#ill try to find better dividers later

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, slight verbal ab*se

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

A/N²: I am not a medical doctor. Please, forgive me if my knowledge of any of the mentioned medical conditions is incorrect.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Walking into the room, my heart was crushed even further. All of the feelings I wish I could explain; I couldn't. Terry and his bags were gone. I hadn't even heard him leave. He didn't even care enough to at least say goodbye. After all these years, I wasn't worth a goodbye. Two seconds just solidified that this relationship wasn't worth any more of my energy.

I couldn't understand it. How did we get here? Had he always been like this? Was I that blind? I guess I was so busy trying to find love that I forgot the most important rule— love wasn't supposed to hurt. Then again, every version of love I've experienced was painful, manipulative, abusive, and damaging. So, maybe I found what I was familiar with. I mean, why else would I be so comfortable putting up with this?

But, what do I do now?

*2 hours later

The room was covered in crumpled and torn pieces of notebook paper. I have tried and tried to write this letter. My hands were stiff, and my head was throbbing. I just wanted him to know how I felt because my mind was already made up. I'm done, and this is over.

If he would've just listened, we wouldn't be in this predicament. If he hadn't said those words, there would still be hope in my eyes and love in my heart.

Better yet, fuck this and fuck him. He doesn't deserve a letter. This doesn't concern him anymore. I've already changed my flight for tomorrow morning. I leave on the first flight out. Since I no longer have anything to say to him, there is no need to wait. I can return to the West Coast and be at home with my Godmother and Godsister when I receive the news.

*The next day

“I will never like flying’. I don't care!” I said stepping out of the bathroom after showering. I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt. I had wrapped a scarf around my head to protect my hair during my shower.

My Godsister, Shante, was waiting for me. She was relaxed on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her satin black bonnet and black fluffy robe made her look so much like her grandmother. “What?” she asked turning her head towards me. “You look like Nana Elsie!” I laughed into my hand. “Shut up!” she said slinging one of the pillows at me.

I walked to the bed and sat on the edge closest to me. I was tired. I knew why she was in here. She wanted to make sure I was okay. Honestly, I wasn't. My life was shit right now. Leaving Terry was just another stab to the heart. All I could do was pray to God that I didn't lose anymore. I couldn't possibly see myself being any lower than this.

“You wanna talk?” Shante asked rolling on her side facing my back. “Not really, I just wanna wait until they call,” I said solemnly. My shoulders were beginning to feel heavy again. I didn't want to think about what the doctor would say. I already knew this day was coming.

After years of medical neglect and misdiagnoses, I was finally given a proper diagnosis of both endometriosis and PCOS. I had been ignored for years when I complained of a forever-growing mountain of signs that something was wrong. I was told to “lose weight” to alleviate my symptoms. When I lost the weight, nothing changed. Some symptoms even seemed to get worse.

I had grown tired of all the referrals and guesses. I had explained to my original primary care physician years ago that I suspected that I had PCOS. It was dismissed as anxiety and medical hysteria. I tried again with three other physicians to be met with the same fate— try to lose weight, take this metformin, exercise daily, change your diet, etc.

This could have been treated years ago if someone would have just listened.

*3 hours later

I was in the kitchen eating when my cell phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was the call I had been dreading. I was eager to get this over with. Just say it, and let's move on.

“Hello, this is Bella,” I mumbled into the phone. I was on the edge again. Trying my hardest to breathe and stay calm. “Bell, where are you?” asked Terry. “Terry?” I asked pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it. Fuck! Why didn't I look before answering? Why didn't I block him?

“Bella, I'm s—,” he started to speak before I interrupted him. “Save it. I… I don't care anymore,” I said through tears. “Bells, I was—,” he started again. “No,” I said sobbing into the phone. “Could you just—!” he yelled into the phone. That was it. I didn't have to deal with this. I hung up the phone and laid it on the table in front of me.

Pushing the plate away, I laid across my arms crying with my head down. My Godmother and Godsister were both gone to work. That left me alone once again with my emotions— all of them.

ring ring ring

Not again. I picked up the phone in anger. “I don't want to talk to you!” I screamed into the phone. “Isabella? It's Dr. Moore. We need to speak about scheduling your surgery immediately,” he said in a startled tone. “I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. I'm having a…,” I said taking a deep breath. “I can call back if—,” he said. “No!” I blurted out. “Sorry. Please, tell me now,” I whimpered. I was flying between emotions faster than my body could manage.

“Well, honey. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news at this time, but we're going to need to remove your left ovary. The cysts were quite large, and… Unfortunately, the biopsy indicated they were cancerous. The safest option is to remove the affected ovary and all endometriosis deposits. Later on, we can discuss any further changes,” he said. “Changes?” I questioned while sniffling. “If it progresses any further, we may have to perform a hysterectomy.” Dr. Moore continued to talk, but I had dissociated from the conversation. This was it.

My mind was overflowing with questions. Will I be able to have kids? Would this even get rid of the cancer? If it did, would it come back? Would life ever be normal for me?

I don't know. I'll probably never know.

*Later in the day

ring ring ring

Hours had passed since the call ended. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I had planned my whole life around me and Terry's relationship— kids, a house, a minivan, a dog, all of it. Now, everything was gone. Maybe my mother was right, I am cursed.

ring ring ring

“Who is it?” I sobbed into the phone. “It's me, Bella. Baby, can you please just listen to me?” Terry pleaded over the phone. “Why, huh? What’s there to listen to? You said everything you needed to say,” I yelled. All of my feelings were being overshadowed by my anger.

“I didn't mean it, Bella. That wasn't supposed to happen. I love you. You know that!” Terry yelled. “I don't know that, Terry. If you loved me, you wouldn't have said it. You meant it with all your fucking heart. You stood on it when you left without saying a word. No goodbye. No sorry. Nothing. That's not love,” I blurted out. I was beyond tired of holding my tongue. “Stop being so fuckin' childish right now and use your brain. You're always so damn emoti—,” he said cutting himself off. “Nah, say it! I'm too fucking emotional, huh? Ain't that right, Terry?” I screamed again. Tears were streaming down my face falling onto the kitchen table.

“I’m always sick, and… and I'm… I'm always emotional. That's what you… that's what you said, right? THEN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH ME?!” I screamed as loud as I could. I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Good. No more phone calls. No more doctors. No more — Terry.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

@insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini

@nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @poektiou624 @gwenda-fav @nayaesworld

@ittsstephanieee @beenathembo @blyffe @thegreatlibraryofalex @persethegawd

[deathblacksmoke]

Dramamine—Part 5

Interlude: Nick & Jazz

Pairing: Nick Ruffilo x OFC (Jasmine/Jazz)

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

!!!PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!!

CW: motor vehicle accident, description of major bodily injury, character death, self-harm/violence, deeply painful angst

*Content warnings will be updated by chapter*

Word Count: 1.9K

Taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm / @monotoniscreaming / @agravemisstake / @iknownothingpeople / @cookiesupplier / @jiizzy / @bngurngheart / @signs-of-ill-portent

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

Author's Note: I'm so sorry please forgive me 🤍

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

2017

He hears her before he sees her—the boisterous sound of her laughter echoing through the record store. It brings a smile to his face, widening further when he looks in her direction to find she’s alone at the small book display, flipping through one and laughing to herself. 

He feels so typical and uninspired when he thinks it, but he’s sure she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. She’s remarkable, but so effortless, too, in sweatpants and sneakers and a long black pea coat, long dark hair splayed messily over her shoulders. He longs to know everything about her, but averts his eyes instead, returning to his browsing.

Their paths converge some time later in the rock section, right around the ‘M’, and he feels like a creep when he can smell her—like dove soap and doublemint gum. There’s a warmth radiating from her that he’s unsure if he’s imagining, but it heats his skin when they reach for the same record and her hand brushes against his own.

She pulls her hand back quickly like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. He takes the opportunity to pick the record up and turn to face her. She looks to her feet with a small smile before glancing back up, a blush painting her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

He wants the record, but he’s never been one to deny a pretty girl.

“You can have it,” Nick tells her, holding the vinyl out. She takes it from him gently, like it’s a trick he’s playing and she has to be extra careful. “If you tell me about your favorite song.”

She rolls her eyes and he's sure he’s in love with her. He has half a mind not to call his mama and tell her all about her future daughter-in-law once he leaves here this afternoon. 

It’s not a trick question. He really wants to know.

“It’s not a trick question,” Nick says. “I really want to know.”

She tilts the record forward to look at the track listing on the back. He worries for a moment that he caught her buying a gift for a friend—she doesn’t give a fuck about Modest Mouse, and she doesn’t want to be bothered by this weird man in the record store when she’s just trying to enjoy her Saturday.

“Okay, don’t judge me,” she starts, and Nick settles immediately, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I know it’s a boring answer, but I really like Dramamine,” she continues, scanning Nick’s face for a response. He nods, prompting her to keep talking. “It’s like finding a photo of an old friend you haven’t spoken to in years, or accepting death, or lying on the floor of your childhood bedroom, or—” she pauses, shaking her head and laughing to herself. “Have you ever noticed how it actually sounds like motion sickness?”

He hadn’t noticed, but as he plays the song to himself in his head—she’s a smart girl.

“That’s my favorite, too,” Nick settles for instead, holding out his hand to her. “I’m Nick.”

She takes his hand readily, smiling softly at him. “Jasmine.”

It suits her.

He lets her buy the record, allowing himself to be delusional and deciding it’ll just become part of their shared collection one day anyway.

He leaves the store with something much better—her phone number. He calls his mom to tell her all about it on his walk home.

2019

“Can you stop unpacking and come relax with me, please?” Nick asks.

She’s been running around the house for hours, trying to get everything in perfect order. Their house.

She floats through their new space so beautifully. He can’t wait to share everything with her—a kitchen, a bathroom, a closet, a bed. He can’t wait to wake up next to her every single morning, even the early ones. No more goodbyes on Sunday evenings.

“Hold on, Nicky, I’m looking for something,” Jasmine responds. Nick props himself on an elbow, laying on his side and admiring her as she digs through boxes. When she finds what she’s looking for, she makes a pleased little sound that cuts straight through him, speeding up his heart rate as he smiles at her. “Here it is. Remember this?”

He told himself he would make it part of their shared collection one day. 

“Yeah, Jazzy, I do,” Nick responds, chest tightening pleasantly at the memory of that cold Saturday afternoon in his favorite record store. “Put it on and come lay with me, honey?”

He curls around her when she joins him in bed, resting his head on her soft tummy. She runs a hand through his hair and he closes his eyes. He feels himself slipping away to sleep as the song plays, her fingers stilling in his hair, no doubt exhausted herself. The hand moves to his cheek and he can feel her warmth radiating through the both of them. He wraps himself around her tighter, getting as close as he physically can.

Traveling, swallowing, dramamine—

He never wants to be anywhere but here, with this girl who makes him feel so safe. He wants to keep her safe forever, too.

2021

He’s getting a little tired of these double shifts—coming in at open and staying until close. He comes home bone-tired, sleeps for a few hours and does it all again. It’s agonizing, made even more so when he remembers that he’s done it to himself.

He feels bad for Jazz more than anything. He knows that she’s been feeling neglected, and he wishes he could tell her why. He always tries to reassure her, but he isn’t so sure it helps. It’s only for a little while longer, though. He’s almost where he needs to be.

He got his shift covered tonight. He feels too guilty to leave Jasmine all alone for dinner for a 5th night in a row, so he has Jesse coming in for him at 6.

I’m off at 6 tonight, Jazzy. What do you want to do for dinner?

It’s close to time for him to leave when he gets the chance to look at his phone again.

Won’t be home for dinner, sorry.

It’s a tone so unlike her that his stomach twists uncomfortably. He doesn’t blame her—Nick shouldn’t have expected her to be home by herself on a Saturday night without knowing ahead of time that he’d be home early.

He should have told her earlier on, but he wanted it to be a nice surprise.

He was looking forward to a night in with her, and with the promise of no Jasmine when he gets home, he almost wants to call Jesse and tell him nevermind. They haven’t had quality time in what feels like ages—he feels so guilty. Their house feels empty without her.

His heart drops into his stomach when he steps through the front door of their home, finding it half empty.

Almost as if Jazz had taken all of her things and left.

He stands paralyzed in the entryway for a long while, pointedly avoiding the handwritten note he sees lying on the coffee table. Somehow, he thinks this would hurt a whole lot less if he didn’t understand why she would do it.

It seems unlike her to leave without warning, but he can’t begin to imagine how she’s been feeling. An unintended consequence of working so much to save up for them is that she’s been left so alone, and he wishes he’d thought of that. He wishes he had listened to her when she asked for him to cut back—that they were doing okay right now—but he put too much faith in how much she can take.

She’s so strong, but she shouldn’t have to be.

His instinct is to call her, but he should hear her out first. He trudges into the living room and picks up the note. The words he finds written in her pretty scrawl make him ache.

Nicky, I know I shouldn’t do it like this, but I know I wouldn’t be able to go through with it face to face. I love you, but I deserve someone who puts me above working themselves sick. When you’re ready for that, you can let me know. Love, Jazz

He looks to their listening setup, their vinyl collection thinned significantly, with one glaring exception. Sitting atop the turntable is the Modest Mouse record, their record, as if she’d played it one last time trying to change her mind and left anyway.

It’s hers. He wanted her to have it. She should have taken it with her when she left.

She shouldn’t have left.

His mind swims when he tries to decide what to do, whether to call her now or give her time. If he calls now and begs for her to come home, she isn’t going to buy it. She’ll think he’s panicking and feeling rejected and he doesn’t mean it.

But he does. He needs her home.

He has his phone in his violently shaking hand, about to press the call button, when another call comes through.

“Mrs. Pierce, hi,” Nick says, voice cracking embarrassingly. “Is Jazz with you?”

“Sweetheart…” Jasmine’s mom starts, the only thing he truly processes before there’s a whooshing in his ears and his entire world shatters.

She tells him that Jazz has been in an accident. She didn’t make it.

It’s worse knowing that she didn’t die instantly. He thinks of his sweet girl, crushed and terrified, and it takes all of his strength to stay upright. He wishes it had been him.

Mrs. Pierce extends her apologies as if she isn’t going through worse, losing her daughter so young. Nick promises to visit her tomorrow and when he hangs up the call, his head pounds and his vision narrows.

He can’t keep himself from doing it when he screams at the top of his lungs, a blood-curdling OH, FUCK no doubt reaching the neighbors’ house—the police will be here any minute if he keeps this up. He smashes his phone, grabbing anything he can reach and smashing that, too. 

This is Jasmine’s house. She is what made it a home, and if she’s wrecked, so should the house be.

His fist meets the brick wall of their living room time and time again until his fingers and knuckles are bloody and mangled.

He doesn’t have the wherewithal to wonder how many stitches he’ll need. He has nowhere to put all of the anger he feels and will continue to feel as long as he has to live with the knowledge that he could have prevented this.

He should have told her that he had his shift covered tonight and would be home early to take her out for a nice dinner. He should have told her that he was working so many doubles to save for the engagement ring he knows she’s been eyeing, the pretty emerald cut garnet ring with the white gold band.

She would have told him to cut back, that she doesn’t need anything fancy. He knows her well enough that he should have known that, but she deserves the best.

She would have been home if he had just fucking told her. She would still be here.

He stares at his hands, sure to scar and decides it’s what he deserves. He’ll never let himself be happy again, because he promised to keep her safe and she can’t be.

[cascadianights]

"Mental illness and neurodivergence aren't a physical disability" for SOME minority of people that is true! For the rest MAJORITY of people you're spreading the same gaslighting the worst doctors do when they tell you to exercise your way out of crippling anxiety!

"The brain isn't an organ/isn't part of the body" Wrong! I don't know how else to explain this!!! Wrong!!!!!!

"Mental illness/neurodivergence doesn't affect the body or physical ability" Are you??? A real person who's lived on this planet??? Are you being fucking for real with this??? Neurotransmitters and hormones affect EVERY SYSTEM IN THE BODY - in a panic attack your digestion is shut OFF, your whole body is burning energy and going through extreme duress. Depression and fatigue come hand in hand, and not because it's "all in your head." Not being able to leave your apartment for a week due to agoraphobia or schizophrenia affects every single part of your mental and physical health. Not being able to eat for a week because of exteme nausea (physical) from anxiety leads to the same shitty symptoms as if you couldnt due to not being able to physically prep the food (also something that happens with severe mental illness). Not being able to be in the moment or focus because of OCD and intense intrusive thoughts, not being able to concentrate enough to even read or process what's happening, you think those things don't in turn effect hormones and neurotransmitters and how you FEEL and how much energy you have remaining after being on high alert using every square inch of focus just to understand a conversation and communicate? You don't think emotional pain compounds and adds to physical pain and vice versa??? You don't think there's a reason Autism and ADHD have a million physical comorbidities that can be directly connected to living in a state of constant stress, organs shut down, brain and other organs in your body literally not producing the right chemicals or functions - IBS, CFS, stroke, heart attack, diabetes. Why can some of you understand being black or trans in America leads to direct physical health issues and Disability from the constant stress and gatekeeping and lack of resources, but not YOUR LITERAL ORGANS MALFUNCTIONING AND ORDERING EVERY OTHER SYSTEM IN YOUR BODY TO DO SO AS WELL????

The brain is an organ. The brain is one of many many systems affected and interconnected in mental illness/neurodivergence. Severe mental illness and neurodivergence are a full body disability. Full stop. Period. Excluding us is to exclude parts of yourself, it's cutting off the parts of yourself the doctors gaslit about your disorders in order to feel better, it's lateral violence, it's a false barrier since if many of us didn't start w "real physical disabilities" we will have them as a direct result of our mental ones within years. It's nothing but a way to falsely separate yourself from mentally ill and neurodivergent people, and WHY ARE YOU SO ///DESPERATE/// TO DO THAT??? What of those reasons don't come down to self hate or hate at the way doctors and others treated you or just fucking petty intergroup violence you refuse to accept as such based on an author from 50 years ago and some salty Opinions on other people's lived fucking experiences?

Nevermind how many people with mental illness and neurodivergence have other major physical disabilities and try to find community, and are greeted with constant constant separation and DNIs and assumptions? Literal attacks on people with mental illness cast as activism. Do you think your petty divide is WORTH the thousands of people seeing and feeling that immediate rejection of a place that should welcome them w open arms? "They talk over us" HOW MUCH OF THE TIME ARE YOU BLAMING AUTISTICS FOR BEING ANNOYING AND NOT READING THE ROOM INSTEAD OF YOU OR A MODERATOR COMMUNICATING??? AND HOW CAN YOU TALK OVER PEOPLE AT THE SAME LEVEL AS YOU???? Its false fucking dichotomies and lateral aggression and turning the harm done to you on others. That's it. I'm tired of people pretending it's flat out anything else.

[astrid-sama]

Labyrinth of white roses (Effie trinket x fem oc)

Chapter 1)

The harvest

I wake up with the warmth of the sun's rays caressing my face, it's a rare event, usually if I want to sneak away without anyone seeing me I'm forced to get up when there's still the moon in the sky, at first light dawn in district twelve everyone is already at work; today, however, everyone is exempt from work and people sleep late trying not to think that tonight at least two families will mourn the loss of their children.

Today the annual harvest is held, on this day a boy and a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be chosen from each district to participate in the Hunger Games, a deadly game from which only one tribute will emerge alive. At school we kids are taught that the Hunger Games are there to ensure that the Dark Days are not repeated, in reality they are just another way for the Capitol City to assert their dominion over us.

I get out of bed, put on my hunting clothes, kiss my brother on the forehead being careful not to wake him and leave the house as quietly as possible. I arrive on the main road and after making sure that there is no one around I head towards the fence; during the journey I feel my stomach growling, it is normal to be hungry here in district twelve and that is why every day I leave the fence to go hunting, putting my life at risk, between dying of hunger together with my brother and being hanged for betrayal by the peacekeepers I choose the second, it is the least painful option. At the fence I find my friends Gale and Katniss waiting for me, we have been hunting together for more than four years now; the fence should be electrified but here in the twelve there is almost never electricity, one at a time we crawl under the fence taking advantage of a point where it is damaged. According to the Capitol, the fences surrounding the districts are there to prevent wild animals from attacking us, but I think they're there to keep us locked up.

We enter the woods, retrieve our bows and hide among the vegetation waiting for prey to hunt. After almost an hour we have captured three rabbits and a squirrel, we go to hide our bows in an old hollow trunk and start looking for fruit and medicinal herbs; when we have finished the sun is higher in the sky and it is probably just before midday. Before leaving the woods, Gale, Katniss and I take a break sitting on a rocky ledge.

-Girls look what I have here- Gale takes a loaf of bread out of his bag, it seems warm and fragrant, few people can afford such bread.

-But this is real bread! Gale where did you find him?- Katniss said as she grabs the loaf of bread.

-The baker gave it to me in exchange for a squirrel-

-Just a squirrel?!-

I can't help but wonder, the baker is a good person but usually a squirrel isn't enough for a loaf like that.

-Today is harvest day, we are all better-

Gale divides the loaf between the three of us, we eat in silence until Katniss asks a question.

-How many nominations do you have?-

-Thirtyfive-

-Twentyone-

Under normal circumstances a seventeen year old like me should only have five nominations, I have so many because I was forced to trade them for food; my father became ill when I was twelve and died when I was fourteen, but my mother died soon after my brother was born so I found myself having to support both myself and my brother and was forced to apply several times in exchange for food, Gale and Katniss are in the same situation as me.

A few minutes later we set off to return to the enclosure; once we return to the district we go to the black market to barter: we exchange strawberries with the mayor in exchange for a bag of legumes, we exchange the squirrel for matches. After leaving the black market, Katniss, Gale, and I wish each other good luck and part ways.

When I arrive home I find my brother waiting for me, he is dressed in a pair of green jeans and a white shirt, his long black hair is tied in a braid and his green eyes shine with happiness when he sees me.

-Welcome back big sister, how do I look?-

-Elia you are handsome, I bet you will make everyone fall in love with you-

Elia blushes and looks away.

-Big sister it's almost time for the harvest, you should go and change-

I nod, I go to the bathroom and quickly wash both my body and my hair, after drying my hair with a towel I put on my best dress, a light green dress with small white flowers and finally I put on some old brown boots. Elia insists on tying my black hair in a braid like his, when he's finished we go to the square to take part in the grape harvest.

As soon as we arrived we immediately separated, I joined the seventeen year old girls while my brother joined the fourteen year old boys. After all boys and girls eligible to participate have been registered, the harvest ceremony begins; first of all (like every year) the mayor goes on stage and begins to read a long speech in which he explains how the Hunger Games are our just punishment for having rebelled against the Capitol seventy-three years ago; after what seems like hours the mayor finally concludes his speech and gives way on the stage to the Capitol emissary who has the task of escorting the tributes of district twelve to Capitol City Effie Trinket.

-Welcome to the seventy-third edition of the Hunger Games, may luck always be in your favor-

Effie walks very enthusiastically towards the glass bowl containing the pieces of paper with the girls' names written on them.

-As always ladies first-

Effie slowly dips her hand into the glass bowl, pulls out a piece of paper, and returns to the center of the stage; in the seconds preceding the reading of the name of the tribute there is absolute silence.

-The female tribute from district twelve is.... Selene Davidson-

All the girls turn to look at me, some look at me with pity, others with relief. My hands are shaking, my body seems to have turned to marble and even though I know I should go on stage I can't move.

-Darling come here-

Effie Trinket smiles at me and calls me to the stage. I force myself to move and slowly advance towards the stage; I'm trying to hold back the tears, I can't seem weak. Capitol City is watching me.

-And now the male tribute-

I watch Effie take the piece of paper with the name of the male tribute and hope that the name is neither Elia nor Gale.

-The male tribute from District Twelve is... Alexander Morgan-

Alexander is a fifteen year old boy with curly red hair and a weak physique, you can clearly see how terrified he is; once he gets on stage he starts sobbing.

-Now a big round of applause for our tributes-

Nobody claps their hands, silence is the only act of protest allowed. After the harvest we are taken into the courthouse and given some time to say goodbye to our friends and family. I'm sitting on a velvet sofa when the door opens and Elia comes in, hugs me and starts sobbing with his head resting on my shoulder. For a while we remain hugged without saying anything, then Elia dries his tears and begins to speak.

-Win big sister and come back to me, I know you can do it-

-Elia I-

-No Selene don't say you can't win, you are an expert hunter you know how to use a bow and knives perfectly and you also know both edible and medicinal plants-

-You're right, I promise I will do everything to come back-

I try to sound confident but in reality I don't think I have much chance of returning home, after all what can a weak little girl from district twelve with a bow (if there is a bow) do against a volunteer from district one who weighs twice as much as she. A short time later, peacekeepers arrive and take Elia away and let Gale and Katniss in in his place. We hug each other, resigned to the idea that this will be our last meeting.

-Guys remember the promise we made to each other, don't let Elia die of hunger! Take him with you into the woods, teach him to hunt, please don't abandon him-

Some time ago the three of us had made a pact, if ever one of us was chosen as a tribute the others would be taken care of by his family.

-Don't worry, we'll take care of Elia, you think about winning-

-Certain-

A short time later the peacekeepers took Katniss and Gale away, I was escorted out of the courthouse and taken to the train that would take me to the Capitol City.

This is the first chapter of my fanfiction "Labyrinth of white roses", I will publish all the chapters of the fanfiction on Ao3 with the name "Labyrinth of white roses".

These are my fanfiction characters created with artificial intelligence:

Selene

Elia

Alexander

[lordgrimwing]

On Glorfindel and surviving the Helcaraxë

Crossing the Helcaraxë is not easy. Hard does not even begin to describe the enormity of the undertaking or the torment of the Noldor upon the ice. When they reach Middle-earth, when they finally step off that barren waste dividing Arda from Aman, they are changed. Their families and friends back home might struggle to recognize them: they wear thick furs, crudely stitched together with sinew; their hair lays long and limp, dull in the sunlight and fragile in their hands; their bodies are thin, worn down to pallid skin stretched over the bones of their faces. Yet in their eyes, a pale light gleams, the light of the trees shining out of them, sustaining them just one step further.

The Sindar looked upon them with awe. These tall elves with features sharp as a blade, who did the unthinkable and crossed the endless ice desert, mighty and powerful.

Things get better in Middle-earth. They have food now and their waisted bodies fill in again with muscle. But the land is at war, and they are at war with a great darkness that crushes down on them at every turn. Conflict keeps them lean, keeps all but the barest layer of fat away. Gone are the soft curves and full faces they wore in Aman.

Years roll on. The other peoples look upon the Noldor—the fiercest fighters—the bravest warriors—the most skilled crafters—and cannot help but admire them, even if grudgingly at times. Among the Sindar, first to see them in their glory, a fashion slowly grows for slender bodies, prominent cheekbones, and sharp eyebrows.

For some, crossing the Helcaraxë changed more than their bodies. They looked after each other on the ice, called out dangerous patches, fended off strange predators, and always shared what they found. Either they all ate, or no one did. If there was not enough food for a mouthful each, they gave it to the weakest. Anyone caught taking more than their share or trying to hide a small animal they caught was swiftly punished. Even after centuries in Middle-earth, some of them cannot set aside what they learned in the bitter cold.

In Gondolin, and in truth long before then, Glorfindel makes a name for himself. Turgon sets him as a lord, and he bends himself to the duties as loyally as he had to any task given him. As a lord, he takes part in ceremonies and celebrations. He laughs with the festivities and always leaves the high table as soon as he can without giving offense after eating. He finds a guard of his house who for some reason or another must stand watch throughout the night. With nods and words of encouragement, he sends them away to be with their friends and takes their place. Standing guard is quiet and dull for nothing ill troubles the hidden city, but he cannot bear to sit longer near the tables ladened with food after he’s taken what he needs. The Gondolindrim know him as the golden-haired lord of the House of the Flower, noble and kind and always among the first to leave a feast.

He is in good company, though, as Ecthelion follows a few minutes later, waiting just long enough to not appear to flee.

In Valinor, Glorfindel does not recognize the body the Valar give him. It is foreign to him now with its curves and soft cheeks that rise into his eyes when he smiles and laughs. Only the faintest traces of his face look back at him when he gazes upon his reflection. But the body is warm and comfortable despite the foreignness, and deep down, something in him almost recognizes and remembers how it felt to wear this form in distant, tree-lit days. It is nice in a way he has not felt in a very long time.

There is some confusion after Manwë sends him back to Middle-earth. Those who did not know him in his first life, who heard only the stories, believed him to be the noble lord and balrog slayer returned. Those who’d seen him in life—and the pain in his heart is sharp when he realizes those he counted as his friends are no longer in that number and all fell while he lingered in Valinor—express doubt at first for he looks so very little like the elf they recall. It takes little time to show them he is who he claims to be: Glorfindel of the House of the Flower, Envoy of the Valar to High King Gil-Galad.

If any still hold some small doubt hidden in their hearts, it is erased by the end of the Second Age, for Glorfindel looks just as he did in Gondolin.

[definitelynotshouting]

hihi ok ok a lot of thinksies incoming

the fact that grian realized he was drawing on everyone while he was asleep and decided to not sleep and ended up having a panic attack and accidentally amplifying scar and xisuma's feelings to the same level its like.. living with a mental illness. you can't be passive and ignore it (which for grian would mean sleeping and hoping he can just *not* do it) but you also can't be aggressive and try to get rid of it (which for grian is not sleeping) you just have to learn to live with it and have it not harm you or other people (which he hasnt found yet)

+ i am loving that we are seeing more of his memories from being with the watchers but not as a flashback but in parallels from present to past (+the past repeats itself) + also your similies/metaphors are delicious "To skirt past the edge of death and fly, a blind and unwitting moth, toward the bright, unspoiled future", "a creeping, crawling notion that the world no longer makes sense, fits poorly around one's shoulders. Like a worn, childhood coat, stained with the devastating loss of innocence" and "he's pressed a knife to every promise he's ever made since the day he emerged, digging into sinew until each fitful thread snaps. His existence lies in the shadows of these distorted fractures, jagged hopes and dented dreams, forever fated to cut his hands on the fragments. Holding them together has never been a permanent solution; all it ever does is make him bleed." to name a few + HEHEHE IMAGINING MUMBOS IMMACULATE MOUSTACHE

also i might just be vibibg this but i think out of everyone tango feels a sort of parental obligation to grian. hes worried he'll stop breathing in the night, he gets him out of his room, he beams when grian smiles. pearl and mumbo have the sort of betrayed sibling feeling, scar is still trying to hold everything together and xisuma is harbouring the guilt of being the guy who kicked him for the good of the server because they were also good friends. tango has ideas of what is good for grian but being peers ig? also doesn't want to go over what grian wants too much. tango is a little more divided from the others, hes here for jimmy and grian getting better extends to everyone else in their immediate party and further back to hermitcraft and to jimmy and joel and lizzie and everyone

"this would all be so much simpler if nobody cared. But they do, because they're good people" this. this is so bhersnfkksd cause im no stranger to suicidal thoughts and its spot on but then ALSO grian attributing it to their being good people rather than his friends and his saying "they're good people" as if he isn't a good person is so telling in his self loathing

"He senses more than sees Tango level him with an appraising look. As if Grian is a redstone problem in need of solving, of only finding the right tinker to make him function again." i love this. the dynamic of one cahracter being techy/handy in some way and wishing they could fix someone because its so much harder making a person ok again

also also it is so important to me that scar can recognise grian's needs as having wings and can say that they haven't been taken care of and are probably uncomfy but grians so wallowed in his self hatred and refuses to allow himself fundamental upkeep

+ TANGO VOICE IS DELICIOUS

"Grian hesitates. It's somehow both sooner and later than he'd thought he'd have, but… he can make it work. He has to." gODSS he doesnt want to go quite yet because hes suddenly reconnected with these people he lost and it would've been so much easier if he had never reconnected with them in the first place but its so hard to want to die and then be faced with death because all of a sudden you're thinking about that cake you'll never get to bake and wishing death came before you thought of baking a cake

+ tango is our like relief character ig? he doesnt bring all the same weight and its so amazing because a) i love tango b) hes able to be lighthearted and joke and hope and its so necessary with everyone else drowning (even if no one can really tell scar is falling apart)

"Despite the distance and heartbreak between them, Grian knows how the hermits work." MAN. the way he can tell where people have walked and what theyve done, its such a cool mechanic + i giggled a bit knowing Scar made the doorknobs of copper he has a very healthy diet of it /silly

"Tango gives him another one of those long, appraising looks. Then, before Grian can unclench his jaw to ask, Tango pulls back altogether, bringing his other hand up to twist the cork. It frees from the bottle's mouth with a musical plop, and without the faintest twitch in expression, Tango smoothly offers it out again." THIS!! its sad because in a way you know tango hoped grian would be able to open the bottle himself at some point but its also sweet because hes willing to help and take care of grian until that comes

+ grian relishing in the loneliness. sometimes it is just such a privelige to let yourself be sad or lonely for a bit. dont know why

as always its been an absolute treat to read your writing!! boy this is a long one.. thanks for feeding us :P

-🍁

I cannot come up with a coherent response to this rn but !!!!! Please know i am so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ abt this omg!!! This is so sweet and i love love love seeing analysis of my writing it just makes me so excited to see what you guys pick up from it :] this made my night omg thank u

[vexia]

Thinking about the Rescue Bots AU in which Cody was raised by Morocco:

They live on an uninhabited island in the Atlantic Ocean.

Due to Morocco's dangerous experiments, the island is divided into two parts: home and laboratory.

Cody spends most of his day (and life in general) in the home section, being homeschooled by specially programmed artificial intelligence.

Cody almost never meet humans beside his father’s closest allies, so the only kid in his age he knew until Griffin Rock was Priscilla (and all things consider, they get along quite well).

This is Cody of course, so he couldn't be himself if he didn’t meet and adopted Cybertronian. So of course he has one! And once again it’s ours (or maybe only mine XD) favorite grumpy panther, Quickclaw. As in other incarnations, he can change his size,  become invisible and use holoform to disguise himself as a Alaskan Malamute to always stay close to Cody.

Cody suffers from the hyper-empathy syndrome, so whenever he is away from home or around other humans, he wears earphones that have been specially developed by Morocco to isolate sounds and modify them accordingly to limit their potentially negative impact on the boy.

Despite his illness, he is curious about people, their traditions and life. She enjoys visiting new places and observing the lives of ordinary people. He reads a ton of books on the traditions of individual cultures and their history.

He loves and cares for his father, he is the only human family member he knows of (he also treats Quickclaw as a family member). He had a great respect for him (even though someone can mistake it for fear), trying everything not to disappoint him (even if Morocco’s standards are quite high).

He is very good at languages. In addition to English, he knows 8 other languages: Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, German, French, Arabic, Russian, Portuguese, Hindi and is still trying to learn more (Quickclaw teaches him the Cybertronian language). Morocco often uses his talent to translate things for him, and Cody is happy to be useful to his father.

Cody enjoys drawing and singing (and he is pretty good at it). Whenever he sees flower/animal/thing he finds interesting, he draws it on his tablet (on which he also keeps a journal where he writes down his thoughts on every topic).

His hair is usually tied in a bun but regardless of his hairstyle, he always has a pin in his hair, which is his only memento of his mother.

He inherited almost all of his appearance from his mother and he treats every comparison to her as a compliment (because according to his mother's stories, she was a beautiful and wonderful woman).

Thanks to Quickclaw's presence, Morocco has a better knowledge of Cybertronian technology, so his robots are more advanced than in the show + they are powered by Energon, which is located in the basement of the island (Quickclaw helps to look for it, because he needs it to survive after all).

With basics like this, let’s cover some events at their first visit on Griffin Rock:

Morocco first arrives at Griffin Rock after the Rescue Team rescued Professor Anna Baranova, so not much later than in the series (and Frankie knows about Bots being an aliens). Morocco's plan remains essentially the same as in the series but he brings Cody along with him to show him where his mother lived before she died.

After their arrival, Morocco allows Cody to go to the Blossom Vale to look at some flowers or whatever (he doesn’t really care, he only tells Cody to come to the town hall around 13.00 and no to wonder around the main part of the town to this time).

He is accompanied by Quickclaw in the form of an Alaskan Malamute, reaching almost to Cody's shoulders (and it looks kind of funny).

While sketching the landscape he is noticed by Frankie who was collecting plants from Blossom Vale to her school project.

Frankie looked at the boy near the waterfall. She believed she didn’t see him before on the island. His long, golden hair tied up in a bun covered on of his eyes. But the other was clearly visible. Gray. The girl had never seen person with this color of iris. She had read that it was one of the rarest color human eyes can have. He was wearing an elegant, long, light gray suit jacket that accentuated his eyes. The red accessories matched the red stones that were visible against the sunlight in the jewelry pinned into her hair, though she couldn't get a good look at it from this distance. He was clearly sketching something, snuggled up in the fur of the dog lying right behind him. If it weren't for the dog's darker accents and that red jewelry, she probably wouldn't have noticed the boy in that fur in the first place. His mouth moved sometimes, probably talking to his dog.

She took few steps ahead. She wanted to talk. He looked like a really nice person and it was a rarity to see someone new on the Griffin Rock, especially in her own age. She came closer and closer. The dog raised its head and looked at her with narrowed eyes. Yet it didn’t do anything. Only observed as she approached them. Yet, the boy didn't seem to notice her.

“Hi!” Frankie finally said, getting close enough for the boy to hear him.

He looked at her, clearly surprised by her presence. He scanned her for a while, almost immediately  smiling afterwards. “Hi.” He answered, little awkwardly.

“Can I?” She asked, pointing her head at the dog. The boy needed few seconds to understand what she meant to say.

“Yes- Yes of course. He won’t do anything.” He confirmed and his dog lowered it’s head, reassuring his words. Frankie sat down near, in front of him.

“I’m Frankie.” She said. “And you are?”

“Cody. My name is Cody. It’s nice to meet you.” His smiled grew little wider. It felt so right to know each other’s names. He only introduced himself and she already had that feeling that he would be a very good friend. Like they were destined to be friends…

Cody tells her that he came here for a vacation with his father (even though his father came for the business reasons).

They talk a while about hobbies and Frankie tells him a lot about entire island, her family and the famous “Family of Heroes���.

When she ask Cody to tell him something about his father, their conversation gets cut by Boulder and Graham, who came to look for Frankie.

As the bot took one step closer, Quickclaw became to growl. It was clear to Boulder that this dog hated him, even though he didn’t knew why. Every other animal on the island liked him and he would never threaten Quickclaw’s owner. He didn’t get it. Boulder observed as Cody petted him on the base of the neck.

“Shhh, calm down. It’s alright.” He hummed and the dog's growling began to slowly subside. “He seems like a nice Bot.” He added, looking into Boulder’s optic. The last comment felt so strange, like the golden haired knew he was- “Are you Cybertronian?” He asked. Frankie and Graham exchanged nervous glances.

Frankie tries to come up with a quick lie saying that this is a robot created by her dad.

Cody pretends to buy it because he doesn't want to upset someone he's just met and gets along with very well.

When Cody says he's going to meet his father at the town hall, Frankie offers to walk him off and promises to show him around Griffin Rock. He happily accepts her offer.

When the five of them get under the office, rivalry between Rescue Bots and Morbot was already set.

“What are waiting for Doctor. You get your deal, now get lost!” Kade shouted, visible angry at this entire idea. Competition with a stupid machine. Laughable .

"Have some respect, young man." Morocco said looking at his pocket watch. It's 1:00 p.m. "I'm just meeting someone." He looks to the side, smiling after seeing approaching group. "Oh, there you are!" He said in his characteristic, theatrical manner.

While the others took the curious look at the boy Morocco was pointing to, Charlie looked like he had seen a ghost.  It was impossible. The blond and his dog got closer to the Morocco and Doctor delicately put the boy on his head, rubbing his hair and saying something to him. Charlie didn’t hear what they were talking about, froze in place.

“Be nice son, introduce yourself.” He encouraged Cody, putting his hand on his shoulder. The boy simply nodded and turned his face towards the gathering.

“I’m Cody Morocco, it’s pleasure to meet you all. Especially the famous Family of Heroes.” He smiled, bowing gently.

Chief was able to take a closer look on the jewelry holding his bun. Silver hair stick with the figure of the haw at the top end, with a crescent moon and a sun above its beak. A long chain protruded from under its wings on both sides, at the end of which were comets with two tails. Their center and hawk's eyes were filled with rubies. He could recognized it everywhere. It was a gift he gave to his dead wife almost 15 years ago. It was impossible. If Cody had it that would have meant-

“Is everything alright, sir?” Boys voice got him out of his thoughts. He looked into his eyes. Even though the irises color was different, Charlie could see the familiar softness and kindness in those eyes. He gingerly shook the boy's outstretched hand, skin equally delicate, exactly the same shade. It was her son. Their son.

“Yes Cody. Everything is alright. Thanks for your concern-“

"Forgive him for his meddling, Chief Burns," Morocco cut in, placing his hand on the boy's head again. "Cody has a natural ability to sense people's emotions. Unfortunately, he sometimes has a problem with tact." Even thought he tried to make his voice as gentle and playful as possible, the clear growl could be heard.

In that moment, Frankie didn’t envy him in the slightest.

(…)

“Goodbye! ” Cody said in Cybertronian language and waved to the Rescue Bots. Along with Quickclaw entered the elevator, which took them to the balloon. The bots just stared at each other in shock.How did this boy know their native language?

.

.

.

This is all I have for now. It's much longer than it was supposed to be. Maybe I will write something more in the future, I will see. If you have any ideas, don’t be shy and share them UwU

PS.: This is what the hair stick Cody wears looks like:

[katsudondom]

I need to vent, sorry

long post incoming :)

↓

Yeah, I feel that I was born in the wrong generation

And no, I don't think I'm special or anything for saying that.

Like, do people think I want to feel like an outcast whenever I'm around a group of people that are the same age as me? Because I'd trade my interests and niches any day if it meant I could finally feel what it's like to have a group of friends by my side, or a partner holding my hand.

And yes, I do have many criticisms about certain aspects of modern technology and social media, but I don't downright hate it or dismiss the good that came from modern technology/the Internet entirely. If anything, I'd love to be born when the Internet was just starting to walk, when it wasn't as popular yet and when you were considered a nerd for even owning a computer. That'd be an amazing time to be alive, until "normies" (cant find a better word sorry I know it's cringe) started making the Internet more mainstream and later on it being the #1 reason why Americans are more stupid and self-centered then ever (in my personal opinion).

I'm more so disconnected with my generation because of the culture, not modern technology.. A generation where we believe in anything without doing any research or seeing different perspectives first, a generation that's easily brainwashed into believing anything, a generation that's so sure that their opinion is right that they'll even ruin someone else's life or ridicule them into oblivion just because the other person thinks differently. That's the reason why I feel like I don't belong with my generation, not because "ew social media".

Actually, that's not the whole reason why-

I also really just love the grunge/rock culture of the 90's, and the scene/emo culture of the early 2000's. It all felt like a community back then, like wherever you were at there'd be people accepting you with open arms, no matter who you were or what you looked like, ready to have you join their clique people that just liked the same shit as you do.

Nowadays, there doesn't even feel like a community anymore, even within your own culture. Everyone's divided, everyone's prejudice, and everyone can't put their differences aside and at least co-exist with each other. This "you're with me or against me" mentality is getting old real fast. Instead, let's have thoughtful and provoking conversations with each other, instead of being quick to go on social media and wishing ill to the white kid in your History class just because he wore a red hat that you happened to disagree with.

Idk, it's all just really silly.

I was just scrolling down watching YouTube when I saw a video calling people like me who think they're in the wrong generation "annoying" and I had to vent since it actually triggered me a bit, ngl, because just by looking at the thumbnail where they put a bunch of modern technologies and had "modern" in bold letters with the word being crossed out, I knew what points they were going to make, and I just needed to vent about how not everyone who feels like an outcast is trying so hard to be different.... It's 99% the complete opposite and I just always hated that stereotype from people who obviously have it way better in life, from people who clearly don't understand what it's like to be almost invisible even when you try so hard to be liked/seen to the point where you fantasize about a time you weren't even born in because "what if?".

Shit, I'm done, needed to get that off my chest and the only way I'd feel good about it is by posting it online. Scared to put tags on this because half of the criticisms about Gen Z that I wrote about relate to about 99% of Tumblr users, so I might piss someone off but fuck it, I want my voice to be heard and no one will probably care to read this anyway.

And yes, I know there's other teens/young adults out there like me, who has the same mindset as I do. I don't think that I'm the only special snowflake that feels this way, but it's so fucking hard finding someone who sees the world the same way as I do, that it does make me feel a bit like I am the only one.

Anyway,

Goodnight 🖤

[twilightmalachite]

Cruise - Survival 1

Author: Akira

Characters: Natsume, Sora, Tsumugi

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofers: rui

"…Now, how does Sora build a house?"

Season: Summer

Location: Tropical Island Sandy Beach

⚠️ This chapter is not yet JP Proofread!

Natsume: …SiGH.

I'm at a loSS, there's really nothing we can dO. At minimUM, I’llcontact ES and have them come collect us as soon as possibLE. FortunateLY, my smartphone seems to have signAL.

Tsumugi: Ah, yes, you're right. Let's contact our agency as soon as possible.

And also… Before the sun sets, it’d be in our best interest to put together a place where we can rest for the time being, right?

Sora: Hmm? Why? Aren't we going to get picked up?

Tsumugi: We are. But even if we contact ES now and their rescue team hurries on over, it'd take at least three days, or even a week, depending on the policies and procedures.

In situations like this, it's better to assume and prepare for the worst-case scenario.

Sora: Haha~! Understood! Sora will do his best, then! How can he help?

Tsumugi: Let's establish the bare necessities and divide it between ourselves. Fufu, Sora-kun's positive attitude sure does save us. Right, Natsume-kun?

Natsume: ……

Tsumugi: Natsume-kun?

Sora: ? Shisho~? Is Shisho~ okay?

Tsumugi: Are you tired? In that case, please go rest in the shade, Natsume-kun. We can take care of the rest.

Natsume: No, it's okAY. The heat's just making me a bit tirED… I'm alrigHT, and I'll help out tOO.

Tsumugi: Hmm… If you say so. But if you ever feel you're not, please take a break, okay?

Alright, let's split the work…

Sora: HiHi~! Alright, Sora's going to work hard to build a house!

……

…Now, how does Sora build a house?

Hmm~, Sora's stumped~. He isn't a carpenter, so he has no house-building experience. Ummm~…?

Ah, got it! First, he has to figure out the floor plan~. Sora can draw on the beach with this wooden stick! ☆

HuHu~, then if he stacks big stones up like bricks along the lines, he can make walls~!

So if Sora does that… From here~… to over here will be the living room we can all gather ‘round in~…

And here's the kitchen~… Where should Shisho~, Senpai, and Sora's room be? Hmm~, this is hard~…

Tsumugi: Let's see… Ah, this block of wood seems to be dry, just right. Now I just need a thin wooden stick… Oh, this one here should do.

Hmm~… I've seen them do it on TV, but is it really possible to start a fire like this…?

Well, might as well give it a try.

Thirty minutes later…

Tsumugi: Haah… Hah…!

I can't do it…! Not a single puff of smoke! How in the world did our ancestors go about starting fires!?

Hah~… I guess I really am too old for this, huh~? My arms are heavy from fatigue.

Ugh… And on top of that I'm sticky and uncomfortable…

Ah, ow! Sweat got in my eyes…!

How come it has to sting so badly? …This is no good, let's take a small break.

…Hm? Oh, it's a little crab.

Fufu, the little white pattern across its red body reminds me of Natsume-kun~. I feel a sense of kinship. Nice to meet you, Crabtsume-kun! ♪

Oh! It's holding both its pinchers up~!

Umm… Does it want something? A handshake, maybe? My hand is too big, so here, I'll use a finger…

Agh!? Why are you pinching me!? Ow ow ow ow!?

Please let go, it hurts~!!

Meanwhile…

Natsume: SiGH… I was told to look for something that we can use as foOD, bUT… Where on earth do I begIN…?

On the beach you'll find nothing but dried-up seaweed scattered aboUT. WeLL, in a pinch I suppose this can be edibLE…

(HmM… I'm sure there's lots of seafood in the sEA, bUT… I have no clue how to catch any without fishing geAR.)

(It's when things like this happen that you're able to truly realize how much we benefit from the convenience of modern civilizatiON.)

UgH… So hOT… And I feel it's just getting hotter and hotter into the afternoON.

Ahh, now that I recaLL, didn't Senpai mention that you can fall ill during the hottest hours of the dAY? No doubt about thAT, this heat really is unlike any othER…

But either wAY, food won't just come to me if I’m only waiting around on the beaCH, so I have to figure out some other way to secure soME.

← prev | story directory | next →

[thattallqueerbassistresources]

What to Take Notes On For Your Fanfiction (and how to do that)

Outline

A roadmap, a reminder, and a reference.

This is arguably the most important one. If you have a start and end goal, even if its vague or a "wherever the words take me", its good to know where your plot points are, any moments you want to build up to, or something you want to foreshadow.

It can also be used as a quick reference for what you've already written. A sentence per important detail, event, or realization for instance, can help you know what you've already introduced, at what point, and in what order.

2. Characters

We all know and love them, but how well are you portraying them?

This can range from making sure you're keeping them consistent to canon, consistent within the fic, accurate to their voice, or just being able to know their relationship with the other characters and the world that you're writing.

My favorite way to do this is to have a quick physical description with as few words as possible, a summary of their past, their close relationships to relevant characters, and then a list of their common sayings, vocal tics, and phrases. For example, a character I want to write more often says "Hello? Is someone there?" into the fog. Like, 'multiple times an episode' often. This helps me be more accurate to her, and her voice.

You can also make note of their motivations, their bonds, their flaws, their fears, whatever you think is most relevant to that character and that story.

3. Important Details/Themes/Patterns

When you want something to be a recurring theme, you want to make sure that you both remember to make it reappear, and that its in the same vein as you meant it originally.

If you have a theme of water, or fire, or light, make a list of descriptors and metaphors that will work with those that you can then use later. You can save one phrase for referring to a particular character, or use the same type of words to describe something the pov character doesn't know how to. Having this written down somewhere you can access it easily may be very helpful if you are including any recurring themes or patterns.

4. Alternate Universe Details

Again, this is for consistency. You want the world to feel stable and real, certain in the facts about it.

You can write all of it down first, or make notes of what you throw in as you go, but it will all be useful to reference when you get to that point of "oh, what did I say about this thing?" because you won't have to read through 10k, but instead find it in a specific place.

5. A list of better words and phrases

This will help you greatly in the editing process, by giving you a quick reference full of similar or better words, phrases, and sayings to switch your duller or ill-fitting ones out for.

This is not one I've used, however, a friend of mine has a physical binder that they use as reference, and it has many many different sections they have divided it up into. It works very well for them, and I think that its worth a try :)

Side Note: All of these can be used for just one fic, or a series. However, I would advise that you keep everything in separate docs, and keep track of your progress in google sheets or a similar application.

[sereniv]

Hi hi !! I understand and know that they’re wrong but it definitely doesn’t hurt any less and I honestly don’t think it ever will. Even outside of the native community I still feel like I have to fight for being soulaan(African American) and am constantly hated for it. I don’t know anything about rez dogs? (I think that was the name) but I wasn’t bothered about the show itself just the individuals spewing anti blackness and such hate and dividing peoples identities when they wouldn’t like it if they were also dissected.

The one drop rule and blood quantum has done irreversible damages to both communities so I don’t understand the dismissiveness of other ndn people. I’ve heard other a.f(afro-indigenous) people disconnect and stray from the culture because of it and first I thought I understood but now I think I really get it. Their words really sting. I know that they spew nonsense because of what they have seen white people do and some inherently uphold lots of other white colonist mindsets but knowing you have to fight your own people for acknowledgment must have really hurt them. I can’t imagine being denied of my black identity I think it would make me feel like I lost a part of myself.

Also thank you so much for opening up a safe space for me to be able to communicate it feels like I’m confiding in a older sibling and in spirit is very relieving. I just want to make it known that I greatly appreciate you. I only have one other indigenous person to talk to but they’re Taino and I also feel very fake talking to them because they seem to be very dedicated to their culture and I feel like maybe I shouldn’t talk to them when I’m barely even reconnecting. I know they probably wouldn’t feel that way but the anxiety still eats at me you know? -🦪

Man i feel a range of emotion for you. I feel sad and angry for you for what you have to deal with, and also happiness because im glad you feel that way about me and i enjoy talking to you.

It just sucks, to put it way too simply. You should feel welcomed and loved, and you are to me. And i wish there was a way to carve out a safer space to talk to other afro indigenous ppl, and i want to say real life spaces are better but idk.

and despite them being wrong and despite them being bigoted youre right, i mean no amount of trying to ignore it or "logic" it away takes away from the fact that youve seen it or heard it.

You are right to be upset and hurt. And you are right to feel conflicted. Its all racism and its all abuse.

And its hard to say, everyone is different. ive seen people full native born on the rez be very welcoming, and ive seen the opposite.

And i understand too the standoffishness because of pretendians, but at a point its like youre just driving away people who arent.

You deseve to be heard and understood because you are doing nothing wrong at all.

I wish i could give you a hug (if wanted). And just let me know if you ever want me to find some afro indigenous people, forums, etc.

Just let me know in a seperate message that i can reply to later

Also ill make a post because i think there are some afro native ppl on tumblr? i cant remember if someone i follow is

but ill pin the post so you dont have to like it to save and out yourself ❤️

[harsh003]

Reimagining the Future of South Asia Amidst Historical Divisions.

One became the mother of democracy in India, where the rape of women is still not fully investigated, corruption is high, and law and order is bought with money to this day. Any woman even in modern India today probably scared to report her rape.

“This part of the world was considered as wealthy as Europe as back as 1500’s. We were a good host to Mugal invaders and then followed by the British East India company.

Millions of people died to obtain the birth of a divided India on the 15th of August 1947.

Millions more died trying to leave what was a home for a new home under a new sky.

MThis was India Sky, Pakistani Sky and later to become Bangladesh Sky. Yet we have forgotten that Sky is only one and it cannot be divided.

We left the horrible occupation for freedom for which we were ill-prepared.

The birth of India and Pakistan was built on the bodies of immigrants.

One became the mother of democracy in India, where the rape of women is still not fully investigated, corruption is high, and law and order is bought with money to this day. Any woman even in modern India today probably scared to report her rape. She knows too well that she will be interrogated by a Police 10, Police Senior, DCP, Press, and lawyers. She will be virtually ripped apart so she probably thinks no point in reporting.

Mother of democracy but really we are not as we are divided on caste, regional biases, language bias, religion, and yes we are independent. Many argue with me that at least we ar in control of our own destiny. I don’t agree with this destiny which takes us to an unknown path.

India is known for thousands of years as the land of learned people, peace-loving, law-abiding people.

How is corruption rampant in India? How will anyone get justice? Not possible unless you have money and connections.

We have achieved some economic progress due to some of our policies instigated in 1970 and 1980.

Pakistani where shall I start, it is quite close to being labeled as a failed state. It was formed yet again by two people Mohammed Allam Iqbal and Mohammed Ali Jinnah. It was supposed to be a Muslim household and a democratic one. Democracy in Pakistan never flourished and the institution of the army always had an upper hand in all things

In the beautiful fields of Punjab, the Deseret of Sind was never allowed to belong to the workers.

Landowners controlled the masses and hence wealth did not move much to the workers.

Pakistan means Pure Land but it’s politics is filthy. It was a dreamland for the immigrants but in 1960 it suffered the Bengal massacre which lead to the division of the country. An independent election won by Bengalis was not accepted and led to the birth of yet another country under another Sky!!!

The land of pure is often finding it hard to control its 4 provinces. Lovely people of Punjab are made to fight Sindhis and etc.

Economical it has also not prospered due to lack of education, misunderstanding of the Teachings of Islam, early marriages, etc.

So, in the end, we are worse off than what we were once and worse led by foreigners. We must continue the search for a United India and strengthen the hands of the ordinary people.

We can be the biggest economic market if we still believe in

Breakfast in Dhaka

Lunch in Delhi

Dinner in Lahore

we will have no choice but eventually to come and find a way forward.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In the heart of bustling Mumbai, a vision for a just and equitable world is coming to life through the tireless efforts of Dr. Ahmed Haque, a renowned philanthropist, peace activist, and beacon of hope for many. Founding the Just World Order Federation (JWOF), Dr. Haque is not just dreaming of a better future; he is actively laying the groundwork for it. This initiative, deeply rooted in the principles of justice, equality, and peace, seeks to empower the voiceless, support the powerless, and challenge the injustices that mar our society. Contact Us for more details.

[readingforsanity]

Silent Came the Monster: A Novel of the 1916 Jersey Shore Shark Attacks | Amy Hill Hearth | Published 2023 | *SPOILERS*

Ju

“Sharks are as timid as rabbits.” So says a superintendent of the Coast Guard, dismissing the possibility that a shark could be the culprit in an unprecedented fatal attack on a swimmer at the Jersey Shore. 

It’s July 1916, a time when little is known about ocean creatures, and swimming in the sea is a relatively new pasttime. Americans up and down the East Coast are shocked and mystified by the swimmer’s death. Little do they know that this is only the beginning. 

A prominent surgeon at the shore, Dr. Halsey, after examining the wounds of the first victim, is the only person who believes that the creature is a shark and that it will strike again. But the public as well as the authorities - and even those who witnessed the attacks - don’t believe him. Dr. Halsey finds himself fighting widespread confusion, conspiracy theories, defiance, and outright denial of the shark. 

Seeking the input of commercial fishermen, Dr. Halsey learns that they have long been concerned about a creature they call the beast. The local Native Americans, the Lenape, have their own beliefs as well. 

The shark attacks occur in an already fraught time A brutal war rages in Europe, and Americans are divided about becoming involved. Meanwhile, an unprecedented outbreak of “infantile paralysis” creates widespread panic. Into this scenario, the sea monster arrives. But what is it? Theories range from a huge mackerel to a giant sea turtle, or even a German submarine. 

The story of the 1916 Jersey Shore shark, believed to be a great white, changed the way Americans think of the seashore, reminidng us once again that nature plays by its own rules. 

The book follows the tragic events of the shark attacks that plagued the Jersey Shore in July 1916. We’re introduced to characters, Dr. Edwin Halsey as well as Miss Margaret Atkins, whose perspectives we learn of the events. 

Edwin is attempting to deal with multiple tragedies occurring at one time, including an outbreak of infantile paralysis (polio) on top of the shark attacks. The first victim is a young man from Philadelphia named Charles Vansant. This incident took place on July 1st. Charles entered the water shortly after arriving at the Engleside Hotel on the shore with his family. He died of severe blood loss prior to anything being able to be done for him. Dr. Halsey examined the body, and having dealt with sharks before in his past during the Spanish-American War in Cuba, began alerting authorities of the attack hoping to shut down the beaches. 

Despite his best efforts, the beaches remained opened, and a few days later, on July 6, 1916, the second attack occurred on a man named Charles Bruder. He was a bellhop at the Essex and Sussex Hotel on the shore, and was well-liked by everyone. Despite efforts to save him, Mr. Bruder also succumbbed to his injuries. Edwin once again examined the body and this time, wanted to take more of an effort in order to alert the proper people. However, nobody was taking him seriously. 

It isn’t until a man is observing the water and comes across the shark himself that people begin to take the threat to human life seriously. Prior to this, people believed the attacks were being carried out by a giant sea turtle or giant mackerel. But Edwin knew better. He began trying to find out more information on sharks, though they were scarcely studied in 1916. 

In the meantime, Margaret is dealing with the heat in her small town of Matawan. As a school teacher, her job never ends and on top of her responsibilities to her students, she is dealing with her mother’s mental illness as well, though this isn’t truly described in the book other than her having melancholia after the deaths of her twin sons several years before due to the measles virus. 

Margaret is engaged to a young man named Stanley Fisher, who works as a tailor despite his father’s best efforts to get him to work on the sea. Stanley is adamant that if the US goes to the war efforts in Europe, he would join them to due his due diligence as an American citizen, which leaves Margaret with worry. 

On the day of the third attacks, that take place on July 12, the small town of Matawan is rocked. Not near the coast, but 11 miles away, the shark ends up in the small creek that surrounds the town of around 1,600 people. An old sea captain attempts to warn the townspeople, but nobody takes him seriously, believing that he was out in the sun too long. The day before, the shark had been present in the waters, as a young boy named Lenny was cut up by the skin of the shark, though nobody knew it at the time. 

On July 12, a young boy known for seizures, was believed to be drowning in the water when a group of young boys that were swimming in the creek, come running naked into the streets to let them know that Lester had been taken by the shark under the water. Several men, Stanley included, enter the water to attempt to help the drowning boy. Stanley is able to get a hold of him, but the others begin trying to get him out of the water when they see the shark. Unfortunately, Stanley becomes the fourth victim of the shark. Dr. Brewster, the town doctor, wants to bring him to Dr. Halsey. However, there is nothing to be done and Stanley’s last words are of his fiance, Margaret. 

Margaret doesn’t handle the news well, having been at the site of the attack when it happened. A fifth victim, a young boy named Joey Dunn, nearly got eaten by the shark but with efforts from his older brother and a friend, were able to save him. 

Shortly after the Matawan attacks, Edwin meets with a man who is known as a big game hunter as well as taxidermist who also keeps exotic animals in his home. Edwin meets him at the docks, and despite not wanting to, ends up joining him on the water while Schleisser. The two of them encounter the shark, and with both of their efforts, are able to kill the beast. They bring the shark back to the docks, where it is weighed and then Edwin accompanies Schleisser back to the Bronx to open it up and find out if there are any human remains inside. 

There are, as it is believed a piece of Lester Stillwell is in the stomach of the female shark. Schleisser later stuffs the shark, and it is mounted for display inside of a storefront. 

Edwin, along with his daughter, go to meet Margaret to pass forth the last words of Stanley, which brings her a sense of healing. And then the three of them, along with Mrs. Atkins, Margaret’s mother, go visit the only survivor of the attacks. Later, Joey moves in with Margaret and her family while he recooperates, as his family lives in a fifth-floor walk-up in the Bronx. 

Two years after the attacks, Edwin has retired from surgery, instead choosing to become a professor of surgery to teach the young minds of medicine. Julia, his daughter, has gone to work in the war effort as a nurse in Europe, and his housekeeper, a dear friend named Hannah, succumbed to the Spanish influenza, along with her sister, only three hours apart. Margaret has married the friend of Stanley, which everyone saw comin except for the two of them, and Joey continues to stay with the Atkins family. 

Edwin later goes to meet with a man called Old Timer, who tells him that though he believed he killed the Beast all those years ago, that he had saw it a week before, and it was still out there. Edwin goes out to the sea, and tells the shark that it has won. 

This is the first fictional story written on the events of 1916. Both of the characters of Edwin Halsey and Margaret Atkins are based on real people; Edwin on a doctor that worked at a hospital in Long Branch and Margaret on the real-life girlfriend of Stanley Fisher. The victims are all real victims of the attacks, including that of Joey Dunn, who was the only survivor. 

While several nonfiction stories were written, the author wanted to write the story from the perspectives of those who were actually there, using actual stories from the attacks using newspaper articles and books from the past. 

It was well-written, and my fascination with sharks continues, especially after the events of the Matawan Creek. My belief, despite there being no definite answers on what type of shark it was, it was a bullshark as they can go into fresh water as well as saltwater. Bullsharks have even been sighted in my state in the Midwest (Illinois) in the past. 

This was definitely a 5/5 read, and I would recommend this to anyone who has an interest in sharks, and the events of 1916 in general. 

[jenaeswriting]

Pachinko was my read✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ of 2023

Pachinko was my first read of 2023. I was recommended it in the lead up to my trip to Japan by Tom's mum. She said reading it would be a good lesson in history. I am used to novels being fun and silly and non-fiction being serious and educational. Pachinko was like learning through play, like soaking up the sense of place on a through pictures. Pachinko was a trip through 20th century Korea and Japan. A period defined by flashpoints, World War I and II, civil conflicts. A period when places, peoples homes became transformed and cermented in time as battlegrounds. The conflict of Manchuria, or Hiroshima, just that a conflcit, and not a place of culture or identity, or home. This is how I had come to interpret the Korean civil war. Korea a nation today split into the North and South. A side to be chosen. Pachinko begins with a whole Korea, and born into it is hardworking Korean woman Sunja. She flees Korea during its time of Japanese occupation. By the time she can make it back, it is spit and owned by Russian and the West. Sunja doesn't fretabout the wartime, lifeis measured through the food on the table. These flashpoints of named and dated conflicts in Pachinko are not the omnipresent happenings, but were natural like the quiet hums of cars in the distance. Not heard until you are told to pay attention. When Sunja finds financial stability, her working children successful, she realises in her poverty, her nation has been lost, re-occupied and divided. To go home is un-true, her she can never go back. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pachinko was written in 2017 and tells Korean-Japan hostilities from 1911 to 1989. It follows the family linage of Sunja, daughter of Hoonie, a deformed man with a limp and a cleft-lip trying to make a life for himself in 20th century Korea. A hard worker and respected around his hometown in Busan, Hoonie is arranged to marry Yangjin. In the background Korea is allied with Japan through the Second World War. In Korea, there is poverty on the streets and livelihoods of Koreas are largely ignored by the Japanese empire. Money in Busan comes from the Japanese visitors. Quickly into Hoonie and Yangjin's marriage they birth beaming eyed Sunja. A hard worker herslef, she is volunteers at her mother's bathhouse and tends to the clients, both Korean and Japanese. When she is sixteen, Sunja meets a well-dressed man in the marketplace, he speaks highly of his life back in Osaka. He says he is from Jeju. Sunja can hardly believe when he says he is Korean. It is hard to spot his physical differences in such stunning white and clean clothes. He impregnates Sunja but announces he cannot be with her. Sunja is devestated and feels she has let down her mother and father. A Protestant minister Baek Isak stays in Sunja's mother's boarding house. In his ill-health, Baek declares he will marry Sunja to give the child a name and a better life, one in Japan. Sunja, Baek move to Baek's brother's house in Ikaino, the Korean ghetto of Osaka. Sunja knows the name 'Osaka' from the well-dressed man's stories. He spoke of a land full of food and technology and automobiles. In Ikaino, Sunja does not live this life of decadence. Her and Baek squeeze in with brother in law, Yoseb. Baek's brother is is high in the church and his wife Kyunghee a beautiful woman with soft and thin hands. But despite income and proffession or beauty if you are Korean you are sentanced to the ghettos. Rentals are denied to Koreans by Japanese. In Ikaino Korean children roam the streets and farm animals live with residents. There is little choice to ethic Koreans and living with cattle and pigs is a point to be disgusted of. So, Sunja and Beak move in with Yoseb and Kyunnghee and preparations begin for the fifth member of the house, Baek Isak's illegitimate child, Noa, Followed four years later by Mozasu. Noah and Moses. Noa was the most intreging character. He internalised much of the Korean descrimination from his Japanese peers. In tough times, Sunja and Kyunghee make kimchi at home in massive batches to sell at the markets. The smell of cabbage and garlic seeps into Noa's clothes, at school he is called garlic turd. Noa works hard to distance himself from the Korean archetype. He is told Koreans are dirty so he makes sure his shirt never has creases. He is told Koreans are rude so he is unfalteringly polite to a fault. He is told Koreans will not ammount to much, so he studies hard in school, staying back late after class and working into the night. Noa hates being Korean. He will hate being Korean all his life until he kills himself. To be living in Korea, you are destined for a life of hardshp. To move to prosperous Japan you are not offered the food, shelter or oppertunites of natives. Sunja and Noa and Yoseb and Isak do as they Japanese tell Koreans. They do so without ever questioning or oppposing the walls of oppression which suffocate Ikaino. They are generous, never angry at their place in society. It is a stark difference that until this point, Koh Hansu is the only Korean character who has made a rich life for himself. Of course, he is apart of the Yakunza and cannot have what he wants truely, which is Noa and Sunja. It takes Mosazu, Noa's brother, who defies the anti-Korean sentimate and doesn't take interest in conforming to the rules of the Japanese empirical forces. Noa tells Mosazu to study hard, to not get into fights with those who make him angry. Unlike Noa, Mosazu sees the injustice and can understand it is not him who is wrong but Japanese soicety. He befriends another bullied Korean child and further defies pressure to be a good Korean by taking up work at the Pachinko parlour. Mosazu is able to build a prosperous life for his mother and grandmother in Japan. At the end of the novel when Sunja is in her 70s cleaning Isak's grave placing a designer purse on the graveyard floor it is entirely diffferent image from the poverty striken life Sunja endured during her years of early motherhood in Busan and Japan. The book is the first English language telling of the Korean discrimiation in Japan. A histroy lesson, a comment on entrenched poverty, systematic discrimination, internalised hatred. Working hard and hard and hard in a system built to make sure you fail. The ways in which colonialisation and imperialism do not better those captured nations, and how large empire nations wish not to conjoin for joint prosperity but to keep those conquored on the bottom. To be a winner means there must be losers. It was interesting that Sunja immigrated to Japan when Korea was a unified country. There are times when she, or those in her family wish to see back home. But by going home they are forced to choose a side. Prehaps individual like Noa would wish to appease the Japanese, being taught all his life they are the superior race, never speak ill. Noa may be innclined to show his allegance to North Korea. Despite the quest for Korea to be free, Japanese rule is how many Koreans understand Korea. An American or Western south is still not home. Of course, as the years go on this sense of 'home' becomes very vague. third of fourth generation Japanese born ethnic Koreans have never been to their "native" country. How can this be where they are from? And how can they be made to choose a side and feel at peace. So much change occurs yet people wish for you to choose one side of a coutnry and go back to a counntry that is not yours. The Pachinko game is posited as a game of chance but successful Pachinko businesses, as Mozazu's says is about making people hopeful and then rigging the system. Koreans had been promised better lives in Japan, better lives in the north and in the south. Today, this war rages on.

[itzabouthealth]

5 Simple Tips for Weight Loss Success

1. Move More

Exercise makes losing weight considerably simpler, but more significantly, active people are more likely to keep the weight off in the long run. You can start exercising now, no matter where you are right now. Contrasting lifestyle exercise with scheduled exercise is excellent for both. You can burn calories by participating in these two activities. While it’s crucial to fill both categories as much as you can, concentrate on setting aside time each day for scheduled activity. It will be simpler to form a habit in this manner.

How about weightlifting? These workouts require you to push or pull weight using your muscles. They assist you in accelerating your metabolism and swiftly achieving pleasing results. Additionally, you don’t have to be a bodybuilder to benefit.

2. Eat Only Carbohydrates That Are Connected To Fibre

This helps you choose carbs that better support your hunger and nutritional demands while reducing the amount of sugar and white flour (found in pastries, white bread, candy, and juice, among other things) in your diet. Your diet should have more fibre the better!

Fiber lowers cholesterol, helps control blood sugar levels, and lowers your risk of developing chronic illnesses including diabetes, colon cancer, and heart disease. Because you’ll require less insulin if you eat less carbs, such as those found in bread, pasta, rice, desserts, sugary drinks, and juice, if you have diabetes. And that may aid in avoiding hunger, the accumulation of fat, and weight gain.

Legumes (dry beans, lentils), vegetables (brussels sprouts, broccoli, spinach, squash, sweet potatoes), and fruit are among the foods high in fibre (apples, berries, oranges, pears).

3. Eat More Plants

A plant-based diet, according to research, not only helps people lose weight but is also simpler to follow than a low-calorie one. Additionally, it is nutrient-rich and offers a host of health advantages.

Produce aids in weight loss because it contains a lot of fibre and water, both of which have no calories and fill you up so you feel full. In actuality, a Brazilian study discovered a link between greater fruit and vegetable consumption and improved weight loss.

Starting with five daily portions of produce, one should work their way up to seven to nine daily servings. Green smoothies for breakfast, salads or shaved veggies for lunch, and fruit for snacks and sweets are all healthy choices.

4. Make Your Breakfast Better

If you are currently skipping breakfast and still finding it difficult to prioritise leading a healthy lifestyle, a balanced meal that is packed with fibre, protein, and healthy fats will alter your day. By making you feel “hungry” in the afternoon, skipping breakfast may affect your hunger hormones throughout the day, making it more difficult for you to resist overeating or seeking foods high in sugar and refined carbohydrates. Breakfasts that will fill you up, keep you full, and ward off cravings later in the day are the greatest, heartiest breakfast options. For your morning meal, aim for 350 to 500 calories and be sure to include a dose of lean protein and satisfying fat.

5. Eat Consciously

Healthy eating entails consuming a range of foods in moderation — not excluding any food, but also avoiding overindulging in the fatty, rich foods that were once reserved for special occasions. Eat consciously by being aware of your food intake and by being aware of the fundamentals of healthy eating.

Want to eat in a simple way? Divide your plate into three equal portions: half for veggies, one-fourth for whole grains, and one-fourth for lean protein. You’ll be eating healthier and leaner if you try to make the majority of your meals (lunch and dinner, at least).

[autumn-foxfire]

That's definitely a rough position to be in. Who you share your home with and the home itself should be a place of comfort, and feeling attacked by the presence of other people can really ruin that. I'm sorry your home has become like this, and I would love to knock some sense into your brother's gf if I could, but unfortunately since I'm not a professional, I have no idea what the best course of action would be to prevent that growing divide and get her to be more civil. You've got a therapist right? I think? I hope, someone whose been helpful in the advice they give you, it may be best to tell them about these things. Or if you go to group therapy, other's experience might give a few ideas on what could happen in trying to mend things, which choice is better than the other depending on your unique circumstances and the personalities' of whom you're dealing with.

For now though, I will say that your bro's gf is VERY WRONG to use your mental illness as a way to attack you. Mental illness is no different than an ailment of the body, it is of no fault of our own, and that we struggle with them instead of listening to them means we need help, like anyone would go to the doctor or get prescribed medicine when they're sick, they're encouraged to do that even. They aren't blamed for it, they're expected to rest and take a day off. Your situation is no different. The mind is also an organ of the body, we all have a soul, there's two components that make up humans, physical sickness is not the only one. If those non-physical aspects of you are hurting, that is real, that is valid, that deserves recognition and compassion. I see you Foxy, and I know you're doing your best every day, the best that you are capable of on those days, and that is good. Any bit of progress that you feel you make is better than stagnation, it can be the tiniest thing ever, less than yesterday, but it isn't nothing. It's a choice that took effort and that is worth everything. And if you need a couple days to just lie down and be sad, that's fine. We all need those sometimes, can't always be up and go go go- yeah? You need those quiet and still moments. Even the ones where the world feels too heavy so that your cup doesn't spill over later on another day, you need to let them come and let them pass. The fact that you're trying to contribute to the house even with everything we hear you're struggling with is really admirable because not everyone does, you're incredible and I wish you the best in everything and that you can find peace of mind during these times. 💜

Thank you.

I've got a few things I want to discuss with my therapist when I next see them and this is definitely going to be one of them, just to see if they have any advice on how to tackle this situation so I can make my home a better environment for me. We've already discussed how the home needs to be a good place for you if you want a healthier mind and the way it is now, it's not doing me any good.

It's nice to get reminders like this, that people can see I'm trying my best. I need to be kinder to myself but it's easier said than done.