#SECRETLY WATCHED IT ON MY MOMS NETFLIX ACCOUNT IN ONE NIGHT

[bookwxrmish]

YALL I JUST FOUND OUT THAT HEARTSTOPPER S2 CAME OUT ON MY BIRTHDAY AND I AM IN LITERAL T E A R S

LIKE IDK WHY THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

[watarfallar]

Have Some Celebratory Incorrect Quotes- HERE'S TO WILD LIFE!

Joel: Oh, to be a bored heir to the throne who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener. Etho: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the heir’s room because they are in love with them. Lizzie: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for their secret deliveries in the middle of the night. Scott: Oh, to be the heir’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other. Gem: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending. Impulse: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the heir’s personal life and who dies of dysentery at age 23.

Pearl: My mom is calling… hi mom. Jimmy: Come on guys, stop. They’re trying to talk to their mom. Scar: *loud fake sexual noises* Mumbo: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP! Grian: *is asleep* Ren: *gets really close to the phone* Tell her I said hi.

Impulse: So, Skizz is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Impulse: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible sex with the mole man. Grian: I don't know about that...I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. Scott: Take this more seriously! Skizz was clearly taken in their sleep! Lizzie: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. Cleo: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting...? *Skizz arrives* Skizz: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Grian, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Grian: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Impulse: ...I did. I broke it. Grian: No. No you didn't. Cleo? Cleo: Don't look at me. Look at Etho. Etho: What?! I didn't break it. Cleo: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Etho: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Cleo: Suspicious. Etho: No, it's not! Bdubs: If it matters, probably not, but BigB was the last one to use it. BigB: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Bdubs: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? BigB: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Bdubs! Impulse: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Grian. Grian: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Bdubs: Grian... Cleo's been awfully quiet. Cleo: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Grian, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Grian: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Grian: Grian: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

Joel: Christmas lights? Pearl: Check. Scott: Thermos of hot cocoa? Pearl: Check. Cleo: Santa suits? Pearl: Check. Grian: Shovel? Pearl: Check. Martyn: Alibi and bail money? Pearl: Check- wait, WHAT?!

Martyn: Alright, who’s hogging the Netflix account? I’ve been locked out all week! Scott: Sucks to suck! I’m already on the 8th season of Friends! Bdubs: Not me. Martyn: Don’t lie. I know it’s not Scar or Skizz. Bdubs: It’s not me, really! Martyn: … Bdubs: …But it might be Joel… Martyn: You gave Joel access to our Netflix account!?!? Bdubs: They wanted to watch Orange is the New Black! Martyn: I’m going to kill you.

Cleo: I’m the smartest person in my friend group. Skizz: You hang out with BigB, Jimmy, Etho, and Impulse. Skizz: It’s not as high a compliment as you think.

Gem: Dumbest scar stories, go! Martyn: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Etho: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. Tango: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. BigB: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Bdubs: I have emotional scars.

Scar: *fills up bottle and drinks from that* Bdubs: *brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen* Martyn: *drinks straight from the tap* Skizz: *dehydrates* Ren: *drinks from the puddle of water on the floor* Pearl: *licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

!SUGGESTIVENESS AHEAD!

Grian: Make her pussy wet not her eyes. Scott: Make his dick hard not his life. Bdubs: Break her bed not her heart. Scar: Play with her boobs not her feelings. Mumbo: Get on his dick not his nerves. Etho: Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

!SUGGESTIVENESS OVER!

*after the Squad has been separated for a few years* Mumbo: So what have you been up to recently? BigB: Leading a revolution with Etho. Mumbo: Good for you two! Me, I've joined the mob. BigB: *nods* Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Mumbo: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Bdubs? BigB: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Joel? Mumbo: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break them out later. Lizzie? BigB: Cult leader. Mumbo: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Joel, to the Squad: I’d die for you. Jimmy: Then perish. Scar: You will. Skizz: Please don’t. Impulse: Cool. Scott: I’d die for you first.

Jimmy: You're a lying piece of shit! Scott: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Impulse: I'm leaving and I'm taking Ren with me! Scar, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Mumbo: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to? Pearl: Schrödinger's boys. Grian: FUCK! Lizzie: What about cracking open a cold milkshake? Etho: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. Etho: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison. Mumbo: ... Pearl: ... Grian: ... Lizzie: ... Etho: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

Gem: What do you guys do when you're stressed? Cleo: Try and calm myself down! Tango: Sleep. Martyn: Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out. Scar: I don't.

+ bonus hermitcraft quote! (Dasuma and his brainless children)

Xisuma: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Pearl: Several traffic violations. Scar: Three counts of resisting arrest. Jimmy: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Grian: Also, that’s not our car.

[freakymcnastys]

“meet the grahams” - a mha book - headcannons!!

general headcannons:

sero and bakugou are hispanic 🤷‍♀️ sorry yall i don’t make the rules

sero specifically is puerto rican (on his dads side)

bakugou is dominaican, on his moms side because that is a dominican mom if i’ve ever seen one 😭

i can totally see those two getting into it during hangouts because sero called him a pendejo (stupid) and they’re just yelling at each other in spanish💀💀

tokoyami is a hardcore mistki lover and his favorite is the puberty album (i bet on losing dogs is his anthem 💔💔)

1A does friday night karaoke

mina and tokoyami singing “bring me to life” by evanescence-

ok hear me out… bakugou SECRETLY likes mitski (“i want you” and “class of 2013”)

every other friday night sero and denki take editables (provided by sato in 1B) and go to the aquarium

class 1A has a secret tiktok account

junko and chiaki stream fortnite sometimes

aizawa recommended that they do weekly bonding things so every week 1A gathers in the common room and they play boardgames or cook or watch something

uraraka and tsu are the biggest bakers known to mankind!! like they skip activities to bake cakes and cookies for everyone

1A has a minecraft server but junko and sero got banned for being too freaky :(

hawks x dabi is cannon in this because it’s my (kats) roman empire so be excited for the juicy drama

junko’s headcannons:

enji has def said to junko that shoto should’ve eaten her in the womb ☺️

“i know it’s over” by the smiths is so sero x junko core <33

whenever junko was on her period she literally REFUSES to get up for day 1 and makes sero or shoto go to the convence store to buy her like snacks and stuff

she’s actually really good at 21 (card game)

plays on sero’s ps5 (tlou2 and sims4)

her pfp on twitter is a pic of endeavor with a red cross over it (🚫) and the name is “dni endeavor”

hangs out with natsuo more than the rest of her siblings

her and shoto have to fight the twin telepathy allegations ☹️

wasn’t sure what sero meant by “netflix and chill” until he sat her down to have the whole birds and the bees talk 💀

chiaki’s headcannons:

has a picture with metallica (she was like a toddler)

toshinori has camcorder footage of her when she was younger running around in UA and it’s tucked in a box somewhere

“duvet” by bôa is literally bakugou x chiaki :)

chiaki's favorite game is resident evil and her king is leon kennedy

her devil (which is apart of her quirk) is always present behind her but only when she takes her eyepatch off does it actually do anything other than loom behind her LOL

the biggest drawback of deal with the devil (her quirk) is that every time she overuses her quirk it takes a year off her life starting at 100...and bakugo doesn't know this until someone says something

not to make her an mc...but she didn't take the regular entrance exam cause her quirk is so powerful so when she gets there everyone is like "who tf is this weirdo" and yeah she's so mysterious

she's an academic weapon but you would never know cause all the time she's playing video games.

She loves having really colorful braids and she loves putting them in fun lil hairstyles :3 she usually lets denki pick because he thinks her hair is so cool

whenever she had to take her hair down/out of braids she invites the bakusquad to help but only katsuki, mina and sero are allowed to since denki and kirishima aren’t allowed to use scissors 💔

- love always, kat + devina <3

[xthefxrgxttenx]

@4x0hxnxroll​ said : 🤝 + Beth & Emily

texts the other memes at 3 am: 

Neither girl really does this all too seriously, because Emily puts on a much more serious persona she wishes she had to. And Beth just isn’t funny. And if it does happen, it’s done semi-ironically, or at least so they claim, because, God, who sends each other MEMES at 3 in the morning? Which, to that end, despite not being traditionally funny, Beth is the more likely candidate between the two, especially earlier on until Emily feels able to show her dorkier/nerdier aspects to Beth. And the more Beth grows attached, the less and less ironic (and more and more frequent) the memes become. Such is the way of being a walking fucking paradox. But again, with all that sad, it’s not a hugely integral component of their friendship/relationship. And is more just a “Man, I’m fuckin’ bored, can you believe I’m looking up memes about a fuckin’ llama who kidnapped a child? Help me.’ kind of escape.

tries to convince the other to do an idea that definitely sounds questionable:

Both, but for entirely different reasons. Beth is the more unstable wildchild of the two, digging through her brother’s medicine drawer, using Chris for weed and coke, barhopping, fooling around with strangers etc. And Beth can start to have that Jess-effect on Emily as their relationship progresses, drawing her out of her more cautious bubble and giving her a chance to live a much louder and more adventurous life than she’d have if Beth wasn’t around. Emily, however, has that weird impulsive need to flirt with temptation, and will, entirely on a whim, in a random fit of courage, dare Beth to do something more intimately personal between the two. The kind of adventure that Beth would herself wouldn’t ever be able to initiate. (Like kiss her panties in the living room half naked after texting Sam to come help them.) 

is the designated driver and who always gets wasted:

This depends on the night, to be honest, and often just doesn’t happen at all. Beth can be responsible when she wants. And at times can feel almost COMPELLED to be. So if she knew Emily was gonna be off her face smashed and vulnerable, she’d definitely be a designated driver and stay sober enough to keep her safe. But then, I also kind of feel like once Emily starts to notice how weirdly repressed yet impulsive Beth truly is, she’d actually  want to be a designated driver for Beth once in a while so she can not ONLY get wasted, but also get wasted with SOMEONE WHO CARES. However, absent those exceptions, both girls are likely to just get an uber home because rich and fuck life.

always has to host the impromptu sleepover:

BETH. BETH BETH BETH BETH. BETHBETHBETH. BETHHHH. Emily’s dad is an absolute fucking cunt and while he’s more fond of Beth and Hannah on the surface than their brother, Josh, he’s still a bit of an ABSOLUTE FUCKING CUNT. Emily’s parties are therefore ALWAYS meticulously planned, to make sure her dad isn’t out and that she has MORE than enough time to safely clean up before he gets back. Beth, meanwhile... Sure, Beth’s dad might also be a bit of an absolute fucking cunt, but at least he’s an absolute fucking cunt who DOESN’T FUCKING CARE. Her parents spend more time across the national border than in their home country of Canada. Their house is often vacant, save for Josh and Hannah, who are usually always down for getting shit faced, too. Post-Game, Beth has her own little apartment she lives in that Emily could honestly move into if you needed.

who’s netflix account gets mooched off of:

Actually, in a rare turn of events, its BETH who has her account mooched off of. This is due to Emily’s dad paying for her Netflix and being a lot more strict with what he qualifies as APPROPRIATE for his should-be prodigy of a daughter. Beth’s account, however, is paid for by a dad who could literally give zero shits what Beth watches so long as she stays outta trouble. So Emily can safely watch anything she wants on Beth’s Netflix without being judged or berated by her father. (Though she sometimes has to lie to Hannah and Josh about just exactly WHO is mooching. I mean, come on, when is Beth Freakin’ Washington going to watch CELEBRITY MASTERMIND?) Post-Game, however, might be a different story... (As in, Beth kinda estranges herself from her parents and that sweet free money, and Emily might give Beth her pass and then just blame Beth when Henry wonders who the fuck watched an entire season of Sex and The City overnight.) Once Emily also gets cut off, they find the money for an account between themselves.

brings all the snacks and who supplies the movie:

Emily supplies the movie. With two very specific exceptions. Those exceptions being: 1. When its an early premier or pre-release of one of Beth’s dad’s productions. He’s a bit of a narc and LIKES to have any and all eyes he can to appreciate his psychotic masterpieces. And sometimes Beth genuinely likes some of his films and just wants to watch one once in a while. 2. If Beth is super pushy or passionate about a specific movie, Emily will cave but she won’t hide her feelings. If it’s shit she WILL bitch about it. And if it’s REALLY SHIT, she’ll pull the “I wish Jess was here” card. As for snacks... It’s typically Beth because Emily is full anorexic and unlikely to bring anything “snacky” to begin with, and Beth kind of has this weird obsession with eating with people/people watching her eat. So bringing snacks that Emily might wanna eat with her brings Beth a bizarre sense of joy.

is usually the first one to say sorry after a fight:

Beth. Though only if she genuinely sees that she was in the wrong. Both girls are pretty stubborn and guarded like that, but I do feel like Beth would break first, especially later in the relationship when she’s more obsessed. That being said, Emily also has a pretty quiet GUILTY STREAK that sparks up in game. During the pre-order bonus scene she ends up being pretty apologetic/grateful to Matt for handling her “high-maintenance” self, and she is downright terrified and blaming herself in her better Matt endings. And even if this is sometimes rooted in insecurity, I do think she’d be capable of having those moments with Beth as well, provided Beth had shown extensive enough loyalty through a lot of conflict/drama.

is the ‘ mom friend ‘:

Errrrrrr... Kind of see the bit about the designated driver. It’s kind of the same deal, honestly. Beth is repressed mom having a quiet quarter life crisis. Therefore she sometimes takes care of Emily. Emily is a repressed everything who actually does have a soft side beneath that icy fortress, and would feel bad for Beth and wanna let her be a wild child in safety. But then both are also royally fucked up and might just say fuck it all and get wasted and wake up inside each other panties on a park bench one night. That being said, Emily kind of has the encouraging mother role when it comes to Beth’s insecurities, namely her leg and her eating habits. While Beth is sort of Emily’s tough loving mother when Emily is making stupid mistakes like wanting to call Mike at two in the morning when she can’t even stand without using Beth as a crutch. So it really does just sort of depend on the situation and whether one or both of them are going through psychological bullshit at the times.

calls the other at 12 am to wish the other a happy birthday without fail:

I actually don’t know, to be honest. I feel like it would happen, and both would do it almost ritualistically after the first time, but the first time would either be: 1. Emily because she’s actually secretly super organized in life and might genuinely know certain birthdays of certain friends and just do it on impulse one day. Possibly while drunk. Probably while drunk. 2. Beth would do it out of a need to make Emily feel noticed and special once she learns about the true depths of Emily’s insecurities and need for validation and fear that no one would actually give a shit about her birthday if SHE didn’t make a big deal out of it to begin with. Which really it just depends who does it first. I don’t think either is so romantic or sappy to always do it outright. But once it IS done, if at all, then I feel they’d both do in return for the other doing it. LOYALTY & RECIPROCATION.

is the better wingman to the other:

Ummmm... Emily. Definitely Emily. It has to be Emily. Which, that isn’t to say that Emily is a GOOD wingman. It’s to say that Beth honestly COULDN’T wingman for Emily because Beth could never, ever, EVER be able to overcome her own insecurities to willingly guide attention to someone other than herself. Especially when maybe she herself has a small crush on Emily and wants to fuck her and have Emily’s attention all on HER. (It’s definitely not a SMALL crush.) Emily, meanwhile, would probably deflectively (during) or indifferently (early on) wingwoman for Beth because she’s not allowed to be gay and she spends a lot of time hung up on Mike. THAT BEING SAID: Post-Game, I genuinely don’t think Emily would be able to wingman for Beth either.

‘ the strong must protect the sweet ‘ , who’s the ‘ strong ‘ and who’s the ‘ sweet ‘:

HAVE YOU SEEN THEM?! The bitches protect each other. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. (Maybe literally.) That’s why they’re both designated drivers or moms at different times. That’s why Beth lets Emily use her netflix or stay over. That’s why Emily would at all want to take care of Beth during wild nights out. That being said, I do think, by literal definition, that Emily is physically stronger than Beth (especially post-game due to muscular dystrophy and her fucked up leg post-mine) while Beth might be sweeter than Emily. at least on the surface. But yeah, it’s again SITUATIONAL, based on whether one needs PROTECTING or one needs to be CARED FOR.

pulls the other up for karaoke to sing a duet together:

Oh. It’s Beth. Let’s be real. No fucking way does Emily do karaoke voluntarily. Meanwhile, Beth is a wildchild, as stated, and more importantly she LOVES noise -- ESPECIALLY MUSIC. Hell, it’s her FAVORITE NOISE, even. (Apart from Emily moaning. AHEM.) So Beth would absolutely drag Emily up for karaoke, even if Emily was bitching about it every frictional heel-scrape of the way. The ONLY example possible where Emily takes Beth on stage is out of SPITE. If Jess or Mike or Matt or Hannah has pissed her off sufficiently, maybe peer-pressured her into it, and Emily wants to HURT them. And depending on the specific atmosphere, Beth might just be up for being Emily’s metaphorical blade.

[booksandeverything-in-between]

My journalism journey

... has only just begun! 

This is my post for the “Life Narrative” assignment for JTC 326. I’ve added a “keep reading” tab because I hate putting extremely long posts on my dashboard! Keep in mind too, I’ve formatted this to fit the platform, so it’s not strictly professional. 

Also  — this is the first time I’ve shared my Tumblr with anyone who is not my sister, but it’s the perfect platform for this. 

** All pictures were taken by me unless otherwise specified, some taken from my old blog posts on here. 

A note before I start: When I first thought about this assignment, I had so many things I thought I could share, a lot of them deeply personal, somewhat dark and just not the right fit. I had a bit of a crisis; I cried a little. There is so much in my past that makes me, me, that I’ve only ever really shared with my therapist, but have generally wanted to write about. But it’s hard, and I don’t know how. And a whole lot of other stuff. BUT THEN

I realized I could share a story that I have always wanted to share! It perfectly relates to our class too and basically everything anyone would ever need to know about me! It’s amazing! I’m so excited! I hope you like it! 

(line break) 

It’s the summer before sixth grade. That’s how I define, or sort, my life, in my memories. It’s the year of school, or it’s the summer before/after. It’s not my age, or the calendar year; it’s school. For a long time my whole identity revolved around school, so it fits. 

Anyway, I’m bored. My older sister and I can only do so much Netflix-watching (because we didn’t have cable) on the Wii (because this was 2011), and I need something to stimulate my active mind. Here comes books! 

I’ve always, always been an avid reader. I was the first person in my first grade class to start reading chapter books  — something I liked to brag about a lot back then. But I’m about to be a middle schooler, so I need to find something a little more mature. My parents decide that I’m at an appropriate age to start reading some of my sister’s old books, which were originally marked for garage sale. 

One of these books has a long, juicy title, with a teen girl posed on the cover in a preppy school uniform, hand on her hip. I don’t have to look this up to remember; it is forever in my mind. The book is I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You by Ally Carter. Juicy, right? AND I LOVE IT. Seriously. Love. It. 

Photo: I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You by Ally Carter. 

... And I guess I move on. That part is a little fuzzy. Enter: Back to School Night, sixth grade. I always would go with my mom, because I loved school, and nights like those I thought were super cool. So, I’m hanging out with my best friend Sydney by the stairs, and she has this book from the school library with her. 

Do you believe in fate? Was it kismet? I do not know; I will not guess. But I do know, I freaked the f*ck out. Because it was the book, by Ally Carter!! I loved that book! When I asked Sydney where she got it, she said in the library, and there were a bunch of other books like it. 

That made me pause. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. Because, what do you know, it was a series!! There were three other books to be read! How, oh how, did I not know this? It had to be fate. 

I can still picture exactly where the books are, in the Preston library. The smaller shelf, up against the wall, right by the opening into the conference/meeting room space (I don’t know what we called that room???). Bottom shelf. 

Who knew a series about teenage girls going to a spy school would set me on this path? 

Suddenly it’s the summer after sixth grade, and once again, I’m bored. But, I have access to a netbook, that my grandpa gave us. Something entices me to start Googling these books. I find Ally Carter’s website. I found out that there are going to be two more books in the series. And I stumble upon this Google search suggestion, with the word fanfiction. 

And wow. 

Stories, countless stories, about my favorite books. Eventually, I make my own account on fanfiction.net, I try my hand at some of my own stories, I get a smartphone and make this very tumblr account when I turn 13, I find a place where I can express all my nerdiness in peace and all-caps, without any sort of ridicule fear. 

But that’s not the end, nor the point, of this story. 

Photo: The first four books in the Gallagher Girls series by Ally Carter. 

(line break) 

So here I am, spending all my free time secretly reading fanfic and trying to write it, and hating my life sometimes and thinking about what I want to study in college because that’s my best chance at escape from this life that I feel I’m stuck in. 

But I can’t think of anything to write! I love to read; I enjoy writing; I am learning more about grammar because my dad has me grading his grammar quizzes he gave his JTC 300 students; but still, something isn’t right. I viscerally hate English class. 

But! There’s a way I CAN write, without it being creative! My dad is going to school for photojournalism, my sister took a high school journalism class, and now it’s my turn to register for classes in high school. I sign up for Journalism 1, the precursor to Journalism 2, which is the class that houses the student newspaper. It’s a great plan. It was a good class.

I was looking through my old journal the other day, and I came across this line dated from September 23, 2014, just into the beginning of my freshman year of high school. “I want to be a journalist.” 

Photo: A journal entry that reads, “I want to be a journalist.” 

My sophomore year of high school, I take Journalism 2 and join the paper. I’m kind of terrified because there are a bunch of people I don’t know and now I’ll actually have to go out and report and talk to people ... but we do some really fun team-building, and people seem to like me, and I relax. I feel, just a little, like a really belong. 

And I had felt that way before, during band, and with some of my friends, but this thing, this journalism thing, I’m actually good at it. And there’s this one moment that sticks out to me still. 

It’s probably 7:20 a.m. I’m trudging up the steps to Spanish class, and I do not want to be there. It’s not that I don’t like school, or I don’t like my classes, because I do. But I’m tired, and it’s not what I want to be doing. I think, if I could spend the entirety of my day in my journalism class, I would be happy. 

To this day, as a college student, I am jealous of the people who get to spend their whole days doing journalism. 

I’ve found more than a home. I’ve found a place where, for what feels like the first time, I can speak my mind. I can be sarcastic, I can make a pun and I can also point out when there’s a bad typo somewhere and have that be appreciated. 

Halfway through my first year writing for the paper, I’m given extra responsibilities and get to start copy editing articles from the students in the J1 class, and I start to learn how to redesign/maintain our Wordpress site. I go on a class trip to Los Angeles, an amazing feat of independence for me, and I feel valued. And then, I’m award the position of Copy Editor for the next school year! It’s amazing. 

I learn my junior year that the freshmen whose articles I edited were afraid of me. Afraid, of me! (For reference, I am five feet tall). But once they met me, they were like ‘Woah, Serena’s not scary!” and now we’re good friends. I’ve since learned to be less harsh/blunt in my editing. 

My senior year, I was Editor-in-Chief. That was something I dreamed about as a freshman, but wouldn’t let myself actually fathom. And even though I felt like I could have done a much better job, and I had a lot of personal sh*t to do with too, by the end of the year, I knew that I was leaving behind a strong legacy. 

It’s really something special when people you love give you a speech, crying, telling you how much you welcomed them, how much you made them feel like they had a place to grow, to be, and how much you’ve inspired them. 

Because journalism, especially student journalism, is about so much more than the news. It’s about a community. It’s community with your fellow reporters and editors, it’s comradery while kicking ass, it’s creating a community with your readers and your peers, it’s learning about the community you live in and sharing the ups and downs of life. 

Photo: A screenshot from my Instagram account of my high school journalism family, taken at our end of the year picture my junior year of high school. We had this running joke that I was going to be a world-dominator type person (because I’m so tiny and quiet) and my teacher said, “Okay, Serena now push Katie over” because I was taking over as EIC. Photo credit goes to my teacher (not going to post his name here). 

(line break)  

I have a lot of setbacks, too. I have anxiety. Like, a lot. Of anxiety. I haven’t been formally diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, but I think I should be. 

I used to think I was just shy. And that was partially the case. But I grew from it, in large part because of journalism. I went from not sitting in my designated seat at the beginning of class because there were older kids in the way my freshman year, to leading the entire class three days a week my senior year. I liked high school journalism because I could get away with asking my friends for quotes, or just not really quoting anyone at all. 

I spent one quarter at the University of Denver last year, and it was somewhat the same thing. They didn’t have any strict standards on a number of sources, and I wrote articles that didn’t require speaking to a lot of people. But then, I took over nine months off from school in what should have been my freshman year of college, and thus took nine months off from journalism and reporting. So starting at The Collegian was a challenge. 

I am still damn proud of myself for getting up the courage, on the second day of classes at CSU, to go down to the newsroom and ask about reporting. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t, and I love where I am today. 

To think that wasn’t even a year ago ... 

Photo: Here I am, remote copy editing for The Collegian, the week after Spring Break. Photo cred to my dad. 

When I started at CSU, I felt good. I was nervous, but transferring was a really good decision, and I’m from Fort Collins, so I felt more comfortable. And at first, my reporting felt really good.

But then I got too stressed with school and work, and that stress led over to increases social anxiety when I was reporting. I went to this community meeting and tried to talk to people there, but I felt helpless and quiet and I left and cried to myself. I then conducted my interviews over the phone. 

I even had to take a break for a few months last semester, because I had a panic attack with the mere thought of approaching people I didn’t know. 

But I worked through it. Aided by Xanax and peer support, I interviewed a bunch of people at the Eva Schloss event and felt really good about it. I also saw my high school journalism advisor, because his wife works at CSU Hillel, and talking to someone who knew my struggle felt good. 

For a long time I’ve doubted if journalism, if news reporting, is something I’ll actually be able to do. It’s the only real thing that makes me feel like I have a purpose, the only thing that makes me not feel depressed about life, but I am still so worried I’ll hold myself back in some way. 

That hasn’t happened yet. 

(line break) 

It’s the summer before my junior year of high school, and I am about to go meet up with the other members of the new leadership team, Katie and Kathleen, at Starbucks. I’ve recently got my license and it feels really good to be driving myself around. 

I go to Target and buy a fancy looking notebook with the last $15 I have to my name, because I don’t have a job yet. I go to Starbucks and discover I like drinking tea. I talk with Katie and Kathleen and we brainstorm what we want the journalism class to look like next year. What we want to change, how we’re going to get students to know that we exist. 

It’s the summer before my senior year, and I bring this same notebook to a meeting at Dazbog that I have with our leadership team to get ready for the school year. I’m in charge. It’s weird, but in a good way. There are a lot more people there, and I fill pages upon pages of ideas, and agendas I want to start the first weeks with. 

So much had changed in a year. My parents got divorced, I started working a lot, I was looking more seriously into college. But so much was the same. The same people, the same work, the same purpose. It was good. 

It’s the second semester of my first year at CSU, my sophomore year of college. I’m at home, cleaning my room, procrastinating because I don’t want to write my final essay. I get a text from Laura, asking if I’ve heard back about the editorial board yet. I had shut my phone off because I was checking my email so obsessively. 

And there it is. I am going to be the 2020-2021 News Editor for The Rocky Mountain Collegian. I still don’t fully feel like I know what I’m doing, even though I have all this experience. News is happening, but it’s summer. Do I write about it? Do I ask other people to write about it? Can I express the authority and knowledge I know I have, to people who have more experience at the paper than I do? It’s still early. 

The day I get the news, I pull out an old, blue notebook that’s barely filled. It’s the perfect place to start brainstorming the things I want to change on the desk and the things I think are super important for Laura and me to talk about. 

I forgot that I had notes from my Editor-in-Chief days in there. 

Photo: The notebook!

It feels like I’ve completed a circle. Like all the highs and lows of my last few years have led me to here, right back to where I’m supposed to be. Where I’ve always known I would be. 

I know who I am; I know where I belong; I know my place and my purpose in this world. 

Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls series brought me to writing, and writing brought me to journalism. In my obsession with those books, the unofficial motto of the CIA really resonated with me. “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” 

Community and truth, that’s journalism. 

I want to be a journalist.

I am a student journalist.

I am a journalist. 

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Kissing Me

Anon Request: Tom Holland imagine with the sentence starter "Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?”

college!AU

College was an interesting place and, if you played your cards right, was the exact opposite of high school. In high school, kids were overly judgmental and didn’t venture far away from the few close friends they’d had since kindergarten, where as in college, people are exposed to new people in tons of new situations every day. It was during one of these randomly happened across situations that (Y/N) found herself during the first few months of her first year on campus.

(Y/N) shared an apartment like dorm room with three other girls who were all strangers, but eventually got to know one another fairly well. Despite having her differences in personality with her three roommates, everyone managed to get along, but there was one thing that irritated (Y/N) more than anything else that her roommates did: not tell her when they were having people over. 

More often than not, when (Y/N) finished a long day of classes and wanted nothing more than to go back to her room and sleep, silence wasn’t an option when her roommates brought over their other friends. There was only one time where the inconvenience of them bringing people over and not telling her wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, and that was the night she officially met who would become her closest friend: Thomas Stanley Holland.

(Y/N)’s roommates were, without a doubt, more outgoing, friendly, and approachable than she was--which probably accounted for why they always had people over--and one night, decided to order a couple pizzas and invite over a couple guys they met at a campus event earlier in the year. As the three girls planned on what they were going to do once they got the two guys they’d all been secretly pining after for the past couple weeks in their dorm, (Y/N) finished an Algebra quiz, thinking only of the left over food her mom sent her back to school with after a weekend visit and of binging whatever season of The Office she was about to re-watch.

With her night planned out in her mind, (Y/N) hurried home to shower, put on a pair of loose fitting shorts and a slightly baggy tank-top, pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, and slipped beneath her covers to watch TV on her laptop. As she began to dress down on that Friday evening, her three roommates had begun primping themselves: touching up makeup, fixing fly aways, redoing their hair...the works. For a moment (Y/N) was thrilled to be able to have the suite to herself, thinking that the other three were going out to a party, but when the minutes ticked into hours and a knock sounded at the door, she groaned as her roommates’ giddy squeals sounded through the apartment like dorm. 

Out of curiosity to see what the other girls in her suite were so obsessed over, (Y/N) rose from her bed and walked into the open area of the suite that consisted of the living room and kitchenette. She grabbed a piece of pizza and took a quick glance at the two guys that had just entered the room: one was taller than the others with blonde hair and blue eyes, the other had dark brown hair and eyes that matched. (Y/N) recognized the second almost instantly: he was an exchange student and was in the same psychology class as her, but she didn’t have any interest in lingering around with her horny roommates as they tried to seduce one, if not both of the boys they’d invited over. 

It wasn’t long after (Y/N) ducked back into her room and started watching The Office again that the brunette with chocolate colored eyes poked his head through her doorway. Apparently he was less than thrilled about the movie choice (Y/N)’s roommates made and had heard the theme song to The Office repeatedly mocking him from the next room over. The brunette, Tom, spent the rest of his night there watching Netflix with (Y/N) and ignoring whatever attempts were made by her roommates to get his attention, and it was then that (Y/N) realized that she had a friend for life.

As semesters passed, the bond between (Y/N) and her roommates withered, as the one between her and Tom grew stronger. She knew they were jealous that he didn’t give them any attention after that night and was closer to (Y/N) than them, but she hated that they took that out on her. When junior year rolled around the corner, (Y/N)’s roommates decided to downgrade to a three person suite and leave her to fend for herself. Around the same time that (Y/N) was searching for a place to stay, Tom was looking for a roommate to share his two-bedroom apartment with. Given how close the two had gotten in the past two years, it was a no brainer for him to immediately, without question, tell her to move in with him. After some consideration and a period of anxiety over being homeless, (Y/N) agreed and moved into the guest bedroom of Tom’s apartment under certain conditions.

“Conditions?” (Y/N) had mockingly questioned him as Tom helped unpack her boxes.

“One, let me know if you plan on having people over. Two, food can and will be shared. Three, my dog has to accept you. The final and most important condition: this,” he said while gesturing between him and the girl before him, “has to stay platonic.”

“Didn’t have any plans on changing that,” (Y/N) muttered with a smirk as she started to set up her room and Tom lowered a few boxes into a corner.

“Well then good,” he said with small laugh that, on one level or another sounded disappointed. “I’m not trying to get tied down here when I’m wanting to go back home after graduating,” he said as he tried to offer (Y/N) an excuse for the condition.

“Don’t worry Tom,” she sighed, “We’ve been friends for two, almost three years now. If I was going to fall in love with you, I’d have done it already,” she mocked. She laughed on the outside but felt a pain inside her heart she recognized as disappointment, only she hadn’t figured out what for yet.

Living with Tom had been one of the easiest and greatest decisions of (Y/N)’s life. It was a simple and straightforward lifestyle that she hadn’t ever experienced while living with the three other girls who had subtly kicked her out. Almost all of their time outside of school was spent together: they cooked and ate dinner together, watched TV together, studied together, and the partier Tom and been early on in college--and even into the beginning of that year--had subsided. He began to look forward to hanging out with (Y/N) every night, to teasing her about insignificant things, messing with her, gently stroking her hair while she fell asleep on the couch watching whatever show or movie they had chosen, but above all, he looked forward solely to returning home and knowing she would be there. Of course he didn’t realize that the domesticity of his relationship with (Y/N) had lead to a blossoming in the way he saw her. As they grew closer and closer, it became more and more difficult for him to deny that things on his end were no longer strictly platonic. 

(Y/N) and Tom had just finished cooking dinner and, as Tom piled his plate high, (Y/N) sat on the couch with Tom’s dog, Tessa, at her feet. Tessa rested her strong, block-like jaw on (Y/N)’s knee and her big brown eyes drifted toward the new, female presence that Tom had once jokingly referred to as her new mom. Unable to resist the cuteness of Tessa’s begging face, (Y/N) slipped the dog a bite of chicken and then allowed her to jump up on the couch and curl up against her thigh. Tessa nudged and wiggled herself until her upper body was positioned half way across (Y/N)’s lap, forcing (Y/N) to hold her plate above her head to avoid spilling.

“Tess!” the two heard Tom call as soon as he rounded the corner from the kitchen into the living room. Tessa’s playful and loving behavior was quickly reverted to guilt; she knew she wasn’t allowed to be on the couch, but she knew (Y/N) would let her. (Y/N) rested her plate on the coffee table and held Tessa against her lap, keeping the dog from getting up and causing Tom to narrow his eyes at her. “(Y/N),” he tried to scold her, but after having fought whatever sexual tension (Y/N) knew was lingering between them, she couldn’t think of his attempt of being mad at her as the intro to a bad porno. 

“Tom,” she said in response by mimicking his expression. 

“You know Tessa isn’t supposed to be on the couch,” he said.

“Technically she’s on me,” (Y/N) countered.

“And you’re on the couch!”

“If you put the hammer in an elevator is the elevator worthy?” (Y/N) countered while cocking an eyebrow and holding the muscular dog in her lap.

“(Y/N), we have rules for a reason,” he said while drawing out her name in an exhausted tone, tired of having to tell her repeatedly to get Tessa off the couch.

“Look at her face,”  (Y/N) said in a cutsie voice reserved for puppies and babies while widening her eyes and frowning to mimic Tessa’s puppy dog face.

“Like I said,” Tom repeated trying to stay firm in his decision, “we have rules for a reason.” (Y/N)’s face quickly distorted and a small flash of frustration or anger was visible to Tom even if only for a moment.

“Some rules are meant to be broken,” she stated sharply and hugged Tessa before letting go of the dog to let her make her decision on which human parent she’d listen to. Tessa’s eyes darted between Tom and (Y/N) before she reluctantly slipped off (Y/N)’s lap and flopped down onto her dog bed beside the couch. “Coward,” (Y/N) muttered after Tessa, earning a small laugh from Tom who was trying not to read into her previous comment.

As Tom lowered himself into the cushion beside (Y/N), he couldn’t help the lack of control he felt his body urging him into when in her presence. The rules he had, the conditions he made her agree to, were all made with protection in mind: keeping Tessa off the furniture protects his belongings, ensuring Tessa got along with (Y/N) was to protect Tessa from feeling like she was being replaced, and making (Y/N) promise to keep things platonic was to protect their friendship from falling apart due to the complications of romance. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until Tom saw the hurt expression in Tessa’s face when she reluctantly got down from the couch that he recognized the hundreds of times (Y/N) had bore the same expression. From the second he introduced the final condition of living together, to every time they were messing around in a friendly manner or bantering back and forth, or even having an impromptu fight while chunking the couch cushions across the room, both of them had held back the full force of their emotions, and (Y/N)’s came through via the guilty expression on her face for nearly breaking her promise.

After finishing eating, (Y/N) went into her room, like she always did after a rough encounter with Tom, to process how she could keep herself from acting on any emotions pressing her to be more than just platonic roommates with her best friend. She wasn’t sure if he felt the same way--sure she never saw him with any other girls, but she convinced herself not to look too deep into something that could be nothing, and so she honored his wish of staying just friends. 

Time after time, Tom had sat alone after eating, waiting to see if (Y/N) would come out from her room and continue watching TV with him, only to be left to his own thoughts--normally, those thoughts focused around her. Whether it be the lingering question of what things would be like if they were an item, or him wondering what it felt to have her lips against his, or even reverting back to the fantasies he dangerously entertained himself with from time to time--most notably while watching her being domestic for and with him. After three and a half years of knowing her, half a year of living with her, and what felt like a lifetime of trying to force himself from feeling anything for her, he couldn’t think of anything other than her snarky and bitter voice as she said some rules are meant to be broken.

Tom took one long look at Tessa as she lay, discontent on her dog bed with her nose pointed toward (Y/N)’s room and a low whimper in her breath. He took a deep breath himself before standing and making his way toward (Y/N)’s door. With a soft knock and no response, he pushed the door open lightly and noticed her slipping an oversized t-shirt he thought he recognized as his on over her head. He cleared his throat to let her know he was there, and (Y/N) spun around to see Tom’s face pulled tight in an anxious expression.

“Everything okay?” she asked as he took a few steps toward her. He shook his head softly and gently grazed his fingers against hers before looking into her welcoming and kind eyes. He took one last courageous breath and then lowered his face to hers. When his lips met the soft skin of hers, he relaxed into her presence, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close to him, comforted in the fact that she had reciprocated the same repressed feelings he held for her. After his lips grazed against hers and he begged for the kiss to deepen, (Y/N) pushed back against his chest, hesitant in what she was doing and wondering if what was happening was a reality, a dream, or some sick prank.

“Wait,” she said through a heavy breath. “Kissing me breaks the promise.” Tom’s eyes were locked on hers and she self-consciously looked away. His fingers gently touched her jawline, begging for her to bring her eyes back to him. Once she had given him her attention, he pressed his forehead to hers and relished in holding her against him for a moment longer.

“You were right,” he sighed, “some rules are meant to be broken.” At the end of his words, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. Tom’s lips fell against (Y/N)’s once more and both of their hearts pounded as the tension and excitement overcame them both.

Sensing a change in the atmosphere and emotions around her, Tessa jumped from her bed and ran into (Y/N)’s room. With a big leap, she jumped up onto the bed that Tom and (Y/N) had fallen into--their lips still locked and bodies still holding one another. Feeling the shift in weight on the bed, Tom pulled away for a moment to see his dog curling up on the pillow behind where he and (Y/N) lay. A “disappointed” smirk fell over his face as he narrowed his eyes at the girl lying beneath him.

“You came around when it came to me,” she said with a smirk, “give it time and you’ll give up on that rule too,” she teased. Tessa panted happily as Tom returned to kissing (Y/N), and fell asleep content, knowing that something important had happened today to have Tom let her lie on a piece of furniture. From that moment on, Tom didn’t see either of his girls bear that disgruntled look of reluctance, and all three of them were happier because of it.

[dancinginodessa]

I’ve been doing this survey on New Year’s Eve for thirteen years, which is HALF MY LIFE, and I need to go sit down now.

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?

Officiated a wedding, crocheted a shawl, got a joint membership to something with somebody (the New York Botanical Gardens, truly the highest level of commitment before marriage), marched for my beliefs, called my elected officials on a regular basis, got a promotion, genuinely did not give one shit if my dad’s family figured out my sexuality, etc.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

My sole New Year’s resolution, as usual, was about how many books I wanted to read. I chose 100. I read 103.

In the new year, I (please hold on to your hats) want to read less, only so I can write more. It’s been a while now since I graduated from the MFA program. I want to go back to the work I was learning to do and keep doing it. That was the point: to keep doing it. 

I always want to learn to be more comfortable with not being in control, which might actually take me the rest of my life, but I might as well start sometime.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No, though I know of lovely people who had equally lovely babies! Just, you know, not babies I know very well.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No. People got sick but recovered, and I am so grateful for that.

5. What countries did you visit?

I did not leave America for the...fourth year running? It’s a bummer.

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?

Money that I am not actively setting on fire, and more room in this apartment.

7. What date from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

August 5: my best friend got married. I remember this on account of how I officiated, and also on account of it was one of the loveliest days of my life.

September 9: I had dinner at the American Girl Café, which I will not stop talking about until I am literally dead.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I got a therapist!!! 

9. What was your biggest failure?

I was a real dick to myself. And I’m still very bad at emailing people back in a timely fashion. As far as society is concerned, the latter is a graver sin.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

A bunch of weird bruises and scabs from being too clumsy to live, plus a pretty nasty cold or two. And I guess mental illness more or less constantly. But I think I am okayer now, and was okayer all this year, than I have been for a long time.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

G and I went halvsies on a Nintendo Switch! I’m real bad at Mario Kart 8 Deluxe! But I guess love is being real bad at something in front of someone and not caring.

Also: plane tickets to Cleveland and Chicago, bus tickets home, yarn for my mother’s Christmas shawl, a new phone because that means my dad has inherited my old phone and we can send each other emoji-filled texts now.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Everyone who put up a good fight. The friends who hugged and fed me. G, for riffing off my bad jokes with his own bad jokes for another whole calendar year. My parents, for everything. The McElroy brothers, for making me laugh every time I needed to.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

The government? Evangelical Christianity? Lani Sarem? In no particular order?

14. Where did most of your money go?

Transportation to other cities and mental healthcare. Holy hell am I glad that I now see a therapist who does not cost $$$$$.  

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Karen’s wedding!! Seeing Welcome to Night Vale live!! Making things to keep people I love warm!! The 5 Boro Bike Tour!! Switching to a shampoo that makes my dry hair less dry and therefore more acceptable in polite society!!

16. What song will always remind you of 2017?

“New Rules” by Dua Lipa, no contest.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder? Happier. Angrier. More willing to put up a fight.

ii. thinner or fatter? The same, I think, because we can’t afford an animator to redraw my sprite and I guess the series is going to be using this model until further notice.

iii. richer or poorer? Poorer. Woof.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Being honest about what I needed. Wearing a scarf instead of pretending I wasn’t cold. Watching Netflix, because now it’s almost 2018 and I still haven’t seen Stranger Things or Bojack Horseman and the entire zeitgeist has left me behind. 

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying (about whether I am secretly the most unbearable person alive/about what my face is doing/about spending too much money/about what I should be doing with my life/about whether or not I am literally about to die, which, so far so good), though that is kind of a tall order. 

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

I went home and spent December 25th at my grandma’s, where I was very cold and also very happy to be with my family. For Julian calendar Christmas, I think I am going to see family in Connecticut, and I haven’t seen them since I was 12, so this could be great AND/OR very awkward. Say a prayer.

21. Did you fall in love in 2017?

Stayed in it. Bought a time-share in it. Built a house in it. 

22. How many one-night stands?

I’ve been having the same one-night stand for two and a half years, am I doing this wrong?

23. What was your favourite TV program?

I watched little to no TV this year, but I did really like the one episode of My Brother, My Brother & Me I saw! If we’re counting Youtube channels, I would like to give an award to Geography Now! for being the glue that bonds my parents and my boyfriend.

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Honestly, I don’t think so. 2017 is the year of smoldering resentment. I’m too tired to hate anybody extra.

25. What was the best book you read?

Oh geez. Lincoln in the Bardo was way up there. And Version Control. Also Shrill, and Her Body and Other Parties, and maybe a dozen more, but I’m trying to finish this before midnight (in five hours), so let’s stop there.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

This was not a year in which I listened to much music! That was weird. So I can’t say I really discovered anything; however, I certainly continued to be grateful for Ween.

27. What did you want and get?

A subscription to New York Magazine. Listen, it’s the little things. (Also, a raise.)

28. What was your favourite film of this year?

Thor: Ragnarok is the most profoundly bisexual movie I have ever seen. I would also like to nominate the trailer for A Wrinkle in Time, even though the movie is not out yet. It’s just that the trailer is very important to me.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 26! And my birthday just happened to fall on one of the dates of Welcome to Night Vale’s spring tour, so I went to the Bell House with G. There’s a doofy photo of us on Facebook looking pleased with ourselves on the train, and I treasure it.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

I’m getting word that everybody else already submitted “a different president,” so how about...a rug in my living room that isn’t white? Come on, Past Nina. Who did you think you were? That kind of hubris is unbecoming, and we’re all paying the price now.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?

“Thanks, I Love Cardigans.”

32. What kept you sane?

Podcasts, crocheting, calling my mom to vent my spleen, and therapy (if you want the literal answer).

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Oscar Isaac is a beautiful man, and St. Vincent is my queen.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

[tense, angry silence; in the distance, thunder and a horse’s whinny]

35. Who did you miss?

Everyone. All the time. Especially my parents.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

Who did I meet this year? It’s been a decade since January. The new tenants at the office are pretty delightful, and my first bonding activity with my roommate E was going with her and G to the Women’s March. (We three are the best apartment you know.)

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017:

It’s okay if you aren’t okay.

[thebestplltheories]

Hey, I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your Farewell post :) I think you and I have very similar stories in regards to the backlash our family and friends gave to us when we first started watching Pretty Little Liars. I remember seeing my sister devour the PLL book series... she's my biggest role model (then, and even today) and naturally, I wanted to mimic her by reading the books as well. She always let me read the back cover description of her PLL books, but...

Part 2: she never let me actually read her books, for reasons similar to your sister and your sister's friend's reactions towards you on June 8, 2010 (the books were "too girly" and "not meant for me," as a boy.) She did, however, spoil the original two A's for me upon incessant begging on my part, something I regretted a few years later when the show came on ;) I remember sneaking into my sister's room whenever she was away at sleepovers, just so I could try to learn for myself about...Part 3: the disappearance of Allison DiLaurentis. Like you, I never felt there was anything inherently wrong with a boy wanting (needing) to understand and delve deeper into a murder mystery. The show, at this point, had been airing for a couple years, and I wasn't allowed to watch because my parents felt it was too inappropriate to watch on my own, and my sister would never invite me to watch with her or her friends. One night, I went down to our basement to find my sister and my mother...Part 4: who were watching the season 4 midseason finale together. I walked down right as the liars thought they found Allison to be alive, and I stayed with them (as they screamed, haha) when Ezra was revealed under the hoodie. It was the beginning for the end for me... I guessed my family's netflix account, and began to secretly binge PLL. I caught up by the time of the 4b premiere, and since then, I've been an avid fan (even after my sister stopped watching, I started to watch with my mom)------Ahh can I just say thanks for sharing that. It's not easy to tell a personal story like that because of the serious shaming that goes around with this show for guys. It may sound dramatic when I say "it's not easy"... obviously there are things infinitely harder in life! But, still, its true. Maybe it's just me, but the way my sister said it to me on June 8 2010, she really took a dig at my masculinity. She really made me feel less like a male just for watching a damn TV show. And that's not fun to confess to. In that sense it's hard. I really enjoyed reading this and hearing I wasn't the only one with such an encounter with this show. It sucks it had to be that hard! Thanks again for sharing 💙

[raajasii]

🤝 + a friendship (Edward & Soma, any hcs?)

[ ♢ ]  SEND A FRIENDSHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU WHO . . .   ||   ACCEPTING .

@rosefaded

texts the other memes at 3 am:

bold of you to assume edward midford knows what a meme is in any setting or time period...    soma usually sleeps at this time of night,  but if it’s earlier on,  a bitch might just send ed some early 2000’s lolcats and try to convince him it’s peak comedy

tries to convince the other to do an idea that definitely sounds questionable:

soma Always and it works out in his favor about 43% of the time

is the designated driver and who always gets wasted:

edward is pretty prudent and doesn’t usually get drunk so he’s driving.  but let it be known that in the rare case he DOES get wasted,  he’s the biggest emotional mess you’ve ever seen,  disheveled and crying on the curb because his sister is growing up too fast and soon she’ll be at the rebellious age where she won’t want to spend time with him anymore and he doesn’t like it,  meanwhile soma who’s just a Vibing/mellow drunk sits next to him like ”wow sounds rough lol i’m hungry”

always has to host the impromptu sleepover:

edward’s home gets invaded on a regular basis and he has stopped questioning or resisting it.  he probably bought soma a spare toothbrush that he keeps around just in case so that his own doesn’t have to be defiled all the time : /

who’s netflix account gets mooched off of:

hot take neither of them has a netflix account since soma’s favorite,  Super Dramatic soap operas aren’t even on netflix so he’s over it,  and ed prefers other pastimes anyway.  that or he buys physical copies of whatever movie he wants to watch for the aes

brings all the snacks and who supplies the movie:

edward supplies the snacks but always underestimates soma’s snacking velocity.  they don’t really enjoy the same kind of movies so they just watch discovery channel documentaries together and they get REALLY into learning about space or ancient ocean creatures or whatever the hell 

is usually the first one to say sorry after a fight:

see,  one of my favorite things about them individually as characters is that they know how to let go of their pride and acknowledge that they were in the wrong if they really mess up.  them making up after a fight would be the single most drama-free,  mutually effortless thing in the universe and then they shake hands on it like good lads

is the ‘ mom friend ’

BOTH AS WELL ACTUALLY????  they’re the ”bossy because they care” brand of mom friends.  ed scolds you if you’re off doing something reckless that could potentially get you injured or arrested and soma calls you 793 times if you forgot to text him when you got home.  in a crisis edward is probably the more reliable mom friend though i’m ngl

calls the other at 12 am to wish the other a happy birthday without fail:

soma forgets a bunch of shit but he never forgets a birthday!!!!!! he kno’ edward secretly appreciates it.

is the better wingman to the other:

they both suck.  THEY SUCK!!  edward is too awkward of a wingman to just walk up to unknown people and try to make a good case for anything,  and soma tries to be a fantastic one but ends up scaring potential dates away by either revealing all of ed’s embarrassing secrets accidentally OR third-wheeling too much because he’s bored...  

‘ the strong must protect the sweet ‘ , who’s the ‘ strong ‘ and who’s the ‘ sweet ‘:

edward willingly identifies as Strong soma willingly identifies as Sweet ;)  but they’re both protective of each other lowkey

pulls the other up for karaoke to sing a duet together:

i genuinely don’t think i need to answer this one

[daileymiller]

We are never, ever getting back together...or are we?

If you had told me back in November of 2012 that I would be getting back together with my ex from college, I would have done one (read: all) of a couple of things: laughed, told you to fuck off, and then opened a bottle of sickeningly sweet Moscoto (back in the good ole days when I only drank sweet wine) and drowned my sorrows in it, whilst probably drunk texting said ex. 

We all have those exes. The ones we swear off, pinky promising our friends that we’re completely over and won’t drunk text at 3am when we’re stumbling home from the bars. The ones who’s social media accounts we claim we’ve blocked, but really cyber stalk when we can’t sleep or have had too much wine after “accidentally” rereading old text messages. The ones who’ve stuck in our minds, long after the relationship has ended. The ones we always look around for, secretly hoping we’ll run into to have that magical made up fantasy reunion. 

Well, for me, that ex was KP. Not at first, though. No, in the beginning of our breakup, I was a woman scorned. He almost immediately found a new blonde girlfriend who was everything that I wasn’t: a pretty, wealthy sorority girl who donned the latest Tory Burch bag or Yurman bangle, someone who understood his growing obsession with EDM- something I didn’t have any desire to understand at the time. She fit in with his Greek friends, held his attention in a way I couldn’t , and lavished all sorts of material items onto him that I couldn’t afford. Now, if this makes him sound like a materialistic douche bag Greek frat star, I’m giving you the wrong impression. KP didn’t come from money and he’s had to work hard for everything that he’s got. But, I think he definitely enjoyed having a girl fawn over him and give him new experiences that he never had before. And I was so angry- angry to the point where I almost became obsessive over it. I stalked her Instagram and Twitter, constantly wanting to know what she had that I didn’t. I was heartbroken, confused, and abandoned to put it lightly. I’ve never been one to take breakups well. I tend to jump off the deep end- and not in a normal, get a new cut and color way; but in a big, scary, I’ll end up doing something emotionally stupid like sleep with his friends kind of way. 

I ended up transferring back home because Valdosta is a small town and that makes it virtually impossible to avoid people. Before I moved, I’d see them out at the bars, at parties, at our friends’ houses. It was becoming harder and harder, not to mention more awkward, uncomfortable, and tense each time I would run into them. He’d constantly put on a show- making sure to make eye contact with me before he’d kiss her, let her pull him in for the hundredth picture she’d post to her Instagram, wear her sorority t-shirts around campus- anything to get under my skin. Finally, I had enough. He could have Valdosta, with it’s cheap well drinks, frat parties, and her. I’d move back home to Atlanta, where I had the good bagels, Sephora, dive bars in the Highlands, brunch spots with bottomless mimosas, but most importantly: my mom. My mom became my number one ally. She hated KP, and I did nothing but fuel her hatred for him by telling my scornful one sided stories of our breakup; spilling all of his mistakes and detailing every little thing that I hated about him. For a while, it felt good. To have someone else to share my pain, to foot my bar tab, and take me for weekly mani/pedi’s. But, it wasn’t until a few years later, that I began to see the damage that my hatred had done. It built a wall around me that kept me from letting others in, caused me to refuse any and all dates I was asked out on, and kept me emotionally removed and withdrawn. 

As the years passed, I started over. I got a new job, met new friends on campus, and eventually stopped thinking about him all the time. Time definitely helps, but so does vodka. And I drank a lot of vodka. My new friends brought me around new guys, and while I would have fun with them, most of the time I was checked out, just wanting an excuse to leave. I wasn’t ready to date again, and I liked being single. I didn’t have to check in with anyone, I was free to flirt with the hot guy at the bar who wanted to buy me a drink, I could wear whatever I wanted, and do whatever I wanted. It wasn’t until late January 2017 that I would start to think about him again. 

It was after one too many margaritas at my mom’s favorite Mexican spot, that we drunkingly decided to go on a Target run. I was sloshed, but on a mission: I needed the new Fitbit, Pinot Noir, and the new line of Loreal clay face masks. As we loudly walked around the store, I found my Fitbit, but because it’s over $100, a Target employee would have to come unlock the case for me. I scrolled through my Instagram feed while my mom went to find someone who could help us. Vaguely, I could hear my mom’s laugh as she explained to the clerk that her daughter just insisted on getting this new Fitbit, even though the one she had at home worked perfectly fine. I looked up from my scrolling to see a curly headed guy walking towards me. Then I did a double, no actually, a triple take. Could that possibly be who I thought it was??? 

Sure enough, as fate would have it, the curly headed guy was KP. Yep, a Target electronics clerk. Now, I hadn’t checked in on him in a while, but the last I had seen, he had graduated with a fancy business degree, lavaliered his girlfriend, and was living in Jacksonville with her. So, what the hell was he doing in the Acworth Target? I was stunned. I assumed IF I were to ever see him again, it would be at one of his fraternity brothers’ weddings, or in his girlfriend’s Instagram announcement of their engagement.

 So, what now? Was I supposed to make the first move or was he? After a few awkward beats of silence, I finally said, hey. He laughed a nervous, what’s up and unlocked the case for my Fitbit (not exactly the fantasy reunion my 19 year old self had fantasied about all those years prior). As we walked to his electronics register, my mom started making conversation, and I loved her for it. He told her that he was living back at home in White, and was working in Target while he looked for a job, despite having a business degree specializing in economics. A quick scroll of his Facebook confirmed that he was single. WHAT? How had this slipped my radar? What kind of friends did I have back in Valdosta that they couldn’t be bothered to tell me? One angry group text later, both of my best friends confirmed he was indeed single. Neither of them knew the context of the breakup, only that he had been living with her and now he wasn’t. Before we walked away, I stole a quick glance at him. He looked different. But as our eyes met, I realized he had been checking me out too. I wondered if I looked different to him, as well. 

Fast forward to March 2017: I’m laying in bed watching late night, and my phone buzzes. I have a Facebook message...from him. Wow, what a shock, right? A couple weeks before this, again, after one too many margaritas, I had decided to friend request him on Facebook. What the hell, right? At least now I could justify my cyber stalking. Shockingly, he had approved the request almost immediately. As I had sat scrolling through his feed, an internal debate was raging in my head: Do I message him? Do I apologize for my psycho post breakup behavior? Do I start a friendly conversation? I ended up not messaging him, and instead waited for him to make the next move.  

Looking back on that very first conversation, I’m surprised how easy it was to talk to someone who had hurt me so deeply, but, it was. There wasn’t any pressure, we were just two people sharing what had happened in our lives over the last four years. We both apologized for past mistakes and decided to leave the past in the past, where it belonged. We re-exchanged numbers, and started talking all day, every day. I was surprised how open I was becoming with him, sharing little details about myself that had been locked away for so long. 

We’ve been together now for almost a year, and I would be lying if I said that this isn’t the happiest I’ve ever been. This time around, our relationship is built on honest and open conversation, laughter, late night Sonic slushie runs, watching bad movies on Netflix, going to shows, and lots and lots of sex. It’s funny how quickly we fell back in with each other- in some ways, it feels like we were never apart. I’m the most comfortable I’ve ever been with a boyfriend. As cliche as it is, I do feel like I can tell him whatever is on my mind. He’s made me feel safe, strong, and vibrant, despite my battle with depression and anxiety. 

People say getting back together with an ex is like taking a shower, getting out, and then putting yesterday’s dirty clothes back on. That second chances rarely work out, and that you’re better off leaving your old relationship in the past, and starting fresh with someone new. 

But what if your ex is actually right for you? What if you both needed to take time and date other people, only to fall back together some years later? What if those years apart taught you the lessons you needed to learn, to allow your heart to heal, and to stand on your own two feet again? Well, for me, that’s where this story ends. I’m thankful every day for second chances because it got me the guy I thought I would never, ever get back together with.