never played for me before?", You laugh, but George seems to grow shy all of a sudden.

"I didn't think you were interested... But uh, now I know, I suppose!", he laughs, trying to mend the awkwardness before you can interject. "You know what? We should be getting you home, yeah?"

You whip around to look at the clock. It's nearly 4:30. When you turn back to George, he can already see the panic in your eyes. Without another word, you both race out to the bus stop and wait anxiously to catch a ride.

George tries to make a little small talk and reasure you, but you're having a hard time loosening up. All you can think about is what'll happen if you're caught...

And when you get home, your worst fears are realized. Your dad is sitting on the front porch and the lightning your room has since been turned on. George goes to hold your hand, but you nudge him away as you trudge to your doom.

Your dad doesn't say a word. You already know how much trouble you're in. He looks at George with a deadly scowl etched into his face.

"Sir, I'm sorry, it was m-"

The door slams in his face, and all George can hear is the sound of yelling from the other side as he's forced to walk away.

You're not allowed to see George outside of school for a looooong time. Which is almost fine with you. You can't believe you listened to him...

George tries to apologise to you fervently the next time he sees you, but you blow him off. It takes a few days before you speak to him again, and George feels crushed. That night couldn't have ended more terribly. There was so much he wanted to tell you... But, he can't let you go.

Over time you come around to better terms with your lifetime friend. It takes some work, but George is determined to restore your trust in him. And slowly but surely, your grievance becomes forgotten. He hasn't spend this much time with you since you were children. And honestly? He hasn't been this fun since then either...

He takes you out for ice cream on weekends. You go to the park after school together nearly everyday, that you can. And once you're officially allowed to spend time with him, he even invites you over to watch practice with the lads.

And before you know it, winter has passed and spring is nearly gone too. It's the end of the year and there's one last hurrah to come before graduation. Prom season is upon you.

You know who you want to ask you, but you fear it's too much to even hope. But then, one sunny day...

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

Curious, you get up from your desk and wander over to the window. You throw it open and look out. There in the lawn, George stands with a large, handwritten sign above his head. He looks up at you with big, puppy eyes, and he's never been more afraid in his whole life.

Prom? The sign reads.

You scamper out of your window, and nearly trip in your excitement to say yes. George drops his sign and catches you before you hit the ground. You jump up, alight with excitement, "Yes, yes!", you can't stop bouncing, even as George holds you steady.

George smiles at you with an affection you've never seen before. He doesn't say a word. Instead, he picks you up and gives you a spin while you yelp in surprise. When he puts you back down, the two of you share a long look and you think, there's no one in the whole world you'd rather give your first kiss to.

As though he can read your mind, George leans in slowly, giving you an option. But you can't contain yourself, you rush forward and throw your arms around his leather covered shoulders. The smell of his musky hair gel and warm leather jacket wash over you as he holds you tight.

It's the kind of embrace you'd grow familiar with. You don't know it now, but you'll find yourself wrapped in it for the rest of your days.

[donnerpartyofone]

#3

I don’t ever remember feeling good. I don’t mean to say that I’ve never had moments of happiness, that I don’t love my friends, that I regret getting married; I’m not denying that I’ve had the opportunity to pursue passions in life, or that I feel incredibly lucky to have led my privileged life. I mean that I wanted to kill myself when I was a really little kid. I suffer from an incredibly detailed long term memory that goes back before I reached the age of two, and what I remember about childhood is the scathing heat of embarrassment, itching under a layer of cold sweat, revulsion at the hideousness and impracticality of my own body, horror at a world that was ugly, dirty, cheap, boring and airless, a world that was all these things and that required mandatory participation, a factory that makes nothing. I vacillated between mindless rage, and violent sobbing, which I indulged on purpose in pursuit of catharsis. There wasn’t much that I wanted, because everything seemed so repulsive. The main thing was that I wanted to be left alone, and unseen. Each morning I would wake up gripped by panic, because I knew that once I left my bedroom to come to breakfast, everyone was going to look at me. It would take me what felt like hours to work up the nerve to open the door, and when I did I would begin to scream “DON’T LOOK AT ME! DON’T LOOK AT ME!” like a toddler version of Frank Booth. It’s pretty hilarious to think about, but the truth is that I still feel like doing that every time I show up somewhere.

My earliest memory is of my mother trying to take my picture. It took place in an apartment I couldn’t exactly place, so at first I thought it must have been a dream. I was very little, but I understood enough about what the camera meant--that I was being stared at. I turned away, and was repositioned; then I tried to run away. My mother chased me, increasingly infuriated, until I was cornered behind the hilariously prison-like bars of my crib, where she could photograph me whether I liked it or not. I eventually found the resulting picture of myself agonizing behind the crib, confirming that I remembered being about one-and-a-half, living in an apartment before the house I grew up in. The memory serves as something like a metaphor for everything I have been afraid of--helplessness, captivity, surveillance, and of course, my mother.

There is no doubt that I had a serious chemical problem that caused my catastrophic rages and suicidal ideation, even so early in life. (I would find out about that...well, just a few years ago) But, lest I fall into the trap that therapy so often creates--the belief that everything that is wrong with you is within your own power to change, that sadness and anger are only the result of your own bad attitude, which just needs an adjustment--I have to admit that there is something within all this about my mother. I have traditionally categorized this particular woe as a void of maternal relationship. My mother and I “didn’t get along” or “didn’t really relate”, and then before I was old enough for us to have our first adult conversation, she was dead. As I teased out some anecdotal details of our absence from each other’s lives with my first therapist, that doctor once started one of our sessions by blithely declaring, “So you say your mother hated you!” Actually I never said that, but thanks for illuminating things so brightly, you...fucking asshole. Ironically, one of the things I didn’t like about this young, attractive, waspy therapist was that her Kelly Bundy-ish work attire made it impossible for me to bring up any anxieties I had around my own attractiveness, or my alienation from the rest of my gender. The alienation from the rest of my gender that had certainly begun with my alienation from my mother.

I don’t remember a single nurturing, initiatory experience with my mother. I had my first period young, and when I naturally went to her for help--well, to be fair, I probably told her that I more or less understood how things went, but I still think we probably should have had a longer conversation than just her telling me not to flush maxi pads down the toilet, and coolly dismissing me. I remember the first time I tried on makeup, her makeup of course; as soon as she spotted me, she asked “Are you wearing makeup?” in this razor sharp tone, and scowled at me until I followed her unspoken instruction to go to the bathroom, wash my face, and send myself to my room. Again, no further discussion of makeup, clothing, or general womanhood issues ensued. Similarly, I remember a day when I had become just old enough to pick out some of my own clothes. We went shopping for underwear, and every model she suggested, I just wanted in black. I didn’t realize what kind of rage this was stoking in her until she suddenly snapped, “DON’T YOU WANT ANYTHING OTHER THAN BLACK?” and spun away from me. I had no idea what rule I was breaking to deserve this, although the truth is that probably some primitive part of me understood that it was kind of a sexual problem. In the following years I developed into a huge comic book nerd, spending almost all my time copying what I didn’t really know were pretty sleazy pinup images of female characters out of X-Men comics. I had an inkling that these were sort of horny-looking, but I was really attracted to the drawings, which were heavily cross-hatched and compulsively detailed, according to the predominant style of the '90s. That kind of intense, microscopic linework has always attracted me, and one day I stupidly asked my mother, an artist herself, what she thought of a certain drawing I was studying. Most unfortunately, it was of the White Queen, a really idiotic character whose costume is essentially lingerie. What really interested me about it was the linework, but my hopes of discussing art were dashed when my mother spat “I THINK IT’S BORDERLINE PORNOGRAPHY!” and promptly stormed off. That probably would have been a pretty good time for her to talk with her insecure, confused eleven year old girlchild about feminism, body positivity, or any of the other facts of being a woman that I desperately needed to hear. I didn’t get any of that either when, around the same time, I started trying to talk to her about feeling fat and ugly, and she just threw a diet book at me. When I remember my mother, I most immediately remember the back of her head.

This all makes my mother sound like some sort of tyrannical throwback housewife, but none one would have told you that about her. Mom was “cool”. A playfully subversive hippie painter from Brown who loved kitsch and camp, she filled our house with old pulp novels, 3D horror comics, bootlegs of Mystery Science Theater 3000, tapes of Warhol’s Frankenstein and Dracula. She was a striking dresser, imperiously intelligent, and brutally funny. She was outrageously popular among everyone who knew her. The strange truth, though, was that while she had the outward appearance of a mischievous hipster on the cutting edge of culture, on the inside she had a rigid resistance to anything she considered psychologically or emotionally abnormal. Sadness and frustration were unacceptable, antisocial qualities, inconveniences that were grounds for rejection. So, as if she’d been cursed by a spiteful witch, instead of having a fun, affectionate, curious, creative mini-me, her first born turned out to be a taciturn suicide case, constantly quivering with fear and rage--the ultimate in uncoolness. I have a recollection of being around 12 and complaining to her about a friend of mine who was (also) sort of a drip and a drama queen. My mother’s advice to me was to say to my difficult friend, “I’m sorry you feel that way,” which is a clever way of expressing sympathy while giving no credit at all to the sources of the person’s pain. Even at that young age, I kind of thought...hey wait a minute, that’s exactly what she’s been saying to me!

Lest anyone think of her as some sort of roundly superior specimen, I can also say that she was sort of a nerd. She had a huge number of allergies, and also asthma, which she passed on to my brother and me. (And ironically, my lifelong snorting and snuffling and sneezing became one of the many things about me that visibly disgusted her) This, combined with my father’s amorphous environmental illnesses (see: the brilliant Todd Haynes movie SAFE), compelled my parents to try to move house. When I was about 11, we moved across our grimy, depressed city to a much bigger house in a nicer neighborhood. Shortly after we got settled, my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Her doctor’s advice was to go home and make her peace, immediately, but she shocked everyone by surviving for at least another three years. When people hear that, they always respond as if it must have been some sort of beautiful miracle. No one who has lived with the dying could think this. Our lives turned into NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, quickly and consistently, every day a frank, unromantic confrontation with mortality, until it was over.

What could I possibly feel? This person who was a virtual stranger to me, who didn’t like me, who turned into a rotting corpse in front of me, had died in agony. Instead of trying to raise a happy, healthy person, she had sat back expecting me to seduce her, and I had failed. So, I didn’t know what the loss of her really meant. I would never understand anything about maternity, and I would never figure out anything about being a woman that I didn’t ultimately make up for myself. The only thing I really knew about first hand was death. I didn’t understand much of anything about my mother’s actual biological reality, because no one really communicated with me about it, but I knew for sure that the human body is a bunch of bullshit and there is just no reason to be precious about it, ever. Unfortunately, one is never left in dignified solitude with their own interpretation of death. Death is a curse that befalls the living, who are then suddenly and disproportionately responsible for each other’s feelings. This is never more true than when you physically resemble the dead. You become everybody’s confessor, the person with whom they try to relive their experience with the living, and you better be nice about it--even if you are technically more entitled to grief and resentment and anguish than anybody in the room. And of course, this was never more true than with someone who had always frightened me more than my mother: my mother’s mother.

[mockjesse]

100 important questions about jesse girard.

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name?

jesse thomas girard

Where and when were you born?

i was born in wilmington, north carolina on october 1st, 1988.

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

hans girard ( my father) has owned his own pub since he first came to america in 1986. he’s hard working, emotionally distant, and very a man of few words. hans only speaks when he absolutely has to. frieda girard (my mother) managed finances at the pub and was a part owner of a gift shop downtown. she was also very emotionally distant, but she was much more outspoken than her husband. she passed away in september of 2017.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

N/A ( i’m an only child, thank god )

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

now i reside in los angeles ( ocean park ), on my own in a 501 sq ft. studio apartment. it’s pretty cozy, i don’t think i’d ever upgrade, i like the space i have. my favorite spot is my balcony.

What is your occupation?

director/producer for the hit television show, countenance

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

i’m 6′3, 196 pounds, with brown eyes and dark brown hair. i live in oversized sweaters and jeans, but sometimes i’ll venture out in a pair of sweats and a t shirt, that’s quite rare. not as rare as formal attire. i don’t think i own a suit but i have two nice button down shirts and one pair of navy slacks. i have a scar that stretches from the bottom of my belly button to my left pelvic bone from a sledding accident when i was nine. i have two tattoos that are very hidden. one on my right hip ( a dara celtic knot for my maternal grandmother, who was irish ) and a vacancy sign across the right side of my chest ( a drunken decision )

To which social class do you belong?

upper class.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

shellfish allergy, and a few mental illnesses.

Are you right- or left-handed?

lefthanded

What does your voice sound like?

deep and often monotone. friends have observed that i sometimes use a german accent (much like my fathers) to refer to anything german or my heritage.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

“like”

“actually”

“literally”

“fuck you”

“don’t touch me”

“ok so”

“no”

“jesus fuck”

What do you have in your pockets?

loose change as always, my wallet, a pack of spearmint gum ( which i religiously chew ) and my keys.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

i bite my nails down to a nub. it makes everyone crazy. i nibble at them until they bleed. i crack my knuckles when i’m nervous. sometimes i click my tongue when i’m trying to avoid saying something I’ll regret. when someone is talking to me at work, i may walk away halfway through the conversation to do something else, not because i’m bored but because i have so many things to do and if i don’t do it now, i’ll forget.

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general?

it wasn’t easy growing up in my household. you developed thick skin very early on, and you learned to rely on yourself. there weren’t many warm and fuzzy moments, but they provided all of my essential needs such as food, water, and a roof over my head.

What is your earliest memory?

probably my fourth birthday party at mcdonalds. i hated clowns. it was hell. i swear ronald had it out for me.

How much schooling have you had?

i got my bachelors at university of north carolina at wilmington and my masters at nyu

Did you enjoy school?

absolutely. it was an escape for me. home life could be very discouraging, i could show up on campus, take a test, and suddenly i felt better.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

i suppose my teachers and professors taught me most of what i know today.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

my role models ended up being directors i idolized growing up. my favorites are stanley kubrick and alfred hitchcock. i suppose you can call them role models. i want what they have, i want to direct thrillers and leave the audience on the edge of their seats. i think they each value suspense and storytelling, and i do too.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

i did not get on very well with my parents. i think my uncles and aunts were easier to get along with, because they have become much more collectivist through the years. they gave me most of my affection in my childhood. my grandparents gave solid advice so i valued them too.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

at one point i wanted to be a police officer but most little boys do. that dream vanished quick, i think directing came at age eleven.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

i liked to watch movies. i hated tv shows. i would turn on hbo or showtime and just watch movie after movie while my parents worked. i liked to skateboard as a teenager, and i also took up photography as a hobby during middle school and high school.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

many people joked that i was a 40 year old man trapped in a 8 year old’s body. i was always very quiet, very observant. i never spoke unless spoken to, that was rare. i was very restless, i hated bullies. i would defend a kid i didn’t even know on the playground. i was suspended for many fights.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? When and with whom was your first kiss?

not popular at all, i was too quiet. i had a few friends in middle school and one good one in high school. i did not open up to a lot of people, so i think a lot of people took that personal. my friends in middle school were always studious but goofy. we drifted apart when we went to different high schools. my best friend in high school was nick staffield, who was a lot like me. we were both quiet and distant but we had this mutual understanding that we didn’t need to know what the other person went home to. he had a pretty rough homelife too. so we would go to the cinema after class or stay behind after photography to look at our negatives. my first kiss with a girl was with annaleigh winslow, she was my first girlfriend. it was freshman year. she had to make all of the first moves because i was really unfamiliar with romance. my first kiss a guy was with nick, our senior year. it unfortunately was one of the reasons we lost touch.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

not a virgin, no. i lost my virginity with a girl in college, freshman year. we hooked up at a party, i think her name was rachel. we didn’t do formalities. it was nice, and she didn’t expect much from me after, so i appreciated her. however, it set unusually high standards for hookups at parties. my first time with a guy was different. it was senior year of college and we went into it with no strings attached. he was some big jock so i went with it, i figured he wasn’t into relationships. but he also wouldn’t stop texting me afterwards. his name was alex, i think he has a fiancee now.

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

i think my first table reading of countenance was surreal. it made me feel like it was all coming together. i feel bad, i made very few notes to the actors, but i think i was immersed, completely.

Who has had the most influence on you?

i would say my professors from tisch and uncw. their input, their criticism, and their teachings have pushed me to be where i am today.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

my greatest achievement was getting a second season of countenance. i honestly didn’t see it coming, but i’m a pessimist.

What is your greatest regret?

not saying goodbye to my mother before she passed.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

i don’t know if i’ve done anything evil but i did sleep with a married professor...

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

just some minor tickets for drinking in college.

When was the time you were the most frightened?

i hate heights, so any time i have to go on a plane? i have a panic attack.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

one time i stretched during a presentation in grad school and my shirt button popped off and everyone started laughing and i wanted to die.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

i think i would open myself up more to people and relationships. it would have prepared me more.

What is your best memory?

i think when i got a call about a network picking up countenance. i was floored, i threw up.

What is your worst memory?

finding out my mother had passed away while i was filming.

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

pessimist.

What is your greatest fear?

i think complete failure scares me a lot... but loneliness keeps me up at night.

What are your religious views?

agnostic.

What are your political views?

liberal

What are your views on sex?

love it, but it comes with a lot of strings attached so i’ve been holding off.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

nah i couldn’t kill. just seriously injure.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

i think levels of disrespect are what lead us to be evil. i won’t dwell on it or expand because it’ll anger me.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

no but i do believe in love.

What do you believe makes a successful life?

i think setting out to do what you want and then accomplishing some or most of it is pretty damn successful.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

i’m never honest. i hate telling others what’s on my mind, or how i’m feeling. it feels too personal, and it feels invasive. i’m selective about who i share with.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

i think we all do. i was conditioned to, but i’m unlearning all of them.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

i refuse to fucking sky dive because i don’t see the point of plummeting to your death and relying on a flimsy piece of cloth to save me ? no ? fuck that ? why do people like to fall out of the motherfucking sky?

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

uhh.. my friends. the few i have. if i form a close bond with someone, even if i don’t open up to them, i’d most likely take a bullet for them. i may be stoic but i’m a pile of mush inside.

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

i keep most people at a distance as a default. i don’t treat anyone poor unless they absolutely warrant it. i try to remain civil with everyone. with people i’m close with, my softer side is more common. i like to give them more of my personality to make up for my lack of affection or emotional availability.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

i’m not sure i have someone like that.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

*

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

*

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

no spouse, no s/o. it’s complicated.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

no i haven’t but i have experienced spells of infatuation and it’s probably the worst thing i’ve ever dealt with in my life. who likes to feel all that shit at once? jesus, what a mess.

What do you look for in a potential lover?

i’d really like.. someone who understands me without any invasive questions. they won’t ask me for more than i can give. i’m so inexperienced in romance so my s/o would have to be patient with me. i guess beyond that? a nice smile.. yeah i’d like them to have a nice smile.

How close are you to your family?

not very. i do speak with my aunts sometimes, that’s about it.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

no family, i’m not really sure if i’ll ever reach that point in my life. it sounds terrifying. i don’t think i’m qualified to take care of another human like that. it’s miraculous my fish have survived as long as they have.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

there’s some people in the crew and the cast that i might call if i absolutely had to. i really don’t like to rely on someone else, though.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

not really.. i mean once again i feel like one person might come to mind but it’s.. yeah that’s dumb, sorry. we barely know each other so i’m overreacting.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

my goldfish would probably miss me, they wouldn’t be able to eat, after all.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

i don’t despise anyone. i dislike a few people. i think they all know who they are.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

god i should avoid conflict but i don’t. i try to remain neutral unless i’m having a bad day, or if i feel like someone is being treated poorly. then the gloves come off.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

i hate doing it, but yeah. i think my job has taught me that the only way to succeed is to take a leadership role. it drains me, but the outcome is always rewarding.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

jesus fuck, no way. those convention panels shouldn’t exist. that’s my hell. i hate answering questions, especially personal ones. thank god, the business related questions are usually directed at me, while the personal ones are directed at my cast. otherwise i think i’d lose it.

Do you care what others think of you?

i think it depends on the person. i care what my family thinks. other than that.. not really.

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?

i like photography and painting with watercolors. it helps with creativity so i never run dry. i get inspiration from the smallest thing, so it keeps me fresh.

What is your most treasured possession?

my projector or my laptop. i love technology so much, i wish i had something more meaningful but that’s what comes to mind.

What is your favorite color?

navy or olive.

What is your favorite food?

grilled cheese. i think i eat it more than i should.

What, if anything, do you like to read?

i think i just thumb through the classics, the most. steinbeck is my favorite author, sometimes i’ll read thoreau.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?

a movie with beautiful cinematography, a song with a symphony or large instrumental accompany, or a mini series.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

i think if you drew blood from me, half of it would actually be red wine. i love red wine. i drink a glass or two every night. i used to smoke cigarettes... i’ll smoke one after sex because i’m a walking cliche. i hate drugs for the most part. they never give me the thrill people claim to have when they take them. to me it’s a waste of time when you could have a better night with a bottle of cabernet.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night?

usually i’ll put a movie on my projector and i’ll pretend to start a book, but then i’ll just watch a tv show or something.

What makes you laugh?

i actually love certain vines. cute animal vines have a place in my stony heart.

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?

rain ponchos are fucking atrocious.

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

i usually get up and paint or i’ll sit outside on my balcony and people watch with a cup of coffee. usually everyone’s drunk, so what more could you ask for?

How do you deal with stress?

i stress clean. or i stew about it until i can nap.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

planning is sexy. a top ten turn on for me.

What are your pet peeves?

well there’s a special place in hell for anyone who doesn’t use a fucking turn signal when switching lanes.

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

usually i get up, grab a cup of coffee and a granola bar and head to work. if i wake up late and forget the granola bar or coffee, my coworkers are in trouble.

What is your greatest strength as a person?

i think my determination and organization. i believe that’s how i got my own show at a young age like this

What is your greatest weakness?

my inability to relate to people or my emotional capacity. it’s just low and i think i really miss out on a lot because of it.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

i think i’d be more open with my friends. tell them more about myself.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

introverted.

Are you generally organized or messy?

organized.

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

three things i’m good at: my job, anything requiring creativity, & organization

three things i’m bad at: anything with hand eye coordination, staying in my lane, & responsibility.

Do you like yourself?

this is a loaded question. i like traits about myself. overall there’s a lot i’d change.

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

i would love one oscar, at least. i feel like i could easily retire with one (1) oscar.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

hopefully still at countenance, maybe wrapping it up and venturing into movies.

If you could choose, how would you want to die?

in my sleep. please @ god or something.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

travel is always on my bucket list but that’s hard in 24 hours. i think i’d make a lot of phone calls and say stuff to people that i couldn’t say right now. i would want everyone to know exactly how i feel about them. i’d probably eat a whole bowl of cookie dough because you gotta go out in a blaze of glory. and then maybe i’d have sex one last time because it’s been awhile...

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

hopefully, my accomplishments on screen. i know i can also be difficult on set... but i’d like my cast and crew to think of me in a positive light... maybe have an impact on them too.

What three words best describe your personality?

witty, tempestuous, & protective.

What three words would others probably use to describe you?

stoic, tempestuous, & enigmatic.

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…)

ooc; honestly jesse ?! if you spent half your time telling others how you really felt, you’d solve 99.9% of your problems. it’s so hard to open up, but you’re missing out on life by holding everyone at an arms length, man !! please just @ people next time ? jesus christ dude.

[janyolski]

Fic: Paradise Lost

Link to FFN | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Read on for Ch 4

Summary: A Rachel Redemption story! Set after the events of 5x10, it follows Rachel Duncan and what happens to her after her sisters gain their freedom at the expense of hers. She is stripped of everything that made her who she is, she has a target on her back, and she's missing one eye.

Author’s Note:  Who else wants a Cosima & Rachel friendship, anyone?

Chapter 4: Changing

There has probably never been anyone who has walked this earth more self-aware than Rachel Duncan. She knew she was apart from the human race at age 6 because she is a clone. Then she knew she was apart from her fellow clones because she was raised by their creators with the knowledge that she is a clone. So, it’s safe to say Rachel Duncan grew up with a terrible case of narcissism, superiority complex, and a personality disorder and obviously has a bad habit of overthinking everything; but these were things Rachel was aware of, too. Rachel was aware of everything, of her anger and her issues, of her strengths and weaknesses, of the things she can bend that won’t break, and of the things she’s had to break to get what she wanted. And her life has always been a matter of that. Everything was logical in her life, every cause and every effect. She’d developed those issues because of her upbringing. She’d made her choices because those were the ones that provided an advantage.

And then she’d cut her own eye out, saved the child of the one person that hated her the most, and worked in cohorts with that person’s foster mother to bring about the destruction of Neolution that ended up stripping her of any form of power and advantage and putting a target on her back. These all made sense, even if it left her running and hiding like this.

And for all of Cosima Niehaus’ academic accolades and scientific achievements, her clone was not making sense to her.

Thank you?

Rachel Duncan just had absolutely no response to that. She wasn’t even sure exactly what it meant. Gratitude?What for? For helping them defeat the movement that brought on their creation? For providing the LEDA list?

But these were all self-serving. She’d wanted to free herself so she agreed to cooperate with Siobhan. Plus, it was with Siobhan’s help that she was rescued from the Dyad building after she’d gouged out her own eye. She’d given the LEDA list because she’d thought that maybe if she did that there was a chance the other clones would provide her sanctuary, or at least help her in running away from the people who would kill her, but it was also logical that they didn’t. Or was it a thank you for the lunch? But wasn’t Cosima the one paying for it, anyway? Wasn’t Cosima the one who drove them?

If anything she should be thanking Cosima. But, of course, she’s too narcissistic and proud for that.

Cosima studies Rachel from across the small cafe table. The scientist watches her clone’s internal turmoil from her words of gratitude. It was almost comical in away, Cosima thinks. She could almost picture out a crack video where there are car crashes and nuclear explosions with mushroom clouds behind Rachel, as her brain is probably short-circuiting from trying to comprehend the gratitude thrown at her without any ties of expectations of anything in return.

And Cosima is right.

Rachel’s brain is figuratively short-circuiting. It’s almost funny, then Cosima feels everything make a sudden depressive turn when she recognizes the barely visible signs that Rachel is currently having a panic attack. She notices Rachel’s breathing coming out in short quick breaths, the fidgeting hands that were picking at the sides of nails under their table, the clenching of the jaw, and the blinking. She thinks about all Rachel’s been through; how the short-haired woman has probably built herself around this persona of the epitome of self-awareness and self-control because the woman was in control of literally nothing her whole life - not the tests, not her education, not her monitors-turned-partners, and especially not anything right now when her previous life was burned to a crisp.

So, Cosima scrambles to say anything, anything, that would pull the other woman out of her internal conflict.

“Anyway…”

Cosima starts off. She sees that Rachel’s eyes are still distant and the woman is still stuck inside her own head. Rachel’s hands were under the table, still possessed by her small tick. Cosima goes through everything and anything she can say and starts to panic herself. She looks outside the cafe for anything, any topic. The weather? No, that’s not distracting enough. Then she sees a woman walking her dog and it clicks inside Cosima’s mind.

Dog. Nice weather. Nice day.

Dog. Day.

Dog days…

And the song “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + The Machine plays inside her head and it was just perfect.

“Hey, Rachel, you said you liked Eminem once but you’re more of a meditation, instrumental music type, right?”

Cosima watches the exact moment where Rachel blinks away the glaze in her eyes, looks at her, and focuses on her. The scientist breathes a sigh of relief. Rachel looks a little disoriented but Cosima knows she has the woman’s attention now.

“Well… I mean, music, right?”

Rachel tilts her head and thinks this one is one of the odd clones, very talkative and random. She also likes moving those hands around while she talks, almost like she’s flailing sometimes, Rachel thinks.

“Mhmm. Yes. That’s… incredibly random, Cosima.”

Cosima chuckles nervously, but also goes phew, mentally. The scientist holds her hand up in the air, and opens her mouth to say something.

But the scientist has absolutely no rebuttal to that - she has always been a weird, random person, even as a child- then closes her mouth.

Rachel watches Cosima’s face and almost chuckles, almost. The short haired woman catches herself and stops her quiet laughter from surfacing. She expertly dials down her emotions to a small upward twitching of her lip. Cosima catches the change in Rachel’s expression anyway, and arches an eyebrow.

“Huh. Yeah, okay, you’re right.”

Cosima, looks down, pushes her eyeglasses up her nose and lets out her own little chuckle.

“Okay, in my defense, Rachel, I was about to recommend to you this really sick musician that I’m sure you’d fall in love with.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, feeling more comfortable and more herself now.

“Haven’t you heard? I don’t have a heart. I’m absolutely incapable of love.”

Cosima snorts. Yeah, sure.

Rachel narrows her eyes. Cosima rolls hers. The scientist swears to herself to get her clone to drop the bitch act someday. She's succeeded with her other clones; she definitely got Sarah to drop the punk ho vibe around her and Alison to drop the uptight suburban mom attitude around the sestras. Helena was still Helena, of course. Cosima decides to make it her mission to make Rachel feel comfortable enough around her to just be herself - still a bitch but at least one who doesn’t have to guard her emotions all the time.

“Yeah, okay. That's beside the point. I’m saying, they’re great and they make great music. They’re called Florence and The Machine. I have one of their albums in the car and you’re totally taking it home to listen to it.”

Rachel blinks. In all of her musings on how this lunch is going to go, she’d never considered they’ll be talking about music. But she figures that this was nice. It felt normal, something just two people at a cafe would be doing - making small talk while waiting for the food.

Speaking of food, a waiter comes up with their orders on a tray in one hand. Cosima smiles at him, remembering to leave tips later. The smell of the hot, freshly cooked meals hits her nose and she realizes that this is one of the better meals she’s had since coming to this country.

Cosima takes a fork then points at her lasagna.

“This looks amazing. Bon appetit, Rachel.”

Cosima digs in and Rachel joins her.

They finish the meal slowly, both taking their time. After the initial awkwardness, Cosima decided that maybe the best way to get her clone to open up is to open up herself. So, she starts talking about her childhood in San Francisco, on the boats.

“You know, my earliest childhood memory is our old record player on our boat, playing Elvis or The Beatles every night after dinner. So if you’re wondering why I seem to be big on music and whatnot, blame it there.”

Rachel takes a sip of her tea.

“I wasn’t really wondering, but thanks for sharing.”

Cosima resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, the scientist looks her clone straight in the eye and deadpan shuts her down.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Maybe you’d be less of a bitch if you had more music in you.”

Rachel’s eyes widen.

Did she just…?

Oh, she did.

And Rachel’s facade crumbles in the best way. The short haired LEDA bursts out laughing. Cosima doesn’t resist and joins her. The laughter dies down and Rachel nods then tilts her head afterwards.

“Cheeky.”

Cosima nods, holding a hand in the air as if to say, yup, that’s me.

“Well, I actually think you’re right, Cosima. But who would I be if I wasn’t a bitch?”

Cosima smirks and nods.

“Too true, Rachel. Too true.”

[maergo]

BECAUSE YOU ASKED ME 4 TIMES, ALL 100 QUESTIONS

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name?Choi Minho

Where and when were you born?New York, December 9th 1991

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)My mom is Lee Jieun, she used to be a hairdresser for celebrities but kinda retired from it. My dad’s name is Choi Yunkyum and he’s a surgeon specialized in open heart surgeries.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?I used to have a twin brother named Minsuk, we were an exact replica of each other, both physically and personality-wise, except he was smarter 

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.South Korea with my husband, his kids and a whole lot of pets.

What is your occupation?I’m a writer

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.Pffft okay uh i’m about 181cm tall, don’t know my weight exactly but it’s probably between 70 and 75 kg depending on whether or not I regularly work out and maintain my muscles. I have a tattoo on the inside of my ringfinger, a scar on my face and one on my arm. 

To which social class do you belong?

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?I’m allergic to roses

Are you right- or left-handed?Both, and I regularly switch between the two

What does your voice sound like?Like shit probably

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?The audacity (of this bitch), rude, lame, shithead… the list goes on

What do you have in your pockets?My phone

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?I’d say no but there’s things I do that people would probably think is strange 

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general?It was all fun and games up until I was 10

What is your earliest memory?I think that’d be my mom singing in the kitchen

How much schooling have you had?Made it all the way up to university

Did you enjoy school?I did enjoy it a lot

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?Most things I learn by myself

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.My role model was mom, who always tried to be as kind as possible to other people despite their racist tendencies. 

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?With my dad things became quite rough after I came out as gay, my other family members don’t know as much about me and neither do I know about them because we hardly see and talk to each other.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?I’ve always wanted to do something with writing.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?I enjoyed going to the playground and just play all kinds of games with my brother and the other kids of the neighborhoods.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?You’d have to ask my mom

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?My brother and I were quite popular, that was up until my brother passed away and I couldn’t bring myself to still be as happy and elevated.

When and with whom was your first kiss?Ages ago, I don’t remember who it was with.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?No, I lost my virginity to my ex just over a year ago. 

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.So I tried to kill myself and then the micino didn’t agree with that and ever since I’m stuck with drinking blood

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?Graduating university 

Who has had the most influence on you?No one I think

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

What is your greatest regret?Not staying at the place I was supposed to stay

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?I killed a bug once?

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?No

When was the time you were the most frightened?Can’t remember so quickly

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?It’s embarrassing when I finally think I have my life on track and then 0.5 seconds after that thought something bad happens

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?That the accident 17 years ago never happened

What is your best memory?The proposal that didn’t involve a ring honestly

What is your worst memory?The car accident

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?More pessimistic

What is your greatest fear?Being left by everyone I love

What are your religious views?Believe in what you want to believe

What are your political views?I don’t care for politics

What are your views on sex?Always use a condom?????? snorts idk

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?So as mentioned before, I killed a bug once and I regretted that for a long time. I’m not able to kill, at least not consciously. If it’d be possible then I would prefer no one would get killed but that’s a very unrealistic thought

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?Torture someone, whether that be physical or mentally,.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?I want to believe in it

What do you believe makes a successful life?Being content with what you have. 

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?I’m very honest when it comes to it, but I do hide a lot because I don’t want to bother the people around me.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?I’d never. ever torture someone.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?Listen if someone needs a volunteer that’ll get killed in order for them to stay alive I’ll be the first to raise my hand

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?I try to be polite/ neutral at first meeting but I do keep a distance. Depending on how they are I’ll either get comfortable quickly or not at all. Treatment may change over time but that also depends on the person.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?My mom because even when she doesn’t agree with certain things I do, she always tries to understand me and help me out whenever needed.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?That’d also be mom because she’s the greatest mom

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.I have like three friends and they’re all idiots

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.I do and I have no idea how to describe him because there are no words that could properly define him. He’s not perfect, by far, but I love his imperfections and I love how I can see him try so hard to be the best version of himself.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.Got disappeared on,

What do you look for in a potential lover?Comfort and honesty.

How close are you to your family?I’m very close with my mom and with dad things are improving overtime.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?I haven’t started anything by myself but I do have a husband who has kids, so they’re my family. I’d want to get kids of myself someday but I’m too afraid to really commit to it already.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?If it’s about serious matters I always go to mom.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?The micino because he’d be the first to figure out something’s up

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?I’d hope no one

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?No one I think?

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?I’m all in for arguments because 9/10 times I am the one who causes them to happen anyway

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?No, I would not be a good leader.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?No because I always fuck up the mood

Do you care what others think of you?Yes, but I hate admitting to it since I know it’d be my own fault if they dislike me.

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?Playing the piano has been my main hobby again as of lately

What is your most treasured possession?The one picture of my brother and I that I didn’t tear apart.

What is your favorite color?I’ll go with burgundy red

What is your favorite food?Any food

What, if anything, do you like to read?Anything that’s easy to read through.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?I like it easy, not too crowded and not too loud. Idk what examples to give

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?Yes, yes and yes. The first has become too much of a habit, the second one I hardly do anymore unless it’s during dinner and the third is also just a bad habit but that generally only happens when I’m having a really bad panic attack. I’ve never considered quitting yet, that’d probably only happen when it clearly starts affecting my health

How do you spend a typical Saturday night?Either at home with the micino and kids or somewhere else if there’s an event or something

What makes you laugh?People who accidentally hurt themselves

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?People who think they can make certain jokes or comments when you don’t even know each other well. That both shocks and offends me because I can’t imagine anyone to be raised like that,

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?I usually start by restlessly turning around in bed and then I get out to play the piano. As of lately that’s the only way I deal with it

How do you deal with stress?I let it happen and then I get stressed over how stressed I am only to get more stressed and it’s just a never ending circle of always being stressed so at this point I don’t even know what to do anymore to make it any better

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?I usually do like a plan beforehand but sometimes I can be spontaneous.

What are your pet peeves?When things get pushed too much against someone’s will.

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?I wake up, I stay in bed for as long as I can which is always different every day since no day is really the same. Then I get up to get breakfast for myself & to prepare some for the micino, I feed the pets, give them water, clean their litterboxes and then I get ready for the day. After that I either work at home or if I have meetings I attend those, do groceries after and by the time I’m done with that it’s already time for dinner, so I make and eat that and during the evening I either work some more or do absolutely nothing.

What is your greatest strength as a person?I don’t easily give up on something or someone.

What is your greatest weakness?I don’t take it too well when someone tells me off.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?My entire personality

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?Introverted

Are you generally organized or messy?Organized

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.Playing the piano, writing and cookingMaking/ maintaining friends(hips), being optimistic, taking compliments

Do you like yourself?No

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?I want to become content with myself

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?I don’t know, I don’t like thinking about the future too much

If you could choose, how would you want to die?Any way would be a good way

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.I would only force the micino to stay home and spend the last 24 hours with him

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?I don’t want to be remembered

What three words best describe your personality?Fucked, annoying, lame

What three words would others probably use to describe you?Fucked, annoying, lame

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…)Yes hello mango you’re a shithead who needs to get his shit together thank you

[myentirelifeismeaningless-blog]

CHAPTER ONE When do you know that you are broken? I mean literally at a point where nothing anyone could do would fix things, would fix... You. I dont know why I am the way I am exactly but I know I have lived a far from normal life. I lost both my parents by the time I was 13. Thats where my story starts. Not because I want to emphasize the impact it had on me emotionally, mentally, or physically but because I honestly dont remember a lot before that time. Have you ever watched a movie while you were half asleep and fell asleep and the next day you remember bits and pieces but cant make sense of it? Well, that was my childhood. I guess I subconsciously blocked out a lot. Anyway... It was February 11th, 3 days before valentines day... I didnt come from a wealthy family so we couldnt always afford to do the fun stuff when it came down to school events and whatever.... This time was different. My mom was a diehard romantic, the kind that read those cheezy novels from the grocery store and the kind that would waltz around the living room with me and tell me how one day I would make someone the luckiest girl in the world. (You get an A for effort mom, not exactly the most accurate statement but it was a nice gesture.) Well, my heart fueled mother convinced my dad to let us get me a tux for the Valentines Day dance. I was excited. That actually doesnt do it justice, I was ecstatic. I had only been to one other dance at that point in my life and it was "5th quarter" some lame ass dance they did every friday after the football games. This one was different. I was in 6th grade, this was the biggest dance of the year for that grade, and Nikki (my first crush) was going, and she didnt have a date! (later she broke my heart by hooking up with one of my friends, moreless right in front of me. But that story is for another time...) Nikki was cute, extremely cute. She had straight blonde hair, was very petite, and was kinda shy. Ive always had a thing for shy girls, the intimacy that comes with them opening up about anything always made me feel sorta important I guess or loved or like I mattered, it made me feel something when I had gotten so used to nothing, ever. I had first period with her though, I wasnt popular or athletic or anything so I was entirely too nervous to say anything to her but I was going to make a move at the dance. I dont remember much about school that day but I remember waving at her in the hall and she gave me an amazing grin and blushed. I was restless with anticipation the rest of the day. My dad was out of town at the time. He drove a truck long distances to support two sisters, my mother, and myself and would been gone for over a week at times. My mom ("Mommy", yea I was a mommys boy) picked me up from school that day. We went home and spoke to my sister Lynsey briefly and then left for preperations, she was 3 years older than me and my family was pretty cool with the amount of trust they put into us so she had the house to her self until we were back. She didnt want to go because it wasnt important to her, I dont remember what she said but it broke my heart that she didnt care about the only real thing I had ever been genuinely interested in on top of the fact that it moreless downplayed my first romantic experience into something undesirable... I am truly grateful that my "little" big sister stayed home. We lived right off the only major higway that ran smack through the middle of the 4 cities in the area, just behind the local radio station, the tux rental shop was about 15 minutes away. My mom had already made arrangements for me to try on several of the more popular styles. (She was almost as excited as me... I may have told her about Nikki) She really was amazing, I was her only son and my Nana had told me about how my mother had wanted a little boy since she was playing with dolls as a girl. (I was her miracle and she dedicated her life to me, ... maybe a bit much as my sisters constantly accused me of being the favorite.) She was very chatty about the night on the ride there, motherly advice with girls and such... I was a bit embarrassed but I actually listened even though I was pretendinding to ignore her the whole time. I had to maintain what little sense of pride I had in at least being cooler than my parents... (Even though they were OG hippies and how TF did I compete with people that were so confident that they could smoke weed and fuck in the middle of a crowd...) She told me to be a gentleman and be nice to all girls but to make the obe I was interested in the center of my focus but not be so focused that I make her feel as if she was being watched. She explained that it was a difficult thing to master but she had confidence I was capable. She gave me a lot of other tips but my mind wandered as I stared out the window, my ruse was phasing to reality because adrenaline was kicking in more and more as the time passed. I eventually wasnt listening. This is the first time I have ever told anyone about this specific memory, it was kinda a personal keepsake but whats the point anymore... The last words I ever heard my mother actually speak in person were "Are you excited baby boy? I love seeing you like this!". Baby Boy was my mothers secret nickname for me. I didn't like being called a baby because I was the youngest and I was often excluded from things due to my age. She told me in confidence that being the youngest was a blessing because it meant that everyone else was there to teach me how to make things better than it was for them and that I would always be her baby boy. I still got mad when anyone else even mentioned the word baby in reference to me. It happened fast. It actually took me years to remember bits and pieces... Loud crunching noises. Grass. Mud. Bright lights and screeching. A large patch of grey leather. Red. A lot of red. Black. A man? Angel? Demon? "You're gonne be ok, we are going on a little ride. Have you ever flown before?" I couldnt speak. I could barely breathe. More black. I was unconscious for almost 2 months. We had been in an accident and as you have likely gathered my mom didnt make it. Someone had pulled out in front of us and in an attempt to avoid the accident she swerved to the left lane but there was another driver at the back left corner of our vehicle in her blind spot. She clipped them and it caused us to drive directly into the median. It was a large ditch. My beautiful, amazing, nothing to give but love mother died instantly on impact and I was crushed and mangled into a pile of broken bones and flesh. They told me I was "lucky". I did not feel lucky. I never have. It was another month after I woke up from the coma before they even told me anything. I was in intensive care, on more drugs than should ever be given to an 11 year old child, concussed, and had just been in a coma for weeks but I vividly remembering asking "Wheres Mommy?" when I woke up. My Dad had to leave the room and I didnt understand why at the time. I thought he didnt want to see me because I was damaged. I think this was the first time I ever actually felt lonely. The next week was a lot of laying in bed constantly being told not to move much and being fed morphine intravenously on the hour. Sometimes it would make me sleep, sometimes it would numb me a little but I still hurt a lot but my Dad stayed by my bed the entire time day and night and the "man" in me kept quiet to show him how tough I was. I hadnt been able to spend this much time with my dad in years. I loved it as much as I hated it. It was nearly a month before they told me about my Mom, after I was moved out of the ICU. I remember when my dad told me. He had someone stand outside and not let anyone in under any circumstance. I thought his instructions were odd but I still didnt understand. I screamed. It was a mixture of crying and screaming and sobbing. When my dad let me know about the accident and my mothers fate I thought I would literally die from the emotional pain. I had never had an emptiness like this before and it was devastating. My balance was thrown off. I actually felt like I was falling. My dad had to call in a nurse because I went into a panic attack, I suppose this is why they had kept it from me for so long. I didnt care what their reason was. I had been betrayed and lied to every day, every time I asked, every time I begged to see my mommy... This was the first time I remember feeling resentment, and it was towards the people I loved. Let me be clear, I understand their reasoning but look at things from the perspective of an 11 year old boy that had almost no friends except his mom. I was hurt by the ones closest to me. How do you live with that as one of your earliest memories? My new temporary home, Huntsville Childrens Hospital. The most polite hell one could ever ask for. Nearly a full year of pretending to be happy to see someone every time they came to remind me that I would never see my best friend, my mother again. A year of getting cut on, turned into a cyborg(I mean technically they screwed metal onto my body, so yeah... ), and various types of physical therapy before getting to go "home" (Im not sure if I can ever be at home again, not then not ever...). For real, I had to learn to walk again, more on that later though. In an instant and the few short months that followed my life was changed forever and I was thrown into experiences and emotions that no person should ever have to face. But I faced them, I had determination that was picked up off the old man but I had something else that few will understand. For those that do I am truly sorry, for whatever tragedy has befallen you it altered the very base foundation of your structure or so to speak it changed you completely and the person you were before is gone. Im talking about that trapped feeling like you are being held hostage by the world. You wake up, participate, dredge through life with no purpose, and prepare yourself to do the same again the next day. Because you have to. This feeling controls you and turns you into its slave. Everything loses meaning including relationships. I survived by dying. To be continued...