#So there I am. Remember that labels and words are just a helping tool and you don't need to use anything you don't vibe with!

[hajihiko]

I don't know if I'm really poly or if I just don't get. jealous. is that a thing?

Think that's sth you gotta answer for yourself mate, there's lot of overlap in the polyam-aro-ace-and-more circles.

[askanaroace]

Nov Carnival of Aros: Aplatonic - Aplatonic Advice

So this month's Carnival is hosted by @exploringaspec on the topic of aplatonicism.

Now, I've written quite a bit about my aplatonicism and aplatonicism in general already (all of which AUREA is welcome to quote if anything is interesting enough).

Loneliness - I Don't Think I Experience It

Aplatonicism guitar playing metaphor

Afamilial Thoughts

How I Came to the Aplatonic Label

Platonic vs romantic love

Coping with loneliness

Dealing with guilt

So it was quite difficult for me to come up with something I wanted to talk about this month. Since I am an advice blog, I think I will go with some general advice to anybody aplatonic, aplatonic spectrum, or questioning.

-> Remember, aplatonic is just like any other label. It's a tool. It's not meant as a diagnosis. You don't need to meet some standard or pass some test to be valid. Is the term aplatonic useful to you in some way? Does it make you feel good/comfortable/seen to use the label? Does it help you connect with a community of people who have similar experiences to you? Do you want to ID as aplatonic? If you answered yes to any ONE of those, then try the label out! You make the label work for you. You don't work yourself to the label. Use it when, how, and if you feel like it. That includes not using or discarding the term if it doesn't work for you, even if you might technically fit into the definition.

-> There's no one way you have to feel. I mean this multiple ways. You're not somehow inherently "wrong" for not feeling A Way(TM) about the people in your life just because a lot of people may feel differently than you. There's not one way to be aplatonic, either. The term has multiple, wide definitions. It can refer to people who don't experience platonic crushes. It can refer to people who don't experience platonic love. It can refer to people who have difficulty, disinterest, and/or discomfort in making, managing, or maintaining platonic relationships. Again: do you connect to the term in some way? That's what matters. Language is a tool. That's it.

-> Foster whatever kinds of relationships you desire or that make you happy. Don't foster relationships you don't desire or that make you unhappy. You can be aplatonic and allosexual. You can be aplatonic and alloromantic. You can be aplatonic and experience alterous attraction. You can be aplatonic and want a committed partner of some kind. You can be aplatonic and polyamorous. You can be aplatonic and experience familial, aesthetic, sensual, etc. attraction. You can be aplatonic and want none of that. You can be aplatonic and be a hermit/recluse. You can be aplatonic and enjoy having acquaintances or other casual platonic relationships. Instead of getting hung up on the label, explore what makes you happy - and what doesn't. And it's okay if this changes over time (short- or long-term).

-> Relationships aren't the only thing in life. Feel free to focus on hobbies, art, sports, exercise, cooking, baking, fashion, work, volunteering, animals, education, meditation, spirituality. In fact, I would encourage everyone to not forgot those parts of life exist and to pursue other parts of yourself beyond your relationship to other people.

I hope there are some helpful words in here if you needed them.

Volunteering for the Carnival is deceptively easy, and we have an open spot for December and January. If there's a topic you want to engage the community in, please reach out. All you need is a topic idea and a place you can receive submissions at. If you don't even have a place to host - we'll help with that.

[iudiex]

Please tell us how you make your banner and dividers

hi nonnie! i'd be happy to do so. there's a variety of ways I go about doing it - but i'll post a small example under the cut ( using the extremely bare minimums of a dainsleif divider as an example )

in terms of dividers - i usually start out with a blank photoshop canvas at 540 px by 100 px, sometimes a little taller, or a little less tall. but never any wider otherwise tumblr makes it look fucky wucky.

the most important things for dividers is your... well, divider part. it's best to just start out with a simple rectangle. we can adjust this at any point but for now i've just made a little blue one. everyone's preferences are different, but i like my rectangles to be about 3 px tall. note: i always like to have a background layer included while working, because it helps with visualization of your stuff.

now the hardest part of the dividers is well... the elements. we need them to be transparent and clear and in our case, form a somewhat cohesive vision. what i like to do is visit various reference archives ( 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ) and pull in game assets if you can. a good place to get just... general assets ( like flowers and shit ) like clipart is etsy, or if you can find free to use and it's not stealing - even pinterest/canva. if the asset is already cut out? even better. if not... well. cut it out and enjoy the suffering ig. but it needs to be on a transparent background for this to work.

in our example, dragaliareferencearchive provided us with a very lovely high rez asset of mr. dainsleif with which i chopped out some elements and will be making use of. say hi to dainsleif, everyone!

what i like to do is go in - use the lasso tool, and just draw around the elements i went to yoinky over. i hit ctrl c - go back to my divider canvas, and paste. at that point you just resize it however you want.

note: i shrunk down the rectangle a bit.

now that we have an element. added on one side - lets make the rectangle look a little fancier. duplicate the rectangle layer, and add a stroke while removing fill. drag it down just slightly, and you've got... more rectangle. wahoo.

do that as many times as you want.

cool great, now we have more rectangles. at this point i'd probably add some more elements (stars and shit idk) and some text. one of my favorite things to do is create a small rectangle and smack some white or black text on it. looks poppin.

dope words, dainsleif.

next, i slap a psd on it.... or i make my own. if you're going to slap a psd on it, remember to credit the creator per their rules! in this case we'll use one i have laying about - jaynedit's fable hope. smack that shit on your layers.

NOTE: I highly advise keeping you text on your dividers / icons / shit ABOVE your PSD layer. sometimes psd's make the text look crunchy. we don't like that. no crunchies on our dividers.

at this point i'd probably apply some masks and shit but that's too complex for me to teach and also i'm starting to get hungry so lets wrap this shit up. i finalize all my dividers by grouping things into neat layers and labeling them because i'm a chronic... remaker.

now the next part is very important. tumblr REALLY likes to make shit blurry as hell lately. So we sharpen to combat that. go ahead and select one of your elements in the layers panel - go up to filter - > convert to smart filters. go BACK up to filters - > sharpen - > sharpen. i do this for every single layer, including the text.

after that. i simply save the psd, and then export the divider itself (WITHOUT THE BACKGROUND LAYER TOGGLED ON) as a png. and voila!

a very crappy very quickly made divider.

please note that i am like... not formally trained in photoshop at all. i'm actually an idiot and my beloved partner helps me a lot. but if you have any specific questions, i'm happy to answer them. mwah mwah happy graphicing.

[queendopamine]

Opening up about mental health, the healthcare system, and my diagnoses

I'm no stranger to therapy. Though I've never lasted longer than 6 months, I've tried different therapists over the years. I know I need to dig in and do some deep, hands-on work. I've gotten by with some of the tools they've given me, as well as my own efforts at attempting self-help.

In May, I went back to therapy and also saw a psychiatrist for the first time ever. I did a psych eval with her last week.

I received a diagnosis of anxiety, PTSD, and Bipolar. These are also things the therapist had evaluated me for and talked to me about. I scored high on her tests for them. I've always been good at tests...The damn test was how I got my bipolar diagnosis in 2010. Some NP at a walk-in clinic gave me a couple assessments and heard my story about how I reacted on Prozac. Said that depression was only telling half the story and gave me some meds. I had to go off them after a couple months because I got pregnant, but that was as far as I ever went in my Bipolar journey.

Since 2010, I had distanced myself from the Bipolar dx and label. Not only did I not like the stigma, but I just didn't relate to it as much as other things. Borderline seemed to address a lot of similar symptoms. At one point, I even thought I had DID. In 2020, like many chronically-online Millennials in the pandemic, thought I might have ADHD. For much longer, I've considered that I have OCD.

But for now, my doctor is choosing to treat the Bipolar and said she didn't "get ADHD vibes from me" and for now, she wouldn't agree that I have ADHD (I got through school, I finish my work on time, I paid attention to her questions --those were her reasons). She said I might have OCD tendencies based on what I described but she didn't fully label me as OCD or change my treatment at all.

She did say that over time, things could change--as in additional dxes might be given or they might be changed. And of course, we might try different treatments. It's all trial and error.

To start, I'm going on a mood stabilizer (Vraylar) and an anti-anxiety medicine (hydroxizine). I hope I can find the right combination of meds and that the side effects will be minimal and manageable. I havent been on a mood stabilizer in a long time. I don't really remember much about it. I've tried many different anti-depressants and Xanax. The anti-depressants always seemed to make me worse and Xanax just makes me sleepy as fuck.

My doctor gave me an overview of the Vraylar and Hydroxizine. She told me the symptoms and what to look out for. But then reading the pamphlets about them gave me a whole different perspective. Drowsiness was the big one that stuck out to me for both--not only did she not warn me about this, but she even told me hydroxizine wouldn't cause me to be sleepy and I could take up to 400mg a day and I'd be fine. It would help me sleep, but it wouldn't put me to sleep, like Xanax would, in her words.

Like many anti-depressants or mood stabilizers, Vraylar warns of potential weight gain. But it also can cause high blood sugar and high cholesterol. I already have elevated cholesterol so that's unfortunate. I didn't tell my psychiatrist this and now I am wondering if she'll switch meds when I do tell her. I'm not sure why I didn't mention it. All those potential side effects worry me though. I already struggle with my weight and because of my PCOS, I am pretty much already at risk for diabetes--though no tests have come back to indicate that I'm even pre-diabetic, so that's good. The cholesterol is something to worry about though and I will bring that up when I see her again.

Drowsiness is the worst symptom though and I'll tell you why. It's because I switched back to Zyrtec for my allergies and even though I take it at night, it's just a lot. it makes it hard to get up the in the morning. I can handle it okay during the day when I halve the pill, but I still end up dragging around, fatigued. I hope my body adjusts. I don't want to be tired all day. I have horrible allergies and have been receiving allergy shots for them, which contributes to fatigue on shot days. I can't live my life like a zombie all the time.

Just feeling overwhelmed and frustrated and annoyed. I know it's going to take time to adjust to both new medications and even to the Zyrtec. And if Vraylar and Hydroxizine don't work, it will be onto something else. I'm just eager to get it right and feel fulfilled and content. I want to be able to workout if I want to. I want to relax if I want to. I just don't want to be ruled by fear or lack of energy or zero motivation. I want to be in control of my body. Drowsiness is opposite of this.

Onto the PTSD...that shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I wasn't expecting that. I don't know if the meds will help with my PTSD symptoms. But I know that my stepmom and her sister both receive ketamine treatment periodically. Both of them have bad depression and it helps them tremendously. According to the website, it helps with PTSD and bipolar symptoms as well. So I've considered that as an option, but I want to try meds first.

That brings me to the other issue--cost. I'm lucky that I can pull together the funds when needed and tighten up spending enough to afford these expensive-ass therapy/psych appointments. I also have a boyfriend I live with who makes almost 2x what I do and can pick up the slack or give me money if I really need it. Most people are not in that situation. There are people in my own family who cannot afford certain things. Mental health is a luxury to them.

Something so important and life-changing is a luxury that they can't afford. It's tragically common. Health insurance in the US is a joke. I can't even bill them for these sessions. It's not that they don't cover any mental health/behavioral health (though that's part of it sometimes), it's that the places I have visited do not bill health insurance for some reason. Maybe it's harder to work with them. maybe there's something about the way they bill. I truly do not know. But it's expensive as hell and I know if it were easier, they would bill insurance.

So yeah it's hard enough that I have to scrape together the money and really budget out my spending and think of every dollar. But there are people who have to do this with groceries, with feeding their children! People who have to choose which bills to pay. They can't just scrape together some extra money and spend it on mental health. Those people are fucked. and then their kids, who grow up in poverty or who are surrounded by this constant survival mentality, will grow up traumatized and in need of therapy they can't afford either. The cycle continues.

Does the government care? No. This system isn't built well and it's failing the people who need it the most.

I could talk more about the PTSD and Bipolar. what they mean to me and the symptoms I'm having. But I'm tired (go figure) and this is all I can manage.

[pawpotato]

Happy Ace Week!

was just wondering and hope this is ok to ask: how did you know you were ace? any advice for someone who might be ace (maybe demi) but is not sure?? <3

Of course it's totally fine to ask!

I knew I was Ace pretty much as soon as I learned the word. Which sadly wasn't until I was about 20. I had spent my whole life having very little interest in dating at all, to the point all my friends thought I was simply way too picky, and my mom was convinced I was a lesbian. I never understood what a "crush" was supposed to feel like, so when asked who I liked, I would randomly pick the least offensive boy in class just to have one. When my 1 boyfriend said he wanted to kiss me but didn't because my family I was around, I felt a huge wave of relief instead of regret.

All this to say: there were definitely many signs along the way, but sadly I didn't have the language to read them. Finally finding asexuality has been so incredibly freeing to me. To finally understand who I am better.

Advice to anyone who thinks they might be ace or on the spectrum somewhere: that's so wonderful! If it's a label that brings you joy and self-understanding then it is yours to use! The community is here for you and welcomes you! Maybe find ace groups on Facebook, or jump into message boards on AVEN. Listen to other peoples experiences, and if you're comfortable with it, share some of yours. Finding out the others have felt exactly the same way as you is such an incredible feeling - it still makes me cry when something hits too close to home! But in a good way lol

But also it's very important to remember that labels are simply a tool to help you. They should never feel like a burden, or a strict set of rules. If ace, or demi, or grey or any other labels feel good now, but don't later in life? That's totally fine! I'm a firm believer that things like sexuality can be incredibly fluid. There's no one way to be ace. You're just You.

Anyways, I'm sorry this turned into a book! I hope it was at least a little helpful! If you ever wanna chat privately you can message me off-anon, I don't mind 💜

Happy Ace Week!

[yoori-ya]

30 before 30

I was waiting to writing something like this on my 30th, but there's only a week-and-a-half separating me from my birthday. It's not like once the clock strikes midnight on Dec 2, a third eye is going to open up on my forehead.  Will 30 be so different from 29? Rationally, I know probably not, but I can't help feeling as if I'm approaching a threshold. 

Maybe because 30 is a such a round number. A decade is neat bundle of ten years to tie up and pack away. 

D told me this summer, out of nowhere, "Man, you really did your twenties right." 

Did I? I feel like I spent the first half stumbling around in the dark, my internal-monologue really just a constant, existential scream as I scrambled for some sort of handhold. There was no official manual lowered down on a golden rope, but I was lucky enough to fall in with older friends who brought me under their wing. Honestly, most of the advice they gave me only recently started sticking. Back then, I still took some steep stumbles despite their best efforts, but I felt as if I at least had some direction--ideas to strive towards, heroes to put on pedestals.  As I’ve gotten closer, the plaster has cracked off, and I’ve come to see the people beneath, but that's more a of a testament to how far I’ve come.  

Back then most of my angst was rooted in wondering who it was. If you asked me who I am these days, I probably still wouldn't know how to answer, but the difference is that it doesn't cause me much grief. I'm comfortable with not being able to fit in a clearly labeled box. I'm okay that Sometimes-Shy-Sometimes-Outgoing-but-Usually-Hotheaded-Loudmouthed-Impulsive-Overthinking-Anime-Nerd-Who-Likes-to-Drink doesn't exactly describe me, and that no amount of words and hyphens may ever be enough to. I'm okay with it, just like I'm okay with knowing that when I look up at the night sky, I'll never be able to name every star laid out above me. It's nice enough that it's all there.  I'm okay with it because I know no matter how other people perceive me, label me, view me, I not only know what's important, I have it in me to protect it.  

Experience can be a brutal teacher, but it's thorough, and I've learned again and again the bitterness of quietly ceding bits of myself so that I can be written into someone else's story. People, I have learned, can be selfish. People, I have learned, will want me to behave to fit whatever script they have written for me. People, I have learned, can get upset when I refuse to play the role. I have also learned, however, that I can survive the heat of their anger.  When I was younger, my father taught me to anger someone was the end of the world. B was a little shitstain on humanity's underpants, but he did help me to unlearn that terrible lesson, taught me how to find my voice, how to stand up for myself and my own story. 

The existential scream is ongoing, but these days it's less about who I am and more about what I want out of life. Where is it that I want to turn my rudder towards?  Where is my story? I feel like I’ve kept my sights fixed on one point because I was told to, and only now am I starting to understand how broad the horizon really is. 

A gets pissed every time I bring up the fact that we’re practically thirty. "I feel like we haven’t accomplished anything," she says whenever I asked her why she's pissed. I stay quiet and just slowly nod my head because I can’t agree. I’m not sitting in that corner office J and I always joked about, I still haven’t written that book, but I remember how all I wanted ten years ago was for the world to slow and be little kinder. The world has done neither, but the fact that I can walk a little more sure-footed down life's often bumpy terrain still feels big.

People always talk about how they’d do their twenties differently if given a chance. That’s impossible, but I think standing at the base of my thirties outfitted with all the tools I’ve picked up in the last decade is the next best thing. So maybe D was right, maybe I really did do my twenties right. 

Somehow, between the beginnings of this entry and its end, a bottle of wine has been imbibed. Thanks for always chronicling me, little blog.

[autodialog]

Depression

Hey there.

It’s been a couple of days. I thought you were going to check in more regularly.

I intended to, man, I really did. Life got a little muddled and I don’t have a clear head right now.

Are you sleeping?

We rotated our mattress and the past couple of nights after that I’ve been sleeping soundly and the mornings have been tough. My heel hurts and it makes walking a little difficult.

You should see your doctor about that.

I live in the US and pay an exorbitant amount for health insurance. You think that’s enough?

Fair point.

Plus every time I go I feel like I’m wasting their time.

That’s what killed Jim Henson you know.

Jim Henson was loved by an entire generation. I’m just me.

Boy, you sound depressed.

My wife keeps telling me that, but I don’t feel depressed, just unfocused and uninspired.

Have you checked the definition for depression lately?

No.

It might do you some good. You’re afraid of being depressed. You’re afraid of the label, because it means something is wrong with you, according to your way of looking at the world. You have a philosophy of action, so why aren’t you acting?

Because ... well, nothing seems important.

Yup. Depression. You’ve got it and you need to admit to it. It’s nothing to fear. It’s information, like any other emotion. It’s just a data point you need to consider and then act. You don’t want to do anything, so you have to force yourself to do something. Anything. You have a long to-do list.

And a longer project list. I know. Knowing how much I have to get done doesn’t help.

Your house is a mess and your brother is visiting in about six weeks.

Crap. I’m embarrassed about this place. Why am I embarrassed?

Because it’s disorganized. Clutter is good for you, we know that. You can’t work on a blank desk. Right now I can see the lamp, storytelling cards, journals, cds, books, and even an empty seltzer can.

I’m a slob.

You are slovenly, but that’s because you’ve let entropy take the reins. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. Even that crappy pocket watch you bought that doesn’t really work is fine. As long as it has a home.

When did you become Marie Kondo? Haven’t you heard she’s let that shit go.

No, she’s put it in its place. She has more important things. You can’t do some things because it takes too much energy to get them set up. You pause projects, you don’t kit them properly, so they are put away or in use or more likely sitting out under the tools of some other project.

When did you get to be so mean?

You think I’m being mean? We’ve worked with sales people. We know how to fake performative anger. Remember that time in church camp where you had to play the racist? You made that girl cry and didn’t feel a thing.

Because I was acting, I didn’t believe a word of it.

So you need to act like an organized, action-oriented person. You haven’t written anything on your latest story, and you haven’t compiled the critiques for the last story you sent across the table, and you haven’t even attempted anything for next week’s reading.

I know, I know.

You’re whining. Why?

Because I want to be productive. Not just at my job, which is rather insane right now, but in life. I want to do more than exist. I want to live.

And you don’t know how to do that. You don’t know how to have fun.

I have fun.

I mean fun with other people, outside. You have plenty of fun solving problems, but you aren’t even doing that?

Everything seems so damn hard right now.

But you know it isn’t. If it was really hard you wouldn’t have solved problems before. Look at the things on your plate. Nothing is impossible for you. It’s just putting pieces together.

I thought I was creative.

That’s all creativity is. It’s making connections and then methodically bridging the gaps. You’ve done it all your life and so you should have no problem sorting it out. You can’t expect to get it all done in a day.

I ... yeah, I’m impatient. I don’t want things to take time.

Then you’re being stupid. You’re stuck in a trap that says you can move between twelve different rabbit holes at the same time, because nobody else cares about what else you do with your time. Your time is theirs to waste.

No you’re being petulant. Did you forget the roles we play here? You’re supposed to be the wise one.

Maybe I am. Maybe I’m showing you how wrong you are thinking right now. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to read the prompts for Tuesday’s reading and you’re going to set a timer and you’re going to freewrite like it was NaNoWrimo again and you aren’t going to edit a single word, got that?

... yeah.

And then you’ll at least have something to edit, because you can’t edit a blank page. Good talk. Come back tomorrow.

[lone-wolf-no-more]

#DRVN30 The Beginning of the End, or "Winter Doesn't Last Forever"

My first ever blog post, anywhere.

(Starting Over at Day 1 Yet Again...tomorrow)

Just an average dude who WILL claw his way out of this, for himself, and for the sake of his family and those he cares about!

So, why am I doing this in the first place? Firstly, I have to admit, I have this obsession over getting into the DRVN inner-circle when it's over. And lastly, because I KNOW that if I push myself to do hard things, in the middle of the chaos that is my life right now, it will carry over into the future.

I'm in a place right now, geographically, mentally, etc, that it is a matter of move or die. Keep pushing forward or stagnate. Yeah, screw that. I'm not going to let myself die (so to speak), NOT going to let myself give up.

I'm living with relatives in a small home. My grandfather has graciously allowed me to set up my computer at his bedroom desk, where I type this from. Thing is, The room is directly adjacent to where he has the television on nearly every waking moment. So, that makes things interesting for sure. Let's just say I'm super glad I found that hearing protection in the tool shed.

Interspersed with this will be bits of my journal entries, which hopefully will give you some idea as to my emotional and mental state during this challenge.

Firstly, why I have to start at day 1 again:

I was on the way to bed, and somebody mentioned something they were working on. I gave my input, and it didn't end well. Instead of letting things cool off, I had to continue the conversation from my bed, texting them. Pretty pathetic, huh? I couldn't let it slide for now, I just HAD to have the last word. By texting somebody who was in THE SAME HOUSE as me. I promise you, it isn't just my machismo tendency of wanting to fix everything, and be "right" (whatever that means). It was a misdirected effort at now allowing something to continue, and be "stuck where it was, under the rug".

I have a sibling on the spectrum, ya see, and there are times that even though I think that I was very clear with what I said, they can misconstrue it as something else.

What makes it harder for them, is that they have had to put up with a LOT of totally wrong and undeserved judgement and labeling. And when I fail to communicate properly with them, and they can get upset (which doesn't happen often, but once is one too many), I can get VERY depressed. And I don't want to just let something cool off before I return to it. So I end up making things worse by continue to talk. Like, the rest of the day can go absolutely amazing. I'll get stuff done, I'll stay focused, have some small wins, stay out of trouble (whatever that may mean lol) take some small steps forward up the proverbial mountain.

But when I lose that battle against my own ego, and mess up with my sibling, I feel like none of that matters. Because I FAILED THEM, and I FAILED MYSELF. Yes, admittedly, a conversation with a person who has both had crazy trauma an who has Asperger's can be tough at times. But that just sounds like a copout to me.

So yes, I "failed" day 1, and I failed that conversation. I see these conversations as tests, tests which once they're over, they cannot be repeated.

But, "Every day is new, with no mistakes in it." Kudos if you know where that quote originates.

Also, if you have actually read all the way through this part, you are hands-down a legend.

"On with it already!" Yeah, I know I'm a windbag at times, sorry about that.

#DRVN30 Challenge Parameters

Remember, this isn't me beating myself up "like an abusive parent" as Leon Hendricks put it. This is self-care. Suffering leads to strength. Difficulty leads to diamonds.

Wake Up Time:

Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday I'm waking up at 8:30 AM each morning. Even if I'm not out of bed, I start the process by doing breathing exercises to help me wake up, and then a few minutes later get out of bed and immediately go into light exercises while doing belly (nose) breathing. So things like arm circles, shoulder circles, neck nods, and core isometrics. These work to get the blood and oxygen flowing, and get my sleepy head working.

It can be an extra fun challenge due to the fact that I'm sleeping on a non-winterized deck. It's the only place I would be able to both sleep without being disturbed and not be in the middle of everything in the house. Like I said, it's a...cozy place. So not exactly a Normal Rockwell painting, but I'm making it work.

The reason I chose these particular days for the 8:30 AM wakeup is because those are the days I trade the Nasdaq market open, and I know it is something I can sustain for the 30 days. I'm already in a bit of weakened state, mentally and physically, and have lower quality sleep, so I need to pace myself, and allow more sleep the other weekdays.

Diet: I start the morning with some hot water and vinegar to try to "move things along" in the lower gi.

I've been struggling for over two years with indigestion partly due to a lot of inflammation in my body (from post-accident surgeries, joint imbalances, etc), so it consists every day of this:

Morning: smoothie made with organic salad greens mix, olive oil, Cacao powder, 3 raw eggs (I know, look at me eating luxury food), flax seed powder and/or soaked chia seeds, and some frozen fruit. Liquid base is straight up from a carton of bone broth. Yeah, I know I probably would get more benefit from slow-cooking it for awhile, but I don't know if I could allocate time for that right now. It's literally a game of "Do I want to take those extra steps to do that", since if I walk too much I then get ankle and shoulder pain.

Afternoon and Evening: Two to Three "Huel" meal replacement shakes, with a couple raw eggs thrown in there somewhere. Again, there's no doubt a better way to do this, but I just don't have the money to try to create a more beneficial diet and regiment right now. I am however, taking a probiotic and enzyme supplement regularly.

Lastly, I'm avoiding caffeine. Especially with my body being "stuck in repair mode" at this point, I can't afford to give it a short-term "energy hit" that's just going to hurt me longer-term. Gotta do this at least for these 30 days.

And that's about it. On weekends, I may have a pound of cooked ground turkey with some seasoning and lots of butter (that fat really helps my stomach break things down), and that's about it.

Exercise/Movement:

I Get up, move around, and get those muscle kinks out! Movement is life, especially for me! My bad leg (the one with drop-foot) tends to pull things outta wack, so I gotta do something to offset that. The most intense exercise I do at this point is core isometrics in the morning, and a full-body isometric squeeze at the end. I have too much inflammation and muscle imbalances to do anything like pushups, etc.

This video should give you an idea of what I do:

Mindfulness/breathing and grounding exercises. I combine "Vagus nerve" reset exercises, like this one

Ahem...nope, that's totally a missclick. Nope, I don't struggle with loneliness at all, and I'm totally not watching that later. ASMR is purely to help me wind down.

...nerve reset exercises, like this

with breathing exercises. Example: breath, count 1, breath, count 2, and so on until 5, then start over. Has helped me zone out and get into an "affirmation flow state". "I am an intellectual and artistic problem-solving genius." "My body and mind are a powerful unit." I don't pre-plan these things. Which I think is a positive sign that my mind is switching from "negative victim mentality mode" into "conquer the world in due time" mode. Take note, if you are REALLY struggling with being focused, present, grounded, (not to mention with trauma that's stuck in you, like me, from my crazy near-death accident), THIS WILL HELP YOU. I feel the effects within less than a minute of starting.

Daily Journaling: Self-explanatory. Has to be done before I get off my computer, and send to my accountability partner, Eissac. This majorly helps me "air the daily thought laundry" out.

Get off PC by or at 9:00 PM: Basically, I have to drop everything and be off the PC no later than 9:00 PM. If it's 9:01, I've failed, and I have to restart the challenge at day 1.

Avoid Caffeine: No black tea, no coffee, nothing with caffeine in it. My body is stuck in "repair mode" as it is, and (at the very least for these 30 days) I need to not take a "short-term energy hit" that will make me crash and feel bad later, not to mention make it harder for my body to calm down and heal itself. Note: caffeine never will give you actual energy. At the end of the day it is a stimulant, not a true energy source. It is quite the rabbit trail, but I would really suggest reading up on the great American sacred cow that is caffeine.

Avoid Porn: This beast needs to die once and for all. I've been good at staying away from it over the past month, but this needs to continue as part of who I am. And who I am is somebody who is strong, disciplined and capable. Porn just doesn't fit in my identity! And porn is one of THE biggest ways that our perception of reality and women get incredibly skewed, and that contributes to our lack of respect and true love towards them. Thank you Andrew Tate, I'm sure you really helped with that. Tell me, was getting rich off exploiting women and being a pretentious ass worth it? Ahem, sorry, I'll continue.

Nothing that I know is entertainment till 7:00 PM: So, no Twitch Streams, no non-educational videos (Watching things related to investing, trading, entrepreneurship and health is part of my "day job" right now, so that's excluded), no Facebook, no Discord Servers (save the trading one I'm in), and only educational or self-improvement podcasts. Right now, I'm mainly listening to the Daily Revolution Podcast

Yes, there is a reason he looks (and sounds) like The Rock. Hint: he's from the same part of the world, and also hits the gym pretty often. And does he also sing, you ask? I believe so, on occasion. Thankfully, I don't think You're welcome is anywhere in his repertoire.

His words give me the proverbial kick in the pants I need. Which goes along with my other "allowance": music. Even the kitchen isn't an escape from the TV, and I need positive things in my ears to keep me sane. The right music can really help get me through the day, and when the choice is either the stuff that's obnoxiously blasting from the TV, and uplifting music or podcasts, the choice is pretty obvious, I think.

I'll also be sending a screenshot with the habit tracker app to Eissac (my amazing accountability partner) each day:

and a screenshot of what apps I used on my phone(s) each day.

Don't have any way to really record my time on my PC, so I guess we're using the honor system. But, I'm not taking it easy on myself. If I slip up, I will NOT let it slide, I will start again, come "accidental TV watching", police officers, negative temperatures, or...shine.

Been struggling with chronic health conditions for some years now, ones that cause my body, digestion, energy, and brain to "redline" all too easily.

Now we come to why I'm starting over tomorrow...again. Walked by the TV, and accidentally watched a few moments. Doesn't matter if somebody else had it on. I still choose to watch it. Doesn't matter if I have to walk by it every day. Tunnel vision is the key. If I want to reach that light at the end of said tunnel, that TV just doesn't exist.

Been struggling with chronic health conditions for some years now, ones that cause my body, digestion, energy, and brain to "redline" all too easily.

But I'm not going to take it easy on myself with this #DRVN30 challenge. I've had to start over with the 30 days...twice now. This is the day of my second slip-up. Walked by the TV (that's going 24/7), and accidentally watched a few moments. Doesn't matter if somebody else has it on. I still chose to watch it. Doesn't matter if I have to walk by it every day. Tunnel vision is the key. If I want to reach that light at the end of said tunnel, that TV just doesn't exist.

To be honest, I'm proud of what I've managed the past couple of days. There's always this internal struggle between my negative self-talk, and the part of me that knows I'm greater than that. I know that if I can make it through this challenge during one of the most daunting parts of my life, it can and will prepare me for the future.

You see, during this time, not only am I in the midst of fighting against health conditions, but I've reached a bit of a crisis point in my life, and something has to give. These past few days have definitely tested my mettle, and my will to continue the fight.

Two nights ago, I sat cross-legged on that very bed behind me, talking to two uniformed officers about an eviction. I managed to (temporarily, at least) maneuver my way out of the situation without raising my voice or getting scared. All the same, it felt akin to threading the Grand Canyon in an F-16. No, I totally didn't steal that from Top Gun.

The next day, trading the market (or rather, watching it) was quite a rollercoaster, to say the least. I had some people basically cursing the day they starting trying to trade the Nasdaq.

In spite of the pressure I may have felt (especially considering last night's interesting incident), I just stayed out of the market. Far better to preserve capital by sitting on your hands. Once again, I think the grounding and mindfulness is really paying off here. I honestly think that overall not only am I becoming a more calm yet decisive person, I honestly think now more than ever the groundwork is being laid for my sibling and I to finally skip town and make a life for ourselves. The only reason this is happening is because we are working TOGETHER, as a TEAM. And just as important, we keep accounts short. There's been too much petty arguing and in fighting in this family, and I want to know that we at least have each other's back.

The night after the "uniformed officer incident"...I thought I had to make things even more interesting.

I'm sure you're dying to hear about how THAT went. Well, sorry, not today. Tomorrow I will have actual footage of me braving the Antarctic vortex that passed through, along with the ice cold shower I took in the dark. Yes, an actual "Overnight Challenge" that I really wasn't planning on doing.

Remember, winter doesn't last forever. The thaw WILL come, and you will see the end in due time! Yes, I was trying to draw an analogy between my life and the long winter. Appropriate, I think.

Thank you for reading to the end. I hope my ramblings actually helped you some.

You got this!

Bonus for reading this far. :)

Music I'm listening to today: Judah Earl. He has some truly beautiful, uplifting music that keeps me in a good headspace.

And if you haven't, PLEASE check out Eissac's blog: https://from-rock-bottom.tumblr.com. He has a very concise (still working on that myself) and insightful way of recording his own progress with the #DRVN30 challenge. I honestly aspire to be able to collect and record my thoughts more like him. I'm kinda all over the place.

[peachyteabuck]

This is a very long reflection post so read if you want to. It’s very word vomity though so watch out

I’m doing an no-buy year, which has quickly morphed into a low-buy year. I’m 21, my partner is 22, and we’re still coming into our own. How can we do a no-buy year when our essentials include measuring spoons and stuff for work? I’m still building my wardrobe. They’re still building theirs. It’s not possible to stave off all buying, in all honesty. However, the low-buy year is going well. Rocket Money is the tool we’re using to keep track of spending. The app isn’t perfect (I’m a freelancer, so keeping track of my income is a nightmare) and i make a lot of purchases that I just charge them 1/2 for, so I’m not sure how much of the spending is accurate. But i think it’s going well. The issue is it takes a lot of time. So much fucking time. To plan out grocery lists and crock pot meals and lunches and strategically buying wardrobe choices. It also sucks when I buy pants for example and they just don’t fucking fit. I want to be body neutral, and appreciate my body for all that it can do, but it’s hard when I try to express that via my dollars and it blows back in my face. Even big bud press pants have their issues, and theyre the only pants i wear regularly

I’m started to realizing i can’t have everything i want in terms of what i want to do. There literally is not enough time. Every day i finish 99% of what i want to leaves me physically wrecked. My brain cannot fit that much stuff in it. I can’t read the books I want because i want to give them time/attention and i just fucking can’t. I hate delegating tasks and asking for help, and when my PCP tried to send me to collections i literally begged my mom to help me. I’m glad she/my stepmom were able to, but that was such a massive blow. Hyper independence is a fucking joke, which sucks.

I need to write more. It makes me feel better. I have commissions to finish. But writing fills me with dread because i hate everything I write. I just want to write and finish things but I literally fucking cannot. I remember watching some lawyer’s expertise talk on a video platform my mom paid for and he was like “writers write despite everything.” I literally can’t fucking do that. I think everyone thinks i have more time than I do. The principal for the school im student teaching at wants to put me in the substitute system so I can work “on my off days.” The 2.5 days I’m not in the classroom i am either at work or in class. Im in student government. I volunteer. What fucking off days. The weekend?? When you’re not open?? BFFR. Idk how I’m going to make up the two snow days we had. Lying, probably. Idk if this is sustainable but i don’t know what my other option is. Everything is too expensive.

I need to buy a pill holder for my Ritalin/caffeine pills/pain killers. I just need to find one with labels bc im an idiot.

The little stuff keeps falling through the cracks and becoming big stuff. I think i need to make a notion page where I track how often things actually take and rate their energy usage bc this is becoming a problem. I just cannot girlboss and work nonstop for 12 hours. My brain literally cannot handle that.

I need to sleep more. But to do that i need to do enough “non-necessary things” to give my brain a break.

I really need my Ritalin back. I was not super regulated to begin with, but the Ritalin helped so fucking much. I could get everything done and sleep at a reasonable time bc my brain was sufficiently worn out in all areas. Im self medicating with caffeine rn but Jesus Christ i want my meds back.

Anyway. My goals for February are to track expenses weekly (sun-sat) and do daily habits in my notebook and not notion bc i constantly forget to do that shit. We’ll see. I wish i was better at this stuff & i wish i was more forgiving with myself & i wish i didn’t feel the need to be The Best all of the time.

[comicaurora]

Not Aurora-related, but I really like your answer in the recent OSPod about just clicking w/ the ace label but not having that same certainty about romantic orientations, because I think I'm that but in reverse-- it's only important to me that I'm aromantic.

So, thank you for putting it into words ^^ Have a nice Pride Month!

Ultimately we all gotta remember that labels are tools, not obligations. If a label helps you understand your wants and needs better, fuck yeah! If the label instead feels like a prison denying you growth and possibility, it's not helpful and you can drop it!

I think our growing awareness of the diversity of human sexuality and gender identity has sort of resulted in a feeling of "everyone has a special box they fit in with a flag and a community and a predictable suite of wants and needs". The problem is, almost nobody understands themselves down to the minutest perfect detail with no possibility of error, growth or change. What is an orientation, if not a broad-strokes categorization of "what kind of relationship would make this person most happy"? How bizarre is it to try and lock down a concept THAT complicated on the first try??

There's a joy in recognition of "oh, this is ME, I didn't know it was an option but there I am." In my experience it's a sense of sudden freedom - specifically the freedom to simply exist as one naturally and comfortably exists. But trying on labels that DON'T invoke that feeling can sometimes result in the exact opposite sensation; rather than giving oneself freedom, it feels like it's cutting off possibility. For instance, "am I gay? Then I guess I can never find men attractive, that's a shame…" is an indicator that this label may not be helpful to apply. Accuracy is not really the concern, but the "everyone has a box" mindset makes it SEEM like the concern. It's not about being comfortable or fulfilled, but about being accurately categorized.

Very personal anecdote on that note: I, like many people, spent some time questioning my gender. I have been tomboyish since pretty much day one, and was frequently bullied for unladylike activities as well as broadly battered by garden-variety middle-school misogyny. I was made to feel wrong for pursuing the interests I had while being female - whether that was sports, STEM, gaming, tree-climbing, wearing unfashionable pants, or a million other completely genderless things I happened to enjoy. It made it difficult for me to tell if I felt unhappy because I was being MADE unhappy, or if it was because I was fundamentally wrong about myself and could not be happy as I was. Eventually I concluded that every time I thought "maybe it would be better if I was a boy", it was in the specific context of "so I could do <thing I wanted to do>" or "so people would stop being shitty to me about <innocuous thing>". I realized I enjoyed being perceived as a girl and I enjoyed being capable of "manly" things. I liked being strong, gruff, loud, chivalrous, reliable - and I liked being pretty and having long beautiful hair and nice boobs. Admittedly it took me having an honest to god stress dream about growing a beard to finally shake the intrusive thought of "what if I'm wrong about everything and I really CAN'T be a girl while liking these things???" Internalized misogyny can fuck you up pretty hard, but in hindsight, the gut-wrenching disappointment I felt whenever I contemplated that possibility was a good sign that it didn't personally fit me. The trans friends I discussed this with affirmed my conclusion - "dread" is not the appropriate response to self-discovery in the pursuit of happiness. In my case I had simply been told "you can either be a girl OR you can do all this cool shit you like" and all I ever wanted was both - abandoning either one felt like giving up on something important to me. I did the gender questioning, concluded I was a cis woman, and then stopped thinking about it. And that was fine.

This is why I think the label "queer" is absolutely invaluable. I may not know exactly what my romantic orientation is and I don't know what exact subgender I could be classified as with "girl but in a dude way", but I know I'm sure as hell not what society assumed I should be. I don't know what box I fit in, but I'm dead certain where I DON'T fit. Who cares about the specifics? Nobody can know me better than I know myself, and demanding categorization I can't provide helps nobody and stresses everybody. The core desire of the queer community is to be able to exist in peace and pursue happiness. If a label helps you do that - an acknowledgement that you are known, seen, and not wrong or broken to exist as you do - then that's perfect. But if you don't NEED to categorize yourself in certain ways to be happy, you do not have to. Overlabeling can stress you out, and sometimes "oh no, what if I'm <thing> and I'll NEVER be able to be happy unless I COMMIT to that???" can be a very dangerous and intrusive headspace to spiral into. Things done in pursuit of personal fulfillment can NEVER be treated as obligations. It's okay to not be sure, and it's okay to NEVER be sure.

[afeb]

Bucky Barnes - Salvation

long and kinda slow-burn :)

“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.

“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.

I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.

I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.

Fuck.

Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?

“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.

“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.

“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”

I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.

“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.

Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”

“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.

“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.

“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.

I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.

“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.

“Nice place.” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”

He nodded. “Anything special?”

I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”

“That would be...nice.” He smiled.

I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.

“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.

“You’re being very kind.” He said.

“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.

He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”

I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.

“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”

I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.

“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”

He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”

His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.

The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”

His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”

He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.

“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”

“Thank you.”

“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.

It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.

We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”

I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”

His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”

I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”

He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”

He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.

Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.

To James B -

Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N

I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.

From James B -

Hey! No worries. Heading over now.

I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.

“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.

James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”

“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.

After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.

“Done.”

“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”

James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”

“Thank you James.”

“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“Yeah,”

We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.

“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.

I cocked a brow. “No, you?”

“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”

I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”

“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”

“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.

“Why would you think that?” He frowned.

“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”

Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”

I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.

“I forgive you.”

Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.

“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.

“You aren’t.” I promised.

“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.

“Then do something good.”

His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.

“Please,” he mumbled against me.

“Yes.”

Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.

“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.

“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.

His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.

“There?” I nodded at his question.

His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.

“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.

“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”

I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.

“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.

“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.

“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.

“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.

I bucked my hips. “Please,”

I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.

I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“

“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.

I nodded and cried. “Yes!”

“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”

“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”

My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.

“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.

“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.

We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.

“I already...just then...” he blushed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.

I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”

He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

---------------------------

It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

---------------------------

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

[ravysu]

Sannin headcanons and thoughts

The last thing I would like to post for the sannin week. It is still 24.04 here! :D @sannin-central

This is long. Spoiler alert. Mostly Orochimaru, some Tsunade, a little of Jiraiya (because his story is pretty clear and spoken and idk what I can add). Also I recommend to read this meta about Orochimaru, it has influenced me a lot and has some good points. Sorry for any posible grammar mistakes. Also I really should put here a lot of references to the manga or anime but it was something that was piling up for a year and I'm soooooooo lazy. After all, those are just headcanons. Also: Im not excusing Oro's bad stuff here, Im trying to understand the reasons.

Ive already posted some hcs, here, here and here.

1. First if all, the chronology pic of sannin lifetime based on the info i found on naruto wiki and also some statements about wars from this post. It was tough considering what a mess naruto’s chronology is.

2. Sannin story shows what it cost to be a legend. They're like Team 7 but more realistic. Tsunade literally carried the war but left with nothing and developed a ptsd and have problems to just live on. Also anger control issues. I think she can be pretty bossy and stubborn which is not always nice. Jiraiya is the hero of the day but also very idealistic and can ignore some important details in the real word whether its the fight (he always injured during flashbacks maybe because each time he took too much to handle and on the one hand it's heroistic but on the other is a mistake that can lead your team to situations like in that Iwa cave) or your friends issues (I bet he saw what's going on but thought it's fine until Oro actually got red handed and left). He lives in his world and may have problems to get out to see it through someone else's shoes. As for Orochimaru, it seems like he was a normal guy for 20+ years (I mean, he didn't do crazy criminal shit and had something good in him and it was stated somewhere that it was his teammates influence. It is obvious they considered him as a friend, I don't thinks it was for nothing) but we mostly know his darkest side. Despite being a moster he is a human that have empathy and some ordinary human traits (man just decorates every bit of an environment he is in lol).

3. Tsunade was the leader of team Hiruzen.

4. Tsunade sometimes hit Jiraiya for some stupid things he did or said but never touches Orochimaru even if he did something same. Jiraiya complained about it once and almost got another hit.

5. Jiraiya had problematic parents that didn't care about him much and a lot of time he was wandering in the streets.

6. Judging by the look of Oro bangs and hair, he sometimes cut it off. A stress relief huh? And the fact that he doesn't do it now in Boruto..

7. It was shown that Tsunade and Orochimaru was acknowledged before they become a team. Maybe they did just before, or maybe some longer time before. I prefer the second option and hc that they met because both had no real friends - Orochimaru seemed weird and scary for everyone and Tsunade was Senju so everyone wanted to hang out with her but didn't really care. They weren't seen as what they were - people put the labels on them. But they didn't care about each other's labels and actually saw each other in true lights.

8. Tsunade knew it was an accident and it's not right but still she blamed Orochimaru for Nawaki's death for some time. It was something that seriously damaged their friendship and the team. Orochimaru was mad but also guilty, after all, he was responsible at least as a shinobi since Nawaki was under his watch. So he started to act cold and emotionless and was trying to distance himself from his teammates.

9. Jiraiya was in Ame while Dan died.

10. The whole his orphans mission was a bit irresponsible tbh. They already fought Hanzo and as he stated the conflict between Konoha and Ame is going to an end with Konoha's win. It's weird to stay here for three years in the middle of the war while there were other lands to fight. He left his teammates for some idea. Maybe that caused another crack in their team friendship.

11. If Tsunade would have find a way to live on with her trauma and follow the will of fire and stuff it would affect Orochimaru as well just as her grief affected him. It's like he would get an example that you can live on with this pain. So death isn't above human capability and we are not just the slaves of mortality (sounds stupid but i dont know how else to describe sorry). But as we know what he actually saw is that it broke her crucially to the point she couldnt be herself again. And so the death is above everything.

12. Oro wasn’t just acting as a cold pragmatic bitch in that cave but also tried to save Tsunade. Jiraiya knew it and that’s why he showed this sign to him like "I see what youre doing here" and that stunned Oro because he would prefer to look rather like a cold pragmatic bitch hehe

13. Just a thought. People in the village probably treated Oro as a foreigner or just wouldnt accept him because he looked so differently and had a weird attitude. That's why he sometimes didn't feel that Konoha is his home. After the wars where people were treated as means and tools, even the children, he himself developed this view on people - he dehumanized them and used as the means to his goals, just as his village did. Funny thing some people were straightly dehumanizing him too like Ibiki thought that he was a demon (tho he was a child). And he probably weren't the only one. Anyways the point is that it's logical that Orochimaru don't care about anybody but some few people, he's the product of his era. He's like Naruto that would chose the hatred way. But naruto had some good and understanding people around him and.. Orochimaru had them too, but match how Iruka treated Naruto and this Hiruzen's "I sAw tHe mAliCe in This cHiLd fRoM tHe BegGinNinG". And oro didn't even have a big ass evil fox in him. sry i hate hiruzen

ANYWAYS the moral of the story is not "go criminal if they hurt you" but always treat people like people. Waving my hand to Kant.

14. The reason why Orochimaru didn't pick some good morals to stick with through the hard times no matter what (like, idk, Jiraiya or Naruto) is because 1) I think he is/was pretty depending on people around him 2) the war fucked him and his friends up too much (Nawaki incident + Tsunade) 3) twisted addictions (though I don't think he's that sadistic, we never saw him torturing randoms just for fun, it was always some science experimental shit. He tends to get fun out of cruelty only when it's personal) that maybe developed as a way to sublimate anger and sadness caused by his parents loss (that's what they share with sasuke - unlicke naruto, they knew their parents and it's other kind of pain. Sasuke developed a revenge issue and Orochimaru - cruelty pleasure which... is kinda the same but less epic and more occasional lol).

15. Speaking of that, Orochimaru cared for Sasuke because he saw himself in him.

16. Oro hold grudges against Hiruzen for not choosing him to be Hokage not only because he was ambitious and/or egoistic, but also because Hiruzen was some kind of a father figure for him and his approval was important tho i doubt he was aware of that. He also probably could tell that Hiruzen was suspicios about him when he was a child and that led to many conflicts and was hurting as well.

17. Tsunade knew things weren't pretty with Orochimaru after the wars but she never expected them to be this bad. During the week that she was given in her arc she thought not only about how much she wants to see Nawaki and Dan again despite how wrong would it be but also was trying to bury all the good memories she had left of Orochimaru so it would be easier to kill him.

18. She poisoned Jiraiya exactly because she knew he would not let her do it. Jiraiya was always hesitant to kill and inclined to forgiveness, while Tsunade, as mentioned by Orochimaru, could be merciless (so much so that he was not surprised when Kabuto suggested that she wanted to use Jira for Edo Tensei).

19. That was one of her traits that scared Jiraiya and fascinated Orochimaru.

20. Remember how Oro grabbed Jiraiya's neck when the latter was trying to cover with hair jutsu? On the snake, in Tsnade's arc. Orochimaru could have easily kill Jiraiya by pulling the sword out of the mouth (arteries are right there) but he didn't. As well as he could kill Tsunade when she was still shaking - just aim for the neck or the heart. Instead, he just injured her lung and kicked her which is not a big deal for the kind of shinoby like her at all.. Also he helped Anko not accidentally kill herself but it would be way much profitable to let her do it. "Orochimaru has no feelings".

21. The reason he suddenly wanted to kill Tsunade instead of forcing her to heal his arms as it was planned (which is weird since it will not going to get him heals and he kinda said that he wouldn't want to kill her just minutes ago) is that not only she refused to help him (he thought he could work it out) but she also prefered the village over him (from his point of view). Out if everyone she was the closest to being able to understand him since the village caused her painful losses too but nevertheless she agreed to be on it's side.

22. He wasn't fighting her back in the end partly because he thought he deserved that. Somewhere deep inside hahah.

23. Tsunade got a fear to develop deep bonds so they probably weren't very close with Shizune (also the way she knocked her down in this hotel.. oh).

24. Orochimaru will be here when she'll die.

25. Orochimaru's eng dub to Tsunade: "I often wondered what it would be like to ring that pretty neck yours". No comments.

26. Orochimaru is either bi/pan or ace. Anything or nothing lmao

27. Hiruzen knew about at least some of the Oro’s illegal experiments and was okay just as he was okay with the Foundation all the time. Because it’s useful. Then he has discovered he went too far OR he knew everything and oro just became too inconvenient because of his methods. The way Orochimaru tells Sasuke about reasons they are well treated as the criminals is based on in his experience with Hiruzen.

28. As you may know the lyrics in Orochimaru’s music theme goes “don’t talk with the silence of the heart”. It was taken from one Indian song that also had lines like “don’t question life too much”, ”pain arose somewhere in the chest”, “don’t speak to the wounds of the heart”. Though I’m not sure 100% because I was translating it with some hindi dictionary with like zero knowledge of hindi

29. I like to think that this “silence of the heart” theme and the fact that he called his village a hidden sound village are somehow connected. The hidden sound is the possible explanation of all things waiting to be listened to but the truth is silent and you know it deep in your heart and it bothers you. The world is silent just like the life is meaningless but people can only hear. *Sigh* anyways

30. Orochimaru’s journey is the one about accepting death. When he saw Karin released her chains while was trying to get to Sasuke he understood that the death is a part of human’s strength.

Can’t wait to feel that everything I wrote is wrong or not enough or stupid and obvious lol. Anyways, it’s something that I wanted to share until I move to some other fandom.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

I have a weird request:

Android!Virgil and Cyborg!logan in a kinda dark fic about Virgil figuring out that he's an android/breaking down a bunch of times and having to be updated or repaired with new tech and memories. (The new tech being fake stuff to make him more human-like. Like a fake pulse or something) and every time he gets a reboot virgil and logan re-fall for eachother. (Romantic analogical with background royalty or rociet, you choose.)

Rust and Bones

Word Count: 1,524 CW: Abuse implied, memory loss, food mention, mentions of bones.

Author Note: Soulmate trope in use- Ink marks are present on the body. When your soulmate is in the vicinity, the marks will slowly move to follow them, reaching out and being on the body part closest to them. When you touch, the ink marks connect with each other in the place with the most contact.

Logan crowed in triumph, his hands hovering in the air as Virgil turned on. “Virge? Darling, can you hear me?”

Virgil looked around the room. “An500, ready for instructions.”

Logan sighed. Once every three months, Virgil’s owners, Logan’s stepfamily, sent him off to be upgraded and reset. Logan had been trying to think of a way to at least get around the memory wipe but it seemed nothing worked. “An500, register your name.” He waited the three heartbeats it took for Virgil to look at him. “Virgil.”

Virgil smiled. “My name is Virgil.” His voice still sounded so robotic.

Logan stood. “Free from factory settings. Use personality pre-set two.” This was the closest he’d gotten, being able to pre-program his snarky personality.

Virgil blinked a few times. “Personality pre-set two, initiated.” He looked at Logan, voice changing from the standard cheery to his usual sass and indifference. “How can I help?”

Logan rubbed his elbow, where flesh met metal. “I’m Logan, by the way. Start by putting those tools away, please.” He gestured to the table beside them that was covered in tools. Tools Logan had used to try to fix Virgil.

Virgil got off the low stool and started gathering the tools. “You gonna tell me where to put these or am I just supposed to guess?”

Logan groaned, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Of course, sorry.” He picked up a tablet and sent the labeled map of the workshop directly to the android. “There. Now, I’m going to wipe this grease off.”

Virgil gave a thumbs up, focused on his task.

Logan entered the tiny bedchamber he occupied, more of a closet than a room, filled with pictures and memories of him and Virgil. He ignored every memento and went through the doorway leading to his bathroom, a place even smaller than his bedroom. Luckily, some water came out of the tap when he went to shower.

The dirt and grime of his week washed away, leaving a purple ink splot on his shoulder, the part of his body closest to Virgil. He rubbed the soulmark, hugging himself as it slowly followed Virgil’s movements around the workspace. Holding his hands in front of him, Logan looked at the metal hand and forearm that was starting to rust, desperately trying to imagine it as flesh and bone. He’d been so young when it happened, he didn’t even remember becoming a monster.

Some would see that as a blessing.

The water didn’t stay hot for long. It never did. Still, he stood under the cold spray for a few moments longer before dressing.

The weeks passed slowly, lonely without his Virgil’s company. Sure, Virgil was there and helpful but it wasn’t the Virgil he knew. It wasn’t the Virgil that would hold him as he slept, that would laugh with him during repairs, that would do a hundred little things to make the time pass easier. Their usual banter was gone, replaced with sarcastic replies that shut down conversations. It was as if a stranger was wearing his lover’s face.

About a month after the reset, Virgil found Logan counting what little cash he had. “What are you doing? What’s the money for?”

“I’m doing odd jobs here and there. The family doesn’t know about it and I want to keep it that way. I want to get out of here one day, start a new life somewhere.” A life where he didn’t have to worry about the love of his life not knowing him, a life where he wasn’t worked to the bone with nothing to show for it.

Virgil’s face fell. To anyone else, it would have looked barely different, but Logan had spent the last year studying Virgil’s micro expressions. “Oh. Okay. I just came to tell you that I’m finished. Anything else you need?”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m sure the family has some use for you.” He hoped Virgil came back in one piece.

He didn’t.

Not fifteen minutes later, Logan heard a loud thump and snap and rushed up the stairs to find Virgil lying on the ground, his left leg broken just below the knee. Oil leaked from the break and from his eyes as he cried black tears.

Logan’s stepmother turned to face him. “Oh, good, you’re here.” She pointed at Virgil. “Be a dear and fix it for me?”

Logan held back a scream of anger and frustration and instead went over to Virgil. “Hey, you’re going to be fine. Just focus on me, baby.” His voice was low enough that only Virgil could hear.

Logan wiped the tears away as Virgil clung to him. Logan tried not to think of the purple and blue ink drops that were winding around their highest point of contact. He helped Virgil stand, holding the leg in his flesh hand and supporting Virgil with the metal.

They made it down the stairs and Logan helped Virgil sit on the table while he gathered supplies. “What happened?” Logan kept his voice soft and gentle, no judgement found within.

“It all happened so fast. I was first just trying to help with something but she bumped me and suddenly I was falling over the stair banister, my leg taking the brunt of the impact and snapping.” Virgil watched Logan sit on the low stool in front of him and get to work on welding his leg back on. “Thank you.”

Logan looked up at him. “This fix is only temporary. Your leg will be replaced when you go in for maintenance.” He tried not to think of what else maintenance meant for him.

“I didn’t mean just for the leg.”

“Oh.” Logan realized he meant the comfort from earlier. “That was nothing.”

Virgil reached out, stilling Logan’s hands. “You’ve never treated me as anything less than human. I think it’s what I love the most about you.”

Logan didn’t dare look up from his purple hands being held by Virgil’s blue ones. Finally, he kissed the back of Virgil’s hand, rubbing his thumb over it. “How could I not treat my soulmate well?” His voice was quiet.

Virgil tilted Logan’s face up and lent in, being met halfway.

The next two months found the pair renewing their romantic relationship and taking on more odd jobs to make more cash. The plan was for them to run off in the dead of night, before Virgil was reset. However, as all plans tend to do, it went awry.

Logan’s stepmother stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the workshop, the farthest into the space she’d go, three days before the planned escape and told him to get Virgil ready. He knew that meant he was going to the shop to be reset and upgraded, probably to have his leg replaced as well. When Logan asked why, she tersely replied that they had an opening and agreed to take him early.

Logan went and told Virgil, too agitated to stop pacing. Virgil stood from his stool and held Logan, one hand fumbling in his pocket. “Things are going to be okay. I thought this might happen.”

Logan sighed, laying his head on Virgil’s shoulder, watching their soulmarks move to that spot. “What do you have in mind?”

Virgil pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. “This has all my memories up until two hours ago. You hold onto it while I’m reset. Then, while they expect you to be putting me back to normal, we escape. Go as far as we can and don’t look back.”

Logan carefully took the backup drive. “How long have you been planning this?”

Virgil shrugged. “Since you told me about the memory reset half a month ago.”

Logan nodded, remembering the night he’d woken from a nightmare of Virgil being reset, and stowed the drive in one of his pockets. “Okay, this can work.”

The worst feeling Logan ever felt, bar the first time Virgil didn’t recognize him, was having to watch and do nothing as Virgil entered the truck that would take him to be reset. Logan spent the next few hours in agony, pacing the length of his bedchamber. All his and Virgil’s personal belongings were stored in an old suitcase his stepfamily had thrown out for having a broken wheel.

He received a message that Virgil was done that evening and rushed to the front gate to wait for the truck that dropped him off. He brought him back to the workshop along with as much food as they could smuggle in unnoticed.

It was only a matter of ten minutes for Logan to put Virgil’s memory in. They shared a tender kiss and both shed a few tears. Logan filled Virgil in on what he missed while they waited for the sun to set and the house to quiet down before they left, exiting out a side door.

Logan had a bus pass from traveling to and fro and androids rode free, on account of being seen as property rather than people, so they hopped on the bus to see where it would take them.

[lil-lycanthropy]

How to write an essay (especially when you struggle with writing essays)

[Image Description: A graphic titled “BASIC ESSAY STRUCTURE”. There are 3 sections. The first section is regarding the introduction, labelled “Agonize for an hour”. The second section is regarding the body, labelled “oh hell yes i can do this no problem i got stuff to say i’m on a roll”. The third section is regarding the conclusion, labelled “I am going to walk into the sea”. /End Image Description]

I saw this post about essay writing with this as the structure and I just. Screamed a bit. The outline above (imo) makes a very boring essay that is UNNECESSARILY DIFFICULT to write. I was gonna just add onto the post, but I thought I’d make my own because I have a LOT to say.

So, to start off, I have spent far too long making this handy-dandy graphic with an essay structure that I find to be a lot more helpful.

[Image Description: A graphic titled “ESSAY OUTLINE”. There are 7 sections. They include the outline for the Introduction, Body, and Conclusion, along with tips for all three, and then a section for General Tips. /End Image Description]

There’s some pretty lengthy explanations under the cut, and I spent way too long on this. However, I’m passionate about writing and hate seeing how much people struggle to write simply because they haven’t been given the right tools.

Without further ado, here we go!

Introduction (1 paragraph)

Opening Statement: This is your intro/hook. With an effective opening sentence, you want to introduce the main topic of the paper, and make it interesting for the reader to draw them in. The introductory sentence should be somewhat objective; your thesis will be your arguing point, but we need to know the general topic without the bias. As for the hook part—your prof/TA/teacher/whoever is grading your paper has read the same paper 600 times. Your paper probably won’t be entirely unique, BUT you can still make it stand out. This is where the “hook” comes in. An easy way to do this is to simply start with a verb. Reading papers that all start with “the” or “a” can get really repetitive and boring, so an action word can be a good way to grab the reader’s attention. You don’t want your opening statement to be too long; a sentence or two should be your goal.

Allude to Thesis: Right after the opening statement, use a sentence to briefly allude to your thesis (the stance you’ll be taking on the topic). This way, you can state your argument points without having to worry about wording your thesis correctly right away, or risk your thesis getting lost within the introduction. This is kinda a segue to your points rather than its own official “section”, so keep it brief. 

Outline Supporting Points: These are the points that help support your argument. Avoid using a list form for this by using things like semi-colons or commas; each supporting point should have its own sentence. Saying that, definitely use transition words to help the sentences flow together so it doesn’t just seem like a laundry list. Don’t limit yourself to three points unless that’s explicitly part of the assignment. At least two is good if you can expand on them enough to do the paper, but don’t be afraid to use four or five if you’re still able to stay within the limits and expand on them enough to be individual points. However, sometimes too many points can make it hard to expand, so see if you can group some together if you have too many. 

Thesis: Your thesis should be a statement, subjective, demonstrable, and specific. It therefore should not be a question, objective, hypothetical, or vague. This is because your thesis is a definitive stance on a specific issue or topic that you can prove with evidence. As for placement, I always put my thesis at the very end of the introduction. I would say it’s up to personal preference whether to put it at the beginning or the end, but please never put it in the middle. When it’s in the middle, it’s very likely that it won’t stand out as a thesis, and then you’d have to come up with both an opening and closing statement, which is hard. I like putting it at the end because I find that if I do it at the beginning, it can be REALLY hard to balance having a clear thesis while also introducing your paper and making it interesting. Plus, if it’s at the end of your first paragraph, it still stands out, you don’t have to do a concluding statement, you don’t have to balance any other aspect of writing (like an intro or hook) with it, AND it creates the perfect transition to your supporting points. Limit your thesis statement to one or two sentences—you want it to stand out to the reader as the thesis, and you don’t want to muddle the message by being too detailed. You’ll have the rest of the paper to expand.

Body (2-10+ paragraphs)

Introduce Evidence: For each piece of supporting evidence (your main points), make sure you introduce them clearly before actually explaining everything about them. Don’t be afraid to word it in an interesting way (although remember, you still want your message to be clear!). I also want to give you an incredibly important tip: the amount of supporting points you have DOES NOT have to correspond with the amount of body paragraphs you have. They drill the five-paragraph essay outline into you for years, and it’s BORING—for you and whoever’s grading your paper. It’s also bad writing, because then you get unnaturally long paragraphs that take up a page and a half. So, unless your assignment rubric says otherwise, don’t be afraid to get creative with the paragraph amount. Always start a new paragraph when introducing a new main point, but definitely consider splitting the main point into two or three paragraphs if needed. Disclaimer: sometimes if you have to split a point into multiple paragraphs, that means you might want to consider splitting the main point into multiple main points. On the other hand, sometimes combining two main points into one can help make a paragraph more substantial.

Expand: For each point, expand. Explain any extra details. Relate the explanations back to your main point so you can stay on target and not go on tangents that take up half the page. 

Connect to Thesis: After you expand each point, as a concluding statement, relate the main point back to the thesis (the whole point of the paper!). Anyone can list evidence—show that you understand why this evidence is connected and how it proves your stance. If you can’t connect the point to your thesis, it’s probably not relevant or you need to do more research. By making the connection between the evidence and your thesis, 1. This is how you get bonus marks, and 2. It makes for an excellent concluding statement/transition to the next main point.

Repeat: For each main point, follow the structure of introduce-expand-connect.

Conclusion (1 paragraph)

Restate Thesis/Main Points: Rather than coming up with another introductory statement, restate your thesis and the main points that helped to prove your thesis. Please try to reword it so it’s not repetitive, and it’s best to keep the restating brief. You’ve already established all of this in your paper, so you don’t need too much detail. A sentence or two is fine. Another tip is to avoid basic concluding words. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but definitely avoid the ones that involve the word “conclude” or its derivatives (e.g. “in conclusion”; to conclude”, etc.). Keep this part to one or two sentences to avoid the dreaded repetition.

Explain Relevance/Make Connections: Here is something I NEVER see in the common essay templates, and honestly, I feel like it’s one of the most important things with essay writing. It’s the difference between just another essay in a pile of 200, and one that stands out as exemplary. SO. We know your thesis. We know your evidence. You’ve even briefly restated it in case we forgot. Now, WHY is your thesis (and by extension, the paper you just spent a few hours on) actually important? Why is it relevant? Who cares? You don’t want to give too much “new” information, but you really should be able to find some connection as to why your paper matters. Because if you don’t see the point in it, how are you gonna convince the reader that your paper is worth reading? Essays are about arguments, yes, and convincing people that You’re Correct and You Know Things, but you need to be able to connect with other things to see the true relevance. Make connections, folks!

Concluding Statement: Truly the bane of anyone’s existence. A good tip is to look at it as your Mic Drop moment—your time to wrap it up, drop the mic, and walk offstage. Tie your thesis, evidence, and connections together into a sentence or two with a little pizzazz and sense of finality, leaving no room to argue. 

General Tips

Know your audience: This can sometimes help with finding the balance between over- and under-explaining things. With essays, the person grading (the audience) is probably a bit above your current level, unless it’s being marked by another student or something. So write at your level—or the average level of your class/group. For example, if you’re in a second-year university biology class, you probably don’t need to explain what photosynthesis means. But if your essay is on a little known technique to measure chlorophyll levels in plants, you might need to explain some things that you already know, but others might not. Remember, your goal is neither to dumb yourself down nor put yourself on an academic pedestal—your goal is to communicate a message in an effective way that can be understood by the appropriate audience.

Pick a relevant topic: Sometimes this doesn’t apply, as you have limited choices. But, whenever possible, choose a topic that you actually know something about and/or are willing to write about. Sometimes even asking your teacher/prof if you can choose your own topic is worth it. The main point: picking something you find interesting makes you more willing to put in the work to write a good essay. Pick you favourite topic out of the options (or, at a minimum, the one yo hate the least).

Experiment with the writing process: Some people swear it’s easier to write the conclusion first, while others absolutely have to write the essay in chronological order. Some people need to finish what they start, some people need to flit around and add things as they think of them. Ultimately, the order you write things is very much a personal preference, and something worth experimenting with if you’re struggling!

Cater to your writing needs: Writers will tell you that they need to set up a space to write. Some people like writing on their bed or in a cafe. Some people need absolute quiet while others can’t focus without background noise. Some people need frequent breaks for the best results, others need to sit through until they’re done. The time of day can affect your writing—writing in the morning might be really difficult if you’re most alert at midnight. Lastly, experiment with different media. Maybe writing on a laptop just doesn’t work for you, and pen and paper is the way to go. Typewriters are fun. Microsoft Word might work better for you than Google Docs. Find out what works for you and gets you into a writing headspace.

Repetition and word choice: To avoid sounding like a broken record, make sure you use a different first (and even last) word for each paragraph. I always notice when an essay writer only starts paragraphs with the word “the”. Another helpful way to vary your word choice at the beginning of paragraphs is to use different types of word, preferably words that aren’t articles (a, an, or the). Using a noun, verb, or transition word can keep things interesting and help your writing flow.

Write with an active voice: Writing with an active, positive, and resolute voice fortifies your writing. An active voice is when the subject is the focus rather than the object, whereas a passive voice is the opposite. Example: “Sally ate a grape” is active because Sally (subject) ate a grape (object). “A grape was eaten by Sally” is passive because the grape (object) was eaten by Sally (subject). Essentially, if the sentence includes (or could include) “by [Subject]”, it’s passive. Even if you wrote “A grape was eaten,” that’s still passive. An active voice includes the subject doing the action, whereas a passive voice includes the object having something done to it. It’s a wishy-washy way of writing, though it’s sometimes inevitable in formal writing because you can’t use subjective pronouns. As for a positive voice, it doesn’t mean your essay has to be happy or perky—it means your writing, when possible, should focus on the positive part (what did happen or was added) rather than the negative part (what didn’t happen or was taken away). Example: “Sally didn’t eat an apple” is negative, because it just says what Sally didn’t do. “Sally ate a grape” is positive because it said what she did do. Lastly, use a resolute voice. Be concise and to the point without muddling the message with unnecessary words. Example: “Sally just a grape” is tentative. “Sally ate a grape” is resolute. Word like “just”, “maybe”, “really”, “perhaps”, “necessarily” are not resolute and can weaken your argument. Definitely take this advice for your thesis. 

Communicate clearly: Using long or complicated words can improve your writing—but if they’re overused or used unnecessarily, it can actually weaken your argument because no one understands what you’re trying to say under all that academic jargon. If you can’t explain your argument in an understandable way, you probably don’t have a good grasp of your argument. This isn’t to discredit people who have a hard time articulating while writing or people who need to use complicated words—but the whole point of a paper is to communicate a message in an effective way. If you’re too caught up in using big words, it’s very easy to lose the actual focus of the paper.

Fortify your opening/closing statements: If the person grading your paper has a lot of other papers to go through, they’re not gonna read every word you write. Focus on strengthening your first and last sentences of each paragraph to perhaps improve your mark with the graders who skim.

Proofread: PLEASE read through and edit your work. You don’t have to completely rewrite your paper (who has the time???), but definitely proofread it when you’re done. If possible (I know it isn’t always, but it really helps), give yourself as much time as possible, then do another read through. Even waiting an hour or two and then going through it again can help you catch some last-minute mistakes. When you’ve been staring at the same paper for three hours, you kinda just ignore the mistakes because they’re burned into your brain. Going back can help you catch them and fix them before handing it in. Double check the assignment requirements, including formatting, sources, grammar, etc.

Kudos to you if you made it to the end! This took me 4 hours? 5? I hope it helps some of you in school. Essays can be a really fun thing to write if you’re passionate about the topic, and they shouldn’t be nearly as hard as school makes them. Even if you didn’t read this whole thing, I hope my graphic can be helpful! The original essay structure from the other post made me mad because no wonder some of you guys struggle! When you don’t have the tools, it makes life difficult.

Here’s a pic of my cat and dog for making it this far!

End note: I’ve never done an image description so I apologize if it’s not perfect!

[fuckyeahasexual]

How do I know I am ace and not just extremly gender dysphoric because I am questioning my gender, don't want people to see me naked in any way, but I also haven't been sexually attracted to anyone, but I also heard that is normal for trans masc individuals until they start T and I am panicing

Aces over index being trans, and as a trans ace I think that’s beautiful. But it also can be really confusing. I say, label how you feel now. Words are a tool that help you best in the moment because people feel things in the moment. Now lets say, you start T later and aren’t dysphoric and poof sexual attraction appears. Okay, cool. That isn’t a failing. That doesn’t make you wrong when you labeled before. Your labels can change because labels are tools for you to communicate. What you need to communicate down the road might be different than where you can now. Your labels might never change so remember panicking about a hypothetical that you can’t prepare for doesn’t ever help you, so let yourself be whatever you feel right now, today. You have nothing but acceptance from me whatever happens so I hope you give your some of that too.