#but I at least prevented a full on binge

[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?!

[writtenbyan-aries]

do you think you could write about Zach and reader trying for a baby and eventually being pregnant when least expected? I really wanna domesticat that man😂😂

No I totally get what you mean 😭 I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, pregnancy talk, breeding kink?, trying to get pregnant, kissing, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (fem rec), filth with fluff

Word Count: 3.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It was no secret that you and your husband were trying to get pregnant.

Always running off when you can to have sex, being late to things because of having sex, leaving early.

There’s a lot of sex.

But, there’s also a lot of negative tests and nights where you’re questioning if it was you, or him, or just the universe giving you a big F you.

Zach was very understanding and did his best at consoling you. Always picking you up when you were down, delivering food to your house while he was at the studio filming for the podcast.

He was always there, no matter if he was actually physically there or not.

Last month, you got yet another negative when you were so hopeful of getting a positive, but all you got was your period a few days after.

You both want nothing more than to start your little family just like you planned.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Zach walks into the bedroom, “I’m going in.” You feel him crawl up onto the bed and kiss your cheek, “Are you sure you don’t want to come in with me?”

You nod, “Yeah. I’m just.. gonna rot in bed all day.” You roll over and smile up at him, “I’ll be fine. I have a full day of binge watching YellowJackets.”

“Do you want me to stay home?”

You shake your head, “If I need you, I’ll call you.”

He licks his lips, “How many days until your ovulation?”

“Um..” you roll over and grab your phone, going into your period tracker app, “about five days out, give or take.”

He gives you a look and you smirk, “Won’t you be late? It’s already one thirty.”

“I don’t have to be there until two fifteen-ish.. you up for a little baby makin’ time?” He bites his lip and you roll your eyes, “Um.. always.”

You pull him down, taking his hat off of his head as your lips move with his.

His hand pushes your shirt up, sliding under it to knead your boob, earning a moan from you, “There we go.” He whispers, “I love those sounds.”

You smile, tilting your head back as he kisses down your neck.

He slides down, sitting up as he grips your pajama shorts and pulls them down off your hips as you lift them.

He does the same to your panties and you bite your lip as he undoes his jeans, his eyes staying on you.

You spread you legs, reaching out for him as he leans forward, his arm holding up his weight by your head, “I’m going to put a baby inside of you.”

He reaches down, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds, “I promise.”

You gasp as he slips in, your legs tightening around his waist as he moans lowly in your ear, “M’gonna get you so pregnant.”

You nod as you turn your head towards him, breathing out, “Please.”

His lips attach to yours, groaning against them as his thrusts are slow and deep to start, but quickly build up into a quick pace.

Your back arches off the bed, you moans filling the room as he hits that one spot each time, “Fuck, fuck, right there!” You tangle your fingers in his hair, “Fuck, Zach.”

“Come on, mama.” He groans, planting kisses back your jaw, “Cum for me.”

You squeeze his cock, your body arching as you come undone around him. You tense up, legs twitching, and moans repeatedly ripping from your throat as he guides you through your high.

“Goddamn..” Zach moans, “Fuck.”

You tug his hair, kissing his lips and taking his bottom one between your teeth which makes him gasp.

He reached down, taking your one leg and hooking it over his arm, the new angle allowing him to thrust into you deeper.

He kisses your lips, moaning against them as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His thrusts slow down and he holds himself there to prevent anything from leaking out.

“It’ll work, sweetheart. All good things take time.” He pecks your lips and gets up. You spin around as he redresses himself and you put your legs up on the wall.

You look over at him and he’s looking at you with his head tilted.

You laugh, “It’s supposed to keep everything rolling the way it’s supposed to.” You shrug, looking up at the ceiling, “I don’t know. I’m desperate.”

Zach walks over and leans down, “You do what you gotta do.” He smirks, “I love you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, “text call if you need anything, alright?”

You nod, “I love you. Have a good day, baby.”

You hear him leave and you let out a sigh, mumbling to yourself, “Please let this work.”

A little later on, you found yourself doing exactly what you told Zach you were going to do. Rot in bed and watch tv.

Your phone dings and you pick it up, seeing a text from Zach that makes you smile, Is my girl okay?

You answer back, sending him a selfie of you in bed wearing his sweatshirt, Doing as I said I would be doing lol.

You rest your phone in your lap, waiting for his text that comes through rather quickly, Look at that cutie patootie. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?

You smile, tilting your head as you type, Just bring something home with you, babe. I made something before I got back into bed so I can wait.

He shouldn’t be too much longer, as of right now you just wanted to be with him.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Baby!” Zach calls as he walks through the front door, “I’m home!”

“Living room.” You call out, sniffling as you try to make it look like you weren’t crying, but you fail, and Zach picks up on it right away.

“Whoa, hey.” He drops everyone on the end of the couch and walks over to you, “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

He sits down next to you, his arms opening to welcome you into his body, “I’m right here.”

You lay your head against his chest, sniffling as you try not to cry. He runs his hand over your head, “It’s okay, y/n. I got you.” He presses a kiss to your head, “I got you.”

“I just.. I don’t..” you sob, your hand gripping his shirt as you gasp for air, “I just want to give you the family you want.”

“Hey, hey.” He reaches down, his hands holding either side of your head, “Listen to me, you’re who my main focus is on right now and it will forever be on you and eventually, when the time comes, you’ll have to share that with whatever we have..”

He smiles as you laugh, “I know..”

“You’re the most important thing to me, okay? I’m here whenever you need me. Whatever you need, I will move mountains for you.” Zach raises his brows, “I’m here, and I’m not nor plan to be going anywhere.”

He kisses you in between words, “No.. matter.. what.”

“I love you. Sorry for being such a big bawl baby.”

“I love you.” He smirks, wiping away your tears, “Snot and all.”

“Oh my god.” You reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your face, “I’m sorry.”

He chuckles as he shakes his head, “Don’t be. Okay. Why don’t we go for a drive or something? Hmm. Get your mind off things?”

“As long as we don’t go into anywhere public, I’m in.”

He nods, “Sounds like you got yourself a deal.”

You lean in, kissing his lips a few times, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You probably wouldn’t be with someone who’s as handsome or hilarious as me, but it’s fine. We won’t talk about that.” He smirks, pecking your lips, “Come on.”

You spend the late afternoon into the evening driving around. You went and parked at the overlook, watching the ocean crash against the shore as you ate dinner.

He talked about his podcast today and what all went on. You filled him in on the show you started to watch.

It was overall a very good distraction.

“So.. I think we should go home soon..” you turn your head as you rest it against the headrest, “or we can do it here. Up to you.”

He laughs, “Can you wait until we get home?”

You sigh, giving him a smirk, “I guess so.”

He reaches over to take your hand as he starts driving, “I think we’re trying too hard, babe.”

You nod, “I agree.”

“I think, you should start posting content again, or even just come to the studio with me. Socializing might be good, it’ll keep your mind off things.”

“I hate when you’re right.” You smile and he nods, “I know right. Doesn’t happen very often.”

You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze, “I know. Soak it in while you can.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

A few more weeks goes by, and yet another negative tests.

“That’s it.” You groan as you toss the stick into the trash, “I give up.”

Zach tightens his arms around your waist, “Maybe it was too early, baby.. we can test against in a few days.”

You rest your head back onto his shoulder, “Maybe I’ll just stop testing. The universe clearly has it out for me. I don’t know why.”

You take a deep breath, “Let’s just.. I don’t know. Don’t let me stay on the couch or in bed all day.” You go to walk away but Zach pulls you back into him, “It’s okay.”

“You’ve said that.” You were clearly feeling everything, but Zach wasn’t letting it get to him, “I know I’ve said that, and I’ll keep saying it until you finally understand that it is really okay.”

You stay silent, looking down as tears fall.

He tilts your chin up, “Sweetheart. It’ll happen. Okay. I promise you, one way or another, we will have ourselves an itty bitty little baby.”

You smile, quickly swiping away your tears, “I know. I know. I just want it to happen now.”

“I know, me too. But there isn’t anything we can do. It gets tiring, annoying. Stupid.” He laughs which makes you laugh, “This waiting game is overrated.”

He nods, “But it’s what we need to do. I promised you I’m going to put a baby in you, and I’m keeping that promise.”

His hands slide to your hips, “even if it won’t do anything..” he smirks, “practicing never hurt, right?”

You tilt your head back as he kisses up your neck, “What do you say? Wanna let me take care of you?”

You bite down on your lip, “please.”

He lifts you up onto the counter and lifts your shirt up over your head, tossing it to the floor. You rock side to side as you push your sweats and underwear down over your hips and thighs.

He drops down to the floor, pulling them off fully before pushing your knees apart. His lips connect with your clit and you gasp, your hand flying to the wall and your other to his head.

His tongue swirls and flicks against you, earning moan after moan with each stroke, “F-fuck..”

Your breathing grows more rapid the closer he gets to your center. His tongue pulling out and pushing in causes your legs to close as the pleasure rolls through you.

His hands push your thighs apart, holding them open as he keeps working, pulling whines and whimpers from your lips.

You roll your hips forward, your fingers pulling and tugging his hair as you reach the edge of full frontal pleasure.

“Z-Zach..” you whine out, “So- so close!”

Your heel digs into his upper back, pushing him closer and you cum, “Fuck, fuck.”

His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs as he guides you through with a moan of his own.

He glances up at you, enjoying the sight of your body jolting with each rub of his tongue on your clit.

“So fucking sexy.” He groans as he stands up, his hands moving to push down his own sweats, “I fuckin’ love you.”

His lips crash onto yours as his arm hooks under your leg and holds it up. He cock slides into you with ease, and you swallow each others moans.

His thrusts are slow, caring.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your neck, “You feel so good, baby. So good.”

You whimper against his lips, the walls of your soaked cunt squeezing around his cock, “A-Again..” you moan out, “Fuck.”

You pull him closest, his thrusts picking up just a tad as he brings you to the brink of a second orgasm, “Oh fuck.. fuck..”

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Zach kisses down your neck, “I got you.”

He guides you through your second high and you feel his cock twitch, pushing deep inside of you as he cums with a moan, “Fuck, fuck.”

You lean back, resting against the mirror as he pulls out, reaching over to grab a towel to clean you up with, “Feel better?” He glances up at you and you smile, “Might just have to keep doing that all day everyday.”

“Oh girl, you’re going to kill me.” He laughs and drops the towel. He pulls his sweats up and grabs yours after he helps you down off the counter.

“I can’t do that.” You tease, “I need ya.”

“Yeah you do.” He smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “What do you want to do today?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It took a lot, but you didn’t focus on getting pregnant as much as you did within last few.

Thanks to Zach, he was able to plan things and keep your mind as occupied as he possibly could.

You really did mean it when you said you didn’t know what you’d do without him, probably sit home and go stir crazy.

You managed to post more to your socials, finish and edit a YouTube video, and just overall, you didn’t feel as miserable as you did dwelling on something you just could not control.

“You coming with me today?” Zach asks as he pops his head into the bathroom. You nod, “I am, just finishing getting ready.”

“You look beautiful.”

You look over at him, giving him a small smile, “Thank you.”

“I mean, it. You look like you’re glowing.”

You don’t think anything of it. You just smile and shake your head, “It’s the not worrying about stuff that’s out of our control.”

He smiles, “I’m happy to see you happy.”

You walk over, kissing his lips, “Let’s go.”

You spent the day with Zach at the studio. You talked with Alyssa about the journey and how frustrating it was, but you haven’t been focusing on that as much.

“You’re going to be the best mom, y/n. I’m so happy that you’ve cut yourself some slack.” She says giving you a smile, “I’m hoping that when it does happen, it’ll kinda mellow that one out.”

She points to Zach and he rolls his eyes, “Keeping secrets won’t make you friends.”

“Who said I was keeping a secret?” She laughs and he scoffs, “My wife will tell me all about it later.”

“I’ll tell you right now.” Alyssa laughs, “I said, I hope you having a kid will mellow your ass out.”

“Doubtful.” Zach laughs and you roll your eyes, “I agree with him.”

As you’re sitting next to Alyssa while the podcast is being filmed, you can’t help but stare at Zach, thinking about seeing him in dad mode.

Him holding a tiny new born baby, gently bouncing them in his arms as they drift off to sleep.

You were so excited for it to happen, but you also kept reminding yourself that good things take time and it’ll happen when it happens.

You get a notification on your phone that your period is supposed to start today, but you brush it off. Clearing the notification from your screen and your mind.

You jump in on the conversation, leaning in to talk into Alyssa’s mic, and it was just overall a good day.

On the ride back home, Zach’s thumb is stroking the back of your hand, “You have a good day?”

“It’s always a good day when you bring your wife to work, is it not?” You laugh as he nods, “I wish I could do it everyday. Oh wait.” He looks over at you, “I can.”

You smile, nodding your head, “You sure can.” You sigh, “I have to pee again. I literally just went before we left.”

He laughs, “We’re almost home, baby.”

You get out of the truck, making your way up to the door. Zach follows behind you, reaching around to unlock the door, “Go ahead.”

You walk in, and head straight for the bathroom.

As you walk in, the box with one pregnancy test left in it catches your eye. You shake your head, sighing as you know the results will only be a one line answer.

But you take it anyway, and the cycle begins.

You rest the used test on the counter after snapping the cap back on. You finish up, walking over to wash your hands and your jaw drops.

“Zach! Zach!” You let the water run and open the door, “Zach! Zach!”

“What!? What!? What!?” He comes rushing in, stopping when he sees the test on the counter, “No way.”

You nod, “Oh.” You reach forward to turn off the water and he grabs your hand, “Oh god please tell me that’s water.”

“Yeah, I got too exited to dry my hands.” You pick up the test, “That’s.. two lines, correct?”

“Yeah, baby. That is two lines indeed.” Zach looks at you, “We finally did it.”

“We finally did it!” He cheers as he lifts you up, “we’re going to have a baby.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight, “We’re finally pregnant.”

You lean back, kissing him multiple times, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He smirks, pressing kisses onto your face, “I love you so much more.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Nine months later

“How are you feelin’ mama?” Zach asks softly as he sits down next to you. Your eyes scan over the swaddled newborn in his arms and you look up at him, “I’m so good.”

He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder, “We finally did it.”

He smiles, nodding his head before resting it on yours, “You did this, baby.”

“She’s our baby.” You laugh slightly, “she looks so much like you.”

“I think she looks so much like you.” Zach looks from the baby girl to you, “She’s beautiful, just like you.”

After a moment of you both sitting and staring at the sleeping baby in his arms, he starts to chuckle lightly, “I know.. this isn’t the time or place to say it, but I don’t think I’ll ever get the imagine of her coming out out of my head.”

You cover your mouth as you laugh, “I was waiting for that.”

“Sorry. I just..” he sighs, shaking his head, “Had to say that.”

You run your hand up and down his back, “Are you ready for another one?”

Zach turns his head, “If we didn’t have to wait a few weeks I’d say yes.”

“Shut up.” You laugh, letting out a content sigh, “I love you, and I love her.”

“I love you both more than you can ever imagine.” He smiles and purses his lips. You smile and lean in, gently pressing your lips to his, “It’s time for her to eat.”

“How do you-“

The baby starts stirring and starts to fuss.

“Told you.”

Zach shakes his head as he hands you your baby girl, “You continue to amaze me.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all sooo much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[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.

[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.

[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

[recoverywithgh0ul]

Welcome back to the second installment offfffff what i eat in a day >o< (hopefully with some pictures)

Again basic TW for mentions of food and thoughts related to food~ also please apply the disclaimer from my last post to this one,, my body is not your body, and please provide it with what you need~/lh

(So generally speaking the last couple of days the night before I’ve kinda sat down a predetermined what i was going to have the next day, big three wise. I’ve noticed this helps me a tooonnnnn, especially since sometimes when i don’t know what to make i can grab something quick and easy, or possibly order in :/ also, I’m prewriting this part at like 4:11 am bc i can’t sleep lmao. )

Breakfast~

Okay, so for breakfast i had/am having right now lol, one egg on toast with cottage cheese, topped with chili crisp. As a side i have some tomato, and some air fried potatoes. Oh, and the dip is ranch.

(I like to put it in this portion plate both because it’s honestly adorable, and because it helps me feel fuller since, as I’ve mentioned in another post, I’m a volume eater. So plating it like this, for me can control my portions and honestly just make things a whole bunch easier because i usually have a problem over serving myself. This will not work for everyone, my portions will not be equal to everyone’s, but i can assure you, i am eating until I’m full and satisfied. Which on that note can be kinda scary. This morning was kinda rough, I wasn’t able to fall back asleep so i kinda struggled with that hunger feeling until around 6 and then just got sick of it, so i made a coffee with protein powder to hold me over to a “acceptable time for breakfast” knee jerk reaction on this thought? Stupid. Like, there’s no acceptable time to eat, you eat when your body needs food. Compassionate thought? You had a bad morning, everyone does. Good thing about it, is even though it might’ve been delayed and you went through some hurdles, you still ate, and that’s a victory in itself. Recovery is a beast, but I’m determined to show it, I’m stronger.)

Snack~

Okay, so snack, some dried pineapple, and saltines with PB and pumpkin pie seasoning. Pretty good honestly 8/10( i ended up only eating eating two of the crackers, but all of the fruit)

(I hated that i was hungry, plain and simple, but i owe it to my body to eat- and it’s not a bad thing to have a snack. Am i internally freaking bc i have no idea how many this or that and- it goes on, yes, yes i am. But, it’s what i wanted, it’s not over board, and in the long run taking care and honoring my hunger now, will prevent a binge in the future. <3 )

Snack~

Piece of habanero cheese, and two of those PB crackers from earlier made into a sandwich(like put together), no pics bc I’m lazy. I’ll do my best to get a pic for lunch tho~

(Today is proving to be a wacky day to say the least, i do want to preface this and say, all my days are NOT like this. But at this point it might seem like I’ll be eating lunch a little later in the day, so im going to have another small snack to tide me over, because that’s what my body deserves, and I’m honoring my hunger >.< for context i have to get groceries delivered because i don’t drive, and they were taking longer than expected- so yeah :/ )

Lunch~

For lunch i had a honey turkey wrap, with a side of sweet bell peppers, chips, and a dollop of ranch for dipping. Super simple, super easy, and super filling. Also helped me battle a craving for fast food, so extra feeling of accomplishment :>

(So groceries finally got here, chaos adverted, lunch has been made and eaten 10/10 the only thing with this meal is just the pure anxiety that feeling full has left. Did i over indulge? No, i ate until i was full, which is perfectly okay and normal. Today really is a day of pushing. My limits and just for lack of better words, being okay with it.)

Dinner~

Chili crisp oil garlic soup with rice, drizzled with garlic spicy sauce

(For dinner i was having really strong cravings to binge honestly, i think the stress just generally from the day is starting to get to me. To combat this, im going to partake in a coping skill to distract myself, most likely writing :> )

Snack~

PB toast with some type of topping(not sure if i want sweet or savory yet >.<)

(For snack I’m going to leave it as a option for myself, so i know I’ll be full through the night, to avoid whatever this morning was :/)

Drinks~

Protein powder with iced coffee

Aloe coconut drink with a bit of a strawberry peach crystal light flavoring packet

Aloe pineapple drink

Water throughout the day

So that was another complete what i eat in a day, today was definitely different, and 100% more stressful, but overall, I’m trying to create healthy eating habits, and eating healthy is eating in moderation, and i can still do that, and feel happy with my food choices both in a satisfied way, and my body getting what it needs way~

I hope if you’re reading this, you have a great day/night, stay strong, and love yourself~ and remember recovery is never hard, but it’s always worth it,,/g /lh

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (713): Wed 28th Feb 2024

Spent the day binging more of the Comedy Central run of Futurama and it's striking how much the quality of the gags improved during this first revival. Futurama was always a funny show but it feels like every episode post-revival has had at least one laugh out loud moment. My favourite episode so far from seasons six to eight is from the episode The Late Phillip J Fry where Fry, Bender and the Professor are travelling forwards in time to look for a civilization that has invented a backwards time machine so they can return to the year 3007. They stop off at a year where the robots have taken over, killed all the humans and arranged all their decayed skulls and bones into monuments and mountains. Fry and the Professor sensing the threat quickly propel the trio forwards in time and land in a time period where beautiful women have taken over and have also invented a backwards time machine. However Bender, annoyed at his co-workers for taking them away from the robot rules time period, propels them even further into the future. When Fry angrily reminds Bender that the women had what they were looking for Bender replies "The robot world had some nice things too. Did you even see that mountain of skulls?". It's a beautifully, well layered and superbly written scenario with an incredibly payoff and Futurama has been full of moments like this since it came back after those braindead fuckwits at FOX cancelled them. I don't know if this is due to a shakeup and influx of new / additional writers or maybe on Fox there were certain people who were preventing certain jokes from making it on screen. It might also be that during the four years that the show was off the air the writers had more time to come up with ideas should the show ever return and didnt have the pressure of constant looming deadlines. Whatever the reason for the improvement I'm glad it happened as the world is definitely a happier place when some Futurama is around and I can't wait to see this latest revived series. I re-watched the documentary movie Super Size Me where journalist / sex pest Morgan Sperlock undertakes an "experiment" to see what will happen to him if he eats nothing but McDonalds for 30 days. Personally I don't understand how this ever got greenlit because if somebody pitched to me that they wanted me to give them a load of money so they could document the consequences of eating unhealthy food and refraining from exercise for a month I would more than likely say "Well you'll probably get really fat". You don't need to make a movie to show people that eating too many Big Macs will make you gain weight. Does he expect McDonalds to start following the casino method of having all their customers select the maximum amount they are allowed to spend every week / month / year. I'm aware of how unhealthy the food from McDonalds is but I dare say that if you decide to eat exclusively only one kind of food for an entire month it will more than likely fuck you up (unless it was grapefruit, that would probably finish you off after about three days). Maybe the reason Spurlock wanted to make the documentary was because he was so broke that he couldn't afford food and he figured that convincing a movie studio that Super Sized Me could function as an important societal study would allow him to stuff his face for an entire month. A few years ago Spurlock admitted to inappropriate sexual behavior and hasn't really worked since but it was never divulged what the inappropriate behavior was. My guess is that consuming so much McDonalds has affected his mental state so much that he forces his lovers to dress up as Ronald McDonald while he fucks them.

[speed-seo]

Demystifying Tracking and Attribution for SEO

If you're an SEO in 2023, you know the struggle is real when it comes to tracking website traffic and attributing it to marketing channels. As privacy regs tighten up and strategies spread across social, email, ads, and more, stitching together a customer's journey feels like a game of whack-a-mole. Without clear visibility into how people find and convert on your site, how can you confidently optimise efforts and prove ROI? Marketing attribution has turned into a hot mess. In this guide, we'll unpack the key tracking and analytics challenges facing SEOs today, with practical tips to: - See more complete cross-channel customer journeys - Continue attribution despite limited data - Accurately model multi-touch contributions - Make sense of fragmented data With smarter tracking strategies and multi-source analytics, you can bust through attribution roadblocks and optimise ROI across your integrated marketing efforts. Read on to level up your analysis. Funneling Cross-Channel Interactions "It's getting harder to see how much time customers spend with our brand across channels," said analytics consultant Brie Anderson. With all the social scrolling, video binges, and ad clicks out there, lots of touchpoints happen off your site. Anderson's advice? Funnel peeps back to your owned website to connect the data dots. "It's easier to analyse strategies when we drive traffic to our site." 🏆 Pro Tip: Use your site as the hub to capture cross-channel interactions. Think "all roads lead to site." Marketing consultant Irina Serdyukovskaya stressed that your website is the one channel completely in your control as a marketer. Guide social and ad clicks back so you can see complete journeys. "Encourage visitors to engage with content and contact pages to get to know your brand," she said. This builds familiarity, so they recognise you across channels. Unifying Multi-Channel Tracking PPC expert Navah Hopkins urged implementing clear UTM campaign tracking parameters for unified attribution. With limited ad click data, UTMs allow continued channel ID. "Get a UTM tagging structure in place if you don’t have one," she said. "Make sure your whole marketing team sticks to the scheme." 🏆 Pro Tip: Create a universal UTM tagging convention for paid, organic, email, social campaigns. Get full team buy-in to prevent data conflicts. Brie Anderson also recommended aligning on naming conventions across channels. Even small inconsistencies can break tracking and attribution. Document your tagging plan before launching campaigns to safeguard data. Overcoming Privacy Limitations New privacy regulations increasingly restrict marketing data collection and tracking. Irina Serdyukovskaya said cookie consent banners are essential now for GDPR and CCPA compliance. However, many block more data than legally required. Navah Hopkins noted iOS 14.5+ limits on ad click IDs make UTMs more essential. Though third-party data is restricted, exempt channels like email and SMS remain open. 🏆 Pro Tip: Work with a privacy lawyer or consultant to minimise legal data blocks. Take advantage of exempt marketing channels for attribution. Attribution Modelling Cautions With multiple touchpoints involved, which gets credit for conversions? Navah warned against solely relying on default attribution models without enough data. "I don't trust models until minimum volume thresholds are met," she said. For paid ads, that's at least 15 conversions in 3 days. 🏆 Pro Tip: Verify you have sufficient conversion volume before using automated attribution models. Supplement with your own CRM analysis. Brie Anderson suggested comparing models in Google Analytics from varied perspectives. See what aligns with other data sources. No single model gives the full picture. Making Sense of Fragmented Data With data spread across tools, how do you get an accurate overview? Irina stressed first ensuring you collect the right metrics properly. Invalid setups undermine data-driven decisions. She recommended comparing numbers from multiple sources, like your CRM and analytics, for a more complete picture. Look for statistically significant correlations. 🏆 Pro Tip: Audit and document how key metrics are captured before acting on the data. Cross-check data points from different tools to fill gaps. Pulling It All Together As search marketers, we now operate in a complex landscape. With users mobile-hopping between apps and sites, new marketing channels opening, and regulations limiting tracking, attribution grows more perplexing daily. Yet solid SEO demands clear analytics. The way forward is adaptability. To retain visibility into complete journeys: - Funnel media and ads back to your owned site to connect data. - Implement universal UTM tagging conventions across channels. - Use exempt channels like email, SMS, and TikTok. - Verify enough conversions before trusting attribution models. - Audit tracking setups and compare multi-source data. With coordination across channels, manual analysis, and monitoring statistical significance, we can still see insightful customer journeys despite the fragmentation. Strengthen your analytics and optimise marketing ROI through improved attribution. The solutions are within reach if you learn to leverage compliant options, unify data flows, and apply human insight. With flexibility and best practises, savvy SEO pros can stay ahead of the analytics curve. Read the full article

[mr-divabetic]

I'm thinking of Luther on the anniversary of his passing. He changed my life twice. In 1995 he moved me from San Francisco to New York City to become his full-time assistant.  It was a dream come true for a kid who loves entertainment from Rochester, NY, without professional connections.  In 2003, I became his caregiver after he suffered a stroke due to mismanaged type 2 diabetes which led me on a path as a diabetes advocate. My lack of knowledge regarding my grandmother's diabetes and self-care dismissed concerns I might have had that mismanaged diabetes could destroy someone's quality of life and health until it was too late. Calling diabetes 'a touch of sugar' is like saying a Great White shark is a  Goldfish. Luther was a generous, kind, funny, and hugely talented man. But sadly, I witnessed him struggle with food addiction. In reflection, I feel Luther's behavior was similar to other addicts. He was either sober, abstaining from carbohydrates, or using, binge eating. No one talks about food addiction as they discuss or glorify drug use. But in my opinion, Luther was wrestling with a monster just as powerful and seductive as cocaine. Unfortunately, he lost the battle. He felt trapped in his body, and it caused him physical, mental, and emotional heartache. But that's not the whole story. Luther was a complex, multi-dimensional man, just like a multi-dimensional artist who was a  successful songwriter, producer, vocal arranger, and vocalist. On many of his biggest hits, he showcases all of these skills. The first time I met him, the sheer magnitude of his talent blew me away.  He embodied the American Dream to me. He never had a Plan B because he felt if he did, then he wouldn't pursue his dream. His bravery has influenced my life decisions and given me the strength to pursue my dreams. Every July 1st, I renew my desire to help those at risk, affected by, and living with diabetes to 'keep their house a home' by learning to delay or prevent a mismanaged diabetes complication such as stroke.   Enjoy Divabetic's Annual Luther Vandross Tribute podcast guests, including Lisa Fischer, Jason Miles, Jeff James, Patricia Addie-Gentle RN, CDCES, and Chuck Flowers. By the time Luther Vandross headed to the studio to record his fifth album, Give Me the Reason, in 1986, he’d become one of the most successful soul singers of the first half of the eighties. His four previous albums have been either certified platinum or double-platinum in America. Luther Vandross’s fifth album, Give Me the Reason, comprised nine tracks, including the hits: So Amazing, There's Nothing Better Than Love, Stop To Love and Give Me The Reason. We chose to spotlight this album because this is the first time Luther showcased his 100-pound weight loss on the album's cover. He was not able to maintain or sustain the weight loss. Luther lost and gained at least a hundred pounds more than eight times while I worked for him. We're discussing yo-yo dieting, self-love, and the power of positive talk can help you overcome feelings of failing or self-loathing related to body shape and size. Throughout the podcast, we will feature music from Luther Vandross's Give Me The Reason album courtesy of SONY Music. Link: https://www.blogtalkradio.com/divatalkradio1/2021/04/13/luther-vandross-tribute-podcast

[fitladyzone]

How to Achieve Sustainable Weight Loss

Many people who want to lose weight fall into the trap of looking for quick fixes and miracle solutions. They may try to follow fad diets, extreme calorie restriction, or unrealistic exercise routines that promise to shed pounds in a matter of weeks or even days. These methods are not only ineffective in the long run, but also harmful to health and well-being.

The truth is that there is no shortcut to weight loss. Losing weight and keeping it off requires a gradual and consistent approach that involves making small changes in diet and activity over time. These changes should be realistic, enjoyable, and aligned with one's personal goals and preferences. By doing so, one can achieve sustainable weight loss that improves health and quality of life.

In this post, we will discuss some of the key principles of sustainable weight loss and how to apply them in your daily life.

Set SMART goals. SMART stands for Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound. A SMART goal is a clear and realistic statement of what you want to achieve and how you will measure your progress. For example, instead of saying "I want to lose weight", a SMART goal would be "I want to lose 10 pounds in 3 months by reducing my calorie intake by 500 calories per day and exercising for 30 minutes 5 times a week". A SMART goal helps you stay focused, motivated, and accountable.

Eat mindfully. Mindful eating is the practice of paying attention to your hunger and fullness cues, your emotions, and your food choices. It helps you avoid overeating, emotional eating, and binge eating. To eat mindfully, you should:

Eat slowly and savor every bite.

Avoid distractions such as TV, phone, or computer while eating.

Stop eating when you are comfortably full, not stuffed.

Choose foods that are nutritious, satisfying, and enjoyable.

Listen to your body and respect its needs.

Balance your plate. A balanced plate is one that contains a variety of foods from different food groups: vegetables, fruits, whole grains, lean protein, healthy fats, and dairy or alternatives. A balanced plate provides you with all the nutrients you need for optimal health and energy. It also helps you control your portions and calories. A simple way to balance your plate is to use the following guidelines:

Fill half of your plate with vegetables and fruits.

Fill a quarter of your plate with whole grains such as brown rice, quinoa, oats, or whole wheat bread.

Fill the remaining quarter of your plate with lean protein such as chicken, fish, eggs, beans, or tofu.

Add a small amount of healthy fats such as olive oil, nuts, seeds, or avocado.

Include a serving of dairy or alternatives such as milk, yogurt, cheese, or soy milk.

Move more. Physical activity is essential for weight loss and overall health. It helps you burn calories, build muscle, strengthen bones and joints, improve mood and mental health, reduce stress and anxiety, and prevent chronic diseases. The recommended amount of physical activity for adults is at least 150 minutes of moderate-intensity or 75 minutes of vigorous-intensity aerobic activity per week, plus muscle-strengthening activities on two or more days per week. Some examples of moderate-intensity activities are brisk walking,cycling,swimming, or dancing. Some examples of vigorous-intensity activities are running, jogging, hiking or skipping rope. Some examples of muscle-strengthening activities are lifting weights, doing push-ups, squats or planks.

You don't have to do all your physical activity at once. You can break it up into smaller sessions throughout the day. For example, you can do 10 minutes of walking in the morning, 10 minutes of cycling in the afternoon, and 10 minutes of dancing in the evening. You can also find ways to incorporate more movement into your daily routine, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator, parking farther away from your destination, or walking or biking instead of driving.

Be patient and positive. Sustainable weight loss takes time and effort. It's not a linear process; there will be ups and downs along the way. Don't get discouraged by temporary setbacks or fluctuations in your weight. Instead, focus on the positive changes you are making in your lifestyle and celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may seem. Remember that you are doing this for yourself and for your long-term health and happiness.

Sustainable weight loss is possible if you follow these principles and make them part of your everyday life. You don't have to deprive yourself or follow strict rules to lose weight. You just have to make smart choices and enjoy the journey.