#my health is still pretty shit but at least my burn out is getting better (i think)

[choccy-sippy]

Spring? No. I'm in hell, the sun is on steroid

[blkdaddie]

Empregnas University: Code Gold

I shifted in my seat as Professor Roca droned on. As a second-year law student class, it's important to have good notes but my concentration is shot today. The baby has been sitting low in my pelvis for a week with no signs of labor. At least I can breathe a bit better but a 10 lb baby plus sitting for hours is murder on my back. I feel the now familiar urge to pee, and ease my heft to my feet. Prof. Roca doesn’t miss a beat of his lecture – with almost 40% of our student body pregnant at any time they’re pretty easygoing about bathroom trips during class. I take a few shuffling steps, knowing my waddle has become exaggerated with this bowling ball of a kid between my hips, when I feel a sudden wetness. I try to waddle faster mortified that I’ve wet myself, when a contraction seizes me and I double over with a grunt. “Holy shit, Derek’s finally having his kid!”. If I weren’t in so much pain I would laugh; I realize the wetness is at my rear – my waters have broken.

Prof. Roca finally pauses his speech on the intersection of artificial intelligence and ethics, turning his attention to me with a sigh. “I really thought we’d get through one semester without a labor starting in class. Damn nuisance, these kids.”  I don’t know if he’s referring to me or the baby, but I’m too panicked to care. This baby feels like a boulder between my hips and I sink to my knees aided by a classmate,  Anthony. I distractedly notice he has a slight belly, and he’s clearly freaking out, probably imagining his own labor.  I’m too breathless to reassure him.

Prof. Roca crosses to an old-school landline phone on the wall and I understand why it’s still there when he picks up the receiver. “Code Gold, Memorial Hall Room 242. And send janitorial, he’s leaking all over the place.”

The pressure is immense. I feel like I’m floating outside of my body as I watch my belly warp from the force of my muscles all moving the baby down.   “Derrick, just sit tight for a minute, health center is sending someone with a wheelchair. Now, where were we…”  Professor prepares to continue his lesson but I can’t bite back the pained cry that escapes my lips. I have an overwhelming need to push, and start scrambling for the waistband of my jeans. “Um, professor, I don’t think he has a minute!”  Anthony awkwardly kneels beside me and I feel cool air against my ass as I push my pants lower. A couple of classmates who have delivered before rush to my side, but most sit there gawking. We all know anal birth is normal and natural but seeing it live and in person is some wild shit.   James, who I know had twins last year, probes to check my dilation, and Andre, who has a toddler, starts talking to me softly.  “Bro, you gotta focus. Quit screaming and breathe. Da fuck is wrong with you, coming to class like this?”  He shakes his head but looks resolved when James signals something from over my shoulder. “Next contraction, fuckin’ push.”    My belly hangs low and heavy as I sit back on my haunches, looking for any relief, but it’s futile.  I’m terrified but my body takes over. One push. Then another. Unbearable burning. On the third push the baby’s head is out and I can feel it wiggling. The sensation is surreal but I don’t have time to ponder. I bear down again and the baby slides out into James’ hands. I feel a sudden physical emptiness but my heart is bursting when I hear a mewling, then a cry. My classmates help me lie back; I’m shivering as I come down from the adrenaline high, but my grasp on my wet squawking baby is confident and secure. Professor Roca gives up, slamming his laptop shut. “Forget it. Class dismissed. See you on Thursday.”

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 20/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 21, PART 22

Like ketchup. Slowly then all at once.

Radioapple!

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Lucifer still feels like he's underwater, floating where the current takes him. He thinks he's dreaming because his eyes refuse to open all the way.

At least he isn't burning anymore.

It's mostly quiet, the only sound he can hear is the sloshing of the water.

It's calm. He doesn't know how long has it been since he's been calm in the quiet without company.

Once in a while though, he hears voices. The waves carry them in weird intervals and he tries very hard to think who is talking.

'You'll be okay, Luci.'

'I'll do everything to make you comfortable and back to full health.'

'AN HONOR TO SERVE YOU, SIRE. DO GET BETTER. I SHALL GIVE YOU THE BEST SERVANT THE GOETIA CAN PROVIDE.'

'Big bro, if you wake up now, I'll give you a lifetime supply of my juice!'

'Okay fine, I'll change Looloo Land's name fo real, yeah?'

'You need to meet Fizzie still, Luci.'

'Don't worry sir! I didn't touch a single duck in your room when I cleaned it. No more bugs though!'

'Zestial and I give our deepest gratitude in behalf of the overlords, Your Majesty.'

'Charlie is a fast learner.'

'Oh, Your Majesty, do wake up. I don't think I can take any more of Alastor's not-rambling. I love me some romance but whooowee, a woman has her limits, yknow!'

'I don't think I can eva' thank ya enough fo' setting me free, short king.'

'Pretty badass, your kingness.''

'I want to get to know you still sir.'

'Darling, do come back to me now. I miss you so. And do not listen to any of Rosie's lies.'

'Dad, please wake up. I need you.'

The last voice caused the calm waters to turn into a whirlpool and he feels himself being pulled down. A bright light appears in front of him, illuminating the deep, dark waters. And for a moment, just a moment, he thinks- no it couldn't be;

He reaches out a hand to touch but as soon as it did, he was propelled to the surface.

Lucifer wakes up slowly and then all at once. The King blinks in confusion and trying to get his eyesight to clear. A blurry figure of white is the first to greet him; no face but it's smiling?

'Father?'

Charlie: Dad!

Huh?

Lucifer: Charlie?

He winces at the state of his voice. Did he scream himself sore? He tries remembering what happened and-

The roots.

Roo.

A ritual.

Charlie.

Hell.

Sloth.

Goodie.

The deal.

A prophecy.

A sudden pain stabbed his head which caused him to groan.

Lucifer: Shit!

He forces himself to sit up just to relieve it a little. A rubbing hand on his back grounds him a bit. Looking up, he came face-to-face with his daughter. His sweet, lovely, Charlie.

Charlie: Woah, Dad. Take it easy. Here have water and some pain meds. Aunt Bel left it here just in case.

He doesn't need to be told twice as he took the pill, noting the bitter taste in his mouth. Pride be damned (ha! get it?), he just wants the pain to go away.

Charlie is still fussing and talking a million miles per hour and Lucifer doesn't have the heart to make her stop even though his head is about to split in half.

Maybe Charlie will forgive him if he snaps right now. Thankfully that doesn't happen as a new person comes to enter his room.

Alastor: Charlie, dear, I think your father would appreciate a quieter room.

Charlie: - Oh, Al! Right! Sorry, dad.

Lucifer: It's okay, applepie. Can you also dim the lights a bit?

Alastor: Charlie, might I ask of you to get food for your father? There should be some leftovers still.

Charlie: O-oh I- Sure, Al! Be right back, dad!

As soon as she left, Alastor moves to Lucifer's bedside. Lucifer follows his movements and only then does the King realize the insane amount of flowers taking up every space in his room. And then he realized that Alastor has some in his hands too.

Lucifer: What's all this?

Alastor: Why, tokens from your loved ones and dearest citizens. These ones are of mine.

The Radio Demon points at the golden Marigolds. Lucifer observes the other flowers and sees that every bunch has atleast a few Marigolds tucked in them.

Did.. did Alastor put them there so he could have the most flowers given? What a possessive bastard.

His endearment must be obvious in his face because Alastor huffed- freaking huffed!

Alastor: Whatever you are thinking, it is simply nonsense.

Lucifer puts his hands up in a mock surrender.

Lucifer: I didn't say anything.

Alastor: Good.

Alastor can be so cute when he wants (or not want?) to be. His lover? partner? Yeah, partner, sits down by his side, letting Lucifer lean onto his shoulder.

He's not soft like Lilith but Lucifer feels just as content. The sin of Pride stares at his arms that is now covered in runes he doesn't understand, no longer just plain black. Roo really did a number on him- her powers were far too strong it basically altered his appearance. He's more demon now than he was ever an angel. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

Alastor: Some things are to be discussed, right, Your Majesty?

Lucifer: Mmm. Yeah. But- I can't. Not right now. I'm not sure if I can.

Alastor: That's alright, mon ange. We are not in a hurry. We have our afterlife.

Lucifer bites his lip and holds Alastor's hands in guilt. This is a burden he must carry himself. What's inside him... it would be more dangerous if anyone else knew, especially Heaven. It's better to think of it as a wild card than a ticking time bomb.

Alastor hums a tune that makes him sleepy again. He doesn't remember falling asleep but he does vaguely recall being laid down again. He remembers a feeling of a kiss on his forehead, something brushing his cheek and moving his hair.

A nice calm before the storm.

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

Charlie took so long cos she wanted to heat it up but the microwave is missing?? (Alastor's doing)

Next chapter, Luci will wake again and have a talk with Charlie

Just wanted to get some Radioapple in there.

[spiral-man]

My self indulgent list of Entities and what I think my connection to them would be, let’s go:

The Eye-I believe I could be a good avatar of the Eye because I’m super nosy, and have always been told I ask to many questions and am to curious and also I’m a pretty open book myself.

The Spiral-If I had to Pick an Entity I think I’d be most likely to serve it would be the Spiral. I have a lot of mental health issues and I have a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake within my perception, Also I’m Pansexual and Pangender and I have ADHD so….

The Flesh-Think I could definitely be at least marked by The Flesh due to a history of $elf Harm (getting better!) and my fondness for NBC Hannibal.

The Lonely-Depression and Anxiety make me prime real-estate for the lonely and I have a bad tendency of dwelling in my own misery at times and finding comfort in that which is what this entity feeds on.

The Slaughter-I’ve got some anger issues and have a bit of a violent tendency at times (working on it).

The Hunt-Used to (still do) love games like tag and hide and seek, I really loved the adrenaline rush those games give you, especially in the woods or something.

The Stranger-I have a bit of a hard time feeling human, I feel like I’m doing it wrong most of the time, like I’m just ever so slightly off compared to everyone else, like I’m just pretending.

The Web-Manipulative parents need I say more.

The Dark-Always loved the dark, find it very comforting.

The End-I’ve never been scared of death, I’ve had some past suicidal issues and now I’m currently studying to be a funeral director/embalmer.

The Desolation-My family has a history of Arson in the sense that one of my grandmas siblings almost burnt their house down because they liked to play with matches, my grandmas son did burn a playground down because he liked to play with matches and my grandmas granddaughter (me, hi) also has almost burnt her house down (multiple times) due to enjoying playing with matches.

The Corruption-Probably my worst fear, when I was younger I loved bugs but these day they make me so uncomfortable, thinking about them makes me itch, and similar idea with rot in general I just hate it, this fear would have a easy time feeding on me.

The Buried-Similar to the dark, I actually do not mind super confined spaces and in fact find them sort of comforting at times.

The Vast-I used to really love to climb trees but I could never get to high up because I was scared of how unsteady it felt, in general I like climbing shit to be up high but if it feels unstable I feel like I’m about to pass out.

the Exctinction-Lived through a pandemic and constantly being informed about different new events that could end the world.

If you read all this, hot damn I love you wow thank you so much haha, this was purely self indulgent as ive seen other people do it and I find the fears so interesting.

[thatoneperson747]

Hi

So while procrastinating writing the fic I'm working on, I decided it was time for me to read the Royal Ranger. I only have book one, and I've had it for about a year now, but I never read even the first page. I've heard stuff throughout the fandom about it, but I've tried to stay away from royal ranger specific posts in order to not spoil the book for me.

If you also haven't read it yet and want to avoid spoilers, stop reading now. You've been warned.

Here's the things I knew before reading:

Will has a beard now. This is very controversial.

Alyss dies. She was burned to death. Also very controversial.

Horace and Cassie have a daughter named Maddie. Maddie becomes Will's apprentice.

And that's about it.

I decided that since the Royal Ranger was so hit or miss for the community, I'd document my thoughts on it (as a personal record, if you will) and see how my opinions change, if they change at all. Feel free to laugh at me if I make predictions and they end up being completely wrong lol

I've read the first seven chapters, and here are the main thoughts I have right now.

1. Is Will now just Halt? When he was first being described during the scene with Henry Wheeler, I dead ass thought Flanagan was talking about Halt. I mean, Will is grey already? Like, fully grey. He's described as having a "steel-grey beard." Not grey and brown, just grey. Halt???

2. Alyss' death fit her character well, but why did she have to die? Keep in mind, I was never the biggest fan of Alyss - I thought a character as interesting as a diplomat should have more personality than just "the main character's girlfriend" - but come on? We barely got to see them married. Idk man. I feel like her death would be better justified if they had actually like. been together longer? 10/10 for writing her death though, saving a poor child from death seems really in character for her, especially considering that's pretty much what Baron Arald did for the ward kids (he didn't die for it but still, he saved them from a childhood of neglect and almost certain death). I feel like it's a great wrap to her story, although I wish her story was longer.

3. Crowley was done dirty. What the actual f u c k Flanagan? The Corps Commander, the man, myth, and legend gets a paragraph to explain his death. It's such a lamely written death too? Crowley, a ranger, who was probably in peak health, just nopes out one night. At least he was smiling..? And maybe it's the fact that TEY is my favorite part of the series so far, but Crowley deserved way better than that shit. Also I'm surprised that I managed to not know about Crowley's death before this?? I actually cried reading it. He was such a precious little man in TEY, how could you do this Flanagan???

4. Maddie is a bit of a brat. Not even a bit, she kinda just is. To be fair, Cassie was that way sometimes as well, but Maddie just seems... I don't know, too much of a 'I-do-what-I-want-and-you-can't-stop-me' kinda person, but in a bad way??? Like that one kid in school who would never listen to authority figures and got everyone in trouble all the time? I hope she mellows out because she could be a great character, I think. It's said she takes after her mom, but I'd like to see her act like Horace too.

5. Gilan. Just Gilan. What?? I never liked his relationship with Jenny much, he seems quite a bit too old for her (at least 5 years, most likely quite a bit more since Halt had a few years between Gilan and Will), but he's so relentless in asking her to marry him? Huh??

And also, BOLD of Flanagan to assume Gilan would be hesitant about letting a girl into the corps. This man has traveled with Cassie. He's traveled with Lydia from Brotherband. He knows women are capable. I mentioned not liking his and Jenny's relationship, but like. he even respects her. She's a business woman, she owns her own restaurant. No one can possibly convince me that Gilan doesn't drink his respect-women juice DAILY. It feels out of character for him.

6. Poor Duncan. That's the end of the sentence.

7. Those guards are hysterical. Ah, yes, let's just casually not mention or try to stop the princess sneaking in and out of the castle even though this could end really really badly. Perfect logic.

And yeah that's all I got right now. I'm very excited to see how my opinions so far change! I'll document them here too in case anyone cares. Feel free to reblog with your own RR opinions and the like! I'd love to see what you guys think of my takes lol

[jejuboo-s]

YOU’RE JUST FINE WITH ME — X.MH

PAIRING: Xu Minghao x Sick!Reader

A/N: Hey babes, sorry I haven’t been posting much— I’ve been sick with the flu recently and haven’t got any motivation to get up, let alone finish a fanfiction. Minghao being one of my huge comforts I decided to make this bcuz I’ve been feeling like shit. Please reblog and give me your thoughts, thank you, Lee’s out!

GENRE: Fluff

★ PLOT: You wake up to yourself sniffling, confused you feel your head growing hotter by the second—where as Minghao is by your side through all of it to ease your pain and gift a few laughs.

You woke from a weird dream, sniffling. No—you didn’t feel like you were crying, you just felt hot in general.

While in the midst of sitting up, you felt a force dragging you back down softly. Groaning, you looked to your side to see a brown-haired Minghao at your side with a cold and wet towel.

“Don’t move, I could tell your sick. Just lay flat, let me take care of you.” He spoke.

His voice sounded like your favorite flavored candy, it was practically impossible to refuse as your body subconsciously falls back again—eyes moving to Hao’s slender hands and how they folded that towel so quickly.

He moved the hair out of your face laying the cold towel on your forehead—you flinched from the sudden temperature change, Hao soothing you with small taps on your arm.

“So cold ‘Hao, too cold..” You sobbed.

“I know, I know. This is to make you feel better though—It hurts me too to see you like this but just stay still. For me.”

Giving him a weak nod, you felt for his hands, holding them. If he’d been truly honest, he’d admit that you looked so cute and vulnerable. Minghao loved when you were sick because he liked to tend to your needs.

“I’ve got some medicine here too,” He took a small cup of your least favorite medicine off of your bed-side table.

You kicked your feet softly, whining like a baby, you absolutely hated the taste of that particular medicine. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“I have water over there too, I’ll have you drink it so it won’t be as bad. Now how does that sound?”

You reluctantly nodded—mumbling unnecessary complaints to yourself along the way. He took two fingers and tapping them onto your lips, and you opened your mouth fully.

He took the small solo cup as you watched through lidded eyes and poured the liquid into his mouth—crouching down to your face level he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your mouth letting the medicine seep into your system.

Wiping his mouth he shrugged, “The medicine really isn’t that bad, your just pretty picky babe.”

You looked at him with daggers in your eyes. Pointing at the water, he took the cup in his hand watching you closing your eyes waiting for him to kiss you.

“Awe, my baby looks so pretty waiting to get kissed.” Hao mused.

You immediately opened your eyes and pulled the sheets to cover your face, burning up once again—but for the wrong reasons.

Calming down, you felt hands pulling down the covers revealing your red face. Your boyfriend pulled a few tissues out of a box, wiping your nose clean of any more mucus—not caring for his own health.

Finally keeping his promise, he took some water in his mouth transferring it to yours with another kiss, this time, he decided to keep the kiss going. It just felt so soft and delicate; it was almost like you were falling in love with him for the first time again.

Finally pushing him away for air, you scoffed, “Seriously, what if you get sick too from all this kissing and teasing huh? You’re gonna be the death of me Hao.”

“Just let me be and let us stay silent for a while, yeah?”

“I think that’d be fine just don’t—hey! Stop it you’re gonna get sick too dummy!” You whined while Minghao got in the sheets next to you cuddling you for warmth.

“Stop thinking about me, you know you’d like this too.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Of course I do.”

[4joonkookie]

Merry Nothing 🎄🚫

I hope you're taking it easy on yourself. Been seeing a lot of dread and misery on social media of people having to drive long distances and be with family they don't want to be around and the pressure of the holidays tanking people’s mental health. Let this be a reminder that we literally make all that holiday shit up and (easier said than done) you can do whatever you want and what’s best for you (or nothing at all!)

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Pairing: JK x Reader -> Chapter 7 of Cigarette Burns

Words: *sigh* another 4K

Chapter Tags: smut, fluff, holiday dread, pining (kind of), truth-telling, reference to f/f, truth or dare, mutual masturbation, o/c is kind of a pimp.

Notes: Fluffy, semi-holiday smut :) If you want pain, read any other chapter. Scroll to part 3 (III. 💜💜💜) to get right to the smut!

Summary: After a few (much-needed) months apart, you and JK reunite for a unique holiday celebration.

I. 💜💜💜

After waking up, you lay in bed scrolling on your phone when a call flashes on the screen.

“Hello?” You answer the phone to Jungkook. It’s early for him to be awake.

“Hey,” he grumbles. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I just can’t sleep.”

“All night? What’s on your mind?”

“Just… holidays, you know,” he says. “I'm not in the mood for it all this year. I’m going to my parents later today and I'm awake, literally dreading it.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling the same way.”

“At least we don’t have to go to two celebrations this year. Mom’s been hounding me to tell you you’re still invited to ours.”

“Would you feel better about going if I went?” you ask, more of a probing than an offer. 

“No,” he says, confident. “I don’t mean it that way,” he adds after he hears himself. 

You choose not to take offense. “Well, honestly, you dread it every year.”

“I’m over it. The schmoozing, the fake sentiment, the gifts. It's important to my family but,” he trails, heaving a sigh. 

“I know. I told my family I'm staying at home this year. My mom’s letting me out of it out of ‘breakup sympathy’ or something, but I'll be catching shit about it until Labor Day.”

“What was your excuse?”

 “No excuse. I just told the truth. I don’t want to do the same things I've always done that don’t exactly make me happy or that make me feel… dread. I’d rather do nothing or start my own tradition.”

“You can just do that?” he asks, legitimately shocked. 

“I am,” you say. “You’re welcome to join me.” 

He takes a moment to think. “Hiding away from our families? With you?” 

“You don’t have to decide right_”

“I’m in,” he says. 

You smile. Being with Jungkook is the only thing you'd want to stay the same. And you can have it without the pressure of anything or anyone else. 

“Your place?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” Your stomach turns with excitement. Though this opens a can of worms. “Ok,” you say sternly. “Ground Rules.”

He gives an endeared sigh. “Shoot.”

“No gifts.”

“Done,” he replies. “No trees, no ugly sweaters,” he adds. “What will we do?” 

“We can keep the fun stuff. Eat, drink, and be merry.”  

“I’m liking the sound of this.”

“One last thing,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm. “Are we having sex?” 

He chokes out a laugh. “I hadn’t really thought about it since I got the invite,” he says. “Do you want to?”

“Well, we’ve been pretty healthy the past few months, and this could be a big step. Maybe we should talk about what could happen.”

He’s quiet for a while. “Are you afraid that you won’t be able to keep it in your pants?”

“Should I keep it in my pants?” you quip right away. 

“Not if you don't want to,” he says. 

“I’m just saying there’s a reason we’ve only met outside, in public, and sober because the moment we’re alone…”

“You know,” he interrupts. “If you want me to fuck you, you just have to ask. No elaborate ruse is necessary.”

 “I hate you,” you say into the receiver.  

His voice gets lower, softer. More confident. “I’m excited you’re thinking about it. And I know we’ve been super careful and thoughtful and healthy,” he mocks. “Maybe it’s time we get back to doing what’s natural.”

“So, sex, yes?” you try to confirm. “I’m just trying to not spiral. I don’t want to spend all morning anxious about it.”

“So, don’t. Let’s just go where the day takes us.” 

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself you don’t have to run away from this.

“Is it light where you are?” you ask, changing the subject and looking out the window. 

“I’m eight blocks away, so, yes.”

“My new place overlooks the park. The sunrise is pretty. You should see it sometime.”

“Maybe tomorrow morning. What time should I come over today?”

“No set time. Just when you’re ready.”

“I just need a bit to shower and break my mother's heart. What should I bring?”

“Whatever you want. Or nothing.”

Suddenly, a voice echoes from down the hall.

“Are you talking to me?” she says, peeking her head out of the bathroom. 

It’s startling. You almost forgot she was here.

“No, I'm on the phone,” you say to her, pointing to the device at your ear. She nods and closes the bathroom door again. You hold your face in your hands. There’s no way Jungkook didn’t hear her. Something about it just feels like you don’t want to tell him. 

“Who’s that?” Jungkook asks, curiously. 

You spill the truth before your brain comes up with a lie too fast. “I_ went out last night. Brought company home.” And you’re glad he can’t see how red your face is. 

“Wooooooooow,” he chuckles. “So, spill the details. Who is she? What’s her name?”

Your stomach turns at the mention of Jungkook’s probing. It reawakens old feelings and makes you feel possessive about someone you hardly know.

Wait… her name?

“That’s a great question,” you say, playing back the previous night in your mind, frantically searching for when she mentioned it.

“Scoring so many girls you can’t keep their names straight, huh?” he teases.

“I hate you,” you say again.

“Look, don’t let me interrupt you if you have company.”

“She’s leaving. She’s got plans with her family today.”

“Ok,” he says. “I’ll be over in a few hours.”

“See you then. You can let yourself in.”

II. 💜💜💜

You spend some time frantically cleaning. The place is brand new and not messy at all, but you can’t help yourself. The nerves follow you into the shower. 

It’s been a couple of months since the wedding. You and Jungkook have taken careful walks and drank mindful coffees and had a few lengthy, friendly phone calls but not too late. You have keys and have seen each other's places during doggie drop-off, but haven’t been together, alone, inside four walls. 

You both have mostly been spending time alone. Which is good. You can feel how your relationship has adjusted and semi-settled into this new, unknown place. 

But he wouldn’t be coming over if you weren’t having sex, right? You couldn’t possibly not have sex if he stayed the night, right? Is that a good thing? 

You miss him. Ache for him. Lately, you’ve been spending time thinking of your last encounter. How close you were. How you knew you wouldn't have him like this for a while again. Maybe ever. 

Even just a kiss, that feeling of his lips on yours. 

You shut off the water and hear the kitchen faucet running. Excited doggy footsteps on the tile floor. And something smells incredible. Jungkook is already here. 

You spend time in the bedroom to make a difficult wardrobe choice. Simple and understated? Or something that says ‘yes, we’re definitely fucking today’? Or do you just walk out naked?

You opt to dress in something comfortable, take a deep breath, and exit the bedroom.

“Hi,” he says, approaching to hug you. You embrace and he gives you a festive kiss on the lips. 

It makes you feel light. It’s old & comfortable and new & exciting all at once. 

“What smells so good?“ You ask, as Jungkook sets a plate in front of you. “What is this?”

He shrugs. “I made it up,” he says. 

You giggle, taking a bite. Everything he ‘makes up’ is a masterpiece.

“Good?” he asks, on edge. 

“So good,” you reply. 

A kiss and a meal from this man in two minutes and you’re in heaven. He gathers something from his bag and sits down next to you, placing 2 glasses in front. He holds a bottle of champagne and you give him the eye. 

“What? Don’t act like I need to twist your arm to have a glass of champagne. We’re celebrating.”

You zip your lips. He looks curiously at the bottle.

“I probably should’ve brought more, huh?” He says, pouring into the glasses.

You shrug. “There’s two more bottles in the fridge,” you admit. 

“That’s my girl.” He raises his glass. 

“To a Very Merry Nothing,”

You click glasses. “Merry Nothing.”

III. 💜💜💜

Hours pass and you lay on the couch, catching up on a show you used to watch together. 

“I did not see that coming,” he says, eyes locked on the black screen.

“How could you not? It’s so obvious!”

“How is it obvious?” he asks, turning to face you.

Your eyes dart down. “Well…” you begin to admit. “I guess it wasn’t quite so obvious to me the first time I watched it.”

“You finished it? Without me?!”

“We broke up. I can’t believe you didn’t,” raising your arms in defense.

“I couldn’t. I was heartbroken. It reminded me of you.” He playfully points his finger at you. “You’re heartless.”

You roll your eyes. And he strokes your legs where they’re draped in his lap. You take a deep breath and the air changes. Can just feel it. 

“So, what now?” he says, dragging his hands higher up your thigh. 

“Well, we’ve killed two bottles, eaten our way through an entire cheese plate, and finished the last season.”

“I’d like to point out, we’ve been together and drinking and semi-horizontal for several hours now and we’re still fully clothed. Just doing what’s natural.”

“You’re right,” you say. 

“We’ve made more progress than you give us credit for,” he adds, scolding.

“You’re right,” you repeat.

“Truth or Dare?” He asks.

“Oh ok,” you scoff, knowing the idea could nose-dive you right into a mess. 

“Come on! Good, clean, fun. It’s festive. And it doesn’t have to be sexual…all the time. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” you answer.

He thinks for a while. “What did you do with my black sweater?”

You remember the monochrome that used to be your shared closet. “I’m going to need you to narrow that down,” you laugh. 

“The one with the felt stripes. It was kind of old,” he describes. 

“Oh,” you say in realization. “I threw it out.”

“What?”

“It was just sitting in the closet. You never took it. It was hideous anyway.”

“I can’t believe you,” he remarks. “Heartless.”

“You asked.” raising your eyebrows. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” he opts.

“What did you do with the ring?” He’s quiet for a while and it’s good to know where the nerve strikes. “It’s ok, whatever you did, I'm just curious. Even if you sold it, I wouldn’t call you ‘heartless’ or anything.”

“I still have it,” he nods. “I’m not quite ready to let go of it yet and… that’s all I'm willing to say about it.”

“Ok,” you nod. 

“And you’re not ‘heartless,” he says, combing hair behind your ear. I like this nothing-but-honest-confidence thing. It’s sexy.” He smiles. “Truth or Dare?” he asks.

“Truth.”

“Do you still talk to Taehyung?” 

“Right now, no.” You sigh. “But I'd like to. I… really hurt him and put him in a shitty spot. He was destined to be the roadkill on the you & me highway and I just let it happen. I want to apologize to him. I just know right now, it would be a selfish gesture.”

He nods. “Will you tell me when you’re going to talk to him again?”

“Yes,” you say. “How does that make you feel? That I might talk to him again.”

“I hate it. But I understand,” he soothes. He pats your thighs with his hands. “Ok, something fun now.”

“Truth or Dare?” You ask.

“Dare,” he picks. 

“Take off your shirt,” you say. And he does quickly. excited. 

“Truth or Dare?” he asks, eager.

“Truth,” you say, teasing.

He sticks his tongue out at you. “How long have you been thinking about us having sex?”

You scoff. “Dare,”

“Oh, come on.”

“I said dare.” You shrug.

 He sits back, smug. “Ok. Just this once you can switch.” A mischievous grin crawls across his face. “Show me what you have underneath your clothes.”

“What?!”

“Or you could tell the truth.”

And he knows he’ll find the same truth behind both doors. You could jump him now, and make it clear where your mind was. Or, you could show him your expertly paired bra & panties that will illustrate the same fact.

You stand and lift your sweatshirt over your head, toss it over his face. He removes it with a goofy smile, eyes taking you in. 

“I knew it,” he smiles. You approach him, standing in front of where he sits on the couch. He looks up at you, taking you in. 

He slides his fingers under the straps of your panties. Over your ass, feeling his breath at your hips. 

“You got all dressed up just for me?” He whispers. 

“Well, I had to be prepared,” you say, running fingers through his hair. 

“You could’ve been naked,” he remarks, his bright doe eyes looking up at you. 

 “I considered that,” you say honestly. “Truth or Dare?” you ask. 

“Dare, please.” he says, gripping your ass. 

You hand your glass to him. “Pour me another without spilling?”

 “Will you go wait on the bed?” he says, low and soft. 

 You nod. He stands and walks to the kitchen and you’re glad to have a moment. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you meander to the bedroom. 

He returns, placing the glass on the nightstand and sitting on the bed next to you. 

You both face each other, propped on your elbows on the bed.

“Truth or Dare,” he says. 

“Truth,” you reply, frustrating him.

“Are you dating?”

“No,” you reply. 

“Women?”

“I’m having fun with women,”you say, eyes darting down. 

“Having sex with women?”

“Yes,” you say, feeling your defenses come up again.

“Any fun stories?”

“None that I'm willing to share.”

He nods. “Can I ask why?"

“I'm not comfortable sharing anything about a woman with you. I won’t lie about it… but it will be a while before I want to tell you everything.”

He nods in realization. “Fair enough. Can I ask again another time?”

“Of course,” you say. “What about you? Have you been dating?” you ask. 

“One more thing,” he interrupts, holding up his finger. “Men?”

“Is that important to you?”

“Yeah, that's why I asked,” he says. 

“No men,” you offer.

You roll your eyes at the way he’s been holding his breath, waiting for this answer. 

“Sorry, that was a sigh of relief you just heard.” You stay quiet. “Don’t give me that look. I hate the idea of you having sex with other men. Sue me.”

“What about you? Having sex with anyone? Women? Men?”

“Yeah, allow me to introduce you,” he says, holding out his hand. 

You laugh. “Nothin, huh?”

“Not that I've tried.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“I figure it’s for the best for a while. I was spending some time… burying my emotions in sex. With you and… others.”

“How many others?”

“Is that important to you?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked,” you mimic.

“You… Her,” he mentions under his breath. “and a couple more indiscretions after the wedding.”

You nod, accepting the truth. 

He laughs. “I must say, I feel like a real loser now.”

“Why?”

“This whole setup was a lot sexier when I thought you were as desperate as me.”

“Who says I'm not?”

“You just busted last night. "

“Says who?”

“What, no-name didn't get you off?”

“No. It's not always about that. I got her off and I like that.”

“I like these details,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Did she even try?”

You give him a little shove. “Yes, shut up, it’s hard. You've had years of research and practice.”

He chuckles, getting closer. “Well, is there anything you miss? Do you ever think of me? Miss how we did it?”

“Of course,” you say, and his eyes beg for you to go on. “Let’s just say there is an itch that only you can scratch.”

“Have you ever had a date with your hand thinking of me?” he laces your fingers together, kissing the palm of your hand. 

“Yes,” you say. “My hands and a few other choice tools.”

“How often?”

“Often enough,” you quip. 

“Truth or Dare?” he asks. 

“Dare,” you say, indulging him. “Wait, it’s my turn_”

 “Show me what you do,” he ignores, focused on his mission. “Touch yourself.” His breath has quickened.

 Your tummy turns, filled with butterflies. “Why would I do that when you’re right here?”

“Baby, I promise I'm gonna fuck you until that pretty sunrise comes through that window, but we’re trying something new, right?”

“Ok.” You pause, sitting up and taking a shaky breath, unsure what to do. 

“Look who’s suddenly shy,” he coos. “Come here.” He pulls your body toward him so your back is pressed to his chest. His back is propped on pillows and he can reach around you from behind. He kisses your neck, down over your shoulders and you feel yourself start to sink in.

You cover his hands with yours and guide him to touch. He feels over your skin, dragging between your thighs, and grazing over the fabric of your panties.

His light touches gain more pressure and you watch his fingertips press into your skin. He glides hands up and gropes your breasts, taking a deep breath and humming as he exhales. 

 He’s no longer under your guidance, but you don’t mind. You rest your hands on his legs as he touches you. 

His hands slip under the bust of your bra, filling his hands with you, fabric pulling taut. When he pulls them out, he lowers the straps and unhooks the bra.

One more squeeze of your breasts and he moves down between your legs. You take control of his hands again and press them there, rolling your hips against him. 

 “Like this?” he says, pressing down harder. 

“Hmm_” you hum. He brings his hand to your panties and pulls them to the side, eliciting a little gasp.

“Don’t rip them,” you scold, remembering your time in the closet.

 “Take them off,” he instructs. You do, sliding the lacy fabric over your thighs and around your ankles. 

He parts your knees, leaving you lewdly spread in his lap.

 “So pretty.” He gathers from where you’re wet and drags fingers around your lips, avoiding your clit, leaving it cold and aching. He surprises you with his middle finger sinking inside, holding you in the palm of his hand. 

You try to get control again, grabbing his other hand, wanting to bring it where you need it most. 

“Uh-uh,” he says, over the ruse and wanting to be in control. 

“You said I should show you,” you say, breathless.

“I changed my mind,” he protests. 

His two fingers pushed up inside pull out and drag up with pressure out of your entrance and over your clit, then back down the same path before sinking them deep inside again. Again and again he does this, feeling the deepest part inside you and rubbing over your sensitive clit, until your knees are buckling again.

 He uses his free hand to open them more forcefully, keeping you exposed.

 Now, just the pads of two fingers brushing over you, not too fast or slow, just the right speed to be squirming beneath him as he whispers filthy praises in your ear.

Can feel his cock pressing into your back as he rolls his hips into you. 

You turn over, one step from mounting him, eager to get his cock inside before he halts your hips.

“More of this,” he says, fingers still working on you. You move a little closer, straddling his thigh. 

You reach down to pull his cock from his sweatpants, grazing fingertips over his cock. At least, what you can reach from this height. He jolts at the gentle touch, using his free hand to grip your hip.

You moan at the way his skillful fingers move on you. You lower yourself onto the bare skin of his thigh so you can properly grasp him and relax your body. He groans at the first full stroke of his cock.

You reach to the bedside table for a bottle of lube and pour drops over his shaft. You spread yourself over his thigh as you stroke him, finding your hips beginning to roll. He wastes no time and snatches the bottle to pour over the estate you’ve claimed on his leg, making everything that much more slippery. 

Your eyes roll back from the friction his warm, muscular thigh provides. It covers, rubs, and presses against every centimeter of your pussy. 

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this before,” you manage through shaky breaths. 

You keep your strokes even and strong, pushing down on his balls and letting his tip drag through your fingertips, hand gliding over him. His head falls backward. 

“Stop,” he moans, removing your hand from his cock. He exhales, so close already. His tip is dripping. Leaking and red. So hot to see him this way, hungry and eager. “Why is your hand so much better than mine?” He pants, letting go of your wrists. He pulls your arms over his shoulders.

He takes a break, placing both hands on your hips and watching you. You grind on his leg, sliding back and forth on his smooth skin.

“Does that feel so good?” he taunts.

You can only nod and grind your hips faster. He flexes his leg, pushing up, and the pressure builds in your belly. 

Mischievous laugh. “Are you gonna come for me, baby? Just like this?” He taunts, slowly palming himself again. It’s sexy. You’ve hardly ever seen him touch himself like this with eyes locked on you. The images he gives fuel you.

You match your hips with his stroke, drag your lips between your teeth and let it wash over you, moaning as it pulses through you. He gives your ass a spank when you come.

You dismount him with shaky legs and he lays you flat on your back, still palming himself at the sight of you. You take over again, twisting and turning your wrist over him, loving having control of him like this. 

He reaches between your legs and fingers, still giving your oversensitive pussy attention. The stroking is lewd. Lubed and wet. His eyes are glued to your hand, enjoying himself. 

“Baby_” he moans. “Baby, I’m gonna come, fuck,” and his fingers go still inside you.

White ropes of cum spill over your tits and tummy again and again as you stroke and wring him dry. He pants and spreads the cum with his fingers, painting your chest and swirling it over your nipples. He presses his fingers to your lips and groans as you suck them clean. 

He lies next to you and kisses you, grabbing some clothing nearby to wipe you up. 

He lays his head on your chest. “Missed you,” he says, one more gentle peck. 

“Missed you,” you reply. 

He spoons behind you as you both come down, looking out the window. 

“Of all the things I thought we might do today… this was not on the list. We hardly got your pants off,” you joke.

“Well, we have plenty of time before sunrise.”                  

[gabbagepatch]

Day by day ~ 3-29-2024

Since my last blog I saw my optometrist and my eyes have gotten a clean bill of health! Nothing "wrong" with my eyes except some surface dryness.

I still haven't received a call from any neurologist and my bloodwork is delayed because the lab technician is on vacation. I'm pretty antsy for answers, obviously, because this shit has really been difficult. If I can at least find out why, even if it's not "cured", I won't be so scared. It's scary not knowing. I asked my PCP to test my urine for gadolinium because the sensory symptoms onset two days after my MRI in February and I found some reports of people with near-identical symptoms after being administered MRI contrast. PCP seemed skeptical, but I haven't had any other obvious solutions presented to me.

I feel like a conspiracy nut a lot. Is it this? What about that? Should I get this test? I'm desperate for answers. I accessed my own MRI to check for Chiari Malformation (didn't have it). My family is telling me to step away from searching but how can I? I feel awful and I'm expected to wait patiently for months to see doctors that don't help. Who's supposed to be looking for answers when doctors won't?

Doctors act like patients, especially women, are trying to scam them into diagnosis's, like we want to be ill. I don't want this to be happening. ~shocker~ I wish I felt "normal", whatever that means. If I had one wish, I'd wish for health. I'm tired. Tired of waking up everyday to a life of discomfort, to headaches, to feeling restless, to pain, to uncertainty.

I know I sound depressed, I guess I kindof am. I started this year with tinnitus, and I'm heading into April with a laundry list of physical challenges and no answers.

I don't think anyone that hasn't had these symptoms understand the mental toll it takes when your body is never at rest. Always twitching, burning, stinging, buzzing, cramping, aching, ringing--I haven't felt truly relaxed since Christmas 2023. I can't even sit on my phone and scroll mindlessly because my own eyes turn everything into a lightshow.

I'm not normally someone who likes to pity party, but get the balloons because that's how I feel today. I'm sure I'll perk up, do an activity, watch something, and I'll feel a bit better by tonight. But then the high will fade and I'll crawl into bed and begin shaking and hurting all over. I'll wake up and do it again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. I'll keep going, even if it's miserably.

──────────────────── 〔✿〕 ─────────────────────

 "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body." 2 Corinthians 4:8-10

──────────────────── 〔✿〕 ─────────────────────

[ardathksheyna]

Do It For You

I haven't been posting my art as much. The reason? I'm tired of attempting to coerce whatever algorithm each site is using to reach my current followers or even new followers—and that includes Tumblr. I was doing pretty good on Instagram... until they changed their algos to favor big influencers more, which happened sometime in August.

Actually, Tumblr seems to be the worst offender compared to other sites. Or I'm probably getting pissy because of the tabs "For You", "Your tags", and "Following"—all three show me the same shit I saw a few days ago. And don't even get me started on Tumblr Live. If I wanted Only Fans, I'd go to Only Fans. But I digress...

Since then, I've slowed down on posting artwork of any sort on all platforms that I'm part of. Yesterday was probably the first piece I've posted in a while, and that was basically done on a whim.

Anyway, what it boils down to is I am (and a lot of other people) are tired of sacrificing mental health for likes because in order to keep the engagement, you have to constantly churn out piece after piece. Unfortunately, the algorithms seem to favor quantity over quality—you can bust your ass on a piece, but someone else churning out prompts (yes, I'm referring to AI art) can get more engagement because that's what the algos favor: speed.

AI art is problematic by itself—for many reasons, the least of which is how the AI algo is trained. However, that is a complicated mess and another thoughtful post for another time.

On the flip-side, algorithms also favor videos over static content—Insta's in particular (basically favoring the sloppy seconds of TikTok over genuine content). On that subject, I like YouTube's implementation (Shorts) better than Instagram's anyway.

All that being said, the current climate of the internet is hostile to content creators. Twenty years ago, you didn't have this uphill battle of trying to train an algorithm just to get views. Really, all you had to do optimize for search engines and you were pretty much set.

Now, it's a balance between your mental health and trying to retain the level of engagement that you do have, and then become frustrated when you're doing everything right and still get fucked because some bean-counter decided that they want more profits.

It's almost too easy to get discouraged and think that what you're doing doesn't matter and all you're really doing is shouting into the void. When that happens, you have to ask yourself these questions:

Who are you doing this for? (0 for someone else, 10 for yourself)

Do you like making art? (0 for no, 10 for yes)

Do you want the attention (rate 0 to 10)

Are you only doing this for likes (rate 0 to 10)

Yeah, I made that up on the spot. Whatever score for each question you come up with will tell you where your priorities are. If you're doing this for anything other than enjoyment or for yourself, well... that leads me to my next part:

You see, I learned a long time ago that when you're doing something mental/time-intensive for reasons other than pure enjoyment, it is very easy to get burned out quickly. I know this because once upon a time, I used to enjoy writing code. After graduation, I spent my free time trying to improve my skills—not for myself or because I enjoyed it, but because I thought it was the only way for me to retain a job in my field.

Well, I think we know how that ended—badly.

Because of my past experiences, I made a decision a while ago that what I'm doing, I'm doing for me (and maybe my boyfriend) but not for anyone else. The stories I write, the artwork I create. I'm not doing it for likes, I'm doing it for me, because I like what I do. Because I like the creative process and seeing how far can I push my skills.

So keep that in mind if you're struggling with mental-health and trying to beat bullshit algorithms. It's not worth the stress, and that stress just steals energy from your creativity.

You're doing what you love for you and maybe a few others—not for likes, attentions, engagement or whatever fake internet points exist nowadays.

Remember: do it for you!

[loosingmoreletters]

Hi! Sorry to drop into your asks so soon again, but would you continue that SAO AU for me? Pretty pretty please?

I love your ficlets, thank you for writing!

oh, please feel very welcome in my asks! I'm sure happy to know someone loves my writing so much. And here you go! Let's look at baby wangxian.

Part 1 | 2

Wei Wuxian had yet to kill anyone in this death game, but the moment he could get his hands on Wen Chao, he’d wring his neck. He wouldn’t use his sword or any talismans, anything from his stats. Only his raw strength. He’d make him feel all the artificial pain until it burned.

His health bar wasn’t looking like he’d get a chance to confront Wen Chao, however.

It looked disappointingly like he was going to die in this boss fight. At least Jiang Cheng and the others had made it out. They could retry this fight after they’d gone a couple levels up. Wei Wuxian had no idea whether the level reset once they die, but if it didn’t, maybe he should empty out his storage, not that he had anything particularly useful in there.

“How are you, Lan Zhan?”

His companion sat as still as he had for the last hour. His health bar was only slightly better than Wei Wuxian’s, courtesy of Gusu’s stat boost the sect’s members got whenever they adhered to their rules or something, Wei Wuxian honestly didn’t know. Yunmeng came with a wicked weapons’ skill he’d abused nearly to the point of breaking game mechanics.

Maybe he should’ve gone with the Nie to get their berserker skill. That could’ve saved them, maybe.

“Lan Zhan,” Wie Wuxian called out again. “Are you done ignoring me yet?”

Lan Zhan exhaled. “I have not been ignoring you.”

Score!

Wei Wuxian grinned. “That’s what it looked like from here. So, you got a plan for how you want to spend your last hours?”

Lan Zhan’s face twitched only barely. You had to hand it to Wen Crop., they knew their shit. The neural transfer was near perfect.

“We will not die here.”

“We’re more than just a couple missions away from getting enough experience to fight the Xuanwu of Slaughter,” Wei Wuxian replied drily. “While I think Yunmeng’s motto is very encouraging, I’m not an idiot.”

No, they’d die here, in a plot irrelevant side-mission because fuck Wei Wuxian especially, apparently.

A whole year of this hell already and this was how Wei Wuxian would die, stuck in a terrible cave with a worse monster, without ever hugging his family close again. He wanted to cry, but the reaction wouldn’t do anything to fix his mental state.

“We can make up the lack of experience,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian blanked. “What?”

Lan Zhan looked into the direction of the Xuanwu of slaughter before nodding confidently. “Marriage.”

Usually, Wei Wuxian found Lan Zhan’s carefully curated sentences hilarious, but he wasn’t following. “What do you mean?”

“Marriage allows spouses to share a skill,” Lan Zhan elaborated and activated his menu, pulling guqin strings from his storage.

Yeah, Jiang Cheng knew that. The ability sounded better than it was however, because it essentially only allowed one partner to borrow a skill while the other had to go without—

Oh.

“My weapons’ proficiency,” Wei Wuxian said. “You want it to what? Enhance the strings?”

“I think with the boost, my chord assassination could do significant damage.”

It was absolutely insane. Wei Wuxian exceled and these types of games because he had great instinct and was pretty quick at his math. He could calculate in a split second how much damage he’d need to deal and running his numbers, he could only come to one conclusion.

“It won’t be enough,” Wei Wuxian said. “Not that alone.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, which wasn’t fair at all. Wei Wuxian enjoyed being a step ahead. “You can use my purification bonus.”

Right, that was what Gusu granted him. Pretty useful on nighthunts, even if slightly too defensive for Wei Wuxian’s tastes.

Still, laughter bubbled up his throat. “Sure, we can try that. Until death does us part, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan grimaced, as much as Lan Zhan deigned to show such an expression anyway, and sent the marriage request. The pop-up window looked like a joke, all hearts and cutesy bunnies kissing. It was a miracle that Lan Zhan had sent a request like that. Wei Wuxian shuddered to think what the other marriage request pop up windows looked like if Lan Zhan chose that one.

“You can’t divorce me after this,” Wei Wuxian said. “We’d end up with a month-long penalty.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Yes?”

“Accept the request.”

[zenyteehee]

They say it takes 40 days to break a habit. Yesterday, I hit 40 days sober.

Part of me still hates it. Part of me is counting down the days until my drug test (that I don’t actually have scheduled yet, but it’ll be somewhere in February). I’ve realized over the past week that if I can fix my issues with sleep, fuck with my psych meds a bit, that it wouldn’t be nearly as hard to be sober…if I had a better work/life balance. I like my work. I like my life. My baseline mood is actually pretty good. It’s just that I work around 60 hours a week right now, and beginning February 12th, I will work 70-80 hours per week for 6 weeks straight (anybody’s guess if I will get any meaningful days off), and there is not a goddamn thing I can do about that. I am already pretty burned out as it is, and it is already hard enough to do hobbies at 60 hours —the things keeping me sober and my mental health more or less tolerable— so all bets are gonna be off with 70-80hrs/week. Never mind that when you’re looking a disease in the face that only responds to your treatment when it wants to and may one day decide to kill you just for shits and giggles, sometimes making everything about a flare —from the symptoms to the mental stress— just go the fuck away really is harm reduction.

But, part of me is really, really proud that I’m now 41 days sober. On days when I’m not consumed by work and school (and fighting off a whole ass breakdown cuz the stress while sober is unreal), I’m so much more present in my life. My mind feels sharper. I look in the mirror and I recognize myself. I don’t want to be so emotionally dependent on a substance like I was before December 17th. Feeling like I had to get baked or I was gonna have a bad night. Because at the end, it really didn’t help. But like I said…all bets are gonna be off come 80hr work weeks and concomitant minimal sleep, none of which is under my control, because any help there is better than burning out even more. Because if I burn out much more, I feel like I’ll lose the drive to establish a healthy relationship with substances.

I think the long term solution is gonna be many-fold. I can’t fix everything I need to right now. So the short term solution is gonna be harm reduction, fix what I can, some of the major drives (ie sleep) to use irresponsibly. Keep looking for other things I can remedy. Reestablish as healthy a relationship with weed as I can manage if and when I do resume it. Idk.

For now, at least, I’ve got 41 days sober.

[system-of-a-feather]

Man, okay so shits going in the right direction and all and we are getting better but GOD was this week so far so so so so so god awful mental health wise. Huge L week fr fr, but in stereotypical Riku fashion, a list of silver linings to it all to give myself some closure on this stupid week as it starts to get better

While this is easily the worst we've felt in a year or so, it is also the worst we've felt in A YEAR OR SO and we are - all things considered - relatively fine.

Exhausted, spent, low on spoons, vaguely fragile and kinda unstable, tired, dissociated, but we are very much coping and handling it and making it through. Even the worst part of this week would have been considered a "good" week a few years ago, so while this is the worst we've felt in a year or so **THIS** being the worst and "wrecking us" this bad is a testament to now much we've healed.

It hard reset out worsening negativity and apathetic nature to our work (as we were just happy to have something ELSE to keep us busy with) which, if we can keep it up, should get us through the next few months until we hopefully hear back from one of the places we applied to and/or get progress and feedback on our PhD and thus the burn out / emotional burn out from work will be much more negligible.

That shit was getting pretty bad so thank god. Shit was getting miserable.

We're still making progress with getting top surgery, difficulties in place or not, it is still progress.

And progress is progress, small or not, every step in a marathon counts to the goal. We also have an appointment for a second opinion in place.

We ARE given motivation to get back get back to actually moderating our eating to the standards we'd prefer.

We've been meaning to as it is healthier, makes us feel healthier, has us cooking more which is good for us mentally, and often is cheaper but we've been returning to being lax on it due to us tapping out due to general stress. Additionally, our medical team is actually looking into testing oral medications for weight loss which we can humor and see which might be nice in the case we just have a medical issue here

Was forced to address that I need support with my fiance who - partially on my own fault - has been rather codependent and neglectful to our emotional needs as he's been struggling.

Which in turn made us actually bring shit out in the open and have a productive conversation about boundaries and our individual needs and limitations as well as better ways to support eachother which was REALLY needed in hindsight as we had basically fallen into our old counterdependent ways which we swore off of years ago.

Was able to validate that we have a support network that we can rely on now and that they'd do their best to support us even if we are acting VERY frightening and stressful

Cause XIV was thinking of hospitalizing himself because of how he genuinely was thinking and feeling and I know for a fact three different people were aware of how serious he was considering it because they told us later and we're like "haha... yeah" (but actually with more than just that obv, just that I aint posting the details on that conversation to the public)

Found out a funny thing, cause I think when we are REALLY stressed we also kind of fall into Fei at this point too .

Just a fun note of our healing direction cause Fei apparently is both the "I'm stressed" and "Im at blissful peace" mode which is interesting to say the least.

This week has been fucking HELL but hey, it's been a productive and effective hell.

[underleveledjosh]

I'm pretty sure most communist communities are cults or at least cult like because when I left communism, most people who I thought were friends/to be trusted flamed me and attempted to mass harass me. This was on my old main Twitter that is now suspended, by the way. The majority of commies aren't in it for what they say they're in it for. They're in it for the clout. One of my ex-friends from when I was a commie basically told me that the fact that I want to start my own business someday is immoral. That's the thing: most communists hate successful people because Communism preys on the unsuccessful. They don't care if you are in a marginalized minority group and are running a small local business that donates a portion of profits to charity. They'll still burn your business to the ground because they think all for-profit organizations are evil when they really aren't.

They also assume all business owners and managers are evil/don't do any work themselves when it actually takes a fuck ton of work to start a business and keep it going. It's like they assume that if you aren't in the production line or behind the counter, your job takes no skill. Owning a business actually takes a lot of management and people skills (which most communists also seem to lack).

And if you say this to them, they will accuse you of falling for Capitalist propaganda or some shit. Oh, and not to mention the fact that they think switching to communism will help solve all opression. As a queer Neurodivergent person, I heavily disagree now. A change in economic system will not change people's attitudes. Hell, it's entirely possible that it might make it harder. When I pointed all of these things out, I was harassed and people I thought I could trust stabbed me in the back. Some people even accused me of sucking up to my oppressors just because I decided to no longer be a communist (which I justifiably saw as queerphobic and ableist). Also, Communism heavily and excessively relies on doomerism. This is intentional, too. People who have a lot of anxiety are highly vulnerable to doomerism. This makes these types of people get trapped in, but their mental health also gets worse due to all of the negative information they see on a daily basis. My mental health actually started getting better after I stopped being a communist. It really improved my mood, and I think it's one of the reasons why my depression and anxiety is much more tame now.

In conclusion: communism is a cult. I suggest you stay away from it. If you are a communist, I suggest you get out of it immediately. You never know who is just waiting for you to screw up even slightly so that they think they have an excuse to harass you.

[mewtonian-physics]

@hylasregilla sounds like a deal to me! the whole character ask with raikov... let's go

1. My first impression of them

'oh god, why? i hate this. why does this have to be a thing'

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

suckered myself into liking him april 1 2022. the real april fool was me

3. A song that reminds me of them

hmm. last time i got this particular question i said bubblegum bitch. this time i'll give you the first song on the raikov playlist

4. How many people I ship them with

just ooooooone

5. My favorite ship of them

raikov/the guy @setphies and i made up just so he could finally have a good relationship 2kforever

6. My least favorite ship of them

[points at volgin]

7. A quote of them that you remember

from mgs3? i think about 'do your job' a lot. from other metal gear content? 'regretful'. and if it's about lines i wrote myself, i'm quite fond of 'eat from the tree of knowledge, and pay better attention next time'.

8. Your favorite outfit of them

well in canon he only has two outfits, so... uniform, duh

9. Your least favorite outfit of them

that'd be the non-outfit [grimaces]

10. Describe the character in one sentence

'a lot more complex than official canon would have you think.'

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

eva theory of course!

12. Sexuality hc!

highkey fucking gay of course. but also ace. he likes men but sex itself isn't something he's really interested in. (he's also sex-repulsed due to trauma but without that it'd just be 'whatever' to him.)

13. Your favorite friendship they have

him and ocelot naturally

14. Best storyline they had

the one i came up with myself

15. Worst storyline they had

official canon

16. A childhood headcanon

he doesn't actually know his own real name. he picked out 'ivan' himself as a child because he hoped it would bring him luck

17. What do you think their first word was?

'cold'

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

as said previously, he was very survival-oriented and had very few limitations on what he'd do to stay alive. would as soon steal from you as talk to you. still pretty manipulative and he had fun doing it. who'd have thought someone who looked so innocent would rob you blind in a heartbeat? well. he would

19. The most random ship you've seen people have with them

i try not to pay attention to ships with him <3 but i've seen him and ocelot which just feels weird to me

20. A weird headcanon

i think a lot of people in this fandom would consider all of my headcanons about him weird. especially the one where i think he hates volgin with a burning passion. sucks to be them and not get it.

21. When do you think they were at their happiest?

not at any point during canon, that's for sure

22. When do you think they were at their lowest?

that'd be immediately post-mgsv ('but he wasn't in mgsv' shut up i don't care)

23. Future headcanon

that man is going to settle down and find a very normal and average and kind person who treats him like he deserves. and they will have a cat. and he will be genuinely happy for the first time in longer than he can remember

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

he's a spy lol the amount of secrets he has are insane. but i think he's always going to be very secretive about the exact details of his work. he really doesn't want to talk about them.

25. When do you think they acted the most ooc

when kojima writes him

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

when i write him

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

mello deathnote i think he should meet mello deathnote

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

all the self-destructive shit he did because he had serious mental health issues and didn't realize it was okay for him to just not do that

29. How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

spy x family but worse

30. The funniest scene they had?

nothing i didn't write myself

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi, I'd like to ask for a match-up if you don't mind. This might be fairly lengthy or idk sorry about that. I use she/her and I think I'm pan although I would much rather not use labels for something as fluid as sexuality. My love languages are quality time and acts if service.

I've been told that I seem unapproachable to those who dont know me, which is understandable since I'm reserved around others most of the time. However, that's not the case at all with my close friends. I'm far more relaxed and expressive around them.

I'd say I have very low self esteem and find nothing to like about myself so I rely heavily on external validation, but only from people who mean somethingto me. I fear being perceived in a way i don't want by them so that sometimes leads to me being insincere with them at the start of relationships.

This will be a cliche but I've had my gifted kid burnout lol. It lead me to have a horrific work ethic like even right now I'm procrastinating on revising for an exam lmao. As for my grades they vary according to how much the subject interests me. Like I score really well on subjects like Math, English and psychology but in subjects like chemistry and physics, they're insanely unpredictable depending on if I liked that topic or not (anywhere from 40-100[which is sad tbh wish I was more consistent💀 also idk the us grade equivalent]) so I'd say interest plays a really important role in my actions.

That being said I gain and lose interest in stuff pretty quickly so it is really hard to talk about hobbies or likes and dislikes lmao. But a general trend that I've noticed is I unironically like pretentious shit lol. Psychology, law, philosophy and literature interest me very much. Other than that I've recently been getting into astrology bc of a friend and it's kinda fun?? Lol. Oh and for what it's worth I'm a Capricorn sun and moon and Virgo rising.

I also really like writing and have a collection of poems, some of which are embarrassingly edgy but in my defence I wrote them while having an emo phase back in middle school. But I still enjoy writing poetry and other short pieces. I also like singing and I think I'm slightly above mid at it idk. Other than that I like spending time with people who don't drain me on good days.

I tend to mess up a lot in relationships bc idk I somehow end up convincing myself I'm not worthy of them so I self sabotage a lot. Idk if this is relevant but I struggle a lot with mental health but I sought help this year so slay. I can also get pretty obsessive over them due to my pretty bad mental health. And uhhh like idk but if those feelings are not returned it just crashes and burns lmao like I end up hating them, which is honestly awful on my part, but I have to hate them too get over them. But eventually that hatred fizzles out into indifference but idk.

But uh sad stuff aside, I love passionately lmao. Like I spoil the fuck out of my friends and people I love. Handmade gifts, surprise trips, playlists or idk, just lying on the bed vibing in silence I just like hanging around with them. I make all of their problems mine and don't stop until I make them go away completely, or if I can't, I feel guilty about it. I'd say I like helping people. I want to be a therapist because I want to help people feel better or at least let them have some semblance of peace. Seeing that my efforts have made someone feel better makes me inexplicably happy.

And after all that would looks matter lol idk. But like it's safe to say that I'm conventionally ugly lmao. But I don't really mind it. I've made peace with it.

Ok that was genuinely long so sorry about that ahaha. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and have a great day!

I match you with...

Jumin.

You're the kind of person that is hyper-vigilant about everything that you do. No matter how you came to be this way, it's something that you're aware of and you have a hard time turning off. You are aware that actions have consequences and decisions can do things to other people. One of the things about being an empathetic person is you are constantly checking yourself. It means that you're a good person who always tries their best, but it also means that you wind up limiting yourself in other ways because while you try to emotionally regulate others, you forget to emotionally regulate yourself.

In that case, you need somebody in your life who knows how to remind you that you come first. It's important to help other people but don't take off all of your clothes in a blizzard to protect somebody else and leave yourself with nothing. So having somebody in your life that knows how to take care of other people is important. It makes you a powerful duo in your own right when you're having a good day, but it also keeps the two of you in check when you need a reminder that you need to be taken care of. Jumin is your man for that reason. He can be there for you and you can be there for him.

You’re passionate, too. You like to create with your hands and that leads to you sitting around with Jumin as you work, and he chuckles in approval, working on his projects at the same time. He loves to watch you make something out of the tools you have! It inspires him to focus harder on the hobbies he has. It’s meant to be methodical... but you remind him that it’s a creative endeavor, too. A labor of love molded by your hands. You inspire your lover every day just by being the person that you are. Love is strong and true, and you never have to be afraid of looking over at him and not seeing the same love-filled eyes. It’s always there in his heart.

[basementrambles]

Still Chugging Along

I've officially reaping the consequences of my inability to do work. Of course this was like at 10:00 PM last night, when it's pretty much morning in South Africa, for those that followed up about how their needs were not being met for months/last-minute communications. I just wished my motivation worked as demanded. That because I simply NEED to, I can muster enough motivation to just get it done. I think about how I could be in an even more terrible job, that I am lucky to work with decent people as supervisors and that if I was on the other end of the delinquent tasks, I'd be just as mad/frustrated as they are in their shoes. Without this job at its current salary, I can't fund ANYTHING that I ACTUALLY enjoy if I don't STAY employed. I just don't understand why I'm struggling the way that I am now. After the psychiatric intake visit, I've been feeling insecure about whether or not I have ADHD and that the cause of my unproductivity is even simpler - burnout. They keep saying the solution to burnout is to rest and take a break from what's causing the distress, but like, does anyone really have the time? At minimal, I've gone ahead and finally submitted the temp. request for more help. That's on majority of lists, to get more help if you're burning out from the sheer overwhelm of the workload. I've been in and out of crying today after trying to fix the work problems of late last night, and maybe I just need to cry it out while working. At this point, I really have no choice, the things must get done. The things MUST get done. THE THINGS MUST GET DONE. Maybe I should reframe? I get to do okay work with people that I don't hate. That I get to NOT work in an environment where I felt bullied by a colleague and demeaned. That I get another day, another hour, another opportunity to do my best, that I get to give grace to myself that all I can put in is my best. That the mistakes I've committed means it's over, and that although I can't undo it, I get to have another opportunity to redeem myself and try again to fix it. It's absolutely frustrating to simultaneously understand the really great spot that I am at, and STILL hate it. That I can't bring myself to find ANY motivation to get me to get shit done. Self-esteem really has taken a hit because of it, I guess more so than usual BECAUSE I see the work falling apart under my hands. I really dream of simpler jobs, things that just don't make me feel I'm incapable as I do now. Would I be able to handle the massively lower pay? I don't know, but somehow, I do glorify the idea that at least, my mental health wouldn't be as fragile and broken as it is now in jobs that are simpler than what I'm currently doing. I don't know if writing about it helps, but figured I should try and put it in paper, and think about what I could be doing differently maybe that could help me for the better?