#one of the flatmates made it to be mean and didn't think I'd see it

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

My biggest skill is automatically assuming the most absurd worst case scenario and then believing it whole heartedly.

[nimonabigbang]

Participant Spotlight — Wiz!

Writer pinch hitter, Artist pinch hitter | Tumblr: @wizisbored | AO3: Wiz_is_bored

Wiz's dog is called William and he is an old man (twelve)

Why did you join the Nimona Big Bang?

I had only just watched the film for the first time when the original sign-ups were happening. I considered it, but ultimately decided that I wasn't invested enough in the fandom yet to commit. Fast-forward to my hundreth time watching it with my flatmate, at least one wip deep already (I don't remember if the cowboy au was around at the time), and I have an idea for another fic. We're a few weeks away from a uni deadline and my project isn't going anywhere good so I decide that I won't start the fic until after hand-in, and I won't even mention it on tumblr to avoid distracting myself. When I do eventually start I think hey, I've made it this far, let's see how long I can keep this to myself. So when I see the post asking for writer pinch-hitters, I've already got 600-800 words of a secret fic that I have a solid plan for, and that isn't going to be an ungodly length like most of my ideas. So, here I am.

Share something you like about the Nimona movie or comic.

This allegorical pink shapeshifter is the thing that made me fully understand why representation matters to people. I'd watched stuff with explicit, literal trans rep before and thought 'oh hey trans person' and 'oh hey trans thing I do that' but I never *felt* anything. I appreciated it more in a 'making trans stuff visible to other people' way than anything, but really it didn't mean all that much to me. But Nimona *resonates*. I don't care if it's not explicit or literal it made me *feel* something, for the first time. And I have theories as to why that is, but without going into all that I can only be thankful to the filmmakers who saw something there and ran with it. I still yell 'cis man behaviour' at Ballister on the train every time.

Favorite characters: Nimona (movie version), Nimona (comic version), the Director

Other fandoms: Beetlejuice the Musical

Other hobbies: I play irish tenor banjo and am working on transfering that skill to mandolin, collect horse brasses and country records from charity shops, and dabble in various arts and crafts.

Is there anything else that you'd like to share about yourself?

I study performance design at university with a personal focus on theatre puppetry, and have just started a project where I will be building a life-sized Nimona puppet. Unsure how much of that I'll be able to share online, but I'm excited.

[adolin]

Further to Keeley saying yes to marrying Roy (definitely agree), how much would Roy only be asking because he thinks that's what you do. Like he's retired, he's forty, and all his former teammates are married/have kids. He's a traditional guy (kind of) - would he have waited for them to have been together for two years (or whatever) and then proposed because that's the next step?

Context: this is a follow-up to this 'unpopular opinion meme' ask where I said that (to me, etc) Keeley would've said yes if Roy ever asked her to marry him post S2.

In general, I just looove to overthink gender roles and performative heterosexuality with these characters, because the mix of sports series + juicy queer dynamics is like catnip to my brain — so thank you for this ask so I can ramble about it some more!

The thing is. I think Roy's actually not very traditional for a footballer (let alone a very famous one) simply because he's close to forty and he's never been married and doesn't have kids. Like, genuinely, that makes him a huge oddity in his set. If I were applying RL football logic to the football show that plays fast and loose with realism, I'd say that there must be a lot of speculation in-universe that Roy is gay. OR maybe he's had so many public short-term flings that there's only a little speculation — but there would still be people thinking it's strange. Just because "WAG and kids" is such a big aspect of how football stars are expected to perform masculinity, and Roy not having any of that (while at the same time performing a very specific brand of 'old school' tough guy masculinity) would make him a weird anomaly.

(When talking to non-sports fans, I usually find it useful to compare pro athletes to active-duty military personnel as two categories that on average start a family very young. It's a mix of a family providing more stability in a hectic career + expectations in those circles because everyone else is doing it + financial reasons that mean is more convenient to do it now than to wait)

(Again. Reflecting on social norms in footballers' circles makes me think a lot about what Keeley's expectations might have been pre-S1, when she kept dating footballers and moving in those same circles, whether the fact that she was with a young guy at 30 bothered her more than she let on, etc etc. This is also part of why I think she absolutely would say yes if Roy proposed — see also her reaction to Shandy saying that all their former flatmates "married footballers", which is just like "yeah, fair enough". I think pre-season 3 she just never saw her life going in a different direction, and was fine with it — at least until S3 made her consider stuff she might not have otherwise)

Anyway SORRY I went off!! Back to Roy — all that ramble was to say that, TO ME, if he wanted to be married, he absolutely would be already, way before the show started. It's something he must have considered earlier in life, just because it's a staple of the Ideal Footballer Career Path, and for whatever reason decided he wasn't keen on it. And it wasn't a one-off earlier — it's something people would have commented on it over and over, as all his teammates started families and he didn't, as the tabloid press speculated on his private life. It's not that he never had the opportunity; it's that he actively chose not to. So I'm not sure retirement would necessarily be the thing that makes him decide that "it's time" to get married. We see that in S2 he really throws himself into ~playing house~ with Keeley because he's trying to find a new life anchor after retirement, but idk if that would necessarily translate, to him, into "next step is getting married." Because, for someone in Roy's position, getting married would have been "the next step" ten years ago, and he was like, nah!

I also think that "when will Roy and Keeley get married" WAS an expectation that was very much present in the eyes of everyone who interacts with them, at least from the moment it became clear that they were serious and basically living together. Tabloid speculation, old friends of Roy who're also retired, friends and acquaintances of Keeley who also move in those 'D-list celebs / influencers / WAG' kind of circles. Their families, even; I have a very elaborate headcanon built off that one (1) throwaway line that Roy wanted to open the champagne when Keeley's mum "moved back north", that maybe Keeley's mother was a bit too happy to see her settled down with an older man for once, and they're living together, and he's very famous and very rich. My other headcanon is that Keeley dropped Shandy / her old friends after she got with Roy partly because there'd have been some wink-wink-nudge from those corners about "landing Roy Kent" (I have WAY too many thoughts about Keeley and Shandy, lol).

...Anyway. This is all to say. I think, between the two of them, Keeley might have been the one who vaguely considered that maybe marriage could be on the horizon as a next step, because she's a woman over 30 in circles where women over 30 get reminded of these things. Roy has the luxury of thinking about it less, because he decided years before the show that he wasn't going to get pressured into an early marriage just because it's The Done Thing.

I can believe Keeley and Roy never discussed marriage all through the year-odd they were dating, but I bet multiple people brought it up to Keeley unprompted, and to Roy also but to a lesser extent, and he was able to shrug it off way more easily. Keeley is probably dodging old friends who text her happy birthday and then are like "how are things going with RoyKent(TM)??" wink. babe you landed the big fish!! etc. etc.

SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG! this is like 80% headcanons that's partly inspired by me being A Sports Fan, partly by me overthinking Keeley's narrative, especially in S1 and S2 when she was still allowed to have neuroses and a meaningful friendship with Rebecca. But I'm ALWAYS thinking about Roy/Keeley not only as a ship but also in the context of the very specific gendered dynamics that exist among top-flight footballers and their partners, especially in the UK. It's just anthropologically fascinating to me, and I think S1 especially does a very good job of hinting at all the various nuances with Keeley's character.

[toc-the-elder]

It's my sex life ewwwww don't read.

I moved into my own flat to facilitate my transition away from my family. I was very vulnerable, insecure, and in need of social comforts.

On December 31st 2021, when I had just moved into my flat, I agreed to meet a guy named Adam. He was nice, polite, handsome, charming, and so very normal. He treated me with such respect and kindness that I haven't really been able to face being intimate with people since. Sex just seems to empty and boring and meaningless now.

He invited me round to his for a New Year's drink. We sat on the couch and talked and he was patient and despite us both knowing where things were going, he wasn't pushy. We eventually had sex. He was great in bed, and knew how to get me going. I won't go into it, but it was memorable.

We started seeing each other fairly regularly. At first I walked to his, but soon he was coming round to mine after work. We would sit and drink and he would tolerate me smoking in my kitchen, despite not smoking anything himself. My flat was pretty much unfurnished at the time, so we sat on the floor, or I sat on his lap in my desk chair. It was cute.

For Christmas, my brother had got me a little Raspberry Pi with a tiny screen to install in my computer as a hardware monitor. I had no idea how to get it to work, but Adam happened to be a game dev, and knew his stuff, and he spent all evening one night sat at my computer tinkering with it until it worked. He didn't need to do that, he owed me nothing, and he knew we were gonna do it regardless. He did it because it was a nice thing to do. And I jumped on him and gave him a massive hug. It was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me as just a cute little favour. I may or may not have gone down on him in the living room, I can't remember if that was that night.

We shared a wonderful bedroom life. He was gentle with me and I still remember the way he paused one night while on top of me, stroked my cheek, and told me I was beautiful. That little moment means more to me than I can possibly describe. I still remember when I slipped into a new set of lingerie I had bought and he noticed and complimented me and said I made it look amazing. Not that they looked amazing. I made them look amazing. He was the first guy that truly made me feel like a woman. I even trusted him to the point that I told him he didn't need to use protection with me anymore. He looked me right in the eye, and asked me if I was sure a couple of times. And it was in that moment that I knew I was sure.

I liked him. He didn't like the same things I like, he didn't share my opinions on a lot of things, but I liked being with him. I trusted him. He seemed like the sort of guy I'd want to take home to my mum. Our schedules were in conflict a lot, so we rarely got chance to actually go out, but we did on a few occasions.

Then, one day, out of the blue, he messages me to tell me that things have been weird between us, and we had both noticed. I honestly hadn't, so I have to assume the issue was me. Which sucks. He said it was best if we didn't see each other anymore. I didn't reply because I had other things going on. My grandmother had died that morning. I just sat on the kitchen floor and cried all night. Over the next week I lost my job because of a very public panic attack. And then I fell into a deep pit of depression that eventually cost me everything I am.

The more I think about the whole thing, the more I am somewhat convinced that he had a girlfriend or something. His "flatmate" was female, and was never there when I went round to his. Maybe I was just his side girl. I hope that's not true, but unfortunately I'm never going to know. By the time I had plucked up the courage to reply, I think he had blocked me on WhatsApp.

It's strange he would choose to end things in such a way. I know it had only been four and a bit months, but it just seemed incongruous with what I knew of his character. It made me feel so awful, and I have yet to feel like I can truly be myself with anyone since.

And now I've moved again, and my Raspberry Pi has stopped working since I have a new internet connection. I have no idea how to get it to work. I still have his number. I keep getting tempted to text him, just for advice. I don't know why he did what he did, but it will always hurt a little bit. He was my first relationship after becoming who I am today. My first relationship in seven years at the time. I wish it didn't still hurt, but hey, here we are.

Ultimately, I'm bi, and far more attracted to women than I am men, especially in a romantic sense, but he was someone I would have been happy with. I never got chance to find out which AAA game he was working on that was an absolute shitshow behind the scenes. It should be out now, but it could be anything and I would love to put a face to the stories he told me. I'll never get the chance to ask him about his scars. Like, we're talking huge, huge scars that couldn't possibly be from self harm. He looked like he had been in a medieval battle. I'll never get the chance to tell him how he made me feel.

Goddamn you Adam. I miss you.

[wtfuggg]

1st?

Writing this for myself. I think. I don't really know what I'm doing starting this; probably the same reason that I've bought 6 journals from Whitcoulls and not once have I made it past 4 entries. I think I love the idea of having my thoughts in one place so I can reflect back and see what I thought at a specific time. Such a shame my memory stretches back to max last weekend.

Like, my memory now is horrifically bad. I don't even recall what I had for lunch yesterday, let along what I did at work today. My grandma had Alzheimers, so maybe it's started making its way down to me. Finger's crossed it isn't but honestly, I wouldn't be surprised, I feel like my dad's side of the genetics (aka my fucked up hairline) is predominent in my make up. Sad right?

Anyways, I wish I could just reflect back on my life and instantly recall what I felt. I wish I could look back in time and remember what I thought when I was in the closet? Or what I felt when my mum passed away? Or when I was in love with my best friend's American flatmate? God I wish I had written down my thoughts more often, time is flying by incredibly fucking fast. And it's scary. And it's daunting. And its all the synonyms of "frightening" you can think of.

Here goes my first entry. Digital this time, so maybe I wont be as ceebs when it comes to this in comparison to when I grab a pen and paper and I feel like I'm in an indie little film x

Bur for real, I wanna start this little blog off with how I'm, feeling right now. Right now is Friday the 15th of September 2023. A week prior to my one year anniversary at work. A year and a month since I've moved to Auckland. 2 years since I graduated uni. 2 years since my mum died. 3 years since covid. God, isn't it weird how you think of time through milestones? Like why can't everyday just be a milestone. I guess its self explanatory - and I guess I'm only frustrated that I can't remember my life.

I'm already ceebs writing this not gonna lie hahahaha, but I'm gonna push through but maybe I break this down into more bit sized chunks. Next one I'll do a piece on how I push people away, maybe sprinkle a little bit of self pity and self loathing into that one xox

Right now, I feel like I'm going through it - but not in the same way that I've gone through it in the past. I think it's some sort of growth, but I couldn't be certain. I really have no idea what I'm feeling. I wish I could say. I mean a few nights ago, I was ranting to my flatmate how I'd wanna go back to Christianity, then the following day I was sending Gavin Caselegno messages asking him for dick pics? Like I cant seem to make my mind up. God it must be so exhausting to be around me. I pity myself. I pity anyone around me to be honest. Don't think anyone should be around me. Why? Cause I'm fucking up and down man, every single day. I could be happy one moment and be depressed as fuck the next. It's a constant cycle of being inconsistent. If it's tiring for me, I can't even begin to imagine what it'd be like for anyone in close proximity to me. Or maybe I'm just overthinking this too much. No one actually cares. Genuinely no one. So maybe I just live my life how I wanna live it lol.

I think it's all catching up to me - being indecisive that is. I feel my entire life has been a mask - I don't really know myself and thats why I cant control my emotions. In fact, for a little while i thought everyone was faking their emotions cause i didnt feel any. Probably up until 2021, I genuinely thought that there was something wrong with me cause I never felt any 'real' emotion. Or If i did, I didn't think they were real, or I didn't have the emotional capacity to rationalise them. I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel all the emotions, but empathy is something I dont think I have.

That's another thing too. I'm so fucking selfish its insane hahahaha, Like I feel like I'm only ever concerned about myself. But so be it, am i right? No one's ever been there for me. Friends drift away, relationships drift away, even family, who i thought would be forever.. also drift away.. how fucking sad hey. Mateeeee honestly now that I'm starting to unpack this I feel like this will take way longer than anticipated lol. maybe this can be my little therapy book x

Kinda tired writing - so maybe i give this up and save it for another time. My flatmates are also watching a fucking show and I can't sleep and its grinding my gears damn. Anyways, okay signing off. Gonna check back in soon x

[shall-we-imagine]

Lovely. (Sigurd Curtis×Reader *AU*)

Requested: 15. "If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they're having an exchange program." + 22. "Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops." From the prompt list.

Genre: Fluff.

(Second Person Point of View)

"I'm telling you, Amelia! This psycho lady kept insisting I give her a cheese burger with no cheese! And when I tried to explain to her that this is basically just a burger not a cheeseburger, she went nuts!" You complain into the phone, as you struggle to open the door to your apartment without dropping your grocery at the same time.

"Like what even is this?! And when I finally gave up and told her I'll get her that cheese burger with no cheese.." you recite the customer's words in a tone of mockery, "She just still wasn't having it! She asked to speak to the manager who wasn't even there at the time! All my coworkers and even some customers had to intervene before she tries to kill me or something.."

You hear loud laughter from the other side of the phone. "I'm sorry; it's just-" your friend pauses to laugh even harder, "it's actually hilarious; I'm sorry."

"Amelia!" You whine dramatically, "Stop laughing at my sorrows!" Even though you let out a little laugh yourself, you were still willing to demand she doesn't laugh...just because.

After locking the door, you slip off your shoes, placing it near the door frame, then walk into the kitchen to put the items you bought in their correct places.

"At least it's over, though, right?"

"Well, that's not all. After waiting at the bus stop for like 15 minutes, I realized I had forgotten my purse in the changing room, so I had to go back to get my purse then walk to the bus stop again, and by now, I'd already missed the bus, of course. Therefore, I had to wait for 30 minutes for the next bus." You sigh, "And don't even get me started on that weird guy from the supermarket!"

"What happened?" Amelia giggles, still amused by your irritation.

"So, you know how I prefer buying groceries alone because it makes everything quicker and helps me focus better and not forget anything?" You begin placing items on shelves and in the fridge, not planning to stop the phone call before you're done ranting.

"Yeah?"

"Well, this random dude that I never even met before decided that my angry aura wasn't enough to keep him away, no! He decided to just walk up to me, for no reason at all, and make conversation. Now, this wouldn't be too bad if he didn't follow me throughout the entire time I was shopping. Even after I expressed my discomfort and annoyance, he just couldn't take a hint! And I was in no mood for being flirted with or being talked to at all actually." You huff.

"Woah, it's like the universe is just purposely pissing you off."

"Tell me about it! If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they're having an exchange program."

Amelia laughs. "Just get some sleep; you'll be fine." She assures.

"Yeah, I'm really exhausted; I just want to pass out for a week!" You become more and more eager to drown in your own bed the closer you get to your room.

"Well, I'll let you nap for now, but don't forget the essay; we have to hand it over on Tuesday!" Knowing your habit of procrastination, Amelia never fails to remind you of the stuff you need to do. Multiple times.

"I know I know; I'll get started right after I wake up..and eat..and maybe watch an episode of-" She cuts off your already clear intentions of procrastinating.

"(Y/N)! Right after you wake up and eat! Don't make me come over there and supervise as you write!" She threatens.

You groan, "Fine; I'll do it."

After Amelia declares her temporary victory, you end the phone call and get comfortable in bed, ready to get some rest before you have to do your assignments. You set your alarm for an hour after the current time then place your phone on the nightstand.

The mattress and pillow partly engulf your body in heavenly softness, and you happily let the irritation from earlier float away.

However, life seemed to have more troubles to throw at you today.

The sound of drilling coming from the other side of the wall behind your bed startles you into full consciousness. Frowning, you wait a few minutes in hopes the drilling would stop, but, sadly, life still hated you and had no plans of having mercy on you. Trying to ignore the drilling was a hopeless case, too.

"Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with my neighbour?! It's been 25 minutes! What's up with all the noise?!" You complain to yourself, pushing your face into the pillow out of frustration.

You let out a huff. "I'll go talk to them. I'm not sacrificing my sleep for them to put up some decorations or whatever the fuck they're really doing."

Smoothing down your hair to make it look presentable, you contemplate whether you really need to change your pyjamas to go knock on your next door neighbours and ask them to keep it down. Nah.

You rub your eyes, still feeling sleepy and exhausted, as you wait for your oh-so-lovely neighbour to answer the door.

"Hello?" Greets a male about your age. Well..let's just say he certainly is really really really lovely. And suddenly, you regret not changing into something nicer than your my little pony print pyjamas.

He gave you a sweet smile as if he wasn't just chasing the sleep away from you with his drilling.

"Uh, hi." You shuffle your weight from leg to the other awkwardly. "Would you mind..um..not drilling into the wall right now? I've had a long day, and I'm trying to sleep.." You waited for a rude reaction, but the expected response never came.

Instead, the purple-haired male pokes his head back inside the apartment. "Vincent! Hey, Vincent!" He yells.

You hear a faint yeah? come from inside before the neighbour you never knew was so handsome shouts again, "I told you you're gonna bother our neighbours, but did you listen?! Nooo, you decided to try it anyway! Just stop drilling!"

"What neighbours? There's only one other apartment on our floor; don't make it sound like I'm bothering the entire buildi-" the other voice kept getting louder, indicating the person was walking closer to the door. When he finally reached the door and pulled it open, Vincent that was yelling from inside paused mid-sentence.

"Ooh, I see why you're so concerned about the noise." The redhead shoots a wink towards what you assumed was his flatmate before walking back inside, leaving good-looking neighbour flustered.

"Uh-um, never mind him. He just likes joking around; it's nothing, re-" His embarrassed rambling was cut off by a yell from inside.

"Shut up; you know you were calling her cute earlier, Sigurd!" Sigurd's panicked eyes meet yours, and you could practically feel the temperature rising in the hallway, due to the heat emitting from both your faces.

Despite how embarrassed you are, you were still absolutely flattered, which caused you to let out a small giggle, further increasing Sigurd's blushing.

"He's only joking; don't take him seriously. He just likes to embarass me." Sigurd tries to indirectly deny his flatmate's comment. You would be disappointed if it weren't so amusing and adorable watching him sheepishly sputter out excuses and defences.

"Are you saying you don't think she's cute then?" A blond pokes his head outside. You could tell he wasn't wearing a shirt, but he didn't seem to mind being seen like that.

Sigurd falls into another spiral of panicked, embarrassed babbling. "No!" He quickly turns to look at you, "I don't mean you're not cute! You're certainly cute- I mean if I were asked, I'd say you're cute- Like I wasn't just thinking about you being cute; not that I wouldn't think you're cute- oh my god, I'm sorry; just forget about this! Klaus, just go put a shirt on and leave me alone!"

By now, you were full on laughing hysterically at the interaction between Sigurd and his other flatmate.

"It's only fair, compared to how much you tease me." The shirtless male shrugs, walking back inside.

Sigurd sighs. "I'm sorry about Klaus and Vincent; they're practically family, so we tease each other all the time." He scratches the back of his head.

"It's okay." You smile. It was as if you'd completely forgotten you came here, ready to fight whoever disturbed your sleep. "Must be really fun living together like that, though."

"Yeah, I suppose." He nods. "Things sometimes get insane, but we're used to it by now. Insanity runs in my family. it practically gallops." He chuckles.

You let out a laugh, "Yeah, I totally know what you mean."

Seeming to have forgotten about being sleepy just a while ago, you allow yourself to have a full conversation with Sigurd. It may have lasted for a full hour, and you wouldn't even know.

"My goodness, just ask her out already!" Vincent yells from inside.

"Shut up!" Sigurd yells back.

"You really have no idea how to get the ladies, huh?" Klaus joins the yelling fest.

"Says the guy that thinks insulting the girl is a good way to encourage and motivate her!" It seemed like Sigurd had gotten comfortable around you, so he was no longer affected by their teasing; he was ready to talk back now. It somehow made you feel warm inside.

"I'm just being honest!" Klaus defends.

"You're just being mean!" Vincent argues.

"I'm not mean!" Before long, Vincent and Klaus had gotten in an argument in the backgroud, allowing you and Sigurd to retrieve your one-on-one conversation.

"Well, um, do you wanna go grab some coffee later?" Sigurd smiles. "You know..to prove them wrong?" He fakes an innocent smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's why." You giggle. "But, sure, why not?"

After deciding the time and day, you said your goodbyes, and you went back to your apartment.

At least now when Amelia calls again you can distract her with news about your date, so she doesn't have to scold you for not working on the essay until now.

[illkeepyourbrittleheartwarm]

Oop sorry really long post, but I can't do the "show more" thing:(

The way my dad changed from a generally okay guy, to this hateful, disgusting person he is now has always scared me. It genuinely shakes me to the core when I think, what if I turn into him? Every behaviour, no matter how harmless, that he had, makes me fall apart when I notice myself doing it. A slight stutter one in a while. My eyes looking so much like his when I first wake up. Using a phrase he used to use. When in the back of my mind, I have a mean, even cruel, thought. When I notice my voice crack the way his did, if I speak any louder than usual. How I'm less tolerant of those who don't share my beliefs - even though in my case, it's literally not anything bad, but rather- "all humans deserve dignity, respect, safety, and we shouldn't be restricting people's rights on things they can't change". It's silly, because surely, in order to become this person, he must have always thought and felt that way. He must have always felt entitled to more, and better than others, deep down.

And I never had those thoughts. But because of the OCD and CPTSD, I have obsessive, repetitive thoughts of all the evil things he says. They horrify me, and I absolutely hate them. It triggers me. Then my brain goes in circles repeating dumb things or questioning if I'm like him, to check for my reaction to it, to make sure I actually am disgusted. But them repeating obviously distresses me more, which yeah, should be a comfort because "hey I'm disgusted by this, means I'm not turning into him!!", but unfortunately I can't convince myself of that in that moment, because the thoughts just keep on going and upsetting me further. It's a vicious cycle.

It's so weird thinking about my first few years with my dad, after mum and i started visiting him in England. He had left Poland when I was 1, and he came to the UK illegally so i didn't see him until I was 3 and a half, when we visited for the first time, once he had settled and got his papers sorted.

He was nice to me. He was nice to most people. In the best way he could be, I suppose. He had a black flatmate. He was racist still, but not openly so. And he didn't hold the absolutely terrifying views he does now. He was friends with loads of different people. Him and my mum were a really terrible match so they argued often, but they liked spending time together.

When we first lived in that flat, we shared my dad's room, and his flatmate had a room down the hall. When he moved out, that became my room. I remember we used to go on adventures - to the park, to theme parks, into central, to the safari. My dad and I used to have cuddles every night before bed, if he didn't get home after my bedtime. I'd run to meet him when I saw him pull up outside. Sometimes, I'd wake up after he came home to the smell of the dinner my mum had made him - I remember this one particular time when it was minced pork cutlets, mashed potatoes, and mizeria. That was a typical meal, but for some reason I remember it so well. I went out even though I knew mum would tell me off for being awake. But my dad just laughed, and encouraged my mum to give me some food. I fell off my bed in my sleep a couple of times, and he'd always come in and pick me up and put me back to bed, laughing and smiling (I only knew because I woke up when being picked up), because he would always come to my room to just check in, even if I was already asleep, because he hadn't seen me all day.

My favourite memory - however blurry - was right after it rained one day, he took me outside with a few clean plastic pots. We collected snails, named them, he taught me random things about them, and I so desperately wanted to take them inside. My dad said no, and explained that they are where they feel comfortable, and we shouldn't take them from their home - what if they can't find their families again?

Remembering this is so confusing, because he was so tender - he was a completely different person.

When I was ill, he would make a massive fuss out of me, and take care of me. I remember waking up, feeling really unwell one night. He boiled beer with raspberry juice, lemon juice, and honey, because that's the folk remedy that was always used back home.

One time, I was in the car with him and he was listening to music really loudly. I covered my ears and shouted (it didn't sound that loud because of the music, and I wasn't shouting out of anger, but rather to be heard over it.) for him to turn it down. He told me to never shout at him again.

All of this is so wild to me, really. It's like watching someone else's life. He wasn't like that anymore by the time we moved to our first rented house. He began drinking more, arguing more. He was still the same man, but less patient. But by the time my brother turned 2, he was so different. He yelled so much, he hit my brother, and me. He drank loads, and was out until all hours with his mates. His dad came to stay with us - he was a terrible man, worse than my dad. He drank all day, and was so aggressive. During the day, my parents were both at work, and my auntie (who my mum had brought over to England to help with us) took care of us and the house. So it was really scary when it was just us, and my grandad. One day, he had smashed a bottle of something that he uad been drinking and was yelling, god knows at what. Maybe the TV? Who knows. My auntie had seen him scary drunk, and he had tried to hit her previously. My auntie had been abused really badly as a kid herself so naturally, this triggered her. She grabbed me and my brother and we literally ran out of the house and down the road, and we only slowed down when we were two roads away. She took us to my friend's house, because she had befriended her mum through my mum. We stayed there all day, until both our parents got home.

But that's besides the point, I guess my granddad's behaviour always did set my dad's off.

I just can't believe how by the time we moved into the next house, I was scared of my dad, and by the time they bought a house and we moved into the fourth and final place, it was hell. He was hell on earth to me. How does someone go that way within just shy of five years? Because that's all it was. How did he go from being the way he was, to hitting me for no reason, to yelling at me over every tiny thing - breathing too loudly, getting a sum on my homework wrong, my appearance, my hair, my nails, and often, nothing at all? Just abusing me for existing? It's not that I was a difficult child. Everyone always said what a good, easy child I was. He never thought that. He thought I was evil incarnate. Funny, considering he was the person to spend the least time with me, and tbh he never experienced any "bad" behaviours I may have expressed, like occasionally talking back to my mum.

Idk. How does a person change that drastically?