#which don't get me wrong i've felt incredibly bad in the past few months

[confinesofmy]

recently a big thing that i was scared of and had been for many months went away completely and i was really happy for 3 days. then a major fucked up thing happened that shook me to my core. now that's as resolved as it will ever be but i don't have my Big Problem anymore so i'm back to replaying the trauma that i put on pause months ago to try and deal with said big problem. i think i hauve Trauma.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Verisimilitude (long thoughts about writing)

Sometimes I get mailed random books to consider for course adoption. The first one I looked at the other day was so incredibly bad I could not make it past page 12--"oh my god I hate books" bad; "trees were wasted on this!!" bad. And then there's this one. I've made it to page 30-something and I could have told you 20 pages ago that Oliver Twist it would remain, but I am still reading it to read it, and maybe keep it to recommend extracurricularly. (The protagonist Alva is a weeb for American culture, whatever the word is for that, which I think could make for interesting study!) But that's all context to say,

AH YES THE INTERNET RABBIT HOLE OF NARUTO FAN FICTION, HENTAILORD. WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE.

SO...

BLEACH MENTION WHEN????

Based on the style of her screen name, the Naruto porn, and her listening to My Chemical Romance and Linkin Park, this girl is definitely living her teenage life in the mid-00s, in ways that are searingly obvious. Which feels like it should be a massive success in terms of using verisimilitude to pinpoint a particular time and place and, by extension, person. But I don't think it does?

In thinking about why this doesn't work for me as a reader:

1. As a general rule, I tend not to enjoy "fandom" subculture references like this in fiction, because they have never felt true to my experience of fandom, or even my experience of others' experiences of fandom. The specificity is there but not the verisimilitude. Whether this is because of an inability to articulate the breath of life that animates fandom spaces, or a feeling of needing to at least kind of translate it for the uninitiated general audience, I don't know. Not that Alva's narrative goes far enough to merit this discussion; she's just reading Naruto porn for one sentence, but it just doesn't land right for me. (Sidebar, this is probably also why I don't enjoy acafandom or fandom essays that aspire to acafandom; there's usually this attempted, manufactured critical/"objective" distance from the text that often feels performative, or at least the wrong [or less interesting] tool for the job. And even where 'in-group' positionality is addressed, the translation required to make these things legible to the out-group is just--well, not what I want in life, I guess!)

2. I am a great believer in drawing greatly from what you know and feel and all those random thoughts and behaviors and emotions and tics that make life interesting, and giving them to fiction. In fanfic especially, I am a great believer in seeing the author's hands in a text, making the story (and the original canon) unmistakably theirs. But I kind of always want them to be hands that are in the act of giving. By which I mean, I think there's a difference between all these things existing in a story and having been given to a character or a world or a story, and integrated genuinely into them.

Like, all I can think about while reading this book is how the author definitely lived through the mid-00s in a particular and very familiar way. Rather than create a richly immersive world, the details jump out of the page and leave the story behind. They don't feel like they belong to Alva (or perhaps Alva does not feel like a character with the depth to hold them and make them hers). They belong do the author, and to me, and to history, but Alva falls out of the equation. And if this is going to work, I feel like Alva can't fall out of the equation.

3. I was talking to a friend about something similar a few months ago. She was complaining about a historical fiction book she was reading with a book club she leads at the library she works at--how it was clearly very well-researched, but dry as hell. The information was not animated by the story itself. And I compared it to a fanfic I'd (not) read, where the author was very proud of all the research they'd done and how accurate-to-life its setting was. (To be clear, I'm not subtweeting Bleach fandom. Completely different fandom! Also this fanfic was published like 16 years ago.) The fic did bring in lots of specific details about trees and highways and city names--things I knew well, too, because it was set where my sister lives--but rather than be as exciting and, again, rich, as I feel like that familiarity could have been, it all felt dead. Because all these things were described specifically, but not true to how the narrating characters would describe them, or mentally catalogue them, or experience them.

And you might think, well, how would we possibly know how a character thinks about highways? It's not like he's explained this in canon. And I'd say, well, you definitely can. There are probably a lot of different ways a character could plausibly think about highways, depending on the specific shade and flavor of your characterization of them, all equally believable; but it's got to be part of the equation. There are a lot of ways to be right, and you know it when it's wrong. The wrong-est way it can be is for the way they think about highways to not factor into the way those dang highways are being described by them, in their POV.

4. I think about this both as a reader and as a writer--certainly more often as a writer, because I find that level of imagining a character's headspace the VERY best part of the process, and also because I am often concerned I am not doing it, or at least not well, lol. I'm positive I've done all the things I've just talked about not enjoying.

These concerns exist at the level of characterization work in general, but also at that level of, is the wizard behind the green curtain? Are his hands giving? Because while I do write fanfic because "it is fun" and because "this idea interests me," I am also usually writing it to work through deeply personal emotions/experiences. Which again, perhaps selfishly, I support that. But from a craft perspective I don't want it to feel, transparently, like "oh lol this author is going through it."

Moreover, from a relational perspective, I don't want that to be the relationship between me as author and the characters. Because one thing I am ALWAYS writing fanfic to do is to indulge my feelings about how much I am in complete, rapturous love with the characters and worlds in question. I don't want to just place things upon them, like a film or shroud; I want them to be given, integrated, arriving in the text wholly in their bodies and in their minds and entirely theirs. And I mean this for both the emotional arcs and conflicts and the random tics and details. I want them to have been given, and to belong, and to feel completely and inextricably theirs.

So, those are my thoughts about mid-00s Naruto porn!!!

I'd love to hear others' perspectives, as readers or writers or both. Have you had similar reactions, or quite different? Why do you write, and what do you want? What's your template for how you think about characterization, or your writerly relationship to canon/characters?

[discountdyke]

so the thing is that after thanksgiving I realized I seriously can't go back to my parents without addressing all of the abuse. I figured this would happen at some point, but I didn't realize it would be so soon. wrote out some very long letters to both parents, both revealing and acknowledging secrets about the abuse and looking for a way forward. put the letters in the mail tuesday evening and I've heard nothing about it from my parents so far.

somehow, I felt okay with all of this, and I still sort of do. I thought I would break down and seriously lose function but i just...haven't. I definitely feel depressed, but I don't feel like the whole world is crashing down. I feel like I can survive this without completely losing control, and that feels so wrong? shouldn't I be sobbing all day? that's how I was living in their house. and I have been grieving so much the past year or so for the childhood and parents I deserved but never had.

but what seriously sucks is that I'm basically unemployed bc I have a church gig that's about 4 hours a week. which is like, cool I'm getting some money, but it's not keep my occupied for part of the day. I need to get back into a practice routine which I honestly haven't really had for the past 3 years.

I'm sick of going thru the motions of trying to distract myself. I'm tired of trying to mark things off the list when I still feel so numb and tired. I dont want to think about how things will get better, I just want to sit in my pain. but if I don't check off enough things then I feel horrible about myself and my life. I define so much of myself on productivity so not having a job at all makes that kinda difficult when I'm depressed.

and just when I was getting my footing with all of this, new horrific memories popped up. they just absolutely can't be real, and yet I know in my heart they must be. that's part of this process. that's what happens when u were forced to split into pieces as a toddler. but why now? why is there more? how can there be anything more devastating than what I learned last year? and if that can be true, what else will I find? when will I actually be done with this?

and of course I feel ashamed bc I feel like my flashbacks aren't real (they are) and I feel like I can't grieve my parents when they're alive and my gfs dad just died (even though there is no monopoly on grief) and I feel incredibly guilty for "being mean" to my parents (who inflicted horrific trauma) and for making my gf worry (bc she cares about me). I hate that so much of my brain operates on shame. feels like I can't do anything now without being ashamed of myself somehow.

and I never liked christmas but this really is a bad time of year to confront your parents about 20 years of abuse bc everyone else is spending time with their families. thank fucking god I start the conversion process in few months and also that elise and I got to spend hannukah together so we had a holiday in that way. I just wish the entire world wasn't crashing around me while I lay depressed and dissociated from it all in bed.

[shirpowbra]

Updateee :> (prepare, it's gonna be a long one)

heyoo, I know I said before I'll give you all an update but things have been escalating downhill rather fast on my end and I'm quite, well, overwhelmed how to put it into words

well first things first, the maid we hired for my grandma ran away and took some cash from her, didn't even have the audacity to close the gates of our house when she did. I got too busy in helping with the chores around the house which are many. Luckily tho, we have cameras installed and she left most of her important documents to us so we could make a pretty solid case against her.

And the second one, whoo boi.

My...mom is in the hospital. There were lumps found in her uterus in the past and all of a sudden they all just came out one day. She was incredible pain so we had to rush her to the ER right away. I have to be left behind to the house in taking care of everything in the house. That's why I haven't been able to draw these days, even though I miss it a lot haha.

A lot of people have been visiting the house out of concern, though they're mostly there for my mom and grandma. Sure, they'd leave food for us but it mostly felt like just a way to stroke their egos and stuff, I dunno. They didn't even try to ask how I felt about everything if I'm being honest, but maybe it's just that I didn't really open up to all of them...they all come from church and if I show them a slight hint of "worldliness" I'd be lectured, and boy I don't want any of that. Guess you can call me shallow for thinking like this.

In all honesty...I really don't know how to feel right now. My mom, well my whole family, aren't the best people to be around with. Whenever I'd call them out on their BS, I'd be gaslighted and I'm left questioning if everything I'm feeling right now is valid. An individual is valid to not forgive someone who wronged them, but if you say that to my family, they'll see you as someone who's selfish.

I kinda wanna be happy that this happened to her, yet there's this nagging thought behind my head telling me that I shouldn't... I know I'd be a bad person for thinking that, my sister's already does that's for sure. I guess (emphasis on "guess") I could try and forgive but I don't know if I could still love them just as before.

My mother's still alive...just, barely. The doctors couldn't operate to remove the lumps off her because her hemoglobin levels are pretty low so we'd prolly have to wait till June or July for it to rise. They'll maybe come back home soon next week since staying over in the hospital for weeks now cost a lot.

I'm gonna be honest...I'm scared of the inevitable. Scared that there's not gonna be much hope of me and my mom reaching to an understanding and scared that none of my relatives would take me in when it happens because they'd rather tend to their own business and all. They never bothered to help us with grandma's needs...why would they help me now?

I'll still be posting stuff, though I think they're mostly drawn from months before and I wish y'all would like 'em. I think I'll also make a few announcements here and there and hopefully I'd be able to draw or make some art again. I do miss it and it helps me get my mind off things.

I've finally let out all of my thoughts, and I know it seems uncharacteristic of me, but...please pray for me. Whatever happens, I just wish that everything would turn out okay in the end.

[nadohunter]

Alright, you want to go this ham on this insane kind of reaching? Alright, lets go, since anons love being this bold and thinking they're doing something.

I'm incredibly confused where this is coming from, you are doing some MAJOR jumping and putting words in my mouth.

In my most recent post which I'm assuming this is what its about, I'm wondering if your reading comprehension is literally in the toilet??? I only said shipping adults x minors is bad? Because I expressed that since I was LITERALLY 13 fucking years old in this goddamned fandom i've been harassed by people, often grown ass adults for DARING to say I didn't like it??? That to me it felt morally wrong? Because I voiced my reasoning for leaving kuroshitsuji as a fandom because its been damaging to my health so I'm making the PERSONAL CHOICE TO STEP AWAY FROM IT.

Also in all of my posts where I've ever talked about any of my opinions on this stuff I've always said weather you think someone is doing something bad or not explicitly to NOT bug them or send them messages? Especially not ones that threaten them because I LITERALLY SAID, I HAVE BEEN TOLD TO KMS FROM THIS DAMN FANDOM BECAUSE I DARED SAY I'M NOT COMFORTABLE WITH SOMETHING? Because I know people who have been hurt by it??? And I've said many many many fucking times that if someone IS dangerous it is STILL in your best interests not to harass them because you do not want to put yourself in the path of someone dangerous?

And what the fuck is this line about me saying 'yaoi is fetishization' is terf rehtoric? I'm guessing your talking about a post where I gently disagreed with someone... not shipping a m|m ship "because they're both tops". What the fuck are you on? Me saying 'it seems degrading to boil down gay relationships to this' is me being a terf now?

This is so much reaching. Do I agree with everything anti-proships do? No, I feel like me defending sebawill because someone called it 'inherently abusive' should say that much. However seriously defending p*dophillia because you like getting your rocks off to that, to people who have been traumatized due to it using a dumbass anology that Hitler drank water??? No fucking shit we don't stop drinking water because water is a normal thing we drink to survive?? What do you fucking drink p*dophillia to survive??? If you think you need to consume p*dophillic content to survive I think that's a you problem. Believe it or not people are capable of complex thought? I can make the personal choice to block people who make certain types of content. I am well within my right to do so. I am allowed to say "I don't like this" and frankly the amount of people, CHILDREN that have been hurt by this bullshit, is too many.

Your immediate response to someone coming forward saying they've been groomed by this bullshit should be compassion, not LET PEOPLE SHIP WHAT THEY WANNNTTT. Your immediate reaction should always be fucking compassion. But its not, and then you wonder why people think this kind of B.S. is so morally reprehensible. Normalizing p*dophillia is bad. Telling children, they should be okay with it because its 'not real'. is bad. Fantasizing... about p*dophillia should be a sign that you need to go get help, because that is not healthy, even if you never act on it with a real person.

If you want to invoke... fucking Hitler I guess, no, you know what this is like? This is like telling a jewish person they should be okay with someone drawing fetish art of fucking n*zis. That they should be okay with writing a fic that downplays and romanticizes the h*locost.

Sorry I care more about real people than fucking fiction I guess?

If pr*shippers supposedly 'just want to be left alone' then fucking leave other people alone too? I'm literally changing my focus because this fandom and pr*shipper types have not: left me the fuck alone, despite ignoring them when they bombared me with messages calling me a bitch, calling my art ugly, threatening to 'expose' me for being a horrible person? But you have the gall to get up on your high horse and talk to me like that when clearly you haven't properly read a goddamned thing i've ever said and are just dead set on defending what again I can only assume to be p*dophillia because that's what I was saying in the context of being honest about the harassment I got from adults as a minor for just saying i was uncomfortable with it.

And honestly??? Thank you anon. You proved my fucking point. You just proved why I am so sick and done with this fandom and have made the personal choice to move on. I made a post explaining to a someone why I have made the personal choice to leave and no longer post anything outside of the comic for it. You know what I haven't done? What you just fucking did. If your so high and mighty, you know what you could have done "Ugh, I don't agree with her, I won't interact!" You know... unlike the giant hypocrite and whoever else has been leaving a ton of lovely messages for me over the past few months.

I have not left any nasty or even accusatory messages in anyone's inbox because unlike what you seem to want to accuse me of? I chose to say my piece and remove myself from the situation, because after two fucking months of this exact kind of bullshit that I chose to ignore rather than go send people shitty messages, I'm done. I'm moving on.

[antigoneidk]

Everything I wanted to say:a letter to you|t.h.

a/n: I had this idea in my head for days but I was only able to write it now hehe. I hope you like it and I am sorry for any mistakes💞*gif is not mine*

warnings:fluff, fluff, a lit bit of angst(only if you are like me)

My love, my light, my life.

I have no words to describe how much in love i am with you. How fast my heart beats when i feel you're around. How my butterflies dance inside my stomach whenever you touch me. How I melt right in your hands everytime you squeeze my body, keep me safe in your arms. How the world stops spinning when you kiss me with those lips, that fit mine so perfectly.

I was convinced that true love didn't exist. That my parents kept lying to me through fairytales with princess waiting the prince with the white horse to take them away, show them love and affection. And both of them will fall for each other.

But as I was growing up and looked around me, everything proved them wrong. People are cruel, full of hate, shameless, unaware of how bad they can damage others. I just locked myself in four walls tired of it. Tired of not having someone to talk to. A real friend. An honest person, pure, innocent, loving, caring, kind, generous. The opposite of the majority.

And then you came into my life.

I am not gonna be able to forget the first time that I saw your face. You were smiling bright, the whole street lighting up. Your eyes were a little smaller. Your nose and cheeks had turned to a light red, as you were speaking to some people, fans. I wish I was closer that moment to picture in my head every detail, to paint your face and put it next to me each time you are gone. And you wore that blue sweater, my favourite one which I'm wearing right now, and that pair of black jeans, always looking good at you. Your hair were curly and every ten seconds your fingers were running through.

I heard your laugh from across the street, a sound that was playing in my mind for days. I had stopped there by accident before I searched around me curious from where the sound came from. That was all it took for me to just stand there and watch you, hug and smile to others, joking around, laughing, giving autographs. I wondered how you would smell every time you crossed your arms around somebody. I liked that you were happy, open handed, polite to them. I knew that you were different that day and even though you might not believe it,is the truth.

And then you glanced at me, taking my breath away. It was like the time had stopped, the world paused and the only ones with the power to move and talk were just the two of us. I felt your brown eyes looking at my soul, my life, my choices, my mistakes. I got embarrassed and scared. Scared that the fairytales were based on real life, that I might have found my prince. I know it sounds stupid, and now that I'm thinking of it, yes it is. But for a second I had that fantasy. My brain and heart stopped working, all my senses gave up. It was only you.

Tom then you smiled at me. ME. My walls that I was building for years fell down with that smile making me feel weak, not being able to process this. I've never had someone to look at me the way you did that day, I thought I was dreaming. Maybe it wasn't something special for you, you had people's eyes on you 24/7 but for me, you were the first. That's why I stood still in my place. I tried to enjoy every second.

I smiled back at you shyly and pulled my hair back, such a girly move. You looked down still with your smile at your face, then back at me and I swear I was ready to explode from all my emotions. I wanted to cry from happiness that finally something changed in my life but also from sadness because I knew that was for only a few seconds. Reality hit my face hard when a couple of men started shouting your name and dragging you to a different direction away for me. And that's when I said to myself that "it was too good to be true" and walked with tears in my eyes. If anyone else was at my place maybe they wouldn't care about it but I did.  I lived on the sidelines for so long and I had a chance,  I thought I had a chance but I guessed that i didn't deserved it.

And the time when I felt your hand on my shoulder and I saw you standing in front of me I pushed aside all of my negative thoughts and questioned if I was daydreaming and turning crazy. I felt my skin under my clothes burning from your touch, my heart losing control and my brain not working, only my eyes watching and my nose smelling your fragrance. I wanted to hug you just so I can smell it for the rest of my life. Then you talked to me asking if I was okay, your eyes following a teardrop making it's way down to my cheek and I felt so stupid that a boy, a stranger was seeing me like these. Do you remember that?

"Yes" he whispered to himself and turned the page to the other side wanting to read more.

Fast forward to our first date. I was so anxious all day, spending majority of my time in front of a mirror changing outfits, makeup, hair styles not satisfying with anything. I was turning to that teenage girl I always made fun of. I was making circles around the house practicing how I would act around you, how would I speak and what I would say.

You were the sweetest man I could ask for, such a gentleman. I couldn't get my eyes off of you, so confident and handsome, talking about the most silliest things and making me laugh all night with your jokes and random comments for the topic I was talking about. You held my hand and kept listening to me and laughed at my miserably jokes. I was the luckiest woman that night and to the ride back at my house I remember feeling so sad that I had to say goodbye to you even though i wanted to spent more and more time with you. By surprise you didn't stop and continued to drive.

We got to our favorite place now, yours back in the day. I never knew why you did that and although I want so desperately to know I'll never ask. Let that kind of mystery follow. We sat down and kept a deep conversation starting about our past. Well mine. I was battling with my self if I should had open to you or not and I'm glad I did. You listened carefully to what I was saying and held my hand the entire time, squeezing when I was about to cry. You have no idea how much strength you gave me with that touch and how much courage to keep going. I wanted you to know everything that I had been through. It was the only way to know if you would stay and not leave me alone. I was terrified but prepared to fight this feeling of loneliness again.

You kissed me.

I get butterflies only from thinking of it, of our first kiss.  Your lips covered mine and our tongues met for the first time exploring each other. Your hands held my cheeks and pulled me closer to you, giving me the warmth I was lacking for years. My hands shaking touched yours after a long time not wanting to let them go and the sensation drove me insane. My heart was exploding inside my chest, my blood was running through my veins faster that lightning, my brain was hurting from the situation and was wondering if this was actually true. I pulled away and opened my eyes. I found yours shut your lips pressed to one another. I thought that you regretted this, that it was stupid and that I seduced you to do this. Your half smiled then showed up, my heart skipped a beat, and you said that this was better than your imagination.  My inner child raised from deep down myself. I wanted to jump around, laugh and shout, kiss you again, hold you, hug you, feel you.

Days, months passed away and you stood by my side, making me the happiest person alive. I only had to listen to your voice and everything bad disappeared within a second. It's like you have that superpower to fight the dark inside me so easily. I admired you and still do to this day. I love how you push your problems to the side and listen to mine, it sounds selfish right? I'm always here to listen to you baby not matter what and yes there were times you opened up to me. I wondered if I helped you or not.

"My love.."Tom laughed and grabbed the other piece of paper from the table."..you always do" he mumbled.

But I wish you shared your problems more. I am willing to help you or even just listen to you if you just want to get rid of anything. You are a strong man but sharing your feelings is important, you are not bothering me you know.

Can you recall our first time? Damn I would never forget that, from the way you touched every single inch of my skin to the way I felt at the end. Your kisses and hands got me to placed I had never been before, so dreamy. You whispered to me how much you loved me and how i changed you to becoming a better person. I remember every of your words and I can still your voice clearly next to my ear as our bodies move in sync. You were my first.

If you only knew how much you mean to me. How my view for the world changed because of you. How I met incredible people through you. How I learnt to love, respect, share, laugh, fight, adore, live. How you teached me to finally see the colors around me. How life can be  hard, yet awesome. There are nights that we fight, we say things anger makes us too. But by the end of the day I know that I love you so much and that we can get over this. I try to remind my self every night that there are so many reasons to be happy and not sad for a foolish reason. And that's when I turn to you and open my arms for you to hug me and sleep calmly. But you are already waiting for me to do so.

This is my letter to you. I wish I could say those things to you but we both know that i get caught up by my feelings. We would have been talking for hours.

I am not going to be able to stop loving you and that's my weakness. I don't wanna see you cry or heartbroken and you make me melancholic when you are like that. If I could only make you feel the way you make me. I am not the best but I'm trying to I swear and I'll continue to do so every day till the last one.

I love you.

Sincerely yours,

y/n

He wiped away some tears that escaped his eyes and got himself up from where he was sitting to get to you. You had been waiting for him in your bedroom, with roses all around, food and a movie to watch. It wasn't any special day but you felt the need to spoil him with love. In your own way. But as the time went on you fell asleep, with the food at the bedside table and your body hugging his pillow, feeling safe.

Tom smiled at the sight of you sleeping with his pillow in your hands. His heart beat fast as he kept moving closer to you and left a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too baby" he said and kissed your lips gently. With slowly moves he tried to laid his body next to yours, hugging your waist and pulling you close to his.

It was at this moment that he realised the power you had over him and he was surprised you couldn't notice it.

"I guess I have to write it to you" he laughed at himself and closed his eyes, falling asleep a few moments later with the thought of you at his mind.

[angelsonthesideline]

Tales From the Ex-Crypt Vol. 9

Wow.. volume 9.. I'm going to wrap it up with this one because I really don't want to live in the past or think about any of these people any more. I'm happy, even if Mr HTG is still not officially mine, I only want to look forward and these crypts will be closed. There are definitely more stories than the ones I've written here.. but this is the one that people are like "NO.. that only happens in movies!"

So, I was minding my own business at work when one of my regular customers walked in with a friend. They had been at a dinner party, and started talking about winter tires, and my customer said that the friend had to come see me for tires, and proceeded to bring him in. His friend wasn't someone who really stood out to me, there was nothing remarkable to me about him. He was nice enough, mild mannered, tall, blue eyes, great smile (I'm a sucker for eyes and smiles) and we went over some tire options. I sent them on their way with the friend having his quotes in hand.

I didn't really think anything more of it, it was busy (snow) season and I was plenty busy. A week or so later, the friend comes back, he had decided on some tires and steel wheels and put his deposit down on the order. I wrote up the order, and handed him his copy, when he asked "so when do I get to see you again?" and my smart ass responded with something to the effect of when he got his tires on.

I hadn't really paid any attention to him prior to that moment, and he wasn't my "type" at all. I went home, and something kept nagging at me about him, so I sent him a text after getting his number off his order slip. This is not something I generally do, but since he'd already asked me out, I didn't feel like I was overstepping. This was also 10 years ago.

I didn't hear anything back until the Monday, when I got a profuse apology for the delay, and the excuse that he had had his phone stolen while having lunch on a patio over the weekend in a busy tourist town.

We started talking regularly, he came in and got his snow tires in the meantime, and we hung out for our first "date". He told me he was on a joint task force for terrorist threats between the FBI and CSIS and had to travel often as the supervisor of his unit. He said he would try to see me as often as possible but that it wasn't always a lot of time. I didn't mind, as I was busy and we facetimed and talked by text and phone. I never felt neglected.

We dated for a year, our relationship was amazing, we got along so well, and he made me strive to be my best self. I lost a ton of weight, was eating well, and made an appointment with my doctor to get my mental health in check.

We never had sex, we just had incredibly hot makeout sessions. I always thought it was odd that he didn't want to go any further, but he said he had had a bad experience and wanted to wait until we were married. As he was on the smaller side, I figured that had something to do with it, but I was so absolutely in love by that point it didn't really matter.

He had all sorts of pics of him in his flack in his suits, in the cars, with the guns, or just in offices. I'd get a text or call saying he was flying in and was driving to see me, but would only have about an hour or two to spend with me before he had to get back to his team and back on the road. It kept things exciting, and I loved surprise visits when he'd text me at work that he was outside.

I wanted to see him more, of course, especially as things got more intense between us. But it was always a matter of time for him. No matter how awful other things in my life were going, whenever asked how things with him were, I would immediately brighten and say they were amazing.

My anxiety was getting to a very dysfunctional level, and I was struggling hardcore to manage it. I went to the doctor, he arranged for me to begin therapy. He was supportive when I told him. This was around our 1 year together. But the next time I got to see him, I got doused with ice water, when I gifted him with an expensive watch and he told me he wanted to take our relationship back a step because of his schedule. His reason was that I was amazing and I deserved to be able to pursue someone who could give me everything he wasn't able to due to his job. I was blindsided and devastated. Because I loved him so much, and was dumb, I agreed to try. I'm an absolutely all-in or all-out type of personality, there is no grey middle ground for me. It is why I do struggle with FWB and casual arrangements, unless I have mentally steeled myself to be all-out and just enjoy the moment without feelings.

My first year of therapy and into my second was almost fully dedicated to dealing with this trauma. I have never had a break up so devastating. I am pretty sure most of the damage came from the shock, but also from the "trying" to move forward with him flitting in and out of my life instead of just cutting clean ties.

I cried a lot.. I was so stressed my cortisol levels caused my body to produce more than double the healthy level of reverse T3, completely messing up my thyroid and metabolism, I gained weight, lost energy and all the other fall out. It took me years to recover, and moving to NS and stumbling upon a doctor who treated the thyroid issues (which seem to be back in working order now after some thyroid hormone therapy).

I have never ever let someone have so much impact on my life, and the only reason I can ever explain it with was just the depth of love I had for this man. I don't even know why or what sucked me in, beyond his confidence and charm. He was one of the many devil Aquarius that I dated, always trying to prove the zodiac/astrology stuff was absolutely wrong (because I am generally SO drawn to Aquarius and have dated that sign more than any other). The zodiac definitely kicked my ass with Aquarius to show me that I fucked around and found out the hard way for sure.

We did the on and off/casual thing for 6 months before it was too toxic and messed me up too badly and I cut him off. It was about 6 months later he crawled back, and we tried it again for about another 6 months before I broke again and cut him off permanently.

I tried to not think of him, and started trying to move on with dating. My longterm ex and I had become gaming friends again by this point, in a mostly healthy and functional way. He had asked me to get an app called Voxter so he could send me voice messages (pre-imsg) and I had. You have to make an account to use Voxter though, and then the app itself didn't pick up my soft voice so I deleted it. But the account remained.

One day, I get an email that I have a new suggested contact/friend on Voxter. I open the email, and low and behold, it is Mr Aquarius Devil... and I'm like "hmm.. I don't have any of his new contact information in my phone" so I go to my computer and open my gmail.. start typing in his name and up pops this picture:

The fucker was MARRIED... and had a KID.

I will say, that was the BEST closure ever.. I was INSTANTLY over his ass instead of lamenting WHY it hadn't worked and what I had possibly done wrong. What I had done wrong, was fall for a fucking dirtbag.

Now, I work with the public.. and I had lots of regular customers that would ask me how I was and what was going on with me, and share what was going on with them. I was angry, and I showed a few of them this pic and was like "look at this fucker, he has a WIFE and KID" and I think it got back to him.

Two weeks after I stumbled upon this picture on his gmail, I got a full confessional email from him.

Turns out, he had been married for 12 years, and his son was 7 at the time I found out. Not only that, but he wasn't in law enforcement, HE WAS A PASTOR.. He had also gotten busted for sleeping with two women in his congregation, and fooling around with two others. He had lost his congregation and his church was sending him out west to some rehab. His wife was staying with him, and moving out there with him. He basically said it was all a lie (everything) and that his therapist said he had to write apology letters and explain himself to his victims (like myself). He said it was an ego trip to compensate for low self esteem. So basically, I was just an ego boosting toy for him.

A year later, I received a random text message from a southern Alberta phone number. I am guessing it was his wife, as all it said was "Have you been in contact with J***?" and I was like "J*** who?" and never heard anything ever again. But I am sure he was already back to his old tricks.

[lynn-does-stuff]

Hanahaki

An Afterdeath Oneshot

—————

Hanahaki

Hana- flowers

Hakimasu- To throw up

A Japanese myth disease that claimed if a person were to hide their feelings towards someone for too long, flowers would begin to grow in their lungs. They would then throw up/ cough up the flowers, starting with only a few petals until it got to large amounts of full flowers. By the time it reaches full flowers there would be little time left until they would die. There was no cure, other than the victim feeling loved in a romantic way by their crush. If the victim expressed their feelings and the other declined, the process would instantly speed up and would die in minutes. The victim can also choose to have the flowers removed through surgery, though many choose to suffer through it, due to the fact that the removal of the flowers often caused them to lose all feelings towards their crush. Sometimes it would completely erase any memories about their crush all together, or even erase any ability to love again.

————

Reaper floated carelessly into the Save Screen, home of the infamous "immortal" skeleton. The resident of this empty space was supposed to die a long time ago, but had somehow escaped DEATH itself. And when Reaper went to the Save Screen personally to dispose of him, he was shocked to find the character didn't dust after making physical contact with him. Reaper had never met a being that didn't die by his touch, so he was genuinely surprised, and almost hopeful. Maybe he could finally have someone close to him that he could do normal things with, instead of simply standing to the side and looking awkward.

Ah yes.. Geno..

Geno was the resident of this empty space. When Reaper found he couldn't kill Geno, he immediately decided to try and warm up the the glitched skeleton. He then proceeded to get a smack on the face and a stern lecture about how you shouldn't try to befriend the person you were just trying to kill.

That's what Reaper liked so much about Geno. His Tsundere attitude, his pouting, and of course, his overly bossy tone. And they did become friends. Good friends even. But.. Reaper wanted more. He really wanted more. But there was no way he could flat out tell Geno. That would just make their friendship incredibly awkward, and possibly even ruin it. Better to just stick with the simple flirting and frequent compliments.

This had been going on for about nine months..

Reaper's eyes widened as he saw Geno sitting in his usual spot, the area of grass and flowers, and then grinned at the evil idea forming in his head. He floated up silently behind Geno and took a breath, before exclaiming in a loud voice. "Heeeeeya Geno!"

Geno whipped his head around, eye flare burning, as he smacked Reaper across the face. He then realized who it was and diminished his eye flare and menacing look and instead equipped a more annoyed face.

"Reaper you idiot! Don't sneak up on me like that! My soul is weak enough as it is, I don't need jump scares like that to give me a soul attack!"

Reaper simply rubbed his face and chuckled, though he felt a small pain in his chest. It was short and quick, so he waved it aside as side effects of floating for too long. He slowly touched the ground in front of Geno and grinned.

"Good to see you too beautiful."

Geno frowned. "Again with the flirting? Come on, it gets old after a while. And it's not funny either!" Geno huffed and turned away, causing Reaper to laugh.

Reaper walked next to Geno and sat down. His friend reluctantly followed and sat next to him as well. Reaper looked over at Geno, taking in all of his features. His rounder cheeks, the glitches that covered his eye, the extremely faint red tint that was always on his face, there was so much to look at, Reaper soon found himself lost in his eyes. Geno soon glanced over and made eye contact with Reaper, causing him to frown again. "It's rude to stare you know!"

Reaper blushed slightly and turned his head away. There was that pang again. This one seemed slightly worse however. And it only softened, it didn't completely go away.

Reaper frowned at the sudden pain, losing his usual carefree grin. Geno looked over and noticed this. "What, can't take criticism? Jeez, your ego is immense."

Reaper felt the pain suddenly grow as he winced, but it soon toned down again. He replaced his frown with his usual grin and winked as he looked over at Geno. "Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

Reaper was going to reply with a quick nothing, but he soon realized he could be flirty and possibly get his point across at the same time.

"You~"

Geno just got an angry look as he blushed slightly, before replying in a quite upset manner.

"Well stop thinking about me! It's weird! And dumb! Especially when there's so many other things to think about!"

Weird.

Dumb.

Geno thinks I'm weird and dumb..

Reaper suddenly burst out into a coughing fit. Geno scrambled away from him, yelling something along the lines of "Don't infect me with your stupid virus you weirdo". Reaper continued to cough until a singular golden petal fell from his mouth. His eyes widened as he quickly scrambled to grab it and shove it into his robe pocket. Geno hadn't seemed to notice.

"Are you very much done? I'd like to make sure I don't get the idiot virus."

Reaper's body suddenly went rigid as he slowly stood up. He coughed slightly before turning to Geno.

"Uh, sorry Geno, but I gotta go earlier today. My brother wanted help, and I've been putting off work for too long."

Geno looked surprised before going to his usual strict face. "Well, I don't remember inviting you, so you don't have to feel bad about leaving."

Reaper's chest felt like it was on fire.

He turned away and opened a portal to his AU, walking through, something he rarely does.

When he entered his room, he immediately sunk to the floor. He trembled slightly as his eye sockets widened.

"Oh god.. what am I gonna do?.."

————

It was about four days until Reaper visited Geno again, which was very out of character for his usual daily, sometimes even quick hourly visits. He casually floated into the Save Screen once more, though this time feeling slightly anxious. When he saw Geno sitting in the patch of flowers, he felt his soul flutter as he rushed to get closer. He was about to make the same entrance as the other day, but remembered how that went and decided to silently plop down next to Geno.

Geno was so lost in though that he didn't even realize Reaper arrived. But when he suddenly looked up and saw him sitting next to him, he yelped and jumped back a little. He then took on a confused yet strict face.

"Who are you and what have you done with Reaper?"

Reaper was a little confused by his statement. "I'm me?"

"No idiot! Reaper would've come here days ago, and proceeded to either scare me or flirt with me every time he arrived!"

Reaper was a bit taken aback by what he said, but simply grinned. "Well, what I did today scared ya, didn't it?"

Geno huffed and simply turned away, crossing his arms and muttering something along the lines of "stupid" and "no it didn't".

Reaper laughed but soon started choking and coughing once more. Again, Geno stepped away, but there was a slight flint of worry in his eyes.

"What's wrong asshole, something caught in you throat?"

Reaper continued his coughing fit for a while until three golden petals fell from his mouth. He quickly scooped them up and shoved them in his pocket, but too late. Geno noticed.

"Ew, flower petals? What were you doing, shoving those things up your throat?"

Reaper turned his head to Geno with a slightly panicked look in his eyes. "It's nothing."

"That wasn't the question dumbass."

"O-oh, right. Uhm.. yeah! I saw those flowers and thought it would be a good idea to eat some!"

Geno simply stared at Reaper with an unamused look before walking away. Reaper panicked, this is not going how he thought it would.

"Geno wait!" He called out, his voice sounding slightly weaker than before. He quickly stood up and followed behind Geno.

"I'm ignoring unintelligible beings who decide that shoving flowers up their throats is a perfect way to waste time at the moment, thank you."

Reaper continued to follow behind Geno, the pain in his chest increasing every second he was ignored.

Unloved..

Reaper suddenly stopped at his realization.

Geno doesn't love him. He never will. It's all simply a fantasy of hope and lies. Geno's made it quite obvious after all. How many times had he been called "dumbass", "idiot", "weirdo", "dickhead", and "asshole" in just the past month? It was obvious.

Reaper suddenly broke down into another fit of coughing, suddenly falling to his knees. He felt weak, incredibly weak. And the coughing wouldn't stop. Geno whipped his head around and rushed back to Reaper, now very worried for his friend.

"H-hey, are you good? Snap outta it Reaper!"

Geno started patting Reaper's back in an attempt to stop the coughing, but Reaper misunderstood it as more of Geno's slaps and coughed even more. It wasn't until a fistful of petals fell from his mouth that he stopped. Geno looked at Reaper with a cautious, yet judging look.

"Uh, that seems to be more than a few flowers shoved up your esophagus."

Reaper replied quickly in a dark tone, though his voice seemed somewhat strained. "N-no shit Sherlock."

Geno's eyes widened slightly. Reaper never talked like that to him. Now he knew something was up.

"What the hell is wrong with you Reaper?! You never act like this! What did you do?!"

Reaper just stared to the floor with empty eyes. He quickly spat out a few remaining flowers in his mouth and stood up. He kicked the petals aside and turned away. Geno watched as Reaper simply stood there for a few moments. Suddenly, Reaper seemed to look around frantically and stare at his hands. He kept bouncing up and down on his feet before eventually going on to full on jumping.

"Now what are you doing?" Geno gave him a questioning look. Reaper immediately stopped and whipped his head around, a panicked look plastered on his face.

"I can't float! I can't get off the ground!"

Geno was a little stricken before finding a way to get back at Reaper for all the teasing.

"Oh, well it looks like you'll have to walk like the rest of us mortals and deal with the inability to have god-like powers."

Reaper winced before bringing up his hand. Suddenly he seemed even more panicked. He waved his hand around, opened his eyes extremely wide like one does when their eye flares, and held out his hands like he was trying to grab something.

"I can't do anything!!"

Now Geno was worried. "What?.."

Reaper started yelling. "I can't summon my attacks, I can't summon my scythe, I can't activate my eye flare, I can't even teleport out of here!!"

Reaper suddenly broke down to the floor and stared at his hands. He spoke in a small, weak voice that seemed extremely strained. "I'm weak.. I'm powerless... I-I can't do anything..."

Geno suddenly rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Reaper. "H-hey, it's okay, it'll be fine!-"

"How could you still care..."

Geno suddenly sat up and stared at Reaper. "What do you mean?"

Reaper replied with a shaky, hesitant voice. "How could you still care for me... you've made it clear..."

"Stop the stupid mind games Reaper! Just tell me what's fucking wrong!"

"YOU HATE ME!"

Reaper began hacking up full flowers, chocking between breaths. The flowers continued to fall around them and in their laps as Reaper shook uncontrollably. "G-Gen-no-"

Geno backed away in horror at the scene. His eyes shrunk to small pinpricks as he took a shaky breath.

"W-what's happening to you R-Reaper?.."

Reaper chocked our words between coughs. "H-hana-ha-haki-!" Reaper coughed up another fistful of flowers.

Hanahaki... The name was familiar to Geno, but he couldn't seem to place it. "What the hell is Hanahaki?!"

Reaper's eyes went wide as the burning sensation returned in his chest, worse than ever. He knew.

He was out of time.

Reaper didn't want to do this, not like this, but he knew he had no choice. If he didn't, he would die.

"G-Geno!" Reaper choked out between flowers and coughs. "I-I l-love you!"

Geno's eyes went wide as blush dusted across his face. He loves me... Suddenly knowledge came flooding back to him. Hanahaki: The disease where people throw up flowers. The only cure is from the crush to show affection and show their love back.

His blush increased. Did he love Reaper?.. He enjoyed Reaper's company, and he hated it when he was feeling down and always wanted to make him feel better..

Geno was suddenly cut out of his thoughts when a shaky hand reached up towards his face. The words were small, shaky, and almost inaudible. "Please.."

Geno felt the pang in his chest. He gave in. He pushed away all doubts in his mind and pulled Reaper's face to his, closing the gap. He kissed him with all his might, allowing some magic to be forced in the kiss, truly expressing how much he cared. He wanted, no, he needed Reaper to know. He didn't care about the flowers, he just wanted to share this passionate moment.

When they finally pulled away after what seemed like eons, they stared into each other's eyes passionately, glimmering with love and happiness. Reaper stared in awe.

"Y-you.. you really.."

Geno smiled warmly at Reaper. "Yeah, I suppose you're not that much of a dork." Reaper shakily smiled with tears in his eyes before suddenly turning away and began coughing again. Geno panicked and gingerly wrapped his arms around Reaper.

"D-did it not work! I-I'm so sorry Reaper!!"

Reaper continued coughing, but they didn't seem so violent this time. He continued coughing until dead flowers fell from his mouth, and eventually the source of the disease itself- the dead plant. When the dead plant finally fell from his mouth, Reaper put a hand on his throat and looked up weakly with a smile.

"I'm cured.."

—————

Word Count: 2466

Eeeeeeeee I forgot about this thing so take my awful writing okay bye-

[sendnotes]

books i read in april.

this is going to be my thing from now on. i'll compile a list of all the books i read in a month and share my thoughts on each one every end of the month.

just so you know, i'm a little forgetful, and i have a tendency to forget names, plots, and other details. i'm hoping that writing these will aid my memory in recalling how i felt about each novel.

you can also find me on goodreads

so, let’s begin, shall we?

101 essays that will change the way you think (wiest, brianna)

self-help book

this book got off to a good start! some of the essays written (or should i say a collection of articles originally published on the thoughtcatalog website) made me think and consider my outlook on life, love, and so on.

the title overstates the case though. when i think of an essay, i picture something more argumentative and philosophical. not to mention that the majority of the ideas in this book are redundant. it made it difficult to get through. nonetheless, i was able to get past it because there were so many fantastic concepts and topics discussed.

overall, it's an interesting & worthwhile read for those who enjoy thinking outside the box.i lost count of how many times this book gave me aha moments. i swear, most of the entries soothed my mind and provided a great pick-me-up when life seemed to be frustrating.

the midnight library (haig, matt)

science fiction, fantasy fiction, psychological fiction

regrets, self-remorse, what ifs, family approval, drugs, dreams, love, passion, hatred, death, afterlife, multiverses, quantum physics, and a plethora of possibilities packed into a 304-page book.

i'll be honest: this book is already on my list of favorites. i'm simply blown away by how well-crafted and diverse the entire story unfolded.

a sci-fi novel with a dash of fantasy and a smidgeon of philosophy. if that's your thing, you should give this book a shot.

the first few pages of the book gave me an impression and led me to surmise it was going to be a cheesy ass chick lit novel that i'd only read and find enjoyable in high school. i was completely off base. it proved to be very mature, full of lessons, but delivered in a fun and entertaining manner— exactly my cup of tea.

it reminded me of a disney pixar film called soul, in which the afterlife is depicted in vivid detail. they differ on so many levels, but they both imagine life after death for people who are unsure of their path, purpose, and passion.

every chapter served a significant concept, so this book is well-deserved of a 5-star rating!

norwegian wood (murakami, haruki)

fiction, romance novel, bildungsroman

as i read the book and neared the end, all i could think about was how this book became one of murakami's most popular and influential works.

murakami offers a sprawling glimpse into the lives of a group of severely damaged youths grappling with the realities of what emptiness entails. take what you will from it.

i know a lot of people like it, which is fine. but please keep in mind that this book hit me square in the gut. it alternated between making me angry, sad, annoyed, and disgusted almost constantly. there isn't much else.

this book should come with a warning: "this is not a good place to start if you're new to murakami's works. this is not a representative of murakami's brilliance."

fist and foremost, the characters in this book are all repulsive.

toru watanabe was a fuckboy and a softboy rolled into one. what could possibly be worse than that? he'd have as many casual sexual partners as he could while also buttering a girl up by appealing to her emotions and displaying a "sensitive" and "vulnerable" side.

this book was made even more depressing by the fact that each female character was needy, weak, dysfunctional, and dependent. since they're all the same, i'm not going to go over each of these female characters one by one. you already get the idea.

reiko ishida, imo, was one of the best rendered sections of the novel. most likely because she had a better grasp on her emotions and goals than the still seeking youths... until, *spoiler alert* she wanted to do it with toru as well. a big disappointment.

to summarize, this book is primarily concerned with two topics: sex and death.

hidden meanings are everywhere, but when you get to the core, that's all that remains.

the four agreements: a practical guide to personal freedom (ruiz, miguel)

self-help book

first agreement ⏤ be impeccable with your word

this essentially means that you should not spew gossip or use words to harm others. because words have tremendous power and can cause significant harm. you are not only negatively affecting others with your hateful and thoughtless words, but you are also hurting yourself. this is something with which i generally agree. how i see it, when people are unhappy with themselves, they turn to others to make themselves feel better. as a result, they gossip about others in order to divert attention away from themselves.

second agreement ⏤don't take anything personally

alright. sure. don't let what others say about you bother you. it has everything to do with them and nothing to do with you. well, i don't entirely agree, but i think it's a fantastic idea in general. however, achieving this goal will be extremely difficult. i believe it would take a lot of practice to reach this level of zen. plus, i honestly believe that other people's opinions still matter because they keep you in check. the best advice is to not be swayed by these opinions, but to consider why they were expressed in the first place. see what you can do to improve yourself from there. sure, it can be difficult to deal with; after all, no one likes being told they're wrong or whatnot. but it's not all bad news because you can sometimes use criticism and judgment to give you a competitive edge. i mean- don't you think hearing someone else's point of view is also an opportunity to learn and progress? ruiz should have stressed that it's not just about "not taking it personally because you know you're not that person," but also about not retaliating with an extreme knee-jerk reaction even if you believe you're being unfairly criticized.

third agreement ⏤ don't make assumptions

this is a real eye-opener for me. i've noticed that whenever i become enraged by someone's words, it's usually due to my tendency to assume. personally, i can't help but make assumptions. i don't know what other people's motivations are, and i can't help but draw conclusions based on the information i have. even if the other person had no intention of causing me harm, it's too late. the thought has become ingrained in my mind, and i never ask for clarification out of pride or fear of appearing overly sensitive.

fourth agreement ⏤ always do your best

this section did not seem particularly useful to me. i mean, aren't we all reminded of this all the time? this section is filled with sloppy writing, in my opinion. as if he badly wanted to finish the book and impulsively thought: "okay, fourth agreement: always do your best. that should suffice. lmao"

overall opinion: the third agreement was my favorite, but the rest were a no-go. don't get me wrong, i appreciated his ideas, but i've heard them all a hundred times before. basically, the book's sole takeaway is that we are all suffering in some way in our daily lives, and we are all dealing with different issues. regardless, we all need to be kinder and gentler to ourselves and others.

the song of achilles (miller, madeline)

romance novel, historical Fiction, war story

i'll keep it short and sweet:

i really wouldn't have had this book any other way. miller's writing is breathtaking, so rich and full of lovely detail. it's incredibly a unique concept to me that authors are rewriting such ancient history and stories to make them lgbt+!

some suggest it's tedious, but i disagree. it isn't slow; rather, it is just right.

'cause at the end of the day, it's not about war, tragedy, or heroes - it's a slow-burning, organic love tale between two young men and their inevitable connection.

it's sad, tender, and painful, but in the best way possible.

circe (miller, madeline)

novel, historical fiction, fantasy fiction

"greek mythology, but with a feminist twist"?! sign me the hell up! this piqued my interest... only to leave me feeling completely let down. seriously now. circe was described as a "badass empowered woman," which was the single most compelling selling point for me, and thus the most wrenching disappointment, i must say.

sure, it demonstrated the value of feminine power, but it also did represent how this power can be a force of good or evil.

not to mention the fact that circe fucked a married man or two in this book- i mean- how is that an ~empowered woman~?

let's be clear right off the bat: madeline miller's follow-up to the song of achilles is epic in scope but not necessarily in execution. to me, this read more like a tedious island tale. regardless of how many five-star reviews this book has received... i just don't think it's well-deserved. don't get me wrong here. miller is a fantastic author with a lush writing! istg- i'm blown away by how beautifully she wrote and carefully chose her words. even the most mundane phrases were written poetically. after-all, it’s greek mythology. but how did she manage to make circe seem so... bland?

[nekomapi]

chp 1 🎶 a light in your eyes that keeps shining

Shouto stared at the keys in front of him; the black and white rectangles blurred together as he spaced out. He had been running this piece all afternoon and he couldn't be more bored with it if he tried. Each time sounded just as good as the last, but he kept on practicing- leaving no room for the possibility of error. Less errors meant less scolding from his father.

His instructor didn't have any clients this afternoon and told him he could use the piano for as long as he wanted. He took lessons here twice a week when his father had other obligations and couldn't supervise, which also meant he never had much time for himself. Luckily, these two days were such a breath of fresh air from the usual routine that he always looked forward to them.

He let out a heavy sigh as he stretched his fingers and his arms. It was so peaceful; the warm sunlight pouring through the windows, golden hues illuminating the shiny surface of the grand piano. The whole room bathed in incredible warmth, something his house felt completely devoid of.

He couldn't remember how long he had been sitting there, but it felt like hours. He yawned as he glanced at the clock, his eyes slowly trailing over to the mahogany drum set that stared at him from the corner of the room. He had looked at it longingly for about 6 months, ever since he started his lessons here. There were so many different components and they seemed so complex, like a different world he was unaware of.

His curiosity itched to no end and he finally gathered the courage to walk over to it, grazing the drumhead with his fingers as he sat on the stool. His teacher had gone on an errand and he knew she wouldn't be back for a little while. Picking up the black wooden drumsticks, he started tapping gently on each piece to test the different noises they each made. After a few minutes of self-containment, he couldn’t help but let loose. He banged the different sized drums, smashed the symbols and kicked the bass pedal intermittently, with no direction and no sheet music to follow along with. It was the most exhilarated he had felt in a long time. He played with such enthusiasm that sweat started to accumulate on his brow as he lashed about without a care in the world. He didn't notice this rarity himself, but throughout his messy performance, his face was plastered with a playful grin. His focus shifted upwards as his eye caught a glimpse of a figure and he jumped up, almost tripping over the bass drum. A young girl was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed and a smirk playing at her features. She couldn't help but find his clumsiness amusing.

Locking on her gaze, he instantly recognized her from the family photos on his teacher's desk. It was her daughter and he didn't know much about her, besides the few details she had mentioned to him in the past. Apparently she was exceptionally talented in multiple instruments and attended a very esteemed music academy in the city. The way she always beamed when she spoke of her, made it obvious how proud she was, and that shamefully always stung him. The only pride ever displayed from his father never felt out of love and his mother, well she was a different story.

"I... I'm sorry I uh...shouldn't have-"

She interrupted mid-sentence, holding up her hand and walking towards him, "Don't apologize! I'm the one who should apologize for startling you during your performance." She smiled and jokingly added," I'm going to guess that was your first time playing? If not, well then my mother might have lost her touch."

"That was the first time." He stood up straighter, trying to play off his embarrassment by transitioning into his usual stoic gaze. "I was just... curious is all."

"Ah. Well I have to say, you look good back there."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his cheeks feeling hot as he put down the drumsticks and started to back away from the drum set.

"Whoa, not so fast." She was at his side quickly and pushed him back towards the seat. He looked at her, confusion written on his face as he sat back down. She picked up the drumsticks, effortlessly twirling one around in her fingers. "Consider this your first lesson." Something about her made him feel at ease and he couldn't think of an excuse to refuse. He nodded in agreement and she grinned.

She didn't waste any time before naming each component and explaining the proper technique and form, including fixing the way he held the drumsticks. He admired how she spoke with such emotion, using her hands when trying to emphasize her opinion and the way her eyes lit up when she rambled on about what aspects she thought were the most important in order to be a good musician. It wasn't just her bright green eyes or that faint smell of gardenia that reminded him of her mother, but it was that burning passion towards music which was so evident in their words and motions. He longed to have that kind of burning emotion towards it as well. He soaked in every word, not wanting to forget a single thing she said--- or how her hair glistened against her smooth, freckled skin.

After going over the basics for about twenty minutes, she demonstrated a few basic drum beats. Once she ran through them a few times, she handed him back the drumsticks, gesturing for him to try. He followed her instruction, recreating the beat under her guidance. It wasn't hard for him to catch on. She stood back and watched as he seemed to effortlessly repeated the sample over and over, even adding in little changes while increasing the tempo each time. It was wildly impressive and after a few minutes, she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?'

"Go ahead," he responded, still focused on keeping a beat.

"Do you actually enjoy playing piano?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well, I heard you playing Einaudi earlier, many times through I might add. And don’t get me wrong... you play wonderfully! Probably with some of the best form I've ever heard from someone our age. It's just... it sounded a bit— robotic, or like it wasn’t coming from the heart." She pushed herself off the wall and walked to the other side of the drum set. "Listening to you play just now, and before when I came in and interrupted you, something just feels different. It's like I could finally hear you in it."

"But you've only just met me..." he stated bluntly. "How could you know something like that?" There was no doubt that he was experiencing a bit of freedom in himself today, but her analysis suddenly had him feeling a little exposed and embarrassed. These unexpected emotions were new to him.

"I'm sorry... it was just a feeling I had. I didn't mean to pry." She fell silent for a moment, having felt slightly bad for how he reacted. She chuckled in hopes to lighten the mood. "I guess with that rad hair you just totally have that whole badass drummer vibe going on." She leaned back, framing his face with her fingers and staring at him through the opening. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be the next John Bonham."

"John Bonham?"

She gestured towards a framed record on the wall behind him, feeling thankful to change the subject. "Only one of the best drummers to ever grace the face of the earth." She walked over to her backpack and pulled out her phone, unraveling the headphones wrapped around it. She tapped on the screen a few times and then handed it over to him.

His tone was quizzical as he read off the name, "Fool in the Rain by ...Led Zeppelin?"

"Have you really never heard of them?"

Shouto shook his head and her mouth dropped.

"Alright well... take it all in buddy," she motioned towards the ear buds.

He put them in his ears, pressed play and stared down at the phone as the song started. It didn’t take long for him to be hooked, zoning in on the drums and how they effortlessly worked with the other instruments to form the melody. His head started to move with the beat, following along with its rhythm. He could identify the specific sounds of each component he had learned. It's like something clicked and he understood when she had said that a good drummer can make all the difference to how the song comes together. It was the first time he had actually "heard" a piece of music. Don't get him wrong, he knew the piano could be an incredibly moving instrument, but nothing had ever spoken to him personally like this. The song was about halfway through when it suddenly paused.

"Uh, someone named ... Boomer is calling." He handed her the phone.

"Oh!" she said, glancing up at the clock as she scrambled to answer.

‘What kind of name is Boomer?’ he thought.

"Hey! Sorry if you've been waiting, I lost track of time. I'll head over n--- ....I SAID I WAS SORRY....... It's none of your business ya punk! Just chill out, I'll be there soon!" She groaned in annoyance and ended the call, "I gotta go."

She walked to where a few guitars hung on the wall and took down a black and white Gibson, placing it in the case that was on the floor beneath it.

"You play guitar too?" Shouto asked. He wasn't really surprised as his teacher had already told him in the past that she played multiple instruments. He didn't know why but for some reason he wanted to continue being in her company for just a little longer.

"Among other things, yeah. I get bored if I stick to one thing for too long."

"Dividing your efforts into multiple instruments has to make mastering one pretty difficult," he stated matter of factly.

"I think you and I may look at music a little differently. I don't play an instrument with the need to master it. I play because of how it makes me feel. I let the instrument guide me where it needs to go, not the other way around. I guess, I just don't see the point in doing something if it doesn't set my soul on fire, ya know?" She zipped up the guitar bag and walked back towards him, holding out her hand. "I'm Ronnie by the way."

He walked around the drum set and shook it. "Todoroki, Shouto." She was staring at him intensely, making him shift uncomfortably. "What is it?" he asked a bit harshly, feeling conscious about his scar.

"Oh! Sorry- ha! I was just admiring that rockstar hair of yours again." She flashed him a rock and roll sign, though he didn't understand the gesture. It wasn't just the hair that had her mesmerized, but the smooth, burned skin around his eye. She felt sad that she found it so beautiful, without knowing what kind of pain was behind it.

"Thanks? I guess." He looked away, putting his hands in his pockets.

She smiled. "It kind of reminds me of Christmas morning." He looked back at her, his cheeks feeling warm again.

"Well, I guess I'll see ya around, Shouto."

His mouth went a bit dry at the familiarity and he nodded. "Yeah. See ya."

She turned and walked out of the room. He listened as the front door opened, feeling an odd knot in his stomach as it closed. He grasped at the sensation over his shirt and went over to sit back down at the piano. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly this feeling was, but it had made him feel SOMETHING, so he relished in it. Grabbing his phone from out of his pocket, he opened up Apple Music and typed in a song. He closed his eyes, his lips twitching up slightly as "Fool in the Rain" started to play through the speakers.

_________________________

♫ music selection ♫

Ludovico Einaudi - Nuvole Bianche

Led Zeppelin - Fool in the Rain

this was the first chapter of my abandoned BNHA music AU (+ a few HQ!! crossovers)... but i think it works as a cute standalone piece. recently been debating on resurrecting this fic or just using the existing material for hcs or scenarios... hmmm 🤔

xo n.pi

[ask-ivory]

Chapter one: Welcome to Shade

Those hunk muffins earned it! I don't care what they thought. If they were so worried about their little dust company, then I would have sided with the Schnees.

"I'm done with dust." I told my stepfather, as we parted ways, "I want to be a huntress; a hero. And nothing is going to stop me!"

Those days were far behind me. Weeks of prepping and training were way in the past. I had passed the entrance exam, my real parents filled out the paperwork, my documents were handed in and I was on an airship bound for Shade Academy, in Vacuo.

My bags were packed the previous night (courtesy of my sand servents). I had barely slept last night, because questions like "what is Shade gonna be like?", "Who will be on my team?", "How many friends will I make?", And many more floated in my head. Now I was actually going there, flying at a hundred miles an hour towards my dream come true.

I wasn't the only one here on this airship. A hundred people, at least my age or older, were here on this airship with me. The Vacuo news was on the screen systems near the windows, (probably to keep the passengers from getting bored, because if so, things tend to get pretty ugly). The news was announcing the latest robberies from the technical laboratories in Vacuo. Normally the news doesn't really interest me, but now that I'm training, I'm beginning to wonder if a huntress fought more then just the Creatures of Grimm. If so, then I would also stop crime.

"Focus on the task at hand," I told myself, "Train and prepare to be a huntress first, fight evil Grimm and other junk like that later."

I gazed out the window, thinking about my brother Basin. He was already at the academy, starting on his third year. He told me about how great Shade Academy is, and sent me pictures of the school.

He also sent me pictures of his team, Team BLCK (Pronounced Black), and told me about each teammate. On his team, he had a pair of fox faunus twins, whose names were Larry and Kerry Steel (get it? Steal? Steel? I just got that). He also had a another guy named Cade Blackstone. All of them were the same age and followed in Basin's leadership (well, most of the time anyway).

He even snuck some pictures of his classes that he had attended in his first and second years (spoiler alert, he got into detention for that, but with a semblance like his, that rarely happened).

Anyway, before the day came to move here, I looked at the pictures over and over again, memorizing the school grounds, my brother's teammates (just in case they decided to kill me with pranks), and teachers' mad faces when they caught Basin taking illegal pictures in class (heh heh).

I thought about pulling my scroll out again to look at the pictures again, but then the news shut off on the screens and a holographic image of a woman appeared. She was tall with long black hair. Her bare arms were adorn with golden bracelets and she wore a sleeveless dress that faded with purple to blue at the waist, all the way down to green at the bottom. In her hair was a golden headset, decorated with peacock feathers. She had a pair of, what looked like fans, strapped to her golden belt. She had golden high heels that were so ridiculously high that she looked like she had ballerina slippers on. Her face was beautiful but in a harsh mother-knows-best-now-don't-cross-my-path-or-i-will-have-to-step-on-you, kind of way. She wore blue eyeshadow, which matched her eyes.

"Welcome back all returning students and greetings to our new first year students." Her voice sounded stern, like she had spent her free time yelling at bad puppies. "I am Professor Hera Peacock, your combat trainer for this year. You are all very privileged to be attending this excellent institution. The world of Remnant is moving at an incredible length of pace, maintaining it's peace and prosperity. As future hunters, your training here will be vital to your future career. I wish you the best of luck"(I don't think she meant this part)" and welcome again to Shade Academy." The hologram turned off after finishing the welcome speech.

I looked out the window to find that the airship was just yards away from the landing docks. I ran to get my bags, but I bumped into someone.

"Ow!" I exclaimed.

"Ohff!" My accident responded. We both fell backwards.

"Sorry." I apologized, getting up, "I'm soo-" then my voice left me speechless. The girl I bumped into stood up.

The girl wore a sleeveless dress that started at gold and faded to orange and ended with blue. The dress itself was short at the knees. Her hair matched her dress, but only matched to the fading orange part. She wore a black belt, with pouches for dust on the side, and a pair of golden swords, that appeared to be folded in half, were attached to the back. She wore dark blue shoes with star patterns on them. Her eyes were a light crystal blue. But her wings were the thing that unnerved me.

On her back was a blinding white pair of wings. She was definitely a faunus, but she was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. In the few months that I lived in Vacuo, I had seen faunus of all types and traits: everything from ram's horns to lizard's tails. I had only heard of faunus with wings from the stories my father told me, the tales of the Great War. One of the things he said was that after the Siege of Vacuo, the winged faunus who fought with Vacuo just left and never returned. I heard people say that the chances of a faunus born with wings were pretty rare.

But here I was. And here she was.

"You can stop starring now." the girl said. "Just please, don't make any jokes."

"Oh no!" I protested "I wasn't planning on making jokes about your wings. It's just, I've never seen anything like this before. Their beautiful."

The girl seemed to brighten up at this comment, "You really think so?"

"Of course! I heard that having wings is a really rare trait. I've never seen it in person before."

"Yeah..." the girl muttered "That's what everyone thinks. Their not exactly right though...."

"Wait. What?"

"Nothing." the girl held out her hand. "I'm Lyra by the way. Lyra Phoebus."

"And I'm Aliar Ivory." We shoke hands.

"Oh!" Lyra exclaimed,"you are a first year student, are you?"

"Of course." I responded. "I'm so excited to start the year. But..." I hesitated "I'm also kinda nervous too. Even though my brother told me what Shade Academy's like, I still don't know what to expect."

"Is your brother a huntsman?"

"No, he's a third year. His name is Basin Obsidian, and he's the leader of team BLCK." I pulled my scroll out of my purse. "I've got pictures of him and his team. And..." I added with a smile, "He managed to sneak some pictures of the classes we'll be attending. Wanna see?"

She was about to respond when the speakers overhead turned on, "Attention students, we are about to land. Please bring all personal belongings with you as you leave the airship. Another reminder to reclaim your baggage and suitcases before you enter the school. For returning students, please meet up with your team leaders and move your things to your assigned dorms. For first years, once you have retrieved your items, please drop them off at the Great Hall. All students will meet in the auditorium for the ordination speech in eighty minutes. Welcome to Shade Academy."

People started flocking towards the exit. I could feel the ship landing slowly under my feet.

"Come on!" Lyra grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the door,"The pictures can wait. We're about to see the real thing!"

She dragged me out the door into the golden sun. The cool atmosphere of the airship turned to scorching desert heat in a heartbeat. Momentarily, I was binded by the shinning rays of the sun. When I adjusted to the light, I couldn't find the words to describe what I saw, or how I felt.

In front of me was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life. Shade Academy was a huge palace-like building, maby eighty years old, it was several stories high, surrounded by a tropical court yard. It looked really good which is saying alot because nowadays, it's hard to find beauty in Vacuo. Now I'm not saying that it was perfect, because it wasn't. Some of the sandstone benches were broken, and the marble memorial wall was well worn. Not to mention the entire courtyard had a decent layer of sand covering it, but this was Vacuo, so there wasn't much they could do about that, (but that kind of thing doesn't really bother me very much.) Despite all it's flaws, I loved it. It was even grander then Atlas.

"This place is great!" Lyra exclaimed.

"And packed." I added, "come on. Let's get our things."

One thing I learned the hard way about Vacuo: all sence of order and organization is tossed out the window.

There was no line or anything. Just a crowd of people trying to get to there things before any of it got stolen. We squeezed through the crowd and barely managed to get our stuff (not-so-cool fact: it took us at least twenty minutes, which is generous because it probably took longer.) The airship wasn't too tightly packed, but other airships were coming in, some had even more people than our airship. All of the luggage was delivered in a big package mess of chaos, so we had to shuffle through hundreds if not thousands of bags and hope we didn't grab the wrong luggage. It was so crowded that at one point, Lyra said that she needed air. So she climbed on a random guy's back while he was leaning over to grab a suitcase, and leaped into the air,(yes, dear readers, we somehow managed to stay together the whole time, though, I'm still not entirely sure how.)

Much later, we finally stumbled out of the crowd. I was sweating so hard, I wondered how I didn't faint. We collapsed on one of the stone benches. Small groups of students (probably teammates, probably friends) were walking around the courtyard talking about their vacation time, or maybe some of them were new students becoming friends. Most of the students were trying desperately not to trip and fall as they hauled their things indoors. A few managed, but others had no such luck. One poor guy accidentally opened his suitcase while he was pulling it out of a sand dune, and all of his things fell out. Another guy, maybe a friend or family member, dropped his things too help his buddy out. It made me glad to see that, even though it was a rough start for everyone, the school and the students still kept the same respect that Vacuo had for it's people.

Well... almost everyone.

"Hey! Your in my seat!"

Startled, I turned to see a tall blonde girl barely managing to stand straight and tall in her fancy clothes. And when I say fancy, I mean something a casual Atlisian citizen would wear: a sleeveless pink dress with a faint flower print towards the bottom. She wore a pair of hot pink high heels that were so ridiculously high, that I thought she was going for the floating princess look. Her face was covered in a super heavy layer of makeup. Her blonde hair was streaked with pink all over the place, and she was oviously wearing hair extensions, because there was no way that her hair was long enough to touch her butt.

"I'm sorry," I said as I looked at her sideways, "you must have the wrong bench."

"And the wrong school." Lyra added.

The blonde gave Lyra a distasteful look. "No one asked for your opinion, weirdo. By the way, are those pillows on your back? Or are you supposed to be some kind of 'rare' species or something?"

Lyra's face burned with hate "They're wings. And before you ask, yes, they are real."

"Well," the blonde sneered "I don't know what kind of trash is going through the headmistress' mind, recruiting freaks like you into one of the most famous combat schools in the world. You're definitely not worthy of even being here."

I was so mad that I got to my feet in an instant. "Well at least this is the most friendly kingdom in Remnant. In Atlas, they don't give a dime about anyone unless your rich. They definitely don't like faunus. And because of that, I think that Atlas is a crappy kingdom. I bet that you come from a rich, spoiled, ignorant, family who only cares about themselves. I wonder what would've made them hate you so much for them to send you to place that's to low for your standards."

She was so mad, that I thought she was going to blow a fuse. "What?! How dare you just assume..."

"I'm not assuming!" I snarled. "I was raised in Atlas. And I know first hand how awful the people are."

"You traitor!" She shrieked. "How dare you betray your home kingdom like..."

"Like what?" A taller girl walked up. She had deep red eyes, which shone behind a pair of circular spectacles. Her long brown hair was tied back in twin braids, and her bangs with red streaks were parted. She mainly wore dark red and brown colors, with gold as an accent. The only thing I could say was different about her, besides her clothes and her neat appearance, was her accent. I wouldn't say she sounded atlesian. Maybe she was half and half? I don't know. I couldn't tell how she felt because she looked pretty emotionless, but my guts told me she was far from pleased. I could tell because her position was rather tense and her tone was rather stiff.

"This little brat is talking trash about her home kingdom! She needs to be put in her place!" The blonde shook her head, flouncing her overdyed hair. The other girl rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip. She used her other hand to push her spectacles in place.

"Sounds more like you need to be put in your place. If you wanted people who looked, walked and talked like you as friends, then you should have gone to Atlas. You made a poor choice in Academy chosing. Your physic doesn't even look huntress worthy. It's a surprise you even passed the Shade academy entrance exam." The girl bluntly stated, causing the blonde to glare daggers right through her newfound enemy.

"I-it's not my fault I was sent to this garbage kingdom! I was forced to! By my parents!" The blonde protested.

"Huh, how fun. It's a shame really. If this is an Atlesian tradition, then it must suck like crazy. What forced your parents to send you here, when you could have been at home, spoiled rotten to the core?" The girl grinned wryly. Boy, there was no end to the shame this girl could endow upon that blonde.

"And besides," I added, "Technically, I was born in Vacuo. So that gives you no valid excuse to call me racist."

"And I've visited Atlas in the past." Lyra said in a sour tone. "Do you want to know what I think of Atlas? It's an illusion. An illusion to all the people outside and in. People look at Atlas and think it's the best and most advanced kingdom of the present. But like any illusion, it can shatter in an instant. If you think Atlas is a great kingdom, then you can believe that if you want to. Nothing lasts forever."

"I've been born and raised in Atlas, and I will say that my lifestyle sucked, which is why I left to live in Vale. My only friend was a faunus, who was beaten and discriminated because of her faunus traits and family status. I agree with the standard that Atlas is nothing more then a mere fantasy. You can enjoy your beliefs, but watch where it will lead you, because it may lead you straight to your doom." The dark girl joined in. She wasn't even fazed by the Barbie girl's reaction. She just glared laser eyes through her plastic frame.

The blonde girl was looking at all of us with a murderous glare, "Well, I can't stand for any of this trash. I'm heading inside to find more sensible people to talk to. I think you all are a bunch of a..."

Her cuss word ( I'll let you guess which one,) was cut off by a squeal of joy that was so loud, that I almost had to cover my ears. It came from all the way across the courtyard, where the students were being dropped off from the airships. I couldn't see who exactly screamed, but she was definitely loud enough to silence the whole courtyard.

"Wow." I said in a small voice, "Someone's definitely excited."

"I bet even the people inside heard that, too." Lyra added. The dark girl nodded in agreement.

After a moment of silence, the blonde said, "Let this be a warning to you. If I see you ever again, then I will beat the stuffing out of you."

She gathered her four hot pink colored bags, and started struggling to get her things to the academy.

"What a jerk," the dark girl said, "I hope I'm never on a team with that girl."

"Um..." I looked more closely at the stranger and instantly realized something: the only luggage she had was a leather backpack. "Hey. Where are your bags?" I asked.

"I dropped them off at the Grand Hall." She said casually, "I kept my backpack on me just in case."

"Huh." Lyra nodded, "ok, who are you?"

"I'm Dracella. Dracella von Burgundy."

"Hi, there." I said "I'm Aliar Ivory." I helt out my hand. Dracella took my hand, and we shook.

"And I'm Lyra Phoebus. " Lyra shook hands with the new girl.

"Are you an Ivory?" asked Dracella.

"I am." I responded, "but I'm not into business, I'm a fighter."

"Interesting." Dracella said. "My uncle told me about the Ivory family. My parents don't like you guys."

"Um... Does this make us enemies?"

"No. In order for us to be enemies, we have to hate each other. I don't hate you."

Lyra let out her breath like she was relieved, "Thank goodness. Cause I thought you were gonna..."

"Take a selfie!!!" A squeaky voice behind me exclaimed.

I almost jumped out of my shoes. Behind us was the girl with the exact same voice that echoed throughout the courtyard. Except, she wasn't a girl, she was a faunus. She was wearing a vertically stripped skirt patterned with black and white. She wore a magenta colored shirt with short puffy sleeves, and a darker purple button-up vest on top of that. She had a pair of dark purple high heeled boots on. Also, she was wearing a tie across her neck. I usually thought that ties were worn by business workers, but she wore it like a practical joke. Her crazy, purple colored hair and matching colored cat ears only made her look more unprofessional, but in a good way. Maybe it was her black gloves that gave off the message that she wasn't here to mess around. With a folding fan on her belt, a scoll in her hand, and a look of pure craziness on her face, she looked like she was ready to fight an army of Grimm, then take a bunch of selfies of herself right next to the decaying corpses. Then, she'd probably take selfies with her scroll on every inch of the campus.

All in all, she looked like someone from the lower classes of Atlas, or maybe someone from Minstral.

"How did you get here?" Asked Lyra.

"I took the scenic route." She sounded like a girl who was living the life of a party. "Oh! And my name is Catness Magenta."

We all exchanged names. Then Dracella said that she had to go text her cousin before the welcoming ceremony, and she ran into the school.

"So," Catness asked, "Why aren't you two inside the building?"

I face palmed myself. "Right!" Then I turned to Lyra, "We should get our bags to the Grand Hall."

"Well if you wanna talk later, then I'm always available." Catness offered. Then she smiled, flashing two rows of shiny white teeth, and disappeared.

For a minute we didn't say anything. Lyra piped up first. "Huh. That was a thing."

"We should probably go drop our stuff off." I suggested. I picked up my black duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder. Then I grabbed my two white suit cases by the handles and got to my feet. Lyra grabbed a golden suitcase and a blue duffle bag.

"Yeah," she agreed, "We don't want to be late."

I amplified my Aura and the sand beneath my feet solidified, creating a solid ground for me to walk on.

"Lyra," I told her, "I may have just met you and I think you're a good person. I hope maybe we can be on a team together. Or at least be friends."

Lyra smiled. "Well we can be friends. And I think I could definitely live with you on the same team as me. But..." Her smile faded, "I don't know how they pick the teams. Let's just hope the system's friendly enough to at least let us make a choice."

"One can only hope." I muttered. "Wanna meet me at the auditorium after we drop our stuff off?"

"Sounds fun to me." Then she took off, flying over the scorching sand, with her suitcase dangling in the air.

"Oh yeah." I smiled as I walked towards the Grand Hall. "This may be a tough first year, but it's gonna be fun."

@saiyoyuutsume, @cinnamon-pineforest, @taiyang-too-long, @doctoroobleck, @fallentitan98, @ask-stjerne-a-fallende, @ask-dracella-von-burgundy, @ask-professor-goodwitch

[ante--meridiem]

(You don't have to answer if this is too personal btw) It's just that I've known for about two years that I'm probably-mostly a lesbian, but I never had someone to talk to about it seriously. I'm almost 19 now and never really tried to get involved with someone romantically because I don't want to weird anyone out or make them uncomfortable. And I know that doing stuff at my own pace is totally cool but sometimes I worry that I'm late to the game or something :/ What were your experiences?

Hi anon :). Don’t worry, it’s not too personal. (I mean, my answer is quite personal, but what is tumblr for if not over sharing with strangers on the internet? :P) I hope my experiences can help you, though if you’re looking for dating advice the most I can say is “don’t do what I did”.

I can empathise with a lot in this ask. I realised that I was gay at about the same time as you, and it felt late to me as well - but going by what I've heard from other lesbians I've talked to, I think it's actually quite average. (I think the reason it feels late to us is because most "common knowledge" about LGBTQ stuff tends to focus on gay men, who just anecdotally seem to realise a lot earlier on average). I'm still not 100% confident in my sexuality - I settled on "lesbian" more by process of elimination than anything else. The only thing I'm mostly certain of is that I'm not straight - I could potentially be wrong about liking girls, or about not liking guys, but there is no way that I'm attracted to men more than to women.

Extensive discussion of my personal life below, feel free to read if you want to.

Getting to identify as a lesbian was a really long, confusing process for a few reasons. I'm the kind of person who tends to overintellectualise and overrationalise my feelings, so it was far too easy for me to convince myself that I felt the things I "should" feel. My immediate environment was never intensely homophobic (...extended family is a different matter, I'm still not out to them because I'm pretty sure my grandmother would react very badly based on arguments we've had about LGBTQ rights in the past), but the possibility of being anything other than straight just wasn't discussed, other than in a "that's weird and inappropriate for children" kind of way, so I ended up with the impression that being gay is such an unusual and distinct experience that it would be impossible not to know if you were. 

In retrospect, there were a some feelings I had for girls when I was younger that would probably count as crushes/puppy love (I made a girl a Valentines Day card when I was 11, for God's sake, and in my naive obliviousness didn't think anything of it) but somehow I never connected that feeling of intense, nervous admiration to what a crush was supposed to feel like. I managed to think my way into believing I liked various boys and had a tendency to confuse mutual respect for romantic love. (Those "crushes" made me sure for a while that I couldn't be gay, because I liked boys, didn't I? It's honestly hard for me to pick out a detail that proves they were fake, even now, but the main thing that stands out is I preferred talking about how much I liked them over actually talking to them.) Later, I had a phase where I rationalised that romantic love was a lie and indistinguishable from platonic love, and I shouldn’t care so much about it - even though part of me very much cared. 

I can pretty much split my realisation into two parts; realising I wasn't attracted to men and realising I was attracted to women. Both parts were difficult, but in their own way. The easiest one (or maybe I should say "simplest" one, since while it was fairly obvious it wasn't particularly easy emotionally - it made me feel even more weird and out of place, which I’d already felt for other reasons) was realising I wasn't sexually attracted to men - except that at the time, I just parsed it as not being interested in sex generally. Somehow the possibility of sex that didn't involve men at all wasn't something I was really aware of. My friends would talk about how attractive various men were, and I'd just feel extremely confused and like I was missing something. Being the pretentious person I was I rationalised it as "sex is meaningless anyway, all I really care about is love". 

The other half was much more confusing, but happened in a pretty cliché way - I fell in love with a friend. I can't actually say how long it took me to realise that because I'd always seen her differently from my other friends, but I put it down to admiration, jealousy and wishing I could be her. I kind of assumed that she was just so special that everyone must feel that way around her. A moment that stands out is when she was telling me about various guys who'd asked her out, and I started feeling weirdly jealous about it but also found myself thinking well I can't blame them, if I were a guy I'd want to date her too. From there it took about a year to realise that the "if I were a guy" clause wasn't necessary. It felt completely different from my other “crushes” - she made me feel happy more than nervous, I wanted things to stay just between us instead of wanting to share them with everyone, she popped into my head unasked for instead of me making myself think about her. I was hyperaware of her presence and couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was - which had never happened with a guy.

At that point I started calling myself biromantic asexual (terms I found on the internet and never actually used in real life - the most I told anyone was that I was bi, which it still took a long time to be willing to do - I think I was seventeen by the time I actually told anyone I might be bi), but I was still very uncertain of it. For a long time I told myself that I didn't really like girls, I just liked her. I was also completely in denial that my attraction had any physical component at all, because I felt like that would make it less "pure" and I was terrified of being creepy. I tried asking my parents for advice, but they insisted that admiring your friends a lot was normal and didn't mean anything, and I couldn't explain how I knew that this was different. (It didn't help that they believed the only difference between friendship and romance is physical attraction, and I couldn’t define any other difference even though I knew there was one). My mom was hesitant because it would be harder for me if I wasn’t straight, which... I know she meant well, but it came off like she thought I was choosing to overcomplicate my life, something I internalised and that made me second-guess things even more.

Even once I accepted that I was probably bi, a part of me felt certain I would end up with a man, but I wasn’t happy about it - every time I thought about it, I felt resentful. It was the kind of thing that felt like a bad kind of inevitability. I was also scared to tell the friend in question I liked her, because the pessimistic part of me felt certain she was straight even though she’d hinted otherwise. Eventually I did though, but only when she was about to move away to study in university, and because I was afraid of freaking her out I decided to phrase it in past tense and downplay it (”I used to kind of have a crush on you”). When she took it well, I gained the courage to say I still liked her, but had been afraid to say anything because I was afraid of how she’d react. She told me I should have told her sooner, that gender didn’t matter to her and I shouldn’t have assumed she’d reject me. We spent the next few months exchanging semi-flirtatious messages and she said she might consider dating me some day, which came to a head when I realised she didn’t really mean that. I asked her to just straight up reject me - which she did. 

During all this time, I’d come to be very close friends with a guy. He understood me better than almost anyone except the friend I liked (or so I thought at the time) and I felt like I could tell him anything. He asked me out (knowing about the other friend who I was definitely not over) and I accepted, for all the wrong reasons - because it was flattering to be liked, because I was afraid no-one else would like me, because I was trying to get over her and didn’t want to be alone, and because I couldn’t find a reason not to. I told him I thought I might be asexual, but agreed to physical intimacy (not sex, mind you, just kissing and cuddling, but it was enough for me to feel between bored and uncomfortable) anyway, for a lot of the same wrong reasons. 

The relationship wasn’t bad per se, at least at first, but it felt - empty. Like ticking off the boxes of what a healthy relationship should be. We had deep, intimate conversations but it never felt like enough. At first, I tried pushing him for more - more depth, more intensity - because I was annoyed with what felt like complacency from him. I couldn’t understand how he could be satisfied - even happy - with what we had. I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I didn’t know how to love right. The first time I tried to break up with him was after I’d introduced him to my former crush, and he noticed that as soon as she was around she had my full attention. I felt incredibly guilty, there was a lot of crying on both sides, but eventually we didn’t break up. The question came up again a few times - he tried to break up with me as well because he sensed I was being distant, and during this whole time, I started fantasising about being with various girls. This was when I started acknowledging that I might not be asexual after all. 

In the end, I decided to call myself a lesbian because it was the hard boundary I needed to draw in order to break off the relationship, and kept the label because nothing else seemed a better fit, but part of me still felt like I was faking it. (I once made a friend laugh by saying I had imposter syndrome about my sexuality). I was out to a few people - my closer friends, my parents and my English teacher - but only started being fully open about it once I went to university. I got involved in various LGBTQ communities and while I never felt I fit in especially well with the other people there, it did make the label feel less alien, to the point where I was comfortable casually referring to myself as gay. I even went on a few dates with a girl, but I could feel myself trying to force feelings that weren’t there again. I’d latched on to my sexuality as an explanation for why my last relationship went wrong, and I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could feel the right things if I were with someone of the right gender. 

After we decided we wouldn’t work out I decided to stop trying to force things. Right now, I’m very comfortable being single and think it’s best I stay that way until or unless I develop feelings for someone else naturally, though the thought of dating a girl someday makes me feel warm fluttery things in my stomach. (I do realise the chances I’ll just fall in love again without looking for it, and that she’ll be into girls and into me, are very small, but I don’t see a better option).  I’m also out to most people who are a regular presence in my life, extended family aside, and the label has stopped feeling just “good enough” and started actually feeling right.

[comeliashawnae]

A fictional story Inspired by Logic's 18002738255 music video

So….. I was 18 when I came out… Not really came out, more like my mother walking in on me and my “friend.”

It was 2 weeks before high school graduation, and she was not the first friend I had sleep over.

The day before was so incredibly normal. It was a Saturday, and my friend and I hung out at the mall most of the day. She got some hoop earrings and shoes, I got a couple of shirts and a bracelet. I asked my parents if she could stay over, they said fine.

My parents had no idea I was gay. I wasn’t a girly girl, but I wasn’t a tomboy either. I definitely glammed up when I felt like it. But hair tied, sweats on, with no make up on was also a fav. I’m definitely what you call the in between, I played softball hardcore, but I also loved watching real housewives.

Being an only child I was the best of both worlds for my parents. I was the daughter who loved shoe shopping with mom, and the girl who can watch sports with dad cuz she knows the difference between a field goal and a grand slam. I had a great childhood because of that. I have very loving parents. Still didn’t stop that wow factor though.

After shopping my friend and I got to my house, ordered pizza, watched some movies. Normal things teenage girls do.

We had been some what “dating” but nothing official. She asked where she was sleeping, I told her my bed was fine. I had mastered keeping quiet when friends came over.

My friend and I had started making out once we got to my bedroom. This wasn’t our first kiss, but it was our first time taking it past that. With each other anyway. My room and my parents room were on opposites end of the hall, so a little music helped mask whatever sounds we couldn’t help get out. We went further than either of us expected too, and then fell asleep in each others arms. Was it love, or teenage lust?

Think I’ll go with the second one. Yeah that sounds right, just pure teenage lust. Hormones raging and we just got caught up in the moment. Thats the answer I have for that now, did not have that answer that morning when my mother opened that door.....

Morning came, it was probably 8, sometimes we go to church, but since I had a friend over I figured we weren’t. I was right, I just didn’t think my parents were gonna order breakfast for us. They had woken up early and my dad left to get the food and my mom had come to ask what we wanted.

I was half awake and on fence if I should've woke my friend up before my parents or just wait five more minutes since it was Sunday morning. Should’ve gotten up five minutes earlier. I thought they’d sleep in til 10 and my friend would have had time to get dressed and hide any evidence. But I just laid there in my own world, thinking I could hide forever. I guess that was a sign from the universe to stop hiding. I had no choice when I heard my mother’s voice. When I heard that door open I just knew it was over.

Its like time stood still for those few moments. My mom walked in and said “morning girls” and just paused….

My friend awoke from her deep sleep and just stared at my mom. The look on my mother’s face was…I can't even really describe it.

Stunned. Absolutely stunned.

It felt like she was standing there forever, when it was probably just a few seconds. No words were said, she just shut the door.

I looked at my friend, she looked back at me then turned to grab some clothes. Not really sure if they were hers or mines, just saw her throw on a shirt and pants grab her bags and rush out the door. My mother was still there when my friend opened it. They looked at each other for a second before she bolted to the front door. I was still sitting in my bed when mom looked back at me. I looked at the floor and saw a shirt and shorts. I grabbed them and, keeping myself completely covered as possible, put them on. I didn't look at her the entire time she stood there, I couldn't. I sat there on the edge of the bed and slowly started rocking back and forth with my hands wrapped around myself. I could feel her eyes burning into the top of my head. What was there to say?

Like I said, if my friend wasn't there we would have gone to church. We're not overly religious, and I wasn't doing anything to rebel against religion. We were very involved in the church, we did bake sales, Halloween parties, Christmas plays. We loved our church family. My parents weren't judgmental towards anyone. But still, I didn't know what their reaction would be, and I definitely didn't want them to find out this way.

After what felt like hours of her standing there, she walked back into my room. I was still staring at the floor, rocking back and forth.

"Can you look at me?" She finally said. I slowly raised my head and looked at her. I can't describe the look she gave me, I just know I started crying the second I saw her face. I looked away and just cried. Through the tears I saw her feet come closer to me. I felt her sit down next to me and place her arm around me.

"Sweetie, please stop crying" she said softly. I tried to stop but couldn't. She patted me and pulled me closer. Then I heard my father come in.

"What's wrong?" He asked, standing at my doorway. I finally stopped crying and looked at him. I opened my mouth, but words couldn't come out.

"Our daughter is gay." My mother said simply.

"Really?" He said with just a look. Not of disappointment, more surprise. Yeah he was really, really, surprised.

"Well....ok" he said.

"Yeah" said my mother still patting my shoulder, "Yeah."

"So.....are we going to eat breakfast now or?" He asked.

"Yeah I'm starving" Mom said. She pulled her arm from around me and grabbed my hand. "Come on honey,"

With tears still in my eyes I followed them to the kitchen. We sat at the table and started eating. I still had not said a word. Dad stared for a second, Mom stared, they stared at each other. I just tried eating, even though I had no appetite.

"So," my dad said hitting the table. Mom and I jumped. "Sorry, just a little surprised."

"You're telling me," mom said. I put my fork down and just stared at my plate.

"Look," dad said "We're your parents and we love you. You're the greatest gift your mother has ever given me. You're the greatest gift I've given her. You are our world."

I nodded. Still staring at my plate.

"When did this all start?" Mom asked.

Oh that question had me so scared. I almost cried again.

"Baby don't cry" she said softly. There was a pause. Do they really want to hear the truth or do they want to hear what they think they should hear. Before I could even give myself a real answer the words left my mouth

"At a party when I was 14," I said still looking at my plate. I took a deep breath and finally looked up.

"An older girl started flirting with me. But that wasn't what did it. When I was 11 and everybody was talking about the latest boy bands and I was still looking at the female singers closer than I needed too I knew something wasn't right with me. That party when I was 14 just confirmed it."

"There's nothing wrong with you." mom said. "Like your father said, we're your parents and we love you. No matter who you decide to love."

Still teary-eyed I had a big smile of relief on my face.

"This explains why you never brought a boy over." Said dad. "Which is too bad because I had that all planned in my head the second the doctor said it's a girl."

Mom and I let out some giggles.

"But seriously," he said "No more sleepovers, OK?"

"Yes sir" I said.

"Well, at least we know she'll never get pregnant when she goes to college." Said mom.

"Yeah, so many upsides." Laughed dad. He got up from his chair and hugged me.

"I love you, honey."

"I love you too, daddy."

Two weeks later I graduated high school, a couple of months after that I started college. New city, fresh start, I was finally able to be me.

I guess I'm what you call the lucky one. My parents didn't threaten to kick me out or disown me. They just loved me because I'm their daughter.

I can't believe that was 10 years ago. Here I am now at 28 years old, in a happy relationship. In a happy marriage.

My wife had asked for my parents blessing. My father, proudly, walked me down the aisle. We just adopted our first child, a handsome baby boy. My mother is so happy to be a grandmother and my father is happy to, finally, have a little boy in his life.

I know all stories don't have a happy ending, but I'm hoping mines help someone.

It's still better to come out versus keeping it in. I kept myself in the closet for so long. At 11 years old I knew I was different, but I also knew I needed to keep my mouth shut because I knew it was wrong. From a 11 to 14 I tried to play along, but I just didn't like boys. Then that faithful night a girl kissed me for the first time and that was it. So for four long years I kept every relationship, every girlfriend a secret from parents. Seven years I was never my true self. My teen years were harder because I had such a big secret.

But once they came out. Once I came out, life got better.

For everyone still hiding, it gets better.

[terselylove]

Depression...

My experience of dealing with social anxiety is a feeling of overwhelming fear when interacting with individuals I wasn’t comfortable with. I was unable to look people in the eye when speaking to them, and struggled to keep a conversation going. I came off as both extremely quiet and shy, as well as rude, which anyone who knows me well knows I am the opposite of.

During this period of my life my self-confidence was at an all-time low, and I felt disgusted every time I looked in the mirror. I stayed away from people as much as I could, and felt I made an embarrassment of myself whenever I went out in public. I constantly had a voice in my head saying “Why would anyone want to be friends with you? You are ugly and pathetic.”...

I love summer. Lighter evenings, longer days, warmer weather, summer dresses, perhaps even some sun if we’re lucky. Generally speaking, as seems to be common with most people I speak to –  when the sun is out, I’m in a better mood. However, as someone who also experiences periods of depression, I’ve found that this isn’t generally the case when it comes to my mental health.I’m fortunate that I’m currently in a much better place at the moment but, when I think back to a few years ago, I found the summer months to be an immense struggle.When the clocks sprung forward, it all felt a little bit daunting. The things I’d usually look forward to about the change in seasons now served as reminders that I really wasn’t ok.The lighter evenings and longer days meant more time counting down the hours until it was dark enough to go to sleep. The warmer weather meant more plans to cancel and, as a result, more excuses to make up. I couldn’t even muster up the enthusiasm to decide what to wear each day – something which would ordinarily bring me a lot of enjoyment – and so the summer dresses stayed at the back of my wardrobe.Perhaps depression is a little easier to understand in the winter. It’s dark, it’s cold, most people are spending evenings at home not really doing much. If I was having a particularly bad day / week / month, it didn't feel so wrong to get home from work, change into my pyjamas and just go to bed.Yet when summer rolled around, it seemed as though everyone was out and about having the ‘best time ever’. 

And then there I was, struggling to get out of bed.For someone experiencing depression, it can be difficult to watch those around you enjoying themselves. I'd mute group chats so as not to be met with the constant barrage of plans, I'd excuse myself from after-work drinks, and I'd invent reasons not to attend BBQs and family gatherings.“But it’s such a nice day…” people would say, “you should get out the house, it might cheer you up."Yes it was a nice day but, whilst their words were well-meaning, they simply weren't helpful. I already felt as though I was wasting my summer and I knew I should get out the house, but it just didn't seem possible. A nice walk on a sunny afternoon might do wonders if I'm just having an 'off day', but depression is so much more than that, and a sunny afternoon isn't a cure.Depression doesn't care about the weather, your weekend plans, or the birthday coming up that you'd do anything to be able to enjoy. It doesn't think to itself "summer is here, time for me to disappear for the next few months."

That isn't how it works.I'm in the fortunate position of having friends I could be honest with. Friends who would still keep inviting me to things 'in case I felt up to it' and didn't judge me when I stopped replying to messages for days or weeks on end. They'd suggest shorter periods of socialising that felt a lot less daunting, and remind me that they were still around if and when I felt up to going out.In more recent years, I've managed to enjoy my summers without the weight of depression casting a shadow over them to quite the same extent, and for that I'm incredibly thankful. I think my own experience has also made me more aware of how others might be feeling, and I'd encourage anyone who thinks a friend might be struggling to try to understand and have a little patience. 

Some people understand it, some think it’s an attention call. For me, depression is like that pile of laundry that you don’t want to show in your Instagram pictures. I never want to show my pile of laundry to the world, I want my life to seem happy and put together, as if I folded and put away all my laundry right out of the dryer.Ever since high school I have suffered with extreme depression and anxiety. I can defend the issue for hours and hours, however I get embarrassed when I feel sad. I get so embarrassed when I am sad and those around me do not understand and treat me as if I’m crazy.Typically most of my life I’ve always just been called dramatic when I’m upset. It has become one of my biggest triggers, because most of my life I haven't had that fight to defend it. I just, quite simply, let it eat at me.Depression can be the hardest when others just don’t understand you. I get sad for no reason so often that I’ve created safe spaces. In our current home, my safe place is my bathroom floor. Probably about at least three times a month you can find me locked in my bathroom on the floor, crying. The lock on that door is the only form of power I feel I have at that moment.

I see you.

I share this because it’s real, I share this because everyone has that pile of laundry.

I know everyone may not have depression, but everyone has something hard they’ve experienced, everyone has something to share and everyone has something to relate to.

Many times I have found myself on that bathroom floor contemplating life and how to make it past that very moment, will I? I have to say how thankful I am that I haven’t followed through. Life is so hard. Sprinkle on some depression, heck, dump it on - and life is now even more hard.Please don’t ask me how I can be so sad I could contemplate suicide. Because honestly I do not know, nor do most people in that situation. How did we make it to this moment? What did I do to deserve this sorrow?You never know who is hurting. Those who are, we often are the most resistant, waiting for a hand to be held out for us to grab onto as the pressure of our mental being closes in on us.Check up on those who are quiet, those who check up on you; maybe conversation is being sparked due to their need to communicate. Let’s talk about our hard times, it’s healing, not embarrassing.So, here’s my laundry pile. You’re not alone.

 Depression is not an emotion - it's an illness

Ah, mental health stigma surrounding depression. The worst that's been said to me in all these years having depression is:"Don't go and have a moment on me!""Don't quit your job. I know your job has been making you feel depressed but you're being stupid. You haven't tried hard enough.""Is that all your depressed about?""Stop being ungrateful and take your Great Aunt's advice!"

Please, stop.

This is not me being lazy, ungrateful or selfish. This is me dealing, sometimes suffering, with depression. This is my demon running its black toxins through my head, poisoning my thoughts and feelings.

Depression is not an emotion, it's an illness. A completely and utterly illogical illness. Just like with colds, for example, some colds can just be a little sniffle, sneeze, etc, while some colds can completely wipe you out and keep you bed-bound for x amount of time. Whether you have a mild cold or one from hell, you still have a valid cold. People with the strongest immune systems can still be affected by them.

From an outsider’s point of view, sure, they would be able to see the positive things going on in your life. However, when depression strikes, for me at least, it feels like a part of my brain has turned off the switch to be able to enjoy things. If it's really bad, I'm unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel with whatever I'm dealing with. I can also feel like a shell of a person sometimes. It's as if my brain has temporarily sucked up my personality and misplaced it somewhere else. I'm there but not there at the same time.

I don't choose to do this, depression is basically trying to tie me down in a chair at the cinema, forcing me to watch its fake "reality" tale about how my life will always be rubbish, dark, etc and how I'm worthless. Sometimes I can fight it off, but other times it can catch me off guard and I believe it for a while. Depression, by the way, is one hell of a liar.

The best way I can describe the switch being turned off is while you can see the beautiful colours of the world, I only see black, grey and white. My favourite meal in front of me is suddenly tasteless mush. My favourite TV show/YouTube channel is changed to, what feels like, a very boring presentation about something I've never been remotely interested in. Going out with loved ones can feel like everyone is spinning around me in fast motion while I'm sitting there in slow.

Depression is one of the worst things I have ever experienced, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Thankfully over the last 9 years I've learned to differentiate my depression thoughts from my healthy thoughts. I know my depression is just trying to make me watch a fake tale about me and my life, like how I described earlier, but I know I can beat it each and every time it knocks me. Depression might be strong but I'm much, much stronger.

Please do not judge other people's struggles and do listen to what they have to say. Their mountain may be a molehill to you, but everyone is different and everyone’s feelings are valid. Please, please always remember that.

For a long while, I've been having issues with mental health. I remember asking my mum one day years ago if hearing and seeing things was normal and her response still sticks with me. "You're too young and don't know what REAL mental health problems are."

At the time I was incredibly depressed, anxious and scared of myself and what I might do. Whenever I tried to reach out and ask to see someone for help because I was seeing things, she always gave an excuse to dismiss what was going on, like I needed more sleep or I needed to "stay off that phone!". I just wish she might have listened a bit more, instead of brushing me off as lying, or getting angry and impatient with me. If she had been more supportive, I would have felt more capable of handling myself during my bad episodes. 

Considering that not even my own mother would believe me, I truly felt alone and thought that no one would listen to me and brush me off as liar or even a fake. It made it hard for me to reach out for help or take care of myself in the ways I needed.

Now that I'm in my later years of university and I'm in a relationship, I've had to be truthful to myself and acknowledge that I do have issues that need help with. It's taken me even longer to learn how to trust people, that people will reach out to help me if I ask for the help I dearly need. That I won't be told I'm too young or it's because I'm tired or because I'm on my phone too much before going to sleep.

It's taken me years to realize that I need help and that no one but me can choose whether or not what I'm dealing with is real. I don't need someone to compare their own experiences to mine and deem my cry for help as valid or not. But if I had a parent that believed me and took me to someplace where I could've gotten the help I needed, I think I would've been able to cope better with my conditions now.

Some people fail to realize that mental health doesn't discriminate against age and sadly for me it was the person I looked up to most that failed me.

I never know how to explain depression to someone. It’s so different for everyone and comes in so many different forms. Some people describe their depression as a weight that holds them down, ever-present and demanding of their time. Others describe it as a shadow that looms in the back of your mind, always taunting and jabbing and trying to tear you down. Some days, you just have thicker skin. And then sometimes, depression is described like drowning. It’s wading in an ocean of poison and barely catching your breath before you’re dragged back under. 

I don’t think people understand that depression is constant. Some days it doesn’t feel as heavy, it doesn't tug and pull as hard. And other days, it knocks you down before you can even get out of bed. 

I am always fighting this constant battle with myself. I may smile and laugh and seem happy, but know that, somewhere, in the back of my mind I'm struggling. The happy interludes, the in-between where the weight doesn’t feel as heavy, are simply vacations from the reality that is my depression.

It makes me feel like a failure, no matter my successes. I feel worthless and like I’m a burden on everyone around me.

My depression is a beast that lives inside me. It whispers horrible things in my ear, tells me that I am waste of space. And all the while, I have to smile and pretend I’m okay.

That life isn’t beating me, no way. I’m too stubborn for that. I have to pretend that there isn’t some rabid animal inside of me, clawing to get its grip around my throat and snuff out my life. 

People who don’t have depression don’t understand. But they can still be there for people like me. When they say something that scares you, don’t yell. Don’t get angry because you don’t comprehend how their mind works.

My mind is a scary place. I shouldn’t need to open up and spill my darkness for your compassion.  

Support people with depression, even if you don’t understand. Just be there.