#ill post a link once the new one is up and running
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I watched the uncensored video of US airman Aaron Bushnell self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington while screaming “Free Palestine”. I hesitated to watch it because I knew once I put it into my mind it’s there for the rest of my life, but I figured I owe him that much.
I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken, which I suppose was pretty much what Bushnell was going for. Something to shake the world awake to the reality of what’s happening. Something to snap us out of the brainwashed and distracted stupor of western dystopia and turn our gaze to Gaza.
The sounds stay with you more than the sights. The sound of his gentle, youthful, Michael Cera-like voice as he walked toward the embassy. The sound of the round metal container he stored the accelerant in getting louder as it rolls toward the camera. The sound of Bushnell saying “Free Palestine”, then screaming it, then switching to wordless screams when the pain became too overwhelming, then forcing out one more “Free Palestine” before losing his words for good. The sound of the cop screaming at him to get on the ground over and over again. The sound of a first responder telling police to stop pointing guns at Bushnell’s burning body and go get fire extinguishers.
He remained standing for an unbelievable amount of time while he was burning. I don’t know where he got the strength to do it. He remained standing long after he’d stopped vocalizing.
Bushnell was taken to the hospital, where independent reporter Talia Jane reports that he has died. It was about as horrific a death as a human being can experience, and it was designed to be.
Shortly before his final act in this world, Bushnell posted the following message on Facebook:
“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’
“The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”
Aaron Bushnell has provided his own answer to this challenge. We’re all providing our own right now.
I would never do what Bushnell did, and I would never recommend anyone else does either. That said, I also can’t deny that his action is having its intended effect: drawing attention to the horrors that are happening in Gaza.
I know this is true because everywhere I see Aaron Bushnell being discussed online I see a massive deluge of pro-Israel trolls frantically swarming the comments in a mad rush to manipulate the narrative. They all understand how destructive it is to US and Israeli information interests for people to be seeing an international news story about a member of the US Air Force self-immolating on camera while screaming “Free Palestine”, and they are doing everything they can to mitigate that damage.
As I write this, there are with absolute certainty people digging through Bushnell’s history searching for dirt that can be spun as evidence that he was a bad person, that he was mentally ill, that he was steered astray by pro-Palestine activists and dissident media — whatever they can make stick. If they find something, literally anything, the smearmeisters and propagandists will run with it as far as they can.
That’s what they’re choosing to do at this point in history. That’s what they would have done during slavery, or the Jim Crow south, or apartheid. That’s what they’re doing while their country commits genocide right now. People are showing what they would have done with their response to Gaza, and they’re showing what they would have done with their response to the self-immolation of Aaron Bushnell.
I’m not going to link to the video here; watching it is a personal decision on which you should probably do your own legwork to make sure it’s really what you want. Whether you watch it or not, it happened, just like the incineration of Gaza is happening right now. We each own our personal response to that reality. This is who we are.
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No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)
Chapter 1: Scaredy-Cat
Prologue
Chapter 1: Current Chapter
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
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A/N: Spot is here!!
Hey all! Okay so first things first thank you so much for all the support of the last chapter! It honestly means alot given that ive never written before lol. Alsoooo sorry for the radio-silence after the last release, i just graduated highschool! So yay for me :) also means that ill have much more time to write since its summer break for me now. Lastly,sorry if this chapter seemed kinda slow, I wanted to try to incorporate what this universes’ Felicia Hardys “canon events”(or what would be of her canon events) would look like in this chapter to set up a bit of backstory, as someone who doesn’t read the comics nor play the games, pls forgive any inaccuracies in Felicias lore as I am only going based off of wikipedia (plus in this story reader is a minor so I wanted to exclude the nsfw trauma that Felicia goes through in og story) I also wanted to find out a way how to integrate reader into the main plot which is why i decided to feature Spot in this chapter :D thanks again for the support and don’t forget that this chapter along with any future ones will be posted to ao3/tumblr under the same title!
P.S. Much more Spider-Miles/Black Cat interactions next chapter!!
Word Count: 1844
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You remembered it like it was yesterday.
Seven months ago, Brooklyn, New York.
Your father - The Black Cat’s face on every screen in the country, but most importantly yours.
BREAKING NEWS: WORLD-RENOWNED CAT BURGLAR CAUGHT IN THE ACT : IDENTITY SHOCKS THE NATION
…huh?
LIVE ON THE SCENE: ‘BLACK CAT’ REVEALED TO BE MULTI MILLIONAIRE WALTER HARDY AFTER RUN-IN WITH SPIDER-MAN
…no, this-
THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT HEIST SCENE - POSSESSIONS TO BE TURNED IN TO OFFICIALS
This can’t be happening.
It was all too much at once.
He never kept it secret from you. You knew about your father’s job.
You knew all about what he did. The planning, the heists, the reselling, he had done it for years. And you knew all about it. But he had been doing this for years. Long enough to allow your family to live very comfortably. Long enough that you believed he would never be caught.
But yet there you were, all that you knew burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Frantically packing everything you could into any bag you could find; clothes, money, pictures, weapons, anything - before they could take it away from you.
And when they did, it was brutal.
Live-streamed news coverage of men raiding your home, rummaging through your stuff- your father’s stuff- as if he never existed.
Soon enough there were auctions. Bids, worth millions, on your father’s items, broadcasted across the nation, with drinks and music and finger foods - they made a fucking sport out of it.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the cheers in the street after the big-bad-black-cat was pronounced dead. The endless praise Spider-man received, that of which he took with a smile on his face. You had wished you could kill him.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the day Peter Parker died.
You laughed.
. . . . . . . . . .
Seven months later, Brooklyn, New York.
Ugh.
Muscles aching, you stretched up in your bed, and groaned. Ruffling the bedhead out of your hair, you reluctantly trudged out of your mattress to open a window. Coincidentally, one of your many cats was perched perfectly on its sill, wide-eyed and tail flicking in your direction.
“...This whole heist stuff is really catching up to me, huh?”
The cat stared. You sighed. You really had to get yourself some friends.
Ever since your fathers passing, you’ve basically been on your own. Shortly after all his (and your) possessions were seized, you hopped around until you managed to find shelter in a shitty apartment on the west side of town. You, fueled purely by spite (with a tasteful teeny tiny dash of vengeance on the side), inherited the criminal persona of your father, along with his criminal tendencies, and took upon yourself the name of The Black Cat.
All this time you’ve managed to keep your identity completely secret, not even your resellers knew who you were. That came with one major drawback though… you were extremely lonely.
Even with your frequent charity rounds around the community, noone really knew who you were. Even though Black Cat was nonviolent, the name was widely feared seemingly everywhere you went. Even with your days at school, the school you’ve been going to for months now, you made your way around the halls unnoticed.
Speaking of school, you were late.
Shit.
Spending ample time dazing out your window, you’ve completely lost track of time. You disregarded your hair and rushed to pull on your uniform. Stumbling around your complex you hastily dumped too large of a portion of cat food into the automatic feeder, something you’re sure the cats will be grateful for. Shoving a few snacks into your bag, you simultaneously shuffled into your school shoes, proceeding to dash out the door.
Sprinting down the stairs, nearly tripping once, twice, you whipped out your phone to check when the next bus route would arrive. 35 minutes.
Shitshitshit.
You paused, still in the stairwell, before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, towards the rooftop terrace. Creaking open the door, you checked to make sure noone else was up there before making your way towards the edge of the terrace. To anyone else but you, it would look like a young student was about to make an unfortunate decision and jump. And jump you did.
You fell for a few seconds, relishing in the way your stomach dropped. You’d never get tired of that feeling. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. Pulling and releasing, you quickly fell into a swinging pattern, towards Brooklyn Visions.
Hidden from the eyes of civilians, you swung yourself through the shadows. Everyone looked so small from up there, and for a brief second, you found power in your lonesome. In the corner of your eye you noticed what seemed to be a lanky white figure clumsily flying through the air. (You paid it no mind).
Dropping down into a dark alleyway much closer to campus, you continued your mad dash towards the main entrance. Winded, you finally made your way inside the building, a thin layer of sweat shined on your forehead. The hallways were empty, class must be in session. You took a few steps forward, making your way towards your classroom until being knocked over by a student, very evidently in a hurry.
“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m just in a rush, I didn’t mean…”
The boy reached out his hand to help you up.
“Hey, it's no problem, I get it.”
You smiled, and took your hand in his. He hesitated for a moment, staring, brows furrowed at your now interlocked hands, before nodding and continuing his sprint down the hallways.
You took in his disheveled appearance, his wonky tie, his half-tucked shirt, untied laces, dark eyes, curly hair, brown skin, sweaty palms…
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted with the shrill ringing of the school bell. Suddenly, the hallways flooded with students rushing towards their next classes, you decided to follow suit.
On the other side of the hallway, Miles Morales lingered on how his spidey-sense flashed alarms in his head when his hand touched yours. Every nerve in his system telling him to run, fight, dodge, anything to get away from you-he couldn't put his finger on why. (He paid it no mind). Blaming it on nerves, Miles shoved his way through the packed hallways, dreading the meeting waiting for him in the guidance counselor's office.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
School was a bust, as always. Nothing new, you made your way through the rest of the day unnoticed. As always. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now.
At the moment, you were in the middle of going through numerous number-codes on a padlock blocking the vault door to an extremely expensive gemstone. You’ve been salivating over this stone for weeks now, planning out how and when exactly you would strike to get this thing in your hands. You could see it now, the headlines, the chaos, after some rando millionaire’s little rock was taken from him…
“Woah, hey, you’re new!”
You flinched, hard. Whipping around towards the source of this unusually chipper voice. You were met with… a cow? … Man?
You stared, hard.
“Okay, hey. The ogling isn’t necessary… I just-”
The cowman’s sentence was cut short with a quick lash of your whip, that of which he caught…? Your whip seemed to phase right through a large black hole on his torso, the opposite end appearing in a similar black hole right behind you, the whips end striking your back. You cried out, hit with the full force of your lash.
Sinister giggles emerged from the spotted figure, pointed towards your pained form. You trembled, in shock.
“It’s rude to interrupt.”
Spot stepped slowly towards you, his…well, spots, whirring aggressively, pointedly. You were frozen on the ground. Staring up at him, your lips trembled open.
“What,” You coughed. Once, twice. “-what are you?”
The black and white figure straightened, only to then fold over into a dramatic, hilariously unthreatening pose.
“You, can call me… The Sp-”
“Some sort of cow?” You snickered. It was now his turn to flinch, hard.
“I am NOT a-” The cow cleared his throat. “I am not a cow…whydoeseveryonesaythat…I, am the most dangerous villain you’ve ever seen, The Spo-”
“I mean, what’s with that getup?” The grin on your face grew. “Is that… is that supposed to be a costume? Orrrr…”
The Spot sighed, defeated. “...it’s skin.”
“It’s skin?”
“Yes, yes, now I-”
You stood up, energy back and eyes crinkled.
“Wow, that’s…hm, interesting…skin, that’s skin? Sorry, sorry-listen man, I uh, I really gotta get back to this, so if you don’t mind?”
Stepping backwards in offence, the spotted figure shook in anger before swinging out his arm, releasing numerous dark voids around the room. Hitting practically every surface, but one most importantly, landing on the vault door, separating you, from your stone.
“Ah-wait-”
Swiftly, The Spot weaved his way through his holes, limbs popping up and out around the room in a way you couldn’t even begin to reach for your whip.
No way was he about to take it from you.
But take it, he did.
In what felt like seconds, the whole room was engulfed in black. Stumbling backwards, you fell through one of the voids, flailing ungracefully, swimming through nothing.
It was hard to breathe.
A shrill crackling terrorized your ears, and before you, appeared a very disheveled Spot, now fully black with white spots, facial dot whirring and trained on you.
Gem in hand.
Panic.
You were panicking. The sound of blood thrummed in your ears as you squirmed around in nothingness. Fuck the rock, you just had to get out of here.
A cold hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upwards, towards the crackling form.
For the second time today, you were frozen.
“I am not a cow,”
The form spoke lowly.
“I am not some villain of the week”,
Frozen still, you did nothing but stare straight into his glare.
“I. Am. The Spot”.
Suddenly, you were dropped. For the second time today, your stomach dropped with you. Next thing you know you’re falling through another void, leading not into darkness, but through the city skyline. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building.
As soon as your feet reached a solid surface, your legs buckled. Heaving, you failed to process what just took place, heart pounding in your ears.
“...the fuck was that?”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Miles received word of commotion taking place downtown, something to do with spots. He had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, and it was. It was, and was so much worse.
Dark spots littered a large manor, maniacal cackling emerging from its center. In the corner of his eye a familiar masked figure hunched over, breathing rapidly, staring straight ahead at the mess of spots.
(He paid it some mind.)
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Ppl that asked me to tag them!(thxx 4 the support!)
@nightshxdex
@itszzmoon
@blackcat-kittyblogs
@vxxxb
<3
#miles morales x reader#atsv x you#atsv#reader insert#atsv x reader#atsv reader insert#spider-man: across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse x reader#black cat! reader#hobie brown x reader#gwen stacy x reader#pavitr prabhakar x reader#miguel ohara
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Dazai Osamu: The Protector
Pt. 3 “Did you miss me, mistress?”
Genre: Romance & fluff // PM!Dazai x f!reader
⚠️: SEVERE adolescence romance
A/N: SOMEONE MENTIONED ME AS ONE OF THEIR FAV FANFIC WRITERS AND I NEED TO KNOW WHO IT WAS // Sorry for being super inactive. I’ve been trying to write so many stories (they’re all in my drafts and they’re all about Dazai). I wanted to write something about Dazai’s death but I also wanted to continue “The Protector” AKA my favorite series ever. I daydream about the plot everyday (like a normal person). To get to the point, I will be extremely inactive and will only be posting “The Protector” and maybe do a few requests. This has been sitting in my drafts for days and this is your typical teenage romance. For comparison, I started this around August 11, and others that I started July 💀💀 (Lastly, don’t mind me using ADA!Dazai for the pictures, he’s just so cute and I totally didn’t run out of PM!Dazai icons), This is now September me !! DAZAI IS ALIVE WOOOO
Inspo: Dangerously Yours The Highwayman & lines from Masquerade
Links: Masterlist … will be making a new masterlist
“Oh mistress.. you’re burning up..” Dazai spoke in a soft voice as he touched your forehead gently with the back of his palm. His touch was gentle and calculated, as was his voice.
It had been a day since you’ve been rained on and now you were sick. Thankfully, Dazai is well, he didn’t seem to be ill at all. Your father was worried about you but due to some flight restrictions he couldn’t come home as early as he wanted to. As it turned out there was a typhoon and your father couldn’t leave at all.
In the few days you’ve known Dazai he was always kind to you. The aura he gave off left you infatuated. Maybe it was because you’ve been sheltered, maybe because he was young and so were you, or maybe because you’ve seen him in a thousand plays, read him in as many books. When you heard the most beautiful piece of music you thought he’d like that. Once, you saw a beautiful couple strolling and knew that’s how you’d be with him.
Your mind was full of him and you couldn’t understand why. “Mistress..” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he whispered gently. You looked at him with a gentle gaze to signal that you were listening, “I’d have to leave you for a few hours today, for an important meeting. A doctor and two men from the mafia, directly under Hirotsu-san will take care of you while I’m gone.”
Dazai spoke in a soft and caring voice. He wanted to make sure that you would be okay. His words made you frown slightly which made him smile. To him, you looked adorable. He chuckled quietly then added, “It’ll only be for a few hours mistress, you’ll barely notice that I’m gone.” You didn’t want to hear it, you were being petty and childish yet he didn’t mind.
“Mistress, please speak to me..” he pleaded in a soft voice as he got closer to you. Your heard was turned away from him, you were acting in a paltry manner, “Please mistress, I have to be at that meeting, I wouldn’t want to go without speaking to you..” he quietly added as you continued to ignore him. He lifted your hand gently and kissed the back of your palm with his rough lips.
He frowned when you only responded with a nod. It seemed like he hadn’t gotten the reaction that he wanted. Dazai then gently placed your hand back to your side and looked at you, as if pondering something intricate. In actuality he was just thinking of you. He only thought of how gently you laid and how soft you looked with your head slightly sinking onto the pillow.
As the doctor and bodyguards arrived and went up to your room Dazai checked the time on the beautifully decorated wall clock on top of the door frame—too bad that the clock showed that it was time for him to leave. Dazai left with a frown, deep down he found your antics amusing but a part of him yearned for your attention and reassurance. Now that he left you were stuck with a room full of people you didn’t know.
His meeting went on for hours. You didn’t know how long you could stay under the careful supervision of these three unfamiliar faces. The doctor checked up on your symptoms and progress while the bodyguards stood silently next to your bed. You missed Dazai.
“Did you miss me mistress?” His words woke you up from the trance you were in, due to your various thoughts of when he’ll be back, finally—he came.
Dazai was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers wjth a wide smile on his usually, cold face, “I saw you looking at them through the window of the flower shop when we were in town for your birthday, mistress.” He spoke fondly as if he thought of you and your happiness dearly.
The doctor and the bodyguards were then dismissed by Dazai. He carefully put the flowers into a vase and poured just the right amount of water in, making sure they’ll be preserved and beautiful even if they would wilt in a few days. His actions made the butterflies in your stomach rampage. “Thank- Thank you, Dazai-kun,” you spoke softly as you looked over at the flowers, sitting peacefully in the vase.
“You’re welcome mistress,” he replied, “Well then, shouldn’t you answer my question, mistress? Did you miss me?” He repeated. You looked away and nodded gently in response to his question. He made you feel safe and frightened all at the same time. A huge wave of emotions drowned you every time he was near, you didn’t know if you were on top of the world or 6ft under.
He smiled softly at your answer. You’ve only known each other for four days yet it felt like four decades. Maybe it was the fact that you were shut off from the outside world for most of your life. It could also be the fact that you haven’t received such affection from a man.
But it also could be the way he looks at you. The way he listens to you intently. How he always keeps you safe even more so than your past bodyguards did. Although, it could just be the fact that he’s from the mafia. That he just wanted to keep his job. Your heart shattered as you thought deeply about every interaction and how superficial it was.
Dazai soon began to notice that you were deep in thought. He decided to stay by your bedside as he looked at you fondly. As if you were a rare sight, one that could only be seen once in a lifetime. His attraction to you was more than superficial. It could’ve also been the fact that he had never received such innocent affection from his peers nor those in authority.
Being by your side helped him escape the cruel world he truly lived in. Is this what falling in love feels like? Maybe near enough. He kept telling himself to snap out of it, “An executive of the Port Mafia? In love with the daughter of a wealthy and powerful ally? Pathetic.” He told himself. Dazai’s true purpose held him back.
Scheduled post: 09/30/23 18:00PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs headcanons#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#dazai x reader#pm!dazai#pm!dazai x reader#pm!dazai x f!reader#osamu#dazai
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I haven't seen anyone mention it on here, most likely because English language news sources are reporting them as friends, but a man murdered a lesbian couple in Hong Kong last week.
(Twitter thread includes more sources and proof of the two victims being in a relationship. However, video of the attack exists online and some of the photos in Chinese news articles are graphic/disturbing. Please proceed with caution.)
Fang Xiaotong (26 years old) and Liu Jixi (22 years old) were stabbed to death by a 39 year old man in a targeted attack in a shopping mall. Allegedly, he purchased the knife only after seeing the visibly gay couple, then attacked Fang Xiaotong, who was a Tom, which has a similar meaning to a butch or stud or masc lesbian. Liu Jixi attempted to intervene to save her girlfriend, but the perpetrator stabbed her also. Bystanders and mall security did not intervene, although eventually chefs who worked at the mall heard screams and armed themselves with stools before attempting to stop the attacker. The perpetrator then waited calmly for the police, and both women were pronounced dead at the hospital. While Western sources are painting this as a result of mental illness, the video and local news stories make it clear that this was likely a hate crime.
(Nb. I've also seen their names given as Fong Hiu-tung and Lau Kai-hei, and also that they may have used the nicknames "Daniel" and "Amber". I can't know which names they would have preferred to be used, hence why I'm including all of them here but using Fang Xiaotong and Liu Jixi throughout the post for consistency and clarity.)
From Naomi Wu, whose twitter thread I've linked above, an explanation of the sometimes deadly hostilities Toms and other lesbians face in China and Hong Kong:
When men attack Toms (butches), they think a lot of things- sometimes in Chinese we say "one lesbian steals two men's wives"- herself and her partner. And for bitter middle-aged, unmarried men like this attacker, they've been told their whole life they are owed a wife to wait on them hand and foot- and they feel robbed and wronged by a young handsome Tom taking what's "theirs". They are angry, entitled, jealous- they want to teach her a lesson. They want to punish her for having what is rightfully theirs when they don't. Then it's "Oh, if you want to act like a man, I'll treat you like one". Most need to justify it to themselves to get started. Of course, the femme/Dee/P is always next, because we will fight to save our Tom, and once we do, they can justify turning their violence on us next. In their twisted head, they decide their unprovoked attack was "fighting 1-on-1" and it's our fault for getting involved. All Toms know the deal, they cannot win, all Toms tell their girls again and again "if something happens, just run, I can take it". When the time comes, all Toms try to buy their girl time to get away- even as they go down under fists and boots...or knives They want to buy us time, but no femmes can bear to leave them, so it never works. But they always go for our Toms first, then us. Every time.
Fang Xiaotong was a waiter in a high-end restaurant. She loved small animals and children and had lived with her mother and step-sister prior to moving in with Liu Jixi one to two months before the attack. Liu Jixi was a hair stylist and also worked part-time at a bar, which is apparently where she and Fang Xiaotong met. On the day of the attack, both women were planning to meet up with Fang Xiaotong's family to celebrate her grandfather's birthday.
Rest in peace 🫶 your courage will not be forgotten.
#lesbophobia#homophobia#lgbt#lesbian feminism#radfem safe#radical feminism#idek how to tag this i just want people to see it#it's so unfair to see them being erased before our eyes
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The DNI that made you do math to use it?? 👀👀👀
Youre the first one who asked, so you get the answer.
This person was one of the other two weirdos from the Half Life RP discord server i teased at in this post earlier this week:
Once again, i want to disclaimer that this is not a callout post, I will not be giving any details that could be used to identify this person, and I will not be posting screenshots this time because they are still active on tumblr afaik. I dont want this to be used to bully anybody, this is just meant to be my personal experience with my specific side of this story. You can DM me directly or throw in a private answer request in an ask if you want screenshots, but only people i already know and trust not to cyberbully them will get a direct link to the DNI. The person in the story I linked is no longer active anywhere online, which is why I provided screenshots in that story.
And before i lay out the DNI details, I just want to say... there is a FINE LINE between requesting accommodations for a mental illness and infantilizing yourself. I can handle the former just fine, I will do all I can to help, but if you're a grown-ass adult babying yourself and then going "waa im autistic i cant do anything" i have ZERO tolerance for that. Buddy, I'm autistic, and I'm telling you to grow the fuck up.
Yeah, this person was one of those. They were over 18, and had public breakdowns about how everything was just soooo hard for them and everybody else was being problematic and ableist for *checks notes* asking them to wait in a line that was a little long for a new phone plan. Real example, they were screaming and crying in the vent channel because the line at a verizon store was a little long, and implying their father was ableist for asking them to wait for 20 minutes. Buddy, there are some things you JUST need to deal with in the real world regardless of whatever mental soup you have going on. If your autism is that bad, the solution is looking into things like noise canceling headphones, sunglasses, etc. But the world will not stop having lines that you just need to wait in sometimes because you dont like them.
I know that sounds harsh, but they werent exactly the type of person im willing to give the benefit of the doubt to. The majority of their problems were entirely their own fault, and they were clearly enabling and feeding the harder parts of their autism rather than doing anything in the way of learning to cope with it. I am terrified of spiders, like full on panic-inducing terrified of them, but I throw hands at them instead of running or freezing up. One time, I posted a photo of this gigantic-ass spider that was in my dorm room after I screamed and squashed it with my heavy duty winter outdoor patrol boots (im a security guard, not a cop, before anyone draws the wrong conclusion from that), and they proceeded to vague about me IN THE SAME SERVER about how problematic and insensitive i am for triggering their arachnophobia. My brother in christ when did you ever say you were triggered by spiders? Do you expect me to read your fucking mind?
Another instance was when they asked for the role to access the nsfw channel. They were over 18, so it was granted. They then got mad at us whenever we got horny on main in the sex channel because they were only there for the dirty jokes (that were posted in the main server anyway because none of us consider JOKES to be inappropriate). They literally asked for the sex channel role and then claimed we were being problematic because we talked about sex in the sex channel when they were uncomfortable with sex. And they had borderline puritan attitudes around sex. They acted like sex was icky and gross and should never be discussed around them lest it corrupt their pure innocent soul. Yeah thats your own fault chief, grow the fuck up.
Some lightning round stories: they broke up with their boyfriend purely because he liked "irredeemable media" and when said boyfriend said they were being a total dick for that, they proceeded to whine and cry that he was actually being abusive and terrible for being upset that he was dumped over the fucking movies he liked of all things. They once sat outside their little siblings recital and complained that their parents were problematic for not charging their switch enough because it died at the same recital they couldnt be assed to sit in for because "waaaa its too boring and thats bad for my autism." Didnt even TRY, just sat outside the door playing switch and then complained that their parents didnt charge their switch enough. Can you not plug something into a wall your damn self.
Needless to say, i didnt like them very much. I can handle legitimate accommodations, but they were just so self-infantilising that they gave the rest of us a bad name. Your autism is not an excuse to act like a fucking baby. You are not made of porcelain, you will not shatter at the slightest touch, being uncomfortable is a part of life youre going to have to deal with. Its not your autism at this point, youre a grown-ass adult who throws a tantrum when the line is a little long. GROW. UP.
Now that that rants over, lets get into what the DNI on their blog was like, because this behavior from them that I just outlined really contextualizes it.
Their DNI had two tiers. The first was "red flags," which meant that if you met any one of them you apparently werent allowed to interact. Of this included your typical nazis, pedophiles, terfs, and... beastars fans. No word of a lie. Being a fan of beastars was apparently just as bad as being a nazi. What did my boy legosi do to you? (Side note: i am forever enamored with how these people seem to think that theres people out there who both self-identify as nazis and would respect a DNI. I didnt even respect that DNI. I didnt interact with them because i thought they were a terrible person, but i did not take that DNI seriously. I was openly posting about beastars in the same server LMAO) and it wasn't just beastars, there was a ton of media that i didnt even know had discourse around them that they listed as red flags if you ever touched. Amazing.
The second tier was "yellow flags" which meant that you werent allowed to interact if you met any 3 or more of them. Here was mostly media, including homestuck fans, neil gaiman fans (WHAT DID NEIL DO TO YOU), and harry potter iirc. (WHY DID YOU SINGLE OUT BEASTARS?? WHAT DID MY BOY LEGOSI DO TO YOU) my favourite part of this though, was that republicans were listed under yellow flags. Apparently its worse to be a beastars fan than a republican. We arent gonna fucking make it
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I hate to get to this point but I'm running out of options and time.
I am a disabled chronically ill trans man. After graduating college I moved to a new town and I had a job for about 2 weeks before it had to close down permanently and I've been unemployed ever since it's been about 4 months. I also don't qualify for unemployment which means I have been just slowly draining what little I have in my bank account every once in awhile getting small amounts of money here and there but not nearly enough to pay my rent utilities or get the things I need for my health.
One of my biggest fears is getting separated from my cat and I know that sounds silly but we are very bonded and need each other. She has taking care of me since my health started to decline. A lot of the time she doesn't even let me be in a different room than her and most of the pictures I have with her she's on top of me. I know she would struggle without me and I would struggle so much without her I can't lose her. If I end up being able to pay my rent and lose housing I probably wouldn't be able to take her with me
I am trying to get my small business up and running and get more clients I am trying to apply for disability and I am trying desperately to find a job. Even if I get support I'm not going to stop trying to do those things I just need help to give me more time.
Another way to support me is to support my tarot reading business the information for that is pinned on my account
Another way is just to press some buttons and boost this post as well as my post on my tiktok which you can also find linked In the pinned post on my page
Thank you for your time
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Trans Day of Remembrance
CW's: gun violence, and a whole lot of personal rage.
It's our day of remembering those we've lost. Those taken from us too soon, of which there are far too many.
It's a day I wasn't planning to celebrate or post about at all. I haven't actually, to my knowledge, lost anyone I know in my circles of friends/family. I don't work as a freelance journalist anymore, haven't in years. I shouldn't be having to cover news, much less news like this. And then, Colorado happened last night. I won't link the story here or name the killer, and right now, we don't have identities for the victims.
And already I'm seeing the same speculations that happen every time there's one of these incidents.
That the killer was mentally ill.
That he himself was closeted somehow.
That there was nothing that could have been done.
That these were the actions of a lone individual.
None of which is true or matters. If there was no targeted campaign of hate against LGBTQ+ folk, this wouldn't have happened. If hatemongers were properly curtailed and deplatformed online, this wouldn't have happened. If we fucking did ANYTHING about gun culture in this country, this wouldn't have happened. If people were taught that you don't need to hate and kill what you fear, this wouldn't have happened. If so much of mainstream culture wasn't a toxic pile of hatred, this wouldn't have happened. If politicians that supposedly support us actually did anything other than make us an issue to swing poll numbers with, this wouldn't have happened. If we, en masse, and I mean you too, dear cis/straight reader, pressured society to actually DO A GODDAMN THING this wouldn't have happened.
But you didn't, so all we have once more is grief and rage and pain as yet more lives are taken from this community far too soon.
According to the Human Rights commission, 32 people were murdered so far this year solely for being trans. Those numbers, of course, don't include last night. And those numbers always tend to run low, because of inaccuracies in reporting or deliberate attempts to cover up the fact that victim was transgender. That's just in the United States. Worldwide, the numbers are far higher. And as always, the numbers disproportionately affect trans people of color far more than any other demographic.
This should be radicalizing you. The fact that it hasn't is even more infuriating.
If you're our allies, quit speculating on a killer that wanted us dead. Amplify our voices instead so that the world sees us as human and not a fearful monsters to be killed. Raise your own voices as well to help change policy, to get all of us the protections and rights we deserve.
Do me a favor today- don't give in to speculating about a brainwashed man who decided to murder multiple people and shout down those who do. I'll be posting their names following this paragraph, but here's the full article covering those who lost their lives so far this year. Go read it. Sit with it. BE UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT IT. And make changes so it doesn't happen again.
In memoriam:
Amariey Lei
Duval Princess
Cypress Ramos
Naomie Skinner
Matthew Angelo Spampinato
Paloma Vazquez
Tatiana Labelle
Kathryn "Katie" Newhouse
Kenyatta "Kesha" Webster
Miia Love Parker
Ariyanna Mitchell
Fern Feather
Ray Muscat
Nedra Sequence Morris
Chanelika Y'ella Dior Hemingway
Sasha Mason
Brazil Johnson
Shawmaynè Giselle Marie
Kitty Monroe
Martasia Richmond
Keshia Chanel Geter
Cherry Bush
Marisela Castro
Hayden Davis
Kandii Reed
Aaron Lynch
Maddie Hofmann
Dede Ricks
Mya Allen
Acey Morrison
Semaj Billingslea
Tiffany Banks
Let their memories be a blessing. And let us do better.
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SHIT I forgot I should do one of those pinned posts explaining who I am. i mean probably i kinda like the mystery but eh whatever.
im Basil. unovan. she/her. Hex Maniac "curse fanatic" by circumstance.
blog title source - personal curse tracker
I've got Toothpaste, he's a shiny Obstagoon and my baby boy; Thyme, that Dusknoir, my uncle; Jupetta, a Banette, Thyme's Pokemon before he turned into a Dusknoir.
There's also Skorna, the bone Runerigus. She's just a pest.
Deckard, a white-furred Zorua (NOT HISUIAN) i found in my backyard. He's baby
Mint, a Sneasel I got as a gift from a friend of mine 💜 she's very bity
I've also got a new Poryphone named Porypory. it speaks in pink, is very polite.
oh and the 19 shuppet from the halloween party
... And Bluebell! An Alolan Meowth I found in the dumpster in Alola. She's a million years old and the sweetest cat in the world
image of thyme here
image of skorna here
image of toothpaste here (also me)
image of jupetta (mostly toothpaste tho)
image of deckard (and also me)
image of mint (and my arm)
this weird breloom someone let loose outside my house??
> ooc notes under the cut
9/15/23 updated her 'main' image to be more in line with how i draw her
subscribed blogs only dash (I'm really just putting this here for myself but if y'all need it idm)
my other pokeirl blogs are @crossbones-n-skull and @nifuunbakufuun!
join the hex maniac discord server! more info (kinda) in linked tumblr post. if the link is dead lmk ill fix it (discord added a thirty day link cap)
basil's cousin, sage, is over at @sage-the-exorcist (run by my friend, statik!) she currently has him blocked (its not working)
additional facts for my own reference:
skorna speaks in orange.
thyme speaks in green.
porypory speaks in pink.
jupetta, toothpaste, and deckard don't speak through the blog. (however, if given voice through an event, their text will be colored as seen.)
two voice claims that i'm debating (but i take suggestions)
family bibliography (books)
loose timeline
view the blog in chronological order here! (bear in mind there is quite a lot. lol)
Basil is 25 (as of nov 1st 2023!). I'm (the mod) 19.
she lives in the woods around icirrus city, in an old house that she just... took. it was abandoned so what about it its hers now
thyme the dusknoir is her uncle. he did not die naturally.
jupetta the banette was her uncle's, but technically is hers now. she inexplicably knows Teleport.
skorna the runerigus isn't kept to a Pokeball, as she and Basil are literally bound to each other through possession bullshit.
back when thyme was alive, they did a LOT of travelling. she's primarily been to galar and kalos, but have stopped in every region at least once. only place they haven't been to is paldea, and that's because thyme isn't allowed in because he tried to go in the crater
thyme had a TV show.
mun is aromantic, but Basil is bisexual with a female lean
post detailing Basil and Skorna's connection
old ref image, for archival purposes:
if anyone ever wants to plot anything, feel free to dm me! I'm always down, could be fun. I just don't do "in-person" RP on Tumblr- this is strictly a social media site for the character. update- i will rarely do off-rotumblr RP, but it is not going to be frequent. all threads will be completely under readmores
note that, while Basil most likely won't be super active in high-stakes plotlines, i might have her react to some, especially if i find them interesting. she's no main character.
if you want your character to know basil out-of-rotumblr, feel free to DM me here on tumblr! my PMs, unless specified are an ooc-only zone and im always happy to chat about rp.
(however, please keep in mind that i'm really not one for small talk that doesn't have to do with rp; i have too many bad experiences with people befriending me in my PMs and then just offloading trauma. i don't shut the fuck up in discord servers where other people are though lmao.)
on that note, i do have a discord! if you wanna invite me to any servers feel free to pm me about that too!
#about post#current running plot:#thyme and thyme again#former threads:#weird breloom#an ill advised sidequest#regi runes#skornaling saga#between thyme and space#possession recovery#spiritomb halloween#basilblogging#<- going to tag every post as that#for /chrono purposes
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Next part!!! Yes I know this is a very short part but I promise as we get through the first couple planning chapters that set everything up. The word count will be at abt 1,000- 2,000-3,000 so bare with me here. 😭😭😭
This story is also on Wattpad and you can find that, also a tag list on the pinned post on my account. Thanks for all the love I've gotten on the first part, I hope you all like this one. - wren
Witching Hour
Summary: Twyla Addams and her twin gets sent off to Nevermore school of the supernatural and anything weird- they get exposed to new secrets, a mystery, and budding friendships, and romances.
Warning: murder, torture, kissing, mental illnesses
Part one is linked at the bottom, my full master list is also pinned on my page.
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NANCY REAGAN HIGHSCHOOL, eight schools, five years. It's safe to say Twyla and Wednesday are a bit of a nuisance to the public school system.
Oh and that. The public school system...
"hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools, run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago"
Though they admire the sadism.
Said girls, walked through the hall. Loud giggles and crowds of friends parting for the girls, as they whisper and gossip. Even the teachers and faculty crowded around to watch as Twyla and Wednesday reached their brother's locker.
The bell rang and soon everyone scattered around eager to get home. A group of jocks shoved and pushed each other around laughing at the locker that was shaking with smothered sounds of panic.
They only laughed harder rushing away like idiots once the two approached.
Wednesday opened the door with sharpie scattered all around decorating it with words of hatred, and soon the girls' brother; Pugsley fell out.
Wrapped up tight in a rope of twine and an apple sitting in his mouth.
The first question in Twyla's mind- and mouth was "who did this?"
Pugsley just whimpered and shook his head frantically the apple still stuck tightly in his mouth.
"I want names."
Wednesday knelt taking the apple from his mouth and started expectantly.
He still just shook his head and whispered "I don't know who they were. Honest, it happened so fast."
Wednesday just sighed and began undying him, not noticing when her twin snuck off slowly walking herself into the locker and joining the shadows.
"Pugsley. Emotion equals weakness. Pull yourself together."
He just whimpered more.
"Now."
Looking back in her peripheral when she noticed her siren-eyed sister no longer standing behind her.
But rather a few feet away, walking fast in the walls.
Only focus on one thing and only feeling a dark need for revenge. Despite her younger brother being unwilling to give up names- it didn't take a genius to put it together.
Just think of all the context clues, who wrote those things on his locker? Who just so happened to be standing right outside his locker when she approached? Who ran away laughing as soon as she got there?
Plus who's had a history of picking on smaller students?
Conveniently she also knew just where they'd be after school.
She left the school quick.
Due to her shadow powers she often found it easier to get places on time, time moves a lot slower when your someone or something else's shadow.
She made quick of her errand once she got to her destination and hurried back only making it to the end of her sibling's conversation,
"what I do best." she walked away not noticing the shadow trailing behind her feet.
Once she reached some shadowy steps, Twyla jumped out from behind her and whispered "so what's your plan?"
Wednesday surprised but not fazed turned around slow with her mouth open. Ready to speak of her plan but her eyes caught on the shiny plastic bags full of water and fish that her sister had dangling from her gloved hands.
"well, that'll do."
Twyla raised her eyebrows slowly and slunked down the rest of the steps not making a sound.
Her deadpan expression showed no signs of her plan when she disappeared once more.
This time Wednesday followed her figure through the school, passing the class they were just in avoiding looking at the teacher locking up his class who only stared at Wednesday and the figure of a girl in interest.
Threw the halls, and go to the school gym. Where the resident asswhole jocks were having swim practice.
What a bunch of white pussys.
As they walked up the steps (or in) the jocks noticed and stopped in their speedos.
"Dalton look pigsleys sister."
This 'Dalton' turned in the water eyes shining as he opened his mouth and said, "Hey freak, this is a closed practice."
Which for a reason unknown to Twyla- they all found funny.
The shadow gave Wednesday the bags and stayed put in the dark where she could only be.
"the only person who gets to torture my brother is my family."
Raising the bags of deadly piranhas. Holding them up. Letting them realize. Letting the horror sink into their bones while Twyla watched with a shiny smirk in the shadows.
They all started to share yells as they attempted to swim to shore. When Wednesday finally let the bag go.
It broke once it reached the water.
Approximately twenty fish let loose in a pool full of people. Reaching Dalton last.
Blood staining the pretty teal the pool had once been.
And a delightful scream. Along with a haunting smirk.
Solidifying Twyla and her sisters' fate.
At boarding school...
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Thanks for reading! Any comments are appreciated and if y'all have any ideas for the story or thoughts I am not opposed to hearing them :)
Also note that at any given point of the series Twyla will always be wearing black gloves unless it's mentioned she's not.
Twyla's face claim is Cindy Kimberly. She is who will show up in all my gifs and who is on the cover of the story on wattpad, though you all may imagine her as you wish.
Taglist: @itscheybaby
Part one:
#wednesday addams#wednesday imagine#wednesday 2022#xavier x you#xavier thrope fanfic#xavier thrope imagine#the addams family#wednesday netflix#morticia addams#gomez addams#gomez and morticia#pugsley addams#jenna ortega#cindy kimberly#percy hynes white#six of crows#austin butler#kaz brekker#nina zenik#austin butler elvis#elvis movie#inej supremacy#switched at birth#elvis presley#freddy carter
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The End is Never the End
Chapter 1: Don't Do It
Stanley Suddenly Falls ill, and the following events shake both the narrator and Stanley's fabric of reality. Nothing is what it seems now.
A/N: This is one of my first ever fanfictions, and it was inspired by a role play so I apologize if the quality is lacking in any way. I'll be posting sporadically as inspiration comes at random. Chapters will be uploaded to AO3 first. (Link on my blog) Sorry if there are any grammatical issues. Thank you for reading!
TW: Illness, Car Violence, Blacking Out, Canon Typical Bullying, Emotional Distress, Angst With A Happy Ending
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-All of his coworkers were gone, what could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had missed a memo,” The narrator’s voice rang out, making Stanley merely sigh in response.
Stanley stumbled into the meeting room, a dull ache pressuring his skull as he struggled to keep his heavy legs from failing on him. His motivation was simply not there today. He sauntered onwards, trying to keep his lingering discomfort in check. Stanley stopped in his tracks when he noticed the door to the meeting room seemed…distinctly different. It was metal and had “EXIT” in neon red letters bored at the top.
“As Stanley looked around the meeting room, he couldn’t find anyone at all! As he looked for his co-workers, he noticed a flashing light at the end of a door marked “EXIT”
Stanley hesitated; this was new. The narrator rarely included new content such as this. He held his hand over the handle, as a few coughs ripped through his throat, making him wince in response to the burning pain he felt. He zoned out for a few moments, staring at the neon red “EXIT” at the top. The dull ache at the back of his head strengthened as he strained his eyes. He snapped himself out of his trance, shaking his head. I may as well…
“Stanley put his hand on the handle, he opened the door and stepped outside-”
Stanley stepped out onto the street in front of him, it looked like a quiet neighborhood. He noticed a bright, blinding light heading toward him. He blinked, and-
“-And was immediately hit by a car” The narrator stated jovially.
Stanley gasped hoarsely as he opened his eyes, looking around at the familiar office as he realized it restarted. He took a few deep breaths and glared up at the ceiling, tears blurring his vision. Usually, he had a high tolerance for the narrator's shenanigans, even taking a small hint of humor in it, but today was simply not his day. He coughed a few more times with greater harshness, rubbing his neck in a soothing way to ease away the pain. What the hell?
Stanley fell back into his office chair, his body insurmountably heavy. He took a deep, uneven breath, and gestured weakly with his hand, searching his mind for words. He did not like talking, words were such a fickle thing for him. It always made him feel uncomfortable, the thought of someone hearing his voice, knowing what he was really thinking. It was an even greater struggle with the flickering light of the computer infecting his vision, making his already pounding headache worse. He leaned back in the chair, spinning it away to avoid the monitor's glare. He closed his eyes, trying to rub away the aching pressure in his skull. His hands were clammy against his skin as if he were running a fever.
Finally, he sighed languidly, “Look I…I feel under the weather today. I don’t want to do the story.” his voice was wavering, like he was about to cry.
There was a silence in the air for a few moments before he heard the narrator's voice mumbling, unsure if he was talking to himself or Stanley. “Under the weather…” The narrator began, “Under the weather indeed, perhaps Stanley just needed a break. Yes, a break is what you need” The narrator cleared his throat ceremonially, “Stanley, you should head back home and rest…” He sounded almost apologetic, and a quiet hung in the air once more.
Stanley's vision danced with orbs moving in and out of his point of view. When nothing more was said, he gradually forced himself out of his chair, grunting in discomfort as his legs shook from the strain of forcing himself up. He held onto the wall with one hand, and made his way down the hallways, grabbing onto the door frames for support as he entered from one hall to another. His mind was growing fainter and more distant.
He heard the remote sounds of paper shuffling, the narrator's voice growing further as he heard him mumbling to himself feverishly. “No…no that’s not right…but how…?”
He couldn’t care about what he was saying at this point, the only fixture of focus with which his mind could process was laying down somewhere. He did not know where he was, his brain too foggy to tell or even remember where on the map his house was supposed to be. He leaned against the cool wall, his breathing shaky as he slid to the floor. His mind felt like a ball of cotton, but he knew the one thing he needed.
“Help…?”
For a moment, Stanley could hear the narrator's frantic footsteps and his heavy breathing. The sounds drifted away as he started sliding out of consciousness.
“No, no, no Stanley! Don’t sleep! Don't you do it! Don’t-” The narrator's voice faded into darkness, and so did Stanley’s senses.
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Chapter 2: A Cruel Joke https://www.tumblr.com/lemonboi390/723245659991539712/the-end-is-never-the-end?source=share
#the stanley parable#sickfic#Fluff#angst with a happy ending#the narrator x stanley#plot#Mystery#car violence#anxiety attack#existential crisis#the bucket is a therapist ig#autophobia#humanized narrator#multiple part series#separation anxiety#fanfic#tsp stanley#tsp narrator#bucket
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hey i would love to see what characters you pair me with. i haven't really been in the fandom or considered who i would work with best for awhile so i'm curious to see if it's changed since i was younger.
okay so my name is leo, im sixteen, im a junior in highschool. i identify as a gender-fluid gay guy (i like men and use he/him pronouns). i have golden-reddish (it's a strange color) hair down to my chest although i want to get it cut/get layers in it soon. i have green eyes. i wear glasses that are thick-rimmed and nerdy. i have naturally long eyelashes. i have a very square jaw and pale skin. i have random dark freckles on my arms here and there. im 5'6. my style is literally all over the place but usually im either in sweatpants and a sweatshirt (either a purple rhett and link one or a beige on with different colored pickles on it) or a graphic tee shirt, jeans, and a denim or leather jacket.
personality wise well i like to think of myself as a pretty creative person. i try to find meaning in the mundane in my life. im not religious although i do enjoy tarot and crystals. i have always had a problem with building myself around other people. ill get addicted to certain friends to fill a void in me that thinks people need to save me/fix me. this doesn't work because it leads me to be very codependent and when people leave me (which they can! it's natural. nothing lasts forever) it totally messes up my self esteem. so im trying to build that self love and develop better relationships with other people.
i like art and writing, fall out boy, the outsiders, good mythical morning. i like learning about LGBTQ history, especially the aids crisis. im currently reading a book on it right now called "and the band played on." my favorite foods is shells with cheese. i like good friends and people that i can connect with on a deeper level. i like when people i talk to have lives that don't revolve around me. i also enjoy surrealist sculpture. i really enjoy felix gonzalez-torres's work. i like all sorts of different types of music. lately ive been very into folk, 80s new wave, and 2000s pop punk/emo.
i dislike terfs and transphobes and homophobes and things like that. i absolutely loathe loud chewers. i have a mental disorder called misophonia and so the sounds of chewing trigger me and trigger my fight or flight. it's absolutely horrible. i hate stupid people. i don't like peanut butter. i hate when people make aids jokes. i hate not feeling included or hated. i care a lot about my image and i hate when it looks bad.
i like to make art and write poetry. i listen to a lot of music, even though i can't make any. for art, i like working with graphite pencil and colored pencil the most, but i work with all different things in class. im in advanced arts classes at school. i auditioned when i was in middle school and now im gonna take ap art next year. for poetry, i usually write in free verse about personal things. i have a livejournal i post on sometimes. i run a poetry/art magazine club at my school where people can share things they've made.
i think that covers pretty much everything! sorry for how insanely long this is. i hope that sums up myself pretty well. i try to be myself. just yourself be if weird is you.
i think i’d match you with dallas! i’m a firm believer that dally has a very soft side so i think he’d love to both our little braids in your hair and to draw on your arms. he would love if you drew him. i could imagine you sitting on dally’s bed in bucks place while he’s leaning out the window smoking a cigarette. then you’d start making little sketches of him. once he notices he’d start flexing his muscles and posing n stuff.
there you have it hope it’s alright!
#the outsiders matchup#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#sodapop curtis#johnny cade#steve randle#two-bit mathews
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Denise’s transformation story
New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/denises-transformation-story/
Denise’s transformation story
Transformation of the Day: Denise shared her fitness transformation story with us. Her journey began in 2018 and now she’s a Womens Wellness Coach helping women navigate Menopause. Check out how she changed her eating habits and her workout routine.
Social Media:
Instagram: @dnyce_fitness
www.dnycefitness.co.uk
I’m a 56-year-old mother of one. By day, I work as an IT Consultant. I also run a Women’s Wellness PT business, specialising in Menopause and tackling the issues around going through this transition.
What was your motivation? What inspired you to keep going, even when you wanted to give up?
From a very young age, I had asthma and still have it. My illness is my motivation, as well as running alongside that my daughter. We only have one life, and today is not a dress rehearsal. We need to live and battle through any adversity. I hope I’m showing her that.
So, with that said, I’ve always been into fitness of some sort – From martial arts and holding a 2nd Dan to being Ms. cardio queen. Then I discovered weightlifting. I noticed that my body composition was changing because of weight lifting.
How did you change your eating habits?
I started to change from eating ‘dirty’ to eating ‘clean’. So, I began to look at what I ate and knew that processed foods were not the answer. I had a lot of bloat, I was tired, and I just looked flabby! I wanted my curves to be in the right places.
I changed to clean eating after meeting my now coach, Tracy Eden Larby (Iron Ladies). I’m on a macro diet where I focus on very high protein, carbs, low fat, and plenty of water. I still eat chocolate and fried chicken once in a while. I was never a fizzy drinks fan or juice drinker, so that transition was easy for me.
What is your workout routine?
I go to the gym, focusing on my legs one day and my my upper body the next, with cardio twice a week.
My plan is progressive overload and time under tension, which leads to muscle growth. I’m very conscious of my sleep. I find it hard to sleep, so my nighttime routine is early. I’m in bed by 10 pm, up at 5:10 am, and in the gym by 6 am.
How often did you work out?
I work out six times a week for 50 mins – so that’s 4 days in the gym and 2 doing cardio (rowing and elevated walking).
What was your starting weight? What is your current weight?
Starting weight – 55kg (more body fat)
Current weight – 59.9kg (increased muscle, less fat)
What is your height?
I’m 5 ft, 2 inches tall.
When did you start your journey?
I started in 2018.
How long did your transformation take?
It took one year. When I started, I slipped my disc and was unable to train for six months. All I did during that time was stretch for 30 mins a day.
What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far?
80% food and 20% gym. What makes the difference is what you eat. You have one body, and you have to treat her well.
What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight?
Just do it! if you have no idea get a trainer and have a plan. You don’t want to go to the gym and not achieve your goals because you don’t know what to do or eat. A trainer will help you do that whether you want to train at home or in the gym. They can be in-person or online, as long as they are knowledgeable and accustomed to training women, hormones, peri-menopause our cycle etc
Is weight loss surgery part of your journey?
No, it isn’t.
Note: I’m hosting a FREE 7 DAY Fitness Challenge to start the ultimate love-filled transformation. Ladies, it’s time to countdown to a Valentine-Ready You. Earn those romantic nights out and tackle those hidden calories right here. Learn How to Count Calories, Lose weight, Receive a Meal Plan, and much more!
Disclaimer: Reference or link to any specific product, weight loss plan, exercise/fitness plan or service mentioned in the weight loss stories we share is for the information of our readers, and does not constitute an endorsement or recommendation by Black Women Losing Weight.
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2024: Week Two
Yes, this is a day late, but it’s been quite the week so I hope you’ll understand.
Work
I had a really, really good week at work. I tore through my task list and made great progress on some important podcast and YouTube work. Plus some lovely client projects and interest from potential new clients.
I’m super excited about an upcoming collaboration with another psychologist. We’re going to co-host a podcast series all about psychological flexibility and how to develop it. Lots of work still to do, but I’m confident we’re going to have a great product at the end of it all. We did our first video podcast together a while back and we both agreed we worked well together.
I published my second Vlog on my work YouTube channel. It’s very much an experiment, but I can already see ways to improve the next one and keep improving as the weeks go by.
Wellbeing
As per my previous post, I had some bad news on the wellbeing front. This is almost certainly going to lead to some hospital time, so intrusive tests, and then long term medication. If I’m lucky.
Despite this, I stuck to my new healthy habits. I’ve maintained Dry January (it’s just too easy!), avoided junk food and snacks, and made it to the gym and went out for a run on Sunday. I could so easily have rationalised a few beers and burgers to ‘cheer me up’ after speaking with the doctor. But I didn’t. Frankly, that’s the kind of crap that my body really doesn’t need right now.
I’ve veered between doom and gloom and a sense of optimism that I’m finally getting some medical attention. It’s fine to have doubts, it’s fine to feel some anxiety about it all. But it’s what I actually do that matters.
Travel
To take my mind off my wellbeing worries, I spent some more time planning my upcoming trip to Tokyo. In just over a month, I’ll be flying there with JAL and, for the first time ever, I’ll be experiencing their First Class cabin. I have no doubt it’s going to be amazing. But once I’m there, I want to extract as much fun out of the visit as possible. So my list of venues and experiences is getting longer by the day.
I just hope I’m able to make some progress on the wellbeing front so that illness doesn’t hamper my enjoyment of this amazing holiday. Or that it conflicts with a hospital stay…
In other news
I’ve continued to experiment with NotePlan and I think it’s going to stick. You can think of it as a kind of digital bullet journal. Each day as a note, but there are weekly, monthly, quarterly and annual notes too. You can have notes, tasks, reminders, events… pretty much anything you want to help you feel organised and avoid relying on your memory.
You can easily make links between notes (like in Obsidian and other PKM apps), but unlike Obsidian, the iOS apps actually work and synching is flawless. This is so important for me - I want to be able to access my project notes and plans from my iPhone and iPad when I’m on the move.
I’ve been using it to make a weekly note that contains my must-do tasks and activities. I fill this every Sunday for the week ahead. Then the following Sunday, I review the week with my reflections on how things have been.
I’m toying with the idea of starting a new travel blog. I love writing and I have some great trips lined up for this year. I’d like a fresh start and, based on some posts I’ve read about Substack in the last week, I’m looking at Ghost as one option. If you’re a Ghost user, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
I’m writing this from my study at home, as I’m working here this morning. I’m starting module two of my Japanese language course this afternoon, and it didn’t make sense to go to the office then all the way back into the West End for my lesson.
And that….was the week that was.
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Learning to Breathe
(aka Please Remember To Put On Your Oxygen Mask Before Assisting Others)
Characters: Rukia, Renji, Byakuya, and some Fourth Division OCs, (RenRuki)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, some Angst, some Humor, Family
Rated: T (for mentions of medical tools such as needles and depictions of anxiety, but nothing is graphic or even really overly described. This story is more about the emotions than the medical drama)
Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana (Bloodlines AU), Post TYBW, Post renruki engagement)
Click the link to read below or click here to read the story on AO3!
(4/7)
Chapter 3: Stormy Weather
AO3 chapter
Chapter Summary: Attention passengers, we appear to be entering into a storm. Please calmly return to your seats as you may experience some “light” turbulence. (The chapter in which Rukia’s and Renji’s day goes from bad to worse.)
“Crap…” Rukia grumbled, as the booming thunder interrupted them. Her and Renji had only been able to enjoy each other’s company for a few minutes before the trickle of rain outside their carriage window threatened to become a downpour. Rukia sighed in frustration.
”I guess we better head in, huh?” Renji chuckled good naturedly, as he slowly sat up, loosening his hold around her waist.
“Yeah, I guess so…” Rukia supposedly agreed, but she had yet to loosen her grip on him. Renji chuckled as he leaned back down and gave her one last quick kiss.
“Trust me,” he murmured as he nuzzled her, “I’d rather stay out here with you too.” As they got out of the carriage, the sky finally broke, and the rain began coming down in sheets.
“You would think,” Renji shouted over the booming thunder, as they made a run for the entrance, “that with all we packed, we would have remembered a freaking umbrella!”
“Perhaps you think too highly of us,” Rukia shouted back, as she quickly held her bag over head to try and block out some of the rain, “because I definitely remember us forgetting last time too!”
“Well, at least we’re consistent!!!”
Fortunately, the two didn’t have to run far to reach the Fourth Division’s covered entrance. Sighing in relief, they entered the building and headed towards registration. There, they picked up their medical packet, and then weaved their way through the building’s tricky hallways, before finally making it to the waiting room. They waited there for about an hour, Rukia reading and Renji doing paperwork, when a man dressed in a Fourth Division’s tech's uniform entered the room.
“Welcome to the Fourth Division’s Thirteenth Relief Team Building, which doubles as the Hospital Center and testing facility,” greeted the monotone voice. Rukia, looking up from her book, half wondered how he managed to say such a mouthful of a phrase so perfectly every time. “My name is Watanabe Haruo,” the tech continued, “and I will be the tech performing your tests today.”
“Oh, um, nice to meet you, sir!” Rukia replied, suddenly remembering her manners. Renji, looking up from his paperwork, responded similarly.
“Can I have your full name and date of birth, death, or Seireitei entry so that we can double check our records?” he asked. Rukia gave them to him.
“Okay, everything looks correct,” Tech Watanabe said as he flipped through his paperwork, “Now, once again, the Fourth Division’s Thirteenth Relief Team would like to thank you for your patience today. We are still waiting on the nurse to be free, but we can start you on some basic measurements, like your height and weight, and some basic tests, starting with your electrocardiogram, or EKG. Now if you would just follow me…”
“Oh, is that a long test? Should I bring my stuff with me?” Rukia asked a little nervously as she got up and returned her book to her bag. Renji started to put his paperwork away.
“Hm? No,” the tech replied, looking up from his clipboard, “This will only take a few minutes. You can leave your items with…?”
“Sixth Division Vice Captain Abarai Renji, sir!” Renji barked and saluted, but then with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows added, “But more importantly, Fiance Abarai Renji.” Rukia snorted, and immediately looked away to hide her now rather pink face.
“Right. Anyway, feel free to leave your items here with…him. We’ll be done pretty soon.” Rukia nodded and put her bag on the end table next to Renji. He looked up at her with concern in his eyes.
“Hey, are you sure you don’t need me to come with?” He whispered to her, “I can you know?”
Rukia took a deep breath, and turned back towards the tech, “Sir, does this test require needles?”
The tech raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head at the question, “No, it uses stickers. Although Captain Kurotsuchi is developing a new method that-”
“Thank you, sir!” Rukia loudly interrupted, before turning her head back towards Renji. “I think I can conquer a couple of stickers, don’t you?” She smirked. Renji sighed.
“Alright, well, I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I know,” she replied softly, “See you soon.” Then she followed the tech out of the room.
__________________________________
"H-How did it go?!" Renji asked quickly the very second Rukia returned.
"Great!" she replied as she strutted into the room, "It was real easy. They just stuck these weird stickers to my chest with wires attached to them and measured like my heart or something. I passed that test with flying colors, an A+ for sure!!!" She gave Renji an enthusiastic thumbs up. Renji sighed in relief before looking up at her amused.
"Who are you, Chad? And I don't think that's how those tests work, Rukia."
"You don't know, they could!"
"Uh huh.” He turned to look at the tech who had reentered the room behind her.
“They don't,” Tech Watanabe said.
"You're no fun," Rukia sniffed.
At that, Watanabe just shrugged, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard, "I've been accused of worse, I used to work at the Twelfth,” They both stared at him, but he continued without elaborating, “Anyway, the nurse will be with us shortly. While we are waiting, we may as well put in an RIT.”
As soon as he said the acronym, Rukia felt her body automatically go cold and stiff.
“An RIT?” she asked shortly.
“Yes. It stands for Reishi Injection Tool,” the tech replied as he continued to flip through his paperwork, “They are like IVs but for your reiatsu veins.”
“Yes. I’m aware. But why do I need it? I-I thought these tests didn’t require needles.” Out of the corner of her eye, Rukia spotted Renji putting away his paperwork and standing up.
“The EKG did not, but the Reiatsu Stress Test does," the tech went on, "Since you have Chronic Reiatsu Vent Stenosis, the reiatsu vents on your wrists will continue to shrink making it more and more difficult for them to filter out any foreign reishi you encounter. Once they close completely, your compressed, unfiltered reiatsu will slowly build within you, burning you from the inside out, and eventually resulting in your expiration," he replied while finally looking up from his clipboard. Rukia and Renji gawked at him. While they had heard all of this before, they had never heard it told quite so…bluntly.
“S-So I've heard,” She managed to get out. Rukia felt Renji put his hand in hers. She took a deep breath.
"Obviously we don't want all of that to happen,” Tech Watanabe went on, upon seeing their obvious distress, “but the solution requires surgery and is just above experimental. As in just above Captain Kurotsuchi levels of experimental. That alone can be very stressful on your body."
"I imagine…" Renji muttered under his breath.
"This can cause your reiatsu to spike in response," he explained, "and since you are already in a precarious state, we need to know that your body can handle this stress for the length of the surgery,” he finally finished. He looked between them, and gave them an exasperated look, “Didn’t they tell you that you were taking a stress test today?”
“Well, yes, but…they didn’t go into quite so much detail,” Rukia muttered.
The tech tapped his chin, “Oh, really? That's unfortunate.”
That’s one way to put it! “So…what does the stress test involve exactly?” she asked instead.
“We give you medication through an RIT. The medicine increases your Reiatsu flow to simulate the same amount of stress your body may experience during surgery. Then we measure the effects on your body.”
“I…I see.” Rukia felt Renji squeeze her hand. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him looking at her anxiously. Rukia mentally shook herself. “Okay. B-But just so you know, I have very bad veins. The only consistent location is a reiatsu vein on my neck.” Rukia rubbed the right side of her neck for emphasis, “So that’s where you should go.”
To say the tech looked concerned, was a bit of an understatement. “In your neck? Is that really the only location? Can they not get it in either of your arms?”
“Nope, only in my neck. My right arm is used for my other treatments and can’t be used for anything else. I have battle scars on my left arm which makes it difficult to stick,” Rukia said as she showed the tech the scars that normally hid beneath her battle gloves, “And that doesn’t even consider the number this illness and its treatments have done to my reiatsu veins. The condensed spiritual pressure has caused a lot of them to collapse. So, yeah, neck it is,” she finished with what she hoped was a casual-looking shrug. She certainly didn't feel casual…
“I see…” the tech said slowly, “Unfortunately, I am not qualified for that. I’ll go talk to the nurse about it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left.
“Well…at least he listened and didn’t try to stick me anyway,” Rukia responded quietly.
“Yeah…” Renji agreed. He let go of her hand as they slowly made their way back to their seats, but he continued to watch her. Rukia had begun absentmindedly rubbing her neck while looking off into space. “Are ya worried?”
“Huh? Oh no! I’m…fine!”
“Ru, it’s okay,” he said as he gently removed her hand from her neck and held it, lacing her fingers with his own. He gave it a squeeze, before continuing, “I know you don’t like needles.”
“I’m fine, Renji! It’s just one bad poke and then it will be over, right? Besides, I got a rather chonky vein in my neck that works every time, remember? I just wish I wasn’t cursed with such puny arm veins…”
“They’re not puny, they are just small and cute, like you!” Renji teased affectionately.
“Hey!!!”
“What?” he smirked, “I called you cute!”
“Uh huh, yeah, that was the problem,” Rukia said, rolling her eyes at him. She looked around the room, “How long do you think we’ll have to wait for the nurse?”
“Hard to say… How much of that manga do you got left?” Renji asked. He let go of Rukia’s hand so that she could flip through her book to check the page count. It was a rather large volume, but she had been reading for about an hour already.
“I’m about halfway through,” Rukia confirmed as she found her spot in the book again. She looked over at the stack of papers laying on the end table next to Renji, “How about you? Want any help with your paperwork? I can’t believe Niisama gave that to you on top of sending you here.”
“He didn’t send me, I volunteered first, remember? Besides, I don’t mind doing paperwork, it helps…” But he trailed off before finishing. Renji shook himself, quickly picked up his pen, and refocused back on the paper he’d been working on. “In any case, I’m almost done. No more than an hour at most. So don’t worry about it. Go ahead and finish your manga, and if you finish before me, I’ll stop and we can find something else to do together.”
“Or I could help you finish…” Rukia countered, but at that Renji looked visibly pained.
“It will be fine,” he said while not looking up, “You’ve got enough on your plate as is. There won’t be much left once you are done with your book, and I can always do it later.” Rukia glared at him, frustrated, but then visibly brightened..
“Tell you what…" she began slyly, "Why don’t we make it a race? If I finish before you, I will help you out with your paperwork. If you finish before me, then you get to read out the ending of my manga aloud to me.” Renji shot her a disbelieving look.
“Rukia, that is the opposite of how it’s supposed to work. If you win, you are supposed to get a prize, not more work!”
“Oh Ho Ho! But it is a prize! If I win, and help you out with your paperwork, you will have to explain to your subordinates why there are little bunnies in the margins and “Great Job” stickers at the top of every page,” She smirked, and leaned forwards to whisper mischievously, “Even, the really, really bad ones.” Renji rolled his eyes at her.
“Psh…You don’t have any on you…” Rukia pulled out a sticker sheet from her bag. Renji cursed, “Okay fine! But how is reading your manga a prize for me?”
“Because, I’ll let you…” Rukia sighed heavily, “I’ll let you do it using your storyteller voice.” At that, the corners of Renji’s lips curled, and he got a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Heh heh heh, I do have some awfully good character voices. Especially for the high pitched ones…”
“Those are your worst!” Rukia cringed.
“Well then, I guess you better start reading faster!” Renji smirked as he suddenly doubled his writing speed. He quickly got to the end of the page, reshuffled his paperwork, and started on the next one. Rukia felt like she should have been irritated at how amused Renji was at the idea of annoying her with his silly voices, but he just looked so happy.
“Psh…Dork,” she whispered with a small smile, as she began reading again. Maybe I will let him win this time. Maybe.
#bleach#renruki#fanfiction#renji abarai#rukia kuchiki#byakuya kuchiki#post tybw#learning to breathe#L2B#bloodlines au#hurt/comfort#some angst#some humor#family
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Open when...Chapter 6
AO3 Link FF Link
Summary:
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
When a few years into their relationship Bernie is asked to go back to the army and deploy Serena isn't sure how she's going to get through the nine months without her girlfriend. What she doesn't expect is for it to be her girlfriend who has the perfect set of surprises to get her through both the best and the worst days. Canon divergent - Elinor lives (well actually the accident never happens), Raf lives, and Cameron isn't a total ass! The staff of AAU also probably didn't all work on there at the same time in canon but do in this! The fic is already fully written with the first few chapters having already been Beta'd. 27 chapters including the epilogue. Hoping to post every Monday and Friday!
Open when you are being driven crazy by Elinor…
She bangs her head against the desk, loud enough that it’s probably audible to Elinor on the other end of the phone, though that may not be a bad thing right now. She’s told Elinor five times already that she is at work and that no, she CANNOT drive up to Brighton to pick her up because she’s had a falling out with the friends she’s gone away for the weekend with.
“No, Elinor, I’m working right now and tomorrow, and actually for the next three days. Unfortunately, despite being your mother, I can not drop everything just for you. I have a hospital ward to run, and I don’t think losing my job because I’ve left work to come and pick you up would look too good. What about your father? Can’t he come and get you?”
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because she gets an earful from her daughter about never mentioning her dad to her again because his new wife is SO much more important than his daughter is. And as much as Serena hates to say it, she agrees with Edward on this one. Not that Elinor should come in second to yet another new love interest of his, but that Elinor needs to fend for herself and learn that the world can’t just drop everything when it suits you. If the world did that, she’d have Bernie here right now. The ward is crazy and Raf is on holiday and Morven and Jasmine are ill so she’s been left with a bunch of F1s who, despite having the initial five years of med school training under their belt, still have so much to learn and still need so much of Serena’s support and expertise. The only saving grace is that Dom has come down from Keller to lend a helping hand.
And just as she’s thinking of Dom, he’s there knocking on the door, “I’m sorry, Miss Campbell, but we have an emergency being brought in in the next ten minutes, just wanted to give you the heads up.” She nods her acknowledgement at Dom before returning her attention to Elinor.
“Look, Elinor, I’ve got to go, I’ve got an emergency coming in at work. Looks like you are going to have to find a way to sort out your differences with your friends. I love you, and I’ll speak to you once you’re home.”
Serena doesn’t give Elinor a chance to reply before she hangs up the phone down with a sigh. She really does try with Elinor but sometimes she can’t help but blame Edward for raising her to be so spoiled.
She goes into surgery still stressing about the situation with Elinor, glad that she is able to do the liver repair surgery with ease. She lets Dom do a lot of the work, knowing that getting to work on a few trauma surgeries will do him some good professionally too. She doesn’t get back into the office until much later that evening. When she does, she picks up her phone to move it off some paperwork she needs to complete before she can call it a day only to realise there are fifteen missed calls and even more text messages from her delightful daughter.
She scans them quickly, none of them too polite, all blaming her for every problem the two of them have ever had, telling her she always cares about work more than she does Elinor. She sighs and throws her phone on the desk, not bothering to reply to the childishness.
She loves Elinor dearly but sometimes she drives her crazy.
It’s then that she remembers seeing an envelope from Bernie holding exactly the same words. She’s got paperwork to do, but heaven knows she’s not going to get it done while she’s feeling like this, so taking time to read a letter from Bernie isn’t going to hurt.
Serena – Open when you are being driven crazy by Elinor…
My Dearest Serena,
Take a breath! We all know how crazy Elinor can make you, but stop, pause and just give yourself a second. Yes, she drives you crazy, but you love her and you wouldn’t have her any other way. And sorry to say it, but she got some of her fierceness from you.
I don’t know what she has done or is doing to drive you crazy but just take a step back and think. Remember how much you value your relationship with her, how much you love being able to go and watch her performances. Remember all the good times you’ve had with her and remind yourself why you wouldn’t have her any other way.
Better? Good, now go and speak to her or call her or text her or do whatever it is you need to make her realise how much you care about her. This is time for the two of you now so I’m going to say I Love You and I miss you, and let you go.
All My Love, Bernie,
Your Big Macho Army Medic x
Serena is so thankful for Bernie at this moment. She knows how hard Bernie finds it not really having a relationship with her own daughter, but she always supports Serena’s relationship with Elinor. She will do anything to make sure Serena knows why it’s so important to maintain her relationship with Elinor. Serena takes a breath and picks up her phone from the desk, composing a new message to her daughter.
Elinor, despite what you might think I do love you and care about you. Unfortunately, you are a 22-year-old college student and I can’t just drop everything to come and pick you up, no matter how much I want to be there to support you. Part of adult life is working through disagreements so unfortunately you are going to have to do that this time. Once again, I do love you, message me once you’re home and we'll arrange a girly day out.
And if, when they go out for their girly day, Elinor inquires about how Serena is doing without Bernie and if Bernie is okay, she will totally take that as progress.
#Open When#Berena#Bernie Wolfe#Buckle Fandom#Holby#Holby City#berena fanfic#madam wakefield writes#serena campbell#Berena fanfiction#Berena FF#Holby FF#Holby Fanfic#Holby Fanfiction#Holby City FF#Holby City Fanfic#Holby City Fanfiction
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Content Client
Title: Top 5 Ways To Stay Healthy Post-Retirement
Subtitle: Post-Retirement Health Checklist | Integrity
Body:
When preparing for retirement, it is easy to get caught up on the monetary side of things. The inevitable questions will run through your mind like, “will I have enough savings” or “will I outlive my retirement funds {internal link 08-013}?” And while it would be irresponsible to slack on your financial preparation, there is much more to retirement than just money. Sure you want to enjoy your post-work years comfortably, but that means that you are as comfortable in your body and mind as you are relaxing on that white sand beach. As you reach your golden years, it is a sign that you are aging. Half of Americans retire between the age of 61 and 65, according to data from the LIMRA Secure Retirement Institute. And with age, comes the increased risk of deteriorating health. While issues like Osteoporosis and Alzheimer's may already be on your radar, there are many other risk factors that come with age.
To make sure that you get the most out of retirement and stay healthy throughout your golden years, follow these 5 tips:
Build Bridges
One of the best ways to keep yourself engaged as you age is to stay connected to your community. Whether you choose to volunteer, join a book club, or find some other community club that aligns with your interests, staying connected to others will help you stay connected to yourself. Making and maintaining meaningful relationships with others is an important part of your overall wellbeing.
Focus on Fitness
Exercise is an important part of your health at any age. Being physically fit goes far beyond looking good in your bathing suit. Think of physical fitness as your preventative multivitamin. You take your dose daily as a way to stave off illness and keep your mind and body working properly. Your body craves healthy movement just as much as it craves nourishing nutrients.
According to the Centers for Disease Control, if you are 65 or older and fairly healthy and fit, you should get two hours and thirty minutes of moderate intensity aerobic activity per week (or 75 minutes of vigorous aerobic activity), and you should also do muscle training twice per week. If you are new to working out, be sure to talk to your doctor first to find a plan that is both effective and healthy.
Expand Your Horizons
You may have heard the old adage that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. But that has been debunked time and time again. As you age, not only can you learn new things, it is important that you do. The brain can be expanded and stretched as long as you continue to work at it. Take classes at the community college, read interesting books, talk to people who challenge your beliefs. Continue to do things that allow you to grow and learn.
Manage Chronic Conditions
If you know of any chronic health conditions that you currently have or are predisposed to, do your best to get them managed early. Not only will this allow you to live a more vibrant life, it will also help show insurance companies that you are taking the most effective steps to prevent worsening conditions.
Ensure Medical Coverage
Once you retire, you will likely lose the medical coverage that you once depended on from your employer. Don’t wait to figure out what your next step is. Make sure that you have medical coverage lined up so you won’t have any gaps in your coverage. Life has a tricky way of sneaking up on you when you are uninsured. Medicare Advantage Plans {internal link} can help to cover the cost of prescription drugs, which many people overlook. And don’t forget to keep up on all annual exams, including dental and vision {internal link} which can begin to deteriorate with age.
Meta: Follow these five tips that go beyond finances to ensure that you stay happy and healthy once you retire.
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