#and it was obvious that they though 'go to doctor less' = healthier

[majimemegoro]

2 days ibuprofen free ☺️

[doctors-journal]

5 June

There was no word from the detective until late yesterday afternoon, or maybe early evening, when there was a knock at the door to the flat. I answered it to find a balding, middle aged man—in good health. I guessed he was some sort of businessman. He said he had come to see the detective about the case.

“He’s out,” I replied. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“He told me to come and wait for him,” the man insisted, quickly becoming agitated. “He said he would come.”

“Fine.” I let the man inside.

He sat restlessly in the detective’s usual chair in the living room. He looked like he was ready to jump up at any moment.

I had just begun to ask what it was exactly he had come to talk to the detective about. I must have glanced away from him, though I don’t think it was for more than a moment, because the next time I looked over, the balding middle-aged man was gone and the detective was sitting in his place. He was still wearing the businessman’s featureless suit and he still looked healthier, less undernourished, but his short, dark hair was back, wild from being kept underneath a wig, and his face was unmistakable.

He gave another little bow at my obvious astonishment.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

I think I caught another grin, though he quickly suppressed it. “The case deepens, my dear Doctor.”

With that, he disappeared into his room and soon reemerged in one of his usual tightly fitted suits that showed off his collarbone and suggested at the rest. Liza was right; he isn’t bad looking, but the haggard lines of malnourishment in his face also seemed all the sharper for their previous absence.

“A brief supper and then it is time to bring this case to a resolution,” he declared.

I joined him at the table.

As we both picked at the other day’s leftovers, he elaborated, gesturing widely with his fork. “A plaster bust is not the only object of apparent inconsequence which has been done away with—all within the same block of flats. It suggests madness, does it not, Doctor, but I fear there is a more sinister method behind it. There must be something of great value indeed, and craftily hidden, by a former resident perhaps, for someone to go to such trouble to find it. I intend to catch them in the act tonight, and if it is amenable to you, your assistance would be invaluable.”

I couldn’t have said what assistance he had in mind, but with nothing else I can do, I agreed to come along.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, pushing away from the table and onto his feet. “Your present costume should suffice, but bring your old service revolver; there may be some danger.”

“What?” I demanded, standing up after him to take our dishes to the sink. “I don’t have a revolver.”

“Then we will just have to rely upon our wits.”

I left the dishes in the sink for later, shrugged on my coat, and followed him out into the cool night.

There was a thick blanket of clouds overhead, tinged orange with the lights of the city. The detective steered me to the bus stop where we waited in silence, his hand still lingering on my shoulder. The bus was empty for most of the trip; what people there were staring at their phones or out into the dark evening—even the orange street lights a stark contrast with the bright inside of the bus.

I could only wonder what I was getting myself into, but the detective was among those lost in his phone and said nothing more.

We got off in what may as well have been another city entirely; the brick townhouses replaced by old, concrete mid-rises, with each balcony telling a different life’s story. I caught a whiff of something cooking: a barbecue rich with spices that almost smelled like it could have drifted in through the door of the field hospital as I worked through the night.

Unfortunately, the scent couldn’t follow us through the insulated door, into the fluorescent-lit lobby—somehow, the detective knew the code to get in. There was no one there; it was just a narrow space between the doors and the stairs. The only sound was the whirr of the air system and the echoing squeak of our shoes against the linoleum. The musty smell of age was half-heartedly covered up with a lemony antiseptic.

The detective led the way up the white-washed stairwell. We padded along each floor, trying to walk as quietly as we could across the thin, grey carpeting, and pausing to listen for any sound of a disturbance. We heard snatches of conversation and the noise of life as we passed by a hundred-some flats but nothing that sounded worth breaking a door in.

When we had gone all the way up, we returned back down, checking again in each hall, until finally we were back in the lobby where we had started. Silently, the detective motioned me over to a door next to the stairwell. He took out a pin and worked it into the lock, and a moment later, the door was open.

Inside was another staircase leading down into the dark. A much stronger dank, musty smell emanated from within, accompanied by the low rattling of machinery. Rows of small metal pipes ran along the walls, down into the dark and up into the wall to carry essential fluids into the flats above.

The detective grabbed tightly onto my wrist with a cold hand as we slowly descended. The door closed with a clink behind us, and his torch flickered on, forming a small pool of light around us that held the darkness at bay at the same time as it made the dark that remained that much more impenetrable. It wasn’t so different from the power outages at the hospital, but I could still hear the machinery—all essential functions still operable.

At the bottom of the stairs, the small pipes along the walls joined with a handful of larger ones, each almost a foot wide. The orange torch light glided across a row of cylinders, each almost as tall as the low ceiling and wider than the detective and I put together. In the middle of the room were several large metal boxes with faded yellow warning signs. All of the labels on everything were torn and faded, and everything was buried underneath a layer of dust, including the cobwebs draped across the corners and between the humming machinery.

The detective’s hand stayed firmly around my wrist and we kept close together so that we wouldn’t get separated in the dark. His quick breathing sounded in my ear and when we bumped together, his breath ghosted across my cheek, making the fine hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Our slow, shuffling footsteps echoed against the metal equipment and concrete walls. Every few paces, we stopped, our ears straining as the detective swung his torch around the room, throwing tall, stark shadows against the walls.

“Aha!” the detective breathed, turning the torch upon the ground at our feet.

There were muddy scuff marks on the floor.

He briefly knelt down to examine them more closely. “Still fresh.”

We took another couple of steps forward into the dark, lingering on gaps in the thick dust that covered everything. I don’t know if I heard the sound first or saw the sudden jerk of the torchlight.

Something scraped against metal. The detective jerked the torch around again. But the only thing standing there were more cylinders and pipes, draped in cobwebs. It was like a labyrinth with infinitely many dark corners in which to hide.

The detective had just started to pull me forward, toward the source of the sound, when we heard another scuffling motion coming from the other side. The detective took a slow, quiet step toward it, and then another. The sound of movement came again, faster, echoing around the room.

The detective bolted for it and there was a cacophony of shuffling footsteps echoing around the room punctuated with half-human silhouettes dancing in flashes of torchlight. Someone gave a loud yelp. I tried to follow the light and sound but only ended up adding to the noise as I stumbled around hard metal corners in the dark. I jolted against something hard as the echoes rose to a crescendo.

“Stop right there!” the detective shouted.

The searing light caught me in the eyes as I fumbled to steady myself against a dusty old pipe.

“Doctor! Did you see where he went?”

I shook my head mutely.

Any need for subtlety gone, the detective switched on the lights. They hummed to life, casting the basement in a flickering, orange glow that cast long, dark shadows across the room. I didn’t see anyone and the only sound was the detective catching his breath—though I wondered if there wasn’t just an echo, but someone else panting in the recesses of the room.

Slowly, we traced our way back around, stopping at the slightest sound or flicker of movement in the corner of our eyes. But that was all we heard or saw of him. We stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“He must still be down here,” the detective whispered into my ear. “We would have heard him if he came out through the door. We just have to wait. He’ll have to come out eventually.”

The detective turned off the lights, and we inched back up the stairs by torchlight, keeping an eye on the bottom just in case. At the top, the detective tugged me with him to sit down on the top step, our backs against the door, pressed shoulder to shoulder. The detective turned off his torch too, so the only light came in through the dusty window, barely illuminating the rest of the short staircase.

“What will you do if you catch him?” I breathed, when it was clear we hadn’t been followed.

“We will have a little talk,” the detective replied cryptically, and that was that.

It was impossible to tell how long we were sitting there. Below, I heard the rattle of machinery and scuffling movement, but no one came to the foot of the stairs. Eventually, the detective’s rigid back relaxed, until his head fell on my shoulder in a deep sleep. I expect he needed the rest.

It was morning by the time he woke up, muttering expletives under his breath.

“No one has come up,” I said as the detective glanced at his phone.

“You were awake?”

I nodded. “I’m used to long nights at the hospital.” But I wasn’t able to stifle a yawn.

The detective turned back on the lights, and we did another turn around down stairs, but we didn’t find anyone, not that there weren’t plenty of places to hide. Finally, we went back upstairs into the blindingly bright lobby.

“There is no use in waiting all day for a man who is plainly not coming up,” the detective said bitterly. “He may very well have another means of egress unknown to us, and now that he has been caught once, I expect he will be all the more careful in the future. We will have to find another way to corner him.”

[angelo-the-doctor-of-feelings]

Hey there, Mike! I saw your post about diet culture and I gotta say that you stated some pretty good points. Although, I was wondering if you can possibly give us an infodump on diet culture entirely with credible sources stating why foods aren’t bad for you? As well as as an faq of sorts for those who think that shaming or lecturing others for their eating habits will help them make healthier eating choices? And maybe include some resources as well for those looking for support as they’re trying to break off from diet culture? Maybe Dr. Feelings could chip in as well also? You don’t have to answer my question if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. I hope you have a good day/night!

Hello anon! ✨️

I'm happy you liked my small rant about diet culture. I didn't know anyone read that -

I don't know if you would call this an infodump since I'm not autistic, but I will do my best to give you all the insight I have! 🧡🤞🏾

Each source will be a hidden hyperlink marked with an emoji that resembles my favourite food because I say so! ✨️

1. Food is not bad (unless it's poisonous, molded or you're allergic to it!)

Food has no moral value. Food is neutral. It has nothing to do with being good or bad or more or less disciplined.

Food is fuel. We can agree that all food is fuel. Your body needs calories to function & so calories are not the enemy. Food also has nutrients your body needs & of course: different foods have different nutrients.

While there are no "bad" foods, it is true that certain foods don't provide much physiological benefit to the body as others. Some foods have ingredients that aren't nutritious for the body, like trans fats & artificial additives. But naturally, your body won't really 'like' them. They are hard to digest & they can cause trouble.

Balance is key!

[🍕] [🥞] [🍪]

2. Why you should not comment on the food choices of another person

... even though you mean well & care about them.

You aren't them.

Hihi, did you think there was more? I can name many other reasons, but they all are summoned up in these three errr four words: YOU ARE NOT THEM.

The ONLY case, in which you were allowed to say something about someone's eating habits, would be if you were their doctor. Which you are likely not.

To be fair, it's hard to watch someone struggle or make the 'unhealthy choice'. It's only natural that you want to help. But only if you really think it would benefit - most of the time, the person is aware of their problem. I think you have to consider the situation & the relationship status.

3. Breaking free from Diet Culture

This is a tough one & it's not easy. As Dr. Feelings, I can give you these tips, but the list is bottomless.

Think of your body as your friend (it is).

Do a lot of self-work: work on your selfworth, on your mindset, on your stress management & your emotional well-being. Consider going to therapy to heal your mind & to improve your mental health.

Define why you want to be free from it, what do you want to achieve? Ask yourself why diet culture has a hold on you & why you let it.

You might want to check out the hashtags #foodfreedom #ditchdietculture & #edrecovery out on social media. There can be a lot of positivity & help there too.

Keep your distance from ANYTHING that screams diet. Like, really. Not worth it. Be aware that gyms & diet companies get more prominent in spring, early summer & as the new year's eve approaches (for obvious reasons). Mostly, it's JUST marketing.

4. Resources for Recovery 🧡

I have found this nice website thay can give you some information on Eating Disorders & about Recovery:

& also this website:

I know you are all strong fighters & I'm very proud of you all! Keep going, you're amazing!

(Wow, that was a lot. I hope you got something from it at least, I'm not as brilliant as Donnie >/////<)

I love you all! 🧡✨️

[marrys-dream-world]

Imposter

Read on AO3

Summary:  Adrien's mother is kind and sweet and loving. The only problem is that it isn't her at all.

Notes: This is based off on this post by @infinitysgrace and a post athat I can’t find anymore, but was about how Emilie’s eye color could be wrong in the wishmaker flashback because it wasn’t her, it was a sentimonster. I took some liberties with sentimonster lore because I’m not 100% sure about all that, but I think it turned out well. 

One of Adrien’s earliest memories is of crying. 

He was young, perhaps three or four, and his room was blurry through his tears. When he grew older, he would get used to his father’s insistence that a night light was coddling Adrien, but at the moment, all he knew was the darkness surrounding him. The room was too big and his bed was in the middle of it, the light from the huge windows playing shadows that tricked his eyes. So he started crying, hoping it would call his parent’s attention and that they would come to him.

(When he grew older, he would learn that crying was useless.)

He felt more than saw his mother coming in, leaving the door open in a crack of light. Her arms wrap around him and she hums soothingly, the sound filling up his chest. She’s warm and smells sweet, like her favorite lavender perfume. He sinks into her, tears drying and sobs reducing to whines. He has tired himself out with that and would probably fall asleep even if left alone, but his mother doesn’t leave. She tucks him in and stays as his eyes close.

The last thing he sees are her wide blue eyes. 

-

Both his parents have drastic mood changes, but Adrien would say that his mother is the most prominent example of this. His father is usually just stoic and, if Adrien pushes him enough, gets annoyed with him. At worst, he’ll get angry and rage at Adrien, calmed down only by his mother’s calm words as she diverts his attention so Adrien can get away. His mother, though, always feels like whiplash.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Adrien, aged seven, asks his mother. He’s sitting on her bed as she packs her bag for another trip with his father. He stopped keeping count of them after the fifth. 

“You’re too young, baby.” She said and even the pet name didn’t stop the sting from her dismissive tone. “Next time, okay?”

He bits back a ‘you said that last time, too’. 

“But I’m already- “

“Adrien.” His mother chides, frowning. Her (disappointed) green eyes held him down. “I said you could stay here with me if you weren't going to be disruptive. Can’t you behave, just this once?”

He swallows back a lump in his throat. “I-I’m sorry, mother.”

But she already turned her back to him and packed the rest of her bag in silence. His mother leaves out her customary goodbye kiss when she leaves for the trip. He isn’t allowed downstairs to see them go and Nathalie insists it isn't a punishment, even though it feels like it. Adrien mopes in his room, not feeling up to enjoy his free day, no tutors or photoshoots, when all he can think about is his mother.

That’s why he’s taken back when she walks in his room.

“Mother?” He gaps, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you left. Aren’t you going to miss your trip?!”

“I changed my mind, Adrien. Your father and I decided that the trip would be more productive with just him.” She said, eyes warm. Adrien always thought it was beautiful how her eyes could look blue or green, depending on the light. 

“But why?” He asked. She had been so excited for the trip!

“To stay with my precious son, of course.” His mother said, taking him into her arms.

All his questions evaporated right then and there. 

-

After their last trip, his parents decided to take a break from traveling. To network, his father informed him, which meant more boring family dinners and stiff ties. His mom always tuts when he complains about it, so he stays silent this time. At least it’s a dinner with Chloé, his best friend, and her family, so he and her are really only required to have dinner and then they can go off and play in the hotel rooms. 

“Arnold- “ Mrs. Bourgeois starts during dinner, before being nervously corrected by her husband.

“It’s Adrien, dear.”

“Oh right, Adrien. You grew up really well, you look more like your mother everyday.” Other people say it gushing, followed by a ‘so cute’ and pinches to the cheek. Mrs. Bourgeois says it like it’s a fact she approves of; Chloé even copies the small nod her mother makes. “You have her eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t think so.” He says as politely as he can, but everyone in the table still throws him confused glances.

“You don’t think you look like your mother?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow.

Adrien shook his head. “No, I just don’t think I have her eyes. Mother’s eyes are blue and green and mine are just green.”

The Bourgeois family looks at him like he grew a second head. His parents, however, become tense all of sudden.

“Emilie, Gabriel, I think your son might be colorblind.” Mrs. Bourgeois says dryly and Adrien waits for his parents to come to his defense. They don’t. 

“Maybe. You know how children are.” His mother says, lightly. “I love your hat, Audrey. Is it new?”

The topic changes to Audrey’s new fashion exploits and Adrien and Chloé are finally allowed to go play. 

(Nathalie takes him to an eye doctor Mr. Bourgeois recommended the next day. The colorblind tests come back as negative.)

-

At age eight, Adrien was already used to working on fashion shows for his father’s brand. It didn’t make them easier to go through, however. 

It’s a summer one, this time, and his clothes are light and airy and his skin felt itchy and hot in the air conditioned cat walk. Looking at the bright lights around him hurt and the camera felt like it was looking uncomfortably deep into his soul. Was it too obvious that he wanted to run away? The crowd claps everytime he comes and everyone is smiling. Except for his father. 

After the show, his father spends the rest of the ride in silence as his mother tries to defuse the heavy tension that permeated the air with small talk and gushing compliments about the clothes and Adrien’s performance. It falls flat as she hardly looks like she’s up for talking, dark shadows under her eyes and skin paler than usual. Whenever Adrien asks her if she’s sick, she denies. As soon as they arrive home, he drags Adrien from the car towards the house, grip strong on his left upper arm. 

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone, Adrien?” His father asked calmly, but his hand tightened on his arm. 

Adrien couldn’t speak. It felt like it was happening to someone else, his mind weirdly detached from the situation. The only thing stopping him from floating away was the pain in his arm. 

“That’s enough, Gabriel.” He heard his mother, voice muffled. It felt like he was underwater in the pool and she was speaking from far away. Her hand, though, he felt acutely as she extricated his father’s hand from his arm. “Adrien, go, please.”

He runs away without second thought, only pausing guiltily at leaving his mother with his irate father when he starts hearing his father’s screaming. Adrien hides under the blankets in his room, heart racing long after the noise stops as he tries to focus his mind into anything else. He startles when he feels a hand touching his blanket cocoon. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He hears his mother’s voice and frantically tears his blanket away. 

Adrien relaxes as he looks into her wide blue eyes and comforting smile, trying to leap for a hug. She stops him. 

“Let me see your arm first.” She says and he reluctantly takes off his jacket, wincing. The bruise on his arm doesn’t look pretty, so it’s for the best that he doesn’t go out much after fashion shows. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt.”

Her tone is soft and she looks, weirdly enough, genuinely confused as she touches the bruise on his arm and coos in apology as he flinches. 

“Father is just stressed.” Adrien parrots back his mother’s usual spiel after his dad does something less than exemplary. “It’s just how she is, it’s okay.”

"It 's not okay.” His mother says right away. “I’m supposed to not let anything hurt you, Adrien.” 

She says that with such a passion that he can believe she actually means it. But instead of the elation he expected when he heard it, all he felt was a surge of anger. Because why now? After all those moments when she scolded him for avoiding his father or not looking him in the eye, why now?

“There isn’t anything we can do about it, is there?.” He snaps, echoing her words to him from what felt like yesterday. 

She deflated. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”

-

His father went away from a trip again and his mother, once again, decided to stay. 

Spending time with his mother during father’s trip was great, especially since she was in such a good mood and looking much healthier than she did these days. She lets him have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert as soon as Nathalie turns her back on them, she spends the whole day playing with him in the garder, she helps with his homework and makes him a snack between classes. They play the piano together, making up different tunes and giggling. 

“Don’t I have to practice this?” He asked, pointing to the sheets of the classical song he was supposed to learn. 

His mother wrinkled her nose.

“You already work too hard, Adrien, it’s nice to have some fun once in a while.” She said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She usually didn’t wear it when spending time with him, only when she spent time with father, so it caught his attention. “Besides, nobody has to know.” 

They watch a movie he picked that night. His mother rarely did that and when she did, she was very picky about it. Artist stuff, he supposed. This time he got to choose, though, and he picked on based on a manga he liked, Astroboy. His mother seemed excited in the beginning, but her mood quickly subdued as the movie went on. 

“Are you not liking it?” He whispered to her and she shook her head.

“I am, baby, don’t worry. Are you?”

“Yeah. It's not really like the manga, but I like it.” He said. “I just think it’s a little unfair, you know. How he doesn’t know he isn’t really the scientist’s son, that he’s just a robot.”

His mother’s arms tighten around him. “I don’t think it’s unfair.”

“Really?” Adrien watched as the images from the screen played on his mother’s blue eyes.

“Really.” She repeated. “Him knowing would be crueler.”

-

At age ten, Adrien is awakened on a rainy night by his mother shaking him.

It was the night his father was supposed to come back from a trip and he had spent a fun day with his mother, studying and playing (“You need both to be a healthy boy, Adrien!” She grinned at him and he beamed back at her). His mother had looked a little skittish earlier, looking over her shoulder often only to just find Natahalie and fidgeting with the ring on her hand, that she usually wore every time his father was traveling. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong and insisted she hadn’t been sick. Nevertheless, he worried. 

“Mother, what’s wrong?” He asked, sleepiness fading away as he noticed how frantic she looked. 

“Adrien, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Every moment I’ve been conscious, it’s been on my mind. Can you trust me?” She asked him, stroking his head with the hand that wore her wedding ring, and he nodded. “I need you to pack a small bag and come with me, okay? We’re going on a trip, just you and me.”

“A trip?” It was all he ever wanted, but the look in his mother’s blue eyes made him hesitate. “Is everything okay?”

“No, baby.” She said, kissing the top of his head. “But it will be. Hurry up, I need you to pack while I handle some things. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”

With anyone else, even his father, he would have asked more questions. This was his beloved mother, though, so he just got up and started to pack his clothes and some of his stuff that he couldn’t do a few days without. He carefully closed his door, running down the stair and to his mother by the door. She looked damp, her outfit changed and an umbrella hanging by her feet along with some bags. 

“Adrien?” She asked, turning her green eyes to him. In her left hand, she held her wedding ring.

“Mother? Are you okay?” He asked, noting how much paler and shakier she looked than when he saw her upstairs. 

“Yes, of course.” His mother said as she put her wedding ring back on. “Whatever I said to you upstairs, forget it, okay?”

“W-what?”

“I didn’t know what I was saying.” She said, eyes staring straight at her ring. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Go back to bed, baby. Your father is back earlier than expected and he won’t like to see you up so late. ”

He nodded, unwilling to argue, and took his bag back with him to his room. His mother suddenly acting weird and standoffish wasn’t anything new, it was fine. She would go back to being his sweet, kind mother soon enough. He was sure of it. 

(She never did.)

[beelspillowpet]

Hello... Could you do some headcanons of the brothers reacting to MC having an ED? Like... Food restriction and p*rging, and, yeah... All of that... Sorry if this is very weird and/or uncomfortable... I struggle with that and I kinda seek comfort... Thanks

So I’ll be the first to say; you’re perfectly fine in asking for this request. You’re not alone in your fight with eating disorders; I have one as well. I try not to touch on it too much in my own media with my characters and such, but I hope you manage to overcome yours, anon. Learning to eat more (or less) is so important and it’s so hard to try and force ourselves to do it right. Please don’t feel like you’re a burden for this ask, it’s brave to even say it outloud, despite being on anon. You’re brave, you’re strong, and you can overcome this.

MC Has An Eating Disorder

CONTENT WARNING BELOW THE CUT!!!! Eating Disorders | Depressive Themes | Generally triggering - please be careful with reading this one.

PLEASE speak to a professional or call the hotline ( (571) 257-3378 ) if you feel like it’s getting beyond your control. Take CARE of yourselves. I don’t know you personally, but I would be sad if you weren’t able to help yourself, especially with how harsh the world has been for the past year.

Lucifer

He notices you don’t eat much at dinner. Originally suspects it’s because the food palette is far from what humans are used to. I mean, brains? From a dragon? They may be Belphie’s favorite, but you weren’t Belphie, now were you? He decides to try and cook (and have his brothers do the same) much tamer foods.

It doesn’t seem to work at first, with how you barely seem to eat. Sometimes you can feel his eyes on you, so you force yourself to scarf down whatever you can before handing the rest to Beel. He keeps an eye on you closely. He invites you to dinners, brunch, the likes. He’s just trying to see what you will and won’t eat.

It’s amazing how he hadn’t caught on to such an obvious answer yet. What makes him realize it though, is after he’s cleaned up from your lunch with him, he finds you in the bathroom, emptying your stomach. He doesn’t fully understand it still. You’ve been found out to been doing this for a long time; even before you got here to the Devildom.

He suspected you were just a smaller person. Something in him just couldn’t believe you were doing this to yourself. He wanted to know why, but getting an answer out of you didn’t seem like a good idea. Chances are you didn’t know either. He brings it up carefully while you two are alone. He explains why he’s concerned, instead of being roundabout with it, choosing to be direct. He cares about you, not just for Diavolo’s sake. He wants you to be able to take care of yourself when he can’t look after you anymore.

Mammon

Is probably the first to notice that you’re starving yourself, save for Beel. He’s been in the business of being a model for long enough, he’s seen others starve themselves and purge just to look thinner. That’s exactly what he catches you doing one day.

He’s worried. He’s dealt with helping his fellow models out with this sort of thing in the past. Albeit not as sensitive, he always managed to get his point across with others. But you? You were eating fine one day, and then for the next three or four days you barely ate anything at all. It’s like you were punishing yourself.

His approach is similar to Lucifer’s but a little more experienced in his talk. He’s explaining that he’s worried about you, and that you need to get some food in you if you’re gonna be able to do anything. With each bit of resistance you give, any excuse you can give, he shoots it down quickly. Mammon has probably heard it a thousand times before. You’re not getting off easy.

He’s trying to be soft yet firm about this. You can tell even he is nervous about this confrontation. Regardless of how you take it, he’s patient and supportive. He even asks you if you’re doing this for a specific reason. He doesn’t expect you to be able to eat full meals the very next day. He catches you snacking on foods every once in a while. Thankfully, healthy stuff instead of junk food. It’s not much, but it’s something for your sake.

Leviathan

He knows almost immediately. He may or may not have a similar issue. Maybe not to the same degree, but he understands it. He decides to wait until you two are alone. Probably in his room. Still he waits, he waits until he can form the words in his head.

When he finally does pick the perfect moment, it’s probably not in his room while you two were watching anime or playing games. He’d likely chickened out in that moment, too afraid of upsetting you with the topic. Instead, he’s now in your room, standing at the door way. Like he’s an intruder, coming to scream at you for your problems.

His words are running together and he’s on the verge of tears. He practiced what he was going to say nearly a thousand times over, but he can barely get a sentence going before the dam breaks and he’s crying. How is he supposed to help you when he can’t even fix his own horrible eating habits? He gets so wrapped up in his otaku life that he sometimes forgets to eat. So who is he to lecture you?

He sits down with you, and you both look into how to fix this. While his problems aren’t as severe, yours definitely are. He doesn’t want to be dramatic, but you seeing a professional about this is probably the best course of action. Neither of you can build up the courage to ask someone else in the house for help, so you call a doctor together. Therapy is now on the table for options of seeking help, and while reluctant still, you wouldn’t bare to see Leviathan like that again. It was for you after all. You wanted to feel better, so he could feel better too.

Satan

Doesn’t pick up on it immediately, but once he does realize it, he’s on to you about it. He makes little remarks about it here and there, never teasing, but very curious. He’s trying to play armchair therapist and figure out what’s causing you to do this to yourself.

Eventually he comes to you while you’re alone and asks you about it. He’s calm and respectful the entire time, trying to get you to open up to him. Is it a lack of control in your life? He can relate to that. Not everyone gets forced to live in Hell for a year and be an exchange student.

He doesn’t exactly shut down each of your attempts of denial so easily as Mammon might, but he’s trying his best. The nonsensical pattern of your eating habits throws him through a loop, and he’s not sure if he’s able to keep up.

He does get one of his friends involved, who happens to be an expert in this field. He just wanted to wager for himself how severe the problem was before he got any help involved. He’s only hoping you can snap out of it and get yourself together. He doesn’t want you starving yourself for any reason.

Asmodeus

Like Levi, he may or may not have had a similar problem. Maybe to the same tune as a model, but it’s not a severe case. Regardless, when he catches you starving yourself, he’s unnerved by it. You said you weren’t hungry but your stomach is growling for food. Everyone thought it might have been Beel’s stomach, but it’s yours.

You’re only eating specific things at specific times. You can’t allow yourself to snack at all, and sometimes when you do, you withhold yourself from eating anything for the next day or so. Sometimes you won’t even leave your room. on those days.

Asmo is smart, so when you start wearing bigger clothes in vain hopes to cover up your skinny body, he steps in. He’s soft spoken and gentle, telling you how much he loves you and cares about you. He’s not afraid to tell you that your eating habits are hurting your body. He’s careful about it, and he’s trying to make sure you understand where he’s coming from. He’s doing this because he sees so many things that can go wrong with this. He doesn’t want any of them to become a reality.

With his help, you start to pick healthier things to eat. You aren’t eating full meals yet, let alone half your plate, but it’s more food than you were consuming before. He keeps you at it and overtime starts to see even more progress with you. He’s glad you’re coming around with his help.

Beelzebub

He for one, is glad that you seem to eat a lot. It’s not every day you see a human able to put food away like he does. Well- not quite like how he does, but close enough! You eat normally while in the dining room with the brothers, but then at night when everyone is in their rooms, you’ll go to the kitchen with him and eat the entire fridge’s contents.

You figured the last person to notice these issues is someone else who has a problem with their eating habits. While Bele isn’t exactly a human, you could consider his eating habits similar to just bingeing. Almost constantly, at that. Disappearing after eating with him is common practice. You’ll rush to the bathroom and purge your stomach of all its contents you had just consumed. Part of you is extremely guilty, eating all that food just so you could throw it up later.

Beel is a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. At some point, he does catch you throwing up into the toilet. He was coming to take a shower before leaving for RAD when he found you doubled over the bowl. It was a few minutes after breakfast. He had figured by now, you’d been doing this for a while, long enough to where you’d start turning the sink on (sometimes flushing the toilet or turning on the shower) to hide the sounds. It didn’t work today.

He didn’t understand why you’d do this to yourself. He’d never really heard of eating disorders before, and always assumed it was normal to just eat whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. He figured trying to be careful with his own eating habits around you, would help you learn to eventually figure out how much you could eat. He’s patient, always talking to you while you eat with him, trying to distract your brain from the stress of eating. When you can’t finish all of your food that’s okay; he’s there to eat however much is left. It works out perfect for the both of you. He just wants to make sure you’ve at least eaten enough for your own body first.

Belphegor

Pica is a strange one. Belphie knows about these sorts of things. His twin brother is Beel, how could he not?

He’s almost certain you’ve got it. He’s never seen a human eat things like dirt, mud, or rocks. Beel, of course has eaten an entire pillar in the Demon Lord’s castle, but he’s not human. He’s not even a normal demon. You, on the other hand, are presumed to be a totally normal human. And humans don’t eat rocks.

He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up at first. He takes you up to the attic for a nap, and while you’re both laying there together, realizes that you two are alone. Now is just as good of a time as any, right?

Because it’s such a fatal things, Belphie is more than just determined to help you. As soon as possible, you’re seeing a doctor for this. He wants you to feel good about yourself, and your body can’t be feeling good if it doesn’t have normal foods to keep itself going. It may seem a bit selfish, but he wants to make it up to you. If you can’t properly care for yourself, he’ll make it his life’s goal to care for you. 

[tearlessrain]

Giant Masterlist of Cathar Facts (that I completely made up but nonetheless rigidly adhere to)

I am an unstoppable force and disney should have killed me when they had the chance (that chance was splash mountain when I was seven and as you can see I survived).

Under a break because it is way too long and covers really quite a lot, much of which I will probably never even need. But researching and writing this kind of thing is what I consider a fun afternoon so here we are.

General basic stuff

Cathar are basically felids evolved to fill a similar evolutionary niche to humans in the absence of any viable apelike species on their native planet, in the same way hyenas evolved to fill a niche normally occupied by canids. 

They are pursuit predators but not terribly efficient ones outside their home planet. In terms of both speed and strength they can outperform humans on average in the short term, but have noticeably less stamina especially when it comes to running or walking long distances. They greatly outmatch any quadrupedal felids for stamina, however. (Mandalorians are an invasive species)

They run hotter than humans, around 100-102F.

Though height varies quite a bit, cathar are taller on average than humans and build muscle easily, making them extremely formiddable opponents in hand-to-hand combat.

The average face/skull shape of cathar is largely based on assumptions that they evolved under weirdly similar conditions to humans evolving from early hominids, aka shortening of the face, larger cranium, smaller mouth, etc.

While they are obligate carnivores and do have elongated canines, their teeth are more even in size than wild felids, and while they do still have barbed tongues, the barbs are relatively small/soft and more similar to a housecat than anything of comparable size (aka they won’t literally take your skin off if they lick you).  They also have somewhat thinner skin than wild cats, though they are still more damage resistant than humans.

They do not have retractable claws because that’s not how fingers work, but they do have narrow, naturally pointed claws rather than humanlike fingernails. Many cathar choose to either dull them or file them down for convenience, but losing/damaging them, as per that one ambient dialogue on Dromund Kaas that I can never find when I need it, is extremely traumatic for them. 

They have tails because I want them to, used for both balance and communication. Cathar tails are approximately lion-like, thin with a coarse tuft at the end regardless of markings (ie. a cathar with stripes won’t have a tiger tail), with the tip the same shade or a few shades darker than the darkest part of their coats. occasionally those from colder regions will have longer fur over the whole tail, or look like they don’t have a tuft due to longer fur overall. 

Variation and a lot of bullshitting about genetics

Wookiepedia describes Cathar as “a planet of savannas and rough uplands” but I refuse to believe that all these habitable worlds are all one consistent climate/temperature across the whole globe. The weirdly ubiquitous infrastructure/cultural info I can kind of forgive since 90% of them were wiped out by Mandalorians and the rest left, and I’m charitably assuming there were a lot less than 7 billion cathar to begin with, so a lot of smaller or more isolated cultures across the planet were lost entirely. 

They have less sexual dimorphism than SWTOR implies, though females are a little smaller on average and tend to have shorter/finer manes that are closer to their base color. In terms of relative strength/mass the difference is minor and female cathar are still very capable of fucking you up (the conventional assumption in the Empire that females are weak/docile and males are too uncontrollable to enslave is not remotely true in either direction). 

Variation in fur/metabolism/ear and nose shape depends on which region/s of Cathar they come from (or their ancestors come from), but they don’t recognize different “races” the way humans do, particularly in the wake of the Battle of Cathar. 

On average, cathar originating closer to the equator have shorter, finer fur, larger and more tapered ears, a tendency toward slender, lanky builds, and coloration that leans more toward golds/reds and higher pigment density. whereas those closer to the poles are much stockier and can be extremely fluffy, sometimes with an undercoat, with paler colors and less vivid/extensive markings. None of the above is universally true and cathar didn’t necessarily always stay in the region where their ancestors come from (and thus sometimes you get people like Riska, who is all limbs but has fairly northern features and entirely too much fur)

Cathar mostly left their planet in groups, so in some parts of the galaxy you’ll run into whole colonies that originate mostly from one part of the planet and have distinct appearances/cultural idiosyncrasies from other colonies.

They mainly follow the same general rules that apply to most felids in terms of coloration/pattern.

Markings can be stripes, spots, or less commonly rosettes (definitely some version of Taqpep variants) and mostly lie along Blaschko’s Lines, though it’s more obvious on some individuals than others and it isn’t always perfectly precise. Even spotted individuals usually display some striping on the tail and around the eyes, though not always. 

“Default” coloration is black-based, with dark markings on a greyish or brownish base. 

Countershading falls pretty much along patterns you’d expect and usually lightens the chest/stomach, lower face, palms/soles, and inner thighs. Specific distribution and patterns vary quite a bit, and sometimes express in odd ways (hence whatever is going on with Khatte). Darkest points tend to be the tail tip, nose bridge, and mane.

Genetically solid cathar are incredibly uncommon; much more common are genes that affect the appearance/distribution of markings, sometimes rendering them almost invisible. Even ones who appear mostly solid (aka Khatte) usually still have some faint striping around the face and/or tail.

Khatte is basically some loose equivalent of ticked tabby, which mostly just looks like weird countershading but leaves some faint striping on his face and tail.

Jial-ro’s coloration is the result of a gene that suppresses all eumelanin production, and a sepia-like form of partial albinism. 

Riska has something similar, along with something that reduces the size/spread of spots.

Food 

They’re mainly carnivorous and have different nutritional requirements from humans (similar but not identical to those of a cat), which can be a problem in places like the military where standardized rations are the norm. In the Republic a cathar can usually put in a request for rations designed to accommodate carnivores (or supplements, failing that), though they might have some trouble on more isolated or undersupplied planets. The rare cathar in the Imperial military have to procure supplements out of pocket, though it’s technically possible to get reimbursed for it if they’re willing to wade through the bureaucracy.

Cathar are perfectly capable of eating raw meat with few to no ill effects, and have a subgenre of cuisine centered around it (and while they didn’t invent sushi, they have enthusiastically embraced the concept). They also have plenty of ways of cooking meat and readily adopt any new ones they come across. 

Their “natural” diet apart from meat mainly consists of fruit, root vegetables, and eggs, though the closer to the poles you get the less likely you are to encounter fruit in a dish. Cathar never cultivated grain and it holds no meaningful nutritional value for them, so bread, rice, and similar products simply do not appear in traditional cuisine. This does not stop some of them from eating grain products in small amounts, as they can still enjoy the taste, but it isn’t any healthier than processed sugar is to humans and they have a high rate of gluten intolerance as a species.

All cathar have a heightened and refined ability to detect savory/umami type flavors, but around 30-40% of cathar, and the vast majority of those from colder regions, have no taste receptors for sweetness at all. This has resulted in the cathar equivalent of the Cilantro Debate centering around desserts, even though they’re all perfectly aware that it’s genetic, and some who can’t taste sweetness still enjoy some desserts for the other flavors present. Those who do have sweet taste receptors are about as sensitive to it as humans, but it tends not to have the same addictive quality for them and a lot of them don’t like processed sugars in anything but small doses. They would appreciate a lightly sweet creme brulee but most of them would find soda absolutely disgusting.

Citrus is right out.

They suffer no more ill effects than humans from drinking alcohol, and due to generally having a fair amount of mass they can usually drink a lot of it.

Social minutiae

They use a fair amount of feline body language, particularly with others of their own species. While facial expressions play a part and they do smile, scowl, and generally express broad emotions, they have a reduced range of facial mobility compared to more humanoid species and no eyebrows to speak of, which leads to a lot of them having what humans perceive as resting bitchface. It also results in humans underestimating the range and depth of their emotions, and can be a problem in the medical field with human medics/doctors who haven’t been trained to work with less humanoid aliens and won’t necessarily recognize severe pain or distress.

Their ears are less articulated than a cat’s but still have some degree of mobility that serves more of a social function than a practical one. They also express a lot of emotion through their tails, to the point that it can be a detriment in some situations if they haven’t practiced consciously keeping control of it.

Bumping foreheads is a common way to express platonic/familial affection, or can be the equivalent of a chaste kiss between partners. They also squint and slow blink, though it doesn’t always translate clearly to other species.

They have a wider range of vocalization than humans; while their voices are often humanlike and they’re just as capable of articulate speech, they can also growl, purr, and make sounds outside human hearing range. Those raised among humans or near-humans tend to do this less, if at all, while cathar raised in more insular communities of their own kind can come off as very taciturn due to heavier reliance on nonverbal communication.

Sense of smell is much stronger and more refined than a human’s and plays a more significant role in how they perceive and navigate the galaxy. They can occasionally be mistaken for Force-sensitive by humans due to their knack for picking up on emotional distress or the presence of particular species/people by scent. This is more true with people they’re familiar with; they won’t pick out distinct members of the other species by default but will eventually be fairly reliable in identifying the scent of a friend or anyone else they spend a lot of time around.

The exception to the above is other cathar, who they can easily tell apart on an individual basis. They have scent glands around the jaw/neck that come into play for identification, conveying broad emotional states, in some situations can aid medical diagnoses, among other things. They also play a part in building connection and familiarity between friends, family, or romantic partners.

The ~horny section~

Cathar don’t really kiss the way humans do by default, but they can, and usually do so unless they’ve somehow had no contact with any near-human species at all. Their equivalent is gentle biting around the neck and jaw, which is another situations where the scent glands are relevant, and when aroused that whole area becomes an erogenous zone for the vast majority of cathar. 

Plenty of humans (particularly if they don’t encounter a lot of aliens day to day) will avoid kissing cathar anyway because they have sandpaper tongues and dry mouths and fangs, and it feels fucking weird if you aren’t prepared for that. 

They tend to be very bitey in general unless specifically asked not to. It only becomes a problem if the cathar in question is inexperienced with humanoids and hasn’t figured out how much bite force is acceptable for a species with thinner, more sensitive skin.

Their dicks are fairly humanoid in size and shape, though somewhat more conical at the head, but they do have a sheath rather than a foreskin. after maturity they don’t actually retract into the sheath more than about two inches when flaccid, and tend to be slightly less sensitive than the average human (same keritinization factor that affects circumcised humans). It also makes them more vulnerable to damage, but since it’s customary to wear pants on most civilized planets, that never really becomes a problem in the course of a normal day. The base of the shaft that’s usually covered has noticeably higher sensitivity. There are probably individual exceptions to most of the above.

Conventional understanding is that cathar don’t have barbs, which is true the vast majority of the time, though about 60% of them have some amount of vestigial non-keratinous bumps over their head that have no noticeable affect on anything aside from occasional increased sensitivity in that area. Rarely an individual might develop a few actual barbs at the onset of puberty, but they have no practical function and pose a risk of discomfort and injury, and can easily be removed via a fast and mostly painless medical procedure, so the number of adults who have them is close to zero.

Females do have (mild, easy to suppress if desired, and mainly not at all disruptive) heat cycles. Other cathar can generally tell by scent, but not to a distracting degree, and it’s considered rude and inappropriate to point it out with anyone but a close friend or partner. It should go without saying that males don’t have heat cycles, but I’ve gotten enough weird DMs about this to know that I need to say it. Unless said male is trans, and not on any sort of HRT, that’s not how that works. 

They kind of have breasts but unless actively nursing they’re barely noticeable if at all, especially under clothing. Cathar have much fewer hangups about going topless regardless of gender than certain human cultures do.

[here4theheartbreak]

Sometimes I fall to pieces Just to see what bits of me don't fit 'Cause I when I stand oh those folks will run And tell the tales of what I've become They'll speak of me, oh in whispered tones And say my name like it shakes their bones

For an uneventful few months, I feel like it’s been wildly busy! I’m doing well though - figuring out what fits/what doesn’t, as it were, and pulling myself together into a healthier self.

It’s my spring cleaning weekend, so I decided that now would be a good time to clean up some stuff virtually too, and make some general update posts. Not a whole lot of note is going on; still working, dealing with kiddo at home, etc.

I haven’t been writing much (i.e. at all) for the past few months, so once I finish publishing my current ongoing fic (it’s already finished, just spacing chapter publication) I may end up going on a hiatus from writing. I’m not leaving the fandom or anything, just haven’t been super inspired by any ideas and I have no idea how to push that writing must into action.

But I am doing other forms of art/creation - such as the sculpture things I’ve been posting now and again on my blog. I’ve also gotten into making junk journals, I think that’s super fun and would like to try and make one or two inspired by the groups I like. Who knows. In the next few weeks I’ll post the first one I made, I’m super proud of it. I have an appt in a few weeks to meet with a surgeon for carpal tunnel surgery though - the downside to doing these sculpture related things is that all the fine motor skills needed has served to worsen the condition of my wrists (which were already not great due to excessive computer work/typing and video gaming for hours on end.) But I’m hoping the surgery will resolve it; doing any sort of miniature work/crafting is impossible with a brace (and typing isn’t super easy either).

On a personal transition related front, I have an appointment with a doctor in September to discuss my next transition related surgery (a hysterectomy). I’m excited to move it along, and as of now this’ll be my last surgery unless I decide to go forward with bottom surgery (still researching/undecided for now).

Though a minor surgery compared to top surgery, which changed my outward appearance, it’s still one I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. For the obvious bonus of no more goblin parasite risk (I love my kid, I just never ever want another one 😂) but also just the general benefit of decreasing that warring hormone in my body. Once it’s gone I’ll hopefully be able to decrease my T dosage a smidgen, which should help with some of the negative side effects of T that I’ve had over the years (hair loss, etc). But we’ll see - Consult first, then moving forward.

On a less positive transition note - I learned that a Montana judge put an (albeit temporary) injunction to block the anti-trans law the gop put in place to make it harder for us to change the gender marker on our birth certificates. Unfortunately, even with that blockade in place, the department is proving just how horrifically transphobic and cruel a conservative state can be and now refusing to issue birth certificate gender marker changes to trans folks entirely. They’d honestly rather be held in contempt of court than to give a transgender person any rights 😂 - I will be curious to see if the plaintiff’s legal team comes back and attempts to get the gov’t to comply in some way. I’m upset about it, but not personally; even with the new more anti-trans rules I acknowledge that I had the requirements met, but I’m upset for those that can’t meet those requirements, so I hope that something can be done about it.

Well, I don’t want to end on an upsetting note! So, I’m super excited about Astro’s new comeback; it’s meant to be out in a little over a week and looks like it’ll be such a fun summer album. I pre-ordered all of the versions already 🙈 And then BTS’ new songs, I’m curious to hear what they’ve done - I hope they’ll be good. I’ll end up pre-ordering that album as well when I get paid.

Which reminds me I need to go through all my kpop merch and start culling it down 😅 - get rid of the merch I don’t love/don’t need/want and sell it. So, if anyone is interested, I can post my Mercari page once I get stuff listed.

But. That’s about it going in my life - just a jumble of work and other dull adulting stuff. I hope all of you are doing well and doing your best to enjoy your lives. Remember that you can’t always stop bad things from happening, but you can hold tight to the good when it comes, and even a sliver of joy - no matter how thin - is something to keep going for.

[bi-dazai]

okay while we're on the subject of eating healthy and exercising, I want to vent/talk about weight loss. This is gonna be a rly controversial, very personal and extremely long post but I do want to make a point. I'm not going to discuss every fucking nuance of haes or my EDs. But for clarity, know that my eds are complicated and were mostly osfeds - minor anorexia osfed in high school and bed osfed when I was 18-19. after i realised how fat i was the minor anorexia came back and over the pandemic it became full scale anorexia nervosa.

I'm 5'3. The healthy weight range I should be in is in the high 40s-low 50s. I went up to TWICE that by the time I was just nineteen years old. It wasn't fun being fat. I consumed as much fat acceptance, fat activism content as I could, I pretended I was confident and happy even when I was fat. But I wasn't. Because people don't just get obese accidentally. A little overweight, yes. But obese? No. You get obese from depression, from giving up. You don't want to move so you don't. You're sad all the time, and the body positivity circles say eat comfort food, whatever and as much as it makes you feel better!! Do you know what that is? That's encouragement of BED. Do not say that. Because I did that. I ate sugar and junk food, I was still depressed.

I was reading these posts that were claiming fat people shouldn't be weighed at the doctor, that your weight shouldn't count, that BMI is incorrect and doesn't matter, etc etc. There were posts saying that they got "perfect bloodwork" (what even is that? I knew that was wrong, I've had chronic iron deficiency for a decade!) even though they were fat, so they had to be healthy, right? I got shown pictures of obese ballerinas and obese weightlifters blah blah blah. And I grew and grew, and I got to almost 85kg on the fast track to 100kg before reality smacked me in the face and I realised I was shortening my lifespan by decades.

Here's what it was like being obese!

- joint pain, constantly

- could barely walk anywhere without feeling out of breath

- couldn't find any fashionable, good quality clothes (plus size stores either carry unfashionable clothing, or fashionable but cheap quality clothing. I don't like to waste money on cheap clothes)

- more acne than I'd had in years

- oily skin

- more difficulty feeling "full"

- JOINT FUCKING PAIN

- rashes from skin rubbing against skin!

- even larger chest, making me MORE dysphoric

- back pain!!

- snoring - this is not just embarrassing. This is potentially deadly.

- DYSPHORIA

- KNEES. JOINT PAIN.

- DYSPHORIA

this was just things I felt physically, noticeably! The things that my fat was doing on the inside was even worse. Fat isn't just this layer of packing peanuts that appears on top of you. It coats your organs. It gets everywhere. It makes your entire body run worse.

Fat also makes it much more likely for you to not just GET cancer, but it it also makes it harder to FIGHT cancer. Being obese makes almost every single goddamn sickness on the planet worse because when you have THAT MUCH fat tissue the hormones and shit it secretes fucks EVERYTHING up.

Yes there are obese bodybuilders. Yes there are obese ballerinas. Let's talk about those two.

There are plenty of drs and dieticians who have pointed out the obvious - if an obese person was really, actually eating healthily and exercising every day, they would not stay obese forever. Its not magic, it's thermodynamics. CICO done right works for everyone. If you are eating healthy, appropriate portions for weight loss at your TDEE and exercising it would literally be IMPOSSIBLE for you not to lose weight!! Even more the heavier you are because when you exercise you carry around a lot more weight.

Obese weightlifters are still obese. They are not proof you can be obese and healthy. They are still going to die younger if they do not lose weight.

Let's talk about fat ballerinas. The only ones I've seen are trainee ballerinas, not professional ones. And their performance looks impressive at first, until you look closer. You notice their balance is never quite perfect, their control can be amazing and the best ever but they'll still be off. Why? Because fat moves around with your movement, and it displaces your balance and your line of movement. It's simply not possible to do something like ballet dancing as a fat person without risking major injury as well. En pointe is already stupid dangerous for the skinniest ballerina. Going en pointe at anything above 60kg is going to get progressively suckier the heavier you go. And god help your ankles because falling down will always end in a major injury.

I'm so fucking done with "fat acceptance". I'm tired of "body positivity" being a movement about obese middle-upper class white women and not about scars and disabilities etc like it was focused on in the start. I have no problems with Health at Every Size - every person should feel happy to workout, to eat healthy. I have no problem raising issue with people bullying others for their weight as well. That's wrong. But pretending that it's Healthy at Every Size is a fucking lie, and it's one that could've sentenced me to an early death. Healthy at Every Size said I was condemned to joint pain and oily skin and depression and exhaustion for the rest of my life based on cherrypicked sentences from studies that didn't agree with them. That "95% of diets fail" sentence in particular drives me up the wall. You don't need a diet to lose weight, you need healthy CICO, you need to eat below your TDEE, you need to eat healthy, and you need to exercise. All you have to do at first is go on a 10-20 minute walk, whatever pace you like, a few times a week.

You can BE fit, you CAN lose weight! You are not sentenced to having joint pain and an increased risk for cancer and a less effective COVID vaccine for life. You can change your body in incredibly ways. You have no idea what you are capable of.

There's this myth that weight loss takes keto and shakes and diet pills and crash diets etc. It doesn't. All it is is making sure you eat less than your TDEE, eating HEALTHY calories, and getting your heartrate up by exercising at least 175 minutes a week.

The human body is not meant to be obese. There's no such thing as a set point weight. There's CICO, there's nutrition, there's making sure your muscles dont atrophy. Weight loss and fitness isn't some magic thing that youre just born able to do. I was lazy throughout my entire teens. I thought fitness was something the popular girls did. It's not. It's for everyone. and everyone, especially in places with an obesity epidemic such as the US, UK, and Australia, should make use of it. It's a good thing. Walking is one of the best things you can do for your body, and it's incredibly rewarding in every way. Eating healthy and not eating until you feel like you're going to burst is rewarding in every way. And it's not like you can't ever have junk food again, you just have to limit it to a treat, a once or twice per week thing. And honestly, it makes it much more enjoyable that way.

Now I want to talk a little about my anorexia. My weight loss journey came to anorexia. This is because it was an eating disorder I'd had for a long time. I did not see a trainer or dietician, and I consciously decided to push myself too far. I consciously decide to eat less and exercise more when I am starving. This is not something that just happens because someone is eating at 1200cals. It happens because you have an eating disorder which you are born with. Saying people who eat 1200cals of healthy food a day and exercise right are "anorexic" is so fucking insulting to everyone involved. It's ableist and ignorant. 1200cals is also a pretty generous amount for anorexic ppl to eat. That's close to a binge in ED standards, so that should give you a reference for how offbase saying 1200cals is "anorexic" is.

My anorexia is healthy habits pushed into eating disorder territory. I eat healthy, yes, but I don't eat enough. I exercise, yes, but I often push myself too far when I'm already lacking energy. The advice I give people for health is correct, and I'm never going to go around saying "eat less than 1200cals" as weightloss advice. Eat less, sure, but there's a limit. Calorie counting is a good thing to do, tracking your macros and nutrients is good. But I do it too much.

I know what's healthy, a lot of ppl with restrictive and purgative EDs do. People with EDs can give some awesome health advice, we just can't follow it because we have a mental disorder. Believe it or not people with EDs discussing their EDs are not "pro-ana", pointing out that anorexia and people with anorexia are real and not some boogeyman you use to justify not losing weight and eating healthy is not pro-ana. Anorexia existing is not pro-ana and anorexics being anorexic has nothing to do with fatphobia.

this post is a rambling mess but i rly had to get some stuff clear on how I feel abt this stuff because it's getting concerning how much unhealthy shit, and then straight up ableist shit, that the fat acceptance crowd spews out.

A little exercise won't kill you, eating healthy won't kill you. You are not sentenced to ugly plus size fashion and joint pain and being out of breath for the rest of your life. Leave the Healthy at Every Size death cult and join the Health at Every Size movement. Let the doctor take your weight (it IS medically necessary). acknowledge that you are obese and it is affecting your health. It's scary but it can be the start of a new, healthy beginning. It was for me.

Losing 15kg has been the best thing in my life. Sure, the anorexia is there enjoying it for one reason. But the reason I truly enjoy it is because I've discovered what a healthier body feels like. I've discovered the joys of exercise, I've discovered the joys of eating healthy. I can fit nice clothes now. And I'm still overweight! I'm 66kg, that's 4kg away from the barest minimum acceptable healthy bmi. But I feel so so much better. I look better. I have a jawline! Good skin! Energy! It didn't fix me but it sure made me a hell of a lot better.

Please please try and eat healthy, eat an appropriate amount, go for walks. It's so so good, and if you do it right you WILL lose weight. You'll live past 50. You'll get to explore the world in a way you couldn't when going up stairs had you out of breath. You'll fit into that nice skirt you've been looking at. Your skin will clear up. You'll have energy and your mental health will improve.

It's so so fucking worth it to put effort into your health, like I cannot emphasise this enough. Please do it, I wish I could tell myself this when I was binging on junk because the FA crowd told me it was valid to comfort eat until I hurt.

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 5: Second Opinion

((Chase and Jameson do what they can to help the former District Attorney feel more comfortable, before Dr. Schneeplestein calls on a colleague for a second opinion.

Side note, but the tiger toy mentioned here is absolutely based off of the one Chica had in one of the more recent Unus Annus videos. That is an entirely real thing that someone else came up with, and I love it. Schneeplestein’s accent is also inconsistent. I try not to play it up too much, but feel free to let me know if it’s ever annoying or hard to read.

Link to the previous part if you want it here, plus a link to the Traces of Silver masterlist.))

The wolf’s ears perked up and they tensed, just enough to warn Jameson before a knock came at the examining room door, one that sounded suspiciously like someone was actually kicking it.

“Mind if I come in?” called a voice on the other side, and after a beat added, “I can’t, uh, get the door.”

Jameson jumped up and opened the door for Chase, whose hands were full with a couple of plastic bags bearing the name of a local pet store and a paper bag which was giving off a smell that made Jameson’s moustache twitch as he sniffed.

“Whoa,” Chase said, nearly dropping it all when he spotted the massive wolf moving into a sitting position on top of the examination bed, silver eyes turned in their general direction. “They’re so big!”

The wolf’s ears went back and Jameson came very close to facepalming before he quickly signed a reproach.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean—sorry, I’ve just never seen a werewolf in person that was still—” Chase stopped himself and sighed before trying again. “Hi, I’m Chase, uh, Chase Brody, and a pro at putting my foot in my mouth, apparently. And you look so cool.”

The wolf tilted their head, clearly confused.

“JJ and the others are living in my house right now, with another guy I’m not sure if you’ve met yet, Jackie? They told us all about you!” Chase paused and quickly added, “But not that you were a werewolf, that was kind of a surprise—”

Chase hissed at Jameson’s sudden weight on top of his foot and took the hint to stop talking already.

“What is all of this?” Jameson signed, gesturing toward the bags.

“Ow. And oh, I got hot dogs! The guy was setting up his cart on the corner and I thought you guys might be hungry…mostly because I was kind of hungry.” Chase dropped the other bags on the floor and opened the sack to show Jameson the foil-wrapped hot dogs stacked inside. “The doc’s still looking up what’s safe for a wolf to eat so we can stock up at the house, but we figured the plain ones should be good if you want a few, Y/N.”

Jameson reached into the bag and unwrapped one of the plain hot dogs before putting it on the tray next to the wolf’s bed, alongside the bowl of water he’d set out earlier. The wolf’s nose twitched, but they hesitated before turning their head away.

“Well, it’s there if you want it,” Chase said with a shrug. “Jameson, here’s one with relish for you.”

Jameson walked back toward the door, but instead of reaching into the bag he signed, “They’ve barely touched their water, too. Maybe something’s wrong?”

“The doc said to give them time,” Chase signed back before saying aloud, “The main reason I went out though was to pick up some stuff from the pe—uh, store that might help Y/N feel a little better.”

“Really?” Curious, Jameson opened one of the plastic bags and rummaged through what looked like a sampling of the entire dog grooming section, from various brushes to clippers and even nail trimmers. He looked from the bag to the wolf’s heavily matted coat of fur and then back at Chase. “I suppose we could give it a try, if Y/N is willing.”

“Y/N—” Chase started, turning just in time to see the wolf’s head snap back up. The nearby tray was noticeably hot dog-less now, a fact that Jameson pointed out with an elbow to Chase’s side that he didn’t need.

While the wolf’s agreeing nod was less than enthusiastic, after Chase and Jameson ate (and after the wolf devoured a few more of the plain hot dogs when they thought the other two weren’t looking), they awkwardly moved down from the bed to the floor to make the whole process easier.

At which point Chase and Jameson became very aware that even when seated on the floor, the wolf’s head was still almost at chest level. And that they had an obvious problem when the moment one of them moved closer, the wolf almost instinctively skittered backward on the floor until they were up against the bed.

“Whoa, easy, easy,” Chase said while Jameson gave a gentle hushing sound, but the wolf just sank down with a low whine. Chase looked to his left and saw Jameson signing urgently. “Y/N, JJ’s saying that if you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to do this, okay? He says it’s okay, you’re okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”

He waited a second before adding for himself, “But if you’ll let us get some of that old fur off, I do think you’ll feel a little better. I promise we’ll be gentle and stop the second you want us to.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually the wolf moved forward, away from the bed and back toward the middle of the floor. They flinched again when Jameson’s hand touched their shoulder, but the reaction wasn’t nearly as bad this time, and they slowly followed his lead to lie down with their large head resting in his lap.

Jameson stroked the top of his friend’s head, slow, small movements that gradually helped the wolf to not so much relax, but at least not shy away when Chase started in with the brush and the other tools he switched to as needed, both noticing the obvious shudders running up and down the wolf’s spine with every touch of a brush or comb.

After a few minutes, Jameson signed, “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I used to have a dog when I was younger,” Chase said with a shrug. “Plus, this is nothing compared to trying to get gum out of the hair of a 4-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.”

The wolf’s ears twitched and Jameson glanced at Chase, whose face had clouded over as if he already regretted saying that. Jameson gestured toward the other bag of shopping Chase had yet to touch and asked, “What is in there?”

Relieved at the change of subject, Chase slid the bag toward the other man and said, “Take a look, I picked up a couple of other things I thought Y/N might like.”

Jameson looked into the bag and a few seconds later Chase became aware of the gentleman’s glare.

“What?” Chase asked.

“Dog treats, really? And tennis balls?” Jameson looked in the bag again and pulled out a stuffed tiger that, bizarrely, had a set of very visible abs. “And what even is this?”

“I don’t know, I just thought I’d get a couple of things to cheer them up,” Chase said, and again the wolf’s ears flicked as though trying to figure out what they were talking about.

“And that includes a sexy tiger toy?”

“…It made me laugh,” Chase muttered.

“You are so lucky they can’t see this,” Jameson signed back, tying the bag shut before going back to stroking Y/N’s head.

It took what felt like forever, but finally Chase ran a brush through the wolf’s coat for the last time, causing the last few strands of loose hair to come floating down to join the rest of the scattered piles that all together probably could have been used to make a small dog on their own. With the mats and shed fur gone, the wolf’s coat already looked much healthier and darker, and Jameson gave a low whistle as the wolf stood up.

“Lookin’ good,” Chase added. “How’s it feel, Y/N?”

The wolf shook their self and paused before raising a paw up, waiting until Chase took the hint and shook it with a wide grin.

“Awesome!” And, unable to contain himself as he shook the werewolf’s paw, he added, “��Oh my God, your paw is so huge, I love it—”

The sound that came from the wolf took both Chase and Jameson by surprise, especially as it sounded suspiciously like a barely suppressed laugh.

---

The wolf returned to the examination bed and spent most of the rest of the day dozing on and off, waking as Chase took his leave, and again to hear Jameson’s soft, muffled snoring not long before the doctor entered the room and gently but firmly directed the gentleman to a bed of his own in another room, assuring him all the way that he would keep an eye on his friend.

Sometime later, Dr. Schneeplestein looked up from his paperwork and saw the wolf’s clouded eyes were open.

“Y/N, zhis is Dr. Schneeplestein. Jameson is sleeping next door, if you are not comfortable with just me.”

The wolf’s ears moved, showing they heard, but aside from a soft sigh there was no other response.

“If you change your mind, I vill understand,” the doctor said before returning to his papers. “Marvin called earlier, to check on you. I told him he needed more sleep, but as usual he is ignoring me. He will be here as soon as he has looked up somezhing, he says.”

The doctor waited a few minutes before saying, as casually as he could, “I have an associate, a good doctor at a local hospital, very respected if he does not have zhe experience of certain other very good doctors, and I had hope…Perhaps you would be willing to let him examine you?”

He expected a response, was braced for a negative reaction of some kind, but after a moment the wolf just sighed again. Schneeplestein gave up pretending that he was looking at the paperwork anymore and spun around in his chair to face the bed.

“Is somezhing wrong?”

After a delay, the wolf shook their head. Their ears pricked up at the sound of the chair wheels on the floor as the doctor rolled his way over to the bed and stopped a respectful distance away.

“It is just a suggestion, and you can say no if it is uncomfortable or no good. I know zhis man, he is very discreet, and he is coming by here soon anyways, I simply thought…” Schneeplestein sighed and admitted, “I can do zhe best I can, but I am limited in what I can do here as I am. I trust zhis other doctor very much, for vhatever zhat may be worth to you. Even if he is a bit, uh…vhat is zhe word? An over actor. Mellow somezhing. You know what I mean, probably.”

The wolf’s clouded eyes gave nothing away of the thoughts going on behind them, but eventually they eased into a sitting position and nodded, just once.

“Good,” Schneeplestein said, with real relief, especially as he heard his phone chirp behind him. The wolf’s ears perked up and he explained, “Zhat would be Dr. Iplier now. I will be just a second.”

The doctor left the room too fast to notice how the wolf suddenly grew rigid, their newly groomed fur standing up in a ridge all along their spine. Instead, he made he way through the darkened clinic and unlocked the door, where the man waiting outside wasted no time coming in and shrugging off the jacket worn over his white coat and tossing it on a nearby chair.

“Thank you for coming in early,” Schneeplestein said as he locked the door behind him, and the other doctor shrugged.

“Makes it easier to come by after my shift at the hospital, but it’s still weird seeing you up this early even without all the cloak and dagger stuff. Did you stay here all day?”

It was Schneeplestein’s turn to shrug. “I had enough to keep me busy, and I do not need zhe sleep every day.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dr. Iplier asked, in a way that suggested he really shouldn’t be. “You’ve still got a couple of hours, maybe you should give it a shot.”

“Sure, maybe,” Dr. Schneeplestein said, giving a side wave of his hand to dismiss the topic from the conversation and most likely from his mind in general. “More important, zhere is zhe patient I mentioned who is waiting.”

“The patient you’ve told me absolutely nothing about,” the other doctor pointed out as he followed him into the back. “The patient who was apparently important enough for a vampire to stay up all day to keep an eye on.”

“Zhe patient you are to tell no one about, if you are to come into zhis room,” Schneeplestein added as he stopped outside of the door in question. He turned an absolutely serious and borderline threatening stare on the other doctor as he said, “I need you to tell me zhis, now.”

“…You have my word, I won’t tell anyone,” Dr. Iplier answered. He placed a hand on Schneeplestein’s shoulder and added, “And honestly Henrik, whatever you have behind that door, I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Dr. Schneeplestein nodded and unlocked the door, at which point the other doctor promptly swore and pulled it shut again.

“Henrik. Please tell me you’ve just decided to go into animal rescue and that was just a normal gigantic wolf sitting in there.”

Dr. Schneeplestein ignored him and reopened the door, to once again reveal the large wolf standing on the bed, shoulders braced and head lowered. Like an animal poised and ready to attack.

“Zhis is zhe doctor I told you about, Dr. Iplier.”

Dr. Iplier could have sworn the wolf sniffed the air, searching for his scent, before they visibly relaxed and sat down on the bed. He tried to speak and cleared his throat before giving it a second attempt. “Er, hi. You’re, uh…”

He glanced at the other doctor, who added, “It is better if you do not know zheir name, I think. I am hoping you vill take a look at zhe patient’s eyes to start with?”

Dr. Iplier looked from Schneeplestein to the wolf and back again before sighing. “Yeah, sure, why not? You’re not a biter, are you, Patient?”

His face visibly paled when the wolf shook their head “no,” and he took a second or two to gather his courage before moving closer to the bed and the patient in question. Only to take one look at those clouded silver eyes and immediately forget himself, one hand under the wolf’s snout, the other holding a light up to the eyes as he examined both.

“Fascinating. I don’t think these are actually cataracts, but whatever is going on here seems to be completely blocking the light from getting through. You, uh, patient, can you look straight up for me? Now down?” As the doctor directed, the twitch of the small muscles around the wolf’s eyes were the only sign that they were following his directions. “It’s complete coverage, whatever it is. How long has this been impacting your vision?”

Dr. Iplier looked at the wolf, then after an awkward silence glanced over at Dr. Schneeplestein who gave a helpless shrug.

“We cannot be sure.”

Dr. Iplier opened his mouth to point out the obvious and then just exhaled instead, causing the wolf to pull back from him with their ears laid flat against their head. Great, the werewolf was criticizing the smell of his breath.

“Zhere is also burns under zhe fur,” Dr. Schneeplestein prompted, earning another stare of disbelief from the other doctor before he looked back at the wolf.

“Burns, right,” he muttered, then added for the benefit of the wolf, “May I…?”

They turned their head and he reluctantly pulled back the thick ruff of fur on the wolf’s neck until he caught sight of the skin underneath, the wolf’s ears flicking at the sound of his low whistle.

“Henrik, what happened here?” he asked.

“Long exposure to silver, we think,” Schneeplestein answered.

“Think,” Dr. Iplier repeated, his eyes meeting the silver stare of the werewolf sitting in front of him. “I guess that would explain the burns, I’ve read that even a touch of silver can leave this kind of mark, but the extent of it, plus the eyes…”

He shook his head, his own gaze roaming over the wolf, briefly pausing on the bandages around their paws only to fully stop on the chest, on the bare spot above a healed wound.

“Henrik, what about here?”

“Zhat would be from zhe gunshot wound, yes. I removed zhe silver bullet sometime last night.”

Dr. Iplier tried to keep his voice from cracking as he said, “Henrik, can I talk to you out in the hall?”

Schneeplestein looked from him to the wolf and said, “I am not sure what difference it would make—”

But Dr. Iplier was already pulling him out into the hallway, where he gently shut the door behind him before rounding on the vampire. “Henrik, I know I’ve asked this before, but are you insane?!”

“Seventeen times now, and zhe answer is still a solid ‘probably not.’”

“Then explain…literally any of this to me!” Dr. Iplier gestured frantically for a few seconds while he tried to think of where to start before asking, “You’re treating a patient who by all rights should be dead, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I am very aware.”

“A silver bullet, straight to the chest! Never mind a werewolf, that should have killed anyone! Henrik, it’s bad enough you have a werewolf hidden away in here, if the Institute catches wind that there’s one in the city who literally survived a silver bullet—”

“Still very aware, thank you,” Schneeplestein interrupted, his expression and tone of voice tense. “But zhat is not why I asked you here. Zheir eyesight, zhe burns, is zhere anything we can do for those?”

Dr. Iplier ran a hand through his hair, mind still racing as he answered, “I might know something you can use for the burns, but supposedly werewolves can heal from just about anything, even silver with enough time. So maybe their eyes will get better on their own? I don’t know, I’ve never treated one before! As far as anyone knows there hasn’t been a werewolf desperate enough to risk coming to this city in years. Where did this one come from, how did they get by the Institute’s hunters? Did one of them do this?”

Schneeplestein took a moment to consider his answer before saying, “Most likely not, no. Ve cannot be sure until zhey are ready to change back and talk to us.”

“That’s another thing, why are they still a wolf if it’s not a full moon tonight—” Dr. Iplier stopped himself short and pulled out his phone to check, only to give an exasperated sigh. “Oh, only two nights away. And you can’t keep them here for even that long, Henrik, no matter what shape they’re in.”

“Yes, keeping zhem locked in a small room is not good for zhe mental or physical health.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He pulled the other doctor a little further away from the door and continued under his breath, “As long as they’re here, you’re running the risk someone else will find them. Then it’s your neck on the line, and that line is already thin enough as it is.”

The doctor didn’t need to remind him that stepping one toe over that line could mean worse than just losing his license, with a wooden stake to the heart always an option.

“Zhere is a plan in zhe works, to get zhem out of zhe building and somewhere safe,” Schneeplestein reassured him. “Zhey will be gone by morning, if all goes well.”

“Really? Because I know of a couple of abandoned buildings out in the country where you could hide just about anything.”

“…Maybe ve do not have zhe same idea in mind here.”

The two doctors went back into the room, where the wolf had moved back to lying down. Dr. Iplier could almost see what Schneeplestein meant about being stuck in this room being bad for the werewolf’s mental health as he explained that he would write up a prescription and have some medicine ready to go along with the vampire’s regular delivery by the next morning, with zero signs from the wolf that they were even listening. Like they couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.

With that thought in mind, Dr. Iplier gave the werewolf an awkward goodbye and walked back out to the waiting area with Schneeplestein. There, he picked up his jacket and finally voiced what else had been bothering him.

“They were shot in the chest.”

“With zhe silver bullet, yes. We went over zhis,” Schneeplestein reminded him.

“But that’s wrong, a hunter would probably aim for the head or the body, right? Even if the werewolf was coming right at them the entry wound should have been higher, and the only way that angle makes any sense is if the werewolf had them pinned to the ground.” Dr. Iplier looked at the other doctor, whose expression confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. “Or if they were shot straight on, standing upright. As a human.”

Dr. Schneeplestein silently nodded and Dr. Iplier felt a chill settle in his own chest.

Because those two options meant he had either just agreed to help treat a potentially killer werewolf just a couple of nights before a full moon, or a victim that by all signs someone out there wanted dead.

((End of Part 5. Thank you for reading! I probably could have split this into two parts (and probably should have, considering we’re quickly catching up to what I have written so far), but I kind of want to keep with swapping back and forth between Abe and the DA with each part for as long as I can. Plus they felt kind of short on their own...and I just felt like it. XD

Link to Part 6: Clues in the Dust.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy))

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 31: The Nine Long Months

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2877

Warnings: Pregnancy, child birth, some angst, some fluff, cussing.

A/N: I feel like this kind of sucks, and I’m so sorry! I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block recently, but I hope that it’s not too bad for you guys. Also, the italicized words are flashbacks.

“Seriously?” Y/N groaned, dramatically throwing her head back onto the pillow behind her. “No food? No water?”

“Come on, N/N. It’s not too bad.” Tony failed to hide his grin. “You still have these delicious ice chips.” He shook around the tiny styrofoam cup that was filled to the brim, watching as the girl got more and more annoyed.

She rolled her eyes. “Mmm, delicious.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But it’s for serious reasons, and I know you that know that.” Dr. Madeline Bennett, one of the top OB-GYNs in America, spoke with an apologetic smile. “These next several hours are not going to be easy, but you’ve been preparing for this for the past nine months. As long as you cooperate, you’re going to do great, sweetie. ‘Kay?”

Y/N nodded her head, sheepishly placing her hands on her extremely large belly. “Okay. Thanks, Doc.” She watched as the other woman walked out of the room, letting out a heavy sigh once she knew that she was completely gone.

“Y’okay, kid?” Tony asked her, seeing the nervous look that was painted his friend’s face.

She dismissively shook her head in response, trying to break herself out of the nervous trance that had currently taken over her mind. “I’m fine.” The girl rubbed her hands up and down her midsection, wishing that it could be filled with something other than a baby. “Just hungry, that’s all.”

“Ewww!” Y/N groaned after taking a bite of the pancakes that Pepper had just made her. She made grabby hands towards the paper towel roll, a sour look completely taken over her face. “‘Gimme, ‘gimme.” Her articulation was horrible due to the massive clump of barely chewed food that was just sitting in her mouth.

Pepper frowned as she handed her friend a rectangle of the paper towel, watching as the younger girl spit the mushy piece of pancake right into it. “What’s wrong with them?”

Y/N took a long drink of her water, gurgling to get the taste completely out of her mouth. “You didn’t tell me you put banana in there!”

The strawberry blonde furrowed her eyebrows. “I didn’t think I had to. You love my banana chocolate chip pancakes.” She placed her hands on her hips, remembering something that happened way back. “Actually, you were the one who suggested putting the bananas in-in the first place! You said it would be a healthier option!”

The three months pregnant woman shoved her plate away from her. “Ya, well, I don’t like bananas anymore!”

“It’s true.” Tony agreed nonchalantly as he walked into the kitchen, taking a large bite of his apple. He walked up to Pepper, who he had recently got back together with after their brief ‘break’, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek after swallowing.

“They make her sick now.” Vision added from his seat at the kitchen table.

Rhodes nodded from right next to him. “Ya, she can’t even smell them.”

Pepper sighed, grabbing the basically full plate and beginning to dig in herself. “Well, if anyone has a manual to pregnant Y/N, that’d be greatly appreciated.”

“I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. send it over.” Tony replied, and no one could tell whether or not he was actually joking.

The girl in discussion just gave a small shrug Pepper’s way, taking another sip of her water. She then placed the glass down with a frown, noticing how nobody was moving to get her anything different. “So… do I just not get breakfast now?”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!” Y/N wailed. “Oh, god. Shit!” Her hands were clenched in fists, and her head was back and aimed towards the sky, silently asking whatever God or Gods were up there to help her out. As the large contraction finally began to calm down, the girl took a deep breath in hopes to relax herself. “Those things hurt like a bitch.”

“The little one’s just eager, that’s all.” Tony spoke from his chair right next to her bed.

Y/N quietly chuckled. “Never stops moving; just like-” She stopped herself from finishing her sentence, knowing that it would hurt too much to say the name of the man who broke her heart. “Never mind.”

Tony gave her a sympathetic nod. “I know, sweet pea.” He placed a hand on her forearm and gave her a comforting squeeze, not wanting her to be under anymore stress than she already was. “You and your little boy are fighters.”

“You ready for the big reveal?” Dr. Bennett asked with a smile as she walked into the small Avengers Compound office that had been set up for her appointments with Y/N.

The girl, who had wanted to keep this whole ordeal out of the press, had insisted on not going out for doctor’s visits.

“A bit nervous, if I’m being honest.” She responded.

“Why?” The older woman questioned. “You want a certain gender over the other?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nope, just... I don’t even know. I guess I’m always nervous for these things.”

“Well, there’s no need.” The doctor spoke while grabbing the jelly to rub on her midsection. “This is just going to be a little cold; you know from the last time.”

The five months pregnant woman winced as soon as the substance touched her belly, making Dr. Bennett chuckle.

After several seconds of scanning Y/N’s belly to get a good view, the doctor had finally figured out which sex it was. She turned to her patient with a smile. “You for sure want to know, right?”

“Yup.” Y/N responded shakily. “Tell me.”

“You’re having a boy!”

The girl let out the breath that she didn’t know she was holding, grateful to have at least one mystery now solved. “Oh my goodness, I’m so excited. How is it that you know?”

Dr. Bennett pointed to the screen. “Well, you see this little protruding thingy right here?”

“Hey, sweetie.” Pepper greeted as she walked inside of the small room, Rhodes trailing directly behind her. “How you doing?”

Y/N sighed. “Not too bad. Pretty uncomfortable, though.” She rubbed her hands up and down her large stomach, noticing that Rhodes was carrying a paper shopping bag. “What’s in there?”

“We, uh, went out and bought you a little something.” The man answered with a grin, before pulling a small brown teddy bear out of the bag. He watched as Y/N’s eyes lit up, her hands going over her mouth in awe.

“You guys!” She beamed as they placed the plush toy in her waiting hands, hugging it tight to her chest. “Thank you so much. You know how much I love stuffed animals.”

“Uhm… ya, N/N… it’s actually for the baby.” Rhodes said with a sheepish look.

Y/N’s face instantly dropped. “Oh, um… sorry. I didn’t know that.”

The man began to laugh at her reaction, realizing that his little joke probably wasn’t very funny to her right now. “No, no, I’m just messing with ‘ya! It’s for you, honey.”

The girl let out a heavy breath and shook her head at his antics.

“Ya,” Pepper added, “the baby couldn’t even play with that anyways. The plastic eyeballs are a choking hazard.”

Y/N’s eyebrows drew together. “They are? Well damn, I didn’t know that either.” Her bottom lip began to quiver, almost comically, as she squeezed the teddy bear tighter to her body. “I could’ve ch-choked my baby. I-I’m ’gonna be such a terrible mother!”

“Oh, boy.” Tony frowned, walking towards her to stroke her hair. “No you’re not, sweetheart.”

“N/N,” the other woman spoke kindly, “you’re going to be an amazing mother, and you are amazing with these kinds of things. I’ve seen it.”

“Oh goodness, all this stuff is so cute!” Y/N smiled while she and Pepper sat on the couch, scrolling through countless baby websites together. They had originally planned on going to the stores in person, but opted out because Y/N didn’t want to be seen pregnant in public. Who knew what the paparazzi would do if they caught sight of it?

“I know right.” Pepper agreed before flipping her laptop towards the other girl, pointing at two small blue objects on her screen. “Look at these little booties!”

“Aww!” Y/N giggled. “Those are so adorable.” She turned back towards her own computer, continuing to scroll through. “There’s a huge onesie selection on this one site. Like, they are all so nice, and they look like they’re good qual-”

Pepper looked towards her friend, wondering why she stopped mid-sentence, only to see a heavy frown painted on her face. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” When Y/N wouldn’t answer, Pepper decided to peer over her shoulder, slightly gasping at the sight in front of her. 

Right in the middle of Y/N’s laptop screen was a navy blue onesie, a big Captain America shield placed right on the front of it.

“Oh, honey-”

“It’s fine.” The seven months pregnant woman interrupted, discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Let’s just keep shopping. We’re not nearly done.” She technically was correct, as for obvious reasons they hadn’t done a baby shower. There was still a ton of things to purchase. “What about a breast pump?” She sniffled. “I need one of those, right?”

“When is this going to be over?” Y/N groaned, dramatically running her hands down her face. Or, at least any man would’ve said that she was being dramatic. Any woman would completely understand the pain that she was going through. “I’m sick and tired of this!” She glared down towards her protruding belly, pointing a stern finger at it. “I swear, when you get out here young man, you are in very big trouble!” She instantly felt a sharp pain come from her womb and gasped in response. “Wha-? Little guy just kicked me!” 

Rhodes tried to hide his chuckle with a fake cough. “I guess it’s payback for you yelling at him.”

“Ya.” Tony nodded along. “He clearly knows his mom’s voice by now. That’s a good thing.”

The girl shrugged. “I guess.” She began thinking back to all the long nights that she spent just speaking to him and him alone. “Still doesn’t make my cervix hurt any less, though.”

“Buddy,” Y/N sighed as she laid on her bed, rubbing her nine months pregnant belly, “you’ve ‘gotta calm down. It’s getting late, I want to sleep.”

She got a kick in response, much like the ones that she’d been getting for the past hour or so.

“Oh, I see how it is.” She lightly chuckled. “So stubborn, eh? Hmm… how can I get you to go to bed?” She racked her brain for any ideas that would work, before finally stumbling upon one. “How about I sing you a lullaby? Okay? ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’?”

An additional kick to the womb alerted her that he was probably okay with that.

The girl cleared her throat before beginning, ready to sing her little boy a song that she’d most likely be singing to him for the next several years.

“Come on, Y/N.” Dr. Bennett urged in a calm and collected tone from between her patient’s legs. “One more push, that’s all.”

“That’s all, N/N.” Tony repeated from his friend’s side, her hand squeezing the living daylights out of his own. “One more and he’s here.”

She gave them a strained nod before beginning that final push, her screams so loud that they could’ve probably been heard throughout the whole Compound.

Though, they were interrupted by a sudden high-pitched cry; one not of an adult, but of a newborn baby.

“I-Is that-?”

“Yes.” The doctor interrupted Y/N with a grin, slightly holding up the boy to show her what he looked like. “He’s here.”

A huge smile took over the girl’s face as she laid back on her bed, her muscles finally relaxing after many tedious hours.

Dr. Bennett cut the umbilical cord herself, knowing better than to ask Tony because he wasn’t the father, and wrapped the baby up before bringing him over to Y/N’s waiting arms.

“Hi, baby boy.” The mother cooed as she brought him close to her chest, taking in just how beautiful he was. “You’re finally here.” Tears began to mix with the sweat that was already coating her face, and she sniffled.

“He’s gorgeous.” Tony spoke from beside her, making her glance up to smile at him.

“Isn’t he?”

Y/N looked back down at her newborn son and began to lightly bounce him in her arms, causing the boy gurgle in response. “He’s so precious.”

“Do we have a name yet?” Dr. Bennett questioned the girl.

She nodded her head before making eye contact with Tony, getting ready to drop a huge metaphorical bomb on him. “The first name is Anthony, and the middle name is James.”

Stark’s heart felt like it stopped beating for a second. “W-What? You can’t be serious.”

Y/N nodded. “Well, I am.” She turned back towards the doctor, a big smile on her face. “That’s the name.”

“N/N-”

“Tony, I want this.” She interrupted him firmly. “You and Rhodey have been with me every step of the way through this pregnancy. This is my way of saying thank you, and that I love you guys.”

The man nodded, feeling tears spark into his eyes at her words. He definitely didn’t feel deserving, but if that’s what she wanted, he wasn’t going to argue.

“Is there a last name that you want me to put?” The doctor spoke again. “You can decide later if you want, that’s totally fine.“

“Rogers.” Y/N stated, her tone leaving no room for discussion. She knew that she was about to get heckled for it, but had already made up her mind many months prior.

“Are you sure about that, N/N?”

“Yes, Tony.” She gulped, stroking her son’s soft face. “I am.”

“So, I’ve been wondering…” Steve spoke as Y/N sat on his lap with her back faced towards him, the television in front of them playing a movie that neither one of them were actually watching.

“So, you’ve been wondering…?” The girl repeated playfully, turning around in his lap to face him.

The man took her left hand in his right one and began to toy with the large diamond ring on her finger. “We’ve been engaged for a few months now, and you still haven’t told me what your last name is going to be.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side in the way that Steve found so adorable.

“Like, you know, are you taking mine? Are you keeping yours? Are you hyphenating?” He listed off, very curious of what her answer was going to be. “I know that there’s a lot of new ways of doing things these days, and I know that with your fame you might want to keep your own. Whatever you do choose, though, it’s fine by me.“

The Captain’s words were followed with a loving kiss from his fiancée, which he immediately melted right into. His large hands firmly gripped Y/N’s hips as he groaned lowly into her mouth.

“Was that supposed to give me some sort of an answer?” He asked after their lips parted.

Y/N gave him a sweet smile. “I want to take yours.”

“Really?” Steve questioned.

“Yes.” She nodded, hands resting at the nape of his neck and massaging gently. “I want to be a Rogers. I always have.”

“And you’re absolutely sure about this, doll? Because from what I’ve read, most celebrities hyphenate or just keep their own.”

“I’m not them, though.” The girl stated. “Stevie, I’ve been scribbling ‘Y/N Rogers’ in my notebook since the night of our first date. I’m very sure about this.”

The mother and son sat in silence, her lightly stroking his little face with the pads of her fingers. She watched as he repeatedly opened and closed his eyes, crystal blue irises that were very much like his father’s melting her heart already.

Her family was currently on their flight in, ready to meet their newest member, and her friends from work we’re going to drive up right away. Y/N had politely asked Tony, Pepper, Rhodes, and Vision to step out of the room, as she had wanted a moment alone with her baby before all of the commotion. And for the first time in a very long time, Y/N had gotten the chance to just breathe.

She had been so worried, so incredibly nervous for the past nine months that she had almost forgot to actually enjoy the experience. So scared of her and her baby being alone, that she really forgot to cherish his company. But now, holding her precious little creation in her arms so lovingly, Y/N knew that she and her son were going to be okay.

“Ya, sweetheart.” She spoke softly to him, rocking him in her arms. “We’re going to just fine.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and let it linger, basking in the presence of the person who was now most important to her. “Just fine.”

Baby Anthony James Rogers murmured a couple incoherent sounds in response. He had not a single clue that he was missing out on meeting his father, the man who should’ve been sharing this very exact moment with them.

Next Chapter

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[imagining-supernatural]

Moments of Weakness

Part 4 of But It Burns

Summary: When you hit rock bottom, you have nowhere to go and end up on your former best friend’s doorstop, bruised, bloody, and broken. You aren’t expecting him and his girlfriend to take you in and try to patch up your shattered life, especially with the danger your presence puts them in.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2181

An entire fucking month. For an entire month, the doctor kept you on bedrest. For a whole thirty days, you treated Bucky and Natasha like shit. For a goddamn month, they kept their fake smiles and refused to kick you out.

But things changed the last week. And by things you really meant that you changed.

You didn’t treat them like shit anymore. It was obvious they weren’t going to kick you out. And they didn’t deserve any of this, but you didn’t have much of a choice. You were four months along in your pregnancy. That meant you had five more months until you were at full term. And until the doctor took you off of bedrest, you couldn’t really go anywhere. But as soon as he lifted your restriction, you were heading straight to Ecuador.

Until then, you might as well ease the burden Bucky and Natasha had on you.

So you stayed quiet.

You made polite small talk when you crossed paths in the kitchen, left your door open just enough to let a sense of goodwill settle over the apartment, and you made sure you kept your spaces clean.

The apartment was quiet.

But that just gave your thoughts room to grow.

The silence pulled out the memories you’d rather stay buried deep.

The knife in your hand. Blood all over. Tony’s lifeless, hazel eyes staring up at you.

You’d loved him. Maybe it was wrong. People would say it wasn’t real love. They would tell you that he’d manipulated you into believing it was love. But they were wrong. What you felt for him was real.

That didn’t mean you weren’t scared of him. And when it was just you, you could handle that fear. But suddenly there was a baby in the equation. You loved Tony, but you didn’t trust him.

The last person you’d ever trusted had been Bucky. The only person you ever trusted was Bucky.

“Yeah, one second. She’s just in her room.” his voice grew louder as he walked closer. There was a soft knock on the ajar door and he walked in, holding his cell phone out to you. “It’s Dr. Banner.”

“Thanks.” You couldn’t even meet his eyes when you took the phone. He started for the door before hesitating a moment, as if he was going to turn back to you. But then he continued onward and his footsteps faded as he went towards the kitchen.

Somehow, this new silence was worse than the arguments.

“Hey doc, what’s up?”

“Your stress levels, apparently,” he said. “Bedrest is supposed to help your body relax. You’re not relaxing, Y/N.”

“I’m doing everything right. By the book. Ask Bucky. I can’t eat any healthier or take it any easier.”

“Emotionally, though?”

“I’m fine.”

You’d answered too quickly. It didn’t take a professional to see through your lie.

“Y/N…”

“Why do I feel like you just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar?”

“I don’t know your history, Y/N. But you came to my operating table looking like a punching bag with a police escort. Normally I’m a little more tactful for this conversation, but you’re a straight shooter so I’m just going to put it out there.” He paused for a second and you tried to prepare yourself for whatever he was going to say. “I’d like for you to see a therapist.”

A short bark of laughter escaped. “Fuck no. I’ll do anything you say except for that, doc.”

“Why not?”

Some things are best left in the dark recesses of your brain. He wouldn’t accept that answer though. And you couldn’t come up with one on the spot, leaving yet another span of silence.

“Y/N, if you don’t go to therapy and try to work through some of your issues, you won’t be able to get those stress levels down and you’ll be on bedrest until you go into labor. I know how badly you want to get off bedrest. If you want it, this is your best shot.”

“What are the other options?”

“There are none.”

Great. “Well… I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask, I suppose. Other than that, your tests came back looking pretty good. Pretty steady with your last rounds of tests.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Y/N, I suggest you think very seriously about therapy. Stress isn’t good for the babies.”

“I know,” you whispered. And with that, you hung up the phone and let your head drop back against the wall, welcoming the sharp, brief moment of pain.

Five more months. Could you really handle five more months with Bucky and Natasha? Or should you just take your chances at sneaking out of the country and finish your bedrest in Ecuador?

With a sigh, you slid out of bed and padded into the kitchen where Bucky was on his laptop at the table. You slid him his phone and he grunted you a thanks as you went to the fridge. Pulling out a cheese stick, you paused, staring into the fridge. A fridge fully stocked by Natasha and Bucky.

You couldn’t go to Ecuador until your bedrest was over. Here, Bucky and Natasha were the only reason you were able to do as well as you were. If you were on your own in a foreign country, you’d have to buy your own food. You’d have to find your own source of income. You couldn’t lay around all day.

“Hey Buck?”

His head flew up at your voice. You hadn’t initiated a conversation in a week. “Yeah?”

“What’s the Mob doing? Any of Natasha’s contacts bring in anything good?”

You could tell he had no idea where you were going with this. It was in the set of his head, that slight tilt. The narrowed eyes. Tightening of the muscles of his cheeks. “Nothing really. A few small hits. Big shipment. Nothing ground-breaking.”

“Stefan’s smart. He’s probably flying under the radar right now. Cleaning up the Mob rankings. Making sure everyone is loyal to him, not-not Tony.”

Bucky just nodded absently, mind somewhere else. “Why now, Y/N? Why the sudden interest in—well, in anything?”

“The doc says I’m too stressed. Having a half billion-dollar price on my head isn’t really helping with that. And he really thinks therapy could help. Right.”

“Maybe it would.”

You scoffed at that. “Right. Let’s just dredge up all those memories that make up the shit-storm of Y/N’s life. That’ll help her de-stress. Great plan.”

“It really does help, you know.”

“You know this from experience?”

He nodded, shocking you. He’d gone to therapy? When? The question didn’t leave your lips though, and he sat forward with a different line of conversation. “It could help you understand everything. Why you do what you do. Like why you killed that first guy… how many years ago was it again?”

“Shit, you don’t give up, do you? I know why I do what I do. I don’t need to pay someone to tell me the technical terms for what kind of fucked up I am.”

“Then talk to me,” he offered. “I can’t tell you technical terms, but I’m pretty good at untangling people’s pasts. It’s kinda what I do.”

“You’re a private investigator, Bucky. You get paid to find out if someone is cheating on someone else.” The jab was received well, and he just half-smiled and pushed out the chair across the table with his foot. You eyed the chair for a moment before grabbing an apple and sitting down. It was the first time you’d sat at the table in over a week. This was the longest conversation you’d had with anyone.

“So, Y/N, have you been back to Joe’s Diner?”

“What?” You and Bucky used to go to Joe’s Diner all the time your freshman year of college. Midnight milkshake runs, greasy burgers for breakups, and pie to celebrate a good grade. It was your go-to place. And somewhere you hadn’t thought of in years.

“Joe’s. It’s still there, you know. I pass it at least once a week.”

“Of course, it’s still there. Best damn burgers in the city.” Your mouth was watering just thinking about it. “It would be a disgrace if it were to shut down.”

“Agreed. So? You been there lately?”

This normal conversation was throwing you off and you couldn’t find your voice, so you just shook your head.

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I’ll pick some up next time I’m out.”

“I don’t think that falls under Dr. Banner’s menu of acceptable pregnancy bedrest food.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Bucky said with a shrug. “One night can’t hurt.”

“You know,” you started hesitantly, heart beating way too fast. “Those were the exact words Shantelle used to get me to try cocaine the first time. One night can’t hurt.”

“Well, Shantelle’s a fucking idiot. I’m not. And I think we both could use one of Joe’s famous burgers.”

The fact that he didn’t react to your first real reveal of a piece of personal information somehow made it easier to relax back into your chair. “And one of this chocolate caramel milkshakes. I think that’s exactly what I need. Shit, now that you brought up Joe’s, I know that’s what I’ve been craving for the last two months.”

“Remember that time you dumped your milkshake on that jerk’s head because you got in that argument and he said that Emily Dickinson was obviously straight?” Bucky’s laughter prompted a few light chuckles from you. “Man, that was golden.”

“Don’t forget the best part! I made him buy me another milkshake. I can’t believe I actually got him to buy a milkshake.”

Bucky’s laughter grew louder as the memory took shape. “Shit, I forgot about that! And didn’t you also talk him into tipping Crystal twice what the milkshake cost?”

“That fucking moron deserved it.”

Your cheeks were starting to hurt, which was a sad testament to how little you’d smiled in the last few months. If less than five minutes of smiling and laughing could make your cheek muscles protest, what did that say about you?

“I should have made him clean up the milkshake too,” you mused, trying to push aside your negative thoughts for a moment. You wanted just one moment of happiness. A minute or two. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Apparently not, because when Natasha walked in half an hour later, you were still at the table with Bucky, reminiscing about better days.

“Hey, babe,” Bucky greeted with an easy smile. Your own smile fell slightly as your little bubble of comfortable happiness was popped, but you tried like hell not to let it show. You liked Natasha. You just didn’t know her as well as you knew Bucky.

“Hey yourself. How was your day? Both of you?”

She was surprised to see you out of your room, you could tell. But thankfully she didn’t let it show too much.

Bucky took the lead in the conversation. “Great. I closed one of my cases—the one with the Remus’s boy. And I made Y/N remember that time she tried square dancing—”

“Fucking shut up, Buck! You promised that would stay between us.”

He shot you a shit-eating grin, teasing you like nothing bad ever happened between the two of you. “You knew from the get-go that Natasha and I have no secrets. But I do promise that I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Fuck you,” you muttered, half laughing. “Not all of us can be as graceful as you are, Barnes.”

“It’s annoying, isn’t it?” Natasha asked. “We took a ballroom dancing class and he looked like he’d been doing it his whole life, but I kept stepping on everyone’s toes and tripping over nothing.”

“I think he sucks the gracefulness out of every else in the room and keeps it for himself,” you agreed.

“Whatever helps you two sleep at night,” Bucky said smugly, leaning back and locking his fingers behind his head.

With an eyeroll, you stood up. “Well, you enjoy that high horse you’re on. I’m going to go lay down for a while.”

Natasha excused herself before you could leave, but not before sharing one of those silent conversation looks with Bucky. Once she was gone, he grabbed your hand loosely, waiting until you looked down at him. Gone was the joviality in his eyes, replaced by a serious gleam. “Y/N? That thing with Shantelle and the cocaine? Was that when things started going downhill for you?”

Your voice was stuck in your throat and you had to swallow a few times and look away before you could answer. “I don’t know. Maybe? I… I don’t know. That might have been the first step off the path. But completely downhill? That came after.”

He nodded a few times before squeezing your hand. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

All you could do was lift your chin in acknowledgement, tug your hand from his, and head down the hall to your room.

NEXT: Truth Is A Double-Edged Sword coming soon

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[exotic-pets]

Top 10 Trending Exotic Pets

The most natural thing to think when someone tells you they have a pet is that they have a dog, a cat, a bird (canary, parrot or parakeet) or a little turtle. But what if someone tells you they have a black scorpion as a pet? The surprise is huge, whether it's an urge for attention or just want to learn more about an animal thousands of miles away from its natural environment. We want to make clear the necessity to buy legitimate animals in order to get their paperwork in hand in this article on exotic pets that are chic.

INFORMATIVE NOTICE:

It is not intended to support the illegal trafficking in exotic animals that we echo the exotic pets that are in demand. Nor does it accept the absence of these species' interests, but rather opposes the absence of awareness that human beings are done more and more often than not, treating actions as they fall before the empty eyes of those around them, without even asking what the consequences of their actions are.

TARANTULA

Tarantulas, that species of spider covered all over its body with hair, and larger than usual in size, have become very fashionable as exotic pets, but if there is one thing that should be clear to us, it is that they are not at all violent animals, as long as they are not disturbed or made to feel in danger. Although if there is one thing that should be obvious to us, it is that they are not aggressive animals at all as long as they are not bothered or forced to feel in danger. if this is your first preference, there are a few more docile tarantula types. If there is one thing that should be clear to humans, that is that they are not dangerous animals at all as long as they are not threatened or made to feel in danger And they have a simpler treatment system.

So you should be particular about the space where the tarantula will be since the terrarium is not the same as for a python for this type of animal as for a lizard. Although they could be in small locations, it is preferred that they be in large areas with many divisions where they can pass. And as for any of these species, you ought to have a doctor who specializes in these animals, not just to let you know about their treatment, but also about their medications and to chat about their actions.

GECKOS

This lizard was once considered to be malicious and was even able to scare away anybody who wanted to get close to it by spilling blood out of their eyes. The truth is that all this is more a story than anything else, because this little lizard does not bite, it is not dangerous and in fact it is beautiful, with a skin full of colors. In reality, depending on where they reside, they have a great capacity to produce various colors.

Although, don't you think it would be much more precious to see it in its natural habitat?

VIETNAMESE PIG

I have honestly had doubts about whether to include the Vietnamese pigs in this article because they are becoming less and less exotic, as seeing a person walking around on the street is no longer a rarity but has become normalplace. But, yeah, since we really don't see them as much as some more famous ones do, we're going to continue to see them as exotic. George Clooney, who was one of the first to have this animal as a companion, made it trendy. After introducing it to society, sales soared almost everywhere in the world and houses were filled with Vietnamese pigs. However, with the Vietnamese pig we want to make an appeal: Care of it before you give it away or buy it because it weights up to 50-100 kilos. Just as it became fashionable and sales skyrocketed, some time later, abandonment and calls to the protectors also became very common, because the little pig was very funny when it weighed 6 kilos but with 50 kilos it was not so funny anymore. George Clooney has everything you need to be able to raise these pigs, so whether you have a farm or a house with a wide garden, it will not be responsible to have him as a pet.

CLOWN FISH

Clownfish, from the family of Amphiprioninae, are easy to care for and do not require anything special for maintenance when working with saltwater species, any more than usual. They are very beautiful and showy fish, glad to share tanks with other species, including surgeons.

One characteristic of clownfish, besides their colors and their arrangement, is that clownfish are able to change sex as needed. But beware, 90% of clownfish come from catching in natural areas, it is a protected species. Because we kill many local people, we have to try to avoid buying.

ANTS

Having exotic spiders in the house can be very dangerous and even in some cases complicated. But there is a type of animal that is simple to maintain and that does not present risks, which is why they have become fashionable, the ants.

It is a smart idea to create an ant farm to get an exotic pet that doesn't need upkeep. The ants are clean, tidy and very easy to handle. We will get to know the organizational nature of an ant farm, how they work as a team and how their social relationships work.

WALLABIES

Wallabies are rare animals to see as pets. They are marsupials, just like kangaroos which look very similar, although with shorter legs and a much smaller size. They are very docile animals and get used to humans quickly especially if there is food involved. They are curious and very skillful, but for peace of mind, they still need their space.

SIKA

Sika is a type of deer with special characteristics: they are docile and easy to raise and maintain. The preferences of the Sika are restricted to having a large room in which they can run and breed in peace.

They are shy beasts, and they shed their shyness as soon as they reach humans. In the rutting season, they are not ferocious, although other deer in the rutting season may develop aggressiveness.

MOORISH GUINEA PIG

A beautiful and very sweet rodent, it is also known as tuco-tuco or Moorish Guinea pig. With a ball-shaped round body and almost no tail, it looks pretty much like a regular guinea pig, despite being much more suspicious. Without complications, it can reside in a terrarium or in a cage. It is a genus which is very docile. It may be one of the most sought-after pets and because of all its characteristics and the innocent look, ideal for being a domestic animal.

IGUANAS

The multiple types of iguana that exist have become one of the most popular exotic animals in recent years. Although within all the types it stands out the green iguana, which is probably the most natural pet within its family. They are attractive, omnivorous and fully docile creatures, even though their presence can make them seem hostile. Moreover, since they are very independent, they blend well into a house and have no trouble living with other persons. The iguanas are not going to come looking for you to scratch them or to feed them, though. They can sit on top of you because they like the heat you give off or eat from your hand if they're hungry, but usually they won't come near you. Never force the situation or bother to try to teach them to come when you call them, you will most likely waste your time.

LEMUR

On the Internet it has become tremendously popular, as its big eyes and how friendly they are has led to many videos being broadcast about them. More people live in Madagascar, and that's where they're supposed to be, don't you think? If you want to see a lemur up close, you can go to the zoo and if you want to see it in a natural setting, save up for a trip to these lands, but don't recommend accepting lemurs as a species. They have many peculiarities. They have multiple peculiarities, a male lemur is more docile than the female, something totally opposite to most other species.

SQUIRREL MONKEY

Although there is a tale of a monkey, this one seems to be tiny and manageable, and its lifetime is 20 years. The squirrel monkey has been in demand among the wild animal populations that some have at home, also known popularly as the "titi" monkey. It requires special care, to be educated from babies and as they have a veterinarian specializing in exotic animals. Unfortunately there are people who claim that a monkey in captivity is healthier than seeing him grow up in his own habitat and be raised in nature.

SUGAR SQUIRREL

This tiny marsupial is a hamster-like thing, but you have to be very careful of the kind of animal that escapes. As it is an animal that is very tender, it is also known as a petaur. He also needs to be with animals like him and if they live alone, they can suffer from depression or self-harm.>/

MANTIS SHRIMP

Strange mix between mantis and shrimp, which live approximately 3 to 4 years in captivity. How long do you think they'll be free to live?. It has become a trendy animal companion for people who want to house exotic animals. It has several properties and among them stands out the one that can move its eyes independently from each other, it can capture infrared and ultraviolet rays. It can also capture four types of linear polarization and two of circular polarization, so it can detect small and transparent animals for feeding.

PEREZOUS

Although it is a temptation to have one of these specimens given its beauty, we would suggest that sloths are at risk of extinction and animal traffickers trade in different parts of the world, so if you buy one, you not only add to their faster extinction.

BENGAL CAT

In general, the bengal cat is a very active and affectionate cat, but in order to enjoy a full life, let's not forget that it is a wild cat who needs his own world and his own. It doesn't have to be a kitten, it isn't a pet, it wants to be alive.

BLUE MACAW

It's a blue macaw that I love. Native to South America, the color is very amazing and after the animated movie Rio, it has become trendy as an exotic pet to have at home. It's a lovely and charming bird who usually loves a lot of company, and if you have one, you should really propose that we buy a partner so that it doesn't get sad. Don't you think it would be better to see it fly free, in its natural habitat and find its own partner?. The Hyacinth Macaw, also known as the Violet Macaw, is one of the largest macaws in the world. It is cobalt blue in color, with violet wingtips and a lower part. His tail is gray, while his jaw and eyes are light. Typically, although they're really noisy, they're a pretty quiet type of animal. It is also said that they are one of the most loving birds of all. It is very necessary that they closely observe their diet because it is very delicate.

KINKAJOU

It's an odd breed that Paris Hilton popularized, so it's worth noting that this little animal raced her to the hospital. They live between 23 and 40 years and although it may seem quite peaceful, the truth is that it is not advisable to have it at home, like everyone else, because it needs care and space to grow and live in a healthy way.

COATI

I always find it hard to see why we have a bad habit of wanting to tame wildlife, to humanize creatures, to take them too far from their instincts, their climate, their habitat, their living conditions. This is the case of the coati, with an elongated nose and colors reminiscent of the raccoon, it seems that there are also those who find it fun to have this little one as a pet. Know, it's a very restless, mischievous and dangerous beast as it will open the cabinets and make a mess of what you find, the description they send of it. Their diet is omnivorous.

CIVET

The civet is a nocturnal and carnivorous animal which is not known to have been accidentally or willingly introduced to Europe. There are many unknowns around it, since it was a pet that got wild, to the subsequent use of this animal as a pet to eliminate other animals that haunt the houses. Be that as it may, their habitat is the woods and they like to climb, they hunt alone and are easy to bite.

DESERT FOX

It is a cute animal and easy to domesticate, but it is absolutely unethical to keep it as a pet, as it is an endangered breed. Originally from Africa, a nocturnal animal typically builds a burrow to a depth of 10 meters (mostly found in the Sahara Desert and the Sinai Peninsula). From berries to rats, beetles, fish, etc., his diet is very diverse.

BATS

Sometimes we reach surrealism, it's true. Also bats, specifically the fruit bat, have become one of the most fashionable exotic pets. They are considered to be patient, docile and respectful creatures. It feeds on fruit and wants you to make it fly home, as its name suggests (length to the right to fly within four walls...).

[itsaviolathing]

2019 reflections

Wasn't sure where to put this so I'm gonna put it here because there are fewer people who know me in real life on Tumblr and this is kinda personal.

2019 has been a long year of ups and downs for me.

I started the year in a bad place, still getting over a really tough breakup from the guy who I thought was my soulmate.

January saw me rebound onto a guy I met on Tinder and resulted in a 2-month relationship which ultimately ended with me hurting the guy. On the bright side, I met some really kind and lovely new friends through Pat and I'm so grateful for their continuing friendship and support. January also continued to show me just how many friends I have and how much they care about me, which I had first realised just after the breakup in December. I will be forever grateful to those who saw me through such an emotionally difficult time and for their unwavering friendship. I would never have coped without them.

February saw my first instance of volunteering. I volunteered as an Events Manager with a charity called Action on Hearing Loss, and I had such a good time doing it. I put together a fundraiser for the charity, supported by the charity's fundraising manager for the North-West, which ended up being pretty successful and raised a fair amount of money. I was really proud of myself for this, and the whole process helped me become more confident in myself and gave me more direction for where my future is heading.

March saw me go back to the guy who I'd broken up with in the first place (bad idea, I know). It showed me that at that point I hadn't managed to get over him as much as I thought I had, and that I was willing to forgive him even after how much he hurt me. A few weeks later I broke up with him again, for good this time. I'd proven to myself that all the work I had put into getting over him had worked to an extent because I just couldn't love him anymore, even though I still cared about him immensely. This was ultimately a really beneficial experience for me as it gave me the closure that I so desperately needed from the relationship, as I hadn't been ready for the initial breakup and felt like a lot of things needed tying up.

April showed me that I was afraid to be alone. Since getting with Moray in November 2017, I had barely been single - we broke up in December 2018, I had rebounded onto Pat just under a month later, and got back with Moray a couple of days after breaking up with Pat. Even when I broke up with Moray again at the beginning of April, I already had someone else I was talking to which was heading in the direction of potential relationship. I realised that I only broke up with Moray when I felt like I had a somewhat-secure ship I could jump to (Sam), and I had been in the same situation when I broke up with Pat, knowing there was significant potential of getting back with Moray. This was a significant revelation for me and really made me evaluate my personal values and morals.

May was a really difficult month. Most difficult was dealing with Moray. After our break-up, his mental health spiralled and he quickly ended up in a dark place. He still trusted in me a lot, and knew that I cared for him too, and so I was on the receiving end of a number of phone calls whenever he was feeling suicidal. Some of these were daytime, others were overnight at all sorts of hours. By far the toughest was when he was actively going to do something and I talked him down over the phone while coordinating with his friends in his city to go and find him, and directed him to his local hospital for psychiatric help over the phone from a completely different city using Google Maps. Another especially difficult one was when I was woken at 4am and spent 2 hours talking him down and then messaging his mother in the morning to let her know the situation. Of course, I was happy to be there for him in his time of need but from a personal perspective it was incredibly draining and was detrimental to my academic work as well. I had to meet with my university academic advisor to talk about it because it was becoming difficult for me to manage alongside numerous academic deadlines I had in May. May saw me close myself off from people in my daily life because of these emotional struggles alongside having so much academic work to do, but I got through the month and ultimately did well in all my assessments and had managed to be there for a friend in need. May taught me that, while it can be good to be there for someone who needs support, it's so important to look after yourself first and foremost and that sometimes you're not the best person for the job. Moray managed to secure help from people whose job it is to provide that help, and he built up a local support network which reduced his need for me. I hope he will remain grateful for everything I did for him but I'm also glad that I'm not an integral part of his life anymore.

June saw me confirm what I want to do next with my life. I secured the role of Head Concert Manager for my university music society and June was the first time I was working in the role. I confirmed that I really enjoy working in Arts Management roles and I decided that this is the direction I want to take my life. I started to make plans for where I want to apply for Master’s courses and general plans for the next few years of my life, which has motivated me significantly and has provided something of a sense of security through the fact I have a plan now. 

July became another month of self-reflection and thinking about my morals. The guy I had been talking to, Sam, had invited me to stay over with him for a few days in his city. It was on this trip that I ended up being his first sexual experience, which wouldn't be a problem had he not been a no-sex-before-marriage Christian 😬 Even though I went to the effort of making sure it was absolutely his decision and trying to create a no-pressure atmosphere, I ended up feeling really bad about this because he regretted it happening. July also saw me think a lot about religion and whether it would be something I could get into but I eventually concluded that it's not something I can believe in and not something I feel compelled to get involved with.

August saw some of the best weeks of the year for me. Most significantly was the 10-days of being Social Staff with the National Children's Orchestra. This was definitely the best part of my year, and I had such a great time with new friends playing silly games and building new, strong bonds. I've found that I can't wait to be on NCO courses again next year and think of these people as some of my best friends, despite only spending a week with them.

September saw me and my tonsils part company, as they were finally removed. Recovery was rough but quick and I was back to myself quickly enough to be present as Peer Mentor coordinator on the first day of Fresher's week to register all ~80 of my department's fresher's. September also taught me that I need to be more trusting and less controlling, as my experiences as Head Concert Manager that month saw me finding it difficult to relinquish control to the Concert Managers, even though they were fully competent.

October saw me become properly single for the first time in almost 2 years. I ended things with Sam because we had fundamental disagreements and it was obvious the relationship was going nowhere, but we still remain good friends even now. Ending this was a little scary for me because I had lost the sense of security that a relationship brings, but this was made easier since the change had been gradual due to the nature of long-distance relationships. It had forced me to confront a lot of my inner feelings and thoughts on the matter and I ultimately learnt a lot about myself from this process.

November saw me become distant again due to academic work, after I spent 2 whole weeks avoiding social situations and spending time in the library as much as I could manage. Once again, this was ultimately successful because I did well in my coursework, but I did miss out on social situations as a result. November also saw me kinda fall for a guy in my department - that's a stronger wording than I really mean, I kinds just had a bit of a thing for him. It was the first time I'd had a crush in ages but I handled it well and confirmed I'm still fairly decent at flirting if I'm in the right situation 😅 November also saw me self-diagnose myself with potential dermatillomania, although I’m still not sure whether it’s just a bad habit or something medical and I’ve been too unsure to go to a doctor about it, but I think if it gets worse I’ll force myself to see someone.

December was another kinda difficult month. I had a couple of crises in which I found myself feeling like all my friends had people they preferred. For every friend of mine, I became aware that they had other people they would choose to spend time with over me, and that was a tough realisation. I think this came hand-in-hand with the whole being-single-for-the-first-time-in-2-years thing, because I had always been someone's 'favourite person' (in theory) while in a relationship and had always had someone there for me and looking out for me, and December saw me feeling like I'd lost that. December also saw me find out that the guy I had liked had actually liked me at the same time but nothing had ever managed to work out, which was a bit of a bummer.

Christmas and New Year's was spent with my family which is always a little difficult as we don't always get along so well, with New Year's being particularly difficult. I'm looking forward to going back to my uni city today (1st Jan 2020) and being with friends again and starting a new year afresh. My New Year's Resolutions/Improvements are to get fitter and healthier (through better diet and exercise) and to work hard on my academic work to do as best as I can in my final semester of my undergraduate degree.

2019 was a year of learning and personal growth. I learnt a lot about myself and spent a lot of time reflecting on myself, my values, and my morals, among other things. I came to terms with things that I had never really allowed myself to think about in the past, and I’ve ended the year feeling like I know myself a lot better than I did at the start of the year.  

2020 will be an eventful year and hopefully an exciting and rewarding one; I'm looking forward to finding out how everything plays out and hopefully have fun at the same time!

[oddfawnn]

New Diagnosis, New Me

I was an EMT for about 3 years. I started when I was 20. On my 21st birthday they put me on a truck for the first time. I was so scared. EMT school did not prepare me for the things I had to learn on that truck.

It took a good while, but I got pretty good at my job. I was so proud of it. I felt like I belonged to a family.

When I was a freshman in high school, I’d been diagnosed with depression. I’d been through many psychiatrists, counselors and medications when I started working as an EMT. I thought I was as stable as I could get. Looking back, I was never stable. I was on extremely high doses of various antidepressants, and they’d frequently get switched around because they just weren’t working. I had no idea how to compartmentalize or cope. I had no stable relationships aside from my mom and dad.

Obviously as an EMT I saw things no one should have to see. Some people deal with those things in a healthy way. I was not one of them. Somehow though, I thought I could do it. I though the therapy and medications would make it better. For a long time I thought I was handling it. I thought I was socializing but really I was just finding excuses to drink and do stupid things for laughs.

I started taking less pride in my work. I became bitter and cynical. I’ve always been an extremely empathetic person, and I considered this to be a strength as well as a flaw. I saw that empathy fading. The few friendships I had were not being nurtured in a healthy way and I think at some point I made decisions that sabotaged those relationships. The “family” I thought I belonged to as an EMT was not there for me when it mattered. I was not given the support I needed. In fact, the environment was so unhealthy and toxic. They (not everyone, but the majority) tore me down when I needed picked up. The gossip was worse than a hair salon and I’m ashamed to say I was a part of it all. By the time I was able to be honest with myself and acknowledge the damage that was being done to my mental health, I was diagnosed with PTSD. Seems extremely obvious now.

I continued counseling. I tried to work part time instead of full time. It didn’t change anything. I was still just as bitter and I dreaded work. I didn’t know what I wanted for my life anymore. I dropped in and out of various classes and changed my major a few times searching for the right direction. I was so, so lost.

Somewhere along the way I met my now husband. He was the only light in my life at that time. He was an EMT too and I could talk to him about things. He supported me even when what I was doing wasn’t logical. To this day I’m not sure why he stuck around during such a tumultuous time in my life.

After I quit EMS completely I had an identity crisis. Who was I if I’d always defined myself by what I did as a career? I started a job working with mentally ill people like me. I was supposed to be in recovery with my mental illness but my doctor at the time did not see that I was very much not ok.

I married my husband in 2017. About a month after our wedding, I hit an all time low. I was very afraid of where my head was. I was going to weekly therapy, taking my meds and seeing my doctor regularly. I was doing everything right, so why wasn’t I ok? I began to feel hopeless.

When I finally was able to see the only psychiatrist in my city that has consistently treated mental health in an effective way, it was the middle of 2018. My husband and I had a very rough start to our marriage, in large part due to my declining mental health. I had no friends. I couldn’t hold a job. My family was worried about me. Heck, I was worried about me.

My new doctor, (God bless him) discovered that for nearly 10 years, I’d been misdiagnosed. It was obvious as day to him at my first appointment. He said the large doses of antidepressants I’d been given were even making me worse. At the time of my appointment with him, I was taking a medication that made me throw up every morning unless I took it with Zofan, an anti emetic. He was very upset with my previous doctor because the medications weren’t even slightly working, so there was absolutely no need to make me so uncomfortable. Also, Zofran is not meant to be taken regularly like that.

I am Bipolar. Type 2, specifically. That means I have very low “lows” and mild, less frequent “highs.” But the antidepressants I’d been taking for 10 years had me tilting back and forth way too often. He took me off everything I was currently taking and put me on a low dose of a mood stabilizer with a very low dose of an antidepressant. Simple.

You guys...within a week I felt like a new human. So much so that my brain decided I could handle some of my more traumatic memories. It’s insane to me how our minds can file things away until we are at a point where we can handle those memories. For this, I was sent to a specialist that utilized EMDR therapy to help me process those traumatic memories. It helped so, so much. I’m no longer afraid to think about those things, even though they’re still painful. They no longer have control of my life.

Today, I still have bad days here and there but I know how to handle them. My marriage is so much healthier, though we’re still learning. Earlier this year, my parents and my husband and I found our chrch home. I am saved, and I know that even in my lowest lows God loves me so, so much. I’ll go more in depth on my spiritual journey in a later post.

I want to take the time and thank my husband for standing beside me when I so didn’t deserve it. He is so gracious with me. I also want to give a shoutout to my parents and my husbands family for not giving up on me or judging me when I was going through tough times. Love y’all so so much.

[redvelvetreel]

Red Velvet Reel 9.1: Blue Ain’t (Usually) My Color

             [Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Stretch feels terrible over that whole death-will debacle, and seeks solace from his brother and brother-in-law. He ends up with a little comfort and a lot of knowledge.

Characters: Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Monster pregnancy headcanons, including sympathetic pregnancy symptoms! Mood Swings! Coffee Shops! 

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note:  If I were a painter, I wouldn’t change you- just paint you bright. ‘Cause Blue looks good on the sky Looks good on that neon buzzin’ on the wall But darlin’ It don’t match your eyes -- "Blue Ain’t Your Color" by Keith Urban

Stretch had literally been outside the other day, but something about today seemed magical. The air was cool but not biting, not quite time to break out the terrible winter sweaters... but soon. The leaves were gold and red, most of them still attached to the tree-but the ones on the ground still crunched delightfully under his shoes. Too bad he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. Forcing down another sigh, Stretch made his way to the coffee shop across the street. Mt. Ebbot Coffee Co. Store # 6. He had never been to this one before, but store #4 had Austin the Barista who changed his hair color every other week. Maybe this store also had someone who would be willing to pour sprinkles in his coffee, too. Stretch smiled to himself, feeling a little bit better. Actually, a lot better! Sprinkles and coffee were a delicious combination! He was going to have delicious sprinkles coffee with his brother and his brother-in-law, and they were- He jumped when he heard tapping on the window, looking over his shoulder to find... Red. Face pressed against the glass, tongue lolling out of his mouth like a toddler. Was it on the window? Gross. Edge would have thrown a fit- The guilt started up immediately, and he felt bad again. Like really, really bad. Stretch did his best to smile at the baristas, but it felt half-hearted as he made his way to the corner booth. Red was already back in his seat, back flush against the wall with an unobstructed view of the entire establishment. Blue was sitting across from him like a more normal monster. Ugh, that was mean- less paranoid monster. “What’cha mad at, Honey?”

“Me. Myself. I.” He slid into the space next to Blue, leaning most of his body weight on his brother. Blue just held him tight, probably a little worried. Great. “I’m just a huge fuckup and I don’t know how to stop being bad at everything.”

“That’s not true!” Blue gave him a squeeze, only letting go to slide a big Frappuccino in front of him. It was absolutely covered in sprinkles. “You’re good at many things! Why don’t you have a drink-“

“Ya ‘n Edge fightin’ or somethin’?” Red got even more abrasive when he was genuinely concerned, and the table shook with the force of his punch. “The hell ya do this time, huh?!”

“Shut UP, Red!” Blue kicked the other skeleton under the table, “Maybe Edge did something to him!”

“I...” Where did he even start to answering these question? “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, pressing his cheekbone against the top of his brother’s head, “We’ve argued and fought before, but this feels different.” 

He tightened his hold around his brother, staring at the wood, “Like, really bad, really off different. It’s weird- I don’t like it, it’s not like we’re fighting-fighting but it’s not like we’re on stellar terms either. It’s maybe neither of our faults and both of our faults, but I’m not sure. I don’t know how to fix it. All I know is that I don’t want Edge walking on eggshells around me...”

“If it was Papy’s fault, why would Edge be cautious around him?” Blue asked Red pointedly, but in a moment he was back to being coddling, gently rubbing Stretch’s back in concerned affection, “What happened? Is that why he’s not here today?”

“No, and it was kinda my fault too. I overreacted. I left him at home because he was still sleeping.” He shrugged half-heartedly, “He’s been... really sleepy lately. I’m kinda worried-”

Red snorted like he was holding back a laugh, “Pancake’s a greedy bastard, huh? Like their Daddy.”

“It’s-” Yeah, ok, Soulings did need a lot of magic. “Fine, it’s probably a pregnancy thing, but we’re going to the doctor on Thursday, just in case.” He held up a hand, “Anyway, that’s not the point- I left him a note on the dresser, and then I realized I forgot my reward card. But I guess by that time Edge though I left, ‘cause then I could hear him talking with someone on speaker. It was Comic. He was... asking him for advice about missing home...”

“Oh.” Blue patted his back consolingly, sympathizing politely even if it was clear he didn’t quite understand the issue. “I’m sorry, Papy. Sometimes it’s good for monsters to vent to a neutral third party, though. It’s better than bottling it up, right? Maybe Edge didn’t want to talk to you about it because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Yeah...” Blue made some good points and it sounded reasonable enough. Edge was probably being conscientious, but... “But he’s supposed to talk to me about these things, isn’t he? Am I a bad husband, if he doesn’t feel like he can talk with me freely or directly? Can he not trust me?” Stretch lowered his voice, soul feeling unbearably heavy, “Does that mean he’s unhappy here? Unhappy with me? If he misses Underfell, doesn’t that mean he wants to go back? What if-“

“S’fine.” Red had little patience for tact or diplomacy, rough and painfully dismissive. “Wouldn’t a done speaker if he ain’t wantcha to hear. S’reassurin’ ya he’s dealin’ with that saudade bullshit. S’always been heart over brains for ‘im. He’ll get over it.“

“But-“ Stretch frowned, feeling less reassured, “That’s not-“

“Don’t’cha worry, Honey bunch. I’ll straightin’ yer hubby out.” Red cracked his knuckles in an obvious show of bravado, smile sharp and confident, “S’gotten too touchy-feely, but ain’t nothin’ a nice lil’ chat can’t fix.“

“I don’t want that!” Stretch wasn’t sure how he felt about Red’s flippancy- relieved his worst fears were being disproved, or annoyed Edge’s feelings were being dismissed? “I don’t want Edge to be secretly miserable! I want him to be happy! Not just pretend to be happy for my sake-“

The corners of his eye sockets burned unpleasantly, and he rubbed at them irritably, “I never meant to force him to come here- I would have been just as happy to stay with him in Underfell! But he-“ His voice hitched miserably, shoulders shaking as his brother held him. “I don’t want him to hate me! I didn’t mean to ruin his life!”

“The hell’s wrong with ya?!” Red was wide-eyed, hands hovering nervously like he wanted to slap or shake Stretch. “The fuck ya talkin’ about?! Why the fuck ya bawlin’?!” 

“Papy.” Stretch couldn’t even shrug before Blue was pulling him closer, tucking his face against his chest like he was in stripes again. It should have been embarrassing, but it was actually incredibly soothing. “Edge doesn’t hate you, and he doesn’t think you ruined his life. It just seems like it because the parentMOOD is amplifying your anxiety.”

Stretch felt disoriented and confused, blinking at his brother blearily, “Huh?”

“I’m not saying your feelings aren’t real or anything- I just want you to know that it’s Pancake making everything seem more intense and extreme.” Blue’s tone was calm and patient, and although he let Stretch pull away, he kept a supportive hand on his back.

“This?” Stretch patted at his cheeks, surprised to find them just a little damp. He had forgotten to be upset, too focused on Blue’s comfort and being confused. “This is my parentMOOD starting? I’m not just being unnaturally overdramatic?”

“You’re being naturally sensitive!” All expecting parents go through this, so there’s no reason to be ashamed.

“The fuck ya about, huh?!” Red looked agitated and unsure, “Brat ain’t even here-  they ain’t even born!”  He clutched the table hard enough his claws dug into the plastic guard, nervous in a way Stretch wasn’t used to seeing, “Ya been cursed or somethin’?! Is Edge?!”

“No! No, we’re fine- I’m just, uh, it’s a sympathetic pregnancy symptom,” Stretch cleared his throat, looking away from that strangely vulnerable expression. He had to force down the sudden urge to comfort Red, since he was sure his brother-in-law would probably bite him if he tried. Biology was so weird. “Monster babies are made from pieces of both their parents souls, right?”

Red finally nodded, hesitantly, 

“Since monsters are their souls, and Pancake’s claimed a piece of mine, then it makes sense I get zapped by some side effects, too.” He tried very very hard to keep his tone even, to not give into the urge to start babying his brother-in-law, “Can’t have one parent shouldering the whole thing, right?”

“Fine, fine, no curse-“ Red moved his hand impatiently, still restless and annoyed, “So? What’s a fuckin’ parentMOOD?”

“It’s what monsters call these extreme mood swings.” Blue sighed, leaning on the table, “Basically, the non-pregnant partner becomes super emotional and reacts disproportionately to every little thing. Like, they’ll cry if they’re sad over a movie, or smother you if they’re worried about you. It’s not always as pronounced as Pa- uh, Stretch’s case, something about physiology.”

Stretch knew Blue was talking generally, but that criticism still stung. Was he being overly emotional? Blue just told him it was fine! Besides, it didn’t feel like he was disproportionately reacting to anything- and he certainly wasn’t smothering.

“It’s biological,” Stretch muttered sulkily, crossing his arms over his chest as he sank down, “Sympathetic and empathetic partners mean better care for the pregnant parent! Better care for the pregnant parent means a healthier, happier Souling- so I am being a good Dad!”

“Of course you are, Papy! You’re going to be a great Papa!” Blue patted his brother’s arm indulgently, giving Red a meaningful look from across the table, “You should finish your coffee before it gets too cool.”

“Oh! Right!” Stretch took a cautious sip, but it was lukewarm at best. Ah well. Still delicious! 

“So...” Red rubbed at his face aggressively, speaking slowly, “Back up. Yer mood swings’ makin’ ya scared Edge’s gonna leave ya fer Underfell? Ok. So… why ya tellin’ us? Whatcha want us to do ‘bout it, Honey?”

“Obviously a little R&R- Reassurance and Relief!” Blue looked proud, although Stretch hadn’t actually thought about it that way, “You want me to comfort you, and Red to tell you what Edge is probably planning and thinking, right?”

“Ye-“ Stretch started to say, before stopping himself and frowning, “No? I don’t know? But that sounds really nice.” He turned his most pathetic, helpless pleading expression to his brother-in-law, “Pretty, pretty please?”

“Look.” Red grit through his teeth, holding his hands out on the table stiffly. Stretch recognized that gesture as Underfellese for ‘all cards on the table with nothing up my sleeve.’

“I ain’t know everythin’ in Edge’s empty-ass skull, ‘n he’s real fuckin’ shunsho sometimes,” Red sighed irritably, glaring at Stretch like he was personally responsible for that, “But he fuckin’ sucks at keepin’ his feelin’s quiet. He’ll do shit he ain’t wanna do if he gotta, but he bitches ‘n moans ‘n acts up the whole. Goddamn. Time.”

Stretch smiled at that, rubbing his wedding band fondly. He wouldn’t have put it in those terms, but yeah. Red was right.

“Ya think Edge’d be here if he didn’t want to? Ya think I’d be here if he wasn’t serious ‘bout him wanna being here?” Red wrenched his hands back to grab Stretch by the front of his hoodie, giving him a shake so hard something rattled loudly. Guilt didn’t have a chance to settle before he was being shaken like a maraca again. “Ain’t no goin’ back to Underfell, anyway! Fuckin’ told ya: Edge’s yer problem now, ‘n ain’t no takebacks!“

“But is he happy?” Stretch could read between the lines, but implication was different from confirmation.  “How do you know-“

“Ya real so goddamn shunsho!” Red started cursing unintelligibly, “Why ya askin’ that, huh?” Stretch didn’t have time to answer before Red gave him another hard shake. “‘Course he’s happy! Dumbass!”

Red shoved him backwards, and it was only Blue’s quick reaction time that kept his skull from smacking into the wood. 

“Even in Underfell y’ain’t gonna get no Soulin’ without love in yer heart fer yer partner!” There was an unusually friendly quality to that sharp smile. A lot like a shark might look at a fish it was about to eat. “If yer hubby’s outta sorts, s’cause yer freakin’ him out.” 

[ Part 1 - Here! ] [ Part 2 ]  [ Part 3 ]

[mothergwendoline-blog]

My Kind of Healthy – Entry 1

Disclaimer: This is a staggeringly homo blog and I will not be offering definitions for the terms used because it would turn my journal entries into a dictionary. If you are unfamiliar with a term you will be able to find a definition online.

This blog contains discussion of suicide and depression. If this makes you feel unsafe, please leave.

 Fat Hides No Sins

 So I turned into a fat bitch. It happened so quickly. I used to be skinny, I used to be underweight but then depression hit me full force. A little background, I’m transgender and I went for full Facial Feminization Surgery in another country. Now, good people in the global trans community will often tell you not to pin all your hopes and dreams on surgery. Especially if you already have a mental illness, it is incredibly dangerous to your mental stability to hold expectations that things will radically improve. Things may get considerably better, they may get worse, or they may not get better at all. For me, it was the latter. As much as I tried not to hope, I had dreams that my ability to “pass” for female would miraculously improve, but they didn’t. Even in the good months after my recovery I would still be misgendered half of the time, about at the same rate as before my surgery to fix my face.

 There are a few reasons this may be the case, most significantly is that I am quite tall, flat chested and have a naturally deep voice. Even with the benefits of a natural looking feminine face, I was still mistaken for a man with considerable regularity. People noticed my femininity and assumed I was a gay man, a common phenomena for trans women. This was heartbreaking for me. Some trans folks are happy and content with not passing. You have your Alok Vaid-Menon’s and your Jacob Tobia’s, wonderful nonbinary folk who find meaning and identity in looking visibly trans. And there are even binary trans people who are content with not passing. I am not one of them, unfortunately. I wish I were but then again, the grass is always greener. But for whatever reason I am born with the condition of being trans, I am also saddled with the need to pass. I’m your stereotyped-to-shit, run of the mill, boring old binary trans woman replete with body dysphoria. I’m just a regular girl who wants to be seen as such, although unfortunately I have trans obstacles in my way. And for me, they are obstacles. There have been people who have encouraged me to embrace my obvious transness but for me it is not so simple. I don’t just want to pass, I need it to live my authentic and true self.

 Now, instead of doing the clever thing and seeing my FFS as one stepping stone in the much larger pursuit of transition happiness, I stopped caring about my body altogether. I drank heavily and regularly, took up vaping and most of all, I binge ate my way to obesity. Now I am severely overweight. My doctor has started to worry for my health, and so have I. A lot of my fat friends talk to me about internalized fatphobia, the societal shame we inherit about our fat bodies. They tell me I have this fatphobia materialized in my desire to be skinny again. After all, as they tell me, there is nothing wrong with being fat. And yes there is truth to this, there is nothing inherently immoral about anyone’s body, be you fat, skinny, average or uncommon weight. I believe this. However, fatness brings with it a form of androgyny. As I’ve gotten fatter I have been more consistently misgendered and this is something I need to remedy with fitness, exercise and weight loss. I have been told that “fat can hide a lot of sins for trans women” through providing us with bigger hips, breasts etc. Well this may be true for some trans women but not for me. Even though I have been on hormones for the better part of a decade, I still carry fat like a man. Huge stomach and arms, less added comfort for my hips, butt and breasts. So weight loss is a must for me. As far as I see it, losing fat to get back to my normal weight is as essential as going for breast augmentation and genital reconstructive surgery.

 So like too many fat bitches I’m making a blog. The key difference between me and most of my fat friends is, unlike them, I actually see fat as a bad problem and wish to remedy this. Obesity is unhealthy. Fatness is a lifestyle choice for some, sure, but not for me. My fatness is a symptom of my depression, and it is putting my wellbeing, physical and mental at serious risk. This blog is my place to post updates about my transition, specifically my journey to a fitter and healthier body. My goals are simple; I want to pass, I want to be fit and I want mental stability. I used to be skinny and fit and I’ll become that way again through hard, steady, constant work. And I can pass too, by paying the same attention to my overall physical wellbeing as I place on exercise and diet. As for mental health, I have depression, anxiety and psychosis; but through consistent medication and therapy I will manage my mental disorders and live a meaningful quality of life. Eventually my hope is to return to the sex industry as an escort. I miss escorting, it was good money and worked well with my life as a writer, allowing me to pick and choose my own hours around my creative work. But the sex industry is stuck in the 90s and you can’t make work as a fat tranny. Sure, there are some curvy cis women who make money in strip clubs or as escorts but they are an exception. I want to be skinny, to get fit and fuckable, I want to buy a pair of banging tits and have a flat stomach. And I want to make men pay to suck my tiny dick before I get rid of that too.

 I exercise six days a week, a mixture of cardio and weight training. I use the elliptical and cycle machines, and rotate my weights from day to day using a mixture of squats, leg press, reverse sit-ups and rows. This will likely change as I get fitter, but for now my main goal is to start building back the fitness I’ve lost. I also use time restricted eating, consuming food only between 11:00 am and 07:00 pm. And the food I eat is different now. No more junk food. No fast food, only dark chocolate (none of the fattier delicious milk chocolate), no candy or soda pop and all vegetarian. And no alcohol. I binge drank and ate my way to this obesity and I am now paying the price.

 My starting weight is 377.43 pounds

My original weight goal is 202.82 pounds

I have had FFS

My surgery goals are BA and GRS

 So join me, if you like, on my journey to a better trans self. The planet is hurtling at an alarming rate towards a climate change induced apocalypse. Most people my age (I am in my late twenties) cannot expect to live to an old age. As the planet dies, so too will human civilization crumble. This journal is as much a saga of my transition and fitness as it is a memoir of my final years on Earth. My plan is, once I have reached my original weight, obtained my surgeries and conquered my mental demons, to revel in my new body, enjoy the pleasures of youth and then end my life on the footsteps of our government who has so callously rejected the cry of nature in her death throes. I cannot yet say when my suicide will be, for I do not intend to be stopped, but I will make it known as the date draws closer. I have no desire to grow old and watch the end of the humanity I so love, rather I shall terminate my life at my peak and pass on with happy sentiments and an existence well spent.

 I encourage anyone reading this to consider the same. As society falls I fear we will see humans grow cruel and turn against each other. Ideally the poor will rise up and viciously devour the rich who have neglected us, but of this I cannot be certain. What I believe is that Suicide Hysteria will sweep the globe. We see it kindling in the memes of youth, gallows humor making light of suicide and depression. The next step is action. When we common people become fully aware that all is lost there will be nothing to lose. I suggested Suicide Carnivals, maddening, beautiful, loving revelry dancing the dance of death together. Direct your violence and hatred to those in power who mock and neglect us. To each other, show unconditional love and bask in the beauty of death as one people. Would you rather endure historically unprecedented suffering as the planet burns us alive, fresh water shortages, crop failure, sea level rise, war for arable land, poverty, famine and death? Or would you rather live gloriously, peacefully and embrace the end before the storm? With the global rise of right wing extremist hatred, it is certain those in power have abandoned us. Many of the masses are either too ignorant, stupid or cruel to realize the peril we face. Use what power you have to convert those around you to recognize the immediate danger threatening all life on Earth. And if this results in you joining me in suicide, so be it.

 Mother Gwendoline