#but I at least prevented a full on binge

[fearofheights9]

I just properly purged for the first time…. What a staged to have reached

[yurozo]

the monomyth, (leon kennedy x reader)

the exodus, also aptly known as retirement, has been sending leon for a loop. you are there to pull him back down to earth. (smut/fluff/overuse of greek references)

a/n: 18+ readers only! anyone under eighteen will be personally chased by me at full running speed. i am very much a classics nerd, as will be glaringly obvious in about three seconds. i love you nerd leon, no one understands you like i do.

shoutout to @vaaaaaiolet who was forced to listen to me ramble about this fic for three entire days

a single structure repeats itself in an endless loop of tragedy and non-tragedy, operating through the cycles of aristotle’s poetics in order to create a universal narrative of the roman hero. prologue, parados, episode, stasimon, and exodus– recycled and reused to form the endless configurations of misfortunes that befall the heroes. what is pervasive, and often tragic, about these heroes is not their moral struggles against the physical evils, but instead an internal and divine battle against a common enemy– time. 

ultimately, what defines the perfect tragedian hero is the prevailing feeling of inescapability. they cannot run from the ties of fate that rely on them as a catharsis for conflict, and instead must emotionally resolve themselves to their social positions as a weapon for the gods, regardless of the institution’s ideology. this priori of obligation forced by an infinite and perfect consciousness is what makes the tragic hero tragic; this life is not one that they choose for themselves, but one they are forced to live until that last grain of sand slips through the hourglass. 

leon’s eyes had started to burn thirty minutes ago, long ignored in favour of another jstor binge at a truly ungodly hour of the night. he, at least, had the chivalry of keeping his phone brightness on the lowest setting, screen carefully tilted away from your resting eyes. 

this whirlwind of information had started with the myth of perseus, followed by odysseus, and then a countless amount of papers analyzing the hubris of the tragedian heroes. supplementary material for tomorrow’s breakfast conversation, so that he can talk at length over eggs and coffee across from your bright eyes and eager expression. 

that’s what always killed him, just how genuinely interested you were in whatever he said. god knows that was especially rare, particularly from the other women in his life. claire was always half-listening whenever he lost himself on a tangent, and don’t get him started on trying to get ada interested in anything he had to say. 

but ada was long gone, and claire was always delighted on your talent of getting leon off her back. 

how contentedly boring his life has gotten that the most exciting part of his day is your opinion on his recent fixation, just to listen to you fill in all the missing pieces he never realized were absent. you were like that in almost every aspect of his life, the golden glue that slowly puts poor humpty dumpty back together again. 

wrong type of mythology. regardless, you were something he never realized he desperately needed until that warm feeling of being content started filling his chest. a passing comment on his resemblance to a greek god had established this whole spiral– a form delicately cut in marble and praised over the centuries for the countless deeds committed in a long war to protect his people. 

perseus, maybe. or odysseus, but that was too easy. too cliche. leon was never one for divine glory, instead preferring the silent type of satisfaction that came from finally putting some good back in this world. or preventing more terrible things from happening, more like. a careful balancing act, another stupid cycle of finally feeling like a person again until he can get home and stop the dreams of people screaming in your ever-so-loving arms. 

bellerophon is the final choice. a figure riding into battle against the monstrous chimeric beast with only a tamed ally and a lead-tipped weapon. a hero that was never satisfied, choosing bigger and bigger fights until he falls from the heavens and into the dirt below. a god angered at his success, a product of an institution that brought him into a war he never asked for as a weapon, and left him crippled to wander the world alone when he ascended too far. 

maybe retirement really was getting to him. this so-called period of exodus, a final parting song and the materialization of the final crisis. 

you stir in your sleep then, arm sliding across his chest until your head is tucked against his bicep. he moves to rest his arm  underneath your head instead, which instead of achieving its original purpose of comforting you, only causes your eyes to blink blearily up at him. 

“get off wikipedia,” you mumble, shifting the blankets until it sufficiently covers the both of you. another thing he never noticed, how cold his legs were, sprawled uncovered on the mattress. this kind of comfortable routine is where you and leon thrived, so used to each other’s presence that accommodation was natural. “you should be sleeping, we have a big day tomorrow.”

“i’m on jstor. totally different site.” he supplies unhelpfully, earning a stern glare in return. his lips peck your forehead a moment after in apology. his version of proskynesis, a gesture of reverence towards his god that showed him admiration instead of ire.

“i was thinking of taking the bike,” the change in subject is nonchalant, like it’s not three thirty in the morning and you’re definitely functioning enough for idle conversation. 

“hell no,” you grumble, sinking further into the mattress. “i’m not getting on that thing with you.”

leon shifts until he’s on top of you, now wide awake and grinning slyly down. “not a fan of my chariot?”

“while i usually do love riding you, that thing is a death machine.” the glimmer of amusement in your eyes now match his own. finally, you’re actually awake. an unspoken question, a command, given from the divine to its mortal instrument. “and i’ve seen the way you drive it. i very much value my life.”

“that’s different. i can’t exactly go slow on those things when there’s rabid dogs chasing me.” he alleviates his statement with a slow string of kisses down your neck, soft and gentle like he can’t snap someone’s neck with his bare hands. “and i’ll be careful. promise.”

“like you promised not to get hurt in alcatraz?” your rebuttal doesn’t phase him, his mouth still preoccupied with tracing down your neck until his fingers start to pull the collar of your shirt down. 

“extenuating circumstances,” he mutters, lowering himself down the blankets until his mouth is in line with your hips. divine fate, maybe, or some other twisted machination of a higher being that decrees his near-death every six months. it’s hard to stare up and curse at the gods when they brought you to him, his own piece of olympus pliant in his hands. 

your hips lift off the mattress as he pulls at your shorts, another directive he is all too happy to follow. hunnigan would be furious at his obedience, like a dog all too happy to head the leash. 

“besides,” he continues, lips brushing against the frail skin of your upper thighs. “i’m officially a retired man. long past my prime.”

why does tragedy exist? is it purely to show the power of the gods, that they so fiercely defend the threads of fate that control every aspect of their existence? is it simply a consequence of the endless cycle of war invited by a world whose very frame requires an institution to desire it? regardless of its source, a world born of this mindset cannot escape an endless cycle of war that legitimizes a world-destroying violence, with no true winner other than the institution that began it. 

his clothes are pulled off quickly, following yours. scraps of fabric thrown haphazardly around the room, ignored in favour of hands tracing along the contours of your body. gentle, reverent. nails tracing down every scar, every piece of evidence that you are real, that you are alive, and there’s nothing within these four walls that can take this away from him too. 

“not too far past to not be horny in the middle of the night.” you huff, curling your hand in his hair to pull him back down to you. his breath ghosts over your thighs, his tongue darting out instinctively to wet his lips. 

“i’m a simple man,” he lowers his mouth to you, licking a premeditative stripe up your folds. “got a beautiful wife in my bed. just can’t help myself.”

the hand in his hair pulls him closer, and leon understands the simple action for what it is. a cue to stop talking and get to work, to use his mouth for something other than popping off one-liners at inopportune moments. a man’s place is on his knees, and all that.

where leon is rough in every aspect of his life, he is always careful with you. he eats you out like it’s somehow the last time he’s ever going to do it, and the first time he’s ever tasted anything so divine. equal parts eager and careful, even as his fingers prod at your entrance. 

you jut your hips up again, and he slips two in easily. every part of you is familiar with every part of him. his tongue and hands start a rhythm, a soft push and pull that slowly eases you to the peak. a peaceful trek to that coiled tension starting in your legs, thighs squeezing around his head in the way you know he likes. 

that one took a while for him to admit; that he liked the feeling of being crushed between you. it was a long-drawn experiment on how far on the pain threshold he could bear before it got too much for him, until it started to push past pleasure and more into the drowning in the too-high waters of a lab territory. years of experience has taught you where to stop, his secret little tells that no one else knew about burrowed deep into your memory for safekeeping. 

that furrow between his brow deepens, and you know to ease off a little. he kisses your clit in a silent thanks, before his rhythm resumes. while leon may not feel the decreased stamina of age yet, you are too aware of your limits to handle two orgasms, so you have the mind to pull him off before that point of no return. 

leon sprawls on the mattress next to you, hands gently easing you up until your knees are bracketing his hips. not usually his preferred position, considering his penchant for control. 

“my back hurts,” he mumbles softly, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss along your knuckles. “want you to ride me.”

“if you make another chariot joke, i’m seriously going to hit you.”

“ye’ of little faith,” his hand drops yours to line himself up with you, and a gentle push of his hips drives the tip of him into you. “i never make the same joke twice.”

your only answer is a shuddering gasp until you gain your bearings enough to sink down onto him fully. he lays still for a few seconds, letting you get used to the intrusion. his breath stutters in his chest as your hands lay flat onto it, right palm splayed right over his heart. 

an uneven thump, beating so fast in his chest that its a god-given miracle he hasn’t keeled over yet. 

there’s a unique type of mythmaking when it comes to the tragic heroine. it is a story of fear; innocence; fall from innocence; catharsis; being desired by the right people; being desired by the wrong people; by dangerous people; by excitingly dangerous people. revision is a privilege given to so few who desire it, and to be tender-hearted in a world defined by tragedy is to die. 

and yet, the fruit of consideration when it comes to tragedy is not the moral resignation that comes with that acceptance. instead, it is a revealing of the self’s utter dependency on others. the reason that tragedy works is that character is built through this adversity. just as the nature of goodness appears in the face of moral evil, tragedy shows what is fragile and ultimately human about us. 

but you are not a god, and he is not a myth. there is no divine fate here, only a random calculation of ethereal and clunky moments that controls so much of his life that he just has to live it. that dependence is the one good thing that has come from all the fighting, and the aching, and the loneliness. a perverted sort of serendipity that leon thanks the heavens for every waking moment. 

he is real, and you are real, and that’s enough for him. 

both of you are moving in tandem, chasing the upcoming release with a soft desperation. his hands are firmly grasping at your hips, kneading the flesh there like its the only thing tethering him to this reality. that heat of pleasure starts to coil in your gut, and judging by the twisted expression on leon’s face, he’s not too far behind. 

“please,” he gasps, shoving you down until your chest is pressed against his. “i need-”

“i know,” you answer softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that delightfully juxtapose the depraved way his hips are slamming against yours. 

it’s like falling  down from the heavens, except this time there’s no splatter of a body onto the earth. only a light feeling crawling through his limbs, like that final moment of peace before succumbing to the darkness. if the gods had asked him now for a sacrifice, he would have gotten on his knees all over again to keep you. when tranquility was once the bane of his existence, now it is the center of it. 

you tense above him, like a goddess struck in stone until you are returned to the flesh, crumpling on top of him. a soft cough escapes him, a wheezing sound that signifies that you are most definitely crushing his lungs. the forces that be roll the both of you to the side until you’re facing each other, his hand unconsciously reaching for yours under the mattress. happy, warm, and sated– leon’s husbandly duties have officially been achieved. 

“i love you,” he whispers, and he doesn’t even realize the tear escaping his eye until you gently wipe it away. every part of him now is soft and malleable, even the parts so carefully hidden from everyone else. 

“love you too, old man.” 

a final kiss to your forehead before he tucks you into his chest, “we’ll take the car tomorrow.”

two more hours until he can eat eggs and drink slightly shitty coffee, and finally fill you in on his newfound epiphany. his arms wrap around your half-conscious figure, body curling around you like something to protect. you hug him tightly in return, bare skin soft on your cheek. your arms hold him like he is sacred too. 

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

��Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[tossawary]

Sooo... chapter 1 (page 11) says outright: "Luo Binghe used Xin Mo to release his body's seal on his demonic blood." Direct quote. I now feel very, VERY silly for missing this line when I was writing my essay on how I headcanoned Su Xiyan's seal on Binghe's demon side working, but it's also nice to be proven right in a way!

The Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python's abyss-summoning call (canon) must have only partially broken this space-based seal (headcanon) to reveal PIDW Binghe to the original Shen Qingqiu, and Xin Mo's special abilities were needed to get the seal off fully. Which means that PIDW Binghe was going through the Endless Abyss WITHOUT full access to his demon side, with a broken seal that I feel I can also assume was painful and probably impeded his cultivation.

No WONDER that SVSSS Binghe speedran his way through the Endless Abyss comparatively. Mobei-Jun (with his own weird abyss and portal powers, replacing the BMRP) ripped that seal clean off on the spot! Binghe got slam-dunked into full access to his demon side, but at least he didn't have to suffer the potential horrible pain of a half-broken seal for up to maybe five years.

It makes me want to think about (canon divergence / alternate canon) fic ideas in which Shang Qinghua might have dropped a line or even directly orchestrated this with Mobei-Jun - "Hey, my king, there's a heavenly demon kid at my sect with a really special seal on his powers, I think only you could rip it off? Then he could finally go to the Demon Realm!" - because if Airplane can't prevent his protagonist from going into the tyrant-making pit of suffering and despair (System says it has to happen), then maybe he can make it a little less torturous? Maybe that'll save his ass or Mobei-Jun's ass someday by making Bing-ge a little less insane- oh, shit, Shen Qingqiu is a fucking TRANSMIGRATOR?!

[lunarflux]

I'm rewatching HOTD with a friend who's never seen it, and we just finished episode 8. When I watched the show the first time, I binged the entire first season in one night while I was doing work, so there was a lot that I didn't really pay attention to.

At the final dinner scene with the Greens and the Blacks, I didn't see the look on Aemond's face during the toasts. The sheer look of disappointment at mild anticipation from waiting for either Jace or Luke to bring up the eye incident was so obvious, and Aemond looked genuinely disappointed. There's more than one layer to this - Aemond claimed Vhagar, not knowing Rhaena was to try to claim her next. There's room for at least acknowledgment that he took something from Rhaena.

In the same breath, Jace saying he had fond memories of their childhood without acknowledging that it wasn't fond for all of them definitely hurt Aemond. There's little blame there because even Alicent tells Aegon that "his cousins can't be his play things forever" which would insinuate that Jace and Luke followed after Aegon's lead as the oldest just as Aemond followed suit when Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk.

I think this would be a matter of who wants to step up first as each of the children had some kind of reason to feel angry, and at a young age, it requires a lot of humility (which is not easily learned) to take ownership of your part in an incident that had so many layers to it. There was more than one incident where we see young Aemond want to talk to one of them about their treatment of him, for example, at Laena's funeral.

Had Aegon, Luke, and Jace not teased Aemond, Aemond would have not felt such a burning urge to claim a dragon as soon as one was available. That directly led to him claiming Vhagar, then into him losing his eye. Had Alicent done more to keep all of the children from treating Aemond differently, the behavior might have changed sooner. At the same time, Rhaenyra wasn't aware of how the kids treated Aemond, and if she had known, she should have also said something. However, the rift between her and Alicent prevented them from talking about their children in a way that would benefit all of them.

Aemond's eye is gone, full stop. If Jace's toast was different or if Luke said something about that night, that final meal would have ended basically everything. We know after season 2, episode 2, Rhaenyra cares for Helaena as they are both mothers, but in theory, if Rhaenyra would have seen how Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond were more or less emotionally neglected, Rhaenyra would have been the best person to step in and create a bond with them. Aegon would have learned about how to be a king and would have been close to his half-sister, possibly negating the notion that he would be cast away from the kingdom once she ascended. Helaena would have felt more compassion about her affinity for the odd, and Aemond would have had a sibling beyond circumstances.

Alicent had too much forced on her to be able to be a mother in it's highest capacity. There's blame, but there's reason. Otto clearly has the most influence on her, and had Otto used it to its full potential, he could have easily given her reason to treat her children as the "just in case rulers" and foster them into good leaders with Vicerys as "what not to do" examples. However, Otto, while he does care about his daughter, had such a broad goal that he didn't take into account what the kids should have learned from Vicerys in terms of what he did right as king.

This whole show is a "which came first, the chicken or the egg" situation. Just like Rhaenys says in episode 3, did Luke's death really start the conflict or was it when Luke took Aemond's eye?

[oneatlatime]

Hiii!!! I’ve been binging through your blog for the past few weeks and I noticed how you talk about how Kataang(Katara x Aang) is portrayed in the show. Honestly yeah, I will admit I didn’t like it at first but now I just don’t really care for it. But I’d be interested hearing an in-depth opinion on the ship(unless you already did and I just never noticed or forgot 😭).

Another question, do you think you’re going to read the comics that came out the series? If you’re asking my opinion I’d say they’re a uuuh 7-8 out of 10 IG?

I do have thoughts on Kataang which I haven't shared yet. Part of me thinks I should wait to answer your ask until I've finished the series; it's obvious to me that these two are being set up to be the big finale couple, which means if I talk about them now I'm probably missing the pieces I need to have a full, well-rounded opinion. But you know what? I feel like talking about them now. So here goes.

Short answer: It peeves me that Aang comes from a culture that seemingly doesn't even have parents, yet he still manages to date his mother.

Long answer: they're both way too young. I'm a huge fan of letting the kids be kids for as long as possible. Especially with these kids, who have been prevented from being kids by the war. As Katara points out in the opening scene of the very first episode, she's been the mother since her own died (or at least she feels like she has had to be the mother). Call me crazy, but I'd rather Katara spend a few years after the war doing dumb childish stuff to recapture that lost childhood than jump straight into a relationship. Isn't the safety and space to do dumb childish stuff one of the things those who are trying to end the war are fighting for? Shouldn't she get to enjoy that? And Aang is just way too young no matter what way you look at it. He's 12 right? I think that would make him a grade 6 student. Back in my day (yells at cloud) Grade 6 students collected yugioh cards and feuded over who had the snazzier lunch box. I could picture a 12 year old having a crush on a slightly older girl that goes to the same school, but it would be short lived and unactionable. I guess Katara would be around 14? So, a grade 8 student. A grade 8 girl would not date a grade 6 boy. It would just never happen.

They've both got bigger fish to fry. Aang is the last Air Nomad AND the current Avatar. When he fully takes on both of those positions, what time will he have for a girlfriend? Katara is the only Southern Waterbender. Whether or not she wants the responsibility, it will be her duty to single-handedly reconstruct a huge portion of her nation's culture from the ground up once she returns south. Does she have the time to ping pong around the globe mothering her boyfriend as he rides giant animals or does Avatar stuff? Say she wants to: what will her family and the rest of her tribe think of the only person who can access such a huge part of their culture riding off into the sunset?

Their current relationship dynamic is still too mother/son. This is more obvious in season 1 than in season 2 (maybe that's growth?) but you can't depict a male/female pair as pieta and then expect me to ship. I think this could change somewhat, but I've already been disappointed in that. I thought that once Katara had mastered waterbending and therefore felt she had something other than mothering to contribute to the group, she would back off with the mothering. And she did, a little, but not enough for my tastes. Maybe as Aang fully steps into the Avatar role and the last Air Nomad role (sidenote: no idea what the latter would look like) he'll move on to a more equal relationship with Katara.

I think Katara is meant for better things than rebirthing a nation. Bending seems to be at least somewhat genetic. So if Aang wants Airbending in any form to survive after his death, he's going to need a billion kids. While I could definitely see Katara wanting children, I don't see her as the barefoot pregnant type.

I'm not convinced that Aang has a clear picture of Katara. She has flaws, which is good! Does Aang see them?

I get the feeling that, while they are helping each others' skills grow as they travel the globe, they are also preventing each others' personalities from growing. As long as Aang is around, Katara has someone to mother. As long as Katara is around, Aang has someone who prevents him from feeling the full weight of his responsibilities. Again, this is worse in season 1, but how often did Katara deny that Aang was to blame for something that was at least somewhat his fault? Aang will never become a fully rounded person until he can look at his flaws and mistakes dead on and say "my bad" without a Katara in the background going "no you're perfect!" Katara deserves to find out what kind of person she is outside of a nurturing role. Quick thought experiment: what if you pair Katara with someone who needs no nurturing, or better yet, nurtures her? And what if you pair Aang with someone as bluntly truthful as Toph? Katara and Aang might find both of those situations uncomfortable at first, but I think it would contribute to their growth.

Aang having a crush on an oblivious Katara would be a great single season arc. I think it would fit both of their characters well, and I think Aang growing past latching on to the first person he saw after the iceberg would be a good way to show that he's rooting himself in his time-displaced present, and fully committing to ending the war. And don't get me wrong, I love Aang and Katara both as a fighting team and as friends.

These kids are all fighting a war, and all kids. I don't mind the supporting characters having romances, because it's not like Sokka or Suki can end the war, no matter how hard they try/might want to. But I'm a big believer in doing one thing at a time, and I think if you're the only person in the whole world who can end a war, then ending the war should take precedence over dating. I'm aware that that's an unrealistic expectation and out of step with the show's theme of balance. In the real world, birth rates skyrocket during war time because people live for the moment and grab happiness (read boinking) wherever they see it. But both these kids are pre-boinking age so I'm going to be a cranky old fart about it.

Being the wife of the Avatar is a position that will often come with being relegated to second place, especially with the amount of work that undoing a century of war will take. Although she works well in a team, Katara is a naturally dominant personality. Katara did enough of putting herself in second place before the series started. I think Katara could very easily fall into the pattern of subjugating her own needs and desires and putting her husband's first, but I don't want that to happen. And one way to prevent that from happening is to prevent her from dating the single most politically important person in the universe. (To be clear, Aang would never deliberately squish a wife like that, I just think the workload of being Avatar and last air nomad would cause that to happen)

A lot of my objections to this pairing are very adult objections. I don't know what I would have thought about this pairing when I was the age of the show's target audience. It undoubtedly would have bothered me less, although I probably would have been put off by how twee it is. As an adult, all I can see are babies playing house.

As for the comics, I hadn't made any concrete plans to read them. I don't know where I'd get access to them. I'm not sure how canonical they are. I guess I should probably decide whether or not I want to read them after I've finished the whole series. I've been told that my girl Jin appears in one of them, so I definitely have some interest. I have also had the Avatar Kyoshi novels strenuously recommended to me. But so much of Avatar's charm, to me, is in the medium. And while comics are closer to animation than books are, they're still static. Avatar does movement so well.

[roisinivy]

September is PCOS Awareness month. Last year I made a post including all of the common symptoms. As it's nearly a year since my diagnosis, I thought I would share my story of being diagnosed...

I started showing symptoms of having polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS for short) when I was 14, in 2018. I went 9 months without a period, started growing body hair in places that are not considered 'normal' for women, gained a lot of weight, started getting very oily skin and acne.

When my mum queried this with a doctor, she was told I was just a teenager having an irregular phase and that no doctor would seriously look at a diagnosis for me until I was at least 16.

(what my mum didn't know is that I was being groomed and had been assaulted, which is when I developed binge eat disorder, which also accounted for the weight gain...)

By the time I had turned 16 in 2020, covid had put the uk into a second nation wide lockdown and completely ruined an already struggling NHS.

I didn't see a doctor about my PCOS until a month before I turned 19, due to all of the backlog.

My doctor ordered a blood test, and an ultrasound of my ovaries at a nearby hospital. The blood test was completed within a week, but it took me 6 weeks to get my first scan. I am still a virgin, and due to being sexually assaulted when I was younger, I was extremely nervous about having something in me and to have a nurse/doctor see me like that.

The external ultrasound was incredibly painful, having a bladder full of two liters of water pushing down onto you. The nurse couldn't get a good enough view, so I went to relive myself before having what would be my first of three ultrasounds.

The nurse took one look at my scan and confirmed I definitely had polycystic ovaries, she could also see I had ovulated. I knew I would be having my first period in 4 months in December of 2023. This was the last period I had, it was the worst I'd had in a very long time.

On my first scan, a large cyst was spotted, so I would need a second one due to the size of it. It was roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. My ovaries are also swollen to about three times the size they should be.

By my second scan, it had disappeared. I had a third as a precaution, which was also clear of anything concerning.

I then started taking Cerelle birth control in February.

I have had two bartholin cysts (infection of the vagina), hives, extremely sore breasts on and off, nausea, low libido, acne, increased body weight, tiredness, rashes and so much more caused by my birth control...

But it's preventing me from having an increased risk of developing cancer when I'm older, masking my symptoms so that I can have a 'normal' life whilst living with PCOS.

Although I still grow a better beard than my 18 year old brothers thanks to the increase androgen lol

I don't know how long I'll stay on birth control, or if I'll have to use other treatments, but this is my PCOS journey so far.

[ghosterexia]

If you want to lose weight, you must change your routine.

Here r some of my fav tips thats helps me lose almost 60 Ibs!

DISCLAIMER: I am COMPLETELY pro recov (yes at any BMI), if you are under 18 or non edblrr, plz leave. Take care of urselfs, im not a health care professional and most importantly plz look after urself <3

1.) I never spend much time at home.

Spending my time at home means I’m going to be bored. I know it. I’ve lived on my own for almost two years in October, and through my entire wl process, I realized I get bored at home, even if I don’t have food at my house, I’ll DoorDash. Nothing will prevent me from eating unless I remove myself from the situation. So I’ll take myself out, get a coffee walk around see what’s new and just explore!

2. Eat what you want

The BIGGEST tip I have for consistency. Eat what you want, don’t eat shit ur not gonna like. Of course in moderation. Im lucky that I grew up with parents that taught me a healthy diet, but I LOVE coffee. I used to drink tons of sugary creamy coffee which is just all empty cals. I still drink coffee, i actually tend to have one iced latte every day. Sounds quite excessive but it’s what I know will keep me on my feet. It’s my treat to myself. Plus it’s completely customizable so I’ve found ways to keep my latte cals under 100 cals 😉

3.) BE FUCKING NICER TO YOURSELF!!

YES I fucking mean it. Be kinder to yourself. Having an 3D is already a living fucking nightmare the last thing you need is negative reinforcement. Let’s say you just binged. Sure, you can sprint on the treadmill, or even pxrg3, but you are only going to repeat that cycle. Our bodies are intelligent. Not everything is a mental reaction if that makes sense. If you are b1ng1ng it’s because you need to supplement urself with those nutrients and fuel that ur body is lacking. And that’s okay, plus one or two binges a week (of course within a reasonable amount) can help aid ur metabolism. My biggest tip from bouncing back from a b1ng3 r3str1ct cycle is eating at maintenance and eating nutrient dense foods!

4.) Experiment with your diet

No, this has nothing to do with cals. Like I previously mentioned, I grew up in a household where my parents were cooking healthy real meals. But at some point, I lost a lot of that connection and I had to reteach myself what I liked. With that being said, retry things you used to like, try new foods, seriously the more wider ur palette is the more options you’ll have when it comes down to 3ating.

5. Actually eat better

This is so much easier said than done and I understand that. But seriously eat better. If you are what many call a “junkorexic” sure, you are still eating in a deficit and you are still going to lose weight but like I mentioned before our bodies are so much smarter then we think. Just because u can eat a bag of chips and ramen for dinner and stay under 800 cals a day doesn’t mean your gonna make true progress. Because your only source of energy is coming from empty calories, you aren’t actually getting the nutrients you need. This is going to lead you to a variety of physical symptoms and most importantly of all you are least likely to stick to that di3t cuz ur gonna feel fucking miserable. A 300 cal bag of chips isn’t gonna make you feel full but maybe 300 cals worth of chicken and vegetables might!! You are also just overall more likely to binge because 1 these foods r made to be addictive and 2 ur not actually satisfied and u aren’t ACTUALLY fueling ur body with the correct nutrients.

6. SET URSELF UP 4 SUCCESS

It’s a very broad phrase, but what I mean is if u do ur own grocery shopping and ur buying urself chips, ice cream, sodas (even diet sodas), if you don’t have the right amount of self discipline or you know you lack self control, you r likely to binge. So try swapping out for lower calorie but similar snacks, maybe less snacks that you’ll typically eat and save those cals for meals. Or my favorite, make ur own snacks at home!! ^_^ also LEARN HOW TO FUCKING COOK!! SERIOUSLY the weight will just fall off if u know what ur putting in ur meals and u know what ur consuming!!!

That’s pretty much all I got for now but let me know if there’s other tips you’d like to hear! Please take care of yourself, we are all suffering together, and ur weight is not a determination of how serious ur 3D is. <3

[lowcosmic]

Hiiii, I hope I don't bother you with this, but could you make like, a very arrogant reader who is in love with Kokichi and the feelings are mutuals but both of them are in denial despite it being so obvious that everyone is just looking at them like 🤨. Between love your works I've pratically binge read all of your fics

—— repudiation . ; kokichi ouma

“ he smiled sweetly ( almost like an angel’s ) … ”

— 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : kokichi really likes you ; and you , as arrogant as you are , like him back . but the thing is , you both are in denial. though , with the help of a couple of your friends , maybe that’s subject to change.

— 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff

— 𝐜𝐰 : cursing

— 𝐚/𝐧 : u all are so nice to me tysvm ♡♡ !!!!

“ come ooon , forgive me , please? i didn’t knooow , pleeaaase stop ignoring me !! ” kokichi whined , tugging on your arm. once he got your attention , he pushed you to the ground.

“ what the actual — ” you stopped yourself when seeing the position your both were in.

“ how could you ignore this face ?! ” kokichi confidently asked , putting his hands on either side of you.

“ … whatever. ” you murmured , a rushing heat pooling from your neck to your face. “ fine. just get off. ”

kokichi grinned and hugged you before getting off. “ aww , were you flustered ?? ”

“ i wouldn’t — !! i wouldn’t get flustered by some pipsqueak like you !! especially since — ”

“ i’m hungry. i’m sure you are too , maybe for something other than food! ~ ”

“ what the — !? shut up. i should be saying that to you with your horny ass. ”

“ come ooon. all the good food’s gonna be gone by the time you’re done yapping about how much you hate me !! ” kokichi urged.

“ i don’t hate you … ” you muttered under your breath.

kokichi spun around to look at you. “ what was that? ~ ”

“ nothing. ” you simply replied.

the walk to the lunchroom was full of talk. about lively matters , about school drama , about — well , anything you and kokichi could find to talk about.

eyes mostly pinned on the other , you two walked into the room with all smiles.

the regular bunch was there , doing their regular agenda.

“ it’s your turn to get lunch for the both of us , kokichi! meetcha at the usual table. ”

“ ughhh , with miu ?? do i have a choice? ” he complained.

“ ha , no. ” you playfully waved him off as you went to go sit with the others.

kaito seemed to be wanting to burst out with some question for you while maki gave him the death eye , which was probably the only thing preventing him from saying something.

meanwhile , miu was upfront about it. “ you and kokichi hang around together an awful lot , you must be fucking each other by now without any of us knowing! ” she cackled.

keebo rolled his eyes. “ what she meant was , are you guys dating yet? ”

“ i already told you guys , nothing’s going on between us! ” the heat from before came back , except it came acquainted with thoughts on what could happen if you did date kokichi.

“ but you guys are always stuck together , or at least in the same room. ” shuichi chimed in rather hesitantly.

“ exactly !!! you must have some feelings for him by now , right ?? ” kaito loudly exclaimed.

“ kaito. ” maki glared , which earned a yelp from kaito in return.

you regained a more calm , but still stubborn , aura. “ i don’t. i … ‘m pretty sure. i couldn’t like someone like him !! ”

“ but you like him well enough to ‘ hang around ’ him often. shouldn’t that be pointing to something? even so , human feelings are often misunderstood and are sometimes hard to interpret. we mustn’t harass (y/n) with questions , and instead try to lead them to the right path. ” korekiyo said.

“ and what’s the right path , hm? ” miu interjected.

“ following her heart , of course. ”

right then , kokichi walked up from behind. “ what was kaito yellin’ bout earlier ?? something idiotic i bet !! ”

“ HEY !! it was NOT idiotic !! i was saying how (y/n) — ” Kaito started to say.

“ shut it , idiot … i do have to question your tastes , (y/n). ” maki continued eating her food.

“ tastes on — ?? ”

“ nothing. anyways, let’s eat !! i’m starving. ” you hurriedly cut off kokichi. he looked at you suspiciously , but said nothing while the rest went back to their usual talk.

later , he started bugging you about before.

“ why won’t you tell me anything ?! ” kokichi grabbed onto the cloth on your back.

“ because. ”

he started tearing up ( with fake tears , of course ). you simply kept walking away. he caught up with you.

“ meanie. ”

“ uhh - huh. ” you looked at his face. on display was his crazy - cute form of puppy eyes , only reserved for you and you only.

you swore and immediately turned away. he knew that you knew that he would do anything to hear what you had to say about earlier.

it’d be easier just to tell him.

“ we were talking about feelings , okay? ”

“ ooooh !! romantic , i’m guessing ?? kaito really did yell abou — ”

“ yeah , yeah. bingo. ” you felt your face flush. were you really ready to tell him? and were these feelings really valid? it didn’t make sense.

“ aaaaand? sooooo? ” kokichi impatiently tapped his foot.

“ i think i love you. ” you diverted eye contact as kokichi fell silent. in that moment , kokichi knew that his feelings were valid. he liked you , no , even loved. there’s no way he’d let you go , even if it’d save his life.

“ … why didn’t you say so in the first place , dumbass? ” he said , making you turn around to face him , only to be met with your second tackle of the day.

he smiled sweetly ( almost like an angel’s ) , sunk his lips down to yours , and muttered a small , “ i love you too. ~ ” before closing the gap.

yes , everyone did tease you and kokichi the next day after you announced that the two of you were officially dating.

please don’t repost , translate , or claim my works as your own.

[transmutationisms]

never really gave much thought to it until now but it is so weird to experience disordered eating tendencies solely cause of food insecurity but all i ever really heard about it was how its related to beauty standards etc, and so i never really took ot seriously and developed some very shitty habits due to food inaccessibility.

do you maybe have some articles or anything worth checking out about that side of eds? thanks in advance, love your blog so much!!

When the researchers sat down and started analyzing the results, they found almost linear correlations between eating disorder symptoms and food insecurity. A replication study in 2019, conducted in an even larger population at the same food bank, found almost identical results. “It was some of the saddest and most beautiful data that I had ever seen,” Becker said.

Her work challenged preconceptions about what eating disorders actually were.

Singh, the New York dietician, said those preconceptions stem from the fact that people who have eating disorders and can afford to seek help tend to be wealthier. And most research is done on patients who show up in clinics.

Food insecurity never even entered the picture of how psychology and psychiatry conceptualized an eating disorder, Singh said. As a result, starving yourself to lose weight was considered a disorder, but no one thought about starving yourself to ensure your family had enough to eat.

Results suggested that individuals in the child hunger insecure group had the highest levels of eating disorder symptoms. Seventeen percent of individuals in this group had a clinically significant eating disorder, compared with 9.4% in the food insecure group, 2.6% in the household food insecure group, and 2.9% in the not food insecure group. Binge eating, overeating, night eating (waking up to eat a large amount of food with distress at night), vomiting, laxative/water pill use, skipping at least two meals in a row, exercising harder than usual because of eating too much food, and weight/shape concerns were all more common in the child hunger food insecure group than the other three groups. There were no differences between groups for the eating disorder symptoms based on sex, race, or ethnicity. Similarly, internalized weight stigma and worry was greatest in the child hunger group.

There are several implications for this study. First, these data reiterate that eating disorders do not discriminate on the basis of socioeconomic status. Individuals who are food insecure need to be considered in future research in order to fully understand risks that are specific to this population (e.g., food restriction for any reason). Second, prevention, intervention, and treatment programs need to be designed so they can reach individuals who do not have the money to access these programs. For example, current treatments for eating disorders are primarily delivered face-to-face with a trained clinician, which is difficult to disseminate to a wide range of individuals. Finally, although not directly assessed, anti-obesity programs may negatively affect individuals who are food insecure and overweight or obese, given that internalized weight stigmatization was high in a proportion of these individuals. Additional research in this population will be critical to better understand risk factors for eating disorder symptoms in this understudied population.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/eat.22735 (<-link to study discussed above)

Many people (incorrectly) believe that eating disorders (ED) are more prevalent in the higher socioeconomic status (SES) groups. Studies conducted in the 1960s and 70s corroborate this statement; however, their methods may have biased the results. Recent studies using health questionnaires distributed to large heterogeneous populations have shown that EDs equally effect all people, regardless of SES. These studies have also demonstrated that females of the lower SES group report higher rates of disordered eating behavior (vomiting, use of diet pills, diuretics, or laxatives as a means to lose weight).

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Tips For Mindful, Healthy Eating

Be mindful of the foods you keep at home: While I'm not a fan of restriction (especially of entire macronutrients), know yourself well enough to help yourself prevent binging on trigger foods that you start overeating when stressed, tired, etc. My rule of thumb is if I would be uncomfortable having 2 servings of something in a sitting, it doesn't belong in my fridge/freezer/pantry. Keep those treats for socializing or outside of the home.

Discover a selection of healthy meals, snacks, and staple items you love: Physical, nutritional, and emotional satisfaction are all essential to keep your cravings in check. Consider the 5 or so lunches/dinners you love and 1-3 breakfast options, at least 1-2 sweet and savory snacks (like fruit, popcorn, edamame, etc.) to create a simple rotation to keep you satisfied throughout the week. Experiment with different recipes/produce/spices/low sugar & low-fat condiments and seasonings to find what combinations taste the best to you.

Check-in with yourself before eating: Ensure that you're eating due to true hunger rather than feelings of boredom, stress, sadness, etc. If you have the urge to emotionally eat, try to get moving by shaking your arms, dancing around your room, taking a walk, etc. for at least 5-10 minutes before considering getting something to eat.

Enjoy mindful eating: Eat with as few distractions as possible. Take your time to enjoy the food. Take small bites, put your utensils down between bites, and chew slowly. Check in with yourself throughout the eating experience to reconnect with your hungry cues as you get through the plate or bowl of food. See if your hunger is decreasing and how full you feel throughout the experience. Make eating its own separate and enjoyable activity whenever possible.

Have indulgent teas, coffees, and fruit water on hand: Eat if you're truly hungry. But, for the times you're bored or stressed, having a vanilla or cinnamon tea, a cup of cold brew, or a lemon/fruit-infused water can satisfy your desire for some palette simulation

Don't get into a binge-restrict cycle: Allow yourself to eat when you're truly hungry, otherwise, you will overcompensate at a later date. A good litmus test to see if you're truly hungry is to reflect on whether multiple food options could satisfy your current desire for food. If only one food or unhealthy options sound desirable, you're probably experiencing a craving rather than true hunger.

Stay hydrated & get enough sleep: Drinking enough water and a full night's rest are essential to prevent energy crashes that increase your hunger and decrease your inhibitions to give into stress binges or choose unhealthy options. Always keep a glass of water by your side when working, watching TV, etc. to prevent dehydration or a general lack of fluids. Give yourself a loose sleep schedule with an hour or so grace period for your ideal bedtime and wake-up time for the workweek and the weekends.

Ensure you're meeting all of your vitamin requirements: Your body will naturally feel sluggish and more susceptible to cravings if you're not getting enough of certain nutrients on a regular basis. I always supplement with B12 and vitamin D as someone who's been vegan for over a decade. Make sure your diet incorporates nutrients like iron, magnesium, and zinc (common nutrient deficiencies).

[cozydiiary]

what are ur best tips to help prevent binging?

what works for me may not work for you, but finding a good distraction always helps me forget about my cravings and such.

this isn’t something i do (even though i probably should) but eating small things throughout the day will also help prevent a binge. if you’re at least kind of full, then you won’t be tempted to binge on a ton.

[starvedftm]

Hey there! I’m Luca and welcome to my page! I’m not pro ana. I’ll be using this acc to keep track of my progress and also to meet people who are also struggling <3

If you’re in recovery or are sensitive to €D related things then this page is not for you. Block, don’t report thanks!

Some info about me 🙃

Height: 5 ft 5 inch

SW: 159.6 lbs

CW: 121.8 lbs

GW: 115lbs

UGW: 85lbs

BMI: 35

I have been clinically diagnosed with anorexia since September 2022 and ARFID (avoidant restrictive food intake disorder) since May 2022. ARFID basically means I’m an extremely picky eater, which makes successful relapse so much harder. I have been admitted to hospital 4 times this year and I’m forced to gain weight there which is really hard. At the moment I’m trying my best to lose weight subtly to stay out of hospital. I have doctors appointments 1-2 times a week where I get weighed and have my vitals checked, if any of it is concerning to the doctor then she will most likely admit me. It’s so annoying.

⭐️ Motivation ⭐️

I have a jar and for every meal I miss I add £1 into it so, if I do a full day fast I get £5, if I go over my calorie limit I take away £5 and if I binge then I discard everything that was in the jar and have to start over again. Once I reach one of my goal weights I get to use whatever money is in the pot on a non food related reward! 😊

⭐️ Goals + Rewards ⭐️

GW1: 115lbs - Amazon Spree (£25)

GW2: 110 lbs - Shein Spree (£15)

GW3: 105 lbs - New Hoodie (£14)

GW4: 100 lbs - Build A Bear Frog (£20)

GW5: 95 lbs - New Tracksuit (£27)

UGW: 90 lbs - Shopping Spree (£50)

I’ll be having around 500 calories a day, most of it will be protein and carbs. I won’t allow myself to eat anything that has more than 3g of fat in it. I’ll let myself disregard that rule once a week and let myself have a ‘treat’ food to avoid binging.

My meal times are :

Breakfast:

8.30 AM - 8.40 AM

Morning snack:

11 AM - 11.10 AM

Lunch:

1 PM - 1.10 PM

Afternoon Snack:

3 PM - 3.10 PM

Dinner:

5 PM - 5.10 PM

Evening Snack:

8 PM - 8.10 PM

I don’t let myself eat outside of these time frames, it prevents eating out of boredom ☺️

I don’t eat at every time window, I just have the options there so if I’m hungry at 4pm I have to distract myself till 5 and usually the hunger goes away by then c:

For my current plan I can eat 1 of my ‘treat foods’ a week

Allowing myself 1 of them a week cures cravings and prevents me from binging on all of this stuff at once 😊

I aim to do 3 hours of exercise a week and I try to drink at least 1L a day c:

[xsoldier]

It's like he's TRYING to broadcast to the entire world how little he knows about any of the things he's doing and how he's eliminated all of the competent staff who would normally prevent this kind of thing.

Like "Twitter" is one of the most globally recognizable brands in the WORLD, and trying to achieve that type of marketing awareness is INSANELY difficult, not to mention that effective SEO for a single letter is basically impossible to achieve.

For example: think about searching for something like "Jack Black Twitter" and now think about the search for "Jack Black X" how likely are you to land on the result you're trying to find? There's a REASON companies choose names that are natural sounding but slightly obscure. Google, Bing, Yahoo, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, TikTok etc. are names designed to effectively optimize the ability for search engines to locate and elevate the results when people are looking for them. Now think about how many other pages have "X" in them and how a search engine can effectively surface that.

The worst part of this is that this is what the ultra rich are capable of doing to an entire communications system at their whim. Imagine if this was a private postal service, but if it suddenly shut down, every letter or piece of mail that you'd ever sent with them would also vanish. Like, there will be Internet Archive backups, but that's mostly it.

Back in the early 2000s, if your admin went fucking nuts & privated the whole community, if they became mad with power and drove everything into the ground, if someone just didn't renew the domain name or the server owner didn't allow you to keep being hosted — the community could still find backups of the information and restart it somewhere else. I know this because we did exactly that in the early 2000s with the forums I've been an admin of now for almost 15 years.

Twitter can't really do that and Threads or other pop-up replacements are just solutions of other mega corporations trying to monetize upon an unstable market and reinforce their own existing ecosystem, and further gain control over more of those things in a single location that's incentivized AGAINST allowing multi-party interoperability like Reddit cutting off API access to third parties after Twitter did the same. Yes, tumblr is a refuge but for how long?

This is also why online communities moving off webforms and on to Discord gets worrying, because when THOSE communities go dark, the totality of that information up and vanishes. No Web Archive backups. Nothing. There is a worrying volatility about historic information these days, and while I know online platforms don't seem all that important sometimes, it's important to remember random documents and manuscripts are historically significant.

Conversation about preserving digital video games is getting more prominent as companies stop supporting the distribution platforms and the games just up and COMPLETELY vanish at the whims of some random rich idiot who doesn't know what the fuck they're doing, or who does know and doesn't care.

Not just that, but a lot of modern social media platforms are usually the only methods of correspondence we have with at least a few people, and there's a wealthy third party who essentially owns your ability to stay connected to them. It's kind of terrifying to watch how easy it is for someone to sabotage that out of idiocy and ignorance, but it should be more worrying to consider how much easier that would be for someone with the full intent to do so.

Capitalists & oligarchs don't care about the things they preside over, and while it's fun to point and laugh at their expense when the extension of the thing they represent is catching fire, it's important to also consider exactly what the big picture of that means for the future.

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

[honestauthentically]

I designed and built my Tiny-Greenhome, and this invention, of interest, I believe similar, to many, is of a record I have made of it's creation, beginning with a pirate-ship-bed I designed and built with my Dad, and then began drafting as larger houses, in approximately 1992. The design has improved, by my learning, and has also been advanced, I believe, by the interest of friends, and allies. My interest in my Tiny-Greenhomes, ultimately, is as I have found difficult to advance, alone, though, and is, personally, more only to have a place, for myself, the spirit of my Dad, and my significant other(s), and as to use, to pursue my more traditional artwork.

I have authored philosophy, and built more than one house, though my primary interest, is to have the honest means, to return to creating more traditional sculpture. Completion of my Tiny-Greenhome, may provide a fore-structure, capable of honestly surviving, even more extreme weather-- if not advanced to float and fly. Otherwise, I have just disbelief, to account for imagining us ready, with varying degrees, of less. Before feeling the need to build such prosthetics, for injuries I encountered, I was well paid, as a sculptor, and have since cured the problems, of injury, I was given, seeking to defend our country, as an honest civilian.

I originated my Tiny-Greenhome design, and am with full rights to reproduce these homes, though I retain my wish to govern how, and to whom, with interest to honor the honest governance of America. I have sought partners, in the past. Some of my partners are deceased, and for the contributions They made, to my project; maintain controlling interest in the art company I produce my Tiny-Greenhomes through, wishing to continue return upon Their investment.

Would you be interested in being of my future product partners? Would you wish to help fund the continued development of my Tiny-Greenhomes, that I wish my prototype free and clear of, though as able to supply plans to an edition that may be publicly available?

My wish is not to find myself as involved in this product of my business, as how it's prospect could be, financially, given how I have found just my Tiny-Greenhome, necessary to pursue my artwork. I maintain my controlling interest, to return money, to Those that have contributed, so far, that is not so much owed, as I believe Contributors to have earned; to honor honest American governance; and to prevent those that have sought my harm, from seeking to operate my business, also.

As the 100% owner, of my business, and finished prototype, I am; I intend to be at least a 51% owner, of reproductions of the product of my prototype, as editions, utilizing the same basic design, and technology, of my invention. I intend to divide the rest, as net sales, presently, between learning from 'ASolidWhite', brave futurists, 'AJustCause', 'AGreatCreep', "JazzBlues", "Tathan", "Sum", "WingEst", "Grets", "Clips", and "BettyCap", gardeners, 'WoodS', 'IGS', 'Lway', 'Horncar', 'Ore', '[+]', "Verygreen", "Stervo", "Rave", "Silvo", "Ambit", "Vary", "o+", "C", "B", "PButyfingSilFire", "ALtru", "JMF", "Afav", "Iknowaride", and 'Withat'. Also to include "BackScratch", though, due to circumstance of Her/His being probable hostage, of just dispensation, to additional honest care, this credit, to my learning, from His/Her, is not transferable, to another, at this time. This is roughly a 1.53% interest, in this product's net sales, to each; that I would be willing to divide from my interest, further. I would be willing to return money, in other words, by additional investors, and, from my controlling interest, by returning, to each, or additional investors, additional revenue, in order to make each investor as whole as They wish to be. The approximate price of a deluxe mobile home, ranges from $40,000 to $127,250 [bing-google]. The fore-structure of my Tiny-Greenhomes, are designed to be as what may sustain many, more primarily, through extreme storms, of prolonged loss to light and gravity, and are intended to cost, either way, Much less. These structures continue to lack for means of generating oxygen, though are by Tiny-Greenhome, supplied by approximately 1/3 of need, without scrubbing. Sustainability of respiration, continues to seem the benefit of defining abilities to be of honest team, prior to such anomalously-caused weather event, and as efforts, also of my own, continue, with attempt to reorient the consuming force, of such weather, from affecting planet Earth. This means, there may be a way, to honestly survive, even if, at this time, you do not have a job, and this also means, 1.53%, of net revenue, being roughly, between $6,120, and $19,469.

Knowing that the 51% I have explained my own, exists to manage the gross expenses, of complete price, and honest involvement, loyal to America; what this truly means, is that I ultimately wish to give the revenue from this product away, while maintaining my ability to see each Contributor honored; honest American governance, happy; and myself with my own home; to return to working on my more traditional artwork, for having built my Tiny-Greenhome prototype, free and clear of the demand of want to posses my Tiny-Greenhome prototype, dishonestly.

I do carry debts, though believe myself with substantial ability to pay them, either as an artist-- my best year, doing $72,000 in gross sales--- or as would be, from a more modest position, of employee, to another company, while continuing my gardening, and artwork, some of the time.

I do believe us all to be entering a time of great change, though estimate this change, approximately, 10 years away. I believe this could give us all enough time to produce, both, Tiny-Greeenhomes, of my design-- as may accommodate accurate belief, and inaccurate disbelief, of future challenge-- along with designs, of the same mobilized agricultural technologies, my inventing, makes rightly possible to sell-- from almost any standpoint in time.

What I need money for, at this time, to complete the design, presently, is financial, or in-kind, ability, to move to a space, to continue building, that is safe, and away from those seeking to infringe upon my work, and identity. This is as the cost of a place to work on what is the size of car, in other words, and the tow to get it there. Further money, that could be added, is as necessary to mobilize the structure, to what may follow a runner, or walker, without need of regular vehicle, though be as detached, to enable the Tiny-Greenhome to exist without attachment to such weight, and technological change. The plan I have created, to mobilize my Tiny-Greenhome, is as similar to enlargement of a servo motors I first modified as a child, with the help of engineers of SD, and the internet; and that transmission technology, of gear ratios, I studied in college; that could manage to mean what boat engines, on either side, could be locomotion. I have wished make the locomotion of my Tiny-Greenhome, of both electric motors, and combustion engines, alongside each other, and as with combustion engines, re-piped, to burn both alcohol, and unleaded fuels, though, such gearing may begin with either fuel system, based upon my design, and sufficient tools, I no longer have access to, such as a MIG welder, and those components mentioned.

Additional work necessary to imagine before my Tiny-Greenhome is complete, is as finishing the fore-structure, of the Tiny-Greenhome, I have illustrated, and completing the heat-piping, from the inner cook area, along with water-piping, to the three interior growing areas, surrounding the sleeping area-- though as each is situated to avoid, and stratify, any direct contact, of these areas, with the bed.

What would you wish your interest in this company to be, to help me with what I need?

I have very little interest in money, having lived without access to money, for some time. It is difficult, though I prefer what this has allowed me not to make compromise of my moral identity. I have a life I love, and have returned to life, by my lay study, of honest medicine, given injuries, only for doing the honestly right thing. I like partners that are honest, and that do not attempt to obscure the origin of my designs. These type of partners, for me, so far, are either deceased, or, as I have found, more difficult to find, without, yet, having made this public offering, of this product, to venture capitalists, and investors I do not know.

Thank you for considering this business proposition. I am an Alaskan, and wish to move myself, and my prototype, back to Alaska, ultimately, though, at this time, am located in Edgewood, Washington. I believe the ultimate version of my Tiny-Greenhome design to both float, and fly, though do not know what financial position the market wishes to maintain toward my innovation, at this time. I would welcome wish to visit with me, about this project, though choose not to maintain a telecommunication device, at this time, except for calling the police. I may be reached, over email, and would be willing to visit, in person, about what capital investment you may wish make, in exchange for what interest, of any future sales, of my Tiny-Greenhome prototype editions, and as like-designs customers may request! If you would wish to discuss this project with me, please request that I prove my identity, by providing more that one type of proper identification!!! First published 11/09/2024, and as updated, 12/01/2024. To contact me, about this business proposition, please refer to email provided, or as may be found, through contact directed through http://gofund.me/601eb673 Thank you!

MacLean Francis Tiffany

[kvibe-test]

Dual Lives: Thriving Between Work and Artistry

Balancing a full-time job while chasing artistic dreams has been one of the most challenging and fulfilling experiences of my life. My journey into the world of music began nearly out of necessity and passion when an injury put a stop to my baseball career at the age of 19. Since then, I've been living a dual life—working a demanding 9-7 job during the day and transforming into a music producer, songwriter, and engineer during the night. Those sleepless nights from 8 PM to 4 AM became my new normal.

The term “starving artist” often suggests a life filled with financial insecurity and relentless struggle. However, my day job has strategically allowed me to fund my musical endeavors without falling entirely into that stereotype. While many artists are wired to pour their souls into their creativity, some don't quite have the fortune or capability to balance this with a day job, nor the flexibility that I was blessed with in my corporate role. This flexibility allowed me to fund my projects and stay afloat financially.

The Toll of Dual Lives

The double life wasn't without its toll. I signed my fair share of bad contracts out of sheer desperation, just like any other artist who might not give off the aura of desperation but feels it intensely. I recall countless arguments over the phone, trying to free myself from predatory contracts. The music industry is riddled with sharks ready to pounce on any ounce of vulnerability.

Despite the misconceptions, having a stable income doesn’t shield you from these struggles. It was quite the learning curve—a journey of nights filled with music production and days packed with corporate workloads, leading to eventual burnouts. I'd often think, “How many more hours can I sustain this balance?” Finances might keep the lights on, but passion is what keeps you working through the small hours.

Navigating the Industry

My nine-to-five job, or more realistically, my nine-to-seven job, often felt like a safety net. It wasn’t just about paying bills but also about giving me the leverage to make choices that wouldn’t come from a place of complete desperation. Still, similar to other artists, understanding business became vital to avoid being taken advantage of. I remember being wary of the financial jargon and the tediousness of maintaining records—tasks that felt entirely orthogonal to the creative process itself.

In today’s artistic landscape, success comes from a marriage between creativity and understanding, or at least getting by with, the business side of things. Many artists don't want to—or simply can't—dive into the less glamorous side of being an artist which involves QuickBooks, spreadsheets, and Customer Lifecycle Management (CLM) systems. I get it because I was that way too. But staying knowledgeable at least at a basic level can prevent an artist from blindly turning everything over to someone only to be taken advantage of.

Redefining Success

The definition of success varies with each individual. For many, success entails financial prosperity, but for artists, true success is often rooted in happiness and fulfillment in what they do. A talented artist living in a garage but brimming with contentment might be just as successful as a big-name star gracing international stages. It’s about the emotional satisfaction derived from their work that defines success for many artists.

Unfortunately, the lack of appreciation for the arts by the broader public doesn’t help. People binge-watch movies and stream music that artists have poured their hearts into but aren't always willing to pay for it. This disconnect affects the value of creative works and, consequently, the financial well-being of artists. The dichotomy of art being seen as both essential and non-essential creates a curious conundrum for artists striving to make a living.

In the end, maintaining this balance between my day job and my passion for music has redefined success for me. It’s no longer just about making it big or earning millions. It’s about ensuring I continue to fuel my passion while maintaining a sustainable lifestyle. Balancing these worlds isn’t just a survival tactic; it’s a strategy to keep the flame of creativity burning without it burning you out in the process.

#artistlife #musicproduction #balancingwork #creativelife #artandwork