all these things i wanted to do but was too lazy have been made easy by this photo set thing

anonymous asked:

Ahhh how about GOM+Kagami+Hanamiya (If it's too many charas, sorry D:) reaction to seeing their s/o fangirling over their ANIME HUSBANDS and not paying them any attention since the s/o is too busy dying over 2D cuteness. I think we can all relate to this tbh, I'm in love with too many 2D characters like pls send help.

Ugh this is my life on so many levels. Luckily my hubby fully supports my fangirling. He even buys me figurines and is willing to cosplay them TT__TT He is amazing. Thank you for your amazing Ask and wonderful patience! 


“____…____!” Akashi’s voice attempted to get your attention for the umpteenth time, as you scrolled through your favorite blog, enjoying the rather racy pictures an artist did of one Levi Ackerman. Oh, how you adored Attack on Titan and your self-proclaimed husband ‘Levi’.

“One minute Sei-kun!” You giggled again and went to join the forum discussion, commenting on your favorite picture and joining everyone’s friendly banter. Suddenly the air around you changed and you looked up to see a rather peeved looking Akashi.

“Sei-kun?” Your voice questioned timidly, subconsciously shrinking under his weighted gaze.

“____, I have been attempting to gain your attention for the past twenty minutes, I do not enjoy being ignored.” His voice was eerily calm and measured, but his eyes were burning with loss of patience. Holding out his hand, you realized he wanted to put your phone away so you would no longer be glued to it. With a small huff you handed it over, but not before realizing you hadn’t exited out from the racy photos…neither did Akashi. His eyes betrayed his stoic façade once more as they widened at the picture. Shoving the phone quickly down to his side, he looked at you nervously, apparently at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

“Hehehe…uhhh…” You stared up at him blankly, wondering how you were going to explain this obsession. “I have a thing for authority…” Seconds ticked by before an unsettling grin made its way to his face. He walked to your bookshelf and skimmed the titles until he found volume No. 1 of Attack on Titan. Handing you your phone back, he sat next to you, lounging back to begin reading.

“Perhaps I should see what you find so intriguing about this character.” His voice dripped with honey and a burning heat made its way to your cheeks. Was this the moment of your fangirl dreams? Was Akashi implying he would roleplay with you? With a sense of determination, you ran to your bookshelf and grabbed every volume, before dumping them haphazardly next to Akashi, who raised a brow in question.

“You have some reading to do Sei-kuuuuun.” You purred dangerously making the red head wonder who was actually in control in this relationship.


It was no secret to Aomine that you loved to read your cherished manga, just as much as he loved his gravure magazines. You often found yourselves in a heap of tangled limbs, cuddling on the rooftop during lunch hour, reading your respective reading material. But today Aomine couldn’t help but feel irked at how often you squealed and blushed at this month’s issue.

“Tch, what has you so flustered?” He leaned up from his spot in your lap, trying to get a look at the artwork.

“Oh my gosh. It’s too much! I just, Keiichi is perfect. Such a cutie and a total Dom. Like, how can this girl turn him away? He is perfect I just wann-“ Your fangirl tirade got cut short when a pair of firm lips smashed down on your own, silencing your words with a satisfied moan.

“Dom, you say? Oh ____…this is a discussion we should have had months ago.” His smirk became feral and your heart thrummed so harshly in your chest, you were sure it would leap out any minute. Watching your boyfriend grin that way felt like watching Keiichi come to life. It seemed you two were due for a discussion on some new bedroom ideas.



“What do you mean there are over 600 episodes!?” Your boyfriend stared at you in horror. He didn’t mind a lazy day in, watching your favorite series. Even suggesting he starts from the beginning so he can watch it with you. What he wasn’t ready for was how many episodes ‘catching up’ would require.

“It’s sooooo worth it Taiga-kun! Besides, once you get to episode 400ish, you get to meet my favorite character…Trafalgar Law! Ugh he is so dreamy. Just wait till you see. You will love this show!” Flames practically burned from your irises at the passion you held for your beloved fandom. All Kagami could do was swallow the building lump in his throat and nod in defeat. He could tell this wasn’t worth getting out of, he would simply have to watch every episode.

But feeling you snuggle close and murmuring all the lyrics to the opening song put a smile on his face. You really did love this show, watching the smile spread across your face was endearing to him. He supposed it would be worth watching the show in the long run, if it meant he could see that smile on your face every week a new episode aired. Wouldn’t hurt to also know how this ‘Law’ is that you constantly talk about.


“Oh my gosh they have leggings for him too!? I have to get them…” You continued to murmur while looking at the new clothing release that featured your favorite character.

“Eh, ____cchi? You seriously want more fangear? Don’t you have enough?” He looked a bit confused while putting his own phone down, raising a brow at your ever-growing pout.

“Ryo-kun…there is no such thing as ‘too much’ when referring to Uchiha Itachi. It is impossible. Besides, black and red go with everything I own.” You waved your hand dismissively. Kise sighed and peered around your room. It was covered in Itachi merchandise and he shook his head in defeat. What was one more item? You were already drowning in it anyways. Kise supposed he couldn’t be too upset, especially with the smile and giggle you let out when you pushed ‘purchase’ on your phone.


Your eyes glimmered with adoration as you watched the credits role once more, but pouting when you realized there were no longer any new episodes.

“It’s not that bad ____-san. We can take Nigou to the park and grab some lunch. There will be a new episode next Saturday.” Kuroko assured you softly, patting your head as you huffed in annoyance.

“I know but how can I wait a whole week before seeing what happens with Laxus. He is so strong, but this fight won’t be easy.” You pouted again, worry for your imaginary husband clearly written across your face.  

“At least you don’t have to worry about me every losing a battle _____-san…have you seen these guns?” Kuroko looked your way with a straight face and his small biceps flexing in front of you. It was enough to cheer you up and set aside your obsession…momentarily.


“What is this crap?” Hanamiya glared at the posters that littered your walls and his lips turned up at the plushies covering your bed. Meanwhile you were engrossed deep into a manga, nose practically buried between the pages.

“Ugh, devotion. Obviously.” You chuckled at your sarcastic response but failed to notice Makoto’s less than happy expression. He glanced around the room a bit more and though he wouldn’t voice it out loud, a small part of him was furious that there weren’t any pictures of him decorating your room. Just this blonde dude plastered everywhere. Even Hanamiya didn’t notice the rare moment of self-consciousness when he brought a hand up to his ebony locks. “Who is this loser anyways?”

“That is Tamaki! He is so romantic! I swear his way with words could swoon any girl off their feet and straight to the alter!” You gushed on and on, ignoring the darkening aura of your boyfriend.

“_____.” His voice pulled you from your rambling. “Apparently I need to make you forget about this blonde wimp and show you what it is you REALLY crave.”


“I don’t understand why you find that attractive, nanodayo.” Your favorite giant carrot complained for the millionth time as you basked in the glory that was Dio Brando. “He is absolutely insane, evil and cares for no one. Why is that appealing?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Uhh, he has muscles and besides, what’s wrong with liking a bad boy?” You questioned, eyes never leaving the manga page. Shintaro looked at you as though you had lost all sanity. The character you adored was a murderer…how could you possibly find that attractive? “Don’t worry Shin-kun, it’s just a character. No need to be so worried.” You gave him a reassuring smile that he returned, but once you looked away his eyes peered down at the manga in irritation. He vowed to himself to not let you ever meet Hanamiya or Haizaki…they might somehow steal you from him if you were into that sort of thing. Little did he know you were trying not to laugh at seeing your boyfriend have an internal debate with himself, over what…you weren’t so sure.  


Atsushi couldn’t really fault you for your obsession as he was equally in love with Food Wars. So here you were in your kitchen, trying to replicate a recipe from the show and babbling on and on about he much you adore Soma.

“Ne, _____-chin…my baking is better than Soma, just forget him.” He grunted childishly while kneading some dough for a pie you were making. You chuckled at the frown that carved its way into his features and the slow building glare he was giving the dough.

“Oh? Atsu-kun, would you be jealous if I ate Soma’s cooking?” Your eyes widened when he slammed his hands abruptly on the counter, looking up at you from under his violet fringe.

“Don’t joke like that ____-chin. I’ll crush anyone who tries to cook for you.” His brows pitched down in annoyance and his fingers dug into the flour lined counter top.

“Relax, Atsu-kun. I only want your cooking.” You smiled, touching the top of his hand in assurance, knowing that ‘cooking’ was a metaphor for something else in Murasakibara’s mind.

Knock, Knock Ch. 23: F is for Fire

Didn’t leave you hanging too long, I hope. Please keep in mind I have zero firefighting experience. And, hey, let me know what you think? Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Start from the beginning on Tumblr.

When they smelled the smoke they should have just run. They should have put on something other than their pajamas, maybe, but beyond that they should have done nothing but snatch up their phones and wallets and head for the fucking hills. They should have just reacted like any normal, scared human would.

But no. They weren’t normal. They didn’t just run away from bad stuff. They ran toward it; they tried to stop it. They were helpers.

Emma loved that about herself, and about Belle. It’s why they became friends in the first place. They were the ride or die kind.

And it appeared they were choosing die today.

Leave it to her to be cracking jokes in her head before she burns to death.

(Hey, she gets bitter when her attempts at helping don’t do a damn thing.)

“Belle! Belle, are you here?”

To be fair, when Emma and Belle had run toward the source of the smoke rather than away, they really weren’t thinking it was going to be life-threatening decision. Kind of like how she figured closet sex in an airport wouldn’t get her on the terror watch list or how she thought becoming friends with her loud next door neighbor couldn’t possibly irrevocably change her life. Oh, how the universe loved to prove her wrong.

The smoke was now so heavy that Emma couldn’t see her fingertips as they slid along the soon-to-melt retro-ass commercial carpet, her attempts to crawl down the hallway not seeming to get her anywhere close to fresh air.  

“Emma!” Belle choked out, somewhere to her left. “Stay low!”

No, Belle, I was planning on going up there where all the heavy smoke and death was.

Fuck, she needed to chill with the snark and focus on surviving.

Keep reading

From (July 2014)

I Met Ezra

It’s been over 2 months now that I met Ezra Miller. Yes, our Ezra miller. Most fangirls would take to the internet immediately and start rehashing every detail, and considering I am the owner of his fansite (the first one ever on him) you would think I would be no exception, and probably the most excited fangirl ever.

The truth is that I am still processing everything. It doesn’t seem real to me. The situation was so coincidental and random that it really made me put a new perspective on Ezra, celebrity, fan sites, and myself.

I have been making fansites for a DECADE now, and one thing I realized is that the ‘myself’ category is rarely, if ever, there in this world. The webmasters (or webmisses, which seems to be the norm), rarely ever mention themselves in their posts, except to apologize for taking a hiatus. Their ‘job’ is to write down the celebrity’s every move, new photo, new project, new appearance, new quote, new rumor. They are always in service to this person, and the payoff (at least for me) has been the excitement of seeing these new career projects and appearances transpire, competing with other fansites, collecting photos (like Pokemon, you gotta catch ‘em all), and lets face it — living vicariously through this person.

Back in 2004, there was creativity, possibility, interaction with the fans like you don’t see as much today. Today it is too easy. Before you had to go to different sites and gather pieces of code and create something unique. Today you can set up the website in 5 seconds with WordPress, slab a few photos on pre-made templates, and call it your own. I have fallen very much victim to this laziness.

In 2004, you had to research the web high and low for ‘information’ on your celeb, had to go to your CVS and scan through all the teeny-bopper magazines, heart racing at the site of your him or her, then tear the page out when no one was looking and fold it in your Dickies purse in a way which wouldn’t bend it, scan it when the computer coast was clear, and then put it up on your site and call it exclusive. Now you can find said scans all over, and photos are reblogged, tagged, untagged, downloaded, uploaded, screenshotted, and photoshopped so much that nothing can really be ‘yours’ anymore. Fansites continuously steal from each other, when the original image belongs to someone who belongs to someone who belongs to someone anyways. The fun was in the finding, the searching, the creating.

But now the celebrities themselves tweet left and right and up and down and new photos and tweets come out several times a day. They almost normalize themselves to the level where you feel like they are your true friend, yet they are still revered and put on even higher pedestals.

There is almost something odd about knowing so much truth to the people that you idolize. Some things you don’t want to know. Sometimes you don’t want to know they are human. Sometimes you do … [really? You went to Oxford, you look fab in every picture, and you everyone likes you — can you please do something wrong? (well you’re actings only sub-par, but that’s besides the point).]

It’s come to the point where I’ve started to not like some of the celebrities I used to admire. There’s nothing interesting about perfection, and there’s certainly nothing exciting about a good role model (though it’s a good excuse to add legitimacy to your fan site, instead of just having one on someone you think is cute/hot/adorable/stylish/god-like). The more human these celebs are, the more likable they are. Anna Kendrick is probably one of the most likable celeb out there, and at the same time the most relatable, open, and honest. It’s as if she’s embarrassed about her celebrity. I met her after an episode of Craig Ferguson taping in L.A. where I was in the studio audience. I saw her after the show and blurted out that I ran her fan site (also the original Anna site 😉 )She was so nice and open, and genuinely excited about it. She said I could of course take a photo with her, but the planets were aligned in the wrong way and I realized that the security guards had taken all of our electronics away before we entered the set. Instead I hugged her and then ashamedly scampered away.

With Ezra, technology cursed me once again, yet the planets still aligned. I was literally having one of the worst days of my life. I was in New York city visiting with my boyfriend from out of the country. My boyfriend was doing touristy stuff, and we had just gotten kicked out of our hostel a day early, so I decided to go on a literary drinking tour of Greenwich village. I was running late and joined the tour at the White Horse Tavern, just as the woman was rehashing the infamous Dylan Thomas drinking story, where Dylan Thomas claimed he could drink sixteen shots of Whiskey before he passed out. On the way to the next venue, I trailed behind the group and took in the hipsterish Greenwich village. As a ‘webmiss,’ I am very aesthetically oriented, and make sure not to miss any detail. Greenwich village is sensory overload, and there is so much to look at in terms of parks, pooches, fashion, storefronts, subways, cafes etc that it got a little distracting. One store front had a sign that said PUPPIES. How the hell can you not stop? I stopped, fawned for a few seconds, and then when I looked up again, my tour group was completely gone. Instead, there were mobs of tourists, hipsters, new yawkas, and everyone else. I simply looked around and realized I was in the middle of a crowded city and didn’t know what the fuck i was doing or where I was going. I called the tour group and there was an answering machine. I called the bar and they yelled at me. I called my boyfriend and then my phone died. I wandered around and went to a park to sit in the grass and cry. Just as I was walking on the grass a lady jumped out and said I wasn’t allowed to walk on the grass. I didn’t know grass was just for looking at. I just wanted to be alone and so I ignored her and walked backwards on the grass in the opposite direction. She cornered me with her other old lady friend and they started yelling about how I wasn’t allowed on the grass. “Do you own this grass?” I asked. “Yes,” they said. I leaned down and grabbed some. “It’s just grass! Now leave me alone!” Then I looked up and saw the name of the park was the same as my last name — an old German name, pretty uncommon. Had to be a sign, right? I went somewhere else to cry privately. A quiet, colorful alleyway near a cutesy Mexican restaurant seemed perfect. That’s when I saw an adorable little dog and two hipsters sitting on the side of a graffitiied wall. I did a double take and looked at one of the hipsters — he was wearing purple heart-shaped glasses and had a mass of black hair with some white wisps. I recognized him before I asked the question, shocked — “Are you Ezra Miller?” He laughed and admitted that he indeed was.

“Wow, I wasn’t stalking you — I swear!” (I actually was surprised I wasn’t!).

Then I stomped my foot when I realized…

“Dammit, my phone just ran out of batteries.”

“Well, you’d be a bad stalker then,” he laughed.

With the threat of unwanted snaps out of the way, I believe he patted to a spot next to him and his friend and encouraged me to sit down. I could have imagined this, but someway or another I was sitting down next to them and we were all chatting. I’m usually a shy person, but the one exception is when i’m around celebrities. Even though I spend so long blogging about them, I can’t stop talking about myself when I’m around them. I told Michael Cera I was in lesbian with him. That’s another story. At any rate— i’m pretty sure I even interrupted Ezra a few times to talk about myself. He asked if I was really crying before I came there and I said yes, and told him the story about how I got here.

And then I knew I needed to admit that I had a fan site about him. And to tell you the truth, I was ashamed. Because, as I said, a fan site doesn’t require work like it did back in the day. A fan site now means I drool over photos of you and write about your every move. I didn’t want to scare him away, but I knew I had to tell him, because it wasn’t fair to pretend I didn’t ‘really’ know him. I prefaced it by saying there was someone thing weird that I had to say — but it wasn’t as weird as that one guy I read about in an interview that wrote to him about collecting his hair or whatever. They said whatever it was couldn’t be worse then what they were already both thinking it could be at that point. I hesitated, took a deep breath, and was about to admit it, when, conveniently, another tour group came by with some eclectic dude playing the violin and crying. Ezra said “Hey, I think I found your tour group. I assured him that that wash’t mine. I told him I had a fan site on him and there was what seemed like a long pause. And then he said “Which one?” and I told him He laughed and said “Oh, the organization?” And I told him a little bit about the background. He and his friend were both trying to quit smoking and told me they were dying for a cigarette (not sure if the craving was a total coincidence to the timing of my revelation). I asked him what he was doing lately and whether he fired his publicist because there hadn’t been any news or photos lately and he said no he’s just been taking it easy and enjoying his time off, but things will start up again soon with Madame Bovary promotion.

When I wasn’t shaking on the inside, I did manage to pick-up a few things that Ezra actually said. He said he thinks we (the fans) idealize him, build him up to be G/d like. That we should focus our energy on something greater than him. He thinks we made him up to be something that he never really can be. He thinks we (myself included) should focus energy on the real G/d or a greater form of art — why not make a cool personal blog? he suggested.

He said I should steer the conversation towards what he’d doing, and his campaigns (like with the Arctic). He wants it to be about his art, and what he believes in, but not about himself.
He said he didn’t want it to just be about girls gawking at how ‘pretty’ he was.

In many ways I completely agree. I told him that, even having a fan site on him was better than one for, say, Miley Cyrus, because it gets “kids” to look at his interviews and watch movies with a point, that they wouldn’t otherwise.

His friend assured me that my hobby wasn’t weird — if it made me happy, I should do it. I said I guess I thought it was weird because I didn’t know anyone else in person who made fansites in real life — just online.

Another fan spotted him from a few feet away and asked for a pic and he said no. She said he liked his work. He talked about how once one person notices him, it’s like they all did. I mentioned that his glasses were off now, and he put them back on. He said other celebs do the whole hat and glasses thing.

I asked about the fan site dilemma. Did he want be to take the site off? Did he want an official fan site (hey — it was worth a try!)

“No, no. I don’t want any of that.” He said to keep the sites, but respect his privacy.

(And I swear after my little boasting rampage of a story about how we met I will really start respecting it!)

He seemed to be very vexed about the idea of celebrity, and gave a great quote from Patti Smith’s memoir by Patti Smith. The problem, he said, was that the actors always wanted the fans and the press to concentrate on their work, but the fans and press always want to concentrate on the celebrities personal life.

I may have had tears in my eyes, he instructed me to pet his friend’s dog — that the dog was nervous. “Just cause she’s getting emotional doesn’t mean you have to also,” he comforted the shaking chihuahua mix.

Fangirl moment: SO SWEET!!!!

We talked about e-cigarettes and regular cigarettes. Ezra and his friend gave up on their 30-minute break and got some cigarettes from a non-suspecting passerby. I tried to tell him not to smoke, that us fans wanted him around for a while. I TRIED. For the record, I asked if he did hard drugs too (I was a little skeptical after the frog-in-the-pocket premiere look), and he genuinely said no — he was way passed that. He offered me his watermelon and coconut juice! (I said no, I didn’t want to contaminate it).

I told him that I knew he was nice, and everyone knew and was impressed by how well-spoken he was, but I didn’t realize how generous he really was. I am still in shock by it. [Celebrity or not, he really is an amazingly, sweet, generous, human being.]

I gave him my number on a dollar bill that I had. I didn’t have a pen in my purse so I used my favorite sparkly black eye liner. For a second I hesitated to use that, but then I remembered it was EZRA MILLER, and he had ASKED ME FOR MY PHONE NUMBER! (But just in case he needed to speak through the masses and get something across in some sort of fan-copalypse).

He said everything happened for a reason and everything was connected, and that I met him for a reason.

He said that now I knew him for real. I didn’t really know him before — I had (we all had) an idealized image of who he was.

Now I do know him for real, now I do know he is human — and I can vouch that Ezra, along with his friend are some of the greatest humans you will (well…I :p) will ever meet. They offered me comfort and companionship when I really needed it. They could have been weirded out by who I was and what I did (or not hid it so well) and treated me like the sub-human that I felt like. But they treated me like equals.

I will try and value Ezra’s privacy, and do my best to keep the site focused on his work and his campaigns. If you really love Ezra, you will do the same.

Fans, and especially fan site owners — I’d really be interested in your take on all of this. Please comment. Lets bring back the creativity, the conversation, and the community that there used to be in this ‘world’. Let’s focus on the ideas, and what these celebs bring to us through their art, not just swoon over their looks (but Ezra, I don’t know if you can really stop us from doing that at all, frog-in-pocket or not 😉 )

Tayvin Oneshot - Headrush

The entire night was a blur. Shades of applause and smudges of conversation that overflowed into the next one. Lots of dancing and lots of singing along. Flashing cameras and trophies being added one by one to her arm. A crowd of people surrounding her, always a crowd of people everywhere she turned. She hardly remembers any one thing.

Except for her first award. That was always going to stick in her mind the same way she remembers how cold the room was where she got her first rejection at a recording label and what the first boy who kissed her was wearing. All these scenes were painted like masterpieces in her head, exquisite in the detail. She was all about making moments, but some of them were created so organically, no amount of planning could make them happen as beautifully as they did. Like the moment her name was called that first time.

Keep reading

Made with SoundCloud

title: I Can’t Help Falling (In Love With You)
word count: 2,594
summary: in which ronan says something when he thinks adam can’t hear him, except that adam can. 
note(s): for kieva (@alwaysemrys), because she’s an absolute gem, and also it’s her birthday!! This is unbeta’d so all mistakes (spelling or otherwise) are completely mine alone. +prompt fill for things you said when you thought i was asleep

Adam hates driving back to Henrietta when Ronan isn’t by his side. The nearly 6+ hour drive from his college campus in Washington D.C. back to the Barns in Henrietta drags on and on, heavy, quiet, seemingly endless as he gets stuck in pockets of traffic nearly every hour. He finds himself wishing for nothing more than to just be home already at least seventy-six times.

It’s getting dark by the time Adam reaches Henrietta. Before he’d gone away for college, Adam hadn’t taken the time to truly appreciate the winding driveway leading to the Barns. Now he couldn’t be more thankful, it feels like he can (finally) breathe again. Like he’d let out a breathe he didn’t know he was holding until the very moment he turned down the worn down road. He takes in the familiar autumnal colors as he drives, redgoldbrown leaves clinging to the branches of trees lining the driveway,  the cotton candy sunset sky peeking through intermittently. The fresh air rolls in through the open window, and Adam breathes—inhale, exhale, repeat—lets all the stress from the school semester so far leave through the window. He can hear the cattle lowing in the pasture, rolling green hills dotted with the outlines of their blackbrownwhite bodies. He’s home, finally home, and the drive was definitely worth it. 

Parking next to Ronan’s BMW, Adam climbs out of the driver’s seat, his bag slung over his shoulder. Gravel crunches and shifts beneath his feet as he walks towards the faded white farmhouse, skipping the porch steps leading up to the front door. He drops his bag in the breezeway, sets his shoes down beside it and wanders towards the kitchen. Ronan’s standing at the stove with his back towards the doorway, making sure whatever’s in the pan he’s using doesn’t burn. The sleeves of his deep green Henley are shoved up to his elbows, as per usual when he’s cooking. Opal sits at the counter top, absently chewing on a carrot while scribbling wildly with an assortment of colored pencils. Music plays a little too loud from a speaker beside her. The speaker isn’t plugged in.

Opal notices him first. 

Clambering down from her seat at the counter, she trips over her own hooves when running to meet Adam in the doorway. She screamsquawkmangles his name at the loudest volume possible, arms outstretched as if waiting for Adam to pick her up. Ronan turns around, a quick intake of breath the only indication that he’d been caught off guard. When he sees Adam standing there, Opal perched on his hip with her arms thrown around his neck, he visibly relaxes.

“Didn’t think to call on you way over?” Ronan sets the fire on the stove to a lower setting and wipes his hands off on a dish towel before walking over to greet Adam. He presses a kiss against Adam’s mouth, chaste, and Opal squirms to get down so that she’s not trapped between the two of them. Adam sets her down, then casts a smile in Ronan’s general direction.

“Would you have picked up if I did?” He follows Ronan back over to the stove, where he’s now adding an unnecessary amount of ginger to what looks like stirfry. Ronan hums in reply, which is neither here nor there. “Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise.“ 

Ronan shuts the stove off, moving the pan to the back burner, “Well, color me surprised then." 

Adam laughs at that, a bright sound that seems to fill the room, and reaches out to curl his hand into Ronan’s shirt, tugging him closer. Ronan wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, rests his head against his shoulder. Their bodies slot together in a way that feels safe, secure. Adam can feel Ronan’s eyelashes fluttering against his neck, they’re pressed so close together. He feels more than hears Ronan say, "Don’t stay away for so long next time, Parrish.” Then, a moment later, “I hate having to use a phone.”

Briefly, Adam recalls all the phone calls and text messages he’s received since the semester started. He thinks of every snapchat Ronan had sent, silly videos of Opal and grainy photos documenting life as it was at the Barns. “I know,” he says, his voice warm and light, an audible depiction of the happiness that crowds his chest knowing Ronan put effort into keeping him posted with the everyday goings-on of life back home, “I appreciate that you use yours anyway." 

Ronan pulls away, just barely, "You better, that thing’s a terror.” He steps away fully, turning to grab a stack of plates from the overhead cupboard to the left of the stove, “Anyway, you’re just in time for dinner." 

Adam is really glad he made it home.

After dinner, they move into the living room. Opal is laying stomach-down on the floor, a blanket lazily tossed over her back. Hercules sings his hero ballad on a TV that doesn’t have a power source. Adam and Ronan are tangled up on the couch, bodies pressed close together. Adam rests his head on Ronan’s chest, listens to the stutter of his heartbeat, leans into his touch when he traces cirlces over the expanse of his back. The movie rolls on, but he doesn’t pay it much attention. Rather, he closes his eyes and lets himself doze. 

When the movie ends, Ronan shuts the TV off and herds both Adam and Opal up the stairs. They tuck Opal in and both make sure to press kisses to her forehead before leaving the room. 

"How come you came back?” Ronan asks, when they"re lying in bed, facing each other. When Adam is silent for a beat too long, he adds, “Don’t get me wrong, I like that you’re home, but aren’t you supposed to have class?”

“I missed you guys, class was cancelled this afternoon, and my next lecture isn’t until Monday. Made sense to come back for a while." 

Ronan wasn’t going to complain about Adam being home.

When Adam wakes up, everything is groggy and disoriented. He isn’t aware of much beyond the fact that it is still very dark out, he is still very tired, and Ronan is still not asleep. In fact, Ronan is talking, to Adam it would seem. Which didn’t make a lot of sense to Adam himself, as he was sure he had been sleeping just a few moments ago, until he registered what Ronan was saying. It starts with

"I love you, and I know that I don’t tell you that enough,” His voice is soft, as if to keep from waking Adam up. Adam lays very still, trying to keep his breathing the same as it would have been had he still been asleep. He wants to know what Ronan is on about, and is fairly certain that if he were to let Ronan know he’s awake, it would cause him to stop talking all together, “But I do. I love you, and that scares me. 

"Not a lot of things scare me anymore, but the thought of loving you does. Not because you’re hard to love, Adam, but because loving you comes too easy.” Ronan pauses, sighs. He brushes the hair away from Adam’s face, causing Adam’s heart to jackrabbit against his ribcage. Ronan never says these sorts of things outloud, has always been the kind of person to show instead of tell, for as long as Adam has known him. Adam wonders if this sort of conversarion has happened before, in similar fashion. 

“I am so sure of you, and that’s dangerous. Or at least, Declan says it is. He says being sure of anyone is dangerous, because you never really know what version of a person you’re being sure of.

"But this is you, Adam. You.” Ronan’s hand comes to rest, gently, on Adam’s jaw. His thumb traces lazy half circles on his cheek. “And I’m so overwhelmingly sure of you. So sure that I want to marry you, some day. If you’ll have me.”

Adam wants to say of course. Of course he’ll have Ronan, through the good and the bad and the bitter anger. He doesn’t have to, but Adam chooses Ronan every day. He has for the past six months. He wants to tell Ronan of course, so he does. Blinking slowly, Adam shifts farther into Ronan’s touch before saying, “Of course I’ll have you, Ro. It’s always been you." 

Ronan doesn’t look surprised at all, but he still asks, "How long have you been awake?" 

"Hm, Long enough.” Adam says, “And I mean it, too. I’ll have you.”

“Yeah?” The smile on Ronan’s face is soft, warm. Adam’s chest feels flooded with love. 

“Yeah.” Adam smiles back, equally soft, equally warm, equally endearing.

And that’s enough for now. Ronan pulls Adam closer, kissing him even though the fact that they’re both smiling makes it awkward. When they settle back in to catch a few more hours of sleep before Opal wakes up, Adam whispers, “Hey, Ro?”

Ronan hums, his eyes still closed.

“I’m sure of you, too.”

When Adam wakes up again, later in the morning, Ronan’s side of the bed is empty. He scrubs a hand over his face to get rid of the last dredges of sleep, taking in the smell of coffee that drifted up from the kitchen. 

The hardwood floor is cold against his feet when he wanders downstairs, sockless, into the kitchen. Ronan is standing by the stove again, a growing tower of French toast sat on the counter beside him. Chainsaw perches on the sill of the open window above the sink, preening. 

“Morning,” Adam says, voice still a little scratchy from sleep. Ronan looks up from the stove, smiles at him over his shoulder.

“Good morning.” Ronan drops another slice of French toast into the pan.

Adam wanders over to him, wraps his arms around Ronan’s waist and hooks his head over Ronan’s shoulder. “How long have you been up?”

“Since sunrise, to take care of the animals.” He flips the slice of toast over, the pan hissing when it comes in contact with the egg batter. 

“Why didn’t you wake me? I would’ve helped." 

"I already woke you up once this morning, Parrish,” Ronan states, turning down the heat on the stove just barely, “Besides, you need all the beauty sleep you can get." 

The sound Adam makes can only be described as an indignant squawk,  and it causes Ronan to laugh, his shoulders shaking. 

After Ronan finishes cooking breakfast, they carry full plates and mugs of coffee out onto the back porch, settling down on the wicker swing. Opal romps around in the grass, chasing after Chainsaw, who’s flying back and forth nearly three feet above her. 

"I can’t tell you enough how much I’ve missed your cooking.” Adam says, cutting his slices of French toast into even squares before dowsing them in maple syrup. He chews three squares at a time, watching as Opal trips over her own hooves, toppling onto the ground. She sits up, quickly glancing over to them as if to check if they’d seen. (They had.) 

“It’s just French toast, Adam.” Ronan balances his plate against his knee, grabs his coffee mug from the ground and takes a swig. 

“I know. But it’s so much better than dining hall food." 

"Well, obviously.” Then, Ronan directs his attention to Opal, who is laughing, delighted, while still trying to grab Chainsaw. “Hey, brat, come eat. You food is getting cold." 

Opal gallops over, wedging herself between Adam and Ronan with her plate in her lap. Adam smiles at the whole of them, his chest feeling too small to hold how happy and content and in love with it all he is.  For the rest of breakfast, they talk and laugh and revel in the calm that’s settled over them all. It’s nice. 

Adam has to drive back to Washington D.C. the next day. His car is once again packed with the things he’d brought with him, in addition to a collection of drawings from Opal that he was instructed to hang in his dorm room. He shuts his trunk a little more roughly than necessary, turns to look at Ronan and Opal who are standing a few feet away. 

Ronan asks, "Will you call later? When you get back to school?” but it sounds like, “Let me know when you’re safe." 

"Will you pick up if I do?" 

"If not me, than Opal, probably. She always does.” Which is true. Opal’s voice is almost always the first one Adam hears when he calls.

Adam steps into Ronan’s space, tugging him into a hug. Ronan wraps his arms around Adam, holds him tight and hides his face in the curve of Adam’s neck. 

“Adam?” Ronan’s voice is soft when he speak, careful. It reminds Adam of that first night so many months ago, reminds him of the night sky and dreamt up fireflies. 


"Marry me?” Adam’s heart stutters, his mind leaping back to the early hours of the morning again, leaping back to Ronan laying his heart bare, leaping to how sure he was of Ronan, too.

Adam says, “Will I get a ring?” and it sounds like, “Of course.” It sounds like, “I’m sure of you.” It sounds like, “Yes.”

Ronan smiles, his laughter fanning out over Adam’s neck. “I’ll dream you one, if you want. The best there ever was.”

Adam almost says, I don’t need the best, I just need you, but he settles for, “You’re such a sap,” instead.

When Adam kneels down to hug Opal, she all but launches herself at him, sniffling unhappily into his shoulder. Adam smooths her hair down, pulls away enough to be able to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll only be gone a few weeks.” He says, gentle, swiping a stray tear away from her cheek, “You’ll hardly even notice.”  She nods, still frowning, and goes to hide behind Ronan.

Adam stands, kisses Ronan one last time before climbing into the driver’s seat. Opal waves at him as he drives away, only stopping when the road curves, and he drifts around the corner. 

The drive back to his campus is essentially the same as the drive to Henriettalong, uneventful, full of traffic. He sighs when he lets himself into his dorm room, eyeing the stack of textbooks and homework papers he neglected in favor of driving home for the weekend. He sets to work emptying the bag he’d brought with him, stopping when he reaches a folded up hoodie that is decidedly not his. He brings the faded black fabric up to his nose, breathing in the smell of Ronan and the Barn—Of home. He picks up his phone, dials Ronan’s number. It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

Voicemail. “I’m back. Traffic was awful, as always. Thanks for the hoodie.” Then, a beat later, “I miss you. Call me back, or have Opal call me. I love you guys.” He hangs up.

Adam moves to sit at his desk, flipping open the topmost textbook in order to start on his assignments. Ten minutes later, his phone buzzes. 

(1) New Message 

From: Love❤︎

For you. 

[Image attached] 

Swiping open his phone, Adam checks the message. It’s a closeup of a ring, thick silver band engraved with dark swirls like ivy vines. Adam’s heart swells. Quickly, he types out a reply before turning back to his homework assignment;

To: Love❤︎ 

It’s official, then. I love you.

From: Love❤︎ 

I love you too.

Thanks so much umadatalien! I’ve been working on a Josh drawing actually, so I took a few screenshots while I drew :) I hope this helps!

For anyone else reading this, I’m using Manga Studio 5 (digital download version is called Clip Studio Paint, which is why my app is called that as you’ll see in the screenshots).

I based my drawing off a photo of Josh, so first off I started with a loose sketch, to try to nail the basic shapes/gesture.

However, as you can see, my draftsmanship skills are waaaay off… I’m not one of those people who can draw things perfectly just from sight, unfortunately! Oops.
It’s not terrible, though. In fact, I kind of like the exaggerated length of his arms/legs, so I’m not going to throw the sketch out completely. I might make a few changes, though.

I don’t always do this, but for this drawing, after my initial sketch, I traced over the photo on another layer. I traced it pretty loosely - the idea was to get a sense of the shapes/forms, and pick up any details I might not have noticed. 
For example, I didn’t notice that Josh is wearing a longer black shirt under his white t-shirt - so that’s something I’ll definitely have to add in!!

Oof. Huge difference between initial sketch and traced sketch. Not necessarily a bad thing though!
It’s always interesting to see the difference between how your eyes perceive things, versus how they actually are, though. Apparently my eyes think everyone and everything is anime as hell.

Revised sketch in the middle! I took elements that I liked from both the initial sketch and the traced sketch, and combined them to make the middle sketch. 
So I’m keeping the basic shape of the initial sketch, but using things I learned from the trace to make the sketch better. 
Tracing is useful as a tool to improve sketches and help pick up details, but be wary of just using traces for artworks. It can be perceived as lazy. Unless a deliberate rotoscope-like effect is what you’re aiming for, of course!

Final composition. I got the iron filings background off Google; the image is grainy since I had to resize it, so I’ll be redoing it in Illustrator once I’m done. (P.S. I actually flipped it some time after taking this screenshot, bc I decided I wanted Josh facing the right - I’m doing a version with Tyler as well, and when I put them side-by-side I want them facing each other. Josh is always on the left, so he has to face right!)

Lineart time! I lowered the opacity of the sketch layer to about 14%-17%, made a new layer on top, and used my slightly modified version of the G-pen to draw the lineart. (You can do the same thing with the normal G-pen, though. This is just a slightly personalised version.)
Lineart is always the longest and most tedious step for me. It usually involves a lot of hitting command-z, a lot of redrawing the same line over and over, and copious amounts of swearing :) if there’s an easy, stress-free way of drawing lineart, I haven’t found it yet!!

Even with the stabiliser set to the second-highest setting to avoid shakiness, it’s still really hard to make a line exactly how I want it. So many other factors like angle, line weight, length etc all come into play, and I really struggle with getting my hands steady enough to co-operate. A lot of artists I know also struggle with lineart, so I think it might just be one of those things that are always going to be annoying and hard and tedious!!

It’s a nice process when you get into a rhythm, though. I like it when I get really focused on it, so I stop thinking about anything else. It can be really therapeutic - when it’s not being frustrating!

Lineart complete!

Flats! For flats, I use the Magic Wand tool to select areas of the same colour. My Magic Wand is set to expand the selection area by 3 pixels, so a bigger area than the actual space is selected. Then I fill them in with that colour on a layer UNDERNEATH the lineart.
Expanding the selection area (and so the area of colour) allows the lineart to overlap the colour slightly, so you don’t end up with white edges. 

I try to keep each colour on a separate layer. 

Shading time! (here’s where I flipped the image haha). 

I made a new layer on top of the flat skin-colour layer, then clipped it to the skin-colour layer. This means that anything I paint outside the skin-colour layer’s area becomes invisible, so I can paint freely without worrying about staying inside the lines. Which is super handy! (I was never a colour-inside-the-lines kind of kid. I’m way too lazy for that.)
I used the G-pen to colour the slightly darker orangey skin-tone, and the bluish-grey shade (both on separate clipped layers). Hence the hard edges on those shades.
Then above those layers, I painted on the pinks and white/yellow highlights with the Watercolour tool, so those colours were nice and soft.

The crosshatching is actually a dark blue colour, lighter than the scarf. It’s set on top of all the colours. I set the layer mode to Colour Burn, which causes it to interact with the colours below it in fun ways, creating those super saturated reds and pinks. 

I painted the jeans/scarf/boots with a lighter blue colour using the Watercolour tool.

Then I created highlights with the G-pen set to a low opacity, layering up the lighter colour.

I used the same technique for the shirt and jacket, except I started with a light base colour and shaded it with a darker blue. Right at the end, I highlighted the shirt+jacket with white using the Watercolour tool, just to brighten it a bit.

I painted the hair using the G-pen, using a bright red for highlights, and darker pinkish-red for shades. Both on separate layers above the base hair colour, remember!

For more highlights, I painted pink strokes on a layer above the hair shading (technically a desaturated light red - as you can see on the colour wheel in the screenshot, hopefully!!), then set the layer mode to Glow Dodge, which creates that extra highlighting effect.

Once all the shading was done, I locked the transparency of the lineart layers, and then coloured the lineart - so dark reddish-purple for the hair, dark blue for the white clothes, and VERY dark blue for the black clothes!
I don’t do that for all my drawings - I actually like it when the colour scheme is cohesive enough that I can use one colour for all the lines.
But with tøp fanart, I like to leave the lines a dark colour (usually blue-black), and colour the lineart surrounding red objects, like Josh’s hair or Tyler’s socks. Dark red lines usually look better with red objects than dark blue.

In this screenshot you can see I gave him red eyeshadow - that was added in after everything else was done. I just did that on a new layer (clipped to the skin tone layer above all the other shading layers) with the Watercolour tool!

And with that, I think Josh is done! Or Dun. Dammit. Now I just need to draw Tyler *weeps quietly*

I hope that helps! I think a couple of people have actually asked for a tutorial/process-record now, so I hope this is okay! :)

Usually I take these Tumblr selfies 3.2 thousand times before liking one, but meh, here I am! 

In a photo and on Tumblr. 

With a solid zit on my face, but that’s neither here nor there. 

What’s here is that I just used my Fitbit for the first time today and holy moly, it’s so cool.   My brother-in-law was traveling for a few days, and as I helped out a lot with Lily for a few days, he asked me what I wanted as a gift to say thank you, and I chose a Fitbit.   I can totally see how they get addictive.  Do you have Fitbit? Should we be friends? I haven’t quite figured out how to “compete” yet, but definitely want to join some walking competitions. 

Christmas is in full swing, despite not feeling that Christmasy yet.  I’ve had so many people over to my Christmas-blinged-out apartment lately, that it’s hard to keep track.  Tomorrow I have about 15 people coming over for a shingdig, so yea…  lots to do for that. 

In other news I have been power organizing lately. I mean seriously containers-label-making-giving-away-throwing-out organizing. It’s refreshing, and has made me feel a lot better about life in general.  Also what’s made me feel better, getting a vacuum cleaner for my 31st birthday. My apartment is all wood so I’ve always swept, swiffered, and mopped, but the vacuum cleaner has changed my life (especially as I have radiators), and I am loving my apartment these days. 

Every drawer and cupboard in my apartment is organized now, and in easy-to-find labelled containers. Heaven!

(This photo is not staged at all, which is lucky because you can see my sweet sweet new vacuum cleaner bottom left). 

Technically I’m off work right now until the New Year, but I have a fair bit to do at work, so I think I may go into the office this week - y’know, to get ahead and start the New Year on top of things.  Work has been good - lots of festivities with birthdays and Christmas and we had a *huge* presentation last Monday in an effort to raise money, and WAHOO *first pump,* we did. Which is especially awesome knowing that going into the Christmas break.  We also did a gingerbread house competition at work and my team… NAILED IT. 

Or Christmas party had a magical spread. Cue the song, “So this is heaven”

And a magical Christmas in the city view. 

I have a date next Wednesday. With a guy that I am looking forward to meeting. But we’re totally at the we’ve-spoken-too-much-pre-meeting-and-now-have-expectations thing. Ugh.  Not too sure yet what we’re going to do, perhaps the Toronto Christmas market. Or ice-skating.  Amazingly, I’m not too nervous… yet.

Every part of my body hates online dating and every night I battle with myself not to just delete it all. But…  I have become convinced that online dating is a numbers game, and the time and effort needs to be put in to get anywhere. Right now I’m on (are ya ready?!): Bumble, Tinder, OKCupid, EHarmony.  Yup. That’s a lot of profiles and a lot of men and a lot of time.  So far OkCupid (which is free) has been the best one. Tinder is snappy (which I like), Eharmony sucks, and Bumble (like Tinder, but girls message first) I am convinced it’s filled with fake profiles. The guys on it all look like models, and then at my last Project Sunshine meeting guy friends said the same of girls. 

Speaking of Project Sunshine, we had our last 2015 meeting last Monday. I’m on the “Young Patrons Circle” area of Projects Sunshine, which is young professionals trying to raise money for the charity, but for this meeting head office was there, and they want to shake things up by asking that each member raise $1,000 over the year. Umm, yea. This didn’t sit that well for me, as last year I was the Co-Chair, and holy batman ballz, it was SO time consuming, so then to raise money to be on the committee, well yea… Anwyho, I voiced my concerns quite boldly, and seemed to get a lot of support, but it’s still up in limbo the structure for next year. When everyone went for drinks after the meeting, they cheered to me which made me happy, and then someone also mentioned I should be the Director next year, which I think I just may… we shall see. 

Project Sunshine also gave me this Christmas gift, which I absolutely love: 

Oh, before I forget *pats self on back* for Christmas gift tags this year I made ornaments for friends. 

They were a stupid amount of work, but I’m happy with how they came out, and they seem to be a hit. Here’s the one my sister made me: 

I saw the Phantom of the Opera on Thursday. *slow bloody clap*  I had never seen it before and actually didn’t even know the story, but bravo. Truthfully I am a ballet > theatre type of girl. (True story, I cried during Swan Lake when she died, because the dancing was just that beautiful.) But the Phantom was fantastic - the set, the quadruple threats - acting, opera, singing, and acting, I just can’t even, it was SO good.  

What else?  Christmas, work, apartment, dating, organizing, project sunshine.  I feel like I’ve covered nearly everything. Except, oh weight (NEVER GETS OLD)… Weight. 

Weight Watchers changed their program. Hmm. HMM. I’m trying, I really am, but it’s sooooo much harder on this new system.  What I always thought was *wonderful* about WW was that it allowed you to still live your life. Don’t mind if I do grab a 3 point chocolate popsicle, but now that popsicle is 7 - 9pts, which is a HUGE chunk when you get 28.  Hmm. HMMM. My weight is still hovering within the same three or four pounds. But let’s be honest: I’m also half assing it. 

OHHHHHH! Guess what! I signed up for a 12 week bootcamp starting January 5th. It’s for beginners, and nothing too dramatic, and for woman only. It’s twice a week on Tuesday and Thursday, and I think it’s exactly what I need. 

Also, I signed up for the Harry Spring  5 miler (8k) on Saturday April 9, 2016. A RACE YOU GUYS!! I think 8km goal is a nice one for me, as I’m SOOOO unfit right now, so it allows me to start small. 

And, this is exciting, there is a very strong chance I will actually be doing that hike I spoke about in my previous post, the Tour du Mont Blanc hike. So you can just colour me excited for that. 

I’m sure I’m missing lots of things, as life has been busy and crazy and wonderful and lazy, but I feel like I’ve noted it all. Happy Festive Sunday my friends. 


Here is my secret - will you discriminate?

I’ve never written about this before but I am going to say it on my blog and on social media for the first time, and I’m not going to be ashamed about it either. Ready, set, go! Along with ADHD, I have depression. I’ve battled it on and off for most my life and I’ll tell you that it’s not easy but it’s not impossible either. I’m not some feeble victim. I don’t need to be institutionalized, and if I was, there’s nothing wrong with that either. 

 Mental illness is ACTUALLY a thing. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for those of you that live in a perfect world and deny that mental illness exists or that it is a real illness. However, The Anxiety and Depression Association of America’s facts & statistics state that Major Depressive Disorder affects approximately 14.8 million American adults, or about 6.7 percent of the U.S. population age 18 and older in a given year. So, I can guarantee that you are one of them or that you know a handful of those individuals. Perhaps you’re suffering in silence or maybe its well known; undiagnosed, untreated or maybe the opposite. Regardless, many of us are juggling a mental illness along with our busy day to day lives. And, that’s the thing. 

We’re coping with it and going about life, trying to do the best we can - just like everybody else. There’s really no difference other than a chemical imbalance. It certainly doesn’t make us less capable of being contributing members of society. I actually believe quite the contrary. People with mental illness are quite bright and extremely creative. Those of us ADHDer’s are extremely creative, inventive and are amazingly successful when it comes to multitasking. 

 Sure, there are many arguments out there that ADHD doesn’t exist and that we’re just lazy scatter brains. To those, I will put this most eloquently as possible; go scratch. 

 And as for my ADHD’s best pal Depression - that exists too. We’re not just sad. Like I’ve stated before, it’s a chemical imbalance and only those that are uneducated and ignorant aren’t aware of that or don’t want to believe it because they’re intimidated by the unfamiliar. 

 I’ve decided to say this now because this is the second time in my life that I’m being publicly shamed by a large organization for having depression. 

 Upon arriving in Italy, yes, it was beautiful and picturesque. Maybe you even liked a few of the photos I posted on Facebook and instagram. But a picture can only tell so much. It’s been difficult. It’s been difficult because obtaining my medicine in Italy has been nearly impossible. I’m not allowed to have it shipped over, and so, I have to see doctors here. Having to do that means I had to expose myself to my school in Italy, ALMA. I had to jump hurdles to get someone to comprehend what I was saying, not only because of the language barrier but because of the lack of education on this matter. That being said, I had to speak with a number of people before actually taking steps towards getting things I needed. Pretty much every one of the faculty and staff members are aware of my condition, as well as most of my classmates. Why my classmates? Because the school wouldn’t allow me to schedule my own appointments, nor would they support my request to schedule doctor visits on the same day… instead, they made me miss many classes due to a lack of their organization and thoughtlessness. It was difficult and it definitely hurt my stride in terms of passion in the kitchen but I shrugged it off and did the best I could anyway. I ended things in school with a smile on my face and good grades behind it. 

 But now things have gone too far. I’ve recently been told that because I have depression… I’m not fit for a work environment. This was said by one of those extremely educated and supportive gems back at ALMA. Stunned. I am beyond shocked.. Not only am I disgusted and offended, but I’m so disappointed that an educational institution would believe that and furthermore, go so far as to say such a thing to one of their own students - International students at that. International students of whom are supposed to act as ambassadors when we leave. Ha! 

 The last time a large organization did this (to me) I filed a lawsuit and then dropped it in order to maintain my peace as I was about to set off on a 3 month journey across the world in hopes of spreading kindness through volunteerism. But a second time? I’m not dropping it, and that’s why I’ve decided to say something on my blog. It isn’t right, nor is it legal on US soil, to make such a discriminatory offense like that. It is in no way okay and if anyone has ever done that to you then please know that I’m with you, I stand behind you. 

 People battle, juggle, cope with, whatever you want to say - people live with mental illness every day. It isn’t easy but we should never be shamed for it, discriminated against because of it, and we should never ever be thought less of a person for that reason. Call me a bitch; tell me that my smile is crooked or I am a pain in the ass; tell me that I’m ugly or that you hate my soul. But don’t you dare ever try to make me, or anyone else with a mental illness, feel ashamed for it. I will not feel ashamed because I know better but that doesn’t make it right. Just because I have a good attitude, am informed and because I am strong doesn’t make it okay to make judgmental and discriminatory remarks like that. It will never be okay. 

 So if you’ve been diagnosed with some sort of mental illness, wave that flag high and to hell with the ignorant assholes out there that think something is wrong with you. I think you’re rad and I’m sure you know it too. If you think you’re suffering from depression, anxiety disorder or something else and curious about getting a better handle on it - reach out. There are tons of organizations, doctors and groups that diagnose, treat and monitor those battling mental illness and you shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed to use those tools and lifelines to your advantage. Just do it. You’ll be happy you did. If you have any questions about my diagnosis or my experiences - again, reach out. I’m happy to share, as I am no longer ashamed to say I have depression. Wow, I just said it again! Big night for me over here. Ha. But, in all seriousness, I’ve lost a friend to suicide. Never do I take mental illness lightly and if you want help in finding the right help for you then I’ve got your back. 

 If you would like to donate and help the mission to one day live in a world without suicide; then go ahead and donate to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (link below) in remembrance of my friend Kati who never got the help that I was lucky enough to receive. If you can’t do so at this time and want to show support and that you’re not down with discrimination then please comment with the hashtag #willnotbeshamed 

 I’ll leave you with a quote that my mother, the notorious Lynn Fuschillo, shared with me: “Injustice everywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” -Martin Luther king