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solaflaire · 8 months

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Starham: Q and A (First 50 Questions)

Link for questions: 500 Good Questions to Ask - Find the perfect question (conversationstartersworld.com)

What weird food combinations do you really enjoy? • I am quite fussy with the food I eat. However, I would not say no to banana and toast.

What social stigma does society need to get over? • Honestly, every stigma.

What food have you never eaten but would really like to try? • Pufferfish

What’s something you really resent paying for? • My laptop I bought for university. It gave more problems, and it ever did good. I could have just used the library computers and had the same results.

What would a world populated by clones of you be like? • Uh, that is a good question. I think quiet.

Do you think that aliens exist? • No. However, I would like to be proven wrong.

What are you currently worried about? • Not much. Although I am a student. Maybe my studies.

Where are some unusual places you’ve been? • My closet. 🤣

Where do you get your news? • Primarily from the news channel.

What are some red flags to watch out for in daily life? • Lying

What movie can you watch over and over without ever getting tired of? • It would be The Hunger Games (2012), directed by Gary Ross (Gary Ross - Contact Info, Agent, Manager | IMDbPro) and starring Jennifer Lawrence. The movie was based off the book The Hunger Games written by Suzanne Collins (according to Distractify, Suzanne does not have any social media accounts to her name).

When you are old, what do you think children will ask you to tell stories about? • How did I meet their grandmother.

If you could switch two movie characters, what switch would lead to the most inappropriate movies? I would switch Julie Baker (Madeline Carroll) with Dana (Stefanie Scott) in the movie, “Flipped”. The movie was based on the book with the same name written by Wendelin Van Draanen. (https://www.youtube.com/@WendelinVanD/about)

What inanimate object would be the most annoying if it played loud upbeat music while being used? • My couch

When did something start out badly for you but in the end, it was great? • Please don’t hate me for the this but it must be the Twilight Saga written by Stephenie Meyer (Stephenie Meyer)

How would your country change if everyone, regardless of age, could vote? • Roads. The roads in my country are terrible.

What animal would be cutest if scaled down to the size of a cat? • A polar bear or a grizzly bear. Either one would be adorable.

If your job gave you a surprise three day paid break to rest and recuperate, what would you do with those three days? • Figure out a way to extend the break.

What’s wrong but sounds right? • Reading too many books is not an addiction.

What’s the most epic way you’ve seen someone quit or be fired? • By coming in late to the office and then his supervisor found out he been promoted to be his lead. The man was so shocked he was speechless. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

If you couldn’t be convicted of any one type of crime, what criminal charge would you like to be immune to? • Honestly, no crime. I would still feel the guilt. So, I am okay.

What’s something that will always be in fashion, no matter how much time passes? • Trench coat and all black. You can never go wrong with those two.

What actors or actresses play the same character in every movie or show they do? • The Rock [Dwayne Johnson (@TheRock) / X (twitter.com)]

In the past people were buried with the items they would need in the afterlife, what would you want buried with you so you could use it in the afterlife? • My Nintendo 3ds or the purity ring my mother bought for me on my birthday.

What’s the best / worst practical joke that you’ve played on someone or that was played on you? • My supervisor informs me that my work has resulted in our department losing customers.

Who do you go out of your way to be nice to? • My mom. There is no downside.

Where do you get most of the decorations for your home? • From the mall. It is a five-minute walk.

What food is delicious but a pain to eat? • Chicken wraps. Why is there so much sauce in that? Like why?

Who was your craziest / most interesting teacher? • My seventh-grade math teacher. He used to stand on his desk to explain concepts.

What “old person” things do you do? • I take my time walking.

What was the last photo you took? • My profile picture needed for all my applications for university.

What is the most amazing slow-motion video you’ve seen? • How bones break from Mortal Kombat.

Which celebrity do you think is the most down to earth? • Jennifer Lawrence. If I had to guess.

What would be the worst thing to hear as you are going under anesthesia before heart surgery? • I am adopted.

What’s the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? • Chillis

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve broken? • My tablet.

What obstacles would be included in the World’s most amazing obstacle course? • The obstacle course from the show, “Wipeout”.

What makes you roll your eyes every time you hear it? • You can do anything if you put your mind to it.

What do you think you are much better at than you are? • My imagination. I honestly didn’t know my imagination is so much more active than my peers. Don’t know if that is a good thing or not.

Should kidneys be able to be bought and sold? • Yes, only if consent is given from the donor.

What’s the most creative use of emojis you’ve ever seen? • The “I am melting” emoji from WhatsApp was a brilliant feature.

When was the last time you got to tell someone “I told you so.”? • Most of my closest friends and family listens to me but something does happen where I use those words, I will provide an update to this.

What riddles do you know? • I know them but think they’re cringe. The riddles from The Hobbit. Yeah, I know.

What’s your cure for hiccups? • Water and silence.

What invention doesn’t get a lot of love, but has greatly improved the world? • Pegs

What’s the most interesting building you’ve ever seen or been in? • Roche Tower based in Switzerland.

What mythical creature do you wish actually existed? • The monster from the movie, “The Water Horse” directed by Jay Russel (Jay Russell - IMDb).

What are your most important rules when going on a date? • Don’t have high expectations.

How do you judge a person? • By their work.

If someone narrated your life, who would you want to be the narrator? • David Attenborough (A Life On Our Planet (@davidattenborough) • Instagram photos and videos)

#q and a #q and a time #questions and answers

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pornaddictioncounseling · 1 year

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YOU ARE A GOOD MAN

This is for the men who struggle with their self-worth, and who feel worthless despite putting forth their best effort. This post is for you if you’ve put in the work: reading books, listening to podcasts, watching videos, working with therapists, and so on. However, no matter what you do, it feels like the moment you’re hit with an urge you fold almost instantly.

Maybe you feel like there’s a level of complexity to rebooting that’s beyond you but you can’t seem to figure out what it is. It seems like you’ve tried it all yet you can’t come out on top. You’ve done everything within your power but nothing seems to work. You can’t find the wins because it doesn’t feel like you’ve experienced any, even all these years later.

Brother, I want to tell you that your intention matters. You are a good person. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t continue trying to end your behavior. You would give up, throw in the towel, cut your losses, and lean into the easier, darker path. But you’re still here.

A lot of men believe they are bad people if they don’t overcome their out-of-control sexual behavior, but I disagree. You must be a good person if you continue to try to end your behavior. I’ve spoken with thousands of brothers struggling with their compulsive behavior in over a decade of doing this work. Never once have I spoken with a man who wanted to end his problem with porn, sex, and masturbation so he could become a worse man.

I don’t care where you come from. I don’t care whether society brands you as an outcast. I don’t care that your family thinks you’re a monster. I don’t even care that society may have accused you of doing something criminal. I don’t care what you’ve done in your past. If you’re still here standing up after being knocked down time and time again, you’re a good human being.

I get emotional every time I speak or write about this because it affects me so personally. I didn’t think I was a good person. I thought I was a bad person. I thought I was a hypocrite. I thought I was terrible. I thought that if people knew the things I watched and the things I saw, they would never want to speak to me again and that ate me up inside.

It is worse when you get caught. It is worse when you have a record. It’s worse when people who love you, whether it’s your wife, kids, family, colleagues, or people from your church, cast you aside. And it’s the worst when you cast yourself aside because of your self-deprecation and negative self-beliefs.

But you’re wrong, brother.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for every man who continues to put up a fight against his behavior. You may have done some things you don’t want to talk about, but those things don’t define you as a person. You can still make changes in your life. You’re never too far gone to come back from the dark depths of your porn addiction.

I don’t know your future but I want you to know that if you feel like you’re wasting your time, you’re not. Every attempt to quit is another opportunity to stick with it. So long as you hold onto your intention, you still have a fighting chance. Because without intention, you don’t have a damn thing. You have nothing, absolutely nothing.

But men who hang onto that intent, you’re in a better place than those who succumbed to the darkness. Hundreds of thousands of men know they have a problem but have no intention of ending it. They don’t see the issue or they see it and choose to continue acting out. You aren’t that man, though; you’re here reading this right now and you still have a chance.

Intent also lays the groundwork for improving every other aspect of your life. That was the case for me when I started my reboot journey 15 years ago, and it’s the same case today. It’s why I started working out. It’s why I started fixing my finances. I started going to meditation retreats and looking deep within to understand what was happening.

Perhaps that’s where your changed behavior begins. You could be like some of the brothers who joined us by starting in the biochemistry reboot challenge we hosted a few months ago. They focused on their fitness and that propelled them into making the necessary changes to overcome their behavior with porn, sex, and masturbation, too.

It all starts with intent, brother, and if you have that intent then you ARE a good man. It doesn’t matter what the people around you say; trust that I believe in your ultimate good nature, and so does every other brother in the Porn Reboot program. But what you do from now on is up to you. What is your next step?

We’re here if you’re ready to make a lasting change in your life. Porn Addiction Counseling Reboot is far more than anything you’ve tried before. Our system is unlike other programs. You’ll rewire your brain and rebuild your entire life in the process. Every person on our team leads with compassion. It’s at the center of who we are and what we do. The results of that are evident in the hundreds of brothers we work with each month, and we’d love to have you join us, too.

youtube

#Youtube

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keitheaverage · 3 years

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So I'm half-writing, half-daydreaming abt an Ena prequel, encompassing her origins and major events of her life leading up to the canon shorts.

It's gonna be like playing Minesweeper trying to explain these w/o spoiling the Hard Hitting plot points, but I'mma try and give a brief summation of the major events of this prequel:

ACT ONE: Enigma

1) Creation. Most ENAs are governed by a singular emotion (the four main Governs being Joy, Sorrow, Anger, and Love), but this one is a rare Two-Toned variant.

2) The Clinic. Ena is sent to a special facility in hopes of her condition being "cured," but the Practitioner in charge of her care is callous and cruel to her. Many failed experiments and general poor treatment leads to a lot of health and self-esteem issues for Ena that are hard to shake.

3) Life in Enigma. Ena is removed from the clinic and cared for by a love-governed ENA named Venas. While her new caretaker is a gentle and compassionate mother-figure, she is bullied by most of her peers for her two-toned appearance and jarring emotional outbursts.

Ena's home of Enigma is compromised when the firewall built to protect its citizens from outsiders is destroyed. She flees the chaos with Venas, but the two are separated after being targeted by bandits just outside of the Kingdom of Fengaria, and in an attempt to escape, Ena falls through the icy lake just outside of the royal palace and nearly drowns/freezes.

[INTERMISSION]

ACT TWO: Castle of Fengaria

4-6) A new life. Ena is plucked from danger by one Princess Hegemone, who takes her to the palace to recover. Ena is taken in by the royal family, who employ her as a servant. She spends her off-hours reading any book she can get her hands on in the massive palace library, and she finds new friends in other members of the staff.

One day while hanging up laundry, thinking she is alone, she is witnessed singing and dancing by Princess Hegemone herself, and when this talent is recognized by the King & Queen, she is appointed as an official performer of the Royal Court. While this opens Ena to new privileges and opportunities, this also separates her from her fellow comrades in the servants' quarters.

However, she is not alone for long, as she starts seeing more of the Princess who rescued her; Ena and Hegemone, finding kinship in each other's shared fears of inadequacy and loneliness due to their respective statuses, become friends, and Ena even begins affectionately referring to the Princess as Moony.

7) Performer. Ena, who lived a majority of her life thus far believing she wouldn't achieve anything substantial, is surprised when a flood of applause and "Brava's!" come her way after her first performance.

8) Grind. She becomes nearly addicted to the sudden show of positive attention, and throws herself into the job. This worries Moony, but Ena assures her that a little fatigue and soreness is well-worth it.

9) Burn out. Ena's frequent, back-to-back performances begin to exacerbate old wounds she had received back in her Clinic days, and one night suffers a horrific leg injury, as well as exhaustion and strained vocal chords.

10) In hospice. Despite Moony's frequent hospital visits to try and cheer her up, Ena despairs when she learns that the King & Queen plan on letting her go, and this depression is only further expanded after she and Moony have an argument and falling out.

An old friend of Ena's visits her, a painter she had once met at a royal ball and connected with over their shared love of art and opera. He's heard of her plight and offers her a place to stay in exchange of becoming his newest muse. Alone, and with no other options to fall back on, she graciously accepts his offer and moves in with him.

[INTERMISSION]

ACT THREE: La Casa de Ruísi

11) Muse. The painter Ruisi is a true gentleman, showering Ena with praise and affection. And while it's smaller in scale than the castle, she wants for nothing while living in his luxurious home.

But living there isn't without it's problems. Ena starts to become isolated and lonely, especially after her attempts to reconnect with Moony are intercepted and discouraged by Ruisi, convinced that it would be a fool's errand after the fight they had had, and that Ena shouldn't get her hopes up that Moony would even reply.

She's also a bit uncomfortable with some of the subject matter of Ruisi's paintings, and the things he requests of her to wear and do. But as he says, it's just the past trauma and deprivation of love and positive attention she's received throughout her life that's been holding her back from reaching her true potential as a muse. A woman as beautiful as her should be more confident in herself, after all!

The worst part of it all is the frequent nightmares she's been having of being chased and devoured by a hideous beast. And why is she only having these nightmares on the nights she should be celebrating the success of each new painting? Is it nerves? Past trauma resurfacing? Or could something about her new lifestyle be making her that unhappy?

She wants to voice this concern to Ruisi, but she doesn't want to offend him. He's been nothing but kind to her, and she doesn't want to come off as ungrateful.

12) True colors. The beast reveals itself and in the heat of the moment, Ena is forced to make a series of agonizing choices.

[END...?]

I can't reveal much more past this point without giving out major spoilers (and I'd honestly love to write/draw this story out in full one day--and I gotta keep some suspense and surprises!), so I'm calling it here. But I look forward to sharing more of Prequel Enigma in the future!

#ena #ena fanart #ena joel g #prequel enigma #kei's average art tag

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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That’s Why I Love You

Pairing: Pothead!Fuckboy!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It’s fuck love till you’re fucking and in love

Warnings: Angst with one line of hope, a dash of smut

A/N: Honestly this is what I thought of when I heard the song below. This song is so addicting in all the worst ways. Also ty lxngbottom for tempting me to write this -mwah-

He couldn't stop, he was addicted. Every square inch, every kiss, every single thrust had him wanting more and more. Neville didn't know it was possible to be addicted to one person so much. He knew what it was like to be driven by lust considering most his bedroom endevors were. Neville was no rookie when it came to fucking, in fact, other than his herbology skill (and his weed) it was the thing he was most commonly known for.

Hookups were his thing because hookups were simple. They don’t require any emotions. A simple in and out, fuck her and leave. It was something he did with almost no thought. Why would he? It wasn’t his responsibility for the feelings that could occur or form, the people he screwed around with weren’t stupid and if they were once again, that wasn’t his problem. He made it abundantly clear to every girl he slept with that he was not in the market for anything more than a casual fuck, maybe even a string of fucks. And even though he saw no problem with it, quite a few people did causing him to have a notorious reputation. No one would’ve ever saw it coming during 1st year but now, Neville was a fuckboy in his prime (and a damn good one too).

But sometimes he found himself thinking of how he could change, how he could put it out on the line for one girl, one really addicting girl. Her name coursed through his skin at the same rate his blood did and fuck was it scary. Neville couldn’t quite place it at first. He thought she just had fire pussy, which she did, but he was smart enough to know it was more than that. The first time he had tried to figure it out was when he was hotboxing his dorm with Seamus and Ron.

“What’s on your mind, man?” Seamus asked, coughing and spluttering a bit as he gave Neville the blunt. Neville took it, taking a perfect hit as he looked up at his friend confused. “You’re looking unusually tense for someone who smokes as much as we do.”

“Nah mate, I’m just thinking. Y’know that chick I’ve been fucking?” he asked, leaning back as he ran a hand through his wavy tresses.

“Which one? That’d be like asking ‘you see that star in the sky?’.” he rolled his eyes at the boy, handing him back the joint roughly.

“You know, (Y/n). The one with the thighs?” Seamus’s eyes lit up, making a growling noise at the mention of the girl. She was attractive, intensely so. However, she ignored the advances of just about every man that had approached her. Every man but Neville that is. “Well like she’s been making me feel things. Like weird things. I don’t know if she’s used a-”

“Easy man. You’re in love. Simple as that.”

When Seaus had proposed that idea, he thought it was absurd! He didn’t do love, love was stupid. It made you blind and clueness, an absolute fool. Love requires you to take each and every part of yourself and expose it to someone, a stranger, and hope, pray that the accept you for who you are. How could he do that, when he didn’t know who he was himself? But the more and more he mulled over Seamus’s words, the more the idea creeped up to him. He tried to ignore it, running and running from it, but it was at every corner, down every corridor, and in every orgasm. He grew suspicious of him ownself when he started canceling his other shags, making excuses of why he couldn’t see them in order to fit her into his schedule. When he was fucking her, screwing her brains out, he didn’t have to acknowledge his feelings.

He knew it wasn’t fair to her but to hell with it. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her cause afterall they both wanted the same thing, to feel something other than love, something other than the pain that came with feelings.

Unbeknownst to him, she was in the same boat. She knew as soon as the feeling first came to be in her. It was crazy really, love really was the way they described it in books. One minute, you’re ignoring every man to ever approach you, then suddenly you’re banging your plug day in and day out. (Y/n) blamed the smoke sessions because that’s what it started out as. They were small, intimate, and cozy. Neville always had the best jams to smoke to but they were so sensual...so overwhelming. It seemed like she could feel his words embedding into her skin.

She had never wondered about what they were. They were aquaintances who smoked a bowl together from time to time. But something in her that night, whether it be the bud or her subconscious mind made her take that leap. (Y/n) knew she was responsible for it all in the first place. Neville had been nothing but kind, never touching her, never trying to make an advance on her- but maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was frustrated that the guy that got around most at Hogwarts had never made an advance on her. Maybe she was in love with the idea of the chase and not the idea of him.

Is what she’d say if she was truly in denial. She knew what she was feeling. She had been in love once before which is exactly why she didn’t want to fall in love again. Draco had left her a cold, empty, emotionless shell of what she once was. It took her ages to build back that confidence and she wasn’t in the market to lose it again.

But when he looked down at her, with those pretty hazel eyes, sometimes she couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to fall in love with him. What it’d be like to stay in his bed after they were done, smoking a blunt together through a drowsy exchange of words. For him to look at her with love instead of lust, to make love together instead of the harsh fucking they’d usually do. Even though she had came to terms with it herself, it didn’t matter. She knew Neville and Neville knew her (or at least who she used to be).

“F-fuck! Oh my god, right there Nev! Y-ye-es!” she moaned out, arching her back into his grasp. He tightened his grip, adding a force he didn’t know he had into the already strenuous rhythm that he had been going. They had been going at it for hours, (Y/n) on her 5th orgasm and Neville barely just beginning to reach his first. Other than the sheer size of his dick, Neville’s stamina made him a serious threat.

“Y-yeah? Right here, baby?” he asked through staggered breaths, hitting her spot repeatedly for emphasis. He ripped his eyes from the ceiling, looking into hers. Her fucked out expression combined with the way she was clenching around him was enough to make him lose it. With his orgasm drawing near, he became feral, balls slapping against her with each harsh thrust as he choked her. He pressed her deeper into the bed, resting his forehead against hers as he felt himself about to release and with the way she was thrashing about and whimpering, he could tell she was close too. “Oh fuck, angel!”

“I love you!” they both screamed, eyes widening as they came down from their high, the weight of their words crashing down on them. He pulled out of her quickly, staring at her as she stared back.

“You...I...what?” he whispered. However, she didn’t respond, quickly putting her panties back on as she slid her dress over her head. Was she really leaving? After they had both confessed so feverishly? “You’re not actually about to leave are you? Really?! (Y/n) I heard you say it, I heard you say it loud and clear!” however the girl still wouldn’t look at him.

“Listen, Neville. We already have something good and I…” she trailed off as she opened the door. He gasped as she turned around, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You’re wrong, you’re wrong and you know it!” he seethed, watching as she froze, turning around the other way once again. “You can run away all you want, but I’m not giving up on you.” he said, sincerity laced through his words. Even though she didn’t respond, she had heard his words. Closing the door, she left without another sound.

‘That’s why I love you.’

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #Spotify

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years

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Late

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

A/N: Thanks as always to @bluenet13 for beta reading!

Read on AO3

T.K. was late. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to be running late; when you worked as a civil servant the end of the day was determined by when the work was done, not what the clock on the wall said. Dating someone who understood that was rare, a gift. They understood and forgave the tardiness without malice.

He’d texted, telling Carlos to go ahead and get a drink and order an appetizer if he wanted. But Carlos waited, anxious to see his date (boyfriend? booty call? friend with benefits?). It had been a long day and he’d been looking forward to this evening since T.K. had texted and asked him about it two days ago. That was a step forward, T.K. asking him out instead of the other way around. It had to mean…something, right? Maybe?

Oh god, his sister, Francesca, had been right when she told him he was hopelessly gone on this guy. Her actual comment had included a few more swear words and a surprising amount of sexual innuendo, even for his sister, but the message was the same: He was in love with a guy who liked him back. And he was doing a pretty terrible job of figuring the relationship out.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” T.K. slid into the seat across from him, interrupting the gymnastics of his mental anxiety.

“No worries,” Carlos said, offering up a smile. “I got you a sparkling water and ordered a cheese plate.”

“Great, that’s great,” T.K. said, fidgeting in his chair like he couldn’t get comfortable.

Carlos hadn’t known T.K. for long, but the man read like an open book. He could tell something wasn’t right. “Everything okay?” he asked as T.K. picked up the menu and flipped it over without reading it before setting it back down again.

“What? Yeah, yes, yes everything’s fine,” he said, picking the menu back up again.

Carlos studied him, feeling his leg bounce up and down under the table. “You sure? You seem on edge. Rough day at work?”

T.K. set the menu down again and schooled his face into what Carlos assumed he thought was a neutrally pleasant expression, but was really a smile that strained around the edges. “No, I’m good. Sorry. So, what are you thinking about? The filet? Or actually the salmon looks really good. With the lemon sauce?”

Carlos let T.K. chatter his way through dinner about inane subjects such as the different types of hose nozzles, his Dad’s medicinal tea collection, and how to properly hail a taxi in New York. Carlos hmmed and nodded in all the right places, all the while mentally going through a list of possible reasons for T.K.’s uneasiness. A difficult shift seemed most likely, but T.K. had denied that. Could something have happened to someone he knew in New York? Or was there…was there someone else? He knew about T.K.’s recent horrendous break up, but was it possible that whoever he’d left behind had come calling? It happened more often than not, a quick rebound and then back to the previous relationship, he’d seen it time and and time again.

His heart squeezed a little bit at the thought and he mentally shook himself. T.K. had given him no indication that things between them were off, he shouldn’t assume and possibly fabricate a problem for himself that didn’t exist.

They finished their meal, declining desert and coffee, and headed for the parking lot. “So,” Carlos finally said, his first word in quite a while. “Did you want to come over or…?”

“Yeah,” T.K. said far too brightly in the fakest possible way.

T.K. seemed to have run out of bizarre facts and mundane topics to talk about because he was quiet on the drive back to Carlos’, seemingly lost in whatever was going on in his head, fingers absently playing with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands.

He didn’t even move when they stopped in the driveway, eyes staring straight ahead out the windshield. “T.K.,” Carlos said softly.

He startled and cleared his throat. “Hey, sorry.” He flashed another fake smile and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Carlos’ lips, quickly trying to turn it into more.

Carlos let him for a moment, not pulling back, but not fully giving in either, still trying to get a read on what was going on tonight. The current situation suggested it had nothing to do with them, which was a relief. But something was still wrong.

“Should we take this inside?” T.K. asked a moment later, his hand sliding up Carlos’ thigh, even as the enthusiasm didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Carlos cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to?”

That got T.K.’s full attention and his brow furrowed. “I—yes. Yeah I wanted to come over and be with you.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of Carlos’ nose. “Come on.”

They walked inside and for once Carlos let T.K. take the lead as they landed on the couch, lips locked together, hands in each other’s hair, running up and down each other’s bodies. But it wasn’t fast and hard or even slow and gentle it was just…as if T.K. was going through the motions. And Carlos was not okay with that.

He pulled away, sitting up, putting distance between them. “What’s wrong?” T.K. asked in confusion. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

“What?”

Carlos fixed him with a firm look. “T.K. I want to have sex with you, I do. But I’m a big fan of enthusiastic consent. And right now you’re consenting but…I’m kind of missing the enthusiasm.”

T.K. sighed and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I should have just gone home.”

Carlos felt a pang of sympathy as he watched the weight of whatever T.K. was dealing with settle fully on his shoulders. He reached over and put a hand on T.K.’s knee. “You know, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here. Or if you don’t want to talk I can drive you home. No questions asked.”

He could see T.K.’s jaw working, like he was trying to hold back tears. He shook his head silently, misery all over his face and Carlos couldn’t take it any longer. He slid closer so their thighs touched and put his free hand on T.K.’s shoulder. “T.K. what is it?”

The other man sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “My dad has cancer.”

Of all the things he’d considered, this had never crossed his mind. It felt like a punch in the gut. And if it felt that way to him, he could only imagine how it felt to T.K.

“It’s lung cancer,” T.K. continued. “From the towers. And he didn’t tell me. He just moved us across the country like he could run away from it. I thought he made us come here because of me but really, it was because of him. And me. Both of us I guess, I don’t even know anymore.”

T.K. looked so wrung out and exhausted and Carlos’ heart ached, wishing for all the world that he could somehow take his pain away.

“He’s been getting chemo and dealing with this for months now, all on his own because he couldn’t tell me or didn’t want to tell me or didn’t trust me enough to tell me and I feel really REALLY shitty about it,” T.K. said. “Like the worst son in the world for not noticing and not being…okay enough for him to talk to me about it. Because you know that people with a support system have a better chance of beating cancer than people that don’t. And I haven’t been providing that for him. I’ve just been dealing with my own shit again.”

His intake of breath was shaky, words continuing to pour out of him. “And I told him that I wasn’t scared, that I knew he was going to be all right, but I think that was a lie. Because right now I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I’m going to lose him. And I promised myself I would never lie to him again after what happened in New York but how could I say anything else? He needs me to be strong but,” T.K. finally looked up and met Carlos’ eyes, “I’m not very good at being strong. As evidenced by the addiction and relapses.”

He shook his head again and ran an agitated hand over his face. “And I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I kind of can’t stop thinking about it and it all just kind of…spilled out.”

Carlos squeezed his knee. “Well, they do call me “The Confessor” at the precinct. Bad guys take one look at me and give up all their secrets.”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “They do?”

“No, T.K. it’s a joke.” He winced slightly. “Maybe not the right time for a joke. Sorry.”

T.K. snorted. “No it’s…thanks. I needed that.” He exhaled slowly. “I think I needed all of that. I don’t uh, I don’t have many people I can talk to about stuff like this. So thanks for letting me unload on you. Again.”

“You can talk to me anytime,” Carlos said. “I mean it. And if you need help with your dad, anything at all, I’m glad to do that too. I can drive to appointments, pick things up, make phone calls, or just be a shoulder to cry on.”

T.K. gave him a soft, smile, the first genuine one of the night, and cupped his cheek. “You are so sweet. You know that?”

“I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Carlos told him. “I’m not just saying it; I’m serious T.K. Anything you need, anything at all.”

He couldn’t fix this, couldn’t tell T.K. that it would all be all right in the end, couldn’t give him the assurances he longed for, but he could offer his presence and support.

“I know,” T.K. said, and he seemed to genuinely believe it. “Thank you.”

Carlos leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment before pressing their foreheads together. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

T.K. nodded against him and didn’t pull back. “Do you mind if we don’t…I just don’t think I…”

“How about we watch a movie?” Carlos suggested. “I’ll make some popcorn, we can relax. Decompress a little bit.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos smiled. “Believe it or not I like being with you even when we’re not having sex. And I am very capable of going without for a night or two.”

“But not three?” T.K. asked as Carlos got up and moved to the kitchen.

Carlos gave a fake wince. “That would be pushing it. I might have to find another hot shot firefighter from New York to hook up with.”

“You get a lot of those in Austin?”

“Oh they’re a dime a dozen around here,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as he started the microwave. “Walk down the street and you’re bound to run into at least a few. Although, I don’t think all of them have such a passion for hose nozzles.”

Now T.K. winced for real. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m anxious.”

“I noticed. It’s okay. And next time I’m at a scene and someone asks me for a hose nozzle, I will definitely be able to help. In fact, I think I’ll add that to my resumé. Hose Nozzle Expert.”

“Oh god,” T.K. rolled his eyes. “I’m a terrible date.”

Carlos returned with the popcorn. “Well I’ll guess we’ll just have to go on another one. Give you a chance to make it up to me.”

“Friday?” T.K. asked.

“I have a shift starting mid-morning.”

“Breakfast then?”

Carlos handed him the popcorn bowl. “Breakfast it is. Now,” he settled back into the couch and pulled T.K. toward him until they were cuddled together. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #T.K. Strand #Carlos Reyes #Tarlos Fic #Late #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #Soft boys #Domestic Tarlos #Fluff

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 2 years

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tuesday again 12/7/21

tuesday again no problem will be taking next week off. also a reminder that if information is in a trailer or back-of-book blurb i do not consider it a spoiler.

also also i am a smidge superstitious about posting these on a day that is not actually tuesday but i’m going to be extremely fucking busy tomorrow and i want to go to bed now and i do not trust the post scheduler

listening dirty little animals by bones uk from n/etflix’s ar/cane

this is one of my favorite bands and i’m so glad they’re getting some of that sweet sweet n/etflix/riot money. however, this feels more “produced” or like, tumble-ground smooth? and clubby than the rest of their stuff and i’m not sure if i love it. there’s some sort of digital fuzz happening instead of their natural pack-a-day voices. while i like the drop into the third repetition of the chorus (lyrics below, around 2:35) very much, that kind of strobing blippy electronica is not present of much of their other work. it’s a good song! it’s fun to listen to! im being a bitchy old lady about it!

Slide, shake your bones out if you wanna ride Throw your head back, make you feel alive The kind of bad that make you feel good, good God, the kinda wrong that make you feel right The little death that make you feel alive The kinda shouldn't that mean that you should, should, should

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reading sometimes you only roll around to a book your friend recommended in fuckin mid-2017 or some shit through sheer chance bc the library happened to have it available. anyway i’m reading a book that seems tailor made for me, Wool by Howard Howey. ebooks aren’t photogenic here’s a pretty cover fuck this is gonna be huge

almost did not continue with this book! starts out with a Dead Wife Guy! but i sat there and thought “my dear friend @morrak would never rec me some shit like this” and forged onward. anyway it faked me out with the Dead Wife Guy and we’re following just the crankiest lady mechanic with a misplaced sense of duty instead. i am a smidge under a third of the way through and kind of rationing it out for myself

this is a weird tangent but i have at times been accused of being mysterious/inscrutable/Hard To Get To Know. this does baffle me while also making me feel a little bit like a secret agent, bc while that is true for stuff about my personal life and/or my tragic backstory, my likes and dislikes are quite clear (i think). i am a weak and simple woman, and i am not immune to a butch mechanic lady.

like yes, it did take me four years to pick this book up but morrak absolutely figured me out inside of like. two months

watching good evening. riot games would like you to forget that they have numerous ongoing lawsuits, and are one of the worst places to work period, anywhere, let alone the extremely toxic workplace culture of bideo james. now let’s talk about their show on n/etflix, a/rcane, which unfortunately i liked the visuals of a great deal.

i have never played this game and i never will bc i respect myself too much to get into esports so i went into this totally blind.

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anyway The Series gave me a satisfying amount of worldbuilding. i was very willing to suspend my disbelief within the framework they gave me. always a slut for an airship. love an undercity, love urban magic, love steampunk art noveau. there’s a certain quality to the design here, and something about the brushstrokes, that is very Ah! Video Games! and translates well to full-budget animation without looking like cutscenes. you’ll know what i mean when you see it. i think it will be very hard to properly review this show without comparisons to d/ishonored and b/ioshock (particularly infinite).

i have some thoughts about chronic pain, addiction, deformity as morality, disability, prosthetics, and quality of life as depicted in this cartoon. i feel i am being perhaps too measured when i say “well real life societies fucking suck at this too.” i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this aspect of the show, but because several of them hit very close to home, i am going to end this section on: viktor did nothing wrong and i would have done the same things in his position.

when i write these up, i don’t like falling into the (very easy) trap of just listing “representation FAIL” type shit. however! i do not love how the criminal underworld is nearly all non-human or non-white. i especially do not love that the one powerful black nation we see are warmongerers intent on securing new weapons tech. i think possibly the league lore is just Like That bc, again, video games are bad. i also do not think this is a good excuse. r/iot has done essentially nothing to curb the worst parts of their fanbase, but at some point they will need to improve or die as a company and a franchise.

this show almost gets to the frantic teetering careening edge of “you’ve finally got what you wanted and have been working for all along, are you willing to do more to keep it? you’ve got the thing you wanted, but it doesn’t actually matter any more bc the world has kept turning while you were so focused on getting the thing you want. also, you can get everything you want, are you willing to pay the price?” i know and understand this is a silly little video game cartoon adaptation. i want more victories to be hollow and feel like ash in my mouth. i did not expect ANY victories to feel like ash in my mouth so honestly this show is doing leaps and bounds better than i expected re: basic political structure.

anyway if you’re willing to sit though a bunch of cops, just a lot of Stuff regarding race and gender dynamics i’m not qualified to talk about, a well-meaning (?) but heavy-handed portrayal of ptsd and schizophrenia (possibly? jinx has whatever mental illness will give her the most fun to animate flashbacks), in order to watch some very pretty animation in a cool city and get queerbaited while being stabbed in the heart with nesting father/daughter stories, this show is what it is. maybe it’s not for you. personally i’m fine with watching through it once, i don’t necessarily regret watching it but the disability stuff alone soured me quite a bit.

can people who’ve already watched this shout to me about silco bc i have Thoughts and Feelings

playing portal to empire https://aidanquinlan.net/empire/index.html this is neither a visual novel nor a walking sim. it’s sort of a meander through the back halls of capitalism. i got used to the ticker tape text display pretty quickly so if it’s really bugging you stick it out a bit? for me? you can pause it by hovering your mouse over the text

making too fucking busy this fall/cash is a smidge tight/didn’t want to trust things to the inconsistent mercies of the postal service and not have them get there in time, so this is the first december in a long long while where i’m not scrambling to get gifts done. feels weird. don’t like it.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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samnyangie · 3 years

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Since people liked rsl interview on dps, I’d like to share one of my favourite interview by him. I think it’s one of those rare interview where he wasn’t joking around that much but discuss acting quite seriously haha

So enjoy:DD

(Credit)

____________________________

1990 New York Times

Young Actor's Life Has the Makings of a Movie

by Lynn Mautner

New York Times

May 20, 1990

It would make a good movie. A 15-year-old sophomore at Ridgewood High School is playing the Artful Dodger in the musical ''Oliver'' with the school's theater group, New Players, when he is discovered by a casting agency secretary and whisked off to Broadway and the movies.

That's exactly what happened to Robert Sean Leonard, now 21, and a star of the 1989 film ''Dead Poets Society,'' which received an Oscar for best original screenplay.

''My mother took me to New Players' summer performances when I was 10,'' he said, ''and I loved the camaraderie of people, rehearsing and singing. I began spending more time there, painting signs and moving furniture, and soon became an element of the company, with small roles in 'The Miracle Worker,' 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,' 'Barnum.' ''

Starting as an understudy for three roles at the New York Public Theater (he never got on stage), Mr. Leonard amassed credits that include ''The Beach House'' with George Grizzard for the Circle Repertory Theater, television movies, ''Brighton Beach Memoirs'' and ''Breaking the Code'' on Broadway, plays at the West Bank Cafe on 42d Street and the recent ''When She Danced'' at Playwrights Horizons.

He has just completed a part as Paul Newman's and Joanne Woodward's son in the movie ''Mr. and Mrs. Bridge,'' filmed in Kansas City, to be released in August. ''I age from a 15-year-old Eagle Scout to 22, coming home from World War II with a mustache,'' Mr. Leonard said.

Mr. Leonard, who received a general equivalency diploma when he was 17, lives in New York City and attends Fordham University between performances. Soon to return from the Cannes Film Festival with his fellow actors in ''Dead Poets,'' he is next scheduled to go into rehearsal for the film ''Married to It,'' a romantic comedy.

Q. Do you remember when you decided on an acting career?

A. I never decided to pursue an acting career. It just has happened. I still think it's going to stop and I'll have to get a real job soon, but I'm afraid to question it because if I do, it will disappear.

Q. How do you think your theater experience in high school has helped you?

A. It was a great teaching experience that prepared me in a lot of ways. We did 10 shows in 10 weeks, so there was no time to think about method. It was running for the stage, hoping you'll make it in time for your entrance. In Steven Soderbergh's new book of his diaries when directing the film ''Sex, Lies and Videotape,'' he said that on a film set there should always be a chain of command, but never a chain of respect.

At New Players, those three to four years, everyone was given the same respect. You had to, because you'd be the lead one week and painting sets the next. That's a luxury that is not available in New York, unfortunately, because of the unions. You're an actor and that's it.

Q. Have you taken any acting lessons? Do you recommend them for others?

A. I've taken two classes - a video acting class to help me get from stage to film, with Marty Winkler, currently my manager, and an acting class at H. B. Studios.

Acting classes are tricky. It's like asking someone in therapy if they'd recommend going to a psychiatrist. For some people it's great; for some it's not necessary; for some it's harmful. The best way to learn acting is just to do it.

There's a danger to the classroom, because it's safe, and you can get addicted to it. The clique of people are there, and you might tend to remain with them and never go out on your own. So it can give you the safety net which can eventually strip away your courage to go out and really try. On the other hand, you can get a wonderful teacher who brings out the best in you and gives you the courage to go out and dazzle everybody.

Q. You went from high school to Off Broadway. What were your feelings and fears during your first professional performance?

A. The first time I performed in New York - in ''Sally's Gone, She Left Her Name'' - I played Michael Learned's son. I think I was too young. I wasn't even aware of reasons to be afraid. I was just there for the fun of it. Fresh out of New Players, I knew it to be fun. I've never worried about lines. In ''Brighton Beach'' I should have been tense, because it was Broadway. I was nervous, but not racked - more excited.

Q. What do you enjoy most about acting?

A. The people, and opportunities to learn, to travel, both physically and emotionally. To look at people other than myself and try to figure out what makes them tick.

Olivier said you never play a villain; you play a man considered to be a villain; that you have to justify everything he does first; you have to know that what you are doing is right and find a way to make it right - even murder.

I just played a conceited piano player in ''When She Danced,'' and I had to figure out what would make a person be conceited and make that O.K. with me. I learned where conceit comes from - from confidence and talent.

Worst thing you can do is play someone and judge him at the same time, saying: ''Here I am. I am so conceited.'' First you have to understand why you're that way so that people interpret you as conceited.

Q. Do you consider acting an escape?

A. I don't look at performing as escaping, as really becoming another person and leaving my problems for two hours, so I don't have to deal with me, because I don't become another person. I work, so that when I am working, in a way it is me at my best. I'm not leaving myself; in fact, I'm more focused on myself than ever. I don't become that person, but I fully understand him, fully explore him, as to why he does what he does and justify it.

You can't play a fool to play Bottom, who's the opposite of fool in Shakespeare's ''Midsummer Night's Dream.'' What makes people fools is that they're completely confident in what they're doing. They don't think they're fools; they think they're right on track, which makes them so funny and makes them look like fools.

Q. Who influenced you the most?

A. I have not had one person or experience that stands out that's a turning point. Every step in acting relies heavily on the one before. Everything I've learned colors everything I have known before, and suddenly changes it.

I have learned a little bit from everyone I have known, whether about acting itself, or living and working as an actor. Like a good detective novel, for every clue that is solved, two more appear. Every time I learn something, it opens two other doors. In ''Dead Poets,'' the rooftop scene, where I throw the desk set off, was improvised. Are instincts then a part of acting?

Q. Are there desirable qualities to have as an actor?

A. Concentration, perseverence, lack of inhibitions. There's no room for self-consciousness on stage. Also, there is an element in acting that is not fair. Whatever talent is, part of it can be learned and part can't. There are people that audiences like to watch or don't. In Soderbergh's book, he says that talent plus perseverance will equal luck. But I don't know what talent is; it is beyond definition.

Q. Do you learn by watching other films and plays? Your own? Other people?

A. Sometimes I watch for directing; sometimes for performing. There are lines in ''Dead Poets'' I would do differently, if given the chance. For example, Todd said: ''You talk and people listen to you, Neil. I am not like that.'' I answer, ''Don't you think you could be?'' I think I could have made it clearer. I don't get much from observing strangers, because although I see what they do, I don't know where they're coming from.

Q. What are the main differences between stage and film work?

A. I feel that as an actor, you should start in theater, to learn the process of creating a character, in rehearsal. Film is an arena for people who already know that, because on the set they expect you to know the character inside out.

Film work is harder, because this tangible part has to happen in your head before filming takes place. And it's more solitary. You create your character alone, without the give-and-take of other actors.

Q. What tips would you give young, aspiring actors?

A. Read plays aloud with friends at home; do any work you can do in high school. Hang out with jocks, leatherheads, and see what makes them work. Don't be a theater rat and only talk to actors. Read a lot. You really have to feel it; really want it; then take it. Don't take no for an answer. Seize the day.

___________________________

There’s another one I really want to share as well, I’ll bring it with me at some point:))

#robert sean leonard #rsl #theatre #acting #interview #I love how he ended the interview with seize the day

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pieces-by-me · 3 years

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You have me

Words: 2459

Summary: Hvitserk went through the same thing once. But can he help her get through it too?

Warnings: Mentions of death, drug abuse, angst. (English is not my first language)

Prompt: angst = comforting the character after the death of someone dear to them.

-So this is my little thing for @maggiescarborough 400 follower writing challenge. I wanted to post this sooner but I just got stuck. I hope you still enjoy reading this and that you like it. Also this is my first time writing for Hvitserk. 400 is such a big step and I’m sure you already grew but still I’m really proud of you! I hope you have the best of days 🌼

Hvitserk frowned as he entered the house. Empty again, like all the other times he visited the small hut at the outskirts of Kattegat. It looked like someone broke in and ransacked the whole place. Tables lay on their side, legs broken off. Clothes torn apart on the ground. Books, books the inhabitant loved dearly on any normal day, lay spread across the room. Pages kinked and ripped. No one was there and the hearth in the back looked like it wasn't used all day.

“Oh Y/N”

Y/N was not at her home but Hvitserk knew exactly where to look for her. There where three possible places. A little clearing in the woods filled with small yellow flowers, the offshore piece of land that was hidden from the people of Kattegat or, and he hoped she was not there again, the hut between the stables and the eel fisher. The same hut he himself used to visit in need of his next fix. A dingy and hideous place for such a person as her.

He went to the forest and beach first without any luck of finding the girl he searched for all day. How can she be there again? He only brought her home late at night and it was barely noon on this day. The dark blond haired men went with his fingers through his hair as he stood in front of the door he himself stood so many times. Deep breaths in and out to calm his nerves. Without knocking he went inside and was met with the disgusting smell of vomit, shit and death. Any man would say it was not a pleasant blend of smells.

Lost eyes found his. But none of them were with a shade of light he used to see in his favorite pair. Anywhere he looked he saw old men and younger once. Lying on the floor, snoring away or cowering in the corner. Trying to escape the ghosts. For just the smallest of seconds he thought he saw a burnt figure standing in the back stretching their arm out towards him.

“Snap out of it!”

The inner call to himself brought him back on his search. But after checking almost everywhere he gave up and went back to the entrance. Where could she be? Why wasn't she here?

Then the sound of a woman vomiting on the floor in the west corner, hidden under old fishnets and rotten blankets, made him stop. Sadly the sound was all too familiar to him.

Hvitserk made his way over to the ball of fabric the women hid under. The body shaking and heaving after throwing every little bit of food and water up. Drenching the floor in sick and tears.

Taking in a deep breath Hvitserk bend down to lift up the tattered bundle of cloth.

When he revealed the women he was met with the disoriented eyes from his childhood friend, Y/N. Unfocused, dull and broken. Thats all he could see in her stare.

“Y/N? Come on I'm taking you home.”

With only one word she broke his heart again.

“Mikkel?”

No he wasn't Mikkel. He couldn't be. Everyone in Kattegat knew about the little man that died unfairly and far too soon. Mikkel was Y/N's little brother. The one that made everyone smile. The one that always had a plan or idea to brighten up your day. The one that was good.

12 years and he was just ripped away. The saddest part was that nobody knows how he died.

One day he was found in the woods. Drenched in blood and cold to the touch. Some said he died because of the cold and then animals showed up, others said he was ripped apart by wolfs and then some, the once that were cruel, swore he was murdered and left there to rot.

Who would murder a 12 year old child that never did anything evil?

All these unanswered questions plagued Y/N's mind. Hvitserk could see that day after day. He could relate to that far too well. He also seeked out the bliss of not knowing and swimming in mushroom dreams and mead. But he got out. He had his little brother to help him. To get him out of this pit. And he would be damned if he let you stay in it. She may not have her little brother anymore but she had him.

“Y/N it's me, Hvitserk. Come up we have to get you back. You're freezing and you need something to eat.”

A rare clarity settled in her eyes at his voice. And with that clarity came anger.

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone!” It was supposed to be a scream but her voice sounded horse and bitter. Not enough use made it brittle and not enough water made it harsh. She spoke in stuttering sentences. Broken just like her.

“And I told you every time that you will not get rid off me.”

With that he grabbed her arms, pulled her up and swung her over his shoulder. Maybe a little harsh to just take her, but he did this often enough to know that talking to her wouldn't work.

Her failed attempt at punching his back felt like jumps from a flea and her demands to be put down didn't make it out of her mouth. Because after only five minutes of walking like that she threw up again. Lucky for Hvitserk's pants nothing more then water came out.

When he made it back to her little hut he brought her right to her bed. Or more to her pelt covered floor. Y/N was just laying there. Not saying anything and not looking at him. But she was also not trowing up anymore so that was good. Hvitserk used the time that was spend quiet with cleaning her hut and trying to fix her table as best as he could. But after two hours she still said nothing. She wouldn't even look at him. He knew that she was not happy with him, but he was not happy with her either. Though he wouldn't tell her that. He knew she needed time and help. And he would be here and help her. Help her get on her feet again.

“Why are you still here?”

Her voice sounded through the hut but it sounded fake. Not like her own.

“You didn't eat the whole day so I'm staying until you have something else in your stomach then mushrooms and alcohol.”

“I'm not hungry”

“We both know you're lying so just stop it already.” Nothing was said after that for another while.

The sun was close to setting and Hvitserk was getting worried. Y/N didn't move or say anything while he cleaned her room and made some mediocre soup. This couldn't go on any longer. He thought that after a while she would accept his help and get better, but no matter what he did she shut him out even more. Maybe it was not enough. His help. Or maybe it was the wrong way. Waiting for her to come to him.

As he looked at the women who was so dear to him he had enough. He wanted her back. As selfish as that sounded. He wanted to hear her laugh again. See her smile. Having her arms around him. He wanted to stumble upon her on the market and ask her how her day went. Not having to search for her and find her with the other addicts in a dingy hut. He wanted to find out what happened to Mikkel so that he could bring her a little closure. Something that would bring her mind to ease, so she wouldn't have to imagine the worst scenarios about her brother. He just wanted her.

Hvitserk went over to her lying body and saw that she trembled again. Not out of cold, or hunger but out of craving for something else. Small noises came out of her mouth. What is he supposed to do? All his attempts at getting her back on her feet were fruitless. Putting his hand on her shoulder her trembling and sniffles stopped.

“Leave me alone Hvitserk.” She wanted to sound strong. To make him hear how much she didn't want him there, even if it would be a lie, she wanted him gone. But her voice was frail and came out not louder then a mouse's squeak. His eyes grew hard at that. That was enough. He would not sit there longer and look her withering away.

“Stand up.”

Nothing. She didn't move even a little bit.

“I said stand up!” His voice raised to a level far from loving. With a tight grip on her shoulder he turned her around. Glassy and confused eyes met his. She didn't think he would make her stand up. Normally he would leave and hope she would sleep and get better. But not this time.

“UP!” Screaming may not have been the best way but it brought her to her feet. Raising with her shoulders still in his hands he stabilized her, she was far to malnourished and weak to stand on her own. Y/N stood in his arms for the first times in weeks but the look in her eyes showed that she would rather be anywhere else. Anger replaced confusion and her voice found new strength.

“What the hell is your problem? I said to leave me alone! Why can't you just do that?”

“You gave me no choice! Everyday I search for you! Everyday I find you in that hut that slowly kills you! And everyday you send me away, just to get back there! Not this time. I will stay near you and won't let you leave until all these foul things leave your body and your need for them stops.”

“I don't want you here!” Her screaming broke his heart. 'She does. She's just not herself right now'

Hvitserk had to belief that, otherwise he would tear up. And he couldn't. He had to be strong for her.

“You only want me to leave to get back to your mushrooms. But I'm not letting you go. I won't lose you”

“You don't understand. I need them.” Tears were falling from her eyes. Not a care in the world how she looked. She lost the care a long time ago.

“You don't. You just need-”

“YES I do!! I can't bare it. I don't want to! I won't!” Her hands grasped at his shoulder now. Trembling and shaking like leaves on trees. And just like leaves her body was slowly being pulled to the ground. But she held on to him and he held her. “Please....just leave” Her voice was small again. Tired and cracking.

“You have to.” His voice mirrored hers. Quiet and small. He didn't want to scream anymore. He felt her closer then ever. Not just her body but she was there. Her old self showed itself. Just a glimmer. But that was all he needed.

“You have to or otherwise this will never get better. You will loose yourself in this.” For the first time in too long she looked into his eyes. Hearing his words.

“You'll have to feel this. Pain and grief. And everything that comes with it. Fear, anger, panic and all the other ghosts. Otherwise you will never feel love or joy again. You will get through this. And I can help you, if you let me”

Trembling lips, flowing tears and choked gasped where his answer for a while. But he held her eyes with his. He was here and wouldn't go anywhere.

“Mikkel died. He is dead.” She never spoke it aloud. Those words never left her lips and now that they did she broke. Her body falling and sobs escaping her lips. Screaming at the pain that made itself notable after weeks of being extinguished and pushed away. Her brother was gone.

“I don't want to feel this!”

Hvitserk caught her falling figure before she hit the ground. Taking her in his arms. Holding her tight as to squeeze all her parts back together. He caressed her back, hoping it would bring her comfort.

“This is normal. You will survive this. Everyone does. You will come out of this. You are not alone even if you think that right now. I'm here. I will not leave you. You will survive this.”

His words and strokes were met with screams of agony. Clawing at his back as if it was the only thing keeping her together. Grounding her in a way that only he could do in this moment.

Sobbing into his neck. Tears also falling from Hvitserk's eyes but he didn't care. He held her as long as she needed. Slowly after what felt like hours her body slowly shut down. Exhaustion weighing her down. Soft whimpers only left her mouth now but her arms stayed strong holding onto him.

“I'm here. You have me. And you will get through this.”

And she would. With time she would. She nodded her head. Never being more grateful that he didn't leave her. He helped her. The only one she couldn't push away. She wanted to thank him. Crying to him that she wound't know where she would be if it wasn't for him. But she was so tired now. She would tell him. But now she needed sleep.

Hvitserk felt how her body slowly slacked against his form. Pulling her completely into his arms and of the floor he laid her back on her furs. Brushing fallen strands of hair out of her face she looked up at him. Her eyes looked like her own again. Not fully glowing but a sparkle of hope nested itself into the far corners of them. Holding on to his hand she squeezed as much as she could. Her voice still quivered but he heard the honesty in her words.

“Thank you.”

Sending her a smile he only nodded his head. Her eyes closing fast and she was pulled under by sleep. Still clutching his hand.

He sat there beside her for a while just looking at her features. She didn't look pained for the first time. And his small smile grew. After a while he stood up. Reheated the soup on the hearth and waited for her to wake up. She would have to get back her strength.

Y/N would get through this and he would help her every step of the way.

#sophies400 #hvitserk vikings #hvitserk #vikings #vikings imagine #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson #writing challenge #my work #imagine #hbo vikings

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter eight

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

Chapter seven was published yesterday, in case you missed it! I was too lazy to make a tumblr post.

The term rollercoaster didn’t seem strong enough to describe the last six weeks of Chloe’s life.

Seeing Beca again. Leaving Marco. Getting clean. Finding out she was pregnant.

She felt like she needed to stop and take a minute to remind herself to breathe, but the weight pressing on her chest prevented her from sucking enough oxygen into her lungs.

“You’re…” Beca blinked twice in slow succession. “...pregnant. With a baby.” She grimaced in the next beat, releasing a breath. “Sorry, I-- I wasn’t expecting that.”

Chloe couldn't blame her for being shocked. She swallowed thickly and cleared the lump from her throat. ��I made an appointment for an abortion. Tomorrow.”

Tears sprang up into her eyes before she could stop them, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to muffle the sob itching to come out.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out, shaking her head.

“Chlo…” Beca murmured, setting a hand over Chloe’s back and the other one on Chloe’s. “You don’t need to apologize. What you’re going through is incredibly hard, and… if an abortion is what you feel is the best option, then that’s what you should do.”

Chloe had always wanted to have kids one day, but this was the worst possible timing. She didn’t have a place to raise that baby, or a job, not to mention that she was a recovering addict.

She nodded along to Beca’s words, as though attempting to convince herself further.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Beca asked. “To the appointment?”

Chloe hesitated. “I don’t want you to miss work because of me.”

“You’re more important than work,” Beca argued softly as her thumb stroked Chloe’s knuckles back and forth. “And I don’t think you should be doing this on your own, you know? But I don’t want to overstep either, so it’s completely up to you.”

Chloe sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away. “I… I think I’d like it if you could be there.”

“Done,” Beca instantly said, nodding firmly. She cleared her throat following a few beats of silence. “So um, is there anything you should do for your recovery? Now that you’re out of rehab, I mean.”

“The therapist there recommended one in the city, I need to call and book an appointment. I’m going to my first NA meeting in two days. Otherwise, I’ve been told having a routine could really help? Like go for a morning walk, do some yoga, cook, clean… that sort of stuff. But all I want to do right now is crash for a few hours.”

Beca nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Let me know if I can do anything to make things easier on you, okay?”

Chloe managed a small smile despite how heavy her heart felt. “I’m already so grateful for what you’re doing for me, Bec.”

“It’s what friends do. Help each other out.”

Chloe ended up sleeping for four hours straight. She had never felt so exhausted in her life, and she guessed it was a mix of the physical and emotional toll of pregnancy and rehab finally hitting her. She didn’t eat much for dinner and mostly pushed her food around in her plate, knowing most of it would come back up as it had for the last few days.

She and Beca got to the clinic ten minutes before Chloe’s appointment that next morning, and after filling out the paperwork, they were led into an exam room, where Chloe was asked to change into a paper gown. She sat down on the edge of the bed once she was changed, her eyes sweeping over the many baby pictures lining the wall.

Her attention shifted to the door when it opened, a middle-aged woman stepping inside.

“Hello, Chloe,” she greeted with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m Dr. Harris.”

“Hi,” Chloe returned quietly. “This is my friend Beca.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Dr. Harris said as she approached. “I was told you’re here to terminate your pregnancy?”

“I-- yes.”

“Okay. As one of the nurses probably told you over the phone, I need to check how far along you are first so we can figure out if a procedure is required,” she explained, setting her chart down and snapping on a pair of gloves. “When was your last period?”

“I-- I’m not sure.”

She used to take the pill. But when you’re fortunate if you remember to eat one meal a day, it’s also easy to forget to renew your birth control prescription. That was just another detail among the many in her life that seemingly had ceased to have consequences or meaning the further she slipped down that rabbit hole.

“Okay, that’s alright. Can you lie down please, and put your feet in the stirrups? I need to do a vaginal ultrasound so we can see better.”

Chloe nodded, scooting back and lifting her feet. She reached for Beca’s hand as nerves sprouted in her belly, immensely grateful for her presence.

“This might not be the most comfortable feeling, but I’ll try to be as gentle as possible,” Dr. Harris said as she placed a condom over the wand before slowly inserting it. She tapped a few keys on the ultrasound machine, gently moving the wand around until a clear image popped up on the screen. It was another minute before she spoke again. “Okay… given the size of the embryo, you’re about seven weeks along, Chloe.”

Chloe puffed out a breath as a kaleidoscope of emotions swept through her. This was her baby, up there on the screen, and the sight of it suddenly made her question everything and ask something that she would regret shortly after. “Can I-- can I listen to the heartbeat?”

The doctor glanced at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed. “I’m sure.”

Nodding, Dr. Harris pushed another key, and the most beautiful sound filled the room a second later. A steady, strong woosh woosh. Tears sprang to Chloe’s eyes, and she felt a squeeze to her hand as she attempted not to let them fall. Her own heart constricted in her chest, so hard it was nearly painful.

“Turn if off, please,” she croaked out, shaking her head as her lids slammed shut, those tears sliding down her cheeks and curling around her chin.

The doctor shut off the machine and withdrew the wand a few seconds later. “You can put your legs down, Chloe.”

Chloe nodded and straightened, taking the tissue Beca offered her and blowing her nose with it.

Dr. Harris watched on, her eyes soft. “You still have some time before making a decision.”

“Did it look healthy?” She found herself asking, then figured she should explain. “I just got out of rehab. I did cocaine and drank a fair amount of alcohol on a daily basis up until four weeks ago. And I was given um...” Chloe scratched her forehead as she raked her brain for the medication name. “Gabapentin for the first two weeks of rehab to help with withdrawal.”

Dr. Harris’ features remained professional as she nodded slowly. “The heartbeat is strong, and I didn’t catch anything abnormal. The risk of miscarriage is more present than for other pregnancies as the drugs crossed through the placenta when you were still using, and that up to twelve weeks. Problems could occur during and after the pregnancy. But the baby could also be perfectly healthy, since you stopped in the early stages of pregnancy. It’s hard to tell.”

Chloe’s mind swam with all these possible scenarios, and she didn’t know whether to listen to her brain or her gut feeling. “How-- how much time do I have to decide?”

Dr. Harris slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Abortion is legal up to 25 weeks in New York state. Up to ten weeks, you can take a pill, past that a surgical procedure is needed.”

Chloe sniffled, swiping the back of her hand under her runny nose. “Okay. Thank you.”

Dr. Harris cast them both a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. I’ll leave informational pamphlets at the desk for you to read, as well as my phone number should you have any questions.”

“Thanks,” Beca said as the doctor walked out, then focused back on Chloe, reaching out to brush her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed? I can go get those pamphlets in the meantime.”

Chloe nodded, her insides caving in as soon as the door clicked shut behind Beca. She gripped the edges of the exam cot hard, her nails digging into the leather and her breathing turning chopped as a mix of panic and sadness unleashed within her.

It all seemed unfair, but she knew her own recklessness was the root of the situation she found herself in.

She eventually managed to calm herself down enough to get dressed, meeting Beca by the desk ten minutes later. The walk home was silent, and Chloe was grateful Beca didn’t push her to talk. She didn’t even know how to process her own thoughts, let alone speaking them aloud.

A few days passed. Chloe slept a lot, and tried to keep herself busy the rest of the time. One hour each morning consisted of hugging the toilet while she puked her guts out, and the rest of her day was spent craving that warm embrace of the rush cocaine once brought her.

The temptation was there. She knew there was a store on the corner of Beca’s street that sold booze, and she knew there was enough change in the bowl by the front door to afford at least a couple beers.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to. Not after seeing that tiny blob on that screen and listening to its heartbeat, because the biggest part of her wanted this. She knew it deep down, but she couldn’t silence those same voices that had been making her life hell for the past four years, telling her that she was bound to fail at this like she did with everything else.

Chloe woke up that Saturday morning to a churning stomach. Scrambling out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom across the hall and made it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the ceramic bowl.

She slumped back against the wall afterwards, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she reached out to flush the toilet with the other. Chloe glanced up when Beca appeared around the corner, a sympathetic smile curving her lips as she stepped closer and handed Chloe a steaming mug.

“Ginger tea. I read it helps with morning sickness.”

Chloe accepted it with a quiet thank you. She cradled the mug between her palms, her head tilting back against the tile behind her as she exhaled. “You can sit, if you want.”

Beca nodded and lowered herself next to her in the tight space, their thighs and shoulders touching. “Do you… want to talk?”

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath. “I feel… lost,” she croaked out, her head rolling to the side to look at Beca. “Before the appointment, I was so sure terminating the pregnancy was the wise option, but then I saw it on that screen and heard its heartbeat and…”

“You realized the wise decision is maybe not what you want?” Beca supplied when Chloe trailed off.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” Chloe whispered before she broke eye-contact, focusing on the mug she held in her hands as she blinked away the tears filling her eyes. “But it’s crazy to even consider it, right? I don’t have a job, I don’t have my own place, and I’m still battling with my own mind because I crave something. All day, every day since my last hit.”

“But you didn’t cave,” Beca pointed out softly. “I know it’s only been four days since you got out of rehab, but you didn’t cave, and that’s already an accomplishment of its own.”

“I just… I don’t want to harm this baby more than I’ve possibly already done,” Chloe admitted quietly.

Beca nodded, and reached out to take one of Chloe’s hands, tugging it into her lap gently. “If keeping this baby is what you want to do, those things you’re worried about have solutions. You may not have a place of your own, but I’m not kicking you out. Even with a baby. This is home for you as long as you want or need it. A job shouldn’t be too difficult to find. Maybe it won’t be the greatest one on earth to start with, but it will be something to get your head back in the game,” she paused, tilting her head to the side and seeking Chloe’s gaze. “And what you just said? About not caving because of the baby? I can’t think of a better proof of your ability to be a great mom. You’re already putting that baby before your own needs, and I can’t even fathom how great and out of control those can become, and I think that’s admirable. And for what it’s worth, I think you should trust what your gut tells you. I listened to my brain instead of my heart once, and ended up making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

Chloe let Beca’s words resonate within her, basking in the temporary peace they brought her. There was no doubt about where her gut feeling lay on this.

“I feel like I’m turning your life upside down,” she whispered after a while, sniffling. “You’ve done so much for me already, I don’t want to keep abusing from your generosity, or jeopardize your relationship with Sarah.”

“You’re not abusing anything, Chlo. I promise,” Beca murmured with a squeeze to her hand. A stretch of silence settled between them, until Beca spoke again. “You still have time to think about it. Just know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll support it.”

Over the next week, Chloe found herself picturing what it would be like, caring and nurturing for that baby and raising them. For the first time in five years, cocaine wasn’t the first thing she thought about when she woke up, or the last thing on her mind before going to sleep.

For the first time in five years, it felt like she had purpose, in trying her best to be the mom her child deserved. That meant staying clean, leaving those demons behind where they belonged, and getting her life back together one day at a time, for that innocent being that came to light in the darkest time of her life.

She woke up earlier than usual that morning, and headed to the bathroom to pee, pausing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. A soft gasp escaped as she lifted her shirt and ran her palm over the barely perceptible swell in her lower belly. It wasn’t there yesterday, and Chloe felt tears pool in her eyes.

Happy ones.

“Hey there, little one,” she croaked out, her heart swelling against her ribcage as she rubbed slow circles over her skin. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

She puffed out a long breath, a watery smile breaking through.

One day at a time.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #chloe beale #beca mitchell

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whisperitoutloud · 2 years

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This article got me out of my latest and worst binge episode, so I figured it’s worth a share. It breaks down how to argue with the compulsive urge to eat that hits you and convinces you that this one snack, or this one time, is okay. And destroys the theory that binging is emotion driven, or that it’s your childhood trauma. Which I’d always believed and thought there was no way for me to fight back. What a life saving 5 minute read! For my fked up kind, at least…

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/never-binge-again/201901/how-stop-binge-eating-in-three-unusual-steps?amp

If I said I could show you how to permanently stop binge eating and overeating today if you wanted to, would you think I was crazy? Many people would, especially if they've been struggling for a lifetime. Some even report feeling compelled to binge, as if someone were pointing a gun at their head saying "keep eating or I'll shoot!" Others feel they 'need' their junk, not so much for pleasure, but just to feel normal.

I know this pain all too well...

Not only from my 27 years of experience as a psychologist, author of a popular weight loss book, and a consultant to the food industry—but from personal history as well. I'll spare you the full story, but let's just say there’s probably nothing you've done with food I haven't done myself...

Eating out of the garbage...

Stealing my roommate's food without telling him...

Driving to multiple fast food restaurants just so no one person would know how much I was eating...

Eating off the floor...

And repeatedly stuffing myself way past the point of physical pain.

This went on for almost thirty years while I tried to fix my problem from the vantage point of a psychologist. "Must not be what I'm eating but what's eating me", I thought. But this was NOT the case, and this paradigm really slowed down my efforts to fix the problem.

There's an abundance of misinformation and misunderstanding which prevents the majority of our population from losing weight for good. You need to confront this head on if you don't want to be one of them. Let's go through the myths one by one:

MYTH: "It's not what you’re eating, it's the emotions eating you!"

TRUTH: It’s actually a part of your brain that isn’t primarily responsible for emotions that’s doing the damage!

It's common to assume people overeat primarily for emotional reasons. The idea is that we're looking for "comfort food" to escape painful emotional states and fill the empty hole in our hearts. From this idea stems the notion we must first nurture our "inner wounded child" back to health if we ever hope to lose weight for good...

But there’s a big problem with this idea: The reptilian brain is very involved in food addiction, and the reptilian brain does not know love. Instead, when it evaluates something new in the environment it thinks "Do I eat it? Do I mate with it? Or do I kill it?" Love seems to exist much more in the higher, more recently evolved parts of the brain—the parts you think of as "You." So do spirituality, music, art, friendship, work, and all your long term goals like diet and exercise.

We think a large part of what happens when you "lose control" or change your mind about your diet in the face of a tempting treat is that survival mechanisms in the reptilian brain have been mistakenly activated and misdirected towards the treat. This is why people feel like all their best laid plans go out the window at the moment of temptation. Those plans are in their higher brain, but the reptilian brain is taking over.

MYTH: If we can’t control ourselves around food, we don’t have willpower!

TRUTH: There are EXTREMELY powerful economic-persuasion systems that are set up to get us to binge and overeat. These systems are so successful that almost 70% of the population in the United States are overweight and almost 40% are OBESE!

The food industry spends billions of dollars engineering food-like substances to target our lizard-brain with hyper-palatable concentrations of sugar, starch, fat, oil, salt, and excitotoxins which hit our bliss point without giving us the nutrition to feel satisfied. Then the advertising industry spends billions convincing us we need these things to survive (both physically and mentally). Of the 5,000+/yr food advertising messages beamed at us through the internet and airwaves only a handful are about eating more fruits and vegetables. And many of these are targeted at us from the time we are small children!

For example, psychologists Millner and Olds wired an electrode directly into rats' brains and allowed them to activate it by pressing a lever. In experiment after experiment rats pressed the lever thousands of times per day. Starving rats ignored their food. Nursing mother rats abandoned their pups. Rats would crawl over painful electrical grids to press the lever. One could argue their survival drive was hijacked by the chance to obtain this artificial pleasure.

Now, I'm not saying anyone is putting electrodes in our brains. At least not physical ones - chemical electrodes are another story. That's not stretching the truth too far, I think, when in most cities today you can walk out of one fast food joint and see another one directly across the street! It's no wonder so many people insist they no longer like fruits and vegetables. Their survival drives have been hijacked by the artificial pleasure buttons the food industry has to offer.

The point of all this is, our reptilian brains are under attack by enormous forces, and while this part of us doesn’t know love, it does have access to our fight or flight mechanism, which can convince us we need these things as a matter of survival.

In my own experience, as well as thousands of readers and clients I've helped, the best way to deal with this is more a game of unflinching domination than one of loving yourself. When an alpha wolf is challenged for leadership by another member of the pack it doesn't look at that member and say "Gee, I think someone needs a hug!" Instead, it bares its teeth and snarls aggressively as if to say "Look, I'm the boss here. Get back in line or I'll hurt you!"

It's like that.

Now, don't get me wrong. There is definitely an association between food and emotion, but emotions do not "make" you overeat. Mammals in the studies above over-stimulated themselves with artificial pleasure regardless of whether they were stressed, and people overeat when they're happy as well as when they’re angry, sad, lonely, tired, anxious, or depressed. It seems the engineered intensity of pleasure available for minimum effort can bypass all these feelings.

MYTH: Guidelines are Better Than Rules. Eat Well 90% of the Time, Indulge Yourself 10%

TRUTH: Guidelines wear down your willpower by requiring constant decision making. Consider well-thought-through rules for your most troublesome trigger foods and/or eating behaviors.

As discussed in my previous post, guidelines wear down your willpower by forcing constant decision making. Every time you’re in front of a chocolate bar at Starbucks you have to ask yourself "Is this part of the 90% or part of the 10%." Rules, on the other hand, preserve willpower by eliminating decisions. Decision making has been consistently shown to deplete willpower in studies. Better to use a rule like "I'll only ever eat chocolate on the last weekend of each calendar month" because it eliminates your chocolate decisions most of the time!

MYTH: Avoid tempting food and environments.

TRUTH: Cultivate confidence, not fear.

Sometimes overeaters are told to avoid fast food restaurants, birthday parties, etc. Many believe they need a separate pantry and/or shelf of the refrigerator where other people’s tempting treats are kept. Sometimes they even ask their spouses and children to keep tempting treats in a locked drawer. The underlying belief behind this idea is that external temptation is the problem.

While there's no reason to hang out in a bakery all day if you’re trying to lose weight, and while some people might find it helpful to avoid temptation as a kind of "training wheels" exercise to get started, I find it's much better to cultivate confidence vs. fear. I have good reasons to hang out in Starbucks. Yes, there are many tempting treats on the counter...but my friends go there. Sometimes I like to just sit there and read or do a little work. So I define clear rules for myself regarding those treats and confidently follow them while I enjoy the rest of what the environment has to offer. You can't avoid temptation without seriously shrinking your life.

STEP TWO: Make At Least One Clear Food Rule.

What's your single most troublesome trigger food or eating behavior? For example, if you tend to overeat in front of the television you might make the rule "Except for Saturdays I'll never eat while watching television again." Or perhaps you reliably have healthy days when you drink pure water in the morning so you say "I will always drink 16 oz of pure spring water before I eat anything in the A.M." Or maybe you just eat too quickly without really experiencing your food. In this case you can say "I'll always put my fork down between bites."

Any rule you create is fine—as long as it doesn’t restrict your overall calories and nutrition too much—and provided the rule is crystal clear, such that if ten people followed you around all week they'd all 100% agree whether you followed it.

Also, you can change your rule(s) whenever you want, provided you take at least a half hour for written reflection and are clear why you want to make the change, and allow at least 24 hours before the change takes effect.

Last, it's very important to note that despite the fact we can change the rules, we write them as if they were set in stone. It's kind of like telling a two year old they can never ever cross the street without holding your hand, even though you know you're going to teach them to look both ways when they're older. You say "never" because you know they're not anywhere near mature enough to even entertain this dangerous idea. Similarly, you can say "never" to your reptilian brain, even though you know you might change the rules later on. Turns out our reptilian brains act like two year olds around tempting foods!

STEP THREE: Separate Your Constructive vs. Destructive Thoughts About Food

OK, now here’s the weird part. The last and most powerful part of this strange method involves deciding that all your destructive, impulsive food thoughts no longer belong to you. Instead, they belong to a kind of inner enemy associated with your reptilian brain. (You can call it your "Food Monster" or "Binge Lizard" or anything else that’s not a cuddly pet.)

Then, come up with a name for your Food Demon's voice. For example, my Food Demon doesn't talk, it Squeals. Any thought, feeling, or impulse which suggests you will ever break your rule again is that voice, which you will learn to recognize and ignore.

Finally, come up with a crude name for everything your inner enemy craves. For example, my Demon Squeals for Demon Slop.

The idea is to help you more easily recognize and ignore the inner voice which has to this point been responsible for all your bad choices around food.

Let's illustrate in a little more detail so you can see how this works. Suppose I have a rule which says I never eat chocolate on anything other than the last Saturday and Sunday of the month. Then, when I'm standing on line at Starbucks and there’s a chocolate bar calling to me at the counter, I become aware of a thought like "Gee Glenn, you worked out really hard this morning so you can definitely afford a few bites." Or "Hey Glenn, chocolate is made from cocoa beans, and those grow on a plant, therefore chocolate is a vegetable." At that point I'd say to myself "I don’t want that, my Food Demon does. It's Squealing for Demon Slop. I never eat Demon Slop!"

And that’s it.

As crazy as it sounds, this very crude, very primitive technique can give you the extra microseconds you need at the moment of impulse to wake and remember who you are and why you made the rules in the first place. It’s not a miracle, and most people have to experiment with a variety of rules and behaviors before everything really comes together for them...but it really can quickly restore your sense of power and agency with food, especially if you’ve been struggling for a long time.

"I don’t eat Demon Slop and I don’t let my lizard brain tell me what to do!"

Try it. What have you got to lose? After all, what if I’m right?

How to Stop Binge Eating at Night

Night time overeating is a very common problem, and it's often the last one people solve as they are recovering from binge eating, but it doesn't have to be as difficult as it feels. The most important thing to do first is identify the cause. Which of the following might apply to you?

Over-restricting during the day: More often than not I find people who struggle with binge eating at night tend to have had too little to eat during the day. Perhaps they are trying to stick to a diet that's is too rigid, or which causes them to lose weight too quickly. When that's the case, the brain often fires the "be less discriminating with food and feast" at nighttime, when willpower is lowest.

Not enough self-care during the day: Just as over-restricting calories during the day can cause the brain to rebound with a feast response at night, so too can too little self care. In particular, subjecting yourself to constant pressure and decision making without enough input-and-decision-free breaks can wear down your willpower too. There are only so many good decisions you can make in a day. If this is you, try to add another two five minute breaks completely away from other people, electronic devices, and the necessity to respond and/or make any decisions. It can make a big difference. So too can a short period of meditation, and journaling or free-writing.

Not enough sleep: Paradoxically, night time eating can be exacerbated by not getting enough sleep. And of course, eating at night can interrupt your sleep too, creating a downward cycling snowball. Pay a little more attention to your sleep patterns, consider going to bed at a standard time, make the bed for sleep only, consider talking to your doctor about supplements and medications, etc.

If you struggle with night time overeating, you might also want to try making your night time food decisions in the morning. Plan out your evening meal and be sure it's substantial enough for you to look forward to, then prepare it and leave it in some Tupperware or a plate, so you'll know all day that it's just sitting there waiting for you to eat. You might even consider taking a picture of it and carrying it around on your smart phone all day, glancing at it a few times on breaks to remind you what's waiting at home.

How to Stop Binge Eating After Work

To stop binge eating after work, you must do similarly to the instructions above to stop overeating at night. The only difference is, most people who complain of overeating after work are talking about stopping at fast food establishments on the way home and binge eating in their cars.

To overcome this, prepare something substantial for yourself in the morning and take it with you to work, all sealed up in Tupperware. If it's cool enough outside that you can leave it in the car, leave it on the driver's seat so it's the first thing you'll see when you get back in the car, otherwise put it in the refrigerator at your job. Then, take a different route home for the next thirty days. It should be one that doesn't require you to pass all your old haunts. You should be fine to go back to your standard route soon, but protect your new habit by creating a cocoon in which it can develop.

If it's impractical to take a different route home, or you're unable to find the time and energy to prepare food for yourself to take with you in the morning, you can still implement the above method by stopping at a different restaurant and establishing a new routine there. For example, if your overeating after work routine habitually takes you to McDonalds where you get a cheeseburger and fries, you might consider going to Wendy's and getting a baked potato with nothing on it, and a salad with the dressing on the side. (Any different restaurant which serves healthy options will do. We are just trying to break the routine.)

How to Stop Binge Eating Sweets

You can very effectively use the standard method described in the video and text above to stop binge eating sweets. The key, I find, is in how you define what a sweet actually is. See, your Food Demon (reptilian brain) is always hard at work looking for loopholes in your food rules. So if you say something like "I will never eat sweets on a weekday again", it will immediately say something like "Honey doesn't count, right? What about muffins? They aren't technically just a sweet. Oooooh, what about mounds of ketchup on french fries? The sugar in that doesn't count either, right!?"

The solution to this is to define exactly what "sweets" means inclusively rather than exclusively. In the above example, I'd ask a client to fill in the sentence "The only sweet tastes I will ever consume on a weekday again are (fill in the blank)." For me personally, the only sweet tastes I include in my diet are whole fruit and berries. For other people it's whole fruit, berries, stevia, ketchup, and any sauce which is primarily intended to be savory vs. sweet.

You don't have to limit the list to any specific number, but you do need to be very specific about what's on the list. Then, you assume everything else is off limits and your Food Demon can't argue.

How to Stop Binge Eating Sugar

You can stop binge eating sugar in the same way you stop binge eating sweets above. It's necessary to be very specific about what sugar actually is, and what sweet tastes you will include in your diet.

In the case of sugar in particular, if you still wish to allow processed foods in your diet, you may wish to define where a sweetener must appear on the label in order to qualify as sugar. For example, many of my clients don't consider a food to have "sugar" in it if there are no sweeteners at the 4th position or above on the label.

How to Stop Binge Eating When Stressed

It's an odd thing, when you think about it, that we would even entertain binge eating when stressed, because we know recovering from the digestive bloat and self-loathing which occurs after we overeat will make us feel more stressed. I tell my clients "If you have six problems and you overeat, you'll have seven problems." Moreover, the time and energy it takes to recover is time and energy which could've been used to solve the problems we felt stressed about in the first place! "If you're in a hole, stop digging." Overeating causes stress, it doesn't fix it.

To stop binge eating when you're stressed it can be helpful to think of two things. First, research the physiological effects of the food you gravitate towards overeating. For example, if you love sugar, it might be helpful to know that the average sugar high lasts only 18 to 36 minutes. Thereafter your blood sugar will have been destabilized, and it will take hours for you to recover. In the meantime you'll have low energy and quite possibly depression, anxiety, and/or jitters. Or, if you love salt, you might wish to know that excess sodium can be associated with hemorrhagic strokes even in the absence of high blood pressure.

It's also helpful to remember we do not just overeat for "comfort." See, most of us aren't binging on whole, natural foods. Instead, we turn to some sort of industrially concentrated form of sugar, starch, salt, fat, oil, or excitotoxins. These are supersized doses of pleasure things which didn't exist in the tropics while we were evolving. A better word for them might be "drugs." What we are actually doing when we overeat things we know aren't good for us is "getting high with food."

Knowing that helps many people to think twice about overeating when they're stressed because they don't want to think of themselves as abusing drugs. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but there's at least some truth to it, and I find when clients can tell themselves "Wait a minute, I'm about to get high with food again" in the moment of temptation, they can often stop and make a healthier choice.

How to Stop Binge Eating Forever

The key to stop binge eating forever is in the recognition of the fact that you can only ever eat now. Now is the only moment you can use your hands, arms, legs, mouth and tongue to put food in your mouth. Now is the only moment you can choose to chew and swallow anything.

Your Food Demon will tell you that you simply cannot maintain your food rules forever, but this ignores the fact that forever is an infinite string of now moments. For example, as you are reading these words, you don't know what the next ones are going to be. All you know is that now you are reading, and as you process each successive word on the page, you realize it is still now. It is, isn't it?

It would be silly for me to tell you that you couldn't ever hope to read this whole article because it's way too long, because you know that if you only keep focusing on the passing words as you encounter them now, eventually the article will be done. A good reader doesn't even entertain the thought that they couldn't read the whole thing, because if they did, that would distract them from integrating the meaning and significance of the words as they read them. In order to concentrate on reading, the reader must remain focused in the present moment, and in so doing can read even the longest book.

That's how this works. You focus on eating healthy and following your food rules now, and ignore the Food Demon's attempts to distract you. That way all your energy can remain targeted at the goal. You can only ever use the present moment to eat healthy, so if you always use the present moment to do so, you will always eat healthy. Forever!

#e 🦋

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kombatea · 4 years

Text

Only Mine / Sub-Zero

Warning: 18+!

Note: Based on request. Gifs are not mine. If you are/know the author, contact me for proper credit.

***

„Maybe today.“ you say while you are sitting in front of your vanity brushing your hair.

„Honey... I know that you like him but he... Well, let´s say that he´s a busy man and have no time for anything serious.“ Says your friend bringing you back on earth from the dreaming clouds. „If he´s that busy then he doesn´t need more than one concubine.“ you argument while applying a light red tint on your lips that Kuai likes on you. „You´re using logic... Man thinks with their dicks not with that brain.“ You chuckle but you know that he is different. Sometimes doubt creeps on you in the worst timing. You want to be smart and not open your heart. He chose you as his mistress, not his girlfriend and you are aware of that. Everything changed when the rumor about another woman started to spread around the temple. No, that´s not Kuai that I know. „I will ask him. I want to know clearly where I am at. There is no way that I will share.“ „What´s that? Is that... Jealousy?“ she laughs. „I mean everybody knows that he is all in one but to fall for a guy that wants you only for sex? Isn´t that a little bit cliche? Romantic dinners and sex for the rest of the night. There is probably not one other guy left that will show you that you are only his secret mistress. He even said it right into your face!“ „I thought you are my friend.“ you say as you are checking your outfit in the mirror. „I´m not. I am your BEST friend and sister too. It´s my duty to tell you everything like it is.“ she stands up and hugs you from behind. „You deserve much better. Wasn´t there enough heartache for you? End it.“ „Give me one night.“ you turn around and look her in the eyes. „I want to hear his side of the story and then I will do what has to be done.“ „Aren´t you the prototype of the hopeless romantic?“ she sighs and rolls her eyes as she grabs her purse. She doesn´t want to be home when he will come. „No awkward small talk in the kitchen after you two had sex for me.“ as she likes to say after that one unfortunate incident. You think you are ready for the evening with Kuai. You´ve done this so many times. But tonight is something off. You try to figure it out but the knocking on the door interrupts you. Your heart starts to pound like crazy and your hands are shaking. „Good evening Y/N“ smiles Kuai as you let him in. „I thought that I would bring you something.“ You step aside as he uncovers a huge bouquet hiding behind his back. „Those are...“ you gasp. „Peonies, your favorite “ he smiles even brighter. „They are stunning, thank you so much!“ „Just like you.“ he chuckles right after he said it and frowns. „I´m sorry. I am just trying to be nice and it always ends up sounding so cheesy.“. He kisses you on the cheek as he handles you the heavy bouquet. „But it´s true.“ „I don't mind your cheesy compliments.“ you smile and breathe in the flowery scent that filled your whole hallway. „Make yourself comfortable while I will try to find a vase that will be big enough for these beauties.“ When you come back from the kitchen, you find him in the living room. He sits in your reading armchair in the corner. „I´m so ready for dinner. I thought that they´re booked out for the rest of the year.“ you think out loud. „Let me take my trenchcoat and I´m ready to go.“ You are tying up your wrap dress when you realize that he is silently staring at you the whole time. Comfortably reclined and legs wide open. Watching every single move of yours without any specific expression. You know what he´s thinking about. Your body and how he will play with it later. He´s focused and caught in his imagination. Probably doesn´t hear a word you just said. „Come to me, please“ he suddenly ends his silence. You quietly come to him. Kuai puts his cold arms on your hips and starts to caress them. Then he takes your hands in his placing kisses all over them. „You always smell so good.“ he whispers as his hands trace from the back of your knees right under your dress. „This ass... Why are you so irresistible?“ You push him deeper in the armchair and sit in his lap. Kissing his neck exactly how he likes it. How he told you he likes it on the first night you spent together. You just brought it on another level that makes him crazy. He knows what he wants. But you know it even better. As you start to undress him he stands up. „I´m so happy to have you just for myself.“ he whispers while kissing you everywhere from the face to the collarbone. „Kuai.“ you moan. „While we are at that... Can I ask you something?“ „Of course. Anything.“ he answers into your skin busy with your breasts. „There was this rumor... About you and other women.“ „Y/N...“ he stops and sighs as he sits down on the couch. „If it´s about that childish joke how I have a harem of women...“ „What?!“ you say shocked without thinking. „Kids are bored. Can´t train, can´t go anywhere...“ „So it´s their fault that you fuck everything that moves?“ you are unable to think clearly. Jealousy is tearing you from inside out. „SO they are joking around because they see how I leave every weekend just to spend some time with you.“ „And with other women.“ you quickly add. „You are being unreasonable.“ Kuai says as he looks at you. „Tell me exactly what´s the problem.“ He reaches for you but you push him away. „You are jealous.“ he realizes after a moment. You regret everything when he says it out loud. „Kuai..“ you want to defend yourself but it´s too late as he pins you down to the couch. „Y/N you know that you have no right to control my life.“ he looks you in the eyes. He´s right in your face. „Yes. Yes of course. I am sorry...“ you stagger. „I didn´t want to...“ „Are you scared?“ he frowns. „No... I mean... Maybe a little.“ „Please, don´t be. I didn´t mean to scare you.“ he offers you his hand. „I´m just shocked that you don´t trust me. I thought you know that we are... That you are the only woman that I care about. There´s no space for another one in my... bed.“ He sits down looking betrayed. „Is this some kind of show to make me feel worse? Because I don´t want to play any games.“ „Please, stop it. I don´t want you to be mad. Allow me to cool your anger.“ „Don´t use this on me. I am not one of your students. I will not obey you. Not anymore.“ „Y/N! Stop it. Right now.“ he looks at you with surprise. „Or what? I didn´t sign for this just to be one of many. If you want to fuck me whenever you feel like... Am I not enough?!“ You say it louder than you anticipated. He jumps out from the couch and grabs you by your neck. You are shocked but also without any worry. You know that he wouldn´t hurt you no matter what. „Stop with this nonsense and let me show you who I want to fuck.“ he growls as he grabs you by your arm and drags you into your bedroom. He shoves you on your bed face down and rolls up your dress just enough to see your lower back. He places kisses on your spine as he takes off your panties. One finger in your pussy while his thumb is playing with your ass. You moan as he proceeds to insert another finger in you and pleasures you with the faster movement. „You are dripping wet.“ He smiles satisfied. „Just for you.“ you moan when he quickly pulls fingers out from you and spank you while his other hand is holding you on the back of your neck. „Oh god, yes! Harder!“ you beg for more because Kuai knows exactly how rough he can go to cause you pain and pleasure at the same time. But the second you said it he stops and leans to your ear as close as possible. „What did you say?“ he growls. „Say it again.“ „I want it hard... harder, please.“ He places a long and cold kiss on your temple as he doesn´t need to hear more. First slap, second slap within a second. He doesn´t mess around as he continues. It takes him just a moment to make your ass hurt. You feel stinging pain on every inch of your skin that he spanked. Kuai´s grip on your neck tightens. You know that he is getting eager. He lets you take a break while he gets undressed. „Don´t go away from me.“ he smiles and pulls you back to him by your hips as you try to get up. Without waiting for your reaction he carefully pushes his tip in your cunt fucking you just to stretch you out a little. You aren´t a master of control as he is so you impatiently push closer to his pelvis. You both moan with pure pleasure. You can finally feel his whole cock in you and it´s so addictive. There´s no way that you will get enough. Ever. Kuai´s fingers get deeper in the skin of your hips as he fucks you slow and deep with the full length of his impressive cock. „What are you doing to me?“ you whine. „Tell me you don´t like it.“ „I love it!“ you smile with pure pleasure. „Let me sit on that dick, please.“ It takes you just seconds to sit in his lap riding him in the circulate motion while he´s holding you tight moaning into your shoulder. Your hands wrapped around his neck. As his body starts to shake a little you know that he is close. But you will not give it to him so easily and starts to bounce up and down in the intermittent cycles. Quick, slow, quick, and slow. Frustrated by the inconsistent pleasure he impatiently lay you down on the bed without leaving your cunt and starts to fuck you fast and hard with his forehead pressed against yours. „Are you ready?“ he moans „I need to cum.“ „Yes... Yes... Cum for me.“ you whisper. He growls with pure pleasure and you gasp for the air as the fingers on your toes curl with the intense satisfaction. His cum is surprisingly hot for such a cold guy. You have to ask him about it. How it´s even possible. But obviously not now because you are busy with feeling drained and pleased at the same time. His dick is moving slowly in and out causing his cum to drip down your ass. For a small moment, he totally loosens up letting you feel his whole body weight on yours. He quickly rolls over with you in his embrace as you gasp for the air one more time under the pressure. You rest on his chest without any movement for a while listening to his slowing heartbeat. After some time he lays you down on your pillow just to quietly stand up and open the window to let the fresh night air in. You don´t even realize that he disappeared until he came back with the glass of water that he puts on your nightstand next to you. Then he lays down to you and covers you with the blanket. He kisses your neck while spooning you from the back. You take his hand in yours as he protectively puts his arm around you. „I want you to be mine. Only mine.“ You whisper on the edge of falling asleep. „Then we have the same goal.“

#mk #Mortal Kombat #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #Kuai Liang #kuai liang x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader #fanfiction #kombateafanfiction

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biotchthatmeows · 3 years

Text

#tw #suicideawarness #triggering #depression #suicide #substanceabuse

Ah! So suicide awareness month eh. Well I don't know where to burst out exactly because people don't really care about it but ok let's try it here at good ol' Tumblr.

So, where I live we don't have any suicide helpline or any awareness programs or anything at all regarding mental health. I mean don't get me wrong we would adapt western media full fledge when it's Valentine's Day or some other ridiculous thing but no one wants to talk about suicide because it doesn't bring trp and people are already sad and I agree it's true.

But we gotta talk about suicide, man, come on. I am sorry but at least I think I should.

I have never really openly said it but I have given hints many times. But I am openly saying it that I suffer from very severe depression and anxiety plus Bipolar personality disorder. Which means I am either going through maniac episode or depressive episode almost everyday (you can Google them).

And yes, I have tried to kill myself multiple times. And turns out like most things in my life I am not really good at it. Since, I am writing this. Which is why whoever is reading this, I am taking your time (thanks btw).

I was always a little different since my childhood as compared to others. I liked being alone a lot and writing things instead of talking to a person. Because whenever I tried to make a friend I would do something wrong and they go away. So, at one point I stopped trying and I realized something that people around me dont really like me.

Even my teachers kind of didn't like me because I would just randomly ask the most peculiar questions. For example when we were reading *book spoiler* George Orwell's 1984, everyone in the class was worried for the hero when he was being tortured but I asked or told my teacher that 'okay so, his fear for the mouse was bigger than the love for the girl and it okay to betray her?' and everyone was like that was not the point. I am sorry, I got districted and I am sure most people wouldn't get the reference.

Anyway, my point is that I always had and have questions about things when people should keep their mouth shut. At least one shouldn't questioned these things.

But that is still the thing with me, when you or someone makes a prominent statement there should be a reason or at least an explanation behind it but I was called blasphemous for questioning them. And that was fine with me but calling me blasphemous didn't get you out of the position of not able to justify your statement.

So, throughout my life I was called many things, spoiled, brat, weird, drama queen, actress, attention seeker. I can go on and on.

I don't know about rest of the names but I am pretty sure I wasn't spoiled. My parents were never the type to hand over the money because you asked for it. They were kind of people who wouldn't even give you money even when you actually need and beg for it. They would give you the thing instead that you need the money for or you don't get it at all for example school picnics and events or the bag you really really wanted.

So, well when you don't get things. You eventually start doing bad things such lying a lot and stealing stuff. And it keeps growing and growing and even though deep down you know how wrong you are but then you don't know how to stop because you are getting things you want.

Okay, off the topic again. What I am trying to say that I was maybe lot of things that people said but I wasn't spoiled. I was physically abused and eventually realize mentally abused too. And things weren't really okay with me. I won't take it like most people do.

My brain wouldn't stop thinking about them and I was becoming more and more irrational as days goes by. And I was thinking what if I was dead and that would make things lot more easier for me and the people around me.

Eventually, that idea became more and more intense and growing around I always heard people say that if a person kills themself they would never be forgiven and it was the greatest sin ever.

But then those people would also say that not praying is the greatest sin and you won't be forgiven for that ever.

And then not believing in one God is also the biggest is of all sin and you won't be forgiven for that ever.

And then saying hurtful things to people is also the biggest sin and you won't forgiven until that person forgives you.

So, which one was the biggest sin? All of them? Because then those same people would say that God would forgive you for all your sins if you repent and because God is most forgiving. Even more forgiving then your own mother.

So, my curious brain once again started asking questions. For which again I was told that I shouldn't because it was wrong and blasphemy.

Meanwhile, my mental health was decling day after day but no one really noticed because in our society their is no such thing as mental health. Either you are crazy or lazy, hey that rhymes.

I was pretty much deemed both.

Mostly, lazy but then there is a solution for that in our society for as well. Get married! Tada! Because when you are married it fixes everything! And anything.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that I obviously despiced the marriage thing. Because I knew I couldn't do it.

Someone who can barely keep themself put together, cannot handle the responsibility of the marriage and of course I wasn't interested in anyone. I mean of course I had crushes and stuff but unlike most girls/women my age I never went as far as thinking about marriage all the time. Which was happening at that time all around me.

People were keen to get married or getting married.

And I don't know why people thought it's about time I should get married too and everytime the situation like that came along I would have the worst kind of panic attacks. I couldn't eat or drink or sleep and I had to fight and fight to make the situation go away.

But you can't win every time now, can you? Eventually, I was forced into getting engaged and I can't explain how horrible each second for me during that time was. But once got lucky enough get out of it and it was happiest day of entire life. Well just for me of course. Everyone around me was pretty bumped but I was selfish because I got out of it.

And the worst part of the whole thing that bugged me was that guy was honestly horrible. He called me fat and then his family came around to inspect me like a cattle because my family told them I wasn't fat. What a wonderful thing to your child. Really helped my self esteem.

He couldn't even spell aunty right. Yeah he wrote 'unty' and apparently his parents bragged he went and study in Australia. So, if Australians wrote aunty like that, then I suppose I was being a little judgy.

Anyhow, I was so relieved. It was like I could breathe again. But obviously it wasn't the end of it.

Things like that don't don't just end for people in our society. Situations like that kept happening and my parents was getting desperate at this point because duh! I was growing old and who would marry an old girl even when like they 10 years older her.

During the period of my engagement my mental health was at its worse and it was getting worse everyday. I was constantly having panic attacks and one day out pity I was finally taken to the doctor not a psychologist or psychiatrist but just a normal doctor.

Lucky for me that guy prescribed a magical pill which fixed everything, for a while and I loved it. The minute I would take that pill everything would become normal. I would even stopped caring about the engagement thing till that pill lasted.

I didn't know at first what it was but then I figured it out and I would go out buy shit ton of them because it fixed things for a while.

In short I was addicted to vallium and then I found out there are other pills like that such as Xanax and plenty of other and as long as I had money no one cared who they selling these pills too and it wasn't like I was buying them from some shady person. I was actually buying them from legit pharmaceutical shops.

So, whenever situations like those came around or at that any other point I faced problems I would take those pills but then I realized that eventually that they stopped working so I increased the doses for them to work and the doses increased and increased. At one point I was taking a box each day just for a moment of calm. And years went by and so did the amount of pills I was literally throwing my whole month of salary on them.

Then my family finally noticed that something was off because I never had money and I wasn't exactly

buying anything so where was the money going? Also I was sleeping a lot and starting to forget things which was pretty out character for me.

I was confronted and given an ultimatum. So, for a week or more I think I didn't take any pills but then I was taking them for years now and you are not supposed to suddenly stop them. But I didn't know that at that time.

And that was my first attempt to kill myself. But then things happen, bad things, and they kept happening and happening. Finally came a point where no one was to stop me from taking pills or trying to kill myself.

By then I had committed multiple attempts to kill myself. I was self harming long before that but after that it had gotten much worse. And my last attempt was this year but instead of dying I went into a seizure which lasted 48 hours and even after that I wasn't able move my tounge properly and certain part of my body for a month.

That was the first time I was scared of suicide. Because I was not able to do anything on my own. I bit tounge so hard that it bled and broke a teeth. It worse than dying.

I was finally taken to the hospital and a real psychiatrist who finally diagnosed me with my illness.

Yet still, some people think I make things up because I did them in the past but that shit was real and anyone who say I act crazy to get attention, then I swear to you that you wouldn't wish that condition on your worst enemy.

Talking about all this wasn't to let my heart out or anything. I just want to tell you and anyone who understands to realise that mental illness is very very real and it's a nightmare that doesn't go away. That only problem it is not visible like other diseases. It's just like having a cancer but imagine you can't see that cancer.

And being suicidal is not a joke, no one wants to end their lives on purpose. Everyone wants to live.

But just think for a moment from prespective of the person that their brain had been through enough that it thought that life is not worth living anymore. And if it's a sin then they are ready to go to hell because imagine life being worse than hell.

I know this is already a really long post but I needed to bring this up because recently I was having conversation with colleagues about what we should about suicide awareness month and I was like maybe make post to empathize with people who go through this horrible rough path but my colleagues suggested that they should put this religious script which says that anyone commits suicide will never be forgiven and will forever be in hell.

And this was coming from the person who doesn't pray at all. I was like what about you? I wasn't judging him. I was like so you won't go to hell and be there forever?

And he was like I will be forgiven but people who commits suicide they will not be. And he was so confident that he even said that you will see on the day of judgment that people who didn't pray will be eventually forgiven but there is no way for people who had committed suicide to be forgiven.

And I was like okay, wow! Because there is literally no point with arguing or trying to make people like them understand because they won't. And I know many, actually forget many but most people would agree with him. Because they don't even accept mental illness as illness at all and if you are sad/depressed you must not be praying or need to pray more.

But, I pray for those ignorants who make fun of mental illness and suicide and call it attention seekers or actors when it is desperate cry for help.

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xserpentlife · 4 years

Text

Problems

Requested: Anon - may I request a sweet pea x reader where the reader is a good girl north sider and has to tutor him and at first he finds her annoying but the more they spend time together he ends up falling for her (maybe they could have a moment where they talk about their life's and her life isn't as perfect as she leads on)

A/N: here’s a fic for y’all. Hope you enjoy it. I may do a drabble because I have a feeling @wayward-river my beta is going to request one haha

Warnings: Talk of drug addict parents

Word Count: About 1840

You were about to leave class when the teacher called you and Sweet Pea up to his desk. You were told to stay behind as the rest of the students left and you really didn’t understand why, especially not with the southsider.

“Yes Mr. Eric”

“Ah Ms. Y/N, I need to ask a big favor of you” You looked over to see Sweet Pea looking down at his feet as he leaned against the desk

“Yes?”

“You see I’m the basketball coach here as well as the science teacher, and Pea here is not doing very good in Chem like you are. I would like you to tutor him”

“Mr. Eric, I would but I don’t think that is such a good idea…”

“Ms. Y/N please, I’ll even throw in a few extra credit points for you, and I’ll be able to add this to your letter of recommendation”

“Okay… I’ll help

“Thank you, please once you both leave, make a plan to meet up as soon as possible” You turned picking up your books and leaving the room, waiting outside the door for Sweet Pea.

“Sorry I’m such an inconvenience for you, I know you don’t want to be seen around with a Southsider”

“That isn’t what I said…”

“Doesn’t matter”

“Whatever Sweet Pea, meet me in the library tomorrow right after school”

“Fine” He walked off without another word, You really didn’t know Sweet Pea all that well. You knew he was from the southside, and you knew he was part of the Serpents, but that was about it. You had no problem with him being in the Serpents, you were just extremely busy and having to tutor him on top of it, was not helping you at all.

You went through your day as normal. You worked through the night at your bartending job in Greendale, picked up your brothers from your house, and then got to school with minutes to spare. You were dead tired. The nice northside girl that everyone knew you as was starting to slowly fade away. You got through school fairly well, completely forgetting about having to tutor Sweet Pea, until you saw him sitting in the library as you were leaving. You walked in sitting down slowly at the table.

“Sorry I was late”

“Look at that the goody Northsider wasn’t on time”

“I already apologized”

“I know…”

“Are you ready to study…?”

“I mean you're the tutor, aren't you supposed to tell me?”

“I’m really not in the mood today Sweet Pea”

“Aww what? Perfect little Northsider had a tough day?”

‘You know what... here are your study guides and guided notes, study yourself, oh and check your attitude and maybe we’ll try this again in a few days… meet me here on Thursday” You walked out after that, rushing to Pop’s because you were going to be late for your afterschool shift.

The past few days have been fine with Sweet Pea, and his tutoring sessions. He came learned and left, not many words were exchanged between the two of you.

You missed school yesterday due to the fact you had to work all day meaning you missed the study session you had planned with Sweet Pea. At School today you had to act like you weren’t tired, and act as peppy as possible because Cheryl was using you for a campaign for the school news and her presidency. You were smiles all day, forcing them upon your face. You finally gave up when you went to the library to wait for Sweet Pea. He was late, five minutes past, then ten, you lost track at twenty falling asleep at the table. You didn’t need to be here, but he needed you and you weren’t one to give up on people.

Sweet pea was about to leave the school, basketball practice ran late, but as he looked into the library he saw you asleep at the table. In the past few weeks the more he has gotten to know you the more you have grown to annoy him. Constantly badgering about his grades, assignments and everything in between. He just wanted to be a normal teenager, but living on the southside he was behind on his work and to play basketball he just couldn't be. He actually felt bad when he saw you sleeping at that table, he walked in tapping you on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry”

“Really… that’s surprising”

“Sit down so we can get started at least, I only have 20 minutes”

“You know you don’t have to be a bitch. I shouldn't even be here”

“Really because it kinda is your fault you're here, you're the one that needs to be tutored not me, so do you want the help or not?” He shuts up after that, taking the papers, and responding to your questions. The timer on your phone went off signaling you had to leave to go work your shift.

“I'll see you Wednesday after school for our session right?”

“Actually no Pea, I’m going to be at work… but uh you can come there if you need the help”

“Alright I’ll be there, we have our test the next day so I really need the extra help” He realized that he needed the help, that you were important to him, and you had become important in the few weeks he had spent with you. He didn’t mean to be rude to you, it was just the way he was raised. People never helped you for the sake of you, but only ever for the sake of themselves. He was wary of new people and at the time you were new. He realized quickly he wanted to make that up, but that didn’t make up for the fact that he was still trying to decode you, still trying to understand if you truly cared or not”

“Yeah that’ll be fine”

A few days later was your study night at Pop's. Usually, it is slower during the week so you thought you would have time, but work that night was non-stop. You watched Pea come through the door taking a seat at one of the booths. You walked over quickly.

“I’m sorry Pea I’m just slammed right now, give me a few minutes” A few minutes turned to ten and it felt like you were becoming him, that night that he left you there. You sat with him for the ten-minute break you had. You expect to be done after working another twenty after that, but Pop offered you to stay later and you had to take it, you couldn’t deny you needed the money more than anything.

Pea was getting angrier. He knew you were working, but you kept promising you would be done, and it felt like he was getting disappointed like he had a hundred times in his life. Memories flooding back of the people that left and lied. He barely knew you but he felt something with you like he hadn’t felt with a lot of people. He wanted you to keep your promises and he knew you were working, but you not helping was making him more and more upset so he got up about to leave before you walked up to him.

“I’m so sorry Sweet Pea, it’s been crazy in here…”

“Save it, I get it I’m not that important…”

“You just love being a dick huh” Pop Tate looked at you “sorry Pop Tate, we'll go outside” You drug Sweet Pea by his sleeve, Pop giving you a nod that your shift was over.

“Why do you have to be such an asshole I’m sorry I haven't been as available for you tonight, I never meant for that to happen. Usually, this is our slow night. I figured I could get two things done at once, but then Pop Tate mentioned more hours and I had to take it”

“Why? You probably don’t even have to work with your rich northside parents”

“You don’t know me at all…”

“I’m sure someone like you has loads of problems.”

“You really want to know my problems, Sweet Pea, I’ll lay it out straight for you. I come from the northside that’s true, but my parents are nobodies, no money, no jobs. Oh and you wanna know the worst part, we are broke. I’ve lived on the street, but I now pay for a small apartment for me and my brothers. My parents are nowhere to be found, they are drug addicts, probably dealers by now. I try to keep us hidden as best I can. I work three jobs. Sometimes my job in Greendale is all night and then I come to school like that day you found me sleeping when I was late. My life isn’t rainbows and unicorns Sweet Pea, and I do have to work. I need money to take care of my brothers by myself. So yeah, I’m so sorry that I chose work while I was helping you study, but I needed the money, okay, and I hate to admit it but I'm tired so fucking tired of people thinking my life is so fucking perfect” You sat down on the bench outside of Pop’s head in your hands, and you felt Sweet Pea’s weight sit beside you. He pulled you into him, you felt comfortable around him, he made you so mad but instantly you felt a wave of calmness.

“Let me help… I know people we can get you a small trailer, help you out with money, you’re basically like a single mom”

“I don’t need a payout, I'm fine on my…”

“What on your own? Y/N you’ve been doing this for so long by yourself, and I can damn well see that you are capable but I want to be there like you were there for me. I want to help you. Let me help you and we can get this all sorted out for you…

“There is no “we” Sweet Pea”

“But what if I want there to be we… I know we don’t know each other that well but in the past few weeks, I’ve fallen for you. You are so fucking annoying and naggy but it's so fucking cute and I can’t control how I feel, and I’m sorry I was such a dick at first but I was scared, but I like you…” he leaned in kissing your lips and you leaned back looking him in the eyes feeling the exact way he did.

You were sitting outside the classroom legs bouncing as you waited for him to come out the door and you saw his boots enter the hallway as he stared at you test in hand

“What did you get?!”

“I got a B+” He came towards you lifting you off your head tilting his head down and connecting your lips. Maybe tutoring the Serpent wasn’t so bad after all.

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grayhouse3 · 3 years

Text

SJTR is my villain origin story

So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper.

Originally I told myself that I was going to just stick it out and read the next one (“Oh, it’s about vampires and Dracula. It’s probably more fun. You can forget all about the pain this one inflicted on you"). No. I got 12% of the way through and had to DNF. So here are my messily compiled thoughts on the book, basically expanded from the last post. Honestly, kind of feel free knowing I won’t be writing more about this series. (Also I am adding some TWs down below but don't know if I am doing them right!)

More on the exoticism, weirdness with Audrey Rose's Indian mother, and the British Empire:

In chapter 14, we read, "Dark strands of hair were piled atop my head, my eyes more mysterious somehow with the dark liner, and my lips were the bright crimson of freshly spilled blood … I thought of my mother and the saris she’d brought me to wear from Grandmama’s homeland. I felt just as stunning now as I did then, and the memory warmed me.” I am still trying to figure out why Maniscalco made Audrey Rose mixed race. Why is Audrey Rose’s grandmother from India? Literally, what did it add to the story? Was it nothing more than just a cute lil quirky fun character trait to her? I don’t think I missed any key moments where there were important conversations about race, imperialism, British occupation, etc., mostly because Audrey Rose’s father (a big fancy rich lord) is a white man and because Audrey Rose is white-passing. I can’t recall any moments in the book where she faces the realities/consequences of being a socially mobile POC WOMAN in LONDON IN THE 1880s. Honestly, if someone else can point out a passage I glossed over or explain some nuance I missed I would actually really appreciate it, because this drove me CRAZY.

(Audrey Rose and her brother also go visit a circus in town in chapter 15; of course these events existed purely for England/colonizing countries to exercise and display their power and to exoticize/exploit the communities/cultures that they came into contact with. Audrey Rose sees silks, beads, etc. that remind her of her grandmother’s saris, smells the foods of her family’s “homeland,” etc. Also in the same chapter there’s this great scene where her brother is describing their mother and father’s marriage: “Grandmama told me she’d refused him twenty times just for fun,” Nathaniel replied. “Said he squirmed like a cobra in a basket. That’s how she knew he was in love.” Uhhh … Is that supposed to be romantic?)

On the feminism stuff:

I am too *gestures vaguely* to write much more on this. Yeah, it’s heavy-handed. Yeah, it’s cringey. But at the end of the day, it’s not really that harmful, I guess. Here’s just a fun sampling of some of my favorite lines from the book:A few of my favorite bites from the book:

***“close-minded society” (chapter 21) Okay

***"Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news?” (chapter 15) Bro do you know how the media works

***"But what of her [mother’s] insistence that I could be both strong and beautiful? Surely Father had to be wrong.” (chapter 21) Yes girl you are strong and beautiful!

***"There would be no skirts or bustles to wrangle with anymore. I was through with things confining me” (chapter 22) Ugh down with corsets just another tool of the patriarchy amirite

On the violence against women, weird classism, and stuff about prostitution:

I was bound to be uncomfortable about a lot of this because I have weird feelings about true crime stuff, and this is historical fiction set around the Jack the Ripper murders. It was going to go sour somewhere.

Consistently Audrey Rose wants to be sympathetic, but is unable to connect all the parts of this situation together: she struggles to imagine the women (very real-life victims) beyond their lives of prostitution, poverty, squalor. When she does, we see something like this: "The women he murdered did matter ... They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters” (chapter 28). Oftentimes she wishes she could continue to cut cadavers open in peace (women in science!) without having to think about how those cadavers came to be on her examination table: “I needed to get away from those women and their tragic lives before my emotions got the better of me” (chapter 25). Perhaps Maniscalco deserves more credit here, and perhaps I’m just being a bitch, because Audrey Rose is a very privileged girl and her actions and thoughts make that clear. It’s just that the conclusions she comes to in the name of feminism, justice, etc. weren’t at all satisfying to me.

Also: OH MY GOD. Oh my god. There is this one moment that is BRANDED AGAINST THE GRAY MATTER OF MY BRAIN FOREVER and I will never forget it. At one point, Audrey Rose and love interest Thomas decide the best thing they can do is go out and—yes—stalk Jack the Ripper. To do this, they know they need to “blend in” with the crowds in East End. So … like … cosplaying as poor people? Audrey Rose manages to find and wear the dress of ONE OF THE MURDER VICTIMS (long story short her medical doctor uncle was in a relationship with this woman and when she died he acquired her worldly possessions). It’s like, so fucked up, I can’t even describe my reaction when I read it. In chapter 25 we read, "The dress was a little too old, a little too ragged, a bit too big. If I were to wear this ghastly dress out, I’d look as if I belonged in the East End, begging for work to feed my addictions … It was absolutely perfect.” Oh my god. And THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. While they’re “stalking Jack the Ripper” on this incredibly stupid mission, the two main characters just … make out in an alley. Like, okay. People are being murdered and you’re wearing a dead woman’s dress and you suspect your father of being guilty, but yeah, that kind of stuff makes us all a little horny. Super relatable. Absolutely no concept of reality or consequences or anything at all.

Another random note on class: I noticed the only time Maniscalco writes in dialects/accents, she’s writing seedy/working-class characters. Not saying this is a problem unique to Maniscalco’s writing by a longshot, but ... something to think on. (I think it’s ingrained in a lot of author’s writing habits/minds at this point.)

Weird stuff about the dad, the brother, and what justice means to Audrey Rose:

I had to add a whole new highlighting color for this stuff!

Any growth Audrey Rose might’ve shown over the course of the novel—anything about how these women mattered, and how they deserved justice as any “highborn” individual might, simply by dint of being humans—goes away when she and Thomas come to the conclusion that the Ripper murders must have been committed by Audrey Rose’s father. She realizes her moral dilemma when she contends with the harsh reality: if her father is the Ripper, can she turn him into the authorities? Audrey Rose worries how that might impact her own moral virtue: "They’d hang Father. Given who he was, they’d make it as public and brutal as possible. Just because blood might stain his hands did not mean I wanted his on mine. No matter if it was right or wrong” (chapter 24). First of all, BITCH. You have to. You have to report this kind of thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. I HAVE to imagine Maniscalco’s intended audience would feel the same? It’s? Serial murder? Second: Audrey Rose, baby, sweetie, honey. This is just a reminder that ACAB. I actually don’t know a whole lot about how the late Victorian criminal justice system functioned, but something tells me her family's public outlook would’ve been less bleak than she imagines here.

Lucky for Audrey Rose, her dad isn’t guilty in the end—but her brother sure is. He’s a mad scientist, using the brutalized bodies and souvenirs of his victims for Frankenstein-style experiments. Ultimately, he wants to reanimate the corpse of his and Audrey Rose’s long-dead mother, and he believes he can achieve this by transplanting fresh organs into ? Her dead and decomposed body? The thing is that, this moral dilemma persists for Audrey Rose—and her dad, too. He pressures her not to bring the little matter of Nathaniel’s issue—you know, his casual murder of a number of local women—to Scotland Yard: “They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?” (chapter 29). Nathaniel electrocutes himself to evade capture by the authorities, and Audrey Rose and her father feel relief. The book ends by confirming that "Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now” (chapter 30).

((Side note: Listen. I knew Nathaniel had something sinister going on from the GET-GO (I’m not trying to be obnoxious) because he basically started some nighttime vigilante group called the Whitechapel Knights of Justice or whatever bullshit, I don’t know. All I know is that my red flags IMMEDIATELY started going off because that sounds exactly like the terrible and awful Crusader cosplay clubs from my (bad) Catholic childhood, where everyone thinks they’re a knight for Good but really they’re the bad guy.))

Overall, kind of ...

I think one of my biggest issues with this ending was … You have already stepped into a realm of fantastical revisionist history here in writing such a fictionalized version of these real-life events. (I know Maniscalco is far from the first to do it.) That means that the rules you are playing by are essentially your own—evidenced by the liberties she points out in her Author’s/Historical note (dates changed for convenience or storytelling purposes, real-life individuals changed for narrative purposes, etc.). So WHY would you not conclude this fantasy retelling of the Jack the Ripper murders by meting out some form of justice? I hear the counterargument: "Well, because we still don’t know the culprit today. This book would ring hollow if it named someone since historians, forensic scientists, etc. still don’t know who committed these crimes." My question: is that really a problem though? This is a work of fiction. Nothing in history happened the way it is written here. Is it crueler to the women who were murdered and who remain spectacles for true crime junkies and authors like this, less satisfying to readers who want some more concrete kind of closure, to not offer that up? I am asking this in earnest here, because I don’t know. Maybe it is insensitive to make up a murderer, to fill in the gaps in order to make sense of the violence that happened. But in my brain it feels almost like a responsibility at this point, since these murders served as the backdrop for the romance between Audrey Rose and Thomas, for the background to Audrey Rose’s empty feminist diatribes, and as inspiration for a book that went on far longer than it needed to. To me it kind of feels like the least an author could do, but I have no clue.

Anyways, I'm just glad I get to put this series to bed. No more.I truly lost sleep over it this weekend. Onto something better, please, for the love of god.

#mnc reads #mnc writes #stalking jack the ripper #sjtr #I dont know what to tag this as but I dont want to leave anything out!#tw death #tw suicice #body horror #violence #classism #I guess #racism #maybe #I dont know #Im sorry

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