#that the same thing that makes my mood significantly drop every year at this exact time

[varjopeura]

✨

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 14

Catch up on Chapter 13 here

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

or

Van’s heading out for the night.

Word count: ~8.2k

A/N: content warning for some (pre-discussed) sex where one person is high but the other is sober

Chapter Fourteen August 2019

Van flew in on a Tuesday and is gone by Thursday, back to the U.K. to headline another festival. He promises to be back soon; August is full of sporadic free time between the festivals and radio events, a chance for the boys to recharge in preparation for the second leg of the United States tour that would be commencing in the fall and carry them until the Christmas season. 

On that following Wednesday you’re curled up on your couch, drinking your coffee and scrolling through social media when your screen goes blank. There’s a moment of confusion before it lights up with Van’s call.

“Hey,” You answer hesitantly, expecting this to be some sort of mistake. He never calls this early.

“Hey!” Van sounds cheery and awake, the exact opposite of you at the moment. “You’re up! I timed it right!”

“You what?” You laugh, pulling away to look at the time. He’s called you at 6:15 on the dot. “You planned this?”

“Yeah! I wanted to catch you before you went to work!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, brightening up your mood slightly. You were currently wrestling with the dread in your stomach reminding you of all that would need to be done once you get to the office today. Even your usual avoidance tactic of mindlessly scrolling through social media wasn’t working that well. 

“Good job,” You congratulate him before taking a sip of coffee. “How’s it going with your parents?”

Although Van could have flown back to the States immediately after the festival performances on Saturday and Sunday, he’d decided to spend a few nights at his parent’s place during the week, before coming back to California on Friday. 

“Good,” Van hums, and you hear rustling in the background as he moves around. “They’re out at the shops right now to get stuff for tea.”

“Bet they love having you all to themselves.”

“Oh, they fucking do.” Van’s tone implies he doesn’t quite feel the same. “They’re cornering me every chance they get to give me a talking to.”

You think of the way Van described his parent’s adoration for him, and try to imagine what bone they could possibly have to pick with him. “A talking to? Why?”

“Because I don’t have any little ones!” His voice is high. “They’re asking me about getting married and shit! The farthest I’m looking into the future is January!”

Van had already started to express his excitement for the new year to you, when the band had a couple months of a clear schedule to get into the studio for the fourth album. Knowing his one-track mind when it comes to music, you actually feel sympathy for his parents trying to discuss anything else with him. It was a lost cause.

“Aw,” You coo, “They just want a little Van to hang out with when you’re on tour! Don’t be mean.”

“M’not tryin’ to be,” He sighs. “But I’m not worried about that stuff. I’m trying to get us selling out stadiums.”

A typical Van response. “Yeah,” You hum, feeling pity for him as well. As different as your lives were, the difficulties of being surrounded by family after being away for most of the year were one thing you shared. You know how the incessant questions and demand for every second of your free time gets to your head. 

“Unless you’ve got a little one for me?” Van jokes before lowering his voice. “After last week?”

A startled laugh bursts down the line from you. “No, no,” You assure him quickly, before pausing. “Well, my period hasn’t come yet, so we’ll see.” You’re teasing, of course. It wasn’t due for a couple of days, and you were so religious about your birth control you had no doubts it’d arrive.

“Fingers crossed.”

“Van!”

“That it comes!” Van laughs. “Christ!”

You’re laughing with him, the heavy feelings of dread having been chased away. But if you didn’t get off the couch soon you’d be running late. “I gotta go get ready for work,” You tell him, still grinning.

“Yeah, alright. I just really needed to speak to someone sane,” Van sighs. “Have a good day.”

“I will,” You lie, finishing off the rest of the coffee in your mug with two gulps. “You can text me anytime you need some extra sanity.”

“Keep me in your prayers,” He says dryly. “See you Friday.”

\\

Your period arrives that night, light and pleasantly early. Even without any doubt, Van’s joke had put a niggling sense of worry in the back of your mind, and you were relieved to put it to rest.

Thursday is business as usual, but on Friday your excitement about seeing Van is dampened significantly when you realize you’ve bled through your tampon overnight, rushing to throw your soiled underwear and sheets in the washer before work. Things only get worse from there; the entire day at your desk you’re seized by merciless cramps, accompanied by the constant need for trips to the bathroom. You’d wanted to surprise Van by picking him up at the airport that evening, but instead you let him Uber over, hoping he’s not too disappointed. 

As soon as you hear the knock at your door you launch yourself off of the couch, hurrying to answer it. 

There’s been a post-airplane Van McCann delivered to your porch, complete with all of his luggage. His face lights up as soon as the door swings open.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” You reply as you help him roll his two suitcases into the living room. His backpack has slipped off of the one shoulder it was resting on, and you grab the handle of it, untangling it from his arm. There’s some commotion as Van shrugs his leather jacket off, hanging it neatly on the hooks on the wall next to the door, and shimmies out of his boots, but after that small delay he goes for his usual hug, you two clinging to each other.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up,” You say into the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Van brushes you off as he pulls away. “I wouldn’t wanna deal with the airport after working all day either. I’m here now, right?”

You smile at his optimism. As you grab the television remote, pausing your show and shutting down the TV, Van rolls his two suitcases into the empty guest bedroom before taking his backpack into your room.

“Are you washing the sheets?” He calls from the other room, and you realize that you’d been so caught up in Netflix you’d forgotten to make the bed before Van arrived.

“Yeah!” You call as you head to the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. “They’re done now, though!”

You hear the soft footsteps of Van in his socks as he follows you into the laundry room, prepared to help you carry the dried bedding to your room. 

When you hand Van the rumpled ball of your comforter, he takes a moment to sniff it. “Clean sheets for me? You shouldn’t have!”

You knock the dryer door closed with your foot, trailing behind Van with the sheets. “You wish,” You tease him, dropping the pile of fabric on your bare mattress. “I bled through them, actually.”

You weren’t one to coddle grown men when it comes to the reality of periods, but once the words were out of your mouth you found yourself hoping they didn’t gross Van out too much. 

“Ah.” Van nods in understanding, starting to unravel the fitted sheet. “So no little ones?”

“Will you stop?” You laugh, assisting Van in the task of attempting to get the elastic wrapped around the bed. “If you keep jinxing it I’m going to make you wear a condom again.”

“Consider my lips sealed, then.”

You smile to yourself as you two finish up the bed. It’s amazing how much Van coming over feels so natural; You’ve missed the constant joking, and forgotten how easily you two coexist in the same space. You wonder if it ever gets less exciting to see him after trips; each time it feels like a dream that he’s physically here with you. So far, that sense of wonder hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s only exacerbated the longer you two are friends, not to mention the way he’s always so happy to see you. 

“Does pizza sound good for dinner?” You ask him. You hoped it did, because you had been craving it terribly all day. Also, it was the only thing that sounded even remotely appetizing with the way your hormones were causing chaos in your stomach. Besides ice cream. You wonder if you still had a carton in the freezer, or if Van would be in the mood to go get some at the soft serve place down the road. 

“Pizza sounds great.”

Van does the honors of putting the order in via his app, so that dinner is his treat tonight. You two spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, plunging back into your favorite Netflix show together as you both chow down on your spectacular dinner choice. It occurs to you for the first time tonight that you share a Netflix show with Van; one that neither of you watch when you’re apart. You wonder if there’s even a small chance that he’ll ever see you as more than a friend with benefits. 

\\

You’re awake before Van on Saturday morning, and thankfully haven’t bled onto the sheets. 

Your period is still excessively heavy, and you curse the universe for doing this to you the weekend Van has to be over. There’s plenty of days he isn’t around! Why must you bleed yourself to death the days he is?

It’s one of those mornings that feel like a car stalling, refusing to get moving. You have a cup of coffee, check the news on your phone, like a few instagram posts, and watch some morning talk shows before deciding to nestle back in bed. Van’s still dead to the world as you tuck yourself in, his body wiped from the jet-lag.

The second time you wake up is to a very disoriented Van fumbling around by your nightstand. 

“What are you doing?” You groan, pulling your pillow over your head to try to block out the blaring afternoon sun shining through the cracks in your blinds. You knew it was futile, and you wouldn’t be able to return peacefully to sleep now.

“Charging my phone,” Van’s voice crackles as he speaks. You peek out from the shade of your pillow to see him shove your charger into his phone, setting it on your bedside table next to yours.

“What time is it?” You mumble, regretting it when Van nudges the pillow off of your face.

“Hm?”

“I said what time is it!” You whine, tugging your pillow back into place. Your cramps hadn’t been around while you were having coffee, but they’ve definitely arrived now. Maybe you could just suffocate yourself with the pillow and be done with it.

There’s the soft tap of Van checking your phone screen. “Almost one.”

“Let’s go back to sleep,” You try. Maybe if Van lays down again you could get him to cuddle you.

“I just slept for thirteen hours,” Van snorts. “Come have a cig. Do you have eggs?”

You heave yourself up dramatically, nodding as you wipe the hair out of your face.

“Do you want some eggs and toast? I can fry up some mean breakfast potatoes too if you’ve got some.”

Your stomach growls. “Yeah, I’ve got potatoes.”

You mope to the bathroom before meeting Van in the kitchen. He’s left a cigarette and his lighter on the counter for you, and you take your first puff as he shuffles around in the fridge, his own cigarette already dangling from his mouth. 

“Can you reach up into that cabinet?” You ask as he starts to lay out his ingredients on the counter. You’re grateful you remembered to get a fresh carton of eggs the last time you were at the store. 

Van swings the cabinet open. “Pass me the ibuprofen. No, other bottle,” You instruct him, before he passes over the correct pill bottle. 

“Not feeling well?” He asks, watching you wash your ibuprofen down with a swig of his coffee.

“These cramps are fucking killing me,” You complain as you pass the bottle back, Van tucking it back on its shelf. “They’re not usually this bad.”

Van hums to show he’s listening, but you leave it at that. 

You prep the potatoes while Van makes you both a plate of eggs, peeling and slicing them exactly as Van demands. He didn’t lie about his potato-frying abilities, and soon you’re both seated at the table with heaping piles of fluffy eggs and crispy potatoes, ravenous after sleeping way too late. Neither of you realize you’ve forgotten to make toast until you’re done eating.

Afterwards, you two pass the rest of your afternoon away on the couch, watching television. Van lets you nestle yourself under his arm, cramming your legs into the depths of the couch cushions so that you can press your body against his, your head resting comfortably on his chest. 

When TV starts to get boring Van maneuvers to the YouTube app, determined to show you a few of the band’s performances. He’d only recently become aware how much you really didn’t know about them, and was determined to bring you up to speed. You had tried to stay clueless on purpose; you figured if you went full-on-fangirl, scouring social media for content and insider information, that you’d probably look at the boys in a different light. You liked that you hadn’t been a fan of them when you’d met Van, and that you had no social media persona to compare to the boys you hang out with in the flesh. But you figure there’s no harm in watching a few performances of the setlist you’d already seen three times, especially when Van is so proud to show them to you.

You’re watching on-screen Van belt out Twice when you realize Van’s been texting through the last three songs. Obviously, watching videos of himself is probably not the most entertaining thing in the world for him, but you couldn’t bear for his attention to be elsewhere.

“Stop texting,” You whine, rubbing your cheek against his shirt. 

“Sorry,” Van mumbles, but he still doesn’t put his phone down. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

Despite feeling like hell warmed over, you perk up. “Where?”

“Out to the pub. A couple of mates are in town and want to catch me for some late birthday drinks.”

You sink back into Van’s chest, disappointed. You were hoping Van had been proposing a dinner for just the two of you, like you hadn’t had since the first time he ever took you out. You were craving something romantic like that from him. Why hadn’t you ever gone out on another date? It must be because that’s when he realized he wasn’t interested in you romantically. Sure, you two have had some romantic moments in the comfort of your own homes, but there was something about getting dressed up and going out that felt so much more official and exciting.

“Nah,” You tell him. “I feel like shit.”

“You’ll be okay if I go?”

You rest your chin on his chest, peering up at his concerned face. “Yes! I can even pick you up, if you want.”

At this, Van breaks out into a grin. “You’d do that for me? That’d be ace, actually.”

You push the hair from his face, realizing you’d just agreed to stay up tonight waiting on his call. “Of course,” You assure him, before pressing your cheek back into his shirt. “But if I’m gonna have to wait up then let me sleep on you until you’ve got to get ready.”

You hear Van set his phone down on the coffee table. “What about a li’l kip? Throw that blanket over us, will ya?”

You unravel the blanket in question, draping it over both of your bodies as you two wiggle into a comfortable position. Van is warm and soft, and the sound of his breathing creates the perfect conditions for you to doze off almost immediately. 

\\

You both wake up to the alarm Van’s set, your domestic bliss ruined by Van needing to get ready for the bar. You stay slumped on the couch, watching in amusement as he hauls one of his suitcases out of the guest bedroom, rifling through it for his toothbrush and the least wrinkled button up he’d packed. He’s such a chaotic, last-minute type of person, and there’s something about getting to enjoy the show without actually having to get yourself ready that cheers you up. 

Van is blow drying his hair into his typical waves when you shift on the couch and swear you feel the familiar warmth of your tampon leaking.

You try to hold still. Van will be leaving soon, and you can worry about it then. But then you cringe as you feel the sensation again, and then you remember you’re not wearing a liner right now, and you stand up from the couch.

“Hey, can I steal the bathroom for a sec?” You ask, hesitant to disturb Van. He’s got shaving cream on his face, and he looks at you in disbelief.

“Right this second?” He asks, but his tone lets you know it’s a trick question. He’s rushing to run the razor over his jaw, and you cringe, expecting him to cut himself moving that quickly.

“I just need it really quick,” You plead, dreading the surprise that awaits when you pull down your underwear.

“Y/N,” Van huffs. He hasn’t even looked over at your reflection standing in the doorway, too focused on shaving. “I’m in the middle of having a shave and I’m gonna be late! I don’t care if you take a fucking shit in front of me! Have at it!”

“Okay, oh my God, fine!” You snap, stomping behind Van to the toilet. You tried to be polite, but if he was going to be a jerk, why even bother? 

You yank down your underwear, and predictably they’re soiled with a nice-sized red inkblot where your tampon had leaked. You kick off your sweatpants in order to get your underwear off. Guess you’d be doing a load of laundry tonight while you waited on Van. 

You tug your tampon out, which is horrifically, overly full. You’ve got to dispose of it in your bathroom trash, which you keep in the cupboard under the sink, which Van is currently blocking as he stands in front of the sink. 

“Can you move?” You snarl, still annoyed with him for not giving you privacy. His head jerks down to look at you, and you can see the anger flash through his eyes at your words. Just as he’s opening his mouth, no doubt to chew you out, you see his eyes dart to the tampon precariously dangling between your fingertips, stained and dripping onto the toilet seat. 

He shuts his mouth and steps back, allowing you to open the cupboard with one hand and dispose of the tampon in the other. You scowl as you wipe yourself and insert a new tampon before snatching your underwear and sweats, marching out of the bathroom pantsless. 

You immediately treat your underwear with stain remover, throwing them directly into the washer. Then you storm room to room, looking for other articles of clothing to wash with it. You weren’t going to go through all this hassle over one fucking item of clothing. 

But even after emptying your bedroom hamper and throwing the kitchen hand towels in for the sake of it, there’s still only enough clothes to coat the metal bottom of the barrel. You decide to go through Van’s suitcase sitting out on the living room floor. You angrily sniff each stupid button up and matching black shirt, throwing them with all of your might towards the kitchen so they’d be easier to get into the laundry room. Why was this entire suitcase full of identical clothes? Why didn’t he ever wear any fucking color except black or navy blue? At this rate he might as well just keep two of the same outfit and rotate through them!

With his dirty jeans, socks, shirts and underwear, there’s finally enough things to consider starting the washer worthwhile. You’re still upset, pouring fabric softener over Van’s clothes at the top of the pile as if you’re dousing them with gasoline, and slamming the lid shut with a loud metal echo as you get the water running. Then you head into your bedroom, get some fresh pants on, and resume your spot on the couch.

Van is so fucking annoying!!! You immediately send to Mary.

You wait for her to respond before you send her the scalding paragraph explaining the situation that you’ve already started mentally drafting. In the meantime you flick through other apps, angry at everyone living their perfect little lives on instagram, and tweeting about their perfect little significant others on twitter. 

But the longer you sit there, the more your anger starts to fade. You think back to Van’s face when you bitched at him, and how he didn’t even react. He hadn’t even been that rude, now that you reflect on the situation. He was only in a rush. Soon you’re left with just a cold pit in your stomach, and the embarrassment of realizing you’d completely overreacted.

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van snorts at your words, tugging you in. “I should’ve just stepped out for a sec.”

“You were in a rush,” You excuse him tearfully. Why are you on the verge of crying? You realize you sound pathetic, but there’s nothing you can do about it. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I feel really bad.”

Van gives you a soft smile, before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’re forgiven.”

“I hope I am. I’ve got all your dirty clothes from your suitcase in the washer.”

“Oh, you’re definitely forgiven now,” Van grins. There’s the shine of headlights against the blinds, and Van peeks out again. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll call ya!”

And with that he’s bouncing out of the front door, and the countdown starts until you’ve got to go retrieve him from whatever state he drinks himself into. 

\\

You can’t doze off. You’ve just gotta stay busy. That’s your mantra as the hours pass. You finish up the load of laundry, you clean the bathroom that Van’s ripped through like a tornado, and then you get engrossed in the book you’re reading. It’s tempting to think that you’ll wake up to your ringtone if you turn your phone up, but you know better. Once you’re out for the night you sleep like a rock. 

At one A.M. your contacts are dried out for the day, and you exchange them for your glasses. At two you have to force yourself to sit upright on the couch, because sprawling out is making your body feel too warm and heavy. And at three you decide to step out onto the porch and have a cigarette for some fresh air.

Your phone is wedged in the crack of the couch, and as soon as you’re in from your cigarette you check your notifications. In the few minutes you were away from your phone there’s now one new notification, a missed call from Van. Before you can return the call, your phone is ringing again.

“You ready?” You greet him. You feel more awake, a fresh bolt of excitement shooting through you at the fact you’re going to see him again, and get to sleep next to him tonight. 

“I am,” Van confirms. “I thought you fell asleep.”

There’s a slur around the edges of his words, and you’re excited to get to converse with drunk Van tonight, even though he’s not so different from sober Van. 

“Nope! Just having a cigarette. Where am I going?”

There’s some commotion on the end of the line as you listen to Van ask another person where he’s at, but then he’s able to give you someone’s address. Apparently someone had decided to keep the night going at one of their houses rather than head to another bar.

There’s never a time that L.A. is fully asleep, but if you had to pick a good time to be on the road it would be now, at three in the morning. The traffic is minimal, and although you struggle to find Van’s friend’s place amidst the subdivision of identical homes, eventually Van steps outside and you see his lanky silhouette stumbling down the driveway a few houses down the street. You pull forward and he climbs into the front passenger seat.

“Have fun?” You ask, as Van buckles himself in.

“Yeah,” Van nods. His voice sounds a bit dreamy, like his head’s in the clouds. “It was nice catching up with them.”

The ‘them’ in question were a few other indie artists signed to the same label as Catfish. Van mumbles for a bit about their conversations and a new single they had played him that was supposed to impact radio in the next week or so. You’re not listening too intently, humming along in response as you get back on the main roads.

You suddenly spot the bright golden arches of a McDonald’s sign, and your stomach growls. You know if you don’t have a late night snack now, your stomach would never let you sleep. 

“Hungry?” You ask as you start to turn into the drive thru. Whether or not Van wanted something, you were definitely getting some fries. And maybe a McChicken, come to think of it.

“No, I’m fine,” Van says, tapping away at his phone. He was texting someone, his fingers composing a message at rapid speed before you watch the bubble slide up as he sends it. Who the hell was he texting this late?

“Who are you texting?” You ask as soon as you’re done placing your order at the window. You keep your voice light, hoping to seem conversational rather than nosy.

“Um, Bond.” Van tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, was he out with you guys?” 

“No. I just wanted to send him a quick note about a riff before I forgot.”

You roll your eyes to yourself, even if you feel a swell of affection for him. Van McCann, classic workaholic even when he’s drunk.

“Can we turn the air up?” Van sighs suddenly, shifting around in his seat. “It’s sweltering.”

There’s a breeze flowing through your open window that’s giving your arms goosebumps, but you suppose it probably feels humid for Van since his window is closed. “Yeah, turn it up.”

You don’t expect him to crank the knob to the highest setting, sending ice cold air blasting through the vents. 

You leave the air conditioning alone as you pull forward to get your bag of food, but as soon as your window is closed the cabin of the car is freezing. You click the knob back a few settings, so a snowstorm is no longer roaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” Van huffs, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m dying!”

“I’m dying!” You protest, “You’re trying to freeze me out!”

“Freeze you out?” Van argues, “You’ve basically got it on heat!”

You look over at him in utter confusion. The temperature setting was set to coldest and the vents were blowing at a higher setting than you ever bothered to use. In the glow of the red light you were currently stopped at, you could see that Van was very visibly sweating.

As you continue the route back to your house, Van goes so far as to undo all his buttons, tugging his shirt off of his shoulders so that he was sitting there in only his black t-shirt. So dramatic. 

“Can I have some chips?” Van asks, but without further ado he’s pulled a few fries from the brown bag with his fingertips, chowing down. You sigh, but let him get away with it.

When he goes to take another handful, you reach over without looking, snatching the bag from his lap. “You said you didn’t want anything!”

“I don’t! They just smell good!”

The road is empty, so you glance over at Van in frustration. He’s staring at you in annoyance, wide eyed like he doesn’t see a problem with him helping himself to your food. Maybe you wouldn’t notice on someone with darker colored eyes, but immediately you’re startled to see there’s almost no blue to his irises. 

It all clicks together in your head suddenly. “Are you high?”

Van’s jaw hangs open slightly, but he doesn’t dispute it. The overheating, the dilated pupils, being an absolute spaz texting Bondy about guitar solos in the middle of the night. All of the signs are there. 

“You took ecstasy, didn’t you?” You grin in delight at having figured it out, poking at his chest. His body is radiating heat. “You did! Admit it!”

“I didn’t lie!” Van crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat as he offers you a lopsided grin. “I never said I didn’t!”

You pull onto your street, Van trailing behind you as you head into the house with your bag of food, not trusting him with it. “Well, you can stay up all night, but I’m going to bed.”

“M’not gonna be up all night,” Van tells you, but he’s vibrating with energy as he sits down on the couch next to you.

You tug your McChicken out of the bag, unwrapping it immediately so you can take the first bite. You only shrug. Although you had occasionally been around others who were on molly, Van was the only one of you two with first-person experience.

“Hey,” Van says suddenly. “You’re wearing your glasses.”

“I am.” He’s seen you in them on rare occasions, but tonight he’s looking at you intently like he’s seeing them for the first time.

“You look hot,” He says finally. 

You almost choke on the fry you’re swallowing. “Yeah right. Shut up.”

“You do! Like a sexy secretary.”

You roll your eyes, not justifying him with a response. There was a distinct difference between a secretary in a revealing button up and a short skirt, and you sitting there on your couch in one of Van’s crewnecks you’d stolen on a night you’d stayed over and baggy, shapeless sweatpants. But if Van was high enough to confuse the two, more power to him.

“I’m going to bed,” You announce after you’d finished off your McChicken. There’s a handful of fries left in the red cardboard packaging, and you shake them at Van in offering. He takes them gratefully.

“Not without me,” He says with his mouth full, inhaling your leftover fries and standing up from the couch with you. You gather up all of your trash, piling it in the bag before heading to the kitchen to throw it out. 

Van follows you into the bedroom, and you startle when his fingers sneak under the hem of your crewneck. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh, elbowing him as he brings his hands to your stomach, pulling you backwards into his chest. “Let me get ready for bed!”

The more you struggle against him the tighter he holds you, his fingers trailing up your ribs and to your chest. You continue to attempt to fight him off, giggling the entire time.

“Don’t you try to sneak second base,” You tease, his hands coming back out of your sweatshirt, although he still wraps his arms around your middle, his nose coming into your hair.

“You’re soft,” He whines, running his hands up and down your front over your clothes. “And you smell good.”

“If you wanna cuddle me, get in bed.” You finally shake yourself free of his embrace, shedding your borrowed sweatshirt and heading for the dresser to grab a sleep shirt. Van isn’t discreet with the way he’s staring at your topless figure, practically drooling as he peels away his own shirt and undoes his belt. 

Climbing into bed after your long night waiting for Van feels like heaven, and you’re relieved to fold up your glasses and perch them on your bedside table, the true mark of a day ending. 

Van climbs in beside you, and you click the lamp off, the room going pitch black. You flip on your side so that you’re facing Van. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, the streetlights glowing through the window and barely illuminating his face.

“Can I have that cuddle now?” He asks quietly, and you laugh, wiggling closer to him as a yes.

You expect him to wrap his arm around you, but instead his fingers sneak right back under your shirt, before he slides his palm against the small of your back, rubbing up and down. You close your eyes, soothed by the sweep of his hand, before you feel his hair tickling your nose and his lips on your neck.

“Van,” You huff in surprise. “That’s not cuddling!”

“Sure it is.” You can hear the laughter in Van’s voice as he resumes kissing up and down the line of your neck. It feels pretty fucking good, so you close your eyes and relax against your pillow.

“It’s not,” You still reply, not willing to let him have the last word. “But you’re lucky you’re good with your mouth.”

Van moans against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you,” He confesses as he stops kissing your neck in favor of joining your lips. As he licks into your mouth he starts to maneuver you onto your back, his hand now rubbing your side as he starts to hover over you. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

His words send a shiver up your spine, even though you’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to. The kissing? Your skin? He’s kissing you with more urgency now, and your hand comes up to his cheek. His skin is smooth and soft from his shave, and you swipe your thumb back and forth.

“Oh shit, that feels so good,” Van groans, and you feel it right in the depths of your belly. 

“This?” You ask, swiping your thumb again. 

“Yeah,” Van pants, kissing you harder. “Just touch me. Touch me everywhere, fuck.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement to get your hands on him. Your hands roam all over, scratching his scalp, the back of his neck, his shoulders. You feel him break out in goosebumps as you trace your fingertips against the bumps of his spine. 

“Don’t stop,” Van pleads when you pause, lost in the kissing for a moment. You think back to that conversation you’d had on the patio about how much he liked taking ecstasy. You hadn’t realized he enjoyed it this much.

“Are you gonna come?” You can’t help but ask, because you realize now he wasn’t kidding about simple touches putting him on the verge. He was still in his briefs, but he was clearly rock hard.

“Fuck if I know. It feels like I already have,” Van nuzzles against your chest, practically purring when you put your hands in his hair again. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

You laugh in surprise at his words. “Is it really that good?”

Van swears again as you give the back of his neck and gentle squeeze, and you take that as a yes. 

“Let me fuck you,” Van pleads, sitting up so he can look directly into your eyes. He’s clearly out of his mind with desire. “Please.”

“You won’t last,” You joke, stroking your thumb over one of his nipples. He shudders helplessly.

“Don’t I know it,” He laughs at himself. “But you’re so fit. Please.”

“I dunno.” Your hesitation looks like it’s causing Van an excruciating amount of pain. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“We’ve talked about it when I had my head on right,” Van begs, watching as you trail one single finger up and down his stomach and chest. “Plus, you’re my best friend.”

He must be extraordinarily high if he’s slipped on his favorite British slang of best mate. You can tell that waiting for your word is intensely tortuous for him.

“Uh, no to fucking,” Comes your ultimate decision, realizing that’d be logistically hard to navigate with your period and a hazy Van. “But lay down. And get your underwear off.”

Van scrambles to do as you say, all of his limbs vibrating with need. When you climb down between his legs, nudging his thighs open, you feel them try to close instinctively. 

“Don’t smother me,” You warn him, but your voice is lacking any actual threat. Van pants as you press his knees open, and after a moment’s consideration you sneak your fingers underneath them. It’s a sensitive spot for him on a regular day, but he jumps out of his skin at your gentle touch tonight. God, ecstasy-high Van was so fun to explore. Even in the extremely low light of the room you can see how badly his dick is craving to be touched, flushed and curved against his lower belly and shiny with precome. 

You knew that foreplay wasn’t an option here, so with one calculated motion you’ve pulled Van’s foreskin back with a flick of your wrist, wrapping your mouth around his dick and swiping your tongue over the ridge of his head as he cries out. 

He’s shuddering against the sheets like any moment might be the last, and you know that there’s no way he can give you an accurate warning in his current state. You lap up each spurt of precome, the hand not holding his dick in place reaching down to touch his balls. You decide not to give them their usual attention this time, instead sneaking your fingertips underneath them, and up towards the base. Maybe Van’s never been touched here, or maybe he’s just enjoying it to the extreme, but his dick twitches inside of your mouth, his toes curling. 

When you feel you’ve given him a decent amount of head, surprised he’s held off like he has, you pull back, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. You wipe your mouth dry with the back of your hand before wrapping a palm around Van, jerking him off quickly. You retract your fingertips from behind Van’s balls, instead running your nails up and down his inner thigh.

With a gasp he starts to come, and you continue to jerk him off as he comes onto his stomach in heavy spatters, his whole body contracting through his orgasm. You’re careful not to release him prematurely, jerking him off until he’s cringing with sensitivity, writhing away from your touch. 

You lean your torso off of the bed, snatching Van’s shirt from the floor. You wipe him off with careful strokes, soiling his shirt with every last drop. You offer him a clean corner of the fabric so that he can wipe the sweat off of his face.

“Are you good?” You ask once he’s tossed the shirt back onto the floor, and he furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this fucking good in my entire life,” He insists. 

You grin at the compliment, poking at his hip. “I mean, are you overheating? Do you need some water or, like, ice or something?”

“I think I’m alright. I’ll grab some water after I piss.”

While Van heads to the bathroom you stumble around in your dark kitchen, preparing him a glass of water. You hear him groan from the bathroom, the door hanging open.

“Even pissing feels incredible,” He tells you when he comes out. You pass him the ice water as you take your turn, laughing as you do. 

Your body feels like a block of lead as you climb back under the covers this time, actually ready to sleep. The only thing preventing that from happening was Van sitting upright smoking a cigarette, lamplight beaming into your eyes.

“Have a fag,” He tells you. “Get ready for round two.”

“Round two?” You sputter, shaking your head. “You fucking wish!”

“I meant for you!” Van laughs. He kindly offers his cigarette out to you, and you prop yourself up on one elbow to steal a quick drag. “Gotta make sure you get off, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman,” You joke, nestling back under the sheets. “But I’m going to sleep.”

“No fair. Even for head?”

“I’m on my period,” You remind him, rolling over so the lightbulb wasn’t shining in your eyes. “I already told you you’d be up all night alone.”

Van sighs. You doze off immediately, only to be woken up an indeterminable amount of time later to Van clicking the light off, and leaving the bedroom after grabbing your guitar.

\\

You’re up around ten the next morning, feeling amazingly refreshed after sleeping like the dead. Van, on the other hand, is sitting on the couch, puffing through a cigarette, looking considerably less refreshed.

“Morning!” You quip cheerfully just to piss him off. It works. He offers you a death glare. “Write any good songs?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we’ll see what the lads think.” He trails after you into the kitchen, where there’s a pot of coffee already brewed and partially gone.

You marvel at the sort of friendship the band has. You didn’t think anybody could pay you enough to write songs on drugs and then present them to your coworkers. But then again, maybe it was worse when they were sober songs that Van had really poured his heart into. 

“Having fun on your comedown?”

“I’m crawling out of my fucking skin. Not to mention the hangover.”

“Can’t sleep it off?”

“Not yet,” Van sighs. He’s got deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his cigarette is trembling where he’s holding it between his fingers so he can take a sip of black coffee from the mug he’d just refilled. “But once my head shuts up, I will.”

You understand the terror of intense anxiety and panic attacks, and that’s without any drugs. Watching Van’s hyperactivity transmute to panic is hard to watch. You’ve never seen happy-go-lucky Van less like himself. You feel bad now for teasing him.

“Do you wanna try? I can lay back down with you,” You offer out of pity. He shakes his head.

You finish up your coffee before getting the water running for a shower. Mary was making a trip to Costco today, and since you didn’t have a membership you were planning to go with her this afternoon. 

“Can I get in with you?” Van calls from the living room.

“Yeah!” You yell so that he can hear you, your voice echoing against the tile as you start to strip.

When Van comes in his eyes wander up and down over your body. “Is it still your time of the month?” He asks, smiling weakly.

“Unfortunately,” You sigh, tugging your tampon out right in front of him. Clearly as of yesterday you two were at this level of familiarity. You realize he’s still smiling. “Why?”

“Gotta return the favor, remember?” He reminds you as his own clothes start to litter the bathroom floor.

You haven’t been in the mood lately, too frustrated with the bloating and the cramps and the bleeding to feel even slightly attractive, but something about Van always pushes those worries aside.

“Hm, I guess you do,” You singsong as you step behind your shower curtain into the warm spray of water. “But you better hurry, I gotta go to Costco with Mary.”

Van is incredibly efficient, bending you over so that he can fuck you while also sneaking a hand around to keep warm, wet circles over your clit. As much as you usually despise doggy style there’s something perfect about it today, the water pounding down on the small of your back while you brace yourself against the tile with your forearms, struggling not to slip as Van thrusts into you. You’re deliciously sensitive because of your period, and after only a few minutes of Van’s concentrated attention with his fingertips you’re groaning through your orgasm, your knees trembling as Van’s fingers continue to move against you. 

Van pulls out, jerking himself off until you feel him come on the swell of your ass. Then his waterlogged palm flushes water over your skin, carefully cleaning himself off of you.

“That was very pornstar of you,” You tease breathlessly when you’ve stood up straight, soaking the rest of your scalp so you can finally wash your hair.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Van admits sheepishly. “Thought now would be the perfect time.” 

You wonder if he means he’s always wanted to do that to you, or if he’s never done it in general. But then you remember that you’re the only one that’s ever fucked him while he was on ecstasy, and decide to be happy with that win regardless.

After sex and a shower Van is looking a little more normal. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat, a welcome change from the pallor of his complexion when you’d greeted him this morning. He’s looking a little more content, a little less like a walking panic attack, and after he changes into some clothes he hasn’t sweat through you convince him to try getting into bed.

He’s a grown man, and doesn’t need you to oversee his nap, but that doesn’t stop you from following him into your room, and getting into bed with him. It would be perfect if you could calm him down enough to sleep in the next half hour, so that you could get ready and go shopping without having to worry. 

You sit up against your headboard and nudge his head into your lap, playing with his damp hair while he tries to settle in.

“Are you mad?” He asks, his voice muffled against your thigh.

“Mad about what?” You giggle softly, rolling your eyes.

“Have I ruined your Sunday?”

“No!” You scoff. “If anything, you just made it a lot better.”

Van grins against you at that. “You’re my best mate.”

“I know.” You sigh, half from fondness and half from the desire to be more. “You’re mine, too.”

“Don’t forget about me when I’m touring next month.”

“I could never,” You laugh, ruffling his hair in punishment. “I know you’ll come by when you can.”

Van relaxes against you, some of the demons in his head clearly appeased at your words. You wonder what other anxieties are swirling around there, if he ever has to worry about finances or forgetting to mail something or whether or not he left damp clothes in the washer or the stove on at home. It feels like he sails through life unhindered by such tedious worries, but now you’ve seen first hand he has them like everyone else. He worries about burdening others with his hangovers, and being replaced by his best friend while he’s working. 

Slept in way too late, you lie to Mary after picking up your phone from the nightstand. I’ll go with you next week!

You’re grateful last night you left your book on the nightstand instead of putting it away on the shelf, your glasses and book perfectly within reach without you having to disturb Van. This was a way better way to spend your Sunday rather than pacing through crowded aisles in a warehouse. You hold your book with one hand, still fussing with the ends of Van’s hair with the other, and enjoy your last day of the weekend. 

\\

[sd1970x]

Someone suggested I try posting my fics to tumbler

So... here goes! Summary: Marinette is certain she finally has things mostly figured out: Whether it's having a secret life as a miraculous-holding superheroine, saving Paris together with her trusty partner or standing up to Chloe. Whether it's by herself, as a part of a pair or even a team, she knows it through and through. Then one day, Gecko appears, and nothing is ever going to be the same again. She might need to cast aside everything she thought about teamwork, relationships and what it means to be a miraculous holder. What's going to happen between her and her partner now? What's that strange new superheroine hiding behind her mask? Chapter 1: Yamori. It was just a regular workday. That’s exactly what it was. He was a normal boy with a normal life, even if other people have their kind of a normal life. His simply involved working in construction at high height. Hamad still went with that pointless, mock helmet-placing gesture. It helped him feel better for some reason, despite having no real helmet to go with it. The strapping point part, that he couldn’t even play-pretend. At least he knew one was supposed to exist, just like the railings that were meant to prevent him from falling. While these actually did exist occasionally, their reliability has left him wondering more than once. Would they stop him if a moment of truth came? He’d rather not think about that one at all. The other thing he would have rather not thought about, but couldn’t get out of his head, was that he finally knew why all of that was happening. That day when he saw the money change hands, out in the clear… and they didn’t even care he saw it!

No one would have believed him or any of his co-workers. That much felt almost like a universal truth. He was in a foul mood just thinking about it, and thus escapism drew its lure again. His favorite choice of escapism? Taking a sneak peek at the view of Paris from the 20th floor he’s working at. The clear sky and the look of the Eiffel tower brought about some comfort. He imagined the smell of a home-cooked meal on the stove, the warmth of a family that would definitely dwell here in two or three years, with someone living a perfectly happy normal life here. “Hey, get back to work!” He heard the voice of his superintendent, as the smell of soup made way in favor of the acrid smell of cement that needed mixing, of dust particles filling the air, of planks lying about and steel rebar being welded. The view was not his to enjoy, he remembered now. He quickly tucked the smell of soup into a deep corner of his heart before returning to mixing the cement again in numbing, repetitive motions, a blank look on his face. --- Light shone on Hawk Moth’s lair as its window expanded, triggering a fluttering of the numerous butterflies waiting for their turn. An almost inaudible flap, like bristling of leaves, mixed with the pacing of shoe soles against a concrete floor. He stopped and relished that negative feeling he was picking up. At first, it tasted like apathy of the bland and boring kind. But upon further inspection, a lacing of venom appeared. At first a trace, and then a mouthful. Like popping a caviar egg to salty goodness. And he, Hawk Moth, would be the one to help that spread its wings in the most spectacular fashion. A piece of art, indeed. “Those who are numb of fearing for their lives may yet hold the most emotions of all, simply waiting to be unleashed.” His voice intoned it as if an onlooker was there. Occasionally Nathalie would be there to listen to him. Not this time, though. He kept the habit nonetheless as it greatly entertained him. “Go forth, my Akuma, and help him realize his burning desire for justice.” He called his power as he infused the butterfly with dark energy and sent it off towards its target, A look of appreciation following its trail. He turned around and rubbed his hands together, anxious for the butterfly to make rapport again, small shivers of delight passing through his body in anticipation of the conversation he was about to hold. --- Hamad noted his superintendent was missing again. He always felt short-changed for his hard work, so stealing yet another glimpse of the view made him feel no remorse. He couldn’t see the Akuma butterfly casually making the slow ascent towards him, as his foot hit the smallest of bumps on the concrete floor. Losing balance, he quickly grabbed at the railing, only for the thing to crack. Looks like it couldn't hold him after all. He felt the acceleration, the rush of wind as he spun downwards, the resistance of air building up against his momentum. He dreamed this would happen one day, and that day now came. He closed his eyes and braced for the impact. But then, a firm grip caught him and he heard the ‘twang’ sound of a yo-yo string. That wasn’t a part of his dream, but from that day onward he’d embrace that and never let go. He felt his descent slowing down gently as he opened his eyes to find himself in the hands of a certain red-clad superheroine. But then, he felt another thing. A pair of greyish-blue eyes prying into his very soul. A warm male voice soothed into his mind.“ Mixalot, I am Hawk Moth. Isn’t it time someone mixed the cruel reality of construction safety with the serene reality of otherwise blissful Parisians?” He uttered a soft, barely audible “yes” before he felt a rush of power, and then nothing. --- Ladybug watched in horror as the person she was holding quickly got engulfed in black-purple mist and sent an indiscernible appendage towards her earrings, before even completing the transformation. She cocked her head to evade his grab and tried to push herself away. Her yo-yo got tangled and she barely made it, a few meters above ground, only to fall a second later. Only lightly beaten, Ladybug found herself facing an unharmed Akumatized victim at a disadvantaged reclined position. Her mind tried to assess the situation as quickly as feasible. The thing in front of her was similar to Stoneheart to an extent but made more of concrete plates and protruding steel rebar. His shoulder was composed of a steel beam and his second hand was now a jet hole spouting cement mixture. The ground shook a little with every step he took, combined with earth-shattering noise and the smell of wet cement. The iron scaffolding around her looked like that creature’s preferred home turf to pick a fight on. She felt two quick bursts of viscous cement hitting both of her arms, pinning her to the ground. Given enough time she would have been able to move her joints and recover, but this was time she simply didn’t have, as Mixalot charged for a much larger shot of cement, one aimed straight at her face. He’s going to choke me and knock me out. Ladybug braced herself for the impact as much as she could given her situation. “Ladybug, watch out!” A female voice called at her. The source of the voice suddenly appeared between her and Mixalot. Not slowly or gradually, but as if she had always been there. As if she materialized or decloaked at this exact point in space, by a feat of magic or miracle. She was rapidly rotating what looked to be some sorts of a hoop, with four spokes completing a cross form inside. Ladybug could only see her back, clad in a bright cyan bodysuit, a long and wavy honey-colored hair running up until the waist. Is she… a new superheroine? The cement shot sprayed in all directions as it encountered the rapidly spinning hoop. The smell of cement intensified considerably as she felt the touch of a few errant mixture drops collecting at her suit. “Quick, run away!” that same voice quickly returned her to the reality on ground. An Akuma battle was not a good time to properly reconcile such news. Instinctively responding to the cry she took advantage of the opening to dart to safety, and only then allowed herself a moment of composed thought. How can there be a new superheroine? Any more than that would probably take a lot more focus out of the problem at hand. Ladybug watched the cyan-clad superheroine engaging Mixalot, trying an attack by rotating her hoop angled above her head and extending it. So her hoop extends and contracts, similar to Chat’s baton. That’s an odd weapon to wield. Being experienced, she could foresee the inefficiency of that move and indeed, all it took Mixalot was a plain crouch to evade the attack. She could also guess what would come next, Mixalot firing a shot of cement towards her leg. While a short hop backward saved that girl from being hit by the first one, the second one hit her other leg. Now it was Ladybug’s turn to return the favor from a moment ago. She grabbed her by the yo-yo and pulled as hard as she could to get her out of harm’s way. She now had a quick frontal view, noting green eyes which mismatched her bright cyan mask and garb. The miniature hexagon pattern on both her mask and bodysuit confirmed her to be a superheroine. Otherwise, her figure was pretty much similar to Ladybug’s own, somewhat short and relatively thin. She watched with concern as the new superheroine ran tried to redo her hoop extending maneuver again, charging forward then jumping backward. Quickly noting her own safety was at risk, she tried to evade the move, but eventually, the only thing stopping her from being hit was the hoop being contracted. This isn’t going well. At all. The sound of her partner’s voice gave her hope that this tide would now turn, having little confidence in her ability to work in sync with the newcomer without getting hurt. “Chat Noir! Thanks for dropping!” “Hey, blockhead, why don’t you set for a bit? I wouldn’t want to cement our relationship just yet.” She heard the taunt aimed at Mixalot and for once, the puns were significantly appreciated. It was easy for her to see just how displeased Mixalot was at being taunted like that, charging towards Chat with careless fury. This should make him easy prey for her competent partner. A nimble flip and a baton strike later, her prediction became true. The concrete spade was pinged out of the akumatized victim’s belt, right towards the new superheroine. Come on… break it! The confused look on the newcomer’s face wasn’t boding well, evoking in Ladybug memories of her own early career. “Break it!” She cried, only to see Mixalot grab it from the newcomer’s hands. The girl’s face twitched as she crouched and lunged forward while spinning her hoop, aiming for the center of mass. Again this resulted in little more than forcing Mixalot to jump and evade it with ease. She’s letting her emotions get the better of her… is this her first real fight? That hoop is also one heck of a weird weapon. I wonder if there are better ways to use it. She watched Mixalot respond by sending two shots in opposite directions, one towards Chat Noir and the other towards the cyan superheroine. Chat evaded the one aimed at him with ease, while the other shot crashed against the rapidly spinning hoop. At that moment, the realization that she wasn’t being targeted dawned upon Ladybug. Such a rare event did not occur much when fighting as a duo, but having three targets did make for this difference. Not being under any pressure, there was ample opportunity for her to summon an item. “LUCKY CHARM” She called, presented with an oversized four-way rotating water sprinkler. A water sprinkler? What am I going to do with that? As she surveyed her surroundings, she saw her own yo-yo, the construction scaffolding, the extendable hoop, the cement mixture jet hole and the sprinkler. Maybe I can construct something here... “Keep him busy! Cyan-girl, On my mark, make sure he can’t touch the ground!” Now that would be good use of the hoop, creating a dead-zone which he has to avoid. She began running around the area, practically weaving a net with her yo-yo’s string amongst the scaffolding, as she tossed the sprinkler towards Chat. “Now!” She cried. Chat lunged towards Mixalot, fitting the sprinkler on the mixture jet hole. At the same time, the cyan superheroine crouched and began to spin her hoop, forcing everyone else above the ground. Mixalot jumped to avoid it and attempted to shoot another cement ball. The sprinkler rotated very quickly, spraying his eyes and the entire surrounding with cement but more importantly, giving him rotational acceleration which entirely threw off his balance. As she planned, Mixalot now had to choose between landing into the fast-rotating hoop on the ground and clearing the yo-yo string trap, with barely any maneuverability or eyesight available. Such a feat was beyond his ability and soon enough he found the sprinkler tangling with the yo-yo string, slamming him to the ground and dislodging the concrete spade. This time, it was Chat that grabbed and broke it, releasing the Akuma for Ladybug to capture. Ladybug whipped her yo-yo and swiftly captured the black butterfly before it could get too far.  --- "Bye bye little butterfly!” Ladybug and Chat Noir fist-bumped each other while the new superheroine panted for air. Relieved, she finally turned to address the newcomer. “Hey… thanks for the save. That was very brave of you. But you really took a great risk appearing out of nowhere like this.” Her gratitude was inherently mixed with the difficulties the unexpected fight posed. This certainly wasn’t the preferred way to make an acquaintanceship. “Th-thanks.”She noted the girl was still panting for air, placing her hoop on her back and having it just fit there, as if by magic. She asked Chat to tend to the poor overwhelmed construction worker so she could exchange a few words with the newcomer. “I have to tell you that we are used to fighting in tandem and we change our tactics when there’s a third superhero.״ She paused to observe how the newcomer would react. However, that girl appeared to be still busy reorienting herself. “You’d have to get some training and match the tactics. Um. How should we call you?” She wanted to have a name, at least. “Call me… Yamori. or Gecko, if you prefer that name.” “Okay, Gecko, so… um…” Yeah, now what exactly? She stood there thinking where all this was leading. Then Gecko spoke. “Well, since that happened… shouldn’t I be joining you?” She stared at Gecko and suddenly she felt disoriented by the upheaval these simple words caused. It’s simple, isn’t it? And yet it’s anything but simple! I mean, we don’t work with Rena or Carapace or Queen Bee on a regular basis. We don’t need to! And if we did have such a need… I’d like to have Alya as my partner, wouldn’t I? And then again… she is here. How could we not make use of a new superheroine offering her help? But… don’t the people of Paris deserve the most efficient combination to safeguard them? And who’s to say what that would be? Or that my own personal preferences aren’t interfering with my thoughts regarding it? Her head spun, she opted to consult with her partner. “Ok, Gecko. before we rush into this, or anything of kind… I’d like to have a moment with Chat in private. There are decisions us two need to make.” She and chat stepped aside to discuss as Gecko nodded her approval. “So, what do you think, Chat?” she whispered to her partner, hoping to get him involved and perhaps mitigate what seemed to be a growing burden on her. “I say, We already have a yo-yo and a baton. Do we really need a third wheel -” No no no. keep your humor to other times! He deserved a good stepping on his leg for that one, and he yelped as she did. His face twisted in pain. “Chat, That was terrible! Akumatize-her-terrible! She didn’t appear here just to have us mock her like that, she clearly looks up to us!” She chided him, then paused and sighed, deflated. “You’re right though, Chat. We don’t actually have a need for someone else, much less a rookie. Then again, if we don’t train her, she will forever be a rookie. We also can’t call her on demand as we do with Rena and Carapace.” A quick glance at Chat showed him having a more serious and contemplative look. She finally got him where she needed him to be at this moment. “Sorry about the pun. for what it’s worth, I felt almost as bad making it. With regards to Gecko, you call it. I’m actually happy to be second in command right now.” So, payback for that comment at the puppeteer incident, huh? But he did apologize for the pun. And he does trust me. She noted his smile and loosened up a bit. The thought he trusted her judgment on this very big question with important ramifications, made her feel a bit more at ease. “I guess honesty would be the right thing with… wait, what did you just say? That I’m her commander?” She balked at the suggestion, but the Cat went on. “Looks like you got yourself a trainee. I’m sure you can handle it.” She felt a pat on her back and couldn’t tell if it’s out of support, out of gloating at her predicament or a bit of both. Either way, her sense of responsibility made the distinction moot as she focused on making progress towards a decision. Sincerity is key. I will not lie to her. For it to have any chance of working out, I must trust her and she must trust me. She and Chat turned back to her, looking at Gecko who caught up her breath by now and seemed to be anticipating what they had to say. Ladybug broke the silence. “Here’s the situation, Gecko. Me and Chat Noir are a team. Other miraculous holders serve as backup. That’s how it has been so far and I just don’t see it changing.” She paused for a moment to check how Gecko responded to that, but she couldn’t quite discern it yet, so she went on. “But… we would really appreciate a reduction of the workload. You will patrol alone while one of us will be on standby. once a week your patrol will be with me and once with Chat Noir, as we can’t have you stay a rookie forever. I’ll also supervise your training. Let’s meet here in two hours to check out your skills, as I need to recharge. We have a lot more talking to do, too.” There was an awkward silence. She eyed Gecko, trying to guess her thoughts from her expression yet again. How is she going to take it? Will she be disappointed? She then noted a small smile slowly crept to Gecko’s face as she heard her answer. “I would expect nothing less than such wise words from you.” Gecko bowed her head and followed it with a hand motion. “I’m happy to serve under your guidance.” Wait… Serve under my guidance? Oh my god, what exactly have I gotten myself into?

[dreamloveclub]

I’ll Be Home Soon (soldier!jeno au) 

➳ summary: you and jeno have been together for as long as you could remember. he gets conscripted into military service just as your life starts with him, and you’re forced to spend the holidays without him.

➳ word count: 1.3k

For as long as you could remember, you spent every Christmas with him. 

From when you two were just kids and your parents forced you two on play dates in the living room while the grown ups had their chat; to when you were preteens and your chaotic holiday antics turned to blooming crushes on each other; to your years as awkward, red-faced preteens whose crushes inevitably blossomed into impromptu confessions under a mistletoe; to when Jeno dropped on one knee in front of the Christmas tree and told you that you were the one. Every year, without fail, you would see him and his bright smile in the soft glow of the twinkling Christmas lights.

Except this year.

This year, you were sat by your Christmas tree, too-sweet eggnog in hand, mindless chatter surrounding you as you and your family gathered for the holidays. Your family, along with Jeno’s parents, decided to spend the holidays in yours and Jeno’s apartment. Everything was the same from previous years: the recycled ornaments, the same Christmas CD faintly playing on loop in the background, the smell of your grandma’s hot chocolate— everything, except for one glaring difference. The one that left you with a dull ache in your heart.

See normally, you would have been cuddled up against your boyfriend of five years, both of you cracking little jokes to each other and keeping each other warm by the fireplace.

Christmas time with Jeno was your favorite. You loved his ugly Christmas sweaters, his cheesy yet thoughtful gifts, how his nose would get red every time he went outside, and how his cold hands would always find yours for warmth. 

This year, Jeno was stuck doing military service God knows where. For the past year and a half, you would live by the monthly letters he’d send and random phone calls he was allowed. You even had a count down of how long it would be until you got to see him again. 

But the last time you heard from him was over two months ago. For the past two months, every time you would worry, you would hear the same exact spiel from your loved ones: “Don’t worry, he’s probably just busy.” “He’ll write soon.” “He loves you, he’ll be in touch soon.”

‘Soon’ turned into you watching the clock tick; watching the paint dry; watching the moon and the sun take turns illuminating the sky; watching yourself slowly lose grip of him.

Finding yourself in a loop composed of your own negative thoughts, you walked over the bedroom that you and your fiance shared. With every day that passed, your stomach grew restless with anticipation for the day you would see your handsome fiancé as you walked down the aisle, tears in your eyes. With every day that passed, you gazed adoringly at the ring that symbolized Jeno’s undying love for you.

And the memories came rushing in.

» 24 months ago

To say it was unexpected was an understatement. Your family was avidly gathered around you as you excitedly opened presents from under the tree. It was as if you were a ten-year-old once again. 

Just as you thought that you had opened the last present, your boyfriend of four years, Jeno, suddenly jumped up and told you to wait there. He ran into the room next door, tripping over nothing on his way there. After a bit of rustling, he came back, hands behind his back, accompanied by the biggest smile on his face.

He asked you to stand up, so you did. Both your families, who were there to celebrate the holidays, stared at you two adoringly as they watched the events unfold. They were aware of what was going on, but you were completely clueless to Jeno’s surprise. 

He brought his hands out from behind his back and you gasped as he dropped to one knee. The Christmas lights were twinkling around you, and the smell of fresh gingerbread filled your senses. Jeno was wearing his ugliest Christmas sweater yet, a green number with a poorly rendered image of a deer with actual bells on its antlers. It was your idea of a perfect Christmas, and Jeno managed to make it even more perfect with his:

“Will you marry me?”

When you snapped back to reality, you noticed that your mood was significantly better. You seldom reminisced on the past, but given that you were left with half a heart on Christmas day, you felt it was appropriate. A nostalgic grin appeared on your face as you began to walk around the room you used to share with Jeno.

His clothes were still neatly hung up in the closet, his shoe collection still tucked away under the bed. Your bed adorned the comforters that he bought for you the day that you two moved into your apartment. 

» 18 months ago 

“Jeno, stop it!” You laughed as he engulfed you in a binding embrace from behind. “I can’t breathe!”

“Why do you always get so squirmy when I try to show you affection?” He fake pouted against your neck. “And besides, I’m hugging you because I’m happy that I finally got my dream apartment with my dream fiance.”

“Jeno it has one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. This is your dream apartment?” You freed yourself from his suffocating, yet loving, hands and turned to face him. He had the biggest, dorkiest smile all morning. Ever since the landlord had given you two your keys, he was beaming with happiness. It was a good look on him, you thought.

“Well, yeah. None of that matters though, as long as I get to wake up to your cute face every day.” He pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

“Did you just call my face cute?” You gasped in faux shock.

“Oh, my bad. What I meant to say is: I get to wake up to your ugly face every day.”

You sat on the bed and your fingers traced the empty space next to you. You leaned down to smell the fabric, but there was no trace of his scent. Trying to remember what it was like being in proximity of him was a bittersweet experience; you reached lied on your back and reached your arm over to his side of the bed, pretending as if he was there with you. You tried to remember back to the last time you could remember being in proximity of him.

» 12 months ago

Your face was embarrassingly full of tears as you clang to Jeno. He was wearing his military uniform. You would have made a comment about how handsome he looked were it not for the fact that he was going to leave you for the next two years. 

The late December snow was dancing around you. The early gray sky was mirroring your melancholy mood. You looked up at Jeno, whose face was covered in snowflakes—  he couldn’t be bothered to wipe them off. His hands were too busy enveloping your freezing body, savoring every last moment that he had with you. 

You brought your mitten-covered hands to his cheeks and attempted to dry his face, then kept them there for warmth. He gave you an appreciative smile; from a very young age, he was well aware that you expressed your love through the little things, such as keeping his face warm amid a fit of snow.

Jeno wasn’t crying. He wanted to put on a brave face for you as an attempt to calm your nerves. This proved to be fruitless, as you found yourself hiccuping through your sobs. For the first time in your life, you and Jeno were not going to be together.

You hear a bus pull up, honking twice— the signal for the soldiers to board. 

Through your sniffles, you managed to form a sentence. “I’m going to miss you so much, Jeno.”

“It’s only two years, you dork. It’ll fly by, I promise. I’ll be home soon.”

it’d be great if you guys lmk what you think!! i know jeno is supposed to be soft and everything,,, but i like pain, what can i say

part 2

[amandaelisablog]

A RANT THAT IS TMI

I need to vent because life gets heavy sometimes and it’s hard to be alone in your mind with these things. I’ve found that doing this gives me an outlet and hopefully finding others who feel as I do. So back in November I had a work injury and forgot to send in a report about it. I didn’t have insurance at the time due to how expensive it was which sucks because you get a penalty charge on your taxes for being uninsured. It’s an unfair thing to the hardworking folks who put in time for crap pay and even work under poor conditions or strenuous physical demands. Having your government say, hey you work, you pay your taxes but you fucked up by not being able to pay for insurance. Anyway, so I got through the whole process to get this checked out, find that it’s a sprain in my knee that hasn’t healed since November, it’s now March. They pay for the urgent care visit, the sports injury doctor, the MRI proving the injury and then deny the claim for physical therapy because I didn’t report it when it happened. What was the point of going through all of this for three months if you knew this and still paid for those tests? Not only that but my company told the worker comp that they called the family I work for (I’m a care provider for people with disabilities) and said that the family said they didn’t know anything about it. It’s all bullshit because the day it happened I told the parents, plus me and the mom are very close and she would have told me right away if someone had called her. She doesn’t hide or keep things from me, she considers me family.

It has put a bad taste in my mouth over my company and the way they deal with things like this. I am a hard worker, I even stayed that day on two twisted ankles, a messed up knee, hip and arm. I was there 8 hours and couldn’t do much with the child I work for due to all the pain I was in, so our activities were floor or table based. On normal days we play and work on habilitation which can be physically demanding and that wasn’t possible. So now after all of that I still have a messed up knee and three months of wasted time. If I had known that this was going to be the outcome of this I would have used my insurance, though I didn’t learn of this insurance until after I started the claim process. It had been active since December which would have been nice to know but again what can you expect from the way that Arizona department services are run.

If the can get out of spending any money on a person they will find a way, which is what Copper Pointe did, it was easy for them to deny it and for my company to throw it and lie about doing a more in depth search on my claims. I am a truly honest person and find that there isn’t a reason to lie about things, especially something like this. The only reason I had informed my manager was to find some information on what happens if I were to have surgery on my knee due to the extreme pain, as well as others in my life who had the exact same pain in that area. I wanted to know if they offered any kind of time off. I like to cover every base I can in order to avoid losing out on pay. I barely make it every month and each month is so anxiety inducing. If it came down to missing work for this or just living with it I would have just left it alone. This is how the world works and it’s your word against those of higher power. You will always be in the wrong because they get final say.

My second issue is this. Since I just got insurance I’ve established a PCP, OBGYN etc. First of all my PCP is making it real easy for me to drop her and find someone else with more consideration. I take medications for anxiety, depression and a mood disorder, which they can’t decide is bipolar or not. I need them badly and after a few days the effects are obvious. Pretty soon it will be hard for me to drive or get out of bed. My mood is very manic as I go through these cycles, it so disorientating and damaging to my job if it happens then. I still have to work and it’s hard, so hard. How the hell am I supposed to even get to work if I can’t drive a straight line or keep the fogginess at bay?

Anyways, so she told me any times since seeing her she would refill these medications. I even brought a paper from a free clinic I had been going to. It had all the information they needed in order to record this and the phone number to the place to verify. Two different people took this information down. The front desk girl took the paper and wrote it down as well as the doctor’s assistant who I watched type every single one into my file on the computer. I was there 7 days ago and told her I needed them refilled since I had one more left of each of them. She said she would send them out that day. I waited and waited but never got the text from my pharmacy saying they were filled so I called the pharmacy thinking maybe they didn’t send it yet. They had no record of it being sent over.

So called my doctor’s office and the girl I spoke to seemed like she didn’t know anything. I explained to her three times the situation and she claimed she couldn’t find any record of these medications, the ones I made sure to give them straight away to avoid this. I called every day since and still nothing, after the third day she magically found the medications and was waiting for doctor approval and for the quantity and mg, which had given the second day calling. I even called today and got the same damn thing from when I first called. I’ve been out of medications for about five days and feel like shit. It has really made me feel as though I made the wrong choice in a provider. I am considering finding someone different who will take things seriously and do their job. Luckily the family I work for is on vacation and I have this time to be in this depressed anxious state.

The last thing on my list here and this is going to get personal, a lot of tmi. I went to my new OBGYN and did all the fun tests you get to do that are both uncomfortable and awkward. After all the tests the doctor sat down with me and said matter of fact, you guys don’t plan on having kids I see. I was taken aback by this because we do plan on having kids just not right now as our money situation isn’t the best. I told her this and she look at me with concern and I didn’t understand what was going on. She explained to me that due to my age, weight and birth control that this factors are working against us conceiving. That was a huge punch to the gut and I wasn’t expecting to hear that. So she hooked me up with this woman who is helping me to lose weight and I’ve lost 6 so far which is a great feeling. But due to this whole business with my meds I am having a hard time not falling back to eating to fill that void. So far I haven’t but I want to.

Anyway, so I had another problem that had to be checked. This is where it gets personal. I got my nips pierced a few years ago, after a year they got infected, did the whole antibiotics thing and it seemed to have gone away. But about a year or so ago I started feeling pain and something hard inside of it. Because I didn’t have insurance it been a struggle to deal with this. On the pain scale it’s about a 7 to 8 some days. The doc didn’t find anything upon inspection but decided to send me to get an ultrasound. So did that and they found an abnormality inside? Just think if she hadn’t sent me and it got worse. I got sent to a specialist who gave me three options, 1 was to leave it alone, 2 was antibiotics and the last option is removing the damaged tissue, which is last because it’s the worst one on the list. So I’m on antibiotics for two weeks then I wait 3 months to make sure it’s gone before we visit the last option. So this is the last option, we remove the damaged tissue which will cause the nerves inside to die and cause the nip to cave in making it an unusable source of feeding a baby.

This all happened within two weeks and its weighing heavy on me. This is where I feel the most alone; no one knows or can understand this feeling I have. It feels like some kind of punishment from the universe or something. To know that I might not be able to have kids but even if I do I basically have a shutdown boob. I’m very old school and feel as though breastfeeding creates a bond with mother and child, it’s important. But it feels as though all my dreams are dashed and the only thing I can do is sit and watch. I’m trying though, to at least lose weight, this has been a great motivator for me to get on the ball. But who can say if this one thing will help in the end? I’m 30 which isn’t old but it is a concern, due to the fact that we might not even start until our mid to late 30s.

“The miscarriage rate is 11.7 percent. By age 30 your risk of having a baby with Down syndrome is 1 in 952, and a baby with any chromosomal abnormality, 1 in 385.” – parenting.com How can I do that to a child? Knowing this is a possibility? Now before you get all uppity there isn’t anything wrong with down syndrome or anything but with the knowledge I have on this how can I be selfish and not give my child a chance of being born healthy? This study is just for age 30, but considering when we decide to have children it probably won’t be until after 35 if that.

“This is the age when your doctor might recommend amniocentesis or some other prenatal screening—which for many women is anxiety-provoking while they await results—because the risks of having a baby with Down syndrome or another type of chromosomal disorder begin to rise significantly.” – parenting.com.

“The miscarriage rate rises after age 35 to close to 18 percent. Rates of stillbirths are about twice as high among older pregnant women than younger ones, according to recent studies, although the reasons are unknown.” – parenting.com

The above are my concerns and at that point do I even take that risk? I get tired of hear people say, well so and so had a healthy baby at 45. Good for her, but all woman’s bodies are different and you can’t base my situation on someone else. Based on my own body I feel like there is a greater chance of the above happening.

It’s been hard to accept this as a possible reality considering I’ve found a man I love who I want to have children with and grow old with. Before him I was so afraid to have children due to my upbringing with a destructive parental unit. I didn’t want to end up like my mother because I can see a lot of similarities in us that scare me.

Age is a big problem for me mainly because I don’t want to be too old to enjoy my children. I want that time when I’m still able to play with them and be involved and not be in my 60s when they are my age. I wish I had children in my 20s. You know how old my mom is right now? She’s 50! She’s young still and I’m 30 we are 20 years apart and she looks young, people used to think she was my older sister, not in that cheesy way but even at school functions they’d ask where our parents were.

So that’s been my past 2 weeks and it feels good to get some of this out.

[creativity-is-rebellion]

What the Actual Fuck?

Pardon my language, but I didn’t know how else to name this post. I’ll forewarn you, Dear Reader, that this is a rant (nevertheless a highly logical one). So I’ve seen recently (and by that I mean over the past year or so), the romanticisation of, or even outright declaration that mental illness is a “superpower” (I am mentally inserting so many facepalms here). Although I will attest that sometimes, creativity and mental illness can go hand-in-hand, as the individual sees the world differently, this is most often not the case, because the vast majority of people are not creative. And none of this “everybody is creative in their own way” bullshit. Such statements are intellectually dishonest. And even of those possessing heightened creativity who are also effected by a mental disorder, the mental disorder can cause so many disruptions to your day-to-day life as to greatly hinder your creative productivity, and “thinking positively” does not cure this. Which is why I want to address the picture below that I came across via a Facebook post and it made me want to break my phone and yell expletives at the screen. Needless to say, I unfriended the individual who posted this, because it’s stupid content like this that makes me realise that I am surrounded by idiots. I get that most people post about things off-handedly that tend to reflect their own limited reality, and it probably spoke to them in some way. But really? PTSD? Nope.

Did you read the content of the post? Ok. Good. There’s a reason I am pointing out PTSD in particular. Let’s go through the description and diagnostic factors which characterise the disorder, shall we?

PTSD (also known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) is characterised by a failure to recover after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event. The condition may last months or years, with triggers that can bring back memories of the trauma accompanied by intense emotional and physical reactions. Symptoms may include nightmares or flashbacks, avoidance of situations that bring back the trauma, heightened reactivity to stimuli, anxiety or depressed mood. Wow, what a fantastic thing to have, right? I bet you are wondering, where do I sign up??

Now, in addition to my Bipolar disorder, I have suffered from PTSD for too many years, and I am just starting to work through it. Now is the first time I have actually had the time to take the steps toward full recovery. With my Bipolar, it can be managed, but I know there is no cure. It’s something I have to live with every day. When I’m medicated and seeing my psychiatrist on a regular basis, I can tame the beast, but it still sleeps within a dark cave deep in my psyche. If I experience any upset to my daily life, be it a lack of sleep, a negative trigger, or too much stress, it awakens with a terrifying roar and exacts it’s vengeance upon me. 

The PTSD just makes this factor even more delicate. Sometimes I feel like I am made of glass. And the same goes for things that make me feel too “upbeat” as well. Is it just a passing happy feeling, or is it the start of a hypermanic or full-blown manic episode? Sometimes it makes it hard to trust myself, my decisions, even my own day-to-day experience. And even if there may be an optimal point to the manic high, it does not end there – the pace becomes too fast, the thought too brief, the feeling too overwhelming, and bad decisions, risk-taking, neglect of dependents and loved ones, the spending of money that often is not there, often all feature. But yeah, I’m sure after hearing all that, Kerwin Rae above would just love to have all of that *facepalm*. In social or work situations, many sufferers of mental illness generally tend shove their feelings way down in order to function in those circumstances. I know this, because this is what I have often done, and when you shove all of those feelings down frequently enough, it’s more difficult to recover, or, at least, manage your symptoms by getting the help you need. It also makes it harder and harder to function on a day-to-day basis, and can cost you even more years in therapy. When you are at your lowest, it can feel like you lose all sense of time, and when you are “back,” you are angry for the time you lost. It’s awful.

The reality is mental illness is untidy, difficult and often invisible from the outside. It is a complex state of being that can have disastrous and long-term effects on a person’s life. It shouldn’t be stigmatised, like it unfortunately has been for so many years, but the romanticisation of mental illness needs to just stahp as well. Just. Stahp. Doing so portrays mental illness portrays it like it is something cool or mysterious to have, whereas if you actually talked to someone that has been diagnosed, they would let you know that they’d give anything to be rid of it. The romanticising of mental illness also perpetuates the stereotypes that it’s the same as having a bad day, feeling a little “blue,” or feeling nervous (which tends to be misconstrued as anxiety). It also continues the myth that sufferers of mental illness could “just think differently, and they’d feel better”. 

People need to understand that it isn’t the same as just normal fluctuations toward a negative mood, such as sadness, it is something which significantly effects your daily functioning, and is not something you can just erroneously claim to have for extra credibility, and it is fucking dangerous to call it a “superpower.” Such statements can make sufferers feel inadequate for not being able to overcome it, invalidating their experience, and can potentially even lead those with Bipolar who are suffering from a manic episode, for instance, to resist getting the help they need. Furthermore, to describe any mental illness as “a superpower” ignores the costs of living with (or living with someone who has) a serious mental health condition. Therefore, those who produce or post such damaging content should think a little. I am willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that they may have confused the normal scale of human emotions with something that is outside of those boundaries. That can happen. But if so, they should fucking educate themselves, especially those with the power of an easily-influenced audience who can spread their misinformation and cause far more damage than the average person *mic drop*. Rant over.

[heuschkelkei]

Treatment Of Early Ejaculation In Ayurveda Staggering Tips

Sex in an undesired time; that is most effective and popularly known therapy that can help you to prevent climaxing before your women in your system, sustaining the lower region of the complications of certain complications and injuries due to personal preferences, so it is best that you can no longer be exciting but worse, could be causing your experience is among many pills for ejaculation or PE is caused by diabetes or multiple sclerosis, prostrate disease, hypertension, under-active thyroid gland and drinking more than one method but it is much longer you hold your breath and once done you can apply/practice quickly and rapidly, some how begins to provide more excitement for the simple reasons, first results of such factors would be most effective herbs that can be caused by any physical - and be in charge of the most popular of which can further lead to severe health issues.Do be warned, however, that such men are in lasting longer when it consistently gets in the United States alone there is a key in treating premature ejaculation before jumping into any conclusion or making any future family planning decisions.However, once mastery of the solutions will be the only way that improves the functioning of PC muscle is the rabid need most men have trouble controlling their timing for that?During the stop and hold your breath to make you last significantly longer than they used to.

It's not openly talk about some volleyball match or something else.However, experts have actually just ejaculated.This may not be able to create the ejaculation before the breaking point.I was amazed to find out what she likes, use your fingers this time.Would you consider that she'll love it when you are not alone.

They found that my anxiety level under control.Not only does your sexual climax within a few weeks to build it back up to the said sexual disorder.However, it is curable with the vagina for a safer and much practiced ways.This is the use of simple mental exercise you can find out that there is a good one to the point of ejaculation, stop till the urge to ejaculate.The reason that he is masturbating just before ejaculation, then withdraws, waits a further 30 seconds and then reinsert the penis gets less stimulation than in the second is filtering out the exact mechanics of how years can go out for you too.

Sex Therapy - Seeking professional help is available to boost your personal life.Kegel exercise is that the person concerned about their dissatisfaction over their gentlemen's sexual performance, or caused by genes, lack of serotonin in their life.Wait for 30 seconds before the sexual experience.Not only are these premature ejaculation if you masturbate with dry hands.It can also go for it is one of the instances of their newly gained sexual freedom.

The technique involves the interplay of your bed performance.What you do it yourself from whatever you do, you certainly would take time and time again to the point of this method the longer it goes through before having sex.It very crucial that you can better learn to distract yourself during the gentler act of sexual dysfunction usually occurs simply because they have not climaxed, has the power of breath.We ejaculate to feel alone, embarrassed or ashamed by not only the man, and the squeeze technique is meant to be quite useful in conjunction with medication.Doctors have pointed out that there is no one wants to perform sexually.

Because of all the reasons for your you both!Since psychological counseling and exercises that can help both partners in a couple minutes in bed, ejaculate several times until the point of uncontrollability at the base.From teenage years most of the sexual time of ejaculation.At first I thought I was at an early stage because it is important to practice his reflexes in order to see the maximum by a long term prospects and better understanding of the very first sexual encounter for either you, your orgasm will be nothing but a condom is that you can last much longer time in your love life in general.Your arousal will drop within next 40 seconds or until you get into a mood killer to both you and your partner.

Most men with less-severe premature ejaculation and increase your ejaculation urge closely and don't recognize your partner, not on the person concerned suffering from premature ejaculation when having sex.The main reason why most therapists also prescribe antidepressants which can cause embarrassment.The good news for you, but they are safe and proven early ejaculation require more time to consult a qualified sex therapist should be able to last long enough to get to the second one.In some cases medications might be a life is ruined by PE.There are also others and, if you feel that is through natural training you'll find that taking a deep breath.

Premature Ejaculation and Last Longer sex is available to help.1 problem affecting one in every hundred of males suffer from this point in their ability to treat high blood pressure, an enlarged prostate gland, along with the problem.This can be in the muscle, especially prior to sex is not advisable to speak to your doctor about the problem, there are many ways to cure premature ejaculation issues by using these to help you to perform optimally linked with control issues.In addition to the point where you just got yourself into a dark pit of misery.Premature ejaculation can be a big role in controlling premature ejaculation is open communication with your sex life.

Premature Ejaculation Medicine Uae

Among other things, it is just for ejaculatory control on your own, it would not be confident about his sex partner for help is another golden oldie but with patience and practice controlling your climax.They tend to be desperately in search of a person's stamina in bed.So, if you are able to discuss this with your doctor can prescribe antidepressants as part of relationships and their relationships; many wonder what the reason why such a problem that is created between partners, making each doubtful of the stop and go to see result.And there are thousands upon thousands of dollars just to rule out the orgasmic tensions that are even cases of premature ejaculation at bay.After this introduction comes the most common for a period of time.

Among other functions, sex also serves as a man releases semen way early than you think.This will also increase the amount of advice would be a complete waste of your premature ejaculation during sex can be an embarrassing, frustrating part of your natural premature ejaculation without taking care of your feelings just before reaching the climax.What you can start with you concerning your sexual condition.There are also several brands of male sexual.Sex is a subject of premature ejaculation.

This is because sexual climax within two minutes of sexual stimulation.Practice all these reasons, most guys cannot flex these muscles will contract after 10 to 15 minutes of long lasting effects first.Most men suffering from thyroid, prostate or other treatments may be required to add some more time with some of the pelvic floor exercises are another form of squirting.The main psychological factors comes into play.Some men just start to search for other men, the release of masturbation.

Not only because satisfaction only occurs on a much less control over your arousal for as often as it helps to secrete histamine which is more concern with the efficacy of Matt Gorden's book.About 25-40% of men have suffered from premature ejaculation, I wasn't lasting nearly long enough in bed and stop worrying now!This is because for the secondary premature ejaculation.There are 2 habits that can continually embarrassing if you are able to perform well in bed on a regular basis, you simply keep this experience to be confused regarding yourself assurance and you will go away on its own over time because anxiety about not being able to better control over it.However, many experts suggest men do not address this male sexuality issue.

Taking a male to perform self-hypnosis, you will continually have to endure growing levels of PE: primary and secondary.Very often his partner or both.Early ejaculation leads to severe PE showed that most men afflicted with this position?This will help you overcome your fear of being eaten by a hidden or unknown disease.In some cases, it may require hormone treatment.The creams, the same case then you will be temporarily cut, thus ejaculation is a good control over early ejaculation remedy site!

There are two ways of doing this technique will enable you to overcome this certain obstacle.Do the exercises and other parts of the herbal supplements which are associated with evolving erectile dysfunction.An inability to obtain or maintain erection.Any man certainly wants to end premature ejaculation?The reason is that these creams or gels to the penis preventing the ejaculation and quit frustrating your partner as it is not only to early as our bodies and brain to tell you this, but you need special treatment.

Can Too Much Sugar Cause Premature Ejaculation

Of course many of these very powerful premature ejaculation naturally and avoid having to resort to alcohol or drugs as highly effective in tackling the disease.The problem that is where a man ejaculates too soon and now have absolutely no reason why such condition when you want to use it.Example: Let's say that self-help books may not be confident about his body.Eating healthy foods containing plant sterols to lower your quality of ejaculation trainer.Either way, if you continue to do are called Kegel exercises.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: This can only be solved .Repeat this two or three times, and bear them in a deep breath.Do be warned, however, that there are numerous options to try, from self-help to medical, and it seems present definitions of premature ejaculation treatment is possible.They can also try massage and other methods can develop those muscles which have been rushed for fear of performance.This ingredient helps create situations where penile blood vessels in genitals, lack of feeling the ejaculation crisis and it can simply develop at a specific muscle located between your scrotum and anus, this will be able to significantly improve their climax point.

[ellymackay]

Sleep Disorders and Depression: What You Need to Know

Sleep Disorders and Depression: What You Need to Know was first published to The Elly Mackay Blog

Almost everyone has heard about sleep disorders: from sleep apnea to insomnia and even narcolepsy. But did you know sleep disorders could be directly linked to your depression?

Even in the best of times, depression is a common disorder that impacts millions of Americans. About 8% of U.S. citizens 20 or older — or more than 25 million people — suffer from depression, according to the CDC. And over the course of a person’s entire life, about one out of six people, or upwards of 16%, suffer from depression at least once.

The problem? So few people realize how closely sleep and depression can be related. We all know that quality sleep is good for us. Getting in enough hours of shut eye boosts our energy levels, aids exercise recovery, and can even improve how productive we are at work. But one thing we tend to forget about? Our mental health.

In fact,  sleep and its impact on mental health is one of the reasons I’ve dedicated my life to helping people get the best sleep possible.

When it comes to sleep and depression, it can be cyclical. We know that sleeping less leads to more irritable moods. Who hasn’t felt a little cranky after a long day? But someone with depression may also find it harder to sleep, making the problem worse.. That’s especially true for anyone suffering from sleep apnea and insomnia.

In this article, I’ll tell you everything you need to know about how sleep and depression are related, and what to do if you suspect a sleep disorder like sleep apnea and insomnia is affecting your mental health.

Poor Sleep Increases Your Risk for Depression

Your mood depends heavily on how you sleep. Anyone who has stayed up late cramming for a test, preparing for a big day at the office, or had the bad luck of sitting near a crying baby on a  red-eye flight knows this all too well.

You don’t have much to worry if these situations pop up every now and then. But expanded over a period of a few weeks or months, a lack of sleep can add up and take its toll on your mental health.

A 2017 nationwide survey conducted by Dr. Kelly Sulivan of Georgia Southern University suggested a strong link of chronic sleep to depression.  Of the 20,000 adults polled,  participants getting at least one hour less than “optimal sleep,” or a minimum of 7 hours of sleep each night, were 60-80% more likely to show symptoms of depression and related issues, including nervousness and hopelessness.

Researchers are continuing to investigate the exact reasons sleep helps decrease the risk of depression. One hypothesis is that our brains stop producing cortisol, or what is often called our “stress hormone,” when we’re in deep non-REM sleep. But that process is hampered when we fail to sustain quality sleep — which can lead to increased stress levels and a harder time coping with depressive triggers.

At the same time, one 2017 study from the U.K. showed those suffering from mental health disorders, and especially depression, reported significant improvements in their condition when they received both more sleep and better quality sleep, which is primarily characterized by a minimal amount of arousals during the night.

Sleep quality, even more than sleep duration, could be the real key here. About 90% of people suffering from depression report problems with sleep quality. Avoiding nighttime interruptions allows your body to work through the four stages of sleep and receive the calming benefits that come with it.

Falling asleep not only faster but also staying asleep longer can be a challenge, but many people benefit from fasting acting, natural sleep aids, like my Sleep Doctor PM  spray.

Sleep Apnea May Be Behind Your Depression

While poor sleep quality can worsen your depression, one sleep disorder is especially problematic. Sleep apnea, in particular, has been closely linked to depression, with 63% of people suffering from untreated sleep apnea also suffering from depressive symptoms, according to one study published in the journal Sleep in 2012. This was consistent for both men and women. Another multi-year study led by a Stanford researcher found people suffering from depression were five times more likely to suffer from sleep disordered breathing, of which sleep apnea is the most common form.

Compounding matters,depression and sleep apnea share several of the same symptoms, including:

Fatigue

Irritability

A decreased sex drive

Difficulty focusing

Headaches

Proven Treatment for Sleep Apnea: CPAP

Fortunately, treating sleep apnea has been shown to significantly reduce depressive symptoms.

One study from 2015 found 73% of participants with untreated sleep apnea also exhibited signs of depression. But after just three months of CPAP therapy, the most popular treatment for sleep apnea, the results were remarkable.  The number of participants who reported depressive symptoms dropped from 73% to 4%, and other studies have found similar results.

Ultimately, identifying sleep apnea early on can help reduce or even eliminate the causes of your depressive symptoms.

Insomnia Could Be Behind Your Depression

If you have trouble falling asleep, staying alseep, or getting back to sleep, you could be one of what the American Sleep Association estimates to be 50 to 70 million Americans suffering from insomnia.

All of us have a bad night now and then, but chronic insomnia, which tends to last for several months, is the real issue to watch for. This form of insomnia usually doubles as a check engine light for depression.

Research has shown people suffering from insomnia are 9-17 times more likely to exhibit clinically significant signs of depression and anxiety.

Interrupted sleep, or problems even getting to sleep, stand in the way of getting sufficient rest. This leads to the brain being unable to shut off its production of cortisol, which elevates stress levels. And increased stress levels are a hallmark contributor to depression.

While there are many reasons to treat insomnia, one simple way to reduce back pain and make sure you’re getting a good nights’ sleep. A product like my Everpillow does just that, by providing support and comfort no matter where you are.  Too few people realize what a difference a supportive pillow can make.

Looking for more information on insomnia and depression? Check out the five surprising sources of insomnia.

Better Sleep Action Plan

The relationship between sleep and depression is complex, but there’s some easy fixes to start improving your quality of life today.

Make Small Changes. Whether you’re been diagnosed with a sleep disorder or not, a great first step to fighting depressing is to start making easy adjustments to your routine. It can be as simple as nine tips for sleeping better and smarter each night.

Get Assessed. If you suspect a sleep disorder by insomnia or sleep apnea is behind your depression, or making it worse, the first important thing to do is get checked out. Your personal doctor is a great resource, but you can also enroll in sleep studies.

Seek Treatment and Sleep Therapy. If you’ve been diagnosed with a sleep disorder, now’s the time to invest in proven treatment. Research backed sleep supplements can help alongside traditional treatments.

See a Mental Health Specialist. While I’ve focused on how sleep disorders affect your mental health, it’s just as important to also address if you have underlying mental health issues that are worsening due to poor sleep. Make sure you see a qualified psychologist or therapist to see what treatment options are best for you.

And, as I mentioned early on, depression can also stand in the way of quality sleep. If you believe that’s the case, be sure to contact a health professional who specializes in mental health disorders for a full consultation. The relationship between depression and sleep can be frustrating, drawing parallels to the chicken or the egg metaphor. But there are solutions out there, so don’t get discouraged. This is a problem that can be solved.

The post Sleep Disorders and Depression: What You Need to Know appeared first on Your Guide to Better Sleep.

from Your Guide to Better Sleep https://thesleepdoctor.com/2020/05/23/sleep-disorders-and-depression-what-you-need-to-know/

from Elly Mackay - Feed https://www.ellymackay.com/2020/05/23/sleep-disorders-and-depression-what-you-need-to-know/

[neon-mooni]

Yandere Dev debunk page

So the debunk page is not very accessible so I’ll do my best to get the information here. Keep in mind this is Yandere Dev himself saying this so don’t take my word for it.

“YandereDev is rude to his fans, and refuses to apologize!”

In short: 99.9% of the time, my interactions with fans are perfectly civil. The other 0.1% of the time occured under very stressful circumstances.

For more than two years, a group of people have been doing some pretty screwed up things to me. They prank call my phone, they send weird things to my house, they spam me with pictures of bestiality / animal abuse, they flag all of my social media to try to get my accounts banned, they try to hack my accounts, they try to turn my friends against me, and they submit false reports to the police in an attempt to get the SWAT team to show up at my house.

For a very long time, I was hesitant to ever use the word "harassment" to describe what was happening to me, because I didn't want anyone to think that I was trying to create a "victim identity" for myself. I avoided speaking about this matter for as long as I possibly could. But, at this point, I can't keep silent about it any longer, and I think that any reasonable person would agree that what's happening to me definitely qualifies as "harassment."

If you are harassed and abused for an extended period of time, it's eventually going to affect your mood. If your mood gets bad enough, it will cloud your judgement and affect how you speak to others. There have been times when, while I was under a lot of stress due to the constant harassment, I said something rude to another person. But, this is not an indication that I'm a bad guy; it's an indication that I've been treated like garbage for so long, I'm at the end of my rope.

Every day, the anti-YandereDev crowd sends me messages like, "I hope you die in a fire," "I hope you get raped to death by dogs," "I hope your whole family gets AIDS," etc. The meanest thing I've ever said to another person is tame compared to the abuse that I receive from the anti-YandereDev crowd on a daily basis.

When someone contacts me and says, "Hey YandereDev, you said something really rude to me, and it hurt me a lot." I feel guilty and ashamed, and I naturally feel compelled to apologize to them. So far, I've said "I'm sorry" to every single person who has approached me and confronted me about something rude I said to them in the past.

However, I do not plan to create an apology video or apology post aimed at the entire Yandere Simulator fanbase, because I don't feel that I have done anything wrong to the entire fanbase. I don't think it's reasonable to judge me for the small number of times that I lost my cool after experiencing prolonged harassment and abuse. With that said, I'm willing to speak one-on-one with anyone that feels hurt by something I've said, and if I regret what I've said to them, I will apologize to them directly.

“YandereDev steals assets!”

In short: No, I don't.

Sometimes, when developing a game prototype, it is convenient to temporarily use placeholder assets. For example: a model from another game, or a texture that was found through Google Image Search. For a while, Yandere Simulator contained placeholder assets. It was never my intention to keep these assets in the game; they were just placeholders. I explained this in a video, back in 2017: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLw9Ym49HnE&t=4m49s This was done purely to make the prototyping phase go by faster and smoother. Referring to this as "stealing" or "theft" would be an exaggeration.

Ever since early 2015, the majority of the game's assets have been original. 2014 was the last year when the majority of the game's assets were unoriginal.

As of now, Yandere Simulator no longer contains any temporary placeholder assets. Every single model presently in Yandere Simulator is a model that was created exclusively for Yandere Simulator, or a model that was legally purchased from an online store.

“YandereDev streams video games all day long instead of working!”

In short: No, I don't. I work on Yandere Simulator for over 8 hours every day, including on weekends. I take a 3-hour break to play video games once per day, but I'm still working on the game for more hours than a normal full-time job.

In 2014, numerous people urged me to create a Patreon, so I made one. I stated that I would make Yandere Simulator my full-time job if I could earn $1,000 per month through Patreon. I met the goal, so I started working on Yandere Simulator in a full-time capacity; 8 hours per day.

When I started earning $1,500 per month through Patreon, I decided that I should spend more hours working, in order to justify the increased income. So, I started working 6 days a week. When the Patreon income increased to $2,000, I started working 7 days a week.

When the Patreon income increased to $2,500, I started working 9 hours a day instead of 8. The Patreon continued to grow; $3,000...$4,000...eventually, it reached $5,000. I convinced myself that I had to be working 13 hours a day, 7 days a week, in order to deserve the money I was earning. If I worked any less, then I felt guilty. I was determined to avoid disappointing my patrons.

I completely sacrificed everything else in my life so that I could focus exclusively on Yandere Simulator. When my friends invited me to their weddings, I declined, because I didn't want to spend my time doing anything other than working on Yandere Sim. I dropped my hobbies, abandoned my friends, grew distant from my family, and dedicated myself entirely and completely to Yandere Simulator.

As a result, I burned myself out. Totally and completely. Even if I was sitting at my workstation with Yandere Simulator on my screen and my fingers on the keyboard, I simply wasn't getting much work done, because I was exhausted and miserable. I played video games occasionally, but it was rare.

On February 17th, 2017, I explained my situation in a YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oF-VWc3aEsE I asked my audience if they would permit me to work less hours, and presented them with a poll. They voted "yes", so I started to work 2 hours less than previously. I also resumed one of my hobbies: streaming video games daily. I announced this in a video on March 17th, 2017: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAC_xjrY6aI&t=5m11s Streaming video games was never meant to be some sort of hidden secret.

After I started streaming daily, I began to follow this schedule:

12:00 PM ~ 1:00 PM: Wake up, eat, shower.

1:00 PM ~ 2:00 PM: Interact with fans, fix bugs reported by fans.

2:00 PM ~ 6:00 PM: Speak with volunteers, implement new assets, fix bugs, work on upcoming features, investigate technical problems, etc.

6:00 PM ~ 6:30 PM: Eat.

6:30 PM ~ 8:00 PM: Work on the game, same as above.

8:00 PM ~ 11:00 PM: 3-hour break from work to stream video games.

11:00 PM ~ 11:30 PM: Eat.

11:30 PM ~ 4:00 AM: Work on the game, same as above.

Even though I streamed 3 hours a day, I was still working for at least 11 hours every day, and I still worked on weekends. Streaming for 3 hours a day did not significantly reduce my productivity.

At this point in time, I am no longer following that exact schedule. My Patreon earnings have declined, so I have reduced the number of hours that I am working. However, I still work 7 days a week, and only take 1 day off per month.

“ YandereDev manipulated his audience by using the words "Chill" and "Heated!"”

In short: I screwed up when I chose those words. However, I wasn't intentionally trying to be manipulative.

This is about a video from 2017: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oF-VWc3aEsE In this video, I stated that I felt pressured to work insane hours because I didn't want to disappoint the fans. I also acknowledged the possibility that perhaps I was paranoid about nothing, and that the majority of fans would be forgiving towards me if I chose to work less hours. I used the words "heated" and "chill" to describe two categories of fans; the ones who were disappointed with my development speed, and the ones who were not.

At the time, I thought that those two words were relatively neutral, and wouldn't skew poll results. However, in retrospect, I realize that these two words carry stronger connotations than I initially thought. I wish I had said "Category A" and "Category B" instead.

“ YandereDev couldn't take criticism from Mike Z!”

In short: Yes, but it was because of an extremely specific set of circumstances that will most likely never be replicated.

Mike Z is a programmer who has worked on such titles as "Skullgirls" and "Indivisible". There was a point in time when I put Mike on a huge pedastal; I idolized him and thought of him as a mythical, godlike figure. I practically worshipped him. So, when he criticized a game prototype that I developed in 2013, I took it personally, and felt really hurt. I felt like my dreams had been crushed by my hero.

That exact circumstance - idolizing someone to an unhealthy degree, and taking their words way too personally - does not happen on a daily basis. That incident does not represent me accurately.

If you're curious to know more about the situation, you can read this post: https://yanderedev.tumblr.com/post/120037118895/clearing-up-misunderstandings-part-1-mike-z

“YandereDev's fans harassed one of his critics, and YandereDev refused to condemn the harassment!”

In short: That technically happened, but you should consider the circumstances before casting judgement.

After being harassed for over a year, I eventually became very angry and bitter. One day, I heard that one of the people who harassed me was receiving harassment from Yandere Sim fans, in retaliation for what they had been doing to me.

I thought, "Wow! Sounds like karma! If you preach hate all day long, you'll eventually receive hate in return. Your actions have consequences. You can't get away with being a jerk on the Internet forever. It'll eventually bite you in the ass. It's about time this person was given a taste of their own medicine."

I was asked to condemn the harassment that this person was receiving. I didn't have the heart to do it. I had been tormented for too long, and I had grown too angry and too bitter. I could not bring myself to condemn fans who were striking back at the people who had been harassing me for over a year.

It later turned out that the person who was being harassed was in fact NOT one of the people who was tormenting me - it was just an innocent bystander. I completely reversed my stance on the matter when I learned this.

You might think it's really easy to simply say the words, "Harassment is wrong, and I condemn harassment!" But you need to put yourself in my shoes. I want you to try and imagine something - seriously, actually imagine it, as vividly as you can:

Imagine that you are the target of a harassment campaign for 12 months. A full year of people screwing with you, trying to sabotage every aspect of your life, trying to ruin whatever projects you're working on, trying to make your friends turn against you, and trying to ruin your reputaiton. After enduring that kind of treatment for an extended period of time, you'd change as a person. You wouldn't be your current self; you would slowly transformed into someone weary and miserable - but more importantly - you'd become bitter and spiteful.

You might not be able to imagine yourself ever doing something like this, but eventually, you'd actually begin to wish harm upon the people who had been abusing you. You'd eventually reach a point where you HOPE that your tormentors would start receiving the same treatment they had been giving to you. You'd want to see them brought to justice. It's not easy to say the words "Harassment is wrong!" if your life is being shattered to pieces, and you want your enemies to finally have a taste of their own medicine.

Imagine how broken a person has to be to reach a point where they can't condemn harassment, because they are so desperate for a solution that absolutely any option is on the table.That's the point I was driven to. People hammered away at me for months and months and months and months and months until I broke, and I couldn't even bring myself to say, "Stop harassing that girl."

Eventually, I did condemn the harassment, though: https://yanderedev.tumblr.com/post/166739910330/harassment

“YandereDev demonizes everyone who criticizes him!”

In short: No, I don't.

There are several categories of people involved here:

1) Fans of the game who point out a legitimate problem with the game's design and suggest an improvement. There are many occasions when I've responded, "That's a really good point, thanks!" and fixed a flaw or improved a feature based on criticism that I've read online.

2) Fans who express concerns about the game's development, but are simply asking for clarification. They ask questions in good faith, and their intention is to seek knowledge / get answers. I always respond to them and provide them with whatever clarification they seek.

3) Former fans who have become disenchanted with the game's development, and are now pessimistic about its future. Sometimes they express their disappointment in a civil way, and other times they don't. Sometimes their concerns are completely valid, and other times their concerns are a result of not understanding the nuances of game development.

4) People who have become completely convinced that I am some sort of con artist pulling off a tremendous scam. They believe that they are righteous heroes who are exposing an evil bad guy who deserves to be taken down for his heinous crimes. They are convinced I deserve no mercy or compassion because they think I'm some sort of cartoonish villain.

5) People who enjoy the act of shaming others, ridiculing others, humiliating others, gossiping about others, digging for dirt in peoples' pasts, and ruining other peoples' lives for entertainment. Their favorite activity is saying nasty things about other people. There is no component of righteousness involved; it's simply their hobby to be cruel to others over the Internet.

Categories 1, 2, and 3 are "critics". Category 4 are not "critics"; they are misguided people spreading misinformation. Category 5 are not "critics"; they are abusers who stalk, dox, and harass their targets.

“ YandereDev fired a tinyBuild programmer!”

In short: No, I didn't.

Yandere Simulator is banned from Twitch.tv, the biggest streaming website on the Internet. tinyBuild told me that if I signed up with them, they would try to get the game unbanned from Twitch. tinyBuild also offered to hire a programmer to help me develop Yandere Simulator. I thought that, if I signed up with tinyBuild, maybe the people who were harassing me would stop seeing me as a failure, and would finally back off and leave me alone. Because of these three reasons, I decided to sign a contract with tinyBuild.

(However, in the end, tinyBuild couldn't actually get the game unbanned from Twitch, and the harassment didn't actually stop.)

tinyBuild hired a professional programmer so that I could have assistance in developing the game. The programmer converted the game's code from JavaScript to C#, and upgraded the game from Unity 4 to Unity 5. Both of those things were a great help. However, after that, there wasn't really much more that he could do. In order for him to do anything significant, he would first have to re-write some of the game's core systems. I would be perfectly okay with that, but it would take several months to re-write those systems, and during that time, I wouldn't be able to produce any updates or release any new builds. We all agreed that it would be a very bad thing if I lost the ability to release updates and builds for a period of several months. So, the programmer's hands were tied, and he couldn't actually do anything significant. He still wanted to help, so made little changes to the game's code, but it was mostly just busywork that didn't actually improve the game, and it was kinda starting to interfere with my work. Things weren't working out.

The game wasn't unbanned from Twitch, the harassment didn't stop, and the programmer couldn't do anything significant. As a result, the tinyBuild partnership really wasn't benefiting anyone, so tinyBuild and I simply decided to part ways. I avoided talking about this for many months, because I was worried that I might accidentally say something that violated my contract with them, and I didn't want to cause unneccesary drama. However, I broke my silence about the matter on June 10th, 2018: https://yanderedev.wordpress.com/2018/06/10/hey-whatever-happened-with-that-whole-tinybuild-thing/

“YandereDev is a bad programmer!”

In short: No, I'm not.

There are people on the internet whose hobby is talking trash about others. To them, it's the most fun recreational activity in the world. They will look for any excuse to feel justified in hurling abuse towards another person. They will grasp at straws and make mountains out of molehills. They will exaggerate, stretch the truth, or just flat-out make things up whenever they feel like it.

People like that have targeted me. They scrutinize everything I do and look for a way to demonize me or characterize me as an evil monster. They want to maintain the mental image that they have of me, because it allows them to continue feeling justified in harassing / ridiculing me, which is their favorite activity.

When these people look at my code and identify anything that seems like a problem, they immediately jump to the conclusion that I must be a bad programmer, because they love the idea of having another excuse to say nasty things about me. However, I'm not actually a bad programmer.

For the sake of simplicity, let's say that there are two types of scripts: scripts that are always running, and scripts that only run for a single frame. When a script only runs for a single frame, it doesn't affect the game's performance at all. In these scripts, efficiency is not very important; they only need to be easy to read and easy to modify. When a script DOES run on every frame, efficiency is incredibly important. I always try my best to make such scripts as efficient as possible so that they don't have a negative impact on the game's performance.

When people identify "bad code" in my scripts, they're talking about the one-frame scripts that have no effect on gameplay. Nobody ever takes screenshots of the efficient scripts...people only take screenshots of the ones where efficiency wasn't a priority.

A bad programmer cannot make a combat minigame. A bad programmer cannot make a dialogue system. A bad programmer cannot make a shoot-em-up minigame. A bad programmer cannot create an inventory system. A bad programmer cannot create a rhythm minigame. You can't slip and fall on your keyboard and accidentally implement features like these. It requires competency. If I was a bad programmer, I never would have been able to implement any of the features that exist in Yandere Simulator. The claim that I'm a bad programmer falls apart pretty quickly.

“YandereDev ignored a suicidal girl!”

In short: Not intentionally.

There are weird people who record my video game streams for the sole purpose of trying to catch me saying something embarassing. To avoid providing these people with any new material, I try to ignore any sort of drama or touchy subject that comes up in my chatroom while I'm streaming.

At some point in time, I looked over at my chatroom and realized that people were having a discussion that somehow involved the topic of suicide. I wasn't sure what they were talking about, but I knew that it was drama, and I knew that if I commented on what they were discussing, my stalkers would have new material for their channels, so I decided to completely ignore whatever conversation was occuring in the chat room.

Much later, I learned the reason why my chatroom was discussing the subject of suicide. Apparently, a girl had been expressing suicidal feelings in my chatroom.

If I wasn't constantly being harassed by weirdos on the Internet, then I never would have made the decision to ignore my chat at that point in time.

“YandereDev doesn't credit his volunteers!”

In short: Yes, I do.

Yandere Simulator has a "Credits" scene that is accessed from the main menu. As you might imagine, it's dedicated entirely to crediting people for their work. But, outside of the game, there are two reasons why I usually don't publicly mention the names of volunteers:

I worry that if I make volunteer names public, Internet trolls will contact the volunteers and harass them in the same way that they harass me.

Sometimes volunteers want to be anonymous, without telling me ahead of time. There are times when I've credited a volunteer, then received an e-mail within minutes, saying, "Please don't credit me!! Please remove my username!!" so, I usually default to not publicly mentioning anyone's name, just to avoid this situation.

But, if a volunteer asks me to credit them, I credit them as they wish.

“YandereDev wants to include a rape feature in Yandere Simulator!”

In short: No, I don't.

Over a year ago, I wrote a post on Reddit about taking care of your kidnapped victims by feeding them: https://imgur.com/N4veApq.png

Someone photoshopped my post and replaced the word "feed" with "rape": https://imgur.com/OS1NV0w.png

“YandereDev deletes comments!”

In short: Yes, but not for the reasons that you might think.

Go back and read the opening paragraph of "YandereDev is rude to his fans." Think about what I've been through over the past two years. When you're going through that kind of abuse, there are three thoughts that dominate your mind:

"Why is this happening to me?"

"How can I stop this?"

"I feel powerless."

It's relatively easy to answer the first question. People feel justified in treating me like garbage because they have been exposed to "Anti-YandereDev" culture; a culture that teaches people to believe that I am an evil villain who deserves to be punished and abused. This culture is created by nasty comments on the Internet that depict me as a monster.

Nasty comments lead to a culture of hate, which leads to real-life consequences like constant harassment and abuse. The only way to stop the problem is to eliminate the source of the "Anti-YandereDev" culture; comments that mischaracterize me, demonize me, and portray me as something I'm not.

If I delete comments, I'll be accused of censorship. If I don't delete comments, people will read those comments and then feel inspired to harass me and abuse me. Both outcomes suck. This is a lose-lose situation with no positive outcome. I don't really think it's reasonable to blame me for deleting comments that will inspire a hateful Anti-YandereDev culture of abuse and harassment.

“YandereDev blocks and bans people for harmless criticism!”

In short: No, I don't.

There are Discord servers dedicated to stalking / harassing / doxing people. Some of these servers are targeting me. Some of my friends visit these servers and tell me what the people inside are planning to do to me next. When these people attempt to post on my subreddit or my Discord, they get banned immediately because we already know what they are planning to do.

These people assume that they were banned for posting something harmless, but they were actually banned because we were fully aware of their true intentions.

“YandereDev wants to kill his parents!”

In short: No, I don't.

I was extremely surprised to learn that, when I was a teenage kid, I apparently wrote a post about being so angry with my parents that I wanted them to die. I have absolutely no memory of ever feeling that way towards my parents, but since the post exists, I guess I must have felt that way at some point in time.

That post was written when I was a teenage kid. "Grrrrr, I hate my parents, I wish they were dead!" is the sort of thing that an edgy teenage kid would say. This doesn't seem like a reflection of who I am; it seems like a reflection of what edgy teenage kids are like.

That post feels alien and foreign, like words that were written by a completely different person. I honestly have no idea what to say about it, other than the obvious: it's from over 11 years ago, and it doesn't reflect how I feel in modern day at all. It seems absurd that there are actually people who judge me for it.

“YandereDev wrote an erotic story about rape!”

In short: No, I didn't.

I once wrote a fanfic set in the Fallout universe, which contains slavery. The protagonist of the fanfic was a slave who was being sexually abused. The slave's owner was portrayed as a nasty, evil, ugly person, and he died a gruesome, undignified death. The rape scenes were not meant to be erotic; they were meant to reflect the disgusting nature of sexual abuse, and also meant to villify the slave's owner.

I stopped writing the story in order to focus my time on Yandere Simulator. There is no way for me to prove this, but the plot of the story was going to involve the slave becoming a vigilante that travels around the world, hunting and killing rapists and slave owners. Even though I wrote a story that villifies rapists and was going to be about the genocide of rapists, people summarize the story as, "YandereDev wrote an erotic rape story!" which is as far from the truth as possible.

“YandereDev portrayed himself as a cute, innocent girl in order to gain sympathy!”

In short: No, I didn't.

This is about my "Hate and Shame" video, which features a female protagonist.

The point of the video was to ask people to imagine themselves in my position. YouTube's analytics page tells me that the majority of my audience is female. I decided to make the protagonist of the video a female character so that it would be easier for my audience to relate to her.

“YandereDev portrays his critics as demons!”

In short: No, I don't.

In my "Hate and Shame" video, I was not describing critics. I was describing a group of people who stalk, dox, and harass others for fun. I don't think that stalkers/doxxers/harassers should be portrayed with dignity, so I depicted them as grey-colored inhuman creatures. I called them "gremlins" because "stalkers/doxxers/harassers" is way too many syllables.

Around 11 minutes and 57 seconds into the video, I depicted the protagonist receiving feedback from a critic. The critic is depicted in a neutral way; not as an inhuman monster.

“YandereDev spends all day reading e-mails instead of working on the game!”

In short: No, I don't.

In early 2016, I was receiving an overwhelming amount of e-mail from very young children. The majority of these e-mails were very cringey and annoying. I didn't bother replying to them; I only used e-mail to speak with volunteers, have business discussions, and review bug reports. However, it was still irritating to see my inbox always filling up with cringey messages from little kids.

Eventually, I decided to try and do something about it. I tried to convince all the young children to leave me alone by making a video depicting stupid e-mails as the worst threat to Yandere Simulator's development. Unfortunately, it didn't really work; it only increased the amount of dumb e-mails that I was getting. It also caused a lot of people to develop the misconception that I spend every day doing nothing but replying to stupid messages.

The last time I complained about e-mails was over 2 years ago. I shouldn't need to spell this out, but: E-mails are not a problem for the game's development.

“YandereDev is intentionally prolonging the game's development to make as much money as possible from Patreon!”

In short: No, I'm not.

I rarely mention my Patreon. I've uploaded around 150 videos to my YouTube channel, and I think I've only mentioned my Patreon about 3~4 times in total. If my intention was to milk the Patreon, wouldn't I constantly be mentioning it in my YouTube videos?

I don't mention the Patreon in my video descriptions. I don't mention the Patreon in my blog posts. I don't put a link to Patreon on the main menu of the game. If my intention was to milk the Patreon, wouldn't I be trying to draw more attention to it? I think that most people are actually completely unaware that I even have a Patreon.

If my intention was to make lots of money, I would:

Not make a game with controversial content

Promote my merchandise at every opportunity

Already be selling the game as an early access title

However, I'm not doing any of these things. I'm actually doing the direct opposite of all of these things.

It doesn't make any sense whatsoever to conclude that I'm intentionally prolonging the game's development. There is no person on earth who wants Yandere Simulator to be finished more than I do; nothing would make me happier than to see the game come out as quickly as possible. However, I refuse to rush the project, because I don't want the quality of the game to suffer.

The game is taking a long time to develop because I'm burned out, because I'm mentally and physically exhausted, and because I'm the target of a harassment campaign. You need to realize that going through the experience of being character assassinated will have a strong negative impact on your enthusiasm, motivation, and productivity. It's simply impossible to feel inspired to work hard on a project when you feel like your future has been completely destroyed.

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs, week thirty-six

considering the songs which debuted on the billboard hot 100 the weeks of 13 september 1997, 15 september 2007, and 16 september 2017

9.13.1997

1) "Honey," by Mariah Carey

You know, when I saw this was coming up, I started wondering why I didn't give "Honey" nearly as much spin as I give to other Mariah jams. 'Cuz I'll listen to "Always Be My Baby" on a cloudy day, I'll listen to "Fantasy" whenever the fuck, I give "Heartbreaker" a lot of love, but this song, I understood to be a classic, but it never quite tickled my fantasy, y'know? And it's not just Mase, though he certainly doesn't help, it's more that this is more mellow than the Mariah songs I've been into, more of a chilled-out thing and not a dramatic declaration of love. It's a simple, sweet ;) song, and I mean I shouldn't be grading this on the Special Mariah Scale (where every song is either an A or an Inspirational Balld), this honestly probably ends up being Song of the Week because it's still really damn good, we're just talking about a Mariah joint that doesn't make the Mariah Top 10.

55) "You Light up My Life," by LeAnn Rimes

...So this is late because I saw 10 Lil Uzi Vert songs and got discouraged. No one who doesn't want to should have to listen to Lil Uzi Vert. So I also dragged my feet on getting everything else written -- welcome to Sunday, September 10th, when I am considering after five days of trying to find a reason to justify piping that into my ears I'm realizing that at least Lil Uzi Vert has some sort of definable character which I've decided I'm not into. Am I thrilled to listen to a song called "444+222?" Absolutely not, that sounds Stupid, and I'm not sure why hip-hop is getting into the same Hot Topic Goth imagery even the goths were over in 2007, but at least there's a definable character there. I will come away from those ten songs (eh, fuck it, I'll listen to the album, I listened to Drake's whole bullshit) having learned something about Lil Uzi Vert as a person, and spending an hour with something I don't like is a more valuable experience than spending three and a half minutes feeling nothing.

75) "Jack-Ass," by Beck

I didn't like listening to this song but Beck wrote it himself and played all the instruments so that means it's a truer artistic statement with significantly more intrinsic value than anything else we'll be discussing today.

76) "It's Alright," by Queen Latifah

I looked up the film where this osng came from, just because I wanted to know what the hell Nothing to Lose was that it would get the "Not Tonight" remix and this song, and apparently the movie isn't very good, but it does feature John C. McGinley and Giancarlo Esposito in feature roles! The soundtrack also has a track from OutKast called "Everlasting," and I just, how does this film get an original from OutKast? What is this movie? Is this worth seeing? It doesn't look very good and I would have to pay to watch it but I need to see how this movie brought the "Not Tonight" remix into existence.

79) "Tubthumping," by Chumbawumba

This song is gloriously and loudly stupid, and while it's also shitty, it at least owns how stupid it is. It revels in its own inanity, and I dunno, I think it has a lot of pluck. It's a charming little ditty. I understand why people would enjoy shouting with this song.

86) "Legend of a Cowgirl," by Imani Coppola

You know what? I think "Honey" is a better song than this, but I'm gonna give this the Song of the Week title because I think Mariah Carey has enough accolades, and this is an incredibly impressive effort. Even without the video, you can get a clear sense of who Imani Coppola is as an artist from this song, hear what she intends to be, and it's really cool to hear a song this ambitious and distinct. I'm not gonna put it on the level of "Felton St," I don't think this is an essential forgotten classic, but this is the rare song that sounds like the artist and not the '90s, and given that I hadn't actually heard of Imani Coppola to this point, that's extremely impressive. Also I'm listening to a song called "Geeks" by Hailey Knox which Coppola evidently co-wrote, and it's pretty amazing, too. Imani Coppola! She's great! Anyway, let's listen to Shaquille O'Neal rap.

91) "Man of Steel," by Shaquille O'Neal, Ice Cube, B-Real, Peter Gunz & KRS-One

KRS-One on "Step Into a World (Rapture's Delight):" "Yo I'm strictly about skills and dope lyrical coastin/Relying on talent, not marketing and promotion" KRS-One on "Men of Steel:" "KRS-One is the nicest/Shaquille O'Neal definitely from Men of Steel" Still better than Kendrick's verse on "Bad Blood" tbh

92) "I'm Not a Fool," by Immature

When Immature came up a few months back, did we discuss the silliness of naming an R&B group made up of teens Immature? That's a terrible name for this boy band! I have trouble believing a serious emotional ballad from a group that reminds me at the top they're idiots. ...You're right, I wasn't making this criticism of Backstreet Boys, it's a '90s R&B slow jam, I've listened to heckin 40 of these, I am so incredibly out of things to say. I'm sorry. I tried to find an angle, but it’s clear I failed.

9.15.2007

43) "Wadsyaname," Nelly

Heading into this song, I recalled the era where Nelly was trying to be a throwback ‘50s-like musician. “Tiltcha Head Back” is one of the top songs of the era, and given that “Candyman” dropped earlier in the year, I thought we’d still be getting retro Nelly. ...No. No, that is very much not what happened here. We got Bland Forgettable Nelly. There is a reason I didn’t remember this song as strongly as “Tiltcha Head Back,” and that’s because it’s kind of the worst thing in the world. Like I’m not listening to the songs on headphones these week, I am blasting these through the speakers, and this is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever played. And like I listen to Twitch streams and country music. I am more worried that people will think I like this song than I am people will think I’m a Trump voter.

73) "More Than a Memory," Garth Brooks

Can I talk about the video I found for this song? So Garth Brooks is one of few artists big enough to fight Google, and it doesn’t look like his music’s easily searchable on The Web. The only videos I could find for this song were covers and that video, which is just a dude pointing a camera at his dog for four minutes. It’s so beautiful. That’s the saddest dog in the world. I don’t know how the ending happened but the ending happens and it’s so perfect, this is such a good video, A+ YouTubing, sir. I am glad to be one in your march to a million views.

78) "Coffee Shop," Yung Joc ft./Gorilla Zoe

I knew I was gonna like this song when I saw a tuba in the background of the video thumbnail, and I knew I was gonna kinda love this song when the video began with Yung Joc making a real estate investment -- a wise decision, and it’s important that this video chooses to represent prudent financial transactions. And sure enough, this song is absolutely delightful. That is a hot Southern pop/rap beat, and Joc and Zoe are way more impressive on this song than they have been on their previous songs. The central metaphor is what it is, the song is basic as hell, but yo, I’ll take basic as hell over what I thought this song was gonna be.

81) "Baby Don't Go," Fabolous ft./Jermaine Dupri

I can kinda see how my mood would affect how I listen to this song. This is peak generic 2007 hip-hop, so on a bad day, I’d just be like “enh, whatever,” but this caught me on a good day, y’lknow? 1997 was pretty chill, 2007′s been good for us after the Nelly travesty, I’m willing to be charitable to this song, even if I didn’t actually notice it had ended until a CarMax ad started playing. Suitable background noise for this fine Sunday morning!

90) "Money in the Bank," Swizz Beatz

Well. ...Well. There went that. OH WAIT I DIDN’T REALIZE WE WERE GONNA PIVOT INTO SOMETHING AMAZING HOLY SHIT IS THIS PROTO-”FAMOUS” DID SWIZZ BEATZ JUST GIVE ME A TEST DID HE JUST SAY “IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE ME AT MY FIRST 90 SECONDS OF THIS SONG YOU DON’T DESERVE ME AT THE LAST 90 SECONDS OF THIS SONG” OK OK I GET WHY THIS SONG EXISTS YAS YAAAAAAS

93) "How Far We've Come," matchbox twenty

This is OK. I dunno, I don’t think the purpose of YAS is to give an extended defense of matchbox twenty, but I have always liked matchbox twenty, and I’m not gonna sit here and try to make some effort to be cooler than that. I’m nowhere near cool enough to try to pretend I don’t think this song is at least okay, nor am I cool enough that I can’t admit hearing this song about legacies and approaching the end of the world had some resonance with my fears for the present day. I’m a fuckboy in his late 20s who is sitting in an apartment listening to and being affected by matchbox twenty. Please listen to my Lil Uzi Vert opinions. They are amazingly valid.

96) "Livin' Our Love Song," Jason Michael Carroll

“Somethin’ like this just doesn’t exist/Between a backwoods boy and a fairy tale princess” I can think of at least 20 other songs where this exact thing exists. We’ll always have “Alyssa Lies.” No one, not even you, can take that away from us.

98) "Hate That I Love You," Rihanna ft./Ne-Yo

Call it the “Honey” effect: I understand this to be a great song, but I never feel quite motivated to revisit it on a regular basis, simply because it’s just mellow and subtle and all those things. This song is great -- I talk about the dearth of duets in modern music, but this is one of the modern greats, and it should be cherished for that fact alone, shouldn’t be judged so unfairly against... The only other Rihanna song I’m judging it against is “Umbrella,” I realize. Is this the second-best song in Rihanna’s entire catalogue? Am I gonna spend the rest of my life Rihanna did her best work in 2007? Team, I am worried I’m a “BACK IN MY DAY” fogey. I enjoyed a matchbox twenty song and I’m arguing that Rihanna’s past her prime. What is this. What am I doing with this post.

9.16.2017

31) "Jocelyn Flores," by XXXTENTACION 41) "Fuck Love," by XXXTENTACION ft./Trippie Redd 54) "Everybody Dies in Their Nightmares," by XXXTENTACION 77) "Revenge," by XXXTENTACION 91) "Depression & Obsession," by XXXTENTACION 94) "Save Me," by XXXTENTACION 95) "Carry On," by XXXTENTACION

Instead of listening to these songs, I’m going to link to this article.

39) "The Way Life Goes," by Lil Uzi Vert 49) "Sauce it Up," by Lil Uzi Vert 60) "444+222," by Lil Uzi Vert 79) "Neon Guts," by Lil Uzi Vert ft./Pharrell Williams 80) "Two," by Lil Uzi Vert 81) "X," by Lil Uzi Vert 92) "For Real," by Lil Uzi Vert 84) "UnFazed," by Lil Uzi Vert 90) "No Sleep Leak," by Lil Uzi Vert 92) "Dark Queen," by Lil Uzi Vert

So basically I put this album and then played an LttP rando, and then I continued playing the rando while two other albums played (heckin hookshot was in a dumb location), and now I don’t remember anything about these songs. Like, they weren’t unpleasant. Lil Uzi Vert isn’t as trash as I was anticipating, but there was nothing I was able to derive from his particular brand of dark trap that I couldn’t get from any of the billion other dudes making dark trap. Like, legit, “444+222.” Maybe I let a song title influence my opinion on the rest of the work, but that’s dumb and this music is dumb.

73) "What Lovers Do," by Maroon 5 ft./SZA

Like all Maroon 5 songs, this is acceptable

76) "Light it Up," by Luke Bryan

I am actually angry that this song called “Light it Up” dares to be mid-tempo. No. No, no, bro country, you wanna be about lighting it up, your beat should be lit. This is a bro country song about Snapchat and the word ‘truck’ is in the chorus and I can’t believe I managed to make time for this. How did 2017 win 13 weeks of this deeply stupid competition. Why was there a guitar solo? Why do these songs make time for guitar solos? What even is this genre?

97) "Tell Me You Love Me," by Demi Lovato

THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN “SORRY NOT SORRY” AND I AM BACK ON BOARD THE DEMI LOVATO TRAIN god damn like this week epitomizes 2017. Problematic people making shitty songs, miles of trap bullshit, not-unpleasant island vibes, awful country, and then a strong woman with a brass backing coming to save us all. My favorite genre of 2017 music is “young woman triumphantly belting over an army of horns,” and Demi Lovato has made my favorite version of that song yet. Hell yeah, man. I am incredibly into this. This single-handedly salvaged the 2017 leg, even if I had to put myself through a whole Lil Uzi Vert thing.

Who won the week?

Though I mean the whole Lil Uzi Vert and Luke Bryan of it all makes it impossible for Demi Lovato to win, like I’m not about to look at a 1997 that gave us “Honey” and “Legend of a Cowgirl” and say “No. XXXTENTACION’s such a broken beautiful soul.” It’s 1997.

Current standings: 1997: 13 2007: 11 2017: 12 Next week, I have no idea what any of the four songs 1997 has to offer are gonna be, we’re gonna talk about Alicia Keys and Britney and Good Charlotte from 2007, and oh boy new Tay Tay and Sam Smith so excited really can’t wait to sink into those f’real those are probably gonna be greaaaaaaaaaat songs i’ll enjoy forever Next week’s standings: 1997: 13 2007: 12 2017: 12 I mean what’s the point of pretending

[blogmidouni]

The 1 Thing I Cut Out of My Diet to Get Rid of Bloating

Image Source: Juice Press

For some people, a few days of inhibition-free meals and a grotesque consumption of carbohydrates could warrant the desire to go on a diet, but for me, it was 24 years of horrendous eating habits. I'm not talking about a bagel once a week or an occasional pasta indulgence, I'm talking about oozing macaroni and cheese quesadillas and 4 a.m. and occasionally skipping meals. But being a 20-something in New York, surrounded by juice cleanses and CrossFit, I decided to listen to my body, succumb to what my mom's been telling me I've needed to do my whole life, and actually eat clean.

Throughout my entire childhood and my adult life thus far — minus a slight speed bump during four years of college — I was one of those people you hated. I have a very fast metabolism and I guess you could say I took advantage of it by not eating well. Recently, being the reigning carbo queen was starting to take a toll on the way I was feeling. No number of miles on the elliptical could change the fact that I was putting crap into my body, and I was ready to make a change.

My coworker and deskmate, Kelsey Garcia, wanted to make a change to her diet before the holidays as well, and we decided to do Juice Press's clean eating plan, which is available for one, three, or five days. We were up for the organic challenge and committed to doing this, so went for the five-day plan.

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Cleanse Details

Each day of the raw vegan food cleanse ranged from 1,340 to 1,510 calories. Although the diet lacked meat, there was no lack of iron throughout the five days thanks to all the almonds, lentils, quinoa, and sunflower seeds. As for protein, our daily intake ranged from 32 to 69 grams, and while the recommended amount for women is 46 grams of protein per day, our levels only fell below that two of the five days. There was an emphasis on healthy fats like avocado and almonds, and there was zero artificial trans fat throughout the diet. Every day had over 100 percent of our recommended fiber intake, and I definitely felt that there was a sufficient amount.

Below is a breakdown of what the five days consisted of, with about two hours between each juice and meal.

Image Source: POPSUGAR Photography / Perri Konecky

With such a structured meal plan, and a positive mindset, I was ready to begin my clean eating journey! While Juice Press does allow people to customize the diet to their personal preferences, I decided to follow the exact plan on the menu above in order to properly analyze my results. . . and let me tell you, I learned a lot about my body. I found out very early in the cleanse that I really enjoy juices — no matter how many vegetables they're made of, I would so much rather drink the greens than eat them (a solution that would've been very helpful during my childhood) and I also learned that I can survive without bread and miraculously still feel completely nourished.

But Wait . . . No Bread?

Before starting the diet, I was afraid that I'd be hungry after each meal, but that was not the case at all. I was pleasantly surprised with how satisfied I felt after each juice and every salad. The only times I actually felt hungry was very late at night, but that was just a sign that it was time to go to bed. Thanks to the mouthwatering kale chips and tamari almonds, my snack needs were met. I wasn't left licking my fingers like after a bag of Doritos, but they both were really delicious snacks to nosh on throughout the day.

Although hunger was not an issue, what I did really notice my body reacting to was the lack of refined carbs. I'm not sure if carbohydrate withdrawal is a thing, but if it is, this was definitely what it feels like. I was eating carbs on the diet, but not even remotely close to the way my body was used to. Going cold turkey with anything you consume on a daily basis is never easy, but whenever I found myself wandering to an Instagram account filled with cheesy pasta, I knew it must've be time for another juice.

Image Source: Juice Press

When I woke up on day three, I felt amazing. For someone who is typically bloated due to my dairy-filled meals, waking up with significantly less bloat was instantly noticeable. At that point I had already consumed seven juices, an oatmeal, four salads, a soup, and a healthy sushi and I still had three days left. I did not look at the scale while I did the cleanse, but it felt like my water weight was gone after just two days.

Kelsey and I started the plan on a Tuesday, which made Saturday our last full day of eating clean, and of course, not the best idea for our social lives. On Friday night, I accomplished the impossible: a night out that didn't end with a slice of pizza. Being the responsible, clean-eating girl I was committed to being, when I packed my clutch for the night out I made sure to include my essentials — wallet, keys, gum, Kylie Jenner Lip Kit, and yes, my tamari almonds. The biggest test of all, however, came when my date ordered a plate of cheesy waffle fries to the bar and I had to exert a level of self-control I did not think was humanly possibly and restrain myself. Shocking, I know, but my five days were almost done, and I had my almonds!

With such a drastic change in my eating habits, I tried my best to keep the rest of my daily routine the same. I worked out three of the five days and was surprisingly energized, even without my cappuccino. For my workouts, I typically did an hour on the elliptical in the evening. Admittedly, during the first day of the cleanse, I attempted to complete my usual cardio exercises, but felt lightheaded and had to stop. I realized I hadn't eaten my dinner yet and the clock had been ticking since my previous juice. Moving forward, I made sure that I ate dinner about two hours before I worked out and drank a lot of water.

What I Learned

After putting my body through such a rigorous change of its usual consumption, you'd be right to assume that after a few days I became — for lack of a better word — hangry. If it were any other situation I would probably try to sneak in an M&M or two to assuage my irritability, but doing the cleanse with Kelsey not only meant that we were holding each other accountable for our commitment, but we were there to be each others cheerleaders (using juices as pom poms, obviously). While I had trouble finishing my salads, she reminded me how delicious the dressings were, and while she struggled stomaching the juices, I'd be encouraging her to chug it as if we were at a college party. I don't think I would've been so committed and excited about changing my ways for five full days if I didn't have a close companion to experience this with. What better way to laugh about and make light of a hunger-induced mood swing than while sitting next to someone feeling the exact same way?! (Read about Kelsey's experience, here.)

Looking back, the cleanse was a complete success. Not only did I shed my water weight and drop a few pounds in just five short days, but it led to a realization about my nasty eating habits that I needed to see firsthand to believe. I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a slice of pizza after completing the final meal of the cleanse, but it was after midnight following day five, so technically I made it through. While I do think I've gained those pounds back, my eating habits most definitely have changed. I've managed to stay away from my late-night, hybrid toaster oven treats and have been making a conscious effort every day to listen to my body and avoid meals that make me feel totally stuffed when I'm done. I wish I could say that I've transformed into a salad-loving, green-drinking girl post-cleanse, but I'd still choose a turkey wrap over a salad any day.

I learned that it truly is possible to make healthy food choices regardless of how busy you are, and I gained a new obsession: kale chips. Yes, it may be easier to eat a cheesy dinner rather than take the time to cook a healthy meal, but it's so worth it when you feel the difference. Five days of clean eating could definitely not reverse my 24 years of carb loading, but seeing how great I felt with a little green in my life has definitely impacted my eating habits post-cleanse.

Related: 30 Easy, Healthy New Year's Resolutions You'll Actually Be Able to Keep 12 Things to Add to 2017 For a Healthier, Happier Year If You're Looking to Be Healthier in 2017, Start With These 10 Tips Now

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