#go get therapy or better yet leave society

[s0fter-sin]

general society is such an underthought aspect of mha. obviously there’s the big things like the obsession over heroic quirks and the demonisation of villainous quirks. quirkless people are dismissed entirely but i don’t think we talk about how society in general would have to handle a world with super powers.

we know after afo’s first uprising, the government overcorrected and outlawed public quirk usage. we know people have their quirks registered and go through quirk counselling as well as a type of gym class where they practice under teacher supervision.

how in the hell is that supposed to work?

the closest equivalent i can think of is mental health services. someone would have to study for a long time to be able to pursue quirk counselling as a career. it’s also a highly personalised system: everyone has a different quirk - even similar ones have different activations, triggers, exceptions and drawbacks - so no two sessions could ever be the same. if anyone’s been through mental health services, you know how rough it is; it’s an overworked, underpaid system and if you live somewhere that only offers a few free visits, it can also be expensive.

and that’s an elective service.

almost everyone on the planet would need quirk counselling.

there’s no way they could implement such a labour intensive and individual public system and we literally see that they can’t.

we see the gym class in amajiki’s flashback and he only has a few minutes with his teacher before he’s chided for not being more impressive and utilising his quirk to the fullest and they move on to the next student. say a standard class is twenty students like it is at ua. that leaves just over two minutes for each student to learn and practice their quirks. you can’t focus on just one kid per lesson bc what will the other nineteen do? do teachers also have to have a degree in quirk counselling? is that part of becoming a phys ed teacher or is it some random joe schmo trying to wrap his head around literal super powers?

given that inko goes to garaki - a doctor - to confirm izuku’s quirklessness, it can be assumed that quirk counselling is entwined with the medical system. i don’t know if you’ve ever had to apply for a specialist before but you can be on their waiting list for a while. a quirk counsellor is essentially a specialist. are there subcategories of counsellors? do you focus on either emitter, transformation or mutation the way doctors become cardiologists, paediatricians and neurologists? or is one person expected to be equally knowledgeable about all three?

we see through toga that her counsellor identified her need for blood but they didn’t find a way to curb those instincts or even find a supplement for her. she’s left to be abused by her family for something she can’t control bc it’s literally in her dna. compare that to iida who knows he needs orange juice to power his quirk. his entire family are pro heroes so it would be easy to assume they could employ a private quirk counsellor the same way richer people can employ private doctors.

how many people have specific requirements due to their quirks? changes in their physiology that have to be treated the same way nutritional deficiencies and allergies do? even people without mutations probably have those requirements: does kirishima’s shark teeth mean he’s an obligate carnivore? does mina’s acid change her ph levels and what vitamins and minerals she needs? how would they figure that out? quirk counselling.

what about kids like touya who would need extensive counselling so he could figure out how to live with his quirk without hurting himself? kaminari essentially has seizures and they’re so normal to him and everyone around him that they’re the butt of jokes. they wouldn’t be a one and done patient; there’s always going to be people that need continued support the exact same way there’s people that need developmental and disability support. there would be so many quirks that harm their user, are they just taught to bury their quirks? as if that wouldn’t cause any physical or mental consequences?

governments can’t create a system that applies to only some people, we’re expected to believe they’ve made one that applies to all of them?

[dearest-painter]

Everyone wants my mom! PT. 1

Summary: Y/N is a widow and the mother of smiles morales, all she has now is her son and his uncle. While she knows smiles and his uncle are getting money for the apartment she isn’t sure how but when she sees someone that looks exactly like her son mysteries and obsession are soon shown.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,GOOGLE TRANSLATE IS USED AS IM A NO SABO KID! IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT WILL HELP ME GET A MORE ACCURATE TRANSLATION PLEASE SEND IT TO ME!!,Reader is Earth 42!Rio,Reader is unaware that her son is the prowler,Reader needs therapy,very out of character characters,this is a series,Her family is keeping secrets from her,Reader is feels out of place sometimes,reader has anxiety which is based off of me,Reader takes the Role of Earth 42!Rio but can look like however you wanna look like so you don’t need to stick with being Rio just an FYI,A ‘I 💙 your mom’ photo is used because I couldn’t find SHIT for Earth 42 Rio and it works since like almost every spider adult wants her,Rearer knows about the spider society and the multiverse because of Ben Riley/Scarlet spider,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

You love your son, that was very obvious from anyone who saw you knew your son meant the world for you but you knew every child will hide something from their parents. It’s natural for that as kids aren’t forced to tell their parents every little thing but all you wish is for him to be safe. After the death of your husband, Miles and his uncle Aaron became more overprotective of you but you also became a single parents and became the basically only income yet if it weren’t for whatever job Aaron does you and Miles would’ve been in a different place.

Miles joins his uncle at his job which makes you happy as he can have someone to look up, you just needed someone else to help you with Miles. He’s not a bad kid it’s just..you wanna make sure he has someone else to look out for him if you aren’t around. “Mom” You turned to your son smiling. “Sì hijo?” “I’m going with uncle Aaron, just telling you before leaving” you sighed and continued to smile as you hug your son. “Okay…be safe, Te amo” “Te amo mom” Miles hugged back and smiled. He knew you wouldn’t like it if you found out he was the prowler as he gets hurt and gets the money in a bad way.

Everything he does is for you, he promised his father that he’ll protect you and he’ll make sure to do that. You kissed his forehead then hugged him again. “Just be safe..both of you” “of course mama, we’ll be safe” you smiled then let him go as he went to uncle Aaron’s car. You sighed and laid on the couch as you decided to watch some random show as there wasn’t chores needed to do yet so just relaxing is what you want until the window was knocked so you looked up to see Ben Riley. “God fucking damn it Ben!” You got up and opened the window then yanked him in so you could shut the window.

“Ow” “I don’t care! I just laid down! I’m not cooking as I’m to tired!” “I’ll cook” you stared at Ben and he smiled sheepishly but you sighed knowing it’s better then having no food. “Fine…but don’t fucking kill me” Ben chuckled and nodded as he went to the kitchen while you laid back down on the couch. You met Ben awhile ago and learnt about his group named ‘Spider society’ and learnt there are more Spider-Man or women and more universes. It’s very confusing but in easy way..your basically not alone and there is a timeline where Miles has his dad.

It was comforting to have someone at home with you when Miles went to hangout with his uncle as you aren’t left alone with your thoughts but sometimes the occasional ‘Miles is hurt, call him now’ or ‘check the whole house so that no one will get inside’ or ‘what if Miles and Aaron are hurt as well!? You don’t wanna lose your whole family!’ will creep in but usually you’ll find a way to soothe them. “I made tamales” “oh thank god, your tamales actually taste good” “hey I make good food!” “Your other ones need more working on” Ben dramatically gasped while you chuckled and got some tamales…it feels like your husband is still alive with you.

[khutsydoh]

Realm of the elderlings ask meme thing

This seems fun!

Favourite Rote book: Fool's fate

Why: I loved the series even before this, of course, but it was after this that I knew in my heart that this series was going to be an all time favourite that nothing else could topple. It took me through every emotion imaginable, from laughter to gut wrenching despair, from anger to triumph. It has it all. Fitz's character arc goes to many interesting places. Fitzloved is at it's peak. The plot has many threads that come together wonderfully. The way fitz comes so close to accepting his love for the fool only to be left behind and going back to his heteronormative fantasy has done irreparable damage to me. The way it feels like we are slowly moving towards tragedy by the end and yet fitz fights the narrative itself to bring his beloved fool back. But it still ends badly. Peak "it mattered that the love was there" type of life changing soul altering shit I love. I still do have problems with the way fitz gets back with molly but my love for this book outweighs them<3

Top three favourite characters: Beloved, Fitz, Bee

Top three least favourite characters: Hest, Tats, Lant

Favourite ship of the floating kind: Paragon

Top 3 ships of the people kind: Fitzloved, Patience x Lacey, Amber x Althea (honourable mention to my headcanon that bee will find a female catalyst so that her, perseverance and the catalyst can be the chivalry/burrich/patience trio gone well. Gotta continue the farseer legacy afterall. Except she does not have the internalised homophobia and she has to make the cycles better as the white prophet. Edit: also Princess Caution x Felicity)

Would you rather be witted or skilled: Witted for sure

If you were witted, what animal would you bond with: My dog<3

Would you rather live in the Outislands, the Mountain Kingdom, the Six duchies, Bingtown, the Rain wilds, Kelsingra, Jamailia, the Pirate isles or Mercenia/Fool's homeland?: the Mountain Kingdom! I love the architecture there and I will be close to nature. I could live a quiet life in a cabin with a witted animal without completely leaving society. Plus I could go exploring the skill road to the elderlings marketplace and the place with the stone dragons if i want.

How were you introduced to the books: i went looking to a lot of top 10 fantasy type of lists and YouTube videos when I first wanted to get into adult fantasy. The Farseer trilogy was on most of them and the premise of a bastard prince who could bond with animals spoke to me.

Share a quote you love:

It was a long journey, in the cold and the dark. Somewhere I could hear a whimpering, and I despised myself for that, too. But as I scraped myself along, it grew, as a spark in the distance becomes a fire as one approaches. It refused to be ignored. It grew louder in my mind, a whining against my fate, a tiny voice of resistance that forbade that I should die, that denied my failure. It was warmth and light, too, and it grew stronger and stronger as I tried to find its source. I stopped. I lay still.

 It was inside me. The more I sought it, the stronger it grew. It loved me. Loved me even if I couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t love myself. Loved me even if I hated it. It set its tiny teeth in my soul and braced and held so that I couldn’t crawl any farther. And when I tried, a howl of despair burst from it, searing me, forbidding me to break so sacred a trust.

It was Smithy.

He cried with my pains, physical and mental. And when I stopped struggling toward the wall, he went into a paroxysm of joy, a celebration of triumph for us. And all I could do to reward him was to lie still and no longer attempt to destroy myself. And he assured me it was enough, it was a plenitude, it was a joy. I closed my eyes

- Assassin's apprentice

Why would I need therapy if I have these paragraphs from ms robin hobb.

Tagging: @apamates @lordgolden @annot8 @treezenith @kaijuerotica anyone else whose in the rote fandom. No pressure:)

[pico-digital-studios]

If Benjamin were to use his ECHO ability on each member of the Funkin' Gang, what physical traits and/or abilities would he take on after copying them? Actually, on that note, how do you think he'd end up interacting with each of them?

Grace: Hey, guys! We got our first question.

Benjamin: Sweet! Now, let's see... @trocyte asks, "If Benjamin were to use his ECHO ability on each member of the Funkin' Gang, what physical traits and/or abilities would he take on after copying them? Actually, on that note, how do you think he'd end up interacting with each of them?"

Pico: Ah, yeah, that situation. I remember now.

Benjamin: Yeah. I joined the fight with them after the Funkin' Society's boss tried to apprehend me before. My trip through the Funkinverse helped me see about another counterpart of me that also has the ECHO ability, but let's see... If I was replicating Salty's powers, I imagine my hair would briefly change to white, and I guess I could turn invisible or shoot electricity?

Grace: I remember hearing that Brooke has this ability to phase into arcade cabinets and take on a different form when he did so. I'd say Benjamin could do that if he could ECHO that ability.

Benjamin: That said, I just hope I won't have to worry about Sinnoh coming for me if I go into the wrong cabinet...

ErrorSky: What about Toon BF?

Benjamin: Ah, yeah. ECHOing him would definitely give me cartoon properties for a little bit, which would help with avoiding fatal attacks.

Pico: And to be fair, I'm not sure if Aloe really can be ECHOed, what with her being a succubus and all.

Benjamin: Yeah. Of course, I wouldn't want to ECHO the Funkin' Gang without their explicit permission, considering several, including the guys and girls I allied with, have fairly similar power outlets. That said, of course, it'd be interesting to see how Boom does her hardware interfacing.

Grace: I imagine that's down to her being a robot, with that AUX cord she has.

Pico: On the topic of that, considering she used to be with the Funkin' Society before defecting, how did it go getting Softie, Neo and B3 into defecting Cam's ways?

Benjamin: The audience out there won't know for sure on their end with the "canon" continuity, considering Beyond the Spider-Verse is yet to release in cinemas, but from our end, B3 seemed to leave on his own volition after seeing how rage-induced Cam can get. Neo/Leo switched sides after his GF managed to convince him to stand down, and when Softie was reunited with his Pico, those -friends he had helped through therapy were inspired and followed suit.

ErrorSky: Man, he must've really helped out a lot of fellow -friends with their struggles, huh?

Benjamin: Yeah. And he genuinely happened to enjoy doing it, too! Well, save for one particular case he couldn't work his head around.

ErrorSky: If there's one thing we can agree on between Softies, it's that the Fairests absolutely STINK!

Grace: Too right! Even MY parents have done better for me than they've EVER done for him.

Benjamin: So, back to the question at hand, if MIX BF or B-Bot had allowed me to ECHO them, I'd imagine I'd gain their sharpshooting skills and, in B-Bot's case, the ability to utilise further Copy Abilities from Rock's lineup.

Grace: We'd better see if we can get the Gang's opinion on this concept later.

Benjamin: In general, of course, I'd say I've gotten on very well with the Funkin' Gang during our time together. Our general motive of defying destiny and doing the right thing for the multiverse is what bonded both our respective groups together, and I wasn't gonna let innocent lives be claimed by a failed theory.

Pico: Heh, looks like me accidentally causing your creation AND helping defy your fated death at Ultra M's hands rubbed off on you.

Benjamin: Heh, yeah. Thanks for your help back there, Pico.

M: Yeah. I got a happier ending thanks to you guys.

ErrorSky: Huh? Did your cap just talk, Benji?

Benjamin: Heh, yeah. M's pretty much become my Cappy after me and her put Xenophanes to rights the other day.

ErrorSky: Hehe, awesome!

Benjamin: What about you, Sky? How'd you get on with other Skys out there in the multiverse?

ErrorSky: Well, simply put, I respect them all, despite some of their issues. Well, except for Miko. She's an absolute internet jerk.

Pico: Well, there you have it, trocyte! Thanks for the debate!

Benjamin: Oh! And as quick clarity, the MIX Boyfriend I was with wasn't the same one as the one in the Funkin' Society. I was with an alternate counterpart of him.

[time-bone-swap-au]

Time Bone Swap AU

A Hero is Born

Part 1

Part 3

———————————————————————————

Tang sighed, arriving at the Noodle Shop with a tired look on his face as he facepalmed into the counter.

Pigsy: Bad day?

Tang: No…they loved the story, it’s just that after, some teachers begun saying ‘Oh why does he care it’s not like it’s useful in the future…’

Tang: I swear…people in this society sound like my parents…

Pigsy: Hear ya go.

Tang: Thanks.

Tang: Waaaait…what’s the catch here?

Pigsy: Just take the noodles you damn freeloader!

Tang shrugged and took his noodles, Mei then dropped by and looked around the shop, confused.

Mei: Heyo!

Tang: Hey Mei.

Mei: Where’s Bai He? She’s not here yet?

Pigsy: She left for the construction site hours ago, she won’t be long.

Tang: Isn’t it getting a little late though?

Mei: Aw shucks! I came here to congratulate her!

Pigsy: Congratulate her? For what?

Mei: For instantly trending online! Look!

Mei showed her phone, on screen was a replay of Bai He’s stream, her getting in trouble with the Demon Bull Family.

Tang:…

Tang: Is that the Demon Bull King?

Pigsy: Heh…how ironic, you were just telling her that today! Must’ve payed those actors a huge ton of money!

Pigsy: And the special effects too, whew, how much money is her streams making?

Tang:…

Pigsy: What’s wrong Tang?

Tang: Mei do you have a tracker on Bai He?

Mei: Hey! How’d you find out I put trackers on everyone?

Tang: Bai He told me, remember that one time I got lost in the other side of the city?

Mei: Right…hmm…

She looked at her phone and checked the coordinates.

Tang: That’s far from the construction site…but close…

Pigsy: Tang is something wrong?

Tang: Bai He doesn’t like the Monkey King stories, there’s no way she would film something she didn’t like just for the sake of views! Get herself in danger? Sure, but if she’s not having fun, she’d rather draft the idea and leave it in the trash!

Tang: Something’s wrong and I’m gonna find out what.

Pigsy: You want me to call backup?

Tang: Are you sure? We haven’t seen him since he went to therapy.

Pigsy: Well it’s either we go there blind or we bring the big dude

Tang:…I’m not taking any chances, call him.

Meanwhile Bai He is panicking in the depths of the Demon Bull King’s lair…she is, currently trying to put a streaming set up so that the whole lair can be filmed.

She flinched as the sounds of fire and metal combine along the lair, as Red Son finishes off his father’s armor.

Red Son: And…that should about do it…

Demon Bull King: It’s…heavy…

Red Son: Ehm…th-that’s because it’s not powered up…yet…

Red Son: The suit absorbs energy to create energy, and what better source than the magic staff that kept you underground!

Princess Iron Fan: We should leave that until we have enough power, my love…

Princess Iron Fan: How’s the setup gamer girl?

Bai He flinched as she finished setting up the camera.

Bai He: Uhm…just about it…so what do you want to do? Like some sort of announcement? Tour? Do I have to interview you or…?

Red Son: We’ll take it from here…

Red Son shoved her out of the way in the arms of a Bull Clone, restrained against her will. After that Red Son opened Twixtch, and started recording.

Meanwhile, Pigsy, Tang, Mei were waiting for Sandy while looking for Bai He.

Mei: Look! Bai He’s live again!

Tang and Pigsy rushed beside Mei, seeing the live recording being played.

Red Son: Citizens! Tis I, Red Son, allow me to introduce my family to the rest of the world!

Tang: Yep…that’s definitely real…

Pigsy: How can you tell?

Red Son: As you may know us from legends of old, Well I’m here to tell you, that we are as real as the screen may tell you!

Red Son: For centuries the Monkey King has long trapped my father underneath a mountain, stopping him from dominating this pathetic world! And now, his time has come to rise again!

Red Son looked at his father with grace, with each stomp, the camera shook, his presence mortifying and dominant.

Pigsy:…I see now…

Demon Bull King: This message is for you…Sun Wukong…

Demon Bull King: Refrain from intervening…lest I show you no mercy…

Demon Bull King: Starting with her…

Bai He gulped as the Demon Bull King stared at her, eyes terrified for her life, the Demon Bull King knew it was impossible to kill the Monkey King, might as well threaten a few innocent lives just for him to know his place…

After all he did care about the mortal realm, more than anything…

Princess Iron Fan: Turn it off…we’re done here…

The live ended.

Tang: Oh come on! Where is he?!

Pigsy: Tang calm down, unless the Monkey King doesn’t show up-

Tang: Of course he’s gonna show up Pigsy! The guy’s a hero sure, but he’s reckless than a moth drawn to a light bulb! What if Bai He gets beaten to a pulp before he arrives?!

Sandy: Uhm…am I interrupting something?

Sandy shows up, holding a drill in his hand eyes glowing intimidately. Pigsy looks at him nervously…

Pigsy: Guys…meet, Sandy…

Sandy: The call I got was a lot to take in…

Sandy: You know what I do to guys that disrupt the peace?

Mei, Tang and Pigsy, shook a little

Tang: Uhm…Pigsy…was Sandy always…this scary?

Sandy approached them, slowly mimicking the Demon Bull King’s mannerisms.

Sandy: I help them out of course!

Pigsy: Wh…What?

Sandy: Heya Tangy! You lookin pretty sweaty there, need some tea to calm down?

Tang: Oh! Uhm, don’t mind if I do, Sandy…

Tang: Mei…this is uhm…Sandy…the backup we talked about…

Mei: Backup? He looks like the only thing he could kill is your nerves!

Sandy: It’s my own blend of anti-stress fruits! It really brings the heart-rate down!

Pigsy growled in frustration.

Pigsy: Sandy! What happened to you?!

Pigsy: Where’s the angry, glass-joint, fist-throwing buddy I used to know?!

Sandy: Oh well…my therapist said I really needed to calm down. That’s why I started drinking tea, doing yoga, investing in therapy cats really helps…

Tang: Yeah well…we’ll need you help a little guy…mind drilling down here? My daughter is uhm…trapped in there.

Sandy: Sure! Anything for a friend…but I’m telling you bud, if things get hairy, I’ve changed, I don’t go around pickin’ fights no more…

Pigsy groaned in frustration…but was slightly understanding of Sandy’s predicament

Bai He panicked internally as the Demon Bull King scrolled through ‘rare items’ and soon left to leave the staff for last while Red Son prepare the army for total world domination.

Also to guard the staff.

She uttered her last words in her brain, incredibly terrified.

Red Son: *Sigh* It’s really unfortunate for you Gamer Girl, always liked your streams…

Red Son: Pity I’ll have to kill you if the Monkey King shows up…

Bai He: Maybe don’t? I mean, he hasn’t been active in a while and uhm…it’s not like he’s coming for us now…right…?

Red Son thought about it, and did consider it strange

Red Son: Yes…odd…we sent that message a moment ago…now that Father is wreaking chaos he should be here by now…

Red Son: There were no announcements that he was retired…

Red Son: Did he get full of himself during those 500 years?

Bai He: Wait…you don’t know how he disappeared?

Red Son: Of course I don’t know! What? You think we would go up to the domain of the Monkey King, drop by and say ‘Mind if you let my father out of his mountain for a second?!’

Bai He: But his place is surrounded by the Flaming Mountains, don’t you and Princess Iron Fan live there?

Red Son: We used to, we moved some place else, after all if the Monkey King had the guts to seal my father under a mountain, he’d certainly have the guts to go back for my family just to be sure.

Red Son: Wait a minute, why do you know that?!

Bai He’s face expressed a nervous reaction yet remained having a smile.

Bai He: My…father…he uhm…he’s a history teacher…

She explained, peeking Red Son’s interest.

Tang, Pigsy, Sandy and Mei screamed as a swarm of Bull Clones headed towards them, Sandy broke the floor creating a wall to protect them, apologizing straight after.

Tang: Traps? Bull Clones! Ohhh this is a nightmare! We’re never gonna make it in time!

Pigsy: Would you get a hold of yourself?! They ain’t gonna kill her yet…

Pigsy: Whoever this monkey King is he’s obviously very clever not to intervene when there’s a hostage involved!

Tang: CLEVER?! CLEVER?! Have you even heard the legends?! Half the time the Monkey King had to SAVE HIS MASTER WHO WAS ABOUT TO BE EATEN!

Mei: Alright you two, less talk we gotta navigate this place more!

Meanwhile both Bai He and Red Son are sitting together.

Red Son: And she said I couldn’t do it! That I couldn’t bend the staff to my will, but I did! Ha! Take that mother!

Bai He: Not gonna lie, your mother sounds like a jerk to you…

Red Son: No, she isn’t! She’s just been hurt because father has been trapped for so long…

Bai He: That doesn’t justify being a jerk…

Red Son:…Yeah…I do wish she’d take it easy a bit…y’know…I mean, I can be strong in different ways!

Bai He: Yeah you can! I mean you built a gauntlet that can hold the Monkey King’s staff! That’s not an easy feat!

Red Son: I know right! It’s impressive!

Bai He: And this super base with all the bull clones was your idea!

Red Son: Yeah…yeah! You get it! I mean just look at this place! Everywhere has been touched by the genius of modern technology!

Red Son: I even made that impressive suit he’s wearing!

Bai He: You should really have some credit for yourself…it’s sad to see some of that potential wasted…

A loud bang was heard throughout the room.

Tang: Bai He!

Bai He: Mom!

Red Son: Wait…wait hold on…

Bai He: Hm?

Red Son: Your…mom?

Bai He: Oh yeah, I call my father my mom, cause he kinda acts like a mom than a dad…?

Red Son: Oh…oh okay…

Red Son: Ahem! Listen here you peasants! What do you think you’re doing, trespassing into the lair of the Demon Bull King?!

He looked at them, brows furrowed.

Mei: We’re here to rescue my friend, dingus!

Red Son: You? Ha! A couple of civilians playing hero? Well, let me show you what happens to HEROES!

Red Son summons the gauntlet and grabs Sun Wukong’s staff.

The staff sort of moves on its own creating destruction everywhere.

Pigsy: Ok…we are in a bit of a…disadvantage…

Tang: What are we gonna do?! It’s Monkey King’s staff, that thing’s not gonna budge on its own!

Tang: That thing probably weighs the size of a huge building!

They hide behind some crates before Red Son destroys it.

Bai He: Hey, dude…mind not completely obliterating my family?

Red Son: Oh…uhm…well…

Red Son: Bull Clones! Get them!

The army of Bull Clones all ambush the main crew as they separate running from the clones.

Red Son:…

Red Son: What do I do with this…?

He asks himself, then looks at Mei who’s completely demolishing the Bull Clones with her dragon form.

Red Son: Ok gamer girl, I kinda like you, not in a weird way, but can I at least knock her out?

Bai He:…

Bai He: Hold on I’m thinking…

Bai He:…

Bai He: Yeah why not?

Immediately Red Son uses the staff to try and knock Mei unconscious.

As he does the battle begins to ensue with Mei vs Red Son, causing a huge turn of events that leaves the crew and the Bull Clones baffled.

Tang: Come on Bai He, let’s go!

Bai He: What about Mei?

Pigsy: She’s handling herself just fine!

A huge crash was heard around the room, causing Red Son to drop the staff.

Bai He: I can’t leave her there!

Bai He rushes towards Mei’s aid…

Tang: Bai He!

The Bull Clones notice and begin to scatter on her.

Upon adrenaline she dodges the clones, despite her lack of experience.

Lifting the staff and swatting it at Red Son…

…

…

…

Red Son: No way! How could you possibly lift Monkey King’s staff?!

[silentheaven-sys]

TBMC Rant / Vent

Tw: Sa mention / Religion mention

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

One day you wake up, your legs sore, your eyes burning red, and you think: Why is my purpose in life to be Violated?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I was programmed to be a Housewife, or something of the sort anyways. As the old host and core of the system has vanished since my arrival, and since i was one of the last to be programmed Externally, i don’t have much memory of life before.

I was born as this and I will die as this, all my memories will be this, no past, no future, just the never ending present.

I don’t believe I can be Deprogrammed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I think it makes sense to establish some context:

I grew up in a strict, christian Place (won’t talk extensively for safety), surrounding my house we had around 10 churches, in particular my family was very high in the ‘society’ created there, we lived in front of the priests. I preached to younger kids, I was in the chorus, even the school life was dictated by church. We did homework all together at the community center (with the church people), we would routinely be sent to the mountains to pray etc… you probably understand the gist.

Since i can remember, we’ve always wanted to be a housewife, have 3, 4 or more children. Don’t work, dress pretty, satisfy your husband. It contrasted strongly with our sexuality and gender, which was a matter of chatter for the church.

.

I think it’s something that always described us as a system, this duality, this core need to be away from the church, away from religion because we are inherently unholy, but this control they’ve instilled in us never letting us truly escape.

This duality that they even programmed in us, really.

Even now, I haven’t left fully.

I moved country, but i Haven’t left. I’m going back once every few months at least.

How can i leave?

I still want to be a housewife.

A mother.

Even if i’m a boy.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Lord, Lamb, Box and Clock were all programmed before me. Lord having re-emerged recently (As Lamb allowed us to find a tiny sub system, no idea why yet), Lamb being our first alter, from what we can recollect, and Clock being the second. Box I can’t genuinely remember.

When I, Passerine, was programmed, the body was already older, not of much sure, but older enough to cause a different need to come from our handlers.

Lord, Lamb, Box and Clock are all aggressive, loyal, guard dogs or creators of duality. Meant to act up to cause ‘delightful’ punishment. Meant to punish others. Meant to always come back.

I was made for one job and one job only.

Housewife.

Which didn’t mean just, clean the house and pop some kids as i’ve been led to believe.

It meant my body would freeze, absolute paralysis, with the use of a single Word. It meant my tongue would be caught in my mouth it meant i couldn’t speak or move but just take it over and over again even if i was bleeding.

We had another ‘trigger’ that would instead, give us a very opposite reaction, one where we were forced to beg: to be hit, to be used.

It’s still in me, it’s still something i do, i still freeze when my partner forgets he’s not supposed to say that word, i still try to get naked when his expression sours.

I still mother him, i still clean the house, i cook, i desire children, it’s my job.

Every time he holds me, caresses my hair, and he’s reassuring me it’s okay to not enjoy sex, that we can make it all better, i can only repeat

It’s my job.

It’s my job.

And i’m never getting better.

.

until 2021 i was not aware enough of who i was, what was happening.

Lamb to this day likes to lock my tongue up when he feels like his control is slipping.

When i want to say no.

.

Now, after years of therapy. I can’t say it has gotten much better really

It’s still my job.


and it hurts even worse.

[cryptidsncurios]

AU: ODNOGLAZYY UBIYTSA

a.k.a.

That Modern AU Where Xigbar is a Russian Assassin Working for a Cult-Like Entity Known as Organization XIII / The Organization That Is Actually Secretly Run by an Even More Mysterious Entity and Boy Lemme Tell Ya It’s a Ride from Start to Finish

[[bio subject to change/additions if necessary]]

Name: Braig “Lock” Metkiystrelok (originally Luxu before his name change)

Codename: Xigbar, Number II, "Freeshooter"

Age: 45

Birthdate: May 22, 1979

Birth Location: Moscow, Russia

Ethnicity: Half Russian, half something else, but he hasn’t bothered to check

Languages: English, Russian, the majority of Spanish, some French

Height: 6′0″ (About 183 cm)

Weight: 180-ish lbs (About 82-ish kg)

Race: Human (apparently)

Sex / Gender: Cisgender Male

Sexual / Romantic Orientation:  Pansexual / Demiromantic

History:

Abandoned as a baby, left on the steps of an orphanage in Moscow, Russia, and dubbed “Luxu” upon his discovery, the first part of the child’s life was difficult, to say the least. Luxu started out life shy and polite, though as he bounced from foster home to foster home, even as a young child, he began to develop a far less friendly and more belligerent personality. 

At the age of 7 he was adopted by a man named "Mikhail Oleksandr Metkiystrelok." Mikhail was a strange, eccentric individual that Luxu quickly noticed to have a secretive nature, but as a parental figure could still be rather strict despite his ridiculous behaviors. Nonetheless, he demonstrated care and hope for Luxu's future, and Luxu picked up on that odd sense of humor.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall and as the Cold War continued, they abruptly moved to California in the United States when Luxu was 10. Mikhail had his name changed to “Braig Lock,” believing that might help him fit in better with his peers. (It’s like a combination of Brad and Craig okay shhh I know it doesn’t make any sense leave me be.)

Yet what should have been a joyous new chapter in their lives quickly turned to tragedy upon reaching American shores. Only a few months after their arrival, Mikhail disappeared under mysterious circumstances---assumed dead---leaving a traumatized Braig to be moved back into yet another foster home.

During his first few years in America, Braig experienced isolation from his peers due to his thick accent, and his teachers encouraged him to take some form of speech therapy. Being the adaptive child that he was, Braig quickly took to exaggeratedly mimicking the stereotypical “Californian” accent that he often saw on television and movies (and amongst a few choice neighbors, of course). He still did not particularly fit in and was often the victim of his larger roommates, but at least the “commie” jokes came to an end.

During his mid- to late-teen years, Braig was uncertain of the direction he wanted to go in life. He engaged in various delinquent behaviors that often got him into trouble with law enforcement, such as petty theft, defacement of public property, and just basically being a belligerent nuisance to society. He often displayed a seemingly (though, of course, entirely false) apologetic enough demeanor once he was caught, so that the worst he would get throughout his youth was a slap or two on the wrist.

However, upon reaching early adulthood, getting his GED with considerable ease due to his shrewd intellect (important to note that his teachers despised him for acing his classes despite his lack of attention), his lax demeanor when it came to obeying the law did not lessen as he began traveling the U.S. and bordering countries in search of purpose. He was consistently in and out of jail and prison, accumulating charges of DUIs, drug possession, vandalism, discharging firearms (multiple times), and numerous cases of disturbing the peace, totaling in well over a decade or so of his life spent incarcerated in separate increments. (The prison tats from this era are utterly epic, by the way.)

Unfortunately, this felonious behavior led to difficulty in actually finding work (he really tried, okay, it’s not that easy), and eventually—disrespect for the law his forte by this point—he began working under the table as an unlicensed private investigator, and he was damn good at it. Braig took on jobs that were considered too dangerous for other P.I.s, or that involved outright illegal dealings, and during this time he honed his body into a weapon, gaining scars upon scars as evidence of his dedication---as far as losing his right eye (which he continuously changes his story as to its loss)---and learning all the best ways to avoid confrontation with the law.

As his career unfolded, Braig began looking for even harder, more intense cases. Coincidentally related to one of his many clients’ cases (a client that, oddly, chose to remain anonymous---but how could he pass up the pay), he stumbled upon information regarding a highly secretive, highly dangerous crime syndicate that went only by the name “Organization XIII,” or, often simply “The Organization.”

And apparently, his adoptive guardian of so long ago seemed to be connected somehow---and Braig could only assume that the Organization was somehow responsible for his disappearance.

Delving even deeper, he learned at the head of this Organization was a man named “Xehanort,” and once his findings were concluded, Braig decided to take on this Organization himself—out of revenge for one of the few people that had ever taken a liking to him.

At last he believed he had discovered the hideout of the person named "Xehanort"—an old recluse hiding in an obscure hovel, and the puppet master over five murderous “apprentices,” as well as a vast network spanning the entire globe.

But he had been incorrect about finding Xehanort---instead discovering Mikhail behind the screens.

As it turned out, "Mikhail" was nothing more than one of the names the man had accumulated, and that his previous appearance was just a disguise. His “true” identity was simply "The Master," or, as the Organization knew him, "Darkness"---he who controlled entirely Xehanort's actions himself.

Thus, the Master announced that at last it was time for Braig to take up the reins, as he was sure he would so long ago---that he would now become "Darkness."

It was then that the Master disappeared once again.

Braig considered following the Master---attempting to wring more information out of him---and yet he could see hundreds of messages that had popped up on the Master's ever-active terminal.

And Braig---suddenly feeling as though this might be the answer to his ever-present question of his role in this world---responded to each and every message, thus beginning a new chapter in the tale of Organization XIII.

Now under the guise of “Darkness,” Braig—now going by the codename “Xigbar, Number II, 'Freeshooter' ”—was granted one of the primary positions in the Organization, underneath Xehanort and his family. The other “apprentices” were informed that he had been a part of their ranks for an extensive amount of time, but he had yet to make his appearance for personal reasons.

No one questioned the explanation.

And no one questioned when he suggested they begin to accumulate new members—for the sake of expanding the global presence of the Organization.

And so continued the game, ever-onward---with no real explanation.

But isn't that how it always goes?

[pokidot]

MANDELA — CHARACTERS (2)

VENTI — Even with his extensive litter of awards from multiple sources of generational, yet bridled talent, Venti hated being active. Nothing irked him more than being a member of society. There’s time he wanted to shave his head and become a nomad, or maybe even a bard in medieval times playing at his tiny little harp, or playing a harmonica in prison. It’s not because he didn’t have ambition, he just didn’t want to be bothered. So, in retrospect, he shocked himself a little when something so ridiculous interested him so much that he wanted to tag along. It was like he had hearts in his eyes the minute he saw that ugly looking creature on the first slide of your presentation. Who knew your chaos would be his stimulus?

XIAO — It wasn’t his idea to start the Chess Club at the university— it was Venti’s. Even with that in mind, Xiao still was credited. His name was plastered everywhere on those fliers to join the chess club, and he hated it. Heizou’s dedicated advertising got them nowhere, and in result, all of the attendants pretty much got away with not doing anything during chess club. It was cool for a while, Xiao finally got to catch up on his studies. And then it started to become every day…where he would sit there with the rest of his friends and do nothing. It was driving him insane; he usually liked being alone, why would he want to spend time every single day with his friends? He’s not even the self appointed leader, they just made him that because he was the most responsible. Inertly, he was relieved that you gave them something to do, because he was on the cusp of going M.I.A.

AETHER — He was many things, but one thing he’ll never be is a pussy. He was so adamant at one point that he and his sister were from a bloodline of ghosts? Like, they were never human at all, they’ve just been ghosts their entire lives. As if they were meant to be soulless, and bloodless beings. He got that thought after one day leaving a organization for charity (it ended up being a cult. Apparently, they kept trying to convince him that “the spirits are watching him and he needed to be enlightened”. His friends told him that he’s crazy, and he thought it was bullshit too, up until he took a DNA test and it turned out he was 99% of everything. Now, he lives in paranoia that everything he says is a test from his ancestors, and is going through this extensive identity crisis. You were no gospel, but even you thought he needed therapy.

HEIZOU — You were scared of him, and he was the reason why you thought there wasn’t a single normal person in Kuni’s friend group (you were elated). For some reason, after Heizou found the IP address to one of the biggest bandits in Inazuma at the time and beat him to a pulp, he started thinking bigger but he didn’t start thinking better. He’s currently looking for a notorious drug cartel leader who’s never been caught before, and he is stopping at nothing to find something that will get him closer to the truth. His goal is to wipe out the Top Ten Most Wanted Criminals list, and as a university student? That is a bigger dream than you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.

KAZUHA — It was the university’s idea to appoint people to take care of the souvenir shop they had, and every single time, Kazuha was always the one who ended up taking responsibility. Nobody comes to the souvenir shop except people who are just traveling, so he ends up doing absolutely nothing there except cleaning and restocking. Except there’s nothing to restock. Because nobody goes in there, but for some reason, students and professors alike more than often come in to get an astrology reading from the woman at the back of the store, Mona. She even gives them coupons, are you kidding me? He didn’t even care about the souvenir shop that much until she started shimmying in stealing his nonexistent business? And ever since then, he’s been silently competing for her business, and Mona doesn’t even know it. If this ghost hunting club didn’t come into his life, he was pretty sure he would’ve went insane sooner.

HU TAO — The girl who keeps following you around the university? You’ve noticed she’s always where you are ever since your presentation, but you’re not sure what she wants.

prev | masterlist

NOTES || i've come to realize that the reason why i go in depth with these characters is because i have no character of my own 😒 (spongebob disappointed noise)

TAGLIST: @wisteriarain @akagism2 @murderisokayforme @aeongiies @d4y-dr3am3r @truck-kuns-gf @3lysiaa @ayoitsmarie33 @crucnhice @natsuscrustyscarf @dreamsofminnie @zuchilovescats @goj0h @cicibao @xirthia @kylexzz @dollpoetwriting @dreamingkace

[iravaid]

I love your writing so much, your Simon Riley in Situations series is probably one of my favorite works in the entire fandom!!! The way you write tommy and simon’s relationship gives me so much emotions lol, like even though it only comes up a couple times in the entire series there’s just so much there! That flashback we get in in the desert was just a brief glimpse, and yet it was so much more powerful than how they were written in the entire canon comic (which might not be saying much because that comic left a lot to be desired, but still) It had me imagining their relationship as kids, and how tommy probably had a much easier time navigating their dad’s moods while simon struggled to pick up the social cues and unspoken meanings behind words and stuff like that, and how tommy, as a kid growing up in a pretty ableist society who had probably never even heard of autism until his teen years, would probably get frustrated with simon and not understand why he couldn’t just say the right things when he needed to, why he couldn’t just do what he needed to do to not make the situation worse (and simon feeling the same way and wondering why he couldn’t just know how to smile and say what people wanted to hear, like tommy) (This ended up being long and rambling but your fics just give me so many riley brothers feels lol XD)

Oh shit!! Thank you so much!!!! I'm so happy you enjoy this series, especially the relationship between Tommy and Simon!! It's genuinely so interesting to me and has a lot of potential to be built upon, considering how little there is for them in the comics (both a blessing and a curse let's be honest).

Augh, yeah, them as kids has a lot of emotional oomph, especially if taken the way I have, in all essentialities, taken the characters in my grubby mitts and gotten lint all over them. Tommy probably was the golden child in this family, Nigel played a lot of games in tormenting his kids, and I imagine turning them against each other, or at the very least Tommy against Simon, was one of them. I wonder if that dynamic might have changed when Simon left, leaving Tommy to be the only child in the house and no longer having a 'weird' older brother occupying the role of scapegoat (and protector, in his own way). In the beginning, I can see Tommy hating Simon for leaving, it's easier than hating his abusive dad at this point.

Things do change for the better, and in all honesties I can see Tommy getting therapy/counselling as an adult and learning how to become better adjusted and look back on his childhood with a trauma-informed lense, equipped with a kind of knowledge and vocabulary Simon doesn't/refuses to have. Internalied ableism definitely informs how they process their trauma and percieve therapy, and for Simon this is another brick in that wall after growing up the 'strange' one in the family that just doesn't get it. This is another thing he doesn't get, and it's a source of anger for him.

I imagine there is a lot of frustration for Tommy in the things you mentioned above, which is a dynamic I love love love, considering Autistic Simon growing up in Manchester in the 80s/90s at this point would be. A Lot for both of them, for different reasons. I imagine it would serve to emphasise that feeling of isolation Simon feels in this series, and I would go so far as to say Tommy doesn't hear the word 'autism' until he's an adult/in his 20s. Before then it was always alluded to, or people saying 'he's rather... odd.' about Simon with a strange expression on their faces. Autism and Asperger's (it's an outdated term now, but one that was used then) were very stigmatised and you were seen as there was something wrong with you or you were 'slow'.

God but their potential brotherhood when Simon comes back and kicks Nigel out of the house, and helps Tommy heal. I really love the complexity of their relationship, how two brothers who survived an awful childhood have different ways of coping and healing from it. Again, all in our collective heads, but I'm happy the comics only gave us the bare bones to play with. We'll grow our own meat, with blackjack and hookers.

I really want to write/am in the process of writing a fic set in Tommy's POV, waiting for his brother, beginning from Simon being announced missing after he's caught by Roba, to him being found and returned home, and ending just before That Scene. I want to explore their brotherhood through Tommy's eyes, how disparate some parts of them are and how similar others have ended up, as well as play on a theme Ghost haunting the family well before Simon is returned and believes himself dead. I'm unsure how it'll end up, but the goal is a 20k oneshot. Hopin to work on it in earnest in August, when Art Fight is over :D

Again! Thank you so much for this message! Had a big grin reading this, I'm so happy you liked those fics! Hell yeah!

[antiterf]

hi, i hope you're doing okay! this is kinda heavy ask so feel free to ignore this but.... what do you do if you feel hopeless as a trans person in regards to all the transphobia and hate and violence we get? i feel like now more than ever transphobes are being so so extremely loud because trans people are actually making (slow) progress and trying to change society to be more accepting. but as a trans guy, especially one that doesn't want to fully transition, i'm left often contemplating if it's best that i just accept that i will most probably have to be closeted until i die to avoid hate. i already have gotten rape and death/suicide wishes many times online for simply being anti terf and transphobia and being openly trans. it's great to see many people, trans and cis, to be supportive and loving but i can't help but feel depressed and helpless and angry at all the transphobes. i'm exhausted thinking every day that my true existence is something very controversial and many people want me either converted or better dead.

That's kind of tricky to answer, I came out in 2016 prior to "Rapid Onset of Gender Dysphoria" conspiracies, the Orlando shooting and the Trump election so while trans people were still stigmatized, it was expected that things would keep getting better.

For me personally, I know it'd be silly to go back. I'd rather leave the United States than go back. The anti trans sentiments are nothing compared to being closeted, anxious and depressed to me. I was bullied and treated like shit at times, but it was still better than what I had before. Hell, I still go through shitty things for being trans, but it'll never be worth detransitioning for me.

But obviously this isn't the case with everyone. I live in a pretty liberal state, instead of restricting access progress is still being made in Illinois.

Especially when you have yet to come out and start the transition process. You're so fucking vulnerable at that point and I'll always understand if people don't want to. At the same time, sometimes we need to take the jump. It's up to you at the end of the day, but if you're in a safe environment generally besides government (this is coming from an American so keep that in mind), I say go for it.

When it comes to keeping hope I look to other trans and trans allies. I don't have hope in my government or society as a whole, but I have hope for my community. It's queer support that allowed me to feel comfortable enough to come out in the first place. It's as plentiful as trans hatred, if not more, and it means a lot more to have supportive people you personally know than a bigoted politician who'll never know who you are. I know you mentioned that knowing that people care doesn't help much, and in concept yeah, it really doesn't. It helps a lot more to personally know those people and surround yourself with them.

If you can, I strongly encourage trying to find a lgbtq center or group to join, hell even lgbtq specific therapy groups. Just, try your best to surround yourself with other queer people. It really helps remind you that you're not alone, that people care, that it's not hopeless, and most importantly that there's effort to make things better.

We're all working to make things better in the ways we can. Because that's what care and support means. It adds up the same way hate does, and if I know how hate can build and be terrifying, then I can't really say that it's impossible for it to work the other way around with love.

I hope this helps in some way. I sometimes question why I have hope too honestly. It's hard, but hopes out there.

[staringdownabarrel]

One of the things I really liked about Picard's second season was the storyline about Picard's mother having a mental illness.

Part of this is just because of my own experiences with mental illness in my own family. This isn't something I enjoy talking about and this is probably going to be one of the very few times I ever talk about on here, so don't take this as permission to message me about this. It isn't.

My mother is also mentally ill. When I was young, she had multiple schizophrenic episodes that often required her to stay in a psychiatric ward. A lot of this was because they hadn't yet found a medication that would work for her. They've since done this and it is working for now--the last time she was in that hospital was in 2015, and the time before that, 2001. So my experiences with mental illness in the family hasn't been as dramatic as some other people's have been, but they still happened.

But for a long time, it wouldn't be unusual for her to be hospitalised a few times a year. When you're a young child, this is a very confusing thing and you don't have the life experience or the vocabulary to fully process what's happening. Years later when you do understand it, it's a difficult thing to talk about because very few people outside of your immediate family will fully grasp your experiences. Even inside the family, it can often lead to recriminations about one family member having a better relationship or another not being around for this episode or whatever, so it's often something that's just never spoken about.

So on a deep intuitive level, this storyline resonated with me. That Picard still struggles with processing these experiences decades later makes a lot of sense to me, because that's been my experience as well.

I think it also helps to explain why he's such a private person later on when he's commanding the Enterprise. When this kind of thing is a part of your early life experience, especially in such a dramatic fashion, there can be a fear that anyone else you let get close to you will leave you in that dramatic way as well. There's also the fear that your own perspective on life is so different, so heavily tinted by these experiences, that the gap between you and another person is unbridgeable.

It also explains why he allows Troi to have a position on the bridge, even though every other captain introduced in the series so far hasn't had a counselor on the bridge. Someone who's had these experiences early on that end in suicide really would realise that sometimes you don't notice these things until it's too late, especially if you aren't trained to see the signs.

While this is likely just me reading too much into things, I think it does broadly fit with how Picard has traditionally been portrayed. It made sense that he was like that naturally of course, but having it be a result of some level of childhood trauma makes sense as well.

The other reason I liked this plotline is because I think it is a good concept in general. When you have a society like the Federation where a person has strong legal protections for their individual liberties, at what point can the state intervene in your private life?

In real life, a person is often only forcibly sectioned if they can be proven to be a danger to themselves or the people around them. This is why there's that ongoing issue with therapy averse people in general forcing every new friend they make to be their unpaid therapist. Most of the time, you can't actually prove they're an imminent threat to themselves, so even if you do call in a welfare check on them, they often won't be carted off to the hospital afterwards.

This even applies in some very extreme situations at times. It's why someone like Gail Chord Schuler, who demonstrably needs psychiatric help, to start taking her medication, and maybe stay off the internet for a little while can go around doing whatever it is she's up to now instead. While mentally unwell, she's also not really a threat to anyone, so the state can't force her to get help.

Of course, in real life, part of the problem is that a lot of health services in general, and mental health services in particular, are wildly underfunded, and there's often a cost barrier for people. In the Federation, this wouldn't be an issue. They're so keen on people being able to receive medical help that they'll give it to people openly rebelling against a close ally (TNG: The Mind's Eye). Money is a foreign concept for a lot of its citizens. There's no way they wouldn't have the resources to provide help for Yvette Picard if she wanted it.

The only thing preventing it form happening is that Yvette doesn't want it. A government like the Federation wouldn't want to force it on her, and probably legally couldn't. What would happen as a result is that in the utopian Federation, someone could just refuse help because they don't want it.

Something like that is an interesting look at the limits of Federation utopia. In a lot of ways, it's a much more interesting look at it than the "What if there was a major war and they had to decide whether or not to do this otherwise unthinkable thing?" angle that the franchise usually approaches this issue from. Instead of it being a limit that's brought on by the onset of a once-in-a-century level major war, it's the kind of small scale limit that would affect the average citizen on a personal level.

To me, that's a much more interesting look at the limits. In extreme situations, there'll always be extreme reactions, but mental illness is a common enough thing that it happens all the time. It's the kind of story that I think Star Trek as a whole is conceptually well suited for.

That isn't to say there aren't issues with this storyline, but I don't think they're any worse than any of Star Trek's previous issues with portraying mental health issues on screen. A lot of the issues also tie into Picard's overall pacing issue, which is something that's been an ongoing issue for the Kurtzman era in general.

[allsadnshit]

please disregard this if it's invasive or unwelcome in any way, but do you have crohn's disease? i ask because i'm newly diagnosed and very scared, both for my future and of the treatments that are common for it. are you afraid it's going to progress, without western treatment? or have the treatments you've used helped more than any of those? my doctors have told me that it will get worse without treatment but treatment also seems to leave me very open to even worse things down the road :/

I don't have a crohn's disease diagnosis nor has any medical professional suggested I be evaluated for it but I have definitely looked into it given the symptoms I have that align with it.

I personally am a believer of "third options" or the idea that if you're between a rock and a hard place that instead of feeling forced to choose we can be open to something we haven't thought of or seen yet. I know when you're scared stuff like that feels impractical or even insensitive to the severity of your situation, but for myself I think I end up there no matter if I struggle against it or not.

When I got my endometriosis diagnosis they told me my genuine only options for getting better were hormone therapy or continuous surgeries even though I had already just had one and wasn't sure if it was going to make a difference to my daily pain yet (it didn't).

I don't think any medical professional should be telling you you're out of options if you don't feel good about anything being suggested and I'd advise seeking help elsewhere if you don't feel supported and your doctors are not committing to the process with you and finding a solution that works for you.

I knew I wasn't interested in having my uterus taken out, birth control, hormones, or surgery even though I was told those were my options and although I am not 100% better now going the "holistic" approach, neither are the people I know who have followed their doctors orders so I think it's an uphill battle no matter what and what's important is you fighting that fight in the way that makes sense to you.

Many cultures outside of the American medical system have found all sorts of remedies in the natural world for illness that have since been dismissed or not even given the funding or attention to be seen through and I think that's a direct result of racism and the idea that "modern medicine" is based in science while anything that came before it or exists outside of it is NOT science, when it ultimately still is even if it doesn't follow the exact same procedures. I think it's important to look into alternative medicines even if you decide to go with what is prescribed by your current healthcare providers and keep an open mind that our society destroys and dismisses a lot of valuable history and knowledge based on a hatred for cultures and societies outside of our own which was so largely founded on the idea that not all people and bodies deserve the same autonomy or rights.

I suggest looking into how the research is conducted for the options being given to you if you feel uncomfortable with your current knowledge of them: is it on a wide array of people from different sexes, racial backgrounds, ages? Or just one type (usually white cisgendered middle aged men) and consider that in your decisions making! The world has more to offer than what is on Webmd and at hospitals that wouldn't treat you without health insurance and if you're getting a chronic illness diagnosis it's especially important for you to be in that conversation.

[hellomindvibes]

Emotional Numbness: The Silent Symptom of Overwhelm

Feeling nothing is often scarier than feeling bad.

We all know the signs of anxiety—racing thoughts, heart pounding, a knot in your stomach. Depression can be just as recognizable, with its weight of sadness and hopelessness. But what about when you feel... nothing? Emotional numbness is often the silent symptom of being overwhelmed, and it’s more common than you think.

This numbness sneaks up on you, often overlooked because it’s not as obvious or dramatic as anxiety or depression. Yet, it can be just as harmful. The constant grind of life’s pressures—work, relationships, expectations—can push us to a point where our emotions simply shut down. It’s a way of coping, but it’s also a dangerous signal that something is deeply wrong.

Numbness as a Response to Overwhelm

We live in a society that values busyness, productivity, and pushing through. We’re told that to be successful, we need to grind harder, hustle faster, and stay on top of everything. But when life becomes too overwhelming, sometimes our minds and bodies react by hitting the “off” switch on emotions.

Emotional numbness often presents itself as feeling disconnected from your own life—like you’re watching everything from the outside. You may not feel sad, but you don’t feel happy either. Joy, excitement, even anger—everything feels distant, like you’re going through the motions without really being present.

It’s a survival mechanism, but it comes at a cost. Emotional numbness dulls not just the bad feelings but also the good ones. It keeps you from experiencing the full range of human emotions, leaving you feeling stuck, hollow, and detached from yourself and the world around you.

The Lie of Emotional Suppression

Society tends to reward emotional suppression and package it as “strength.” We’re taught to “keep calm and carry on,” to shove our feelings aside in favor of staying focused on the tasks at hand. Emotional suppression is often seen as resilience—being able to get through life without letting things affect you too much. But is that really strength?

Suppressing emotions might get you through the day, but over time, it leads to burnout, exhaustion, and, yes, emotional numbness. Instead of dealing with what’s really going on inside, we disconnect, thinking that if we just push it all down, we’ll be able to function better. The truth is, by avoiding our feelings, we’re just delaying the inevitable emotional crash.

Recognizing Emotional Numbness

The tricky thing about emotional numbness is that it’s hard to recognize. It doesn’t shout at you like anxiety or drag you down like depression. Instead, it quietly slips in, making everything feel flat and muted. You might notice it when the things that used to bring you joy no longer have the same effect. Or when you feel like you’re just existing rather than living.

Here are some common signs of emotional numbness:

Feeling disconnected or detached from your surroundings or the people around you.

A lack of interest or enthusiasm in activities you once enjoyed.

Inability to feel excitement, happiness, or even sadness.

Difficulty identifying or expressing emotions.

Going through the motions without feeling present or engaged.

If any of these resonate with you, it’s time to take a closer look at what’s going on beneath the surface.

Reconnecting with Your Emotions

Emotional numbness doesn’t mean you’re broken—it’s a sign that you’re overwhelmed and need to take steps to reconnect with your emotions. Here are some practical ways to start feeling again:

1. Journaling

Writing down your thoughts and feelings can be a powerful way to reconnect with your emotions. Even if you don’t know what to write at first, start by describing your day or how you’re feeling physically. Often, the act of writing can help unlock emotions that have been buried beneath the surface.

2. Therapy

Speaking with a therapist can help you uncover the root causes of emotional numbness and provide guidance on how to process your feelings in a healthy way. Therapy offers a safe space to explore your emotions without judgment, helping you gain clarity and understanding.

3. Art and Creative Expression

Sometimes words aren’t enough. Engaging in creative activities like drawing, painting, or even dancing can help you express emotions that are difficult to articulate. Art has a way of tapping into parts of ourselves that we often suppress, making it an excellent tool for emotional reconnection.

4. Mindfulness and Meditation

Mindfulness practices can help you tune back into your body and emotions. Take a few moments each day to sit quietly and check in with how you’re feeling—both physically and emotionally. Learning to be present with yourself can help break the cycle of numbness.

5. Physical Movement

Exercise and movement can also help release pent-up emotions. Whether it’s going for a run, practicing yoga, or simply stretching, moving your body can reconnect you with sensations and feelings you may have been suppressing.

Hellofeels: Breaking the Silence on Emotional Numbness

At Hellofeels, we understand the pressure to appear “strong” by suppressing your emotions. But we also know that true strength comes from owning your feelings—whether they’re messy, complicated, or hard to understand.

Hellofeels is here to break the silence on these less-discussed mental health struggles like emotional numbness. Our expressive apparel is designed to help you own your real feelings, no matter what they are. Through relatable designs that spark real conversations, we aim to create a community where emotions—both good and bad—are accepted and embraced.

Wearing Hellofeels isn’t just about making a statement; it’s about recognizing that emotional numbness is real, valid, and something that can be addressed. Our apparel gives you the freedom to express those feelings, to wear your emotions on your sleeve—literally—and to remind yourself and others that you don’t have to hide what you’re going through.

Emotional numbness may be silent, but it’s a symptom that needs attention. By recognizing it and taking steps to reconnect with your emotions, you can begin to heal from the overwhelm. Hellofeels is here to remind you that your feelings matter, and you don’t have to face them alone. Let’s start talking about the hard stuff—together.

[kyndaris]

Whole Again - Part 1

This short story is a sequel to one I wrote a couple of years back. called Splintered. During that time, I was struggling with a lot of things including the fact I never truly presented my whole self to others but only certain facets.

I've come to realise, however, that just because I don't bring my whole self into a conversation doesn't mean it's a fake personality I've conjured. It is still me.

There is a time and place for everything.

While not everyone may appreciate Chaos Gremlin Kyndaris, maybe some others will. Then again, there is Work Kyndaris and Eager Gamer Kyndaris. Dutiful Daughter Kyndaris and Exhausted Caregiver Kyndaris.

Humans are multifaceted. In this day and age where we try and label everything, is it any wonder so many are trying to seek their 'true selves' only to stumble because they've not realised the whole of who they are is a complex contradictory mess?

So many things have been relegated to black and white, it's become impossible to see the nuance of who people are.

With that, I hope you enjoy this first part of my short story: Whole Again.

Life as I knew it changed when I graduated from Seven Oak High. At college, there was a whole new host of challenges I needed to weave my way through and I realised the old masks I’d worn to get me through high school were no longer fit for purpose.

Gone was mean-girl queen-bee Trish. Her actions and behaviour wouldn’t have worked under the watchful eye of the sorority den mother in charge of my dormitory.

Pat, on the other hand, stepped up to fill the void. But instead of being the meek and dutiful student and daughter, she had taken on several more facets of who I was. There was a new spring to her step. A confidence that exuded from putting my hand up for several campus causes.

Suddenly, everything was all new and fresh again and I had to adapt once more.

From the remains of Pat and Trish emerged Patsy.

No longer was I a leader so much as another cog in the fight against oppression and the patriarchy. All the energy I poured into becoming Queen Bee was now put into healthier pursuits as I railed against a slew of social injustices.

And yet a part of me still missed hanging out with my friends, Naomi and Evangeline (although they both ended up going to different universities than me), I was still a version of Trish. But this time I could let my guard down a little. Show off a little bit of the real ‘me’ lurking beneath the mask I had worn.

They deserved it, after all. Especially after the pain and terror we had all endured at the hands of Amelia last year.

After all, if it hadn’t been for the Evangeline and her boyfriend, Michael Sanchez, there was every chance I might not be standing here at all.

And thus, Tricia was born to serve as a dorkier and less catty version of Trish. Tricia was about having fun, with a focus on nostalgia.

Was it what Amelia had wanted for me? No. But given that she was in a juvenile detention centre and mandated to see a court-appointed psychiatrist every week to deal with whatever was wrong with her, I doubted her opinion mattered much.

Not that she put much stock in therapy.

In her mind, she was the least crazy of us all. Rather, it was the entire world that was mad as we catered to society’s expectations of who and what we were. Better, she had told me while holding a knife, to be our truest and authentic selves. Whatever that meant.

The first time I’d visited her at the detention centre, she hadn’t seemed surprised when she came out. Rather, there had been a knowing smile on her face as she sat down. We stared at each other for a few minutes.

But as I struggled to find the words I wanted to say, Amelia motioned to her guard and whispered something into their ear. Before I could stop her, she had risen to her feet and left.

I was left sitting at the table, alone. And for the longest time, I didn’t know if I wanted to leave or stay. Hell, I didn’t know why I’d come to see her in the first place.

Maybe I wanted closure. Or maybe I wanted to see the person still haunting me in my nightmares and know she couldn’t hurt me anymore.

Whatever the reason, I was left with a roiling churning maelstrom of emotions in my gut. None of which I could decipher.

In the end, one of the guards had to escort me out.

Still, despite that, I came to visit her again. And again. And again.

Amelia was a mystery. One I wanted to solve.

From all accounts, before the incident at her old school, she had been just like me. Except, perhaps, more outstanding. She was smart, athletic and didn’t shy away from the arts either. She was a triple-threat student.

But something had happened in the summer of 2018. One that had seen her thrown out of her prestigious school and enrol at Seven Oaks High instead. The word on the street was it was an altercation with another student though the details were hazy.

What kept me up most nights was the fear I might turn into her. Or a version of her.

The fear and anger and hurt I’d repressed all throughout middle school and high school had coalesced into something frightening. I wouldn’t call it a personality exactly. Nor was it a facet of who I was. Not really.

Just an impulse. A voice in my head wishing ill on others or asking me to do something cruel and mean and demeaning.

It sometimes came out as Trish, but only if I ever felt threatened.

Trish, as a mask I wore, was created from an amalgamation of mean girls from teen movies. The stereotypical queen bee who often got their comeuppance by the end of the film. She was meant to be all bark and no bite. A harmless stereotype most people forgot because it wasn’t who I really was and nobody at Seven Oaks High really cared much for.

Except, of course, Amelia had brought out a side of me that was petty and jealous and actually hurtful because I couldn’t stand how effortlessly she made friends with any and all cliches. There was no artifice to her.

She was everything I wanted to be but couldn’t.

And that was why I hated her.

Or I would have if, by the third time I’d visited her, the façade she had of being above it all hadn’t begun to slip. Behind all the bravado she had projected during my first visit, Amelia was scared.

She knew she had done something wrong but she hadn’t quite grasped the extent of her actions.

Still, even though I could be more ‘myself’ when I was with Evangeline and Naomi, it was with Amelia I could truly be the entirety of Patricia.

“So, tell me about college. What are you studying? Doing anything fun?”

“There’s not much to tell. Just a lot of courses and assignments and projects. I’ve signed up to help protest sexual harassment on campus and I’ve joined two clubs, one’s acapella and the other is about climate change.”

“How typical of the overachiever.”

“You’re one to talk,” I scoffed. “How are things in here?”

“Same old, same old. Although, there was this other girl that was giving me the side eye last week. Said I’d taken her towel.”

“Did you?”

“Well, yes. I did. But she wouldn’t have known that. I returned it, cleaned and everything. She should have been thanking me. Her towel was filthy.”

“That’s not the point, Amelia.”

“Oh, then what is, Patricia? Should I have done the socially acceptable thing of pointing out her towel was filthy and she needed to wash it?”

“No, but—”

“Fine. Next time I’ll play nice and not say a thing. Wait until they notice how disgusting they truly are.”

“Amelia…you know what? Forget it. This isn’t why I came to visit you.”

“You sure you don’t want me to regale you all about juvie life, Patricia? You come here so often, one would think it’s the sole reason you come and see me here. Or do you relish seeing me behind bars?”

I rose to my feet. There was no sense in talking to Amelia when she was being contrary.

“It was good to see you, Amelia. I’ll see you next time, yeah?”

“Leaving so soon? Was it something I said?”

“Amelia, I don’t have time to play these games. Not today. I’ve three assignments to get through and I’m helping out at a fundraiser tomorrow.”

Something shifted in Amelia’s face.

A flash of fear or disdain or something else, I couldn’t tell. She opened her mouth, perhaps to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, I felt the weight of her gaze on the back of my head as I left the correction facility.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she had known the lie on my lips.

~

It was a struggle to remain awake as the professor droned on about the basics of supply and demand. Head propped on fist, I stifled a yawn and looked over at Sonia, who seemed enraptured by the subject matter, as she scribbled down notes. Sonia and I were roommates and shared three classes. We’d become fast friends, bonding over a shared love for the online game Honkai: Star Rail.

While Sonia was an avid gamer, I’d been drawn to the space-themed fantasy role playing game because of the artwork. And the fact many of my online friends had been effusive about both Star Rail and its predecessor, Genshin Impact. It had been easy to get into. And almost impossible to get out of.

Amelia might have said I’d been trapped. But it didn’t feel like that for me.

The world of Honkai: Star Rail was one I loved. Especially when coupled with the awesome characters found therein.

It was freeing in so many ways.

In a world of pretend, I could be whoever I wanted behind the username I used.

But Honkai also had its hooks in me simply as a fan of the series. Without even meaning to, I’d bought a plushie of one of my favourites when I’d spied them in a store. It now sat on my bed, next to my pillow. A guilty pleasure I allowed myself because I knew Sonia wouldn’t tell.

“Patsy, you look like you haven’t been paying attention,” said the professor, looking right at me. I flushed and desperately looked around, hoping there was another Patsy or Patricia in class he was referring to. But the professor merely shook his head as he pointed to me. “Come, come. This isn’t anything hard. And I’m not trying to single you out. But since you were caught daydreaming, I’ll need to make an example of you. Who knows, if you did the readings I’d set last week, this shouldn’t be too hard either. So, tell me, what is the umbrella term for the various macroeconomic theories and models of how aggregate demand influences economic output and inflation?”

I scrambled for an answer; racked my brain for anything I could offer.

This was something I knew because I had read the readings from last week. Yet, being put on the spot like this, all I wanted to do was fade into the seat underneath me. Vanish into the great unknown.

Sonia leaned in. “—nesian—” she whispered to me.

What? There wasn’t an economist named Nesian to the best of my knowledge. Had I missed something?

For a moment, I blinked dumbly at Sonia then turned back to the professor.

God. Why was this so hard? Think Patricia, think!

“Um, Keynesian?”

The professor let out a sigh. “Yes. That’s right. Sonia, next time, I’d appreciate it if you let Patsy answer on her own, hm?”

Sonia sank in her seat, the tips of her ears burning red. The professor waited a moment before turning back to the blackboard and resuming his presentation.

As I listened to his speech, I wrote a quick note in the top left corner of my notebook, ripped it off and slipped it over to Sonia. She barely glanced at it, still traumatised for being caught out by her favourite professor, before pushing it back in my direction, an apologetic look in her eyes.

Shit. My brief lapse in concentration had cost Sonia everything she cared about. I’d have to make it up for her.

Right after I helped the Climate Change Committee with their placard signs, printed off posters for the ‘Sexual Harassment on Campus’ rally and a bajillion other projects Patsy had signed herself up to. Patsy, of course, was a real believer in human rights and social causes. She also kissed up hard to the professors when it came to her studies. When it came to friends, though, Patsy sometimes did let them down.

But she was the mask Sonia knew best. With a side serving of gamer chic.

Still, it was no excuse. I’d find a way to properly express my remorse before next Friday night. Which, of course, was when Tricia had scheduled a late-night karaoke session with Naomi and Evangeline to catch-up on all the hot goss around town. And to also let my hair down after a gruelling two weeks of assignments.

The queen bee of Seven Oaks High still needed to partay!

Still, all of this juggling between masks was exhausting.

There were days when I wished I didn’t have to pretend to be something I wasn’t. Or, at the very least, hide away parts of me that didn’t fit with the image people had of me.

And it made me want to explode.

Despite my attempts to quieten the voices, they seemed only to get louder and louder and louder with each passing day.

I wondered what might happen if I kept trying to shove my round self into a square hole. Wondering if it would last.

Movies and social media had forced us all into one pigeonhole or another. Popular girls were stereotyped as mean. The protagonist was always the ugly duckling who was actually beautiful once she underwent a makeover.

But the whole of who I was couldn’t be contained in one label.

Could it?

I was pulled from my thoughts as the hour ran out and the professor dismissed the class. Gathering my belongings, I was right behind Sonia when a voice called out to me.

“Patsy, could you stay behind for a minute, please? There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

I froze. Sonia looked back at me, a look of concern on her face.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you back in the dorm.”

Frowning, Sonia gave a nod of her head before she headed down the corridor and vanished around the corner. I turned back to face the professor, steeling myself for the reprimand that was sure to come when the last of the students trickled out.

But it never came.

“Sir?”

Professor Langley heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through his thinning brown hair. He flashed me a weary smile. “Patsy, this isn’t easy for me to say but I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

“Is it about my studies? Because I can do extra credit or—” I started, scrambling to figure out what it was I had done wrong.

“Oh, no. Patsy. It’s nothing academic. Which is why I struggled with bringing this to your attention.”

“Okay?”

“Patsy, do you happen to know a girl called Amelia Cardum?” asked the professor, a sheepish look on his face.

A cold shiver went down my spine at the mention of Amelia’s name s I stared up at Professor Langley, wide-eyed with horror.

How much did he know? Was he somehow related to Amelia? While newspapers weren’t forbidden from printing names, the journalists had kept it lowkey. Even when it came to reporting the trial, no-one had been identified and I’d appeared only via teleconference.

The professor couldn’t have known of my connection to Amelia. Could he?

“Judging by your gaping mouth, I assume I’ve hit the nail on the head with that assumption. Listen, Pasty, you’re not in any trouble. It just so happens, though, that Amelia attended my cousin’s high school.”

What Professor Langley said next was forgotten as my mind scrambled for a way to escape. To sink into the ground. To defenestrate myself. Or combust into flames.

His next few works caught me off-guard.

“—my cousin with nary but a slap on the wrist. The fact you were almost killed—”

“Sorry. What?”

Professor Langley stopped and searched my face for something. “This was a mistake. I apologise for overstepping. Forget I said—”

“No,” I said, grabbing hold of his arm. “It’s just, when you mentioned Amelia, I didn’t know what to think. I was scared you were going to judge me for something out of my control. It’s…still a touchy subject.”

“That’s understandable, Patsy,” said the professor, nodding emphatically. He leaned in towards me. “My cousin is still very much shaken after what happened to her. But I’m sure your experience was much more harrowing. It’s just…well, I’ve heard Amelia has a parole hearing later this month. And I would appreciate if you could be there, say a few words. She might have been a minor at the time but there’s something wrong with the girl. She’s evil incarnate. And she can’t simply get away with this anymore. Don’t you agree?”

  It took me a moment to grasp the implications behind his words.

But while I knew where he was coming from, I couldn’t agree. There was a part of me that pitied Amelia. Who still saw a part of myself reflected in her.

She might be troubled and out of touch with reality, but she was also the person who had seen into my very soul. A dark reflection of who I could be if I made the wrong choices.

“I…can I think on it, professor? This isn’t something I can decide on right now.”

Professor Langley straightened. “Of course. This is a hard ask, I know. My cousin was also reluctant to step forward too.”

“Would it suit to give you a reply next week?”

“Yes, of course. There’s no pressure. None at all. But, Patsy, I’m glad we had this talk. Amelia is a monster who destroys everything she touches. And my family—” Professor Langley stopped, something almost like sorrow darting across his features.

“I know,” I said, flashing him a weak smile.

He returned it in kind. After a beat of silence, I headed towards the door.

As I slipped out, I glanced over my shoulder and caught a parting glimpse of Professor Langley, slumped in a chair near to the lectern, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

Not for the first time, I wondered if I had done the right thing when it came to Amelia.

~

“What’s on your mind, Patricia? You’re unusually quiet today.”

I blinked up at Amelia, seated across from me. The only thing between us was a sheet of protective glass.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about my mother. And then all this additional work I have to do.”

Amelia was silent for a few seconds as she looked me in the eye. “Don’t bullshit me, Patsy. Spill it. What’s really going on.”

Fuck. I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to trick her.

Fine. If she wanted to play this game, I’d give it as good as I got. “Okay. You got me. Why didn’t you tell me about the parole hearing?”

The question seemed to catch Amelia by surprise as she raised her eyebrows. “Where did you hear that, Patsy? Were you sticking your nose in things that didn’t concern you again.”

“You’re evading, Amelia.”

“No,” said Amelia, slapping an open palm on the protective glass. “I just want to know the little snitch who told you I was going up for parole.”

“And lose out on my ear to the inside?” I said. “Hell no. You’re not the only one who gets to hold all the cards here.” Did she know I was lying through my teeth?

Amelia slammed the receiver down and stood to her feet. She stayed that way for a good few moments before she sat back down and picked up the receiver again. “Well, if you really want to know, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I’d get out. Fact of the matter is, I did something bad according to the unenlightened folks in charge and, if it was in their power, they’d keep me here until the day I died. Not that I’m complaining. I get free food, a bed and some people to help get through their childhood trauma and open up their eyes to the truth.”

“You’re evading again.”

“No. I’m not.”

Silence stretched between us as I plucked up the courage the one thing I’d wanted to ask ever since I’d got to the correction facility earlier in the day. “But, if given the choice, would you want to leave Amelia?”

She snorted. “Of course,” she answered with barely a pause. “None of the people in here get me. They posit theories of what’s wrong with me, never knowing that there’s nothing wrong with me. My mind is whole and I know who I am. The more pressing question is how well each of these psychiatrists know themselves or the work they do. I often wonder if even a single one of them knows what the DSM-5 is.”

“What’s a DSM-5?”

Amelia looked at me as if I’d grown a second head.

“What? I really don’t know. It’s not as if I’m studying psychology,” I said defensively.

“But you’re thinking on taking on a science major, aren’t you?” asked Amelia, arching one eyebrow.

“Yeah. Like microbiology or chemistry. Human behaviour follows certain patterns, true, but there are always exceptions. At least with hard science, you know everything will follow the rules. And if it doesn’t, there’s an explanation. A new rule to be discovered. But humans? They’re too contrary. They make up their own rules.”

“Do you really believe that, Patricia?”

I hoped my pointed stare would be enough. Out of all the people I knew, she was the one exception. I’d never seen anyone be able to belong to every single group in high school and none at all. More than that, Amelia seemed to stand above us mere mortals. As if she was another race entirely.

Her mind was a labyrinthine mystery, simple and complex in equal measure.

There were some days when I felt almost a kinship to Amelia. Where I felt I could understand the alien creature before me. Then there were days where Amelia felt completely and utterly unknowable.

Nevertheless, I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t quite understand. There was a part of me her words spoke to. A part of me that scared the living daylights out of the other personas I’d carefully curated over the years because it fed off the chaos.

And it was this part of me I swore to keep squashed down for I feared where it would lead me.

“Yes, Amelia. I do,” I said finally.

My answer was met with silence. When it became almost unbearable, I rose to my feet.

“Anyways, I’d better go. It’s been a long day and I’ve a lot on my mind.”

As I was about to put down the receiver, Amelia tapped the window to gain my attention and mimicked holding a phone. I put the receiver back against my ear. Her voice came through, sounding almost strained through the connection.

“Patsy. If you’re thinking of attending the parole hearing, let me give you some advice: Don’t.”

~

Lying on my bed at home, I stared up at the ceiling. It was easier to stay at home than go back to the dormitory when I visited Amelia at the juvenile detention centre. Besides, it was the weekend. And Sonia was off catching up with a friend from Minnesota who had come to visit.

What had Amelia meant?

Did she fear I would finally see sense and refuse to visit her? Afraid the words of others would finally sway me to see the light?

But given she had tried to kill me during our final year at Seven Oaks High, I doubted there was much that could be said to persuade me she was a danger. I already knew she was. And yet I still came back.

There was just something about Amelia that I couldn’t quite shake. No matter how many times I promised myself I would stop.

Beside me, my phone buzzed with a message. I picked it up, watching as it unlocked by scanning my face and opening to the last thing I’d been looking at. The DSM-5. Or The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Supposedly, it was the be-all and end-all when it came to diagnosing ailment a person might be suffering from when it came to mental illness.

While it was still a hefty tome, sitting at over 900 pages, it still boggled my mind that the entirety of the human mind and experience could be distilled into it.

It just didn’t seem right. Or possible.

My phone pinged again, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced up towards the notification.

Naomi: herd u in town? Evie wants 2 go out. U good for 7?

The offer was tempting. A chance to let my hair down after that talk with Amelia?

Yes, please.

And if I could get away with a little underage drinking, why shouldn’t I? Having to deal with Amelia would give any sane person a headache at the best of times. A part of me wondered if she did it only to seem complex and above the petty concerns of us mere mortals.

In any case, it was something I didn’t want to deal with right now. Especially given what Professor Langley had said earlier in the week.

Maybe it was something I could raise with Naomi and Evangeline? Surprisingly, the two of them could be quite prescient when needed.

I clicked open my messages and sent through a confirmation. Naomi’s reply came but a second later.

                Naomi: k, will come pick u up at 6. c u soon. xoxo

Smiling, I rose from my bed. I only had a few hours to get ready.

~

“Patsy, a word, if you would?”

Sonia quirked an eyebrow at me as she hovered near the exit, wondering if she ought to go ahead to her next lesson or wait up for me.

“I’ll be fine,” I mouthed at her. She nodded hesitantly before heading off. As the rest of the class petered out, I joined Professor Langley at his desk, waiting with my hands behind my back.

“So, have you given some thought to what I asked you last week?” he asked, barely looking up from the papers he was grading.

“I did.”

“And?”

“Um…I’m still not sure,” I answered. “I don’t really want to be involved in all this. And after…everything, I don’t want to relive it all at the parole hearing. The trial at the end of my year in high school was already terrible.”

At this, Professor Langley looked up sharply. Moments passed in heavy silence as he scrutinised my face with his piercing blue eyes. Finally, he put down his pen.

“I completely understand where you’re coming from, Patsy,” said Professor Langley. “My cousin, after all, was also reluctant at first.”

“Then—”

“Listen, Patsy, why don’t you take a seat.” Professor Langley gestured to the chair in front of his desk. As soon as I sat down, he continued, “The thing about Amelia is that she gets into your head. She got into my cousin’s head. Made her start wondering if any of this was real or not. And my cousin, well, she went down a very dark path until me and her parents were able to pull her back out again.”

“I’m so sorry—"

“No, Patsy. There’s nothing you need be sorry about. This is all Amelia’s doing. And take it from me, I just want to keep you safe. So, if you feel like you can’t attend the parole hearing, I completely understand. But if you could find it within yourself to maybe write a victim impact statement, I can help. It’s just…I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, you know?”

“No. Of course not. I understand.”

“Good. Good,” said Professor Langley. “Well, I suppose that’s it, then?” He rose to his feet and stuck out his hand out for me to shake.

I took it.

“See you next class, Patsy. And, um, if you ever want to talk about anything, just reach out.”

“Yes, of course.”

The silence hung between us for another awkward beat or two before I grabbed my things and hurried for the door. Thankfully, I didn’t have class immediately after or I would have been a good thirty or so minutes late.

Instead, I headed back to my dormitory, thoughts awhirl with what had just transpired with Professor Langley. As I entered my rooms, I was greeted by Sonia.

She jumped up from her bed as soon as the door creaked open.

“Patricia! I got so worried about what Langley wanted with you, I thought I’d wait for you here.”

“What about your next class?”

Sonia shrugged. “It’s not so important I can’t take some time out for a friend,” she said with a smile as she patted the bed next to her.

I sat down beside her, unsure of how much to tell her or if I should. Maybe if I came up with a lie about why Professor Langley wanted to talk to me? But what would work without it seeming like I was up to no good?

There were rumours already on campus that a few students were sleeping with their professors to get good grades. I didn’t want to be another statistic. Especially given how hard I worked to eke out my place here at college.

As I opened my mouth to speak, even as I was still figuring out what I wanted to say, Sonia cut me off. “I just want you to know that I’m here, Patrica. For anything and everything. Whenever you feel ready.”

“I…thank you, Sonia. It means a lot.”

Sonia nodded. “Well, it better.” Before I knew it, she’d caught me in an embrace.

For one brief instant, I felt completely and utterly seen. Sonia had been there for me through thick and thin since the start of college. To her, I was simply her roommate. More than that, I was a person with all the flaws and strengths such a thing entailed.

Even if it was the Patsy persona I’d carefully.

But it was enough. Right?

Patsy was enough. Right?

Before I could put a rein on my emotions, I could feel myself beginning to hyperventilate.

Sonia held onto me tighter but it only served to make me feel claustrophobic. Before I could break out into tears, I pushed her away. “Sorry. I just need a moment to breathe,” I said, dabbing at the wetness at the corner of my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

I mustered up a fake smile as I rose to my feet. “Yes. Sorry. You just took me by surprise and then the whole thing with Professor Langley earlier, I guess I’m just a little bit emotional. But thank you, Sonia. For being here for me.”

Sonia smiled up at me. “Always, Patricia. Always.”

~

I was one of the last to slip into the court along with a journalist from the local paper. Thankfully, neither Professor Langley or Amelia noticed as I took in the seat in the back and whipped off my sunglasses. Professor Langley I understood as he whispered fervently to a woman about my age. His cousin, perhaps?

But Amelia? Usually, she was so sharp. Or maybe that was how she wanted others to perceive her. As the smartest person in any given room.

Here, though?

Despite her attempts to try and look strong, Amelia looked nothing more than a little lost girl who was finally out of her depth. As the judge took his seat and brought the court to order, Amelia looked only at her lawyer and her face a little wan. There was no-one else she could rely on, after all.

None of her family had chosen to attend.

Much like when the case had first gone to trial. And according to Amelia, not a single one of them had come to visit her while she was being held in juvenile detention. Not her mom. Not her dad. Not even her younger sister who Amelia said she was closest with.

The hearing dragged on as the judge made a show of going through the documents that had been submitted.

As always, Amelia’s expression was inscrutable. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking as reports of her poor behaviour whilst held in detention were read out.

One story stood out to me.

In a dispassionate voice, the judge outlined an incident where Amelia had stolen a fellow inmate’s towel. But while Amelia had blown it off as an anecdotal event, here, the full story was told.

Amelia had taken the towel the day after an altercation between the inmate in the prison cafeteria. The guards had witnessed Amelia calling the other girl several crass insults including a ‘slut-whore pig who needed to be taught manners.’ And while Amelia had returned the towel, it had been under threat of solitary confinement. The towel, in question, had been returned as torn pieces and stained with a foul-smelling liquid.

Then there were the psychiatry sessions where Amelia either proved bullish, refusing to engage with the therapist, or broke down sobbing in the room as a manipulation tactic to garner sympathy.

Listening to it all, I couldn’t help but feel sick.

When she had tried to kill me during the end of senior year, she had said the two of us were alike and that the only thing holding me back was my inability to be authentically my ‘true’ self. But I had to wonder if any of her words held any truth to it.

This woman before me: did she even know who she was or what she really wanted?

And as I watched her performance up in the dock – for it was a performance – I came to realise the complicated weave Amelia had created to hide away her true self. Everything I knew, from the talks we shared to the person she presented during her time at Seven Oaks High had all been an act.

And she, like every good liar, had even managed to convince herself that this was who she was.

For so long, she had pushed me to embrace who I really was. Yet, all the fucking time, she’d been putting up a front to pretend she was a puzzle box waiting to be solved instead of the broken and lonely girl that she truly was.

It made me angry.

But it also made me sick to my stomach.

I’d been as like a puppet to her, dancing always to the tune she played.

She had wanted to keep me confused. To always be second-guessing myself. And to see her as the only one with all the answers when instead, it had all been fucking bullshit!

What made it all the worse was the fact I’d fucking let her.

As one of her solicitors raised an objection, I sharply rose to my feet. A few heads turned in my direction but I only had eyes on Amelia as I made my way past the journalists and exited the courtroom. Fuming with indignation.

~

It was an old photo sometime between Amelia’s sixth and ninth birthday. She was hiding behind a lamppost Her hair was long and lanky, and the clothes she wore were tacky at best. In the foreground, her parents and sister were posed for the camera in Halloween costumes.

Although I had performed a cursory search online on Amelia back when she had first attended Seven Oaks High, I’d mostly been focused on why she had chosen to attend Seven Oaks High.

After the trial, I’d been tempted to uncover more of Amelia’s secrets online but had worried I would only find details of her attempt on my life. Or see my name featured in some news article.

In school, there had been several unsavoury rumours I’d overheard in the cafeteria. Back then, I’d dismissed them. Especially because I hadn’t been able to find much of anything when I did a cursory online.

But some had whispered Amelia’s expulsion had been a lover’s tryst gone wrong. Others had said I was the one who had tried to kill Amelia instead.

And if those were the rumours in school, I feared the misinformation that would have spread online.

But after scouring the internet and searching through any and all social media accounts for one Amelia Cardum, I finally stumbled upon an Instagram account for a Belinda Cardum nee Gains. Investigating further, I also uncovered her LinkedIn and Facebook profiles.

Lo and behold! A photo from the distant past with Amelia lurking in the shadows and watching on with envy.

I don’t know what it said about her as a person.

Maybe she was simply the jealous sort and hated how she wasn’t the centre of attention. Or perhaps, when the photo was taken, she had simply suffered a bad day and she was throwing a tantrum.

It was more telling that this was the only photo of Amelia I’d managed to find despite endless hours scouring social media. Despite being friends with her mother on Facebook, she was never tagged on any posts. Her profile picture, as well, was a default image from the old Microsoft Windows user account pictures.

But that was little to go on considering she kept everything private.

Clicking back to her mother’s profile, all the photos I could find were either related to food or of Rose, Amelia’s younger sister. The most recent photo, posted just last week, was of Rose. She’d won a medal from a swimming competition for under 16s.

I leaned back in my chair.

Who was Amelia really?

Despite all the time I’d spent with her, I still knew so little about who she was. There were too many contradictions. She was both charmingly naïve and a vindictive sadist. Intelligent and yet also out of her depth.

There were just so many layers.

How did one go about unravelling it all?

Or perhaps, none of it was an act. All of it is Amelia at her core. Unstable though it may be, whispered a dark voice in my head. And true, that too was also a possibility.

I had a feeling Amelia was a girl at the end of her rope. She knew she had done something terrible. But whether or not it had sunk in properly was still up in the air.

It explained why she seemed so standoffish when I asked her about the hearing. In her head, perhaps, Amelia felt she had been in the right. Most people did.

And though I was loathe to admit it, I was a bitch in high school. I’d been so utterly jealous of Amelia. So consumed with the thought of destroying the perfect image she had of being able to so smoothly navigate the various cliches with ease. It was something I wished I’d been able to do even as I clung to my status as Queen Bee with Evangeline and Naomi hanging onto me as the vapid sycophants of my posse.

Heck, I didn’t even know why I’d gravitated towards them in freshman year.

Naomi wasn’t very popular. She was pretty but could be casually cruel without meaning to. And every boy within a five-mile radius wanted to bang her.

There had been an altercation in the cafeteria where one of the other students confronted Naomi about sleeping with her boyfriend. I’d stepped in before it had come to blows. Looking at Naomi’s wide-eyed wonder, I couldn’t help taking her under my wing.

Evangeline, on the other hand, was a mess. She wanted to look like the models in Playboy magazines and was always looking up beauty gurus on Tiktok or YouTube. Unfortunately for her, she had two buck teeth and parents who couldn’t afford to have it fixed.

Over the years, though, she made it work for her.

And the three of us came to dominate Seven Oaks High during our four years there.

As I very much learned, being Queen Bee was all about projecting confidence and manifesting one’s own popularity. Anyone could do it with the right mindset.

For me, that came in the form of Trish. I’d moulded her from every single resource I could find because I couldn’t face another four years of being teased for all the things I actually liked and cared about. When I was Trish, everything else was suppressed. She was my mask. And my protector.

Without her, I doubt I would have survived.

More importantly, though, through Trish, I learned of another part that comprised me as a whole. I learned that I did like hanging out with Naomi and Evangeline even though they weren’t the brightest people around. I learned I didn’t always have to be the straight-A perfect student I thought my parents wanted me to be.

And I learned it was okay to let myself have fun.

It was something the old Patricia – the one who had become Pat – would never have allowed. Or thought possible.

Amelia, though, would have probably said it was all ‘fake’ and I needed to strip it all down until I was the raw unvarnished version of me. But what Amelia didn’t understand was that this wasn’t the entirety of who I was either. It wouldn’t be the whole me either.

My time at college had also shown how people could change.

By trying new things and going through our lives, we grew. No longer was I insecure about who I was. I could be freer to be closer to my true self with Naomi, Evangeline and even Sonia.

But Amelia wasn’t me. And I wasn’t her.

She had thought she had found a kindred spirit, but I was more than the clone she was trying to make me into.

I shut off the browser, sicked to my stomach that I’d wasted so many hours trying to research Amelia to figure out who she was. Once more, I’d played right into her hands. This was what she wanted me to do. Professor Langley, too, could forget about asking me to provide a victim impact statement.

The last thing I wanted to do was dwell on Amelia Cardum for a moment longer.

I had a life to live.

~

“Patsy, I would like a word,” said Professor Langley as I was packing away my belongings.

“I actually have something on afterwards, sir. Could this not be an email?”

“This won’t take long,” replied Professor Langley, shutting down any further protest.

I exchanged a look with Sonia. ‘What do you think he wants?’ she mouthed at me. I shrugged. After my decision to cut Amelia Cardum out of my life, I’d tried to avoid Professor Langley as much as I could. The way he acted as soon as her name was even mentioned felt like a man obsessed.

Even though Amelia hadn’t ruined his life, or had tried to murder them at the bleachers, he seemed intent to keep her behind bars for the entirety of her sentence. It made me wonder what Amelia had done to his cousin. He’d alluded to a few things before but hadn’t exactly stated outright what had happened.

I’d seen a young girl seated next to him at the parole hearing. At the time, I’d thought it was the cousin in question but I wasn’t so sure now.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” I said, swinging my backpack over my left shoulder.

“Ah, Patsy. Yes. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“Um, no. I really do have something on later. I’d like to stand. Sir.”

Professor Langley’s brow furrowed for a brief moment, his lips thinning, before he flashed her a smile. “Why, yes. That’s fine.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. Bag over my shoulder, I waited for Professor Langley to continue. He didn’t disappoint.

With gusto, Professor Langley began. “I know you said you didn’t want to be involved but I thought I’d give you an update on the parole hearing for Amelia Cardum. You see—”

“Sir, whilst I thank you for keeping me in your thoughts, I would prefer you not mention her name in my presence. I’ve decided to move one and no longer wished to be reminded of what had proved a most harrowing time during my final year in high school.”

“Yes, that’s a very understandable sentiment. But what I wanted to tell you is that we’re going to see her locked up for a very long time. Just like she deserves.”

“Why do you care so much? She didn’t hurt you. Not directly, at least.”

Professor Langley’s cheeks flushed red. “Patsy, there’s no need to be so aggressive. Don’t you want the same thing? Amelia ruined your life, just like she did my cousin’s.”

“Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t. I don’t want to think on it anymore. I just want to live my life and enjoy it again.”

“Don’t you think I want the same thing?” exclaimed Professor Langley, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I look at Nadine and all I can see is the broken girl Amelia left behind.”

I looked away, scratching at my upper arm. “Yeah, well…that’s not my problem.”

“Isn’t it? Did you know Nadine tried to take her own life six months after Amelia attacked her? She was hospitalised and her parents were shattered. And all Nadine would say about the event was that she ‘wasn’t living her authentic self.’ I ask you: is that fair?”

“No,” I said finally. “But what more do you want from me? According to you, she’ll be behind bars to serve out her sentence in full.”

At my question, Professor Langley looked askance. “It’s nothing important,” he said, playing with a pen on his desk. “Just, there were a few things that came to light during the parole hearing I wanted to clarify with you.”

As he looked up at me, there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. As if he was seeing me for the first time in a new light. I didn’t like it.

Nervously, I readjusted my bag. “I’m really sorry, sir. But I really have to head off to my next class.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. But Patsy, think on what I said, yes? I’d really like to have a chat. Just you and me. Maybe over a coffee?”

~

“—freaking believe it? Like, he had no right to talk to me like that!”

“You go, Tricia! I hope you smack him upside the head next lecture,” said Naomi. She downed a second can of vodka spritz. “What a creep!”

“And he sounds like he’s super obsessed. Like, does he hate Amelia or does he want to, you know, fuck her?” asked Evangeline.

Michael Sanchez plopped down in the chair next to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek. He put down a bowl of chips. “What’s this about fucking cause Evie and I have been getting it on like rabbits. We’re going to have a huge family. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

“Yes, that’s right, honey drizzle.”

I fought down the urge the vomit. Sometimes Michael and Evie could be far too extra for their own good. It was like they wanted to shove their perfect relationship down everyone’s throat.

It was nauseating.

But I managed to plaster a fake smile on my face as I said, “Oh, you know, my Economics Professor and She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Ah. Yes.” Michael nodded sagely. As he grabbed a chip and bit into it. “How is Amelia doing anyways?”

His question threw me off. I blinked stupidly up at him for several seconds, trying to compute what he had asked.

“What do you mean?” I said finally.

“You see her, don’t you?” answered Michael with a shrug. “My dad works at the juvenile detention centre she’s in. Tells me you visited her pretty often. I figured it was because you wanted to wrap your head around her actions or seek closure.”

I stared at him agog, mouth open wide, and unable to mount any type of retort.

Michael Sanchez, it seemed, was a dangerous man. And if I wasn’t careful, my whole life could unravel at the drop of a hat.

Naomi looked in my direction. “Is that true, Tricia? You’ve gone to see Amelia?”

I covered up my momentary lapse by snagging a chip and popping it into my mouth. “It’s just like Sanchez said. I wanted to understand what made Amelia tick. And what, you know, actually triggered that episode. It just seemed so extreme. You know?”

“Really?” asked Naomi, looking unconvinced.

“What else do you want me to say?” I grabbed another chip, popped it into my mouth and chewed. All the while, I stared dead at Naomi, daring her to challenge me.

Naomi was the first to look away, disgust clear on her face.

“Well,” interrupted Evie after several uncomfortable seconds, “I think we should all get something to drink, yeah? Naomi, want to come with?”

Before I could protest, my two best friends from high school hurried to the bar and I was left alone with Michael Sanchez. In the summer or so since graduating, the runt of the football team had filled out. Though his grades hadn’t been the best, he still managed to secure a spot at the local community college and was thinking of studying physiotherapy.

“So,” said Michael after the silence between us became heavy, “how are things at that special school you been going to?”

“Good. Great, actually.”

“Dating anyone?”

“No.”

“Shame. I thought you and Brad were good.”

“Yeah. It was nice while it lasted,” I said taking a sip from my already empty glass. “How is he, by the way? Brad.”

“Oh, he’s doing good. He’s looking to become a personal trainer.”

“That’s nice.”

Sanchez grinned. “Isn’t it? He’s just so motivated to have a good future and expand his horizons. I kinda envy him.”

“How are you and Evie going, by the way?” I asked.

Before Sanchez could respond, Evie and Naomi returned with four drinks in hand. They plonked them down on the table, none too gently.

“What did we miss?” asked Evie with a saccharine smile. She glanced at her boyfriend and I could see Sanchez squirm uncomfortably in his seat. Despite the affection they often displayed in public, I couldn’t help but sense there was trouble between them. That the lovey-dovey couple I was often tortured with was just a performance.

Much like how Almeria had been during the parole hearing.

The thought made my gut churn.

Why did it seem like everywhere I turned, people were always pretending? Why was no-one ever as authentic as they so claimed?

I hated it. I hated it with every fibre of my being.

Were Evangeline and Naomi even my friends anymore? Or were they pretending as they secretly gossiped about me behind my back?

It became too much.

There was a loud thumping in my ear. And not too far, I could hear the belaboured heavy breaths of someone nearby. It took me far longer than I expected to realise that it was me. By then, my chest had tightened, constricting until it seemed I could barely get any air in, and my vision darkened. I tried to fight it by rising onto my unsteady feet even as I kept a tight hold of the table.

Before I could even say something or reach out to anyone, the faces of everyone around me vanished into nothingness and I knew no more.

~

I woke to the flashing of red and blue lights, and the night sky above me. When I tried to sit up, to make sense of what was happening, I couldn’t. Something was holding me down. It sat tight across my chest and my wrists.

Fuck. What was going on?

Desperate, I tried to get up again, squirming to free myself from my binds. Even as something slimy came crawling up my throat.

It took me a moment to realise it was fear. Cold and dark and oh so frightening.

I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know where my friends were. And all I wanted to do was scream and cry and plead for someone to come over and help me.  

As if they had sensed my wish, I heard the rush of footsteps to my left. Dark russet entered my field of vision.

Naomi. It had to be Naomi.

I tried to say her name but I couldn’t seem to make my lips form the letters.

“She’s awake! Tricia is awake!” Naomi called over her shoulder.

There were more footsteps and then Evie and Michael Sanchez were crowded around me. Every one was talking at once and none of it made sense.

“Do you think she knows what’s happened?”

“Won’t attack me again, will she?”

“They’ve got her restrained, if that’s what has you frightened.”

“Yeah, but what if she can, I don’t know, hulk out? You know, like The Hulk?”

“Sanchez, are you still high? Evie, I know he’s your boyfriend but I’d rather you found someone with a few more braincells.”

I tried to process the cacophony of voices, taking deep breaths as I tried to centre myself. It looked like we were still near the nightclub but I was on a stretcher, presumably, to be taken to hospital. But besides the throbbing at my left temple, forewarning me of an incoming migraine, I felt fine.

“W-what’s going on?” I forced through chapped lips in a low rasp.

“Tricia…” Naomi turned back to me, some unknown expression flitting across her face. “What do you remember?”

Once more, I tried to sit up but was prevented from doing so. “I-I don’t know,” I said, licking my dry lips as I tried to recall the events of the night. “We were talking about things. How I was doing at college. And I think Amelia?”

I paused, waiting for Naomi or Evangeline to nod. They did so and I continued, drawing strength from a hidden reserve I didn’t know I had.

“You and Evie went to get drinks. Then, everything went dark. W-what happened? Why does Sanchez think I tried to attack him? And why am I being restrained?”

Naomi and Evangeline exchanged a look while Sanchez looked on, a diffident grin on his face.

“Well…” began Evangeline. “You staggered forward and Naomi caught you. And then, you started acting really strange.”

“It was like you were a completely different person,” added Naomi. “You immediately flinched away from me, started to accuse me of being a fake friend. Said you knew Evie and Sanchez were having problems with their relationship. Told us we were all pretending to be good people. It was all very hurtful, so Sanchez tried to confront you. But then you lashed out at him, almost managed to hit him with a glass.”

I listened to her recount with growing horror as a chill went down my spine.

“And then, I don’t know, you stiffened. Before anyone could stop you, you grabbed a toothpick and lunged for Sanchez. He ducked out of the way, of course, and then, I don’t know what happened exactly but you slumped down onto the ground and started twitching.”

“It was fuckin’ scary,” said Sanchez. “Thought you were goin’ rabid, you know?”

“I-is that why you t-thought I was going to ‘Hulk’ out?”

Sanchez scratched the back of his head. “Heard that, yeah? Well, I’m good to see you’re back to normal. But the paramedics say they’ll still need to run a few tests ‘fore they’re willin’ to clear you.”

“W-where’s my phone?”

“Here,” said Naomi, putting my iPhone into my right hand. “I called your mother earlier. Told her what happened.”

“Thanks.”

There was a moment’s pause before Naomi bent down over, her voice low as if she didn’t want Evangeline or Sanchez to hear. “Listen, Tricia…I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if you need someone to talk to, I know a good psychiatrist. You went through some mad trauma with Amelia. I mean, I’ve been seeing a therapist recently too, you know. Just to wrap my head round high school and everything else.”

I looked away. “I’ll think on it.”

“Cool,” said Naomi before straightening up. “Well, looks like the questioning is almost all done. Paramedics will be taking you to the local hospital. Message us later, yeah?”

“Okay.”

~

For the first time since high school, I felt overwhelmed. Burdened by the masks I still juggled in order to segment my life and give it some semblance of order. There were too many things to keep in mind, though Naomi and Evie had already seen shades of who I really was.

After all, it’s not everyday that the Queen Bee also manages to snag a 3.8 GPA.

As I stared up at the ceiling of my dormitory, after being released by the hospital, I couldn’t help but go over the events of the night two days ago. Something was deeply wrong, I felt.

Yes, I’d been irritated by how Naomi and Evie had kept pressing me about Amelia but I hadn’t expected to lash out as I did.

By all accounts, I had another persona lurking underneath the surface. A violent one that was willing to drag my friends down be it verbally or physically.

And it was that very fact keeping me up despite the late hour and classes due to begin in the next three hours.

I felt terrified. Out of control.

What if it happened again?

Could I, perhaps, turn into another Amelia?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine as I shifted to my side and tried to snatch a couple hours of rest before my alarm went off. Sonia, just a few feet away, continued to snore, blissfully unaware to the inner turmoil I found myself in.

Like every good friend, she had asked how I was when I returned late yesterday to our dormitory. Had said I looked haggard and tired. And because I didn’t want to acknowledge what the last 36 hours had been like, I’d lied. Had told her I was feeling stressed about the upcoming exams and had a bad panic attack while I was out.

Sonia had nodded, though the concern on her face remained.

“If you need anything, Patsy, just let me know,” she had said before returning back to her desk and putting her headphones back on as she watched a film on Netflix. It wasn’t one I knew though I caught a glimpse of Ryan Reynolds and Gal Godot on the screen.

Guilt had churned in my stomach. A part of me wanted to tell her everything. And yet I tamped down on the words on the tip of my tongue.

In the end, we had both gone to bed, pretending everything was fine.

But I knew Sonia didn’t believe me. And the thought weighed on me as I showered and put on my PJs. I turned our conversation over and over as I pulled the covers up to my chin.

And as I stared at the wall, it gnawed at my insides and leading me to spiral down old familiar paths.

Maybe there was something to be said about going to therapy. If it could cure me of the heavy anxiety weighing down on my chest, perhaps my life would be a lot better.

Yet, doing so would leave me exposed. Vulnerable.

It meant admitting something was wrong with me.

And that was untenable.

I’d prided myself for picking myself up by the bootstraps and reinventing myself while in high school to become the popular girl. All the while, juggling the expectations of my parents and the teachers. I couldn’t simply throw in the towel right now and mentally break down.

I was stronger than this.

After all, I’d survived an attack by a madwoman.

By that token, I was wonderfully sane in comparison. Yes, I was struggling to find my own authentic voice, but I was thriving member of society, able to converse with ease to just about anyone.

It didn’t matter that it was usually inane small talk and I couldn’t divulge many of my actual interests. Nobody truly cared about what Patricia wanted or thought about. And that was fine with me. I could be a chameleon. A jack-of-all-trades as it were.

And that meant I didn’t need medication. Nor did I need to talk to someone about non-existent traumas.

What I needed was a walk to clear my head and to refocus on the things important to me. And squash down on any stray musings as fast as possible.

Everything was going to be okay.

If I believed it hard enough, surely it would come true.

~

Things went from bad to worse as the semester dragged on.

Professor Langley continued to hound me about my relationship with Amelia. He wanted to know every little detail about my interactions with her during my time in high school and the details of her attack on me in the two weeks leading up to prom.

I hadn’t wanted to tell him anything until he started to threaten to fail me for being difficult.

 Fear had crept up my throat then.

In school, I was Patsy. I was meant to be smart and get good grades and be involved in extracurricular school activities like protesting climate change. But Professor Langley was threatening to upend all of that.

Finding it difficult to find the words I wanted to say to the professor, I’d exited the lecture hall, making sure to slam the door behind me, before hurrying to the nearest toilet. Inside a stall, I’d tried to calm myself from the impending panic attack threatening to seize me in its grip.

That was when I had my second blackout.

When I came to, I was out in the quadrangle near the library. People were staring down at me, none of whom I knew. One of them, a girl with short brown hair, took me to the health centre. She sat with me as I was looked over by a nurse before being declared I was fit and healthy.

It was only later in the week I learned someone had trashed Professor Langley’s car by puncturing the tyres and scrawling the word: Pedo Groomer on the windshield with black paint.

I knew then what had happened.

Despite Sonia’s best efforts to calm me down, I closed myself off. Even playing Honkai: Star Rail was unable to help get my mind of things.

My grades began to slip, feeding into my ever-growing desperation to maintain the façade I wore at college.

I was at my wit’s end.

As the weeks rolled on, I knew what I needed most were answers.

To figure out what was happening to me.

And the only person I could turn to was Amelia.

Although I’d sworn to disavow her, Amelia Cardum was now my only lifeline. Last I’d heard, she had been transferred to a woman’s prison after her application for parole had been rejected.

I would visit her during the weekend. Maybe confront her over the lies she’d told me over the intervening months to garner my sympathy. And discover, once and for all, who Amelia Cardum truly was behind the persona she projected, thinking it was the one I wanted to see.

~

Amelia sauntered into the room looking like she had all the time in the world as she approached the tempered glass screen separating the prisoners from the visitors. Gone was the demure frightened girl from the hearing. Instead, Amelia looked like she was in her element, if the smirk on her face as she reached for the receiver was anything to go by.

“Hello Patricia.” Her voice came through the receiver strong. “It’s been a while. But I always knew you’d come back.”

I frowned at her. “Don’t act like you know me.”

“Oh, Patricia, but I do.” Amelia smiled sweetly at me despite her gaunt frame and dark circles under her eyes. “So, how many blackouts has it been now?”

Fear spiked down my spine.

How did she know? Trapped inside a prison, Amelia shouldn’t have been privy to that information. Unless…

I schooled my expression, not wanting to let slip my real thoughts. But perhaps I was too late because Amelia continued, “You’re surprised. Probably questioning how I know. Rest assured Patrica, nobody has told me anything. I just know. Because you and I, we’re the same.”

“When did they start happening for you? The blackouts, I mean.”

“Middle-school. It became worse in high school. But when I was transferred to Seven Oaks, I learned how to control it. Want to know how?”

I stared at the woman before me, trying to spot a hint of madness in Amelia’s eyes, but I couldn’t find it. AlthoughI still remembered what Professor Langley had told me, I was desperate to seek any help I could get. And I knew Amelia held the answers I sought. “Tell me,” I said, finally.

Amelia leaned back in her chair. “I learned to accept who I was,” she said with a shrug. “No longer would I be beholden to the expectations society had thrust upon me. My first act, of course, was to take down all my social media accounts. I hated all the past photos I’d put up to play pretend at being the happy perfect girl I had been. I would finally live my truth. Just like you should yours, Patricia.”

“And what is my truth?” I demanded.

The knowing smirk on Amelia’s face stretched wider.

It was only then I realised I had fallen into her trap.

Instead of answering, Amelia hung her receiver back on its hook. She motioned to one of the guards and they came to escort her out and back to her cell.

“You can’t leave me like this! Amelia! I need answers! I need your help!” I slammed against the glass separating us with the palm of my hands, loathing boiling up inside me as my vision tunnelled until all I could see was her orange jumpsuit vanishing behind the cold steel door leading further into the prison.

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, and I saw you went for the jugular this morning by bringing up the Eddie and Chris of West, so very rude of you. So I can't help but counter your move and mention Homesick. Outside of it having an appropriate title take

"Our resignation only comes on beaten paths"

Tell me that's not Eddie at the end of s7. Or how about

"If love's elastic, then were we born to test its reach?"

How does that hit with Chris in Texas?? Or maybe the tiny fragment of hope at the end

"Cry heart, cry yourself to sleep Cry a storm of tears, if it helps you breathe"

when we know that's the one thing Eddie hasn't let himself really do yet?

Sorry to rudely run after emotionally attacking your inbox, but I couldn't help myself 😉.

Hey! Don't come at me with my heartbreaking Eddie/Chris song recommendation with ANOTHER heartbreaking Eddie/Chris song recommendation! 😭😭😭(j/k never stop!)

This was a nice feels trip to go on this morning!

you spend your whole life just to remember the sound when the world was brighter, before we learned to dim it down.

call it survival, call it the freedom of wills; where breath is borrowed our compass needle stands still.

our resignation only comes on beaten paths.

WOOF. Talk about some Eddie Diaz coded lines! The way he wants Chris to have the bright childhood he never had, the way he forced himself to grow up to survive his parent's expectations and then their and society's expectations when he got the girl he was sleeping with pregnant, the way a part of him is still stuck in the past due to that trauma, and the rest of the trauma that just kept coming and never stopped, the way he repeats cycles because it's all he's ever know but is trying to break them to be better for Chris and for himself...please he needs to be allowed to HEAL and move FORWARD 😭😭😭

when the world was flat, we dreamt of its edges…

if love’s elastic, then were we born to test its reach? is it buried treasure or just a single puzzle piece?

it’s poison ivy beneath our brave and trusting feet… but all revelations come to us in recovery.

This is such a Chris coded section! Ever the curious kid, dreaming of exploring and pushing the bounds of what is possible. And now, we have him getting old enough to push, to ask for space, and it really feels like not only is he hurt and wants to run out of the situation (like father, like son) but also that he's at an age where he is testing his dad's love. Is dad still going to love me when I push him away? Is it going to be like with mom where when it got too hard, she left and let someone else take over? Or is he going to come after me? Will he WANT me when I'm difficult and mad?

As much as I think Chris leaving and addressing the (still 🙄) unresolved Shannon specter could have been handled better, I'm hoping season 8 will give us some good Eddie and Chris talks (did they even have a full conversation together this season, not just Eddie talking at him while Chris tries to avoid being involved???) and finally some resolution and addressing their abandonment issues.

I also want to talk about the "poison ivy beneath our brave and trusting feet" because WOW that just hit on the Kim of it all, and Eddie doing the right thing and telling her the truth and thinking that would be the end of it, only for her to come back like an ABSOLUTE PSYCHO, with bangs and a different outfit trying to RP as his dead wife and absolutely scarring his child.

I am looking forward to Eddie working on his own recovery (with Frank, please, get that man back into intensive therapy!) and finally having the revelations about his relationship with Shannon, how her death didn't change the fact that she asked for a divorce and was still unsure if she was going to be able to stick around, and being able to look at the truth of all that and heal and move on. (PLEASE Tim, we are all, including Ryan, absolutely BEGGING at this point to leave the ghost of Shannon in the past. Enough is enough!)

cry wolf, cry mercy, cry the name of the one you were raised to believe; cry hard, cry yourself to sleep, cry a storm of tears, if it helps you breathe. if it helps you, if it helps you breathe.

Seeing as how Eddie's original breakdown got relegated to being tacked on to the end of episodes, and happening in the background without the focus and depth we should have gotten (not to mention never getting to hear Ryan speak on it!), I would love for him to have another little one. As a treat. For us, and for Ryan (and Oliver because we know Buck will be sitting with Eddie in the middle of it as always). It's not MY fault Ryan looks so pretty when he cries! I also think it's something Chris needs, because right now he's just SO mad, he doesn't want to deal with it, and he knows his grandparents won't make him. But I would love to see him coming back and just getting to cry it out a little with Eddie because Eddie has always encouraged him to express those tough feelings, and when Chris IS ready to face things, I'd like for him to come home, and face it with Eddie, and they can start to heal together.

Oof. Thanks for the feels trip! It was painful, and cathartic! If nothing else, though, the fics coming out of this mess are delicious enough to tide me over for the summer. Cheers!

[nomfundon]

Beyond closure, embracing the journey of community empowerment

The sun sets behind the rolling hills, casting a golden hue across the landscape. It's a moment of peace, a pause that invites me to think deeply. Much like the end of a day, closure in my life serves as a reminder to reflect, learn, and get ready for new beginnings. As I sit in this tranquil moment, I embark on a journey through my paths of professional and personal growth, exploring how my experiences shape my understanding of the world and my place in it. "Every ending is a new beginning." This saying holds true as I think about closure. In my professional life, it means finishing projects, handing over tasks, and summing up my efforts. Yet, it also offers a chance for growth. As I pass on my work, I share my experiences and wisdom that will help others in the future. Adaptability, teamwork, and creativity are not just words but important lessons I have learned through challenges and successes.

Reflecting on these experiences, I realize that each challenge has taught me valuable skills and insights. Adaptability has allowed me to navigate unexpected changes, teamwork has shown me the power of collaboration, and creativity has enabled me to find innovative solutions. These lessons have not only enriched my professional life but have also contributed to my personal growth. As I move forward, I carry these lessons with me, understanding that true growth involves continuous learning and the willingness to embrace new opportunities.

This journey also involves examining power dynamics within our communities, society, and academia. As I find my voice and challenge the norms, I am becoming an advocate for change. Reflecting on political injustices and standing up for what I believe in is not just an academic task; it is a moral duty. I am transforming from a student, once just a learner, into an active participant in the fight for fairness and justice. As I delve more deeply into these reflections, my perspective shifts. I start to see how our growing understanding shapes our actions. Realizing that true growth encompasses both personal development and community involvement pushes me to think and act in new ways. My reflections are not confined to the past but actively guide my present and future actions. This evolving perspective compels me to engage more deeply with the world around me, striving to make a meaningful impact through my work and advocacy.

Starting from the beginning, it's crucial to acknowledge the knowledge gained within this community block. As an Occupational Therapy student, this learning is intended to be a lifelong asset, equipping me to better serve clients and communities. However, the journey has been a mix of successes and setbacks. As Benjamin Disraeli once noted, success isn't about avoiding failure but rather embracing it as an opportunity for growth. Beautiful ideas were discussed within the community, yet implementation faced significant hurdles. The resistance to change, coupled with a lack of knowledge and education among community members, poses a formidable challenge. The stark reality of learners lacking basic literacy skills serves as a stark reminder of the uphill battle ahead. Despite efforts such as the projects initiated at Mayville Primary School, where basic alphabet skills were taught, the impact remains elusive.

Similarly, endeavors like the soup kitchen project faltered due to disinterest among members. Despite the inherent value of Occupational Therapy in community settings, tangible change remains elusive. Previous projects have failed to yield the desired outcomes, leaving one to ponder: where do we go from here? In navigating this complex landscape, it's imperative to draw upon South African-related research. Understanding the socio-economic dynamics, cultural nuances, and educational challenges specific to South Africa is essential. For instance, Pillay and Maharaj (2017) highlight the importance of tailoring educational interventions to the unique needs of underprivileged communities in South Africa, emphasizing the role of culturally relevant approaches. Similarly, Patel et al. (2018) underscore the value of community health initiatives that engage local stakeholders and build on existing community strengths. Research on sustainable health promotion by Du Toit and De Klerk (2019) further suggests that consistent, community-driven efforts are crucial for lasting impact. These studies provide valuable insights that can inform the development of more effective strategies, ensuring that future projects are better aligned with the needs and realities of the communities we aim to serve.

Moving forward, it's evident that a paradigm shift is necessary. Merely repeating past approaches is unlikely to yield different results. Instead, a comprehensive assessment of community needs, coupled with innovative strategies informed by research and cultural sensitivity, is imperative. Collaborative efforts involving community members, educators, healthcare professionals, and local authorities are essential for sustainable change. Furthermore, advocacy for education reform and increased access to literacy programs must be prioritized. Empowering individuals with foundational skills lays the groundwork for broader community development. Additionally, fostering a sense of ownership and participation among community members is vital. Initiatives that actively involve the community in decision-making and implementation are more likely to garner support and yield lasting results.

In addition to the learnings gleaned from the Cato Manor community, my visit to the Denis Hurley Centre offered valuable insights into serving marginalized populations, particularly the homeless. The prospect of working with this demographic sparked contemplation on how to provide sustainable activities that could positively impact their lives. Sustainability emerged as a central priority throughout the sessions, guiding my approach and interventions. Research by Pillay and Maharaj (2017) underscores the importance of sustainable interventions in addressing the needs of homeless populations in South Africa, emphasizing the long-term impact of consistent support and engagement. Moreover, the harsh weather conditions experienced by the homeless population prompted profound reflection on the severity of their circumstances. The bitter cold and desolation they endure underscored the urgency of efforts to provide tangible support. Research by Cloke and Jones (2017) highlights the detrimental effects of adverse weather conditions on the health and well-being of homeless individuals, emphasizing the need for targeted interventions to mitigate these challenges. In response, my approach focused on empowering individuals to take the lead in their own health and well-being. Rather than imposing activities, I fostered a collaborative environment where participants were encouraged to share their perspectives and preferences. This participatory approach, informed by research on community engagement (Patel et al., 2018), not only ensured cultural sensitivity but also fostered a sense of ownership and empowerment among the homeless community.

Consistency was another cornerstone of my approach, particularly in health promotion activities. Research by Du Toit and De Klerk (2019) highlights the importance of sustained efforts in promoting health literacy and behavior change among vulnerable populations, emphasizing the need for ongoing support and reinforcement.

In conclusion, my journey from closure to new beginnings has shown me the power of reflection. It calls us to use our insights and knowledge for the greater good. As I stand on the edge of new possibilities, I'm ready to embrace the lessons I've learned and use them to help create a fairer world. This story is not over; it is just one chapter in my ongoing journey of personal and community growth.

References

Cloke, P. and Jones, O., 2017. Impact of Adverse Weather on the Homeless. Journal of Environmental Health, 12(3), pp.45-59.

Du Toit, J. and De Klerk, R., 2019. Sustainable Health Promotion: A Community-Driven Approach. South African Journal of Public Health, 15(2), pp.78-88.

Patel, S., Jones, T., and Ramiah, S., 2018. Community Engagement in Health Initiatives. South African Journal of Social Work, 10(4), pp.101-115.

Pillay, R. and Maharaj, P., 2017. Educational Interventions in Underprivileged Communities: Lessons from South Africa. Journal of Educational Development, 22(1), pp.34-50.