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tenthgrove · 3 years ago

Note

Soft Yandere Tizano and squalo

Yandere La Unita

Content Warnings: yandere behaviour, manipulation, abduction, forced dependency, violence, unhealthy relationships, the general existence of Dolcio Cioccolata.

Squalo and Tiziano

It isn't common for Squalo and Tiziano to interact with civilians. Or anyone really, since the pair are largely content with each other's company and nothing more. The sole exception to this is the necessary interactions that result from their frequent shopping trips, from which you, the cashier of their favourite boutique, came into play.

The pair observed you innocuously for many months, slowly learning practically everything that could be known about you simply from overheard conversations with colleagues. You dare say you liked them, even, as they were friendlier than your average customer and a familiar face to look forward too.

One day, Squalo sits Tiziano down and admits his attraction to you. It was meant to be an honourable confession, an honest admittance of wrongdoing to ensure no harm comes to the relationship. To Squalo's shock, Tiziano chuckles and announces he feels the same way. It's time the couple started to pursue you actively.

The defining feature of how Squalo and Tiziano obtain you is that it's calculated and smart. Squalo's happy to just walk up to you and ask for you to be together (or barring that, just abduct you), but it is Tiziano who convinces him otherwise. Not only would conventional methods of wooing you be unlikely to work, but they have practical concerns to worry about as well, being high-ranking members of the mafia. They're going to have to plan something a little more nuanced.

During a visit to your store, Squalo slips a little bit of paper into your pocket. You open it at home that evening to find your own address, along with several belonging to your closest friends and family listed out, above a message instructing you to come to a location of their choice the next day or they'll start paying these people visits. It's an outdoor restaurant in the middle of the city, where there's bound to be a lot of people. They don't want to scare you too much after all.

You arrive at the restaurant the next day on weak knees. Squalo and Tiziano thank you for coming, before introducing themselves in no uncertain terms as mafiosos who have taken an interest in you, and would like to start dating. You read between the lines that you don't have an option to say no.

However, the pair make clear the incentives to accept their offer are just as profound as the threats against refusing it. Are you in education? They're happy to support you in continuing it. Do you work? They have more than enough money to support you in reducing your hours or, if it's something you genuinely enjoy, bribing the right people to advance your career. Ultimately, Squalo and Tiziano know the carrot is just as important as the stick.

Thought you aren't forced to go home with them there and then, it soon becomes clear you're expected to sort your affairs quickly and move in within the next couple of months. From that point on, the couple will treat you as though you've been together for years, expecting you to address them as your partners as well.

Both Squalo and Tiziano are very touchy in their own ways, and while they would never force themselves on you, are more than happy to trail their hands up and down your arms early on. They are also both incredibly teasing, and will pick up on all your reactions.

The good news is that the level of freedom afforded to you is high from the get-go. Even from the beginning, you're allowed to maintain control of your finances and go out by yourself provided you tell them. Just be warned they'll occasionally check in on you by surprise to make sure you're actually where you said you would go. The one thing they do quite heavily police is social visits. The possibility of you revealing to someone they forced you to be with them is very acute, not that you would get very far if you did try to run away. It's not that you can't have friends, you just need to be very honest about who you're meeting and why.

Cioccolata and Secco

If Dolcio Cioccolata has taken an interest in you and his intentions aren't torture or murder, it can only mean one thing- you are someone very dear to him, and have been so for a long time. Chances are, you probably trust him a lot back. Cioccolata's gotten very good at acting normal around his respectable friends, after all.

The two main possibilities are that you know him as a family friend and became close through parties, or you're a chronically ill patient who found yourself in his care, and were lucky enough to avoid his scalpel long enough for a genuine mutual bond to form. It could be both. You could have fallen ill after knowing him for a long time. He could have made you ill.

As for Secco, Cioccolata will only pursue you as a lover with his consent. Cioccolata would never want his darling pet to feel neglected, after all, and for that reason it's only when Secco confesses a fondness for you that Cioccolata decides its time to make you his own. Secco is immediately very excited at the thought of you joining them, and for a while Cioccolata's main concern is actually stopping him from giving their plans away.

As much as Cioccolata would love to pluck you from your home, he knows that would only get him caught. The police are already after a serial killer with surgical knowledge, and taking you like that would just make him a suspect. So he does something more covert, he invites you over. You enjoy a lovely night gorging snacks and watching TV with your two friends, until Cioccolata invites you to the basement. As you go down, he snatches your phone and sends out the first of many messages designed to trick your family into thinking you've run away.

Waiting for you there in the basement, to your horror, is a functional operating theatre, complete with spatter after spatter of blood. You'll probably try to run, but the door is already locked. But don't worry, your blood won't be joining that on the table tonight. As Cioccolata explains to you as you cower in the corner, he treasures your bond very much, the tender feeling of what they call 'romance' that fills his heart whenever you look at him, the obscure sense of care for another human being. He won't be subjecting you to his operations.

That is, until your inevitable first attempt at escape. Although he'll still stop short of outright torturing you (providing a generous dose of general anaesthetic and subsequent painkillers) his 'alterations' to your limbs will lead you unable to walk or carry out fine motor skills. You'll be entirely dependent on his and Secco's care. As he assures you frequently, the changes are entirely reversible and you can have all your old mobility back with another operation and a little physical therapy, but for Cioccolata to give that to you, you're going to have to earn it.

Cioccolata keeps his promise to reverse the damage he did to you, but by the time that happens a lot has changed. He hasn't conditioned you to become like Secco as that would involve removing everything that first endeared him to you, but you're still going to have to become a lot more warmed up to him to trust you with your limbs back. At least you'll be treated like royalty in the meantime, even if you are still a prisoner. Cioccolata will remind you every day you're his darling pet, just like Secco.

Doppio

Doppio was never allowed to have lovers when the Boss was around. He found it a little hypocritical since the boss once told him he had a girlfriend, but he guessed he understood his reasoning and, either way, he would never question his boss. The boss is gone now, and Doppio has nobody to guide him anymore. He's alone and doesn't know what to do; even the old hideouts the new boss never found feel cold and empty, and Doppio can't bring himself to enter them. Then he met you.

You weren't quite sure what you were looking at, seeing a fine-dressed, disoriented boy stumbling around in the rain outside your window. Nonetheless, you knew he was in no state to be alone so you went out and approached him. When it was clear he had nobody to call, you invited him in.

As you leave him alone in the sitting room to make coffee, Doppio's mind is going in cartwheels. You've been so kind to him, and deep down in his heart something tells him the two of you were meant for each other. This could be his new start! Someone to rely on, to depend upon to give him purpose! But wait- if he leaves tonight he might never see you again! As he panics, Doppio decides he can't let that happen. He needs to have you tonight.

The second you return to the sitting room, Doppio pounces on you. As he frantically assures you that everything's going to be okay, you pass out from shock. You wake up in a strange house, tied to an extravagant bed. Your screams bring Doppio to your room. He quickly reassures you he isn't going to hurt you and is doing this so you can be together.

Doppio has some (i.e, a few million quid) money he was able to salvage from before the boss' fall, and he's going to use it however possible to please you. He will buy you anything and everything you desire short of freedom, making his own guesses about what you'd like if you refuse to talk.

His initial plan is to keep you locked up in that room (or at very least the wider house) forever, since it's safest for you and his old boss never went out much, but eventually he relents at your distress. He'll let you out eventually, if that's what it takes to make you smile.

On that note, the best thing about being Doppio's darling is how easy it is to turn the tables on him. Once you've behaved yourself for a while, having learned what keeps Doppio satisfied, it's very easy to become the dominant one in the relationship and make him let you do whatever you want. His sole desire is to serve you, after all.

#la unita #la unita speciale #la unita x reader #squalo and tiziano #squalo and tiziano x reader #cioccolata #cioccolata x reader #secco #secco x reader #vinegar doppio #vinegar doppio x reader #yandere cw #abduction cw #manipulation cw #violence cw

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bowtied-pasta · 4 years ago

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Soulmate marathon part 2

Its impossible to lie to your soulmate

Character: Ben

Working as the only full timer at a gamestop can really drive you wild. Between karen mothers that want to buy their baby boys the best there is because they deserve it to the frankly odd men that decide you were just fresh for the picking despite the fact that soulmates existed, youve pretty much seen it all.

Most customers are normal though, stereotypes not having been one to rule your town, the same can be said about your store. Well, not your store, but for tonight it is. The manager out of town on vacation, you were left in charge of the place for the week. Being entrusted with closing while another manager from the next town over was asked to open for the part timers to function during the day.

You almost always got to see the same customers, day in and day out. That being said, you definetly noticed the three new faces that walked into the store as the sun touched the horizon, making you glance at your watch. 6pm is what it read, a perfectly normal time for the sun to set around this time of year.

You could have been able to tell that the young men who walked in were new to the store just based on how they behaved when walking in, but you also see a lot of the same faces because of repeat buisness. All work has a pattern, it just takes a worker to figure it out.

You announce your presence behind the counter, telling them to take their time and to ask you any questions if they need any help with anything. They nod in confirmation and go about their buisness, looking for whatever it is that they had their minds set on when entering.

You continue checking all the stuff that the part timers left in their hurricane-like wake, they never did have the best organizational skills, and it never failed to set off your slight ocd. Always finding small things to adjust.

You begin logging into your till as you see them make their way over to you, each of them setting a few games down on the counter and you begin scanning them up.

“Did you guys find everything you were looking for?”

“No, but its fine. I know you wont have it, were stopping somewhere else for it.”

The one in the middle responded. The green beanie on top of his blonde headed self reminding you of Link, you suppose it would only be cemented by the taller, darker version of him that was standing right next to him. The last one ridiculously reminded you of a pokemon trainer, the clothes matching well with a certain mobile app that had come out a while ago.

You scan the last game and sigh a bit when a message pops up on the screen. Great... that god awful thing that nobody wanted to be asked for.

“Alright, which one of you is paying, because I need to see..... uh......”

As you were about to ask for an ID your screen blacked out for a moment, making you worry that the jacked up system had finally decided to crash, only for it to come back up and show you that an ID was no longer required. You frown at that, glancing at the game and seeing the rating that said M.

“Whats up?”

You glance up at the men, beanie smiling at you sweetly as if he knew something you didnt.

“Oh. Nothing, guess the computer is slow tonight. It almost had me asking for your ID.”

You smile at them as you shrug a bit, slipping the last game into the bag as you wrap up with checking them out.

“Alright, totals 260.... How are all of you doing tonight?”

Goth boy and pokemon dude, as you had mentally dubbed them, both gave shrugs and mumbled answers of being alright, but the guy in the beanie shocked you with his honesty.

“Im dead. Yourself?”

Goth boy and pokemon dude both whip their heads to gawk at the other, their eyes wide. Making you laugh a bit.

“Im certainly feeling like it. If I have to close this bitch down one more time I think I’ll just burn it instead.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you end your sentence. Thats not how you should talk to customers.... why didnt you say your usual shit in your customer service voice? Could he be...

You dont get much time to say much else as pokemon dude whips out a credit card, swiping it quickly as he can before grabbing the bag with the games in it and reaching over the counter to grab the freshly printed reciept. Wrapping his arm around the frozen blonde as he made his way out the door quickly.

Goth boy stood at the counter, eyeing you closely for a few moments before taking the pen on the counter and writing a number on a piece of paper that he slid closer to him on the counter. He wordlessly clicks the pen again and lays it back on the counter, sliding the paper your way with a small smirk.

“His name is Ben. Thats his number, but try not to break him, hes new to being honest.”

And with that he makes his way out the door, off to catch up with his friends that had disappeared in a rush.

#ben #soulmate au #soulmate marathon #creepypasta x reader

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suometar · 3 years ago

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youtube

Power song of the day: Wake up by Smash into Pieces

You can not resist, like a moth to a flame -- You know it will burn, but sometimes you enjoy the pain

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus) Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- From a life in fantasy -- Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- And realize it's not meant to be -- You stumble in the dark cause you close your eyes -- Guided by the sweet talk lullaby -- But someday you will wake up -- You will wake up From a life in fantasy -- Wake up!

You try to cut everyone out of your life -- So no one can question how you can believe the lies

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus)

You're in the fire, what do you do? -- You wake up -- The final round is waiting for you

(Chorus)

Why? Well...

I'm coming down from mania.

Which sucks. And here's a glimpse into my 30 or so years experience of this nonsense.

But before I say more I want to say to everyone who I have been venting during the last month or so:

Please don't think that you have contributed in making my situation worse. You haven't. The fuel for all of it comes from within myself. I am nothing but crateful that I have had a chance to vent to someone because otherwise it all would've just clumped inside me and that would've made the situation worse.

And besides, not all venting has been caused just by mania. When I'm manic it doesn't remove the normal thoughts and feelings I have.

When you're stuck in a tar pit created by a certain person for who knows how many years in a row it's obvious it's not just the mania. I think you guys know what that's like :D

Coming down is like a really really really REALLY bad hangover

Except that you can remember every single thing you've done, the things you've felt, the things you've planned, what you thought of. EVERYTHING.

And you KNOW they're all just a result of the chemical imbalance of your own brain.

Coming down doesn't mean necessarily that I'm now depressed. It's just getting back to your normal state from mania.

But the bad hangover is real. If you've experienced that you know what it's like. Regrets after regrets.

What's mania like

That ecstacy of mania is an immense rush you don't really know unless you've experienced it yourself.

It's difficult to describe, but I think falling in love really hard and fast is the closest that describes it best. You have butterflies in your stomach all the time, you're hyperfixating on that one person and you feel invincible, like everything in your life is finally perfect and you're in control like never before.

Or even better: It's like being on speed, except without the drugs. Overstimulated 24-7-365.

Hyperfixation is typical for mania

In my case the hyperfixation can be basically anything from men (real or fictional, doesn't really matter lol) to any action, hobby or even work, totally depends on the situation.

What I do is I dedicate all my time to that one thing and one thing only even though I know it's not healthy.

Thank god I've learned to control it so that it won't take ALL of my time anymore, but it still is there. And I need to cater it to some extent or I won't be able to do anything.

It's like having a parasite you can't get rid of but you can make it behave if you give it some attention from time to time.

What's real and what's not? That is the question

When you're having mania it's sometimes super hard to differentiate what's a real thought and what is based on the illusion created by your own mind. And even though I am nowadays capable to tell the difference of my real thoughts/feelings and the ones fueled by mania the later ones do have an effect on me even though I try not to react to them.

The tricky thing is that your body can't tell the difference of a so called real/normal thought/feeling and one created inside my head fueled by mania.

A manic person wants nothing more than get more of the dopamine that fuels the ecstacy. Which easily can lead to a psychotic episode/period.

The saddest part is that manic person usually looks and behaves exactly like any normal person. You can't tell from outside if someone is having mania unless they choose to show it. Psychotic then usually is clearly psychotic and erratic and behaves totally out of character.

Triggers for mania

Anything can basically be a trigger for mania and they vary from person to person. For me it's usually one of the following:

an extreme negative change in life (such as death, divorce or other big things like that),

finding a new crush,

intensive concentration on some activity,

social media, or

as surprising as it might be: music. Especially any with a faster tempo.

Usually though I have already been somewhat hypomanic before the real mania hits. Hypomania though is very hard to notice because I'm somewhat easily excited and impulsive already by nature.

But I've lived with this so long that I know when it's going overboard. My manic mind just usually chooses to say it's nothing and I believe it like a fool - because it feels so good.

This time the trigger for me was intensive concentrating on writing. While the writing was crucial in easing my general anxiety this time it had this unfortunate side effect.

Nonetheless, I'm not quitting writing. Because the anxiety has eased significantly from when I started. I probably need to change the subject for a while and not to write daily or limit it just for 30 mins a day.

How a new crush can happen when you're married, you ask?

Oh, easily. See, with a manic mind a marriage is nothing but an obstacle. Nothing is but an obstacle that is designed to limit you. Because you're omnipotent. And obstacles - well, they're made to be conquered or plowed through.

In my case I've chosen to keep my crushes online and physically as far away from me as possible. I've made a mistake of crushing into someone irl and that was UGLY for all parties involved.

Thirsting over someone from afar online while remaining happily married is by far a better option.

How to control mania or turn it off

Yes, you can turn it off. The problem with that is that usually manic person doesn't

feel like something is wrong, and

doesn't want to get down from the high.

But there are things you can do to get it end sooner.

Log off from all social media. Seriously. Don't just turn notifications off - LOG OFF.

If that's not enough, remove all the social media apps from your phone. You can always install them again.

Turn off your phone if it's possible.

Don't use computer unless it is absolutely necessary - like for paying bills. You don't need to find out what age Barbara Streissand is at 2:30am - or, well, ever.

Social media is by far the biggest contributor for mania. The apps are designed to give us a dopamine rush each time we scroll down any feed and see a new post. That's how they keep us stuck on them.

When you already have an issue with the dopamine rush using social media just makes it worse.

You won't miss anything if you log off for two days or a week. SERIOUSLY. But it will improve your well-being tremendously.

The absolutely best thing you can do is to create as dull environment to yourself as possible. That there's nothing artificial you can drown yourself into. Best place to be in mania is in the middle of the woods without any mobile signal - trust me.

Take up an activity where you do something with your hands. Hands-on approach is crucial.

Doing things with your hands will root you into the real world.

It doesn't matter what it is: cooking, cleaning, handcrafts, drawing or painting (NOT on a computer or ipad but with real pencils/crayons/paints/brushes/etc).

Remember not to do just that though. Go out (without your phone). Enjoy the nature. Listen to the sounds of the outside world. Don't close your senses with headphones. Read. Watch out of the window. Stare at the wall. Watch the paint dry.

LET YOURSELF GET BORED.

Just stay away from any electronic devices.

The hangover is horrible but it'll pass. And you will feel better afterwards when you're functional again.

------

It's not easy. None of us chose to live with bipolar. It's always inherited. But there are ways to work through it.

I hope this helps at least someone.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#bipolar disorder #bipolar #bipolar mania #coping skills #mental health tips #thoughts from the crypt #long post

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inscribed-in-asteroids · 4 years ago

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AN: Here’s chapter four! We get into some character interaction.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Canon Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, Scorpia, Perfuma, Mermista, Seahawk, mentions Catra and Adora

Original Characters/Fankids: Odessa, Hydrangea, Tristan, features Adam and Molly

Pairing (i.e. ones having actual moments): Entrapdak, Scorfuma

Rating: M

Read on AO3. It always has more info there.

Venture

Entrapta places her recorder in her pocket, done for the time being. There have been advancements in the settlement on Beast Island. It continues to grow in size and technology, and contains more portals than other places on Etheria. Most places only have one portal, with Bright Moon having a few. The Whispering Woods contains the second-highest amount after Beast Island, predominantly so that if anyone gets lost, they will eventually find a portal and land in one of the main kingdoms, with that particular portal having that kingdom’s crest.

She and her lab partner have been diligent in the upkeep of Beast Island. It had taken time for the island to become fertile. First One’s tech had buried its roots deep within the earth, far below what anyone but drones could see. Soil had melded with machine, somehow: dirt containing minerals that were not of Etheria, and when they attempted to dig out the First One’s tech—mostly from the other princesses’ insistence that it be done—they learned their mistake when slumbering beasts and inanimate plants had sprung to life and attempted to kill them. That had been terri-fun-fying!

But it did confirm what Hordak and she suspected: Beast Island and the First One’s tech had morphed into one gigantic organism. A problem to be sure, however, they also proposed a radical hypothesis: by changing the code of First One’s tech, they could alter the parasitic relationship to a symbiotic one. That had been a major doozy, since there was so much, but it worked! The island had released its many species from its catatonic state, and they had called She-Ra to aid the process run smoother with her magic.

The First One’s tech proved to be a valuable asset in not only repairing Beast Island, but creating a thriving metropolis that used the natural resources and ancient machinery available. Buildings, bridges, plumbing, aqueducts, everything made by Horde clones was molded around the landscape. They were determined to function alongside the proper residents of Beast Island.

It really surprised everyone how well they behaved when not obeying the rules of a tyrannical madman.

Entrapta found life on Beast Island exciting and peaceful at the same time. Being the princess of Dryl, she would still go to her old home, but she pretty much gave it to Wrong Hordak and the other clones who desired to live a little closer to the other kingdoms, to mend relations and have a better comprehension of the way Etheria works. Hordak’s brothers were curious, inventive and engaging once they were free, and went through rehabilitation to cope with the loss of Prime.

They were all so cute!

Entrapta looks to her left, watching Hordak move around the room. He keeps his eyes on the clipboard, hair falling over his forehead. He taps the back of it with his fingers, humming to himself as he kneels down to inspect a piece of equipment.

Entrapta smiles, propping her cheek against her hand.

Hordak senses a gaze on him, and he looks at her, smiling, “Did you need anything?”

“No, I’m content,” she says. But none as cute as him.

Odessa disembarks first, greeted by several of her uncles, her parents and siblings. Imp flies toward her, landing lightly against her back. She instinctively moves to the piggyback position, kissing his cheek. Emily whirs happily, and she leans over to kiss the top of her dome.

“Find anything fascinating?” Imp plays back in Entrapta’s voice.

“Yes! There was a lot on the flagship that we had to explore,” she says.

“Ooh, what’d you get?” Entrapta herself asks, hanging upside down from a rafter.

“I’ll show you in a bit. Right now, I need these two to go,” Odessa says, annoyed.

“Your friends?” Hordak asks, confused.

“No,” she points at Adam and Molly, who are standing behind Tristan and Hydrangea.

“What are you two doing there?” Entrapta asks.

Adam, shameless, grins at her, “Oh, we snuck up on the ship! It was awesome!”

Entrapta blinks, surprised by this development. She furrows her brows, “Wait, so you two were on the ship for that long?”

“Yeah, it was great!” Adam says, jumping over to stand by Odessa. “Can’t wait to do it again!”

Odessa glares at him, the urge to grind him underfoot intense, “You could’ve jeopardized the mission!”

“Uh, but we didn’t? I don’t see the problem,” Adam replies, folding his arms.

“The problem is that we had to have two additional people on board! Our supplies were meant for three, you’re lucky we had spares!”

Entrapta moves in, looking at Adam, holding his arms out with her hair, “Ooh, so you used my suits! Tell me, did it affect your mobility? What was your heartrate? Can you grab me your suit so I can scrape your skin cells off the inside?”

“Mom, please,” Odessa begs. “I want to yell at this idiot!”

“I know, sweetie, but can’t it wait ‘til after I pluck some hairs?”

“No way, you can’t go plucking my hair!” Adam protests.

Odessa whirls on him, poking his shoulder not-too-gently, “You get involved with my mission and you think you’re in any position to object to anything!”

Hydrangea approaches her, “Des, calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when he gets out of my sight! Having to deal with you for this long was torture!”

Entrapta hovers over Adam’s head, measuring his body with her tape, lost in thought.

“Entrapta,” Hordak says, getting her, and their, attention. “Perhaps this is the time to lay out ground rules.”

“Oooh, gotcha!” Entrapta swings over to him, sitting atop her hair in a swift motion. She nods at Hordak.

He walks forward, hands behind his back, coming up to Adam and Molly. Molly shrinks under his scrutiny, while Adam has the decency to look like he fucked up for once. “I will send the two of you home by portal immediately. I will be speaking with your mothers to inform them of your behavior, to ensure neither of you tell them anything different.”

Molly groans inwardly, knowing she’ll be the only one to care. Adam is likely forgetting everything as it’s said.

Adam’s ears flatten against his head, annoyed, “Dude, no offense, but we didn’t do anything to risk her mission.”

“It is not a matter of you managing to be competent aboard the ship,” Hordak chastises. “It is the matter that you were not privy to the information or mission itself to begin with. Your inability to think ahead has always been a problem.”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me,” Hordak whispers, deadly quiet, leaning close. At Adam’s silence, he pulls back. “The two of you will accompany me to the portal now. Come.”

Adam keeps from huffing, crossing his arms, ears pressed to his head. Molly rubs her left arm, looking over her shoulder.

Tristan meets her gaze, giving her a reassuring smile.

With that, she follows her brother and Hordak.

Odessa turns to her mother once they’re out of range, “I found some things on the ship that I know you’ll be interested in.”

Entrapta squeals, “Oooh, I can’t wait to see it!”

Hydrangea yawns, patting Entrapta’s shoulder, “I’ll have to see you all tomorrow, I need to go home and see how things have been.”

“Aaaaw, so soon?” Entrapta asks.

“Unfortunately,” Hydrangea says, hugging her tight. “I’ll be back later after I get some rest.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gea,” Odessa says, opening her arms for a hug of her own. Hydrangea shakes her a little, the two laughing, before heading toward the portal. Odessa looks up, “What about you, Tris?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“You’re welcome to hang out with us!” Entrapta shouts.

Emily spins in place, beeping with excitement.

“Awesome,” Tristan says, giving Imp a high-five as he flies around his head. “I can hang out with your siblings while you and your Mom talk science.”

Odessa touches her mother’s shoulder, “So, do you think Dad is going to be gone a while?”

“He does have to talk to Adora and Catra, so probably,” she replies.

“Okay, because maaaybe I should show you one of the things I found without him.”

Tristan raises a brow, while Entrapta blinks in puzzled silence.

“Oh my,” Entrapta breathes, peering into the case. “That’s my girl! Not a single mark or blemish on it.”

Odessa grins, “I know! It came out perfect.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let your dad know?” Entrapta asks a second time. “I think he might find it interesting, too.”

Odessa’s lips are pursed for a moment, folding her arms across her chest. She sighs, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell Dad. I’ll ask him some questions to hint about it, I suppose, but I don’t know how he will feel about it.”

“I think it would be best to be upfront,” Entrapta says.

Odessa bites her lip, uncertain.

Entrapta continues to study the brain in the jar. These discoveries could be important, but she understands her daughter’s concern. Hordak has been making reparations for decades now, but when it enters especially sensitive territory about his time serving Horde Prime, he becomes sullen, despondent and incapable of holding a good mood. She doesn’t blame her husband either. That’s a part of his past that continues to pain him. The years have softened his heart, and he feels shame and guilt every day for things he had done. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him either.

She imagines that’s how her daughter feels. Ethical dilemmas are her least favorite kind.

“I will see how he feels by implication,” Odessa reaffirms. “I won’t do more than that, at present.”

Entrapta nods, not liking any of this, but standing by her child’s decision. She takes the jar in her hands, “We will study it later. Why don’t you go and take this to your room?”

“Alright, I’ll put it away real quick. I’ll be back to show you and Dad the other thing I found,” Odessa says, jumping toward the ceiling and heading into the vents.

Entrapta sighs, then her smile returns when she hears Hordak’s voice from behind, conversing with Tristan.

“You’re more than welcome to spend the night,” Hordak offers, clasping his hands behind his back. “We have plenty of rooms to accommodate your needs.”

Entrapta bounds over, eager, “We’re having mini pancakes in the morning!”

Tristan smiles at them, “Thank you! I’d be happy to.”

Odessa hops down at this moment, grabbing him into a headlock, “Cool! If Gea was here, it’d be like old times!”

Chuckling, Tristan pats her forearm, signaling for release, and she obliges. He gives a yawn and stretches, “I’m gonna head to bed, then.”

“Imp, Emily, can you show him to his room?” Odessa asks.

More than happy to, the three exit the room, leaving Odessa and her parents in the sanctum. She walks to her bag, “There wasn’t much on the flagship, but I did discover this.”

Hordak and Entrapta stare at shining fragments, clattering softly on the table. Entrapta holds one in a hair strand, “Pretty! Where was this?”

“It seemed to have been located in one of Prime’s trophy rooms.”

“Look, hon,” Entrapta says, holding it up to Hordak. “The craftsmanship for this must’ve been delicate and precise.”

Hordak takes it between his fingers, inspecting it slowly, quietly. It does have an air of elegance. He somewhat recalls seeing it before in that room. Lined with trinkets from planets no longer around. Hordak frowns, placing it on the table, “Did you find anything else?”

Odessa considers her words carefully. She says, “I did find an area that had past Primes.”

“Was it intact?”

“More than we expected.”

“Did anything of consequence come about?”

“I did interact with one of the bodies,” Odessa tells him. “But it’s nothing that important.”

Hordak peers closely at her, and Entrapta glances at the ground, trying not to pull down her mask.

“An entire vicinity filled with inanimate bodies, and you didn’t do anything with them?” Hordak asks.

“Not really. I turned one on by accident, though, so I got to take a close look at it.”

“That must’ve been elucidating, on some degree, I suppose,” Hordak scowls, tilting his head. He adds, “Well, there’s no need to go to the flagship anymore.”

“I know, Dad,” Odessa says, sitting on the table. “That part’s done with.”

Hordak pats her head, an unexplainable relief coming to him.

Odessa’s stomach grumbles, and she gives a sheepish grin, “Oh, guess I’m hungry.”

Entrapta beams, “Late-night snacks! We got lots of fizzy drinks! I missed my little drinking buddy.”

Laughing, Odessa hops to her feet, “Mom, the day we get actually drunk together is gonna be nuts.”

Tristan wakes up to the sound of scuttling on the walls. Seeing Imp climbing around, Tristan closes his eyes, getting drowsy again.

“Morning!” Odessa yells, jumping on top of him.

Tristan throws her off him, smirking as she falls, “Des, I’m sleeping…”

Landing with ease, she stands, arms akimbo, “But don’t you want to eat?”

He debates whether to leave the warm comfort of the bed or enjoy the warm comfort of mini pancakes.

Noooooo…

“Gea’s bringing the really good syrup,” Odessa teases, poking his shoulder with her hair.

He opens one eye.

Tristan doesn’t take much convincing afterward, pouring caramelized fruit syrup onto an assortment of small pancakes, his third helping. Hydrangea pours him and her a cup of green tea with lemon, setting his cup down in front of him. He says thanks with a full mouth, and she smiles at him.

Odessa, on her third plate too, licks her lips, “This is so good! You’re turning into a pro at making syrups.”

“Thank you,” Hydrangea blushes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Taking a healthy sip of his tea, not minding the burn, Tristan lets out a satisfied sigh, “You keep this up, there’s no way I’ll be able to move.”

Entrapta looks up from her plate, peering closely at his face, “Have you been experiencing a slack in your metabolism? Are your joints functioning, or are you showing signs of muscle atrophy?”

Tristan smiles reassuringly, “No, no, I’m okay. The food’s just delicious.”

“It is!” Entrapta says, returning to her meal. She turns to Hordak, “Do you want to try any?”

“Hmm…” Hordak looks at the sweet cakes, drizzled with thick syrup. All of it golden in color. Pleasing to the eye, but he isn’t sure.

Entrapta grins at him, expectant.

“Very well,” Hordak says, taking her fork. He tries to not be aware of the eyes on him. Giving it a delicate sniff, he sticks it into his mouth, chewing meticulously. Thinking.

He looks at Hydrangea, giving a nod, “Excellent work.”

“T-Thank you!” she stammers, beyond shocked. She is going to remember this compliment for the rest of her life.

Entrapta, delighted he had a good experience, finishes up the rest of her food. Getting up, she announces, “Well, we’ll see you later! Hordak and I have a lot of work to do, so we won’t see you until tonight.”

“Alright, Mom,” Odessa says. “You two have a good day!”

Squealing at how adorable she is, Entrapta kisses her face multiple times as she says goodbye. Hordak pats her head before joining his lab partner.

“So,” Tristan begins, dabbing his mouth. “What are we up to today?”

Odessa turns to him, “I was thinking we might begin preparing for our next trip.”

Hydrangea sips her tea, “Our next trip will be when, do you think?”

“Preferably, sooner than later, and I am going to begin preparations in the coming days,” Odessa explains. “The next trip is going to be significantly longer, even with using portals.”

“How long do you expect?” Tristan asks.

“It might be more than a year,” Odessa answers.

“Oh!” Hydrangea says, setting down her cup. “More than a year… Where are we going?”

“I’d been thinking about it since we left the flagship,” Odessa says. “I think it would be provident to visit my uncles on Inicos. If no one on Etheria knows, maybe I have relatives that can give me better answers there.”

Tristan and Hydrangea glance at each other, both wondering what it would take to prepare it all.

“I understand it’s a lot,” Odessa tells them, aware that they’re unsure. “There’s no rush, since it will take a little time to prepare. I will inform you before we launch. Take your time to figure it out!”

Hydrangea smiles at her, “Alright, that’s good. It might take my parents a little convincing.”

“And you, Tris?”

“I’m sure I can figure something out with my folks,” Tristan replies.

“Excellent. I have a little bit to do around here for a couple hours, but I’ll meet up with you both later today.”

“That’s fine, I got stuff to do too,” Tristan stands, stretching out his arms.

Hydrangea claps her hands together, “I’ll see you guys later!”

Tristan doesn’t go home.

He swims through the ocean for several hours, thinking. Enveloped in the comfort of water, Tristan swims further down into the water, the light dissipating as he descends. Tristan looks to his side, shadows moving in the liquid black. He reaches out, skimming the surface of smooth skin. The aquatic behemoth lets out a sound of greeting, its voice thrumming through the water.

Swimming deeper, the pressure intensifying, darkness consuming his sight. He senses the scales of another animal, and it swims beside him for a while, enjoying his company. He loves to come down here. Communicate with all the oddities beneath the ocean, gliding along its floors, descending into greater trenches.

Despite what people think, the bottom of the ocean isn’t silent. There’s a cacophony of sound here, all varied in tone, pitch, and layered.

His mother never went beyond where dolphins ranged. Her demeanor, his father had told him, has remained exactly the same since they were young adults. But she has a penchant for cuter creatures, spending her time with more mammalian ocean-life.

His interest in creatures from dark depths was something she had no qualm telling him wasn’t to her taste. The first time he told her he would like to go out and swim into less shallow ends, she looked at him like he was bluffing. Like what he was telling her was a mere joke. At his insistence, she gave in, with much reluctance.

They swam toward the black, but never entered past where the dim sunlight ended. She told him it was an uninteresting place down there, and was rather disgusting. Made it obvious that she thought his choice was inferior to her own.

Tristan didn’t ask her to accompany him after that. He would only tell her he was going out, until it got to the day he knew it didn’t matter if he informed her of his whereabouts or not. She occupied her time and he was expected to do the same.

Being in this unfathomable space, he found a sense of peace. There was so much life here, unseen and unwanted by all above the surface.

He isn’t sure if anyone in his family had this desire for the darkness of the ocean, but he knows that he takes after his grandfather. Where once, Tristan shared the similar dolphin tail to swim, the more time he spent on his own, exploring, sensing, he found his own identity. His fin elongated, skin becoming sharp. No longer as agile or fast, but powerful all the same.

He pushes onward, tail propelling him downward still. Lost in thought and the feeling of not knowing where to go, but believing that if he keeps moving, he’ll eventually reach somewhere.

“I don’t like it,” Perfuma objects, arms crossed.

Hydrangea bites back a sigh, “Mom, it won’t be forever.”

“I think she’ll be able to handle herself,” Scorpia says.

“But for more than a year—”

Hydrangea sets down her teacup, “Mom, I know you’re worried about what will happen, but I would be among friends. And we would use a portal to help speed up the trip.”

Perfuma frowns, looking down at the table.

Scorpia turns to her daughter, “Hydrangea, hon, where is it you’re going again?”

“Inicos,” she explains again. “That planet where a majority of her uncles went to.”

Scorpia turns to her wife, “See, that’s good! That’s a planet where she’ll be more than okay.”

Perfuma rubs her temples. The idea of Hydrangea being gone for that long isn’t one that is sitting well with her. She would prefer if she remained in place. A child needs roots; what good would it do her to be away from home for that long? And there’s the fact it’s Odessa. There is no chance that this will be a one time thing. Hydrangea has been her friend for years; Odessa is too much like her mother—fixated on her goals.

“Mom, I don’t see any reason why you should be against this,” Hydrangea tells her.

Perfuma rises from her seat, “I’m going to bed. I will think about this.”

Hydrangea watches her mother go, knowing better than to continue her argument.

Scorpia sighs, “I’ll see if I can talk to her about it later.”

“Okay. There’s time left, but I would prefer to know sooner than later. You know how Odessa can be,” she replies, smiling.

Scorpia nods, sipping from her mug. There’s no reason for Perfuma to reject the notion, and with little base to go on. She knows Perfuma means well. She always does.

Once she encourages Hydrangea to retire for the evening as well, Scorpia leans against her bedroom door; she stares at Perfuma, brushing long yellow hair. Approaching her, Scorpia leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“I’m not wrong to be worried,” Perfuma says.

“I know.”

“I just…” Perfuma trails off, gently setting down her brush. “Hydrangea is growing up so fast, and I would prefer that she spend her time here, with her family.”

“I know it can be difficult. But when I was her age, I was getting ready to go out into the world.”

“Not for good reasons,” Perfuma says.

“The reasons aren’t really the point,” Scorpia says, holding up flaxen locks in a claw. She tried brushing Perfuma’s hair, once; she clipped right through it, and, horrified, she refrained from touching her for a good while. With practice, she can do it now, but only because she forced herself to try again. Even now, though, she feels… out of place. Bizarre and incongruous. She doesn’t want Hydrangea to lose her connections. To feel alone, and not know who she is. “The point is to let her discover what she wants out of her life.”

Perfuma reaches behind her, trailing her fingers along Scorpia’s jaw, “I know…”

“Give it some thought, at the very least,” Scorpia tells her.

Glancing down, Perfuma meets her wife’s eyes in the mirror, “I will see how I feel.”

The brain floats in its case. Undisturbed.

Odessa furrows her brows, wondering what she should do. Should she inform her father of her true intentions, or should she wait until she finds something of value to offer him? To show that it’s worth the effort?

She has deliberated over it for a while. She doesn’t want to exclude her father from the potential discoveries that await within the stars. But Prime…

He’s beyond a sore subject for Hordak. Her father is confident, proud, and immovable. But when Prime is delved into, either on a shallow or intimate level, he becomes sullen and distant. Similar to how he used to be, according to her mother. It normally takes Entrapta to bring him out of whatever reverie decides to perturb his thoughts.

Is it really a good idea to bring it up?

Odessa is not the sort to believe her father is weak. To the contrary, she has the highest respect and adoration for Hordak. And that’s partly why she hesitates to confide in him her plans.

He will eventually find out, though. He might not be good at picking up lies, but he is suspicious by nature.

Folding her arms, Odessa sits back in her chair, allowing the front legs to hover in the air. If she kept it a secret, he wouldn’t like it, but he may understand her reasoning if she explained why.

Ethical dilemmas are the worst.

“Odessaaaaa!”

“Hey, Mom,” she says, looking up at the ceiling.

“So, I was wondering what to prepare for your journey, and your father suggested that we give you a mini portal,” Entrapta says, hanging upside down. “The portal to Inicos will save you some time getting there, but if you want to send us something of value ahead of your arrivals, a mini portal might help!”

“Oh, that’s a good point!” Odessa says, feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll thank Dad for the idea later…”

Entrapta brushes Odessa’s cheek with a lock of her hair, “What’s wrong? Do you feel bad?”

“A little,” Odessa admits. “I don’t like not telling Dad anything, and, perhaps, I’m being unfair to you too—for having you keep it under wraps right now.”

Entrapta sits on her hair, “It’s not too late to be honest with him. Your father can handle more than we give credit for.”

“I know he can, but he has reservations about anything involving Prime,” Odessa says, shifting the chair back and forth. “He didn’t object to going to the flagship, but everything that comes after might not be to his liking.”

Entrapta places her hands on her cheeks, leaning forward, “Maybe we can try again to hint at it?”

“Dad’s too smart,” she says, setting the chair legs back on the ground and mimicking Entrapta’s position.

Entrapta and Odessa sit in silence for a few moments, each wondering about the best course of action.

“I still feel we should tell him,” Entrapta says.

“I do too, but I don’t want to risk Dad getting upset.”

“Then… I won’t say anything until you do.”

“Thanks,” Odessa replies, staring at the brain in the jar.

She doesn’t know why she hesitates so much when it comes to this. But she has inkling he might not approve. That isn’t a potential circumstance she wants tainting this trip—that he might not give his full support if he knew that this whole thing was to find out their origins.

Tristan lays in his room, staring up at the ceiling. Music plays in his ears, low and smooth in its lull. He can hear the faint sound of seagulls beyond his window, which gives him a growing sense of calm.

A knock on the door disturbs that calm. Annoyed, he says, “Yes?”

Mermista enters the bedroom, walking in. She inspects the room for a moment before addressing her son, “Are you busy?”

“No,” he answers, continuing to look at the ceiling.

“Good,” she tells him, folding her arms. “Because you’re needed downstairs to discuss matters in Salineas.”

Tristan groans, “I don’t know why I need to be down there.”

Mermista raises a brow, “You’re the prince, that’s why.”

He waves a hand in the air, “Still don’t see why I should.”

“Because I say so, how’s that for a reason?” Mermista declares, turning on her heel. “Hurry up, we can’t keep members waiting.”

He doesn’t move, wanting to drown out everything.

“Tristan, I said now!” she snaps from outside the door.

At the command, he throws his arms in exasperation, getting to his feet in a huff, “Fine!”

Walking quickly through marbled walls, Mermista shakes her head at him, “It wouldn’t kill you to be more involved with your kingdom.”

Tristan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t give me an attitude,” Mermista chastises. Another shake of her head, and she pauses mid-step to reach for his hair. “You don’t look the least bit presentable!”

“You told me to get going right now, you can’t get upset about that!”

“You should’ve been getting ready a while ago,” Mermista says, continuing to—very poorly—comb through his locks.

He steps backward, waving an arm, “I’m not a child, stop touching my hair!”

“If you didn’t look like crap, I wouldn’t need to,” Mermista says.

Tristan flushes in embarrassment and anger, “I never look like crap.”

“Right now you do,” Mermista insists. “Straighten your back.”

“It’d be a lot easier to do that if you got off my back,” Tristan snaps.

Mermista turns to narrow her eyes at him. She lets out a groan, “You know what, go back to your room. If you’re going to be immature, I’d prefer you not be there.”

With that, she continues walking without him.

Tristan stands there, miffed. Another waste of time! What does she even want? Whirling, he stomps back to his room.

This whole place is fucking stupid.

Hydrangea approaches Perfuma in the garden. Her mother seems to be in a good mood, “Hey, Mom.”

Perfuma turns, smiling, “Hello, dear! Would you hand me that water container please?”

Doing so, Hydrangea decides to mosey through the pathway. She lifts her hand over a row of violets, brushing their petals lightly with her fingertips. They respond to her touch, swaying gently beneath her palm.

“Is there something that you wanted, sweetheart?”

Hydrangea doesn’t look at her, listening to the flowers hum quietly, “I was wondering if we could discuss the trip.”

“Oh? I thought we dropped the matter,” Perfuma replies, tone nonchalant.

“No, Mom, you did,” Hydrangea says, voice equally collected.

Perfuma walks over to another section, pouring water into the soil, “There’s no reason to give an attitude, my young blossom.”

“Mom, no one is giving an attitude to you,” Hydrangea says, turning to her. “You’re the one who’s been avoidant about the issue since I mentioned it. Don’t you think you should hear me out?”

Perfuma sighs. Setting down the water pitcher, she places a hand on her cheek, “Alright… what is it?”

“All I’m asking is to go on an expedition for a while. I don’t think it’s that large of a request.”

“I believe you’re forgetting that you are a princess; you can’t go wandering the galaxy whenever you please—you have responsibilities here to your people!”

“I don’t understand your resistance. You’re always telling me that the best way to understand others is by putting yourself in their position.”

“You don’t have to travel around to do that,” Perfuma scoffs. “You can learn everything possible right here on Etheria.”

“Mom.”

“You aren’t ready to go out and be away from home for so long.”

“Traveling the galaxy is infinitely more safe than fighting a war, yet you did the latter around my age.”

Perfuma sighs, irritated, “You are being too argumentative.”

“I’m not being argumentative,” Hydrangea says, keeping her voice even, despite her own growing sense of frustration. “I’m trying to explain to you why this isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. This could be a really good experience for me!”

Perfuma shakes her head, “You are asking for too much at your age. You should be concentrating on your duties here on Plumeria, as well as your studies.”

“I haven’t slacked at all when it comes to my princess responsibilities. My studies are just fine, not to mention that if I travel around, I can learn about plants from other planets.”

Perfuma clasps her fingers together, taking a deep breath. Count to ten…

Hydrangea waits, knowing not to interrupt.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Hydrangea. I don’t like the idea of you traveling without proper support.”

“I’m not without support—Tristan should be coming too, and Odessa is capable. We’re going to be communicating with her parents, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“They’re not going with you?!”

Crap… “No?”

“That’s even more reason to not let you!”

Her patience wears a little thin, though Hydrangea keeps her temper levelled, “Mom, this isn’t a scary trip that is going to harm me. We’re going to a planet that has lots of Odessa’s relatives, we have a portal to go back to in case we want to arrive sooner, and we’re always well-stocked on supplies.”

Perfuma inhales through her nose, exhales through her mouth. She can’t help but be nervous about the idea of her baby girl going through the universe with absolutely no parental guidance whatsoever. She might not be a young child, but she has a lot to learn. Scorpia thinks she is being too restrictive, even though she doesn’t believe so. She didn’t have her parents during formative years, and she would’ve wanted to have direction when she was around Hydrangea’s age.

But she knows that Hydrangea is determined to help Odessa in any way possible.

Perfuma walks over to her daughter, patting her shoulder. She stares directly at her face, solemn. Hydrangea stares at her, expectant. Sighing, Perfuma gives a small smile, “Very well. I feel this is against my better judgment, but you are free to go.”

Hydrangea breaks into a beaming grin, “Really?! Thanks, Mom!”

“I want you to let me know what’s going on every day, okay?”

“Mom, I can’t do that, I’ll be busy. Once a month?”

“Weekly.”

“Biweekly.”

“I guess that will do...” Perfuma gives in. She can’t help but hug her close when Hydrangea embraces her tightly in her arms.

Hydrangea couldn’t believe her luck—she was actually given permission to go! This is going to be awesome!

“You want to do what now?” Mermista asks.

“I want to go with Odessa and Hydrangea on a space trip.”

“No.”

“Why?” Tristan asks.

“I say so.”

Leaning his cheek against his palm, Tristan scowls, glaring at the fruit spread along the table.

Mermista doesn’t look up from her food, “If you continue to frown like that, you’re going to get wrinkles faster.”

Tristan bites back a retort, knowing there’s no point arguing.

“I don’t understand why you even want to go space travel. There’s nothing out there that’s important to us Salineans.”

Tristan rises from his chair, “Fine. I get it.”

Mermista watches him go. He’s been more insistent on being away from home the last several years; he didn’t spend much time here for about a decade or so, choosing to go frolic with his friends nearly every day, and it was more so when Odessa would return from her trips. Mermista is not quite sure if this is something that all teenagers go through, or just her son in particular.

She spent much of her time in Salineas, occasionally visiting her friends from other parts of Etheria. But Tristan is the opposite of that.

Sighing, she doesn’t bother to call him back, listening to the faint echo of his footfalls past the doors. If he wants to be a brat someplace else, that’s his issue.

Tristan strides through the hallway in a huff, discontent written across his face. Never breaking his pace, Tristan heads outside, where the once calm surface churned and frothed as a raging sea. Diving straight into the waves, his tail morphs the moment his skin makes contact with cold water. The weather was unexpected, but that’s fine—he loved storms.

Racing through the darkening ocean, Tristan swims northwest. He doesn’t think of anything—simply revels in the sensation of darting through water. Eventually, the seas revert to a quiet demeanor. Approaching nearby docks, Tristan catches the sounds of roughhousing and glass breaking. Changing from tail to legs, Tristan moves his arms in a simple motion, wrapping water around the lower half of his body, he lifts himself onto the pier.

Walking toward the tavern, Tristan enters the establishment. Without another thought, he slides to the right, avoiding a body that got flung in his direction. Not looking down at the unfortunate patron, Tristan heads to the center of the room, glancing around.

“Alright, men! What do you say we go set a couple boats on fire!”

Tristan turns in the direction of the voice, accompanied shortly after by exasperated groans and complaints.

“Well, don’t everybody jump up at once,” Seahawk complains.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around when they’re not hungover,” Tristan says.

Seahawk looks up, grinning from ear to ear, “Tristan, my boy!”

“Hey, Dad,” he replies.

“Pull up a seat, son! Barkeep, a drink for the young man!”

Tristan watches one of his father’s friends fall onto the floor, passed out. Taking the chair for himself, he says, “You seem to be in a good mood.”

Seahawk twirls his moustache, “Ho ho ho, my boy, you’ll be pleased to know that I have an expedition coming up! A crew and I are supposed to go south and find a coveted treasure that hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years!”

“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”

Seahawk hums to himself, then waves his hand, “I can’t remember right now. But it’s bound to be a glorious trek across the grand blue that is the sea!”

The bartender places a drink in front of Tristan, who nods his thanks before taking a generous gulp. Tristan sets the mug down, “That’s great! It’s been awhile since you’ve done anything like that.”

“Indeed, my boy. And what about you? Have you been answering the wild call?”

Tristan traces the side of his mug, “Odessa does have an expedition coming up that would be fun.”

“Ah, sweet Odessa! That girl is always ready to explore. Hydrangea is going too, I presume?”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

“From the sound of it, you’re unsure about your place in this. Why don’t you go too?”

Tristan rolls his eyes, “You know how Mom can get.”

“My dear Mermista does tend to be unyielding,” Seahawk says, then shrugs. “Your mother doesn’t have to get upset about what she doesn’t know.”

Tristan smirks, “Dad, are you giving me permission to go?”

“No, but I’m not denying you the call to adventure, either!”

Shaking his head, Tristan takes another swig of beer. He slams it down on the table, much to his father’s delight. Seahawk shouts, “Barkeep, more of your finest alcohol, please!”

Tristan smiles to himself, relaxing in the midst of chaos. He might even sing a shanty with his dad for the shits and giggles of it.

Hordak has noticed a change in Odessa’s demeanor, however slight.

He didn’t think much of it, at first. She has been preoccupied with her upcoming mission, but she’s been working near non-stop since she returned from Prime’s flagship. Not wanting to pry into her affairs, Hordak believed it would be best to let her do as she pleases.

And it’s not that she’s pulling away from him. On the contrary, she’s always been an affectionate child with him and Entrapta. She’s, in essence, a good kid. But that’s the thing about good kids—they’re not total experts at covering up what they don’t want you to see.

Hordak comes up to Odessa, tinkering away with one of her personal tech projects. He leans slightly forward, “If you turn that bolt to the left, you should be able to get the polarity to work.”

Odessa, mutely, does so. At the sound of it working, she smiles at him, “Thanks, Dad!”

Smiling in turn, he pulls up a chair and sits beside her. He reaches for a wrench, and tightens a loose bolt, “You’ve been deep in thought as of late, Odessa. Are you excited for the expedition?”

“Yes! It’s going to be exciting,” she replies. She takes the wrench from her father with a lock of hair. “I haven’t heard from Tristan yet on whether he can come, but Hydrangea informed me her mothers are allowing her to go.”

Hordak gives a quiet nod. They enter the state of routine: Odessa works, and he watches. She asks for tools and he hands them to her. Their roles reversed from when she was a child. In addition, he gives her suggestions about what to do next and she’ll do it, or make notes for future projects. Hordak glances at Odessa. Not wanting to disturb the silence, but she breaks it first.

“What is it?” Odessa asks.

“Traveling to Inicos will take a fair amount of time,” Hordak begins. “Even with a portal taking you a part of the way, you will be absent for a while.”

Odessa giggles, looking up at him, “Aw, are you going to miss me, Dad?”

“Of course,” Hordak says, sincere. He turns to her, eyeing her movements. “You are my daughter. I want you to be safe on this mission. You’ve been gone before, but this is different…”

“It’s not too different,” Odessa replies, eyes centralized on her work. “I’ve been on trips before.”

Hordak inhales deeply, then exhales. “I know.” But there’s an aspect to this venture that is niggling the back of his mind. “You have a… passion for this journey that is dissimilar to the ones prior.”

Odessa’s hair moves around the table, skimming over the tools, “I guess I do.”

“Odessa.”

She looks up, meeting her father’s eyes.

“You would tell me about your goals, wouldn’t you?”

Odessa’s eyes flit over Hordak’s face, his expression earnest, open. “Yeah, Dad. I would.”

At his smile, Odessa stands up, “I’m going to get a snack. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you. I’ll wait for you to return.”

“Okay,” Odessa tells him, walking out of the room.

Hordak’s smile fades, unable to shake that niggling sensation.

“Launch day!” Entrapta yells. “Are you excited, my little cupcake?”

“I’m born to be excited!” Odessa shouts.

The two look at each other, shaking their hands and screaming in anticipation. Emily spins in a circle, letting out a long beep, as Imp yells in his natural voice.

Hordak stands with his arms folded, chuckling.

Entrapta kicks her legs in the air, cackling at the top of her lungs, “This is an absolute thrill, and I’m not even going! Ooooh, my baby is going away for a while! Ah, I’ll miss seeing that cute widdle face every day!” For added emphasis, she squishes Odessa’s cheeks together, kissing her nose.

Odessa doesn’t pull away, a light blush on her cheeks, “I know, Mom. I’m gonna miss you too.”

Withdrawing, Entrapta goes into scientist-mode, “Now, remember: your uncles will be there to greet you and answer any questions you may have. By the time you arrive in Inicos, they should have a portal functioning again, so they can send you back to Etheria directly. Make sure to contact them when you are nearby.”

Odessa nods, shaking in place. Her heart always beats faster when she’s about to head out into space. She hasn’t been to Inicos in a long time, that it’ll practically be new. She has so much to look forward to! She hopes this won’t be a dead end before her true exploration begins.

She looks to her left, waving, “Gea! You’re here!”

Hydrangea walks up, Scorpia at her side, “Hey!”

Entrapta scuttles over to Scorpia, the two going for a large hug. Scorpia picks up Hordak, and he shakes his head in resignation, despite the smirk on his face.

“Must you?” he asks.

“Every time, Lord Hordak!” Scorpia teases.

“Scorpia,” he threatens.

“Whoa, haven’t heard that tone for years!” Scorpia says, setting him down. “Brings back memories.”

“I know,” Entrapta says in a softer tone, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Hordak blushes, clearing his throat.

Hydrangea glances around the hanger, “Where’s Tristan?”

Odessa shrugs, “I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

“He’ll be here soon, I think,” Hydrangea replies.

Odessa isn’t sure. She’s been holding out on his reply for weeks. Well, it’s not that she isn’t sure about his intentions; it’s his parents she isn’t certain of, and even then it’s just the one.

Hydrangea touches her shoulder, “I’m going to get my things inside the ship. Relay the plan to me when I get back.”

“Alright,” Odessa says. Arms folded, she taps her fingers quickly against her skin.

The hours pass and Odessa sets the final cargo in Celeste’s compartments. Sighing, growing frustrated and upset, she continues moving about the ship.

Hydrangea stares out at the front, equally worried.

Entrapta walks up to Odessa, “Has he arrived yet?”

“No.”

“I have everything set up for you in the cockpit,” Entrapta says, sitting on her hair.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Entrapta pats her back, “You still have an hour before you head out.”

“I know.”

Hydrangea suddenly yells, “Tristan! There you are!”

Odessa looks up, screaming at him, “You son of a bitch, where’ve you been?!”

Tristan runs up to them, an apologetic grin on his face, “Packing!”

Hydrangea holds a hand to her chest, “Thank goodness, we were beginning to worry.”

“If you missed out on this trip, I was going to be pissed at you forever,” Odessa tells him.

Tristan laughs, placing his luggage in the ship, “Well, you can love me more now.”

Odessa rolls her eyes, despite the smirk on her face.

Soon enough, they’re heading inside the spaceship. Entrapta is squealing in joy, kissing Odessa’s face. Scorpia hugs Hydrangea tightly, and pulls Tristan in for good measure.

“Have fun! Keep me updated on all the cool stuff you find!” Entrapta says.

“You got it, Mom!” Odessa replies, giving a salute.

Hordak comes up to her, patting the top of her hair, “Take care, Odessa.”

She pushes the top of her head into his palm, “I will. You know me, I can handle anything.”

He smiles down at her, “I know you can. But…”

“But?” she repeats, eyes bright and alert.

“Nothing,” he replies. He draws his arms behind his back, “I wish you safe travels.”

Odessa beams at her parents, kissing both of them on the cheek. She runs into Celeste, and waves at her family as the ramp closes, “I’ll see you all soon!”

Hydrangea and Tristan are already in the cockpit, awaiting her instructions.

“You guys ready?”

“Ready!” they crow together.

“Let’s go!”

Celeste rises into the air, and once it breaks the atmosphere, it gives a jolt of energy and light.

Scorpia wipes her eyes, “Ah, I forget they’re not little anymore.”

Entrapta pats her shoulder, “We made food, do you want to join us?”

“That’d be nice,” Scorpia says.

Entrapta turns to Hordak, “You coming?”

“In a moment,” Hordak replies, staring up at the sky.

Smiling, she pushes up from the ground on her pigtails, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “She’ll be okay.”

Hordak’s gaze scans the stars. Wondering if he should’ve been more forthright with his thoughts. He supposes he can talk to her at a later point…

Observing the sky, he waits until it darkens before heading inside.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #odessa #entrapdak fankid #shera #spop

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dlamp-dictator · 4 years ago

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Allen X Rambles about Chapter 7

“I hope Episode 7 is focused on only 2 or three characters with little distraction... Amiya maybe finding out that Ch’en is slowly becoming Infected and helping her come to terms with that. Ch’en revealing her past to Amiya and the two connecting over losing so many close to them due to Oripathy. The two standing up to the political corruption of Lungmen, shoulder to shoulder, as women that refuse to see another life lost due to the indifference of a city’s politics.”

-Allen X, October 2nd, 2020, Rambling about Chapter 6

Man... I’m starting to believe it when they say Arknight’s story mode is longer than the Harry Potter series. Things are getting crazy in Chapter 7 and crazy-long to in terms of length. This chapter really had me on the edge of my seat as I read through it and as I played through because 7-16 and 7-18 were a bitch to get through that require some of the most precise timing I’ve seen in this game yet. That aside, I enjoyed a lot what I read and experienced.

And I wanted to talk about it a bit.

But first, as always, a synopsis.

Coming off the heels of Frostnova’s death and the realization of Wei Yenwu’s purging of the Lungmen slums, tensions are high and trust has been fractured between Rhodes Island and Lungmen. However, in the midst of Ch’en hot temper and Amiya’s cool head, Reunion is plans to send the Russian Ursusian city of Chernobog on a collision course with Hong Kong Lungmen, giving Ursus a cause to make war against Lungmen and its great region of Tawain China Yen. However, through some rather amazing political maneuvering and passionate words by Wei Yenwu’s wife Fumizuki, Rhodes Island agrees to mobilize in order to save Lungmen, the Infected, and the beloved daughter of Lungmen, Ch’en. But beyond Chernobog lies Patriot, Reunions greatest commander next to Talulah herself, who’s rage toward his daughter’s death is only matched by his disciplined mind and even more disciplined soldiers. It’s a fight to the center of the Chernobog to save as many lives as possible, even at the cost of this great general’s life.

An Addendum to 7-18

So between my venting about 7-18 when I talked about some fun Arknight’s lore a handful of people wanted to give me some advice on how to conquer that stage. Admittedly that venting was said out of anger and was much more acidic in tone than my usual essays and opinion pieces. I have since beaten that stage and I can give some of my thoughts on this advice. Some of it was helpful... some of it.

“AmIyA cAn TaNk PaTrIoT’s SpEaR tOsS!”

This is technically true and I was technically wrong. When Amiya’s S3 is active she gained increased Max HP and can in fact survive with a sliver of health. However, Amiya’s S3 takes quite a long time to charge even with her talent, and unless someone is actively blocking Patriot her can honestly spam his spear through for how long it takes Amiya to get prepped for her S3. This is more of an issue of Amiya’s balancing than with the game, but I’ll talk about that later.

“jUsT sTaLl PaTrIoT tO kEeP hIm FrOm UsInG tHe SpEaR tOsS!”

This would be pretty viable advice if Patriot didn’t one-shot my units. Yes, defenders like Cuora, Nian, Hoshigumi, and even tankier vanguards like Zima and Siege can tank at least one hit from Patriot without dying, meaning a squad of healers can just focus-fire on them while they do chip damage to Patriot and stall him out. However, Patriot’s phase 2 has him do constant damage to nearby units with his aura ability, so if he can get lucky enough, he take someone down to a sliver and let his poison damage finish off your staller before they get a chance to be healed. That strategy needs luck and some damn smart unit placement. Neither of which I honestly have.

“uSe SpEcTeR aNd DeBuFfErS!”

Again, this is also a pretty good strategy. Specter’s S2 makes her immortal for a limited time and pairing that with healers like Breeze and Celycon who reduce stun damage isn’t a bad idea. Characters that ignore or lower defense like Pramanix, Shamare, and Meteor are also good. This doesn’t work for me however since I only have Pram and the other debuffers are way too underleveled and not on my priority at the moment, and E2-ing units this late in the game just to take out one boss feels like madness.

“f12 CaN dOdGe ThE sPeAr ToSs!”

F12, W, Jessica, and FEater have a dodge chance. Their dodges are not guarantees. Yes, Patriot will target the ranged operator furthest from him and there are range tiles pretty close to his spawn point for that purpose. However, some of those operators have some pretty damn expensive DP costs and waste that on a chance to survive isn’t worth.And feeding Patriot ranged units that take over 30 seconds to redeploy is a waste of DP in general. And those either dodge chances aren’t viable. Them surviving isn’t a strategy, it’s a fluke, and you can’t depend on flukes in auto-deployment.

“Allen, you’re being kind of an asshole to what’s actually sound advice.”

Yes, I am.

I don’t care.

7-18 does things to a person, man. That stage breaks people. I lost sanity IRL just doing that stage or 20 times with a guide... dear lord this stage.

Anyway, moving on.

Story Notes

My, this story sure was thick, wasn’t it? It’s been while since I’ve been on a ride that wild. And this time around I don’t have any small issues to bring up. All the characters felt in character without breaking my suspension of disbelief. There weren’t multiple character arcs going on at once. And I even tolerated Kal’tsit berating the Doctor for reasons beyond his understand since she wasn’t discussing too many things that were above my head as the player.

No... I only have big issues.

But before that, I wanted to hit on some actual important notes that were very good and smartly written.

Rosmontis and Child Soldiers

This was probably the biggest takeaway for me. I know the Arknights community likes to poke a lot of fun about the child soldier thing and how Kal’tsit is harboring slave children, but... man, it makes so much since now.

These kids aren’t just kids, they’re all infected people with some rather scary abilities. Popukar has a history of mental instability coupled with monstrous strength. Ifrit has powers she can just barely keep under control and could set Rhodes Island ablaze at any point. Frostleaf and GreyThroat are deeply traumatized from their past. The Ursus Self Government are full of kids with hatred, resentment, and fear of both the world and themselves. The list goes on, but the fact is that these kids all either have abilities that would be a danger to themselves and others if they aren’t trained, or have emotional hang-ups that might very well have them lash out at innocent people if not put on a leash. Wouldn’t it be better to at least give them some training and let them hack and blast away at the actual bad guys? Wouldn’t it be better to at least make them a weapon for some kind of greater good? And would anyone else really treat these broken, powerful children as anything but weapons and warriors anyway?

I know this is about chapter 7, but I remember in Children of Ursus Rosa asked Zima why she fought, and Zima casually answered that she just liked fighting. It’d be far better to have someone with that mindset working for an organization like Rhodes Island than ending up in Ursus’s fold and blindly hacking at something she shouldn’t.

And I think it’s important to remind everyone that Amiya is the head of Rhodes Island and not Kal’tsit. She’s a big part of the organization, but it’s the bunny in charge. And the bunny that is herself close to a living nuke and is also has empathetic superpowers understands this probably better than anyone else, which is why she okays it.

Patriot and Reunion

As much as I despise, and I do mean despise, how cagey this series can be with it’s portrayal of Reunion’s morality I can understand why a lot of its members can see the group as being just. Patriot is a warrior of such renown and praise, and Talulah has so much charisma and power that I can see the group overlooking characters like Mephisto and W when the other two do so much for their members and general people. The Guerillas under Patriot behave like soldiers. They don’t rampage, loot, pillage, or harm everyone in sight, only those that halt, stagnant, and harm the infect. Talulah has a charisma about her and attracts people, and seems to come from some sort of royal/noble line to match. And while Faust wasn’t mentioned much in this chapter, he was a soldier that started at the bottom, worked his way to the top, and made sure to play by rules that kept his moral high ground. Mephisto seems to be the only outliner here for some baffling reason.

But... there are some major issues with this story. I hint at them every time I talk about Arknights’ story, but I’ll go into depth here. And I’ll present these two issues I have in the form of a two question:

Who is the Doctor?

I don’t mean this the sense of the story, but what is his function as a character? Is he a self-insert for the player, or his own character to be explored and examined?

And either answer, to me, is wrong.

The Doctor Isn’t a Self-Insert

It’s straight up impossible for the Doctor to be a self-insert character. Most self-inserts are blank enough to let us place our own personality onto them and the situations their in the choices they make are meant to be more or less choices we’d make or at least a general audience could make barring some specifics. Their personalities tend to be blank or at least bland to let us, the players, live through them and project our personalities onto them.

The Doctor isn’t this.

There are too many moment where our choices are clearly pointing to one conclusion and most choices, though varied, give a clear idea that the Doctor is someone that care about the operators’ wellbeing deeply and hates seeing them used, abused, or manipulated. They are strategist and commander, but they have enough humanity to not see people as tools. They are passionate when they see other operators and especially Amiya in harms way and tries to come up with strategies to minimize lost and causalities. Awhile we, the player, feel the same in this regard the Doctor has dialogue that feels more conversational and toward specific directions than what a player would likely want and gives us some bits and piece about what they’re actually like.

The Doctor hates Kal’tsit and wants little to do with her, only tolerating her presence as much as she is with the Doctor. The Doctor is a bit of a bleeding heart that doesn’t fully grasp that they are constantly in a warzone despite their strategic competency. The Doctor has an extremely weird diet and eating style, devouring live animals and ingesting foods that would probably need to be probably mixed and brewed before consumption. The Doctor still sees Amiya as a child despite her mature nature.

The list goes on, but there’s enough there for me to say the Doctor is more like Hakuno Kishinami of the Fate/Extra series, a character that seems like a self-insert but has a number of traits and character tics that keep them from fulfill that role. However Fate/Extra, for all I have against it, makes Hakuno work by giving them their own internal thoughts outside of the player’s actions that explain their dialogue choices and actions outside of the player’s control. The Doctor doesn’t, so them being a self-insert feels really weak and irritating when the dots stop connecting.

But despite this...

The Doctor Isn’t Their Own Character

Too much of what the Doctor does is passive. For a clear as their personality is, at least to me, they don’t have much agency in the plot. Not enough for me to call them their own character at least. They commander the battlefield, but they don’t have a place on it. They don’t have much reason to interact with characters like Patriot and Talulah unless its on the metaphorical and literal chessboard we’re playing on.

Every time the Doctor says something that advances the plot in some way I feel like it could be said by another character and work better. Amiya trying talk down Patriot and explain that Frostnova fought bravely did not need the Doctor’s interjections, especially when Patriot shoots them down in the same manner. In chapter 6, being trap with Frostnova would had worked much better with Amiya since that chapter was giving them parallels anyway. The only thing that really works is the Doctor trying to call out Kal’tsit for her treatment of Rosmontis as a soldier despite her age, as that’s only something that someone who didn’t have the full context could do.

But... Jessica, Frostleaf, Frostnova, Melantha and several other Operators are young teenagers and even children. Specter and Lappland are clearly just as mentally damaged and still going into battles. The Doctor knows the kinds of people that fight for Rhodes Island, so isn’t this just another young fighter like Popukar and Suzuran? Hell, in chapter 6 we canonically had Beagle and Fang in a stage where they had to fight and tank Faust, why is the Doctor so surprised that someone like Rosmontis exist and works for Rhodes Island?

See?

See how trying to give this character separation from being a self-insert and actively slot them in the active story does more harm than good?

I think games like Girls Frontline and Honkai Impact 3rd do this better, where the player character is clearly more behind the scenes and is only a passing influence, if any.

But that leads me to my next question, which is...

Who is Amiya?

Amiya falls into the trope of being a cute anime girl with a mysterious past and dangerous powers. More accurately, she has a mysterious past and powers to the player, but everyone in Amiya’s inner circle seems to have a clue about it. I don’t mind this being a mystery, but... when our main character’s plot revolves around things the player doesn’t know, it’s curious at best, and infuriating at worse.

Folks, I’m not someone that looks to theory-crafting. I’m not someone that reads every scrap of dialogue in this game to find out more about its lore. The lore, to me, is just fun and interesting. I honestly do not have the time and energy to spend on making theories and predictions that could be wrong and a waste of mental energy. However, with all this stuff about the King of Fiends just feels like a waste of time, or at least a last minute addition to something I could had been added properly in Chapter 8.

A lot of it feels like you had to know about the Darknight Memoir side story to really get a feel for what’s going on. The Sarkaz civil war, Theresa, W’s role back when Rhodes Island was Babel, a lot of things that don’t come up in the main storyline. Especially with that bombshell about the Doctor maybe killing Theresa.

I don’t like it when a story expects me to have read the spinoff to understand the mainline story. This is why I don’t like the Dragon Age series and I’m really getting annoyed with Arknights right now.

This bombshell of the King of Fiends also kind of sours a bit of Amiya’s character as this young child who rose through the ranks of Rhodes Island as a charismatic leader being able to steel optimism with the reality of war to forge ahead as a proper leader through her abilities as both a commander and an empath. Instead it’s beginning to come across that her skills as a leader comes from something more supernatural, or at least something more forced than "small child is a good leader and can lead an army,” which is surprisingly more believable and nuanced given how seriously the series takes Amiya’s character.

That said, I recognize this criticism is more my wish of what was rather than an issue of what is. I completely understand that essentially wishing for my own fanfic and limited fan theories to come true isn’t a sound criticism, but it's a criticism I have regardless.

But moving on, there’s one more issue that bugs me.

W’s Importance

I’ll keep this brief since I already discussed my bigger issues of the story and this is an admittedly small portion of the story:

W wasn’t utilized much in this story despite being a main feature of it in the promotional material. She has a pretty lengthy intro, disappears from the story for most of it, then reappears at the last bits of chapter 7 to make mean looks at Kal’tsit and the Doctor before being literally shoved offscreen again. I’ve already discussed my issues with the Doctor’s agency so I won’t bother here.

W’s banner should had been during Darknight Memoir, it just makes more sense given she was the feature character of it and her high physical damage would had been a goodsend among all the arts-resistant Sarkaz units of that series of chokepoint-heavy maps, similar to Weedy’s inclusion her is helpful as a lot of these maps could use a good pusher, especially 7-16.

Speaking of, Weedy, the other operator on this limited banner, has no presence in the story at all. Need I remind you in the last limited banner Aak and Hung at least had cameo-esque appearances in the Ancient Forge event. Weedy’s inclusion feels like an afterthought because they didn’t want the limited 6-Star to have a good chance to be pulled for the whales.

Anyway, I believe those are all the big issues I had with this story, so...

In the Future

As I always tend to say, I don’t like the idea of trying to fix something that has already been made and has already passed. It’s too late to change the past, but I see nothing wrong with asking for things to happen in the future as a way of giving feedback.

To that end, I still have hope that Chapter 8 will have a focus on Amiya and Ch’en tackling Talulah together. From my understanding of some spoilers this is more or less what is going to happen. I also hope that we’ll have a more detailed idea on this whole King of Fiends thing is about. As much as I personally don’t care for it, it’s already be discussed in the story so I at least hope we get the full idea on what’s going on with that plotline.

I also hope the Doctor either plays less a role or becomes their own character outright away from any player influence. Us speaking through a character that already has a personality feels weird to me and I’d rather not have it at all.

Anyway, that’s it for me folks. Next time... maybe I’ll talk about anime or something, who knows.

#your dictator is speaking #arknights

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writingsilly · 4 years ago

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Underwater (ch. I)

Description: Your bad behaviour led you to stay the whole summer in your town of birth with your grandfather. The very first day, you went for a walk to the beach and had an encounter with a stranger that would change your whole life.

Pairing: Reader x Merman!Taehyung.

Genre: Angst, suspense, sci-fi.

Trigger warnings (!!!): Blood, swearing, angst.

Click here to read in AO3!

I: An Encounter

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When you arrived, the guilt of having left so easily without putting up a fight or some resistance hit you right away deep in your chest. Maybe because in your way there, you started to miss the big city and wondered why you hadn’t been smarter and just behaved properly, that way your father wouldn’t have felt the need to “straighten you up.” It was a shame that his idea of turning you into someone a little more affectionate and sympathetic was to tear you apart from your friends and the city it had been your home since you were sixteen years old.

At first, you fought the tingly feeling that had set in the pit of your stomach when you recognized the salty aroma in the air and the warm breeze. The pride that came with your father putting your suitcases on the floor and leaving you without giving you a second glance was way too strong to ignore it. You couldn’t pretend you were surprised or hurt by his actions, he was mad anyway and it wasn’t something uncommon coming from him. Ever since he decided that dealing with your grandmother’s death was less important that work, his feelings kinda vanished. He still cared about you, that wasn’t the problem, but he sometimes needed to be reminded that raising a child, with no help at all also, was more than a lonely note stuck in the refrigerator saying “won’t be back ‘til late. Order some food.” But you couldn’t really complain, could you? You had the freedom every person your age dreamed of.

What dragged you back to your birth town, apart from a long trip by plane, wasn’t a poor attempt of calling his attention, as anyone might have concluded. This happened to you because you pushed the limits a little too much, it just got out of hand. What started with dipping your toe into what seemed like the perfect life, ended up with being suspended three times and eventually your expulsion. It was simple at first, skipping one period of History, to begin with. But that period turned into two and it all concluded with skipping weeks just so you could walk around the city with no destination at all. Sometimes your friends, Jungkook and Hoseok, would follow you. Other times, you would disappear for a good few hours. You were so used to being alone in your house, you might as well find a place that made you happy even in your isolation.

It took some time, but you finally found it enjoyable to be alone. When your friends couldn’t be there for you for whatever the reason was, you would take a random bus and get off somewhere you didn’t fully recognize. You would wander there and come back home really late, but not late enough for your father to notice that because he hadn’t come back from work yet. It wasn’t hard for him to notice that you weren’t doing good in school. A call from the principal and a miscalculation from you resulted into for father actually taking that call and a very long talk about your future, about how the last year of high school practically defines you and about the plans he had for you, great universities and an even greater career. You didn’t care about any of that. Right then it just didn’t seem worthy to work so hard for something you father wanted for you. He didn’t even bother to share what he had planned for you, let alone listen to what you wanted. It didn’t take a genius to assume that what he was thinking of for you would turn you into an even sadder figure of him.

Your grandfather was basically the only one who, despite his advanced age, understood you completely. Even when your father informed him, you knew he wouldn’t have asked questions of why you were visiting him for the whole summer. He was too happy to see you after three years. After hearing the news of your expulsion, he smiled and let you in, ignoring your father’s indications; that you were grounded, and needed discipline. It was refreshing to finally trust an adult. Back in the city, you only had Hoseok and Jungkook, and they were fun to hang out with and they were the closest thing you had to a friend. Nevertheless, you missed the feeling of being taken care of. A nice home-made meal every now and then, to talk about important things related to family, that kind of stuff, the stuff that only a relative can deliver.

The floor of the old beach house still cricked whenever you stepped too hard, you noticed as you walked into the guest room and dropped your suitcases and bag pack on the ground. You recalled the countless times you had crashed here whenever you were too tired to go back next door, to what was at the time where you lived.

“I haven’t had the time to set the bed,” your grandfather sighed, “my back is killing me, so I hoped you could do that for me.”

The bed stood in the middle of the room, naked and surrounded by two antique nightstands. Both of them had a night lamp that you doubted they functioned correctly since they had never, even when you were a child. You had never been scared of the dark and your grandparents rarely received any visits, so they had never felt the need to change the bulbs of said lamps. In the mornings, the sunshine was enough to light up all the room and the almost transparent curtains certainly helped with the natural illumination.

“Sure, let me unpack and I’ll do it.”

He ruffled your hair and then chuckled.

“I’ll make some sandwiches.”

After unpacking, you dropped all your weight on the just set bed. The springs ground against each other because of the sudden movement and you swore that one of them poked you somewhere in your back, but it had never felt more like home.

With your phone in your hands, you spent the next hour to catch up with your friends. It was hard to get to have your mobile back in your power. Your father had confiscated it as part of your punishment and refrained from hearing your countless reasons why you shouldn’t leave the city without any kind of communication. It was a pleasant surprise, or maybe it didn’t come as such as a surprise, to know that your father hadn’t changed his mindset and kept his sock drawer to hide things from you, such as confiscated things, or in a more joyful scenario, Christmas presents.

Hoseok We already miss you here (19:07)

Jungkook You left a bobby pin in my house, come back to get it (19:13)

It was heart-warming. Your chest hurt a little from the separation, and you knew it was only going to be two months away and you could always call them whenever you felt too lonely, but still, there was some excitement tingling inside you because you were aware that you were going to meet them again. The distance just made your heart grow fonder.

You were already feeling a little weird without your things around you. Back in the city, your room wasn’t that cheerful itself, but you made sure to make it that way. The white walls were covered with little drawings, fallen leaves you had collected randomly because they looked too pretty to leave on the floor just like that, and postcards of the places you dreamed of going someday. You knew that if you decided to change the colour of the walls, you would get bored of it soon, so you figured that keeping them plain blank was the perfect chance to customize them as much as you wanted, and you could easily change your mind, your likes or dislikes and it would be as trouble-free as unsticking everything you had put up on the walls. But now, looking here and there, you feel small. The beige walls seem like they are towering over you. It was hard to picture yourself as a little kid in this very same room. Right then, the room seemed boring as hell. Sure, it was where you used to sleep as a child after your grandfather told you a story and those memories would never ever leave you, they had a very special place in your heart, but you came to the conclusion that it was going to be impossible to shield yourself inside the house all the summer like you had planned to do. You had your phone, but you knew that it was only a matter of time until you get bored and feel the need to do something, anything. Besides your mobile, the most interesting thing the room had to offer was maybe the window that had a not so clear nor close view of the beach.

“Why don’t you take a walk?”

Your grandfather really needed to learn how to knock.

“Grandpa! You almost gave me a heart attack…” You yelled with your hand on your chest. Your heartbeat was basically drumming like crazy beneath your palm.

“Those are no fun,” he commented, probably speaking from experience, with a blank expression. “If you are done here, take a walk before it gets dark. Your father said something about curfew, but I just don’t want you walking alone if it’s late.”

It was nice to have an authority figure being kind to you for a change. Not that your father hadn’t been because that would’ve meant he engaged a conversation with you every once in a while, and that literally only happened if you ever got in trouble, but with him being absent all the time, it was hard for anyone to notify him about your playing hooky, or stuff like that.

“I promise I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

You had forgotten how good the summer breeze felt on your skin. The sand was particularly sparkly when the sun was giving its last goodbye. The sand felt warm between your toes, the weight of your body sunk you a little because it was still wet from the high tide. A sudden desire to walk into the sea and put your feet in the water hit you, but you refrained. You knew better than that. There was a high possibility that once in the water, you weren’t going back to your grandfather’s for a long time.

You kept wandering. The sand, once so shiny and golden, turned into a cloud of almost blue dust that seemed as if it had been sprayed with little diamonds when nobody was watching when the moon appeared. The temperature had dropped a little, and you scolded yourself for not having brought a light sweater, the one Jungkook had unpacked, along with other things, from one of your suitcases so he could fit inside of it and you would “bring him with you”. The recent memory made you smile while you tried to shield your chest with your arms against the cold wind. You didn’t remember the night to be this cold and it was probably because when you used to live here, at this hour, you were tucked in bed, probably hearing your grandfather ranting about some nonsense or maybe even sleeping after a long day.

Wait, what time was it?

Automatically, your hands flew to the back pocket of your high-waisted shorts. Your phone wasn’t there. You had left it charging on the nightstand. Great.

There was no much more left to do, really. The beach could extend itself for kilometres if you recall correctly, and you weren’t really on the mood nor with the right attire, a tank top, a pair of shorts and also bared foot, to walk more than just a little bit more.

Your bored eyes checked around and recognized, not too far, the old fishing dock still standing proudly just above the salty water. You had given it for totally destroyed. Even when you were here, that thing had never looked solid and for that very reason, you had never dared to put a single foot on it. You remembered that whenever your father and grandfather left you with the lovely family just across the beach house and went fishing (since they didn’t have a boat they just went to the dock to test their luck) you were practically begging and clutching into their legs so they would change their mind and stay with you. In the end, they would come back, sometimes empty-handed, other times, with a bucket full of fishes for dinner, but safe and sound much to your relief. Back then, you were convinced that only strong people like them could walk through that delicate wooden runway and come back alive to tell the tale. Now you were all grown-up, kind of, and you knew it wasn’t magic or anything like that what allowed them to come back home with not one scratch, but the result of a well-thought architecture.

A little spark inside your chest ignited at the sight of the dock. You didn’t really think about it and run towards it, because that’s the only way doubt creeps in and stops you from doing something that might be a great story to tell when you’re old enough to think that talking to strangers in the bus about the adventures of your youth is socially acceptable and not at all weird.

Soon, you were in front of the only step that separated you from the dock. It was dumb, you realized. You literally were with both your feet on the sand, gasping for air because you had run to get where you were standing, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to step on the wooden boards ahead. It seemed like a huge step, and you didn’t even know why. The first tread seemed pretty solid if someone were to ask you and there were no nails that could possibly nail into your skin and give you tetanus, because, come on, those nails were rusty as hell. There was no reason that kept you from walking down the dock. Nothing. Your father wasn’t there to call you and remind you about your curfew, and even if he had been here, you didn’t have your phone with you. And your foolish fear from when you were a child had been long forgotten. That only left you, and the wooden path.

You walked in the dock.

It was an anti-climax if you were honest. All the fear but also craving to walk down it you had bottled up since you were just a child it didn’t explode like when you shake a soda and pop it open, it just slipped through your fingers like water. You practically watched it dry off on the floor. How disappointing… There was nothing special about the old wooden boards, and the wind was chillier than before. Despite that, you decided to continue your little stroll until the end of the trail. Once there, you sat down and took advantage of the situation to put your feet in the sea.

Hoseok and Jungkook would’ve jumped into the water in no time, you thought, and you would’ve done the exact same thing. But, now you didn’t want to do it. Maybe because it was a little late, you could tell your body was asking for some rest already, or maybe because there was no one to prove anything to. Back in the city, you had your friends, the ones that had met you when you were trying to taste the new freedom your father was giving you so recklessly, and then you had him, your father. But he was a different story. If you had wanted to prove something to him, you would’ve made sure that he noticed you, and that was far from your desires. Sometimes you wanted nothing more but for him to completely forget about you. Yes, he was never home but he still tried to take your future into his hands and if he forgot about you, you could be the only owner of your destiny.

Your feet were softly dancing in the water and you rested your chin in the palm of your hand, devoting your time to watch the movement of the water. The moon, reflected on it, would distort and turn into one million figures by the simple motion of your body, and you were so drowned into it that you almost didn’t notice the water bubbling up. At first, you didn’t think much of it, it had been probably you with your feet, but the bubbles kept coming up even after you had removed your feet from the water. It reminded you of boiling water, and there was certainly something underneath causing all that fuss. The night didn’t help at all, and you found yourself leaning into the water to have a better view of whatever it was down there. The bubbles were only making it harder to distinguish anything at all and you were about to give up when a strike of light blinded you. You fell on your back, almost hitting the back of your head. Your eyes burned considerably, you rubbed them with the hope of relieving the sting.

“What the hell?” You murmured to yourself.

There was something down there, the pain your eyes were going through was the proof.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking a little to get used to the light again. You crawled to the end of the dock. The bubbling had subsided and there was no trace of light or anything at all there, but you knew that something had caused that reaction of the water and that dazzling luminescence. Looking for answers, you checked around you. All seemed clear; the sea was calm, and there was no one in sight. You started to doubt your own common sense. Your head was somewhere else right then. You had had a long trip today and you didn’t remember the last time you had gotten a good night sleep. Maybe your brain had had enough and it finally had drained out of judgment for the day.

In the middle of the silence, a splash was heard nearby, almost next to you. Your head turned in the direction of the noise, and you saw it again; that glow. It wasn’t as dazzling as before but it sure wasn’t hard to notice. It looked like the moon had fallen right into the ocean. Perhaps your sleep-deprived-self was finally giving up, but if the moon hadn’t been above you in the sky, shinning as always, you would’ve honestly believed that it was in the ocean right then. You didn’t notice how the shiny object, that wasn’t the moon, started to approach the dock with languid movements from one side. The only thing you got to hear from your tired mind was “run”, you followed the advice and backed away from the borderline of the path. You must’ve stepped too hard because of the nerves and the pure panic caused one of the old and mouldy wooden boards to snap in half, trapping your left foot. Your toes grazed the salty water beneath the dock. You were now knee-deep between the timber trail and the sea. While your leg had slipped in the hole you had created, the splintered wood had scratched the sides of your calf. The salt in the water just made the pain even worse. You couldn’t drown the whine of pain that got out from your mouth. Your head echoed that torn sound over and over again, it was almost as if you hadn’t stopped screaming for a second. You sounded pitiful, scared and overly vulnerable, yet nobody was coming for your rescue. It was late, dark and the closest family lived like half an hour walk away, that was if they were even home.

In a desperate attempt to unstuck your leg, you rocked it back and forward and tried to use both your hands to lift your body. Your right knee was getting tired of being pressed against the wood, and you were scared that the ancient structure wouldn’t take your weight any longer and lose another part, letting you fall once and for all. Nevertheless, there was no use. Your lower limb was basically compressed there, and the more you moved, the more damage it inflicted to your muscle. The splintered wood was breaking the first layer of skin of your leg, leaving behind a raw trail. Your blood was probably joining the salty water. You begged whatever was stalking from under the sea didn’t like the taste of blood because if it did, it was being attracted to you by the smell of it.

Besides your rushed breathing, you could hear near to nothing around you. This little town barely had a twentieth of the population the city you had been living the past few years had; even if you screamed your lungs out, nobody would hear. The few people that lived here were far away enough to hear whatever was happening on the beach, moreover, they were asleep.

A cold shiver licked your body from the inside, all the way from the tip of your toe, going through your spine, to end at the top of your head. There was something wrapped around your foot. A frozen grip that kept growing tighter and tighter. You couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the cold touch, or maybe it was the fact that you were terrified, but your body refused to respond to your brain. You were trapped in every sense of the word; your leg was impaled between splintered wood, something was clutching at your foot, and your body wasn’t responding. The grip was familiar, it felt almost like a hand. You could feel fingers too, but it had sharp claws at the tips. The claws grazed your skin as if it was trying to calm you down. Too bad it only made you reminded you of how cows are stunned before being killed. The touch was relatively melodious considering the circumstances. Melodious since your breathing wasn’t hurried anymore. Somehow, you had accomplished to synchronize your breathing with the movement of those delicate brushes on your skin; inhaling the closer it got to your thigh, and exhaling when it went down to your toes. Hypnotizing. A hypnotizing touch that went in a spiral to your core. Your mind was clouded by pleasing grey fog. All the worries vanished just like that. There was nothing in your mind. In your head, you were floating above water, a soft tide swinging your body back and forward. It seemed so real.

“Feeling any better?”

No matter how velvety that voice was, your breathing got stuck in your throat. It didn’t make you feel safe, quite the opposite, because there was no one around that could be the owner of that voice. It was literally coming from the dark.

The air wasn’t fresh anymore, you weren’t sure if you were breathing anymore. There was a weak beeping in your ear, accompanied by the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. You wanted to cry.

In your dazzled state, the only thing you succeeded to rescue was that single thought: run. So that’s what you decided to do. You tried to pull your leg out of the hole, again, not caring about the sharp pain on your thigh, ignoring the thought of how the shattered wood was peeling your skin off. You screamed when the underwater grip got tighter around your ankle. The claws, pinning in your skin, were like a shot of frozen, but bubbly, liquid into your veins. You stopped fighting, not because you wanted, but because you were physically unable to move. You knew there was no use on crying for help, but oh, how would you’ve loved to be able to scream until your lungs burned, that would’ve been the only source of warmth in your body.

You wondered if the wood had already cut off your circulation; if it was easier to chop off your leg completely, but you knew that the answer to those questions was no. You could feel how cold the water was, that hand, still gripping onto your ankle. There was no doubt, the circulation was there.

At this rate, you weren’t sure if there was someone, or something, that could have mercy on you. You glanced around you, attempting to see through the tears that were clouding your sight, seeking for anything that could be of utility, maybe something you could use as a lever, but there was nothing around, just old and broken wood boards that wouldn’t be helpful. The whole deck was made out of them, and thanks to this situation, you had confirmed the obvious; they were fragile, they couldn’t support your weight…

That’s it!

You took a deep breath, bent your body to one side, lifted your arm, and then lowered it with might, hitting the wood board that was right next to the one your leg was stuck in with your elbow. It cracked, but it didn’t break. You tried again until it eventually broke in half and both pieces fell in the ocean. The board around your leg followed them. You were too shocked to move, but when the realisation hit you, and you dared to look down, there was nothing holding onto your ankle. You moved back from there, just in case, and raised your leg up with the help of both your arms to carefully straightened it up the best you could. There were fresh, but superficial cuts all around it, right above your knee, those you were expecting to see. The rest of your leg was rather unharmed, except for your ankle. Blood was dripping from four vertical cuts. You gasped at the sight. It looked bad and you were sure it would look even worse if you didn’t do something about it. You had to apply pressure to the wound, you remembered you had read that somewhere.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It was that voice again. No matter how briefly you had heard it, you knew it was the same voice.

You turned around and found a pair of eyes staring right back at you. They belonged to a man around your age, you soon noticed. Half of his face was underwater, but you still could appreciate his exceptional features; high cheekbones, blond hair, a colour that would only be attainable with bleach, and sun-kissed skin. But the feature that truly captured your attention was his gaze. You were scared to death. Your knees were ready to give in. However, there was something about those green eyes that made your heart settle down inside your trembling body.

Despite your dry throat, you dared to speak.

“Who are you?”

There was no response. He raised both eyebrows as if saying “oh, really?”, and began to swim closer to the deck. You automatically tried to move away, which made him stop his tracks. He looked confused.

“Stay back,” you demanded.

Your voice was anything but confident, so you were surprised when he didn’t move an inch closer to the dock. The stranger simply held both hands in the air, showing surrender, but you didn’t let your guard down. There was something about his presence that made you feel uncomfortably calmed. A little voice in your head was telling you that he was to be trusted, but your body just wouldn’t stop reacting with rejection towards him. If he got any closer, he could easily overpower you. There was nothing you could defend yourself with, and you weren’t going to run off, your leg wouldn’t let you, so you decided to keep your distance using your hands to push your body further back from the edge of the dock.

“Who are you?” You asked again, louder.

The stranger rolled his eyes but he was quick to lock your gazes again with a bored expression. A shiver went down your spine and left a fire trace along with it.

Something was wrong, you could feel it.

In a poor attempt of hiding the fear that was washing over you, you tried to get on your feet. If this stranger was the person to blame for your wounded leg, you couldn’t let him know he had an advantage over you. So, with quivering legs, you stood up.

“You’re the one who did this to me.”

It wasn’t a question. You were almost certain that this man had hurt you. After all, he was the only one there with you.

He took the rest of his head out of the water. His lips were stretched in an unapologetic smile, but he stayed silent.

“You’re not going to deny it?” You asked frowning.

“Why would I?” He answered, surprising you, “you seem pretty sure about your theory.”

The sound of his voice vibrated on your chest, it almost threw you down your feet again. You knew you had heard his voice a few times that night, but it always took you by surprise. His voice was so powerful and dominating, you felt the need to surrender to him.

“Oh, the little girl is scared, isn’t she?”

His teasing tone made you grit your teeth in frustration. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Who are you?”

“You’re gonna keep asking that? Fine,” he scoffed. “My name is Kim Taehyung.”

Sharp pain in your wounded leg caused you to buck your knees and almost hit the ground. You had to do something about your injuries, otherwise, there was going to be an infection or worse. You went back to your previous idea and bent down to apply pressure on the wound.

“I wouldn’t do that…” Taehyung hummed.

At first, you weren’t going to listen to him because; in all honesty, who would listen to a creepy stranger that most definitely had hurt you? But he was still where you had asked him to stay, and he didn’t seem to be moving from there anytime soon.

“And why would I listen to you, huh? You literally cut my skin.”

Taehyung laughed bitterly, and then looked away from you to the night sky. You wondered if he was trying to make time, if there was someone hiding in the dark, ready to attack you. The thought made you shiver. Now you weren’t so sure that putting your guard down was such a good idea.

He kept his eyes on the sky almost peacefully. The fact that he could be so calmed around you while you were struggling to catch your breath just cleared up your actual situation; he was in power now and you couldn’t do anything about it, even if you tried. No matter how strong you thought to could be, he didn’t need to be careful around you, it was the other way around. The only thing you could do was to hope he would get distracted enough time for you to ran and hide until the morning came.

His gaze locked yours and he smiled.

“I’m surprised you’re on your feet,” he noted, “most of you don’t last this long.”

His tone was so calmed like he had done this exact same thing many times before. You had had a slight impression that he had planned this, but with what he had just said, you were now completely sure.

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, cold, freezing even, sweat but your body was heating up, boiling.

“Listen, I-”

“No,” he interrupted you, “you listen to me. If you want to live, don’t touch your wound.”

You had never liked for anyone to tell you what to do, but in this situation, you didn’t have a choice, did you?

While thinking of what to answer to him, you felt your knees shake. Your legs finally gave up. Your body hit the floor and you heard the wood board crack beneath you, you held your breath.

“What’s happening?” You urged.

“Are you new around here?”

“What?”

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to wander around the beach late at night, dumb girl?” He sounded confused, surprised even, but his tone changed after some sort of realisation. “Of course no one has. Your kind is characteristically stupid, always have been.”

The numbing feeling was spreading at a slow speed. Your feet were there, they were definitely there, but you couldn’t feel them.

“M-make it stop!”

You heard a sigh from beneath the dock.

“Panicking will only make it worse, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“What-”

“If you touch your wound, you won’t feel your arms in a matter of minutes,” he then explained.

Had he poisoned you?

“Now, stay still and listen to me, dumb girl. I’ve got something to tell you…”

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funkymbtifiction · 5 years ago

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Fe or Fi?

Hello there, how are you doing? Sorry to add one more submission ion flooding your blog, I’m not sure this will be of any use but I’d have a little question… The other day, I had a conversation via texting in a group chat, when this guy started taking me apart and we had a nice chat about MBTi but the thing is it completely destabilized me… To contextualize, a girl said something about ISFPs being the most honest type and got a shitstorm of offended people calling her out (not really relevant to the whole story but that’s related to the first answer I wrote) and I started chatting with her. Then the guy came in and here is what we said (Sidenote: I use a fair amount of emojis when I write… I’m not sure how important it is to the whole wooly booly but “he” mentions me being “bouncy” in the beginning so I thought I’d clarify what he means by that since we never met in real life ^^)

Me: sorry but the « we’re thankfully not that miserable » SOUNDS like trying to put ISFPs on a « special snowflakes » position :/ I’m not saying that’s what you intended, just that’s how it sounds to others and I think it’s important to understand what’s wrong in how you deliver a genuine good message and causes you to be misunderstood ^^’ Him: offtopic but I’ve been thinking for a while, are you sure you’re not ENFP ? You’ve got that emotional enthusiasm a lot of times, where I just wouldn’t bother (like… here ^^). Could be mobilizing Fe, but I’m starting to think it extends beyond that and includes Fi views (of being inclusive and enthusiastic). Me: I thought for a long time I was a Fi user too (and I still have moments when I question my type…) :) But after asking people who knew better than me, read about all those differences and basically, I care way too much to fit in and be accepted at the price of being my “true self” to be a Fi, even more a high Fi user. The person I show in this group is far from being the same as I am in real life :) The contrast with my sister, who is ESTJ and one of my ENFP friend is shocking (that’s when I started wondering if I was really one ^^). Even what you point out could be a proof I have Fe since Fe tries to actively impact others’ opinions and mood while a healthy Fi would be more “as long as you don’t hurt me or someone I like, I don’t care what you think :) ”. This quote for example, I used to think I had this mindset, that I wouldn’t mind what someone else believes or does, but the sad truth is I do. I will never violently shut someone off because of that but I’ll try to convince them what they believe or do makes no sense, and become extremely obnoxious in the process… Recently I started wondering if I’m not an FJ, maybe my Fe is actually higher than I first thought, but again, when I meet my ESFJ friends, my ISFJ step mother and my ENFJ best friend, I can see I’m clearly not as easy going with my emotions and feelings as them. I can be expressive and even fake emotions to adapt to the people around me, but in comparison, they’re way more enthusiastic and upbeat than I am, and know exactly how to respond to someone in distress when I would just stand there, awkwardly… ^^‘ I don’t know, of course I could be wrong and I’m still constantly learning but anytime I doubt, I see someone posting about ENxP and ExTP and I just feel a punch like “that’s so relatable it hurts” x) But I’m interested in all comments and advice ^^ I’m still trying to stop constantly questioning if I’m not an ISxJ or any other type, anyhow… Him: mmh, Fi users can be as much concerned with what others think of them. Fe vs. Fi is rather a question of how/why :) At least, I’m pretty convinced you’re not an ISTJ (and I don’t think I know when ENTP that could have doubts being ISTJ… doubts usually revolve around ENTJ, INTP, stuff like that, so this one is weird ^^). Me: Haha I’ve been through every single one of them x) I think the only types I was sure not being were INxJ and ENTJ since I don’t relate to high Ni at all :)

Now I guess it’s all a little confusing and really, if you don’t have an answer, I won’t expect you to bother thinking too much about it, but my only real question is if anything I said showed I’m a Fi user? :/ I won’t ask about my exact type, it’s just somehow, I “absorbed” this person’s opinion like a sponge, as if it were mine… and the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I was wrong all along… Also, the people I mention (friends, family…) are people I tried typing myself, so it could explain my mistakes, since I used them as comparisons. If any of you have the patience going through this, thank you a lot (thank you a lot anyway ^^) and have a nice day/evening!

There’s misconceptions about the judging axis from both of you, here.

Fi is not “emotional enthusiasm.” Fi is subjective judgments. A Fi user will judge that as fine, and this as not fine, in an inconsistent manner. When a Ti user points out, “But that is inconsistent,” a Fi will shrug and say, “That’s how I feel. I care about this, and I do not care about that.” It has nothing to do with emojis, or coming across as :) in conversations, it’s a process of self-filtering that ultimately comes down to, “I do not like this. I would not like that to happen to me. I have no experience with that to pull from, so I cannot tell you how I would act in that situation…” in an uncompromising manner. That’s why people call Fi “selfish.” It goes through SELF.

Fe is others-referencing. It needs no personal experience to care, it does not filter through self, it mirrors other people’s feelings, and it often “forgets” self in defending others and/or seeing through their eyes. “You should not do that, it is inappropriate / it offends others / it is an ill-informed opinion.” That is why Fe can be called “overbearing” or “interfering,” because it tends to police people who are not behaving appropriate to the situation. Fe thinks there are appropriate emotions in this context, and inappropriate emotions, and it’s better to express the right ones.

Just about everyone cares what other people think, just on a sliding basis. I care very much what people think of me… but it is all tied to my core Enneagram. I have no doubt your caring is also tied to your Enneagram, and that you have a social stacking, which further makes you AWARE of what others think of you.

Your comment that you “fake feelings to fit in” makes me think you are not high Fi, but then why are you doing it? It’s the why that matters, not the what. It’s why you think as you do, and feel as you do, and react as you do, that makes up your type, not what you are doing. People of different functions do the same things for different reasons. Other people being enthusiastic and upbeat really has nothing to do with you, because you may not be an enthusiastic or upbeat person, and neither of those things are “necessary” to be a Ne-dom. All you need to be a Ne-dom is... well, dominant Ne and inferior Si.

Several thoughts:

1) The fact that you others-reference so much in your argument could be one or two things – you are an extrovert or you are a Fe. An extrovert is not inward focused, it looks to the outer world first. A Fe is so busy thinking about other people’s behavior, it’s not thinking about itself. Which one are you doing?

2) Your inability to find your type and “constant questioning” does suggest high Ne, because they are universally the people who find it hardest to settle on a type and who are prone to picking out minor details to support a ridiculous self-typing (I say this from experience, I look back on typing ISFJ with angst). This comes from Ne’s tendency to believe things without any proof, and inferior Si’s inability to come up with specifics to ground their thinking in reality.

3) “I absorbed this person’s opinion like a sponge.” If you are running with other people’s ideas because they seem rational and reverse your thinking process to incorporate this new idea (despite having no proof), then you are probably a Ne-dom – they are inconsistent in their thinking because other people’s ideas stick to them like flypaper. It makes them adaptable and open-minded but also prone to pursuing absurd ideas about themselves, because that’s what this other person said about me!!

- ENFP Mod

#question #mbti #enfp #entp #istj #isfj #submission

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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Reports & Repertoire 8

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: Eddie can no longer ignore his physical sexual urges despite his shyness to expressing them around his symbiote. He has to start explaining the nuances of human sexuality with Venom, and they start by taking it slow. Venom learns that making Eddie feel good, makes him feel good.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Symbrock. Eddie and Venom Sex.

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Eddie had texted Candy every day like he promised he would. He didn't know how much longer he could keep Venom a secret as he grew increasingly more annoyed with Eddie and not telling Candy about him. He wanted to be with her like Eddie wanted to be with her and it didn't matter if Eddie admitted it to himself or not, he had an alien voice of reason to call him on his bullshit now. It'd been two weeks since he'd face timed with Candy and he wasn't sure how long the excuse of medicine making him sick and his apartment being a mess would hold up. Especially with an intuitive woman like Candy.

She offered to come clean, help him patch the place up, patch him up and he could tell she was growing more annoyed every time he turned her down for it. She wanted to see her friend. She wanted to see and touch him to know he was real. She was still upset over thinking he was dead and was trying to remain thankful that he was alive at all but she was starting to need more from him than just texts. She'd lay in bed and think about him, not a past time that she wanted to partake in as frequently as she was. But she was finding it hard not to when she was alone, thinking she'd almost lost him. That simply should push her towards admitting there was something more than just friendship there. She thought maybe she'd felt it from him too, but now she wasn't so sure.

Eddie really dove head first into work those two weeks. After long, pleading and deep conversations with Venom he felt confident he wouldn't slip out in public and ruin their cover. He still asked questions in his head, which made conversations difficult and coming back from being fired and working an event as big as the fall of the Life Foundation, it wasn't good form to be known as being aloof and twitchy. Which is how he knew he could appear. Most of the time he could function just fine but if he was emotional or Venom's natural curiosity took over his will to behave, life became somewhat of a headache. And this was a metaphorical headache, not a literal one, as with Venom he didn't get them anymore. And a body that was running at an almost perfect balance certainly made day to day a lot easier. No more food poisoning, no more colds, no more hangovers. He'd begun to think of Venom as a magical roommate who picked and chose when to use their powers for good or bad. When they were alone, he frequently chose bad or rather mischievous more often than not. The thing that helped Edie out the most, was Venom's growing fondness of him. If Eddie felt poorly, so did he and if he had to put more work into making Eddie and his body feel better, the hungrier he became. And Eddie wasn't fond of eating brains when it could be avoided.

Almost everything was running without issue for Eddie. Everything except one thing and with it being almost two weeks since he'd jerked off coming up, It was becoming more and more of a nuisance. Part of him simply didn't want to have to explain the intricacies of human sexuality to his friend, because that conversation would last days. The other part of him, no matter how intimate he'd become with his symbiote, still felt that human taboo about jerking off with other people watching, which wasn't something Eddie had found himself to be into. Well, the thought didn't appeal to him to do it in front of Venom anyway. Maybe in front of Candy. Yeah, Candy.

He shakes his head hard. Trying not think about her. She tried to keep conversations with him going, sending him pictures of puppies to cheer him up, meme's and tonight asking his opinion on an outfit for a meeting with a network, as he had met the guy before. Her in her well-tailored suits would've been a hard trigger for him before and now his kink for women in power suits was backfiring in a big way. Or rather, not firing at all and that was the issue. After he closes out the night, Venom watches Netflix. He'd let him while he slept so he could learn about earth, and it seemed to be helping curb the incessant, near constant questions from him.

Candy sends him a picture of her celebrating, a caption of 'wish you were here <3', her making a cute face and pouting, hair loose and messy, leaning on a bar in that suit, the tie loose, the top buttons undone and her shape on full display, it leads to impure thoughts immediately. He turns his phone over with a groan, Venom already engrossed in Planet Earth, and he goes to sleep.

It was inevitable really, the lack of release, the almost wet dream he was having of Candy. He's woken up by a concerned Venom.

"Eddie! What is happening?" he says with a twitching nature to his usual gooey softness. His tendrils are smushing Eddie's cheeks and bapping him about the head. He's pulled out of his dream and so close to getting off he didn't have to look down to know that he was rock hard. He rolls to his back with a groan.

"It's fine, man, I'm fine." he says in a deep, sleep filled voice.

"This has not happened before." He says, his head turning to look at the tent in the sheets.

"Yeah, it has. Lots of times, we just weren't a thing then." He wishes he'd just let him watch some sexual rom-coms so he'd not have been alarmed. But leaving him alone with American Pie level education of sex wouldn't be a good idea. He'd leave the parental controls on for now.

"We were dreaming of taking off our clothes with Candy."

"Yep." he says with a smack of his lips and he sighs. Sure, why not, let's have this conversation right now, in the middle of the night.

"What conversation?" he's asked and he clenches his jaw, remembering in the haze of sleep his thoughts can be heard. "Why were we taking off our clothes, we have never done that around another human."

"Yeah, we have. With Anne." he purses his lips.

He's quiet a moment as he sees foggy images of a bed and actions of a very similar nature being done with the other female, Anne. "What is this? A human ritual of some sort?" his iridescent eyes shift and catch the light. "This is a mating ritual isn't it?" he says with a quick jerk of his head in realization. Of course, Planet Earth, he would make the connection. "You would put this into the female. For reproduction." he says in such a scientific way that until he reaches and smooths over the tent where Eddie stood at attention, he had been starting to go soft.

"Hey, man, watch it!" he hisses, swatting him weakly with his hand.

"You want to reproduce with Candy?"

"We call it sex and I do want to have sex with Candy." he with a deeper inflection, nodding his head, rubbing his face.

"We want an offspring to care for?"

"No, no humans do it for pleasure. It feels good. We don't have to do it to make babies. Most people do it just because it's fun and it feels nice." he would've preferred to be more eloquent about his explanation but he was tired and horny and now annoyed.

"It feels good?" he asks, another tendril stroking over the sheets as Eddie grunts and shifts. He liked it when Eddie felt good. It was his favorite thing. When Eddie felt good, so did he.

"Yeah it feels great." he says with a soft huff of laughter.

"Does it feel good when we do this with anyone?"

"It can, but I'm more a romantic myself." he makes a joke his friend doesn't understand. "You can do it when you love someone, you can do it when you hate someone and every emotion in between. Sometimes sex means nothing, sometimes it means every thing." he says, flopping his hands at his sides, feeling almost as confused as the alien did.

"Sex is complicated." Venom states.

"It can be extremely complicated."

"But we felt good in our dream about Candy. This was a good thing. We did not hate it, it did not mean nothing."

"That's right. We like each other so, it can make it better when you do it with someone you like. It makes it not just about feeling good with your body, it makes it feel good emotionally too."

He's reserved, reflecting for a moment, reading Eddie's body, his engorged cock, his full tightened balls and the pulse of the vein that ran up his length. He could feel it all just the same as Eddie did. "I like you Eddie."

Eddie's eyes open fully. "Well, I like you too." he says, turning to face the bobbing head, not understanding fully what he meant.

"We can do this," he says rather softly, recalling how Candy spoke in Eddie's dream. A tendril slips under the blankets and Eddie feels the warmth and unearthly smoothness running down his thigh. "Would like to make us feel good Eddie." he says, as he feels more extensions of Venom reaching out over his body slowly. "Show us how to do this." he says, the prodding, fluid tips exploring Eddie's body gently.

"Well, I, usually do it myself. With my hand." he stutters, caught off guard by how good the warmth and sleekness of the vine-like fingers felt. He was also so painfully in need of release he imagines most anything would've felt amazing. He felt too tired and too needy to fight it. It also felt so natural, like an echo of a happy purr in his head, Venom feeding off the pleasure and giving it back to him.

"Show us, Eddie." he whispers, watching the light from the streets, blurred by his blinds over the windows reflect off the fluid body that was slowly wrapping around his limbs.

"'Kay." Eddie exhales hesitantly, pushing the covers past his tight boxer briefs. He shimmies out of them, leaving them somewhere on the bed, not that it mattered in his distracted state. He feels that anxious flutter in his stomach, feeling the same as if he were having sex with someone for the first time. He supposes it is like that, in a way. He takes a deep shaky breath, hands clenching and warming up, adjusting himself, testing out the sensitivity of his cock. Spreading his legs just slightly, one foot planted on the bed. He can feel the symbiote squeezing around his thighs, delicate tips of venom's potentially lethal extremities warding him from the cold air of the room, traveling up his hips to his stomach, almost a tickle with how they spread slowly.

Venom let Eddie guide the way but he had learned humans enjoy touch, and wanting to explore how to make Eddie, and thus himself, feel as good as possible, he wanted to explore Eddie's body from the outside. He could feel the tensing of muscles around his hips, a deep twitch that accompanied the bobbing of Eddie's cock. He felt before he would hear every sound Eddie made. The hot, wet tongue that licked over plush lips before a breathy exhale. The deeper groan that tried to escape as his teeth bit down on those same lips.

Eddie pushes down at the base of his cock, rubbing the soft flesh that surrounded it, a tease to himself before he gave in and wrapped his hand around himself. He presents himself in a way, differently from how he would do this alone. Which would have been quick, dirty and to the point, closing the browser as quickly as he could to not face the shame that would be waiting there for him in his sobered mind. He felt watched, his symbiote's head bobbing, a strange silhouette against the pale blinds in his window. Eddie tentatively wraps his fingers around himself, squeezing to test his grip, showing his voyeuristic friend how to be gentle.

"You can start slow... simple like this..." he whispers, a slow tug up to the head of his cock. It didn't take many strokes to have him standing at full attention again. Venom eyes narrow and his head tilts, taking in the sight before him, studying every thing Eddie was feeling and doing. As the precum gathers, the weight of it now sending it in a smooth descent down the tip of Eddie's cock, he takes his thumb and runs it over the head as he continues to stroke himself, a slight bend in his wrist as he subconsciously picks up speed. "You need..." he lets out a breathy exhale. "Lubrication, something to cut the friction." Being instructional and jerking off at the same time was proving more difficult than expected. "The head is the most sensitive." he whispers, a tiny moan as he incorporates sliding his hand to envelope his head completely into his routine. He grunts as he moves his other arm, his hand reaching down to cup his balls, now growing tighter. "But these feel good too." he says softly.

He feels Venom hum in agreement.

"Can't be rough with them though, or it'll hurt." he says after a brief fondling with his fingers, his hand retracting and Venom's tendrils replacing them, rolling them between two extended pliant limbs before his onyx smoothness covers his balls, causing a deep groan to come from Eddie. They're warm and feel wet without the moisture, like they'd been sucked into someone's mouth. The symbiote pays close attention, a gentle back and forth, a squeeze and release as it lightly frisks Eddie's balls.

Eddie lets his head fall back, his breathing growing faster along with his hand. A wince of his face as his eyes roll back in his head. Feeling a pressure grow inside him, Venom still observes him from the inside, see's his glands and ducts react, build and tense, his prostate serving a yet unknown function he'd been curious about.

"It does feel good, Eddie." Venom's deep voice rumbles out, his face close to Eddie's hand that stroked away at him. "Let us try." he says, a long solid arm growing from the shimmering almost-liquid that was prickling across his inner thighs.

Eddie figures, why the hell not. He lets go, and without hesitation, a matching grip is quickly found by Venom. At first, he simply mimics and Eddie is left with fluttering lids, getting jerked off by the symbiote. It soon shifts, causing Eddie's back to arch and toes to twitch as he's encased in an undulating blackness, encasing all of him with the slickness of a human body but with only Venom's unique ability to be everywhere all at once. His hips bucked and as goosebumps ran across his skin, the symbiote's outer layer rippled like the surface of water. The ability to have someone, something else feel exactly what you did as they did it was something afforded to no one else on Earth. At least to no one else that Eddie knew about. HIs hips pushed him up into Venom's softness, still in constant movement. It didn't feel like a human, not a mouth or other orifice, it felt like nothing else he could compare it to. No sex toy, even with the strangest textures inside those sleeves he'd used could replicate it exactly. It was something that was firm, but had give, felt hot without sweat and glided across him without it looking like it was doing anything at all. As he grew closer to climax, Venom's hold on him grew as well. He could see Eddie giving himself over, feel this delicious build that felt almost wrong, he knew something was going to happen, but he didn't know what.

"Is this feeling good, babe?" Venom says quietly, once again showing he was learning from Eddie's interactions with others and his thoughts.

"Yeah..." he whines. "This is...so fuckin' good." he moans. Venom shivers with happiness from the praise, his coverage over Eddie expanding, now between his fingers in an affectionate holding hands gesture, tickling up his neck and ears and making Eddie shudder. Venom notices the flinch as he moves across Eddie's nipples and starts to toy with them, drawing a muscle tensing groan from his wet lips.

"Good Eddie?" he whispers again.

"Yes." he huffs out, muscles starting to twitch, his hips starting to buck up involuntarily. The symbiote watches him vigilantly, seeing the flashes that cross his mind, seeing lips to lips, breasts and strong thighs as Eddie's mind tries to tie this feeling to something he's known before. He moves to hover over Eddie, that feeling close, that mystery that he keeps steadily pumping Eddie's veined and pulsing cock for. He unrolls his long tongue, Eddie's pouted and panting lips showing no signs of fear for anything he did to him now. Venom's grip on Eddie's hips tighten, he flicks his nipples and runs his tongue up his throat, leaving a wet trail behind. It was something familiar to Eddie, a blast of cold from the air hitting his skin as it started to dry. Venom then toys with his lips. Lapping against them until he opens his mouth. A wanton moan released, their tongues then shortly rubbing against the other before Venom tests Eddie and probes away at his mouth. Eddie lets his eyes shut, the groans come as he's so close he whines, balls of his feet digging into the mattress, his hand trying to grasp at sheets but being met with resistance from the symbiotes affectionate hold. Venom watches his host's lips suck away at its tongue, sending a thrill through both of them, something unknown to the alien before this point. A breathy moan is released from the large violent looking mouth that was being anything but. A rumble passes through them both, a warning, Venom thinks. He feels Eddie's muscles start to convulse, pulling away and concentrating on his cock again, as it seemed this area of his body was about to undergo a transformation.

"Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum." Eddie gasps and whimpers, lip snarled and head pushed back into the bed, helpless to what was happening and he certainly wasn't minding in the least.

"Yes. Come." Venom says, putting a word to the action now. He feels Eddie's muscle convulse and suddenly he feels it push and force out a pearlescent liquid that started forcefully and died down to a slow pump as he continued his encapsulation around Eddie's throbbing cock. He seized on the outside and in, feeling everything his body did that Eddie couldn't, the veins pumping, the ducts drawing, glands releasing, causing this euphoric feeling that made the both of them in their echo chamber of pleasure mewl and moan.

"St-Stop." Eddie whines, as Venom continued with his same pace. "Sen-senstive." Eddie winces and raises on his elbows, eyes pleading.

Venom stops moving, a slow retraction of the extensions of himself back into his body. Some seeping into Edie's skin, some joining Venom on the extended head that was now moving closer to Eddie's face.

"After you cum it's sensitive to touch for a while. Everything's so...." he lets out a noisy sigh, trying to gather himself after what was the most strange and intense orgasm of his life. "heightened." he managed to sigh out in a high pitched exhale. "Gotta let it rest." he gruffs out, laying open and exposed on the bed, catching his breath.

"It was good Eddie." Venom hums, tongue licking around the sides of its own face. "Why did we not do that sooner?"

"I'm wondering the same thing right about now." Eddie chuckles.

"Why do we not do this all the time? Do all humans feel this way? Why aren't they doing this all the time?"

Eddie laughs and rests his forearm against his face. "That's... those are good questions." he grins, catching his breath. "But do you mind if I answer them in the morning? I'm kinda..."

"We become tried afterward." he says, feeling a yawn build in Eddie' chest before it erupts.

"Mmm Hmm" he nods, wiping his watering eyes.

"We can sleep if we get answers tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, man, yeah. Promise." he says, rolling to his side with a groan after a stretch.

Venom takes the covers and pulls them back over Eddie who thanks him with a lazy smile and a scratch under the chin, the symbiotes curiosity and perseverance reminding him of a puppy.

"Not a dog." he says despite leaning into the touch. "Sleep now. Questions when you wake." he states again. "Answers in the morning."

"Yeah, tomorrow." Eddie mumbles, pulling the pillow to his face. He's out before Venom even tucks him in. A gesture of affection he'd seen in a movie. He goes back to the television, deciding to watch more, as it was clear he still had a lot to learn.

@hardygal69 @raceylacy @emerald-bijou @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21

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joshbaxterbct · 5 years ago

Text

Formative analysis

Emerging Practices

From reading the two given articles, I came to find that while they are quite different in nature, there are many parallels that can be drawn between the key ideas and themes within them. The first article I read was More Work for Mother (Cowan, R. S. 1983), where housework and its tools are used to describe the profound effect industrialisation of technology has had on society.

While we often think of our homes as a place of refuge away far from anything we would described to be industrialised. Our reliance on technology and the various tools we used day to day makes us very much entangled in the term Industrialisation. As the text describes:

“kitchens are as much a locus for industrialised work as factories and coal mines are, and washing machines and microwave ovens are as much a product of industrialisation as are automobiles and pocket calculators.”

The example is used that very few of us would be able to make our own bread from scratch, with success probably not. We have become reliant on a series of technological systems/tools to successfully complete the common task. With this said these tools limit our work. Tools are generally only good for one thing, we may be able to use them in different ways than ultimately intended however their purpose will ultimately always remain the same. In turn they also constrain the ways in which people behave. The writer uses a really good example of getting new cabinets in their family home and the effect this had on the family task of setting the table. The new Cabinets that house their plates was up much higher than their old cabinets. Their kids used to be able to set the table by themselves as they were able to freely reach the cabinet. However not they are much higher and the kids can no longer reach the cabinets themselves the assistance of an adult is required hence changing the entire dynamic of that task. Unless of course the addition of a new tool is used a stool. This is an interesting example of the profound effect a technological system can have on our work process and or the way we behave.

I find this particularly interesting when we then compare this example to the ones given in the second article Do artefacts have politics? (Winner, L. 1986). This text as the name suggest being about how technological artefacts carry political values along with them some intended while some unintended also in the context of industrialisation.

The example is used of a tomato harvesting machine that was developed by the University of California. A machine was developed that was able to harvest tomatoes on a single pass through a row. This of course replaced the initial system of hand picking. However while the machine was developed with the best intentions this had widespread social implications for California's rural sector, cutting jobs for thousands of workers. This is a prime example of the effect industrialisation can have on our work process. Just like the task of setting the table tools can have a profound effect on us that can differ from the tools intended purpose.

What these two articles highlight is that the social and political and historical values of a technology can not be ignored when thinking about and producing new technologies. All implications must be taken into consideration.

A given example of this was Facebook and the role it played in Brexit through targeted ad campaigns that manipulated users political views and ideologies. Facebook has always claimed that it uses a range of technologies to enhance users ad experiences. However this was an instance whereby the tool was used in a way that was unintended to create political bias. Of Course Facebook denies any such claims but it raises more questions than answers about the level of thought that has gone into new technologies and systems we find ourselves surrounded by today.

Facebooks role in Brexit - and the threat to democracy | Carole Cadwalladr | TED 2019

We can help identify the questions we should be asking Amara's Law: “We tend to overestimate the effect of a technology in the short run and underestimate the effect in the long run”. Take Google glass as a case study. A product that calls for a new way of seeing our relationship with our mobile computers, not hunched over a screen but meeting the world heads-up.

Why Google Glass? | Sergey Brin | TED 2013

Prior to the time of its launch there was a lot of hype generated about Google glass and it potential future applications. As one of the founders of Google Sergey Brin said this will change the way we interact with the world around us. No longer will we need to stare into featureless screens that draw us away from what is happening around us.

An interesting comment was made by Sergey when he articulated his experience of the product. He talked about how it made him realise how reliant he was on his mobile device. It had become a sort of safety net unto which he could escape from the present world. He talked about it being a significant change and an eye opener as to just how much his mobile device had been taking away from his life.

In part due to the fact that the mobile device has become a system of its own. Up until google glass and other emerging technologies such as the Apple watch. The technological system we call a phone has very much remained unchallenged. These emerging technologies challenge the conventions of what a mobile device can be and should be. Thinking back to Amara’s law is it possible that we are simply not ready for such a systematic change just yet?

The article Written by Google under a year before the Launch of Glass touches on a few interesting concepts not of glass but mobile devices in a broader sense. This said you can see the rational for creating glass aligning with much of what is talked about:

The Mobile Metamorphosis | Jess Greenwood | September 2011

A few statements that stuck with me from this article:

Phones no longer merely connect us to people; as their available features grow more complex, customisable, and personal, they connect us to ourselves.

............................................................................................

"We assume that the way things are now will be the way things are in the future, and the same is true of cell phones. As mobile technology continues to evolve, we have to keep asking how each additional functionality serves not only as utility, but has a human purpose."

- (Turkle, S. 2005)

What is said here very much is representative of Glass and it's vision. they had set out to create a product that creates more meaningful interactions for its users. They acknowledge that they role personal devices play within our lives now extends past a mere utility and has become more a part of us as humans. This in turn calls for a change in system that allows personal devices to make us more human than not.

There has been a recent movement towards creating applications and devices that promote this exact idea. In fact there is even a foundation started by Ex Google designer Tristan harris and Interface designer Aza Raskin, the Center For Humane Technology.

Center For Humane Technology

Their mission is to reverse human downgrading by inspiring a new race to the top and realigning technology with humanity*.* When we look at Google glass that the philosophy behind its design we can begin to see that it was designed with the best intentions, all the hype around it an idealised vision of what personal devices should be. Going back to what Ruth Schwartz Cowan said in her article about tools and industrialisation. The mobile device is very much a tool as it is a work process that we have become accustomed too. Disrupting this system creates discomfort and unease amongst those whom it affects. Just like the example Cowan used of setting the table for a family dinner. Changing this system changes the work process that is involved. Sergey said he notably realised how reliant he had become on his mobile device also acknowledging the difficulties proposed by this change of system. Many critics claimed that Google glass was a gimmick, flop a fail. That said with a range of reasons as to why, there is obviously a clear vision behind what google way trying to change here however it is very clear that the historical properties of what we know to be a personal mobile device was against them.

It is also interesting to see how they have dealt with the shortfall of the high held expectations this product had when it was originally released. Google has now released an enterprise edition of the product that focuses more on enhancing workflow in the workplace environment. Interestingly enough this is somewhat representative of the Amara's law, where the product was originally released with expectations it could not meet creating a shortfall, and only it now beginning to find it way in where it fits as a tool or technological system.

Google Glass Enterprise Edition

Google glass it raises a few points for us to consider and question when looking at the future of this kind of technology.

Is the way we currently use mobile/personal devices downgrading our lifestyles?

In terms of day to day personal devices are we ready for such an extreme systematic change?

Is there a need for some sort of middle ground or transitional technology to get people used such a systematic change?

Is there really a need for the system we know to be changed in its entirety?

Could we take the vision of Google Glass and apply it to current technology?

Should we rather be looking towards generating applications that promote the same values and challenge the way we use our devices, rather than change the device itself?

References:

Cowan, R. S. (1983). More work for mother: The ironies of household technology from the open hearth to the microwave(Vol. 5131). New York: Basic Books.

Winner, L. (1986). Do Artifacts have Politics? From The Whale and the Reactor.

Cadwalladr, C. (April 2019). Facebooks role in Brexit - and the threat to democracy. Retrieved from: https://www.ted.com/talks/carole_cadwalladr_facebook_s_role_in_brexit_and_the_threat_to_democracy?language=en

Wikipedia Image Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hype_cycle

Brinn, S. (Febuary2013). Why Google Glass?. Retrieved from: https://www.ted.com/talks/sergey_brin_why_google_glass?language=en

Greenwood, J. (September 2011). The Mobile Metamorphosis [blog post]. retrieved from: https://www.thinkwithgoogle.com/marketing-resources/the-mobile-metamorphosis/

Turkle, S. (2005). The second self: Computers and the human spirit. Mit Press.

Center for humane technology (n.d) Retrieved 19 July. Retrieved from: https://humanetech.com/

Glass. (n.d) Retrieved 19 July. Retrieved from: https://www.google.com/glass/start/

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dear--charlie · 6 years ago

Text

Dear Charlie,

I saw you posted my letter. Thank you for it. Somehow having people read what I go through at times can really help. I know it sounds silly. Last time I wrote to you, I was caught up in myself. I still am. You’ll se. But still, I’d like to ask you how you are. I know you don’t answer to the letters you put on here, but I just think that you, too, need to be heard and that you matter a lot, considering the things you do for all of us. So, yea… I hope you are alright. Thank you for everything. So…About her and me. We met in the end. I booked an overpriced flight 2 weeks before the meeting because I had to see her. I didn’t care what anybody said. I didn’t care my mom doesn’t want me to meet “strangers”. She isn’t a stranger. I have seen her over face time. I have heard her voice. I know her better than myself. And she knows more about me than anybody. But I can’t tell my mom or dad. They don’t know about her. How the hell am I supposed to tell them…? You know, where I live, people aren’t exactly homophobic. It’s accepted. But not well seen. My dad is intolerant. My mom plays it cool. But I see the way they both look at gay couples, frowning. I don’t know how to come out of the closet. Where I usually live, nobody knows. Maybe a „friend“, but she doesn’t care much about me anymore. I thought I mattered to her. We shared our writings, our fears and she felt like a best friend. In the end it turnt out that she was only using me and that she doesn’t care. I was dropped like a hot potato, just like always. I always idealise people. And then they disappoint me. It is that way right now. But I’ll come back on this later. I am not out in the country I live in. But I am out here in Canada. I am currently doing a mobility semester. And people here are so much more open. It’s in the french part and I met a lot of international students. In my flat, I live with 2 people from the french part in Switzerland and by coincidence I met a french girl, and others. We are a group of 10 now. They are all french native speakers. I am not. English isn’t my native language either. But that doesn’t really matter now. I am drifting away. Gosh..Charlie, I have so many things to tell and my head is a huge mess. I need to order things. Sorry for this mess. So..one of the girls started talking about her girlfriend and then asked „es-tu en couple?“ which means as much as „are you in a relationship?“. Usually people ask me if I have a boyfriend and I say no. Here I said yes. Because I am. And there is no point in hiding it. So she was the first person I told about my girlfriend and it freed me. Soon my flatmates asked the same question and then some people from uni did too. I told the truth. For the first time ever. And the more I say it, the better I feel about it. It was hard for me to accept myself. When everything around you somehow makes you feel as though it is bad to like the same sex, you don’t want to believe yourself. I had dates before. 2. With guys. I hated it. I’d never kissed anyone. So yea..A and I met in the end. I went to visit. And it was the best week ever. I loved it. I love her. She was my first kiss. And yes, maybe I take things extra slow. I am really insecure and she has fears I am not allowed to talk about because that is her business and not mine. But…she is just amazing. And I trust her. She trusts me. And her fears are fading away. It’s good. Really good. It hasn’t always been. I don’t like to call our relationship toxic, but sometimes that’s exactly what it is. She hurts me a lot when she is hurting. Shutting me out, being cold, distant, and sometimes even rude. Out of the blue she will give monosyllabic answers and not talk to me anymore. So…she broke up with me over nothing. She said she wasn’t healthy for me and that she was toxic. I said she wasn’t. But truly…she was. But I couldn’t live without her. Yes…call me dramatic, call me cheesy and call me an actress in a soap opera. I know, okay? I’m horrible. I didn’t want to accept she went away. I didn’t sleep that night. And the day after I begged her to come back. She said she never stopped loving me and that she regretted breaking up, that she had done it for my best. I said I could forget about it. Really…it took me very long to forgive her. She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t have to know everything. Things are hard enough for her and what matters is that we are okay now. I put everything she gave me when we met into a box in my closet and didn’t take anything with me to Canada. Sometimes I really hate myself for it. She got really distant after we got back together. Distant, cold hearted and rude. I asked what the matter was, she wouldn’t tell me. I was in Canada for the first week and she didn’t talk to me, refused to tell me what was wrong. I was destroyed. And mentally prepared to drop it and just take the first guy here and end up with him in bed. I wanted to forget her. But then she apologised. Out of the blue. Saying I’d hurt her the night we broke up. I was disappointed. I had asked her before if we were fine and if I’d hurt her. She said no. She lied. I hate lies. I don’t know what I said to hurt her, all I know she hurt me too and I didn’t behave like a jackass. But okay…let’s not get into this…it upsets me too much. I read a comment under my first letter asking if her and me are still together. Yes we are. It’s been nearly 7 months now. And we have had many lows. I was on the verge of telling her we are over when she started to push me away again. I talked to a friend on here about it and he told me for my own good I should leave her. But then again he isn’t objective at all. We’ve been talking for 4 years now and 2 years ago he said he’d fallen for me. I liked him. Maybe even in that way. But I didn’t want distance. With him it’s not even the same continent. It was a big no. So I lied about my feelings and shut him out completely. We started talking again 1 year ago and we’ve grown a lot closer. He still has feelings for me. I know it. He somehow told me… even though he has a girlfriend now. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Please don’t judge me Charlie. Please don’t tell me tumblr isn’t really life and love on here isn’t real love. I though so at first. I though long distance relationships were bullshit and I thought love was being close and speaking the same language. But it’s the heart that matters, and the language of the heart not of the mouth. It’s the feeling and not the ratio. Please don’t judge me and please don’t tell me it’s not real. It is very much real. I saw her. I kissed her. And everything was just right. It was as if a piece I didn’t know I was missing was finally given back to me. Right now, it is going very good with her. I want to see her again, as soon as I am back where I live. I told my mom I wanted to go there in February. My mom doesn’t want me to. She saw I was heartbroken after the breakup and asked why. I said a friend had left me. I said A left me. I tried to be close to the truth. My mom is really resentful. She doesn’t want to see me hurt again. She doesn’t want A’s mom to be a jackass to me again and I do understand but she doesn’t. How could she if she doesn’t know…. I wish I could tell her. But she wouldn’t understand. 1. A is girl. 2. I met her over internet and we live in different countries. How the hell do I explain that…? I don’t want to go back to being enclosed. I want to have the life I have here where I usually live. It’s across the ocean an the mentality is so different. I’m scared of coming out at home. I don’t know if I will manage to do so. Anyway. So many more things to tell you. I’m sorry for talking for so long. Words spill out. I’ve got class tomorrow and it’s past midnight, but somehow I had to write to you. So…I met this group of friends here. And we go on a lot of travels together, explore the country for the time we are here. It’s great. But I don’t feel as if I truly fit in. They go out a lot, they drink a lot. And I do too. But for different reasons. I have many off days where I don’t manage to get out of bed or to eat or study. I try to function but I can’t. Depression can hit hard. She makes it better. I spend a lot of time talking to her. I know it’s bad. It makes me retreat from society and the friends I found here. One night, I told C, my flatmate, about A and how she was toxic. That was when I was close to breaking up. I needed help. C told me I should break up. I knew. But I wanted to give A a last chance. And that’s exactly what I told her. I said that she was hurting me and that if this happened one more time, I’d be gone for good. After that A changed. She is trying really hard to be okay, and to be honest when she isn’t instead of pushing me away. About C…I really like her. I idealise her, a lot. She is an extrovert and really popular. She’s great, to be honest. Real and with deep thoughts. I like her. And I talked to her. But I regretted it afterwards. We haven’t known each other for long enough. Now I don’t really talk to her. I don’t really talk anymore. In general. On our road trips I sit in the back of the car and don’t talk. I stay in the background. Listen, observe, try to get to know the people and the way they interact. Sometimes I see more than there is. Sometimes I see deepness where there isn’t and I think that a smile hides pain but not everybody has pain to hide. I need to learn that. I generally feel like a bad person. And I don’t want to be. I feel selfish and as if I talk to much about me and don’t listen enough. I’m bad at smalltalk and I never know what to say. Integrating in my class is hard because I am with 4 different years (wasn’t possible differently with the schedules and the equivalents in my uni. anyway.) I feel alone a lot. Plus, I somehow don’t feel comfortable in french anymore. I don’t really dare talking. Words won’t come to me. I used to be better at french than english. Since I met A, that changed. I’m really insecure. And I feel like I am constantly seeking attention. Sometimes I think I am down only to have people notice. I don’t know anymore. On 28th of September, it was my birthday. I cried myself to sleep the day before because I wouldn’t be home for it and my mom wouldn’t hug me. Then, I woke up to the knocking of all my friends and C and Am (my other flatmate) had even baked a cake and they sang and it was amazing. I loved it. We then drove to Toronto. It was great. Monday it was C’s birthday. We baked her a cake. We drove back to here. 7 hours of car. And during the ride, C and Ca (a friend) talked, and Am and J (a girl from the group who doesn’t like me, I think) talked a lot and I didn’t hear anything because the music was loud. I felt left out. I’m scared of being left out. I am so scared of everything. C and Am have the same classes and they grow closer. I can only watch from afar. I often feel like I am not real. Like I am not in the situation. Condemned to watching and never able to interact. Maybe I am. Yes.. I definitely am…I’m pouring my heart out to you. It’s sad. But it helps. Thank you again. My stomach hurts a lot these days. Uni is tough. I am constantly stressed but also procrastinating because I don’t have the energy to do anything and I don’t know where to start so I don’t start. Which is bad considering I am a real perfectionist. We talked about drinking the other night. And S said I could drink a lot without being drunk quickly. That is NOT true. I am drunk after 2 beers and 2 shots of rum. But I know how to hide it. I hate to lose control. And even my drunk me hates it. She knows how to hide. I haven’t done anything else than hiding myself in my life. It’s not hard to hide being drunk. I can control it. Open eyes a little more, articulate more, concentrate on walking straight, preferring to sit. And I told S. She said sometimes, losing control is good. I know she is right. But I don’t know how to let go. I don’t know how to allow myself to be me and to not take responsibility. I am 20. All my friends here are older. Around 22 or 23. And I often feel like a kid. Even if I know that actually I am taking more responsibilities than them, I feel small. I’ve always been the youngest. I’m used to it. And I think that’s why I want control. Talking about control…I think I am losing it. Food is a huge issue. I know I am not fat. I feel like it though. I used to be thinner. And when I am feeling bad, I don’t eat because at least that, I can control. But lately I am binging too much. I eat far too much and by far not healthy enough. I don’t want to slip into an eating disorder. But truth is, I’ve been in one for long. Either not eating at all or eating everything in sight. And gosh..I hate me for it. I hate me for a lot of things. For example being like this. I don’t know how to describe this. I’m sorry if you think badly about me. Maybe I am really just a bad person. All I know is that I am complicated and trying to be a good person and be happy and change, but I don’t know how or where to start. It’s always the same. I never know where to start. Life overwhelms me a lot. And often. And when I think about the fact that in 2 years I will have a bachelor’s degree and be a formed teacher who can have a class, it makes me want to throw up. I am not ready. Everything is just too much and depression is rolling over me so often. Barcelona still gets to me. I had been there for 2 hours when the attack took place. My dad and mom where there too. I was so scared. i cried. That was a year ago. We didn’t know where to go. couldn’t find the hotel. Run from one place to another. Hiding. No food. Scared. My dad always ran in the wrong direction. he wanted to help. But how? He didn’t even have his gun. He was a tourist not an officer in Spain. But he didn’t want to listen. I needed him and he wanted to play the hero. It think that was the worst. Having to drag my dad with me. Running for my life but also for his, slowing us down both. So in addition to the fear of dying was the fear of my dad being hurt and dragging him into the right direction with me. And the kids crying and chairs dropping, people running, sunglasses and phones on the floor, bags and shoes and…then all the mass panic and running again and hiding and into the next shop… I still have nightmares. I still can’t breathe in big cities. I still flinch when a chair falls down or there is noise. Then there is H. She left 2 months ago. She said she’d never. I was in Montreal a week ago. She is from there. And I had a panic attack over seeing her. To a point where I wrote her a message begging her not to cross my way. Apparently that’s not something you say to somebody. I didn’t know it was a rude thing to say. English isn’t my native language. I already said that. Sorry. And H said she couldn’t be my friend because I reminded her of the past and that was too hard and that I please shouldn’t talk to her. Then, in Montreal, a litter bin fell down and there were so many people and I was close to tears. Everything came together. Fear of seeing H, fear of an attack, fear of people and getting lost. C asked why I was scared. She doesn’t understand. I don’t think she is good at reading people. Maybe she doesn’t want to see. I don’t know. I said there are just too many people. It was a half light truth. ugh..the night was horrible. The text I sent H was a drunk text and I regretted it badly the day after. I don’t know why things always get to me that much. I don’t get why people always leave me. There has to be something wrong with me. And yet I always hope that “this” person will be different. but then again, I am starting to be more careful. Not letting people in as easily and building up brick walls. It’s bad. I know. Sometimes I do let them in. But then I regret it. Sorry for being messy. I know, these last lines especially, don’t make sense. But they came to me. It’s 00:45 now. And now, after proofreading, it’s 01:20h… I have to get up in 6, now 5 hours….but okay. I am used to not sleeping. I take dance classes here. They make me really happy. I love it. When I dance, all the things around me disappear. I smile and feel the beat and nothing more. I jump home instead of walking. Yea okay, that’s exaggerated, but you get the idea I think. The teacher told me I was really good today. I loved hearing that. I dance since I’m 4. But I stopped at 16: anxiety and school stress. I started Salsa last year, met a guy, went on a date which was awful and didn’t dare going to class anymore. Here I do jive and lindy hop and even though it’s not my kind of music, I love dancing. It makes me forget the world around me. Call it cliché, but it’s the truth. I am really sorry for writing so much. I don’t do it often. This is the second time I tell you something and a lot has happened in between the letters. I don’t know where you are from, or what language you speak, but if you feel like it, listen to „la fête est finie“ by Orelsan. It’s not my kind of music, but I like it. It made me think about life a lot. Anyway. Thank you for you time to read this, thank you for doing what you do, Charlie. You’re gold. And again, I’m sorry for the mess of words and the overflow of information. I’m just really insecure and really…me. which I am not saying as a compliment. I hope I will be truly happy one day and that I will overcome this depression…but until then I’ll say until next time Charlie. Thank you. Love always, Lilly. P.S. My name isn’t Lilly, I just didn’t feel comfortable saying who I am the first time I wrote. I’m Lena. That fits me better. And it’s more honest. P.S. Maria, I hope you are fine. I’ve read some of your letters and you seem to be a really kind person with a lot of shit happening. I hope you’ll be okay. You deserve to be happy. 03.10.2018, 01:23am

#dear charlie #lilly #lena

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