#i also joke about vapes a lot on here but i actually only use mine when i go to raves because that sweet vapour is a slippery slope

[crowlixcx]

Congrats on being an ex-smoker though! You are now more independent, cooler and your breath smells sweeter!

hahah thank u lovely! i'm no saint and i do allow myself a couple on special occasions (festivals and holidays abroad) but a big improvement from a full-time smoker. if anyone's looking to quit or cut down, i really would recommend taking up a new hobby or activity where you can see the impact of smoking. In my case this was running (5 years ago now!) because i found it was easier to kick the habit when i was doing something where i could really see the improvement each day i didn't have cigarette

[lelly-belly]

Whumptober Day 3

Hello again, friends! its time for day three, this time featuring two new characters of mine. I’ll admit, this one got a little away from me, and it strayed from the idea I had originally planned out. But its a lot longer compared to the others I’ve written, so yay for that. A lot more dialogue too. I’m not stellar when it comes to writing in first person, so please, keep that in mind. Also, again, not edited. 

Trying to tag @tinyplan3ts again because it didn’t work last time lol

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT…

taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

CW: violence, punching, some cursing (please let me know if I missed anything!). 

Context: Mark and Thomas are both players on the school soccer team, and, in their main story, eventually get into a relationship in their first year of college. Today though, they’re in their last year of high school, and this is one of the many times an asshole named Alan makes life hell for Mark. 

----------

I don’t know how, but Thomas always seems to find me when things go wrong. Always. It’s like he’s got some weird sixth sense for me, appearing at just the right time for him to witness something happen. 

It happened in our most recent soccer game. 

It happened in the hallway when I got shoved into the wall by a group of vaping idiots. 

It even happened when I fell down the stairs at school. 

And it's happening now. 

I swear I don’t mean for this stuff to happen to me. It just does. Like, I try to be nice to everyone, but goddamnit, some people just suck. Like Alan. He’s this asshole on my soccer team who’s dead set on making everyone’s experience a living nightmare. He’s constantly bitching about someone during practice, talking shit like he owns the place, and he just isn't good on the field. Normally I wouldn’t be too annoyed at someone’s lack of skill, but come on! He plays like a two year old hyped on cocaine! How did he make Varsity when he’s this bad? 

I’ll tell you how. It’s his stupid fucking smile. He plasters that shit on and sucks up to the coach and then suddenly he’s starting every game. I can’t tell you how infuriating he is to play with, or even just be around. His creepy little fucking smile sends shivers down my spine as he flashes it to me. I can’t help but look away, alright? Call me a coward all you want, but that smile will be the last thing someone sees before they die, mark my words. 

Of course, he sees me avert my eyes, and it only makes him smile more. My class is just down the hall, maybe twenty or so feet, and Alan has stopped walking and turned to me. He makes his way through the sea of people moving to their next class and blocks me from going around him with his backpack. 

“Hey,” he says, grinning wider. “How’re you?” I fight the urge to crinkle my nose in disgust. 

“I’d be better if I was in my class.” He laughs, and I cringe. Luckily he’s got his eyes closed, so he didn’t catch that. 

“Wanna go for a smoke?” he asks, holding up a pack of cigarettes. Now I crinkle my nose. 

“You know I’m not doing that shit, I want to actually have lungs later in life.” He scoffs. 

“One isn’t gonna kill you. C'mon, lets go.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and steers me away from my classroom and in the direction of the side doors to the school building. As he makes me walk to the doors, the bell rings. I suppress a sigh. 

“I have a test this period, y’know.” Alan rolls his eyes. 

“You can always make it up later, relax,” he tells me. I clench my fists and stop walking. He turns to me, and that gross smile is thankfully gone. Unfortunately, it’s replaced by an equally off putting scowl. “Oh don’t be a bitch,” he growls. “Just fucking come with me.” 

“No. I have a class to go to.” I turn on my heel and march back to my classroom. I can hear him coming up behind me, so I speed up. He speeds up with me. I’ve almost reached my classroom when he grabs me by the hood of my sweatshirt and pulls me back to the doors. He doesn't listen to my ‘fuck you’s and ‘lemme go’s. He doesn't even listen to me when I start choking. He just pushes the side doors open and drags me out with him. 

As soon as the doors close, he drops me on the sidewalk. “YOU FUCKER!” I shout, standing up and getting in his face. At this point, I couldn’t care less about attracting the attention of some remaining students and ditchers. “I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, YOU SON OF A—” I don’t even register I’ve been hit until I fall back onto the ground. My cheek stings, and my eyes burn with tears. I clutch the side of my face, looking up at him. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he tells me, his voice tight. “Your little fucking confidence streak is pissing me off, so stop it.” I wish I could say I hit him back, but instead, I just stare up at him in shock. In all of our arguments, he’s never once hit me. This, for some reason, feels like an intense turning point. 

“Do I need to hit you again to get you to fucking understand me?” he asks me. I open my mouth to respond, but someone jumps in between the two of us. 

“Get the hell away from him, you asshole!” the person who jumped between us shouts. I recognize the voice as Thomas’. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’ll be okay, Thomas is here. “This is really disgusting of you, Alan,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “I swear to God, you’re off the team for this.” 

Alan doesn't outwardly seem fazed. His shoulders are still rolled back, his chest is still puffed out, and his fists are still clenched. But something flashes in his eyes. It's hard to decipher, but it looks like fear. Maybe it's because he knows Thomas isn’t joking. When the captain of the team says you’re off, you’re probably off. 

He’s quick to recover though, and he rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He peaks around Thomas, meeting my gaze. “We’ll talk about this later,” he threatens, before stalking away. It’s interesting to note that he walks, not into the building, but to the parking lot where his car is parked. Thomas waits for him to round the corner of the school before turning and crouching down in front of me. 

“Are you okay?” he asks gently. My eyes water all over again. 

“Y-yeah I… I’m fine, I just need a sec.” He raises one eyebrow and stares at me. 

“Don’t lie to me, Mark. Lemme see your face.” I shake my head, only to groan at the intense dizziness that explodes at the tiny movement. He sighs. “If you have a concussion I’ll beat that fucker so hard he’ll be out for the rest of the season regardless.” If I didn’t know Thomas, I’d believe him. Instead, his hard expression softens, and he gently pulls my hand from my face. He sighs sadly. 

“Jesus, he really got you, huh?” I snort. 

“He did, yeah.” 

“Can you open your eye?” I try to, but can only see a small sliver through my swollen eyelid. “Damn, okay, I’ve got a first aid kit in my car so we can ice it,” he says firmly. “Lets get the swelling down and maybe that’ll help with the bruising.” 

“Its already bruising?” I ask. He nods, grimacing. 

“Yeah, come on, lemme take your bag.” I pass my bag to him, he shoulders it, and we walk to the parking lot further away from the school. Usually, I’d complain about how far the walk is, but now, I’m just grateful I’m not in danger of running into Alan. 

When we reach his car, he makes me sit in the driver’s seat and recline it as far as it will go. He then climbs into the passenger’s seat and roots around in the glove box until he yanks out a small, white box. He pulls out one of those shakeable ice packs that the nurse often uses, but, for some reason, she’s just never here anymore. 

He crushes the chemicals inside and shakes it with one hand, while he digs through my bag for my water bottle with the other. Once he locates it, he makes me drink half of it before he’s satisfied, places the ice pack on my eye, and reclines his seat too. 

The car is filled with him softly humming a slow, calm song, which manages to lull me into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.

[manichoneybee]

Tips for Mentally Ill Students

Preface: I know theres a lot of this kind of stuff around, but I thought I would put out my two cents as someone with ADHD, anxiety, and Bipolar II (so a combo of hypomania and depression that cause things I’ll elaborate on in this). This may or may not help with some chronic illnesses, as I have fibromyalgia which is pretty inseparable from my mental health.

This all comes from my experience as a first year college student, who didn’t fully take this advice all the time, but definitely plan to fully incorporate in my first semester and I’ll update you. Most of this advice I did take though, and I made it on the deans list and got a 4.0 on my jury so I think I did well for myself.

1. Do Things Ahead of Time - Executive dysfunction, depression, pain, etc. is a bitch. It will tell you that you can’t, that you shouldn’t, that it’s impossible to do that thing you need to do. And really sometimes it is impossible for you. I know I found it impossible to do my homework sometimes, and thats not good. However, this is where using your good days to full advantage comes in. On my end of this, I often even use my hypomanic days (which are not fun trust me, but thats not what this post is about) to get shit done. When you have a day where you feel like you can do things, USE IT. Do your homework, clean that corner of your room, plan a month ahead (I literally make bujo spreads a month ahead in order to counteract my depression and busy days), email that professor, get it all done. You will love your past self for it.

2. Spend Time Outside of Your Room - (Bear with me this one is long) Ok, I love to sleep, I am constantly tired. Fibromyalgia is horrible, as is depression. However, sleeping all the time is not conducive to studying, doing homework, practicing oboe, showering (trust me you will not wanna get out of bed just to shower and you will go for days without). In college you have a lot of free time, and that free time could be spent in your room, or it could be utilized to 1) spend time with friends 2) study in the library 3) practice an instrument 4) explore the campus/city 5) draw in cafe. I’ve found that being outside of your room improves your mood, and also allows you to be more focused on your work. Personally, I like to find the most underutilized area of the campus at the time, and studying or drawing there. I even once had a TA tell me to go take a walk and destress rather than take a test, and he just had me take the test the next week (he was the best TA). It’s very good to get out of buildings, especially your dorm. (If I’m honest though I did sleep in the lobby of the music building many times which probably wasn’t good, but I’ll admit this tip didn't always work).

3. Honestly Classical Music Doesn’t Always Work - as a music major who plays the oboe, I’ll be honest, classical music is distracting. I find myself constantly analyzing it and/or just getting bored with it lol. So, to fuel my brain’s need for stimulation while I do homework I put on podcasts or youtube video in the background. I know people will tell you that you can’t multitask, but as someone with both ADHD and exhausting hypomania, I need entertainment. If that means classical music for you, go for it, but I’ve talked to a couple of people and they agree with me - it doesn’t always work.

4. Say No - people will ask you to do a lot of things such as going to a concert, party, tutor them and you don't have to do it. If you don’t want to, if you don’t have the energy, if you just don’t like them, don’t do it. I feel like this is the hardest tip because many of us don’t want to be hated, but what other people think of you doesn’t matter as long they don’t effect your future, such as professors obviously. This is incredibly hard to internalize.

5. 100% Effort All The Time Is Not Possible - we talk a lot about giving what you want to receive. Thats not how it works. You can’t always give 100%, and you won’t always receive 100%. The world isn’t equal. You need to decide how much energy you can serve that day, how much energy you think something deserves, and then apply it. You may receive just as much energy as you put in, you may get less in return, or you may get more. It just depends on what you’re doing. Its not fair to yourself if you treat yourself like a battery powered machine. You're more like a cell phone that needs to recharge and has less and less energy to give the more time you go between recharges.

6. Actually Socializing is Good For You And That Can Include Parties - I know I just said say no to parties, but parties can be refreshing. Obviously I you have social anxiety it might not be, but you don’t always have to go to parties you can just hang with a friend at a cafe. However, what I'm trying to get across is that doing something new is much better than constantly doing homework, working, and just generally being by yourself. If I’m truthful, I love parties, I think they really bring me alive as an introverted extrovert, and they save me from myself. By the way, I'm not advocating for underage drinking here. You don’t have to drink at parties, and if anyone pressures you to, leave. but if you're in a safe environment parties, genuinely are a good thing to save you from self impose solitary confinement.

7. Talk to Your Professors/TAs - this one is self explanatory. Your professors are your greatest resource, and you need to tell them when you are having issues. This doesn’t mean you have to tell them your mental illness. Its genuinely not necessary, unless you really want them to understand the issue (such as e telling my piano TAs about my fibromyalgia that hurt my fingers). You can just ask them for an extension on the occasional piece of work, email them on your bad days and tell them you can not make it to class and ask for a make up date for the test. Most professors are very kind especially if you are in a small class/major. Of course it depends on the class. Personally I’d reserve this for your smaller classes, and use your extra effort on those big classes where accommodation is harder for the professor.

8. Related: Use Your School’s Resources - on that note, your school may have counseling/therapy/psychiatry/etc. that you can use. If it’s free, or you have the insurance, please use it, and if you can, use it regularly. In many cases if you have an official diagnosis, you can get disability accommodation for your mental illness and/or disability and/or chronic illness. This means you'll have an official “excuse” for violating the absence policy (please don’t though, that one is tougher to accomodate), for turning in your homework a day late, for needing power-points to be presented rather than verbal lectures (I have this one for just in case moments, normally professors automatically accommodate this though). This means that if professor don’t let you use your accommodations, they can get in trouble.

9. Have Things That Make You Feel Better Easily Available - sometimes it’s incredibly tough to get out of bed, but you need to. On these days, you need something that can make you feel better without just skipping class. On these days I always have sweatpants or leggings available for comfiness, in the fall I grab my emotional support scarf (not a total joke, that scarf comforts me on my panicky days), sometimes I even use my CBD vape pen (yes, yes I know self vape nation lol get it put of your system). Just having things that make you feel good, in your site, and readily available for use is so important and can really make the difference.

10. Not Every Piece of Homework Needs to be Done - exclusively the only reason I did not get a 3.8-4.0 is because I weighed my options and decided it was better for me to not do certain low weighted hw. Rather than use my spoons doing hw that wasn’t going to ultimately help (I knew the material, if you don’t know the material it’s tougher to use this tip), I used my spoons and energy towards doing the laundry or practicing my oboe for an extra 30 mins. It’s important that you weigh what is more important to you personally. 

I hope these helped! I’m trying to be realistic as possible, and been as candid as possible so if this helped feel free to message me and talk about it because I’d love to hear your story as I’ve shared a bit of mine here.

Also, go ahead and add on to this with your tips!

[maximows]

Against the Odds - Chapter IX

Nobu,

MASTERLIST (mobile) AO3

Warnings: smutty SMUT, fluff, so much love, chaos, smoking, drinking (but not in a negative way) and swearing

“You ready?” Chris asked, opening the car door. As always, he wanted to open mine to maintain his Prince Charming reputation.

“Yeah, let’s let the world know.” I said as he left and walked around the car to let me out.

We had managed to keep out engagement quiet for months and decided to officially announce it during tonight’s Oscars. I had been nominated again and since we had decided to attend major events together, we thought it was a perfect occasion.

We were a month away from sending out invitations and we took the Oscars as an opportunity to go through our friends and colleagues again and decide who to invite. Although we did have a list and most of the invitations had already been filled out, be had some spare ones for people we might have forgotten about.

“I love this dress, by the way.” Chris said as he offered me his arm. “In a different way than last year, but still does things to me.”

I was wearing a strapless, golden Elie Saab dress with a long cut along my leg. Even though it was floor length, it wasn’t heavy at all. It had some golden pieces attached to it at the top through my waist to my thighs which disappeared around there to reveal a light pink tulle material which was semi-transparent.

“Wait till you see my wedding dress...” I gave him a wink. “I’ve finally chosen the cut.”

Chris smirked. “Don’t worry, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you in a wedding dress since last year.”

We walked up to our spot and Chris put his hand on the small of my back. I know he hated the cameras flashing in front of him and I loved him even more, because he only came here today to support me. I was trying to cut the photo call short, but they wouldn't let us. All I could do is serve them looks and glance at Chris sometimes. The word I would us to describe him was “gorgeous”. His beautifully styled hair and beard, which by the way, he doesn’t have to do anything to maintain... He looked back at me with his light blue eyes and smiled. And I smiled back. “Whatcha lookin’ at, doll?” he whispered.

“My fiancé.” I said, right before we were asked to move. We separated to do solo shots.

Be did actually cut those short, because we had arrived late, so the production team rushed us to move to the theatre. We sat in the front row. “Is this the right time to tell you that I’ve had a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio since I saw him in Romeo and Juliet?” I asked, after Leo came up to me to congratulate on the nomination. “And that he asked me out on numerous occasions?” We had met a few times during some occasions and he did hit on me hard, but the real Leo was a different person to the actor I fell in love with years ago. Also, I was nineteen when he first did and he's 16 years older. And he vapes.

“It’s the worst possible time and I hope he saw the huge diamond on your finger.” Chris mumbled and glared at Leo who sat down with his mom. “Because there aren’t many men I feel threatened by.”

“Is this why you got such a big one?” I raised my eyebrow, toying with the ring. “You jealous idiot.”

Chris smirked. “How dare you call your future husband an idiot?” he faked outrage.

I leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I love my jealous idiot aka my future husband.”

The show soon started and we watched it in silence, making comments sometimes. Chris loved the musical format at the beginning, mainly because there was a short clip from The Avengers and he was included.

We kept making casual small talk, mostly on ideas for the wedding.

“Do you want to film it? Like, hire someone to do a video?” Chris asked when another break was coming to an end.

“Sure, but I want it to be someone who doesn’t normally do wedding videos. I want it to be more original.” I said, looking around the theatre. “I’m hungry. They had snacks last year. I want snacks.”

Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out on the these small Oreo packs. “Hannah mentioned that you might get snacky, so I came prepared.”

“Perfect human being.” I sighed, looking him in the eyes.

For the rest of the show, I was holding on to Chris' hand. My movie didn't win any awards, before my category came up. I was very displeased, because I was really sure of the “Original score” award. It was putting more pressure on me and I could feel it. I had to readjust myself in the seat a lot, because my back was tense.

Chris noticed me squirming in my seat and started to rub his thumb against my hand. “Calm down, baby,” he whispered as the presenters came out. “You’re going to win and you’re going to do great.”

“I’m not, Chris.”

“You are. And I’m right here, I’ll help you up the stairs if you need that. I’m here with you.”

I saw the footage from my movie, Sweetest Heavens, appear on the screen and waited for the camera to focus on my face. I smiled and thanked God that my hand clutching Chris' was out of the shot.

“And the Oscar goes to...” Eddie Redmayne said as he opened the envelope and slid out the card. “... Emilia Dawson, Sweetest Heavens.”

I went blank for a moment, but realised what had just happened when I saw Chris stand up and clap for me. I still couldn’t believe it was happening, but figured that he stood up for me, so it wasn’t only my imagination. I got off my seat and gave my fiancé a quick kiss on the cheek before heading up the stairs. “I knew it.” He whispered as I pulled back. I just grinned widely, mouthing “I love you" as I headed up the stairs.

“Congratulations,” Eddie said, handing me the surprisingly heavy award. “it is very well deserved, Emilia.”

“Thank you so much.” I had to hold back tears already.

I walked up to the microphone, clutching the statue firmly. People were still clapping (Chris was one of the few who were standing up, dork), so I was guessing that the route from my seat to the microphone took less than 10 minutes (but it felt like forever).

“This is surreal... First of all, I’d like to thank the Academy, because you make these,” I held up the Oscar for a second. “Uh, this will be the only rehearsed part of my speech, because the win was so unexpected. I’d like to thank everyone who was involved in the production of this beautiful movie, especially Taylor, Stuart, Marie, Alexa, Helen, Jerry, Steven, Elle, Lisa, Pilar, Sara, Hector and Michael. It was an incredible journey making this masterpiece with you and I hope we find a way to work together again soon.” I said, looking at the crew in the crowd. “Also, Hannah, my agent, who has been a third parent to me for the last few years and has never failed me. Now, I’d like to thank my real parents for supporting me even when they had all the rights to think that acting was “just a phase” for me, for giving me the benefit of the doubt when I moved out at a very young age and for still putting up with me and being the best parents a girl could have. Also, thank you for staying up so late in the UK to watch this, even though you have work tomorrow.” I waved at the camera, knowing they were watching. “And last but not least, I’d like to thank my fiancé... Chris, they won’t give me enough air time to fully express how grateful I am to have you in my life and to be a part of yours. Thank you for everything.” I said, looking down at him. We were both holding back tears. Chris bit his lip as he grinned at me, when I took my last look at him, before going backstage.

Someone from the production team said that they would keep the award for me until the end of the ceremony. I gave it to them and grabbed a tissue from a box on the table. I walked up to the make up lady and asked if she could check out my face and give me a little bit more powder, because I was all shiny already.

“Hi there.” I heard Chris behind me and I immediately shot out of the chair to wrap myself around him. “Congratulations, Dawson.” He mumbled into my shoulder.

“Chris, I can't believe it!” I almost shouted. “How the hell...”

“I fucking told you!” he cheered. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Someone told me to go to the press room for the break in order to give some interviews. Chris waited just a few feet away from me and watched me answer questions. I was still a bit overwhelmed, by this whole situation, but tried to keep a clear head.

After the ceremony, a few tabloids asked me for interviews and they were straight up asking about Chris, who was already waiting in the car for me, completely ignoring the fact that I had just won the most important award in this industry.

“So when did this happen?”

“A few months ago actually.” I answered, fiddling with the ring on my finger.

“Are there any plans for the wedding yet?”

“Oh, we don’t know yet,” I straight up lied. “We’re just enjoying the engaged life for now, we're both a bit too busy to plan a wedding right now.”

I was very proud of myself for lying about the wedding. I do know that paps tend to follow me more around my birthday or other important dates they can figure out, but I never thought they could just stalk me the moment my wedding appeared in the picture. Chris is a very private person, while I’m more casual about it, but neither of us want any leaks around a special day like that.

Chris escaped the car as he saw me walk towards him. He took off his jacket and, God, Chris in a white shirt and bowtie did things to me. He opened the door for me as I said. “If anyone asks about our wedding plans, tell them we don’t have any yet.”

“Sure, they don’t need to know.”

“And they'd be really surprised to know that we had already planned most of it.”

“That’s an overstatement.” He joked.

We arrived at the Vanity Fair After party just as I changed into my another outfit in the car. Chris had a vital role in the process, because my dress was very hard to take off. “I gotta be honest, I’d rather take that dress off you under different circumstances.”

I was now wearing a black jumpsuit with a lace top. It was much more comfortable than dancing in a dress. I left the dress in the car, which was supposed to go to the Elie Saab boutique now. “I didn't bring any other shoes,” I said as Chris took my hand. “I might require a foot rub later.”

“Anything for my winner.” He smiled.

We went through the photo call again, saying hi to a few people on the way. Chris clearly forgot that there’s also photographers behind us, because his hand kept creeping down my spine to grab my butt. I didn’t complain. We’ve been silent about each other for the last two years, so we might as well put on a show tonight.

Jeremy walked up to us and we talked a little bit about the movie we're starting in a few weeks.

“Are you going to bring Ava with you? I'm coming with Emily, I can be your babysitter.” Chris suggested.

“Evans, there’s no way I’m leaving my only child with you,” Renner laughed. “You’re the fun uncle who does the most dangerous stuff with the kids.”

“Oh, come on. Emily, back me up on this.” Chris turned to me.

I just shrugged. “You did hang you nephew from the tree by his leg.”

“He asked me to!”

Later this month Chris, Dodger and I moved to Utah to film Wind River. Dodger loved the constant presence of snow. He would dive in or lay on his back and just play and it was the cutest thing on this planet. We actually got him a few sweaters which made him look adorable and he became the star of my Instagram account.

I had to do some training for the movie, including gun training. Chris and I found a gym nearby and went there together to work out. I mostly did cardio, while he did heavy lifting. I was a bit curious why, since he didn't have a Marvel movie this year, but I never really asked. I watched him lift weights while I ran on the treadmill. God, that was some view. He was laying on the bench, his biceps bulging every time he lifted. Wait, why is my mouth watering?

I looked around the gym. It was pretty late and Utah, so it was empty. I switched off the treadmill and walked up to him, holding my towel against the back of my neck. “Chris, let’s go.” I ordered.

“But I’m not done.”

“Chris,” I winked at him. “Come on.”

He finally realised what I was talking about and stood up. We were really enjoying our lives after engagement.

We spent 6 weeks in Utah. Chris left for a few days to film a video game commercial. Apparently, Chinese companies are not only willing to pay Hollywood actors a lot of money for a 2 minute commercial, but they also move production to the US, so their star don’t have to go to China.

Two days after he left, he sent me a text saying:

I have a photo for you, which I know you will love, but I kind of want to be there to see your reaction. What should I do?

What’s in that photo?

Me, in my clothes for the shoot. Actually, there’s a few photos.

I feel like this is either going to be very hot or very weird. I’m guessing you’d like to be there if it’s hot and could get me bothered.

So, do you want it?

He sent me a few photos in a row, all of him wearing military gear and uniforms. I honestly could feel my blood boil after I looked through them. He was wearing the vests, boots and they put some dirt on his face, but also his hair was perfectly styled apart from that one loose strand on his forehead.

How soon can you come back, my intended? And will they give you these clothes?

During the Civil War press tour we actually got paired for a few interviews together. The studio never consulted this with us, probably hoping that us appearing together would give the movie more publicity (like it didn’t have enough of it already). One of the appearances was Graham Norton after the London premiere. The photos from the event were already out and I couldn’t stop laughing at Chris for looking at my cleavage like he was still breastfeeding.

“We haven’t had sex in like 2 days and you looked so good in that dress, please don’t blame me.” He whispered as we were in the car on our way to the BBC studios.

“There’s people who have sex once a month and you’re complain about a 2-day break, Chris.” I laughed.

“Yeah, but these other people aren’t engaged to you, so…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Emilia Dawson,” Graham said as it was my cue to come out. I walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He then announced Jeremy and Chris. “So, Chris Evans, this is your first time on the show. How did this happen?”

“I have no idea, they never let me do the UK shows for some reason. I guess I’m just not the best ambassador for the US.” He shrugged.

“Well, that ship has sailed.” Jeremy joked.

“Jeremy has been here a few times, but Emilia has been here over 5 times now. The first time you came here was in 2010, when you were 18.” Graham said. “This is a photo from the first time you visited.” He showed a photo of me. It just screamed 2010. I was promoting one of the first American movies I did.

“Yeah, there it is. I think I still have that skirt.” I smiled, analysing the photo. “That was actually the first time my mum thought that I made it. Because I was invited to one of her favourite shows.”

“Well, your mum has a great taste.” Graham smiled sweetly. “Anyway, this is Chris’ fifth Marvel movie, Jeremy’s third and Emilia’s second, right?” We all nodded. “How does it feel to step off the Marvel set and move on to another, smaller movie?”

“Well, Emily and I have just finished a movie in Utah, which was then completely covered in snow, and I still don’t know if I prefer Atlanta in June or Utah in March.” Jeremy said. “But to be fair, those are the sets where you really feel your surroundings, you know what’s going on, that’s the beauty of indie films. With movies like Civil War, you often don’t know what’s going on around you, because we use a lot of CGI or it’s just a secret, so…”

“Jer, we’re here to PROMOTE Civil War.” I laughed, before he went too far with his rant.

“Oh, right,” he pretended to remember. “I mean, being on the set with these guys is really fun, we spend a few months together, thankfully everyone gets along, so it’s pure joy.”

“Clearly, some of you are closer than the others.” Graham whispered, covering his mouth with his card.

I rested my hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Yeah, Jerry and I are really close.” I said, knowing he meant me and Chris.

Chris cleared his throat. “I thought it was suspicious when you said you were just practising sex scenes with him.” Everyone started to laugh. I was really glad we could talk about us while not really focusing on our relationship that much.

“Emilia, I’m sorry he didn’t start with this, congratulations on the Oscar!” Graham cheered and was followed by the audience. “So how has life changed for you?”

“Umm, it hasn’t really... I actually moved for work soon after the Oscars and haven’t been home for the last two months, so I didn’t really get to enjoy it properly.” I explained.

“And where have you decided to keep it? Because Kate Winslet keeps hers in the bathroom, so is yours on display?”

“I haven’t seen it in quite a long time to be honest and I’m not even sure where it is...” I laughed nervously. “Do you think they can make a replica if you lose one?”

“I put it on the fireplace when we came back.” Chris said.

“Riiight, yes! Yeah, he’s right. It was there when I left.” I nodded.

“Oh, seems like we’re getting an inside look into the Devans household.” Graham joked, making both me and Chris narrow our brows at the ‘Devans’ thing. “In case any of you have been living in a cave for the last few months and don’t know that, Chris and Emilia are an engaged couple, congrats.” He turned to the audience who started to cheer for us.

“Devans? Really?” Jeremy questioned.

“Yeah, I’ve never heard it either.” I shrugged. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“It should just be ‘Dodger’s parents’ or ‘Dodger’s roommates’.” Chris said. “Devans sounds like a name some woman gave her child, because she felt Devon was too mainstream.”

I really enjoyed being on a talk show with Chris. After that conversation Graham didn't really mention our relationship. I think he had only done it earlier to use his opportunity as the first host to ever have us both on the show.

Right after the Civil War press tour ended, we came back to reality, which for us meant a lot of wedding planning. We really wanted just a ceremony for our families and friends. Turned out we had much more friends and family than we expected. The initial goal was nothing more than 30, but it was the number of family members we had to invite. In the end, we managed to close the list at 50.

Planning was a nightmare, especially until the end of May when we were both away and couldn’t get anything done. Up to a point, we were trying to organise everything by ourselves, but by January, we had hired a wedding planner. We just told her everything we were expecting and she would send us emails asking for confirmation. The moment we hired her, we decided to go in all the way and thought we could get married somewhere abroad. Chris wanted Italy, but I won with Norway, mainly because there were no free venues in Italy. But also, because I threatened Chris with a blowjob embargo, if we were to get married there.  

Because we were trying to keep the wedding under wraps, we tried not to be seen in some places, so we wouldn’t raise suspicions. The cake samples, for example, were brought to our house, along with flowers. Claire, the wedding planner, also brought our guest list and asked us to make a draft of the seating arrangements.

“I like this one,” I said, chewing on the white chocolate covered raspberry cake. “but I think it might be too sweet for some people.”

“I love it and we should take it.” Chris said. I glared at him, narrowing my eyebrows. “What? It’s our wedding! The cake should suit us, not anyone else.” He continued with a full mouth.

“Would it be possible to make it vegan?” I asked the baker. “I never asked, but I’m guessing that a lot of our guests are vegan. We definitely should have asked.”

“Oh, come on. We'll just put ’Might contain gluten’ signs everywhere.” He shrugged.

“It will taste differently, but I can make it vegan.” The baker said, writing something in his notebook. ‘I’ll try to have it done in about three days.”

“Ok, thank you,” I said. “Claire, can we have the catering company prepare vegan and vegetarian options?”

“Yes, I’ll call them right away.” she nodded and left the kitchen to make a call.

“Chris, not everyone is like you,” I raised my eyebrow. “Now everyone will switch back to eating meat, after being vegetarian for a while, because they feel like they’re turning green.”

“Oh, that was low.” He mumbled.

They all left soon, after making final decisions. We chose flowers and napkins for the tables. Chris said that the napkins looked dangerously similar and he didn’t see a difference in colour.

Since tomorrow was Chris' birthday, we had a dinner reservation at Nobu. Chris thought we were going alone, but I actually had invited some of our friends to join. Scott made the reservation, so they could come in earlier and be there when we arrive.

“I’m going to walk Dodger, but I’ll be back in like 30 minutes, so don’t shower without me, alright?” Chris winked, taking Dodger's lead and opening the door.

“30 minutes on the dot, because we don’t have much time.” I smiled and rushed upstairs to our bedroom. I already knew what I was going to wear. It was a tight, off-shoulder black dress that reached around the middle of my thighs. I’ve worn it a few times already and I knew Chris liked it. I paired it with nude suede high heels, which were also among Chris' favourites. I had a whole section of clothes Chris loved.

I undressed to my underwear and laid down on bed. Chris had only been gone about 5 minutes, so I opened Instagram and scrolled through the main page. I’ve had this urge to post something about our relationship for a while, but knowing that talking about us during the Oscars and the recent press tour was already pushing Chris’ buttons, I didn’t want to bring this up. I got rid of my private Instagram a while ago, when people found out about it and started sending new countless requests. I didn’t really feel the urge to share stuff with people all the time, but like everyone else, I wanted to share some moments with other people. Just once in a while.

Chris’ birthday was a perfect opportunity to do that. We'll see.

I checked the time and it was way past the 30 minutes I gave him. I went to the bathroom to wash off my make-up. Chris was still nowhere to be seen, so I went back to the bedroom and found my phone. I connected it with our home sound system and played Beast of Burden. I untied my hair and brushed it, before taking my underwear off and entering the shower cabin. I stood in the hot water, trying to wash off sweat off my body. It was unbearably hot today and I could only wish it gets cooler when we go out.

I poured some shampoo on my hand and wanted to wash my hair. “Lemme help you.” I heard Chris’ voice behind me. He was leaning on the door frame, watching me.

“I think I can handle washing myself, babe.” I teased, spreading shampoo on my top of my head, before I started rubbing it in. In no time I head Chris slide the glass door to the side and join me in the cabin.

“I insist,” he whispered into my ear, before wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my shoulder. I smirked and tilted my head to the side in order to give him access. “That's more like it...”

I took a step back, pushing my butt into his crotch. Chris grunted as he looked down at his dick pressed against my ass. He leaned on the wall behind him and wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me down on to him. “I can’t believe my luck...” he whispered, palming my cheek and kissing and biting on my shoulder. “I’m marrying the most beautiful, the sexiest woman in the world.”

I turned around to look up at his face, wet hair and flushed skin from the hot water. I ran my fingers along his collarbone tattoo and placed my lips on it, while my hand travelled down to his abdomen. “How much time do we have?” I asked.

Chris smiled and lifted me up only to turn us around and push me against a wall. “Not enough.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. We kissed playfully, biting on each other's lips and tongues, Chris moved his lips to my chin and then neck. His fingers let go of my thigh only to sneak up to my pussy and rub his thumb against my clit. “I wish we could just stay here.” he breathed out, his lips on mine.

“You always wish we could stay in, old man.” I ran my fingers through his wet hair.

Chris' two fingers slipped into me and I gasped, throwing my head back. “Mm, you are so ready for me, baby girl.” He whispered against the skin of my neck. I whined as he moved in and out, still rubbing his thumb against my clit. “Tell me what you want.”

I brought him closer to my body, slamming my lips against his. Chris pulled his fingers out of me and reached out to the handle and turned the water off. He opened the shower and carried me through the bathroom and our bedroom to the study. My pussy brushed against his shaft and it made me moan quietly every time. He laid me down on the cold glass desk and sat on the chair. I felt his lips on my thigh. “Chris, please, just fuck me,” I groaned as his beard brushed against my skin. “Please.”

“When have you become such a cock slut, huh?” Chris whispered and licked my clit quickly, making my hips shot up.

“Probably the first time you fucked me, daddy.” I moaned, putting my hands over my breasts and playing with my nipples. Chris saw what I was doing and bent down in front of my pussy again only to spit on it. He slammed two fingers back inside me and started to move them painfully slowly. He put his hand next to my hip and leaned on it, curling his fingers inside me to hit the right spot. “Please, do it faster, let me cum, I’m so close...” I squirmed under his touch.

“In a second, baby girl, just a second.” he whispered. His thumb hit my clit every time he buried his fingers inside me. At one point I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt the built-up tension release on to Chris’ fingers. “Mhm, yeah.”

He took his fingers out and licked my come off them. “You’re so sweet, baby girl,” he said, stroking his length. “I’m gonna give you what you want now.”

Chris grabbed my calves and placed them on his shoulders. I watched his eyebrows narrow as his tip brushed against my entrance. His chest was still covered in water drops and his hair was damp. A lose strand of hair was sticking to his forehead. He finally lined his cock against my pussy and grabbed a hold of my hips to keep me from falling off the slippery wet surface. He pushed into me, his lips slightly opening.

I felt him fill me up completely and gasped as he stretched me out. “Mmm,” I moaned when Chris started to move slowly inside me. I was still so wet from the orgasm he gave me and now Chris was picking up the pace. He closed his eyes and bit on his lip, completely lost in the pleasure. The way he looked was enough to send me over the edge and to add his cock moving inside me, hitting my g-spot... I came for the second time today, but Chris didn’t stop. He grabbed a hold of my both legs, took them off his shoulders and turned me to lay on my side. A lot of objects set on the desk fell off as he pushed me rapidly, but he then continued to pound into me while also rubbing my clit to make me come even faster.

I couldn’t bear the overstimulation. I shut my eyes as we both came. Chris let out a low grunt as he thrusted into me for the last time. We were both panting, not able to catch our breaths. Chris turned me to lay on my back again, without pulling out. He leaned down and gave me a passionate kiss as he lifted me off the desk. “We need another shower,” he whispered against my lips. His cock slipped out of me and it made both of us moan. He looked down at the mess we made around my abdomen. I giggled as he lifted me up and carried back to the bathroom. My whole body felt like it was made of jelly, I couldn’t move my legs and still wasn’t able to stabilize my breathing.

“If sex with you is so good at 35, then I can’t imagine what it was like to fuck you 10 years ago.” I breathed out.

We obviously didn’t make it to the restaurant on time, but we only had a 20-minute delay. I was very surprised, when I noticed photographers as we arrived at the restaurant. Chris grabbed my hand as we escaped the car and smiled, “Do you think we still have our sex looks on?”

“I hope we do.” I said. Chris stepped in front of me to pave the way through the small crowd of paparazzi. I watched the back of his arms, the well-defined muscles that I gripped to keep myself close to him. Those two sizes too small Henleys he wears are really going to be the death of me.

We entered the restaurant and immediately went in the direction of our lounge. “Isn’t a lounge too big for the two of us?” Chris asked right before noticing people at our table. “Oooh, so that’s happening.”

“Yeah, we really would have stayed at home if I hadn’t made plans with them.”

Scott and his boyfriend, Adam and his girlfriend, Sebastian, Anthony with his wife and Chris Hemsworth were all sitting, waiting for us. I said hi to all of them, while they wished Chris a happy birthday. Scott walked up to me and we hugged, “Stella is here.” He whispered. I felt my muscles tense at the sound of her name.

“That explains the paparazzi,” I forced a smile as he let go of me and we sat next to each other. “Is she sitting at a table nearby?”

“I don’t know, I saw her at the bar and we just said hi to each other. We haven’t had any contact with her since last year, when Chris and her went out once.” Scott explained. I tried not to look around the restaurant. It was pointless anyway, the lounge was in a secluded area and you could barely see anything.

Chris and I agreed that I wouldn’t drink, so I could drive us back home tonight. By agreed, I mean Chris begged me, because he hates being driven around by strangers and he really wanted to drink tonight. Which is why everyone was getting shitfaced – apart from me.

My fiancé kept his hand on my thigh the while time we sat at the table. Because all of our companions have been invited to our wedding, it became the main topic of our conversation.

I actually spoke to Shaletta about getting married abroad. Unfortunately, she was on Chris’ side when it came to the location. Anthony and her got married in Dominican Republic, so she preferred Italy.

“I told you it’s a better idea. If you want to make our guests travel to Europe, at least make sure the conditions are bearable.” Chris shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“Chris, do you think I want to get married on the North Pole?” I asked, “You clearly haven’t even gone though the places I’ve sent you, even though we have already booked the venue.” I snapped.

“So, why are you getting married there, if Chris doesn’t want it?” Seb asked.

“I’m a simple man, Seabass.” Chris shrugged. “My dear fiancée threatened me with a blowjob embargo, to put it in her exact words.”

Everyone laughed at his words, which made me a little bit mad, because I didn’t want it to look, like I was forcing him to do something. Chris noticed my lack of enthusiasm and rubbed his palm against my bare thigh. “No, but I gotta be honest, I would marry her anywhere. If it wasn’t for the fact that our families would murder us, we would’ve eloped a long time ago.”

“Yeah, Mom would be livid.” Scott agreed. “Lisa is a sweetheart, but she can kick ass when she has to.”

I tried to move the topic to something lightly less stressful and we ended up talking about the upcoming presidential election. Of course, Hemsworth and I were excluded from the conversation, but at least we didn’t have to worry about Donald Trump becoming president of our home countries.

“Em, have you thought about getting an American citizenship?” Adam asked.

I raised my eyebrow. “You’ve just finished talking about how a reality TV star has a real chance of getting elected as president, so here’s your answer.” I laughed. “No, to be honest, I haven’t given it any thought yet. The most important thing for me right now is to get married to this guy here and take at least a month off afterwards.”

Chris grinned and wrapped his arm around me. “True. Everything else is just supposed to provide fun for our guests.”

Thankfully, we didn’t have to leave our lounge to order new food and drinks, because at some point I saw Stella walk quite close to us. That was when Chris noticed her, because apparently, Scott only told me about her. Chris noticed that I got a bit uncomfortable and suggested we moved someplace else.

“She’s just your ex, love,” I smiled and put my hand on his cheek. “I’m fine.”

I actually got used to the fact that has dated a lot (at least for me) of women in the past and I’m bound to see or hear about them at some point, so I might as well just try to ignore it. I never considered myself to be a jealous person, but as it turns out, I just never met anyone I cared about enough to be jealous.

The Chrises, Adam and Sebastian went outside for a smoke, while the rest of us stayed behind. We were all leaving, but no one wanted to stand outside with the photographers, if it wasn’t necessary. I handed Chris his sunglasses, cigarettes and a lighter. When he asked me to keep them in my bag the only reason why I didn’t say no, was because we were celebrating his birthday.

After paying the bill for our table, the rest of us left. As I stepped out, I noticed Chris smoking a cigarette by my car. Without saying a word, he reached out his hand to me and placed it on the small of my back. “Thank you.” He whispered.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “What for?”

“Just generally,” he sighed, breathing out the smoke. “For putting up with a big, old, drunk meatball like me.”

I giggled and nuzzled my face into his neck. Despite the cigarette smoke, he still smelled incredible. “I love you, I don’t have a choice.” I whispered.

Chris chuckled and pulled away from me in order to walk back to a bin and throw away the cigarette. On the way back he put a gum in his mouth. Even though he had drank quite a lot, he didn’t look like it. “Can I kiss you now?” he asked as he approached me.

“I’ll make an exception, because it’s after midnight and your birthday.” I nodded lightly. It didn’t take long for him to come up to me and place his lips on mine. He tasted him alcohol, cigarettes and a little bit of mint. I got used to his smoking habit a long time ago, I just didn’t want his to know that, because it would not be a great motivation to stop smoking once and for all.

Chris placed his palms on my cheeks and deepened the kiss by sneaking his tongue into my mouth. I moaned quietly as our tongues touched and I felt a tingly sensation. His arm wrapped around my waist once again, pushing me against his body. I felt his arousal against my lower stomach and grinned at the fact that he was ready again, despite drinking quite a lot. Chris bit on my lip and then pulled away from me. “We should go, before we fuck against the car with photographers behind us.”

I narrowed my eyebrows. I actually forgot about them and realised that we had just served them with a full PDA session. “Yeah, yeah.” I nodded. Chris opened the driver’s door for me and then walked around the car to get in himself.

Chris sang the whole way back (it’s a thing he does when he’s drunk) and tried to hold my hand, but I wouldn’t let him, because I use a manual gearbox and have to keep my hand free all the time. “’m gonna buy you a car with automatic gear.” He mumbled with his eyes closed.

“I’m contractually obliged to drive this for the next two months, until they offer me another one.” I said.

“But you wouldn’t mind if we got a Tesla, right?” he asked. Chris knew that the only car that could make me switch from Jaguar, was Tesla, because I have a thing for electric cars and he know they only come with automatic gear.

“You’re willing to buy a new car, just so you could fool around with me while driving?” I laughed at him.

When we arrived at home, Chris was already asleep in the car and Dodger greeted us at the door, barking in excitement. He barely opened his eyes to walk back home. I told him I’d come in a few minutes, but had to walk Dodger out now. The dog got a bit excited to see us and I decided I should go out with him just in case.

When I came back, Chris was lying on the sofa in he living room downstairs. He always falls asleep there, because there’s a nice, cool breeze coming from the open terrace doors. He took off everything except for his boxers. “Baby, let’s go upstairs.” I said, sitting down next to him and gently nudging his bare chest with my finger.

He groaned and slightly opened one eye for a second before closing it again. “Let’s sleep here tonight,” He mumbled. “The air is amazing here, it should be our permanent bedroom.”

“Fine.” I sighed.

I went upstairs to change into the slip I wear at night and grabbed Chris’ pyjama bottoms and a blanket.

“Chris, wear these.” I said, handing him the pants. He looked up at me and groaned, but then took the clothing. While he was changing, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed some water for my fiancé as he will definitely need some in the morning.

“Have I ever told you that you look mesmerising right before bed?” Chris asked as I squeezed myself into the space between him and the back of the sofa. He had some trouble pronouncing “mesmerising”.

“Possibly,” I smiled and placed my hands on his hair as he moved to snuggle his face into my neck and cleavage. “Go to sleep, handsome.”

I woke up around 10am, when Chris was still soundly asleep. He moved down and his head was now on the same height as my stomach, with his arm around my hips. He pulled my slip up, so his beard was scratching my skin. He groaned lightly as I scratched his head, before reaching out for my phone.

Hannah had sent me an email earlier in the morning. I checked it out and saw a few articles with similar titles from Daily Mail, People and TMZ.

“Exes Chris Evans and Stella Smith unintentionally reunited at Nobu last night, where Captain America celebrated his birthday with new fiancée and friends”

“He cheated on me with Emilia Dawson, Stella Smith tells her friends”

“Chris Evans, Emilia Dawson walk into a bar – what now?”

I knew that if she sent me these articles, she thought I should read them, so I took a deep breath and opened the first one.

“... Smith arrived first, accompanied by a bunch of photographers, who were then surprised to see Evans and Dawson arrive about 30 minutes later. It is said that the engaged couple did not interact with Evans' ex, apart from a quick nod between Chris and Stella, when he was out for a smoke and she was leaving. It was visible that Emilia was quite uncomfortable knowing she’s somewhere there, but who wouldn’t be?”

“People from Stella's close surroundings have confirmed, that she’s been claiming Chris cheated on her with Emilia and they were still together when the Captain America actor and Dawson started dating.”

“... with Smith's new claims in the picture, we now look at the whole case in a different way. The cheating part would explain the tension between the exes during yesterday's outing. Apparently, the exes were even living together when the affair started.”

Great. Now I’m a homewrecker.

I came back to the email and checked what Hannah has written:

“Normally, I wouldn’t recommend that, but Chris’ and your movie comes out later this year and we don’t want another Angelina, Brad and Jennifer thing. I would suggest publishing a statement denying these allegations, containing some details, because if she’s actually been saying that, then we might be facing a bigger problem.”

Chris shifted and took a big breath through his nose. He stretched out his arms and looked up at me, with his sleepy, half-closed eyes. “Hi, sexy.” He murmured, before pulling my body close to his and scratching his beard against the soft skin on my stomach.

I smiled at him and found Hannah’s number, then simply texted her: “Do your worst.”

-

(Sidenote: I changed the name of one of Chris' exes, because I made her into a much bigger bitch than I thought I would)

@daybreak96 @coffeebooksandfandom @smilexcaptainx @betinalunardi @rollinsuh @lily2089@stella2445@hy-pocrite @l0rd-disick @beholdoritou @klaussstilinski@achishisha@givenchymercury @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @henry-cavill-gossip-girl @rock-titties @bombsandsparkles @marvel-fan23 @cap-just-said-language @blackaestheticislife @justsomemarvelspam @nerdchester17 @shyofaspark @cssrogersse@crispyearthquakezombie@ultragalaxy @bit-of-a-timelord @kingofallthingsz@morguleth@calicokitkat @areelphony@gemgemswift @donut-crazs@dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa@kandomeresbitch @deafeningpsychicpandahands @severely-theoretic@chmedic @patzammit@winterssoliderss @metalarmlover @saturnki @coolkimchijoy16 @sammyjammy92@coolkimchijoy16 @peruvian-bae​ @avngersx

[paw-patrol-kiddo]

2017 for my regressive side

Well guys, this is it; we’re really already at the end of 2017! Hard to believe, ain’t it? Well, I normally don’t do year review thingies, bu’ I figured I should probably do one this year, mostly cause this year’s been the best out of all the years of my life- and that’s saying a lot. I mostly wanna cover what this year has held for my regressive side, also with bits of stuff that happened in my big girl life!

If ya want, I’d love if ya made one of these posts about what this year held for your regressive side and you tagged me in it! Chances are, I’ll be reading it and replying very quickly! 

Anyways, time for the year review! It begins below the cut!

This year’s held a lot of things for my regressive side; a lot more than the previous years. I’m going to try and cover everything, for every month of the year!

January held my fifteenth birthday and also marked four years since I started liking diapers nonstop again, which ultimately led to me beginning to age regress. I discovered that it seems my regressive side is most active this month, something that’s really helpful to know for obvious reasons. I attempted to indulge in my regressive side discreetly to cope with stress, as I was still hiding this whole thing at the time and seldom spoke about it to Kaiya, my younger sister. I also remember that the month before, I stopped identifying as a chireb, and was trying to find a new label for myself, but was failing. This was frustrating to me.

I don’t really remember a whole lot about February! Not much that I can note, that is. Thinking about it, this month is kinda a blurry, confusing mess if that says anything; I just can’t remember a whole lot from it! I think either this month or the month after was when I gave up on finding a label and just settled on the generic age regressor term.

March held quite a bit of things for my big girl side; I began playing baseball, got my own room at last, and mourned the loss of a big part of my preteen and early teenagehood when Club Penguin shut down. Even with more privacy for my regressive side and my life in general, I mostly forgot about my regressive side around this time and moved on with my life.

April doesn’t hold a lot of notable things for agere, either. I do know that starting four months before, I started feeling other ages in my identity (I feel all the ages I regress to in my identity. Like, I feel like them and at times, that for example, I’m a 7-year-old trapped in a teenager’s body. It’s not a fun feeling) and I accepted two without a problem (10 and 11), but I continued to deny and push aside another age I felt, thinking it seemed too young. After all, I was content with my youngest being two-years-old; or so I thought.

I wanna say May started getting a bit tough. As the spring season of baseball drew closer to the end, of course, my regressive side began trying to rise from the depths. The little girl inside me wanted attention and more space. She couldn’t keep sitting back and hiding forever.

The most I could do for my little self was watch toddler and little kid shows in private, play with my toys, play children’s games online, and color. Not a whole lot, clearly, and I was still self-conscious of a lot of this. I am sure this is the time where I began feeling trapped regarding all of this. 

June began to show signs of easier times. Baseball finally ended for the summer, which of course, led to the “Well dang; what am I gonna do with my life til the fall season?” moment. My regressive side, of course, took the wheel for most of the summer at this point. Hiding this was becoming very hard; I had to find some way to cope, some way to be open, anything. My little side could hardly take it anymore; this month or the next month marked four years since she first stepped into my life and you can only hide yourself for so long before it becomes too much (I had been making an effort to hide for a year or two before then).

Towards the end of the month, I finally reluctantly accepted the fact I seemed to regress to age 1 and 4 days later, I finally gathered the courage to make this blog, something I had thought about for a year, but could never do it. I told myself if I regretted it, I could just delete it, no problem; that was what I was expecting I’d end up doing. 

But instead, with a place I could be little, the trapped feeling began to ease. I was scared, of course, but also relieved and very happy. In fact, I was so happy that when I went to the bathroom shortly after a brief flood-reblog, I had to happy stim for a minute or two before I could actually do what I came in there for. I gave Mom and Kaiya the link to this blog. I’m sure making this blog is one of the best decisions I’ve made this year- and I’ve made a lot.

Making the blog reminded of my love for diapers, which brought back a memory of when Mom sneakily bought some for me the summer before. Talking about it here was really hard at first and took a lot of courage, but if you can’t tell, I can do it without flinching or hesitating now. After a quick chat with Mom, I decided at last, I’d finally try them whenever Dad left the house for a few hours (shout-out to the anon who sent that ask after I posted about it, you’re amazing and I hope you had a wonderful year. We need more people like you. Also, I started happy stimming when I reread the ask before linking it here).

Also, I rediscovered Small Elephant (I received the lil guy as a gift a year before and played with him once, but never got too attached to him) around this time and idk what exactly happened or how it did, but apparently, I ended up attached to him and I still am. He’s my lil vacation/severe weather evacuation buddy now.

July was a blast! I finally tried out my diapers shortly after Dad left to help out at a vape and tattoo shop he volunteers at and by the time I finally changed out of my first diaper, I had officially decided I was wearing them for the rest of my life (not as in 24/7, but... I’m sure ya know what I mean). The only problem is that because I was used to seeing what all the a/b/d/l community advertised, I ended up developing a rash the second time I wore and had to learn how to take care of myself properly mostly by myself with the occasional help from Mom and the internet (and literally now is when I see everyone from that community talking about the proper way to do things...).

The day I tried diapers out, I tried out regressing to age 1 to see how I’d like it and well, the rest is history. ;) 

Kai relearned of the diapers this month (read it once somewhere on my blog according to Mom, then I had to tell her about a sample pack on the way, and then Mom had to have a conversation with her about it in the car when they were the only ones in there) and said she was cool with it and briefly even began joking about the whole age regression thing (in a friendly way, mind you).

I told Kim, my older sister, about my regression, and she took it wonderfully, of course. I also told a friend of mine about my regression and liking of diapers, who also took it just fine and showed a lot of support for it. 

I began to indulge more and more into this and I even had a friend who also age regressed by the end of this month (Rayyyyyyy~). 

I went to Florida with Mama, Kai, and a former (? I don’t even know anymore, honestly) friend of Mama’s and it held some interesting adventures there, too! I took Small Elephant places, regressed at the beach twice (@ Kai, psst. Remember when I trapped you in that hug and almost sunk us into the ocean? Well, there’s your reason why), got a Winnie the Pooh book from Goodwill, and indulged in some tasty smiley fries one afternoon! Clearly, this month is one of the best for my age regression. The little girl inside was happy; I was no longer feeling trapped.

August was pretty wild. Small Elephant came with me to Georgia; I don’t think he got to come along on any adventures outdoors, however. I got a jack-in-the-box style toy with a mama kangaroo and her baby joey inside. I also regressed at some point at our cabin and enjoyed running around outside just before a storm blew through. Mom chose to tell someone about my age regression without my permission (talk about a thought to occupy yourself down the lengthy lazy river) and thankfully, that person was fine with it. I was thinking about telling her not too long before, funny enough. I’d prefer permission and a warning before telling someone, though, aha.

I got two “0+ months” pacifiers that month from Mom and literally spent 2 hours sucking on them, save for when I briefly stopped to switch; needless to say, my TMJ relapsed very quickly after around six months of absence of symptoms, aha.

My ex broke up with me (I got with him back in May), despite promising that no breakup would happen 3 days before. This was mostly a good thing, though; no more worrying about how and when to tell him about the diapers and age regression! I’ve been single since and content with it. The thought of telling my future boyfriend(s) this is terrifying, but maybe he’ll be fine with it. Maybe I’ll even meet someone who also likes diapers (nonsexually, mind you) and age regresses as well! I imagine that’s a once in a blue moon thing, though.

We also told Dad about my regression and he took it fine, something that surprised me, as I was genuinely not expecting it. Mom didn’t tell him a lot and eventually, decided to back off for a bit temporarily after mentioning that I “liked to act like a 7/5-year-old sometimes” and that I liked pacifiers and wanted one (this was after I got mine). According to Mom, he didn’t respond to the pacifiers thing and honestly, it’s still kinda scary (if it’s the no reply I think it is, I got him to do it back in October and it’s really unsettling). I don’t know what it means and I don’t think I want to know. He still doesn’t know about the pacifiers to this day. It’s wild.

September held its own adventures. I finally rediscovered an old bag of Mom’s (I mostly remember it because she had it when I was an ‘’actual’’ toddler) and what’s inside? A baby bottle I held on to for three years from when my parents had me treat Puzzle Piece as if he were a baby, thinking it’d rid of my age regression tendencies (if anything, I think this just fed it tbh). I planned to wash it and perhaps try it out or look into a new one.

This also held a notable visit from my older sister. She was told about my liking of diapers and you probably guessed it, her response was coming to my room (I panicked and ran away while she was on the way to the living room after Mom called her in there), giving me a hug, and saying, “I love and support you no matter what you do”. My sisters are great if you can’t tell, and I also mean that outside of agere.

The night before the diaper reveal, Mom noticed me lying on Kim while she rocked the recliner one evening and Mom offered to rock me someday while Dad was gone, something I accepted pretty quickly. I got Mom to rock me for the first time ever two days later. Mom also told me that Dad was fine with the rocking, hence why I was rocked literally right next to him at some point, and he even said he could rock me someday. I don’t think I could do that, though; age regression related stuff is really hard to do around him, and I’d be too worried about his back (he has a bad back).

That month, the day before the rocking part took place, I finally gathered the courage to actually refer to her as “Mommy” on here, along with “Daddy” for Dad. It honestly feels so good to do. I just find it sad I was so scared to use those words at first thanks to the kink/sters. I refer to those two regularly by those titles, mostly to try and reclaim those words as innocent, pure words I call my parents occasionally, rather than terms that are tainted with reminders of ki/nk. Mommy’s easier to use, because I’m closer to Mom than Dad (as of late, that is), and also because “Mommy” isn’t as corrupted as “Daddy”.

I got a Pooh Bear sleeper the day of my second baseball game of the fall season. It’s soft and it makes me feel like a toddler; the only problem is that it’s so easy to overheat in it (which really sucks because I’m hypersensitive to heat and can’t handle getting really hot) and sleepers take up a lot of room in a dresser.

Oh, and this month, Mom called me a nick name she uses for me quite a bit now; “My baby”. Out of all the nicknames I know, I never thought of that. I still melt when she calls me it tbh.

October was a mix, really. I don’t remember a whole lot involving this, really. Rocked by Mom again, got another sleeper, and witnessed Kaiya prove that she was okay with the whole diaper thing by insisting she was fine with it, actually going to the adult diaper aisle with us at Wal-Mart (she stayed a bit away from us, though), and when the cashier bagged the diapers up, she moved so dang fast and had them hidden in no time. I know this because I watched her load other stuff into the cart and she was much more relaxed. I did see her look into the cart at some point before we went to check-out, so perhaps she memorized what the package looked like so she could hide them? Idk if she remembers it or if she’d even want to talk about it, so... Who knows

Towards the end of the month, something began happening. I don’t know what, but it eventually led to me becoming depressed again for a little while, but we’ll discuss that in a few minutes. I discovered I was so indulged in my regression I actually forgot aspects of myself and chose to take a break for a week the next month. I came back feeling better about agere and somewhat better about myself in general. I still don’t understand what happened, but it hasn’t happened again since. Hopefully, it’ll never happen again.

November was a pretty miserable month for me tbh. Has a few good or at least neutral parts, mostly in the beginning, of course. One of these is that I discovered that I can go so deep into my baby mindset (I refer to my 1-year-old self as a baby for brevity) that I’ll chew on things without a thought and well, perhaps that other part’s a bit tmi. I also finally tried out my bottle one evening; very comforting and relaxing.

In the middle of the month, I struggled with accepting that perhaps I did need meds after all (spoiler: I definitely need them) and stress from this, a fixation on childhood trauma, and chores, which were gradually becoming stressful instead of enjoyable, began building up. I began to fall back into a depression, something I was in denial about the entire time.

It was this time that I noticed I was having a harder time regressing, something that was terrifying to me. I was scared that perhaps my regressive side was going dormant; one of my biggest fears is that I stop regressing for good and I was scared that was what was about to happen. That was, until one night, I had an involuntary episode briefly. I didn’t think much of it and went on with my night as normal once it concluded. I don’t know why I didn’t become concerned; involuntary episodes are rare for me, after all. But then, I thought I was about to have a block, so I guess that’s why I thought nothing of it.

I tried my best to cope with everything, but it was futile. One night, just witnessing the dog we were dog-sitting have an accident and having to take all three by myself while they all cried and tried to get out just made me snap, I guess. I fell deeper into my depression, began craving to be an actual baby/young toddler again for the first time in a couple of years, and briefly began having involuntary regression episodes every night. Wearing a diaper to bed and having Small Elephant with me every night for a couple of nights, drinking from my bottle one night, spending more time with my pacifiers, and easing up on everything I could helped pull me out of it.

I still don’t understand what exactly happened, but I hope it never happens again. Also, I guess this confirms that I have involuntary regression episodes when I’m overly stressed. Hopefully the next time this happens, my regressive side will keep me afloat, like it always has.

December was pretty good! I got rocked again by Mom while I was being bottlefed by her, got a new bottle and a toddler snack, and got more toddler snacks later on that day (again, Kaiya moved them to another bag quickly before Mom gave me the bag with them inside). Dad learned about the bottles and snacks and thankfully, is alright with it. I wish it was the same way with diapers. He still doesn’t know about me wearing diapers behind his back, as you probably guessed, and it will stay that way for a while. 

I think I kinda cheated another depressive episode, but? It never came. I was just really grumpy and easily upset for a while, to the point of punching my bed and stomping, which I hardly do (heck, I still am as of right now, but it’s calmed down some). I wish whatever my brain’s doing would stop, because it’s getting rather annoying and I’d rather not spend any longer whining frequently and worrying about getting upset to the point of punching or kicking my closet door off its hinges or something. :’)

Christmas was great; I mostly got big girl gifts (see: My new camera) or at least neutral gifts (see: My stim toys and maybe my Pikachu necklace), but I did get a few things that appealed to my regressive side, like a set of five different Paw Patrol puzzles, a penguin plushie with my name written on its tummy (glitter and everything!), and an Animal Jam playset thing!

To end this year off, I got a sippy cup, one of my most-wanted regression items around that time. Now, if only I could actually bring myself to wash my bottle and sippy cup in the dishwasher (they’re top rack safe)... I guess I can start off the new year washing them after I listen to Bring Me to Life or maybe while I’m listening to it, hee hee hee.

As you can see, I had a pretty wild year full of adventures and experiences! You know what? Why don’t I mention some folks who played a role in making this year the best?

Mom - Mom, I think you know how you’ve helped. You’re literally a big aspect in this post. When I was 12, I thought I’d never have your support about all of this, but now, here we are. You’re my mommy and I’m your baby and I always will be. I love you.

Kai - Sis, I think you see your role here, too. I thought you’d never support me, either, but here we are. Thank you for being cool with the diapers and everything else and always being respectful about it. I love you. Also, sorry for almost drowning us that time

Kim - You don’t get on Tumblr anymore, but I figured you deserved your own spot here, anyways. You haven’t gotten to see a lot, but you’ve still been very supportive of all this. Thank you for being fine with it and loving me for who I am, no matter what I choose to do. I love you. Also, I still can’t get over the fact that you seemed to do so good with little me that one time and you didn’t even know I was regressed at the time and you literally treat me how you treated regressed me all the time, but I still can’t get over it

Ray - You were my first friend who also age regressed. Tbh, I’ve admired ya from afar for like, a year before we started talking, but I was always scared to talk to ya. Thank you for being so supportive, helping me out and offering help for things occasionally. Also, thank you again for the regression moodboard ya made in the past for me! I still think about it a lot, and have looked at it so much that I’m pretty sure I have it ingrained into my brain.

Bug - We haven’t known each other for long, but I wanted to say thank you for taking an interest in me and being my friend. You’re adorable and so sweet (and so is your fursona. I love seeing other people’s fursonas, ahhh). My bumblebee plushie told me to tell you he said hi~

Leah - We haven’t known each other for long, either, but you’ve been so sweet to me the entire time we have. Thank you for the times you’ve checked on me when I didn’t seem to be doing so well. We need more people like you. Honestly, your kindness is goals for me; I’m always wanting to be kind at all times and you’ve got that perfect amount, it seems.

All my other followers - I can’t list all of y’all, so I figured y’all should get your own honorable mention in one go~ Some of you I’ve known almost as long as this blog has been around (6 months!), some of you I’ve only recently gotten to know. I don’t know why y’all followed me, but I appreciate it. Thank y’all for following me, sticking around, and just being all-around cool. Y’all are adorable and lovely and I love y’all (and so is everyone else who got a specific mention. Yes, I love you guys, too).

I think 2017 is the best year for my age regression by far and the best year of my life in general. I’ve learned things, laughed, cried, shook from excitement and fear, grinned, and stimmed in many different ways for many different emotions. I can finally be myself without feeling as much shame. An autistic, ADHD teenage girl who is occasionally in diapers and often feels more like a little girl than a teenager sure is an interesting thing to be, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I don’t know what 2018 could bring, but I am ready for whatever it throws at me, whether it be pie (fun fact: I have never eaten pie before), problems with other people about this, or a pack of diapers.

To all my fellow age regressors, I hope 2018 brings you lots of happiness, acceptance for who you are by others and yourself, and anything you may want for your regressive side, whether it be more toys, a sippy cup, or a lot of marathons for your favorite cartoon/anime/TV show. Even if it’s hard for you right now, it will get easier; I promise.

Happy new year!! Stay little/tiny/smol.

[cavalava]

personal stuff below

Hey all you lovely people, you.

Here's a warning that this is personal stuff. There's no punchline, no joke, no nothing. It's downhill from here. Also that i know there's going to be something triggering somewhere in here and i gurantee you I'll forget to come back to this warning to put the actual triggers in, but the real ones will be in the tags. But this is your warning.

I feel like i can talk here because while i know some of you, i don't know a bunch of you (even if I'd like to). I just want to get it out there, even if to strangers, before i get it out there to the people i know, because it's horrifyingly hard for me to admit to any of this. To whom it may concern, this is the reason I've fallen off the face of the Earth.

I've found myself depressed. Deeply, horribly depressed. The worst part is, i know exactly why. But i don't know what to do with that. So let's start from the top.

So 2016. December. My mom gets rushed to the hospital after she's found delusional in bed with what we think is the flu. They diagnose her as septic, eight hours in the emergency room. I wasn't home that day due to Pagan stuff, my dad lied and said she'd be home the next day, they put her into a coma to keep her alive.

Two weeks pass. They took her off the paralysis meds the week before, she starts to wake up. By this time I'm in classes again and before class my dad called me to tell me the news that she's talking again. I drag my professor into the hall and start crying and tell her what's happened but i feel like I'm lying. Luckily, she believes me. She lets me skip class to go back to the hospital, two hours away, to see my mom. From here on out I'm driving two hours there and two hours back every weekend.

A couple weeks later, i wake up in a bed that's not mine next to a man i never even got the last name of. I get a call from my dad and he tells me not to go back to my hometown but to go to Chicago instead, which is still probably two hours of driving with traffic even if it's closer. He cites that she "needs better health professionals" than my hometown hospital can give her because of her hands and feet, which have grown black due to the blood pressure meds she was on for the first two weeks. I don't think much of it but i go anyway.

I visit with her and my dad recommends that he and i go to the cafeteria to get dinner. I agree since my wallet has been drained with gas prices.

We go down and get burritos. He tells me he lied. That it's not about the professionals. It's that she needs to have her hands and feet amputated. He starts crying, telling me he doesn't even know how to tell her, his wife, my mother, the strongest woman we know, who prides herself on her looks, who wears high heels everywhere, who owns her own business, who we lovingly called "Wonder Woman" for half my life, who has finely manicured nails that were just done for Christmas, who can look any man in the eye and tell him he's not worthy, who taught me everything i know about being the human embodiment of courage. That she needs to lose her hands and feet.

It didn't click. Not until the night of the surgery. My father and her parents were in the room, waiting for her to be rolled back in on the bed. I remember her coming in, her arms and legs bandaged up, her still half drugged from the meds. She attempted to look at her hands, which she lifted, but nothing was there. My father calmly and gently didn't let her look. The world felt like it was spinning. It felt like a nightmare. That it couldn't be real. That night i sat on the edge of the top floor of the ten story parking garage and considered pushing myself off. I didn't. I tried to drive home but got fifteen minutes away before i panicked and called my friend to ask him to stay at his place. I made it there and did that instead.

A month or so goes by. I've started drinking and smoking, both habitually. My mother has been in therapy. She's set to go home early, on March 8th, 2017, rather than the next month she was supposed to. I was going to skip class on that Thursday to go see her at home, but instead i found myself in a car crash and afraid to try to drive it again. It takes me a while to get enough money to get it fixed.

I finished up the semester with only one failed class. My usually strict parents give me a break on it. I still needed to retake it for my major.

Summer comes around. I started vaping instead of smoking (I'm trash but it makes my parents happier). I met my current boyfriend. Things are good. But they're not. I'm home more, i need to take care of my mom more, i have more responsibility. Everybody tells you how you'll teach your kids to walk and eat, nobody tells you you might need to do so for your mother. On occasion, she cries and tells me she wishes she had died instead. I don't know what to tell her.

At this time, my grandfather, who had dementia and wasn't truly himself anymore, passes away. Somehow, it's relieving, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

School starts up again. I have a lot of things to do in my senior year. The semester rolls forward, i find myself more depressed, to the point where i can't even peel myself out of bed most days, even to eat. I fail my class in my major first semester. I can't graduate. All i wanted to do was die. I was a failure. I couldn't do what i spent four years working my ass off for. Just let me die.

But i didn't. I kept on. I kept working. I kept going. I don't know why. I wanted to give up, and in some regards, i did. I failed at a lot of things, including two classes second semester and my sorority's presidency. I couldn't handle it all. I couldn't handle anything. I was a mess. I often drank myself to sleep at night. I rarely attended classes. Some of my professors knew what was going on, but there was nothing they could do, and it's not their fault. I had two friends die last semester. One was my friend Drew, who welcomed me into the UU church i attended, who took his own life. The other was Griffin, who i talked to often in a class that i still failed, who was struck by a vehicle in front of campus at 19. Both were so hard for me to handle.

My parents made me walk for graduation, having filled out a petition to let me walk with my class. It was mostly for my own family than anything, as they don't know anything of my failing, which just makes me feel worse. I walked, but i know i didn't earn it. I know i didn't deserve it. It just hurt more, watching my other successful classmates walk and leave me behind. I knew i shouldn't have been there. I didn't want to be there. The cap, the gown, the parade, they were all a monument to my failure. People hugged me. Congratulated me. I didn't deserve any of it. People who knew me asked why i was there. I didn't know either. It wasn't right for me to pretend like i could be with them. I wasn't with them. And part of me is spiteful that they left me there. But it's not their fault for seeking their own success. It's not their fault for hurting me, less so for not knowing how much it hurt me.

I don't deserve anything.

I don't want to graduate at all now. I'm so close but i know that I'll get even worse in a month when i go back. Why try? Why bother? I did my time and i fucking failed. Why risk wasting more time and money?

Over the summer i tried to set up a Pagan organization for my area. As per usual, my depression got the better of me and i ended up isolating myself, becoming afraid of interaction. I'm no longer part of it. I lost the ambition that i had with my previous one, i couldn't do it. I'm ashamed of that. I don't know what to do with that. I'm trying not to think about it.

Now I'm back to living neither here nor there. I'm living with my boyfriend at his parents' house during the week and living in my apartment on weekends. Neither feels like home. It's taking its toll on both of us. We're waiting for his job to get transferred, but it's taken two months longer than it was supposed to now. We hope for September, before school gets in again, but that's getting closer and closer with no sign of progress. It feels a lot like traveling back and forth from my dorm to the hospital and i don't know what to do with that either.

Not to mention i need to get a job myself. Which wouldn't be hard if i tried, but i currently don't have a car or a solid living place or motivation or anything. And maybe that makes me lazy. Maybe that makes me awful. Maybe that makes me a failure again. But i know that if i got a job I'd just fuck that up too.

I don't know what the point of this is. Maybe it's to tell you guys. Or somebody. Or anybody. Maybe it's to get it out. I'm really not sure. I just want to be normal again. I just want to live normally, to be able to get up in the morning, to be able to be who i was, to feel human again. But I'm not sure when or if that will be.

I'm sorry.

I want to be better.

Thank you for reading i guess. I need sleep.

[megwaynebrundell]

Holland 2017

13 September 2017 (Meg) The alarm went off at 1am last Thursday morning waking us rudely from a very deep sleep that had only started 90 minutes earlier. At 1.30 we were showered dressed and waiting outside for the taxi to drive us to th airport. I've said it before but feel the need to say it again, I will only get out of bed before 600 to catch a plane, otherwise it just hurts too much.

The flight, unusually seemed to pass quickly, Emirates classic music collection was so nostalgic with about 35% of it being from my misspent youth.

I dipped in and out of sleep with the reassuring sounds from favourite Uncles Leonard, Neil and Boz, mixed in with some Pink Floyd and some old fashioned 80's funk, which spirited me back to an earlier carefree time. I admit to being grateful for the noise cancelling earphones so that I could grab a bit of rest without being disturbed by crying babies.  I have a very primal reaction to crying babies particularly when sleep deprived and I get really judgmental so not hearing them is better for every one.

Blurry eyed a weary we stumbled our way through Dutch customs out into the world to wait for the bus to take us to the hotel. I immediately recognise the familiar smell of Holland to me it's a mixture of cigarettes, vaping and marijuana. Everyone was completely relaxed when a middle aged woman wearing a hijab quietly lit up a doobie.

I love the Dutch, they are so tall and comfortable in the space they occupy, they are direct and look you in the eye when speaking to you, they have their own vibrant boho style and are really good looking, I love that they don't seem to know that.

Another thing that I love about the Dutch is that most of them speak English, to some degree even to each other. For example, I heard this Dutch guy talking to his mates, the other day, they were all animatedly talking about I don't know what ( it was all Dutch to me)  they were laughing and joking with each other as they went, he stopped them all  saying very seriously " I shit you not" before taking off again in Dutch and disappearing around the corner.

Not long after we arrived, we were actually waiting for the bus to transport us to our hotel in Amsterdam, the rain started.

AMSTERDAM RAIN

We stayed the second night I Nijmegen, feeling tired and wired we ate at the little Turkish diner across the road, having eaten there a coupe of times last year and loved it.

We were just staring our first course when a couple of young men walked in and up to the counter, loudly asking the server "Do you speak English ?" Before she could answer or offer him a menu he announced ( again way too loudly)" you wont have anything for me here I"m a vegan, so Ill just have a black coffee!"

(Yes I'm aware this is a nasty insensitive and judgemental stereotype. Please don't get me wrong, I know a few vegans, some of my best friends are vegan, lots of our family are vegan, Wayne and I have experimented with veganism occasionally, even our favourite daughter is a vegan! So I am aware that not all Vegans are wankers.)

It's worth pointing out that at this point we were having soup, mine was roasted tomato (vegan) and Wayne's was lentil (also vegan)  served with a huge basket of  warm Turkish bread ( you've guessed it also vegan) if this fella had bothered looking he might have seen that there was a reasonable selection of vegan foods on the menu.

If he only wanted coffee why didn't he just ask for a coffee like his slightly embarrassed mate behind him did a bit later?

But that's not the point is it..... if he didn't announce that he was a vegan how would everyone know and how on earth will they know that he was morally superior to them?

I shit you not........