#a deeply inconvenient association!

[derbophobia]

one of the worst things abt me is that bc i got into therapy at 13 and was able to get a huge headstart on working thru very common problems, i associate those common problems with immaturity just due to them being smth i only rlly felt while like 12-15. so now im sitting here experiencing a very widespread and normal self esteem issue and my brain is like WOOOOOW. you sound like such an annoying little juvenile baby rn. meanwhile its a self image issue that most ppl deal with at my age

#its the weirdest thing honestly #a deeply inconvenient association! #like this isnt the problem dw but for example like #i only experienced my ed from age 12-16 right #so now if i were to suddenly be having Those sorts of thoughts #my brain genuinely is like wow cant believe youre having little bitchbaby problems that only ever affect little babies you dummy #as if eds are only for preteens???

[raina-at]

Experiments in Compatibility

When Sherlock is 16, he decides he needs to find out what the fuss about kissing is about. So he decides to conduct an experiment. 

He can’t imagine kissing a total stranger — the practice sounds slightly disgusting and unhygienic with someone he knows, let alone someone who might never brush their teeth — so he decides to try it out with Victor, his one and only friend.

It turns out to be a grievous mistake. Sherlock likes the kissing fine, he also likes Victor fine. But Victor takes his academic interest in kissing and his non-hatred of Victor’s company as meaning that they’re in a relationship now. Which is fine by Sherlock up to the point Victor tries to stick his hand down Sherlock’s pants, and then it becomes decidedly not-fine very, very fast.

Victor is obviously hurt by Sherlock “leading him on”, but to his credit he tries to get over it when it becomes obvious that Sherlock wasn’t so much leading him on so much as their assumptions about their relationship just didn’t align at all. Also, they’re both sixteen and have no earthly idea what they’re doing. 

But Sherlock learns two very important lessons from this. One, experiments with sex don’t mix with friendships you want to keep. Two, friends are harder to find than lovers, so prioritise the friendship.

*-*

All through his twenties, Sherlock only has sex with people he doesn’t give a damn about. He also has enough of it to decide that it’s not for him. The list of things he enjoys is very short, and most people he has sex with have expectations he can’t or doesn’t want to meet. 

The few times he’s attracted to someone, the attraction never survives the first sexual encounter, and the process often leaves him either bored, annoyed, disgusted or all three. 

By thirty, he decides romantic entanglements are more trouble than they’re worth and any bodily needs he can meet more efficiently by himself.

*-*

John Watson is an asteroid strike right into the center of his carefully crafted self-image.

The attraction is immediate, but he can ignore that easily. If only John wasn’t this… interesting.

John is nice and kind and lonely and abrasive, he’s a killer and a healer, he’s a loner who craves company, a soldier who defines himself by service to a higher good, whatever that may be, whose self-esteem is tied to being useful. He’s a deeply damaged, very intelligent, exceptionally capable man, wearing the skin of the everyman, deeply vulnerable yet outwardly stoic, the very embodiment of the stiff upper lip. He’s reliable and unpredictable, angry and calm, he’s the immoveale object to Sherlock’s unstoppable force.

Sherlock loves him. It’s as simple as that. He falls in love with John gradually, helplessly, with opened eyes and fully aware of what’s happening, yet entirely incapable of stopping it. He loves John intensely, honestly, deeply and — unfortunately — passionately. 

He loves the colour of John’s eyes and the smell of his hair and the fine golden hairs on his arms. He loves John’s ugly jumpers and his compact strength and the shape of his toes. He loves John’s kneecaps, his capable hands, the economy of his movements, the expressiveness of his face. It’s ridiculous, and highly inconvenient, and frankly distracting.

He doesn’t know what to do about it. He has several options. He could ignore it and hope it goes away, which doesn’t seem very likely to happen. He could end his association with John, but the mere thought makes him nauseous. He could, to use a popular phrase, ‘make a move’. He’s almost sure that he would be successful — John spends a lot of time staring at Sherlock’s lips, chest and arse — but what then? What if he doesn’t like it? What if he loses interest? What if it ruins their friendship? What if John leaves?

And the worst thing about all of this is that he will never know if he doesn’t try it, but trying and failing could have catastrophic consequences, and not in the usual way his experiments fail. A kitchen fire is inconsequential, even mild chemical burns are of no consequence, but he could end up losing everything.

So Sherlock thinks, and broods, and sulks, and does nothing.

*-*

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I need to guess?” John says one evening, sitting down next to Sherlock on the sofa. He’s sitting far too close, and he’s wearing a patient expression and holding out a cup of tea.

Sherlock spent the last three days turning around the John Watson conundrum in his mind and is frankly running out of patience. So he snaps, “I’m trying to figure out whether sex with you would ruin our friendship. Thoughts?”

John blinks once. Blinks again. Sets down the tea very deliberately. Blinks a third time. “Come again?”

“Bang on the money, John, yes, we’re talking about coming. Sex. You and me. Having it.”

“I can’t believe you just made an orgasm joke,” John says, apparently still trying to process what else Sherlock just said. “So.” He blinks again. Wets his lips (definitely interested, then). “You… want? To have sex with me?”

“Obviously, otherwise we wouldn’t have a problem!” 

“The problem is that I don’t actually like sex all that much, and you obviously love it, given your reputation and the number of imbecilic girlfriends you’ve dragged in here,” Sherlock grinds out between clenched teeth, the frustration of the last few months spilling over in anger that’s probably misdirected at John.

“Um…” Again with the blinking. Sherlock hates himself a bit for finding it adorable. “What’s the problem, exactly? Because you want to, and I definitely want to, so…” he makes a 'fill in the gaps for me’ kind of gesture.

John, fortunately, seems to be extremely flattered and keenly interested in getting into Sherlock’s pants, and is apparently prepared to take his irritation in stride in order to get there. “Okay. Um. So. I think… so you don’t like having sex at all?”

“I like some things fine, others not at all,” Sherlock says, suddenly very aware of how close John is sitting to him, how much of their thighs are touching, and that John’s taken his hand and is rubbing his thumb over Sherlock’s finger knuckles in a very distracting way.

“Let’s start simple,” John says, and there’s a small smile playing over his face, his voice is low and he’s watching Sherlock with an intensity that’s both sexy and somewhat intimidating. “Kissing?”

Sherlock nods, suddenly beyond words. 

John leans over and presses his lips against Sherlock’s, soft and tender and oh so good. Sherlock kisses back, and before he knows it, they’re snogging. John’s really good at this, alternating deep, toe-curling kisses with soft, teasing kisses and gentle, tender kisses. Sherlock immediately loves it, wants more, knows he’ll never get enough. 

After an indeterminate time, John draws back and smiles. “I think we can work with that, what do you think?”

“But what if I don’t like it?” Sherlock mutters, unsure and hating that it shows.

“Then we won’t do it.”

“But what if I don’t like any of it?”

“Then we won’t do any of it,” John says, matter of fact, as if it’s that simple. 

Sherlock’s scepticism must show on his face, because John gives him a reassuring smile. “Look. I know it’s not easy, but do you think you can trust me with this, just a little?”

“Well, since I’m inconveniently in love with you, I suppose I’m going to have to,” Sherlock says, 

John grins at him, and Sherlock wonders how he can be this happy when Sherlock is this much of a mess. “Well, I’m inconveniently in love with you too. I think with a bit of experimenting, we can figure the rest out.”

“But you don’t like it when I experiment on you,” Sherlock points out.

“This isn’t you experimenting on me. This is us, experimenting together. Big difference.” John pushes a strand of hair out of Sherlock’s face, a gesture so unsexual and yet so tender it makes Sherlock’s heart melt. “I get that you’re scared. Believe me, I’m scared, too. This is big, and there’s little room for error. But the reward is definitely worth the risk, don’t you think?”

Sherlock considers the logic of what John is saying and decides it’s sound. “You make a good point.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes agrees with me. Truly a special day.”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Sherlock says, already looking forward to using this technique every time John berates him about setting the kitchen on fire.

“As you wish,” John says with a soft smile and complies.

Thanks for the prompt, @calaisreno! Written for the prompt Experiments.

Tagging a few of the usual suspects: @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk @jrow @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @catlock-holmes @thetimemoves @discordantwords @the-reading-lemon @khorazir @hotshoeagain @keirgreeneyes and whoever wants to play!

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #microfic #may 2023 prompts #experiment

[winebrightruby]

I'm not Catholic and never have been. What I am, in practice, is New Orleanian, and New Orleans is deeply culturally Catholic (far beyond what the numbers would show. like I didn't realize how pervasive certain things were in Louisiana as a whole until I moved to Alabama and started getting blank stares back).

Tomorrow is the feast of Our Lady of Prompt Succor, so I've just been thinking about her. The two patrons of the City - OLPS and St. Expedite - are both associated not only with providing aid but doing so immediately, without delay or hesitation. The beyond-generous, open-armed approach to helping, giving succor and sanctuary.

And New Orleans has always been that for me. I discovered through years of trial and error that if I talk too much about the minor nice things that happen, they'll stop happening, so I have to be a bit vague here. But New Orleans gifted me a thousand conveniences a day and asked nothing in return but my love, which I was giving freely anyway. It's beyond a joyous experience to live somewhere that you love, and that you can feel loving you back in equal or greater measure, in quantifiable ways, all the time.

She does so much. The incredible sweetness of that city and how much I adore her in return, how everything I ever needed or even wanted in a passing moment, I could just voice and it would essentially fall into my lap. I don't know what to say to people who ask "how did you do [x piece of magic]" because it's like, I asked nicely? Or equally often, I complained out loud because it inconvenienced me? I don't know how to replicate that without the years of devotion, piety, bribery, and adoration.

But anyway, Our Lady of Prompt Succor. Over 30 years I lived in Louisiana. For 12 years I lived in New Orleans or the swampy depths of further-south Louisiana. And she's been there for me with every request, prayer, tearful plea, every single thing. So tonight and tomorrow I'm feasting Our Lady; I'm thanking the mother of New Orleans for all the times she's been my mother too, shooing inconveniences out of my path and giving me that thing I wanted just because I said I wanted it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

#the Crescent City #my life is boring #my practice #Our Lady of Prompt Succor #⚜️

[isfjmel-phleg]

After my presentation of the Secret Garden and CEN paper, someone in the audience asked about applying the lens of CEN to other children's book from the same era. I thought about it afterward, and the best example that came to mind was Anne of Green Gables.

Anne Shirley, before her arrival at Green Gables, has experienced CEN. It has played out in a much different way for her than it does for Mary and Colin in TSG, due to differences in social class, but the principle has been the same. As an orphan raised in homes that viewed her as an inconvenience and a sort of unpaid servant, she has never had an adult in her life who prioritized her emotional well-being, who took the time to be kind to her, to listen to her, to teach her how to function in the world beyond basic survival. She is aware that no one wants her after her parents' death, and she is made to feel guilty by her caretakers for having the audacity to exist and need to be "brought up by hand." It's difficult for Anne to even talk about these experiences when Marilla asks her. She's relieved to get relating them over with, because "Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not wanted her."

And then there's this exchange:

“Were those women—Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond—good to you?” asked Marilla, looking at Anne out of the corner of her eye. “O-o-o-h,” faltered Anne. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. “Oh, they meant to be—I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don’t mind very much when they’re not quite—always. They had a good deal to worry them, you know. It’s a very trying to have a drunken husband, you see; and it must be very trying to have twins three times in succession, don’t you think? But I feel sure they meant to be good to me.”

Anne has clearly been mistreated, but she's describing--and pointedly not describing--suggests less of aggression and physical harm and more of something missing, an emptiness, a lack of love--CEN. Likewise, she herself exhibits some signs that can be associated with this type of maltreatment. Difficulty with emotional regulation, attachment problems, extreme sensitivity to rejection, negativity toward herself, excessively immersing herself in imagination (a mild dissociative tendency), anxiety around social situations (regarding how to behave correctly and whether people will like her), etc.

And in a way, the entire first book of the series deals with how she finds healing from her past of CEN, through gaining the love and acceptance of her new family, of friends, of an entire community.

From what little I know of L. M. Montgomery's life, CEN was likely a factor in her own upbringing, and it repeatedly features in her novels (The Blue Castle and Jane of Lantern Hill, for instance, in particular feature heroines who have experienced CEN) with poignancy. Montgomery paints moving portraits of how badly children can be scarred by a lack of love and affirmation.

Anyway, situating Anne's backstory as rooted in CEN helped me put my finger on one of the reasons that I felt that the recent series Anne With an E--at least the first season, which is all I've seen--misunderstood the nature of Anne's past. In this version, we see flashbacks to Anne's past, in which she is being viciously bullied by other children for her talkativeness and imagination. They even go so far as to stuff a mouse into her mouth, and the show suggests that Anne has PTSD as a result of this kind of treatment.

And yeah, Anne's childhood in the book isn't great and clearly has hurt her deeply, but this interpretation felt off to me. What Anne has to say--and not say--about her past in the book suggests not that she was targeted as an object of others' aggression but that she was disregarded. No one was giving her a second thought. That's not as dramatic and shocking as vicious bullying, but it's another, more subtle, insidious kind of maltreatment, just as hurtful in its way but harder to pin down. It's easy to portray a quick, sensational scene of our protagonist being obviously, overtly, grandiosely mistreated, but how do you show the gradual piling up of years' and years' of being treated like you don't matter? All the tiny incidents that chip away at one's sense of self-worth? The building of a worldview in which you must earn love and acceptance but somehow you can never manage it and of course it's your own fault?

And I'm reminded how recent adaptations and retellings of TSG shift the narrative toward grief, which is easy to dramatize, big and impressive and full of obvious pathos. It's an easy way out of depicting a subtler kind of suffering, and the same way, Anne With an E replaces Anne's CEN with bullying and PTSD. There is a place for such stories, but Anne's isn't one of them. It's almost as if there's an inability to understand or a reluctance to depict any kind of suffering that isn't big and grand and shocking. There are many ways that people can be deeply hurt, and it doesn't always look like a major traumatic event that's easy to pinpoint. Sometimes the hurt isn't a tidal wave that engulfs in a single devastating event; it's a slow drip that erodes oneself away little by little. That's closer to what is depicted for Anne, and Montgomery's other protagonists who have experienced CEN, and it's important to recognize what exactly is going on because this sort of thing still happens every day in the real world, in many forms, and it needs to be seen and combatted. And seeing this form of maltreatment play out in literature helps us recognize it and empathize with and reach out to those whom it has impacted--or possibly even to identify it in our own histories and search for our own healing.

#I apologize if not everything is phrased perfectly - I'm just working through some initial thoughts on this #but I hope the point of what I'm trying to communicate will get through

[spanishskulduggery]

In my lesson: "¿Se te olvida la respuesta?" or "Do you forget the answer?" It feels like there are too many pronouns at the beginning of that question, plus "olvida" looks like it's in third person (not formal, because it's "te" not "le"). Why isn't it just "¿Olvidas la respuesta?" What is actually bein asked?

This is actually very advanced grammar so bear with me

-

First: se has many uses; typically it's associated with reflexive verbs but it has other uses too

Verbs that take reflexives often end in -se or use se in them; there's lavar "to wash" then lavarse "to wash oneself"

But then some verbs take se as a way to show that the meaning of the verb has slightly changed.

Second: The se + indirect object + verb is part of "superfluous dative" and often comes up in dativo ético

What this basically means is that you're using dative [indirect objects] in a way that seems superfluous, but it does it to show a deeper meaning that is often translated into English as "different" than normal verbs

As an example, ir is "to go" and irse is "to go away"... the use of a se here is translated as very different from the regular ir .....some of them change meaning quite a bit; acordar is "to come to an agreement" while acordarse is "to remember"

...

The addition of the indirect object here also marks who is most affected by verb suddenly being weird. I explain it most often with romper:

Rompí el carro. = I broke the car. [feels intentional] Se rompió el carro. = The car broke down. [on its own] Se me rompió el carro. = "The car up and died on me." [superfluous dative; "the car broke down by itself... and it affects me"]

Though superfluous dative is an umbrella term, the idea of dativo ético or "ethical dative" refers to something I've seen translated as "a deep or profound and intrinsic value attachment that is shown to affect a person via the indirect object"

...Which is to say, "this thing happened (usually by itself or without it being anyone's fault) and it deeply affects them"

The deep/profound value attachment they mean is usually inconvenience or surprise... something unexpected and outside of someone's control

You'll see these expressions where "the bus up and left without me" rather than "I missed the bus" which assumes some kind of control over the situation; or you could see "my tooth fell out from me" instead of "I lost a tooth"

-

With olvidar you see this a lot too. People don't always use olvidar by itself as "to forget" because they sometimes see it as being purposeful

You often instead see olvidarse where it's part of that dativo ético... No reason for it to have the reflexive but people would rather say me olvidé (de algo) which comes out like "I forgot all about it" rather than "I (decided) to forget" as olvidar

THEN you get se me olvidó el libro "I forgot the book" which is literally "the book forgot itself to me"

This is the se + indirect object + verb; but keep in mind the olvidar is conjugated according to the object:

Se me olvidó la respuesta. = The answer slipped my mind. Se me olvidaron las llaves. = I forgot my keys.

For your purposes with olvidar it will be:

Se + me/te/le/les/nos/os + olvida + la respuesta

Or in plural it would be the above + olvidan las respuestas

I translate it a lot like "to slip one's mind" rather than "forget" because it feels more passive and helps people understand it more; "the answer slipped my mind" rather than "I forgot the answer"

But both are viable translations, if that makes sense

...

In other words:

se me olvida (la respuesta) "I forget (the answer)", se te olvida "you forget", se le olvida "he/she forgets" or "you (usted) forgets", se les olvida "they forget" / "you all (ustedes) forget", se nos olvida "we forget"

Or you could say "the answer slips (someone's) mind"

Or use se me/te/le/les/nos/os olvidan for plural for "they slip (someone's) mind"

-

I'm sorry this was a lot to unpack and understand and trust me this is not the sort of thing that you get taught in classes

If there's anything that didn't make sense, let me know and I'll try to explain it more

#asks #spanish #learning spanish #spanish grammar #langblr #language #languages #la gramatica #long post #dativo etico

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

A short one shot fic about Bob’s disguise as Barbra.

Check it out under the readmore.

Alright, moment of truth. Time to see if all the practice and costume tweaking would pay off.

While the possession amulets were extremely handy for going out in public without anyone getting suspicious. 

Since when Bob hid inside her, he was totally hidden from the world. And when she was hidden in Bob, so long as no one saw them switch, their association with each other would be similarly hidden.

It had been getting increasingly clear that this "only one of them existing at a time" thing was not without its own inconveniences. 

In particular, feeding into Bobs cabin fever. 

Cabin fever makes him want to go out more. 

And going out more means more cannibal serial killing.

She doesn't have access to drugs or jail bars to hold him. Her capacity to protect people from him is painfully limited.

So she's been trying to get creative with the damage control.

So came the idea for Barbra.

And the disguise has been made, and the acting has been practiced. The backstory, hopefully memorized.

Now all that was left was a test run.

They parked the truck in front of a small, nowhere sort of bar. Place where there shouldn't be many people, generally a bit more rough and tumble group without super easy targets, and especially no kids that could get caught in the crossfire.

Though her mind and nerves were still buzzing with everything that could go wrong.

"Alright, tell me again the number one rule of this whole scheme."

Bob rolled his eyes from under his sunglasses, but was more amused at her stressing out than annoyed.

"Don't try huntin or hurtin people while playin Barbra."

"Right. If you act suspicious as Barbra, it puts both of us at risk, because people can use me to track down the house to catch us unawares. Then we're either in prison or on the run with no money. Or possibly dead if someone tracks us down who doesn't care to take you in alive."

They start walking towards the bar as she continues.

"So remember, you're Barbra Freeman, a butch lesbian truck driver, but you got in a car accident awhile ago, and had been recovering for a few months. You're wearing sunglasses even while indoors cus the accident left you with a light sensitivity. Just, smalltalk, and not being suspicious."

"Sugarcube, I spent years playin innocent with nobody suspecting a thing. I know how to play nice."

"Yeah and that was awhile ago and you're clearly years out of practice, because in all the time I've known you, you've just been a deeply weird and unsettling person.

Also you're in public in costume Barb, Use the Barbra voice, don't break character."

Already she was losing confidence in Bob's ability to follow the plan. Though Bob, if anything, seemed overconfident. He switches up his tone to a more feminine sounding one, snaking an arm over her shoulders and teasing.

"Right, I'm supposed to be your hot piece of arm candy today. Well, I wouldn't want to deprive ya of a bit of extra time alone with your girlfriend."

She had liked how he hadn't had any problem with disguising himself as a woman. After all it'd be a pretty big insult to write off your whole gender as something gross and embarrassing. Though him being a bit too into it is something her asexual antisocial ass doesn't really know what to do with. 

Least beyond getting embarrassed by it. Which in turn gets a chuckle out of Bob. 

They head in, and Bob confidently goes to take a seat at the bar, while she takes a moment to nervously scope the place out. There were a few people, not too crowded, not to empty. And they don't seem to be turning many heads.

Before going and taking a seat next to him.

Where Bob puts his arm back around her to mumbles in her ear.

"Loosen up honeymuffin, or you'll be the one making us look suspicious."

Yeah, he's right. They're supposed to at least be friends. Even in a relationship in order to explain away if Bob gets too affectionate. 

She tries taking a deep breath and calming down.

Just order something nonalcoholic and chill for awhile. Try to make some small talk. 

Despite how terrible she is at small talk in general.

Though Bob was already well aware of her not being the chatty sort. So he takes more the lead for talking with the bartender, and with her.

Though really that more ends up with him teasing her while she tries not to look too embarrassed.

At least Bob could do a pretty convincing imitation of a tough middle aged southern woman though. 

Still a relatively deep voice, but not so overt that it couldn't be passed off as "Barbra" having just being a big woman who used to smoke.

She had the feeling he'd gotten some first hand experience learning a number of nuances, and was probably doing an impression of female relatives or family friends or something from his past. 

Probably from where he'd gotten his own accent, but she didn't like to pry. 

And if she did, now wouldn't be the time for it.

Her head was still on a swivel, despite her attempts to keep it casual. It was hard not to be paranoid. Too many things that could go wrong. Bob was keeping up a conversation with the bartender, so might be a good time to stretch her legs a bit.

"I'll be right back, don't get too crazy without me Barb."

"Heh, you got it darlin."

She went to the back, and thankfully the women's bathroom was empty, so she took a moment to try and calm her nerves and catch her breath. 

It's one thing to be around Bob, worrying what he might do. But it was another to put on a cheerful facade on top of that, instead of being her usual irritable self.

She really didn't want to go back out there, and her mood is only worsened as she mentally scolds herself for her hesitancy.

It's unpleasant, but this is the better of her options. The longer she can keep Bob busy the less time he'll have for killing.

Come on.

Get back out there. 

You have to supervise the serial killer. This is your idea he's going along with. 

Just gotta have him keep his word. Shouldn't be that hard.

And even if it is, no amount of discomfort is worth an innocent persons life.

Suck it up.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and tried smiling. It didn't last long before her face quickly sunk 

"Uggh, this is what I get for not putting any effort in with those customer service jobs when I had the chance."

Maybe she can still keep attention away from Bob and not clue people in that she's basically a hostage, while still acting like a miserable unpleasant person who'd rather eat gravel than chit-chat about the weather or the news or some shit.

She leaves the bathroom. 

“!!!!” Shit!! Someone's gone to sit with Bob! Looks like some kind of biker guy, on the big and tall side, kinda weathered looking. The kind of guy who could probably take care of himself. Her panic spikes nonetheless. 

Ok, calm down, he's out in public, he's gonna talk to some people. It's expected. Doesn't mean the worst is gonna happen yet. 

Sure he can always just overpower her if he decides to change his mind and not go along with the plan. But that hasn't happened yet.

She goes to sit down at the bar, on the other side of Bob, not interrupting his conversation with the biker guy. Just quietly listening. Supervising.

And…. Dang this dude really is just outright flirting with Bob. Guy must be into large women. 

And Bobs rolling with it. Just liking the attention and teasing the biker guy back.

Well, it's better than Bob getting offended, and he's having fun with it, so this is probably fine so long as it doesn't go anywhere. 

And she expects that this is a pretty solid bit of evidence that the Barbra disguise is working. So guess the experiment is a success. They could probably be seen in more crowded locations without people recognizing Bob.

Get him out wasting time doing random stuff so he's too busy to stalk victims.

Uggh, this means she'll have to get out of the house more to do random stuff too and - HOLY SHIT BIKER GUY JUST ASKED BOB OUT.

She'll have to mourn the loss of her weird hermit life later, because NO WAY IS SHE LETTING BOB TAKE THIS GUY TO NO SECONDARY LOCATION!!!!

Shit! How the heck is she supposed to play this off??? Uuuuuuuggghhhh this is gonna be so embarrassing. 

She puts on a pissed off face and threatens.

"Excuse me pal, that's my girlfriend you're hitting on, and believe fucking me, this…"

She gestures up and down at Bob.

"This lady right here is a lot more than you're prepared to deal with. Come on Barbra."

She grabs Bob by the hand and starts tugging him towards the door, to which Bob smiles and lets himself be led out, while the biker guy just looks kinda flabbergasted at what just happened as they quickly leave the bar.

She walks for a moment, heading towards the truck, still holding onto Bobs hand. 

Before Bob interrupts her anxious mood, saying in his normal voice, though with an additional low suggestive tone layered on, rather than his Barbra affect.

"Yuh know, I think I like you gettin jealous over me for a change."

Her face goes red. And she lets go of Bobs hand.

"Shut up Barb, it's not jealousy and you know it. I just didn’t want you hurting that man."

Bob grabs her hand again to pull her into a hug.

"Fightin over me for other reasons ain't half bad either."

#bob velseb #spooky month #inner demon #Possession #yandere

[ask-lord-morgarath]

Much Like I Scoff At Your Ineptitude

Greetings, subordinates! It seems that some of you fragile souls are struggling to maintain equilibrium in the face of life's minor inconveniences- most notably @eccevenitvulpes of the Tumblr realm, at whose request I penned this guide upon the methods of warding off anxiety attacks. Yes, I, Lord Morgarath of the Mountains of Rain and Night, shall graciously bestow upon you my unparalleled wisdom and restore a semblance of composure to your chaotic existence.

When you feel the first tendrils of anxiety creeping up on you like the desperate pleas of peasants begging for scraps, take a moment to breathe. This is something even a barnyard animal can manage; surely you can do it too. Inhale deeply through your nose, filling those puny lungs of yours, and exhale slowly through your mouth. Repeat until you regain a veneer of self-composure.

Now, you must realize that anxiety is nothing more than your feeble mind playing tricks on you. Summon whatever minuscule amount of willpower you possess and confront those absurd thoughts head-on. Question their validity. Are you truly in mortal danger, or are you just catastrophizing? If the solution befuddles you, rest assured it's the latter. Take a moment to scoff at your unease, much like I scoff at your ineptitude. Ridicule it for the pathetic excuse for fear that it is. Picture it as a sniveling coward groveling in the corner of your subconscious. Show it no mercy, for when does it ever show you any?

Turn your attention next to the matter of distraction. Attempt to muster enough cognitive function to divert your attention elsewhere. Find something, anything, to distract your brain from its downward spiral into panic. Count backwards from 100, recite the names of every dullard you've ever encountered, or envision yourself triumphing over your own incompetence.

If all else fails, seek solace in the company of others. No doubt there are fellow imbeciles with whom you may join forces and engage in mindless chatter, or better yet, in a group activity that requires minimal brainpower. Perhaps a game of chance, such as dice rolling or rock-leaf-swords, shall suffice to distract you from your mental irrationalities. Should you be unable to locate such associates, an animal will often provide better companionship than a human ever could.

In conclusion, my dear inferiors, warding off an anxiety attack is a simple matter of mustering the meager remnants of your intellect and taking basic actions to cut away the thorns attempting to strangle your ineffectual minds. Follow these steps faithfully, and perhaps you'll emerge from your next anxiety attack with a shred of dignity intact, or better yet, ward the anxiety off entirely.

#lord morgarath's guide to everything #lord morgarath #morgarath #baron morgarath #rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice

[no-where-new-hero]

Hi, thank you so, so much for your previous commentary! If you find a time and energy (and, of course, if it isn't an inconvenience), it would be lovely to hear your thoughts about this paragraph:

"Barney remembered Mr. Towers—Cissy had spoken kindly of his sympathy and warmth in the terrible days following her baby’s death. But he did not understand Valancy’s joke about Dr. Stalling, and she had said “marry me”—not “us.” The singular swooped at him with all his misgivings. She wanted to be married—and to him, if there was no one else. But he was also to be married, and some masculine rebellion rose in him. He had said yes to her—she must say the same to him.

“Will you marry me as I stand?” he demanded, knowing what a terrible picture he must make. Praying it might be even more bedraggled than usual. He thought absently of the proposal he made to Ethel—the pale pink roses in a glass bowl at the hotel dining room table, the ten-thousand dollar diamond, his stammered sonnet he had composed for the occasion, the stiff cap of his pressed-down hair, her expectant, ladylike smile. He could no longer remember how she sounded when she accepted."

It was absolutely gorgeous. I especially loved the way you described the differences between Ethel/Barney's (or was it "Bernie", then?) and Valancy/Barney's proposals. The images of pale pink roses, expensive diamond ring and fancy restaurant stand in striking contrast to the simple "Will you marry me?"

I am sorry to send another ask so soon after the previous one, but, truth be told, I meant to include the paragraph about Ethel/Barney's engagement in my previous ask and somehow didn't...

Of course, please, don't feel pressed for time! I'll be happy to hear from you anytime. Thank you so much in advance!

Ahhh thank you for another ask!! Don’t apologize at all, tumblr is my home these days lol.

This passage is actually really interesting because practically every single person who left me an Ao3 comment referenced this part, and I’m a bit like ???? what did I do here that worked so well??? so I’d like to see for myself what was going on.

I guess I started off here trying to get across from Valancy blithely talking about Mr. Towers to Barney’s rather peremptory demand of “will you marry me as I stand,” which happens (in my mind) a bit abruptly in canon. Because, God knows, all Valancy has been doing for the entire chapter is telling him that she would marry him like that in no uncertain terms, so I felt I needed to dig into Barney’s headspace for why he would need to ask her. And I thought back to later on in the book, where we do learn there’s a certain…masterful quality about Barney as a man? He’s not emasculated to the point where he’ll let someone else do all his thinking for him, and he’s also deeply insecure. He’s traditional enough to also need to do his own proposing, and I felt that was what would prompt him to ask her. He also wants to be the worst version of himself in that moment because if Valancy can marry that, then maybe he can live with himself. Which is, of course, contrasted to Ethel’s contribution to his own self-loathing.

As for his memory of proposing to Ethel, all I had in mind was the most stiffly Edwardian setting possible—a hotel—and all the polite artificiality I associate with that. Flickers of E.M. Forster adaptations and Titanic were possibly going through my head. I needed Barney/Bernie to do something kind of adorable but pathetic—the kind of adorable and pathetic thing you do when you’re in the throes of young love—and so thus the stammered sonnet was born. This is his social milieu but in some ways he’s entirely out of his depth. I think I had a sense that this was really Ethel’s world—she was the one with the power in that moment because she wants all these things he can give her—but she doesn’t want him. Whereas, now, Barney can wrest equality with Valancy. And he can’t remember how Ethel sounded when she accepted because, somehow, it was never about her saying yes—it was going through a ridiculous society pantomime. Nothing of the honesty in this moment.

Thank you for the second ask! If there’s any more places you were curious about, pls feel free to keep sending them in :)) (and thanks for following my work so closely, it’s always the best to have an attentive reader!)

DVD Commentary Fanfic Ask

#blake’s last braincell #writing life

[rhythmic-idealist]

AFO and Second as foils:

This is all speculation, but keep your EYE on them, I think there's something there and I think there will be more.

In this post we're gonna tease out the difference between "using people as disposable lighters" and "killing was survival." Existing at a time where they had to come up with acceptable losses in order to survive, but Second was able to still ground what he was doing in kindness to someone, in saving someone.

Meanwhile I think everything AFO is doing is grounded in emotionally protecting himself. Like it has not actually worked, I'm sure the state of his emotional literacy is a complete garbage fire, but it's like—

"Well, nothing but me or Yoichi can matter. Yoichi's opinions on how Yoichi matters are inconvenient and hard for me, so I'm going to have to keep believing he's just foolish and mistaken until eventually I have to lean into being and enjoying being a cartoon supervillain"

His admiration of supervillains started WAY young, so obviously some of it was there from the start, but idk, I'm willing to bet what drew him to them was that they're the characters in the story who always seem unaffected, even gleeful. Especially considering the time he grew up in.

And how IS it that that's something so far distant from "killing was survival"?

Well, it's what distinguishes heroism, what ACTUALLY distinguishes it: save him first.

Now yes I could make an entire separate post about everything Stain gets wrong (he wants to die, he believes villains should die just as he believes bad heroes should die because he does not believe in people's capacity to change once they are too far gone, he does not care about people like Himiko Toga), but this thing is correct and played straight. Tenya Iida rolls it straight into his personal philosophy, and he brings it back in the JT arc with his announcement to the hero course that my priority is rescue, clearly framed as a triumph.

What makes a hero? Heroes must ground their fight in saving. It has to be about saving.

And one day, things will reach Izuku Midoriya's era. Deku will see the necessity of the hero who [tries to save] everyone, and Uravity will connect the pieces on the fact that we all need to become that hero.

It wasn't possible in Second's era, so Second chose what he could.

I think Second was deeply deeply messed up about the things he had to do in order to keep himself and other people alive. But I also think he kept asking himself why he did it, and kept investing in other people. There is a reason he understands "those who run alongside you."

And when Second introduces the notion of "those who will match your pace and run along side you," in that moment he means those who will STOP you when you need stopping.

There's a reason that that core Second belief is associated with what Iida is as a friend and a rival: Iida's entire philosophical rivalry with Midoriya is grounded in "neither one of us can make all the judgment calls alone, neither of us can make all the rules."

Sorry to bring Iida into it now, but Second sort of necessitates that for this analysis to make sense: The way Iida begins to stand back up and take heroic action is the advice "be the hero [your brother] would want you to be."

Iida was doing something for Tensei IN NAME, but it was based on Iida's own restlessness and putting his own emotions at ease. It was obviously something that it would be completely batshit to suggest Tensei wanted. The second he's confronted with that thought, instead of stuffing it into a very very distant little compartmentalized corner, Tenya knows that.

(Unlike AFO, Tenya also chooses to stand back up and do better this time. He chooses to take the critique, to understand that he was wrong despite how ridiculously harsh on himself Tenya is when he's wrong, and to dedicate himself to figuring out how to do better.)

Similarly, AFO takes actions in Yoichi's name, but they are, at every turn, entirely to soothe himself. They are never interested in what Yoichi wants from him. Investing in other people's answers when everything is already so hard is mandatory, but is difficult, and AFO chose the route that Second chose to rise above.

AFO had the opportunity to choose that too. There were people who, if he chose to do better, would have done the difficult work of running alongside him. I'm sure there was a long period of time when Yoichi would have— we watch Yoichi try to stop him with words, try to get him to do anything better, to at least stop this.

AFO was reacting to what it was to exist during his horrible, tumultuous time. And so was Second, and that's why I think foiling them is going to wind up essential to dig at the root of what makes AFO evil.

-

(Apologies that the picture wound up at no point being referenced in this post. Just to keep from confusing anyone, I'm gonna come out with it: that picture at the top is me finding the best AFO and Second panel I could to make this post look nice.)

#mha #bnha #mha analysis #afo #all for one #second ofa holder #second ofa #also this wound up in the tenya iida tag

[imayjinmin]

Dazed Ⅲ

Vampire Prince Enhypen x Shadow fairy Fem Reader

Work count: 3.5K

Playlist: Here

Synopsis: Shadowfen was a normally a peaceful place consisting of shadow fairies. The city was beautiful beyond belief until Grimmingthorn invaded. Vampires now overpopulated the city. Both of the Queens being pregnant they decided on a deal of which they live together. Making the new fairy princess and vampire kings grow together. Leading with a lot of obstacles on the way of childhood.

Warnings: mentions of murder, death, gagging, creepy men

         Registering the three corners of the room, not being able to see the fourth. Knowing very well that this room was the dungeon. She was never allowed to be in them. Nor near them. Trying to peer up to try and see the door as a sharp pain shot through her shoulder and chest. Wincing as she tried to move once more, quickly glancing as the hinges squealed. Watching the masked man look her over. A chill hit her when he stopped at her side. His hand gracing her face.

“What a pretty little thing we have here. A shame you won’t be this pretty after she’s done with you.”

“W-Who is this her you mentioned?”

“You poor innocent thing, it’s so sad that you don’t know. The Queen of course. She has wanted to for a long time. See this pretty, pure shell break. Watch it snap under pressure.”

“I didn’t do anything though? Why would she be after me of all people in the Kingdom?”

“You see...how do I make you understand this? You are too connected to her sons. The only girl that is to be in their lives is her, and their match. Each of the boys is destined to a princess, fated some may even say. But all of the boys are showing signs of being connected to you. Do you now understand the issue at hand? Did I dumb it down enough for you?”

“Are you implying that the Queen wants me dead? She is the only woman I can think about that has sons that I am even remotely associated with.”

“There you go. Now you finally understand. That’s right, her perfect life would be with you not involved in it. You are a mere inconvenience to her. I get why she would be jealous of you. I mean how would you feel if a pretty, dainty thing came and tried to take away your sons? Hmm?”

“I would not appreciate it, but I most definitely would not kill the girl. Who is demented enough to even consider that?” 

“Well that would be me.” Both whipping their heads toward to door, neither of them hearing the door open. Watching the tall, lengthy woman ponder her way across the decrepit floor. Piercing eyes into each other. 

“Madam?”

“Well yes my dear? Perplexed? I know I would be.”

“Why?”

“You see, I love you do not misunderstand, but my sons are arranged to marry princesses. And yes, I know you are a princess, but they are to be marrying a vampire, not a fairy.”

“Why do you want to kill me Madam?”

“I do not wish to kill you. Who told you that?”

“The sir over in the corner.”

“Now why did you tell this girl that I wanted to kill her?” Her tone becoming ominous matching the steps she took toward the man.

“I wanted to scare her.”

“No, this girl is like a daughter to me, I would never hurt her.”

“I am sorry Madam.”

“Now where was I...ah yes. I am deeply sorry about him. He thinks his position is higher than it truly is. As I was saying my sons are to meet their partner this month, and I can’t have them constantly running to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Madam. So what would you like to do.”

“I need you to disappear for a while.”

“How do you want me to do so?”

“I am going to have you fake your death. You were shot, so I am going to say that you disappeared because a hunter shot and took you. That way you can hide out of sight and no one bothers you. How does that sound?”

“I don’t think it is too bad of a plan. Honestly Madam how long do you want me to hide? And where?”

“I am going to have you move in with some friends of mine. They live in the forest. A place where no one goes. They are nice people, and yes they are vampires. Nobody will look for you there. I want you to stay with them until you are about twenty years old. They will be here later tonight to get you. I already had your stuff packed and awaiting their arrival. Now, I have to get back, stay here and I will have one of them come get you.”

Nodding at her as she and the man walked out. The steel door screeching upon the friction. Huffing, she laid her head down on the pillow. Sleep taking over her.

                                      ⫷⫷⫷

    Gasping upon feeling a presence touch her wing. Springing up to see a tall gentleman next to the bed. Pinning herself in the corner to get as much distance from him as she could. Watching him crouch down to her level but not moving a step in her direction. Tilting her head to the side trying to read what he was thinking.

“That isn’t going to work on me. How about this...my name is Taeyong. I was told to come get you by Seulgi. I will not hurt you, I am just coming to get you out of here.”

“How do I know that you are not lying?”

“You are a very smart kid, but if I wanted to hurt you I would have already.” Relaxing, he was right, she still refused not walking to him.

“Where do you live?”

“I live in the forest on the southern coast.”

“Okay.” Stepping toward him, seeing him straighten out to his full height once more. Waiting for him to open the door and leave. Doing exactly that, he signaled her to follow him. 

“Come here, I need you to stay with me so that no one notices you.”

Grabbing his hand as they walked through the dark hallway. “How can you see? It is so dark.”

“My vision is a little different than yours, dear.” Snickering at his response, she continued on her way. Finally, she saw a gate after walking for what felt like hours. “And we are here. Now there will be other people but they are just like me. You are actually the same age as Mark and Haechan. Do you think you can sit with them?” 

“Yeah.”

“There you go. C’mon.”

Opening the gate to a part of the castle she had never seen. Seeing three black carriages lined up. Leading her to the last carriage, the door opened revealing two boys. Stepping into the car, feeling the awkward atmosphere. Peeking at the two young boys, seeming no older than herself. Watching their eyes shift from each other to her and then back. Clearing her throat, the boys stiffened. 

“I am Y/n. What are your names?”

The tan-skinned boy shoved his elbow into the dark haired boy with glasses. Blinking multiple times before also clearing his throat. 

“Umm...I..I am Mark, and this is Haechan.” The one who introduced himself as Mark explained. “How old are you?”

“I am ten. Yourself?”

“I am twelve.”

“And I am eleven.”

“So why are we taking you from the Grimmingthorn Royals?”

“I was shot.”

“Shot?!”

“Yes. They said it was a hunter, but I seen her face. She wanted me dead.”

”Who is she?”

”The Queen.”

Both boys gasped in surprise. Seeming more shocked than Y/n herself.

”Why would she ever want to kill you?”

“I have not a clue. She is a very temperamental woman. Dramatic might be a better explanation. She was a woman of honor to those that didn’t know her. When you knew her personally; you would know she is a savage woman. And poor Heeseung. That boy has no idea what his mother has in tale for him.”

“Who is Heeseung?” The younger of the two piqued.

“He is next in line to be King. As of right now he is the eldest prince of the Grimmingthorns’. Only nine and his mother blames him for everything ill in her life. She gives all of her children a sorrow life. Extremely sad.”

"That truly is. We are not near the king status." Giving Mark a few quick blinks before responding.

"We not? Are you not the only sons?"

Haechan let out a boisterous laugh. The high-pitch sound bringing a small chuckle from her.

"Absolutely not. We have many older brothers. We are some of the youngest, but there is over ten above us."

"Don't you think your status may change? I mean if you seem mature enough...do you think they will allow you to be a King?"

"Uhm..." Mark started before stopping his sentence. A long pause ensued before he began again. "I don't believe that will happen. Hierarchy is followed strictly in our family."

"Ahh, okay. Understandable. So who is your King as of now?"

"Taeil is. He was born in thirteen-ninety four. He is our oldest."

"If you ask me, he doesn't seem like he wants to be the King for much longer."

Pulling her head back in confusion while blinking at them slowly. "Why not?"

"I just think he is over it. Any time there is input needed from him, he just waves you off."

"Well I guess I could see why you make that assumption. Our Queen was never like that. She was always in the court of knowing what was happening. You could not breathe right without her approaching you."

"Do you think you will miss it? Grimmingthorn, I mean."

"Oh god, no. Maybe my friends, but nothing else."

Going to speak again when the carriage came to a hault. The three glanced at each other as the door opened showing a tall man with dark hair. Guarding herself as the man was not Taeyong. The two boys quickly slipped out of the opening while she shoved herself into the corner.

"Who may you be?" The man visibly huffed while rolling his eyes.

"Come on child."

"No, who are you? I will not leave this carriage until you state your name and respective status."

"Are you part of the court now?" Keeping silent at his question making her get a snicker. "That what I thought. Now get out."

"Aleast tell me your name."

"My name is Jaehyun. I am one of the Princes of the Neos."

Still keeping her guard up as she got to the edge on the carriage. Going to step out only to get her foot stuck in her gown. About to fall when her arm was grabbed. Glancing to see Jaehyun giving her an annoyed glare.

"Thank you. Now let go of me."

Scoffing at each other as they paced to the gated villa. Once inside of the gates they closed. Seeing many people going on their way. She stopped walking and stared at everything around her. It was definitely smaller than Grimmingthorn. This seemed more like a family than a kingdom to her.

Nobody was forced to interact, they just did it. There was no issues with aggression. Everyone appeared civil. Lost in her own world as hands were placed on her shoulders. Jumping upon the contact, to see the silver-haired male from before.

"I thought you got lost, dear. Enjoying the Kingdom?"

"Yes it is a nice contrast to mine, and no I did not get lost. I didn't know where to go so I stayed put."

"Follow me. I am going to show you to your quarters."

Gripping the man's hand as he led her to a large hut.

"This is just mine?"

"Go inside. I will explain everything there."

After she entered the sound of the wood sliding against itself was heard. Taking a place on the mat, staring at the man who continued suit.

"So, do you know the true reason you are here?"

"I was told that I would be staying with some of the Queen's friends until her sons were mated."

Taeyong sighed. "Unfortunately, that it not true. The Queen sent you to us to be killed. Everything that the Queen has told you is a lie."

"I am not surprised."

"You're not?"

"Oh no. The Queen has never been polite to me. I believe she is also the person who killed my parents."

"Wow. You don't see highly of her...but neither do I so we are quite similar."

"Why did you accept me then if you knew how she is?"

"We need to get stronger as well. If we finally get a female in our dynasty we will be unstoppable."

"So you don't have a Queen?"

"Haven't for the last century."

“You expect me to stay with you for all of these years to come until I’m?”

“Until you are eighteen.”

“I won’t have to be turned to be your Queen?”

“No one will ever get close enough to tell you are not one. Trust me, you stay with us and you will be set for life.” 

“Promise?” Looking the King in the eyes as she held out her pinky finger. Taking a quick glance down at it before returning the eye contact. Wrapping his small finger around hers and touching her thumb.

“I promise you.”

                          ♦️♦️♦️

The next day upon waking up, she felt at ease. Looking around to see a pink and beige dress hung on the wall. Taking a step closer to see a note with it. Reading carefully.

“Here is your first gift as the princess. 

It is meant to match your personality. I hope I did well.”

Feeling the soft material under her fingertips. The beautiful detail of flowers that adorned the bottom of the dress resembling cherry blossoms. The pink color being a soft contrast to the light beige covering. Sliding the dress over her shoulders and tying the covering at her side. Smoothing out the wrinkles she had made. The length reaching just above her feet. Moving swiftly through the door of the house to see everybody working outside. Walking around the land until she ran into Mark. Two young boys accompanying his sides. Both giving her sweet smiles as Mark did the same.

“Hey Y/n!”

“Hello Mark. How is your day going?”

“Oh, it’s going just fine. We were about to go get breakfast. Would you like to come with us?” 

“Yes that would be nice.” The young boy jumped giddily as he dragged her with him. Multiple faces passing to fast for her to recognize. Reaching a temple with its doors open giving it a welcoming vibe. Running up the stairs to finally see people sitting together. 

“Uhm, Mark? What do you eat?” The boy’s brows knit together signifying his confusion. 

“We eat what you eat, of course.”

“You eat apples, and persimmons?”

“Oh no we don’t eat those. They make me sick. I get what the king gives to us. Which is whatever they caught this week.”

Feeling her mouth start to fill with saliva, she gagged. The thought alone of eating a animal made her nauseous. She gave Mark an empathetic smile before stepping away. “Do you happen to know where I can find Taeyong?”

“Oh, he should be in his quarters right now. It is the big building over there.” Pointing to the other side of the village where a vibrant temple stood. The decorations of it showing it help royalty within it. Thanking him as she made her way to the temple. Stopping outside of it before sliding the door open. Showing the man in question sitting in a blue outfit. Calling for her to sit with him.

“What is it that brings you to me Y/n?”

“Well I tried to eat breakfast and had a situation arise.”

“And what may that be that caused you turmoil?”

“Well, I don’t eat animals. As a Fae you don’t eat anything that is part of nature besides what’s given to you. I cannot bring myself to eat a animal. What do you presume I do?”

“I can send a few of the boys to pick food for you. Would you like that?”

Nodding at him. “Well yes, however there is one request. I would like to pick my own harvest. Considering it is only me that is eating it.”

“I disagree with your stance on this, but if that is what you want, then I will allow it. For how much do you think you will need?”

“Just enough for this week, and if alright I can plant the seeds and have my own harvest on territory.”

He opens his eyes to see her genuine attitude toward him. Huffing before he nods his head. “That’s fine, just don’t take too much land. I will let you go into the forest with some of the elders for protection.”

“Thank you Taeyong.” Bowing about to leave before stopping. Catching a glimpse of her dress made her remember. “Thank you as well for the dress. It is beautiful.”

“I did not pick out the dress. Jaehyun did.” Her jaw falling slack for a few seconds, quickly closing. He was the last person you would have thought would know anything about her likes.

“Well please tell him my gratitude.”

“I will now please go wait at your quarters until they show.”

Leaving him alone to finish his doings. Waiting inside the hut for no longer than a half-an-hour when there was a gentle knock. Opening the door to see three men she did not recognize. “Who may you three be?”

“May we come in?” Granting the three entry waiting for their names.

The tallest of the three speaking first. “I am Johnny. Taeyong has sent us to take you for harvesting.”

“I am Yuta.” His response was concise while his presence oozed power.

“I am Kun. Nice to meet you.” The smallest of them ended with a slight bow in her direction. 

“Thank you for coming with me for harvesting.”

Johnny let out a quiet hum while leading her into the forest with the other two trailing behind them. The surrounding environment becoming more and more earthy the farther they walked. 

“Have you spotted anything of interest yet, your highness?”

Pausing at the title before shaking her head. “Unfortunately not. And please do not call me such a title. I know not a clue about being a highness.”

Kun going to protest when Yuta held a hand out to him. Talking him down so that the to be Queen does not get upset with them. 

Once she had found a bush full of berries, she began to pick them. The three holding basket for her collecting. One of the baskets becoming full with berries alone. Proceeding to look for more fruit when she spotted an apple tree in the distance. Standing small next to it while staring up at the expanse of it. Turning her attention to one of her tall companions, flip-flopping on whether she should ask or not. Deciding she called out to him.

“Johnny?” Seeing his head swing in her direction. “May I please ask you for assistance?” Said man came trotting over branches before standing in from of the tree with her.

“What may I help you with?”

“Can you please grab me down a few apples?” Nodding as she watched him reach up and pluck apple after apple from the branches. Once the basket was full, she went to look for more fruit. Johnny following closely until Yuta and Kun came strutting up to his side. Her being too far to hear their conversation.

Johnny, however, kept a close eye on her as he listened to his counterparts.

“Something is not right in the forest?”

“Why do you say?” Yuta kept glancing around as he continued. 

“The trees and leaves have been eerily still. Kun and I have both heard branches breaking when none of us were near branches. I feel their presence is near. We have to get out now.” 

“Kun go get Y/n.” Johnny commanded as he fully turned his attention Yuta. Taking his concentration off of her allowed his senses to clear. Getting the feeling of being watched be perked up. “I see what you are saying. Can you tell where they are?”

“They are located along the edge of the south. Moving inward.”

“What is located along the south of the forest edge?”

“Grimmingthorn and Shadowfen.”

Kun and her now standing next to them as Johnny shifted uncomfortably. 

“Y/n? Where are you from?”

“I am from Shadowfen.”

“Were you invaded?” 

“By Grimmingthorn.” Johnny stiffened as the scent got stronger.

“We have to go back.”

“Why? What is going on?” She could sense the anxiousness of the three men around her. It being a contrast to their calm demeanor she felt earlier. Asking question after question without getting answers from the three as they dragged her along rather quickly. Throwing a fit until the Neos territory came into view. Finally letting up their grip as Johnny stood tall in front of her. His body appearing as a wall before her. “Will you please tell me what is going on?”

“Grimmingthorn is trying to invade.” As if summoning, an arrow shot between the two hitting a tree behind them.

Taglist @windyrey

#enhypen #nct #heeseung #jungwon #enha sunoo #nishimura niki #jay #enhypen jake #sunghoon #enha x reader

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 16: Jerk

Dia would be lying if she said today wasn't long. Borel Manor was a welcome sight to her eyes as she drew closer to it. One turn of her key and the door unlatched, leaving her to open it and finally go in.

"Hi, it's me! I'm here to rob you!" She yelled after she closed the door.

Silence greeted her back. She knew Aymeric was home. Naegling was sitting at the door for some reason.

"I'm only taking the valuables, don't worry!" She yelled again as she walked to the parlor. "Don't tell me you're offended by a simple robbe--"

She stopped speaking when she saw Aymeric speaking with an older Elezen gentleman. His snow white hair was cut shorter than his host's, and he had striking pale blue eyes.

Oh, sweet Spinner, is that fucking Thordan?

"Welcome home, Dia", greeted Aymeric.

"Oh...forgive me, I didn't realize we er, had a guest", Dia apologized.

"No apologies necessary", assured the older gentleman before he stood and bowed. His voice was a rich and sonorous tenor, albeit aged. "My name is Count Georgiaux de Maincrel. It is a pleasure to meet the Savior of Ishgard in person."

"Oh, you know who I am."

"Few do not." Georgiaux approached her with a confident gait and a warm smile on his face. "I had come to visit my nephew and ask him to join my family for dinner tonight."

"N-nephew?"

"Ah, forgive me- I had assumed this was known. Yes, I am the first in line of House Maincrel, eldest brother of the man you knew as Thordan VII."

"Ohhhhhhh..."

"Of course, Thodan VII, as we all know, is simply a title he gave himself by tradition of the Church. His real name was Bertolain de Maincrel, my youngest brother."

Dia nodded. "I see..."

"I understand that you and Lord Aymeric have an arrangement of sorts here, one that allows you residence within this manor. Is this the case?"

"'Arrangement' is one way to put it, I suppose."

"Then I would like to extend the invitation to dinner to you as well."

Trying not to make her discomfort obvious, she answered, "Thaaaaaat's very kind of you, but I don't wish to intrude on anything or make any plans change."

"You would not inconvenience a soul with your presence. I understand this is rather last-minute, but I do hope my family and I will see you both tonight." With that, Georgiaux bowed to her, then to Aymeric, who stood up. "Have a wonderful evening, both of you."

"I'll escort you out", Aymeric offered, walking to his side and leading him out of the parlor. Dia's nerves got the better of her, making her shake as she went to the settee and sat down. She put her hands over her mouth and started breathing deeply in her nose and out her mouth. Rapid footsteps could be heard rushing down the hall and back to her.

"Now I know what you're thinking, Dia", Aymeric started. Dia said nothing, looking to him.

"You must be wondering why I would associate with a brother of Thordan."

"You mean Bertolain?" Dia joked.

Aymeric gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, that was his name, wasn't it?" He cleared his throat before continuing, "He had only visited me once before, after the end of the Dragonsong War, to tell me that House Maincrel holds no ill will towards me. From there, we mostly interacted through Starlight cards and what fêtes we found ourselves attending. After a more recent one, I invited him to come by the manor at his leisure, and he chose today to do so. I would have warned you had I known earlier."

Dia continued saying nothing, focusing solely on her breath.

"Are you angry with me?"

"Are you going to dinner with him?"

Aymeric took in a breath to say something, but found himself wordless.

"Are you?"

"I-I certainly do not need to go, and if you've no wish to go, under no circumstances are you required to go, and--"

"Stop."

He obeyed.

"Don't give me the answer you think I want to hear. Do you want to go to dinner with Lord Georgiaux?"

He bowed his head and answered with a tinge of guilt in his voice, "Yes."

"Then I'll go with you."

He lifted his head back up, curiosity sparkling in his eyes, before asking, "Really?"

The last time you went alone to a relative of his, you got thrown into a dungeon.

"I don't want you going alone to this."

He blinked. "I...are you certain?"

"If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't."

Aymeric smiled and nodded. "A fair point." He went to the staircase. "Dinner is to be served in three bells, so we will need to make ready."

"Yikes, that soon? All right."

------

Maincrel Manor was located in the levels just above Foundation, but beneath the Pillars. The area overlooked Empyreum and had shops, small cafes and restaurants, offices, and manors of lesser houses along the streets. They approached the manor they needed to find and Aymeric knocked on the door. A wizened old Elezen man in a butler's uniform opened the door.

"Ah, Lord Aymeric and Mistress Sito. Welcome to Maincrel Manor. Please, come in." The butler moved out of the way to allow them entry, Aymeric and Dia walking in and looking about the place. He looked to the couple after closing the door and told them kindly, "Pray allow me to inform my lord and lady of your arrival." He walked past them, leaving the two of them there.

Dia's Echo triggered a sense of urgency, as though something was to hit her very suddenly. Quickly, she held up a hand where the dangerous item in question landed in it.

It was a ball. Blue with a rough texture, but nothing more. Dia sighed in relief.

A young boy with raven black hair and a dark blue shirt and black pants appeared running towards them, eyes the same color as Aymeric's looking to her.

"I'm-I'm sorry, miss! My brother threw the ball too fast, and I couldn't catch it in time."

Dia smiled and knelt down to give the ball back to him. "No worries. You should be careful playing with toys in the house, though. You might break something valuable. Like a face." Aymeric watched her approach to this child with amusement.

"R-right. Sorry again." The boy ran off to another, who whispered way too loudly, "Alaimberic, the Savior of Ishgard's here!" It took everything for Dia not to laugh.

"That's enough, you two", an elderly Elezen woman, dressed in a blue bustle, hair grayed by age with green eyes, appeared to order, "Wash up for dinner, both of you." The boys obeyed and ran off. The woman looked to Dia and Aymeric. "Pray forgive my grandchildren. Boys can be such rowdy creatures at this age", she tried to laugh it off.

"Think nothing of it", Aymeric assured, "Mistress Sito was able to catch the ball before it could do any harm."

"Ball?" She asked concernedly.

"Don't worry about it", Dia attempted to change the subject. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but are you the Lady of the House?"

"I am! Lady Rosioune de Maincrel." She began a deep curtsy as she said, "It is an honor to meet you, Savior of Ishgard."

"Oh, thank you. You can just call me Mistress Sito, if you'd like. I know 'Savior of Ishgard' can be a mouthful. 'Hey, You' also works in a pinch."

Rosioune laughed politely. "Oh, I would never have guessed a hero of your stature would also be such a wit."

What the fuck does that mean?

Once she stopped, she looked to Aymeric and offered, "Of course, it is also an honor to host the Lord Speaker, tonight. My husband has told me much about you, my lord."

"Thank you, my lady. I look forward to knowing you all better tonight."

"And we, in turn, look forward to knowing you, and Mistress Sito, of course. Please, come sit in the parlor. I can assure you that no further intrusions shall be caused by my grandchildren." The two of them followed Rosioune to the parlor where a purple settee set on top of an ornate rug awaited them. "Pray take a seat. My husband will be out in a moment." They sat together in the settee while the Lady Maincrel took a seat in a loveseat nearby.

"You know, my husband found that he was too old to begin navigating a new political system as such, but our son Meritrel took to it quite nicely."

"Ah yes, Lord Meritrel. He's co-sponsored a bill alongside me for a new museum to be erected by the Pillars to Firmament Society."

"Oh, yes. That society has become a part of his every day life."

Before she could continue, the sound of loud crying rang through the house. "Oh, is someone not happy?"

"No, someone is not. I believe that's poor baby Dia."

Dia blinked. "Baby who?"

Rosioune laughed. "Yes, baby Dia, named after you."

"After me?"

The Lady nodded. "You've become a rather popular namesake since you ended the Dragonsong War. Perhaps you may think it bold of me to predict that tales of your heroics will outlive everyone alive today by many, many years."

"It is, but I certainly don't mind in the least."

Rosioune smiled. "She is Meritrel's third child. A darling baby, though she is usually more quiet than this. His wife, Tamilie, has been a devoted mother to the child, and has yet to leave her side in the weeks since she caught this disease."

"Oh, she's sick? I can heal her."

Aymeric's eyes widened.

"Do-do you believe you can help with this illness? We've seen a chirurgeon and he insists that only time will tell."

"I once cured a camp full of sick people infected with a voidsent-inflicted disease. If I can't cure it, I know I can at least provide relief from the symptoms."

Rosioune took her offer with gusto and said, "Follow me." Dia and Aymeric followed behind the Lady down a hall to a room. She knocked on the door and asked, "Tamilie? May we come in?"

"Come in."

That was Georgiaux's voice. Rosioune opened the door and found her husband holding the baby in a rocking chair, trying his best to soothe the infant. "Where has Tamilie gone, Georgiaux?"

"Oh, the poor woman was exhausted. I decided to aid her that she might find a measure of rest."

Rosioune sighed. "My dear, Mistress Sito insists she can help heal Dia. May she see her?"

"You-you can?" Georgiaux asked Dia desperately.

"I can certainly try. I'd like to help."

Georgiaux stood up and handed the child to Dia, who took her in her arms. Aymeric watched over her shoulder. The baby only cried louder.

"Yes, yes, I know", Dia cooed to little Dia as she hovered a hand over the baby, "Everything hurts so bad, doesn't it?" Her hand glowed blue with Esuna and she inspected very closely. A few minutes of silence passed as no one dared utter anything that might interrupt her. Dia broke the silence by whispering to herself, "Ooh, that's an inflamed lung."

"Inflamed?" Georgiaux asked.

"May I ask what your chirurgeon did?" Dia asked.

"Well, he certainly didn't inspect her to the length that you are, Mistress Sito. He gave a glance over, insisted it was a simple cold and that time would take its toll."

"Well, he was about to kill her", Dia refuted. "One of my free company mates caught this once. It's nasty, even for a full grown adult. This isn't a disease a baby can fight alone. Her immune system's simply not developed enough. Did he provide medication? Painkiller?"

"No, he insisted such a thing was not necessary."

Dia shook her head. "Good help is hard to find." Her hand glowed brighter and something close to thirty seconds passed. "And...I think that did it. I'm going to heal the scarring, then she should be good to go."

To the elder Dia's credit, she did stop crying. "Don't you feel better?" she cooed once again. The little one said nothing, just stared blankly, her eyelids growing heavier. "Oh, but you're also sleepy, aren't you? Yeah, you are." She carried the baby to her crib and let her down.

Rosioune rushed to the crib and placed a hand along the baby's forehead. "Her fever's gone down. She's going to sleep." She looked back to her healer and said, "I don't think I could have handled the death of another grandchild. Thank you, Mistress Sito."

"Another?" Aymeric asked in shock.

Georgiaux bowed his head. "Meritrel's brother, Artimeric, had a son not long ago. He died before he could name him."

Dia looked back to Georgiaux with a sad look. "I'm...I'm sorry."

Georgiaux let out a sharp breath. "Naught to be done for it. Come, dinner is certain to be prepared soon, and you deserve a cellar of wine for your efforts, at least."

"Oh, that's not necessary, but thank you", Dia refused.

"At least a bottle, then. Let's eat."

-------

The dinner itself was pleasant. After it, Aymeric was discussing further with Meritrel, Tamilie- who was awakened for dinner and held baby Dia close to her- and Rosioune about all sorts of current events in the parlor. Dia excused herself to use the bathroom. After she left, she found Georgiaux sitting outside in a patio alone. Dia, against her better judgment to leave him be, approached the patio door, and opened it. "Are you well, Lord Georgiaux?"

The wizened lord looked to Dia. "Oh yes, thank you."

Once again, even though the voice in her head told her to close the door and go, she insisted, "Gil for your thoughts."

Georgiaux smiled amusedly. "I was simply thinking of what you did today."

"Oh." Dia closed the patio door behind her. "What about it?"

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I did not deserve the kindness you extended to my family today."

"Sure you did. Babies don't deserve to be sick."

"Mistress Sito, I know perfectly well what it was that my brother had done to you."

She was struck into silence.

"To the nation of Ishgard as a whole, really. What he did was reprehensible. Though House Maincrel has publicly condemned Thodan VII, we know that many believe that we are simply looking to ease public tensions. He was my brother, after all. Were we in another world, perhaps we would be more supportive. But I cannot abide by the idea that we would ever support a man who would temper the whole of Ishgard under the thrall of a primal. He sought power for power's sake and was consumed by it. As his vanquisher, I'm certain you've your own feelings on the matter. Such was the reason why I had hoped to invite you here- that I may assure you that you will not find a face in this house who would regard my brother as anything more than a traitor."

He looked her in the eye. "Yet, even with the history you have with him, you still offered such kindness to my family. Tell me this, and tell me true, Mistress Sito- should my chirurgeon have known about this?"

Dia frowned and hesitated for a moment before answering, "If he's a well-trained chirurgeon, he should have at least offered something to help alleviate symptoms, even if he could not truly cure the disease."

"Then you see now what a stain my brother has left upon my house. What you've confirmed for me is that I must seek a new chirurgeon for my house. He's not the only one who would seek to harm my family because of what he's done."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Mistress Sito. 'Tis not your doing that we find ourselves here. Beyond anything, I am grateful to you for your earnest aid."

"It's no trouble, really."

Georgiaux nodded with a smile. "If I may, Mistress Sito, why did you seek to join us this evening? Again, I'm grateful for your arrival, but I'm afraid I know not what brought you here if you did not seek to hurt us."

Dia let out a long sigh. "Can I be perfectly honest with you?"

"Please."

"All right. I thought you were going to do something terrible to Lord Aymeric."

Georgiaux let out an incredulous laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm afraid Ishgardians aren't the only ones making assumptions about your house. I care for Lord Aymeric greatly, and if something were to happen because I didn't join him, I would never have forgiven myself. I guess I thought it too good to be true that you really just wanted to try and be closer to him."

"Thus did you seek to join us- to protect him, if needed. Now this is making sense. Rest assured that I too care for Lord Aymeric. Though not quite as monstrous as his aims to rule over Ishgard as a god king, Bertolain also kept a fine nephew from me, and it is my aim to know him better before I should pass."

"I'm glad to see I was wrong, then."

Georgiaux smiled. "As am I that I was wrong. I assumed that my brother has made our house an enemy of you and of House Borel. You've been a kind soul. Thank you, Mistress Sito."

"Of course."

"May I ask one more thing?"

"Might as well."

"What are your intentions with my nephew?"

"Huh?"

Georgiaux laughed. "Now that I know of my nephew, I'm afraid I've a new role to play: that of a nosy uncle. Surely, you understand this much."

Dia laughed back. "Sure, go for it."

"He loves talking about you, particularly when you're not there to protest. He's mentioned that you've lived in his house for some time- certainly not the most traditional method of courting a woman, but you are certainly not a traditional Ishgardian woman. Yet, he refuses to tell me when he intends to marry you."

She kept a laugh back.

"So I ask it of you, instead- do you intend to do such a thing?"

"Well, while I'm being honest, I don't think either of us have plans for such a thing. We're letting things happen as they go."

"I see."

"He's a good man, though. He's very kind, nothing short of a gentleman. I don't deserve him, grateful though I am that I have him."

"I believe you deserve each other more than you think."

In the parlor, the discussion was beginning to die down. "Ah, forgive me if I've taken up too much of your time", Aymeric apologized.

"Nonsense", Rosioune insisted. "This was lovely. Thank you for joining us, Lord Aymeric."

"I'm glad we could join you. Let me see if I can fetch Dia that we can allow you all to retire for the evening." Before he could get up, however, everyone could hear her and Georgiaux laughing in the hall, walking back to the parlor. Aymeric stood up and turned to face her.

"Hi! I was just telling Lord Georgiaux that we'll need to get going soon", Dia explained.

"I had reached the same conclusion. Shall we?"

Dia nodded before looking to Rosioune. "Thank you for everything, Lady Rosioune. This was lovely!"

"Of course! I hope the both of you might return soon." The Lord and Lady escorted Aymeric and Dia out of the house, the two of them making their way back to Borel Manor.

"So, how was your impromptu discussion with my uncle?"

"It was nice. He offered to pay for the wedding we're not having."

Aymeric let out a laugh. "Of course he did."

"Otherwise, the whole of it was enlightening. I'm glad I came."

"As am I."

Dia reached her left hand to his right and touched it gently. He took hers before Dia leaned into him a bit closer. "You should keep an eye on House Maintrel", she advised quietly.

"I thought the same thing. From what I saw with how you handled baby Dia, 'twould appear that my father has given them enemies, even with their public condemnation of him."

"Glad we agree."

"Thank you for what you did to help her, by the way. Lady Tamilie looked positively relieved and the baby slept soundly all through dinner."

"I don't care what Thordan did; a baby should not have political enemies."

Aymeric let out a laugh. "I couldn't agree more."

"Wasn't she cute though? Honestly, how'd half that house get your eyes?"

Aymeric laughed even harder.

"I felt like I was--...never mind."

"Dia?"

"It's not important."

"Come now, Dia. Is it such a bad thought?"

Dia took in a breath. "I felt like I was looking at our own daughter."

Aymeric's heart raced at the thought. "Oh..."

"Granted, that baby's growing red hair like Lady Tamilie's, but quite a bit of it was the same."

"I understand your meaning."

"And I'm not naming her 'Dia'. She can get her own name."

"Of course."

The two of them walked along, the events of the night and the river of wine from the Maincrel Manor cellar leaving them pleasantly buzzed

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #aymeric de borel #f elezen wol #original characters #fanfiction #i refuse to believe the church in this game isn't doing the same thing as the catholics irl #where a pope just picks a papal name #there's also no information about his real name or his family name #so in my tradition #i'm making shit up #if they ever release his real name or his house name then oh well

[mentalmindsetmatters]

Physical Toll of Depression: Aches and Pains

Depression is often discussed in the context of mental health, but the physical toll it takes on the body is less frequently addressed. This post will explore how depression can manifest as aches and pains, and the implications it holds for those who suffer from it. We will also share strategies to cope with these symptoms and promote holistic well-being.

Understanding the Relationship

The way depression intertwines with physical pain can be complex and deeply impactful. It's not simply a matter of being down in the dumps. The pain associated with depression is real and can be one of the most debilitating aspects of the condition.

When we experience a low mood, our bodies tend to tense up, as if bracing for an impact. Over time, this physical reaction can lead to chronic aches, most commonly in the back, shoulders, and neck. Studies have shown that individuals with depression are more likely to report ongoing, severe physical discomfort. This is especially troubling given the already steep climb those with depression face when it comes to managing their mental state.

The intensity of physical pain peaks during depressive episodes and can significantly impair an individual's quality of life. It may also create a feedback loop, whereby the pain exacerbates the depression, and the depression likewise worsens the perception of pain—a challenging cycle to break. Understanding this dynamic is the first step in addressing the issue for those who grapple with it.

Impact on Daily Life and Well-being

The physical symptoms of depression are not simply inconvenient—they can be downright life-altering. Those suffering from depression-related pain often find it difficult to engage in activities they once enjoyed. Everyday tasks can become onerous, and sleep, which is profoundly affected by the condition, is commonly disrupted.

The toll on one's well-being extends beyond discomfort. It can disrupt social relationships, harm professional pursuits, and generally undermine a person's sense of self-efficacy. The daily struggle with pain can also contribute to a feeling of isolation, as it's not always evident to those around the affected individual.

Health Implications

The link between depression and chronic physical conditions is well-documented. Disorders such as fibromyalgia, irritable bowel syndrome, and chronic fatigue syndrome are more prevalent among those diagnosed with depression. Furthermore, the risk of cardiovascular and autoimmune diseases increases in tandem with the severity of depressive symptoms.

Increased Risk of Chronic Conditions

The immune system is notably weakened in individuals with depression, which leaves them susceptible to a range of ailments that manifest physically. Chronic inflammation, which often underpins conditions like heart disease and diabetes, is also elevated in depressed individuals. This paints a sobering picture of the health landscape for those with long-term depression.

Chronic conditions are also more challenging to manage alongside depression. The mental and physical components can create a maelstrom of symptoms that resist conventional treatment, necessitating a more nuanced approach to healthcare.

Challenges in Diagnosis and Treatment

Diagnosing and treating the physical symptoms of depression requires a level of awareness that isn't always present in clinical settings. Physicians may initially focus on the psychological aspect of depression, overlooking or downplaying the physical signs. This oversight can lead to a delayed diagnosis or inappropriate treatment plans.

However, for those who endure the physical pain of depression, a clear understanding of how these symptoms manifest is crucial. It is a two-way street; alleviating the physical discomfort can contribute to an improved mental state, just as treating the underlying depression can lessen the perception of pain.

Coping Strategies

Acknowledging the reality of depression-related physical pain is only the beginning. Here, we share strategies and approaches that can help individuals cope with these challenging symptoms.

Mind-Body Techniques

Mindfulness, meditation, and yoga are just a few examples of mind-body techniques that have been shown to reduce the severity of physical pain. By training the mind to focus on the present moment and the body's sensations, these practices can offer a respite from the discomfort, however brief. They also hold the potential to interrupt the downward spiral between pain and depression, creating a path towards healing.

Professional Support and Therapy Options

Seeking professional support is a critical step for anyone contending with the physical toll of depression. Therapists who specialize in pain management or those who offer cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) can be invaluable resources. Techniques such as setting achievable goals, identifying unhealthy thought patterns, and establishing routines can significantly improve one's ability to manage both the pain and depression.

Medication and other therapies may also be recommended, depending on the severity of the symptoms. It is important for individuals to work closely with their healthcare providers to find a treatment plan that is both effective and sustainable.

Community Support and Resources

No one should have to manage the physical symptoms of depression alone. There are numerous support groups and online communities that provide a space for individuals to share their experiences and seek advice. Organizations focused on mental health and chronic pain often offer resources, hotlines, and educational materials that can guide individuals towards effective support.

Organizations and Platforms for Mental Health and Chronic Pain Awareness

Connecting with organizations and platforms dedicated to mental health and chronic pain awareness can be a source of empowerment. Information on the latest research, community events, and inspiring stories from others who have overcome similar challenges can foster a sense of belonging and hope.

Conclusion

The physical toll of depression is a stark reminder of the complex interplay between mind and body. By understanding the ways in which depression can manifest as physical pain, we become better equipped to address this critical aspect of the condition.

Encouraging individuals to seek help, use coping strategies, and engage with supportive communities is paramount. By approaching the treatment of depression holistically, we can aspire to a future where those who suffer from the condition need not endure its painful side effects in silence.

If you or someone you know is experiencing these challenges, reaching out for help is the first and most important step on the path to recovery. Depression need not be a life sentence to chronic pain; with the right approach, the future can be a healthier and more comfortable one.

For a comprehensive treatment plan that embraces a holistic approach, consider the services at Renewed Mental Health Group. We offer personalized care that acknowledges the full spectrum of mental and physical well-being. Contact us today to take the first step towards relief.

#mental health #mental wellness #healthcare #mental health support #bipolar disorder #mental illness

[lingeringscars]

"The Jack of Hearts is not as mature as his King of Hearts counterpart. While he is earnest, romantic, and genuine, this young man can carry a heavy heart. He may be someone in their 20s or early 30s, often a blond man, who is still easily swept up in lustful relationships and struggles to understand their higher calling.

For the most part, the Jack of Hearts is extremely kind and friendly and overly protective of his loved ones. He doesn’t want to be seen as an inconvenience to anyone. When he is not in his power, he can play the victim. 

Some Jack of Hearts individuals may even have a martyr complex. He is here to learn that being open-minded and brave with his emotions, while at the same time not holding people to unrealistic expectations can lead to great joy and even deeper levels of compassion. 

Once the Jack of Hearts has mastered the balance between expectations and reality and he is able to love others without conditions he steps into his power and is able to manifest his dreams."

"The Jack of Hearts is a court card that is deeply associated with love. Mirroring the Knight of Cups in tarot, which represents a knight in shining armor, the Jack of Hearts connotes a young man who is head over heels for someone. The card has an innocence to it, suggesting puppy love. "

"The Jack of Hearts represents the beginning of an intimate relationship. As a lover, he is sincere, honest, and committed. As a friend, you can rely on this person to have your back. They are a good, empathetic friend and will go out of their way to help you in times of need."

"Romantic and chivalrous, the Jack of Hearts symbolizes an honest young man in love. He is gentle, generous, and sincere."

#this compared to what cj put earlier for tai's card i am sooooo #meta: van palmer #muse: van palmer #yj spoilers #yellowjackets spoilers

[robin-martin]

From Stress to Serenity: How Yoga Transformed My Life

Photo by johnhain on Pixabay

‍ Tired, burnt out, and constantly anxious – that's how I used to feel before I discovered the transformative power of yoga. In this article, I want to share with you how yoga changed my life and helped me find serenity amidst the chaos.

I stumbled upon yoga during a particularly stressful time in my life. Desperate for some relief, I decided to give it a try. Little did I know that this decision would be a turning point. From my very first class, I could feel the tension melting away as I stretched and breathed deeply.

My personal journey with stress and anxiety

For years, stress and anxiety had been constant companions in my life. The demands of work, relationships, and everyday responsibilities weighed heavily on my shoulders. Sleepless nights and racing thoughts became the norm. I knew I needed to find a way to break free from this cycle.

Discovering yoga as a coping mechanism

One day, while scrolling through social media, I came across a video of a yoga flow. Intrigued by the graceful movements and peaceful atmosphere, I decided to give it a shot. With a quick search, I found a local yoga studio offering beginners' classes and signed up.

Walking into the studio for the first time, I was greeted by a sense of tranquility. The soothing music, dimmed lights, and earthy scent created a calming ambiance. As the class began, the instructor guided us through a series of poses, focusing on deep breathing and mindful movement.

The science behind yoga and stress reduction

As I delved deeper into my yoga practice, I became curious about the science behind its stress-reducing effects. I discovered that yoga activates the parasympathetic nervous system, also known as the "rest and digest" response. This counteracts the "fight or flight" response triggered by stress, promoting relaxation and reducing anxiety.

Studies have shown that regular yoga practice can lower cortisol levels, the hormone associated with stress. It also increases the production of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that plays a key role in mood regulation. These physiological changes explain why yoga has such a profound impact on stress reduction.

How yoga transformed my physical health

Beyond its mental and emotional benefits, yoga also had a significant impact on my physical well-being. Before starting my practice, I had always been relatively inactive. Sitting at a desk for long hours and neglecting exercise had taken a toll on my body.

Through consistent yoga practice, I gained flexibility, strength, and improved posture. The various poses and stretches helped release tension in my muscles and joints. I noticed that I no longer experienced the chronic back pain that had plagued me for years.

Read More: Functional Fitness Training and Yoga: Maximizing Strength, Flexibility, Health and Wellness

Yoga also enhanced my balance and coordination. The focus required to hold poses and move mindfully improved my body awareness. As a result, I became more graceful in my movements and felt a greater sense of control over my body.

Finding mental clarity and emotional balance through yoga

While the physical benefits of yoga were evident, the mental and emotional shifts I experienced were truly transformative. As I stepped onto my mat, I learned to let go of the outside world and connect with the present moment. The breath became my anchor, bringing me back to the here and now whenever my mind wandered.

The mindfulness and meditative aspects of yoga allowed me to observe my thoughts without judgment. I discovered that I had the power to choose which thoughts to hold onto and which to let go. This newfound awareness helped me break free from negative thought patterns and cultivate a more positive mindset.

Through regular practice, I noticed that my response to stressors had changed. I became less reactive and more resilient. Instead of letting minor inconveniences ruin my day, I learned to pause, breathe, and respond with intention. Yoga taught me to embrace imperfections and find gratitude in each moment.

Incorporating yoga into everyday life

Yoga is not just an hour-long practice on the mat; it is a way of life. I gradually began incorporating yoga into my everyday routine, finding moments of mindfulness and movement throughout the day.

In the mornings, I started with a few minutes of gentle stretching and deep breathing to awaken my body and set a positive tone for the day. During lunch breaks, I would find a quiet spot to practice a short meditation or take a mindful walk, grounding myself amidst the busyness of work. In the evenings, I would wind down with a restorative yoga practice, allowing my body and mind to relax before bed.

Tips for starting a yoga practice

If you're interested in starting your own yoga journey, here are a few tips to get you started:

Find a style of yoga that resonates with you. There are numerous styles to choose from, such as Hatha, Vinyasa, and Yin. Experiment with different classes or online videos to see what suits you best.

Start with beginner-friendly classes. These classes typically focus on foundational poses and provide modifications for different levels of flexibility and strength.

Don't compare yourself to others. Yoga is a personal practice, and everyone's journey looks different. Focus on your own progress and listen to your body.

Be consistent. Like any new habit, regular practice is key to experiencing the benefits of yoga. Start with a realistic schedule that you can commit to, even if it's just a few minutes a day.

Seek guidance when needed. If you're unsure about proper alignment or have specific concerns, consider taking a few private sessions with an experienced instructor.

Resources for learning and practicing yoga

With the rise in popularity of yoga, there are abundant resources available for learning and practicing from the comfort of your own home. Here are a few recommendations:

Online yoga platforms: Websites like Yoga International, Gaia, and Yoga with Adriene offer a wide range of classes for all levels.

YouTube channels: There are numerous yoga channels on YouTube that provide free yoga classes and tutorials. Some popular ones include Yoga with Adriene, Yoga with Tim, and Yoga with Kassandra.

Mobile apps: Apps like Down Dog, Glo, and Daily Yoga provide guided yoga sessions that you can access anytime, anywhere.

Books: If you prefer a more in-depth understanding of yoga, consider exploring books like "Light on Yoga" by B.K.S. Iyengar or "The Heart of Yoga" by T.K.V. Desikachar.

Conclusion: Embracing serenity through yoga

In a world filled with stress and chaos, finding moments of serenity is essential for our well-being. Yoga has been my saving grace, providing a sanctuary where I can reconnect with myself and find peace amidst the turbulence of life.

Through my personal journey with yoga, I have experienced the incredible benefits it offers – physically, mentally, and emotionally. From stress reduction and improved physical health to enhanced mental clarity and emotional balance, yoga has truly transformed my life.

I encourage you to embark on your own yoga journey and discover the serenity that awaits you. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced practitioner, the gifts of yoga are available to all who seek them. Take that first step onto the mat, breathe deeply, and let the transformative power of yoga guide you towards a life filled with peace and serenity.

#yoga poses #yogainspiration #yogaeveryday #Yoga

[prnanxiety]

Stop sharing the intimite details of other peoples fucking lives on tumblr cunt.

4/6/24

Now, this ask has been hard for me to answer. This is a problem that's been on my mind for a while now. Is there a right way to share details about a case and a patient

I personally started this blog because I saw too many things for myself and the patients with these struggles to benefit from; I'm surrounded every day by people who think my patients are to be locked up and forgotten about. It's one thing to meet someone who doesn't give a shit about psych patients in a super market, I'm just about numb to that nowadays. It's another thing entirely to have someone who doesn't care, who's your god damned nurse coworker.

Somebody who you know for a fact is trained in psych. Somebody who has had to study the same subjects and pass the same tests as you, and Somebody who is expected to be an expert in care for a patient's psychiatric background, in order to save that patient's life. That somebody still looks at the psych patients on your medical unit and wants them gone. Looking at someone homeless, psychotic, paranoid, and desperate, who's been assaulted every which way, still trying to hold on to a reason to live, and wanting them gone? Because their psychosis is inconvenient? Because you don't like knowing that psychosis can happen to anyone? Because they have an addiction?

It's an attitude I have never respected, yet continuously ran into in the medical side of hospitals. The thing is, nurses who think stuff like that go to the same lectures and continuing education credits I do, and have to learn the same stuff about psych I do. They keep passing the competencies and retaining their licenses, and they keep treating psych patients like they're wastes of space and time. So as far as I'm concerned, just being another face saying "Here's a study that says treating people like people makes treating them easier, even if they're severely mentally ill," isn't going to change any minds.

I figured coming home from work every shift and writing honest posts about things I saw that I loved or hated, or what challenged me that day, would at least give the same subject a different angle; "Hey look at how this person was, today." Something to sort of aggressively hammer home the point that "No, goddammit, they're not wastes of space."

But damn, I'm not really telling the patients I'm doing it either, am I? I can sit here and change details all I want until someone is someone else entirely. "A guy who survived a suicide attempt talked about basketball with me today" and tell myself "that can hardly identify anyone." But I'm still talking about these same patients themselves, without their awareness or consent. Even when my posts are short, even when my posts are "just like any other reddit or twitter post any other doctor or nurse makes every day." That hasn't been sitting well with me for a few months now.

There's an article about this on the American Medical Association's Journal of Ethics website that tackles this issue with physician memoirs. I'm not a physician, but its the same issue, as far as I'm concerned; A Doctor cares about their patients. They write a book about a patient population they care deeply for and a case that has long since stayed with them. The book gets published. The doctor makes money. Did the doctor exploit the patients?

The article makes the point that this kind of thing is "Creative nonfiction in medicine," and discusses some excellent pros and cons to it.

In this context we’ve developed two main approaches to dealing with patient stories in medical memoir. One is informed consent; the other is de-identification [2, 3]. Each of these, however, creates new problems. For example, de-identification, i.e., changing the narrative to make the patient unrecognizable, decreases the factual accuracy of the account, raising the question, “Where does nonfiction end and fiction begin?” Alternatively, what about the patient who refuses consent? Must we never publish stories about angry, withdrawn, or paranoid patients who, like Melville’s Bartleby the scrivener, repeatedly tell us, 'I prefer not to'”' when asked for permission?"

I personally don't sweat the first question too terribly hard; I'd rather everyone who reads this identify with they thing they have in common with the patient than focus on what sport the guy I mentioned likes (it wasn't hockey). I might lose some people who like the real sport we talked about, but I'd gain anyone willing to find the humanity in the guy. The second question is what I'm more worried about.

Let me envision two scenarios for Dr. Cushman as he prepared to publish Picking up the Pieces. In the first case, he has taken the paternalistic attitude that his patients are, after all, poorly educated and lack the sophistication necessary to understand his project. He also felt that authorial license permitted him to alter patient stories at will and to invent situations and conversations in the service of a “larger truth.” Consequently, he neither informed his patients about his use of their narratives, nor obtained their consent—but neither did he alert his readers to his practice of altering or inventing patient narratives. Given this scenario, I would have to conclude that, despite his good intentions, Dr. Cushman should see his book as ethically flawed. Let me make another point about de-identification in creative nonfiction. By definition, “nonfiction” requires factual accuracy. The “creative” element is supposed to be confined to literary style and technique. Nonetheless, authors of memoirs often reconstruct characters, events, and conversations from memory, perhaps with little or no documentary support. Moreover, the memoirist packages his or her experience to present a coherent narrative. In this process, the author might delete, merge, or alter material in the pursuit of “truth.” Although perhaps appropriate, this can constitute a breach of contract with readers, unless the author lets them in on the secret. Readers of books like the one whose publicity blurb I mentioned above rightfully expect an unvarnished firsthand account of actual patients, just as advertised. The remedy for Dr. Cushman would be to explain the criteria and process he used in de-identifying or re-imagining the narratives included in his book.

The article does a great job summing up the perfect, ethical scenario for a medical memoir, or published journal; Obtain the patient's permission, preserve crucial details, change everything else, then publish. Man, I have no idea how to ask my patients if I can write about them like that. After all, I might feel pressured to only write positive and uplifting stories, when being brutally honest about someone's misery or hate would be a more honest representation of psychiatry, in the way laypeople like to pretend isn't real. "Hey, patient who just tried to sexually assault other patient, thanks for getting into the restraint chair for us. Can I write about you on my blog tonight? I promise not to identify you, I just want to talk about how fucked up your upbringing was, and ask the reader 'did they ever really have a chance?'"

I dunno. Maybe I do need to do that.

If I ever suddenly stop posting on this blog without saying goodbye, it's because I decided that was probably the best route to take. Always wanting to do right by my patients and all. Not gonna stop writing about my patients though, that's too helpful for me. And I'm also not gonna stop trying to figure out how the fuck to get more people to care about this field.

#dear diary #diary entry #psych #nursing #psychiatry #psychosis #nurse #schizophrenia #cw: drugs #cw: addiction #ethics #hipaa

[betweenlands]

decem are so fucking funny to me btw it’s like if you turned fallen london’s masters of the bazaar into fanon!watchers and made them EVEN WORSE. they are so dysfunctional and such a threat to the very fabric of reality at the same time. they’re associated with dimensional doors because dimdoors is Just Like That. they’re recruiting legundo’s fans to hunt him down for bloodsport. they made us a funny little arg. one of them left a book bitching about how they want more credit for locating the exact location of an ex-member. it’s their fault legundo keeps getting punted about from world to world as they yank him around time and space. legundo getting punted about is also deeply inconvenient for them and they’re trying to figure out how to stop him from worldhopping. one of them only got revealed because someone made a fan decem member and it turned out to be ridiculously close to canon. they’re infighting again. they want to show us all the power that is being kept from us by Those Other Guys or whatever. they revive legundo when he dies to something bullshit only to bitch about how he died to something bullshit. they’ve got an eye motif but like in a dimensional doors/thaumcraft 4 outer lands way. despite being unrelated to it i firmly believe they are the epitome of “do you support gay rights?” “all of us have associations with different colors of the rainbow” “they’re dodging the QUESTION” corporate pride. objectively as people they suck but they kind of went off with the crying obsidian monoliths.

#yt #txt #dominioners #legundo #orig