#i've gone through periods before of not being very hungry or not having much of an appetite but this is

[coquelicoq]

disordered eatings cw

just realized i haven't experieienced haunger in like a week and therefore i keep forgetiting to eat and that is prorbably nogt helping with my energy prohblems...turns out hunger is good for something eafter all. but i just have literally no appetite whatsoever like where did it go??

#i've gone through periods before of not being very hungry or not having much of an appetite but this is #next level like i can't rememebr feeling at all hungry in any way for sevral days running #maybe i should take my sleeping pill that stimulates appetite tonight #not sure how wowrried about this i should be because like the biggest problem is that i'm not eating #because i'm not hungry and time has no meaning so i forget. and i should be eating #so maybe i don't need to solve the appentite problem if i just solve the eating problem in steqaed? #but how to solvd tghe eating problem? #i will tell my friend to text me three times a day #wow i am such a smartypants

[royalberryriku]

Alright that's a lot of rage for one like half a day, time for positivity. A list of my favourite things about transitioning off the top of my head:

• silky hair that's not quite like typical for what is expected of either cis men or women, but In-Between and it's so cool to have this really unique hair quality that is simultaneously hard and rough enough to style and be bouncy which comes with testosterone, but it's also still very smooth as well because I'm only part way through testosterone and it's still not quite like a man's but it's not a woman's either.

My voice is deeper and I love it, but also? My range is so good?? Like I can still reach high notes but now I can reach even lower notes! This may change over time and it's expected that I won't reach those high notes forever, but it's a cool part of that part-way period where I can reach both if I try enough.

My skin! It's got this rough oily roughness to it that is absolutely so damn cool but also it's also not quite like a cis man's yet and still has that smoothness. It's this in between that is just really satisfying to touch ngl. It's also just interesting how it's not quite how cis men feel but it's not how cis women feel either and how it has this bouncy roughness that just?? Is so fun to touch?? Just like poking it and being like "damn this is my skin" is fun and it's exciting to see how it changes over time.

My beard! I was never beard person before, never quite liked it on other men, but now?? I'm in love with it and I love seeing how each time I shave it regrows thicker and darker each time. It's also fun to rub your hand against your own stubble and be like "damn that's mine!!" It's so satisfying.

Weight distribution; I especially like how my shoulders and chest have changed over time while on testosterone. I feel like it just suits my faces whole lot better and has caused my entire body to become more equally distributed weight wise whereas before I was very uneven to the point it was hard to not be clumsy. I'm still not the most coordinated person, but my body itself is so much easier to move in and I enjoy walking and exceeding way more because I don't feel like I'm gonna fall over or trip over myself. I mean, that could just be age and growing into myself more than anything, but I think this helped at least a little in this.

Smell; maybe this is just a me thing but I noticed way more when I was sweaty or smelt bad before now. But on testosterone, it just "smells like me" so I don't notice as much. This isn't always good since I need to keep on schedule with showers and keep count rather than rely on "oh I smell bad today I need a shower" since that doesn't work for me anymore. I can't just be like "oh I smell bad" because it's a smell I don't dislike; it's a smell I find comforting and as a result I'm not put off by it. That being said, the comfort it gives me is really nice. It was like being around other sweaty people before but now it's just me and that's more comforting? If that makes sense??

Appetite and taste; it's a common known part of testosterone, but the increased appetite has definitely been a great part of it for me. I used to struggle a lot with food and making sure I ate properly because my appetite was so low, probably at least partly due to depression and anxiety, but now? I'm actually hungry and, as a result, I'm also more excited by food in and of itself. I notice the taste more, I experiment more and overall just living a better quality of life.

Hight: this is a rare/ arguable side affect of testosterone and, granted, it's entirely possible it was just measured wrong. But each time I've gone to the doctors I've measured closer to 178cm rather than 174 which is what I was originally. Not much, but it's interesting and I'm curious to see if it changes or not.

The stopping of my period was a big thing for me as someone with intense dysphoria around it. I never want kids and never want to use my uterus so it's always been unnecessary pain, but with testosterone stopping my period I have also noticed that I'm both physically and mentally just feeling way better in general even without thinking about the gender dysphoria side of it. I think, similar to fat distribution, my hormones being more level has just been way better for my mental health with how bad it's been and hard to deal with in addition to everything. I'm so glad for a body that just works so much better with me instead of feeling like my body was always fighting against my health, y'know? It just always felt hard existing before but now existing feels so much easier.

Overall, my quality of life is just...so much freaking better and I don't just mean mentally but physically I'm so much healthier than I was and my body works with me way better than it used to.

#trans man positivity #transgender #trans men #transition #transisbeautiful #trans #trans people #trans is not a crime #trans rights #trans boy #trans beauty #transgender positivity #transgender pride #transgender people

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hi, so first of all I would say this is actually kind of urgent because it's really distressing me and I have nowhere else to go to and no one who can help me, but I wouldn't classify it as an emergency or crisis situation. I've just been having a very difficult time dealing with this, it's extremely disruptive and general advice like "Name 5 things you can see" or "Just do yoga" isn't cutting it right now, my job is at risk, and I feel like if things don't improve then I might have a breakdown.

Trigger Warning: Binge eating, weight mentions, chronically ill mom, verbal abuse

Looking for: Advice for my specific situation

Currently cannot access therapy, nor do I have access to caregivers/nurses or family members who can help me.

My mom is permanently bed-ridden. She has binge eating episodes but doesn't want to get help. She is overweight but the problem doesn't have to do with her weight so much as the mental impacts it has on her, like feeling of a loss of control during binge episodes, getting into dramatic moods during binging, and it's almost like a drug (she'll be going through a 'high' during the binge and then once it's over with she goes back to being unhappy and taking things out on people). When other people criticize her, she automatically thinks what they are criticizing is her weight rather than the mental aspect and how wildly she behaves, and she'll say things like "They shouldn't talk about me when they weigh even more than I do!"

Because my mom cannot get out of bed, I'm the one who has to cook everything for her. She starts asking for strange foods (like wanting me to cook things for her that aren't usual for us to eat, or that I've never prepared before). And she'll start adding on more and more details, so I can't really 'meal prep' because it always ends up becoming unpredictable. For example, today, first she wanted me to make her meat with rice as a side dish, which I'd consider a normal/simple meal. But then she kept adding on more instructions and by the end of everything it turned into a total different meal that I had to cook 5 additional things in order to complete. She comes up with the instructions spontaneously ("Oh, I want you to make this other food and then add it to the dish, too!") so it interrupts the cooking process and a lot of time also gets wasted reheating food since (quote from her) "I need to have my food very hot."

Afterwards, she will ask for an equally complicated dessert, have me make hot drinks for her, sometimes bring her more food, and literally keep eating and eating for HOURS, until she gets bored of it. And she's even admitted herself that she "does it out of gluttony" so she's not even hungry anymore at that point and admits it but she doesn't care that she is making me go through a lot of work just to appease her.

Now. The problem is that I have a job where I have to concentrate in front of the computer... and it feels extremely impossible to concentrate in front of the computer for long periods of time when shit like this keeps going on constantly. I had a friend suggest setting boundaries with my mom, but clearly my friend does NOT know what my mom is like (my mom doesn't give a fuck basically because she thinks everything needs to revolve around her). Also, I am chronically ill myself both physically and mentally, so often times, I'll be feeling completely drained. My mom is verbally abusive and says "My food takes no time to make, you just don't want to work and then blame everything on me, you are so ungrateful and useless." and constantly mocks me for supposedly not doing enough for her even though I don't know how many other people would spend hours every single day making ridiculous foods their mom starts craving on a whim. I am fucking tired to death, I am sorry but I just feel like I am reaching my limit with this. Like I woke up so motivated to work today and now it's all gone to shit because I'm TIRED and my mom doesn't even appreciate what I do, she gets pissed off at me for not looking happier while helping her, she thinks my job is stupid anyway, and God I'm just sick of all this.

Anon with the binge-eating bed-ridden mom again. Want to add an update. TW self harm. So last night I thought my mom was asleep and I ate something, which turned out to be like the greatest sin I could have committed and threw her into a rage. She got mad at me because I ate without telling her (whenever I eat or drink something, the "house rule" is to always offer my food/drink to her, which I would've done as normal except I thought she was asleep and didn't want to wake her up). She began screaming at me, and when I said "I didn't know you were awake, can I bring you food?" she refused it. But even though she didn't want the food she kept bringing me down while I was eating, to the point I felt so sick I couldn't finish my food. I know you might suggest "Go eat in another room" but I share a room with my mom in order to help her, and I really didn't think it would blow into a big deal because like I said I was sure she was asleep. I may try to avoid her while eating my own meals from now on even when I think she's asleep but yeah at the time I just didn't think of it because I would've never guessed this was coming. Because of all the guilt-tripping and feeling like a shitty person, I self harmed before I fell asleep. (And also today because of the next thing I'm going to describe) Thought my mom might be over it today, but actually she was even angrier than before, she was still screaming at me, telling me I'm trying to imitate girls who disrespect their moms because I think it's cool/trendy to act disrespectful and that eating my without offering it to her was a sign of disrespect to her (EVEN THOUGH LIKE I KEEP FUCKING SAYING, I WOULD HAVE OFFERED IF I THOUGHT SHE WAS AWAKE). And then after yelling at me, she jumped straight into making me cook things for her to binge eat again, and I still haven't been able to get the work for my job done, which is due very soon. It's not getting better for me.

Hi anon,

I'm genuinely sorry to hear about the situation you're in. It sounds super controlling and exhausting to live with. It's incredibly frustrating to hear about the way your mom treats you. It's normal not to offer food to people and it doesn't make you disrespectful. It sounds like she puts such incredibly high expectations on you that it's costing your mental and physical health, and it sounds like it's also starting to encroach on your job responsibilities as well.

Perhaps this is something you've considered, but is there anyone else you could stay with? It sounds like this environment is extremely toxic and taking a toll on your mental health. I know you said you don't classify this as an emergency or crisis situation, but for the sake of your health it is worth thinking of it that way. It may be worth involving the authorities here. I'm not usually so straightforward but you cannot afford to live like this. Here is a list of international crisis resources, ranging from suicide to domestic violence and child abuse.

If anyone has any suggestions or insight, I strongly recommend sharing your input here. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw emotional abuse #trauma details

[tomakeitbeautifultolive]

Something I've been wondering about: If Jon comes back as a fire wight like Beric Dondarrion and unCat, will he be able to get it up? Blood won't really be flowing in his body anymore, so would his dick be powered by fire magic or something like that?

I, too, have spent a great deal of time pondering Jon Snow’s dick, Anon. 😏 Jokes aside, I will admit right off the bat that most of what I have to offer is total speculation, but over-thinking the most minor details of ASOIAF happens to be my favorite pastime, so let’s go!

Like pretty much everyone who read the quote, I was totally thrown off by the “fire wight” revelation. Here’s the quote for reference:

“..poor Beric Dondarrion, who was set up as the foreshadowing of all this, every time he’s a little less Beric. His memories are fading, he’s got all these scars, he’s becoming more and more physically hideous, because he’s not a living human being anymore. His heart isn’t beating, his blood isn’t flowing in his veins, he’s a wight, but a wight animated by fire instead of by ice.”

So, an important distinction to make here is that this quote is about Beric Dondarrion specifically, not Jon Snow.

The condition of Jon Snow’s corpse might matter

George can be very clever with how he words things. Note that he goes into Beric’s deaths, describing multiple resurrections and how he’s falling apart before stating that his heart is no longer beating. It could be that a fresh “fire wight” might still possess bodily functions—at least at first. Catelyn, too, was a very sorry looking corpse by the time she was reanimated, therefore not a great comparison, either. Especially since it’s Beric rather than Thoros who, with very little life force to lend, resurrects her.

If nothing else, Jon will be “fresh”, and his location at the Wall means the low temperatures will help preserve his body even if the resurrection takes some time. 

And speaking of the Wall… there happens to be a special lady there who could help Jon, and whose powers happen to be amplified by the magic of the Wall...

Melisandre is profoundly more powerful than Thoros of Myr

Thoros may be a red priest, but otherwise he seems to be a pretty normal human man. We get a clue about when he converted from Jaime:

“Jaime had once heard Thoros tell the king that he became a red priest because the robes hid the winestains so well.”

Relatively recently, one might guess, as most children aren’t yet drunks. Further, he was never very dedicated to his faith, even questioning it at times.

Melisandre, on the other hand...

“Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.”

While we don’t know much about her, this confirms that she spent countless years studying her craft, and no one in her order can match her skill. And no one believes in their faith more than Melisandre. Like in the television series, it’s a safe bet that she’s actually much older than the natural human lifespan, particularly if she managed to lose count of how many years she’s studied magic.

If Melisandre is the one to resurrect Jon Snow, she might not use a ‘last kiss’ method at all, or, if she does, it could be more powerful than anything Thoros is capable of.

Unlike Beric, Jon Snow is probably the prophesied prince

Speaking of Melisandre’s ability to glimpse secrets in the flames… there’s someone she sure seems to see a lot of:

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”

“Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow.”

“The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange.”

I know. There is some contention about who the Prince that was Promised is. Regardless of whether you agree that it’s Jon Snow, you’ve got to admit that Melisandre is seeing him in the flames for a reason. And if he’s not the prophesied prince, then perhaps his blood has something to do with it. It’s likely that, for some reason, the combination of Targaryen and Stark blood matters. At least, Rhaegar Targaryen seemed pretty convinced...

Whatever Jon Snow’s business is in Westeros… it’s unfinished. And part of that unfinished business might just involve becoming a father.

The emphasis put on Jon fathering a child is notable

Let’s go back to Jon’s first chapter ever. It opens with Jon at Robert’s feast, the author uses Jon’s eyes to describe the setting and multiple characters. And then enters Benjen Stark. This is when we really get to know Jon. When you read this passage, really consider the author’s intent here:

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon. The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor too," Jon said. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. "More's the pity." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own, and we'll see how you feel."

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

Suddenly he realized that the table had fallen silent, and they were all looking at him. He felt the tears begin to well behind his eyes.

This is how George R.R. Martin chooses to introduce us to Jon Snow. And gods, that always hits me right in the gut. It’s absolutely supposed to. Jon’s trembling, venomous anger is palpable. You feel the deep hurt and resentment in his words, right down to his core. Jon says he doesn’t care—but the bite in his words and the tears welling in his eyes tell us otherwise.

Jon Snow easily embraces his vow of celibacy. At first. And then comes Ygritte. And after getting his first taste of love and later flirting with the idea of becoming a lord when it’s offered to him by Stannis, Jon Snow begins to imagine what it might be like to have a wife...

“I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.”

And look what happens the moment he does dare to dream of it...

“I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.”

And the feeling transitions into an almost tangible hunger felt by his wolf, Ghost.

Speaking of Ghost…

Grab your tinfoil! ‘Cause Jon’s life might’ve already been ‘paid for’ ...By Daenerys

First… in case you didn’t know, Daenerys is probably a skinchanger:

“The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.”

Basically, it goes like this:

As Daenerys wanders the Dothraki Sea in search of food after being whisked away by Drogon, she hears a wolf’s howl.

“Will (Ghost) howl for me when I'm dead, as Bran's wolf howled when he fell?”

Feeling lonely yet no less hungry, she eats some strange green berries. Her stomach begins to cramp.

“My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb.”

Unfortunately, Daenerys then experiences some horrible diarrhea. Poor girl! I don’t bring it up to be crass, but because this purge bears striking resemblance to an earthly drug called Ayahuasca—a substance that, aside from emptying your bowels, is often used as a means to ‘open your third eye’ (Just as Bran does in the crypts, and he can finally reach Jon and Ghost…)

Dany falls asleep and begins experiencing trippy dreams about her brother—perhaps even achieving contact with the other side? Then...

“When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.”

Assuming it’s nothing more than her period, Dany begins to wonder the last time she bled—hinting that it might’ve been a little while.

“The sight of so much red frightened her. Moon blood, it's only my moon blood, but she did not remember ever having such a heavy flow.”

Maybe a bit of a stretch, I know. But… this wretched and graphic scene of Dany’s loose bowels really made me wonder what in seven hells George was thinking. I was so embarrassed for Dany that I HAD to figure out why he’d do this to her.

And my best guess is that she’s using these latent skinchanging abilities to tap into this strange connection with the “blue rose” over at the Wall of Westeros and the silent wolf who finally howled for help upon his death… And so, Dany’s miscarriage may be the death that will pay for Jon’s life.

I might’ve found some more evidence to back this claim up, this is very new ‘evidence’, so bear with me:

“Fire”, in the world of ASOIAF, often translates to “life”. As is seen here in Sam’s speech following Aemon’s death (thanks, bridge4!):

“He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out.”

Further, according to the wiki:

“When a follower of the Lord of Light dies, priests fill their mouths with fire and breathe flame into the deceased”

In the House of the Undying, Dany receives a series of chilling prophecies, one of which happens to be about fires:

“Three fires you must light, one for life, one for death and one to love”

I know, I know. Drogo’s pyre, the Khals, etc etc. But George might be playing with double meanings here… So, if we think of fires as conceptions, this could maybe mean:

One in exchange FOR the Dragon’s lives (Life)

One in exchange FOR Jon’s resurrection (Death)

One conceived (likely with Jon) and carried to term (TO love)

Food for thought! Especially considering that, like Jon, Dany possesses the blood of Old Valyria, and these sacrifices are probably all the more powerful as a result. But even if I’m dead wrong about that prophecy, well, fire still broadly means life, which bodes well for our brooding ‘bastard’, who might just end up as a “fire wight”.

Hopefully something in this drivel has given any Jon fans reading this a little bit of faith that, despite the slight setback of death, Jon will still be able to exercise his, uh, virility when he finally meets Dany. 😅 Thanks for the ask!!

#answered #jon snow #fire wight #resurrection #jonerys #asoiaf theories #asoiaf speculation #my theories #loving the asks since I can't do much else while recovering #keep 'em coming if you got 'em!

[sunevial]

Prompt: Antil and Tarana moonlit walk

(submitted by Spooder via Discord)

---

Right as the clock hit ten, a knock came at the door. Tarana smiled, setting her reading aside and blowing out the candle. Slipping on shoes and grabbing a shawl, she cracked open the door to her humble little home. Standing there was a tall man, long coat and beaked mask marking him a doctor of some repute, holding a bag filled with all the instruments an alchemist would need on the roads.

If there was nothing else, she could count on Antil being punctual.

"Good evening, doctor," she said, stepping outside and giving a cordial nod.

He nodded back, motioning to the darkened streets lit only by a handful of lamps and the full moon. "Evening, professor."

Ladies first, though both of them knew she was anything but. Pulling the shawl tight around her thin shoulders, Tarana started down the road. The streets were safe enough to walk at these hours, through she was hardly concerned with anything that might try and cross their path. It is in darkness that monsters prowl, and both of them were far scarier than anything else lurking in the night.

"How goes your research?" Antil asked after a period of silence, turning to look at her.

"Quite well, actually," she said, gesturing with a gloved hand. "I've actually managed to pinpoint the very year I went, ah, missing as it were. Turns out there was a major shift in pottery designs within a single year, making it easier for us to divide up eras. It's been a major boon for the archeology community, you know."

"And your personal research?"

She grinned, showing off the sharpened teeth. "If I told you about that, it wouldn't be as fun, would it?"

He considered this for a moment, tilting his head back and forth as they passed by a cemetary. "I don't smell anything new on you, so that either indicates nothing has changed much in the past three months or you're trying to do something bigger."

"You have so little faith in me, Antil," she said, holding a hand to her heart. "Would I entertain these conversations if I wasn't going to be playing nice?"

Though she couldn't see his eyes, burning red and hungry, she could feel his stare boring through her body and skull. After their little stint in that wandering inn, Antil had made it a habit to track her down once every few months. Part of her did appreciate the company; it was hard to find anyone who was even remotely as intellectually interesting as the good doctor. Their talks had gone long into the night, one professional appreciating the company of another.

The other part of her knew that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them. It takes a monster to know a monster, and Antil was the greatest hunter of monsters their world new, vampire or not. The moment she moved her research from theoretical to practical, to try and break free of this body she had been trapped in for what felt like eons, he'd slit her throat and trap her into something more sturdy than a body.

There were no hard feelings. It was just a professional reality.

Made things...interesting.

"You would, because you'd talk a dead man to his oblivion if you felt like it," he said, slipping off the mask and taking in a long breath. Pox marks dotted his face, some more infected than others, each marked with a colorful bit of ink.

"You look better than last time." She tapped her cheek, slitted eyes glancing over the various boils. "Found another cure so soon?"

Antil gave a slight nod. "Took a couple rounds of mutations, but it's staying remarkably stable. With any luck, me and the others will have a monkey fever inoculation ready for next spring. Giving myself another week or so before I test that round of injections, though."

"Have you tried black pudding for a stabilizer?" she asked, noting that they had looped around the block and were approaching her house once more.

"Tried, and lost two months of work to it," he replied, slipping the mask back on. "Ochre jelly is holding better, but we're working on synthesizing replacements."

She unlocked the door, twirling the iron key in one hand. "If you want, I have some older records on ooze use in potions and elixirs."

"Mind if I come in?"

"You know you always have an open invitation," she said with a grin.

She could feel the smirk. "Have to ask."

#ask me #spooder #my writing #tarana

[faofinn]

BTHB - Wiping the Other's Tears Away

Fao couldn't help himself, he pulled Harrison in for a hug, crushing him against his chest. “Oh, Tomcat, nothing is ever over.”

He stiffened. "It is."

“No. Come on, you of all people know things can and will get better. Look at where we came from, look at the family we have now.”

Harrison's body trembled as he sobbed, gripping Fao tighter. "They're gone."

“No, they're not. Not at all. They're so worried about you, Hars. Sheila is beside herself. I'd barely even gotten off the plane before she was all over me, asking me if you'd reached out, desperate to know if you were safe.”

"You're lying." He managed, though barely believed it himself. "They hate me."

“No, I don't lie.”

"They hate me." He repeated through sobs.

“No, they don't. Sheila will be so relieved you're safe. That you're alive.”

He shook his head, gripping onto Fao. "No."

“Yeah. We thought you were dead.”

He sniffed, trying to catch his breath. "I wish I was."

“I know, I know.” Fao soothed.

Harrison took a moment, trying to get his breathing back under control. His own wolf itched to be out, unhappy at the uncomfortable situation. "I'm glad you're safe."

Fao hummed. “I'm absolutely fine. Is that what all this is about, eh?”

He swallowed thickly. He wasn't going to admit that, he wouldn't ever admit that.

Harrison’s silence told Fao all he needed to know. “Oh, Tomcat.” He breathed.

His sobs grew harder and he buried his face in Fao's neck. He had no reason to be so nice to him. He'd hurt his brother, ruined the family. Fao should have hated him, not pulled him in for a hug, nor tried to help him.

Fao rubbed his back. “Hey, hey. It's alright, come on now. It'll all be okay. You're okay. I've got you.”

Harrison pulled away, stumbling back to sit on the bed. He reached for Fao though, an olive branch, the best part of an apology he'd give.

Fao sat with him, wrapped his arm around him as he reached up to wipe Harrison’s tears with his thumb. “There we go, you're alright.”

He didn’t pull away. "How long are you staying?"

“As long as you need.”

"That's not what I meant."

“How long am I in the country?”

He nodded; he couldn't bring himself to ask properly.

“I've got nothing on the horizon. So, a fair while. Six months, at least.”

"Six.." It wasn't enough.

“Easily longer. I have to sign up, so… I can take a break. Still gotta train, but…”

"Don't stop for me."

“It's not stopping. I need a rest period anyway.”

"That's just saying it a different way."

“Sure, either way. I'm back now.”

"You'll be gone soon enough."

“It's my job, Hars. But I'll be in the clinic and the hospital now, for a while. It's only the reserves, it's not forever.”

"Until you get hurt."

“I'm not going to get hurt.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t promise that.”

“I know. But I’m careful.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll have the best people looking after me if I do get hurt.”

"That's not what I mean." He snapped, tears falling harder.

“What do you mean? Explain it so I can help?”

"Just don't go."

“It’s not quite that simple, Hars.”

“Please.” He turned to face him properly. “Please don’t go.”

“I still have to train, but I’ll take a break.”

“Just please don’t go back.”

“I’ll take some time.”

“Please.”

“You could always call me, yknow?”

“My phone’s fucked.”

“If you were back with Sheila.”

He stiffened. “I’m not going back.”

“Come on, they want you back.”

“I’m not going.”

“Okay. You're gonna walk away from the pack?”

"It's already over."

“Except I've told you it's not.”

“You weren’t there!”

“I know. But I came home to it, I spoke to Sheila.”

“And you could just be lying to me.”

“Call her yourself.”

"Fine." He gritted his teeth.

“You're family.”

“I was.”

“There's no was about family.” Fao said, and pulled away to plug his phone in.

"There is. That's why we're with Sheila. Why I was with Sheila."

“The people who raised us aren't family. The pack is family, Sheila is family. Family's more than just blood.”

“I guess.” He frowned. “But they don’t want me in their pack.”

“They do, Harrison. Of course they do.”

“I hurt Finn.” He whispered.

“Yeah, you made a mistake. But Finn’s okay, and everyone knows it wasn’t you.”

“But it was. I did it.”

“But you weren’t yourself. Scraps happen, we all make mistakes.”

"My whole life is a mistake."

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” He said quietly. “My parents were right.”

“No, Harrison. They weren’t. You’re so much more than them.”

He shook his head. “I hurt Finn.”

“You made a mistake. Just apologise to Finn and move on, he’s okay.”

"How badly did I hurt him?" He barely dared to ask.

“He had to go to the hospital, Steve wanted to be cautious, but he was okay. Broken ribs and a broken bone in his arm. Nothing too dramatic.”

Harrison made a quiet, pained noise. "I fucked it up. I fucked it all up."

“No, you didn’t.”

"I did, I really did."

“He healed just fine.”

"Physically."

“He was upset, but just worried about you.”

Harrison shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it anymore, it just hurt too much.

“I know. It's alright.”

It wasn't alright. He didn't see how it could ever be alright.

“We'll go home, you can apologise to everyone there. And then it'll be okay.”

He leaned into Fao and nodded. He didn't have the energy to refuse, and as much as he tried to deny it, he missed the pack.

“I’ve got you.”

"I'm sorry."

“It's okay.”

"I really am."

“I know you are, I know.”

He was quiet again, his breathing slowly growing more steady. "Do they know?"

“That you're here?”

He shook his head. "That 'm sorry."

“I’m sure they do, but you’d do best telling them yourself.”

His breath hitched. "What if they don't listen?"

“You know they always listen.”

"But what if they don't?"

“It’s Sheila. She’d help you hide a body if you needed to.”

"She doesn't control the pack."

“Of course she does.”

"She doesn't control everyone."

“She’s Sheila.”

"She'd rip me apart."

“It’s fine, Hars. We’ll go back together and you can see the pack.”

He laughed humorlessly. "You'll protect me?"

“Yeah. Don't you know I'm a big tough soldier now?”

Harrison let out a proper laugh. "Tough, maybe."

“Rude.”

He reached for Fao's hand, gripping it tight. "I'm sorry."

“Let's stay here tonight, yeah? And we'll see what we're gonna do in the morning.”

"Okay."

“Get some food. When was the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. "Not too long ago."

“Long enough.”

"It's useful being wolf."

“Mm. Can I grab a shower and then we can get some food?”

“Sure.”

Fao nodded and pulled away to shower. It was nice, after a long while searching for Harrison as a wolf. He was quick, worried Harrison would leave or pull something stupid. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, he just knew him too well.

Despite himself, he’d fallen asleep, curled around his backpack. The bed was comfier than he’d expected and had drifted off almost as soon as Fao had got in the shower. His hair was still wet, still dripping down his back, but he was warm and content.

When Fao got out, he was surprised to see Harrison curled up asleep on the bed. With a shake of his head, he quietly got dressed. Poor Hars must be absolutely exhausted, he didn’t blame him for falling asleep.

Harrison stirred as Fao dressed, rubbing his eyes. “Did you shower?”

“Yeah, I did. You have a nice nap?”

"Wasn't even asleep."

“Yeah, okay. Wanna grab some food?”

"Yeah." He frowned. "I've not got any more cash."

“You can pay me back when you get some next.”

"Nowhere's hiring right now."

“I can wait.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You want me to keep an eye out for you?”

“I’ve looked everywhere. Nobody wants a wolf.”

“I’ll see if I can find somewhere. But don’t worry about the money. You can pay me back whenever.”

“Thanks.” He muttered quietly.

“I’d say don’t bother paying me back at all, but I know you’ll refuse.”

“Of course I’d refuse.”

“So it can be an open IOU. Hell, just buy me dinner next time you can.”

“Alright. I can do that.”

“Good. I'm hungry, and I bet you are too. Let's eat.”

“I don’t need much.”

“You can have as much as you want. I sure am.”

“It’s okay. A meal deal or something will be more than enough.”

“No, come on, we’re getting a good, hot meal.”

“It’s okay.” Harrison protested.

“Well, I want hot food, so…”

"Fine."

“Might as well.”

"I guess."

Fao hummed and shoved his wallet into his pocket. “You ready to go?”

He shrugged. "Yeah."

“We won't be too long, then you can get some proper sleep.”

“I already slept.” He argued as they headed down the corridor. "And I ate earlier."

Harrison kept up his protests as they found somewhere to eat. He checked the menu several times before finally agreeing to let Fao pay for it. The restaurant smelled amazing, almost overwhelming for his wolf, and his stomach growled loudly. So much for saying he'd eaten recently.

He savoured every bite, eating as slowly as he could, his wolf screaming in protest - he didn't know when his next meal would be, he should be eating as much and as fast as he could. Fao chatted away as he ate, in between large mouthfuls of good food. When Fao got seconds, Harrison was torn. There was an ache in his stomach that had come from the week with barely anything, but his pride bristled. He was already in Fao’s debt. Fao kept persuading gently, and when he refused, ordered for him anyway. He didn't need to be wolf to read Harrison’s mind.

Dessert was another thing - Fao, of course, ordered something. After a quick glance at Harrison, he got the other wolf one too. Just a simple warm sponge, but it had to help the cold in his bones. Fao had only been wolf for a week, living rougher than he was used to, he couldn't imagine how Harrison felt.

As the evening dragged on, Harrison slowly warmed to him again. He'd missed Fao. He had been everything to him and then he'd just left. Of course Harrison knew that he'd had to go, that it was for work and he didn't have a choice. And of course, Harrison was proud of him. So, so proud. He just couldn't tell him yet.

The other customers stared at them, Harrison could feel it and he knew Fao could too. It was easy to see why; it wasn't normal to see a well dressed young man with another who was still very obviously homeless. While Fao held an air of authority, commanding attention in any room he walked in to, Harrison did the opposite. People averted their gaze or stared on in disgust, they'd walk in to him on the street, ignoring his simple questions when he'd ask for directions or the time. Even in the restaurant the stigma followed them, customers giving Harrison a wide berth as they passed, almost as if they were afraid they'd catch something.

Fao's joke about Harrison’s hair being longer than his didn't go down well, just another reminder of how far he'd fallen.

As their plates were cleared, Harrison dug about in his pockets, pulling out his old, almost a brick of a phone. It wasn't his normal phone, that one had ended up being sold before it could be stolen. It wasn't worth much, but he offered it to Fao as payment. Of course the other wolf refused, rolling his eyes and telling Harrison not to be daft. He took it from him though, checked the charger needed, and promised Harrison they'd go grab a charger so at least they'd be able to keep in touch. After a little protest, he gave in, agreeing to nip to the shop with Fao.

It wasn't far, the perks of it being a small town. Security on the door gave Harrison an odd look - he'd been caught trying to go through their bins a few times, and kicked out from their doorway more than once. With Fao by his side though, it seemed he could do anything. He gave him a grateful smile.

Fao grabbed a trolley-full of snacks and drinks, and then as a second thought, some quick meals. Harrison would be going back with him, he was certain. Hopefully.

Despite Harrison’s protests, he headed to the clothes section too - the clothes the other man wore weren’t dirty, but he could definitely do with some that weren't threadbare and holey, and that hadn't been washed in the sink of public bathrooms for months.

The longer they spent in the shop, the quieter Harrison became, only occasionally piping up with suggestions. His first aid kit was sorely lacking, his medications nearly all gone. Fao meant he wasn't going to be kicked out - and he didn't have to steal. Fao was happy to oblige; if Harrison was going to stay away, he needed to be able to take care and look after himself.

While Fao checked out, Harrison braced himself against the trolley. The lack of continuous interruptions from Fao only made him grow more and more tired, almost falling asleep standing up.

Fao was glad Harrison was finally letting him look after him. As they shopped, and Harrison grew more and more tired, Fao shot him a small smile. Braced against the trolley, he looked to be basically sleep walking. They’d gotten what they needed now, and it was getting late. Fao felt just as exhausted as Harrison looked. Resting a hand on his back, he ushered him to the tills.

They paid, shoved everything into their bags, and headed back to the hotel. They still got looks, but Fao countered them with his own, and hoped they didn’t bother Harrison too much. He’d be better in some new clothes, for sure.

Back in their room and away from the prying eyes of the general public, Fao tidied their things away, and flopped onto the bed with a sigh.

“Everything’s sorted now. Do you want to get some sleep before you pass out on me?”

“Not even tired.” He protested, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure.”

“Not a bit.” He said again, sinking onto the chair by the bed.

“Come sit on the bed?”

"I'm okay here."

“You don’t look comfy.”

“It’s better than the floor.”

“Beds exist for a reason.”

"So do chairs."

“Beds are for sleeping.”

"Fine. Shove over."

#harrison #fao blackwood #harrison is having a bad day #bthb card #bad things happen bingo #wiping the other's tears away #little bit of comfort for them this time #whump #whump prompt #i love their casual closeness and nobody can take this away from me #tomcat and wolfie

[etlunainmorte]

DMC WEEK DAY 4: Food | Style | Music ( Nero and V )

~ This one's super late because work happens. But, I hope you enjoy my fourth entry to the DMC WEEK, starring Nero and V.

~ Mentions of early loss, denial, and grief. Otherwise, this oneshot is SFW.

***

It all started when his father passed away.

Of course, being a child of only six, Nero didn't know what it meant when his mother gently told him that his father has gone to a bigger, much better place. After all, to the child, it only looked like his father was sleeping, and that he'll wake up in a few minutes. He didn't know why all the people were wearing black that day, and he never asked his mother why she was crying.

What he did ask was why they were taking his father away, locking him in a box, and putting him deep, deep, down into a hole he can't reach.

Where are you taking him? Stop it! Open the box! He can't breathe!

He could still remember those words he screamed at the people who took his pa away. He could still remember how he kicked the man who closed the lid of the casket, and he could still clearly remember how his mother took him and held him as tightly as she could as she cried.

A few days has passed and he began to notice how his classmates regarded and looked at him. They also treated him as if he was a malnourished and abandoned puppy who needed care and attention. He also noticed how his mother became more and more distant. She rarely smiled, rarely talked. Nero noticed she no longer sings, and he knew perfectly well that it was her most favorite thing to do. She was an opera singer, after all. And his father, a violinist in the orchestra who played for her concerts.

Nonetheless, Nero waited for the day when his father would return. He couldn't wait to see him play the violin once more.

But, that was twenty years ago. And the child within Nero's heart has vanished into nothingness, along with all those happy memories he spent with his beloved father.

That night when he was just coming home from one of his gigs in that old, Fortuna club where indie bands perform for exposure rather than money, Nero heard a,... rather strange tune. Small, almost drowning in all the other noises of the city, but a familiar sound, nevertheless. And it actually piqued Nero's interest. He followed the source of the sound, its familiar feeling getting stronger and stronger as it got louder by the second. And the moment he reached the origin of that sound, he saw a lone, dark haired man playing the violin in the middle of the plaza.

A skinny dark - haired man with black, smoke – like swirling tattoos all over his upper body whose only company was his pet bird perched next to an open suitcase, containing a few coins and two dollars.

Nero snickered. The way that man played his old violin,... he would never attract a large crowd looking like that! His worn - out leather goth outfit would never turn heads, at least with the younger generation, and his music was just out of style! Paganini? That's so old school! No wonder only old people cared enough to drop money into his suitcase while the majority of the people just passed him by without even a simple glance.

But, that sound,...

For a moment there, Nero thought something tugged at his heartstrings, something fleeting and evasive like a small butterfly, which was almost impossible because nothing in the world could ever make Nero soft. Not with everything he's been through since he was a child. Nothing could make Nero cry, not now and never.

But, there, just now,...

The man's accurate and yet fluid bowing technique, his melancholic expression, his stance,...

His,... music,...

All of a sudden, a face materialized in Nero's mind. A face that never haunted him, not even once. It was only for a few seconds but, it made the youth's knees wobbly. He suddenly felt weak, like his energy was sapped by an unknown creature, and he felt his sweat run cold.

No, it couldn't be. Impossible,...

Pushing his inconvenient thoughts to the back of his mind, Nero turned away and went straight back home.

The next night, the man was still there, still playing his old violin but, with a different tune. Elgar, this time.

And the moment he heard the soft melody of Elgar's music, Nero saw that face again. The face he didn't know he would see again.

Who,... is this man?

"Hey," Nero said as he walked closer towards the mysterious violinist. " ... your talent is wasted here. Go to Europe. You'd earn more there performing in concerts than here." He nodded towards the open suitcase, now only containing a few cents, which was not enough to even buy himself a proper dinner. "Or, if you want, you can join the band. You know how to use an effects rack, right?"

The man, despite stopping mid performance just to listen to Nero, didn't say any word. His green eyes glistening, his lips slightly parted, the man only smiled a bit, as if in understanding, simply nodded, and continued where he left off with his music.

Nero shook his head. "You're weird." He spoke, turned away, and chuckled as he walked away. "Suit yourself."

For the next few nights, Nero made sure to visit that same spot in the plaza to see the same mysterious man with his violin. He started to observe the man for longer periods of time, and during those moments, he found out that the man actually never left that place.

Just behind him next to the fountain were pieces of filthy cardboard boxes joined together and flattened as a makeshift bed. There was a metal cane lying in it, and a worn out black stuffed cat that was probably not black before. The man was, indeed, utterly broke and homeless, and yet, there was something in the way he moved, the way he smiled when he played the violin, and the way he finished those rather difficult pieces with such flourish, and, well, a style of his own. It's as if the man was content with his very humble way of living, even more content than Nero ever was with his own, who actually lived a wealthy life with his mother and step dad.

He realized this the next evening when he went back to that same spot and saw the man playing his instrument once more.

He,... actually looked like he wanted nothing else but to share his music with everyone. And he sure was dedicated to his talent despite those people ignoring him day by day.

It reminded Nero of him,...

You can't enjoy music if you only play for yourself, that man used to say. And the moment Nero allowed this tiny, fleeting emotional weakness, those memories of him went back to his head, one after the other, flooding his entire mind until he could see nothing but him.

Of him teaching Nero how to read basic musical notes. Of him teaching him the basics of the violin. Of him telling him amazing stories of his European travels.

Of him performing his most favorite piece in front of him and his mother,...

Of him collapsing one day and telling Nero it was nothing. Of him having difficulty getting up from his bed the next day. Of him calling him to his room that one night and telling him that he would always be his Brilliant Fantasy, and that he would live on in everyone's music,...

Of him leaving Nero alone in the world, with false hopes that he would still return...

Just then, Nero snapped from his reverie back to reality and saw the mysterious man sitting dejectedly on his makeshift bed of old cardboard boxes. He could literally feel his tears threatening to come out of his eyes at the pitiable sight and those memories combined but, he refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Instead, he went to the nearest bakery, bought a cake and a loaf of French bread, and went back to the mysterious man's spot. He knelt down, took the food from his bag, and handed it to the violinist, who looked at him with such awe, confusion, and wonder.

Nero smiled sheepishly. "Ahh, thought you might be hungry. First time I've seen you stop in the middle of a performance and slump like that."

At first, the man hesitated but, Nero's kindness and insistence on feeding him, combined with the sweet and delicious aroma of fresh bread straight out of the oven of a bake shop, has proven to be too irresistible. The man took, almost snatched, the bread from Nero's hands and started devouring it like he hasn't eaten for three days. And as he ate, Nero noticed the tears in the man's gentle green eyes.

Nero chuckled and took a water bottle from his duffel bag. He offered it to the man, who was actually on the verge of choking. He carefully placed the box of cake next to the metal cane and the filthy stuffed cat, and asked, "What's your name?"

The man voraciously gulped down the water, wiped his lips with his tattooed arm, and gestured towards his suitcase. It actually has a huge letter, "V", embossed on it, he just didn't notice it before because he only looked at its contents.

"So, you're V, huh?" Nero asked and offered his hand, which the man took a bit awkwardly. "I'm Nero. I live just two blocks away from here." The man nodded and took his hand back a bit hastily. "You, uhh, how should I say this,... "

Nero wanted to say the words but, he suddenly felt weird and awkward. He must've looked like a complete weirdo in the eyes of the passersby to suddenly start a conversation with a complete stranger but, he just couldn't contain himself.

Yes, he felt really uncomfortable, but Nero also felt the urge to just say whatever's in his mind. Like he has to unload something that’s been pushing him down for a very, very long time.

"Don't get this the wrong way but," Nero began. " ... you, ahh, reminded me of my,... father,... a lot."

There! He said the words.

And V? He only seemed interested in what Nero has to say.

"I don't know and I can't express the feeling but, the way you played the violin, it was unlike anything I've seen." Nero added, ignoring V's pet bird who started pecking away at the box of cake. "It, you, made me remember him. He left. I mean, he passed away a long time ago. And I never even got the chance to properly say goodbye." Nero whispered as he scratched the back of his head, feeling the unshed tears threatening to spill. "But, I was a kid back then, and I never even realized he's gone for good until the next few years. So, I gave up the violin, flunked my classes, assembled my own band, made my mom furious, you know the stuff. And the rest is history, I guess." Nero sighed and smiled at V as the violinist took another bite off his bread. "And I guess I was such a bitch to not admit my feelings but, I do miss him. A lot, actually. But, you made me see him. Again."

For a moment, V stared at Nero with such confusion, until the youth lightly bumped his fist against his bony arm. "So, uhh, thanks. I guess."

And with those words, Nero stood, gave a nasty glance at the bird who was happily pecking at the strawberry cake he bought for its master, and turned away. Chuckling, he confessed, "Old man even called me his Brilliant Fantasy. Don't know what the hell that means but I sure wanna hear him play the violin again." Nero turned back to V and waved. "So, I guess I'll be seeing you, then, V!"

However, before Nero could walk away, he saw this man called V standing up, holding the violin, and looking at him with such an unreadable facial expression.

And with utter determination, he moved his bow against the strings of the violin and started playing,...

... his father's most favorite piece.

That piece,...

Of course!

"You, Nero, are my Brilliant Fantasy. Remember that always, and I shall live on in people's music."

I shall live on in people's music

Nero laughed and swore under his breath, wiping away at the fresh bout of tears that finally broke through him the moment V played Hubay's masterpiece. And in that moment of musical majesty, he saw himself back again at their old living room.

And right before him stood his father instead of V, his facial features ever so gentle, his music ever so enlightening to hear.

This piece, both romantic, and passionate, and soft, and fiery at the same time, described his father so well. He was a very passionate musician, his love for the violin giving him enough strength to make his music transcend to everyone's hearts. And yet, in that strength of sheer talent, he was soft and gentle. He guided Nero with love and patience, and taught him everything he knew.

And his father called him his Brilliant Fantasy.

I shall live on in people's music.

Were the words Nero heard until the last notes of the piece.

Until he saw his father waving at him from a distance.

V,... made the impossible happen.

He saw his father again. And now,...

... he was able to properly say goodbye.

Finally.

He couldn't find V the next day, and the day after that, and the next. In fact, it's as if the man, his violin, his suitcase with the V in it, his greedy pet bird, his metal cane, his black stuffed cat, and his cardboard boxes all vanished without a trace. Maybe he started travelling on his own. Maybe he's in Europe now and doing his own concerts like what Nero suggested. Or in an emo or goth band who rocks the effects rack, or even better, the electric violin. Who knows?

All he knew was that he owed V a lot, and that he hoped to see him play the violin once more.

***

@dmcweek

***

#dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #day 4 #food #style #music #vitale #nero

[demonsforfriends]

Just having a quiet moment to myself to sit and think about everything that's happened in the last week or so, and reflect on what's going on in my life right now.

It's been 3 weeks now since I've been in isolation and it's been a blessing in disguise. I didn't realise how much I needed time to just hermit and be at home and not mixing with the outside world. It's been over 3 weeks since I dissociated last, and that's something of a record for me. Even though we're having money worries, the same as everyone else, anxiety levels have dropped significantly.

Last week, we hit a bit of a bump. Well, a big bump actually. While anxiety has been a lot more manageable, there's been a lot of random depressive spells, and last week out of nowhere, I hit a wall, completely snapped, and made a really irrational, split second decision to end my life, and just went out on autopilot. For a moment, I was completely overwhelmed, felt like I was the source of all that's wrong with everything, felt like everyone's lives would be better without me in it and was just completely exhausted with the state of the world.

I struggle to do and understand a lot of things. Basic things, like working out how I feel, and talking about it, and dealing and acting on a single emotion. Feeding myself when I'm hungry. Showering when I need to. Understanding people's feelings and intentions. It's so difficult and confusing to the point of tears sometimes. But at the same time, I feel so so deeply, I just can't do anything about it a lot of the time, and not for lack of trying either. When I can actually pick up on it, I can feel deeper for others than I can myself. I've speculated in the past that I have autism, and never really thought anything of it, I just brushed it off and carried on. More recently, it's felt more and more like something I need to confront and deal with. Anyway, when I was off on my little suicide mission, I had a moment of clarity and I stopped. I turned my phone back on, and listened to the voicemail that my fiancée had left me and it absolutely broke my heart. She was so scared, and hurt, and confused and could barely speak for crying and it wrote me off. For a moment, I had a flash of confusion, which quickly turned to anger and self loathing. How could she love me? I'm so obsessed with perfection, but I am so imperfect, the exact opposite of the thing I've spent my entire life chasing, and trying to be. But as quickly as the anger came on, it dissolved. All I wanted to do was go home and make her feel better. I've always said that her happiness is my happiness, and I'll probably always stand by that. I went home, had a chat with the police, went with the ambulance crew to the hospital, spoke to the mental health teams, and went home to her. I felt so much remorse. We have regular mental health check ups with each other anyway, but that night we really talked a lot, about what I want, why I can't ever do anything for myself and the general day to day struggled that I have, and ups and downs that I have, and how to deal with my autism better. She also tried to work out how to love me better, which made me kinda sad, because there's no way she could do more for me than she already does, but she vowed to stick to it nonetheless. I've always believed her when she tells me she loves me, but somehow I believe her more now than ever.

I'm so glad I didn't go through with ending my life last week. I've experienced so many beautiful moments in this last 8 days alone. Things that would seem small and insignificant to some, but have been amazing and beautiful and really meaningful to me.

The first day after everything that happened, we spent the day at home together, mostly in bed. Just being in each others company. She held me and kept me calm for most of the day. Just the pure warmth and innocence of naked skin to skin contact was amazing. Jen sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the window, and as the sun was setting, I noticed the way the skin touched her skin and outlined her body, and it was truly an amazing thing to watch, so much so that I had to capture it. Her silhouette looked perfect against the dusk sky. I had a really profound feeling of being grateful to survive the previous afternoon, else I wouldn't have lived to see that moment.

Tuesday was a really, really amazing day, start to finish. One of the best days I've had in a long long time. Once Jen got back from work, we had a parcel arrive from Ithaca, actually genuinely one of my favourite bands. When the Covid-19 lockdown started, we bought a long sleeved t-shirt from them, because A. the shirt is sick as fuck and B. just to show some love and support. To our surprise, they sent us two shirts, the one that we ordered, as well as a bonus shirt from old merch stock, as well as a sticker and a handwritten note on the back of a photo of Djamila's dog, The Ham™.

Afterwards, we got dressed and headed out to go get some food shopping, and decided to talk through the park on the way home, and came across a beautiful bed of daffodils, so of course, I had to take pictures. The one above is my favourite, of course. Jen has the most beautiful smile, especially now that I know that she's happy for real.

After we'd been home, put the shopping away and showered, we headed out again. This time, to go hunt down a good spot to try and take some good photos of the "Pink Moon". We went for a nice long walk through the woods first though. It was so quiet, all we could hear were birds singing, the water running in the stream and the ground beneath our feet.

Once we found a good spot on high ground, we sat on top of two big rocks in front of some trees, one tree in particular was a a blossom tree, and we watched the sun go down, and just sat there quietly, looking at all of the colours meld and mix in the sky.

After the sun had set, we found the best spot we could find to set up the tripod and Jen sat by for a good half an hour to 45 minutes while I tried to get the best shot I could of the moon. I am honestly so so proud of this photo, I personally think it's one of the best photos I've ever taken.

I was starting to feel as though Jen was getting bored of sitting around, while I was indulging myself, as I know I often get carried away and absorbed when I'm doing something creative, and starting to feel like I should wrap things up, but instead, she took a big interest in what I was doing, and took the time and effort to get involved in what I was doing. She came and sat with me, and asked me questions about how my camera worked, and gave it a try for herself. I remember watching her try, and adjust, and try again and I remember feeling so much love, and feeling so proud of her. No one has ever gone out of their way to involve themselves in something that I love doing the way she did, and that memory, and that picture will stick with me forever.

This is just a bonus picture of Jen, because I thought she looked really beautiful under the glow of the streetlights and the moon. 😍

The day after/yesterday, after Jen came home from work, we spend another afternoon in bed together, to have some alone time. While the sex was amazing, as it usually is, that isn't the moment that sticks out for me, it's this one, in the photo. This might be grim, or kinda gross or just too much information for some, but I don't care. Now, ever since we have been together, both of us have become more comfortable body hair, periods, and pretty much everything that our bodies do naturally and we both find it beautiful. Something I've noticed, as well, is that people don't generally tend to talk much about grooming, especially when it comes to helping your partner groom and helping your partner with self care. Well, recently, we both decided to shave together, which is something both of us had to do before to please others, even though I never really liked it. However, this time is was different. Anyway, I have quite sensitive skin, and naturally, I get a lot of ingrown hairs, this time around have had a lot and it's been very uncomfortable and at times quite painful. When we were lay in bed together, I was in a bit of discomfort with it, and without batting an eyelid, Jen picks up the tweezers, heads back down there and starts removing and relieving all of the ingrown hairs. This really sticks out to me as a really beautiful moment. She was so gentle, and I was so comfortable that I felt no pain at all. I've never met anybody who treats my body with such care and respect before as she does, and she protects and looks after it better than I do. I remember being filled with love, and I felt like it was such an intimate moment, but a gentle, innocent kind of intimacy and it was beautiful. Another moment that will stay with me for a long, long time.

Later on in the evening, we went out for another walk, this time to go and meet Jen's mother and collect some food that she had got for us. On the way there, we came across a beautiful cherry blossom tree. Cherry blossoms are both of our favourite flowers, we absolutely adore them, so I wanted to photograph them, but I'm not a tall person and the tree was very high, so I couldn't reach to get a good close up photo of the flowers. Within seconds, she gave me a piggy back and hoisted me up high so I could get close enough to take this photo. We must've looked crazy to onlookers, but it was like we were the only two people in the world.

If I had gone through with ending my life last week, I would've missed out on all of these precious moments. As I said, they may seem small or insignificant to some, but to me, they hold so much weight and meaning. All of that would've been gone, within a split second of being overwhelmed.

Jennifer Stephanie Riddell, I wouldn't be here without you. I love you, so so much, more than words will ever be able to say. I can't wait to become your wife, so that everyday for the rest of our lives, we can carry on making beautiful memories out of the little things. Every day, you give me a reason to feel love and feel grateful for being alive. I hope you realise how special you are to me, and how meaningful it is to spend my life with you, however big or small the moment is.

#personal

[samtheflamingomain]

death and taxes: a love story

My mother is an accountant, so until I was kicked out 5 years ago, she did my taxes. Now I do them myself. It's really not hard, and I actually suck at math.

I've gotten used to how it goes. Every year it gets more and more streamlined - only took me a half hour today. Didn't even have to punch in all the numbers, they just magicked them into the boxes from my CRA account.

Another thing they've updated this year is that you get your Notice of Assessment (your receipt with the government saying yep you jumped through all our pointless hoops you can pay us now) immediately. I don't know how that's possible, but again, I know just enough to get by. I own nothing and claim nothing, so it's mostly just me hitting the "no" button a thousand times.

I was expecting 2 things today. First, that I'd owe around $300. Second, that my NOA wouldn't be processed for a week or so, like it used to be. Until you get that NOA, your number is still a guess. It's probably right, but you wanna be sure.

Well, fuck me twice I guess cuz I owe $820, signed, sealed, officiated and confirmed by the NOA. Payment due by April 30th.

Want a payment plan? Cool, we're gonna charge you daily compounded interest so it takes you a literal fucking year to pay it off if you pay $75/m - more than you pay for groceries. We're hungry, bitch. And you're about to be, too. For the crime of being poor, we sentence you to being much poorer.

I was out of work a lot of last year - like a lot of people. I collected EI, which I EARNED by working for 10 years and never collecting it. It helped me scrape by. I cracked $23k, which is a bit less than a normal, non-covid year. Last year I made $31k thanks to CERB. But I was able to save enough to pay all my taxes at once.

I was JUST getting back out of a serious relapse of my eating disorder. In February, I bought groceries for the first time in 6 months. I was "surviving" on the free meal I get at work twice a week and coffee. But once I start getting cold, I know I need to stop.

I run very hot, all the time. Summer is torture. I live in a cold basement but I'm usually still in shorts year-round. When I realized I was freezing to death, in a sweater, in a hot kitchen, standing in front of a deep fryer, I knew my organs were probably close to giving out.

I'm a trans man. This is the first time a relapse has lasted more than a month or two. Pre-transition, I used to go by not getting my period - another Very Bad Sign when you're anorexic. Without that metric, I just kept going. It wasn't until I remembered that being cold is actually a side effect, and a pretty serious one, that I decided it was time to eat again.

Well, looks like the Canadian Government has decided that actually no it's not. Ever again.

I might get lucky - April is a 3-pay month for me. If I can make it till April. I feel like I'm falling apart. I've never been more tired and sore in my life. Long Covid is real, kids.

On the other hand, I plan on killing myself sometime this year. Not doing this poverty shit for a minute longer than I need to to finish some last projects. I could probably get away with not paying before I go. If I do pay it, I'll be gone a lot sooner.

The only problem is that, if you don't pay anything before the 1st of May, and your income is provided by the government (like disability and welfare) they just go ahead and deduct a percentage from your monthly check!

They sure did patch up every single tiny crack that one or two poor people might slip through. Oh no, they used up all the cement and now they can't fill in the loopholes for the rich. Darn.

But the worst part is that I was going to call about going back to rehab today. Now, I can't afford to miss a day of work let alone a month or more. But I also can't afford to keep drinking as much as I do.

I can't afford life. I've been planning for a good 6 months now. In a way it is a choice I'm making, but the more life keeps kicking me while I'm down, the more I see it as a no-win scenario with only one way out. It feels less and less like a choice with each day, each extra kick to the balls.

I had it too easy for a hot minute. Lived like a king on CERB while still saving a shitload. Got sober for 5 months, saving a shitload. Lost 60 pounds, saving a shitload. Then I wasn't sober anymore, costing a shitload. Then I started eating again, costing a shitload. Then I took a near 50% cut to my income overnight. And as I returned to work, it quickly set in that this was it. That this would be my life forever. 80% of people born into poverty die in poverty. I'm not special.

My exhaustion suddenly started getting a lot worse a few months ago, and it's rapidly deteriorating. I'm lucky if I can stay awake for 8h at a time and wake up by the 4th alarm.

I've tried doing the Etsy things so many times and so many ways. I've tried writing freelance. I've taken typing jobs from courts that end up costing me money to produce because, in our year of the Lord 2022, we still have to print out these 200-page documents and deliver them to the judge in person. Between typing, editing, printing, dressing for court, bussing across town, waiting a good half hour... I'm basically working for nothing.

I've tried everything. Every side-hustle, every medication, every therapy. I just have too many problems that are very much permanent to believe it's possible for my life to ever improve in any way.

We put down animals for less.

#sam #suicide tw #ed tw #anorexia tw #poverty

[howthefuckwasthatusernametaken]

I have such a bad relationship with food

For one it's hard to find good food. Sometimes I eat only because I know I Have to.

Even simple meals somehow get messed up and I've been brought to tears by it multiple times. I don't ask for much. Please. Why would you let the food go out like that. You wouldnt eat that yourself would you.

Then there's the big problem.

Im afraid to eat because I'm terrified of being overweight. I was always very skinny Always. But when I was little I forgot who, but one of my family members said that I'd be fat one day because of all the snacks I ate. And yet, I had a different sibling always tell me that "there are starving kids in Africa" when I hardly eat any of my meal.

I feel so horrible eating more than once a day. It's so hard to fathom eating three actual meals a day. I very rarely get to 1000 calories. Mostly only 500-800. I Drink LOTS of black coffee tho and an apple if I have em.

When I eat I feel so fat. I FEEL fat. Even when I know I'm actually a bit underweight.

I had even gone through a time during highschool where I wouldn't eat anything at all for as long as I could stand it.

I've been working out for about a year now. My brother tells me if I want to gain muscle mass I need to eat more. Not only that but I've had a bit of a scare with my period just recently.

I think I've missed last months. I've never missed a period before. The workouts have helped with the pain but it's also moved them to later and later dates. Im not even eating enough to support myself on the basic level.

I got scared about my fertility. I Want to have kids some day. Not only that but it can cause bone problems and eat away my muscles.

I've always been able to see my bones. My spine and my ribs.my shoulder blades and pointy hip bones.

Despite my hourglass shape and big biddies I don't feel very attractive body wise. I don't feel good enough.

It's just. It's hard to get excited about food. And often times I'm simply Not hungry. I hardly eat and I barely drink any water. I often laugh and ask how I'm still alive, paired with my sleeping habits.

I've been making a real effort to eat more. I still feel horrible and fat even though I'm still underweight. But really I'm in the best shape I ever been. My tiny heart is stronger, I am stronger, muscles bigger. I actually like broccoli now, and Avocado!! Which is good because they're good for you. I didn't like those before.

[metaphysiqueonline]

Are you counting calories to lose weight?

Are you counting calories to lose weight?

If you are STOP IT RIGHT NOW! 

Is your goal to lose weight or lose fat? Fat seems to be hard for people to say and come to terms with. Your body weight is not important, your body fat is! 

So now you've stopped counting calories I want you to forget weighing yourself! "WHAT, STOP WEIGHING MYSELF" you shout out in your head as you read this. "how will I know if I'm losing weight?" 

Remember we're not trying to lose 'weight', we're reducing body fat and there are far better ways to 'see' your results. 

Your 'bodyweight' is made up of water, muscle, fat, bones, organs, food, fluids and more, and will fluctuate daily anyway. When I tell people to stop weighing themselves they look at me like I'm crazy! It can become an addiction in itself and hard to stop doing it. checking the scales to see if you're lighter and trust me in the early days I was there too! I wanted to lose 'weight' and dieted incorrectly and weighed myself sometimes twice a day, morning and night or even if I saw a set of scales I'd jump on! Sometimes I was happy, other times disappointed if it had gone up… and how could it when I'd been so strict on my 'diet' and exercise plan? If you've also done this you'll know how confusing this can be, and can leave you feeling down, and to the point where you want to give up! 

I see and hear a lot of 'weight loss' advice which states you have to be in a calorie deficit to 'lose weight'. This basically means you have to work out your daily calorie requirement (this will vary a lot between people) and lower it by around 200 - 500 calories per day to lose 'weight'. Now, this is very basic and sounds good in theory and has been the base of many plans for years. In fact, a lot of the big companies are still promoting this today. And I'll explain why during this article 

So if you eat less your body must use stored energy (fat) for fuel right? Wrong! Again this is a great theory, but the body is very clever and is designed for famine, which means it can survive for long periods of time without food

Weight loss this way will occur so you're probably thinking why I'm so against it. I'll prove this has absolutely no long term benefits, and will even incur greater fat STORAGE over time. Yes that's right you'll STORE more fat like this, and this is where I'll explain exactly what will happen to the body if you diet this way, and how the big 'weight loss' companies design their plans this way so you keep rebuying their plans! It's all money and sales to them, they do not care for your long term health. I do!

Let's have a look at Muscle, it's the most active tissue in the body, and requires lots of calories just to be maintained, and directly linked to the speed of your metabolism. This is the rate of which you burn through calories. If you have a fast metabolism you'll burn up calories for energy quickly and efficiently, and if it's a slow you'll store calories as fat instead. Now we all know someone who eats junk food non-stop and they never ever store fat. This person has a fast metabolism and they are burning through the calories as fast as they consume them. And we also know people that look at a chocolate bar and gain 2lbs! Sound familiar? 

There are a few factors which will affect this but I want to keep this simple. Muscle is active tissue and requires lots of calories to be maintained. If you decide to reduce your calories guess what happens? You lose muscle tissue! The muscle will be starved and will start to break down, especially through extreme dieting. Muscle is the least important tissue in the body and will be sacrificed for calories if needed, especially if your protein intake is low or your other cells need energy, the muscle will break down and be converted to energy for that reason. Also if your protein is low your body will break down muscle tissue, convert it back into amino acids and use it to build and repair other cells in the body!

A lot of people still associate protein with huge muscles and even bodybuilding, but protein is the building blocks for all tissues in the body. Hair, skin, eyes, nails, bones, organs etc are made up of amino acids. Protein is digested and broken down into amino acids and then they bond with peptides to form proteins. They then go off to do their job of building and repairing cells. 

Muscle has a weight to it, so when it is broken down for energy or its amino acids the body will weigh less on the scales. A lot of people on this diet will be happy at first, they are 'losing weight', but not from the fat stores, from muscle! Next, up your metabolic rate will start to slow down as the muscle you had has now gone. Remember muscle burns up calories and without it doing that, those excess calories will store as fat! 

So dieting this way the 'weight' will come off, and  'weight loss' can occur quickly too! The target 'weight' on the scales will be achieved, and you'll look better in clothes, but what does the body look like without clothes on? It'll actually have a similar look to before as the body will be smaller now, but have almost exactly the same shape and still be fat, or skinny fat as we call it. The skin will be looser and sag as there is nothing to hold it in place, and this can also happen with rapid weight loss. Your body fat percentage will be roughly the same even if your body is smaller and still have all the health risks associated with high body fat. 

Have you ever heard someone say "I've lost the weight and now I need to tone up". I bet you've heard this a lot, I've heard it a million times over the years. They have lost muscle weight, they are still holding fat, and they have soft sagging skin! 

The goal should be to reduce body fat, increase lean muscle tissue, become healthy, have more energy and look amazing naked! 

If your metabolism is now slower you'll have a much greater chance of eating food and storing it as fat instead of using it for cell repair and energy. 

Eating less food isn't always sustainable, and feeling hungry and lacking energy just isn't fun. It's easy to slip back to old eating habits like this and guess what? You'll store fat even quicker than before and go back to your original weight! But look worse than before as you'll have still lost the muscle. You'll weigh the same as before but your body fat percentage will be even higher without the muscle tissue!!! 

The big weight loss companies love this, they are designed to 'fail' as you'll lose muscle, lose weight, slow down your metabolism, reach your target weight, go back to old eating habits, regain the weight, look worse than before, go back to them as their 'diet' worked for you last time and this is called YO-YO dieting. This is bar far the best way to absolutely destroy your metabolism and slow it right down! But they'll make lots of money selling you plans again and again and again. 

Does this sound familiar? "I lost weight with (insert big company name) last time, it worked for me, I'll go back to them again.'' Guess how many times I've heard this? Well I've actually lost count

So that is why 'weight loss' and reducing calories are not such a good thing. There are far better ways of burning off stored fats and keeping it off without damaging your metabolism. In fact, speeding up your metabolism is a far better way of burning through the calories which I teach my clients to do on my 8-week weight management plan. This educates people into using the right nutrients for long term fat loss or muscle gain goals. It's super-efficient and sustainable and can be easily adjusted as your body changes shape. Not only will you look fantastic, you'll have loads of energy, better focus and concentration, amazing health and a great overall feeling of well-being. 

I hope you've enjoyed reading this and I've tried to make it easy to understand. If you have any questions please email me or DM me on my social sites. 

Healthy Regards, 

Steve

[email protected]

#health #healthy #healthyliving #diet #dieting #dietplans #weightloss #fatloss #weightmanagement #bodytransformation #physique #summerbody #fattofit #fitover40 #onlinecoaching #onlinefitnesscoach #personaltrainer