#But hopefully my suffering will result in helping other people with eds

[queen-breha-organa]

Citizens, your Mayor (me) is very fucking sad

I please demand jokes to cheer me up. Everyone please put on your jester costumes.

Feel free to reblog if you wanna add a joke just don’t copy my tags~

#Vent in tags #anyway really bad medical update today folks #Ive got eds and I got some genetic results today that are super disheartening #It sucks being the victim of an incurable chronic illness #And beyond that I’m an eds “anomaly” apparently #So they want to do studies and all sorts of fun stuff with me #Your mayor is now a lab rat #Fun #But hopefully my suffering will result in helping other people with eds #I really hope #that makes it worth it #Anyways

[theodora3022]

Party Sickness(Tamaki x F!reader)

Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x F!Reader

Summary: Tamaki? Party? No one in their right minds would put those two words the same sentence. But a career as a pro hero requires certain amount of socialising, which includes attending events such as celebration parties. “Social training” has many draw backs, but it also made him realize how wonderful it can be to be by your side.

Notes: The reader is single, and they are both in third year of UA. This is for this collab by @ilikemaruchan​ .I never participated in one before, so I am kind of nervous...Anyway this is inspired by a song! There might be a little Fire emblem three houses reference, but nothing major. I started doing work counts because it gives me a sense of accomplishment haha--

Special thanks to @drownedbytears​ for proof reading this!

Word count:1.5k

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 

I don’t care by Ed Sheeran

Warnings: Social anxiety, fluff. May or may not be self-indulgent.

I am to blame. Tamaki silently cursed himself for being so easily convinced. Should have just stayed at home and have regular dinner, instead of this. So many people, so many things unknown...Why are they so loud? Would it hurt to enjoy each other’s presence quietly? And why is the room so cold?!

He should have never said yes to Mirio and Nejire. But Tamaki always got a damned soft spot for his friends ‘pleading puppy eyes.

“Just this once...please Tamaki? You would need to go to events as a pro hero, you know.”

Nejire’s periwinkle eyes.

“Think of this as a special training session! It can be social training for the future.”

Mirio’s ocean blue eyes.

Those incidents resulted him trailing behind Mirio in a crowded party room at eight p.m., unsure how to behave or even where to look. Tamaki was never the one for casual conversations, let alone a situation such as this. He is sure that Mirio has the best intentions, trying to transform his secluded caterpillar-cocoon shy friend into a social butterfly. That courage alone deserves admiration. However, there is no hope for him. Tamaki learned that lesson long ago. He thought being one of the big three would make socialising easier, oh was he so wrong. No matter how hard he tries, he can never find the right thing to say. A problem Mirio or Nejire never seem to have nor understand. As the two shining social stars of third year, they are known for their approachable, cheerful personalities.

“Man, you alright?” Snapping his attention back to reality from the butterfly encyclopedia in his memory, Tamaki was greeted by Mirio’s concerned eyes. “Are you feeling unwell? Did you eat something upsetting your stomach?” It is very kind of Mirio to express worries, but Tamaki prefer to be alone right now. All this noise and people are taking tolls on his frail energy. Quick, think of a reasonable exit strategy Amajiki. You can at least do this, and this thirty-minute suffering can end temporarily.

Excusing himself to the washroom, Tamaki finally got some tranquil alone time beside the sink. Why? Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I be as lively as Nejire or Mirio? They made it seem so easy, just walk up to strangers with their big smiles. Bam they are friends after fifteen minutes. Splashing some cold tap water onto his face, to hopefully clear his mind, Tamaki sighed. Why he cannot spit out a sentence without stuttering? Maybe there is indeed something wrong with him, there is no other explanation.

After five minutes of inner struggle, Tamaki decides to give this special training a try. He would leave Mirio and strike up conversations with some of the friendly people he knew from classes. Certainly one or two of them would want to talk to him, right?

Mirio seems surprised, but he is happy for Tamaki’s bold decisions, nevertheless. “Man, you’re going to do great! Remember to look into their eyes, most of them won’t bite.” Eye contact?? So they can see any emotion you have? Why would he expose himself like that?

I want to go home...No, Tamaki, you are going to give this your all. This once you are not going to flee like a coward. There must be someone who is willing to talk.

That is when he notices you, in a corner chair, sipping on juice, zoning out. You do not seem happy to be here, at least you two have that in common? He has seen you in varies school activities before. Although you are in a different class of hero course, Tamaki recalls you being quite strong.

“Amajiki? What brings you here? I never saw you at any social event before.”

You talked to him, that is a good start. That means he do not have to imitate any conversation. “Mirio brought me here, he said this is part of being a hero.”

When your eyes widen with surprise, Tamaki started to panic. What-what did he do wrong? Is it because he was staring at the ground all the time? Or is it because he stuttered? Oh wait he did not even stutter, that is a first. Or is he just being a nuisance? Readying himself to apologize and leave, Tamaki is prepared to go bury himself under blankets once he escapes this situation.

What almost startled him to death is how you extended your hand to him, smiling so warmly. “Well, need some help? I imagine Togata wants you to have some other friends.” Setting the juice glass aside, you stood up and stretched. Unknown to Tamaki, you actually had been noticing him for a while. But he always seems so timid, as if he would faint any moment. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that the ravenette would be the one to initiate anything, let it be friendship or otherwise.

Conveniently, a song suited for slow dancing has started to play. “Care to join me in a dance, Amajiki?” How he fervently blushes and tries to look away is so endearing, you could not help but be amused. Keeping your chuckles quiet, you offered him your palm again.

A girl asking him to dance. It was usually Mirio who receives this kind of offers, while Tamaki envies beside. It is not that he WANTS attention desperately, sometimes you just want a bit of admiration to remind your self-worth.

So when the opportunity presents itself, Tamaki knows he got to take it. He had never seen you humiliate anyone before, nor did he hear any rumors about you bullying anyone, so what is the harm in placing a little faith? It is a risk he is willing to take. Just like trying new food for his quirk, no risk no gain.

So he nods, slowly placing his long fingers on top of yours.

Your hands are so warm...have they always been? Such a nice contrast to this freezing room. “Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” (color) cloth wrapped around him tightly, chasing the chilliness away. Tamaki has never...been this close to a girl before (besides Nejire and his family members).

“(y/n)?” “Yes, Amajiki?” You let out a gleeful giggle, placing your hands back into his.

“I-I cannot dance. I got two left feet, I would only step on your toes.” Call me Tamaki, please. That he did not have the courage to say out loud.

“That’s fine! We do not have to. As a matter of fact, I am not a skilled dancer myself. Thank you for sparing me the trouble.” You let out a relived sigh, still holding onto his hand, not that he minds, but Tamaki knows he is going to get more then an earful from Mirio if he saw this.

Strangely, Tamaki do not feel intimidated by the packed room anymore. As if you are a wonderful filter for those awful noises, he cannot hear them if he does not pay full attention.

“Call me Tamaki.” Whispering under his breath, the shy boy gripped your hands a bit tighter. “What was that? Why is your face so red? Are you feeling sick?” Your innocent eyes, like two pools of clear lake in the summer, makes him feel this urge, to jump in and soak himself well.

Clenching his teeth, he almost screamed out the words: “Call me Tamaki please!” Several other of your fellow students turned because the sudden sharp sounds, but you just smiled, waving signaling nothing is off. Leading him to a relatively secluded corner of the room, you noticed how he is trembling. Poor boy, you thought. So nervous about talking to me. “There is nothing to be afraid of. I won’t get mad at anything you say.” You were never a judgemental person; all you want to do seeing him so afraid is wanting to cherish him like the treasure boy he is.

Settling Tamaki on a couch, you sit down beside his shivering form with worries in your eyes. This adjacent room is nearly empty, yet he is still like this...How to fix this?

You are so kind, so warm-hearted, why hasn’t he found you sooner? Now he knows you will never judge him for his stutters or bad questions, Tamaki can finally let loose, to let his true feelings run wild.

Tamaki is drawn to you. This strange new feeling left him feeling both frightened and excited, not sure which is more dominant. When you are near him, he can ignore the rest of the room, even if they are one of the things that scares him the most- strangers.

To be perfectly honest, Tamaki never noticed you before. He hopes you do not take offense since he never really notices anyone besides the professors and his two friends. But he knows you are modest and hardworking from the sport festivals.

So...why can’t he accept you as another friend? Surely these social events would be more bearable with you around. But first.

“Would you like to get out of here? I’ll text Mirio that I am feeling ill.”

“I would love that, Tamaki-san.”

#bnha #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #bnha reader insert #bnha x reader #bnha tamaki #tamaki amakiji #tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #collab project

[15dots]

Synopsis:

A beautiful and distinguished family. A private island. A brilliant, damaged girl; a passionate, political boy. A group of four friends -the Liars- whose friendship turns destructive. A revolution. An accident. A secret.

Lies upon lies.

True love.

The truth. 

We Were Liars, is a modern, sophisticated suspense that will leave you reeling. Read it.

And if anyone asks you how it ends, just lie.

Hey, hey, hey, you lot. As you can tell this is probably my first ever published review on my first ever blog. These reviews will hopefully be detailed and juicy enough for you to decide whether or not to get that book you have ogling over. But remember, these are my opinions so don’t come at me if you don’t agree. We will have a civilised discussion and debate if you want, okay? Anyways, I hope I don’t fail you with this first review because this book has been well known and has been around for a quite a while. 

So ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, We Were Liars by E. Lockhart.

Now what made me read this book is how much people were hyping it up. I saw Tik Toks on Pinterest (yes, they exist on that too) about “books that made me cry” or “books I would sell my soul to read again” and to be honest I wholeheartedly agree. I checked Dymocks and Goodreads for the reviews and this book had a 92% liking rate and 4 star rating. I was sold the moment I saw the positive feedback it received. 

So I picked up my Dymocks gift card, bought the book and started reading while sitting in front of Target. 

The book starts by introducing the Sinclair family who are  ‘tall, white and handsome’. They are the typical ‘old money Democrats’, their chins square, smiles wide and tennis people who serve a little too aggressively. They keep those smiles through divorce, sickness, loss and grief. They have to be if they want to be normal, to be a Sinclair. During the summer, they live on a private island off the coast of Massachusetts. 

Cadence Sinclair Eastman is the main character and to just give brief overview of her character-

“I used to be blond, but now my hair is black. I used to be strong, but now I am weak. I used to be pretty but now I look sick. It is true I suffer migraines since my accident.” (Pg 4)

Joining her on the island is her Grandparents, her mother, two aunts and cousins. Aunt Bess is the mother of Mirren, Taft, Liberty and Bonnie.  Aunt Carrie, is the mother of Will and Johnny. She leaves her husband and gets with Ed who then introduces Gat. 

Major names you have to remember: Johnny, Mirren and Gat. Don’t worry if you forget. The book will remind you. They are called the Liars. Cadence, Johnny, Mirren and Gat. 

To describe Gat, he’s-

“Contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee.” (Pg 10).

Cadence loved that. 

During the summers (which they called according to their age), they would grow more in love with each other and by Summer 15, they confessed they liked each other and then had kissed. 

Let me tell you, the way this was written was so beautiful that you could feel the wind on your skin, the goosebumps. Imagine the purple and orange sunset as the night clouds rolled in. The smell of the pink beach flowers. Feel the swelling of your heart when the two kissed so tenderly that you just couldn’t help but feel warm. But (there is always a but) it was also written with a lining of sadness. It didn’t make itself obvious, neither did it put attention to itself. It was just… there. 

The love was there, the soft words and the touches. But maybe, this was a trap, a way to lure you in. I don’t know. 

Summer 15. The turning point. The dirt to make the flower grow. I never knew that something so beautiful could be full of tragedies and sadness. 

Cadence gets into an accident on the island of Summer 15 that results in selective amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything before or after it and struggles with painful migraines because of it. Her family refuses to tell her in fear she will hurt herself more. Cadence must regain her memories by herself. It is better for her to do so. 

To me, Cadence is a tragic character. She is at the start and is until the end. She’s like the girl you see sitting across the coffee shop listening to music, looking out the window. Or the girl laying in the grass of her front yard, grass strands stuck in her hair and to the bottom of her Converses. She dives into the deepest parts of the ocean and climbs the highest rock to prove something. Only thing is she can’t because she’s sick. That’s why she’s tragic. She has done all these things and suddenly gets denied from it. Yet she still tries to understand what went wrong; Her future, her relationships, her family. 

That’s why this book was so intriguing; because Cadence wants to find the missing pieces of her broken memory. She wants sympathy. She wants the world to understand her pain but at the same time to just watch her suffer and feel bad for themselves. Again, she is tragic but she is not selfish. 

She cries for her losses. Stares at the ceiling of what she could have done instead. 

I think a major theme is “Sometimes you have to accept the evil that you can change”. For the sake of yourself and others around you. We Were Liars very much revolves around close family and the relationships within. It is also very power and principle centred, as in what the characters believed. Her family, the Sinclairs, want to uphold their reputation. The evil they bring upon themselves is being blinded and being simple minded towards the world, blaming others for misunderstanding. They are materialistic, still dependent on their father, Granddad, for money even though they are perfectly capable of snagging a job themselves. The Liars saw that their aunts, their Granddad, as the evil in their family, so they wanted to fight against it. Not accept it. And this could be very much what causes their friendship to turn destructive. 

This was the first book that made me cry. I wept for Cadence and her tragic character. I cried for the Liars, the island and it’s sadness. I mourned of what could have been.

To people reading this expecting to know the ending, I am sorry. I cannot spoil a beautiful book that I say demands to be read. I can say that the ending is happiness and sadness, choppy waters on a calm night. I can say that it made my heart feel like it was too heavy or too big for my chest. It’s up to you whether or not I’m telling the truth. 

Let me know how the book goes. Or don’t. Depends on what you decide. 

#books #booksociety #book review #we were liars #i cry #review #ya #young adult #book recs #booklr #reading #sad #ya lit #first love #sorry this is long #tragic #Reviews

[fifiliphile]

love and tumble (Cherik ficlets): 2

[AO3 Version]

1 | 2 | 3 | TBC

A collection of ficlets, based on the prompt list from this post.  Focused on Cherik, with possible appearances of other characters and/or ships. Various AUs, as well as canon compliant stories. There will be information about every story in the notes at the beginning: the setting, rating, characters, etc. Stories are proof-read, but not beta-ed, so I'd be grateful for any and all comments.

So, yeah. Those stories were supposed to be between 100 and 1,000 words. Yeah. Clearly, I'm incapable of writing something short, so have what started of as a short scene from the XMFC road trip, but then escalated to 3k or so words of angst, a lot of emotions, and a lot of cheesiness. I hope you'll like it, because that was a wild ride and I'm not really sure about this story.

2. “Stay here tonight.” (XMFC; Gay Mutant Road Trip)

Rating: T X-Men: First Class, Gay Mutant Road Trip Angst with a happy ending, bickering, angry confessions, mind reading, forehead touching. Warnings: internalized homophobia, an instance of homophobic language (but only one)

“I must say, I thought you’d enjoy our stay in Chicago much more,” Erik’s words break through the haze of pain that Charles does his best to suppress.

Although Erik’s tone is rather mocking, Charles can feel the waves of worry coming off of him, the man’s mind buzzing with uncertainty and distress. It would be truly touching, how much Erik seems to care for Charles’s well-being, if only the telepath wasn’t in the middle of staving off a particularly bad case of headache.

“I do enjoy it,” Charles says firmly, though his voice sounds strained even to his own ears. “There is just so many people here,” he complains, falling into the bed in hopes that the shift to a horizontal position will help.

It doesn’t. Not in the slightest.

“There’s a lot of people at the compound, too,” Erik points out, a single brow raised sceptically, which is equally as annoying as it is endearing.

“But not as many.” Charles grunts, lifting his hand up to cover his eyes and hopefully cut off some of the unforgiving brightness of the ceiling lights. “I like big cities, but they’re exhausting.”

Which is true. He’s never been the one to despise the metropolitan hustle and bustle; at the same time, however, it has never failed to tire him out beyond compare, what with the incessant chatter of thoughts of all kinds; some joyous, some furious, some anxious. Too many emotions, too much information, and even his shields hasn’t been enough to keep it all out. As a result, he’s already ended up with a splitting headache, just two days into their stay in Chicago.

“Any way I could help you?,” Erik asks from the armchair that he’s just sat in, taking his usual spot at the table they’ve been using to play chess.

His room is just down the hall, but they’ve been spending most of the time at Charles’s, their heated discussions and close-fought chess matches engaging enough to keep them up long into the night. Not that there has been anything more to it, Charles muses somewhat forlornly. Erik has no idea about Charles’s less than desirable inclinations, and it’s best if it stayed this way as Charles would rather die than lose so close a friend, the closest person he’s ever got to, perhaps beside Raven, even if it is the most gorgeous man he’s ever encountered.

“There’s really not much you can do,” Charles mutters resignedly, trying not to think about the sharp cheekbones and the piercingly magnetic eyes. “I’ll just have to suffer through it.” He squeezes his hand around his temples, wishing that the soft pressure could somehow alleviate his pain.

“Ever as dramatic,” comes Erik’s cheeky remark, which Charles would probably appreciate much more if not for his agony.

“The pot calling the kettle.” His voice sounds rather small, and yet there’s a strain of annoyance to it that Charles would normally feel sorry for, but he doesn’t have the capacity for it right now, not when his head feels as though it was about to burst.

Charles is waiting for a witty retort, but there doesn’t come any. In fact, the silence stretches for so long that Charles is ready to soldier on and look up, despite the blinding light, as he cannot put a finger on what Erik thinks at the moment, the man’s thoughts humming lightly, yet kept at bay. Luckily, Erik chooses this exact moment to speak up.

“You’re not up for the game, that is?” It’s more of a statement than a question, even if it’s laced with certain uneasiness.

Squeezing his eyes tighter, Charles allows a small sad smile to curl on his lips.

“Oh, I’d love to,” he assures weakly, trying not to make any sharp movements, “but I’m afraid my game would be rather poor tonight.”

There’s another beat of silence, and this time Charles can tell that Erik feels rather troubled and unsure of how to proceed. Charles hears a quiet sigh, followed by the sound of steps which fades as Erik walks onto the carpet. Judging by the way the light above him fades somewhat, Charles assumes that Erik must be leaning over him, even if the telepath’s too tired to open his eyes and check.

“You look miserable.” Erik’s voice is much closer now, albeit softer and more sympathetic.

“I feel miserable, too, my friend,” Charles mumbles, his words barely coherent.

The bed sinks slightly next to him, the light brightening once again, and Charles almost gives in to the urge to turn to his side, away from where Erik is now sitting.

“Is there really nothing I could do?”

Charles feels a feather-like touch on his shoulder, which quickly vanishes. He has to force himself not to lean closer to his companion.

“No.” The word leaves his mouth more sharply than he intended, but Charles doesn’t find it in himself to care, what with his willpower seriously dwindling.

He knows what he really wants to tell Erik, and yet, at the same time, he knows it is the last thing he’d like his friend to hear. Besides, Charles is certain that it wouldn’t help now, not in the middle of their road trip, with nowhere to run to, and with that terrible headache.

“Are you sure?” Erik is relentless in his hunt for a solution to Charles’s discomfort, something that, were the circumstances more congenial, could even be quite sweet.

But all that Charles wants right now is to bury himself beneath the sheets in a futile attempt to make himself disappear. Well, that’s not exactly accurate, although Charles would rather avoid naming all those other things which he so strongly desires—like the touch of those lips, swollen from kissing, on his skin, those elegant nimble fingers running down his spine…

Charles flops himself onto his stomach, struggling to quell the arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach. It’s ridiculous, really—his head is pounding—but his mind manages to conjure those images anyway—so inappropriate, so enticingly… wrong. A quiet groan escapes Charles’s throat. He knows all too well that the attraction to people of your own sex isn’t all that uncommon, and yet there is that venomous voice at the back of his mind whispering to him how unacceptable it is, how deviant.

“You’re testing my patience, Erik,” Charles mumbles into the pillow, pushing all those unwanted thoughts aside.

“You’re a liability to our mission in that state, Charles,” Erik states from somewhere above him, and if it was anyone else, Charles would feel a little hurt at the mere suggestion that he’s a liability. But it’s Erik, who tends to say such things to hide how much he truly cares, which didn’t escape Charles’s attention. Perhaps it’s even one of the reasons why he might be in…

No. He cannot let himself finish that sentence.

“If there’s anything I could do,” Erik continues, as close to pleading as he could ever get, clearly unaware of Charles’s momentary distraction, “I’ll do it. I’d rather not have you so—” vulnerable, Charles can swear that he hears, the thought flowing seamlessly into his mind, though he’s not sure if it’s something Erik has unconsciously projected, or just a creation of his exhausted, aching head, “—unwell,” the man says instead, his voice somewhat strained.

With every passing second, Erik’s worry, washing over Charles’s mind, is much harder to bear. Charles isn’t used to anybody caring that much—even Raven, worried about him as she is, tends to get annoyed rather than envelope him with soothing thoughts. And Charles understands that, he truly does; it is frustrating and scary, after all, if you don’t know what to do to help somebody very close to you. So as not to burden anyone else with his troubles, Charles has quickly learnt how to face them on his own. Now, the fact that somebody might be that determined to soothe his pain somehow is, quite frankly, disconcerting.

“That’s touching, truly,” Charles continues to speak to the pillow, not ready to lift his head and look at Erik just yet, “but trust me, you wouldn’t want to do anything of the sort.”

He’s so drained, tired of his headache and that whole conversation. There has to be a way to convince Erik to let go and simply leave the room, so that Charles can try to face him tomorrow morning, hopefully in a much better shape.

“I said ‘anything’ and I mean it,” Erik says sternly, his tenacity becoming genuinely irksome.

“Oh, for God’s sake…,” Charles grunts, quietly enough that he isn’t even sure if Erik has heard it, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when there’s anger slowly building up in his mind, encompassing it like a nasty fog.

“Don’t be stubborn, Charles.”

This time Charles cannot help himself and he turns his head in order to gaze up at Erik, the reins on his anger almost slipping.

“Really?,” Charles asks incredulously, his voice surprisingly cutting. “Who’s stubborn?”

Erik takes a deep breath, stopping himself from reaching over to Charles, his hand suspended halfway between them. It’s obvious that he’s on the verge of losing his temper as well, but in a rather out-of-character move for him, he manages to rein his emotions in, his whole attention focused on Charles, who belatedly realizes that his own quite uncharacteristic outburst might’ve had the opposite effect to the one he desired.

“What do you want me to do?” Erik’s voice is surprisingly patient, his expression calm, though his distress is evident in those kaleidoscopic eyes of his.

Charles heaves a sigh, knowing well that Erik’s worry is warranted and his anger isn’t. Perhaps he cannot voice what he really wants aloud, but he should at least get himself under control, he owes Erik this much. After all, it isn’t the man’s fault that Charles has developed some undesirable feelings for him.

“You wouldn’t want that,” he mutters dejectedly, averting his eyes as he feels a phantom burning sensation in the vicinity of his heart.

Not seeing Erik’s face, Charles can only hear the hiss of his steady breathing, an old clock ticking somewhere in the background. The telepath hasn’t heard the latter sound before, but suddenly it’s all he can focus on, as if it could take him somewhere else, away from that conversation.

Erik’s voice puts him out of his reverie as the man says, a little exasperated, “How could you know if you didn’t ask?”

For a fleeting moment, Charles is under the impression that Erik can see right through him; that he’s aware of all of Charles’s perverse desires. That is a dangerous thought, however, sparking up too much of the silly hope which has still managed to bloom in his heart. He squashes it mercilessly.

If knowing what Charles wants from him is what Erik so desperately desires, Charles can give it to him and end this ridiculous charade once and for all.

“Stay here tonight. With me.” His throat is tight and feels as dry as if Charles hasn’t had a sip of water in ages. Despite all of that, his voice comes out exceptionally firm, not cracking even once. “Here, I said it,” he adds as soon as he sees the realization dawn on Erik’s face. This time his voice does break, hopelessly, so that he has to whisper the second half of the sentence. “Now you can storm out of the room, appalled that you’ve befriended a fag,” Charles spits out, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

He knows he shouldn’t say that. It’s hurtful—to him, to many other people. And yet, it’s easier if he says it; if he doesn’t have to hear it coming from Erik’s lovely mouth.

Erik stares at him for what feels like an eternity, his face nothing more than a blank mask. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t say anything, barely even keeps breathing.

“Is this what you think I would do?,” he asks eventually, his voice as emotionless as his expression.

Feeling himself breaking under the heaviness constricting his chest and the weight of that judging gaze, Charles just snorts, “Wouldn't you?” Erik’s mind seems calm, but there’s clearly something boiling under the seemingly tranquil surface. Charles doesn’t even want to take a look—he couldn’t dive in, not now of all times. “I shouldn’t…” He turns his head, burying it in the pillow, so he doesn’t have to watch Erik walk away from his room and from his life. “It’s wrong.”

Those last two words are so quiet, a barely audible murmur, that Charles is taken aback when Erik asks, “Do you really think so?”

His voice is disturbingly stiff, but Charles forbears from turning back towards him. He’s capable of enduring that conversation, keeping himself from falling into pieces, as long as he doesn’t have to look into Erik’s face and witness the inevitable rejection and repulsion with his own eyes.

“I can’t have this conversation right now.” Charles doesn’t even know how he manages to speak, yet the words flow out of his mouth tiredly, as if on its own accord. “Just— Go. We can have a fight in the morning.” He buries himself deeper into the sheets.

There’s a sudden shift on the surface of Erik’s mind and it flashes with disbelief, the myriad of scattered thoughts flying around like fireflies, too fast for Charles to catch, his throbbing head successfully preventing him from fully reading his friend’s reaction.

“How could you not know?” Erik asks unbelievingly, his voice remarkably quiet.

Charles can’t help but shift to his side, taken aback by that question. It’s not what he expected, and when he looks up to Erik’s face, he doesn’t find anything he anticipated either—only shock and… hurt?

“Know what?” Suddenly, Charles feels very small, racking his brain for a crucial detail he might’ve missed somewhere among the flurry of the past few weeks.

“You said you knew everything about me.” Erik remains tense, his eyes studying Charles closely.

“I might’ve exaggerated a little,” Charles admits, less bashful than he’d normally be, too tired to care about those things right now. Too tired to stand it any longer. He buries his face in his hands, saying from underneath his palms, “Now, if you please, I’d like to try to get asleep and inevitably fail, caught between my headache and my heartache.”

Charles is about to flop back to his stomach, maybe curl into a ball, when a pair of hands grasp his wrists, pulling them away. The light blinds Charles for a moment, but as soon as he recovers, he finds himself facing Erik, his friend's expression wary, but determined.

"Charles, shut up,” he says forcefully, his mind buzzing anxiously, resembling a huge beehive, which does very little to help Charles ease his headache. “Normally, I would yell at you, but I’ll just say that you’re an idiot.” Erik sets his jaw, searching Charles’s face for a moment. “Get inside my mind,” he demands, his voice unyielding.

“You know I can’t— I wouldn’t—” Charles tries to explain, however, before he even has the chance to finish, he’s interrupted.

“Just do it.” And Charles knows that he won’t talk Erik out of it.

"Okay.” He nods, the skin of his cheek brushing against the pillow. Bracing himself for a wave of pain, he slowly hoists himself into a sitting position. He can’t help but wince when he feels the ache flaring up. “Here I go, then. Just, fair warning, my headache is quite bad, so if I’ll end up—"

“Charles,” Erik says warningly through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” the telepath relents, reaching to Erik’s temple with trembling hands.

As soon as his fingertips touch the soft skin, Charles feels his mind being surrounded by the whirlwind of thoughts of sensations, coloured with different feelings, dancing around him, some of them overwhelming him with their intensity. There’s a current of determination cursing around him, although there are streaks of cautiousness intertwined with it. After a long moment of marvelling over the strength of Erik’s feelings, not as jumbled and chaotic as his own, Charles becomes aware that there is something else behind that determination; something that he’s currently being pulled to. It’s Erik, Charles realizes with a start, who’s drawing him in that direction, as if he wants to show him something. Charles complies with this unspoken plea and what he finds is beyond his wildest dreams.

All of a sudden, he is swept up in a swell of something so intense, so passionate, and so warm that he barely resists the urge to pull himself out of Erik’s mind. Luckily, he stays there long enough to see it—or rather sense it, see it with his mind’s eye—his own face, almost alight, bathed in warm light, a pair of hauntingly blue eyes looking back at him with so much kindness and compassion that he doesn’t recognize himself at first. It can’t be him, that man is simply too perfect.

He’s not perfect, Charles hears, echoing softly in his mind. But that’s why he’s beautiful.

Unable to bear it anymore, Erik’s feelings too deep and astounding, Charles pulls himself sharply back to the present, back to the man before him who watches him carefully.

“Do you really think so?,” he hears himself ask, and only after the words have already left his mouth does he realize that he’s echoed Erik’s words from before.

This time, though, they are far from the shocked hurt that Erik must’ve felt at the moment. Charles’s voice is small, vulnerable, yet filled with amazement.

"Oh, Kindskopf…” Erik slowly reaches out and gently brushes a few strands of Charles’s floppy hair behind the telepath’s ear, clearly using this as an opportunity to stroke Charles’s cheek while retracting his hand, delicately, with just the tips of his fingertips. Even if he knew German better, Charles doubts that he’d be in the right mind to translate what Erik’s just said. And yet, he has a feeling that it wasn’t something particularly nice, though the way in which Erik said it, with so much affection, makes him question that thought. “How can someone so smart be so stupid?”

There’s a small smile curling in the corners of Erik’s lips, and even through the pain, which somehow ended up being pushed to the back of Charles’s mind anyway, the telepath can’t focus on anything else but that minute, yet enticing movement.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Charles asks, not even ashamed of how pleading his voice sounds.

Erik doesn’t mind anyway.

“I will,” the man says simply, leaning closer to Charles, close enough that their foreheads are touching.

Charles allows his eyes to shut, enjoying the warm and soothing feeling encompassing his mind. Basking in it, he notices that his pain is slowly letting go, tuning in to Erik’s mind providing him with a much needed reprieve from all those voices around him. It is a truly exhilarating discovery, that not only didn’t Charles give his friend a headache because of their mental contact, but his own actually alleviated. Or maybe it’s all been thanks to being surrounded by the purest, strongest feeling possible.

Love.

* * * * *

Kindskopf — silly boy (Or that's how I'd translate it to English, at least; sorry, my knowledge of German is quite limited, so I'd appreciate being corrected if I'm wrong.)

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x men #xmcu #xmfc #x-men: first class #gay mutant road trip #angst with a happy ending #(or rather a sappy ending) #bickering #angry confessions #tw homophobic language #cherik fanfic #my fanfiction #hanshaped writes #and mumbles

[justgotham]

With so many characters milling the streets of its titular crime haven, Gotham often points back to its comic book roots by wisely sectioning off some of those heroes and villains together, creating bizarre and often dangerous team-ups. When Season 3 ended, some of those factions were on shaky ground, but executive producer and writer John Stephen gave CinemaBlend and a few other outlets the scoop during San Diego Comic-Con, and he told us about a few unexpected (and unexpectedly familiar) groupings fans can expect to see in Season 4. And one will feature Mr. Solomon Grundyhimself.

We have all these families that are being created this year, and one of the families is going to be a brand new and very different Lee Tompkins, together with Ed Nygma and Solomon Grundy, who is Butch Gilzean obviously. When Butch becomes Solomon Grundy, he doesn't remember his former life, so when he runs into Ed Nygma, he doesn't remember that he wants to rip his head off. And Ed, who is suffering the effects of being frozen for three months, needs Grundy's help to get strong again. The three of them form this weird little family.

One of my favorite aspects of Gotham is how the show sometimes feels like the most epic piece of fan fiction ever, and that certainly fits into this pretty insane trio, which features three characters that will basically be the complete opposites of the characters they were introduced as. Ed's Riddler personality will still be intact, somewhere inside him, but it'll be muddled by that whole "being encased in a giant block of ice" scenario. It's entirely possible that Butch's original identity won't ever return following his bullet-to-the-head transition into Solomon Grundy, however. And though it seemed like Lee would exit Gotham City somewhat safely and virtuously after being cured of the Tetch virus, she'll apparently jump right back into the swing of things, and not without her recent antagonistic side intact.

During Comic-Con, star Cory Michael Smith also spoke with CinemaBlend (and others) about Season 4, and he went into a little more detail about forming that "family" with his new and old connections.

Evil Lee or Dark Lee is a new character. Solomon Grundy is certainly a new character. So I get to meet two new people, and interact with them, so I'm very excited about that. Feels like new beginnings. Every time Edward meets a new character and interacts with them and grows a kinship with them, he changes significantly, so I'm really excited to see what organically happens when I'm dealing with the buffoon of Solomon Grundy, not just like the physical power, but the idiocy. Then someone like Lee, who at this point, is an entirely different human being.

Hopefully Ed's time in the ice cube won't mess with his intelligence too much, since his brain-driven ego is part of what makes the character so fun.

Not that everything will revolve around those three. After all, Gotham will be rocking one of its strongest female squads yet, as the electrocuted-and-left-for-dead Barbara will be back to her old tricks. And somehow it'll be with the person who electrocuted her, as well as a young protégé. Here's what else John Stephens told us during that interview.

[Selina] forms like a group -- we really lean into the Sirens of it all -- she forms a group with Barbara and Tabitha and becomes much more of the young Catwoman.

That's right, everybody. Babs and Tabs are back again, somehow, even though they have had one of the most strenuous "friendships" in Gotham City. And they're not only keeping up appearances with Sirens, but they'll also be formally taking Selina under their collective wing in order to put the character down the path to Catwoman-dom in a more official capacity. All three woman are broken in some way at this point -- with Tabitha's hand situation and Selina's recent tumble out of a window (that resulted in a real life injury) -- and it'll be interesting to see how Barbara and Tabitha settle their differences in order to mentor one of the Batman mythos' greatest characters. We hope it's purr-fect.

Unfortunately, we still have a while to wait until Gotham returns for Season 4, as it won't hit Fox again until its new night and time of Thursday, September 28, at 9:00 p.m. ET.

#Gotham #Edward Nygma #Cory Michael Smith #Leslie Thompkins #Morena Baccarin #Camren Bicondova #Selina Kyle #Barbara Kean #Erin Richards #Tabitha Galavan #Jessica Lucas #Butch Gilzean #Drew Powell

[cryingovernarry]

i realized i never actually never share anything about me on this website, like, i never really write about stuff thats happened/is happening in my life or about stuff i like and whatever. and like. im the type who’s great at oversharing (shitposting) lmao but apparently never on tumblr i guess?? its not important but yeah i just realized it. ive had this account since april 2012 i think? never made any friends on here tbh i just exist in the background quietly liking or reblogging stuff, and never do anymore than that. and no one will actually care or read this so MIGHT AS WELL am i right ladies and gents and non-binary friends. so heres some good and shitty stuff thats happened in my life

2017 was a good concert year for me i think (please bear with me ive got bad memory) (thx depression) i finally saw ed sheeran (one of the best concerts ive been to even if the people next to us kept talking throughout the whole concert) then i saw shawn mendes (hes baby) i went and saw little mix all by myself (snatched that barricade too!!) it was incredible and i miss them. i was lucky enough to see niall and harry too on their tours and ill never get over that. oh, and niall retweeted one of my tweets so thats something. (im trying to play it cool bc its been over two years it Should Not make me Feel Like This anymore right) i also went to germany in 2016 on december 31st to celebrate new years with my friend who i met through the internet (thanks internet) and i stayed there for a week (shouldve known itd go all downhill after that)

so, while concert-life was on top, my personal life was at bottom and it would only get worse in 2018. 

early 2017 my mom started to feel...sick. her body was hurting all the time. she was in so much pain without knowing why. apparently she had some kind of rare blood disease. it all went so...fast. suddenly she was in and out of hospitals, she got worse, the pain even more worse. some days she could barely walk and all she could do was cry. it’s horrible seeing your own mom like that. knowing there was nothing you could do. i did my best though, i moved back home to help her with my siblings becuase their father is a piece of shit who never helped my mom even if she was sick. she was at her lowest and he didnt care and he only made her worse. but i took on the responsibility of taking care of my younger siblings, and mom. as much as i could. while my older sister came home almost every weekend so she could help too. our grandma did her best too. we all tried so much to help mom. 

in september my mom called from the hospital. she told me her disease has turned into leukemia. this was the first time i cried with my mom. 

she did all kinds of chemo, got isolated at the hospital. wasn’t allowed to go out or sometimes even see her own kids. my sister and i took turns staying with her at the hospital though. i think the longest i stayed with her at the hospital was two weeks straight. 

when the results of her last chemo came back the doctor said the cancer hadnt gone down as much as they had hoped. they said my mom could do one last chemo but that was it, if the cancer wasnt gone after that there would be nothing more they could do to help my mom. because her body wouldnt be able to handle anymore. my mom was a fucking fighter, she had no hesitation about it. 

she was allowed to come home for christmas and the new years. no one knew it would be our last one with her. 

it turned into 2018 and she handled her last chemo pretty well. didnt affect her as much as the others had. she was allowed to come home for the weekend in february. she was so happy to see her kids again. she felt good. but she wasn’t. she really wasn’t. i think that weekend was the worst in my life. 

on march 20th, 2018. after a month of being in a coma, she passed away in her sleep. my wonderful mom, who fought to get better for her kids, who had been suffering for a year, finally got to rest. she wasn’t in pain anymore. 

seeing your mom taking her last breath really fucks you up in some type of way. 

she left six kids behind her. 

my mom always supported me going to concerts. she’s a big music fan herself and she knew how much going to concerts meant to me. always got excited when i told her about them, always listened to me. always listened when i played her new songs or albums. two days before her passing i saw harry styles in concert, tickets bought months before. i wasn’t sure i was even going, but i knew mom would’ve wanted to so i did. i wasn’t at my best during that concert, sat down for most of it but i cannot explain how much seeing harry meant to me. he really helped me feeling better for some hours, made me laugh and smile. i’ll always be grateful for that.  a month after my moms passing i had tickets for another concert, that was for niall horan. i really didn’t think i would be able to handle it, but i did it for mom. knew she would’ve wanted me to go. my friend was a great distraction, and we also met some lovely people in the line and i was so grateful. i will always be thankful for niall, even if he made me cry during flicker. he really helped me too, without knowing. saw 5sos too after three years at the end of the year, with my childhood best friend who i hadn’t seen in over a year. concerts really is the best medicine. at least for me.

i felt so lost without my mom, i still feel that way. some days i have a hard time believing she’s actually gone. your mom isn’t supposed to die when your’re twenty one. she’s supposed to be there next to you while you’re trying to figure out your life. 

i’m gonna be honest with you, i don’t really remember most of 2018. and i don’t think i actually want to remember either. 

2019 has been slightly better so far. saw disney on ice (incredible). in april we finally went to london. something my mom had always wanted too, so i took the necklace i got her years ago and brought it with me to london so at least a piece of her would be there too with us. 

on the first day my older sister and i saw shawn (hes still baby). we also went to madame tussauds (finally met one direction yall), went on london eye, walked to the buckingham palace. took a bus to warner bros studio tour of harry potter. that was fucking incredible. drank disgusting butterbeer. london felt like a dream. 

-

i still don’t know what to do with my life, i don’t really have any dreams. im currently living with my grandma and she really doesnt want me to move out lmao. and i feel bad for leaving her

-

so that’s it i guess. hi everyone who hopefully didn’t read any of this. my names amanda and my lifes a mess and all tangled up but that’s okay. thats what everyone says. gotta focus on the good things happening in your life. and don’t take your family and friends for granted. please. 

also heres my face ft. my harrys tour tshirt. be nice please. okay bye.

#immediately after writing all of this i got the urge to delete it all #whatever #im also not gonna read through it so mistakes are bound to be made #im exhausted but it felt good to write it down #its rly long and doesnt make any sense so dont read #if u do then thats on you #dunno what i wouldve done without music #and concert #about me #i guess lmao

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

I'm a 26-year old guy and Ive noticed the last three times ive had sex with a girl i struggle to sustain an erection. i mostly use porn to get off in between hook ups and indulge usually 1-2x per week, less so recently. i think what my problem is, is that I'm desensitized and/or my brain gets excited mostly when it knows I'm about watch porn. the kicker here is that I'm hanging out with this girl Friday and there's a 99% chance we'll have sex. any advice? i haven't watched porn for over a week

Welp, certainly missed the mark on this one. But if you come back and read this, hopefully you were successful! 

That being said, the harsh reality here is that it definitely sounds like you’re experiencing what scientists call porn-induced erectile dysfunction. It may not be the case - there are A LOT of issues that can cause various types of erectile dysfunction. But if YOU feel like there’s a relationship, that’s a good cause for alarm. 

Firstly, what is it? Here’s a good review and understanding to get you started. It also be stated straight-out, PORN IS NOT ADDICTIVE. Addictive materials alter the chemistry of your body with the introduction of the addictive substance (alcohol, nicotine, cocaine, etc.). Instead, porn is a COMPULSIVE material, and although it can have real world effects, the compulsive behaviour is not built into the body, but is instead a reaction to experiences people have to the world around them (stress, anxiety, depression, etc. can all create reasons to compulsively use porn, similarly to that forms of escapism). 

Essentially, ED caused by porn results from a place of over-stimulation. Using porn all the time conditions the brain to associate the act of preparing and then engaging with the porn as a sexual act, and if you use high volumes of porn (LOTS of different videos of extreme, hardcore porn) it can train your brain to think that this is how porn is, with all that stimulation. And when you don’t get that experience in real life, your expectations for sex aren’t met, and thus you find it difficult to get aroused. More info from Laci Green here. 

So for your particular meeting this weekend, there’s not much that could have been done. Retraining your brain can be a very difficult process depending on how severe the issue is. So much so, that it might even require a sexologist or therapist to help you through the process. Which is something you should keep in mind if this problem persists! 

The general advice to “cure” ED from porn use is as follows: 

CUT OUT THE PORN. The big issue here is that porn has become as vital to your sexual experience as an erection. Your brain is smart, and it does a lot of automatic processes during sexual arousal, like speeding heart rate and breathing, as well as all the processes that go into making the penis erect. The problem is, if this is a problem you’re suffering from, the porn itself has become part of the process, and if your brain relates porn + automatic function = erection, then if that porn isn’t there, you won’t be aroused. 

Now pay attention to what I said here. I didn’t say STOP MASTURBATING. I said stop watching porn when you masturbate. The porn is the problem, and you need to rewrite the algorithm in your brain to retrain it to understand that porn is not a requirement for arousal. You kinda already instinctively figured this out, and cut down on the masturbation time. But now I suggest you begin to try to masturbate without porn.

I know that probably sounds awful. If you can’t get it up with an actual person, how can you do it alone? That’s the goal. You have to retrain your brain that erotic thoughts - and thoughts alone - are enough to make you aroused. By removing porn from the equation, it forces you use your brain and imagination to become aroused. Think of arousing images in your mind, or think of attractive people in your mind, and then try to masturbate. This may not work! You may just by flapping away at a floppy dick. That’s okay. Don’t try to cum, don’t even try to get hard. Just have a fun, nice moment enjoying an erotic thought. Kind of like when you were a kid, and imagined a classmate in their underwear, and maybe impulsively touched yourself. This is the type of space in your mind you want to rediscover for yourself. Leave your computer and phone behind. Turn off all technology, get in bed, maybe light some candles, and imagine some super steamy, hot sexual scenarios, and see if over the period of a month or so, you can get aroused this way.

________

MASTURBATE DIFFERENTLY. This may sound kind of dumb, but it’s very important for those suffering from ED. Part of the arousal process is the way we do it. We experience pleasure in specific ways, and if a way that we experience pleasure doesn’t align with the way we are used to experiencing pleasure, our brain sometimes interprets that as “oh, this isn’t pleasurable.” 

As an example, you can see this in a huge majority of young women, particularly pre-teens and teens just discovering their sexuality right after puberty. In western culture, men are taught from a young age that it’s okay to be more open about their perviness; however, lots of women are shamed from an early age to reject their perversions and sexual thoughts for a sense of idealized purity. This is obviously bullshit, but it’s the way parenting and education happens to prepubescent children. 

The result of this conditioning is that there are LOTS of girls who suddenly hit puberty, start having all these horny feelings, but feel they are deeply strange and shameful. “I would never finger myself, that’s WRONG.” “It hurts to have sex, because I never masturbate.” “I don’t like to masturbate because it doesn’t feel good.” It’s not that any of these people are lying; it’s simple that they have been conditioned to think these various thoughts, through YEARS and even DECADES of negative reinforcement of sexual habits. 

How does this relate to you? Well, for those who do masturbate, sometimes we can condition ourselves to appreciate pleasure in only one way. If all you do is drop onto your couch, turn the porn on, and surf until it’s time to cum, you condition your brain into the habit of THIS being the sexual experience. This is what sex looks like for your body 99% of the time, but then you meet with a girl... but you’re not naked on your couch, and there’s no porn on... this isn’t sex, this is some other situation, no arousal. 

How to fix? CHANGE IT UP. Similarly to not using porn to find arousal, try to use different methods physically to become aroused. Do you use your right hand every time to masturbate? Try to use your left, or flip your hand upside down while stroking. Want a more “sex-like” experience? Try masturbating with condoms on (or with lube!), since you’re hopefully using those when hooking up anyway! Still not enough? HUMP THINGS! Couches, pillows, old stuffed animals, beds, blankets, and all sort of things can give a full body sensation of sexual pleasure. Usually sit down at your computer to masturbate? Lie down in bed instead, or even stand up while you do it! Still want an extra special something? BUY SOME SEX TOYS! Go to Adam & Eve (not a sponsor, they’re just dope) and buy a toy that suits your needs. Too cheap? Make your own sex toys! 

The point is back to that conditioning thing. You want to condition your brain to understand that there are LOTS of different places where it’s okay to be aroused, so when you find yourself in a new situation (aka, with a person, in real life) your body doesn’t feel like this is an inappropriate place to do the deed. 

Another very important thing to say here at the end. You BELIEVE that this is your problem, but it is also entirely possible this ISN’T the problem. It’s possible you are experiencing anxiety in sexual encounters with people. If you feel scared or anxious in the moment, this requires a different method of recovery, and you need to learn to calm your mind and try to remember that the expectations you feel at your performance are fair and valid, but they aren’t expectations, and it’s all in your head. 

Also, MEDICINE. Lots of medications can fuck with your ability to get hard. Research your medications and see if one of the downsides is erectile dysfunction. If yes, contact your doctor and tell him you’re experiencing these problems.

Also also, mind altering substances! Alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana just to name a few have all been noted as items that can decrease the ability to feel aroused or get aroused, especially in men. Maybe you struggle to get aroused because you’ve had too much to drink, or there’s too much THC in your system, or nicotine has decreased blood flow to your body. If you use any sort of drug, narcotic, or substance like this, maybe cut that out of your diet for awhile! 

The bottom line is that all this shit is way more complicated than we assume at first glance, and you should take the potential that porn is the problem seriously. But make sure you analyze your whole self during the process to figure out what the actual issue is, and don’t be afraid to approach doctors with these concerns. 

[fritomonster]

That One Time I was Institutionalized

I don’t know how to start this story. I had a fancy, poetic post thought out in my mind, with bits like “falling in love is parasitic” and “how does one fix a problem when they are the problem” and “depression lies, but persuasively so.”

But you know what? Fuck that. I’m tired. The medication I’ve been taking the last few days has made me physically weaker. I don’t have the strength or the patience for introspection or explaining why I ended up in a psych ward to begin with. So here’s just the facts. This is what it was like being there. 

I was admitted to The Ridgeview Institute at 5AM on January 13th, 2017. We got in around 11PM the previous night, but there was only 1 clinician on staff (and a line of other patients), so it took forever.

Once they met with me, they took my vitals, including a breathalyzer, and went over the events that led me there. I had been suicidal, so they wanted to know about the stressors in my life.

Then they assessed whether they thought I not only was a good fit, but which ward I should stay in. I was technically assigned to General Psych (which I’m told they just medicate you and you’re done), but they were full so I went to Women’s Trauma. That meant I was with women that suffered from anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and PTSD, among other problems. That particular ward also focused on therapy, as well as medication.

Next I was strip searched and had to hand over whatever items I brought with me. Certain things were withheld (anything with alcohol as an ingredient, electronics, phones, wallets, etc.). I had to hand over anything with strings or laces as well, but more on that in a moment. Items meant for hygiene were stored in a locked closet for once-a-day use; personal valuables were kept in an inaccessible safe. Everything was given back to me at discharge, and it was all documented just in case they missed something.

I was escorted to the ward via security van. They took my vitals again and gave me a really brief orientation (lacking severely in my case). Normally you get a room and a roommate if the place is filled, but I was on suicide watch. That meant anything I could potentially hurt myself with, like drawstring pajama pants and laced shoes, was confiscated. They also took my mattress out of my room and had me sleep in the hallway (in line of site of the nurses). I also wasn’t allowed to leave that specific area, and if I was, I had to be escorted at all times.

The day began at 6:30AM for morning vitals. We were allowed to go back to sleep until 8AM after that, but most used that time to either use the phones (open 7AM - 8AM), do laundry, or take care of their morning dress routines. Access to our rooms stopped at 8AM regardless. Doors were locked until 8PM.

The first thing we did past 8AM was fill out a “diary card,” which was a worksheet describing whether we had destructive urges, if we acted on those urges, what triggered those urges, and how we felt emotionally. Once that was done, we had breakfast.

Eating in that particular ward was carefully done. Since ED patients were involved, we couldn’t talk about calories, weight, ingredients, etc. They also had dietitians set up meal plans. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about that, but I still had to be very conscious when I eventually got cafeteria privileges and brought back some dessert.

After breakfast, we met for a group review of our diary cards. We’d also share our goal for the day and if the goal from the day before had been met. This included day-goers in the partial hospitalization program (PHP). They’d be on campus between 8:45AM and 3PM.

Immediately after was the first group of the day - usually a focus group. Things like art therapy, a lecture, or a workshop. Sharing was limited, but still encouraged. Most of them involved a specific theme, like shame, guilt, types of attachment, etc. Many things were topics I learned about as a Psychology minor in college.

There were also family visits, some that required a group and some that didn’t. The family groups were focus groups. Coincidentally, the first group I attended was a family group that happened to go over the very reason I ended up in the damn place. CODEPENDENCY!

Then we’d get a snack break! And a smoke break for those who smoked (more patients did than didn’t).

Then came process group. This was the touchy-feely, bare-your-soul group therapy you’d expect when you hear the term group therapy. It took some time for me to warm up to it, but it was incredibly refreshing once I really participated. I made a lot of valuable connections with other patients. A lot of new friends. It was certainly helpful to hear that, even if our experiences were different, we felt the same in many ways. However, at the end of the day, I couldn’t always talk about what I wanted to talk about, and the feedback was more general than personalized. I prefer 1-on-1 therapy as a result.

Then came lunch time! Depending on whether we were to be checked every 15 minutes or every 30 minutes (level I and level II respectively), we either ate predetermined meals sent up from the kitchens or got to go to the cafeteria. I got bumped off of suicide watch after the first day, then off of level I watches after about 2 more. Finally being able to get out of the ward (fresh air) made cafeteria time soooo nice. The extra selections were nice too. I had taco casserole 1 night and would highly recommend it.

After lunch came a mini focus group, followed by a full focus group. The former was split into 2 sections based on why we were admitted: nutrition and meal planning or trauma. Sometimes the second group would follow that pattern as well.

Snack time came around again, then some free time and dinner at 5PM. Then more free time, another snack, and finally free time until 11PM. That was final call for bed.

Free time consisted of: television, puzzles, card games, lounging on couches, talking with other patients, board games, staring off into nothingness, coloring, reading, or having complete meltdowns. For the most part, we talked over card games.

Phones opened up again at 7PM until 10:30PM. We could shower (with access to the valuables closet) between 8PM and 9PM. It was really quiet mostly during this time, because people were waiting for the phones (there were only 2, depending on which assistants were working the front desk - some would let us use the desk phones).

Throughout the day at no specific time, psychiatrists would come to the ward to meet with every patient every single day. Thankfully, I really liked my doctor (he dressed like a dapper, little old man and was both attentive and soft spoken). We discussed why I was admitted, what I’ve been doing while there (EVERYTHING you do is recorded for them to see, from participation to napping), medications, when it looked like I’d be discharged, etc.

This information was then given to the case managers. They kept tabs of our personal progress and acted as counselors. They’d meet with us regularly as well and were in charge of our actual discharge based on the doctor’s advice.

On the weekends, a lot of the structure got cut out and we were left to keep ourselves busy. Unfortunately that meant I was bored. A lot. Especially since it was a long holiday weekend.

Personally, it was all very tolerable. Enjoyable even when I clicked well with the others. But there was also always an air of anxiety that surrounded us. And there were plenty of moments (especially during free time) that I’d dwell on the negatives or want to go home. 

In the end, we weren’t allowed to leave with the doctor’s blessing until we had both therapist and psychiatrist appointments on the books. Which I have. I start therapy Monday, hopefully 3-4 times a week (I don’t know if 5 days is realistic).

I want to get better. The medications are working. So I guess it was worth it. Now we wait and see...

P.S. There was a really entertaining/heartwarming moment when myself and 3 other girls realized everyone at the table was gay. It was great! I made new friends! Now I’m just waiting for them to get discharged so they get their phones back!

#Rambling #Mental Health #Mental Illness #Depression #Suicide

[jaidandumphy91]

5 Herbal Remedies For Premature Ejaculation Surprising Cool Ideas

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Check out New Post published on Ọmọ Oòduà

New Post has been published on http://ooduarere.com/news-from-nigeria/world-news/china-bolivia-and-venezuela/

China, Bolivia and Venezuela are proof that social democracy cannot thrive in the global capitalist order

By Jeff J. Brown for Ooduarere via The Saker Blog

Crosslinked with:

https://chinarising.puntopress.com/2019/11/16/china-bolivia-and-venezuela-are-proof-that-social-democracy-cannot-thrive-in-the-global-capitalist-system-china-rising-radio-sinoland-191116/

https://youtu.be/ngJxuqdZ8SI

https://soundcloud.com/44-days/china-bolivia-and-venezuela-prove-that-social-democracy-cant-thrive-in-the-global-capitalist-order

Pictured above: The US orchestrated coup in Bolivia is being led by White supremist, fascist, Christian fundamentalists, just the type of jackbooted brown shirts the West loves, in order to plunder and rape countries around the world. Washington, London and Paris put fascists and mass murderers in power, because they make Wall Street billions in criminal blood money. Pictured center above is one of their psychopathic henchmen, Luis Fernando Camacho, giving a Nazi salute and wearing the Nazi Iron Cross. Notice Jesus Christ is portrayed on the flag on the right. Racist inspired blood is going to flood the Native streets of Bolivia. Read this article and get goosebumps of revulsion (https://thegrayzone.com/2019/11/11/bolivia-coup-fascist-foreign-support-fernando-camacho/).

The US-orchestrated, fascist, racist overthrow of the popularly elected socialist government in Bolivia is depressing, but not surprising (https://www.rt.com/op-ed/473181-morales-bolivia-american-coup/). As a tweet shown in this article says, it’s nothing new, as this is US coup #5 in Bolivia,

1952, 1964, 1970, 1980, 2019. Brought to you by the Bolivian oligarchy and the CIA.

Western and White Supremist Bolivian capitalists will now plunge it into another Libya, while exterminating uncounted thousands of Native Americans (https://www.rt.com/news/473494-putin-bolivia-morales-libya/), as Russian President Vladimir Putin is already warning.

Before 2006, Bolivians, like most peoples of Central and South America, were sodomized, plundered, exterminated, enslaved (mostly) Natives, watching helplessly as their natural and human resources enriched the local White elite 1% (ongoing colonial, European family lines, who started settling in the 15th century), Washington, London and Paris. In the last 13 years, Native President Evo Morales’ socialist administration has reduced extreme poverty from 38% to 15%, and overall poverty from 60% to 35% (https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/mar/07/how-a-populist-president-helped-bolivias-poor-but-built-himself-a-palace) Socialism shrank the GINI index by an eyepopping 19% and tripled the median household income, something poorer and poorer Euranglolanders can only dream about. (https://www.thenation.com/article/economics-socialism-bolivia-evo/). Until this week, the economy was the fastest growing in the region, averaging over 4% a year (https://www.macrotrends.net/countries/BOL/bolivia/gdp-growth-rate). This will all be stolen back now, post-capitalist coup.

How did this happen? They nationalized key sectors of the economy (stolen land, oil, gas, copper, lithium) and began processing their mineral wealth into value added exports, as explained by deposed Morales here (https://www.rt.com/news/473353-evo-morales-imf-exports-oas/). This money was plowed back into infrastructure (schools, hospitals, rural roads) and social services (health care, education and retirement pensions) to improve the quality of life for the 99%, at the expense of the 1%. They did it without being plundered by IMF-World Bank gangster banksters and their corrupt loans that enrich Wall Street and each country’s local elites. Read John Perkin’s book, Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, which he is now offering for free (https://www.academia.edu/7614432/John_Perkins_Economic_Hit_Man_Summary_of_Confessions_of_an_Economic_Hit_Man_About_John_Perkins_Author_of_Confessions_of_an_Economic_Hit_Man). You can see how the global elite destroy entire economies to starve and exterminate millions of mostly dark-skinned poor, in order to plunder trillions of dollars in assets. Another scathing exposé of how Western elites legally rape the weak, in the guise of the “Liberal World Order” is Paul Blustein’s And the Money Kept Rolling In (and Out), which was being replayed again by Argentina’s neoliberal ex-president Mauricio Macri (https://www.gettextbooks.com/isbn/9781586483814/). More about this snake in a suit below.

Postwar, all of this shows how the transfer of trillions of dollars of human and natural capital are extracted and exploited by Eurangloland, so their poorer and poorer citizens can borrow printed money to buy Huawei/Apple mobile phones, Haier appliances and Lenovo/Dell computers on credit, all manufactured in communist-socialist China, while their elite owners become even bigger trillionaires and billionaires. When the current Western capitalist hyperbubble implodes in the near future, these same citizens will be driven even further into lower standards of living, but not communist-socialist Chinese, North Koreans, Laos, Vietnamese, Cubans, Eritreans and Iranians.

This brings us to the crux of my article. Western Europe, Bolivia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Brazil, Argentina, Mozambique, Angola and all other countries that practice social democracy simply cannot thrive in the global capitalist order, without one key ingredient, and it may not be what you think.

Yes, you can nationalize core industries and second, repatriate stolen land to build agriculture, infrastructure, development and industrialization. The prior was done by Europe and every other social democracy after World War II. The latter was done by China, North Korea, Venezuela, Iran, Cuba, Laos, Vietnam and many others, or former Soviet states like the “Stans” and Belarus, which just kept the land in public hands.

Today, after 75 years of relentless Big Lie Propaganda and neoliberal treachery, almost all of Europe’s key industries have been de-nationalized and much of its public assets have been privatized for profit, in the name of “free market” dogma.

So, land and industry are not enough. Even being armed to the teeth, like Venezuelans is not enough. The US and Europe cannot invade or overthrow the people’s will there, like they do most everywhere else, Bolivia being a prime example. If NATO tried to go in, it would get its butt whipped by many thousands of neighborhood militias https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colectivo_(Venezuela) ). When friends like Rory Hall at The Daily Coin (https://thedailycoin.org/) ardently support gun rights in the United States, I can see his point. Because Venezuela is locked and loaded, it is successfully drawing a line in the geopolitical sands. This is thanks to murdered former president Hugo Chavez (https://www.strategic-culture.org/news/2016/03/14/murder-chavez-cia-and-dea-cover-their-tracks/), who understood Mao Zedong’s rejoinder that revolution must be defended by the barrel of a gun. Thus, Venezuelans will not be occupied by NATO.

But, the West is killing and starving tens of thousands of Venezuelans every year with genocidal economic sanctions and stealing billions of dollars in overseas assets. Sanctions and piracy are nothing more than warfare and crimes against humanity, making a mockery of the United Nations charter.

So, how can social democracies thrive in the face of global capitalist terrorism? The secret to survive and hopefully thrive is to nationalize the media. Venezuela’s media is owned by the same White supremist local elites who are destroying the country, with the help of the CIA and its thousands of faux NGOs. Ditto Bolivia (https://www.telesurenglish.net/news/bolivia-created-over-four-thousand-accounts-to-legitimize-coup-20191113-0011.html). We can see the suffering, slaughter and chaos, as a result.

The following story illustrates the point. When neoliberal thug Macri got elected president of Argentina in 2015, only to destroy the economy with tens of billions of corrupt IMF-World Bank loans that went straight into his and the local elites’ pockets, and on to Wall Street, I asked my friend, Moti Nissani (https://chinarising.puntopress.com/search/?q=moti%20nissani), who lives there, how the people could be duped into voting for such a blatant gangster.

This, after 10 years of socialist success, turning the economy around for the 99% and paying off billions of 1990s IMF-World Bank theft. My friend told me Argentina’s national media is owned lock, stock and barrel by the elites and it proved once again that Big Lie propaganda works. Tell lie after lie long enough, over and over, and people will accept it as reality, regardless of the facts and proof in their daily lives. Argentina’s elites vomited anti-socialist, pro-neoliberal Western Big Lie Propaganda on the masses and after ten years of being brainwashed, they elected to commit collective socioeconomic suicide.

Socialists just won to replace Macri, and like after the 1990s, will again be stuck fixing Wall Street’s gang bang in the making. But Washington, London and Paris will do everything possible to destroy them, while the local elite media will crank up the Big Lie Propaganda Machine (BLPM) into hyperdrive, to do the same.

This is why Hugo Chavez created the Pan-American, state owned media company, TeleSUR (https://www.telesurenglish.net/index.html). The problem is, with Latin America’s media being owned by gangster elites, they can exclude it in their TV programming and censor it in their press and on the internet.

The only countries hanging on, in a world of global capitalist pain, are the ones that openly tell their people they own and manage the media via the state, in the interest of social harmony, economic prosperity and to protect the nation from Eurangloland’s nonstop sabotage. This includes China, North Korea, Laos (where my wife and I just spent a few days and really enjoyed it), Vietnam, Cuba, Iran, Eritrea and I suspect most of the former Soviet republics. They all obviously know these famous quotes by heart…

Former CIA director William Casey famously said,

We’ll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false.

Ex-CIA director William Colby spoke the truth too,

The Central Intelligence Agency owns everyone of any significance in the major media.

Carl Bernstein was told by a high-ranking CIA officer,

One journalist is worth twenty agents [spies in the field].

I used these three quotes when writing The China Trilogy (see below). They and all my research prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the West has a very highly orchestrated press and tightly censored media, just like George Orwell and Aldous Huxley predicted. Another book I quoted in The China Trilogy is Edward Bernays’ Propaganda (easy to download for free online), where he truthfully stated,

The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of… We are dominated by the relatively small number of persons…who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires which control the public mind.

Can it be any clearer than that, my dear Euranglolanders? Yet most of my fellow Westerners will go to the mat that they have “free press” and “liberty”. It’s a cruel mirage. When the 1% controls the media, the elites can turn the people into zombified sheeple, enriching themselves with Orwellian perpetual war, while keeping the masses entertained to death. Sheldon Wolin called this inverted totalitarianism, something I’ve also included in my books, because clueless citizens cannot recognize or admit the truth slapping them in the face. His book, Democracy Inc. is an essential primer to understand the simulacrum world Westerners live in (https://www.gettextbooks.com/isbn/9780691135663/).

Edward Bernays simply took the Nazi Big Lie playbook, then called it “publicity” and “public relations”. The CIA-Western corporate media adopted it very successfully to brainwash unsuspecting billions around the world – but not in China, North Korea, Laos, Vietnam, Cuba, Eritrea and former Soviet republics.

In my interview with James Bradley, he said that Western media is state managed and controlled (http://chinarising.puntopress.com/2018/04/06/james-bradley-tells-it-like-it-is-on-china-rising-radio-sinoland-180406/), namely by the CIA, NSA, the Departments of Defense and State. Douglas Valentine said the same thing in our discussion (https://chinarising.puntopress.com/2019/07/02/douglas-valentine-on-china-rising-radio-sinoland-the-cia-is-global-capitalisms-secret-gangster-army-190702/). Hell, the CIA owns and finances (with its global heroin and cocaine empire) billions of dollars in media companies and outlets around the world. How can we expect anything differently (https://www.globalresearch.ca/the-cia-and-the-media-50-facts-the-world-needs-to-know/5471956)?

France’s Yellow Vests notwithstanding (no surprise – whose continuing protests in the thousands have been completely flushed down the West’s Orwellian Memory Hole, https://thesaker.is/?s=Ramin+Mazaheri+Yellow+Vests), Eurangloland is a lost cause, but any other country that does not want to be raped and plundered by gangster bankster Wall Street, invaded and occupied by NATO and have their people exterminated and starved, needs to nationalize its media 100%, like China, Iran and elsewhere. Otherwise, the devolution into a neoliberal, police state hellhole, like Eurangloland, or color revolution chaos, butchery and theft, like much of Latin America, Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Ukraine and too many others to count, is all but guaranteed.

The other policy they need to adopt is a strong NGO control law, like Russia, China and India have done (http://chinarising.puntopress.com/2016/04/30/baba-beijing-lowers-the-communist-boom-on-foreign-ngos-china-rising-radio-sinoland-16-4-30/). Some NGOs do good work, but too many are nothing more than color revolution shell fronts for the CIA-media complex to destroy countries from the inside. Today’s Western destruction of Hong Kong is a prime example (https://chinarising.puntopress.com/2019/07/08/confucius-laozi-and-buddha-are-humbly-winning-against-the-imperial-west-in-troubled-hong-kong-china-rising-radio-sinoland-190708/ and https://chinarising.puntopress.com/2019/07/20/wests-hong-kong-color-revolution-still-making-a-mess-of-the-place-and-totally-backfiring-china-rising-radio-sinoland-190720/).

In closing, the one exception to this is Russia, which does not have 100% nationalized media. However, for economic prosperity, social harmony and to protect the people from Western sabotage, the government works hard to control and censor destabilizing (fake) news, as this article shows (https://www.comparitech.com/blog/vpn-privacy/tech-giant-censorship/), staying on top of Twitter, Google and Facebook propaganda.

Russia is a social democracy, with a large, successful people owned industrial sector and many social services for the 99% from the Soviet era. But, unlike Bolivia and Ukraine, it is avoiding the West’s color revolution poison pill, because since 1999, Russia has gone from strength to strength, under the inspired leadership of patriotic President Vladimir Putin. But like all social democracies, the problem is what happens if another Western whore Boris Yeltsin succeeds Putin, and returns Russia to its dystopian Wall Street rape of the 1990s? Then what? It only took Macri four short years to bring Argentina back onto its groveling knees. Without a 100% nationalized media, Russians had better be demanding that Putin & Russian Patriots Inc. work overtime to censor all the Western overthrow garbage that is put in Cyrillic ink and on the airwaves.

I would love to hear what my good friend Andrei Raevsky thinks about this at The Saker (http://thesaker.is/), because let’s be honest: without China’s, Russia’s and Iran’s continued anti-imperial independence and socialist success into the 21st century, humanity can kiss its ass goodbye!

###

Jeff J. Brown is the author of The China Trilogy (https://chinarising.puntopress.com/2018/06/30/praise-for-the-china-trilogy-the-votes-are-in-it-r-o-c-k-s-what-are-you-waiting-for/), blogs and podcasts at www.chinarising.puntopress.com. His forthcoming book, Faster than a Speeding Bullet – the Chinese People’s Unstoppable Socialist Dream for Global Leadership into the 22nd Century, will be released in 2021.

Creative Commons: This article by Jeff J. Brown is available for re-publication free of charge under Creative Commons. It may be translated into any language and republished anywhere in the world. Editing is permitted of the article(s). You may edit my article(s) and bio to correct spelling, grammar, word usage and any misstatement of facts.

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If you edit and publish my article(s) the only request is that the intended meaning in my article(s) not be changed or taken out of context. You may use the suggested graphics, which to the best of my knowledge are available free under Creative Commons, but I cannot guarantee that they may be used without the permission of their creator and/or owner. You may select your own choice of graphics, pictures and /and or videos (or none) that complement the intended meaning of my article. Please share and distribute this article widely. My contact email is [email protected].

#Bolivia #China #Venezuela