#I cannot actually make anyone shut up outside of using the block button so I don't have to see their nonsense

[franstastic-ideas]

I love Pokémon, it's one of my special interests, but sometimes I really hate the fanbase.

"Volo doesn't actually have any sympathetic or redeeming qualities (you just think he's pretty)."

"Geeta is secretly evil!"

"Carmine is so TOXIC!"

"Kieran is unforgiveable-"

Shut up. Shut Up. SHUT UP.

UP! THE! SHUT!

And continue to shut up until you've acquired some reading comprehension!

[saphirered]

Would an individual ask about Caleb ending up with the reader instead of Essek at the end of campaign be alright? I love the wizard bois together, but I'm crushing baaaad on Caleb hehe. Maybe they teach and live happily ever after together, very domestic living after all the adventures they've had :3

Hoping to satisfy your Caleb crush. How's this for some domestic fluff? Enjoy! 😘

The first rays of sunlight are blocked by thick heavy curtains. Awake or asleep, Caleb’s sense of time never fails him. He wakes up bright and early on the minute precise but makes no move to truly start his day. How could he with the sight he wakes to? There you lay, in his arms, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Never did he think he’d see you so relaxed, or allow yourself to be so relaxed. Sure your lives are not free of stress or the occasional disaster and rarely are your livelihoods in peril these days but compared to months ago that doesn’t even come close to the dangers you’ve faced together; dangers that the majority of the people will never know about. A moment of peace and quiet was just another luxury you and him couldn’t truly afford no matter how much you may have pretended. But now you finally know peace.

Caleb watches your eyes flutter beneath your eyelids and watches just a moment longer carefully trailing his fingers up from their place on your waist to your cheek, caressing it fondly as you sleep. He reminisces when and where your lives intertwined in that tavern in Trostenwald and the events leading you both here together in your shared apartment in Rexxentrum at the Soltryce Academy as respectable teachers of the arts you both love.

When you first met Caleb feared you. He feared you more than anything for you just like him had ties to the Cerberus Assembly but you did not suffer the same fate he had. Luckily your studies were of no interest of his former master and you were instead claimed by another sent out into the world to learn more and find your own way. He was so scared you might lead the Assembly to his nonexistent doorstep and at one point entertained the thought you were a spy sent to bring him back but you proved the opposite. When he revealed his story and you told him you would help him or die trying beside him he brushed you off. Persistent as you are you gave him the wakeup call of a lifetime saying that you’re not doing this just for him but everyone before him, everyone after him.

To Caleb you will always represent all that is good and pure in this world despite the horrors that may have shaped you, changed you for better or worse. He will always consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world to have you at his side as his confidant, moral compass, study-mate, intellectual equal, bailout, friend, partner, but most of all; his lover for he could not want for anyone else in the world. No one could ever replace you and no one can compare to you. You may tell him you’re not the most intelligent, quick-witted, charming or interesting individual in the world but to him you are and he will argue with you on that until you grow tired of him and are forced to accept. He certainly does not mind the fluster of your cheeks and kiss you offer to shut him up.

And now you lie asleep cuddled up against him, limbs intertwined, the sunset orange covers slipping from your shoulder. Caleb hears the birds begin their song signalling he must leave the warm comforts of your embrace so carefully he begins to untangle his legs from yours, his arm from underneath your head replacing it by quickly pulling the pillow above down. He begins to untangle your grasp on his shirt slowly removing your fingers one by one. A deep intake of breath on your end and adjustment of your legs below the covers has him worried he’s woken you up.

Caleb knows fully well you have your own ways of waking up on time and you would have asked him the night before if he ought to wake you, so since you’re not already awake he’ll give you every extra minute of sleep you can get. You deserve it so he’ll curse himself if he’s the one to ruin it. Once you have adjusted and he’s sure you’re still sleeping he continues and removes himself from the warm comforts you’re huddled up among longing for nothing more than to share them a minute longer and gathers his things. In putting his lesson plans, notes and a few books to pass the time for the day he bends down to allow the orange tabby to jump into his arms and sets the cat onto the table taking a moment to stroke its fur and give some chin scratches leaving the little beastie purring.

Ridding himself of his night clothes Caleb puts on his shirt, and trousers tucking the shirt into the waistband and moves on to his footwear as per his usual routine. He takes the vest set out for him and is about to button it up when he feels eyes on him. His first thoughts go to the cat but that one’s not the guilty audience so instead his eyes fall to you, propped up against the headboard watching him.

“Well don’t stop on my accord. Though, I prefer the clothes back on the chair.” Your voice is still riddled with sleep but you’re awake enough for your comments so Caleb feels justified to give you a disapproving scowl though he cannot prevent the smile from creeping up his lips.

“Good morning to you too.” Caleb smiles as you cover a yawn with the back of your hand. You pull yourself out of the bed and stumble over to Caleb until you’re toe to toe placing a hand on his cheek guiding him into a kiss. Your lips move against his and his arms wrap around you to return and welcome your efforts openly. Though, enough’s enough and Caleb breaks the kiss giving you one final peck in an attempt to kiss away the onset disappointment and pout on your end.

“No matter how much I’d like to continue, Astrid will have both of our heads we show up late.” Caleb runs his fingers through your hair kissing your cheek as you cross your arms. Is there nothing you can do to convince him to stay? He might be right about Astrid…

“Well, I do not have any classes until second period but if you’re so adamant to stay with me I can send the archmage a message to tell her you’re regretful to be missing your first class of the day and to find a substitute.” You’re joking. Not really. A joke hiding the actual offer. Caleb considers it for a brief moment purely to entertain the thought but he knows very well he shouldn’t.

“You know we can’t but how about I make it up to you with dinner and dancing and a night in? Just the two of us.” Caleb cups your cheeks stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs, a gesture he knows very well makes you melt.

“That sounds like an agreeable offer, professor Widogast.” Your acceptance brings another bright smile to his face and he pulls you into another chaste kiss to seal the deal. This time you’re the one to pull away.

“Best get you ready for the day then, lest you be late.” Your nimble fingers stroke down the front of his chest finding the buttons of his vest and one by one buttoning them up. Once you’re done you take a few steps back looking him over.

“Do I pass your inspection, professor?” Caleb laughs half the mind to do a little spin for you but he refrains instead lifting the cat from the table into his arms.

“With flying colours. I think his highness is inclined to agree.” You watch as the cat meows making himself comfortable in your wizard’s arms without any intent to go anywhere but alas, all good things come to an end be it for the cat or you. With some protests Caleb puts the cat back on the ground allowing the creature to skitter off to gods know where.

You pull open the curtains allowing the light of dawn to fill the room. Caleb already regrets the decision of not taking you up on your offer to call in late and miss his first class as you look absolutely radiant but he feels certain both of you will be missing second and possibly even third period if he does, so he must refrain. Tonight will make up for it. He’s already got the perfect place in mind for dinner.

You catch Caleb staring, his gaze following you as you pull at the heavy fabric until the outside world is revealed to you. You put a little sway in your step before you gather your own clothes for the day and change in your usual attire, slowly. Deliberately slow. If he’s already staring you better not waste your opportunity and make a show of it.

“No use in staying in bed all alone. His Highness makes for good company but he’s a dull conversationalist. Perhaps I’ll drop by Beau at the Archives?” You deliberate your events for the morning tapping your chin.

“If you do, tell the Expositor I have some more files for her to study.” Caleb, finally pulled out of his trance steps back over to you, or rather besides you to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. You know he’s about to be off so you wrap your arm around his waist as you guide him to the door. Not much you can change about the need for students to be taught the wonders of transmutation magic. While you may find times you’d want to spend more time together, in the end neither of you would ever want to give up teaching. There’s plenty of other times you can spend together happily. Or you can justify combining your classes for one reason or another as you love nothing more than to share your passions.

“I’ll see you in a few hours at the Academy?” Caleb watches as you fall silent for a moment, your focus drawn away.

“Yes, I’ll make sure he knows. We’ll be there. Thank you.” You speak but Caleb knows fully well it’s not directed at him. This has become a habit he’s very much gotten used to so he simply awaits for you to share the message.

“Astrid wants us for lunch. She threatened to limit your access to the library if you’re late.” Of course she does, Caleb thinks to himself. So the archmage may or may not have heard about his almost-arrest of the day before. He’d already gotten an earful from you.

“Of course she does. There go our lunch plans for our free period.”

“You’re the one to get arrested for- and I quote ‘encourage insurgence among young impressionable souls’.” You grin. Okay, you may have been a little proud of Caleb actively trying to do better but you could do without the accusations of treason. You’d rather not have Caleb spend the night in jail because word got out or he pissed off the wrong person. You’d expect this from Beauregard but had hoped Caleb would be more careful about it and so apparently thought Astrid. He’s in for a scolding according to her tone.

“Merely teaching young impressionable souls how to be better. Is that a crime?” You grab Caleb’s coat and help him into it as he offers you a ‘thank you’.

“According to the king, yes it is.” The amusement in your voice is enough to earn you a playful glare. You open the door for Caleb and he steps halfway out offering you one final kiss.

“Love you.” Caleb pecks your lips. You’ve drawn out the length of the kiss long enough and he’s already on the verge of running late now so no matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go.

“Love you too, Caleb. See you soon and for the love of the arcane arts; stay out of trouble.” You know he won’t make that promise as he can’t keep it but you still tell him to every time. You kiss his cheek stepping back and watching the wizard leave as you close the door. Nothing but a usual morning; sneaking out of bed, cats, kisses, a message from your friend the archmage, talks of treason and the love of two fate-entwined mages trying to make the world a better place.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 2)

And we're back with more exciting and mean Natsume! Here we will further explore Natsume's life and how absolutely dark his existence is, as well as some very important aspects of his personality that will be useful to us when NatsuMikan starts picking up speed.

Again, I am warning people that this whole essay in general talks heavily about topics like bullying, child abuse, suicidal ideation, and depression, so if those are triggering topics, it might be better for you to not read.

Previously, we were introduced to Natsume and he has sent Mikan on a dangerous quest to the Northern Woods. During that trip, she and her friends have captured his one and only best friend, Ruka, which will not bode well.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five is instrumental for completing Natsume’s introduction, long as it’s been. Natsume is a mysterious character, and he will continue to be evasive and strange for many chapters to come, but by the end of this chapter, we will understand some basic foundation for his character.

The chapter starts with Ruka’s point of view, recalling a moment when he saw Natsume cry, presumably after a mission. Ruka wonders why it’s only Natsume that has to go through “this”, and Natsume tells him that he can take it--for now. He says he wants to grow up and be an adult, to be big and strong enough to properly escape this hell. This is a consistent wish of Natsume’s, and in many ways his only wish: to grow up already.

Higuchi really out here trying to convince us this was supposed to be a cheerful story.

Natsume had to be an adult, had to make the selfless and responsible choices for the sake of his family and for Ruka, had to abandon play and smiles and laughter for a life of secret missions and frequent hospital trips. He’s dying and he wants to be an adult already because he’s certain he’ll never be able to grow up. He wants his body to match the level of responsibility he’s had to take on, but he can’t force the outside to match the inside, especially when he’ll probably be dead long before it happens anyway. This wish evolves and changes when he falls for Mikan, but it doesn’t go away.

He associates adulthood with control, because his life at the academy has been observing the adults control and use him. He wants control for once, to be able to make a choice and even just say no.

Ruka notes that Natsume hasn’t cried at all since that night, and that he now keeps all his sorrow locked away. This kid needs therapy, immediately. This is another reason that Ruka is so precious to Natsume. Ruka is compassionate and kind, so concerned about his friend that he would also shut away his own heart so that he can’t be happy for as long as Natsume is in agony.

Natsume has a scene of his own, where he snaps at Permy for saying that Mikan is full of crap and lying about being an alice. He points out that the academy is not an easy place to lie your way into, and Permy immediately backtracks and lies that she’s agreed with him this whole time. Like I’d said earlier about the loneliness involved in being surrounded by fans who don’t really know or understand you, having people all around you bend over backwards for your approval makes it clear that they really have no interest in what you’re saying, just that you’re the one saying it.

In the anime essay, I’d pointed out that because of their admiration for him, it would elude people that Natsume is in fact lonely. He speaks out against things and people rush to agree, not really considering why he might say that. This is a similar moment, though he doesn’t seem too bothered by Permy’s behavior. It’s still concerning, but it’s interesting to compare this “yes, man” attitude to Ruka’s.

There is obviously a difference between someone agreeing with every word of your mouth no matter how much it changes and contradicts, bending over backwards for your approval, and someone wanting to match you out of compassion, but Ruka’s line of thinking does still have some major flaws.

Ruka is a child, just like the rest of them, so even though this behavior is motivated by love and compassion, it’s still immature and raises some questions.

“If you won’t smile, I won’t smile either,” is a sweet line, but now Natsume is aware that Ruka’s misery is his fault. If he wasn’t so sad, Ruka could be happy. This doesn’t make Natsume happy; it just makes them both sad, and that doesn’t solve any problems. Naturally, Natsume would never say that, and Ruka would claim he’s unbothered and--just like Natsume--that he doesn’t care about hanging out with the others, but they’re both miserable now, and I think this is part of the reason why there’s a gap between them at the start of the manga, and why they’re a bit distant, despite being best friends.

They’re each other’s most important person, but they don’t really communicate that well, and Ruka constantly feels like a burden.

Natsume needs something that Ruka can’t give him, and that something is what he’ll eventually get from Mikan.

That being said, at the moment, Natsume is getting nothing but irritation from Mikan. When he finds out Mikan and her gang kidnapped Ruka, that irritation turns into rage and we see a final fundamental building block for Natsume’s character: his berserk button.

Natsume doesn’t care about the reasoning or justification for the kidnapping. He doesn’t care about explanations or common sense.

His rage only increases when he discovers Ruka was tied up and even beaten (he is told this by a classmate, when Ruka is actually unharmed). The other kids in Class B--his admirers--are terrified to see how scary Natsume is when he’s furious.

Natsume's biggest weakness is Ruka so Mikan is kinda fucked.

He doesn’t care about the game anymore. He only cares about Ruka.

So he goes to the Northern Woods, where nobody is expecting him. He tells Mikan to leave the school, which… she cannot do, obviously. He is overtaken by rage and he ceases to be reasonable.

He uses his alice on everyone but Ruka, and is about to use it on Mikan, but her alice nullifies it. Then Narumi kisses him, prompting him to pass out.

Here, we are introduced to a consistent character trait of Natsume’s, one that may contradict all that talk about forced maturity and selflessness. In fact, Natsume’s habit to go absolutely postal on anyone who threatens a loved one is a contradictory one. Going into a rage requires the sacrifice of common sense and reason for the sake of complete emotional detonation, and as a result he fails to understand that his actions could inadvertently hurt his loved ones or innocent bystanders. No reassuring words are enough to calm him down, and sure enough Natsume will destroy something.

It’s important that we see this trait now, as part of Natsume’s informal introduction, as we will see plenty more instances of it later on. In a way, going berserk for someone can even be a love language of his, where if a person being threatened is enough to set him off, he probably cares about them.

And just as interesting as seeing what he does in these situations is posing the why! Why is it that Natsume goes ballistic in these situations, when it requires the loss of the one thing he wishes he had more of, control? My guess is that Natsume has had a rough childhood and much of that time was spent running away from a dangerous entity. Staying cool and calculated under some conditions would have its benefits, but so would the quick-action and confidence that Natsume would gain by going berserk. When you have to protect someone, and Natsume has been in that situation many times, then it’s sometimes even beneficial to be able to lose yourself for a moment or two. But perhaps it’s not that either. Natsume is, despite all his airs of coldness and mystery, actually a very emotional person, and in that way he is easy to understand. Even if this isn’t a habit he developed by watching his loved ones ripped away from him through either extortion, manipulation, or just plain murder, it’s still something he might be predisposed to: attacking with everything he has despite not having a clear plan or even any real thought.

Chapter Six

We pick up where we left off and Natsume wakes up grumpy after everyone seeing him under the effects of Narumi’s pheromone alice. He causes more destruction, still in somewhat of a rage, and even causes Narumi a head wound though his teacher seems unbothered by this (or maybe even used to it, who can say).

The next thing that happens is that an alarm rings, signaling that Natsume is due for severe punishment, and, as Naru points out, not something he can help with this time. Narumi warns him to get a move on before a mystery enemy (Persona) arrives, and that is enough to scare Natsume into getting out of there. But not before he issues a word of warning of his own to Mikan, that she will regret coming to Alice Academy of her own free will.

Isn't it interesting how her optimism, something he hated so much about her from the start, ends up being something he loves about her?

I have very many thoughts about this warning. It might even seem like a threat, as if Natsume will go out of his way to make sure she regrets her decision, but he does no such thing. He is convinced that Mikan doesn’t need help reaching that conclusion--she will realize it on her own because the school is simply that terrible.

It makes a little bit of sense to view Natsume’s hatred of Mikan this way: Mikan skipped right into his own personal hell with a smile on her face and a bubbly attitude. Meanwhile, he fought and kicked and screamed right until the very end when he was forced into attending the academy. And Mikan is not some normal girl who might be able to live a quiet and pleasant life in the academy. She’s already been marked, what with all the games about her enrollment, and that might anger Natsume even more: she’s really naive enough to walk into a place that’s not just hell to him, but inevitably to her too. Because of this, Natsume hates her and is predisposed to hate her more the more cheerful and optimistic she is.

And, unlike in the anime, this hatred takes much longer to go away.

Anyway, we see Natsume again later in class, when he shows up late after having just been terribly abused as punishment for his actions in the Northern Woods.

In the anime, Natsume catches Mikan insulting him while wearing the punishment mask, and although he’s covered in scratches and the kids are whispering about his bad mood, there’s not much else to it. He doesn’t seem any more unpleasant than he’s been this whole time.

There's nothing funny about this but I will put here as a warning that anybody who jokes that kids should be hit will be hit by me!

In the manga, Natsume is so weak that he can hardly stand. It’s not just scratches, but blood and gashes on his wrists and legs. The mask is not only used to mark him, it’s also used to punish, by physically abusing him when Persona has better things to do.

He makes his way to his seat, but Narumi is on the way, just enough to make a quippy comment.

(I wonder sometimes about Narumi establishing himself as untrustworthy to the children, particularly Natsume, and how exactly that’s supposed to be a help to the student body at large. I mean there’s the possibility that Mikan is special, and her being Yuka’s daughter helped Narumi remember what he became a teacher for. In that case, it might make sense that Narumi, being so jaded and bitter, might be content acting as a villain to the abused children of the academy, and especially to Natsume, but I can’t help but feel that’s not the case. I don’t want to think that Narumi was willingly complicit and even amused by Natsume’s abuse. It’s difficult to tell for sure, though, because Narumi is way more mysterious than Natsume tries to be.)

Sumire tries to kiss up, whining to Natsume about how everyone is suddenly acting so nice to the new girl, until Natsume forcefully kicks her desk to shut her up. He only holds back with Ruka, who he would never lash out at.

Narumi then announces that Mikan shall have a partner, and that her partner will be Natsume. It’s funny because although Hotaru made it clear she didn’t want the job, Iinchou was willing to volunteer, but Narumi ignores that because he always wanted Natsume to be her partner. At this news, everyone is shocked, wondering if Mikan is supposed to be special, seeing as she’s paired up with Natsume of all people.

Narumi smiles to himself despite the chaos and then lets himself leave the classroom, saying, “let’s see what happens.”

Why does he partner them up?

Mikan thinks Narumi is crazy for this, and from an outside perspective it certainly might seem that way.

Natsume’s theory, as becomes clear later during the exams, is that this was organized by the ESP and Persona, perhaps as a punishment, but definitely with ulterior motives. He is closer to nailing it, but a little off. There is no way in hell the ESP would want to partner the child of rabble-rousers with the school’s pet child soldier. That’s a recipe for disaster. Knowing that the ESP was excited to welcome Mikan because of her alice, and that her presence at the school might encourage Yuka to try and save her, he wouldn’t have wanted to disturb his own plans.

So what is the reason?

It’s all Narumi, of course. Perhaps the O.G. shipper, Narumi could tell right away that Mikan’s nullification would be useful, particularly in regards to Natsume. Pairing them up is just another means to an end, as Narumi actually wants the kids to raise some trouble.

Chapter Seven

Being partners with Natsume is quite unhelpful.

Mikan ends up a No-Star and her Special-Star partner is for the most part absent throughout her ordeals, having to cope with it all on her own.

Chapter Seven is mainly lacking Natsume. He functions to not function for most of it, that is to establish himself as being a terrible partner.

There is a moment that stands out, when Mikan is writing a letter to her grandpa, where Natsume appears. Yes, he appears in her head to taunt her about her regret coming to the school, and she spites him by committing to optimism and determination in the future. But he also has a short appearance paralleling a panel of Mikan: they are both in their beds, awake.

WHAT WAS THE REASON?????!??!?!?

This parallel is interesting, their panels right next to each other. She is thinking about her grandpa, and we have no way of knowing what Natsume is thinking about, but there has to be a reason for him to appear despite having been mostly absent so far in the chapter.

To me, it’s another narrative tool to pair them together. They have been so far, in more ways than one, and will continue to be as they fall in love, and this is just another example of how they’d been fated from the start. Even when they hate each other, and even when they aren’t thinking of each other, they’re still tied. Looking at those panels, and seeing Natsume despite his relative irrelevance to the plot, seems to be a message that there’s more to come between them. I don’t know if any of what I’m saying makes sense, or if it seems silly, but there’s very little analysis I can do without just talking about potential.

Later, with Mikan in a new mood, ready to make the most of her situation, the kids are talking about her resilience with both her no-star status and having Natsume as a partner.

Ruka does the talking for Natsume, warning Mikan that she’s being watched and remarking that nobody should have been assigned a no-star for simply disturbing class.

Once again, Mikan and Natsume are paired: they are both treated unfairly, with Mikan given a no-star status she doesn’t deserve, and Natsume given a special-star status despite the fact that he doesn’t even go to class most of the time. They’re the exceptions to the rule, and the reader is made to wonder what exactly it is that they have in common that would result in this treatment.

Ruka tells Mikan not to trust any teachers at the academy, not even Naru, and this is almost like hearing from Natsume himself. Unlike Mikan, who will happily make strong bonds with teachers like Narumi and Nodacchi, Natsume has absolutely no positive adult figures in his life. His father is far away, his mother is dead, and every teacher is someone he holds either directly or indirectly responsible for his suffering. The adults at the school have failed him and he has nobody to trust. Something Natsume needs is a positive role model, somebody he can look up to and have faith in, because as it stands he’s a traumatized boy who absorbs negativity and takes it out in bad ways. A trustworthy adult would very much help Natsume grow and learn better coping skills, and in the meantime it makes perfect sense that he would act out and even be a bully at times.

Chapter Eight

Natsume has a habit of ignoring any and all episodes where Mikan has confrontations with her teachers. He is either dozing off or listening to music with Ruka, and doesn’t seem particularly interested in even watching.

That being said, we see a new side to Natsume in this chapter, a new emotion in a way we haven’t before: fear.

Natsume ditches class with regularity. He does not care about being present. For most classes, he would simply walk out and go screw around somewhere else, but with the dangerous ability class, he doesn’t have that choice.

The other teachers may be complicit, but they won’t do the abuse themselves. Persona is not above that, as we have already noticed despite never even seeing him so far.

If Natsume does not want to attend the dangerous ability class, then he has to run for it, and in this chapter he does, like his life depends on it, because his safety sure does. He’s only ten years old and forced to do horrible missions for the school. This is one of the scenes that reminds me that he is just a child. He knows he could get punished for running, but he does it anyway. Maybe, if he runs fast enough, they won’t catch him. Maybe, if he doesn’t get caught, he doesn’t have to go on a mission. Maybe, just this once, they won’t mind if he doesn’t show. It’s such a childish and desperate thing to do, to avoid pain at the cost of more pain to come.

Natsume is scary when he's scared...

It’s funny that as he is running from pain, he runs into Mikan, who will later alleviate his pain. For now, he just shuts her up so that Persona can pass the area while looking for him. We see Persona for the first time, what Natsume is scared of more than anything, and although his fear seems obvious, Mikan is preoccupied by annoyance for being shut up like that.

They bicker--or she bickers at him, mostly--until the middle schoolers encounter them and start bullying them.

Natsume is ready to ignore them and walk away, until Sumire’s brother calls him a murderer, reminding us of the rumor Hotaru and Iinchou discussed. Natsume stops, and Sumire’s brother whines that he’s just a special star because he’s “Persona’s favorite”.

Sumire and her brother have, like, nothing in common other than curly hair, huh.

Being Persona’s favorite is no privilege, as we know now from the run-in we just had with him and Natsume’s fear. This sets Natsume off and he starts some fires. When they threaten to call Persona, who Natsume was just running from, he responds that they can call him all they want, but he’ll burn them before he can get there to capture him. We see once again, through Natsume standing up for himself, that his berserk button lacks reason (as he is willing to sacrifice punishment by Persona again).

In a last-ditch attempt to threaten him, the middle schoolers threaten Mikan, who they perceive to be Natsume’s new girlfriend. (Calling her his girlfriend is interesting because it is even more proof that they are being narratively paired together! It shouldn’t be a surprise at all that they eventually get together, when almost everybody around them pairs them up like this, even when they can’t stand each other.) They do not expect that Natsume actually hates her, and genuinely doesn’t care if she gets bullied or not. He smiles in twisted amusement at this turn of events and walks away for good this time, leaving Mikan to be bullied.

Aw, he's smiling! How sweet.... oh wait that's a skull.

Now, Natsume is a good person deep inside, somebody who is selfless and kind in secret ways. There is no secret kindness about this scene. He is not a nice person, for sure, and this scene is proof of it.

Natsume is used to sacrificing himself for the comfort and well-being of his loved ones, so there might be relief in not caring about the comfort or well-being of somebody, and being able to choose his own well-being before that of somebody else for once. It makes sense that he would be so amused, because this time nobody has anything to hold over his head.

Conclusion

We have seen some more of the abuse Natsume faces on a daily basis. He and Mikan have been partnered up and they are presented narratively as foils and as pairs even outside of that dynamic.

For the next part, we'll see even more examples of them being paired together, as well as how Natsume is isolated from his classmates.

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[tickle-bugs]

I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :) 

Feel free to add advice to this!

- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms. 

- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down. 

- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area. 

- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)! 

Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)

- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.  

- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it. 

- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules. 

- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.

- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.

- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)

- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics. 

- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though: 

- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!

- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!

- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)

- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice. 

- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)

@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea. 

Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask. 

[mittensmorgul]

The Tumblr Beta Version: an objective analysis

I was tempted to just type “it sucks.” And while that is an objective analysis, it’s not exactly helpful. I’ve sent several requests to @staff and @support to restore my account to the old tumblr dashboard format, and received the same automated reply twice now. I’ll copy/paste it here so everyone is on the same page:

(lol, I had to go back and edit this, because apparently the beta version doesn’t display block quotes on the dash. So I’ve also put the block quotes in italics... hopefully it’ll display properly... note after editing: nope, it doesn’t display italics either... how the heck am I supposed to differentiate quoted text? I’ll start each quoted bit with an asterisk, I guess...)

*Thanks for reaching out about the beta dashboard.

*We're currently testing it out, and your account seems to have been selected to take part in the test. Thanks for your patience while we work on it! At this time there is not a way to opt out of testing. You may see your Tumblr experience return to normal as we continue testing.

WE CAN ONLY HOPE.

*In the meantime, check out some of the new features available only in the beta dashboard:

OKAY TUMBLR, IF YOU INSIST, though I would MUCH rather have back all the functionality I personally invested into this website through xkit... you know... making the site ACTUALLY FUNCTIONAL. Let’s see what this beta version has given me instead of functionality:

*Change Palettes: Go to the person icon, then click "Change Palette." You'll find the classic Tumblr blue, dark mode, and a few other color palettes for your dash.

So I tried out all the color palettes. In addition to the ones mentioned here, there’s one that’s trying to look like a green screen terminal that gives me flashbacks to the early 80′s. There’s a reason we stopped using green screen terminals... Another one is “canary yellow.” It’s very yellow. The “classic tumblr” isn’t actually classic tumblr... all the post boxes are dark blue with grey type, not white with black type. And all the other colors are the insanely bright fluorescent of the new Dark Blue standard tumblr scheme. Which means links are practically invisible unless I highlight them. It’s migraine inducing. The one theme with a light colored background is called “Concrete” or “Cement” or something like that and even that only works for about half an hour before the migraine aura really kicks in. I just want my Old Blue via xkit back. You know, what tumblr actually used to look like. I don’t want any of these horrible color palettes. None of them work for me.

*The new "meatballs" menu: This is where you can copy the post link, unfollow the Tumblr who made or reblogged the post, or report a violation to our Community Guidelines.

I could do all of this from the user menus with xkit, too. I don’t regularly report violations or have the urge to block people I have chosen to follow. Why on earth would I want to do any of this? And why would I want these features located directly beside the post link copy feature? 

You know what I do miss? I miss the xkit timestamps feature. I didn’t have to hover dangerously close to the KILL IT WITH FIRE meatballs menu in order to see when a post was made, and in this era of disinformation and misinformation spreading around this site faster than Covid-19, being able to see when a post was ORIGINALLY created is a far more useful feature than an easier way to block people. For reference: I currently have three blogs blocked. Two of them are pornbots. One is a nazi. If I don’t want someone’s content on my dash, I don’t follow them. This “feature” is entirely useless to me.

*A quick note: Pagination is not supported in this beta test, but we're collecting feedback to send to our engineers.

THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST. This beta test might actually be tolerable if I wasn’t trapped into endless scrolling. If I could page through my dash, refreshing it every ten posts or so. You know why? Because once I scroll about 30 posts down my dash, tumblr starts overheating my laptop under the load of ALL THOSE POSTS. Things start malfunctioning-- it takes longer and longer to load new posts the farther I scroll. And the keyboard navigation (both page down and hitting J to advance to the next post, and even just using the down arrow to scroll as I read a long post) freeze and stop functioning. One of my laptop fans has actually begun to malfunction.

You know why this wasn’t a problem on the old version? If the data load got to heavy, I could open a post in a new tab, click view on dash with xkit, and voila! Brand new tab! I could close the malfunctioning tab and everything would be refreshed to normal! But without pagination, THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE.

Also, after reblogging a few posts, the beta version of this site breaks, and doesn’t open a post tab to add commentary or even tags. It just... reblogs the untagged post with no warning whatsoever. You know... that’s really really not cool. I tag EVERYTHING. Well, almost everything. The tags are the only way to keep track of the 40k+ posts on my blog. And warn people that I am posting potential spoilers, or other specific content. It’s REALLY inconvenient to have to either immediately go to my blog to edit the post and add tags, or even comments. The alternative is to scroll up to open individual posts I want to reblog in a new tab, and then reblog directly there. Ironically enough, THOSE pages actually open with xkit installed, and everything (surprise!) functions perfectly there.

It’s perfectly reasonable to understand why this specific issue has limited the number of posts I reblog. Reblogging content should not be this much of a hassle. Creators have been complaining for a while that reblogs have drastically slowed down, and I think making it even more annoying and difficult to reblog posts will not help this problem.

Also, with xkit enabled, there’s a function that auto-loads images as you scroll, so the images are always visible BEFORE they appear on screen. I don’t have to look at the colored boxes and wonder if this is a post I’ve already seen or something I should sit and wait for. Don’t even think about watching tumblr videos. Loading priority is given to the ads that you cannot pause or dismiss, so that video loads and plays in choppy two second bursts instead of being given priority. Since that’s the content I am actually here to consume, it kinda makes me want to do the opposite of patronizing anyone who advertises here with graphically intense ads. And then when you scroll away, with xkit, gifs and videos you’ve scrolled past STOP loading and playing, which I think might be contributing to the intensity of the resource hogging that’s literally melting down my laptop.

And for reference, I have a pretty decent little gaming laptop. A blogging platform shouldn’t be driving it to the brink of frying itself. I didn’t realize just how much xkit worked to streamline this and provide basic functionality to this site.

*And lastly, if you're an XKit user, know that the XKit team is working hard to update things on their end to make it compatible with the beta dashboard.

And this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I’ve lost without xkit. And this is a really REALLY garbage response to user complaints. “Oh, yeah, sorry we made our site suck even worse, but those nice people who do our jobs for free will surely fix our garbage soon!”

Dear wonderful people at @new-xkit-extension, I love you, and I miss you, and while I wish xkit worked with this beta version I’ve been forced into living with, I truly feel for y’all who are trying to deal with this nonsense on behalf of all of us.

And to the folks at Tumblr... maybe try to just... make your site actually more like xkit. You know, actually functional. None of these special new features are useful or functional to me. I respectfully request for a fourth time to be removed from this inane beta test.

Give us OPTIONS. Let us display ALL THE TAGS without having to click a button. Let me have back my Activity+ that actually allowed me to interact with people from my dash! That showed me real-time inline notifications in a way that I could reply to with a single click! Bring me back to my column of open messaging conversation icons so I have easy access to the people I talk with throughout the day instead of closing them all every time I refresh the page. I already feel socially isolated in freaking quarantine, please stop shutting off all my avenues of communication!

Let us have pagination! I mean, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to force heavy users of this site into a beta version that doesn’t allow us to opt out until your engineers had actually figured out how to make it work in a very basic way.

*Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with!

YES. PLEASE REMOVE ME FROM THIS BETA TEST NOW. I have let you know exactly what I want from this site. I just want it to ACTUALLY WORK. For someone who spends 12+ hours a day on this site, this beta test version is NONFUNCTIONAL. PLEASE ALLOW ME TO OPT OUT. I AM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU. I WILL ACTUALLY PAY YOU CASH MONEY TO ALLOW ME TO OPT OUT OF THIS AND GO BACK TO HAVING A FUNCTIONAL BLOG AGAIN. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

PLEASE! 

I AM OFFICIALLY AT THE END OF MY PATIENCE FOR ENDURING THIS NIGHTMARE.

(one final quick note... I’ve only been back on my dash long enough to make the parenthetical edits-- i.e. adding italics that don’t display and then adding the asterisks at the beginning of each section of quoted text, and already my laptop is overheating again. For reference, I originally typed this entire post from within my tumblr inbox page-- which still functions normally with xkit-- and spent over an hour on it. My laptop was fine the entire time. Clearly the issue is this beta version of the website. I will never forgive tumblr if y’all fry my literal only portal to the outside world at this time. PUT ME BACK TO NORMAL NOW. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INFURIATING AND ENTIRELY UNACCEPTABLE. Thanks)

(oops apparently i lied... when the asterisks and the previous final note failed to display, I thought that seemed suspicious, and realized that I literally needed to refresh my entire dash in order to see edited changes. Funny how xkit enabled me to do that in real time, which is just another bit of functionality I’ve lost with this beta program. Please guys, this is really, really not working for me at all, just put it back.)

[beyondthetemples]

{{ “Be Honest” mun meme

{{ Questions list taken from here:

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/hellhaeths/182092480007

What would prevent you from following someone? Not trigger-tagging, or not using cuts for ns//fw scenes. (I have really intense emet*phobia, so if you don't tag for that, or won't tag for it upon request, I absolutely cannot follow. Savior catches most posts for me, even if they're not tagged, but there are just So Many Euphemisms and Various Ways to Describe It that it only works 75% of the time.)

Are aesthetics important to you? If they are, why? As far as blog theme, not really-- I just like fiddling around to find something that evokes their General Vibe, and seeing what themes other muns like! I won't judge by them though. When it comes to thread aesthetics, I actually prefer to leave them utterly unformatted and plain-text as possible. I have ADHD and Fancy Unicode and Symbols and All That makes it really hard for me to focus on what's going on in the thread, not to mention I don't have the attention span to match another mun's Styling like that. (Also, fun fact: I always have my Tumblr Dash at 75% zoom, and Dove’s theme already has text at a Very Readable Size, so nothing ever needs to be Smallified for me.)

What current rp trend do you hate? I don't think there are any I "hate", though I get confused on all the Different Verses that everyone has. (In all my years of writing fanfic, I've only ever written Exactly One (1) AU, and I never read them outside of rp. AUs just aren't my thing.)

How do you explain rp to someone in the real world? "Taking turns writing what the characters are doing." Everyone afk has been pretty supportive. (They all know I'm a writer, so like... it's Nothing New.)

Do you prefer interacting with male muses or female more? Why? I genuinely don't care either way! Guy, gal, nonbinary pal: as long as they're fun to write with, I don't mind a bit. (And Dove has no preference, either.)

Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why? Statistically, I have 3 female muses (4 if we count Evangeline as her own person and not just A Part of Dove Manifested)... and only 1 male. (And technically, both Srentha and Leyla are genderqueer, so it's really only Dove and Kary that are cis women.) But that's not intentional? Evangeline is feminine because Dove is feminine, and Kary was originally my girlfriend's-- if she was a male I still would've hardcore adopted him. It just kind of worked out that way. I just enjoy writing people, not gender roles.

Name any three things about the rpc that bother you. 1.) The aforementioned Verse Thing. (It doesn't really bother me, I'm just easily confused by Similar-Except-Vaguely-Different Things due to the ADHD.) 2.) Some people still don't know that godmodding isn't okay. 3.) The distaste for OCs??? I guess that doesn't exactly "bother" me either, because people are allowed to have preferences... but, I mean, I spent several years active in, and then Actually Running, a group of 1300 members on dA completely DEDICATED to OCs, and it was a blast, so I just don't understand why people don't like rping with them as much as canon characters. I personally find OCs more satisfying to explore, more surprising in every thread because you just don't know what to expect, and you have a LOT more freedom for plotting and reactions! Like! You can Shed the Constraints of Canon and Revel in your Newfound OC-Based Freedom!! Truly Become your Character's GOD!!!

What is your opinion on exclusivity? Do you practice it? Why / why not? Nah, I love the variety different muns can bring to the same muse! Other people can stay exclusive if they like. Being an OC mun, it doesn't exactly affect me. 8F

Have you ever had a bad experience with commissions? As either someone who makes them or as someone who buys them? (I don't really know how this pertains to RP?) But there was one time when someone gave me a really vague commission request, out of the blue, for a fandom I know absolutely nothing about, and just kept saying things like "Whatever you think they'd do!" when I asked for plot, characterization, or preference details... I never finished it because I Didn't Even Know how to START.

What do you know now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started? The reply doesn't have to be perfect. Or dramatic, even. Not every reply is going to shatter someone's heart or absolutely make their day. And that's perfectly okay!

Have you been involved in drama? Do you regret it? Nnnnot on Tumblr. (There was a LOT of drama amongst admins of the dA group, which strongly attributed to the decline of me RPing on dA, but I definitely do not regret standing up for myself. I do wish I'd been able to foresee it, though, and brought someone else on staff who was actually going to, you know, do the job they applied for?)

Have you ever thought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind? Never! Well not on Tumblr anyways. There was a period where my favorite partners were all going inactive, and I couldn't find anyone who wanted to interact with Dove, so of course I was despairing, wondering if I'd ever get to explore what I wanted to explore with her. But then I decided, you know what, so what if I can't find any canon Titans to advance her Tumblr timeline? I'll just fill in the blanks with fanfic canon, and work from there! Making that decision was so freeing.

Do you think rp has had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person? Oh, positive, absolutely. I may be too busy to really attend to it much nowadays, but my writing style has improved DRAMATICALLY, I've made so many friends, and I've learned things about Dove that I never would've discovered in the stories alone. (Or at least, it might've been discovered on a ten-year delay. 8F)

How has rp changed you personally? I was able to find fast friends, make connections with people over common interests, and my very first experience with leadership happened because I hung around a TTOC dA chatroom (because, specifically, I’d gotten ADDICTED to rp), came to love the people and characters, and decided, when the current admins had to step down, I would like to step up.

If you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why? I'd like tags to stop breaking, that'd be nice. (But that’s an issue with Tumblr itself, not the rps.)

Have you ever sent a message to yourself on anon? Why? Pff, no. Mostly because if I really want something to happen, I'll either post an open, OR I'll do what I'm doing here, and just answer the questions myself. 8F I have a lot of fun doing this with headcanon question lists.

Have you ever sent hate to yourself on anon? Why? No, but that's because I'm all about learning (+spreading) positive self-talk, de-escalation, and avoiding drama. Drama doesn't serve anyone.

Do you delete anon hate or post and address it? Why? I address it and then block the sender, because I want everyone to know I don't stand for that. And I have this stubborn streak about standing up for myself, so, you know... Gotta Address It First. (And I've defended Dove from Mary Sue accusations since I started posting about her in 2006, so it doesn't bother me, but I love pointing out all the reasons that, Jack Rider voice: You Are Wrong!)

Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with? Nope, but that's because if I can't or don't want to, I'm open and transparent about it. (Not on Tumblr, anyways. There was one particular person in the dA chats that kept trying to make RPs All About His Muse, but we shut that down too.)

Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to? Hell no! I've never Automatically Followed Back, and it's right there in my rules, I need a little communication before I start interacting.

What would make you block someone? Anon hate, reblogging/replying to rps that don't involve them, starting their own rps on my posts, Bad Takes in the Tags, shipping something I genuinely can't stand... I use the block button pretty liberally. I just don't need that stuff in my life, in my tags, or on my dash.

Have you ever stolen something from someone else? Well I have adopted a couple of headcanons re: Canon Characters from the teentitansheadcanons blog. (Like hc that, one time, Beast Boy was a bug and someone almost squished him, so now they put all the bugs outside, just in case. I love that for some reason, so I adopted it.) And every now and again I'll see something in fanfic I like: Azarath Has Two Suns, I saw that in a fanfic and it just felt so RIGHT, so I adopted that too. But, I mean, rping as an OC, there's really not a lot I can steal. 8F

Have you ever had something stolen from you? If so, how did you handle it? Not on Tumblr, but somebody once stole a picture of Srentha from dA and used it in a random webs-page blog about their dreams? ??? I have no idea why they used him, or how they even fOUND him, but I kinda just shrugged and let it go.

Are you open to duplicates? Why / why not? (Isn't this basically the same question as "are you exclusive"? Because I have the same answer. I am, because I like seeing other muns' interpretations of the same character.)

How do you feel about vague posting? Use your own judgement for your own blog, but it's not something I do myself. If I have to vaguepost to vent something, I'll usually go on a more private blog, or at least stick it under a Read More.

Do you follow people even if they don’t follow you back? Yes! I like reading rps almost as much as I like writing them.

Do you read people’s rules before following or interacting? Always.

What is your opinion on “reblog karma” and do you practice it? I try to! Sometimes I can't figure out what to send in for the blog I get in from, but most of the time, I'll send something any time I reblog something. I really appreciate it when people send something in before reblogging from me, personally. c: (I get it if you can’t or don’t want to. But it sure is nice!)

How have you responded to popular slang used on tumblr? Do you use it in every day life? Do you use it at all? Not really, but I rarely use slang at all. Unless I'm actually talking about rp, muses, muns, etc, then I'll use those words.

Is there something you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it’s supposed to be general knowledge? Was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain? I'm that Ravenclaw who always asks questions as soon as I encounter I don't know, and I don't use words without knowing what they mean. Kinda defeats the purpose of words that way.

Have you ever experienced discrimination? Well, Dove has, since people have that "I don't like OCs" mindset. Or "she's related to a canon character, so she's automatically a Mary Sue". It's not as big of a Discrimination as sexism or racism, don't get me wrong! But it HAS limited our scope of interaction, and I personally think it’s a little unfair to make judgments like that.

How do you feel about personal blogs following your rp blog? Go for it.

Have you ever cried while writing a reply? Mmmmaybe once? More often my heartrate just raises a little in an exciting moment, or I write out a ten-paragraph response in a one-hour fit of delighted manic wordsmithing, but I've definitely been touched. (I'm just... not very good at crying when I'm focused on writing. 8F)

Do you read other people’s threads or do you only read your own? There's definitely a bias towards my own! (Before my EHD died, I had about a hundred and fifty rps saved as word documents.) But I also enjoy reading others' threads.

What’s one thing that other people seem to hate that doesn’t bother you? Hmm...Spelling and grammatical errors. When I was copying chat rps to word docs, I started editing the replies for readability, and that habit kinda transferred to Tumblr, so when I'm not in a hurry, or I have an Unusually Long Attention Span, when I copy the replies, sometimes I'll just edit them, but I'm not mad about it. Just got into that habit.

How do you feel about tagging triggers? Do you tag them? How do you determine what is triggering content and what isn’t? It is absolutely ESSENTIAL for me to have triggers tagged for ME, so of course I extend the same courtesy to others. I don't presume to know what triggers people; I've made it very clear that if anyone needs something tagged, they just have to ask, and I'll tag it. No questions asked. (Though if they want to vent about it, I'm open to that too.)

What advice would you give to someone new to rp? Just GO for it! I know it can be scary and intimidating and overwhelming to see a great writer and think, "Gosh I want to interact with them So Much".. .and you know what, sometimes you will get rejected. Sometimes you just won't mesh with muns. Sometimes your characters don't have a very exciting dynamic. But you'll never find those Goldmine RP Partners if you don't at least ASK.

[someonesingingalong]

taxi (I)

elevate my heartbeat

- 

The neon lights from the local bar reflect onto the streets outside. The cool weather isn’t unusual for January, but the occasional gust of wind makes it feel like the temperature is dropping by the minute. Hope’s hands shake as she ends the call on her phone and returns it to her back pocket. She clasps her hands together and brings them to her mouth, blowing hot air in a poor attempt to remain warm. She regrets not grabbing anything else but her oversized sweater- usually, she stays out long enough to the point of overheating in an overcrowded bar, but tonight she’s turning in early. She lets out a yawn that turns into a visible puff of cold air and realizes that camp had been more exhausting than she originally thought it would be. She knows the first one of the year is always tough, with fitness tests and all, but Hope feels her. The influx of younger players isn’t necessarily a bad thing; they have pushed them all in different ways. Their team is getting faster and stronger each day, and while they still struggle to find chemistry, Hope is certain they’ll make significant progress in no time and be an even better team than the one in Vancouver. They have to be if they have any chance at earning another star.

 Hope looks at her watch; it’s a quarter past ten. Her ride back to the hotel should arrive within the next five minutes, but she can barely keep her eyes open. They just about flutter shut when she hears a door swing open followed by a stumble of steps. She’s mildly annoyed that she’s not alone anymore- she doesn’t have the energy for a conversation- but when she turns around, her expression softens. She can’t help it (she never can).  

“Hope, hey!” It’s Kelley, face flushed with a nearly empty drink in hand. She walks over and Hope feels her energy roll off in waves. She stands up a little straighter.

 “Hey.” Hope greets in return. A part of her knows it’s just in Kelley’s nature to be so approachable, so likeable. But another part of Hope wonders if there’s intention behind her actions. She wonders if her younger teammate purposely seeks her out; it’s more often than not that she finds the younger woman lingering around her, even if it’s just for a small fist bump or an exchange of looks. This thought alone is enough to make her palms sweaty. It shouldn’t, but there’s always been a lot of should nots between them. Should not have been roommates. Should not have been friends. Should not have left the after party in London, alone. Should not be alone tonight.

 “Where are you running off to?” Kelley asks, her eyes widening with an idea. “Wait no, I want to guess. Let me guess! Don’t tell me!” She grips Hope’s arm, as if her alarmed tone wasn’t enough.

 “Okay…” Hope says slowly, more concerned by Kelley’s hands and their potential to wander. She knows from experience.

 Kelley lets go though and brings her hand to her chin in a classic pensive look. Hope smiles at her dramatics, completely oblivious to the fact that Kelley’s actually serious about whatever game she’s trying to play. Hope doesn’t mind though; it’s killing her wait time.

 “Oh, I got it!” Kelley’s on her toes now, taking a step closer to Hope without actually touching. “You’re going to a coffee shop!”

 “Yeah,” Hope’s on auto-pilot, completely distracted by the distance (or lack thereof) between her and the shorter brunette. She quickly corrects herself, “What? No, Kell, what coffee shop would be open now?”

 “Well, I don’t know…I’m close though, right? You’re getting coffee, but at one of those gas stations, right?” Kelley shoots her finger guns, making some sort of clicking noise with her mouth.

 Hope stares at Kelley in disbelief. Sometimes it’s hard believing she graduated from Stanford. She reasons, “Kelley, why would I be getting coffee this late? It’s ten at night. Where do you think I’m going?”

 “Ahhh, yes, yes…I know exactly where you’re heading. It’s that place we all came from. You know, it’s like home but sorta not really home. There’s a bed with pillows and complimentary breakfast in the mornings and those really nice old men who greet you every time you enter or leave. It’s called, uhm…oh gosh, don’t tell me, it’s on the tip of my tongue…”

 “You’re joking right?” If it weren’t Kelley, Hope would’ve walked back to the hotel by now. Where was her damn ride?

 “Don’t tell me! I almost have it!” Kelley pauses shortly before giving up, “Okay fine, I give up. It’s too hard.”

 “A…hotel?”

 “YES! That’s it!” Kelley’s eyes shine like a kid on Christmas morning, completely unaware of her drink sloshing all over the place. “Yes! Thank you! I knew it. You and I, Hope-” She points between them wildly, “We’ve always been on the same page!”

 Realization dawns over Hope, she can’t believe how tired she was to miss this. Her response is flat. “You’re drunk.”

 “Am not!” Kelley shoots her a look, taking great offense.

 “Yeah, you are.” Hope bends down slightly, her suspicions confirmed as she gets a strong whiff of alcohol. “Give me that before you spill the rest of it.” Hope takes away her drink, grabbing her arm at the same time. “You’re going back inside before you wander off lost and it’s New Orleans all over again.”

 “Hey, I was not that drunk that night! I mean, we had to do Abby’s sendoff justice.” Kelley tries to struggle free, but after realizing she’s no match to Hope’s goalkeeping arms, she grins stupidly. She kind of likes it. Hope rolls her eyes.

 There’s definitely intention.

 Before Hope can drag her any further down the sidewalk, she sees an outpour of her teammates from the entrance to the bar. Alex is the first to spot them. “Oh, I found Kelley!”

 “You guys leaving already?” Hope tugs at Kelley, bringing her over to the rest of the group.

 “Well someone got us kicked out.” Emily glares at Carli, standing next to a timid Sam.

 “What karaoke bar does not have ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’? Absolutely ridiculous. That’s a classic duet!” When Carli’s riled up, the team can’t help but pick on her. It’s amusing- and it’s good for her.

 Becky smirks, “You’re just mad that we destroyed you guys at pool.”

 “No, I’m not! We deserve a second challenge. I vote for darts, but oh no, Pinoe insists on karaoke and you listen! We wouldn’t be here if we just stuck with darts. We never listen to Pinoe! Why would we do that now?!”

 Pinoe perks up from afar, hearing her name. “Keep your panties on, Carl!”

 Sam speaks calmly, “It’s really, okay, Carli…I don’t mind. It was just one game of pool. We can come back another time and-”

 “Are you giving up on me?!” Carli turns to Sam, sending her a look of betrayal. “We don’t give up. You understand? I’m tired and I want to be anyone else but here, but we’ve been challenged. We don’t give up ever.”

 Pinoe shouts back, “Guys, quit the bitching. Let’s go! Alex and Allie found us another bar, just a couple blocks down.” The three of them begin to lead the way.

 Hope sees a bright yellow taxi turn on the street (finally). “Oh, thank god. Guys, my ride is here. Take Kelley.” She gently pushes her forward.

 Sonnet looks at them, confusion etched on her face. “She’s not going back with you?”

 “Hey, that’s a great idea!” Kelley looks up at her, excitement building.

 “No, it’s a terrible idea.” Hope cuts off Kelley. She tries not to overthink the fact that her teammate would think she and Kelley were leaving together. Hope walks towards the taxi, placing a hand on the door handle. She’s close to her escape, but she can already tell things are only going downhill from here. “I’m going straight to bed when I get back.”

 “Now you’re talking.” Kelley winks, and Hope feels warmth rising to her face and she’s never been more grateful for the darkness outside.  

 “Look, she’s drunk- like too drunk- to come out with us anymore.” Becky points out, “Can’t you just make sure she gets back to the hotel in one piece?”

 “Oh no you don’t…” Hope shakes her head, now opening the door of the taxi. “You cannot just leave me alone with her.”

 “I’ll be good, I promise!” Kelley begs, her eyes widening almost to the point that Hope can’t say no.

 “See? She promises, Hope!” Becky chuckles and then continues seriously, “Please just take care of her for us, okay?”

 “Well of course I would.” Hope glares, resigning. She doesn’t know where the night is heading, but she also wants to find out. She beckons, “Okay, come on, Kelley.”

 “Really?!” Kelley’s eyes shine as she skips over to Hope. She gushes, “You’re so kind.”

 Carli is heard yelling at them to hurry up. Becky sighs heavily, “Okay we have to go before your best friend rips us a new one.” She fishes into her pockets, “Here’s our room key. I’m guessing we won’t be back or quite awhile. You can leave it at the front desk or I’ll probably just crash somewhere else. See you later!” She and Emily jog after the rest of their team.

 “Bye.” Hope barely gets out, before realizing and calling out, “Wait, Becky, why would you crash somewhere else?! I’m not staying with her!” She hears distant laughter and lets out a heavy sigh. She’s about to step into the car when Kelley startles her.

 “Curb! Curb!” Kelley’s pointing towards the ground at their feet.

 “Yeah, I know.” Hope says, “Come on, just watch your step.”

 “You watch your step.”

 Hope gives her a stern look, “Get in the damn taxi, Kelley.” She grips the younger woman’s shoulders, guiding her in.

 “Help! Help! I’m being kidnapped!” Kelley jokes, struggling against Hope’s touch until she’s well situated in the back.

 Hope apologizes to the driver, “Hi, thanks for waiting.” She leans further forward and whispers. “If you can get us back to the Marriott on 6th street in less than twenty minutes, I’ll tip you extra.”

 They begin to move and Hope notices Kelley fidgeting. She sighs, “Will you keep still?”

 “You’re no fun.” Kelley frowns, frantically touching everything all at once to spite her seatmate in the back.

 Hope yawns, “Please, I’m tired.”

 Kelley now occupies herself with the little button on the inside of the door handle. The window slowly rolls down, and then up….and back down….and back up. Hope closes her eyes and silently prays for patience. She hears Kelley and by the sound of her voice, she already knows her eyes are bright with no good. “Oh! I want this to be like that one movie!”

 “What movi--Jesus, Kelley! Get back in here!” Half of Kelley’s body is hanging out of the window, and she knows that if she doesn’t do something in the next ten seconds, their ride would include a visit to the emergency room. She reaches across the back seat to grab Kelley’s waist.

 “This is the dream!” Kelley shouts, the cool breeze sending her hair in all sorts of directions. She frowns as she feels herself being reeled back in. “Hope…” She whines loudly, “Let me live for a few more seconds!”

 “Sit down and I’ll let you live for the rest of your life.”

 Kelley struggles for good measure. She looks down at Hope’s strong grip, and when she lifts her head, a smirk forms. “You can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

 “No, I cannot.” Hope watches as Kelley’s brows wiggle, teasing her. She almost laughs, but keeps it together because- well, she’s an adult.

 “I think it’s nice.” Kelley’s cheeky smile is both irritating and cute.

 “Well I think it’s necessary.” Hope rolls her eyes, freeing a hand to reach around Kelley and roll the window back up. Kelley responds by hovering a finger around the button, the window going back down. “Roll it back up, Kelley, I’m cold.” Hope feels the temperature of the taxi continue to drop.

 “Well I’m h-o-double-t-hott.”

 “Not funny.” Hope’s expression is serious. When Kelley fails to listen, she raises her voice, “Quit playing with that!”

 “Okay, Mom.” Kelley sticks out her tongue in a childish manner.

 “Don’t test me.”

 “Fine, fine, I’m sorry.” Kelley puts her hands up apologetically, but there’s a spark of trouble still evident in her eyes. She clears her throat. “You can let go now.”

 Only now does Hope notice her hands, dangerously placed at Kelley’s hips. She lets go immediately without a word and moves closer to her side of the vehicle. She looks out the window and feels warmth creep up her neck. She hopes Kelley doesn’t notice (oh but she does).

 It’s quiet, but only for a minute. Kelley can’t stop playing with the zipper on her leather jacket and it’s not even that loud, but Hope hears it ringing in her ears. “Psst…psst…Hope?”

 Hope reluctantly turns her head to the side, whispering, “Yes, Kelley?”

 “Do you want to know a secret?” Kelley asks in a hushed whisper.

 “No, but you’re going to tell me anyways, aren’t you?”

 Kelley giggles, sharing, “I haven’t been this drunk since the World Cup.”

 Hope knows it won’t do any good trying to convince her otherwise so she brings a hand to her chest, appalled, “No! The World Cup?!”

 “Shhh! Shhh!” Kelley hushes her, moving closer to Hope. “Keep it on the down low! You can’t tell anyone.”

 “Your secret’s safe with me.” Hope promises.

 “Pinky swear?” Kelley adds.

 “I swear.”

 “No, Hope, pinky swear?” Kelley emphasizes, bringing her last digit of her hand up in front of Hope’s face. It’s ridiculous.

 “Kelley…”

 “Come on, you gotta do it! You gotta!” Kelley whines until Hope can’t do anything other than hook their fingers together to shut her up. Kelley literally has her wrapped around her fingers.

 Kelley, of course, is far from done. She sighs loudly, and then again and again. Hope sees their hotel in the far distance; she just needs to last another five minutes or so. “Do you have something else you want to say?”

 “Well, not really. It’s just…well, things were so different back then.” There’s a raw honesty underlying Kelley’s voice, and Hope wants to hear more.

 “It’s only been a year.” Hope responds.

 “Things were so good.” Kelley’s short statement makes Hope think. Kelley wasn’t wrong. They had been on top of the world- they still were, but in a different way. The road to Vancouver wasn’t an easy one, but when they arrived, it was like life had only just begun. They played like they never played before, and loved the game fiercely. They won, but they were hungry for more. They would have that chance to make history at Rio.

 Hope peruses, “I know you’re drunk right now, but if we’re going to have this conversation, I’m going to need a little context around ‘things’.”

 “Everything. The tournament, the team, my role on the team-”

 “Hey, you’ve earned your starting spot.” Hope cuts her short. She doesn’t understand why Kelley’s still second guessing herself.

 “Sure. Maybe.” Kelley looks down, shielding herself from Hope’s intense stare. She asks timidly, “But am I ready?”

 “You’ve been ready since London. You played every minute with me. I know, Kell, you’re a good player.”

 “But the team is so different now. I just don’t feel connected to as many people as I did back then. I don’t know who I can lean on, both on or off the field. I can’t juggle a relationship outside my career. It’s too hard and I…I’m going to die alone.”

 Hope watches Kelley’s insecurities unfold in front of her, escalating at a rapid pace. She knows she’s not exactly coherent at the moment, but she knows that these thoughts are coming from deep within nevertheless. She confronts her, “Whoa, slow down. You are not going to die alone.”

 “How do you know?” Kelley stresses.

 “Because…” Hope is careful with her next words. “Because you’ll have me.” The instant flicker in Kelley’s eyes makes her realize that she hadn’t been careful enough.

 “Oh! Oh-”

 “No-”

 “-Oh! I have an idea.” Kelley scoots unbelievable close, her voice low. “If we’re both like 40 and still single, we have to get married, okay?”

 “Yep, there it is.” Hope knew this conversation was inevitable, especially with Kelley in such a state. She plays along for the second time- somewhere along the ride, she’s given up on fighting all logic and reason. “Let’s elope in Vegas. That’s one everyone does!”

 “That’s what I was going to say! I like it! Quick and dirty!” Kelley grins, and Hope’s breath hitches. “You know what, Hope? You are my soulmate.” Hope can’t help but laugh, now that finger guns are involved. Kelley smiles, too, cocking her head to the side, “What’s so funny?”

 “You are hammered.”

 “I am not! I mean it, Hope, I really do. You’re my soulmate!” Kelley’s voice increases in volume.

 Hope makes eye contact with the driver in the front, and he’s laughing with them. She shifts her look back to Kelley. “I’m sorry, Kell, but I’m kind of taken.”

 “Only kind of?” Kelley tests.

 “I’m very much taken.” Hope repeats, holding her hand up and pointing to her ring. “See?”

 “Oh.” Kelley deflates back into the seat. She realizes, “So I am going to die alone.”

 “No!” Hope wants to chuckle, but she keeps her tone at bay. “No, you won’t, I promise. You have me-as a friend,” She quickly clarifies, her eyes softening. “You will always have me.” Maybe it’s the way Kelley looks back at her or maybe it’s the sudden realization that their night was just beginning that causes her heart to pound against her chest, but she had spoken the truth. She meant every word.

 “Thanks, Hope.” Kelley’s hands are now playing with the ends of hers sweater (Hope’s not at all surprised). “You’re pretty lucky, you know, to have found your soulmate.”

 Hope just stares at Kelley. She truly was. But she finds herself telling her, “Marriage isn’t all that it seems, Kell.”

 “No.” Kelley refuses to believe, “No, it has to be with you. Anyone would be so lucky to be with you.” Hope doesn’t know how to answer; she’s in no place, anyways. Kelley’s hands have ventured to her legs now. She swallows, “Your hands, Kelley.”

 Kelley responds nonchalantly, “I know.” She winks. “Now, we’re even.”

 Hope is wide awake now. The taxi driver announces their arrival and Hope quickly fumbles with cash in her wallet. She grabs Kelley’s hand, leading her up the steps and through the lobby. The elevator ride is incredibly long- Hope spends the entire time prying Kelley’s hands away. They really shouldn’t be left alone any longer.

 Hope finally opens Kelley’s hotel room. She sighs in relief. They had made it back without any problems (yet). She busies herself with tidying things around the room, telling Kelley, “Get ready for bed.”

 “Now you’re talking.”

 Hope freezes, deciding no response is the best response. She continues around the room until she hears Kelley. “A little help over here?”

 Hope turns around, and she realizes that maybe she shouldn’t have let Kelley get ready alone. She sighs, helping her take off her shirt. Hope tries not to look, hastily tripping over a pile of clothes on the way to the bathroom. She fills up a glass of water and rummages for a bottle of aspirin. She returns and Kelley still doesn’t have a shirt on. Go figure.

 “I can’t find a clean shirt.” (No shit, Kelley.) She looks at the items in Hope’s hands. “Are those for me?”

 “What?” Hope can only stare before blinking back to reality, to responsibility. “Oh yeah, yeah…it’ll help with the hangover in the morning.” She puts everything down on the nightstand.

 Kelley slowly climbs into bed. “Thanks for taking care of me, Hope.”

 “You can thank me when you have a shirt on.” Hope turns around again, looking for a clean shirt- or really, a dirty one would do at this point. She hears Kelley climb back out of bed, and she feels her dangerously close.

 “I don’t need a shirt.”

 “You—you’re going to get cold.” Hope stutters. The minute she turns around it’s over.

 “It feels pretty hot to me.” Kelley replies huskily, placing her hands on Hope’s hips. Now, she really can’t concentrate.

 “F-found it! I found it! Here!” Hope whips around, taking the shirt and pushing it against Kelley’s chest.

 Kelley doesn’t move, their faces only inches apart. She places a hand on top of Hope’s, still holding the article of clothing in place. “I’m not saying this because I’m drunk right now, but I love you, Hope.” She steals a quick glimpse at her lips. “Like a lot.”

 “I…I know you do.” Hope barely gets out, amidst a swirl of responsibility, excessive pining, and desire. Hope feels Kelley’s touch fueled by the alcohol coursing through her veins; it commands her to no control. All Hope can think about now is that Kelley’s body is pressed up against her own and that she wants her- sober.

 The t-shirt falls to the floor.

[darlingpetao3]

The Assignment (H.R. Wells x Reader, Chapter 4/4)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Locating the cell block takes longer than expected, seeing as you've never actually set foot in this part of Headquarters. You never had a need to. Once a fugitive was caught, your job was done. Time to move on and find the next.

But you were not done with this one.

The familiar looking guard standing intimidatingly in front of the door you need access to eyes you up, trying to spot potential danger. But after realizing it's you, he loosens up.

“(Y/N), working late?”

“Yeah, my latest mission came with a lot of paperwork,” you lie. “I'm here to give my no-longer-fugitive a piece of my mind about the stuff he tried to pull... You know, before-” You make a slicing motion with your finger across your neck. The guard makes a face like he's impressed with your apparent ruthlessness.

“Hardcore,” he nods. “But I'm not supposed to let people in. It's kinda the whole point of my being here.”

“Listen-” you start, still totally blank on this guy's name. “Man. I'm on your side, here. I hate these good for nothing criminals, too. I only need to put this guy in his place before it's too late and I have all this rage bottled up forever. Can you help a chick out? Just this once?” The guard seems to be buying your pissed-off role because who would ever suspect you of double crossing the people you work for. The one who loves rules and making things right.

He thinks it over for a second.

“Cell B-14. Make it quick,” he says. “And really give it to him.”

“Oh, I will.”

He glances down the corridor, both ways, before swiping his key card and opening the heavy duty door. It shuts loudly behind you and leaves you in a long dark room with prison cells along each side. You squint trying to follow the indicated letters and numbers on the walls. Finally: B-14.

“H.R.,” you whisper into the lightless cell, gripping the cold bars keeping you from getting in. “H.R., it's me.” You hear a shuffling noise on the ground inside.

“(Y/N)?” he answers. “Am I dreaming?”

“No. No, H.R. you're not.” He scurries over to you and wraps his hands around the bars like you are. “I'm here to get you out.”

H.R. shakes his head. “I don't understand.”

“I'll explain later.” You concentrate on making a breach inside his cell. “Jump in, hurry.” Although he still looks incredibly confused, H.R. does so anyway and appears behind you out of the portal. You turn around and he takes a step toward you, diminishing the gap between you. So close...

He searches your eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you-”

“STOP!”

Shit.

The guard has caught you red handed. Protocol calls for him to alert the entire vicinity of the escape of a criminal and, in addition to this, your betrayal. You sprint toward him halfway across the hallway of cells and lunge for him, trying to deter him from pressing the alarm button. He dodges you at the last second. Pretty fast for a big guy. Your wide eyes witness his hand smash the big red button like it's progressing in slow motion. A brutally loud alarm goes off overhead and now you're panicking. The guard makes a beeline for you but you take a play out of Gypsy's book.

With your dominant hand in front, you concentrate on your inner power. You immediately jump through the portal and come out on the other side of the raging guard. You throw your arm around his neck from behind and resist his attempts to free himself. Slowly but surely, he falls to the ground, you with him, unconscious.

“Is he...?”

“No. He'll be fine. Now let's get out of here!” You take his hand and run back out the door from which you came, only making it to the end of the corridor before crashing into a full-on sprinting body around the corner.

“G?!” you yell over the alarm. What is she doing here?

“(Y/N), the fugitive? Are you kidding me?!”

“It's H.R.,” he tries to clarify in the background. Gypsy ignores his comment and continues.

“I had a feeling it was you when I heard the alarm, I just didn't want to believe it.”

“G, it's all so hard to explain, but I cannot leave him here. I just can't! It’s killing me.” You plead with her only using your eyes even though you think it may be pointless. When it comes to Collectors' Law, Gypsy never wavers. The clunking of boots grows louder each second, echoing from beyond the maze-like hallways.

“Go.”

“What?”

“Go! I'll lead them the other way.” You do as she says and communicate a wordless thank you. She nods in return.

“I'll miss you,” you say, knowing full well you won't see her again after this. Whether it be from hiding for the rest of your life or death by the Master Collectors.

“I'll miss you, too,” Gypsy says in her I'm upset but I'm tough voice. “Nowmoveyourass!”

At that, you drag H.R. down and around the corner. Creating yet another finely working portal, you make sure he goes through first and you leap in after him. Rain greets you on the other end, though not heavily. You find yourselves in the orange glow of the lampposts outside S.T.A.R. Labs of Earth-One. At last, sanctuary.

You start to make your way to the Labs, but a noise catches your attention behind you. The beginning of swirling blue matter appears in the air.

“H.R. run!” you yell at him and point to the Labs. “Get inside, now!” H.R. hesitates, but at seeing what you had seen, he does what you ask, though not fully wanting to. He keeps looking back as he runs, clearly distressed at leaving you behind. A pulsed shot of energy hits you and you fall on your stomach onto the wet pavement. A manhandling pair of hands restrain you with cuffs.

“This was your last mistake,” your captor says coldly. “Get her up. And find the author.” More hands find you and now you know exactly who has come for you:

All five of the Master Collectors.

This is it. They have come to take you in. You had to face it now – you were a Rogue Collector. And once one has been caught, there is no hope.

No hope, that is, until you hear H.R.'s voice shout, “There they are!” A series of different voices follow:

“Wait!”

“Get your hands off her!”

“WE CHALLENGE YOU TO A TRIAL BY COMBAT!”

“For the possession of H.R. Wells and the Collector (Y/N)!”

“If you think you can handle us!”

All advancing in a line of defence are five people, all clad in their respective superhero outfits. You feel like you know them all simply by looking at them thanks to H.R.'s rambling about them. There's the long-haired guy from before, donning special gloves and a high-tech pair of glasses. This must be Francisco. A woman stands next to him with hair so blonde it looks like the colour of snow and her eyes glow blue. Caitlin, perhaps? Then the girl in red and boy in yellow wearing speedster suits: It has to be Jesse and Wallace. So this last guy in red must be... what did H.R. call him again? Oh right, B.A.

“We assume you children would like the customary twenty-four hours to prepare?” One Master Collector addresses the team.

“Hell naw!” replies Francisco.

“We're settling this right now,” adds B.A.

“So be it,” says the Master Collector that bound you. What follows next is a series of vibe-blasts, coloured lightning streaks, and bursts of deadly ice. The battle is fierce and evenly matched. It seems almost impossible that anyone could come out of this alive. The fact that your life is now on the line along with H.R.'s and these perfect strangers are fighting with everything they have to keep you alive – It's all so overwhelming. All you can do is hug your knees on the ground and try to keep from looking at the monumental fight taking place before your suddenly teary eyes.

H.R. rushes up to you amidst the scene in front of you. His hands find your arms, gently making sure you're okay and not broken.

And even then, you yourself aren't sure.

“I want out, I can't do this anymore,” you finally confess into his chest. “I quit.”

“Good.” H.R. holds the back of your head and strokes your hair. “Because now you can stay here with me.”

“You're a criminal.”

H.R. face drops with a sadness at your words. “I know, I know. I broke one of the most sacred laws-”

“No. Not because of that. Forget that. You stole my heart, H.R. Believe it or not, you captured me.” Caught up in the moment, in everything you've been through, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. Deeply, with everything you've got, pouring every ounce of I'm sorry for everything and Why couldn't I see this before? and Please don't leave me from your body. The rain continues to pour down. H.R. holds you tight throughout it all. At one point, he whispers, “Look.”

Each member of Team Flash has a Master Collector in a various degree of being restrained. None of the colourfully clad heroes seems to be taking advantage of the “killing your opponent” aspect of the trial by combat.

“Why aren't they...?”

“That's not what we're about here at Team Flash,” H.R. says quietly but proudly.

Team Flash let the Master Collectors free. Your former employers call to you with hostility.

“You're finished!”

“Don't even think of showing your face back home!”

Earth-Nineteen is no longer my home.

The defeated five leave Earth-1 in an angered huff. You've never felt so relieved in your whole life. Your heroes come to check on you and H.R.

“I don't know how to thank you all,” you say. The girl in red, Jesse, helps you up from the ground.

“You don't need to,” B.A. assures.

“It's what we do,” Wallace says happily while crossing his arms.

“What am I going to do now?” you wonder aloud.

“H.R. has vouched for you and that's good enough for us,” says B.A “He's a pretty good judge of character.” Does this mean? You look to H.R. (who nods enthusiastically) and throw your arms around him. He says so only you can hear, “Welcome to Team Flash, (Y/N).”

[joly-and-the-satellites]

So uhm College AU? Grantaire running against Enjolras as President of the student government just to piss him off but Grantaire actually wins and he panics because "this wasn't part of the plan Bossuet stop laughing!" And he ends up asking sour Enj for help.

((Hopefully this is alright, anon!!))

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was just a joke, for the love of god - just a harmless, playful little jest to get Enjolras’ attention, and maybe rile him up a bit. It was Grantaire’s favorite pastime, after all; and something he was rather skilled at, if he said so himself. The point stood, regardless of his talent: running against Enjolras for the position of Student Government President was nothing more than a joke. Hell, he’d even treated it as one - he wasn’t serious in the slightest, never dressed the part, was never on time, didn’t put up any posters asking for the votes of the other students… whereas, predictably, Enjolras was taking it all in stride with a certain solemnity; the exact opposite of Grantaire’s approach. He was clearly doing all he could to secure the position for himself - which was more than any of the other runners were doing by a mile. There was never a doubt in R’s mind that he would win by a landslide come election time; which was the deciding factor in whether or not he’d run against him. Enjolras already had it, as far as he was concerned. Which was why, when it had been announced that Grantaire had been named President, he’d choked on his drink to the point of scaring Joly into thinking he’d somehow managed to drown himself. Now, Grantaire was sitting on the edge of his bed, wine bottle in hand, wide-eyed, and struggling to fully grasp the situation. It was absolutely ridiculous.  Sure, he was sociable with others, got into less altercations, and was generally more laid-back and involved in things outside of politics than Enjolras; but that hardly meant he was President material! He was a far cry from it! He was no problem-solver, nor was he well-informed on the concerns and questions of the student body, as a whole or as segments; and he didn’t even understand what it all entailed! Did he have powers? Could he actually do anything with his title? Was he suddenly going to flooded with questions from other students? Would it give him any leeway if he turned an essay in a few hours past due? Grantaire ran a hand through his already unkempt hair, and took a swig from his bottle. “I cannot believe,” he started, only to be cut off by a snort from Bossuet, who sat next to him. He shot him a disbelieving glance - the other had a hand over his mouth to hide a mirthful grin, but his eyes were shining with laughter he was barely holding back. “I cannot believe - they elected me! What the fuck!?” Grantaire groaned in sorrow. He was nowhere near drunk enough for this. Bossuet broke into honest laughter then, shaking his head and wiping at his eye as if he’d teared up. R gaped at him, lowering the bottle to the floor before he turned to face him. How could he laugh!? This was an absolute disaster! “This wasn’t part of the plan, Bossuet!” He protested; this time, Bossuet snorted. Joly, who was at the desk typing up a paper on his laptop, snickered under his breath this time. Grantaire whipped around to face his other friend with a look of shock. Joly cast an innocent glance over his shoulder before he went back to typing, but his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Grantaire couldn’t believe this betrayal from his own best friends! It was treason! Dissent in the ranks! “Stop laughing!” R said, exasperation clear in his voice. “Alright, alright - I’m sorry!” Bossuet grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. It was exceedingly obvious, Grantaire decided, that he was not at all sorry. “It’s just… you were kind of asking for this, ‘Taire.” R was sure he was gawking at him; but he could safely say that his confusion was perfectly reasonable. There was no logical explanation for why R had won the election - but that hardly mattered now. Now, he was stuck with the aftermath; and more importantly, how he was to deal with it. He had responsibilities now that he wasn’t even aware of, he was sure, and he’d feel a bit stupid if he were to ask a staff member what his own job was supposed to entail. But he couldn’t travel through time, and he couldn’t call it off, or pass the job along to someone else– Grantaire grabbed his bottle from the floor again. “This is insane,” he groused. Joly leaned back in his chair with his arm slung over the armrest, the wood creaking faintly. He raised an eyebrow at Grantaire, seemingly doing all he could to withhold a smile. “He isn’t wrong, R. You knew the risk you were taking,” he informed him, a little giggle slipping out between his words. “Maybe you should just call Enjolras, admit that you don’t know what you’re doing, and ask for his help.” Grantaire choked on the wine he was gulping down at that suggestion - Bossuet, ever helpful, whacked him squarely between the shoulders. Grantaire ended up coughing. “For a doctor, you’re causing your patients a lot of problems,” Bossuet teased as R finally caught his breath, grabbing a half-emptied water bottle sitting on the bedside table instead. Joly shrugged a shoulder playfully, turning back to his laptop with a shake of his head. “I’m only saying - you need someone’s advice, R, and Enjolras would definitely be willing to help. Besides, he’s still a little bitter about the loss. Maybe this could gloss things over with him…?” Grantaire sighed heavily at that, dropping his head onto Bossuet’s shoulder for support; the other patted his shoulder sympathetically. Yet another downside to winning this horrendous election. Enjolras had suspected that Grantaire was only antagonizing him by running; and no doubt, he was probably more than just a bit upset about losing it to him in spite of his best effort. He had sent a short, too-formal ’Congratulations on the win.’ that morning, and he had not seen a single text or call since - apparently, neither had anyone else, with the exception of Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Grantaire liked to get him riled up, yes; but he didn’t like to make him angry, let alone upset. For all Enjolras was undoubtedly annoyed then, R knew he was at least a little morose about losing, and the knowledge was tearing him up a bit. He hadn’t intended to win; and never would he intend to cause him any dismay. But if he called now - admitted that it was all a joke gone wrong, that he had no idea what he was doing and couldn’t handle the duties of President on his own - Enjolras would be furious, and rightly so. Grantaire finally insisted, “I can’t call him.” Bossuet took a deep breath, leaning back on his hands - R followed the motion seamlessly, too distressed over the situation to bother with sitting back up. For all that their advice seemed impossible to follow through with, he was incredibly thankful for their presence here. He couldn’t ask for better friends than these two. “I agree with Joly-” “Thank you.” “-you really should call him. Whatever you think will happen, it won’t; I promise,” Bossuet assured him. “He might be a little annoyed, but he’s not going to hate you for asking for some advice. Just trust us on this one, alright…?” Grantaire glanced at his phone, which was sitting by his pillow; he had a handful of texts that he hadn’t yet responded to, almost all of which were concerning his position as President of Student Government… aside from some link to an undoubtedly ridiculous video Joly had sent him ten minutes ago. His head was suddenly filled with the thousand routes this scenario could follow. Enjolras might be furious. He might be annoyed. Maybe he’ll hang up. Maybe he’s blocked R. Maybe he won’t answer at all. Maybe… Bossuet nudged his shoulder lightly, as if hearing his doubts. Grantaire gave a heavy sigh, grabbing his phone as if sentencing himself to death as he shot Joly a rueful look. “I don’t understand why you’re always right.” Joly gave him a too-sweet smile, batting his eyelashes at R as he unlocked his phone. He pulled up his contact list - Apollo was the first name. He tapped the name, opening it up; but he just couldn’t bring himself to press the call button. His eyes wandered to the contact picture - one he’d snapped at a protest a year or so back, where Enjolras was holding a pride flag high over his head and above the crowd, his hair illuminated by the midday sun. God, he was stupid. Bossuet reached over, fast as lightning, and pressed the call button. R felt his heart stop as he scrambled to end the call, fumbling with the phone and almost dropping it. “Bossuet!” He screeched in horror, much to the amusement of the other two. Luckily, he hung up before anyone could answer - and he immediately shot the other a look of mock-annoyance before tackling him, almost throwing them both onto the floor. Bossuet pulled R’s hood up over his head and yanked the drawstrings shut with a laugh, pushing him back by the face. Temporarily blinded, Grantaire flailed to smack his hand away with a laugh, struggling to pull the hood loose and back from his face…… and his phone was playing Enjolras’ custom ringtone. Suddenly, the room was in dead silence, save from the phone’s tune. All of them swiveled to stare at it at once. Enjolras’ picture was on the screen - he was calling back. “… Joly, my love, text Bahorel, please.”“Why…?”“I need to know if R can legally kill me for this.”“Yes, probably.”“I’ll leave my lucky socks to you.”“Those socks are not lucky.”Grantaire was running on auto-pilot when he took the call; maybe he was a bit more drunk than he’d first believed. He held the phone up to his ear almost cautiously, glancing between the two as if they could offer him any help. Joly have a guilty smile, and Bossuet shrugged helplessly. “Hello? Grantaire, can you hear me?” Enjolras asked from the other end of the call. He didn’t sound upset, nor did he sound annoyed - but he was definitely on the fence of both. Grantaire cleared his throat nervously. “Uh… yes. Yes, I am hear you.” “You called me and hung up before I could answer,” Enjolras stated. “Butt dial,” Grantaire said quickly. “I sat on the button.” “Grantaire.”“Anyway, how were classes today? Anything interesting happen? Any essays? Projects?”“Grantaire.”“Yes?” He croaked. “Why did you call?”Silence overtook the call for a moment. Oh, no. How was he to explain this? He hadn’t had any time to think over what he would say, how he would ask, what he’d do if Enjolras didn’t take the request favorably–“Is something wrong?” The other asked, much more softly. Grantaire was so taken aback by the question that he couldn’t quite respond; he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing properly for a moment. “Are you alright? I can be over in five minutes, R, give or take-” “No! - no, it’s alright,  really, you don’t need to come over. I, uh… I’m perfectly fine. Nothing’s wrong. But I… might need help with something.” There was another break of awkwardly heavy silence, and Grantaire was suddenly very aware of Bossuet watching him in nervous anticipation. Enjolras sounded guarded when he next spoke, a certain edge to his words. “With what?”Grantaire took a deep breath to steel himself, feeling as if his face was burning. God, this was embarrassing - maybe he’d stop picking at him after this. (He knew he wouldn’t, but it seemed a sound solution.)“I… don’t think I can actually be President of Student Government, because I’ve got no idea what my responsibilities are and I didn’t intend to actually win or be taken seriously…?”Silence dragged out unbearably. It felt like seconds were crawling by at the pace of an elderly snail. R, for a moment, wished he would have just lied about it, or made something up on the fly. That would have been much easier than whatever hell he was about to unleash. “Unbelievable,” Enjolras said shortly. He didn’t sound furious; he wasn’t raising his voice. But then again, he didn’t need to. His tone said enough. He cringed. There was the fire and ice Grantaire was expecting. “You do know that any sort of election within the student body isn’t to be treated like a joke, correct? This was serious. I was serious.” Enjolras continued on. R ran a hand through his hair, shoulders slouching like a scolded puppy. “Yeah, I know. But… for what it’s worth, I didn’t think I had a chance in hell at winning. I was so sure you’d already won it,” he replied, hoping he wasn’t just feeding gasoline to the flames. Enjolras sighed sharply; Grantaire could almost imagine him rubbing at his temple to push back a headache. Wrong move on his part, apparently. “So what do you need to know?” Enjolras asked, his tone clipped and words short. Oh, you’ve put your foot in your mouth this time, Grantaire thought to himself bitterly.

“Well… I was really thinking that maybe you could just… help me do the right thing?” R started, trying not to sound too hopeful. Maybe if he took the right approach, Enjolras wouldn’t be so sour with him; maybe he’d convince him to help and patch things up between them a bit in the process. “You know better than I do what the other students need, I mean. You’re more in touch with what’s wrong, what’s unfair, what needs fixing; I just thought that… well, that you could help guide me along…?” The air was filled with the anticipation from his friends, and worry from himself; he could hear his heart drumming away as if caught between his ears, and could almost see Enjolras, sitting in his own room, phone in hand while he considered the request. Finally, he gave an annoyed huff. “Fine. But you had better not run against me next year, R.”Grantaire grimaced. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”“… I’ll be over soon. I’d rather talk in person than over the phone,” Enjolras announced. He sounded a bit aggravated, but nowhere near as incensed as he’d been before - really, he just sounded exhausted with the whole situation. R was hoping that was an improvement, if nothing else. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best person in the world, Apollo?” Enjolras immediately went back to his long-suffering, exasperated tone.“Please, don’t.”“No, really.”“R, I’m hanging up.”“Oh, come on! What will it take? Do I have to serenade you? Take you to a romantic dinner? I hear that the restaurant down on–hello? Enjolras?”“Did he hang up on you?” Joly cackled, already closing his laptop to leave. “No,” Grantaire argued childishly. “He lost service, that’s all.”

[markkahn-blog]

Are We In Control Of Our Lives?

When I first studied at university many years ago I was fascinated by the concept of free will versus determinism.

Are we in control of our lives or are forces outside of our control running us?

Are our personalities determined by nature – genetics – or the environment we grow up in – nurture?

A man with the unusual name of Burrhus Fred Skinner, the architect of behavioural psychology, was someone whom I rejected completely.

He horrified me to my core.

Skinner elaborated on the work of Pavlov and his dog which illustrated that all of our behaviour is conditioned by previous events.

In short, he said, we have no control.

I’m thinking to myself, “I’m going to be a psychologist, I have to believe in nurture and not nature, otherwise how much impact am I going to have on people?”

Entropy vs Syntropy

I think the idea was also horrifying to me because I had so much anxiety and depression, that to believe this was determined by something beyond my control left me feeling that there was nothing I could do about it. No one told me about the concept of syntropy.

Entropy says that all systems become more disordered and break down.

Syntropy says that creativity and higher levels of organisation emerge too, which means we transcend our conditioning.

Creative and destructive forces are an ongoing part of reality.

Over the years I have slowly come to believe that indeed we are significantly determined by factors beyond our control.

I would like to share my reasoning with you.

Can We Choose Our Destiny?

I was recently engaged in a discussion with some friends where they shared the idea that one can choose to take responsibility for one’s life. So the argument that they are presenting is that we are free to choose our behaviour, our thoughts and emotional response to any given situation.

Just take a look at yourself.

Ask yourself how many of the issues that you have worked on mentally and emotionally over the years have you changed?

My experience says that maybe we are successful with 10% or 15% of these issues, but what of the rest?

Some years ago I made a list of all of the areas of my life where I was still a victim. There were about 20 basic issues in the list and believe me I had spent thousands and thousands of hours working psychologically and spiritually on these issues and they were still there, unchanged.

I jokingly called this my immovable block of pathology.

Which is not to say that I haven’t grown immensely in many areas.

I recently did a process, which I had first done 3 years ago, in which one checks the ways in which our parents still push our buttons.

I had none.

It was very gratifying.

What I am saying however is that there are certain aspects of my psyche that have been totally beyond my ability to change up to now.

I am sometimes misinterpreted as judging myself for this.

What’s really interesting is that nobody stops to ask me if I am judging myself. They just assume I am.

The answer is I’m not.

I’m simply stating a fact that many aspects of my being have been totally out of my control to alter and I would state that the same applies to you.

And then, outside of yourself, there is the rest of the world. Friends, your intimate partner, your kids, government, your genetics, nature and the general course of history. How much power do you have to control them and that?

Death

We live in denial for much of the time in our lives. We are pretending to ourselves that a whole lot of negative emotions just don’t exist, which makes us feel like we are in control, when in fact we are not.

Take the idea of death.

Most people, tell me that they’re only afraid of the pain of dying and not the actual fact of being dead.

I will sometimes ask them if I were to put a gun to their heads and tell them that I’m going to shoot them and that they will die immediately without any pain, are they telling me that if I hook them up to a blood pressure machine and a galvanic skin response machine and to a heart rate monitor and an EEG maching, that when giving them this news of their impending death there will be absolutely zero reaction?

Of course not.

The reason I think that we are so frightened of dying is that we are so attached to the ego, our sense of identity.

Most people’s identities are locked into beliefs and values and roles that they play out in their lives.

So if you consider yourself to be an honest person or a reliable person, or somebody who has empathy, then if somebody criticises you and says you’re a liar or unreliable or that you lack empathy you are most likely to get very upset.

We have dozens of these qualities with which we identify.

At the most fundamental level we are identified with our bodies. So if you start to have a heart attack or you think you are going blind or the sensation in your legs disappears, the enormous anxiety most of us would experience is the ego, the sense of self that is being threatened.

To die probably means to lose the entire body and the contents of the mind and emotions. Which is why I believe this is such a frightening thing for anyone who isn’t spiritually Awakened.

The spiritually Awakened person is identified with spirit, not with the body or the mind or the feelings.

So the ultimate question around death and the loss of body and emotion and identity is, do I have control over my anxiety regarding this?

For most of us the answer is no!

Slaves To Conditioning

The conditioning which you have experienced around your identity, your ego, has predetermined your anxiety, it’s that simple.

You have almost zero choice in the matter.

In essence we are slaves to our conditioning.

Just about every anxiety and neurosis that you have was created by previous events in your life and if not that, then by genetics.

There is of course the field of epigenetics which says some genes can be changed through our environment and through the use of our minds, which limits this determinism to some extent, but how much can you access this ability?

Mothers And Their Kids

I cannot tell you how many mothers have brought their troubled kids to see me over the years and I have asked them when they first saw these difficulties in their child. The answers range from between the first week of birth, to the first three months of life. Which means that these kids were born with multiple challenges that they now have to manage throughout their lives.

They have no choice in the matter.

There are some writers and many motivational speakers who present the absurd notion that we can choose our thinking.

I find this utterly extraordinary that people can claim that they can control the thinking mind.

Of course some people can do this for a very short period of time. There are some meditators who can stop their thoughts and just become completely still with a very blank mind.

I think that’s about .01% of the population by the way – which is really fascinating because most people who have tried meditation tell me that they can’t stop their minds and so they give up meditating!

But those same meditators who can stop the mind while meditating lose this control as soon as they stop meditating, when the mind returns with a vengeance because the mind is a thought producing factory that functions 24/7 and is largely beyond our control.

There is in addition a price to pay for this shutting down of the mind. Many of these people repress a lot of negative emotions which then return big time.

Growing

One of the most important elements in being able to use psychotherapy is one’s capacity to grow. Over many, many years what I realised is that the people who do best in psychotherapy are the ones who want to grow the most.

And here’s the kicker.

Is the character trait of wanting to grow within your control or is determined?

I have the most extraordinary need to grow. For the last 40 years I have endlessly worked on myself psychologically and spiritually.

I think it’s just my personality I don’t think I chose it at all.I think it chose me and I think it’s the same for most people. I’m not saying that people cannot learn to grow or develop that trait and other traits, it’s just that this is not that common.

Brainworking Recursive Therapy (BWRT)

I was recently trained in the most revolutionary and powerful technique for working with specific incidents of trauma and stress that I have encountered in 35 years of practice.

The technique was created by a British man named Terence Watts. He had read about a piece of research from one Benjamin Libet a psychologist at the University of California in the US.

Libet received the virtual Nobel Prize for this work.

In 1983 Libet proved that we do not have free will in the way that we usually think of it. He asked people to note the moment that they decided to move a finger to mark the position of a moving dot on a clock face, while he recorded their brainwave patterns.

He discovered that the decision was made by the brain about one third of a second before the subject was consciously aware of it. In other words when the conscious mind decides to do something the brain has already made that decision beforehand.

In summary we do not have free will.

Conditioned patterns are set up in the brain that create decisions over which the conscious mind has little control. In this technique the therapist starts working with the most intense moment of emotion, before the thinking mind runs its story.

My first client was a woman of 60 who was sexually abused at the age of 10.

In 20 minutes we transformed the experience! I know that sounds unbelievable. But there you have it.

The effect on her life was immense. She said that she felt lighter and calmer than she had in years and hadn’t felt as warm and loving toward her husband in the last 7.

All of this in 20 minutes!

I worked with another woman who had never spoken previously to a large audience. She had to do a business presentation to 1,000 people. I watched the video of her presentation. She was unbelievably confident, relaxed, authentic and spontaneous. As her husband said to me, “She smashed it!”

Another client had been abandoned by women in two of his previous relationships. He had constant nightmares about his present girlfriend abandoning him. We did the process, again in about 20 minutes.

He had 2 dreams after the work, which were completely neutral i.e. none of the anxieties were there. Thereafter the dreams stopped completely. The anxieties dissipated.

I worked with the CEO of an IT company. He was very stressed by his work. We took his biggest stress, being deeply insulted by one of his major suppliers. Again this feeling of hurt and rejection was dissolved in about 20 minutes.

A month later he most fascinatingly told me that this supplier had started to be much more respectful toward him and said, “She is now ‘liking’ my Facebook posts!”

The process is also extraordinary in dealing with grief.

What’s fascinating about this work is that one of the reasons why we can’t change deep-seated emotional stress and trauma and pain is that we are trying to change it with the conscious mind, with the cerebral cortex, while the brain is already producing the negative emotions before the conscious mind is able to influence them.

With this technique we go right to the moment where the worst trauma or stress occurred and transform it from there. It’s truly astonishing.

Control and Self-Esteem

You might be asking at this juncture, “So what is the point of this discussion. So what if we have or do not have control”

My response to this is that the issue of control is fundamental to our well-being and happiness, to our Self-Esteem.

Why?

Well, you might have noticed how often I talk about how much we want to control the world, ourselves and our environment, 500 to 1,000 times a day in fact. If we are wanting to control everything so much and the reality is that we can’t, then an enormous amount of our energy is going into trying to do something which is bound to fail. That is going to have a devastating impact on our lives, yes? Failed attempts at control lead to stress, anxiety, loss of Self-Esteem and ultimately depression.

We do on the other hand appear to have come degree of choice. The world looks very different now from the way it did 400 years ago.

That is due to creativity.

Where did that creativity come from?

My sense is that it is Pure Consciousness that naturally and spontaneously creates ‘newness’, undetermined by the past. It is syntropy in action.What I am therefore recommending is that we honour the ways in which this creativity expresses itself while simultaneously surrendering to that over which we have no control. My experience in doing this is that it is liberation into freedom.

Celebrating Helplessness

 I recently created a process called Celebrating Helplessness.

Every client I have worked with using this process feels a lightness and a Stillness when they surrender to that over which they have no control.

I worked with a man whose wife had just left him.

He tried everything he could to get her back. I helped him to see that he was completely helpless in the face of her abandoning him. When he was trying to get her back he was lost in his desperate and helpless story of pain and anguish and trying to understand why she had left him. I helped him to acknowledge the complete helplessness he faced in trying to get her back.

He had tried everything he knew to get her back by the way and he had failed.

I then asked him to surrender to the helplessness that he was feeling around this issue and his entire energy transformed, the desperation disappeared. At times, out of habit, he would go back into the agony of his story of why she was doing this or that or not responding to him and I helped him to see that every time he left the sense of surrender he would freak himself out.

In other words as soon as he was trying to control something that was beyond his control he became desperate. When he surrendered to his lack of control he became peaceful and energised and still.

And so we get to the core of this blog.

When we surrender to our lack of control, what emerges is a great Stillness and the Stillness is not passive.

It enables a spontaneous and creative movement that is vital and alive and deeply spirited. And that Spirit is creative and is not determined or controlled by anything.

It is a great paradox.

To reach and connect with this energy requires a deep surrender to what is.

If you would like to pursue any of the issues raised in this blog in a face to face or Skype consultation, please contact mail me at realmark@icon.co.za

 To read any of Mark’s blogs, go to: http://loveyourselffornoreason.com/blog/