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life-rewritten · 4 years

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True Beauty; Problematic Bullies and Strained Friendships

Can I just say that these two episodes of true beauty have left me again with so much anger and disappointment? I've just spent the last 30 minutes sighing and shaking my head and cursing some of these stupid, frustrating characters. Now it's not even Soojin I'm cursing surprisingly, I have a different bone to pick with her, and a different perspective, but it's everyone in that stupid school, society, just everyone who switched at the end of episode 12. Now I did see it coming, but the fact that it's the same video of Kyung being treated like an animal that is what got them to switch without any morals or understanding, or pity, is so disgusting to me. I'm left cursing all the people who were Kyung's friend, who supported her and then just left her by her self to deal with this because of pettiness and anger that she lied to them. Make it make sense. The characters in this show sometimes act like one-dimensional puppets just doing whatever is the status quo, robotically seeing someone as of less worth because of their looks, feeling cheated for no reason (like she's not even friends with some of these people) because someone 'ugly' is hiding behind makeup, like what? It doesn't add up. Anyway apart from the focus on bullying which I will be breaking down more, I'm glad to see the tag and social media is less focused on the love triangle and more understanding about Suho now, I mean why not, he's a good boyfriend, but what I actually wanted to praise was the depiction of friendship with Suho, Seyeon and Seojun, and Suho and Seojun's journey in reuniting their bond again. It made me cry a few times, and it was very heartwarming. But it's just depleting my energy, even more, when I have to contrast it with Soojin's downfall. Sigh what a depressing reveal as a villain. Anyway, I have a lot of thoughts so let's get to it.

THE PROBLEM WITH BULLYING

What I like about True Beauty is that it does these interesting foreshadows/mirroring to certain situations that the audience will soon see show up. In episode 11, Suho is broken down and haunted by the reveal of what happened to his best friend however the show fleshes out and gives us more information, and depth to Seyeon as a character and the intense friendship between the three boys. At first, I wondered where this flashback would lead us to; however, I started to notice the similarities, the foreboding trajectory of Kyung's storyline in episode 11/12 to Seyeon's own betrayal and downfall.

Seyeon's story of how he became framed by his bullies once they discovered he was famous is so startling and similar to how JK's ruin takes place. She got immensely known and was put in the spotlight, and then because of a bully and someone she calls a friend; she was also framed differently as being someone who she isn't. The same reasons why Seyeon was attacked was because he lied about who he was, he had a lot of people who loved and admired him, and his reveal betrayed them, he was set up because of coldness, callousness and manipulation. This is the same with Kyung by the end of episode 12.

Let's talk about how True Beauty shows bullying as a focus; We have different characters that are connected, affected and pushed to the brink because of bullying. We also have the bullies some surprising; some just disgusting and frustrating, but also society plays a role in this bullying as well. Let's look at the characters:

Seyeon: Framed and Misunderstood

First of all, it's heartbreaking to know more about what happened to Seyeon in the past, and it's even painful to know his story ended. From what I'm getting from his life story, Seyeon was quiet, shy, introverted but I think he also was a bully victim. He changed his name to Seyeon when he moved and found Suho and Seojun, and because of them, he learnt to fall more in love with his passion; music. (This is so eerily similar to Kyung changing her past, also finding her own passion and happiness which is makeup). Now he felt alone all his life before this because he was getting bullied and finally he got his debut as a star, and he managed to become more confident, successful and happy.

The problem is his bullies weren't letting go (like the frustrating harpies of Park Se Mi), they decided to make his life hell, so they posted a rumour, that Seyeon wasn't who he said he was (which might be true, he changed his identity probably to run away from the past) but they also made up more about him, they framed him instead as the bullies, and they twisted his story. Because of their actions, and Seoyeon feeling like his past was brought back, when he ran to Suho to ask for help, he felt like Suho believed the news and broke down in despair by himself in anxiety, probably PTSD and depression and he took his life.

Now let's pause there for a minute because we now know how this affected Suho significantly, but this is how True Beauty emphasises the amount of pain, suffering and anxiety Kyung ends up in, in episode 12. The same heartbreak, the same fear, the same worries, and the same comments and people dragging her down because of her looks. Now with Seyeon, as much as I hate cancelling nature, and social media bullying, the reveal that he was a bully, despite it not being real, I can understand some of the reactions people would have against him because as we're seeing, bullies in Korean Culture aren't cute, they're worse than other bullies, they drive people to take their lives with the extent of physical, emotional and psychological harm they inflict on someone. People thinking Seyeon was one of those people is quite shocking and should be called out; however compare this to Kyung's own situation.

Whilst Seyeon was being attacked for a valid reason from society, Kyung was being attacked for being ugly. Like compare causing harm to people by psychologically and emotionally abusing them to not having the perfect face structure, having acne because you were born that way, like compare that to what Seyeon was being blamed for. Does that make sense? And the frustrating thing about it is Kyung has a right to hide if she wants to under makeup, it's not like people have really given her a choice to avoid taking things this way. The upsetting thing about this is it's not just a picture of Kyung's face that is causing this uproar of feeling betrayed. It's not a picture where she seems happy and safe, and her life is unbothered by these things she has to hide. But it's a video of her being treated as less than a human, a video where she is being taunted and spoken to vilely, a video where she's having trash tossed on her, and she's breaking down psychologically and emotionally. A video where she's genuinely being denounced for being born.

It's unsettling. And it's ironic because Seyeon was being attacked and talked about by righteous teens about bullying and being woke about people who do this, but really society just stands by idly and judge someone because they're ugly. Being ugly is apparently enough reason for why bullying is okay, it's enough because she apparently shouldn't be allowed to live her life how she wants, it's so sick, they'd throw pitchforks at Seyeon for being the bully of people but also turn a blind eye and join in with bullying a girl because she doesn't fit their natural standards of beauty? It's sick. It's unsettling, and it calls out the hypocrisy of people, people who just want to see people lower than them suffer. What gives them the right to speak about Kyung this way? What makes them superior to her? Because they're pretty? Because they don't have acne? Like what is the problem? Why are they so butthurt by her hiding her face with makeup and looking good. I just don't understand it. I'm very emotional about this as you can tell, so I'm going to have to move on, I just wanted the parallel of Seyeon and Kyung's storyline to be noticed.

Kyung; Ignored and Betrayed

Let's focus on Kyung in episode 11/12. She goes through her normal anxiety and worries, and at first, she doesn't communicate her fears to Suho. But I have to say that Kyung was starting to realise that she couldn't be paralysed by her PTSD. Actually, she bravely goes to Soojin to confess about Suho which I was so proud of her for, but she also goes back to save Hyemi from her bullies despite her anxiety and worry she'll get found out. Her concern was valid, stopping Semi was going to put a target on her back, and also Hyemi betrayed her before, so she has every right to feel some kind of way towards her. However, despite that, Kyung stood up for someone else in her position again. And it's something that I love about her, and I think she'll probably find her dream job doing, later on, we've seen her do this with Gowoon and help her come of her anxiety and depression and put makeup on her to get confidence and sing in front of people.

We saw her protect Hyemi this episode; I'm sure that's what she'll do in the future is help girls like her who feel the same broken, fear, and pain at how they were born. She'll be someone who stands up and helps them regain their confidence like Selena did for her. It's really inspiring and wonderful to see her find that passion slowly and make her dreams come true in that way. Kyung helping Hyemi shows her character, and she could have been like these slimy people and try and get revenge or be annoyed at her forever, but she just walks away and lets her be and prevents her from ending up in the same state she was in, in episode 1. The sad, painful truth is Kyung has been proven right, why she was so afraid to trust people, to tell people about who she really was, why she struggled with trusting Suho with the information, people are fickle, and they switch based on shallow things, like appearance, popularity, money etc. Kyung's friends proved to her that she was right to not trust them with it, even Soojin who was meant to be her helping hand sat there (I mean she's the person who caused it) but she sat there and watched Kyung deal with her break down. It's just so messed up.

Hyemi; Forced and Tormented

Speaking of Hyemi, Hyemi also showed the same reasons for why Kyung has been so scared and worried about everything; these bullies are so weird, they make it their life goal to keep someone as their victim under this messed up of form of slavery and ownership. Hyemi ran away after feeling guilty of what happened to Kyung, she reported Semi and her harpies and tried to restart her life. Like Kyung, however, she got caught immediately, and we see what would have happened if Kyung hadn't leaned in heavily to makeup at the start. She won't be able even to walk the streets without those bullies finding her and getting her back under their abuse. And it's so disgusting. Semi is so worrying as a person; sometimes I feel like she deserves jail for all the pain she causes to people. She takes pleasure in breaking people down because she's afraid they'd take away her spotlight? I don't really understand this type of need for power, but it's disgusting. As much as Hyemi disappointed me in episode 1, she has no choice like Kyung but to betray her friend because it's soul-crushing the type of bullying, her and Kyung go through because of these girls. She has no choice in the matter because even when she tries to do good, they find her and they make her life even more hellish, and because she's 'ugly' as people keep saying, no one helps her, like with Kyung. They sit by and watch and say she deserves it. And the one person who does help every time has also been transformed because of her own bullying situation. And it's again heartbreaking.

Soojin; Regressed and Transformed

So remember how I said that Soojin is not who I'm cursing by the end of this episode. I'm so angry and upset at her; I was also disappointed with the writing because it's basic and I detest girl hate. Soojin's character has now been ruined officially; there's no way she can come back from her actions this episode. She's become essentially like Semi, and it's painful to watch. First of all, she tried to pretend things were okay in episode 11, she did try, but her feelings and her reliance on Suho was more critical, and as much as I hate her, I can understand her desperation.

Suho is the only person who knows and can help her with her own bullying situation. She's being even more bullied harshly by her own father, she's also being psychologically, emotionally and physically tormented and she can't escape this person. It's haunting. And it's heartbreaking because she doesn't truly have friends (apart from Kyung) because she's always the one people rely on (like Suho), she's put in this state of always being the person who defends, and fights, and protects and does what's right. Her life is seen as privileged, and great, and wealthy, and she has everything even the looks that Kyung desperately suffers because of. She's always had to rely on her strength and her self and her brains, but when she's broken and exhausted and needs someone to run to; Suho was that person, and now Kyung was making Suho not be able to be that person.

Her mindset is ruined because she can't find anyone else to turn to, her father is just as influential as Suho's father and the school won't protect her from him and need her good grades to stay with the reputation they seek, no adult can defeat her father, and so she's stuck. It's so worrying, watching her run into her room and she couldn't escape him because he was pounding on the door determined to enter and hit her more. And her mother is spineless and lets it happen, so Soojin is the most broken character and the most alone out of everyone in the show. Kyung is going through a lot of trauma, and her situation is so messed up but Kyung at the end of the day has Suho, she has Seojun as well, though she doesn't know the extent, she has her family even though her mum is not the best, she has her dad, her sister etc. Soojin has no one to run to. Kyung can't do anything to help her with the situation, and Kyung is taking away the one thing that probably could help her in her opinion.

Everyone is quick to hate and judge Soojin but her character arc makes sense because at the end of the day there is really no other place to run to, to avoid regressing into self-harm (washing her hands till they bleed and crack) but to put that pain on others, to feel resentment, jealousy, anger and desperation to get rid of an obstacle. Sadly, she had to endure this torment and become a shell of her self because she's now going to take it too far and it won't be forgivable if she keeps on making Kyung feel like she shouldn't be alive. It won't be right no matter what. And we see how far she can go by her actions in episode 12. She may be the typical second lead female we wanted her not to be, but she's written well, and her trajectory makes sense. I just hope she reforms before it's too late.

So bullying is a big deal in True Beauty, it's what's really causing all our characters to spiral into the trauma and pain they are in. Suho and Seojun may not be bullied, but they're co-products of it, by losing Seyeon they also had to suffer because of what bullying does. In a world where the adults aren't truly dependable, are more distracted by the need for reputation, status and fame, and act inhumanely when it comes to the suffering of these teens, who could really help our characters? They're all going through their pain and trauma alone and being pushed to the point of seeing life as futile and empty. Everyone in true beauty is a victim of this callous society and adults. And it's unsettling.

THE FRIENDSHIPS THAT WERE STRAINED

But this post is also about friendship. One thing that also was mirrored was the importance of friendship; if the teens all join together to protect their peers, if they all show unity and love and understanding to someone, they could save a life. Friendship apart from Kyung's was really great to see. However, there was a parallel with Suho and Seojun and Kyung and Soojin. I also wanted to say the annoying implications that women friendships have to always to be this way is frustrating; women aren't always conniving and manipulative and fickle when it comes to love, it's sad to see Suho and Seojun discuss so happily and calmly about liking the same girl and in the same episode watch Kyung break down and be brutally betrayed because Soojin liked the same guy as her. Like what message are you putting out? More on the bromance of Seojun, Suho and Seyeon. I find it fascinating because for so long, I wondered why this friendship was so important, like why these three are so tied to each other. But after episode 11 to 12, it's obvious. Like I said these three had had their own volatile situations that made them feel all alone and empty even Seojun actually and finding each other was what ignited their passion for life and brought them happiness and joy. Let me explain more in each character's pov.

Suho; Neglected and Withdrawn

Suho had struggled with a father figure and resentment at the whole world, he had to become self-providing basically and had no emotional support. It's so lonely to hear him talk about how alone he was from a very young age, his father was already distant from him (neglectful probably couldn't handle the mother's death but he also was cheating, so it's a bit ironic), he had no one to live with, and he had to take care of himself alone. But also there was resentment for his father because of the paparazzi tormenting him when he was younger, he felt suffocated by the reputation, popularity and status of his father and his father wasn't there to help him with that. You could say it's because Suho pushed him away, but no it's still a duty as a father to fight to come in and spend time with your son, to ask how he's doing, to check in on him in his house like how has he never once tried to force Suho to spend time with him and communicate their differences? Sigh.

So anyway the reason why Suho needed Seyeon and Seojun is because it was the first time he had people to run to and talk to, and it ignited this passion in him to do something he loves. Music. It's actually depressing when we see his phone in episode 12, he has no contacts apart from Kyung, his father, and maybe the high school guy—like Suho had no one for a long time until he met Kyung again. But we also see his transformation in this episode, because he's more animated, lively, happy because yes Kyung and him are in love but also because Seojun is back into his life. Seojun and him basically reunite. Despite teasing and acting gruff and emotionless with each other, (because they've been separated for a while) they finally have each other again, they're still close. They still care for each other immensely; they're each others priority. And it's so sweet to watch despite the one painful thing about Seojun having feelings for Kyung. But even then Seojun staying over at Suho's house and them laughing, and fighting and acting up, even Kyung noticed how different Suho had become. And I don't know it just made my heart warm. So that's what friendship was for Suho, he had two people who he was devoted to, who made him want to have something in life and be trusting again of people. They cared for him and nurtured him in their own way and helped him feel not alone. So congrats to Suho and Seojun reuniting.

Seojun; Responsibility and Pressure

And now Seojun is a fascinating character. I tend to avoid analysing him because he's always happy, has a comfortable lifestyle; good friends, a good mum, a sister who cares about so much, etc. His life apart from the angst with Seyeon is so problem-free. He doesn't need to be jealous or sad, or traumatised because he's in a suitable environment mentally and he also is a good person. But let's go back to the past before Seyeon's demise. Seojun probably also felt alone and empty. Let me explain Seojun mentions that he used to envy Suho because of his wealth, his father in his life and his reputation. This makes us realise what Seojun thought he lacked, he apparently struggled a bit with poverty and not always having everything; he also didn't have a father figure in his life. In fact, we praise how good he is as a son, but it must have been so difficult to become the responsible man of the house as we put it when he was younger, one he had to worry about his mum's health, and take care and provide for her, two, he had to take care and protect his sister hence why he's so protective, he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders to deal with.

And I think the one time he felt free and happy at first was probably when he made music with Suho and Seyeon. Because he doesn't have to think about responsibilities, or how to help his mum and more, so that's probably what he gained from their friendship a place to just be a teen and have fun. Obviously it's revealed, Suho helped his mom when she was ill, and that was heartwarming again to find out because these three were so protective and caring for each other, so loyal and bonded, and I think it's precious to see that. Obviously, after Seyeon's downfall, Seojun was resentful, angry and frustrated and he joined his gang of new friends, and they're so sweet, and just as devoted to him, it also made him more rebellious and more prone to fights because he had anger to let out but also his mum started to get better, so he was still frustrated and depressed about the circumstances but he had somewhere else to fall on, his new friends and his taking his anger out when he could. The only thing that probably was very hurtful more than just Seyeon was choosing to give on his dreams for music. However now he and Suho have reunited I think his music will come back, that passion is between him and Suho, and it's their dream.

Seyeon; Alone and Afraid

And well from my analysis you know what these two meant to Seoyeon, his letter is so heartbreaking and also beautiful because like they were all he had. And they just helped him find that confidence, that passion for life and companionship that he needed. And it's so sad he's not still with them. However Seyeon was truly a victim, and because of his influence on both Suho and Seojun, it's why they'd be able to help Kyung deal with everything she has to deal with in the next episodes. Because of Seoyeon, and also because his sister is the same as Kyung, Seojun is very protective and determined to prevent more losses in his life. Suho was at the rooftop and helped Kyung, stayed by her side and understood her when she had no one else making her feel loved for who she was because of Seyeon's effect on him. He also was determined not to have someone else end up in that situation. Because of this, they both will be able to help her get through it, and that's why I'm not as frightened or worried about her because she has these two great guys who won't stand back and let her do this on her own.

As much as true beauty is about a love triangle between these three, it's also a really touching friendship between all of them. Kyung becomes like the weird replacement (not really) for Seyoeon because she brings back that passion and zeal into these two's lives, and she provides a companionship to them that is different from others, they also do the same for her. So I'm delighted despite the heartbreaks and loss that they found each other, I'm glad they're friends at the end of the day, they care about each other a lot, and even if Seojun somehow ends up the third wheel and the one that's left out a bit, I'm glad that his friendship with Kyung and Suho is still more important to him than vindictiveness or jealousy. Then again, like I said Seojun compared to Soojin is in a different headspace, environment and has more from life than she does. Her mistakes and her betrayal hurts, but it makes sense, I just hope she grows and changes before it's too late. I hope she finds love, peace and happiness someday. Everyone deserves that.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #lee suho #han seojun #im jugyeong #cha eunwoo #moon ga young #cwg #fvete #january #kdrama

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yiannalianos · 3 years

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ALL IN: May 14th, 2021.

This morning, I put my foot down. I promise myself to NOT speak to myself the way I did all day yesterday. I spent a good portion of the day crying, feeling sorry for myself, hating the way I looked, and apologizing to others for the view. I refuse to spend my summer this way. No, gaining a significant amount of weight, losing the sight of all my hard earned muscle, and eating past fullness (ON PURPOSE) isn’t fun. It’s not. BUT, it’s fucking worth it. You know why? Because when I AM recovered, healed, have a healthy menstrual cycle, and am able to train like a badass again (not as much as before bc that’s what got me into this mess in the first place...), I will be SO fucking strong to have overcomed what 98% of woman fear & this is impossible. I will be able to say: I FUCKING DID THAT. I DID WHAT SO MANY WOMEN CAN’T DO, which is fully recover from an ED, recover from the obsession of looking a certain way or being a certain size, gain an appropriate amount of weight for my body to be fertile, and simply come out the BEST version of myself. I know my story will resonate with so many women. I see it on the daily... the restriction, being a prisoner of your own thoughts, killing your nervous system with hours of intense exercise, I see it all. It’s so sad... and I mean SO sad that even women over the age of 40-50 are STILL trying to lose weight. Look, diets don’t work. It’s been scientifically proven that 95% of all diets fail. Why? Because your body DOESN’T WANT TO STARVE, BE IN A DEFICIT, OR BE SKIN AND BONES. IF they did, our hormones would still function, we wouldn’t lose our hair, our mental health wouldn’t plumit, our relationships wouldn’t suck, our sex drives would be high, and we’d be CONFIDENT. Confident you ask? Yeah. Confident. When you’re struggling with the pursuit of ALWAYS NEEDING TO CHANGE YOUR BODY, you’re never happy. Trust me, at 108lbs soaking wet, with veins running through my six pack and my shoulders ready to burst, I had the WORST self-esteem. Isn’t that crazy how that works? IT didn’t MATTER that I got so many compliments, I was miserable. I wouldn’t allow for ANY deviation in my nutrition or exercise routine, and if I did, the anxiety would be suffocating. After a hard day like yesterday, it’s important for me to rewire my thoughts abou this process. THIS PROCESS IS TEMPORARY, BUT THE THINGS I WILL GAIN FROM IT WILL CHANGE MY LIFE FOR THE BETTER. THE LIFE OF MY LOVED ONES, FRIENDS, AND FUTURE CHILDREN. So yeah, the cellulite is INCREDIBLY hard to swallow, my bras not fitting doesn’t feel so good, and the acne on my face isn’t helping, but it’s fucking worth it. I will do anything in my power to restore and regain peace within my body and my mind.

It’s been especially tough dealing with this because we’ve been in lockdown for over 15 months. Going out, exploring, trying new restaurants, and being around friends would be SO helpful in this situation because it would help distract me from my thoughts. It’s tough when I literally LIVE in the middle of a gym (my homegym and room are both in the basement... currently starring at a barbell as I type... LOL) and am surrounded by dieters. What’s keeping me going in the OUTCOME. Whether it’s in 2, 6, 12 months from now, I know that I will be healthier, happier, and the strongest person I know. The strength, courage, and trust in my body that it takes to go through a process like this is unmatched. The exploration of my thoughts, triggers, surroundings, and body are going to be tools I will use to overcome any other challenges I face in life. If people thought I was tough because I could shoulder press 50′s or because I was so diligent with a 6-pack as a result, I can’t wait to see how tough people will think I am after having gone through weight gain in the middle of the summer. This isn’t easy, and it’s really only just begun.

I’m cutting the bullshit with myself TODAY. NO more comparison, no more mental restriction, no more looking in the mirror and feeling sorry for myself, no more spending hours bawling my eyes out, and no more thinking about what the future holds. I promise to myself RIGHT now that I can do this.I will do this. And I will come out WAY fucking stronger than ever before. Here’s to the weekend, and here’s to me. Let’s conquer this thing.

#i'm sad #hard day #recovery #growth #body positive #healing #intuitive eating #eating disoder recovery #nutrition #wellness #bodylovin #yogapractice #meditatemore #one day at a time

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noahhernandez · 4 years

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2/9/2015 v. 8/11/2020

1:Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. My favorite movie is Scream, and it started when I saw the midnight premier of Scream 4 with my dad back when I was in 8th grade, then Scream 1 came on AMC late on night and I just really like it

I still think Scream is one of my favorites, but Halloween has jumped up there just because I am obsessed with all things horror really lol. I started to love Halloween because of the new trilogy.

2:Talk about your first kiss. It’s really not that interesting but really like embarrassing. It was with my first boyfriend and I had just turned 15 and we were at the school just walking around and we went into the band hall and I was like ok im leaving and he was like wait and we kissed and i was like o

the same !

3:Talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for. I never really have had intense feelings for anyone. I d k

One my exes- I mean we were dating for awhile so that’s pretty intense to me.

4:Talk about the thing you regret most so far. I regret… Nothing really I mean, I have done really bad things in my life, but i don’t regret them

I regret failing like 2 semesters of college lmao and almost dropping out. If i didn’t then I would 1- would have been done earlier and 2- would have already completed a year of grad school but IDK also another is wasting lots of money in 2017-2018

5:Talk about the best birthday you’ve had. The best birthday I’ve had was.. Idk This year was was nice I saw Iggy Azalea in concert, then I celebrated my friends’ birthday then mine and it was just everyone got to get together so ya this year my 18th

For my 21st birthday I went to Portland, Oregon and spent the weekend there and it was pretty and my first time there so it was nice despite what I think about PDX now. I don’t even know what I was doing for my 19 and 20th birthday lol.

6:Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had. My 17th birthday because I was stuck 2 hours away from home with a bunch of nerds doing a band competition

That is still probably my worst birthday. I forget to mention that I was gone literally from like 7am to midnight. They werent a bunch of loser nerds, they were my friends, but I still wish I was just at home lol.

7:Talk about your biggest insecurity. I am skinny, but not fit. If I eat anything I get this like stomach and it makes me so sad. and ever since I got a job I work odd hours and I eat a lot of fast food and I’ve gained 10 pounds in 2 years and I guess i’m insecure about my weight

I am still insecure about my weight, and I probably weight like 5 pounds more than I did when I made this post 5 1/2 years ago.

8:Talk about the thing you are most proud of. We have band banquets for band, and I only went my sophomore and junior year, and seniors give out awards to underclassmen that are just jokes really, and both years 4 different seniors gave me an award for being the biggest gossip in the entire band and I was proud of that lol

Well since then I have graduated both high school and college. I am proud that I finished college !! A BS in Psych. Proud of myself that I got promoted (in 2017) at my job; i’m proud of myself that I have my own apartment, and blah blah basically just doing regular adult shit.

9:Talk about little things on your body that you like the most. I like my nose because of how perfectly fixed it is. I also really like my freckles/moles/dark marks idk what they are exactly, but they’re on my face and they look great

I still feel the same way about this, maybe add my eyebrows- they’re not like clean and nice they’re just expression markers on my face that i love.

10:Talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had. I got into a fight with my old friend Angelica and that was almost 4 months ago and we used to be best friends and now we never talk.

When Janett didn’t talk to me all summer of 2019 because I told our other friend Angel something

11:Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had. I cant remember one 12:Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had. I can’t remember one

13:Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time. The closest thing i’ve had to like sex was being locked in a back of an SUV with a stranger drunk as fuck and naked and its embarrassing

Just awkward and nothing to which I expected.

14:Talk about a vacation. When I was 16, the high school band took a trip to Hawaii, and all my friends were in band so it was great. We did a lot of things, we toured Pearl Harbor and even played a few patriotic songs on the USS Miss. and our hotel was on Wakiki beach. I went snorkeling in some beautiful water and shit and idk just walked all around Hawaii having a great time omg we got on stage at the Hard Rock Cafe and sang with German people i miss it

Hm that was fun. But I.. went to NY with my ex and that was pretty cool because I literally love New York, and I went to NOLA two years ago (today actually) and got miserably drunk so that was fun too

15:Talk about the time you were most content in life. Probably just in the middle of junior year when everything and everyone was going with the flow

I feel like 2016 was a very content year because I remember nothing about it.

16:Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to. Idk which one to talk about the one where I had a lot of fun and risked my life or the one where there was a lot of drama stirred up and drank myself to sadness.

I haven’t really been to a party? I have gone out and had good times. Really anytime my friends and I go out I am having a good time

17:Talk about someone you want to be friends with. I am already friends with people I want to be friends with

18:Talk about something that happened in elementary school. I kissed a boy on the back of the head and i told I just fell onto his head

Let me think of another one. Back in like fourth grade my friend was in a wheel chair and his backpack was falling from the back and I was trying to grab it and i was only 3 feet tall i couldnt see over or wasnt paying attention and i crashed him right into the bookshelves at the library.

19:Talk about something that happened in middle school. A girl was mad at me because idk why lol and she pushed me in the hall way and I fucking flew across that hall on the floor and hit the wall she’s pregnant now

When I was in 5th grade (which is considered middle school in my district) I was standing on the play ground and someone threw a stick at my head and it knocked me the fuck out and I was bleeding from my temple.

20:Talk about something that happened in high school. In Jr. Year I was pulling into the parking lot but I was texting and I accidentally put half my car on grass area near the side walk luckily it was 7am and only one person saw me do it lol

One summer going into our senior year we had a party at Michelle’s house. First of all we were very drunk and Coby’s parents were like we are coming over and we cleaned TF UP so fast and sat on the couch and turned on I Know What You Did Last Summer and his parents were like interesting and and left and then we continued to drink anyways- we started playing truth or dare and my friend Angelica was like I dare u to kiss Anthony (someone I had liked prior) and he wouldnt and we started attacking him and calling him homophobic and hitting him with pillows lmao- him and I are still friend-ish

21:Talk about a time you had to turn someone down. I can’t think of something right now.

Literally anyone on grindr.

22:Talk about your worst fear. I’m afraid of having no career and being stuck doing something I hate and living paycheck to paycheck

Yeah, I’m scared of that still but I.. think just like being broke and jobless. RN with the pandemic we aren’t really working and still getting gov’t assistance, so. IDK being a real real adult scares me a lot.

23:Talk about a time someone turned you down. I can’t think of a time :)

One time in like 2016 maybe idk - this dude told me to come over and he lived far like not that far maybe 25 minutes lol far for me anyways I got to his apartment and there was a gate code and i asked him what it was and he didnt answer and it was like 2-3am and nobody was coming in or out and so i was like damn this sucks lmao

24:Talk about something someone told you that meant a lot. Nothing really has meant a lot to me. Everyone tells me the same thing over and over again and its so surface level

I still can’t think of anything but I’m sure the friends I have met since this and my friends Faith, Michelle, Peter, and Alisa have said something supportive that meant a lot to me.

25:Talk about an ex-best friend. Angelica Ramirez. She was my best friend for only 3 years, but together we went through A LOT of shit. We started out senior year just fine, but she lied about a few things and made a lot of us feel like crap in October. I won’t lie, I do miss her. We have too many memories to just forget, too many funny stories and great adventures. She helped me with too much, and sometimes I think about how I cut her out of my life and I mad a bad choice. But only time can heal things and I have moved on and truly found people that won’t make me mad every 30 seconds.

Brianna Pajak, I don’t remember anything about her except she was poor and we stopped being friends because she always wanted to fight and be annoying.

26:Talk about things you do when you’re sick. Lay on bed on my computer and watch TV

I normally just suffer and cry about wishing I was healthy again.

27:Talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body. Their…!!>>>???

I must have nice hands and ur nose must be nice too! so nose and hands. lol

28:Talk about your fetishes. none

yeah I don’t have any lol not that I can think of.

29:Talk about what turns you on. Idk i really like kissing and touching and this is awkward.

30:Talk about what turns you off. bad breath by

that and ugly/rough hands, acne sorry i know it is natural but, shorter than me lol, white people, long hair on guys, and thats about it i think hm i am single yes

31:Talk about what you think death is like. I think its like idk its scary tho

um idk i dont like thinking about death because i literally want to cry when i think about it.

32:Talk about a place you remember from your childhood. I remember being in trees a lot

My step grandma’s a lot because my parents were working and she would watch us. She passed away about a month ago :(

33:Talk about what you do when you are sad. I usually only tell one person and that person is Alisa and I cry sometimes to her and expect her to make things better and she does thank u

I be doing the same thing, I text someone and that person could really be anyone but it happened the other day and I texted Bri and she was very helpful.

34:Talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured. I have no idea, I’ve never broken pulled strained twisted fractures or anything i have no life

I still haven’t done any of that stuff to my body. I also have burn scars but I did not feel those when it was happening. I would just say i guess my wisdom teeth coming in because I did not get them removed. I have 3 out lol.

35:Talk about things you wish you could stop doing. Pushing potential love interests away

I have had some ‘love interests’ since this post, but it’s been about a year now since and I kind of push away the opportunity of getting close to someone. I also need to stop being a bitch sometimes.

36:Talk about your guilty pleasures. eating

I would say idk eating was a stupid answer.

37:Talk about someone you thought you were in love with. never

I was in love and i didn’t ‘think’ I was in love. I don’t know what you mean by talk about them, they were my partner but we broke up hehe.

38:Talk about songs that remind you of certain people. Fireflies by Owl City reminds me of my 7th grade crush Fancy by Iggy Azalea reminds me of my two friends Michelle and Alisa idk anything else

um Idk. i rly cant think 39:Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier. I wish I would have known that

That it’s okay to tell people you’re struggling lol . That is okay to fail sometimes (school). 40:Talk about the end of something in your life. everything is just about to start

When I ended how to get away with murder I wish I never did I love that show with all my heart.

#personal

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tomfleton · 4 years

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stepping stone goals

some thoughts:

I really struggle with consistency. I understand the way to become consistent, of course, i’ve set so many intentions, so many goals, and planned out how i’ll achieve them. But truly I will not do something unless I fear punishment is what i’ve realized about myself.

For example, the only hint of consistency in my life is my multi step morning and nighttime skincare routine because I FEAR acne and worsening my many blemishes. I’ve stuck with that for over 10 years at this point, but honestly, i have my off days with that too, and that may be why I still don’t have clear skin lol.

I envy people who can make a plan and follow through. Yet, in many ways, my inability to stick to something has led me on many different paths I never would have ever envisioned or planned for myself anyway. College, various college experiences and friendships, internships, the city I live in, the career I currently have. All of these things feel like they happened serendipitously. And honestly and TRULY i love that. I love being able to look back and track the journey I’ve taken, and I’m glad I allowed myself that openness while in my late teens and early 20s. I’ve always found it hard to set long-term goals bc of the uncertainty i feel about most things in life - some things out of my control as well. Beyond ongoing uncertainties that have existed in my life for decades - we’re in a pretty shitty time to say the least.

i had finally thought i’d achieved the dream state of consistency in feb 2020. After months of work related angst, low self esteem due to a 15 lb weight gain, and general unease with my lot in life mixed with the loneliness that coms from moving somewhere new, i had finally made a plan and stuck to it. I worked out HARD 4-5 times a week and I loved it. I hate to be that person but spin class is the shit and i miss it everyday. I was actually cooking for myself and enjoying what i made. I was getting used to the 9-5 and finally feeling like i belonged on my project and had value to offer, like i wasn’t a burden. I was putting myself out there, reaching out to new and old friends, going on a million dates (not really but it felt like it). I was embracing my business casual fashion and also adopting a new natural wavy hair look. I was tailoring my style and honestly life kind of felt like how i thought it would feel watching those tv shows about the young ingenue learning her way in the big city and transforming into the eclectic yet bad ass 20-something hbic. But then i literally got covid-19, the country shut down, every external thing that was adding value to my life disappeared, and i was back in my childhood home for 4 months.

now we’re at the end of august 2020. I’m back in dc and trying to rebuild the progress i made and be consistent in achieving those skills again, but it’s hard. I don’t think we talk enough about the intense level of burnout from this prolonged remote work. i feel like i work or think about work for 16 hours a day. There is no reprieve and no outlet outside of grinding at the lowest level for my corporate overlord. literally. I’m planning on moving out of the city and back home permanently now. i feel like the fledgling friendships i had with coworkers are already gone or well on their way out (which hurts the most because it feels like so many people in a similar life situation have made meaningful friendships :/ including some of my closest friends with new post grad friends :/). i barely have time to take care of myself, so i’m trying not to be so hard on myself in such a chaotic phase of life. but it’s hard when you’re overly self reflective and critical.

i went to this pretty basic goal setting event at work on thursday not expecting to get much from it, and while the content was extremely basic (think “annotate the screen if you’ve ever had a goal”) something really resonated me: splitting things up between stepping stone goals, short term goals, and long term goals. As I said previously, I really struggle with long term goal setting because everything is uncertain and then i overthink and make it even more uncertain. I love the idea of stepping stone goals because that leaves so much room for an opportunity for more, for serendipity to hit. in the past, i’ve been successful by setting a vague personal guideline of doing the best i can at everything i do, but that is NOT sustainable in a 9-5 corporate world. They take advantage of us for it! the harder i work the more that will be added to my plate, and while i took that as a compliment and testament to my value as a human (yikes much to unpack there), the other thing that really resonated for me was setting goals is how you learn how to say no. setting goals lets you set boundaries for yourself. you should always be thinking: does this opportunity, action, hobby, etc big me closer to my self-defined goals? I think my biggest realization of August is how intentionality actually does matter A TON. In college, i heard countless times about the importance of saying no, mindfulness, self care, work life balance etc, and while i struggled with being over committed in college i had the support of friends and received a lot of recognition for my actions. For the first time in my life, i’m actually experiencing that feeling of being a small fish in a big pond and it’s a debilitating feeling.

So, I need to learn how to set boundaries at work. To do that i need to set goals. But because I suck at consistency with those bigger goals, I need to leverage and internalize the idea of these stepping stone goals. More to come on actually listing out these goals for tracking purposes :)

#totally get that no one wants this ish on their feeds lol feel free to unfollow :/#i find it nice to keep all my thoughts on this blog because ability to review where i've been mentally since 2012 #very neat #frah #marking progress

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flightfoot · 5 years

Text

A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 5 - A Godly Interlude

God!Apollo’s POV

NO NO NO

NO NO NO NO NO

This was NOT possible.

What I felt - what I’d sensed - it HAD to be wrong.

There was no other option.

But you know you aren’t wrong.

Shut up, I told myself. I have to be wrong. I HAVE to be. Because otherwise... otherwise...

Otherwise you get turned mortal again, but this time trapped in THAT awful body, with acne and flab?

Yes! It’s horrible and awful! I had flab. FLAB!!! I always have at least a six-pack. ALWAYS.

That’s not what you’re most upset about. That’s not why you’ve been pacing and muttering to yourself for the last hour.

SHUT. UP. ME.

What you saw - what we saw - when we looked at him.

SHUT UP

The memory came back to me. I tried desperately to stop it, but since when did my memory listen to what I wanted?

I’d been annoyed at that demigod girl calling me stupid. Seriously, no respect!

I’d been about to scare her - maybe just a little incineration, just a really bad sunburn really - when that boy had hurled himself to his feet, planting himself between me and the girl.

The way he was GLARING at me...

I KNEW I was a god. I knew he couldn’t harm me. I knew that I could destroy him so thoroughly that not even a body remained.

It didn’t matter.

When he glared at me with those eyes, with that expression on his face, I froze.

I’d feebly tried to protest that he was wrong. That he wasn’t me.

But that look...

I’d worn it before.

When I’d found out that Zeus had murdered Asclepius.

That... that was my protective, angry look.

And - and betrayal.

When someone who should have been on my side - when someone who should have been helping me - was the cause of the harm in the first place.

The dam broke.

I couldn’t fool myself any longer.

The reason I’d walking around muttering, trapped in my own thoughts, WASN’T because I’d apparently be trapped in a hideous - AVERAGE - meat sack in the future, though it didn’t HELP...

The reason I was so distressed... was because my FATHER had been responsible.

Oh yes. I knew it was Father. That was his *favorite* punishment for me, after all. Plus, I could feel that master-slave enchantment on the boy - on my future self. I knew Father’s handiwork.

At least Meg seemed to be a tolerable master. My future self wouldn’t have been so protective of her otherwise. That spell forced actions, not emotions.

Remember what you screamed to yourself-

NOPE

I was NOT doing that.

Not by myself.

I needed...

Before I consciously knew what I was doing, I was already on my way.

She’d been close by.

Thankfully she hadn’t gone far since I last saw her.

I materialized in my sister’s camp.

Artemis’s POV

I was helping teach a new recruit how to shoot when I felt him.

I sighed. Really? Shouldn’t he be off hunting some monsters? Or more likely, seducing some mortal somewhere. He’d visited only a few days ago, he usually waited longer between visits.

Well... until I was kidnapped.

I shuddered a little. Thankfully, my newest Hunter didn’t notice.

I KNEW I would be rescued. Between my Hunters and my brother, there was no WAY I’d be abandoned.

But the price for my rescue...

I fought the urge to look at the sky. It was silly. It was still daytime, it’s not like the stars would be visible.

Yet I could feel the Huntress - could feel Zoe - glaring at me.

Which is how I knew it was DEFINITELY in my head. Zoe would never blame me for her death.

But I blamed me.

And my newest Hunter too - Bianca - I’d never gotten a chance to know her. Not really.

I hoped that Elysium was treating her well.

I- I should have been able to save them. I was a goddess!

But I knew, more than most other gods, how little that meant.

How close we were to mortals.

I’d always surrounded myself with my Hunters, with my girls.

They were immortal, to an extent. They would never die of old age. As for illnesses, well, sometimes it came in handy to be the twin of the god of healing. Yet they were still mortal enough to retain a mortal perspective, to be connected to the world and the people in it, instead of growing conceited and distant.

It was one reason why I didn’t much enjoy most other immortals’ company. Few of them considered mortals to be valuable, and fewer still thought of them as actual people unless they were either romantically attracted to them or were related to them. Even deities who used to BE mortal, such as Dionysus or even one of my own followers, Britomartis, considered mortals to be equal to gods in any way.

Apollo was better than most in that regard... but that wasn’t saying much. He rarely considered others’ feelings, and he happily used mortals deaths as entertainment. He’d rarely outright harm others at least, and would even help demigods without much fuss. He just... might not stop others from harming others either.

The sunlight increased in intensity, breaking me out of my reverie.

I turned to my newest recruit. “That would be my brother. I’ll talk to him, see what he wants. In the meantime, I recommend asking one of the other Hunters for help practicing.”

The girl nodded and headed off to rejoin the others.

I turned around. “Brother, what is this about?”

He smiled at me widely. “Can’t I just visit my favorite sister?”

I raised an eyebrow. Maybe he could fool his various lovers with that smile. But he couldn’t fool me. I knew him too well. That was his I’m-covering-up-my-feelings smile.

I poked at our bond. We could shield our emotions from each other if we wanted to. The fact that he hadn’t tried to and had deliberately sought me out meant that he needed my help. Or at least a shoulder to cry on.

I concentrated. I expected to find heartbreak from a lover breaking up with him, or perhaps grief from one of his kids dying.

Instead I got... confusion? A bit of panic? Betrayal? And something deeply repressed, roiling beneath the surface.

I frowned. What on Earth had happened?

“Apollo.” I looked him in the eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his mask fall, just a little. A flicker of fear crossed his face. “Sister? Can we speak privately? Please?”

I studied his face. I was reluctant to leave my Hunters, but...

“Alright. Just let me tell Thalia, and you can tell me what’s going on.”

I made arrangements with my Lieutenant, telling her that I needed to speak with Apollo about something, but that I expected to be back later that day.

I walked back to my brother. He fidgeted slightly.

“So, Delos?” I proposed. No other god could harm or spy on us there. Not even Zeus.

He nodded mutely.

We turned into glitter, spiriting ourselves back to our birthplace.

We rematerialized a few minutes later. Normally it would take longer to travel halfway around the world, but we had a special connection with Delos. It never took long to travel there.

I grimaced. Getting BACK would take considerably longer. I hoped he had a good reason for insisting on the privacy. I hated leaving my girls so vulnerable. They could take care of themselves, but still I worried.

I turned to my brother. He took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Look, I know this sounds crazy-”

My heart sank. Either someone (probably Hermes) had pranked Apollo and unwittingly dragged me into it (in which case, that someone was going to be turned into a pincushion) or something really crazy HAD happened. Crazy was rarely good.

“-but my future self was turned mortal again and assigned a young girl as his master. The two of them dropped out of thin air right in front of me!”

I stared at my brother. Looks like the ‘prank’ option was correct. My newest Hunter would be getting live target practice earlier than expected it seemed.

“He had flab, Artemis! FLAB! And ACNE!”

I sighed, shooting Apollo an annoyed look.

“You’re being pranked, brother.”

“Look, I KNOW how insane this sounds-”

“Very insane.”

“I thought so too! But... but...”

His fists clenched. “He- he had this look on his face. And- and he said something. Something that’s stuck in my head. I just- I KNOW how insane, how impossible this sounds. But I think it’s real.”

I looked at my brother. His bowed head, the hurt on his face, the hint of guilt. Whatever this apparition said, it had cut Apollo to the core.

Maybe this was a prank. But its effect on my brother was very, very real.

“What did he say?”

Apollo took a shaky breath. “His young companion had just insulted me. I was angry. I glowed. I wasn’t going to kill her, just you know - singe her a little.”

I glared at him. He put up his hands. “Look, I know it was wrong and a bad idea. I got yelled at about it. That’s what I was talking about. My mortal self leapt to his feet and screamed at me. What he said...”

Apollo closed his eyes and started quoting, “Do not harm her. Don’t you dare harm ANY of them. LOOK AT ME! REALLY LOOK AT ME, DON’T JUST STARE THROUGH ME LIKE WE ALWAYS DID, DON’T PRETEND PEOPLE FEEL THE WAY THAT’S CONVENIENT FOR US, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, TRY TO UNDERSTAND! “

What?

I stared at my twin. At his trembling hands, the barely repressed tears.

Those words hit him hard.

There was truth in them.

And he knew it.

Was this what I’d felt him repressing?

I still didn’t believe that my brother had REALLY met his future self. Something like that had never happened before.

But still...

What he’d heard...

And his reaction...

The only person I could think of who could target his repressed feelings, emotions hidden so deeply that even Apollo didn’t fully realize their depth...

Was himself.

“What happened to this ‘future self’ of yours?”

Apollo looked at me hopefully. “Do you believe me now?”

I hummed. “I never thought you were lying. You wouldn’t do that. I still think someone might be tricking you. Even if they are though, your distress is very real. I want to see them for myself. See what they meant by those words.”

Apollo face lit up - literally. I smiled at the soft glow. “You’d come and see? Really?!”

Did he really think I wouldn’t? “Yes, of course. Where can we meet these supposed time travelers?”

He coughed, looking a little sheepish. “Well you see, they interrupted me as I was sending Percy and his satyr friend to retrieve this rogue Celedon of mine. I was busy freaking out about all of this, but I THINK they left to capture the Celedon together.”

I shot him a disapproving look. “Brother, a rogue Celedon could cause a lot of damage to mortals. She’s your responsibility, you should have retrieved her yourself.”

“Hey, I was busy!”

I looked at him.

“I had to practice for a concert!”

“And that’s more important than stopping one of YOUR backup singers from causing chaos?”

“Yes!”

I sighed, but dropped the subject. At least he’d chosen people he’d KNOWN were up to the task.

“So when and where do we go?”

“Empire State Building. I told them they had to be back by sunset so I could get to my concert on time.”

Made sense.

I stood up and looked at the sun, calculating how far along and adjusting for the time difference. “Looks like we have about an hour before the sun sets in New York. Just enough time to get back. You ready to go?”

He grinned. “Of course!”

We turned into silver and gold glitter, shooting towards New York City.

#a convergence of apollos #trials of apollo #the trials of apollo #toa #percy jackson #grover underwood #Meg Mccaffrey #apollo #artemis #lester papadopoulos #fanfiction

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riverforasong · 5 years

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Climbing Through the Wall

TW: Self Harm, Weight issues, and family instability, oh and nudity, I guess. It’s a non-fiction thing so if that’s not your bag, thanks for coming anyway!

It’s never really been a secret, per se, but I’ve only just now started to freely admit to people that I’m a nudist. Be it out of fear of how people would react, or embarrassment stemming from a, now that I think of it, weirdly conservative upbringing, I never talked about it. I would drop hints here and there, but never much explicit, even with super close friends it remained a non-topic, despite the fact that it was, and is, a very big part, and honestly, fundamental part of my life. Hell, I’m literally naked right now (Probably, depending on when you’re reading this and what time of day it is, I could be at the store or at work or something, but it’s like a solid 90 percent chance). When the topic does come up, especially with people just learning about it for the first time, I get a lot of questions about it, which is absolutely to be expected, and I don’t mind it one bit, mostly because I love talking about this kinda stuff. One of the questions that always trips me up a little bit though, is “Why?” Why choose to go naked all the time? Which seems like an easy answer, being naked is awesome, it’s more comfortable, it releases stress, and makes it easier to sleep, and it honestly baffles me why anyone would choose to wear clothes if they didn’t absolutely have to. For me at least, it’s the only time I’m ever really comfortable, clothes and I just never really gelled. But it wasn’t until recently, and I’m talking within the last 3 months recently that I realized how important it was to me, and the recovery of my self image. My self esteem has always been low, and a lot of that stems from how I physically look, but it goes even deeper than that. From here on out this story gets kind of intense,TW: Self Harm, Weight issues, and family instability, oh, and nudity I guess, but you should have figured that out by now, so if you’re not into that, maybe skip to the last paragraph? Or you could bail out here, the whole gist of it is being naked makes you feel better about yourself, you and your friends should give it a try sometimes. Got it? Good, and here we go.

I’ve always been the fat kid, right from the get go, in school that’s how I was pegged. Like a lot of fat kids, we learned to be the funny one in the group, because humour is a damn fine way to mask any and all insecurities you’re hiding within yourself. I’d always told myself that it doesn’t bother me, people are gonna say what they say and you can eiher take it personally, or let it roll off your back and make a joke about it, and that’s what I always did. Or at the very least, tried to do. It worked, or so I thought, but I’d be lying to you right now if I said it never got to me. Late night when no one was listening, it would replay over and over in my head, about how that’s the only thing people ever see in me. That’s always going to be their first impression. I will never be loved if I look like this. Now this is a batshit crazy way of thinking in retrospect, but that’s how m'brain works when it’s back on it’s bullshit. Later in life, what I now know to be an anxiety issue and mental illness, went unchecked for too long. In my family, I always had to be the level headed one, parenting the parents so to speak. My brother had sever Social Anxiety Disorder and would lash out in increasingly terrible ways that he can talk about in his own damn story, but my parents were not… I dunno, mature enough? No that seems silly, equipped to? Equipped to take care of this in the way it needed to be. Yelling begat more yelling, violence begat more violence, you see how things roll. I would always have to step in and make sure things don’t escalate any further than they already had. Taking pieces of myself and shoving them in the holes of the levee to make sure the whole place doesn’t flood. It would work, things would calm down and merrily we’d roll along until the next disaster hit. This worked for them. It didn’t however, work for me. Being the person who took care of these issues took a toll on me that I didn’t expect. See, I was just as sad and angry as everyone else, but I couldn’t express it in any way, because I needed to fix the issues before they became worse, but unlike everyone else, I had no one to check on me. No one to make sure that I was doing okay enough to function, which as it turned out, I was not. The anger and the sadness and the overall negative emotion swelled inside of me and remained bottled up until it could no longer stay. I began to cut myself to release it. I couldn’t find someone to help, and I couldn’t take it out on anyone else, so I took it out on the person who mattered least in the house, myself.

Still with me? If so, here’s a puppy.

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Cutting may have relieved the emotional pain and stress I was feeling, but it also left something in it’s wake. Big, obvious, ugly, red scars. Crisscrossing my arms and legs. New ones would pop up every couple of days or so. A couple people would ask about it, I’d tell them it was my cat, which if you knew my cat made sense, ‘cause that little thing’s kind of a bastard, and the situation would be left alone. This went on for a while, longer than I’d like to admit, but the important thing was I got help. Help from friends who are truly invaluable to me in ways I could not possibly convey because I don’t know that many words. I’d love to say it got better immediately, and I never even thought about doing it again, but shiiiit, you know that’s not how life works. I still struggle with it to this day. I was however, on the road to healing, both physically and mentally. The problem remained though, these scars would be with me forever. You can still see them if you look close enough at my arms, and it’s been a solid ten years or so since the first major incidents. Now, as someone who already had a pretty low vision of himself, this did not help at all. I hated going outside, I hated putting myself out there in the world. I hated what people might think, might say, might point out. It was an awful ouroboros of thoughts leading to actions leading to thoughts leading to actions. I was disgusted with who I was and what I looked like. From the fat, to the scars, to the fact that I thought my head was too big, and my feet too small. Now, as a guy, you don’t know that you get to feel this way. We don’t talk about how men can obsess over their looks and how it makes them feel as much as we really do. There’s not a lot of self help books for that kind of situation, or if there is, I sure didn’t find any. Mostly 'cause I didn’t look that hard, mostly because I was afraid to ask for help, mostly because I didn’t know I was allowed too. There’s that ouroboros again.

This is where the whole nudist thing kicks in. See, my whole life, I always kinda hated clothes, getting dressed, shopping for them, gah, I just hate it. I was always more comfortable naked than anyway else. My parents on the other hand, wanted no part of anything like that. I remember as a 4 year old getting told I was too old to walk around without being fully dressed. Socks, Pants, Underwear, Shirt, the whole 9 yards. I remember bring up the subject to my mom, who was so horrified at the concept of me being a nudist she actually started yelling despite herself. We once watched a documentary where one of the characters was raise in a nudist family, there weren’t even on screen, and my parents would rally against them, talking about how it’s sick and why have these people no shame? I always gave a half-harted affirmation, but on the inside, it was killing me. I never drank, did drugs, had underage, unprotected sex, got into fights, that wasn’t really my thing. My rebellion was being naked. Naked inside, outside, sometimes with friends, sometimes in public, for as long as humanly possible, down to the last millisecond I could. But during the rough patch, I hated how I looked so much I stayed covered up, to a ridiculous degree. I’m talking long sleeve shirts in summertime, wearing shorts in the bathtub kind of covering. It was a mess. I figured the whole thing was a phase and it was time to outgrow it. It was time to repress some feelings and urges, and get back shoving my emotions and feelings of inadequacy back down my own throat.

I know it was a stupid idea. I’m also in the future.

This went on for a while, although I can’t remember how long. I felt miserable, and couldn’t figure out why. I kept wearing increasingly baggy clothes to hide what I though deserved to be hid. But I wasn’t getting any better internally, it just looked like it. I didn’t feel any better about the way I looked, I just stopped looking. I don’t know what changed, eventually. Something did though. Maybe I just cracked through the shell I had formed around myself. But for the life of me, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I may have hated the way I looked, but I hated clothes more, I guess.

When you’re naked for a long amount of time, a few things happen. At first, you’re highly aware and tactile about every single thing around you. You’re aware of every imperfection on your body, from love handles, to acne, to scars, to weird ingrown hairs, to what you need to shave, to how dry your knees are. Everything, Every. Damn. Thing. And then? You forget about it. You focus on something else, you watch TV, you play video games, you clean the house, you check your garden, whatever it is, and you forget about what little things bug you about you. When you do it over and over again, that first part where you obsess about everything becomes shorter, and shorter, until it eventually disappears altogether. Nudity helped me come to peace with who I am, and what I look like. I may not like a lot of the things about me. But I don’t obsess, it doesn’t ruin me, it doesn’t encapsulate all I am anymore. The biggest change was seeing it happen to other people, the first time I ever went to a nude event, it was the Portland Naked Bike Ride in 2016, and you realize how diverse we all really are. I saw fat people, skinny people, trans-gendered people, men, women, children of all shapes, sizes and colours hanging out and talking to people. I was horrified about what they would think about me when I came walking in, but no one batted an eye. We talked, we laughed, we shared stories and jokes and videos about whatever. I finally realized that the only person saying these terrible things about me and they way I looked, was me.

Whenever I finally tell people that I’m a nudist, I get one of two reactions. One is always someone showing a ton of interest, but not wanting to admit it, so they ask a lot of questions, but try to do it superstitiously, and two, people who say stuff like “That’s so cool, but I could never do it myself,” and that one always bums me out. We have taught people from the time that they’re born to the time they die, that being naked is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing, and is only to be reserved for taking a shower no longer than ten minutes, and having sex in the missionary position only for the purposes of procreation after marriage, and for the love of all that is holy never speak of it, or practice it outside of these two times. It’s terrible to shame someone for something so simple and natural and helpful. To tell people right out of the gate that their body is shameful and should be hidden away because “No one wants to see that.” We kick their self esteem in the chest before it even has a chance to get started

I’m getting kind of soapbox-y and that’s not the point I’m trying to make. The point is, I fully believe that nudism saved my perception of myself, and I feel like people need to give it a chance. Separate it from it’s sexual connotation and invite your friends over for a naked movie night or something like that. I even ran a naked DND session once, and it went over like gangbusters. It helps folks who t think they’ll be uncomfortable for the first time focus on something else, and realize life is just that much better. Getting people naked and watching their faces go from assuming it’s going to be awkward to genuine fun and comfort is one of my favourite feelings in the world, because we stop putting so much pressure on ourselves and what we wear and what we look like, when no one has anything to hide..

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rycbrar97 · 6 years

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Consequences [part two]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female!OC

Warnings: Minor swearing, mentions of menstruation, brief mentions of sex, sickness, mentions of pregnancy, character feeling anxiety/shock

Word count: 3745

Summary: One too many drinks leads to a night both Tom and Alessia will definitely forget and a morning they will always remember.

A/N: I am so excited to write this series, hopefully I didn’t rush this chapter too much. I was just real eager to get this out there to everyone! Let me know if you enjoy it 😉

Taglist Requests

Part one

By the time she made it back to her hotel Alessia had already decided that there was no point in telling her sister who she ended up staying the night with and losing her virginity to. She would never believe it. It was hard enough convincing her that she actually had lost her virginity in the first place, nevertheless with Spider-Man himself.

“What?! You? Had sex? As in done the dirty? Miss ‘I can hardly say the word penis without blushing’,” Sophie had let out incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh my goodness, yes, Soph. Do you have to make it so goddamn embarrassing? Why would I lie to you about this?” Alessia groaned, hands digging into her eyes and legs pacing her back and forth.

“I don’t know! I guess I just didn’t expect my saint of a sister telling me that she lost her virginity on a one night stand whilst completely pissed up the gutter-”

“God, do you have to say it like that?” she interrupted, stopping her pacing mid-stride and staring at her sister dead on, the mortification screaming off her face.

“Hey, that’s what you told me! Just because you don’t want to admit you’re a whore now doesn’t mean that you aren’t one. Somebody has to say it-”

“God, just shut up! Shut up, okay?!” Alessia’s hands shook up and down at each word, her pacing returning with increased intensity.

“Jeez, stop freaking out! This is a normal thing, okay? This is what normal people do. They get drunk, have sex and do the walk of shame the next morning. There’s nothing wrong with that—” Soph explained bluntly, trying to calm her sister back down, despite it having the complete opposite effect. But when a sudden thought crosses her mind, her blabber mouth just couldn’t help but voice it,“—oh my god though, mum is going to freak...”

Alessia’s back snapped rim rod straight and she spun herself right round to her sister, “You will not tell her about this,” she whispered lowly, “don’t you even dare,” her hazel eyes pierced sharply into Soph’s wide round ones, finger pointed menacingly at her face.

The sister put her hands up defensively, “Okay, okay. No need to be so dramatic,” she squeaked, briefly terrified at her older sister’s stone cold gaze.

“Promise me,” she demanded, her eyes struggling to keep out the desperation in them,“ promise me she will never know of this,” she repeated. She knew how her younger sister could be. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her own life. God knows the amount of gossip that girl has revealed to all her friends and family. All the nitty and gritty. She not only loved a bit of drama but she also revelled in it. Alessia just hoped and prayed that she would instil enough fear into the girl to keep this personal info locked away permanently. Most importantly, away from their mother.

“I promise,” she vowed, the sincerest that Alessia had ever seen her be. But yet, she still couldn’t completely trust her.

She just had too big of a mouth.

Two months gone, and so far Sophie had kept to her promise, but Alessia was still hedging her bets. Life returned relatively back to normal; the girls returned home from their Europe trip three days after that fateful morning. And despite feeling like a completely changed woman after her sexual milestone, the world continued to spin around Alessia as it always did. She returned to her comfortable one bedroom flat with the yellow tea stains still imprinted on her carpet, books and coffee cups scattered across the living area from where she first left them because she couldn’t be bothered to tidy them up before her trip. Her bed was made at least, for which she was eternally thankful for as she felt like she needed at least ten years worth of sleep. Jet lag was an absolute bitch she came to saw.

She was back at work two days later, her body clock still out of whack. While it was nice to catch up with all her colleagues and get back into her routine, she found it quite hard to concentrate when she was yawning almost every two seconds. Luckily, her boss was an absolute gem and completely understood how she felt.

“Oo. Jet lag got you good, huh?” Linda inquired sympathetically, her soft wrinkled eyes observing her knowingly.

“Yeah,” Alessia yawned, rubbing briefly at her eyes before returning to snipping the stems of the daffodils laid in front of her, “I was hoping to be adjusted by now, but I guess my body has other ideas.”

Linda nodded understandingly, “I know what that’s like. It took me almost two weeks to start getting back into my normal sleep routine after coming back from Egypt. You just gotta try and push through the urge to fall asleep during the day and wait until night comes. It’s hard, but worth it in the end,” the older lady advised, continuing with her rose arrangements.

“Thanks, I’ll see how I go. Hopefully I’ll stop feeling tired soon. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve pricked myself today because I couldn’t focus. I almost grabbed one of our cactus succulents by mistake instead of the ferns. Now that would’ve been an interesting endeavour,” she joked, her smile sluggish and eyes dragged down by the dark circles underneath them.

Her boss shook her head at the mention of her clumsiness, “You’re a workers comp nightmare, you are,” she teased lightly, pausing slightly to eye her in concern, “just take it easy today, kiddo. Maybe stay away from all the prickly plants, okay?”

Alessia nodded her head silently, gladly taking on her boss’s advice.

It was a trying few weeks going back to work. Although she had started to get a bit more sleep each night, Alessia just couldn’t seem to shake the lingering fatigue that dragged her down every day. It was like all the energy she should’ve gotten from sleep each night was zapped right out of her as soon as she got up on her two legs in the morning.

“You sleeping alright, kiddo?” Linda had asked on one particular sluggish morning.

“Yeah, actually I’ve been sleeping fine now. But for some reason I’ve still been feeling so exhausted,” she expressed glumly whilst checking over orders.

“Oh no, that’s no good,” the silver haired lady tsked, “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

Alessia paused thoughtfully at her words, “Maybe I am,” she considered, her head tilting slightly to the side, “I have been feeling a bit nauseous lately...”

“Hmm, might be the flu. Nothing a nip of apple cider vinegar can’t fix.”

She rolled her eyes at the older woman, “You and your apple cider vinegar,” she shook her head, “last time you told me it would cure my acne if I rubbed it on my face,” she remarked drily.

“You never know if you don’t try,” Linda sung as she finished tying a bow around a box of natives.

“I think I’ll just check in with my doctor first if it persists. Leave the vinegar as the last resort.”

Her boss clicked her tongue at her, shaking her head disapprovingly, “Stubborn one you are, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of home remedy from time to time,” she defended in a light tone.

“Yeah, well, I might not even need it anyway. This could just blow over any day now,” she pointed out, crossing her fingers in hope.

Unfortunately for Alessia, the nausea and fatigue did not ease up anytime soon. If anything, she felt like she was getting worse. The vomiting started about a week after her chat with Linda, prompting her to take time some time off work, much to the concern of her boss.

“Make sure to take some apple cider vinegar. It’ll help. Trust me.”

Alessia rolled eyes while on the phone with her. She sure was one persistent lady.

She lounged at home for the week, feeling absolutely miserable for herself. The urge to throw up always came at the most inconvenient times, whether it was three in the morning or one in the afternoon after just finishing her lunch. She always ended up right at the toilet bowl dispelling what was left in her stomach. It almost reminded her of that morning in London and she would relive the embarrassment moment all over again puking in Tom Holland’s toilet. She groaned as she rested her head on the porcelain seat. She did not need those memories to come back to her right now; being sick was enough torture.

For a couple days she finally felt like she was on the mend. She hadn’t had a spell of nausea for thirty-six hours. Her appetite returned full throttle with the craving of raspberry jam crumpets, for which she devoured a total of four in one sitting. She couldn’t be more relieved and satisfied that the worse was finally over and she called up work saying she would be back the next day. Her fatigue still hadn’t let up and she would get a few dizzy spells every now and then, but for the most part, Alessia felt fine enough to go back to her to work routine. She missed the flower shop too much; the colourful, cheerful atmosphere never failed to bring joy to her and the wonderful smell of lavender and roses would always lift her spirits. It was like a second home to her.

A couple weeks passed and aside from a few bouts of queasiness and persisting lethargy, Alessia was back in action and arranging bouquets like no other. She was considering going to her doctor to try and tackle this fatigue that never seemed to let up, but hadn’t found the time yet to arrange an appointment. She was keeping herself too busy. Well at least, that’s what her mother said.

“I worry about you, Lessie. You look tired. You never give enough time for yourself,” she remarked out of blue on their monthly lunch date, her eyebrows frowning down at her in concern.

Alessia sighed warily, not wanting to deal with her mother’s fussiness right now.

“I’m fine, Mum. I just think the combination of jet lag and getting sick must’ve overwhelmed my body for a bit,” she reassured as she bit into her chicken salad, “I’m fine,” she repeated. She hoped it would be enough to appease her. It was not.

Her mum observed her for moment, eyes running all over her face then coming back to peer into her soul. They squinted at her sceptically.

“I think you should see a doctor,” she said finally, prompting Alessia’s fork to clank down on her plate.

“Mum,” she whined, picking her fork back up and placing her other hand on her forehead to rub away the headache that was beginning to form.

“What? Don’t ‘Mum’ me. It’s been two months since you’ve come back from Europe, three weeks since you were sick with that bug, and you still aren’t well. That’s not normal, honey.”

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll book an appointment with Doctor Cox,” Alessia grumbled petulantly, stabbing at her salad mindlessly. She was already planning on going to the doctors anyway, but for whatever reason, her mum bringing it up just suddenly made her not want to go now. It was that old ingrained trait of hers in always wanting to disobey everything her mother said. Alessia knew more than anyone that it was hard to shake that annoyance of being told what to do, even when reaching adulthood.

“You’ll book it for tomorrow,” her mother ordered with no room for question. Alessia groaned in frustration, flinging her hands up in the air at her bossiness.

“But I’ve got to clean my bathroom and kitchen tomorrow. Plus I was hoping to find some time to focus on my music, I haven’t played my keyboard since I got back from Europe and I finally have some inspiration to write something. Do you know how hard it is to get motivated to write?” she rambled on, trying to make up as many excuses as she could.

“Alessia,” her mum called out warningly, not taking any of her daughter’s bullshit. Her gaze was strong and deadly, and Alessia shivered knowing the potential wrath behind those eyes.

“Okay, I’ll make the appointment,” the daughter relented, shoulders slumping heavily and eyes closing as she let out a long drawn breath. Man, her mother could be trying at times.

She scheduled the appointment for the next morning, feeling oddly nervous for no apparent reason whilst driving to the clinic. Doctor Cox was a lovely dark woman in her mid forties, quick as a whip and as kind as the sun’s warmth on a spring morning. If anyone knew what was wrong her, it’d be Doctor Cox. As always, her raven hair was woven into a beautifully made braid and her eyes sported a pair of smart spectacles. She greeted Alessia with a warm smile, directing her patient to sit in the chair facing her desk.

“What can I do to help you today, Alessia?”

The girl in question scooted back into her chair, hands folded into each other, thumbs fiddling in her lap.

“Um, I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately, more so than usual. You see, I just came back from a trip in Europe a couple of months ago and had to adjust to the jet lag. So I thought the fatigue was just due to that...but the thing is, I’ve been getting plenty of sleep at night now, at least eight to nine hours worth, and I still I feel sluggish every single day,” she confessed. The doctor hummed thoughtfully, typing out notes on her computer, giving no indication of her thoughts.

“Are there any other symptoms present?”

“Uh, I did get sick about three weeks ago with a vomiting bug, and still get the occasional bouts of nausea and dizziness.”

The doctor nodded, her face still as blank as a canvas. Alessia could get no read on her whatsoever.

“How long did the vomiting occur?” she questioned whilst tapping the buttons on her keyboard like a speedster.

Alessia paused thoughtfully, trying to recall that horrid week,“About five to six days give or take, it was kinda off and on.”

The typing stopped suddenly.

“Off and on how so?” Doctor Cox clarified curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Well one day I would be good, completely normal, and then the next morning I’d be puking my guts out. The vomiting kept on coming and going.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded, returning back to the computer to type some more, “and you said you were getting dizzy as well?”

Alessia nodded her head in confirmation, her right hand pinching her middle finger. She forgot how much she hated all the questions being thrown at her when being examined by a doctor. They just seemed to throw them nonstop.

“How often does the dizziness occur?”

“Um every now and then. Sometimes daily.”

“Have you ever fainted, or felt close to fainting?”

“I have felt faint yes, but haven’t actually blacked out.”

“Are you a vegetarian or vegan?”

“No, neither. I love meat too much. What would life be without bacon?”

“Yes what would life be,” she chuckled, “do you usually have a heavy blood flow when menstruating?”

She paused awkwardly at that one, squirming in her seat,“Um, yes. Usually for the first two or three days.”

“Hmm, okay...” she finished typing on her computer, “and are you sexually active?”

That nearly made Alessia fall out of her goddamn chair.

“Uh...come again?” she squeaked, her eyes wide and hand gripping tightly to the armrest beside her. Memories of London flashed by quickly in her mind; hungover, naked, lying next to a movie star.

“Have you been sexually active, as in recently had sexual intercourse?” the woman repeated calmly.

“Um...” her face flushed in embarrassment, her heart racing in panic, “I- I-” why did she have to ask that? How could that question possibly connect to her being sic- oh god. Oh fricken god. How could she be so stupid? Two months. It had been two fricken months.

“It’s okay, take your time. This is a private place, nothing gets outside of these walls, I promise,” the doctor reached over and placed a hand on her knee comfortingly, waiting patiently for her reply.

“I...” she gulped, her chest heaving as all the pieces started coming together. The tiredness, the nausea, the constant craving of crumpets, “I...um...I...” she was peeing more frequently. She had thought that it was just all the water she’d been drinking lately but...and her breasts! God her breasts had started to ache. She just figured it was a hormonal thing and that she was finally getting her period- god it couldn’t be- she couldn’t be-“...I lost my virginity recently,” she breathed.

Doctor Cox blinked in brief surprise and then adjusted glasses, her calm facade returning back promptly

“Oh. How recently exactly?” she asked cautiously.

Alessia breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, “Two months ago,” she murmured, her entire body slumping as she rubbed away the tension in between her eyes. She could already feel the tears burning beneath her eyelids.

“I see. And when did your last menstruating cycle end?”

“A bit over two months,” she mumbled into her hands, her fingers dragging down her face whilst wiping away her sniffles. Her eyes became red with tears and chest heaved up and down, desperate for air, “am I...?” she croaked miserably, looking at her doctor for any answer that wasn’t what she was thinking.

“There’s no point in jumping to any conclusions just yet,” Doctor Cox interrupted, “I’d like to run some tests before we determine anything. There could be multiple diagnoses for the symptoms you possess and I don’t want to rush into things and make you panic about something that might not even be applicable to you in the first place,” she explained logically, spinning back to her computer, clicking on her mouse and typing a few keys, “I’m gonna write you up for a full blood count, a glucose level check and a hCG test. Basically these tests will tell us if there is any sign of a virus in your system, check how blood sugar level is going and test how high your hCG level is. Your iron count will also be measured which is what I’m most concerned about. A lot of woman, especially at your age, suffer from iron deficiency and your symptoms hint heavily at this diagnosis. However, with the information of your sexual activity and your last menstruation it does lead to the possible conclusion that you are...” the printer screeched back and forth, signalling the deliverance of the test referral, “...pregnant, Miss Carter,” the doctor sighed sympathetically, handing her over the form.

Alessia stared at it with watery eyes, her body unmoving as her doctor voiced the conclusion she had already come to in her own mind. It was finally out there. Pregnant. She could be pregnant. The girl now understood why she was so nervous about coming in today. It’s like subconsciously she already knew what would happen.

“Of course, we won’t know for sure until the test results come back. It should only take a couple days at the most. I’ll let you know as soon as they come in and we can arrange an appointment to discuss the results. All you have to do now is head down to pathology and they’ll run all the tests for you.”

She made no move to get out of her seat, still frozen on the chair and staring at the referral form in her hand. She stared at it but wasn’t actually seeing it, the words and boxes a complete blur to her. How did it get to this? How did she even let herself get into this situation? What the hell will she do? Pregnant. Pregnant. She was-

“As I said, Miss Carter, there’s no need to panic about something that isn’t confirmed yet. My best advice for you is get some rest, clear your mind and focus on the now’s, not the what if’s,” she spoke softly, standing up and placing her hand on her shoulder, “and if it’s any consolation, if the pregnancy test turns out to be positive, just know I’ll be there to help you every step of the way. I’ll answer any questions you have and help you arrange any appointments that you’ll need if it comes to the situation. You won’t be alone,” she reassured firmly, squeezing her shoulder.

Alessia nodded shakily, thankful for the doctor’s kind words and for helping her snap her out of her daze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, slowly standing up and making her way out of the room.

“I’ll speak to you soon,” Doctor Cox farewelled, her warm honey eyes conveying total calm.

Alessia nodded and waved at her awkwardly before making her way quickly out of the office and downstairs to pathology. The tests went by in a distorted haze. Normally she was absolutely terrified of needles, but today Alessia could barely feel the prick going into the crook of her elbow. She couldn’t even hear the voice of the chatty redheaded nurse taking her blood. Everything was submerged underwater. Cold. Quiet. Unnerving.

The drive home was a quick and direct route though she barely made it out alive, having several close calls with multiple cars and unexpected trees that she swear on her life came out of nowhere. Her keys rattled and clanked as she frantically searched for the right one to open her apartment. It took multiple attempts to finally get into the lock but eventually she got there and accidentally slammed the door a bit hard behind her. She couldn’t find it within herself to care in that moment.

She flopped immediately down on her couch, feet resting on one of the armrests and head tilted up towards the white ceiling. Snippets of waking up to a similar ceiling fluttered into her mind, all dazed and disoriented, the memories of the night before nonexistent, blacked out, erased. Her body aching and the warmth of an arm wrapped around her stomach...

That was where it all began.

And now she was left in an agonising state of reliving that memory over and over again, nervously awaiting its consequences.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female!OC #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland love #peter parker fanfiction #pregnancy fic #unexpected pregnancy #tom holland fandom #tom x reader #tom holland fan

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dfhvn · 6 years

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A Day In LA With Deafheaven // Stereogum

Loud Love : A Day In LA With Deafheaven The California screamers open up about real life, baby ducks, and 'Ordinary Corrupt Human Love'

Full article by Larry Fitzmaurice via Stereogum

Everyone has to grow up eventually — even ducklings. “Look, dude — the baby ducklings!” Deafheaven guitarist Kerry McCoy stops as we’re mid-conversation, pointing out a plump of web-footed friends on a small rolling pitch alongside the walking path of Los Angeles’ Echo Park.

“I know! They’re getting big,” the band’s howling lead singer George Clarke marvels, as the two stop to briefly ponder the not-quite-grown, no-longer-young fowl squatting and waddling on the grass.

“I saw them the other day, too,” says McCoy.

“They were more yellow before,” Clarke explains with a level of attentiveness that would make one think he raised the ducklings himself.

I’m here to observe what Clarke describes to me as “what a normal day for us is like,” as Deafheaven luxuriate in the relative calm before the busyness of touring and promo that will accompany the release of their fourth album, Ordinary Corrupt Human Love (out July 13 via ANTI-). These days, Clarke and McCoy are sticklers for routine — and as they recount their regular goings-on to me, it’s slightly adorable that these longtime friends’ day-to-day approach bears close similarity: wake up around 7 in the morning, hit the gym, run some errands, meet up in the park for a bit, and watch a movie or an episode of Billions before crashing out. Both spend part of their day caring for others: Clarke for his grandfather who currently lives with him, and McCoy for a few persistently hungry cats. “I have to stay out until 6 or 7 PM, otherwise they meow until they get food,” he mock-complains with a grin.

Earlier in the day, Clarke and I hit up the Echo Lake outpost of crunchy Cali natural-food chain Lessen’s, as he dumps a variety of salad-bar ingredients — corn, beets, kale, shredded cabbage and peppers, and a heaping helping of steamed veggies, if you’re looking to take on the Deafheaven Diet — into a container. We walk over to the sprawling Echo Park and Clarke unfurls a sizable blanket, festooned with the album art for the band’s 2013 star-making LP Sunbather, before stripping to a white tank-top and laying out belly-down to nosh while we chat about the latest mixtape from Oakland rapper All Black. McCoy joins us soon after along with former member Stephen Clark, who stoically sips from a bottle of water and sucks down a few cigs while the trio are quite literally sunbathing under the LA rays.

All it takes is one listen to Ordinary Corrupt Human Love to deduct that this period of respite is well-earned. Since their alluring 2011 debut Roads To Judah, the band’s dark-arts alchemy of death metal’s frigid rush, shoegaze’s impressionistic swarm, and the emotional catharsis of post-rock has somehow only grown more epic with every release. That’s even more true with their latest record, which at times recalls Mellon Collie-era Smashing Pumpkins and Sunny Day Real Estate’s Diary in its ultra-bright melodic sweep. There are female vocals present, courtesy of West Coast occult-rocker Chelsea Wolfe — as well as actual singing, as Clarke shows off a deeper vocal register beyond his signature burned-out bark.

The personal boundary-pushing and overall prettiness of Ordinary Corrupt Human Love doesn’t so much suggest a newer, shinier Deafheaven as it does a natural progression (or a full realization, even) of the genre-blending hard rock sound they’ve spent most of the decade refining. As tempting as it might be to refer to the album as Deafheaven’s “mature” turn, there’s still a youthful passion that courses through it like a lit match dropped into dry brush — but that doesn’t mean the quintet haven’t gone through some serious personal changes in the interim between 2015’s New Bermuda and now (which marks, to date, the longest gap between Deafheaven records).

“We were 24 when Sunbather came out,” Clarke reflects while discussing the intense emotions and personal strain the band’s been through since that record’s release. “We were still sleeping on floors when we were home, but the rest of the time we were on tour with idle hands and free cash.” He pauses for a second and chuckles ruefully. “Some people are smart — but we decided not to be.”

Before their current residence in LA (Clarke and McCoy have lived in the city for about four years now) and Deafheaven’s teeth-cutting Bay Area days, the pair spent their adolescence scrapping about in the central California suburbs of Modesto. “It was normal,” McCoy describes their respective upbringings, “but it’s all relative. I’m sure Bill Gates’ kids have seen some shit, too.” But he’s quick to note that the relative mundanity of their upbringing also made for a normalization of the intolerance the young punks experienced growing up, too: “I’d just accepted that the way the world went was seeing a giant truck with a Confederate flag drive by, calling me a fag.” (In the middle of this parkside recollection, Clarke interrupts to point out something decidedly not normal: a shirtless pedestrian sporting a full-chest Monster energy drink tattoo. “Check out how lit this tattoo is,” he giggles, as we briefly debate its authenticity.)

When he was 15, McCoy’s father took him to a protest against the Iraq War, and he wore a white armband to school afterwards, which resulted in him getting “destroyed” by his classmates. “We recently went to the March For Our Lives,” Clarke mentions, “and I think it’s really cool that kids these days — even if they’re not 100% informed on stuff — are really making an effort to be. Comparatively, there was no one [in high school] thinking about anything else other than the direct narrative you were given in this small town.”

Music had been in both of their lives from an early age — McCoy’s father once worked as a music journalist, and some of Clarke’s earliest memories include leafing through CD booklets with his mother — and the outsider feeling both of them shared only further deepened their sonic interests. “When you’re living in the Central Valley and you’re into ‘alternative’ things, it forces you further into the hole you’re digging for yourself,” Clarke explains. “You’re already a loser with acne, and now you’re painting your nails for a Misfits show,” McCoy follows up with a chuckle. His first band was a punky high school outfit called The Confused, which self-distributed a CD called What The Hell that everyone in his social circle thought “sucked.” Clarke’s inaugural musical foray was in a band called Fear And Faith Alike that, in his words, “was very 2002 metalcore.”

CREDIT: Frazer Harrison / Getty Images

Clarke and McCoy first became friends when the latter saw “this fool” (Clarke) sitting outside in the rain during high school, decked out in fishnet arm sleeves, a Slayer T-shirt, and a white backpack covered with pentagrams and band names scrawled in Bic. They stayed close as the former bounced around high schools, returning to Modesto after barely graduating in San Jose; after a few failed attempts at forming post-high school bands, the two formed Deafheaven in 2009 after McCoy joined Clarke to share a $500/month apartment in the Upper Haight area of San Francisco.

Deafheaven began as a pretty much anonymous project, to the point where the pair created a Facebook page for the band that essentially positioned it as a one-man act. “We didn’t tell anyone we grew up with about it,” Clarke explains. “We knew if we told people it was us, everyone would be like ‘Fuck off.'” In 2010, they recorded a demo with Bay Area producer Jack Shirley for the cost of $500, a sum which Clarke and McCoy (who were scrambling to even make monthly rent) struggled to pay back for six months.

“This man’s patience is endless,” Clarke speaks admirably about Shirley, whom McCoy refers to as “the Ian McKaye of the West Coast” and “like a straight-edge Marine”; he’s produced every Deafheaven record since. “They were broke beyond broke,” recalls Shirley, whose work with Deafheaven has led him to record acts like Wolves In The Throne Room and Jeff Rosenstock. “It wasn’t a huge deal, though. I try to be patient in those situations, and I’m glad I didn’t [let money get in the way], because it would’ve severed my ties with a band that I have a great relationship with now.”

After the demo made the rounds online, Deafheaven expanded to a full-band lineup and signed to Converge frontman Jacob Bannon’s Deathwish Inc. label, who released Roads To Judah and Sunbather — the latter of which received a profile-raising critical response that metal and “heavy” music in general typically doesn’t enjoy. “We went from a band that nobody really gave a fuck about, to … not the world’s biggest band, but a thing!” McCoy exclaims. “I had an apartment, I moved to LA, I got a girlfriend — life got kind of big.”

The success Deafheaven enjoyed following Sunbather’s release was, for a band on their level, a bit dizzying. Their fanbase spanned kindred spirits like Mono and Explosions In The Sky to rapper Danny Brown and Third Eye Blind’s Stephan Jenkins. On the other hand, the band found themselves unwittingly receiving the indie-TMZ treatment after a Swedish blogger spotted them hanging out at the VIP area of Gothenburg’s Way Out West festival with a Sub Pop representative (full disclosure: I was also present for said hang), ginning up a post shortly after speculating about the band’s potential next career moves — a surprise to the folks back at Deathwish. “I felt so bad,” Clarke says in a tone of sincerity about the accidental reveal.

CREDIT: Gari Askew II / Stereogum

Combined with the extensive post-Sunbather touring schedule, the increased attention on Deafheaven — as well as the pressures of writing and recording the band’s next album, which they’d committed to within a tight time frame under new label home ANTI- — was starting to take its toll on everyone involved. “All this touring and great stuff was fun and exciting, but it blows up your personality with regards to things you have when you become middle-class,” McCoy states. “And you have habits that blow up with that.”

As work on New Bermuda progressed, the pressure of following up their big breakthrough began to wear on the band — hard. Shirley states that, as a “habitually sober” person, he didn’t witness any dysfunction in the recording studio; but McCoy describes the ways in which Deafheaven’s members dealt with the situation as “unhealthy,” and he and Clarke started to literally lose sleep over the prospect of what would come next. “I’d wake up in the middle of the night thinking that everyone was mad at me because the record sucked,” says McCoy, “and we’d all have to go back to Whole Foods — everyone was laughing at us.”

Various substances were on-hand and frequently present during this time — a product of bad habits never dropped and exacerbated by the party-hardy temporary lifestyle that touring afforded. “You’d be like, ‘Well, I gotta be in the practice space for five hours today — better bring two 40’s,'” Clarke remembers. “When you’re touring for five years, your body degrades,” explains guitarist Shiv Mehra, who joined the band along with drummer Daniel Tracy while Sunbather was being recorded. “Drinking doesn’t help.”

Clarke recalls a show in Sao Paulo on the band’s first South American tour supporting New Bermuda as a colliding point for the band’s substance use and personal strain. “It should’ve been insane,” he recalls with a touch of regret, “But everyone was backstage burnt that the booze wasn’t there yet.”

“We were all just sitting there staring at our phones, waiting for whoever — or whatever — to show up,” McCoy adds. “Our entire world wants to come backstage and be the guy to hang out with you, and they know there’s a certain way to do that.”

“We were all still bothered by each other from touring,” Clark, who possesses a quiet yet thoughtful demeanor, states. “We didn’t have any time off from each other for years.” Following New Bermuda’s tour cycle — a period of time he says “quite literally ruined his life” — he chose to leave the band and was replaced by current bassist Chris Johnson, but still remains close with everyone.

“I didn’t handle having money well,” Clark asserts with straightforward conviction. “It was so easy to party, and I was never much of a partier — so I was all over the world having fun, with no longevity in mind. It all came crashing down.”

“It was a dark and bad experience,” McCoy states plainly on the time period surrounding New Bermuda. By the end of the album cycle, everyone was exhausted, and the mere act of being in the band had turned into drudgery.

“It stopped being fun,” Clarke states on his view towards the band at that point. “It became a chore.”

I ask if there was ever a point during this period of time in which he thought Deafheaven would cease to exist. Later, when I relay his answer to others in the band, they’re quick to note it was an exaggeration, but it’s a rough reply regardless: “I kind of thought someone would die,” says Clarke. We’re not gonna break up because we don’t have anything else, but something drastic or scary happening was within the realm of possibility. If anything would’ve taken us down, it would’ve been … tragic.”

When I press on if there were any specific close calls that took place, the three demur, nervously laugh, and murmur to themselves, “Maybe — not really,” declining to elaborate. “When you’re fuckin’ around, you’re fuckin’ around,” Clarke says with an uneasy chuckle.

Clarke quickly follows up: “When you have a problem, you have a problem.”

Work on Ordinary Corrupt Human Love informally began in late 2016 around a single piano riff McCoy had been toying around with, but much of the album was written and recorded from October of last year until this past February. Deafheaven camped out in a cluster of Oakland homes and, after an informal jam session during the first day of recording, found that the time off did them good.

“We finally dealt with all the stuff that made New Bermuda so dark — and when we did, we realized that all that other stuff was junk,” McCoy passionately describes. “When we all got in a room together, I was like, ‘This was the juice of life right here.'”

“It was like we’d been holding our breath for three years, finally let it out, took another one, and said ‘Everything’s gonna be OK,'” Clarke adds.

In truth, there was still a ways to go. To this day, Deafheaven’s members describe themselves as living “healthier” than before, but McCoy is the only band member who’s completely sober, a decision he made during recording late last year after an extended struggle with drug addiction. It’s a sensitive topic for him to discuss, and the details he’s willing to offer regarding his path to sobriety are scant — but he makes it unmistakably clear that things could not go on the way they were for much longer.

“I’d come to a point where I was done being out there,” he explains, “And I was willing to try anything to get off it.” McCoy reached out to a friend, who helped put him on the path to recovery; he’s been sober since late 2017. “My favorite thing in the world was to play guitar,” he states, “And for a long time, I forgot that. Ever since I made this decision, my life has gotten immeasurably better.”

Casting aside the past was essential for not just McCoy, but the entirety of Deafheaven to move forwards after the fraught period of time they were trying to leave behind. “I don’t think anyone who worked on New Bermuda wanted to make another record that sounded like New Bermuda,” Clarke states, who goes on to describe Ordinary Corrupt Human Love as the sound of “people enjoying what they’re doing.” If the aesthetic of the new album reflects the emotions of the people who recorded it, then the lyrical content zooms in on the world around them — the splendor and sameness of peoples’ everyday lives.

CREDIT: Gari Askew II / Stereogum

The universal, explicitly humanistic focus was developed after Clarke began collaborating with photographer Nick Steinhardt to, in his words, “photograph people in their natural habitat.” “I told him I didn’t want anything extraordinary — just people in their everyday routine, looking at a snapshot of someone in their day and just drinking it in,” he explains. The album’s cover features an anonymous woman in Los Angeles’ Civic Center area, her scarf blowing in front of her face; the inlay art features a child holding out his hand to his mother as he prepares to cross the street.

McCoy describes the album cover as “a potential alternate version” of the iconic album art for Radiohead’s The Bends, and Clarke cites the tinted-hue portraiture of Belle And Sebastian’s visual art as a parallel — both comparisons serving as reminders that, despite their roots in heavy music, their palettes span far beyond what genre purists might come to expect.

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And if Deafheaven’s genre-agnostic approach seemed polarizing around the time of Sunbather, it seems weirdly prescient now. In a way, the 29-year-old McCoy and Clarke are indicative of the landscape-flattening streaming generation, in a good way. Sure, it’s easy to bemoan the age of the algorithm and the fluctuating state of discovery for budding music fans in the digital age. But it’s even easier to forget that discovering “good” music used to possess a distinct social element not far off from joining the football team in high school: Are the indie kids any different than the jocks if they still bristle at people joining their lunch table?

For Deafheaven’s and younger generations, discovering new music is easier than ever, and if you’re willing to turn discovery into creativity as they have been, the possibilities are endless. And anyway, even though Deafheaven’s earlier work was sometimes overshadowed by the band’s perpetual and ineffective battle with the metal scene, the band’s members have since learned to hang with the genre misconceptions. “My girlfriend sent me a screenshot about how ‘Honeycomb’ has a punk section — that’s textbook Oasis!” McCoy says with an easygoing laugh that speaks to a greater truth when it comes to getting older. Sometimes it’s easier to just let old grudges go.

Despite the cloudy forecast, it’s a bit brighter of a day than we’re expecting. With the threat of sunburn fast approaching, we pack up the blanket, take a leisurely walk around the park, and head to the 826 Time Travel Mart. The Mart’s a funky Sunset Blvd. spot funded by the Dave Eggers-founded nonprofit 826, featuring arch, kitschy items ranging from giant dinosaur eggs to a powdered concoction called “robot milk” — but McCoy’s less invested in the temporally-out-of-whack wares on display than he is in the tutoring courses being offered in the next room of the nonprofit-funded space.

An employee explains the programs offered as McCoy listens intently, and when Clarke returns from grabbing a coffee nearby he does similarly. At first blush, the thoughtfulness and social investment that the pair show during my time with them might seem too fitting of a narrative for a band trying to straighten up and fly right — but such character traits often come with growing up, too.

“Nikki Sixx was 27 when shit got really bad and he tried to clean up for the first time,” Clarke points out as our time comes to a close, before McCoy has to go check on the cats and Clarke’s grandfather needs help getting his computer fixed. “We reached that age too. We want to take what we do seriously and have a career — and to eliminate the things that get in the way of that. If you don’t die at 27, you can do a lotof shit.”

#Deafheaven #Stereogum

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fortuitousmind · 6 years

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World Suicide Prevention Day: Sharing my Story

Contains material strongly centered around suicidality.

September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day and I am deciding to use this as an opportunity to tell a story that few people know and is excruciatingly difficult to tell. I am not sure how my extended family or new friends will receive it. I have some old friends who have a general idea but have never known the details. People know I am a strong advocate for positive mental health without really knowing why. Here I am, about to be brutally honest about my story publicly for the first time. I apologize for how long this post is going to be.

I want to begin by saying that I am in no way looking for pity or apologies. I do not want anybody to feel bad for me, or to feel like they could have done better. I am simply sharing this because it has truly shaped me as a person and allowed me to transform into who I am today.

On May 5, 2013, I attempted to end my life.

I didn’t come close to death by any means, but in the moment I genuinely believed it was enough for me to not wake up in the morning. I didn’t want to wake up in the morning. I hadn’t in a long time.

I am not going to share how because I refuse to give other people ideas as to how they can make my mistakes. I am just going to say that it happened, and leave it at that.

I had only been out of my intensive outpatient treatment for three months. While my anxiety improved tremendously after completing the program, my depression worsened significantly. I am not sure if it was triggered by being placed on a new medication (a major side effect to watch for when starting psychiatric medication is suicidality), or if I just couldn’t handle the pressure of living anymore. It was probably a combination of the two. Mix that with dangerously low self-esteem, few genuine friendships, constant feelings of inadequacy and failure, and mental illnesses that were improperly treated— it was the perfect storm.

It’s not to say that my treatment wasn’t helpful; my anxiety was finally under control. The other treatments just weren’t targeting the correct problems. I was on the same antidepressant for five years and had to stop taking it on my own when I realized that it was only making me worse. It took five years to finally receive the diagnosis of Bipolar II disorder (instead of Major Depressive Disorder) that allowed me to understand why the antidepressants weren’t working. I was struggling with disordered eating. I had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) that wasn’t even acknowledged by a mental health professional until I was 20. In short, I was a mess.

I had convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of anybody’s time, that I wasn’t worthy of help, that I wasn’t worthy of survival. I felt like a burden to my family. I spent most of my time alone in my room because I couldn’t have conversations without having them turn into screaming matches. I had absolutely no social supports because I isolated myself from everybody I knew in order to minimize any damage I would have caused with my company. I didn’t even say goodbye.

On May 5, 2013, I woke up in the middle of the night and decided I couldn’t take it anymore. It was time for me to go. So I tried.

And I failed.

The next morning was a Monday. I think my mom knew something was wrong because I just came and sat on the couch instead of getting ready for school. I don’t remember how the conversation went— I don’t even remember if there was a conversation. I just remember my mom calling my psychiatrist and telling her I’d hurt myself pretty badly, but then having to call my psychiatrist back myself because it was an attempt to die, and then having to go to the hospital to get checked out before they could ship me off to a psychiatric facility.

The medical hospital decided I was fine, so they decided to send me to a psychiatric hospital for further treatment. They wouldn’t let my mom drive me; I had to ride there in an ambulance by myself. There was no music. The person in the back didn’t even speak to me. Facing backwards while driving made me nauseous.

I waited in the psych hospital’s emergency department for hours. My parents drove and met me there. I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want to see my mom sad. I didn’t want to fight with my dad. It happened anyway. I was not a good person.

When they finally admitted me, there was no room on the general adolescent unit, so they placed me on a unit meant for adolescents with eating disorders. I was up there for a week and my journal indicates that my head was all over the place. One moment I was writing about how much I loved it and wanted help and wanted to get better, the next I was talking about how much I hated it and needed to leave, the next I was talking about how much I wanted to die and that it would never get better for me. It was cyclical and constantly flipping back and forth. Looking back on it, it was a major indicator of my BPD.

The doctor up there could not help me. The only things he did were prescribe me acne medication, tell me that yawns are contagious across cats, dogs, and humans, and increase the antidepressant I had just started to quickly that it made me physically ill. It took days to get antibiotic medication for my injuries. It was gross.

After about a week, I was transferred to the general adolescent unit. The transition was not smooth. They did not tell me I would be leaving the other floor until the time came for it to happen. I had to pack all of my things to be moved. I was having a panic attack as it happened and when you hyperventilate for so long, the lack of oxygen to your extremities makes it nearly impossible to move your hands. They saw it as an act of resisting so they had security closing in on me (at least it felt like it), which made my panic attack even worse. I had a genuine fear of men and it was terrifying to have someone so large and strong be so close when I was completely vulnerable.

Downstairs probably would have been fine if my roommate hadn’t threatened to hurt me the first time I saw her. She didn’t, but it was a constant fear of mine. We had a lot more therapeutic groups and less free time than upstairs.

My visits were not good. I truly believed that I was not worthy of love from my parents and unconsciously did things to try to prove it to them (thanks, BPD). I was a horrible daughter. I said horrible things. I physically and verbally lashed out at home. I needed them to hate me to the extent that I felt like I deserved. They never did. One of the worst feelings in life is looking back on how many times I made them cry.

While I seemed to be doing better (to my doctors, my family, the milieu staff), I was still fighting suicidal thoughts on the inside. Pretending to be okay became my default setting, as I had already spent two and a half years perfecting the art. It really sucks when people only see the outside and then don’t believe the truth. Working in a psychiatric hospital now, I can say that it probably seemed like I was trying to sabotage my discharge and get them to keep me longer. In reality, I just wanted more help.

One evening, the roommate that I was afraid of changed rooms. I woke up to a new person sitting at the end of my bed staring at me. She had taken my glasses from my cubby and placed them on my chest. It was the most uncomfortable moment I have ever experienced in my life. I had nightmares about it. Luckily, that was the day I ended up getting released.

My discharge didn’t go smoothly. I was not ready. I clawed at myself. I yelled at my parents. I cried a lot. The only good thing was that I got to breathe fresh air for the first time in two weeks. When I got home, I barricaded myself in my room. I screamed. I cried. I pushed my dresser over and it destroyed all of the knick knacks my grandmother had gifted me over the years. I still haven’t forgiven myself for this.

Once the two weeks were up, I went back to school as if nothing happened. I don’t think many people noticed I was gone. Those who did notice didn’t ask questions. I went to therapy twice a week. I finished the school year. A month later, I moved away from the only place I’d ever known.

There are still days where things are bad. There are still days that I wish everything would end. Now I am on the right medication, am actively involved in my treatment, and am pushing to be the best I can be so I can use my experiences to help other people. I have the skills to push past these feelings and the resources to turn to if I feel that I can’t. I am no longer afraid to reach out for help before I am in too deep.

For anyone who is struggling, I can truly say that things get better. Without this experience, I would have never realized how desperately I want to help others get through similar struggles. I would have never found who I really was. I would have never found who I wanted to become.

If you are still reading, thank you for listening to my story. If you need support, resources, or don’t know where to start with getting help, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. If you need a friend who gets it, I got you. I’m here to listen to anybody who needs it. My goal is to spread hope.

I survived. Back then, I truly wished I hadn’t. Now, I am eternally grateful that I did.

#trigger warning #mental health awareness #world suicide prevention day #hope #survivor #bpd #borderline personality disorder #bipolar disorder #anxiety #depression #recovery #mental illness #positive mental attitude #fortitude

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atcmicorgasms · 7 years

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ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Oh Gayeon

Nickname: Grace, Gracie

Reason for name: Grace was given as a sort of nickname for Gayeon when she was younger and it’s always stuck, so as she’s gotten older, she’s started using Grace as the name

Birthday: May 31, 1989

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Place of birth: Grace was born in Wichita, Kansas

Places lived since: Grace lived in Wichita until she was two before her family relocated to Athens, Georgia. Grace moved to Los Angeles to attend UCLA and has stayed, pursuing an acting career

Parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations: Grace was born to Oh Jin Young, who ran his own carpentry business and Oh (nee Kim) Yoo Ne, a real estate agent. Jin Young and Yoo Ne (who would go by Jin and Yuna, respectively, at the time) met in college at the University of Kansas as lab partners in a biology class and ended up being in the same Psychology and English 102 later in their college careers)

Number of siblings: 2, Junior and Sora, Grace is the middle child.

Relationship with family (close? estranged?): Grace’s relationship with her family is distant. She still will talk to her family, but traveling to see them doesn’t happen very often. Her parents weren’t too excited about her leaving the nest but it’s something they’ve been slowly working past.

Happiest memory: Easily her acceptance into university.

Childhood trauma: Grace chooses not to talk too much about any of the actual major traumas that have happened during her childhood and instead chooses to recall the time she had been caught smoking pot underneath the bleachers and the punishment she received from there.

Children of his/her own?: none

If so, relationship with their mother/father?: n/a

Age he/she gave birth/became a father: n/a

PHYSICAL

Height: Grace is 5′9

Weight:

Build: straight

Nationality: Korean-American

Disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): Grace has PMDD, which gives her more severe symptoms than the average PMS.

Complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birth marks): Grace has a noticeable tan, and has finally gotten control of her adult onset acne, although she’ll get very nasty flare ups the week leading up to her period.

Face shape: rounded

Distinguishing facial features: the apples of her cheeks are very prominent when she smiles

Hair color: Brown

Usual hair style: Grace is self-conscious about her ears (Although she’s been told on numerous occasions that they’re perfectly normal) so her hair is usually kept down.

Eye color: brown

Glasses? Contacts?: none

Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Grace honestly is Target girl at heart, so nine times out of ten, she’ll find things from the clothes section in Target, she doesn’t really have a distinct style or anything typical.

Typical style of shoes: Give Grace tennis shoes or sandals any day.

Health (is this person usually sick? or very resilient?): Grace got a ton of ear infections as a kid and despite getting a flu shot every year, she tends to fall victim to the flu or a nasty bout of pneumonia if she’s lucky enough to avoid the flu.

Grooming (does she/he wear makeup? shower daily? wear only clean clothes? pluck her eyebrows?): Foundation and eyeliner are Grace’s go to for make up looks. Grace showers daily, if she skips a day, she ends up showering twice in the next day that she does shower

Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: At any given time, you can find her with a simple chain necklace with some small accent piece on it (like an arrow or feather) and bangles, and about two rings on either hand. Any of the cuff style bracelets are reserved for when she’s dressing up.

Accent?: She’s worked very hard to get rid of any trace of an accent, although it’ll still slip when she’s talking to certain people or saying certain words.

Unique mannerisms/physical habits (bites nails, talks with hands, taps feet when restless): Grace tends to lick her lips a lot when she’s nervous and if she starts to feel any sort of embarrassment or awkwardness when talking to someone, she’ll wiggle in place.

Athletic?: She loves doing the high intensity workouts and pilates

INTELLECT

Level of education (high school drop out, undergrad BA/BS, PhD, MD, etc.): Grace has a bachelor’s in sociology and has looked into going towards social work if acting doesn’t pan out

Level of self esteem: 6.3

Gifts/talents: Grace has a great memory and she’s good at wrapping presents.

Shortcomings: Grace can be incredibly naive and fairly easy to upset, she’s been working on being in better control of her emotions, especially when she’s due for her next cycle.

Style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): Grace has a medium volume of speech, she speaks at a fairly quick cadence and her voice is a little more on the huskier side

“Left brain” or “right brain” thinker?: Right brain

Artistic?: She’s good at coloring and has made some sort of name for herself, albeit small in acting so there’s some artisticness there

Mathematical?: Not at all. She was able to scrape by in her math classes and had to study five times as hard to make sure she really understood a concept and as soon as she was done having to take math classes, she was super happy

Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: Emotionally

Neuroses: a mild hypochondriac. She visits webMD way too often for anything small to turn it into the mountain she does

Life philosophy:

Religious stance: Buddhist

Cautious or daring?: A little bit of both

Most sensitive about/vulnerable to: Some of the major life choices she’s made.

Optimist or pessimist?: Optimist

Extrovert or introvert?: Extrovert

Level of comfort with technology: Like a 7 or 8

RELATIONSHIPS

Current marital/relationship status: Single

Sexual orientation:

Past relationships: 2

Primary reason for being broken up with: Location and it just being a short lived thing

Primary reasons for breaking up with people: Long distance

Level of sexual experience: 4

Story of first kiss (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen?): A middle school dance, it sort of just happened by accident

Story of loss of virginity (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen, if at all?):

A social person? (popular, loner, some close friends, makes friends and then quickly drops them): Grace is social when she needs to be. She’s very comfortable reaching out to network, but she can also be a huge homebody.

Most comfortable around (person): Herself

Oldest friend: A friend she made in George

How does he/she think others perceive him/her?:

How do others actually perceive him/her?:

VOCATION

Profession: Grace is an aspiring actress

Past occupations: She helped out with data entry in her dad’s business and has worked in the mall

Passions: Music, cat cafes, going to the beach

Attitude towards current job: She likes it

Attitude towards current coworkers, bosses, employees: It really depends on the gig

Salary: Depends on the gig

SECRETS

(Every character—no matter how minor—should always have secrets!)

Phobias: She has a reoccurring nightmare of her going into any room in her home and the lights not working

Life goals: Just to be recognized

Dreams: Win an award

Greatest fears: losing her family and not finding out for a long period of time

Most ashamed of:

Most embarrassing thing ever to happen to him/her: Her brother telling his best friend that Grace had a huge crush on him when she was thirteen

Compulsions: She buys one of those decorative birds from Target every season

Obsessions: practicing for hours, even after rehearsal or performances are finished

Secret hobbies: Ghost shows

Secret skills: Did I mention that she’s also really good at putting shelves up and even crafting some shelving units

Past sexual transgressions: nothing completely naughty

Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): staying out past curfew, underage drinking and smoking

What he/she most wants to change about his/her current life: Nothing

What he/she most wants to change about his/her physical appearance: Nothing

DETAILS/QUIRKS

Daily routine: It varies on when she wakes up

Night owl or early bird?: Early bird

Light or heavy sleeper?: Light sleeper

Favorite food: Give Grace all the pasta and starches in the world

Least favorite food: But if Grace has to eat another cheesecake she will lose her mind

Favorite book: She really likes Danielle Steele novels

Least favorite book: Lord of the Flies

Favorite movie: Clueless

Least favorite movie: she really doesn’t have a least favorite, she just doesn’t watch the ones she doesn’t like very often

Favorite song: Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks

Least favorite song: That Ed Sheeran song that’s getting played all the time

Coffee or tea?: Coffee

Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: She’s allergic to peanuts

Type of car he/she drives (or wishes he/she drove):

Lefty or righty?: Lefty

Favorite color: She likes the magenta-y color the sky can take during a really pretty sunset

Cusser?: No

Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: More of a social drinker than anything, she doesn’t smoke, or hasn’t since she’s moved.

Biggest regret: Not talking to her brother and sister more

Pets?: She has a maltepoo named Charlie that she constantly posts about on her social media.

#Grace ( about )#i just want a queue

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greenishbucket · 7 years

Text

Something About You

The bottom line is Larissa could theoretically approach Camilla and something could happen. 1.9k, also on ao3.

For Day 5 of OMGCheckPlease! Women Week 2017: Gender/Sexuality Identities

It's not like Larissa has a real crush on Camilla Collins, not like she did on Raj in junior year of high school.

They'd been art buddies since second week of freshman year and he developed some of the worst acne Larissa'd ever seen, like, for real, but she'd still got flustered around him and his hair had been thick enough to lose a hand in. Not that she'd ever done that, or thought about it at length. And he'd been kind about her art when she forgot how to draw limbs or complete a clean block print for like a whole fucking month straight outta nowhere, as well as crazy good at physics which Larissa appreciated because she needed his notes to pass. He'd liked all of her updates on FB; still did, last being an arty pic Claire had taken of Lake Quad and Larissa had deemed worthy. He'd sat with her and her other friends at lunch sometimes and there had probs been some mutual crushing going on in hindsight.

Whatever Larissa's feeling around Camilla is something for sure but it doesn't have the familiarity of Raj. It’s a crush from afar. Larissa feels her face burning whenever Camilla’s near even though they’ve never really spoken, her eyes catching on Camilla’s arms and the curl of her hair and lame ass butterflies erupting in her stomach whenever Camilla laughs. Sure, she also imagines what it'd be like to go over and talk to her and what their first date could be like but it's not the same.

It’s kinda weird for a girl to be attainable, for one thing. Like, Larissa’s had crushes on girls before but their sexuality had always been an unknown, keeping the whole possibility of approaching a distant idea and something she’d played around with but not legit considered. Camilla goes to the same LGBT events that Larissa drops in on and is loud and proud about being bi in a way Larissa feels but doesn’t think she can replicate, busy still thinking too long before she talks; Camilla’s bright and friendly and possible and it draws Larissa in. Larissa thinks her crush is pretty reasonable by all standards, maybe even a rite of passage. Frosh Experience no. 38: Get crush on Camilla Collins.

The bottom line is Larissa could theoretically approach Camilla and something could happen. It’s wild.

She feels over-warm with the potential of it the first half of the semester, stuck between the desire to never do anything with the feeling and the fear that if she doesn’t she’ll regret it. Her art friends give her some shit about it - chirp, chirp, she thinks, thinking back to Shitty’s hockey guys she’d been introduced to the other day - and it’s chill but it kinda blows a little, how much they push it even when Larissa feels a little fragile about what to do with it. Not that she says anything because that’s not her style but still. Beyond that, nothing really happens until they’re all at a nice but a little try-hard party and Camilla is there, looking for a beer pong partner.

Larissa knows she’s a fucking pro at beer pong and so do all of her art friends with her (in spite of the intense angsty persona she’s carefully cultivating to project with them). They all turn to look at her when one of the tennis girls lifts Camilla’s arm, advertising her as ‘pretty fucking solid, wrist game off the charts, someone claim this lovely lady and become a legend!’. Next thing she knows she’s marching up to Camilla Collins - Camilla Collins - and offering to pair up, a couple of ‘get it!’ hoots just audible over the noise. Larissa can feel sweat in a nasty layer all along her back as she speaks and she can see now where Camilla’s smudged her mascara at some point in the night which, to be honest, only makes Larissa more nervous because smudged mascara has never looked more appealing.

“’Sup, I’m Larissa,” she says. She’s resisting the instinct to stick her hand out.

“Camilla,” says Camilla like Larissa doesn’t already know. “You think we could win this thing together?” She looks Larissa up and down like she’s calculating and its a commitment to competitiveness that Larissa admires.

“Chyeah,” Larissa says, because her heart might be beating a bajillion beats a minute but chyeah.

It seems enough to convince Camilla. She gives a slightly sloppy high five that Larissa just manages to meet and then the game is on.

Despite more than a few drinks between them, they more than hold their own. It’s like they can’t miss the cups put in front of them and the other pair across the table knock over so many that it starts to get ridiculous. Camilla’s arms are tight and toned around Larissa when she pulls her into a hug after a particularly slick manoeuvre and Larissa feels dizzy with it all, floating off her feet like none of it is quite real. It’s probably the alcohol but she can’t ignore how much of it is the anxiety-exhilaration of something could really happen here.

The alcohol is what Larissa chooses to blame when Camilla drags her to the kitchen for water, laughing and talking fast over the music about how amazing they both were, and Larissa can’t stop staring at the strength in her hands as she does the most mundane of all fucking tasks in getting them two plastic cups of water. The way that with how close they’re standing despite the relative emptiness of the kitchen, Larissa can smell how Camilla’s perfume is mixed with clean sweat and she nearly tips the whole cup down her face she’s so distracted.

The alcohol is definitely what Larissa chooses to blame when she chucks all her usual reserve and caution out the window and leans in to kiss Camilla the second they’ve both put their water down.

Larissa knows she isn’t bad at kissing, she had practice with some guys here and there in high school, but she can only assume Camilla must be some kind of expert because it feels pretty fucking stellar. Warm and a little wet and sending so many signals all over the place Larissa feels like her mind’s blanking out. She can’t believe she’s kissing a girl, that’s it’s something that’s really happening and - she knows it’s stupid, she understands sexuality all right - that it’s ridiculously hot, her heart racing and stomach hot, and she’s really bi, she isn’t imagining it or faking it.

She realises half a second later that she needs to pull back a moment, that the reality that she’s kissing Camilla Collins and she’s a girl and they’re surrounded by people at a party is suddenly way heavy on her shoulders. Larissa thinks she could probably kiss Camilla for a few more hours at least just for the physicality of it (because shouldn’t there be something else? It feels amazing, it's just where’s the fizz of a crush-fantasy made real?) but right now she needs a moment.

The kitchen feels set adift from the party in the aftermath of the kiss. Larissa keeps her eyes on the sticky-looking floor, breathing deep. She can’t look at Camilla quite yet, even as Camilla’s hand is still on the small of her back.

“Larissa...” Camilla starts and Larissa knows that tone of voice. Gentle, cautious, getting Larissa’s back up immediately because she’s not fucking delicate.

That is, she feels pretty delicate at the moment actually but she doesn’t need Camilla to recognise that. Probs would prefer this entire exchange was just skipped straight over until she felt a lot less delicate, actually.

She looks away from the sticky floor and up at Camilla whose mascara is still smudged and whose eyes are still hazy with alcohol but who also looks concerned and unsure, softly apologetic. It's not anything Larissa ever wanted to see from her.

“Yeah?” she says because not replying would probably just make it worse.

“You seem like an awesome, awesome girl and, like, I’d love for us to be friends or something,” Camilla says, hand still on Larissa’s back and body still so close, “and I’d love for us to play beer pong again but I don’t know that we should do this. It’s not- I mean- it’s just- you get it, right?”

Larissa doesn’t get it. She has a lot of questions. Why did Camilla kiss her back for so long? Why has Larissa’s crush become suddenly 2D and finite, rather than exploding with the satisfaction of a really great kiss? What’s wrong with Larissa in Camilla’s eyes that even a kiss is too far - is she too shy? Not pretty enough? Too eager? Why did all her friends push them together like this and why did Larissa let herself get pulled along?

Maybe Camilla can tell Larissa doesn’t know what she’s doing yet, that she’s got an obvious crush that increasingly seems to be probs because, what? Because Camilla is the first girl Larissa’s found attractive that could find her attractive back, the first girl she could look at and think that could really happen the way she did with Raj? Not even like with Raj, who she knew. With Camilla, who really is hot and would probably be an amazing friend but, now she's staring it in the face, what is Larissa's crush really actually about? Larissa hardly knows Camilla enough to have a crush on her. Not the kind of thinking-of-the-future crush her mind had been skirting around lately; they've spoken, like, twice before today.

And, fuck, there's nothing wrong with just liking someone physically but if that's the deal with her and Camilla then why had she pushed so many feelings into it? To make it all more legit, more I'm-not-faking-to-be-hot? Like a girl can't just find another girl hot and then find some other girl hot and want all the romance stuff and have those both be legit? That's bullshit and Larissa knows it is and she just wants to be passed all of this being a baby bi shit already - she thought she already was - and have all the kinds of experience with girls, none of this shitty confusion.

And Camilla has had a front row to this mess, been pulled into it unknowingly. This kind of uncertainty isn't something Larissa is ever gonna want anyone to see. She is more embarrassed than she can put into words, feels prickly and awful all over.

“Yeah, I get it,” she says. “No problem.”

They both take a step back, putting the space of the sink between them.

“Well, I guess I should go,” Camilla says after a beat, gesturing back towards the party. “Thanks for the beer pong.”

She looks awkward and still apologetic and she’s still pretty enough Larissa finds it hard to look straight at her without blushing but she’d really prefer if she left. The lingering elation and mixing with humiliation and uncomfortable vulnerability makes for a horrible feeling in her chest that she’d rather be alone with.

Larissa stays in the kitchen a little longer once Camilla goes. Her hair feels too close and hot around her face, messed a little where Camilla’s hand might have been in it for a second, and she resists the impulsive urge to chop it all off. She ties it back in a painfully tight pony tail and returns to the party.

#omgcpwomenweek #my writing #hope this like.... makes sense

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xmutantsrpg-blog · 7 years

Photo

Name: Rowan Hawthorne

Alias: n/a

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Powers: Cell Manipulation - Rowan is able to manipulate the cells in his body or anyone else’s, provided he is able to make skin on skin contact with them.He is able to shape and manipulate the cells of any sort of organism, including plants. This allows him to grow new cells or drain them of their energy, causing the host body to fail and shrivel.

Key Traits: + Quick Thinking + Attentive + Loyal - Brutal - Choleric - Reticent

Affiliation: Hellfire’s School for Mutants - but will help out any mutant, regardless of affiliation

Date of Employment: July 14, 1985

Room number: 25A

Job/Role: Works in the med centre, healing wounds and handing out bandaids

Known Family: Kimberly Hawthorne né Jones (ex-wife) and Lucille Marie Hawthorne (daughter - deceased)

Personality Type: Chaotic Neutral

Anything Else: Trigger warnings for his origin story: Abuse, Child Death, General Violence and an unedited, very long origin story. If any of these are triggers for you, I will send you a less detailed history. Please don’t hesitate to ask!!

Origin Story:

Growing up in a small town, Rowan Hawthorne had a very normal childhood. His parents were both working class people who, despite not being very wealthy, were able to give him and his siblings a roof over their heads and three meals a day. When Rowan’s mutation activated, there was a period of shock, of mourning the loss of their child’s innocence. He wasn’t sure how they would all react and to this day, showing his parents his mutation is one of the most terrifying moments of his life.

After a few months the family fell back into a normal rhythm and life went on. Rowan slowly learned to control his powers, practicing first on his own body, and then trying out new techniques on the local strays. He cried every time one of them died and buried them in the field behind his house, each one inscribed with a small stone marker. When Rowan finally moved out, there were over fifty stones of varying shapes and sizes hidden beneath the tall grass.

He was fifteen when he met Kimberly. A recent transfer student, she quickly established herself as someone who shouldn’t be antagonized. By the end of her first month she’d been sent to the principal’s office at least ten times and each time she fell into her seat next to him, Rowan fell more and more in love.

Their first year together was rocky; she wasn’t used to trusting people and no matter how many times Rowan promised her he would never leave, he knew that the soft smile she gave him was purely superficial. It seemed that his words alone could never carry an impact strong enough to make a difference.

Kimberly rarely talked about her father - he was gone and that was all Rowan needed to know. Gone and never coming back. He didn’t ask her about the scars on her skin, didn’t ask why she flinched every time he came up behind her without warning. He didn’t have to - the signs were staring him right in the face. Instead he adjusted his behaviour - made sure to knock or call out when he entered a room. Entwined beneath the bed sheets, he would kiss every scar, would whisper kind words into them, as if by pure force he could take away their negative past.

They were curled up on her couch, finally watching the new action movie they’d both been dying to see, when the yelling started upstairs. Kimberly’s face went white and she pushed him into her room, making him promise to stay put until she came back down. Rowan waited until her steps faded before quietly sneaking up the stairs and peering out through a crack in the wall.

He watched in horror as an older man (he assumed her father) brandished his fists around, smacking first her mother and then Kimberly. Rage boiled up inside of him until he was slamming the door open. Stalking towards the unkept man, Rowan stood and placed himself right in the line of fire. He ignored Kimberly’s cries to move, to run, to hide and faced down her father, daring him to throw another punch.

Of course, to Kimberly’s dad Rowan is hardly a threat. Barely sixteen, a mess of gangly limbs and acne - absolutely nothing about him screamed intensity. Except for his eyes. Those eyes that promised pain and revenge should he even flinch towards him.

Kimberly’s dad couldn’t see those eyes or perhaps didn’t want to or just didn’t understand what they meant. He scoffed and before anyone could react, punched Rowan square in the face and sent him flying, a loud crack ringing out as he collided with the wall. Stumbling towards his prone body, Kimberly’s father laughed as Rowan slowly stood back up, blood pouring from his nose. He went to swing again except this time, Rowan caught it and watched the blood drain from her dad’s face as his hand began to weaken, the healthy colour disappearing as it was replaced with a dark purple. When Rowan was certain that the fist was beyond any human repair, he let go and with all the might his scrawny body could muster, shoved him towards the door. That was the last time they saw him.

Later that night, once Rowan had been patched up, Kimberly told him everything. More than once that night tears fell and as the sun came up the next morning, it saw the two of them curled up on the couch, arms clutching as tightly as possible to each other.

The years pass quickly and it’s not too long before they’re kissing each other under a canopy, in front of their closest friends and family. Married life isn’t much different from their previous lives - they both still work and see friends and know that when they come home, they’re coming home to someone who has seen their darkest parts and has still stayed.

When Kimberly shows him the test, hope and fear shining in her eyes, he’s speechless and before she can shut down, misinterpret his silence, he’s picking her up and swinging her around the room. They’re going to have a baby. A baby.

Her pregnancy seems to last forever, their baby girl determined to stay put for as long as possible. Once she finally arrives into the world, she screams and cries - settling down only in her mother’s arms.

Lucille Marie Hawthorne - Lucy for short.

Life goes back to normal - or as normal as one can be when they’ve got a six-month-old-baby. They’re all so happy and things finally seem to be heading in the right direction. Nothing can break their stride.

And then it does. Unemployment is up and the construction company Rowan is working for goes under. Kimberly picks up more hours at the law firm but it was his salary that was paying the bulk of their bills. They begin to rely on food stamps - their days spent outside in order to soak up as much sun as possible before heading back inside to their dark house.

One day, while they’re waiting in line, Kimberly spots a flyer taped to a light post. Ripping it from it’s spot, she reads it aloud to Rowan. Wanted: Strong people with special talents - must be shown during the interview. They both know what that means - the powers that Rowan worked so hard to gain mastery over were in demand.

His interview was brutal and that night he said nothing, just curled up on their bed and let Kimberly hold him. The job started right away and she could only watch as each day he came home, his eyes seemed just that much colder. The money had returned but as she lay with her back to her husband, Kimberly’s eyes filled with tears as she wondered at what cost?

It’s a human gang that’s running the organization he works for and his job is simple. Make the people who are thrown into his room talk. Often times they’re disheveled business men, men who had lost bets or have taken out loans and are late on making their payments. So when a boy who can’t be more than seventeen is tossed inside, Rowan can feel his mouth go dry. This is not what he signed up for. He would not kill and torture children. For the first time since joining this life sucking venture, Rowan says no and lets the boy out, tells him never to come back.

That night he frantically packs his family’s bags, bringing only the necessities and the large stack of cash they kept under their bed for emergencies. Kimberly’s just grabbed their daughter when the front door is sent flying off it’s hinges and in steps the two mutants who are normally sent to retrieve people.

The fight is over before it can even begin - as Rowan launches himself towards them, the smaller mutant dodges and brings his energy covered hand to Kimberly’s throat. Her knife drops from her hand as she cradles their baby and Rowan knows he’s been beat.

Head hung low, he makes his way out the door, stopping when Kimberly starts screaming. He had expected the other mutant to follow behind and as he looked back in horror, the world seemed to slow. Kimberly is being held back by one hand as the mutant slowly brings his other towards Lucy, a green glowing energy surrounding it.

Rowan howls as Lucy’s body slumps to the floor and his vision goes red. Turning on the mutant next to him, Rowan grabs him by the neck and slams him back against the outside wall. His fingers grip tighter and tighter and he can feel the cells dying underneath his hands, can feel the blood start to slow until the skin beneath his fingers is purple. With a loud yell, Rowan rips the mutant in two before stalking his house.

Kimberly brandishes her knife at the mutant that killed her child, tears streaming down her face. Her mouth is open, she’s screaming - Rowan muses. Everything has gone quiet and all he’s focused on is the mutant currently crouched on the floor, a smug look on his face.

Rowan dives for him, can feel the energy push against his chest but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that his Lucy is laying on the floor lifeless and his life is over. His fingers scrabble for purchase - he only needs to connect with one part of the mutant’s body to activate his powers. Skin brushes against skin and Rowan pushes all the anger and death and sadness through that one point of contact, a hoarse cry leaving his lips.

When he finally comes back to himself, he’s laying next to a shell of the former mutant - the cells had degraded so much that bits and pieces of his body were just flaking away.

Kimberly is sobbing, the limp body of their four-year-old pressed tightly to her chest. This wasn’t what he wanted. He was supposed to protect them. They were his family. As their eyes met over the dead bodies between them, Rowan knew - this was something they could never come back from.

The funeral was a quiet affair. They hadn’t put her into classes yet, had wanted to keep her all to themselves for as long as they could, so it was only family and a few neighbours who watch the undertaker lower the small coffin into the grave.

Kimberly packed her things that night, moved back in with her mom. At least that’s what the note had said. He had held it so long that the words were nigh unreadable and no matter how much he smoothed it, some of the words were gone forever.

What did it matter now? What did anything matter? His family was gone, dead and so was he.

Over the next four years, Rowan fell in once again with the gang. His job seemed so much easier now, life seemed so much easier once he could no longer feel. People screamed and begged and he just stared at them, watched passively as they slowly realised they would never be able to get through to him.

Until the day she comes through. A tiny woman, she carried the wrath of the sun within her and Rowan was struck by how much she resembled Kimberly. She hit him and called him names, never once allowing the fear to set in, her eyes blazing with fire. For the first time in four years, Rowan can feel his old self calling out to him, reminding him that he once believed in doing the right thing and creating life instead of taking it away.

They leave that night. He sneaks her away under the cover of the moon, gives her money and food and tells her to run. Pleading, she begs him to come with her, to come away from this life of torture and pain and to find himself again. It’s an offer he can’t even consider. He doesn’t deserve a happy life, doesn’t deserve forgiveness. The most he can do is help others. She leaves him standing at the train station with a name. Hellfire. A school where other people, other mutants, like him are gathered in order to train and hone their skills.

And for the first time in a very long time, Rowan can feel hope fluttering beneath his breastbone.

Lucille Marie Hawthorne - Lucy for short.

When he finally comes back to himself, he’s laying next to a shell of the former mutant - the cells had degraded so much that bits and pieces of his body were just flaking away.

What did it matter now? What did anything matter? His family was gone, dead and so was he.

And for the first time in a very long time, Rowan can feel hope fluttering beneath his breastbone.

#xmyearbook #rowan hawthorne #au rp #abilities rpg #superpowers rp

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aquarianlights · 7 years

Note

I am the anon who asked about nexplanon. I thought it could trigger you, that's why I didn't go into details. I wanted to know if it stops your period or if you are still bleeding? Hope I've been more clear.

Gonna write out a fuckton of details, putting the important things in bold…and then put a completely bolded TL;DR at the end:

I really appreciate the not wanting to trigger me. I thought maybe that was why you didn’t go into detail. That is really respectful and I really appreciate it, but for future reference for you and anyone: If it is medical, scientific, or for educational purposes and does not reference my parts sexually or treat me or my parts as sexual objects and I still remain male in the eyes of whomever is asking me questions, I don’t mind explicit detail.

I really appreciate that, though.

As for the answer….It’s a little complicated.

This is my replacement nexplanon. I had one for three years prior to this one. I got my replacement one put in on 11/22/2017.

With my FIRST nexplanon…the first three years I had it…I didn’t bleed at all. The one and ONLY time I spotted (did not get a full period and did not get ANY associated symptoms…just simply spotted) was when living with my ex-girlfriend and her husband. My ex had VERY alpha-essque hormones. I spotted tiny, tiny bit when living with Chelle but it was so unnoticeable that I didn’t even have to use a pad.

It is completely normal for anyone with female parts that has nexplanon to actually get a full period (even with all the associated symptoms) for the first few months after insertion… And, IF I UNDERSTOOD MY NURSE RIGHT…..(I may not have, coz I’ve been in a total daze this past week+), it’s even possible for people with the appropriate female parts to have full periods with associated symptoms every month on time for the entirety of their time with nexplanon. But every single person I’ve talked to who has nexplanon said that’s really not a thing and their periods, if they got them AT ALL, went away almost immediately after the first few months.

I have a bleeding/clotting disorder that especially affects my periods (and is also something I have to alert tattoo artists to which is why a lot of my tats come out unfinished). When I got my first period at the age of…maybe 13? I was hospitalized because I clotted so badly and I almost bled out entirely. They suggested I take my uterus out immediately because this wasn’t something that was going to go away and I would need to be on a VERY STRONG BC for the rest of my life that either eliminated bleeding/clotting altogether or made it to where I bled/clotted like a normal person’s period, which would still be awful. ALSO, my periods last approximately 2 weeks, give or take a couple days each time. This is normal for my entire family on my mother’s side…it would put my mom and her mom and their mom before that and all my mom’s sisters out of work and out of school and stuff the entire time every month of their period. They didn’t have it as severe as me because they didn’t have the bleeding/clotting disorder to worry about. But they did have as severe cramping as I had that was as bad, if not worse, than labour pains (spoken from women in my family who have been through it, some multiple times). They DIDN’T have something that I didn’t get until my late teens, early 20′s…and on… until I got my nexplanon. The psychological effects of the period. Every single time I got my period, I would wind up in a hospital the day before I actually got it because of the most extreme and impulsive suicide attempts you can imagine. I have NEVER felt such extreme psychological instability as I have when on my period. It’s like…every single disorder I have gets amplified by a million and they all clash and I’m unable to control anything and suddenly my body and mind act on their own and I’m no longer in control and I black out and wake up in a hospital or while being dragged, kicking and screaming, down the hall by orderlies to the floor with a ward on it. The hallucinations, the BPD symptoms, the other schizo symptoms, the homicidal and suicidal symptoms usually being taken over by suicidal, the self harm urges, the inability to make decisions for myself, the panic attacks while all of this is happening, flashbacks to rapes and being in wards and being trapped and sex training and all sorts of different things that i cant remember, …the list goes on and on. ALL AT ONCE. I just wake up and get FLOODED with all of these things all at once and Killian shuts down and idk what or who takes over but whatever does instantly goes for the most dramatic, impulsive, instantaneous, shocking, grandiose, suicidal gesture you could ever imagine that always seems to be in public (lets break a glass mirror in public with your brass knuckles and slit our wrists and throat open with a huge shard where everyone can see, why don’t we!?) so I mean, you can only imagine how many times I’ve been thrown right on the ground by a cop and cuffed and taken in. This is usually the day BEFORE my period. Also, I starve on my period. I starve naturally coz I’m anorexic…but it takes willpower to starve during non-period times and times when I’m sober..During my period…I can’t eat anything coz I always feel nauseated, my two lower quadrants are always in such intense throbbing or stabbing pain that I’m writhing and screaming despite heating pads and normally a dilaudid or fentanyl drip at the hospital, the thought, smell, and visual effect of food makes me feel….full? Idk how to describe… It’s not nauseated. But it makes me feel so full that I couldn’t force myself to eat even if I wanted to. And since my period lasts a MINIMUM of two weeks, give or take a couple days, I usually end up on IV nutrients, too.

I’m explaining all of this because I’m needing to explain WHY it is so important that I chose nexplanon over…say…The Pill or an IUD or something. I’ve heard that the Depo Provera shot works for people who can’t handle nexplanon and vice versa. Well, when I tried the Depo Provera shot, I wound up having the effects of an anti-depressant on me…in other words, it made me so insatiably suicidal that I ended up in a ward within a couple hours of getting the shot. Depo worked HORRIBLY on me…I didn’t even get to see if it worked for any of my period symptoms coz it had to be flushed from my system entirely coz of the EXTREME psych effects it had on me.

But Nexplanon….Nexplanon was my saving grace.

Coz not only did I literally NEED the bleeding/clotting to stop….But I NEEDED ALMOST ALL of the associated symptoms to stop. I think the only things that weren’t either life threatening or debilitating were mild acne that happened very rarely each period (never really had to deal with acne in my life) and the bloating/water retention. Very specific, certain mood swings associated with periods were something not life threatening or debilitating either. Just…annoying and a total bitch to everyone around me hahahaha. I slayed with my words and popped off on anyone…Yikes. But it wasn’t like my BPD mood swings where 0 to 100 in less than a second on being euphoric and suicidal almost simultaneously.

I explained all of that because I need everyone to realize I chose nexplanon and not anything else because almost everything about my period (the bleeding/clotting AND almost ALL associated symptoms) were life threatening AND debilitating and had almost killed me so many times, it was terrifying. Since my parents obviously did not agree to get my uterus taken out and since I haven’t had the money to get mine surgically removed and donated to a wonderful transgirl (got three of you lovely ladies in mind! you all know who you are!)…I needed a BC medication that was going to stop EVERYTHING. Not just “the period”. But the ENTIRE period. The bleeding/clotting and ALL associated symptoms.

That BC was either Depo Provera shot or Nexplanon. One works, the other doesn’t…it seems to be that way with everyone. I tried Nexplanon first. That worked well. I forget why I tried Depo inbetween but you just read how nearly fatal that was for me…

ANYWAYS…

So this is my second time on it. As I said, It was put in on 11/22/2017.

The removal and replacement went smoothly and it’s been going smoothly……..until this month.

What I am experiencing is normal for a NORMAL PERSON. A NORMAL PERSON with a NORMAL PERIOD would be okay with these symptoms. Problem being….Idk what symptoms are associated with what because:a) I’m switching my migraine medication to something that causes certain side effects until it levels out in my systemb) I’m having what a normal person would consider a full periodc) Optical and chronic migraines are happening simultaneously and they are debilitating to the point of making me bed-ridden if I don’t take my old migraine med along with this new one (which I’m not supposed to be doing)d) I’m getting a rheumatoid diagnosis and seeing a rheymatologist soon (they’re gonna probably schedule me tomorrow for a week to a month out…month at the longest) for either a lupus or fibro diagnosis, but they’re also going to check for hyperalgesia presenting in the kicked puppy/”flinching disorder” way and there are a FUCKTON of new symptoms I’m experiencing because of whatever this auto-immune disorder or rheumatoid virus (or both) is and my period actually could be happening BECAUSE of all of thise) I added a new exercise regime in when I really haven’t exercised every day and night consistently since I got diagnosed with chronic costochondritis for fear of cardiac arrest, which I fear even more now that I’m on a med that makes it to where I can’t sweat, BUT….exercise is good for joint/muscle disease/virus/pain/etc etc etc…f) I’m under a LOT of stress and pressure regarding so many things but right now it’s primarily school…getting into a pre-med tailored general biology major and a good university to switch to a medical major and pass the MCAT and do a FUCKTON of things simultaneously in order to get into medical school (trust me, you have NO idea how many non-scholastic things you HAVE to do to even be considered an applicant at p much every med uni)… I mean, I’m enrolled in three different colleges right now and I’m taking 6 vet tech related medical classes right now and will be taking 2 general ed classes on campus 45 minutes from here to finish a different degree…so I will have two associates band a bachelors by the time I’m moving on to my doctorate (coz med majors don’t get their masters, we just move from bachelors to doctorate for some reason)g) FAFSA is another time constraint stress that is KILLING ME and scholarships and such….h) Getting into the “back to work” program with disability, trying to find a job, trying to find internships, keeping up with seminars, paperwork stacked a mile high that is all deadline, deadline, DEADLINE…I’m going to a bazillion, million doctors who are all 3+ hours away and a lot of them are turning me away at the end of the visit because they “just don’t know what to do” and “this is above [my] pay-grade” so specialists refer me to other specialists who just refer me RIGHT BACK to those other specialists and then it’s an argument on whose specialty it is because the symptoms are literally from head to foot in me and no one knows what the fuck to do to help until I see a rheumatologist so it’s MORE THAN STRESSFUL driving 6+ hours almost every day of the week to go through extensive medical exams and testing only to be told they can’t help me/don’t know what to do/recommend…….and refer me someplace else….. and also all the hospital visits I’m ending up having to endure… alone… because my roommates are an “every man for themselves” type of roommate situation….i) Being put on a new medication I’ve never tried before, Lyrica, and playing around with the dosage myself and pushing it up to 600mg a day sometimes when I’m prescribed 200mg a day (100/100 day/night) and the max legal dose for my issues is 300mg/day…not to mention I’m not being consistent with it at all…and I was supposed to titrate up from 25mg to 75mg because it can affect my psych issues the first month but I just started on 200mg per day anyways coz I’m an idiot and have a self-medication problem (hence why tons of psychs have discharged me…rightfully so)j) moving in general and getting adjusted to new roommates and a new state and a new city and a new environment in general….k) getting used to a new style of support that I WANT AND NEED OVERALL but can’t handle and don’t need specifically right now when I’m just now getting diagnosed and transitioning through all these things…L) my HRT doc finally cleared me for T after working with her and the HRT board with PPH because it was dangerous with my psych issues….and then all of a sudden all of these physical issues popped up, forcing me not only to change my entire moving plans, living plans, schooling plans, autonomy timeline, Echo timeline, screwed with my financial stability I had going on MAJORLY, a TON of other things….and then ONCE AGAIN…barred me from being eligible for HRT because it isn’t safe anymore and until I get a full, complete workup and diagnosis, as well as find out what medications I’m going to be on and the dosage and they level out in my system and we all see how they’re going to affect me…….HRT is not an option….so I have to wait EVEN LONGER….to transition….M) relations with my parents became more strained than ever lately which is odd because normally being away and being unable to be physically abused makes things better and healthier between us…but suddenly, I’VE become the abusive one…. I’m fucking lashing out at my mother every chance I get and that’s normal for chronic illness diagnosis and stuff but blacking out due to anger is not… and idk where the anger black outs are coming from…and there are other black outs…N) Shit going on with my grandparents that SHOULDN’T be going on as well as with my father that SHOULDNT be going on and only people who truly know my father and me and what has gone on between us and who he really is can comment on this (which those people I can count on one hand), but I hope to god he dies before I can get to him…Jesus fucking christO) ……I can’t go on with specifics anymore, I’m bad with list but SUFFICE IT TO SAY…..

I HAVE A FUCKTON OF STUFF GOING ON SIMULTANEOUSLY AND I’M DOING ABOVE A NEUROTYPICAL LEVEL OF ADULTING EVERY SINGLE DAY. Like….WAY above. Above an able-bodied level of adulting, too! Above a neurotypical, able-bodied person’s adulting workload every day…. Which is scary.

I’m mentioning all that because all of that is apparently stress related. Apparently if there is enough stress in your body, it can release certain hormones. And those hormones, if powerful enough…like…if the stress is powerful enough…can cause a period in people. For people who aren’t on BC, it can cause them to have it at irregular times (ie; having it right after having finally stopped it… having it twice in one month…having it once in 3 months….etc etc etc).

That list is the major things I can think of off the very top of my head that are going on with me at this very moment… It is POSSIBLE that all of that is the cause of me having a normal person’s flow and all associated symptom’s at a normal person’s level.

WHAT I MEAN WHEN I SAY NORMAL PERSON: I mean… A normal flow as in… +NOT going through over one of the biggest maxi pads available every half hour/using a singular biggest maxi pad available maybe every 6-8 hours, +NOT being bed-ridden due to cramps/being able to stand up and walk and walk up and down stairs on my own when I have cramps and be out and about if I NEED to and stand the duration of a shower with cramps, being able to eat if I need to, +having zofran or phenergen work when nauseated, +having actual acne that I clawed to shreds with my nails so it’s very noticeable (I’ve had acne less than 10 times in my entire life so it’s a little distressing to see it on my face coz idk how to deal with it, but I had to claw at it until the convex forms turned concave and started gushing blood…so now it looks like two, big, perfectly round, bright red, blood-coloured spots on my face that I claw open every morning till they bleed and claw at during the day and smother in neosporin during the night), +the clotting is about half the size of my fits and comes out only when I pee/sit on the toilet (normally, the clots are the size of my fits or bigger, which is why a D&C surgery is necessary if it were happening again, but my hands are very small…VERY small…probably smaller than President Tiny Hands…so half the size is not that bad),+Bloating/water retention to where my pants/shirts don’t even fit but my weight hasn’t gone up…but, man, it hurts my soul and my mind so badly that it makes me want to hurt myself for self loathing purposes which I haven’t wanted to do in a long time and kill myself for being obese and hideous despite the fact I know this is temporary.+Mild headaches/NOT MIGRAINES OR HEADACHES THAT HAVE ANY SORT OR LIGHT OR SOUND SENSITIVITY,+NORMAL mood swings that are not akin to BPD or bipolar disorder at all and aren’t bad enough to cause any fights, either with others or with myself,+NO Suicidal thoughts or suicidal ideation…No instantaneous suicide attempts…no insatiable self harm urges,+This may be specific to me, but cravings for weird things like the feel of blood or the smell of the ocean,+Either an entire lack of appetite or a voracious appetite+Putting off adult responsibilities with a NORMAL amount of guilty conscious applied to it and not a “Jesus fucking christ, you’re absolutely useless, ON TOP of being obese and ugly, you really DO need to kill yourself RIGHT NOW because look at all the things you need to do and you’re not, you lazy piece of shit child” but more of a “You’re being lazy lol, but it’s okay…tomorrow is a new day. Fuck it. Fuck being an adult. I am NOT adulting today!”+INTENSE craving for chocolate…ALL the time… Like, not cheap chocolate, either. Like… mandarin orange infused godiva chocolate… All day, every day. Fuck.+Breasts swelling to almost a whole new cup size. Been having a hard time using the normal sized chest binder I use because my breasts swelled or retained water/milk/whatever so much. I don’t think they hit C’s, but my smaller B-cup bras which is what I normally wear to bed didn’t fit. Regular sized B-cups are normally WAY too loose on me to wear to bed and my girls will slip out during the night so I always have to find the tight, little girls training B-cups instead of, like…the ladies. I can fit into an A, but it’s just slightly too tight and a little too uncomfortable, unfortunately. I was an A my whole life until I got on antipsychotics. Hopefully T will bring them down to the smallest A possible and I can go down in my binder size.+Heightened sensitivity to pain and heat

Here’s a lack of symptoms I have entirely despite the fact I have my period that normally accompany MY period which also make this a “normal” person’s period:+No homicidal thoughts/desires/actions (thoughts past the normal)!+No suicidal thoughts/desires/actions (thoughts past the normal)!+No impulse spending to the point of spending the entirety of your money.+No sudden development of bipolar disorder but only for the duration of your period (a psych has confirmed this with me and gone over it with me and why I am bipolar on my period and not BPD and how this can be and how it is similar to a drug induced mental disorder, ie; drug induced schizophrenia, so I’m not just like…pulling this out of the blue, I swear lololol)+An ability to remain calm and level headed during arguments or fights if there even are any and turn things into a debate or a joke/satirical conversation instead of an argument like I normally do+No sudden surge of a loss of interest in things I love (which was hard to do to begin with since I lost everything I loved to depression over the years so this feeling of losing my passions during my periods was very soul crushing)+No getting triggered by noise, like… Being mentally overloaded by noise everywhere. I know there’s a word for this and it’s normally associated with autistic people but I’m blanking coz I’m not autistic and I don’t usually experience this and a cacophony of noise actually soothes me usually, tbh…lol.+No being overly sensitive to other people’s words and actions and no reading into and over-analyzing everything everyone says and does+No extreme panic attacks that are actually mental based and not physically based (I have panic disorder, which means I don’t get any sort of mental symptoms with my panic attacks because panic disorder does not have any association with anxiety or anxiety attacks or panic attacks that are caused by mental stuff… so my panic attacks are always purely physical…during my period, they can be started mentally…which is impossible for me otherwise)+No odd fears popping up that I overcame a long time ago (ie; phone phobia making me have a panic attack if someone calls me and making me unable to answer the phone or call anyone I need to, balloon phobia, needle phobia…actually, you know, I’m still not quite over balloons yet…I thought I overcame it about like…4 or 5 years ago but then my coworkers tied balloons to my car doors as a prank and I had a panic attack and broke down crying and had to have one of them come cut them off for me lolololol…so idk about that one, but you get my examples, right?)+No losing the conscience I have built up over the years and maintained so that I can force myself to stay away from being abusive and neglectful to people I love (ie; gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, pressure, charm, using my unique charisma for evil, threats, homicidal actions, conditioning, etc etc etc…) which comes with being BPD since I cannot feel empathy or sympathy and cannot “put myself in someone else’s shoes” due to ANOTHER disorder so I have made my own conscience and I lose it during my period because it’s made up and I have to be very self aware to keep it in place coz I don’t have a conscience naturally like most people do.+No hallucinations, auditory and/or visual+No catatonic moments+No psychosis, temporary/intermittent or permanent enough to need intervention+No purposefully making a dramatic scene in public in order to elicit a response from professionals and the crowd around me to come try to take me away to a ward so I can fight them+No lying without even realizing I’m doing it or meaning to about REALLY weird things to get attention (The things I lie about without realizing I’m doing it until after I’ve already done it while I’m on my period are INSANE!!!! It can range from something as innocent and benign as like… lying about the weather to a long distance friend…”Yeah, it’s raining outside. So nice.” When it’s fucking sunny as hell and making me miserable??? To something as big and severe as “I have a gun pointed at my head right now. I’m ready to do it. I have nothing left to lose.” Bitch, I can count the number of times I’ve held a gun to my head on one hand and it’s a VERY low number because it’s always been my dad’s gun and I’ve only been honest about holding a gun to my head to like… my ex girlfriend and one of my friends. That’s it. Yet, I have said this line so many times on my period without even realizing it until after I’ve said it and when it’s already been said it’s kind of a *shrug* “Welp…oh well…I guess…Too late to correct it…” sorta thing…So I go with it and just put on a whole act and it feels totally normal when I’m on my period??? My period turns me into a really fucking crazy, manipulative, evil little boy…)+Trying to steal the spotlight from others irl to get attention on me (ie; I can’t think of a real example, so I’m making up one: A coworker blacks out during a shift so they have to call 911…when the paramedics arrive, I go start unloading boxes, using one of those retractable blade thingies to open the boxes, while everyone is watching our pale, actually in distress coworker be loaded onto a gurney… I would go as far as to literally stab myself or slice a VERY deep wound in my hand or even chop the front part pad of a finger off (which I really have done before) just so I can scream (for real coz it hurts and it makes me yelp in surprise) so that everyone will turn their attention onto me and one of the paramedics will grab me and take me with them in the ambulance and I will go to the hospital with them and get all the “Omg are you okay? What happened? Did [x] really happen? Were you really in the hospital? Omg blah blah blah ATTENTION blah blah” as soon as I get back and it will rip ALL the attention away from the coworker who actually deserved it and actually needed…that’s not an actual example, I made that up, but I would not be surprised in the least if I did something like that while on my period if I were working rn and this happened)+Impulse stealing from corporate stores just for the adrenaline rush and to shove it to “the man”+Majority of my life, it was Cry and sob and cry and sob and writhe and pull my hair out and claw at myself and sob with full body shakes because of how much mental pain I was in because suicidal feelings definitely overpowered homicidal, but now and before my original nexplanon was put in 4 years ago…like…the very very very last period I had…Going out and looking for a fight with strangers…a physical fight…that I damn well know I will lose coz I’m a 5′2″ obese boy with absolutely NO muscle… SIMPLY TO GET MY ASS BEAT AND FEEL THOSE ENDORPHINS RUSH AND FEEL THE ADRENALINE PUMP AND THEN DIE OUT (similar to cutting)… Or just go to a bar and get in the most gruesome bar fight ever… Or find a human-like substance… and stab it over and over with a knife and beat it in with brass knuckles… Threaten people with knives… Etc etc etc …. Basically a bunch of homicidal stuff that I experienced the first two days of my period but now it’s gone coz the homicidal definitely overpowers the suicidal now+Such extreme apathy AND lethargy that I could lose whatever job I have at the time, go from a solid 4.0 to failing all my classes, and lose placement and lose progress in absolutely EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING I’m attending/working towards/doing/etc+The extreme apathy and lethargy bleeds into self care, too. No showering, no brushing your teeth, no washing your hands, etc etc etc…

I can’t think of anything else, but there’s probably more…Idk. But Anyways…EVERYTHING ABOVE IS SUPPOSED TO BE MASKED MY NEXPLANON COMPLETELY!

What I am CURRENTLY experiencing…is the first list. The one prior to the one right above this one. Normal bleeding/clotting and a normal level of psychological and other physical symptoms.

However…this has never happened to me before…

During my first three years with my first nexplanon, it took less than the first month for ALL of my symptoms to go away and I didn’t even spot the first month. That’s kinda what it was like up until JUST NOW with the nexplanon. No spotting or associated symptoms or ANYTHING until….literally just a few days ago…Maybe even a week ago now. The bleeding has slowed to the point where I don’t need anything other than a thin pad now. The cramping has slowed to where I don’t need a heating pad all the time. The mood swings are gone… I’ll admit, the first two days I got my period, I wanted to kill myself so badly and I most certainly did self harm. I slit the fuck outta my wrists and was SO CLOSE to going for the 20-minute-kill-zone. But I didn’t. Thank GOD I didn’t do it…Also, the first two days were abnormal for me in the fact that I wanted to eat EVERYTHING. NONSTOP. I was SO HUNGRY. Normally my period makes me so nauseated and makes me want to stay away from food so adamantly that I can’t even force myself to eat to stay alive so, like I said, I usually end up on IV nutrients in the hospital during the second week… My hunger returned to normal level on the third day and then has gone to the forcing myself to eat to stay alive bit now because I’m never hungry and I’m looking at food either makes me feel full or nauseated. Smelling food definitely makes me feel nauseated unless it’s chocolate. Lmaoooo! I am prescribed both phenergen and zofran for different reasons, though, so I just pop some zofran and it normally takes care of it to where I can force myself to eat something to stay alive or to not have a hypoglycemic attack. Coz now if I don’t eat something (even if it’s just a fucking spoonful of peanut butter or a cup of orange juice or a bar of chocolate—listing those 3 things coz they’re the top three best things to bring someone out of hypoglycemic shock) within 24 hours, I will notice my blood sugar bottom out and I will go into hypoglycemic shock and if I don’t immediately take care of it, I need to be hospitalized. Which is why I ALWAYS have chocolate on hand and ALWAYS have orange juice in the house. Don’t always have peanut butter on hand…but I should. I also have chronically low blood pressure and for some reason that affects my blood sugar and how easily it can crash and such? I’m not quit sure how (med student here and I have no idea the physiology of this stuff lol….wow) but I have to pay SUPER SPECIAL ATTENTION to BOTH of those things (blood sugar and blood pressure) during my period…because if my BP bottoms out and I don’t get help, I go into a coma. God forbid it fucking happens while I’m sleeping which…since I take metropolol (migraine med which drops my BP coz it’s a BP med) before bed and go to sleep with ambien which lowers my BP double (ambien and sleeping lowers your BP) AND IF I’M ON MY PERIOD ON TOP OF THAT….my BP will just plummet…and if I’m sleeping, there’s no chance at getting help or found or anything… I’ll just go straight to a coma. Same with hypoglycemia. Which is why I make sure ESPECIALLY ON MY PERIOD to eat something chocolate or peanut butter or both…and drink a bit of orange juice before bed…just in case. Coz being in hypoglycemic shock is scary af…the few times I have been…being TOTALLY helpless like that…totally disoriented… totally at the mercy of whomever finds you…feeling yourself slipping away…. unable to call or move for help…that’s TERRIFYING. Lemme tell you…and MY PERIOD CAN MAKE THAT 20x WORSE. JFC.

So….

Tl;Dr: Yes, I’m bleeding this month… 3 months after getting it put in. I’m having what would be considered a “normal person’s” period with a “normal person’s” symptoms…nothing I’ve ever experienced myself with my own period. So this is a fucking miracle period, but it still sucks and is still terrifying.I chose Nexplanon because no other BC (other than I’ve heard Depo does this for some people?) not only stops the bleeding/clotting COMPLETELY, but also stops ALL associated symptoms, both physical and mental/emotional/psychological. Which…almost ALL (I can’t stress ALL enough; there’s barely any that ARE NOT) symptoms associated with a period have the potential to be fatal to me, including the mental/emotional/psychological ones. So a BC that stopped them all entirely is what I needed since my parents wouldn’t consent to taking my uterus out via surgery which is what doctors recommended over and over and over again and when I became an adult, it was too costly and is STILL too costly. So Nexplanon + the T I’m going to be getting on are a beautiful combination for stopping EVERYTHING.Apparently, it is NORMAL to have a period the first few months on Nexplanon, albeit I did not experience this with my first nexplanon and only experienced true spotting ONCE with my first nexplanon the first 3+ years I had it in when my hormonal alpha female ex-gf got her fullblown period and I was living with her and her husband and sleeping in the same bed as her. I only got spotting. No associated symptoms, physical or psychological.This time around, I am having what would be considered a normal period for a neurotypical person with no uterine problems or vaginal problems or bleeding disorders (I have vaginismus, too, so that factors in somewhere).The bleeding seems to have stopped entirely today, making it last around maybe 5-6 days, which I think is the “normal” time for a “normal” person.

Most associated symptoms have left. The ones that remain are: Bloating, Breast swelling, Aching/Sore body (but that could be associated with the lupus/fibro/hyperalgesia diagnoses going on with me because the joints are the worst with sore-ness and aching),Mild, spontaneous headaches,Extreme heat sensitivity,Acne (but that could be because I literally clawed both spots open with my nails until they started gushing blood and now I keep clawing them open every morning and all the time throughout the day….so I mean..??? I’ve never dealt with acne. Idk how to deal with it. I’m just putting neosporin on at night.)

I am expecting these things to go away… The headaches, aching/soreness, and heat sensitivity could be associated with other illnesses going on with me that I’ve never dealt with before and don’t know what to expect. But I know damn well the bloating and breast swelling is from this…and I know the acne is from this, as that was confirmed by a doctor (coz I was scared about it being from something else) but I think it just hasn’t gone away because I keep clawing at it and making it bleed. If they don’t go away in a week, I’m gonna let my gyno know and see what she can do/recommends.

The first two days of this were ALMOST as rough, psychologically, as my normal period and the cramps and clotting put me in the hospital and warranted a high dosage morphine shot, 800mg of ibuprofen (and a script for it) and a hydro (and a script for it).

The ONLY thing I’m worried about recurring other than the cramps and clotting and psychological symptoms is that… I don’t know if the physical black outs are related to my period or if they are related to my auto-immune disorder (lupus/fibro/hyperalgesia) because when I first got diagnosed with a joint-related virus, where they took x-rays that showed a virus of some sort was physically eating away my joints…I was literally blacking out for a couple seconds every 5-15 minutes. That was about a month ago. Now I have almost a full solid diagnosis, but I’ve thrown two new medications into the mix (Lyrica, which I’ve never been on before, and Topamax, which this is my 6th or 7th time being on) and a lot of new things/stressors/lifestyle changes in general… but the other day. ..maybe 3 days ago now? 2? It happened again. Blacking out for very short amounts of time…approximately 10 seconds every 5-15 minutes…but towards the end of the day, I blacked out so badly that I was out for a solid 20 minutes, give or take, and since I blacked out in the kitchen, my head either hit the tile floor or a counter when I went down and since I have a bleeding disorder AND it was head wound, even though it was barely even a surface scratch at all (it’s practically healed now, 2-3 days later), it bled badly enough in those 20 minutes or so that when my roommates came home and found me blacked out in the kitchen, there was a small pool of blood around my forehead. One of them was panicking and had me in his arms and was shouting LEON! LEON! WAKE UP! LEON! OMG ARE YOU OKAY!? WHAT HAPPENED!? CAN YOU HEAR ME!? LEON!!! Meanwhile, he turns to his boyfriend while I’m slowly coming to as he’s shaking me and shouting one of my many nickname’s at me…and he tells his bf to call 911…which is when I snapped out of it (sort of) and used a Scully catchphrase and pushed myself off of my friend and held up an accusatory finger to his boyfriend and was like …quoting that artwork of Scully in the jacket that I love, saying in a very slurred voice “Stand aside! I’m a medical doctor!” Which…lmao. I started giggling. They didn’t get the reference coz they’re not Philes… But I managed to make them understand to please not call 911… That was the last time I blacked out that day…but it was for a solid 20 minutes and I had been blacking out and throwing up all day that day…experiencing both chronic AND optical migraines simultaneously… the clots were bigger than ever and I could feel the flesh being ripped from my uterine wall and slowly oozing out of my vagina. It was the worst feeling. They were almost as big as my fist at this point. And I was so lightheaded and experiencing so much vertigo…but I have been experiencing constant vertigo and lightheadedness since this virus hit me and since we started researching into it and looking into lupus and such.

SO I DO NOT KNOW IF THE BLACKING OUT IS ASSOCIATED AT ALL WITH THE PERIOD….OR IF THE PERIOD IS ASSOCIATED WITH THE LUPUS AND SUCH WHICH IS WHAT THE BLACKING OUT IS ASSOCIATED WITH…OR IF BLACKING OUT IS JUST SEPARATE….

And Idk if this period is a one time thing…or if I’m going to get it again…because, although it is nice to experience a “normal person” version of a period, it’s STILL HELL ON EARTH. It’s nice to know my life is not in danger from a normal body function…it’s still awful and my life is in danger via my psyche and how it affects me psychologically very close to the same as my normal period the first day or two days… Idk if I can overcome it and JUST hurt myself the next time I have it.

But it seems to have…stopped…now? Today?

If it happens again next month at the same level, I’m going in to my gyno to talk about other options or to see if there’s a way to get medicaid or the state to pay to get my uterus surgically removed. The state would have paid when I was 13…sigh. Idk if they will now…

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

To answer your question simply? Nexplanon is supposed to stop your period and ALL associated symptoms COMPLETELY. However, as you know, every person is different and everyone will react differently. I was bleeding and did get a “normal” level period for about 5-6 days that is not entirely gone, but the bleeding has stopped now. This did not happen the first 3+ years I had my first Nexplanon. But this could be attributed to a fuckton of things going on with me (that I explained above for this reason exactly), personally, and may not have anything to do with the Nexplanon itself.

I hope that answers everything….Coz I put some thorough af work into all of that. Lmao. But if you (or anyone) needs clarification on anything or has any other questions, Nexplanon is kinda one of my maxed out skill trees that I know a whole bunch about, having had it for over 4 years already and am on my second one now. Lol. Feel free to shoot me an ask!

[edmdma.tumblr.com/ask]

Gonna attempt to tag for triggers coz this was sorta graphic if you’re not really into medical things. Tell if you’d like these kinda posts tagged with something specific.

#personal #nexplanon #nexplanon implant #implant #birth control #bc #b c #birth #control #birthcontrol #nexplanonimplant #progesterone

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