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zaeliaeve · 1 year

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ꜰʟᴏʀᴇꜱ [ꜱᴇʀɢɪᴏ ʀᴀᴍᴏꜱ] Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: this is purely fiction and there are things that will be inaccurate to real life. This is all for fun! I do not speak Spanish so please excuse any mistranslations, I literally just used Google translate haha. Thanks for reading!

2009

There are two things in this world that everyone can agree to hate mutually. The first being twenty three year old Sergio Ramos; the long haired defense player with a loud mouth and short temper seems to rile everyones feathers. Perhaps one of the worst things about him is his immense talent, meaning everyone will just have to put up with him because he knows with his skill, he is not going anywhere.

The second thing this world hates is nepotism, and who wouldn't? Nobody likes the lazy bosses son walking around the office being the nuisance that you can't say anything to just because he hit the family lottery. Nepotism is a direct reminder that life is unfair and favors some more than others.

Catalina Flores didn't feel life favored her most of the time. There was never anything special about her, no dazzling beauty that would get her anything she wanted; nor spectucular social skills that would let her build the friendships she always wanted. All she had ever been seen as was invisible. Catalina's life had been a lonely one and that was no secret to anyone around her.

Perhaps that's why her father's sister, Maria took pity on her and offered her a job with the team her husband coaches. A photographer for Real Madrid.

There was a couple of things that made Catalina hesitant to accept the kind gesture.

Number one, too big of a stage at only twenty years old. Photography is something Catalina has and always taken seriously, but to go from doing what she has been compared to one of the biggest football teams in the world is a lot of pressure, rightfully so. Maria assured her that there would be other photographers there and that all the weight didn't land on her shoulders souly.

Number two, was Catalina even good enough? There is many photos she's proud of, but like anyone around her age she makes mistakes. When she was sixteen she shot her brothers birthday party completely out of focus and the ones there were in focus were totally unflattering. That's something that always creeps back into her brain as she's trying to fall asleep at night. So embarrassing. Her aunt shushes those thoughts as she reminders Catalina of the photography contests she has won in recent years.

Truthfully, she felt a bit guilty taking the offer but to say no is something she feared would regret. Although football is not something she had ever necessarily cared about, it was a huge opportunity. It's not something she felt truly unqualified for. Why not just see how it goes?

On Catalina's first day it was luckily a bit easier. They were only training, and truthfully only needed shots for their new star player, Cristiano Ronaldo. who brought a lot of good press for the team.

Dark purple circles lay under Catalina's eyes as proof of the sleepless night she had prior, tossing and turning with anxiety of the day to come. The black camera bag strapped around her body felt heavier than usual, blocking the badge her uncle gave as permession to be there.

The training grounds felt massive and unfamiliar, she couldn't imagine what it felt like to be inside the actual stadium. There was a sweet older lady who showed Catalina the way outside where the players had yet to assemble onto the pitch.

That is when Catalina took the time to prepare her camera, adjusting it to the settings she deemed best as not to repeat her brothers birthday incident all those years ago. One by one each player shuffled out onto the field in their training clothes, all smiles as the sun beamed against their skin.

It was only then Catalina realized how unprepared she was. I really should have googled their names before this. She made a mental note to study their faces and names tonight. The only one she could point out was Cristiano, who she knew was a big deal for the club.

Anytime she could catch the Portuguese star flashing his bright teeth or with the lighting just right she made sure to snap an extra picture. There seemed to be one player being rougher than the rest, slapping the back of his teammates heads, or outright tackling them to the floor with a wide smile plastered on his face.

"Get off of me Sergio! What have you been eating, gordito?" One with large curly hair laughed, slapping at the long haired one's sides.

Sergio. Sergio. Sergio Catalina repeatedhis name over and over in her head as to not forget it as she captured the duos tussle back and forth on the grass.

It ended with another one coming in plopping on the both of them, causing both of the players to groan in pain. That's when the coach came in and told them finish the task at hand, and they followed orders accordingly but Catalina didn't miss Sergio getting one last smack on the back of the brunettes neck.

Apparently, Cristiano didn't miss it either as he busted out laughing before quickly putting a hand over his mouth to restrain himself.

Click click click

The team seemed to know when to calm down as for the rest of practice they took their jobs seriously without it being a drag. Of course they still had fun, but not too distractingly.

One with a buzzcut stopped to smile and wave at her very briefly in the middle of running up and down the field. Catalina's lips upturned as she waved at him back with her free hand, the other gripping the large camera for dear life.

Click click click

Catalina felt she got pretty good shots of them all, a small weight lifted off of her shoulders. Maybe it wasn't as big of a disaster as she thought.

The sun was setting so she knew it was almost time to go. The last thing they were doing was shooting balls across to each other in random pairs. As Catalina went to adjust her settings to accommodate the now deep orange sun, there was suddenly loud shouting all at once "cuidado!"

Before she could even process what they were saying, a large round object bounced off of her forehead; the force of it sending her backwards onto the soft grass. Instinctively she held her arm up to make sure her camera didn't fall as hard as she did.

Many players rushed to the side where Catalina layed on the ground, looking up at the white clouds above. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! " Number 3 gasped as he leaned over her, blocking her view of the sky.

Soon, each cloud got blocked by a member of the team's head, faces filled with worry as they looked down to the girl below them. All she could feel was the throbbing of her eye and scalp. "Pepe hijo de puta!" The buzzcut one exclaimed as he hit number 3's shoulder from beside him.

In the dead center of Catalina's vision she seen Sergio with the faintest smirk on his face. It felt like for a split second, time froze and all she could feel was this man laughing at her. Suddenly reality came crashing back to Catalina and she sat up abruptly, almost headbutting Sergio in the process. "I'm fine, it's no worries. You have really great aim, this is good for the team right?" Catalina tried to laugh it off, although her tone was unconvincing.

The curly haired one ruffled her dark locks in a way that commended her for being a good sport. Catalina could feel her face was heating up from not only the pain, but the huge feeling of embarrassment creeping into her chest. Slowly they backed off, but Pepe stayed and apologized profusely.

Catalina waved it off with a smile and assured him that she truly was okay. In the background she could hear number 11 running to get something that she would quickly find out is an ice pack.

As she pressed the cool fabric to her eye all she could think about was Sergio's face staring back down at her.

#sergio ramos #real madrid #sergio ramos imagine #sergio ramos fanfiction

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littlebearbigchub · 1 year

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Fantasizing about a relationship where criticism of my weight is central.

We meet online where I lure him in with pics of me at my thinnest. He doesn't know that I've been struggling to get my abs back since those pictures were taken, that everytime I manage to drop a pound or two I rebound into binges that have the scale ticking up in fits and spurts. When we meet in person I've managed to lean down enough to avoid accusations of straight up catfishing, but I've been laying in on thick about how I've just been temporarily distracted lately from my fitness routine by work and my body will be back in peak condition soon. Its actually serendipitous though, because he works in the fitness industry and he's itching for a project to work on that he has complete control over. At his job as a personal trainer, all his clients fail because they don't have the self discipline he utilizes to maintain his perfect body - he can't stop them from skipping their workouts or binging on donuts. But by dating someone he's coaching he has the opportunity to completely control their diet and gym time, and he's confident he can whip me into shape in no time and start using me to promote his business.

He takes extensive photos of my "before" body. Posing me so I look even flabbier than I actually am, all with the goal of emphasizing how fit and muscular I'm going to be in comparison later. I'm particularly embarrassed the little muffin top my tight pants make so I'm desperately grateful for his help. By the time we'd met, I was getting into a dangerous place. I'd started to really flirt with the idea of just letting myself go - I'd been failing for so long to achieve the lean the body I idealized that I wondered if I shouldn't just give up and lean into my shameful impulses. The intensity of the shame of standing there before him and seeing the number on the tape measure that he slung around my waist has my eyes bugging hard enough out of my head though to shut those thoughts down though. For all I'd thought myself comfortable with my chub in private or sharing in anonymously on the internet, for all the self-work I thought I'd done unpacking internalized fatphobia - standing in real life infront of this Greek god who's not into fat feeling like a pudgy little boy in comparison has me euphoric, gulping down shame like water after a 10 mile run.

We fall in love and he pays attention to every single thing I put in my mouth. Everyday, I know he's watching, judging my choices. He's constantly exacerbated by how oblivious I seem to be about what it takes to maintain visible abs. Reminding me constantly that I have a calorie limit and macro goals to adhere too, repeatedly catching me with junk in my hands or my head in the fridge when I'm meant to be cutting. He takes candid photos of the extra pudge I can't seem to ever shed peeking out of my clothes in unflattering ways to show me why I need to be more diligent. Everything about the relationship is perfect except that we constantly fight about my weight and how I'm not supporting him and his business by being dedicated enough to his regiments for me. I cry, genuinely wishing I had the self-control to achieve the sort of body we both want for me.

But there's no help for me. His scrutiny is the only thing preventing me from blowing up into a real chub, and he secretly loves to remind me what we both know deep down, but refuse to practically acknowledge: at the end of the day, I'm nothing but a fat pig and that's never gonna change.

#gaining #gay gainer #fat belly #fat humiliation #exjock #fatboy #getting bigger #wg story #wg text

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arcgeminga · 2 years

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@goldenlightofhope -- Athena Sasha to Gemini Defteros

“Defteros…”

Everything has happened so quickly. Just a few months ago, Aspros had tried to assassinate the Pope, however, the Pope and Asmita knew of his plans and stopped him. She was only told about this a few days after. Defteros who was unfortunately controlled by his brother got free and killed his brother to save the Pope. Since there was no Gemini saint now, Defteros was the new Gemini saint. He was immediately given the title and cloth and he quickly left to Kanon Island before Sasha could even speak with him. Now that he was back in the Sanctuary temporarily, she could finally speak to him.

“I hope you have been well.”

♛┊ It’s been the first time in a couple of months since the last time he came out of Kanon Island. As soon as he defeated the Specter residing in the volcano, he took the role of the ‘Demon’ and lived in the wilderness of that island for a little over six months.

It was an extremely rough adjustment, living alone in the wilderness... but after being coached by Regulus a few times, Defteros was thriving.

...well, “thriving”. More like surviving. Or barely. He may have had just a few little escapes after he found several mushrooms on the island. Especially on his birth month. If he could hallucinate Aspros with him, he would do that every day if he could. Too bad Dégel severely scolded him after that fiasco of a ‘birthday’ that first full month of isolation. He had to keep off those things for nearly two months to avoid another scolding (and, plus, he was rattled with the threat of Kardia’s Scarlet Needle. Like hell he’ll suffer that...)

So, aside from the visits from Regulus, Dégel, and, rarely, Sisyphus, Defteros was left to himself on Kanon Island. Which was fine. After sobering up and actually looking after himself, Defteros became accustomed to life in the wild. After all, humans were an extremely adaptable species.

Which is why it was extremely weird to be surrounded by humans again. Like a wolf prowling unsafe grounds, Defteros found himself keeping a close eye on the men around him--untrusting and ready to defend himself. Deep inside, though, he knew that it was silly to be on the defensive. He was above all of these foot solders in regard to sheer strength. Only the foolish would charge at a beast. And, luckily, they recognized that he was the newly appointed Gold Saint even if he left the Gemini Cloth in Kanon Island to self-repair. Some of the soldiers stared as if they never saw a shirtless man before... (Pathetic whelps.)

Defteros avoided going up the temples to the Papal chambers. He followed old underground and hidden routes when he found one of his favorite entrances and quietly exited it from a double-sided mirror somewhere within the Pope’s chambers. He’s been to the top of the mountain once--when Aspros had controlled him with the Demon Emperor Fist... Once was all he needed to map out the temple.

After passing the grand alabaster doors into The Hall, the beast of a man strutted across the crimson carpet until he stopped to offer a brief bow to the sitting Goddess.

♛┊ “I pray the Goddess Athena is in good health?” Defteros’ voice had alarmingly roughened from his constant roaring in attempts to intimidate poachers. He has been trying to keep his screeching to a minimum since the day Regulus harshly scolded him and then nursed him back to decent health after the kid walked into the volcano during a very unflattering moment a month ago.

To relieve the scratch, the Gemini Saint turned his head and coughed into his hand before he returned his attention to Sasha. “I’ve been in questionable health in the beginning of my isolation, but I’m fine. Is there any urgent reason for the summon?”

He wasn’t against idle chatting--after all, socialization help keep the death-harboring loneliness away... However, Defteros really couldn’t talk for too long unless he wanted to be forced to keep his mouth shut for an entire week again...which he didn’t, honestly. Those poachers back home were annoyingly persistent if there was no one to scare them.

#Defteros;;#goldenlightofhope #goldenlightofhope;SashaAthena #(SORRY AGAIN FOR THE LENGTH--JUST SETTING UP BEFORE WE GET TO THE MEAT OF THINGS)#♛┊ Queued Reply

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goshikitsutomusmommy · 3 years

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“Incorrect Quotes with Haikyuu Boys„

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10

Synopsis : Different Quotes From Brooklyn-Nine-Nine as Haikyuu Characters

Genre : Comedy

Pairing(s) : Goshiki x reader , Atsumu x reader , Tsukishima x reader , Lev x reader

Word Count : 1.07k

Warning(s) : She/her pronouns used , slight violence , slight timeskip spoiler

Masterlist Link : Here

*Shiratorizawa manager in this*

[Name] : Mm. All right. Haha, C’est la vie (“It’s life.” in French). Let me grab your student ID numbers ‘cause I will be filing an official student complaint with Coach Washijou.

[Name] , Semi , Shirabu : *All laugh the joke off waveringly whilst Semi and Shirabu side glancing each other*.

Coach Washijou : Why did a just receive a student complaint about ya two?

Shirabu : I can answer this. Because our manager is a goblin.

*Shiratorizawa manager in this*

Coach Washijou : Ye’ll stay after school hours at the gym for extra practice today.

Goshiki : Darn it. I had a belly dancing class today! Today is Egyptian undulation.

[Name] : Ooh!~ Show us some moves!

Goshiki : Sure! *Tries to get on top of the bench*.

Coach Washijou : Dismissed!

Kyoutani : It’s my birthday. I hate birthdays. If you wish me a happy birthday, I will punch you.

Oikawa : You’re a funny little bird, Mad Dog-Chan. Happy birthday!

*Gets punched in the guts*

*Inarizaki manager in this*

[Name] : *Holds up two pictures* Here are two pictures. One is your gym locker and the other is a garbage dump in the Philippines. Can you tell which is which?

Atsumu : *Points to the right one*, That one is the dump?

[Name] : They’re both your locker!

Atsumu : Gah! A should’ve guessed that, that’s good!

*Inarizaki manager in this*

Part 1/3

Atsumu : A can see that yer upset, but let’s just sit down and talk about it.

[Name] : Done talking! *Throws boxing gloves*, Time to dance.

Atsumu : Fine. But a should warn ya. A took three years of tap.

*Inarizaki manager in this*

Part 2/3

Atsumu : Again, [Name], it’s so good to see ya. Just outta curiosity, how did ye find out about this?

[Name] : I’m the club manager at Inarizaki High... Kita-San told me. I know you’re trying to set me up with some guy in class 7 as a joke!

Atsumu : What? That’s crazy! ‘Samu, come in ‘ere and stand in front of ma body and tell ‘er that’s crazy!

*Atsumu gets punched by the manager*

Atsumu : Ow! My lucky face!

[Name] : You gonna talk to me now?

Atsumu : Sure. If ya could be any vacation—

*Gets punched again*

Atsumu : Ow!

*Inarizaki manager in this*

Part 3/3

Atsumu : So we good?

[Name] : We good. And for the record... If I can be any kind of vacation... I’d be lake trip.

Atsumu : Classic!

*Karasuno manager in this*

Nishinoya : Come on. You’re not even moving. Let’s go.

Asahi : Get your hands off me! I’ve heard about this in the news! You’re cyber-bullying me!

Nishinoya : Shh!

Asahi : I’m getting [Name]! Get the hell away from me!

Nishinoya : No, you’re very misinformed. Please don’t get [Name]—

*Slight timeskip spoiler*

*Karsuno manager in this*

[Name] : Here’s the plan: We’re gonna go to nationals, you’re gonna enjoy and fall in love with volleyball, you’re gonna want to pursue being a volleyball player as a career. And that’s a [Surname] guarantee.

Tsukishima : Your last [Surname] guarantee you made was that you could dunk a basketball.

*Flashback*

[Name] : *In a ladder with a basketball in hand*, I never said I couldn’t use a ladder. [Surname] guarantee achieved! *Tries dunking the basketball but falls off the ladder and misses the shot*.

*Nekoma manager in this*

Part 1/3

Kuroo : Now, I have been taking notes on points of friction in this gym for three years. *Pulls out a poster that is highly detailed with work flow strategies for Nekoma*, The red areas are places where no work gets done. If we can fix these problems without anyone knowing what we’re doing, we will make progress.

Coach Nekomata : Are you saying you want to secretly perform scientific experiments on your friends and colleagues to increase efficiency?

Kuroo : Yes.

Coach Nekomata : Sounds fun, let’s do it.

*Nekoma manager in this*

Part 2/3

Coach Nekomata : Tell me about the Haiba-[Surname] reaction...

Kuroo : Lev gets cold a lot because of what he calls his—

*Flashback*

Lev : Medically diagnosed thin skin.

*Flashback over*

Kuroo : So he goes to the lost and found, and he grabs something that’s usually unflattering... That’s when [Name] usually gets involved.

*Flashback*

*Lev walking past [Name] wearing an oddly knitted sweater*

[Name] : *Condescending laughter* Sweet sweater, Lev! You look like you’re starting in an Albanian remake of The Cosby Show.

Lev : ...

[Name] : Dr. Huxtable! Dr. Huxtable!

*Flashback over*

Kuroo : [Name] is completely useless when Lev is wearing lost and found clothes.

Coach Nekomata : Well, I can’t really blame her on this one. Maybe we should just uh... empty lost and found.

Kuroo : Already done, sir.

*Lev walking past them in a white cowboy fringed jacket*

Kuroo : Don’t worry! I had a backup plan. I distracted [Name] with a mirror. She’s like a cockatiel, sir— Fascinated by her own reflection...

*[Name] staring at her reflection*

[Name] : Muah! Hello, sexy!~ How are you?

Lev : *Not glancing up* Right back at ya!

Coach Nekomata : Well done...

*Nekoma manager in this*

Part 3/3

Kuroo : Sir, I’m begging you, please, we have to stop!

Coach Nekomata : The problem is, we didn’t take Yaku into accounts. In our next trial—

*[Name] clears her throat whilst dramatically turning around on the office chair*

[Name] : Hello, boys. Welcome to your own office!~ I hear you’re trying to make the precinct most efficient.

Kuroo : [Name], what are you doing in the coach’s chair?

[Name] : I’ve narrowed the problem down to one location: The Coach-Kuroo vortex. Things would go a lot faster if the two of you did less experimenting and more working... And I’m not the only one who thinks that.

*Double clapping and the whole Nekoma team enters the office*.

Coach Nekomata : Well, I suppose it’s possible we may have been a tad enthusiastic in our pursuit of efficiency—

Kuroo : Really? A tad, Icarus?

Coach Nekomata : Fine, message received. Kuroo and I will get right to work.

[Name] : *Still in Coach’s chair*, Great, that will be all. Thank you.

Coach Nekomata : Get the hell out of my chair.

[Name] : Yeah, All right, I pushed it a little bit on that one. Okay~ Bye!

Kuroo : Today we face the worst Tokyo has to offer— Fukurodani Academy.

*Kuroo and Bokuto walking in slow motion towards each*

Kuroo : Fukurodani captain, Bokuto, we meet again.

Bokuto : Nekoma captain, Kuroo, your fly’s down— I made you look!

Kuroo : I didn’t look. And I’m wearing shorts, so there is no fly.

Bokuto : That’s not what your mom said.

Kuroo : You make no sense.

Bokuto : And now I’m inside your head.

{Pretend this is a divider pls}

Author’s Note : GAHHAHSA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 90 NOTES, I can make this a series if you’d like, they’re really fun to make and think of as characters and I just have to write them down as soon as I see them LMAOO

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

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COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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ameliacareful · 5 years

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Dean as a Masculine Archtype

Seeing Dean as sexist and somewhat abusive is hard for viewers, not so much because Jensen Ackles is gorgeous (he is, and my personal opinion, as a Sam!stan is that Ackles is better looking than Padalecki, but I just like Sam) but because the show uses cinematography, musical cues, and character interactions to say that Dean’s behavior is fine and Sam is a prude.

In 2004, culturally, there was nothing wrong with Dean’s behavior. Dean likes and objectifies women and has an Asian fetish but when he behaves like a cad, he is the butt of the joke. He catcalls and the woman shuts him down—joke’s on Dean. In counter balance, when Dean meets Donna, he is clearly appalled by her ex’s fat shaming. See, good guy!

Eric Kripke created a story that celebrated the values of the white midwestern working class—do your job no matter how hard or how much you hate it. And hung the signifiers of that on Dean; classic rock, a classic car, an ability to hold your liquor. Dean is very much like Indiana Jones. He’s sexy and really, a terrible candidate for a boyfriend. It’s James Dean. Hell, it’s George Gordon Lord Byron, one of the earliest bestselling authors.

That’s stamped in the show’s DNA. The way Dean’s bad boy, mostly lone wolf ethos is coded is deep in our culture. The show rarely casts Dean in a way that makes his behavior inexcusable. And we’ve been culturally trained by thousands of hours of media and music to see him as a good guy. And he’s funny and sentimental.

But Supernatural is an aging show that bridges the startling transition of #metoo. When Busty Asian Beauties first showed up it was a joke about the kind of loser that orders a bride from the Philippines. And ‘busty’ is not at all associated with yellow fever, the preference for Asian women (who are objectified as small, exotic, and submissive, not curvaceous). It was a way to make Dean a red blooded American male who likes porn while softening it with something coded as pointedly unrealistic and a little absurd.

So we don’t see Dean hitting on tiny Asian girls with D cups because if we saw it, we’d be appalled. When Dean talks about checking out cheerleaders, he’s dressed ludicrously in a rather unflattering ‘coach outfit’ because Dean in a henley and jeans checking out teens for their legality is creepy but Dean dressed like a dork (so hard to pull off with Ackles because he makes clothes look good) is coded to say ‘these girls are gonna laugh, just like us’.

The politically correct view is voiced by Sam who is repeatedly cast as the Puritan, kale eating, socially awkward guy who takes it all too seriously. Sam’s straightman act allows us to identify with Dean when he’s inappropriate.

Remove Sam, remove the way Dean’s behavior is downplayed or normalized, and his sexism is less palatable. It’s also pretty much invisible because it’s classic white male behavior in America. To condemn Dean is to swim against a cultural undertow. It’s why only 36% of the Writers Guild of America is female on only 12% of showrunners are women. It’s why women enter the workplace at the same rate as men but men are hugely more likely to be promoted to the next level of management, even though women are putting off children and so tend to be childless at that point in their career.

It’s not at all hard to understand why people love Dean. He’s made to be lovable for women and men. But it would be nice if we could see the character in the cultural context that makes him lovable. And it’s not at all surprising that now we rarely see Dean on screen successfully picking up a woman; because it’s funny when Dean celebrates Valentine’s Day by telling Sam it’s great. Not so funny if we see him trolling for a desperate drunk woman.

#spn #dean winchester #dean critical #meta #cultural commentary

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trubilee · 3 years

Text

so i guess i’ll write (blogwrite?) now.

today we were authorized for early release at D, the way we are whenever there’s a holiday, so i decided to use up my 3 hours of company-gifted time to try and write this morning (not write this blog, but write other stuff, which tired me so now i am writing this blog as my treat for this last hour).

it has been a challenge to write these past several months. i sort of think i know why, or i know what triggered it at least. not sure why the difficulty persists but i guess i could pat myself on the back for trying this morning.

there are a lot of things i’ve been wanting to write about. in no particular order, my performance eval at work, my strange quarantine life-related skincare fixation journey (oh, the ups and downs), wes and happiness and my odd overthinking of it sometimes, the chasing francis book i finished a couple weeks ago, the funeral last week, and... hmm. maybe that’s around everything i can think of. oh, music in the time of rona too. also stuff in me that the writing has kicked up. i guess i could try. oh, and my bras of choice during these WFH times. maybe a little about daisy and the vaccine.

so. performance eval. it went extremely well. we took the full hour. my leader L is not the type to give much feedback, but in the first half of that hour she basically looked straight at me and told me all the things i would’ve wanted to hear. about client group 1, and 2, and 3, the breadth and versatility and equal parts drafting and interpersonal connecting components of them all. i repeated it all to paul when i told him how it went, and really, really it was everything i would’ve wanted to hear from her. i was praying thanks to God as she was talking to me through the screen, because i was just absorbing all the words that i had been so hungry to have her give to me this whole past year. and there are so many things to it too. things like, i know i am not perfect and everything to everyone the way i think i should--even could be--and i can’t necessarily just say to myself “oh but nobody is” because actually, at this company, there are some people who are, they really really are just so good, and i feel so bad just taking in how good they are at thinking on their feet and killing it at getting things done here, and being so articulate and effective at communicating and dynamic and all of it. anyway, the conversation felt so... whole-making. hahaha. make-whole-ing? another part of it is that i have always been grateful for the job, i always felt like it was suck a lucky winning when i shouldn’t have necessarily landed it and with that came this default set of thoughts that went, oh they hate me. oh they think i am inept. oh they see how inept i am. they regret hiring me. i don’t want them to regret hiring me. that would be one of my worst fears, jobwise. to burden someone with my existence on their team. i know that it’s healthy to think that a company is lucky to have you and to know your worth and all, but bc i’m kind of acquainted with my own versions of total failure, i’m not good at thinking that way. i’m always thinking that i’m lucky to work for X company. it would probably make many a leadership coach or asian american advancement advocate grimace. i’m sure it’s a handicap to me careerwise, salarywise, etc etc, but asking me to fix it is like asking mesomeone to stop being insecure. in that, it's not something you can change by will. it almost feels like a part of my dna, not just some protective armor. this is why i sort of roll my eyes inside when someone announces that she (it’s usually a she) has imposter syndrome. it’s unfair, i know, but i almost want to look around and say, wait is that not just the normal state of things? why are you acting like it’s some sort of unusual complex that you have? i thought everyone, anyone with any noonchi, had that. that’s like saying that--gasp--you don’t think you’re the absolute sh*t. it doesn’t mean you're afflicted with anything. i should ease up a little.

damn. i only have 20 min left.

ok another thing about the performance eval. about which i joked to my leader, when she said we could have these conversations more regularly if we wanted to, that my heart could only take once a year at most. i was so relieved, so happy, i felt so uncaged afterwards. bc again, really it extinguished all of the unhelpful fears that had made me so tense about work this year. and part of me, the part that is always maybe a little too self aware, thought to myself, that gosh, if getting a positive review from my leader at some big company where i am a corporate peon is this satisfying to me, then perhaps my world, my dreams, are just rather small.

i was thinking about that and preemptively tried to put it to paul this way: that sometimes i feel very rich. not like money-wise, bc i know just enough of the wrong people to ever feel that way (lol). but more in a life-currency sort of way. like when i think about my little family of three, my son who is so perfectly delightful that i don’t even know how to--i don’t know how to appreciate him or even just take him in without feeling like his delightfulness is slipping through my fingers simultaneously with, even AS i’m, looking at him and trying to appreciate him and take him in (does that make any sense?), my husband who i have similar slightly overwhelmed feelings about when it comes to his quality as a human being and heart on this earth, and my mom and dad who both survived their different cancers. about how somehow God provided me with not just the friends i needed but even extra friends who i didn’t dare think i had a chance at asking for, and even this house, and having and seeing daisy and family regularly, and gosh even my inlaws who only seem to ever give and never receive (sorry, ommonim abbonim...) and my sister in law who i feel the same way about, and our nanny, and yes this job too, this job i once never thought i had the right to even dream of having bc of said past failures, this job for two companies brands i adore and believe in. and the chance to write, and feeling like i have something to write about. and even knowing a handful of living, breathing, non-robot human beings who actually read what i write, actually think it’s worth their time. what marvels.

on the other hand, sometimes i feel rather poor. i feel like we don’t have enough savings, we aren’t saving enough. i feel like we will always just need to work for a salary bc neither of us is in a job role where we make dividends happen for us. and i am so junior here at a place where promotions are slower than slow anyway, and salaries aren’t tech or finance salaries anyway. and i feel ugly and like a half-distracted working mom whose life is devoid of glamour or romance or margin or space or passion / vision. well, i guess my “poor” list is a lot shorter than my rich list.

all this to say, after my dumb performance eval i felt like a rich woman. not because they told me i was getting some big raise (i’m not, and i don’t generally care bc the raises are so small and have you seen the mass layoffs happening here). i felt rich bc i felt like i got really validating feedback from leaders i really admire, both on a professional and personal level, and i work on a team with colleagues who i think are really excellent at what they do, and i work at a company where i really like what they make. i feel kind of silly typing all of this out bc it’s so freaking wholesome and vanilla and, again, small, but it’s true. those things made me happy after my review. and this is the job i report to 8 hours a day. yep. real stable, ordinary stuff.

i told paul that in thinking about how happy i felt and feeling self-conscious about that happiness, i would rather feel like a rich woman and be objectively “poor” than to be the other way around. to feel like i am poor but in reality be quite rich.

it’s also funny bc B and G also specifically separately felt compelled to send me messages confirming this same exact thought, now that i think about it. how wonderful. thank you.

next topic. bras in rona times. yesterday i bought my fourth--no, lemme count--seventh! eberjey bra. it’s not bc i’m being greedy, it’s just that the ones i started with i wore so often that they jstarted wearing out. the eberjey bras are generally underwired, with no lining except a thin layer of lace, and they make my boobs--my post-maternity, seen-such-better-days, already wilted boobs look terrible under my clothes. but i am working from home and don’t need the extra lining for decency’s sake. and when i see the bras in my bra drawer and i deposit my boobs into them every morning it feels lovely. the bras are unflattering but they are delicate enough (while still practical) and comfortable to wear and are lovely to look at.

well i need to start my workday now. if i ever get around to it i’ll write about other stuff.

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spageddiekaspbrak · 6 years

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The Perks of Being A New Kid

Summary; Ben Hanscom was lucky enough to find himself welcomed into the losers’ club before his first day of school is even over. The one problem is Bill Denbrough, star baseball player and certified fuckboy. And The Bowers’ Gang. And gym class. Maybe there's more than one problem.

Word Count; 2019

AN; I fucking love fuckboy bill and I fucking love denscom. And steddie and British Richie. Don't even get me started on Ben having a southern accent. Anyways hope y'all like it, I worked pretty damn hard on it

Masterlist

“Aw fuck! Jesus Christ, fucking hell.” Ben recognized the British accent from earlier. It was Richie Tozier, a tall and lanky boy who had moved to Derry from Manchester, England three years ago and knew how it felt to be a new kid with an unusual accent. Ben had been touring the school with Stanley Uris, the student guide the office had assigned to him, when Richie has appeared out of nowhere and started a friendly sort of fight, the sort of fight Ben figured best friends often had with each other. Richie seemed nice enough, despite his punk clothing and how loud and trashmouthed he was. He had, after all, picked Ben fourth with a kind grin on his face, after Stan, a tall black boy named Mike, a redheaded girl named Bev.

A shrill whistle sounded and the dodgeball game stopped, everyone frozen except for Richie and his friends. A small boy sprung up from his seat on the bleachers and nearly sprinted over to Richie who was laying on the ground, a hand clutched to his bleeding nose. “This is why we aren't supposed to play dodgeball, Coach Ganley! People get hurt every single time! No wonder my mom makes me sit out! If I had gotten hurt, she'd be getting your ass fired.” The boy’s face was red through his freckles as he dug through his fanny pack, pulling out a cotton pad and shoving it up against Richie’s nose.

“Language, Kaspbrak!” Coach Ganley scolded before stepping in between the two teams, looking at the one opposite to Richie’s. “Who threw it?” Most eyes went to a tall, handsome, and toned boy who had his arms crossed. His shirt was snug around his biceps and he had a snapback set backwards on his head.

Before the gym teacher could get out a word, the boy from earlier spoke up. “Who do you think, Coach? William ‘gets away with everything because he's a star baseball player” Denbrough. Who else would it be?”

The kid now known to Ben as William smirked, sending a wink in the angry kid’s direction. “I get away with thuh-things for a very different reason, s-swe-e-sweetheart, I think you kn-know why. F-From those, uh, about four months we were suh-sleeping together?”

“Shut up, Denbrough! Back off my boyfriend!” Stan piped up, drawing himself to his full height and glowering at the other boy. The kids from earlier, Mike and Bev, stepped over, grabbing Stan’s shoulders. Ben was slightly offended Stan hadn’t mentioned he was dating someone, but figured Stan had assume from his southern accent that he was against gay people, most people did. He wasn’t though, for the record.

Ben felt like he had whiplash from looking from William, to Richie and the angry kid, Stan and his captors, and Coach Ganley who had a unhappy but amused smile on his face.

Before anyone else could say a word, the bell rang. Eddie pulled Richie up and dragged him towards the locker room. Stan and Mike followed suit, Mike gesturing for Ben to follow them. Bev split off, not before whispering something in a low voice to Mike and waving at Ben sweetly. His face reddened and he followed after Mike like a lost puppy.

The five boys grabbed their things and holed themselves up in the bathroom, Mike pushing the large door shut behind them and locking it. Richie hopped up onto one of the sinks, pulling the red stained cotton away from his already swollen nose. Eddie was already attacking him with wet paper towels, dabbing at the dried blood and the fresh blood that was joining it.

Stan was the first to start talking. “Mike, Eddie, you guys know how I told you I was gonna be the new kid’s student guide,” he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “This is Ben Hanscom, he moved here from Tennessee. Ben, you’ve met Richie, but this is Mike Hanlon and Eddie Kaspbrak.” There was a moment of cautious silence. “Eddie is my boyfriend.”

Ben smiled shyly, reaching to shake the hand Mike had extended to him. “It’s nice to meet y’all. Sorry it had to be on such bad terms.”

“Not your god damn fault Bill Denbrough is the worst fucking person on the planet.” Eddie sponged at Richie’s nose a little too hard and Richie hissed, snatching the paper towel away and tending to his nose himself.

Stan grabbed Eddie’s elbow gently, pulling Eddie towards himself and looking down at Eddie with a soft smile. Eddie’s face and body immediately relaxed as the two gave each other heart eyes. Ben had to resist gushing and cooing over how cute the two were. “I gotta ask, is it William or Bill?”

“Bill. Everyone calls him Bill, but his full name is William.” There was a moment of silence. “He and Eddie have….history. He’s kinda the worst. Total asshole.” Mike finally released Ben’s hand and gave him a half smile, plus a shrug.

“Stay away from him Benjamin, stay far far away.” Eddie warned, the left side of his face pressed against Stan’s chest as Stan rocked them from side to side gently.

“Yes sir.” Ben gave a little salute to Eddie and Richie snorted.

“I like you Benny, welcome to the losers’ club.” Richie got down from the sink, his nose finally done bleeding even though it was still large and a little purple.

“What?”

“The losers’ club. It’s what we call ourselves. Me, Bev, Eds, Mikey, and Stanny.” Richie pulled off his gym shirt and shorts. Ben snapped his eyes shut, face brightening at seeing Richie in his boxers, even if it was for a second. “And now you. So welcome.”

“Thanks,” Ben squeaked, feeling like his face was on fire. He could hear everyone else changing, but he stayed still and kept his eyes shut. At his old school, they hadn't been forced to change for gym. Ben wasn't one to complain, but these gym uniforms were uncomfortable and small and were an unflattering red against his yellow hair.

After a few minutes of silence, just the soft rustling of clothing and zippers being unzipped and zipped again, a hand tapped his shoulder. “You're good, Ben.” It was Mike’s voice. Ben liked Mike and sure hoped Mike wouldn't worry that he was a bigot or anything bad. He open his eyes, face still hot as he blinked away the blurriness.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, fixing his eyes on the tiles. He tapped his foot four times, pausing only to tap it four more times, then continuing the pattern.

“Do you want us to…,” Eddie’s voice trailed off. Ben nodded and kept his eyes downcast as the other four boys trickled one by one out of the bathroom. Mike squeezed Ben’s shoulder on the way out, pulling the door shut as he ended the parade leaving the bathroom. Immediately a weight fell off his chest, he didn't want to change in front of his new friends, nor anyone else.

Three lengthy and boring periods later, Ben was sitting around a lunch table with the rest of the “losers’ club” as Richie had called it earlier. He really liked these kids and was glad to already have found his niche in Derry. He was sandwiched between Bev and Eddie, Stan on the other side of Eddie, Richie next to Stan, Mike next to Richie, and back to Bev again. Not that Ben would admit it, but this was the biggest group of friends he had ever been in. Well, he hadn’t really had more than two friends before.

It seemed like Mike and Bev were dating, or at least talking, to Ben. Mike had an arm slung over the back of Bev’s chair, eating chips with his free hand as he smiled down at whatever she was doing on her phone. Ben could see Stan and Eddie’s knees pressed together on his other side and he blushed a little, feeling strange and boxed in. Richie flashed Ben a giant smile, stuffing a handful of Mike’s chips in his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I’m forever alone too, my darling Benny Boy. We’ll find your sweetcheeked self a pretty girly,” Richie spewed little bits of wet chips as he spoke, still chewing in between words. Everyone gave him a disgusted look as he leaned across the circular table, pinching Ben on his cheek.

“It’s uh..,” Ben coughed shyly after Richie let go of his face, “I don’t...you know…I kinda don’t swing that way?”

“Welcome to the club,” mumbled each and everyone of the losers. Ben did a double take and opened his mouth to speak before Richie cut him off.

“I put the bi back in little bitch, Mikey and Mrs. Marsh are fellow bisexuals, and the spaghetti man-“

“It’s Eddie, god damn it!”

“Stan and Eddie are gay obviously.” Richie and Eddie sent venomous looks to each other. Richie broke first, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue and Eddie giggled at that.

Ben tried not to notice the protective gesture of Stan putting his hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezing it. Stan’s hand barely lasted a second before Eddie was batting it away, still smiling casually although his body had tensed up.

All of a sudden, a tall boy with a blonde mullet was behind Eddie. He licked his hand and slapped it down on Eddie’s neck with an evil smirk playing on his lips. Eddie jumped to his feet, hands held up in the air like jazz hands as they trembled. His eyes were scrunched shut as Stan hurried to unzip his fanny pack and grab out some hand sanitizer.

As Stan rubbed the sanitizer into the back of Eddie’s neck, the kid scanned Ben up and down. “Fat, Pac Man shirt, baby face, fairy hair, hmph, you’ll fit right in here at the twink table.”

Richie was on his feet, reaching out as if he was going to throttle the kid. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, Henry Bowers. You absolute fucking twat!” Mike grabbed Richie by the back of his waistband and pulled the british boy back into his seat.

Henry gave all of the losers a shiteating grin before strolling away. Eddie and Stan moved too, presumably to the bathroom. Ben knew not to ask about it and stared at the salad his mom had absently shoved into his hands that morning.

“So! Has anyone invited Ben to Star Wars night tonight?” Bev asked, straightening up in her seat. Mike’s arm was no longer resting on the chair and her phone was face down on the table. It was clear she was trying to lighten the mood and ask as a distraction.

“No not yet, Mrs. Marsh, but now we have to!” Richie clucked his tongue, obviously joking when he shook his head and gave Bev a dismayed look. Richie scooted over into the chair that Eddie had previously occupied, slinging his arm around Ben’s shoulders and pressing a wet and joking kiss to Ben’s cheek. As gross as it was, Ben felt good about the kiss on the cheek. It made him feel warm inside. Not because he liked Richie, but because he hadn’t even been at this new school for an entire week yet and he had already been accepted into a new group. Not only accepted but he had been invited to a group hang out. “It’s at 7, the big red house on the corner of Turner and Pine. Lemme think of a landmark….if you go to Jerry’s Hard Liquor, it’s three blocks down then a left, all the way down and to the right. Stanny and his mommy just moved in with his stepdad.”

“We basically eat a pizza dinner with other snacks and soda, Star Wars music playing in the background. And then we usually do some trivia or a themed board game. Then a marathon, but only the first three movies. They’re the only good ones obviously.” Mike’s arm was back to its normal spot on Bev’s chair.

“It’s so much fun. You’ll love it, Ben.”

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wsrsetdr · 3 years

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yuurisolympicgold · 7 years

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Yuuri Week 2017, Day 6: (The Power of) Love Title: Heart on His Sleeve Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Nishigori Takeshi, Nishigori Yuuko. Pairings: Yuuri/Victor, Takeshi/Yuuko. Genres/Tags: Friendship, Romance, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon. Rating/Warnings: G/None. Summary: It was when Yuuri took his rightful place on a GPF podium that a dam broke; and Takeshi cried. Meanwhile, Yuuri is already planning to reach the next level and move above and beyond even more expectations.

It wasn’t the first time Takeshi was moved to tears over Yuuri’s skating. In his defense, that quad flip had been gorgeous, who could blame him?

Yu-topia had been bustling with activity since the end of the medal ceremony. Hiroko-san had slipped out of the room a few minutes ago with Makkachin to pray at Vicchan's shrine in Yuuri's stead. Minami was currently talking just as loudly and exuberantly as his daughters. He clearly thought he was Yuuri’s #1 Fan. Takeshi almost felt bad for the kid. No one would ever overthrow Victor for that title.

When Yuuri had left with his childhood idol and coach, he and Yuuko knew this could be his last run. Yuuri was given a second chance and he ran with it, ready to show the world what he was truly capable of. His route to a Grand Prix Final redemption had its highs and lows; a second place finish at Cup of China, a narrow qualification into the final following the Rostelecom Cup. After everything that happened, Takeshi thought he'd be ready for any outcome in Barcelona.

He was wrong. None of that could have prepared him for this moment. Not for the overwhelming pressure building in his chest as he watched Yuuri stand, expression neutral and hands folded behind his back while the bronze medal was awarded. It was when Yuuri took his rightful place on a Grand Prix Final podium that a dam broke; and Takeshi cried. Then he kept crying, unabashedly and without abandon.

He cried for his childhood friend who had given up so much to chase his dreams. Who had to uproot his life and move to another continent by himself because he didn't have a coach who could train him locally; a privilege other skaters took for granted. Who had unknowingly missed the last years of his beloved dog's life only to feel like it was all for nothing because of one bad performance in Sochi. How it had caused him to downspiral so much he was contemplating retirement.

He cried for his childhood friend who never seemed to recognize his own worth and accomplishments and instead hyper focused on his failures. Who wasn’t considered a prodigy, but made up for it in other ways. Who let life and happiness pass him by for so long then finally—finally allowed himself to hold onto someone he loved only to be rewarded when that same love was not only returned, but held back just as tightly.

He cried for Yuuri's heartbreaks, his triumphs. He cried for everything that had shaped his friend into the man he was today and the man he would become in the next years following his return as Japan's Ace.

“Oh, Takeshi...”

Yuuko's voice was fond as she she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her hand rubbed soothing circles into his arm as she turned her proud gaze back to the screen. Yuuri was holding up his medal now, looking both so demure yet happy and—Takeshi's nose snorted loudly as he inhaled, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. He gave a particularly unflattering wet blow into the napkin his wife handed him.

“This is just the beginning, you know,” She remarked. “Hiroko-san’s going to need a much bigger case to store all his future medals in.”

It wasn’t like Yuuri didn’t already have a nice collection of awards. Since he was a Junior, Yuuri had been the Japan Skating Federation’s golden child. They’d had high hopes for him since he was thirteen. Yet until now he never realized how much impact he had on Japan’s skating. He was their future and dozens of kids watching from home who were now just taking to the ice would grow up idolizing him. Kids who would cite him as their reason and their influence to skate in the first place. It was both a surreal and uplifting thought.

When Yuuri and Victor returned home Yuuri wasn’t surprised by the gathering waiting outside Yu-topia. His parents and Mari were there of course along with Takeshi, Yuuko, Minako and Minami. The triplets were holding up a banner they had to peak over the edge to see. There were also at least a dozen guests his parents had invited to the screening.

Yuuri embraced the warm and light feeling as more guests from the small town came bringing food and drink, then the party celebrating both his homecoming and success was in full-swing. Before long the festivities began spilling outside, the air full of conversation and laughter. It was into the second hour when Takeshi cornered him.

“So where is it?” He started by way of greeting. “Remember we promised years ago that whoever won a medal at a Senior level Grand Prix Final first has to let the other hold it.”

Yuuri shook his head with a smile. Of course when Takeshi had made him promise they were both Juniors and the idea seemed more like a dream. He undid the first few buttons of his jacket and tugged the ribbon free.

Takeshi whistled. “Nice. The final scores were so close too. It's mind-boggling.” He released Yuuri’s medal and stepped back. “So tell me, Yuuri. You landed a quad flip in competition. You embodied Eros for an entire season—I was very turned on by the way—now you’re on the road to Worlds against Victor. Is there anything else I should know about Japan’s Ace?”

He watched as Yuuri idly rubbed the medal’s ribbon between his fingers. He looked like he was in thought so Takeshi waited patiently.

Yuuri met his gaze contemplatively and finally answered. “Well, I’ve been working on landing a quad axel consistently in practice.”

A beat passed where the two friends simply looked at each other. Yuuri shifted awkwardly, eyebrow lifting in askance. Another beat passed, then Takeshi's jaw dropped.

“Wait a minute,” Takeshi sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyes. The way Yuuri had worded it was so nonchalant too... “Did you say you’ve been trying to land it ‘consistently?’ Does...does that mean you actually have?”

Yuuri worried his bottom lip and sighed in frustration. “My success rate is basically non-existent. I roughly landed it a few times, but my leg was wobbly and I still often lose my footing. I'm working on getting enough height for the extra ½ rotation. I can consistently reach 4, but anymore and I usually end up eating ice or the boards—”

“Yuuri,” Takeshi cut in incredulously. “You can’t have been practicing it for very long and you’re already almost sticking the landing! On a quadruple axel.” He paused. “What does Victor think?” There was no need to ask if Victor knew. Of course he knew.

Yuuri smiled thoughtfully. “He said I don’t need it to win, but if anyone can do it, he-he said it should be me...” He trailed off.

Takeshi hummed in thought. Axels were notoriously difficult with the extra half rotation, yet Yuuri somehow managed to make them look easy. The triple axel was his favorite jump and also one of his most reliable. Logically it did make sense that Yuuri should be the one to take that next step and oh, what a history making step that would be. As a lifelong skating fan, the idea of witnessing a successfully landed quadruple axel at all was exhilarating.

“You know, I think he’s right,” Takeshi said. He paused in consideration. “Maybe that’s why my little Axel favors you so much. She’s named after your favorite jump after all,” He quipped.

“Not that joke again,” Yuuri couldn’t help the bubble of laughter. He felt loose and comfortable. There was a lot of work ahead of him, but these days no dream felt as untouchable as they once did.

Takeshi felt anticipation build in the way only something new and exciting can inspire. The next five or so years were sure to be interesting in the figure skating world. Yuuri would be the first skater to land a quad axel in competition. He would make it his signature move. Not to mention with Yuuri’s stamina he would probably have it in the back half of his programs for added points. Takeshi felt his fingers itch to find a pen and paper to readjust what Yuuri’s score could look like. As exciting as that prospect was it also wasn’t the only opportunity Yuuri had to make history.

“And now you’re going to be facing your coach as a fellow competitor.” Takeshi still had no idea how that was supposed to work but nevertheless. “Think you’re ready to take him on?”

Yuuri considered his answer.

“It really all comes down to one thing; I’ve spent most of my life chasing Victor. Now I want him to chase me.”

It’s around three hours after the party is in full swing when Yuuri takes a breather from the festivities. As the guest of honor he felt guilty about slipping away, but he needed a few minutes to himself. He felt he could as the guests were steadily becoming more intoxicated. Minako and his dad were especially keen on pulling anyone dubiously willing into dance competitions.

He wanted to spend as much time with his family and friends as possible before his move to Russia. He was already making preparations to leave home for another extended absence. He wasn’t nervous about moving to Victor’s apartment in St. Petersburg. It wasn’t like his move to Detroit. Back then he felt like he was leaving everything he considered home behind. He couldn’t pinpoint when he’d started associating ‘home’ with Victor, but he felt that was why he was in a state of calm despite having to go through another impending culture shock. He wouldn’t have to adjust without help this time.

The screen slid open behind him, the din from the party temporarily filling the quiet space before being shut out again. A rustle of clothing and he knew it was Victor seated next to him.

After a few moments of comfortable silence Yuuri broke it with a chuckle. Victor looked over at him in confusion.

“I guess it’s a delayed reaction,” Yuuri explained with a shrug. “That we’re really doing the whole coach/competitor thing. I don’t think it’s sunk in until now how crazy it sounds. Nationals are less than two weeks away as well...”

He paused.

“I hope you’re ready for the first installment on your coach’s fee,” Yuuri said with a wink. He didn’t know what specifically brought on his need for light banter. He was just feeling good right now.

Victor looked momentarily surprised. Then he grinned. “I don’t know, Yuuri. Are you sure you can keep up with me?”

“Are you implying I can’t?”

“Oh Yuuri, what’s a little competitive bite between us, hmm?”

Yuuri giggled and bumped their shoulders together. “I know I’m ready to prove more people wrong. To anyone who hasn’t taken us seriously.” Then he added playfully. “If you think you can extend your reign though you’re going to have your work cut out for you. I’m backloading everything, remember. It won’t be easy for you,” He teased.

He was met with one of Victor’s most brilliant smiles yet.

“I would never expect it any other way.”

#yuuriweek #day: 6 #theme: home #theme: celebration #theme: love #katsuki yuuri #yuuri katsuki #queue #fic

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yoireverse · 7 years

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changing room

((this idea occurred in a chat and i, currently, am dying ♥♥♥ this takes place around the time of flipped ep 4, ie, when victor is trying to nail his program music for his FS. see rivalry for a lead-in! ♥))

summary: Victor groans. Yuuri Katsuki: Unexpected Fashion Disaster.

He has to amend this travesty. word count: 1.4k rating: g ✮read on ao3 | ✮rev au fics | ✮rev au art →my personal blog | →em’s art blog!

Victor looks up from his book to glance up at his new coach. Yuuri is sitting on the ground, rubbing Yukachin’s belly, and cooing to the big fluffball.

This is the fourth day that Yuuri’s pulled a turtleneck out of the drawer in Victor’s dresser. The color scheme of the man’s clothing is generally pretty muted - lots of gray, blue, and black; maybe red accents in splashes. Victor’s seen his coach in jerseys, turtlenecks, oversized sweaters, and huge coats.

Now that they’ve been living together for a couple of months, Victor realizes that, regardless of Yuuri’s infrequent shopping trips for a few more outfits, this is just the older man’s preference.

It makes him groan. Yuuri Katsuki: Unexpected Fashion Disaster.

He has to amend this travesty.

“Yuuri,” Victor starts, hating the fact that his voice comes out a little croaky from disuse. “Don’t you have anything...else to wear?”

The older man peers over the top of his glasses, and honestly, if Victor weren’t actively trying to repress his urge to sit beside Yuuri and poke his cheeks, he’d scream. “Mm. Are my clothes weird?”

“They are outdated and frumpy,” Victor bluntly replies and Yuuri yelps, withdrawing into himself. “Let’s go shopping!”

Yuuri pouts as he pushes himself away from the floor, standing with his hands on his hips. “Are they really that bad?”

Victor, who had grown up used to posters and images of Yuuri in regal colors and clinging fabric, is now glancing up and down at his idol’s clothes. His neck is covered by a baby-blue fabric and the track pants are unflattering on Yuuri’s curvy hips.

Everything he’s wearing is two sizes too big, and Victor sighs. “Come on. I’ll pick out something nice for you to wear!”

“Where will I wear it?” Yuuri asks, fumbling a bit as Victor takes his hand, pats Yukachin on the head, and hurries to grab his keys and wallet. “Victor!”

“Anywhere you want.” Victor beams.

If they ever go out for dinner, or, heaven forbid, a date, Yuuri will look fantastic across from him at the table. Victor is a master thrift shopper, but this isn’t the day for that. Really successful thrifting takes time and effort. Yuuri has shown himself to have no patience for shopping if he’s not buying groceries, so instead, they’re going to some of his favorite stores.

There are several unsuccessful outfit trials before Yuuri tiredly grumbles about grabbing something to eat. Victor gets both of them roasted potatoes from a street vendor and they nibble for a few minutes before continuing the journey. After Victor’s usual routes are expended, he decides to head for a boutique store that catches his eye, especially with so many floral patterns featured in the window.

Yuuri pinches the bridge of his nose and stifles a yawn as Victor slinks an arm over his coach’s shoulder. “How about that place?” Some of the clothes on display look a bit risqué and Yuuri colors, about to shake his head, but Victor leers. “C’mon, you could at least try a few things on. You’ve worn skimpier things for competitions.”

“Th-That’s different!” The older man scowls at Victor. “I can put on a persona on the ice. It’s just a dance, essentially. I can’t just...walk out on the street in some of that stuff.”

“Why not?” Victor shrugs shamelessly and Yuuri gapes at the taller man. “My rule is, do what you want and let other people talk. At least they’re talking about you, right?”

I will never understand this mentality, Yuuri thinks to himself, surprised to find that he’s been tugged into the store.

Once the two men are inside, Victor speaks rapid-fire Russian with the sales clerk and comes up with three well-crafted outfits, all in semi-neutral colors. Yuuri glances at the details and flushes, narrowing his eyes at his innocent-looking pupil and the woman giggling that has all the clothes carefully balanced on her arms.

After sorting through pants and shirts, Yuuri emerges from the dressing room in a showstopper, hair slightly mussed because of all the clothing changes. Victor’s mouth falls open at the sight of the shorter man standing tiredly, eyes slightly red, hands resting at his sides.

Yuuri looks like a runway model, dressed in such crisp lines. He puts his glasses on in a slow motion, turns around to nervously inspect his backside as best he can, and asks, “You don’t think these pants are too tight?”

Victor’s blue eyes are glued to every cling of the matte black jeans. The button-down that Yuuri has tucked into it has sheer lace around the cut of Yuuri’s shoulders makes him swallow dryly. It has flowers incorporated into the peekaboo part of the shirt. His coach looks. He looks...

“Yuuri, you look amazing,” Victor breathlessly comments, clutching his chest, aware that his pulse must be racing out of control. Yuuri snorts and it makes his lips fall just a bit. “It’s true! You really, really do. It’s borderline illegal.”

At that, the older man looks down at the floor and puts his thumbs in the pockets. “Well, these don’t feel too bad, honestly. Kinda stretchy. I could go for this outfit.”

Victor’s back goes ramrod straight, nodding his head five times quickly. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!! I’ll totally buy it myself, just so you can wear clothes that I got you.” Yuuri’s still blushing a bit, and that makes Victor smirk. “Kinda cool, huh?”

“Oh, shut it,” Yuuri says, squinting at the price tags and pursing his lips. “I can at least go half, these are expensive.” When he looks up, Victor has already dashed off. “Victor?”

“Too late,” Victor replies softly, handing the clerk his credit card and sticking his left leg up in jittery excitement.

Yuuri snorts at his antics, watching as Victor gestures wildly and a woman comes up to him to clip off the tags so that he can just wear the outfit out of the store.

Yuuri is already quite well-known in St. Petersburg. He’s a handsome foreigner and a figure skater, besides. A lot of people in this town are dialed into the skating scene, and, well, Yuuri stands out.

Now, Victor is hovering within Yuuri’s general bubble, trying to give off a vibe that his coach isn’t available for courting. Women are staring at him openly and Yuuri himself is walking awkwardly, still trying to get used to the feeling of his clothes. With such nice clothing on, Yuuri needs to get new shoes - Victor insists - so they stop into a leather goods store and Victor buys him shiny loafers.

By the time they slump back into the apartment to feed Yuka and let her take care of her business, Yuuri is ready to peel himself out of his clothes, but Victor insists on taking a few selfies before the outfit is retired for the day.

Once Yuuri finally puts his sweatpants on and a comfy t-shirt, Victor smiles. “Thanks for playing along with me. I know it was hard.”

Yuuri adjusts his position on the couch, yawning as he toys with his phone, smiling softly as his bangs fully fall out his gelled style. “It wasn’t too bad, actually. I just don’t know how I’m going to wash that and keep it looking nice. Definitely can’t pick up any more weight and keep wearing that.”

“That was absolutely incredible Yuuri - you could pull something that wonderful off no matter what size you were,” Victor insists and Yuuri slumps further into the couch. “I had a great time. Thanks.”

Yuuri waves at his student with a tired smile. “Yeah. Same here. G’night, Victor.”

Victor picks up his phone and Yukachin pads around Yuuri for a while before following Victor back to the bedroom. The younger man gives his coach a longing look before whispering back, “G’night,” and heading to his bed.

When he crawls under the covers, absently scratching Yuka’s chin, he flicks through his photos and lingers all of Yuuri’s tender expressions, paying special attention to the soft look Yuuri gives him while they’re standing in the kitchen.

It’s so horribly domestic, and Victor hates that he wants more.

He’s a greedy man, and Yuuri is so beautiful he could cry.

He makes it a goal to expand Yuuri’s wardrobe so dramatically that all of his coach’s clothes don’t just fit in one drawer.

fun fact, yuuri’s outfit is from this ref - do with that what you will. thanks for reading! ♥

#txt #mod: ash #reverse fic #yoi #yuri on ice

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wfitvacations · 4 years

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12 Health Retreat Hacks (That You Can Do At Home This Weekend)

Nurture, reboot and deep clean your fitness habits

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When people practice action, they develop associations in memory between the action and aspects of the context in which it typically occurs. – American Psychological Association

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1. Change your home environment and routine

Breaking up is hard to do, whether it’s quitting the habit of being perpetually 5 minutes late, or smoking.

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Try a new drink at Starbucks! Meet a friendly person from yoga class for a tea – be open to new friends.

Reorganize your wardrobe, donating, selling or gifting everything you no longer wear.

Treat yourself to an afternoon makeover at your local mall – makeup, new outfit and trip to the hairdresser.

Challenge yourself to change the little things that you do daily, to make way for creating healthier habits.

20 small tips from our best wellness retreats – to make today more meaningful

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As soon as you know that you’re going to a weight loss resort, you’ll probably get a push of motivation. Whether that’s cleaning up your habits, or starting to exercise more, booking a trip gives you a future landmark. Behavioural scientists call it ‘The Fresh Start Effect” – an important time on the calendar that helps get started on goals. The study researched 3 key patterns following landmarks: google searches for diet, gym visits and commitments to pursue goals.

Commit to an upcoming landmark like New Year, birthdays, Mondays or semesters to shift your routine.

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Go to the bookstore and browse journals – I personally love productivity planners!

Get yourself ready; organize your food, groceries, workout clothes and gym classes to start that day.

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3: Spend the afternoon planning, organizing and envisioning

Women’s weight loss retreats are BIG on making lists and action plans. Lists are such a rewarding and proactive way to plan a fresh start in the things that you do daily. In our group coaching sessions, I work with guests to guide them towards realistic checklists – that align with their lifestyle.

Write down everything you do for your health for one week. Include meditation, exercise, food, beverages, sleep.

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Create columns, today, next week, next month. You can also look at quitting one negative thing per month.

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There are some health vacations that are mostly indoors, focusing on consulting, personal training and fitness classes. Yet the best weight loss retreat for adults (in my opinion) will get outside as much as possible. There’s so much activity that gets the heart rate up; hiking, power walking, biking, kayaking and outside fitness classes. Being in nature is truly refreshing and inspiring, important to me anywhere I travel.

Next time you’re in a new city unsure whether there’s a safe park around, take a cab. The driver will know!

Take time to walk, relax, stretch and let your mind wander in the forest – at least once a week.

Not sure where the safest forest is near you? Google ‘provincial park in [your town]’ or ‘[your town] hiking tours

Get outside every day, at least two sessions of 10 minutes. Even in the middle of winter. Let the sun hit that beautiful face!

NO GYM REQUIRED! CAT SMILEY’S WEIGHT LOSS BOOT CAMP IS 100% OUTSIDE (EVEN IN WINTER)

5: Focus on your sleep

Enhanced sleep is one of the most glorious things about participating in a luxury wellness retreat. Ongoing sleep disturbance and insomnia can result in drastically reduced wellbeing that can effect your long term health. One of the powerful benefits of participating in a residential weight loss program is that all elements of your health can be addressed, including sleep.

Develop an evening ritual with winding down at least an hour before bed. Try tea, skin care, hot shower and taking the dogs out!

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Our blissful daily schedule provides just the right balance of outdoor activity, nourishing food and stress-relieving therapies to promote improved sleeping patterns. These sleep benefits continue even after you return home.

Imagine staying here for a month! Previous wellness retreats in Whistler were in partnership with the Westin Resort & Spa, Whistler.

6: Get strict with yourself

Being held accountable for your food and workouts is one of the huge benefits of joining a health retreat, especially one that focuses on weight loss. At West Coast Fitness Vacations I encourage all our guests to journal prior to arrival. We get them to write down everything in detail using the labels on the food, and measuring the food (instead of estimating the portions). Identifying the problem is the first step in identifying the solution.

Learn how to use your smart watch to full potential.

Download apps to support your goals, such as step counting and calorie counting.

Set yourself a daily step goal of 10,000.

Learn the energy value that you are putting into your body.

Education is an important part of your personal development towards becoming an empowered, knowledgeable eater. Tracking the time that you ate is a valuable way to increase personal awareness and make necessary changes.

WHY WELLNESS RETREATS IN B.C. ARE WORTH STAYING LOCAL FOR

7: Find a way to monitor progress

Wellness is not about watching the number on the scale go down, and weighing yourself can be triggering. If you’re working towards your goals independently (ie not at a health retreat or weight loss camp), then photo and measurements are also helpful.

Track caloric deficit instead. How many calories did you burn today – and how many did you eat?

If taking your own photo, use the timer on the 10 second setting, phone at eye level. Use your better judgement on this but definitely embrace the unflattering light – it’s where you’ll see the most encouraging improvement.

Commit to taking a new pic every month or so. Save it on your phone to refer back to when you want to quit on your healthy intentions. It’ll be a huge motivator to keep going in the positive direction.

To measure yourself, keep the tape firm but not tight. You can buy one at a hardware store, in most supermarkets or at a craft store. Measure your hips, waist, legs and chest.

Tracking is a good task to delegate to a personal trainer. Even if you only buy a few sessions, measurements and photo will take them less than 10 minutes and likely will be more accurate. It’s tempting to not be completely honest (with both starting point and results) when you’re doing it on yourself!

DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN LIVE AT A WEIGHT LOSS RESORT FOR 2-6 MONTHS?

8: Set up a system of accountability

Goal setting is an important part of our weight loss camp program.

Set daily goals that you want to achieve, and break them down into smaller chunks that are achievable. For example, perhaps today your priority is to drink 3 liters of water. Break this down into drinking 3 cups before lunch.

Focus on micro-goals as well as the big picture ones. The little steps in the right direction really do add up.

Every Sunday, look back on your week. Note your achievements, and where you could improve.

Reward yourself along the way – perhaps hiring a baby-sitter for the afternoon so that you can enjoy a long walk in the forest.

Hire a coach to support your goals, or join our wellness retreat for a month.

Find your people – an encouraging friend, neighbour or community fitness group to be part of your team.

One of the benefits that you get from being on a fitness vacation is the encouragement and support from the other like-minded guests. It can be harder to keep yourself accountable and motivated on your own. Without a doubt, the team environment that comes from women going on an active vacation together is truly inspiring!

9: Modern health retreat programs celebrate everyones starting point

All too often I hear about triggering experiences from the social environment at other weight loss retreats in Canada (or elsewhere). Being empathetic to the clients emotional triggers (surrounding the topic of size and weight loss) is a necessary leadership skill.

If ‘body positive fitness’ doesn’t fit you, use ‘body neutrality’

Focus on benefits that don’t include the number on the scale. Sleeping better? Get 3 walks in this week? That’s a win!

Try to deflect the topic to something that’s more comfortable for you, when others talk about weight loss

Be mindful of your own communication style. Compliment a fellow challengers commitment to their workouts, instead of asking how much weight they lost. Bond in other ways – you’ll find a deeper and more meaningful connection.

Ditch weight loss as a measurement to whether you’re on track

Be mindful when joining weight loss boot camp programs or fitness challenges, especially weight loss focused ones. Unless the instructor has substantial experience in body transformation and weight management, they may not be sensitive to your needs.

DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN LIVE AT A WEIGHT LOSS RESORT FOR 2-6 MONTHS?

10: Become a planning ninja

One of the best things about participating in a fitness retreat is that everything runs on schedule. Well-organized days really make a huge difference as our customers learn how to apply this organization to their lives at home. Throughout the years of running destination fitness retreats, we’ve learnt a lot about how to make things run smoothly.

Plan your workout time productively – go to the gym with a solid plan.

Consider hiring an Executive Coach to help manage your work priorities better

Insist that the personal trainer that you hire works with your learning style. Are you visual? Then ask for less verbal explanation and more workout demonstration.

Limit waiting time between workouts and activities. All of your workouts should include super sets and multiple tasks. Let your trainer know that you’d prefer not to rest between sets.

Be proactive with meal planning – look ahead at your week and organize what you’re going to eat. Write a shopping list every Sunday. Prepare rice in advance, keep it in the fridge up to 2-3 days. Cook two portions, freeze the second. Consider buying a second freezer so that you can take advantage of bulk buying, and always have healthy food on hand. Busy lives often make it hard to get to the grocery store.

Read: 10 Fitness Hacks For When You Don’t Have Time To Work Out

11: Seek out new friends

Signing up for a health retreat means that you’re also signing up to meet like-minded, active people. It’s great to have the direct connection with potential friends who’ve got similar values.

Figure out how you can meet like-minded women that uplift, encourage and support you. Perhaps you’ll need to be the group leader to coordinate a meetup or social. Yoga memberships are quite good for meeting others, more so than regular gym memberships (in my experience!)

Join a progressive, 4-8 week fitness program. The community centre has programs all the time.

Be friendly, and look friendly – even when nobody is engaging with you. By having open body language and looking approachable, people might approach. Have a few light things to talk about, and to ask others about – know a few ways to encourage others to talk.

Being surrounded by others with like-minded goals and interests will help significantly with motivation. Goals are always easier to meet when you have a support group of people to cheer you on.

VANCOUVER ISLAND RESIDENTIAL WEIGHT LOSS CAMP (BIGGEST LOSER STYLE) – 1-4 MONTHS

12: Take a break from your every day routine

Sometimes it’s hard to make a change in your life without changing your environment. Traveling to a health retreat is a great way to get out of a rut because everything is different.

Get back in touch with yourself – quiet time, meditation, self-reflection, journalling.

Have the courage to re-structure your life, if needed. Hire the relevant professional to support you.

Take the afternoon off. Go to the spa – have a massage. Or, take a nap. It’s okay to rest!

Do a staycation in your own town, google tourist attractions and actually go visit them.

When you return home from a health retreat you establish a new routine, and you’ll have clearer vision about how you want it to be.

Vancouver Island residential weight loss camp (biggest loser style) – 1-2 months

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thought-dragon · 4 years

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I’ve been slowly gaining weight. I almost don’t care. I guess. I don’t feel fat, or think that I look fat. The only thing though, is definitely trying to fit into my small sized clothes. All the fat lumps show. The worst is probably going to be knowing that it’s hot in the summer, and right now, when I wear a tank top, you can see the outline of my belly, even seeing the hole of my belly button, which is really unflattering to look at. My boobs just keep spilling out, I have no money for a new fancy $50 bra, a decent one goes for about that much these days. But also, I keep thinking in my head, I’m gonna lose all this weight just as easily, why buy any new clothes? I know technically, that it feels better to buy an M sized sports bra, but over time, it loosens up due to the elastic, which does not last long. At most, the cheapest ones last a little less than a month with regular usage. I can fit an S, a little bit uncomfortably, but over time, after it stretches, it fits me perfectly. I like a snug fit, I feel protected, even though my chest is squashed.

My mom hasn’t said very much. Oddly enough, it’s been Peter’s parents making comments. They shouldn’t care. His soon-to-be step dad is slowly showing himself. He’s rather controlling, from what I’ve seen recently. Peter’s mom is pretty much vegetarian. She rarely eats beef, and definitely not pork. But we had some grilled meats the other day, and he practically forced her to eat some beef. Why can’t he just let her eat what she wants? If she’s traumatized by meat, then he should try to understand. Anyway, I see bad things in the future in this regard, I keep wondering if Peter will say anything?

Well, I went from 113lbs last February to 126lbs this year. It was a gradual increase. I was 120 in the summer, it bothered me because I don’t eat much. I did cut back to just 2 meals a day, and it helped me sustain the 120. I am letting myself sort of deteriorate. My leg keeps dislocating, its annoying because we have super deep low cabinets... I’m constantly having to bend down, support myself on my knees, or do an asian squat. Bad for my leg. I have not been exercising. I know I should. It’ll probably help with everything I’m talking about right now. But... I have a lot of stress from still being at home. I’ve been looking for work for 3 months, sometimes lucky, and then not at all lucky. I think interviews are so tedious. I wish it didn’t have to happen... The amount of time I’ve lost just trying to prep for interviewing. For artists, its pretty much a 3 step, phone, in-person, test. Ugh.

I know I have to remember not to be negative. I have to stay positive. Because people like you better, and I guess it affects my mood. I also think that friends can’t handle when someone is intensely depressed or stressed out. Makes people feel helpless, they may withdraw. I feel I have to keep making it look like I’m gonna be okay.

I had a therapist last month (and January), but I quit. He was okay, very terrible and good at the same time. Good at couple’s counseling, bad at individual counseling. He would often brush off my self-reflections, and ramble aimlessly. An hour, and even 30 minutes would go by. Sometimes, my session would be like 2 hours... of him talking. I never get to the point of my story because he asks too many questions. That wasn’t what I want to talk about. I suppose I’m on the look out for a new one, a woman is better, much better at listening than a man. A man could be, but this man wasn’t. He was good at asking me about my boyfriend and how we were. He seemed to really come alive when I talked about my relationships, like he knew what my male counterpart was thinking. That was useful, in trying to understand my boyfriend better. But I didn’t come in for that, I came in for me. I wanted to become a better person, so I can treat people better.

I guess what I’m really looking for is a life coach I never had, because my parent’s weren’t good role models to me. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Nothing I do seems to work. I wish things would just effortlessly work. Why can’t it just fall into place?

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ouraidengray4 · 6 years

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How to Tell If Your Relationship Is Changing in the Right Ways

A few weekends ago, I was enjoying a pretty typical Saturday evening with my fiancé, J. We were cuddled on the couch, watching Netflix in our pajamas. I had one of those crazy sheet masks on my face (super attractive, I know). We didn’t talk much (except to comment on the terrible movie we were watching). From the outside looking in, it might have looked kind of boring. But I felt totally, blissfully comfortable.