#i am moving in a month so I'm going to focus my efforts more for the next two weeks so its not such a difficult transition later

[spitefulfitness]

Most of my state is in a heat advisory and it was fine when I started walking, but once I switched to running it got too hot so I cut it at a mile. If it cools off this evening, I'll go for a longer walk to reach my step goal for today.

It's been two months since I last ran due to stress and medical stuff, but I'm glad to back up and (literally) running.

I started adding some yoga too to help my body recover and increase my mobility/flexibility. Ive also been trying to at the very least make it out every day to go for a walk until i reach 8000-10000 steps. I want to try some intermittent fasting but it's a little challenging when my part time summer job involves making catering orders 😬

Glad to be back with it, though! 😊

Sw:188.7

Cw. 181.5

Gw1: 175

Gw4: 145

[wingedjellyfishflight]

The Couch

Your official job is as a psychiatrist, but not a single one of the men who visit you care about that. They don't care about you at all. They just want... your cozy damn couch. Every time you walk in the room, there is a big burly man sleeping or lounging on it. Rarely, it is a woman. This time, there are three of them fighting over it. You sigh and submit a request for three more couches. When the supply officer asks why, you claim it is for group sessions. He sends one couch over. It is almost as comfortable as the original, and they take to it quickly.

You stop in your tracks the day you spot a KorTac man sitting nervously on the couch. So far, only Price's team and his associated strays have taken advantage of the open couch. You smile briefly before moving to sit at your desk.

"I'm here if you want to talk, but the couch is open to whomever wants a nap or to relax. No talking required." He nods, slightly more relaxed, and you focus on your computer. When you look up later, you see he has laid down and fallen asleep, his soft snores filling the room. After that, you send in another request and another for more couches and a couple of reclining chairs. You are denied. They tell you to just bring in folding chairs. You decide to use your paycheck and bring in something more comfortable than folding chairs.

The next week, you are struggling to get a reclining chair down the hall as silently as possible when you freeze, a chill running down your back. Turning, you see Ghost standing only a foot away, silently watching with his arms crossed.

"I got a new chair." Your bright smile seems to just bounce off his broad chest, but you pay no mind to him, turning back to the task at hand. You get a few feet further and glance back to say something witty, but Ghost is gone. Another few feet, and you are bodily lifted by a set of strong arms before Ghost and König pick up the chair and carry it to your office with no effort. You thank them and ask if they would be willing to help you with one more thing since they are here. Rolling their eyes, they follow you.

Proudly, you show them the three large boxes that you bought. The men are not amused. Their body language switches from annoyed to almost angry when you pick up one of the boxes. König nearly tears it from your hands, and Ghost swiftly grabs the second box. Holding up your hands, you wait until they storm inside to pick up the third box and follow them.

It takes most of the day for the stuffing in the giant floor pillows to fluff up from being vacuum packed in the boxes, so you take the time to rearrange the room. The next day, opening the door after lunch, you spot no less than ten men and one woman lounging in various spots around the room.

A few weeks later and Soap asks if you can requisition another chair because he is annoyed that Captain Price is constantly snoring away in the only one. You shake your head sadly.

"Sorry, bud. I can't get another one for a while. Too expensive." He nods but puzzles over your wording for the next few days before filing it in the back of his mind.

It takes another couple months for you to save up, but you do bring in a second chair. Soap nearly dances when he sees it.

"I tried to ask supply for one of these for my office, but they had no idea what I was talking about."

"Oh, they wouldn't. They deem my request too frivolous every time." You tap away at the computer, only half paying attention to Soap.

"Then, how did you convince them?"

"Didn't. Had to go get it myself." The silence that falls over the room is far more tense than usual.

"You, you bought these for us? Like with your own money?" You sigh. Here is the conversation you were hoping to avoid. Turning to Soap, you see every person in the room staring at you, trying to work out what is happening.

"Yes, of course. Nothing but the best for my patients. I am the psychiatrist for KorTac and 141, after all."

"What?! We just, we thought you were just an officer with a comfortable couch. But you're a god damn psychiatrist?!" You can see several edging toward the door, nervously.

"Yep. Ghost, please wait just a moment." He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. "Think about how long you've been napping in here. Have I ever overstepped? Four years I have been assigned to the 141, and not once have I updated your files. Luckily, I can claim patient-doctor confidentiality, or I would be out of a job."

"So, you haven't been doing your job at all?" This comes from Captain Price, who looks confused.

"Oh, I have been. If you don't mind sharing, what is the thing your last psychiatrist kept trying to force you to do, Captain?"

"Fuckin golf. Claimed it would be a good stress relief like I want to be a lazy damn officer."

You nod and glance around. "Ghost, what was your recommendation?"

"God damn yoga." You hear Soap snort and give him a small smile.

"Mmhmm, not something I imagine you would ever be interested in. And you König, if you don't mind?"

His voice is quiet but strong, "Guided meditation."

"Every one of those is rooted in the idea that you need to rest. My job was to find a way to make it happen, and I wasn't keen on being stonewalled and hated by the people I work with. So, I left the door open and passed a rumor around that there was a mythical comfortable couch. Sort of a build it and they will come." You pause and gather your courage. "As I have said from the beginning, talking is optional. Naps and resting are welcome. That's the way it will stay as long as I am here."

Turning back to your computer, you submit another supply request, worded slightly different from the last. A bigger office for more group sessions so both teams can be present. The silence in the room is less tense, but you don't look up from your screen, not wanting to see how many left, knowing who you are now. To your surprise, when you stand up to stretch, every spot is still occupied.

The next week, you get your denial and an inspection scheduled as you haven't been logging apppointments since posted there, and your constant requests have been noticed. The stress shows in the tenseness of your jaw and the furrow between your eyes, but you don't say a word to anyone.

The day of your inspection comes, and you brace yourself for invasive questions and the likely anger from whomever shows up when you refuse to answer those questions. You hint three time and then outright tell the lounging men to leave just minutes before the scheduled appointment, frantically trying to tidy up and make it look like you have adults as patients instead of sleep away camp.

"What is goin' on, lass?" Soap asks lazily from the floor pillow he refuses to vacate.

"I- I have an inspection, like right now." That gets their attention.

"Och aye! We will clear ou-" A knock at the door interrupts him. You take a deep breath, forcing your emotions under a smile.

"Enter." A man confidently walks in, faltering when he sees so many eyes on him.

"I am here to inspect your work, Captain. You were informed as to the time?" Standing, you salute him, then motion him to one of the seats.

"Yes, my apologies, Lieutenant Colonel. This group session ran a little late. If you could excuse us, everyone. We can pick this back up tomorrow. Hopefully." They all stand and salute the Lieutenant Colonel before walking out. He stalks to the chair in front of your desk.

"You will be lucky to make it to the end of the day if I have anything to say about it. You have clearly squandered resources buying all of this furniture, and there isn't a single update to any personnel files. Your explanation better be damn good, Captain."

You meet his gaze squarely before answering. "I am assigned to a unit whose work is often above top secret. I do not take notes on what is said in this room. I have found that doing so makes patients uncomfortable and, therefore, less likely to relax."

"That doesn't explain why you are not charting recommendations." You lean back and pull out a paper from a drawer.

"These are the recommendations previously listed in the files of various patients who are now under my command. Almost all of them fall into the same category: relax. So when I reviewed the files, I notated in the general team file for The 141 that relaxing activities would be undertaken as needed. The KorTac file gained the same note when they were switched to my purvue. There is no need to update individual files when I do my utmost to only hold group sessions, again for comfort to the patients."

He sits back, clearly not convinced, but at least pondering it a moment. "Why did you have KorTac transferred to your care? They were previously under another, frankly more competent, psychiatrist."

"Was that psychiatrist able to get them to open up? Honestly, I am curious if the team even showed up to their sessions by how sparse their files are. Colonel König has been here for six years, and his entire file is less than a dozen pages. The same could be said for nearly all of the KorTac team. There are notations in most of these files that KorTac and The 141 can not be in the same room for more than five minutes at a time without fighting. Yet nearly every day members of both teams are here for upwards of an hour a day, and they haven't had any fights outside of here in months." You snap your jaw shut, noticing the slightest of movement behind the Lieutenant Colonel. You stand and salute.

"Corporal, you've already saluted me. Sit down."

"She is saluting me, not you, Lieutenant Colonel." Colonel König salutes you back as the Lieutenant Colonel grouses about being interrupted before he turns and pales. He hurriedly stands and renders his own salute, which is returned with deliberate slowness.

"Colonel, if I may?" At his nod, you continue. "I did not mean to speak so flippantly of your records. I should have guarded their contents more closely. You have my deepest apologies." His eyes lock with yours, and you could swear he is either smirking or smiling.

"It is of no consequence. I am glad to know that you feel such concern, despite the public nature that such personnel files often suffer during inquests such as these." He pulls up another chair from who knows where and sits just behind the Lieutenant Corporal. "I will monitor to ensure sensitive information about need to know operations is not disclosed."

You nod, "Yes, Colonel. Understood."

The Lieutenant Colonel shifts uncomfortably with the gaze at his back. "Circling back to my first concern. The wasting of British coffers on unnecessary seating is clear gross misconduct. You will need to return all except for the standard single couch immediately."

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. When can you send supply over to fetch the other couch?" He looks surprised, as though he expected more of a fight.

"I will have to confer with them to see when they will be able to take so many large items."

"Hmm? Oh no, only the two couches, desk, computer, and the chair you sit in were issued. The rest I brought in at my own expense to better facilitate having over a dozen soldiers and officers in here at the same time. I do ask to keep the original couch. It is the only one long enough to fit many of the men I treat." He looks shocked.

"You furnished the rest?" You can see him fighting not to look around at the room, hand fidgeting on the desk.

"Of course. Patients come first in my care. Every request I have put in has been denied since the second couch. The number of patients I see has more than doubled with the strays that Captain Price and Colonel König have dragged with them into my office. We are running out of time today. Would you like to meet again next week, or do you have the information needed to close out this inquiry?" The Lieutenant Colonel seems shocked.

"But I have more questions. And you need to answer them."

"I understand that, which is why I am offering another meeting. But you scheduled just one time block for this, and I have others coming in right after. The noise he made was pure frustration, and he let loose without thinking.

"Listen here you cunt! You will not get out of this by claiming an appointment. You will answer my questions until I am satisfied and have enough to properly fuck you over the way you deserve! I-!" A hand claps onto his shoulder, making him wince in pain.

"Lieutenant Colonel Riggs. That is not conduct becoming an officer. You will cease your screaming and see yourself out. Your lack of preparation and knowledge does not permit you to abuse officers of a lower rank. You will join me in my office while we discuss this further." The icy tone has you wincing in sympathy. When the door shuts behind them, you nearly collapse on your desk in relief. After a long moment of fighting the urge to cry, you jolt when a hand rubs your back.

"Ghost, why are you still in my office?"

"Support?" You grunt before looking up at him.

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to have a good cry, so if you need to leave to avoid it, now is a good time." Instead of leaving, he makes you stand and walk to the couch where he tugs you to his chest.

"Cry all you want, Luv. I'm here for you, just like you were for me all those times these past few years."

[midnightblues444]

Lustful afflictions |

Priest nanami x brat! fem reader

Warnings: age gap (readers in her 20s and hes like 30 something), perversion of Christian faith, corruption, m receiving, sacrilege ,

Notes: fell off the face of the earth for 2 months now I'm back so enjoyy <3

Imagine driving priest nanami to temptation and making him lose his mind remembering it all during a prayer for forgiveness

"I confess to my sins of lust" he recounts, knelt in prayer

From the moment you walked into his cathedral he could sense trouble

"the source of my sinful affliction, that of a girl who wondered into my very own church"

You'd giggle in his sermons, and look at him with a sparkle that he couldn't quite place. Your words dripping off your tongue like melted candy, he can only recall how the sound of his name from your lips sent jolts of an unfamiliar feeling through him.

"A walking temptation she was.."

the way you're dresses were always so short and tight, there was disrespect that radiated from your very being yet it wasnt the biggest issue

He could see it when you listen to his sermons, not with intent but with amusement more so seductively studying him, often catching himself losing his focus if he made eye contact with you.

It was most apparent when you came up for communion, staring up at him with doe eyes as you ate the bread slowly, smirking when he couldnt keep the eye contact . Turning back ever so slightly with a giggle as you made way to your seat.

"I repent, I repent"

Hed prided himself on always being a man of honor and more importantly a man of god, hed thus expected the unholy thoughts to go away on their own.

Though he took a concious effort not fall into the temptation you dangled before him and keep composed.

"It was in this very confessional where the affair began"

To his suprise you came to confessional one afternoon. Skipping down toward the box, the apparent click of your heels hitting the tiles of the church floor made his heart pound in his chest.

"She spoke things I'd never heard before, she promised to help me in ways the lord couldnt"

"Lust is natural for all of us isnt it nanami"

He cleared his throat, at the sugary way you said his name

"Lustful thought" you'd sighed, "though I think we all struggle with lust, do we not?"

"I suppose so, but we thus practice abstinence" he replied

"I should've abstained..."

"But do we really need to abstain from what we truly desire" you said , trying to push your luck "I mean I see how you look at me father nanami"

"I am a holy man though how I acted was not a reflection of that"

He slid your side of the confessional door open staring down at you with a faint blush. The priest was undeniably a beautiful man, his defined face and toned body that peaked under his black attire but was noticeably when he fidgeted with his white collar.

"So what do I do about it?"

"Take a seat" you purred

"I wish to repent and continue a life in your light"

He was clutching a rosary while you were on your knees, the priests cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

He barely held it together, muttering forgive me lord under his stuttering breaths. He whined under your every touch, finding himself pleading for release, as the feeling of your throat was warm and unlike anything hed ever felt

begging for more, with his deep grunts as he thrusted unconsciously harder

"Forgive me I have sinned"

"Nggh" he breathed out, while you hummed and massage his balls, cumming down your throat with a deep whine

You wiped your mouth and stand, kissing his cheek sweetly. Straddling him with affection.

"You're not wearing panties" he said bewildered

"Didnt think I'd need em" you giggled as you slowly slid onto him. Both moaning out at the sensation. You began to move slowly adjusting to his girth, his head laid back as he breathlessly panted

"No no, look at me, look how good you make me feel" you said as you gently cupped his cheek

There is something so powerful about unraveling such a large man.

"So tight," he heaved tinted of blush across his face. You grind into your spot, moans filling up the small confessional space.

"Mmm so good, you're doing so good" you purred into his neck

"Forgive me because I find myself addicted to the feeling of her around me"

His thrusts grew sloppy, his grip on your hips stutter

"Forgive me because this addiction has costed me certainty in my faith"

He released into you for the second time, slumping into your plush chest, as you stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Amen"

[pluckyredhead]

Did I just read your Super Sons primer from 2020 at 3 am on a Monday morning because I'm having a real normal one? Maybe?! I'm wondering how you feel about how they and their relationship has developed since then. IMO it's... Pretty bleak. 😩

I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT IT. (Also here's the primer for anyone who missed it.)

So I will say that 95% of everything Jon has been in since he got aged up has been hot garbage, but I do think the exception is when Damian is around. But let's take it from the top!

First of all, I don't necessarily think they should de-age him again. Generally speaking I think it's better storytelling to focus on fixing things moving forward, rather than undoing things moving back. Sure, if DC came up with some big cosmic event that reset Jon to 11, I certainly wouldn't complain, but I'd rather see them, uh...do literally anything with Teen Jon that doesn't suck.

But yeah, aging Jon up to begin with still makes me livid because:

I want my baby to have had a childhood.

It's fully character assassination for Lois and Clark. They would NEVER let their 11-year-old go to outer space with a supervillain. Lois would NEVER just abandon him out there, and Clark would NEVER respond with "Well, I'm sure he's fine, wanna have marathon sex?" I honestly have no idea what Bendis or his editor were thinking.

They have not done a single interesting with him since!!!

Putting this behind a cut because it got LONG. Also spoilers for Beast World in there.

I've said this before, but I have to assume that Bendis wanted to age Jon up because he wanted to write a Legion book. But he also in his wisdom decided to bring Kon back into continuity at exactly the same time, which means we have two nearly identical Superboys that DC didn't and still doesn't know what to do with. Kon clearly couldn't have joined the LOSH because he already had a team, but you know what Super teen was available, and not 11, and who has a history with the Legion that goes back almost as long as Clark's? KARA. But I will save that rant for another day.

And honestly, Kara dodged a bullet, because that Legion book was unreadable. Bendis at his most Bendis-y wall of text interrupt-y conversations and no plot. If I give Tom Taylor any credit it's that the second he got his hands on Jon, he torpedoed Jon/Imra as a ship. GOOD.

And when the LOSH book finally went out with a whimper (that JLA/LOSH miniseries! what was that!!!), we entered the Taylor Era. Taylor's quirks are less stylistic and more narrative than Bendis's. You can spot Bendisian dialogue at twenty paces, but a Taylor comic tips its hand when it sets up a really interesting premise or a really high stakes threat and then immediately undercuts it with a little wet fart noise of nothing. To wit:

Jon's starting college! This will be an interesting challenge for him to readjust to normal life after six years in a torture-volcano and an indeterminate amount of time in the future, and also considering he never graduated from sixth grade. I wonder what will - oh no he dropped out after three pages. (He has done NOTHING in his civilian identity since, btw. I guess he's too busy hovering just behind Dick at all times to work on his GED or whatever.)

Jon is going to confront Ultraman! Finally the comics will have to engage with all the trauma he must have - oh no Ultraman's dead.

Jon is trapped in the Injustice Universe! This is a really dangerous universe that might make him question everything he knows about - oh he just lectured everyone and flounced off home.

Beast World is a perfect example. Taylor seems to think that having a hero effortlessly solve a problem makes them look badass, but it's actually the effort that makes them look badass. So like, we spent five months keeping the Kryptonians and other A-class heroes away from the spores because the spores are attracted to power and if a Super got spore'd everyone would be in big trouble...but then in the last issue, they just have Jon fly up to everyone with a spore in them, wait for the spore to jump at him, and catch it? That doesn't make the Titans look smart or Jon look tough. It makes all of them look like idiots because it it was that easy, why didn't they do that in the first place?

On top of that, Taylor doesn't ever really earn relationships. Jon and Jay is the obvious one. Jay has no personality. There's no chemistry between the two characters. Jon might as well be dating a cardboard cutout labeled "Proof of Queerness." (Or "Bernard." Ahem.) But we're supposed to be like, yes, give Tom Taylor a GLAAD award for using queer characters as props, when he's going to turn around and kiss Chuck Dixon's ass on social for being homophobic about Jon? UGH.

Honestly worse for me though is the Jon and Dick relationship. Because Taylor is writing both characters, we're supposed to believe that there's this close mentor-mentee bond there? I don't think they EVER interacted before the Taylor era. (And don't even look at me with that retconned-in scene of Dick finding lost baby Jon. You're telling me that Superman, with his X-ray and telescopic vision, needs to call Bruce and Dick for help finding his own son? Fuck off.)

Anyway it all combines to make basically every Jon appearance for the past three years profoundly unsatisfying. Even the stuff that isn't by Taylor never goes anywhere. Remember when he was jealous of the Super Twins for two panels? And then everyone forgot about it forever? SIGH.

HOWEVER.

However.

If there is one thing that Bendis and Taylor and every other writer got right, it's that Jon is crazy bonkers in love with Damian always and forever. Jon has been written like shit since 2019, but he has also not wavered in his devotion for even one single solitary second.

THE EVIDENCE:

This is the first thing Jon does when he gets back to Earth:

He then tells Damian he's contemplating not joining the Legion because he'll have to leave Damian behind. Damian tells him to go and then come get him if it's cool.

Turns out the Legion is cool. Jon comes and gets Damian. The Legion isn't happy about it and Jon threatens to leave if Damian can't stay, while gazing adoringly at Damian's unconscious body cradled in his arms:

Eventually LOSH is canceled and Jon comes home and starts following Damian around by listening for his heartbeat. LIKE PALS DO!

Then Damian gives him a pep talk!

Then there's this ABSOLUTE CUDDLE:

The way Damian nuzzles into Jon's shoulder! Can you even stand it!

And then there's this:

The climax of Son of Kal-El, btw, is one of the several times Jon is saved by Damian and confides in Damian and turns to Damian for comfort or advice...and Jay is just sort of standing there off to the side. I am fully aware I have ship goggles on but the degree of emotional investment Jon has in these relationships is not the same.

Then they had a special issue teamup:

Then we got Dark Crisis, and I actually love this interaction between them, because they are very different people with very different upbringings and this feels extremely in character to me for how they would both handle the loss of their fathers:

But even when they disagree, they still instantly support each other. Jon comes back with information? Damian makes a plan:

Also, we got the 2022 Pride issue where Jon, Jay, and Damian go to Pride together. I know that story is...contentious...but leave me here with Damian sulking while Jon and Jay kiss, okay?

Then we get Adventures of Superman, which is objectively awful, but Jon does spend his whole time in the Injustice universe thinking about Damian like the seagulls in Finding Nemo saying "Mine? Mine? Mine?"

This whole arc is truly hilarious. Jon finds out that Damian accidentally killed Dick and his response is to a) go find Batman and yell at him for not supporting Damian enough for accidentally killing Dick, and then b) go find Damian to be like "Wow, that must have been really hard for you (accidentally killing Dick)." There's being ride or die for your BFF, and then there's whatever the fuck Jon has going on.

(Meanwhile there's an incredibly uncomfortable scene with him and Injustice Jay where Jay "tests" him by trying to get Jon to cheat on regular Jay. So. That happens.)

And then just this past month we got Nightwing #110, where we learn that Jon is still listening to Damian's heart:

He completely freaks out watching Damian in danger, and immediately intervenes when it looks like Damian is about to kill someone because he knows what matters the most to Damian. Also, this happens:

YOU WIN THIS ONE, TAYLOR.

AND THEN THEY BICKER I LOVE IT WHEN THEY BICKER:

AND THEN DAMIAN LETS HIMSELF BE VULNERABLE BY ASKING JON IF HE HURT ANYONE WHILE HE WAS A KITTY, AND JON GIVES YET ANOTHER SPEECH ABOUT HOW DAMIAN HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG EVER, IN HIS LIFE, AND DAMIAN STAGGERS OFF, LEANING ON JON.

This isn't even getting into the Trinity backup stories in Wonder Woman, which, like...Tom King is not valid but Jon and Damian are such an old married couple in them? It's truly incredible?

It took me like 45 minutes to parse Jon's line here as the general 'you" and not specifically Jon saying Damian wasn't straight. But like..."That's for straight people, which has nothing to do with us" is a hell of a thing to say, Jonathan.

I ALSO haven't even talked about DCeased because it's a different universe, but! Jon sitting with Damian while he dies??? MY HEART.

IN CONCLUSION:

Yes, they should never have aged up Jon.

Yes, most of his appearances since have been terrible and bland.

But OH BOY, do he and Damian remain in love.

[zuzsenpai]

mental health update

I've been having a pretty shit year as far as mental health goes. I mean, I had an actual mental health crisis in February that was one of the scariest times in my life. It was all because I was trying to taper off a psych med and apparently that was a BAD idea.

In the months that followed, I was able to avoid a bad depression spiral thanks to getting back on that particular med. But I've been getting more and more exhausted, and when I have anxiety, I have it REAL bad. Like shaking and chest pain bad. Thought I had covid and nearly passed out waiting the 15 minutes for the test results. Zuko was sick and had surgery and I was in a constant state of misery and shaking and dizziness. I know I should probably get like... Xanax or something for this. Maybe I will in the future.

Anyway, my focus is almost non-existent these days. During and after Zuko's health crisis last month, I have been at a point where my brain just can't move. I think I've spent the last 30 days scrolling tumblr because that and projects at work (the ones with deadlines) are the only things I can actually get my brain to do.

I want to work on fanfic. So I open a project, but then am immediately like "no I can't get myself to mentally be on the same page as this project". I think about a different project and my chest feels tight because I both want to do it and don't want to do it. It's painful. I accomplish nothing. I want to play a game or watch a show but the thought of putting effort into those things destroys my ability to do them. I just sit and continue scrolling tumblr. I long for conversation but when I'm actually conversing with someone, I can only manage a few words and I hate myself for it. I long for validation or praise on past projects to help motivate me into writing fanfic again, but I know that's selfish and I know it doesn't motivate shit.

This is where I am right now. I don't know how to have fun or relax. I don't know how to focus on anything. I don't know how to want to focus on anything. I waste entire days fretting about doing nothing.

I've also never been more exhausted in my life. I got bloodwork done on vitamin D, B12, iron, and thyroid. All are within normal range. So I'm getting a consultation with a sleep doctor (I get about 5% deep sleep per night, which is NOT good). We'll see how that goes.

I'm starting an exercise routine soon. I'm hoping that does something helpful. But I keep pushing the date back in my mind like "let's start exercising next week"... so you can imagine how that's going.

[rivet77]

Meditation used to be a practice that always confounded me, if I'm being honest. I would set a timer, close my eyes, focus on breathing fully & naturally through my nose, and it would feel like I'm attempting to stop a speeding train. My body would *fight* me, going "you can't stop, you have shit to do, you have things to worry about, how long as it been, surely the timer is getting close to being done, maybe you should check." Practically vibrating in my seat. My eyes would twitch. My body would itch. I'd literally be able to feel my heart squirming uncomfortably in my chest on every inhale. Every cell in my body would want me to stop, and prior to the last few months, I absolutely would have stopped!

Instead, I pushed through it. Insisted on holding the brakes down until I fully stopped, no matter how much the train wanted to keep going. I'd ask myself "why am I so uncomfortable" and start "scanning" my body, going through each part and intentionally relaxing it.

As this process goes on, eventually the breathing pattern stops feeling forced. The air begins to feel much like a drink of water when I'm thirsty, nourishing me, and it feels *good.* My thoughts happen, but I'm only observing them. I watch the lights & patterns on the back of my eyelids, no longer feeling my heart pounding against my chest, and I begin to feel an odd, almost... serene sensation above my eyes. As if a heavenly room opened up in my brain; where observations, ideas, and more come to me without much effort at all. It feels almost as if you're on the very edge of sleeping, without falling asleep. Before I knew it, the timer was going off. That's when it clicked. That's the meditative state I've been looking for.

Ever since I've been practicing it more and more. It's never anything long; I started with ten minutes, then fifteen, and I did twenty for awhile. It doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're sitting with your eyes closed, doing nothing, it can feel like forever (before you hit that meditative state, that is). Fifteen minutes is my sweet spot now, and by simply remembering the feeling of that meditative state, I'm able to reach it pretty quickly in those fifteen minutes. Before, i would spend most of the time trying to get there, but it's gotten much easier, and I almost always feel so much more clear and calm afterwards.

So yeah. If meditation has ever been a problem for you, just know that if you haven't practiced it, you're going to be stopping a moving train when you try. You need to keep holding down the brakes until it stops, or it will just keep accelerating. It'll be uncomfortable, and you'll need to learn to sit with the discomfort, feel it, and let it pass. What I found beyond that is 100% worth it

[brw]

If you can answer my question, why do you still read X-Men comics? I read your article about fall of x from a few months ago, and given everything I've learned about Israel and what the krakoan era turned out I honestly don't know how anyone could still stick around after that.

So with the news that BDS is expanding its Marvel boycott, I thought I'd answer this question, and also broaden it up to why I, personally, am still reading comics as a whole.

The answer is that Marvel Comics is a large company with a lot of different writers, artists, and other creators on board and involved in its business. A lot of these creators have differing views, and Marvel Comics as an organisation is generally going to be as neutral as possible, to gain the most revenue from as many different people. And because of the way comic books are sold and are paid for, I find it a better use of my time to avoid certain writers whose politics I disagree with (Gerry Duggan, Chris Claremont, Benjamin Percy, etc), rather than the whole industry, as those creators are not the only people working at Marvel and there are people in that body who I don't mind giving some money towards their creations, like Ryan North or Jed MacKay.

By the time a comic gets to you on shelf, everyone involved in it has already been paid. Comic creators are paid a rate per page; the amount the issue actually makes doesn't go to them (although it's success might contribute towards a bonus). When you purchase an issue at a shop, most of the money goes to the retailer. Statistics aren't always consistent, but generally around 60-75% of the revenue goes to the store distributor. A boycott at that stage would only target the store, and not the people who have written the comic, as everyone there has already been paid before it got to you.

This is more iffy with digital releases, as the amount made from these isn't widely reported on. I've never bought digital releases, so I can't really boycott them so much as just avoid them.

There's a lot of issues with the X-Men, and a lot of the time, those issues keep me from buying and supporting the comic. However, much of the same can be said about, I don't know, any mainstream American media enterprise ever, and so far, I find it a better use of my time to focus my efforts in what we ARE actually meant to avoid and boycott in force, rather than a bunch of small, disorganised boycotts that are confused on what they're actually looking to achieve.

As for why, personally, I keep getting X-Men comics occasionally, it's because despite the flaws I do often like the characters, and I'm always curious to see how the core conceit of the series is articulated and portrayed by different writers from different backgrounds and experiences. Sometimes I really don't like this, so I'll avoid it, but sometimes I find it really interesting, so I'll buy it. The nature of comics means that there are hundreds and thousands of people working on the same characters and the same books, which makes it difficult to say anything definitive about the politics of a series, because it's always changing based on the politics of who is writing it at the time.

I'm probably never going to buy a Gerry Duggan or a Benjamin Percy or a Johnathan Hickman comic again. But those aren't the only writers who work for this company, and as I've said, those people have already been paid by the time I'm at the store, deciding what to buy. Instead, I'll read the comics from the people whose work I enjoy and want to see succeed. This isn't what everyone else is doing, and I don't besmirch or look down on the people who do decide to refuse to purchase everything as a consequence. This is just my personal feelings on things, and what I am doing moving forward.

[jellybeanium124]

adhd vent

cannot believe my psych might require me to do like $3000 and 16 hours of testing to """"prove""" I have adhd. give me 10 minutes I will leave you without a shadow of a doubt.

every couple of months I have this day. I never know when it will happen. but very rarely, I will have a day where I can just... do things. call the people I need to call, email the people I need to email, clean my apartment, run errands. I can get like 4 or 5 things done and I have to fucking milk it when it comes because most days are not like this.

most days getting 1 thing done is a win. getting nothing done is average. getting nothing done + being so filled with bees I can't even focus on stuff that's meant to be entertaining for more than a minute is a bad day. if I get the closing shift there's a 70% chance I will do nothing else that day because I do not have any sense of how time works and am worried if I leave the house to do groceries I will be late for work. on a good day I can do laundry before a closing shift. I never even remember to contact people until a time where I can't (at work, night). I can't even begin building habits like "exercise" because I don't want to do it and forming a habit for something that is technically unnecessary for my survival and I don't want to do is impossible.

there's a decent chance I will do absolutely 0 things on my days off because I'm so beat from work. this is part of why I'm getting into records. I have to LEAVE THE HOUSE to go to a record store. and because it is FUN and I might get a TREAT (new record) I am actually able to sometimes do it. this would be less of an issue if I had more friends where I lived. But Circumstances happened and now I only have one friend where I live. all my other friends are in [HOMETOWN]. I'm working on a second friend.

everything has an exact place in my apartment and if something isn't in its place (or for objects that move a lot, like my phone, one of its few places) I have Absolutely No Fucking Idea Where I Put It. I still have my TI-84 calculator from high school and I still use it if I know I'm gonna do multiple calculations in a row bc I will not remember the previous answers and the TI-84 records it for me. I keep it in my desk drawer. once I thought I lost my phone for like 10 minutes because I used my calculator and then put my phone in the drawer when I was done with the calculator. it took me forever to retrace my steps and realize what I did. I forget things one second after they happen.

I was constantly struggling to turn homework in on time from 7th-9th grade (12-14) and I only "fixed" that problem by developing severe anxiety over turning in homework late. and then I lived with severe anxiety during school years from 9th grade through my freshman year of college (14-18). idk why it suddenly didn't come back my sophomore year. probably because I moved out.

I wanna work in the film industry but that's driven by my effort and I can't even fucking remember I should be doing something about it most of the time!! and then reaching out to people is so difficult! sometimes for anxiety reasons but sometimes I just can't work up whatever I fucking need to work up to respond to an email. I love this work and once I'm on set I'm a hard worker and generally good (people seem to like me) but getting on set has been damn near impossible and not just because it's a difficult industry to break into.

this has just been my life. for 10 fucking years. and it's worse now because I don't have the structure of school or my parents looming over me. I only pay my rent because I have a calendar alert set up every month. I only pay for wifi and my credit card bills because they let you set up auto payments. my roommate is in charge of the electric bill and whenever they text me what my half of this month's payment is I have to venmo them immediately or it will never happen. when my calendar alert to take my birth control pops up on my laptop I don't let myself close it until I've swallowed that pill. when my alarm goes off telling me whatever's in the oven needs to come out, I don't shut it off until I'm out of my seat, otherwise I'd accidentally keep watching youtube or whatever and burn everything. everything's a calendar alert, everything's on a timer, I have a physical fucking whiteboard calendar on my desk to remind me of everything. if I didn't have these things set up and I didn't force myself to be diligent about it, I'd never remember when I needed to go to work, and banks and landlords would start coming after me.

my car is out of windshield wiper fluid. only the driver's side window goes down. the AC's out. and most recently the aux cord stopped working (this happened before and I got a new cord which worked for a short while so I think there's something wrong with the car). and I haven't fucking found the time to take it to someone and get it fixed. my AC is out!! in june!!! and I can only open one window!!! and I suffer because the car still technically works and drives me where I need to go and since this isn't life threatening or otherwise immediately pressing I have no idea when I will get to this!!!

I just want the days where doing two things being a major accomplishment to be a thing of the past. I want it to be a distant memory. I want to be able to function like everyone else.

you don't need to send me to someone for 16 hours across two days and cost me $3000. Idk what more proof you could possibly fucking need. give me the goddamn pills that will make my brain work.

[elvisabutler]

beggin' you for mercy

summary: austin knows what happens to good boys when they're bad boys and he hates it. and yet that has stopped him from being bad every once in a while. rating: m word count: 1029. warnings: orgasm control. orgasm denial. oral ( m, receiving ). allusions to oral ( f receiving ) and p in v sex. dom/sub dynamics. bit of mommy kink. author's note: consider this a faint continuation of yesterday's blurb for mommy kink. anyway! welcome to day four of kinktober orgasm control with austin butler. i am aware that some of y'all would have probably liked to see orgasm control with austin controlling the reader's orgasm, however, i was in a sub austin mood for this and i have enough requests for austin for the rest of kinktober that don't worry, y'all will get that exact thing. also please ignore the fact that i mixed up my days earlier this week. i think i'm just really excited to get to tomorrow because i'm a sucker for praise kink. thank you everyone who's read the past three days and had me marveling at the amount of notes because i wasn't sure anyone was going to read some of them. y'all are the best, truly. also tag for @oh-kurva because i did promise last night.

"Please." He groans, his hips bucking up uselessly in an effort to gain some friction, any kind of friction only to be met with air and your cunt so close and yet so far away from his aching cock.

"Please what, baby boy?" You ask, a smirk crossing your features. "What is my baby so needy for? You can tell mama."

"You know what's got me so needy. You've got me so needy. Seeing you has me this way. Just let me touch you, please." Austin's voice is high pitched, practically reedy in tone and you almost break there, but you know you must endure.

"Good boys know better than to come without mommy's permission. And what did you do while I was busy with work?" Your hand moves down Austin's chest, down his torso and right down to the v of his hips before you stop eyeing his reaction as you do. His body shudders just a bit, you note and you can see his muscles tensing so hard to try and not buck his hips up again.

"I played with myself and made a mess. But you were taking so long and you promised tonight would be about us. About me." He whines and a blush covers his face once he realizes it. He would be more put together, less whiny and less needy but it's been an hour and all he wants to do is come. He doesn't care where any more, just that he can.

Your eyebrow quirks up at his tone, noting the way he whines out me like a spoiled toddler and not like the 31 year old he is. You know you're getting there, you know you're getting to the point where he's learning his lesson. Maybe just another ten minutes, a little more teasing and he'll know truly what was wrong about what he did.

"And I told you that work calls for the next couple of months took priority over everything else. You said you understood that, said it was fine and you were patient enough to wait tonight. What changed?"

Austin leans his head back against the pillows and takes a few short heaving breaths before answering. "Your breasts. You- The dress you're wearing, it makes them look so good. Spent all night wanting to bury my face in them. Wanted to mark them up. Wanted you to- God, mama- suffocate me with them."

His words come out in a rush, half slurred once your hand slides down to touch his neglected cock. You said he couldn't come but your hand is right there squeezing and touching him in just the right way. How is he supposed to not. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of your hand.

For what it's worth, you clench your thighs together at his words and at how he starts to writhe on the bed his eyes shut like he's trying to escape the sensations of the room and everything else. Maybe- Maybe he's already learned his lesson. maybe you can cut it short this time.

"Austin, open your eyes and look at me." Your voice is soft as you lean over to whisper in his ear, your hand still moving slowly up and down his cock.

Austin forces his eyes open and realizes you're not by his face any more, not by his ear, instead you've slid down to his lap, and your mouth is hovering over his cock. He keens at the sight. "I'm looking. Please mama, please, no more teasing I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want tonight, I'll eat your pussy, I'll fuck you all night please please please."

You blow just a tiny bit of cold air onto his cock, watching his jaw clench so hard you feel he might have almost broken his teeth. "When you ask that nicely, I think I have to. But you have to promise no more touching like you did tonight. Or your punishment will be so much worse."

You don't wait to hear a yes before your mouth envelops his cock and his actual answer gets lost in a should of your name as his hands move to your hair. He's not in charge of the pace, but he needs something other than the sheets to grab at. You hum at the slight tug, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock slowly before playing with the tip. You know this won't last long, Austin's cock was practically drenched in pre-come by the time you even touched him, but still you figure both you and him might as well enjoy it. Your hand moves to his balls, playing with them in your hand as you feel Austin trying not to move his hips too much. Another hum, a longer one leaves your lips again when you move your hand and attempt to relax your throat, grabbing at Austin's hips to give him a cue to try and force his cock in a little more. Your mouth tenses just a tad before you realize he got the message and your head bobs as his hand twists even more into your hair until he's growling and groaning and you feel the first hint of his come before he lets out a choked out cry of your name. He's practically trembling when you pull off of him after you've swallowed, giving his cock little kitten licks as you do. His cock is still interested, twitching in a valiant attempt to get right back into the action when you finally pull up and give Austin a kiss, letting him taste himself on you.

"Good boy." A pause. "Now, what was this about eating my pussy? I think you might have earned it now. Earned all the attention I want to give you tonight."

Austin looks at you fo a moment, his chest heaving as he tries to settle himself before you see a glint in his eye as he slinks off the bed and onto the floor where he can put himself directly at eye level with your cunt.

"I worked up an appetite, mama, I hope you're ready."

[feiandart]

Posting 'em here again just to boost a bit my motivation today. I made 'em back in december, one of the first drawing I have ever made for myself only.

Will talk 'bout myself and my past from here, can skip it if you don't want my oversharing shit.

So. I used to work as a commission artist for years (5-6 if I'm not wrong), drew bit of anything you could think of and mainly sticked to NSFW art for most of my, uh, let me call that "carreer" even if it's probably the wrong term to use for it. Well, it paid my bills and rent for years, so we may stick to it anyway.

Thing is, I stopped drawing when I was eighteen. People, family first, always told me talent in art was all, practice would never have made it better and I should have kept it as a hobby rather than something to do as a job. Apart from my closest friends, no one encouraged me to practice and study and put real effort on it. I went to an art-based highschool (only because I couldn't focus on studying any subject, and art school is considered one in which you don't actually study at all here, so my parents thought it better to put me there as I wanted "so you can still graduate"), but I couldn't go ahead with art studies in professional comic schools, academies or any artistic department in university. No support on that front. Something like "be Caravaggio or be nobody" mindset was stuck into my head and I started actually believing that it was true. And since I was, and am not, Caravaggio, then what was the point? So I dropped the pencil and just forgot how to draw a fuckin' line for literal years.

Then I turned 22. I moved to another city for my studies. After completing 'em, my parents said me to come back home and I said no. They stopped paying anything for me since that moment, so I had to make things works on my own. Hopefully my rent was really low, so I could afford it with minimum effort, but had to buy groceries with coupons (not a common thing in Italy) and eat a lot less to make 'em last as much as possible. I found a job in a call-center, I cleaned houses and handed flyiers to people. And that's when I found out I cannot really be in social context for too long.

In the end I burned out, left all jobs and was stuck in bed for a month. I was barely 24, without a job, holding tight the little bit of freedom I ever got. I felt helpless and hopeless. I don't remember if my bestfriend or my housemate, but one of 'em said me to come back at drawing and givin' it a shot. What harm could that do afterall, could have been pocket money for a bit if it couldn't stick to something better.

I started from pencil. Then went to digital in a couple months. I practiced, started quite immediately taking commissions and honest to God I don't have the slightest clue of how someone whould spend money on some shit I drew without basic anathomy knowledge and after that much time without drawing. Still have no idea. So I drew. I made some quick animations, never did much there thought. Grew a little fanbase, went on with it for years. I even moved with my bestfriend, living with her alone for two years, got a cat I love that it's my actually support companion right now.

I felt happy for a bit, I believe. Imposter syndrome is always watching me afterall, that never stopped. It's just like there's another person in the room with me all day, whispering me I should do more 'cause I don't deserve any attention. Ugh.

However. I went on with that until 2023. I had to come back to my parent's house in 2022 and got stuck in here since then. Nightmare years. Still a nightmare period, but I'm managing. Thing is, past year I burned out so much I completed all my left commissions in a rush and actually dropped my tablet for months. I used it as a third screen, took away the pen and the glove and swore I would never ever be back at drawing again. Will not go into details of what triggered that burnout, but you got the point, I didn't want to draw again in my life at that time.

This is pretty much when Good Omens entered the room. It was late September, I saw a lot of videos on tiktok and since I watched S1 years ago, I decided to give it a shot to S2 too. It was an istant hyperfocus. Watched all over for weeks, both in italian, in english, in english with italian subs and english with english subs. Never done anything like that in my life before. By the end of October I came back at writing. So I started to arrange things for Up&Down, my first fic after uhm, like 15 years or so. And it felt so good! I went through 42 days of deep writing, posting a chapter a day just for myself. 'cause I wanted to write something I liked for the sole purpose of liking it. And it felt so liberating!

Then I thought: will this apply to drawing too, maybe?

Answer is YES. It did. I was inspired from the fandom, from MrGhostRat's art and Gleafer's, and started drawing again. I dug into english fanfictions, fandom artists I love, and the list just gets longer day by day. I started writing Sugar, and with it I started drawing illustrations for it.

I went from the image to the left to the one to the right in two months. Guys, I'll repeat it: TWO MONTHS. I never had such a quick improvement in years, practicing every fuckin' day, drawing my hands out of my bloody body. I drew for 5-6 years and never got to improve this much. I did now. And you know why?

'cause I started drawing for myself. I'm doing something I love. And I'm getting better at it.

And you know what? I'm quite angry now. 'cause if I didn't stop years ago, who knows where I could have been now. If I didn't listen to people saying me "be Caravaggio or be nobody", I could have done so much more by now. Maybe I could have been able to draw fuckin' furnitures by now. Maybe I would have started being able to draw the same face two times in a row years ago insted of now.

Maybe I could have been the comic artist I wanted to be. Maybe not the best in the world, but I don't fuckin' care of being the best one, I want to be one I'm proud of. I didn't get the chance 'cause out there is full of people without a dream who's only purpose in life is destroying other people hopes.

And you know what? I'm done with that. I'm done with people saying me I'm not a gifted child. I'm done with people coming at me saying I cannot do shit I love 'cause they have reason to make me do something different. People thinks to know what's good for me but I'm fuckin' 30 and I think I know it pretty well already, thank you very much.

I'm managing how to get hold of my choices and things I love now that I'm an adult, but dear Lord I keep on thinking of my young self and I want to hug that poor thing so much I can't explain. I'd love to say her everything's going to be hard, but good in some way. That things are difficult, but they will change. That people are shit, but she should be strong and fight back. 'cause I did it too late and I regret now, but she deserved better.

You deserves better. And I'm talking to anyone who's reading this. I don't know if you went all the way 'til here, but if you did: don't make my same mistakes. You know better than me. Don't let people spoil the things you love, don't give 'em power to destroy your will and put you in a closet for the time being. You don't deserve that.

Don't miss your chance 'cause people doesn't want to see you happy to be yourself. Don't do that. They don't deserve that power over you.

Love yourself more than I loved myself. I'm starting just now and it's hell. You can do better, I promise.

[femmefatalevibe]

Hi i really need help. I feel so insecure and jealous. I don't feel or think that I am beautiful because I'm chubby. I have big arms and stomach. I've followed people on IG that have the same body as me and are content with it but I still don't see myself (or their bodies, I know I'm despicable) beautiful. I've been running for 5 months now but my weight still increased instead of going down. Please how do i become confident?

Hi love! Feeling like your mental perception of yourself doesn't match what you see in the mirror is incredibly frustrating. Everyone feels better at different sizes, so your feelings are valid here!

I believe that confidence in your body comes from loving yourself unconditionally while simultaneously making the deliberate decision to care for it to the best of your ability – through a healthy diet, regular exercise, proper skin care, a comprehensive beauty routine, clothes that fit well and make you feel your best, etc.

While this is purely anecdotal and in no way a scientific finding, I've found that your body seems to sort itself out once you start putting yourself first in every aspect of your life. I tend to be in my best shape when I'm working hard towards my goals, socializing regularly, putting effort into my outfits/daily appearance, eating a healthy diet but not restricting, moving my body for at least a few minutes every day, and generally letting myself work towards my potential in life if you will.

For weight loss purposes, it is more important to focus on what you eat and how much than any exercise routine. I would look into a predominately WFPB diet and then customize your meals/snacks to cater to your personal taste preferences, lifestyle, and energy requirements given your height, weight, and level of activity. See a dietitian if you need any help with this.

Additionally, you might want to try walking and low-impact strength training like pilates, yoga, and shorter 10-15 minute bodyweight exercises you can find Youtube to get started.

At least for me, I find that running and higher-intensity exercises/classes make my appetite soar, so it's counterproductive for weight loss. I think the merit of these exercises is more for the enduring training or muscle-building benefits they provide (which shouldn't be discounted – they serve a different purpose).

If you've been doing all of the right things, though, and you're not seeing the results you think you should be, go to your doctor for a blood test/panels to ensure you're not dealing with any underlying deficiencies or imbalances that could be sabotaging your efforts or otherwise negatively impacting your wellbeing.

Hope this helps xx

[andromeda4004]

Share it Sunday - Rebecca AU

I'm planning to start publishing this in about a month, and since I made great progress on it yesterday, here's a taste of the opening soliloquy. If you're familiar with du Maurier's Rebecca, I am changing a few major points of the plot, but still drawing heavily on some of the key points of the novel, including the first person perspective from an unidentified female narrator...

Last night I dreamt (more under the cut)

Last night I dreamt I went to Sanderley again.  It has been many years since I left that place – I shall not call it home – and yet at times my mind does drift back there upon a sleeping tide and wash me ashore where I used to dwell.  In my dream I come, as it seems, from nowhere, upon the night-time gatehouse and that long, disorienting drive, with not a thought but the pull to move onwards, inwards, through.  I part the gates, their white paint flaking, though they are caught up in vines and drag across undergrowth, and the gravel beyond is narrowed from a driveway to a meandering path through the woods, the route obscured here and there by a sprawl of shrubbery or the sudden upstart of a sapling, sprouting where once the car would run.  The woods go on and on, and I go with them, first walking, then running, then flying, as one does in dreams, along what remains of the path, dark ahead and enclosed above, until finally the trees give way to the opalescence of the rhododendrons, blooming at the height of their powers, despite all else having gone to ruin.  They rise steep to either side of me, the sweet domesticated perennials grown monstrous, twenty feet, thirty feet, forty feet high, and covered every inch in flowers, ghostly white in the moonlight of my imagining.  I remember the scent even now, something spicy-sweet and indefinable; indefatigable.  The inescapable scent of Sanderley in springtime.

It lingers even as I break free, finally, of the plants which choke the driveway and I spill out onto the lawns above the house.  That view, it always challenged me, should I admire first the gardens, or the sea or Sanderley itself?  Even in my dream, I cannot focus, cannot choose; after the homogeneity of dark trees then pale flowers, there is suddenly too much variety to see.  But of course it is Sanderley, always, that demands my attention, though the moonlight skitters beautifully across the wavecrests beyond.  The broad north-east face of the house stares back towards me, two unbroken rows of perfect matched windows that reminded me always of a set of teeth, locked in a gritted grin.  And bordering each window-frame that ostentatious golden finish which caught the light so prettily in the dawn, but stands out brassy now in my moonlit dream, the only point of colour in my sight.  There is something awful – in the sense of awe-filled – in its great mass of stone, and glass, and glorious history.  Sanderley is undeniable.  Sanderley simply is.

And as I come upon the house itself, I feel again that hope, that same, strange hope that dogged my footsteps always in those days; boundless, groundless hope that a wisdom greater than my own would guide me to a purpose.  When first I saw Sanderley with my waking eyes, I had thought I’d found it, that purpose; when last I saw Sanderley, I knew myself better, and I had no longer any need for hope.  I had certainty.

My dreaming eyes, however, they look across the years and miles and see Sanderley as it must be by now.  The ivy beginning to clog the stonework, the windows cracked and broken here and there, the soot stains where the fire broke free.  I move, without any sense of effort, around the building, to the terrace which faces the sloping gardens and the distant cliffs, where the driveway ends in a white portico and wide steps, now grubby and forgotten, and the perfect formal gardens overflow their box hedges.  Such a shame.  Someone ought to care for this place, I think in my dream.  Although it shall not be me.

____

I would love to hear thoughts and speculations, since many of you voted for me to spend time on this. I'm planning to post the story through October and November.

[julie-su]

Megaman, as a series, does something absolutely bizarre to my brain. The first time I really got into it, wasn't so long ago - I believe it was 2017, 2018? It was the month that Tony died, only a month after Skunk died, maybe - I don't remember the timeframe. I was already numb, then number. I was already majorly depressed; I didn't know how to cry, I didn't know how to do anything.

I don't really remember why, I bought a NES. It's all I talked about for a long time, my NES. I was mean, and apathetic, and rude, and I wanted you to know about my NES. I went to the local arcade, I went to their coadjacent 'retro' games store, I bought NES games. I bought NES peripherals. I played Megaman II. I played it a little, then a lot. I felt nothing, still, nothing, as I managed to die in the game, over and over. Am I even paying attention? I don't know. I don't care. It's all just going through the motions; it's always just going through the motions. And then... Defeat my first robot master. Was I always this close to the screen, leaning in so intently like this? I'm sweating from the effort. I start to smile. Just a little, then a lot. I don't know how long I had been playing at that point, but I had been feeling like I was ramming my head against the wall endlessly. In the game? In real life? I haven't felt this much of anything in a long time. It's not failing; it's getting better, each try. You're not meant to win it all in one go; it's designed like this. You get better, you have a margin for error, you're expected to fumble around. It sounds so silly, but I just started to cry about everything. I guess it wasn't so much about it being MegaMan, so much as I just needed the time to sit and parse through my emotions; but it felt almost poetic, how it had happened. They say that playing a game which forces you to focus, can help you to compartmentalise traumatic events. It was the first time I had truly had time to cry about it. I have a hard time with emotions like that; I had cried for show, because it's what you're 'supposed' to do, but I had felt total apathy up until the moment I reduced poor ol' Metal Man into scrap.

The next few weeks, I felt all of those hard-to-feel emotions about love, loss, and every human emotion under the sun. Laugh about the good times, seethe about how quickly it all happened (we lost Skunk to an idiot drunk driver), and cry, cry because it's really sunk in that I will never see either again. Before that, when I was in total apathy, it was like I had pressed pause; in some infinite dimension where they still were alive, and yet dead, at the same time. Like when you're playing a videogame, and you know that your next action will cause the death of a character who you love; but if you stay here, if you don't progress, you're still alive, for as long as I need you to be. I wish it could be forever, but you have to be selfish sometimes, and keep on moving forwards.

The next few months of my life after that were then dedicated entirely to telling anybody who would listen, about everything MegaMan. That sort of happy-flappy-hands no composure half-yelling type of excitement. I travelled further afield to more retro videogame markets than ever. It's a little embarrassing, and I don't get exactly like that for anything else. I was trying to avoid getting back into it now, because I get so embarrassingly head-over-heels, but I decided to indulge myself. I feel my cheeks getting a bit pink, but oh, oh, have I ever been happy these past few months, years, as I follow my nose wherever it'd take me. There's some Sonic fan events coming up soon; I can't wait for those, either <3 everything is coming up beautifully in my little old life.

[princessmaybank]

Hi! Congratulations on 1.5!!! sent something else for the celebration already but saw you post about warning a “💌 New Message”. I know you mentioned for us to state which character we would like it from but honestly I pretty much like them all the same (except I do like Pope just a little bit more) so either from Pope, or if you think I would for better with sometime else then I would definitely love that! (Also preferably the character being my established significant other (so like at least being together for like 6 ish months)). And even though I’m a really boring person, here it goes haha. I’m pretty shy and introverted when first meeting someone (and in public) but once I get to know and become closer to someone I am more extroverted around them, and more relaxed and carefree. I would describe myself as a very kind, honest, caring, and overall good person. I would also say I’m a romantic and love all that stuff that some people find cheesy. I unfortunately didn’t get the stereotypical high school love and have only had 2 “romances” (a few “dates” (I put in quotes because yes they were dates but no effort was made and were nothing like how I imagined/imagine dates should be) and kissed/made out but then said they didn’t want anything serious). I love both cats and dogs but after we put down our last dog a few years ago we (my family and I) decided just to have our cats (as my mom is getting older and didn’t want to deal with potty training and taking a dog on walks, especially when I am at college). I LOVE music I am listening to music pretty much all the time, exceptions being when I am working/ doing school stuff that I have to have my entire focus on (or obvious things like at a restaurant with family or friends, dr appointment, etc) although once I am sitting in the chair at the dentist after talking to the hygienist, I have it in my chart that I put my headphones in because I hate loud noises the noise, (and the taste, smells, noise all put together makes me freak out). I said I hate loud noises, however I love fireworks and concerts (I put earplugs in lmao). I am a basic white girl with most of my music taste (sue me okay!) and love Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Halsey, Kelsea Ballerini, the glee cast seasons 1-3💀, 5 seconds of summer, one direction, however I do also love Evanescence and Halestorm. In middle and high school I was in band (played the clarinet) and choir for a few years but did not continue when teachers left and i didn’t get much joy from it anymore, but I still sing along to music I listen to. I am NOT into sports/don’t watch/play but when I was younger I was really interested in gymnastics and did it for four years until the price increased and I had to quit. However I love “swimming” (going in the water and relaxing/ moving around, not swimming laps or anything like that). This was all over the place and I feel like this was probably way too many details you don’t need/don’t help you but also possibly not enough info to write a letter :/ But anyways, hopefully it is good enough you can write something from it! Thank you and once again congratulations!!!

Thank you babe ❤️ I guess I'm a post office now because have a letter here from Pope for you! 😂

Hello Beautiful,

It's our 1 year anniversary and I am extremely sorry for not being able to be with you for it. I miss you so much and I can't wait to see you again. I think about you every day, all day long. Not a day goes by where you and your lovely smile don't cross my mind.

I know I told you I'd be away for a few more months but I have something to tell you. I'll be back to visit in a few weeks honey!

You've probably already seen them by now in the envelope, but in case you haven't looked, I got you a little something. I know how much you love Niall Horan, and I saw that he was on tour, so I made a few ends meet and I got us some tickets for his show near us. I'll be visiting that week. Can't wait to see my beautiful baby.

P.S. I know it's not as good as the tickets but I also sent a picture of me. I Love You.

Love,

Pope <3

[snowfelledayah]

New Beginnings

I said the other day, so much vaguely I suppose, that I was making spiritual changes. And I have. I did. I'm still doing. It's both the short and long roads but all of them begin with a single step.

I've been ... quiet, about these changes for awhile now, though it has been taking place for quite some time. I've kept under the radar because I have such a wide and wonderful world of Pagan friends, it's hard to take steps in the direction away from that which most of your acquaintances on a daily basis are associated with. And even though I haven't changed as a person from one week to the next, there's still always a fear of losing friends or people you care about when the direction of the wind changes, and you follow the call of something else toward growth, and happiness.

Sometime 7 months ago which feels like ages now, I spoke of being a multitude... and 3 months ago, in some ways I felt restricted to the use of a crutch (Paganism). I said I would reflect on that during Ramadan, and I did as promised; however, it took still 2 more months to fully understand what came of it, and even now the future is uncertain, as all things are.

Today, I am still a multitude -- because we all are. But today, I am so in one less way: I have decided to put away Kemeticism for good, for the forseeable future, and focus on my Islamic path that I began back in 2009 and have continued in a bizarre halfling-effort ever since. But now, I will be a wholeling!

... or some other word that doesn't suck.

I mean don't get me wrong: I am still some traditionalist's nightmare, and that is a fucking life-goal worth achieving in my opinion. What I bring to Islam, the traddies definitely do not want (like thinking for myself, and recognizing the Qur'an tells us to use reason, logic, and not to follow the dogmatic status-quo), and that's fine by me. If there was ever a person who came to Islam about which someone would say "Sibling, please... just don't," that person would be me.

But in order to grow, and become the biggest fucking problem traditionalists have ever seen (picture me giving the horns here), I definitely need to move away from the multi-trad life I've been living.

Over the last while I've reconnected with important community of mine, and I've started putting away over the last several days things which no longer serve me. It has been both terrifying, and refreshing, but it is a slow burn, and a slow change. Every day, something else goes, but from that step, something emerges. At this time, Conference of the Books reminds me: “Ideas are timeless, but the applications are limited by their age. I should be grateful that the mistakes of the past are the lessons of today.” While I'm not calling any part of my past a mistake (far from it), the ideas of the past can definitely have a shelf-life in terms of their application to an era, an age, or even a life.

I apologize to anyone following me who won't be interested in this content going forward as I change gears, and I apologize to myself for forcing something for the last probably two years or more that wasn't nearly as good deep down as it seemed on the surface. I don't know what comes next, because no one knows the future. But I do know my direction, which is new for me after so much change happened last year around this time, is a secure one in my heart.

I haven't decided whether I will retire this blog or simply continue with it; for now, I've privatized a number of posts and am continuing, as the twojackals name is still me. But we'll see what comes next.

[eliink]

𝐎𝐌𝐖: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 

When I was young, I wanted to do many things in life. What I want to do in the future constantly changes, and I love exploring new things. But now, as I get older, I still continue my journey, yet a nagging feeling says I'm adrift as if the world has moved on without me.

Francine is graduating in September, Irene is currently working as a Finance Manager in Europe, and my cousin Krsha is already in Spain pursuing her dream career. However, I'm still here, out of the loop,  wondering what I want in life. It's frustrating—I don't even have a clear direction for myself. My dream of becoming a lawyer changed, and I aspired to become a nurse, but am I truly capable of handling it? I spent a year studying in the Architecture program, only to realize it wasn't my passion. I became an irregular student and am now pursuing a communication course. What's wrong with me? Am I on the right track? Or am I lost once again?

How many years have I wasted, how many months have I pondered what I truly desire, yet it's never sufficient? I constantly feel lost, despite having a mental map to guide me. I indulge in binge-watching videos that promise to help in decision-making, but are they truly effective? I doubt it. Despite my efforts to uncover my desires, I encounter more obstacles with each attempt. I'm feeling down in the dumps and utterly useless.

Then I heard this line, “Feeling lost can lead to being found”' from one of the podcast episodes of Lyqa Maravilla where she talks about trying hard. Hearing that line made me change my perspective on how being left behind is okay until you figure things out. Those years that I spent on things that weren't my passion were worth it; I realized that I never wasted my time. I've truly learned a lot in the past years. Maybe, It's just hard for me to accept that I'm still confused about what's really in store for me.

People are growing, and that's why we're allowed to feel what we feel. You might feel behind in life, but that's way too far from your reality. Think about where you are now. You don't realize that you are slowly moving towards your goal, but because you compare yourself to other people's lives, you feel that you are still behind. Your comparison has nothing to do with what's happening in your life; it has something to do with how you feel and think about your life when you are unhappy. The journey you're in is yours alone, so stop comparing. Once you focus on your lane, you don't get to bump into others and realize that they are doing better than you. The only competition you have is in your imagination.

We see other people who are successful, promoted in their jobs, and have their own cars. What impact does it have on you? Yes, you might feel jealous. But if you know how to use jealousy to your advantage, it's all going to be fine. If you're jealous about something, that means there's something you want for yourself. So instead of seeing it negatively, why not use it as motivation to also work hard for yourself? Success is different for everyone. These people don't have life figured out yet, just like you. For some, it's money, traveling, pursuing their careers, or getting their dream house. However, it's about making memories and treasuring the time we have on earth. Take your time in measuring your happiness and success; it's not too late. Patience is the master key that unlocks the door to your dreams.

Remember, your classmates who have already graduated, your cousins who have already started working, and your friends who are abroad will one day be you. So if you find yourself in a situation similar to mine, I want you to remember that we're not in a race. Picture all of us sitting together in the same room, taking exams without any time limit. You can finish whenever you want, and there's no pressure or fear of failure because we all have the time we need. As long as we're making an effort, we know we're doing the right thing for ourselves. Even though we may feel lost and purposeless at times, remember that every cloud has a silver lining.

The reason why you feel unhappy or left behind in life is not because you are behind, it’s because you’re still figuring things out and that’s okay.