#another reason i love having my old therapist back is she still has all my records

[sage-nebula]

I had my first therapy appointment in years today, and it was with my og therapist who I thought either ghosted me or died (turns out neither was true). It was so, so good to talk to her again and I'm looking forward to working on the stack of issues I have. But one goal I mentioned was I want to learn how to someday be content with the fact that there is something inherent about me that, while at first people might like me, inevitably people end up seeing me as annoying / hostile / aggressive / bad-tempered / awful / a monster even when I am calm emotionally and decide (within their rights) that they don't want to be around me anymore and the friendship ends. Like clearly there is something wrong with me, but I don't know how to fix it when it happens even when I feel that we're having a normal conversation, and it has happened enough times with enough people that clearly I'M the problem, so I'd just like to be able to accept and be content with being a monster instead of crying over it all the time.

She nodded and wrote it down but thinking on it now I do wonder if she really accepted "being okay with being a monster" as a goal. She also said "what I'm hearing is abandonment issues" which, okay, fair. I always thought it was RSD but she is the professional.

Anyway this is further down the road stuff. There's other stuff we have to work on first. (e.g. I couldn't protect my dog from abuse when I was an abused child myself and I have been carrying that guilt and punishing myself for it for over 20 years and I'm finally at a place where I think I need to learn how to stop self-flagellating for my perceived childhood failures. And if you're like "why only now" well that's because even as recently as two weeks ago I felt I deserved the guilt and pain, and even now it's like 75 / 25, but we move.)

Anyway! I am going to try really hard and work on things with her. I want to feel better, I want to heal, and most importantly, I want to stop crying all the time because crying fucking sucks. Literally one of the worst bodily functions. Why can't I just turn on my eyes like faucets, let the tears pour out, and then turn the eyes off when empty? Why do I have to deal with all the congestion and snot and swollen face and headache? Once again the human body is an inefficient mess. Smh.

anyway. therapy good. post over.

[soupandspoonies]

To honour me saying I would blog more than I have been I thought I'd talk a little bit about my experience with therapy as a chronically ill person, because there may be people who relate and I think it's good to talk about :)

To start, I have been doing therapy since I was first diagnosed with my first condition (I was about 10 years old at the time) and the therapy I was put in was CBT, as recommended by my neurologist. CBT refers to cognitive behavioural therapy and follows the mindset that if you can reframe your mindset about something it can affect you less.

Beginning this therapy I had very little understanding of my condition and I was struggling a lot with losing my ability to do a lot of the things I had once loved to do. In this aspect, having someone to talk to was very helpful and my counselor reminded me that I still had things to look forward to and all was not lost. Eventually however, this therapy started to influence the mindset that if I don't talk about my pain and suffering with my illness, that it will hurt less and I began to feel my pain was no longer valid.

I believe that this type of therapy can be very helpful given the right circumstances and it did help me in some ways - but it also stifled my ability to talk about my pain seriously and I began to feel like I was weak for letting the pain affect me.

I think talking about your chronic illness and disability is a very helpful tool when you are struggling - which is why I started my blog - but I also feel it is very frustrating trying to talk about it with people who don't understand because they have never experienced it. I have tried my best to make my friends and family understand that I will always be held back by my illnesses and disability, and how it causes me mass amounts of grief at times. I am losing the person I once was, and people generally don't understand what it is like until it happens to them.

I am still in therapy, with a new therapist whom I feel I can really trust with my issues. After being ill for so long, I began struggling with anxiety and depression, and having a therapist has certainly been helpful (along with medication). I was able to highlight with my new therapist how my previous therapy experiences affected me and I am now able to be very open when I don't like the approach she is taking with my problems. She will never understand what I am going through, but she approaches with empathy and lets me talk through my feelings without making me feel as though I need to stifle them to make her or others understand me.

I think that I will always struggle to find people who understand me, I will always have that grief for the person I lost in myself, and this pain isn't going away. I have struggled a lot entering therapy again because I never felt like I could be validated by someone who doesn't understand, but I am slowly coming to realise that even through the frustration of being misunderstood - it is a really useful tool.

I hope any others who are struggling with entering therapy for one reason or another will take what I've said into consideration. There will likely be a lot of frustration because you feel misunderstood and alone, but if you find the right person it can take a big weight off your shoulders.

I hope everyone has a happy Halloween!! :D

Soup

[kix-mm]

Dusty’s letters

Previous - Next

A letter from two

Dear neighbor, it's Dusty!

How are you doing? I hope Branch was abel able to fix your house. Aparentlie Apparently, you covinsed convinced him to write to you too! He calls you his therpist therapist now, and I thought you were a jornalist journalist? You are full of surprises!

I'm doing okay, but things have changed, and I don't like it that much. I'm still scared, I get nigtmares nightmares about my brother, is that bad? It's bad dreams that show him hurting people, hurting our family... but they are all gone. That's the only reason I know when I'm dreeming dreaming. They feel so real that sometimes I hide from him.

Branch has become more and more warie wary about himself. Sometimes, I see him looking in the mirir mirror like he's scared of his own riflection reflection. He has also stared covering his eyes again. He smiles differently now too. It doesn't feel real. I want my old brother back... it's not nice seeing him so unhappy. It makes me sad.

Another thing I don't like is that he isn't allowed to come pick me up at school anymore... Because he makes people scared, especially other kids. Maybe they aren't used to seeing someone so big? I heard one of the teachers say they still think he's risponseble responsible for Mama and Papa dieng dying. It's not his fault! He saved me! Mama and Papa died because of the fire... He misses mama so much, Branch says I look a lot like her. I think he's starting to look more and more like our big brothers!

Maybe you're an investigater investigator, too? Can you help?

Lots of love, Dusty

Ps: Branch hasn't written a letter since Jacob left, it's a sensitive subgekt subject. Please be nice :)

Hello

Hi

Greetings??

Dear neighbor, fuck it good enough.

As you demanded requested, I'm now writing a letter to you. I do not know what you expect me to write nor how to write it, so forgive me if it's brief.

Dusty is recovering well, though due to my reckless behavior from the incident she still feels uneasy around me, her injuries have sparked another horrid rumor that alienates me further from the village.

I'm not welcome in the village at all in the and certainly nowhere near the schools. Ive lived my whole life surrounded by that hellhole and yet im still seen as nothing more as a monster. As a young child that really does something to you. You will never be welcome if you have an unflattering appearance or are anything less than human.

This is in no way meant to target you, you've been nothing but helpful and kind even after my terrible attitude and almost killing you. I'm still forever grateful for taking Dusty to school and doing the small amount of groceries that Dusty needs. You mean the world to her.

If it weren't for you I'd be rather lost, I do not understand why you have such a kind soul and so much patience, though your kindness might not be targeted towards me, but rather Dusty, I'm still grateful either way.

Please don't make me write another letter, I'd rather not talk about any of this, or rather, write. Which in my opinion seems worse as the words stick to a surface and can be read by anyone.

Many thanks for all your kindness.

Andy Branch.

[lonelyroommp3]

ohhh I love ask games like this,, so 1) when you're at the club, what's "your song? 2) since when have you been a taylor swift fan? and 3) what are your favorite youtube channels to have on in the background? (bonus question: how the fuck did you get into following sports)

1) excluding ones that are everybody's song in the club, like mr brightside, my top 2 are probably - power by little mix (a certain number of drinks in i WILL become convinced i can belt that super high "you SHOULD know". i cannot), perfect strangers by jonas blue (there's a reason this song plays a pivotal role in my braking point fic. iykyk)

EDIT: cannot BELIEVE i forgot to mention cotton eye joe, which while not "my song" per se has become something of a running joke for me bc in winter 2016 i made out with two different guys, in two different clubs, about three nights apart, and both of these times cotton eye joe was playing.

2) i will tell you a story that should really belong to a therapist's office but i don't go to therapy so tumblr will do. back in year 7 i had a very frenemy style relationship with my core friend group (ofc these are the friends that i stuck with in the end and still talk to today. haz if you're reading this) and was also just really struggling with my identity in terms of where i fit with cliques etc - my friend group was like, the weird girls, the goths, the emos, and i did massively identify with that, but a huge part of me just desperately wanted to be a normie popular girl too. and as a result i'd just swing back and forth between trying to maintain my friendships with the core group & trying very very hard to get in with the cool girls. of course this didn't work because, well, popular tween girls can smell undiagnosed neurodivergence like a shark smells blood. but fortunately for my future swiftiedom & unfortunately for my inability to read social cues related hangups that haunt me to this day, i could not smell when said girls were really just putting up with me and having a laugh behind my back. all this to say i got in the habit of riding the bus home sitting with one girl in particular, one day she was like "hey share my headphones and listen to this cool new song", the song was love story, the rest is history. later that school year i got my bangs cut back in and saw her and another girl not even TRYING to hide that they were pointing and laughing at me in the queue outside the design tech classrooms and that did traumatise me a bit but at the end of the day one day (august 16th) i'll be watching taylor swift looking fucking sick with bangs in wembley stadium and all she's ever gonna be is mean. or however the song goes

3) really into cow hoof trimming videos, livestreams of airport takeoffs and landings, and also any extremely long summaries of drama that does not concern me in the slightest. occasionally i'll sort of have a moment of realisation re: drama vids and wean myself off them for a while like hey it is NOT good for me to be watching inflammatory and manipulative videos that often commit half the same sins as the drama they're complaining about. and then i'll click one too many links and be right back into it

and as for sports: i have honestly always been into sports. since i was old enough to watch the olympics i would be absolutely engrossed by them for the entire time they were on, i had an obsessive tennis phase around the ages of 8-10 (where are my 00s federer girlies at), i was on my school's netball team, i even had a period of wanting to figure skate competitively but could only afford one out of that & piano lessons, which is a real sliding doors moment for me haha. the issue is 1) i'm not especially good at sports myself, netball is my strongest sport bc the multitasking is severely limited by the rules lol 😭 and 2) there was a lot of snobbery in my household growing up about certain sports, especially football. when i was maybe 10 or 11 a children's choir i was in got to sing before kick off for one of my local team's games and my dad wouldn't let me stay to actually watch the match bc he had an actual moral vendetta against footy. i would voraciously read the match reports in the local paper though

anyway, i also got introduced to f1 very young because my infant school "boyfriend" (read: best friend who was a boy) was OBSESSED with f1 and specifically michael schumacher. he'd talk about schumi every chance he got and i was like hey this f1 thing sounds cool but i never actually got to watch a race. don't remember why, probably just was not allowed as was the case with many things. but during covid i saw people blogging about it on here and thought hey, this looks fun, chanced it on a nowtv day pass to watch sakhir 2020 (the fact that george russell was the first driver i actively supported. scream!) and, most fatally of all, thought to myself "hey i wonder if anyone is writing hurt/comfort fic about that bottle job". anyway right now i'm watching wimbledon did anyone else clock that insane musetti moment a few games ago

[cecekeating]

My 610 Jordayla Recap

A fantastic episode all around. Definitely much better than the last episode and like previous episodes, the writing for Jordayla has stayed consistent. This time around the theme was PROGRESS.

I absolutely loved seeing how much progress Layla made this episode. The first scene with Jordan at the lounge was a great recap of how much work and effort she has put into her recovery. Jordan yapping about what her therapist said to her was absolutely adorable and shows how in tune Jordayla are with each other this period. She tells him all about what goes on in therapy. It sort of reminded me of episode 603 where Layla reads out Jordan’s stats by heart. The complete devotion and attentiveness Jordayla have for each other is probably one of my favourite things about them. 

Jordan is still consistent in being honest and giving Layla what she needs at this time. He is pointing her focus to continuing with her therapy homework. Old habits die hard. Layla is so used to distracting herself when she hits a snag or is struggling. She has done so her whole life, it is not going to disappear in one day. The good news is that she has Jordan.  Jordan is a man that does not allow issues linger. He attacks situations head long and just like in episode 609, he is encouraging Layla to attack the pressing issue: her therapy homework and her recovery. 

The moment she agrees to Jordan looking after the brunch service on her behalf, I knew Layla had made a HUGE progress. It has been established in the writing that Layla loves to be in situations where she is in control. This was especially clear in season 4 where she threw herself into work to avoid confronting the situation that was out of her control, the trauma of the aftermath with Carrie. Being in control has always been more of a defense/coping mechanism for Layla and for her to agree to relinquish that control showed how much progress she has made.

We sort of see her need to be control popping back up again when she calls Jordan to check in. Loved how realistic and relatable this moment was. I am sure people who naturally like being in control can relate to the uneasiness that comes with letting go of that control even for a slight moment. I know I can. So I thought it was great that the writing kept reminding us that old habits die hard through Layla. Even though she allowed Jordan to help out, it was still realistic to see her struggle a bit with relinquishing the control.

By the time she rushes to the lounge, it was all good. She didn’t need to worry because Jordan and Jaymee (mostly Jaymee though) had things handled. 

We see her back at the lounge the next day. She is working because she sort of had a block. She can’t think of successes. She could think of all her struggles but for some reason, she could not think of the success in her life. Again, another super relatable moment. It is so easy to be in one’s head and see all the things that did not work out in life without realising the small victories around us. I appreciate the writing for bringing this up in such an organic way to remind me and other people that have battled mental health issues to see the small wins in our lives. 

So when Layla mentions she could not think of any success, Jordan steps in to remind her of the success of launching the brunch service. He helps her see the small victories in her life and what she has accomplished with her brunch service. He was not going to let her downplay how good she was as a business woman or let insecurities set in.  I am going to pause here and talk about Jordan. 

The writing for Jordan this season has been phenomenal and one theme I have seen is how the writing has subtly been establishing Jordan’s leadership traits. We saw a bit of it in episode 605 on the football side when he told Spencer off for not being a team player at the game they lost. However, there is no storyline on the show that has highlighted how great of a leader Jordan is than this mental health storyline with Layla. From the moment he found out about the situation with her medication, the writing has taken us on a journey, showing Jordan leading Layla as they navigate her mental health struggles. Jordayla is a team and no matter how we try to see it, Jordan is Layla’s leader as her fiance and eventually, her husband. 

Now Jordan is not perfect, we have seen him make mistakes with his approach (episode 607) but he has also shown resilience, empathy, selflessness and devotion to the woman he loves as she works through yet another difficult period in her life. I also think his approach to leadership is what allows Layla to take a step back and allow him lead and guide her especially as she is very independent and defensive about her boundaries. Jordan sets the tone for the reletionship and gives Layla the grace and space to follow the tone he has set in her own time. 

This has been the case since he confessed his feelings for Layla in season 4. Jordan began the role as the leader of team Jordayla when he told her he wanted to be more than friends. He set the tone and even though it was not the outcome he hoped for, he remained resilient until he got to cross the platonic line with a kiss. He made his feelings known but didn’t push Layla. He allowed her to come around in her own time - this has been their dynamic ever since. This season really highlighted it and I am so proud of Jordan. This is coming from someone that never cared for the character initially. I had to go back and rewatch the show and began paying attention to the writing for Jordan after he was paired up with Layla. And when you look at his arc, it makes perfect sense that he is the man for Layla.

An aside: I don’t know if this is intentional or just a happy coincidence with the writing but I have also gotten strong coaching vibes from the writing for Jordan. Starting with episode 609, if you pay attention, you can see him sort of “coach” Layla through her recovery. He gives words of encouragement, gently points her towards what she needs to focus on, hypes her and keeps her accountable throughout this journey. If the writing actually makes him Coach Baker, I will not be surprised one bit. I am just throwing this out there. 

While Jordan is a terrific coach and leader, he is unfortunately a terrible bartender, and this leads to him losing his short-lived gig at Layla’s as the bartender. I loved the quick cut from Jaymee mentioning that Layla has one more issue to handle to Jordan realizing that he has been fired from his bartending gig. It made me laugh so hard. This is the final Jordayla scene and a fantastic scene to tie the episode up. One thing I loved, apart from Jordan being the top of Layla’s successes, is how the writing is tackling Layla’s healing when it comes to her fear of becoming like her mother. Part of healing is confronting the tough parts of life and facing the situation for what it is. I loved that in this moment she realizes and accepts that her mother is not perfect, and her mom did not handle some issues as well as they should have been handled. Knowing this and telling herself this truth is yet another progress for Layla who tends to push uncomfortable realities down until the situation gets bad. She is also honest as to why she opened the lounge and she now wants to focus on what she truly loves: producing music. 

Seeing her process all of this progress with Jordan was such a joy. At the beginning of the episode she was scared of losing Jordan but by the end of the episode he was her top success. She shifted from seeing Jordan through the lens of her trauma to seeing him as an absolute blessing. When Jordan mentions that her list was a big win, she reminds him “for both of us”. Just like Jordan, Layla sees them as a team. She has made to the other side. 

Layla Keating, you are almost there, and you are gonna be alright. I am rooting hard for you <3

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review Double Feature: Twister (1996) and Twisters (2024)

Making this another double feature. This weekend, I went back and rewatched the original Twister, an old nostalgic favorite of mine, just in time for the release of its years-later nostalgic sequel Twisters. Does the original hold up, and does the sequel live up to it?

Twister (1996)

Rated PG-13 for intense depiction of very bad weather

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2024/07/review-twister-1996.html>

Score: 4 out of 5

One of the films that, together with Independence Day a couple of months later, helped revive the disaster movie genre after it had seemingly died with disco at the end of the '70s, Twister is as wild a movie as the namesake weather phenomena it's named for and which serve as the centerpieces of its action. It's a movie that, while not science fiction, has the thumbprints of Michael Crichton, the sci-fi writer who co-wrote it with his wife Anne-Marie Martin and produced it, all over it in its depiction of scientists as heroic working men and women in a way that I, somebody who's had his fair share of experience with what scientific and medical work are actually like, readily appreciated. (Even if Crichton, over the course of his career, had a fairly mixed track record when it came to how his novels and screenplays presented scientific subjects, but that's another matter entirely.) It may have had problems when it came to telling a coherent story, especially when it came to Cary Elwes' character, but it was easy enough to place those problems in the back of my mind when the movie was busy thrilling me with intense, well-shot action and an interesting cast of characters that together dropped me right into the thick of it with them. There's a reason why, even long after the second wave of disaster movies in the Y2K era burned out, people of my generation still fondly remember Twister as a gem of that time.

The film revolves around a group of stormchasers in Oklahoma, led by Jo Harding, a scientist who entered meteorology after watching her father die during a tornado when she was a little girl. They do exactly what their name sounds like, chasing tornadoes in order to track and research them for scientific purposes, specifically with the intention of designing more effective early warning systems that might give people more of a chance to survive when these wicked storms touch down. Our viewpoint characters are Jo's estranged husband Bill Harding, a former stormchaser turned TV weatherman who's come back in order to get her signature on their divorce papers and formally end their marriage, and his new fiancé Melissa Reeves, a therapist from the city who's completely out of her depth in the wild world of stormchasers.

Right away, I fell in love with most of this cast, filled with a who's who of talented actors like Helen Hunt, Bill Paxton, Jami Gertz, and Philip Seymour Hoffman giving it their all. It's a highly glamorized depiction of meteorology that makes it look like a career that combines the advanced scientific work of crunching data with the gritty, hands-on work of actually collecting that data, depicting Jo and her team of scientists as operating highly advanced equipment, at least some of which (most notably the "Dorothy" units they're trying to send into the storms to measure them up close) they designed themselves, out of the backs of trucks, vans, and station wagons covered in dirt and mud. It makes for a very funny contrast with Melissa, the film's comic relief character and audience stand-in who's trying to take calls from her patients even as she's being dragged head-first into the path of a tornado. They may not have been the deepest characters, with Jo's history with tornadoes and her, Bill, and Melissa's rom-com love triangle being just about the only development they get, but I loved them anyway. If I had to pick favorites, they'd probably be Hoffman as Dusty Davies, the very hammy and excitable dude on Jo's team who explains a lot of weather-related concepts, and Lois Smith as Jo's aunt Meg, a little old lady who seemingly can't be put down even after a tornado trashes her house and leaves her injured. Above all else, this is a movie that knows how to make scientists look good, and I'm not surprised that there were a lot of people in the late '90s who got very interested in meteorology after this came out.

And if the cast and the writing did the work in crafting a great cast of characters for me to root for, then Jan de Bont's direction did the work in throwing them into peril and dragging me right along with them. The film takes the opposite tack of Independence Day when it comes to showing large-scale destruction on screen, focusing less on the grand spectacle of seeing cities and monuments get blown up and more on the people running for cover as the houses, farms, tractor-trailers, and drive-in theaters around them get shredded by wicked winds. It's a very ground-level perspective on a disaster flick that still makes it stand out today, when epic-scale scenes of destruction have become the norm for Hollywood blockbusters, much like how Cloverfield used a similar perspective to make a giant monster movie scary. A few shots may not hold up so well today (especially that early shot of a weather satellite that looks like a prerendered cutscene from an early '00s video game), but on the whole, its mix of practical effects work and CGI still looks amazing when it comes time to showing buildings getting torn apart and cars getting tossed around.

Watching and, more importantly, hearing the storms on screen also made me realize how underappreciated sound design is in so many modern movies. All too often, we've seen a trend in action movies especially that I like to call "Nolanization" after one of the filmmakers who helped popularize it, an emphasis on making sound mixing more "realistic" for the sake of realism that, in effect, winds up causing it to turn into a wash where you can barely understand what the characters are saying or where the explosions and gunfire are coming from. If you've ever wondered why you have to turn on the subtitles to make out the dialogue in a lot of movies made in the last ten years, especially movies that were made for streaming, this is why. I had no such complaints here, with the sound of the twisters, often compared in real life to freight trains and jet engines, embellished for effect here but very much drilling into me exactly the mix of awe and terror that the film wanted me to experience. It's repeated throughout the film that tornadoes are not to be trifled with, and as I watched, I very much felt that in my bones. The score by Mark Mancina also injected a ton of energy into the film, especially with its guitars blending almost seamlessly with the rock and country songs on the soundtrack, livening up the film's downtime when the characters are planning or heading out but then falling back during the action scenes and letting the roaring winds take center stage.

The plot of the movie is pretty paper-thin, more or less following a couple of very exciting days in the lives of a team of stormchasers. I liked these characters more because they were played by great actors and had a lot of very cool, funny, and entertaining chemistry and dialogue together, not because they really had any depth. Had the film just been about them, I probably wouldn't have minded. The problem came with Cary Elwes' character Jonah Miller, a guy leading a rival team of stormchasers who we're told are the bad guys because they have corporate backing and are only in it for the money, not the science. When it came to fleshing out its human villain, the film's thin writing and plotting hurt it, not least of all because, despite Elwes doing everything he can to make Jonah into a despicable jackass, the writing never really gives me a sense that he's a bad guy as opposed to just a foil to Jo and Bill. There are ways this movie could've gone about to make me hate Jonah as a proper villain, such as having him not just rip off the design of Jo's Dorothy units but actively sabotage her career for his own gain, having him be the reason Bill left stormchasing and wound up estranged from Jo, or fleshing out the other members of his own team (especially Jake Busey as his sidekick) and having him put them in harm's way because he's a dumbass and a glory hound. The film leans in those directions, but it never really fleshes them out, instead just having Jonah recur throughout the film as a guy who annoys the protagonists only to vanish again. It really needed more Cary Elwes, is what I'm saying.

The Bottom Line

Twister isn't exactly known as a movie with a great story, but there's a reason why a key part of its enduring legacy was an attraction at Universal Studios Orlando that lasted until 2015. This is a two-hour thrill ride that still holds up watching it again nearly thirty years later, and one I'd firmly recommend to anyone who wants to watch a pure, straightforward disaster movie.

----------

And now, for the sequel...

Twisters (2024)

Rated PG-13 for intense action and peril, some language and injury images

Score: 4 out of 5

While Twisters has been billed as a sequel to Twister, what it really feels like is more of a remake in all but name, which is what they were by all accounts originally planning to make. It features no returning characters and only a few minor continuity nods to remind you that the two films are set in the same universe, otherwise following a brand new cast that loosely fits into the archetypes of the first movie but does its own thing with them. More than that, however, it's a movie that recognizes how and why the original still works as well as it does. Like its predecessor, it's a more up-close-and-personal take on the disaster movie that demonstrates how to make this genre work in 2024, in a world where scenes of epic, spectacle-filled destruction enabled with the latest and greatest in special effects have become routine: focus on the people, be they those caught in harm's way or the ones running into it for either science or glory. It's a movie whose real heart and soul underneath the awe-inspiring action set pieces is its cast of characters, played by a host of rising stars who I can see riding this movie to much greater heights of fame and fortune, enough to make up for the fact that it doesn't quite fix the biggest problem I had with the original. There really isn't much to say here other than that it's about as good as the original and the kind of film that's made to be seen on a big screen, one that I'd firmly recommend.

Just like last time, we're back in Oklahoma following two rival teams of stormchasers. Our protagonist Kate Carter, who had been chasing storms when she was a college student, left that way of life behind five years ago and took a job with NOAA in New York City (where a little EF1 tornado that hit Brooklyn recently was considered big news) after a bad judgment call she made got most of her team killed. Her friend Javier "Javi" Rivera, the one other surviving member of her team, convinces her to come back to Oklahoma and work with his new team Storm-Par, a corporate outfit that's employing advanced radar technology that Javi worked with in his time in the military to track storms more accurately than before. While they're down there, Kate and Javi cross paths with Tyler Owens, a stormchaser and YouTuber who's become a minor celebrity as the "Tornado Wrangler" filming himself and his team performing death-defying stunts in and around tornadoes. While Tyler's initially presented as a fame-seeking gloryhound with more followers than sense, Kate eventually warms up to him as they cross paths and she realizes he's not the dumbass he comes off as at first glance, while she and Javi start to question Storm-Par's mission as they do some more digging on Marshall Riggs, the local real estate tycoon who's funding them.

Just as the first movie had a who's who of '90s stars at the top of their game, so too is this one filled with a bunch of modern-day rising stars who, if their performances here are any indication, are probably going places after this. Daisy Edgar-Jones does her best Helen Hunt impression as Kate and does it well, making for a likable heroine with her own tornado-related tragedy in her past for her to overcome, while Anthony Ramos' Javi made for a nice twist on Jonah from the first movie, a version of him who seems to realize what a jackass he's becoming and the kind of person he's working for but also knows that he needs Riggs' money to keep doing his work at the level he's doing it at. The real breakout star here, however, is undoubtedly going to be Glen Powell as Tyler Owens. A guy with a name like a country singer and a truck and wardrobe to match, Tyler is something like a cowboy MrBeast, a YouTuber who makes no bones about the fact that fame and fortune are perks of the job but also, as we see later in the film, seeks to use his platform to do good for the people whose lives are destroyed by the tornadoes he chases. He's initially presented in a fashion similar to Jonah from the first film, quite ironically given how the aesthetics of his team more resemble those of that film's scrappy protagonists, but the more we learn about him, the more Powell gets to lay on his rugged-yet-funny charm and get me to root for him. This is the kind of role that they would've cast Chris Pratt in ten years ago, and Powell brings a very similar energy to this part. Movie nerds have been waiting for Powell to get his big break after years of well-received roles in smaller movies and TV shows, and if this is any indication, he's almost certainly a star in the making.

The basic meat and potatoes of this movie isn't that different from the first. What made that movie work is still in play here, this being a film where, while the scenes of tornadoes ripping apart a highway, wind turbines, a rodeo ground, a motel, an oil refinery, and a small town Main Street are exciting, well-shot, and brought to life with outstanding special effects, they aren't the most intense scenes in it. I've seen other reviews, both positive and negative, call this a movie shot in close-up, with the focus placed less on the action and more on the characters running for their lives and hanging on for dear life as tornadoes roar around them. I've always felt that this is the way to do a disaster movie right nowadays, in a time when most viewers will look at even the biggest action spectacle and quote one of the musicians featured on this movie country-heavy soundtrack ("that don't impress me much!), and director Lee Isaac Chung proved my point by making the action feel about as intimate as you can get when there are tornadoes roaring right behind the main characters. The result was that, even when the camera wasn't focused squarely on the mayhem, it felt more impactful than a lot of comparable effects-driven blockbusters.

Unfortunately, it also has a very similar problem to the first movie: the script, and most notably the villains. Marshall Riggs is given a lot of attention as a background villain who's running Storm-Par as part of his scheme to buy up ruined homes in tornado country and then flip them for profit at the expense of the often desperate people who live in them, a scheme that drives a wedge between Kate and Javi and forces the latter to think about why he's doing this job. The problem is, as despicable as this guy's actions are, he's only in the movie for one scene early on and then completely vanishes, with Javi's co-worker Scott, himself a fairly minor character, serving as the main representative of his villainy. Once again, the film tries to shoehorn in a human villain, in this case a timely representative of gentrification and corporate greed, without really doing anything with him and giving him a real presence in the film. Like with the first movie, I would've either dropped this subplot entirely or made things personal between him and the protagonists. Maybe have Kate's mom, played in one scene by Maura Tierney, know some people who've lost their homes and farms to Riggs and may very well lose hers? Or have him cut costs on Storm-Par's equipment and training, putting them in harm's way? Or have him find out about Kate and Javi's plan to disrupt tornadoes and try to sabotage it because it would mean fewer distressed properties for him to buy up and redevelop? The least this movie could've done is give him a satisfying death, preferably one involving a tornado eating a rich douchebag's mansion or him trying to get the hell out of Dodge in a rhinestone-encrusted Cadillac only to get one of his own billboards dropped on his head. As it stands, it's the same pitfall that ensnared the first movie from a writing perspective, playing out a bit differently in the details but otherwise having more or less the same effect.

The Bottom Line

Twisters is a very well-made throwback to '90s disaster movies that, while suffering from many of the same problems as the original, is also blessed with many of the same things that made it so much fun to watch, especially in a crowded IMAX theater. If you're just looking for a good-time, empty-calorie popcorn blockbuster that hits the spot, this is your ticket.

[ericac318]

Healing the Soul

Summary:  Dr. Charles is reserved in his personal life because of many failed attempts at love but sometimes the choice isn't left up to the person. How does he handle a pursuit and a relationship? Dr. Charles/OC

Chapter 1

Daniel sat back in his chair after saying goodnight to Dr. Reese, thinking back on the last few months of his life and how much had changed. Robyn was working with him and they were finally starting to have a relationship with her. He was caught up in a memory of a conversation he'd had with his therapist regarding another relationship he was involved in.

"Daniel, what's troubling you?" his therapist asked as they walked through Chicago on a cold winter night.

Daniel sighed, unsure of how to respond, "I've met someone but it's not right."

"What do you mean?" she asked, curious as to what objections he might have.

"She's younger than I am," he began, "She's the same age as Robyn which makes things very awkward from the start. She works at the hospital. I've told her that I've been married 3 times and starting something with me is a mistake but she doesn't seem to care. She's fearless. Her attraction to me makes no sense which makes me constantly listen to her speak and evaluate her for whatever issue she has that has caused her to seek romance with me," he explained as he let out another deep sigh.

His therapist smirked, "You have listed a good list of things to be wary about with this woman but you haven't said how she makes you feel. Are you as interested in pursuing a romantic relationship as she is?"

Daniel laughed lightly as he replied, "Of course. She's young, she's smart and she's beautiful. I don't want to say no to her but she's exhausting. She is never satisfied, if you get my drift. The first time she told me how she felt," he faltered for a moment, "was one of the most inappropriate encounters of my life and I have a lot more years under my belt then she does. I am too old and too fat to make her attraction to me make any sense and it's not money either because I have alimonies taking most of my earnings away," he finished, shaking his head.

"Do you want my advice?" his doctor asked to which he nodded so she went on, "If she makes you happy then there's no reason to reject her. Let things happen as they do and you might be surprised."

Daniel laughed as he realized that he had no control over the situation regardless of his own reservations because Mallory Taylor was not a woman who took no for an answer. He groaned as he stood from his chair to put on his coat and gather his things. He made his way down to the ER to see Mallory before he left. He got off the elevator and walked to her desk to see her completely fixated on her screens.

"Hey," he said to grab her attention.

Mallory looked up from her computer and her lips curled into a soft smile as she saw Daniel, "Hi, are you heading out?" she asked, noticing his bag.

Daniel nodded, reaching down and placing his hand on top of hers, "I was wondering if you would like to grab a bite to eat?"

Their relationship was still in the earlier phases because he was insistent to take things slower. They were intimate but they didn't do sleepovers because he wanted her to be able to make up her mind about him and her feelings.

Mallory sighed, "I wish I could but with the new ORs almost done, I have so many surgeries to schedule, it's ridiculous. I'm really sorry but you've had a long day so you should get something really good and get some sleep, Scheduler's orders," she finished with a smile.

Daniel smiled tenderly at her as he nodded, "I'll do my best. Don't overdo it," he warned as he mentally noted all the hours she'd been putting in.

Mallory held up a large cup of coffee and tilted her head to the side, "I'm good to go for a few more hours at least. If you want, I could meet you back at your place when I leave," she suggested, knowing the answer before she asked.

Daniel shook his head, "Mallory, you know how I feel about that. It's too serious and we're just not there yet. I'll check in with you later, ok?"

Mallory nodded, "Talk to you sometime tonight. Sorry again that I can't do dinner," she finished as she looked away from him and back to her computer screens.

Daniel sighed as he walked away knowing that she just didn't understand his perspective on their relationship.

Mallory began working once more, disappointed that Daniel was still so reserved when it came to her. She just wanted to be there for him but he always kept her at arm's length. As she worked, her mind went back to the first time she made a pass at him after their initial flirtations. He was so cautious she was forced to be as bold as possible.

Mallory walked up to Dr. Charles once she had finished scheduling the surgeries for the following day. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to get his attention. "Dr. Charles?" she began.

Daniel turned to face her, his face breaking into a smile as he saw her, "Yes, Ms. Taylor," he replied.

Mallory suppressed a grin as she got very serious, "May I please see you in Exam 1?"

Daniel raised his brow at her request, wondering what a surgery scheduler could have for him, but he nodded as he followed her. Mallory led him to the room and gestured for him to go in first. Once he was in the room, she shut the door and pulled the curtain before turning to face him, "Would you mind taking a seat?"

Daniel furrowed his brow, "There's no patient in here. What do you need from me?" he asked, his face filled with curiosity.

Mallory smiled as she pulled off her scrub top to reveal a green lacy bra, "Are you going to cooperate or make this difficult?"

Daniel was shocked by her behavior as he shook his head, "This is completely unprofessional, Ms. Taylor. What if someone needs this room?"

Mallory sighed, over his reservations, as she walked up closer to him reaching out and pulling his tie from behind his sweater vest, "No one is coming. I arranged this with Maggie and since you refuse to allow either of us to go anywhere but a public place, I wasn't left with much of an option," she explained as she pushed his lab coat off of his shoulders and down to the floor before turning her attention to his sweater vest, giving him a gentle shove onto the bed as she did so.

Daniel took a deep breath, using all of his reserves, "Mallory, I don't want you to take my words as a rejection but this is not how this needs to happen. Maybe I can adjust our arrangement slightly," he urged, trying to keep his mind on anything other than her.

Mallory took a deep breath herself as she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, working her way down to his neck, undoing the top button of his shirt along with his tie for better access, "How about instead we just rip off the band aid and take care of this? You are never going to let me any closer unless I make you," she whispered in his ear before moving her attention back to his neck.

Daniel was losing control with each passing moment, hoping for something to pull him away so that he could ensure their first time would be done right. Mallory moved her attention back toward his mouth as she stopped briefly to look him in the eyes before she placed her lips against his, causing his body to shudder.

Daniel had nothing left as he let go of the edge of the bed and put his hands on her pulling her closer. "What brought this on so suddenly?" he asked watching her as she released him to pull her scrub pants down to the floor, revealing a matching pair of underwear.

Daniel inhaled sharply as she moved back to him, pushing him down so he was laying on the bed before she climbed on top of him, her legs straddling either side of his body as she ran her hands up his chest, "I heard Goodwin ask you to dinner and she mentioned someone she thought might interest you and I wanted to make sure you'd be thinking about me," she replied as she leaned down pulling his lips to hers once more.

Mallory was pulled back from her memory as the ER flooded with teenagers. She sighed as she tried to focus on her work and not get distracted by all that was going on around her.

Mallory got lost in her work and didn't realize that the whole night had passed and it was 5 am. She took a deep breath as she looked around and saw the same patients but new faces beginning to arrive as shifts were switching. She looked at her phone and realized Daniel had never called which meant that she must have upset him more than she'd thought. She took a deep breath as she locked her drawer and left her desk to see if he was in his office already for the day.

She got off the elevator and walked toward his office seeing the door open so she walked toward it and gently knocked on the open door.

"Come in," she heard his voice reply as she made her way into his office, noting that he was in the same clothes as the previous day.

Daniel looked up and saw her, "Did you ever leave?" he asked, noticing she was also in the same outfit as the day before.

Mallory shook her head, "I got caught up in work but from the looks of it, you did too. You should go home and get some sleep," she said as she sat down in the seat across from his desk.

Daniel shook his head, "I have plenty to do today so I won't be able to get home until tonight for some sleep. Robyn, Reese and Latham all needed me for various things and they each caught me as I was leaving. Did you get all your scheduling done?" he asked, running his hand through his hair while attempting to suppress a yawn.

"Some of it," she replied, "Listen, when do you need to be downstairs?" she asked, looking at him with a tender expression.

"I don't have the energy for what you're suggesting," he replied causing Mallory to laugh.

"Daniel," she began as she stood from her seat and walked around his desk, pushing his chair out enough so that she could sit on his lap, "I know that I'm very demanding in that area but it's not all I'm interested in. I was going to say that you should take a nap on your sofa before you get to work. You do know that I want more from our relationship then casual meals and sex, right?" she asked as she laid her head down on his shoulder.

Daniel sighed, "It doesn't make sense and that's my problem. I do want what you're talking about," he began, "Well, to a degree. I can't do marriage again. But, you're young and you have so much ahead of you. You're wasting your time."

Mallory sat up and looked at him, placing her hand on his cheek and leaning down to place her lips to his briefly, "It's my time so I think I should be able to use it how I want. I know you want me to tell you why I like you and what we could have but I can't. All I can offer is that I do want you and that I would like you to allow me into your life."

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, taking in what she was saying, "If you will agree to stop seducing me in different areas within the hospital then I will accept sleepovers as a part of our relationship. Deal?"

Mallory's lips curled into a mischievous smile, "I have one more condition before I will agree to your terms." Daniel rolled his eyes as she stood and reached for his hand.

He took her hand and she led him over to his sofa where she gestured for him to lie down. "Get some rest before you come down and work, ok?" she said.

Daniel smiled at her before he moved to lay on his side and pulled her down with him, "You need a mental break as well."

A/N: If you like it, you can keep reading here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12347373/1/Healing-The-Soul

[saintkeaton]

L u n a t i c H e r o 💀

(overstimulated)

we really are just one big organism 

my kids & me & the cats & the trees

there’s very few rules to follow

it only looks like a million paths 



but it’s one big road man 

& there’s no yesterday & there’s no tomorrow 

in the present moment with Alan Watts 

what a lunatic hero 

read a few Kerouac books & now I think I’m a scholar

thank Christ for another lazy Sunday 

I’m nervous & have the typewriter blues 

can you run out of things to say? 

I’m thinking maybe you can’t 

now there’s splinters in my feet 

& I’m looking through the neighbors window 

borderline copyright infringement 

daydreams of a bear in a 10 gallon hat 

my mind goes to goofy places 

looking through old vacation photos 

that early 90s brown filter 

feeling mortal & aged in my skin 

placing sentence over sentence 

in an attempt to clean house 

in an attempt to stay alive 

the cars drive too fast on this road 

nightmare thoughts of Pet Sematary 

I remember every movie I’ve ever seen 

wrote them all down in a list 

you don’t need a rhyme or reason 

freedom is the key component here 

could go on for days in the same fashion

as my mind turns like a wheel 

a broken splintery wheel mind you 

my sons plastic sword lay in the yard 

& 100 cans of cat food 

& the homemade wreath my mother made 

how do you stop thinking about death? 

how do you pretend life is normal? 

there’s nothing here but the ticking clock 

a few game shows to watch 

the beer & weed always run out 

& you’re secretly mad at me

as I dump my thoughts on Tumblr like a therapist 

a blind injection of no love 

maybe this will get a few likes & keep me hanging on 

I’m thinking of a new poem 

called “JESUS IN THE TRASH CAN”

& she promised to make breakfast this morning 

I smell no bacon cooking 

& there’s nothing wrong with how I feel 

I got too stoned______early in the day 

now it’s the motor mind salsa 

& I probably don’t need this hoodie anymore 

& I feel like jerking off 

all the trash is piled up in the spare room 

& the cats ate some raw chicken 

people keep recommending that I read Dostoyevsky 

man, I’m reading the Goosebumps books 

I’m reading the backs of cereal boxes 

my brain has stopped developing 

my brain is set in concrete 

just one big organism really 

time time time time 

glorious feelings

knowing there’s nothing to do today

I crave boredom 

I crave numbness 

so sick of the ultra meta-thinking 

folding the universe into a cube 

don’t be so depressing dude 

there’ll always be forest fires and mud floods & bullshit to watch on TV 

having entertainment is not the problem 

overstimulation to the fucking max 

so I return to my throne of shame

poisoning my soul through my eyes

my heart beating out my chest

my god! I can’t even make it one day

most of what I feel happens on accident

tired of the human race  

tired of the rat race 

but I really shouldn’t be complaining 

there’s breath in my lungs 

(choked out cigarette lungs)

it doesn’t matter what medium I have to use

I’ll get my point across one way or the other 

my own little psychological torment 

alpha beta delta gamma sigma omega 

what hides outside the spectrum for us? 

what curses have we not uncovered? 

I bet your mommy still gives you milk money 

I bet your mommy still tells you “good night”

I bet your mommy still loves your daddy

fuck all the rules that you think are rules 

& lay out the mind dump 

in an orderly fashion of course 

I bet your mommy follows the rules

for most of my life, I didn’t apply myself. the kid sitting in the back of the classroom, trying not to fall asleep. I couldn’t comprehend math, but I could fill a sketchbook up in a couple of days.

I never drink water

I only drink Mountain Dew 



I’m going to write a bunch of poems & bury them under the house 

I’m gonna turn myself into a lunatic hero for nobody 

eyelids keep closing

losing my consciousness 

in full bloom of 10,000 onlookers

& a bathtub full of nickels & dimes

I’m burnt out

I’m landing the plane

still, just one organism sitting here, waiting on breakfast 

10/29/2023 1:29 pm

————————————



[ithappensblog]

nice to meet you

Hi, I’m Jenny and welcome to my blog. In this post, I want to share with you some of the highlights and challenges of my life so far, and how I’m trying to find my purpose and happiness in this world.

I’m almost 34 years old and still struggling to figure out my life. Aren't we all? I’ve gone to school for a diploma program in Medical Laboratory Technician/Phlebotomy, a diploma program for Accounting Technician, and started my Human Resource Management diploma program too. I’ve always wanted to be an RN but, life and my body had other plans for me. I’ve always been interested in learning new things and pursuing different careers, and I've finally found one which fulfills me. I have a really good job now, but I’m not really supposed to talk about what I do so I’m going to leave that part out, but it’s finally something I’m good at and something I enjoy doing. It pays well and gives me flexibility and stability. It also challenges me and allows me to use my skills and creativity.

I have a husband who I’ve been with for 10 years now. Jason has helped me grow into a much better person and loves me unconditionally. He supports me in everything I do and encourages me to follow my dreams. I have 2 stepsons who have given me a run for my money but I still love them both at the end of the day. They are growing up so fast and I’m proud of the young men they are becoming. After an incredibly challenging fertility journey, I have my almost 5 year old daughter who is bright, caring, funny, and wise beyond her years. She is the light of my life and the reason I smile every day. I always tell her she saved my life, and it's true, but I won't tell her how until she's much older.

I have a passion for traveling and exploring new places. We try to do a big family vacation once a year and just this year decided that one trip a year should be spent nurturing our relationship. I love animals and have two dogs and three cats who keep me company and make me laugh. I’m on a journey to self love after spending my entire life as an overweight underdog. I’ve struggled with my body image and self-esteem for as long as I can remember, but I’m learning to accept myself and love myself for who I am. I have a daughter now, and I owe it to her to be kind to myself as the way I behave in front of her will be a reflection of how she treats her own body.

I live with many invisible illnesses both mentally and physically but try my best to get through every day. Some of the conditions I deal with are anxiety, depression, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, insulin resistent PCOS, Chronic Kidney Disease, chronic fatigue syndrome, migraines, and more. Yeah, I know, it fucking sucks. But, I'm definitely not here to gain pity for my health problems. By looking at me, you'd think the only problem I'd had in my life was enjoying one too many cheeseburgers. Some days are better than others, but some days are really hard. I try to be positive and optimistic, but sometimes I feel hopeless and overwhelmed. I’m grateful for the support of my family, friends, doctors, therapists, and online communities who help me cope and understand that I’m not alone.

I grew up in Guelph, Ontario and ventured back to Sudbury, Ontario after leaving my now ex-husband which was the best decision I’ve ever made. He was an interesting choice to say the least, and for the longest time I felt so trapped. It took me a long time to gather the courage to leave him, but when I did, I felt free and empowered. It was a turning point in my life that led me to meet my current husband and start a new chapter.

I’m thankful for this beautiful life I live. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. And it’s full of love, laughter, learning, adventure, growth, gratitude, and hope. Thank you for reading this post even though you're probably rolling your eyes at yet another new overnight brainchild. But I'm going to try to use this as an outlet to heal and grow from the shit life throws my way, and hopefully inspire others to do the same along the way.

[fruit-teeth]

Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 25)

Guilt is a cruel emotion. It was one that Merasmus did not know he was still capable of feeling – why, why did he feel guilty? He didn’t want it to be there, he hated that it was there. He hated the parts of him that were still vulnerable, still weak. Nothing made him feel worse than acknowledging those parts of his psyche. 

As he stared down the group of mortals before him (was Helen considered a mortal? Oh, well), he tried to suppress the guilt in him. There was no reason to feel it – they were not friends. Despite the fact that he had been aiding them, he did not view them as friends—or, at the very least, he did not allow himself to think of them as such. In any case, feeling guilty for concealing vital information from them was ludicrous. Wasn’t it? 

“So…let me get this straight,” Miss Pauling pressed her hands to her temple. “You’re telling me…your six-year-old daughter, Lucy, is part of a demonic entity? The same entity that our enemies wanted to summon in order to kill us? And you didn’t feel the need to tell us that!?”

“It’s a long, complicated story,” Merasmus countered, voice low. 

“We have time!” Spy urged, although in truth, they really didn’t. God only knew how long it would take Bea to try to attack the base after she had left with the address on her. 

“Tell us what happened!” Helen snapped in agreement. “You owe us that, at least!” 

Merasmus looked back up, snarling, “Fine! Fine, you want the truth?” 

“Yes, very much!” Medic nodded, leaning forward slightly in his chair. 

Merasmus tapped her foot against the floor, and after a moment, she took a long breath. “It’s not going to make much sense to you, but…I will try: it was six years ago, right here in this very town…” 

The memory of that day still felt recent. Merasmus was in his study, looking over a new spellbook that he rarely used when he heard a frantic knock on his door. 

He grunted in frustration, looking up from the book. “Who is it?”

A woman’s voice shouted back in reply, “Merasmus, we need your help! It’s urgent!”

Merasmus’ brow furrowed. He knew that voice anywhere. “Cynthia?”

Upon answering the door, Merasmus was met with the sight of Cynthia, a witch he knew, pacing anxiously. Cynthia halted when she spotted Merasmus, running right up to him. “Please, come with me! Something very terrible has happened!” 

Merasmus wrinkled his nose. “What? What has brought you to my door at this hour? Don’t you see I’m very busy? If you need me to help you with a spell gone awry or some such thing, you’ll need to pay me fi–” 

Right at that moment, a horrible shrieking sound rang out from several yards away. Merasmus froze, blood instantly running cold. 

“...what was that?” she asked, looking to Cynthia for an explanation. 

Cynthia swallowed, her sweaty hand gripping Merasmus’s. “The Corrupt is here…someone in town summoned it! Some of the other witches and I managed to halt its destruction, but we have to open the portal and send it back! We can’t do it alone!” 

Another shriek filled the air, rattling the ground. Merasmus pinched the bridge of his nose, but he sighed. “All right…show me where it is!” 

Cynthia led Merasmus to a clearing deep in the woods. There, about six other witches stood in a circle, and in the center of the circle, a hideous creature lay, tied up. A thick, sludge-like substance enveloped the monster entirely, and the tips of each finger were long, black claws. It howled like a distressed dog, white eyes glowing eerily in the night. Only a rope held it by its wrists and ankles while it writhed in the dirt. 

“Where’s the rest of it?” Merasmus asked, looking around for the rest of The Corrupt. “This creature is so puny, surely this can’t be the only one!” 

“We’re using this one as bait to lure the Kingpin!” Raven Backwoods, sleep therapist and experienced witch, explained. “The Kingpin never leaves a Corrupted One behind, it’ll stop whatever its doing to get it back!” 

Right as Raven spoke, another ungodly shriek filled the air. The ground shook, and a pair of huge, red eyes glowed through the trees. 

“It’s here!” A witch with half their hair balding exclaimed. “Quick, make the portal!” 

Merasmus jumped into action, recalling everything she'd learned about apprehending The Corrupt. “Someone hand me some gold!” 

Cynthia dug into her bag and handed Merasmus a hunk of gold. All of a sudden, the Kingpin burst forth, sending a wave of blazing hot energy with it. 

The witches shrieked in terror, but Meramsus held his ground. He looked up at the Kingpin, which now loomed over him like an eagle about to strike prey. It was much bigger than he’d thought, but he did not back down. 

“Back!” Merasmus exclaimed. He raised its staff and shot a burst of energy at it, causing the beast to rear back in rage. More Corrupted Ones sprang from beneath the Kingpin's wings, charging at the witches. A few of the Corrupt chewed on the ropes holding the captured one, freeing it. 

Merasmus grabbed hold of the gold again as the witches battled the Corrupted Ones around her. She stood up tall and held up the gold, announcing, “Look what I have!” 

The Corrupted Ones stopped their attacks and eyed the gold, shrieking in glee. They moved towards it, their movements cheap imitations of human beings. 

Suddenly, The Kingpin roared again. It knocked Merasmus into the grass, sending the gold flying. As Merasmus sat up, a sweltering blast of air rushed over him, and he realized that the Kingpin itself was hovering just over him. It stared down at him, its eyes red like flames and its hot, sticky breath gusting over him in waves. 

Cynthia pried a Corrupted One away from her, only to gasp when she saw the Kingpin looming over Merasmus. “Merasmus! What are you doing!? Get away from it!” 

Merasmus was not afraid of being killed – death meant little to him, after all. However…there was something else, something extremely unnerving behind The Kingpin’s eyes. 

“Get away!” Cynthia screamed again, getting to her feet and rushing towards Merasmus. However, Merasmus simply held her staff up and touched it just between the Kingpin’s horns. 

In her thoughts, she heard a distressed duck squeaking, a furious adult man shouting from behind a closed bedroom door, something shining gold in a box, newborns writhing and wailing within wrapped up cloths, blood on bedsheets, and a single black thorn. All of it, every single image, was tainted with a strong sensation of rage. Mortal rage, in particular, which could only fester after death, after being silenced in life.

When Merasmus came back to himself, he was still staring directly into the eyes of the Kingpin. 

“You were mortal once,” Merasmus said finally. He looked into the Kingpin's eyes despite the light and spotted the silhouette of a person somewhere deep within the demonic thing. 

“What are you doing!?” Cynthia exclaimed, trying to pull Merasmus away. 

Merasmus just shook her hands away. “There’s a mortal woman trapped in there! If we can pull her out, we might weaken the Corrupt’s power!” 

The Kingpin suddenly shrieked in outrage. It reared back up, opened its mouth, and without warning, shot out a large black thorn like a bullet. 

The thorn went straight into Merasmus’ chest before he had time to dodge it. Panicked, he stumbled backward and tried to dig it out with his fingers, but it was no use. His sight quickly turned pitch dark as the thorn seemed to burrow itself far into the center of his chest. 

Merasmus could hear another woman's voice speaking to him as the witches' shouts and yells faded. She sounded quiet but with venom in her tone. 

“I hope you will not resent me,” the woman said. “But I had to stop you before you became a nuisance. I must say, you’re quite observant…makes sense, you’re a wizard…you will make a fine addition to The Corrupt, won’t you?”

Merasmus strained to maintain his consciousness, fighting the darkness that was consuming him.  He soon noticed all of The Corrupt encircling him, and their former mortal selves gleamed vividly in front of him. 

Then, it all went pitch black. 

The next time Merasmus awoke, she was tied to a tree in the woods. She blinked a few times, looking around frantically as she realized where she was. Not only was she bound to the tree by her wrists, but her clothes had been ripped right down the middle. On her chest, where the thorn had been buried, now sat a large scar. 

Before she could try and understand how much time had passed, she could hear footsteps approaching. Cynthia walked towards her, a distressed expression on her aging features. 

Trying to break the ropes but failing since they seemed to be infused with magic, Merasmus yelled, “What happened!? Why am I tied up!?” 

“The Kingpin corrupted you,” Cynthia explained, halting at Merasmus’ feet. She knelt down and loosened the ropes, saying, "The other witches and I, we performed an unheard-of feat and managed to un-corrupt you." 

Merasmus shook away the ropes and rubbed his wrists, struggling to stand. “I…I did not know the Corrupted Ones were…not previously demons. That’s what all the texts seem to suggest,” 

“Well, the texts aren’t always correct,” Cynthia sighed, looking away. 

“Did you send it back?” Merasmus wanted to know, approaching Cynthia. 

Cynthia struggled with how to answer for a moment. “Not exactly…” she looked back at him, biting her lip. "You see...The only way we could find out how to extract the thorn from you was to create a separate being from your body that would carry the thorn instead..." 

“Another being?” Merasmus repeated, taking this in. He stepped away from Cynthia, shock spreading through him. “You…cloned me?” 

“It was a gamble, but it worked!” Cynthia assured him. “You’re no longer part of The Corrupt, but…the clone is, so…we must send it back through the portal with the rest of The Corrupt. We managed to seal it in a cave, but it won’t be held for long. We need your help sending it back.” 

Merasmus nodded numbly, following Cynthia up the trail nearby. The whole time, he wondered what this clone even could look like. He’d heard of magical clones before, but he had never actually seen one. On top of that, cloning spells were notoriously unpredictable. Because this clone had been compromised by the Corrupt's thorn, he could only imagine it looking like the sludge-covered monster that was seized earlier. 

However, upon arrival to the cave’s entrance, Merasmus would be proven wrong. As he approached, he saw Raven standing there, holding something wrapped in a towel in her arms. 

Merasmus stopped in his tracks, eyes focusing on the towel. “...what is that?” 

Cynthia took Merasmus by the wrist and tried to lead him toward the cave. “Don’t look, just come and make the portal before the Kingpin breaks free!” 

Merasmus tugged away from her, walking back towards Raven. Raven tried to hide the bundle, but Merasmus was much taller than her and reached right in to pull the towel back.

Laying in the towel, curled up and asleep, was a tiny newborn baby. The only indication of The Corrupt on them was a mark on their chest, where the Kingpin’s thorn now likely resided. Other than that, they looked like a regular, harmless baby. The child sniffed and yawned, rubbing their eye with their tiny fist. 

Merasmus just stood there, staring in awe. Raven looked at the baby, and then back up at Merasmus. “This child was cloned from you,” she explained to him. “But its part of The Corrupt. I’m sorry, but we have to send it through the portal.” 

“Why?” Merasmus asked, voice hoarse. It was as though her whole world suddenly shrunk down to the tiny baby. 

“You know why,” Cynthia cut in, placing her hand on Merasmus’ arm. "The Kingpin never leaves a Corrupted One behind - if we don't send this baby down with it, The Corrupt will be nearly impossible to send back through its portal!"

“Besides, why would you want a child?” Raven questioned. “I understand this is difficult, but you must understand that this is for the best!” 

The baby squirmed in the towel and let out a strained, sad whimper. Merasmus, moved by immense affection, pulled the infant into her arms and embraced it without hesitation.

“Merasmus,” Cynthia grunted through gritted teeth. Inside the cave, the Kingpin could be heard shrieking. 

Merasmus offered the child his finger, watching as they grabbed it in their tiny hand. After a long moment, Merasmus finally spoke. “I’ll put together a series of large stasis cocoons. I'll seal The Corrupt into each one with a spell; those cocoons can endure for decades, so I'll just need to recharge them every now and again.” 

“What!?” Raven exclaimed, horrified. “You can’t keep that baby, and you certainly can’t keep The Corrupt in stasis cocoons! This child will never be normal, and if they ever use their powers, that could risk breaking the cocoons! All of The Corrupt is connected to the same hivemind, and if you keep one free, you could free them all!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you…!” Merasmus trailed off, pressing his eyes shut. “I understand you did this so I would not be corrupted. Which…” he stroked the infant's round face. "I'm grateful; I don't know anyone who would have cared to save me. But…I cannot go through with this. Certainly, I sound pathetic! I sound pathetic, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t,” Cynthia sighed. “I’m sorry it had to happen this way…” she looked back to the cave, and shook her head. “Fine, do the stasis cocoons. Just…keep the child from using any magic until we figure something out!” 

Merasmus agreed and The Corrupt became imprisoned in stasis cocoons inside Coldwater Cave's depths. The entire process of this took three days, and after it was all over, he went back home with the infant. He kept his word, keeping little Lucy hidden from the world while not allowing her to use her powers. 

However, he’d grown too relaxed. Despite everything, he felt terrible for not letting Lucy play with other children, so when Olivia arrived, he lowered his guard. And now, the price for this was being paid. 

Merasmus finished by saying, "If Lucy keeps using her abilities in this manner, it could rupture the stasis cocoons and release The Corrupt. The result of that would be absolutely disastrous for all of us – we would be doing Zelda’s work for her.” 

The entire room had gone silent. Nobody had an idea of what to say for a long moment. 

Finally, it was Spy who spoke: “...six years? For six years, you’ve been raising this child with the knowledge that she could free those demons at any moment?” 

“Yes,” Merasmus replied simply. “But you have to understand– up until now, she seemed…completely normal. She may have dabbled in magic on occasion, but nothing significant or related to her Corrupt traits. She’s always yearned to practice magic, like me, but I always told her–”

Helen suddenly jumped up from her chair, fists clenched. “I cannot believe this! I cannot believe you would let her around my daughter, knowing full well what she was capable of!” 

“Helen!” Miss Pauling tugged on her sleeve, wincing. “Hey, sit down! And be quiet, the kids are upstairs!” 

“Lucy isn’t dangerous!” Merasmus insisted. 

“She broke a man’s arm! Right in front of us!” Helen walked towards him, coming to stand just paces away from where he sat. “And you’re saying having her around other children wouldn’t be dangerous!? Honestly – you put the whole world at risk by keeping her!” 

“And what would you have done!?” Merasmus asked suddenly, standing up. Being significantly taller, she loomed over Helen. “If it had been you, would you have sent Olivia down into that cave with those monsters? Would you have taken your hours-old child and left her to the demons? Hm?” 

Helen’s face twitched, though she did not break her gaze away from Merasmus’. “I already did. I sent my daughter to live with her father right after she was born.” 

There was another pause, before Merasmus inquired, “And how do you feel about having done that? Is that something you feel good about?” 

“We’re not talking about me,” Helen turned away, stalking back to her chair. She sat down slowly, feeling all the eyes in the room on her. Her eyes focused on her nails, and she finally admitted, “If you want to know…no. I’ve never felt good about…about letting my daughter out of my sight. I regret it, but there’s nothing I can do to change it.” 

“Exactly,” Merasmus slowly sat back down. “You understand why I did it, then, don’t you?” 

“I do,” Helen confessed, though she didn’t meet his gaze. 

Spy reached over after a moment, offering a gentle shoulder touch to Helen. Another pause fell over the room before Medic spoke. 

“The Corrupt used to be humans?” Medic rubbed his chin in thought. “Fascinating…” 

“I know,” Merasmus sighed, leaning her chin into her hand. “For whatever reason, the authors of those monster books I’ve owned never thought to mention it in any of the texts.” 

Medic considered this for a moment, and then asked, “May I borrow some of these texts? I’m very curious to understand what exactly these creatures are, what that ‘Kingpin’ is all about. I’ve meddled in demonic affairs before but this is very different than anything I’ve ever heard about.” 

Merasmus gave a half-hearted shrug. “Fine – but I will make copies for you! I am not given you any of my sacred texts…” 

Miss Pauling shook her head, standing up. “Okay, okay…we need to prepare just in case Bea or whoever else is on the way to the base!” 

“Yes,” Spy sat up taller, nodding. “Should we also do something about our loved ones at the base? It may not be safe for them to be there,” 

“I’ll think of something,” Helen sighed, standing back up again and straightening out her blouse. She looked to Merasmus, and added, “And we should keep Lucy somewhere safe as well.” 

“Yes,” Merasmus agreed, leaning his chin into his hand, eyes pensive. “But I don’t want to worry her. That could very well make things worse…” 

At the base, the radio in Engineer’s bedroom played a country song. Without really thinking about it, he reached over and turned the volume down. 

“You didn’t have to turn that down,” Fred mumbled, seated on the edge of the bed as he thumbed through a stack of clothes. 

“Oh,” Dell paused, looking back at the radio, but he shrugged. “Eh, its fine. You want me to turn it back up?” 

“Nah, its fine,” Fred glanced up, briefly, and then back down at the shirts. “I think only two of these actually fit me. Did they go back and find my normal clothes?” 

Dell thought for a moment. “No, I…I don’t think anyone went back to pick up your old stuff. I actually don’t even know where it is.” 

“Damn shame,” Fred grunted. “I had that keychain you made for me still in my drawer.” 

Dell paused as this sunk in, and he crossed over from his spot by the wall to sit beside his father on the edge of the bed. “You kept that? Really?” 

“Sure did,” Fred gave a little laugh. “I mean, c’mon – you drew a lil’ stick figure getting torn up by a robot. Funny as hell for a seven year old to draw!”

The two laughed about it for a moment, and once their laughter had died down, Dell cleared his throat. “Ma was so upset about that, she didn’t like it once bit and I got a whole lecture about violence.” 

“I remember,” Fred confirmed. “Your ma, she…she has a funny attitude about those things. I thought maybe it would change once we’d gotten married, but…I guess it never did.” 

“Mm…yeah…” Dell looked down at his feet, hands folded on his lap. After a moment, he said, “You should call Ma. She thought you were dead.” 

Fred looked back up, surprised. “Oh– you still talk to her?”

Dell’s brow furrowed at that comment. “...yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” 

Fred’s voice faltered, but he just shook his head. “Nevermind, uh…maybe I’ll call her later. It’s been a long day, y’know?” 

“I understand,” Dell took a long breath, looking away. After a long pause, Dell spoke up again. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Hm?” Came the response. 

“Did you…” Dell trailed off, trying to think of how to properly articulate what he was about to say. After a moment, he tried again. “Did you know it was my team you were fighting against?” 

“Of course I did,” Fred replied, though he was focusing on the shirts in front of him again rather than looking at Dell. 

Dell gave a nod, glancing away, before he looked back. “And…if I had been with them, would you have gone after me, too?” 

There was pause, and Fred slowly turned to look at Dell. “Well…” he struggled with how to explain. “I wouldn’t have wanted to, but…if I had to…I dunno.” 

“You don’t know?” Dell repeated. 

“You ain’t mad, are you?” Fred asked, voice dropping slightly. 

“Well…no,” Dell admitted. “I mean, I get bein’ loyal to your team and everything. That makes sense. But…”

Fred leaned in slightly, waiting for him to finish the sentence. “But?” 

"I dunno, Pa, it's always felt like you tried really hard to make your team and the job part of our family," Dell finally said. 

“That’s because it is!” Fred insisted. “I mean, c’mon, boy, it’s our legacy! You know that,” 

“I know!” Dell assured him. “And, don’t get me wrong: I do think of my team as part of my family. I have for years. But…sometimes it feels like work’s all you and I have. It’s the only thing that ever mattered around the house, around us,” 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Fred’s brow furrowed at that comment. “I thought you were okay with that.” 

“I mean…really, it’s all I’ve ever known,” Dell shrugged. "It was all I ever heard about - the job, the Mann brothers, fighting, everything, ever since I was born. But...it was different for Ma, wasn’t it?" 

Fred got quiet for a moment, lips pursed up in thought. Finally, he asked, “Has this been weighin’ on you that much, son?” 

“I…yeah? It always has,” Dell went on. “Ever since you and Ma split — probably even before then.” 

“…oh.” Fred looked down again. “Yeah. I mean, I can get why…”

A silence passed between the two, before Dell stood up. “I’ll call Ma,” he offered. “But after that, I really think you should talk to her. Right?” 

“She ain’t gonna want me back, son,” Fred stated, his voice low again. 

“Well…you don’t know that,” Dell sighed. “It would just be nice for us to…talk it out, you know?” 

Fred said nothing for a very long moment. Just as Dell stared to turn away, Fred spoke up again, “I need to talk to Bea. That’s more important. Maybe I can get her to calm the hell down and stop…whatever she’s doing.” 

“What if you join her?” Dell asked suddenly, turning back to look at Fred.

“Join Bea? With whatever the hell she’s doing?” Fred looked aghast at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t! She went through all of that to get revenge against you and the rest of your gang, which is real troubling. That ain’t how our family rolls, son.”

Dell just nodded, but he added, “Isn’t it? She’s getting back at us because of what happened to her and her teammates, which includes you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah…” Fred rubbed his forehead for a moment, eyes pressing shut. He opened them and looked back at Dell, mumbling, “You should go call your Ma.” 

“Okay,” Dell sighed. He watched his father for a moment, before walking over to him and leaning down to give him a hug. 

Fred reached up to hug him back, his arms wide and warm, though he said nothing else. Dell pulled away after a moment, stepping out of the room to call his mother.

[iknewiwouldregretthis]

i have not yet gotten a therapist like my doctor told me to do in february but i have a lot on my mind which means it’s time to make a long post so i can put those thoughts somewhere else

i like my job. it isn’t very fulfilling but i like the people i work with and i like that they let me work from home once a week so i can schedule all my appointments on that day and i like that as a company they want to support their employees and all that. but. it’s a very weird place and there’s also a lot of bad things. like the fact that i’ve had almost no work for six months and every time i ask for more work or suggest things i can do, there’s some reason it won’t work. “we’re not ready to pass that to you” or “that won’t be compatible with our new systems” or “the time it would take to build that system isn’t worth the small amount it would get used” and that’s fine! all of those are valid reasons for me not to do something! but every month i have like 35 total hours that i do work! and the rest of the time i’m just sitting there and i know it’s nice to have a salaried job where i get paid to do nothing but it’s miserable. i mentioned to my dad that i was thinking of getting a second job like some sort of low maintenance online data entry so i could do it on the down time of my first job and he was like “you should work on professional development instead. take classes. maybe see if you can get an MBA online. train skills that you’ll use in your next job. you don’t want to have one job forever, right?” which i hadn’t thought about. i’ve never had career goals and when i got this job all i was looking for was something officey that was pretty consistent. and i’ve been here almost 3 years which is the longest i’ve ever had a job (not including the three years i was an RA in college but that didn’t include summers so)

thinking about leaving is weird, but also being at the job has gotten weird and not just because i sit in my cube all day and do nothing. my best friend at work was having issues for months because she got a new supervisor who kept trying to micromanage her and thought she wasn’t doing work because my friend wasn’t doing the work in a visible way like the supervisor thought she should. my friend asked for a sabbatical or short term leave so she could take some time and get her shit together a bit and instead they fired her, citing that she was already on probation (which was a whole other bullshit thing. they wouldn’t let her transfer departments and wouldn’t tell her why but scheduled a meeting with HR that got pushed back 5 times over 2 months and when they eventually had the meeting they told her she was on probation because she was doing the work the same as she always had which worked for the old supervisor but not the new one. she got in trouble when i stopped by her desk to chat with her so we started doing weekly walks and all she could ever talk about was how she had another meeting with her supervisor where she asked for clear guidance and direction and got none). it’s been really weird at work without her and now one of my other best work friends is retiring. i still like my department except one, but i feel like all the people i like at work are slowly leaving. and if it’s just a job where i don’t like anyone and i don’t do anything then there’s no point in staying right? but also things might look up.

it’s still better than looking for a job but i’m not sure how long that’ll hold.

the other problem is that i’m bad at looking for jobs because i don’t have good quantifiable skills. i’m good at working with people and solving problems and doing a bunch of other things that don’t show up well on a resume. my friends make jokes about not knowing how i got this job but to be honest i’m not really sure how it happened either. they saw some sort of potential and i’m grateful for it because i sure do love acquiring money to live. and also a lot of the people. theoretically i could keep in touch with them but they all live in the next city or two over from me. and i have no idea how that’d go. when i lived with my sister i never did anything or went anywhere because i was always exhausted. maybe once i move into my new house i’ll have the energy to have friends at a slight distance. i hope so.

i also feel like maybe this isn’t really real problems. maybe i’ve been living in “get out of a bad situation” mode in my home life that once i finally got out of the bad situation, my brain didn’t know what to do and started looking for a new bad situation to worry about getting out of. maybe i’m overthinking it all because i’ve been living with my dad for almost seven weeks with another week and a half to go. even though it’s better than living with my sister by several orders of magnitude it’s still tiring being a long term guest in someone else’s house. i’m so ready to go home and move and finally live somewhere where comfort and contentment are on the table and readily available and then look at my life from there and see how i’m doing. and also then get a therapist because i will finally be able to look up therapists in the privacy of my own home with no one around (an inexplicable sticking point for my brain)

i can’t stop thinking about the “when it’s all okay i’m going to make a cherry pie post” because 1 cherry pie is my favorite and 2 it will all be okay when i move to the new house and it’ll be a little while before i can make a cherry pie from scratch but absolutely day 1 i am going to the grocery store to get a frozen one to cook so when i’m unpacking in my brand new house and putting my furniture together and may or may not have internet yet i will make the house smell like cherry pie and then i am going to eat it for dinner and probably breakfast the next day.

11 days.

[anemptygun]

i’m trying to understand these days

i think about when i told my therapist about the man 25 years older that groomed and fucked me when i was 17. i told her how badly it hurt, how i still missed him at 21 despite not talking to him in some time. and i cried and i cried, “i thought i was in love with him.”

and it was the first time i had ever felt so seen in my life, so protected in a space, as she looked at me and said so softly, “you probably were.” because where i had to spell it out perfectly to get someone else to understand why that would tear me apart whole only to have to put myself back together, she did immediately.

the weight of the world being on my 17 year old shoulders doesn’t get any easier now at 23. i finally start to come to accept the reality that i have been pushing so far away since i was young, and it is this: maybe my life has been hard. harder than i thought, harder than i give myself credit for. i dread that so much. i don’t want to be a girl who’s defined by how much she’s been through. i don’t want it to be evident.

but i also want to look at everyone close to me and ask them if that computes to them, if they wondered why i was so reclusive only to have the answer right in front of them. do they ever think about it? how many times has anyone ever given me the chance to tell them everything? do i want them to ask? do i want to recount it all? i guess the recognition and understanding would be nice. i want you to know i’m not like this for no reason. i promise there’s a reason. maybe a couple.

i wonder why it’s so hard to bathe myself, why it’s so hard to do normal things like dishes and laundry and simply waking up. i get up at 1 in the afternoon struck with the pain of it, of another day—i wish i didn’t have to anymore. i’m a child in her twenties who doesn’t know anything about real life and i’m reminded of that in every argument i have. i’m tired of being stagnant but it’s so hard for me to move, sometimes hard to breathe. i promise i want to change. i’m so tired every day.

i sit naked in my bathroom after a shower and i cry and i cry some more about everything that has ever happened to me. i shouldn’t have been the other woman at 17. these consequences shouldn’t be happening to me. i should’ve had a normal life. i want to be strong. i want to be normal. i want autonomy.

i don’t miss him now. i wouldn’t cry to her about him today—maybe just the 2 or 3 (or 40, but it’s only the 2 or 3 that matter) other men like him. the weight of the world on my shoulders at 17 (and 16, and 15, and 14, but what does it matter?) feels the same now at 23.

i miss who i was when i was 13. she was older than me.

every day now feels like pulling my teeth out. i wonder often when the next one will be ripped from my jaw and if it’ll hurt any more than the last.

i’m tired of the voices of gentle, “i understand.” i’m tired of the vitriol and the blame. i want the easy gasping desperation of, “i’m so sorry that happened.”

[osc-piastri]

anyways earth-557 my love <3

i'll be honest it feels a little weird talking about it after so long...

so. i think i want to keep a bit of the original idea -- you know, crime being rampant across the world, many people living within poverty unless they're willing to go the extra mile and commit various crimes that they probably wouldn't do unless they're really desperate.

not to say that law enforcement isn't a thing! it most definitely is, but it's highly corrupted (so really, nothing different from real life) and chances are if you can pay just the right amount, you're able to bribe your way out of seeing the walls of a cell. and if you're high enough on the crime hierarchy, you're never even going to know what the back of a cop car looks like or even worry about coming into contact with those guys.

i do want to keep an organization (separate from the government, because they're also corrupted. lol) that is working on stopping crime where they can. i might brainstorm the name + a suitable acronym when i get the time. but for the basics of it, it's a very underground organization, with most of the members being people without powers or special abilities. they're quite picky about who they let in, since they don't want anyone with ill intentions infiltrating their organization. clarke mannix, one of my ocs, is of course part of this organization but the only reason she's in it is because her parents were agents (thinking one died on a mission and the other retired), without it and if she didn't have any other connections into the facilities, she probably wouldn't be an agent now. this organization is set on controlling the increasing crime rates, by weeding out those within the higher parts of the hierarchy and taking them out one by one. thinking their original solution was to kill them off one by one... but over the years they've been adapting their strategy and restructuring old prisons (separate from the system) and even attempting reform strategies. they also perform raids from time to time. there's a lot of positions within this organization, from agents to doctors and therapists to leaders. it's a whole thing.

and then there's the crime organizations, that very much operate as a very complicated spider web. when you think there's several, there's actually one that divides into smaller groups and gives these smaller orgs power. they're all linked together, take one out and you're likely to find a link to another. these are the people who "run the world," taking what they want when they want it, regardless of who they hurt. they seek power and only power, and very rarely do they ever back down from a fight. i think a few of the smaller groups operate as gangs, with some having rivalries and alliances with others. octavia wu was part of one of the middle groups, so not too far down the hierarchy but high enough that if you wanted out, it was likely only through death. she operated as a hacker for this group and got them into any place they wanted to go -- until one mission that involved explosives and killing more than a dozen civilians. she's a prime example of what happens when leaving, because the ring can't just let anyone walk free. while they have the power, they are aware of the anti-crime organization growing, and do not want them alerted to their usual operating spots. this is why tavia goes on the run, how she loses her family and eventually has to fake her own death.

when tavia "dies," she enters the upper lower part of the hierarchy. she still has enough to survive, much more than others within society, so she could be in the middle class, if only for the fact that she isn't supposed to be alive at this time. i think people at this point still commit crimes, though not as badly as gangs and the entire web might. an example of this might be the newest addition to the 557 family, lark. he's generally a good person, and honestly i could even see him working as one of the lab people for the anti-crime organization, considering his original job as a dna analyst. anyways, lark might be affiliated with the good side, but he still uses his speed to infiltrate into the higher ups' spaces, to give back to the less fortunate. the worst he's done is breaking and entering with a lot of stealing involved, but what else is he going to do? he's got a kid to feed

anyways. this miiiiight flesh out the general idea for society within earth-557???? though i might be missing some stuff too. i'll write some stuff on my characters at some point (probs not tonight bc i'm hungry + need to shower) buuuut if anyone has any questions that'd be chill bc there are definitely things i haven't thought about that others might

[ipomoeatempest]

Just venting..

NOOOO, I think one of my old friends from highschool is a covid conspirator now... The only publicly visible post on her FB that she has is from 2 months ago talking about Covid, and 5g with some fishy "studies"(Edit: In the sense that some sites that seem reputable for some reason; also have a lot of dumb, self-published, and un-peer reviewed papers.) AGH, "Correlation, does not imply causation!"

Lately, these past few months; since around my b-day. I've been investigating the possibility of being autistic, and or having adhd. Though, while I do have some characteristics of adhd; I'm leaning towards autism with some slight overlapping of common traits.

Anyway, this friend from my past used to volunteer/work with kids who had intellectual/developmental disabilities. And, I remember one time; back when asperger's was still a thing. She mentioned I fit the bill.

I was hoping to see if she'd humor me long enough to ask what she saw in me that made her think I was autistic. As I've been compiling some extensive notes on things I've started to become aware about myself. Things like stimming, sensory issues, habits, and what not that by themself just made me odd. And, I never gave a second thought to. But, now I'm seeing in a new light as potential identifiers.

We used to be friends for a while. But, I had to remove her from my life because she kept treating me like a backup friend. She'd ditch me when we had plans to hang out. And, when I asked where she was/if she was on her way. She'd claim she forgot, and was hanging out with another friend and that we'd reschedule instead of coming to meet me. As well as other little things like that where I look back, and realize now I should've stood up for myself sooner.

On top of that; I love her. Or at least the old her. It's been more than a decade, and I have some major whiplash from seeing that covid conspiracy post on her FB profile. If it's not a troll; yikes.

But, there's definitely a part of me that will always love her. Even if it was unrequited. And, I wish she had respected me, and the friendship enough that we could've have remained friends. Even, if we never dated; just having such a cool person like her around would've been great. We used to sort of make fun of her grandma for buying into all that fake fox "news" stuff. She would also regularly read NewScientist, liked Star Trek, and knew english, spanish, and sign language. And, last I remember was studying to be an occupational therapist; specifically speech.

So, I don't know what happened.

[eldritchamy]

more hypno kink ask if that's ok! i am into it and want to be hypnotized but i have no idea where to go to make that happen... it seems you have firsthand experience, if you're willing to share? if not feel free to delete! just wondering where and how you were able to be hypnotized?

The unfortunate answer is I've never actually done it in person, and almost all of my experience has been with more sleep aid type content. I've really never done KINKY hypnosis.

I'd LOVE to have more experience with it, but I haven't really had anyone offer to do it, and the online options for it are not tailored to a personalized experience and, if you watch them from the wrong person, can be dangerous, irresponsible, or abusive.

Even if you find a safe source for that content, the results are going to be very hit or miss, because there's no one making sure the induction is happening for you at the right pace, or making sure it's working for you.

There was a therapist on youtube I watched some videos from and while there was educational value to her content, the inductions she demonstrated were all like 3 to 5 minutes in and out, and for me that's like "lady, what do you MEAN wake up feeling alert and refreshed, my brain has barely hit the FOREPLAY stage here and you're already done?"

I'd love to find someone who's willing to do it with me someday. Not even for horny reasons, I just think it feels neat all by itself, and sometimes it's nice to make your brain turn off.

I had a therapist try it on me once, but A, she was a scriptnotist and not very good at it, and B, this was before I started HRT and I was way too nervous about getting turned on by the concept to get into it at all, so it didn't have ANY effect on me at all.

My next therapist after her (my favorite therapist I've ever had and I miss her DEARLY, she was incredible) tried something with me once that I'm PRETTY SURE was meant as a fixation induction (staring at a point on the carpet), but she was sneaky about it and only ever did it the one time. I think she figured I either didn't really get into trance from it or I was thoughtful and introspective and open enough with her that there was no need to bother with it anyway.

Only other experience with hypnosis has been online, and I would strongly caution you AGAINST doing that recklessly, because you really don't know anything about the person on the other side of that, and should NEVER let someone you don't know you can trust play around with your suggestible brain.

There were a few different creators I used to loosely follow, but I haven't watched any of their videos in years and can't really make any recommendations for you.

The Secret Subject was probably the best of those, and definitely the one I'd feel safest recommending because she's a serious, licensed educator on the subject and is hugely, emphatically big on consent in hypnosis, and has a very queer community, but she purged most of her old videos from youtube and her newer stuff has a very different vibe from what I'm interested in. You can check her out if you want, she's safe. She has a great voice for it, too.

There was another channel I used to use for specifically helping with sleep (again, noisy brain problems), but I would absolutely NOT recommend that channel because I stopped trusting them a while back. I don't really get deep enough into trance to stop having a layer of my brain that's still active, so there's a part of me that's always paying attention, even while hypnotized. I'm a very slow and difficult subject and in the experience I've had so far, nobody is putting any post-hypnotic suggestions in me unless I allow them to. I noticed something about two of their videos that struck me as a predatory tactic that they were almost certainly using to find people who would be targets for manipulation, which sucks. So I stopped watching their stuff years ago.

So I've BEEN hypnotized a few times, but not in a way that I can really make any reasonable recommendations to anyone about it. The best experience you're gonna have with it is in person (so the tist can pay attention to YOUR responses and cater the experience to YOU) with someone that you are absolutely certain you can trust.

How to find IRL partners who are willing to do it with you, and are people you can trust? I can't answer that one.

[minutebyminute47]

To start, here are some pics of my adorable, loving,and oh so sassy cats, Bailey (Black) and Callie (Calico).

#catmom

So let me take a minute to introduce myself. My name is Hanna, and I am 27 years old. In February of this year (2023), I began a journey that I never expected to be so hard. My mental health has been rough for as long as I can remember. I was an anxious child and a depressed teen. I decided it was time to take action and that's when it all began.

#mentalhealthjourney

The main reason I sought out help was because I was struggling to go to work. My depression took hold of my life and I could not fight back anymore. I was at a place where I had nothing left to give. To wake up each morning and fight the urge to stay in bed became impossible. So I stopped. I didn't fight. I layed in bed and waited... Waited until I was ready to go back to work. Finally by Thursday (my 4th day of calling off this work week), I had the last breakdown before getting help. I called my doctor, crying uncontrollably asking for help. They put a nurse aid on the phone and she immediately gets me an appointment. That was the day that I began my journey with medication and the search for a therapist.

#journeywithmedication

The medication I was prescribed caused a mild skin reaction so I had to stop taking it pretty fast. This led to another doctor appointment and another new medication. Antidepressant #2 at the lowest dose begins.

The journey of regulating medication is to say the least, exhausting. I am still in the process and I am struggling. #antidepressant

Shortly after starting my medication, I found my therapist. We connected from the first session and she has become a lifeline to me. The process can be grueling and exhausting, but having someone go through a journey that causes a lot of pain and hurt makes it slightly more tolerable.

#therapy

The goal of this blog is for me to track my progress and connect with people on the journey of life. Welcome to my journey. 🐾🌻

-Hanna-