a lot happier

i sometimes think about how jake peralta went from someone who was uncomfortable with emotions, who would’ve rather been a lone wolf, who thought he had no real family and would end up alone, to someone who regularly says “i love you” openly to amy and terry and holt and his squad, who communicates his affection and resolves his fears with others, who clearly has his friends’ backs just as they do his, and i just get randomly emotional about his character growth and how far he’s come

Advice to young fans and young fandoms: You don’t have to let creator Q&A reveals of “canon” spoil your fun with fanfic and fan art. You’ll be a lot happier in the long run if you don’t give in to the idea that you have to retcon all your fan works and tear down blog posts about your headcanons every time a creator lets slip some “fact” online or at a convention.

Don’t ever, EVER feel discouraged when making your Animal Crossing town. 

This game is supposed to be relaxing, not stressful. 

Hacked or not, your town is special to you, and thats AMAZING. 

Don’t worry about what other people think, because its your town, not theirs.

Make a town that YOU enjoy and that will make YOU happy. 

This is domestic right? For @scruffysterek hope you like it.

Story time…again. Stiles wins the bread and butter with his FBI job and Derek has gotten a little older, scruffier and a heck of a lot happier. He doesn’t even care about shopping in his PJs. I like them with two boys–not sure why. And how they have them is entirely up to you. Mpreg, or adoption or surrogacy or whatever…but if it’s Mpreg you know who the ‘mother is’ lol.

And here’s a semi sequel. It’s a lot worse, but whatever…I’m good a screwing things up.

It’s not that autistic people are against any kind of therapy. What we’re against is “early intervention” that aims to squash away all evidence of autism that will backfire when that tiny child is older.

Teach autistic kids how to be a healthy autistic person with a bag of tricks to cope when their brain and the world clash and they will be a lot happier later in life.

ive said this before but genuinely if kin shit is causing you any distress (getting mad at or fucking dissociating when you see ‘doubles’, needing people to refer to a fictional character as “you” rather than “them”, etc etc etc) you NEED to step back from it and distance yourself

like its not a healthy coping mechanism. im sorry but its not. if you have identity issues you NEED to find other ways of handling it bc you cant LARP as a fictional character forever, and you cant be doing that shit in the real world. you arent even really treating the problem, youre kind of just putting a bandaid over a gaping open wound and creating more problems for yourself.

and then it evolves into this niche subculture of people freaking out bc someone else projects on the same character as you, and finding excuses to start drama and bully people and all that. its not good, and thankfully we seem to be collectively moving on from that, but that whole mindset is still out there.

and let me be clear i dont actually think the concept of being “fictionkin” is irredeemable. its silly and weird and “cringey” and you just have to accept that, but like when you dont take it too seriously and surround yourself with people who are the same way it can absolutely be fun and harmless. just. let yourself see it for what it is and move on from all the bullshit surrounding it and i promise you will be a lot happier.

3

Hey hey hey look who’s alive! :D I moved into my university awhile ago so I’ve been trying to figure out balance in my life and as a result I haven’t been on here as much. In high school I didn’t really understand the social life vs sleep vs school thing, but I do nowwww D: It’s really tempting to be constantly hanging out with friends, especially since my closest friends live right next door to me, and I can just pop in and hang out whenever I want. There’s also soooo much homework and so much reading >.< I was a little homesick at the beginning, but now that I’ve become a lot closer to my friends I’m a lot happier!

3

These days im all over the spectrum, too much one side for the other, not enough of this for that. Im most comfortable in-between and i hope one day ill know if what i feel comfortable with is OK

Pssst what if Damien gave birth to Lucien and started transitioning a little bit after (or during, though still deciding to carry the pregnancy to term) and Lucien became rebellious in youth mainly because he always got into fights when people mocked his dad or insisted his dad was his mom which is why he has a rebellious streak against authority figures and a history of therapy but a clearly great relationship with Damien

And what if Damien and Lucien moved to the cul-de-sac to get away from the baggage of people who knew Damien pre-transition and while Lucien hasn’t lost his rebellious streak they’re a lot happier than they were before

Also what if, while deciding on a new last name to cut all ties with a past life, Lucien was around and ecstatic to get the last name Bloodmarch because he thought it’d make a statement

how to wake up happier ♡

For the past few days I’ve woken up feeling a lot happier and way more positive, simply by starting a few more healthy habits. I figured that I might sprinkle and share some of my positivity with you peeps! ♡ 

If you are recovering from any mental health issues, or want to take the next step, this might be benefitial to you, as it was to me - however, I will warn you that different things work for different people :)

before bed:
practise self-care and self-love, think positive thoughts, breathe fresh air, listen to calming music, read a good and positive book, drink water - stay hydrated kiddos, drink some calming tea, take any medication you need to, make sure everything you need for tomorrow is prepared and make sure that you room is in good conditions to sleep in. 

when you wake up:
don’t reach for your phone the moment you wake up, open your curtains, open your window and let some fresh air in, have a drink, stretch and remember the positive thoughts you went to bed with.

some helpful words from some beautiful peeps
if you have trouble sleeping at night (x) | @fuwaprince
tips for getting up earlier when you’re not a morning person (x) | @halseystudy
tips for balancing sleep & education (x) | @brbimstudying
the science behind sleep, and how to sleep well (x) | @tobeagenius
the masterpost of all sleeping masterposts (x) | kudos to @shelbys-advice-blog this post is amazing♡

“Quick fact. Ready? Consuming protein prior to bed time may enhance sleep quality by providing the body with amino acids necessary to create human growth hormone. This hormone plays a role in deepening sleep, as well as muscle recovery following exercise.” | @thepowerwithin

The Dozens of Times Eddie Kapbrak Came Home, and the One Time He Didn’t

(A Story in Sonia’s POV)


–There was the one time Eddie came home angry. Slamming doors, cursing under his breath. I was upset at the language, but more worried he’d catch a little finger, or a toe in the cabinets or doors. I asked why and he pushed me away. He had always been doing that lately. Am I being too much of a worrier? Maybe I am. He’s older now, and doesn’t need me as much. As much as that hurts to admit, seventeen is old enough to be independent. 


–He came home crying again. He’d been doing a lot of that, too. Something was different. He came to me for once. I was selfishly happy, but that left me when I saw him. He had a bruise under his left eye. His lip was cut, and his hands were shaking and red, a sign that he’d had a panic attack again. Those signs used to be foreign to me until he told me those weren’t asthma like I had thought for years. I’d like to think of myself as an almost expert on them now. The only thing hard for me to tell anymore is what might cause them. He has them so often. Eddie comes to me, and sits down, panting. He looks worn down and sad and resigned, as if he’s accepted a heavy fate, or like he was waiting for a piano to fall on him. 

This time when I ask him what’s wrong, he crumbles and starts to cry again. He tells me Henry and his psychopath friends cornered him in the locker room, and roughed him up. He shows me his ribs, and I see red. Partly the dried blood, partly rage. That little freak carved the word “Fag” into Eddie’s little side. It takes everything in me not to take him to the hospital, but Eddie insists he cleaned and dressed it as much as it needed, and it wasn’t deep, no stitches needed. I prayed with everything in me that it wouldn’t scar. When I asked him why they would choose that word, he becomes silent again. He seems to be trying to find the right words to say, and eventually he does. He tells me, stuttering more than the elder Denbrough boy, that it’s because they saw him kissing Richard Tozier. I had nothing to say, and he goes to his room before I could find the right words. I did eventually, over dinner. I tried to make a lighthearted joke, and said he could do better than little Richie Tozier, and that I loved him. He did laugh, but he also cried. This time it was the good way. 


–One time he came home excited, his feet barely touching the ground as he ran upstairs. I called out to him to get the door, but he was down just as fast heading out again. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright, and I can’t help but to think that just a few months ago this same boy was crying in shame over what had happened. He was a lot happier in general, due in part I suppose to coming out, but mostly Richard. Richie, Richie this, and Richie that. I almost wanted to tell him I was tired of hearing it, but his happiness wasn’t something I could get tired of. Despite being a trouble maker and a bad mouth, he did take care of Eddie. I did tell him to stop coming home with love marks- unsanitary and shameless little things. I tried not to think about the fact that he still probably got them where I couldn’t see them. He may be an adult next month but he’s still my little angel.

He tells me he’s finally going out on a real date, just the two of them. That they’re going to see a movie, and he tells me not to wait up. I know I’ll try to, but he always manages to come home after I fall asleep. Sneaky little boy. He tells me he’s already left the name, address, and number of the movie theatre on the counter, and that he’ll be with Richie who can be reached as well. I have his number in my Rolodex, as I do his parents, and the rest of his friends- you never know when you might need them. He kisses my cheek and practically skips out to the beat up truck Richard drives. It has a bench seat and the driver seatbelt doesn’t work most of the time, and I cringe thinking about Richie just sitting on it so he doesn’t get a ticket for not actually wearing it. Eddie promised me he’d never drive it, so at least there’s that. 


–He came home today, silent. It’s almost worse when he does that instead of crying. Eddie was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I asked if he was okay, and he just stares at me. It feels like an eternity when he opens and says “The school won’t let Richie and I go to prom together… They said if we showed up they’d kick us out.” His voice sounds so fragile and small, like he doesn’t feel like a real person. I’m furious. I tell him I’ll call the school, but he begs me not to. He says it’s okay, he knew it would happen, that this is just the way things are. I, however, will not stand this. As soon as he goes to his room, I call his principle. I can’t remember exactly what I said, though I am equal parts embarrassed and proud to have used foul language in place of his name. “Mr. Shitstain” and I came to an agreement that they may attend as long as they are within a larger group. He will not allow them to have couple’s pictures, but he did reluctantly allow that they dance together. I tell Eddie in the morning and he cries and hugs me. He goes to Richie to give him good news. 


–He comes home after prom with a photo- the whole group is in it, all holding a sign that says “Loser’s Club”. I cringed at the name, but they chose it for themselves years ago. Eddie and Richie are next to each other, and I suppress an eye roll that Richard had ripped open his shirt to reveal an exclamation point painted on his pale abdomen at the last moment. The picture is slightly blurred, and Eddie confirms my theory when he laughs and says the camera guy was startled and tried to lunge at Richard to put all of his clothes back on. Despite this, I see the stars in his eyes. He is happy, so I am happy. 


–Lately he’s been coming home with heaps of papers, college letters, essays, SATs, tests. I try not to think about him leaving. I turn up the volume on the TV or the radio when he uses the phone to talk to his friends about it. It hurts and he knows it hurts. I’ve never been good at not worrying. This goes on for weeks. I fail to keep my tears in when he’s at school or out with friends, but at the same time, I’m immensely proud. He’s such a good boy. 


–This time he comes home, and he doesn’t say a word, and I can’t see him from the kitchen but I know something is wrong. His feet are dragging and his breathing sounds funny. I drop the spoon into the soup when I hear a crash. He’s laying on the floor and crying. Despite him being curled up in a ball I can see he’s covered in bruises and cuts, and bleeding badly. I try not to scream but when I rush to him I can’t hold it, he’s been cut up badly again, more words carved into his soft belly and his thighs. I can see the word “Queer” seeping through his khaki pantleg as he sobs. This time, he does need stitches. In many places. The only thing he says to me from the hospital bed is that he is oh so tired of this town. Richard never leaves his side, growling at anyone who causes him pain or wakes him up, like a wild animal. I’ve decided that I am incredibly grateful that he is who he is. 

He’s in the hospital for three days. Night one was cleaning and stitching and recounting what happened. The police had been called to file a report. He hesitantly confesses that Henry, Patrick, and the other cretins did this to him. Chief Bowers is red with rage. I hear him in the hallway calling my son a “flamer” but that his boy was “going to get it”. This is the first and only time I’ve yelled at a cop. Richie laughs and holds up his hand for a high five, something I wouldn’t usually reciprocate, but tonight is a night of firsts. Night two was observation and tests to see how bad the internal injuries might be. He has a concussion, but they found no internal damage aside from bruises and a cracked rib. They send him home wrapped in Ace bandages and taped up like Richard’s glasses. That night he tells me he needs to leave, that he can’t take this anymore. I’m angry, and admittedly irrational. We do not speak to each other for a week. 


–When we speak again, he walks in the door with Richie, William, and Michael. Out of his friends, Michael is my favorite despite where he lives being so messy. He brings me flowers and fresh fruits and vegetables. He washes them himself, but only once he gets here so I can see it. He’s a very well mannered and intelligent man. William is wonderful too, but I feel guilt in having trouble understanding him, and he has a habit of talking with his mouth full. He’s not as messy as Richard, so at least there is that. Eddie has healed nicely so far, most of the stitches are out already, and the scars he has, though sadly legible, are hidden under clothes. His lip and eyebrow have small scars, but they are hard to notice. The boys have folded boxes in their hands. I knew this was coming, but I still couldn’t bear it. I stubbornly told him I wouldn’t help him, and that I wouldn’t watch him either. He only nods his head, looking down. 

They pack up his belongings, and I step out into the yard, smoking my first cigarette in years. I swiped one from the Marsh girl months ago, when Eddie was starting to talk about college. I thought that was the worst, but this hurts more. He’s leaving too soon, and I can’t stop him. He promised me he’d finish high school, and go to college, but that he would not live here, in Derry. Because we weren’t completely speaking, I have no idea where he’s moving, and now I’m too embarrassed to ask. When I go back inside, William hands me a piece of paper, his handwriting surprisingly neat, with Eddie’s address, and number. He was moving just outside of the city, into the matchbox apartments. With Richard. I can’t help it. When he walks out of the front door with his things, he kisses my cheek. I can’t help it. When the car drives away, their silhouettes in the windshield. I can’t help it. I sit down on the porch, and I begin to cry. I can’t help it. 


–He doesn’t come in the door anymore. Not the way he used to. No angry slams, no excited pops as the door hits the wall. No silent entries when he’s tired. No little footsteps. He doesn’t come home. He visits, sometimes with Richard, and with his friends. He calls frequently, too. He’s a good boy. Time passes, and he came to visit after graduation. He got accepted to a college in Maine. I try to hide how happy that makes me. I promise I won’t go to the dorms too much. He and Richie talk about their lease ending and moving on campus. His little group of friends are trying their best to stick together. They all got accepted to the same school, and will try to attend until their majors take them elsewhere. It’s nice knowing that he’ll have so many friends. 

He doesn’t come home, but he visits. Holidays he even stays in his old room. Sometimes. Other times he stays with William in his new house, just down the street from mine. Sometimes they visit Richie’s parents, or Michael’s farm. It’s a lot like it used to be, but it isn’t the same. I know it never will be, and while I’m sad, I’m happy too. He doesn’t come home, but he gets married in the same church I was married in. They make the paper as the first same sex couple to get married in Derry. Someone booed them as they walked to their car, but before anyone said anything, Richard flipped them off. I don’t tell Eddie, but I caught it on camera. It’s framed in my room, shameful but endearing. He doesn’t come home, but he visits often, asking for advice. We’ll have lunch together and talk about stain removal, and he’s picked up cross stitching for Richard’s anniversary gift. He’s going to make a sign that says “Tozier-Kaspbrak” for their sitting room. 


He doesn’t come home, but he visits often. Many times with Richard, and even more happily with their new daughter. I’ve always wanted a daughter, so I spoil her rotten. I try not to be so overbearing as I was with Eddie. I know it had the wrong impression on him, and I don’t want her to feel the same. I give her sweets when they aren’t looking, and I teach her all about keeping a good home, and let her watch football with me when they need a babysitter. Eddie doesn’t know, but sports are a guilty pleasure of mine. I want her well rounded, too- to know that girls can like whatever they please. Her name is Amelia Isabelle, and she grows so fast. He doesn’t come home anymore, not like he used to. And I’m so, so grateful. He’s leading a good and proud life, and I’ve never been more proud to be the mother of Edward Tozier-Kaspbrak. He doesn’t come anymore, but when he visits, it’s like he never left at all. I’ve lived a good little life, I feel.



“Sonia Kaspbrak, 65, passed in her sleep in her home of Derry, Maine. Natural causes. She leaves her son, son-in-law, and granddaughter. Funeral to be held this Saturday, July 17th at the First Church of Derry. She will be fondly remembered by all who knew her. Everyone is welcome to attend the open service ceremony being held to celebrate her life. 
Thank you, 
Richard Tozier-Kaspbrak”

The Major Arcana as People You Meet In College

0. The Fool: The freshman. He’s fascinated by the fact he just entered college, plans on joining every club imaginable, and thinks he can handle 8AM classes. Still wears his lanyard around his neck.

I. The Magician:The one who actually has all their shit together, lives off of campus and works a real-person job. Probably works out too. You want to not like them for it but they’re too nice.

II. The High Priestess: She’s kinda quiet and reserved, but if you talk to her she’s really smart and knows a lot of fun random facts. The sweet one that unexpectedly knows a lot of fucked up shit and freaks your friends out at a party for a few minutes that one time.

III. The Empress: She’s a junior when you get to college, but she likes you a lot and shows you around. She’s a big help and tells you about local deals on food. Buys you alcohol for the party but then makes sure you stay safe when you’re drunk. Very attractive, probably gay.

IV. The Emperor: This guy is probably older than you, and tends to give really good advice when you have drama. Sometimes his male privilege goes really unchecked but he’s willing to learn and know better. Designated driver.

V. The Hierophant: Absolutely can’t cope with the fact that underage drinking is a real thing. Straight A’s, probably on some Student Government board or faculty-built club that encourages good student conduct. Kinda snobby so you don’t talk to them much, but their help in Physics class was the only reason you passed.

VI. The Lovers: You’ve never known these people to not be dating. They’re basically already married and you’re basically their first child. When The Fool comes around you get upgraded to Aunt or Uncle or something. They give good relationship advice.

VII. The Chariot: He’s friends with all the right people, gets away with outrageous antics and never gets in trouble. Always has tickets to that concert you want. Cocky with a heart of gold. Smooth af. Probably tries to ask you on a date.

VIII. Strength: Deals with way more shit than you do. Holds your arm so you don’t rip somebody’s neck out when that person tries to pick a fight. Says they’ll “deal with” the creeper who’s been stalking you. You have no idea what she said to them, but they never approach you again.

IX. The Hermit: The friend that everyone likes, wise beyond their years. Every time you invite them to hang out, they’re busy with homework or something else comes up, even though they’re legitimately not trying to avoid you. Meditates daily. Forgets about that huge campus event you go to every year.

X. The Wheel of Fortune: You meet in a class and hit it off really well. You guys are close for a while, and you learn some life lessons and gain some new interests or viewpoints. The new semester rolls around and they basically fall off the face of the map.

XI. Justice: The friend who almost got alcohol poisoning once and completely changed their life afterwards. They’re much more stable now and seem a lot happier. They invite you to a bonfire at some point.

XII. The Hanged Man: He’s kind of a weird guy, but in a way that you still like hanging out with him. Has drastically different views about the world than the rest of your friends, which leads to a lot of really in-depth, interesting discussions. You emerge from that friendship a lot smarter.

XIII. Death: The one that finally managed to convince you to drop that club, break up with that person, or quit that destructive habit. Their solution for everything seems to be hard cut offs, you’re both impressed and intimidated by it.

XIV. Temperance:The student tutor you finally go to in an hour of need. They manage to completely salvage your paper from the brink of despair in under an hour. You feel like you have been touched by an angel.

XV. The Devil:Invites you to his birthday party, which is by far the trashiest situation you ever experience. Meanwhile, he gets tanked, calls somebody a string of offensive slurs, then does a line of cocaine. You don’t speak anymore.

XVI. The Tower: They seem cool and all, you talk now and then but are still getting to know them. Then, you hear them say something INCREDIBLY problematic or hear down the grape vine about their old sexual assault charges. You can’t look at them the same way anymore and now just thinking about how you used to hang out leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

XVII. The Star: That faculty member you LOVE. She helps you build your schedule, helps you fix your grade in the class, and reminds you that some people aren’t so bad after all.

XVIII. The Moon: Things are pretty good. You have a solid relationship going with somebody, then this asshole shows up and now you have to rethink everything about your current relationship and if they’re really worth dumping someone over. You agonize over it, not knowing what you want, until it just kinda awkwardly blows over and you figure out they aren’t into your gender anyway.

XIX. The Sun: This person is the one always sharing mildly-political information on Facebook. Before you know it, you’re freshly passionate about the causes you care for the most, and still educated on the ones you don’t put as much energy into. You cared about these things before, but they’re the person that armed you with the knowledge you needed to actually have constructive dialogue about it.

XX. Judgement: Best friends with Justice, and is remodeling her entire life. You don’t hang out with her often so the next time you see her she has a new hobby, new major, new hairstyle, and has probably stopped talking to certain members of her family. It was tough but she seems better for it.

XXI. The World: Your person. They stick with you from year one to when you graduate. You complement each other really well. You still make healthy time for other people but they’re still your best friend. Eventually when you get older they’ll have a kid and name it after you probably.