#i have named her jerry and we are both studying physics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hanadolphieron · 4 years ago

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lunar artist!yeojin; chapter one~

warnings; none

genre; sci-fi, strangers to lovers, fluff, slight angst

pairing; im yeojin x gender neutral!reader

word count; 1.4k

summary; your small crater town on the moon was rarely visited. one day, artist!yeojin travels all the way from mars to paint the serene, wistful scenery of your planet.

staring out into the sparkling abyss beneath you is a favorite past-time of yours. something about floating a few inches above the dusty, grey surface of the moon and looking out at the endless glittering fireballs surrounding all that you can see appeals to the deep lunar being inside you.

sometimes it even feels as if you were born here.

your family was from neptune, a planet known for its imaginative artists with striking, green eyes that see more colors than any other species.

after you finished your first section of schooling, you moved to your current planet, the moon, as fast as possible. the dreary serenity of the planet had always piqued your interest. it was perfect for a budding writer like you.

and normally, you don’t find yourself regretting the decision to move.

but today is different. the small crater you call home is far-off from the large civilizations. upon your first meeting with the small floating cottage, you felt more inspired than you ever had before! the place seemed full of life, even in the gloomy atmosphere of the moon.

now, instead of new ideas and an enhanced imagination, you are left with exasperation at the bleak nothingness surrounding you.

however, apparently it was time for a change.

you felt the air and gravity messing around behind you. after four years on the moon, you knew what this meant- someone was coming.

glancing behind you, you saw arguably the most beautiful being you had ever laid your eyes upon.

her auburn hair was choppy, and bangs laid haphazardly across her face, like she’d just been caught up in a gust of wind. with a shake of her head to maneuver her hair back into place, you caught sight of a sigil painted across her forehead. the red symbol was a circle, with an arrow coming out of it, pointing north-east.

you recognized this emblem as a representation of mars. surprising, considering the tension between the moon and mars. history hadn’t been the nicest to the two of your planets, and there was always a struggle for food and wealth, which had caused your civilizations to prey on each other for as many resources as possible, in order to prosper off each other’s loss.

the girl continued towards you. her dark eyes surrounded by shimmering, golden glitter that was now visible enchanted you as she gradually got closer.

you stared back.

she wasn’t the tallest, most marsians weren’t, but her presence was overwhelming. it felt like a red storm was flying towards you, leaving stormy chaos in its wake.

once the girl was a few feet away form you, slightly hovering above ground, she asked, “can i paint you?”

finally noticing the art set filled with a fluorescent silver palette, you realized who she was- a marsian artist.

artists were scarce in the marsian society, most citizens pursued a career in mining or as warriors, but a few yahoos broke away and followed other paths.

“why?” you ask.

“i came here to illustrate the people of this planet, but it seems its almost completely barren. you’re the first being i’ve seen.”

she sits down, not waiting for an answer from you.

you’re a little awkward at this point. aggressive behavior isn’t a something you’re used to, and it throws you off guard. rolling your shoulders back a bit, you shift around, wondering how she’s going to paint you.

“what’s your name?” the girl says, almost accusingly. man, these marsians have a jarring way of speaking.

“y/n. you?” your softer, serene voice floats toward her.

“yeojin,” she says, slamming her painting utensils onto the ground. they hover a few inches above the surface, like all other things.

her upper lip pulls up and she growls at it.

weird, you think, and giggle.

“what do you do here? as a job.”

“i’m a journalist.”

“as you can see, i’m unemployed,” comes her response, and she grins at you.

your lips set into an easy half-smile, “wish this planet had more people, seems as if the war never ended. it’s been a century and we’re still suffering from a lack of people. this town used to be the hype-house of the lunar system, everyone wanted to live here, sphere-home prices were sky-rocketing, trade with the other galaxies was better than it ever was before, and now,” you gesture around to the nothingness, “it’s all gone.”

she stares. what is up with these marsians? no sense of social cues.

“hmm. this whole galaxy is in ruins. back home, we must be behind a decade in technology. power goes out frequently. food stores are running out. the government is eating up our money. we don’t know where it goes.”

you sigh, looking out at the stars.

“sounds like we’re both the only sane ones in this insane world”

“yeah,” yeojin nods, dipping her brush into a can of snowflakey gray paint.

you don’t notice her starting to paint. as you wrap your arms around your legs and tuck your knees into your chest, a lunar frog hops by. you call it over. it flops over to you, its speckled coat shining and reflecting the light given off by the distant sun, and sniffs at your outstretched finger.

“hi jerry,” you say, giving the amphibian a lazy smile.

“is that its name?” yeojin says, sounding surprised.

“no, i just like to name animals, you know? gives them more meaning- i feel like we don’t appreciate the little things in life enough, always rushing about, never stopping and smelling the flowers.”

“you live in a planet without oxygen. flowers don’t exist here” comes yeojin’s deadpan response.

“good point,” you say, giggling a bit. normally you’re not as smiley as this; your face is always stagnant, deep-set eyes staring blankly at the world. must be the social interaction that you’ve been craving for so long.

the frog licks your pinkie, making you shriek in happiness and fright at the same time. the frog is terrified by your loud exclamation, and bounds away as fast as possible.

“dang,” you say.

you look over at yeojin. she’s studying you intently. “i didn’t know lunar beings like you cursed.”

“dang is not a curse you eggshell,” you say lightheartedly, reaching out to smack her on the shoulder.

her tough skin doesn’t even move, and yeojin laughs at you. she puts her paintbrush down and tackles you. not used to physical contact this early, (you haven’t even learned 80% of her weaknesses yet! that’s a crime lunar society!) you try to flail around, but she has you pinned to the ground.

you have no idea how she defeated gravity like that, by pure force you guess, i mean the ground probably didn’t even bat an eye with how confidently she hovered over you.

you gain control of your limbs again after freezing for a hot second, and shove at her shoulders.

she doesn’t budge. these marsians live up to their prstince, atheltic reputation.

laughing, yeojin lets you up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. you’re surprised again, and stumble forward into her chest.

gasping at the utter clicheness of this whole moment, you pull away and unfold into a standing position (which is like seven feet tall, neptunians are known to be massive.)

you realize that when upright, you stand a good two feet taller than yeojin, and now feel incredibly gangly. she glares up at you.

“sit down and stop being so tall,” she says grumpily, reaching down to pack up her stuff.

you do as she says and plop onto the surface-air.

seeing her putting all her supplies up, now seemingly in a hurry, you inquire, “where are you going?”

“i’m set to be back home around 17:33. right now it’s 17:30,” yeojin says, deflty throwing all her paints into a case. (you wonder how she’s not breaking them with how aggressive she is.)

“how are you going to get back so fast?” you ask her, curious and surprised beyond belief.

“you’ll see,” yeojin says, walking away at a fast pace.

“wait!” you yell after her, not wanting to lose her after such a short time together.

she keeps walking.

you get up, rushing after her. somehow, her stubby legs move faster than your massive ones, and she stays in front of you.

she turns around, staring at you, stormy eyed. fear graces her pupils,

“catch you later. i’ll be back soon,” yeojin says through gritted teeth. she doesn’t seem offended by anything you said or did, and disappointment in, herself? is written all over her face. you have no clue why she’s leaving, and neptunians are supposed to be good at this intuition stuff!

“wa- don’t go yet!” you exclaim, panicking at this point.

a cloud of dust envelops her, and she disappears.

masterlist - next

#femifics #loona astrology #loona imagines #loona fluff #loona angst #loona x reader #loona reactions #loona scenarios #loona #im yeojin

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anneshirleycuffbert · 5 years ago

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the space between the letters: Jerry Baynard moves into Green Gables ft. unexpected mail (awae fic)

“This is... mine?”

The unbelief in Jerry Baynard’s trembling voice echoed through the room in which the Cuthberts were saying belonged to him now.

It wasn’t Anne’s room, of course. No one, however close to the Cuthberts, would be able to fill the physical and emotional void that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert opened when she left for Queen’s College.

Marilla would visit Anne’s gable on the particularly hard days. She’d make sure that no dust was collecting on the dresser, on the sentimental objects Anne had adopted throughout the years. On the days when her longing for Anne and the laughter and stories she’d bring to the kitchen table made it difficult to complete basic tasks, Marilla would tiptoe into Anne’s room and lie on the bed for a few minutes, inhaling the fading scent of her daughter in the sheets.

“Yes,” Matthew smiled shyly, glancing quickly at Marilla. “It’s all yours.”

Marilla said nothing, but she felt joy that they could provide something good for the boy who had eased so much burden from her family, most especially her younger but aging brother.

“I– this bed– it’s mine?” Jerry ran his hand over the soft cotton sheet that lay perfectly uniform on top of the mattress with a feather touch, afraid someone would wake him up from this wonderful dream.

“Yes. This room and everything in it, is yours. It’s the least we can give you, after asking you to live away from your family to help take good care of the farm,” said Matthew.

To help take care of us, Marilla thought.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jerry spoke with tears in his eyes, finally allowing himself to believe it. “I’ve never had a room to myself before. Thank you, Miss Cuthbert, Mister Cuthbert. Merci beaucoup.”

The Cuthberts were a blessing to him and his family. He was but a child when they had hired him to work on the farm, yet Matthew had trusted him like any other capable hard worker and trained him in the ways of farming. His first wage was spent covering overdue expenses his parents had accumulated since moving to the Acadian camp. Since then, his parents found good work and with their salaries combined, they made enough to support their large family, and then some. Jerry Baynard sought to repay the Cuthberts for how they’ve bettered his family in ways they’d never fully know.

“Well,” Marilla managed to choke out. “Don’t go thinking now that this room is yours that it is yours to neglect. I expect you to keep order in here, understand?” She meant to sound strict, to hide the tide of emotion threatening to bubble out of her chest, but the smile on Jerry’s face caused her voice to catch. “And I expect you to make your bed soon as you wake in the mornings.”

“Yes, of course, Miss Cuthbert. But I’ve never had a bed before, so I don’t know the proper way to make it after I sleep. Will you teach me?”

“I will. But pay no mind to it now, seeing as it is your first night at Green Gables, after all. Once you get situated and finish unpacking, you can join Matthew in the barn. Supper is in two hours, so ten minutes to I expect the both of you to be washing up and getting ready to join me at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the two in unison as Marilla fled the room before she could do something foolish like cry.

“Now, you let us know if you’re in need of anything,” said Matthew, putting his arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Welcome to Green Gables, Jerry.”

“Thank you, Mister Cuthbert,” Jerry turned quickly to his mentor and friend to embrace him.

“Oh, no need to thank me, son. You’ve done us all mighty proud.” Matthew patted the boy’s back. He smiled at the observation that Jerry had much grown since he first came to work at Green Gables. “Well, now. I’ll let you unpack. Meet me in the barn when you’re ready.”

Alone in his room, Jerry looked around at the simple furniture that was most extravagant in his sight. A bed, bedside table, dresser, and a slightly cracked mirror that hung on the wall, which was more than he could ever ask for. He glanced at his reflection and briefly pondered what changes this next year would bring.

Jerry opened the dresser to begin organizing his clothes and things, and upon finding a shriveled flower in the top compartment, he immediately smiled at the thought of Anne. He hoped his dear friend was doing well at Queen’s and not feeling homesick, as he was beginning to feel now. He knew it would take a while to get adjusted to the quiet of Green Gables. At home, there were so many Baynards that silence was an odd luxury. He missed his brothers and sisters and parents, and Jerry wondered how Anne, such a boisterous soul, endured the quiet all her years here.

After supper, and after all was said and done, Jerry Baynard slipped into bed and had his first uninterrupted sleep in weeks. His youngest sister made it a habit to wake him up in the night to accompany her to the outdoor washroom, since she was deathly afraid of being in the dark alone. Jerry had faith that the sibling closest to him in age would take his place as little Adelyn’s protector from the darkness. That night, Jerry Baynard dreamed of Green Gables, Victoria (the new cow whom Jerry named after Victor Frankenstein), and a redhead in the forest who welcomed him with a bright smile.

It was seven in the morning, but Green Gables and its residents were wide awake. Marilla was baking up a storm in the kitchen, in preparation for the board meeting which she, Rachel Lynde, and Muriel Stacey would attend in four hours. She intended to use her plum puffs to mould the stubborn men into flexible clay. Rachel would be the potter, not her, mind you, for Rachel Lynde had a way of persuading people who had made up their minds they would not be persuaded.

Jerry Baynard and Matthew Cuthbert were working hard plowing a plot of soil for Marilla’s vegetable garden when Marilla rang the breakfast bell, summoning them to the kitchen.

After washing up, they took their place at the table and noticed Marilla’s gleeful expression for the first time.

“We’ve received a letter, Matthew. From Gilbert Blythe.”

“Gilbert?” Matthew shared a curious look with Jerry. “How is he?”

“Very well,” she grinned. “He’s asked us for permission to court our Anne.”

“Court?” Matthew’s eyes bulged. “Well, now. I thought he was going to–“

“He didn’t. He is now studying at the University of Toronto.”

“I thought he didn’t–”

“He does. Said so in black in white, in the letter. Here, see for yourself.”

“He didn’t think to ask in person?”

“All explained, in the letter,” said Marilla, extending the paper to her brother. “Read it yourself.”

Matthew waved it off. “I trust your decision.”

“Matthew Cuthbert, this is a serious matter that involves the both of us as much as it does Anne. We need to decide, together.”

“Well, now. I don’t know much about courting,” supplied Matthew weakly.

“But you do know our Anne,” said Marilla, aggravated. “It’s got to be our decision and you will help me write the reply letter to Gilbert Blythe, and that is final.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jerry interjected, “what decision are you leaning toward, Miss Cuthbert?”

“Well, yes, of course,” smiled Marilla. “Gilbert Blythe is a commendable person.”

“If he’s so commendable, I wonder why you need my opinion,” Matthew mumbled.

Marilla ignored her brother. “Jerry, would you like to write anything to Gilbert?”

It was now Jerry’s turn to look surprised. “Me?”

“You do live under our roof now, so you’ll be seeing Gilbert around when he comes calling for Anne during their summer break. And, aren’t you good friends with Anne? Think on it, and let me know. All right, let’s not let the food get cold.”

After milking the cow Matthew had bought after finding later they needed more milk than they thought, and after feeding the goats, he finally read the letter in the kitchen. He read Gilbert’s request to court a flame-headed girl who rooted herself deep in both of their hearts and pondered hard on all the factors. The main one being Anne’s happiness.

Marilla returned from the board meeting and had just entered the house when she heard Matthew’s voice.

“My answer is yes.”

“Pardon me? Hold on a minute.” Marilla hung her shawl at the front and slipped her feet out of her boots and into her indoor slippers. Placing a basket that was emptied of all traces of plum puffs on the kitchen table, she looked at Matthew expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I suppose it’s alright for Gilbert to court Anne. My answer is yes.”

“It is?” Marilla fought back a giddy smile because Matthew looked so serious. “Really now?”

“Yes. They care deeply for each other and Gilbert’s letter– I read it. He loves her, loves our Anne. And... she loves him, too, told me so herself that day.” Matthew cleared his throat again, looking at Marilla hesitatingly. “So are we agreed?”

“We’re agreed. Thank you, Matthew. I’ll write our letter to Gilbert now.”

“Don’t write if your eyes are too tired,” said Matthew gruffly. “You’ve had a long morning.”

Marilla allowed herself a smile now. “So have you. I’ll be calling you and Jerry in for tea in an hour. Would you mind giving this to him?” Marilla handed a cream-coloured envelope to Matthew. “After reading Gilbert’s letter, I forgot about the second one the postman delivered. It’s addressed to Jerry. No sender’s address.”

Jerry Baynard had just finished collecting eggs from the chicken pen. He smiled at the remembrance of Anne and the fox she sought to protect and was startled when Matthew tapped him on the shoulder, almost dropping his basket of eggs.

“The postman delivered a letter. For you,” Matthew extended the mysterious envelope to Jerry, who now looked perplexed. He wasn’t in the business of receiving any letters.

“For me? From who?” Jerry stared at the letter in Matthew’s hand.

“No sender’s address,” shrugged Matthew. “Here, take a break. You’re due for one anyway,” Matthew said, taking the basket of eggs.

Jerry tentatively shoved the letter down his pants pocket before pumping a drink from the well outside. After drinking three pints of water and being unable to find more reason to delay opening the envelope, he fished it out and examined the elegant writing.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling stirring in his stomach, Jerry gently ripped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper that had been folded delicately. His eyes widened as he read

To: Jerry Baynard

From: Diana Barry

At tea, Jerry was preoccupied with the contents of his old beau’s letter, so when Marilla asked again if he wanted to write something to Gilbert, he said yes without thinking.

Marilla handed him the letter she and Matthew had finished writing, along with a pen. Jerry snapped out of his thoughts then to address the Cuthberts.

“Did you give Gilbert Blythe permission to court Anne?”

“We did,” smiled Marilla as Matthew nodded slowly. “He plans to visit Anne at Queen’s and accompany her to Avonlea during one of the harvest weekends. We shall see him then.”

Jerry smiled at the thought of Anne being swept off her feet and experiencing romantic love, and of teasing her about her new beau. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be kin to heartbreak anytime soon. Knowing now what he wanted to say to Gilbert Blythe, Jerry’s brows furrowed in concentration as he picked up the pen and wrote as neatly as he could:

P.S. Félicitations, Blythe! Please say hello to AnnE for me. Take care of her good or I’ll feed you to my dogs. À bientôt. See you soon.

—Jerry Baynard

———————————————————————

wowowow I really am a clown

please read: I’m in the middle of exam season so I will be taking a brief hiatus from posting but let’s see how long I can resist going on tumblr lol so I hope this tides you over while you wait for the next set of letters. do you kindred spirits want (1) Diana’s letter to Jerry or (2) Anne’s reply to Gilbert’s first letter? comment your preference if you have one so ik which I should post next!

index of this awae au/fic so far in chronological order (click to read):

Anne’s letter to Gilbert - #1

Jerry Baynard moves in to Green Gables ft. unexpected mail

The Avonlea girls take on Queen’s aka Cuffing Season

Gilbert’s letter to Anne - #2

click here to access the index to all my works!

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porkchop-ao3 · 7 years ago

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Request: Rick being human for half a second and bringing his college age girlfriend home to meet the family for like dinner or something BUT he doesn’t mention how much younger she is (of course they assume she’s a bit younger cause he’s gross but not THAT young) because he wants them super uncomfortable, Rick/maybe Reader make a lot of jokes just to make it a little worse by the minute but also, are very genuinely happy and it’s obvious? 💖💖💖 I love the one with the artist college girlfriend

I’m gonna go ahead and say that this is the same character as the other art student fics I’ve posted (this will be the third, I think!). I’m glad you enjoy this theme, it’s one of my favourites to write since is the most relatable for me :3

This one is SFW, but this is Rick… So expect it to be a LITTLE inappropriate at times haha. Over 2.5k words. Enjoy!

“Thanks again for inviting me over, Rick. I don’t think I can handle anymore of my mother’s food, she’s on a real health kick right now and there’s only so much kale I can stand to eat.” I said, climbing out of Rick’s ship and taking note of the light pouring from the windows of the Smith house. “Oh. The family are still in? I thought they’d be out.” I raised my brows in surprise and looked over at Rick, who was walking around the ship to meet me.

“Yeah, they’re s-still in, baby. What made you think otherwise?” He asked me, taking hold of my wrist and tugging me towards the house. I hesitated and kept my feet firmly planted, giving him a worried look. “What?”

“You’ve never invited me over when your family have been around.” I pointed out, and Rick’s forehead creased in thought.

“I haven’t?” He said, then shrugged. “Oh. S-sorry about that, they, uh, they’ll be happy to meet you, then.” He continued towards the house, dragging me with him.

“But I’m not prepared! I’ve never met your daughter, what if she hates me?” I panicked and Rick chuckled, shaking his head and ignoring me. “I haven’t even dressed up, they’re gonna think I’m a mess.” I added, looking down at my plain jeans and t-shirt.

“You look fine.” He sighed, pulling me through the front door before turning around to look at me with a little smirk. “Baby, we’ve got steak. H-how can you be nervous when there’s a nice, pink, juicy…” he looked me up and down somewhat flirtatiously, and I cocked a brow at him. “Everyone loves steak. Uh, except the vegans and vegetarians, but… whatever, come on.” He said dismissively, turning away and wandering into the house. I followed him cautiously, my heart starting to hammer in my chest.

“Dad! Dinner is almost done. Your… your friend doesn’t have any special dietary needs, does she? I wish you’d given me more notice.” Rick’s daughter was in the kitchen, her back to us as she dithered around with plates and cutlery.

“Sh-she’s not picky, are you sweetie?” Rick asked me, and I stared at him with wide eyes. I was fucking terrified.

“Oh, she’s here?” She exclaimed, spinning around with an embarrassed look on her face. When her eyes met mine, there was a very long pause. She looked between Rick and I, her expression going from confusion, to disbelief, to realisation, and finally, amusement. She burst out laughing, shaking her head and covering her mouth. Rick and I exchanged a glance, like we were missing the joke, and suddenly the laughter stopped. “Oh.. oh, no. She really is- I’m so sorry. Uhh, my name is Beth. It’s nice to finally… meet you.” She stammered, turning the pink in the face and coming over to shake my hand.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you too.” I said quietly, hoping she wouldn’t notice how sweaty my palm was.

“I’m sorry about that, I just wasn’t expecting… wow! You’re, um, you’re very-” Beth started, giving me an analytical yet careful look, like she was trying to figure out the right thing to say.

“So this is the guardian angel who’s been keeping my father in law out of the hou- oh my God!” Came a male voice, rounding the corner, overflowing with charm until he actually saw me. “Is she- she’s over eighteen, right?” He continued, staring at me with a slack jaw.

“Oh my God you two are fucking- Jesus Christ, could you try to be a little more subtle?” Rick exploded, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning deeply between the two other people in the room. “And yes Jerry, she’s fucking older than eighteen. Fuck me, what do you take me for?”

“He’s not… forcing you, is he? You’re here by choice?” Jerry looked at me with a sympathetic expression, talking under his breath.

“Oh, uhhh, no he isn’t forcing anything I’m very much here by choice.” I nodded, looking at him with concern.

“Are you sure?” He asked, taking on a fatherly tone. I just awkwardly laughed, I didn’t know what else to do. This was not going well.

“Anyway, this is (y/n), I hope you’ll both be very fucking nice to her when she joins us for dinner this evening, okay? You got that Jerry?” Rick grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the man before storming out of the room and pulling me with him. Rick slumped down into the living room sofa with a face like a slapped ass.

“Oh God.” I sighed, chewing on my thumb nail. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“What? Baby, no, it’s fine. Th-th-they just didn’t know what to expect, and Jerry’s a prick. Don’t worry about it! They’re over it now.”

“He asked me if I was fucking here against my will!” I hissed in that shouty kind of whisper.

“Yeah, I know. Fuck him, right?” He scoffed.

“You didn’t tell them that I’m younger than you?” I asked, going to take a seat next to him. Rick shrugged.

“Didn’t occur to me. I don’t think about age.” He admitted, glancing over his shoulder towards the kitchen and chewing on his lip. “I’m sorry that they acted like that, baby. Maybe I should have said something… b-but why should we have to explain ourselves to anyo-”

“Holy crap, grandpa’s a total manther.” A girl a few years younger than me walked into the room, looking like she’d just uncovered the best thing ever. Rick withered and rubbed at the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“What the fuck is a manther?” He asked monotonously.

“You know, like a cougar, but the guy version. You’re dating a chick young enough to be your granddaughter.” She explained, though didn’t seem particularly surprised as she wandered over to us. “Hey, I’m Summer.” She addressed me.

“I’m (y/n).” I said, offering her a friendly smile. She didn’t seem too shocked to see me, acting pretty laid back about the age gap. That was a relief.

“So you must be like, twenty or something, right? Do you go to college?” She asked, her eyes perking up with interest.

“Yeah, I study locally-”

“Oh my God, what’s it like? I’m applying right now and I’m still not sure where to go, what’re you studying?” She asked, coming to take a seat on the arm of the sofa next to me.

“Oh, it’s okay, I guess. I’m studying art. I think college is more about what you put into the subject yourself, so I’d just pick based one whatever feels right when you go to visit. Like, do you feel at home there, you know?” I smiled at her, happy to have found something to talk about with at least one of Rick’s family members. Rick groaned beside me and pushed himself to his feet.

“I need a fucking drink.” He sighed.

Everyone was quiet around the dinner table. The atmosphere was so thick and awkward you could almost physically see it. It seemed the younger the family member, they less my age bothered them, since Rick’s grandson, Morty, had barely batted an eyelid at me when he’d met me. Perhaps he already knew about the age gap, I knew that Rick spent a lot of time with him, so it made sense that he’d share a lot more information with him.

“So, I heard you talking to Summer about college.” Beth said, breaking the silence with her forced, cheery tone.

“Yes. I’m studying art; I’m hoping to work in illustration once I graduate.” I explained with a smile.

“Oh? That sounds exciting. Uhh, Jerry used to work alongside a few artsy people like that, he works in advertising… when he actually has a job.” Her tone remained polite but I could sense an irritated shift as she spoke of her husband.

“Now that’s a little different, sweetie, I’m sure (y/n) here doesn’t want to be bored with the details of advertising… but if you are interested I’d be happy to have a talk with you about the kind of things I do, you never know, maybe one day you and I might-”

“Jerry.” Beth snapped.

“What? Honey, you never know when these sorts of opportunities will arise.” Jerry said defensively, and Beth rolled her eyes before looking at me.

“I’m surprised you and my dad, um, get along so well. I didn’t take him for an art lover.” She said, looking between Rick and I, eyes full of questions. “How did you two meet?”

I glanced over at Rick, hoping that he would answer for me. He simply looked back at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer. “Oh, um, he attended a party I was at one night at a friend of mine’s flat.” I said, skimping on the details. In actual fact, he’d crashed the party, turning up as drunk as a skunk through a portal in the living room. Everyone was too scared to ask him to leave, and I’d been scared too… until he decided to sit down and chat with me, and I’d actually found myself enjoying his unique charm.

“Dad? You got invited to a college party?” Beth asked in amused disbelief.

“Not exactly.” He grinned devilishly, and nobody seemed to need clarification. I supposed they knew better than anyone what he was like. “Needless to say this little cutie was eager, I-I-I was barely there ten minutes before she was trying to stick her tongue down my throat. Not that I minded, of course.” Rick spoke with a faux-romantic tone, placing his hand on my knee and looking over at me with doe-eyes. Jerry started choking, Summer gasped, and Beth’s jaw dropped. Morty simply rolled his eyes, clearly unaffected.

“Wow. Uh, maybe not at the dinner table, dad?” Beth said uncomfortably. I stared at Rick with a slack jaw, unable to find a suitable reaction. I felt like slapping him, though; not only was that humiliating, but also completely untrue. Rick was the one to kiss me, and it’d taken all my strength to shove him off of me. I hadn’t responded to any of his advances until the fifth or sixth time I’d met with him.

“That’s actually not how it went down, but… I highly doubt I’ll be believed.” I said quietly, picking up my fork and stabbing a piece of broccoli harder than necessary.

“I-I believe you.” Morty said, and I gave him a thankful smile. Rick squeezed my thigh, and I thought it might have been his way of apologising until I looked over to see his lecherous gaze. His hand slid further up my thigh, and I reached down to grab it, squeezing hard enough for him to try and pull out of my grip. When I let go of him, he narrowed his eyes at me.

“Pardon me if this seems rude, (y/n), but from an outsider’s perspective, you two make a… unique couple. What is it about Rick that you like?” Jerry asked after a period of silence, and I stared at him for a while before finding my words.

“Oh, that’s a difficult question to answer.” I said, hoping he’d take the hint and let it slide.

“She knows.” Rick said, his town low and undeniably sexual. Of course, he’d make it about sex.

“Perhaps it’s his charming sense of humor.” I said through gritted teeth, glaring at Rick as I answered.

“That’s not it.” He replied knowingly.

“No, you’re right. It’s the fact that he can always tell how I’m feeling. You know? Like when I’m really mad.” I nodded with a tight-lipped smile that was practically a grimace. The family looked between each other uncomfortably, sensing the tension between us. Rick, although he was a lover of pushing my buttons, seemed to settle down, nodding his head and reaching back to my thigh. He kept it close to my knee this time, much to my relief.

“Honestly, Jerry, as much as it pains me to admit to relating to you in any way, shape or form. I’m just as confused as you are.” He snorted. “Sh-she’s gonna be real pissed when she finds out I’m not rich and she’s wasting her time waiting around for me to croak.” He teased, and I rolled my eyes. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, putting a blush on my cheeks and a smile on Beth’s face.

After dinner, I found myself alone with Rick in the garage. I sat watching him work with my arms crossed, trying to decide if I was mad at him. Part of me was; he’d put me through hell at that dinner table, it’d been so awkward. But part of me never could be mad at him, at least not for long.

“I-if you’re gonna chew my ear off, then let’s get it out of the way.” He said to me, practically reading my mind.

“I can’t believe you made me out to me some desperate slut in there. You know that’s not what happened that night.” I sighed, but there wasn’t much annoyance in my tone at this point.

“I was trying to lighten the mood.” He smirked, seeming completely unremorseful.

“By talking about personal things in front of your daughter and grandkids?” I asked, raising a brow. He finally looked up at me then, and gestured for me to come over to him. I did, and he pulled me onto his lap. I sat sideways on his thighs, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep myself steady.

“They expect that shit from me. If it’s gonna reflect badly on anyone, it’s me; you’re in the clear. D-don’t worry. That’s just- you were nervous, and if I’m honest… I felt a little weird too. That’s just how I deal with shit.” He said quietly, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me tight. “I-I realise that I’m punching way above my weight with you. I’m fucking seventy.”

“That doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. He shook his head too.

“It’s true. You’re young, you’re hot, s-so fucking hot that people assume I’m your fucking kidnapper or something. I just wanted to make it seem like… I don’t know. L-like there was a reason for you to be interested me.” He admitted, and I frowned.

“It’s not like you to be insecure.”

“I’m not! I-I-I don’t usually think about this shit. But their reactions… look, it doesn’t matter, okay? It’s just you and me, now.” He shook his head, looking up at me and giving me a little smile. I nodded and bent down to kiss him. He moaned softly, relaxing at the act and kissing me back with just as much eagerness. The garage door opened, and I quickly broke the kiss. I tried to get up, but Rick’s arms kept me firmly in place.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” It was Beth, chuckling when she saw us. “I just came to say goodnight. It was nice to finally meet you, (y/n). Dad’s always mentioning you, it’s great to finally have a face in mind.” She said.

“It was nice to meet you too. I'm… I’m sorry I’m not what you expected.” I gave her an apologetic smile and she laughed dismissively in response.

“I’m sorry for acting like a crazy person. I think I gave the worst first impression.” She shook her head in embarrassment and I smiled at her.

“No worries. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Beth.”

“You’re welcome, anytime.” She said, then gave us a little wave.

“G’night, sweetie.” Rick said as she left us alone. “See? Wasn’t so disastrous, w-was it?” he added, turning to me. I shook my head with a smile, and kissed him again.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #fanfiction

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lushscreamqueen · 3 years ago

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THE KILLER SHREWS on the Schlocky Horror Picture Show

August 03, 2008

OPENING: Hello, good evening, and welcome to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show. I'm your host, Nigel Honeybone. As the 1950's grew to a close so did the era of the giant radioactive beast. Spawned from the nuclear fears stemming from World War II, the movies saw dozens of animals super-sized due to one of the popular catch words of the time: Radiation! By decades end, just about every manner of giant beastie had been seen. Lizards, spiders, ants, grasshoppers, the list goes on. The major studios had lost the inclination to finance such projects, and gradually re-focused their attention on new trends like nudies, bikies and gothic horror. That is not to say that movies with ginogorous critters didn't exist. It's just that, more often than not, it was left to the little guy, the independent producer or filmmaking rookie to unleash such monsters. Witness tonight, if you dare, as a group of people trapped on an island during a storm must contend with a bunch of whippets in wigs, in the 1959 anti-classic, Attack Of The Killer Shrews! BREAK: Don't go away, we'll be right back with more dogs In drag, and then after the ads we'll get back to the movie. MIDDLE: Welcome back to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show. Attack Of The Killer Shrews, also known as just Killer Shrews, was the brainchild of Texas millionaire Gordon McLendon. Born in Paris, Texas in 1921 he would go on to win a nationwide political-essay contest, attend Yale University where he studied Far Eastern languages, work for the campus radio station, and served as business manager for the Yale Literary Magazine, all before the U.S. got involved in World War Two. After the war he bought an interest in a radio station and built up a following for his live baseball game broadcasts. Having built up quite a name for himself as a pioneer in the radio field, McLendon now turned his attention to film...a regrettable decision for producer and audience alike. He and his family owned several drive-ins and theatres. Like many drive-in owners discovered, their outlets for screening films were considered the bottom of the barrel by the pretentious lot in Hollywood and many in tinseltown tried their darndest to keep their films out of the drive-in chains. This only led to the drive-in owners taking the next logical step, they financed their own films. In 1959 McLendon financed three films: The Killer Shrews, The Giant Gila Monster, and My Dog Buddy, none of which are remembered as sterling examples of cinematic skill, if they're remembered at all. James Best, known far and wide as Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane on television's original Dukes of Hazzard, plays Thorne Sherman and captains his own ship. Sounds cool, but sadly it isn't any bigger than the SS Minnow, and the only person he has to boss around is Rook. He's a glorified gopher, delivering supplies out to Doctor Craigis on his island. Sherman is a man's man, which by 1950s terms means he drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, has an appreciative eye for the ladies and is ready for a fistfight on a moment's notice, the kind of simplistic brute we are gradually evolving away from, a little too slowly if you ask me. His Honour Judge Henry Dupree plays Rook Griswold and looks like he could have played the title role in that live action Fat Albert movie: Hey, hey, hey! He's Sherman's sole crewman, although the two seem to share a real friendship rather than just bossy Captain/abused crew dynamic. Poor Rook is the first person to bite it in The Killer Shrews, or more accurately, the first to get bitten. Repeatedly, as a matter of fact. In this way this film helped start the stereotype of the token black character becoming the first victim in horror films. You may think films like Night Of The Living Dead and Alien were breakthroughs for the token black character in American horror, but a pessimist might say they simply get more screen-time before being killed-off. Baruch Lumet plays Doctor Marlowe Craigis. He may not seem like much, but he fathered one of Hollywoods greatest producer/directors, Sidney Lumet, famous for

Twelve Angry Men, Failsafe, The Pawnbroker and Dog Day Afternoon. Speaking of dogs, he also directed the all-black musical The Wiz starring Diana Ross and Michael Jackson. Nobody's perfect. Anyway, Craigis says he hails from Sweden, and has come to the island of The Killer Shrews to further his scientific work, but you and I both know it was to keep his sexy daughter out of the Swedish porn industry. Craigis wants to shrink people, or at least slow down our metabolisms so the Earth's resources will last longer when overpopulation becomes a big problem. I think a bigger problem might be smarmy foreign scientists who screw around with Mother Nature... Swedish-born Ingrid Goude, a former Miss Universe, plays Ann Craigis, Doctor Craigis sexy daughter. She claims to be a zoologist, which is about as convincing as Nicole Kidman playing a brain surgeon. Though to be honest, I wouldn't mind checking-out her knowledge of biology, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Ann serves no purpose here other than to scream on occasion, and to provide Captain Sherman with a new First Mate, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Ken Curtis, another famous redneck, plays Jerry Farrell, part of Doctor Craigis research team. Curtis was inducted into the Hall Of Great Western Performers in 1981 for his performance as Festus in almost 300 episodes of Gunsmoke. Jerry's vital role in the mission is whining, cowering, boozing it up and generally being a waste of skin. He despises Sherman from the start, probably because he recognises that Sherman is much more of a man than he ever will be. I wouldn't get attached to Jerry if I were you. Played by Gordon McLendon, the Texas millionaire responsible for this mess Doctor Radford Baines is another one of the scientists helping Doctor Craigis with his work. This guy is really devoted to his work. In fact, he can hardly think of anything else and walks around muttering things like "Hematoxic Syndrome." His last moments on Earth are spent in devotion to science and furthering the understanding of mankind, instead of doing something really important like trying to get laid or run away. Unknown Alfredo DeSoto plays Mario. Despite the Italian name, Mario is apparently Mexican. He's most likely a servant of some kind, though his main duty seems to be as a device to advance the plot. Whatever he does, it doesn't involve too much physical labor, as Mario's mid section is expanding faster than a balloon. He isn't around much. Just long enough to say things like "Si, senor," "No, senor" and "Aaaahhhh!". It also explains why the shrews ran out of food. Mario doesn't look like he was missing any meals... Attack Of The Killer Shrews gives real meaning to the phrase Low Budget. Filmed on a mere handful of sets and featuring scene after scene of people talking, often with their back to the camera, with little in the way of action, and one could easily dismiss this as pure manure. The fact that the giant shrews are played by dogs in drag when they're not being represented by clumsy puppets, and one could not be blamed for turning up their nose at this movie. If there is a saving grace, it's the short running time. So yes, there's lots of boring talk, but there is also enough monster action to satisfy fans of such schlocky goodness. Besides, I shouldn't have to explain how funny it is to watch somebody scream in terror at a Collie wearing carpet remnants, when the dog is rolling over on his back obviously expecting a belly rub! And it's with that thought in mind we now return you to the carnivorous canine creepiness that is Attack Of The Killer Shrews! CLOSING: It's alright, you can open your eyes now. How exactly do Killer Shrews assimilate poison into their systems, anyway? For instance, I love to drink Absinthe, and I do mean Absinthe, not that over-the-counter swill. I've consumed hundreds if not thousands of litres of it over the years, over three thousand litres just in the last fifteen years, but I still haven't started frothing with green poison yet. If I can't assimilate my own favourite

beverage after drinking thousands of bottles, how can the shrews do so with poison after just one sampling of it? Anyway, please join me next week so I can poke you in the eye with another frightful excursion to the backside of the Public Domain, filmed in glorious 2-D black & white Regularscope on...The Schlocky Horror Picture Show. Toodles!

by Lushscreamqueen

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dsmroleplay · 4 years ago

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#Retribution #SPN #DSM #RP Part One

Co-written by @Devonzaine & @HickOperator

Devon - Julian Duval had been a close friend and business partner for many years. So when news had come he and his pack had been killed in a midnight raid on his compound I’d naturally looked into it. Sitting back in the leather desk chair I stared at the picture of the asshole who was responsible, Colton Winchester owner of Blackwater. This fucker as I’d dug further had ties to the U.S. Military and had a hand in countries around the world. The word “untouchable “ had come up more than once but Julian had managed to grab his daughter once. Surely there was a chink in his armor.

Devon was a weapons manufacturer and moved in similar circles no doubt he’d find a way in. There was a buzz that the asshole son was stepping to the forefront and taking on chief operations for the Texas office. And word Was Colt was moving his wife and daughter with him to New York. Devon had photographs laying on his desk if Alyson at a restaurant with none other that Graham Miller, he’d been Julian’s second in command and he was the only surviving member of Julian’s pack. Miller was no one to fuck with and Colt had a reputation for being hell on a battlefield as well so he reasoned Ian would be the easiest target as of now. His other father... a guy named Jake Winchester was not a physical threat and seemed more interested with his ex husband’s look-alike than anything else. He’d do this smart, go in all charming and seduce the kid. Then he’d tear him down till the kid was broken. What better payback than daddy’s boy fucked beyond repair. He would enjoy this.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - Classes, classes, and more classes. It was getting to be too much. After dealing with the shyte with the news bomb that my dad dropped on me, it was exhausting. The mother of my child was in the hospital, my dad and I weren't on the best terms, it was exhausting. Now I'm going to a damn Gala for BlackWater. As a representative since Dad was with Qhuinn, getting ready to move to New York. My eyes closed and my head laid back and I rubbed my eyes before going to my closet. I had to tug out my suit and climbed into the shower and began to scrub my body clean. I was too damn tired for this. After cleaning, and shaving. I tugged on my suit and texted the nurse on call in the hospital and grunted. No change. I was tempted to tell Dad I couldn't do it, but if I did that...then there was a strike against me. I may have accepted Papa's olive branch, didn't mean things changed. Nope, tonight was an event I had to endure to keep the image. Then that's what I'd do. Let the games begin.~

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -The gala was to fundraise for the local food bank and various other charities in the city. And beneath that it was an informal meeting of a lot of weapons manufacturer and government official's to catch up without having press thinking they were up to something. Devon had met Colt Winchester once years ago at something like this and he'd come across a solid business man even though everyone knew he preferred to be knee deep in the shit instead of behind a desk. He wondered how junior was going to be. As the limo pulled up the paparazzi were lined up taking photos and shouting questions hoping some of the guests would slow down and speak with them. As always Devon just smiled and kept walking he wouldn't entertain their bullshit even if his life depended on it. Once inside he made his way to the staircase and took up a spot there so he could survey the room and look for one Ian Winchester.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~When I arrived, I smiled but bypassed the reporters. When I entered, I was graced by different people and began to socialize, explaining that my Dad was busy with his wife and mother-to-be. They told me to give him their congratulations before talking to me about needing some help. I told them that we could talk more later. Soon, a guy standing on the stairs caught my attention. Who the fuck was he?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -The young Winchester had made eye contact and Devon raised his glass of bourbon as way of greeting and then took a drink. Come on kid take the bait. Seems the intell was right this one played for both teams just like his ole man.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian -Cocking my head to the side, I watched the male. I nodded before a woman catches my attention and asked me for a dance. I laughed lightly and walked with her and danced. It was one of my ex-army buddies.~

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - Chuckles as he watches, he might have some fun with this after all. Sipping his drink as he was caught by Jerry Atler a CIA operative that pulled me aside.- Have you heard anything about an artifact Blackwater discovered? -Eyes narrowed.- No I haven't. What's going on? -Atler brought me up to speed on what he knew and that the intelligence world was buzzing wanting to know where it was and what was it. Rumor was a very top tier science team had been sent to Colombia but the information was sketchy. Devon processed that and told Atler he'd give him a call if anything turned up. This could improve his business if he were to find out where and what for them. Walking down the stairs talking to this one and that making his way to Ian.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~I felt him before he arrived, my instincts told me to run, but I shut them down. They didn't do well for my team, I doubted they'd help now. I thanked the woman for the dance before looking up at the male.~ "Hello, I'm Ian Winchester. May I help you with something?"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - Relieve the boredom of this -Gestures with his glass to the surrounding patrons- /event/ -Laughs- I'm Devon Zaine. I wanted to meet the youngest Chief of Operations ever for Blackwater. I've met your father Colt before, I'm guessing you look more like your mother. -Offers his hand.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - "Yeah, I get that a lot." ~Chuckles and holds my hand out and shakes his.~ "I don't know how my dad managed through these things without shooting his foot to get out of them." ~Chucķles and motioned towards the grounds.~ "Care to step outside and talk?"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Eyes settled on Ian and they didn't move from him, the handshake was firm and Devon made sure to let his fingers graze the inside of Ian's palm as he pulled them back. Chance? Or deliberate?- After you Mr. Winchester.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~I was unease about having anyone at my back, but this was for the company. If I could pull people in, and get a bigger profit in so Dad wouldn't worry so much, I'd deal with it. I made my way, and said the obligatory hellos and explained why Dad wasn't here, I made a pathway To the grounds and grabbed a drink from a waiter who was walking by. Sipping it, I leaned against the rail. Waiting for Mr. Zaine.~

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Slipping out he cracked his neck and put his glass down on a table before settling against the railing next to Ian.- I get the feeling you hate these things as bad as I do. -Looks over with intensity.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - "I'd rather be in my most boring class in school than this shyte. I'm not Dad, I get that. I'm too damn young, yadda yadda. It's frustrating." ~I admitted, taking a sip of my drink.~ "I'd rather be finishing my project I was working on. However, it's my turn to step in this.. Fake shyte show." ~Motions towards the others. Inwardly, I grimaced. Hoping he wasn't offended that I basically called this event as an ass kissing event.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - What is this project you're working on? I-Sincerely interested he was curious what this one got up too.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - "Security and medical research to help more people that need it most. Not keep the rich satisfied but to help those who aren't as lucky." ~Shrugs and takes a longer pull of my drink.~ "I've seen so many people suffer because of the greedy."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Nods.- Money makes otherwise outstanding humans do incredibly stupid things. You didn't grow up in this life did you... -Studying Ian he smiled.- I confess I did a little research on you. Navy Seal... turned corporate jock. How did that happen?

:::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Rubs my neck.~ "My mom took me and my sister away from our dad and dropped us off. So no, I didn't grow up in this...world. and I agree, Money is a big motivator for stupid people." *Shrugs.* "After a failed mission...I came home to work at Blackwater. Haven't regretted it..."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - I'm glad you found your way back. Are you in pain? -Noticing him rubbing his neck. Concern etched in his face.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Notices I'm rubbing my neck, I blush.~ "Sorry, it's a habit I picked up when I talk about my past. What about you Mr. Zaine? What do you do to earn this...prestige." ~The word prestige was used sarcastically. I was sure that he hated being here, and wished he wasnt.~

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -The blush was adorable, he was to young to be in the wolves den but Devon pushed that aside.- Well I grew up on the streets of Brooklyn. Hustled till I got caught and was tossed into a boys home. Some shady shit went down and I ended up being foster by the name of William Hampton. He was sweet on boys but the ole bastard taught me a lot about the world. Sent me to college etc, I studied engineering and kinda stumbled into weapons manufacturing. Funny how that works, always need funding so... build what the military needs and you find yourself with some. So I make shit for the suits to blow things up with. -Laughs-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~I shook my head and exhaled. Not showing my disgust. He was one of those types of people I could not wrap my head around. with a polite smile, I looked at him.~ "I'm sure you'll find plenty of donors who are willing to pay that kind of money to blow shyte up."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - I'm not here to find donors Ian, I came to meet you. Call me intrigued. -Eyes settle on him wondering if he'll run like a scared lamb.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Eyes turning cold, I stood straighter.~ "And now you have. As you have also said, you have researched me. I'm sure you already know enough about me. Now excuse me, I need to be here. Have a goodnight Mr. Zaine." ~I replied politely before starting to make my way inside.~

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Devon laughed quietly and watched the riled Winchester walk away. He wasn't a little bitch after all. Devon looked back over the scenery calculating his next move.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~After another hour, I bid a goodnight and left. I texted Dad. My head throbbed so fucking bad. Ordering a car, I waited in the darkness and fresh air, trying to calm down the anger. Next time, Papa is doing these. He can fake it with the best.~

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Zaine had thought he might persuade him to come home with him but this was better. He was rattled and Zaine wanted to know why Ian was so guarded. Keeping an eye on him he'd had his driver take him home. He'd see Ian again very soon.-

#DSM SPN RP

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tzudism · 7 years ago

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Love Line

Chapter 1

“Jeongyeon!”

“Huh!? What!? Who’s there!?”

“Stop falling asleep, this is a university songwriting classroom not your bedroom.”

The class giggles and I hide my face. It’s not my fault his voice is so monotone that I fall asleep.

Rrrrriiiinnnng

“Anyway class, I have your latest exams here, please pick them up before you leave.”

Oh god, I don’t even want to look at that exam again, I didn’t study at all. I walk up to the desk and pick it up slowly and take a peek at my grade.

Oh great, gotta get out of here before he calls-

“Jeongyeon! Can you come to my desk please.”

Me…

Grudgingly I turn around and put a fake smile on my face. Maybe if I annoy him enough he’ll let me go.

“Hey Jerry! What’s going on?”

“It’s Professor Peterson, Jeongyeon. How can you act so nonchalant after just seeing your latest exam score?”

“I try not to dwell on things too much you know? Tomorrow is another day!”

“I advise you to rethink your philosophy on life. Let me show you your total grade in the class.”

“I should be fine right? My actual writing assignments are perfect, its really just the tests that… what!? I’m almost failing!?”

“While you are correct that your song writing assignments are perfect, brilliant really, these tests do matter, and you’re doing terribly on them.”

“Professor Peterson, I’ll study my butt off for this final, if I get a decent grade what can I get in the class?”

“I’m afraid it might be too late to get anything done with just the final.”

“Jerry please!”

He looks at me sternly.

“I mean, Professor Peterson… there’s gotta be something I can do.”

He takes a deep breath and takes a flyer out of his bag and hands it to me.

“This is the university’s talent contest, your talent in song writing is some of the best I’ve ever seen, if you weren’t so-”

“Lazy?”

“More like, uninspired.”

He takes a deep breath and takes off his glasses and looks at me.

“You’d be one of my best students, if you just applied yourself. Ok, listen Jeongyeon, if you can write a song good enough to place at all in this contest, I’ll count it as extra credit.”

“So all I have to do is write the song?”

“No no, its not that easy. Nobody is going to vote for you on lyrics alone. You need a good producer who can accompany music to your lyrics and the right singer to provide feeling to your words. Both things I have emphasised in this class. If you actually paid any attention you would know this. If the music doesn’t grab the audience and the singer can’t convey the feeling you are trying to show to the audience the lyrics get ignored. I’m trying to show you that making a song isn’t as simple as you think. Will you take my offer?”

Instantly I want to leave the room and forget about that stupid contest, but then I look at my grade and sigh. This is probably my only chance.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

I snatch the flyer and head out.

“Remember this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t study for the final!”

“Yeah yeah Jerry whatever.”

“It’s Professor Peterson to you Jeongyeon, Professor Peterson!”

I sat in my dorm room for hours thinking of what I could write.

“Not this either ughhh!”

I crumple and toss, what seemed to be the hundredth failed song, to the trash which was starting to overflow. I hear my room door creak open.

“Jeongyeon what is this mess!?”

When I look to see who’s talking I jump off my chair and go down on my knees.

“Nayeon! You with your beautiful voice! Help me!”

Nayeon has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We came to this school thinking we could be the next big names in music. If anyone has the talent to do that it’s her. She has a voice like an angel, and she knows it.

“What’s up pabo? What can I help you with? And what’s with this mess? You’re normally the clean one.”

“The talent contest! I need to place in order to pick up my grade in songwriting class, can you sing it for me?”

“Of course! Anything for you, let me see what you got.”

I look over at the pile of trash and then to my empty desk.

“I got…nothing…”

“Really Jeongyeon? This is why you’re failing, you’re so-”

“Uninspired?”

“More like lazy.”

I scoff in disbelief.

“Does this look like laziness to you?” I yell as I point to the pile of failed attempts to write a song.

“Yes.”

I stand up and get in Nayeon’s face ready to fight.

“Yes!? What do you mean? I’ve been here for hours!”

“If you hadn’t been lazy and actually studied in the first place, you wouldn’t be here would you?”

All I can do is glare at her then sit back down at my desk because I know she’s right.

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Ask me again when you actually have something written down. And clean up, I can’t believe I have to be the one to tell you this.”

I stretch and place a new piece of paper down on my desk.

“I’m not leaving this room until I get this song written!”

“By the way, don’t you have dance class in 20 minutes?”

“I’m not leaving this room until its time to go to class!”

“Doesn’t it take like 15 minutes to get there? You still have to change too.”

“I hate you.”

“What was that? You love me? Oh thanks I love me too.” She giggles.

I scoff at her narcissism and get dressed into my dance clothes and grab my penny board and run off to class.

Stupid general ed classes. What is even the point of them? I thought I was done with physical education in high school anyway? I refuse to play sports and this was the only option left.

“Ahhh!”

I look up and notice I almost hit this girl.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t paying attention! Are you ok?”

“It’s ok.” she says with a smile.

Her voice was quiet, but sweet. I held out my hand to help her up and before I could say anything, she grabbed it and stood up.

“Thank you.” she said quietly.

She pulls away her hand and runs up the steps and into the perfoming arts building. As I watched her run, I feel a warmth in my cheeks and in my chest. I catch myself looking at my hand that held hers for a short while. Who is this girl? I’ve been coming to this class for months and I’ve never seen her around before. I ran up the steps to follow her but when I enter inside the building she’s lost in the sea of people running to class. I decide to give up and head to my classroom. After an hour of exhausting dancing I grimly walk out of the class like a zombie. I head over to the water fountain across the hall near the ballet practice room because sadly it’s the only one in this dumb building and I forgot my water bottle at the dorm. As I drink my water I can hear a piano playing in the practice room. I gulp down my water and take look inside. There’s a girl playing effortlessly looking as focused as can be and the music coming from it sounds so beautiful I could cry. I look to the right and there’s a girl dancing along to the melody as if she came straight out of a fairytale. I look at the dancing girl and realize that it’s the girl I ran into earlier! Suddenly the music stops and I hide beneath the window. I hear footsteps coming towards the door and I run out the building.

What is wrong with me!?

I sit down to catch my breath and I see the two girls walking out. The girl that played the piano walks away and waves goodbye, while the girl I ran into waves back and heads my direction. I clear my throat and walk up to her.

“Excuse me! H-hi! I’m the girl that accidentally ran into you earlier, I saw you heading this way a-and I realized I-I didn’t get a chance to apologize…sooo… I’m sorry for almost running you over.”

I’m sorry for almost running you over? Really? And why am I stuttering?

“Oh! Yeah I was almost late for my rehearsal so I just got up and ran, and don’t worry about it I’m fine, if anything I’m sorry, I should’ve looked where I was going.” She says with the same smile from earlier. It was sort of gummy smile I never knew how cute that could be before today.

“No no! Don’t be sorry! I’m the one that should’ve been paying more attention. I’m Jeongyeon Yoo, and there has to be something I can do to make it up to you, really.”

“I’m Mina Myoui, and no please don’t worry about it I’m fine. I also have to go take a shower and get to my next class, so I’m in a bit of a hurry again, so I have to go, but it was nice to meet you! Bye!”

She shows that cute gummy smile again and waves goodbye and runs off.

I skate back home and all I can think about is that gummy smile. Even when I’m sitting at my desk trying to figure out lyrics all I can think about is how she could wave bye at me as if we were close when we only just met.

“Jeong! Jeong! Yah! Yoo Jeongyeon!”

I turn to the door to face the nagging girl in front of me.

“WHAT!?”

“What are you doing staring off into space like that? I’ve been asking you what do you want to eat and you don’t answer! I got pizza by the way.”

“What kind?”

“Hawaiian.”

“Gross! You know I hate pineapple on pizza!”

“I know! That’s what you get when you don’t answer right away! You pick off the pineapple for all I care. What are you even doing staring off into space and smiling like that? Its like you fell in love or something.”

Me in love? No way I just met the girl. If anything I might like her. I think…

Something sparks in my brain.

“Nayeon!”

“What!? I’m not buying you another pizza!”

I grab a pencil and write down a few lines.

“I think I just started my song!”

To be continued…

My voice is trembling, I can’t control it My cheeks are turning red I can’t hide it I try to act cool and fine But I can’t hide my feelings I think I love you

tteollineun moksori mamdaero andwae ppalgaejineun bolmajeodo gamchul suga eopjana aesseo kulhan cheok damdamhage boyeodo ireon nae mam sumgil su eopseo neol saranghana bwa

떨리는 목소리 맘대로 안돼 빨개지는 볼마저도 감출 수가 없잖아 애써 쿨한 척 담담하게 보여도 이런 내 맘 숨길 수 없어 널 사랑하나 봐

#jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #nayeon #mina #myoui mina #twice #jyp #jyp entertainment #jyp twice #twice fanfic #jeongmi #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #im nayeon

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kaylarazon-art110 · 5 years ago

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D1 - Artist Conversation - Jenny Rask

Exhibition Information: Artist: Jenny Rask Exhibition: Limbo Media: Organic/Unprocessed Materials, Household Objects, Mixed-Media, Installation Gallery: CSULB School of Art; Marilyn Werby Gallery Website: jennyrask.com Instagram: @jjennyraskk

The embodiment of “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”, Jenny Rask, is an MFA Sculpture student at California State University, Long Beach, School of Art. Rask has also studied at the Art Center College of Design, Weaving Studies at the Fumi Omiya Studio, and Journalism at the University of Oregon. Her experience and dedication to design have been practiced in her roles as both Creative Director and Designer for MTV (1995-1999) and as the owner of Thingy (1999-2003), a well-decorated design firm for its accomplishments in film and print work. Recently, Rask has been able to display her work in the Marilyn Werby Gallery on campus. Albeit a student-centric gallery, this is far from the first exhibition of her installations. Being a Los Angeles native, her first exhibition was a group collaboration named “Salon Space” in the Art of Elysium. Following her debut, she has done plenty of other displays in Los Angeles, as well as one in New York City. While her media varies between photography, drawing, and sculpture, Rask has a particular affinity towards the latter. In an engaging conversation, she has explained her fascination with discarded materials. Fascinated with how roadside junk is arranged, fascinated by the choice of what is thrown away and what is not. CSU Long Beach has hosted many an exhibition of Rask’s before and has had the honor of displaying “Limbo” this past week.

A brilliant summation of Rask’s interest with the discarded, “Limbo” is a melody of seemingly old household objects as well as organic materials such as branches and rocks. Upon entering its room of display, a physical and emotional warmth can be felt emanating from the piece. The bright lights not near blinding, but enough to provide a low heat. It is clear that the items of the ensemble are chosen with a warm-toned color palette in mind: a muddied swan ornament atop a rusted cart, the brass of the various light fixtures, and the innate redness of the various rocks and sticks that litter the ground and assembly. The size of this sculpture and its distribution of materials are also immediately noticeable. As previously stated, stones are spread out on the floor with no discernible pattern. It should be said that it would be easy to mistake the installation as a whole as three separate entities, as they are not physically connected and vary in distance from one another. The nature of this large and spread out artwork encourages its audience to keep a safe distance away, to stand closer to the entrance rather than walk around its invisible border. The best descriptors for “Limbo” are warm, expansive, and deliberate in arrangement.

Fragility was what first came to mind when observing “Limbo”. Although the materials were all motionless, their placements gave a feeling of anticipation of a crash; ranging from several objects atop a small skateboard on the floor to the wire fixture of a large tree branch to the ceiling. I was almost scared that I could accidentally knock something over and ruin the artist’s vision. Upon talking with Rask, however, I found that her intent was quite the opposite. She purposefully designed the arrangement of the sculptures so that not all its pieces are secure and giving them the potential to fall, playing directly into the title of the sculpture: “Limbo”. The connection between the artwork and its name is clear, both representing an in-between state that could result in a myriad of different outcomes. This is how Rask explains she feels, in-between and on the precipice of something new whether it be positive, negative, or neither. This theme of “potential to be” radiates from the installation, it’s warm tones and lights almost conveying a feeling of optimism. Its spread also seems symbolic of a vastness of possibility. The more materials, the seemingly greater number of outcomes become possible. The scatteredness and jerry-built nature of “Limbo” breathe positivity into the unknown rather than fear of failure. Perhaps a perceived failure, like the falling of a piece of this sculpture, can lead to an unexplored depth that still results in an enhanced success.

I found the conversation between Jenny Rask and myself to be lively and stimulating. Her eyes lit up when I told her that her piece reminded me of the art galleries back home at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. They continued to shine as she explained the inspirations she finds in ordinary objects, that each one once had a purpose and an owner and has had a journey of its own. The emotional attachment to inanimate objects that she described reminded me of my connection to my childhood stuffed animals. Although they only sit on a shelf, I could not bring myself to throw them away because of the intrinsic meaning I gave them. We connected on these ideas of introspection, particularly about feeling in-between stages of life. While we were at very different periods of our respective lives, her as an accomplished MFA-candidacy artist and myself as a second-year of my undergraduate education, I found comfort in our shared experience of exhilaration of the unknown, of the potential.

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genkidesurun · 8 years ago

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I’m bored and have no story (or curhatan) to share... so it’s time to duel answer some questionnaire! Actually, the original post [here] got more than ninety questions, but I’ll just pick the ones I’m interested in and alter some of them a bit.

1. If you had to be gay for a day, what celebrity would you most like to take on a date?

It’s arduous to project the kind of girl that’ll draw my attention. But since I have the hots for nerdy guys (with fast-paced speech, silly gesticulations, and, of course, glasses!) like John and Hank Green, I’ll probably go for girls with such similitudes. Hmmm... Emily Graslie, perhaps?

6. What are the top five most contrasting songs on your playlist?

When you have both metals and nasyeeds in your playlist... It’s like what Wali called ‘tomat’ (red--tobat maksiat). All those fucking and shitting and hell, to praising The Lord and acknowledging your penitence and baper-ing; repeating over and over and over and over...

8. If you could make just ONE change to this world, what would it be and why?

Erase the notion of witches (wow, I’m feeling like Madoka; ups, spoiler alert). Can I wish for immortality?

9. If you could wake up tomorrow and be fluent in three additional languages, which would you choose?

Quenya, Parseltongue, aaaaannddd SIMLISH, YEAH! Have you listened to Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night sung in gibberish--I mean--Simlish? You really should!

11. What are the top five movies to make you cry?

Hello Ghost

The Green Mile

Hachi: A Dog’s Tale

You’re the Apple of My Eye

Miracles in Cell No. 7

Yes, I’m such a crybaby. Hello Ghost and The Green Mile made me ugly the most.

12. What’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? Describe it in detail.

Uh... overslept and missed exams. Good thing they were just dreams!

13. Would you rather raise 25 children or have the chance of ever having children taken away? Why?

WHY SHOULD I OPT FOR RAISING 25 CHILDREN?! AIN’T NOBODY HAD TIME (AND MONEY) FOR THAT.

17. If you had to lose one of the five senses, which would you choose and why?

Rather than senses, it’s probably better to discard emotions.

21. If your life was about to become like Cheaper by the Dozen and you were going to be saddled with twelve children, what would you name six girls and six boys?

Let’s say those children were orphans taken care by me. I’d happily give them the names of fictional characters! Before I familiarize you with my kids, let me introduce myself first: Karlisha “Kirun” Runa Niephaus, the caretaker and the custodian, along with Raine Virginia Sage and Damuron ‘Raven’ Schwann Oltorain.

(Boy) Vandesdelca ‘Van’ Musto Fende The big brother of Tear. As the result of his upbringing as an orphan at early age, as well as being the oldest in the orphanage, he became precocious, looking after his sister in their parents’ absence and willing to help the caretakers attending the other children while also struggling on his study. He was an amiable fellow and well-respected throughout the orphanage. Currently in the last year of senior-high and busy preparing himself for a law school.

(Girl) Mystearica ‘Tear’ Aura Fende Van’s baby sister who adored him dearly. She had grown into somewhat a wallflower; a shrinking violet. Although shy around people, Tear was a girl with a strong moral compass, never quivered to defend her friends from bullies. Like her brother, she had a beautiful, melodious voice that had brought her to become a choir member in both the town’s church, alongside Van, and her school. Currently a seventh-grader.

(Boy) Ffamran ‘Balthier’ mied Bunansa Both dashing and quick-witted, Balthier was the conspicious of all. His charm and eloquence could easily impress anyone he met, thus making him the most popular kid around. Albeit a bit self-centered at times, Balthier could show his altruitic side, especially when it came to his bestfriend’s affairs, Ramza. Currently a ninth-grader and a valuable player of his school’s basketball team.

(Boy) Ramza Lugria Beoulve A boy who survived from a wildfire that burned an entire village, including his parents, his beloved sister Alma, and his bestfriend Delita Heiral. His meek and tender disposition clicked perfectly with Balthier’s smug and jaunty manner, therefore creating a bridge of trust between them. Ramza had an eye for world history, spending most of his time in the library to read books and write essays. Currently a ninth-grader and established a close relationship with the history teacher Goffard Gaffgarion.

(Boy) Edgar Roni Figaro Sabin’s older twin brother who was an electronics hobbyist and a gamer. He was the technician around the house, repairing the appliances and, sometimes, modifying them. Knowing very well that he had insufficient funds to begin with, he befriended Cid Del Norte Marquez and worked at the latter’s workshop as a part-timer. Though a geek at heart, Edgar didn’t constrain himself as a mere geek; he was surprisingly flirtatious, but to no avail. Currently an eleventh-grader.

(Boy) Sabin Rene Figaro Edgar’s younger twin brother. Unlike his prudent and erudite twin, Sabin was quick-tempered and straightforward, and excelled at physical activities, particularly martial arts. Under the tutelage of his karate master Cyan Garamonde, Sabin achieved black-belt in a no-time and had won many tournaments. Of all their differences, he and his brother shared the same unflappable determination and ambitions. Currently an eleventh-grader.

(Girl) Estellise “Estelle” Sidos Heurassein Cute, courteous, and bright; Estelle clearly caught everyone’s attention, but still being humble as she looked up to Philia. She was one of those bibliophiles who could even recite various passages from heart. After the incident involving her two bestfriends, Yuri Lowell and Flynn Scifo, Estelle promised herself to become a splendid doctor, thus leading her to be studious, hoping to obtain a scholarship. Currently a tenth-grader, a model student, and a member of the science club.

(Girl) Margarita “Rita” Blastia Mordio A curious prodigy with an IQ of 160; however, lacked of social competence. She liked to correct people whose perceptivity was wrong, which inadvertently annoyed them unbeknownst to her. Rita was close to Raine’s little brother Genis due to their similar level of intelligence and close age, and to Estelle who always welcomed her presence. Currently a fifth-grader.

(Boy) Genis Kloitz Sage The genius younger brother of caretaker Raine whose brain power could disparage the grown-ups’. Even as a child, he could solve his sister’s undergraduate math problems and sometimes engaged in Edgar’s projects. Due to his superior intellect, he demonstrated repellent disposition and was cynical towards others, but would greatly respect everyone with the same intelligence as him. Currently a sixth-grader and had a crush on his P.E. teacher Presea Combatir.

(Girl) Rutee Atwight Katrea An upbeat, tomboyish lass with misunderstandable attitude. Having a firm moral sense yet being irascible at the same time, Rutee could easily pick a fight with anyone she deemed erroneous. Despite this shrewish demeanor, she was in fact solicitous and attentive towards her close relations. Due to the hapless circumstances, Rutee became eager to earn money, working as anything as her employer wanted her to be. Currently an eighth-grader.

(Girl) Philia Clemente Felice Like your everyday bespectacled girl, Philia was smart, genteel, and naive; pretty much a foil to Rutee. A devout Christian, she highly regarded her belief and attended the church every week. Through her science teacher Batista Diego, nature and chemical experiments had greatly interested her as she aimed to be a chemist in the future. Currently an eleventh-grader, a model student, and the chairwoman of the science club.

(Girl) Rydia Asura Mist The youngest and newest in the orphanage, being five years in age. She was rescued by the sailors Cecil Harvey and Kain Highwind from ship drowning, a disaster that killed her mother and developed her fear of waterbody. She loved animals dearly as she often visited the town’s farm and pet house with the company of one of the caretakers.

25. What’s the most frightening thing you’ve ever seen in your life?

Failures.

26. Name five books you think everyone should read and give a brief synopsis for each.

Too lazy for the synopsis. Just check them out on GoodReads:

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (by Agatha Christie) Lemme proudly present one of Christie’s masterpieces. I personally found this more exquisite than And Then There Were None.

A Short History of Nearly Everything (by Bill Bryson) I know Sagan’s Cosmos and Hawking’s The Brief History of Time are popular as hell, but hell... they were published in the 80′s (but still gold though, you really should check them out). We need newer ones and Bryson’s is certainly the best--for me, at least, at this time--in elaborating big history and the development of science.

Why Evolution Is True (by Jerry A. Coyne) A nifty allusion for Darwin’s The Origin of Species. No. Don’t protest. Dawkins probably produces more of this kind of books than Coyne does and, of course, is far more popular than any evolutionary biologists alive. Dawkins is a brilliant writer and all, but Coyne has the apt for making the theory easier to comprehend.

Little Women (by Louisa M. Alcott) Still the best bildungsroman. Ever.

Speaker for the Dead (by Orson S. Card) Sci-fi, philosopy, anthropology, politics, religion; all in one. Yes. I’m such a weirdo to enjoy the second book far more than the first one.

27. Do you believe one can fall out of love?

It’s a fact. Why bother asking anyway.

28. What are your three favourite sounding words?

Peculiar Don’t you think the word ‘peculiar’ has such a peculiar pronunciation?

Halcyon Archaic one, yes. So old-fashioned that Kirun--who fancies classics--is indulged by its subliminal beauty. Moreover, it was used as the title of a Bleach’s chapter: ‘Goodbye, Halcyon Days’. Aren’t ya romantic, Orihime?

Preposterous I like to shout out this word--in my solitude, of course--whenever expressing my disbelief.

31. List the seven deadly sins in order of the one you feel you commit the most to the one you feel you commit the least.

Pride, greed, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, then lust.

32. What’s your current desktop picture?

46. What’s your favourite ever television commercial?

youtube

49. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you?

“Kirun kan pacarnya aku.” -- by some girl

51. Name five facts that the vast majority of people won’t know about you.

I’m a girl (see? I knew you’d be surprised).

Clearly not a fujoshi. What? You guys don’t believe me? Fine then.

Though having [too] many guy friends, all of my bestfriends are girls; which are, of course, very few in numbers.

Yes, I’m very aware that I love Gaara so dearly, but I’m still normal too, you know, since I had crushes in real life. And they were boys. I know, I know, I’m so gay, right? Wait, what am I exacly; male of female?

Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a piiiipp who wishes to openly express my opinions and matters without worrying any prejudice nor distressing the ones I love.

54. Share five goals you want to complete in the next 30 days.

Sing Asterisk (of Orange Range’s) fluently. This one’s freaking hard.

Read Next

Dirt For Dinner: Living With The Weird Condition Called Pica

Emma’s experience isn’t uncommon. In point, this was studied and written about path back in 1988 by Air Force psychiatrist George Brown ( now an associate chair for VA affairs ). Being written a few a few decades ago, such studies gives outdated nomenclature to discuss transgender beings, but it shows that this phenomenon has been around for some time. He surveyed the higher pace of enlistment among trans individuals and called it a “flight into hypermasculinity” — an attempt to suppress the confusion associated with gender dysphoria through negative buttres and work that’s seen as “macho.” From that view, the all-encompassing live-where-you-work armed itinerary seems like a pretty great flee. It’s too often considered as a good alternative for high school graduates who want a fighting chance at a decent profession and benefits, and don’t attention getting the hell out of sidestep to do it. That’s not a bad deal for a population that is at much greater risk of becoming homeless.

As it is about to change, the military forces is the single largest bos of trans people in the country. But since this is an employer whose central commodity is “protecting the nation” and “watching over all the rockets, ” it IS important to ask the question: Are trans parties able to perform their duties, even with the overcome of transitioning? Well, it is about to change that’s not as big of an issue as people fear.

Here’s What it’s Like To Transition While A Soldier

Jerry is a transgender gentleman providing on active role in the Navy. He pointed out that, first, the military forces isn’t precisely in the business of paying for extensive surgery. “Military program is to at the least cover pharmaceutical and mental healthcare. Anything else asks serious motivation and luck … I paid for my top surgery alone, when “theres” thousands of guys posting[ on Reddit] every day how they didn’t pay a dime for their surgery, and they’re, like, baristas.( Nothing against baristas, it’s only insane that I’ve gotten PTSD as a souvenir from overseas deployments and can’t get something that someone who “re going home” every night reeking like luscious coffee and tarts can get with a fraction of international efforts .) “

He points out that if a soldier does modulation while on active role, they’re bound by very strict rules as to when they can do it: “Commanders are less likely to approve you going surgery if you have to deploy — which prepares gumption, and should be the case.”

Transitioning can have a significant impact on a soldier’s physical abilities. Harriet transitioned while invited to take part in the National Guard, and she certainly saw a difference: “When I started hormones, my forte and speeding both changed dramatically! Hormones feign everyone differently to a degree, but higher testosterone absolutely builds it easier to build and maintain muscle, and unless I wanted to live and sleep in a gym, I plainly wasn’t going to maintain the kind of fitness ranks I had as a ‘guy.'” Harriet shared her Army Physical Fitness Test Scorecard. Overall, her run era for two miles has increased by about six hours, and she did significantly fewer push-ups and sit-ups, although her overall ratings are “respectable, but nothing spectacular.”

But the changes brought on by change gash both paths. Jerry, our active-duty Navy trans boy, said, “Exercising has get loadings easier! I rarely qualify for the running part of the physical fitness exam now, and I extend just fine. In the past, if I didn’t extended every day, my tallies would be lower than average. I can elevate more, I can run faster, push-ups are a breeze. I’m training for a button move competition called the 1,000 Lbs Club: terrace, squatting, deadlift must equate 1,000 pounds. Females have the 600 Lbs Club. Without any serious train, I’ve already matched the 600 -pound standard. One downside, however, is the load increase. I’ve easily gained 27 pounds since starting[ testosterone ]. Can’t lose it — I’ve tried! “

The most important fact to note about soldiers transitioning while on active office is that it’s unbelievably uncommon. This RAND study thinks between 25 and 130 surgeries per year among active-duty personnel. Between 10 and 130 soldiers per year could experience “reduced deployability.” There are currently more than 50,000 active-duty soldiers who are undeployable. The vast majority of these soldiers have short-term harms, like torn ACLs from a basketball game gone bad. If you’re to be concerned about military readiness, pick-up football match are perhaps a most pressing threat than transgender people.

The Military Has Been Adapting

Trump’s announcement draws it looks a lot like transgender beings are justification the mighty mainstays of the military institution to crumble. But Emma said in regards to trans beings in the military forces, “There wasn’t an effect on readiness or lethality … it was a non-story until President Trump stirred the fib today. When he said they’re a interruption — that was the word he used in his tweet — he is the one who is interrupting the morale and duel efficiency of our services by basically throwing away 15,000 exceedingly trained, highly capable fighters … “

Our roots have noted some difficulties — about the paperwork involved in name changes, some weird armed programs on when other soldiers should use a different pronoun for them, and shit like Harriet’s experience here: “I was out at a army prepare activity, and I had been isolated as much as is lodging is concerned — they’re like, ‘Well, the soldier isn’t male enough to stay with all the male soldiers, and we don’t know if she’s genuinely female, ‘ so I was set by myself. And that was pretty crushing.”

The military doesn’t change on a dime. But that’s not to say they weren’t adapting. The Department of Defense published a whole manual on it, which includes some quite woke quotations on gender identity, such as: “Sex and gender are different. Copulation is whether a person is male or girl through their biology. Gender is the socially defined the responsibilities and characteristics of being male and female associated with that sex.”

And while Harriet dealt with predictable bullshit, she also encountered supremely understanding officers: “In my military mental health evaluation, one of the things the mental health officer actually said was that they needed to act quickly to change my reputation and gender issues, because I was so far developed and they didn’t want to induce severe detrimental mental health effects or stressors on an otherwise well-functioning soldier.”

On a personal stage, all of the transgender soldiers we spoke to reported widespread support from their comrades. When Harriet was stopped from lodging with her fellow female soldiers after coming out, they stepped up to shape circumstances right: “All of the other women soldiers that were there at the time — some of them didn’t know me at all — actually got together of their own accord and went to leadership and said, ‘This is wrong. She belongs with us. She’s one of our sisters.’ It was truly, really awesome.”

For their area, our sources haven’t been subjected to the various kinds of we’ll-get-you-while-you’re-asleep-in-your-barrack boys’ squad punishment we might expect from Hollywood’s depiction of intolerant military culture. That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, and there are still a lot of soldiers( 41 percent ) who don’t supporter transgender assistance beings, but Jerry fantasizes many of those tribes just haven’t actually fulfilled any out trans soldiers. He justified, “I’ve been stealth for a year now, and four you knew at my command. These guys are proudly republican, and each of them have considered me with glory and respect. One of them was a former cholo, and now senior enlisted, fucking crazy regard to him. So when I verify someone on social media comment about “tranny this” and “shim that, ” I know I can change their perspective, because I’ve done it four times on base already. It’s all about patience and education. The professionalism of our army never fails to surprised to see me. In the end, we’re all brothers and sisters in arms, and we should crave what’s excellent for each other.”

Harriet actually seems safer with her compatriots than she does out in the normal world: “One of the safest residences that I find I are actually not have to worry is among other soldiers. I don’t know if it’s simply because of me personally, that I’m lucky enough to be not super tall and sort of fit kind of what parties expect a woman to look like … Or if it was my prior reputation? I’ve been with the same component the entire seven years I’ve been in the Guard. I feel having all those personal relationships already certainly helped … I appear little safe off-base than I do on.”

Emma is no longer in the military. But she is a lawyer, and most of her clients are soldiers, so she still spends a lot of time in and around the military. After she came out, she noted: “I would say 99 percent of my friends, my subsidiaries, and even my mentors in my senior navals who were in charge of me ought to have unbelievably supportive. Y’know, I have everyone from general police to lance corporals saying, ‘I’m delighted to see that you came out’ — utilizing the remedy pronouns, using the correct figure. All of that was really supportive.”

She’s preferably pee-pee about the president’s freshly tweeted plan: “I have friends who are still on active obedience, and they are extremely hideous , not only for their occupations but also for their physical security — not necessary from their service members, but from members of the public who may see this as carte blanche to discriminate and assault transgender beings … I think that what the president was your day was callously contemptuous of the faithfulnes our services members have supplied — especially the transgender assistance members. I think he was negligent today with the well-being of transgender assistance members.”

Robert Evans has a notebook, and you can buy it here . For more, check out 5 Shockingly Outdated Problems Women in the Armed Face and Raped On The Battlefield: What Male Veteran Survivors Know . Have a narrative to share with Cracked? Email us here . Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out How One Escaped Slave Changed The American Civil War Forever, and watch other videos you won’t meet on the area !

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newstfionline · 7 years ago

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California weighs costs of being the center of the ‘resistance’

Jessica Mendoza, CS Monitor, August 28, 2017

San Francisco and Berkeley, Calif.--They came, they marched, and in their view, they conquered.

The thousands who hit the streets of San Francisco and Berkeley this weekend declared their demonstrations a success after Patriot Prayer, an Oregon-based group--which says it eschews racism, but whose gatherings have previously attracted white nationalists and neo-Nazis--canceled rallies scheduled to take place in both cities.

“When Nazis and white supremacists and white nationalists are in our city, we cannot stay home and we cannot stay silent,” says Mia, a data analyst from the South Bay. “We’re going to resist!” adds her mother, Barb, who wore a hat adorned with flowers and carried a bouquet as the pair joined the crowd in San Francisco. (They declined to give their last names.)

The marches reaffirmed the Bay Area’s, and more broadly California’s, position as the center of resistance to what liberals see as a wave of ultra-conservatism and right-wing extremism sweeping the nation. And, like Mia and Barb, many who turned out for the events were proud to call themselves Californian because of it.

“The resilience of California’s populace sends a strong message of, ‘We can take it,’” says Shirley Song, who came up to the Bay Area from Sunnyvale, near San Jose, to participate in both rallies.

Yet styling itself the capital of blue America has not come without cost to California, political analysts say. Since President Trump took office, the state has regularly wrangled with Washington over approaches to immigration, climate change, and social services--and still faces the threat of cuts to key federally-funded programs. The state has also seen a surge in both hate crimes and violent public demonstrations over the past year and a half, as protesters across a range of ideologies converge in the state’s most liberal enclaves. Those same cities have also become a frontline for a nationwide struggle over freedom of speech and how to effectively respond to hatred and bigotry.

That all this is taking place here is no coincidence, says Brian Levin, director of the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University, San Bernardino.

“California is not only viewed as a bastion of progressive politics but a battleground for a demographically changing America,” he says. “To white nationalists, this is what they want to prevent the rest of the country from turning into. So this is tapping into a vein that’s existed for some time.”

The tension between the Golden State and the nation’s capital has found its most visible expression at the level of politics and policy. When Mr. Trump pulled the US out of the Paris accord, California Gov. Jerry Brown (D) met separately with China’s President Xi Jinping to discuss global efforts to address climate change. When Trump released his budget proposal, which outlined a hike in defense funding while cutting support for spending on social services, Governor Brown called it “unconscionable and un-American.” And as Trump doubles down on his campaign promise to build a wall along the US border with Mexico, California lawmakers prepare to pass the California Values Act, a statewide “sanctuary” bill that would further limit cooperation between state and local law enforcement and federal immigration authorities.

Nearly every action Trump takes “is a gut punch to California,” says Sherry Bebitch Jeffe, a professor of public policy at the University of Southern California. “[The administration has] targeted the state that gave Hillary Clinton her popular vote win. And California’s responding to what it perceives as a threat to its Democratic constituency.”

But conflict has manifested in the streets, too. While police reported only one arrest in San Francisco on Saturday, Berkeley saw more than a dozen people taken into police custody and several confrontations between right-wing activists and the larger crowd. Antifa--the term used for a loose affiliation of leftist-leaning, militant groups opposed to fascism--crossed police barricades to storm a park named for the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., in downtown Berkeley.

The Sunday protest adds to the 27 public gatherings statewide that have involved “injury, arrests, property damage, or significant aggressive physical disruption” since February last year, according to data compiled by the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism.

“The engagement in the mainstream between progressives and conservatives is playing out in a dangerous carnival mirror reflection between anti-fascists and anarchists, and white nationalists,” Professor Levin says.

To California’s most dedicated activists, such clashes are part of the cost of resisting racism and white supremacy. The social movements of the past were fraught with violence because sometimes that’s what it takes to defend democratic values, says Emily Lee, spokeswoman for Bay Resistance, a coalition of Bay Area advocacy groups. “We’re clearly in a fight around the moral soul of our country,” she says. “We can’t simply sit by and hope these alt-right groups go away. So we support nonviolent direct action, but also people’s right to self-determination and to defend themselves.”

For others, however, the situation is not so clear-cut. “We want to stand for justice, freedom, and free speech. I’m not sure that shutting down [Patriot Prayer] is the best way to fight,” says Betsy Bigelow Teller, a Berkeley resident who came to Sunday’s counter protests wearing Groucho Marx glasses. “I think there needs to be some sort of understanding and dialogue.”

Patriot Prayer founder Joey Gibson insists that although he started the organization as a response to counter-protesters attacking attendees of a Trump rally during the presidential campaign, his anti-extremism message cuts both ways. “Nazism is extremely dangerous, but in my opinion no different than Antifa,” he says in a phone interview ahead of the Bay Area demonstrations. “Hate is hate. That’s what I’m trying to preach to people.”

He and his supporters say they have a right to be able to get that message out. Although the rallies he’d planned over the weekend were cancelled, Mr. Gibson did show up in Berkeley on Sunday, where protesters chased him and reportedly sprayed pepper spray at him. The police said they detained him for his protection, according to TV reports.

Many leading the counter protests in the Bay Area disagree. “It’s doesn’t matter if they themselves don’t support white supremacism,” says Ms. Lee with Bay Resistance. “They know who their rallies attract, and that has a direct impact on our communities, whether they claim that’s their intention or not.”

It’s a situation that analysts say American society will continue to grapple with in the face of deeply polarizing forces. “What are we supposed to do? I don’t know if there is an answer,” says Professor Jeffe at USC. “You can’t just say, Let’s all sing ‘Kumbaya.’ That’s one of the questions we’re going to have to focus on.”

“California is not only symbolic, it’s a bellwether,” Levin says. “We’re seeing a test nationwide of how much extremism will enter the sociopolitical mainstream, and everything we see, we see more of here.”

#California #California liberals #California progressives

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nickreposted · 7 years ago

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nicreations shared this story from Vox - All: Hooray to not trying to win at exercise. A mid-century fitness star named Debbie Drake made me realize that little has changed in over 50 years when it comes to the American pursuit of a better body and the desire for a quick fix to achieve it.On her morning TV show, launched in 1960, the leggy, soft-spoken blonde would take viewers through "the wonderful world of exercise to the land of slim, trim beauty."Like many exercise gurus who have come after her, she claimed to hold the secrets to a perfect physique. (Back then, this involved "looking great, feeling great and keeping your husband happy," in Drake's words.) You could erase your double chin, Drake said, by simply stretching out your neck. Through delicate twists and deep breathing, she promised, inches would melt away from your waist, buttocks, and thighs.Workouts today are much less gentle than Drake’s. We run marathons in record numbers, subject ourselves to violent boot camps, contort our bodies in yoga classes, and pay $35 for less than an hour of SoulCycle or Solidcore — seemingly friendly workouts that I have seen grown men run from. At CrossFit circuit-training classes, the mascot is "Pukey" the clown, and lifting until you pee is a celebrated goal.So while the forms of exercise have become more intense over time, the desire to unlock the secret to fitness hasn't changed since Drake. Nor have the promises by hucksters and gurus. Jack LaLanne, Richard Simmons, Jane Fonda, Suzanne Somers, Cindy Crawford, Gwyneth Paltrow — they have all purported to know the one true way to a better body.Incredibly, with all the science that has been done on how to exercise, what we know about what works for fitness is almost embarrassingly simple — yet we have invented myriad ways to cloud, over-complicate, and obscure these basic, common-sense truths:Read: Surprisingly simple tips from 20 experts on how to lose weight and keep it off 1) If you're not exercising regularly, doing any activity will help&lt;img src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/2637248/shutterstock_113524399.0.jpg" alt="dog talk"&gt; (Prudkov/Shutterstock)Don't think about jumping from the couch into an intense CrossFit class. Don't worry about interval training, or even fitting in the right mix of cardio and strength workouts. For people who don't work out regularly, finding physical activity you don't hate doing is the most important step.Like the best diet for weight loss, the people who research exercise all told me that there is no single best way to go about exercising: just find a workout you can tolerate."A one-size-fits-all approach doesn't work," said Alex Hutchinson, author of the book Which Comes First, Cardio or Weights? "The best exercise for people is one they are going to adopt and do on a regular basis. If that means getting out for a walk with the dog every night and you can commit to that and stick to it, then do it."Gardening, cleaning your floors, walking around a shopping mall, walking to the grocery store or work — all of this counts as physical activity. You don't need to sign up for a gym membership or go to expensive pilates classes. According to sports nutritionist Matt Fitzgerald, author of the books Diet Cults and 80/20 Running, the single biggest predictor of whether someone will stick to a new routine is simply whether they like it or not. "Those who say they enjoyed their workout the most are more likely to keep exercising after a year," he said.Many studies have shown that, even if you don't lose a pound or change your body after working out, exercise will improve a range of health outcomes, including lowering your cardiovascular disease risk and staving off Alzheimer's. So just find a way to sweat — and don't sweat the details.2) Cardiovascular exercise will keep you on the earth for longer&lt;img src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/2637140/shutterstock_180557201.0.jpg" alt="running"&gt; (Brian A Jackson/Shutterstock)Science has unequivocally demonstrated that cardiovascular workouts (walking, running, swimming) will help you live longer.Starting the 1940s, Jerry Morris — a pioneering Scottish epidemiologist — began to study people who moved around a lot at work (conductors in double-decker buses, postmen who delivered mail on foot) and compare them to people who had more sedentary jobs (telephone operators, truck drivers). Morris was able to establish that there was an association between physical inactivity and chronic disease risk, with the risk incrementally decreasing as a person's level of physical activity increased.Since then, few have quibbled with the fact that one's level of aerobic fitness is a key predictor for how long they'll live and what diseases they'll succumb to.We now know that, globally, physical inactivity is responsible for 6 percent of the burden of disease from coronary heart disease, 7 percent of type-2 diabetes, 10 percent of breast cancer, and 10 percent of colon cancer.Inactivity is also responsible for 9 percent of premature mortality, and a number of studies have shown that people who exercise are at a lower risk of developing cognitive impairment from Alzheimer's and dementia and also have higher cognitive ability scores.3) If you are exercising regularly, mix it up(Fort Worth Star-Telegram/McClatchy-Tribune)For those who do exercise, research suggests that you need to vary your workouts for the best results: both the activities you do and the intensity with which you approach them."No matter what workouts you’re doing, no matter how great the workout is, if that’s the only workout you do, you’ll hit diminishing returns," said Hutchinson. You need to surprise your muscles and challenge them in new ways, he added.As a rule of thumb, Fitzgerald suggests, "Make sure two or three of your workouts every week are strength workouts." The rest should be cardiovascular-based, such as running or swimming.Interestingly, he has also found that a half hour of weight lifting each time is enough to get results, and that you don't necessarily need to do repetitions of every exercise. "People think you need to do three sets of exercises for each part of the body, but you’ll get 80 percent of the results from one set. So if you’re going from zero to some strength workouts, I would suggest doing only the one set."Varying the intensity of your workouts is also important. There's a lot of good evidence now that interval training — short bursts of really challenging activity — can greatly improve a person's fitness, even in only a short amount of time every week.Consider this PLoS One review, which pooled together the results of 37 studies on whether training programs that included periods of high intensity ameliorated aerobic fitness. They found that interval training improved the participants' health outcomes, even when the high-intensity bursts only lasted for three to five minutes.Martin Gibala, a professor of kinesiology at McMaster University in Ontario, is one of the world's top researchers on high-intensity interval training. He says that the balance of evidence now suggests that people derive more gains when they dedicate their workout time to an intervals approach compared to endurance exercise."There’s good evidence now that intervals can be a time-efficient way to improve your fitness and markers of health status," he said. "You can get away with less total time commitment by taking an intervals based approach."One of his most recent studies showed that, in a small group of sedentary men and women, doing really intense interval training for just ten minutes, three times per week, improved subjects' endurance, blood pressure, and blood sugar levels.But even he says switching your workouts up and finding one you like is the best way to get fit. "A varied approach to fitness is always going to be your best bet. Doing internal training, resistance training, endurance training — that’s going to be effective in the long run for lots of reasons. It can prevent boredom and make sure you’re engaged with your exercise routine."Plus, many people outside of a study setting will not naturally push themselves into the levels of intensity needed to see a benefit in short-burst workouts, and it might not be a good idea to go from the couch to high-intensity intervals. Here, too, the old adage holds: do the exercise you like doing. "Whenever we start talking about what’s perfect," said Hutchinson, "it can become quite daunting. So what’s ideal shouldn't be viewed as a barrier."4) Exercise probably won't help you lose a lot of weight — but you need it to keep weight off and stay healthy&lt;img src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/2637350/shutterstock_199985132.0.jpg" alt="exercise"&gt; (GaudiLab/Shutterstock)This review of studies on exercise and weight found that people only lost a small fraction of the weight they expected to given how much they were burning off through their new exercise routines. Some overweight people even gain weight when they start exercising.This is mostly due to the fact that people develop "compensatory behaviors" when they start to work out, thinking they can have those extra treats because of all the calories they burned, said Tim Caulfield, author of the Cure for Everything. "They go for a run and then eat a high-calorie muffin and completely neutralize that run. You're not going to lose weight."But this isn't the full story about exercise and doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Exercise, as you will have noted by now, is hugely beneficial for health. It raises mood, protects against disease, boosts energy, and improves sleep quality, just to name a few well-documented benefits.And physical activity is extremely important for weight maintenance. In one study, which looked at 20-year weight gain in over 3,500 men and women, those who were physically active gained less weight over time and had a smaller waist circumference compared to people who weren't active.When a bunch of studies on the question of weight loss and exercise were taken together, researchers found that, overall, exercise led to only modest weight loss. But, when compared with no treatment, exercise helped people lose a small amount of weight, and when people started to exercise and cut their calories, they lost more weight than with a diet alone. Even when exercise was the only intervention for weight loss (so no diet) study participants saw a range of health benefits, reducing their blood pressure and triglycerides in their blood.5) You shouldn't do extreme workouts all the time&lt;img src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/2637540/shutterstock_208239481.0.jpg" alt="crossfit "&gt; (Tyler Olson/Shutterstock)We have entered the age of the ultra-marathon, Tough Mudder mud runs, and the lift-until-you-puke CrossFit culture. While these higher-intensity workouts will surely push you to your fitness limits, they're also more likely to lead to injuries.CrossFit workouts have been associated with rhabdomyolysis — a condition that's brought on when you work out so hard, your muscle fibers break down and release their cells into your bloodstream, leading to kidney failure and even death.Other studies have revealed alarming trauma rates. This 2013 study, published in the Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research, was designed to look at the frequency of injury in CrossFit athletes during routine training. Of the 132 people who responded to the survey, 97 (or nearly three-quarters) reported getting hurt during CrossFit training, and most injuries involved the shoulders and spine. These respondents reported a total of 186 injuries; nine led to surgeries. Similarly, a study in Orthopaedic Journal of Sports Medicine concluded that shoulder and low-back injuries were most common, followed by knee injuries.So these studies revealed real CrossFit harms, but is the workout really more dangerous than any other? Scientists writing in the Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research put their findings in context: CrossFit injury rates were similar to Olympic weight-lifting, power-lifting and gymnastics, though CrossFit was safer than rugby. That's probably about right, given that CrossFit routines involve dead-lifting, rope-skipping, burpees, and other exercises common to power-lifting or gymnastics. So any intense exercise comes with a higher risk of injury. Marathon runners, for example, commonly injure their knees, particularly when they continue to run on their already traumatized limbs.Fitzgerald suggested taking extreme exercise by the "80/20 approach." "This comes from research showing that elite endurance athletes in all sports do 80 percent of their training at a low intensity and only 20 percent at high intensity," he said. In other words, high-intensity workouts only had a small part in athletes' training programs, and he said that studies on recreational exercisers found that this ratio conferred the most fitness benefits.Hutchinson had this rule of thumb: "The harder you train, the more likely you are to get injured. The smart thing to do is to progress very gradually and never do way more this week than you did last week."He added: "If you gradually progress over five years, you'll make huge strides."WATCH: 'Why run the marathon? I ran one to find out'

https://www.vox.com/2014/12/17/7405451/best-workout-perfect-body

#IFTTT #nicreations's blurblog

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somethingineedtodo-blog · 8 years ago

Text

About me?

My name is *E* I’m a 20 year old male and this is my very first time here on Tumblr, this is also my first time online in almost a year*

I would currently describe myself as a very quiet, reserved, intellectual yet very insecure guy.

My interests are music (drums and piano), languages, photography, singing, psicologhy/human behaviour and helping as much as I can to other people.

Well, I’ll keep it super brief, but this is an overall resume of my life starting at 8 years.

8-10 Years.

- First of all let me start saying that I do not live in the prettiest place of the world, there are lot of gangs and is a common occurrence to get mugged, beat up, threatened or even killed. -

Due to the nature of the place i was brought into the world and other things, my parents were always very dire with me for me to do excellent in school from the very beggining.

My father comes from a bad place-family, he ran away from his home at age 10, didn’t even finished elementary school but yet he managed to learn a decent job (he is a mechanic), he is a class A- worker, an old fashioned man.

I have nothing but the outmost respect for him for what he has accomplished with the very few tools that he has... but that’s it.

My mother on the other hand comes from a decent family, yet she didn’t finished elementary too, she has had a lot of “jobs” during her life, nothing serious.

Despite their excessive pressure i managed to always be on top of every class, i was super participative in all the school activities, yet didn’t had any friends, sometimes i felt like a robot, but a very intelligent and cool robot.

Even at that short age i remember constantly spacing out and getting lost in my head for a lot of timel, having a lot of thoughts and questions about life, existence and things that i believe right now are were not a common thing at that age. The things that i remember asking myself the most at that age are: “Is being good at school really going to guarantee me a succesful life?” ”what does“succesfull” mean? does it mean having a good house, car, material possesions or does it mean being happy with myself while at the same thime contributing something positive to those around me? “are succesful and happy two different things?” “what if im not happy?” “how do i know if im really happy?” I remember in vivid detail watching other kids playing football and then out of nowhere they started to fight while i was just... away, away in a corner just observing.

I had two things “clear” in my mind.

I had to be good at school and nothing else, i couldn’t afford to lose focus on some other thing because i would get in trouble with my parents.

The place were i was living wasn’t a place for someone like me, I didn’t wanted to do “bad” stuff nor having to do with those things in the slightest way (As a result of this i pretty much stoped talking with everyone in the area and that got me into a lot of troubles even back then, constant threats, stealing my money, bullying, etc etc, but i didn’t even minded it, it felt somehow natural and i developed this state of insensibility and numbness toward those psicological abuses and the people (15-20yr old guys) that were doing it)

And then it was my house... Things were not okay at my house. My dad despite being an awesome worker and always providing what he could to the house... he was an alcoholic and abused my mother physically and verbally all the time in front of me, my mother on the other hand was just “numb” and didn’t even cared, she only cared about serving him and doing good in her “job”. One of the “fondest” memories that i have of my “family” was in one christmas... They were arguing... badly. My father was drunk an started yelling while my mother was just preparing the dinner... and i was just watching them... not knowing what to do... nor understanding what was exactly happening because from my perspective they had nothing to be figthing for... Thats when i turned on the Tv and the first thing i saw was the “Tom And Jerry” show... i looked up again to my parents and i don’t know why but i found such a resemblance in how how “Tom and Jerry” and my parents were acting...

I just thought to myself... “Tom and Jerry hate each other right? So that means my parents must hate each other?” And i toldto my parents with a cold dead face but with tears in my eyes... “Why are you even married...? Went to my room... and cried my way to sleep... at age 9. The days passed and nothing changed drastically...

My parents noticed that i didn’t go out and that i was turning into a (in their words) “very weird and lonely kid” so they decided to buy me a PS1 for me to do something else besides just studying and “mumbling, humming, and hitting things with my hands making senseless noise”. I played for quite a bit and loved it... not because i liked video games in particular but because it was a chance for me to develop my hand-eye cordination and to learn another language (Yes, english is not my primary language, in fact i learned everything i know through video games and music, i have never had a formal -english ed in my city is a joke- or decent class, but i plan to enter one in this year”) I played with that thing hoping to be able to understand everything that was on the screen, understand the music, and be able to hit things as fas and precise as i could (rithym and figthing games). It served me as an escape from the arguments and the screaming of my parents too, another thing that i remember quite vivid is my father and his cop friends being drunk and shooting some guns (that are supposedly for cop use only)... he was too drunk that he ordered me to shoot the gun, i couldn’t say no despite knowing that was such a dumb and clearly dangerous thing to do. I did, but i was so upset that i called another cops, he found out and well... throwed me a cup at my head and ever since... he and I... well our relationship since that day is complicated to almost inexistent (I’ll elaborate more on that later...). 10-15 Years. Despite both of my parents losing their jobs and us as a “family” starting a “family business” -food truck at a flea market- and me having to work almost everyday i managed not only to be the best of my school but also securing a place in the middle school of my choice due to my grades... but most importantly me asking directly to school principal. I felt very happy with this achievement in my life... seemed like i was finally going to escape from various things such as bullies, drugs and such and i WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE ABLE TO TALK WITH SOMEBODY ELSE, to have “friends”, to go out and play and not feel like a total weirdo because of the constant words of my father. Talking about him... he and i drifted away completely... as i grew older and started to voice my opinions a lot more he was more and more convinced and expresed that i was (and I quote) “Not like him,and not his son at all”. What kind of opinions am i talking about? “It’s okay for people to be homosexual, a certain preference (that does not even affect us directly) should not affect how we see or think about those who surround us, being homosexual does not imply that you are a bad or a “distasteful” person... i think that kind of judgments are far beyond race, color, sexual preferences, likes, dislikes, etc. It’s your actions and the way you affect society what determines if you are a “bad” person. This lead my dad to think that i was starting to (in his words...) “transform” into an individual with sexual preferences towards guys, so he immediatly started to talk to me about sex... in such an uninformative and rather rude way... objectyifing women almost all the time and using words like “fuck” or “cunt”. (On a side note, my father is not religious at all, so his (quiet obvious if i must say so...) hate for homosexual people has nothing to do with religion at all... he really hates gay people, he calls them by such horrible and disrespectful names sometimes...wich bring us to the other opinion... “I dont really see what’s the point on being excessively rude with words, I don’t see what’s the point on cursing so much, wouldn’t be better if we could talk and express our thoughts without the use of such pointless words? wouldn’t we sound better?” This led my father to believe that i was giving him orders. And as a result it deteriored our relationship even more. And then... the final straw. I started to voice my opinions on how he treated my mother and women overall. I was starting to defending her if you like. He obviously didn’t liked that and this lead us to so many arguments and fights where the phrases “What the fuck do you know about life” “What the fuck do you know about women” “You don’t know anything you don’t even have any friends, you don’t even have anyone to talk to” were pretty common. Despite all this i loved him and i was hoping he someday would start to change, not even for me or for my mother... but for himself. His words obviously hurted me so bad everyday, i cried... a lot. And crying for him was a weakness and he didn’t hesitated to say it whenever he saw me crying over one of our figths. Our allegattions got to a point were i didn’t even tried to say a word... i just was listening to his words and i didn’t even cared... thus i stoped talking with him. There’s where my mother started to genuinly worry about me, because i always looked so tired and beatdown, she started to talk to me a lot more and whenever i returned from school she always asked me “how my day was”... i don’t know if it was too late or what... but it felt werid, like it was forced or something, so i just said the strictly neccesary. I started middle school and things were different for a change... The whole zone was different, there were guards, there was order and “peace”, also the guys and girls over there seemed different... like they had interests and did some other “cool and interesting things” like sports, playing an instrument or things like that. I loved that. And for once in my life i felt quite at peace, but i couldn’t talk with anyone. I didn’t knew how to do it, i felt anxious all the time and i had nothing in my head... “just do good in school” “you are returning to your home regardless...”. Fortunaly for me there was just one guy and one girl that were somehow able to go trough the mix of my insecurity and me not talking at all... i don’t know what they saw on me or what lead them to talk to me... one ended up being my 1st girlfriend (trough 12-14) (i don’t talk with her anymore due to how things happened...) and the guy as of today remains my best friend. That girl was very special for me... She was my introduction to so many new things. Trust, actively talking with somebody, a lot of new stuff (music, sports, knowledge etc) that i was totally ignorant of, sex and of course “love”. I GOT TO OPEN A VERY BIG PARENTHESES HERE. (Yes, i know that those things might seem totally rushed for a 12 year old child, and yes, i do agree, in fact if i could i would do things totally different, but i think i did things like i did because i didn’t had a good guidance, i didn’t had good advice per say, i didn’t even knew how to act or what to say... i just kinda went with the moment with the best of my judgment and the logic that i had, do i regret it? maybe some things, but others taught me valuable lessons at such a young age. Do i think it is right for a 12 year old to get introduced in such things as sex, “LOVE” (*big laugh*) or such complex topics as those? Absolutely not, i wouldn’t want my kids to experience those things. Now i know that i might sound super ridiculous talking this way about my 12 year old self, maybe i didn’t word things like i do now back then, but the feeling remains the same. So yeah.... back on. This girl and i developed a quite unusual relationship, mainly because we understood each other so well (his dad died because of alcohol poisoning and her mom was the only family she had) so as soon as i heard her story i could relate, i had this feeling that i should protect her, i didn’t quite knew why, i just felt it, and so we became “very close friends”. The time moved on and she helped me to get out of my shell, to start talking with more friends, we spent so much time together alone doing homework or listening to music just laying in the floor in her house, because her mother was working and my parents thought that i was with my other friend (wich they got to know, but as of this date they don’t know a thing about this girl) The things in my house were just falling apart, to the point were i made up excuses like “i have to do extra homework” in order to be as little as possible in my house and more around my friends and her. Despite all this i still maintaned excellent grades and i was still very participative in extra curricular things in my school such as poetry, music and such, but it was around 12-13 were something started to feel weird, i started to gradually lose interest in school and started doing it “just because i would get into serious trouble with my parents if i didn’t deliver them good grades” and that feeling was growing stronger and stronger, to the point that i was in a bad mood all the time, i once again stoped talking with everyone except this girl. This thing got into my head so bad that i yelled at my biology teacher (wich was my favorite assignment) one day without any apparent reason and started crying desperatly in his arms as he was trying to comprehend why i was acting like that all of the sudden... he asked me “Are things in your house ok?” And i just didn’t respond. That day something snapped in my mind. I’m not quite sure what, but ever since that day all i can think about is how the things that surround us, everything and everyone, all the words, all the actions, all that we see and hear, from music to tv, everything that we are exposed to... how those things have such a big repercussion in how we act and feel and mostly who we end up being in life. Time passed and to sum things up... i got my heart broken. The girl ended up being with somebody else (i don’t like the word “cheating”) And end of story. This is where i found out that i could be very extremist with people that let me down, to the point were i just... pretend that they are dead and that’s it, nothing more, nothing less, i end up denying any kind of relation-story and existence of people that have let me down, in fact, this is the first time that i talked about her “in depth”, with other times just being a “yes i had a gf before...” “Yes, i’m not a virgin” “Yes we were such good friends” and the “tragic story about how all ended”, to my friend and inevitably to my next Gf. It does take a lot to let me down though, i don’t tend to hate on anyone, i like to respect everyone as much as i can, all their ideals, their decisions, preferences and such, but when somebody hurts someone without any reason... without even saying a word, without even caring about how much it could affect somebodys life... i just lose it, those type of people are not worthy of being called “humans” because humans are not supposed to be like that, not even animals are like that. This obviously added up to the issues in my house into my head, made me feel not wanted or not worthy at all, without even an explanation of what i had done wrong or anything like that, it was painful, yes it was, but at the same time the thought of “this was your first time, this was just your first love, it was obviously not going to work out” remained in my head... the thing is... i do know that things are not supposed to work out the first time... but it wasn’t the fact that didn’t work out what messed me up, it was the “how” things ended up not working out what really affected me. Either way, it cost me a lot to got over that but thanks to a couple of friends and a new hobby i got introduced to thanks to one of them (drums) i could do it. Fast forward to the end of the second year of middle school and there i was.. Still being the best in the school, but without any kind of fullfilment or sense of actual pride for it, not even doing it for the sake of “learning” or enjoying it. -Even though it never got clinically confirmed or anything like that at that time (mainly because my parents never had interest in therapy/dental care plus we couldn’t quite afford it at the time) i think i have been suffering from severe depression from that point up until this day (were i can now say that yes, i’m seeing a neuropsycologist and im under treatment)- Thing’s got way worse when i broke my wrist one day playing football outside in the flea market where my parents and i went to work on the weekends, i took that day “off” and started to play football with some random strangers in an open field, i fell off and landed badly and broke my left wrist... i quickly went back to the food truck with my parents expecting to leave as soon as possible because my “S” shaped wrist... But no, they told me that i had to wait 2+ hours until they finished some stuff... and yes... i waited there, in pain and trying not to scream my lunges out. All that was going trough my head was “I’m not going to be able to practice the drums ever again”. But then a random thought poped in my mind, it made me very angry and turned all my pain into straight up burning anger and discomfort and yet again numbness and it goes like this... “WHY AM I WAITING TO RECEIVE ATTENTION FROM MY PARENTS FOR A BROKEN WRIST, IS IT REALLY MORE IMPORTANT FOR THEM TO WAIT? SHOULDN’T I BE THEIR NUMBER ONE PRIORITY AT LEAST NOW? 2+ passed until i was finally receiving some medical attention, the rest is history, that injury rendered me useless from practicing guitar (it’s not that i can’t play it, but it hurts a LOT) and i stoped playing drums due to a mental block that i self imposed in my brain. I felt so bad that whole year i was in a cast, that was my first birthday that i didn’t feel like celebrating, in fact that was the start of me feeling certain aversion or repulsion towards my birthday, i spent that day alone, just listening to music all day and laying in my bed. 15... That age marks the age that i had my first beer. Why? I don’t know. I certainly didn’t do it because i was feeling ok. Like i previously said... my dad was an alcoholic, i’ve seen how it can change somebody so quickly, making them senseless pieces of meat or straight up useless sacks of organs. So let’s just say that i’ve always had a certain depiction of alcohol in my brain since i was a little kid... it’s bad and there’s nothing benefitial about it... sure it can help you to socialize with certain kind of people but yeah... it’s not my thing, i even used to call beer “the devil’s piss” when i was a little kid... So how on earth that very fabric of myself got broken that day? Easy. I wasn’t feeling alright, i felt like i wanted to cease to exist or just go to sleep and never wake up again. Even my friends (who were super cool about me not wanting to drink a drop) acted very surprised when i just grabbed a 40 and chugged it all without even hesitating. All of them asked almost at the same time... are you ok? I just responded yeah, i just wanted to know what is it about it that you like it so much,nothing else. One of my best friends (who knew just a fraction of the things that were happening at my house and how i felt overall just looked me in the eye and prounonced a sentence that i think i will never forget: We both now why you are drinking... and it’s not the way.) I just kept drinking. And so i started (without knowing) to be an alcoholic at the age of 15. I was known for being a “tank” a term i think is associated with how fast can you drink or something, i don’t know. But something very weird happened, i never got a hangover, i never passed out, i never even went to bed, i just remained silent watching everyone sleep and once again getting lost in my thoughts, istarted to have problems with my sleep schedule some days only sleeping 2 hours, and i was not longer spacing out... i was straight up “blacking out” (having episodes or lapses of time were you don’t remember what you were doing or saying)and i started to have delusions of somebody following me, started to talk with myself as if i was another person and overall just drifting away slowly. 15-20 years. ************************************************* It’s been 4-5 hours since i started writing this stuff. It’s exhausting to say the least. I’ll cover up this time-span some other day... It’s the roughest i think, especially last year. If someone actually reads this... thanks for your time, if you want to say something feel free to do it, whatever it is. Do know that I’m in a “not so bad” place right now. I’m still dealing with some old and some pretty new stuff (that is actually the reason why im creating this thing in the first place...) but the point of all this is for me to get to know me a little better, re-learn from myself and my mistakes and hopefully improve with my life from now on, i certainly don’t want to feel like i’m feeling right now forever. And if i feel this is “something i need to do ™” (hahah) to make me feel better, then so be it... I’ll do anything to feel happy for once. But as of right now I’ll go to sleep. ...Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem...

#introduction #introductory post #my life #beggining #tumblr #psicologia #psycology #vent #thoughts

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years ago

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Surprising Insider Realities Of Being Trans In The Military

This morning, we all woke up to see a major shift in U.S. Defense Department policy released via our president’s Twitter TAGEND

Donald Trump/ Twitter

Trans Beings Are 2-3 Eras As Likely To Provide As The General Population