#beneficiation techniques

[townpostin]

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[river-in-the-woods]

A meditation for devouring impurities

This is a visualisation exercise that I have used many times during depressive moods, to great effect. I have found it simple yet profound, and after prolonged practice it has provided me with nigh immediate relief. It is quite visceral in its imagery. Feel free to use it as an addition, not a substitution, for any medical treatment you need. May it serve.

Note: I am using the concept of pure and impure in the totally arbitrary and non-discriminatory sense of, containing only what we wish to contain.

– – –

Begin by visualising a dark, vast space. This represents the inner depths of your mind, so far down as to nearly touch your subconscious, but it is just within the reach of your waking mind.

Then, see your heart floating in the middle of that dark space. Understand that this is your heart, both the physical and mental form of it.

At this stage, I often see a real, anatomical beating heart. If you prefer, see it instead as a crystal or something else, so long as it feels tangible.

Think of the 'impurities' that trouble you. Sorrow, anger, pain, guilt, grief, envy, confusion... Whatever it might be.

At this depth of one's mind, these things take a form that can be felt and touched. They have weight and texture.

Very often I will simply see them as a sort of thick, black, slimy tar that coats my heart in thick layers.

Spend as long as you need to really feel the presence of these things. We are giving them form, so that we can interact with them. What is given form can be transformed.

Now, think of the stars in the night sky. We are working with the concept that stars and starlight is – spiritually and symbolically – the purest substance in existence. For light is fire that penetrates through all space, and it is pure because it contains only itself, and transforms all things into its likeness (light makes other things lighter).

Think of how, in a way, light pierces through darkness and “creates” more light, or the way fire consumes things to create more fire. It simultaneously devours and self-perpetuates. Starlight is then, symbolically containing both the powers of piercing and burning, while self-perpetuating and remaining true to itself.

See the stars descend and take the forms of fierce beasts. Most often I think of wolves. They shine bright and stark against the darkness. They are simultaneously bestial but pure, an ennobled form of the atavistic and animalistic powers.

They crowd around your heart and begin to rip and tear off the black tar, snapping up enormous morsels of it, sharing it amongst themselves in a feeding frenzy. Because the star-beasts are made of pure substance, the impurities cannot withstand their light, and are completely burned away to stardust inside their stomachs.

Spend a good long time on this part. Really feel the weight of the heavy substance being pulled off of your heart, consumed and totally disintegrated.

Finally, after all the tar is gone, the star-beasts lick up the last pieces. Then they dissolve into your heart, filling up any wounds or cracks that were revealed during the feeding.

Since they are made of light and are completely pure and malleable, they simply become whatever part of you they need to be. They fortify and strengthen, heal and soothe. They vitalise you without needing anything in return, because the nature of stars is to shine regardless.

[randomidiocyncrazies]

Help I'm being held hostage by fem!Nie Mingjue AU

[bitterfucked]

I disagree with the statement that anthropomorphic = furry, and I think it does a disservice to furries to try to essentially claim anthropomorphism as a whole for them. Furry is both a subculture and an artistic movement, and to try to lay claim to all anthropomorphism very much muddies the intentionality of people engaging with the artistic movement. It's also, frankly, a slippery slope from anthropomorphic = furry to straight up racist statements like spirit animal = fursona, which is something I've seen people do.

I think it *is* important to recognize when an art piece is in dialogue with furries as an art movement, as the above fursuit clearly is. Like the above poster says, they use techniques popularized by fursuiters instead of the techniques used in mascot costuming. Short of the artist coming out and saying that this isn't supposed to be furry art (technique doesn't necessarily mean style), it's also almost definitely more useful to just call the cat a fursuit because it legitimizes and recognizes the fact that furries have collectively advanced the medium of costuming in specific ways.

But something like Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit isn't furry art because it is not in dialogue with furries as an artistic movement. It isn't coming from the same place with how anthropomorphism is interpreted. Despite being around for 70 years longer than Disney's Robin Hood, it's almost never listed as an inspiring piece of media for the furry movement. The vast majority* of furry artists do not pull from it stylistically. To say it is fur art is to ignore the work that is ongoing within the artistic movement.

Likewise, to say something like it's not all Disney's Robin Hood as a way to distance from the "cringier" parts of furrydom is, at best, ignorant of how an artistic movement works. You are almost always in dialogue with the major currents of your artistic movement and eschewing them is still being in dialogue - even if the question is as simple as how far can you go from the cartoony elements and still be considered "furry".

Muddying the intentionality and vision of your art for the sake of "normalization" is a bad place to be, and does no favors to anyone.

*To cut off "Um, Actually, This Artist" criticism, in terms of describing an artistic movement, unfortunately, it is majority rule. I can't pick out a band like World Inferno Friendship Society and say that swing and big band are massively influential genres on punk music, and you can't do a similar thing for furry art.

[onefite]

Building Confidence Through Mindset Shifting

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[rajkhateek]

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn���t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[gradient-of-aster]

Yeah, the technique the instructor wants is gold, but the phrasing in this question is hot garbage. You have to name the technique, and then ask the kids to demonstrate the technique if that's what you're looking for. 8 and 5 'making 10'? Garbage. I worked at a tutoring center where this was the technique used, and let me just say that mentally rearranging the sum is absolutely a superior technique. You don't have to count up on your fingers when you get something tricky like 7 + 4. You just break it up in your head like 7+3...+1, and you're done. This doesn't come naturally to a lot of folks! Like, I didn't have problems adding 7 and 4, but a lot of kids do. I didn't have problems, but I'm personally MUCH faster now, having learned and practiced this technique. It makes me look like a wizard in front of my students. It also gives you a better feel for the numbers and what you're doing, and taking the time to teach this method is a great idea. ... teaching the method and then asking garbage questions like 'how does 8 +5 make 10' is TRASH though, and makes everyone want to pile on this perfectly valid and helpful technique because someone decided "show how to make 10 with 8+5" was the best way to see if the kids knew what they were doing, instead of calling the technique '10 friends' or something and saying "use '10 friends' to show how to add 8+5".

THIS is why the Board of Education needs to be shutdown, RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[milkoomi]

how to study effectively. ᥫ᭡

sometimes we get caught up in trying to memorize all the material rather than study and learn the material. we also may come to realize that the way we currently “study” isn’t actually studying at all. i’ve fallen into this way of studying, but i’ve learned some really helpful tips and tricks to make sure that i actually learn and understand the material and get it to stick rather than memorize it just to forget everything later.

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — incorporate study methods

there’s a variety of different study methods that have been proven to truly help students learn the material and have productive study sessions.

some study methods:

active recall - retrieving information from your memory

some active recall techniques include…

practice tests/questions

flashcards

summary sheets

teaching others/Feynman Technique (more on this later)

take notes with questions related to the topics

whiteboard recall: write down what it is that you’re learning on a whiteboard while using as little words as possible; summarizing

record yourself explaining the material & listen back to it, be sure to make note of what you missed in your recording

blurting method (more on this later)

eat the frog - completing the most difficult task first

how to eat the frog…

start by identifying your most difficult task. whether it’s a chapter you’re struggling with the most or an assignment that might take you longer to complete.

finish that hardest task first. focus on it, understand it, complete it, and get it out of the way before reviewing any other chapters/topics.

make sure you have a full grasp on whatever it is that you’re studying before moving onto something easier!

pomodoro method - working for a set amount of take & taking breaks in increments

25 minutes of working/studying , 5 minute break

50 minutes of working/studying , 10 minute break

set timers for both the time you study & the time you take a break!

the two options i provided don’t have to be what you decide to do! choose whatever time limits you want and will work best for you!

feynman technique - teaching others the material

how it works…

start by choosing what material you want to teach to someone else (that ‘someone else’ doesn’t have to be a real person! honestly, if my cats were all sitting somewhere or near me, i’d pretend my cats were my ‘students’!)

without reviewing your notes and going based off your memory, begin your “lecture”

fill in any gaps in your memory by going back to your notes and make note of what you’re struggling to recall/teach so that you can review it again later

remember to keep your “lectures”/explanations simple! as a medical student myself, i try to stay away from using medical terminology so that my “students” can also understand. reteaching the material in layman’s terms will also help you better understand the material!

blurting method - an active recall technique

how it works…

start by reading through your notes, textbook/lecture slides, etc. & try to remember all that you’ve read

once you feel like you’ve got all the information in your head (or as much as you can! don’t feel like you have to memorize it all!) close your notes, textbooks, lecture slides, etc.

on a separate sheet of paper or a whiteboard or anything that you can write on, write down everything you remember from what you just read and reviewed

after, review what you blurted out onto that separate sheet of paper and reopen your notes/textbook/etc. & see what you might have missed and note what it is that you still need to work on

୨ৎ — work in a beneficial environment

they key point here is that where you decide to study needs to be beneficial for you. meaning that your environment needs to be an area where you feel like you can study and work at your full potential. if you need a quiet place, maybe you might want to go to a library. if you need a brighter study environment, maybe you need to open up your curtains & blinds to let sunlight in or you need significant overhead lighting. if you need something more calming in your environment, maybe you might want to have soft and calming background music playing and maybe a nicely scented candle lit with dimmed lights.

figure out what it is that you need to study productively without any distractions and without the feeling of discomfort. your study space should allow you to focus completely!

୨ৎ — study groups

study groups are extremely helpful! i’m usually one who wishes to work independently, but recently i’ve been connecting with my classmates to form study groups and have a session together! i’ve found it to be extremely beneficial and i thank the study groups i’ve been in for my success during the semester!

you don’t have to work in a big group! most times i worked with 1-2 other people, and that was enough for me! study groups allow you to share your own study techniques with others while also learning some new strategies yourself. it also helps to have someone who’s also learning the same material so that you guys can quiz each other or incorporate that teaching method with one another. also, having others there to study with might also give you some more insight on different topics! you might be struggling with one topic, but whoever you’re studying with might be close to mastering it and vice versa! as a group, you can review and share notes and helpful tips & tricks!

୨ৎ — other resources

i want to share a few posts that i, and others, have created that i feel might help with studying effectively!

my posts:

stop procrastinating: school edition

this post is pretty self-explanatory from the title, but i just go over a few things that help to get rid of that procrastination habit!

coming out of academic burn out

i feel like this is an important post to mention because studying can cause a lot of stress and lead to burn out! i highly recommend reading this to help prevent that from happening for you!

my personal study methods

i posted this earlier this month, and while i believe my study methods will be changing for my incoming spring semester, i feel like this would still be helpful to look at! it might give you some insight on how others might study and their successes with their methods!

other bloggers’ posts:

posts by @glowettee —

preparing for next semester series

one of my wonderful mutuals, mindy, has created a series on preparing for a new semester! it’s a great series filled with really great information from school supply guides to note taking secrets! definitely recommend this series for those who are still preparing for the new semester!

executing your comeback plan

this is a post from another one of mindy’s amazing series about getting yourself back up from a bad grade (because that does happen, and god this series was so helpful and reassuring!) this post that i linked specifically talks about getting back into the grind and provides really helpful tips!

posts by @glowup-princess —

how to study like hermione granger

i’m personally a huge Harry Potter fan, so this one caught my eye when i saw it on my dashboard (and honestly, i’ve always admired hermione for her educational prowess) so if you need something inspiring, then this is it! lila’s also got other posts similar to this one on her page inspired by other iconic it-girls in the academic world!

how to romanticize study

we all want to romanticize our lives in one way or another, and so why not start by romanticizing your studies? this is a great post with helpful tips on how to do so!

youtube videos/podcasts:

how to study effectively - The Zach Highley Show

study tips that got me through pre-med, mcat, and phd in immunology - GinnythePoooh

become a top 1% student - StudyToSuccess

୨ৎ — final notes

this is one of my lengthier posts, and if you read through it all: 1. thank you so very much for reading! i really appreciate it! and 2. i hope this helps you in your studies! i know we all want to be the best students we can be and receive high grades and achieve great things in our academic careers. it’s important to stay motivated and to have confidence in yourself! you will succeed in your schooling, i just hope you remember to believe that for yourself!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

[dewdrop-collective]

I think a big part of the reason that I went from anti-endo to endo-safe was absolutely due to how starkly different the communities felt.

Anti-endo communities were hard to engage with. Sure, some of them would focus on their support for each other more than their hatred of endogenic systems. And that's great! However, when you are brought together by your dislike of a certain group, you can't help but feel the hate permiate into so much of it. It always happened eventually. Anti-endo communities had such a focus on systems who were "fake" that I couldn't help but worry I was one of them, no matter how much they told me it was "just endos" they were concerned about.

The endo community (at least the parts I've engaged with and were easy to find) were so kind and respected me as a system, no matter how I felt or my plurality presented. Simply knowing we could find joy in our plurality allowed us to strive for so much more than we had thought possible before.

As a traumagenic system, we've improved so much with our symptoms and communication as a result of the positivity and acceptance we recieved. When we joined communities where we could be authenticallly ourselves (no matter what), we came together and faced so much less conflict between each other. And the conficts we did have, we realized that we could solve them together rather than alone.

When you are constantly doubting if you are "actually a system", you start to push the others away, and that made our dissociation and amnesia so much worse. I understand being careful of self-misdiangnosis, it can put you on the wrong path for how you learn to manage your symptoms. At the same time, the sentiment I often heard from endogenic systems when I was struggling with doubt and denial was very simple: "So what if you're not a system?" In short, it was okay to be wrong.

And that was huge for me. I realized that, no matter if I was a system or not, the techniques I used to improve ourselves and communicate with one another beneficial to me. At the end of the day, even if I wasn't a system after all, the skills I had found we invaluble to my health and well-being. So when I fall into denial spirals, no matter what I think about myself, I now know that I don't need to deprive myself of what has helped me, even if it is a "system thing." I don't feel scared to use these skills anymore (even in denial spirals), beacuse the line between what systems and non-systems or singlets can/can't do suddenly wasn't a big deal or a battle of "who can do what."

Our plurality is no longer a burden or a scar to us. It is simply who we are. We've learned so much about each other and ourselves since we've been accepted in full, and since we've learned to accept others. Endogenic communities have helped us (a traumagenic system) probably more than they'll ever know, and we're forever grateful for that.

So thank you, endogenic systems.

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader. 

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars.

Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

Updates:

- Confirmation that he’s educated! Perhaps in military or just as a whole, but confirmation nonetheless!

- I realize the reason he’s so confident with Big Mom isn’t just guts; he’s fought for royalty before. He’s just back in the fucking building again /j

- Sabaody behaviors, a convoy leader

CHECK REBLOG FOR PART TWO!!

[ PLEASE ^^ It contains the rest of his information! ]

[poofroom]

Here are some painting tips, as promised. I hope they will help beginner artists!

Composition

Position of characters on the sheet

Choose the location of your character to be beneficial to the appearance of the art in general, you can accentuate the important places where the viewer should look first by using perspective and composition.

Tone sketch

Set the lights based on references, but adjust to your own, favourable lighting.

Contrasts come in many forms. Contrast in color (warm and cold), values (dark and light), shapes soft and hard, straight and curve, etc.

Less is better. Work on the details of the most important part of your work while cutting down everything else. If you do strong detail in one place, don't forget to add looser detail in another so the viewer's eye can rest. For example: If you are detailing a portrait, don't detail the background as much. Next to a place of high detail, there should be a place of low detail so that the picture does not look overloaded.

All in all, you can twist and break perspective, anatomy and shapes to convey your idea better. No rules are made of steel, they should support your imagination, not restrict it

Anatomy

Break down objects into simple shapes to arrange them in space.

Check references! plasticity comes first, then structure (muscles are important, but proportions and line of movement come first).

Take a photo of yourself, you will be able to understand how to perform your pose naturally. Color/light.

Light is part of the composition, put it in a way that highlights the important things. Air perspective

General rules of composition. From the general to the particular, first prepare the general scene, correctly place contrasts and accents, make everything important in contrast, and take the unimportant into an aerial perspective. (aerial perspective, or atmospheric perspective, refers to the technique of creating an illusion of depth by depicting distant objects as paler, less detailed, and usually bluer than near objects.)

When all the points are ready we can start working out the details.

When all the details are finished again it's back to the overall picture, looking at it from a distance. Check if the accents you wanted to draw attention to are working. They should have the highest contrast. Check if the contrast is not created by objects on the edges, where you don't want the viewer to pay attention. For example, if you are painting a portrait then the focus should be on the face and not on the details of the clothes or details in the background. (You can always convert the image to black and white and check the contrast)

Save the stages of your work to check against the initial idea and see what things have changed for better or worse!

[chronicallycouchbound]

PSA: Please don’t ask participants to do grounding/mindful/somatic/etc practices at your events

Grounding exercises should not be an activity in large group settings, especially unsolicited and without warning, especially if you’re not aware of every single person in the space’s mental health conditions, physical health conditions, and personal relationship to their body.

Practices such as mindfulness, grounding, somatic exercises, breathing techniques, body scans, etc. are very helpful therapeutic tools to help manage stress. They can (and do!) help plenty of people– when taught safely and used effectively!

HOWEVER for people with conditions that cause psychosis and/or dissociative conditions such as depersonalization/derealization, these techniques are contraindicated and can make their symptoms significantly worse. They should only be used with guidance from their mental health team and adapted to their needs. For people with conditions like anxiety and PTSD, being aware of breathing can trigger a trauma response or anxiety attacks.

And for people with conditions that cause chronic pain or other uncomfortable bodily sensations, becoming re-centered with their bodies can cause more awareness of the pain they are in, which a level of (ideally functional) dissociation is actually helpful. For people in wheelchairs and powerchairs, touching the ground beneath their feet isn’t always an option. For people with cardiac and pulmonary conditions, deep breathing can be impossible or can trigger asthma attacks. For disabled people in general, doing body scans can be impossible due to paralysis or limb differences. They can bring awareness to things the person wasn’t aware were wrong to begin with (which is helpful in certain spaces, but not a great ice breaker at a retreat!)

And for trans people, binders and other garments can restrict breathing, and taking repeated deep breaths while binding can cause rib damage (which is why you shouldn't bind at night, while coughing from sickness, while exercising, etc). Becoming centered in a body that makes you dysphoric can be deeply distressing, again, a level of functional dissociation helps.

This also goes for plenty of other people in marginalized bodies, such as people of color, people who use substances, queer people, and more. Becoming grounded in your own marginalized body can be a heavy weight to carry, and needs appropriate and individualized care to be a beneficial experience.

As an alternative, I suggest doing a round of gratitudes instead, it allows for people to choose their level of vulnerability in spaces, while not being generally contraindicated for many people. Doing fun (and appropriate to the setting) icebreakers are great. Ask what brings someone to the space. Check-ins about basic needs such as if people need to use the restroom, eat, drink water, are rested, etc. can be more appropriate body check-ins for folks to do.

I don’t recommend doing these exercises even with a warning beforehand. If I'm in the room while someone is leading a breathing exercise, even if I try to ignore it, I (and most people) would automatically become aware of my breathing. The same goes for any other techniques. These techniques can cause real, life-threatening levels of harm for some people, and can even just be deeply uncomfortable or distressing for others. Dissociation is not inherently evil or bad or harmful. It is the way the body and mind naturally respond to adverse experiences (note: it can also cause distress and at higher levels, can be disordered) it is best to allow people to exist as they are in communal spaces. Let people show up as they are.

Most spaces are not equipped or appropriate to respond to emergencies, difficult feelings, and all the varied responses that can come from folks doing mindfulness in group settings.

I personally do some things before large gatherings and events to feel centered on the activity I’ll be doing, and afterward, I decompress. Encourage participants to lean on their natural supports and offer suggestions for it! Be creative in your caring!

This also doesn’t mean to discourage these practices! If you see someone doing deep breathing, check in with them, offer a space for them to decompress, care for them! Worksheets or posters on techniques like square breathing and 5 senses check-ins are great for a quiet room or spaces where participants can decide if they want/are able to engage with those tools. It should be a fully consensual opt-in, rather than being forced to opt-out. Having to leave a room when a group leader says “We’re going to start a mindful breathing meditation, please feel free to leave if you have psychosis, chronic pain, or are trans” is obviously othering and outs people.

Sincerely, someone who has psychotic symptoms, dissociation, chronic pain, is trans and whose body is marginalized in many ways and is really tired from trying to explain this at every event I go to

[etherealkissed88]

you are always embodying a version of you 🍭

“ive been feeling stuck for 2 years” -> embodying that state

“its not gonna manifest” -> embodying that state

“she still didnt text me back” -> embodying that state

when you assume its nothing is changing, you are simply embodying that version of you who believes that. you are always embodying a version of you out of the infinite versions of you that already exist.

there is no “original” state or “realer” state. even if the state is expressed in the imaginary 3d, it is not “realer” than any other state. we know the 3d is neutral and doesnt mean anything so giving value to something in the 3d makes no sense.

remember that you are the self that occupies states. these states mean nothing without you. states are useless bubbles without you embodying/occupying it. even when you embody them they are nothing bc you always assign meaning.

next time you feel like youre “stuck”, know its all just a state and theres nothing to be afraid of. states are below you, states need you, you (self) dont need states. you are beyond these “im stuck” states. there is no “struggle,” there is only states being embodied. you can simply embody another state (regardless of the 3d). be the desired version of you.

when you feel stuck:

know its only a state, you are always embodying a state (so theres nothing to be afraid of bc its just a state) and identify the state you are currently embodying that doesnt serve you

embody a different, better state via deciding or techniques + fulfill

its so simple. it seems harder because you think what the human self is experiencing in the 3d is the “real” thing when in reality, none of it is real (bc everything is neutral) and you choose what to experience and you are instantly any version if you that you choose.

the funny thing is that while you search for answers “outside” of you, the solution is literally the version of you you are embodying. you are the problem and solution. you see how you always have full control even when you dont realize it? something that helps me is: if i was this desired version of me, would i care about (blah blah)? that helps me embody a more beneficial state.

once you embody a version of you, its done. its already yours. creation is finished yes? remember how i said there are always infinite versions of you? exactly. you arent creating anything, you are only being. so once you become a version of you, everything changes and that is who you are. there is nothing else to do but know its done bc it is. stop falling into the “im stuck” loop and know that is only what youre embodying.

be sexy and change states 💋🍫

kisses, jani ☆

[dioslesbianwife]

Hey, don't know if you're still doing hxh, but could you do the PT (not necessarily with hisoka, but with illumi and kurapika) with a s/o whos like, very very pretty (like, boa hancock level) but very very affectionate (kinda obssessive) and loyal? If it's not too much to ask, I'd like their technique to be sum' alike to immortality, but like, elaboratin': the user got their core into a straw doll, wich mean their body can be hit in all ways but wont die unles the straw doll is destroyed. Thank you :)) 💗 have a very nice day/night. Sorry for askin too much!!!

hii yep i definitely do hxh, just usually get a lot more jojo reqs, so there's more space between the hxh ones lol. thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy (also have a good day to u too) <333

Chrollo Lucilfer:

Chrollo finds your loyalty both endearing and beneficial. He’s used to betrayal and deceit, so having someone who would die for him (but never actually die thanks to your ability) is fascinating.

Your constant affection, however, is a bit overwhelming at first. Chrollo isn’t used to someone being so devoted, but he finds it oddly comforting.

He’s highly intrigued by your immortality technique. You explained how your core was in the straw doll, and he spent hours examining it with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

Chrollo doesn’t mind your obsessive nature, as long as you remain useful and don’t compromise the Troupe’s goals. He’ll likely encourage your loyalty as long as it’s directed solely at him.

Sometimes, he’ll test your devotion by giving you dangerous tasks, knowing you’ll do anything to make him happy.

Pakunoda:

Pakunoda adores how affectionate you are, always giving you soft smiles when you cling to her. She might tease you for being so clingy, but it’s clear that she likes the attention.

Your loyalty gives her a sense of security. Knowing you’d follow her anywhere and do anything for her makes her feel valued.

When you explain your ability, she’s fascinated and a bit worried. She gently cups your face and reminds you to be careful with that doll, knowing it’s the only thing that can truly harm you.

If anyone in the Troupe questions your usefulness, Pakunoda is the first to defend you, highlighting your unwavering loyalty.

She’s not too bothered by your obsession since it’s directed at her. In fact, she kind of likes having someone so utterly devoted.

Nobunaga:

Nobunaga is smitten with your beauty and isn’t shy about pulling you into his lap or keeping you close. Your clinginess doesn’t bother him; he’s equally as possessive.

He enjoys showing you off to the others and isn’t afraid to get into a fight if someone dares insult you.

When you first explain your immortality ability, Nobunaga doesn’t quite believe it until he tests it (by accidentally slashing your arm in a spar). When you just smile and assure him you’re fine, he’s impressed.

He still worries about the straw doll, though. You’ll catch him keeping it on him sometimes, as if protecting it from potential threats.

He loves how you constantly dote on him, and he’ll always return the favor, not at all bothered by your obsessive devotion.

Shizuku:

Shizuku is mostly indifferent to your constant affection, but she doesn’t push you away. She’s more likely to just sit there as you cling to her, sometimes forgetting you’re even there.

Your obsession goes over her head, but she never complains. If anything, she’s just happy to have someone so loyal.

When you explain your ability, she nods, then promptly forgets. You’ll have to remind her several times that the doll is important.

She might accidentally vacuum up the doll once, and you’ll have to explain why your heart suddenly stopped.

Your affection and loyalty make her happy, even if she doesn’t always show it. She’s just glad to have you by her side.

Franklin:

Franklin is surprisingly gentle with you, despite your clinginess. He doesn’t mind you hanging off his arm or nuzzling into his side.

Your loyalty actually means a lot to him, especially because he’s seen how easily people can turn on each other.

When you explain your ability, he listens carefully and makes a mental note to keep the doll safe. He respects your resilience and your willingness to put yourself in danger.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him, but he’ll remind you to be mindful around the other members, just in case they don’t appreciate the same level of affection.

Franklin wouldn’t use your weakness against you, he’s more of a protector and would rather ensure your safety.

Machi:

Machi acts annoyed by your clinginess but secretly likes how affectionate you are. You’re probably the only one she lets hang on her without getting punched.

Your loyalty makes her feel a bit guilty sometimes, as she wonders if she deserves it.

She’s fascinated by your immortality ability but also worries about the straw doll’s safety. You’ll catch her sneaking glances at it from time to time.

If anyone threatens you, Machi is the first to take them out, no questions asked.

She’d never admit it, but your devotion makes her heart flutter.

Bonolenov:

Bonolenov is a bit perplexed by your obsession, but he doesn’t mind the attention. He might question why you’re so devoted, but your unwavering loyalty eventually wins him over.

He’s very intrigued by your ability, seeing it as almost mythological. 

Your clinginess doesn’t bother him too much; he just quietly accepts it, even if it’s unusual for him.

Bonolenov would make sure to keep the doll safe during combat, knowing it’s your weak point.

Your constant presence becomes a comforting part of his routine.

Kortopi:

Kortopi is shy and usually keeps to himself, so your affection can be overwhelming at first.

Once he gets used to it, he finds it oddly comforting, especially since you never seem to get tired of his quiet company.

He’s amazed by your immortality ability and might touch the doll curiously, trying to figure out how it works.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him; if anything, it’s nice to have someone who doesn’t shy away from his oddities.

He won’t actively protect the doll, but he’ll remember to keep it safe.

Phinks:

Phinks is a bit confused by how clingy you are at first, but he quickly becomes protective of you. He likes the idea of having someone so devoted to him.

Your constant affection makes him feel special, though he’ll grumble and act annoyed just to mess with you.

He’s impressed by your immortality ability, but he’s also wary of the straw doll. He keeps an eye on it, knowing how reckless you can be.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him at all. In fact, he kind of enjoys being the center of your world.

If anyone insults your loyalty or mocks your affection, Phinks will threaten to break their jaw.

Shalnark:

Shalnark finds your clinginess adorable and has no problem reciprocating. He’s happy to indulge your affectionate nature, even if it means letting you hang off him all the time.

Your loyalty makes him a little smug; he likes knowing you’re so attached.

Your immortality ability is super interesting to him. He’ll casually ask about the doll and how it works, but he’s respectful enough not to test its limits.

Shalnark would subtly use your obsession to his advantage, coaxing you into helping him with different things by playing on your loyalty.

If you’re ever feeling insecure, he’ll give you an extra dose of his usual charm to cheer you up.

Uvogin:

Uvogin adores how clingy and affectionate you are. He’s loud, brash, and unapologetic about showing off how much you love him.

Your obsession actually amuses him, and he’ll tease you about how you can’t get enough of him.

When you explain your immortality ability, he just laughs and says, “Good! That means I don’t have to hold back in a fight!”

He’s protective of the doll, though. If anyone tries to mess with it, Uvo will crush them without a second thought.

He’s oddly proud of having someone so pretty and devoted at his side and loves to brag about you to the other Troupe members.

Feitan:

Feitan doesn’t know how to handle your constant affection at first. He’s not used to being doted on, and it makes him a bit awkward.

He’ll pretend to be annoyed when you’re clingy, but if you try to pull away, he’ll grab your hand and refuse to let go.

Your immortality ability intrigues him, and he might give the doll a curious poke to see your reaction. He never means to hurt you, though, just testing.

Your obsession makes him secretly pleased. He won’t admit it, but he likes how devoted you are and might even become a bit possessive himself.

If anyone tries to harm the doll, Feitan will take it as a personal offense and deal with them swiftly.

Illumi Zoldyck:

Illumi is indifferent to your clinginess at first, but he grows to appreciate it. You’re almost like his loyal pet, devoted, affectionate, and always at his side.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him. In fact, it’s quite practical. He knows you won’t betray him, and that makes you valuable.

He’s fascinated by your immortality technique and might even test it himself just to see how resilient you are.

He’ll make sure the doll is secure, not because he’s protective but because he wants to ensure his possession (you) stays intact.

Illumi will use your obsession to his advantage, assigning you tasks knowing you’ll do anything for him.

Kurapika:

Kurapika is initially overwhelmed by your clinginess. He’s not used to someone being so affectionate and doesn’t quite know how to respond.

Your loyalty makes him feel conflicted, especially because he’s worried about losing someone close to him again.

When you explain your immortality ability, Kurapika is relieved but still cautious. He insists on keeping the doll safe, even if you assure him it’s fine.

Your obsession worries him a bit. He wants to make sure you’re not putting yourself in unnecessary danger for his sake.

Over time, he learns to relax around you, and your affection becomes something he genuinely looks forward to. He’ll never admit it, but he feels more at ease when you’re around.

[borderlinereminders]

Self-Soothing

Self-Soothing skills are mostly physical techniques that use different senses. This is one of the distress tolerance skills. Different things work for different people, but the goal is to use one (or more) of the five senses to give yourself a comfortable experience when you are feeling in distress.

(These are also really great ideas for grounding!)

Here are some examples to try, but don't hesitate to add your own!

Vision:

Go visit a place you love (a museum, aquarium, maybe the beach, or a trail/view point you love.)

Watch a slideshow of your favourite pictures

Look at an aesthetic collage/board you made

Light a candle and watch the flame flicker and the wax gradually melt.

Find a video you like like a wood stove burning, or maybe rain or snow falling.

Touch:

Use a stim toy that you enjoy that has an interesting texture (slime, soft things, etc).

Pet or cuddle your pet!

Hold a favourite blanket, or maybe a stuffed animal.

Take a warm bubble bath

Lay in the grass

Hearing:

Put on your favourite music

Use an auditory stim toy you enjoy (pop tubes, snapperz, etc.)

Listen to nature sounds

Listen to your pet snoring

Go to a park and listen to the sounds of children laughing and playing

Taste:

Have a nice cup of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, etc

Suck on a hard candy

Chew on gum

Eat one of your favourite snacks

Cook a favourite meal

Go grab a favourite drink from somewhere

Smell:

Light a scented candle and focus on the smell

Use incense

Use your favourite body spray/perfume

Go for a walk somewhere where you can smell something you enjoy like the ocean, or fresh baking at the bakery

Bake or cook something to smell it in the oven

Set up a new air freshener

We sometimes feel like we don't deserve these comforts, or it's hard for us to self-soothe on our own without someone to help us. You absolutely deserve these comforts, and while it's valid to get help from others, being able to work on self-soothing for ourselves can be really beneficial to us and our relationships. I made a deal with myself that I will try self-soothing first and then reach out for help if needed after I make a solid effort on my own. The comfort that I still have the option to reach out makes me more willing to try to self-soothe on my own.

If possible, make yourself a goal to try a new self-soothing technique a week to try when you aren't in distress to see how it feels! Trying these distress skills when we aren't in distress can be really helpful to us being able to use them in distress. When you are trying them, make sure to try and focus solely on the technique. If you are using a taste technique, focus only on the taste and enjoyment of whatever it is. (Using mindfulness techniques to achieve this can be helpful!)