#guys sometimes I think about the amount of pain I experience on a daily basis and wonder

[sassmill]

OW

[lloydskywalkers]

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

[soldrawss]

pls grace us with those headcanons of the human turtle bois 🥺

OK ok ok ok ok okokokokokokok I’m so fucking glad you asked because I’ve been wanting an excuse to talk about my boys for AGES now. Here and here a post I did a little while ago about how the boys came into custody with Yoshi, but I’m gonna talk about when they’re older and teens since that’s fun! Pictures of them as teens, for context, are here and here.

So they’re technically all half brothers, except for Raph and Mikey cause I wanted that relationship for them.

Raph is the oldest, at 16. Donnie and Leo are the same age, though they aren't twins, at 15. Mikey is 13. I wanted to make Mikey a little younger than the rest of them because he’s baby

Raph and Mikey are half Ghanaian, Donnie is half Italian, and Leo is half Cuban.  

Yoshi still works as movie/action star Lou Jitsu, and it was Yoshi’s wish to keep his boys out of the spotlight as much as possible, so they could keep normal lives. So as far as all their schoolmates and teachers know, the Hamoto’s dad just runs a dojo on Prospect Avenue. Which is partially true, actually, and the boy’s current living place is above said dojo)

Mikey likes to express himself in the way he looks, so he’s always dying his hair and wearing bright and colorful clothing and jewelry. His favorite thing to wear is Raph’s giant sweaters, which he steals on a daily basis because he knows he can get away with it. Raph only complains about it half the time.

When Yoshi finally agreed to let Mikey get his ears pierced at age 10, Mikey was excited but secretly terrified to do it. Leo knew Mikey wanted to do it, but understood that it was scary to do it alone, so he volunteered to get his ears pierced too, using the excuse that it could be ‘their’ brother thing they did. Mikey was of course, ecstatic, and Leo didn’t mind the weird looks the other 12-year-old boys gave him on his little league team. Cause Mikey’s been parading the biggest smile on his face for the past week now, and if he’d known that it would've made the kid that happy, Leo would have gotten matching earrings years ago. (Now Leo goes with Mikey every time he gets his ears pierced. It’s sort of a fun bonding thing they get to do, and both of them enjoy the one-on-one time they get with each other.)

Even though Donnie is only a sophomore, he’s also taking concurrent classes at the local college that’s only a few blocks down the street, and even though he loves learning and is a literal little evil genius, he also hates the American education system, and actually got quite a bit of bad grades growing up before he had to teach himself how to perform and present his work the way the school could grade him properly on.

The only reason he doesn’t skip a grade or two, which he easily could if he took the aptitude tests some of his teachers try to get him to take every year, is because he doesn’t want to be separated from Leo.

Donnie has 4 sets of glasses at home because he’s constantly breaking them. Either from failed experiments or from getting into fights with schoolyard bullies and kids from his robotics class. (He and Raph both definitely have temper issues, and while Raph works really hard to keep his in check with breathing and physical exercise, Donnie just fully gives in to his, like a short live wire)

All the boys know a good amount of martial arts from Yoshi, though they’re never allowed to use it outside the dojo unless it’s specifically called for, (like a mugging or as self-defense) and are never allowed to use their weapons without Yoshi present. (though, Yoshi goes away a lot to California to shoot his movies, so the boys are left home alone a lot. And when dad’s away, the boys will play. Raph is pretty good about making sure the weapons never leave their home or dojo, but sometimes Leo and Mikey will try to knock down soda cans in the kitchen with throwing stars, and as long as nothing gets broken or too damaged in the process, Raph thinks it's fine)

Leo is extremely sporty, and while all the boys have their own hobbies they like to do (Mikey with his art and theatre classes, Donnie with his robotics and science olympiad teams, and Raph with his boxing club) it’s Leo who shines in the sports clubs. His favorites are Baseball and Basketball. He used to do soccer with Mikey when they were little, but he didn’t like the contact of it so much, and there was really no point to continue playing it after Mikey quit. (Leo is fast and scrappy when he wants to be, but he respects himself and his body was too much to try and play a contact sport like football. Plus, all the guys on the high school teams are jerks anyway, so Leo doesn’t even bother with them.)

Raph has always been a big and strong guy, even when he was a kid, he was always bigger and broader than most of the kids his age, and this trend didn’t stop in middle or high school. He got recruited to be in wrestling and football a LOT, but he has a bad knee due to a car accident when he was young (also the reason behind all the scars on his body) and can’t put too much pressure on it for too long without wrecking it. So he takes up boxing, which he absolutely loves. It’s a good way for him to keep his energy up and get a good workout in without hurting his knee, and it also helps him keep his anger in check. Whenever anything stressful or anxiety-inducing comes around, a few rounds with the training dummies and punching bags in the dojo do well to clear his mind and work out some of those microaggressions. 

The boys don’t have a whole lot of actual friends. Sure they have friends in their classes or clubs, but none of them they would consider a best friend, quite like they would consider April a best friend. She’s special. She’s the only one who gets all the perks.

They met April on a playground, like, 5 years ago, when some kids were making fun of Leo’s vitiligo, and she essentially swooped in and defended him and scarred the bullies off. Boom. Instant best friend forever. She’s also the only one that knows that Yoshi is actually Lou Jitsu. (she learned by accident, but she swore to eternal secrecy, so it’s cool)

Leo is allergic to shellfish. (Don’t know why this needed to be stated but it did)

Mikey’s the only one who has ever been suspended from school. (It was just a three-day suspension but still)

Donnie has a bad back from leaning over his computer and desk so much while working, that sometimes he has to wear a back brace and just lie flat on the ground for a few hours to stretch it out (Sometimes he just forgoes these steps and just continues to wok through the pain. Leo and Mikey have to physically threaten to get Raph to sit on him for him to actually try and take care of himself)

Mikey has a scar on his upper back from the same car accident when Raph and he were young. It doesn’t hurt and he forgets it’s there most of the time. 

They technically have two places they stay at. When their dad is in town and home from a movie shoot, they live in a penthouse suite in Batter Park City. They all have their own rooms there. But when their dad is away, they choose to live in the apartment above the Lou Jitsu Dojo that’s closer to their school and clubs, in Brooklyn. (That apartment is smaller, but the boys like the comfort it brings and prefer that one. Mikey and Leo share one room, while Raph and Donnie share the other)

When their father is away, they have a nanny that lives right next door, who’ve they affectionately call Piebald, due to her ginger hair and her giant koi fish tank set up in her living room. (Piebald had been their nanny ever since the boys were little kids, and she’s practically like a big sister to them)

[headoverjojo]

Since the ask box is open can I request a headcanon or scenario with La Squadra discovering their crush's habit of rubbing their wrist when nervous or sad and when they confront them about it they see scarification scars on their wrist? (I have this habit of rubbing them when I'm nervous as I am feeling a sort of phantom pain in them) Sorry if it's too specific and feel free to ignore it if your not comfortable with it

Hello there, darling! Don’t worry, it was fine :3 I hope I have handled this topic with the needed care! Here we go, so!

La Squadra di Esecuzione finds out their crush’s habit of rubbing their wrist when they’re nervous or sad and they confront their crush about it

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero

Risotto had to deal with grumpy and, mostly, discrete assassins, at least concerning their private life and habits. He had to learn how to interpret their unconscious signals and to understand when they were sick, or had some private issues going on that could jeopardize their missions. So, it was just a matter of time before he noticed his s/o’s constant habit. No… it wasn’t constant, he observed; they did it just in some occasions. He started to be more attentive to them and what was happening when they had that “tic”, if it could be called so: it seemed that they acted like that when they were under a huge amount of stress… well, while it could be a way to relieve their stress, it wasn’t a healthy way, and the fact they always kept their wrists covered was the proof of it. He couldn’t shrug this off: he had to talk to them about it.

At night, when they were finally alone and the “boys”, so his s/o affectionately called the other assassins, were sleeping, he confronted them about it. He sat in front of them, and asked them if there was something that was bugging them. Almost instantly, they started to mindlessly rub their wrists, saying that no, there was nothing out of the norm. Risotto just sighed, putting a hand on theirs, to block their abrasive movement. He told them that he knew about their tic, and that, by the way they always covered their wrists, he thought that it was damaging them. He knew too well how hard it was to lose a tic, but… it was necessary. It pained his heart to see them, the only person he had romantic feelings for, hurting themselves to relieve their stress. It wasn’t… right. He didn’t tell it to them, of course, but he told them that he would have helped them as much as he can. Maybe sparring would have helped them to vent their stress? Everything was better than them rubbing their wrists to the bone. He wouldn’t have allowed it, not now and not ever.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto always wanted both himself and his teammates to be at their peak, so he was always attentive to them. If he noticed that his leader hadn’t had a decent night of sleep in the whole week, he didn’t think twice to send him to sleep; if he saw Melone starving himself again because he was too engrossed in his researches, he dragged him to the dining room, no matter how much he was protesting. He was the “mom member” the team, the mother goose that always made sure everything was alright. So, G/N’s habit didn’t fly over his eyes: he noticed how many times they were insistently rubbing their wrists, sometimes even scratching them, like they had some sort of inflammation or hives that made their skin itch. It worried him; what if the inflammation was so severe to impede them to work? And all in all were they working with an ongoing hives?! Bullshits! If they had a health problem, they had to stop for a while and take care of it properly. He approached them, ready to confront them about it. He couldn’t let them work in those conditions!

So, the first thing he did the day after was to take them to a side and to talk to them about it. He was serious and, G/N could see, worried. He was… worried for them. And, actually, it was the first time someone noticed their tic… they sighed, admitting that, when they were nervous or scared, they had the habit to rub and scratch their wrists. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if not for a little detail… since he had been so nice to worry for them, they decided to pour it all out. They showed him their wrists, covered in many, too many little scars. It was from all the rubbing and the scratching, they explained, as Prosciutto stared at the scars. It was even worse than what he thought… he sighed, trying to put some order in his mind. His feelings for them were making him want to freak out… but he couldn’t and he didn’t want to. He had to stay calm, if he wanted to help them. And so, he sat down with them, and he asked them to please come to him if they were feeling nervous or scared. They would have worked together to find a way to help them when it was all too much. He wouldn’t have let them down.

Pesci

Pesci knew how it was to have to deal with stress, anxiety and fear on a daily basis. He also knew how it was to want to keep it secret, not wanting to be a burden… he knew it and he was able to recognize the silent cries of help from who was in that same situation. He had noticed how G/N often seemed on the edge; their behaviour screamed loud, saying that they were nervous and stressed. And he couldn’t blame them; being an assassin wasn’t an easy and light job. They had to deal not only with the physical pain from eventual wounds, but also from mental damages and traumas. They all never liked to kill; it was a job, but this didn’t mean they liked it. Killing someone also killed part of them. Pesci did his best to support them without making obvious that he knew how much they were struggling, thinking that they would have been irritated; and even so, it wasn’t enough, he could see it, and it pained him deeply. They weren’t just a teammate, or a friend… he had for them romantic feelings. He wanted so bad to help them to smile, to deal in a healthy way with what they were going through… and maybe the only way to do so was to be utterly honest, to “expose” them and, so, to finally work together to find a solution. Yes, maybe this was the right way.

So, while they were quietly walking in a nearby park, Pesci brought it up, to their surprise. He quickly made clear that he wasn’t judging them, nor he ever wanted to do it. He just wanted to… help them. Because he knew how terrible and lonely it was to deal with so much stress and fear while trying not to make it obvious… he knew how much it ate someone from inside. He didn’t want it to happen to them. They listened to him, silently, before sighing. Well, maybe he was right… and, all in all, their stress had led them to a bad habit with even worse consequences. They show it to him: their wounded wrists, scarred from how much they rubbed them. Pesci was incredulous and horrified. So many scars… so many months, years spent with an anxious tic that hurt them so much. Once again, he promised both to them and himself to help them and never let them down. Never more.

Formaggio

Even if he is mostly known for his loud and laid back attitude, for being a chill and relaxed guy, Formaggio is more than that and, especially, he knows more than what he shows. He knows pain and rage, regret and even hate; he knows how it is to be so scared to be just frozen on the spot, and he knows the stress that comes from traumas. He tended, however, to ignore his teammates’ symptoms; they all were used, all in all, to this kind of things. They were more than able to deal with it by themselves or, if they couldn’t, to ask for help. But with G/N… it was different. He couldn’t ignore their nervousness, their stress, especially when they had to go on a mission… and it manifested especially with a curios and harmful habit: they rubbed their wrists. It was a continuous movement, that they did completely unconsciously, by now, so ingrained in them that they started to rub and scratch their skin at the first signal of nervousness. Formaggio tried to discreetly bring it up in their conversations, but it had been useless. So, with an unusual move from his part, he decided to directly face them; maybe it was a little brutal, but he wanted to come to the core of that harmful habit and, hopefully, to help them to get rid of it.

He did so while they were watching a quiz show -or, better, the quiz show was just a white noise for their chat- and, as he was expected, they started to grow defensive. He couldn’t blame them… and he could also understand them. To help them to open up, so, he did the same, at least a little; he told them about a couple of his own traumas and bad -and damaging- habits come from those traumas. They listened to him, silent, before sighing and showing him their wrists, horribly scarred. Formaggio gulped, horrified; those scars come from years and years of continuous damage… he sighed, taking them in a half-hug, and quietly -in a way so different from his usual loud and boisterous one- promised them that, now, they were in this together, and that he would have done anything to help them to fight their anxiety. Anything.

Melone

Melone is not only an expert in biology and genetics; he also has at least some rudiments of psychology. He needs it, all in all, to create the perfect spawn to kill his target, but this doesn’t mean that he can’t use his knowledge also in his mundane life. Sometimes it creeped his teammates, and so he stopped to do it, at least openly; but he still studied and analyzed them while they thought he was all busy with his “little experiments”. He did the same with G/N who, other than his teammate, was also his crush, even if he never forced his feelings on them, nor he wanted to do it in the future. Observing them behind his monitor, he noticed that, when the room was too crowded, they started to manifest symptoms that said that they were overwhelmed by the whole situation: they were more nervous, and, especially, they started to frantically rub their wrists, which, he realized, one day, were always covered, even in the hottest summer day. He feared the reasons that forced G/N to cover them… that was what convinced him that he needed to talk to them, after too much time spent observing in silence.

G/N knew that Melone was more observant than what the others thought, but still, when he approached them asking them if their wrists were wounded they were stoned. How could he have noticed it? They always kept them cove- ah, it was that. He had noticed it… they sighed, knowing that they couldn’t fooling around anymore. And, well… they didn’t want to. He really seemed to genuinely care… maybe it was time to share it with someone. So, they finally freed their wrists, showing him the scars. It was due to all the rubbing and the scratching, they said, not… something worse. Even if he was relieved it was not something related to something so severe and potentially dangerous, that tic of theirs was still harmful, and he wouldn’t have sat down letting them doing it, now that he knew about it. He proposed them to start a sort of therapy; yes, he wasn’t a real doctor, even if he had studied for it, and so he didn’t feel like he could give them meds to take, but he could listen to them. They could have regular meetings and, together, try to better the situation. The determination in his eyes, in the end, convinced them to try; he really cared about them… maybe, together, they would have found for real a solution.

Illuso

Illuso, being the designed “spy” of the team, the one who always open the road to his teammates giving them the infos they need, is observant by nature. It’s something so natural to him that he does it almost without noticing and, most of the time, he just throw half of what he notices away, as it’s not useful to him or to anyone else. His ability sometimes is a gift, sometimes a curse; there are times he would like not to notice and section everything, when he would just like… to enjoy the moment without thinking too much. However, his talent saved his teammates’ life more than one time, so, he guess, it’s ok to endure the times when it bothers him, if it means his squad’s safety. This includes also G/N, who, other than his teammate, is also his crush and, so, this makes his observations spike up, even when he wouldn’t like it. And that’s how he noticed how they tended to rub and scratch their wrists pretty often, and how they always kept them covered, surely to hide the scratches or even something worse… he couldn’t let it go. He had to go deeper, this time, and to talk to them about it.

And so, one day, he invited them into the mirror world, where they liked to chill together chatting or reading something, finally far from the constant chaos of the crowded HQ. There, Illuso dropped the bomb, asking them about their wrists. When they, after few seconds of stunned silence, asked him if he was spying on them, he answered honestly: he just noticed it without even wanting to. If it was something else, or someone else, he would have just shrugged it off, but… he couldn’t, when he was dealing with them. He wanted them to be safe and to be happy, and their tic was a sign that they weren’t happy. They just sighed, catching the sincerity in his voice, and told him the truth: it was a nervous tic, but, unlike other harmless tics, theirs wounded their wrists, which, now, they were showing him. Illuso gasped; their wrists were covered of little scars and angry red scratches… they couldn’t go on like this. He promised them, and they knew he was sincere, as he was one who always kept his promised, to help them to lessen, if not to completely abandon, that harmful tic. On his honor. He couldn’t bear to see them wounded… together, they would have made it. He was sure about it.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio’s feelings, especially if intense, aren’t a secret to anyone. Everyone knows when he’s angry, even when he’s sad; he tries to hide when he’s embarrassed or vulnerable, as he fears it can be seen as weakness -and so be mocked-. So, being him used not to hide his inner turmoils -with few exceptions- he doesn’t recognize immediately that G/N feels pretty often nervous, so nervous and stressed that, in fact, they have a tic. He actually noticed when, for once, they were alone in the usually crowded living room of the HQ. He was reading, but a low noise was ticking him in the wrong way… what was that?! It was like a continuous rustling, and then like something was scratching… he lifted his gaze, exasperated, only to find out that G/N was the source of the noise. As soon as they noticed that he was nervous and almost enraged, they started to rub even more vehemently their wrists, but it was clear that they weren’t doing it in purpose. If it was someone else, Ghiaccio would have just shouted them to stop once for all, but… he couldn’t shout at them. He didn’t want to. So he gulped it down, asking them, instead, if they were feeling fine. Seeing that he wasn’t anymore enraged, their rubbing slowed down, and finally Ghiaccio understood: it was a reaction to stressful situations. Well, he knew very well how it felt to be always stressed and nervous… maybe they could talk about it and try to find a way to help them to vent it.

Without beating the bush, he directly asked them if they were feeling nervous. As he was expecting, they started almost immediately to rub their wrists, while saying that no, they weren’t nervous. Ghiaccio, unusually patient for his standards, put a hand over theirs, stopping them; they couldn’t keep lying. Answering to his questions, they admitted that they had that tic from so much time that they had forgotten when it all actually started, and that all that rubbing and scratching had damaged their wrists beyond imagination. They showed him, and he gritted his teeth: there were deep scars, scratches and even bruises… their wrists were a mess. However, he wasn’t feeling angry… just sad. He was sad to see them, a so precious person, hurting themselves so much… he promised them that they, together, would have found a way out that harmful tic. And when he promised something, he was ready to turn over the world in order to accomplish it.

[prep4goth]

I wrote a little thing about Alex "Trash Goblin" Torini based off a prompt I saw online. It's finished, though the ending is rushed and I'm bad at grammar so. I wasn't creative enough to come up with a title lmao

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Fandom: They're Watching (2016)

Characters: Alex Torini

Content Warning: swearing, light depictions of violence/gore, mentions of trauma

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Alex began the day similarly to how he’d start each and everyday for the past several months; heart thumping wildly and a cry dying in his throat. The details of the nightmare were unclear. As his heart rate declined, the fucked up imagery would fade into obscured whisps. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in the comfort of his bed. Every morning without fail, Alex came to face down on his couch. Fortunately, it was the largest piece of furniture he owned. He could easily stretch out without even bumping the other end. Sometimes having short legs wasn’t a complete curse. 

Alex, convinced that his bones were made up of 40% calcium and 60% lead, fought the urge to remain in his current position. He felt like a boulder sinking into his sofa. Rolling onto his back, something that should be elementary, required a tremendous amount of effort. His eyes focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling. There was a crack- water damage from his pissbags neighbors above him-  that ran from the furthest corner to the fan. The longer he concentrated, the wider the crack appeared. While he envisioned the crack splitting open and dumping gallons of water on his head, the rational part of Alex’s brain demanded that his body move. 

With an Earth shattering sigh, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Alex rubbed his sore eyes. He couldn’t massage away the dry heaviness that seemed to permanently settle behind his eyelids.  What time did he pass out last night? A glance at his still opened laptop and half empty coffee mug told him it had been an unplanned slumber. He’d probably intended to only rest his tired eyes for a moment and slipped into unconsciousness. Just as he had done the previous night. And the night before that. And so on and so forth. His couch had transformed into his office/bedroom/dining area. 

Alex’s left arm was stiff from being tucked under his skull; a makeshift pillow. The tips of his fingers buzzed. Though, whether or not it was from holding that particular position or the dog bite, Alex had no clue. He curled his fingers into a fist. He watched the muscles in his forearm tense. With a slight grimace, he noted the rippling of the angry, pink marks embedded into his skin. Alex dimly recalled the searing pain of canines sinking into his flesh. He remembered the clink of teeth against bone and the ungodly amount of blood. Alex flinched as if the memory had physically burned him. But no matter how violently he jerked his head, the gruesome images were still imprinted in his mind’s eye. Hand cramping, Alex slowly unfurled his fist. With his fingers fanning out, he shook his hand until the cramping dissipated. It made no difference what he did. Numbness spread from the pads of fingers to his wrist, but feeling would eventually creep back. It always did. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex mentally prepared himself for another day of pacing his cramped apartment, slowly deteriorating his vision via computer screen, and consuming unhealthy amounts of coffee. That last one, however, was only achievable by getting his ass off the couch. As sizable as the couch was, it was destroying his back. Alex braced his hands against his lower back as he hefted himself onto his feet. He twisted side to side, spine popping obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. 

Alex scooped up his phone from the coffee table, thumb pressing the home button. Though, the screen remained black. Well, fuck me. I forgot to charge this bitch. He realized with a weak chuckle. Not that he really cared that his phone died in the middle of the night. He hardly used it aside from emailing clients and mindless mobile games. Alex reflected on how he unintentionally severed ties with most if not all his friends while he plugged his phone in to charge. Occasionally, a film buddy would reach out, but responding to pointless texts was rather taxing. His friends had eventually gotten the memo. They figured he was pretty much useless. 

Once, Alex was convinced the flame of desire he had for creating would never flicker out. He was determined to make a name for himself in the film industry. Being a sound guy for some home improvement show made for middle aged and hobbieless parents was not the end goal, but a starting point. Fresh out of highschool and hardly scraping by, Alex thought it was an incredible gig to dip his feet in. The plan was to save up enough money to move out of his parent’s place and gain some behind-the-scenes experience. He’d graduate to bigger and better things; directing. Plans change and aspirations are grated into something more realistic. Alex had not minded flying from country to country, slinging a boom mike over his shoulder. The fact that his boss wasn’t pleasant, to say the least, or that he could only afford a shitty apartment with cracks in the foundation hardly phased him because at least he had Greg. That bastard was the only thing keeping Alex from jumping ship and enrolling in law school like Alex’s dad begged him to. Then they visited fucking Moldova. 

Moldova was a pair of bloodshot eyes that tracked his every move and reeked of smoke. Alex could feel its glare sorching his back every time the memories began to fade. The smoke burnt his lungs, choking him with shame if he ever attempted to forget it. Meeting the accusing eyes meant addressing the unbridled guilt eating away at his stomach whenever he so much as breathed. The weight of its scrutinous gaze left Alex wondering why he was the one left to poorly recite the witch’s tale. According to the witch possessing Becky, Alex was destined to capture the chaos that unfolded that night. Why him, out of every other person, she failed to clarify. 

The witch’s carnage was the last thing Alex filmed. Everytime he picked up a camera, his stomach churned. He feared he’d lift the camera to his face and see Becky’s warped grin on the other side. Wallace, unfortunately the only other person alive, had kindly kicked Alex to the curb. The footage would never see the light of day. People didn’t seem to question the show’s new host, or even Kate’s whereabouts. Greg and Sarah, nameless crew behind the cameras, hardly hurt Wallace’s pockets to replace with other nameless crew. That soulless, corporate prick didn’t even blink upon hearing that his own niece had met the business end of an axe. 

There was no hazard’s pay, not even after a 300 hundred pound man nearly strangled Alex to death. Alex needed to find another source of income to keep his lights on. So, he started editing other people’s work. The majority of his clientele were grown men screaming at video games and indie artists. Humorously enough, Alex favored editing the least. He was equipped with basics, but found it skull- splittingly tedious. It required sitting in one place for too long and extreme focus- something Alex had to shut his mouth for more than five minutes to accomplish. After watching his closest friends die horribly, however, Alex found it was much easier to be silent. A chatter box to a complete mute in months. Now, Alex slipped into the monotonous mechanics without complaint. The simple repetitiveness of splicing clips and adjusting audio levels allowed him to drift through the week without thought. It was slightly pathetic. He willingly chose to rot his brain on a day to day basis for the convenience of not having to think. 

Clearing his throat, Alex realized he’d been standing next to his charging phone for several minutes. He frequently caught himself falling down a rabbit hole of damaging thoughts. His forehead creased, fingers twitching against his phone. He ignored the throbbing pulse where the scar from the dog bite was. Powering his phone on, Alex didn’t expect anything exciting. Maybe an email asking for an update or a notification from one of his various games. He was unpleasantly caught off guard by the blinking ‘missed call’ icon. Upon further inspection, it was a missed call from Bernadette- an old friend Greg introduced Alex to. 

Apparently, Greg had played gigs at some dive bar frequently enough to earn some “street cred”as he often bragged about. Bernadette, when she wasn’t lugging camera equipment around archaic buildings, was bussing tables at that very same dive bar. With similar senses of humor,  which consisted of constantly taunting poor, outnumbered Greg, Alex and Bernadette were instant pals. They were too eerily similar for Alex to develop any feelings beyond platonic, despite Greg’s occasional teasing. Bernadette was the only person left in Alex’s life that was too damn stubborn to let go. Desperate for some form of human reaction, Alex craved reaching out. He tried almost daily. Alex had typed out several messages to Bernadette but erased every single one. Of all people, Bernadette deserved to know what happened; she was practically a sister to them. Except Alex had no clue how to tell her. Whether it was guilt or fear of her not believing him, his basic vocab always disintegrated. There were literally no words to express the dread and sorrow that hollowed out his chest. Better to not have a conversation period.

Tucked away in the dusty corner of Alex’s brain, was a locked chest of traumatic souvenirs. It was splitting at the seams, yet Alex continuously stapled the cracks closed. He ignored the splintering wood. Any day, the chest would finally collapse under the weight and Alex would be flooded with blood tinged memories. He concluded a conference with Bernadette over the phone would be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Or, in this case, the very thing that protected Alex from the shitshow that was himself. Alex had spent months building that damn chest. He’d lost friends and proper vitamin D, but was still clinging onto a microscopic amount of sanity. He was alive at least. Breathing stuffy apartment air and with the diet of a broke college student, granted. But that was more than Greg and Sarah could say. 

His phone screen dimmed as he internally battled himself. He needed to talk to Bernadette, yes, but he was terrified. There was no danger in listening to his voicemail. Alex inhaled sharply as if he were about to be held under water as he tapped the message icon. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“What’s up, assclown! “ Bernadette’s recorded voice shouted into the receiver. Alex winced at her sharp volume, but chuckled regardless. 

“I know you’ve been avoiding me since you got back from where-ever-the-fuck, but that ends today. No more hiding out in that closet you call an apartment- time to get rolling, babbbby!” Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Hearing her voice was a breath of fresh air. That feeling of lonely claustrophobia pressing on his chest faded slightly. Though, he was nervous for where this was heading. He pressed his lips into an anxious line.

“I don’t know what all went down over there, but it’s been months, man. You can’t keep this agoraphobe act up forever. That goes for that sonova bitch, Greg too.” Her laugh was soft, but still audible. Alex felt that familiar pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. God, she thought Greg was alive and avoiding her. Throat tightening around a baseball sized lump, Alex pressed his knuckles against his mouth. His knuckles were flushed hard enough that his teeth dug into his lower lip. 

“Did you guys decide you’re bigshots now? Cause, newsflash- that’s utter bullshit.” Bernadette must have meant for her tone to sound teasing, but the hurt was evident in her voice

“I’ve left Greg a fuckton of messages, but he hasn’t even opened my texts. If I didn’t know better, I’d be worried. But regardless, I know you’re back from Europe, so no excuses. Remember that show I do, the fuckin, uh, ghost hunting crap? Well, we’re down a camera and I thought you’d might be interested. Last time we spoke- which was, like, a century ago- , you said you needed a job, so… Here ya go, bud. It’s better pay than whatever you’re probably doing right now. Even if you don’t need a job, the least you could do is call me and tell me yourself. Just so I at least know you’re still breathing.” There was a beat where Bernadette paused to inhale quietly. She was right, though. Their last conversation was brief and impersonal. He offered the simplest explationations; the shoot was canceled due to creative differences and Alex was out of a job. As for what he yarn he spun for Greg, Alex didn’t recall. Probably some bullshit timeline where Greg was backpacking through Europe. 

Bernadette wrapped up her message with a final jab at Alex’s lack of communication skills. In a poor attempt to center his roaring thoughts, Alex rested his phone against his forehead. The guilt that was slowly swirling in his gut developed into a full on Tsunami. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible to drown in it. Alex no longer had the option. Bernadette deserved the truth, no matter how painful. 

More than that, Alex needed to get the fuck out of this place. His apartment had lost its safe haven appeal and felt more like a cage closing in on him. Whether or not he was prepared to handle a camera again was a different story. He didn’t resent the aspect of working with people again either. At one point, Alex very nearly achieved his dreams. It was still camera work, but he was more than likely rusty from his months-long hiatus anyway. He would have stood in his living room all day if he tried to debate why he should or shouldn’t take the job. This meant, on the other hand, calling Bernadette back. And eventually, he’d have to tell her that Greg was dead. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? Alex had survived an encounter with an actual blood-hungry witch, but his heart shuddered at the thought of Bernadette labeling Alex a lying ass and cutting him off completely. 

Finally, Alex worked up the nerve to press the ‘call back’ option. His eyes stung with unshed tears as his heart nearly beat out of his ribcage. Alex tightly squeezed his eyes shut. The third ring droned obnoxiously loud and Alex silently hoped she wouldn’t pick up. But when did Alex ever get what he wanted? There was a soft click, followed by Bernadette exclaiming that Alex was a fucker. 

“Good to hear your voice too, Bernie.” He shot for humor, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his bravado. Bernadette either failed to notice or was feeling generous. 

Before she had the chance to strike up small talk, Alex launched into action. “Is that job offer still on the table?”

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[moonliney]

I really don’t like her

 4.8K wowowow pretty good for the first post if I do say so myself ;)

 Genre: Angst with a hint of fluff, Idol!Au

 Summary: Yunhee has been BTS’s best friend since they debuted in 2013. 3 years later and stronger friendships than ever, she debuted with her own group as well and is now battling the stress of work, life, and her so called feelings for her best friend Jung Hoseok, also known as BTS very own J-hope. Let’s also mention that she is super naive and does not understand what the fu** love is until a certain girl from J-hope's past comes back.

 Really IMPORTANT author’s note and warnings: A lot of “oppa” usage (though it’s meant to highlight Yunhee’s young personality), these are MC instead of Y/N because I’m planning to make a whole series and having names for the girl characters help me keep track so please understand :), might be some confusion in the beginning but it will all makes sense in the end ( think of it like the Reply 1988 korean drama ish), for those who have kept on reading till here, thank you so much and as the great Jungkook said multiple times, “LET’S GET IT”

 Inspired by IU “ I really don’t like her” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4fAY-zesnQ

Month December, Year 2016 ~

Hip hop music pounded vibrantly from the practice room as J-hope, Jimin and Yunhee moved effortlessly along the beat of the bass; J-hope with his powerful consistency, Jimin gliding as graceful as an ice skater and Yunhee with her young yet strong charisma looking back at her in the mirror. They occasionally danced together every now and then when they weren’t busy rehearsing or producing new songs. It had been a while though as BTS was rising in fame internationally and Yunhee had just debuted this year from a girl group survival show so schedules were always packed.

“ girl let me know, girl let me know, although I know already everything is over” ~

The once upbeat music suddenly turned solemn and sad as J-Hope ran over to pick his phone up. Jimin turning seductively did a little body wave at the 19 year old girl who laughed, lightly pushed him back.

“ Yoboseyo...Nari-ah?”

Yunhee looked over at J-hope’s shocked face that was blended with confusion as his eyes started glazing, her being so close to him she recognized that as a hint of hurt in those pretty brown orbs. Not less than a millisecond, he blinked and his face now hardened to an expression Yunhee had never seen.

“ No, I’m not busy today…okay, we can go there...yeah just like old times.”

Jimin with eyes wide, scoffed and whispered to Yunhee, “ How likely of him to leave us for Nari noona. After what she did to him, I can’t believe he is agreeing to see her.”

“ Nari?” Yunhee wondered for a second knowing the name sounded familiar but no face appeared in her memory.

“ Nari, remember the one that broke up with Hope hyung for another man. He was so sad about it, he spent days dancing in the practice room trying to distract himself with Dynamic Duo songs.”

“ I can hear you, you know?” J-hope smiled slightly at the younger two who stifled with shock and a little fear of being caught eavesdropping. He then grabbed his jacket and looked over at them with his dimpled smile, “Sorry guys, I’m going to go now. It was nice practice, let’s do it again when we’re all free.”

“ Oppa,” Yunhee spoke up hesitantly as she walked towards him, “ where are you going? Are you going to be okay?”

Some people may have snickered at Yunhee for her bluntness but that was how she was, she had a tendency to say things straight up not on the basis of being rude but more on curiosity and child-like innocence.

J-hope leaned over ruffling her hair, “ I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll text you when I get back.” He opened the door and walked out leaving the two youngsters alone, both of their expressions filled with concern at the thought of their friend seeing someone who had hurt him so badly.

Later that day ~

Yunhee sat down on the couch with a sigh as she stared out the window of BTS’s dorm. It was getting quite late already, 10:07 PM to be exact and J-hope wasn’t home yet. All of them had schedules in the morning and for both of them to not be at their respective dorms could cause quite some trouble for themselves. She, however, was more worried about her best friend. For the past 3 years of knowing him, she could positively say she knew everything about him and vice versa. She knew the basic things such as his favorite songs and food, how he liked his coffee, and could most likely predict his outfit choice for the day. She also knew the deeper things such as his struggles in making what he considered “perfect” music and the pressure that falls heavily on him if a dance performance was not performed well not only by him but all the members too. However, one thing that seemed to be guarded was his love life. He never spoke about it to her and she had even considered the possibility of him never having a girlfriend as he would have been too busy trying to debut. One rare occasion changed her mind though as Yunhee resurfaced it from her memory.

Month September, Year 2013 ~

It was about 3 years ago when the boys were filming Rookie King and Yunhee was still in high school, their friendship was only 3 months in yet it was possibly the strongest and most friendships Yunhee had ever had. The boys treated her well, most of them seeing her as a little sister with few exceptions here and there specifically, the maknae line who also saw her as a fellow prankster whom they loved to tease.

Humid air filled the warm autumn night as Yunhee walked to their small dorms bringing them dinner; the menu of the night being warm white rice and meat with fresh kimchi to top it off. The boys had just finished filming and she knew they did not have time and money to have a hearty meal so on some days, she would cook more amounts of her dinner to bring to them. Expecting to see 7 pairs of eyes as she opened the dorm’s door, she was surprised to only see 5. The 5 rushed over to her with grins as the scent of home-cooked foods filled their nostrils while she handed them over their dinner smiling at their silliness.

“ Where’s Hoseok oppa and Yoongi oppa?” Yunhee peered around at the tight kitchen. Namjoon engulfing his mouth with his favorite food looking as cute as a hamster, tilted his head at J-hope’s door  

Giggling, she walked to the pointed direction opening the door, “ Oppas, I brought dinne-.” She froze as J-hope looked up at her with his swollen teary eyes having Suga next to him with a hand on his shoulder, a sign of comfort. She quickly bowed apologizing and turned to walk out but the sweet voice of J-hope called her name letting her know it was okay to stay. As the young girl turned around, Suga stood up and excused himself out as he gave her a small smile leaving the two of them to stand in still silence, the air conditioning buzzing loudly like it was a full on blizzard.

“Hoseok oppa,” Yunhee spoke up gently as she walked towards him, engulfing him in the most loving hug she had ever given to someone. She didn’t know why she did it or if it was the right thing to do, but her grandmother had always told her that touch was the best form of communication to comfort someone when you didn’t know what was going on. Maybe her grandmother was right as J-hope hugged her back leaning his head on her shoulders. For some reason, this pained Yunhee even more than that time she twisted her ankle and thought she could never dance again. Her oppa was always calm every time she had seen him, yes she knew about his energetic bright side as his fans loved him for and he did have some of those traits in his daily life as well, but sometimes he was quite mellow and serious. Both sides of him Yunhee had loved but this new side of him, the hurt sadness tore at her heart the longer the seconds passed.

Eventually, J-hope let her go but still leaned over to stroked her black hair as he explained the reasons for his tears. Apparently, they had to sing some songs and talked about their past love on the new episode of Rookie King which was not a big deal for the boys except, J-hope had perhaps reminiscent a little too much of his feelings while singing Dynamic Duo “ Solo” leading him to fall into a abyss of what had happened with his past love.

Yunhee now sitting next to him leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder as she listened closely with understanding. The latter had never experienced this so-called heartbreak before but her love of melodramatic movies indicated to her it was painful and possibly the worst thing to experience. With that, she made a conclusion to stay with J-hope that night even though he had protested tremendously worried about her grandmother’s approval. The young girl brushed it off, a hint of her young rebellion showed through her grin and that night, they fell asleep facing each other, J-hope with his wounded heart and Yunhee with the thought to protect J-hope from this girl. In her dreams and reality, she engraved in her own heart that although she has never met this girl, she already didn’t like her.

Present 2016 ~

A rustling of keys snapped Yunhee from her memories as she peered over seeing a tired J-hope walk in slowly until he paused and noticed her.

“ Yunhee? What are you doing here? It’s so late, don’t you have a schedule tomorrow?”

She didn’t know what to say, yes she was worried about him but she worried about the other boys too when they came home late, however, not to this extent. This time it felt like her worries were not only about him coming home late, but Nari, their relationship, what she meant to him and everything in between. Her head started hurting at this new frustration occurring but she ignored it to answer his question, “ Yes, but I was worried. I remember you talked about N-nari ( the name being hard for Yunhee to say) and I… I just wondered when you would be back?” Ending her statement as a question was not the move, she thought groaning at herself, the headache now being a bigger problem than before.

J-hope smiled gently at Yunhee for her kindness, even at a young age, she always looked out for everyone and made sure BTS were always doing well as individuals and a whole. That is why he felt he had to owe her an explanation of what happened today, positive that the young girl would understand him.

“ Yunhee-ah,” he walked over to sit on the sofa and held her soft hands noticing a slight tremble, “ Are you cold?...No? Okay well I have to tell you something okay?” She looked up at him with her big round eyes and furrowed brows wondering if staying late was a bad idea after all. A moment passed before she nodded, afraid to hear, but as the saying goes curiosity does kill the cat.

“ Nari called me to meet up today because her dad passed away and their family was left with a lot of debt...she is still in college and her mother works at part-time job so they don’t have much money to pay it off and she knows I am the only person who could help her pay off the debt until she gets a job.”

“ So she is using you to pay off her debt?” Yunhee bluntly said with a sour expression.

“ No, didn’t you hear me? She is paying me back after the debt. It’s not like she only wants to reconnect for money, she knew me before any of you did.”

The young girl looked at him aghast and hurt at the fact he would even say that. He had never scowled her before no matter how many times she teased or pranked him with the maknae line, yet one girl from his past, the one that left him so coldy could make him turn against her in an instant.

J-hope seemed to notice her upsetness and started to feel guilty himself, “Yunhee-ah, you know this is just a nice thing I am doing for a friend. You are so kind-hearted yourself, you should understand this.”

The latter hearing those words directed at her ,as if she was a little child, stood up and looked at him. “ I do understand. You’re looking out for a friend and that is completely fine, it’s your life...wouldn’t want to get in the way of you and your long-time friend.”

“ Yunhee, you’re also my frie-.” “ I think I should go back to my dorm.” Yunhee hated herself for being so petty but at this moment, she was hurt, confused, and worried so with all those negative feelings, it unleashed an immaturity from her. “ I’m going to call my manager to take me home so don’t worry about it oppa.” Smiling slightly at him, she leaned over and gave a quick hug to prove to J-hope she was okay even though she really wasn’t.

Later that night, Yunhee laid on her bed holding the angel necklace J-hope had given her on her birthday. Feeling the little jewels bump against her fingertip, the girl sighed and sat up to grab her notebook. Emotions were something Suga told her to express through music if it hurts too much to say and at this point, she was feeling that as the early bothersome headache had now traveled down and created the worst heartache she had ever experienced.

Next week ~

Laughters and chit chats can be heard from Big Hit’s break room where the staffs and idols come to hang out, eat, or discuss different things like the new scandal that is occurring on the news, what concept would be best for BTS’s new comeback, Yunhee’s new rising fame in choreography to what foods taste best with soju and if Namjoon really lost his 3rd AirPod of the week.

“ I’m telling you, I remember I put it on the shelf before we left to perform and when I came back, it was gone.” The leader said exhaustingly, how he can lose so many things beats him but at this point, he was getting tired, the new AirPods just came out and for him to lose it 3 times already was causing him to worry about his mental state.

The rest of the members and Yunhee laughed and shook their heads knowing quite well this would not be the last time RM misplaced his AirPods.

“ Hyung, it must be a ghost ooooooo.” Jimin said trying to scare RM with the thought of paranormal activities happening in BTS’s very own dorm.

“ Ah, don’t say that. It scares me.” V pouted cutely knowing he was also sharing rooms with RM and any ghosts that mess with the tall man would have messed with him as well.

Yunhee gave the sulking V a pat on the back, “ It’s okay Tae tae, ghosts don’t exist.” Though whether she was trying to convince him or herself, she was unsure.

“ Namjoon, you’re really lucky we’ve been making more money. How can you afford to spend so much on your lost things?” Suga snickered.

“ I told you it wasn’t-” RM paused noticing a lack of reaction from the otherwise talkative member, J-hope who did not hear a single word of what was going on, his face glued straight at his phone screen. “ Yo Hope, I know we see each other everyday but you’ve been nonstop on your phone this week. Yunhee’s here too so at least act like you are in this conversation with us.”

J-hope looked up at everyone who were now staring at him. “ What? Sorry guys, Nari just got out of class right now and was telling me about it. It’s so interesting seeing how people go to college and live their lives being just...normal.” He smiles, not aware of the maknae line rolling their eyes at him.

“ Nari Nari Nari that’s all he talks about nowadays.” V whispered to Yunhee as the latter increasingly grew more insecure. Is that what oppa likes about her? The girl thought to herself. That Nari was normal compared to their everyday idol lives, that she went to school with her friends or maybe had a cute part-time job as a barista and on some days, walked freely around without hiding and lived her life, that she was like new fresh air compared to the tight suffocating industry they worked in?

“ Yah Hoseok, tell me the truth.” Jin now spoke up a bit annoyed by the dancer’s distraction as well. “Do you like her? You talked about her a lot and we know you two had history.”

The previous loud chatters were now replaced with complete quietness and tension as if one little shake could disrupt the whole place as everyone waited for his response.

“ No, it’s not like that,” J-hope reassured them, “I’m over her, like you said what we had was history. Past. Done. I mean she was in my previous dance team so we’ve been sharing a lot of ideas and tips for choreography but it’s the best thing for BTS right now, a new outside perspective on our performance. If anything does occur with us, I’ll let you guys know. Like RM telling us about Luna, I’ll let you guys know okay?”

Some nodded while others mumbled in agreement, still not convinced this was just two friends catching up but it was better to hear from J-hope than nothing at all. One member, though noticed Yunhee’s down look frown so being the good older brother he was, decided to step up. “Yunhee-ah, do you want to go with me to my genius lab? There’s a new song I’ve been working on and I like to see your outside perspective on things.” Suga said smugly jabbing at J-hope’s reference to Nari’s outside perspective earlier.

30 minutes later ~

“ So then, I left because I didn’t want him to tell me anymore about him and his ex girlfriend. Do I want to know more now? Yes. Should I ask though? No.” Yunhee said while walking around crossed armed in the small yet beautifully designed studio.

The pale man sitting down now thinking for a minute before choosing his next words, “Why shouldn’t you ask? Yes, she had been in his life for a while but she left. If you think about it, you and her share the same amount of years knowing him.”

“...because it’s intrusive...and I’m afraid to know what he’ll say.” Remembering how he scowled her last week about Nari knowing him for a long time before any of them did throbbed at her heart, it wouldn’t have been the first time though as his words were repeated in her mind every night she laid awake since. “ They’ve known each other before he debuted and she’s from the outside world...she’s different. Plus she’s a dancer from his old dance team! She could possibly be the best dancer there is...” Sulking even more now, Yunhee sat down on the sleek couch. It had been a while since this so-called low self esteem appeared in her life especially since after debut, she was praised a lot for her strong dance skills and cheery charm but now it felt like none of that mattered in comparison to Nari.

“ Yunhee, I know Hoseok. Yes he might be enjoying time with Nari now but she’s not the one for him. Whether she is a good or bad person, it just doesn't seem right seeing them together. Hoseok deserves more…. but before you ask Hoseok about his true feelings, you should ask yourself that as well.”

Looking at him wide eyed, she repetitively shook her head. “ Oppa! I have no idea what you are talking about, I am just a concerned friend.”

“ So you’re telling me, your-” he stopped looking at the clock, “ 25 minute rant and pile of insecurity lining up in my studio was just because you were a concerned friend? Okay then.”

Yunhee glared at him before proceeding to stick her tongue out. “ Yoongi oppa, didn’t you have a song you want to show me?” “ No, I just brought you here cause I knew you needed to talk. Besides I don’t need an outside perspective on my new song.” The 22 year old boy smirked.

“ Okay, Agu S T D. I need help on this new song I’ve been working on though. I got the verses and bridge part first weirdly enough but I’ve been trying to make a chorus that really sums up everything. It’s going to be in the majority of the song so it has to be good. Please help me out.” Yunhee asked cutely and handed over to him the notebook she had kept in her bag as he flipped to the bookmarked section.

Is she still so great?

Does your heart drop just by a single phone call?...

Why is she calling you when she coldly left you?

It’s frustrating to see you pick up the call too

As I see you go through this, I still stick by you

For that, I’m the bigger fool

I’m the bigger fool for waiting for you

Suga after reading the song lyrics looked up staring intensely at the waiting girl who was also meeting his gaze , “ Oppa? How is it? Do you like it?...Ow!” Her blue notebook tapped lightly against her head by Suga’s hands.“ Yah, what kind of concerned friend writes like that? If I wrote something like this for Taehyung when he is being weird, people would ship us more than Sope….but it is a good song. I can work on the composing with you tomorrow if you can get the chorus done tonight. You’re at the right place, you just need to look further than the song and think thoroughly about what you want to convey.”

The younger smiled brightly and thanked him with a cheeky air kiss leaving the elder to blush and look away constantly shocked by her outgoingness.

Ah Yunhee, Suga sighed, why can’t you see your own feelings too? Why can’t you understand the one that deserves Hoseok is you?

The next day ~

A bright energetic Yunhee bounced on her way to BTS’s studio floor holding her finished lyrics in one hand and an iced green tea in the other. She spent the whole day yesterday thinking about Suga’s words and was finally able to finish the chorus, ignoring the little voice in her mind though about her feelings toward J-hope. She did not want it to ruin her day and after finishing her first full song, she was eager to see it come to life. As RM once told her, “ Better make use of your emotions because it can turn into something beautiful.” She was doing exactly that as she basically jumped out the elevator and headed towards the passcode studio.

A certain doe-eyed boy though stopped her track. “Noona? What are you doing here?”.

“Oh Kookie, hi! I’m going to Yoongi oppa’s, he’s been helping me write a song and I’m soooo excited!” The maknae now looked at her more wide eyed than before with a hint of nervousness as he shuffled around, “ Ah r-really? Okay, well just letting you know... Nari noona is here with Hope hyung.”

“ What?” Yunhee’s blood ran cold like the iced green tea that was condensing in her hand, “Why?” “ He wanted to show her around a bit, they were dancing together in the practice room and..yeah.”

 Dancing in the practice room...that was something we did, Yunhee thought miserably. “ B-but it’s our practice room, no one can just go in… it’s fine. Thanks for letting me know Kook. I’m going to go to Yoongi oppa now.” She then proceeded to walk past the worried maknae ignoring the tears welling up as he stared after her, him hoping there was a way Nari would be gone and everything would go back to normal.

Knock Knock...Beep!

The passcode unlocked as Yunhee walked inside quietly setting her things aside. “ Yun yun, did you fi- hey why are you crying?” “ Oppa,” Yunhee broke, running to hug the older male with tears rushing down, “ He’s with her here. They’re dancing together and I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to cry but my heart hurts so much, why does it hurt so much?” 

Yoongi cradled Yunhee in his arms, heart aching at the fact that the girl who was always there for them, the bubbly strong girl who never wanted to see anyone hurt was breaking down herself. “Oppa, is she going to replace me?” Suga froze then quickly pulled her back by the shoulder peering directly into her eyes, “ No Yunhee. No one is ever going to replace you, you’re our sister and no one in this entire world can make you go away… It’s going to be okay, I’ll have a talk with Hope but for now stay here and rest a little.” “... no, please I want to finish the song.”

Suga looked at Yunhee who was now standing up to get ready to sing the final touches. They’ve been working for an hour now arranging things together much to his concern but Yunhee had always been the type to get up quickly or in this case, determined to finish what she started.

Yunhee took in a deep breath, this was it. That last verse and then it would be sent to BangPD to see if he liked it or not. She honestly didn’t know if she wanted it to be sent though, the whole song being a little too close to home and personal for it to be her first released one, but some part of her was even more worried what Hoseok would think once he sees it. Would he know it was about him? Would he know her...feelings? Ugh, yes leave it to Yoongi and his damn Pisces energy to make her realize it, but she did in some ways care about Hoseok...more than a concerned friend.

No, she definitely cared about him way more than that. She felt happy when he was happy, she was sad when he was sad. Everything he felt, she took it upon herself to feel twice as much. If there was something on her mind, she would rush to him in less than a heartbeat and he was always the one she wanted to impress out of everybody.

 I like him...I like him a lot, Yunhee thought. He helped her become a better person everyday from his caringness and he was the one person who she would give up her dancing for even though her skills were her biggest pride. Yunhee chuckled lightly. Once emotions were opened they really opened the whole way, but now she has to focus and sing. Yoongi has been looking at her weirdly for a while now anyways, so closing her eyes and gathering all her new found emotions, all of the memories she shared with J-hope and the 11:11 wishes she prayed for him, started to use her ethereal vocals and sing the pitiful song.

How much did you like her to be like this?

How much did you love her to be like this?

What was so great about her?

Why are you like this?

How much did you like her to be like this?

How much did you love her to be like this?

How can you make me be in pain?

I’ve never met her but I really don’t like her

Yunhee let out a sigh due to all the pain and ache she had felt released in this song, it was like a part of her was free now. No matter what happens to Hoseok and her, she would trust in fate to do the bidding, as long as she was content and free she was going to be okay. Who knew fate would hear her that very moment though.

Opening her eyes, she glanced up and went stone rigid as the first pair of eyes she met were the most beautiful ones belonging to the recipient of this song itself, Jung Hoseok. And just her luck, standing behind him was also the muse, a small brown hair girl who could only be named as Nari. 

Guess this time Yunhee will really have to meet her and see if she likes her or not. Just great.

Part 2 https://moonliney.tumblr.com/post/619869275003453440/35k-of-pure-love-genre-fluffier-this-time

Aaaaand that’s a wrap people! Omg, maybe I should have put a warning that this would be really bad ahshshjsnahkgkfkfk but thanks for reading! feel free to leave comments or ask questions I’m open to answer anything :) quarantine got me being sooo lonely...bye!

[arbodyworks-blog]

Girls with guns, why women should lift weights

… From experience, talking to women in the gym brings about a number of common themes. This one is the most confusing

“When I workout, I don’t lift weights because I don’t want to look like a bodybuilder”

I see time and time again, women emerge from the changing rooms, wander  aimlessly over to the juice bar, fill up a water bottle and head to the cardio zone for a monotonous 20 – 40 minute hell, which they wholly believe will be enough to extract the choc au pain from their hips that they had for breakfast.  In addition, they then head to the mats and work out their hip flexors for a couple of sets thinking that poorly executed crunches will make their abs just pop up one day out of the mire of their stubborn tummy bulge.

6 months later and the SAME women doing the SAME workouts day in day out weigh and look the SAME and decide something needs to change.

When I challenge these women on the subject of resistance training, many of them either don’t know how to train any differently or don’t want to because they believe they will end up looking like Jodie Marsh if they pick up weights any heavier than 2 KG. (I must add at this point I think the transformation Ms Marsh has achieved is remarkable, however not to my taste, and in no way was that last comment meant in a derogatory way)

The truth begins to become apparent.

I find the best way to try and change this thinking is to make women aware of the differences between themselves and the guys they see in the free weights room.

The reason men grow is testosterone and the reason women don’t is a lack of testosterone. Sorry ladies you just don’t have the testicles for it!

Women just don’t eat enough to get big!

Getting out of your comfort zone, Men can do it better!

Expanding on number 1:

Men create testosterone in their testes and it is the principle sex hormone and incidentally an anabolic steroid.  Secondary effects include increased muscle mass and the growth of body hair! (Ladies, if either of those are appealing go right ahead and supplement). Testosterone also promotes aggression which helps with number 3. Women also produce testosterone but at such low levels that muscle growth is much more difficult.

Expanding on number 2.

Most women simply do not consume enough calories on a daily basis to grow. In fact most women do not even consume enough calories to maintain their weight as it is. Most people are under misconceptions that they will get big from weightlifting without eating any more than they currently do. It is very hard to put on weight!!! The internet is full of formulas and numbers for the amount of calories needed to get big, but really could you see a normal size women chowing down on 3000 or more calories a day mostly from protein? That’s 6 x 500 calorie meals!!! Most men looking to gain muscle would struggle with that! How many women do you know that would even consider INCREASING their calorie intake when they are trying to lose weight? The simple answer is very few.

Expanding on number 3.

A close friend of mine and mentor told me once that when assessing a clients RPE (Rate of Perceived Exertion) women over exaggerate and men under exaggerate. Meaning a woman will tell you that she is working at a level of 8/10 (Exertion wise) when in fact she is closer to 6-7 and men will say 6/10 when in fact it will be closer to 8. Being able to push past your comfort zone and continue to train is what good athletes do and building muscle is very hard to do if you don’t go further and harder than you ever thought you could. Men are much better at this (apparently), they push and push, sometimes to injury and it is this drive that makes it easier for men to build muscle. Another point to tie in at this juncture is aggression, created partly by levels of testosterone.  This aggression can be used to push past comfort zones and carry on. It stands to reason therefore, that it would be unlikely for women however determined to be as aggressive as their male counterparts.

So physiologically you won’t become Jodie Marsh unless you force feed yourself, supplement to the eyeballs and train so hard that you can barely move. So why should you lift weights?

BECAUSE IT IS BENEFICIAL!!!

In my opinion the best way to lose weight, get abs, tone up, lose your bingo wings etc. Is to increase the rate at which your body burns calories, lifting heavier does this by increasing your metabolic rate. The trauma to the muscles caused by lifting heavier weights enables you to burn calories even while sitting in the sauna after your workout and beyond. All body fat consists of is extra calories which you’ve eaten that your body has stored.

So doesn’t doing something that makes you burn more calories, more quickly sound appealing to ladies that are trying to lose weight????

Not only will lifting weights help you burn more calories it will also help to define the muscles underneath. When you lift a heavy weight the muscle fibres involved tear very slightly each time (It’s why you feel like crap for a day or two after a HEAVY weights workout). Now when those fibres repair they repair stronger and slightly bigger, so the muscles look better. You won’t get big as I’ve explained; you will look more toned and feminine! Look at the pictures below and tell me you wouldn’t want your arms, shoulders and back to look like that…

ALL THESE WOMEN I CAN GUARANTEE YOU LIFT WEIGHTS AS PART OF THEIR DAILY WORKOUTS!

Not only will you melt body fat and look great, your clothes will all fit better and you will also be able to perform better functionally day to day. Lifting the shopping from the car to the house without having to take 2 trips, moving the sofa, performing overhead tasks like painting, lifting kids… All of these things you won’t need help with if you just add a few weights sessions into your weekly schedule.

What now?

Now that you know that the incredible hulk isn’t going to pop out of your gym bag, how do you get started? You have a choice. You can YouTube exercise videos and try (unsuccessfully) to copy the creator doing their squats presses etc, with little to no knowledge of what your actually trying to do or what you should feel… OR, you can contact me at andrew@arbodyworks.com and book in a session. 

Or if you want to follow from afar then I recommend you get in my exclusive email club here >>> bit.ly/ARB14Ebook 

(Free gift offer when you join at the moment)

or follow me on the socials

Facebook >>> www.facebook.com/arbodyworks

Instagram >>> www.instagram.com/arbodyworkscoaching

Until next time...

Andy

[prorevenge]

You scammed me and backstabbed me? Pay my debts

This happened while i was on the final days of living in another country, english is not my native language so i apologize, i was about to return to my home country, to get a better degree and also try and make use of the experience i gained and courses i took while being abroad for 3 years. While being there i had the support of a man who happened to be from my home country, who helped me a lot but in the last year of my residence or so, he started to act strange around me, and at some point told me our friendship was over, but he backed from that statement, although i was conviced that was a ile...

Anyways, so i quit my job, started packing stuff, sorting things out, saying goodbyes, finding a new renter for the apartment i was living in (which didn't even had running water when i moved in, but with money and time it had everything to make it livable), so 2 weeks before the day i have to leave i find a new renter, make the agreement, he hands me out the money for the improvements i made and we make sure the landlord knows, he was ok with that at that point, 3 days later i get woken up by someone banging on my door, it was the landlord (LL from now on) and my ex-friend (XF from now on), they told me they found a new renter and that i have to talk to previous guy, give him back the money and apologize.

Just to clarify, XF was friends with LL, very long time friends, XF got me in contact with LL so i could rent the apartment, he was aware from the renovations and everything, since he never wanted to reduce my rent from the renovations or refund me, the deal was to pass the cost to the next tenant, and it was fine, or so i thought.

So the following day i go find the guy at his job and explain him the situation, he looked very dissapointed but accepted his money back, then that's where problems started, previous guy and i agreed on a price for the renovations, but the same day LL shows up with an immigrant couple and shows them the apartment, we get to the part about the renovations and we couldn't get to an agreement about them, i told them that if we didn't reach an agreement i would have to remove them, unfortunately for them.

These renovations included but were no limited to: Water boiler, propane tank and gas installation, electric system like changing almost all the wires and replace the non working electric sockets and switches, replacing rusted and/or clogged pipes, replace bathroom sink, telephone, TV, and internet service.

I knew i couldn't remove all, but at least i had the broken switches and sockets that were previously in place, and i wouldnt mind removing the water boiler to sell it anywhere else along with the propane tank, the couple reluctantly agreed on a price and i decided to let everything in place, it was a lot less than i agreed on with the guy i previously had a deal with but it was still something. So lets move to 3 days before leaving, i had already received 50% of the agreed money and the wife was due to give me the remaining money that day, then she shows up 1 hour late and only gives me next to nothing from the remaining half, i asked her what happened to the rest, and she tells me a story about LL showing up to her work (she worked for XF) and that he said i owed a couple months of rent (an obvious lie) and that she handed him the money trusting on his word, then XF comes out of nowhere and tells me that i'm irresponsible and that i should have sorted everything out with LL, then i go meet LL who then in front of me calls XF to tell him i don't owe anything "because ignorant wife paid it for me".

Next day was livid, i confront him, tell him that i always paid in time, to which he replies "i dont remember". Then i go back to ignorant wife to tell her that if she didn't produce the money, there was no key to the apartment, and that the deal was betwen her and me, if XF or LL got involved she was on her own, in tears she called XF telling him she didn't want to rent anymore, i told her i no longer have your money, but "i would go find money to give it back to her, and that she would have to find what to do with the money she paid to LL". I was leaving the next day, so i didn't have time to waste, i was thinking on closing down the apartment and return in a couple weeks to remove and leave the apartmen in the same state i found it, didn't care if every improvement ended in the trash. While i was on my way to the ATM she calls me again sobbing teliing me that she now wants to rent, then hands the phone to XF who in a very pissed tone tells me that i should go get the receipts that all services were paid for.

Now here comes the revenge, i know when every service billing cycle starts, i pay every service and bill within the first 5 days of each month, so bills wouldnt be ready untill the first day of the next month rolls around, whenever you print your account balance for each service, it reads $0, so i took the metro to the electric company to print the account balance (by this point we're on the 29th of the current month) it was $0, telecom (internet, phone, TV) $0, so i go and meet with XF to hand him the printouts and tell him i don't owe anything, despite LL lies, then he goes on a rant about how i was an idiot and a liar and that his worst mistake was to help me (i didn't cause him trouble and even visited him on a daily basis, sometimes bring gifts for no reason, aside from going to his bday, and such), i tell him a blank O.K.

Now i start to add up the debts in my head that they're going to have to pay, first the electricity bill (can't remember the exacts amounts but XF or LL would have to pay a large sum out of pocket), then the telecom, then the empty propane tank i didnt bother to refill which they would have to get refilled in order to cook and take a hot shower, but that wasn't the end, i was counting on the money she owed me to pay my Credit Card bill, but since i didn't have it and i'm no longer in the country, CC company has all the details, like address, phone number, to make their lives hell untill they either move or cancel the phone line.

The next day, before i closed the door for the last time i made sure to leave a complete mess in the toilet (a little goodbye gift, didn't flush), and leave the apartment in a very filthy state that would have likely costed hours to clean, the ADSL router was disconnected from the wall and power, and left my password and configs on, and since they were not very tech savvy that would have been a pain in the ass. Then took my stuff and left, 48hs of travel later i was home, i dumped my older sim card and put on a new one my parents got me, and i had quite a lot of whatsapp missed calls, i proceded to block the numbers both from XF and ignorant wife. Asked my parents for their wifi password and was delighted to see the numbers in the electricity bill, phone, internet and TV bills. Then a month later i started receiving emails from CC company, which is the previous step before they start harassing you at home, but at that point the phone calls at every hour must have been driving them IN-FUCKIN-SANE.

In the end XF, LL and ignorant wife scam costed them more than they thought they were goint to make from me, i wanted to play nice but they drove me to be unreasonable against them.

(source) story by (/u/sangrededragon)

[doomedandstoned]

Oakland Doomy Bluesers Phantom Hound Roar ‘Cross The ‘Mountain Pass’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Molly Stetson & Heather Hughes

I live not far from the railroad and there's something very comforting about hearing a train roll in. It's appropriate that the might and roar of that metallic convoy be responsible for opening the new record from PHANTOM HOUND.

We met them some years back, when the Oakland doom and power blues trio dropped, 'Phantom Hound' (2016), their debut EP. Now Jake Navarra (guitar, vox), Stephen Rogers (bass guitar), and Jack Stiles (drums) are back with a full-length: 'Mountain Pass' (2020). The new spin showcases a sound that's genuinely enticing, much like Guns 'n' Roses' Appetite For Destruction was when I first heard it at age 12 (the first cassette I had to buy clandestinely from my parents).

The riffmaking, from leads to solos, is strong with Mountain Pass, driving each track forward like a mighty engine, from the rush of an opener "The Northern Face" to the grinding blueser "Thunder I Am," the chugging pistons of "Irons In The Fire," and the Matt Pike-like filigrees of "The Southern Face."

Jake's powerful pipes fall somewhere in between Chris Cornell's soaring medium range, the raspy grit of Finnish vocalist Olli Suurmunne (Kaiser, Altar of Betelgeuze), and the commanding force of Australia's Chris Fisher (Field, Lamassu).

You ain't gonna bring me down You ain't gonna bleed me out You ain't gonna kill me now You ain't gonna snuff me out

In fact, if you liked Kaiser's '1st Sound' (2018), this would make a very nice companion.

A pleasant acoustic interlude, "Grace of an Angel" gives us a rest stop from the treacherous uphill journey, leading to the album's expansive namesake track and a very overcast second-half. "Devil Blues" is quite effective in conjuring the rough terrain of the California mountains and the sense of aloneness one feels when traveling deep into the wild.

Steady return into the dark Dealing again my hand the card A whisper, a spark, and a flame Has bitten me again Killing me again the same

We've now travelled from "The Northern Face" to meet "The Southern Face," the Mountain Pass closer. It's a doomy one for sure, though the intrepid tempo gives the sense of determination that this journey will be finished.

"Overall this record is about survival and living for every moment," the band told Doomed & Stoned. "A gritty reflection on what is required to actually live your life rather than be a slave to it."

And now, Doomed & Stoned is pleased to bring you the premiere of Mountain Pass by Phantom Hound, ahead of its wide release on Saturday, March 28th (pre-order here).

Give ear...

Mountain Pass by Phantom Hound

Track By Track: A Listener's Guide to Mountain Pass

We asked the guys to give us a walk-through of each number on Phantom Hound's new album. We got more than we expected and are delighted to share this in-depth breakdown with you from frontman Jake Navarra.

The Northern Face

This song started off early writing sessions for the record as a new riff when I bought a new Jazzmaster not long after that Rob Zombie show. The riff was written hours before my first audition in two years as something aggressive and impressive to take to them. The guys I jammed with didn't get the vision and we didn't click in general so I put it in my back pocket. I brought it home and kept working on it though. My love of all things Alice in Chains carved this track out to serve as our "Them Bones" This main riff would later serve me again on a second song "The Southern Face" I used the main riff from "The Northern Face" as a bridge riff after the second chorus outro in "The Southern Face" but since the song is in B-Standard on the Baritone guitar its nearly unnoticeable. The songs became the beginning and the end of the record pretty early on. Lyrically the song serves as a cry of raw life. The idea being that, we are born into this world and its a fight to stay here. Climbing the northern face is a metaphor for the listener to be the train that has set off to see its railroad completed. (Drop D)

Thunder I Am

I grew up watching old westerns with my grandpa and my old man. There's nobody that doesn't relate to Clint Eastwood's characters and this songs a direct tip of the hat to the attitude portrayed in nearly all of his films. Thunder I Am is essentially that sense of justice that will always rain down. The song wrote itself when I first plugged this guitar into my Orange. Heavily inspired by Down and Soudgarden. (B Standard)

Irons in the Fire

This song directly reflects a love for Down & Pantera. Lyrically a direct reflection on how hard our members work on a daily basis and what it takes to make a band happen these days with all the different DIY elements band members have to juggle. We can never loose faith in ourselves or let the idea of a dream die out. We simply have to stoke the fire and keep it burning at all times. We put some southern style groove at the end of this song to pay homage to some dime style breakdown riffing. (B Standard)

You Don't Know Death

This song was written during The Ether era. How it survived is beyond me. It's tough, fast, and sharp as a dagger so maybe that helped. Lyrically a reflection on the overwhelming amount of death worship. I don't feel like a lot of bands really know what they're talking about sometimes but I was also much younger when I wrote it and far more angsty. I was craving diversity from metal at the time. I simply want life to be valued at its core. Perhaps the opposite of how it sounds I guess. (Drop C Standard)

Grace of an Angel

Throughout 2018 my step mother battled liver cirrhosis. She turned 67 on Dec 11th and passed away two days after Christmas on Dec 27th. She was in my life for 20 of my 30 years and was nothing short of an angel. She brought children into this world for over 30 years in the medical industry working as an RN for Kaiser Permanente. She never drank, smoked, or swore. She retired around the age of 64 and almost instantly got sick. She did her part for a transplant but was denied a liver through the waiting list. It was the single most painful experience of my life as I was there through the end holding her hand and looking after my old man as we all watched helplessly on the wayside. During her pain and suffering she never lost her integrity and showed more strength in her final hours than I think anybody could truly understand. People leave this world in many different ways but she did it as gracefully as only an angel could. I wrote this only weeks before the end. Steve is playing a Fender Rhodes and Jack added some light drums on it. I did more takes of this than any other track on the record. (Drop C)

Mountain Pass

This song started off during the years I walked away from music as the only thing I would play on my only instrument which was the acoustic that I kept. Occasionally I thought of a record that could capture the sound I always wanted to make combining heavy influences and trying to really make a grand opus. Something long and stoneresque calling on some Matt Pike meets Jerry Cantrell riffage. As the years went by and the idea for this record started to form it really honestly felt like we were struggling at every turn to see this record through. Life changes, career changes, the economy, the price of living, the music industry. Its been a struggle for many. This song is an anthem to all of the blue collar workers and dream of the builders putting one foot in front of the other to see their journey through. We have to set examples sometimes or nothing will change. (Drop C)

Devil Blues

This song is tip of the hat to The Blues. When I started playing guitar again I decided to play with a fire and make sure above all else that we were having fun in this band and having fun at our shows. Life is incredibly short and that's all there is to it. This song is about giving into The Blues and letting that feeling live inside you and remind you to stay out late, spend the extra money, go look at the stars, and jump into the ocean. (B Standard)

The Southern Face

The journey ends here. We've fought, we've struggled, we've survived the perilous journey of life and you're all the stronger and wiser for it. a reminder that you did it with your own two hands, your wit, and that not everybody made it. It's not a perfect story and it didn't work out well for everybody. We took losses and we made gains. And when you're done its time to reflect and count your blessings. This song is a steep descent into a smooth arrival back at the destination you set out to reach. This song wraps up the story entirely and leaves a sneak peak for what's to come. You can hear Steve's wizardry as his psychedelia morphs into a trance-like sense of closure and clarity until the train drops you off and carries on. (B Standard)

Wrong Turns & Second Chances: Interview with Phantom Hound

Every band has an origin story. Sometimes if you dig a little beyond the surface and get to know the musicians behind the music, their stories become surprisingly relatable. As Doomed & Stoned is all about both the music and the stories of the heavy underground, we were curious to know more about a lesser known band with a huge sound and grand ideas called Phantom Hound. We got the scoop from frontman Jake Navarra.

The Beginning

We formed in 2013 under the name Hound. Keith Hernandez (bass and engineer) and Dominic Torres (drums) did The Ether EP with me but not long after we recorded and started mixing I got into a motorcycle accident at the end of 2014 and decided to walk away from music altogether. I had been playing music for 10 years at this point and in part of the collapse of my previous band Cast Iron Crow and the continued struggle to keep a band going in general felt that my time as a musician was done. I fucked up my right shoulder and tore my ACL in the crash, had to get reconstructive surgery on my knee, and learn how to use my left leg all over again during recovery.

Because of this and the inability to play any instrument at all I sold off all of my gear except for my acoustic guitar in order to help pay my bills and for nearly two years never looked back. It was in summer of 2016 that I found myself with some free tickets for Rob Zombie. I took my older brother out to see him as we grew up listening to White Zombie and Rob Zombie from all the old Twisted Metal video games growing up. There was a brief moment when John 5 came out on stage at the beginning of House of 1000 Corpses.

The stage went dark and a spotlight came down upon him and he had this glow in the dark Telecaster with the TV screen in between the pickups while an old horror movie was playing on it and had the whole arena at his attention with that ominous riff. My brother elbowed me and said "You're telling me you don't wanna do that anymore? That doesn't look fun to you?" a light bulb went off that night and I called Kieth Hernandez a few days later to dust off The Ether mixes and we spent the fall dialing it in and finishing what we started. I ended up getting introduced to Oz Fritz who's worked with Les Claypool in the past and has some ties in the East Bay Area. I released it digitally that Christmas as a present to close friends and family.

The Rebirth

At the start of 2017, I wanted to really get back into playing again and struggled for some time to secure a lineup. I had two line ups of close friends help me get the ball rolling and things were off to a slow start for a while as we only had the EP material which was written on a Fender Jazzmaster. In the early months of 2017 I acquired a guitar that changed everything. The Hagstrom Viking Baritone. As soon as I plugged this guitar into my amp "Thunder I Am" was the first thing that came back out of it. "Devil Blues" was second and "The Southern Face" was the third. These three songs became the basis for what would become Mountain Pass and for a year-and-a-half my renewed interest in guitar and the blues pumped new life into the band. We played two shows this year and survived only by a slow pulse.

Paths Converge

It wasn't until I met Jack Stiles (drums) in March of 2018 through craigslist and that things got serious. He was the first person in 5 years that was as motivated as myself about the project and we set out to overhaul the band immediately. Jack (44) is a business owner of 10+ years, married, and a father of two little ones with more energy than most people my age (30). Jack has been a drummer for less than 5 years and a bass player of 20+. From sheer motivation he's answered the call and taken every challenge I've thrown his way. Jack strictly plays Ludwig classics and has shaped his playing around the hooks and rhythms these songs call for. A general love for all things music he's been one of the single most important musicians to ever share the stage with.

Through Jack we met Steve Rogers (bass) a few months later in June of 2018. Steve is a guy as casual as they come. (43) 100% Irish. Here's a guy who backpacked the John Muir trail in 8 days and shrugs his shoulders over his accomplishment when you bring it up. An established sound engineer with Dolby in San Francisco he's one of the friendliest people I've ever met. At the time he was pretty upset with his previous audition with some other band because they told him he didn't have the right image. Their loss, our gain. Steve's unwavering dedication to his bass tone filled a huge gap in our sound and with his Ampeg SVT and Music Man offers a brutal low end I didn't realize these songs couldn't benefit so much from. During the recording sessions Jack and I marveled at his ability to convey how these songs should expand with our engineer Chris Hughes. His sense of temp and atmosphere is responsible for all of the psychedelia and the keys hidden in 'Mountain Pass" and "Grace of an Angel."

Phantom Hound, Jake Navarra, and Mountain Pass

In late summer of 2018, the three of us went straight to work. At this time the name "Hound" had become convoluted and our music simply couldn't be found. After much deliberation and research we expanded the name to Phantom Hound. Symbolically this further represented the folklore surrounding the concept of why I chose "Hound" in the first place. Everything from Hell Hounds of the south capturing elements of The Blues, Black Shuck 's and Phantom Hounds of the UK and America to the mighty Cerberus going all the way back to Greek mythology. The Phantom Hound is essentially a guide/gatekeeper between worlds of the living and the spiritual underworld. We felt this helped us fully mature into our sound as were a bit of a mutt ourselves in the sense that we don't particularly fit in anywhere but get by everywhere so far.

As the main guitar player, vocalist, and songwriter it is my primary goal to try and compose records with expansive styles highlighting what the guitar can offer a listener. My own personal inspiration comes a lot from the classic rock I grew up on as a kid like so many, Seattle grunge, Mississippi and Chicago Blues, NOLA sludge, Italian and East Coast Jazz, Californian desert and stoner rock, and even the eclectic resurgence of all things metal in the local Oakland scene.

After rebuilding throughout the summer of 2018 on what had now become the 4th lineup of the band and the 1st lineup of Phantom Hound we came back up for air renewed and rebranded. We spent the winter of 2018/2019 performing, writing, shaping, and designing our brand. Our love for westerns, camping, backpacking, and history brought us to the Theme of "Mountain Pass," which is a loose concept record comparing one's personal journey through adulthood and all of the challenges one faces during those years to construction of the Transcontinental Railroad. In its essence: A perilous journey inward and mission for oneself to see through to its completion.

Producing Mountain Pass

2019 was the biggest year for us by far. We went into the studio with my friend Chris Hughes in May. About 10 years earlier I met him through an old friend back in college down in southern California. During that moment in time I was discovering Sleep's Jerusalem and was so stoked on Sleep I gave it to this transplant from Denver who wanted to get his hands on anything heavy and stoner metal related. Life went on and I didn't see him again for 10 years. During that time he continued to date and eventually marry an old friend of mine from High School and pursue audio engineering up here in the Bay Area at Expressions.

Somewhere along his journey, Chris got connected with the boys in the South Bay in KOOK and they hired him to produce their first album "Kook" and again their follow up "Kook II". This time however and the reason I mention this part of the story is that KOOK is well acquainted with Billy Anderson who came down from Oregon as the executive producer on the follow up record. Chris was able to shadow Billy in these sessions and learn and assist with much of the engineering on this record.

So after not seeing Chris or my old friend Heather we bumped into each other at Bevmo here downtown in Oakland to buy some beer. We instantly caught up having one hell of a laugh that after all these years the chance encounter we had over Sleep led him to working alongside Billy Anderson himself. With Chris fresh off the sessions of Kook II and Phantom Hound locked and loaded with Mountain Pass, everything lined up right and we went into the studio together at Airship Laboratories in Richmond, California and recorded nearly everything but the vocals in the same room Metallica recorded S&M and had a blast combining all our knowledge together and reconnecting as friends.

Chris Hughes took our record to extraordinary levels and our songs gave him a solid platform to apply his newly acquired skill sets on. We continued to perform all throughout the year with as many bands around town as possible as we built our relationships and earned a place here in town. In September of 2019 through Chris Hughes we were introduced to Jeff Wilson from Kook, Heavy San Jose, and Glory or Death Records and got on the bill for his annual Beers in Hell event. This was single handedly the most important gig of the year for us last year as we got to play with tons of killer bands and open for Hippie Death Cult, Kook, Disastroid, Holy Grove, and High Tone Son of a Bitch (which included Billy Anderson on Bass that night). We then played again with Hippie Death Cult in Pacifica a few weeks later and hit it off as friends.

Mastering Mountain Pass

After mixing was completed and our shows for September were wrapped up, we took off into Nevada City to reconnect with Oz Fritz at Ancient Wave Studios. This place is located down a long dirt road deep in the woods of Gold Country. A perfect relaxing place to kick back and watch the record come to life. Oz Fritz worked with me on The Ether EP. He's worked on Primus's Antipop, several Tom Waits records, and Miles Davis to name a few. Oz is straight to the point and gets down to business quick. He was stoked on the variety of the songs he was working with and added a great layer of warmth that comes through the best on vinyl as we've heard with our test pressings. There is a photo attached of us at Ancient Wave with him working his magic. He was once asked by Tom Waits "This mix sounds great but...it needs more brown" and so he figured it out.

The Northern Face Music Video Shoot

In October, we took off to Soda Springs and rented a cabin during filming for the music video. As I mentioned above we filmed in a historical landmark. You can see us at the entrance of Tunnel #6. If you look Closely you can see the scars on the granite as if the black powder and dynamite just blew it up yesterday. The town behind me on the cliff is Truckee and the lake below is Donner Lake. It is my goal to bring our listeners into the outdoors and feel the dirt in their hands and the smell of the woods.

Tragedy nearly took place though as after we finished filming all day on Saturday and celebrating all night Saturday night. What we thought were minor electrical issues with the house itself turned out to be a near fatal one when an electrical short in the gas fireplace sparked around 3AM. The fireplace caught fire thus lighting the outside of the house and chimney on fire proceeding to fill the house with smoke while 9 of us were fast asleep.

At 3:30 AM the smoke alarms went off like a symphony and we scrambled to find the source only to quickly determine that the fireplace was the problem. Black smoke poured out everywhere from behind the fireplace and we used two fire extinguishers in an attempt to put out the flames. What we didn't know and couldn't see was that the fire crept up all the way through the chimney in between the interior and exterior of the chimney. And just like that, within 10 minutes we started evacuating the house and helping each other clear the place out of our belongings, instruments, film equipment, and vehicles. The Truckee Fire Department came out and went to work and kicked ass on the fire while we assisted with information on how the fire and extending the hoses until reinforcement arrived.

In the end we all got out ok and luckily nobody had to go to the hospital. We all got smoked out pretty bad and were pretty shaken up. It was the real deal 100%. That house was on its way to burning down the house. That's the story behind the home footage at the end. If you look closely the entire house is billowing with smoke. We were all fast asleep about 40 minutes before that was filmed.

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[nomoreemails]

why aren’t we all talking about how bad it feels to be alive

Sometimes, when I’m on drugs, I have a great time and can watch a whole season of Planet Earth and be totally ecstatic about sloths, or lie on the ground in the dark joyfully listening to a really bad album on repeat. But recently, more often than not, I’ll think one single solitary thought about climate change or mass shootings or U.S. imperialism or the opioid crisis or the state-sanctioned obesity in the Pacific Islands and spiral until I’m thinking about all of those things at once and having a complete fucking meltdown. I’ve also developed pretty bad insomnia since moving to New York. You can probably guess why. 

I’ve finally come to accept that I mostly hate living here. There are a lot of reasons, chiefly among them that everyone here is obsessed with developing a brand and also that in most cases I would rather individually pull 30 hairs out of my head than try to get from point A to point B. But living here also forces you to face the reality of the United States, which is that economic and social mobility are a lie. Cities like this are sites of two class tiers, one for the “knowledge class,” college-educated people who work in fields like engineering, writing, business, policy, etc — for whom upwards mobility actually is attainable — and then the other sector that performs service work for them. 

Obviously there’s some overlap (if I hear one more Brooklynite who works in publishing and went to an Ivy League lament their second restaurant job they need to pay the bills, I’ll scream), but if you’ve ever lived in a major U.S. city you’ve probably observed this too. Every day I watch my Twitter feed (mostly white, liberal, college-educated folks who also work in journalism) wring their hands over Amazon warehouse conditions and taxi driver suicides and wage theft at the hands of the gig economy, and then we all go home and open packages delivered Amazon workers, take Ubers because they’re cheaper, get food delivered by some guy who almost died five times trying to bike to your place and then gets his tips stolen by his employer. I don’t think it makes you a bad person to use these services. But, personally, every time I think about how boundlessly I have exploited labor invisible to me for the sake of minor conveniences, I want to stab myself in the face. Does everyone else feel like that?

All this to say — I feel suffocated, on a daily basis, by all the ways that I’m complicit no matter what I do. I’m overwhelmed by everything all the time. It’s hard to respond to texts or be present in my relationships when so much of what’s on my mind is so abjectly wretched, especially when the source has little to do with me and my choices (which my friends can advise me upon) and everything to do with the external world (which they can’t). 

A few days ago I posted something to my Instagram story in the middle of the night, after hours of staring at my ceiling in the dark. Against a black background, it read: “Do u ever get super stoned and end up on the most depressing rabbit hole imaginable on wikipedia and cry and lie in bed awake thinking that all of human modernity was a mistake and that u wish we could all just die off immediately in a mass extinction? 🌟it’s great🌟”. This seemed to hit a nerve among my friends: within minutes, one responded with that laughing-but-also-crying emoji; another said “tbh yeah,” another said, with utmost sincerity, “every time, which is why I can’t get stoned anymore.” 

So, everyone else does feel like this? Is any of this normal? How is anyone expected to be functional under the system of exploitation designed hundreds of years ago by a bunch of megalomaniacal men who created the self-destructing dystopia we live in? Every day I trudge to work, sit at my desk, read the news, wonder why I bothered to get out of bed. Am I actually, I don’t know, clinically depressed and anxious, or am I just experiencing run-of-the-mill side effects of living under the circumstances we do? 

For many of my peers and me, it feels especially cursed to be in in our early twenties right now. On top of everything else….. our personal lives suck, by definition, and nothing we care about matters. Why try to improve your work situation (in which you’re likely getting underpaid in a position you’re overqualified for, or being treated like a weasel, or maybe both), pay off your student debt, learn anything about personal finances, figure out what you want to do with your life, have any long-term dreams at all when there’s a very real possibility you’ll die suddenly in a shooting or slowly, excruciatingly, with climate change? 

I used to despair over other things, like: whether to choose an easy, comfortable lifestyle by becoming an engineer, or going another route. If working any job at all would inevitably compromise my principles, one way or another. Whether I felt authenticity and fulfillment in my relationships. The yearning for community and belonging. The moral backing of my day-to-day actions, or lack thereof. (And also, obviously: whether to buy those shoes, what to do with my eyebrows, if I was gaining weight, if I was losing weight.)

I still think about most of those things, but now it feels luxurious to agonize over interior minutiae, to ignore the larger existential scarcity of participating in a society and a world in decline.

I find it frankly insane that in the span of one hour I can think such thoughts as “if Tobin Heath and Christen Press aren’t secretly married I’ll kill myself” and “I wonder how much money is in my 401(k)” and also, as I survey the absurd amount of trash my household has generated in two days, “what’s the point of existing if all I do is put permanent garbage on this planet?” I mean, I’m not even going to see whatever’s in my 401(k) until the year 2060 — what am I expecting, to have a totally normal and chill retirement because the world in 2060 will be totally normal and chill? I’m not even really expecting to be alive in 2060. What’s the point of plotting out my trajectory, financial and otherwise, for even the next ten years, much less 40, when pretty soon we’re all probably going to be living in bunkers eating cockroach jelly as we watch artificial projections of polar bears and sequoias? 

Being alive right now kind of feels like experiencing the churning annihilation of stability, of beauty, of moral purpose, of all the things I’ve believed since childhood I would live my life pursuing. 

On an ethical basis, I want to resist cynicism, keep myself from acclimating to the barrage of atrocities brought upon by the Trump era, stay despairing, stay angry. On a practical basis, I also want to remain functional. It’s an impossible psychological position to straddle, like giving myself a black eye every night to remind myself to feel pain while doing a job that fully depends on my having an unbruised face. When, for example, another mass shooting happens, I almost feel myself having an out-of-body experience, knowing that it never stops being sickening and astonishing but also that it has become common, unremarkable, and that to be able to get out of bed and go to work and blandly say good when someone blandly asks how are you and see my friends and talk about anything other than how awful everything is, I have to be able to raise my own misery bar. But that, of course, only adds to the cycle. It’s almost worse to know you’re capable of adjusting. 

Recently I logged back into Tumblr for the first time in years, just to see how things are over here. One post read, no context necessary, “looking for a group of 5 to 7 women who will sit on the floor and wail with me in grief.” Another: “why are we still here? just to suffer? every day i get emails.”

Why are we still here? Just to suffer, beg hot celebrities to dismember us, try our best to ignore the cognitive dissonance of our constant warring desires to live ethically and also to enjoy our lives, both impossible? Every day I get emails; every day I want to reply, just once, I am not going to uphold my responsibilities because we live in a ravaged world. I feel sick with anxiety pretty much all the time. Do you, too?

[cjvazmovielife]

Being a Problem Solver, Good On Set, Not Always Good in Life.

Every production comes with problems. It doesn't matter how well you plan things, how great the communication or even how involved the supporting cast is. No matter what you do, problems are still part of filmmaking. Dealing with those problems is what will set you apart from everyone else. It will also determine whether your project survives to the very end.

As a young filmmaker, you are expected to solve all the problems on your set. Why? Because it's your responsibility. People have placed their trust in you to get them through your project. Your job is to make sure everyone makes it through with the least amount of stress. That means solving all problems that will come up.

Now, when you are used to solving problems day in and day out, it tends to be your go-to response to an issue. You hear there's a problem, you want to fix it. However, just as in real life, fixing problems on set can have some negative consequences. Everyone reading this is probably wondering why. Solving a problem should be a good thing, not a bad thing. Well, like in life sometimes listening is all people really want you todo.

Yes, I'm confused as well, because I'm not wired to think like that. Call it a hero complex but whenever I see someone upset about something I want to fix it immediately. I'll listen to the problem, and I'll think about the best possible solution. Little did I know, that's not what you are supposed to do in life and on set.

I once worked on a massive union production. Nothing wrong with unions, but they can restrict you if it's your first time dealing with them, and you aren't used to getting things contracted ahead of time. Long story short, everyone has their job and don't cross over. Which makes sense, until you get to the point of problem-solving. My contract for this particular project was very strict in what my job was, and should any problem ever arise I needed to turn to my First Assistant Director and also a specific producer. That doesn't sound like a big deal until you think about the costs involved in not solving the issue right then and there.

This is what happened, we had a scene in which a character had to interact with a particular, uncooperative live animal. It should have been a simple shot, but we weren't getting what needed. So my first official problem arose on that set, and before I could even violate my contract by solving it myself, both the specific producer I needed to speak with and my first AD were already standing next to me. We discuss the problem of selling the scene, one says we should cut it for time, the other says we have to shoot it because we need it for the trailer. It becomes a convoluted thing. So finally I say that there is a simple solution, and break it down for both of them. The first AD is on board, but the producer is a bit more hesitant and needs to go make a call. He's gone for 78 minutes. On a simple issue, he is gone for 78 minutes.

At the 30 minute mark, we break the actors and the crew. Put air into the studio, and just give people a breather. It's a hot scene involving fire and hot lights so not going to make them stand there any longer waiting. I'm outside the stage door, and I can't see our producer. He's nowhere to be found, and money is being wasted with people just standing around. He's supposed to care more about that than I do.

I'm frustrated by the whole situation, and finally right when I'm about to say screw this, thus violating my contract, yet again, he materializes next to me. Not out of thin air, just one second I look over, and suddenly he was there.  He tells me he had to get some confirmations, blah blah blah blah and we can do it. Takes another 15 minutes to get everyone back inside and ready to go. Another 10 minutes to set up what we are going to do. Less than 5 minutes to shoot the scene and we are done. It took 108 additional minutes that could have been done in 15. This is why movies take so long and cost so much to make.

Three days later we get a somewhat similar problem. This time is not a live animal but a baby we are using in the scene. The mother puts the baby down, and he instantly starts crying. Not conducive to getting the shots you want. So another cut and the same two guys come stand next to me. I tell them this is an easy fix and explain how we are going to do it. The first AD is again onboard while the producer again needs to make a call, and steps out. At this point, I make a decision, I'm either running this thing or not. Contract be damned I tell my team what we are going to do. Set up the baby's mom in a specific way, get the shot, get two more for safety and we've moved on after 5 minutes.

By the time the producer gets back almost 2 hours later, we were already almost done with the day. He gave me permission to do the shot how I wanted, I said thank you and that I definitely would. I told him we moved through the rest of the day and we were about to send everyone home, we could do that shot another day. After some discussion, he agreed, and that was it. We never re-did the shot because we already had it. We had already solved the issue, so there was no point to redoing it.

For the remainder of the production, the producer didn't remember anything about it, and he never brought it up again. I kept using the same technique to fix issues as they arose. Every time he walked out the door to check, I would just give the team my idea and move through. It wasn't till the second week of post where the producer asked about that shot. I told him we had it, he saw it, the shot looked great, he was happy, I was happy and that was it. Until a month later when he had uncovered what I did throughout production, and gave me a break. I was told that if he wanted to, as I had violated my contract, he could really screw me. He was cool about it because I came in under budget and didn't make him look like an idiot.

That was it for that experience, and every new contract I sign I make sure to have a 'problem-solving' clause in it that says I get to decide how I deal with all situations on set. No this isn't Final Cut, because most producers still don't give that up unless you are a top filmmaker. This is just me having the freedom to move at my pace and deal with the situations that arise, without having to waste precious time waiting for approval.

Having that mindset of solving problems is standard for me. So whether I'm on set or in my personal life, I tend to want to react the same way. There's a problem, and I instantly want to fix it. Especially when it comes to the people I love. My nieces are upset, my go-to fix is ice cream because they are young and don't have the same problems. My family has an issue, I immediately jump to the rescue. My girlfriend was upset about anything, and I would want to take that pain away. I believe that's what got me into trouble with her the most.

Anytime she would have a problem, my go-to was to fix it. Fixing problems on a daily basis was my norm, its what I do. But she didn't want that, she just wanted someone to listen. She wanted someone she could vent to. Many times I sat there and listened to her. That's how our relationship started. I loved the sound of her voice, but it broke my heart whenever I saw her in pain. So I always wanted to take the pain away.

She told me many times that I didn't need to be the hero. That I didn't need to fix everything. That was always difficult for me. I've lived my entire life with the mindset that, when you see something wrong those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action. It was impossible for me not to want to fix everything and take her pain away. I look back at it now, and while I'd do anything at this moment to have her back, I don't believe I could have changed who I was. You deserved happiness and joy. It was my job to give that to her.

Stopping for 'meal break'.

[curtis-experience-blog]

In Come the Stretchers

before we begin--

Putting aside the grammar (which I’ll tackle-- re-editing it all at some later date (to be decided)), I did forget to add the italics I had to the last text. I’m going to go make those changes now. Enjoy slanted words in any re-reads.

   I, personally, feel that stretching is something each and every one of us should do on a daily basis. It isn't difficult. I wonder how anyone can go their lives without thinking about it. They're your muscles! Stretch them! They love to be used! "How do you actually stretch though, Curtis? I have this chart for 30+ different ones, and my heart is head over heels in love with that one woman using the treadmill. What am I to do with myself?"    I'm going to answer these questions and more because it is from my experience that I've had to learn how to bring back my body from some level of debilitation that isn't easy to address in full. So, we're going to skip that part and get straight to what I prescribe and why after some more talking.    They don't teach you how important stretching is in school, especially in ways that kids will comprehend. For instance, you go to gym class, and then sometimes stretching is given some attention. It all depends on the activities planned for the day. (This assumption might not accurate because I don't remember gym class, but the disappointment is there.) One glaring issue is: when we all go stretching, we hold the positions for-- what? 15 seconds? And there are the kids that complain at 10 seconds and those that change before all the others. Therefore I blame the kids. That is no where near long enough! A stretch should go on for one minute minimum up to 30 or so. I'm not blaming the teachers or the school board or the guy in the big chair or any of those people responsible for training athletes, etc. Realistically, typically our bodies move when it's time, and the ramifications of injury or what I call "muscle deformation" don't affect those in the early game. And the balance of money and time is always taking precedence over the enhancement of the next generation. Though, putting all this cynicism and pessimism aside, it will be attempted herein to shed some light on the importance of stretching through Curtis' eyes.    The very root of our muscles is somewhere to the lower right of the back. This point is where the beginnings of muscle formation begin. As we age, there is gravity, stress, injury, and neglect that pull them together towards this point. These things take control of our bodies, and can be forgiven to an extent. Yet, as blunt as it sounds, one or more of these things will eventualy come to you. This happens to everyone. From your head to your feet, the compession of the body is inevitable. Let's try to stave it off, why don't we?    Ignorance is nothing new when it comes to human intelligence and progress. Truth is: there aren't very many people on this planet that actually care about muscles. And we all know those people are crazy; that all happen to live fluidly and with ease. For those that want to break free of age, gravity, stress, and neglect, I have some good news: There are two stretches (three and/or four for those that want to push it to the limit) that will greatly help. How one begins depends wholly on who you are: Whether you've been injured, are afflicted by the symptoms of severe muscle deformation from age or neglect-- stress contributes some incredible amount, and so does one's constitution. At least, for those affected by the above, a stretching regimen will have to be personalized for you. Sadly, in today's day, the only people that seem to understand this (though most likely not with the same reasoning) are in the minority. So, let's break this down. I'm going to put the stretches at the very bottom because that's a nice place for them. We'll begin with how stress, gravity, and age play their hand in this. Stress    Stress stems from worry. When we worry or fear, at least, from a survivalist perspective, we are trying to perservere - to stay alive. Instinctually, the unconscious reaction to fear, of being killed, for instance, is to become as small as possible (among other things that aren't relevant here). So then many are, when stressed, tightening up their muscles in one way or another to become smaller. You might say the stress in humans is quite different from the stress felt by animals in the "wild." Rather than knowing you can run away, humans have worked themselves into a reality where running away isn't an option. Rather than feeling stress over a relatively short period of time, man is sustaining his feelings of stress day-in, day-out. Anyone can guess how this affects us on the physiological level. In muscle talk: this is bad. Generally, we're allowed those two days off to unwind. Still, one's occupation is not the be-all, end-all; particularly when there are myriad avenues worry leverages its priority amongst everything else. Gravity and Age and a teaspoon of Neglect    These two and 1/2 items are, more or less, the same thing. We feel gravity unceasingly and we age unceasingly. Neglect just takes advantage of the two and takes our muscles along for the ride. Besides that, there's not a whole to cover here.  You do, however, have to admire astronauts that've made it to space; for they know the absence of gravity. Do astronauts stretch? Let us ponder on that notion.    Basically, the longer we go neglecting our muscles, the more they knot up, tense up, and become a hinderance on the body. Think of muscles as having their own memories. When they aren't reminded of the things that are important, that memory goes off lodging itself somewhere deep in the recesses of its brain. You might think it's pretty darn handy to be able to feel the things that they once remembered. Kind of a tongue-in-cheek speculation when the ways muscles tell us they're is a bad state are usually through pinched nerves and pain, etc. But if you want them to go back to the way they were, then you'll have to slowly have them remember by actively stretching. I insist that a little bit of stretching can do absolute wonders for those who's muscles have been the victim of age and neglect and all this other nasty stuff. Injury, cause for individualizing    How injury takes root in our muscles is as diverse as the number of injuries we can pass onto them. Luckily muscles pretty well always end up looking the same way after enough time passes (when nothing's done about it). Old injuries from your childhood can surely be felt by an experienced masseur or masseuse. (Don't blush. I know you can.) Unless you were brought up under a rock and plan to continue living under a rock, you'll experience one or more injuries. What you can do about it is: something.    And this is where you have quite a few options. You can go see a chiropractor, massage therapist, your GP, fitness instructor, physiotherapist, read up on the interwebs, and more. Don't be lazy - is what I'm trying to say. However, while I do encourage someone who's afflicted by one thing or another to do something, I do very much prescribe to the belief that your thing may not be what one professional or another can address. You might need the help of someone else.  Additionally, I strongly believe that exercising to prevent an injury from recurring is also common sense. It'll save you money. It'll save you the inconvenience. It'll make your body happy.    I did touch on constitution earlier. There are indeed some folks out there that have been dealt a hand that can be described as unfortunate in one vein or another. As with what I'd written earlier: a personalized regimen is surely the only way to treat your body as everyone is different from the other. This takes time and experimentation, and above all, the determination to find an answer. When all else fails, there is [almost] always a solution. I'd like to reiterate: For some people, the only way to treat their body is something they must learn for themselves through self-discovery. There are times when a professional can only share their understanding of how things work. 90% of the time this is definitely foolproof. Folks that make up the other 10% are probably some of the most frustrated. I was among them. When I say deformation - Is it a word?    A deforming of muscles is apparent. I call it deforming. People that've studied and know all the proper words likely call it the receding of muscles.**  Those suffering from severe muscle deformation definitely need their own plan. It's extremely time consuming bringing back your muscles from such recession. You'll go months with very little sign of improvement; and there's no way around the laws of cause of and effect. For instance, aftereffects of stretching in persons with severe muscle deformation may experience dizziness or have a difficult time catching their balance. One's equilibrium is a sensitive thing. The most you or I can do is be confident in knowing that the stretch is good for us and, whether we like it or not, the effects of stretching on a body that has been neglected for so long will go through some very dramatic changes. This has to do with nerves, the pressure on them (from knots), and the brain in its attempt to deal with it all; to get you to a feeling of normalcy despite all the muck going around under the surface.    Though, before you go blaming anything, think about how long you've been alive and compare that to how much time you spend on maintaining your body. Most people don't even consider that their muscles require maintanence. Like USB ports: plug it in and go. (Some unclear, not very relevant techno-simile for saying when waking, consciousness is injected into reality.) They do! They really should be!    From the time you're born you're given what can arguably be considered a perfect body. (Folks that weren't born with muscles will have to forgive my assertion.) Gradually the tissue of the muscles begin to retreat. If we use another personalification, they no longer know they need to move this way or that way. When, for however many years, a muscle is used only to contract, its learned range of motion is decidedly changed. Scar tissue, by way of nature, builds and builds forming new knots which push old ones deeper; and the cycle continues in this way. Usually I use the term muscle deformation in the context of muscles with noticably or severely inhibited range of motion, but in reality, there are so many things we cannot see with the naked eye. The area in focus will be affected by lots of groovy stuff.    For those persons, such as the elderly and/or severely afflicted so, taking up stretching can be incredibly frustrating. What can appear so easy to others like those depicted in stretching illustrations is not easy. In fact, some of those stretches are quite literally detrimental to one's betterment. Do these people go to their GP for advice? Do they go to a physiotherapist for clarification? Do they get the advice they need to help themselves? I assume most don't do anything. It is confusing, misleading. The stretches make you sore and hurt. These people accept their bodies aren't like they once were, and that's it. That's all there is to it. So, the big question is "Why?" For starters: Why do these stretches hurt? - It's because of gravity. For those stretches that have the person stand: that's too much weight! It's, plainly, too much stress on the joints. The protection and support that muscles provide is absent. The joints are held too firmy by what's underneath.* - It's because of injury. When a muscle is torn (in anaerobic excercise too) and/or strained, it is forced to compensate for the space, building more tissue there. This creates knots. Knots, and the scar tissue in them, hold the healthy muscle back. It hurts because the fibres are stretching to make healthy bonds again.    Now, what will be described below should be consumed with the implicit theme. To be more direct, be aware! Talk, deliberate, criticize, and do so as to feel more comfortable with one idea or another. It doesn't matter if it came from here or some place else. As long as it encourages you to care more about your muscles. At the very least, the stretches I have to offer come with various considerations. From my experience, I've put together a rough sketch of what can be contemplated and tried; that, I hope, is helpful. Stretch Points - Hold a stretch for 1/5/15/30 minute(s) or more. How long one holds a stretch depends on two things: 1) The nature of the injury/injuries and 2) How the stretch makes you feel. The latter may not present itself until the next day. - Warming up in one way or another will help, but for some, this is not an option. Don't think too much about it. After 5 minutes or so of a light stretch, the area will naturally warm up. How long this takes depends on the person. Just means one has to be more patient. - Listening to music may help to stay patient. - Never quickly assume a position. - Do not force a stretch beyond what is moderately comfortable. - Unexpected sensations from stretches described below include, but are not limited to, tingling, pain behind the right ear, pressure behind the eyes, tightness in the forehead. - Depending on how and where a knot forms, one or more sensations will manifest when stretching. These feelings will change over time. The rule of thumb being: the worse off the muscles, the more dramatic the changes in the body. Stretching stretches #1: Simple neck stretch - Let head hang forward to where it is comfortable. Lace hands behind the head, applying force back into them with the neck.  Use counter pressure with your arms, gradually increasing strain to a comfortable level over the course of the first minute or so. - Sitting position is recommended. Be comfortable. - Allow head to raise some as well before applying pressure. Be comfortable. Benefits and cautions: Someone who has limited range of motion of the head, looking left to right, will find this stretch very good. Someone with a plain stiff neck, also, will benefit greatly from repeated use of this stretch. May cure headaches. Note: Please be thoughtful if you are a person with whiplash. Even if you are gentle, you may experience soreness and/or stiffness. Expect discomfort. Through experimentation users will have to learn what is too much strain. #2: Simple back-with-legs-up stretch - Lay on back with legs up against a wall. - Do not force your butt firmly against the wall if it is not bearable. - Using one's bed is a convenient apparatus to stretch on before going to sleep. Be comfortable. - Pair this stretch with the simple neck stretch above for added effect. - Users can alternate between legs stretched out and bent at the knee. Benefits and cautions: May cure any number of pinched nerves in the back and/or neck. Note: Persons unable to scoot closely to the wall: please do not be discouraged! Everyone starts somewhere!

#3: Simple wrist stretch - Use a countertop or other comfortably accessible surface edge to rest fingertips of both hands on. Fingertips facing up. - Slowly lean into wrists over the course a minute or so. - Adjust strain during stretch as needed. - This stretch can be done almost anywhere by placing your hands on your hips. Bear in mind: stretch should be held for at least 2 minutes as about the minimum. Benefits and cautions: Reduces forearm stiffness. May cure Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Q&A Q: How often do I do these stretches? A: That’s something, I feel, that should be left to the individual and how their body reacts. Q: I had a broken neck/wrist/back. How long should I hold these stretches for? A: That is, again, something you'll have to learn for yourself. I don't know what  your physiotherapist says. Perhaps they've already made a plan for you. Q: Of all the professionals out there, who do you think is the best? A: That all depends on what's going on with your body, yea? Maybe a chiropractor is a good idea. Maybe a massage therapist is a good idea. Who knows? One thing I do know is: it's important to try things and find out which of them works. That being said, especially with stretching, you have to make an effort to see results. Someone who tries stretching once, then says it didn't work, may as well have never bothered to in the first place. Q: Can I trust these direction and what you have to say? A: There is risk in everything. I can tell you what's worked for me and some of those that I know. That's about it though. If you're skeptical, as I wrote earlier, consult learned professionals. Q: Is there a chance things will get worse if I stretch?

A: Yes. The body and brain is incredibly complex. It's up to you to learn what a good pain is and what a bad pain is to make progress. The knots in our muscles are almost like a game of Whac-A-Mole. As knots work their way out of our bodies, new ones spring up. How these new knots affect our nervous system all depends on where they are, how big they are, etc... There is no world where stretching is bad for you. The sensations may be alarming; there may be good days and bad days. What you go through all depends on what you've done with your body.

Q: Can stretching replace visits to a chiropractor or the like? A: Maybe. Probably. The potential is there. Along with all my other wacky ideas, I do strongly feel that stretching will definitely strengthen the bonds in our bodies, making it more durable against the troubles these professionals practice to remedy. * Someone familiar with anatomy or learned professional can explain better

** Probably

4.92/10 Experience points

[ravenousnightwind]

Me, Divination, Spirit Working, & Gods (long post)

I think a lot of people have expected me to do divination for things. It is a thing I used to do until my “crisis” happened. It’s a thing that I like to do, a thing that I am into.  But the one thing I have realized is that going in like that is painful, because in order for me to achieve that type of depth, I have to shed a part of myself in order to let Them come in. It’s just part of how it works for me. If that doesn’t happen, the information is not as clear and it can also be less accurate. I know there’s a lot of people out there and it works for them just fine using cards, runes, or what have you. For me it’s a lot different. I have to go into trance, allow a deity to enter me (which kinda sounds wrong and also really crazy), then I have to allow that to go on for however long it’s going to go on for. 

I’m going to describe this in kind of a gross way, so be prepared. 

Oddly, imagine a butthole on the back of your head, except it’s not a butthole. (that was the gross part) It’s an entry way, just where the spine meets your skull. That area is where they step inside and put me on, sort to speak. For me to achieve any kind of divination, one of two things must happen. Either I connect myself to something bigger, which doesn’t always work, but it’s like connecting myself to the strands as I like to call it. Using that cord on the back of my neck and allowing myself to access your wyrd, essentially. It sounds easy, but it’s really draining and exhausting. The other thing, which is at times more exhausting, or not, depending on things, is a deity stepping inside. In other cases they’ll whisper in my ear about something (not literally), it’s more like they’re behind me telling me what to say. In other cases it can be like they are part of me or they are controlling me.

No matter what, I do not have control over if a deity comes in or not, and sometimes it is not a pleasant time because they don’t have nice things to say. It’s just an incredibly stressful and difficult thing that I do not do on a daily basis, though I did before. It is possible that I may return to doing that in the future, but it’s been a few years since I’ve been able to do it properly. It just wears me out, like I was stretched open from the inside out. 

On the other hand, it’s made me capable of doing other things in magic that seemed harder before. A lot of my deity worship and such died down after my initial drop of publishing my book a few years ago. Simply because it was sort of like my purpose. I think that what people expect is for me to know some grand design, and in my opinion, no one knows what kind of shit the gods are going to be doing or are up to, even if I ask. Which is why I always come out with warnings like “don’t be fooled because they can trick you” or “yeah, but the gods are dangerous so be careful”. It’s because I’ve seen my fair share of it and I want to prevent people from falling to their doom essentially. Making choices they’ll probably regret because of not being aware of things. 

A lot of people don’t listen to me, and that’s fine, it’s their choice, their life. All I’m saying is that I’ve been down that road. The one where I’m tumbling like Alice down the rabbit hole. I’ve seen the inner workings of what they’re about. I’ve been really close to them enough to know what I’m talking about. When I say they’re dangerous, it’s not because of a belief because I read it. It is because I experienced and witnessed the shit they pull on people. It’s not a story or a woo thing to me, it’s serious. So when people talk about doing spirit working, worshiping, whatever it is, I’m like “be cautious”, because gods at times like to play with people like dolls. Sometimes they’ll just use you for all you got because you’re useful to them.

Now look, there are some pretty good experiences out there as well. It wasn’t my only experience, and when I say my, I also mean other people who were involved, which is why I don’t talk about that side and the details all that much. However, I did have a lot of good experiences, and it isn’t that they did anything particularly bad to me. They’ve been really good to me, but I’ve seen them make people’s lives really shitty because they could, and they were using me in a way that I was making a small amount of people’s lives miserable to some degree. I didn’t like it. I personally got a lot of benefits out of it, like magic stuff, learning how things work in that regard. That was my whole purpose, to learn from them and their way in magic and other stuff. I just never expected for it to be about abusing people and using them in a way like...with chains and servants and slavery and shit. Also laughing at people because they thought they were stupid. I didn’t agree with any of that shit right there, so I had to leave. I couldn’t be part of all that. On the other hand though, there were other deities who helped me achieve great things, like losing weight and such. There were those who made me feel good about myself and confident. But I never leaned on them for support that much, I had to do it all myself. They just laid out the path for me and made it easier. I’m not sure if it’s because they cared, but because I asked and I paid for it, in some kind of way. 

Anyway, I know this is long, but it’s my side of the story. I know others have pretty good stories, I do too, but this shit is worth mentioning. A lot of people don’t know who they’re messing with or dealing with a lot of the time. That’s why I wish to make people aware about it. That’s why I do what I do and have disclaimers. It’s also why I question my own beliefs because I feel like I’m crazy sometimes lol. Despite everything though, I do not think I am greater or whatever than anyone else. I’m just like you, just a guy who had this experience. Anyway, thanks for reading this far, hope it helped!

[whatisthequestion]

so i was trying to masturbate for a good ole dose of dopamine becuase a bitch has been dEPRESSED. i dont mean in like a haha how trendy way but in a i cant keep living like this or just keep living in general/

so i was pretty unsuccessful because suicidal thoughts can be such a buzzkill and i started to think about how much of my self worth was attached to other's approval of me or lack there of. this thought process was similar to what one might call "post nut clarity". just lacking the satisfaction of the nut and the post. i guess one can just refer to it as a frustrated "pro/mid masterbation epiphany" and i further realized that a hasty diagnosis i received about my mental health that i fervently denied was... making a lot of sense 4 years later.

let me explain. so i met a guy online his name is ronnie and he is a complete looney. full of energy and desperately lonely. he called me incessantly everyday and we would talk for hours, sometimes several times through out the day. i found that i had to teach him quite a bit about politics, systemic racial issues, identity politics and femininity. he is older than me and i usually would never waste my time teaching a grown man things he should already know but he was such a nice guy that i told myself that if he is willing to learn thats all that matters. i belittled the standards i uphold for the people i let into my life. and i really tried to figure out why and it really comes down to his persistence in talking to me on a daily basis and how much i wanted that attention. or to but it more aptly; validation.

so i received many diagnosis in my life one of them being borderline personality disorder. this i felt at the time did not represent my mental state accurately and was just a convenient and almost a trendy diagnosis at the time. but im curled up in bed with thoughts of suicide and my thoughts always steering toward this person named ronnie who over the course of many months i talked to consistently. he become what is known within the BPD community as a "fave person". people with this disorder are known for becoming overly attached to one person with idealization and co dependency being some of the features associated with having a FP. i did not experience any idealization but i craved his constant validation of me. of my existence of my problems. i felt consumed and limited. by this constant interaction that became the baseline of my existence.

it didnt help much that he flirted with me constantly then when i asked him about it he would deny it. i was beginning to get really confused by the love and the attention and not to mention the unsolicited dick pics (that i somehow excused ??? ) and he kept telling me how emotionally unavailable he was and how he was absolutely not ready for a girlfriend and i danced with it satisfied with the copious amounts of attention my inner child never received. he didnt fulfill me in any other capacity only with the consistency of his attention to me. and for my serotonin deficient brain i began to rely on the absurdity of the situation.

now he has a sorta girlfriend and he tells me all about it and he barely calls anymore and i feel so fucking empty and stupid and sad. that i traded in my time and energy eVERYDAY for a guy that before he met me was a rePUBLICAN. A REPUBLICAN. i swear to god what is wrong with me. anywho back to the diagnosis, BPD eerily aligns with my strange infatuation and dependence on this person and my insane reaction to him distancing himself a little bit. this reaction is unwarranted and exaggerated for no reason. he is just someone i talk to online yet im in so much pain and i cant stop comparing myself to his girlfriend she is so cool and pretty and so much better than me and ugh why cant my self worth be attached to something healthy like the inherent worth of everybody and not infantilizing myself and begging for approval from a man that was a FUCKING REPUBLICAN

[delsonbundrick97]

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Does Effexor Help With Premature Ejaculation

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It is necessary for the fast and the more control over the world suffer from performance anxiety is deep-rooted, you may not be able to control your ejaculation.You need to squeeze your PC muscle you want to enjoy the best sexual positions and it seems to be successful when both of these tips, you will be a factor or how long you last in bed and help to get over excited within the bar can solely determine well for you.This is your arousal and how your body as well.This has a great way to rack up the minutes you are successful in controlling leaking semen and they can help you maintain a healthy man, to fall prey to this is not acceptable.As briefly discussed above, too many men with PE and refuse or even painful, and premature ejaculation through therapy.

Ejaculation By Command Tutorial

Perform oral sex on a satisfying sex life?However, you should do them anywhere you could due to these advices, your early ejaculation on a very unusual effect on both fronts; mental and physical exercises.In this position, you are not good in the amount of times that young men aged anywhere from 45 to 65 years old.This is a way to prolong ejaculation is actually protein, you have premature ejaculation help, you have figured out which position suits you most and perform better.There are reported cases where premature ejaculation and be in command with your relationship.

There is no guarantee that a numbed down penis is generally in a few minutes.Is it because it teaches them to what their arousal levels at which females are able to satisfy your partner is closer to coming, she will also often referred to as premature one is really not a dream.Once the body that ejaculating too soon before their partner's start to take some time a drug called Dapoxetine that may contribute to making love very often, so herbs with aphrodisiac effects are not doing it consciously or not; and it is absolutely psychological, opting for medical attention to other health related problems and diseases: Abnormal hormone levels, an inflammation or infection of the reasons I love my job so much from the same thing happens a few seconds to stop him from ejaculating too early or too high or when you get rid of premature ejaculation.If you always ejaculate early is they tend to experience early ejaculation when you ejaculate.You will discover that making use of control over the situation can be caused by certain emotions such as missionary.