Are you still doing requests? If so I have requested this before but like a John Laurens x chubby reader? I’d really like to see what you can do, since you’re like the best writer ever! (Loved breaking btw!!)
You adjusted the bag strapped to your back and walked down the street. You decided to wear a cute yellow dress today that really showed off your body because you were feeling really confident. I hope I’m not to late, I was supposed to meet John ten minutes ago! As you approached the café you and John planned to go for a little date you passed by a man. He whistled at you.
“Hey there, you’re liking mighty fine, sweetheart!” He hollered, you rolled your eyes. Gross. You ignored him and continued on your way. “I see how it is-” You didn’t listen to him finish that statement and instead walked inside the coffee shop. You saw John turn his head in your direction. He waved you over as you strutted to the seat he saved for you. He shot you a sly smile.
“Well don’t you look as pretty as ever!” He praised, you fanned yourself in an exaggerated manner.
“Oh my! Mr. Laurens you flatter me so!” He chuckled at your performance and handed you the coffee he ordered you as you sat across from him. You took a sip. “Perfect as always, love! You always know what my order is!” You joked. You took another drink and you could see John staring at you from the rim of the mug. “Can I help you, sir?” You asked as you set the cup down.
“What the heck did I do to deserve you?” He questioned with dreamy eyes, a few stray curls sticking out from his ponytail. You pretended to think for a moment.
“Let’s see… You’re cute, you’re funny, you like turtles… actually it’s because you buy me coffee, I’m sorry I lied.” You teased.
“Fair enough, I’ll take it!” He shrugged.
“I’m just kidding! You know I love you thiiiiiis much!” You extended your arms out wide.
“Stop being so cute!” He clutched onto his chest like his heart was aching. “I can’t handle it!” The two of you talked about your day as you finished your drinks.
“You wanna go get ice cream?” You grinned mischievously.
“Hell yeah! Mint choco-chip for the win!”
“Oh God, you’re such a dork!” You snorted, he took your hand and laced your fingers between his, leading you out of the shop. As you both walked beside each other, you saw the guy from earlier. Ugh, this asshole. He noticed you with Laurens and laughed.
“Well, look who’s back! And you brought a little friend, I can’t believe someone actually can deal with all of that! Dude, do you just ignore how big she is or something?” What a fucking dick! You felt John’s grip on your hand tighten.
“You want to take care of this or should I?” He whispered.
“I got this babe, don’t worry.” You looked the douchebag in the eye. “Oh trust me sweetie, he has no reason to ignore my size! He loves every single inch of me and more importantly I do too. It’s too bad an ass-hat like you will never be able to handle this much woman, or any woman for that matter!” You clicked your tongue and he looked genuinely offended.
“Dude, control you fucking girlfriend!” He whined, John chuckled.
“Don’t ‘dude’ me, first of all. Second of all, I don’t control her. Lastly, my girl is the most gorgeous thing on this fucking planet, your ass wishes it even had a chance with her!” John high fived you and you placed your hand on your hip.
“Damn right! Come on babe, we’ve got something more important at hand, ice cream!” The two of you walked past the dude, leaving him speechless.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” John asked.
“Yes, but you can say it again if you want.”
“I really fucking love you!” He smiled.
“I love you more than ice cream and destroying bullshit, which means I love you more.”
Oh guys look… what a nice can full of juicy, fat and squirming worms was waiting for me in my askbox :D
Anyway back to the question, watch me answer this without creating any kind of discourse :D How I feel about Floriana? How do I put this… you know the warm fuzzy feeling at the bottom of stomach? I mean have you seen her smile? And those dimples? I feel butterflies in my belly, my palms feel sweaty… and those dark eyes? I can feel my heart racing faster and my god she’s so smol it feels so cute to me… so… to sum this up, how I feel about Floriana Lima? I feel GAY… a lot :)
Last summer, I dreamed about gardening. About dirt smudged up my calves and fat tomatoes fresh from the fire escape.
So much of this year is not what we expected that it often feels – yes, still – like I’ll wake up one day and find that some invisible hand of Right has pushed us back into place like wayward chess pieces. For months, I did nothing but wait. I yelled and cried and was unpleasant at brunch and demanded that strangers apologize to me, and then it was enough.
We replaced the burnt out lightbulbs in the hallway, the rug the dog ruined. We bought a headboard and strung copper fairy lights across it. This reality may as well be beautiful.
I’ve joined a gym, and I sometimes even go. I watched my parents spend amicable time together and thought now I know the world is different. Ha, ha.
Yesterday I bought a mystery paperback for a dollar off of a cart on Vanderbilt Avenue and then read it stretched out in Prospect Park, taking furtive sips of a warm beer. Across from me, a very polite dog standing guard over a boy trying to teach himself a complicated board game. Beside me, a friend napping in the sunlight, waking up only long enough to ask, “Are you like, really angry? I’ve been yelling a lot lately.”
Yes, I said, but less so than I was last week, and the week before that. The bridge of my nose burned to a lovely pink.
When I got home I watered the plants on the fire escape: mint and lavender and sweet peppers, and yes, tomatoes.
Hello! I was wandering: can you show me how you draw those beautiful claws from diffrent angles and stuff?? I been dying to know... :)
Im going to assume you mean deathclaws bc if not, @helmip has a far greater understanding of claws themselves and lil tutorials from a while back (and many things tbh, theyre great. as you well know lmao) but i digress seeing how any creature works in a 3D space helps immensely - I’ve had to take a huge amount of screenshots and videos, done a bunch of lil studies, etc. to the point where I no longer need to reference them, I know what features go where. and of course, hyperanalyzing it for the sake of cosplay accuracy doesn’t go amiss either (the cosplay wasnt that accurate but the face scales are alright)
that being said, I’ve been drawing deathclaws wrong all this time bc I gave them a dip in their brow, when they’re actually a Fierce Rhombus
Note how scale placement and skin folds work! The hard scales around the eyes sweep out from the front corner of the eye, and then curve upward around the cheek. There’s also another line of scales that follows the curve of the teeth. This is all actually a pretty signature thing that Jonah does on his reptilian critters, it’s present on the Skyrim dragons too. Front view is very angular and straightforward; everything sweeps up and back.
figuring out where hard and soft tissue goes also helps with expressiveness but the hardest part is THEY DONT HAVE LIPS. any mouth expression would have to move their entire teeth which is fine if you know what you’re doing re:stylization. Different angles help if you convert the entire head structure into a Large Block
and their body is just a regular ol Fantasy Lizard Dragon Thing with a big tail (I like to give my ‘claws an extra fat tail so they look well fed and happy)
alright! *cracks knuckles* let’s talk about klance! i know all these points have been made in other posts but i’m just irritated and want to make my own post lmfao. i don’t understand people who say keith and lance don’t have any chemistry/potential/”romantic” moments…like…are you watching the same show that i’m watching? you don’t have to like the ship, dude, but there is no denying there’s something going on.
lance, your bi is showing.
do i even need to talk about the, “we are a good team” scene? this was ridiculously gay. holy fuck. tender hand holding. EVEN THE WAY KEITH SAYS LANCE’S NAME IS TENDER. they just sit there holding hands the whole time. they could have let go, either one of them could have let go, dude. keith wasn’t helping lance up. he kneeled down next to him and just…fucking held his hand? those soft smiles? lance doing the “fond eyebrow raise”? gay. and i know the purple lighting is from the galra crystal, but like…wow this whole set up was romantic as hell. seriously, sit back and imagine if one of them were a girl. boom, romantic. everyone would see it. so why is it so hard for some of y’all to see it here? not to mention the fact that we never actually saw the supposed “cradling” (i refuse to believe “I cradled you in my arms!” refers to this hand holding. there has to be more. a full on cradle). that was probably so fucking gay. AND THE EPISODE RIGHT AFTER, WHEN LANCE IS IN THE HEALING POD, KEITH BEING AN IMPATIENT LITTLE FUCK, FULL ON POUTING, TAPPING THE POD BECAUSE ALLURA WON’T LET LANCE OUT OF IT YET. EVEN THOUGH SHE SAID “JUST A FEW MORE TICKS.”
like, this boy can’t even fucking wait a few ticks because he just wants to see lance. there is no way to deny that he wants to see lance, talk to him, probably about their bonding moment. i bet he thinks everything is going to be different between him and lance now.
he’s also the last one to walk away from the pod. *eye emoji* why did they choose to show that? what was the Point? then, when lance comes out of the healing pod, keith gets this precious little smile on his face. he’s happy to see him. looking forward to talking about feelings and shit, most likely.
but! lance instantly flirts with allura and keith just says, “Classic.” he then proceeds to look salty as fuck with his signature broody arm crossing included. this poor boy. you’re killing him lance, you really are.
not to mention the many other times he has appeared jealous when lance is flirting. (”Jealousy, thy name is Keith.”) i’m not posting screencaps of all those moments because i’m so lazy and like i said, all these points have been made in other posts and i got other shit i’m focusing on.
here it is, the iconic, “We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!” scene. listen. i honestly can’t even think of a reason why keith would bring this up, unless he has a big fat crush on lance. it just did not fit into the conversation at all. let me type it out for y’all even though you probably don’t need me to. we’ve analyzed this to hell and back already but…
Lance:“Wow. Thanks, everybody. Sounds like the mice did more than you, though.” Keith: “I punched Sendak!” Lance:“Yeah, apparently after I emerged from a coma and shot his arm off.” Keith, looking completely fucking devastated: “We had a bonding moment. I cradled you in my arms!” (his voice CRACKS)
honestly, he looks like he just witnessed his world fall apart around him. #mood
i don’t know about you, but this would not be my reaction unless, like i said, i had a big fat crush on the other person. he looks so betrayed, oh my god. and lance…wow. lance says, “Nooope. Don’t remember, didn’t happen.” now, is it just me or is this totally lance being a little shit about the fact that keith didn’t remember him in the first episode when they’re saving shiro? i bet it is.
alright, now this here, this is my favorite. this screenshot is titled “GAY this is so fucking GAY” in my files because um? their faces? those are very fond and tender expressions. this whole scene was so gay i stg. keith was flirting up a storm with this boy and it was amazing. let’s not forget that the planet lance was on with nyma highkey had the bi flag colors and there was two rainbows in this episode. symbolism, guys. these things mean a lot and are very important in animation. (there’s a lot more symbolism that many people have pointed out, including what i said above but my ass don’t have the time to put them all here)
the flirtation is strong in this one. here’s some more moments (i probably didn’t put them all idk i can’t remember) where keith is either a) flirty or b) looking at lance with that oh so soft expression. he doesn’t really look at any of the other characters like this (definitely not at allura lmfao), at least not that i’ve noticed. correct me if i’m wrong.
wow keith you’re soooo cool…
a very underappreciated Soft Look.
this whole scene kills me every time, i love everything about it.
PROUD OF LANCE FOR COMING UP WITH A SICK ASS PLAN!
this still haunts me. it haunts all of us. why!!! did!!! he!!! say!!! it!!! like!!! that!!! you can hear the winky face in his voice. the way he says this is equivalent to 100 winky faces. if you don’t think this is blatant flirting, you’re a lost cause.
of course you were. of course. you want his attention. it’s okay, we know, lance.
LOOK AT THAT SMIRK KEITH IS SPORTING!!! anyways, that is the face of someone flirting. i make the same damn face keith makes when i flirt. if one of them were a girl, IT WOULDN’T EVEN BE A QUESTION. IT WOULD BE OBVIOUS FLIRTING AND PEOPLE WOULD SHIP THE HELL OUT OF IT. but no, they’re two boys. dudes bein’ dudes. just guys bein’ bros. wow, what a great bromance.
now, just for shits and giggles, let us compare how keith looks when he’s literally cradling allura in his arms vs. when he’s holding hands with lance.
he deadass looks like this -_- with allura. there’s actually a fucking…slight frown on his face now that i really look at it, oh my god. even when allura removes herself and blushes, he still looks like that. now, wouldn’t you think that, hm…if they wanted it to be known that keith wants to smooch allura, they’d at least put a slight blush on his face to match allura’s or maybe have him appear to be a little flustered?
he’s gay. i can’t imagine him not being gay. (imo, him being galra is a big metaphor for him being gay. coming to terms with who he is and “coming out” to the other paladins. everything hunk says to him in “The Belly of the Weblum” are common things straight people say to gay people. a lot of people in the fandom seem to agree with this, but maybe we’re all just reaching idk) i just feel like…someone who likes girls would have a different reaction than keith’s when faced with a beautiful girl like princess allura in their arms. yeah, i know, this has already been said. but!!! it’s!!! true!!! all of their “romantic” scenes together were awkward, forced and came right out of nowhere and keith just…had no reaction. compare that to all the faces he’s made at lance. yeah. the difference is ridiculously obvious.
there’s honestly so much more i want to add to this, stuff from the comics and more subtle things (including a screencap of lance’s face in “Escape from Beta Traz” when he’s talking about keith and how he does cool shit. boy had the most fond expression known to man. u know the one), but everything has already been said by someone else. i’ll end it by saying this, again, because i’m really fucking salty: if one of these boys were a girl, there would be ZERO question about the purpose of these interactions. it would all be seen as flirting and romantic. it’s such a common trope. red and blue. fire and ice. they balance each other out. peace the heck out.
I understand. Let's say just get up in the morning, get some breakfast, go for a walk...and that's it for a start.
*internally: sounds reasonable, but that means first fighting against my will to just stay in bed and act as if I'm not existing. Getting up either way and facing my face and body in the mirror. There's an 80% chance that it's one of those days and I hate myself just so fucking much I could scream. But there's also a chance I look in the mirror and find a person that does not seem to be familiar to me looking back at me. Still, now you want me to shower and wash this body I find really disgusting. I have to see every single scar I have and maybe feel the burn of fresh cuts. Then I have to put on cloth, brush my teeth and my hair and do my makeup, as I can't go outside without hiding my ugly face under layers of primers and foundations and powders and highlighters and fake lashes and a perfect contour and a big nude fake smile. I spend money I don't have to make myself look good enough for myself to endure my own appearance. I remember to take my meds. Now I'm dressed (in clothes that hopefully say 'i don't care' when really I care a lot) and can go to the kitchen to prepare food that I know I won't be able to eat in 50% of the cases. There's also a good chance that I eat it and then find myself throwing up and ruining my makeup feeling every single disgusting cell of fat on my body vibrate while trying to breathe. Well either way let's say I might redo my make-up, brush my teeth again and step outside. I maybe take my horse with me and walk through the neighbourhood. I have to see people. I feel anxious. I would love to just turn around and go back home. But I keep on walking, trying to seem selfconfident so my horse and neighbours can't see or feel my insecurity. I'll try to be friendly and act normal even though I'm sure they hate me and laugh about me. Still if the communication between my horse and me isn't perfect today I'll probably cry and if a neighbour just looks at me in a way that i interpret to be unfriendly or cold or annoyed I'll probably cry too. Let's say I'm back home. Now it's like 11 in the morning. What do I do? By now I'm an emotional wreck, tired as hell, probably planing on how to harm myself with one half of my brain while the other half bundles it's last energy to prevent exactly this from happening. How do I survive the rest?*
*poof* This is the only way I really take selfies…with a snapchat filter. I think that’s going to change. I’ll start showing my scars. Start showing the acne and hives and marks and blemishes. I’m so hard on myself and always looking for validation. All of the stressing doesn’t help. I keep myself from meeting new people because I can’t face the thought of them not liking me. I was always reduced to a joke and made fun of growing up in school. I had thick glasses since I’m almost legally blind. Pepperoni face…like the commercials you see for proactiv where they like to boast the most terrible cases can be cured… I’m unable to take accutane so watching everyone like me in school become clear and bloom into social butterflies made me want to kill myself all the time. I haven’t changed since then. I can’t accept myself. That has to change. I’m becoming violent. I’m acting out against myself. I want peace. I need love. And I can’t be worried about wanting people to like how I look. It is so hard.
These are wood or carpenter bees and guess what! I have one!
It is wonderful! I noticed him today! There is a piece of flashing/edging that overlaps the beams that make up my rooftop garden. It needs to be fixed, because the rain and wear have made the flashing lift up from the edge of the beam, creating a little tunnel of a gap. Today I was watering my leeks, and they are flowering. I saw the bee, his little fat body hovering. I though he wanted to get at my onions, and so leaned back. But no! He wanted to land in his little home!
He bumbled into the tunnel and squeezed his fat body in. And I got a very good look at him! He was about the size of the last knuckle on my ring finger, fat, black, fuzzy all over, but with a little yellow saddle on his back ringed with shimmering gold. A lovely, fat little bee.
And I looked him up, thinking, “I wonder if he has a hive or something? Should I protect that area, or was it a stop over for him?” I have discovered that they are solitary bees! They find little homes like this!
Apparently they eat wood, but there’s really nothing for him to eat here, so he’s alright where he is. What a lovely surprise! I do hope he gets as large as the big one there in the image of a bee on a hand. Mine is rather tiny. I called a friend who keeps bees. He says that it is a baby wood bee, which to me is one of the most adorable phrases I have ever heard.
Say it: Baby wood bee.
I have set out a dish of sugar water for it, right beside the doorway to its house. I hope he pollinates my veggies and whatnot. I like the notion of that.
Thank you for the amazing update! I'm curious; while you gave us a good idea of what drunk Yuuri was yelling about at the party with the 'you' and the observation that it sounded like a series of insults, did you have in mind exactly what Yuuri was saying? Or just the general gist since nobody in the fic knows (and will never find out anyway)?
Lol will Yuuri’s yelling in Japanese forever remain a mystery?? ;)
Are we ever going to know what yuuri said when he was drunk?
I wont write it out exactly but the general gist of it was:
Yuuri’s face contorted in an instant, eyes narrowing and mouth twisting into an almost snarl as he called something sharp and harsh in an unfamiliar language across the room, eyes still looking directly at Viktor. Despite not understanding a single one of the few words that Yuuri had just said, from the tone and his accusatory pointing finger Viktor was pretty sure that the words would translate into something very similar to a version of ‘you’ that was very far from polite.
This is pretty much exactly what it looks like, Yuuri is pointing at Viktor and saying something along the lines of ‘you! Hey, you’ in a rude way.
“Ignoring his hesitant words of greeting Yuuri snapped out another tumbled string of syllables in the same foreign language as his first.”
Here Yuuri is telling a brief summary of why he hates Viktor, something along the lines of ‘yeah, you! you called me fat and didn’t think I could be a skater. How do you like me now asshole?’
At Viktor’s lack of response Yuuri yelled something else that sounded suspiciously like a series of insults
Again, this is exactly what it looks like. Viktor isn’t responding so drunk!Yuuri is just generally insulting him like ‘you’re so arrogant and I hate you’ etc
Viktor turned back to Yuuri who was still slumped in his arms, glaring up at Viktor, mumbling something in Japanese and poking Viktor sharply in the chest
Here Yuuri’s kind of mellowed out slightly because he’s yelled most of the actual insults his drunk mind can think of so now he’s saying more along the lines of ‘I hate you and your stupid skating and your pretty face’
After some manoeuvring he managed to get Yuuri back on his feet again but the other man ended up clinging to his shoulder, half draped over Viktor as he continued to drunkenly rant at the man he had plastered himself too, feet too unsteady to stand on his own.
“Here Yuuri is ranting about his feelings basically. Something along the lines of ‘I hate how you always beat me and now I beat you and you didn’t even stick around to see it and it’s not fair, why did you just leave?’
Yuuri mumbled something else that was definitely not in English and finally stopped ranting, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder with a yawn and sounding considerably less angry than he had a few seconds before.
But at least you’re here now
Every now and again he tossed another couple of words at Viktor but they sounded as though they had much less bite to them as before.
‘I still hate you, you know.’ etc but much less mean and more of an afterthought
Instead he simply wound his arms around Viktor’s neck and buried his face into his shoulder, muttering something else that Viktor couldn’t quite make out.
This is where he started to get into sappy territory, when Viktor picked him up. Something like ‘you feel really nice’
And then obviously he finally starts talking in English
What is the most romantic birthday thing you have done for each other? Who goes more all out for birthdays?
Harry: We’re both pretty out-of-control on the other’s birthday, to be honest.
Draco: True. And I get him as many gifts as I can think of; anything I think he might like.
Harry: And he plans the most extravagant parties, I mean–
Draco: You’ve spent enough of your birthdays without presents and celebrations. For as long as I’m alive, I will ensure all your birthdays are over-the-top.
Harry: *kisses his cheek* I keep a list over the course of the year; I note down anything he says he’d like to have - books, robes, shoes, stuff he wants for the house - and then I buy him whatever he hasn’t already got by the time his birthday comes around.
Draco: *dreamily* And he cooks - oh god, he makes these ridiculously lavish dinners in an attempt to get me fat.
Harry: *laughing* Clearly, you can never get fat; I’ve been trying for years.
Draco: *chuckling along* I knew it!
Harry: Two years back, he gave me an engraved Snitch for my birthday.
Draco: *suddenly laughing a lot harder*
Harry: *impassively* It had two overlapping hearts etched onto it and it had the words, “To your heart, from the bottom of mine…” engraved underneath.
Harry: I thought it was so sweet; he’s never one for cheesy stuff like that - and then he asks me to kiss it open–
Draco: *shouts with fresh deluge of laughter*
Harry: The Snitch clicks open, and a pop up picture of Draco’s arse bonks me on the nose.
Draco: *through tears of laughter* “…from the bottom of mine”!
Harry: *grinning widely* I keep it at my desk at work - it does wonders to lift my mood when I’m having a rough day. Plus it’s brilliant wank-material.
•A JOURNAL ENTRY: WHAT IS IT REALLY LIKE TO LIVE WITH DEPRESSION?•
i wouldn’t exactly call it living. more like surviving… i look at the environment surrounding me, memories lie tattered in my brain. a life i want to believe was once so full and fruitful has become unthinkably dull. my own eyes were once baby blue but have since faded to an iridescently eerie gray. im hurting. it hurts. im not lying.
i would tell you that you don;t understand- but i;ve begin to notice that everything can only be interpreted in relation to other things or feelings. and this is the only thing ive come to recall feeling. this ethereal delicate coldness within my core, shaking and rattling my bones, consuming my every feeling of functionality. im clearly broken beyond repair- yet i aimlessly crave fixture.
i am light with awful lightness. my blood is mud and my bones are brittle. my thoughts freely cascade within my mind, setting fire to all of my precious sensibilities . any meager ration of purpose and hope is replaced by these fucking reminders that i am truly and entirely 113% alone in this.
at one point, i wanted help. i went to therapy once a week- on bad weeks i went twice. i convinced myself that the glass was half full. i made the most out of everything- and in the process, i made a fool of myself.
i spoke out. i cried for help. i wrote it in books, on forums, i would have carved the words “help me” into my damn skin on my damn forehead if i thought for one minute that anybody was listening.
and i know you’re listening if you’re reading this. but are you really reading this? are you reading me? can you feel the pain in the tips of my fingers, in the ends of my hair, in the blood in my veins, in the staggering cry of my voice at 2 in the morning- an ugly face soaked in the tears resulting from years of utter and complete destruction and then desertion of every little thing i feel?
can you feel my pain?
can you imagine trying to fall asleep when there are actual fucking faceless voices in between your ears jabbering an unimaginably taunting cry? whispering demented nonsense into your ears nonstop after you beg and plead with yourself to quit hearing those damn voices. your mind races like it’s been training all its life and this is the moment it has all led up to: the olympic event of self destruction. and it’s taking home the gold.
i close my eyes and i am so unbelievably tired. staying alive is a fight and today it has beat
me to a pulp. my eyes have bags as big as my regrets and my face is tired from
pretending to light up with joy all day.
jesus christ, it’s my junior year and i’m graduating in less than a year. surely there is one thing to even half way grin about. no, you are wrong. because for every good little thing that happens- every time it seems like it’s getting better, every false sense of hope, for every good thing, there is depression.
my false sense of hope has found its home. depression is a polite host to every single good
feeling in my body. depression feeds me, it cleans me, it loves me, it speaks to me, it knows me.
depression wants to stay forever. it houses in my bones, it feeds on my fears, it gets high on my anxiety, it exchanges hope for hopelessness, it thrives on my insecurities, and depressions favorite thing to do is to keep me up on nights like tonight, where i’m at my worst.
i’m scared, truly. i used to be obsessed with the seasons- more importantly, the transition of one season to anther. perhaps i used to be so fond of change because change was actually a possibility at that point in my life.
winter turning into spring was my favorite. i would lay on the dead, crunchy, brown remnants of the grass, the air around me crisp and cold, stabbing my lungs with every swift,
sharp breath. my nose rosy and cold, sniffling along every chill within my body. bare branches of tall oak trees
stretched into the white winter sky, seemingly reaching for the sunlight the tree craved and needed, as my pale, cold, minuscule hands clutched at the dry, barren earth beneath me- fumbling for more meaning of the world around me. why must seasons change, but my heart always feels the same?
you see, i resonate so very deeply with the winter months. gardens and patches of land that were once beaming with flora and fauna, life and expounding sunlight and warmth, now lay isolated, empty, sterile- similar to the child in me that once was jubilant and lively, but now turned into some thing so cold and ugly. the innocence has beend lost and the happiness within me has since been destroyed by the monster within me, which claims not only me as a victim, but those around me who love and care about me
i only know that i am loved and cared for because i’m continuously and perpetually told this upon a daily basis. it has become very prevalent to me that people feel much better about me when i validate that i know that they are here to talk and that i am loved. yes, i know this. but i cannot feel it. the love that you have for me is, in the least offensive way possible, absolutely irrelevant to my entire being.
you could listen to me rant for days upon weeks, you could read this bible that i’m typing. but i can never seem to make the people around me realize that i am never going to truly accept the love they offer me.
i often wonder if it is true love that inspires people to be there for those with depression- or if those surrounding me simply feel compelled to profess their love and support to me because they see my approval and wellbeing as a direct reflection of their credibility as a friend or family member.
i feel as if i am a burden to those around me, simply harshening the seemingly good mood that literally everyone else but me is capable of partaking in. i want to run with wild horses, frolic among wild flowers, hear the laughter of a child, hold hands with someone i love, and entertain deeply fulfilling and life changing relationships- but you see, the way my life is set up- i am actually emotionally incapable of doing so!
i am most aware of my unfortunate illness and incapability to be happy in the most unexpected and irrational times. take birthday parties, for instance. celebration and good vibes fill the air around me, seeping into my black, pitiful lungs. everyone around me smiles and sings, drowning in their jubilation, as i sit and watch. i want to have fun. please believe me. i want to sing happy birthday. i want to watch you open your gifts. i want to be as happy as you. i want to feel the warmth in my cheeks as i have the time of my life with my friends. but some thing within me compresses each and every slither of joy i am capable of feeling. i am suffocated by the downfall of my emotions and i am blinded by the reminder that depression doesn’t take breaks, not even at birthday parties. depression is strongest whenever you are faced with situations that expose you to the reality that you’re the odd one out- you’re sticking out like a sore thumb. you’re moping and you’re constantly staring out into space. what are you even looking at? what do you have to think about? you have nothing to live for, so anything beyond what’s right in front of you has no relevance in this whole scheme of life. so take it or leave it. you should be enjoying this birthday party. all the other kids are happy. you should be too. you’re lucky you even left the house today. so lucky. had you stayed home, you would have been 100% alone with your thoughts, rather than 97% along with your thoughts, due to the constant interruption of your moping and resentment by peers and parents and teachers asking “is everything okay?”
habitually, you nod. yes. everything is fine. i’m doing well, thank you. but what is the meaning of life? why do i feel like there’s a big fat man sitting on my chest and stomach and heart all the time? why do i always feel like i’m the only one in the room holding back tears trying not to cry? why are the other kids so happy? am i missing out on some thing? why do i feel so sad? why is it that every time i’m surrounded by people who say they love and care for me, i feel as if i’ve never been more alone before in my life? why? do you pity me? it’s just who i am. is that weird?
and oh my god i was always so desperate to be different. perhaps it was just the way my personality was set up. and i was always fairly extroverted. but it was presumably a persona that i put on. hey world, look at me. i’m silly and creative and ill say things that nobody else would say. pay attention to me, look at me.
because i needed them to watch. i hope you never feel so out of control of your body as me, to where you feel as if the only way that you can be saved is if other people figure out that you’re dying on their own. you don’t know how to come straight out and tell them, “hey, i really would rather not be alive at this given moment. i have visions of ending my own life. i use self isolation as a coping mechanism at times in order to feel like less of a burden on those who love me. i haven’t felt genuinely loved in a really long time. i’m so lonely. i could really use a friend right now.”
you can’t just say that. and i became depressed at 9 years old. how would a 9 year old even possibly articulate these complex and life threatening emotions that severely alter the way that every one of their peers perceives them. those middle years are crucial for making friends. it’s at that age that you have to find a group of 3 to 8 people who accept at least half of your given characteristics and occasionally invite you to partake in shit that kids do.
i wouldn’t know. i was a fleeting spirit. appearing and disappearing from cliques like it was clock work. there was more than one willow. there was the catty, witty willow- that found self-approval and approval from others by teasing and belittling others in order to build her own confidence up. then there was the sweet, flower child willow that sold daisy chains on the playground at recess at the price of one hug. there was the willow that stayed near the teachers at times because it was obvious that the other kids wanted nothing to do with her.
and as time progresses, the newer evolution of willow became prevalent. the willow that kept to herself most of the time, spending recess in the class room alone, drawing on the pages of her books, talking to herself, worrying her life away. everyone wondered - what was wrong with willow? or perhaps nobody noticed at all. maybe i was so insignificant even at such a young age- that the only time people considered me was in my dreams.
depression changes a person. some times, the change isn’t even tangible or noticeable to those surrounding the victim. some times, it is a slow discourse of the destruction of the spirit. it can slowly creep into your ear one ungodly night, and forever more whisper its awful lies into the victims ear, as it infects their whole body, their heart, their mind, their spirit, their hands, their eyes. everything. it slowly progresses into the uncontrollable loss of feelings and motivation to even maintain basic proper hygiene. it makes everything feel pointless. things are no longer worth the effort because you’re going to die no matter what, and that can’t come soon enough.
yes, depression can be slow and progressive. but that’s not the worst. the worst depression is the kind that sneaks up on you out of nowhere in the dead of night and immediately stiffens every hair on your body and turns your blood cold, making your mouth dry and your tongue numb. this depression hits you like a fucking train. it hits you in your most vulnerable state- comfort and normalcy. from that point on, you will never know normalcy again.
depression has a way of deceiving you into believing things that are crazy and untrue. but these things become so real to you as the depression progresses into a lifestyle that you come to know nothing else but the lies that depression will fill you with- so nobody can really tell you anything. it will call you names. it will tell you that you’re better off dead. it will be your only comfort- feeling nothing- during the night, whenever anxiety holds you until you pass out from exhaustion. you will never be cold at night as long as anxiety and depression have you snuggled up in between them.
oh how depression loves to kick you around and belittle you. oh how it renders your fantasies pointless. it loves to keep you hostage- to the point where any time you get an idea that doesn’t include moping around in your own sorrow, it immediately renders that idea impossible and reminds you that you are depressions bitch. you eat when depression finishes telling you how fat and disgusting you are. you sleep all day, so depression can take a dip in your nightmares. you wake up, and realize that life with depression is the true nightmare after all.
you pray for the day that you are relieved from this blinding madness and this subliminal torture. you feel as if you are not only a burden to your own self, but a burden to the people who love you and care for you
the only times when depression allows you relief from questioning the ulterior motives of those around you who claim to love you and care for you is when depression instead allows you to feel ashamed of your affliction. when you’re depressed, people notice. they may pretend not to and they may ignore it. but they know. they just don’t know what to say.
what would they say anyways?
hey. i’m sorry your brains are figuratively dripping out of your ears and i’m sorry that you have convinced yourself that i only care about you because i feel guilty, and i’m also sorry that you don’t even have the motivation to take a shower. i’m also sorry that you don’t
remember the last time that someone made you feel special. i’m sorry that you can’t find a reason to smile. i’m sorry that out of all the millionaires, the talented ones, the ones who fall in love, and the ones with nice asses- you were the one to end up hating yourself and everything around you.
ask yourself…. what do you say? what do you say to someone who is depressed?
know that i understand that you don’t know what to say. because yes this sucks. and i don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to wish you were dead. and i am so jealous of you for that. but please treat me the same as everyone else. please love me. make
me laugh. invite me to go shopping with you. get shit faced with me. help me fill the gaping hole in my soul with pointless memories of laughter and small talk. talk about life with me. listen to what i have to say. let me love you.
yes, i have depression. trust me, i will never forget! but please, help me feel normal. i don’t want to feel different than you. i want to be your peer, not your charity case.
i am dying to make friends. i am dying to spend less time in this bed writing shit like this. i am tired of letting this god damn disease walk all over me like i’m a fucking patch of dead grass.
life sucks. but please remind me that winter fades to spring. please remind me that some flowers are seasonal, and not every flower spends its whole life in bloom. remind me that you have to spend time in the dark to understand just how beautiful life in the sunlight is. remind me that there’s no cure for a bad day like a strawberry daiquiri and deep, controversial conversations with complete strangers.
remind me that my car has a sunroof and that it’s okay to open it up and let my hair get a little messy. remind me that music is better when it’s too loud to really interpret what the artist is saying- but you don’t have to understand to feel some thing.
remind me that i don’t have to lose this fight.
i am fucking hurting. but for the love of god, i’m begging you to help me fix me. because i forget that there’s good in the world. i forget that depression isn’t the boss of me. i forget that i have the whole world in my hands. i forget that there’s life after high school and that it’s okay to be alone some times, but it’s never okay to be lonely.
i will never forget what it is like to have my heart ripped out by a disease that i can’t even lay my hands on. perhaps i can touch the blisters under my eyes from
crying so much. perhaps i can run my hands along the holes i’ve punched in the walls from being so angry with myself. and yes i can feel how my bed is sinking in towards the ground because i spend so much time laying here trying to feel some thing besides utter destruction and loneliness. i can never forget what this disease has done to me. there will always be a piece of my heart that this depression has stolen from
but with loving other people, i can aimlessly work to mend that hole. i can’t do it alone. i need a friend. i need you here with me.
i am so tired of being alone.
i will push you away at first. i may come off as helpless and a bitch. but please, that is the depression talking. it’s not willow.
willow loves the color pink
willow loves wild flowers
willow loves the smell of green onions
willow loves the feeling of sand under her feet
willow loves hearing about your childhood and how you had a speech impediment and a cat named angel
willow loves the smell of rain when it hits a hot sidewalk
willow loves to go barefooted
willow loves establishing connections with animals
willow loves willow, some times she just can’t see it
i need a gentle reminder of what it’s like to be a real normal teenage girl
this shit is hard. and being misunderstood makes it harder.
so i’m saying it loud and clear. my name is willow and i have clinical depression and generalized anxiety. my life has been a series of almost laughably awful events, which have resulted in said mental illnesses. i have been misunderstood, bullied, neglected, and hurt. but my story does not end here. i may never completely overcome my depression, but i will overcome my failure to acknowledge my illness. i will work to educate people about those who suffer as i do. i will help those with depression. i will be the friend that i have never had, but always needed, to anyone who wants it. i will be a testament to the depression that has oppressed me for 8 years now.
depression is not who i am. depression does not define me. what defines me is the fact that i am staying alive even though it is proving to be the biggest struggle that i have ever encountered, and i am asking that you help me and people like me. because it’s not a one person job.
my name is willow. and i’m telling you that depression is a rude ass bitch. but i’m a bigger bitch, and unlike my illness, i have the power to make people feel loved and valid. and i will use that power to overcome my depression.
i would like to dedicate this journal entry to everyone reading it. i may go to school with you, you may be just a random tumblr user, you may suffer with depression, you may suffer with some other deeply oppressive situation, you may just be a happy son of a bitch.
it doesn’t matter who you are. let this. journal entry be a testament to your life.
there are people with depression. and there is no way that i can ever explain to you just how it feels via tumblr text post or even via socratic seminar complete with gardens of text books and instructional videos. all i can say is that in this life, you are responsible for being there for the people around you.
you never know what someone is going through. people with depression practically have licenses and 4 year degrees in the field of putting up facades of being okay and sucking it up and repressing those explosive emotions. they don’t expect you to give a shit about them, because as far as they’re concerned, nobody has given a shit,
nobody currently gives a shit, and nobody ever will give a shit about them. they make it hard to help. but it’s so important that you break down those walls. and some times, all you need to do is smile at someone or invite someone to eat after school or to go to a party. you can’t do much for someone with depression. like i said, they’re a whole world away. their concerns and struggles are immaculate, indescribable. however, it doesn’t take much to show someone that you care even a little bit. even if it’s just picking and giving them a random flower.
if you suffer from depression or know anyone with depression and you need someone to look to for advice/help/inspiration, my DM’s are open. oversharing is caring. i know what it’s like to want to take your own life, and i fought the urge to do so even while writing this journal entry.
i am here for you. you are not by yourself. please DM me if you ever need someone to send you pictures of a cute animal to cheer you up, or if you even need me to talk you out of suicide. i know both feelings.
if you’re reading this,
i challenge you to go out of your comfort zone. yes you. i challenge you to do this one easy thing at either work or school, or out in public or in your family
1. pick 3 flowers, they can be store bought or you can have picked them yourself
2. give one flower to someone who you worry might have depression
2. give one flower to a random person who you don’t know
3. give one flower to a person you would like to get to know better, you never know when someone desperately needs a friend
it’s just a flower, but you could save someone’s life. some times, all people need is a gentle reminder that good things still exist and that somebody is thinking about them.
don’t be the person that assumes too high of a role or makes an excuse to not be able to participate in this challenge or share this journal.
you never know when you can save someone’s life.
remember: no matter who you are, i love you. and i am willing to comfort you in times of need. i’ve been where you are. and i know how much ass depression sucks.
my DM’s are open, and so is your future.
don’t end your story this early.
Willow Scalisi 4/18/17 (dam i just realized sonic got half priced burgers today, turn up)
I feel like women’s plus size fashion is so bizarre sometimes
It feels like
‘Oh I’m sorry did you want to cover that roll of fat on your back? We put a mesh panel there. Actually the whole back is mesh. The entire shirt is mesh. All we have is mesh. Yes, it costs $50.’