#its almost like being able to do things safely and with less pain actually makes thrm easier to do. who would have thought
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Disorder Differences in Systemmates
Systemmates share the same brain, which often leads to the assumption that they're all affected the same by the brain itself. Its wiring, its abilities, and its disabilities. But symptom holders or those with intra-disorders are fairly common--at least in circles we run in--and they're not often talked about for fear of fakeclaiming or appearing ableist. We have headmates who are affected in all sorts of different ways by our disabilities. Some find things harder than others, while others actually find some tasks or symptoms easier to manage. It absolutely varies from headmate to headmate, which makes certain headmates better suited for fronting during certain times than others.
Merlin is more affected by our psychosis, particularly hallucinations, and xe tends to be more susceptible to paranoia. Mystery is a psychosis holder too, and has more positive symptoms like hallucinations than the rest of us, but is less affected negatively by it. It often hallucinates and falls into delusional thinking, but it's not really too bothered by it. So Mystery is a good choice for someone to front when we're having a psychotic episode. Sometimes, having Merlin cofront with Mystery makes it easier for Merlin to not be so susceptible to xyr symptoms.
I (Martin) have more obvious anxiety than the rest of us, and struggle much more in social situations. I'm much better at hyperfocusing on tasks, though. So I'm better suited for staying home and working on whatever the current project we have at the time, or keeping our to-do lists in check. Vince on the other hand is calm in most social situations that are more professional--so he's good for business meetings and such. In more casual conversation though, Vena and Merlin are much better at it and better suited to non-professional social groups.
Vince is an intra-NPD holder and also holds stronger symptoms of our BPD. He struggles immensely with percieved rejection, much more than the rest of us. But he also almost completely lacks empathy, which makes it much easier for him to be calm and logical in stressful situations. He finds it easier to help friends and those he cares about during stressful times because he's not weighed down by feeling their emotions--whereas the rest of us might break down from stress.
We talk a bit about mental disability differences in headmates more than those who differ physically. Somehow it seems more controvertial to mention that we have headmates that differ with physical symptoms while even in safe system spaces. It seems like most people (us somewhat included) mainly think of symptom holders as a mental disorder thing--a line of thinking we're trying to dispel. Headmates can have different disabilities and symptoms of all kinds, and it's not ableist or "harmful" to know that and speak about it. Headmates with different conditions to the body need to be recognised more.
Mike needed a cane in his memories and he absolutely needs our cane when he fronts more than the rest of us. He feels more at home and like himself having a cane by his side here, though, so it's good we already had one. I (Martin) need it more too--my joints are just more prone to pain. But our cane folds up nicely into our bag, so if we switch out in public, it's always with us just in case. Even if it's silly, we feel safer having a cane too--I mean, it's a metal pole. We're out as trans and clearly not your Regular Society Member, so it provides some feeling of safety to have.
Jayfeather was blind before, and since coming here he sure can see now, but he's much more light sensitive than the rest of us. The feeling of being able to see was nice at first, even if it was foreign, but sometimes he feels it's not worth the hassle. He needs to wear sunglasses when fronting because his eyes just end up hurting from even small amounts of light. Crowley is the same, except he wasn't blind in his memories--he just got used to always wearing sunglasses in his life to hide how his eyes looked, and needs them here now. They're both more prone to migraines due to this.
Merlin is more shaky on his feet than others who front often. His legs are digitigrade and in headspace he has his wings and tail to balance him there--but in the body, he doesn't have any of that. His legs are the wrong shape and he has no counterweight to his posture. Even with our cane, he's more prone to tripping than most.
Mystery was a godlike being that didn't need to eat human food, or any physical food at all. It often forgets that eating, sleeping and going to the bathroom are things the body needs to do, because it doesn't often feel the need to do them. That can be good if we're running low on food, or if we can't eat for a while such as before a medical procedure though, so it's useful in its own way. Mystery is also not used to using its hands for intricate things like tying shoelaces, as it's hands before we're longer, bigger, and mainly nonphysical. It didn't need to be intricate, so it's hard for it to do things others in here can.
There's so many more examples in our system. The thing is, there can be positives and negatives to any disorder, really--and headmates are no different with that. We don't necessarily assign headmates "roles" or "jobs" based on their symptoms or lack thereof, but for us to function better as a collective, people tend to gravitate toward doing certain things they know others can't. It's important for us to know how we differ with our disabilities, and work around them together as best we can.
Systemmates with different symptoms aren't uncommon, and they're not mocking disabled people, or lying for some benefit. I'd argue that for some systems with symptom holders or intra-disorder holders, it's increcibly important to know about how you differ and how to work together to be functional--whatever functional means for you.
#plural#pluralgang#actually plural#plurality#system#alterhuman#osddid#actually did#cdd inclus#pluralpunk#intra disorder#intra-disordered#symptom holder#disability#neurodivergent#madpunk#neuropunk#mad pride#terrorpunk#endo safe#pro endo#op#martin (he/it)#everything althu#althu experiences#everything plural#plural experiences#headmates#disabled althu
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I wonder what Smokescreen and Predaking have planned in the Ghost of Darkmount AU 👀
w e l l :333
after Smokescreen talked Predaking down from just going on a murderous rampage, they realized that this was something that was going to require almost foolproof planning because to ensure the Predacons survival they essentially needed to take out all of Decepticon High Command, something the Autobots have been trying and failing to do for millennia
technically they could've just rescued the other clones and gone into hiding on Earth. After all, Airachnid was able to safely do it with the Insecticons, and she had significantly more numbers. This was actually one of the first ideas Smokescreen threw around
Predaking of course was... well, pretty against it, to say the least, and even with his pre established respect for Smokescreen, he was still angry about it. The idea of having to live hidden like pests instead of proudly and comfortably as a group... yeah, in his eyes its completely out of the question
it takes a lot of debating and even some arguing, but they eventually manage to reach a middle ground:
First, as talked about a WAY long time ago, faking the Predacon's deaths with the Cons actual attempt to kill them. And as first steps go, it was a V E R Y stressful start that would not at all get any easier-
Second is actually taking care of the Predacons and "raising" them so to speak. Teaching them the basics of their situation, letting them form opinions and identities and learn how to transform and all. They alternate shifts whenever possible, and thanks to Smokescreen's previous hacking of the Groundbridge network, portals opening at random is an occurrence nobody really bats an eye. Smokescreen is of course the one who visits most often by simple virtue of being the less missed of the two, but Predaking does try to visit whenever he can
and like... quick side tangent, but I can't stop thinking about it. Predaking loving his kin and subjects more than life itself, being proud of them and wanting to give them a life deserving of them. He wants them to be safe, but also strong, and he will never allow them to be humiliated like he had been at Starscream's hands
but at the same time, Predaking only knowing Shockwave's disconnected and detached form of care as a prized experiment, and Megatron's approval but as one would approve of a hunting dog, and Starscream's punishments laced with flaming vitriol and poisonous insults. He doesn't know how to show genuine care or how to raise someone in a healthy way
All he knows is that you must be strong enough to intimidate and inflict pain, lest you be the one on the receiving end
and in the end, that's part of the reason Smokescreen is so weirdly fascinating to him. Because he uses deception and psychological manipulation, sticking to the shadows to accomplish his goals, and yet even though he's never seen his reputation is one of the most feared aboard the Nemesis right next to Megatron himself
He continually gives Predaking things he's never experienced before: Kindness. Companionship. Patience. Decency.
Predaking and Smokescreen butt heads and argue often about the care of the Predacons and the "right" way to teach them. Predaking teaches them combat, ruthlessness, but also to stand their ground and never bow their heads to anyone as though they were lesser. Smokescreen listens to their hopes and woes, offers comfort and advice and teaches them games and stories to pass the time
both of their ways are flawed, but that doesn't make either of them wrong, not completely. While Smokescreen may be teaching them how to live, Predaking, for all his problems, is teaching them how to survive this war
And then comes the third part of their plan: taking the Nemesis. Kill as much of high command as possible, but the most important goal was to take the warship, and it's databases, for their own
they'd planned to get the Autobots involved, after all it was only fair...
but uh. Then Ratchet gets captured to recreate the Omega Lock, and you could say things changed a bit from there
#god. GOD#hi yes if you cant tell im extremely ill about both of these fucked up little guys#ghost of darkmount#transformers#tranformers prime#tfp#tfp smokescreen#smokescreen#tfp predaking#predaking#decepticons#kd answers#mary moongood
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Slime HRT - 10 Months
So - the past few months have been interesting.
My arms and legs are now fully slime except for the bones, which are now mostly just floating around in the goo. I can push them around if I put my hand inside them, which is weird on a few levels, but also pretty neat. That has been a new experience, being able to stick things in and through my limbs, but i’ve also found it kinda useful - if I need to hold something, or keep something safe, I can just kinda put it in my arm, or leg and it’s there for when i need it… have gotten a few weird looks for that though, especially if I forget I’ve got like a pencil or something in my arm.
As I somewhat alluded to, the changes in my limbs weren’t all smooth sailing, in fact so far this period has been the most awkward. First of all, once more of my feet had turned to slime, I actually found I had some trouble with my balance - turns out not having a fully solid base on your body messes with your ability to stay upright - took me a while to readjust to the new squishier ends to my legs.
At the same time, I had to manage a decrease in fine dexterity in my hands. Part of this has to do with not quite being used to my fingers kinda sticking together, so sometimes I all but lose a finger in its neighbour. The other part is that turns out goo isn’t quite as easy to manipulate, and moves and squishes a lot more, making some finer motions harder to perform/perform as fluidly (ironically). While I can still use a keyboard, I definitely make a few more spelling errors, and I can’t game quite as smoothly, and it’s become almost impossible to type on my phone touchscreen, which has continued to become less responsive as I’ve turned more and more gooey, and combined with the loss of dexterity kinda leaves me screwed.
While both of these issues were a pain at first, I’ve learnt to adapt, and can, on the whole, still live and operate as normal (sans phone). Fortunately the slow nature of the transition gives me plenty of time to work out new ways of doing things.
The next major hurdle after that was the morning I woke up and, upon trying to stand up, had my legs just kind of pool beneath me - as in, I didn’t have legs anymore, I just had a pool of slime underneath my body. On one hand, I was very happy - I’d kinda been looking forward to trying out the ‘pooled legs’ thing I’d seen in art, on the other hand however (and in the moment the more poignant emotion) I was panicking. Turns out after 20 odd years of legs, suddenly not having them makes it pretty hard to move.
It took me a bit to calm down enough to feel out the slime enough to find control of it and work out moving around - it’s kind of like conveyor belt logic: you move some of the slime forward, which, if you do it right (took me a few tried to do so) pulls the rest of you behind it, and you just kind of move the slime like a circle to move yourself in the direction you want.
I actually spent about half a day managing with that, since a) it took me a bit to work that out and then I spent some time playing around with that then b) it took me even longer to work out how to get my legs to reform, and even when I did manage that, they were nowhere near stable and strong enough to hold me, so I spent a while doing that and somewhat relearning how to walk. The worst part is that for about a week/week and a half it became a morning routine, standing up, only to fall into a pool of my own slime, and it wasn’t just in the morning - while I was usually good once I got started in the morning, my legs weren’t quite as stable as they were beforehand, and so I’d sometimes end up pooled once again. Honestly, when I wasn’t in public, I usually just moved around in a pool until I needed legs, but a lot of the outside world isn’t built for people with puddle-’legs’. On that note, having to form legs took a bunch of effort to start with. I felt like I was trying to lift my whole upper body, which I guess in some respects I was, but fortunately I began to get the hang of it, both the lifting, and forming legs. Nowadays I can pretty much freely switch between pool and legs when I want, although I tend to keep to legs at the moment, as going from legs to pool has already lost me a few bones, and while I may not really use them any more, apparently they’re worth keeping so your body can convert them to more slime mass. Unfortunately I think I may have lost a couple small toe bones over the course of that week/week and a half.
The other issue with the pooling, and more slime content generally, is that I pick up all kinds of random crap off the floor. On one hand my floors have never been cleaner, on the other, I constantly have to pick shit out of myself, which while generally satisfying, is kinda a pain after a while.
The small blessing from this is I’ve actually now gained a bit of control over the shape of my slime parts. While at the moment I can really only do small things with my arms/hands (which condensing my fingers a little has helped with recovering some of my fine dexterity), and go between legs and pool with my lower half, I’m hoping that soon I’ll be able to do more exciting things. One thing I have managed is being able to extend/shorten my limbs a little, which is useful for reaching things, although I can’t go super far since I don’t have the mass, although I did work out a neat work around: I can send a little bit of slime from one arm to the other through my ‘blood’ vessels in my body, to transfer mass between them - it’s not super fast though, so it’s still pretty limited, but hey it’s something!
The other thing to report on this entry is that showering is funky now. Since my limbs are less solid now, the water kind of penetrates a little into them, and I get little bubbles of water within. Have found that this does wonders for my thirst, and when I shower I can usually drink a more normal amount, for a human, without having issues, which is nice. Have had to watch the water pressure, so as not to wash any of my limbs away, or blast my bones out of my body though, so pros and cons, as ever.
Oh! Additional notes for this update: I no longer have hair growing on my arms and legs - for obvious reasons - and not having to shave those has been nice, and I can’t wait for the same on my face - it’s cheaper than laser. I’ve also stopped taking my ‘normal’ hrt, since the recommended application spots are now slime, although I did have to shoot off an email about the non-gel parts of that since I forgot to ask about those originally, and apparently I can stop those too, so.
All in all these past four months have been… and experience. Fortunately I’m coping, although I am a little worried about what else I’m gonna have to learn to cope with over the coming months, but so far it’s all been worth it, so hopefully it’ll stick that way. See ya in the next one! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
First - Prev - Next
#slime hrt#slime girl#non-human hrt#species hrt#humanity replacement therapy#transgender#my writing#otherkin hrt#therian hrt
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Martin Meisner (Grimm) - AU Crossover - Chapter 3
youtube
“Hey Meisner, are you cooking tonight?”
When you placed down the groceries, you turned to nothing but silence.
That’s right.
Meisner is gone.
Dropping your keys on the counter, you run a hand through your hair. It’s only been about a month, but you’ve gotten so used to him being there.
Now the apartment just feels empty.
“Raise your hands to block.”
“I can't, I'm tiny. You’re like a giant. Even if I block it’ll hurt.”
“There’s a lot of things that are painful in life. Death is much more painful than a punch.”
“I’m not exactly trying to be a warrior! I’m not like you. I don’t go looking for trouble.”
You dropped onto the mat with a frown and Meisner slipped his gloves off.
“I just want you to be safe. Sooner or later I'm going to head back. You’re powerful. The next time you jump you might have to fight depending on the circumstances. You need to be able to do that.”
You know he’s just looking out for you, but fighting is not something that comes as easily to you. You’re even less ecstatic at the idea of him leaving. But you can’t really voice that.
Standing with a huff, you lift your arms. Meisner looks over, watching the way you clumsily try to mimic his previous stance.
“I-I’m ready.”
You would definitely get knocked down, but he felt proud. Lifting his fist, he moved forward.
“Give me your best shot.”
You still can’t believe he’d talked you into learning to fight. Thinking back, it's a bit humorous. Meisner was more or a boot camp sergeant than a roommate. You knew he just had your best interest at heart. He wanted you safe, protected.
He was right.
Every jump you made, there was a point where you were vulnerable. Being able to hold your own was a good skill to have. Especially since you can’t truly control your abilities. You were grateful. You just wish you had a chance to tell him properly.
~Portland~
“I can’t believe we actually did it. I just got word from Osaka. Black Claw is dead, everywhere.”
Trubel’s report earned a nod of approval from Meisner.
“Update the database.”
She moved to the computer to do just that.
Upon his return he was quick to rebuild what had been broken. It took a while, but with Black Claw disbanded in Portland, returning HW to its previous state of operation was much easier. It was also much easier to have a home nearby when he didn’t have to worry about Wesen operatives trying to kill him. The function of the organization for the time being was just to monitor.
Avoid any more horrible revolutions.
“So that woman, did you like her?”
Trubel’s question made him raise a brow.
She was smiling as she clicked on the computers.
“I’m just saying. You bought a house in Portland. If I didn’t know any better I would say you were making a place to settle down.”
He didn’t respond to the claim, because he couldn’t really say why he’d done it. The threat was gone. It just felt right to finally try to live. Although his life would never be normal, he wanted to at least see what that felt like. His time with you showed him that he did want the comfort of a home.
For as long as he could remember he was unattached. It was necessary considering what he was fighting for. He wasn’t sure what had really changed his mind. Maybe it was almost dying. That did tend to have an effect on perspective.
“She’s a good friend.”
He didn’t say anything more than that, and Trubel didn’t press. She just continued with her work.
~
“Oh, honey where did your handsome little boyfriend go? Did you break up?”
You shook your head at your old neighbor.
“No Ms. Cardel. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He was just a friend staying with me for a while. He went back home to his family.”
“He was such a sweet young man, I’m going to miss him. Very easy on the eyes as well.”
She winked at you and you laughed, nodding as you waved her goodbye. Stepping into your apartment, you closed the door behind you, giggling. Meisner had told you of his encounters with the older woman.
At first he thought she was a spy, so he kept a close eye. Then he realized that she was just a bit nosy and he’d found himself helping with groceries and opening the door for her. Despite his scary face, he was a pretty nice guy.
The second you were inside, your eyes moved to the chair. The red cloak hanging on the side of your couch had you rolling your eyes.
“Stephen! Stop breaking into my place!”
The golden ring opened and he stepped inside the room, closing it upon entry. His cloak moved to his shoulder immediately and your frown deepened.
“Can’t you just knock or appear like a normal sibling?”
“There’s nothing normal about either of us. Where is the bodyguard?”
He looked around and you just turned your back.
“Meisner went back.”
There was a sorrow in your tone that he caught.
“You care about him.”
“Of course I do, he’s my friend.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
You hate when he does that, tries to read you. He knew how hard it was for you. Although you made a lot of friends with your gifts, saying goodbye has always been hard for you. Taking a seat on the couch, you finally really look at him.
“Do you..do you ever blame me for what happened to them?”
He didn’t need clarification. It was always obvious what you were referring to.
“It wasn’t your fault. Neither of us knew how to control our powers back then.”
“Yeah, well yours don’t make you blast people into other universes."
“Regardless, they would be proud of you. You’re helping people. You’ve always helped people. That’s who you are.”
Stephen might have no sense of personal space, but he always seemed to know what to say.
“Thanks Dr. Strange.”
This time he frowned.
“Don’t call me that. Who even came up with that name. It’s insulting. I’m not strange.”
“Well, you do have strange powers.”
He didn’t look very impressed at your joke. He moved to your side, giving your shoulder a shove.
“You’ve been trying to find him, haven’t you?”
With a slow nod, you looked down at your hands.
“He told me once that I should figure out how to control it. I’ve never really tried before now. I keep trying to do it. Picture that shop to make the jump but then I get scared and just give up. I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m breaking a rule. I’ve been to dozens of places already. This should be a piece of cake.”
You hate that the only thing holding you back is your own fear.
Stephen reached out, pulling you into a side hug.
“When it’s time, you’ll figure it out.”
You nod, placing your head on his shoulder.
“The next time you break into my place I’m gonna drop kick you. Trust me, Meisner taught me how.”
Stephen decided to just nod in compliance. He didn’t want to take that chance.
After the little heart to heart, you felt a bit better.
The following night you’re seated on your bed, a pair of Meisner’s sweats and a t-shirt right before you. With your legs folded, you closed your eyes, trying to concentrate.
So far you haven't had much luck. You could feel him in a sense, but every attempt to reach out, you would pull back at the last minute. You needed to focus, tune in and hold on. It was the only way.
If you wanted to see him again, then you had to get rid of that fear.
Completely.
~
“I like the place.”
Trubel dropped on the couch kicking her feet up on the table with a grin. Meisner walked over with a tablet in one hand and his boots in the next.
“Any activity in the Netherlands?”
“Not as far as we know. Nick says Alexander has been cooperating with him. He’s rebuilding the Wesen council.”
Meisner nodded.
“We could use that to our advantage. Make sure Burkhardt keeps you in the loop about that.”
Trubel saluted.
“You got it boss.”
He took a seat by the table that was scattered with files. Trubel’s eyes just ran over the exterior. It was a two story house. Modest, casual. There weren’t a whole lot of family photos like what you would expect in any other home, but that wasn’t surprising. As far as she knew, all of his family was dead.
“You think you’ll ever see her again.”
He paused, but didn’t speak. The hope was one day you would just appear right in front of him, but even for him that seemed like a naive wish.
“I hope so.”
That’s all he could really say. Maybe Trubel realized it. How touchy the topic was. For the rest of the night, all other questions were strictly about progress in the organization. Something he was grateful for.
Trubel stuck around for a few more hours before she left. He couldn’t deny that he appreciated the company. It made the house feel less empty.
Hollow.
That’s a bit what he felt like when he climbed into bed.
Laying back, his eyes were trained on the ceiling.
“Do you have people back home? Family?”
He hesitated when you asked the question for obvious reasons. He wasn’t sure he could say family per se. HW was more like a unit that functioned for a purpose yet..Trubel, even Eve, to him, they were friends. People he wanted to protect.
“I do.”
You smiled at him when he said it.
“I’ll make sure you get back so you can see them again.”
You kept your promise. He was back with the only people that really meant anything to him. But he still felt a bit..empty. Seeing Adalind so happy with Burkhardt. Renard with his daughter, even Monroe and Rosalee. He couldn’t deny that he longed for it. That type of happiness. The kind that came with knowing there was someone there waiting for you. Someone that longed for his presence as more than just a soldier.
Closing his eyes, he exhaled. There was no use driving himself in circles thinking about it. Maybe sleep would provide him with more of those memories he shared with you. At least that would give him some piece of mind.
“OH SHIIIIIIIT!!”
The yell started him awake, and he flicked the light on, looking for the danger. He was sure that hadn’t just imagined that, but his room was empty. His eyes stayed focused on the ceiling, and when he saw the familiar star-shaped portal open, he barely had a chance to move before the body dropped right on top of him.
The glow disappeared just as quickly as it showed up and you both groaned at the harsh collision. Your body rolled right off the bed from the bounce and he straightened, looking down in surprise and slight pain.
You jumped upright, and for a second he thought he imagined it, but you were standing right there.
“(Y/N)...?”
He couldn’t believe it. You didn’t give him a chance to ask how you figured out the jump, you tackled him this time and he fell back onto the bed. You were holding on tightly, and when he heard the sobs, his hands lowered slowly, wrapping around your body.
“I missed you..”
He could hear your soft sniffles and he tightened his hold, this time laughing happily. He couldn’t recall ever being so happy to see someone, or laughing this loudly. He only knew that he was grateful.
#martin meisner#grimm#marvel#crossover#au#nick burkhardt#wesen#trust#meisnerxreader#friends#cute#Youtube
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Defective
Summary: Beheaded thinks Collector's gift to them might be defective. It's not, they just have a stronger sense of touch now.
[A/N] Part 3 of my Indirectly a Hero series.
~
Upon attaining a new living body, Beheaded had assumed the cold wouldn’t be nearly as much of an issue anymore. The body produced its own heat now after all. Meaning it should be warmer in general but also their clothing should hold that heat in. But no, the cold actually felt worse now. The bite of it was a like a million little needles pricking their skin that grew worse the longer they were out in it, especially in their extremities.
That wasn’t the only thing either. Injuries hurt more too. Stuff like kicking through a wooden door left them almost limping due to how much the wooden shards digging into their foot hurt when they walked on it. Shoes fixed that problem right up until they got blisters on their feet from wearing them too long, making walking painful. Nothing they couldn’t handle, they’d spent their whole remembered existence up until the time loop was brought to its halt getting sliced and diced by various monstrosities. But it was still far worse than it should’ve been, meaning serious injuries would likely be worse as well, which would them harder to bear and keep going with. Clearly this ‘gift’ Collector had given them was defective.
As a test they brought it to a safe place and pulled themself out of it. They could do so with ease, nothing tried force them in even upon sliding all the way out through the hole in the back of the head. So perhaps this wasn’t the catch for the gift; a trap to make them uncomfortable.
They crawled back into it and headed off to find Collector. Or less find him and more head to his lab and wait for him to come back. He was most often with people working up on cleaning up the mess left by the Malaise. Too many people in one place was just uncomfortable to be around so Beheaded would rather avoid such scenarios.
So they snuck into Collector’s lab through the rear window, found a comfy place to sit on one of the tables and settled down to wait. They were in luck, it was only a couple hours before the door opened and Collector strode in.
“I haven’t seen you in a few days,” he said as he closed the door behind him. “How’s your new body holding up?”
Beheaded hopped off the table and lifted their hands to sign as they approached. Through experimentation they’d found and figured out how to manipulate the mouth and throat muscles to make sounds but still weren’t sure how to make the specific sounds in the right order to create speech. So their old form of communication would continue to have to do. “It’s defective.”
Collector raised an eyebrow. “Is it? How so?”
Beheaded explained the problems. “Even the physical sensations that aren’t pain are more intense than they should be.”
“I see. That however, I don’t believe to be a defect. Your old body was dead and rotting, its nerves weren’t fully intact. So your accustomed to physical sensations being numbed and dulled. It’s why you were able to run around even after being gutted without being incapacitated by pain. Your new body is alive though and thus feels things more fully. Which by comparison, is likely quite intense.”
“So this is how everything feels to you?”
“I can’t say for sure but probably it’s fairly similar.”
Beheaded lifted their hands, intending to to say something about how it was no wonder he was a killjoy sometimes with how bad even small injuries hurt him but well, it indeed wasn’t only bad sensations that were stronger. The warmth of petting Mushroom Boi and Owl had been quite nice. The ribbon on Mushroom Boi’s head had had a memorizing feel to it as well, only his stepping away had gotten Beheaded to stop touching it. And, they hadn’t eaten yet – they didn’t need to – but if physical touch sensation were more intense than perhaps so would taste? If so he needed to try it before getting this fixed.
“If it’s too much, I can try to numb your senses,” Collector said. “I’ll need it though, probably with you in it at least occasionally to test.”
That’s what they’d come here for. But knowing this was how it was supposed to be for living beings changed some things. Having it be numbed might still ultimately be better but perhaps the good things feeling better would make it worth putting up with the bad things feelings worse. And experimenting in that regard would give them something to do other than sulk around the island. So…
“Maybe later. I have to test some stuff first.” Not waiting for a reply, they turned and went back through the window they’d come from.
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On Wednesday I turned 28
I actually loved being 27. I'll probably love being 28 too. I feel like this past year I got closer to my family, they started taking me more seriously and respecting my boundaries better. I also feel better at handling my anger lmao to be fair I've been taking magnesium and that has drastically reduced those moments of blind rage that would have caused me to act or do something irresponsible, not majorly BAD, just something with no critical thoughts behind it, just fury. I didn't have many of those moments, but I'm glad that they became even rarer. Not sure if it's the magnesium I should thank, but I'll keep taking it just to be safe.
I also really appreciate the vulnerability that has been subtly making its presence felt in my friendships. Sure, it's almost entirely a result of my friends going through dramatic changes and including me in the process of handling the feelings that those changes bring about, for which I am sooooo grateful. I'm grateful that they think of me as a person who is able to make them feel at ease, or who could help them figure things out, or deal with stuff easier. I try to build this kind of trust and comfort in literally every single one of my friendships and connections, and to be able to strengthen our bond during times of tension, or uncertainty, and lend a hand or a shoulder or encouraging words thanks to that trust is so profoundly fulfilling to me. I love being there for those who need me and I love knowing they see a safe haven in me during times when isolation is so tempting, I am glad they choose vulnerability over distance. I'm crying typing this because I'm now realizing just how many of my loved ones have gone through painful situations this past year. We are so blessed to have been able to work past all of them together, to the point where every crisis was easily forgotten. I really have no words to express how thankful I am, and how rich I feel.
Last year I was more physically active and more concerned with food, cooking, movement, stuff in that area. I feel like this year I focused more on reading and creating. I've been feeling more inspired, haven't danced as often as I did before, but I've been trying to not forget this habit because it's so good for me. I have also been experimenting less with cooking, not ZERO, just less than I used to. Food has become more like a means of keeping my energy levels up than anything else — ironically, this perception shift has only turned me into a bigger food appreciator. Reading has replaced physical food. I'm joking, but I've read more in the first 6 months of this year than I did all last year. I plan on keeping it up, but lately it's been hard because I feel more addicted to my screens. A break is much needed, sometimes I get stuck in freeze mode and forget I have free will. And I'm just stuck watching stuff or playing a video game but my heart's not in it.
Anyway, I only started typing this post to remember what I did on my birthday. I worked until noon, then I showered and went to meet my bf and our friend at the mall. My bf left his horrible supermarket job and started a new one at the mall where our friend works too (and he trained him). We bought some snacks and ate them, went to his place, he gave me a sweet gift, we had sex, and then ate some cake. Even though it poured outside I had a beautiful day. My best friend also made a HTML web page with a cute message and gifs specifically for my birthday 😭 it's SO cool!! My manager also texted me about a job opportunity for which I had a phone call with the manager and scheduled an interview for the next day, Thursday (yesterday). I was so excited for it because it was literally ideal, everything about it was perfect. Unfortunately I got rejected yesterday, but what frustrated me the most was the reasoning he gave for my rejection. He basically put some words in my mouth and misinterpreted something I said about another job. I failed the soulless corporate mind games this time, I'm gonna have to be a better performing little monkey next time 🤪 I fucking hate the corporate environment and am not a good match for it at all, but it sucks that there are literally NO other opportunities if you don't want to work at the mall. We live in a circle of hell of which we've lost count at this point. Anyway, I was very hurt but my manager comforted me about it and told me I don't have to accept some shitty job offer just because I got rejected from the one I wanted. Which lifted many rocks off of my back. I'm blessed and I'm staying moderately optimistic.
My boyfriend went to stay with his parents for the weekend, and I have no plans so I get to rest and focus on reading and crafting. I haven't had a solo weekend in a while and I'm excited for it. Today after work I'm gonna go grocery shopping and get myself some nice and nourishing food. I'm craving smoked fish, so I'll probably buy some and mix it with the veggie cous cous I've been planning to cook for WEEKS now.
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Hi my fellow human beings,
TW: eating disorder behaviors, anxiety about eating in front of others, mention of specific food
Welcome to my novel, my apologies for writing so much.
Today has been a good day so far we are still in the hotel but I think I am finally just starting to feel a little less stressed and grateful for the fact that I get to spend this time engaging in multiple forms of self-care that prior to the mini vacation that I had forgotten how happy they made me feel. The first one that I have been really enjoying is how it is nice to be outside of my room in the sunlight. Being able to journal, listen to music and drink my coffee (decaf because my cardiologist won’t let me have actual coffee) out in the hotel sitting area made me so happy. My past therapist really focused on teaching me that even simple things like standing out in the sun will help me feel more grounded and more at peace. I have embraced that since we have been here and it feels comforting. It is amazing how simple self-care can be, it does not always have to be baths with bath bombs or face masks. Another thing that also made me feel so happy today was that my mom and I went to a place we really enjoy hiking. Due to an old compression fracture in my spine hiking recently has been difficult for me. Usually where we hike has cement paths but the place we went to the paths are made out of dirt with an almost like sand feeling and I experienced no pain in my spine which was amazing and made me feel so happy. I also really enjoyed it because I was able to be mindful of my body in a positive way instead of judging it for not being able to go farther. Lastly another form of self-care that I get to engage in today is that my chosen family is having a movie night that we do each week and so tonight I get to spend time with my sponsor, her sister, and a couple of family friends. I love spending time with my sponsor, her sister and one particular family friend because I feel safe around them but the other people who are not part of the chosen family I don’t necessarily feeling unsafe my eating disorder just gets a little loud because I feel self conscious of eating in front of them because I don’t know them as much. So when my sponsor picks me up I am going to talk to her about how I am feeling anxious about eating in front of the other guests especially because due to a medication I am on that I have to take to manage my diabetes I get full really quickly and often feel sick to my stomach after meals. Its tough but I know I have to push through to stay healthy instead of letting my eating disorder take advantage of the side effect of appetite suppressant. To be 100% honest I had a slip up on Monday where I did engage in restriction so now I have to text my sponsor after every meal to tell her that I was able to eat an appropriate amount. Tonight though I am feeling excited because she is taking me to get donuts after the movie because there is a specific place that makes fresh hot blueberry donuts at night and she knows blueberry donuts are my favorite so we might go there tonight and surprise my mom with a donut when my sponsor brings me back to the hotel
#meth addiction recovery#traumatic brain injury#one day at a time#auditory hallucinations#ed recovery#complex ptsd#we do recover#narcotics anonymous#recovery support#welcome to my ted talk#my journal
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gotta say one of the worst parts about a progressively worsening disability is that there's seemingly a pretty high chance that the people around you will focus 100% on the idea of you recovering and refuse to do anything to accommodate you that could be seen as "giving up". i am so tired
#my mom being like 'if you have something to help you walk you wont try to walk any more' girl the not walking is what im already doing 💀#its almost like being able to do things safely and with less pain actually makes thrm easier to do. who would have thought#this is mostly about me fantasizing about having a wheelchair so i can go . anywhere that requires more than 15 minutes of standing time#pbbbbt#patch me through to palaven command
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[“… on the whole survivors crave precisely the things that have been demonstrated to alleviate their pain and support their well-being. These things, it turns out, are also consistent with the interests of justice and safety.
To begin the conversation about appropriate responses to violence, survivors first want validation that what happened to them is wrong. They want their pain taken seriously, and they do not want to be blamed or judged for what happened to them. They deserve this validation no matter who they are, what they did, or where they were when they were hurt. They need it no matter what our societal biases are about “people like them,” no matter what their criminal record may be, no matter whether they reported the crime to the police or didn’t. This validation matters in part because it reaffirms exactly what has been compromised when someone has been hurt: the belief that they live in a world that rejects violence and in which they should be able to be safe. It is easier to come through a terrible aberrant experience and be held in a society that recognizes its impact than to experience violence as an expression of the society’s norms, values, and expectations. In clearly, directly, and repeatedly affirming that what a survivor sustained is wrong, we stake a claim for a world in which what people endured should not have happened in the first place, and we walk with them in the process of re-creating and returning to (or creating for the first time) that world.
Once we have established our recognition that what happened to them is wrong, survivors want answers. Information contributes substantially to what people in the trauma recovery field describe as the formation of a “coherent narrative”—a story about what happened and why that the survivor can believe, make sense of, find some meaning in, and live with. So, for example, for survivors who before the crime believed that bad things do not happen to good people, there are two primary ways within that narrative for them to tell the story of what happened: either (a) that they are actually a bad person and therefore less deserving of safety, of good things, even of love; or (b) that their goodness, the way they live, their righteous behavior, their attempts to be consistently caring and ethical and kind do not matter and will not keep them safe. Both of those stories are far worse than the one they believed before the crime. In coming through the traumatic experience, the survivor who is telling this story will have to grieve the worldview they once held—one that made them feel whole and made it possible to expect at least some real measure of safety—and will have to form a new worldview that is workable and includes the reality of what has happened to them. That new narrative may be as simple (and as profound) as “Even terrible things are survivable with love,” or “I am more resilient than I ever knew,” or “Hurt people hurt people,” or countless other ways survivors make sense of and integrate their pain. These stories also help survivors accomplish a core feat of trauma healing: to arrange the story into their memory so they no longer experience it as eternal and ongoing.
But these new narratives are hard to build on the basis of mystery and doubt, so the more information a survivor has about what happened and why, the more thoroughly and quickly they are positioned to heal. There is almost never anyone who knows more about what happened to a survivor and why than the person who caused them harm. Survivors who want answers to their questions therefore need and deserve to be able to ask these questions and get those answers: Why did you do it? Why did you choose me? What, if anything, could I have done to stop you? Did you think I did something to you? Did you think I was someone else? Was that a real gun? Were you really prepared to shoot me? Did you feel bad at the time? Do you feel bad now? What would you have done if I had fought back? What happened to you? Did you think you could get away with this? People are built to heal, and when we have information, we are profoundly capable of putting it into the service of our healing. The problem is that survivors rarely have access to such information because every response our systems have created to manage their relationship with the person who hurt them is designed to keep them separate rather than to help them come together productively.”]
danielle sered, from until we reckon: violence, mass incarceration, and a road to repair, 2019
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okay first actual post here we go
Some Baki characters when they catch a cold and you offer to take care of them
Baki
• He insists you don't take care of him. He doesn't wanna seem like a burden on you or possibly get you sick too.
• If you care for him regardless its such a new feeling for him. For almost his whole life he was forced to care for himself all alone but to actually have someone there to aid him back to health makes him feel warm inside.
• He'll probably just do a lot a sleeping all day. He seems like the type to just sleep in his futon until hes all better. He might wanna hold onto you like a body pillow.
• He'd want you to make him from homemade food and give it to him in bed like he would LOVE that. He'd ask for seconds too. He's a bit gluttonous, for your cooking especially.
Jack
• This guy does NOT catch colds. It's something that barely ever happens so when he does catch a one it's kind of a shocker.
• He handles the tiredness and pain like a champ, since he's definitely been through exponentially worse than just a little cold. He'll barely act any different. He'll most likely just be a little woozy and tired, but nothing that makes him any less powerful.
• If you figure out some miraculous way to have him stay home to take care of him, he may be a little irritated at first. He thinks it's useless to just stay in bed all day doing nothing especially when he knows that the cold doesn't affect his strength or performance whatsoever. He wants to go train as soon as possible.
• You'll have to cook him bunches of homemade food (which he probably very much enjoys) to satiate that huge appetite he has. You'll be in the kitchen a lot that day.
• Showing your genuine concern for him makes him feel really strange inside. Like his brother, he's always had to take care of himself and deal with his suffering all alone. But with you there helping and taking care of him, he can't help but feel just a little joyful about it deep down.
• In the long run though, he'll be very low key thankful he stayed home with you. He pushes away that attachment to you as much as he can but he very slightly realizes that he really does love being taken care of by you and hanging out with you. He wont be able to get your face out of his mind when he starts training again.
Kozue
• I feel like she'll be one of the only ones to take it easy when she knows shes sick.
• She'll be so weak and tired she'll wanna do nothing but lay in bed all day
• She loves when you take care of her and do sweet little things to make her feel better. It makes her so happy. She'll wanna kiss and hold you but she doesn't wanna get you sick too.
• I like to think shes a little more emotional and sensitive when she catches a cold, so she might be crying randomly in which she will be in need of some very cautious hugs.
• She'll probably binge watch anime all day and she'd love it if you'd watch some with her.
• I just imagine her with a wet towel on her head and a tub of ice cream watching Sailor Moon or Madoka Magica on her TV while just snuggled up in her sheets
• I see her in a super cute pair of pajamas too probably hello kitty print shorts and an oversized t shirt ohhhh my GAWD shes so cute
Katsumi
• You'll know he's sick immediately just by the way he looks and the way he's slugging around, but he'll say he can make it through it and it'll sweat out later at the dojo (it wont)
• Even if you push him to stay home, he'll be completely sure with you he's fine and can make it through the day as normal. He appreciates how much you want to help him though
• His students at the dojo will see how sick he looks and how hes kind of weak and under performing. They'll usher him to go home and get some rest, kind of forcing him out of his own dojo (they all really care for him 🙁) One of his students would probably help him get home safely too
• When hes sick he'll most likely be a little more touchier and kind of out of it. He'll try to pull you in and hug you with a stupid smile on his face. He'll be acting really silly most of the time.
• He gets really bored just sitting in bed all day. He wants so badly to just go teach or train but all he can do is sit in bed until he gets better. He'll get a little needy for your attention and will try to kiss or hug you a lot but you'll have to remind him you're not trying to get sick too.
• He'd think its sooo cute if you brought him some homemade food in bed. He'd probably tear up a bit like a doofus and smooch you out of happiness. Wont be too late till your sick as well.
Retsu
• He'll try to ignore it at first and train as usual, but eventually he'll know that its best if he takes a little bit of time off to get back to 100%
• He already knows how to care for himself quite well actually, he doesn't get sick often but he knows exactly what to do to get better as soon as possible (how to treat himself, what foods to eat, etc etc
• He'll probably sneak in some training while he's recovering though
• Colds don't particularly have him acting very different, but he'd definitely be a little tired and his words might slur just a bit. He feels like the type who catches a cold and sneezes all the time 😭
• He says you don't have to help him and he can care for himself, not wanting to burden you. But if you persist, he'll let you care for him. He'll be constantly thanking you for everything you do too.
• You do everything you possibly can for him, no matter how many times he says its not needed or he can do it by himself, you're always there to do something for him. He actually really likes it when you make food and bring it to him. He adores your cooking.
• He does get quite happy when you care for him like that though. It makes him feel a lot of joy knowing there's someone there to love and care for him. He never been cared for like that before.
• After everything he'll show a ton of appreciation towards you and how you nursed him back to health. If you ever happen to get sick he'll treat you just as well if not even better.
Katou
• He despises being sick, it just slows him down from all the crazy shit he wants to do and it puts him in a really bad mood.
• He'll probably try to ignore it and go on as usual unless you force him to stay home (which clearly wont be an easy task)
• If he decides to just take a sick day off, he doesn't want you helping him. He thinks its weak having to have another person care for him other then himself. Mind you, he'll already be in a shitty mood so try to care for him with upmost caution. He's very violent.
• I can see him attempting to do things by himself, angrily telling you that he's got it, then tripping or stumbling while getting up 😭
• If you persist enough, he'll eventually just give in and let you care for him. He'll be so intense and pissed though. But as time progresses he gets low key kinda happy having someone genuinely cares about him and his well-being. Just like most everyone on this list (strangely), the feeling of someone caring for him is new and special. He really wants you to take care of him forever. He wants that love and attention he hasn't had for so long. It'd be funny if he genuinely pretended to be sick even after his cold passes just so you can care for him more.
• He'll probably try to fuck with you and tease you for being like his little nurse, making him feel better and stuff but if you tease him back he'll just get kinda cranky again all like "Tch." little bitch i want to DO HIM sorry y'all i got a little crazy there
• These homosexual thoughts are taking over my life
Hector
• Assassins like him can't really take a day off for a puny little cold so even if he does realize he's sick, he'll go out anyway.
• He wont act very different, he'll probably just be a little weaker and tired, but he'll work around all of it as the day goes on. He wont let a little cold get in his way. In fact, it doesn't really slow him down much at all.
• If you force him to stay home and you take care of him, it feels all so different to him. It's bizarre that someone else is caring for HIM of all people in the world. He'll wonder, why him? He knows he's just a cold assassin killing for a living who does nothing but spill the blood of others, he knows this very well. So he genuinely wonders why it's him another human being cares about so deeply. He's very confused but very very deep inside, he's glad. He doesn't know he's glad but he truly is deep down.
• He'd eat the shit out of your cooking too. Your cooking makes him feel real warm and fuzzy inside so he'll probably eat a lot of what you make.
• He'll be quieter than usual just enjoying the silence with you. At the end of the day though, he'll thank you for everything. He'll blush and look off to side while saying it.
#baki the grappler#baki headcanons#baki hanma#katsumi orochi#katou kiyosumi#hector doyle#retsu kaioh#jack hanma#kozue matsumoto#anime#manga#baki dou#baki x reader#baki the grappler x reader#i think its goofy when tumblr people write whole sentences in the tags i think ill do that now too
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incubator idea:
lydia decides to help her sister and brother in law jack out in a big way, a huge favor that's nine plus months in the making. a baby because they couldn't have one on their own. at some point in time she runs into trevor at a function. after realizing were they know each other from ... sparks more or less fly. trevor notices lydia is acting differently, almost as tho she's. she would have told him if something was going on, right?
possible insert #1:
"you guys wouldn't mind if i date anyone?" lydia bit the bottom of her lip, looking back and forth between the two expectant parents. "i may have met someone before we started this process."
"you met someone?" jack's jaw dropped and eyes went wide. cece hit her husbands chest with the back of her hand at her husband's response.
sure it may not have been the greatest of timings on her part. but you can't help when you meet the certain person. or rather that person re-enters your life.
"its fine lyds. as long as they're okay with the circumstances and what your doing for us." that was something lydia had yet to do. it actually scared her to think of his reaction.
"do we know him?" jack questioned, he wanted to meet this person and if he already knew him all the better. by the way lydia was looking down at her hands in her lap it was a big fat yes.
who was it. he couldn't have been either of jack's brothers, they were both happily in relationships of their own. it could be any one of his friends. or maybe an enemy?
"does he play hockey?" his eyes narrowed, his brain going into overdrive trying to think of anyone he knew was not committed to a significant other. a few names came to mind, one in particular.
"jack. stop." cece stopped jack before he could question lydia more. he just wanted to make sure she was safe and the precious cargo she was carrying would make it to the deadline.
possible insert #2:
"what's going on with you?" trevor let go of her frizzy golden hair. this was not the first time this week he had caught her running to the bathroom.
"nothing. everything is just fine trev." using her fingers Lydia wiped away any remnants of her snack that had just found it way back to the outside world.
she didn't know how much longer she could keep the ruse of nothing is wrong with me. because the longer she went into the lie, the harder it was going to be telling trevor the truth.
"that's bullshit."
"im having a baby." she threw her head in hands. who said ripping the bandaid off was easy, because it hurt like hell. and she didn't want to lose him.
"what?" trevor's ears couldn't quite register the incoherent mumbles. she needed to speak up if he was ever going to find out what she was saying.
"im pregnant." trevor never moved so fast to get away from her, standing up to lean against the bathroom sink. so many terrible thoughts were running through his mind.
"is it jack's? are you guys?" he had to refrain himself from saying some of those harsh things. was she cheating? was jack cheating?
"yes and no." lydia could see by the look on his he was confused by her reply. she explained further how her sister and jack weren't able to have children and they asked her to be their surrogate.
"im just an incubator."
possible insert #3:
"why are you still here trevor?" lydia rubbed over the bump. she could feel another contraction starting.
"this is not a choice." trevor really didn't want to be there, still being upset with her over the events from months before he was doing this as a favor, since he may have been with lydia when she initially went into labor.
"you can leave at any time." she ground her teeth together, the intense pain sweeping over her.
"i promised jack i would be here since they're still in the air because you refused to go back to new jersey when you were supposed to." he bit at the peeling skin on his bottom lip, watching something on his phone.
trevor looked up when there was some snarky response from her. he got up, and offered his hand for her to squeeze. "hey hey. breathe. breathe." any thought of anger he had towards her was instantly washed away when he saw the pain in her face. he still loved her. he would always love her.
please read:
i have yet to decide if it will be an oc or a reader insert type thing. for the sake of garnering thoughts i chose an oc. i hope you guys enjoy this idea, cuz i kinda like it.
please please please tell me what you guys think of this idea. also please note that this is just an idea, and based off if people like the idea i will write more of story around it.
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Hi everyone,
I found another article about ADHD burnout from WebMD. This will be another long excerpt, so I apologize:
ADHD Burnout
What Is Burnout?
Burnout can affect your home, work, and social life, says David Goodman, MD, assistant professor, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, director of the Adult Attention Deficit Disorder Center of Maryland, and an expert with CHADD (Children and Adults with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder).
Goodman describes burnout this way:
You no longer take interest or pleasure in your normal activities.
You see allies (like co-workers) as enemies who are burdening you with more and more work.
You withdraw because you believe it’s impossible to get things done.
Why Can ADHD Make Burnout Worse?
The symptoms of ADHD – like not being organized, trouble paying attention, and poor time management – add to burnout.
ADHD burnout is a specific kind of burnout, says Amber Meeks, who has ADHD and is a mental health advocate from Murfreesboro, TN. Part of the problem is that “people with ADHD work harder to do the things most people do with little effort.”
Imagine yourself on an interactive exercise bicycle, Goodman says. You pedal faster and faster to try to keep up with others, your heart rate hits its peak and you can’t pedal any harder. But, even your best isn’t good enough and you fall behind the standard of others.
How Do You Know You're Burned Out?
Look for these ADHD burnout symptoms:
Lack of motivation:
“If you like working out 5 days a week, you’re probably not going to be doing that. Or, if you enjoy playing with your kids you’ll do less of that,” Goodman says.
Exhaustion
“You feel tired all the time no matter how much rest you get,” Meeks says.
Poor Performance
You may not be able to focus on the work at hand. “It may feel impossible to do anything, even when it’s really important,” Meeks says.
Pain
Stress also can trigger things like stomachaches and headaches.
Irritability
You snap at people. You yell at the kids because they spilled milk on the floor. Or you get mad at your spouse because they forgot something at the grocery store.
Troubled Emotions
You withdraw or can’t smile at people, Goodman says. “I tend to get weepy and sad when I’m burned out,” Meeks says.
Negativity or Pessimism
It can feel almost impossible to be positive about anything, Meeks says. This is especially true in the areas that are causing your burnout – whether it’s school, work, or home life.
How Do You Break the Burnout Cycle and Recover?
The first step is recognizing and accepting that you are burned out. “If your friends and loved ones say you aren’t doing well, don’t take it as a criticism,” Goodman says. Educate yourself about burnout and then get some help from a mental health professional.
Here’s what else you can do:
Know your limits
Some people think they can pile it all on their plate and carry it even though it’s dripping off the plate, Goodman says. You need to face the fact that your expectations sometimes go beyond what you can actually do. This is where therapy can help you see that you need to balance expectations with reality.
Learn to prioritize
“You won’t be able to juggle 12 balls at once,” Goodman says. You need to pick six that you can juggle well and the other six need to be put to the side until you have more time for them. Setting priorities is difficult for people with ADHD. “It’s either I need to do it now or if it’s not due yesterday it doesn’t need to be done until tomorrow. The problem is something comes up tomorrow that’s urgent and that’s how things mount up.”
Just say “no.”
People with ADHD often are people pleasers, have a hard time saying no, and overcommit themselves, Meeks says. “Practice saying no and not feeling guilty about it. The people in our lives should be understanding of the need to keep ourselves safe and healthy,” she adds.
Get some rest
Don’t feel guilty about taking a breather. People with ADHD spend their whole lives being told that they aren’t trying hard enough. As a result, they often push themselves as hard as possible, Meeks says. “Resting feels ‘lazy,’ a word that has been used against us like a weapon for most of our lives.”
If it’s broken, fix it
If your ADHD symptoms seem out of control, talk to your doctor. You may need to add or change medication or learn better organization and time-management skills. This can help you get through your days with fewer stumbling blocks and more confidence.
The full article will be linked down below as always. I hope many of you found this helpful and educational.
#adhd#adhd post#adhd burnout#what is adhd burnout#sings of adhd burnout#adhd burnout recovery#mental health#source: WebMD#feel free to share/reblog#tw bright colors#tw eye strain
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Hi there! Can i request xiao, childe,zhongli where reader gets injured bad one time that they go into like a comatose or something? And at the end they wake up, thank you!! 🤗
Hi bestie! And ask and ye shall sufficiently be fed. I kept rambling on these so I hope you don’t mind <3
Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Childe, Zhongli x reader
Warning(s); hurt/comfort, cursing, slight wound description
Keep reading under the cut!
Xiao
You didn’t actually plan to take on the Oceanid but you were in the area and you knew a friend needed a cleansing heart or two so why not?
The why not is the fact that the dumb water birds were ripping the shit out of you
Sufficiently happy that the Oceanid has given you a lesson enough, they disappear, leaving you pretty much in a heaped, shivering, bloody pile.
The yaksha hears his name being spoken with such a level of hurt, Xiao is moving before you’re able to mutter his name a second time
Despite his quick speeds and quicker panic, he hears your voice slowly lose breath. And as much as he doesn’t want to he has started preparing himself for the worst.
Maybe it’s his fault for loving a fleeting mortal?
When he reaches you, you’re unconscious. But breathing. Laboured, likely due to some broken ribs, but breathing none the less. A less panicked and worried Xiao would chastise him for holding onto something that could disappear.
Xiao isn’t going to let you die, not on his hands.
He takes your limp body back to the Wangshu Inn and within the hour there’s 3 doctors all bandaging your body and making sure your stable
Comatose isn’t a word that Xiao has much experience with. But to him it manifests into the worst weeks of his life
Where he isn’t sat beside you, he’s pacing in your room. And when he isn’t doing that he’s throwing himself so deep in slaying demons and once the supply of demons ran dry he started clearing out random hilichurl camps
He knows that things are starting to get better when you start muttering random things in your sleep, and reacting to whatever books Xiao reads to you
Nobody at the Inn says anything outwardly about how unusually soft Xiao is, but everyone’s notices. If you were awake Xiao could imagine you teasing him about it and giving him a kiss
Four weeks almost to the day you wake up. Xiao is sat in his normal place beside you, book in his hand reading to you
“I like that book, its my favourite” you tell the yaksha who hasn’t noticed your waking. Your voice struggles to make words, like when you talk first thing in the morning.
Xiao jumps a little at your voice, he was so engrossed in the book and barely noticed your gaze.
Grinning is an understatement, Xiao smiles so wide and out of character that you almost jest about Xiao being a doppelganger
But the moment he hugs you, careful of your bindings, the jest fizzles away
“I almost lost you” he tells you his face sufficiently buried in your neck to try and hide the growing tears that he’s been pushing back through the weeks
“You can’t get rid of me that easily cutie” you reassure the yaksha as you embrace him as tight as your bandaged body can
-
Childe
The two of you love to expend your energy with random friendly fights be it wrestling around the house or finding the highest plains and having a great all out battle. You both find its a great way to release stress too
“I was thinking about eating out for dinner” you tell Childe as you parry his arrow
“That sounds like an idea. Loser pays” Childe responds with a grin
The fight is great, and dare you say it you’re winning
Until, by no joke, the biggest gust of wind pushes you off of the cliff and sends you flying
It would be funny if you couldn’t feel your bones breaking as you fall
Childe dives off the cliff the as soon as he can attempting to catch you
He does. But he’s a little too late to catch you conscious. You feel like a limp bag of potatoes. Your heartbeat being the only thing that’s currently grounding him and keeping him from committing various crimes
He doesn’t have the time to overthink until you’re safe and laying in your shared room
The three days that you’re unconscious Childe spends almost every waking moment sat on a chair beside your bed, laying on the bed beside you and actively avoiding as much work as he physically can. Even to the point a fatui agent comes to the house and lectures him about how he mustn’t keep avoiding his obligations.
He leaves for half a day on the third day and sits beside you the moment he gets back. He’s lazily telling you about his boring half day of work after he finishes he drops his head onto the bead
“I guess I’ll have to buy dinner though” you tell Childe your hand petting his hair
You’ve never seen Childe sit up so fast and bury his head into your chest where you continue to pet his hair
“Though you might have to go and get it, my bones hurt” you jest
“You fell off a fucking cliff [name] I’m sure your bones do more than hurt” he smiles kissing your nose
You smile at the man and embrace him again “I’m sure you caught me though”
“Without hesitation” he grins, Childes worry's and the days before overthinking flutter away for the time being
-
Zhongli
Being the adventurer spirit that you are going to the reaches of Liyue and you’ve made it your personal goal of exploring every crevice of the country
On your way back to the Harbour after a month and a half being away. Though on the final stretch of your journey a mitachurl decided that you were a personal punching bag and threw you across the road
Though in much pain from the fall you some how managed to make it back home and into the arms of your spouse
“I’ve got a present fo-” you pass out mid sentence, obviously your adrenaline from the mitachurl had finally ran out
Zhongli takes your sudden excess of deadweight and quickly lays you down onto your shared bed and checks you for any wounds
He quickly finds a large bruise from the mitachurl earlier. Zhongli changes you into some comfortable clothing while you’re already half undressed under his concerned gaze
Despite his quick thinking and generally unfazed expression the archon feels a unsettling pit at the bottom of his stomach
Baizhu is inside the house within the half hour and within the hour he has a diagnosis. A coma with no end date.
Being acquainted with comas but thanks to his previous lifetimes Zhongli has never been so close to someone with such an ailment
Another month and a half Zhongli finds himself away from his spouse. Although trying to keep his schedule as consistent as possible his morning walks are changed to sitting at the bedside and dinner time was often spent sat to the table that was in the bedroom, but now moved closer to your bedside
Although very used to being alone for extended periods of time thanks for your love of exploration, he has never felt so far away from you despite you being so close to him
When you awoke it was actually close to midnight. Your brain takes a few moments to catch up with the world. You take into account that you’re in bed, and notably, your spouse was not
You feel the distinct pain of the hit you had taken, although you note that it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did when you came home
You sit on the edge of your bed and stand, a little wobbly at first, and you move about your home looking for your absent spouse
That’s until you find him asleep in the spare bedroom. Why is he there? You don’t remember having an explosive argument or kicking out of bed.
You enter the room and touch your spouses arm and you call his name. He wakes with a start almost surprised
“You’re awake” he informs you which causes you to chuckle at him
“You’re going to have to catch me up my love” you stroke his hair after he sits up in bed and urges you to sit atop his lap
“In the morning my dear, just for a moment let me be in your presence”
“Anything for you my love” you smile at him before pausing “Though I would love something to eat”
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#xiao x reader#genshin impact xiao#xiao#childe x reader#genshin impact childe#childe#zhongli x reader#genshin impact zhongli#zhongli#headcanons#hurt/comfort
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can i req suna,, akaashi and iwa (and anyone else u want!!) getting jelly abt the s/o hanging out with another guy and being touchy (like the playful smacking or smth) without knowing the guy was their brother? angst to fluff bc i want the ✨ pain ✨ if u dont wanna its fine too,,
thanks bby,, love ur works so much! stay safe and healthy 😫💗
✗ HQ BOYS GETTING JEALOUS OF A GUY WITHOUT KNOWING HE’S YOUR BROTHER ✗

me receiving a request : 🥰 the request including suna :🤩 tysmm bby stay safe and healthy tooo <3

-> suna, iwaizumi, akaashi
-> angst to fluff
-> reblogs help a lot <33
— SUNA
• he hadn’t asked many questions when you told him you couldn’t come over to his house in the afternoon. but now, as he was replaying your snapchat story for the sixth time, he really wished he did
• maybe if he had insisted on coming with you, you wouldn’t have let this guy - that he had never seen, for the record - act so touchy with you
• was it his fault for not making you feel special enough ? to the point that you preferred the company of other men rather than your own boyfriend’s ?
• just the thought of this was enough to make a few of his usually well-hidden insecurities bubble up - most of them due to what his friends always joked about « suna doesn’t care enough to be in a relationship, they’ll all run away after a week ! »
• so yes, suna was hurt, but you didn’t have to see that. your opinion on him was the only one he cared about, he didn’t want to tarnish it. well... your opinion and his little sister’s, who burst into his room as he was about to watch your story for the seventh time to tell him that « someone’s at the door ! »
• not feeling like getting out of bed, it took him a few minutes to drag his feet to the door before finally opening it. and of all the people he could have expected to see, you were the last of them
• « surprise ? » you smiled as you let yourself in, not noticing the surprised look on his face as you greeted him with a tight hug. « i felt bad for cancelling our afternoon together, so i asked my brother to drop me off »
• you weren’t even done talking that suna had already recognized the man in the car that was leaving his driveway. his embrace immediately softened, and a smile crept on his face as he felt all his doubts vanish in a second
• « nuh-uh, don’t take your jacket off beautiful, i’m taking you out », he told you, determined to spoil you in the way he regretted not doing sooner
• at his words, his sister almost magically appeared next to you, coat in hand and ready to go. « you weren’t planning on leaving without me, right ? » she flashed you a toothless grin, grabbing both your hand and his to drag you two outside
• suna shared a deadpanned look with you, « of course not... » you both said in unison as she was already leading the way to her favorite ice cream shop
— IWAIZUMI
• iwa’s trust in you was infinite. but something about the way this guy had his arm playfully wrapped around your shoulders didn’t sit right with him
• his practice had ran late and he was exhausted. but he had promised you he would pop over to the birthday party of your childhood best friend, knowing how much it mattered to you
• but your behavior looked an awful lot like an attempt at making him jealous... and it was working
• was it your way of letting him know that you two weren’t working anymore ? were you just too much of a coward to be clear about it ? he hated to think about you that way. and most of all, he cared about you too much to not step in
• « ok now you got my attention » he told you after pulling you to the side. « if you want to tell me something, go ahead, i’m listening »
• still trapped in the euphoria of the moment, you didn’t really understand how upset he was. but maybe it was for the best, because it allowed you to defuse the tension lightheartedly : « i can’t believe i forgot to introduce you ! » you let out as you dragged him back to where your brother was still standing
• his jaw still clenched, iwa couldn’t even bring himself to shake this stranger’s hand, as friendly as he looked. at least not until you spoke your next words : « he was actually telling me how excited he was to finally met his future brother-in-law ! »
• iwa’s lips slightly parted in confusion, you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head over the music. brother? well that explained a lot of things
• « h-hi, sorry i was... miles away » he apologized before finally shaking the hand your brother was holding out to him
• but once the surprise had passed, another word stuck with him : brother-in-law ? as in « my sibling speaks so highly of you that i’m willing to let you put a ring on their finger even though i have never met you yet » ?
• well, it was good to know that your brother agreed with the plans he’d had for you since day 1...
— AKAASHI
• it was not unusual for akaashi to think that maybe he was not good enough for you. but being actually jealous was a first for him
• he had promised himself to never be too overprotective of you. but the facts were here : it was 3am and the only thing keeping him up was this unknown feeling of pure jealousy
• if he had not been in such a hurry when he witnessed your lighthearted banter and playful fighting with this man in the afternoon, he would’ve come up to you. introduced himself. maybe asked a few questions. if
• suspecting that this unpleasant feeling would not go away unless he talked to you about it, akaashi found himself dialling your number in the middle of the night
• used to his thoughts polluting his mind at unpredictable hours of the day and the night, your ringer was always on. which is why you picked up after only two rings
• « hi angel, i’m sorry to wake you up, i just... » he started, the clarity of his tone letting you know that he had not slept a wink. feeling his hesitation, you were quick to reassure him « it’s ok keiji. what’s going on ? »
• « who were you with ? i mean- this afternoon ? i don’t think i’ve ever met that guy and i was just wondering if... maybe i should ? »
• sitting up straight on your bed, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders. if this was the only thing keeping him awake, he should be able to fall asleep in the following minutes. « i was with my brother. but i understand why you were confused, it’s a normal reaction so please don’t blame yourself for that, alright baby ? »
• the gasp you heard on the other end of the line made you chuckle. akaashi’s voice was much less tensed now : « well in that case, yeah i should probably meet him... if you’re ok with that »
• « i’m more than ok with that » you smiled, placing your phone down on your pillow « wanna stay on the phone for a bit ? »
• « that’d be nice », his voice sounded sleepy already, especially above the familiar sound of his covers being pulled up to his chin
— ATSUMU
• how could he put that in words ? he didn’t even know if he was allowed to be jealous because he knew how often you had to see him deal with his many fangirls
• and that was actually what bugged him the most : that he might have already made you feel as shitty as he was feeling now
• but atsumu wasn’t the type to sit down and seriously open up about his feelings. besides, it was much easier to look like a needy boyfriend rather than a vulnerable one
• so he resorted to what he was best at : physical touch as a way to get your attention
• sneaking up behind you, he didn’t give you any warning before wrapping both his arms around your waist and pressing his chest on your back so much that you almost had to bend over
• he really hoped you would be perceptive enough to understand that he wasn’t just being clingy, but in need of a lot of reassurance. and luckily, it was quick to come :
• « tsumu, let me introduce you my brother » you chuckled, understanding how and why he had been mistaken
• one hand still on your waist, he used the other to greet your brother. atsumu did not really seem fazed by the news. of course he was relieved to know that he had nothing to worry about, but this little experience had still been very eye-opening to him
• after your brother had left to give you two some privacy, tsumu’s grip on your waist tightened, but in a softer way
• « ‘m sorry if i ever made ya cry » he let out, completely out of the blue. you didn’t really understand the meaning of this, but it didn’t matter. your hand found its way to his cheek that you brushed lightly with one finger, admiring the how it was slowly turning red. « being jealous sucks... » he added.
• « it does », you approved, giving him a quick peck on the nose. « but there’s nothing and no one that you should worry about, i promise »
• a fond smile lit up his face. you looked sincere, and he really needed to hear that right now. quick as ever, his hands left your waist to come and rest on your cheeks. both holding each other’s faces, you stared at the other for a few seconds, wondering which one of you would give in to a kiss first
TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu angst to fluff#haikyuu imagines#suna rintarou x reader#akaashi x reader#iwaizumi x reader#atsumu x reader#suna fluff#akaashi fluff#iwaizumi fluff#atsumu fluff#suna angst#iwaizumi angst#atsumu angst#akaashi angst
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As I've been watching folks come forward with stories about bullying and gatekeeping in the Cyberpunk fandom, and watching other folks who are kind of on the sidelines (like me) chime in with their takes, I've been debating if there is any value to me speaking up outside of tags in reblogs from other folks.
To be honest, I'm still a little unsure if there is: I'm not directly involved in any of this, I feel like some of what I have to say has already been said, and I feel like I might be inserting myself into something I could more or less let pass by me. But I have a lot of friends who have been directly affected by this, and a common sentiment seems to be "Thank you for sharing. You're not alone."
So maybe my two cents can also help alleviate someone's pain or sense of isolation.
In spite of the current climate, I have actually found Cyberpunk on the whole to be one of the most chill fandoms I've ever been a part of. (Granted, weathering the Dragon Age fandom circa 2013-2015 might cloud my judgment a little here.) Although to be real: I'm also probably lucky that my blorbo of choice wasn't ~*claimed*~ by anyone, which has allowed me to create and vibe in peace.
But I will say when I "joined" last summer/fall, when I was basically a loner doing my thing, before I even knew most of my CP friends or any cliques or spilled tea, I got Bad Vibes™️ from certain parties pretty quickly. I generally prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt, sometimes at the expense of ignoring my gut instincts, but eventually, I felt like first impressions were accurate and I have maintained my distance.
I've participated in online fandom communities for over 20 years--While every fandom will have its unique flavor of drama, you eventually start to spot the troublemakers from a mile away. People who can't share their toys but still expect to be a part of a broader community, people who surround themselves with yes-men, people who crave validation to an unhealthy extent, people who insist their friends like and dislike the same community members they do, people who prey on other fans who are susceptible to manipulation, etc.
I felt relatively safe from all this behavior: I know what I like and what I'm about, I'm confident in my niche, and I met some really cool people I'm happy and honored to call my friends now. But I noticed over the past few months that almost every single one of them had a story about being wronged one way or another by this particular group. I also noticed that in spite of the hold this group seemed to have over fandom, a lot of people, directly affected or not, seemed to share a lot of the same concerns I had just weeks into the fandom. But everyone was afraid to say anything.
And I think to some extent, for good reason: callout posts and going public about ~*fandom drama*~ is a whole ass thing. They can often make things worse, they can often further divide a community, they almost always put the person doing the calling out under a microscope. Victims will have their valid concerns and legitimate experiences with harassment be dismissed as "clout chasing" or "just being jealous" while the perpetrators often just double-down on their behavior. It's scary and can feel futile to speak up and disrupt the status quo, even if the status quo sucks.
People will also be told "this should be handled privately." I do think a lot of things can and should be resolved privately, and I generally advocate this as a first step over going directly to callout posts. However, this requires both parties to have an investment in reaching some kind of reconciliation--I get the sense that this point has long passed. (Incidentally, it also requires being able to talk to someone privately, which can't be done if you block 80% of the community. It's pretty disingenuous of a person to say "this should have been handled privately" if they've removed that as an option.)
The exact goal of a callout post can also be muddied. Toxic in its own way, even. Yes, sometimes it is absolutely about trying to run people out of fandom. I can't honestly say I've never thought "this community would be better off without so-and-so." I have. I've probably said it, too. But at my core, I also genuinely believe in people having an opportunity to learn from their mistakes and be better. I don't think people who have been wronged need to stick around for that personal journey and I think a part of that journey might require taking a step back from a community, but I do understand the discomfort of witnessing (or experiencing) what feels like mass ostracization and retribution.
But in this particular situation, I think the greatest takeaway is that people who felt isolated are realizing they are not. The fact that so many people have come forward to share experiences that have been burdening them for months I think speaks volumes to the damage that has been done here. I also think trying to reduce this hurt and trauma to "clout chasing" or "being jealous" is not only reductive but perpetuates this harm.
And the last thing I'm going to say about this is really more criticism of CDPR than the fandom, but I feel it's still relevant since the two are rather entwined at this point.
Since witnessing the way David Gaider's behavior with fans contributed to a lot of wank in the Dragon Age fandom ten years ago, I have felt very strongly that it's important for the well-being of both parties to maintain a certain distance.
This isn't to say that they shouldn't interact at all or that there shouldn't any kind of community outreach--I have personally done some very cool things, like going to E3 (back when that was still a thing), as a result of an excellent community program from another franchise--But devs not on the community side (who are probably better equipped to handle things like the effects of parasocial relationships) can really run the risk of disrupting the already fragile ecosystem of a fandom, even with the best of intentions. I believe that has happened to an extent here as well, and I would just caution devs and fans alike about respecting the need for some boundaries.
I don't really have a clever little summation for this, so I'm just going to end with a screenshot of my Duolingo lesson for today being far too relevant because I honestly got a good laugh out of it:

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No Rest for the Deathworlders
Logan had always loved the stars.
Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.
He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.
A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.
He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.
The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.
“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”
Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.
Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.
The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.
He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.
“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”
Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.
For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.
“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”
Ok, maybe Logan did care.
“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”
Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”
“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.
Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.
He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.
“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”
Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?
In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.
He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.
There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.
He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.
The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.
Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.
The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.
“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.
Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”
“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.
He could try.
If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.
The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.
In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.
He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.
“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.
He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.
“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”
The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”
Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.
Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.
He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”
They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.
He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.
“What would you do in—“
The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”
“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”
“Well get it to hurry!”
The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.
It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.
It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.
An alarm blared.
The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.
And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.
Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.
Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.
“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.
There was a pained, screeching scream.
Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.
Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.
Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!
Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.
He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.
Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.
He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.
•^*^••
He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.
He wasn’t dead at least.
Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.
The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?
Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?
He forced his eyes open.
He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.
He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.
He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.
“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.
The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.
It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.
Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.
There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.
He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.
The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.
“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”
The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.
Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.
The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.
That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?
Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.
The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.
“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.
The alien chittered back at him.
Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.
•^*^••
“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.
“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.
“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.
“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”
“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”
It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.
And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.
They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.
Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.
But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.
And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.
They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.
“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”
Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”
“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.
Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.
It’d been a hard day for both of them.
•^*^••
They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.
But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.
Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.
Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.
As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.
Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.
“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.
Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.
Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.
Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.
Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.
They tried three times, but the door held firm.
Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.
Logan wondered what their home planet was like.
The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.
Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.
The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”
The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.
The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.
Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.
“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.
“No.”
“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.
The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.
“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.
The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.
It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.
The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.
Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.
As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.
Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.
He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.
“Virgil?”
Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.
Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.
Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.
Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”
The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.
“Logan.”
Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.
Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.
The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.
He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.
Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.
“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”
There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.
Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.
Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.
A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.
“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”
Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.
“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”
Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”
Virgil made a low, soft whistle.
Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”
Virgil nudged his arm with their own.
Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.
“What is it?”
“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.
Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”
Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”
Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”
But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.
“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.
But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.
Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”
Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.
Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”
Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.
“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”
Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.
Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”
Virgil made an almost trilling noise.
•^*^••
“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”
“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.
“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.
“Well what about the other one?”
“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”
Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”
Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.
Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.
He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.
He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.
Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.
“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”
The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.
Perhaps he really was in serious danger.
“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.
Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”
“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.
“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”
The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”
The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.
“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.
“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”
Yikes, the human sounded angry.
“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”
The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.
Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.
“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.
“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.
Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.
“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”
“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.
And then it leapt forward.
Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”
He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.
“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.
“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”
There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.
“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.
“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”
Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”
Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.
“Hurry,” the human said coldly.
The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.
“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”
The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.
“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.
“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”
The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.
“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”
Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”
The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”
“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.
“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”
“…yes.”
“Give us one.”
There was a long pause from Roman.
“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”
This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.
“Alright,” Roman said.
•^*^••
The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.
They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.
He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.
Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.
•^*^••
Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.
Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.
It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.
And then there was an engine powering up.
A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.
“Hey! Hey wait!”
He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”
“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.
Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.
“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.
#Forgot I meant to post this on tumblr and never did 😅#my own work#sanders sides#logan sanders#virgil sanders#roman sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders#patton sanders#humans are space orcs
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