#(one day depression + anxiety will stop kicking my ass but until then we power through it i suppose haha)

[pinstripe-doodles]

Some things

[welcometoclass1ahell]

Fake Redemption Dabi x Fem! Reader

Another depressive read from a depressive writer. Boom ta da Dabi x Reader who clearly needs help. Please No minors, even if this isn’t sexual it’s still meant fo adults.

Word Count: 2088

But TW!: Abuse, drugs, cocaine, abuse and more abuse, depressive triggering shit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She knew.

It was a terrible idea. She however accepted that idea. It didn't matter if it was the worst idea either. She wanted this.

The cold air whipped into her face as if someone just threw a glass of water filled with reality onto her. Why was she going? Why did she think she deserved it? That last thought caused a strained laugh to spill from her almost blue lips. 

Thankfully nobody would see her laughing at her own self at this time at night, standing next to the bus stop. She wasn’t even waiting for a bus, it was just another distraction for her. Taking her time was only delaying what was coming.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she looked at the name calling her, her lips curling into a sneer. “Impatient to get this over with huh?” mumbling to herself, she silenced the call and continued on the dark road towards the only place she knew would get her what she wanted. No. What she needed.

Walking there was the part she hated the most. It gave her time to rethink, to go over her thoughts repeatedly until she hated herself more for it. 

Finally getting there felt like a redemption, a false one, but a redemption indeed. Looking at her goal, the rusted iron door to an old worn down factory that screamed ‘Stay away!’ only enticed her closer. Raising her hand she knocked three times slowly and waited as she heard the heavy footsteps on the other side.

The door creaked open to reveal what she had been waiting for, a man who would have caused children to cry and mothers to scream at one glance of his jet black inked face and arms. “You could have answered my call, doll” The man who referred to himself as Dabi drawled out his eyes narrowing down on her.

“Could have, but didn’t,” She responded tiredly yet a tone of anxiety seeped through her voice. Shrugging, Dabi side stepped letting the woman enter before slamming the door shut and locking it to make sure no one would be interrupting tonight. “You got everything?” She asked as she walked over to a small wooden crate, one of the few only items left in this abandoned building. Sitting down she turned her eyes to Dabi who nodded with a smirk and walked over pulling out a baggie with white substance coating the insides.

“I got everything, all yours doll. I also made sure no one will be around till morning. Are you sure you want to do this again?” He asked, his godly blue eyes staring into her own eyes made them both pause. Now normally, he couldn’t give a rat's ass who he made dealings with but this frequent customer of his had his curiosity. She wanted something nobody has asked of him ever. Not willingly anyway.

“Yes. I doubled the payment as well, I need this to last a while,” She stated matter of factly before shrugging off her coat. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t help but peer down at her arms covered in bruises. He hated to admit it but the swirls of yellow, blue, green, purple, and even black were beautiful to him. Maybe he was biased, since he was the one who had put them there.

“You know I don't usually ask about anybody’s business, but I’d like to know. Why do this to yourself?” He couldn’t help but ask as he watched her smile up at him like a lunatic. He knew better though, she was only faking the smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Mr. Dabi?” She responded keeping her edge of mystery and teasing as he threw her the bag of snow which she caught with two hands. Opening the bag she eyed the substance and once satisfied she pulled out her phone and her debit card. Cutting lines silently, she didn’t bother to acknowledge her supplier, still staring at her with amusement. “It’s just not everyday a pretty woman comes knocking and asks for some supplies as well for her dealer to absolutely beat the shit out of her to go along with it. I prefer beating the people who owe me money, not pay me money,” 

“Funny isn't?” She retorted back as she rolled a dollar bill from her wallet into a fine tube before lowering her face but not before she looked up at Dabi through her eyelashes, “However I don’t go around asking anybody to beat me up you know? You just happen to be a very handsome man who knows how to hit the spot just right,” Her laughter filled the cold room for a moment as Dabi couldn’t help but chuckle a bit himself. “You intrigue me, dollface,” Was the only response she got before she put the dollar tube up to her nose, expertly inhaling the lines she had set up.

“I’ll give it a moment to kick in and we can start, yeah?” Dabi only nodded before kicking another crate close to the one she was sitting on and sat across from her,” How about after we finish up here, you and me go for a drink? My place?” He offered to which the woman sat still as she looked at him in disbelief. “We’ve met up numerous times, fucked once or twice, smoked or did lines once and twice, but every time I always had to beat you till I wasn’t sure if you were breathing or not. But me asking you out to drink is shocking?” Dabi teased after getting no response with a smile before he received a nod.

“Fine, I suppose that's alright,” She agreed and both her and Dabi sat in silence for a few moments before she started to feel the rush come to her veins. Energy began to flow through her as she stood up and walked to the middle of the spacious factory room signaling Dabi to follow to which he did. Turning around to say she was ready was only met with a harsh punch to her cheek which had her huff out in surprise. No noise spilled from her lips as her head cracked to the side. Kicks, punches, spit, and anything else Dabi could do to her, she felt for the past hour. It felt painful of course, but so freeing. It was just what she needed. She longed for some type of touch, something to pull her from the edge of slipping through the cracks of insanity and this…..oh yes this was her redemption. 

Everyone always left her, friend or lover. Parents or teachers. She was always given up on or abandoned. She couldn’t figure it out. Years of being neglected as a child to now being seen as nothing but a waste of ‘potential’, whatever that meant, had her come to realize a false truth. She was the problem. Now deep down she knew it wasn’t that. She never did anything. She only had hateful parents, fake friends, teachers who just couldn’t care for their less paying jobs, and lovers who needed a quick fuck bring her down to this level. But she needed a reason otherwise it would hurt more. She decided she was the problem. She didn’t communicate enough. She was the one who didn’t try harder, who kept trying till something worked. It was all her fault and now to this day she seeked her false redemption.

She loved the sound and feeling of Dabi’s knuckles cracking against her face, the way his heavy boots collided with her ribs giving off a satisfying thump, or the way he spat on her with a loathsome look in his eyes. She loved it all because she knew at the end of the day he wouldn’t leave her. He wouldn’t neglect what she wanted, no what she needed. He was always there. That’s why she kept coming. The pain, the feeling of adrenaline, the focus of someone else on her was what she loved having.

She felt free, as if this was going to lift her out of her shithole of a life. The sad fact however is once it began it also ended. Lying on the cold cement ground, heaving deep breaths of air in her lungs as the drugs still pumped through her veins wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Pushing herself up with shaking arms, she tried to stand up to face more. The fresh bruises on her face screaming in the beautiful vibrant colors couldn’t be felt to her. No she could never feel the after effects for a while but she can feel the impact. It was powerful enough to get through the drug that way.

“M...More,” She breathed out looking up to the onyx haired man who simply had taken out a cigarette and started to smoke. “I think you’ve had enough for-”

“It’s never fucking enough! I need more! Please...im begging you,” She screamed out, her voice echoing through the facility as Dabi stared at her in shock. She never screamed at him before. In fact he’s never heard her raise her beautiful voice to anyone. She knew she looked pitiful, he could tell with the way her face started to scrunch up in shock from herself. Taking a deep drag of his smoke, he squatted down so the balls of his heels were firmly planted into the ground.

“Hey...look at me,” He gently muttered as he helped her sit up before his eyes bore into her own. “That's enough. Here, take a hit,” He offered to which she took, her pupils still large and round as she looked back at him, “Listen, after a while I kind of started to figure you out. You don’t need this to feel something you know. You don't deserve to do this to yourself,” He started to which she looked at him with wide eyes, tears starting to pool threatening to spill over.

“You don’t know that,” She simply stated in a hurt quiet tone. “No, I don’t. But you know what I do know? People who do deserve this don’t do this to themselves. They bring it out on others. I would know that at least,” Dabi responded lightly, “You come here every three days. Every three days you pay me to do this to you. Every three days you get yourself so fucked up and get me to beat the living shit out of you and for what?”

“It’s the only thing I have Dabi! I want to fucking feel something for christ sake! Don’t I pay you enough?”

“It’s not about the fucking money anymore!” Dabi roared back, causing both to be silent for a few seconds before he continued, “It’s about the fact that I’m starting to feel like shit doing this to you. Dealing you shitty drugs is one thing, but beating up a woman who’s so pathetically on the verge of not caring for her own life anymore is something else,” He spat more harshly than he meant to. Sighing, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,” Doll, I don’t want to be the reason you want to end it. I want to be the reason you start something more. I hate to admit it but after a year of this shit I can’t help but start caring for the mystery woman who like to have her ass get kicked,” He laughed to which she couldn’t help but join in a little.

“Why?” Was the only response she gave to which he shrugged, “You’re cute for one thing, but from the times we fucked, drank, smoked, you show something more than this. I want to see more of it. If you really want to feel something then let me show you another way,” He offered, holding his hand out. 

Staring at him then his hand she took it with a small sigh,”I...I don’t know but...I’ll try,” She agreed to which Dabi smirked, ”That’s all you gotta do. Try,” He said, happy to finally have her do something other than this. If only she knew that though his sweet words and handsome promises of something better was still a fall. This man wasn’t good, healthy either. A shady drug dealing and maybe even murderous bastard he was but still, to her right now he looked nothing but an angel. Oh but if she only saw in the shadows how broken and fallen his wings actually looked. 

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[shutupandshipit]

Friends in a Storm - Oneshot

Summary:  At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

.....

Or where Izuku is afraid of storms and Katsuki isn't.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Author’s Note: So, I recently went through the first hurricane of my life. Our good old Cat 2 Hurricane Sally. I'm wasn’t too far from where the eye hit, and we got a fair bit of damage done to us, but nothing too severe. It was really interesting. I don't normally get anxious during storm (I actually really love them, they make me feel alive), but there was a moment when I was anxiously staring out the window and just had the thought, "This would be a lot nicer if I had someone's hand to hold." That feeling is what spurned the birth of this fic.

I hope you guys like it even though it's just a piddly little one-shot. If not, I'll enjoy it enough for all of us.

Katsuki jumped as thunder rolled over the dorms. Immediately following, something slammed into the side, rattling the entire building. The first thought that sprang to mind was that someone wandering around outside had gotten thrown into their dorm, which he dismissed as ridiculous.

Snarling, he stalked to the balcony door, but simply glared at it. He couldn't see through the glass at the moment anyway.

The sky had been dark and threatening to crack apart for days before the wind finally kicked up. It had been more than a decade since Musutafu had gotten hit with a typhoon, not such a strong one at least. The city wasn't really prepared even though they had seen it brewing on the horizon. The city got hit regularly from May to October by tropical depressions and storms, but a Category 2 typhoon? Not so much. Most of their parents hadn't been through such a strong storm before.

Massive flooding and minor building damage had been predicted with possible power and water outages.

That Monday, they'd returned from lunch and immediately been dismissed back to the dorms with a blunt, “If there's something you can't live without for the next three days, get it now. You won't be able to go anywhere by tonight.” Then Aizawa left to go help the other teachers prepare the rest of the buildings and faculty living quarters.

No matter their differences, when class 3-A needed to come together, they did. All together, they fortified the dorm windows and doors with steel plates Yaoyorozu made. Those with more strength based quirks or with strength applications (Katsuki, Izuku, Kirishima, Sato, Shouji, and Tokoyami with Dark Shadow) heaved around the plates in teams of two. Uraraka and Sero worked together to lift the plates to the upper story windows and leverage them in place. Mineta made himself useful by plugging up any possible holes around the plates and helping them stick better. The others with bodies and quirks less suited to manual labor booked it to the store to stock up on water, candles, snacks and food that didn't have to be cooked or only needed hot water. When they returned, everyone created a line to stack sand bags around the first floor just in case they were unlucky enough to get flooded.

By the time they were done, the rain had begun to fall and wind ripped harshly at their clothing. Dorm 3-A had been transformed into a literal fortress. Nothing would be able to knock it down.

Except maybe a Cat 2 typhoon.

Again, something slammed into the dorms, right into the steel plate over his balcony door. Storms didn't make Katsuki nervous normally, but anxiety pooled in his stomach from the simple fact that he couldn't see what was going on outside. And if he was anxious, he knew there was a specific nerd probably pissing himself at the moment.

Huffing, Katsuki stalked to his door. Izuku had never liked storms as a kid, and still didn't like them now. He had walked in on Izuku with a blanket over his head, sobbing as he tried to lose himself in hero videos more times than he cared to remember. And those had been with minor storms. Something like this...

Another crash jolted him into action.

Ripping opening his bedroom door, he stalked through the halls. He wasn't sleeping anyway. He'd originally retired to his room because the rest of the class had insisted on having a storm party in the common room and they were bound to be loud as fuck. He'd been tired, but there was no reason to avoid them when he wouldn't be able to sleep with a stomach full of snakes. Or with the now blooming worry over how Izuku was handling it.

When he got to the common room, he had to take a moment to survey the absolute disaster scene that the space had become. Blankets were strung up from wall to wall, creating forts over the couches and tables. The center of the common room had become a tent city in just a few hours. Candles sat on every available surface, some already lit in anticipation of the power going out, some waiting patiently for their time to burn. Bowls of popcorn and cans of soda littered the area. Multiple rounds of Rummy, Poker and simpler card games were going on all at once. The television fizzed static, a beacon over them all.

Crouching beside Kirishima with a scowl, he cut his eyes over his classmates looking for green curls. There were none. There wasn't even a lump of blankets large enough to plausibly be the nerd.

“Where's Deku?” he growled, and Kirishima jerked towards him in surprise.

“Man, I didn't even realize you were there.” He sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. It took him a moment of steadying breaths to register the question. “Oh, Mido? I don't know. Said he was going to study or something. Right, Mina?” He elbowed Mina to get her attention.

The most annoying game of telephone ensued until, from across the fort, Ochako called, “He said he wasn't feeling well so he went upstairs to rest.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki scoffed and stood again. No one called after him as he walked back towards the stairs -no fucking way he was getting stuck in the elevators if the power went out-.

Izuku had no right to call Katsuki stubborn when his prideful ass couldn't even admit that he was scared to his friends. Not that Katsuki had any room to talk, but Izuku liked to pretend they weren't similar just as much as Katsuki did.

As soon as he stopped in front of Izuku's door, the lights flickered. A quiet whimper sounded in the room, and Katsuki huffed a sigh.

He and Izuku were what some would call friends now. Friends of a sort. Friends that sometimes did intimate things that 'just friends' weren't supposed to do. They still struggled every day with what had been happening between them for years. And they weren't the kind of friends who did the whole touchy feely comfort thing. Their form of comfort was argument, struggle, beating each other to a pulp. Still, Katsuki always found himself at Izuku's door when he knew the nerd was having a hard time, and vice versa. The only difference this time was that he couldn't just drag Izuku to the training fields for a sparring session.

Katsuki knocked lightly on the door so he wouldn't startle Izuku, but he heard a squeak anyway. “Deku, open the door.”

There was a scuffle from inside the room, and slowly, the door cracked for Izuku to peak out at him. Green eyes stared back, bloodshot and red rimmed. Nose just a cherry on his face. “Kacchan?”

“Let me in the room, nerd. You're just going to leave me out here?”

“N-no,” Izuku stammered before stepping back and opening the door enough for Katsuki to slip in. Rubbing at his arms through a hoodie that suspiciously looked like the one Katsuki thought he'd misplaced several weeks ago, he asked, “Do you need something?” He wouldn't lift his head, avoiding Katsuki's eyes as he shuffled back to his nest of a bed. The remnants of a cocoon was crumpled in the middle.

“No.” Katsuki leaned against Izuku's desk, watching as he clambered back onto his bed. “Came to check on you since you weren't downstairs.”

“I'm fine.” Mumbled absolutely unconvincingly under his breath.

“Sure you are, nerd. You're always peachy during a storm.” Overhead, the lights flickered as thunder rolled and the building shook. Off, on, off, on, off, on and off again. This time, they stayed off. A stifled whimper floated across the room towards Katsuki, only making his already clenching stomach clench harder. Rolling his eyes, he pushed away from the desk. “You're such a dirty liar, Deku.”

“Leave me alone, Kacchan,” Izuku sniffled.

Katsuki didn't move, but still said, “Fine. I'll just leave then.”

Thunder rolled. Wind howled. Something crashed against the steel plates outside on Deku's balcony, and then stayed to do it over and over again.

“Wait!” Deku shouted into the blackness around them. “I'm sorry. Don't leave. Please.”

Stepping to the bed, Katsuki sank a knee into the edge and grabbed the hand he could feel outstretched towards him. “I was only joking, dumbass, I'm not actually going anywhere. Chill.”

“How am I supposed to 'chill' when we could die tonight?” Izuku's breath was a rapid staccato of pants, fingers forming fists in the front of Katsuki's shirt. “Did you know that a typhoon is essentially just another name for a hurricane? They all do the same thing and are made the same way, but just develop in a different part of the world. They can dump more than twenty inches of rain. Storm serge can rise up to six feet. Not to mention the wind strength just for a Category 1. A Cat 2 can be upwards of-”

Katsuki gently placed his palm over Izuku's mouth, silencing him. He could see Izuku now, his eyes having adjusted to darkness. He could see the wideness of his eyes, whites more visible than usual and tears spilling over his lashes. An animal terrified. “Izuku,” he said sternly, but soft around the edges, “You're freaking out. You're going to pass out if you don't get your breathing under control. We're going to be fine. The dorms are made of pure concrete with a solid structure, and the typhoon isn't strong enough to even rip the roof off. Do you understand? This is just your fear talking. Are you going to let your fear control you?”

Prying Katsuki's fingers from his mouth, Izuku whispered, “Fear is a good thing. It keeps you alive.”

“Not right now. Fear is good in a battle. On the job as a hero. Right now, it's just driving you up a fucking wall.”

Katsuki equally was and wasn't expecting when Izuku pressed their mouths together. Izuku was breathless before the kiss, and he was only more breathless during the kiss as he tried to suck away Katsuki's breath instead. Their tongues moved slowly against each other, scorching hot and slick.

When Izuku pulled away again, he was still panting, but slower this time.

“What was that for?” Katsuki asked softly, carding his fingers through Izuku's messy curls with one hand and cupping the side of his neck with another. He'd been pulled further onto the bed while they kissed, and Izuku had found a home in his lap. He kissed several stray tears from Izuku's cheeks.

This was the intimate stuff Katsuki was talking about. The kisses. The softness of voices. Hands in hair and hands on skin. Falling into each other over and over again because they didn't know any better. Or maybe they did know better, and just didn't care to heed the warning.

“I needed to stop thinking.” Izuku's eyes were closed, his breathing slowing to something more normal. With legs on either side of Katsuki's waist, he cupped the hand on his neck with his own and leaned his forehead against Katsuki's collarbone. “And the only thing that makes me stop thinking better than fighting you is kissing you.”

“So you're just using me then, nerd?”

Izuku hummed a non-reply, leaning into Katsuki's warm hand.

“Well, that's fine.” Pressing his mouth into the top of Izuku's head, he whispered, “You can use me all you want, as much as you want. Anytime. Any place.”

“Pinky promise?”

“We're not five anymore. I'm not making a shitty pinky promise with you.”

Izuku laughed, and turned his lips back up for another kiss.

They fell into each other just like they always did, letting that all encompassing fire consume them from the inside out. Their classmates didn't understand them which was fine because they didn't understand themselves most of the time. They were the rise and fall of a stormy sea. The hungry flames of a forest fire. The raging winds and cutting rain of a typhoon.

But what people always forgot -and sometimes they forgot too- was that seas always calmed and rain dried up and wind slowed and fires ran out of kindling.

At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

…..

Katsuki hadn't expected them to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, with the typhoon outside and what he would later come to find out was a piece of the gutter slapping against the steel plate. So, he definitely wasn't expecting to wake up to shuffling footsteps and weak candle light and giggling whispers.

With an arm over his eyes, he couldn't tell how many of his and Izuku's dumbass friends were in the room, but he knew it was too many. Just one of them would have been too many.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled lowly.

“Don't be like that, Kacchan,” Kaminari whispered jovially, “We just wanted to come check on you.”

“Well, you've done that. Now get the fuck out. Don't you have something better to do?”

“No, the storm is still going, power is still out and we got bored of games. You and Izuku weren't back, so we figured this would be a good alternative.” Mina's voice was chipper and far too loud for the bundle sleeping on Katsuki's arm.

He moved his arm just barely out of the way to glare at the assembled group; Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Ochako, Iida and lastly Todoroki. Half the fucking class was currently standing in Izuku's room like a bunch of dodos with a death wish.

Suddenly, Katsuki was very aware of his state of undress, and thankful Izuku hadn't hogged all of the sheets like he normally would. “Well, it was a terrible alternative. Find something else to go do before I blast every single one of you out into that storm to get thrown around.”

“Like a roller coaster. Sounds like fun,” Kirishima said, shit-eating grin plastered to his face. When Katsuki groaned, he laughed. Best friend that he was, he turned to herd the others out. “Okay, I think that's enough. Let them sleep or whatever it was they were doing. Who has whiteboard markers? Let's go play tic-tac-toe on the fridge.”

“We will absolutely not-”

Kirishima closed the door, silencing both the bereft groans of their classmates and Iida's reprimand.

Breath fluttered across the side of Katsuki's neck, closer than before, and he startled.

“Thanks for staying with me,” Izuku mumbled into his skin, closing the small distance between them. His eyes were still closed, voice soft with sleep. “You didn't have to. Storms are easier with another person though. I don't think they were meant to be gone through alone. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely not.” Katsuki was lying, and Izuku knew as he huffed out a laugh.

“Can we go on a hike after this is done? The sky is always bluer after a storm.”

A butterfly fluttered against Katsuki's breastbone, just the lightest brush of wings, at his thoughts in Izuku's mouth. He hummed, an agreement to both the question and statement, and pulled Izuku flush against his body.

[queer-crusader]

Okay update on my life since it seems talking about it doesn’t trigger another panic attack/breakdown:

So i graduated in july right

And with the end of uni, my student funding ends too

So i look for a job bc i cannot sustain myself otherwise

Except the economy is shit, because the UK is handling the pandemic almost worse than any other country in the world (we love that)

Knowing i’ll need some financial support to tie me over, i apply to universal credit

I also know my roommate, who i’ve lived with for 5 years, is moving out in october, and i will need to find someone to replace her or i end up paying £1000/month for living in this flat, which i don’t have of course

Job search becomes more frantic and exhausting and stressful

Also my dad started throwing up at some point and is eating less and is very specific about not upsetting his stomach. This is strange because he is known for his iron stomach and has not thrown up in years. I know my family history, i have my suspicions, but the doctor says it could be an ulcer. It could be fine, but my brain jumps to the worst-case scenario, because why wouldn’t it? More stress

Universal credit gets back to me - application denied

I think, hey, the category they filed me under seems wrong, i should be a habitual resident, not an EEA jobseeker, because i’ve lived here 6 years now. So i apply for an appeal, explaining the situation

Few weeks later, i receive a letter. Appeal rejected. It goes into detail how some rule that was set up in 2016 (Brexit year) lists all the reasons why just living here for 6 years, building up contacts, creating a future, feeling at home, being allowed to vote for Scottish parliament elections, is not good enough. Every sentence is like a punch in the gut. The letter boils down to fancy government words that translate to “you’re a freeloading immigrant who, according to our records, might as well be living in Fiji, and we’re giving you fuck all. Good luck surviving”

Full-blown breakdown ensues, because I’ve been fearing this ever since i arrived but was told by EVERYONE that that fear is ridiculous. I fit in, i belong, i sound English, i’m fluent, i’m passionate and well-educated about local politics, etc. I knew it wouldn’t be good enough. Race doesn’t matter; I’m European, and for the UK government, that’s good enough.

Anyway, cue the next day, and my mum phones me with news

My dad is in hospital. Turns out i was right - bowel cancer. He’s going into emergency surgery the very next day to get a tumour removed

I don’t sleep that night, for obvious reasons

Dad comes out of surgery fine, they got the whole thing, took some extra tests to see if it spread but it’s looking good so far. Meanwhile i have images of my dad, skinny as hell and with a tube up his nose seared into my brain

I fly home two days later to be with my family, who obviously need me

My dad is cleared of cancer, which is AWESOME, but we do learn that if the doctors had waited a couple days longer he could have had a perforated bowel. My mum is furious with the GP who underestimated the case

I get in touch with my landlady, saying “hey, this is my life right now, i am not in a position to search for a roommate replacement. Here’s the pics we took of the flat, can you look yourself? Also, if i don’t find a job by the end of the month, I may have to move out as well due to financial struggles, so keep in mind there’s a chance you’re going to have to look for two new tenants”

Landlady’s reply: “oh i can’t afford for the flat to be empty so i’m gonna sell it now”

So now i don’t even have an option of keeping the flat. I’ll have to move out, job or not. I can’t afford a new flat, and i can’t look for one bc a) pandemic and b) im in another country looking after my recovering dad (who is still losing weight btw, 15kg or 30-something lbs or 2.5 stone in a month, it’s horrible to see but at least he’s feeling a little better each day)

If i lose my flat, i may not be able to get a UK job. If i don’t get a UK job, chances are, i can not return to Scotland

6 years of living here, of building friendships, contacts and connections, skills for a career (which is also down the drain - theatre, an industry that is currently being killed by a lovely combo of the UK govt and the pandemic), a home, a love for the county, an intimate knowledge of the workings here, the language, the system, the stories, the history, i almost know the system here better than the Dutch one - my entire adult life. I may lose.

There is a chance i’ll be able to cling on, and god im fighting for it with the few spoons i have after all this stress, but the chance of me losing everything is equally plausible.

I have now flown back to Scotland where I put myself in self-isolation

In a week, my roommate will have moved out and i have 10 or so days left stuck in this place all by myself

I will spend this time packing up all my belongings, choosing what to take back to my parents’ place with me and what to put into storage, which i will pay for with my remaining savings and some financial support from the parents (they can’t afford much tho, my mum is unemployed and on benefits and my dad is a freelancer recovering from fucking surgery. I have no idea what their financial situation is right now, but apparently they’re okay-ish with their savings. Still, stress, and i don’t wanna burden them even more)

Then there’s the hope that the lockdown won’t have regressed back to that point where every plane is cancelled, and i’m stuck in this country without a place to call my home. (Don’t worry, i won’t end up on the street if this happens, I have friends willing to shelter me until i can fly home if they have to)

And once i’ve left, it’s only a question of when, and more promenently if, I’ll be able to return here, to Scotland.

I have never been this stressed, and i have never been this terrified. I am angry all the time (yes you can read that in Zuko’s voice lmao), I’m exhausted, and i’m fuelled by spite against prime minister Blow-Job and sheer stubbornness in refusing to feel like shit, because i just can’t be bothered with that. I just about manage to get through the day, to get up at a reasonable time, to feed myself, to shower, to exercise (because if i don’t, my wonky hip will give me hell and i’ll be in agony on top of my depression and anxiety. We love functioning bodies). But I’ll be okay. I’m trying to find solutions for everything, one step at a time. I’m taking care of myself the best i can. And if you wonder where my writing updates are, or my shitposts, or my ridiculously excited tags, then firstly, thank you for noticing ohmygod i love you, and secondly, know that i’ll be back. If God exists, know im kicking their ass. Fuck all this bullshit, my life is a mess but i REFUSE to let it stop me in my tracks. I’m too powerful, i am Brian David Gilbert’s interpretation of Sonic (either a god or can kill god and it doesn’t matter which). I’m gonna keep on truckin.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 25

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, anxiety, depression, panic attacks, alcoholism, drug addiction (pain medication)

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

Kyle arrives shortly before eleven; shirt untucked and wrinkled, carrying his shoes in his hands as he takes the beach back instead of the street.  

From where he stands at the kitchen table braiding Millie’s hair, Tyler can see him as he stands by the side of the pool; cheerfully greeting the twins and Ovi –with Declan in his arms- as they splash around. It’s trouble waiting to happen; whatever is going on between Kyle and the neighbor. As angry and annoyed as he is at Nik for years of drama and issues she’s tried to cause in his own relationship, she doesn't deserve to be treated like that. No woman does. Why cheat when you can just cut ties and do things the right way? There are no kids involved, no worrying about visitation schedules or child support or the long-lasting effects of a broken home. Whatever is going on, it won’t help well for anyone involved. Nik will be hurt and jilted, and she’ll end up on his doorstep. And that’s the last damn thing he wants OR needs.

“Where have you been?” Millie inquires, as Kyle wanders into the house. “And why do you look like shit?”

“Amelia...” Tyler frowns. “...what was the one rule for today?”

She sighs dramatically. “No bad words. But it’s true. He does look like shit.”

“Busy night?” Tyler asks his brother in law; hands working at twining and twisting his daughter’s thick hair together.

It’s a far cry from what his hands used to do, when they were primarily used for inflicting pain and punishment on others. When his knuckles would be torn apart; broken, bleeding, swollen. And as he gently drags the brush through Millie’s hair, he finds himself horrified that he’s even thinking about the job.  That his brain is playing the ‘then versus now’ game while his own flesh and blood sits in front of him; his ‘rainbow baby’ as Esme calls her. The very life that he’d help created while on the job. That had kept him going on the darkest and most trying of days.

He tries to fight it. That urge to get back into things. That powerful craving for something more. The intensity and the exhilaration.  Even the danger.

“Ow!” Millie cries, and tilts her head back to look up at him, fixing him with a furious glare. “That hurt! Why’d you pull my hair so hard?!

Fuck. He’s losing it. Or at least he feels like he is. First Ovi with his ‘wanting to try his hand at the job’ bullshit and then the reappearance of Nik in his life and the fucking nightmares and the incessant and desperate cravings for the Oxy and the booze. Now THIS. The reminiscing and the longing for his former life. This is not what he wanted. This is FAR from what he’d wanted. When he’d had his mental breakdown and walked away from New Zealand, he’d been determined to leave it all behind, the blood, the violence, the danger, the death. Content to be ‘normal’. More than happy to finally settle down and enjoy his role as a husband and a father. He wants to be the man they need. The man they want him to be. The man they deserve to have.

Now he’s slipping. All of his control, all of his willpower, all of his strength and his confidence. All abandoning him. Threatening to turn him back int the old Tyler; the one that couldn’t function without the booze and the pills. The one that willingly put his life on the line and took on whatever suicide mission he could; praying one day he’d catch a bullet and his miserable existence would be over.  

And he knows if he goes there...if he follows that path...this one will be lost to him forever.

“That hurt!” Millie pouts. “Why’d you do that?!”

“I didn’t mean to,” he attempts a lame apology. “I didn’t realize I was holding it that hard. I’m sorry,” he presses a kiss to the top of her head; right on the spot that she’s been gently rubbing.  He turns his attention back to the task at home, but finds his hands are now trembling; shaking with an intensity that both surprises and terrifies him, and he lets the brush fall to the table with a loud clatter. “Why don’t you go and get your mom to finish up,” he suggests, nervously wringing his hands together, tightly squeezing one, then the other; anxious for the tremors to stop. “She does a better job than I do.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Millie scoffs. “And she’s busy. With Addie.”

“I’m sure she’s got some time to finish your hair.”  Tyler sees the way Kyle is watching him; the way his head is cocked to the side and his are both curious and concerned. And he quickly shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Go ask.”

“I don’t want to,” his daughter argues. “I want you to do it. I want...”

“Amelia!” he snaps, harsher than he’d intended. “I said go and ask your mom!”

She blinks, then her mouth settles into a firm, grim line and tears glisten in her eyes. The guilt hits him immediately. She shouldn’t be the one paying the price for his issues; she doesn’t deserve to face the consequences of his burdens and his demons. She’s just a kid. A baby still. Innocent and pure. And none of this bullshit is her fault.

“Millie...I’m sorry...” he attempts to make amends as she shoves her chair backwards and springs to her feet.  “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t mean to...”

“Leave me alone!” she bellows, then stomps out of the room, both her angry, pounding footsteps and her sobs seeming to thunder through the house.

“Fuck me...” Tyler mutters, and rakes his hands through his hair and runs a palm down his face. The cravings are back; that crippling need for alcohol. Or the meds. Maybe even both.

“What the hell, man?” Kyle scowls. “That’s your fucking kid. Why talk to her like that?”

Tyler fixes him with a cold, harsh stare. “You need to mind your own fucking business.”

“That’s my niece. My sister is her mother. That makes Millie my business.”

“You don’t even have kids. Until you do, keep your mouth shut about mine. You don’t know what it’s like. This life. Being a dad.”

“I know that wasn’t you. That you’re not that kind of dad. The one that snaps on his kids. You’re usually the calm one. Patience of a saint. So what the fuck?”

Tyler sighs, hands on his hips as he briefly closes his eyes. There’s going to be hell to pay: a pissed off wife and a hurt, angry little girl. Kyle’s right. He IS usually the calm and patient one; he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s lost it on the kids. But his nerves are shot; the last remaining shred of sanity feeling as if it’s barely hanging on.

“You okay?” Kyle asks. “What was that with your hands? The shaking.”

“It’s the meds,” Tyler lies. “One of the side effects.”  

His hands used to twitch and move in his sleep; to the point it would wake Esme up.  She’d said it was like he was back on the battlefields in the Middle East or still on the job; hands and fingers going through the motions of handling a handgun or a rifle, loading magazines, pulling the trigger.  There are times it STILL happens. He can be completely relaxed while lying in bed or sitting on the couch or lounging on the beach and his right index finger moves on its own accord.  And he actually has to focus and concentrate on making it stop.  

“Haven’t you been on those for years?” his brother in law inquires. “If you’re still having side effects after this long, I’d get your ass to a doctor."

Tyler’s annoyed. On edge. And it causes him to immediately lash out. “Shouldn’t you still be out fucking the neighbor?”

Kyle smirks. “So now you’re going take your shit out on me? I may not be able to take you, but it won’t stop me from trying to kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Tyler retorts. “Why are you even here?”

“Esme called me. Asked if I’d help Ovi with the kids while you guys went out for a while.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean why are you HERE? In Australia.”

“I’m here to see my sister. And my nieces and nephews. I don’t get to do that very much since you decided to just pack them up and move them to the other side of the goddamn world.”

Tyler scoffs. “Don’t start that shit with me. I didn’t force your sister to come here. I didn’t put a gun to her head or give her some kind of ultimatum. We decided this together. She was the one who suggested it.”

“Same way she suggested it the first time?”

He frowns. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m talking about when she decided to give up her entire life to stay here. For some guy she’d just met.”

“She gave up a life?” Tyler gives a dry laugh. “What life? A mother that’s treated her like shit for nearly her entire life? Who stayed friends with an ex-husband that that used to beat her and force himself on her? You mean THAT life? She had no fucking life.”

“And you gave her one?” Kyle challenges. “Some guy that saw her as nothing more than an easy fuck and spent five days taking advantage of that in some shit hole motel in Bangladesh. Who probably wasn’t even going to bother with her once he got out of there?”

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. You have no idea what went down between me and Esme. Just what you want to believe. Or what mommy dearest put into your goddamn head.  I had every intention of continuing things with her. We had all kinds of plans; for what we were going to do after Dhaka. But we never got that chance, did we.”

“Yeah, how convenient,” Kyle snorts. “Things go completely to hell, she ends up staying here to play nursemaid to some guy she barely knew, finds out she’s knocked up...”

“Don’t talk about my wife or my kid like that,” Tyler interjects. “Don’t EVER talk about them like that.”

“And then you decide to do the right thing,” his brother in law continues. “The honorable thing. I’ll give you that much; you stepped up at least. You didn’t leave her alone and pregnant and make her a single mom.”

“Is that what you think I did? That I ‘stepped up’ and married her because of Millie? I married her because I loved her. And I stick around because I still love her. Because I’ll always love her.”

“Or because you’re too far in it now. Five kids make it pretty damn hard to walk away. Or is it your way of keeping HER from walking away? I mean, what better way to keep her around? Keep putting kids in her, keep her barefoot and pregnant...”

Tyler takes a step towards him; nostrils flaring, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re way out of fucking line, mate. Neither of us are stuck here. Either of us could walk away if we wanted to.”

“What mother is going to leave her kids? Tell me on mother who would do that. I’ll wait.”

“You think she sticks around because she feels like she has no other choice? Are you listening to yourself right now? You have no fucking clue what things are like between me and Esme. I stay because I love her. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with her. And I know...beyond the shadow of a fucking doubt...that she stays for the same reason. So fuck off with your bullshit. This is my house. You’re a guest here. So don’t walk in here like you own the place and start shit talking me. Or my wife. Or my kids. Because I will put you on your ass.”

“You threaten her like that, too? Is that how you keep her here? Scare her into being a perfect little submissive housewife? Does it make you feel like a big man picking on a little thing like her?”

Tyler’s nostrils flare once more; fists tightening so hard that the wounds on his knuckles -that he’s gained while working the heavy bag in the gym so hard- actually crack and begin to bleed. He feels how tense his shoulders are, how tight his jaw is clenched. And he knows Kyle is one more word...one more breath...away from getting himself into a situation he can’t possibly handle.

****

“That’s enough!”  Esme snaps from the doorway; holding a despondent Millie on her hip. The soon to be six-year-old is long and lanky; legs dangling well past her mother’s knees, toes almost touching her shins. “Kyle...what the hell...?”

“We were just having a discussion,” her brother says. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Bullshit. I was in the hallway. I heard almost all of your little discussion. How fucking dare you.”

“Mommy...” Millie mutters into her neck.  “...bad language.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Esme lays a hand on her daughter’s head and presses a kiss to her brow. “Do you think you could go outside for a little bit? Just for a few minutes. Mommy has some things to say and she doesn’t think you should hear them. Can you do that for me? Please?”

Millie nods.  

“Just for a few minutes,” her mother assures her, as she places her on the ground and then holds her face in her hands, pecking her lips. “And say out of the sand. You don’t want mess your dress up before grandpa gets to see it, okay?”

“Okay,” Millie agrees, and then sidestep her father’s hand when he reaches out for her. “No daddy. I’m still mad. I love you, but I don’t like you very much right now.”

“Wow...” Kyle comments, as his niece stomps from the room and throws the patio door open –and slams it closed- with enough force to rattle the glass pane. “Six-ish going on sixteen-ish. Wonder where she gets THAT attitude from.”

“First off, fuck you Kyle,” Esme snaps. “Fuck you and your self-righteous, mom like bullshit. Coming here and thinking you can say the shit I heard come out of your mouth.”

“What I said? You know what he said?” he gestures towards Tyler. “To his own kid?! How he made her cry?”

“Oh, she told me all about that. And believe me, Tyler is going to catch shit for it, and he knows it. When we’re alone and we don’t have nosey, judgmental assholes all up in our shit. It’s none of your goddamn business what goes on around here.”

“You’re my sister,” Kyle argue. “That makes it my business.”

“Like hell it does! I’m a grown ass woman. With children. So treat me like one. And second of all, fuck you again. For talking about me like you were. Never mind that, for talking to my husband like you were. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Did you hear anything he said? Or just me?”

“He was defending me. Defending US. Don’t try throwing Tyler under the bus when I heard nearly every goddamn word.  An easy fuck? That's how you see your own sister?”

He sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that...”

“Tyler didn’t take advantage of me. Not in the slightest. We were two consenting adult and we wanted to fuck each other so we did. What we did during those five days has no bearing on you. None whatsoever. You have no clue what went on. The things we talked about. The plans we made. And we had them. Plans. To get to know one another the right way. To travel and to spend time learning about one another. But we never got that chance.”

“Esme...I....”

“You weren’t in Dhaka,” she continues, and wanders over to the sink; dampening the dish cloth and offering it to Tyler; so he can clean the open wounds on his knuckles.  And he accepts it with a small, grateful smile and leans back against the island. “We were. You weren’t on that bridge You have no idea how bad things were and how bad things got and how worse they could have been. So keep your goddamn mouth shut about Dhaka.”

“All I was trying to say was...”

“I’m talking now, Kyle. It’s my turn. You’re in my house. And you will not disrespect me and you sure as hell will not disrespect the father of my kids. I stayed here after Dhaka because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be with Tyler. Because he needed someone to be there for him. Because busted his ass to get me out that god awful shitty mess and the least I could do was stick around and make sure he didn’t die alone. Because he almost did. Not just on that bridge, either. I stayed because I wanted to. Simple as that.”

“Fine,” Kyle throws his hands up in exasperation, and moves towards the patio door. “You did what YOU wanted. You didn’t care about the people you left behind. You were immature and selfish and...”

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Esme steps in front of him. “You got yourself into this mess, you’re going stick with it until the bitter end. You come in here and talk shit? Well now you’re going to get it right back. I had a shitty ex-husband who liked to rape and beat on women and a narcissistic bitch of a mother and older brothers with their heads so far up her ass....”

“Baby...”  Tyler steps forward, using his shoulder to shove Kyle out of the way so he can stand in front of her; hand settling on her hip. “...settle down, okay? Just stay calm. I know you’re pissed...”

She ignores him. “I made a life for myself in Australia,” she informs her brother. “I became a wife and a mother and I’m sorry if you think that’s selfish of me for choosing that over my shitty existence in Colorado. And selfish? Because I did what I wanted for a change instead of what everyone else expected of me? That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re just upset I’m not under your thumb anymore. That’s all you’re pissed about. You and mom.”

“You’re going to resort to shit talking her? She’s practically on her death bed and you’re going to stoop that low?”

“I don’t give a shit about her. The second she wished death on my husband...the father of her grandchildren...it was over between us. She’s not my mother, Kyle. She hasn’t been my mother in years. Maybe she never was. And I don’t care that she’s dying. Maybe it’s karma. Maybe she finally is getting what she deserves.”

“Okay...that’s enough...” Tyler gently orders. “...let’s not say shit you know you’re going to regret.”

“It’s too late for that,” she says. “The second my brother opened his goddamn mouth when it comes to things he has no clue about. I’m not trapped here, Kyle. He's not some fucking predator like Mark was. What do you think Tyler’s doing? Hiding my birth control or poking holes in condoms just so he can get me pregnant? That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit in the past thirty-five years.”

“Baby....stop...this has gone too far...” Tyler’s hands are on the side of her face, thumbs brushing away the tears she hadn’t even realized she was shedding. “...stop, okay? You’ve said enough.”

“He has no clue! Absolutely no clue!”

“I know. And you getting this upset is not going to change that. Just let it go. It’s not worth it; getting this riled up.”

“He has no idea. What we’ve been through. What went down in Dhaka and on that bridge.”

“We don’t need to talk about that. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know what happened. And he doesn’t need to know. It was almost seven years ago. Let’s not talk about Dhaka.”

“You almost died,” her words manage to come out through choked, angry sobs. “On a dirty fucking sidewalk with my fingers shoved in your neck trying to stop you from bleeding out. You almost died right in front of me.”  

“But I didn’t,” he firmly reminds her. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

“And you almost died in the hospital. During surgery. Twice. And he has the goddamn nerve to act like it was no big deal? That is so fucking disrespectful to you and what you went through and what you still go through.”

“Esme....” Kyle attempts to step around his brother in law but meets resistance. “I’m sorry.  I....”

“Don’t touch her,” Tyler calmly orders. “Don’t even talk to her. You have no clue what’s going on right now.  Stay out of it. I’ve got it under control.”

“You do? Because it doesn’t fucking look like it.”

“Would you just shut the fuck up and go and do something else while I deal with this? You have no clue what she’s talking about or why she’s talking about it.  So back off.”

“She’s my sister! If there’s something I can do for her...”

“Leave her alone. That’s the best thing you can do for her. Leave her alone and let me deal with it. It’s PTSD, you fucking idiot. You can’t just jump in and fix shit. Fuck. Just let me deal with it.”

  This hasn’t happened in months; where the mere mention of Dhaka triggers such a powerful reaction. The last time had been at the therapist’s office, when Esme was asked about her most painful memory of the last ten years. That had led to a full out meltdown complete with hyperventilating and vomiting. After that the therapist had helped them come up with ‘plan of attack’; highlighting the warning signs and how he could either help talk her down before things escalated, or calm things once they got out of control.

“I just want him to leave,” she struggles to draw breath. “Make him leave. Please.”

“He’s just worried about you,” Tyler attempts to reason. “He’s your brother and he loves you and he’s worried about you. Don’t even pay attention to him. Pretend he’s not even here. Pretend it’s just us in the room and no one else.”

“I can see him though,” panic is starting to set in. “I know he’s here.”

“Close your eyes, then,” Tyler cradles her face in his hands and tilts her head up towards him. “Just close your eyes and listen to my voice, okay?”

She nods, her hands coming up to tightly grip his forearms as she allows her eyes to flutter closed. And he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose and rests his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay, baby...” his voice is quiet, keeping the volume low and the tone steady and soothing. “We’re not in Dhaka anymore. It’s over. It’s all behind us now. We don’t ever have to go back there. We made it out. Both of us. We’re both here. And that’s all that matters. We both made it.”

*****

Within minutes she’s settling; her body ceasing to tremble, her tears stopping, her breathing returning to normal.  And when the crisis has passed, sweat is glistening on her forehead and her skin is a pale, deathly gray.  

He kisses her forehead once more, followed by her lips.  “You okay now? You gonna be alright?”

Nodding, she manages a small smile.

“Go outside and get some air. You’ll feel better. I’ll get you some water and your meds, okay?”

“Okay,” she feebly agrees, and he places his lips against cheek and runs a hand over her hair.  

“Leave her,” he snarls at Kyle, when he attempts to step into her path. “For fuck sake, just leave her alone.”

Kyle backs off, holding his hands up in surrender. Then waits for his sister to step and is out of earshot before speaking again. “What the hell was that?” he asks, as he follows Tyler into further into the kitchen. “Like what the fuck?”

“It happens every so often when she’s stressed about something. Usually it has to do with Dhaka. When some fucking shit for brains brings it up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle mutters. “Was it really that bad?”

Tyler scoffs. “Oh, I don’t know, mate. She had to stick her fingers in my neck so she could pinch a vein off to stop me from bleeding out all over her. What do you think?”

“I guess I didn’t. Think.”

“Yeah no shit. You have no idea what went down over there. Everything she went through. Everything she saw. Especially on that bridge. So do me a favor and don’t bring it up. Ever.”

“I never realized it was THAT bad, I guess.”

“How could you not have realized it? You know I almost fucking died. That she was the one that saved me. She’s your sister. How could you not realize that would have fucked her right up?”  He yanks the fridge open, snagging a bottle of water before shutting the door with his hip, then grabs a prescription bottle from a cupboard near the stove.  “She was dealing with it just fine until all this shit with Ovi started. And let’s not even get into what happened when Nik decided to pop back up.”

“You know she says you guys were fucking, right? Within the last six and a half years. Since you and Esme got married. She told me. That you her and have been hooking up.  Least a dozen times. If not more.”

“She’s full of shit. I haven’t fucking touched her since I met your sister. I wouldn’t cheat on my wife. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater.”

“I’m not saying I believe her. Not in the slightest. I don’t think you would. Fuck around on Esme. I mean you’ve done some shitty things, but I don’t think you’d do THAT.”

“I wouldn’t. Ever. Not even in the six months when we were separated did I even think about cheating on her, let alone actually do it. I’m not crazy. I know what I have. I’m not losing it.”

Kyle nods slowly as he considers Tyler’s words. “I just thought you should know. In case she calls her or shows up trying to cause shit.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck have you done?”

“What I should have done that night after Esme called Nik out at dinner. I told her it was over That it just wasn’t going to work. That we’re just too different and her career doesn’t exactly leave room for a marriage, let alone a successful one.”

“So it’s done? Totally? You and her?”

“It never should have started in the first place. It was a bitch move. Getting mixed up with someone who tried to ruin my sister’s life.”

Tyler smirks. “You think?”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad she didn’t. Screw things up with you and Esme. I mean, you can be a real dick, but I know you love her. And I know she’s happy here. That she’s happy with her life. As a wife and a mother.”

“I like to think she is. Happy. And she’s amazing at both. I’m lucky. Even if that’s something I don’t say often enough.”

“It’s all I want for her, you know. To be happy. Especially after all that shit with Mark.”

“We try not to talk about that around here either. And look, no offence, but when I tell you I’m dealing with something...when I say I’ve got things under control...fucking listen to me the next time. Because I live with her. I’ve been living with her for almost seven years now. I’ve been the one with her through all the bullshit and all the hard times. All the nightmares and the panic attacks and the freak outs. I’ve been the one dealing with all of that. You just made shit worse. I would have had her talked down a lot sooner but you just kept escalating shit. When I tell you to back off, just do it.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle agrees.

“You and the neighbor, huh? Is that the real reason you broke things off with Nik?”

Kyle follows him through the kitchen, out into the living room and towards the patio door. “There’s nothing between Salena and I. Nothing serious, anyway. We’re just having a good time.”

Tyler smirks. “You mean your dick’s having a good time.”

Kyle gives a sly grin.

“Mine had a good time last time last night too, so...”

“Jesus Christ,” his brother in law scowls. “That’s my sister.”

“I’ve made five kids with your sister. I think it’s obvious we have sex.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to hear about it. Or think about it.”

“Look...” Tyler pauses, fingers curling around the handle of patio door.  “I don’t know what’s going on with you and the neighbor and I honestly don’t give a shit, but I’m going to be pissed if Nik shows up to cause problems. I don’t need that crap. Esme especially doesn’t need it. We’ve got enough going on without having to put up with her.”

“I told her not to bother you guys. To leave you both out of it.”

“Yeah? And when does Nik ever do what she’s told? You trying to tell her what to do probably just pissed her off even more. I just don’t want that shit here. Around my wife and my kids.”

“Think she’ll call Esme? Tell her the same thing you told me? That you guys were hooking up.”

“She better hope she doesn’t. And you better not say anything to your sister, either. Because it’s not true. I’ve never cheated on her. I never will. So if you don’t keep your mouth shut....”

“Won’t say a word,” Kyle promises. “I don’t understand how it even got this far. Nik wanting on your dick for this long.”

“Well if you saw my dick, you’d understand. I mean, it’s kept your sister around, right?”

Kyle smirks. “So did she catch the feels or something? Nik?”

“Guess so.”

“But you never did.”

“I never saw her as anything more than a boss or a friend. We used to fuck. That’s it. Nothing serious. I never wanted it to be. She never got like this until after Esme and I got together. It pissed her off that we were fucking on the job. And then it pissed her off even more when things went further than that. Guess she thought I’d never settle down.”

“Or if you did, you’d settle down with her.”

“Who knows. Doesn’t matter anyway. I never saw her that way. I never saw anyone that way until your sister came along. I’d already done the marriage thing. Once was enough. I pretty much avoid forming any kind of connection with someone. No one needed to get mixed up in that kind of mess.  Never met a woman that could put with it; the job and everything that came with it. It needed to be someone pretty fucking strong. No one I ever met fit that bill.”

“Weak women need not apply, huh?”

“Pretty much. Then your sister came along and...”  he shrugs. “...I don’t know...here we are.”

“Almost seven years and five kids later,” Kyle concludes. “Think there might be a six?”

“Why are you so hung up on us having another kid? Addie's only three weeks. Still new.”

“Make it a nice even number,” Kyle reasons. “Half a dozen. You haven’t thought about it?”

“A couple times, maybe.”

That’s a lie; over the past three days he’s thought about it at least a few dozen times. But he’s not sure if he actually wants a sixth one, or that the idea of getting dragged back into the unpredictability and the danger of the job makes him feel as if he NEEDS to have another. A way of ‘cementing his legacy’.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to talk your sister into it,” Tyler says. “She already gave in the last two times I changed my mind.”

“This thing that happened...” Kyle gazes out the window, nodding towards where his sister sits at the top of the patio stairs, arms wrapped around her slender form. “...the PTSD or whatever. She’ll be okay, right?”

“She usually is. Takes about a half hour, hour, before she’s back to normal.”

“Will it ever go away? Or is just something she’ll have to learn to live with?”

“It’s pretty damn permanent,” Tyler reluctantly admits.

And he both blames and hates himself for it.

[whatamievendoingherern]

TALKING TO EXPLOSION BOY (BNHA)

Cat: Lil floof and if you squint, angst

Agender! Reader was nervous about their internship with Thirteen already, but throw in the sparky porcupine? Anxiety maxed out. But surprisingly, he just isn’t as explosive as usual. (Reader has a fire related quirk)

Y/N remembered when they first decided to try out for cross country.

It was the summer before 8th grade when they vowed to make themself into a person they could like. Their sister had given them a ride to the school, they’d retied their sneakers about fifteen times on the way, and they’d practically had a death grip on that poor plastic water bottle.

They’d been so nervous that they refused to get out of the car. They remembered knowing absolutely nobody on the team, feeling so socially inept because they hadn't talked to anybody all summer. It wasn't until their sister reassured them that they finally found themself unlocking the door.

That's what they thought internships were gonna be like.

But rather than the hellish experience their middle school self endured, it was quite different.

They chose to intern with Thirteen to learn how to use their quirk in rescue scenarios. Thirteen, who they’d recently learned went by xe/xyr pronouns, was a pretty nice person, who took their wall of awkwardness and formality into consideration.

Y/N was finally letting the wall drip down a bit, allowing Thirteen to see their real personality. And the acceptance was nice.

That's why they didn't really mind it when Thirteen said xe needed to drop by Best Jeanist's agency. Something to do with the author and plot lines.

So they followed Thirteen through the building, politely smiling at the passersby they happened to make eye contact with. The two stopped at a door in the building, pushing it open, and just like that feeling of finding someone you know in your home town, Y/N felt like they’d been smacked with frying pan.

Bakugo and Y/N made eye contact from both sides of the room, a silence as his hair sprung back to its normal state.

Oof.

If the rest of the Bakusqud were here, Y/N probably would've been able to sneak in a laugh under Mina, Sero, and Kaminari’s cackling, but alas that was not the case. And despite the self destructive ramblings of Y/N’s rather common mental breakdowns, they valued their life.

Best Jeanist sighed as though this weren't the first time this occurred, flicking his comb into his pocket. "Thirteen." He said in greeting. "What brings you here?"

"I just need to do some touch ups on the paperwork for the collab takedown we did last week. Turns out the villains quirk wasn't energy mutation." Xe replied, while Y/N suddenly begun to wish they had Hagakure's quirk instead as Bakugo’s eyes burned into their skull.

"Is that your intern?"

Uh oh.

"Yep," Thirteen said, pushing Y/N forward much to their dismay. "They’ve got quite the quirk."

Best Jeanist hummed in response, having been there in the stadium. He remembered sending them an invite to intern with him after the festival, but he supposed they were searching for something specific.

"You two are in the same class right?" Best Jeanist asked. Y/N stiffened as he acknowledged Bakugo's presence. Without waiting for a response, he carried on, "You two stay here. Thirteen, the reports in my office."

And despite every cell in their body yelling at the two to stay, the door closed behind the two leaving both Bakugo and Y/N in immediate discomfort.

Silence.

Y/N looked around the room at anything and everything except for Bakugo. They spotted a chair, the only other one in the room placed right across from the blonde porcupine.

With an internal groan, they shuffled over to the chair, sitting uncomfortably still as they pulled out their phone. They stared at the screen, pretending to be doing something while attempting to negotiate a ceasefire with the whatever deity above was listening.

Whatever I did to deserve this, I am so sorry. It'll never happen again, bro, just get me tf outta here rn before my soul skrrt skrrts from my body-

Oh no, now their nose was itchy. The temptation was there, but the risk of drawing attention was even greater. Were they gonna sneeze? Were there tissues in here? Jeez did hearts always beat so loudly? And what is up with the whole breathing thing? It sounds like there's gonna be a whole goddamn tornado-

"Hey. Depressed Flambé."

Y/N hesitantly looked up from their screen, wondering if they placed their funeral plans in an obvious enough location. Top left drawer of their dresser, beneath their will. Dang they forgot to write if they wanted red camellias or white camellias. Surely class 1-A would know they were a red camellias type of lad. And they had to change the song from "Thriller" to "E-Girls Are Ruining My Life", ya know, get with the times-

"I know you're avoiding me. Your damn phone isn't even on." Bakugo's brash voice said, and they suddenly felt like dropping an anvil on their head.

Y/N gave a smile that may as well have said, "I've been caught" and tucked the phone into their pockets where their hands could fidget out of view.

Silence.

Depressed Flambé, Y/N pondered.

They hadn't thought they had a nickname, they figured since they had barely interacted with him all year that they were in the clear.

Guess not.

Their thoughts and the room stayed radio silent for a bit before they hesitantly spoke up, "Trying out a new hair style?"

"Mention it to the rest of 1-A and I’ll kill you!" He barked defensively, huffing when he saw them flinch almost unnoticeably. "He won't let me patrol with him until I 'reform my appearance' or some bullshit like that."

Y/N nodded, though they didn't really see much difference. He was intimidating either way, one just made him look a little more idiotic. "Some bullshit sounds about right." Y/N replied, trying to let themself relax.

Bakugo seemed content with their response, and once again the two fell into silence. And just like a hand reaching out, they felt their voice wanting to come out, to keep talking, but maybe he didn't want to. Maybe it'd be better to take the chance and have no regrets later? But what if he just told them to shut up? They probably would never get over that. It was probably best if they-

"How's your internship?" Bakugo asked, clearly uncomfortable with asking the question. He wasn't even making eye contact which was supposed to be Y/N’s thing.

By the author's grace, was this the power of those behind the divine fourth wall?

"It's good!" Y/N said, a little too quickly for their liking.

Stupid social anxiety.

"Um, Thirteen's trying to teach me how to use my quirk in rescues." They added slowing their words, before their voice lowered into a murmur. "I just kind of wish I knew that they don't really teach fighting techniques."

"Well why don't you teach yourself?" He asked.

Why do you have such good hearing, they thought. "I mean I tried a while ago, but I wouldn’t know where to start."

"Is the phone you were using to avoid me just for show or can you actually use it? Just look some up or walk yourself to a library."

OML THIS IS A HISTORICAL MOMENT HE GOT THROUGH A SENTENCE WITHOUT CURSING OR INSULTING ANYBODY IM SO PROUD OF YOU, BRO, WE NEED TO CELEBRATE THIS MOMENTOUS OCCASION- "I guess that make sense." Y/N replied, sheepish but surprised.

They really thought it would be like that first day at cross country. Like everyone would be looking at them, judging them, ostracizing them. But it was all their head, just as it was then, just as it was now.

There was a gap of (you guessed it) silence, but this time it was less awkward, more...comfortable.

"It's too bad, Best Jeanist, isn't what you thought he would be." Y/N said.

He hummed in response.

"It seems more like he's trying to change you than train you." They thought aloud.

"It's annoying. I wish he'd finish this damn haircut, so I can skip to the fun part, and kick somebody’s ass."

Y/N snorted audibly. "If it's about getting it to stay, I think I can help."

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, which before may have had them thinking they were on his kill list, but now not so much. "You do hair?"

"I mean, I take care of mine almost every morning, and I'm pretty good with gel at this point so why not?" They shrugged.

"Hurry up then, I don't want to have to do this for any longer than I have to."

"Your hair is surprisingly soft."

"Shut up, Flambé!"

"Seriously, what conditioner do you use?"

"I WILL BLOW YOU UP RIGHT NOW!"

•••

"Thanks for stopping by Thirteen, it's been nice." Best Jeanist said, as the two stepped out of his office.

Thirteen replied. "No problem. See you around."

The two turned to the other duo and though neither visibly shown it, the surprise remained present.

"Did you do his hair?" Thirteen asked in mild confusion.

Best Jeanist was past the point of mere confusion, he was borderline baffled. "You fixed it?!"

Y/N tucked away a comb granted by the author, "Magic."

"Are we gonna patrol now or what?" Bakugo asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

Even though it looked borderline evil, Y/N was still pretty proud they made him smile. Even if he looked like he was about commit a homicide.

A/N Feel free to hit me up via anything if you have any requests. Whether it’s headcanons, scenarios, or different pronouns lemme know! I really like writing these and wanna make everybody feel ✨comfy✨💕

[packsbeforesnacks]

Unbreakable Oaths || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Monday, May 25th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: The Outskirts PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: RIP Blanche Harlow, 1999-2020 WARNINGS: None.

Winn was lying on his back, in a small clearing in the woods near his home, sunlight casting shadows from the trees and onto his body. Meditation, all the latest psychological research showed, was effective in helping lessen symptoms of depression and anxiety in some patients. He wondered if the same was true for wolves. His stress levels, and his temper, were well-managed things. The easy-going, affable version of himself that he presented to the world — that was him. So, then, why, with Salva, had he…? Had he thought he could... kill. Winn didn’t have answers, none he liked. What he did have was standing plans with Blanche to spend part of Memorial Day “training.” Blanche needed to see a werewolf, up close, to see the shift, to see the movements of his body, to get a real sense for what she could be dealing with. She wasn’t a Hunter, not by a long shot, but every scrap of information she took in could prove useful if she ever found herself facing down the maw of another wolf. The best way, Winn figured, was the old-fashioned way, mock-fighting against him safely. So Winn needed, for both of their sakes, to be safe, to be calm. He’d already lined this up with his powers at their lowest. But, more than some, Winn knew things could go wrong in an instant. As Blanche approved, his ears perked up. But he didn’t rise. Not yet.

What a way to spend a part of Memorial Day. Blanche almost canceled on Winn. She almost told him that it was a bad idea, that she shouldn’t be trying to fight him off, that it was dangerous… But it was Winn, and she had seen Ariana shift at the beach to fight off that damn lobster. Honestly, it would be nice to blow off some steam. With Bea’s death, with Nell… Blanche had parked her car outside of Winn’s house, before hiking to the small clearing where Winn told her to meet him. Exhaustion clung to her, and she knew she would spend the better part of the night looking for any sign that Bea’s soul decided to stick around. There was nothing so far. And that was probably the most frustrating. Blanche squinted, coming through the trees as she concealed a yawn. “Winn,” Blanche called. Her tone was flatter than normal, and Blanche almost winced, trying to make her next words sound more enthusiastic. “What gives? Are we going to take a nap?” Actually, a nap didn’t sound bad.

The first thing that Winn noticed about Blanche was that she looked… tired. Guilt panged in his heart. He knew things with Adrien had been bad, but they’d talked about that, so… What new horror had this fuckin’ town decided to pull on Blanche? Winn stood, stretching out his still-human body and rolling his neck. Whatever had happened, he knew she’d open up slowly, so he went for the obvious ribbing: “You look like you need a nap, B. Hope you’re ready to get movin’! This ain’t your mama’s gym class.” Winn hesitated, a half-smile frozen on his face, considering… Safe. This was supposed to be safe. But… Would Blanche had even come if she wasn’t ready to do this? Probably not; they’d never had a problem cancelling this little dance party before, one thing or another popping up and throwing a wrench in their weekends. “I was takin’ a little doze in the sunlight, gotta get my beauty rest, after all.” He let the half-smile turn to a full one. “Alright, so, I’m gonna start you off… simple. Let you get acquainted with the wolf, sorry in advance for the sniffin’. Then, when you’re ready, we can move on to you tryin’ to land a blow on me, while I’m movin’... After that, well, maybe I’ll try to trip you up or somethin’, but I don’t want my claws anywhere near ya, dude, and neither do you. Just watch me and everything’ll go smoothly.” Hopefully.

“Watch it, my mom goes to jazzercise, and those bitches are mean,” Blanche responded automatically. She rolled her shoulders back, feeling them pop and ache. She’d been sleeping in Nell’s greenhouse for way too long, with what little sleep she was getting anyway. Blanche took a look at him a moment, considering. “You sure you don’t need a few more minutes in the sunlight for that beauty rest?” Blanche said. She was trying. At least she was trying. She needed to do something. Maybe this wasn’t it, but as Winn beamed at her, she wasn’t sure she could say no. It would be fine. “Good thing I showered before I came. You’re going to sniff me?” Blanche asked, raising an eyebrow at him, mildly amused at the thought. But she nodded. “Yeah, I saw one of you guys shift at the beach the other day when a karkinoid got a little too close to comfort. Don’t worry, I’m prepared.” Blanche would be lying if she said she wasn’t ready to watch Winn like a hawk. She had been a little too hypervigilant these days anyway. She doubted she’d even be able to land a real hit. What was she going to do? Kick him?

“Jazzercise,” Winn said, cocking an eyebrow at Blanche’s easy mention of her mother. Odd. File that away for a later conversation, if it actually meant anything. “Pretty sure some of the PTA moms go there, so, like mean bitches is, uh, accurate.” He shuddered, as per usual, at the thought of those women. It wasn’t that they were, like, the worst. Just the worst thing he had to routinely deal with. One good thing ‘bout the summer. “And, like, the sniffin’ just… happens, okay? Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s a wolf thing.” Speaking of wolf things… “Wait, who’d you meet on the beach? I might know ‘em. Don’t know all the wolves in town, but it don’t hurt for me to know more.” Instead of waiting for Blanche’s answer, he turned his back to her and let the shift come on. Closer to the new Moon, Winn felt the ache of it more. The ways in which his body was growing, adjusting to the beast within him. He stared at Blanche when he was done, waiting patiently for her to make the first move.

And there was the wince when Winn mentioned the PTA. Her mom was a PTA mother. Probably a bad thing to joke about, but she wasn’t wrong. The PTA moms were mean. Her stomach twisted a moment when she thought of Linda Quinn, the other star mother, and she had to shake it off. Maybe, Blanche decided as she remembered the horrible things Rio had shown her, all PTA mothers were evil. She sucked in a deep breath, and tried to focus on what Winn was saying. “I think you just like my scented body wash,” Blanche folded her arms over her chest, grinning. Oh, wait, she could tell Winn who she met. “Yeah, you do know her. It’s Arian—ah.” Blanche trailed off as Winn shifted. Well. There it was. She took an automatic step back as her eyes narrowed. Winn was less likely to attack her, but Blanche couldn’t believe Winn wanted her to just waltz up to him and punch him in the snout. And she sort of felt a little ridiculous. This felt a little ridiculous! Kaden and Adam would have simultaneous strokes if they knew they were doing this. That was fine by her, she supposed. “Okay…” Blanche said, slowly, “I’m going to try to hit you now.” It was fine. They didn’t have to find out. On the balls of her feet, Blanche jerked forward and really did try to punch Winn in his werewolf face.

Aaaand a miss. Winn hadn’t been expecting to take it on the snout, not with Blanche’s first punch anyway, but… well, he might have more work to do here than he thought. The wolf was front and center — calm, but mostly because it didn’t sense any threat from Blanche… at all. C’mon, brain, give her more credit than that. Maybe they should’ve started in human form? Get Blanche comfortable punchin’ Winn’s face before askin’ her to aim at the beast. But, well. They were here now, and Winn wasn’t gonna change back until he could get back to his house and tell B to cover her eyes. There were just things that you didn’t want your more-or-less-sister-figure to see. Okay. He’d stay… still. He wouldn’t move. He’d just let him hit her. It literally wouldn’t hurt. The wolf grumbled, unhappy with even being hit at all, but Winn powered through. He approached Blanche, slowly, so slowly. There was no way she could miss.

This was a goddamn waste of time. Blanche realized that as soon as they started. She wasn’t opposed to kicking the crap out of something, but this wasn’t it. She was too tired to be trying to punch a werewolf in the face. She wasn’t a hunter, this wasn’t her job. Why did she need to be prepared if something attacked her in the first place? She would just die, and then it would be over. Isn't that what happened to Bea and Nell? Nell walked away from it traumatized, but Bea was headless and stuck in some fucking freezer somewhere. Bea, who couldn’t be bothered to show up to her own fucking summoning. They continued for a while, back and forth, Blanche slipping each time before she finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Alright! Enough! I’m done!” Blanche snapped, frustration finally built up enough to snap, holding up her hands and then running them down her face, muffling her next words: “I’m just going to go home.”

To say that this was going… poorly was an understatement. It was clear that Blanche was more tired than she let on. Winn should’ve stopped, but his wolf-brain was in the driver’s seat. And the wolf wanted exercise. At its best, this was play-fighting, something that the two of them could look back on and laugh when Blanche eventually kicked his ass. When he had a player who just wasn’t getting it, there were two options: keep pushing or back off. So, he kept coming at her, and she kept missing. By the time she raised her hands in defeat, Winn was just about ready to let her throw in the towel. Had she kept her damn hands outta her eyes, he probably woulda. But that was fuckin’ dangerous and Blanche needed to— He couldn’t let her— This was safe. He was safe. But real life was fuckin’ dangerous, and if she was hell-bent on gettin’ into messes and putting herself at risk, then she needed to be prepared. All of this was in the back of his mind as he ran at her again, loud, loud thuds on the ground as he bounded up to Blanche, paws up in an obvious “Gotcha!” and a toothy smile on his maw. He’d just give her a little scare, and then they’d stop and come back at it again.

Winn scared the shit out of her. Blanche had just said she was done and was going to stop, but the next thing she knew was there was a wolf running at her, teeth bared. She panicked, scrambling backward, and screamed long and loud as she shoved her hands out in front of her as blood pounded in her ears. Like others before, Winn was thrown away from Blanche. The familiar energy under her skin burst from her as her adrenaline laced fear shoved Winn away from her. Blanche scrambled back, eyes wide as she watched Winn connect with a tree. Shit. Was he fucking stupid?! She said she wanted to stop! “Winn!” Blanche snapped, but things didn’t feel right. Like she had just lifted something that was far too heavy and carried it anyway. She staggered. “Shit—”

Winn remembered the force hitting him, his back connecting with a tree, and then—

The wolf crumpled to the ground, a low growl buried in the back of its throat, coming out slow and dangerous. Pain, like it had fallen down a mountain. Nothing was broken, it would be fine. But it would not underestimate this human again. It snarled, teeth bared, hackles raised, as it rose from the ground, eyes finding the human and narrowing. The human shouted something foreign to it, something in its own language, crude and loud. The wolf gnashed at the air, the tiniest of warnings. The Moon would come, soon, and it would stain the earth with blood as it bit. It always savored the snap of bone, the chase that it would give the human through the forest, its home territory. The wolf howled, rage bounding into the air, an offering to the sky. And then, it ran at the human. Nothing would stop it from its prey.

The only thing that Blanche could think of were Lauren Langley’s insides pouring out of her as she showed Blanche her true form. Werewolf attack. Kaden’s mother and father were mauled by werewolves. Blanche didn’t exactly register what was happening as she froze, eyes wide as Winn’s snarling face came crashing towards her. Blanche had never seen Winn like that — she had never been in this position. She was rooted straight down into the ground. She couldn’t even scream. She couldn’t move. Move you idiot, try to run! If she was going to die, why the hell was she going to die standing there like an idiot. She wasn’t going to be like all the other fucking stupid people in this town that just died. Inky black spots appeared in her vision and her knees hit the grass first as her entire body crumbled, arms going to cover her head.

Why was it not running? The wolf watched, almost in slow motion, as the human crumpled to the ground, far enough away from the thing that it had had plenty of time to run away from the wolf. Run! said a voice, in that crude tongue. But, as the wolf came upon the human, raised its claws to rend its flesh from its bones, it found it could not. The heartbeat was— A growl, now, but not from its own gut. But from its own throat? No. No, this would not do. It brought its claw down—

— and Winn stopped himself, coming back to his senses. His vision was blurry, his senses scattered to the winds. Fuck. What the fuck. He’d known Blanche could throw him, rationally, but to be actually thrown. It was awful, wild. It had pushed him to an edge, an edge he almost didn’t back away from. He had to… He had to go, to get away. What if he fucked up, what if he hadn’t been able to stop the wolf? Blanche was... It was safer, for her, if he left. He couldn’t be trusted, with a human life. Why the fuck had he thought he’d be safe for Blanche to fight? Stupid, idiot, useless motherfucker. He whimpered, soft at the back of his throat. Would she be... alright? She had to be. He couldn’t shift back, tried and couldn’t. Dammit, fuck. He… He had to go. He had questions, but no thoughts about where to find answers. Had Salva been right about him?

[heweightlossjourney]

Introductions

**PRO ANA, PRO MIA, AND THINSPO ACCOUNTS DO NOT INTERACT**

Hello to anyone reading this. I’m H and I’ve started this sideblog to document my weight loss and keep myself accountable. Let me start with a little backstory:

I have been overweight for as long as I can remember. I’ve never been super active, though I was on a couple sports teams at various points throughout my school life. I always overate as a kid and I still do it now. Eating has been a coping mechanism for me my entire life, and I would say that I am addicted to food. 

I have generally been okay being heavy, but bullying is a bitch and I know that other people’s perception of me affected me and made me a nasty bitch in middle school and high school. I wasn’t in a place to understand why I acted out until I was able to distance myself from my long term abusive boyfriend and my dad stopped drinking and got out of his abusive/toxic situation. Now, I understand the effects that the trauma in my life has had on me and I’m calmer and more level-headed, so I am in a good place to start working on my physical health in conjunction with my mental health. 

I know that my self-image right now isn’t healthy, and I am aiming to love my body. I am trying hard not to think of the things I might want after this, like skin removal surgery and breast reshaping, but it is hard not to imagine myself with a little sprucing up. While I don’t want to scrutinize over every flaw I have, I think the best way I can motivate myself to keep it up is taking note of my body and how I perceive certain areas, so I will update this with my reflection on how my body looks every so often. 

Over the time I have been not working because of COVID-19, I have gained weight, but I have also started keeping up with infamous obese youtubers like Amberlynn Reid and Foodie Beauty, and watching channels like Charlie Gold and Petty Kitten react to them. I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t a kick in the ass to not become as big as them, but also a motivator knowing that I will never be like that, I won’t allow myself to be like them, and that I am a better person than they are. I know that thinking like that is mean and cruel, but I am here to lose weight, not monetize my addiction and appeal to feeders while maintaining an attitude of entitlement and oblivion.

While we are at it, let me just name a few of my rock bottom moments:

- my abusive ex boyfriend calling me “Whaley”

- being too heavy to ride horses

- being too big for a ride at the fair and having to get off it in front of a ton of people in public

- my brother swiping the back of m head like a debit machine

- my ability to polish of a lot of food in one go

- my lack of stamina standing, walking, exercising, being on top during sex

- crushing my boyfriend when I lay on him

- being too big to fit into 3x clothing on websites like dollskill that actually sell some interesting clothing for bigger ladies

Without too much more delay, let’s get into the facts:

Age: 18

Height: 5′11

Starting Weight: 333 pounds

Current Weight: 329 pounds

Total Loss: 4 pounds

BMI: 45.9

BMI Goal: 25

Current Goal: 300 pounds by day 30

Day: 4

Health Concerns: Morbid Obesity, PCOS and Insulin Resistance, Lactose Intolerance, Depression, Anxiety, Food Addiction.

Diet Plan: OMAD (one meal a day) and intermittent fasting. 

The diet I have chosen to follow, OMAD, is one of many different diets I have tried over the course of my life. I have tried keto, I have tried vegetarianism, I have tried slimfast. The reason I have chosen this particular diet this time is because of the freedom to eat pretty much anything within the hour I set aside for myself to eat each day. It’s hard to fuck yourself up too much in an hour. After having done the diet for a few days, here is what I have noticed about it:

- I get hangry

- I am somewhat nocturnal and often sleep from 6am - 2pm, and it makes it so much easier

- The boost in energy after my feels like I am on top of the world, and the naps while digesting fuckin rock, sleepy is a good feeling when you have time set aside for it

- It is a lot of mental will power to look at my favourite foods and say no

- It is a lot of mental will power not to cram 3 meals into an hour

- It is hard to pick what I want for dinner

- Cravings hit hard

- Black Coffee is nasty

- It is easier not to consume dairy with OMAD, and not have diarrhea everyday is nice.

There are some things I have noted as well, like eating dairy at all is a big mistake. It is unpleasant to only feel full for a short period of time before violently emptying the contents of my digestive tract. The effects of lactose has on my body go so much quicker when it is the only thing I have in my body at the time. Lactaid is very hit and miss for me, and by the way the chewable tablets are actually the devil incarnate and I hate them. I have tasted vanilla in my life and that isn’t it. 

I chose this diet because my boyfriend does fasting as his preferred diet method, and while I wish I could fast all day, my job requires me to have energy and I am not a happy hungry lady. I intend to do OMAD long term, but may change it up slightly if I start to struggle when I get back to work. 

It should also be noted that I seriously do not recommend this diet to anyone who struggles with disordered eating (me), depression (me), anxiety (me), obesity (me), anyone who has an affliction that would make it safer for them to consume more than one meal a day (me), and people who have medications they need to take with food (me). This diet is not recommended by doctors for long term weight loss, my endocrinologist was frankly a bit shocked when I told her, and it can cause a host of problems included but not limited to:

- triggering of eating disorders

- lack of protein 

- excess of carbs

- diarrhea (thanks, really needed more of that)

- nausea

- dizziness

- weakness

- extreme fatigue

So let me go ahead here and describe a little bit about my health issues, namely my PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome. PCOS is a hormonal disorder. It can cause increased levels of androgen in the body, increased hair, insulin resistance, excessive hair growth, male pattern baldness, weight gain, irregular periods, fertility problems, increase risk of developing type 2 diabetes, increase risk of high blood pressure and high cholesterol, acne and oily skin, depression, and sleep apnea, as well as increase the risk for endometrial cancers, and obviously, cause ovarian cysts. This disorder can be passed from mother to daughter, and I got it from my mom. I have been suffering with this for years.

The biggest effects on my body have been my weight, my depression, irregular periods and cysts. I currently have an IUD in place to help with the symptoms, but my periods are not even close to regular and are often brown in colour. Before hormonal birth control, I would have 2-3 periods per year that lasted about a month at a time. These periods were heavy and excruciatingly painful, and the clots I birthed were like jellyfish. I often lost enough blood to become anemic. 

It should be noted that my PCOS has caused me to be resistant to insulin, and that can make it hard to lose weight and also cause some brown discolouration on the skin, which I have had on my chest and neck. I remember my mom used to scrub at my neck thinking it was dirty when my neck first started becoming discoloured. 

I had my IUD placed in December of 2018, and the follow up ultrasound revealed a cyst on my right ovary that was 21cm x 21cm which required surgery. Due to that, a traumatic situation and my vegetarianism, I lost 30 pounds by March of 2019. 

I have also struggled most of my life with depression and anxiety and used food to cope. I am currently on medication for that. I also take Metformin to help with the effects of the PCOS.

Here I will give a short description on the areas of my body that bother me and what I would like to see improve. I will try to be objective about what I don’t like and I will be honest about the reasons I would like to improve. I will say now that many of these reasons are cosmetic and not necessarily health related.

Inner thighs: While my legs are one of my favourite parts of my body and are in general strong and shapely, my inner thighs have a pocket of fat near my pubic mound, and I can see it when I stand up or I can see it in the mirror from behind when I bend over. I am self conscious about this because I don’t like the way it looks/hangs, and it makes it hard to be present and immersed when I am having sex or see myself as attractive if I take a picture for my boyfriend. The goal for this area is to have less hang so I can feel more relaxed during sex and any time I bend over. I also don’t particularly enjoy the thigh holes in my jeans, or that I have trouble with any sort of thigh high sock rolling.

Pubic mound: I’m not even gonna bullshit here: I just want a normal looking vulva. That’s it. I want it to be easier to access my clit, I don’t want such a prominent camel toe when I wear pants, I’d like it to be easier for my boyfriend to go down on me. I have a nice inner vulva and I want the exterior to match. I also find it hard to shave the areas between my mound and my thigh, as holding it open is not easy. That groin area is also prone to skin yeast infections and pimples and blackheads, and while I admit that they are fun to pop, it would be nice if I did not have to deal with it. 

My stomach: My stomach hangs. Underneath of it is prone to those same pimples and skin yeast infections (canesten is really helpful for tinea cruris, by the way. Yeast infections are yeast infections.) and while I get some sick pops for r/popping, it isn’t attractive. My stomach is hairy and while that isn’t really totally weight related, it also isn’t cute. My belly button is often very hidden, and it would be nice to get down to a size that I could get it pierced like my mom has. The rolls of my stomach get pimples and the red marks from sitting all day are not cute and can get painful. I have the muffin top when I wear jeans, and while the look of my stomach in jeans is less than sexy, it actually doesn’t bother me all that much.I have trouble keeping up panties that are both too tight or too loose, and tights are always rolling down. If it doesn’t hit just above my waist while still being slightly tight, it isn’t even worth trying to wear at all. All my jeans and leggings are high-waisted, and a lot of them roll when I sit or bend over. As a nanny, that is a really big inconvenience, and I would like to be able to exist for an hour without having to pull up my goddamn pants/leggings/underwear/tights. God forbid I put on a garter belt. Clothes that are flattering are hard for find for obese women. I just want to wear pretty clothes and feel like a person. When I sit with my knees up, my stomach is Very Present, and I can feel it against my thighs and trying to press through the gap in the middle. It would be nice to not feel that way, and I hope that I can achieve a stomach that does not hang.

Rolls under breasts: These are real sons of bitches. Hot, hairy, red, pimply. The heat rash is real. About half to 3/4 the size of my actual breasts. They make finding a comfortable bra difficult, and I would be really happy if they got even half the size they are now. 

Breasts: I don’t necessarily have a weight issue with my tibblies, but they are underdeveloped underneath and I don’t really like the shape of them so much. I am on the waiting list to see a plastic surgeon about my options. There are certain things about my chest that I don’t like that are the fault of obesity however, like the dark marks on my chest because of resistance to insulin, but I will get more into that in a bit. I also don’t love boobne, but hey, acne, amirite ladies? 

My chin/neck situation: My ‘waddle’, as I so hatefully refer to it, is my least favourite part of my body. This makes me so upset. I think this is the only part of my body that I truly genuinely hate. If I could duct tape it back so I could look normal, I would. I often look at plus size and fat and obese women and think why do they have chins and necks that are ‘normal’ but not me? (spoilers: the answer is morbid obesity.) I would like to be able to wear a choker comfortably and without it being hidden by my neck. It is very hard to pop waddle pimples. I do have the insulin marks on my neck, and a dowager’s hump, which makes me feel weird if I look at it too long. I don’t like when it sticks out of my clothing, and it feels odd to look at it with a necklace on, or a choker or collar or anything like that.

My back rolls: You hate to see it, and it makes finding a bra in my size a pain. It is hard to hide them, and anything that is fitted to the boobs and then flares can exaggerate the look of them. I don’t look at them too often so it doesn’t always bother me, but they can be a pain with certain clothes. It also makes some clothes tight and restricting in a way they normally wouldn’t, like dresses or shirts that zip. Highly unpleasant, and I would like to have smoother back for cosmetic reasons. 

The back of my head: I shave the underneath of my head. I’ve had my entire head shaven before, I’ve had just the sides shaven. It would be nice to get to a place where there wasn’t a roll at the back of my head. It would also be nice if my brother hadn’t swiped a card through it, but only one of those things is achievable. 

My arms: I have pretty strong arms, my job requires lifting and I’ve never shied away from taking all the groceries in one trip. My arms are large but not huge. I would be happy with a little reduction in the ‘wing’ area and I would like to see my upper arms a little more streamlined when fully extended. I genuinely do have big bones, but it would be nice to be able to wear my bracelets more comfortably. 

My hands: For the longest time I have been upset about the idea of ‘fat people hands’. I don’t have huge fingers, but it would be nice to fit rings on a little easier. I have large hands, because I am a tall woman, but not really fat or chubby hands like one might think of when thinking of fat people hands. My knuckles are fairly well defined, though they have dimples when my hands are flat, and have had since I was little. I think they are cute to be honest. I do not have discolouration on my fingers or knuckles.

My face: I don’t have a ton of fat on my cheeks actually. I do have a round face, but I have dimple-like indentations under my cheekbones that clearly define them. It would be nice to be a slightly slimmer face and defined jawline - any attempt at a contour is just awful. I would like to have a less prominent chin and cheeks. 

So let’s talk for a bit about long term goals. I am trying to set goals for myself in chunks. I know that aiming to lose 100 pounds the first go around is highly unlikely to get me any sort of success and I know that breaking it up into smaller bits is less overwhelming and more motivating. I am seriously trying to be careful about rewarding myself with any kind of food. 

Realistically, I would like to see myself get into the ‘normal’ BMI range by this time next year. I also know that to do that, I would need to lose around 170 pounds. With OMAD, you can expect to lose between half a pound and one pound a day. I do not see myself losing 170 pounds in 170 days. I do not think it is healthy to lose that much in under 6 months, and I don’t think my skin would appreciate it either, nor do I think OMAD is sustainable for that long. The idea is to try and hold out with OMAD for about 3 and a half months, and in that time, with upkeep, exercise and discipline, I could lose around 100 pounds, but I think the responsible thing would be to hope for closer to 75 pounds. 

I would like to outline my goals here:

Current Goal: 300 pounds - 33 pounds lost - 41.8 BMI

Second Goal: 270 pounds - 63 pounds lost - 37.7 BMI

Third Goal: 240 - 93 pounds lost - 33.5 BMI

Fourth Goal: 210 - 123 pounds lost - 29.3 BMI

Fifth Goal: 180 - 153 pounds lost - 25.1 BMI

Final Goal: 160 - 173 pounds lost - 22.3 BMI

Knowing how much one can lose in x amount of time with OMAD, and assuming I kept with it for a year, it could take anywhere from 173 days to 346 days to reach my final goal. I know that I won’t lose the same amount every day, and I know that it will be hard to keep it off once I reach my goal. 

I also know that I will need to take vitamins and supplements to make sure I don’t lose anything during this time. 

I am trying not to set deadlines for when I would like to reach my goals, though ideally I would be losing about 20 pounds a month. There are some important dates that I am hoping to have lost a certain amount for, however, and based on how much I might expect to lose and some basic math, I have deemed it pretty feasible to do.

I return to work around July 6th. It is currently May 30th. In 37 days I am hoping to have reached my first goal of 33 pounds lost. I lost 4 pounds in 3 days, and I hope to keep up that pace. 

The other date that I am hoping to have lost weight for is my birthday, which is August 31st. In 93 days I am hoping to have met my second goal of 63 pounds lost. I am turning 19 and very excited to celebrate.

For a little in-depth at what I am doing as far as my meal, I am eating a normal supper for me, a snack and a dessert. I am not counting calories. I’ll give some examples of what I have eaten at this time.

Day 1: Gnocchi bake with chicken, gummies, a chocolate bar, a little bit of bread and an iced tea. I made the bake with a package of sundried tomato gnocchi, one chicken breast, an olivieri package of rose sauce, like 2-3 tablespoons of herb and garlic cream cheese and onion. It was so good.

Day 2: I had the 4 bites of leftovers and some cheese bread, an iced tea, chicken strips, fries, a bite of fish, and some coleslaw. This day I felt sort of weak in the evening and so I had a fried egg sandwich with a cheese slice, mustard and mayo.

Day 3: I GUZZLED water all day long, like 4-5 bottles of water. I had crackers, the middle of a cinnamon bun, chicken strips and fries again, coleslaw and then some cake (I was celebrating a family birthday). My pee has never been so clear, let me just tell you.

One of the good things about this diet is being able to have whatever I would like as my meal for the day. I am an excellent cook (friend, family, teacher, boyfriend’s family and boyfriend approved, being fat has helped me master the kitchen) and I love doing it, so I can really get creative with my meal.

I come from a diet family, and so I am definitely supported on this diet, and my boyfriend is doing it with me, because misery loves company. Overall, I do feel hungry, but I feel satisfied with what I am doing and I have a lot more will power than I thought I did before, so I am proud of myself in that regard.

During my fasts, I try to only consume water and black coffee, which I take iced so it doesn’t nerf me with the flavour. Chewing gum is also quite helpful. My eating period is between 7p-8p, or 7p-8:30p, but that may change overtime as my sleep and activity schedule changes in the coming months.

I do not make promises on diets as a rule, but because of the nature of this diet I have made myself a promise that I will listen to my body. If I need a meal, I will eat one. If what is best for me is splitting my eating hour into two 30 minute eating periods a day for energy, especially while I work, then that is what I will do. 

Like I said, the goal is to check in every day with what I ate, my general feelings and if I am changing anything, and then I will try to do a weigh in weekly, and every couple of weeks update any changes I notice in the areas I mentioned earlier that bother me as a fat person. 

‘Til next time,

H

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ upd8 2020-01-17

Alright, morningblogging yesterday’s 2020-01-17 upd8 to Homestuck^2 let’s go!  Spoiler-free again.  I kinda don’t want even the next chapter names image-spoiled above the cut anymore so I’m going to have to figure out WHAT to put above the cut in these liveblog posts for visual reinforcement... a unique silly icon?  Going back once I’m done with the upd8 and posting something non-spoilery but weird-looking out of context?

Eh, can’t be assed.  Just know that after this I’m going to pony up for the Patreon commentary and skim it for anything plot-useful to y’all (in a separate post).  Let’s get started.

Okay, what’s next:  Any bonuses?  Oh, none!  Phew.  Unless those are coming faster too and just staggered differently, which would mean I gotta overcome my irrational pre-Homestuck-reading anxiety even MORE often.  :T

No Homestuck you don’t GET to ask how my-- ah, right.  :P

(FYI, HS^2 has been good to my emotions so far, quite a balm for the epilogues, so once I START reading I’m usually fine; but after being hurt so badly how could I possibly convince my lizard brain to trust it until it’s right in front of me?  Seriously, just hearing that the upd8 has landed messes me up a bit until I come fix it by reading w/ y’all here.)

Okay, so whose feelings?  As much as I’ve been waiting for Jade, I hope this isn’t about Jade.

> ==>

Ah fuck, we’re finally with the Pursuit Crew.  Bracing myself.  That means we get to see probably sleeping Jade ( :C ), full-swing DaveKat (approving nod), the first canon onscreen look at masculine-mode Roxy (<3), a probably pretty pissed off Kanaya (possibly either the feelings target, the one Saying How Are Your Feelings, or both), and uh... did they drag Callie along?  Or leave her back there with her meta freakout?  Probably left her back there, but... hm.

Let me turn up the brightness on this screen to sear these next pages into my retinas.  (Also, it feels odd to still be using a four-person “==>” for these, although if Jade is still asleep the numbers might fit on both ends... :c )

> ==>

I don’t think Dad is in the spacefaring business, so this is probably one of Jake’s shittier spaceship designs.

> ==>

...well that’s a touch disturbing.  Is that a Jade-occupied bed or are those just pillows?

Oh what the fresh fanfic’y heck is this command.

> i enter.

Okay that’s great.  I got a kick out of that.

JADE [in calliope red]: the prince’s power grows.

--but that’s not.  That explains the narrative command text, it’s alt!callie talking through a still conked-out Jade.  Please let her wake up between speak-throughs, please tell me you’ve learned that trick??  I already know you’re gonna pull an “oh she was asleep pretty much all of those THREE YEARS OF TRAVEL” thing on me and that’s hard fucking enough to deal with.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST!

He’s actually using the full curse correctly, huh?

...These commands.  Guess part of the puzzle is how much alt!Callie is being typically morbid and how much she might actually be wising up enough to get a kick out of this.

> the knight of blood falls.

DAVE: dude can you chill for like even a single fucking second DAVE: also are you ok

Has CallieJade chilled for even a single second this entire trip??  Is he asking just if Karkat’s okay or Jade too???

--yeah I’m overblowing things out of nervousness.  Just wait and see a bit, boots.

Alt!Callie has at least learned to be more of a smartass:

> karkat is characteristically appreciative of the alarm call.

Shirt trade Karkat, nice.  And uh, Jade’s dress sure is a... dress.  Hm.

(Did alt!Callie alchemize adjustments to did she just luck out to have a red-symbol’d Bec belt and accent leggings?  I’d prefer the former, because as much as it would be acceptable within Homestuck proper, using the transition between the epilogues and this new-author’d work to just HAPPEN to give her a fitting outfit without an excuse via providence is kind of lazy.)

KARKAT: OH, PARDON THE FUCK OUT OF ME FOR OVERREACTING A LITTLE WHEN MY GOOD FRIEND "POSSESSED JADE" BUSTS INTO MY RESPITEBLOCK AT 5 AM! KARKAT: NEXT TIME I’LL JUST PULL THE COVERS BACK AND LET HER CLIMB IN! JADE: i am uninterested in that scenario. KARKAT: GREAT! POSSESSED JADE ISN’T EVEN HORNY! HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?

...please let that mean he’s not used to her being possessed all the time and she wakes up sometimes.  PLEASE.

DAVE: but im pretty sure i locked that door JADE: i unlocked it with my mind. DAVE: fuck KARKAT: FANTASTIC. JADE: the prince’s powers are growing, but so are mine.

Dave, I’m pretty sure regular-ass no-Green-Sun Space powers can flip a few lock tumblers too.  (--though, I guess from context this was a Jakeship technolock.  Confirmation on the ship’s bad taste in design.  --I think I’m foggily remembering it said in the Epilogues that they took one of Jake’s ships just like Dirk did, too... man, being depressed so much by the Epilogues sure took a lot out of my ability to recall them decently.)

KARKAT: LIKE YOU DON’T FLOAT AROUND LIKE A CREEPY PIECE OF SHIT ALL DAY AS IT IS?

God DAMN IT she’s been asleep and possessed the whole fucking time.

> sleep is abandoned, coffee sought.

More obligatory DaveKat being cute, somehow only emphasized by the embarrassing glowing-with-power observer who doesn’t really get any of it.

Ah, here we go:

> the rogue is also awake.

Oh huh.  Cool!

Hero outfit, understated...  her his choice of heart-shades color-coded to stand out from Dave more to avoid further mistaken identity cases.  Works well!  (Holy shit I only JUST remembered at the end to go back and correctly gender Roxy as him, that was close. I blame the epilogues for a lack of visual reinforcement; I shouldn’t have as much trouble soon enough.  Seriously, I don’t remember ANYTHING without visual reinforcement, I think that’s why I remember so much of Homestuck proper so clearly.)

KARKAT: OH SHIT, THERE SHE IS! I DIDN’T EVEN HEAR HER FOLLOW US! ROXY: sometimes a girls just got to get her drift on i guess ROXY: it be like that

ilu roxy.

I missed Roxy so much, you guys.  I need more of him remarking on all this crazy shit if I’m gonna stay sane though all this.  (And I need more of him and AWAKE JADE kicking ass independently or together if I’m going to continue to believe there’s justice in the world.)

> ==>

We rarely saw Rose drinking anything but the rare coffee in canon, but I think Kanaya would have gotten her plenty into tea, yes.  Or at the very least, wanting the aesthetic of drinking tea with Kanaya would have gotten Rose into tea even if it never crossed Kanaya’s mind to try the stuff.

ROXY: well i mean who knows what she drinks now ROXY: dirk probs tossed the coffee machine out the space window right away ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances" > the prince is contemplated for a moment in silence.

FUCK, Dirk can see the narrative all the way out here???  No wonder alt!Callie’s forced to have possession turned on 24/7.  That’s fucking disappointing.  How the hell are we going to get any proper Jade time with THAT hanging over our heads?  She’d only be able to do anything when Dirk’s knocked out, and maybe not even THEN!

I was virtually promised more of actual non-asleep Jade getting shit done in HS^2.  Now there’s an even longer wait on it than I expected.  This sucks.

(EDIT: BOY did I misread that link line. Thinking “is contemplated” meant is sitting contemplating, when it meant "is being contemplated by everyone here". That was dumb of me.)

*clicks that next link*

Oh my goodness, Roxy joined the Bird Hair Crew.  It makes him look like a fucking asshole but I kind of love it.

KARKAT: IS THERE MILK?

I can’t believe Karkat is okay with drinking milk.  --yes, culturally Trolls are more comfortable with animal excretions than we are, but you would’ve thought years of railing against Equius would have purged any tolerance the idea of milk from his psyche.

I guess Dave introduced him to cereal, and it was all over from there.

DAVE: this is more like a castle DAVE: a castle of idk DAVE: twenty something ennui

Sounds like a relatable mood.  Especially considering Dirk probably decided to conquer reality out of almost nothing but twenty-something ennui.

Alright.  You aren’t going to turn Kanaya into an alcoholic or anything on us are you?

> the knight of time seeks a sylph...

--this is the shittiest shipboard starship aesthetic.

> ...and finds her, momentarily.

WOW that looks fucking depressed.  :(

> ==>

...okay you know what?  Never mind.  That outfit has wrapped straight back around into Trying Too Hard and is now hilarious.

DAVE: you ever feel like our whole lives are eventually gonna end up like this DAVE: just blasting through space on a sweeps long journey to ""somewhere"" chasing after or running from some vague enemy thats sometimes a god modded pet dog and sometimes your dad DAVE: without the faintest fucking idea of whats going to happen when we get there DAVE: thats a little specific but you know what i mean

Why do you think the epilogues upset us so much?  We thought we’d won free of that bullshit.

> ==>

Oh jesus christ that’s the most depressingly sad I’ve ever seen Kanaya drawn.  :C

--Karkat got you to watch Serendipity?  That’s amazing, Dave.

KANAYA: You Arent Reminding Me Of Her As I Rarely Think Of Anything Else KANAYA: I Close My Eyes And I See Her KANAYA: I Keep Them Open And I See Her

Fuck.

Y’know how little showing these two in love and actually HAPPY together we’ve seen in this entire comic and its subworks?  Despite them having spent at least a few happy years together we only saw in tiny screenclips?  And how Candy alluded super hard that they most likely couldn’t get that in this real timeline where shit’s going down?

Seriously, FUCK.  You could at least pretend to give us some hope, here.

Oh no, don’t ask for the nursery story, Dave.  Unless it turns out to be a funny one or a Rose twist on an old story or something.  Which it probably is, I should stop worrying.

> ==>

KANAYA: Oh Its A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost DAVE: flower DAVE: like a plant KANAYA: Its A Fairytale Dave DAVE: right KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

Dirk you PIECE OF SHIT did you rewrite the narrative of the fucking STORIES SHE TOLD CHILDREN?!??  Does the fact that alt!Callie is only in the present mean he can rewrite ANY past event we didn’t literally SEE???  FUCK you.  Seriously fuck all of this.

Please tell me she was kidding just then, or realizes there’s fucking something wrong with what she’s saying and getting angry or.

(EDIT: shoutyourporpoise replied: "Hey, idk If you picked up on this, but the 'nursery story' Rose told to the wigglers is just The Little Prince, which is maybe a BIT early for them to read, but I don't think that's a case of Dirk changing the narrative; its just Rose being Too Adult as usual." Oh, damn, I didn't even CATCH that it was that story. That makes all of this a lot more forgivable, even if pretty unforgivably leaning into the fiction that Dirk used to brainwash and kidnap her. Maybe that's exactly why it worked -- fiction, a story so blazed into the public consciousness? Hm. Thanks, shoutyourporpoise.)

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

Mother fuck I’m even going to have to see our protagonists warped by Dirk when they’re ostensibly FULLY SHIELDED aren’t I.  There’s only so much of that I would be able to take, you know.

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister KANAYA: She Is A Goddess Of Light And The Only Of Her Kind We Know Is Alive After All KANAYA: Maybe Shes Wrested Dominion Of The Entire Concept In All Its Appearances Within This Frame Of Reference

Hm.  Well, it being a product of Rose’s ascension instead of Dirk’s is possibly a more charitable take, with Ultimate Rose projecting the delusion enforced on her backward, visible to past Rose’s Sight when she isn’t paying attention and thus paving the way for Dirk to paradoxically exploit that “ideal” as something Lighty and Important and “Perfect”.  I still don’t fucking like it though.

> ==>

DAVE: sorry i know you say you got your badass monster powers but kanaya you look tired as hell DAVE: not that im tryna psyche you or whatever but youre waxing poetic in the dark which i guess is maybe on brand but still

Yyyep.

DAVE: unless terezi is lurking in the vents somewhere and now that i bring that up its actually not out of the question so im kind of gonna be thinking about that one for a while

Pffff.

DAVE: youre the only person i know whos still basically the same as when i met you

--Which is kind of going to have to change, right?  She’s got some other cosmic purpose ready to change her a little more than she changed pre-human-troll-meetup, you’d think.

> ==>

Cute as hell.

> ==>

KANAYA: How Are Your Feelings

There’s the title drop.  I’d think Dave’s doing pretty well, considering?  Still fucked over by Dirk betraying and tricking Rose away who he’s been close with all his life, but.

> ==>

DAVE: except sometimes your best friend disappears and your other best friend goes into a ghost coma and your third best friend fucks off to space with your dad DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit

Ah... yeah.  A little worse than my casual list, huh?  Forgot that Jade vanishing into a possession-coma for THREE FUCKING YEARS is going to be hard on people inside the comic too, fuck.

DAVE: maybe it was naive to think that a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society

I was honestly surprised they TRIED to run society at all.  Jasp even just highlighted a big reason why not in the bonuses.

DAVE: cool how earth c existed for centuries then we show up and manage to ruin society in seven fucking years

:(

Well, the trolls got THEIR lesson on why they didn’t deserve to rule over their new universe like gods; I guess some of y’all needed that lesson too?

DAVE: every serious conversation i have inevitably falls apart into riffing on a casual acquaintances ass

True.

Dammit, Dave didn’t feel like he could just be Some Guy even on Earth C.  :(

> ==>

...don’t think I’ve forgotten that nursery story, though.  I don’t want to think that it was something that ACTUALLY past happened, especially not without manipulation.  Like maybe past Rose was foreseeing the false purpose that Dirk wrote for her or the like, a cooperative misunderstanding between the two instead of Dirk or Rose literally reaching back in time.

> meanwhile...

KARKAT: WAIT, WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN ASKING? HE’S OBVIOUSLY NOT FINE. KARKAT: ARE ANY OF US? ARE YOU? ROXY: not rly KARKAT: EXACTLY.

:(

--Oh right.  I remember that Callie and Roxy were going reasonably steady in Meat even though it was only alluded to, she didn’t freak out and stay awol or what have you.  That’s good to remember.  But it means Roxy deliberately left her behind to go on this dangerous quest, for years.  :C

KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

Oh, SHIT.  I should have read one line further.  They DID bring her.  Alt!Callie being here too must really FUCK with her.  ...maybe she can actually learn to accept that alternate way her life might’ve played out, though?

KARKAT: THE REALLY FUCKED UP THING IS I MIGHT BE THE MOST OKAY OUT OF ALL OF US, WHICH IS HOW YOU KNOW SHIT HAS REALLY GONE GLOBES UP.

Quite true.

ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO.

Pff.

> ==>

KARKAT: AGAINST PRETTY MUCH ALL ODDS, AND DESPITE ME NOT DESERVING ANY OF IT, I ENDED UP GETTING PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING I WANTED. KARKAT: OVER AND OVER AGAIN. KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

Well, if you want to blame Lord English for instance... we never saw Caliborn and Karkat interact much, but the parallels between the two were drawn so severely that Caliborn was basically the idealized, multiverse-threatening Ultimate Kismesis that he’d always dreamed of.  And operated against him without him even ever quite realizing it.

If a level of “respect” went from Caliborn to Karkat, too, from his Lord-Englishy vision nigh-omnipresent, then this outcome isn’t very surprising at all.

> ==>

(I don’t quite feel I get why Roxy shifted to this exasperated-Dave expression, but I get logically that he’d been waiting for Karkat to make a breakfast choice... Homestuck proper rarely pulled a “last line said corresponds to next-panel’s expression” without either leaving the conversation blank or having the NEXT lines of the conversation reinforce it, to prevent this inelegant misunderstanding.  Andrew was really damned talented in getting his point across visually, in that regard.  Just like, that careful visual intent delivery.)

Alright, I guess that’s it for this short upd8!  Meeting the pursuit crew was both more and less difficult than I expected.  Hopefully I get desensitized a bit as the characters continue to feel semi-almost-sorta-fine.

I have NO idea how this group is gonna work as a proper crew when we get to whatever weird other-players’ session this shit is going down in, though.

[internaljiujitsu]

F*%! FEAR: 6 Steps To Becoming Fearless

I lived in fear for forty years. It felt like weakness — as if there was something wrong with me that made me more scared than everyone else. My mother would always tell me about how sickly I was when I was born. How I stayed at the hospital for a month afterwards and how my aunt just barely saved me from dying once (so I guess I was kind of on borrowed time). I hated eating as a kid and was really skinny, adding to my weak mystique. In school, what I now know was anxiety would create psychosomatic illnesses. I’d feel sick, but it was all in my head. Stomach aches, dizziness, shortness of breath  —  It frustrated my dad — especially when he’d have to come pick me up from school again because I was freaking out on the inside.

We grew up watching the crack epidemic take over our neighborhood. The drug dealers did their business out of the fourth floor of our building. My brother and I would sweep up crack vials on the weekends to get our allowance from the superintendent — our dad. The tiny plastic cylinders with colorful caps filled the dustpan as we swept the roach infested vestibule leading down to the spooky, filthy basement.

Several young immigrants that had just arrived from Mexico were found dead over the years in the building next door, where Dad was also the super. Death from unnatural causes was a very real thing where we lived. Around age eight or nine, my alcoholic uncle, who lived in a storage room in the aforementioned basement (and would sometimes walk me to school), was killed when he fell while trying to climb a building to get to his ex girlfriend. I was about ten when our close family friend’s son, a squeaky clean kid visiting from the marine corp, was murdered defending a girl in the playground. At eleven or twelve, I watched my best friend’s dad kill a guy in an argument over a prostitute.

When I was fourteen, I was mugged at gunpoint around the corner from my family’s apartment. My big brother, wielding a large, rusty machete, took me around the entire neighborhood that night looking for the robber. The dude had worn a mask, so my brother put the blade to every thug’s neck that we passed on the street and asked me to look him deep in the eyes. They all knew my brother and respected him. They pleaded for mercy. Thankfully, we never found the guy.

That kind of shit was common in my old neighborhood. Baseball bats were swung in search of skulls and group rumbles were still a thing. I had family members snorting coke in front of me by the time I was in the fourth grade (and immediately making me promise I’d never do the same). Forty ounce bottles of beer were smashed over people’s heads in street fights. My crackhead cousin once robbed a dude using my favorite toy gun. He confessed to me when I found the gun broken and complained to him about it. Bullets fired from roof tops for fun whizzed through the ganja heavy air. It feels like we fought every day at school. That big yellow bus was like the fucking octogan.

We finally moved out of that neighborhood when I was sixteen after a gunfight forced our entire family to jump behind a parked car for cover. That shit was stressful. I was jumpy as hell. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were very old school disciplinarians, if you know what I mean. There were fights outside and fights inside — all the time. I was always scared.

And that’s how I continued to grow up — I just didn’t show it, or let it stop me from fighting. When it was time to throw down in the street or at school, I always did. Partially because I knew my badass big brother would disown me if he heard I punked out. Backing down meant you were a victim. I once accidentally stepped on his buddy’s shoe and apologized. I’ll never forget what the guy said, “You never say sorry. It makes you look weak.” But a man’s sneakers were sacred in the hood, and I sure as hell never looked for a fight — unless I was channeling big brother.

He loved throwing the first punch and bragged about knocking guys out cold at night clubs — until a near death experience and one hundred and fifty stitches thanks to razor blade slashes made him reconsider his life choices. I’ll never forget when the call came in the middle of the night. I don’t remember why I answered the phone instead of my parents, but the voice on the other end is clear as day, “Your brother has been stabbed.” At that moment I thought the worst, and was relieved to see him gingerly walking through the door later that morning, battered, bruised and slashed to bits — but alive.

When I pretended to be my brother, I wasn’t above throwing a preemptive strike. We all had it in us. Hell, my dad was known to go into some destructive ass kicking rages when people pissed him off. I certainly tried my best not to get on his sizable bad side. Mom and sis aren’t exactly shrinking violets either.

My recurring nightmare as a child was of me walking down a beautiful tree lined street, the very one I always wanted to live on. It was only a few blocks from our shithole, but felt like a world away. In the dream, as I reluctantly step, there is the overwhelming feeling that someone is hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack. I’m petrified to move forward, but I keep going — slowly heading toward the inevitable. It was terrifying torture.

I don’t remember ever actually seeing the attacker. I’ve attached a bunch of meaning to that dream ever since, but at the root was my fear. For most of my life I moved forward, steadily but fearfully. I did things that made me want to shit my pants and forced my way through, hating every minute. In retrospect, these all helped build toughness and character, as did my old neighborhood, but the fear persisted. I became a bouncer, champion bodybuilder and an expert martial artist, but felt like a fraud for the unease that was my base level.

It wasn’t until I took these seven steps that terror’s grip on me loosened. Fear doesn’t have to be your enemy. If you learn how to use it, it will energize your actions and help you break past limitations. But first, you have to acknowledge that it’s there.

Accept that you and everyone you know will die. There’s no way around it. Yeah, it’s bleak, but if you wanna live in denial of death, you’re liable to swallow a bunch of bullshit to ease your mind. At its core, all fear is fear of death. When I was a kid, I hated when anyone brought up dying, especially my parents. The uncertainty was too overwhelming. There’s nothing more worthless than fear of the inevitable. It took me a couple of years of suicidal depression, meditation and time in sensory deprivation tanks to get comfortable with the idea of not existing. The tank feels like you’re floating in the womb. It’s pitch black, soundproof and the water is the same temperature as your body, so it feels lke there’s no separation. You and the enviornment become one. It’s blissfully peacful. Sure, I don’t want to die right now because I’m loving life, but I know it will happen one day — and I hope to enjoy that ride as much as I’m enjoying this one.

You’re not your personality. It’s easy to feel like a single, solitary soul drifting in a vast sea of faces. Valuing our individuality as we do, many of us strive to be unique while others do their best to blend into the collective. The way I see it, we’re all the current that powers these appliances we call our bodies. I feel like I’ve lived several separate lives filled with rich, distinct experiences and at the end of each, I mourned the death of an identity. While it feels like I was different people, the throughline was the same. The real me didn’t change. Our personalities are just things made up by our circumstances. They’re the features of the toaster. We’re the electricity that makes it work. I had to lose everything I had built to figure that one out. Once my marriage, home, business, students, money and identity were gone, it was just me — I had to be OK with that.

Your ego is not your life. Learning how to lose isn’t about being resound to failure. Losing is vital because it’s the only way to discover that life will go on when you do. The first time I lost something when I was sure I’d win was devastating. Everything I believed about myself was shattered. My invincibility was gone. Once I realized that defeat wasn’t death and the people that mattered would love me either way, I began to enjoy every aspect of competition instead of only focusing on the result. It wasn’t until I stopped giving a shit that things clicked. Being afraid of the embarrassment of failure is guaranteed to keep you from enjoying success.

Forgive your fear. Far worse than being afraid was my sense of shame. I hated that I wasn’t brave, like the thugs in my neighborhood. To me, being tough meant never being scared. As I became dedicated to martial arts and more interested in understanding fear, I realized that all those guys were probably just as scared as me. It would have been abnormal for me not to be afraid. The environment was so consistently charged with the potential for violence that I frequently lived in a survival state. Getting out unscaved would have taken a level of psychopathy I didn’t possess. When I forgave the little kid I was for being afraid, the shame melted away and the residual fear soon followed.

Whatever happens, everything always works out. You always know you’re in the right place because that’s where you are. No matter what, the world will keep moving on. It will do the same thing it’s doing now when you’re gone. You don’t need to worry quite so much about making the wrong choice when you accept that it doesn’t really matter what choice you make. Yes, of course you matter, your family will miss you and you’re a beautiful soul — all that jazz. But in the end, the world will continue to unfold, and the Earth will be incinirated by the sun — so fuck it. Embrace the experience but don’t cling to any result.

Step up. A sure fire way to kick fear’s ass is to look it in the eye and blow it a kiss. Fear is a bully. It’s all talk. It will try to shout you down until you grovel your way back to mediocrity. Pick something you’re afraid of and do it! Don’t try to not be afraid. Be afraid and do it anyway. But here’s the important part: Smile while you’re doing it. For me, it was roller coasters. I hated them as a kid. They terrified me, and each time I got on one, I regretted every click up to the top. The thought was always the same, “Why did I get talked into this? Let me off!” I never enjoyed the ride, closing my eyes tight and clenching my body until the hellish few seconds was over. One day, I decided that roller coasters represented the fear I wanted to conquer, so I got on the legendary Cyclone. It’s the old, rickety wooden monster at Coney Island in Brooklyn. The thing screeched a death knell and I loved it! I forced myself to smile from the moment I sat in the seat. I told myself that if that car came off the track, I was gonna soak in my final moments. I was sick and tired of being afraid of fear. My mindset shifted, and the click clack became excitement and anticipation instead of anxiety and fear. Funny how those can feel the same.

If you wanna take it a step further, start embracing pain. It may sound a little masochistic, but I like to stare at the needle when it goes in at the doctor. I like going to the dentist. They both used to scare the shit out of me. Even though I had always sought out the painful burn of a brutal workout, it was the pain I deemed unwanted that I sought to relabel. Smiling at the dentist or laughing after my knee was popped back into place in training were not ways to prove to myself that my body was tough, but that my mind was strong. The anticipation of pain is normally much worse than the physical sensation. Change the way you see pain and the way you interpret the sensation will transform

Of course, no one is fearless — unless they’re a psychopath. Fear will always be with you. It’s what you do with it that determines how far you go. The fluttering in your belly is a sign to take action that scares you because it will force you to grow. The quicker your pulse, the bigger the potential change. Don’t deny your fear. Jump on, throw your hands up and enjoy the beautifully terrifying thrill ride.

[magicalcreeks]

Cargo Car Confessions

Day 1: October 15 -First Time-

Summary: When Kenny ditches his bad date he relies on Stan and weed to make him feel better, even if that required them sharing embarrassing confessions and perhaps a kiss.

I’m so excited for @stenny-week and in some places it’s October 15th already so i wanted to post early! Please enjoy!

...

Stan had just stolen the ball from Cartman, blocking him from behind as he clutched the ball in his chest before thrusting it forward in a successful pass. Kyle caught the ball with ease— that was just one of the many perks to being on the basketball team— then he jumped off his back foot to slam dunk the ball into the hoop. The force of the dunk caused the hoop to shutter. it loosened the black sticky tape used to keep the hoop together after years of abuse and neglect.

“This is bullshit!” Cartman huffed with a healthy sheen of sweat coating his face, giving him the appearance of grease-soaked tomato.

“Sorry, dude. We won.” Stan stopped the ball with his foot then picked it up with his hands. Kyle did his winning trot towards Stan, holding his hand out for a high five, “good job, man.”

Cartman wasn’t done with his childish protest, “well!” He began, searching for the words he wanted to say before stammering at the two pairs of eyes staring at him, “well...” again, he struggled, wishing Kenny was here to back him up.

“It’s not a fair game because Kenny isn’t here!” A-ha, he got them now. Kyle and Stan moved over to the bench where Kyle dabbed his forehead and neck with the towel he brought with him. Stan tossed him an extra Gatorade.

“Kenny’s not here because he’s on a date.”

“Exactly, which means we’re down a player, which also means it’s not fair game.”

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look.

“Whatever, dude.”

“Ya know what, screw you guys! I’m going home!” Was Cartman’s declaration. He kicked aside an empty can of beer left by either upperclassmen or a drunken adult. It was hard to tell nowadays.

Kyle rolled his eyes, pushing up a stack of curls that have fallen from his loose bun, “you can’t go home, fatass, all of our shit is at your house.”

“Can’t hear you! I’m busy going home, you gaywads!”

Stan felt three pulses from his pocket, ignoring his friends bickering to divert his attention to the texts he was receiving. His body shifted sideways on the bench, heart racing with excitement as he half expected the texts to be from Wendy. Perhaps she wanted to get back together even though they broke up in middle school. She made it clear that she had no intention of being his boyfriend, even going out with Token of all people, until he suddenly had some sexual awakening; realizing he would rather suck dick instead of being with one of the hottest girls in school.

He rolled his eyes hard, taking on one of Kyle’s many mannerisms as he recalled past events. Cartman and Kyle’s idle chatter sounded nothing more than muffled sounds— like someone yelling behind a thick glass. Stan unlocked his phone.

Kenny: Hey, man, you busy?

Kenny: wanna meet me at our spot?

Kenny: nvm, ur probs with Kyle and Cartfuck—

A quiet chuckle escaped Stan’s parted lips. He continued to read the text:

Kenny: — u know where I am. Ps. I got weed ;)

His eyes glossed over those messages more times then Stan could count, “Stan? Stan? What the hell are you smiling at? It’s kinda creepy.”

Kyle was left standing in front of him with a slight concern dampening his features. The towel he’d previously used now slung around his neck, pale and covered with speckles of faint brown freckles.

“Uh...” Stan licked his lips, contemplating an excuse he could tell his best friend and have it sound believable. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Literally. He pocketed his phone, rubbing sweaty palms on his sweats.

The weather in South Park had been warmer than usual considering it was the middle of October. While Halloween decor met the eyes of anyone passing through their neighborhood, some houses started early with stabbing turkey and pilgrim lawn ornaments in their front yards. Global warming, said Randy like a scratched record over their dreaded dinners. According to him, it was real and ready to fuck us raw in the ass.

Kyle tapped his foot impatiently for an answer, hands resting subconsciously on his hips. His posture resembling one of his mothers when she was about to scowl them. Stan snorted.

“I gotta go, uh, my sister wants me to pick her up a box of tampons?” As he spoke aloud it sounded more ridiculous then it had in his head. What the hell, Stan? Your sisters in college you dumb fuck.

“She’s back for Halloweengivings... My parents thought it would be better to combine both holidays. Nothing better than carving a pumpkin and shoveling down cranberry sauce.”

Kyle blinked, “Uh, okay?”

“Great!” Stan shot up from his seat, giving Kyle a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll text you later, dude!”

He walked with a quickened pace, afraid that Kyle would try to stop him for questions. Sometimes he nagged more than he realized, even though he was only trying to be a good friend. A rain of guilt washed over Stan for lying to Kyle. He lied before. Plenty of times actually.

Once safely around the corner of the block, Stan made haste to Kenny doing god knows what by himself when he was supposed to be on his date with Tammy. Without a doubt she was hot, returning to South Park after moving to California. When she returned she developed an ego bigger than Cartman’s ass, along with an attitude comparing to none of the other girls in their grade. California changes people. Too bad she was still a slut.

At least that’s what the girls said.

Stan slowed his walking. He sniffed the burning grass as he approached their spot— the abandoned railway just minutes away from Kenny’s house. Tilting his head up at one of the many cargo cars rusted from years of weather damaged, he recognized the graffiti drawn on the sides. As well as the smell.

“You got a head start without me, asshole?” His voice echoed through the abandoned field of cars, picking up a rock to chuck at the rusted door. It bounced off the metal with a loud hallowed clink.

“Stan the man.” Kenny pulled the door aside, greeting his friend with widespread arms. Stan felt his heart thump.

“Move aside.” He hoisted his body up, then knee crawled over to his respective end of the car. Stan knocked aside the junk they collected; consisting of empty bottles of wine stolen from his dad, single cans of beer Kenny snagged from Kevin’s pack which steadily grew into a rather nice collection for them, darts, slingshots, and a bunch of other shit.

Kenny closed the door after Stan was in. Instead of relying on the crack of light from the setting sun, the inside of the car was illuminated with a string of Christmas lights connected to a lengthy power cord hooked up to Kenny’s house. Together they had made the perfect “man” cave.  

“I thought you were on a date,” Stan said, knees hugging his chest as if he was intruding in the space they created together. Those nauseating butterflies returned to flutter around his stomach.

“I was, then I left.” Kenny passed over the joint sloppily rolled together as if he had done it halfheartedly to quickly get the relief he desired. Stan was no expert at rolling anything. Even he knew it wasn’t his best work.

Kenny hooked a section of his sandy blonde hair behind his ear, exposing the multiple piercings neatly aligned on his outer lobe. He’s done all his piercings himself. Stan bummed off the joint. He attempted to quiet his mind from the indirect kiss from Kenny by smoking it out with the burning kush.

“She’s a bitch. There’s a big difference between being with her to get my dick sucked and actually pursuing a relationship.” Kenny spoke with a bitterness behind his words, “I don’t know. I thought it would be easier to ask her out considering we had a thing before. She’s changed.”

Stan shrugged, slouching back with eased muscles as the joint burned slowly between his fingers, “so you text me?”

A lopsided grin stretched across Kenny’s face, showing off the tooth missing from an accident he had when they were kids and crooked teeth unfixed from his families lack of money to get him braces.

“Of course! You’re my best friend after all. Besides, you wouldn’t judge me like Kyle would.”

“Yeah...” Stan’s voice trailed, eyes following the posters they tapped on the car walls, “he can’t help himself.”

“Yeah, he really can’t.”

They sat in the comfortable silence they created, the two of them passing the blunt back and forth until it became roach and they could no longer smoke it. Their minds were hazed yet relaxed. Nowadays drugs were the only thing able to ease their teenage minds from the angst and stress. Stan found this to be his only escape from the suffering thoughts thanks to his depression and anxiety. Kenny smoked for his own reasons. He just wanted to chill from time to time.

“I thought you were Wendy.” He spoke slow and a bit sluggish, tongue untied and free.

“I thought you were over her, man. She’s no good for you.”

“I love her...” Stan admitted, clutching the fabric on his grey sweats between his hands. He still loved her, he always will.

Kenny spun the dart between his fingers, eyes locked on the boy across from him.

“I could... distract you.” His offer did not go without the flush of red spreading across his cheeks.

“I’m not... I’m not gay.” Stan’s throat tightened and suffocated his words.

“Neither am I... I mean... I think everyone is hot. Guys, Girls, and those in between.” Kenny admitted, crawling over towards Stan to take a seat next to him. They were close enough in the cargo car that Stan could smell the scent of aftershave emitting from Kenny’s body. He felt his stomach twist and turn at two things. Kenny’s confession and the fact they were so close to one another.

He was hot, funny, and Stan could always be himself around him. Instead of Kenny judging or trying to diagnosis his problems like Kyle, Wendy, or his parents, he was allowed to rant and cry out of frustration. They related to each other. Their lives at home sucked just as bad as their friends.

Stan was not gay. From what he knew he was straight with only a few gay mishaps. An embarrassing mishap being the time he got a boner during a sleepover at Kyle’s house. He accidentally walked in on him changing and caught a glimpse of everything. They swore to never speak of it for the sake of not making their sleepover painfully awkward, but Stan could not shake the mental image from his mind as he used his imagination to relieve himself once Kyle had fallen asleep.

Then there was that one time when he was still on the football team and they traveled to Denver to play against their best high school team. He was sharing a room with Craig, Clyde, and Token— to his utter despair since they only spoke in inside jokes which made Stan feel like an outsider. Stan discovered a gay magazine that must have fallen out of one of their bags. While they were fucking around in the pool he stayed behind in the room and allowed his curiosity to roam. He liked what he saw.

Kenny inched closer, resting a hand on Stan’s thigh but doing nothing more because he did not want to do anything if Stan wasn’t comfortable. He did like Stan. A lot.

In those seconds they both sobered up, blue eyes meeting a mysterious purple, adding to the many features Stan loved about him.

“I- I never kissed a guy before.”

Kenny chuckled, “it’s just like kissing a girl, except... Girls taste sweeter. Sort of like fruit because they wear chapstick and shit. Except for Craig-”

“Wait, you kissed Craig?” Stan questioned in disbelief. The weird competition he and Craig had with one another flaring like a newly lit flame ignited from jealousy.

“Spin the bottle. He tasted like a fucking fruitcake.”

Stan chewed on his lower lip. “Since we’re confessing I only kissed Wendy once... And Kyle. We practiced on each other when we were kids.”

“I thought you said you never kissed a guy?”

“T-That doesn’t count! We’re like super best friends so it wasn’t a real kiss!” Stan felt himself get defensive, not appreciating the skeptical looks Kenny was giving him. It was completely normal and not gay for friends to practice on one another.

“Chill, I’m joking-“

Stan silenced him with a kiss. Tensions melted away at the contact of their lips. Kenny tasted as sweet as old candy, also weed. Creating a strange yet familiar flavor. His tongue swept the bottom of his lip, making Stan look more confident than what he was.

Kenny pressed in, moving his tongue around for an entrance into his mouth. Their kiss was sloppy, awkward— because of the angle they were in— but exhilarating.

When they pulled apart for air, Stan was as winded as he was during his game with Kyle and Cartman. He had never experienced a kiss quite like that.

“How was I...?” What else could he say? He and Kenny just kissed for fucksake! Was he going to say thank you?

“Kissing Kyle really helped.” Kenny joked, nearly falling to his side from the playful shove from Stan.

“You weren’t so bad either. That was like my first real kiss, dude, so I guess you took my kissing virginity.”

“You’re so lame.”

Stan flipped him off, hugging his body with his hands. He just kissed Kenny. Him and Kenny, lips locked, in full make out. What were they now?

“You okay?” Kenny pried one of Stans' hands out from his weird human arm wrap, playing with his fingers before sliding his own in between. There was no way he could know how Stan feels now but he only dreamed about being his boyfriend, fantasizing about the pathetic crush he had since they were 13 years old.

“So are we dating?” Stan blurted. He was unable to look at Kenny’s eyes just in case he said no or something else which might break his heart for the second time.

“I would say we are... if you want too. We don’t have to tell the guys yet if you’re not ready.”

“So...” his tone a childlike whisper, “I guess this means I’m gay? Do I have to have, like, a big coming out party.”

Kenny smiled, “you don’t have to put a label on everything. Look at me. Who cares if you’re straight, gay, or bi. Be with whoever makes you happy.”

Stan nodded. He unraveled from his hold around his body to lean into Kenny, holding his hand tight. Right now he didn’t want to think. He just wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the moment.

“I’m going to punch Craig for kissing you, I hope you know that.” He murmured, knocking his shoe against Kenny’s.

“It was two years ago, babe. Besides, I would much rather kiss my boyfriend then Tucker.”

Stan’s heart raced again. Boyfriend. That’s right. They were boyfriends now. The title sounded like music to his ears.

Eat shit Craig Tucker.

...

[purplesurveys]

424

A health survey. Must be fun.

What health problems do you have right now? Well my back is a bitch 24/7; my joints hurt when it gets cold; I have scoliosis; and mentally speaking I’m not very stable either. I sound 60. Are you in chronic pain? Never been diagnosed with such, no. What do you take medications for? I don’t. I probably need to, but the state of mental health care in the Philippines is just so inaccessible: it’s expensive, available services are few and far between, and anyone younger than 21 needs to get written consent from their parents, which can be difficult if someone’s parents don’t actually believe in mental health issues. There is a lot of work to be done. What are some health issues you have had in the past? My lactose intolerance was a problem when I was an infant. My family didn’t know I had it, so they kept panicking when I would just poop out all the milk they fed me all day and when my stomach would end up storing nothing. It got critical and I had to be sent to the hospital, but it turned out well after. Do you have allergies? Nope. Free to eat and be in contact with anything.

If so, what are you allergic to? Have you ever been to an allergist? No, never had to. Have you ever been to the ER? Mmm nope, never been in an emergency situation. Have you ever been treated poorly in the ER? Have you ever been told your symptoms were anxiety, when they weren't? I haven’t been tested for that. When I was doing my health exam for university though, they did review my mental health and suspected me of having depression, but they didn’t declare symptoms or formally diagnose me or anything. What is the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? Probably scraping and kicking my feet against coral reefs when I went snorkeling back in ‘09. I had no flippers and I was panicking (I wasn’t used to using the snorkeling mask to breathe) so I was thrashing my legs around in the water. I knew I was hitting the coral reefs and they were fucking sharp, but I was panicking so I powered through even though it meant I had to hit them every time I kicked. It was painful while I was swimming and even more painful in the weeks that followed. It was the worst infected wound I’ve ever had. Just imagine kicking a razor-sharp boulder with your bare feet. How many surgeries have you had? Zero. I hope I never need any, the thought of surgery terrifies me. What types of surgery have you had? Have you always recovered well from surgery? Have you ever been treated poorly by a doctor? YES!!! The ones in my university’s health service are horrible. Case in point, my health exam for admission to UP: I know it’s part of a doctor’s job, but the doctor assigned to me back then touched my breasts very hastily to check for suspicious bumps. It would have helped tons if 1) she gave me a heads-up beforehand and 2) asked permission, but this lady just told me to lie down and went ahead to stick her hand under my shirt. As someone who had only been fresh out of Catholic school at that point, it was the perfect opportunity to panic. Same doctor was the one who suspected I was depressed after reviewing my mental health form, but instead of being helpful she DEMANDED reasons why I felt that way. I was already uncomfortable with the boob incident by then and was too stunned to speak, so I just kept saying I was fine and that I was mentally stable. In reality I just wanted to get out from that nasty old bitch. Have you ever had a doctor tried to kill you? Oh well that’s just taking it a million times further. No. Is your primary care doctor a man or a woman? I don’t have one. Have you had the same primary care doctor your whole life? We don’t have a family doctor. Are you happy with your current doctor? Have you ever seen a specialist for anything? X-ray technicians. I had trips to see them the most when we found out I had scoliosis.   What is the most itchiest thing you have ever experienced? I had weird rashes on my legs one time in high school, and since I was stubborn I kept scratching them until they turned into nasty black and blue wounds/bruises and cuts. I still have no idea where they came from. Have you ever had a severe itch, that you'd rate a 10? ^ That. On a scale of 1-10, what's the worst physical pain you've ever been in? The coral reef incident is an easy 20. Have you ever passed out from pain? Noooooo. Passing out from pain is one of my greatest fears. I avoid encountering anything painful as much as I can just because I’m scared of the thought of passing out because of pain. Have you ever thrown up from pain? Nope. Just from drinking and expired barbecue lmfao. Do you have any food intolerances? If so, to what? It’s not official, but I hate fruits. Like, I can immediately tell if something has fruit in it and I will spit it out accordingly. That and raisins. Do you have any food sensitivities? If so, to what? Nope. What medications are you allergic to? Do you have acne? A small pimple shows up every now and then (mostly when I’m stressed or if my face gets oily) but it’s never been a full-on breakout. I’ve been lucky when it comes to acne. Do you take birth control pills? I don’t. I want to take them just because I heard it makes your breasts get bigger hahahahahaha but Gab is adamant about not letting me take them. Are your hormones screwed up? Mm no, they’re not that bad. Obviously they act up when I’m nearing or on my period e.g. cravings, crying all the time, being sensitive about everything, but not to the point that my period is irregular or gives me severe dysmenorrhea. Do you have bad withdrawals from medications? I don’t take meds to begin with. What are some withdrawal symptoms you've had? What are some bad side effects of medications that you've had? Have you ever gained weight from a medication? If so, how much? Have you ever had to take Prednisone? Never even heard of it. If so, did it make you gain weight and make your face puff up? Looks like I’m skipping lots of questions. How many hours a sleep do you need? Don’t adults need 8 hours, in general? How many hours a sleep do you get? I try to make it to 8, but I’ve been really busy for this semester that it ends up being 5-7 hours instead. Do you exercise enough? I don’t at all, haaaaaaaaaaah. Do you eat healthy? I do like vegetables and will happily eat salads and sandwiches with veggies packed in them, but I tend to balance it out with grossly unhealthy food anyway, so you decide if this still counts as healthy. Are you on a special diet for your health? No, I don’t think I need to be. Are you trying to lose weight or gain weight? Gain, which I’m on the way to doing. I’m a little chubbier now compared to high school. Are you a healthy weight? I’m 90 lbs. the last time I checked. Relative to my height, that’s underweight. Are you happy with your weight? Sure, but gaining a few pounds wouldn’t hurt either. How often do you wash your hair? Everyday if I’m in school; every other day if I’m on summer break. Do you take showers or baths? Showers. How often do you shower or bathe? ^ Same thing. Do you take vitamins? If so, which ones? I used to take two vitamin syrups everyday when I was younger: one for vitamin C and the other to help me grow taller. When I got a little older my mom changed our usual syrups to these cute vitamin C gummy bears, then after a while I just stopped taking. What bones have you broken? Haven’t broken any, fortunately.  What's the worst physical injury you've had? Aside from my icky foot infection, I had a bad fall in school a few months ago and my ankle got sprained pretty bad. I don’t think I gave it A+ treatment so it never really fully healed. I know this because the same foot still hurts whenever it’s in an odd position or when I shift too much of my weight on it. Do you have sensitive skin? Yes. It eventually gets itchy when my skin is out in the open. In high school, I often had a hard time walking from point A to B because my skin would always get irritated, but I couldn’t scratch it because I was wearing a skirt. What chemicals make you sick? Toxic ones, I would assume? Haha. What time of year do you usually get sick? I never get sick. What's the highest fever you've ever had? 40ºC. It was a dengue scare. Have you ever had the flu? Sure, a few times here and there. Have you ever had bronchitis? Nope. Have you ever had an ear infection? I don’t remember having one. Do you snore? Only when I’m so tired that I’m 130% passed out. What pain reliever do you use for cramps? My menstrual cramps never get that bad. If you're female, what symptoms do you get when on your period? My pelvis area and legs hurt; I cry over everything; I’m sensitive when people are angry; I will essentially take everything personally; my cravings either change every 5 minutes or I just want one food and I will murder to get such craving; I get very poopy; and sometimes I’ll get very drowsy. Do you have regular periods? Pretty much, yes. Sometimes they’ll be a few days early or late but very rarely does it go completely irregular. Are you afraid of shots? Deathly afraid. Like I would do everything to avoid having to take them.  Have you ever donated blood? No. Even if I wanted to, I’m not allowed to (underweight). Plus you have to be pricked for that, which is a Huge No-No for me. Do you do well with shots? If I absolutely have to have a shot, I can manage albeit with a lot of fidgeting. What I’m terrible with is IV. I had a huge meltdown the one and only time I needed to have a needle injected onto my wrist. I was a 12 year old grown ass person thrashing around in the hospital room lol. What x-rays have you had? Just my spine. Have you ever gotten a pill or a piece of food stuck in your throat? Pill-stuck-in-throat sensation happens sometimes, but it’s never been anything serious. What method of birth control do you use, if applicable? Do you take birth control to control hormones, or to prevent pregnancy? As mentioned, I don’t take it. How often does your hair need to be washed? I don’t know about need, but I wash it everyday or every other day so that it doesn’t get oily, which feels irritating. What do you keep on hand for emergencies? I don’t really keep stuff for emergency, just money hahaha. Have you ever had a severe allergic reaction? Nopes. If so, what were your symptoms? Have you ever used an epi pen? I have not. Have you ever been to the ER for a severe allergic reaction? Negative. What's the worst burn you've ever had? When I was 7, I wanted to do something daring so I touched a clothes iron that was plugged in and was in use (by my grandma, but she left to attend to something at the time). My index finger rightfully had a tiny blister for the next two weeks. My dumbass definitely deserved it. What's the worst allergic reaction you've ever had? No allergies. Have you had any health-related embarrassing moments? I don’t think anything bad enough has happened yet. If so, what happened? (if you want to share) Do you use tampons or pads? Pads. I’m scared of tampons. Do you sweat a lot? I don’t, actually. I drink a lot of water, but I guess I just don’t sweat much. Do you get nosebleeds? I’ve never experienced a nosebleed and am also too scared to get one. Do you get motion sickness? Pretty easily, especially if I’m riding an unfamiliar car. Do you have acne? I get a pimple every now and then but it’s not a big issue. Do you have scars? Sure. There’s one on my fourth right toe and the other one on my left eyebrow. What are some of your scars from? Toe scar is from when my toes got stuck in my bike’s blades (something like that, anyway); eyebrow scar is from a stupid cousin smashing a small glass bottle towards my face. Do you have a birthmark? If so, what color is it? I have a brown one behind my left shoulder. I also have one near my elbow; it used to be blue/green but now it’s a faint black-ish shade. What makes your eyes itch? Uh, dirt? I also know if I’ve been spending too much time in front of the computer when my eyes start feeling irritated. That’s usually my signal to go to bed or to have a break. Are you ticklish? Very. I can’t be tickled on any part of my body. Do you have a sweet tooth? I have my moods, but overly sweet food isn’t really a favorite of mine. Do you ever crave chocolate? Never, actually. I can crave sweet stuff like brownies and cookies, but never chocolate bars. Do you ever crave cheese? No. Lactose intolerance makes me wary of cheese so I never really ~crave it. What else, if anything, do you get cravings for? I usually crave for cuisines in general or specific restaurants.  Do you drink enough water? Yeah I’m pretty sure I do. Do you comfort eat when stressed? It varies. Sometimes I’ll rely on eating, but other times I’ll lose my appetite and wouldn’t want to be anywhere near food. How old were you when you started your period? I was 9 but was about to turn 10. How old were you when you started going through puberty? I am guessing the same age when I had my period, but everything sped up only when I was 10/11. What was the first sign of puberty for you? ...My period? Did your hair change when you went through puberty? Hair started to grow in places, but as for changes, not really. At what time of day do you normally feel your best? I don’t really keep track lol. Are you naturally optimistic or pessimistic? Um both, depending on my mood for the day. It never stays constant. Are you naturally energetic? I’m naturally un-energetic. Looking at extroverts exhausts me. Does your mind wander a lot? Only when I’m bored at something, like in a certain class. I can generally focus well. Do you know your blood type? I don’t actually hah. Have you ever been taken to the hospital against your will? Nope. Any final thoughts? Cool survey. It’s different.

[flickafire]

THE QUOTE'S 1 2020

Some people say" do not smoke the herb It will Give you memory problem " and to that I say had empty and I like it that way.

My parallel dimension my rules.

If you think life can't get any worse just remember  that God has abandoned us and the earth is dying Welcome back to watch Mojo.com This is our top 10 reasons why the industrial revolution and it's consequences was a  disaster for the human race at number 10-.

Just About  mcfucking had it.

Crying on an 💖adventure💖

Fuck you anxiety and insecurity Not today begone

 forgive and forget no resent and remember

I'm fuking crazy but i am free

Not trying to flex on anybody when I say I live in a constant seemingly irrepressible state of shame at any given moment I am both ashamed and embarrassed just to be alive so suck on that Liberal

I don't feel good I don't feel great I feel bored and depressed Yeah man This sucks dude Damn!

When will the suffering end when? Until death

You know what else is a common incurance? Wanting to drop dead

 hold up hold up stop the music somebody left ice on the floor and now my sock is wet who the f*** want to die-

Day 23 in the chamber ain't found me yet but when they do they're going to be surprised

I'm a sparkly b**** Glitter glitter glitter m***********

Become door

No go on I dare you I tripled door dare you to have the audacity To tell me that I'm not a door

2020 might not be The end of your world but it's the end of mine skirt skirt

Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing.

My body is not a temple It's more like a bar and grill

" I think dogs should vote!" - Griffin Mcroy

This is a PSA do not leave me alone I will have a mental breakdown aaaaaa

"Shut up and go on pace"

"Please speak to me through the body language the Gods"

"If I believe that an animal is capable of choosing evil Then it's a person - Johnny Sims

God is dead it's worm time baby

Mother I crave violence alternatively father I crave violence

Parish

Hippity hoppity your knees are now my property

Ladies and gentlemen the volume inside of this bus is astronomical

God dammit which Ninja Turtle are you, We can't possibly all be Donatello It's not mathematically possible, Somebody needs to be that stupid rat

F****** f****** f*** they them what are you plural? YES I'M 3 DOGS IN A TRENCH COAT AND  YOU WILL REFER TO ME AS SUCH

 the people love me does anybody Love you no but I'm really good with guns now dance bitch!

I made a hat that's powered by sadness

Coliseum 2 We gave the lion a gun and you won't believe what happens next

Whenever somebody asks what you're doing say I'm invested in demons

 and if anybody asks you if you're okay or how are you just say something that isn't what a person would expect

 like  nothing much how about you or the Demons Inside of My Soul is telling me to commit arson but you know or even I don't know

Drink some water also f*** Society

 no one's stopping except the police and if you release enough trained rats not even them

I have not slept for a week my blood flows with Red Bull and Xanax

Yeehaw Chucklefucks

 mercury: What What's up with kids nowadays You never see them having a good wholesome time at a bar

Juno: they changed the age from 8 back to 18 years ago

Mercury :How do you like your whiskey J

Juno: with an active desire to do me harm Mercury: asked about your whiskey not your men but okay

This maze goes up three stories three stories of Fun guys

 Nureyev: Juno turn away please I'm going to stab Mr angstrom to death now

No passion Deep hatred

At the speed and power of lesbianism I'm here

I just bit like four people And then ate mud

No one's crisis is so bad that they change their cereal and their deodorant in same day

I'm in the mood for violence and I reckon that you might be too

 Martin: Oy dick head come down here so we can kick your ass

Tommy :Grab a soda I'll help you see faster!

Bubby :Take that you damnable b****

I just got a random burst of energy and I think it's my body is the last hurra before it completely shuts down

Golden I've graduated preschool every day of my life

I am not breathing hyperventilating at this point

 I will punch lightner and is sad old man twig bones will simply Lake apart under my epic huge meat Fest and he will disintegrate until all that's left is one final book he kept on him at all times simply titled now you fuckd up in ancient Yiddish

Yeah sure You may be verified on Twitter but are you verified in the eyes of God

Where the f*** is Jurgen Leitner If he's still alive I will so deeply wish he wasn't

All going to hell Goodbye♡

Oh baby just wait until I start wreaking havoc in the this trailer Joe's

I'm going to wreak so much havoc cause some drama in the past aisle IDK punch a cantaloupe

Shut up You skin tone chicken bone Google Chrome no home flip phone disown ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadomn genome full-brown monochrome loan Indian Jones Flintstone hormon friend zone Sylvester Stallone sierra leone AutoZone professionally seen silver patrone headass the fuck up

Lactose cuz I can't tolerate you

All my friends hate me and they think I'm an idiot Have a nice day

Time to commit human rights violations to myself

This Utilitarian  spoon is the same spoon I will eat God with after I kill him but for now peanut butter

a freckle quote -"Cuz it's Freckle up in this b**** hey kid I have no I f****** clue well I'm supposed to be doing here how is your feelings I am definitely not on drugs"

I don't know but I kept in my hate drawer

Golden robot gondoliers!

Me thinks the _____ doth protest too much

I Is he!

 been alive for 7 hours!

So where do we get hold of all these corpses!

You fuckers you fuckers you motherfucker I will rain hell Fire upon you

 sometimes I think*long pause*and sometimes I don't

Knife detected security alerted

You look like a Vendiagram

 nothing ventured nothing gained

What you have a problem Have you tried blowing it up

Why did you drink my moisturizer

Cardinal fang

We are three Buzzwisers We are going to Joe's Crab Shack and we're going to beat up some kids grandma

Some people like slinky they have no real purpose but it makes you smile When you push them down a flight of stairs

Warning spoilers for the end of season 2 of the Magnus archives[ brutal pipe murder intensifies]

[onebizarrekai]

(Dreamswap) What friends are for (3)

First | Previous

Apologies for the delay. I know it’s been quite some time.

Nightmare: Error just got back.

Cross: How can you tell?

Nightmare: Why else would super strong feelings just appear upstairs?

Nightmare: He's in his room.

Nightmare: Bet he had an encounter with Blue.

Cross: Your ability to identify this is both admirable and creepy at the same time.

Nightmare: I'm gonna go talk to him.

(Nightmare goes upstairs and knocks on the door of Error's room.)

Error: Please leave.

(Nightmare opens it anyway. Error is curled up in a ball on the end of his bed and doesn't respond when Nightmare enters. Nightmare sits down next to him, saying nothing.)

Error: …

Error: … what do you want…

Nightmare: I want you to tell me why you keep hiding and trying to take care of your problems by yourself.

Error: … because… they're mine.

Nightmare: I can't let you do that. It's not working and you know it.

Error: I… I don't care if it works, I just want to be alone right now.

Nightmare: That'll only make this worse.

Nightmare: You ran into Blue, didn't you?

(Error quivers and clenches his teeth.)

Nightmare: … that's too bad.

Error: Haha, yeah, 'too bad'…

Error: There are worse things…

(Error is starting to glitch sporadically again.)

Error: I can't stand his presence, he makes me sick… I can only imagine that I hate him.

Error: He used me, I was just another plaything to him. It… pisses me off so much!

(Error clutches at his legs, his hands shaking.)

Error: And then he just… he just goes ahead and acts like I suddenly have a reason to trust him!

(Nightmare slowly rubs Error's back.)

Error: How… could he even do that?!

Error: The worst part is, I don't even know if I can! I almost wish I could, but… no, I don't! I want him to go away!

Nightmare: …

(They hear another knock at the door. Cross opens it slightly.)

Cross: Hey Error…

Cross: … do you need some feel-better chocolate?

Error: ……..

Nightmare: He needs the feel-better chocolate.

(Cross tosses it into the room and Nightmare catches it flawlessly. Nightmare hands the chocolate to Error as the door closes.)

(Error still says nothing.)

Nightmare: So, what do you want to do about this.

(Error tears open the chocolate bar's wrapping.)

Error: Frankly, I want to hide and wait for my problems to go away, but that hasn't worked for the last however long.

Nightmare: So you're going to–?

Error: Drink several cups of coffee and mope around anyway.

Nightmare: Error, you know we have to figure this out.

Error: I can't. Not now.

Error: I need a coherent thought process in order to actually make decisions.

Nightmare: … okay. All right then. If you want to wait this out, then you can. I'm just worried about you.

(Error sits there in silence as Nightmare stands up.)

Nightmare: Try to not drink too much coffee, okay?

(He leaves the room.)

(…)

(Error didn’t realize that Nightmare has other plans in mind.)

Cross: Now you're leaving?

Nightmare: Hey, I can leave if I want to, man.

Cross: I'm gonna be super pissed if you get caught.

Nightmare: Don't worry so much. I should be fine.

Cross: … should, you say…

Nightmare: (… this is where he said Blue lives… right?)

Nightmare: (… what am I doing. Why the hell would he be home if Error just ran into him?)

Nightmare: …

Nightmare: (… unless… he came here on purpose…)

Blue: What are you doing here?

(Nightmare spins around, noticing Blue behind him.)

Blue: What, does this have something to do with Error?

Blue: Did he tell you about our little encounter?

Nightmare: What the hell did you say to him?

Blue: Like I would tell you, little runaway.

Blue: And you better be doing just that before I get bored and decide to turn you in right now.

Nightmare: …

Blue: What are you looking at?

Nightmare: … Fine. I'm leaving.

(Nightmare opens a portal and goes through it.)

(Nightmare just felt it. He had actually felt something from Blue, something aside from the usual. He noticed the frustration, the confusion… more importantly, he noticed something he had learned to recognize a long time ago.)

(Loneliness.)

(Nightmare walks into the house to see Error lying face-down on the couch.)

Nightmare: Hey, um, Error--

Error: You tried to talk to him, didn't you.

Nightmare: Was it really that obvious?

Error: I told you I didn't want you involved.

Nightmare: We only talked for like twenty seconds.

Error: That's the way it is with you, you always just take unwanted initiative and start doing things on your own.

Nightmare: Yeah, that's right. That is always what I do.

Error: Well it's not cool.

Nightmare: You know, I went in and read his feelings.

Error: …

Nightmare: He was being rather hostile, but he was actually feeling depressed and lonely.

Error: He can suck it up.

Nightmare: You want to see him, don't you?

Error: No! I don't!

Nightmare: I felt that, there was a little glimmer of hope--

(Error stands up, clenching his fists.)

Error: THIS IS SERIOUS! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!!

Nightmare: …

(Error stops and sits back down.)

Error: … dammit…!

Error: I don't know what to do!

(He chokes out his words as tears begin to fall from his eyes.)

(Nightmare stands there in silence, not sure what to do. But before he can even make a decision, Error stands up, shakes his head, and makes a portal.)

Nightmare: Error--

Error: Sorry.

(Error goes through the portal and it closes behind him.)

(…)

(He sits there, staring out into space.)

(The Outertale treatment isn't really working this time.)

(Error glances down at the needles in his hands, feeling no inspiration to continue. He sighs, throwing the needles through a portal straight into his room.)

(He keeps feeling chills, glancing around himself from time to time, continuously expecting Blue to be right next to him just as he was earlier that day.)

(But it's quiet, and he is alone, just as always.)

(Why does it hurt so much?)

(Anxiety is boiling in him, refusing to go away. He has stopped glitching by now, but he can still feel it. It's rushing through his entire body, in his chest, in his head, even his hands…)

(Error viciously shakes his hands and the feeling does not leave.)

(Not knowing what else to do, Error lies down in the dirt, staring up at the space above him.)

(Perks of Outertale. No bugs.)

(He has to make a decision. He can't just hide from this, he must do something about this.)

(Can he really trust Blue? Is he willing to?)

(If Blue shows up right now, what will he do?)

(Blue had manipulated him, mentally abused him, and toyed with him like a plaything. He doesn't deserve Error's trust.)

(Error can feel thumping in his chest, sending more anxious feelings coursing through him.)

(Show him who's boss…)

Error: (Frick that, there's no way I can do that.)

(Imagine how funny it would be if Blue like, actually liked you. Oh wait, that wouldn't really be funny, would it.)

(Error abruptly sat up, lightly hitting his own face.)

Error: (How about no.)

(Man, if you were like, another shipper and not you, would you ship yourself with him?)

Error: (NO, I don't need MORE mental abuse.)

(More like amore.)

Error: (Why the hell is my conscience so obnoxious today?!)

(Blue doesn't want to hurt you. You should give him a chance.)

Error: …

(Remember that rock you saw?)

Error: (It said…)

(He pauses in thought.)

Error: (That was a blatant indication of the fact that he sees me as a possession. An object. A toy.)

Error: (Take that, weird-ass conscience.)

(Or he wants you to be his and is just asserting himself.)

(Error makes a very confused face as he realizes his thoughts are seriously spiraling out of control and into a fictitious territory.)

Error: I don't… want that.

(He mumbles to himself.)

(This isn't a fanfiction. This sort of thing is not as straightforward as whatever an ignorant mind can conjure up.)

Error: (Wow, that thought sounded like Dream.)

(Blue wants to change, didn't you see it? You don't have to be scared of him!)

(Besides, you're stronger than him!)

Error: (… I can't use my powers on him. He always…)

(Okay, maybe you're not stronger than him. But you can always escape!)

(No, wait. Keeping that in mind probably isn't going to make this better.)

(Think about what Nightmare said. No one's opinion is more valid than his when it comes to stuff like this.)

Error: (… he's lonely and frustrated, huh.)

Error: (Well that is literally his own fault. Nobody made him do anything he did, he just decided to be a manipulative jerkface.)

(Can't you give him a second chance?)

(Don't be Dream.)

Error: (… I'm afraid.)

Error: (I don't trust him… he's hurt me so much… and the worst part is that I never even realized it until it was too late.)

Error: (For all I know, this could just lead to repetition of the past.)

(But you have friends now.)

(If Blue hurts you again, they'll kick his ass.)

Error: ………..

(You can do this now.)

(You can play Blue's game.)

(Face the past. Whatever you decide to do is up to you in the end.)

Error: (… Blue…)

Error: (I'm not your toy anymore…)

(Error stands up and brushes himself off. He makes a portal straight back to the Outertale where Blue lives.)

Error: (If he's not home, I'm vandalizing his house.)

(He takes a deep breath and steps through the portal, clenching his fists.)

Error: Hey! Blue! Are you still here?!

(Blue is lying on the roof of his small house, seemingly staring blankly up into the cosmos. He hears Error's voice and immediately sits up.)

Blue: You're… back.

Blue: That was earlier than expected.

(Blue leaps off the roof and lands flawlessly. He starts to walk towards Error.)

Error: I have one question for you.

Error: What the hell do you want from me?

Error: You want to be friends again, or… something?

Blue: Error, I know this must be… difficult… after everything I did…

Blue: But yes… Yes.

Blue: I can't stand being alone anymore…

(Blue continues to walk, and Error simply watches him.)

Blue: Everything was a game… but then it all changed, when I realized that you were all I really had.

Blue: Since… I lost everything… you were all I had…

(Blue's left eye is glitching slightly. He stops walking, keeping a regular distance between him and Error. Blue looks down, gripping his arms.)

Blue: More time passes… I feel like I'm just… falling to pieces…

Blue: I don't know if I can take any more of this…

Blue: … I'm sorry…

Blue: I'm so sorry…

(Tears are falling, and Blue closes his eyes.)

(Error doesn't know what to think. He stands there for a few moments, carefully trying to make a decision.)

(He shuts that off and makes the decision that he feels he needs to.)

(Error walks forward and hugs Blue, ignoring his haphephobic tendencies for possibly the first time.)

(Blue stands there in shock for a few moments, but quickly hugs him back. Error is shaking, but he’s trying his hardest to ignore it.)

Error: I-I understand.

Error: However… you've… you've given me no reason to trust you.

Blue: …

Error: I won't trust you until you prove it.

Blue: Prove it?

(Blue moves away, wiping the tears streaming down his face on his sleeve.)

Blue: Ha…

Blue: And how, praytell, do you suppose I do that.

Blue: How long has it been? How long has it been since it happened?

Blue: I've never once… tried to force you to come back to me… even after you left me behind.

Blue: And I don't blame you for leaving. I really don't.

(Error stays quiet, unsure of what to say. Blue feels him shaking from the contact and lets go of him.)

Blue: I don't want anything from you.

Blue: I just…

Blue: I thought maybe we could put everything behind us.

Blue: Be friends again, at least.

(Error blinks.)

Error: … at least…?

(Blue scoffs a bit, wiping his eyes again as the tears stop.)

Blue: Where is your mind going? I mean, as opposed to good friends?

(Error's face lights up a little.)

Error: I-I'm not--

Error: Obviously!

(Blue smiles, rolling his eyes a bit.)

Blue: Haha, of course.

Blue: Too soon, perhaps?

(Error crosses his arms, almost glaring.)

Error: Fine.

Error: I'll try to like you a little more.

Error: But if you frick this up, there will be consequences. Do you hear me?

(Blue sighs.)

Blue: Yes, I 'hear' you. You're all tough now, aren't you.

Error: Yeah. I am.

Blue: You're still cute, though.

Error: You're fricking this up already.

Blue: Oh, give me a break.

Error: I grant no breaks.

Blue: It was a compliment!

Error: Not out of your mouth it isn't.

Blue: Okay, okay, okay.

(It's almost nice.)

(There is still tension, but slowly, ever so slowly, it's growing calmer.)

(Error feels so powerful. He doesn't know how long it will last, but Blue isn't scaring him so much anymore.)

(What did Blue ever even do to make him so scared…?)

(As for Blue…)

(He can only think about one thing.)

(Never letting Error go again.)

(Error is going to be his.)

[entirebodyexercise]

How exercise saved Mariel Hemingway`s life

Mariel Hemingway matured in a family members where 7 people lost their lives to self-destruction, including her grandpa Ernest. Experiencing anxiety for the majority of her life, Mariel, an Academy Honor chose starlet, found solace-- as well as her balance-- in fitness.

The author of several publications concerning healthy and balanced living and fitness, her newest literary undertaking is co-authored with her companion Bobby Williams, a journey professional athlete, stuntman and star. Called Running With Nature, the book proclaims the virtues of adventurous pursuits (Bobby is a stunt male as well as eco-adventurer) and obtaining outside regularly to detach from modern technology and also reconnect with both nature, and yourself.

I lately talked with Mariel concerning her family members's troubled past, her very own battle with anxiety as well as how nature has recovered her life.

Q: What sort of athletic searches did you have as a child? Mariel Hemingway: I was an enthusiastic ski racer. I have always been an athletic as well as outdoorsy type-- I started skiing when I was just 2 years old! I used up racing when I was 7 and maintained it up until I was 17. There was a great deal of dry-land training as well with being a racer. I matured in Sunlight Valley, Idaho as well as we were constantly doing energetic things outdoors.

I maintained up the snowboarding after 17 although I was not competing. My 3rd movie was Personal Best [when Mariel was 20] and also I educated truly difficult for that since I played a track athlete.

Q: Mental disorder has actually influenced you as well as your family for decades. Just how has workout assisted you eliminate that? MH:I experienced anxiety many of my life, and health and fitness as well as eating well has been crucial in terms of battling this. Particularly in my early youth it was things that saved me because although it wasn't a dreadful home, there were individuals who were having a bumpy ride. My mother had cancer cells and my daddy had cardiovascular disease and also individuals were fighting constantly and there was a great deal of alcohol. And being out and relocating nature is just what made me feel total and also whole.

Q: I recognize yoga exercise played a big part in getting over depression for you. Can you share that experience with us? MH:Absolutely. I do yoga 5 to six days a week and have actually been doing it since my 20s. A pal of mine introduced it to me. She was doing Bikram (warm yoga) and also I started with that and after that I concerned L.A. as well as studied with Bikram himself. I never actually liked the warmth as well as exact same postures constantly, so then I entered power yoga exercise, or even though I was a professional athlete, it sort of kicked my ass. The reason that was as a result of exactly how I really felt after that. There was a feeling of peace, and it just transformed me. It calmed my body and it showed me a whole lot about being present in the moment as well as familiar with my body. It's been extremely vital in helping me survive those darker times.

Q: You have actually blogged about discovering equilibrium in your life. What advice do you give individuals about achieving it? MH:If you were to pick merely two points [to discover equilibrium], the first would certainly be to move your body. It doesn't have to be insane workout. You can simply walk in your neighbourhood. The other thing is to do this exercise with objective and mindfulness. This indicates do just what you're doing when you're doing it. Check out your setting. Take it all in or even breathe it in. That's the practice of existing. It's like relocating meditation and it's an actual life transformer.

An essential part of this is to not be connected to modern technology. Technology is terrific, but there should be a time where you turn it off. With running, as an example, to do it well you need to be totally focused, so it deserves dumping the music player. It doesn't have to be all the time. In some cases I hear songs and also various other times I desire to listen to the birds and the wind in the trees.

And if I can include another point, it would certainly be to inform individuals that moving the body must be a joy. It doesn't have to be considered as drudgery. It ought to be more regarding going out in nature and connecting with on your own and being conscious of just what you're doing.

Q: Mentioning obtaining out in nature, inform me regarding your publication Running With Nature. MH:My co-author Bobby Williams as well as I have been with each other five years currently and we both share a similar viewpoint that nature was the teacher as well as we really felt the exact same way concerning food and exercise and adventure. He's a genuine onlooker of life as well as he's been a terrific educator for me and a real motivation. He educated me climbing up. We were merely out climbing this morning.

Basically, I think as commonly as you can obtain outdoors and also remain in nature is powerful for our spirit. We're meant to be in nature, not vehicles and also buses as well as workplaces all the time. In some cases you need to take your footwears off and also just walk barefoot in nature to absorb several of the power from the earth. And this does not mean you have to survive in the country. I made use of to reside in Manhattan as well as Central Park is so amazing. Great deals of cities have terrific parks, so there is no justification to simply obtain outside a little bit.

Q: Exactly what sports are you right into these days? MH:Besides climbing up, I still downhill snowboarding, as well as I likewise ride my bike as well as go paddleboarding. Bobby is even more of an internet user as well as I've attempted it however I'm dreadful at it. I nearly drowned in Hawaii 15 years back, however I still obtain out on the water even though it makes me anxious. Absolutely nothing truly stops me.

We also go to an outdoor track once a week and also do a great deal of running and also we do kettlebells outside.

Q: How do you remain motivated to exercise? MH: I do not stay with any type of one regimen. When I was dispirited I 'd need to push myself, yet I do so various points currently. I have a backyard that teems with equipment as well as things to do, slack lines and rope ladders and also climbing up ladders. We're about playing.

I let spontaneity take control of. I advise myself that I'm blessed to be able to do something. Having the best mindset changes the standard of just how you feel doing it. Some days I just go out there and also begin moving and also see exactly what takes place, as well as things shift. I'll start off exhausted and head out there anyhow for 5 minutes, as well as a hr later on I'm amazed at exactly how tough I functioned. It's something I get to do not something I have to do.

Today is World Self-destruction Prevention Day. If you, or somebody you recognize, are presently having problem with depression and/or self-destructive thoughts please take a look at the International Organization for Suicide Prevention.

For a lot more, comply with Mariel Hemingway on Twitter.

Columnist James S. Fell, MBA, is a licensed stamina as well as conditioning specialist with the National Toughness and Conditioning Association. His syndicated column "In-Your-Face Physical fitness" for the Chicago Tribune runs in dozens of major papers across the UNITED STATE, and also he additionally meetings celebrities concerning their fitness programs for the Los Angeles Times. Fell is also the senior fitness reporter for AskMen.com. Based in Calgary, he is a devoted jogger, bicyclist as well as weightlifter, as well as wishes he had a lot more possibilities to decline winter sports with his better half and also two children. See his website for a cost-free metabolism report.