#and actually MAKE myself some food that isn’t junk
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Feelin’ real proud of myself for putting my pack of ramen back and going through the effort of unearthing the toaster oven and making myself “poached” eggs and English muffin & guava jelly for (midnight) dinner 😊
#me things#positivity#i haven’t been eating steadily for a long while now#so every movement where I’m able to dredge up the spoons to care#and actually MAKE myself some food that isn’t junk#is worth celebrating#wasn’t sure if I wanted savory or sweet then#was feeling mostly ambivalent about food but I have to take my bro to his appointment so eating was an actual must#aNYWAYS#toasted two English muffins and ate one top with guava jelly#and the other three were dipped in my egg mug#suitably yummy while also being bland enough to stomach!#and!!!#i was even able to use mouthwash and scrub my tongue this time!#self care
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Reader sending a picture of her not very balanced very snacky but yummy meal captioned “girl dinner!!” while Spencer is away on a case and it just turns into Spencer calling her in front of everyone to kindly lecture on how that isn’t an actual meal and how she needs to eat something real/he’ll order something for her LMAO
You're not expecting the immediate call from Spencer after you send him a picture of your meal, but you pick it up anyways with the crunch of a pretzel stick.
"Spence?" You speak through your mouthful, long-since over the illusion of perfection around him.
"Angel," He greets you, worry lacing his sweeet voice, "Is that really your dinner?"
"Yeah," You laugh, looking down at the collection of pretzel sticks and cheesy popcorn that adorn the plate around your bowl of macaroni and cheese, "I don't feel like anything else."
"Sweetheart," He hums, "That's not a very nourishing meal. You're probably going to feel gross afterwards, it's going to make you tired and you're not going to feel very energized tomorrow."
"Spence, I know," You chuckle, adjusting the phone against your ear, "It's girl dinner. It's supposed to be unhealthy and mismatched."
"Girl dinner," He grumbles, his brows probably furrowed adorably. "What-?"
In the background you hear assorted giggles, Prentiss's the most recognizable. You assume that others are JJ and Garcia, and you hope they're enjoying themselves.
"It's a meme," You explain, "An internet joke, Spencer. I'm in the mood for junk food, so instead of forcing myself to eat healthy all the time, sometimes you just have to give in and eat like shit for a night. Girl dinner."
"If you paired it with a vegetable, you'd at least be getting some nutrients," Spencer tries, but you cut him off while you stir your macaroni.
"No vegetables. This is girl dinner. I'm okay, Spence, I'll eat something really good for breakfast tomorrow."
"Okay," He's hesitant to agree, "But- but honey, if you're having trouble preparing yourself food, I can order in for you, okay? Just tell me what you want and I'll wake up early to have it sent over."
"Spencer!" You giggle, eager to get to your less-than-balanced meal, "Okay. This is just a one-time joke, okay? I thought it would be funny to send you. You don't have to worry."
"I worry about you all the time," He confesses, and you know it's meant to be flattering instead of insulting, "I'll have fresh fruit delivered for you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay, Spencer." You finally concede, "Okay. I love you."
"I love you too," Now you hear the relaxed smile in his voice, "Enjoy your- uh, girl dinner."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction
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VALENTINE’S DAY.
pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.
summary: on valentine's day everything seems to have a discount for couples, so why not pretend to be one to save some money and have fun?
content warnings: fake dating trope, hurt/comfort, pining, some mildly suggestive content, confessions.
note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first ever works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually a request sent to me from a prompt list i can’t find anymore, and it was about sirius black. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.
“YOU SHOULD COME WITH US.” your friend maris says, applying lipstick in front of her mirror.
“and be the third wheel?” you ask from your spot on her bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “it’s bad enough you are dating my brother.” sighing, you toss the magazine having lost all your attention. “besides, i’m sure aegon and aemond are on their way.”
at the sound of their names, cregan’s head appears in the door. “you didn’t hear?”
“what?” you roll your eyes.
“aegon has a date.” the couple says, looking at each other, and then you.
“he what? fucking traitor.” you get up, going for your phone. “didn’t even have the decency to tell me. but he’s go—aemond is calling me… i swear to the seven if he’s going to cancel our plans i’m goin’ to kill myself.”
cregan laughs, calling you a dramatic as he walks away.
“you heard?”
aemond laughs. “yea’, i played matchmaker.”
“aemond?!”
“stop being so dramatic, i’m on my way.”
“and who the fuck is his date?” you ask again.
you hear him sigh, but you really want to know who’s this girl your friend is ditching you for. “just a friend.” his answer doesn’t make you feel better at all. it’s silly but this tradition of the three of you eating junk food and watching slasher movies has been going on for three years. it all started the valentine’s day your useless ex-boyfriend dumped you and both of them cancelled their dates to stay with you. you never really thought this day would come.
“it’s okay, just one more reason to be mad about.” you collapse on the couch, going immediately for the remote to search for a movie. “you bringing the food, right?”
“about that…” you sigh, ready to be stood up. “maybe we should go out.”
“what?”
“just make sure to be ready by the time i get there.”
then the call cuts out.
maris and cregan look puzzled at you, asking what’s going on without actually asking. you shrug and that is the only answer you give them, because you really don’t know what his plans are.
and not even five minutes have passed when aemond is knocking on the door.
an expression of pure terror crosses your face and before cregan opens the door, you run to maris’ bedroom.
“what’s going on?” she asks, her dress half buttoned.
“aemond said something about going out,” you explain while going through her clothes. “and m’not going out in sweatpants.”
you find a red skirt that goes with one of your tops and with a little help from your raven-haired friend you have as a roommate, ten minutes later, with an “are you done?” coming from the living room, you are ready to go to wherever your friend is taking you.
aemond is chatting with cregan, neither of them aware of your presence, so you take the time to look at him… like really look at him.
he’s wearing his leather jacket, the one he got during sixth year at boarding school and hasn't taken off since then, the same one you used to see girls wearing all around campus when he was with them. never the same girl twice. aemond is dressed entirely in black and you can see his chest peeking out from his button down.
aemond catches you staring and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, only to show you what’s behind his back; a bouquet of roses. it’s part of the tradition but it still makes your heart beat faster. you accept it with a smile, smelling them and leaving the bouquet on the table.
you pout, crossing your arms. “are you going to tell me what you have planned?”
“nope, let’s go.” aemond grabs your arm, dragging you out of there.
“no, seriously, he’s kidnapping me and you’re not doing anything.” you protest, looking back at your brother who just laughs, waving you goodbye. “i’m telling mom and dad!”
the door closes behind you and you let him walk you out of the building.
“aaand?” you ask once more, walking down the street, your arm around his.
you see couples everywhere, a few of them with flowers and balloons, holding hands, radiating love. and a part of you wishes for something like that. maybe not the balloons and a lot less cheesy, but the commitment, the tender love, someone with whom you can share your thoughts with, your nights, your future. you want to feel the passion, the need to have someone kissing every part of you, worshiping your body, sleepless night with bodies intertwined. you don’t want a one-night thing; you want it all.
“there’s a restaurant with discount for couples and is giving dessert for free.” his lilac eye looks straight into yours, a lopsided smile on his face. “and i was thinking about eating there, then bring dessert home and watch texas chain saw massacre on your couch.”
“that sounds like a great idea.” you smile, walking beside him a little more excited than before.
“you know we’ll have to pretend to be a couple, right?” he stops walking.
you roll your eyes. “know your limits.”
“i’m serious!”
“i know you've been dying to kiss me since forever, but that’s only going to happen in your dreams.”
he brings a hand to his chest, feigning sadness. “you are cruel.”
you slap his arm, pushing him aside. “fine, but keep your hands to yourself. i’m not one of your groupies.”
“you could be.”
“in your dreams.” he just laughs, walking by your side.
neither of you spoke again, but every time his arm grazed against yours a cold shiver ran down your spine. and that is something you haven’t felt since seventh year, when you walked in on aemond having sex with a girl and couldn’t look him in the eyes for weeks. you weren’t exactly quiet, dropping the books was what gave you away, and the girl was focused on something else, that being her body being pushed against the bed, so the only one who saw you was him. you’d think he would stop, maybe feel embarrassed, right? that is not aemond targaryen. he just kept doing it, eye focused on yours, on the way you held your breath when he moved his pelvis a certain way making her cry out. you were frozen in place, your eyes going from the spot where their bodies met to his eyes, and it was only when he moaned something that sounded a lot like your name, you got out of there.
you couldn’t look at him, opting instead on avoiding him and all the questions from your friends. eventually, what you saw was left in the past, even though he tried to talk about it you didn’t give him the chance. you couldn’t. even if a part of you wanted to know what he was going to say, even if you spent the rest of the year dreaming about it, wishing to be one of those girls. even if you still want to be one of those girls.
“oh gods.” you say, stopping in front of a sushi restaurant full of valentine’s day decorations.
the host greets you and aemond immediately gets into character, hand going to your lower back, right where your top meets the skirt, leaving a few centimeters of bare skin. your whole body reacts at that and it’s like touching the sun.
the whole place is full of heart-shaped balloons hanging from the ceiling, the tables have red tablecloths with red roses in vases, and each one of them is named after a romcom.
“your table.” the host smiles, stepping aside.
“no strings attached? really?” you could cry at how cheesy, awkward and stupid everything is.
“i wanted that one with matthew mcconaughey because it is your favorite, love. but it was already taken.” he seems genuinely sad and you smile, fixing the collar of his button down.
“it’s okay, aem.” you kiss his cheek. “thank you.” you give the man standing in front of you a smile and sit in the booth. it’s discrete and you are grateful for that, not wanting to pretend the whole time you are going to be there, afraid of arousing suspicion.
“your waiter is going to be here any minute. if you’ll excuse me.” the host walks away and you can finally breathe normally.
aemond sits beside you and when you make eye contact, it’s impossible not to laugh.
“i can’t believe we are doing this.” you hide behind your hands, making him laugh even more.
“i knew you’ll like it.” aemond winks at you. “no, but really, i can’t believe how they do this.”
“and how people like it.” you pretend to throw up, and he laughs again. “but at the same time it’s kind of cute?”
“are you serious?”
“it’s cute to see couples enjoying this day, going to restaurants like this and enjoy each other’s company.” you shrug, playing with the rose petals, avoiding eye contact.
“you want that?” he asks, moving closer, creating a bubble around the two of you.
“yeah.” this time you look up, meeting his eye looking intently at you. “i’ve wanted it for a long time, but i think i’m not made for that.”
aemond must see the sadness on your face, because he places his hand on top of yours. you smile, feeling the sudden urgency to run your fingers through his hair.
“i know the right guy for you is out there, maybe you just need to pay more attention.”
“you think so?” you lean towards him, whispering.
“maybe what you’re looking for is… right in front of you.”
you smell the cigarettes and peppermint on his breath and are almost able to see and count all the freckles on his face, you just need to move a little closer to know if his lips are as soft as they seem.
“aemond targaryen?”
a third voice startles both of you, and just like that the moment has passed.
a blonde girl stands in front of the table and by the pad and pencil in her hands you know she’s the waiter. she has green eyes and a bright smile addressed to aemond.
“do you—you known each other?” you ask when a minute has passed and none of them has said a word.
“um, yeah.” aemond moves away from you, hands resting on his thighs.
“i think the word known falls short.” the girl giggles and you want to throw up.
“i thought you were off tonight.” it’s like you are invisible for him right now.
in any other circumstance you wouldn’t care, but not today. not right now, not after what almost happened a moment ago, because you’re a hundred percent sure that if this girl hadn’t shown up you two would be doing a totally different thing.
“i didn’t know you were in a relationship.” her green eyes look at you. “i mean, if i’d known i wouldn’t have gone to your apartment yesterday.” there’s poison in her words, she’s doing it on purpose to hurt you, and succeeding.
you chuckle, closing your eyes. why does it hurt?
aemond says something and you immediately let your guard down, allowing you to believe, and wish, and dream about things that most likely aren’t going to happen. ever.
you thought the little crush you used to have on your brother’s best friend had vanished, but one night with him was enough to know that aemond targaryen still has power over you. that’s why you are never alone with him; you don’t trust yourself.
you never made a big deal about it until that incident in seventh year. that was the moment everything changed. but you were able to get over it, or so you thought.
“it’s okay.” you smile, trying not to look at aemond at all. “we’re just pretending, aemond wanted to get the discount.”
she giggles again. “couples only, sorry.” she doesn’t look sorry at all. “i’ll give you time to look at the menu.” with a flirty little smile, she disappears.
“why did you do that?” aemond asks, touching your arm for a second before you move away. you don’t want him to think something’s wrong, but it’s a little hard for you to pretend you’re not hurt.
“did what?” you play dumb, pretending to look at the menu.
“why did you tell her we’re not together?”
you frown. “’cause we’re not? and you had sex with her yesterday, if we’re going to pretend at least let me have some dignity.”
“you are getting it all wrong.” he huffs, running his hands through his hair. “if you let me explain—”
“you have nothing to explain, aemond.” you say, looking at him and trying to swallow the urge to scream. “i know how you are, we’re friends, remember?”
“but—”
“you know what? i think i would rather order something from mcdonald’s and call it a night.” smiling, you touch his hand trying to make it look like everything’s okay and you don’t want to jump in front of the blonde girl and scratch her face. “you are more than welcome to join.”
you don’t give him time to say something else, standing and walking out of the restaurant in less than a minute. not bothering to look back to know if he’s following, all you want to do is choke on ice cream and watch a movie, the thing you should be doing tonight in the first place.
the night is cold, but it helps to clear your mind.
you’re not even a block away, when his voice makes you stop in your tracks. “i like you.”
you’re surprised by his confession, even a little flame of hope taking place in your heart.
“tonight was supposed to be fun.” aemond sighs, and you know he’s scratching his neck, something he usually does when he’s nervous. “but i messed everything up.”
you stopped breathing after his first confession, but you still can’t turn around because you’re a coward, not sure what to do with a confession you have been dying to hear for so many years.
“i didn’t have sex with her.” you hear his footsteps and, in a second, he’s in front of you, his fingers lifting your chin up, lilac eye locked fixed on your face. “and haven’t had any in a very long time.”
“what?” you can’t hide the surprise in your voice.
he chuckles. “i know i haven’t been good at showing it, but i’ve had a crush on you since forever.”
“stop messing with me, aemond.” you don’t want to believe him, you really want to walk past him and forget this night happened at all. but the part inside of you that still wants this to be real, won’t let you.
“m’not!” both his hands are now on each side of your face, the only thing you can see is his good eye, his lips, the longing on his face. “i’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time… seventh year, to be exact.”
your eyes open a lot more at that. “are you—”
“yes.” he chuckles, his cheeks a soft pink. “it was stupid, but i thought you would take the hint. after all, i moaned your name on purpose.”
“shut up!” your face is burning, you don’t even need a mirror to know you’re blushing hard. “you were having sex with another girl, aemond.”
“but i was thinking of you.”
“that does not make me feel better, y’know.” you step away from him, taking some distance.
“i know, i’m an idiot.”
you silently agree, not jnderstand anything, tonight has been a blurry, a lot of things happening in so little time. old feelings resurfacing, jealousy, heartbreak, happiness.
“but i like you too, idiot.”
his face lights up. “i knew.”
“you—what?” you frown, heart about to get out of your chest.
“i had a feeling.” he shrugs, slowly getting closer to you again, making sure you are not running away this time.
“are you serious?”
“i think i just buried ‘em because was sure nothing was ever going to happen. you were, well, you. and i was not willing to suffer because of those feelings.” your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers interlocking in his soft hair.
“i always thought you deserved much better. and i was a total coward, too afraid of not being what you expected.” he smiles, his hands going to your waist and caressing your soft and delicate skin, still burning for his touch. “and i kept denying it and denying it. denying that my heart beats faster every time you walk into a room, that i want to kiss you every time you laugh, every time you make fun of cregan, or cry watching animal planet, or talk about what you like and don’t like. that the only thing i’ve wanted for years has been to hold you in my arms and touch every part of your body, to make you feel what i feel. to show you what love really means, to show you things you haven’t experienced before. and just… to be by your side.”
all you feel is him, his calloused hands creating patterns on your bare skin, his peppermint breath, his warm, rich, woody scent engulfing you. and for the first time in years, you let those feelings rise to the surface. you let yourself burn for aemond targaryen.
#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond targaryen scenarios#hotd x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd imagine#prince aemond x reader
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binging tips!
I used to binge A LOT, and some things I’ve noticed I’ve done to stop are…
- hiding snacks: I put them in other people’s rooms or in the back of the pantry, I used to binge out of convenience a lot bc I always had snacks in my room so keeping them out of sight put them out of my mind.
- changing snack options: not eating or having junk food around really helped with my cravings bc most junk food isn’t filling. Fruits, nuts, crackers, and protein bars are filling and I’ve switched over to them instead of chips and candy. Once you eat cleaner for a while, you’ll notice that the junk food doesn’t actually taste as good as it did.
- distractions: I picked up some hobbies like reading, art, writing, etc… and even just finding a fun game, making and listening to playlists, or scrolling on here or Pinterest really helped take my mind off of food.
- water: I used to only drink soda (not even diet) and once I switched to only drinking water I noticed I was always fuller. I bought a larger water bottle to keep myself occupied for longer. Water obviously also helps with weight loss and clear skin so that’s a plus!
I know a lot of ppl have given their tips already, but I thought I would share the ones that worked for me. It’s important to remember that not every tip or trick ppl use will work for you!
#tw disordered eating#ed not ed sheeran#pro for me not for thee#anorexcya#i wanna lose weight#bingedisorder#ed not sheeren#tw ana diary#ana tricks
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First Week Outpatient
August 1st-7th
So I discharged around 1pm on that Thursday. For weeks prior I had been taking useless junk home so that on my day of discharge I wouldn’t be walking the hall with ten thousand bags drawing attention to me. I just wanted to leave quietly and not make a big deal about it.
I had to stop at my PACT teams office for my meds. I have a therapist, psychiatrist, case manager and a nurse on my team there. My nurse packs my meds for me in a weekly pill organizer. I’ve always told my IP doctor to not discharge me with a months supply of meds and it just so happened to work out that with PACT they offer the weekly medication pickup. So I went straight there and then headed home because I had a virtual appointment with my therapist at 4.
After that me and my Nana drove my nephew back home in NH cause he had been staying at my Nana’s. On the way back home I stopped to get groceries and was panicking so much in the store. I still remember what stoplight we were at when it became 8:00. Staring at the time I kept thinking I should be back at McLean, this is the latest time you have to return from a pass. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be outside right now. It’s too dark. That day felt like a pass. I remember freaking out in my kitchen that night, hyperventilating and trying to calm myself down saying “you’re going to be back on the campus tomorrow, less than 24 hours, it’s going to be okay, it's going to be okay”.
Anyways, Jesus, if I write so much nonsense these updates are going to be essays. Stick to the important stuff!! Okay so I started PHP the next day on Friday. I’ll add these in the tags but I’ll post a warning here too. There’s going to be talk of drinking and self harm and restricting. So partial was Friday and then Saturday night I got drunk and self harmed for the first time in over 6 weeks. I bought a 6 pack of White Claw and the whole 6 was just the right amount to get blissfully drunk and escape for a bit. Alcohol affects me differently after having weight loss surgery so I honestly don't know if 6 is the standard or way too much?
Monday I told my program psychiatrist and she wanted to look at my arm but I didn’t have extra bandaids so she told me to bring some the next day. I also met with my program therapist and we talked about starting a diary card and what to track. I told her how since I’ve been home I’m not hungry/eating and I’m not complaining. Saturday when I got drunk all I had that day was applesauce around lunchtime. So I mentioned the word “restricting” and tried to give the short version of my fucked up body image, losing (necessary) weight, losing it in a healthy way and also unhealthy ways at times, that I’ve never been diagnosed with an eating disorder but I know I have a fucked up relationship with food and my body….
So later that evening I got a phone call from disability. I should have applied back in September but instead I didn’t apply until April. They said it could take 6 months before I get a decision on my application. For months I kept checking online to see how much of my application had been looked at it. I needed money and felt like such a financial burden on my Nana. I had just borrowed money from her to pay my phone bill and an hour later disability called asking more questions that I’ve already answered in the past. She said she was the final person to review my application and that she’d be making a decision soon. If my application gets approved then I could be seeing a check within the next 4 weeks...
The following morning I checked my bank account and saw an ungodly amount of money, like two months worth of paychecks from my old job. I could actually pay my Nana back for all the money she’s given me while inpatient and afford to buy stuff to redo my apartment. And after seeing this money in my account I cried, not tears of joy but because I realized that even with this financial issue being lifted it still didn’t change how badly I wanted to end my life. Obviously money doesn’t buy happiness but like that money lifted a huge weight off my chest and it still didn’t matter. My passive SI, self harm urges and depression was shit when I discharged and it was just slowly getting worse.
So back to the timeline. So that "money thing" happened Tuesday morning. I brought bandaids to PHP and mind you I didn’t know what my arm looked like. I didn’t know if it was bad, I just slapped bandaids on it Saturday night and never looked at it again until that day when my doctor looked at it. It was so triggering seeing it. I'm going to get real descriptive here but I've never been able to cut over scars before. Maybe it's what I use but still I've basically run out of room on my go to arm. But drunk I was able to do it and deep. Two cuts, and obviously too much time had passed for me to get stitches but she still wanted me to go to Urgent Care after the program just to make sure it wasn’t infected. I felt like I was wasting their time. Going 3 days later just to get it re-bandaged… the nurse was so nice but the doctor seemed irritated. I think I spent almost 2 hours there, so pointless. They gave me a prescription for an ointment for my arm and they put in my chart that it “could have used stitches”. I never picked up the ointment.
Wednesday when I met with my psychiatrist she brought that up and said that if it happened again she wanted me to get seen right away.
11:19am Wed “I feel strange today. Maybe strange is the wrong word, disconnected? Empty, low, low energy. I can stare at the floor and get lost in my head.”
I started “seeing” my new therapist in the beginning of July but it was always virtual until that day. At 4 I had my first in person appointment and after the day being weird and shitty I was looking forward to it. But it was horrible.
So on the way home I went shopping. Dropped a couple hundred at Aerie and American Eagle and this was the start to my spending sprees. I FaceTimed with that friend I texted and it was a nice ending to the crappy day.
#personal#update#tw self harm#tw suicidality#tw ed#tw restricting#tw drinking#tw alchohol mention#IP to OP#bpd#self harm#depression#suicidal
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confessions of a junkorexic
march 19, 2023 | entry #6
i binged…a lot. whydoikeepdoingthistomyself? after my last entry i ended up spiraling into a three day long binge cycle and i feel like shit :( i felt like an absolute failure thursday because i had a few extra bowls of cereal but little did i know that it would spiral into me consuming over 6k calories in the span of three f*cking days!
i have no idea what came over me this weekend but i’ve never felt as disgusted with myself than i do now. i’ve struggled with binging for as long as i can remember but this time just felt…different. friday night i stuffed my face with so much food i had to lie down because i felt so insanely nauseous and full. it was so bad that i literally felt like i could have puked it all up by just poking my stomach. in a typical binge i always eat to excess but this time around was on an entirely different level. i felt so out of control it was like some food demon had possessed me and i couldn’t stop myself even if i wanted to :/
disappointed isn’t even the word. i feel disgusting. no amount of exercise or lax dosages could even begin to repair the damage i feel i’ve done to my body. it would be different if it had just been one day where i slipped up. at least that way i’d be able to convince myself that i had just had a “metabolism day” that would only result in mini pity party rather than an entire depressive episode of self loathing. what makes it x10 worse is that today was supposed to be my weigh-in day. today was supposed to be the day that i finally got back down to the 190s :( now who knows how far i’ve set myself back…
i don’t want to be too drastic with my next decisions because i don’t want this cycle to continue, but i really do wish i could just fast for an entire week after all of this. i’m convinced that’s the only way i could even begin to redeem myself from all of this. maybe i could consider doing a three day fast? it’s still a bit drastic for me (especially coming off of such an intense binge) but i honestly feel like it’s the only way i can keep my sanity.
i hate that this is my life. i hate that i ever let things get this bad. i hate that i could have reached my ugw ages ago if i wasn’t such a slob. i hate that i’ll probably have to suffer with this for the rest of my life. no matter how much i restrict, no matter how much i try to eat “normally”, no matter how many carbs i cut out from my diet, no matter how many cheat days i let myself have, no matter how many times i try to trick my brain into just being normal…this shit will always linger over my head just waiting to make my life as miserable and insufferable as possible.
i still have hope though—hope that at least one day i’ll have made enough progress that slip ups like these won’t be so detrimental. as depressing as it sounds, i always fantasize about the days where i’m finally at my ugw and can eat whatever my heart desires—not consistently obviously (i’ll be damned if i ever let myself regain 100+ lbs ever again) but enough that i’ll still be able to feel a little normal. when i go out to eat i won’t have to spend hours before combing through the menu for foods that fit into my cal limit. i’ll be able to eat my favorite junk foods without feeling like fat cow immediately after. maybe i’ll even be able work towards actually having a semi-healthy relationship with food? wishful thinking.
idk…i’m just tired of this being my reality. i can’t wait to look back at all of this a year from now and laugh…all i have to do is put in the work…
#its not as simple as just eating#ed bllog#tw ed diet#tw edd#disordered eating thoughts#ed but not sheeran#i wanna be small#tw ana diary#tw disordered eating#ana trigger#confessions of a junkorexic
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Sometimes I wish there were concludent psychology info on the Internet, not good information buried under a ton of shit. It would be so useful for everyone in the world, actually. And by everyone I mean women, weird men fuck off.
Like how can I cope with a depressive episode while having no therapy available?? Suppose I'll have to work it out by myself.
i know this sounds dumb but it has worked for me:
1. have a good sleep routine. your sleep can seriously impact your emotions and it can make or break your day. having a sleep routine is good as your body has a sleep cycle & it’ll help you sleep faster + better if you are consistent. avoid anything too stimulating when trying to sleep (like exciting tv shows) and do not have caffeine preferably after 1 pm (even if u don’t feel it much, it can impact sleep quality)
2. if something is too depressing and making you feel worse, minimise your consumption of it or time around it at this time. it’s better for you to try to find more uplifting & inspiring things.
3. things like meditation can actually help. ik it sounds like bullshit but there is actual evidence that meditative exercises, mindfulness, even yoga can all improve your mental state. it can help with anxiety as well as depression. you wont magically be healed and it often takes practice, but you might feel better.
4. this one sounds stupid to someone who hasn’t dealt with depression, but take better care of yourself. a lot of us will just lay in bed all day and do nothing and it’ll feed into the depressive episode. get out of bed, brush your teeth, wash your face, take a shower, maybe even clean a little bit around you. reward yourself when you take those little steps as well.
5. if you have loved ones that you can trust, utilise their presence in this time. being alone with your thoughts can really exacerbate depressive episodes. its good to have someone who can cheer you up and perhaps take your mind off of it or remind you of the joys in life. a good support system is crucial, especially for the times when you’re in crisis mode
6. overall just try to make your environment a better place. sometimes (not always) it’s our surroundings &/or habits making us depressed. even if it isn’t the root, having a better environment will at least make you feel somewhat better.
7. sports can actually help. it releases endorphins.
8. healthier eating habits also helps. too much junk food can harm & not eating enough can also affect your moods negatively
9. lastly, look into cognitive restructuring. for a lot of ppl dealing with chronic depression, there is an underlying negative mindset which keeps them trapped in a depressive cycle. its really difficult, but possible, to restructure your thinking on your own. this involves some extra work beyond the self-care stuff i mentioned because you often have to write your feelings down, analyse them, and think of a more positive way you could perceive the situation in the future. and you need to do this repeatedly until it becomes automatic & you gain this positive voice more automatically. just as a warning, when i first went thru this it felt somewhat annoying & invasive having this unfamiliar positive voice pop up but ultimately you do feel better.
idk if any of these are of any help but these are things that helped me at one point or another. they really make a difference.
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“The Dorito Theory” Understanding How TikTok’s Algorithm keeps its User Base Addicted
Gutelle, S. (2024, February 16). Is the TikTok algorithm like a bag of chips? the “Dorito theory” is going viral. Tubefilter. https://www.tubefilter.com/2024/02/16/tiktok-dorito-theory-algorithm-addiction-celeste-aria/
As a twenty-four year old living in the digital age, I, like many of my peers, have a bad social media habit. I always talk about wanting to quit. Just like everyone else I know, I say things like “I spend too much time on my phone, I need a detox” or, “I hate it when I go on TikTok for a few minutes, only to realize an hour has passed.” TikTok specifically as a social media platform is infamous for the loop that keeps its users hooked and swiping for more. So what is it that makes TikTok’s feedback algorithm so much more addicting than the competitors?
“What’s so Special About TikTok’s Algorithm?” by Reuters Videos (2024) breaks down how TikTok’s algorithm works. According to the article, part of what makes TikTok’s algorithm so precise is how much content a user goes through in a span of time. Whereas the average Youtube video sits at ten minutes long, TikToks span anywhere from ten seconds to a couple minutes each. This means that every time a person swipes on a video, the algorithm is learning what kind of things a user likes and dislikes, and is learning that information faster than on any other social media platform.
Sam Gutelle at Tubefiller writes in the article, “Is the TikTok algorithm like a bag of chips? The ‘Dorito theory’ is going viral” about how some influencers on the platform are comparing the TikTok scroll to eating a bag of Doritos, or any other junk food. In the same way the chemical taste of processed food that isn’t filling can keep us eating mindlessly until the bag is empty, TikTok creates a similar reward loop for users. Once they get the first ‘taste’, they keep scrolling hoping to eventually feel full, though the feeling often never comes.
Garrett Syverson’s Medium article, “Shocking Impact: TikTok Videos and Kids’ Attention Spans & Dopamine” (2024) also discusses this phenomenon. “TikTok’s user engagement strategies have also been linked to the release of dopamine, a neurotransmitter that is associated with pleasure and reward. When users receive likes, comments, and followers, their brains release dopamine, which can create a sense of euphoria and addiction,” (Syverson, 2024). It’s no wonder, then, that people across generations all report feeling like they can’t break away from their phones.
I know for myself that, even if I am on TikTok and not enjoying any of the content I’m watching, I’ll find myself still pulled into the scroll. Oftentimes, when I feel “too tired” to use my brain on anything else, TikTok feels like something I can give my attention to without needing to put any effort into concentrating. It’s a detrimental loop: the more I give into the algorithm’s cycle of producing short form content, the less I want to devote my attention to the things I actually consider important, or hobbies I enjoy.
While understanding how the algorithm works is not the only thing necessary to break out of the “time wasting” cycles, it is an important part of explaining how millions of users across the globe have become so dependent on the app, in ways that people have not become to other social media in past or present.
References:
Gutelle, S. (2024, February 16). Is the TikTok algorithm like a bag of chips? the “Dorito theory” is going viral. Tubefilter. https://www.tubefilter.com/2024/02/16/tiktok-dorito-theory-algorithm-addiction-celeste-aria/
Rueters Videos. (2024, April 26). What’s so special about TikTok’s algorithm? Yahoo! Finance. https://finance.yahoo.com/video/whats-special-tiktoks-algorithm-162847932.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAKoTdkijSAUWcgcCrB9k6bW1dQ6FfcdhlZ80PN1PN4teAkE_faSyt6i9CfOoXxY-bHDC6HCsfnKlBsknEAmYwrr42CjllR-Eng6skrLCD1fm8LsAVvBqxYQD7BBIGxvsk6-yTjX9QWaplzYrf9nRtvgalDfAYE65loyy9n9eGLB6 Gutelle, S. (2024, February 16). Is the TikTok algorithm like a bag of chips? the “Dorito theory” is going viral. Tubefilter. https://www.tubefilter.com/2024/02/16/tiktok-dorito-theory-algorithm-addiction-celeste-aria/
Syverson, G. (2024, February 13). Shocking impact: Tiktok videos and kids’ attention spans & dopamine. Medium. https://medium.com/@syversonsolution/shocking-impact-tiktok-videos-and-kids-attention-spans-dopamine-9d0104d135ad#:~:text=TikTok’s%20user%20engagement%20strategies%20have,sense%20of%20euphoria%20and%20addiction.
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One Person Project
Hello person who somehow came across this post.
I’ll add at the outset that I’m not a writer, so there won’t be generous posts that can give anyone anything to think about. English is not my first language either, so I apologize for any mistakes.
I created this blog because I want to change my life. Tumblr is a website, I think, created for this type of shit. I don’t expect anyone to read it, because it will be my virtual diary, but if anyone comes across this page full of trial and error and is willing to help me in any way – with advice of course – I’ll be more than happy with that.
But maybe I'll introduce myself first.
Hi, I'm Anna. I'm in my mid-20s and two days ago I decided to change my life. But seriously. I don't stand out in anything special, in fact, I'm such a boring person that no one really notices me. And that's my problem, too.
My life is boring (shocking, isn’t it?). Every day I go to work, and then I come back and go to bed. The days off are not much different, because I actually spend the whole day at home doing nothing.
I have no hobbies. I've never found anything that would interest me enough to take care of it. I've made a few attempts to get interested in something, but they've always failed.
I don't have any friends. Because of my shyness, which kept me through high school, even though I tried to overcome it, I didn't make any close connections. Although I am now more open to people and can talk to them normally, I am no longer able to make any real friendships. I won't even mention another relationship.
I don't like myself. I don't like the way I look, I don't like the person I've become over the years. I don't like my laziness, my spitefulness, my quick irritation and nervousness, and the fact that I wasted my teenage years on nothing while other people at my school were making memories.
I graduated from a master's degree in a field that may have interested me a little, but it's not promising at all. I consider myself a stupid person, and I don't think any degree would change my mind. Maybe I'm retarded for my age, I don't know.
I consider myself a failure. I keep everything to myself, because I am ashamed to tell my family about my inner thoughts. I think they'd laugh at me or wave at me and say there's bigger problems in life. And I know it is, because OF COURSE there are bigger problems in the world, which you can see even on television or on the Internet. But for me, this is an important matter, after all, my life is at stake, right?
I have no desire to live. I can lie down for a couple of hours watching movies or sleeping and that way I lose a good few days a week. I don't know how to encourage myself to do anything.
My state of health is a joke. I eat junk food that should have eaten my guts a long time ago. How I'm still holding on, I don't know.
And lately I've been thinking about my life. Why isn't everything going the way I want it to? Why doesn't anything change? Why doesn't my life look like the lives of the people from my school?
I know, it doesn't look like that 'cause I'm not doing anything.
It's getting more and more frustrating. Because do I really want to spend my whole life like this? Going to work and coming home and doing literally nothing? If one day I have a family, and my children or grandchildren ask me about my younger self, what am I going to tell them? That I was so lazy and reluctant to live and that I didn't do anything about it?
But what I'm talking about, how I can start a family? With this lifestyle, I'll never meet anyone.
It makes my heart very heavy. And although I made a few attempts to make some small changes – writing diaries, meditating, doing some manifestations (not suitable for this I guess) – I quickly lost the desire to continue. My "every day" diary changed to " every month" and later "every couple of months".
And I think the frustration with this state of life is reaching its limit. I really need to make some changes, or I'm gonna get stuck in this nothingness mode, and I'm gonna end up having a grudge against myself for not doing anything about it. So I thought that maybe such a virtual diary would be better than a paper one (I think I even prefer to write on a keyboard). And maybe somehow there'll be someone who'll have some advice for me on how I could change things a little bit. So I will put here from time to time, maybe more often, maybe less often my progress – the bigger ones and the smaller ones.
Officially I am starting my “One Person Project”, where I will finally pull myself together and fight for myself.
If someone somehow came across this post and even read it to the end - I want to thank you. And I hope I haven’t ruined your day because of my funny “new year, new me” type of post type. Or night. Wherever you are.
(And please no malicious comments, I know I'm pathetic. I accepted it a long time ago, let's move on).
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I’m going to B/p again tonight as I’ve already basically binged this morning. I need to give myself a break so I’m only going to B/p foods that won’t hurt my throat because it’s sore. I have a food scale now so I’m going to start actually cooking real food that I like that aren’t just junk food and hopefully that’ll help the B/p stop.
I shouldn’t be purging at all since my blood pressure was so low yesterday but apparently almost needing the hospital isn’t enough for my ed to be quiet. I’m making a goal after today that I’ll try to be B/p free for 5 days and work at small goals like that until I can get it under control.
I’m maintaining 100lbs which isn’t bad but I want to start losing weight again and I can’t do that when I’m binging and purging every day plus I’m absolutely exhausted and purging is extremely uncomfortable now I need a break. I never eat anything after I B/p so if my electrolytes get messed up I never replace them which I think was the cause for my low blood pressure so I’m going to B/p early tonight and try to eat some vegetable soup a few hours after because it has high potassium and sodium and maybe it’ll help my blood pressure stay normal because honestly that was terrifying.
Anyway hopefully after today I can set small goals and give myself a break between B/p episodes to recover until it can stop. I’m so tired of this.
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I saw this thing about dopamine fasting? But like. Replacing vices with healthier options in the moment to live more mindfully. Like, if I feel like eating junk when I’m not hungry, maybe I would be better off having a quick little dance party for a hit of dopamine. Work for it a little. Obviously if I am hungry I should eat, and I should enjoy my food. But scrolling on social media or constantly needing some kind of stimulation isn’t good. I need to let myself get bored. Boredom is good. It makes other things seem more fun. Maybe on Saturday before class I’ll do my morning walk without earbuds and bring a cup of tea and just sit and stare out at the pond or whatever water that is that I walk past. I want to slow down. I want to live more intentionally. I want to get bored so I can feel creative again. And inspired. And do things that actually fulfill me.
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Journal 30 (2/2) - Reflection
This challenge has to go up on my list of Hardest Things I Ever Done. It’s a challenge full of discomfort and frustration and limitation. It’s a challenge that went against my previous lifestyle and pushed me far out of my comfort zone. The challenge itself isn’t hard nor were the habits. Not one bit.
The challenge was maintaining and learning focus, motivation, habitual, and memory skills that I didn’t have prior to the challenge. The challenge was making yourself do the required tasks even though you’re tired, in pain, and just want to sit down and play a game while eating some chips because you’re so mentally drained.
Honestly, thanks to my mental illnesses, doing this challenge is far harder than it would be for someone who isn’t burdened by dissociative episodes that completely disrupt the day-to-day in an uncontrollable way or the chronic pain that gets so bad sometimes I literally faint and pass out and can’t manage to move for hours.
These are real deal issues and not "just excuses", but sadly I eventually turned them into excuses. I lacked the discipline to get back into motion as soon as possible after I recovered. The episodes quickly became week-long “off days” in which I just didn’t do anything useful.
The biggest things I learned are:
How to knock off using my illnesses as an excuse when I have flare-ups
How to manage recovering after flare-ups and getting back into reality
How to directly combat and manage symptoms of my illness when they come up to lessen the impact and consistency of flare-ups
How to build and maintain good habits
How to be consistent with habits
Memory hacks to improve memory
These habits are actually way nicer than my old lifestyle. I actually enjoy the benefits of them.
I do have discipline
The most interesting thing I noticed from this challenge is just how much I used social media, general media, and junk food as a coping mechanism. While there’s no issue in watching a movie with friends or indulging in sugary goodness when you had a shit day, the frequency at which I did it was remarkably concerning lol.
I found that when I get bored and am tired, I tend to entertain myself with the thing that has the least resistance, which happens to be YouTube. When I get bored, hungry, and tired, I turn to easy to grab junk food. If there’s anything I know about myself, it’s that boredom is an extremely distressing state of being. Somehow, it’s worse than being overwhelmed but that’s just me. What I learned to do instead is learn to be okay with less stimulus and pick up one of my projects or do something productive to combat boredom.
I don’t really even miss social media. I realized just how BORING and useless it is. I do miss music though lol. Sometimes I just really want to listen to something because too much and too little silence is distressing, but that’s just a weird neurology thing.
The exercise habit was extremely exhausting, a combination of working long hours with little rest on off days, easy muscle fatigue, poor nutrition and fitness, and chronic pain. However, I enjoyed the results both mentally and physically. (I apparently gained some muscle and lost fat without even trying to thanks to the diet and exercise)
Changing my diet and exercising helped lessen the severity of my chronic pain, increased my fitness, and surprisingly took the severity of my migraines. Yeah, today I had a bad one, did some exercise, and the sucker was gone. Interesting.
While there are limits and a lack of freedom for the rules with some habits that I will have to adjust, I actually do like the system. Moving forward, I will be continuing the DRVN30 habits (though the rules will be modified to better fit my personal needs). I also liked the idea of the “discomfort challenges” so I will set new ones to accomplish every month.
I will be turning down the blog post frequency to twice a week because honestly, once a day is excessive and super difficult and causes my posts to lack true quality (in my own opinion). It’s just unsustainable. I will also be keeping my daily tracker journals to myself and giving end-of-month overviews of habits and achievements and whatnot.
Also, I will eventually move this blog over to its own website. When I get everything running, I’ll drop a link and see you there!
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It’s cliché but I want to be loved
LIFE I hate feeling alone because it reminds me of the truth. I’ve always been avoiding feeling alone. Accept feeling alone. It’s okay, because you’ve been alone and you’re okay.
I think if I can accept being alone, I’ll be more okay eating well. I think eating junk food specifically makes me feel less alone.
Like really, if I was okay with feeling alone, would I feel better about not eating? Would I feel better about taking chances? Have I been fighting to avoid accepting that I’m alone this whole time? And the only times I didn’t feel like I had to accept that, was when I was with Atom.
DISCONNECT Is what I feel a fear of disconnection? That I’ll say or do something wrong and ruin the connection?
I can feel Atom disconnecting. Going further into my past. I hate it.
So thinking about this more, I think it’s definitely close to love addiction and fear of abandonment/rejection, but it’s not QUITE that. I think I’m obsessed/addicted to connection.
Probably because I view connection as a sign of my worth. For several reasons. I think the quality and success of a connection is how I value myself in the moment. Broken connection = I wasn’t worth keeping. Failed connection = I wasn’t worth connecting with. Weak connection = I’m only worth so much. But even a great connection, like what I had with Atom, is fucked. Because I never saw it as “I’m fucking awesome and Atom isn’t a stupid asshole so he actually sees it.” I saw it as “Atom is so amazing he can see this lump of clay (myself) and see the work of art it could POTENTIALLY be.” Like he loved me for my potential value, not my actual value. And I think that being the BEST read of myself has led to some really dumb thinking in my life.
So from my perspective, I’m a lump of clay that’s barely worth true connection from his own family or friends, beyond the one guy intuitive enough to see my potential value, but he died because he didn’t value himself so what the fuck does he know?
Because when we’re young, connection quality is a huge indicator of who we are and how we form our sense of self esteem. Since I generally had poor connections (or at least not as deep as I wanted), I viewed my one strong connection as an anomaly and figured my value/self worth was generally low all around. I never got past that and never developed my own sense of self worth. Because doing so would challenge my entire network and support system. Doing so meant realizing that Atom and I were both too big and bright for the world we were born into.
So not only was my best evaluation of myself poor and based on someone else’s behavior, but I never stopped evaluating myself based on connection status/quality. I still do it to this day. Even tiny interactions are all about connection.
And food and movies are the only things that SILENCE my hunger for connection. They allow me to turn it off. I think that’s why I get so mad if I’m interrupted. Also why I get anxious about cooking meals Susie wants or whatever, because now I’m combining food and connection quality and it’s not supposed to work like that.
So I guess I need to start looking at it like this: I want connection because I haven’t been given the proper love and support throughout my life. I’m lonely, but I’m fucking awesome.
It was legitimately hard to write that last part lol. It was hard to write “I’m fucking awesome.” I felt like I had to explain it. Make it make sense. Justify it with evidence. Fascinating.
I guess remember this: You can be both lonely and fucking awesome. Awesome people can feel alone, especially if they’re surrounded by less awesome people.
FOOD I guess maybe it’s time to just be open minded and eat whatever. I’ve been kinda trying to do that anyway lately. I guess do it more, and take more time to cook food and shit. Maybe we can try Blue Apron or something or I can look up random recipes somewhere and try a new meal or two every week.
I guess part of the problem is that I still always want food to be my silencer for my need to connect. And if I’m eating food I don’t enjoy as much, it doesn’t silence that hunger as much, especially if I’m worried that it’ll cause problems with the person who made the food. So maybe that’s kinda why I’m freaking out. I see it as Susie trying to take away my coping mechanism, which is probably why her limits with watching movies bothers me so much too.
So I guess accept that food can’t always be your coping mechanism. It’s food. It’s sustenance. It’s supposed to be fuel, not a painkiller or security blanket.
SELF Just remember that it’s possible to be awesome AND feel like shit. It’s a possible for an awesome person to make his partner angry. It’s possible for awesome people to make mistakes. An awesome person can still have a family that doesn’t fully value or understand them. Should I just assume I’m unappreciated in my time? Assume I’m better than it seems and just accept that things may be worse than I deserve?
I want this shit to stop because it makes me scared I deserve it. If it stops, I don’t have to wonder.
I don’t want to be normal I want to be awesome. That’s why every defeat is awful. But I can still be awesome, I can still feel like a star. I believe it can happen. I believe I can love me.
It’s like I can only see myself as awful or awesome. I’ve only ever been those. The extremes. The two kickball games, one where I was a star goalie and one where I was a complete failure. Anything less than perfection is complete failure.
SELF Confident people don’t obsess over comments that COULD mean something bad.
I’m fucking lazy. I’ve never wanted to accept that about myself, but it’s true. I think it comes from a lack of patience though. I want results and I don’t wanna wait.
So then why am I impatient? Because the longer something takes, the more chances I have to fuck it up.
So I always just want to jump to the reward because I hate the in between period. The anxiety. Will I or won’t I? I hate the tension so I get impatient and want to jump to the reward.
That’s the deal with food too. I’ll want so much out of my day, or my life, and I’ll be tired of waiting for the reward so I’ll be like “SOME sort of reward will help tide me over until I get a real one” and that’s why food helps. It helps silent the shame of still not being who I want to be yet, and how that’s obviously my fault.
But I should see it as a good quality that I can dream and want so much. And my placement isn’t entirely my fault at least. No one gets what they deserve. Not consistently. Our lives are not the result of what we deserve. Some of it is what we’ve earned or deserve, but some of it is just what we’ve been given. What we’ve had to work with.
Maybe I should see myself as someone who’s bigger and brighter than the world he was born into. And sometimes that won’t fit the mold I was made from. There will be problems. Wanting more can be painful.
So instead of seeing the tension in a moment as “I better make it or I’m never forgiving myself for the additional amount of shame I’m going to inherit,” see it as “wouldn’t it cool if I pulled this off?”
I need to rewire my reward center. Make it less about the reward and more about the process. The process is the reward. Being able to cook. Being able to relax.
PRESENT So is the secret to be present? Laying in bed, feeling safe and comfortable with my awesome dog is cool. Do I need more than that? Is it okay to just feel the present moment? Don’t think about it. Feel it. Just “be” more often.
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bennettjrbrody:
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“Oh, whatever. That’s not sappy,” Ben scoffed. He was pretty sure he could try harder and do worse.
Actually, no he wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to argue that he could and start a whole thing, either.
Besides, she redirected his attention. “It’s both, but that just probably makes it more genius. It’s also really impossible to fuck up, and it isn’t something I feed my kid and then feel bad about myself for.” He sighed and glanced over at his sister. “And I didn’t really know it before we moved here, but apparently Lale has a farming streak buried in her, so we’re probably going to be able to make this stuff with produce from our own yard at some point.”
He just needed to figure out how to plant and grow it all, especially where the heavier things like wheelbarrowing top soil would be concerned, at least for now. He didn’t love it like his wife did, but… well, he was trying. He supposed that meant he could probably, like, make a dessert with his sister at some point, too. His voice definitely contained some of the hesitation he felt as he lowered it to lay the groundwork for offering to hang with her some more. “What kind of projects do you have in the works to horrify mom with while you’re here?”
Maybe they could arrange a homeschool lesson about cake decorating for Berkan, too. The potential groan (not about time with his aunt but about the task) made Ben smile.
“Yeah, I bet.” It was purely sympathetic, though. Lale’s family had been long moved out by the time they’d moved in, but it had still been strange. He could only imagine it was moreso with parents still in residence in some way. “Thank God I’m safe for now, though.” He grinned over at her. “Thank God we both are.” He didn’t even believe in God, necessarily, and he could still find a way to be thankful.
He shook off the asparagus, gentle taps on the side of the sink to avoid flinging water everywhere, but he set it on the cutting board and twisted to the side so he could give Tana’s reaction his full attention.
“Lale’s pregnant,” he said, no preamble. “The baby is the size of a peach, hence the peach pie.”
.
"Definitely beats boxed mac 'n cheese and Ramen." Nothing against those required staples of college life or child raising, but Tana tried to be a little more conscious of what she put in her body these days too. Sure, there was a night in here and there with Netflix and junk food, but it was an occasional indulgence over a consistent habit.
"Is it weird that I kind of love that for her?" She gave a light laugh, picturing her sister-in-law in gardening gloves and a straw hat. It was a little harder to imagine for Ben. She could see the appeal of fresh produce, but Tana probably would have just hit the farmer's market over starting a garden of her own. Her creative energy was typically channeled into music and makeup, with the occasional painting of sets at the theater if they were short-handed.
"I was thinking about starting a cosplay of one of the nurses from Silent Hill for my channel. I haven't decided if I want to make the mask myself or do it with prosthetics and makeup, but if I start now, I might have it down by Halloween. Their faces are pretty grotesque, so... mom will love it." Her YouTube channel had started with makeup trials and eyeshadow blends and gradually extended into costuming and Fx as she got further into her degree and theater work. To say that her parents didn't think doing makeup tutorials was an adequate career for the daughter they'd hoped would be a doctor was putting it mildly, but it pulled in more money than her actual job at times.
"Where would you and Bear stand on helping me repaint my room? The purple and teal is very... sixteen year old girl." Tana didn't hate her taste back then, but it had changed quite a bit. She'd prefer something a little more neutral and easier to switch up the color palette at her whim.
She paused in her dicing and put the knife down when Ben turned toward her, sensing that whatever his news was, it wasn't something she wanted to be holding sharp objects for. She was right. Her face lit up, and she bounced on her toes before flinging herself at him in a hug. "Ben! That's amazing! Congratulations! Oh my god a peach, that's so cute. Boy or girl? Too early to tell?" She was both screeching and gushing, and she wasn't even sorry about it. She'd always been thrilled about Berkan, even when it was a bit of a scandal for them to have him so young. Knowing they were actually settled and reasonably prepared now just made it that much sweeter.
bennettjrbrody:
Ben’s comfort level ramped up when he heard Tana’s footsteps approaching. Even now, when they were both adults and it had been almost half his life they hadn’t lived under the same roof for any real length of time, he could tell it was her. He was still as surprised as anyone it had worked out for Tana to come help their mom; still as unsurprised as ever their dad wasn’t available for the task.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Ben knew he wasn’t a perfect husband by any means, but seeing his dad’s actions through filter of a husband or father, rather than a son, cast a sheen of sharp disappointment over all of it. He’d always known he wasn’t one of his father’s priorities, but he never would’ve guessed until now that extended to their mother, too. Then again, he’d never really gotten to know their mother, either, so maybe it was weird for him to have any kind of feelings or think he had any kind of perspective. He only knew if it was Tana or Lale, he would be there instead of asking Berkan to step up.
Either way, in the presence of his younger sister, everything within Ben relaxed. It was an automatic process for him, and he also turned his head to kiss to top of hers in greeting.
“Hi. I mean it was fine but now it’s so good,” he said and, yeah, he sort of hated how schmaltzy it sounded. But he stayed in motion anyway, unloading vegetables. “Well, we’re really just washing and chopping up some stuff to roast it. Ever heard of a sheet pan dinner? It’s basically my skill level. Nothing complicated because, let’s face it, Lale is the pie-baker in the family, not me.” He dipped his head toward the pie on the counter, then glanced over at her. “And after you answer my question, I have news. But first, how’s your day? Here alone or… is mom somewhere lurking around a corner?”
.
Ben was hard on himself for a lot of things, some deserved and some not. Tana wouldn't hesitate to call him on his worst shit, but there was never a question about whether she supported him too. Perhaps it wasn't a fair comparison because she'd always loved him the most, but Ben was a much better dad than their father. She'd had front row seats to it for most of Berkan's life, and he always tried to be present in a way she'd never seen with their dad for either of them. It made a difference. It made all the difference. (He was also an excellent brother, but she didn't have any others to compare that to.)
"You sap." She said it fondly though, and it pulled a smile out of her, which he must have known it would. Her day had definitely just improved too. "I can't decide if that's lazy or genius." She grabbed a handful of small potatoes to wash and start chopping. Tana was adequate in the kitchen, and occasionally she got inspired to try something ambitious, but she wouldn't call it one of her favorite activities. Nobody wanted to decorate desserts with her because she'd take hours getting the details just so.
"Ooh, pie." She'd have to send Lale a thank you text later. "It wasn't bad. Mostly unpacking. It's weird to be here," she admitted, but not like she was terribly bothered by it. She might be at some point, but right now it was too new. The corner of her mouth pulled up in a small, not particularly happy smile at the question. She probably would have had the presence of mind to warn him first if their mom was going to be here. Not because it would for certain keep him away, but just so he'd know and could decide accordingly from there. "She's out. No secret ambush. What's your news?"
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packed a lunch. for tomorrow. bc i will need to eat w my university friends. fml
#i do eat quite s lot of calories i just don’t eat meals#i fried some tofu and made a salad .#yehaw now i have to eat that :)))))#all i want to eat atm is junk and safe foods nothing too cooked like actual meals#just snacks.#it’s dumb but my ed is in that kind of stage where calories are whatever bc i binge anyway so i cant lose#but i still cant make myself eat normal meals or cook#i dont want to eat anything i can cook#corn isn’t even appealing.#and i was OBSESSED with corn for the past few weeks it was all i ate#idk. i feel like shit
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memories: s.g
summary: steven was once your future. now, he’s your past, a memory- as much as you don’t want him to be. steven grant x reader inspired by the song ‘memories’ by conan gray... so you know this is angsty. i can never find it in myself to end on angst, so there is fluff :)
warnings: angst, angst, angst, sad steven, sad reader, this actually made me cry whilst writing, cussing
word count: 2785
It was raining. You could hear the distinct patter against the ledge of the window, could see the droplets of water barrelling down the surface, as if indulging in an intense race. It was funny, really. How the rain could bring so much comfort despite the connotations of sadness.
It was buried in all of literature and film, the dramatic rain scenes, lovers running into arms and kissing deeply, against all the odds, all the sorrow, as the rain batters down, unfelt to the intensity of the couple’s love. It was plastered in depressive monologues, the rain reflecting, personifying the words spoken, as if they are one.
But this rain… this was just rain. A show of nature. The start of a new life for plants and flowers and rainbows. It was just rain, and you were existing with it. It felt human; you needed that. Especially now. After a month of grieving someone who was still alive.
You were trapped in the memories of the past.
It was worse than any horror movie you’d ever seen. Everyone talks about ghosts, some horrifying ghouls who maliciously haunt innocent families, most often ending badly. OR the family ghosts, the ones which guide, guardian angels more so than evil spirits. But these ghosts, good or bad, are dead. Scary, yes, but there are more terrifying things.
Life. Living. Something that had become increasingly hard to do lately. Not that you didn’t love life. You enjoyed the little things; people walking their dogs, neighbours joking over fences, ice-cream on a hot day, the beat of rain against windows. Life could be beautiful. But the premise of what makes life beautiful was love. And you had lost that.
Steven Grant was alive and well. He was living in his flat with his fish and his books and his umbrellas. He was going to work at the museum every day where he just (finally) been promoted to a tour guide. He was getting his vegan wraps from the new boho pop-up food cart. He was happy. Content in living and his daily routines.
You had been cooped up in your flat for a month with your duvet and TV and movies. You were working the bare minimum to afford what you needed- a demotion if you will. You were devouring junk food some days and nothing at all the next. You weren’t happy. Content only when watching the worst horror films or indulging in fictional rain-drop races.
“So, what’s on tonight, then?”
“Well, I thought we could watch…” you flicked through the films until you landed on:
“The… Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Sounds rather gory.”
“Actually, it isn’t. The director wanted it to meet a wider audience, so they limited the gore, it’s more your imagination that fills in the gaps. Oh, and the fact it’s a true story. Actually, not really. That was a marketing technique. Still, scary all the same.” Steven looked down at where you were shuffling under his arm, chuckling as a said,
“Nerd.” You gasped in mock offence, hitting his shoulder lightly.
“Says you, Mr I-know-everything-about-anything Grant.” Steven shrugged.
“Both a blessing and a curse, eh?” You pout, Steven pecking your lips, “ ‘m sorry, lovie. Common, let’s watch the ‘Chainsaw somethin’ or other killing thing’.” You grin, pressing a big kiss against his cheek, and pressing play, already excitedly explaining another thing about the movie. Steven beamed; he could listen to you talk all day- and happily would.
You quickly clicked away from the title on the screen, heart skipping a beat as you were subtly reminded of your isolation. It was a hit in the chest, a way the universe was haunting you with what once was one of your favourite memories. You settled on Halloween instead.
A slight ‘buzz’ rang through your flat, breaking your attention away from Jamie Lee Curtis who had just appeared on the screen. You froze, pausing the movie and standing up. You felt your heart in your throat.
The rain, the doorbell, the movies… you felt suddenly prepared for a loving monologue from your past love, reminiscing on the good times and spouting cliches of ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’. It was certainly that time in the cheesy romcom, the ‘Love Actually’ or the ‘Letters to Juliet.’ You inhale, allowing the buzz to ring once more before you accept it.
The footsteps creep closer to your door, a gentle rush to them, and in your head, the words ‘here it is. Your moment.’ On the first knock, your practically swinging the door open, the wind helping your dramatic gesture to reveal-
“Good evening, I’ve got your order here, number 27?” Oh. You mutter your thanks, searching in your pocket for the tip you had pre-planned when you ordered the food an hour ago, and hastily took the delivery.
Life was not a movie. There were no big romantic gestures, no oversized notecards proclaiming love, no boom boxes blasting the words to your favourite song. There was no more him. You should’ve learnt your lesson when he left. But somehow, the cliches you had consumed left you with a sickening false sense of hope.
“So fucking messy. I can’t find anything in here.”
“I’m sorry, didn’t realise the clean police was gonna be over here. Otherwise I’d have made it nicer for you, your majesty.” You rolled your eyes at Steven’s sarcasm, digging around in yet another pile of books on his desk to find your resume.
“Piss off, Steven, this is important.” You watched as he all but stomped over to the desk, scanning the contents with his eyes before picking up the first bit of paper he saw- your resume.
“There. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” His voice was laced with a sarcasm only he could have, cockiness in his demeanour. You snatched it off him, already agitated from stress and nerves. “A thank you would’ve been nice, manners an’ all that.” You groaned.
“I don’t need this today, okay?”
“What?? My help?”
“Your acting like an arsehole and you know it.” Steven scoffed, shaking his head at you.
“Oh yeah I’m the arsehole. Yeah, not you with your-your wants,” he begins to dramatically clean the desk, shoving books on top of each other, “and your needs,” he motions to your resume which your practically clutching in your hand, “and your bad manners.”
“Fuck you, Steven.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“There you go again. Looks like I’m right again, darling, don’t it?” You couldn’t bear his face any longer, which was a rare occurrence for you, and stormed out, door slamming behind you. It was a stupid fight, really stupid. But it built tensions, even after you had made up. A part of that was because you didn’t get the job. Subconsciously, you blamed the argument with him for that.
Your fingers traced down the spine of one of Steven’s books he had gifted to you on your birthday. He had found it in an old shop, annotated the pages based on what reminded him most of you, and left an inscription of the front page; ‘To my love on your birthday, may this remind you of us forever.’ It was hard to read it without tears forming in your eyes, without emotions clogging your throat and your heart-wrenching.
But you held it. Felt the hardback cover, rusting with antiquity. Flicked through the pages, flowing with reminiscence of times of love. Steven’s words were right. And now they were eternal. An eternal reminder of ‘us’, forever.
“We need to talk.” It was baffling how 4 words could have so much significance before anything was even uttered. But those words, those 4 words, changed everything. Yet, you agreed, sitting across from Steven where once you would’ve sat next to him, on him even. He had a grim look on his features, settling deep within his tired eyes, in the valleys of the crevices in his forehead.
“Okay.” It had felt different for a while. Things weren’t how they used to be. Things change, people change. Some things live but all things die. Yadayadayada.
After a while, you toned it out, the words flying over you and bouncing off the walls, meeting harshly in the middle to engage in battle. He was trying, really trying, to keep it together, to compose himself, because he knew it had to be done. He still loved you, of course he did, he always would.
But it wasn’t fair to keep watering a dead flower, willing it to be beautiful again.
“Say something? Please, lov- Y/N, say anything.” Oh. You hadn’t realised he’d stopped, hasn’t noticed his big eyes boring into yours, desperate and sad.
What was there to be said? Don’t leave? I still love you? I’ll never stop waiting for you? The monologues swirled in your mind as if scripted, a million combinations that had been said a million times before. But, with a heaviness in your heart you had never felt before, you settled on the 2 words which held great, heart-breaking significance; “Goodbye, Steven.”
And it was.
Steven Grant was leaving from your life. His presence, that once was engraved in your sofa, in your heart, was slowly loosening it’s grasp on your possessions. His smell from that cologne he had, the one he insisted on buying, was slowly dissipating from your sheets. His favourite mug in your home had sat untouched at the deepest corner of the cupboard.
What was left was quaint reminders of him, like ghosts, both the guardians and the ghouls. Or morsels of the past, microscopic evidence of the memories lived. When he had taken some of these reminders, that was worse than the initial break-up. It was like taking a part of your brain.
“I tried to, urh, get it all. Should be in there, if there’s anything else, feel free to, yeah, let me know.” Steven had passed you the box full of your possessions and you were staring into it. One of your tops, a snow globe, an earring, a mug. You swallowed harshly, nodding, putting it down on your bed before turning to get his box.
“Here, I tried to do the same.” You placed it into his open hands, the lump in your throat gradually growing, no matter how you tried to swallow it down. Steven glanced into the contents, mostly full of his books and his clothes and his colognes, before quickly looking back up at you.
“Your…” He tried to balance it on one hand, quickly realising that would fail, and putting it on the side. From here, he could easily pull out a book placed delicately on the top. “Your giving this back?” his voice was small as he held the book up, and you knew which one it was instantly. The one with the inscription, the one with the notes, the one with the love and passion and purity that would become corrupted with grief and pain and-
“It feels wrong to keep it. It says, says forever, you know?” He opened it, feeling the words with the pads of his fingers, tracing them as if trying to revive them out of the page. He was lost for a moment, before he shook his head.
“I can’t take it back. Just can’t.” He muttered, pacing forward and placing it in your hands.
“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is, Steven. Just, take the book.” You tried to remain calm, but your voice was breaking, mimicking your heart in your chest.
“No.” He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “You need it. I need you… to have it.” You sighed shakily, looking at the book then at Steven.
“We can’t keep pretending, that this, we, could still exist. This is a reminder of that, of false hope and misleading endings.” You put it back into his hands, crossing your arms as a final answer. He exhaled as if in denial, looking at the physical memory in his hand, feeling the words screaming at him.
“Please.” He didn’t know what he was pleading for. For the past? Probably. For the future? Most definitely. For you? You. “It’s the last thing you ever need to do for me, ‘kay? Keep it. I-I’m begging you.” Perhaps it was the desperation in his features, or the fact that you couldn’t deny him anything, or the way your heart was swelling, and you just needed to cry, but you finally nodded, an ‘okay’ falling from your lips as you accepted the book in his hands.
It was a different kind of goodbye. A reminder. You held it in your hands for a few days, staring at in blanky, trying to recapture the exact feelings you felt when you had first been handed it. You had said goodbye to Steven again, and this time, it felt finite.
You were grateful he had convinced you to take the book. You were grateful to be reminded on the time you felt something eternal. Because how many people can say that? That they had a love good enough for movie screens?
The food was gone, and the movie was over. All that was left in your minuscule hidey-hole of the world was the rain. Still pattering down the windows, comforting in nature, providing company, reminding you were alive.
Knock knock knock.
Was that… no, couldn’t be. It must’ve been the wind, you reasoned, sensing the rain getting harsher, as if a storm was brewing. You stood anyway, switching off the TV, putting the rubbish from the food into the bin.
Knock knock knock.
Harder, this time, more determined. Oh. It wasn’t your imagination. There was somebody at the door, Your feet carried you over, your mind not bothered about your appearance or your mood. You had let your hopes get high once before, never again, you promised, as you unlocked the door and let it off the latch.
You opened up the door, a rush of cold air swooping through followed by a nostalgic and particular cologne… your eyes snap up instantly to meet his. His hair is dripping with the rain, a box of heart-shaped chocolates in his hand, his cheeks rosy from the distinctive London chill.
You rubbed your eyes, thinking, surely, that this is a memory, that your brain is playing it’s cruel tricks on you. But, no; he’s here. Breathing heavy, eyes watery, clothes damp, here.
“What are you…” you start, but you shake your head, already knowing the answer. You remind yourself, again and again, this isn’t a movie. “I’m sorry I forgot about your mug, it’s safe, don’t worry, still in the cupboard, I can grab it if you want-”
“I don’t want the mug. Well, actually, I do, I rather miss it sometimes. But, no, I want the mug here,” Your confused as he storms past you, setting the chocolates on the side and shaking off his jacket. “Look, leaving you was the worst mistake of my ‘hole life. I’ve read a lot of books, a lot, and-and thanks to you, I’ve watched tonnes of films, and all of them say the same thing about love. That it’s the greatest thing in the universe. And I believe that. But all these movies, all of literature, tries to say their love story is the best. But no, I don’t believe that. Our love is what the poets wish they had. Our love is what the actors aspire to show. But they never could, cause our love is the best there ever was. I guess I’m tryna say… will you marry me?”
But life was not a movie.
Steven was still at the door. There were no chocolates, no words spoken. There was just rain and cologne and breathing.
You looked at each other, a million words between the two of you, a million monologues to choose from. Flashes of the past, your past, swirled through the air, as if reaching around for the one who created it.
Steven went to speak, but stopped himself, exhaling as he looked at you. I’ve missed you, he wanted to say, but you knew that, could see it in his eyes. I need you, you wanted to say, but he knew that, could feel it in his heart.
So, he smiled. And you smiled back. All the words in his brain slowly settled into just one: “Hi.”
“Hi.” A new beginning. You stepped aside, a pure, real, smile on your face as he came into your apartment. And that night, an unspoken promise was created between the two of you-
There would be no more goodbyes. You would not become a memory again.
#Steven Grant#steven with a v#steven grant x reader#steven grant angst#steven grant imagine#moon knight imagine#moon knight angst#moon knight headcanon#moon knight ff#angst#break up
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