When I am four,
for the first time in the school bathroom
I grew up too fast.
I learned about what a human body can do,
what we’re capable of.
And I think and I wonder how she knew,
Children mimic what they see,
and as they see they do.
And I’ve grown to think that this is what children do.
She’s just a child, we’re just children
playing with blocks and getting paint on our smocks,
eating cookies
not stealing them carelessly and scarring young children.
Not having their cake
and eating it too
when it was never meant for you.

I’m six years old
and I’m in my grandmother’s house
and this is where I learned hell for the first time.
l close my eyes and grit my teeth,
but I keep quiet and don’t tell anybody
because I think that’s what good little girls do.
Why didn’t it scar you
and how can you look me in the face?
as though you didn’t gut me like a fish and spit me back out.
You give me panic attacks and crying spells,
and I’m your little stupid bitch that never tells,
because I’m terrified if anyone sees
that they will see just how UGLY
you made me.

AND THIS YEAR I finally admit it out loud.
The social worker asks me why I didn’t confront you about it,
as though it’s as simple as asking someone the time,
as though it’s as simple to look the devil in the eye
and ask why they ripped your nonexistent innocence away.
AND THIS YEAR I’m tripping in the streets, drunk and crying about what you did to me.
And my best friend is holding me up,
telling me it’s okay
and that I didn’t ask for it,
I asked for it, didn’t I?
Sharing my fears,
google search: how to be untaught that you’re only good for one thing.
AND THIS YEAR I wish I could say recovery had me under it’s wings,
that it didn’t hurt anymore,
but I still can’t look at myself in the mirror sometimes,
I still feel the ghost of your hands,
I still can’t love myself when you took that part of me with you.

anonymous asked:

The Italy brothers, Spain, Austria and Prussia come back home to see a mess a friend made trying to make a cake for them, how do they react? (I love all the cool imagines you do btw)

North Italy: He’d be super happy, and he’d probably be even more delighted by the mess, strangely enough. The chaos would show just how hard his friend had tried, and he’d love that!

South Italy: It’s the thought that counts, especially for him. He’d be touched by the caring gesture, and wouldn’t really care about the mess - as long as he wouldn’t have to clean it up.

Spain: He’d truly appreciate his friend’s attempt, even despite the mess. He’d help them clean up, and then suggest going out to a nice cafe and eating a cake together there! He’d pay!

Prussia: Truly moved by his friend trying to do something nice for him, Prussia would return the favour by letting them help him clean up! He just really likes cleaning up.

Austria: He’d seem unimpressed, especially when offering to show his friend how to make a cake properly and then doing so no matter their response, but inside he’d be pleased.

anonymous asked:

You know what's easier than running this blog? Just putting down the cake. Why run this blog when you can run your calories off fatty?

Mmm, okay.

First of all, there are multiple fatties running this blog, and we look fabulous doing it, thanks.

Second, and I shouldn’t have to say this but apparently it’s necessary, not eating one slice of cake won’t magically make someone skinny. I know, I know, shocking, right? But that’s not how it works. And in fact, running a bit won’t magically make someone skinny either! Amazing! *end sarcasm*

Third, and this should be obvious, even if we did become skinny, it wouldn’t do anything to help other people who aren’t. Like. This blog isn’t about us. It’s about all fat people everywhere. And those fat people are facing bullying and discrimination every day for their size. And it hurts. Ok? Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be bullied all the time? Even if I lost weight, so what? Others would still be being bullied. The point of this blog is to fight for a world where bullying and discrimination doesn’t happen to anyone based on size. That’s much more important than us being thin.

I mean I could make a lot more points, like how difficult weight loss can be to maintain, but honestly I’m already bored of you. Btw, I saw all that other anon hate telling us to go die or whatever. I know it was probably you so I’m going to block your IP address later so we don’t have to hear your bullshit again. Sorry if you were looking for a fight or to upset us or whatever; it’s not going to work. I have more exciting things to do than to care about you, like dusting and taking out the trash.

-Mod Bella

anonymous asked:

How much Chinese heritage do you think that Modern!Jem upholds? If you think that Jem and Tessa have kids, do you think that Jem wants to pass on any specific bits of his heritage?

Five Headcanons

He picks up old traditions from his family when he was growing up and carries them forward to his own children but they’re often little things like breakfast food or bedtime rituals. 

Jem’s relationship with is culture isn’t performative. It’s deeply personal and mixed together. He had jiaozi for breakfast but his father had British style afternoon tea with scones. He would eat moon cake in the fall but rarely went to the festival. 

He loves the idea of going to Shanghai with his kids and taking them to places he remembers - or at least the sites of the places where he had played when he was little.

In a lot of ways sharing his heritage is a very personal thing. Here are stories of my mother. Here are the weapons that my uncles fought with. Here is the street where I grew up. Here is a riddle I remember. It’s less: “Here is a Chinese thing,” and more “Here is a piece of our family history which carries pieces of Chinese culture in it.” 

He speaks to his kids in Chinese quite a bit and wants the language to be something that they can share. He starts relearning his characters with them and relearning how to write is very important to him. 

Each of his children have a Chinese name. 

@ everyone else with shitty dads: i know fathers day is all over the damn place right now but may i suggest drawing an abstract depiction of how your half-DNA-provider makes u feel, then placing it in a red chalk pentagram, dousing it in salt and setting it on fire with a yankee candle. then go buy urself a celebratory cake and eat it by urself because ur a better person than that sad sack of shit is ever gonna be. happy fathers day