#because nothing outside of myself is enough to free me and i know this

[spilledkaleidoscope]

Activation Energy and Executive Dysfunction

A bunch of people (with executive dysfunction I assume) reacted a little disheartened to how I described the phenomenon.

The gist is that I used activation energy, a concept from chemistry, as a model for how executive dysfunction can keep you from doing things. Activation energy is the minimal energy that has to be available for any chemical reaction to occur and that amount is specific to every reaction.

Executive Dysfunction to me means, that this activation energy is always high, even for tasks other people experience as spontaneous reaction (yes the amount of ae and spontaneity of a reaction are not connected necessarily but bear with me here). A good example is showering or feeding yourself or sometimes getting up from the couch.

The tricky thing here is that the energy put into trying to reach activation energy is still *expended*, so while it might seem like nothing happens, you still get drained, making it harder to reach activation energy levels.

So what can we do?

In synthesis, if your activation energy is too high you basically can do two things: you either add a catalyst, or you find a different way to get to your result altogether.

The latter can be choosing a simpler recipe to feed yourself, graze on random items without making a meal until you are full or ordering food for example.

This is not always possible, but it *is* worth thinking about. An example from my life would be that I open my mail outside at the trash bins and immediately discard what I don't need because otherwise, I have paperstuff flying around my appartment that I don't get rid of.

"Weird" is not something that should factor in here. Make it functional and helpful.

The catalyst is my favourite solution however, and I can give you some tips here that you can *immediately* use. I won't know if they work for you, but they do for me (sometimes! be kind to yourself).

CATALYSTS AGAINST EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION

Have your tasks broken down: when you have energy, make sure that the thing on your to do list is something you can *actually* physically immediately do. Don't write "make reservation", but "call restaurant" along with the number. Not "clean kitchen" but "move dishes to sink" etc

Doorway Effect: The Doorway effect describes that silly thing that, when we cross a boundary, we sometimes feel like we've been soft reset ("what was I going to do?"). A hypothesis for why this happens can be that it helps our brain create separate contexts which then aids memory creation. What it can do for you is that it is an easy way to change context, which then frees you up to start something new more easily. Try it! Physically go through a doorway or open a different window on the computer, sometimes that is enough.

Costuming: Similar to the Doorway Effect, we are changing context in a low effort way here. Concentrate on putting on your shoes instead of taking out the trash or put on some rubber gloves if you plan on cleaning. Might be enough. Sometimes putting on mascara is enough for me to go "oh I am out of couch potato mode now"

Move! Put yourself where you need to be to tackle your task. That can already help.

Pressure: This can be done by setting a timer that will go off soon. Challenge yourself to get up and go before it rings - might stress you into inaction sometimes, but it can be helpful. I love visual timers for this as it helps with my time blindness

Prepare! If you are in a state of flow and have energy to spare *use it*. This includes breaking down your task as already described but also preparing your space - this can be a cleaned up desk or a caddy with cleaning supplies in a prominent spot.

And my absolute favorite: Throw a dice. When it is really bad, one thing I can always do is throw a dice (via an app, typing "d20" into the search bar or physically having one on me - which I usually do now). I tell myself that if I "make the roll" I get up and do it and if I don't, I try again in 20 minutes. This changes context easily, removes responsibility from me and makes the whole thing playful. I usually go with a d20 and tell myself to get going with a result over 10. If I have a particularly bad day I might need 15+ to do something. Just try it.

In short, what we are trying to do is

minimize friction by frontloading as much thinking and preparing as we can

make a context change as easy and small as possible

And remember: the goal is never to Always Be Doing Something.

#ADHD talk

[tbgkaru-woh]

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

#dialogue prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts

[blueicequeen19]

Methods

Warnings: non-con, drugging, kidnapping, use of toys, overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, choking, throat training

My eyes water as I blink against the hardness of the single lightbulb in the mildew, scented shack I'm being kept in. It was dark when they grabbed me and it appears to be still dark outside judging by the chill in my bones from still being in my bikini. I curse myself for not listening to my brother when he told me not to go anywhere alone. I didn't think that applied to night surfing in my own backyard. I shift my weight from foot to foot, my wrists killing me from being tied together with scratchy rope and suspended above my head.

My brother will make them pay.

I will make them all pay.

"She lives." I turn towards the voice, my hands balling into fists as JJ Maybank steps into the light. I didn't notice him before but I quickly take in the black duffle bag on the small wooden table, a single chair, and a small folding bed.

"You sound disappointed." My voice cracks, my lips chapped and in need of water. I don't even sound like myself.

"More like relieved. I gave you a pretty high dose to knock you out. It would've sucked if I accidentally killed you." Bits and pieces of our altercation start to come back to me and I smirk over the sight of his busted lip. His face remains hard and his eyes stay narrowed. I know I'm in a bad situation and what this is all about but I can't find it in myself to care. If I die protecting my family then I do.

"You're awfully cocky for someone tied up." JJ bites out, stepping closer to glare down his nose at me. I try to seize the opportunity of his closeness but he's quicker, his ringed fingers wrapping around my throat and shoving my back against the wood paneling before I can attempt to headbutt him.

"Don't even think about it." JJ growls, tightening his grip to the point that my eyes water and my throat burns. I thrash against him, worried I'll pass out when he finally loosens his grip enough to let me suck in a rough breath.

"You.. might as.. well skip to... the torture because I w-won't.. talk." I spat, his hand still hot on my throat. His thumb strokes my pulse point as he leans into my neck, his musky cologne filling my head as he inhales deeply.

"You smell like a wet dog." JJ murmurs, his lips next to my ear. I jerk against his hold as his hand tightens around my throat again. "But there are other ways of getting someone to talk." His voice lowers to a sinister whisper that has panic settling deep in my bones.

"Not so mouthy now, are ya?" JJ taunts as he shoves his knee between mine and presses against my pussy, making me squirm and whimper.

"Girls like you who are used to being in control want nothing more than to be dominated. Tied up, held down, and fucked until they can't walk." I jerk against him, unable to speak from the tight grip on my throat as he moves his knee back and forth. I stare up at the ceiling, blinking back tears as heat floods my body and my pussy throbs with need.

"I can feel how hard your nipples are. Still don't want to talk?" JJ whispers, his lips grazing my cheek while his free hand tugs on the strings of my bikini. A scoff leaves my lips, giving him my answer and I feel him smile.

"I guess we'll play then." JJ suddenly steps back, removing all forms of himself from my skin and I suck in a breath as my pulse echoes in my ears. I watch as he shoves the table and chair closer than rummages through the duffle bag. His eyes light up when he holds up a pair of nipple clamps and I bear my teeth in warning.

"Let's start with these." JJ steps back in front of me but hesitates, almost like he's waiting for me to spill but I refuse. I glare at him as he tucks both of the bikini triangles to the side to reveal my painfully hard nipples. It's from the stimulation.

"These would look so much better pierced." I look away as he secures the clamps to each of my nipples, a chain connecting them in the middle, then he tightens them until tears fill my eyes.

"These are going to be so sore tomorrow." JJ chuckles, returning to the duffle bag. My nipples are on fire and I have to take several breaths to calm myself while he searches for whatever it is he wants next. They almost hurt more than my wrists. But I don't care what he does to me now. He'll have no choice but to let me go eventually. People will come looking.

When his bright blue eyes find mine and his lips tip up into a mischievous smirk, I know he's found what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he's able to conceal in the palm of his hand as he steps back in front of me.

"Are you dripping yet?" JJ purrs, his free hand pulling the ties free on my bikini bottoms. They fall to the floor, leaving me bare for him.

"Fuck you." I spat, clamping my legs closed. He tugs on the chain between my nipples and I cry out, my legs immediately opening again.

"Let's start with this." He holds up a small pink vibrator with a string attached that is almost shaped like an egg. He presses it to my lips but I seal them shut until he tugs on the chain again and my lips part on a cry. JJ shoves the toy past my teeth, making me taste the silicone as he forces it in and out of my mouth.

"Suck on it. You want it wet." JJ demands, his eyes dark with desire. I do as he says, staring up at the ceiling as the droll starts to drip down my chin. When he yanks it from my mouth, followed by a string of saliva, he spins me around to face the wall before I can protest.

"What are--." My words trail off with a startled yelp as he yanks my hips back and spreads my cheeks.

"Wait--wait--!" I cry as he squats down behind me.

"Ready to talk?" JJ asks, looking up at me with hard eyes. I bite my lip, refusing to give in as I shake my head.

The toy is pressed to my hole and he slowly starts to push it inside me. Burning pain practically blinds me and I cry out, fearing the pain will never end when it finally does.

“Now?” He asks, sliding his hand between my thighs and chuckling by what he finds. I hate him. HATE. HIM. I'm shaking and sweating from the fullness, my clit throbbing in tune with my heart rate. I feel him move then the thing comes to life, vibrating inside me.

A choked moan leaves my lips as he forces me to turn and face him again. The vibrations are low enough to be irritating but not enough to get me close to an orgasm yet I can’t stop my legs from shaking. His expression is mocking, like he’s trying not to laugh as I whimper and squirm in front of him. I hate him even more.

“I bet you’ve never had anyone back there before, have you?” JJ taunts, smiling as he taps something on his phone and the vibrations increase. A startled noice slips past my lips and I quickly clamp them shut, glaring daggers back at him. He pockets his phone and grabs my hips, yanking me against his chest. Pain shoots through me from the pressure against my abused nipples but I refuse to make a sound.

“I’m going to fill all your holes if you don’t talk.” His voice lowering in warning as he speaks in my ear. I lift up on my toes, the buzzing driving me crazy with need. I wonder if I can cum without any vaginal penetration or clit stimulation. I’m teetering on the ledge as his warm hands start to slide up and down my waist in an almost soothing manner. The light touches raise the hairs on my arms and send sparks up my spine.

“I hate you.” I growl through clenched teeth, my pussy pulsing almost painfully as his hands start to drift lower but never giving me what I need.

“And I want to hate fuck you.” JJ murmurs back, the tip of his tongue suddenly sliding along my neck and making me whimper. I can’t focus. There’s too much stimulation. A finger brushes over my clit, making my hips buck and a loud moan escapes me.

“Please..” The word slips out of me before I can stop it. I try to lean into his touch but he withdraws, resorting to light touches that have me squeezing my eyes shut.

“Squeeze your legs together.” JJ demands, stepping back and unbuttoning his tented cargo shorts. I’m burning with anticipation as I watch him free his painfully hard cock and stroke himself a few times. I’m too busy watching him that I fail to listen so he steps forward and yanks on the chain connecting my nipples, making me cry out and tears spill.

“Last chance to talk. I get wanting to be strong for your brother but he’d sell you out in a heartbeat. You have to know that.” JJ growls, the heat of his cock burning against my stomach. I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak anymore. I’m blinded by desire and know that I’d end up begging him to fuck me.

“How do you think this is going to go?” JJ reaches between us to guide his cock between my thighs and through my slick wetness. My eyes threaten to close as he moves in and out between my lips without slipping inside.

“What will he think when I send him a video of you begging me to fuck you? Will he cut his losses or try to find you?” I shake my head, whimpering as I roll my hips to meet his movements. I’ve never ached to be filled so badly in my life.

“You’re awfully wet for someone who hates me.” I try to turn my head away when suddenly the vibrations in my ass increase and I sob loudly, his hands tightening on my hips.

“I’d only have to put the tip in and you’d make a fucking mess all over both of us.” His pace increases as he thrusts his cock between my pussy lips.

“I can’t..” I’m shaking violently as I peer up into his bright blue eyes. Everything hurt and was buzzing with need.

“Tell me where your brother is and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make you cum so hard you pass out.” I whimper when he leans in to kiss along my neck, the heat of his body burning me alive. I can’t think while his cock is being thrust between my thighs.

“I don’t need you to make me cum.” I bite out, glaring at him as I move my hips in time with his thrusts. JJ gives me a wicked grin before halting my movements with a firm grip on my hips. I growl in frustration as he steps back, dick swinging before he turns to rummage through the duffle back again. When he pulls out a wand vibrator the size of my forearm I nearly start sobbing.

“Wait.. JJ..”

“Start talking.” JJ growls, turning the wand on high and running it down my stomach towards my mound.

“I can’t tell you where he is because I don’t know where he is.” I cry, tearing filling my eyes as he stops less than an inch from my clit. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I can’t catch my breath. I need to cum so badly I can’t see straight.

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes are murderous as he moves the wand to my clit and I suck in a breath to scream when four of his fingers force their way in my mouth. The pleasure is so intense that it quickly turns painful. Tears fall as I gag around his fingers and he makes me cum so hard that everything goes black for a few seconds.

I lose track of how many times I cum. I’m practically convulsing and tears are streaming down my face while I gag around his fingers. My pussy is sore beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Not that I ever had experience before this.

“You need to work on that gag reflex.” JJ clicks his tongue, smirking at all the droll sliding down my chin as he forces his fingers to the back of my throat.

“A slut like you should be a pro by now.” JJ sneers, removing his fingers from my mouth and putting them in place of the wand. I’m fighting to catch my breath, my jaw aching as he toys with my labia, massaging and rolling the flesh between his fingers.

“I’m not a slut.” I pant, just as one of his fingers penetrates. His eyes narrow for a moment as he pushes in just a little deeper before they widen in disbelief.

“No fucking way.” JJ whispers, shaking his head with a smirk without withdrawing his finger.

“I told you.” I snap with what little strength I have left. My body was aching to be filled. I could tell with how crazed I felt from just his finger half inside me. I was seconds away from fucking myself on his hand.

“This just got a lot more fun.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #wattpad #tw dark content #dark!fic #blueicequeen19 #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank

[furiousgoldfish]

When I was a little kid, I asked my mother 'What does a child need to survive in a desert?'. She wouldn't give me a straight answer, so I had to pull it out of her bit by bit. Would a child live if they had fruit? 'That's not enough', she said. Would it work if the child had milk? 'Maybe'. I kept asking what else, and then she put the dots together, and figured out why I was asking. 'Children can't survive without their mother', she told me curtly. I frowned, not liking this response. 'But, if they had fruit and milk?' I insisted. 'No. Child can't survive without a mother. Don't even think about it.'

But, I was thinking about it, and she knew it. She knew I was trying to find a way to escape the house we were living in. I was 6, maybe 7 at the time. She repeated over and over to me, you would die outside this house. Nobody else would take you in, there's no place for you anywhere else. You would only be a burden.

I didn't like that. I didn't like the idea of being a burden anywhere. But, I supposed she was right, other people didn't need a stray kid.

In my quest of not being a burden, I wanted to learn how to work. In the house I lived in, there were countless chores to be done, but somehow I was always stuck with the ones that required no knowledge or skill. Put the logs over there, clean, carry this over there, sweep, scrub, throw, wash, dig, gather, relocate, hold, lift, put down, bury, shut up, and don't ask questions. I wouldn't get any answers even if I did ask, why am I doing this, whats it for? I wasn't to know. I was kept blind, following orders, up to myself to figure out what was this a part of.

When I'd be ordered to do something I didn't know how, I would be told I 'should have learned it by watching others do it', but I was never free to watch while others worked. In fact, if anyone in the house was doing anything, and I was sitting or lying down, I would be screamed at for 'just watching others work and doing nothing'.

Reaching adulthood, I really wanted to know about cooking, but mother always chased me out of the kitchen if she was making something, or she would chore me with 'peeling the vegetables', which would then take all of my attention. I tried to sneak into the kitchen and learn by myself, but she chased me away as soon as she'd catch me, telling me off for 'wasting resources'. But, as she noticed my inclination, she decided to inform me, in a very clear manner, that I would never in my life know how to cook. You see, I was clumsy, slow, stupid, and would always only mess it up and waste precious ingredients. It was far above my abilities to learn how to cook. She gave me a clove of garlic to cut, and I couldn't do it well on my first try. She told me it was a proof that I was 'no good'. Then she gave me an onion to cut, and yelled at me for 'taking too long'. Now it was proven twice over. I couldn't cook. Everything would be ruined because I was taking too long to cut the vegetables. Also, I didn't know where food was even stored in the kitchen. She would never show me. (The food was stored in boxes in the basement. I would find out years later.)

With a heavy heart, I gave up on learning how to cook, and resigned myself to feeling forever guilty for 'eating their food', which was something my family regularly held over my head. You know, after I helped digging, working the soil, sowing, planting, weeding and spraying, it was still their land, and their food, and I 'had no right to it'. They were careful never to show me how to actually grow food, but just kept me busy with menial tasks that were never explained to me.

I was convinced my mother was a good person, because she usually wouldn't forbid me to eat, and if she wanted me to do a task, she would tell me in a humane way. For example 'Can you do x?'. The other family members had a more crude way, something like 'Why are you waiting to be told, do I have to spell out everything to you??' so her polite manner had completely won me over, I would have done anything for my sickly, poor, kind and generous mother, who was so worried for my troubled self, who couldn't learn how to do anything, or survive outside the house.

Even though my mother repeated through the years, that I would never be able to do anything, and also berated me if I ever tried to learn a new skill because 'it was worthless and wouldn't earn me any money', I would still sometimes gather a bit of momentum and courage, and figure hey, I should try to get a job. It would take months to gather that kind of confidence. And one such time, I announced my intentions, I'm going to look for a job! My mother laughed without looking at me. 'Who would hire you? You can't do anything.' Poof. That was my balloon of confidence, popping and then deflating into a tiny bulb. I didn't think she had any reason to lie to me. She knew me all my life. If she was confident that I can't do anything... then it had to be true. Otherwise why would she say that?

The rest of the family, of course, agreed. My grandmother, she had fantastic stories to share with me about how quickly I would be kidnapped, robbed, murdered, tortured, sold into slavery, you know all that good stuff that happens to every person outside their parents house. My father, who inherited massive amounts of land, 2 houses, illegally got his hands on a third, earned a very formidable salary, and constantly had me working for free for him, told me that it was in fact, impossible for a person to survive out there without inheritance. I frowned because I didn't agree with this, and I asked, what about the people who get a job and move into the city? They were living just from their wages. He shook his head and said that it may look like that, but they're all just living from their family's resources. I was old enough to not believe him. It's him who couldn't live without his inheritance, because he's an idiot, I thought.

So, I finally got to earn some money online. It was slow, and very tiny amount, I was freelancing and there was no consistent income, but my enthusiasm on being able to earn anything, was strong. After all, I had earned absolutely nothing working for my family for forever, and this was mine. I remember securing a big project and rushing to reassure my mother, to tell her that I was in fact, good for something, and she didn't have to worry anymore, I was going to make something of myself.

'You will never get another project again.' Her face was dead serious. 'You were lucky once. Don't count on this happening again'. I was speechless. Self doubt swallowed me whole. Was this only one-time occurrence? Was I stupid to believe it would happen again? I despaired. She was my mother, and she was older than me, and she knew the world better than I did. She wouldn't say this for no reason. Could she be right?

She brought it up to the rest of the family, and they all had things to say about it. 'Online work isn't real. The money doesn't even exist. You'll never see it. Show us where is this money. You can't, can you? And even if it does exist, it will all get stolen from you'.

Leaving me wrapped in my survival panic attack, they went on with their day, satisfied that they put me back in my place (which was an ongoing panic attack). I eventually recovered, and continued to work on projects. I was approached and told I would fail constantly, but even then, what could I do but work with my anxiety levels up to the roof and wait to fail? I had to try.

I didn't believe I would make it, because my mother's words 'you'll die, you'll die' were on repeat in my head, but I realized I would die in that house anyway, so I ran away from home. My mother was worried about me; she was in fact, so worried she called every person who knew me, all of friends, relatives, their kids, and told them about how badly worried she was for me, and how I needed to come back home. These people, well they were all worried too you see, so they had to call me, to tell me that I'm breaking my mother's heart, that I don't know how it feels to have a child and not know if their child is okay, apparently she was crying every time it rained because she thought I might be outside in the rain.

My guilt was activated, but I knew just what to do to resolve this situation. I responded to my mother's call, and she told me too, that she was dying from worry, so I said, listen! Listen to what I have! And I went around the apartment, and I listed all of the groceries I had bought and stored. I listed everything out to her, and then explained how to make multiple meals, I offered proof to her that I had already, in this short time, learned how to cook, and I was doing fine. I was sure she'd be so relieved to know that her child had food.

In my mind we were continuing the conversation we had when I was six. I have milk and fruit now mommy. You said I might survive if I have that.

'Okay, we KNOW you can do everything yourself--' She interrupted me angrily, unwilling to listen to my ongoing list of resources and skills. I froze. '--but you need to think about what you're doing to us and come back home!'

I hung up. Unbelieving. Two things I've been told in that sentence, and I had a hard time believing either. She- they- KNEW I could do everything myself. Since when? For how long? How could she possibly say this, after telling me my whole life, not only that I didn't know anything, but was too stupid to even learn? She knew I was capable the entire time? She knew I'd do just fine? And, she was angry about it. Hearing the list of resources and skills I had, it made her livid. After crying to all these people, and convincing me she was dying out of worry, she wasn't worried even one little bit. It was all fake. The entire time. She could either tell I was capable the entire time, or.. she never cared enough to even tell. It didn't matter. It only mattered that she convinced me that I can't survive. So I wouldn't run. So I would stay in that house, and so she could watch her violent husband, and violent mother in law beat me and call me animal names. While blocking my only possible exit.

Later I found out she changed her story. She was now telling people that I was now 'rich but so selfish I would not give any of my money to her'. It was almost funny. Her perspective of me rapidly shifted from 'incapable idiot who cannot survive' to 'selfish rich snob who won't give money'.

It stung. I had spent my life trying to protect her. Even after running, all I could think was how badly I wanted to take her away from that violent place, how much I wanted happiness for her. She watched me dying in that house and blocked my exit. She threw me back into the hands of violence and cheered them on as they broke me. She watched a kid being broken and told that kid they could not live, except if they stay and continue being broken, over and over again. I got jealous of all of the mothers who helped their kids escape. And of all the kids whose mothers escaped, taking them with. Keeping them safe. Why wasn't I worth keeping safe? But I can't look back in that way. That's not it. There was nobody to keep me safe. Nobody was my mother. Nobody was my parent.

My six year old self reached their goal. What does a child need to survive in a desert? Some fruit. And some milk. And some other groceries also don't hurt. And definitely not a mother like this one.

#abusive mother #recognizing abuse #cruelty concealed as worry #escape sabotage #mother keeping a child trapped in abuse #using a child as a shield from violence #abusers keeping your confidence down to stop you from escaping #abusers lying through their teeth #child abuse #survival resources #toxic family #toxic mother #i don't even know what her deal is #but her cruelty crushed me

[kneelingshadowsalome]

so, i’m currently taking a west civics class in college, and i am currently researching ancient greek civilizations, most notably, the arts and culture of ancient greece. i know you have written a fic based on its mythological stories, with minotaur könig (bless your beautiful soul).

but through my readings, i couldn’t help but come up with such a dirty daydreams while in class. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking about könig and… the ancient olympics…

i know, realistically speaking, women were not allowed to attend or watch these games for the most part. so, in a universe where könig’s dedication not only falls upon him being a top man, but being the perfect man in honor of being recognized by the god of strength himself, he becomes so enticing in the way he trains and readies himself for such a significant event of his life. he’s never really had much to care for, neither does he need to prioritize anything that isn’t him or his training. he’s a workhorse, nothing stopping him from being the best, most valuable follower of zeus. that is… until…

well, it was your fault, and you admit that, but he wasn’t stopping you either. i mean, who could blame you, this little thing sneaking and peeping at a man who’s at work in order to provide to cute women like yourself. in fact, you argue that this was your way of appreciating a man, to observe them in their element in such a loving gaze. it didn’t help that könig was a man who preferred to train naked too, in all his glory, so of course there was no missing you, you were just too obvious for a man like him to notice you.

and with every grunt he’d give after each swing of a fist or a blade, a mew is what you’d give in return, your own form of a cheer for him to keep going. and you promised you didn’t mean to stare and make distracting noises, but an innocent maiden like yourself was just too hypnotized by this new anatomy that was found between this man’s legs. so outspoken, so dirty for your mouth to spew such beautiful filth to a stranger.

was this könig’s new test of endurance? part of the program to make him stronger for the olympic event that was just around the corner. he has heard man advising others to refrain from sex before the games, but he hadn’t even been given the chance to work on that since no one was bold enough to approach him like you did. he wonders, does fucking before a game really make a man weak, does thinking about shoving his big dumb cock in his soon-to-be wife distract him too much to succeed? perhaps, perhaps not, one thing he does know though, he’s got someone else to honor and worship, which makes his training all the more necessary.

Oh my god….. I’m totes not getting caught up in the fact that women were not allowed to participate in these activities….

This led me to think, what if some misbehaving little creature decided to peep at this Hercules reborn? She gets caught one day, but because she’s absolutely carefree and unhinged, she asks König if he could show her how to train.

CW: Nudity, implied sexism/misogyny (Ancient Greek society thang), teasing König to the point where he gets a boner and growls

Our Olympian hero gets so confused that he forgets he was supposed to report you or throw you out of the gym. Outside, where birds fly free and the sun tortures the trainees, he has picked a spot where he can train in solitude and silence: for some reason, other people’s stares make him uncomfortable… Until this curious, sweet little nymph came around, perched atop a wide rock, munching some wild mountain herb as she watched him train.

He allowed her to watch him train for two days, but on the third, he marched over to her and told her she needs to leave. Women are not allowed here, doesn’t she know that? Where are her parents? Does she have a husband?

No, no husband, and her parents don’t really care what she does. Well, this explains why she’s behaving this way. Running around the hillside so untame, watching men train—can’t she see she’s putting herself in danger? Any one of these men could decide to just take her on the barren land if she’s not careful.

She just giggles and asks, would he like to take her? Then points out that men shouldn’t waste their seed before a big competition. Also, Zeus’s wife would not think well of him if she saw him rut innocent women on the hill... There’s nothing but heaven above them, surely someone would see. The gods could curse him with a weak ankle, or a sprained muscle, a failing heart or a snake bite…

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” he says, but there’s even worse to come.

Next, she asks if he could show her how to lift those smaller rocks, how to throw a javelin or a discus. Could he teach her how to wrestle…?

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs while his groin floods with warmth at the thought of wrestling with this pretty, wonton woman. She’s absolutely disgraceful, and yet, he doubts she’s running from man to man, teasing them to death. She’s not begging to get raped, she’s just… a little gullible, or something. Happened to take interest in him, little thing. As she should, after all, he’s the pride of this city...

“You fear I’ll become better than you?” She asks with little stars in her stare.

“Bah. Don’t be ridiculous...”

They’re both smiling, now. This kind of banter and games he has never experienced with a lady, she’s making him extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, fly high like Icarus. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t get burned…

When he still refuses to show her how to train, she shrugs and goes over to the wooden javelin that’s taller than her. Picking it up, he expects the gods to smite her down with a sudden hail or thunder, but nothing happens. The sun keeps on shining, and the sheep keep on baaing. She weighs it with two hands, then starts to look for a spot to try and throw it.

“Wait,” he calls after her, but she only looks back at him with a smile. Picks off to run, with the javelin securely in her right hand, she runs like a deer while he lumbers after her, completely perplexed.

Insufferable woman… He’s growing hard from the cock as he runs, somehow aroused by this silly chase. Like Apollo trying to court Daphne, but his Daphne is not meek and unwilling; she’s giggling as he huffs and runs after her like a stumbling giant.

At a distant field of nothing but rock and weather-beaten flowers, she stops. Shields her eyes as she looks for a perfect spot, she’s not even breathless when he finally catches her. She turns around to look at her hero, catching his breath in the sun.

“You’re not fit enough for a marathon,” she comments. “Did you lift too many weights?”

“Give me the javelin,” he pants, dismissing her blunt analysis of his weaknesses. Stepping towards her, he extends his hand, offering her a chance to return it to him without fuss.

“Wrestle it from me,” she smiles, so playfully and brightly that his cock suffers another throb.

Gods damn this woman... She’s toying, playing with him, teasing him to the point where he’s left no choice.

He doesn’t want to hurt her, which means the “wrestling” becomes an awkward battle of snickers and limbs. His cock gets in the way, and to an outsider, this might look like a scene of an oddly gentle, upcoming rape… This little minx is giving him such an ache in his head and his loins that he’s gritting his teeth by the time he gets his hands around the wooden spear. By then, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms above her head as she’s lying on her back with him on top of her.

“I’m not letting go,” she laughs as they both hold the spear, his erection now blissfully trapped between her legs.

“Who sent you,” he grunts, head spinning as he tries to figure out which of the gods is trying to give him trouble this time.

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re here to thwart and tease me. Tell me who sent you, now.”

“You think I’m sent by some angry god?”

Her eyes sparkle even more, if possible. She even giggles under him and under the sun, her laugh like a thousand little bells in his ears.

“That’s so cute…!”

His grunts turn into a hollow, painful growl – even Tartaros is better than this.

“Train me, and I’ll let you have your silly javelin,” she smiles, even licking her lips before they purse together innocently.

But he knows she’s far from innocent. She has to be a curse of some sort, a plight sent here to torment him, because he finds himself sighing, “Alright…”

He gives her one condition: she has to wear clothes; no flaunting herself around him and especially not around the other men if they were to ever see her. They will both get flogged or worse if this mockery comes to daylight… She gives him a soft, adoring smile this time, and says of course, whatever he says.

The next day, she’s waiting for him at the training grounds, javelin in her hands…

Completely, utterly naked.

#könig x reader #könig x you #silliness #torturing könig #we all know how this will end so i don't have to write a full fic for it right ^^

[wqnwoos]

the universe is always working against you, because somehow, vernon is always the one to catch you at your most embarrassing moments.

it’s not like you guys are even close — you’re in the same friend group, but you’re more orbiting around each other. the only time you interact one-on-one is usually because you’ve ended up humiliating yourself entirely, and he’s seen the whole thing. which would be fine, if, you know, you didn’t have a big fat crush on him.

the first time you met him, you tripped and sprawled at his feet. outside. in the college courtyard. and you, brightest of the bunch, looked up at his sneakers from the grass, and offered nothing but, “oh, hey, your shoes are untied!” — and after a short pause — “also, ow.”

when you had finally gotten up, with vernon’s help and joshua’s laughter, there’d been a glaring green grass stain on your white t-shirt. vernon had offered a spare t-shirt; you’d declined, backed away and said it was your new style. top ten most embarrassing things to ever leave your mouth.

since then, every encounter with chwe vernon has been intensely humiliating for you, and probably free entertainment for him. you’ve tripped in front of him more times than you can count. dropped (iced) coffee on his shirt. gotten his wired headphones caught in your bag strap — you still don’t know how that happened. once, he’d been the only person kind enough to tell you that you had toilet paper stuck to your shoe.

and now there’s this; you, at 2 in the morning in a mcdonald’s parking lot, having an enthusiastic karaoke session with your mcflurry spoon as a mic and a miffy air freshener as your audience, realising that vernon is the dude who’s just parked next to you, and he’s watching you with possibly the most amused grin you’ve ever seen him wear.

because you’d been into it — blasting your music, tossing your head dramatically and making all sorts of gestures to accompany it, until you’d realised a car has parked beside you. at which point you’d frozen, music still blaring, mcflurry spoon still pointed towards your lips, making eye contact with one delighted chwe vernon.

he rolls his window down, and, reluctantly, you do the same, twisting the volume button on your radio as you do.

“hi,” he says, lips twitching in an effort to maintain his composure.

you groan, dragging a hand over your face. “go on. you can laugh.”

“why would i laugh at a — a natural performer?” he asks, but he can’t suppress it; a laugh bubbles out, and you feel yourself shrink.

“if you ever breathe a word of this — ” you warn, and cut yourself off, because you don’t even know what to threaten him with. “unspeakable consequences,” you finish finally.

“unspeakable?” he repeats, and you give him a solemn nod.

“unspeakable.”

“understood,” he agrees, with a mock salute. “so, uh, what exactly are you — doing?”

“mid-terms,” you explain briefly; but maybe the sleep-deprivation is getting to you, because you’re suddenly asking him a question. “vernon?”

“yeah?”

“how come you’re only here at my most embarrassing moments?” you don’t even give him a chance to answer, rambling on before he can cut in. “like, i am not usually this clumsy. or stupid. or anything. but the second you show up, i’m tripping over my own feet like a — like a baby learning how to walk!”

he blinks at you slowly. “i don’t… know? i thought you were just naturally clumsy!”

“no!” you object, “it’s just when you’re around! you make me nervous! and then i just humiliate myself, which is so annoying, because you’re so cool, and — fuck a duck, i’m doing it again.” the last sentence is punctuated with you bumping your head forward in frustration — but you do it a little too hard, colliding with the steering wheel and causing a loud honk! to ring through the parking lot immediately.

vernon can’t help the laughter that escapes him at your mortified expression, leaning an arm over his open car window. “it’s okay,” he reassures, still grinning, when you cover your face in embarrassment. “i think it’s cute that you’re clumsy.”

“but i’m not clums— wait.” you stop your own protesting wail to turn to him in shock.

he cocks an eyebrow. “i’m waiting.”

“say that again!”

“what? that i think you’re cute?” his smile is becoming wider by the second.

“wow.” you look straight ahead, facing the empty parking lot and taking a breath.“okay. okay. thank you, vernon.”

“you’re very welcome, ___,” he mimics, smiling innocently when you cast him a look.

“i think you’re just making fun of me now, and so i’m going to go.”

vernon raises his hands and shrugs. “i won’t stop you.” and then suddenly he extends his arm towards you. “actually, i need to text a friend first. can i borrow your phone for a sec?”

dubiously, you hand your unlocked phone to him, and when he hands it over, you can see the new created contact “vernon 👽”, and the text he’s sent to himself.

he smiles at you, softer and less teasing this time. “text me when you get home, alright?”

you yank your hand away from his, pointing at him with your free hand. “oh, you smooth motherfucker.”

an / writing everything except my requests at this point. i’m sorry guys 😭

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon comfort #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen comfort #vernon fic #vernon x y/n #vernon scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen headcanons

[asimpwithfreetime]

Mr. Steal your girl (Tsu’tey x fem!reader / Jake Sully x Neytiri)

Summary: Tsu’tey tries to make Jake mad by dating his mate (He doesn’t know that you are not Jake’s human mate but his sister)

This fic is way looooonger than I expected.

Kind of a fluffy one-shot

Warnings: none I could think of.

Let’s pretend that Tsu’tey didn’t die, okay?

Also, I wrote this at 6 am in the morning and I have to wake up at seven, this might be the longest sleep deprived rant I’ve done.

English is not my first language

[ Reader’s POV ]

Jake has been acting strange since he became an avatar user, he barely sleeps o eats. He is always with Dr. Grace talking about Na’vis and their culture. I’ve also heard him talk about a woman, Neytiri I think.

Sometimes I wish I could go have adventures with him, running around Pandora freely. Not being small enough to be eaten by almost EVERYTHING.

Once the war with the sky people, no longer our workmates, started, I chose to fight on the side of the Na’vis, even though, none of them knew me.

I got injured during the battle. My brother, in his avatar form, picked me up, biding goodbye to his mate and bringing me back to our base to let Norm patch me up. I almost didn’t notice the freezing cold gaze that fell upon me.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

So the demon with a fake body already had a mate with the sky people. She looks extremely weak. And he just PICKED HER UP in such a loving and caring way!? In front of Neytiri, as if nothing was wrong.

I walked towards Neytiri, but she didn’t seem upset. Okay, I’ll need to figure this out.

[ Few days after ]

[ Y/n’ POV ]

I was almost cured enough to go outside again. Even if I needed an oxygen mask to breath outside, it felt so freeing to see Pandora.

I didn’t want to wait any longer, so when Jake and Norm were distracted, I went out, into the forest. At first, I felt lost, but soon I found my way around it. Nature was beautiful here and we had stopped its destruction.

Stepping though the forest, I found a small lake and I walked up to it to see my reflexion. Standing closely to it I could see myself, but when I looked closely I could see the tree branches. In one of them there was a Na’vi, his bow was prepared to shoot me and he didn’t seem very happy.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I thought all humans were forced to leave the other day, except for some of Jakesully’s friends. I didn’t see any human women between them. I MUST kill her.

I followed her around the forest, I tried to be as silent as possible. She looked weak. Suddenly I remembered myself thinking the exact same thing. THIS IS JAKESULLY’S MATE. He didn’t show her to us because he wanted her all for himself while still having Neytiri. That bastard!

If I killed her, Jakesully would have to tell the truth right? Or maybe he would get so mad he would go back to his stupid dying planet.

I prepared my bow, pointing the arrow directly at her. She was so relaxed here, she wouldn’t expect this. But, she was looking into a lake, I couldn’t see it properly but I knew something was up when she tensed up. She turned around looking directly at me. For a split of a second I felt bad. I looked at her, her face soft and beautiful. Wait! Did I just though this human piece of meat was beautiful?

I tensed my bow a little bit more to scare her. She pulled her hands up in the air and said “Don’t kill me please!”. I thought about it. She was so weak she didn’t seem like a problem. But she was still Jakesully’s mate.

My mind raced, maybe Jake was being unfaithful to both of them and she wasn’t the one to fault. I brought my bow down and jumped from the tree. She was so small compared to me. From up close I could she her poor body shaking while she looked at me with a pleading look en her eyes.

When we were close enough I said, trying to sound strong even though my accent was not very good. “I am not going to kill you, sky demon”. She looked at me, still doubting it. I was about to tell her to go off to her base and never come back here, but an idea crossed my mind. What if I steal Jakesully’s mate?

Mine died, then her parents promised me Neytiri, I did like her, even though she wasn’t my real mate. Then Jakesully had to come and ruin it, once again sky people broke my chances of being happy. I almost died in the fight and lost all my privileges I would get for being the clan’s chief. I was degraded just for a sky demon in a Na’vi flesh disguise.

I waited for three and a half years, Jakesully did it in one week. I looked at her when my idea seemed perfect. If a human stole my Na’vi mate, a Na’vi will steal his human mate. Perfect.

Just as I was thinking that, a woodsprite fell onto her head. Was Eywa saying that I should do it? Was Ewya giving me back what’s fair?

I smiled mischievously. The woman looked terrified.

[ Y/n’s POV ]

He was smiling at me just right after he was aiming at me with a bow and arrow. “Are you okay?”

He seemed to snap out if his trance. He pulled his bow and arrow to his side, not shooting it. “Who are you? Why are you here? You weren’t with the scientists that would stay here” his words were accusing, but his accent was adorable, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.

“I am Y/n. Y/n Sully” his face darkened at the saying of my surname.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I knew she was his mate. Humans give each other their supernames? Subnames? Sournames? Whatever!

I knew she had to be with him.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey began the Na’vi courting with Y/n. Sometimes she blushed at his advances, something that made him really proud. But other times she was oblivious to them.

Once he was close enough he kissed her, copying how Jake kissed Neytiri. Just with a smaller figure. He had taken off her mask for a second, kissing her roughly. She was red as a tomato.

Tsu’tey should admit that he began doing that to annoy Jakesully and to steal his mate as a revenge. But now he did want to steal her.

[ A month later or so ]

Tsu’tey felt nervous, he didn’t know how the mating would go as they would need help of the Tsa’hìk. He went to look for Jake. “Jake I am going to mate your human mate” he said, in English.

“Tsu’tey, brother, I think you might have messed up the sentence” Jake thought that the Na’vi had said something wrong because of the language.

He repeated the same words, now in Na’vi and Jake was as dumbfounded as before.

“Y/n, I am talking about Y/n” Tsu’tey explained. Jake started laughing. “What’s so funny? I courted her better than you could every imagine” Tsu’tey felt that laugh as a taunt to his pride.

“Y/n isn’t my mate” Jake hollered between laughs. “But she has your sourname!” Tsu’tey said.

“She is my sister!” Jake began laughing again. Tsu’tey felt his face loosing color. He looked dumbfounded. He still loved Y/n but now he felt like a fool.

#avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar tsu'tey #tsu’tey #tsu’tey x reader

[manifestingenius]

Why it's important not to always rely on void and putting your life on hold.

I haven't written posts for a very long time because I decided to focus on my present life. But I wanted to write this specific post.

After knowing about the void state I put my life on hold so much. I stopped doing 85% of the things I was doing before I learned about the void. It's embarrassing how I stopped caring about everything and was hoping and telling myself that I'm gonna enter the void this week anyway. Nothing really matters, right? I didn't answer to any of my seminars and colloquiums and barely studied for exams which lead me to losing my scholarship. I cried so so hard because I was angry at myself. I thought that I would enter the void in the summer so the exams and the results didn't matter to me. But I was so broken afterwards.

I never bought myself the things I wanted because I thought "I'm gonna manifest it all for free in the void anyway, why bother now?". I never went to places I wanted because I thought "I will have a lot of money to afford everything I want so why bother now?". I put all my focus and time on reading about void, reading posts on tumblr, trying all the methods and just hoping.

I planned to put videos on Youtube but was so shy and every day I was improving all the skills that were needed for me to be successful. I read a lot, I watched a lot of self improvement content, I watched lots of law of assumption videos, I took classes, in other words I was passionate. I was living. I put everything aside and became so lazy "Why even waste time doing all of this when I can have it all after the void?".

I stopped even trying to improve myself because I thought that I'm gonna manifest being my best self anyway. I was eating fast food 3-4 times a week and gained a lot of weight which made me insecure even more but I consoled myself that it's only for now, that I'm gonna manifest my dream body and everything will be fine.

I wanted to buy some makeup but didn't. I wanted to get laser hair removal for a long time and didn't. I wanted to hit the gym and didn't. I wanted to draw and make money out of it and didn't. And so much more. I missed out on so much and I regret it.

After I lost my scholarship I realized that I messed up a lot. Now I have some problems with a subject I failed and my mom has to pay money so that I can take the classes again. Now I can't afford anything because I don't have my own money, I can't go to work, my parents give me some money but it's not enough for my needs and wants.

I realized that my life became so miserable. 2023 was so wasted. One day I was asked what did I learn from 2023 and I couldn't answer because I didn't know. In 2023 I have only degraded tbh.

The saddest thing is that I was warned. I was warned by other people on tumblr to not put void on the pedestal and to not put my life on the hold. I ignored them all thinking that I'm not gonna be like them, I'm not gonna struggle as long as them. It's gonna take me much less time and everything will be fine. But turns out they were right and I made many mistakes. Turns out I'm still on my void journey even after 1 year and 2 months. I really thought it's gonna take me 1 month or smth. Funny.

After realizing that I need to change my life, I put void aside and focused on the present. I bought some things I wanted and I don't waste money on fast food anymore, I went to the gym, I finally got laser hair removal, I started eating healthier and lost 3 kg, I returned to watching self improvement videos on youtube and now I plan to draw and sell my drawings to make more money. I worked hard to pass all my exams successfully so that I can get my scholarship back.

From the outside it may seem that I forgot about the void or even lost hope but I didn't and I never will. I believe and know that one day I will become a success story myself. I even have a new upcoming post about my mini success (?) not sure if I can call it success yet 🤭

But anyway if you read all of this thank you. If my situation resonates with you I hope it helps you to not make these mistakes like I did and to not put your life on hold. Enjoy the present as much as you can, don't purposely make your life even more miserable. I love you all🫂💕🫶

#void state #the void state #i am state #law of assumption #loassumption #voidstate

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Tell me if this is too much but could we pretty please get prompts 90,91and 92 together??

Lando and the reader are in a secret relationship and she thinks he just doesn’t love her the way she loves him and that he is embarrassed that she’s not a model or whatever.

They have an argument because some other guy asks her out on a date and Lando is like don’t go and she’s upset and says why not? She never gets to go on dates because Lando never takes her 💔

Truth is he loves her a lot and is scared that the media and outsiders will hurt her and hurt their relationship. 😭

send me thoughts/blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for lando weekend

Lando was on top of the world, that much was clear. He and Carlos had finally managed their 1-2 they had dreamed about when they both drive for McLaren. Even though Carlos wore red on the top step of that podium, they had still done it.

He was grinning from the moment he got out of the car, rushing over to hug Carlos before he even took his helmet off. You could see it in his eyes though, the way they squinted when he smiled. He grinned as he pulled the helmet off his head along with his balaclava, his sweat-damp curls sticking out every which way.

He gave Oscar a hug, and cheered with the rest of his team. It was truly a moment Lando had been dreaming about for a while, and yet you had to watch it all unfold on a television in Lando’s Monaco apartment.

It was always hard when Lando traveled for work. Having to hide your relationship when he was around was hard enough, but seeing him travel to far off countries while he kept you cooped up in his apartment felt like a dagger in your chest.

You longed to be there, to share in these moments with Lando, but he was insistent that you stay behind, that you keep your relationship behind closed doors, away from the media, away from his friends, away from everyone.

You wanted nothing more than to live in that moment with Lando, to share in his happiness with him in person, in front of everyone. But he wanted nothing more than to keep your relationship locked away. You deserved someone who could love you publicly, someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to hold you in public, to share your affections with the world. You deserved better.

It takes Lando another few days to travel back home after Singapore, and he’s only got a few days before he has to travel out to Japan. He’s happy to spend what little time he has free before his next race at home in Monaco though, knowing you’ll be there to greet him with open arms and soft kisses.

He’s surprised to find his apartment empty when he returns though. He drops his bag at the door and walks further in, calling out your name. His room looks oddly bare, the bed perfectly made, a note resting on his pillow.

Lando,

I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t hide in the shadows because you’re ashamed of me, or ashamed of your love for me. Whichever it is, it’s taken a toll on me, and I imagine on you as well. I think I might be in some kind of love with you, but I can’t set myself up for heartbreak.

You did amazing in Singapore, and I know you’ll be just as great, if not better, in Japan. I wish I could’ve been there to experience that with you.

~Y/n

Lando’s eyes scanned over the page again and again and again, until the words were burned into his brain. Surely this was just a small blip in your relationship. Maybe he was being neglectful to you, but he never meant for this to come of it.

He forces himself to shower and change into a fresh pair of clothes. He lies in his bed alone, remembering just how cold it is without you sleeping next to him.

When he wakes up he finds himself holding your pillow to his chest. The scent of your shampoo still lingers on the pillowcase, pulling him into a false sense of security. He notices that he’s managed to sleep on your side of the bed, his body subconsciously searching for yours in his sleep.

He tries to call you, to text you, but you don’t answer him. He figures you need time, another day or two. But he’s only got one more day before he’s back on a plane to Japan.

He gathers up the courage to go to your apartment. He was always welcome, you told him, you even gave him a key, but now he feels like he’s a stranger. He knocks on the door, and his breath catches in his throat when you open it.

You’ve got a dress on, the white one with the yellow flowers on it. It’s the dress you wore on your first date. Well, the first time you shared a meal with Lando in his apartment.

You look confused to see him. “What are you doing here Lando?”

He searches for the right words, for any words really, but comes up with nothing other than “You look nice.”

You roll your eyes and walk back into your apartment. Lando notices you don’t close the door behind you, is it an invitation to come inside? He’s taking it as one.

He closes the door behind him as he walks in. He glances around, your apartment pretty much looks the same, save for a few photo frames he’s noticed now sit face down on their respective shelves.

“Lando, I really need to get ready to leave, so again, what are you doing here?” You ask as you look for a pair of shoes to wear.

“You wore the white strappy ones… on our first date.” He avoids your question.

You’re surprised he remembers such a small detail. You shake your head. “We never went on any dates. We sat in your apartment with takeout.”

“They felt like dates…” He mumbles to himself.

“No Lando. This,” you gesture to yourself “this is what going on a date is like. Getting ready to actually be seen in public with someone. To spend time together outside the walls of their home.”

“You’ve got a date?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

He’s at a loss for words. It’s been a day since you left him the note, how do you already have a date?

“My friend has been dying to set me up. So I told her she could.”

Lando feels something in his stomach turn. “Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” It has to be clear to you how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

“Say it.”

He takes a moment too long to speak before you’re pulling your shoes on.

“You shouldn’t go on that date because you belong with me. We belong together. It’s me and you, not you and a stranger.”

“I can’t be with you if you’re just going to constantly hide me. I can’t live in the shadows anymore. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.” Your last sentence is quiet as you turn away from him.

“Not enough? You’re everything.” He reaches out for your arm and softly pulls you back to him. “You’re what I look forward to the most every week. You’re the reason I want to win races.” His hands falls further down your arm so that he’s holding your hand. “Y/n, I didn’t want to go public because I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. I was scared that it would be too much, having cameras shoved in your face, being followed around everywhere you go… I didn’t want you to resent me for the life it would give you…”

His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. His hand squeezes yours as he tries to keep hold of the one good constant in his life.

“Please, please don’t go on that date.” His voice cracks.

You’re quick to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head in your neck. His arms wrap around your waist tightly, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets you go.

You agree to give your relationship another try with Lando, on the condition that he doesn’t hide the relationship. He takes you with him to Japan, keeping his hand interlocked with yours as you walk through the paddock. He’s proud when he introduces you to the McLaren team, calling you his girlfriend with a grin on his face.

When he and Oscar both score second and third he’s ecstatic. Both gaining large points for the team is cause for major celebration in the garage. You stand with the team when he parks his car. This time his eyes search for you in the crowd.

As soon as he finds you he throws his arms around you. His race suit is warm, sweat marks are visible in some spots. His face is lined with marks from his balaclava and helmet. He looks beautiful.

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” You ask him as he hugs you.

He practically dives down to kiss you when he pulls away from your hug. You can hear the crowd cheering and cameras flashing, but it’s all just fuzzy in the background of Lando giving you the perfect kiss.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando weekend #formula one x reader #ln4

[vesora]

Hi Sora! Thank you so much for your advice and help! I’m sorry for the long post ahead, please feel free to ignore me if you find the post too chunky.

I checked out RealityWarpingg and saw a post that goes like this “And if right now, I could 100% drop my belief in the possibility of failure, success would be the only thing that I would experience for the rest of my life” and I kinda see what you mean by “If self is perfect and you are self then why wouldn’t everything be perfect”. I’m not sure if I’m understanding it correctly, please correct me if you see a problem.

It’s the self that gives the reality to the experience. I’m so afraid of letting the problem go because I think once I let it go, the body and mind will suffer from hell knows what problems. Back in loass, I always have this and that method to do to “fulfill” myself so that I think I’m working towards something, so the world won’t burn because of me doing nothing. All these thoughts were because I identify myself as the ego, the ego thinks she has to do xyz or the world will doom. But if I stop identifying myself as the ego, and start to know who the true self is, I just drop the problem, and it will disappear, like literally disappear, in the example I stated before it’s “dropping out of school doesn’t exist, everything is perfect because the self is perfect”.

This is my understanding till now, please correct me if I made a mistake!

Writing this down arises another two question:

1. so how would the problem be resolved? By the belief or the love the self has? Because Self loves all of her creations?

2. I remembered reading a post of Ada several days ago, I don’t remember the exact words, and based on my understanding I remembered the overall meaning as something like “you have to accept the worst situation that might happen to the you, have the courage to face what the ego fears”. I’m sorry if I misunderstood what her meant, please ignore it if you find this sentence ridiculous. Did she mean “only when we are open to accept the worst situation do we let go the ego”? Because if we don’t see ourselves as the ego, we won’t be bothered by the problem it’s facing, then the problem flies away because we don’t give it reality? Or did she mean “let the ego deal with the problem, it’s not my problem, let the ego suffer because it’s all just a dream”. I think this is not what she meant because this is duality, but I’m not sure of my understanding.

Thank you Sora, for your help and time! Apologies for the long post, I’m really bad at concluding my thoughts lol.

hello again love!

I’m so afraid of letting the problem go because I think once I let it go, the body and mind will suffer from hell knows what problems. Back in loass, I always have this and that method to do to “fulfill” myself so that I think I’m working towards something, so the world won’t burn because of me doing nothing.

Oh boy I get this! It is so incredibly scary to just surrender since we have been in a process of doing and controlling 'external' circumstances (which there has never been a process but we identify with there having been one). ND is radical whereas LOA is more to get something so if you want to just get something right now, I would suggest LOA just so you don't spiral. Any 'method' 'works'' as long as you know that you are not a human and that which you 'think' you see is an illusion and effectively, unreal and can be molded into a different thing at any given moment the Self decides. There are no facts at all, there is nothing that is static and stable, it depends on your will to accept yourSelf as the Absolute Authority you ARE. The character has no power because the character is an illusion. You can try changing from the outside world but the only reason it will work is if you know that circumstances start and end with You.

By Ada:

But if I stop identifying myself as the ego, and start to know who the true self is, I just drop the problem, and it will disappear, like literally disappear, in the example I stated before it’s “dropping out of school doesn’t exist, everything is perfect because the self is perfect”.

Yes, because the one who you think you are is in school just because you believe they are in school, therefore if you wanted a different experience you can easily get it because there is no one here but you. No other power but you. The world is only solid because you believe it is.

1. so how would the problem be resolved? By the belief or the love the self has? Because Self loves all of her creations?

The problem will be resolved because Self doesn't want to experience it anymore. Imagine this:

You are painting a beautiful scenery. You have alllll the colours you could have but for this painting you only want green. However, you have red in your hand. The green is RIGHT THERE for you to grab but you won't let go of the red. The paint doesn't have a mind of its own, the air isn't dictating which colour is in your hand, it is all YOU. You are struggling against your own Self, trying to grab green whilst your hands are filled with paintbrushes with red. Drop the red and grab the green paint. THERE IS NOTHING BUT SELF! There is no effort, just a conscious decision to stop identifying yourself as the paint but instead, as the painter. Then you go one step forward and identify yourself with every-thing because the reason that there even is a thing is because of You. In reality, Self is a total negation.

Did she mean “only when we are open to accept the worst situation do we let go the ego”? Because if we don’t see ourselves as the ego, we won’t be bothered by the problem it’s facing, then the problem flies away because we don’t give it reality?

Yes, because you are not afraid of it anymore. It is just a passing thought with no basis.

Read this - the following are not my words, the creators have been credited in the beginning of each section:

Neville:

I AM the believer limited by my beliefs, the knower defined by the known. The world is my conditioned consciousness objectified. That which I feel and believe to be true of myself is now projected in space as my world. The world – my mirrored self – ever bears witness of the state of consciousness in which I live. There is no chance or accident responsible for the things that happen to me or the environment in which I find myself.

The most difficult thing for man to really grasp is this: That the “I AM-ness” in himself is God. It is his true being or Father state, the only state he can be sure of. The Son, his conception of himself, is an illusion. He always knows that he IS, but that which he is, is an illusion created by himself (the Father) in an attempt at self-definition.

Now that you have discovered your I AM, your consciousness to be God, do not claim anything to be true of yourself that you would not claim to be true of God, for in defining yourself, you are defining God.

The visible world of itself can do nothing; it only bears record of his creator, the subjective state.

Lester Levenson:

God is All, God is Perfect, and if God is All and God is Perfect, everything must be perfect, and that leaves no place for imperfection or troubles - Lester

reality warpingg:

infinite.ko/infiniteko:

"Deciding to wake up as a different ego" How do you expect to wake up as something that fundamentally does not exist? Would it make sense to you if the ocean wished to wake up as a wave? Does a wave truly exist on its own or is it an illusory form the ocean takes on? What are both made of?💧

#nd #nonduality #law of assumption #nondualism #asks

[berryless]

As much as Astarion likes to pretend he's better than everyone, the truth is—when the performance ends, and the curtains draw to a close, he stays on the stage alone and forgotten, unworthy of attention when he isn't a spectacle. That's why his little theater is open for everyone around the clock. Every act, every movement, every phrase, although deftly improvised, is part of the show.

Everything to prevent the crowd from discovering the truth.

Everything to fool himself into forgetting said truth himself.

That outside of the spotlight, away from the little stage of his, when he looks in someone's eyes, Astarion doesn't see himself reflected in them. They look at him, but also past him, through him, like he's nothing but an empty space, a person-shaped hole in the fabric of the world that someone forgot to mend.

And because this happens oh so every often this thought is no longer a fear of his, not something he can doubt, but a simple fact.

They don't see him. They don't know him.

They don't care to.

Admittedly, this makes it easier to stomach luring them back to Cazador. Because of course a performance of century would require a fee. Nothing in this world is free. Certainly not his services.

And he is but a humble baitman, a shining lantern attracting moths to leap into the flames of eternal damnation.

A tool.

And as a tool he does what he's told to do unless he wants to end up discarded and broken like others disobedient useless tools were.

But then Tav sees him. And it's frightening.

Because suddenly after the show is over, after the curtains are drawn, after everything falls back to silence, and he returns to being in nothingness, he isn't truly alone on this stage anymore.

She's here, sitting quietly, looking at him in a contemplation, thinking who knows what—Astarion certainly doesn't. And her presence alone is forcing him to put back his stage costume and perform off clock, asking in jest if she happened to lost herself in his eyes, because it certainly wouldn't be the first for this to happen, he does have pretty eyes (or so he's been told enough to regurgitate the sentiment appropriately).

Tav laughs, "As a matter of fact, you do. But…" Her voice trails off, and that uncomfortable stare returns. She looks at him, lost in thoughts as she gathers her words, and a wave of goosebumps runs up Astarions arms when it comes to him she actually sees him.

Wants to see him.

Through him—in a different, completely foreign way, not skipping past his existence, but uncovering it and studying its insides. His insides.

The notion makes him nauseous.

His fingers start to tremble, and Astarion hides them in his fists.

He never knew that being perceived might be so frightening.

He's far more comfortable with everything being the usual way, for people withdrawing when the performance ends, for them seeing past him, but not him, because if they judge his mask, his persona, his act—that's a critique of his presentation. His work, if you will. His craft.

Not of Astarion himself.

And as it shockingly turns out, he might not like receiving judgment on something that he, an actor, an author, a man behind the stage is.

"You have far more than just those beautiful eyes of yours, aren't you?"

He laughs on cue, desperate to turn this exchange into one he has with his audience, "My, what gave me away? My luscious locks, perhaps? Or would that be my lustful lips? I received rave reviews on my use of them. Would you like to try for yourself?"

Tav smiles. She looks at him openly, without blushing, without twitching, neither sultry nor loathing, accepting his words like an act that they are.

Astarion can barely keep his flirtatious mask without it cracking.

"As tempting as this offer is, afraid I've to restrain myself," she sighs, the tone of her voice aligning to his. She's also performing her part, and he knows that with certainty. "My compact size does not allow me thread deep waters without caution."

And your waters, Astarion, run very deep indeed.

She doesn't say this out loud, but he can infer the meaning from other places.

"Oh, come on, I'm hardly deeper than a puddle," he quips back. "You'll be perfectly fine sloshing through. As long as you don't mind being messy."

"Will I?"

He's still unable to see his reflection, but the feeling of being seen doesn't go away. She looks at him, through him, but not past him, right into his skull, right into his soul, and a part of him wants to curl himself in a ball to hide from this deep penetrating stare of hers.

Thankfully, Tav turns away before he's forced to do that. Or gouge out her wise all-knowing eyes, completely ill-fit for someone oh-so-young.

"Goodnight, Astarion."

He doesn't ask for a goodnight sip this time, just says something fitting without thinking much about it.

The feeling of her gaze lingers, it crawls under his skin, making all his hairs stand on end.

He doesn't like it.

And yet the shudder runs through him from just a fleeting picture of those eyes prying him open and reading through him with same acute attention that's reserved exclusively for her books. A frightened one, yes. But simultaneously full of excitement.

He does not like it.

Not one bit.

Not at all.

#fanfiction #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #drabble #character study

[izzyliker]

to me the fact that ed & izzy have yet to interact post ep2 is paradoxically a testament to their closeness and intimacy because like how the fuck do you come back from that? the things they said to each other? the total severance of trust there? ed is trying to make amends with the crew, minus izzy. izzy is getting close with the crew, but doesn’t get near ed. it’s a painful, agonizing divorce with your kids caught in the middle. what are you going to say about it? when it’s so all encompassing that you can’t even put it into words? why would you? it’s everywhere and just carrying it with you is exhausting enough. what’s the point? there’s a passive voice throughout it. the absence of creates a vacuum. you double down on what’s left. what even are you. can’t even do your job right. take it out on the closest proxy you can find. he’s there but he’s inside of you. now you’re the active agent. edward ceases to exist completely outside of desperate outbursts. move on or die. ed doesn’t even acknowledge izzy’s existence though he must know he’s still there. what is he going to say? sorry izzy. sorry i shot you. sorry i ordered you killed. sorry i mutilated you and sorry i’m the reason you lost your leg. you have to say more after it. do you have the mental bandwidth to say those things? the necessary things? i loved you. i love you. you’re izzy to me. just izzy. you’re my friend. it was a joint effort in some ways, in many ways, im sorry it got so bad. i was so cruel to you because i loved you the most. i trusted you the most. you were there the most. you wouldn’t run away, indestructible little fucker. we kept hurting each other so much it became second nature for both of us. i went too far. i didn’t think you’d stay long enough for it to happen. i didn’t know how to stop myself. i didn’t want to stop myself. i wanted to die. everyone else is a united front with a shared picture of ed, except for stede, izzy, and lucius. lucius is angry. he avoids ed out of anger, out of fear, out of fury. but izzy just - with ed, he doesn’t. why bring him up. this complete severance leaves behind a gaping hole in the narrative. how do we fill up an absence so profound? you can’t un-sever a leg. izzy can’t un-tell ed to kill himself. ed can’t un-tell izzy to kill himself. what the fuck are you supposed to do with the fucking hole? you can’t make it go away without acknowledging it, and you have to want to do it. in a way the hole is comfortable - a clean edge, a vast darkness. gaping maw. you can’t go around it. you can’t go in. it’s free fall from there. but at least there’s nothing covering it. you know it’s there. at some point you get so used to it it disappears completely. move on or die. a shark took my leg. i took a man’s leg. the hole is there. you see it in the horizon and you turn around and then you keep walking.

#best wishes gargoyle king #ofmd s2 spoilers #edizzy

[mockerycrow]

Undercover II (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

Summary: After being waterboarded, your body is too exhausted and injured to handle any more. Soap and you are formally introduced outside of an interrogation setting.

[WARNINGS: medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, angst.]

“Any dog, you put him in the corner, no matter if they’re vicious or not, they’re going to bite back.” -Mike James.

WAKING UP AFTER such harsh injuries is weird. It’s like the world keeps trying to materialize, distant voices that aren’t too definite, textures under my fingers aren’t quite recognizable yet, not being able to tell pain or pleasure from one another.. I wake up first with sensations across my body—pain, numbness, open wounds, closed wounds—cold, hot, burning, piercing. It makes me wish maybe I did die by Makarov’s hand. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to bare the burden of everything I know, everything I did to prove I was.. loyal, to that sick, sonofabitch.

I feel incredibly heavy, sandbags instead of muscles, my throat feels like I swallowed glass—that’s almost worse than the pain I feel in the rest of my body. The next thing I hear is a faint monitor, maybe two different ones? I can’t tell. My mouth is dry so when I swallow, nothing comes down my throat, but the retraction of my muscles in my neck ache nonetheless. I cough quietly and I gain just enough energy to open my eyelids. I find myself in a.. infirmary type room. I go to move my hand over my gut but metal sliding against metal hits my ears. My unfocused gaze hovers over to my hand and I see one of my hands is handcuffed to the railing of the gurney. My heart drops into my gut as I weakly pull on the handcuffs, a quiet sigh leaving my lips.

Fuck.

My free hand rests gently on top of my gut—they had to have cut me open or some shit, because this hurts like fucking hell on Earth. I feel like my goddamn intestines are about to spill out. Or maybe it’s the aftermath of Makarov’s torture hitting me.

I look down at myself and I’m changed into a fresh hospital gown, a surprisingly high quality blanket draped across my body. My free arm has an IV in my arm and in my vein in my hand, connected to a dispenser not too far away. I look up at the hooks decorated with liquid medicine—definitely a pain killer, I don’t know about the other bags, though. Can’t read from here. My hand goes my face and I feel two tubes; an oxygen tube gently hooked into my nose and a.. I think a feeding tube? My fingers go down to my jaw and I find a bandage wrapped around my neck and jaw, my eyebrows furrowing together. Jesus. Maybe he did break my jaw. Why can’t I feel it, then? I lay my head back down onto the paper pillowcase, closing my eyes for a few seconds. So, now I have to make a plan. Did they patch me because I was about to die? They know I have a lot of valuable information, so they need me alive just enough for that stuff. Makarov’s remaining warehouses, his extensive plans, everything. Do I keep my mouth shut? Yes. I have to remain loyal to my true team, not the one who’s planning ripping populations apart, desecrating entire cities—

The nearby door opens and my eyes shoot open as my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. A doctor comes in with a nurse and they pause at the sight of me being awake. I stare back at them for a moment before the doctor smiles softly at me. “You’re finally awake. That’s good, we nearly lost ya.” His accent is a thick southern-american (U.S.) one. I don’t answer—I wish I could thank them, but I have to be Zhenya. The doctor turns to the nurse and murmurs something just out of my hearing range, the nurse nodding in return and leaving the room, leaving me alone with the doctor. He begins to approach me and my heart monitor immediately begins to spike, as if I’m in danger—because I am—I have no idea who this guy is or if he plans on torturing me, too! The doctor stops in his tracks, his voice coming out as comforting and soft, “Woah there, pal. I’m not here to harm ya, just here to check your vitals. Ask you a few questions, too.”

My hands clench into weak fists as I keep my eyes on him—wait, American??—I don’t have much time to think about that as the doctor comes over to my IV machine, glancing at the numbers before looking at me with a soft, sympathetic look. “My name is Doctor Erikson. Are you in any pain?” I hesitate to answer but I give him a subtle nod, my hand resting back over my stomach. Doctor Erikson turns to the IV machine and ups the drip dosage, glancing at me. “Alright, now I have some basic questions for you, okay, hon? You were out longer than expected, so it’s just prodecure.” I answer with another nod, keeping my eyes training on Dr. Erikson. He has dark skin with tightly curled hair, put up into a neat bun. He has square glasses resting on his big, arched nose. Dr. Erikson is clean shaven, a scar resting on his cheek—looks quite old, probably from a shaving accident when he was younger. He has big, welcoming and soft brown eyes that you don’t feel like they stare into your soul. In this line of work, we need more people like him. His eyes may be soft, but you can tell he’s seen some things. I rapidly blink in order to focus; I naturally profile people when I feel.. on edge.

Dr. Erikson presses the end of his pen and the ballpoint end pops out with a click! He looks at me, a soft subtle smile remaining on his face. “What is the year?”

“2023.”

He nods and quickly checks something off—probably a box. “Who is the President of the United States?”

“Joe Biden.”

“What’s your name?”

I stare at him for a second and my heart stops for a moment before I answer with, “Zhenya. Zhenya Antonenko.”

Dr. Erikson and I stare at each other for a moment before he checks off two more boxes. He sets aside the clipboard on a counter nearby in the room. He keeps the pen and walks over, murmuring, “Keep your head still, follow the pen with your eyes only.”

Dr. Erikson begins to move the pen left and right, tracking my eye movement as I keep my eyes trained on the pen. After he doesn’t find any eye coordination discrepancies, he sets the pen down and grabs an otoscope, putting a singular use cone on the end, clicking the ‘on’ button, the end of the cone emitting light. He comes to my left side and gently puts the cone inside of my ear, checking for a few seconds. “You’ll have some visitors in a few moments, they will inform you of your medical injuries and what procedures we took.” He murmurs softer than he was before, considering how close he is my ears. My ear tingles as he removes the otoscope, coming around to the other side of the bed to check my other ear. I don’t respond. Dr. Erikson hums as he throws away the single use cone and murmurs ‘stare straight ahead’, using the little light from the otoscope to test my pupil dilation.

Fuck. I don’t want to see them again. Not now. My hand grabs the blanket, and then there’s a firm and quick knock on the door before the door swings open.

In comes fucking Laswell, Hudson, Mutton-Chops, and Mohawk.

What in God’s name is fucking going on??

Dr. Erikson puts the otoscope away and walks over to them, glancing back at me before talking. “They’re in a delicate state, physically and mentally,” He mutters, probably thinking I can’t hear. He isn’t good at being quiet with military dudes. His own people though, sure. “Be sure to play nice.” Hudson immediately approaches my bedside and I can’t help the hot and stinging tears that threaten to spill from my tear ducts—his soothing voice instantaneously makes my worries die down for a good 10 minutes. “You’re okay now, [Name]. The mission is over. You’re in good hands.”

I choke on a sob; of relief? Of devastation? Of need? Of grief? I don’t know.

I lift my handcuffed hand ever so slightly, my voice wobbly, “Why?”

“It’s a safety precaution,” Laswell says gently, approaching the bedside that Hudson is on. Mutton-Chops and Mohawk stay by the door, quietly eyeing me. I catch Mohawk’s eyes and I can’t read his emotion which makes me feel on edge; I turn back to my familiar faces. “S.. Safety precaution?” I question, glancing between them. They give each other a look—a look of pity—before Hudson speaks up. “You’ve.. been through a lot, [Name]. More than I can imagine. Until we have you go through a psychological evaluation, we’re keeping the cuffs on you.”

Oh. So like a caged animal.

My shoulders sink and I glance at the handcuffs, joy mixing with dread. “I know it’s hard, but we’re having Soap stay with you until we can have that psychologist come for you.” Laswell murmurs, gently grabbing my hand and squeezing it? avoiding the IV and it’s tape. I nod as I glance over at the men. “What kind of name is Soap?” I mutter, earning a snort from Mutton-Chops. Hudson looks at me worriedly, his wrinkles-in-the-corner-of-his-eyes kind of worried. I look back up at Hudson and look between him and Laswell a few times, biting the inside of my cheek. “Everything?” I ask. They don’t even need more than that to know what I’m talking about. “Everything.” He confirms with a nod. I take a deep breath—which I immediately regret because now it feels like my guts are trying to spill out again owowowowow—and I must wince because Laswell grabs a pillow from a nearby table and puts it on my abdomen. “Here, hold the pillow with soft pressure. It helps that weird feeling with your stitches. Learned it from the field.” She comments, her eyes scanning me like a worried mother. I nod as a thank you and use my free arm, applying pressure across my abdomen—gentle, mind you. Oddly enough, it brings me some level of relief. “We’ve provided Soap with a recorder so we can record your statement and stories, so you don’t have to repeat everything over and over.”

I nod silently—my throat feels like shit and I have no energy to speak, so might as well save what I do have for the statements..

Hudson clears his throat and glances at Laswell, then back at me, “Laswell and I have to go for a bit, since the operation has been revealed, we have a lot of shit to do.” He says with an unsatisfied tone; like he wants to stay by my side. My heart warms a bit from that— Hudson has always taken care of his team, made me feel like I belong. I crave for him to stay near me but I bite my lip, —and then quickly releasing it from the hold my teeth had on it because I one-hundred-percent forgot that my lip was injured—and shake my head. “Go,” I start. “It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere, right?” I attempt to make a joke, and Hudson tries to offer a stale chuckle—one he only does if someone got seriously injured.. It must be bad—and he squeezes my hand gently.

They murmur me their goodbyes, taking their leave, pushing the door open and walking out. Mutton-Chops follows them close behind.

That leaves me alone with Mohawk—“So you must be Soap, then.” I state as the man starts to approach my beside, his boots thumping against the infirmary floor. He offers a boyish grin that fits him quite well and he nods, grabbing a chair and easily pulling it kind of near the bed, but not too close. The distance suggests distrust, caution. Which is understandable because he did take place in my brief torture part two..

Like a wild animal, again.

“The one and only,” He chimes, his fingers fiddling with the recorder. Soap leans back in the chair, his eyes studying me for a second. “Doc said someone should give ya th’rundown of what happened, eh?”

I nod, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the pillowcase of the pillow across my stomach. Soap hums and tilts his head, his expression turning ever so slightly sad. “You had internal bleedin’ n’ broken ribs; one of which nearly pierced ye lung. Your jaw is fractured on yer right side, they had t’put a screw in. Your stabs wounds were pretty ‘typical’ by the doc’s standards, but they did have to open you up and repair th’abdominal wall. He said you’re lucky you didn’t lose any organs.”

Lucky.

Lucky.

Lucky.

That fucking word. “I’m lucky?” I bark out with disbelief. I know I am, but that phrase makes me so angry.

I look back at Soap whose lips are pursed together; he’s sitting up from my slight outburst which makes me look back down at my lap. Soap doesn’t say anything for a moment, the faint beeps of the monitors filling that empty space. When he does speak, he switches on the recorder. “This is Sergeant John MacTavish, Callsign Soap interviewing…” He trails off, holding the recorder out between himself so it can pick up his voice, as well as mine. I take a deep breath and let it go. “[Name] [Last Name].” Soap offers a mood lifting grin as he repeats his name back to me and murmuring the date. His lip curls just enough to show some of his gums by his right canine tooth, ever so slightly. I can’t help but wonder for a moment why he suddenly is so friendly, but I already know the answer to that. When you’re in this line of work, there are friends and there are foes. There are no frenemies in this game. You are either on their side or against it. Something I can relate to.

“What division are in, and your mission?” He has a professional tone for the sake of the recording. I don’t even know this guy it seems so unlike him that it makes me wanna roll my eyes into the back of my head until they get stuck there. “I’m a sergeant of Task Force Eclipse. My Captain is Tyler Hudson, and my teammate, besides my captain is Trinity Wilson, code-name Lake. My other teammate Sasha Miranov, code-name Coal, is KIA. Richard Jensen, code-name Tendril, had committed treason and had joined the very cause I’ve been fighting against. He’s also KIA.” I pause as my heart aches. “My mission began a few years ago, I was a special ops soldier that worked with the CIA, being placed wherever I was needed. Station Chief Kate Laswell called me into a special conference room where I was met with my future colleagues…”

I pause in the doorway as my eyes scan several different unfamiliar faces, sweeping the room on instinct. I spot Laswell, General Shepherd, and an old friend, Tyler Hudson standing in front of the round table where the three strangers are sitting. “Come in,” Laswell beckons, holding a thick, vanilla folder between her fingertips. The confusion is shared between amongst me and three strangers—I shut the door behind me. Laswell leans over the table and presses a button and the glass walls of the conference room become foggy and soundproof. “Sir.” I greet General Shepherd with a kind and professional tone, taking the seat closest to Laswell. He nods towards me, his hands folded neatly in front of him. His brow is pushed forward like something is troubling him; isn’t surprising, considering his position. Laswell holds up the folder as she begins to speak. “You must be wondering why I have called you all here today. You’re here because between Captain Hudson, General Shepherd and I, you four are the best for this job. You have not been given any details up until now because this quite possibly might be the most confidential mission you will ever work on in your time of service.”

Laswell places the folder down and motions to the person furthest from me. “Everyone, this is Richard Jensen. He will be joining us from MI6, along with—the girl who is next to him—Trinity Wilson. Then there is Sasha Miranov and [Name] [Last Name] from our very own CIA.” We look between each other wearily because Laswell still hasn’t said the nature of this mission, and General Shepherd hasn’t said a word at all this entire time. We give each other silent head nods because there will be time to get acquainted later. I put my hand on the table and fingers tap nervously against the glass top. Laswell steps out of the way of the wall with both Captain Hudson and General Shepherd. Hudson hands her a small remote which she murmurs a thank you, turning to said wall. It prompts all of us to look in the same direction and she presses a button and a projector projects a light box with a symbol of a moon and sun in the middle, hints of CIA and MI6 logos as well. She looks back at us, letting out another sigh laced with stress. “Today, you are no longer with your old units. You are now in Task Force Eclipse, lead by Captain Tyler Hudson; curtesy of CIA.” My eyebrows raise for a second because of the anticipation in my bones, in my veins. Working with Hudson?

She presses another button and pops up Richard Jensen’s face and basic information; his name, his age, blood type, occupation, whatever. “Also starting today, you are no longer yourselves,” Laswell presses another button and Jensen’s information fades into Russian, quickly translating back to English. My lips part in surprise as Laswell opens the vanilla folder, going around the table, passing out different documents to everyone. “Starting today, you are living as new people, from either Russia or Ukraine. You lived and grew up in these areas and share the same ideals as our enemy—who you will be working closely with.” No fucking way. There’s absolutely no fucking way—

“We have entrusted you five to work this undercover op, to weasel your way into Makarov’s organization and take information to relay it back to us. Is that clear?” Shepherd’s tone is rough, rude, and authoritative as always. He’s leaning his hand on the table, looking between all of us. I keep glancing between my documents, briefly glancing over the information before looking back up at him. “Sir, no offense, our mission is to.. be terrorists?” Trinity speaks up, her accent cutting through the air like a knife. Her tone shows she’s absolutely baffled, traced with incredulousness. “Yes. You will have to be prepared to commit acts you never would otherwise.” He responds, holding back his snappy response from her own. I look down at my paper and see my new name, my new age—very close to my actual one—my new backstory, fuck, even passports and other official documents are displayed with my new name. “You will have to work close with the group, even find your way under Makarov’s wing. We will set up times and dates for you to relay important information back to your Captain, and to me.” Laswell’s voice is a bit quieter in volume as the heavy mood sets in the room. I tense as I borderline feel everything just.. sink. “You all have worked undercover ops before, and you all have done incredibly well. This is why we trust you with this task.”

It was no secret the CIA and MI6 trusted some of the wrong people, and some of the right people.

taglist: @glitterypirateduck @darling006 @elowynnlane @hardnutpost [If you are not tagged and you’re here, it did not let me tag you.]

#undercover⛈️🗯️ #call of duty #call of duty mwii #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #cod #soap x reader #john mctavish #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x you #angst #flashbacks #CIA #MI6 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty soap #modern warfare soap #modern warfare two #modern warfare fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare

[crazylittlejester]

I’m gonna go on a crazy ass rant because I’m upset and also very tired

A huge reason as to why I characterize Warriors the way that I do, regarding his fear of being poisoned and his food anxiety, is a way to explain myself and my own anxieties caused by my allergies, because when I say to someone I don’t think I can eat the food at the party/function/their house EVEN IF it was specifically made to be free of my allergens, they just don’t understand why I can’t eat it. They just don’t understand that just because it’s ‘safe’ doesn’t mean I feel safe enough to eat it, because there’s always that lingering ‘What if’ in my mind that food made outside of my vision is contaminated somehow.

It is so HARD to explain to people the genuine fear that you are going to die because a food created an odd texture in your mouth and you gave yourself a panic attack over nothing. It breaks my heart every time I go to my friends house and her mom offers to make me food because I’ve been at her house for thirteen hours and haven’t eaten a meal with them, because even though she cleans everything and offers to let me watch her make it, there’s still this loud screaming voice in my mind saying that that food is not safe to eat. And it just NEVER goes away. I feel awful because her mom is so sweet and willing to help me, and I just can’t ever accept because I manage to convince myself it’s contaminated every time

I have been dealing with this for my entire life and never not once have I been able to get someone to understand what this feels like or seen it shown in a media form anywhere. I’ve had family and therapists both just tell me to get over myself, because I’m being ‘ridiculous’ and the craziest thing to me EVER is that for the first time in nineteen years, I have had an outlet to throw this frustration into. Warriors and the food issues I have given him are so important to me because for the first time in my life I can explain this fear through a character and even if people may not relate or really, truly get what it’s like, they understand. They understand and they recognize it as a valid fear, and it’s because of a fanfiction about a traumatized war hero. (which is INSANE to me that this is what it took for people to understand, but you know what, I’ll take it)

This rant was inspired because I opened a sealed container of ice cream and the allergen labels were incorrect and now I can’t eat it and I’ve wasted money and I’m so upset and it’s been a really long week, but also because I never saw anyone talking about this when I was a kid, and if I’d had someone there to represent me like this, or just be there for me to connect with, I would’ve felt a lot better. Understanding allergies and food restrictions is so important for so many reasons, the most important being that if you know how to help someone, you can save their LIFE. And for other people who feel the same way I do, it’s so GOOD to know you’re not alone and that there’s someone out there who gets what you’re dealing with

If I can make people understand what it’s like to live life this way, then that is so important to me. If I can explain to people what to do in an emergency situation because their friend is having a allergic reaction, I will, because not enough people understand how allergies work, and I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about kids with allergies who were peer pressured into eating when they didn’t feel comfortable and then suffering the consequences, and I am TIRED of seeing companies mislabel their fucking food.

Also do NOT be afraid to ask any friends or classmates or coworkers with allergies how to use an epi pen because You Could Save Their Life. If anyone is curious, I’LL tell you, or look up a youtube video I’m sure there are some on there

Anyways, this is why I give Warriors the food issues I do in my fics, for anyone else out there with allergies who’s ever felt invalidated by people telling them their anxieties were stupid, and so people who have no idea what it’s like to fear your food will kill you can try to understand that this is the irritating reality for some of your peers. (not that everyone with allergies has this exact experience, I have a friend with allergies who just eats whatever and prays it wont kill them, but I know now that there are plenty of people out there with allergies who DO have this experience)

Sorry for kinda ranting, (I’m just a little guy 🥺), but this is something that is so hugely important to me, and sorry Warriors but you had too similar of a problem so now you get my exact issues 🫶

#linked universe #lu warriors #tw vent #kind of?? tagging it just in case #anyways i am FINE just really annoyed 🕺🕺🕺 #jes talks #jes rambles #jes rants

[lains-reality]

nondualism and "manifestation"

okay so there was an anon question abt manifesting. i'll answer with this post. i barely proof read this so tell me if theres an error. if you need more (you don't) then there are relevent links at the end.

anon: Ima here with a question :) Suppose I'm manifesting my desired clothes , so I just be aware/know that I already have them in my closet ? And Whenever I think that nope it's not true they aren't there …I JUST USE MY IMAGINATION, SEE A PICTURE OF THOSE CLOTHES AND AGAIN BECOME AWARE OF THE FACT THAT I HAVE THEM ? Basically when I found myself thinking about them I just shift my awareness to that I have them ! is this all I have to do ? And what if I feel euphoric 🤧 knowing that I already those clothes in my closet ? Is it oky ig it should be bc feeling has nothing to do with it !? RIGHT ?

I'll ask these questions first: do you want the desire or to be free? could you let go of trying to get happiness from this item and sit in the happiness you are?

you don't use your imagination. you ARE imagination. you're living in your imagination.

you don't have to identify with those thoughts telling you, you don't have the clothes

you've asked this question to another blogger, so you're spamming, searching for an answer? not gonna get you anywhere .. also have u even read my posts?

are you the person that sent this? nondualism IS NOT A METHOD

first of all, i want to you to remove every information, believing that it's real, your brain, spiraling, wavering, blockages, the universe giving you what you want, someone outside of you, the 3d, the 4d, behind the scenes, the 3d mirroring you, saturating your brain, etc ... [choroukgod]

there's no manifesting.

you are not the manifestor. you are not the doer. i mean it as the character, anon, doesn't do anything. Self does. Self can also be called awareness or consciousness. for Self, all exists. its like a comb, there's the handle and then all the teeth. Self is the handle, you anon, are one of the teeth. you are Self imagining being a human with desires.

i'll give you a snippet of a draft post i made:

"they wanted to be the doer. the character doesn't do. it's not You, it's just a habit. when you know you are Self, then everything is harmonious and effortless. the Self does, it is under all the imaginary character - if the character isn't real, then it doesn't do, the Self does."

since you are Self, this means you are beyond time and space, body and mind. they're not real. only the character/mind thinks its real, it'll chat forever about how you need to do this and that.

this is because the mind only knows what it knows. it cannot know anything more than what it knows right now. it's a collection of thoughts, feelings and memories that you've collected and turned into a habit. it's a habit to go back to the memories as a reference point. its a habit to identify with thoughts that come into your awareness. when you stop the habit and don't identify as the character, it goes away.

abt the body: well when you dream, you might still think. you feel the body and all, all the sensations. it feels real enough. then you wake up. you didn't take the physical body into the dream did you? you just felt the sensation of having one. doesn't this mean it's a bunch of sensations, just like a thought in the mind is?

also the mind can affect the body (e.g. nervous feeling -> sweaty palms). the thought or feeling rising into awareness, the mind takes note and ownership "i'm nervous, my hands are sweaty", affecting the body. if the unreal mind can affect something, then is that thing also not unreal?

(try to observe the thoughts or feelings next time without attaching a story to it or resisting it. see whether it goes away quicker. being able to accept the present moment is essential for this)

extra note - you as Self is also imagining the concepts of manifesting and shifting (and all the concepts related e.g. states, 3d, persisting etc).

thinking they the reason why you can get what you want IS FALSE. THOSE ARE YOUR OWN CREATIONS, ARE YOU GOING TO CREATE SOMETHING OUT OF YOUR OWN CREATIONS? [choroukgod]

What is there to be saved from except illusions? And what are all illusions except false ideas about myself? My holiness undoes them all by asserting the truth about me. - acim workbook

so, you know now the reality of who you are and not to identify with the imaginary, lets talk about the desire.

desires are born out of not knowing who you are. if you think you're the body-mind then several hundred concepts are needed to be taken into account to just live.

another snippet

"all these memories, feelings, thoughts and subsequent stories create desires and fears. the mind will try and protect itself and plan for stuff, but it can't. because it's so limited in knowledge & power."

the character wants the desire because of the story it has, the feeling. usually of happiness, love, joy. what you don't know is that that's your standard way of being. so you search everywhere.

the characters main motivation is to find the truth and happiness, underneath the searching is the belief 'i am not okay' or 'i am not enough', which leads to several needs & fears but importantly, need of control, especially of the future. it refuses to sit in the present moment.

desire is completely fine actually, its the attachments to it that make it hurtful. when you don't understand that desire is just another passing sensation, you, as the character, think you NEED it and will not stop until you get it, or you suffer.

you think that theres a world to control. you think that its outside of you. you think that there is a physical world. you're missing the most important info of all: all is Self. all is consciousness. all is awareness. whatever you wanna say. all is you, theres nothing to manipulate now. theres nothing to force now. its all unreal. you as Self, are imagining to be a human with desires that now has to change stuff that they think is real! how exhusting! you don't even need to change yourSelf, Self is perfect!

there's nothing to do.

Self is all. Self is whole. Self is perfect. Self is who you actually are.

there's no transition to Self. you already are that. it's letting go of all the concepts of limitations that is a transition. - i don't remember who said this, maybe lester levenson?

manifesting is not the point. the point is to be free! it's to recognise your true self! not just to feel better or okay .. to BE freedom, to BE peace, love etc. do you want to keep going into imagination to fufilll yourself all the time? you don't have to if you understand that you are fulfillment, you are whole already.

the "world" changing can't sway you because you are complete as you are, when you manifest with the intention to fulfil the desire so you 'physically' get it - you're only gonna feel full when you get the thing .. and then it goes. things cannot fulfil you. what would happen if the clothes get shredded by a dog? your happiness goes. why? why would you place your happiness on a thing that is FINITE?

being in the present moment is best. its literally the only way you live. you can't see into the past or future, there is only now.

The best place to grow is right where you are. The best time is now.

when you're worrying abt the future, you're thinking more. when you're worrying abt the past, more thoughts. in the present moment, you slow down and see what is in front of you now.

when you get caught up in the mind, you can stop yourself halfway (or even after it happens) and go "oh the mind was doing ...", then you start to pick up how much your mind wanders back or forwards. you start to pick up how limiting the thoughts are when you remind yourself that you are not the body or mind. with the understanding that the mind is imaginary -> no need to listen or identify with what's happening. it just is. feelings or emotions that come up into awareness cannot do anything. you are never disconnected from Self.

'oh i want to go [x] but i have to buy a plane ticket and get this and that...' -> if you are not the body-mind you don't have to worry about physically travelling anywhere, you are beyond time and space naturally. you don't have to prepare anything either, the mind wants to plan, but Self is harmonious and all, so whatever you 'need' will come to you. lester actually did this once.

"With full confidence that “everything is A-okay and taken care of,” I packed a bag and walked out of the house."

when you catch yourself in the moment: release and disidentify. you can just disidentify with it immediatly if you want to.

to release a belief or emotion (probs also desires) (sedona method):

welcome the feeling.  it doesn’t have to be strong. it is what it is. ask yourself: Could I let it go? Would I let it go? When? then, remembering that you are not the body-mind, answer. deep breath in and out, let relief come if you feel it. read the link for more.

when you ask yourself, “Could I let this feeling go?”,  remind yourself that you can let any emotion go, like dropping an object. when you ask yourself, “Would you let the feeling go?”, consider whether you would you rather hold on to pain, stress, and suffering, or, would you rather be free? when you ask yourself, “When?”, what you’re doing is creating an invitation to do it now

it can take some courage depending on the emotion, the character'll want to run away. but sit in the present moment and observe the feelings. ignoring and suppresing is not healthy. the focus is to keep releasing the feeling when it comes up. you can also coax the feelings up yourself.

to disidentify: well, just don't identify with it. just go "oh that's a thought". maybe remember your Self. maybe say 'on this path i constantly give up trouble' and move on. a simple knowing that that is not You, is enough.

surrender. i used to be scared of surrender bcs i thought it'd mean i have to let go of control and i'd get nothing! or just the same thing or worse! i was scared, i as the character was in full force. then some days past and i calm down (and lowkey give up), then i get some experience where it feels like i'm saying 'yes you ARE your true Self, its natural!!' to myself. something happens w/ 0 effort and i'm never suprised tbh (i used to be), it only grows my faith in mySelf. i promise you when you go 'f it idk whats gonna happen, it'll be fine' it'll be okay. but first you need to understand who you are. you trust your Self and just release the stories that tell you you aren't, that you are stuck, that you haven't got it, that you aren't fulfilled etc.

let me rephrase that bcs ppl saying "just believe!" used to piss me off: surrender it all. just stop. on this path you constantly give up trouble. you give up entertaining thoughts that make you feel bad. stop getting annoyed at yourself. stop beating yourself up. stop trying. just let yourself relax. if you want to do something, do it so you can feel better rather than to fix, manipulate, control etc.

all this arguing takes effort. it takes energy to not surrender. its hard to be something you are not. all the effort is being put into being an ego or to resist being it. you're squashing god into a small box and going 'why won't i fit?!' - lester levenson (modified)

Self is perfection, you are not surrendering to get worse, you are surrendering to perfection. Absolute Perfection. your mind only knows like 20 years (less or more!) of experience, in only one way of being. to your Self, there is all.

if theres anything to "do" its recognising stories of limitation and releasing/disidentifying as them.

(although surrendering is put last here. it is actually the first step. it might even be the only step)

self inquiry pointers (do not skip)

could i let go of wanting to get happiness from [insert item] and allow myself to rest as the happiness i am? can i turn [desire] into a desire for freedom? would i rather have the desire or would i rather be free? am i longing for the desire or to get out of pain? can i let go of wanting to change this and let it be as it is? could i let go of [belief]? would i rather believe in [the belief] or know the truth? would i rather believe in [the belief] or be the truth? am i arguing for my limitations?

more

letting go of ego | haven't read yet, but the skim looked good.

detachment | edwardart

what is the main difference between the now and old? | nisargadatta

go all the way, not just tolerate and endure | lester levenson

the true you | 4dbarbie

self surrender | edwardart

things come to die | heavenlythea (use of the word 3d, but still great post)

manifesting is struggling, life is effortless | 4dbarbie

how did i get something random? | 4dbarbie

attachments | 4dbarbie

some pics to read

after thoughts

i talk abt a method after my you don't need a method post lol, but that method is actually completely for the mind, says it upront and isn't just used for manifesting. in the end you'll stop using this too

could this be a guide to recognising your greatness? maybe?

let go of the insane amounts of responsibility, pressure, and personal attachment you've put on yourself.

#lainsmail #lainsreality #nondualism #nonduality #manifestation #spirituality #do not tag this as any law i will hide in ur walls #self inquiry

[genericpuff]

Big steps are scary, but not moving forward is scarier u.u

So I've been sitting on this post for a little while now, I had planned to post it a few days ago but then I crashed for a nap and woke up to the news of LO ending so wound up using that as another excuse LOL

The last few months have been, to put it lightly, brutal. It's not that anything has happened, it's more like nothing is happening - the usual slow season in tattooing has been especially long, with especially less clients coming through the door, so while it's given me loads of free time to prepare for my conventions and work on other projects, it also means I'm not making as much as I'd usually make. And what I usually make is typically what supports everything I do here.

This has basically been me for the last half a year:

(riding it out, just riiiding it out, whoof)

I'm very fortunate to have a job that satisfies my dream of making a living off art, controlling my own schedule, and making money doing it to boot - but the caveat to it all is that it's a luxury service that relies on the economy around me doing well, and the economy around me right now is very much NOT doing well. I'm also very fortunate that my savings are capable of supporting me, but that's all they are, savings - if I'm not making anything, they'll burn up eventually. I'm not sure how physically capable I would be of going back into retail / food service, and it's honestly just not something I want to do after coming this far as a tattoo artist.

I've also learned how valuable and necessary collaboration is during projects like these. Not just to supplement the quality of the work itself, but to supplement the working experience as a whole. Working with an assistant has been an eye-opening experience in that regard.

When I set out to make this account, it was for the purpose of LO shitposting, edits, essays, and nothing much more than that. I wanted to keep it separate for the sake of my mental health and for the sake of my separate audiences, because when I started here, it just... wasn't a popular opinion in the slightest to have opinions about LO and comics like it outside of the positive norm. I had a lot of fear for a long time built up in my head over it, but as time has gone on, I've fortunately had mostly positive experiences and even when they aren't positive... I've proven to myself that I'm capable of moving forward through it all with my head held high and that these scary experiences aren't as scary as they tend to seem in my head. That's really just the funny thing about fear over any sort of 'risky' endeavor.

That said, I've also branched out a lot more from this blog's original purpose. I've talked about the process of making webcomics, Webtoons as a platform, offered alternatives to creators seeking refuge from the more corporate platforms, given out writing and art advice, discussed topics concerning Greek myth, shared my own original works, and basically just naturally progressed into talking about and doing other things because LO will end eventually and I don't want to restrict myself to talking about the same comic forever LOL

This is a crossroads that I've been at for a few months now. And I know nothing will change unless I take a step forward. It might wind up not being in the right direction in the end, but it's forward, and that's all that really matters to me, because staying in the same place forever isn't good for anyone.

So, I guess I'm gonna stop yapping and just show y'all what I've been working on! I brought this up in a Twitch stream the other day and people in the chat were all very supportive and optimistic, so I'm hoping those of you who follow me here will be too ╭( ･ㅂ･)و (and if not, well, you can kick my ass in my inbox later LOL)

I've applied for my genericpuff account on Twitch to become an Affiliate channel and am just waiting on the approval process. Assuming everything goes through well enough, y'all will be able to subscribe to my channel or support it with bits. If I do get approved I'll be doing a rehaul of the channel design and offering some fun lil' goodies for the chat, and I'll be trying to stream at least twice a week.

So please go follow my Twitch account if you haven't yet! It's the best way to get early sneak peeks of Rekindled, as I'm usually working on new episodes, but we're usually also chatting about LO, webtoons related stuff, and other fun topics ٩(｡•ω•｡)و

But now for the biggest new addition - I've started a Patreon account specifically for my genericpuff stuff ! Normally I would redirect anyone who asked to my main Patreon, but it's not as active nowadays simply due to my original projects being on hiatus. And it's not exactly the best space to share any bonus goodies related to my genericpuff account.

That said, I want to make it clear that I will still be putting limitations on what I offer on this page. Anything related to early access sneak peeks will still be free for all. This will be a glorified tip jar first and foremost, most of what I will be offering as bonus goodies and incentives will be stuff like time lapses of pages, art tutorials, original character designs, critique requests, early access adoptables, deleted scenes, etc.

Basically it'll be stuff that I'm already making (or want to make) but will be exclusive to patrons that won't be tied exclusively to the reading experience of Rekindled. The comic will always be free to read, not just because of the legal stipulations of it being a fan project, but because I want it to be.

Alternatively, if you want to access the stuff I have planned for my original work that I will be posting as early access to my Patreon once it rolls out, you can support that Patreon here!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for supporting what I do here, in all of its niche craziness. Building this little community over the past year has been life-changing, and I don't say that lightly. I've worked very hard to maintain what I'm doing here, and I'm going to continue doing so - it's a privilege to write and draw for you all week after week, and I appreciate any and all support you can give so I can keep managing what I do.

And if you can't, that's okay! The best way you can support my work is to read it, share it, and engage with it! Remember that reblogs will always be more beneficial than likes, and please don't ever be afraid to pop in to our streams or into our Discord to say hello! It would be a joy to have you ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Thank you all so much. This has been a big barrier to overcome on a mental level, my anxiety is through the ROOF right now, but I'm so grateful and glad I have such a wonderful circle of readers, community members, and friends who have offered their reassurance through this slow season and process of seeking support. Whether or not this is a step in the right direction, it's at least forward <3 And whatever comes of it, we'll see. But I'll be riding it out all the same ~

#lore rekindled #lore rekindled announcement #lore rekindled comic #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #announcement post #patreon #twitch