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bratz-kitten · 3 years

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS [part 5]

— people with jupiter in the 8th may experience an “abundance” of traumatic experiences throughout life, often relating to death; these are the people who truly feel like everyone they love ends up dying. at their worst, they can become desensitized to death— jupiter is ruled by sagittarius, a sign known for being in denial when in difficult situations in favor of optimism. these natives can pretend like nothing actually happened, or minimize the situation in their head so that they don’t have to face it.

— okay this might be a weird one... like, you know in asoiaf when arya was walking through the streets and was always like “i’m as quiet as a shadow”? that’s literally the energy of someone with planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house. these people are so stealthy. they’re able to move so quietly and without anyone noticing, both literally and figuratively. on one hand, they’re very quiet about their plans and ambitions to the point where other people only find out when they’re achieving success over it; on the other hand, they just. don’t like making noise while walking idk bitch you’ll only see me coming when i’m right beside you, i even get paranoid that i’m breathing too loud and that other people will hear

— people with moon aspecting mars can be incredibly impulsive when they feel hurt or triggered. yall need to be careful with doing things in the heat of the moment that you know you’ll regret later... but in the moment, you feel so hurt that it clouds your rational side. please be more self-aware about this because you may make decisions that will directly affect you for the worse in the future

— people with leo mars ft. constantly asking you for pictures... about anything. they just wanna SEE LMFAO THEY DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS THEY’RE SEEING. you just got ready to go out? “send pics of your makeup and your full outfit”. you’re waiting in a long boring line to get the covid vaccine? “send pics of the line”. your mom baked cake? “send pics of the cake”. plus they send so many random pictures while texting, it’s their special love language

— having moon conjunct moon/venus in synastry feels insane. you tell them something you’ve been through, and they’re immediately like “that happened with me as well.” it doesn’t even have to be something grand, sometimes just very specific things you thought were particular about you. the amount of understanding that comes with this aspect in synastry can feel very new and intense especially if you’re used to seeing yourself as the “odd one out”, used to feeling isolated in your experiences

— people with pluto in the 1st house often feel the need to erase “traces” of their existence, for example deleting messages that they sent people, deleting all of their social media posts. they can feel anxious and paranoid about other people having access to their past self, even if the past self in question is from, like. a week ago

— people with chiron in the water houses (4th/8th/12th) might’ve suffered bullying to the point where they repress their memories. a lot of their memories of their school years may feel foggy if they were bullied in those years

— also. people with chiron in the 8th house may feel as though they’ve been punished for wanting to experience intimacy. it’s like, the people who were supposed to be the closest to them – for example, their sibling or something – were the ones who hurt them the most.

— people with mercury-neptune aspects and strong pisces/neptune energy in their birth chart might struggle with only remembering things when they’re right in front of them. you should keep things in your peripheral vision to remind you of reality, especially when it comes to feelings— so that you won’t start getting lost inside your own head. like... keep the letters your friends wrote you by your bedside table so you can read them every time your brain starts convincing you that you’re not loved. keep the gifts you’ve been sent on display in your bedroom wall, or sentimental material things that remind you of past happy experiences.

— earth placements and their thing for asmr... omfg. it’s like they’re always looking for things to up their sensory experience/sensitivity. like, earth signs are the ones most connected to worldly experiences so they feel so soothed with the whole asmr experience: just hearing someone gently whispering or tapping on/scratching things calms them down and helps them fall asleep. they love the tingles it’s heaven for them

— moon-saturn aspects might hold and caress themselves while they sleep because their parents never did. yes i woke up and chose violence <3 your secret is NOT safe with me 💋

— while we’re on the topic of sleeping, a majority of the pisces moons i know need to sleep while hugging something, at least a pillow. they can’t just not hug something while they sleep, it’s very instinctive for them. anyways if any pisces moon needs a pillow to hold, i volunteer as tribute 💋

— virgo placements feel sososo soothed by hearing their cats purr. thinking about how my virgo placement friends are always the ones who send me videos of them petting their cats... and then i get soothed by how soothed they feel. it’s a win win situation, if you have virgo placements it’s hereby your duty to send me a video of you petting your cat while they purr. right now. GO

— people with gemini in the 3rd house might have shaky movements of the hands when other people look at them doing things. very specific i know but the third house rules hands and gemini is a sign that has somewhat of an anxious, twitchy quality to it. on the other hand, people with capricorn in the 3rd house (scorpio risings, using whole signs) have the steadiest hands i’ve ever seen lol their movements ooze confidence, these bitches know how to make you feel as thought they know exactly what they’re doing

— people with venus in the 1st house ft. altering their pics with photoshop and hating posting selfies without filters because they never feel like their appearance is good enough. stop it. you don’t need to always look your best and especially not if your ‘best’ isn’t even what you actually look like. also... don’t even think about making self-deprecative jokes about your appearance. next time i find one of yall saying “ahaha im not bad for a 5 without talent” i’m squishing your head between 2 pieces of toast and calling you an idiot sandwich. you’re BEAUTIFUL

— having venus in the 3rd house in composite with someone? do you mean calling each other the absolute ugliest nicknames in the most endearing way?

— leo deals with themes of the ego, and it seems that leo placements often struggle with attracting narcissistic people into their life... leo suns/mercuries can be raised by loud, overbearing, narcissistic parents who see their kid as an extension of themselves and who teach the kid to always be very supportive and caring towards them or else they’ll deny them of words of affirmation-- either by insulting them to shatter their self-esteem or simply never complimenting the kid back. leo moons/mars/venus tend to attract narcissistic partners who only care about serving their own emotional needs and ignore the ones of their partner, and who feed off of their supportive and giving nature. which is why leo placements really need to watch out for being gullible, naïve and dismissing the red flags because my god, you be falling for some shady people.

— people with personal planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house might feel like they can’t let go of their past life— they may dream of memories, people or places from another life. it’s like they can’t detach from it, and even if they can’t directly remember their past life, it’s like they feel it in their bones. also, they might’ve felt... estranged from their family ever since childhood; there may have been feelings of being unable to emotionally connect to their (often, distant) parents, and they might’ve even wondered if they were adopted because of how different they felt to the rest of the family.

— okay so, a thing that people with saturn in the 3rd house need to look out for is mentally checking out of conversations while they’re still happening. these people can detect when they’re being manipulated really fast and their way of dealing with it can be to immediately shut down, to grow cold and silent and not even bother answering when you’re expected to respond. and, like, that’s great when someone starts screaming at you or being insulting/trying to coerce you into shit, but take notice if you find yourself shutting your loved ones out as soon as they say anything that triggers you. don’t simply detach from them, communicate what’s wrong

— aries placements, ESPECIALLY aries suns and moons, value generosity so much and they get so turned off by stingy ppl who don’t share with others, especially when others need it. like.. if you’re hanging out in a group with them and someone asks for a bite of your food because they have no money and you say no... espect them to never respect you. ever.

— people with libra placements use soooo many adjectives to describe things. something can’t just be beautiful, it has to be DIVINE and CELESTIAL and INTOXICATING. they can be so expressive god it’s so fcking funny

— capricorn placements HATE asking others for advice because they think no one knows better than them (and they’re not wrong, lol). when they truly care for someone, they might ask the person for advice simply as a sign that they respect, trust and value their judgement. even if they don’t plan on taking it LMFAO

— people with mars in a water sign can have this terrible habit of expecting other people to guess what they want. and then they get passive agressive when you don’t instinctively feel what it is they want... and when you ask them “do you want this?”, they go like “FINALLY. i thought you’d never get there”. stop it. i know that you want people to understand you in a way that transcends words, but you can’t expect people to read your mind and then get disappointed when they don’t, thinking “oh if they loved me that much then they would’ve known that i really want chipotle for dinner :(” GIRL WHAT. COMMUNICATE YOUR NEEDS

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

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Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

“Karl.”

“Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

“Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

“You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

“Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

“You sure about that?” You quip back.

“You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

“Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

“Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

“No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

“You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

“Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

“Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

“Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

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Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,835 Words

Summary: Off to a chaotic start, I see. Bakugou gets dared to start a 1-A group chat. The beginnings, Shinsou gains a father figure, and the bakusquad is chaotic.

Warnings: Dead Body Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Anxiety Attack Mention, Caps, Mental Breakdown Mention, Fire Mention, Choking Mention, Injury Mention, Murder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Shigaraki's alias in the group chat is Ren and Dabi's alias is Haruhi. ¥11,055 is about $100 and ¥110,550 is about $1,000 on the day I wrote this.

Usernames: Area 51 Ashido: aggressive chicken dance, Kaminari: pikachoo, Kirishima: ordained, Jirou: neko neko kneecaps, Sero: wine and cheerios, Bakugou: mother i crave violence, Shinsou: its a mental breakdown

Usernames: Emo Sanctuary Jirou: tell tale heart, Tokoyami: eldritch peep, Todoroki: i love you 3000, Bakugou: knife tag, Midoriya: bitchasaurus, Shinsou: unhappy meal, Kuroiro: meth and deadamine, Shigaraki: depresso extra shot, Dabi: *sad kazoo*

Into The Group Chat We Go: Chapter 1

1:45 AM

Emo Sanctuary

i love you 3000: I require attention.

unhappy meal: is that so?

i love you 3000: Yes, it is, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.

unhappy meal: @bitchasaurus, your man is sad.

bitchasaurus: He's not my man, Shinsou. Pretty sure he's no one's man, actually. And it's not like I'd have time for a relationship anyway.

i love you 3000: True. I'm not in a relationship.

unhappy meal: regardless, get your friend. the man wants attention.

bitchasaurus and i love you 3000 are now offline

*sad kazoo*: I dare someone to start a group chat with 1a and say something weird.

knife tag: Would I get paid for this?

*sad kazoo*: I'll give you anywhere from 11,05 yen to 110,550 yen.

knife tag: Deal.

2:00 AM

Bakugou has started a group chat

Bakugou has added Hanta, Mina, Eijiro, Denki, and 15 others to the chat

Bakugou has renamed the group chat to Area 51

Bakugou: His body is ready to be taxidermied. It's what Shinsou would've wanted.

Sero: What the fucketh?

Aoyama: Quoi?

Midoriya is now online

Midoriya: You didn't add Shinsou, you ass.

Bakugou: Oops, fuck.

Bakugou has added Shinsou to Area 51

Shinsou: hi I guess.

Aoyama: So your corpse is not being stuffed by Bakugou at the moment?

Shinsou: I mean, he can always taxidermy me while I'm alive. it's not like I'd stop him.

Midoriya: He's not. Kacchan was dared with cash to start this group chat and say something weird. Goodnight, filthy heathens.

Midoriya is now offline

Ojiro: Wow, Midoriya isn't messing around.

Aoyama: I feel ✨insulted✨ being called a filthy heathen.

Ojiro: I mean, it is an insult, Aoyama.

Aoyama: Yes, Ojiro, I understood that.

Sero: Why on earth are you two awake?

Ojiro: Because I can't sleep?

Aoyama: I got hungry.

Sero: Well, go to bed.

2:15 AM

Emo Sanctuary

knife tag: It's done.

knife tag: chatscreenshot.jpg

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to knife tag

*sad kazoo*: Your money's pending to whatever card is attached to your number.

knife tag: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

eldritch peep: wow, you really sent him 11,055 yen?

knife tag: This man's out here fueling my savings since UA instituted the no job rule since the dorms went into effect.

unhappy meal: they instituted a no job rule!? that's why I got that paper!? I thought that was a joke!

*sad kazoo*: Better put in a two weeks, kid.

unhappy meal: I literally can't. if I don't work, I don't have a way of feeding myself!

*sad kazoo*: Can't you ask your parents to send you food money, Toshi?

unhappy meal: okay, Haruhi, I know you weren't here when we started this chat with just me, Katsuki, Shouto, and Izuku so you don't know but I literally don't have parents, man. I lived in an orphanage until the beginning of the school year and, after I got in, I began renting an apartment near the school so I could attend. which means I'll lose my apartment where my cat and dog stay and it has all my stuff in it too.

tell tale heart: He's having an anxiety attack, someone go get him. I don't know where his room is.

meth and deadamine: I'll check on him.

knife tag: On my way.

eldritch peep: I'm coming, hold on.

*sad kazoo*: I've finally become a father at 28. I knew this shit would happen eventually.

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to unhappy meal

*sad kazoo*: That's your monthly allowance. Do whatever you want, kid.

unhappy meal: I'm gonna cry.

unhappy meal: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

meth and deadmine: You got 110,550 yen!? Haruhi out here paying kids to exist.

*sad kazoo*: That sounds weird, don't say that. I'm here because I'm Ren's best friend and Ren is Izuku's brother. I've effectively adopted both Katsuki and Hitoshi, I'm not sending random kids money for no reason, they're my sons.

eldritch peep: Ignore him, Kuroiro likes making things sound weird. How does it feel to be a father, Haruhi?

*sad kazoo*: Fatherhood? Guess that means I need to shape up and be a dad, huh?

eldritch peep: Step the fuck up, Haruhi.

*sad kazoo*: I am, I am. Toshi, kid, don't cry or whatever, everything's gonna be fine.

unhappy meal: thanks, dad.

*sad kazoo*: My heart hurts. Why does it hurt? What the fuck is this feeling?

knife tag: It's called pride. It's because you're happy.

*sad kazoo*: This child is mine now, I'm going to find a way to legally adopt you.

unhappy meal: that would actually be really cool if you did.

*sad kazoo*: Looks like I'm re-evaluating my life tonight so I can make it hospitable for a son. I'm gonna go see if I can figure out how to fix some shit. Night, kids.

knife tag: hitoshicryingabouthavingadadnow.vid

Transcript Begin

"Hito, it's okay." -eldritch peep

"I have a dad now, Fumi." -unhappy meal

"We know, Shinsou." -meth and deadamine

"I have a dad." -unhappy meal

"Time to sleep, Toshi." -knife tag

"Okay. Time to sleep." -unhappy meal

Transcript End

*sad kazoo*: I love my son. Take care of him.

8:25 AM

Area 51

Ashido: ALERT- MY ALARMS DIDN'T GO OFF, PLEASE STALL AIZAWA FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES

this message has been marked as an emergency

Shinsou: On it.

8:40 AM

Area 51

Ashido: What'd you do to distract him, Shinsou?

Shinsou: Oh, gave myself an anxiety attack.

Ashido: SHINSOU!

Shinsou: It was an emergency! You'd be in detention right now if I hadn't. plus I had one last night too so it wasn't hard to do.

Ashido: Shinsou, don't ever do that for me again but thank you. You're getting big bakusquad hugs at lunch.

Shinsou: It's not like it was difficult. I got lots to break down about.

Ashido: Me too, bitch.

4:00 PM

Area 51

Shinsou has changed their name to its a mental breakdown

Ashido: Oh my god, Shinsou.

its a mental breakdown: I figured while I'm at it.

Ashido: Speaking of at it.

Ashido has changed Kaminari's name to pikachoo

Ashido has changed Jirou's name to neko neko kneecaps

Ashido has changed Sero's name to wine and cheerios

Ashido has changed Bakugou's name to mother i crave violence

Ashido has changed their name to aggressive chicken dance

Kirishima: Could you not think of one for me?

aggressive chicken dance: More like can't decide.

Kirishima has changed their name to ordained

pikachoo: You're ordained, Kiri?

ordained: Yeah. I got ordained for my moms' wedding in a few months.

pikachoo: So cool, dude.

ordained: Oh, Shinsou, dude, you said you had an anxiety attack last night, you good, man?

its a mental breakdown: one sec.

4:05 PM

Emo Sanctuary

unhappy meal: can I talk about it, Zuku?

bitchasaurus: Yeah, why not? Because it involves Ren? It's not a big deal, Hitoshi!

unhappy meal: just making sure, some people don't like their personal lives talked about by other people.

bitchasaurus: I don't mind, Hitoshi.

4:09 PM

Area 51

its a mental breakdown: alright. so we had a chat from right after the sports festival with just me, Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki which became an emo chatroom when we added Tokoyami, Jirou, and Kuroiro.

its a mental breakdown: And then Midoriya got in contact with his older brother, Ren and added him and Ren's best friend Haruhi to the chat because he wanted to show off Ren but Ren didn't feel comfortable talking without Haruhi lurking in the chat.

its a mental breakdown: you guys probably don't know but I was an orphan from a really really young age because my parents died when I was young and my other family members didn't want me. and at the beginning of this year, when I got into UA, I moved out of the orphanage, got an apartment close to campus and all, I'd had a job for two years prior.

its a mental breakdown: and last night, Haruhi gave Bakugou 11,055 yen as a dare to start this chat. then Bakugou and Haruhi were talking about the no-job rule because of the dorms and I'd thought it was a joke when I got the paper so I didn't have anything saved up and I don't exactly have parents I can ask for money if I need to buy food and I'm definitely not asking my friends and bothering them.

its a mental breakdown: I mean, I have enough I could coast for a month or two without pay but I feel like Aizawa would kill me for not eating right.

its a mental breakdown: anyway, I had my anxiety attack, Haruhi sent me money, Kuroiro made a sentence creepy like always, and Haruhi called me and Bakugou his sons. him, Jirou and Tokoyami joked about him being a dad for a bit and then he actually told me when I went back online that he wanted to legally adopt me.

mother i crave violence: Thus why I didn't wake up Pinky this morning. I was busy in the Gen Ed dorms with my new brother.

its a mental breakdown: I will have another breakdown, don't tempt me.

ordained: Shinsou, man, that's so awesome! You have a dad! We should have a party for Shinsou getting a dad!

its a mental breakdown: if it makes you guys happy then go for it but if you go crazy with the party again. we already had the incident on my birthday, we're not having another.

Asui: What incident, kero?

its a mental breakdown: Kirishima's hair got set on fire at some point, Sero got tangled onto the railing of my balcony and was hanging from my fifth floor apartment's balcony railing, Mina choked on a piece of burnt tofu, Kaminari slipped in the bathroom and fell into the full bathtub where he then electrocuted himself, Bakugou got his face shoved into the cake and sat in the corner pouting while my cat Ume and dog Anzu tried to eat the cake off his face for the rest of the night, Jirou got lost inside my apartment building, and I hit my head on the counter and had a concussion for a week.

Hagakure: Why is your friend group so chaotic?

mother i crave violence: I like to think I've cultivated a well-functioning group of chaotic demons. At least if one of us is doing something dumb, usually the rest will either follow or do something dumb of their own.

neko neko kneecaps: I'd like to plead innocent as well as shift majority blame to Midoriya's friend group because I just know those idiots could and would collectively kill and hide a body and nobody would ever know it was them.

Midoriya: Bold of you to assume we haven't already.

neko neko kneecaps: Yeah, hi, mom, pick me up, I'm afraid of Midoriya again.

Midoriya: You can run, Jirou, but you can't hide.

neko neko kneecaps: You can't kill me, Bakugou would be sad!

Midoriya: You may live...for now.

neko neko kneecaps: Oh, thank the gods.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka

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kanri-tea · 3 years

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De-aged Jakurai

Jakurai gets de-aged via illegal mic.

You were born and raised in the darkness of the underworld. Death nipped at your heels even from an early age and you learned quickly to never be surprised.

Unfortunately, there are some things you cannot predict, and this is one of them. In front of you are two men, a blonde, sparkly looking man, and a red-haired, tired man.

“Sensei?!”

“Aaaaghh! How could this even happen?!”

You tilt your head. They aren’t familiar and they certainly don’t look like your handlers, but looks can be deceiving, so you stay silent, unsure.

“Is- is that a knife?!”

They’ve caught sight of your blades and they start screeching and yelling even more. It makes your head hurt. You want to leave, but you don’t know if they’re your handlers, but also, you thought you were on a break.

Turning heel, you walk away from them. They’re probably not your problem, and frankly, while you don’t know how you got there, you should most definitely be returning to base.

“Oh my god,” Hifumi hears Doppo mutter again. Which is kind of mean, it’s not like they purposely lost Sensei. They had looked away for, like, a second and poof! He was gone! How rude!

“Oh my god.”

“Doppo~! C’mon, enough sulking! We have to find Sensei before something bad happens!”

“Hi-fu-mi. We lost Sensei. We lost a child version of Sensei!”

Hifumi shrugged. Well, yes, they did, but no use crying over spilled milk, right?

“I doubt Sensei has gone too far, he’s tiny right now,” he chirps, glancing around the horizon for any hints of where Sensei could have gone.

“Aaaaggh. Why did we have to run into one of your stupid self-proclaimed rivals! Of course, they had to have an illegal mic!”

Okay, now Doppo was really being unfair, Hifumi thought, pouting, it wasn’t like he was actively making enemies. It wasn’t his fault his kittens loved him so much more than those brutes.

“C’mon, Doppochi, let’s go find Sensei! I think I saw him go this way!”

Hifumi started dragging Doppo along the path, ignoring the spluttering and heavy feeling in his stomach. The child version of Sensei was like 10, plus it’s Sensei. He wouldn’t stir up toomuch trouble… right?

“Uhhh…”

This was not what Ichiro had expected to see today. What was supposed to happen was him going to work and then going home to take care of his cute little brothers, a very typical and normal day.

Ichiro most definitely did not expect to see what seemed to be the child of his former teammate.

“Hey,” Ichiro started, rubbing the back of head. This was super awkward.

The kid stared back at him with wide, flat blue eyes.

“Uh, are your parents around?”

“I do not understand.”

Okay, this was new.

“Y’know,” Ichiro said, kneeling down, “Your dad or your mom. Shouldn’t you be with them? Not… not here in a dingy alleyway.”

The kid blinks, “I do not know where my progenitors are. I do not have memories of them.”

Okay, now the kid was just being difficult. What the heck did that even mean?

“Okay… What’s your name, kiddo? I’m Ichiro.”

“I am called Jakurai,” the kid replies and while its not exactly an uncommon name, what are the chances of a little kid that looks almost exactly like Sensei and having the same name?

Right on cue, his phone buzzes. It buzzes multiple times, actually, but more importantly, keeping his grip on the may-or-may-not-be-a-de-aged-Jinguji-Jakurai, there’s a message from Izanami.

Opening the message, Ichiro fights back a groan. Of course Matenro had to run into an illegal microphone, and of course Sensei had to be de-aged.

“Well, Se- I mean, Jakurai, I guess we’re stuck with each other for now,” Ichiro felt a migraine building.

The child version of Sensei stares back at him. Well, at least he’s not screaming or anything, plus he’s kind of a cute kid, Ichiro thinks, and begins leading the kid back to Yorozuya Yamada.

You don’t know why you let this boy drag you around. He’s so painfully civilian, it almost physically hurts you. Almost.

He takes you to his home and treats you like a child. You don’t understand. You are not a child; you are a weapon.

He even gives you a popsicle. You don’t really know how to react to this, so you take it. It’s sweet.

Ichiro seems to be calling people. An informant, you think, and the familiar label lets you relax a little bit.

You glance around the house. It looks more like an office than a house, but you since there are two floors, you assume the residents live on the second floor. Either way, even the office looks lived in. There are pictures of two other children with similar facial features to Ichiro, whom you assume are his siblings, and there are random items strewn about.

It feels warm. Like love, you think, but you don’t know what love is.

You glance back at Ichiro. He’s not facing you, and your blades feel heavy. You think about how easy it would be to kill him, how vulnerable he is. You don’t want to though, but if your handler tells you to, you know you must.

You know you wouldn’t want to kill Ichiro though.

You know you don’t want to kill at all.

It takes them nearly two hours to finally reach the Yamada residence in Ikebukuro.

Two hours way too long, Doppo hysterically thinks. Hifumi, as much as Doppo loved him, was a disaster and a half, from being distracted by the smallest of things and then being too terrified to move because of a couple of women, the trip had been a long one.

Greeting them at the door is the second member of the Buster Bros, Jiro, and the flat look that he gives them really does not help his nerves.

Did something happen?

“C’mon, your creepy kid leader is in the office,” Doppo hears Jiro mutter, and he pushes down on the instinctive feeling to apologize. This isn’t the time to fall victim to your shitty self-esteem, he thinks to himself.

“So,” Ichiro tells them, “It’s only supposed to last, like, a day or something. He’ll return back to normal on his own.”

It’s relieving to hear that, Doppo thinks, and beside him, he can tell that Hifumi thinks the same even without having to glance over.

In another room, along with Yamada Saburo, sensei is listening to the other boy ramble with blank eyes. There’s no movement or twitching coming from the child, nothing like how his brother was like when they were younger and had to sit still for any period of time.

Doppo would’ve attributed it as sensei’s nature, but there’s something unnatural about the stillness, something off about the younger Jinguji Jakurai’s perfect posture.

He can’t put his finger on it, but it unnerves him and from the looks of it, everyone else, even the youngest Yamada, has picked up on that. They don’t question it though.

It doesn’t take long afterwards to collect sensei and to return to their apartment. The child doesn’t question it, just follows them blankly and quietly.

It really is unnerving.

The siblings interact with you, but you quickly realize that you scare them. That you unnerve them.

Maybe it’s because they’ve realized that you aren’t human, something whispers in his mind, but he brushes it off. They are civilian and pose no danger to him.

The sparkly man and the tired man show up again. You’re not sure why.

Where they your handlers?

The youngest child, Saburo, tries to distract you while Ichiro talks to the sparkly man and the tired man. It doesn’t work, and you eavesdrop on their discussion.

De-aging. You don’t know what that means, and it makes you feel uneasy. A test, maybe? To prove his worth to his possible handlers?

You don’t know, and the uneasiness grows as you follow them to their safehouse. It warm and cozy and well-lived in, unlike most safehouses you’ve stayed at. It feels very off-protocol, but what do you know, you are a weapon.

They feed you and it isn’t poisoned for once.

They lead you to a room and they tell you to sleep.

You don’t understand.

Maybe, you think, things will make sense when you wake up. When you wake, there will be assignments to do, targets to kill. You are a weapon after all, not a child, not a human.

You fall asleep warm and comfortable for the first time that you could ever remember.

“Sensei!”

“Good morning.”

There is sunlight shining on his face in a way that doesn’t in his own home, and instinctively, Jakurai wakes up tense. It only takes a couple more seconds, however, to realize that not only is he not in his own apartment, but that he was also in Doppo and Hifumi’s apartment.

Why?

The last thing he could remember was a rap battle, and an… illegal… microphone.

Oh. Something had hit him, but Jakurai couldn’t figure out what.

It doesn’t take long before Hifumi starts spilling about the previous day, Doppo interjecting at times, about his child self, about the illegal microphone, and about the Yamadas.

You thank them for looking out for you and make a mental note to thank Ichiro as well. You dodge the questioning stares that appear when they start talking about your child self’s demeanor.

By the time you leave, unpleasant memories are drudged up and regret spills into your thoughts.

You aren’t a weapon anymore.

You don’t have to kill anymore.

You won’t kill anymore.

Your purpose now is to serve humanity, to save people. To be a better person.

What once was will never be again, not if Jakurai had any say or control over it. Jinguji Jakurai is the saintly doctor of Shinjuku. It will be the one thing no one can ever take from him, not Amemura, not the Chuuoku, not Hitoya.

But you know you will never be any less deadly.

You have sworn to never dirty your hands with lives again.

#hypnosis mic #jinguji jakurai #buster bros #matenrou #de-aged jakurai #child jakurai

21 notes · View notes

psycholojosh · 3 years

Text

Road to RPsy: A master's student's guide for Filipino psychology graduates in making a career headway in the Philippines - Part 1

Let's paint this picture for a moment...

You get into your psychology program (or any other program) in a Filipino college or university. You study hard. And then, you achieve your well-deserved bachelor's degree. While you shake hands and celebrate for about a month (just as you should), you sooner realize and ask, "Now what?" Then, you ponder on how to get your career in clinical psychology started. Possibly, you got anxious, confused, or maybe even determined.

If this is (or was) you, don't worry! You're perfectly okay. Trust me, I've been there before... and we shouldn't feel ashamed for this.

Which is why I'd like to take this time to write about my personal and professional experiences as a college graduate of psychology in the Philippines, and how I managed to craft my own headway into getting clinical training and graduate studies for clinical psychology. I sincerely hope that this little article would help a fellow psychology graduate craft their own headway into clinical psychology (or any other field of the sort). I'd also like to share some tips from my past and present mentors, colleagues, coworkers, and professors that I find useful to take note of.

I separated this into a series of articles to keep reading concise and organized. For this part, I start off with discussing...

What psychology careers in the Philippines looks like

How goals can be set in order to get an RPsy; and

Selecting the postgraduate school or program for you

Keep reading to find out more!

Key Points (TL;DR)

There are many myths and misconceptions that narrow one's view about psychology and its careers; but there are actually a lot of opportunities.

Keep yourself open to opportunities, be it for training or career, that will help propel you to snatching an RPsy license.

Clinical experience is key. But, do not discount non-clinical experiences as well.

Practice 'SMART' (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and time-bound) goal setting for your career.

Choosing a school is dependent on your preferred training, scholastic interests, career goals, personal motivations, and (financial) resources.

Before I begin...

I'd like to first disclose what my biases and limits are, and what potentially could be a matter that you, dear reader, should consider before taking any advice from me. So, here's a little bit about myself...

Firstly, I am a young adult and pretty much novice to the field of psychology. I have gone through two years (and counting) of clinical experience as a licensed psychometrician. I do not declare myself an expert yet, nor do I pride myself as the most reliable person in the field of psychology. This article is written purely in my personal perspective and experiences. That said, I will do my best to offer you up-to-date information and objectivity that may support or criticize my views.

Secondly, I come from a very middle-class family. My parents made just about enough for us to pay the bills, to feed, clothe, and shelter us, and to give us a decent education. I firmly think this disclosure is very important since not everyone has the same privileges in terms of education, opportunity, and resources. There are some career decisions that I have made or experienced because I had the capacity to make them so despite certain critical tradeoffs (like, getting less pay). As of writing, I would say that our status is still the same, even if I make my own profit with my college degree. I will do my best to be considerate about the differing backgrounds among people, especially when it comes to privilege offered by social class.

Lastly, I'd like to emphasize that my word is not gospel and should not be taken easily by those who seek importance or utility to what I will share. The tone I will use will be very personal - as this is my personal blog. Plus, I will be largely biased towards clinical psychology, as it is the field I am in. You may find that some pieces of advice will resonate more with you than others. Conversely, you might find that some pieces of advice may be unhelpful for you. Hence, I welcome any criticism to my personal views and open myself to a healthy discussion. (Feel free to reach me through my Ask page here on my blog.) I highly encourage you, dear reader, to look for more opinions from more seasoned professionals in the field.

Now, on to the article...

The current scene of psychology careers in the Philippines

As I was graduating, it was important for me to look for information about careers in psychology in the country. After all, as you will see later, getting an idea of psychology's zeitgiest (a term used by historians to refer to the salient "mood" or "spirit" of ideas or beliefs of, say, an academic field) this country will inform you in your career goal setting and considering options that will lead you to where you want to be.

Psychology in the Philippines has a lot of stereotypes, myths, and misconceptions brought about by pop psychology spread across the masses. Here are some of the popular ones (and my personal favorites) which you may have already heard from people around you:

"Sa HR mapupunta ang isang Psych grad." ("Psych grads end up in HR [work].")

"Psych ka? Magme-med/Maglo-law ka ba?" ("You study Psych? Are you pursuing med/law?")

"Wala naman masyadong pera/future sa Psych." ("There's no money/future in Psych.")

"Psych? So yung mga baliw yung trabaho mo?" ("Psych? So you work on crazy people?")

And there's plenty more where that came from. Funnily enough, my college friends and I used to do a game where we take a shot of liquor for each myth said to us. (Drink responsibly, kids!) But, as psychology graduates, we know that these aren't completely true.

Now, let's take a look at how we can argue in psychology's defense and dignity and accept what the common person has gotten correctly.

Psychology practice in the Philippines

It's important to note that the term 'psychologist' or 'psychology practitioner' has different meanings in various contexts. Often, we think about psychologists as those who does therapy and plays around with psychological instruments. While this is somewhat true, a more academic language would refer to a 'psychologist' or 'practitioner' as someone who earned their degree in psychology - regardless of specialty - and has built their career in praxis of psychology. As I go along in this section, I'll refer to the 'psychologist' as the latter definition.

Clinical and counselling. In a 2004 article by Cristina Montiel and Lota Teh published in the International Handbook of Psychology, the authors enumerated on and expounded the most popular fields and specializations that psychology practitioners work in. Clinical or counselling practitioners lead in this list, often delving into psychotherapy, interventions, and assessment in various settings -- of which I have had experience on. I think this appears to be only partially true today, which I'll explain in a bit. You would find most practitioners doing their clinical practice in private clinics, hospitals, and schools. It's important to note, however, that most practitioners of this subfield have postgraduate degrees, and - since the year 2014, when Republic Act No. 10029 was enacted - a board license from Philippine Professional Regulation Commission (PRC). These licensed professionals have the names: 'RPsy' for psychologists.

However, bachelor's degree holders were also permitted to practice with their own little license: an 'RPm' or 'registered psychometrician' - which I have. These licensed professionals, get to practice assessment and several other supportive clinical functions - but not psychotherapy. The catch? You legally and ethically need to be supervised by a licensed psychologist. I'd like to get into the nitty-gritty differences and nuances of these two licenses, but I'll save that for another article. In the meantime, you must understand that these two have disparities in terms of their education attainment, clinical skills, and professional autonomy.

During my oath-taking ceremony as a psychometrician in 2018, Dr. Regina Hechanova-Alampay, a known Filipina in the fields of industrial-organizational and community psychology (and the mom of one of my dear friends), stated in her keynote address that the approximate ratio of each RPsy to each Filipino citizen is 1 to 100,000. A 2018 study has pointed this approximation to be accurate. Similarly, my former clinical supervisor approximated that the ratio of RPsy supervisors to RPm supervisees is 1 to 2,000. These numbers are quite a lot! Needless to say, there is a shortage of supply of clinical practitioners for the demand and a large influx of RPm's that have less clinical autonomy. And with an ever-growing relevance and awareness to the field of mental health in the country, these numbers are concerning. But -- hold on. If there are a lot of RPm's being produced yearly, where do they go?

Industrial-organizational and human resources. Montiel and Teh accounted that the second most abundant field in the country is in industrial-organizational (I/O) psychology or human resources (HR). This is where I think most psychology graduates usually end up in after college these days. Daresay, this is the fastest way to earn money as a fresh college graduate. But does that mean that the stereotype is necessarily true? It really depends on the way an employer values the employee and how much one is capable of doing a job. Sometimes, you get paid more, just right, or less.

I/O psychologists or HR practitioners often deal in corporate or organizational settings, often concerned with their person-related matters. They have skills like recruiting talent or labor, assessing worker needs, evaluating individual performances, or developing workers of a company - just to name a few. Do they need a license like an RPsy or RPm? Not necessarily.

You would often find job postings for HR positions that would often "prefer" a psychology graduate with a license, but sometimes "require" it. Therein lies some grey areas about how the professional licenses' stipulations are interpreted. But, let's not get into that just yet. But in my opinion, if people saw the utility of getting a license (which has its own financial costs of acquiring) as a way to improve compensation or marketability in the workforce, then they should get it.

Not all industrial-organizational psychologists, however, delve into the office hours and paper works. Some others go into research - particularly on topics like employee behaviors, group dynamics, and so on. It's important to think that these types of practitioners are just as versatile as other subfields in psychology.

Academia and other niches of psychology. As per Montiel and Teh, another large chunk of practitioners often end up in the academe. They become educators in various levels, researchers, or expert consultants depending on their interest, skill, and reputation. For example, developmental psychologists (or those who specialize in child psychology) get hired in preschools or alternative modes of learning. It was also mentioned briefly that social psychologists often find themselves in the social development sector, like the National Economic Development Agency (NEDA) or the Department for Social Welfare and Development (DSWD). Other common settings for psychology graduates to work in includes government facilities and the military, where their knowledge about human behavior are often found useful.

Research skills are also found useful in areas like market research and analytics. Because psychology graduates have knowledge about fundamentals of statistics and psychological measurement, a lot of these businesses employ their help in order to understand their target market's consumer behaviors and make informed decisions to increase profit. Other information about making a career in business can come be read in a lot of psychoeducational websites, like in Verywell Mind.

Overall, there is a plethora of careers a psychology graduate can delve into, especially for a fresh graduate like yourself. Over time, you would find that certain subfields would resonate more with you than others. You may often wonder which one - or a combination of more - would lead you to your career or personal ambitions. Now that you know how vast a career in psychology can be, it's a matter of choice and planning ahead, which leads me to the next section.

Goal-setting: Which road to take and what to expect

Eyeing the precious RPsy license won't be an easy task. Then again, would the hardships matter if it's worth it anyway? It's important for you, dear reader, to think about how you want to get to that goal.

Should one want to take a straightforward path, she or he would have taken their master's or doctorate studies in clinical or counselling psychology for the following three to five years (with coursework, practicum, and perhaps thesis or dissertation), then take the board exam from the PRC. I have a couple of friends who have done so, and it works for them.

However, for the likes of many of us - myself included - we may not have the same luxury of time or resources to afford us this direct route. Because of many personal needs (ahem-- financial), we may need to find a way to secure these as we go along our road to the RPsy. And how could I forget the costs of postgraduate studies alone? Which is why we'll need to earn or find income.

The best job or experience that can afford you a good head start in clinical psychology is the one closest to it. As my former supervisor, Paula, once said, "Clinical experience is key." For example, you can find psychometricians assisting with psychological assessments in various settings. Others delved into social or community work -- sometimes as a volunteer. The likelihood for one to get accepted in clinical or counselling training programs, like a postgraduate degree or certification training, is increased when one has had a hand on a similar line of work. But this is not to say that any other job is unimportant -- no. There's growing research on the various applications of mental health practice on non-clinical settings, like schools, offices, and even micro-communities. The possibilities are actually numerous. That said, I cannot guarantee how abundant these opportunities are.

There are a few things to consider when looking for a job or a source of income:

In terms of career, what are your yes's, maybe's, and no's? Make individual lists of the occupations you can say these three answers to.

How soon are you planning to achieve an RPsy license? As soon as the next four years? Or, maybe you want to take it slow and say ten?

What job and/or study opportunities are available to you at the moment? How comfortable will the setup be for you?

How much resources and time are available to you for work, study, and personal matters? Which of these do you prioritize more?

How much are you willing or do you need to be compensated to afford such a lifestyle?

As you formulate answers to these questions (especially, the last two), keep in mind that a more effective goal setting follows a 'SMART' process. That is: it is specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and time-bound. (More info about this process right here.) Patterning our goals to these dimensions helps us look at ourselves objectively and find an integrated way to live our lives productively.

In my personal experience, after graduating college, I took a two month break to enjoy the fruits of my hard-earned college degree with a "vacation" (which mostly staying home, if I'm being honest). In my mind, I knew that getting a master's degree is a must for me; a ladderized doctorate program was also amenable but I wanted to get that training abroad. But, I wanted to make myself more immersed in the field before I can enter a graduate program. I applied to different jobs - a psychological services consultant (which I primarily wanted), a personal development teacher in senior high, and a research analyst. Luckily, I got the job that I wanted and reaped clinical experience. (I'll write more about my first experiences in the clinic in another post.) A year later, I applied and got into the clinical program of the University of the Philippines. And now, I've been taking coursework on clinical psychology while working as a research associate of a particular office in the same university.

I understand, however, that not everybody could find the "perfect" balance or ideal solution to all of these concerns. In fact, I don't think anyone can -- unless you were blessed with such a life. Why? This is where I reflectively talk about my privilege (as I did at the beginning). Awareness of your own opportunities makes us think fully or subconsciously about our own status in the social system. Whether we like it or not, it affects many of the career - and more broadly, life - decisions depending on where we stand in our lives. Which is why I advocate for practicality. We may not always select the ideal -- but the principle of survival is important, especially in an underdeveloped country like the Philippines. As Montiel and Teh pointed out, poverty and economics have affected psychology practice and it opportunities in the country.

Can goals or plans change? Short answer is 'yes'. There are many reasons why our plans change. It may be because we find ourselves being presented by new or better opportunities. Or perhaps, we discover more personal insights and realizations about the career we want and how to get it. Life can be complex to influence our decisions within or without our control. Whatever the reason is, it is important for one to be able to evaluate one's strengths and weaknesses, limits and boundaries, and our emotions and motivation to keep us going.

Choosing your school: Which one should I go to?

It's very common for a psychology graduate to ask: Where should I get my clinical training? Again, this is dependent on your resources, time, and preferences. Coupled with these is the opportunities (or as Bandura would put it - chance encounters and fortuitous events).

Locally, there are about 60% of schools that offer master's degrees in clinical or counselling psychology as per Commission of Higher Education (CHED). A fewer percentage offers Ph.D. or doctorate equivalent degrees in clinical or counselling psychology, the three most famous being (as per Montiel and Teh): the Ateneo de Manila University, the University of the Philippines, and University of Santo Tomas. However, there is a growing number of urban and rural schools that offer postgraduate studies and attract local aspirants to enroll in their programs. At the top of my mind, St. Louis' University in Baguio City has been regarded as one of the best in developmental psychology (currently considered as a viable alternative to clinical psychology). Likewise, the De La Salle University in Manila, a member of the colloquially regarded "Big Four Universities," is gaining traction for their clinical program very recently.

Focusing on a school's reputation is not enough, however. What, us, clinical psychology hopefuls often look over is the training itself. Circling back to my guide questions on goal setting, preferences often come into play when deciding your training. For most, who prefer a general track in clinical psychology, many schools offer a flexible education to ensure you get the wide knowledge of the field, without undermining the core or essentials. Others may teach clinical psychology in a more specific way, favoring practical experiences like internships over theorizing in the classroom. Factors like faculty composition and expertise, paradigm, and school culture often influence how these training programs are developed. What I find helpful to attain this information is to ask these departments and institutions directly. Another approach is asking a friend taking up a program in that school. No harm in inquiry! Ask away.

Of course, like what I have also emphasized in this article, is the sensitive yet important issue of money. To be specific, your tuition. Clinical training in the Philippines ranges from ₱10,000 to ₱50,000.00 a year. The trend (as I've observed from applying in different schools) is that the more privatized and more "complex" the education, the higher the cost. Public schools often come cheaper than private schools. Consider your capacities for funding your education (including where it comes from) and weigh it with your preferences to make an optimal choice of school or program.

A popular notion among graduate students, or those heading into graduate school, is that public schools, like where I study, often take longer to finish a master's degree than others. Well, there are many factors to this. One is faculty size, for example. How many qualified teachers does the school have that supplies a smooth progression for a graduate student to complete their degrees? Another factor - which many often forget to attribute as well - is the student's motivation. It is not uncommon for a graduate student to fluctuate in wanting to accomplish their degrees. It really depends on how determined one is to see things through (which takes a lot of doing, if I do say so myself).

Overall, choosing a school is much less of an issue when it comes to time, but more so when it comes to practicality. In my opinion, any school that gives you basic competencies, regardless of reputation, is enough. In fact, most of my supervisors did not even settle for their graduate training alone. The field of clinical psychology (much like the other fields) is ever changing and adapting to the times. You often find a lot of trainings, seminars, and specialization programs that practitioners study or enroll in order to keep their practice up to date and ethical. Learning and personal growth, especially as clinicians, should not stop after we receive our degrees and licenses. Again, this calls back to the point of keeping an open eye and open mind on the opportunities that come our way.

Now that we discussed the first three tips, I plan to take a break here and let you, dear reader, reflect on things that will help you make your headway to that RPsy license. Do more reading. Ask questions. Seek answers. And explore yourself and the world to get a better sense of the pathway ahead.

I do hope that this discussion helps! See you on the next one.

#psychology graduates #psychometrician #psychologist #RPm #RPsy #filipino psychology #career tips #philippines #RoadToRPsy #filipino psychometrician #grad school #grad student #RPmNotes

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downbytheouterbanks · 4 years

Text

Happy Place (Rafe x Reader) pt 2

a/n: Hi!! I just wanted to say thanks for the support for the first part of Happy Place I really didn’t think it was any good so it was incredible to me to see people enjoy it ((: Anyways, here’s part two, I had a totally different plan for the next part but then I got sunburnt like really bad and it gave me an idea (;

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The next few days blurred together, all you did was unpack and organize, never again did you want to have to breakdown cardboard boxes. You placed one final poster on your wall before stepping back and taking it all in, proud of your work and excited to show it off, you shoot Sarah a text telling her that your masterpiece is complete and that HGTV would be proud. As soon as your message switched from reading “delivered” to “read” your phone starts buzzing and Sarah’s face appears.

“She’s alive!!” Sarah screams at you through FaceTime, making you laugh. “Now that you’re done settling in, we should celebrate! How about this weekend, when my parents take Wheezie to her first official tour of UNC, we have a girl’s day? We can do our nails, hang by the pool, and catch up! Plus, I know someone who can hook us up with some White Claws. You can sleepover and it’ll be like the good old days!”

“Sounds like a plan! I can have my mom make her famous chocolate chip cookies for us to much on while you fill me in on all the island gossip.” You offer up as you plop onto your bed.

“I can’t say no to that! Now give me ten minutes and I’m coming over for a grand tour of your digs. Plus we gotta pick out cute swimsuits to take pics in because a girl’s day is not complete without a photo-op moment.” She says before blowing a kiss to you and hanging up.

It was Thursday when you had FaceTimed with Sarah and let your parents know that you would be spending the weekend with Sarah, and Saturday had finally rolled around. It was a classic hot and humid summer day in the Outer Banks so the walk to the Cameron’s house had you sweaty and ready for the pool.

You let yourself into the house, instantly stripping down to your swimsuit, you yell, “HONEY, I’M HOME!” as you make your way through the house out towards the pool. You were only expecting Sarah to be home, which feeds your shock as you strut through the kitchen only to be met with Rafe slouched against the counter, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Do you have to be so loud?” He says as he makes his way closer to you, giving you a better opportunity to take in his appearance, his sandy blond hair is disheveled and lays against his forehead, lacking the gelled-back structure it had last time you saw him. You don’t answer his question as your eyes shift down, taking in his tanned skin, exposed thanks to the overly-cut muscle tank he wore. He was about three feet away from you but his tall stature towered you, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. A soft smile and a light blush grace his features as his eyes meet yours.

“I didn’t realize you were gonna be here.” You respond.

“Someone has got to make sure you and the princess don’t burn the house down,” he chuckles lightly and then takes in your appearance. You had ditched your t-shirt and shorts at the door, leaving you in just your (Y/F/C) bathing suit. Sarah had picked it for you to wear because she said “it is the perfect combination of scandalous and tasteful” she then added, “your insta DMs will thank me later”. Rafe’s eyes rake back up your body to meet yours, he raises his eyebrows in a manner of disbelief, “Did you walk here in just that?”

You retort, “I don’t know did you walk here in just that?”

“Yeah, I live here”

“Well, aren’t you a lucky boy.”

“Hey! Stop stealing her from me, this is a girl’s day!” Sarah exclaims as she makes her way into the kitchen. She grabs your hand and walks you out to the backyard, as she leads you out of the kitchen you raise your free hand and dramatically blow a kiss to Rafe, who responds by catching it and throwing it into the trash. You gasp and exclaim, “how rude!” before you are pulled out of his sight.

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After all afternoon out by the pool, Sarah and you make your way inside to shower and get ready for a no-shame Barbie movie marathon. Sarah lets you use the bathroom attached to her room while she goes and uses her parent’s bathroom. As soon as the water hits your back, your skin is set aflame. You mentally kick yourself for not putting on sunscreen as you finish showering as quickly as possible, desperate to relieve the pain you’re in.

Once you get out of the shower, you wipe the condensation off of the mirror and inspect the damage. You let out a sigh as you realize that the sunburn spans all over your back, out of your reach. You pick up your towel and dry yourself off, putting on your underwear and sweatpants, hesitating when you go to pick up your bra, deciding, eventually, to skip it and put on your oversized t-shirt. You look through Sarah’s medicine cabinet, finally locating your saving grace, a bottle of aloe vera. Stepping out of the bathroom you start heading in the direction of Ward and Rose’s room but stop once you realize you can still hear the water running, Sarah is still in the shower.

Desperate for relief from the burning of your skin, you let out a groan and turn towards Rafe’s room. You stop in front of his door and hear music softly playing as you knock, “Hey, Rafe?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can… uh. Can I come in?” You ask and almost immediately the door opens, revealing Rafe.

“What can I do for you m’lady?” He says in what you could only assume to be an attempt at a British accept as he opens the door for you and he walks back into his room. “Is the favorite Cameron sibling no longer entertaining you?” And then he lets out an exasperated gasp as he falls back onto his bed over-dramatically exclaiming, “Am I your second choice?”

You approach the foot of the bed and stare down at him while he just lazily smiles up at you, “Well, if you want to be technical about it, since Wheezie is not here, and you’re the only other Cameron sibling, then you would be my last choice.”

He sits up slightly, “Ouchie,” he makes a pouty face and then points to his heart, “that hurt me, right here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so fragile. Can we stay focused, please? I am in PAIN. Can you please put some of this aloe vera on my back? I got burned really badly today.” You say as you toss the bottle onto the bed next to him.

“Yeah, sure. No-” and then his breath hitches in his throat and he gulps. You had turned your back to him and taken your shirt off, still grasping it in one of your hands. “No problem.” He manages to stutter out as he stands up behind you.

Not thinking much of it, you weren’t really covering yourself up, as Rafe was situated behind you but what you don’t notice is the mirror in the corner of his room. Rafe is busy squeezing out some of the gel into his hands, and then when he gently rubs his hands with the cooling gel onto your searing skin and you let out a soft moan of relief, his head snaps up, instinctively looking to the mirror to see you. And, boy, does he see you.

“JESUS, (Y/N/N)!” He breathes out, soothing touch leaving you back as his head snaps up, looking at the ceiling.

“What is your deal?”

“Can’t you cover yourself up a bit?! I saw you… A LOT of you in the mirror!” He says, and then your eyes widen, your arm that grasps your shirt coming up to grasp at your breasts, gaze shifting around the room to locate said mirror. When your gaze lands on the mirror, you admire the boy in the mirror, all red in the face and neck, head tilted up and away, a hand held up to shield his eyes. You turn around and using your free hand, reach up to lower his hand from his eyes, a sheepish smile adorning your features, your blush only slight in comparison to his.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to flash you.” You giggle softly and turn your back to face him again waiting for his healing touch to return.

“Yeah.. uh… it’s um. Yeah.” He mumbles out, as he returns to rubbing soothing circles on your back, avoiding your stare through the mirror.

“You know you don’t have to act like you’ve never seen someone’s boobs before, Rafe.” You both let out a laugh and his breath hits the newly soothed over skin, and a pleasured sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Rafe’s gaze raises to meet yours in the mirror, his eyebrows raised.

“Sorry,” You clear your throat, “You just uh breathed on that spot and it uh felt… felt nice.”

Holding his stare with yours, he finishes spreading a layer of aloe over your burning skin. However, as his hand leaves your back, a mischievous look flashes across his features. Suddenly, he fans his breath all over the area he just dampened with his touch, goosebumps raising on the rest of your skin. He pops his head back up to meet your shocked face in the mirror. You quickly turn, ready to bolt from the room to re-evaluate your feelings, but your brain is clouded and your depth perception has never been your strong suit, you turn right into the very culprit of your flustered state.

Rafe goes to grasp your elbows and steady you, “Woah, there. You alright?” He chuckles, amused at the newly flushed state of your face.

“Yep, all good. Good. Good. GREAT. I’m gonna go. Now, and uh wait for Sarah in her room.” You let out, avoiding eye contact with the boy that has undoubtedly got your heart beating out of your throat. You struggle to wiggle your way back into your shirt without the tit-show, again. Suddenly, an extra pair of hands guide your shirt back on you, his hands pulling it down your torso, and then settling onto your hips. Your head slowly lifts and your arms lower back down and settle onto his chest. You both stay here, sharing a stare packed with confusion, curiosity, and longing.

Is it possible to feel absolutely paralyzed while also absolutely overrun by butterflies at the same time? You think to yourself.

“I feel the same way,” Rafe whispers. His response snaps you out of your daze.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud.” You say as you detach yourself from the entrancing hold you were in, backing up a few steps. “Okay, well. As I said, I’m just gonna go wait in Sarah’s room.”

“Okay.” You back up more with his response, he looked confused and you mirrored him with the same confusion overtaking your features. Desperate to gather as much space from the source of your racing brain, you turn to the door.

As you’re walking out you rush out a “thanks for the hold. FUCK. Thanks for the help.” And with that, you are walking as fast as you can to Sarah’s room to sit and mentally unpack everything that just happened with her brother.

tag list: @drewsephsmiles @babygurlbarnes

let me know if you want a part three and if you want me to tag you (:

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skribbz · 3 years

Note

i know im sending u tons of these but ELLIE

Oh boy here we go

First impression

I actually didn’t know anything about TLoU before I played it except for it being a zombie game. Since zombies have always been a super special interest for me, I had to play it. So actually playing it was like being smacked in the face with emotions.

But I didn’t even know about the existence of Ellie, so my first time seeing her was when Joel meets her. I thought she seemed cool, but a little abrasive. She did make me laugh though.

Impression now

Oh god where do I even start.

I’m not even exaggerating when I say Ellie helped me become who I am today. I related to her in so many ways. Not just in the way she's so nerdy, but also in how she treats others. She was just a kid who was let down by the world around her, yet she still wants to do what she thinks is best for everyone. She's sentimental, holding onto keepsakes from the people she's lost. She can have a bad attitude sometimes, but is just a complete sweetheart. She goes through so much, and even when Joel gives her the option to just go back home, she decides to keep going.

Ellie came into my life when I needed a role model. The way she had gone through so much, but didn't let it break her soul, the way she always found a way to "endure and survive", meant so much to me at the time, and even now. She also helped me accept the fact that I wasn't straight. Seeing a character who I already admired so much, kissing another girl made me just break down crying.

When they said that Ellie was going to be the main character of the second game, I cried again. I think the second game just really expands on the reasons I loved her in the first one. She still tries to do what she thinks is best. It's not always the right thing, and sometimes it's very much the wrong thing. But she has so much guilt over Joel, yet still loves him so much she's willing to do whatever it takes to give him the justice she thinks she deserves, even if she knows it's not at all what he would want her to do. (There's so much more to her thoughts and actions in the sequel of course, but I feel like this is one of the most important ones.) It's just like the first game where she's willing to go to any ends to do what she thinks is right, no matter how much it may hurt her in the process.

I think in the end she has realized that her life means more than just being the cure. Her life matters just because she’s alive, is loved, and loves others, and that message means a lot to me, and I’m sure to many others, too.

I think Ellie is such a wonderful character, and one of the most well written characters I've ever seen in any media. She really changed my life, and because of that she is my favorite character ever.

Favorite moment

HOW am I supposed to choose just one.

Does the entire winter section count? It shows much she loves Joel, and how strong she has become by that point, and how determined she is to survive. She sees just how truly awful some people in the world can be, and despite it she still wants to do whatever she can for the cure.

It’s our first look into what would become a major theme of the second game. While David’s town is an enemy to Joel and Ellie, and we as players hate them, they were doing what they thought was best to survive. Cannibalism isn’t right by our standards, but that’s because we haven’t been pushed to that point. But would we be willing to turn to it if we were pushed that far? Is it more acceptable to kill innocent people to feed a whole community that’s depending on you, or is it more acceptable to just let all of those innocent lives that are depending on you die?

I think we can all agree on one thing though. David is a piece of shit and deserved to be chopped up into teeny pieces.

Idea for a story

I have many ideas. But I'll go with where I think her story can go from here, AKA my TLoU3 idea.

The story starts 12 or so years later. Putting JJ around 13. Dina, Ellie and Abby 32-33. Lev around 25. Tommy and Maria probably late 50s-early 60s

Ellie is back in Jackson. She works her ass off doing whatever manual labor she can because all she wants to do is just work herself into exhaustion. She's dealt with her trauma and she’s in a better place mentally now. Now her reasons for shutting everything out is that she’s too scared to try and really reconnect. She wants companionship but is afraid of the pain of losing it all again.

The exception is when she has JJ. He is still the light of her life. She takes him hunting and camping and plays video games with him and they geek out over comics. She has taught him to draw. She wants to teach him guitar like she promised, but hasn’t been able to yet.

The only time she sets foot outside of Jackson is with JJ.

Dina is of course doing something that uses her skills. Maybe the lead electrician at the dam. They've kept JJ very innocent. Obviously he knows of the infected, and has seen his moms kill them before, but he doesn’t know just how bad it really is, he’s never seen another human die.

Her and Ellie are amicable. They are happy to be co parenting jj but there's nothing between them (for now).

Maria holds a lot of guilt. Over sending Joel and Tommy out that day, over not giving Ellie and Dina help in Seattle, which got Jesse killed, over letting Tommy get as bad as he did after Seattle. She blames herself for the way Ellie is. She tries to spend time with Ellie, but Ellie is very elusive when she wants to be. She adores JJ though. That's her little great nephew. His auntie is the leader of the whole town and he uses that to his advantage every chance he gets. And she lets him.

Tommy has a little guilt. He doesn’t know Abby is alive, Ellie only ever told him she “finished things” and didn’t talk to him much after that. But he sees how she is a complete mess and lost her fingers. He knows that guitar was special for Ellie, plus any kind of disability is a huge disadvantage in their world. Dina doesn’t let JJ near him. JJ doesn't understand why and no one will tell him

Tommy and Maria never worked out their differences and have stayed separated, partly because of their guilt toward what happened with Ellie. They cared about her like she was their own and they both let her down

Jackson is now huge. They’ve made contact with other settlements, and have trade routes. But Maria is getting older and the town is getting too much for her to run on her own. Tommy is getting up there in age as well, and despite his injuries he still does patrols. But alone. He’s not actively trying to get killed, but he isn’t always as careful as he knows he should be.

Story starts out and you're playing as Tommy on patrol. He gets ambushed by a small group of people. And lo and behold Abby (and Lev) is there. Tommy is shocked when he finds out who it is, and he asks if she came to finish the job she started. She says no they tracked him since he left the town and were waiting to get him alone because she has news for him. The fireflies have rebuilt stronger than ever and now they’re back out for the cure and are coming for Ellie, because she is the only known source, but also as a form of revenge for what Joel did all those years ago, destroying what the Fireflies once were. They were able to get there first because they only brought a few people and set out before the main squad. Tommy asks why he should believe her, and she says that Ellie saved her life years ago and it's the least she could do to pay her back. (just like. Assume that there was enough info stored with the fireflies that Abby could work out who Ellie is). To keep Tommy from attacking or following him, they knock him out and untie him then leave.

Control switches back to Ellie who is doing her chores around town. You get to nail fences, chop wood, and carry hay bales. Fun. Later that night, as Ellie is getting home, standing on her porch, Tommy rolls up and confronts Ellie about Abby being alive. They get into a huge fight and Ellie tells Tommy that he fucked up her life. It's his fault she lost Dina. His fault she only gets to see jj when Dina allows it, his fault Jesse was killed. And its his fucking fault Joel died.

He storms off. But then Ellie notices J standing on the street coming to stay the night. She had forgotten this was her night with him. He’d been told his whole life that moms had a peaceful break up, and that dad and grandpa Joel died being heroes, but now he’s upset about what he's heard so he runs back home to Dina.

That night Ellie is woken up by fighting in Jackson. She runs out to try and find what's going on. All she can get is that fireflies are attacking. She eventually finds out that some travelers shot Maria and a fight broke out. Ellie fights through the town to Maria. She's injured with a gunshot in the arm, but alive still and kicking some ass. She tells Ellie that fireflies came asking for her, and would leave peacefully in return. She told them no and they shot her. Maria says she’ll be okay and tells Ellie to go find JJ and get him to safety.

She fights through to the other side of town. Because of the commotion, infected have broken in so there’s humans and infected running around killing. She gets to Jesse's house and JJ is hysterical, Dina is holding him down and he's like screaming and crying. His grandpa fought off a firefly who was trying to get in their home and was shot and killed. It hits Ellie that this is all her fault. People are dying because of her again. Anyway she tells dina and robin that they need to leave. Dina says she's not going anywhere without Ellie. Ellie wants to stay and fight, but JJ is more important right now. So the 4 of them sneak out and near the gates they meet up with Tommy. He’s helping get people out and sending them to one of the patrol lookouts that is secure and can fit everyone.

Ellie sends Dina, Robin and JJ off. Ellie gives JJ Joel's revolver and tells him to keep mom and grandma safe for her. She goes back to Tommy and the two get back to Maria. When they are very close to her, an infected ambushes them and Tommy gets bit. They get to Maria who is losing blood fast and doesn't look well. After a lot of arguing from Ellie, the pair decide to stay. They tell Ellie they’re old now. Maria wont last long with her wounds, and tommy has no chance of surviving his. They apologize to Ellie for the way things turned out and how much she has meant to them all these years. They give her all their ammo except for one bullet in each of their guns, because that's all they need now. Ellie begs them to come along, and she’ll figure something out for them. But they eventually convince her to go. Ellie leaves crying, and Maria and Tommy maybe get a cute moment before cutting back to Ellie.

Ellie makes it back to where the survivors are and is depressed that there's way less than she was expecting. JJ has cried himself to sleep and Dina notices Ellie is acting strange and pulls her away to ask her. Ellie tells her what happened and Dina holds her while she cries. It's the first time anyone has really been physically affectionate with her in a long time so Ellie clings to her as she lets it all out

The last survivors decide that Jackson isn’t safe. It's too damaged, filled with infected, and no one can figure out what the fireflies were doing. Ellie can't bring herself to say anything about it.

The next morning, everyone wakes up and is discussing what to do. JJ is still inconsolable. Ellie decides to take him away from the group to get some fresh air. She tells him to hold on to Joel's revolver. They chat and JJ asks what happened to auntie Maria and Tommy. She decides to be honest with him. She expects him to cry, but is shocked to see him become angry instead. He basically swears revenge for them and for his grandfather. This of course stirs up a lot of very negative thoughts in Ellie, but she decides to let him grieve in his own way for now.

That’s everything I have written out in detail for now. But the main idea would be Ellie becoming a leader to the few remaining survivors as they make contact with the other settlements that Jackson is allied with. She would take responsibility for all of these lives. They would be her reason for fighting now.

Over the course of the game, Abby would come back and her and Ellie would be forced to team up. There’s no more animosity between the two though, they’re both over it and don’t want to go back down that road. Over the course of the story they would come to understand each other’s actions. They wouldn’t become friends, but they can at least rely on each other.

JJ would find out that Abby is the person responsible for Joel and Jesse’s death, and she came from the group that killed his grandfather, Tommy and Maria. He’d go into a rage and try to attack her and Ellie would have to hold him back. He wants to know why Ellie is defending the person who hurt everyone they loved. Ellie would have to finally tell him the whole story, and try to keep him from giving into his anger and sadness like she did in the second game. She won’t let her son become like her. She wants him to stay her innocent baby boy, but she knows that’s just not possible in their world.

Other stuff that I have yet to flesh out:

More about Dina’s backstory. Or at least her last name.

Lev being a big brother to JJ.

Dina and Ellie falling in love all over again as Dina sees Ellie doing so much for the rest of the community. It’s gonna be emotional.

Ellie teaching JJ how to play guitar, and tearfully singing Future Days to him.

Unpopular opinion

I’m not sure of what people’s opinions on her are. I know most people love her and anyone who doesn’t isn’t entitled to an opinion.

I guess one is I’m not a fan of her farm hairstyle. Her Seattle look was just so cute. Why did you do that to your head, girl.

Favorite relationship

Dina of course.

I feel like Dina represented what Ellie could have if she wasn’t stuck in the past. Joel represented her violent past, and her traumas. Dina represented her future, her home, her family. Ellie was so stuck in the past, that she couldn’t see the future standing literally right in front of her.

It’s a great representation of how she holds onto the people she loves, but also how PTSD works. The past keeps coming back to haunt her.

Favorite headcanon

I hc her as autistic! I kinda feel bad because everyone else hcs her as having ADHD. But I’m autistic so I say she is too *sunglass emoji*.

Why I think she’s autistic:

Obviously her special interests would be space and dinosaurs, and the way she talks about them reminds me of how I get when people let me infodump about my SIs.

The way she plays with her fingers looks hella like stimming to me. In fact, that’s one of my stims!

Her interest in art and music.

Her interest in general nerdy stuff like comics and video games.

She collects cards, and collecting is a big autistic trait.

The way she’s sort of untidy and cluttered, yet labels all of her boxes of shit. The ordered mess is such an autistic thing.

#apocalypsebutch #this is 2861 words

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marvelmadam08 · 4 years

Text

Baby Blues 11/?

Summary: Ace goes to his first doctor’s visit, and Alex checks in with her doctor.

Warnings: First shots, crying, doctor visits, slight jealousy. Fluffy Dad!Chris content. Body insecurities, health concerns, and mentions of sex.

A/N: Rest in Power to Chadwick Boseman, our Black Panther and King. He gave us so much while battling cancer, not just Black Panther. The work he has done in the amount of time he had left a mark, and cannot be replicated. Chadwick Boseman has been such a force in Hollywood that no one could ever forget him. My heart goes out to all his close friends and family.

Also, let’s not make this about Black Panther 2.

~~~~~~

6 Weeks Old

“I mean they can program a robot to perform surgery on a grape but they still have to jab a n-e-e-d-l-e into my baby’s skin for vaccinations.” Alex glared at a few of the other moms in the waiting room, eyeing Chris up and down with Ace.

Chris fed him while Alex filled out the medical file. He was noisy drinking from the bottle, but he took to bottle feeding easier than Alex expected. She watched from the corner of her eye, Chris was a natural, jumping right into action whenever Ace needed something. Seeing him walk around the house with Ace never got old. He was always singing songs to him, some made up. Alex’s favorite so far was the one called ‘Doggies Are Friendly’, in attempts to get Ace to warm up to Dodger. No luck.

Overall seeing Chris Evans with a baby was enough to get any woman excited, and willing to give him more. So she could understand the gazes he got from the other moms, but that didn’t mean she had to just sit there and let them undress her husband with their eyes.

“Al, he can’t understand you.” He watched Ace, unaware of the extra eyes lusting after him

“He’s intuitive Chris, he knows what I mean." Alex frowned, thinking about the how upset Ace would be once he got his shots. She always thought her mother was being overprotective when she was younger but now she understood it completely. She could hear him crying now, and the thought made her eyes sting.

Chris finally looked up, after hearing the infliction in Alex’s voice ”What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t say that, we’re not gonna bottle up our feelings.”

She half shrugged “I guess it’s a mental thing. I mean I know he has to get the shots- I just feel like I’m a monster, purposefully putting him through pain.”

“Baby, it’s a required check up, the first of many shots down the road. You aren’t a monster, you’re a mother.”

“Evans?” the nurse called out from behind the counter

“Are you gonna be okay?” Chris asked as they stood, shifting Ace against his shoulder to burp him

“If you’re asking me if I’m gonna cry, I’m making no promises.” she quickly admitted

Alex hovered over the nurse while she weighed and measured Ace, and checked his heartbeat. Ace’s face when the cold stethoscope touched his chest was adorably deadpan. However, Chris was the one with all the questions, discussing development stages with the nurse the entire time. Going over Ace’s feeding and sleeping routine, asking if the amount of sleep was too little or too much. Would changing the baby wipes would cause any rashes. How soon would it be before hiding out if he was actually allergic to food or animals. And he jotted it all down in his phone, Alex stopped the nurse short when she offered to give Chris her number for any future questions.

“Al, I can hold him.” Chris offered once it was time for the vaccine shots

“No, it’s fine. I can handle it.” She kept Ace’s head turned away facing Chris. The nurse took a step closer, syringe in hand, Alex moved away slightly. “Sorry.”

The nurse tried again, Alex turned the other way.

“Mrs. Evans, I need you to stop moving him.”

“Al-”

“Okay, you hold him.” she conceded, before handing Ace over to Chris

She chewed her nail and watched from her new spot. Ace cried the second the nurse stuck him, Chris felt tears rising to his eyes. He went to wipe them away before anyone could see but more spilled over hearing the cries getting louder. Ace fidgeted against Chris, a heartbreaking attempt for him to move away from whatever stuck him.

“It’s okay baby.” Alex did her best to soothe him while the nurse prepped for another shot. She looked up at Chris, his cheeks wet but he kept his face straight, Alex wiped the tears away from her husband’s face before repeating “It’s okay baby.”

Seeing Ace’s lip poke out while the nurse moved in to stick him again nearly made Chris go into full defense mode, but he bit the inside of his cheek when the crying started again. Ace’s, not his.

“It’s okay honey, we’re all done with the shots.” the nurse soothed, covering the puncture points with small smiley face band-aids

“Yay, all done!” Alex clapped while Chris kissed the top of his son’s head to calm him “You okay?” Alex gave her husband some comforting back rubs

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He sniffled

"Good because now we have to go to my appointment."

***

After chewing down the nails on her left hand, Alex was half through her right one when she was called into her doctor’s exam room. Chris offered to go in with her, but she quickly declined, knowing she would have to be undressed for part, if not most, of the check-up. She done her own self-examination last night, seeing how different she looked down there.

She didn’t want to be vain about it, but the first thing that popped in her head once she looked was how much she needed to get a wax. The second was equally as vain as it was humbling when she thought about having sex with Chris again. Her husband, AKA, Captain freaking America, who could eat to his hearts content and still come out looking as cut as the day she met him. Alex wanted to kick him and kiss him at the same time.

“Well Alex,” her doctor spoke, going over her notes “my main concern for you right now, is your blood pressure. It’s a little higher than usual, what’s your diet like at home?”

“More red meat than before, loads of pasta.” Alex paused to think “I tried string peas, y’know just for research purposes, surprisingly good.”

She chuckled “I tended to lean towards the squash when my first kid was born, but peas were a close second. What about stress?”

Alex shrugged “Fine, I guess. I mean, I can deal with it.”

“Alex, you can’t take this lightly. Stress can be just as harmful as smoking, for both you and your son. You are still breast feeding right?”

“Yes, and I started pumping.”

She jotted down some more notes “Mhmm, and how’s that going? No issues? Low milk supply? Pain while nursing?”

“Aside from the nipple chaffing, not really.” Alex picked at her nails, her doctor noticed

“Alex, I can’t help if you’re not one hundred percent honest with me. It’s bad enough we have doctors that downplay our symptoms because of a bullshit theory that Black people, specifically Black women, have higher pain tolerance. Don’t put on a brave face, not when it comes to your health.”

“Well when you put it like that- I hate pumping, I hate feeding sometimes too. It’s like a bunch of pins and needles sticking me when I do it, just sucking the life out of me. I don’t recognize my body anymore, and I’m warning you now, it’s not pretty down there. As for the stress, my husband and I have been fighting over what’s best for Ace, and our marriage. Which makes me concerned for when I go back to working. My Dad damn near broke his back, my son won’t sleep for longer than an hour, and I think he hates our family dog.” Alex exhaled a sharp breath

“You feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“If you don’t like the feel you have when pumping when why do it?”

“Chris wants to be included in feed Alexander, my son, which I get. He’s gonna be back and forth between working and home again, so he wants his chance to bond with him.”

“But breast feeding is also uncomfortable to you?”

“Only when he fights trying to latch, but once he does and he’s calm, it’s worth it.”

“Have you ever considered formula? Lots of new moms do it, even rotated between that and breast milk. It’s actually proven to help both the mom and the baby.”

“We’ve talked about it, I voted against it.”

“I’m not saying you should, ultimately it’s your choice, but I will recommend, giving it a shot considering the stress you might be going through.” she scribbled down a few more notes “Now physically, how do you feel?”

“In my vagina?”

“There too. Please scoot forward and lay back for me.”

Alex followed orders and put her legs in the stirrups “Mostly tired, out of everything I’m exhausted. I’ve been walking to try and slim down a bit, but the weight isn’t going anywhere.”

“That’s to be expected, a lot of new moms hope for the baby weight to drop right off.” Alex’s doctor explained while pulling on her gloves “However, a lot of it is your uterus trying to shrink back to it’s regular size after being stretched out for nine months. Perfectly normal to like your body isn’t the same anymore, because it’s not. It gets easier the more kids you have.”

Alex chuckled “I don’t plan on having another one for a while.”

“Are you taking birth control?”

“No, Ace’s spit up on my clothes is all the birth control I need right now.” Alex shifted slightly “Plus I don’t really get in the mood too often now a days. Not sure if it’s emotional or mental but I’m just not ready to bring intimacy back in just yet.”

“Well physically, you’re good to go. Stitches are all healed, no signs of infection or tears. I will recommend going easy though, as well as a birth control, in case your mood changes.”

“Thanks, what do you recommend for my marriage?” Alex asked jokingly

“I have an acquaintance who’s a marriage counselor. I can give you her contact information if you like.”

“Um- I think I’ll pass this time Doc.”

“Okay then, I’ll let you get dressed and just talk to Toni at the desk before you leave to set up your next appointment.”

Chris stood once he saw Alex reenter the waiting room, Ace was fast asleep in the carrier.

“What did your doctor say? How are you doing?”

Alex did her best not to hesitate “A little concerned about my diet, said my blood pressure was a bit high, but overall-”

“Are you okay?”

“Chris, let me finish.” she gave him a reassuring smile “I gotta fix my diet, limit my stress and my blood pressure will be fine.”

“What did she say about- other things?” he hinted, a light blush creeping to his cheeks

“Well- my insatiable husband- I should wait a little longer. Nothing is wrong it’s just what she recommends.”

Chris nodded “Okay, not a problem.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders “We’ll wait, doctor’s orders.”

“Doctor’s orders.”

#chris evans x ofc #Chris Evans #Black Writers #OFC #babyblues #marvel #Avengers #Defending Jacob #devil all the time #Sebastian Stan #black reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #rip chadwick boseman

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bijvoorbeeldja · 4 years

Text

Insta-Famous!Sander AU -- Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Robbe

Robbe was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept well last night, and his head was aching at the barrage of anxiety and stress that was coursing through him in a near constant storm.

He’d had so much shit to deal with the last few months, and his body was feeling the effects of disturbed sleep, anxious thoughts, and loss of appetite. It was hard to even get out of bed at all, much less carry on with school and his social life. Which, as it turns out, was basically imploding.

Since he’d come out, his relationships with his friends had undergone some serious strain. Of course there was the whole mess with Noor, who he genuinely tried to make things worth with….but it just hadn’t. Jens had taken it well, if not a little frustrated that Robbe had taken so long to tell him. Robbe also suspected he was a little humiliated by the thought that Robbe had once harbored feelings for him. So they moved on and didn’t bring it up again, keeping their conversations safely nestled between school and skating. Aaron and Moyo, on the other hand, had responded in disgust and confusion, leaving Robbe feeling withdrawn and ostracized. So much for the “broerrrs.”

To make matters more complicated, he wasn’t even living at home anymore. Recently, his mom’s health had taken a turn for the worse and she was undergoing treatment at a nearby mental hospital. He missed her, and missed the familiarity of home — his room and his routine. He’d been able to rent a room in a flat of a girl at school, Zoe, and while he liked Zoe, her boyfriend Senne, and the flat owner Milan, he still felt out of place. He was lonely and hating how confusing and complicated his life had become. He just wanted to feel like himself...and to be loved.

His phone buzzed, jolting him back to his surroundings: deep morning light that was reminding him that time was passing and he couldn’t remain in bed all day, and the clink of dishware that meant his roommates were cooking. He could smell near-burning odors wafting underneath his door. He signed and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to check the handful of messages that had entered his group text with the broerrrs.

Jens: meet @ the park today? I’ve got weed

Aaron: in that case, you know I’m there

Moyo: can’t we go somewhere with more chicks???

Jens: You couldn’t get them anyway, man

Jens: Robbe, u in?

Robbe blew out a heavy breath. His fingers hovered over keys, hesitant.

Robbe: I should probably do some schoolwork today

Someone was typing back instantly, making Robbe’s palms sweat. God, he was pathetic.

Moyo: screw that man, it’s Saturday

Moyo: plus, maybe we’ll get papped again?

Aaron: papped?

Moyo: You know, that art hipster who was taking photos for his school project?

Robbe: Someone was taking photos of us?? What the hell?

Jens: Dude, you didn’t know? Yeah, some alternative dude in hipster glasses asked if he could take some photos of us skating for a school thing

Aaron: makes sense, we’re so good looking

Jens: He was trying to get some artsy shots by that graffiti near the ramp. He gave me his handle so we could look at them, let me try to find it

Aaron: yeah better make sure he got my good side

Moyo: wasn’t aware you had one of those

Aaron: 🖕

Jens sent a photo.

Robbe stared at the screen, feeling suddenly flushed.

Aaron: Duuuuude, Robbe you’re famous!!!

Moyo: hot stuff 😏

Jens: Are you seeing the comment, though???

Moyo: who the hell is earthlingoddity?

Jens: Just LOOK at his page

The chat was silent for a few moments as everyone pulled up the account on their screen. Robbe stared at the artsy black and white photos and selfies on the account, not exactly sure what he was looking at. Or who.

Aaron: seriously?? SANDER DRIESEN? What the hell!!

Jens: I know, right?!

Robbe went back to the account, trying to puzzle the pieces together. After a few moments, he gave up and retreated back to the chat.

Robbe: So...who is Sander Driesen?

Moyo: dude, you have obviously not spent enough time around girls

Robbe: ….well, yeah. The reason for that is fairly obvious

Moyo: Sander is that influencer from here that all the girls are obsessed with

Influencer? Robbe thought. He pulled Sander’s page back up, startled suddenly when he saw that the boy had more than 500,000 followers. What? How was that possible? All he posted, from what Robbe could tell, were half-naked selfies and...okay, so maybe Robbe had just focused on those. Like, he wasn’t bad looking…

Jens: Yeah, I cannot get Jana to stop talking about him 😑

Robbe: Better watch out, he’ll be coming for your girl

Jens: HA doubt it

Aaron: Sander is gay, I think? Or not gay, but the kind that likes girls, too?

Robbe groaned. His friends were idiots.

Robbe: Bisexual?

Aaron: Yeah, that one

Moyo: well, clearly he’s more YOUR speed, Robbe. Plus, based on the comment, he’s clearly interested

Moyo: you gotta respond

Robbe: are you kidding?

Robbe: no way

Jens: C’mon Robbe! He was asking about you!

Robbe laughed loudly to himself in disbelief.

Robbe: ...to his friend? And that would literally be the creepiest thing ever. Besides, he wasn’t even really asking about me specifically?

Robbe: it was more like the photo in general

Jens: right….

Moyo: if you won’t respond, I will and I’ll tag you

Robbe: don’t u dare

Moyo: …

Robbe: I WILL KILL U

Aaron: so we meeting up today or what

Robbe never thought he’d be so grateful for Aaron’s off-topic interjection. But thankfully, with that the Sander conversation that was making Robbe’s skin prickle and palms sweat was over. He kicked the bed cover off of him, trying to cool the humiliated blush that had crept over his body. Now that the group chat was onto other things, like what skatepark and what time, he had a moment to return to the photo of himself.

He hadn’t even known it was being taken. Apparently all his friends had. He had been pretty distracted, not with the skating, but with everything that was going on in his head. He seemed to do everything in a fog these days. In that shot, he looked so...intent, so focused, and he felt weirdly vulnerable that someone had captured him like this. But more vulnerable that someone had noticed him, and commented.

And Sander Driesen? He’d never heard of him before, but then again, he was sort of out of the loop with popular stuff, unless it was video games or action movies. He returned to Sander’s page and scrolled through it, staring shamelessly at the boy, who really was handsome. He had bleached blonde hair that was a little tousled on top, with dark roots underneath. He had tan skin and a boyish shape, but...it definitely wasn’t unattractive, Robbe thought.

He posted often about his art, which truthfully, took Robbe’s breath away. It was serious and skilled, but at the same time...it had an air of freedom in it, like it was the way the boy could finally let go of everything. He scrolled through the feed until he nearly reached the bottom, finding pictures of Sander that were more than several years old, when the boy was young.

Okay, I’ve to stop this?? Robbe thought.

He took one last glance at the photo of himself before he noticed something. In the last few minutes, the photographer had responded to Sander’s comment.

Robbe sat up in bed like he had been electrocuted. He brought the screen closer to his face as he inhaled sharply and read the reply.

Earthlingoddity: Hey man, cool pic. Who’s the kid?

verfdoordecijfers: thanks, man. Was some kid I met at the skatepark by the restaurant with the French food. He and his friends let me snap some photos for our composition assignment.

Sander had liked the reply.

#wtfock #wtfock fanfic #wtfic #instafamous!Sander AU

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nelllraiser · 3 years

Text

catakitrophe | bex & nell

LOCATION: the vural residence PARTIES: @inbextween & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: bex arrives to meet nell for ice cream. nell has other plans. CONTAINS: domestic abuse (mention)

Nell, though pushy, was an easy person to get along with. Bex had never imagined she’d make friends with someone who witnessed her destroying-- well, not her, but close enough-- school property, but Nell hadn’t seemed to mind. And she hadn’t told anyone, so that was really good enough for Bex at the moment. She couldn’t deny she was lonely. Her parents tried to control every aspect of her life, including which friends she socialized with, but this somehow felt like something they couldn’t, something they didn’t know about, and Bex liked that idea. She could remember all the times she’s snuck out of the house a teenager, unlocking her locked window, and scaling down two stories. Her knees had always been scraped and bruised, but her parents dismissed it because she “had always been a clumsy child”. And she’d been happy enough to let them believe that.

There were plenty of things Bex was happy to let her parents believe that weren’t true, but having something completely secret was still new. Ever since she’d been outed, she’d felt as if everything she wanted to keep for herself was suddenly bared in front of her. But Nell was, well-- different. No one but them knew about what happened. And so, despite Nell’s pushiness and her insistence that what had happened was magic-- and maybe, just maybe a teeny, tiny eency part of her believed that-- Bex found herself at the other girl’s house, staring up at the arched roof of the cabin like home. It was such a large house, hidden back here partially in the woods, glowing with something almost other-worldly. It took her a minute to raise her fist and knock, stepping back from the door and smoothing the frills of her dress down as she waited. Fixing her hair just as the door opened. “Hi! Hello! I-- I made it! It’s me, Bex. Your house is so big, I sort of didn’t expect it. Am I late?”

Apprehensive was the best way to describe how the week had gone for Nell while she was waiting to take Bex out to ice cream. The initial excitement of meeting a new witch had somewhat quelled in the face of realizing just how badly she could fuck this up. Bex needed guidance, a steady hand to show her the path of magic, and the last time Nell had tried to teach a form of magic hadn’t exactly gone...smoothly. Regan had balked when the witch had tried to teach the banshee how to glamour, panicking when Nell had made her fake wings disappear. Then the door to instruction had been shut, and Nell was determined not to make the same mistake with Bex. Beyond that was the worry that she might be ostracizing Bex by teaching her. Surely the right thing to do would be to hand Bex over to her old coven, and into the hands of witches who’d taught literal generations— Nell being one of them. But it was plain to see that Bex already struggled with control in her life, and Nell couldn’t help but think about how her mother was still on the board the coven, no doubt eager to get her hands on any fresh and young witch that came to learn. That was a fate Nell wouldn’t wish on anyone, so it seemed it was up to her.

Brushing her doubts away, Nell clung to the excitement of seeing Bex again, greeting the girl with an eager wave and smile. “Hey! No! You’re perfect- I just finished feeding Taki, actually. I think he’s excited to meet you.” She’d already instructed the overgrown cat to be on his best behavior, and to do his best not to let loose any fireballs or soot sneezes in the presence of their visiting witch. Nevertheless, she wanted to let Bex get acclimated first before introducing a cat with eyes of fire. “Yeah- technically it’s my sister’s house but we all live here. Both my sisters and me.” Corpsey, Bea’s reanimated corpse, had been carefully hidden away as well amongst other alarmingly magical things, but there was still a healthy air of mysticism around the home as Nell waved Bex inside. “I can show you him before we get going for ice cream if you still wanna see him.”

“You have two sisters?” Bex said, astonished and excited. She’d always wanted a sister-- or even brother. Growing up alone in that big house of her parents’ had been lonely, and all the weight of their expectations had been firmly placed on Bex’s shoulders because of it as well. She glanced around as she stepped inside and looked down at Nell with a smile. “What’s that like? Living with them? Is it nice? Are you parents not in town?” She shuffled around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with herself, when Nell offered to let her meet Taki. “Oh! Yes! I’d love to! I’d love to meet Taki. I haven’t met many cats before, actually. People mostly have dogs, and my dad never let me have any pets growing up. Or...now.” She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her head. Why was she nervous? Well, she supposed she was sort of always anxious. She stood behind Nell and waited for her to show them off to her cat, unable to help the nerves bubbling in her stomach.

“Yeah! There’s Bea and Luce. They’re both older than me. I think they’re out somewhere right now, though.” To be honest, Nell had specifically chosen a time that she’d known her sisters wouldn’t be present for, wanting to have Bex all to herself for the moment being. “It’s fine living with each other. I mean obviously we fight sometimes, but it’s also nice not having to tiptoe around them like you might have to do with a normal roommate. And I can get into their closets whenever I want,” Nell finished with a grin. She was built smaller than her two sisters, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find ways to make their garments work if she really wanted to wear something of theirs. Magic was also good for temporarily resizing things if need be anyway.

The question about her parents made Nell internally wince, and she did her best to hide the tenseness that claimed her shoulders for a split second. “No, they live in White Crest. I was born here and grew up here, too.” There went Bex anxiously babbling again, but it was precious in a way that endeared Nell to her. “Don’t worry, I have a feeling Taki’s gonna like you. I’ll get him now for you.” Then she was calling the cat in a singsong voice mostly for Bex’s benefit. Normally she would have simply tugged on their mental bond to let him know he was needed, but with Bex present she was currently employing a strategy of ‘the less magic, the better’. Almost instantly, a black cat that had absolutely no right being as large as he was came down the stairs of the home, tail high in the air in a cat greeting. In truth he was an Ovinikk, a Shiba Inu sized beast, and Nell’s familiar...but Bex certainly didn’t need to know that. “Bex, this is Taki,” Nell said as she bent down to give Taki a pet. “And Taki- this is Bex.” The Ovinikk looked up at the new witch with a slow blink before settling himself on his back haunches, tail swishing curiously while he waited for Bex to make the first move.

“I always wanted a sibling,” Bex admitted, sighing fondly as Nell explained her living situation with them.It sort of sounded like an impossible dream-- living with people you didn’t have to tiptoe around. Not that Bex wasn’t grateful for all her parents had done for her, but she was finding it increasingly more difficult to hide her true self away from them. She felt...suffocated. Her throat dried up at the thought and she had to swallow hard to make it go away, concentrating back on Nell and the situation at hand. “You were? I was born here, too! And I guess technically I grew up here, but I went to a boarding school and even when I was here during the summers and holidays, my parents didn’t really let me off the grounds, so I only went into town on weekends with them or my nanny.” She realized she was rambling again and cleared her throat, giving an apologetic shrug.

“Sorry. Right. Yes! I’m ready to meet him!” She kept her eyes on Nell, trying not to be too nosy by looking around the house, but finding herself unable to quell her curiosity. The place had so many plants and art and objects hung on the walls, it was like something out of the ‘New Age Home Decor’ magazines her mom scoffed at. It was definitely a home someone who claimed to be a ‘witch’ would live in. It made Bex wonder if Nell’s sisters were also ‘witches’. But before she could think on it more, Nell was introducing her cat and Bex turned to look-- and almost jumped out of her skin, taking a large step backwards when she saw the massive black cat and its burning eyes. Wait, were they actually on fire?? A pot next to the door shattered as Bex inhaled sharply. “His-- I’m-- I’m sorry. He’s so-- big. How is he so big?” She looked at the shattered pot, then to Nell. “Are you-- is he okay? What’s wrong with his eyes?”

“Well- let me know when you’re really craving one, and you can borrow one of mine in a heartbeat. Especially if it’s when they’re annoying me,” Nell quipped with a crooked grin, her words easy. Plus it wouldn’t hurt for Bex to have more contact with witches in her future. “Really? How long were you at boarding school? That’s probably why I don’t remember you from public school or anything,” Nell mused aloud, vaguely wondering if Bex’s parents knew more about the girl’s magical prowess than she’d originally thought. Maybe that was why they’d sent the girl far away? “Sorry- I know he’s big.” The pot shattered and Nell barely flinched, though she did let a momentary grimace slip through her expression. This was only further proof that Bex was wound far too tight, a literal ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. She needed to learn how to harness her emotions before something more troublesome than a pot or computer exploded.

“It’s alright! It’s just a pot.” Her hands were open palmed and stretched in Bex’s direction, as if she were trying to make sure a skittish and wild animal would stay calm. “It’s his breed- they’re all big like that.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “He’s perfectly happy! He’s just a very special cat.” The end of Nell’s words had a hint of a coo to them, always enjoying complimenting her familiar. Taki enjoyed it too, his whiskers twitching intelligently as he preened under his witch’s pride. “His eyes are another trait of his breed- that’s all.” Nell gave Taki a meaningful look, as if willing him to appear as non-threatening as possible. Their bond rang true as the Ovinikk flopped heavily onto his side, exposing a fluffy stomach to the pair of them. “You can pet him if you want.” The pot was still broken in the corner, and Nell wondered if this might be her chance to dip Bex into the world of magic that wasn't just breaking and destruction. “You know...you can fix the pot- if you want. It’s not hard, and it won’t hurt or anything.”

Bex stayed in her corner for a hot minute, observing the cat, and taking in Nell’s words. There were a lot of really strange animals in the world, it made sense that there were giant cats. Her eyes stayed trained on the large creature as it flopped over and slowly, she unfurled herself from the corner and took a step closer, glancing between Nell and the large cat. He looked so soft and fluffy, like velvet fur. She could remember digging her hands into a big, fluffy dog’s fur she’d met as a child once, and not wanting to let go. Only losing her grip when her mother pried her from the poor dog. “What um--” she felt her voice wavering and had to swallow again, staring wide-eyed at Taki. “What b-breed is he?” She was trying her best to stay calm, she didn’t want another pot to explode-- not that it was her doing or anything, of course it wasn’t! It was just the tension in the room, a total coincidence-- and possibly freak out the cat, or Nell. Slowly, she made her way over and bent down, still a fair distance from him, reaching out her hand to pet his back. “He’s so soft…” It almost felt strange, but if she didn’t look at his strange, glowing eyes, or the rest of his large, maned body, she could pretend he was a regular cat. Her eyes drifted back up to Nell. “I went to boarding school my whole life, until University,” she finally answered, not wanting to look back at the cat in case she had another freak out. Hands shaking, she stood back up and smoothed them down the front of her pants. “Fix the-- but I didn’t-- that’s not-- do you mean like with glue or something?”

Nell paused a moment before answering Bex’s question, realizing she was going to have to make a decision on exactly how truthful she was going to be when it came to the more magical things in her life. But the girl seemed to accept the explanation of a different breed, so perhaps Nell could test the limits a little. “He’s an Ovinikk,” Nell replied carefully, wondering if the other girl had ever heard a name such as that in her life. A part of her felt as if Bex might go home to Google it, and be apprehensive about the myths and legends she’d find. If she did, the best Nell could hope for was that Bex wouldn’t think she was insane, and still be willing to come back and learn. “He really likes his ears scratched,” she offered with a small smile, happy to see her familiar and Bex getting along. Taki stretched as Bex pet him, basking in the attention he was receiving. Initially, he hadn’t been too happy to learn of another human coming along and stealing away his witch’s attention, but if she kept petting him...perhaps she could stay. “Not with glue,” Nell began delicately, desperate not to scare off Bex. “But...fixing it like the computers were fixed. And the same way they got broken.” Maybe if she kept names out of this, it would all be a little less scary and detached— and easier to accept and explore.

“Ovinikk?” Bex repeated, raising a brow. She’d never heard of that breed before, but she hadn’t heard of a lot of breeds before. So she took the explanation at face value, and decided to look into it later. Because there was probably something weird about this breed that could be explained online, like why its eyes looked like they were on fire. She glanced back over at Nell as she bent down once again to scratch Taki’s ears as instructed. He seemed to be liking the attention, and she felt herself relaxing a little the longer she pet him. Her eyes fell on the shattered pieces of the pot as Nell started to explain. Without taking her eyes off, she tensed up a bit. “That-- that’s not possible,” she said quietly, still not looking up at Nell or down at Taki. Kept her eyes trained on the shattered remains. Could she really mend instead of break? Was that even possible? All she’d ever done her entire life was ruin and destroy. Was she really able to fix anything? “...Is it?”

“Mhm,” Nell hummed her confirmation, trying not to linger too long on the foreign name. Hopefully Bex wouldn’t think it too strange. “That’s him.” While Bex scratched at his ears, Taki began to purr, apparently already reconsidering his bitterness of no longer being an only child if the new witch was going to give him this much attention. As Bex’s hope began to blossom before Nell’s very eyes, a stab of sympathy ran through the summoner. It was like watching a dying man chancing upon an oasis in the middle of a desert he’d been crawling for longer than he could remember, already having given up hope that he might ever find refuge. “It is possible,” Nell continued gently, still well aware that Bex was an unpredictable creature, and easily startled. “I could show you if you want. Putting them back together isn’t as easy as breaking things, but it’s definitely doable.” That just seemed to be the way of life, and magic followed a similar course. And a small pot would be the perfect place to start— small and simple.

Bex paused her petting to look up at Nell, well aware of the pot still broken across the room. She didn’t want to admit that it had broken because of her, but it was becoming harder and harder to deny that all the strange things that happened around her were because of her. Hadn’t that been why her parents were so desperate to send her away? Strange things happened in White Crest, especially around her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal, and all they ever wanted was a normal child, a normal daughter. She couldn’t give them either of those things, though, could she? Slowly, she stood back up. “And you...can show me how?” she asked quietly, almost shamefully. She was tired of breaking everything-- of breaking herself, her life, her parents’ trust. She wanted to mend something. She wanted control of something in her life. Even if it wasn’t something she wanted or understood or even believed.

“I can show you how, and teach you how to do it yourself. It’s not like riding a bike or something, though. It takes focus and determination. But it’s also just as simple as wanting something, and letting yourself have it.” Nell forced herself to stop talking, worried she might lose Bex at any moment with all her hippy witchy talk. Thankfully she’d at least had a blink of experience with speaking to someone who waslearning magic later in life as opposed to being reared on it in the form of Winston. Unfortunately on the opposite hand Nell didn't have the luxury of Bex believing in magic as her childhood friend did. Nell edged closer to where the pot had broken before sitting herself in front of it, patting the floor alongside her as an invitation to Bex. “Come sit with me, and we can get you fixing things in no time.” Looking up at the girl, Nell began her first line of questioning. “So when things...break- how do you feel leading up to it?”

Wanting something and letting herself have it. Now there was something Bex knew absolutely nothing about. Because the one time she’d given in to letting herself have what she wanted, her business had been blasted around the school publicly and her parents had found out and it had been probably one of the worst days of her life. Still, she stuttered forward towards where Nell patted the ground, glancing back at Taki once, and finding herself wanting to stay with the strange cat much more than she wanted to sit on the floor next to Nell and “fix” a pot with “magic”, or whatever she was going to call it. Still...she couldn’t deny her own curiosity. Whatever had been going on around her, if Nell had a way to fix it, then Bex wanted to know. Because she wanted it to stop, she wanted to be able to fix her messes. Maybe then her parents would be proud of her. Maybe then they’d tell her she was good enough. She sat down slowly and looked over at Nell. “Umm-- usually scared o-or anxious. Or upset. Or paranoid. Or confused. Or--” she paused, frowned, “--pretty much anything but happy or excited. No, actually-- it happened when I was excited once, too. All the windows shattered in the house because I was really excited about going somewhere with my parents and then they said it was my fault so we couldn’t go anymore and they lock-- put me in my room for the rest of the day while they got the windows fixed.” A pause, as she realized she hadn’t taken a breath in a second. “Um...So, yeah. Mostly when I’m anxious, I guess?”

Nell nodded as Bex spoke, not surprised by what she was saying in the least. Magic could be triggered by most any strong emotion, but if one felt as if they were in danger, whether the threat be physical or something intangible— magic was more than ready to take to the defense of its vessel. “The problem is- you’re letting your emotions control you. People always talk about controlling emotions as if you’re supposed to dampen them down, or get rid of them entirely. But that’s not what it is when it comes to things like this. You can let yourself feel the emotions all you want, but you just can’t let them overwhelm you. You can give them a path to take, guidance through sheer will that results in you taking hold of them rather than the other way around. If you try and smother the emotions then they just get stronger, bottling up until-” Nell motioned towards the broken pot, figuring that was a good enough representation of the metaphorical bottle literally bursting open. “But you can make them work for you.” She leaned forwards to gather the bigger pieces of the pot closer together, putting them in a little pile in front of Bex. “Think of how you felt when the pot broke, and let yourself feel it again but gather it within you. And then you just...let it out. You let them out to make way for the new feelings that will come after the pot’s been fixed. You take hold of the little spark you feel when things break around you, pair it with a strong intention to fix the pot, and let the emotions power that intention. There’s no room to wonder whether the pot’s gonna be fixed or not. It just will be, and you’re gonna make it that way. The anxiety, the fear- all that stuff has to go so there’s room for what comes after, and you use those feelings to fix the pot and let the new stuff come in.”

Bex sat and listened while Nell talked. She was trying her best to absorb what Nell was saying, but a lot of it made it into her head rattled around like cymbals. She had no idea how to make sense of them, no one had ever taught her how to manage her feelings before. Pushing them down was how she managed them. But she had to try, right? If she wanted any chance at normalcy, she had to try. If she could fix her messes-- or better yet, figure out how to stop them from happening in the first place-- then she could stop worrying so much. She actually just...be normal. Or as normal as someone like her could get. Whatever was causing this-- and it surely wasn’t magic-- would be over. It had to be.

“Okay, I-- I think I get it,” she said slowly, adjusting herself to a more comfortable position and looking down at the broken pot pieces. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what Nell told her. She tried to recall the feeling of fear and anxiety when she first saw Taki. On how strange he had looked, on how not normal it was to have a cat that large with eyes that looked like actual fire. She felt it hiccup in her chest and than spread through her entire body, the more she thought about it. It made her fingers tingle and her tongue feel numb. She felt a rattling inside of her and tried her hardest to focus on fixing the pot. Fixing her mess. Fixing the problem she created. She felt a rush of something inside of her, like energy, like warm cocoa when you drink it on a cold night and can feel it sinking into your stomach and spreading through your body. And when she opened her eyes next-- the pot was fixed. “Oh hashem!” she exclaimed, excitement pouring out of her as she pointed at the fixed pot. “How’d that-- Did I do-- It worked!”

Had her explanation been too muddled? Or maybe it had strayed too close to the hippy dippy witch-talk that was the true root of most magic. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that the very essence of their abilities was tied so strongly to intentions, life, and its emotions. Either way, Nell was only tentatively optimistic as Bex confirmed her understanding, believing it too good to be true that her first lesson might actually stick. But as the pieces of the pot fused together in perfect conjunction, not a seam or crack to be seen on its surface— Nell’s heart soared, and wasted no time in joining Bex’s celebration. “You did it!” she exclaimed with a jubilant laugh, arms thrown over her head with exuberation. “It worked! Oh Bex- this is amazing. That was amazing! You did so well! I knew you could!” Gone was the tentative nature of her previous teachings, wild abandon taking its place as joy and pride swept aside any sense of speaking carefully so as not to scare Bex out of this whole ‘magic’ thing. There was no time for such things when the witch had done her first intentional magic! This was a momentous occasion in any witch’s life, perhaps even more important than uttering one’s first words, and Nell had been privy to the gift of guiding Bex through it and bearing witness.

Nell’s excitement made something flutter inside of Bex that she hadn’t felt in a long time-- someone was proud of her. She’d done something to make someone happy and excited and before she knew it, she was bubbling with tears. Amazing, she had said. Something she had done was amazing. And she tried not to think too hard about what it was that she had done, because now another thought was rising in her throat and oh hashem-- what had she done!? Bex’s happy tears turned into a gurgle and she dropped the pot and it shattered again and she shrieked, “I’m sorry!” And then next to them, the lamp flickered on and off, and on the shelf next to it, books fell from their spots. “I-I’m sorry! I don’t know what-- I didn’t mean to-- This isn’t real, right? This isn’t real.” She pressed her hands over her ears, too much noise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” She knew it couldn’t be true, she knew it couldn’t be that easy. She always destroyed more than she fixed. That was just who she was.

The tears that fell from Bex were the very definition of bittersweet. One on hand- Nell was overjoyed that she was finally finding release, the gentle crying seeming to have something of a cathartic effect on the girl in front of her. On the other hand...it was heartbreaking to see how something so simple as fixing a pot could give Bex cause for such desperate relief. Bex deserved better than to carry around such a weight on her shoulders, a heaviness that seemingly broke her whether it was being added to in the event of a magical accident, or lifted when she managed to fix her mistakes. But just as quickly as Bex’s joy had come it seemed to shatter before Nell’s very eyes along with the pot. “No, no- it’s okay! Really, it’s alright!” Nell paid little attention the mess Bex was making, not concerned in the least when she’d be able to fix it with a simple spell. Still...Nell didn’t exactly want to encourage the destruction of the house, so she reached out to place a careful hand on Bex’s shoulder, trying to calm the girl. “What if we just go outside? My garden’s out there by my greenhouse- and we could do some meditation.” Hopefully that would calm the younger witch, and it doubled as another lesson in magical application. Not that Nell would mention that particular tidbit. “We could do dynamic meditation- that’s what I always did. I’m really shitty at sitting still so it’s like meditation where you move. Not like the boring stuff where you just sit there.” Hopefully the movement would also help to relieve Bex’s anxieties.

Whatever had happened, Bex wanted out. Away. And Nell was offering that. She had put her hand on her shoulder and she didn’t even seem to be noticing all the stuff that was breaking again. Bex felt like her entire body was shuddering as she tried to concentrate on what Nell was saying. A garden, meditation, moving. She just nodded through her stupor, trying not to think about what had just happened here. Not about Taki and his weird eyes, or the broken pot, or the fact that she’d done something that had fixed it. And oh, if her parents knew what she’d done, what a mess she’d just made, they’d be so disappointed. She was nodding again through her shuddering and as they stood, she clung to Nell as if her life depended on it. She hated this, every moment of it. Why couldn’t she just be normal? Be good? Be right? Why couldn’t she just be what they wanted her to be? The disappointment flooded her chest and she tried her best to hold onto it and not let the energy explode out of her like her fear and her anxiety often did. “Garden is good,” she finally managed to squeak out, “I like gardens.” And it was one of the things she was allowed to like, and so a sense of calm followed the admission, and her grip on Nell’s hand loosened. She stole a small glance back towards the house and thought that, maybe, just maybe, having control wouldn’t be so bad.

#wickedswriting #ch:bex #catakitrophe #chatzy #domestic abuse mention tw

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shotgun--rider · 4 years

Text

Fake It Till You Make It - One

A Sam x Reader Series

PART ONE

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: plus size! Reader, background Destiel for a hot sec, fatphobic comments, Y/N’s family are demons

A/N: Has this trope probably been done five million times? Yes. Am I about to do it again? Yes.

Your cellphone rang and you grimaced, rolling your eyes as you took in Dean’s all-too-amused expression. Your best friend may have thought your situation was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but that didn’t mean you were of the same opinion.

“What?” you snapped out, not bothering to read the caller ID. Who else would be calling you for the fifth time in as many hours?

“Well that’s not a very nice way to greet your mother.”

Here you went again, the same thing over and over. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “What do you want now, Mom?”

Bent over something under Baby’s hood, Dean snorted, shamelessly listening to your half of the conversation. He could probably hear your mother too, you thought wryly. The woman was certainly loud enough.

“Well, listen, honey,” your mother began. “I was just talking to Jimmy...you remember Jimmy? From down the street, you used to--”

“Yes, Mom, I remember Jimmy.” you said tiredly. “Why do we care about Jimmy?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“For the wedding! I just asked, and Jimmy agreed to come with you.”

You let out an alarmed noise before you could stop yourself. “Mom, no.” you said firmly, with an undercurrent of panic at the thought of being trailed around by awkward Jimmy for a week. “I know it’s hard to imagine,” you drawled sarcastically, “but the vows will still be successful if I’m there without a plus one. Not like I’m the one getting married, you know.”

Still focused on the Impala, Dean’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. You seized the apple core you’d been munching on earlier and chucked it at him, feeling marginally better when it bounced off of his back.

“Y/N L/N! You should be a little more grateful. Besides, have you even thought about how it’s going to look to Dick if you show up alone?”

“I don’t care,” you said automatically. “He’s a dick, pun absolutely intended.”

“He’s marrying your sister.”

“At least it’s not me.”

“That miserable attitude is exactly why you’re going to die alone, young lady,” your mother snipped. “You could at least make an effort. Maybe if you just lost some weight--”

“Yeah, okay Mom.” You hung up the phone before she could get another word in, immediately flopping back onto Dean’s front lawn in defeat. “If I ever get married, it’s going to be in Vegas with Elvis, and nobody is going to know about it.” Not that you would. Given your complete inability to keep a boyfriend for longer than two months and your habit of getting hung up on guys who were completely out of your league, marriage, or a relationship of any kind didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Who’s Jimmy?” Dean’s green eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you let out a groan, smoothing out the skirt of your sundress as you sat back up to answer him.

“Straight-laced, awkward, kind of greasy. Went to high school with me.” You wrinkled your nose. “My mother is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. She’d throw a fit if I actually tried to bring him home. But apparently Jimmy is a better temporary solution than being single while my sister marries my ex.” You trailed off into silence, your hand pulling absently at a few strands of grass in your best friend’s front lawn. “Maybe I should just rent a boyfriend to shut her up. That’s a thing, right? Like a non-sexual escort.”

“If you’re going to the trouble, you should also get the sex,” Dean returned, still smirking at you as he wiped grease off his hands. “Or you could take me. I would make the best fake boyfriend. And I’m free if you feed me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing at the mental image. “My mom knows you have a boyfriend,” you sighed. “Which, believe me, is a great source of sadness to her every single day.”

Dean laughed loudly, both of you glancing toward the house as the screen door swung open. “Maybe we broke up,”

“Well, she still doesn’t understand the concept of bisexuality, so as far as she’s concerned, you’d still be gay.” You rolled your eyes, long since over your mother’s narrow-minded opinions.

“Who’s gay?” Castiel inquired vaguely, making his way over to the flowerbeds.

“Dean is,” you pointed out helpfully, prompting a wide-eyed stare from Cas.

“Really? Dean, you should have told me!”

When you’d first met Dean’s new boyfriend, he’d been stiff and absolutely useless at sarcasm. It was always nice to see yours and Dean’s combined efforts working.

“D’you want me to ask Sammy?”

You were still laughing at Cas’s antics, and snapped your head back to Dean so fast that you were positive something popped in your neck. “W-what?”

“I can ask Sam if he’s free that week,” Dean repeated, looking at you like he thought you were stupid. “If you want,”

You blinked, irrational panic running through you at the thought of Dean’s younger, perfect, brother.

“It’ll shut your mom up,” Dean went on, oblivious. “Sammy wouldn’t mind.”

“Dean, I barely ever see Sam,” you protested after an awkward pause. A fact that was quite devastating, actually, not that you’d ever admit to your hopeless crush on the younger Winchester.

Your best friend and his boyfriend shared a look. “That’s because he’s a hopeless do-gooder on top of being a hotshot lawyer,” Dean said fondly. “But I bet we could talk him out of taking a bunch of free cases for a week,”

Walking into your sister’s wedding with Sam Winchester on your arm sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. On the other hand, it would shut your mother up. She’d been vocal in her fears of you dying alone since you’d been barely out of college, sending you links to weight-loss workout videos and advertising her fixer-upper daughter to single men in the grocery store for years. Sam’s presence might even serve to stave off comments about your weight, which seemed to be the family’s second-favorite discussion topic any time they were together.

Still, that meant pretending Sam Winchester was your boyfriend for a week, which just seemed like some masochistic form of self inflicted torture. Besides, if even you knew Sam would never go for a girl like you, how in the world were you supposed to sell it to your nosy, skeptical family?

“I was mostly kidding about the whole fake boyfriend thing, Dean,” you said wearily, not wanting to devote any more thought to the idea.

Dean shrugged easily, sharing one more pointed look with Cas before refocusing on you. “Fair enough. You’re still staying for dinner, though, right?”

You’d have to be crazy to turn down one of Dean’s steaks. “Obviously.”

“Great,” he returned brightly. “I think Charlie’s coming.”

You were going to kill Dean. And Cas too, potentially, though it was entirely possible that he’d genuinely just been too preoccupied with his backyard beehive to remember the full extent of his boyfriend’s dinner plans. Because, apparently, “Charlie’s coming” actually meant, “Charlie and also Sam are coming.”

It only took about five minutes for Dean to bring up your mother’s nonsense, prompting you to consider just face planting into the mashed potatoes in embarrassment while Charlie burst out laughing. She thought the whole thing was unbelievably hilarious, and had immediately offered herself up as a fake date. The offer was well meant, you knew, but you were only trying to get your mother to shut up, not disown you for bringing home a girlfriend.

“I don’t need a date,” you finally huffed out, irritated with the whole thing. “I’m perfectly capable of showing up by myself. It’s not like anyone’s going to have anything to say about it that I haven’t already heard.” It was true. Your mother, and you sister and all of your aunts and uncles, for that matter, had been making the same jabs at your weight and relationship status for the past decade. You were used to it by now.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to hear it,” Charlie shrugged. “If we’re too gay for your mother, get somebody else.”

“I tried to tell her Sammy would do it,” Dean put in unhelpfully, elbowing his brother, who had been silent up until this point. You contemplated kicking him under the table.

“Poor Sam does not need to be subjected to my family for no good reason,” you said firmly, hoping that would be the end of it.

Sam was studying you across the table. “Or you could just ask me,” he said finally, and you felt your face heat up as you realized you’d basically been speaking for him.

“Yes!” Charlie burst out before you could come up with a reply. “Sam doesn’t mind, do you, Sam?”

Too late, you realized Charlie was the real villain in all of this. Your old roommate, after all, was the one who knew about your little crush. You wondered if it was worth running the risk of trying to kick her under the table without hitting Cas, who thus far had remained off of your hit list.

Sam cleared his throat roughly, looking between you, Charlie, and his plate. “No, I don’t--I mean, I don’t think Y/N really--”

“No, I do,” you blurted out, scrunching up your face immediately after the words left your lips. I do? I do? Since when? And what was it about Sam fucking Winchester that always made you act like a complete idiot?

Dean was smirking at you across the table, and you idly wondered what would happen if you tried egging Baby.

“Oh,” Sam brought you back out of your thoughts, looking hesitantly pleased. “Well, I just wrapped my latest case up, so I don’t mind coming up with you for that week. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” you bit your lip. There were a lot of emotions vying for your attention, but the dominating one was concern for Sam’s wellbeing. He had no idea what he was trying to agree to.

Sam sighed, staring you down with those hazel eyes. “Y/N, you’re basically family. Of course I’m sure. You just worry about the maid of honor stuff, and I’ll watch your back. Okay?”

This was a significantly softer ending to dinner than you’d expected, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that rushed up inside you at his words. I’ll watch your back. Pretty much no one in your life had ever done anything of the sort, until you met Charlie, and, through her, the Winchesters. You’d known Dean for months before you finally met Sam, and of course he was perfect.

It was easy with Dean, since he’d been the big brother you’d never had from day one. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking (seriously those boys won some kind of genetic lottery, you swore) but it just wasn’t like that. And then Sam had shown up and he was six and a half feet of walking perfection.

And now he was smiling reassuringly at you across the dinner table, having just agreed to pose as your completely fake boyfriend in front of your god awful family. Well, at least you’d be able to pinpoint the exact moment your life went completely sideways, if you ever had to look back.

Two anxiety-filled weeks later found you in Sam’s car, because subjecting his long legs to your tiny vehicle for a seven hour drive just seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. You were driving at his insistence, and Sam was in the passenger seat with a legal pad on his legs like he thought he was going to take notes.

“Sam,” you whined out, “is this really necessary? Can’t we just... you know, lie?” Since the whole thing is a big fat giant lie anyway.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you, and it just wasn’t fair how sexy that made him look. “Y/N, you’re the one that kept trying to warn me about getting cross examined by your mother,”

“Such a lawyer,” you huffed. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Let’s write our fake love story,” You batted your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly, punching a surprised laugh out of Sam. He watched your antics in amusement for a moment, and then refocused, absently playing with a pen in his long fingers.

“Okay, how did we meet?”

You cocked your head to one side. “My mom knows who you are,” you explained. “Vaguely, but she knows you’re Dean’s brother. We can just tell them how we actually met and stuff,”

Sam smirked at you. “You tell your mother about me?”

You made a face at him, smacking his arm as the heat of embarrassment suffused your entire body. “Just in passing, don’t go getting a big head. Well,” you made a show of studying him, “a bigger head,”

He looked affronted, running a hand briefly through his hair. “Okay, fine, we met because of Dean. Where did I take you on our first date?”

“Why did you have to take me out? What if I took you out?” You were mostly arguing for the sake of arguing, trying to keep yourself from thinking too hard as you imagined a fake life with Sam that had never happened and never would. He thought of you as family, he’d said as much, and you had to remember that.

“Because I had been waiting forever to ask you out, and I had all the good date ideas saved up,” Sam answered immediately.

“O-okay,” you said hesitantly, jarred by the conviction in his statement. But that was the point, wasn’t it? You were trying to sell it, and Sam was obviously a good actor. And unfairly attractive. And kind. And...and oh god. Your fingers gripped the steering wheel harder as you thought about the unexpected trial he hadn’t signed up for. “Sam, can you golf?”

He shrugged. “I know how it’s supposed to work. I’m just...not that good at actually getting the balls in the holes.”

If Dean were here, he would have taken that opportunity to make a lewd joke. As it was, you just winced. “My dad is going to force you to go golfing,” you explained tiredly. “I should have thought of that, I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s no big deal, Y/N,” Sam assured you easily. “I don’t mind. Besides, I want to meet your dad,”

You blinked at him, almost missing a turn in the process. “You actually want to meet my family? Sam, they’re terrible. Well, my dad’s probably the least awful of the bunch. Mostly he just hides. But Ruby will definitely try hitting on you, even though she’s supposed to be getting married, and Dick will try hitting on everything with legs, which is just gross, and Gramma Lilith is gonna give you the speech about how you could do so much better, and my Uncle Az is going to start Googling you and making weird threats, probably…” you trailed off in a huff. “It could be worse, I guess. At least if Uncle Fergus shows up everybody’ll start yelling at him instead. One can hope. He’s pretty harmless,” you shrugged, “if sometimes high. And my mother will probably just stick to the usual fat girl comments, so…”

Sam’s quiet laughter at your descriptions trailed off. “Y/N, you know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

You just shrugged again, deflecting. “Oh, come on, Sam, you don’t have to pretend like you think I’m a size two or something,”

“I’m...not,” Sam sounded genuinely confused, and you risked a glance over at him in the passenger seat. Oddly enough, he didn’t look like he was lying. Huh. “I think you’re beautiful.”

You didn’t want to have to pretend not to be affected by that, and this was maybe the first time in your life you’d actually been grateful to see the turnoff for your family’s old estate. “Here we go,” you narrated a little shakily. “It’s a big house,” you warned, still smiling a little at the way Sam’s eyes widened.

It had been a given that the wedding would take place at your Aunt Abaddon’s old estate house, which no one was quite sure how she’d acquired and which no one questioned. The only fun of the house was watching people’s reactions on the rare occasion that you brought someone here.

“I’ll get the bags,” Sam said vacantly, still staring at the house, and you chuckled softly, getting out of the car in a rush. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt important that you got to your family before Sam did, to put yourself between them, though at this point you weren’t quite sure who was being shielded from whom.

You smoothed down the little sundress you’d decided to wear, grabbing your small duffel out of the backseat and hastily going up the front walk, Sam still rummaging in the trunk.

“Y/N!” Ruby opened the front door to meet you, her smile already insincere and condescending. “You’re late. We thought you weren’t coming.” She glanced behind you briefly, then smirked. “And you’re alone. I mean I figured you wouldn’t actually find a plus one, but you know you’re gonna owe me for the meal--”

“Got everything?”

Oh thank god for Sam Winchester. You smiled tightly at your older sister, glancing briefly at your shoulder to reassure yourself that Sam was there. He was, holding a bag in each hand and a pleasant smile on his face. It was totally his false courtroom smile, but Ruby didn’t have to know that. “Ruby, this is...my boyfriend. Sam.”

Ruby blinked long eyelashes at him, processing. You figured she was torn between insulting you and flirting with him, and, as expected, the flirting won out. “Hi, Sam,” she purred. “I can’t wait to get to know you a little better,”

“Right,” Sam said flatly. “Well, I can’t wait to put these bags down, so…”

Something in Ruby’s expression soured as she looked at him, and her hand fell away from the doorframe as she stepped back, letting you both into the house. You lost no time in ducking past her, Sam right behind you.

“There’s rooms on the second floor,” Ruby said quietly, then, “I’m up there too, just in case you get bored...”

“Great,” Sam returned, and he shifted both of the bags into one hand to put a hand on your back as you walked toward the staircase. You shivered at the touch, exhaling the frustration that was already tensing your shoulders, and started up the stairs. God, it hadn’t even been five minutes. How were you supposed to get through a whole week of this?

Sam’s warm breath on your ear startled you, and he whispered, “So, third floor?”

You turned to catch him with a mischievous spark in his hazel eyes, and nodded quickly, a little smile pulling up the corners of your mouth as you started toward the second staircase with a new energy in your step.

“Hurry your fat ass, Y/N!” you heard Ruby shriek from somewhere below. “Everyone’s already out in the garden,”

You blew out your breath, hastily swinging open the first door you saw. The room was mercifully unoccupied, with a queen bed in the middle of the room and not much in the way of decoration. Your Aunt Abaddon had always been pretty minimalist.

Sam shut the door behind you both, setting the bags down in a line at the foot of the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you said quickly, figuring that it was best to get that out of the way as quickly as possible. “I’m the one that got you into this, so--”

He turned to face you with a quizzical expression. “Why would you...Y/N, you didn’t get me into anything. I said I wanted to be here. If you’re not comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor,”

“No,” you sighed out, defeated. “Ruby’ll probably try barging in here anyway. I don’t think she believes you’re dating someone like me. We’re adults,” you went on with more confidence than you felt, “we can share,”

Sam’s brow furrowed adorably. Stop that. “Someone like you?” He moved to stand in front of you, one hand sliding very gently along your upper arm. “She doesn’t think I’d go for someone that’s funny and clever and really pretty?”

Something in your chest eased at his words, and, before your malfunctioning brain could stop you, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his solid chest. “Thanks. She’s a bitch,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Sam’s hand migrated to gently rub over your back. “I’m beginning to get that impression,”

You stood there for a few more moments, letting yourself breathe within the safety of Sam’s arms, and then you straightened up and shook yourself. “Alright, boyfriend, ready to go meet the rest of the firing squad?”

He smiled down at you. “Whatever you say, honey bunch.”

You grimaced, but it got a laugh out of you, which you supposed had been his goal. “Absolutely not.”

“Cutie pie? Boo bear?”

“Stop it,” you threw a mock glare over your shoulder, opening the bedroom door.

“Okay, darlin’,” Sam murmured, and somehow that one sat better than all the rest. “I’ve got your back, remember?”

You smiled back at him, letting him slide his hand in yours for the show, and you braced yourself to head back downstairs and deal with the full force of your family.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #x reader #reader insert #spn #series

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Bo Burnham: Inside Songs Ranked from Worst to Best

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The musical of the summer was supposed to be a life-affirming celebration of one of New York’s most vibrant neighborhoods, full of color, romance, and big group dance numbers. Instead for many viewers, the musical of the moment was filmed and performed by one man, alone in isolation from the comfort (or discomfort, really) of his own home, with songs centered on techno paranoia, mental health, and the fear of aging. Maybe after a year stuck in their homes, audiences could relate to the existential dread and general anxiety on display in Bo Burnham: Inside more than a conventional movie musical.

Billed as a stand-up special, Burnham’s latest musical comedy endeavor finds the former wunderkind holed up and feeling more uncomfortable than ever. Writing, editing, directing, and performing from a claustrophobic studio, Burnham’s stand-up special skews more toward being a straight-up musical, and not because the special is light on jokes and missing an audience. Rather this has all the hallmarks of a musical narrative and plays closer to experimental cinema than sketch comedy.

Burnham expresses his characters’ inner-thoughts, fears, and desires via song throughout a contained narrative, in this case the narrative being one man trying to occupy himself during a pandemic. It has ballads, charm songs, comedy numbers, “I Am” and “I Want” songs, and a big reprise. By capturing his personal pandemic experience and putting the whole affair to song, Burnham has created one of the most compelling (and catchy!) accounts of life during 2020.

To celebrate the musical that we all needed after a year in our homes, we’ve decided to rank every song from Bo Burnham: Inside. You can stream along via the Inside (The Songs) album on the streaming platform of your choice.

20. I Don’t Wanna Know

Merely an interlude, “I Don’t Wanna Know” doesn’t quite work outside of watching the special itself. However, it is a clever way to address the fact that modern audiences do not have the attention span to sit through a film at home without checking their phone or complaining about a runtime.

19. Bezos II

While certainly meant to poke fun at the real-life Lex Luthor, it’s not that fun to listen to Bezos’ name repeated. Stil, Burnham does elicit a few laughs with his over-the-top mock congratulations. “You did it!”

18. Any Day Now

A Sesame Street-like mantra that plays over the credits, “Any Day Now” suggests this could all end either hopefully soon or on a depressingly vague far-off date that will never come. We’d like to think it’s the former, but it’s safe to assume what Bo thinks.

17. All Time Low

While this number gets docked points for its short runtime, it absolutely packs a punch with its four-line, single verse. After Bo admits that his mental health is rapidly deteriorating, he describes what it’s like to have a panic attack set to a chipper ‘80s dance backbeat. Unfortunately, we don’t get to ride the wave long enough, and judging lyrics, that’s probably a good thing for Bo.

16. Content

This strong opening number musically sets the vibe for Inside, letting us know that we’re in for some synth-heavy throwback beats that would be best listened to underneath a disco ball. Also incorporating silly backing vocals, a hallmark of many of Inside’s best tracks, Burnham declares he’s back with some sweet, sweet content. “Daddy made you your favorite,” he sings, and he ain’t wrong.

15. Bezos I

Unlike the reprise in “Bezos II,” “Bezos I” gets by off its increasingly deranged energy, with Burnham roasting fellow tech billionaires and working himself up into a manic frenzy by song’s end. Musically, it sounds like the soundtrack to an intense boss battle on a Sega Genesis game before ending with a sick little synth solo and Burnham hilarious squawking. It’s arguably the only acceptable thing that Bezos has ever been associated with.

14. Unpaid Intern

While “Unpaid Intern” is one of Inside’s shortest tracks, it absolutely makes the most of its time. The jazzy tune scorches the exploitative nature of unpaid internships before Burnham breaks out into a laugh-out-loud worthy scat routine. It unfortunately ends too soon.

13. Shit

Inside’s funkiest jam sounds like Burnham wrote the lyrics for a new Janelle Moane album cut. Bo show’s off his vocal dexterity and plumbs the depths of his depression in a surprisingly danceable fashion. Throwing in a little faux crowd interaction helps bring home the fact that we have all felt like this at one point or another during the pandemic.

12. Sexting

This slow-jam details the complications of sexting, throwing out hilariously too-true punchlines like “the flash makes my dick look frightened.” “Sexting” feels like one of a few songs that could most easily appear on previous Burnham specials. Proving that Inside’s musical textures do not come exclusively from ’80s synth pop, the outro of the song expertly mirrors modern pop trends by throwing in some trap-influenced “yahs” at the end of Bo’s lines.

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11. How the World Works

Influenced by comedian Hans Teeuwen and children’s entertainment in general, “How the World Works” finds Burnham going back to the well by playing the ignorant, smarmy white guy who is oblivious of the real issues plaguing nonwhite Americans. What’s even better though is Socko calling Burnham out on forcing others to educate him for his own self-actualization instead of doing the work on his own for the betterment of others.

Socko pointedly asks “Why do you rich f—— white people insist on seeing every socio-political conflict through the myopic lens of your own self-actualization?” Not to keep things too heavy, the song ends with an absurdist bit where Burnham returns Socko to the nether place that he goes when he’s not attached to Burnham’s hand. Scathing and bizarre, it’s a great piece of social commentary.

10. FaceTime With My Mom

While most of the music of Inside feels directly transported from the 1980s, “FaceTime With My Mom” seems only inspired by the past decade’s musical trends, updating the sounds in much of the same way that the Weeknd and Dua Lipa have. This is Bo Burnham as a hitmaker, and his attempt is convincing. “FaceTime With My Mom” earns easy laughs by getting to the seemingly specific, yet universal things that all our moms do over video chat.

9. Goodbye

Every good musical needs a good closing track, and Burnham nails it with “Goodbye,” pulling off a reprise that weaves in many of the special’s signature musical moments and touches on the special’s core themes. A forlorn piano ballad before it soars through Inside’s best motifs, “Goodbye” caps a triumphant musical achievement, coming back to “Look Who’s Inside Again” just to punch you in the gut one last time.

8. Problematic

Addressing his past work and some aspects that have not aged well, while also skewering celebrity apologies, “Problematic” is self-aware critique by way of an ‘80s workout bop. From the specific Aladdin confession to the overall apology for being “vaguely shitty,” Bo has never made accountability sound so good.

7. That Funny Feeling

This is Bo Burnham’s version of Father John Misty’s “Holy Shit,” a laundry list of all the stupid things that are signaling the fall of culture and civilization as we know it. If Misty hadn’t gotten there first, we may have had this one ranked higher. Still, Burnham manages to come up with a sticky chorus that you’ll be humming the next time something makes you feel like you’re living in the uncanny valley.

6. White Woman’s Instagram

Perhaps the special’s most playful moment, “White Woman’s Instagram” uses the musical cues of an inspiring empowerment anthem to poke fun at the predictably, perfectly curated feed of a “girl boss” Instagram. The song is greatly enhanced by the accompanying visuals, which find Bo recreating the meticulously staged and glamorous portraits that women pass off as their everyday lives.

However, Bo always likes to sneak in some sentimentality, and imagines a genuinely heartfelt post to his white woman character’s deceased mother. Don’t worry, the emotional moment doesn’t overstay its welcome, and we’re soon back to laughing at horribly derivative political street art.

5. All Eyes on Me

The droning synth and pitch-down vocals make “All Eyes On Me” oddly hypnotic and beautiful. The song seems to be addressing Bo’s depression along with his need for validation and attention, a juxtaposition that many performers deal with. It becomes clear that Burnham isn’t addressing an invisible audience, but himself, trying to will himself up and out of his dreary mental state.

4. Look Who’s Inside Again

A classic “I Am” musical song, “Look Who’s Inside Again” just may be Inside’s most emotionally resonant track that seems to hit closest to who Bo Burnham was and who he is today. This is the song that I will most likely regret the most for ranking so low.

“Well, well, look who’s inside again. Went out to look for a reason to hide again,” perfectly describes the cycle of depression and will, for me, be the special’s most lasting moment. The downbeat ending “come out with your hands up, we’ve got you surrounded” is heartbreaking enough to send a shudder down your spine.

3. Comedy

The special’s real first number is absolutely packed with hooks, from the “Call me and I’ll tell you a joke” bridge to the “Should I be joking at a time like this?” change-up. This is Bo really flexing how far he’s come as a musician, expertly utilizing autotune and a key change (us “stupid motherf***ers” can’t resist them).

“Comedy” also finds Bo comfortably in the lane that we’re most used to seeing him in, playing the egomaniacal white messiah with a wink. “Comedy” is the tone-setter and it’s so good that it lets you know that you’re in good hands for the next hour plus.

2. 30

Either I’m ranking this song too highly due to its personally relatable nature or the fact that I haven’t been able to get “All my stupid friends are having stupid children” out of my head, but I really don’t care. “30” is Inside’s biggest earworm and addresses the existential terror that comes with no longer getting pats on the back for being a young wunderkind.

“30” also examines generational differences, showing how 30 year-old people are more infantile than ever. However, at the end of the day it all comes back to those shimmering keys and that irresistible refrain. Apologies to my friends with children.

1. Welcome to the Internet

No matter how deep and emotionally rich some of Inside’s other tracks may be, “Welcome to the Internet” is the one that will live on the longest. If this were a traditional musical, this would the antagonists’ showstopper; a vaudevillian romp through the alluring chaos that is the internet. Speeding up and slowing down the pace to mirror the manic, addictive nature of surfing the net, Burnham pitches the negative aspects of online culture as they are: a feature, not a bug. Promising “a little bit of everything all of the time,” “Welcome to the Internet” is almost as enticing as the dark tool itself.

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theritualofourexistence · 4 years

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[hyper]tension

There are so many things I could be writing about right now.

I’ve chosen to stick with one of the things I know best for this post.

Did you guess “body image issues and the problem of narrowly defining the concept of health?”

If so: a cookie for you!

A handful of pictures popped up in my Timehop from 12 whole years ago that gave me pause the other day.

Sometimes when I see older pictures of myself I am overwhelmed by how different I look now... in a bad way. I see myself in those pictures as thin and beautiful and I see myself now as a sausage monster stuffed into bike shorts.

The more I sit with and work on my body image issues, the more I have noticed healthier thinking habits developing. Let me be clear, this has been an incredibly slow process. But seeing those changes is something I am really encouraged by... and it makes the every day body image fight have some measurable value.

I can say with confidence that, at 200 pounds, my body image is currently the best it has ever been.

That has nothing to do with the specific number on the scale and everything to do with working really hard over a lot of years to understand that neither “beauty” or “health” are inherently defined as “thin.” A fundamental pillar of that understanding is that you cannot separate mental health from the concept of general health.

Mainstream culture does this.

Mainstream culture wants you to believe that it’s your weight or your BMI that determines whether or not you are healthy.

That is bullshit.

Here are the pictures of me from 12 years ago. We were moving my high school boyfriend into his freshman dorm for his first year of college. I don’t think any of the people in these photos will mind me sharing them in the context of this blog post.

I am *THIN* in these pictures.

I am 17.

Apart from a very clear warning sign that I was already developing horrible posture, I noticed a couple of things right away about these pictures when I was looking at them the other day.

My shirt is a size small or extra small.

I am holding my arm across my stomach in the fourth picture because I do not think I am *thin enough* to be wearing that shirt.

I may have been a thin 17-year-old. But I was not healthy.

I was physically fit.

I played soccer for three out of four seasons of the year.

But I was not healthy.

I know I wasn’t healthy because I was about to embark on my senior year of high school during which I would, at times, only allow myself one and a half meals per day. Sometimes that one meal would be pasta. Other times that one meal would be a bag of dark chocolate peanut M&Ms and a Mountain Dew. Other times it would be a gallon of strawberries. Other times it would be a family pack of Twizzlers.

My body in those pictures might look healthy.

But appearance is not an appropriate indicator of health.

The two times in my adult life that I have been the thinnest have also been the times in my life where I have struggled the most with body image and disordered eating.

After I escaped the abusive relationship of my freshman year of college, I gained around 20 pounds.

The following summer, I exercised for an hour every day and ate only pickles and Greek yogurt (separately, of course, don’t be gross).

I lost 30 pounds.

That was also not healthy.

Fast forward a handful of years to 2015.

I start an anti-depressant.

Over the course of the next two years I gain around 50 pounds.

Today, in the spirit of full disclosure (and because the numbers don’t mean shit), my weight fluctuates between 190 and 200.

I am obese.

A mathematical algorithm used to determine BMI has labeled me “obese.”

My clothing sizes vary day to day thanks to IBS-related bloating but I’m somewhere around a 14-16.

Do you know the cut-off for plus sizes?

It’s 14.

So, I am an obese, plus-sized woman.

The numbers aren’t very polite, are they?

Within the last two years I was diagnosed with severe iron-deficiency anemia.

I committed to correcting that with a number of lifestyle changes including taking supplements and adding iron-heavy foods to my diet. I took Vitamin C to boost my absorption. On days I took the supplement I had no coffee, no tea, no dairy, and no acid-reducer meds. In 6 very committed months, I resolved my iron issues, for the most part. We have since learned that the daily stomach medicine I take may be affecting my iron absorption so, although I am no longer taking supplements, I am taking a daily vitamin to help maintain a healthy level of iron.

That story is about health.

I had a health issue and I developed a strategy to resolve the issue, being sure to consider my mental health as well.

I have worked really, really hard to consider my HEALTH instead of my WEIGHT.

This obese, plus-sized woman exercises for around an hour every day. She does not drink alcohol or soda. She is aware of what she eats and is careful to eat when she’s hungry and stop when she’s full.

One of the ways I know my thinking is healthier is that when I look at bathing suits on Target’s website, I have started to consider their plus-sized models “normal.”

The average size of an American woman based on the most recent data is between sizes 18 and 20.

I spent over twenty years unable to see an average-sized woman as beautiful.

Even though the clothing industry has labeled me “plus-sized,” if anything, I am “slightly less than average-sized.”

In this post, I’m sure my thinking seems sort of piece-meal and disconnected.

In my head, thin-ness and health and body image and eating and exercise and cultural interpretations of beauty are all smashed into one big Frankenstein’s creation.

For a long, long time I did not consider plus-sized or average-sized women to be beautiful solely because they were not thin.

When I was thin (and not healthy), I know that I considered people of that size, the average size, to be unhealthy.

I am at a point in my life where my habits are the healthiest they have been and my mental health regarding my body image is also the healthiest it has been.

And I weigh 200 pounds.

You cannot look at a person and have any idea how healthy they are.

You cannot look at a BMI or a number on a scale and judge a person’s health accordingly.

I have worked with people who are suicidal who are thin and people who are suicidal who are not thin.

Health cannot be separated from mental health.

Can you be too thin? Absolutely. Your body needs a certain amount of fat and muscle to function properly. Can you be too big? Absolutely. Risks for all kinds of delightfully chronic and fatal conditions increase with weight gain.

Can you be big and be healthy? Yes.

I know because I am those things.

If you exercise, if you are aware of what you eat and are careful to not over-eat, if you get the vitamins you need, if you prioritize balancing mental health and physical health, if you get enough sleep, “healthy” is within reach for everyone.

If I ever write a book, it will be about balancing mental health and physical health. Because for basically my entire adult life, I’ve focused on one or the other and that does not work. I promise that if I do write a book, it’ll be better organized than this zig-zaggy blog post.

We have to push back against the cultural tendency to keep mental health separate from our definitions of general health.

We have to push back against the cultural tendency to define health by how a person looks.

You are not “healthy” if you are not physically healthy.

But you are also not “healthy” if you are not mentally healthy.

And sometimes, especially if you have a tendency toward body dysmorphia or disordered eating, the healthiest option is not to focus on weight loss or buy into a fad diet plan.

I am not trying to lose weight.

I am trying to be healthy.

And, you could argue, I’m not trying to lose weight BECAUSE I am trying to be healthy.

Trying to lose weight feeds mental illness for me. And that is not healthy.

This blog post is brought to you by a lot of years of working really hard to understand myself. My specific approach to managing my health may not work for you, but I challenge anyone reading this to take a moment and think about whether or not you are giving balanced consideration to physical and mental health. Because, even if our specific situations are different, balancing mental and physical health is the only path to being healthy. For me, for you, for everyone.

This blog post is also brought to you by a new health hurdle that has been laid in my lap over the past few weeks.

I have high blood pressure.

Chronic hypertension runs in my family, so I have a predisposition for high blood pressure. I have not been aware of having it at all in the past but thanks to my mom’s new blood pressure machine, I am aware of it now.

Learning that I have high blood pressure instigated a bit of a breakdown.

For a lot of the reasons I have already mentioned.

I’m working really hard to be healthy by balancing my mental and physical health. So why, if both those things are headed in the right direction, does my body not seem to agree?

Well, genetics will do that.

In the name of health, I scheduled an appointment with my doctor. We talked about the typical “lifestyle changes” that would be recommended for someone my age with high blood pressure.

I am already doing all of them.

There are things I cannot control, however, that are affecting my mental health right now. I am carrying a lot of stress about the upcoming election. I am carrying a lot of stress about Black people being disproportionately arrested, charged, jailed, and killed by police as part of a system of oppression that I would very much like to have a part in dismantling. I am carrying a lot of stress about the pandemic that has killed 170,000 Americans. I have spent 7-8 years learning how to manage my stress. Those tools were not intended to work in situations like this.

So, my doctor and I made a plan to monitor my blood pressure, to try do more meditation and progressive relaxation, to eliminate processed snacks from my everyday diet (on occasion is still allowed), and to start doing some basic weight exercises with my cardio.

Blood pressure is a really good example of why a healthy approach requires balancing mental and physical health.

I’ve checked the physical health boxes for blood pressure management.

And things beyond my control are preventing me from checking the mental health boxes for blood pressure management.

And also, genetics.

With the help of my doctor, I’ve developed a plan that considers both my physical and mental health and only time will tell if that has an impact on my blood pressure. For what it’s worth, my doctor is optimistic. Part of the reason my doctor is optimistic is because I am healthy.

To clarify, being healthy does not mean that my IBS has gone away, it just means I am treating my IBS with diet and medicine.

Being healthy does not mean my anxiety has gone away, it just means I am in control of my anxiety.

I would not be healthy if I was unable to manage my IBS.

But I would also not be healthy if I was unable to manage my anxiety.

I would not be healthy if I had not figured out the value of balancing physical and mental health.

Just like I found a way to overcome my iron-deficiency anemia, I will find a way to overcome my high blood pressure. It may require new medication and lifestyle changes, but by giving adequate consideration to both my physical and mental health, I have no doubt that I will eventually find a healthy solution to push myself over this hurdle as well.

Gonna wrap this up with a poor quality mirror-selfie I took this morning when I tried on a new bathing suit. This is a (headless) picture of a 200-pound, obese, plus-sized, healthy person.

#bopo #body positive #body image #health #mental health #physical health #disordered eating #body dysmorphia #fat #thin #obese #healthy #weight #weight loss #diet culture #hypertension #hypertensive #high blood pressure #anxiety

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whenallelsefails-eatpie · 3 years

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Finally Answering Questions for y’all

Q1: How tall or short do you wish you were?

I used to wish I was taller because I already am tall for an (AGAB)female (5′8 1/2) but then I learned about platforms so.

4: What was your favorite video game growing up?

Monkey Ball or Sonic Adventure Escape the City...I only had a Gamecube.

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Warning: Uses humor as a defense mechanism but will quickly become extremely invested in you and give you immense amounts of unending love if they vibe w you

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic]

Melancholic

9: Are you ticklish?

extremely, on my back and sides (use this information wisely. I take no responsibility for involuntarily punching anyone who tickles me)

10: Are you allergic to anything?

absolutely nothing, allergies are to weed out the weak. (jkjk no eugenics here sis you slay that epipen)

11: What’s your sexuality?

~ pansexual ~ (prefer agab [not cis, those are two different things] females)

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?

tea, then coffee with cocoa. I don’t enjoy cocoa or coffee as much separately.

37: What is your eye color?

hazel/green

38: Introvert or extrovert?

I’m ambiverted but lean toward introversion.

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings?

oh yeah absolutely, I personally just prefer that the tattoos aren’t on your face. Or with piercings that they don’t take up so much of your face that I can’t see what you really look like.

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now?

pink, red, or platinum 56: Something that calms you down?

reading, playing instruments, taking a bath, cooking or baking

57: Have any mental disorders?

yessir. ADD, anxiety. and I used to have really bad depression. Now my depression is simply manageable lol.

73: What is your MBTI type?

INFP (enneagram 4)

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

surprisingly yes, will I come close to passing out? Maybe. But I can.

87: Do your socks always match?

never, I hate matching my socks unless the socks are funky and need to match to give them the biggest bang for their buck.

92: A store you hate?

Dick’s sporting goods. I have been dragged around that place for hours and absolutely nothing there interests me. (edit: I found a beanie that I liked but my previous opinion still stands)

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

start counting and never stop. If you mean in terms of actual measurements like cups/ounces, I can drink 20. What can I say I’m from New England.

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

Definitely fly because that might help lessen my fear of heights

95: Do you like to wear camo?

literally shoot me if you ever see me wearing camo. please, I beg you. that will be me at my lowest point

96: Winter or summer?

Autumn. Next question.

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

3-4 minutes. It’s all that breath control from musical theatre.

99: Someone you look up to:

Jughead Jones. Yes I said that, fight me. He is completely himself and he allows the different facets of his personality to shine through to people that he loves and cares about. He is loyal and caring but also unique and resilient. Plus his fave food is burgers which is an instant win for me.

100: A store you love?

Hot Topic, Barnes and Nobles, Savers or any thriftstore

102: Where do you live?

New England bb (; gettin that dark academia aesthetic straight from the source

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

Amber

105: Do you drink milk?

You mean out of the glass? Like a psychopath? Like a serial killer? Absolutely not

106: Do you like bugs?

I do! Except for spiders and mosquitoes (although I’m warming up to spiders)

109: Can you draw:

Eh yeah ig, well enough. I draw realistically but I’m not great at animated style.

111: A question you hate being asked?

“Are you a boy or a girl?” (like why? does it personally affect you? are you planning on boning me? if not then buzz off)

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

Yes, but only at night when the beach is quiet. I’m not a huge fan of the beach during the day

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

Rainy or sunny. Don’t go givin me the clouds with none of the drizzle.

119: Favorite thing about a person:

Personality first and foremost. Humor and kindness. But physically; their smile and mannerisms.

120: Fruits or vegetables?

Veggies (or berries i like berries)

121: Something you want to do right now:

Run away... ahah. But in all honesty I would love to go mushroom foraging rn, or possibly go on an adventure. Maybe go put on clothing meant for an entirely different time period and run around Target idk.

123: Sweet or sour foods?

Definitely not sour I hate sour. Spoonfeed me wasabi, that I can handle. But if you make me eat a Warheads I will cry.

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

I personally have a lot of problems with the funeral industry, so I would rather not take up space and rot preservation chemicals into the earth. But if I had an interim tombstone with no body underneath, it would read “Live Laugh Love” bc ~irony~

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

that I’m very individualistic and stubborn

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

Yes absolutely, that’s what they’re there for.

134: Do you like roller coasters?

Do I like feeling like I’m about to full send through the crust of the earth and die? No. No I do not. (I am a simple person, I go to carnivals for the food and to feed off terror.) 139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

OH YEAH absolutely, I am a repressed gen z homosexual raised in a homophobic religious atmosphere, I am practically born with a therapist assigned to me.

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

Definitely good -_- unfortunately. Catch me bein the mom friend.

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

I prefer giving, but I am learning how to recieve.

144: What makes you angry

People who live their lives in willful ignorance despite the endless resources available to them and let that ignorance hurt others.

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

All of em. Gimme em all. I don’t like boys as much currently but I would still probably lay my life on the line for some.

147: Are you androgynous?

Yes. It’s more fluid than it is being in consistent limbo between masc and femme. Usually I’m androgynous but I often swing wildly between both ends of that socially perceived spectrum. 148: Favorite thing about yourself physically?

My hands or smile(product of bracesTM). But I have been told I have nice hands.

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

I am a very strong blend of wise and class clown. I can do em both, I can do em well, and I can do em whenever. I also care a lot about others but I don’t change myself to be accepted by them.

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

MLK Jr. --> I want to gain perspective on some of the current global issues. Jesus --> I’ve got a lot of questions for that dude. JRR Tolkien bc he’s incredible or Joan of Arc for the same reason

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

Ooh well, as a woman not many eras are desirable. But um probably either the 70s or Ancient Greece

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

YES. GIMME UR FINGERS > i meant that to sound much less threatening than it did but my statement still stands. 155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?

Yes it’s literally one of my favorite things to do. I hab empty lap. *pat pat* U may lay your head on it and watch Rilakkuma and Kaoru with me while I play with your hair. pls. 157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

Women..... That’s it. That’s the tweet.

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

That I am not a member of the alphabet mafia. (It’s not currently safe for me to come out) Now tell me *shines light in your face* who are your contacts?

164: Do you have long or short hair?

I have medium hair. It’s around the length of a bisexual bob or a good mullet.

165: Shortest/Longest your hair has ever been:

Shortest was a pixie cut, almost buzzed, amazing. Longest was to my butt and was literally the worst experience in existence. I shall to this day actively rebel against having hair like that again.

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religion?

Organized religion can suck it. You can’t organize your relationship with God, nor can you stick it into a little manmade box and pretend that you have the ability to create a perfect faith which others have to either follow or perish. It’s arrogant and damaging and hurtful and not at all what Christianity is supposed to mean.

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

I do. I think it’s important and something we need to think about. I do believe there is something after death, and I like to believe that my life has meaning. I think that questions of creation are important questions to ask and we can’t just ignore them.

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

Yes! It’s fun! Pretty colors!

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

Absolutely. And the ones I didn’t feel like answering I simply omitted.

#chaotic good #Q&A #I learned more about myself writing this #than you probably did reading it #pls feel free to continue asking questions #i probably have too many answers #i heard oversharing on the internet is #cool

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