#Nobody understands. My pain is literally. Not joking. Constant. Every second of every day I am hurting.

[aftermathing]

How to find will to live and purpose in life when chronic pain is destroying your body and mind.

[tigerplushh]

I know we all make jokes about depression but shit bro. It’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s literally like..??? I need to rant rn

(This is my rant about my personal experience with depression, I don’t speak for everyone with depression or anything like that. This is simply my experience) TW FOR MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SH, AND SUICIDE.

I was in a depressive episode earlier this year. From around December 2022 to may 2023. And Jesus Christ, bro.

Everything felt cold. I don’t know how else to describe it- very legitimately, it’s how people describe it to you. But it’s so different and real when you experience it first hand. Maybe it was because it was winter, but it all felt so cold and lonely. It very literally feels like you’re disconnected from everything, as in I feel like I wasn’t present for most of it. Like I was watching through a sort of screen in my head and acting based on what I know to be right, acting impulsively on second nature rather than thinking things out, being aware of my surroundings or what I was doing. Walking to places, listening to music, I wasn’t THERE. The only moments I ever felt aware of where I was or what I felt was when I had breakdowns, from arguments with my dad to when I self harmed, to when I had to scream and beg not to go into school. I remember sobbing on my bedroom floor, slits all over my arms, just begging to feel better. Literally desperately clawing and praying for any god that might possibly exist to make me genuinely happy, to make things go back to normal again. Honestly it feels distant when others describe it to you. When people talk to you about depression and etc, it’s completely normal to just say “I’m sorry you had to go through that” or something similar, something along those lines.

But when you actually experience it, it feels so personal. It feels like it’s you entirely, like there is no getting better: like everyone and everything is doomed and that you’ll never be happy again. Ofcourse, this isn’t true, but it’s what it FEELS like. And the physical affects of it?? I lost a lot of sleep because of breakdowns, and didn’t take good care of myself: went days without showering, eating, brushing my teeth or changing my clothes. It was constant fatigue, tiredness, this ache of pain and tiredness in my chest. I was very literally rotting away in my room. Every morning when I woke up, when I was supposed to go to school, my mum had an alarm with a particular noise set. Whenever I hear that alarm now, there’s a sort of ache of panic in my chest. Very reminiscent to the panic and overwhelming sadness I felt when I woke up every morning, knowing I would have to push on ANOTHER day with this aching feeling. It’s even worse when it seems that nobody understands: genuinely, if you have a friend who has experienced depression or is experiencing it, my only advice is listen. I wasn’t listened to, people didn’t understand how I was feeling and dismissed it as “hormones” or just “bad days”, but it was one of the lowest points in my life I think I’ve ever experienced. I don’t think I can genuinely convey or express how I would rather be thrown into a cage with a hungry lion than ever experience that again.

[twc-thoughts-you-didnt-ask-for]

Omg you’re back. Not me crying tears of joy 🤧.

Can you PLEASE do the ROs ushering a pregnant MC around to meetings in the warehouse, navigating the reactions of other members of UB as well as other supernaturals.

Bonus: ROs ushering around a baby version of themselves, navigating the reactions of the MC,UB, and other supernaturals.

Omg y’all are so nice about me reappearing from the abyss 🥺🥺🥺

I will warn you that I don’t think other UB members would have any special reactions worth noting. Some things would get a joke made at the parent and others would just be overwhelming happiness at their friends’ growing family and now a growing UB. I also couldn’t do the bonus because we know so little about UB as kids.

For A I imagine them behaving the way a caretaker would. Arms linked or around the waist (or as around the waist as they can get) or warnings of “Watch your step here” just on the off chance that the detective my slip or trip. A would probably worry about that a lot less if they didn’t sit there and daydream nightmares of something happening to the detective and their child during their free time, but A can’t help but worry. I don’t think A would register any reactions of the other agents or supernaturals, to be honest. I think they would be so wrapped up in clocking every single potential risk to the detective and the baby that they wouldn’t spare a glance at anyone else. As for the agents reactions… I think out of all of UB they would be most charmed by parent-to-be A. It would really just look like a very in love couple with A being a very doting significant other. Also it would be hard for them to maintain the image of a big, authoritarian, tough A when the see an emotional/hormonal detective and A’s hands caressing their cheeks and wiping away tears as they came and comforting them that the day is almost over and then A will take care of the detective’s aching feet and any cravings. Almost jarring, even.

I think N would helicopter more than they already do. Like way more. Like if there’s stairs to get where they need to go, I feel like N would be like “Well, I just don’t understand why they couldn’t just make this a ramp instead” as an example of how extra they would be. I can’t see N isolating the detective (like not letting random people within “x” amount of feet of the detective) but I can see them pulling A LOT of strings when they have something to do or go anywhere especially on days that the detective feels achy or icky. Morning sickness? No worries, N is about the pull the most charming, persuasive smile out of their ass to get the meeting postponed or convince them that detective is not needed and N can happily pass the info along. N would also probably be really hesitant about leaving for missions or anything that took them out of hearing range of the detective. A would swoop in and be the voice of reason, thank god. N could pacified too if they went away and the detective texted them baby updates about kicks and stuff. As for fellow agents and supernaturals reactions… I think there would be some envy of actually seeing two people so happy, content, and in love and I think it would be maybe even inspiring to them to see N, a supernatural who has lived a very long time, have the look and air about them as someone who got literally everything they wanted in this eternal life. It’s hard to have an even higher opinion of someone everyone considers “perfect”

I feel like M’s behavior would have very little change. Any drastic changes would have been early on because, as we know from Sera’s blog, M didn’t necessarily plan on kids or want them. If the detective is far enough along where the weight of the pregnancy is getting to them and they waddle around and ache, I think M would have them stop often and take a seat where chairs are available and massage aches and pains as they come throughout the day. Doesn’t matter what they were going to. I can just imagine M getting a call about why they’re late to a meeting and M just being like “We’ll get there when we get there” and hanging up lol. We don’t know how good M will get at being comforting, all we know as of know if that they’re trying, so if the detective starts getting emotional, I can see M sliding their hand in the detective’s and giving a light squeeze, M pulling the detective in as much as they can (depending on belly size) for a smooch on the top of the head and just holding them, or finding a spot to sit and pulling the detective into their lap and holding them that way. All of this would be accompanied with a “What’s eating at you today?” And a prompt “what can I do to help?” Or “what can I do to make it better?”. At this point I really don’t think other agency members or supernaturals would have much to say. The shock of M no longer just lusting and actually being in very real, once-in-a-lifetime love would have long passed. Maybe the only reaction anyone at this point has is “I’m happy for M”

F’s happiness and excitement cannot be contained for anything. Nobody even can be annoyed (except for maybe the detective sometimes) because it feels impossible to rain on F’s parade. Or even threaten a drizzle. F and a pregnant detective walking around together would have to stop and talk to anybody who so much as looked at them. F would also very much be the “We” person when it comes to expecting parents that aren’t the ones carrying the baby. “WE’RE pregnant”, “WE’RE eating for three now”, etc. F would just be an excitable force to be reckoned with. I also like to imagine F frequently interrupting meetings because the baby kicked. F will be in a near constant state of having their hand on the detective’s belly, either on its own or resting over the detective’s, and the second they feel a kick (regardless of who is speaking in the meeting or what it’s about) F will laugh and lean down to the detective’s belly and saying something along the lines of “hey, don’t kick the one who feeds you”. Similarly to M, I don’t think anyone would have many opinions. This is F as they know them, just a little more amplified.

[angelthebedsheet]

“unprepared”

midoriya izuku x reader

x gender neutral reader

a/n: needed the creative juices to get flowing so i can try my best to update. been in love with genshin. kaeya and lisa i am in love with you. your quirk is not specified!! 

q/n = quirk name

contains kissing, whole lotta fluff shit, emotions, loving midoriya hour!!!

—————————-—————————————————

There were many things Izuku was and unprepared was rarely one of them. He was always at least 3 steps ahead. That is until he got with you.

He was unprepared from the first day he met you. Starry eyes gazing upon your curly hair and s/c skin that looked more vibrant under the sun. He was unprepared to even hear your lips part to utter an introduction to him. To hear you greet him every morning or chirp his name through the phone. He was even more unprepared to fall in love with you.

He was unprepared for you to become his significant other. Someone who’s supposed to love and care for him and was unprepared when you genuinely wanted to be him. He wouldn’t lie about it. He isn’t the most confident person you can meet. The years of bullying he faced ever since Bakugo manifested a quirk and he didn’t make his confidence take massive blows. Bakugo’s quirk included. He was surprised when you were so adamant on hyping him up every second you could and the fact you didn’t let him become self-deprecating.

“I-It wasn’t that great, Y/N. I’ve done better and I feel like I’ve failed others like usual.” Midoriya stuttered as he looked at his scarred hands. The same hands that were once smooth were covered in what he called his mistakes. You gently grabbed his chin and tilted his head up so you could see his emerald eyes that always had that child-like glimmer of wonder and curiosity in them. “All that matters is that you did your best in the current moment. As a hero, you aren’t always going to be able to do things how you wish you could. The only thing that makes is if you put as much effort and passion into this. Don’t belittle your efforts, Izu. You amaze everyone. Me included. You try your best to handle these battles even though you’re still learning how to control your quirk.” You said softly as you looked into his eyes. You moved your hand to gently hold his cheek. You watched as his eyes glossed over, bottom lip slightly quivering. He leaned into your touch as he gently held your wrist.

“That’s admirable, Izuku. You win some and lose some. Just know I’ll always be here you be your little cheerleader. Know that there’s always going to be someone out there who’s proud of you no matter what you do.” You said, wiping a stray tear from his cheek with your thumb and pressing a kiss to his forehead

He truly wasn’t prepared for your constant gestures of love and affection. From the surprise teasing kisses.

You tapped his shoulder. Midoriya hummed and looked up from his homework to be met with your lips pressed against his. He slightly gasped before his eyes fluttered close, face heating up. Just as he was about to cup your cheek, you pulled away, causing him to slightly huff from the lost of contact. “What was that for?” He mumbled with a furrowed pout. You cheekily smiled before patting his cheek. “Just because.” You said, turning back to look down at your worksheet. Purposely ignoring the slight pout on Midoriya’s face before he quickly huffed, now distracted from his homework.

To the meaningful kisses during late nights where you would just let him rant while you helped combed out the daily tangles from his curly hair.

“And it’s just hard with all this stress on me.” He mumbled, wincing at the feeling of you combing out his tangled ends. “Sorry Zuzu— But I understand. Well, not how you exactly feel but I understand what you mean.” You said, softly as you sprayed some leave in conditioner in his hair. “No, no, I get it. I just wish I didn’t have all this pressure on me sometimes. But it’s mandatory especially with All Might trusting me, so I’ll just have to work harder.” Midoriya said, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Anht. Izuku, you deserve a break.” You said. He turned to look back at you as if you had just told him, you didn’t really like All Might. (Although, that statement was true you would never tell him that. It’s a secret you’d take to the grave. You had a small personal vendetta against the abnormally sickly tall man that could barely last a couple minutes without hacking up blood into a handkerchief.)

“Take a break? B-But I can—“

“Says who? Yeah you may be in the hero course, have a powerful quirk, and All Might of all people being your mentor. But, you still need a break. We’re all teens. We need to have fun and let loose.”

“I....”

“So after this I’m twisting your hair up, putting on your bonnet, and we’re gonna have a free day tomorrow.”

“Baby I appreciate it but—“ You cut him off. “I never said this was an offer. We’re doing it. Tomorrow’s Saturday and you need the break more than anyone. You always push yourself past your limits and go above and beyond. As a hero, you can’t always work to make sure everyone’s safe but yourself. You need to be selfish and here’s one of the times.” You said, cupping his cheek. His bottom lip quivered as he quickly sat up on his knees to press a kiss against your plush lips. He held onto your knees to push the kiss deeper. You only dropped the comb and slid your arms around his neck. He smiled against your lips and stood up. You pulled him down on the bed and lightly chuckled. He smiled wider and rested his forehead against yours, ignoring the tears that pricked his eyes from how loved he felt.

He was unprepared when you leaped into battle immediately, taking a hit that was meant for him. 

Your eyes widened as you looked over at Izuku who was currently giving his all, using OFA against a villain. You ran as fast as you could, determined to protect him as you noticed something he didn’t. The villain had an extra move up their sleeve that would be a painful hit on Izuku. It would take longer for him to heal in the current vulnerable state he was already in. He didn’t deserve to be the main target majority of the time he was just trying to get an education. Everyone else were already working hard to take down the remaining villains and you’d be damned if you let Izuku end up in the hospital again. Activating q/n, using it to your advantage, you propelled yourself to yank an unsuspecting Izuku out of the way. Two different yelps were let out. 

Your yelp of pain as the villain’s powered up fist collided against your side, sending you tumbling back and Izuku’s yelp of surprise as he had stumbled back from the force you have previously used to pull him back. He quickly snapped out his confused state to make a mad dash towards your body that was hunched over, cradling your side. He slid on his knees, not caring if he scuffed them up, and gently held you. “Baby. Baby, hey hey, open your eyes.” He exclaimed, panicked. You winced as you pried one eye open. “’zuku?” You grunted out. “W-We’re- I’m gonna move you out of here.” He said as he gently scooped you up in his arms. “B-But you have to fig-” You were interrupted by his stern voice. “You’re more important!” He exclaimed before running off, using OFA to make himself quicker. 

The quick and short trip to your safety went by in a blur as you faded in and out due to the immense pain you felt in your side. You were soon laid down against something firm. You didn’t bother to even look as it hurt to voice any snarky comebacks you had. “L-Let me see.” Izuku voiced out, shakily. “Huh?” You winced. “Let me see how bad it is. May I?” He said, not even looking anywhere but your side. You only nodded as you felt his rough hands delicately remove your hero suit as if he was unboxing a glass figurine. His breath hitched as he looked at the blooming bruise on your side that was almost too painful for him to look at. “W-Why would you take that hit for me?” He whimpered as he lightly grazed his gloved fingers across the bruise so lightly it was like he never even touched it in the first place.

 “Because I hate how much you go to the hospital-” You hissed as you slowly adjusted yourself. “-just for using your quirk so much. If you had taken that hit, it would’ve much worse for you. You didn’t even notice that move before I stepped in. I want to protect you as much as you protect me.” You mumbled. Izuku’s casted a shadow over his eyes as he let your words soak in. You watched as green lightning crackled around him. “I’ll get someone to watch you. I’m gonna go get that villain.” He said as he leaned in to press a kiss upon your lips. You kissed back as much as the pain in your side let you. He pulled back and you caressed his cheek. “Give em hell, Zuku. Go beat their ass for me.” You said before he nodded and ran off. He was filled with rage as he ran back into the field. He was a man on a mission and nobody was get in his way. Unless, they wanted to catch his fists. Literally.

He was unprepared for the stupid little things you’d whisper late at night just to get an amusing reaction out of him. 

“You know, All Might’s kinda hot.” You whispered, earning a bewildered snort from Izuku. “I’m sorry, what?” He whisper shouted as he shot up to look at you. You snickered behind your hand as you slowly sat up. “I’m joking, Zu!” You giggled out. He groaned and grabbed a pillow to gently hit you in the face with. “That’s gross!” He whined. “What you telling me you never went on Wattpad and searched up All Might x Readers?” You whispered, deadpanned. Izuku went silent as he looked away. “Wait you deadass?” You exclaimed. He shushed you as he wacked you in the face with the pillow. You started laughing as he whisper shouted. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He repeated as he kept hitting you with the pillow. 

But, he was fully prepared to love you unconditionally.

He kneeled down, opening a small black box, revealing the ring you always stared at with sparkling eyes. “Will you marry me?” He said as he looked up at you with watery eyes.

[maxbegone]

Schitt’s Creek Fic Recs

In lieu of everything upturned and crazy in the world right now, I wanted to go ahead and share some of my favorite sc fics! You can see them all below the cut! 

Warning: There is a lot! 

He Sees You by Distractivate

summary: Patrick gets glasses and thinks about identity. David helps.

why you should read it: It’s a little fic about Patrick getting glasses but it’s more than that, really. It’s about Patrick finding himself, and it’s about David loving him through it. It’s sweet, futurefic, and husbands! 

my heart was broke, my head was sore by blueink3

summary: the morning after Grad Night goes somewhat differently when Patrick gets a call from home.

why you should read it: This was the first fic I read since coming into this fandom. I’m not usually one to delve into anything that diverges too much from canon, but this was just too sweet. I’ve come back to it so many times. And as with anything, Marcy Brewer is an absolute blessing. 

they paved paradise by blueink3

summary: Patrick wakes up five years in the past. He reacts accordingly.

why you should read it: I don’t usually jump to read magical realism or even AUs, but this just hit it out of the park. What truly makes it is Marcy and Clint’s unwavering support for Patrick despite the situation. It’s good to know that’s a constant in every timeline. 

Cleanser by @cypress-tree

summary: David teaches Patrick about skincare (David teaches Patrick about a lot of things).

why you should read it: This fic right here is the definition of self care! Put on a face mask! Do your skincare regimen! Make some tea! Put on a cozy bathrobe and read this fic that is literally balm to the soul! (If I told you that I wore a facemask while reading this, would you believe me?)

You Could Be The One by bigficenergy

summary: David has big feelings about Patrick, and he's listening to a lot of Carly Rae Jepsen about it.

why you should read it: I’m not a fan of CRJ, but that didn’t stop me from reading this. I’m usually a sucker for oneshots, I don’t love chaptered or even longer fics. All of David and Patrick’s big moments paired with a bunch of Carly Rae Jepsen lyrics make for a cute little story that delves into missing scenes. Chapter 6 is by far my favorite in the entire fic. Boyfriends! In! Suits! And they’re both breathtaking! 

This Will Be Our Year: An Epistolary Peek by MeadowHarvest

summary: A random sampling of text message images from the year after the finale.

why you should read it: It’s a texting fic! What more could you ask for? But seriously, you need to read it! It’s full of funny insights and there’s a goose in an American flag dress that will make sense I promise you. It’s a running joke. 

No Matter What by my_middle_name_is_awkward

summary: The Soulmate AU where everything is the same except everyone has a soulmate and you can feel your soulmate’s physical pain.

why you should read it: I was a total sucker for soulmate AUs for a very long time. I said earlier that I don’t love AUs - this category is an exception. Really it’s David and Patrick falling in love like they always do, but this time they’re soulmates. They’re also big dummies who miss every single clue that tells them they are soulmates. @stuck-on-your-heart had it in her ficrec bingo earlier tonight so I immediately read it and said, “This needs to be shared with more people.” 

Exposed Brick by swat177

summary: Three years down the line, Rose Apothecary opens a holiday pop-up shop in Brooklyn. David and Patrick head to the ~city that never sleeps~ to set up and run the store. Patrick thinks David

why you should read it: My New Yorker heart is nostalgic for the city she can’t visit or live in right now. There are so many things referenced in this fic that just brightened my day. Patrick dealing with his insecurities about not being enough for David and about how he fears David still wants to move to New York is so well-written. 

Dear Jurisprudence by Likerealpeopledo

summary: They’ve never talked about Ray this much in bed before. David doesn’t think he likes it.

why you should read it: The summary doesn’t do it justice. I’m a total sucker for soft, tender, domestic fics. Patrick wants to go back to school, David supports him like the wonderful husband he is. Just read it - it’s so tender.

give me one good movie kiss and I’ll be alright by imbrokelyn99

summary: It's pouring rain and David is dancing around the store and lip-syncing to "Nobody" by Mitski. Patrick loves him so, so much.

why you should read it: Um, Mitski. What else could win you over? They kiss in the rain because it’s cute as hell! 

Let it Snow by @princess-tiger-lily

summary: In an alternate universe, Patrick never takes David out for his birthday. Now it's Christmas and his feelings for David have only grown. It's lonely at Christmas when you can't have the man you love.

why you should read it: There’s a coziness about this, and it’s probably all of the snow and the title. But really, it’s Patrick seeing how the snow falls on David and his, “God, you’re so beautiful.” that won me over with this fic.

Morning, Love by Point_of_no_return

summary: “Will you lay with me? Cuddle for a minute?” “David, I have to get to work.” “I know, just a minute, please?”

why you should read it: I don’t think I really need to sell a cutesy cuddling fic, but please know that you won’t understand how sweet this is until you read it. Plus, we already knew that David was clingy in bed. 

no matter what the storybooks say by wardo_wedidit

summary: five times Patrick reads a book of David’s, and one they read together.

why you should read it: The whole idea of David and Patrick reading together makes my bibliophile heart swell with happiness. It’s strangely so intimate and oh so comforting to read. 

Is this what marriage is? by @startswithhope​ 

summary: David and Patrick finally get back to their apartment the morning after their wedding.

why you should read it: I definitely do not need to sell you on any of Dee’s work at this point. We get to see a little glimpse of David and Patrick after the wedding festivities subside and the exhaustion hits. I’m getting cavities just from thinking about how sweet it is!

those days by blueink3

summary: Because, every once in a while, David cannot get out of bed. If pressed to explain why, he can’t. It’s a melancholia that has no trigger, no warning, no reason. It doesn’t need one.

why you should read it: On a bit of a serious note, please take a second to read this. I relate to every last fucking word in this fic. I can feel the exhaustion of that kind of day in my bones as I read it, but it never ceases to amaze me how that summary alone matches how I feel on a bad day. This whole fic is gentle, yet it hits home. Please read it. 

How Easy Is That? by this_is_not_nothing

summary: He walks over to the table, pulling everything out of the bag. “I was actually thinking I could just make us a pasta with these,” he says, gesturing with the mushrooms. “If that’s ok with you?” He didn’t mean for it to be a question.

why you should read it: Super domestic (give me all of it!) evening of David cooking dinner for Patrick. Wine, a hot stove, a hotter boyfriend, this whole thing makes me want to cook, play some soothing music, and have a night for myself.

[sweetfierceimagines]

If tear drops could be bottled

Request by @shadow-hunter-lover , thank you so much for it ! 

/ Soft Billy x reader in which the reader struggles with depression and he helps her through it. First time I write about this kind of topic so I hope you’ll like it ! English is not my mother tongue so sorry for the possible mistakes, I don’t mind at all if some of you want to tell me were I screwed up ahah, I'll correct it ! 

Warnings / None, I was requested “so much fluff that people get nosebleeds, so you’ll tell me about that ;) Extra long, hope you don’t mind ! I was asked for fluff and one shot, but I'd be down to write a second part ! Tell me if you’re interested !! 

* 

Y/N’s POV : 

It was one of these days. 

Everything seemed fine, Y/N had nothing to really complain about in her life. She had friends, she had loving parents, she had a house, food, education, future, yet nothing seemed to function harmoniously. She would pretend everything’s ok, she would smile and laugh with her people, she would eat a bit not to raise attention, she would wait until she’s alone to break down, and make sure no one can hear her cry. 

On these days, she was sad about everything, but mostly, she was mad at herself for not being able to be happy with what she had. So her rule number one was to always keep her head up and let no one worry about her. It was working well right? 

Or maybe not. 

Most people saw nothing. Yes, her friends from Hawkins high told her she should come more often to their parties, some were wondering silently why she was rushing home after class, but no one came at her place to make sure she was ok. Her parents though she was just being a teenager/early adult struggling with whatever a normal person struggles with at this age, and thought she would come and talk to them if she had something going on, smart. 

This rule made her feel safe in her pain, but it was putting her in a never ending circle. She felt like no one cared about her well being, that no one wanted her to be really, truly happy. That if she left this place tomorrow, they would barely notice. 

So every night she would come back home, rush to her room, lock it and despair, lying on her bed. Sometime she would cry, other times she would just lay here feeling numb, like a darkness was swallowing her a bit more each time. And she felt like she wasn’t strong enough to fight it. 

BILLY’s POV : 

Smoking, driving fast, lifting weight, flirting, repeat. Gosh that loop sure felt good, when half Hawkins wanted to sleep with him, and the other half somehow hated-admired him. He was feeling like the strongest man on hearth as soon as he was leaving this house where he was just the shadow of himself. And once again, he arrived in the parking lot of Hawkins high way too fast, almost smashed the Camaro in a tree, and got out of the car with that James Dean look he knew was scoring each time. Walking his way to the entrance, he noticed the usual little gathering that was annoying him each time : Steve f*cking Harrington, Nancy and Jonathan were talking with the kids, including Max. This parody of a sister he had kept on reminding him how poorly he was loved, but still he cared for her. He just couldn’t admit it. He went closer to the group and made sure he was noticed by throwing his cigarette on the ground, almost burning Nancy’s feet. He was about to yell at Max for hanging out with them when he just noticed someone else. She was surely with them, part of that circle, yet she didn’t look like she was into it at all. She was looking around, her Y/E/C eyes scanning the whereabouts with a sad expression. It was almost impossible to see, as she was keeping on a straight face and a smile, but he knew that look very well. He knew it was the look of loneliness and of self doubt. A look he was keeping away by playing the bad kid, yet a look that always went right to his heart. He didn’t realize he was staring, silent, until Steve taped on his shoulder. 

- Hey. Billy. If you’re here to play the dick go on, we’re used to it. But make it quick, we have a basketball match in twenty minutes you remember that? 

He didn’t even answer, throwing a dark look to Steve. He was about to leave when Y/N turned her attention to the group, and he made sure this eye contact happened. She furrowed her eyebrows, not so sure of why he was being so insistant and, frankly, awkward as hell, but she didn’t move. Eventually Billy left, almost running to the basketball court, his heart pounding like crazy. 

Y/N’s POV : 

It was not really an important game, but since Steve and Billy started to play against each other there was always more people coming, and you could feel a constant tension going on. As Steve’s friend, you came to the games when you could, even though sports really didn’t make you go wild. You were sitting on a bench, joking around with Steve to help his anxiety, when Billy entered the room. He was shirtless, for once didn’t smoke, and looked like he literally put oil on his body. You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing silently at how cliché that boy was, but unconsciously bit your bottom lips, scanning his body. 

- Oh my god Y/N, not YOU ! 

Steve yelled a bit too loud. Billy turned his attention to you, and winked. You just stared for a bit and then shook your head. The match began and you just sat down looking absently at the game. You were not feeling very well, sort of empty and in the same time quite heavy. At some point you felt tears come to your eyes for no reason, and just waved goodbye at Steve. He could honestly not care less, as he was focusing on how to no get completely fucked up by Billy. 

BILLY’S POV : 

But Billy noticed. He stopped for a second, looking at you leaving and all of a sudden, he pushed past Steve and left the court. Everyone was shouting at him, some were booing him and calling him names, but he just nicely raised his middle finger to the crowd and went directly to his bag. He grabbed it, and walked fast to the parking lot while trying to put on his shirt. Halfway through it he yelled at Y/N. 

- Hey ! Hey ! Stop will you? 

Y/N turned to face him, wondering what the hell made him leave a game he was clearly enjoying winning, to run half shirtless to her. 

- Huum.. Can I help you?  

- Yes. Get in the car. 

- What? I don’t know what you think is happening but there’s no way I get.. 

- Get in the car, I'm serious. 

As Y/N just looked at him, not understanding what happened, he took a deep breath and a few seconds to think about saying the right things. The right things. What were these? It had been so long since he didn’t really think about what to say to someone. He took a few steps, standing right in front of Y/N and looking down at her. Strangely, his usual angry eyes were replaced by a sweet look, and Y/N could not lie to herself about how it made her melt down on the spot. 

- Listen, we don’t know each other, and I know I'm probably a messed up problematic nonsense dude to you, and I'm probably. 

The sudden sincerity of the conversation completely shocked her, and frankly, shocked him too. She relaxed, daring to look in her eyes a bit more intensely and laid her back on the car, raising slightly her eyebrows to encourage him to carry on. 

- But I know how to recognize a girl hurting. Or a boy hurting. I mean, anyone really. Not anyone.. aaah what the fuck ! 

- Are you going to offer me some psychology sessions Hargrove? Y/N said with a smile, trying to introduce some fun in that way too heavy atmosphere. Billy laughed a bit and found back his courage, putting a hand next to Y/N’s head, resting on the car. 

- Well, I would gladly offer you any kind of “sessions”, if you know what I mean, but I guess what I really want to say is.. it’s not easy, it’s not ok, but you can get better. And honestly I think you deserve a lot to get better. 

Y/N looked at her feet, feeling tears build up. Nobody told her that. Ever. Nobody showed that they cared about her well being in that way. And even though she barely knew Billy, and his reputation was frankly awful, she knew she could trust him enough to get that vulnerable with him. As she was lost in her thoughts, he gently took his chin with his fingers with his free hand, and made him look in his eyes. 

- Hey.. you don’t have to feel bad alone. What do you say? Will you show a little faith and let me show you the wonders of the Hargrove therapy program? 

As he said this he took a step back and his hands away, leaving some space between them for her to think a bit. He went to the driving seat, sat down and extended his harm to open the passenger door from inside. 

Y/N looked around, searching for a sign to help her make her decision. In one hand, this dude was nothing to be trusted, in the other, she really felt like he could help her, while no one else could. She whispered to herself a “what the hell” and sat down next to Billy, offering her a smile as a confirmation of her choice. He smiled a bit, with that famous corner smile with his tongue slightly liking his bottom lip. He then started to drive, taking the usual road toward his house. 

Y/N’s POV : 

Billy parked the car in front of a small house and got out. She followed, crossing her harms against her chest, as she was always doing when she was anxious. She went into the house and looked around, noticing the workout equipment in the living room, the clearly abusing use of cigarettes, and the lack of affection in all that basic decoration. She looked at him, smiling a bit. 

- You’re anxious. 

He said, just looking at her for long seconds. 

- Sit down, or look around, nothing is really private here. I’ll get you something and we can talk a bit if you feel like it. 

She nodded, going for a little walk in the house. She quickly left Max’s room, not wanting to cross some sort of limit. She looked briefly in the bathroom, noticing some body oil and hair spray proudly standing in front of the mirror. She laughed, thinking that maybe he wasn’t so different from Steve. That hair obsession, damn, what was happening with these Hawkins guys? She then went to Billy’s room. Posters of women in bikini, records, a bit of a mess, that was a typical dude’s room. She sat on the bed, and then laid down, thinking about how he would feel once he was getting sleepy. That was the worst moment for her, when she was getting back home and laid on her bed, ceiling being the reflect of her own emptiness. She heard footsteps and tried to sit down quickly, but failed when she saw Billy coming in the room, holding hot chocolate and snacks in his hands. 

- Already making yourself confortable love? Oh don’t bother, we can stay here if you don’t mind. 

- Yeah, yeah I totally don’t mind. Thanks for the drink, that’s nice. 

Taking the first sip, Y/N smiled a bit. She sat on the bed, her back on the wall, and her legs crossed. Billy gave her a moment, not daring to start the conversation already and lose her trust. He took a few marshmallows, eating while looking at her with a small smile. Why. On. Earth. Was he so nervous? 

- You’re ok? 

- Yes, thank you. That sure feels good, but I'm not sure it’s as nice for you though, I’m not exactly.. great company these days. 

- Don’t be silly, do you see me talking for hours with any of these high schoolers? Na. I don’t care about “great company”. 

He took a little pause, and put a gentle hand on Y/N’s wrist, his large hand covering a great surface, fingers brushing together. 

- And what about these days, hm? What’s going on exactly? 

Y/N took a deep breath, looking at the wall in front of her while thinking about what was indeed going on these days. 

- Truth is, I don’t know.. nothing happened, nothing wrong really happened. My parents are nice to me, they give me the space I need, they trust me.. I have friends, they’re always with me, they throw parties and ask me to hang out.. I'm healthy, I have good grades, I.. I fucking don’t know! And that’s wrong right? How the hell can’t I know? I have everything to be happy with, and I'm still that stupid girl who cries when she comes back home and didn’t genuinely smiled for months. 

Y/N paused, for once feeling more mad than sad. 

- Honestly, I feel like I'm being swallowed by a dark hole, that’s I'm disappearing in it and I'm not even willing to fight it, because who will care hm? Nobody asked me to cut the bullshit, sit down and talk heart to heart. They’re like me. They pretend it’s alright because it’s more confortable for everyone. But if it swallowed me completely tomorrow, they would barely notice. 

Feeling on edge, ready to explode, Y/N stood up and started to walk toward the living room to leave. She still had the cup, half empty now, and felt a thousand emotions crash in her heart at this very moment. She was about to reach the front door when the same strong hand grabbed her wrist and made her stop. She then felt big arms around her tiny self, and she put the glass down on the counter. He didn’t say a thing, yet the little circles he was drawing on her waist and the feeling of his hot breath on her neck was strangely calming.  

For the first time in a very, very long time, she allowed herself to be visibly vulnerable. She abandoned that inner fight she was giving every minute to look ok when she was not, she accepted an outer presence which until now felt dangerous, and she started to cry, silently, and then a bit more. When she felt sobs climbing her throat, she turned to bury herself in his large, warm body, and he tightened his grip, now drawing circles in her back and whispering “it’s ok” to her ear. After what seemed to be ages, she pulled back a little and looked at him. 

- You cried too? 

Y/N said, noticing his glowing eyes and trails of tears on his face as she gently whipped it off with her thumb. 

- Yeah, I did. Guess despite of feeling numb you’re great at making other feel things.. 

- Sorry about that, I didn’t.. 

- Don’t. I told you it’s ok didn’t I? You don’t have to feel sorry, and it’s not a single hug that will confort you fully, even in such exceptional arms. 

He said winking, trying to make her laugh a bit. Y/N smiled and played back. 

- Well, when I talked about the darkness swallowing me I didn’t mean to disappear in these neither! 

She said pointing his arms and winking back. He laughed and took her back in the said arms but quickly this time. He just held her tight for a few seconds and kissed her forehead before pushing back a bit. 

- It’s getting late, I should probably drive you home or people will be concerned. But you can come back anytime hm? And I never minded skipping classes to sit down somewhere and do whatever a lady feels up to ! 

As they were both back in the car, Y/N smiled to herself. Even though it would indeed not “cure her”, he was making this moment a bit easier to understand and go through, and that was better than I had ever been. And as he was ransacking his glove box in search of tissues, nervously putting back a pack of condoms trying to hide them quickly, but failing dramatically, she left out a real laugh, so unusual that a new tear fell down her cheek, for his greater pleasure. 

* 

Part 2? 

I’ve never written fluff, hope it was good enough ! Tell me what you through about it, and thank you again for the support and requests !! Still opened ;) 

[jammyjess]

Hey friends!

I found King Falls AM at a time in my life where I felt scared, hopeless and alone. I didn’t want to be here at all, and I thought for the most part I’d never be happy again. I’m still most of those things, but every day in King Falls makes that a little easier to be okay with. I thought long and hard about what I could manage for this, but most of all, I just wanted to say thank you. So. Here goes.

Thank you for Sammy Stevens, who is my favourite kind of character. He’s sassy and pretty and humble and full of love.Thank you for his cynicism and snark, but also for his ability to push aside his own beliefs and ideas and wants when it matters. Also, for letting him Suplex Grisham, because that was pretty neat! Thank you for the way he relates to the people around him, but especially to Lily. For a character who makes mistakes and actually tries to learn from them - he doesn’t always get it right, but he tries, and that’s so important. He’s made me laugh, he’s made me cry, he’s made me want to scream. I adore his backstory, it means more to me than I can say, but also thank you for the way you handled the events around 75. It was so meaningful. I love him with everything I have, which is why it hurts me to thank you for his pain, which is so unbelievably relatable to my own. For my own hurt that comes out of his mouth. The kind of hurt that transcends circumstances. I was in a dark place before this show, and parts of me are still there, but watching Sammy grow, and change and heal has meant everything to me. It gives me hope for better days. For Sammy, and for me too. Thank you for giving him the courage to stick around, and for giving him hope. Thank you for Benny Arnold. Who I can’t write about coherently without bursting into tears. He’s messy and flawed and just absolutely gorgeous. Seeing him grow through the years has been an absolute joy, but most of all, I love his ability to remain untainted by the horrors he’s been through. He’s still got the same heart, and it’s the best heart there is. I love his passion, his hope, his resilience. His belief in everybody around him. He remains unapologetically himself through everything, and I adore him. He is The Good, and I’m so glad we have him. Noah brings such complexity to him too, and I can listen a thousand times to a single episode and continue to feel all the things. 

Thank you for Emily. For making a strong, intelligent, badass women who’s also soft and desirable and loving. For letting her write her own story and for letting her be more than a prize to be won. She’s so good natured and considerate and thoughtful, and even in her worst moments she never loses that. Every moment she appears is wonderful and Jess KILLS IT every time! I’ve especially enjoyed phase two Emily, as her relationships with other characters become more integral to the story. Thank you for speaking out against the Frickards of the world through her, because it hurts and it’s hard but it’s so important. Using your audience for good means so much. Thank you for the thoughtfulness and care with which you consistently apply to sensitive subjects. For day-to-day happiness, for happy places and for months of quiet kindness without ever being asked. 

Thank you for Jack Wright. For the reminder to choose love (even when it’s hard. Maybe especially when it’s hard.) For the reminder that we’re all worthy of love, in all its forms. The affirmation that nobody corners the market on sadness, but also that we don’t always have to go it alone. That grief is universal, and that’s not always a bad thing. For quiet moments of humanity in the midst of absolute tragedy. For vulnerability, for heartbreak and moving forward together. For forgiveness and acceptance, and humility. 

Thank you for Dwayne Libbydale, who’s a special kind of chaos. I am again lost for words, but I love him, I love him, I love him. 

Thank you for Pete Escobar Ed Edwards Yardboy Myers and his funyuns and disdain and snark (even if me saying I love him means he’ll never listen to this show again.) Thank you for PHENOMENAL journalist Lily Wright, who is an absolute delight! She feels like the personification of grief, loss and trauma, but at the same time so, so real. Her reluctant acceptance of King Falls as home is beautiful, and I hope she gets ALL THE HUGS really soon. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, even if it means alienating the people she loves. Her shaky vulnerability with Sammy, Ben and Emily is so good, and I’m so excited to see where the future of Lily Wright lays. King Falls Chronicles was some KILLER story telling, and Candace was the icing on the cake. The acting chemistry she has with everybody is absolutely on point. I’m so glad we get to keep Lily. That she’s found home. Thank you for #DeputyDead. His unwavering optimism and willingness to see the good in everything and everybody is absolutely wonderful. 

Thank you for Debbie and RoboTim, who I still believe in, despite all evidence pointing to ‘don’t do that.’ Thank you for Maggie Masterson, an Actual Icon. And for our Man’s Man’s Man and his lil Kingsie Bab. For Regan who is a sweetheart and Chet who I hate to love.

Thank you for villains that fill me with white hot rage. Who’s actions are explained, but never excused. For Frickards and Gundersons and ShadowFUCKS and HFB3’s and Leland Hills and Ernies and Grishams. They’re different levels of despicable, and I adore hate them all. 

Thank you for ridiculous caricatures ; the Gwendolyns and the Cynthias and the Jacob Williams. Thank you for SPORTSBALL (CHOP. DAT. WOOD.) and WALL CRABS and GARBAGE BEARS and DANGER NOODLES  and every other ridiculous Benism. 

Thank you for Teareal and serendipity and redrum roses and for the inability to see the word ‘ghost’ and not correcting it to APPARITION. Thank you for Dan & Larry and boy band battles and Doyle’s Conspiracy Cavern and Devon Hamptonframptonshire. For Golden Owl, Finn and Gator Jack and Alvin and every other ridiculously loveable character you’ve created. Some of them barely last longer than an episode, but their chaos will fuel me for a lifetime. 

Thank you for Mary Jensen, who is the mom I wish I had. All moms are champs, but Mary is perfect. Thank you for Betty and Nancy and Loretta and Marigold. All who I expect deserve the praise they’re given. 

Thank you for Herschel and Cecil, who are cranky old bastards and who probably shouldn’t fit together, but they do so effortlessly. The care and compassion they have for each other is inspiring, and I too hope to have a friend like that someday. Trent is wickedly skilled, and I’m sure he hears it so often but!!!! 

Thank you for BE WELL BUDDIES and silly puns in the titles, and short jokes and RoboTim mixups and Science Institute break-ins with vigilante superheroes and mysterious callers. Thank you for love through overnight oats and moustache talk and non-binary pals. For a willingness to grow and change and learn and laugh. For the electrolocaust and my favourite threesome and for sammiversarys. For Ben posting Sammy’s bail, and heart-to-hearts in jail cells. For stupid bets and bensplosions and the fucking kickball story. For creepy dreams and technical terms, for badly timed BEEPS for awkward flirting and on-air confessions. For idiots who can’t keep secrets, let alone not talk about them on air for more than five minutes. For missing hikers and weird shadow tornados and notebooks and shooting down UFOs and death by damnation. For the SECOND BEST small town in American Celebration, for Christmas Gifts for Ben’s Mom and Jupiter Jaundice. For Ben’s monopoly tactics and Sammy’s audible eye rolls, for prophecies and ‘legend-has-it’s and for love and love and love.

Thank you for the mysteries, and for the constant need for MORE. You do cliffhangers so wonderfully, and I feel like I’ve never anticipated anything so keenly in my life. Tim Jensen, The Dark, Merv, Death by Damnation, The Rainbow Lights, The Zombies. 

Thank you for Cameron Chambers??? How does he do it?? I have no idea, but I hope he keeps doing it. Especially all them Christmas BOPS. Legendary. Jazz-Hands worthy! 

Thank you for making Zombies the F- plot. 

Thank you for the Eagle Screech in the DALE’S DOLLAR TREE ad. And all the other ads too, I guess. I don’t understand The Fucky List, but thanks for that too! Thank you for JACK IN THE BOX JESUS which has caused my internet to constantly recommend me eat at Jack in the Box, despite the closest one being literal continents away.

Thank you for continuing to choose this. For being open to sharing so much of yourselves with us. Thank you for fan interactions and live listens, Q&As and twitter replies and twitch streams and retweets and Beyond the Falls. Thank you for the love and care you show us all, which above all feels genuine. 

Thank you for being the catalyst for a community where I finally feel like I belong. Like I’m important. Like I matter. Thank you for being the reason for hours and days and weeks and months of in-jokes and teasing and theories and head canons and screaming and food talk and love. For so much kindness. And acceptance. For a space to be myself without fear. For people I feel like I’ve known lifetimes, and for whom I hope I can love for lifetimes more. For people to cheer on, and cry with, and poke fun at. For stupid nickname changes, and memes and words in reactions. For making me feel like i’m part of something much bigger than me. For a place to be passionate without judgement. For a place to just be. For friends. For family.

Thank you for the push I’ve needed to create again. And for all the others you’ve inspired too. 

Every moment inside King Falls have been an absolute blessing, but the impact it’s had on my life outside of it is absolutely everything.

Congratulations on (almost) 100 episodes. What an adventure it’s been. I’m so excited for everything the future of King Falls holds, but most of all; Thank you for making this fuckin’ mean something.

[void-official]

“Micro-identities/’Mogai/ya’ll literally just be making shit up now” OK. i’m sorry im stuck on this and this is the last i’ll talk about it today bc fuck it. I’m gonna be Real for a second. And it’s going to be awkward, and it’s going to be long, and I’m gonna Lose Follower bc defending micro-labels is Cringe. Whatever. I get it. go ahead and unfollow. The rest of you who actually care. and in the spirit of Pride Month, as someone who feels like they’re almost never allowed to express Pride in who I am? Here we go.

I’m bi. Most of you can probably tell, im not exactly subtle about it.

I’m bi. But

my actual interest in dating or having sex with Anyone has been pretty much negligible for my entire life. I just don’t Care. I never have. Dating and sex seem like a hassle to me and I don’t feel like i’m particularly missing out by not taking part in them. It doesn’t negate my enjoyment of peoples bodies necessarily, nor does it mean I never get crushes on people it just means at the end of the day, my desire to go out there and find people to have sex with and/or date has always been like. really really low. Even if the opportunity was there. And i’ve come to terms with this. I accept this about myself.

There is actually a great deal of overlap between bi and ace identity. all those ‘weird little terms’ like ‘demisexual’ you guys hate so much were originally created for people like me, who feel like they are fundamentally not allowed to call themselves something straightforward like ‘bi’ (or straight/gay/lesbian) without people inevitably screaming at them for Doing It Wrong. So they can describe how they feel in a brief word, instead of having to go through the pains of explaining the complex relationship they have with sexual attraction to every fucking person who asks what their sexuality is.

saying ‘well you should just be able to say bi and leave it at that’ doesn’t actually account for the experiences i have when i Just Say i’m Bi. Even me Just Saying ‘im bi’ i’ve always gotta deal with harassment from people whoget weirdly agressive about -why- i’m not out there fucking or dating the people i claim im attracted to. Am I a prude? a Tease? Just an ‘Acey’ lying for brownie points? Am I Actually Just Traumatized? (They ask in a really aggressive condescending way, like thats actually how you should talk to someone you think is potentially traumatized) But by the standards of this discourse, i’m not allowed to call myself ace either, because then people are going to yell at me that if I experience the tiniest smidgen of sexual attraction or romantic inclination sometimes, or post pictures of sexy video game characters, clearly i cant be that either  I literally can’t win. there is not a thing I can call myself that won’t earn me the ire of LGBT people on tumblr who think they know me and what i should call myself better than I do. And believe me i hate talking about this More than you do. I’d rather just shut up and let people Assume i’m whatever they want me to be sometimes but then mutuals i thought i trusted will inevitably openly make fun of the people who outwardly call themselves demisexual or whatever microlabel is trendy to shit on currently, and usually i bite my tongue cause at the end of the day its Just Words, right? I don’t even use that word, right? Its just words and some words can be interchangeable and not everyone knows what they mean which can feel alienating and unnecessary to people who don’t understand them. I -get- why people ‘cringe’ when they see like 10 terms they don’t understand in someones bio. why do you think i don’t even list anything about my sexuality in mine other than my pronouns?

but I always remember like. just bc that label isnt For Me, it doesn’t mean there might be someone in a similar position to me who doesnt feel comfortable just calling themeslves bi, and prefers the label ‘demisexual biromantic’ who feels like that phrase puts them in a place of peace and contentment, and I wouldn’t argue with them about it. Bc thats their fucking choice. Them being happy with who they are takes priority over my personal opinions of the language they use. same with gender nonconforming people who dont want call themselves trans or nonbinary. Thats fucking Fine. I’m not telling you to have to use the same words as me if you don’t feel like they’re necessary or accurate. I literally don’t give a rats ass what words you use to identify yourself so long as they’re not being used to hurt other people. I just want to be able to have Words, for myself, that describe how I feel, that don’t result in people treating my entire identity like some shitty discourse Meme. And right now I have none. No matter what I call myself, people choose tell me it’s not accurate, or its too complicated.

As for all these shitty fucking posts about people ‘forcing’ young people to take up labels. This. This doesn’t actually happen? (OK I won’t say it doesn’t happen ever on an individual level? but that its not something enforced or encouraged by any group as a practice, and that distinction is necessary, bc saying it happens on a large scale literally implies predatory intentions from a massive group of people instead of members of the group behaving poorly as individuals)

Demisexual people as a whole have literally never told me i had to call myself demi just bc my sense of how i experience attraction might be similar to theirs. Ace people as a whole don’t usually tell people whose lack of sexual attraction is caused by trauma or who havent developed enough to experience sexual attraction that they -have- to call themselves ace. Most Bi or Pan people are fine with the fact that their labels have a lot of overlap and that the line between these things can be murky, they arent actually constantly ready to tear each others throats out over whose terminology is correct. All of this shit is made up by hateful people, or people taking a few examples of poor behavior out of context as an excuse to shit on everyone else, and well meaning people keep falling for it bc it -seems- helpful to be. reactive. I guess? to people you’re constantly told are hurtful to the causes of marginalized people. but im telling you. its not true. literally nobody forces you to call yourself any of these words, they just Exist out there in case you want them, and if you think thats somehow a threat to other peoples identities or to Minors just like, conceptually, for existing, for being Too Specific, im sorry but what other word is there for your reaction than phobic? If an individual derails a conversation about Y to be like “You didn’t include _X_” or tries to force their views on a minor who hasn’t developed a stable sense of identity yet, that is an Individual behaving in an inappropriate manner, not an invitation for you to throw the whole group under the bus. I hate to tell you but if you’re using examples of individuals on tumblr who say stupid shit, everyone on tumblr says stupid shit and butts in conversationally where they’re not welcome. Universally. It’s how tumblr is formatted. Trust me, I have like 4 viral posts going right now.

i’m just tired of it at this point. im not cool with people who stretch to make fun of micro-labels all the time and think they’re being woke allies or w/e to the ‘real LGBTs’.  Even if a lot of the time I personally don’t care for all the labels and wouldn’t choose them for myself, I still feel like If you can’t treat people like individuals and assess their character on a case by case basis, i don’t trust you. I don’t like people who stereotype and LGBT people are not immune to this behavior. Like i don’t say it often but it fucking hurts, and it hurts other people I’m close to who I know have similar complicated identities and struggle coming up w/words to describe themselves that the whole of tumblr LGBT+ will approve of and agree with (clearly an impossibility because there are still people who don’t want bi and trans to even be in there). I might tolerate the constant jokes and not block on principle of knowing not everyone has ingested and thought about this discourse in the same way I have, and im a big tough adult, ultimately i can take it. but inside i know no matter what i call myself, if i were earnest with some of you about how i feel I’d probably be just another ‘special snowflake Delusional mogai creep’ to you, and i can’t deny that fucking hurts to think about. I try not to talk about it openly bc it embarrasses me, bc i dont think my sexuality should have to be battle ground for discourse for people who are supposed to be on my side. But there it is. I think most of this discourse is Trash, and clearly not for the reason most people on here say its trash, not bc theres ‘too many specific words, y’all just be Making Shit Up’ but because so many of you are more caught up in the words than the substance of the arguments or the needs of people whose experiences might have a lot of overlap with yours regardless of what word they’re using to describe it.

Anyway. happy pride to LGBTQA+ people who still dont really feel pride in themselves or their identity. I’d say you’re valid, but you don’t need my validation or anyone elses to understand that you’re a person deserving of respect and compassion. You exist as who you are, and you have to come to terms with who that is, regardless of whether or not you feel like you’re accepted for it. if not pride then, settle for confidence in who you are.

[strechanadi]

Swan Lake Wolfgang/Siegfried overthinking no. I-refuse-to-count-how-many-times-this-stupid-ballet-and-this-even-more-stupid-characters-did-not-let-me-sleep!

Dear @spinmelikeyoumeanit ... this is yet again yours and yours fault only.

(And yes, once I start I physically cannot stop myself, which leads to... err. THIS!)

(I sincerely apologize. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Truly.)

Well, I promised, didn’t I? And it literally took me just about a lifetime! (On the other hand – academic life happened. Don’t do postgrad, kids, it’s just not worth it…) (Or maybe just dont try to write a dissertation in a MONTH! FFS!)

  One would think I would be over it. That after so many Swan Lakes nothing would have the ability to shake me. That after so many sleepless nights spent thinking over every little think here and there, I would know almost everything, therefore would be prepared for anything thrown at me. And yet here we are! Once again, blown away by Swan Lake of all ballets. I mean… could there be anything more cliché?

However, I already made peace with one thing (and you should probably too, saves lives and all that) and that’s the genius of Nureyev, of his Swan Lake and of the duality of Wolfgang/Rothbart.

As many of you remember, I’m sure (and slightly horrified), even recording of Nureyev’s SL is more than able to put me out of service, to prevent me from living what even the tiniest group of people would call a normal life. Or something. So, what the hell was I thinking when buying the ticket to see the ballet in question live, I have literally no idea. (Well. I have, actually. He may even have a name…) But yes, I did saw Swan Lake with POB live on stage. From the first fucking row, because that’s how extra I have to be. (Yes, my diet consists solely of bread and water since… seems like forever now.) I saw it, I died and that’s about it. However, my being dead is not something anyone would be particularly interested in, so let’s just move to the only thing you (the whole lot of exactly one person) are here for.

 I did write a review on said performance. And usually I’m trying to translate them (even though I’m not exactly sure why, because it causes me almost physical pain and at the end I feel endlessly stupid, since I have to search every second word in dictionary, which is slightly pathetic, also I love my Czech sentences too much and with my pitiful knowledge of English I simply cannot make them justice, so they look utterly weird in the end and they deserve better than that), however unlike with my first POB SL review 3 years back this time I’ve decided to just don’t give a shit and dive into the story head first consequences be damned, so I think with writing this thing here I would have everything important covered (i.e. no need for the actual review) (the first half was basically just me showing off my endless knowledge on SL music score, which is plain boring, let’s be real, plus I wrote all that in my first review).

/AN - This is actually longer than the review itself. I think I feel a little bit sick…/

So. Right. Swan Lake.

I’m not gonna pretend there’s anyone else in whom I am more interested than Siegfried. And it’s not just because Nureyev made him a main character of the story. It’s because it makes sense. Who is on stage from start to finish? Through whose eyes we are watching the whole story? We should be able to sympathize with Siegfried, we should be able to see his point, to understand him, to get what he’s doing and why – sort of at least. And that’s probably why I am so annoyed with traditional SLs where it mostly looks like the choreographers/dancers/ballet masters/whoever don’t even try and go with some bland hero, because whatever, we are all waiting for the 2nd act and the Swan anyway.

So, it’s clear I love Nureyev’s story with passion (you wouldn’t tell, would you!) and the moment the curtain raises I’m drawn to Siegfried no matter who’s the dancer. And, OK, if it’s Mathieu Ganio, I’m kind of helpless, I admit (it would be cute, I guess, were I not be way over 13 yo).

I will try to stay as reasonable as I could and not to embarrass myself. Too much. So I would not write about the stupid little things that nobody in their right mind would (or could!) notice (or at least not at the first sight), because, dear god, literally no one gives a damn about the way his fingers twitched during his Prologue‘s nightmare in perfect synchrony with the music and action on stage… Can I get to the point?! Preferably on this day!

  Normal person would be probably unable to talk about Siegfried without Odette/Odile. But I think we have already established I’m by no means a normal person. So, I am not able to talk about Siegfried without Wolfgang. (Yes, we are finally getting somewhere!)

I love their relationship in any shape and form and I would gladly watch every single cast and every possible combination of dancers in those two roles as I’m sure each time I would get something new (you cannot stop my brain, believe me, I tried). There was the oddly depending, blurred, yet intense José/Karl take. The terrifyingly creepy, what-the-fuck-happened-or-is-still-happening-behind-the-close-doors Mathieu/Francois one (that still makes my hair stand whenever I think about it, because… holy shit, that one moment between 1st and 2nd act!). The clueless puppy/slightly perverted, obsessed mastermind vibes from Germain/Francois. So what about Mathieu/Jérémy this time, hm?

  /AN – I’m gonna probably end up mixing dancers‘ names with their characters‘, so… Yeah. I have no excuses, it’s just going to happen anyway, no matter how hard I would try to prevent it./

  It was clear from the very first moment, Siegfried was much more mature this time, much more the young adult than barely 18yo adolescent. He looked reasonably confident, sure of himself, a true aristocrat, a crown prince ready to be a king (almost to the point where I was thinking – oh, where’s my lost, Asperger’s child? I want my lost, Asperger’s child! Spoiler alert – I got my lost, Asperger’s child eventually, do not worry. Just wait for it). However, watching him during the opening dance scene it was becoming more and more clear everything’s not so smooth as it may seem. He grew impatient, the whole situation slowly but surely becoming unbearable, and he was fighting against it with all he had, trying to stay calm, trying to play the role he was expecting to, his nervous, involuntary fingers tapping against his throne the only thing out of place. But there was always Wolfgang for him in those moments. Wolfgang, who was the constant, never-changing presence. Wolfgang, who could be standing on the other side of the room and the connection between him and his prince almost palpable, magnetic, electrifying. Always there. Always sure.

They look like best friends, no matter their different social status. Wolfgang casually showing Siegfried one girl or another (funny how he didn’t need to bring Siegfried’s attention to men, since he was happily watching them on his own accord), whispering something to his ear (A court rumour? An inside joke? A reassurance to keep Siegfried in his right mind?), hand casually on his shoulder. When they were walking together, Wolfgang was positively hugging Siegfried with his arm around prince’s shoulders. And then you saw him standing side stage, watching Siegfried being crowned, watching him dance, watching his inner struggle started by queen’s mention of marriage, watching him trying to act all casual and „oh, it’s nothing, I’m all right“ while knowing his autism and insecurities and all the good stuff is kicking, trying to break free and took over his mind and soul again. Because Siegfried may be more in charge now, but once autistic, always autistic… The mental issues were there. Waiting. As well as Wolfgang. Watching, waiting, calculating, manipulating without anybody knowing, using the Machiavellianism to the point.

And I wanted to scream, because hell, Siegfried, you look like a reasonable, mature human being. You are not the lost child with puppy eyes, you have to know something’s off! Tell me, what do you know! But then they were together and it was painfully clear he simply believed they were at the same page, he had no reason not to think so, they were in this together. Take the moment at the end of the „dance lesson.“ José himself leant towards Karl, believing him implicitly, automatically, without question and on top of that he actually looked him in the eye, and there was the brilliant moment where Karl looked away like – “oh no, stop, this is too much, that’s not right” and also “I’m not affected by this at all.” Francois just grabbed Mathieu’s arm and pulled. The gesture strong, harsh, leaving no doubts and literally no space between the two of them, because “oh no no, my prince, you have no personal space, no free will, I am the one who will tell you what to do, I am the one in charge, don’t forget that, I certainly not let you forget, ever.” With Mathieu and Jérémy the movement towards each other was mutual. Mathieu leaned back, Jérémy went slightly forward whispering into his ear.

However just a few seconds earlier, during the actual dance lesson, was a moment that couldn’t be more out of the realm of things OK even if it tried. I remember someone did something similar in one of the older videos I saw through the years of my healthy social life, I, however, do not remember it being quite like this time. I’m talking about the moment nearly at the end with Siegfried kneeling on the floor with Wolfgang walking around him. Some Wolfgangs simply put their hand on prince’s shoulder and squeeze, some let their hand stay there for a bit (too) long, some doesn’t touch Siegfried at all for one reason or another. And then came Jérémy. He did touch Mathieu’s shoulder. Let his hand there. Heavy, grounding. And then, slowly, intentionally, almost proprietary traced his chest from one collar bone to the other. Touching the bare skin. Not in some delicate, subtle, almost-not-there motion with fingertips barely touching. This was open. Possessive. Claiming. I inhaled so sharply people on the balcony must have heard it. I almost gave myself a brain concussion. Or got high on oxygen overdose. Or something. Being at home alone (or maybe even with my family around) I would be screaming myself hoarse and/or swearing profusely. But since I was sitting in a theatre with 2,5 thousands other people completely clueless of my inner battle, I had to… just keep breathing and acting cool. Not that I was particularly successful or anything.

How the 1st Act was going, it was more and more clear Siegfried depended on Wolfgang. And what was even more painful, it was his own decision. Surely, he was manipulated into it to some extent and at some point, but with this prince I believe if one asked him, he would say he believes Wolfgang. “Because he’s a friend. Because he’s helping. He’s good. Stop asking stupid questions, I’m not an idiot!” You had to admit this Wolfgang did a fucking good job without actually showing it (and showing off, looking at you, Francois). Because at the end of Act 1 all he had to do to stop Siegfried from following the running boys was turn his head. He didn’t step to stay in his way, he didn’t cross his arms or shake his head disapprovingly. He just stood there, then looked slightly over his shoulder and Siegfried stopped. Like that. And then, just before he was about to start his andante sostenuto variation (during which I most definitely died, because there was simply no other option, since this monster of a man, while doing his manege of jetés entrelacé, decided to turn the palm of his front arm up to make the landing pose in arabesque a cry, with his arm desperately reaching towards something, to fill every fucking detail of his movement with intention and meaning and who the hell asked this from you?! I can scarcely cope even while you are just dancing and feeling the music in ways that are too close to mine, could you please tell me, why you had to even do THIS to me?! Am I not dead enough?), he looked back at Wolfgang. Like if I could forget about their connection…!

But what was between the two of them exactly? I don’t have a clue. I know what I see in José/Karl interpretation. I know how I understand Mathieu/Francois relationship (because I am a bad person, my mind is poisoned and my brain is sick!). But Mathieu/Jérémy? There’s so much going on but I for the love of all that is holy cannot put a finger on it. (And that’s probably one of the reasons I almost went to the stage door to tell them I love them. I didn’t. I am an adult. I do not fangirl. I just go home and deal with all the feelings like the emotionally repressed person I am. I would make an excellent posh Englishman.) Let’s just say it was for the first time that Wolfgang was taller than Siegfried. Significantly taller. So whenever Siegfried wanted to looked him in the eyes, he had to look UP. And this stupid, tiny, little detail made me feel so many things, it’s not even funny anymore (which falsely indicated it WAS funny once, which most definitely was NOT). But just imagine the Siegfried/Wolfgang duet between act 1 and 2 with Siegfried coming to Wolfgang, to looking up to his eyes, and try not to see the vulnerability in it. Try not to see all the cards changing. Because it should have been Siegfried over Wolfgang because of their social status. During act one they were at the same level – because Siegfried wanted so. And now, suddenly, it was Wolfgang over Siegfried. And when he put the prince on the ground in the end, Siegfried looked yet again completely lost, devastated and abused… You just didn’t know how exactly this time. Or you did, but it was still just a wild guess, you couldn’t be completely, absolutely, 100% sure.

What was sure – Siegfried was broken. He took the offered crossbow as if not knowing what he is doing, as if not knowing it’s his hands that is holding it.  And then he stood up, turned and wanted to go to Wolfgang, because obviously. He made two steps, and Wolfgang was just standing there, centre stage, looking (not with the arms dismissively crossed as Francois, mind you) and Siegfried stopped, tripped over his feet, looked and promptly turned back. And there was something so unbelievably hurt in him. Because he knew what the crossbow means, figuratively. And that’s what hurt him most. Seeing Wolfgang with it. Seeing Wolfgang pushing him towards the edge, knowing he’s helpless, knowing that it would be him who would jump, he himself, nobody would actually push him, just bring him so near the edge, there would be no other choice. It was like an accusation. Because “I believed you. I trusted you. I thought we were friends. I thought you would help me. And you pushed me back towards my illness, pushed me into those dreams that we both know will be the end of me.” You could almost touch the moment, the last flicker of consciousness, the hurt creeping from the deep of Siegfried’s soul but it was too late already. It was late the moment he took the crossbow. And you were watching him losing the somewhat sane part of his mind, the part that knows, and falling to his dreams, to his forbidden world. Because giving the poor Asperger’s little prince a bit of schizophrenia is a way to go. Hello, this is me, nice to meet you.

Yes, partly this whole mess of a situation was the Queen’s fault. Her mentioning marriage and crowning and you know, the adult stuff, made Siegfried quiver in his so painfully hard-won stable mental state of sorts, that seemed more stable than in other SLs, but was still too fragile. But Wolfgang was the one who made it happened, who was the vital help, who was the final cause. Because who else could have been more successful? Who would have been better for such job? Who could have managed such thing if not him…?

 I’ll give you a break and am gonna talk about 3rd act for a bit. Because Mathieu Ganio’s Siegfried in act 3 is a fucking piece of art and someone give the man an award for it!

There was an achingly apparent difference between Act 1 Siegfried and Act 3 Siegfried. While during the 1st Act he was able to hold himself together to the point one would not tell he had any mental issues, in 3rd Act he was loosing his contact with reality from the start. And of course he was, with no Wolfgang behind his back whispering to his ear, keeping him in check, distracting him while things become too tedious and tiring, calming him by his mere presence. So his standing up and leaving the stage during character dances made so much sense. He refused the princesses with pleasure and right then he threw everything, his control, his mind, his consciousness out of window, and just jumped, leaving his illness in charge and Odile with Rothbart appeared. And if Odette and the lake was a dream, this was much more a fantasy. I’m going to repeat myself, but I stop when there would be more than one Siegfried like this in 3rd Act. Because this Siegfried was not dragged across stage by Odile, he was not simply following her with heart eyes, smiling and thinking rather stupidly she’s Odette, the pure, fragile girl from the lake even though she’s acting almost completely different. This Siegfried was confident, self-assured, constantly trying to convince Odile of his power and to prove himself. He grew impatient with her constant escaping, there was anger and sharpness in some of his movements. We all know the moment when Siegfried is standing behind Odile and she’s taking his arms to hug herself, right? So Mathieu Ganio leaned in and kissed. Her. On. The. Neck.

(I let that information sink.) (And while it would be sinking, I take a little walk to ease some of the tension and calm my inner voice that is screaming profanities, cause HOLYFUCKINGSHIT, can you imagine the dreamy, pure, innocent prince from previous act to do such thing?!)

I would also like to mention the black adagio. You know, the one where Siegfried is supposed to be fascinated by Odile who is seducing him? The one, during which this time was not quite clear if the prince was watching the enchanting black swan or Rothbart with the same intent, with the same intensity in his eyes and tension between the two of them…? Yeah.

(Also – Jérémy before his Rothbart variation, sitting on Siegfried’s throne like it belongs to him. Good grief!)

The end of act 3 wasn’t as much of a mad scene as it was in 2016. However Siegfried fell down on the floor completely unceremoniously, lying on his back and while the curtain opened and we were in the 4th Act he lied there in the exact same position and it looked almost like he’s in his bed. Like he completely lost it during the ball (and lost it he did) and was escorted to his chambers, put to his bed and now his poor, tortured mind sent him yet again to the woods, to the lake side.

Odette in act 2 was a complete figment of Siegfried’s imagination, appearing suddenly from nowhere, made from thin air, sharing Siegfried’s pain and deep grief. (Yes, even in act 2, because this time there were no heartfelt love confessions, no big romance, no sunny smiles and promises of happily ever after. But there was a bond. Strong and deeply felt.) In 4th Act she was resigned. She knew she’s about to die and there’s nothing she could do about it. Because Odette is Siegfried. In this performance and interpretation more than ever. She was his innocence that was somehow betrayed and violated by the act 3 fantasy. She was his integral part, she was his childhood, she was his hope, she was the last piece of his sanity, she was him. And Siegfried came to her guiltily, ashamed of himself, afraid to look herself in the eyes and see what became of him. Because he was dying. And he knew it.

And then Rothbart appeared and took Odette from Siegfried. Took his hope, his mind, his soul - like the mental illnesses, Siegfried’s ultimate bane and his final doom. And then came the last moment. When Siegfried turned around and there, in the middle of the mists stood someone. With arm held forward, palm up as in an invitation. And then… magnificent, ethereal Wolfgang spread his arms wide. Opened them for his prince, to let him jump into. And Siegfried run and jumped with his last breath and last desperate cry of arched back to the arms of death. That is nor evil, nor kind. That simply is.

And it makes you wonder – what if this was in the end the best option for Siegfried after all? What if Wolfgang was doing what he was doing having his prince’s good in mind? Was it something he himself believed in? That he was helping? Or was it just something he would say, if anybody asked? And was he ever even real?

 Hello. This is Nureyev’s Swan Lake for you. Causes many questions. Answers none. Gives you bunch of other instead.

  Please, do feel free to tell me I should find a professional help.

[breezles]

When it’s 7am on a Sunday and you’re not feeling tired enough to get any kind of sleep and feeling fucking alone; lengthy venty rant piece under the cut lmao

Why does life have to be a constant struggle? Why can’t anything ever go right, be right, just “work out”? As long as I can remember, from the time my family had to separate from the home we lived in together. My Gram with my Uncles, my Grandad in a travel trailer till he died. My Mom with her boyfriend in his house, and my Dad with a friend here and there. Constantly bouncing around every which way with no stability. It’s honestly all I’ve known up until the last 5years. Just begging for structure and ease of mind. 

But even then, gradually shit began to get worse as much as I tried to keep it together, always staying positive from the beginning of this all. During the 8 or so deaths in the family literally being on one side of it in the span of 4-5years I kept strong for my mom and bro because I didn’t want them to see me cry, my brother was too young to understand everything going on, but I was just old enough to grasp the reality of the fucked up way shit was going. Let’s not get into the constant screaming and yelling from my parents and verbally and emotionally abusive dad in the beginning. 

Through it all I told myself things would get better. Shit would settle down. I won’t lie it kind of did here and there, dry spells from drama and hardships. But when those hardships hit, they hit so motherfucking hard. Time and time again we some how managed to do it, Mom being the one to figure it out. Up until I got a job and right away started helping in bills and rent. I went to school got some grants and loans so I could get a car before my Moms jeep kicked the bucket and it didn’t come a second too soon. I started getting us back on track so our bills wouldn’t be shut off all the time. Water here, cable there, gas this that. 

I want to say around the age 17-18 when I was living with my Dad in an apartment because Moms bf’s place had no room but a couch, so I had a room staying with Dad which I was grateful for. I want to say this is when I started feeling defeated when it was harder and harder to stay positive with so much negativity going around and things not going right. Shortly after that Dad got kicked from the apartment and I had to stay with Mom, who then moved into the place we’re in now with her bf and my bro. Since then the entire issues with the bills had come and gone, now that I sit down and keep track of the household finances each month so we never get behind on rent, all the bills are paid at the beginning of the month and no later. There’s occasional groceries we can manage to get to get us to next paydays. 

Though right now, the hardships we’re facing are some of the most stressful. Despite being on top of things financially. I still have a huge fine on my car that had been and is still being driven illegally. We can’t afford it entirely up front.We can drve my bro’s now that it had just been pulled from shop but how much we can I dont know. 

I don’t even know why I felt the need to write this, except that through the last 10years of my life the state of my mental, emotional, and physical health has declined. I realized that during all of this I never stopped to care about myself long enough to fix anything going on. I feel alone, I feel defeated, i’ve developed depression, after all the fucking years of keeping my chin up and saying “nothing can get me down its nothing. I’ve got this” I realize, I was just lying to myself. I’ve gained weight, I have chronic fucking pain. No insurance to see a doctor because I can’t afford it, and the IRS taking any income tax I get that would help with everything going on for those student loans from years ago. I want to pay those things off, I don’t want to be in financial debt my whole life, I want to be responsible contributing member of society...I just want structure and normalcy but I can’t get it and I don’t know where to start to even fathom obtaining any of it and nobody in my life can help me because they’re in “tough” situations themselves or have their own financial things going on.

It’s not all bad though right? I have a job, I have a roof over my head even if it’s not my own place like I’ve wanted the last 5 years but its better than the streets. I’m alive even if more days than not I wish I wasn’t sometimes. I can laugh at a funny joke, make others laugh. But as I sit here and write this, all I can do is cry and feel the need for a hug. 

[messrsmemoirs]

Sometimes I wonder if I chose the right career path by choosing to be a teacher then I remember my fave character Remus Lupin is a teacher too & he is a good teacher so he inspires me to be a good teacher too. to inspire students, try and boost their confidence, be encouraging and kind. I actually think he’s probably my fave character as I have things in common like birthdays are close, used to love pranks, loves chocolate, similar insecurities, reserved, kind. Why is he your fave?

Alright this is long and personal and emotional so I’m adding a readmore and also a suggested content warning for child abuse and bullying and emotional blathering nobody wants to see.

For a number of reasons, many of which have changed or grown as I’ve gotten older. When I met Remus, I think I was about... nine? I was actually a little late getting into the Harry Potter fandom. I don’t even remember the year exactly, because I had no way of knowing how much the story would influence my life at the time. I think my first HP book was actually the Chamber of Secrets, and then I was surprised to find that there was one before?? And I had to read that one, too?? But I’m glad I did, because obviously two decades later I’m kicking here on a social media website for teens like a real adult.

Anyway, yes, when I met Remus I was about nine or ten, and... honestly, I think kid me was interested in his character for two reasons: first, because he was just a really kind person who was also patient and thoughtful. And second, because he was a werewolf. I’m not really going to lie, I’ve loved werewolves since I was a kid. So for kid me, that was like, “whoa, dude, that’s wicked rad,” and I definitely labeled that as the coolest thing since sliced bread. Dude was nice AND he’s a werewolf? A+.

I would label that as a brief introductory period, though, because I can remember in detail when Remus really started becoming this figure in my day-to-day. It was when I was 10-11, actually, and my parents had lost the fight with the bank to take over the mortgage of my late grandmother’s home. Having no place to go, we moved into a converted barn apartment in the dead of winter, very far away from the kids I had actually known. Now, I never had friends. Not really. I always sat by myself at lunch and on the playground, and leaving the few kids I could actually play with at recess was just a little blow unto mine heart. And when I went to this new school, I was all by myself. The kids spit on me and call me names, and I remember that there was this phase when I couldn’t look another person in the eye. We were so far away from everything that I spent the summer break alone (my parents were working and my sister was always spending the nights away from home on purpose), locked in the house-barn while it swayed in the wind like the old building it was. My parents were pretty emotionally abusive, and this was also around the time that my mother would start telling us about how she didn’t love us, tell us girls that we were fat for developing our breasts like we had a choice about puberty, or not make enough food for one of us because she was mad at us, things like that. Locking the refrigerator, blah, blah. The one teacher I had all year long (before the switch to middle school it was just one) actually went out of the way to keep me out of class field trips by not emailing my parents about changes to the schedule, etc. I remember I used to ride the school bus an hour each way, and I would like... beg God or whoever to just make it so that I wouldn’t feel emotions, and be like Spock. No emotions, so I could just be a robot and do what everyone expected of me. So... you know, this was a really rough region of time for kid me.

I think what really spoke to me about this silly book character was that he was just... really kind. And thoughtful, and he listened when people spoke about their problems. He took people seriously. He cared about people. And I think, looking back, that he was just the kind of personality, the kind of adult figure that I really needed in my life at the time. I didn’t ever have anyone to look up to growing up except for this fictional werewolf who, as the books came out one by one, was revealed to me as this person who was kind despite the things that happened to him. I was drawn in by how he kept getting back up in the face of adversity, when the entire world despised what he was without ever caring for who he was. How he suffered and suffered and was still so kind, how he still felt love, how he hated himself so much and yet he was doing so much good. ... And, you know, the werewolf thing was still cool, too, so there’s that.

When I was a teenager, I was the worst fan. I was very into Wolfstar, very into chocoholic Remus--and not that those things are bad, of course, but that was an earlier time, when we used Photobucket and something called Myspace, and I wore those black pants with chains on them because I was Different, not one of Those Other Girls. And please, I’m really not criticizing you if you do any of these things. More power to you, quite honestly. It’s just that I was kind of this kid who thought she was straight who had never had anyone ask me out ever, was very depressed all the time, and had anime soundtrack cds and wore a key to the house around my neck. I was very Not Cool. And my limited interaction with people and the world around me had me making these very limited headcanons that were all based on the fanon at the time, which were (surprise) wolfstar and chocoholic Remus. Yes, they’ve been around for literally forever. I hadn’t really matured in my understanding of the person Remus was, not really. But what I did admire were those same traits, and what I ended up doing was trying to push myself to be the person I thought he would respect. To be someone calm under duress, kind, and quick-witted.

And of course I was not those things, because I was a teenager going through a quiet emo phase that turned out to be the beginnings of mental illness. And I punished myself so hard for not being the person I thought I needed to be. I don’t do that so much anymore, but I still allow Remus to be my compass in life while being aware of his flaws (where I thought he had none when I was a teen) and more importantly, aware of my own. Nowadays, Remus is still the kind of person I hope to become like, but it’s so that I can be that person for someone else, maybe. So that maybe someday they won’t need a book to be their only friend, or maybe they can have a person in their lives who takes them seriously and treats them with kindness.

Adult me values Remus for who he isn’t as much as who he is. I value the deeply human nature of his flaws, and the raw emotional power his story really has. I value his inner strength and use it as a buoy for myself when I can’t help what’s going on in my head. I value that he breaks, and breaks, and breaks, and that he gets back up knowing that he will break again but doing in anyway. I value that he is afraid of people, afraid of the future, afraid of himself, because so am I. And he’s still such a kind and patient soul. He’s so angry and he has every right to be, but he’s still kind. He’s so hurt, and he lives his life in constant pain in one form or another. And he just... I don’t know. Remus has this awful life. Terrible things, unfair things, have happened to him, and he had all the potential and justification to become someone angry at the world and hateful of everything in it, but he didn’t. I want to do that, too, but I haven’t yet. I still have a lot to learn from him, and I’m really excited to see where things go in the future.

And I thought about being a teacher for a long time, actually, because of Remus. But I find that I’m not actually a good verbal communicator. Nor do I really feel comfortable with children... And I just don’t have the confidence. So I would actually love to hear about your journey into teaching and what it’s like in your experience with a little Remus in your head wishing you to do well. I did do a few things on my own because of him, though. I speak an intermediate amount of Welsh because of Remus, actually. ... Which isn’t the same as educating the next generation, but I get the jokes about carrots and morons now.

... So bear with me, as this was an entirely emotional ramble and not really coherent, but I do hope I was able to answer your question.

[firefliesinthenightsky]

Chapter 1.

30th June, 2020

06:51 PM

Delhi

So I ditched. I thought I’d do this everyday. Vent out what I carried in my heart, for the world to hear. I almost wrote my second draft, too. But so much happened in life simultaneously, that I found myself battling the dilemma whether I should not think about the ugly memories, and let positivity wash my conscience, or to vent out everything I had bottled inside me. As I sat to do the latter, I found myself thinking hard, precisely of every memory that I had so deeply etched in my mind, that life became unmanageable to live!

So, I cut off. I didn't write. Instead, I bought a lot of books that I would read (another habit that had gotten washed away with time). One of the books that a friend suggested was, “The Power of your Subconscious Mind”. It gave me so much peace as I read it. It became my Bible. Few things among the many that I carry from this book are -

All religions of the world represent forms of belief, and these beliefs are explained in many ways. The law of life is belief. What do you feel about yourself, life, and the universe? It’s done unto you as you believe.

This book had a huge impact on my life, or at least I believe so. Whenever I feel depressed, anxious, have panic attacks, or something bad happens in my life, (all of which is happening currently), I open any page, literally any page of this book, and start reading anything that appears in front of my eyes. This book gives me enormous positivity.

If you ever feel lack of motivation, blindly go through this book and try to understand each word that has been mentioned. For if you believe, you’ll conquer your mind.

I try my level best to follow every and each word written in there. Though I admit, it is beyond difficult for me currently.

Another thing I realised from the time that I went through in the past month was - NOTHING IS PERMANENT. 

This was the first love of my life. I had spoken to this person for the first time on 25th November, 2012. I was in 11th grade. Three months down, he proposed. Another one month, I said yes. And thus followed the pangs of the “first love”. Those sleepless nights after a tiring day, spent talking to him. The butterflies in your tummy when you hear their voice after a long day. “We were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was...” Ed Sheeran definitely wrote this one for us. Haha. Oh wait, actually he didn't. He also said, “I will not give you up, this time!” An utter joke, in our case. 

I learnt, on 8th June, 2020, that the man I loved deeply, and with all my being, for 7 years of my life, never actually loved me. Or even if he did, he “un-loved” long back. “Un-Loving” - a concept I was still to learn. Love, had always been a one-way road to me so far. The truths I grew up believing went for a toss in a jiffy. I will dedicate an entire chapter to this person. Hopefully.

Then comes the second love of my life. Somebody whom I had fallen in love with on October, 2018. Or so I like to believe. Along with the supreme love he gave me, he had done some really horrific things, too. With him, I, for the first time in my life, got to know what love tastes like. I had never been cared for, loved and been cherished anytime, prior to him coming in my life. But, as I said, he was a man of extremes. If I saw the highest intensity of love on one side, I also saw the utmost intensity of possessiveness, distrust and disloyalty on the other. He obsessively compulsively lied. And so, after putting up with it for approximately a year, on April, 2020. I gave up.

I miss him. I hate to say I do. And all my friends tell me I'm a girl with such low self esteem to say that I do. ...But I do. I don't blame them for thinking what they do, because, nobody was “me” while growing up. Losing my Dad at 12, never having been close to family, not choosing to have many real true friends, having lost at love with the man I gave my entire being to, being with this person was “solace” for me. The few good times we spent together, those hugs, felt heavenly. I became that little girl around him again, who had a place to rest her head, like I did on Dad’s chest and feel like maybe for that minute, the entire pain evaporated. For those 3 minutes of the day, I found peace.

But then the distrust and the disloyalties would kick in again. I was so constantly lied to, that there came a point where everything that came out of that man’s mouth seemed to be a lie. I was in a constant state of tension and unhappiness all the time. So much so that, maybe that became the new normal for me. I didn’t remember the last time I was internally happy. Or had my heartiest laugh. I don't know if he was actually lying half times, but my intuition, my gut told me he is an obsessive compulsive liar. 26th April, 2020, I was left with no choice, than to leave. I will dedicate an entire chapter to this person in my blogs to come, too. Hopefully. 

The third thing I realised was, not everybody is your “friend”. It’s a heavy word, you know, being a “friend”. So for me, being the girl who had grown up in a boarding school since she was 7, the word held a much more greater significance than most people I had been calling “friends” for most of my life. I, being the person who would cross boundaries for being there for my friends, I realised, that the ones I expected to do the same for me when I was at my lowest, did not! But again, our pain and our suffering is very subjective to us, and of course,  maybe I was wrong to expect another human being to share it with me. Another concept which went for a toss in the past month. We’ll talk about it too, sometime. Our suffering, is our own.

The last thought, before I wrote this blog today was, “...maybe that's why they say, after the darkest hour of the night, shines the first ray of sunlight?” Isn't it? I’m sure in this process of “moving on”, that all of us would so well be acquainted with by now, I would have some better and some crazy bad days as well. But, maybe that's how it is, right? The darkest hour of my night might be going on, but trust me, as Joseph Murphy recently taught me, that if I constantly kept imagining about the first ray of sunshine, that when it touches me, would eventually melt down the ice that's been frozen on my conscious and subconscious self over all this time, the supreme intelligence or the supreme power that exists, that most of us call “God”, would eventually make that happen. It will come to pass.

He says, “We are, what we think.” And even though right now it takes every ounce of energy in me to think what he expects me to, since the dark seems prolonging and never ending at the moment, I know there's always light at the end of the tunnel. And so, I want to believe him when he says that.

So yeah, there's a lot to share. Grab your popcorn and hot chocolate, because they say my life has been nothing less than a hell of a roller coaster, more like a super dramatic movie. I’ve come to believe the same.

See you guys, soon.

P.S. - Happy birthday, Papa.