i don’t drink enough water and i never get enough sleep,
i’m a serial procrastinator and i’m perpetually stressed,
i worry about everyone and everything,
i don’t eat right or as much as i should and
i get sick so often that my sick periods, they all seem to just blend together.
i’m not good at taking care of myself but i will always tell my friends,
“eat.”, “drink.”, “get your work done.”, “go to sleep.”, “be careful.”,
“don’t be late.”, “don’t worry, everything will be fine.”, “don’t stress, you’ve got this.”
i’ll always put others first and it will eventually wear me down until i am spread so thin that i am unrecognizable but that’s okay,
because i will give my friends everything i have if it means that they are happy,
that they are healthy.
i will gladly light myself on fire if they say they need the heat.
i know it’s unhealthy but i love them more than i could ever love myself.
to me, they are worth more than my everything.
Prompt: Naegi and Kirigiri with Saihara as their child (PS this is spoiler-free and I haven’t played/watched the game so excuse me for mischaracterizing)
A/N for @qosic a WAY belated birthday gift. Dude, I love you so much that I would write naegiri for you. Thanks for being awesome and I hope this will be enough for your forgiveness at my late greeting.
Another Detective in the Family - naegiri with child saihara
When Saihara was born, they never talked about his talent.
Instead the parents cried and cooed at a healthy baby born and how they would protect him and shower him in love. Whether or not he had talent was not a concern of theirs so long as he was happy. Makoto did joke before that he wished their son didn’t inherit his luck if that counted as a discussion. Kyouko was still smooth as ever when she calmly mentioned that their son would most likely inherit his hope. They both blushed at that, him more so than her. It was nice and peaceful and all was right in the world in those moments.
When Saihara grew up, he inevitably showed talent.
At first it was just interest in his parents’ works which then developed into skill. He solved his first mystery when he was four and the culprit was his father who ate his mother’s pudding. It was an easy first case but he had been proud over debunking his father’s alibi. He had a feeling that his mother knew all along but just milked the situation for his father’s reaction. The next time they went grocery shopping, they bought him extra pudding as a reward.
From then on, he pursued mysteries with a wonderlust. He solved them left and right and he grew bolder with each success. It seemed as though he was already set on the path of being a detective just like his mother. However, unlike his mother, he didn’t become cold and distant in his work. He took after his father when it came to being social. He was friendly enough and made sure that everyone was at least comfortable around him. His mother made no comment on his work ethic and his father cheered him on. He would make them proud.
At the tender age of seven, he was a prodigy.
A prodigy that was still babied by his parents just because they can.
“Mom, I have some news.” He declared as soon as he caught sight of her in the living room.
“Really?” Kyouko asked although judging by her tone, it sounded rhetorical.
Saihara’s smile immediately turned into a scowl or at least it was supposed to be but it came out as a pout. “You already know, don’t you?”
She hummed playfully. “If you say so then what ever gave me away?”
This was a test and he just knew it. Ever since he started showing interest, she also began to train him in subtle ways. Sure it was fun at first but after a few years, it got old fast. Well more like annoying since they were easy and she knew how he felt about the easier tests but still handed them out. Her excuse was that it was to drill in the basics but he knew better and that she just wanted to tease him.
He took a moment to reorganize his thoughts into a concise explanation. “Well you’re early but not too early. That provides just the right time frame for you to meet auntie given his schedule. However, the incriminating evidence is that your blouse has wrinkles around the shoulder area that could only be acquired by someone placing their arms there in a hugging manner. And you never let anyone but auntie do that. Given auntie’s nature, I have no doubt that she already told you about the news.”
Kyouko stared at him, her silence carrying judgement with every passing second. “Nice try.” She curtly said.
“Nice try? Not well done?” He asked incredulously.
“It’s not a bad induction.” She shrugged. “However, it is incorrect.”
“Incorrect?” He gasped. It was like a blow was dealt to his gut.
“I learned about the news from your uncle this morning. Everything else, I planned and planted.” She explained in a collected manner and then surprised him at the tenderness in her touch when she patted his head comfortingly. “It seems that you have much to learn since you were deceived easily.”
“It wasn’t that easy. I’m going to see through it next time.” He grumbled and covered half of his face in embarrassment.
“There, there.” She smiled as she continued to pat him.
Makoto came home shortly after and gave both of them warm hugs. “How was your day, Saihara?” He affectionately brushed his hair.
“M'fine.” He mumbled though he did not pull away.
“Oh, Kyouko. It looks like you already know about the news. Did uncle tell you?” Makoto said when he turned towards her.
“Seriously?” Saihara’s jaw dropped. “How did you even find out about that? I thought mom was the detective between the two of you!”
“I have my fair share of experiences at solving mysteries.” He winked at his son. “I just might be better than you.”
“How??” He squawked at how infuriatingly talented his father was. “At least tell me how you figured it out!”
“A lucky guess?” Makoto just laughed at his son’s scrunched up face. “Just kidding, kiddo. I actually saw them when uncle delivered the news.”
Saihara practically fumed. He was played by his parents. Twice! “I hate you both.” He grumbled.
“Love you more.” Kyouko giggled.
“Love you too!” Makoto chuckled.
Despite Saihara’s weak protests, Makoto pulled the three of them together in for another bear hug which Kyouko obliged. He ended up smiling with them and although he did laugh, he refused to acknowledge that out loud. More than the thrill and satisfaction of solving mysteries, he thought that it was moments like these that topped his list. Here, in the safety and warmth of his loving parents. He forgets and forgives them for teasing but they would never let him forget that he was their beloved son.
When Saihara looked up to his parents, he didn’t think of talent since all he saw was love.
Can you imagine Isak's face when he finds out about Evan's mums?Something like when Evan opened his locker in that iconic way.And maybe Evan didn't tell him, bc why it's completly normal and ok(and he's kind of bitch and loves teasing him)and when he brings him to a family dinner two sweet women rushed to hug Isak and give him kiss on cheek for greeting and Isak has that"what's happening"face( same when Evan kissed him after meeting the boy squad and "u r so hot Isak" sentence)&Evan is laughing
ok so, i lied. i made this into a (sort of?) fic. so, here’s 3k words of isak finding out even has two moms. i’m sorry.
Isak is maybe, possibly
freaking out. Just a little bit. Not actual, full on anxiety that makes him
feel like his heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, but. He’s getting
Even had said it so naturally too, just what do you say we drop by tomorrow?, and he had actually looked
kind of nervous, to his credit, but more about Isak’s answer than actually
having him meet his fucking parents.
And of course it’s easy for Even, Isak has never once seen
him uncomfortable in a social situation. Even when they were standing in the
tram, stealing little glances at each other and smiling nervously, Isak too
fucking shy around Even to say anything, Even had managed to smooth his way through it,
awesome conversation, though. So it’s
understandable he’s not nervous about hanging out with three people he loves.
But Isak, he can’t even have lunch with his own
parents without feeling incredibly uncomfortable, let alone his boyfriend’s.
What would he even say? Hello, Mr and
Mrs Næsheim, I sucked your son off in the shower the other day, congrats on the
When I was a kid, the one thing I wanted more than anything else was a Cabbage Patch Kid.
But, in the late 80s/early 90s - they didn’t make Cabbage Patch Kids with light brown skin and dark brown hair and eyes.
There was black and white and that’s how the world was divided….but not because I grew up in Southall.
Pretty much every kid I went to school with had brown skin, brown hair and a mom who made them eat rice every night.
So, where were our dolls?
I watched Hasan Minhaj’s Netflix special - Homecoming King - recently and I fucking loved it. LOVED it. It was like hanging out with my coolest cousins - it was hilarious, heartfelt and bilingual.
Here’s a dude that looks like me and sounds like me.
Someone who can reference Drake and knows heartbreak.
Someone who also understands that if you’re reading this, it’s already too late, I’ve bit the fucking laving in the biryani and I think I might be dying, man.
Over the past couple of years - I’ve noticed it more and more.
More Indians represented in media.
More people who look like me and sound like me.
For me, it started with Kal Penn in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle.
For the first time in my life - I saw an Indian character I could relate to. For once, I saw an Indian person who didn’t have a thick, ridiculous accent. An Indian person who wasn’t mocked with “smelly curry” jokes.
Sidebar: Literally fuck every single person who makes this joke. Firstly, people didn’t die in the spice trade for you to be so goddamn ignorant and secondly, do you even understand how complicated and lush and beautiful a curry is? How much time and energy and love it takes to make? No. You don’t. So, shut the hell up and try not to choke on your shitty mayonnaise sandwich.
I saw an Indian dude who dropped pop culture references and used the word “dude” about as much as I do. I saw someone whose dad looked like an angrier version of Paps. I saw an Indian who wasn’t a doctor or an engineer or a call center employee.
Alright, fine. He was applying to med school in the movie but like the man said:
And then came Mindy Kaling who was basically a goddamn revelation in really cute shoes.
A smart, funny, mouthy Indian woman WRITER who gives ALL the fucks about cute packaging for make-up and SNL sketches?
It was like hearing my voice for the first time. Holy shit - that’s what I sound like?! That’s amazing! My voice is like a cross between Fergie Asha Bhosle and Jesus!
And of course, there’s Aziz Ansari. A man who created a genuinely honest look at the first-generation immigrant experience for millennials with Master of None.
The “Parents” episode of the first season and the “Religion” episode of the second season really hit home for me. The former deals with the stark differences between immigrant parents and their children and the latter deals with coming out to your parents about your lack of religious convictions - both issues I’ve certainly dealt with in the past couple of years.
I am part of #NewBrownAmerica
I can talk about the issues of the GOP condemning systemic poverty as if it were a mortal sin, I can rhyme every single word in Montell Jordan’s This Is How We Do It, I know how Ganesh got his elephant head and that Mom has hidden little Ganesh statues in all of my apartments she’s been in and I’ve been making cups of chai since I was six-years-old, so I’m totally comfortable mocking the shit out of anyone who orders chai tea lattes.
Chai means tea. Latte means milk. You’re ordering a tea tea milk and you need to knock it off.
And I can do whatever the hell I dream of doing because isn’t that the promise of America?
I’ve even become more comfortable with speaking Gujarati. I mean, I’m super rubbish at it and my pronunciation will make every one of my masis wince, but I’m not embarrassed anymore like I used to be.
We were trying to book an AirBnB last night and I asked J to text the link to our buddy.
“How do I do that?” “Here. Batawu.”
As in, here. Let me show you.
I’m becoming more myself and it feels easier.
Maybe because I’m in my mid-30s and you just don’t care as much about that kind of stuff anymore but also because there’s a we now.
I see people like myself on television and it’s such a big fucking deal. And you know what’s even more exciting?
In like, fifty years - it won’t even be a big deal anymore. Some little Indian girl is going to see tons of people on TV like her and she won’t even bat an eye because duh, why wouldn’t Indian people be on TV like everyone else?
Representation matters and seeing this new crop of talented, smart, funny and brilliant brown people who grew up on Bollywood and Barbies, Ganesh and Ghostbusters and the goddamn pressure cooker going off at 8:00 in the morning gives me such hope.
Little shorter than my usual posts, but setting up for the real fun starting next post
My mom leaves me staring after her with a dumbfounded expression
on my face. Wha… what? I look
absentmindedly around my room, at a complete loss of what to do and seeing the
time glaring back at me, decide to just get into bed. I call my two pups into
the room and snuggle down into my covers with them on either side of me, my two
little personal heaters.
wanders to Auston, I don’t have to wonder what he’s currently doing because my
phone is still going off at regular intervals of pictures of him sent by either
Marner, Nylander or one of the other several player who seem to have my number
now. Auston sends me them too, though his aren’t every thirty seconds. My phone
vibrates from a text and I swipe down for look at it.
R u awake?
when I see who it’s from.
Nope, sleep texting
How was dinner?
I don’t really think u need to
ask that. U were pretty much there with all the snapping.
True, your chicken looked
I didn’t send you any pictures
of my chicken
Jesus. Is there anything they didn’t
minute before he responds and I wonder if I went too far. Then the little
bubbles pop up and I relax.
Thank god for that, I would hate killing my
and roll onto my back, my eyes are getting tired.
Well they r safe for the night
Ur getting tired
How do u know that?
U never abbreviate words or
Go to bed
I’m going to bed
Then y did u say no???
Don’t tell me what to do
again when he sends me a bunch of the exasperated emojis.
I stare at
my screen for a few moments, my heart fluttering against my ribs and I try to
figure out why. There wasn’t really any flirting, just conversation yet my
heart is beating like he really did send me nudes. I click my screen off and
shove my phone under the pillow, determined to fall asleep without thinking
about the stupid boy.
Two days pass
a lot faster than I would have thought possible. Now I’m standing outside the
house I grew up in, looking at all the grandness of it one more time before I
get into my waiting car, with a trail of my parents SUV a handful of family and
friends, all with their cars packed to the brim as well and a hauling truck
bringing up the rear. My parents are in their respective vehicles, letting me have
my moment. We had said our goodbyes last night.
I had just
gotten off the phone with Auston and had only been asleep for a few minutes
when my father gently shook me awake. Silently he had taken my hand and pulled
me downstairs, helped me put on my coat and then we went outside hand in hand.
Perched on our usual spot on the picnic table, we sat side by side in silence
for several hours, our eyes on the sky and silent tears rolling down our
cheeks. We didn’t need words to communicate.
outside the home that I had learned to walk, there was a sizeable dent in the
master bedroom doorframe from one of my failed attempts at that. My eyes trail
to the driveway to my right, where I had skinned by knees more times than I can
count trying to play street hockey and riding my bike. None of these things
made me sad to think about, though tears did come, they were just memories
trailing down my cheeks, making room for even more beautiful memories to come.
over to Canada goes without any difficultly and before I know it, I’m standing
outside my new house. My two dogs are already bounding around in the few inches
of snow that must have just fallen, within moments it looks like I own two
little polar bears instead of two labs. The house is nicer than I had thought,
built less than five years ago, it fits in with the few newer houses littering
the block. I can’t help but grin at myself. This
is my home.
The next four
hours are spent with my parents and various friends and relatives unloading the
U-Haul and other vehicles lined up on the street. I mostly just stand in the
foyer and point people in the right direction with boxes and pieces of furniture,
I feel extremely lazy just watching but there’s so many people that they need
direction. I’m amazed at how quickly everything is brought inside and I have
never been more grateful that my grandparents own a home renovation company and
over the years they have been putting various pieces of furniture to the side
for me and my cousins. Most everything that is now taking up space in my house
I didn’t have to pay a dime for.
The only time
that my happiness falters is when I glimpse my parents, the pain of leaving
them so great I don’t know how I don’t fall over. Once the last of the boxes
have been moved inside, the majority of my family and friends leave until it’s
just my parents and me. They stand at the bottom of the stairs as I make my way
down to them, their fingers entwined and my heart pangs in my chest. I could
never imagine being in love like my parents are.
I reach the bottom
of the stairs, my hand lingering on the banister, I open my mouth to say
something but nothing comes out and I reach for my parents. They embrace me and
I bury my head into my father’s chest. Not caring in the slightest that I’m a
full grown adult and hugging them like I did when I was five years old.
This time I
don’t sob like I expect to, my tears are all dried out. Instead I try to memorize
everything I can about them, their smell and the crinkles by my mom’s eyes, the
result of smiling more than the average human, the rough stubble of my dad’s
beard and the gray streaks in his hair that he always tries to blame on me.
time for your first home picture,” my mom finally says, her hand running
through my hair once more before putting her hand on my shoulder and I take a
step back, my hand still firmly in my fathers.
I join them
on the porch, taking my place by the front door as my mom takes my phone and
hers out into the lawn, my dad following. I beam at the camera and throw my
hands out to either side of me, my two dogs make an appearance at just the
right time and make the picture.
always,” my dad says from my mother’s side.
even see the picture,” I roll my eyes at him, returning to his side. He quickly
ducks me under his arm and gives me a noogie, I squeal and try to swat his hand
to look to know,” he says and I can’t help but grin at him as I try to smooth
my hair back out.
kid,” my dad says gruffly and I know this has to be harder for them than it is
My mom joins
us on the lawn, the snow sitting in her hair like a halo, her arms encircle me
and then my dad’s cover hers.
“I love you
so much,” I whisper.
“We love you
too baby, more than you know,” my mom whispers back, I can feel her wet tears
falling into my hair.
even begin to cover it,” dad chimes in, his voice even more gruff than before
and my heart twinges.
I meet my
father’s eyes, swimming with tears and I think back to that very first night
under the stars, he gave me everything I could have ever asked for, and I tell
“No, Y/N, I
introduced you to it, you made it into something beautiful,” he grazes me cheek
with his knuckles and I lean into his hand.
“I love you,”
I repeat, he winks at me and his hand drops from my face, taking my mom’s hand
instead, tugging her gently towards the car.
She kisses my
forehead once more and pats the heads of the two dogs bouncing around in the
snow before climbing into the passenger seat of the SUV. I close her door
gently and she rolls down the window. Though don’t say anything more. We can’t.
I watch them
pull away from the curb, down the street and around the corner. I stand there several
more minutes, staring into the distance before turning and looking at my house.
I stuff my hands in my pockets and whistle for my dogs, walking up the front
steps and through my front door.
in the kitchen is first on my list, my family offered to stay and help unpack
the boxes but I refused. There was no way I was letting someone have all the
fun of organizing my house. My phone buzzes the moment I touch the first box
and I let out a frustrated sigh. Really?
I snatch up
my phone and my annoyance fades away immediately. I had sent the picture my mom
took of me to Auston and he had finally responded.
You know I always had a thing for older, responsible
Haven’t you always had a thing
My point exactly
and lean against my counter, opening my snapchat and sending a picture of my
T.V already set up in the living room, which was the only thing I had allowed
anyone to touch because I knew I would mess it up somehow. I caption it “So you
can’t yell at me for not watching your game again” and send it to Auston. Last
week I had watched the Detroit game that was playing at the same time as the
Toronto one and boy had I heard about it from not only Auston but every Leaf’s
player that had my number.
I open my
text messages again and type out a response.
Are you calling me old??
Little bit, but im into it.
I roll my
eyes and another message from Auston appears.
Ur rolling ur eyes right now aren’t u?
I can think of other ways to
make them roll
goes through my spine and I blush even though there is no one around.
I don’t think it’s exactly fair that you
can say that kind of stuff but I can’t…
Says the girl who just the other
day said that she slept naked in my childhood bed!
notification pops up and I click it open, seeing a picture of Auston’s shoes
and I know he’s on the bus heading to the arena for the game against San Jose
tonight. “Good girl” it’s captioned and I roll my eyes again.
Alright, we just got to the arena, I’m
guessing u’ll be asleep by the time I’m able to call u. So I’ll see u tomorrow?
Another tingle shoots through my spine
at the thought of finally seeing Auston tomorrow. For the last twelve days all
I’ve been able to do is imagine his lips against mine and… Other things.
Depends, your rule still in place?
Then I can’t wait
pause between messages.
You are literally the worst
send a kissy face emoji and receive an unimpressed one in response. I grin,
pleased with myself and set my phone back down on the counter. I eye my dogs
who are already lounging on the sectional couch.
“Hey! Get to
work!” I call to them and they just flick their ears in my direction and give a
“really mom?” expression. I scoff at them and turn back the first box I see,
now is when the fun begins.
Hi Charity as you are an ENFP I wanted to ask you how to do you see Si and Te in you? How was it clear for you that you were Ne dom and Fi aux and not the contrary? You said in the past that you cinsidered yourself socially introvert or shy, which I think is my case and I'm not sure about INFP or ENFP for me. Thanks a lot
My main way of recognizing my status as an extrovert, beyond my need for external stimulation all the time (NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN TEN MINUTES, MY LIFE SUCKS) is that I am not a Fi-dom. So excuse me, while I once again travel into the land of indecisive Ne to illustrate my point; then I will return to your initial question.
If you compare the INFPs on this blog to the ENFPs, you will notice that the INFP’s Fi is often very prominent and “runs the show.” This is also true with real life INFPs, who as judging dominants, have and express very strong opinions. Since they are in contact with their inner self most of the time, they often know what they like and dislike, what they want to do or refuse to do, and how they FEEL about most things. There is rarely indecision on that point, especially when it comes to the strength of their inner moral focus.
While I have extremely strong opinions in a few areas, in the broader scope of reality, I am far more indecisive and disconnected from my feelings, to the point where half the time, I rationalize them out with Te, or question my “right” to feel this way at all, rather than just use them. Something I admire about INFPs is they tend to be more decisive than I am, especially in their likes and dislikes. As a Ne-dom, my likes and dislikes can change from day to day.
An INFP I know had a fight with her friends once and door-slammed all of them. She knew how she felt, that they were dissing her opinions and not respecting her true self, and after she had enough, she was done. And she did not waffle on that decision. She just quit. She made up with them much later on, but only after her temper cooled, and she had space and time to mature in her own way (and they matured also). She knew what she wanted: them gone. For now.
I complained the other day to my mother about Elizabeth of York in Philippa Gregory’s novel / miniseries, The White Princess. She is so indecisive. She changes her mind from one chapter to the next about who she is, what she wants, and answers “I don’t know” to half the questions posed to her. Some days she likes her husband, some days she doesn’t; she intends to give up on him, then turns around and falls for him again. It’s seriously annoying.
Once I got done with my rant, my mother smiled and said, “So she’s basically you, in literary form.”
Gee, thanks mom.
My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds, while my Fi had a little tantrum, and then my Te immediately snapped in and I went: “I guess. But I’d make a BAD heroine. Heroines need to be decisive! Books need plots! Heroines need to know what they want, or at least figure it out, and get there, not be lost in indecision! The plot must move forward!”
Unlike me. =P
Ne-dom makes me changeable. And it annoys me. One day, I might want this. The next day, I might not. One day, I might decide that this friend sucks. The next day, I might think I was wrong and they’re awesome. They did not change. My Ne flipped the situation around for a different perspective. It runs right over my Fi and what it wants, all the time. This means that I either do not KNOW what I want or cannot ADMIT to myself what I want, nor give myself permission to want it. It annoys me, it annoys my parents, it annoys my friends, and it annoys my cat. But that’s how it is.
I WISH I had some Fi to haul Ne’s ass into a chair and decide: NOPE. But no, instead Ne hauls me around with Fi going “Um… I don’t know how I feel yet?”
But anyway, rant aside: back to your question.
How do I see Si and Te in me?
I see Te a lot when I ‘temporarily loop’ in order to avoid dealing with my feelings. I do not LIKE my feelings. I consider them a major pain in the butt. When my grandpa died, I was a wreck before it happened. I didn’t even know him that well, but it took him a long time to die. His organs slowly shut down. I was so immersed in the pain of what was happening to my loved ones, that I cried way more than any of them. But after his death, my Te immediately kicked in. Mom wanted to clear out his house. Like, immediately. That’s how she copes.
So we did. I put aside my emotions, went into that house, and went through all my grandparents’ stuff. We filled a dumpster. I organized everything we decided to keep in piles for the family to choose from after the funeral. A lot of my decisions were people-motivated – my cousins loved playing these games with Grandma. Shall we keep them? I’ll make sure they have all the pieces and put them in nice piles. I did the funeral video. Everyone needs a Ne-dom for that. It wasn’t just about Grandpa, it was about his life. His dreams. His parents. The culture he grew up in. I managed the voice-over, without falling to pieces.
And then, I moved on.
My Si is very poor. I may be adverse to CHANGE when people announce it (and I have to deal with it a lot, my parents literally cannot live six months without changing their house around, the yard, etc) but I am not stuck in the past. Half the time it never comes to my mind. The past flows beyond me. A day can seem a week ago, and three years ago can seem like yesterday. I gaped when a friend showed me a picture recently with 2014 stamped on the bottom. That was that long ago!? My grasp on time sucks. My awareness of time sucks. My own carelessness with time… sucks. A Si-friend recently said, “You should take more pictures with your cat. You will want them when she’s eventually gone.”
I stared at her. “I will?”
See, I don’t think like that. When people, places, things, are gone, I miss them. I love them. I still think about them sometimes, but they are gone. I do not pour over pictures. I do not sit and endlessly talk about the past. I do not want to think about the past. I moved on.
Sometimes, people tell me I should slow down, or take more time with that, since they do not want me to “look back one day, and regret this moment.”
Thing is, that probably won’t happen. I rarely go back.
Unless I hurt someone badly, and never received their forgiveness, or am beating myself up about something I should have done to stop something bad from happening, I don’t look back and regret. You cannot drive a car staring into your rear view mirror. In that way, I am careless. But I don’t know how to NOT be careless. Things matter right now, and then they’re gone. I loved that show, but it’s canceled. There’s new stuff to watch. I take in so much of it (as a Ne-dom), only a few things stick longer than six months.
And sometimes, I desperately want them to stick. I sit with someone or something loving it, immersed in its beauty, and think, “How can I hold onto it? I already feel it slipping away! WHY CAN’T I APPRECIATE THIS MORE?”
This is going to sound weird, because it is weird. But, under stress… I start obsessively tinkering with sensory elements. I’ve been editing and rewriting a book for what seems like forever (forever to me is four months, but I don’t want to talk about how this is the eighth draft of the fourth version of this book in two years) which is very tedious, Si-driven work. My Te is happy to help out with deadlines, and charts, and word counts, and I have a nice little sheet of paper with things marked on it, where I enter my progress each day to keep myself motivated. But I swear on my soul, yesterday when I opened the file, my Si went nuts and said: I don’t like this font. It curls funny. Change it.
So I did.
And then I sat there for at least ten minutes, changing the font, again and again, then the sizing several times. I printed out a page to see how it will look in book form, then promptly forgot which configuration I used (poor Si!) and had to print several more sheets in different sizes. I never did figure out which was the font and what size I used for that first sheet. (Shame, I like it the best.) Then I resized the file across my screen, to try and get the font to ‘curl’ how I like it, so I could read it. I cannot read it, unless it’s the right size. And font. And I must edit so there are no paragraphs that end with one word on the next line.
(Are you laughing yet? Is that not pathetic? Welcome to my life.)
Screw inferior Si. It’s bullshit.
I never know how to say this without hurting feelings but… Fi-doms are sensitive and since INFPs have higher Si, they do not forgive you fast.
Think about two terrific insults against NFPs (from future husbands) in literature and compare them to how you process things.
Gilbert Blythe pulls Anne Shirley’s braid and calls her carrots. The little INFP smashes her slate against his head and screams at him in class. She then tells Diana “the iron has entered my soul: I shall never forgive him,” and proceeds to ignore him, compete with him, and refuse to speak to him. For years. Gibert has to grovel to get on her good side, many times. She is super sensitive and her emotions flare up immediately. “You hurt me EXCRUCIATINGLY,” she says. She means it. He DID.
Mr. Darcy insults Lizzie’s appearance (she is not handsome enough to tempt me into a dance – ie, she’s not that pretty) in Pride & Prejudice. ENFP Lizzie gapes at him, then promptly turns it into a joke. She never brings it up again. She’s mad, but more mad about what he does to Jane than his insult. She finally confronts him when he proposes, but not about that. No, it was not the insult that hit her; it was the impression she formed of his character, based on it. And when he writes her a letter that basically calls out her family for being loud, obnoxious, inappropriate trash, she is pissed but has enough high Te to realize: he has every right to feel that way about us, based on what he saw. Once she realizes WHY he thinks how he does, her anger cools. And her mind changes about him. The anger dissipates.
Did he hurt her? Sure. Deeply? Not so much.
Someone walked up to my INFP the other day and insulted her appearance. It hurt. A lot. She will probably never speak to him again.
A person insulted me to my face at dinner a few years ago. He basically implied the people I work with and the caliber of their work is poor, and I should do a better job selecting the material we work on together. (IE: Wow, you suck.) I bitch-slapped him good with a Te-snarl comeback and … promptly moved on. I was mildly annoyed by it, and it certainly colored our interactions from that point on, but I wasn’t hurt by it so much as annoyed. We stayed “friends.”
I can count the number of times people have actually hurt my feelings on one hand. My Te is strong.
How do I know this?
I’m one of the first people to come up with a rational, non-emotional “fix it” to problems. I often discount my own feelings or put them aside entirely, to get a job done. I remember one time, a friend PM’d me after I wrote a movie review and said, “But did you LIKE it?? You wrote an excellent review, but it was so non-emotional I don’t even know what YOU thought of it.” I criticized the poor elements and talked about the good ones, but there was none of “me” there.
I admit, I was a little more emotionally reactive as a child / young teeanger, but Fi still wasn’t running the show. Most Fi-dom children are very sensitive. When asked what I was like, various family members (without consulting one another) have laughed and said, “Your focus was on being a comedian. You wanted to make people laugh. But you were not especially emotional.”
I’m not. It’s true. Sometimes to my own determent.
- ENFP Mod
PS: If you get to the end of this certain you are an NFP, but you don’t know what you do in a situation in order to compare it to Lizzie or Anne’s emotional reactions, congrats: that’s shitastic inferior Si. You are an indecisive Ne-dom.
You need to shake it up a little. Be a little lazy or a little slutty. Make a mistake. You’re never going to look back and wish you’d been a little uptight. And stop always saying what everyone wants to hear. Tell someone off. It’s good for them, better for you, especially if it’s a car salesperson. I want you to fall in love and it has to be someone who’s worthy. Find a decent man who loves you just a little more than you love him. He needs to think he is lucky to have you and not the other way around. Never make yourself small for anyone. Be your own person and try wearing a little lipstick.
Diane Pierce, Grey’s Anatomy
This episode hit home because I wish this is the advice that my mom would have given me before she died.
Seeing You On The Other Side (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)
Summary: As an old women, you feel yourself slipping away from life on Earth. As you cross over, you reflect on everything wonderful in your life, before making your way to the Afterlife.
Warnings: Mention of character death, but not graphic or terrible. Mentions of the Afterlife? (Not sure if this will offend some people.)
Time Period: Hamiltime, all though not super specific.
A/N: I know it is semi-based off Eliza’s part in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story,” but that was my intetntion. And I am sorry if you are offended by the talk of the Afterlife. I know not everyone belives in it, but I tried to keep any religious mentions out of it. Without further ado, enjoy!
You laid in your bed, trying to rest but finding it near impossible. As you tossed and turned more, a large cough escaped your throat. This alerted the other members of the house, and slowly your bedroom door creaked open.
“Mother, are you alright?” your daughter Eliza, who was named after your best friend, asked as she softly stepped into the room.
Instead of answering, you gave her a small nod and smiled. She started towards your bed and sat on the edge. Smiling sadly down at you, she grabbed your hand and held it tightly.
You squeezed back and rested your free hand on her check, trying to console her.
“Please don’t worry about me, it’s all going to alright.” You reassured your daughter.
“But I’m scared.” she confessed. “I don’t want to lose you.” Tears now started to slide down her face.
About a week ago, you had contracted pneumonia, and each day you felt worse than the day before. You knew your time was coming soon, and you had confided your suspicion with your daughter.
“Do not be scared, you are such a beautiful and strong woman, exactly like who you were named after. I promise, you will be completely fine when I am gone.” you promised her, wiping away her tears just like you did when she was younger.
“Don’t talk like that, mom.” she whispered.
“Shhh it’s alright, I will be alright. For now, I’m going to try and get some more sleep darling, I’ll see you soon.” you told her, squeezing her hand before she stood up. Your daughter learned down, kissed your forehead, and walked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Letting out another cough, you could feel your eyes growing weak, and you knew that you would not be waking up to see your daughter once they closed. It turned out that whenever people said that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die was true. Once you closed your eyes, you saw all the wonderful achievements you had throughout your lifetime.
You saw the first time you had met Alexander Hamilton. It was while you were taking a stroll through town, you stumbled across a debate between Alexander and a Mr. Samuel Seabury. After the debate, you had approached Alexander and told him how much you agreed. “Why should a tiny island across the sea regulate the price of tea?” Luckily, he wasn’t like most closed-minded men. He accepted opinions. After flirting with you quite a bit, he asked if he could write you, and the rest was history.
Next, you saw Alexander on one knee, the day he proposed. Right after that, you had a flash of yours and Alexander’s wedding day, when you had become husband and wife. It was magical. Although the Revolution was still going on, you managed to scrape together one night of romance to celebrate your union.
After that, you saw the day you had told Alexander you were pregnant with your first child, Philip, and the day he was born right after that. You saw all of your children before your eyes, growing up all over again. You remembered the tears shed by both you and Alexander as you took turns holding the bundles of joys that were the best parts of you and the best parts of Alexander.
Unfortunately, you then saw your first born dying in your arms. The time that followed the event had put a strain on your marriage with Alexander, but after moving Uptown you worked through it and fell in love again. But then he went and published that damn pamphlet, and you had to work so hard to build your marriage again.
Then, one of the most horrifying sights flashed before your eyes. You saw Alexander dying as you held him in your arms, and he told you to take your time joining him. That was when your heart a shattered into a million, tiny pieces, and it had never been the same again.
After Alexander had died, you started to work your butt off so people would tell his story once you were gone, trying to secure the legacy he always worked so hard for. You interviewed each and every soldier that your husband fought with, and tried to translate all of his thousands of pages of writings, proving to everyone of the good your husband did.
Then for a while, you helped out your best friend (more like a sister), Eliza Schuyler, to start the first private orphanage in New York City. She got to raise hundreds of children, although she never had any of her own. And you got to experience joy as well. Although, each child’s sparkling eyes reminded you of what you saw in Alexander’s
Once you had helped her to achieve her dream, you continued on with your own dream. You went around and spoke out for those who did not have the equal rights as white males in America.
You started out by speaking against slavery, trying to convince everyone that you cannot enslave another human being. Next, you focused on helping women get their own rights. You even attended the first conference dealing with women’s rights in Seneca Falls, New York.
Every time you finished speaking, you could feel a pain in your chest. Alexander could have done so much better if only he had the time. Each time you thought you weren’t going to live to see another day, the Lord granted you more time. Each time you were extremely grateful, but some days you wanted to lie down and wake up with Alexander.
Finally, you saw all of your family that was still alive. You saw your beautiful daughters, dashing sons, and extraordinary grandchildren and great-grandchildren. You had such a blessed life, and you got to share so many moments surrounded by the people you loved.
Your only thought was had you done enough? Would others continue to tell the story of Alexander Hamilton and his wife, (y/n) Hamilton?
You could feel your soul slipping away from your body, yet you did not try to protest. After years of having faith, you knew that you were heading somewhere beyond life on Earth; the Afterlife. So, you let go of everything and let the unknown consume you.
When you opened your eyes again, you had to blink a couple of times to let your eyes adjust to the bright light. You stood up and looked down at the wrinkles in your dress. As you tried to brush them out, you noticed something that made you gasp.
Once you brought your hand up to eyelevel, you saw that there were no wrinkles. It looked like it had long ago when you were young. One could only assume that the rest of you looked younger as well.
Although you were still marveling, you heard a cough that brought you make to your senses. Looking up before you, you saw a sight that made you want to cry. In front of you, stood every person you had loved in your lifetime, but had passed away before you.
First, you saw your mother and father, who ran to embrace their daughter. Pulling away, you felt like you wanted to cry but couldn’t, for there were no tears in the Afterlife.
Glancing around you saw the all of Alexander’s friends (that became your friends) who had died in the war, or shortly after. Lafayette, Hercules, and John all smiled at you and nodded their heads in thanks for making sure the world knew of their stories.
The people who stood directly behind them made you want to jump for joy. “Angelica, Eliza.” you breathed out, not believing your best friends, who were more like sisters, were standing before your eyes again.
“And Peggy.” the youngest sister, stated as she also embraced you in a hug, and you couldn’t help but laugh. After a few moments, you pulled away.
Finally, you saw two figures standing behind everyone, and your heart soared. There in front of your very eyes stood your first born child, Philip, and your soulmate, Alexander.
You pulled Philp into a bone-crushing hug as any mother would if she had outlived her son by more than 50 years. You checked over his appearance and saw that he looked absolutely perfect. “I love you, mom.” he told you.
Pulling away from your son, you walked slowly towards your husband. Once you got close enough, you broke into a run, and threw yourself into his arms; taking notice of his younger appearance.
Looking into the eyes you had fallen in love with, you brought you lips near his and crashed them together. You had been waiting 50 years to do that.
“Alexander, I’ve missed you so much. I love you.” you sighed in content.
“I know, (y/n), my love. But I’m glad you’ve taken your time in coming to see me again. I just want you to know how proud I am over you, of all of your accomplishments. You did so much more than I ever could.” Alexander complimented, peppering your face in kisses.
You giggled and melted into the hold Alexander still had on you. Now, you never had to worry about having enough time. You were going to spend eternity with those that you loved most.
Thanks for being the coolest and best moms in the WHOLE world, even if ya guys don’t allow me to skip on homework you’re both still cool. Thanks for being there, for helping me when I need help, for teaching me cool stuff, for telling me history, for forgiving me when I mess up the house or when I eat more icecream when ya both told me not to, for giving me LOTS of hugs, for cheering me up when I feel down, for protecting me from lots of baddies, and the MOST important of them all, for loving me.
I’m really really REALLY happy that you’re both my moms and I know that I’m the luckiest kid in the world cause of this. I want you both to know that I love you both A LOT, more than UY Scuti (It’s a SUPER big red supergiant star in the Scutum constellation ) and if any baddie tries to hurt you, I’ll make sure to know and use the super punch Dad’s teaching me !!!
If you're still doing reactions, could you maybe do another Jaal/f!Ryder baby reaction where the crew meet the baby (or babies) for the first time, maybe include Jaal's reaction to meeting his new child(ren) for the first time too? :)c
Oh hell yes baby!!!
This is Part 1 of 2 :) part one is Jaal’s reaction. Part two will be the companions reaction.
Jaal had been pacing outside the door of the room Ryder had been wheeled into. His mother’s and a few of his sisters had come to be present for the birth.
Lexi came out through the door, hospital scrubs on, slowly pulling off her plastic gloves and stuffing them in her back pocket.
Jaal and the rest of his family, including Drack, Cora, Vetra, Scott and Liam, immediately crowded her.
“How is she? Is my sister ok?”
“When can we see her?”
“Are the children alright?”
“What’s taking so long?”
The plethora of questions hit her like a shotgun.
“Where is Sara?” Jaal asked.
Lexi could see the nervous fear in his eyes and her heart went out to him.
“She’s fine. It’s taking a little longer because we want to be careful. These are hybrid human-angara infants we are trying to bring into the world. We don’t want anything going wrong.” Lexi explained.
“That’s alright then, and what about - wait did you say infants?! As in… More than one?!” Jaal exclaimed.
Lexi smiled. Nodding in affirmation.
A smile broke out on Jaal’s face and he turned to Sahuna, who wore the same expression.
“Two children. Twins. It does tend to be genetic.” Scott explained.
“Yes. It was surprising we didn’t catch it on earlier scans. But they are both healthy. You will have to wait another bit but it’s almost time. Jaal, if you’d like to be there, you can come with me.” Lexi explained.
Jaal nodded. Hugging his mother he turned to Scott.
“Give her my love ok?” Scott smiled, patting Jaal’s shoulder.
“Of course brother!”
“Yeah, still not happening with the brother thing.” Scott laughed.
Jaal entered the room where Sara was laying on a white hospital bed. He rushed to her side. Clasping their hands together and kissing every finger, placing a final kiss on the inside of her wrist.
“Jaal.” She smiled, already seeming tired.
“Darling. How are you feeling? Can I get anything? Do anything?”
“I’m fine Jaal. Just a little nervous. Excited but still nervous.”
“Nervous about what?”
She was silent for a moment?“
“Do you think I’ll be a good mom? My parents were… A little distant. Weren’t big on emotions or expressing affection… I want to love these babies with everything I am, but what if I end up being…”
“Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you Jaal!”
“Are you excited to meet them?”
“More than anything.”
“Then you are off to a great start.” Jaal reasured, smiling and placing another kiss on her hand.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiled.
“You will never find out.”
10 hours of labour, and Jaal stayed with her through every second.
When the first cry was heard Jaal’s heart soared. He could barely catch a glimpse of the child as it was rushed off to be cleaned and wrapped in cloth. He didn’t have much time to ponder it as another cry was heard. This time from Sara.
Her face contorted in pain.
“My darling one..” He cooed and squeezed her hand rubbing circles into her back, kissing the side of her face.
“I see the head.”
“Keep going Sara.” Lexi said, holding her other hand.
Another voice entered the room. Crying it’s tiny lungs out. Sara slumped back into the bed, exhausted.
The two babies were brought back into the room to the two awaiting parents.
“A girl and a boy.” Lexi said, handing each a child.
Sara held their boy while Jaal help their little girl.
The children had angaran physiology, but with human skin pigment and green eyes like their mother.
“Your eyes.” Jaal smiled, looking over at Sara. The mother of his children. The light of his life.
He pulled her close tucking his head underneath his chin, humming in satisfaction.
“I love you.” Sara sighed, which only made Jaal’s heart swell more. So much he felt he was bursting from how perfect this felt.
“Have you thought of names yet?” Lexi asked.
Jaal pulled away and looked down at Sara. She seemed to be thinking.
“I was going to ask Sahuna her opinion.” Sara smiled.
Jaal’s heart had officially burst. She knew how much Jaal loved Sahuna and knew having her say on it would make him happy, but she also valued her alien mothers opinion and insight.
“Then why don’t you ask her?” Sahuna smiled, strolling in, Scott in tow.
“Mother! Brother!” Jaal exclaimed.
“The brother thing is still so not happening.” Scott sighed, making a bee line for Sara, kissing her forehead and taking a look at the two babies.
“Luke and Leia. That’s my vote.” Scott snickered to which Sara simply smacked him, leaving Jaal and Sahuna to stare quizzically.
“Don’t mind him. He was dropped on his head as a baby.” Sara dead-panned, turning their attention to the bundle in her arms, cooing and tickling the baby.
Sahuna took the girl from Jaal, cradling her and staring down lovingly at her newest grandchild.
“Uthreya. A family name. She will wear it well.” Sahuna smiled.
“It sounds beautiful.” Sara said, grinning over at Sahuna and Jaal.
“I agree.” Jaal affirmed.
Sara turned her attention to the little boy in her arms again. It was reaching up, grasping at her cheeks and ears, gurgling and grunting in its cute baby way.
Sahuna say next to her, placing Uthreya back in Jaal’s arms and the placing a hand on the baby boy’s head. Looking up at Sara she smiled.
“Feeling like an ‘Alec’ to me.” Sahuna announced, smiling at the dumbfounded Sara.
“But… It’s a human name.” Sara said.
“He is half human. His mother is a human. So was his grandfather. And without his grandfather, you never would have made it here, and made my son so happy, made me so happy or gifted our family with these beautiful children. I am grateful. To him. It is a wonderful name that I hope he will appreciate one day too.” Sahuna finished.
Sara nodded, fighting back tears of joy and cuddling her baby boy to her.
Jaal joined her, wrapping an arm around her once again.
Sahuna ushered Scott out of the room so they could give the two more privacy.
“Uthreya and Alec. An unusual pairing.” Jaal chuckled.
“Kind of like us in a way.” Sara giggled.
Jaal nuzzled his face into her neck.
“Very much like us. I love it.” He sighed.
I’ve been taking a little time to write this out. (no I’m kidding i just spent my day watching that scene, don’t judge me thanks)
But seriously, I think this scene between Stef and Lena was the purest, most beautiful and full of love that I’ve ever seen. They have been going through A LOT and I felt like that kiss, those hands and arms, were the way for them to say “Hey, no matter what, we are still here and no fucking one will be taking us apart”, and I know, the kiss said more than words did. I’m just so thanfkul for Teri and Sherri, their chemistry and the endless love for each other, that make everything so much easier and wonderful. I will never be thankful enough to these two. I’m so happy we finally had a scene like this, I think i’ts comparable only to 2x03, and is a lot more than 1x18, (3x14 is different for me). I love my moms, I love The Fosters even tho they made us wait so MUCH, but it was totally worth it. I love Teri and Sherri with all my heart and soul.
“Chris I already told you more times than I can count it’s AJ now!”
Aj is my new favorite sorry Chris, I just love their relationship so much aah and I believe it’s mother’s day tomorrow in the Usa, I wanted to play with Chris’ floral arrangement talent while playing with Aj because I love her! 😂 She reminds me of me so much when I was younger especially when it came to my brother’s dates ! 😂
We didn’t see his mom so I tried to incorporate her the most subtle way possible 😊 I wish we’d meet Kyle too but later maybe ♥️
This fluffy one shot is dedicated to the amazing Nate ( @mikaelboukhalls ) and the lovely Isi ( @isisisak ) who I both love very much
It’s way too early in the morning and Isak isn’t entirely sure how Even managed to coax him out of bed on a Sunday, but here they are, cooking what Even keeps calling the best breakfast ever. Just as Even is pushing Isak against the kitchen counter with kisses that are bound to turn into more the bell rings.
“He’s early,” Even notes, pulling himself out of Isak’s reach. “Please don’t burn the house down while I’m away.”
“The door is literally there, Even, I think I’ll manage,” Isak says, rolling his eyes. Even just grins at him.
“Eskild told me some very horrifying stories, like something about pancakes…” even thankfully gets interrupted by the doorbell ringing again.
“Just go open the door. I think I’ll manage.” Even’s laugh makes his stomach flutter, even after all the months they’ve been together.
Sure, Isak can perfectly manage the kitchen and the like five things that are cooking and baking at once, thanks, but… when Even comes back followed by his best friend he’s very grateful.
“Good morning, Isak,” Mikael says brightly. “I’ve got a present for you two.” He lifts the plastic bag up that he’s carrying with him.
“Present?” Isak asks, as Even takes his place by his side again and saves their perfect breakfast from doom.
“Yes. I’ll wait until we’re all sitting down, though. Can I help?” Mikael asks, but Even immediately signals him to sit down.
“You’re a guest in our house and our guests don’t have to work,” he says, while simultaneously flipping a pancake over in mid air. Why does he always have to be so extra?
Our house. Those words still do something to Isak. They make him a little dizzy, but he has never been happier.
It doesn’t take that long for breakfast to be ready. Isak and Mikael (who just started helping out before the other boys could object) set the table, while Even takes care of making sure everything is ready.
By the time they sit down the whole kitchen table is full of food and Isak is sure they’re going to be able to eat leftovers for half a week.
“Håper det smaker,” Even says, but Mikael stops him.
“Wait, wait. I have a present for you guys remember!” He grabs the plastic bag and hands it over to Isak who puts it between him and Even.
“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped up, but as you know Even my wrapping skills suck, so.” It’s one of those flower pots where all you need to do is add the earth. It’s cool and their very first plant, but that doesn’t explain the laughing fit Even has. He clutches his sides and Mikael isn’t doing much better.
“Am I missing something?” That just makes them laugh harder.
“I can’t believe this. You never told him that story?” Mikael asks, after they calmed down a little.
“It never came up,” Even says with a shrug.
“Okay, so what’s the story?”
“The first time Mikael met my parents he um…”
“I was so nervous I bought his mother sunflowers.”
“Isn’t your mom-”
“Allergic to literally all flowers on the planet? Yes, she is.”
“But she didn’t tell me that. She just took them and put them in a vase and-”
“Ended up sneezing the rest of the day.”
“And the hives…”
“But, she wouldn’t let us take them away either. Because she loved them so much. She even called Mikael the sunflower child. Sometimes I think she loves you more than me, man,” Even says laughing. Mikael just gives him a sheepish grin.
“You just don’t try hard enough at the whole son thing,” he says and Even just rolls his eyes at him.
“I’m pretty sure she loves Isak more than anyone on earth, though. I was pretty sure she wanted to adopt him,” Even says, interlacing his fingers with Isak’s. Isak just smiles.
“Aw, look at you two being cute. It’s so sickening it almost makes me want to skip out on all of this great food you made us,” Mikael says, before loading up his plate. “Almost.”
So they eat and talk about school and work and this break dance tournament Mikael is excited about. They eat and they talk and they game and they joke.
Mikael the sunflower child and Even the sun. Isak is so happy Even has Mikael back into his life, and he’s happy he gained a new friend.
so after FINALLY watching the final bee and puppycat episode I have a lot of feelings and thoughts on it
i feel like bee is a cyborg, not a robot like a lot of people are saying, since there’s that picture that natasha drew of her and her dad when she was younger,
~i was thinking that maybe something happened to her and maybe her dad that he had to ‘fix’ her to be able to survive something that happened(which might be why he’s gone[maybe])
~and this is plausible since we know that he’s really good at machines, making video games for bee since she was small plus making the machine that was fixing her arm
~i dunno he could have been up with some shady stuff that he knew was gonna happen so he could have prepared before hand for bee
~also THAAAATS WHY BEE HATES WATER SO MUCH WOW I THOUGHT SHE JUST DIDNT LIKE WATER
~ along with why she doesn’t really need a kitchen, she likes to eat but doesn’t need to
also i feel like the reason why i think cardomons mum started crying jellyfish instead of waking up is because she ate it, so it made her biggest dream come true (hence her cute jellyfish story) instead of having cardomons dream of her waking up come true(my poor baby!)
~does that mean that stickys dream was to be colorful?
~cardomons mom was so pretty i wanted to cry even more than their story was making me do already
~plus DECKARD WAS SO ADORABLE i absolutely loved his interactions with bee throughout the whole episode and his picture of them in their matching aprons killed me
~UGHH I WISH HE WAS IN MORE EPISODES
~and awwww bee likes him and hopes shes soul binded with him
~i love that he has so many siblings and lives with them, especially since i’ve lived with all 6 of my other siblings and their families
~i think it’s cool that they make deckard depressed,but don’t really talk down on it but instead just normally bring it up
~toast sounded a lot like the dub usagi in sailor moon and she’ll FIGHT U WHILE TELLING U ABOUT HER EX WIFE
i just love bee and puppycat, but i wish it was a bit more cohesive with the story in general, especially since we didn’t learn anything new about puppycat except that the pilot was cannon in the series. but overall i really enjoyed the episode and all that we’ve leaned about bee AND I’D SELL MY SOUL FOR MORE SEASONS ESPECIALLY SINCE EVERYTHING ALWAYS LOOKS SO DYNAMIC AND AESTHETICLY PLEASING
Mom’s are the single most greatest creatures in all of existence. They are our providers, nurturers, teachers, protectors, literally our everything. Living and breathing Angels sent to love us at our best, at our worst, completely and unconditionally. Without them the world wouldn’t exist. My life would be meaningless and completely unlivable without mine. I love her more than I do myself. She is my everything.
love this blog so much, thanks for your awesome content! i know you don't really talk about beauty stuff on here, but i love the minimal makeup you wear. would you mind sharing what your favorite lipstick is?
I can do you one better! Here are my favourite makeup products (pretty much all of them tbh lol) and I will never put on more than what’s shown here except maybe eyeliner (I don’t understand contour). Two of those blushes were also free from Sephora for this year so grab them (birthday = Tarte and points = Nars). Most of these are also gifts from my best friends/mom lol (colours are written in brackets)
Skin: Smashbox BB Cream (Light/Natural)
Concealers: Clarins (instant light in 03), Nars (honey)
Blushes: Tarte (paaarty), Nars (orgasm), and Becca (flowerchild)
Highlighter: Becca (Opal)
Lips: (actually lost my fave lipstick recently idk the colour anymore ugh) Nyx (soft matte lip cream in Cannes), Sephora (cream lip stain in 41) and Kiko (intense lavish in 02)
Eyes: Buxom mascara (!!!) and Benefit mascara
Eyebrows: Nyx (microbrow pencil in espresso), and Nyx (tinted brow mascara in black - the best)