#shaming people for growing pains is embarrassing behavior

[darkmacadamien]

Whumptober 2023, No. 1: Swooning + "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Sam rarely tackles during training, mostly because he wishes to avoid injuring his teammates. He knows how to throw a clean tackle, mind you, where his feet hit nothing but the ball, but accidents do happen, even in the world of professional football. So, most of the time, it's not really worth the risk.

But when it comes to Jamie Tartt… as per usual, he is proving to be the exception.

Sam is rarely like this— vindictive and needlessly aggressive. Hatred is not an emotion that comes naturally to him. And Sam knows that, in some ways, his current behavior is no better than Jamie's had been a year ago, because for all his faults, Jamie never got physical with anyone on the team besides Roy, and even then, Roy always initiated it.

But Sam can't help it. Maybe it's because the rest of the team is egging him on, clapping him on the back every time Jamie hits the ground. Or, perhaps, it's the silence from his coaches, who may not wholeheartedly approve but who are also pointedly averting their eyes. Or, he wonders, maybe it's because Jamie has taken every single tackle without a word of protest. Each time Sam sweeps his feet out from underneath him, Jamie springs back up without any of his usual theatrics, a determined tilt to his mouth.

In the back of his mind, where his most shameful thoughts live, it makes Sam a little angry, that he can't evoke a response out of Jamie like Jamie can out of him. He yearns for a hint of unease, or irritation, for Jamie to lash out and prove that he hasn't changed, that he's still the awful individual that made Sam question everything about himself last season.

Of course, things like these are never so simple; Jamie Tartt is such an expert at getting underneath other people's skin because he himself is largely unshakeable. Besides that, Jamie is unlikely to slip up while he's in such a precarious position with the rest of the team because, like all football players, he works better under pressure. So, in lieu of forcing Jamie into an embarrassing breakdown in the middle of training, Sam channels his frustrations into making sure Jamie spends more time flat on his back than he does standing.

And if Sam continues to take Jamie down harder and harder as training progresses, who will say anything to him? Jamie deserves a bit of rough handling, as he is sure everyone here would agree.

So when Sam sees another opportunity for a tackle, he doesn’t hesitate; he chases Jamie across the pitch at full tilt and throws his entire body into it, going straight for Jamie's ankles, completely disregarding the ball. Except this time, Jamie sees it coming (mostly because Sam had made no effort to pretend he was doing anything else), and he tries to dodge, twisting his hips sideways to avoid the sweeping arc of Sam's legs. He miscalculates minutely, feet slipping on muddy ground, and instead of clearing the tackle, his shin bone comes into direct contact with the toe of Sam's boot.

It's a hard collision, a product of Jamie's speed and Sam's weight, and it sends a wave of agony down Sam's toes through the arch of his foot.

Jamie yelps and goes flying, clipping his temple on the ground before he has time to catch himself with his hands. Sam winces at the audible thump, feeling the sticky beginnings of guilt growing in his abdomen. He can only imagine how badly that must've hurt Jamie; directly hitting bone is always painful, and though Sam doubts that he'd broken anything, there would be a nasty bruise. Jamie would be walking with a limp for several days, at the very least.

Coach Lasso blows his whistle, signaling a pause in training, and begins jogging across the field, Coaches Beard and Nate hot on his heels.

Sam stands up, ignoring his protesting foot, and shuffles over to his teammate, thrusting a hand out to help him up.

"Jamie," he says, "I am very sorry. Are you alright?"

Now that Sam can properly look at him, he notes that Jamie had landed in a very awkward position, with half of his face buried in soft grass and one arm tucked completely underneath him. More alarmingly, however:

He's not moving.

"Jamie?" Sam tries again, his voice pitching up in worry.

The coaches finally make it over to where Jamie is crumpled on the ground, and the rest of the team, sensing that something is amiss, follows closely behind, forming a loose circle around their downed player.

"What seems to be the problem here, fellows?" Coach Lasso asks, resting his hands carefully on his hips.

“Coach Lasso, I—” But Sam is unable to force the words past his frozen lips.

"Coach," Isaac barks. "He's not moving."

"Oh, man," Coach Lasso says, and kneels next to Jamie, turning him over. Half of his face is coated in soil, and his eyes are half-lidded, flickering intermittently.

"Hey, buddy," Coach Lasso says. "Can you hear me?"

No response. Jamie’s chest is still rising steadily, Sam is grateful to see, but it’s clear that the tumble had knocked him completely unconscious.

Sam begins to feel sick. Suddenly, he wonders why he thought this had been such a good idea.

"Oh, man," Coach Lasso repeats. "Hey, uh, Will? You mind grabbing the doctor right quick? Tell him we sort of have an emergency going down on the field right now."

Will takes off sprinting across the field, dropping the case of water bottles midway in his haste to reach the tunnel.

The pitch settles into silence while they wait for Will to return with the doctor. Coach Lasso brushes back the hair that had fallen into Jamie’s face in the fall, an odd tenderness to the motion.

"Maybe he's faking it," Colin suggests shakily.

As if summoned, Jamie suddenly jackknifes up from the ground, nearly knocking his forehead into Coach Lasso's. It frightens Colin nearly half-to-death, who jumps so hard he bumps both him and Isaac to the ground.

"Oh, thank god," Coach Lasso says. He snaps his fingers a few times in front of Jamie's eyes. From Sam’s viewpoint, they appear to be severely out of focus; his pupils are so large that only a small sliver of his iris is visible. "You with us, buddy? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Fourteen," Jamie moans, before turning over and vomiting onto the pitch. It’s mostly dry heaving, with hardly anything coming up, but it sounds and looks painful. Sam’s stomach cramps in sympathy.

“Not quite, kiddo,” Coach Lasso says, grimacing as he runs a hand soothingly along Jamie’s spine. Will arrives with the doctor a moment later, who kneels down on Jamie’s other side, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick.

“Hello, love,” she says. “Do me a favor, eh? Can you follow my finger?”

She holds her index finger up, tapping it a few times with her thumb to catch Jamie’s attention, before she carefully moves it to the left, and then to the right. Jamie’s eyes remain stubbornly unfocused, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, that’s a concussion. Can someone help me get him to the treatment room?”

Sam finds himself volunteering before he can think twice. “I will do it,” he says.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Coach Lasso says, his voice carefully neutral. He’s peering at Sam through his aviators, and Sam feels frozen by his gaze.

Though he doesn’t explicitly say it, Sam understands what is being implied perfectly. You’re the reason he’s like this.

Coach Lasso would never say that directly, of course—likely, he’d instead turn it into a very confusing life lesson, mixed with a personal anecdote that doesn’t exactly align with the current situation.

It leaves a nasty taste on Sam’s tongue, but not because he feels slighted; it’s because Coach Lasso is correct. “I will ensure he comes to no further harm,” Sam promises and squeezes between Coach Lasso and Jamie to hook an arm around his waist and hoist him up.

Jamie moans in protest, his knees buckling, and the doctor swoops in on his other side, catching him underneath his arms. “Alright then,” she says. “Let’s get going.”

The hobble to the treatment room is difficult and stilted, with Jamie limping and dizzy, but they make it, depositing Jamie gently on an examination table.

The doctor begins rifling through one of the many cabinets for elastic bandages to wrap and ice Jamie’s shin, and Sam steps back to hover awkwardly by the doorway. The doctor curses. “Looks like we’re all out of wrapping tape,” she says. “Keep an eye on him for a moment, will you?” she asks Sam, but she leaves the room before he can respond.

Not that he would’ve said no, of course.

Sam shuffles further into the room and uses the brief lapse in silence to take a closer look at Jamie, noticing for the first time his gaunt cheeks and the bags underneath his eyes. He looks much slimmer than Sam remembers, especially in his face and upper body. This could perhaps be attributed to his sudden departure from Manchester City and thus a subsequent lack of training, but Jamie had never struck Sam as an individual who deviated far from his workout plan. Furthermore, during his brief stint on Lust Conquers All, Jamie had looked as healthy as ever, with tan skin and broad muscles.

A far cry from the pale and drawn individual sitting in front of Sam now, though that had not been so long ago.

He looks awful. He’s looked awful ever since he rejoined the team, Sam realizes, now that anger is no longer clouding his judgment. Jamie Tartt had always been so much larger than life that Sam often forgot that, like everyone else, he was only flesh and blood.

The Jamie sitting in front of him is not the same Jamie that had taken great pleasure in pointing out all of Sam’s flaws. This Jamie seems like he would hardly take pleasure in anything at all.

Sam looks at Jamie, worn down and ragged, and wonders when he became the kind of person to kick someone while they were already down.

“Jamie,” Sam says, and Jamie flinches at the mention of his name. It sends a spear through Sam’s heart.

“I owe you an apology,” Sam tells him.

Jamie staunchly avoids his gaze, staring at a point on the floor instead. “S’alright,” he mumbles, picking at his cuticles. “Deserved it anyways. I was a prick t’you.”

“No, it is not alright. Though I am angry, and frustrated, I should have never resorted to physical violence.”

A muscle in Jamie’s jaw clenches. “I was a prick,” he repeats. “’Sides, it’s nothing I ain’t used to. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Sam gets the distinct feeling Jamie did not mean to say that last part, judging by the way he clenches his eyes shut. Sam wisely chooses to ignore it, filing the information away carefully for later.

“Even so, my actions were unacceptable. One wrong does not excuse another. I am truly sorry, Jamie.”

“All good, man,” Jamie says, kicking his feet. “M’sorry, too. For being such a dick last season, and relegating Richmond, like.”

Jamie sounds genuinely reticent, though he looks like a guilty child who’d been caught with his hand stuck down the cookie jar. It’s oddly endearing, Sam finds. He holds out a hand to Jamie as a peace offering.

Jamie takes it hesitantly and finally looks up to meet Sam’s eyes. “Thank you, my friend,” Sam tells him, and shakes his hand firmly. Jamie smiles, a small and shy thing, and it strikes Sam that he’d never seen Jamie smile like this before. It warms Sam’s heart, that Jamie would trust him with something so rare.

They stay there for a moment, basking in the easy silence, before Jamie’s face abruptly turns pale green. “Bucket, bucket, bucket,” he groans. Sam drops his hand like it’s on fire. “Oh, yes, of course,” he says, stumbling across the room to grab the trash bin, and he barely manages to shove it underneath Jamie’s chin before he’s vomiting again. Jamie spits some excess bile out of his mouth, coughing and spluttering, and rests his forehead on the edge of the bin clutched in his lap.

“You’re kind of scary sometimes, Obisanya,” Jamie says, sounding miserable.

Sam laughs at the absurdity of the statement. “You must be the only person who has ever told me that,” he tells Jamie.

“No, I’m serious,” Jamie whines. “You’re like those little fuzzballs that turn into monsters when you feed them after midnight.”

“Jamie, are you calling me a gremlin?”

“No!” Jamie immediately protests, before his face twists up in thought. “Well, yeah, actually.”

Sam cracks a grin, amused, and suddenly they’re both dissolving into a fit of laughter, Jamie clutching his midriff and Sam leaning on Jamie’s shoulder for balance.

Perhaps Jamie coming back had not been such a bad thing, after all.

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #swooning #“how many fingers am I holding up?” #ted lasso #fic #jamie tartt #sam obisanya #concussion #early season 2

[skyler10fic]

Rewiring: uncover the "why"

A difficult thing in trying to rewire negative self-talk is that we don't want to be ignorant of reality. "Let go of thoughts that are no longer serving you," the helpers say, but we have this fear that if we let go, we will be caught out again as we once were, unaware of how [insert negative thought here] we came off to others. The shame moment. The moment someone pointed out or we realized ourselves that we were Bad or Defective or Embarrassing in some way. Worthy of shame and ridicule. Maybe we even still hear the laughter or the looks of disgust or the tone of voice that pitied us, "oh. Oh. You don't know. You're [insert word here]."

And that identity-shaping ghost haunts us into adulthood, years or decades even later. Letting go of that self-talk is a risk, because it was a defense mechanism. We need to be aware, we need to be informed, we need to be in on the joke... so no one can surprise us with that pain again.

So we walk around into our 20s and 30s and 40s and older and older with that one person or group or community's voice in our heads as the one true self-assessment of our identity. All the while, we're changing and growing and evolving into different people ourselves, and it may not have been accurate in the first place.

But "just stop thinking that" will never get us there, not until we and our helpers become trauma-informed to root out that defense mechanism and thank it for protecting us but, with respect, we don't need it anymore.

Like KonMari for our brains, we don't just recognize that it doesn't give us joy, we don't just realize it isn't serving us anymore, but we recognize in gratitude the role it played to keep us safe once. Even as we clean it out, dispose of it, and close the bag so it doesn't end up back in our minds.

Healing comes through empathy and gentleness and self-compassion, but that isn't solely others-focused or a regimen or strict cognitive-behavioral discipline. It's respecting our past selves' logic and needs and dignity. Even as we form healthier patterns and ways of moving through our thoughts and emotions and, externally, through our community and world today and in the future.

#mental health #cognitive rewiring #negative self-talk #reframing #anti-cbt #anxiety #mental wellness #self-compassion #depression

[jimothy-hopkins]

Meddling Kids VII

WARNING! This work/series contains mentions of slut shaming, EDs, gore, implied torture, implied SA, SH, violence, and many other things that can trigger some viewers. I will also mention that this work does NOT intend to glorify, romanticize, normalize, or promote ANY of these behaviors or ideas. That is not who I am and that is not what I stand for. Please do not take that message away when you read this.

This is a Manhunt/Bully crossover. So expect the usual non family friendly shenanigans.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Edward seethed through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’s not like we can be a couple of girl scouts, Edward.” Sighed Jimmy as he fixed his tie.

Dressing up as a Mormon wasn’t on Jimmy’s to-do list. But here he was, in a stupid ass button-down with some ugly dress slacks cut much too high, exposing his socks underneath. For god’s sake, Pete even made him polish the top of his head. Jimmy swore it was brighter than his future. He turned over to Gary, who held a bible in hand.

“Mormons don’t even read the bible, dumbass,” Jimmy told him.

“Well, I’m not going out buying a Book of Mormon on my dad’s credit card,” Gary shot back, abruptly shutting the heavy book.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, looking over to Pete, who was busy trimming up the sides of his hair to make it nice and neat.

“Remember when we got in trouble for opening that barber shop in the bathroom?” Jimmy reminisced.

“Yeah, I caught you red-handed. Giving Casey Harris a mullet.” Edward scoffed.

“Oh, yeah, that was fun,” Chuckling, Pete stepped back, “are you guys ready to go?”

The group collectively agreed to head out, but only through the back entrance while everyone was attending class to save the embarrassment. Jimmy learned that lesson the hard way when he’d worn a pair of booty shorts and got clowned by at least ten people walking out of gym class. Never again, he thought.

Their journey first started in small suburbia. Gary took the lead of knocking on the first door, a cheery smile plastered on his cheeks like a demented Ken doll.

“Oh, hello, how may I help you?” The homeowner asked as she peered out from her house.

“Hello, ma’am! I’m here to offer you a few suggestions. We’ve heard that the community in Bullworth is tainted with sin and violence, and we’d like to change that!” Gary greeted.

She nodded along, Gary continuing his act.

“Here, I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends,” he nodded, “this young man here used to be violent. He enjoyed disrespecting his parents and playing vile video games. But by the power of God and restoration of his faith, he is now a perfect, well-rounded citizen!” Gary gloated as he pushed Pete forwards

Pete waved, a sheepish grin on his face.

“And these two young men used to suffer from homosexual thoughts and tendencies. But now they are picture-perfect real men!” Gary expressed with open arms.

Jimmy clenched his jaw, his fists in a tight white-knuckle grasp.

“Oh, dear, that is very good. But I don’t have any children. I’m quite fine.” The woman laughed before she closed the door.

A sigh left Gary as he turned, walking off the porch.

As soon as Gary came within range, Jimmy reeled his hand back and landed it hard on the back of the taller’s neck.

“OW! Watch it, Hopkins!”

“Take your advice,” Jimmy grumbled.

They continued their journey through the vast neighborhood of Bullworth. The dress shoes began to cause Jimmy pain. His toes had become bruised from continuously trekking around in dress shoes. Everyone else seemed equally as miserable, Gary growing more agitated as they passed home after home. Pete did his best to observe the interiors of the houses as lowkey as possible. Edward did his best to hide back in shame of their current situation, while Jimmy himself just stood and nodded like a daisy in the wind.

Everything was boring until Gary had the balls to approach a home with a very large ‘NO SOLICITING’ sign.

“Fuck does soliciting mean?” Jimmy turned his head to the side.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out,” Gary smirked as he pounded on the door.

The man who opened the door didn’t even give Gary a chance to speak before he started to scream.

Pete was the first to book it, then came Ed, and after followed Jimmy and Gary. Their shoes pounded against the sidewalk, almost racing like ill-bodied thoroughbreds at the Kentucky Derby. Fire crawled into Jimmy’s lungs and throat, forcing him to slow down. Not long after, Edward completely halted into a fit of asthmatic breathing and coughs. The other two joined them to catch their breath as well.

“Son of a bitch...” Edward wheezed after administering his inhaler.

“Watch your fucking language. We’re Mormons now..” Gary huffed humorously.

“Shut up..” The prefect grumbled, lifting his head.

After a short recovery, they aimlessly wandered New Coventry, shivering from the cold weather. How did missionaries do this all day? Jimmy sort of had a newfound respect for those morons. This shit was unbearable, especially in the winter weather of Bullworth, New York.

Instead of a new neighborhood, something else caught the group’s attention.

“Fuck you, Davis!” A sharp female voice yelled.

“Oh really? So that’s what you’re gonna say to me now? You can’t even give me a good reason!” A male tone bellowed.

The quartet crept closer to where the screaming match was. Peering into an alleyway, Silena Mariani and Davis White were busy biting each other’s heads off for what was probably the fifth time that day.

“I can’t sit here and listen to you talk shit bout my friends Davis! Those guys are like my family!” Silena defended.

“Family? Are you kidding me, Silena? Those guys are nothing but trouble!” Davis argued with his arms thrown in the air.

“Oh, like you’re a saint! You’re just as bad as them! I see the way you treat those freshmen, you dipshit!”

“And do you do anything about it? No! No, you fucking don’t!” Davis screamed, getting in the girl’s face.

“Get outta my face!’ she’d scream, stepping forward to make Davis step back.

“Then get outta the clique Silena!”

“No! They’re good people! They’re good friends!”

“Good people don’t go to jail Silena!’ Davis screamed over her.

The girl fell silent before she lunged and snatched her boyfriend by the throat in a rage.

Jimmy and Edward quickly ran out from where they hid, prying the couple away from each other.

“Woah! Chill out! Chill out!’ Jimmy demanded, dragging Silena a few feet away from Davis and Edward.

“You take it back!” Silena screamed, hitting Jimmy as he restrained her.

“What is this even about?” Edward asked.

‘What’s this about? Oh, I’ll tell ya! Her deadbeat side piece Johnny got arrested!” Davis yelled.

“He is NOT-” Silena started.

“Wait, Johnny got arrested?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah, last night.” Davis nodded.

“Do you know why?”

“Pft, I couldn’t care less. Why don’t you ask Peanut? I’m sure he knows all about it.” Davis droned, wrestling out of Edward’s grasp and walking off.

Well, at least they knew who to look for.

Jimmy let Silena go, walking over to the other two who had spectated the altercation.

“That was intense,” Pete stated, following Jimmy as he went on a mentally mapped route.

“You tell me, she throttled him like a ragdoll,” Gary laughed wickedly.

“How are abusive relationships funny to you?” Edward asked.

“How is doing coke and throwing up all you eat good for your health” Gary retorted.

Edward didn't say anything else after that.

After tons more walking, they were where they needed to be, the tenements. And, of course, lo and behind, Peanut Romano was outside bawling his little eyes out. As Jimmy approached, he noticed just how messy the greaser looked. His hair was stringy and dry, his shoes were scuffed, and his jacket carelessly sat on his shoulders. Jimmy had never seen any of the greasers in such a state. Well, besides Ricky when he was howling over his ex-girlfriend.

“Oh, what do you want, Jimmy?..” Wailed Peanut as he lifted his head to reveal a red, puffy face.

“Look, I’m not here to laugh at you. I just wanna know, did Johnny get arrested last night?” The ginger asked.

“Yes!” The greaser sobbed out.

“Woah, hey, it’s alright. Do you know what happened?”

“N-no, I don’t. All I knew was that Johnny and Norton were goin’ out to get us all some dinner for the night, and Lola got a call late last night from the county jail.” He explained through sniffles and pitiful cries.

“Alright, hey Edward?’ Jimmy turned his head.

“Yes?’ The prefect answered.

“Can you go talk to Lola for me?”

Edward nodded, stepping away to go down to the Vale. It wasn’t a secret that Lola and Pinky were seeing one another, for him at least. It was like a clear shower curtain almost. Edward could tell when two people had some serious chemistry. The perk of being in way too many relationships and flirtationships.

He shivered and sighed. A car or a jacket would be a lifesaver against this harsh and brutal weather. This whole missionary idea was humiliating and stupid. No wonder those boys were called the Trouble Trio. That’s all they seemed to get into lately. These little adventures wouldn’t have a good outcome in the future if anything could stain his permanent record.

With a polite knock at the Gauthier estate, Edward was allowed inside.

The tall male trailed up the stairs, politely stopping at a pink door.

“Pinky, Lola. I know you’re there. We need to talk.” Edward said.

Footsteps shuffled behind the door, and Pinky herself opened it. Lola was seated on the large, ornately decorated bed in the center of the room.

“It’s about Johnny,”

“Oh, you heard?” The redhead perked up.

“Yes. What happened?”

“Well, Johnny said he was going out to get some pizza with Norton. And when they were making their way back, a bunch of psychos jumped them. When the cops rolled by, the crackheads dipped. And they got arrested instead.” Lola explained while she painted her nails.

“Ok, thank you, That’s all I needed to know. Have a nice day.” Edward nodded, exiting the doorway and going down the hall to a landline.

He quickly dialed Jimmy’s number, and within two rings, he picked up.

“Pinky?”

“No, it’s me, Edward.”

“What are you doing over there?”

“I know things.”

“Ok? Well, did you get anything?”

“Yeah, they were getting food down by that pizza parlor. You may want to check that out,” Edward suggested.

“Noted, cya.”

“Bye.”

Edward hung up, sighing as he started to travel back on foot.

Nothing came of the pizza parlor search, which disappointed the group. Had they all run around looking like a bunch of Mormons in tit-freezing weather for nothing?

Well, sort of.

Pete had come up with the idea to ask Max, as he would know about arrests. The guy was obsessed with law and order. Although, this idea was once again much to Edward’s dismay. The former prep whined as they again walked to where they could find Max, where he stood guard near the gymnasium.

“Max!” Pete called.

The brunette snapped his head over and immediately marched in their direction. Ed bit his tongue as the other prefect came to a robotic halt.

“Yes sir?”

“We need your help. Do you know anything about how Johnny and Norton got arrested?”

“Negative, sir.” Max lied. Edward could tell.

It pissed him off.

“Quit lying, MacTavish.” Edward seethed.

“Excuse me?” Max turned.

“You’re lying right to his face. I can see it!”

“I’m not lying! I have no reason to lie!”

“Oh really? Cause every time something doesn't add up you always bite your lip.”

“What are you on? Drugs?! You know you can go around accusing anyone all day, but it’s never going to change the fact that you’re a manwhore.” Max sneered.

“Again, with the slut-shaming! You can barely talk, Max! When was the last time you had a girlfriend? Oh, right, never. Because you’re always someone’s little bitch waiting to take orders!” Edward snapped.

“Fuck off!”

“Gladly!”

The trio sat, blinking as both prefects stormed off.

Back to the drawing board.” Gary sighed.

#bully scholarship edition #bully canis canem edit #bully anniversary edition #bully rockstar #canis canem edit #bully cce #bullworth academy #gary smith #jimmy hopkins #jimmy bully cce #gary smith cce #pete kowalski #edward seymour ii #pinky gauthier #peanut romano #lola lombardi #johnny vincent #norton williams #meddling kids

[jessicafurseth]

Reading List, Participation edition.

"Joy demands something of us. It requires us to participate. To pay attention. To find beauty in darkness. To be awe-struck in otherwise mundane moments. To celebrate what is in front of us." Anna Brones

[Image by Equal Parts]

*

"Which digital rhythms are we actively following because they make us feel good, and which are we entrained to? Entrainment, a term that originated in biology and then spread to the social sciences, refers to the alignment of an organism’s physiology or behavior with a cycle; the most familiar example would be our circadian rhythm. ... Letting go of one overwhelming rhythm, you invite the presence of others. Perhaps more important, you remember that the arrangement is yours to make." What Social Media Does to Our Sense of Time [Jenny Odell, The New York Times]

"Perhaps, looking back, we should consider “millennial cringe” as less of an embarrassing phase we’d rather forget and more like the last gasp of what humor on the internet looked like before it became impossible to keep up with it." Towards a unified theory of millennial "epic bacon" humour [Rebecca Jennings, Vox]

“The CIA ... encourage most officers to have a social-media presence because, quite frankly, it’s a red flag and it looks strange if you don’t. You’ve got to blend in and look normal. I would argue that some of the Gen Z–and-younger folks, their networks are so huge online, it’s almost a blessing. You can’t figure out who their close friends are because they’re friends with everybody. It almost negates the exposure.” The CIA Is Trying to Recruit Gen Z—and Doesn’t Care If They’re All Over Social Media [Jessica Goldstein, Washingtonian]

"What if some of the things people describe as mental disorders are purposeful, not pathological?" Evidence grows that mental illness is more than dysfunction [Justin Garson, Aeon]

Patrick Burleigh entered puberty at age two. It was ... a lot. [The Cut]

"We need strength and energy to live with illness; reducing my workload gave me the reserves I needed not just to live with chronic pain, but to begin on the path towards recovery from it." Permission to recover [Gavin Francis, Wellcome Collection Stories]

I for one found the Netflix documentary about Prince Harry and Meghan illuminating, but among British columnists, even the ones who sympathise with Meghan for the racist bullying still can't help but point out how annoying they find her. As the documentary points out, being Black was a big part of what Meghan did "wrong" - but another is that's she's American. Here's a comment piece that actually articulates what that means [Charlotte Kilpatrick, The New Statesman] 

"Augit means to be able to stay with the good bit of your life. To stay with the good augit is to find the good in an experience.” Lessons from my dying therapist [Phoebe Greenwood, The Guardian]

A Month in a Tuscan Villa Didn’t Fix My Burnout [Alanna Bennett, The Cut]

On Raising Teenagers [Rachel Cusk, The New York Times]

"In any relationship, there is an expectation of privacy. There is also an expectation of respect. Violate the latter and you relinquish your right to the former." My boyfriend, a writer, broke up with me because I’m a writer This story by Isabel Kaplan in The Guardian is spectacular. So is this response to the story by Rachel Connolly, in Slate: "It can feel embarrassing to admit how attached we are to situations and people that we know are not serving us well. Mortifying to admit the extent of our agency in desire, and how much of ourselves we willingly give in the hope of getting something that is valuable to us back in return. Shameful to acknowledge that a degrading situation was one we chose. But then, so many commonplace, even definitional facets of the human experience do feel deeply humiliating." 

Time Has Run Out for the Leap Second. The fascinating story of how we're disposing of the leap second, and thereby severing the "the timekeeping of atoms from the timekeeping of the heavens". [Alanna Mitchell, The New York Times]

"I stood over the table, sending this photo of fresh ripe tomatoes and bonito and razor clams out to a paltry few hundred viewers, watching and waiting for the twenty-four hours to pass, when the story would disappear. I looked for meaning in it, and in the hundreds of other images that flooded my screen and filled my brain, of other meals and of make-up routines and dancing teenagers and neo-fascist marches and runway shows and old churches and drone strikes. I looked for meaning and all I thought was ‘Soon, I will die’." A History of the Culinary Selfie [Huw Lemmey, Vittles]

#reading list

[today3467h]

Obesity — A Major Problem Of The Youngsters

Along with a lot of diseases and health-related issues in the young generation of today, increased fat and obesity have grabbed their place completely among all. Obesity can be described as the worst visible disease which causes access to fats in the human body leading to various kinds of health-related issues and also a sort of embarrassment in society.

If you are among those people who sit and eat a lot of high-calorie food and do not do any sort of active work like exercising running or yoga then you are soon going to be under the Trap of obesity.

When The Mass Index of a human body becomes 25 or more in case of obesity. Body mass index can be said to be a measurement derived from a person’s height and weight and BMI is believed to be a simple calculation to know your weight.

Obesity can easily occur in anyone even in a child of two years. Consuming too much and moving too little is an exact definition of obesity.

The complexion of disease is just not limited to the external appearance of a person’s body but obesity in the long run does not take a lot of time to create a series of problems for you like diabetes cholesterol issue kidney damage blood pressure and even cancer which can lead to to death.

Most of the Bachelor youngsters of today are obese because of insufficient healthy diet bad

environment and basic Lifestyle choices are very poor of them. Moreover, it is also different on Genetics mental health, and hormonal changes of a person. But obesity is not a thing that cannot be cured.

If someone takes care of very few basic things in their life then they can easily cut the trap and get rid of it easily. Doctors’ medical help and behavioral choices can easily help in this.

Signs and Symptoms of Obesity

• In most cases, obese people are seen to have a mass index of more than 20.

• Pain can occur in joints and back regions while moving or bending.

• Overweight

Enlarged tummy

• Unrestrained eating

• Difficulty in breathing

• Poor sleep

• Skin allergies

• Snoring

When to seek medical attention for obese ones?

People looking forward to a healthy life would be concerned for their health and regularly visit a doctor. But, if you face bench eating and excess cravings which have resulted in.

For some weight loss in a concise term period then you should visit your doctor once for a planned lifestyle and see if anything is wrong.

What causes lead to obesity?

There are various factors on which weight gain depends. The body’s metabolism and teenage hormonal secretion have a great impact on the weight of a person. However in simple words, if you are not at all active in your life and do not burn your calories in any way, you may be among overweight people.

Here are the major risk factors of obesity

Major risk factors include the following.

• Family history and genetics

• Excess alcohol consumption

• Irregular and poor pattern of your sleep steroids and beta blockers

• No exercise motivation in life

• Eating a high-calorie diet and high-calorie beverages

• Lack of consumption of healthy foods and fruits

• Growing age

• Pregnancy automatically leads to weight gain in a woman.

• Stress and anxiety in work life

Complications associated with obese people

Obese people have I’m a very high chance of developing severe health problems which can lead to death.

• Diabetes

• Digestive bacterial disease

• Heart disease

• Abnormal cholesterol levels which can often lead to strokes

• Sleep apnea

• Inflammation conditions like osteoarthritis

• High blood pressure

• Fatty liver and another liver disease

• Depression

• Embarrassment and Shame in the society

• Social isolation

• Low — confidence and disability to perform any kind of tasks.

Precautional measures to prevent obesity –

• Exercise regularly no matter what

• Eat Fresh green leafy vegetables whole-grain foods and dried fruits

• If you want to eat fast foods a lot then learn the cheat meal diet.

• Weight loss medications can be consumed but with the least side effects

How do doctors diagnose obesity?

Following tests and examinations are generally performed by the doctors-

• Heart rate check-up

• Blood pressure and Pulse rate checkup

• Abdomen test

• Cholesterol level checkup

• Thyroid check

• Liver check

• Diabetes check-up

How to treat obesity?

Treatment Procedure: For obesity treatments, Healthcare professionals easily help you with certain necessary Lifestyle changes and medications.

Remember, the goal is to stay and maintain a healthy weight not to become underweight.

A dietitian and trainer can easily help you out.

Cut down calorie intake from your daily food consumption by eating a calorie but protein-full diet. Women are preferred to consume not more than 1500 calories a day and men are

preferred not to consume more than 1800 calories per day.

Deserts and processed foods should be replaced with healthier options like frozen mangoes, fruits, yogurt, and chocolate bites.

• Limit sugar sweet and beverages and high carbohydrate foods

• Have low–calorie shakes and meal bars

• Exercise and practice cardio

• Endoscopic sleep gastroplasty procedure

• Intragastric balloons

• Gastric bypass surgery

Read More:-

#health & fitness #healthyfood #fitness #yoga #gym #workout #exercise #nutrition

[randomlycynical]

Lent

Every year, I often find myself looking forward to Lent, even craving it.

I feel like in the weeks or months that lead up to Lent, I inevitably get stuck in the same rut, somehow. All of my addictions and compulsions always seem to reach a critical mass at around the time before, as I gorge myself with video games and other bad habits.

Lent to me has always seemed like the chance at a reset. I’ll put aside my bad habits, my obsessions and compulsions, and I’ll read so many books, do so much writing, be much more calm and at peace.

But Lent, I think, is supposed to be less about giving up a specific thing and more of an opportunity to really slow down and reflect on your life. I wonder how closely I’ve lived up to that idea in all of the Lents I’ve gone through. How often was it that in giving something up, I really just filled it in with something else, yet another thing to wrap my mind around?

Because I often find that without my various habits, my mind craves distraction more than anything else. And I think this past year has made me really start to understand that distractions, which obsessions and compulsions are a subset of, are ways to avoid confronting the deeper issues. The really messy, painful, scary problems. OCD, in fact, numbed me from having to think about anything more serious than surface level things. I was, and still am, trying to clog my pipes, distract my anxious mind, with endless trash, so that things like fear can’t get through. But the problem with that is, fear might be kept at bay, but so does real, genuine emotion.

I’ve realized that for so much of my life, I’ve been numb, scared and unwilling to feel things largely and proudly, because I’m so deathly afraid of the consequences.

I want this year’s Lent to be different. I want to give up, fast and sacrifice, yes, but along with that, I want to gain something, too: perspective. I want to see things for what they really are now that the distractions are out of the way for this brief period in time, these short 40 days. I don’t want to simply give something up. I want to use this opportunity to really sit with myself and to understand and to change and to grow — even though it feels like to do that is like sitting on hot coals.

So what is the issue? What is the real issue, deep down, once you wipe away all of the superficial excuses? What is the explanation behind all of my behaviors and compulsions? The reasons why I want to be writer and well known, famous? The reasons why I wanted to be an educator in the first place?

The truth of the matter is, I’m so lonely. I feel so scared and alone. I crave and desperately yearn for connection, real, genuine connection of any kind. The saddest part of this is that I’m so scared of that, too. So often I’m unsure whether my fear of being alone outweighs my fear of other people, outweighs my desire for connection. I want to connect with other people, to feel like I’m part of something larger than myself — but I’m scared that I’m too unwilling to make that leap and to be brave and to really connect with others and take with it all that comes: messiness, discomfort, uncertainty, embarrassment.

I mourn the fact constantly that the two realest, deepest friendships I’ve ever had have all gone away. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over this, and part of me thinks that I never will, and that I just have to live with this fear of abandonment, this trauma, this grief, with no resolution. That I have to just carry the weight of all of this shame and guilt and regret. I know the attempt is all, and I want to say that I’ve really tried to build real friendships in the time since, put in a real effort, but nothing has ever seemed like it was enough. I have friends, people who care about me, but have I ever been really willing to go further than the surface? To really challenge them, and myself, and our friendship, to get to something deeper and more genuine, even though the possibility of abandonment is so high?

My desire to be a writer, my desire to be famous — it’s all a cry for connection, a desperate bid to escape loneliness. To be located in a community, to be cared for, looked after, really recognized — perhaps not in a world-famous kind of way, but in a way that really matters to me. A way that feels earned and true.

And so, as I make no attempt to connect, I’m left feeling jealous and resentful at those who are more successful and well-known than I am, knowing full well that they’ve earned it and only got so far to where they are now by building those connections, nurturing them, maintaining them, challenging them. No one, in fact, gets successful on their own. The myth of the singular man is just that: a myth. It takes coalition building, a support system, a network of people who are rooting for you. Those are the things you don’t see behind every famous or successful person. And unless I have those things, I will never achieve any form of renown, not in any way that truly matters, much less than that on a national or global scale.

Because all of those things require you to be vulnerable, to take chances, risks. To break out of complacency and to tell yourself that you want and demand and expect more for yourself and from yourself. And I’m just too scared to do that, too resigned as I am to my own low self-worth, to my inability to be a better person and to improve. I hold too dim a view of myself, and that’s the truth.

I’ve been brought to the realization that what I want isn’t in fact world fame, but fame of a more localized kind. If I nurture the connections and friendships I have, really invest in them, I could reap those benefits. I could do away with all delusions of success and grandeur. I know that I need to take that first, scary step. I know what I lack — and I want to face that head on, need to face that head on.

But maybe I could do away with all of those delusions right now. That’s all that they are: shadows. I don’t need to have anything or to be anything, in fact. I never really have had to. But all my life I’ve had this pressure to be the best. But things can be enough, they have to be enough — they are enough. They are. They are, they are, they are.

I just have to be here, right now. I don’t have to be anywhere else. Not in the past or the future. I am here, right now. Fasting, and hopeful in the present.

[bandofchimeras]

I often want to delete this blog and my entire life up to now bc of shame.

today I asked myself where it comes from, this shame.

it comes from being ignored or not interacted with, that interaction lessening as I spiral, it is a feedback loop. I feel like my illusion of control is slipping as people scroll by or unfollow, like I'm beyond help.

being online has just been one long fear driven cry for help since I joined social media as a tween.

I no longer believe people should, or want them to rescue me. I do not let myself indulge in resentment anymore, that's a fast track to inceldom.

but growing in that way left this gap - obviously the part that is angry and resentful about being overlooked is stuck in the past, and there are therapies available to help them - but i don't know how to relate to my past now.

many people overlooked, left, neglected, or didn't intervene or indulged in their own discomfort and told themselves I'd be fine.

my mind searches for a reason, and finds my own symptoms, behaviors, attitude.

forgiveness of them seems tied to self blame.

and forgiveness of myself to blaming them.

then it hit me, I am stuck back there trying to find compassion for people who were simply comfortable letting me be the bad kid, the loser, the weirdo.

I believe with the exception of occasional kind souls, people let other people stay where they are, because it's "nobody's business." you have to put yourself out there, you have to ask for help, and be insistent, to get help. if you're not okay, and you just follow all the rules anyways or act out in harmful ways, there is neglect or punishment. it's either "you're fine" or "you're on a bad path" because the goal is not actual love or care, it's maintaining a system.

In my household abuse and neglect were normal.

My needs, thoughts and desires did not matter, or could not matter bc my parents were fixated on surviving and presenting an image to the world. they did try their best, but they were operating out of their own insecurities. they were operating best they could and defining all of us by our skills and accomplishments.

and what I've been grieving all along is that most people define themselves naturally, by where they come from. but where I came from, I didn't feel myself exist. I was a non-entity.

My parents only related to what they wanted to see in me.And I kept finding more and more people who acted the same. And acting the same to other people. It's fucked my life up a lot. It's a state of denial.

What I value, the way I operate, my presence and true desires - I have to fight for these things, and put myself out there now.

There is no real healing for the mental wound of knowing people let other people slip through the cracks than to become someone strong, loving and full of healthful rage, who refuses to let myself slip any further. Who can lend a hand and not watch people spiral silently and judgementally.

So yeah, I still have a lot of anger at being invisible. I still have ego delusions about proving my worth by being the best and brightest or finally seeming normal or funny or passionate.

When you're cluster B diagnosed, to me it's a code for a spiritual misunderstanding. That most people who find joy and meaning in their life really do what lights them up, and forget the rest. And the anger, the resentment comes from the pain of not knowing your true Self, and all the ways you run your head into the wall trying to figure out an image of who that is.

When the whole point is the Self is beyond, under, the image. It's just existing. And defining your existence by existing, and doing shit and not collapsing in fear every time you try something that violates the suffocating little boxes people put each other in while trying to navigate the world.

Tumblr was where I made my most embarrassing social blunders back in the day so when I get back on here it feels like there's something to prove. But the thing I genuinely love about this site now is that there really isn't. It's people just hanging out.

Anyways that's character count for today 😝🤙 I'm not gonna delete my social media, just do more shit IRL and care less.

#orchid speaks

[pornaddictionsymptoms]

What Are The Early Warning Signs Of Porn Addiction?

Porn addiction is a serious problem that can have devastating consequences. If you or someone you love is struggling with an addiction to porn, it's important to be aware of the early warning signs. This blog post will explore some of the most common early warning signs of porn addiction. If you recognize any of these signs in yourself or someone you know, don't hesitate to seek help. Porn addiction is a treatable condition and there is hope for recovery. Thanks for reading!

A growing interest in pornography, including more time spent viewing it and seeking out new material

Pornography has become an increasingly popular topic of conversation in recent years. An increased amount of people are devoting more time to viewing pornography, raising questions about how this increased exposure may be impacting individuals and society as a whole. Various studies have revealed that while some may find it beneficial in terms of education, acceptance, and personal expression, others believe that the widespread proliferation of pornography can lead to desensitization or exploitation. As interest in pornographic material grows, so does the discussion about its effects on our collective consciousness. It's clear that there is much disagreement surrounding the idea of pornography; nevertheless, it appears that no matter the opinion or perspective, appreciation for the subject matter will continue to flourish at an accelerated rate.

Withdrawal from friends and family members, as well as other activities that were once enjoyed

Withdrawal from friends, family members, and activities that were once enjoyed can be a sign of trouble, but it can also act as a natural defense mechanism. During periods of emotional uncertainty or stress, cutting off contact with others may feel like the easier option. People often create barriers to prevent themselves from feeling pain and shifting their focus onto something else. It's important to assess all causes before labeling one's behavior as depression or anxiety because withdrawal can sometimes indicate that an individual needs time to process their emotions and regain balance. With the right kind of support, withdrawal can be short-term and lead to healing - enabling the person to reclaim their sense of self and engage with people around them in meaningful ways once again.

Lying or keeping secrets about one's pornography use

Many people feel ashamed or embarrassed, to be honest about their pornography use, but there are some distinct dangers associated with lying or keeping secrets on the subject. It can deprive individuals of the opportunity to ask for help if they find themselves struggling with an unhealthy level of porn consumption. It can also lead to a lack of trust when it happens in a relationship, as partners become aware of the deception and feel hurt by it. Furthermore, cheating and infidelity related to one’s porn use can completely erode relationships. To avoid this and ensure healthy communication, it's best to be open and honest about pornography use without judgment or shame.

Difficulty controlling impulses or stopping the behavior despite negative consequences

Impulse control can be a challenge for many of us, as it's hard to stop doing something that has become a habit, even if we know it will have negative consequences. Continually making the same mistake and being unable to break the cycle can leave us feeling powerless and frustrated. In order to gain back control over our impulses, we need to make sure we are addressing the issue on multiple levels: recognizing and acknowledging our patterns of behavior, deep diving into why we may find ourselves unable to stop a certain action or behavior, increasing our mindfulness and awareness, and challenging ourselves with positive constructive choices. With persistent effort and dedication toward understanding ourselves better, gradually yet steadily, we can start gaining control over unhelpful impulsive behaviors.

Feeling depressed, anxious, or hopeless after viewing pornography

Pornography can have a powerful emotional effect even if you don't consider yourself an overly sensitive person. After viewing pornography it is common to feel powerless, hopeless and depleted. This erosion of self-worth can lead to an overall feeling of depression since our sense of identity has been clouded by pornographic imagery. To prevent this cycle, it is important to monitor ourselves on a regular basis and be mindful of any feelings of guilt or worthlessness that arise after viewing pornography. Paying attention to our own emotions will help us recognize when we need to take a pause and take responsibility for easing our pain by looking at healthier options for dealing with life's difficulties in the future.

Neglecting work or school responsibilities in favor of looking at porn

Neglecting work or school responsibilities in favor of looking at porn can not only be detrimental to one's personal career, but it can also lead to problems in interpersonal relationships. While watching porn may provide short-term gratification and pleasure, the long-term effects of neglecting important tasks and obligations can be far more serious and damaging. Ignoring the tasks that should take priority for the sake of viewing adult material not only belittles one's sense of responsibility, but it also takes away valuable time that could have been spent more productively elsewhere. Porn addiction is a very real problem, and if left unchallenged it could have serious consequences for an individual’s professional success as well as their domestic life.

Pornography can be highly addictive and can ultimately lead to the loss of relationships and other negative outcomes. Going beyond just viewing, people who become addicted to pornography may experience withdrawal symptoms including depression, anxiety, and hopelessness. In order to avoid the many detrimental consequences that come along with pornography use, it is important to recognize potential addiction early on before it gets out of hand. Limiting internet usage or setting boundaries around what type of material is acceptable can be helpful in preventing it from becoming a larger problem. As always, it's important to talk with family or friends if you fear that you may be addicted to pornography. There are resources available for those who are struggling so don't hesitate to reach out for help.

[tautokomai]

How Far Can Despair and Depression Take a Victim of Child Sexual Abuse?

Depression and despair are two emotional conditions that can totally break apart the life and future of a victim of child sexual abuse. The question of how far can victims go in inflicting pain onto themselves is quite difficult to deal with but no matter how harsh the truth is, we have to know it to prevent it from happening again. sexually assaulted hamilton

Depression is the totality of negative feelings victims feel as a consequence of the sexual abuse they received as a child. While most of the signs of depression do not surface right after the experience, there's always a great chance that the same will manifest as the victims grow older.

The reason why most child sexual abuse survivors feel depressed and despaired is because they failed to deal with it before. Most of them choose to keep the experience to themselves for the fear of retaliation, embarrassment, and shame. They were able to live a life of denial - secretly hiding the fact that they have been truly hurt, both physically and mentally. By not getting any help from other people including family and experts, they unknowingly build up several negative attitudes and behavior. sexual abuse helpline

In a short period of time, victims begin to realize that they need help. However, the hope of recovering and healing seemed to be unfeasible anymore considering that a great amount of time has passed. And because of that, the only thing that they can practically do is get depressed. As they suffer from a great amount of despair and hopelessness, they realize that their lives are not worth it.

There are several reasons why children fail or just avoid dealing with the sexual abuse at the very time it happened. As a natural way of responding to the traumatic experience, they may elect to keep it a secret because of certain emotions such as disbelief and shame. As much as they want to, they seem to be totally hesitant in asking for help since disclosing it may very well worsen what they already feel. have I been assaulted

As the worse comes to worst, a deep level of depression and despair can finally result to self-inflicted injury and physical symptoms. We know for a fact that there are several effects of child sexual abuse. Some are minor while most result to major long term medical and psychological consequences. For instance, severe cases of depression and despair can lead to eating disorders, panic attacks, substance and alcohol abuse, personality and behavioral problems, and even suicidal tendencies. ptsd sexual abuse

Now if any of these effects surface, there's a good chance that the victims' health and life are put risk. At this point, it is very sad and unfortunate to see that they suffer the most, considering that they should've been taken care of right after the sexual abuse happened. So if we ask ourselves again, how far can a victim go with the feeling of despair and desperation? At this particular type of condition, they may be capable of hurting, much more, killing themselves.

[bgallen]

Octobers, J.M. Barrie, Burn the Ballroom, and a few others

I adamantly agree with L.M. Montgomery, “I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” It always seems as though October is a nice lulling month, beginning quite warm and just easing into cooler weather. Octobers in MS tend to be pretty dry, currently though we only have 12 counties with a burn ban. And since October is when MS has the State Fair, I’m including some pictures from last year. 

This week I do have more of a “post” than a list, if you have no desire to read the post section, you can skip down to the list aspect. As always, may you enjoy your weekend and may it bring you peace, rest, and joy!

 I started Brené Brown’s book Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience this week, well actually I am restarting it from a few months ago. I am of the type of reader where I find it almost impossible not to underline and take pictures of passages and write asterisks and exclamation points around things I want to remember. And I think that when I am done with this book, it will be mostly marked up, I am greatly enjoying it so far. There was a particular passage that I read the other day that I found profound. Brené is writing about her past research into shame resilience, when she and her team asked participants to list all the emotions that they could recognize and name as they were experiencing them. Over the span of multiple years and over 7,000 people the average number of emotions that came through were: happy, sad, and angry. Of the myriad of emotions that we experience, these were the ones people could identify. Brené goes on to say, “What about shame, disappointment, wonder, awe, disgust, embarrassment, despair, contentment, boredom, anxiety, stress, love, overwhelm, surprise, and all of the other emotions and experiences that define what it means to be human?” 

And then, she wrote this passage that was an “aha” moment for me. “Imagine if you had a shooting pain in your left shoulder that was so severe it actually took your breath away. The pain kept you from working, sleeping, and fully engaging in your life. When you finally arrive at the doctor’s office and she asks what’s going on, there’s suddenly tape over your mouth and your hands are tied behind your back. You try yelling through the tape and freeing your hands so you can point to your shoulder, but there’s no use. You’re just there - inches and minutes from help and possible relief – but you can’t communicate or explain the pain. I would imagine in that situation most of us would either fall to the floor in despair or fling ourselves around the room in an uncontrollable rage. This is not that different from what can happen to us when we are unable to articulate our emotions. We feel hopeless or we feel a destructive level of anger.” 

Which leads me to think of how my sister and I use the J.M. Barrie quote about Tinkerbell to describe children, “Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.” Children, especially toddlers, who are learning language are not able to convey their growing needs to those around them in language which results in a lot of tantrums and outbursts. Which is understandable, being misunderstood at any age can be defeating and infuriating. 

All of that to say…what I have been pondering since I read the passage is this: if most adults still can only recognize three emotions as they are happening could that not be the antecedent for a great deal of negative situations? When a four-year-old temper tantrum that is never given a full understanding of their emotions one day turns into an adult berating a store clerk - or worse? Are they not caused by the same lack of understanding of ourselves and how to communicate that to others around us in a healthy way? Please do not misunderstand me, in no way am I excusing bad behavior, at all. I just wonder if perhaps it is more nuanced than we admit to. I am still working through what this looks like in my own life and in how I deal with others, although I do think that it allows for more grace, more benevolence in our interactions with people. And perhaps it is also a challenge to learn how to correctly name an emotion when an experience arises. Too often in my head I say, I’m so angry, when in actuality I am inconvenienced that a situation is not working out how I anticipated it to - or felt that it should. If you have any ideas about this, please let me know - I would appreciate hearing them. 

Now for the list! 

Burn The Ballroom - Calm Down - YouTube, Spotify recommended this song and I have had it on repeat all day. From their website: BTB blurs the lines between anthem, rock, punk, alt, and pop music. 

"The Java Jive" (Ink Spots, 1940) - YouTube, Apparently September 29th was National Coffee Day and October 1st was World Coffee Day. Whatever that actually means, I enjoy, celebrating coffee any time I can. Here’s a fun song from the fabulous Ink Spots. 

How Do Hummingbirds Survive Snow and Cold Weather? - Birds and Blooms, did you know that the most significant trigger for birds to migrate south is the length of daylight? Fascinating!

"O Grande Amor" Stan Getz, Gary Burton, Steve Swallow, Roy Haynes.1966 featuring Steve Swallow - YouTube, perhaps because it showed up on an Autumn playlist, but this does seem like a great Autumn song. 

Island of the Sea Wolves | Official Trailer | Netflix - YouTube, “Where the vast Pacific meets the wilderness of Canada lies a mysterious island, shrouded in mist and cloud, protected by some of the most violent seas in the world.” 

Stalogy Translucent Sticky Notes - Grid - 50 mm | JetPens,these are translucent sticky notes so that you can “write” on books without writing on them. Such a great idea, the lined paper is completely out but if you like the grid - it is still available.

#weekendpost #music #photography #thoughts #fridaypost #thinking #statefair #weekend #autumn #happy #joy #peace #themoreyouknow

[kafksaesque]

thoughts on love, being loved, abuse, and healing

i have always had an odd relationship with all types of love. perhaps it was growing up neurodivergent, maybe the specific environment i grew up in, i’m not sure. my love for my family, my relatives, was all conditional, something i never tend to see reflected in my peers. my love for my friends tends to feel more similar to how others describe familiar love rather than just platonic love. i always felt like i loved people faster than normal, stronger than normal. this combined with the environment i grew up in was practically devastating to my young brain. i know i have not recovered from it all.

at first, i fell for my mother’s fake love. she would tell me her slaps were not hard enough to be abuse, that all parents do that, it’s just good parenting, so stop being so dramatic. but i learned soon that her love was not what love ought to be. violence and neglect and manipulation is not what love is supposed to be. maybe i do not know exactly what love is, but i knew what it was not. i was angry. i was angry that i was not loved the way i loved others. i took this out on people. i was immature and destructive and unloving on the outside because that’s how i had been loved. but i regretted it. i still regret how i was back then. at a point, the anger simmered off into a chronic pain. depression and anxiety hit me full force at such a young age and i became self conscious, turned to self harm, locked myself up. i talked to my family about absolutely nothing. i still do. and the abuse didn’t stop, but it reformed itself. i haven’t been hit in years. instead it was comments on my body, pressuring me to lose weight and shaming me for not playing sports, making me count calories, carbs, grams of sugar, protein. i’ve never recovered from that. those mindsets are still with me to this day. and then it was shaming me for academics, being lazy, immature, emotional, dramatic, a procrastinator, avoidant. i was gaslighted into thinking my very real mental illnesses and disorders were simply attitude problems. it was treating my brothers with care, trust, as if they were fragile. you see in my mothers eyes her boys’ struggles were the most important, the most challenging. mine were problems i had to figure out myself.

then, in the fall of 2020, i had a new abuser. typical narcissistic behavior; love bombing, making me feel so loved and cared for, and sudden ghosting. complete abandonment. manipulating me into feeling bad for them. making me feel unlovable. in november i tried to kill myself.

in my eyes, i was unlovable. you see i was dramatic and sensitive and fragile and immature and overly emotional and easily embarrassed and damaged and ugly and fat and annoying and overwhelming and bothersome and stupid and impulsive. all the love i got convinced me of this.

but i realized not long ago, that i am loveable. i am deserving of the same love i give others. i deserve to be loved as hard as i love others. maybe i can be a bit impulsive and emotional, i annoy some people, maybe i’m a bit sensitive, but am i not deserving of love? aren’t i funny and intelligent and caring and creative and don’t i try my best to love people? i have the right to be loved as i love. that overwhelming, encapsulating feeling, the one that makes my chest sparkle and fly; i deserve someone that loves me like that. i know i do. i know what love is not. i know when i am not being loved.

i know i am not fully healed. there is no way to heal in the place i am in. i cannot find solace in the place i am abused. i cannot find comfort in the house i am abused in. but once i am out, i will know how to heal.

#writing #spilled thoughts #lgbtq #self healing #healing

[ssneksnekk]

Crossmare Boobgrabbing

(NSFW, Nipple sucking, Tit squeezing, Aggressive behavior, Mentions of slut shaming)

Nightmare let out a whine, his entire body tensing before letting out a shaky sigh. “Be gentle, will you? Hell, I gave you an opportunity to touch me. Not rip me apart.” Nightmare grumbled out, averting his cyan eye. Though, the male he was sitting on didn’t seem to register his annoyance as he squeezed and pulled on the, recently inverted but now perked, nipples.

“Sorry…” Cross muttered again. He’d been having to do that every few minutes when Nightmare had to tell him or when he figured in he was in serious pain. But, stars, he couldn’t help it. Killer had really gotten to him this time. It was one thing to say dumb shit to his face but to say such inappropriate things about their Boss behind his back? It made him furious.

Nightmare was not a milf, nor was he a slut or a sex doll. He was a majestic King that had to be treated gently as to not break him for he was fragile. “Ow..! Cross!” Nightmare growled again as Cross accidently let his claws dig into Nightmare’s tits. “Fuck- I’m sorry..” Cross was growing angrier with himself by the second.

“Could you not think about what Killer may have said to you right now? Your anger is only hurting me and it’s not arousing at all. I may have to put you out and you may have to seek help from others, Cross.” Nightmare’s voice was full of annoyance and seriousness, yet still kept the matter short and simple and to the point. Not a way Cross really liked but it was better than being lied to.

“I know, I know, sorry.. I just.. he said some really nasty things and it really got my blood boiling. Especially when it’s perverted about the people I care for.” Cross muttered. Nightmare only rolled his eyes. He adjusted his sharp phalanges on Cross’ shoulders before tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “And what did he say, Cross?”

 Cross was quiet, stopping himself from painfully squeezing Nightmare’s chest and instead dramatically groaning. “He talked about you!” Nightmare was taken aback. “Me?” Cross nodded furiously. “Yeah, you! He talked about you like you were some stupid sex toy for the taking! How he wanted to have a turn with you when I was done or something.. Stars, he’s just so… gross!”

 Nightmare was quiet before he smirked. That’s what had gotten him so worked up? Oh, Cross, weren’t you a loyal soldier to his king. “How sweet..” Nightmare let his touch linger on the scar of the soldier’s cheek, gently training downwards to his chin and titling his head up slightly to look at Nightmare. “So all of this fuss has been all about me, Cross?” Nightmare felt flattered. He didn’t even care that he’d been in pain just a second ago.

 Cross face lit up a purple fury, breath hitching as his and his king’s faces were inches apart, the sweet, apple scent radiating off of Nightmare was intoxicating his senses. “I…” He didn’t even have time to finish before a deep, brooding chuckle left the king. “Fine. I suppose I can grant you at least this much, right? Do what you must.” Cross could only slightly see the faint, cyan blush on Nightmare’s face and that was enough to fuel him.

 Cross let Killer’s words flow back through his head and really let himself become aroused and angry. He’d show Killer. He’d show him how only HE could make Nightmare feel good. That only HE could treat him how he wanted. Nightmare was startled as he was picked up and gently thrown onto his bed. His eyesocket slightly widened in surprise at Cross’ sudden surge in dominance.

 Cross leaned over, his larger hands pinning Nightmare’s wrists to the bed. His sharp canines easily dug into Nightmare’s neck, bruising the dark bone which made it glow a gentle cyan. His knee pressed in between the king’s legs, stimulating the clothed entrance with ease. “Cross!” Nightmare moaned out, his eye closing tightly.

 Cross let go of Nightmare’s wrists, transferring to his large mounds where he squeezed and pulled on aggressively. His slightly, sharp fingers dug into the nipples, making sure to pinch them and rub them in between his fingers as a way of pleasure. Nightmare was into it greatly. Tears formed at his eye from the sensation of pain and pleasure mixing and he couldn’t help but feel he’d cum just from this.

 Nightmare fumbled with his pants, trying to get them off as soon as possible to discard them on the floor. Cross chuckled gently and held back a smirk, helping the king with his pants and throwing them somewhere else in his room. He finally had access to his wet core begging for him and he felt himself salivate.

 Nightmare could see the perverted look on his face and scoffed in amusement. “Gosh, you may just be worse than Killer.” Cross felt his face turn a bright purple and his brows furrowed, giving a yank on Nightmare’s tits which caused the King to let out a pleasured cry. “Don’t compare me to him.”

 Nightmare panted gently, ready for the dominance and the manhandling that he’d get though the shaky smile didn’t leave his face. “Yes sir.” Cross smiled happily at that, the dominant face leaving for a split second before it’d returned. At the sight of the bare king laying down in front of him at his mercy, Cross really couldn’t believe it.

 Like, he really couldn’t believe it. He never thought Nightmare would’ve even agreed to letting him touch his chest! It’d been pining for such a long time till only a month ago when Nightmare had spied on his dreams out of pure curiosity and realized the truth. It took a bit of insistence since Nightmare had been afraid of corrupting Cross, though Cross’ desperate attempts to be with the king finally paid off.

 “Fuck, Cross.. please, do something! Don’t just stare at me!” Nightmare growled, his face an embarrassed cyan as he adverted his eye. Cross had just been staring at him and it was embarrassing. Though, he’d never admit that. His begging had soon been accepted when Cross took ahold of his large tits, squeezing them with aggression.

 Nightmare’s back arched as he felt Cross’ thumbs dig into his perk, plump, nipples. They pressed down on the sensitive buds, making the king cry out. “FUCK! CROSS!” His legs wrapped around Cross’ waist, acting on their own. Cross pressed their teeth together, trapping Nightmare in a deep, messy kiss.

 Cross’ tongue tangled with the other’s aggressively, Nightmare barely being able to keep up with him and how fast he was. Where had this attitude even come from? Cross usually was to shy to even touch Nightmare’s hand! Let alone pin him like a wild animal and tease him. The king found it arousing to know he only was able to see this side of Cross.

 Nightmare was snapped out of his thoughts as tears blurred his vision and he almost screamed. He looked to his breasts to see Cross’ mouth trapped around one of his nipples, sucking and licking furiously at his right one while his hand was busy playing and pinching on the left nipple.

 It made small tears fall from the king’s face out of pleasure and he felt a knot build in his stomach. God, was he really going to cum like this?! “FUCK! CROSS!!” Cross felt a shiver run up his spine from hearing how he called out his name, the erection in his shorts restraining him. He grunted quietly from the restriction of his shorts and growled gently.

 Nightmare screamed out in pleasure as he came. His walls clenching around nothing and his clit throbbing. A soft liquid dripped from his entrance and down to his ass and onto his dark, lilac covers. He’d wash it later. Nightmare’s vision was blurry as he panted, sitting up on his elbows to properly look at Cross.

 Seeing sight of the hard, throbbing, purple cock that Cross had summoned, Nightmare felt himself drool. His cocky smile came back quickly. With shaky fingers, his spread his sensitive folds for Cross. Cross’ eyes trained on his tight cunt and only that alone as he swallowed wetly. A deep chuckle left the King.

 “O-oh.. Cross.” His voice was shaky, yet it still held a dominance in it. He was still in control. “D-don’t tell me you’re backing out now.” Cross scoffed in quiet amusement, lining up his cock with his entrance before roughly pushing in which earned Cross a sweet moan from the King.

 “Of course not, Boss. I always finish what I start.”

#Crossmare #InspiredbyCarelessCreativity #GiftforCarelessCreativity #Ihopeyoulikeit! #Idon'townNightmareorCross

[taeyohonic]

stolen dances | chap. 10

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: alcohol consumption (drunk people / hungover people), swear words

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2100

links: prev. |  next  [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: jimin is team jungkook... whatever that means

“fuck”, jungkook hisses in your ears as the sizzling pan burns his hand. even years after their final performance, seokjin still inhabits the second nature of being the leader. he moves swiftly around the table to check on jungkook, who stays in his position. his breath is hot on your neck as you try to kill yoongi with your stare. with caution you touch jungkook’s burned hand, but the singer won’t let your fingers rest on his before he withdraws himself from you. jimin looks at the scene in front of him with distaste while the oldest coos at jungkook.

“let me be, hyung.”

“you’re hurt, kookie. we have to ice it”, seokjin insists and you pry your eyes away from your therapist to turn around, only to find jungkook watching you intensely.

“_____ knows where the ice is.” yeah, every single one of his friends knows where the freezer is. it’s essential for margarita wednesday. but you don’t dare to voice that – not when even the loudmouthed taehyung is keeping quiet.

“come on, kook”, you say softly and stand up, the delicious chicken completely forgotten.

there is the faint sound of yoongi’s apology in your ears as you move closer to the kitchen, jungkook like a cloak following behind you.

“how bad is the pain?”, you ask and collect an icepack, looking more at the granite worktop in jungkook’s spotless kitchen than your best friend.

“____, look at me”, he orders roughly. instead of taking the ice from you, he waits.

after a second too long, you face him. his eyes are hot on your skin and you feel yourself shrink inch by inch.

“you sang for him?”

“i… no – i just helped him out”, you explain. “yoongi needed the track for his audition and … he really tried other options – you, you know how terrible my voice is. but the label demanded the tape – we didn’t have time.”

you don’t know why an apology is nestled on your lips; there is nothing to be sorry for. jungkook disagrees.

“you sang for him”, he repeats, not in question, but as an accusation.

“what’s the big deal?”, you whisper and press the icepack onto his hand. for a split-second you think he’ll push you back and throw the cooling aid across the room. but your best friend does the complete opposite, taking a step closer to you. you feel his chest heaving as the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller.

there are a lot of reasons why you love jungkook. one of them is that you are oh so attracted to him.

your heart kindly reminds you of that fact by beating heavily against your ribcage. you can smell his skin and see the tiniest scar his brother gave him when he was a toddler. this is not good.

“you won’t even sing karaoke with me, but you’ll sing for him?”, he asks and grips your hand to push it onto his burn. he hisses in pain but does not stop the pressure.

“you’re all famous singers, jungkook… i.. i don’t wanne embarrass myself in front of you”, you answer. he only huffs.

“____, you puked on me.”

“the rollercoaster was too fast – even jimin said that.”

“you had diarrhea during our last road trip.”

“nobody noticed that.” his eyes widen in disbelieve at your claim.

“i massaged your stomach the whole night to get the cramps to stop. everybody noticed, ____.”

“i don’t know what you want to achieve with this, jungkook”, you whine and try not to notice how delicious his collarbone looks under the kitchen lights.

“___”, he starts, “you can’t embarrass yourself in front of me.”

your eyes are still set on his collarbone and he breathes, clearly annoyed.

“there is no shame in this friendship, ___”, jungkook states with finality in his voice. you do not dare to meet his eyes, after the word ‘friendship’ burns itself onto your mind.

“music is half of who i am”, he continues, “i’d love to share it with my best friend.”

“okay”

your answer is met with a soft smile you do not see.

“okay”, he repeats and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

he steps away from you a moment later and now, his skin out of reach, you look at his face. his eyes are kind on you.

“let’s see if they left some chicken”, you say and before jungkook can respond, you’ve left the kitchen and your beating heart behind.

**

“where is all the chicken?”, you exclaim as you join the boys again. jimin’s faint blush is overshadowed by taehyung’s snicker.

“we were only gone for a second, hyungs!”, jungkook adds and helps you by adjusting your chair after you take your seat across from a full-mouthed yoongi.

“there is enough pasta for you to not go hungry”, seokjin answers and passes on the sauce to your best friend, who coats his spaghetti with the citrusy sauce, muttering to himself.

“so, you’ll help with the remix?”, taehyung asks yoongi, clearly done with your complaints.

yoongi looks at jungkook instead of taehyung as he replies.

“yeah, joon and i have been drabbling for a few days.” they have?

“maybe you can bring your demo next week to movie night?”, taehyung questions next.

“next movie night?”, yonngi repeats with furrowed eyebrows matching jungkook’s expression.

“or you can bring it by the office to my meeting with namjoon?”, seokjin offers. sorry, what?

“joon called you already?”, you ask. you distinctly remember the business card you’ve given your favorite barista at the restaurant. but you never imagined him to act this fast. even yoongi seems surprised.

“i like his voice”, seokjin nods at you and continues to eat his last chicken piece.

“but not as much as mine, right?”, jimin whines only to get slapped by the youngest.

your friends are really, really spoiled, you think with a smile and nudge yoongi’s foot under the table.

**

you hate how heavy your eyes feel while you blink at jungkook.

“you sure you don’t want to have a sleepover?”, he whispers as he helps you into your jacket. scratch that, your arms are heavier than your eyelids. your whine reminds him more of a kitten than a human and he smiles at you.

“nooo, i just… i-i wanne have my special pillow. and my socks.”

“okay, okay, okay – honey – don’t need any tears in this hallway”, seokjin hushes before hugging you. “drink lots of water, understood?”, he asks and lets you go. you nod silently and smile at him. even that is a task.

jungkook looks at the both of you and can’t help his chuckles at your big eyes in front of seokjin’s wide shoulders. it’s just… too cute.

“thanks for the invite.” yoongi pulls the host back to reality and jungkook nods at him with a fake smile.

“sure”, he says. now that you are half-away in dreamland, he doesn’t have to pretend to like your friend. he just wants him out of his house and your life. it physically pains jungkook to let you go together. how special can your at-home-pillow really be?

even in your state you notice how jimin sidesteps yoongi’s hand and how fast taehyung opens the door to lead your therapist out in the hallway. jimin pushes seokjin aside to say goodbye to you, huffing into your hairline as you squeeze him half-heartedly back. his behavior towards yoongi makes you dislike him more than you care to admit.

your friend bows to the boys before moving to the hallway. there is just taehyung between you and the exit now. jimin passes you off to the troublemaker, but not without some clouded thunder in his eyes. embraced by taehyung, you whisper: “what’s up with jimin?”

the former singer knows that eyes and ears are on you – they always are when you’re with them – so he presses his lips close to your ear before answering.

“he’s always been team jungkook.”

it takes you six hours of sleep, two coffees and one aspirin before his words reach your brain the next morning.

**

you to troublemaker: what’s team jungkook?

your message to taehyung goes unanswered. it makes you mad and you do not like being ignored. after crafting the whole day with your kids in pottery class, you make your way out of the school. you try to repress memories of the awkward lunch with jisoo, not ready to face the reality that she made jungkook uncomfortable, and the alcohol still makes your steps more sluggish than graceful.

jungkook’s mercedes in front of the building comes as a surprise.

“surprise!”, he exclaims and opens the car door for you.

“what are you doing here?”, you ask, too drained to be more forthcoming. the former idol smiles behind his sunglasses.

“surprising my very chipper, sunshine-y best friend.” jungkook sounds so excited that you can feel your lips – and mood – lifting by the second.

“and what’s the surprise?” other than your very busy ceo taking the afternoon off to give you a ride instead of letting you take the crowded train home.

“i wanted to take you to the park!” he points to the basket hidden in his car and your cheeks flush while looking at his long, long finger.

“come ooon”, jungkook tries to shush you into the seat, not ready for some of the pedestrians to notice the famous man. maybe he shouldn’t flash his gucci sunglasses.

“okay, okay, kookie, okay”, you relent and squeeze his shoulder before getting into the mercedes.

it only takes him seconds and then he’s in the driver’s seat, smiling happily at you.

“how was pottery?”, he asks and speeds out into the traffic. you’ve sent him some of your students’ creations from today during lunch, trying to escape jisoo’s eyes – they’d been so proud. you haven’t shown him yours.

“my mug looks so ugly”, you mutter, only to hear a huff from jungkook.

“no way – your designs are unique… never ugly.”

at the next red light, you flash him a picture of your grotesque creation. he is silent until the lights change to green. eyes on the road, jungkook tries to soothe you.

“practice makes perfect, ___.” you only snort.

“yeah well… i think we’ll focus more on learning tomorrow. minimal creativity. maximal brains.”

there is a comfortable silence in the car – but not for long.

“how was your day?”, you ask and turn your upper body to the driver so you’re more focused on his hands gripping the steering wheel.

jungkook sighs before responding. “the board doesn’t like our promotion strategy for europe. so, we’ll have to revise the concept. sales are good – the finance department had a boner for their whole thirty minutes presentation, calculating how much money we’ll make this quarter.”

he takes a turn and you can already see the green from the park.

“had lunch with jin and went for a mini workout after that.”

jungkook parks the car in one swift motion and you have to suppress the moan at his controlled handling of the wheel. he doesn’t even look bothered by the vehicles waiting for him to maneuver into the tight space. after he turns off the engine, your best friend faces you fully.

“and i googled a bit”, he admits. it’s a random fact, making you conscious of its deeper meaning.

“during your lunch with jin?”, you ask. “or while doing squats?”

“during the finance presentation – it was so boring, ____”, he groans and falls forward onto your shoulder.

“and what did you google?”, you ask and press his earlobe between your fingertips. you can still feel the numerous holes from his idol days. it’s a shame he doesn’t wear earrings anymore.

“you know…”, jungkook starts softly, “i wondered – at the restaurant, with namjoon.” his forehead is still resting on you, so he easily notices your stiffened body.

“i would have kind of believed it if you met him first. you drink way too much coffee. he’s a barista.” jungkook’s explanation is hushed against your skin.

“but you met yoongi first, _____.”

“yeah”, you admit quietly.

“min yoongi’s practice has a website, ____.”

“yeah”

“min yoongi is a licensed therapist, ____.”

there is a beat of silence as he waits for you to decide how open you want to be with your best friend… and yourself.

“he is my licensed therapist, jungkook.”

_____

sorry for the late update. hope you are all healthy! love, dana

p.s. this had a whole lot of “uhhh she went to therapy” vibe. therapy is cool, i only survived because i went to see a therapist. jungkook thinks so too; don’t let the last scene fool you. so… we’ll have the park “outing” next and after that… all goes down the drain. I promise.

taglist:   @livewittykid  @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad​​ @jinsearthh​ @kseokwu​

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ceo!jungkook #idol!jungkook #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #jeon jungkook

[today3467h]

Obesity – A Major Problem Of The Youngsters

Along with a lot of diseases and health-related issues in the young generation of today, increased fat and obesity have grabbed their place completely among all. Obesity can be described as the worst visible disease which causes access to fats in the human body leading to various kinds of health-related issues and also a sort of embarrassment in society.

If you are among those people who sit and eat a lot of high-calorie food and do not do any sort of active work like exercising running or yoga then you are soon going to be under the Trap of obesity.

When The Mass Index of a human body becomes 25 or more in case of obesity. Body mass index can be said to be a measurement derived from a person's height and weight and BMI is believed to be a simple calculation to know your weight.

Obesity can easily occur in anyone even in a child of two years. Consuming too much and moving too little is an exact definition of obesity.

The complexion of disease is just not limited to the external appearance of a person's body but obesity in the long run does not take a lot of time to create a series problems for you like diabetes cholesterol issue kidney damage blood pressure and even cancer which can lead to to death.

Most of the Bachelor youngsters of today are obese because of insufficient healthy diet bad

environment and basic Lifestyle choices are very poor of them. Moreover, it is also different on Genetics mental health, and hormonal changes of a person. But obesity is not a thing that cannot be cured.

If someone takes care of very few basic things in their life then they can easily cut the trap and get rid of it easily. Doctors' medical help and behavioral choices can easily help in this.

Signs and Symptoms of Obesity

• In most cases, obese people are seen to have a mass index of more than 20.

• Pain can occur in joints and back regions while moving or bending.

• Overweight

• Enlarged tummy

• Unrestrained eating

• Difficulty in breathing

• Poor sleep

• Skin allergies

• Snoring

When to seek medical attention for obese ones?

People looking forward to a healthy life would be concerned for their health and regularly visit a doctor. But, if you face bench eating and excess cravings which have resulted in.

For some weight loss in a concise term period then you should visit your doctor once for a planned lifestyle and see if anything is wrong.

What causes lead to obesity?

There are various factors on which weight gain depends. The body's metabolism and teenage hormonal secretion have a great impact on the weight of a person. However in simple words, if you are not at all active in your life and do not burn your calories in any way, you may be among overweight people.

Here are the major risk factors of obesity

Major risk factors include the following

• Family history and genetics

• Excess alcohol consumption

• Irregular and poor pattern of your sleep steroids and beta blockers

• No exercise motivation in life

• Eating a high-calorie diet and high-calorie beverages

• Lack of consumption of healthy foods and fruits

• Growing age

• Pregnancy automatically leads to weight gain in a woman.

• Stress and anxiety in work life

Complications associated with obese people

Obese people have I'm a very high chance of developing severe health problems which can lead to death.

• Diabetes

• Digestive bacterial disease

• Heart disease

• Abnormal cholesterol levels which can often lead to strokes

• Sleep apnea

• Inflammation conditions like osteoarthritis

• High blood pressure

• Fatty liver and other liver disease

• Depression

• Embarrassment and Shame in the society

• Social isolation

• Low – confidence and disability to perform any kind of tasks.

Precautional measures to prevent obesity –

• Exercise regularly no matter what

• Eat Fresh green leafy vegetables and whole-grain foods and dried fruits

• If you want to eat fast foods a lot then learn the cheat meal diet.

• Weight loss medications can be consumed but with the least side effects

How do doctors diagnose obesity?

Following tests and examinations are generally performed by the doctors-

• Heart rate check-up

• Blood pressure and Pulse rate checkup

• Abdomen test

• Cholesterol level checkup

• Thyroid check

• Liver check

• Diabetes check-up

How to treat obesity?

Treatment Procedure: For obesity treatments, Healthcare professionals easily help you with certain necessary Lifestyle changes and medications.

Remember, the goal is to stay and maintain a healthy weight not to become underweight.

A dietitian and trainer can easily help you out.

Cut down calorie intake from your daily food consumption by eating a calorie but protein-full diet. Women are preferred to consume not more than 1500 calories a day and men are

preferred not to consume more than 1800 calories per day.

Deserts and processed foods should be replaced with healthier options like frozen mangoes, fruits, yogurt, and chocolate bites.

• Limit sugar sweet and beverages and high carbohydrate foods

• Have low–calorie shakes and meal bars

• Exercise and practice cardio

• Endoscopic sleep gastroplasty procedure

• Intragastric balloons

• Gastric bypass surgery

Read More:-

#health & fitness #fitness #healthyfood #yoga #workout #gym #exercise #nutrition #bodybuilding

[donutloverxo]

His salvation

Note - for my love @evnscvll's 3k follower challenge. Congrats and i hope you like it.

Anon asked for "Mobster!steve making u dress in white lingerie specifically and act innocent so the purity of it is always a contrast to him and his gritty life whew it is hot in here"

Summary - You're Steves light. He can't let you go even if he knows he's bad for you.

Themes - mob au, smut, pwp, soft dark Steve, master/sir kink, dom/sub dynamics, cockwarming, slut shaming.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve had always believed he was born in blood and darkness. Doomed to stay there forever. Forced to do things he didn’t want.

To have people expect the world from him. Put him up on a pedestal. Having to match their standards.

Maybe no one is truly forced to do anything. Maybe that’s a lie he told himself so he could sleep at night.

It didn’t really matter either way. His soul would forever be tainted. No matter how many times he washed them, his hands will always be dirty.

His father died when he was only 20. As sad as he was. He was free as well. He was almost happy. He thought he wouldn’t have to live under the mobsters tight fist anymore. That he could use his power and his name for some good.

But he was surrounded by cartels, gangs and bad men. Who he owed many things to, on his fathers behalf. He never did try to stop fighting to get out of the quicksand, which only made him sink further. Believing that there would always be a light at the end of the tunnel. That someday he'd get to be normal.

Turns out the light was you. He decided so as soon as he saw you. Who knew a sweet simple waitress would save him from himself.

You were all smiles and politeness as you took down his and his associates orders. He still remembers your smudged pink lipstick, your white apron.

He found out how innocent and pure you were when you finally gave in and let him take you out to dinner. He doubted you had ever done anything bad in your life.

He choked on his wine when you told him that you’re a virgin. He had his suspicions but he really couldn’t believe how no one had ever touched someone as beautiful as you and took your innocence away.

He was elated when you told him that you wanted him to be your first. That you couldn’t be with anyone but him. That he had ruined you for other men.

The first time with you was the greatest night of his life. The best sex he ever had. Who knew it'd be with a virgin?

You weren’t like most women. Flaunting around their assets, leaving nothing to the imagination.

No. You were real and honest. So responsive to his touch. Your moans didn’t sound rehearsed, as if something you copied from watching too much gratuitous pornography.

Your cunt was adorned with soft dark curls. Completely natural. Just the way he liked. He drank from you as if he hadn’t drank anything for years. Revelling in the way he made you feel so good that you cried real tears for him.

But loving you came with a price. He couldn’t help but feel terrified of just how intense his feelings were. Because he knew you deserved the whole world. You deserved to be happy.

Because he knew he wasn’t the best for you. It wouldn’t be too long before you found out what he did for a living.

If you wanted to leave it would be understandable. But would he let you? He didn’t know.

He walked into your shared bedroom when you didn’t greet him at the door, he assumed you’d be asleep. But here you were putting on some sort of concoction on your face.

He put the little gift he got you aside and sneaked up behind you.

“Boo!” He screamed in your ear and chuckled at the startled noise you made.

You frowned as you spilled the multani clay all over your lap. All thanks to your man. You looked at him over your shoulder. Your frown creasing the drying clay on your face. “Thanks a lot.” You stood up removing your soiled robe.

His smile left his face as he delivered a harsh smack on your behind. You yelped and landed your palms down on your dressing table to support your weight.

He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “What have we said about sassing me my dear?” He whispered lowly, caressing your bum before smacking it again.

“Only bad girls talk back.” You whimpered tears spilling from your eyes. “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to.” You sobbed as he kept delivering sharp smacks to both your cheeks. Disappointed that you let him down, feeling the sharp pain in your ass, humiliated at the wetness pooling between your legs.

He sneaked a hand up your nightgown and past your panties. Pressing a thumb against your second hole. One he hadn’t had the opportunity to fuck yet. “Maybe I should some pay attention here as well.” He suggested pressing his thumb inside you.

“Whatever you want sir. I’ll do anything for you.” You breathed out as you felt him push two of his fingers in your heat. Working both your holes expertly. Almost tipping you over the edge.

You would be embarrassed of just how he could play with you so well that he had you cuming in mere minutes. But right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Too lost in the glorious pleasure. You had missed him terribly for the last few days. You couldn’t even touch yourself to relieve your aching pussy. It was against the rules laid out by Steve.

He pulled his fingers out of you all too soon as you whimpered at the loss. More tears escaping your eyes wetting the clay you had put on.

He delivered another sharp slap to your upper thigh. “Stop it. You know bad girls don’t get to cum.” He chastised your insolent behavior. He wanted to feel you gush around his fingers, but he couldn’t have you thinking you could speak to him however you liked.

To be so arrogant and bratty was unbecoming of you and he wasn’t having any of it. “It’s your own fault. You ruined it for both of us.” He said sternly as he moved you around to make you look at him.

His heart melted, all his anger fading away at the defeated and sad look on your face. “What’s this on your face?” He frowned at your brown face pack. Restricting him from seeing your face.

“It’s supposed to be good for your skin. I was just getting ready for our anniversary tomorrow.” You looked down shyly averting his eyes “I wanted to look pretty for you sir.” You mumbled.

You were too good to be true. So kind and considerate to him when he had just been so cruel and malicious to you. He supposed the stark contrast was only one of the million things he loved about you and your relationship.

He hummed at. Almost dropping to his knees then and there to finish you off with his mouth. But he had other plans for tonight.

He pushed his wet middle and forefinger, which were deep inside your cunt just a few seconds ago, against your lips. “You know what to do princess.” He instructed as you them in your mouth, suckling on them to clean them up.

He could hardly hold on. Just imagining your warm wet mouth around his cock had him almost cuming in his pants.

“Wash it off doll. You don’t need it. If you become anymore beautiful I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” He growled gripping your hips, perhaps a bit too harshly, grinding his hardness against your core.

You let out another pathetic whimper and gave him a small nod, complying instantly like you always do, walking towards the bathroom.

“Wait” He called out stopping you in your tracks. He handed you the paper bag. “Put that on.” He instructed.

“What is it?” You curiously peeked inside the bag.

“It’s your anniversary gift doll. Now go put it on.” He said growing more and more impatient by the minute. You hurried off into the bathroom. It was really more of a gift for him than you. But he had bought you some diamonds and pretty purses. He didn’t feel that guilty.

If he did have any semblance of guilt, it instantly faded away as he laid his eyes on you. Wearing the white satin baby doll he had picked out, with white lace on the edge of it. It ended just below your ass, giving him a generous view of your thick thighs and legs.

“Come here dove.” He extended an arm to you as you lingered at the bathroom door. Playing with the lace of your new nightie.

You gulped down and walked to him and stood in front of him. “Uh sir...” You trailed off as you couldn’t gather enough courage, not being able to concentrate with his large hands roaming freely on your body.

“What dove?” He asked feeling your ass over the smooth material.

“It – didn’t have any panties. Did they fall somewhere or something?” You stammered so embarrassed that you felt you’d cry.

You trusted Steve with your life but you couldn’t help the but feel exposed and embarrassed whenever his hungry eyes feasted upon you when you were naked. You had never put on any kind of lingerie for him before. Steve never seemed to mind your simple bras or comfortable granny panties. This was so new and scary for you. But at the same time oh so exciting.

“It did come with panties. But satin isn’t supposed to be good for you dove.” He explained. “I prefer you this way. It gives me free reign to do whatever I want with you.” He slipped a hand between your legs and caressed the inside of your thighs.

“At the end of the day. You are mine.” He pulled his hand away and jutted your chin up to make you look at him. “Now don’t you think you should apologize for being so rude to your master?” He asked and you nodded eagerly. “Get to work then. If you do a good job maybe I’ll go easy on you.” He said pushing on your shoulders to make you kneel in front of him.

Your shaky fingers worked to undo his zipper and pulling him out of his underwear. You gasped as his cockhead slapped your face before standing tall against his lower abdomen.

You licked your hand wrapping it around his thick length. You stroked him slowly watching in awe as beads of white cream oozed from his tip.

“You can do better than that.” He groaned nudging his cock against your lips and slowly pushing it in. He grunted at your warmth and wetness as he bottomed out, touching the back of your throat. Smirking as you gagged around him.

He looked down at you. Wishing he could rip out his phone and capture the image forever. You on your knees, looking up at him adoringly as if he’s your whole world, your mouth stretched wide as he fucked it. He was living the dream.

He grabbed a hold of your head with both his hands and hastily pushed and pulled out of your mouth. You cupped his balls and played with them, just as he had taught you.

He pulled you off of him. You looked up at him scared that he was still mad with you. “Aw don’t look so disappointed.” He cooed smoothening his hand over your hair “Need to cum in your cunt.” He rasped. “I’ll let you swallow it later dove. I plan to go all night.” He smirked as your eyes widened. Probably worried about how you could keep up with him. He did love testing you.

He impatiently manhandled you and dropped you on the bed. Making quick work of taking off his shirt and pants. He settled between your legs wrapping them around his waist. He wanted to taste you. To get lost between your legs. But he’d save that for later as well.

You bit his shoulder as he entered you. Still not used to his length. Your cunt burning in the best way at the hard and warm weight of him.

“Oh Steve...” You chanted his name and then a series of ‘oh my goodness' as he fucked into you, the sounds of his balls slapping your cunt so purely sinful. He didn’t mind you saying his given name while so delirious with pleasure. It was the only thing he was willing to look past.

He was almost there. Going days without you had only served to feed his hunger for you. But he held off. He wanted to see you finish first.

You looked so gorgeous, completely fucked out under him. Your breasts bouncing under the thin satin as he pounded into you. He lifted your hips and gave a particularly harsh thrust to strike your special spot.

From the way you screamed at the top of your lungs he knew he found it.

Being the sweet angel that you are, you had always been shy about the loud noises you made whenever he had his way with you. Even tried to stifle them. As if he would let you hide such beautiful sounds. He made sure to teach you that you could be yourself, as wild as you wished to be, in the bed you both shared.

When he felt your tight channel clenching around him, now he was the one who couldn’t keep from screaming. He spilled deep inside you rolling his hips to tease your clit.

He pulled your thigh over his hips, snuggling against your back. Gently palming and feeling your breasts and rolling his hips again to settle his soft cock in you in the right angle, to make sure he his seed stayed inside you. So he could be as close to you as he can. Feeling you, smelling you all around him.

You were his and he was yours. He would never let anyone or anything change that.

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[crimsonrae]

Alluring Studies

Summary: AU Practicing high level spells at Brakebills was nothing new to anyone, and neither was the trouble it led to - but for one first year student, she would have to answer for indiscretions with her favorite professor. Magic Professor!Henry. Magicians crossover sort of.

Henry Cavill XOFC

Warning: Nudity, Student-teacher relations, and mentions of fellatio.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I just finished watching the last season of The Magicians and I’m both happy and heartbroken. I had a small what if thought about Henry being a Brakebills Professor... hope you all enjoy. Non-beta’d and really just trash, but I’m posting anyway. I may delete it later or add another part. I’m debating.

Alluring Studies

It was so intoxicating.

The heady thrum in her veins felt like home and hot tea and ice cream – everything good. It felt right. Magic felt right. She couldn’t believe how long she had lived without it, had been blind to its presence. Discovering Brakebills...

Well, Brakebills discovering her had been a gift that she wouldn't trade for the world. Who wouldn’t choose magic? Who wouldn’t choose this school?  

Or its teachers, a small voice whispered distantly and a vague image of her phosphoromancy professor danced behind her eyes.  

Professor Cavill was a dreamboat and a slave master. Strict with each of his pupils in a way that a father was strict with his kids. It frustrated most of the students to be treated like children by a man that was barely a decade their senior... but she relished in his attention. She had come to live for his quiet praise with each spell she mastered and lived in fear of his hearty admonishments when missteps occurred.  

She wondered if he was as strict – as demanding in bed. A hot string of want tinged between her swelling petals, invoking her magic. She suppressed a moan as that comforting thrill spilled into her fingers, warming her soft prints as she began to cast on the library rooftop. The Physical Kid’s Cottage was too loud and rambunctious for her to concentrate enough on these spells... and partaking in the wild mesh of alcohol and incantations was too tempting for her. She was sure that something would go horribly wrong.

A small cloud coalesced before her. It's fine vapors twisting and writhing as it grew and flashed with new colors.

Plum.

Crimson.

Verdant.

Sapphire.

So pretty. So brilliant.

Thunder rumbled from the forming nebulous startling her faintly as her fingers flinched. 

That had been a mistake. 

The cloud grew exponentially, falling from her control as wind whipped around her body in a horrifying spiral. Her colorful fun, now twisting into something larger, darker, and more dangerous.

Her heart spiked as she tried to regain control. Her hands moving double-time as the first shape of a funnel spiraled below.

Fuck.

She had made a fucking tornado.

Air sapped from her lungs, in the face of her error. The rainbow whirl now bloomed further up into the sky as it’s pull became even stronger.

She made to scream, but by some miracle it stopped. The writhing smoke stilling with the wind before shrinking down into nothing but a wafting mist. She blinked, unsure what had happened to stop her dangerous blunder.

“That spell is beyond your skill. It was stupid to attempt it unsupervised.” A crisp British lilt rebuked from behind her.

She closed her eyes at the sound, feeling mildly horrified to be caught by a professor... by this professor of all people. Heat rose to her cheeks as peaked over her shoulder to see reapproving cobalts staring sternly at her as he finished his casting.

Long, strong fingers danced gracefully in the air as he wove his spell. Disappointment laid heavily between them and yet all she could think about was how she wanted those fingers to dance in her. The man was a walking sex-bomb and she longed to detonate him. The anticipation of his recriminations only made her want it more.

“You’re lucky I was walking past when I did.” Professor Cavill chastised as he waved off the last of the vapors, “Weather manipulation is difficult to begin with, adding in phosphoromancy without adequate training is simply suicide. You could have been torn apart.”

“It felt right.” She defended weakly as she turned to face him fully. It had felt right, her fingers had moved with a mind of their own, merely following the whispers of the circumstance.

Professor Cavill hummed as he eyed her with an arched brow, “Until it didn’t.”

A humiliated flush burned her blood as she snapped her gaze away, unable to disagree. It had felt right and true and beautiful until she had lost the thread. That steady thrum had turned wild...she hadn’t been prepared for that...had been scared by it.

Taking pity on her, Professor Cavill sighed and murmured quietly, “You got rather far for a first year before it went tits up. Control will come with time.”

“I had it.” She replied woefully as her gaze slid woefully back to his stunning face, “It felt so right, so good...almost -”

If it were possible his brow arched higher as an amused glint sparking his orbs at her sudden hesitance. He supplied for her, “Almost orgasmic?”

Her embarrassed flames flared, and she tried vainly to ignore the warm twitch from her core as she silently agreed. Still, she smiled wirily, “Something like that.”

“Then I suggest you simply get laid next time or rub one out.” Professor Cavill intoned dryly, “Doesn’t usually result in death.”

She stifled a gasp at his coarseness, not used to hearing the usually mild manner professor be so blunt. Her stare narrowed almost challengingly, “Was that your remedy? I’m sure your hand grew quite cramped – surprised you can do spells then.”

Far from being insulted, Professor Cavill grinned at her, “Not as cramped as some people's mouths.”

She gaped slightly, her eyes falling unbidden to his crotch. Her mouth watered with desire as the thought of tasting him suddenly seared her mind. Only his faint chuckle brought her back to her senses as his fingers pressed beneath her chin, firmly shutting her mouth before tilting her head up, “Don’t beg like a dog, my dear. Simply ask.”

Her thighs clenched under the faint command in his rich baritone. For a moment she forgot that he was a teacher, and she was a student. They were both adults and she’d be a fool to pass up a ride on this beautiful beast, to fully study her master. His thumb pressed upon the slump flesh of her lower lip, teasing the flesh down as he eyed her darkly. Promise lingered in his sapphire gems, calling to the dark desires in her heart.

A shuddering breath stole from her lungs as her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist, “Please.”

Henry smiled slowly, “Please what?”

“Fuck me.” She whispered, “Please fuck me.”

“Someone’s angling for an ‘A’.” He murmured teasingly as he flicked his gaze down her curves in sinful consideration.

He devoured her body with a single glance, and she was hit by that heady thrum again. Magic soaked the air like an opiate, enhancing her arousal as she soaked her panties.  

If she had been wearing any.  

A cold breeze caressed her skin and she glanced down to find her clothes now gone. Her gasp had him chuckling again – she hadn’t even seen him cast.

His hand trailed a fiery path down her throat to her taut breast. He hummed thoughtfully as he pinched and twisted at her pebbled nipple, enjoying the way her silky skin licked his palm. It had been some time since he had slacken his lust. 

She moaned like a wanton whore, leaning into his touch as she reached for the buttons of his shirt.

Yet, Henry denied her and twisted her tit harshly, making her cry out before he forced her to her knees. She stared up at him tearfully from the exquisite pain as he cooed, “I do not reward foolish behavior and you were foolish tonight. Suck me off and if you’re good, then I might let you feel good.”

Her nectar flowed like a river at his words, even as her stomach clenched with a bewildering mix of arousal, shame, and horror. And yet, she found her nose nuzzling the growing bulge in his trousers as she whispered, “Yes, Professor.”

She missed Henry’s dark smile at her instant submission... He had found his new toy for the semester. Now that was what he called magic.  

#The Magicians #Henry Cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill ofc #AU