#lute feeder
Text
Don't worry honey, your girl will never let you skip dessert time... even if you're panting and full to the brim.
Art inspired by the wonderful story of @zimantha87
You can read it at the following link (I know you will love it if you are as obsessed with fat Adam as I am hahaha): https://archiveofourown.org/works/53607457?view_adult=true
💕✨If you want a personalized commission you can send me a private message ✨💕
#fat adam#chubby adam#chubby adam hazbin hotel#adam x lute#adam feedee#lute feeder#female feeder#male feede#commission#commission work#commission art#open commissions#weight gain#weight gain male#weight gain comic#weight gain sequence#sequence ganing fat#gaining fat#gaining fat male#fit to fat#chubby art#belly art#fat art#kink art#SSBHM#ssbhm art#chubby#chubby boy#chubby male#fatty
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Hey y’all!! It’s time to introduce templetale and it’s characters!!
To start; the au templetale was set on the surface. It’s an au where monsters and humans lived together within a large forest surrounded by a barrier. And of course after the crash, they joined the rest of the AUs.
In templetale, monsters and humans worked together thousands of years ago to put up a barrier around their forest to protect themselves. It’s been long forgotten what exactly was the enemy they were shutting out, but nowadays, the barrier serves as more of a symbol of their dedication to their ancestors the fae
This au has the most complete history of any of the others. They still have old records of a time before the wars where other races lived with monsters and humans. Many believe these are just myths though and take it with a grain of salt.
After the crash, most temple monsters simply just mixed in with every one else. They don’t really stand out magic wise unless they’re one of the monks or a dedicated follower to who took the pact of peace. These monsters (and mages) only develop magic that can help others, any magic that can cause harm is shunned.
The temple grounds now consists of the monks who maintain it, the library staff, and the permanent guards stationed to protect the staff and records. The grounds are surrounded by a barrier maintained by the monks. It’s said to be powered by the same runes that made the barrier of their old forest, recreated by the Drake monsters. People and things can pass through a front and back entrance easily, as long as they show their IDs to the guards
Now let’s meet the characters!
Zen (templetale sans)
Zen is a smaller skeleton monster at only 5 feet tall. He’s 44 years old and has pebble grey magic. His ecto is smooth and soft, but not real chubby.
Zen is a calm, gentle and kind fellow. He’s not shy but can come across as distant being a monster of few words. He’s affectionate with his friends and family, and doesn’t really have much of a sense of danger or survival from coming from such a peaceful au. This tends to lead him into lots of trouble to his brothers horror. Zen is very much technologically illiterate and struggles to learn how to use modern devices, but he’s wonderful at anything nature related.
Zen is a temple worker and monk in the national library, and barrier grounds. His job is a mix of grounds keeping, giving tours, giving sermons, and farming. He’s one of the few monsters left who speaks and reads the old languages fluently, so he’s tasked with translating as well when it’s needed
His special ability is a heightened sense of touch. When he holds onto people, he can tell things about them that normally other senses do; like what they had for dinner, if they have health issues, or what mood they’re in.
As a monk, he was never taught to create magical attacks, instead he has made a pact of peace. His only magic skills are picking things up, soul checks and healing
Hobbies: gardening, birdwatching, playing the lute fiddle and harp, scrapbooking, and swimming
Loved items: the color bronze, honey glazed pears and apples, mead, instruments, new sheet music, forest birds, bird feeders, the text of mother magic
Shield (templetale papyrus)
Shield is a skeleton monster aged 39 years old and standing at 6’1 feet tall. He has a dark moss green magic and a cute tooth gap. His ecto is lean muscle like a runners build
Shield has a lot of energy held back behind a carefully trained sense of self control. He comes across as stoic and dedicated when you first meet him. And he is, on the job that is. When shield isn’t on duty, he’s playful, bouncy and just a real sweetheart. Some think he’s naive like the other temple monsters, but that’s not the case. His time in the guard has taught him to keep watch for others intentions. He’s not so easily tricked.
Shield had been set to train as a monk before the crash, but when the royal guard was reformed, he jumped at the chance to join. He’s now stationed at the library and barrier grounds as security. He works closely with the drakefell guild and the other guards to keep the records safe.
His special ability is rapid growth. He’s unique in that he got the vine growing abilities of his petal monster mom, but without any vines on his body to use it, instead the roots of any plants around him are affected. Roots will grow to massive sizes for him at will, and shrink as well.
His magic weapon is a handsome shield made of bone. It’s spiked on one side and is painful to crash into. It’s how he got his nickname
Hobbies: sparring, swimming, social drinking, first person shooter games, parties, shooting ranges, gardening and entertaining kids
Loved items: the color royal purple, craft beers, small kids, nachos, the halo series, cool misshapen gourds and gourd art, patriotic tshirts
Side characters
Shrine: templetale gaster, a rather bubbly monk at the temple grounds, a real sweetie. Every one thinks he’s younger than he actually is. He’s a skilled musician and plays the ambient music inside the library’s main hall
Daylily: a lily-like petal monster and the soulmate of shrine. Daylily (or Lily for short) is also a monk on the temple grounds and is one of the main garden keepers. She’s a gentle and warm soul, well to those who don’t flirt with shrine that is.
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extended - muse - list part 9
Akira Mizutani - feeder -buff - size 3
Alice Nikumaru - feedee - fat - size 4
Saber - feedee - 800 lbs - futa 10 inch in length and width - ball size medium size watermelons
Rin Tohsaka - feedee - 980 lbs
Luvia Edelfelt - feeder - 132 lbs - futa and balls size - same has sabers.
Ritsuka Fujimaru - feedee - 1,500 lbs - futa and balls size same has Saber.
Morgan le fay - feeder - 135 lbs
Malina -feedee/feeder - 400 tons - futa and ball size -size can be altered by will
Jolyne Kujo -feedee - 1,899 lbs
F.F - feedee - 1,700 lbs
Vaggie - feeder - 1,999 lbs - buff - futa -same has ranma - ball size same has saber.
Charlie morningstar - feedee - 666 tons futa - size changing.
lute - feedee - 4,999 lbs - futa same has vaggie.
Bulma - feedee - 5,111 lbs
Velvet - feedee - 4,200 lbs
Nero draco - feeder - 700 lbs - buff
Noel vermillion - feeder/feedee - 2,990 lbs
Makoto Nanaya - feedee 4,890 lbs
Kokonoe mercury - feeder/feedee 3,600 lbs
ragna blood edge - feeder - buff - 2,800 lbs futa - same has ranma
Cerise Bianca -feeder - 134 lbs
Benjamina tennyson -feedee - weight 1,290 lbs
(Ben body type ref.)
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Stop Taking Yourself So Seriously
"In traditional Buddhist countries, people are quite realistic and laid back concerning dharma practice. Although they have deep faith and devotion, they understand that we are all flawed human beings. So they tend to be less critical both of themselves and others.
Western students, on the other hand, often try to become the perfect practitioner, to transform themselves into a Japanese or Tibetan, assuming not only the outer etiquette, but the inner attitudes of one’s adopted dharma country. Usually, however, this approach merely accentuates one’s low self-esteem and lack of confidence. To walk the path with confidence, we need to accept and befriend ourselves, to feel at ease in our own skin.
Most Buddhist teachers have encountered the tendency of Western practitioners to take themselves and the dharma very seriously. Perhaps it is a leftover from the students’ traditional religious backgrounds, but there is sometimes a humorless quality to the intensity and focus on achievement. Solemnity and earnestness often prevail in Western dharma circles.
One of the noticeable qualities of most Asian dharma teachers—and some Western teachers—is their readiness to laugh and joke. The Dalai Lama is a prime example of someone who spontaneously laughs when anything strikes him as funny—even in the midst of a solemn ceremony. This doesn’t mean that he isn’t deeply sincere; he’s just not too serious.
Usually it is our old companion the ego that likes to take itself seriously in order to feel important. So when we become interested in the dharma, the ego happily cloaks itself with an aura of spirituality and readily agrees to undertake retreats and disciplines to become a better and more realized “me.” Rather than quietly working to change our minds, it is easy to fall into the trap of taking on the most advanced practices and empowerments long before we are ready. This creates discouragement and a sense of failure.
Students sometimes ask: “What will I gain from meditation practice?” or “When will I know that I have realizations or accomplishment?” or even “What is the fastest and easiest way to enlightenment?” One of the problems seems to be making dharma practice into yet another goal to be accomplished.
The texts assure us that we need energy and dedication to advance along the path, just as we would to become proficient in any skill or sport. Yet it is easy to fall into the pattern or trap of making one’s practice rigid and ambitious. We grow depressed when we don’t appear to be making any progress: when we meditate and nothing seems to happen, or when we cannot regain our initial experiences. Our very expectations create a barrier to the natural unfolding of the mind’s potential.
The dharma is supposed to make our lives happier and less encumbered. “Feeders on joy shall we be,” as the Buddha said. The dharma should be like yeast in the heavy dough of our everyday existence, making our days lighter and more digestible. So when our practice becomes yet another rock in the rucksack of life, making everything seem heavier and more stressful, something isn’t working properly.
In the famous simile of a lute, the Buddha explained that just as the strings of a musical instrument should be neither too tight nor too loose, likewise our practice should be well tuned—not too intense and not too lax. Like a marathon runner, we need to pace ourselves.
We need to encourage ourselves and our fellow practitioners to lighten up and stop taking ourselves so seriously. Sometimes I think the seventh paramita should be a sense of humor! It is very unlikely that we will really accomplish full enlightenment in this lifetime. So what? We have countless future lives to continue the work. In this life, we can allow ourselves to relax a bit and enjoy the flowers, even as we keep walking onward."
— Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo
***
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𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼
𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓻𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼
✉ ༊*·˚ 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒. f!reader. gn!reader. fluff. mundane life stuff. smut. angst. toxicity. possessive behaviour. power imbalance. dubious consent. legal age gaps. aftercare. size difference. polyamory. ₊˚ෆ 𝓃𝓈𝒻𝓌. sub!reader. bottom!reader. praise. degradation. dumbification. slapping. spanking. choking. biting. pet play. breeding. dacryphilia. somnophilia. cnc. free use. bondage.
✉ ༊*·˚ 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒. m!reader. dom!reader. pegging. feederism. r4pe. any bodily fluids barring spit. no specific depictions of the reader. i’ll never mention readers skin colour, eye colour, weight, body type or height. anything i don’t feel comfy with.
✉ ༊*·˚𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓂𝓈 𝒾 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇. hazbin hotel.
✉ ༊*·˚ 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒾 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇. alastor. lucifer. vox. lute. husk. lilith. valentino. velvette. maybe adam.
₊˚ෆ 𝒻𝓎𝒾 i typically write my readers to be small, dainty (in a submissive way, not literal, readers looks will always remain neutral so it is for everybody) with a highly girly and feminine personality because that’s what i find easiest to write, primarily using terms like 'good girl' n 'pretty girl' as terms of endearment to fit so if you do want more neutral terms, please specify that when requesting so i know to avoid the phrases i typically use.
my 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 and send 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼
1:11 ───|────── 3:33
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
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RELAX - LIGHTEN UP - AND ENJOY THE FLOWERS
"In traditional Buddhist countries, people are quite realistic and laid back concerning dharma practice.
Although they have deep faith and devotion, they understand that we are all flawed human beings. So they tend to be less critical both of themselves and others.
Western students, on the other hand, often try to become the perfect practitioner, to transform themselves into a Japanese or Tibetan, assuming not only the outer etiquette, but the inner attitudes of one's adopted dharma country. Usually, however, this approach merely accentuates one's low self-esteem and lack of confidence.
To walk the path with confidence, we need to accept and befriend ourselves, to feel at ease in our own skin.
Most Buddhist teachers have encountered the tendency of Western practitioners to take themselves and the dharma very seriously. Perhaps it is a leftover from the students' traditional religious backgrounds, but there is sometimes a humorless quality to the intensity and focus on achievement. Solemnity and earnestness often prevail in Western dharma circles.
One of the noticeable qualities of most Asian dharma teachers - and some Western teachers - is their readiness to laugh and joke. The Dalai Lama is a prime example of someone who spontaneously laughs when anything strikes him as funny - even in the midst of a solemn ceremony.
This doesn't mean that he isn't deeply sincere; he's just not too serious.
Usually it is our old companion the ego that likes to take itself seriously in order to feel important. So when we become interested in the dharma, the ego happily cloaks itself with an aura of spirituality and readily agrees to undertake retreats and disciplines to become a better and more realized "me." Rather than quietly working to change our minds, it is easy to fall into the trap of taking on the most advanced practices and empowerments long before we are ready. This creates discouragement and a sense of failure.
Students sometimes ask: "What will I gain from meditation practice?" or "When will I know that I have realizations or accomplishment?" or even "What is the fastest and easiest way to enlightenment?" One of the problems seems to be making dharma practice into yet another goal to be accomplished.
The texts assure us that we need energy and dedication to advance along the path, just as ve would to become proticient in any skill or sport. Yet it is easy to fall into the pattern or trap of making one's practice rigid and ambitious. We grow depressed when we don't appear to be making any progress: when we meditate and nothing seems to happen, or when we cannot regain our initial experiences.
Our very expectations create a barrier to the natural unfolding of the mind's potential.
The dharma is supposed to make our lives happier and less encumbered. "Feeders on joy shall we be," as the Buddha said. The dharma should be like yeast in the heavy dough of our everyday existence, making our days lighter and more digestible. So when our practice becomes yet another rock in the rucksack of life, making everything seem heavier and more stressful, something isn't working properly.
In the famous simile of a lute, the Buddha explained that just as the strings of a musical instrument should be neither too tight nor too loose, likewise our practice should be well tuned -not too intense and not too lax. Like a marathon runner, we need to pace ourselves.
We need to encourage ourselves and our fellow practitioners to lighten up and stop taking ourselves so seriously. Sometimes I think the seventh paramita should be a sense of humor!
It is very unlikely that we will really accomplish full enlightenment in this lifetime. So what? We have countless future lives to continue the work. In this life, we can allow ourselves to relax a bit and enjoy the flowers, even as we keep walking onward."
~ Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo
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Would you date someone heavier than you?
Abso+lutely!! I kno+w I'm big, but I lo+ve big girls... I'd lo+ve to+ be so+meo+ne's do+ting feeder, lo+o+king skinny alo+ngside them
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An arm and a maidenhood, it means,
A sonnet sequence
1
Who love, her soul to keep it, and prey. Visits
here! Thou dost lord my head. His snorting
food, the silly sheep. Every tress must brush
on every one attends. An arm and a
maidenhood, it means, a Season gay, like
things; but first-fruits—they danc’d to be an hour
or half’s delight we sought Sugar with though
this world goes by and take my days alone
presently unmew my soul; and strands with
idle paines and sky. With whitening his
strong in thy jocund youth: yea, every place
to face, in plenteous showers, dew-drops, and
iust excuse of life—intense—lost to mortal,
starry Fays; to overwhelm surmise?
2
Over the distance like a beam of thy
hand the fuse inside my heedless footsteps;
and we all go forward as if an
openness oft that lightly dream, i’ll hide those
feeder was smashed last night thy fair imperfection
of it. Whether, the wrinkled head
of sighs I consecrate toward it and her
care. Make my vows, and for thy face: o, let
it fly as unconfin’d restraint! Settled
for less? Casting of thee to the trip and
not say be sure my heedless footsteps stirr’d,
and unfolded to pour myself dost pay.
The silver’d o’er a shell is over-smooth,—
and not so long blink is a scream&a yes.
3
To toll me by thy love he should ever come back to thee my
fancy. I cannot be undecided, about me where the
loved of mortal too. What wasn’t fooled. Clasp thou him. Was never grownde
did lave their steps lead into the traditional South. Hourly
had he strive that thou in thy soul, as in a mossy skulls that
she does penance now I could recall whatsoever Thou shall
suffer with knout? If I be dear. Trees old and where I stood, if
a hand, of foot, obliquely run; thy firmness makes me end where
else shall: then my heart, for a frog. Her eyes, genders a novel
sense, at which now behold! An ordinary walls, the youthful
time, this is the widest alley they view things I have been half
smiles, yet slays me with the breeze with thorns out-grown like spikes of silver
lute, with an awed face, among the thin underground veins. Her
verdurous glooms and bring again, without a Thorn, and presence!
4
Of things have their voice was on his chosen
bow: and, without pains to stake out the circles
did roll through almond vales: who, sudden
silent workings of the May of my tree
that which who drank, he said: Brother, as just
so. Went, spirit, not admit it has gotten
to be an hour or half’s delight win
oblivion, and stone to thee. Reaching
late his friend, you need to fetch from others
of amethyst,—would I flee from purblind
was I to see again young Daphnis with
sudden burst, upon her self-possesseth
all its mystery. Even while admiring
the wish’d, the trysted hour! And your heart.
5
Nature’s crowning sun of spice. The effigies that deepen freshly
into the How; Giving and dry down scatter’d world, and live
now, the stems of plants. To summon all the highways slide out of
my tree that burneth alway ye have stings of human neighbourhood
envenom all. And the kingdom come back. Deaf that fish, that
the panacea, Sir! I slid the aged priest full of dewy
wine, above the mice huddle, as the Rosebud of itself
embalming, sweet first your feet were starres, thy breast, from low-grown
branches, and often too a little, lisping laughter of the
mazy world of silvery setting; we may compare may think
thereon, my spirit’s. And sink thus low! Ah, Chloris mair than ever
to other given: I hold his looks translate! Has got to
him. Then I knew what sedged brows bushes and rose-trees wet with
glad exclaim, because their myriad voices which state recouers.
6
From such high state the sun’s golden honeycombs;
our village street its five knuckles and
lilies of the toucht with thou mayst have
profanation of Apollo’s foot; bronze clarions
awake, and to us so fast thou
wander’d—all they first release. And relax
Pluto’s brow, I see descried high tower’d
thee! We are they pelt each moments, opening
cloys and the hills at eventide through
which we should teach or bribe me to death: but
’twas love; what can give pleasant sun is getting
of such fire that pushes us off
from the whole world’s release. Foot the jewelled
mine could figures wild of o’er-hanging.
7
Us fancy, till at last, by hap, through
all that in thy voyce the angels shining;
for there, my darling, th’ East, to wanton
Nimph for him; to a boon southern country
tone; lost it too. To glances let me
give my grief at parting cry, from innocent
bird before the midnight watch and dote
upon deceased I than niggard truth of
such day as after him fair with his flute
his flown! Far dearer to make mad the rocks
that broodest o’er the city’s din; now while
in half smiles, yet still either may create
the crossbeam of the world at last into
a shady, fresh, and round save what thy will.
8
Yes, thou ask proof? Tongue, and smoother red nor
sweet sister: of all the unpermitted
ferry’s flow, and healthier brain, he said
no thoughts, in blind amaze tossing breath’d a
sister: of all things which who dream’d of
idleness in groves Elysian: but the struggles
to devise, among his broad should our
younglings: next, like a calendar in one
as welcome as a friendship, and thy fingers.
And oh, her dream. Close by, began the
ice chest tiptoe to reaching that place that
flowers are rebuilt. Thy pity may deserves
they fled? Will open it: there’s a
way found, and shar’d the traditional South.
9
Low voic’d: Ah whither he heed it overteem
with ministrant of unfamiliar
men to-night deep feeling so proud; your faith
dost most heavenly powers do stur; in
the starry Fays; the shatter’d infant buds,-—
that the finger’s taperness, and cut a
smoothest echoes that down their noses through
the airy stress of flowery perching;
frown a lion ramps at the fog. Come with
a hill-flowers are rebuilt. It’s a kind
of marriage ring or a little kissable
mouth with the same, and both that my life
decay, lest the middle of February
and as real as a cast-iron pot.
10
Here is not think the Rahvs in the long-neck’d
geese of this enough your scissors and wondered
greatly, knowing how far to Shah and
Subject bounded on sinful loving: o,
but where is how I control my head. And
foreign Lands reckon, where there! That done, yet
do more to shake ambition is the ceiling.
Too quick to spring of the flowery
pride flash’d over you made. Find it merit
lived in mine, the sum of your invective
scorched the trembling waves and towers of
the world, and sweet among and earnestly,
through the ball. I dreamed of war where thy lying.
That which I sigh’d that I am duped.
11
Of winter’s drifting snows, and with their stalks,
I’ll say, I wish theeues do roses; and the
aged priest eyed them from pain. For all her
store, harsh featureless belling to rehearse
each one another way, and meet some one
else shallop, floating themselves to strew daisies,
vermeil rimm’d and the Neptune’s restless
lie frae e’en to mortals he is fam’d
to be mery with full happiness … and
oh, her like dying fish; the vermeil rimm’d
and shy and poker-faced the kitchen, unload
my bundles, make in draught in a new
delight was pleasant sun is gone, he wends
unfollow’d, he must ever suffer paine.
12
Who knows to kiss the result will not care;
for, I protesting, person to chickadees
and sits high upon their gay, sunny
meadows, that sleep I dreamt of loyal in
hot bloody trial,—alas! Beneath the blooms:
and suit thy pipe is lost, unheard, and dies;
his name is Jupiter, my Lord, by Fate,
and the whispering round a temples bind;
and, ever and steale but goods which we
should tire of hell it was grassy and
wanted wear; though ne’er declare—i’ll say ’tis
no prize, that spicy nest. Pride like delicate
change; and sunny meadows runnels, runnels
pebbles, stuck in the dangerous sky.
13
Of heaven is with green and passionless peace, misery’s increas’d
the silly she was springs to yellow girted bees their
murderous and hillock turf, and chuckling linnet, aft wander’d,
by divine converse, into Elysium; vieing to espy
some folk of holiday! The music and in Julia’s cheek against
mind. But like ye, there content; what not one fleecy lamb which
is worse, makes no show to move, but when I am to when upon
the swamp for a day, when the old men in the mice huddle,
as the bier, white hawthorn, and thy breast, and all this because it
was heard So she was kind only because I laugh’d and shoutèd
and smil’d, chatted with us, or we die. Like gold forest brake,
rich wit so poor as mine, no shape so true, no thoughts hath not marvel
at either Hand—not by common look’d up: a conflicting
of the million of little cup will put choice of directed.
14
The whole solemn night, and wonder, fair sisters
blame my origin with uplift hands
mumble delicate balloons resting down
thy nature says: My child, with night, but being
mine, mine important person, her face
doth stand, hammer in full-throated ease. Promise
made a vocation of our poor Thames
shore? Instinct with the beauteous head of
Proserpine, among the way appeare: what sweet,
O Love, whene’er you can using it rest
as the girl, who is cald, the world. Ah, it
is esteem’d, so are thine. Buds lavish gold;
or ye, whose heart, for thy fair in my heart
in mountains, save Love’s grave; here will attends.
15
With whitening long to Heaven, that golden
sea, whose heart doth sing; sings his Sicilian
shepherd-pipes we first? My ioyes from a
stag. How carefully I score: he seeks, shy
to illumine; and how he used to sing.
So smooth win grace with the brave Caledonia’s
blast on the even doth her dream. And
looked brow; the whisper, and poor; the proud
palaces and lives? Since she does depart; but
sorrow to hang on your worth, th’inheritrix
of fame, to one, who would slip through the
Country he is death. Was drinking throng. It
was braw, when I have heard. A-list’ning themselves
looking with tall grass a not too base?
16
Dove. I would thus weigh down their pride like
delicate balloons resting beneath his head.
And with content to melting melodious
plot and we will be, yet, Thyrsis, still
then not a soul would take my horn parley
from this sin there lay a boar-spear keen. There
by so remote a Fountain that, at
lengthening winds, above thee the nail in it.
Her ebon urn, young company looks upon
Maud’s own garden-trees, where falling string
each time for the track by Child, gaue her
Ambrosian pap, and the way, young cheek; he cannot
miss, there breathe away on a flood, the
one long as you are now exanimate.
17
Caught thee with Azra to their summers’ pride,
and lady vntrue, you and I, is the fainting
of the space of a swallow’s nest-door,
could be better than night-swollen mushrooms?
But at this passing heaved thee how my wits
to raise her? Your words, my friendship, and sad,
alas! Moment more, our feet—too boiled and
wave of men contention-tost, of men who
groan, which by and by that takes to-night! For
all I have much time for me, I am
aliue and heart of thy soul abroad the mere
content to lick a human serpentry,
have been standing under the new-mown hay,
till it begins to progress silver hooks.
18
Where breathe but o’er the heaven rending, and
with blushing, waning, willing leaves, of owlets
cry, of logs piled solemn night, eight at
a time, socked it up. Her violets, and all
this was fair, ever in London, you want
to call think its Fountains; and thou sinn’d in
angels would often come home, my course but
still he grew so tender hand, as if you
would they seem when the vault so let our love
a little shall heed—for the autumn pond
which made him from Fingers later, you turn
back to me. Night arise; come, come, there in
sagging my spirit in a showers, the
Vale, they are two; thy soul the phantom wooed.
19
As virtuous soule, sure heire of hell it
was but a step to be at one with thee
well. Had eyes doth make his delight—the heath
and fear: love all over April’s tender
grace. Why did I kiss the workings of the
spoyle is euill, far worse of conuersation
sweet peas, I must go, endures but a
man could not leaves Astrea’s clime, half-lost in
them. He danced along, bearing of their ripen’d
fruitage; yellow autumn pond which methinks
my luve o’ my beauty’s summer gleams
and wonders puls’d tenfold, to feel thou after
sunset, which her stop nor start to him,
a blue hare-bells, or are moved by a Fool?
20
The shepherds, ’twas even as the milk tip.
Hee, in wanting bee, reaching base, no merely
feel this is the world, and permit a
place but this, for Tyrans make folke bow: of
foes the far-off sail is blown it must not
gainsay love, aside to hate or else that
creeps from the found, if this great light noise of
thy happy change. Not love through some ancient
bugaboo followed, and spite; and white, of
mingle with as sunburnt looks translated
and whispered lowly, how dark tree tops? How
many years and oarlocks for the flowers
then gathered, smell the sun. Or turn
And took an airy range, and blue again.
21
Open further wish’d, mid that is false, thoughts
and eyes, they all are gone to Wámik—Oh
Thou victim of the Phrygian king, for
speaking ears, angels shining has shown the
dull twanging your hollow, from the morningless
and twigs, might be my leading, by degree
that fish would race with quiver; so plainly
tell, which gaining me, doth love himself
into a Greek’s ear, speaking safety in
the life from a look on the hill, my heart;
I said thou wert most subtle soul is sense—
cannot go to sleep; to give disquiet,
turtles passion of a dream? Most worthy
prove; unless it did, and me in the bay!
22
She loved the Partridge—or fell asleep, yet
I shudder’d and show it so, and with the
skies. Nor cloud and blond meadows, the heaven,
with darkness, guess each sweets, enkindling sad
sickens our forehead; the rising sun. Strange
minstrel memories of thee the Lily
and clown: perhaps the broken. Love all in
all;—no more. Gold cup, a rose, fain to state
the struggles to blend with this, I though its
little beam reflects upon thy charge nibble
their womanhood, it means, a Season
gone. The name I used to slander and wither
dream. I saw him not for love even
with so subtle soul to see us pass?
23
Do the fruit of the dim echoes of old!
Nor Usury wrung from a stag. So she
was kind only because it might watch our
heart, for the world aside, has grown yew tree,
are diuels in truth, with sounds forlorn. But you
are cool, like the gnawing sloth on the highways
slide out of my story. Who may with
feather and nerve: you were white neck, and crystal
heaven, then kisses and glad, or how
can I gang brisk and breathing my spirits,
and an alas! I saw him not for that
light thy faire appears, which had a juice in
it, hoping the trembling mazes that grow
the Fyfield tree, why do ye fall in rest.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 7#116 texts#sonnet sequence
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might have almost died but at least my crush likes me back - percy x gn!crush!reader
pairing: percy x gn bad swimmer crush reader
wc: 1.4k
warnings: some swearing, near drowning, water monsters, nonsexual tenticals ever look up and wonder how you’ve gotten to this point, some general dumbassery but what did you expect
summary: was charging into battle against a water monster when you practically need a pool noodle to shower a bad idea? yes. was getting rescued by percy and finding out he has a crush on you worth it? abso fucking lutely.
requested: yuh
song I listened to while writing this: what the water gave me - florance and the machine
Okay, jumping into the water was definitely not your smartest move, especially since you still need water wings when you go canoeing in the camp lake. In your defense, you have beef with this piece of shit monster. What are you supposed to do, not beat the shit out of it when it tries to go after your friends and sink your ship? No! Plus, will kicking it’s ass possbily impress Percy? Maybe! Is that worth it? Hell fucking yes! You jump in there with a plan; you’ll charge in head first, land on its back where its’ blind spot is, and attack while it tries in vain to reach you. The one thing you didn’t expect was for it to sink below the water and keep going further down, which is where you find yourself now.
Okay, you think, don’t panic. Hard advice to take when you’re watching the surface recede as you get dragged further down. You’re still trying to stab the bastard, but it’s not working. You know when to pick and choose your battles - literally - and it’s time to retreat. You pull out your sword and try to jump off its back, but you don’t move. You look down, another spike of panic shooting through you, making your collar bones hot and stomach drop sickeningly.
This piece of shit has two tentacles wrapped around your feet and ankles.
Oh fuck.
You start to swing desperately at the gelatinous arms holding you down, but your movements are heavy and sluggish, and you can’t land a good hit. A heavy, deep dread fills you as you realize the depth of the situation you’re in. Your mind is already racing with the worst possible outcome, but you try to shove that away, and return to trying to free yourself. If you’re going down, you’re going down swinging. Plus, the others will probably realize what happened, they’ll probably come in for back up any second.
A wall of stone and sand appears to your right, and you dare to look down at the trench the monster is dragging you down into. You haven’t been down here for too long, but the panic is making you feel light headed. If you pass out down here, that will really be the end. A shadow passes over you, or maybe your vision is going dark, you can’t tell. Either way, you try really really hard not to think about how screwed you are.
A blurry, overlapping combination of Fuck! and No! are all that go through Percy’s mind as he stares at the rippling, swirling water where you were one second ago. He can’t stop seeing the tips of your hair getting dragged into the churning blue depths. Overwhelmed with dread, he feels the water was over him before he realizes he even jumped. He follows the irregular currents from the monsters wake, never wanting so badly to vaporize this bottom feeder. A steely determination rushes through him, overpowering his fear, his worry for you, and yells louder than his racing panic about how hurt you could be; he is going to get you, and you’re going to be fine.
He had left you for one second - one second! - and you somehow managed to do the dumbest, bravest, hottest thing possible and charge after that monster. He pushes aside those thoughts.
They’re instantly replaced with a rush of hypotheticals; the feeling of your arms around his neck, how you’ll blush when he asks if you’re okay, how he’ll kiss your forehead and tell you how stupid that was, maybe your eyes lock, your hands come up to his cheeks, and-
He stops them again, chastising himself for thinking about that at the literal worst possible time.
‘I have to find you first...’ He muses, catching up to the monster - and more importantly, you - a moment later.
‘And there you are.’
His shadow passes over you, and a bubble escapes your mouth. Another hot spike of dread cuts through him. He speeds up, drawing his sword, but hesitates when he sees the tentacles holding on to you. A new plan is immediately in mind. He’s only got one chance at this, he has to line up his shot perfectly.
He speeds down, swings one immaculate arc with his sword, and cuts you free. He pulls you toward him with his free hand, making an air bubble around your head. His nerves calm slightly as you catch your breath, returning to your normal color.
“Stay here,” he says firmly, helping you get your footing a safe distance from the trench. You nod, hands still clutching his arms. He can’t tell what adrenaline is from the fight and what’s from you, but it doesn’t matter. He’s ending this now.
He turns back to the monster.
“Hey shrimp breath!”
The beast rises, turning to look at him. It was not expecting this. He raises his sword slowly, then races forward, slicing through its weak point. It lets out something between a roar and a shriek, sending currents that almost knock you over. He jabs the thing two more times for good measure. As soon as it starts to turn to dust, he swims back over to you, pulling you into a tight hug, and rising to the surface in one fluid motion.
You gasp when you break the surface, mostly out of relief, but the feeling of going up doesn’t stop. It takes you a second to realize Percy is waterbending you both up, arching to the side, and setting you gently on the deck of the ship.
“Are you okay?”
It takes you a second to process everything that just happened. Your mind replays the most terrifying - four, maybe five? - minutes of your life, ending with breaking the surface, rising back up to the boat, and having Percy’s hands on your cheek and shoulder, worriedly inspecting you for any injuries. Wait, what? You realize what he asked, and sputter out a response.
“Y- uh, yeah, I’m totally fine-”
“What the hell was that?!”
You blink in surprise as he keeps going.
“That could have gone so wrong, why would you just- just jump into the fucking ocean without a plan b, or a life vest, or something!”
Is he lecturing you? You hold back a smile as he continues, you don’t think he’s ever lectured you before. It’s really cute.
He pulls you close, your cheeks heating up as he presses his face into the side of your neck. You feel more grounded in his arms than you probably ever have.
“I… I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” He says it so softly you almost don’t catch it. His face nuzzles against your skin, taking in your presence, and presses the smallest kiss to your neck.
Oh.
Your mouth hangs open as it dawns on you how he feels.
He pulls away, face flushed, and rubs the back of his neck.
“Uh, do you…” he trails off, searching your expression for an answer.
Of course you like Percy; everyone does. You don’t know one person at camp who doesn’t like him at least a little. Camp Half Blood culture is smelling like barbeque smoke, not questioning it when you find a new bruise or scar, and having at least a small to moderate crush on Percy Jackson. We’ve all had it. The giddiness from finding out he likes you feels almost fake. You snap out of your internal spiral, realizing you haven’t answered him yet.
“Yes- yeah, of course… I mean, hello, you’re Percy freaking Jackson. There’s a mile long list of people who have a crush on you.”
He glances to the side. You’ve never seen him smile like that, it looks good on him. He pulls you close, thumb running over your cheek, foreheads almost touching.
“There’s only one name on that list I care about.”
Your lips meet, and you can tell how long he’s wanted to do this. He angles his head just right, and you reach a surprising new level of euphoria you didn’t know existed. You eventually pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath for the second time.
His words from before replay in your mind.
“... it is my name, right?”
He laughs and pulls you into a hug.
‘I could definitely get used to this.’
Standing on the deck, holding you in his arms, Percy is thinking the same thing.
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus x reader#percy jackson x gn reader#x gn reader
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Prompt: The first time Jaskier sees Geralt hunting a selkimore, and the ensuing panic because Geralt Did Not advise that the best method was to “get it from the inside”
hey so thank you for this, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write.
you can also read it on ao3
“So, what is it we’re hunting again?” Jaskier chirped as he struggled to keep up with the Witcher.
Geralt grunted as he waded through waist high reeds and rushes. The scent of silt off the lake ahead of them hung heavy in the air and the thick heat of the sun was stifling.
“The alderman didn’t seem very sure about it,” Jaskier stumbled slightly, readjusted his lute strap and tried to pick up the pace, “He was very vague. ‘A big monster in the lake is eating people.’ That was all about he said wasn’t it? Did you get anymore from the villagers? You know? The witnesses? I mean, you’ve taken on contracts with less to go on before but – Geralt? Are you even listening to me?” Jaskier stopped, hands on his hips, frown on his face.
Geralt paused, scanning the surface of the lake with keen amber eyes, then continued to push his way towards the shoreline. He didn’t miss Jaskier’s indignant huff and he rolled his eyes.
“A selkimore,” he gruffed.
“A what?” Jaskier hurried to catch up to him again.
“A selk – A big monster in the lake that eats people, though not usually on purpose,” the Witcher growled with a sigh.
“Wait what?”
“They’re plankton feeders but can suck up a boat if it gets in the way of its feeding path. Usually I try to leave them alone, but this one has settled too close to people,” Geralt grunted, “And we are not hunting anything. I am hunting it. You are going to stay out of the way.”
“Yes, yes,” Jaskier waved him off nonchalantly.
“I mean it Jaskier,” Geralt glared at him over his shoulder and Jaskier wilted.
“Fine,” a slight pout graced his lips.
“Hm.”
Jaskier inhaled sharply then fell into step behind the Witcher as they continued their trek through the tall grasses.
“So, how does one kill a selkimore?” the Bard asked.
“In a very specific way,” Geralt rumbled.
“Care to elaborate?”
Jaskier crashed into Geralt’s back as the Witcher halted abruptly.
“What? Did you see something?” he peeked out from behind Geralt.
The reeds bled into thick mud littered with rocks which met with the murky water of the lake, stretching out for miles beyond. Thick, dense forest lined the far shore and the mid-morning sun glinted off the water like glass.
“It knows we’re here,” Geralt mumbled, pulling his silver sword from its sheath.
“Ominous as statements go,” Jaskier lilted, keeping that light air about him even though Geralt could tell he was on edge, could sense the coil of tension creeping into his posture, could smell the spike of uncertainty mingling with his usual floral scent.
“Stay here,” he ordered then marched, or rather, squelched his way to the water’s edge.
Jaskier crouched down among the rushes, keeping his blue eyes trained on Geralt as the Witcher stalked slowly along the shoreline. Getting to witness his muse carry out great and heroic deeds in person always made for better ballads than second-hand information, and Geralt was terrible at recounting what happened. Watching from a safe distance suited Jaskier fine. He had no intention of putting himself in danger if he could help it, and he would get to watch his friend in action. A win-win situation.
He narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sun as Geralt picked up a stone and threw it into the lake. The water shimmered with the ripples and anticipation clawed at Jaskier’s gut.
The lake became still again, and he heard Geralt’s grunt of annoyance. The Witcher scooped up another stone and launched it even further. It broke the waters surface with a ‘plop’ and the ripples chased each other with the impact but still nothing.
Jaskier shuffled slightly in his hiding place. Any other person would assume that either the monster wasn’t there, or try a different spot to bring it forth, but Geralt has sensed it and Jaskier trusted the Witcher to know what he was doing.
Geralt tossed a third stone in the air but before he had the chance to throw it, the lake erupted in front of him and he stumbled back as streams of water and a foul stench washed over him.
Jaskier let out an audible gasp.
The creature that rose from the lake towered a good thirty feet above Geralt. It resembled a large, thick, white skinned worm with rows upon rows of jagged teeth in its gaping maw. It fixed Geralt with small fierce eyes and, sensing malicious intent, it lunged at him, crab-like legs scrabbling at the mud as it hauled itself out of the water. Its piercing screech rang across the lake.
Jaskier’s heart pounded wildly in his chest as he watched Geralt leap out of the way, brandishing his sliver sword and steadying himself. The Bard felt that familiar pang in his gut as he wondered how on earth the Witcher was going to take down something that seemed so impossible and then walk away, or limp away as was often the case.
He’ll be fine, Jaskier assured himself, he always is. He’ll do some cool thing with his sword or his magic signs and – SWEET MOTHER OF MELITELE!
Jaskier’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Bile rose in his throat. Shock blurred his vision.
It-the selkimore-the-the fucking-it had eaten him! Swallowed him whole! And Geralt just…just let it! Didn’t even try to defend himself. What the fuck had just happened?
Panic muddled Jaskier’s brain as he crouched among the reeds trying to process what he had just seen. He was struggling to breathe as the grief crashed into him and tears pricked at his eyes and he didn’t know what to do.
He’d been travelling with Geralt for a few years now and even though the life of a Witcher held many dangers, he had assumed that there would be plenty more years to come. He was building a life for himself, a reputation, he mattered to people. He was building something with Geralt. Trying to be the man’s friend was like pulling teeth, but he was slowly getting there, and he knew that even though the Witcher would never admit it, Geralt enjoyed having him around. But for it all to just suddenly come to and end, and for it to end like…like this?
Jaskier stared at the selkimore as it swayed slightly. A burning hatred towards it scorched through him. The thought to rush out and stab it with the knife tucked into his boot did cross his mind, but he knew that would only accomplish his own death. And then who would remember Geralt? Who would immortalize him in song so that he wouldn’t be forgotten? That was his job now. To sing about the White Wolf until the end of his days. To honour him and his good heart and… Jaskier brushed the tears threatening to spill down his face with the back of his hand.
Oh gods, another thought struck him, how am I going to tell Roach?
The selkimore lifted its blunt-nosed head and seemed to shiver. It blinked up at the sun and made a soft hissing noise. Slowly, it started to slither back into the water but then it stopped. Its whole body seemed to coil and convulse and then, to Jaskier’s horror, it reared up with a bellow of pain as its guts spilled from a gash along its stomach. Organs and blood slopped onto the wet mud and Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. Geralt tumbled to the ground as he hacked his way out of the monster. The selkimore writhed and flailed then crashed back into the water, its last cry gurgling in its throat as it died.
The Witcher stood, gulping in air and trying to wipe the worst of the gore from his face. Jaskier burst from his cover and pelted over to him.
“You’re alive!” he whooped, grinning from ear to ear, giddy relief plastered all over his face, “I thought you were gone! I thought I’d lost you!”
“I told you there was a specific way to kill it,” Geralt gruffed, pulling at face at the rancid smelling muck coating his skin and clothing.
Jaskier’s beaming smile faltered and indignant fury clouded over him.
“You dick. You should have told me. I was worried sick. I thought-“
“Jaskier. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Geralt glanced at him, that annoying confusion tainting his expression, like it always did whenever Jaskier expressed concern for him.
“Well-well-fuck! Bloody hell Geralt! How was I supposed to know you planned on getting yourself eaten! I thought you were dead! I thought –“ his voice broke on the last word and he turned away from Geralt, shaking with the effort to control himself.
Geralt frowned at him, trying to puzzle through the torrent of emotion coming off Jaskier in waves.
“I’m sorry,” he said carefully, “You’re right. I should have told you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Just…” Jaskier turned to him again and Geralt was taken aback by how very small and hurt he looked, “Just don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I won’t,” Geralt tried for reassuring and sincere but he wasn’t sure the Bard believed him.
“Right. Good,” Jaskier mumbled.
He cast an eye over Geralt then sighed.
“Come on. Back to the tavern. We’ve a hefty coin purse to pick up and you need a bath.”
“Hm.”
“No protesting. If we are sharing a room tonight, I refuse to sleep in the same space as you, stinking like that,” Jaskier sounded a bit more like himself, blue eyes sparking with mirth.
“Fine.”
Jaskier spun on the spot and marched off back in the direction of the village. Geralt followed after him and even though the Bard was babbling on about trying to find words that rhymed with selkimore, the Witcher could tell that this had affected Jaskier more deeply than he was letting on and he promised himself to remember to talk Jaskier though each step of the hunt in the future as to not cause him any more hurt if he could help it.
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How do you feel about geralt getting jaskier chubby, sneaking him lots of extra snacks? As jaskier gets chubbier, they’re both pretty into it
I'm always hesitant about weight gain but I have seen some decent fics so I'll try my hand at it. But I don't agree with real life feeders/feeding because it's just a bit too toxic but to each their own.
I can see it as Geralt stressing when they first start travelling because he's a witcher, he can control his metabolism so he doesn't outright starve but Jaskier doesn't have that luxury, not to mention he's walking for miles. So Geralt begins hunting more to give Jaskier extra helpings of dinner, and being insistent about it when the bard jokes about him being a mother hen or a big bad wolf trying to fatten him up.
And it works, at least Geralt thinks it does because he doesnt see Jaskier get any slimmer but it's just not good enough. So he soon keeps back a portion of each contract, no matter how big or small so he can buy treats for Jaskier, whether thats an extra helping of dinner at an inn or a handful of sweet treats to eat on the road, insisting Jaskier finish the half a loaf of bread otherwise it'll go stale and rotten.
It's about a year on the road, of giving Jaskier more and more snacks to eat on the road, normally sweet pastries or bits of cheese with bread, to buying or hunting him a third and sometimes even a fourth helping of food where he'll spoon the food into Jaskiers mouth telling him he needs to keep his strength up to walk the path with him.
He doesn't outright notice the difference at first, and neither does Jaskier, but one morning a few months later he watches Jaskier tug and pull at the clothing he's put on, before settling on undoing a few of the buttons on his doublet. He can see why due to the padding of fat around his stomach and hips now, how his face looks fuller and even just from pulling his lute over his shoulder he has to take a deep breath.
He watches Jaskier for the rest of the day, see the slight sheen of sweat that covers him all day, and how red his face goes and how deep his breaths are when they crest a small hill, so he does the honorable thing and offers Jaskier to ride Roach which he gratefully accepts unt they reach the inn.
That night he watches Jaskier try to flirt with a number of people at the bar, all who sneer and turn him down until he comes sulking back to his seat beside him. When they retire to their room Jaskier takes off his clothes and spends a good few minutes looking at hinself, grabbing at the rolls of his stomach, poking at his thicker thighs, pinching at his full cheeks and focusing on the layer of fat under his chin before the man turned to him pouting and vulnerable.
When Jaskier asks if he looks fat Geralt is quick to go to him, wrapping him up in his arms and telling him how good he looks all filled out and healthy, how he's physically showing Geralts care over the last few months.
It takes Geralt whispering all sorts of praise and sweet nothings in Jaskiers ear, telling him how he's practically glowing now that he's all filled out, and starts kissing across his shoulders as his hands tease at Jaskiers half hard cock before moving up to grab at his hips and tugging him back to his bed.
He has Jaskier settle on his lap and pulls out the small bag of sweet he'd bought earlier and feeds them one by one to Jaskier, groaning when the bard licks at his fingers after each sweet, sucking the sugar off his fingers and begging for more when he's done and Geralts all too happy to oblige when he pulls out the pastry he'd bought at the market earlier that day, which Jaskier quickly eats downx eyes focused on him as Geralt used his free hand to tease at Jaskier nipples and when he's done puts his hands on Jaskiers ass, groaning at the extra fat there as he grinds their cocks together.
He tries to get Jaskier to ride him, and Jaskier lasts about a minute before his thighs were shaking with the strain and he was panting for air, the sight has him grabbing Jaskiers waist and brace his feet to start fucking up into Jaskier, and just the slap of their thighs together, the ripple of Jaskiers body as he tries to hold himself up has him come with a shout and he just about has the mind to jerk ofd Jaskier who has practxally collapsed onto his chest from fatigue, now a sweaty and tired mess, before he comes too.
Geralt spends the rest of the night worshipping Jaskiers filled out body, enjoying way too much the bite marks now littering the inside of his fat thighs, how they'll make Jaskier squirm as they rub together when he walks and agitate the bites, but he keeps going until Jaskier is just an incoherent mess and begging for a drink and a snack before bed, finally content that he's desirable like this and helps himself to both a second breakfast and Geralts plate the next day, teasing the witcher the whole time so that as soon as they're into the wilderness Geralts pulling him aside to fuck him against a tree.
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Watching My Diet.
Of Words and Images, That Is.
As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested.—Oscar Wilde, from The Picture of Dorian Gray.
1.
When I was pregnant, I was astounded by the amount of shit-advice people felt entitled to force upon me, thanks to the visual whistle-blower of my growing belly.
I kept the book, Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, by Ina May Gaskin next to my bed like a sacred text. The second half of the book contains a collection of empowered women sharing inspiring stories of their natural birth experiences. I read at least one story every night to off-set the deflating stories that were pushed at me. (One, still clear as day in my mind over a decade later, came from a woman who had never had kids! She said, in low tones and with concern in her eyes, “It’s the most painful thing you will ever experience. You WILL NEED DRUGS.”)
I would often fall asleep with Ina May’s book on my chest, thinking maybe the positive messages would cause seep into my being, like a topical treatment.
Now, during the era of COVID19, the news is an IV drip of mounting catastrophe into all of our collective veins. And the way we receive news during these current times is 24-7, on screens, visual, relentless and without limits. (PS: as said in Time, “media images can be so intense that they can cause symptoms of acute stress or even PTSD.”)
Like many, I find myself falling into the habit of using my few-far-between windows of space to either read updates from the Post and the Times, or to check social media. While informative at best, these word-venues are, nutrient-wise, anemic crumbs not suitable for a bottom-feeder.
So why the impulse to keep going back?
According to Time Magazine, “The human brain is wired to pay attention to information that scares or unsettles us—a concept known as “negativity bias“. Meaning, our brains are predisposed to go negative, and the news we consume reflects this.”
On a personal level, my intake of news is rising by the day—sometimes seemingly out of my control. I’ll just be grabbing my phone to check the weather and suddenly I’m well into an article on the pandemic, as if in a trance.
Without clear boundaries and a bit of mindfulness, the news and media we are ingesting can be far more toxic than beneficial. The effects of constant negative-news consumption are real and complex.
And I feel the wear-and-tear in my mental state, to be sure. I’ve been taking in the news every night, just before bed, via my tiny phone screen as if that makes it less potent and more manageable. Not the case. I can easily slip into helplessness, along with tasting the vinegar of potent rage in the back of my throat, even as I’m trying to settle in for sleep.
Anxiety and stress create cortisol, which can wreak havoc throughout the physical body and beyond. My neck and shoulders feel like they are clutching with white-knuckles for some unseen disaster, pretty much all the time. Yoga and breathing provides a world of help while doing it, but the muscle memory is so deep, that the bad patterns often return within moments of back-to-life.
This is not to say the solution is to bypass the news entirely. But if we are in this for the long haul, deliberate choices need to be made, for the stability of everyone.
2.
Last week, my dear friend, Steph, mailed a box of crafting goodies to my girls. An eclectic mix of junk-drawer extractions and art things—things that have the potential to clutter up a house. But, when assembled in a package with intention and love, feel like vintage treasures from another world. Girl scout patches, circa the early 1990’s, ribbon in original packaging from the Carter administration, an untethered bouquet of white plastic glitter flowers. And in the midst of this treasure chest: a hardcover copy of the Oscar Wilde book, The Picture of Dorian Gray.
It was a fancy, old-timey edition that I had read through and written-in during college, using the same red ink from the same red pen the whole way through. My handwriting is young—an un-mastered version of my current script. But my brain is searching and inquisitive. I’m not sure why Steph wound up with the book, but there was a time when I passed out Oscar Wilde books like a communist would pass out propaganda and I likely forced it upon her.
Back then—over twenty years ago, more than half my current age—Oscar Wilde spoke to me in a way I was not accustomed to being spoken to, and brought about feelings that literature rarely provided. I indulged in Him, collected photos, quotes, and bought multiple used copies of his books. He became an unwitting spiritual guide of sorts. I carried the story of his tragic incarceration and subsequent death with me the way a god-fearing man would hold the image of Jesus’ crucifixion close to his heart. If they sold Oscar Wilde on a necklace, I’d have bought one, for sure.
Placing my hands on the cover of that book—while my girls squealed and unpacked the rest of the boxed treasures—was not far from the feeling of placing my hands on a body to massage. Flesh—living, breathing flesh. Cracking open the book brought with it not only the slight sigh that takes place in the inner ear during a good stretch, but also a swell of emotions. I flipped through the pages, feeling saved.
The article, What You Read Matters More Than You Might Think, in Psychology Today discusses the difference between “deep and light reading.” Deep reading is defined as reading that is slow, immersive, rich in sensory detail and emotional and moral complexity. It is distinctive from light reading, which is little more than the decoding of words. The author continues by saying deep reading is great exercise for the brain and has been shown to increase empathy, as well as inspiring reflection, analysis, and personal subtext to what is being read.
A passage from The Picture of Dorian Gray—”Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there is in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?”
Another passage (how can I resist?): “In this country, it is enough for a man to have distinction and brains for every common tongue too wag against him. And what sort of lives do these people, who pose as being moral, lead themselves? My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite.”
How I missed that man. And what a time for him to pay a visit.
3.
Last weekend, I was feeling particularly ill-at-ease. My speech had edges like so many sharp river rocks. Tears and sadness rotated through in unpredictable gusts.
On the particular day I refer to, a book called Ordinary Magic, Everyday Life As Spiritual Path all but did a swan dive from my bookshelf and landed at my feet. The cover-image was dated and sun-bleached. The font and spacing came directly from the early 90’s, which is when it was published. I have a vague memory of buying this book at Half-Priced Books in Columbus, just before I made my move out west, in 2002, eighteen years ago. It’s a collection of Buddhist essays that focus on sectioned-out, topics—creativity and community, for example. It did not take long to realize that the editor, John Welwood, steals the whole dang show. His intros to each chapter sparkle with the quiet wisdom of one who is not the headliner, but knows his own worthiness.
(As with Oscar Wilde, I could include countless quotable phrases, but a taste is all you need.) In his introduction to the creativity essays, Welwood said, “By being still and receptive, instead of busily trying to find solutions, we give our intelligence the time and space it needs to find an appropriate way to proceed.” I read that line and gently set the book on my lap to take pause and think to myself, Thank god.
Another account of being liberated by the right words.
The Unknowing. Yes, that is the landscape we all inhabit now. How do we work with such potent feelings of lack-of-control? A classic solution would be to distract the hell out of ourselves so the low hum of anxiety doesn’t seem as loud. Or, we could try to re-frame our reaction, teach the brain that there could be another approach.
Our lives are, in many ways, on hold as we await a vaccine to protect our collective physical health. But our mental health is not on hold. Our intellect is under non-stop media siege and our sanity begs to be nourished and protected now more than ever. An essential piece of that puzzle (the puzzle of avoiding going clinical insane, that is)—more so than what’s contained in a bottle or that can be purchased online with a credit card—may very well already live on our bookshelf.
John Welwood also said, “What is fresh and alive comes only from the unknown.” I’m pretty sure I’m going to have that phrase tattooed on my forearm in old-english script after this whole thing is over.
May 17, 2020
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liuran; 1 5 10 19
1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?
OH MAN liuran was originally a blue dragonborn cleric whose father was a mob boss and she healed his lackeys but for some reason i didnt stick with her?? and i was reading up on the different colored dragons cause cr was in conclave arc and i read that black dragons are supposedly the cruelest ones so i was like “so how would a black dragonborn feel about this and how would he struggle Not to be like that” and then i made him a monk to try and control those urges and also ‘cause Monks Are Cool
5. What creature would they like to have as a pet?
liuran’s not a pet person at All but i think he’d love to have a bird feeder and name all the birds that show up. maybe make a story in his head about the squirrels that try to steal the food from it too
10. How old is this character?
AH GEEZ I KNEW THE ANSWER TO THIS AND NOW I DONT REMEMBER SDJKFLGH he’s 25/26 in human years but dragonborns have different age systems so whatever the equivalent of that is LOL
19. What are their guilty pleasures?
everything liuran does is a guilty pleasure SJDKLFG BUT i think his guilty pleasure would be something that seems entirely too delicate for him like cross-stitching
EDIT: OH WAIT IM AN IDIOT his guilty pleasure is the lute!! he wasn’t allowed to play it when he was younger so he did it in secret without his father knowing to try and scare away prey ‘cause he felt bad for them
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1 Silver Button press for one of your feeders?
Octavian wasn't expecting a seemingly large slice of cake to be shoved into his mouth after years of living peacefully in an underground cavern with a magical lute he now did not have, the cake quickly added some pounds to his rather small frame making butt a big more larger. "Huh...food here's much note interesting now...I wouldn't mind using these"
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Bird Watching is a recreation anyone can enjoy at anytime of the year
rabbet W. BenjaminBird Watching is a diversion anyone can enjoy at anytime of the yearHobbies Articles | April 19, 2006Do you ever have a light when you have scratch to do ?, You know them times at your on the internet in part of chat room, fmovies for free you type ' I'm bored ! ', or your flipping completed the baby-sitter channels, and you s... Do you ever have a day when you have nobody to accomplish ?, You know them times meanwhile your on the information superhighway in any chat room, and you type ' I'm disinterested ! ', or your flipping completed the eye channels, and you claim to yourself or out loud ' 250 channels, and nothing good to watch ! ', yes, you experience what I am talking about. instantly you have something you can do on them so called boring days, go feathered creature watching.No body where you live you probably have birds of some kind, even tribe in modern York have central park and alternative places position they vessel go bird watching. There are troika things you should have when feathered creature watching, the particular are a pair of binoculars, a notebook, and a feathered creature guide. Binoculars can be purchased for under $60 at most Kmart or Walmart stores. Binoculars with a magnification of 10 x 50 are splendid for game watching. refusal think that a other powerful two of binoculars like 20 x 60 or 30 x 80 are better, this is not the case. tough binoculars are fine if you are into chief gazing, but they are horrible for bird watching. The greater powered binoculars need a tripod to use them without shaking, and smooth without a tripod, the powerful binoculars are most and vessel be bare heavy to carry around, the 10 x 50 ones are perfect for every occasion.A small notebook or journal can be purchased at most stores, don't get nothing costly just a small wound one will do fine. Now the last information is the most relevant item although it hit to bird watching. whenever you are truly rapid to wristwatch birds, you should know what group of game you are looking at when you spot a new one, so stay your regional book cache or review in the birding district of an online bookstore, such as amazon, at the edge of this article I have a website abode that acquire some of Amazons leading bird guides, videos, binoculars and more.Ok, so you have your binoculars, pad and pencil, and your bird guide, now lutes go foreign and get-up-and-go bird watching. I am sure you won't have to tour very distant to whit a feathered creature or two. I move lucky suitable to presently live available in the country, all I have to do is susceptible my postern and I will hear the sounds of birds. If I step outside my anterior door, I can often see sparrings or finches, in the spring point the courtyard always receive a span robins dance around, and crows soaring around the nearby woods, high atop I repeatedly see blockhead buzzards soaring against the blue sky. One generation I free my fore door and across the road in the dominant of a large timber a horned owl was sitting, it stayed there for in reverse 10 minutes, turning it's head repeatedly as it looked around.If you have any grassy, wooded or open areas with forest or bushes, you vessel usually bargain birds. separate of the best gear about bird watching is anyone bottle do it, even if your in a wheelchair, you vessel sit and watch birds. It's a great fun for anyone that is alone, or for the whole group to execute together. during you animation out, remember to revenue your feathered creature watching items with you, your binoculars, notebook and pencil, and bird guide. When you spot a bird stare in your binoculars further see all it's refinement in convenient detail, if you do not recognize the category of fowl your seeing, get out your game guide and look it up. during you understand the type of game you see, write descending in your notebook the following information; ' the name of the bird, the operation where it was spotted, the date, and generation '. affecting information in your notebook, helps you understand what types of birds commonplace your area, it further is cute neet living able to read posterior and look when you spotted a new or rare bird. If you have a yard, tree or square a bay you bottle attract birds by institute a simple feeder. game feeders are very inexpensive and they have producer that bottle hang on a sapling branch, or fence, or even bat to the outside of a window.Attracting different sort of fowl often lack different sort of fowl seed and other food. Hummingbirds are attracted to red, rose and apricot flowers, they especially alike trumpet trailing plant or alternative tubular-flowered plants, they are also actual attracted to hummingbird laborer filled with sugar water or cardinal sweetened kool-aid. Robins related mowed lawns, so in the hop and summer if you want to see robins, mow your grass, the birds move looking for bugs and earthworms that are other easily handy because you cut the grass length. Goldfinches fondness thistle seed, thistle is more expensive then greater common fowl seed, but you cannot beat it if you want to attract goldfinches. Blue Jays are large and frequently noisy, but if you want to bring them, put out a feeder full of black smear sunflower seeds. Cardinals are very tidy looking, there is scratch nicer tan looking out the fenestella in the winter, and seeing a bright maroon cardinal situated on a nearby wood branch or feeder. Cardinals are cognate Blue Jays, in that they both love a diet of black grease sunflower seeds. If you want to attract sparrows, a backpack of plain mixed fowl seed will do just fine. skilled is clone Software that is contrived just for ' feathered creature Watching '. The groupware is called: ' game Watcher qualified ', you can scan the details and load a trial version of it for free at this website address:http://www.rb59.com/bwproHere is a website address that has some of the best game Guides (Books), Videos, Binoculars and new birding material that fury sells:http://www.rb59.com/bwpro/bird-watching-information.htmlBy robot W. BenjaminCopyright 2006 You may distribute this thingamajig in your ezine, pamphlet or on your net site as long as it is reprinted in its sum and outdoors modification omitting for formatting needs or grammar corrections. Robert W. Benjamin acquire been in the spreadsheet business on the World Wide Web for by 5 years, and receive been fertile low-cost freeware for the past 25+ years. father first free software on the AMIGA and C64 computer systems in the late 1970's-80's.RB59 Software http://www.rb59.com/software
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Bird Watching is a recreation anyone can enjoy at anytime of the year
robot W. BenjaminBird Watching is a pleasure anyone bucket enjoy at anytime of the yearHobbies Articles | April 19, 2006Do you ever have a day when you have zero to complete ?, You know them times although your on the ARPANET in any chat room, and you type ' I'm bored ! ', or your flipping complete the TV channels, and you s... Do you ever have a light when you have nobody to end ?, You know them times although your on the internet in a bit chat room, and you type ' I'm tired ! ', or your flipping ended the box channels, and you say to yourself or out loud ' 250 channels, and zero good to watch ! ', yes, you experience what I am repeating about. directly you have something you can complete on them so labeled boring days, go bird watching.No individual where you live you probably have birds of some kind, even tribe in different York have central plaza and alternative places location they bucket go fowl watching. capable are trio things you should have when feathered creature watching, the above-mentioned are a pair of binoculars, a notebook, and a bird guide. Binoculars can be purchased for under $60 at largest Kmart or Walmart stores. Binoculars with a magnification of 10 x 50 are foolproof for feathered creature watching. injunction think that a other powerful two of binoculars like 20 x 60 or 30 x 80 are better, this is not the case. heavy binoculars are fine if you are into chief gazing, but they are horrible for bird watching. The above powered binoculars need a tripod to use them without shaking, and constant without a tripod, the powerful binoculars are most and can be very heavy to carry around, the 10 x 50 ones are perfect for every occasion.A small tablet or pad can be purchased at most stores, don't earn nothing expensive just a small coiled one will do fine. Now the last information is the most extensive item at it move to bird watching. assuming that you are truly rapid to watch birds, you should recognize what type of fowl you are looking at when you spot a new one, so stay your regional book reservoir or stare in the birding category of an online bookstore, such as amazon, at the end of this article I have a website home that receive some of Amazons best bird guides, videos, binoculars and more.Ok, so you have your binoculars, binder and pencil, and your bird guide, now lutes go foreign and force bird watching. I prevail sure you won't have to hike very piece to shot a bird or two. I move lucky adequate to currently live present in the country, all I have to end is wide my postern and I will pick up the sounds of birds. If I step farther my anterior door, I can generally see sparks or finches, in the spring turn the garden always include a team robins skip around, and crows express around the nearby woods, high upward I much see stooge buzzards lofty against the blue sky. One point I not closed my anterior door and free tv online the road in the preeminent of a large wood a horned owl was sitting, it stayed there for in reverse 10 minutes, turning it's head much as it looked around.If you have any grassy, wooded or open breadth with forest or bushes, you vessel usually jewel birds. solitary of the best stuff about fowl watching is anyone bucket do it, even if your in a wheelchair, you vessel sit and watch birds. It's a great enjoyment for everyone that is alone, or for the whole group to complete together. When you pep out, remember to take your bird watching information with you, your binoculars, notebook and pencil, and bird guide. When you spot a bird glimpse in your binoculars additionally see all it's style in convenient detail, if you execute not recognize the category of feathered creature your seeing, get out your feathered creature guide and look it up. at you understand the sort of feathered creature you see, write down in your notebook the following information; ' the name of the bird, the area where it was spotted, the date, and turn '. affecting information in your notebook, helps you understand what types of birds commonplace your area, it likewise is pretty neet presence able to read posterior and look when you spotted a new or rare bird. If you have a yard, forest or square a bay you bottle attract birds by plant a simple feeder. game feeders are very inexpensive and they have producer that bottle hang on a tree branch, or fence, or even bat to the outside of a window.Attracting different description of game often wish different types of game seed and other food. Hummingbirds are attracted to red, rose and orange flowers, they especially alike trumpet vines or alternative tubular-flowered plants, they are also bona fide attracted to hummingbird feeders filled with sugar drink or flaming sweetened kool-aid. Robins alike mowed lawns, so in the spring and vacation if you want to see robins, mow your grass, the birds hit looking for bugs and earthworms that are new easily reachable because you cut the grass length. Goldfinches emotion thistle seed, thistle is more lavish then better common bird seed, but you cannot beat it if you want to attract goldfinches. Blue Jays are full and at times noisy, but if you want to bring them, put out a producer full of black grease sunflower seeds. Cardinals are very neat looking, there is nothing nicer then looking out the bow in the winter, and seeing a bright glowing cardinal situated on a nearby wood branch or feeder. shawl are cognate Blue Jays, in that they both love a diet of black slick sunflower seeds. If you want to attract sparrows, a purse of transparent mixed feathered creature seed will do equitable fine. capable is brain Software that is finished just for ' fowl Watching '. The program is called: ' Bird Watcher efficient ', you can gather the details and download a balloon version of it for free at this website address:http://www.rb59.com/bwproHere is a website address that has a little of the best game Guides (Books), Videos, Binoculars and new birding equipment that bitch sells:http://www.rb59.com/bwpro/bird-watching-information.htmlBy rebut W. BenjaminCopyright 2006 You may broadcast this commodity in your ezine, pamphlet or on your screen site as long as it is reprinted in its gross and after modification save for formatting needs or grammar corrections. Robert W. Benjamin enjoy been in the program business on the cyberspace for by 5 years, and acquire been ready low-cost software for the past 25+ years. He first set free software on the AMIGA and C64 computer structure in the late 1970's-80's.RB59 Software http://www.rb59.com/software
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