happy thirteen years old

Happiness is.....

Six year old: Having picnic with family on sundays…….

Thirteen year old: Playing favourite video game with friends…watching anime…

Twenty year old: Inhaling gay fanfics, doujinshis….drowning in otps….

Dear Future Me Reading This,

You are gay. Nope, I don’t want to hear any objections, you’re going to shut up and listen.

Remember when you were about nine and used to have all of these characters that you’d put in different scenarios in your head? You would pair all the girls together with the boys because that’s what you thought was the only option. Then, when you discovered that girls could love and kiss other girls. You went through all of your characters with boring, heterosexual relationships, and paired the girls together. I know specifically that the main girl (the one that was your self-insert) would always have the greatest girlfriend and all the boys she used to date before you knew about gays would be so baffled.

I know you thought later that the only reason you did this was because your older sibling is bisexual, and you were just trying to be cool like them, but that’s not it. You have had two boy “crushes” in your short life. One was of the most popular and sought after boy in the first grade, because everyone else had a crush on him, and one was the least repulsive boy you could think of.

I can name about three girls who you have had major, heart aching crushes on: Y, L, and S. When you had that big performance, everyone congratulated you on it, but you didn’t really acknowledge the compliments until Y did, which left you speechless, your heart pounding because she had noticed you! When you were at a sleepover with L, you stayed up all night thinking about how she was so pretty, you wanted to bury your face in her hair and kiss her until the sun rose. And when S confided in you that she was pan, your heart soared and you couldn’t believe it, because she’s the only other person your age you’ve met who’s in anyway lgbt. You’ve spent days thinking about all three. Not to mention that pretty girls continue to shock you every day as you marvel at their beauty.

Don’t kid yourself, you love girls. You know you want to go on cute dates with them, kiss them, and maybe eventually marry them and have a house with a big yard and dogs, cats, and birds everywhere. You could care less about boys, and you know it.

I know you think you’re just trying to be cool and hip like everyone else, but that’s not what that is. I guarantee it. Because the mere concept of being with a girl all those times when you where nine excited you so much that it was all you could think about. On some level, you knew that you were gay, but it took you three years to even come to that conclusion without running for the figurative hills.

You aren’t too young, you aren’t just trying to be cool. Think of it this way, if you honestly thought you were straight, you wouldn’t have followed this blog. You wouldn’t have scrolled through 600 pages of that one lgbt blog when you were figuring things out, and you wouldn’t have followed all those gay youtubers. You wouldn’t get so excited when you were reading a book and came across canon lesbians, or actively seek out books and media like that. If you didn’t know you where gay, you wouldn’t have spent all those hours trying to prove to yourself that you are faking and you definitely, wholeheartedly, would not have taken the time to write this message, or to find it and read it again. 

So stop your doubts, and start loving yourself, because you are gay and you are beautiful. If you don’t want to date a guy, you don’t have to. If you want to marry an amazing woman, do it, and trust me, you will be so so happy that you wont even have to think about it.

Sincerely,

Thirteen-year-old you.

Father's Day

I was thirteen years old when I watched my father die.

He was laying on the couch with his eyes closed.

I opened all the windows to let in the breeze.

I put Jiffy Pop on the stove because he liked the smell.

I played his wedding song to take him back to another time.

I knelt beside him,

And though I knew he couldn’t hear me,

I spoke to him.

I told him I’d be strong for him,

And take care of my mama.

And I told him

‘You’ll always be in my thoughts.

Forever and for always.’

I expected more blood when I slid the knife into his throat.

A theatric beginning to a gurgling end,

But it spilled slow and pooled steady;

Lazy like a Sunday in June.

okay but leaving comments on people’s work is so important and i mean positive comments and constructive criticism, not that negative bullshit. 

the reason why i’m saying this is because i’ve been looking at the very first fan fic that i put out and finished. it was terrible, had so many mistakes, bad writing and it was a mess but i finished it. why? because i received so many wonderful and encouraging comments from readers and that kept me going. that gave me the motivation and inspiration that i needed to continue writing. it also brought this big grin to my face and made me feel so happy because thirteen year old me was doing something that she loved and people were encouraging her to keep on doing it. 

when a comment on left on our works, it gives us the feeling that we’re just writing to an empty crowd. that we’re not showing our art to an empty room. those comments that i received at thirteen kept me writing and with that, i improved and became the writer that i am today. there’s always room for improvement but wow, i’m so much better at nineteen than i was at thirteen. and i’m so thankful to those people who cheered me on, even if my writing back then was so horrible!

so that’s why comments and feedback are so important because it gives us the motivation to keep on creating. i know there are many people who say that you should create for yourself and that’s true but there will always be the feeling of wanting to know if your work is good and if you should keep on working, if it’s worth it. 

it doesn’t take anything to leave a comment on someone’s work, even if it’s a ‘that’s great!’ or a long essay about what you loved about it and how it made you feel. trust me, it makes an author’s day and gives them that little boost of energy to write a little more. 

so the next time you read something, drop a comment and throw a kudo in there too. 

it makes a whole lot of difference. 

You know, when you think about it, as badass as they usually come off, the Thunder Legion/Raijinshuu are all humongous dorks. Like. Wow.

I was just thinking how I’d love to see fanart of them all six/thirteen years ago (like, when Happy was born). 17-yr-old Laxus with 16-yr-old Bixlow and 14-yr-old Fried and Evergreen following him around.

Then I realized just how hilarious they would all be. Imagine it.

Instead of her striking figure, Evergreen’s this tweenage girl only just starting to fill out, with bigger/thicker glasses than she has now, running around insisting she’s an actual fairy, dammit.

Fried’s got shorter/less tame hair, wearing oversized clothes and going on about CHIVALRY!! and occasionally lecturing people. Of course, you have to imagine he was also a super studious kid given how he is now.

Do I need to mention Bixlow? The guy still looks pretty ridiculous today. Imagine him less tall/buff/strong still trying to pull off the whole eccentric knight thing.

FAIRY TAIL HEADCANON:

Laxus is actually a huge closet nerd himself, and the Thunder Legion started out as his DnD group.

Thirteen-year-old me is lying awake at midnight.
She feels sick to her stomach in a way she hasn’t since her first day of secondary school,
In a way she won’t feel again until she asks someone be her girlfriend two years down the line,
Her heart feels like it’s hammering against a door, screaming, battering
Like it’s her starving frame surrounded by all the other skeletons in the closet she wishes she didn’t have to come out of but is fighting to leave anyway
And all because today a girl who wants to be her best friend but certainly isn’t
Deliberately humiliated her, accused her, slandered her
In front of the girl she thinks she might be in love with but is certainly in “God, I want to kiss her, just once, just to see what it feels like” with
And then told her while walking away “you can’t be trying to impress a girl, that’s totally gross”.
She’s been trying to dodge questions about the boy from Instagram who has a crush on her for the past month,
Been collating lists of male celebrities to pretend to like, a practice she’ll do for the next three years,
Been following around the popular girl in class,
All while fervently denying to herself that she dares to like girls.

Thirteen-year-old me is staring up at the mark on her ceiling that looks like an angel,
Closing her eyes,
And praying for herself from three years in the future to come and tell her that everything’s okay,
That this is all just a phase, no,
That this isn’t just a phase, no,
That one day she’ll be happy to be like this.

So hi, thirteen-year-old me.
I doubt this was what you wanted to see.
I’ve got no red hair with bright blue streaks
No heart tattoo to represent the heart that seeks only the love of a beautiful girl who’ll whisk me off into a world of adventure.
Where are my boots, you say? Where’s my leather jacket, my YouTube channel that had such a cool name back in 2013, my shirt in rainbow colours?
I don’t think this is quite the aesthetic you were going for; boring-haired bint dressed like a thinspiration blog probably wasn’t what you imagined for me. I’m still at your school, still hanging out with those friends you met in origami club, because they’re the people who accepted us. As it turns out, they’re a nonbinary femme person, a nonbinary pan ace person, an ace girl, a pan girl, even what you are; a lesbian.

You can tell me you wish I didn’t say that,
Wish that isn’t how I identify,
But I know that deep down all you want is to know in your heart that you like girls and only girls
For longer than the time you spent as a member of the MCRmy
Because that was well and truly a phase.
We come out to our best friend in March this year,
And all she says is “cool!”
And you feel ten pounds lighter,
Although considering how much weight you’ve lost that isn’t really what you’re looking for.
We come out to our mother in May,
And she’s fine, I swear,
Telling you she loves you,
Although maybe not to come out to anyone because she’s scared for your safety.
The next two years with her are a rollercoaster,
A series of awkward silences when you mention marrying a woman one day,
Intrusive questions,
Dismissal of your girlfriend,
And occasional moments in the car where she tells you she will love you no matter what you choose,
As though this whole thing were a choice,
Why would I choose to feel like this?
Why would I choose the papercuts between the webbing of my fingers
When I could be the man covered in magic and glitter and joy and pride?

You tell girls at school you’re gay
And they tell you they’re bi,
And you will wonder if you’ll ever come out to a heterosexual heteroromantic cisgender human being.
You do.
Their names are Ruth, Kirsten, Georgia and Voice,
And they are the best allies you could ask for.

You will wonder if you’ll ever fall in love with a girl who likes girls too,
A girl who won’t make you think of Ally Hills songs and scratching your own heart like it’s your eyes in the middle of hayfever season.
You do.
Her name does not matter,
It’s what you forget
When you grab her hand while crossing the street
And get more tingles than an ASMR video could ever give you.
It’s what you forget
When you ask her to kiss you in a music room,
Because in that moment she is really Julie, and you are Maddie,
And “kiss me, Hardy” is the last words your doubt will hear before it is shot by the taste of her mouth on yours.
It’s what you forget
On your first date with her,
When you make jokes about making her fall on her neck
Thinking that if she does that she’ll match the way you’ve fallen head over rainbow trainers for her.

So yes, thirteen-year-old-me.
You like girls, but you like more than that
You like music, and girls, and song, and girls, and politics, and novels, and poetry, and girls.
Girls are not all you are, but they are a part of who you are.
And they are a part that you will look back on,
A part that you will remember wishing to be torn from your body like a vial of blood at the phlebotomists,
And you will laugh at how stupid you were
To wish girls away.

Thirteen-year-old me,
I might not be the girl you wanted to become,
But I’m the girl you were meant to become.

—  A poem based on that “what you’d tell your thirteen year old self” post from last night

anonymous asked:

I Hope that the reveal satisfies your needs and makes thirteen year old you happy. Pretty Little Liars will live on forever

💖💖 Thank you so much. I hope this finale satisfies everyone’s desires by just making sense, and being logical. Tying everything together. PLL FOREVER 💖💖

i remember taking this picture when i was thirteen and thinking “im the best bug photographer in the world” and i’m still so proud of thirteen year old me being happy with myself for taking a pic of a confused looking grasshopper

Daddy 5SOS Preference: Coming to the Rescue

can you pls do a daddy 5sospreference when their daughter gets their period in school and their moms can’t pick them up so they have to?

A/N: Since Ashton doesn’t have a daughter, I’ll have Nebraska call him. So Nebraska is in this twice, poor thing! I hope you enjoy though :)

So, these are pretty short and I apologize, but not everything can be novel length, right? Right. Okay, good. Enjoy :)

Luke

Kayla was a very busy teenager. She was always running from one activity to the next, spreading herself thin as she got ready to start her senior year of high school. You and Luke helped out as much as you could, taking her where she needed to be and such. But you traveled for work sometimes, and Luke was left following his sixteen-year-old around as she lived her life. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Ok I would totally do this, so a scenario where Gom+kagami+kyoshi s/o is at there game , and she he huge posters and like a entire cheer squad and a shirt with theyre face on it just to embarass them ? Basically a hella proud s/o

Ohhhh! This idea sounds so cute! Thank you so much for requesting this! (ಢ⊱ಢ 。)  I had way too much fun writing for this request! I hope you like it! :3 ♥ 

Kagami smirked felinely and dunked the ball in with fervor as the third quarter ended. The crowd burst into excited applause because Seirin was leading by a large gap. As his feet touched the polished floor, the crowd calmed down, and instead a female voice filled the crowd. His cheeks turned pink and he screwed up his face in embarrassment as he turned to face you, who stood at the very front of the Seirin supporters, holding up a huge, unflattering and loud poster. You were cheering him on through a loudspeaker as your army of pom-pom holding freshmen eagerly chanted an upbeat mantra. When your eyes met Kagami’s, you grinned and gave him an eager thumbs up, showing off the shirt you wore, which had a less than flattering photo of him printed on it. He responded by sticking out his lower lip in embarrassment as his teammates tried not to laugh. You could tell he was pleased, though, because he grinned as soon as he turned away.

Teppei sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he turned back to look at you after stopping a dunk from the other team. His expression was identical to the one you had printed out on the t-shirt, and needless to say it was definitely less than flattering. He did not seem to care about that, though. He was mostly really flattered about how you had gathered a mass of cheerleaders to chant his name as you waved your ridiculous banner in the air. He did not know how to deal with the rest of his teammates, most of whom were feeling jealous, perplexed or annoyed (Hyuuga was possibly almost at his limit. He had been glaring at Teppei’s back ever since you showed up and began to distract him. He could sense CLUTCH TIME coming). You adamantly kept on supporting Teppei, and he would return your efforts with a grateful, if not slightly embarrassed, smile every time.

Kise grinned after scoring a particularly effective alley-oop with Kasamatsu. This grin widened when he heard your voice, and he turned around to look at you as he fell back on the defensive. Your army of cheerleaders, your loud, colorful and ridiculous poster, and face-printed attire would have probably weirded any sane person out, but Kise seemed fascinated. His excited smile widened even further as he raised his arms and mimicked the dance routine the cheerleaders were doing, even going as far as to happily chanting the mantra along with them. He was so busy with enjoying his little dance with you that he didn’t notice the opposing team begin a fastbreak, upon which Kasamatsu gave a condescending yell of his name and literally kicked his attention and his ass back to defense.

Midorima looked as if he might die. He was actually considering not scoring next time he received the ball. Every time his ball went through his hoop in a high-arc, you cheered his name out excitedly and waved your ridiculous banner in the air. The army of cheerleaders you had gathered to cheer his name would have been the worst thing about the entire situation if it weren’t for the t-shirts with his face printed on them. He didn’t even know how you had managed to find a picture of him kissing a stuffed hawk. IT WAS DEFINITELY PHOTOSHOPPED, YES IT WAS, HE NEVER KISSED A STUFFED HAWK. NEVER. He wanted to stuff Takao, who had been snickering behind his back since the match started, into a human cannon and shoot it at you. He kept shooting impassive glances at you between plays, though. But not because he was secretly pleased or happy about it or anything stupid like that. It was because you had almost completely misspelled his name in the banner. Yes. That was it. He WAS NOT PLEASED WITH THE EFFORT YOU PUT TO SHOW HOW MUCH YOU CARED. YEP. HE DEFINITELY DIDN’T CARE.

Aomine tried to look as if he did not care about the battalion you had gathered to cheer for him, or the ridiculous banner you had prepared for the occasion. But the picture you had printed out on the t-shirt was a bit bothersome. It was one of him from Junior High, and the sight of about fifty photos of his happy-go-lucky, thirteen-year-old self flashing a peace sign and grinning back at him from up in the stands was driving him insane. It totally ruined his threatening and menacing image, not that he cared of course. He was also annoyed by the chant you had prepared beforehand. The cheerleaders would routinely yell “DAIKI IS THE BEST YOU CAN SEE” and a recording of his voice would echo from the megaphone in your grinning hands, “THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN BEAT ME IS ME.” Yes. He was definitely trying not to care, but he allowed his lips to stretch into a wolfish grin. You were such an idiot.

You were baffled. Your army of cheerleaders had shown up in plain-white t-shirts. When you asked them why they didn’t wear the t-shirt you asked them to wear, they told you that this was the shirt that had been sent to them by the local printer you had ordered them from. Your own Kuroko-shirt had turned out fine, since it was the first sample and you had been there to monitor the printing process, but when you called the printer and asked them why he had sent plain shirts instead of the printed ones you had paid for, they told you that you didn’t send them any picture. NO. YOU DISTINCTIVELY REMEMBERED SENDING A PICTURE. The cheerleaders were milling around the stands aimlessly, trying to find who to cheer for. You could see him clearly even as he used his misdirection - perhaps because you were so used to him. If this wasn’t enough, the dude you had hired to make the banner had shown up, confusedly holding a plain banner that said, “GO! GO! GO! SEIRIN!” because he didn’t remember Kuroko’s name. Your plain had failed, and you were feeling miserable. Why didn’t everybody else realize how cool Kuroko was? Seirin would be completely lost without him! You were just about to rip apart the banner in dismay when you heard somebody say, “WHOA, DID YOU SEE THAT PASS? It looked like it curved around the defense!” You lift your eyes back to the court just in time to see Kuroko give you a tiny, encouraging smile. He nodded, and you couldn’t help but smile back. He liked being invisible. You were just going to have to put up with it, and give his team as much moral support as you could. You grin and join the Seirin crowd, yelling out a cheer of encouragement.

Murasakibara was not finding it easy to concentrate on the game. Yosen was already winning by a tremendous gap, anyway, so he was pretty much just lazing back on defense. His eyes wandered every now and then over to you. His eyes ran over his beautiful prize hungrily, wondering when he will be able to savor its beauty. He licked his lips as he imagined biting his prize, licking his prize, tasting his prize. How could he focus on the game when you, his lovely, beautiful, perfect girlfriend, was standing right there in the stands… savoring his prize; his BBQ potato chips! HOW COULD HE FOCUS ON THE GAME? []-CHIN WAS EATING HIS POTATO CHIPS! You definitely looked more colorful than usual, and you seemed to be leading a proud army who was chanting his name but… his chips…. Nn… He would have to make sure he got some from you after the game…

Akashi was trying his best not to smile. He had his complete focus on the game, and as usual Rakuzan was completely creaming their opponents, but a fragment of his mind kept wandering to you. A part of him chastised that you were wasting a lot of time and effort. He knew you were doing it to remind him of his superior skills and unbeatable strength, but he also believed that this was an unnecessary reminder. He knew he was absolute. He didn’t require you to remind this to him. The majority of his mentality, however, was glowing. It sure was nice to see some genuine displays of affection, sometimes. He made a mental note to properly thank you for being so considerate.
 ((((o(゚▽゚)o))) WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!)

i. He has a different meaning of forever than you.
ii. The blue eyed boy in your freshman math class will become your best friend.
iii. The blue eyed boy in your freshman math class will leave without saying goodbye.
iv. There will be a lot days where breathing hurts.
v. Those days always end.
vi. No matter what, tomorrow will always come.
vii. Your hands will stop shaking.
viii. The nightmares can’t control you.
ix. Neither can the past.
x. Happiness will come—someday.
—  “Ten Things I Would Tell To Thirteen Year Old Me” (29/365) by (DS)
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I know people love to hate on Monte, but Annika Marks is an amazing person, and she sums up so articulately on Afterbuzz how a lot of people feel about Jonnor:

I…I can’t talk about Jonnor without crying, so I’m warning you right now, I love this storyline SO much…like so much.  I have a lot in common with the 13 year old fosters fans.  … I really hope [they find a way to stay together] because to me that’s what this show is most significantly going to be remembered for…that’s its legacy to me.  That relationship…I think it’s literally changing people’s lives and giving people hope.  Every time they’re on screen, I’m happy.

“A nine year old, ten year old, thirteen year old they’re not thinking about sex, they’re thinking about love… and to me, that’s what the Jonnor storyline is doing so well.  There’s these moments where, like everyone else, you gotta talk about condoms, you gotta do the birds and the bees thing, but it’s [about] those two boys falling in love, it’s them holding hands, and them slow dancing.  It’s true…a thirteen year old girl who has a crush on a boy, we don’t make her start thinking about sex, we just say, “oh you have a crush that’s so sweet…” and we need to find the space, I think, to do that for gay teens.