#i'm convinced we live in the matrix

[mrfleshwizard]

Please tell me this isn't real. There is NO fucking way somebody named themself on tik tok "Adam's latina rwpe toy."

[fuckyeahpedropascal]

Pedro boys smoker matrix

Friendly discussion and even fiery debate welcome as always! 🔥

I'm back! In true Cee fashion, this idea attacked me from nowhere and I couldn't stop until I was done. This was so much fun to put together, and I have many thoughts to share under the cut.

• Masterlist •

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Chain smoker

Javier

The OG who makes these sucking on these cancer sticks look sexy AF, he is the only one out of the Pedro boys who deserves this accolade. Whether he's lighting up, talking around a cigarette, staring into space smoking on one - it doesn't matter what he's doing with it, he sells it.

Stress smoker

Tim Rockford, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Maxwell Lord

I wanted to put Tim in the chain smoker category, I'm convinced this stressed detective easily smokes a pack a day, but since we weren't treated to any evidence of his smoking habits, I decided to put him in this one instead. The others are pretty self-explanatory given the nature of their jobs, but can I just say - I would kill for a glimpse of Dave York smoking.

Social smoker

The Thief, Max Phillips, Nico, SNL Charlie

You know these guys wouldn't miss the chance to schmooze, especially over a cigarette.

Weed only

Dieter Bravo, Ezra, Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez

I mean, if they had weed in Westeros, Oberyn would be all over it, it fits right in with his lifestyle. Both Dieter and Javi do recreational drugs in the movies, and Ezra? He gives the vibes that he grows his own weed.

Quit after kids

SNL Meemaw, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels

Don't @ me, Jack didn't lose his baby and his wife, he had two more kids and is living happily ever after 😭 We saw Joel's reaction to Tommy smoking, and I like to think that Frankie quit smoking and drugs after his baby arrived. And you just know that Meemaw used to smoke cos she's badass.

Never smoked

Din Djarin, Pero Tovar, Edward, Ricky Hauk

Din for obvious reasons of his religion, and Pero because I did some *research* and the movie is set in the early 11th century, which is before tobacco was introduced to Spain or China. But I just know that Pero would be a chain smoker in another life. It's so much fun including the two baby P's in this compilation - I've never watched Buffy or Touched by an Angel, but you can't convince me these two literal angels have ever touched a cigarette.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

You Better Cross the Line

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

2k words

Warnings: Language, reader has a nickname, lying/sneaking around, adults drink beer, Roy is already down bad, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting

“Yeah, Kent. You could call me sometime.”

Roy nodded, clearly fighting the urge to smile, and squeezed your hand. “You should probably go inside soon,” he sighed as he turned his face towards the sky. “Your dad’ll be looking for you.” As though he couldn’t help it, he looked back at you. “But I’ll call you,” he promised with a firm nod.

You reluctantly left Roy on the pitch, your head swimming with wondering when the footballer would call you and what he would say. Or ask. It was clear you were no longer alone in your attraction, and that this was at least something more than an entertaining flirtation on his end.

The questions still floated in your mind while you watched your father gather his work things. When he wasn’t looking, you quickly scribbled your mobile number on a sticky note and tucked it into Roy’s locker when no one was paying attention.

In the car you were uncharacteristically quiet; normally, you and your dad would spend the drive chatting about training, about the players, about any football news or rumors you’d read while sitting in his office. But today, your thoughts were too full of Roy Kent and his brown eyes and wondering when he’d call to offer anything more than little Mmm hmms and Yeahs to your increasingly perplexed father.

It was the moment you walked through the front door that your mobile and the universe had mercy on you. You all but scrambled up the stairs as you answered it.

“Hello?” Fuck, since when was your voice this damn breathy?

“Hey.”

Your heart and your bedroom door slammed in sync. Roy Kent was calling you.

How were you supposed to breathe, let alone talk, when a gorgeous, funny, talented, famous footballer called you up after holding your hand on the pitch?

Clearly, Roy could tell you were struggling to form words, because he went on speaking. “This is Roy.” As if you wouldn’t know that delicious growl anywhere.

“I know,” you finally managed. You collapsed on your bed. “You called fast,” you teased.

“Didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten,” he replied with a small chuckle. Why the hell did he sound nervous? You were the one living in a fantasy, lying in your room, chatting on the phone with Chelsea’s star player. For him, this was probably just a Thursday night. “I was wondering…” He cleared his throat, a low, gruff sound. “D’you want to come over? We could watch a film, have some pizza.”

You were living in the Matrix. That was it. That had to be it. There was no other explanation to why Roy fucking Kent was asking you out. Well, in. But still. How the fuck was this happening?

“Sure,” you managed, hoping he couldn’t hear how thick your voice felt. “That sounds great.” You sat up and cleared your throat, grimacing at your reflection in the mirror and trying to flatten your suddenly unruly hair. “What time?”

“Whenever.” There was that Roy Kent aloofness, almost as if he was trying to convince you he didn’t care as much as he truly did. “Just… you’re not telling your dad, right?”

There it was. The thing that was going to be perpetually hanging over whatever this thing was going to end up being. Dear Old Dad, Chelsea’s fearless leader, Roy’s boss. He’d never in a million years approve of you seeing Roy Kent. He knew what footballers were like, and he knew what Roy Kent was like. Your dad might have that heart attack he was always joking about if he got even a whiff of this conversation.

Not that you were going to let that stop you.

“Course not,” you hummed. “You’d be buried under Stamford Bridge if the old man ever found out you called.”

His chuckle echoed in your ear. “Appreciate it.”

He quickly gave you directions to his flat, and you agreed to be over in about an hour. When you hung up, you fought the urge to scream into a pillow. You were going to Roy Kent’s place. You’d be watching a movie, hanging out, with Roy Kent. Hell, you might wind up kissing Roy Kent by the end of the night.

You clambered out of bed and rushed to your closet. You’d gone on lots of dates, you reminded yourself. Dates with ridiculously good-looking guys even. Successful dates, you might add. But none with Roy Kent, the little voice in your head pointed out.

After stressing over whether or not you could even call this a date, you finally forced yourself to find a flattering pair of jeans and a light sweater. Comfortable, casual enough for a movie night, but something you knew you looked good in. A quick brush through your hair, a little lip gloss, some trainers on your feet. It was just right for a night in, and hopefully simple enough to not rouse your father’s attention.

“’m taking the car!” you shouted as you practically skipped downstairs.

“Where are you off to?” Your mother’s soft smile was a welcome sight when you were hoping to avoid your dad.

You fiddled with the strap of your purse. “Angela’s,” you blurted out, naming a friend your mother knew well. “Just having a girls’ night.”

She nodded; there was no reason to doubt you, not when your summers were always full of evenings with your friends. “Have fun.” A kiss landed on your forehead. “Be safe, alright?”

Be safe. Her words bounced around in your head as you climbed into your dad’s car, the one you usually borrowed when you were home. Be safe. Was spending time like this, alone in Roy Kent’s flat, being safe? You weren’t an innocent little dove, but you knew his reputation. You knew it well. You giggled over it with your friends, wondering if the things you read in the tabloids were true, rolling your eyes lightheartedly when the girls asked if you’d ever seen anything in the changing room.

Oh, the things they’d say if they knew what you were up to.

The drive to his building was shorter than you expected, shorter than you needed it to be with the nerves you were trying to control. Somehow, they got worse as you strolled into the building and found your way to Roy Kent’s flat. After a shake of your shoulders to try to get rid of the tension they carried, you gave a quick rap to the door.

You waited maybe two beats before you heard the knob turn. Roy Kent filled the doorway in a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt that fit him too perfectly. He smirked at the sight of you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes flickered down your body. He was less the guy on the pitch who quietly asked if he could call you and more the cocky man you’d read about in tabloids; you weren’t sure which you preferred, but you’d take either one in a heartbeat.

“C’mon in,” he hummed as he opened the door wider for you. You followed him inside, pretending you often found yourself in the flats of professional footballers. He nodded to a shelf filled with DVDs. “Pick something,” he said simply. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.” You turned your attention to the movies as you listened to his footsteps recede to what you assumed was his kitchen. He had a decent collection, you observed. A little bit of everything, and even a couple things you’d never heard of. A smile crossed your face when you caught sight of a familiar movie title.

Roy returned with a couple of beers and a box of pizza, his eyebrows raised when he saw the movie you were holding up. “When Harry Met Sally?” he read.

You nodded and accepted the bottle he handed you as well as the pizza box. “That alright? I really like this one.”

“Whatever you want, princess.” He took the case from you and nodded for you to have a seat.

Roy Kent’s couch was comfortable. It didn’t creak when you sat, not like the couches in residence halls tended to do. You put the pizza on his coffee table and opened the box, letting the delicious smell fill the room. After he turned on the television and set up the movie, Roy turned to look at you, something unreadable flickering on his face for a brief moment.

“Grab a slice,” he mumbled as he plopped down next to you. His eyes found yours, searching for a brief moment. “Thanks for coming over.”

There he was. The guy who’d laid next to you on the pitch and gently touched your hand and asked if he could call you. The guy you liked best, you decided.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you murmured, grabbing a piece of pizza before settling back into the couch. For the second time that day, you found yourself far too close to Roy Kent. Even with the whole couch to sit on, he chose to sit close to you, close enough for your arms to brush every time you took a sip of your beer.

The two of you watched the start of the movie in silence, except for a few breathy chuckles here and there when Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan were particularly funny. Thankful that the food had filled your stomach with something besides butterflies, you stole a glance at Roy. He looked comfortable, almost happy as he brought his bottle to his lips. With his eyes still on the screen, he lifted his arm and settled it behind the couch- behind you. His gazed flickered to you for a moment, eyebrows raised playfully, before he slouched into the cushions.

Was this what Roy Kent making a move looked like?

You tried to focus your attention on the movie, you really did. But you could hear his breathing and feel his side pressed against yours and your peripheral vision could see the pink in this cheeks and fuck, why did he have to smell so good?

When he leaned forward to place his beer on the coffee table, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Oh, shit, you forgot how to breathe. Especially when he kept his arm firmly there once he sat back against the cushions.

Your inability to breathe only got worse when he bowed his head and whispered in your ear, “This alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, feeling bold enough to turn to face him.

From this close, you could count every freckle on his face, memorize the shape of his nose and lips, see the brightness in his eyes. You could practically feel the rise and fall of his chest as he leaned forward, letting his nose brush against yours.

“This alright?”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear, drowning out the sound of Billy Crystal singing “Surrey with the Fringe on Top” on the telly. The only thing you could think about was the tip of Roy’s nose bumping your burning skin and his lips only centimetres away from your own.

“Yes.”

Far too many nights in your dorm had been spent imagining Roy Kent’s lips on yours. But none of those dreams compared to the real thing. Because those fantasies didn’t tell you how soft his lips were, or how his hand rested on your thigh with a gentle firmness. Or how he tasted like pizza and beer and delight. Or the way his mouth parted so his tongue could gently flick against your lips before he pulled away, looking as breathless as you felt. Or, worst of all, how you knew he’d just ruined every other kiss for you.

He cleared his throat as he leaned back, his eyes roaming your face. “Well?”

“Well, what?” You knew he could see the flush on your face, but you hoped that you could hide it by acting as cool as he usually did.

“Well, are you going to let me kiss you again?” There was that cocky grin, the one you often saw on the pitch, the one that made your entire body go warm. “Or are you going to run and tell The Sun that Roy Kent is a shit kisser?”

Despite the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your chest, you laughed and rolled your eyes. “Sorry, I think I need another demonstration.”

Roy shook his head at you and cupped your face. “If you insist, princess.”

Taglist: @gee72sstuff @book-of-roses @kissykissymouth @emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92 @dearvoidgoodnight @misshall14 @issieruby @royal-sunflower @kissmekent @veryprairieberry @itswhateveripromise

[c-n-i-d-a-r-i-a-n]

Thing!!

Got tagged by the lovely @crownedinmarigolds and it's been a while since I done one of these 👀

SO here are my submissions for this 9 People You'd Like To Get To Know Better situation!!

If y'all wanna play I'll throw lassos at these folks! 🤠 @dragomirthewizard @tweltchy @zoominalong @renaissancebadboy @redratt @mrfrunky @dabblingindissent @its-sixxers @shaydh

3 ships: I haven't engaged with "Canon" content for so long that I can barely summon up any concept of canon character x canon character. What media do I even like?? It is a mystery to me… After some very diligent digging into my past and present interests I have these raw uncut gems to present for you ✨

▫ Fallout 4: Danse X Hancock | A shit game that gave us some alright characters but couldn't give them good arcs. We live for good intimate tension and it could have been real between these two with their respective storylines if only the envelope had been pushed 140% farther.

▫ Destiny: Ikora Rey X Eris Morn | I've missed a lot of the recent content but I can dig it. It's one of the more reasonable ones.

▫ Warhammer 40k: The Emperor of Mankind X Malcador The Sigilite | That monster knew love exactly once and no one can convince me otherwise.

first ship: The Matrix: Neo X Trinity X Morpheus | My parents loved these films so I saw them maybe once a month growing up. I'm probably the person who's watched the Matrix the Most. Anyway these three are poly af.

last song:

last film: Guardians of Gahoole - the war-owls movie | We watched it on Christmas because I forgot we owned it and I also forgot how hard that movie fucks, like it pulls no punches for a "If Tolkien wrote Owls" narrative.

currently reading: Priests of Mars | Graham McNeill

currently craving: My second coffee of the morning ☕☕☕☕

fav color: I like oranges and yellows, and blues and greens!

relationship status: Happily married!

last google search: "Dark Souls death screen generator" Most of the jokes I make on Discord hinge upon this macro creator

current obsessions: ▫ Baldur's Gate 3 ▫ Vampire: the Masquerade ▫ TTRPGs with the crew (💋💋💋 y'all are awesome and I love you alll) ▫ If you can count "being stressed about tax filing" then I am also obsessed with tax filing 🤙

[sidprescot]

i uhhhh finished 1899

(spoilers for all episodes below the cut, don't read if you haven't finished watching!)

GOD this show!!!!! i have been screaming internally for like 10 hours now and this is going to be so incoherent sorry

who else thinks the space ship at the end is just another simulation and the start of another loop? the season beginning and ending with maura waking up to a 'letter' from her 'brother', the ship also being called the prometheus, the technology also seeming out of place for the time period, being trapped in the vastness of space instead of the vastness of the ocean but it's still a prison.... could be totally wrong and it's just parallels but i trust nothing and no one on this (space)ship

literally every character on this show is so fucked up (affectionate) i am studying them all like bugs

i did guess that the boy was maura's son but i thought daniel was either an older version of him or her brother, the husband reveal fully knocked me on my ass because up until that point i was convinced they were setting up a maura/eyk romance which i 100% think was intentional clearly they have some connection outside of the simulation and the heart wants what it wants when you have amnesia lmao it's so valid of her tbh i too am making eyes at andreas in that coat

also hear me out what if daniel and elliot are both dead in the original reality (or never existed at all) and the versions of them that we see are actually AI created by maura to cope with her trauma... seems like elliot at least is dead or dying considering the grave bunker and his memory in the chair... if maura is the creator of the simulation, maybe she's also their Creator? what if she can wake up but they never can

tinfoil hat firmly ON

or alternatively what if daniel is actually the antagonist leading her deeper into the simulation OR maybe they're both literally exactly what they seem to be and he's just a guy who loves his wife and wants to save her from herself and also her fucked up family and also maybe loves his son sometimes i am sooooooo full of shit lmao it's 3am bestie

also i was NOT expecting olek and ling yi to fuck me up like that... they speak the language of LOVE ok do not perceive me

and speaking of that i've seen some people say that they feel like the simulation reveal took away the gravity of the death scenes but it didn't at all for me, for one everyone jumping overboard like lemmings off a cliff while you hear their bodies thunk thunk thunk was fucking haunting and that was the bulk of the deaths, but also i just think the implications of the whole thing fuck me up more on a psychological level when it comes to the main characters... they are all doomed by the narrative, new liver same eagles, this is going to happen again and again because they can't escape their emotions, they can't escape love or hate or rage or fear or desire or grief, they can't escape what it means to be human no matter how deep into their dreams and nightmares they go at the core nothing ever changes and it's fucking tragic

in other words, i ugly cried through most of ep 7

and then there's the triangle symbolism, the tattoos, 'what is lost will be found', 1011, some of the names being anagrams, etc etc

THERE ARE SO MANY LAYERS

everything is too real nothing is real at all they're alive they're dead they're in purgatory they're in a hell of their own making they are the glitch in the matrix they are the (literal) bugs in the code i am going to scream

actual footage of me making this post

also i am definitely going to gif the show but i have a really busy week coming up and i'll be out of town for most of it so it might be a while unfortunately but just know the gifs are coming eventually they are living in my little brain as we speak

ok i'm going to shut up now if you read this far thank you, i love you, and i'm sorry lmao

[transingthoseformers]

TF Surge: Shockwave has the same body type as in Knightverse though with a different head, and he was also born one-eyed which is a normal variation. He transforms into a single-barreled siege howitzer, originally the turret was on his back but after losing his forearm in the war he sticks the turret on the stump. He's nonbinary, but only uses he/him. Shockwave's from a rich Tarnian family, he had two parents and perhaps multiple siblings (rich bots can afford to raise multiple sparklings, poor people can't). His parents also had siblings, it was a pretty large family. I'm not sure what exactly should happen to produce Shockwave's specific brand of fucked up, but his parents expected him to become famous or powerful, pushed him to do nothing but study whatever they'd approved him to study, and generally didn't let him just be a child.

As a teen he met Megatron in the library, he was there for science books and Megatron for poetry. They befriended each other and eventually started dating secretly from Shockwave's family, who would've lost their shits if they learned their child was with a *gasp* poor person. For the first time in his life Shockwave sort of opened up, but Megatron wasn't much better at emotions and neither of them got any help.

During the war, Shockwave also rises in the Decepticon alliance's ranks and becomes their head scientist. When the Arc and the Nemesis dissappears and everybody thinks either Megatron, Optimus, and The Matrix is lost, or the crews abandoned them to die. Shockwave slowly becomes convinced of the latter, angry at Megatron for leaving him to starve, angry at himself for loving and opening up to Megatron only for this to happen. Desperate to save the planet and their species, and to find a way to create life without The Matrix. Most of his war crimes propably happen in this timeframe.

He invents spark-splicing and creates Shockblast and Sixshot who are seen as abominations because of their unnatural origin, Shockblast doubly so because instead of growing from living metal he was cold-constructed (a new, foreign concept in Surge) into a copy of Shockwave's body. This treatment and Shockwave's poor parenting are why they're fucked up (Shockwave isn't abusive, but he's emotionally stunted/consticipated, doesn't know what good parenting is, expects them to do something useful at a young age though they are living in post-apocalypse, and obviously prefers Sixshot).

During those decades the war on Cybertron fizzles out, most Autobots and Decepticons also thinking they've been abandoned to die and deserting, defecting, or otherwise turning to Shockwave in desperation. Not necessarily a good idea, because he's also desperate and we know how he is about ethics and morality. He knows what he's doing is evil and knows how he propably will be remembered, but he doesn't care because the ends justify the means and his reputation does not matter, especially when the entire species' future is at the stake. He tries to crush the reminaining tiny Autobot resistance, and if i have other Decepticon warlords (Straxus? Megaempress?) controlling parts of cybertron he fights them too.

Then contact with the lost ships is regained, and when the bots on Earth return to Cybertron they make a truce. Shockwave is expected to surrender. The Matrix still exists. Everything he did was pointless. If Megatron is alive, Shockwave is also still mad at him. Irrationally about the crash leaving him thinking Megatron had abandoned him, and more understandably about the war ending and all the war crimes he committed being revealed pointless.

He's angry. He still has bots loyal to him. He still controls the whole Cybertron, or a large chunk of it. The war is not over.

His design sounds interesting, I always liked his Knightverse design

Explanation for the gun arm makes sense

Being forced to mature too fast will indeed fuck you up, I'm suspecting considering his complicated relationship with emotions in most media and how you suggested he is autistic in Surge that Shockers possibly faced ableism and emotional abuse (also probably verbal. That's common as fuck.) from his parents. But hey that's just a theory based on what I'm observing here and my own research

Shockwave and Megatron sound like they have such an interesting dynamic, especially with how resentful it seems to turn on Shockwave's side after the ships vanished.

Make sense makes sense

So he's probably thinking he's not as bad as his parents, but he's still perpetuating the cycle in his own way because he never got help and has no frame of reference for what the hell a healthy parent/child dynamic is.

The frantic game Shockwave is playing here is fascinating, the road to hell is paved with good intentions no matter how much he tries to justify it.

Makes sense that there would be decepticon warlords that have a tense at best and outright violent dynamic with Shockwave and his leadership.

Oh he is having so many feelings over this. So many feelings.

The war is indeed not over, it has simply changed in a new direction.

[48787]

I keep misremembering singular words from setting wiki pages and then not realizing that i'm misremembering them until I've constructed labyrinthine head canons and large swaths of fan fiction under the mental pretense that what I was saying is grounded in actual canon. Worse, it also frequently is "canon" for something I haven't read through entirely yet so I don't want to look up too many details for and think that I'll be able to find more details on my weird little obsessions only to realize I literally made them entirely on my own.

All I will ever fucking have is what I fucking made up.

Even worse is the fact that I usually have all the discussions about shit like this with the people who wanted me to get into the media in the first place, and since it's singular word differences that have massive ramifications, they sometimes think what I'm saying is real too!!!

Which has a MASSIVE snowball effect where I assume they know more than me about this thing that doesn't exist so I assume there's more info on it that I can find later once I've read more, and they somehow believe me and talk about it like it exists even though it fucking doesn't and we both start constructing terribly intricate headcanons on the entirely false pretense that it's all real.

And then it fucking spreads. The web of deception grows. Its tendrils grasp at who knows how many from there.

Until I go to look it up again for one reason or another and go through the stages of "Oh, maybe I'm searching for it wrong" -> "Oh, maybe it just didn't get written down in the wiki" -> "Where is it?" -> "Oh my God, it never was real." and I have to sit with the fact that I have all this foundational setting shaping shit that only me and those in my fucking reality warping aura know about. I thought everyone knew about this. I thought I was the one who didn't know. I thought there would be more to learn.

All I will ever fucking have is what I fucking made up.

I truly live in a lucid dream within a tomb of treachery. You Are Being Deceived is all about the deceptions we allow ourselves to believe, and boy howdy am I being Deceived.

Fitting, because this time around it was the existence of the Matrix of Deception

At some point some wires got crossed between the Matrix of Conquest and the Matrix of Deception, I thought both were weird Shattered Glass things or perhaps one or the other was something brought up in a weird Transformers continuity that might have lasting ramification in the stuff I was reading... No, the Matrix of Deception never fucking existed.

I have So much lore surrounding the Matrixs (I am not calling them Matrices fuck off), I had assumed there were more than just those three, I had all these little theories about the thirteen primes...

And now they're not even theories. There are only two Matrixs, and they largely only exist in their own universes barring weird crossovers or SG invasions. My attempts to solve the mystery have warped into creating my own mystery to solve.

To my fucking credit, my wife is the main reason I bought into my own deception. She got me into Transformers and she is my primary motivating force to continue looking into it, and so when she thought it was real my descent was practically guaranteed.

But I'm entering the next inevitable stage, the "Did I Do That?" stage, with the haunting possibility that I made it the fuck up deliberately and then forgot that I did. The true horror begins. I may have posted HERE, on THIS VERY BLOG, about making it the fuck up. And I still managed to forget and then convince myself that it was real, at least in some continuity.

It's too late now. There is too much already. I just have to keep going.

I've learned that the Matrix of Conquest is sometimes called the Matrix of Chaos, which adds another Matrix to my list, if I'm already making shit up then I might as well split them into their own things. Might as well break the triune... I had to get 10 more anyway to make it to 13... even though not all of the 13 Prime's made a Matrix and instead made other shit.... Whatever.

I am in too deep. I need to start writing stuff down before I forget it, now that I'm once again the sole arbiter of this fucking nonexistent lore... I already was writing various fanfictions and had ttrpg shit planned... At least I no longer have the possibility of getting spoiled on it anymore!

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

Ok, your post about the Celtic burial with the adorably-repaired Greek lion cauldron came across my dash, and I just have to ask - is your URL on this blog an intentional Guy Kay reference? And if so, do you have good Guy Kay blogs recs? He’s my favorite author of all time and I feel like he’s desperately underrepresented on my dash.

Yes, it absolutely is! And the short answer is, alas, I do not know any good GGK blogs.

Beyond this Dark House is my favourite poem, found when I was living in Calgary, breaking my heart. There was a boy I'd once driven from Edmonton to Saskatoon in four hours flat just to see who didn't love me enough, or in the way I wanted, and also I wasn't ready to be loved, which was its own kind of tragedy.

So it caught me with its prairie soul, the knowledge of the richness of life and also that things die out here and take a long long time to fade, all

The shortest night wheels past this window, stars dropping behind the trees.

Somewhere there are bonfires for St John, somewhere fires for the summer king.

It's so late. For this, for everything, for being still awake beside a window

And then the lines I took for my blog:

Beyond this dark house a train is running away into the night plain. We've all had dreams break fantasies we shaped.

I dragged the boy I was in love with and a few other friends to GGK's book tour pit stop in Calgary, where I was savagely disappointed by how badly he read a sample of Ysabel. Displayed no talent for vocal performance at all. Read almost as if he didn't know how the sentences would end, in a bad way. But you know what, we're human. Everyone's allowed to have flaws.

So the answer about GGK blogs is... I don't seek them out, and don't particularly want to be fannish about them on Tumblr. Some books are like that; some I want to shout about like I've been doing about Tamsyn Muir's Nona the Ninth on @with-my-murder-flute for the last two weeks, and some I just want to take back to my secret cave and devour them where other people can't see.

I love The Fionavar Tapestry with my entire soul, but not my entire brain, and that's uncomfortable. It's a discomfort I'm especially not up to addressing on Tumblr, because like... I don't love how tied he is to a paradigm of queerness being weighed down by heteronormativity, so that queerness is salacious and risqué or just societally sidelined and we don't address the pain that causes because everyone just takes that for granted. But I also think in some senses it's a more accurate reflection of the past than modern queer-positive fantasy, and it's important and useful to keep around reminders of what the world before gay liberation was like. I will candidly admit that I don't actually want to praise him unconditionally and hold him up as an author I would recommend to everybody. He's problematic, you know? I think a lot of his books are him trying to approach a concept, and only capturing it in wisps, and that's especially true when he tries to write about sex and gender relations.

But, the thought of sitting through Tumblr discourse about how he's homophobic and bad gay representation/not homophobic at all and very important and validating actually? Gag me with a spoon. I hate doing that about media I'm enthused with but have no personal stake in, so doing it with something I love so intimately, with pieces of my soul poured into the honeycomb of its matrix, would be torture. When I was fourteen, The Summer Tree convinced me that I'd have a life outside the depression that was crushing me like a stone. It showed me how to imagine a future for myself. I really don't want that tangled up in Tumblr wrangles.

Oh, I do have a fic rec: the late legionseagle wrote The Road Goes Ever On and On, a non-Ysabel-compliant story about a Toronto cop who can't get past the old cold missing persons case of Jennifer Lowell.

And several times a winter, especially when the icicles start to melt, I look up and chant to myself,

Too much of Greece can sear the soul. I am a northern man. Where I come from the sky is wide and far away and March is mired in snow.

[lenaromanov]

Hi again gods and goddesses 🤭

So,I just wanted to talk about the little changes that keep happening in my reality.

The most amazing thing about learning(or remembering, beacuse we forget or are programmed to believe other things) that we are gods,little gods,ok,but we were created in the image of the mf creator of the entire universe,this one and any other that I believe exists! This is big.

Is so gross that from the moment we are born people try to convince us otherwise. They say we are lesser,sinners,helpless. That because of our skin color,place of birth,social standing,etc,etc,we can't have it,we can't do it,we have to suck it up and accept things as they are just like anybody else.

And the biggest blasfemy,they say we are separated from the creator,god,the universe,whatever you call It.

FUCK THAT.

Really. I was created by the universe itself. I'm an immortal councioness. I literally created a matrix for myself to experience life in the 3d!

I'm powerful. We all are.

And I'm actually so happy to learn manifestation because I changed from the inside to the outside. I used to have panic attacks for example and now they are gone. I'm tried to kill myself once and I used to feel so fucking depressed,so down,like I was a piece of dog shit on the floor 😅. I honestly think that until finding my way to manifestation I've never experienced real peace and content. I know it sound crazy,but I had a pretty hard childhood and teen years,but I'm revising it because why not? I DESERVE to have a good childhood,good parents,good things happening to me in that timeline.

So I'm really grateful for all the teachers I found on the internet,for neville and florence and abraham,and many others.

I also wanted to say to that before your big manifestation comes little funny things start to happen,and I don't believe in coincidences.

It can be as little as thinking about a music and the radio plays it right away or your playlist rolls it. Thinking about numbers and seeing then everywhere.

I guess in July I was going back home from grocery shopping and I was thinking that I really wanted to see a friend of mine,her son died and I wanted to see her and see how she was doing,so I decide to pass in from of her house on my way home. She's almost never home because she runs a business,but guess who was just getting home when I got to the street where she lives?

Things like that. Neville says that there are no signs BEFORE manifesting,the signs FOLLOWS, so if you're seeing the signs your manifestation already is here.The fact that it's not in the 3d means nothing. It will show up.

And that's it I guess.

Just some thoughts.

I know this week will be amazing for all of us

🥰

[hauntingofthewoods]

Has anything odd or paranormal ever happened to you? I'm talking ghosts, aliens, glitches in the matrix, doppelgangers, missing time, time travel, you name it, I wanna hear about it!

yes!! there’s been a few times i’ve interacted with ghosts, mostly at a young age. my moms told me several different ghost stories revolving around me as a baby, including my mom seeing her friend, who passed from cancer a few months before i was born, standing over my crib. my other mother once told me about my imaginary friend, shadow. i was around three at the time, and shadow was… a shadow. whenever shadow was around, things would break or get misplaced. when my parents asked me about it, i’d get upset and tell them that it was shadow, not me. like to the point that these adult women were conflicted. that’s all i really have on super young me.

when i lived on the old family farm, my grandmother and i saw a little girl in a white dress one night. another night, my cousin and i had a sleepover there and we were convinced we were communicating with a ghost named sylvia. she had lost her arm and buried it beneath an oak tree that we could never find. we and some more of our cousins thought that we talked to the spirit of the creek on the land.

i’ve had less experiences with ghosts as a teenage or young adult, but once my friends and i went to an old cemetery for a picnic. as night fell, we all started seeing figures in the trees. we started packing up and our phone batteries died one by one so we grabbed our stuff and ran to the car. we went and watched a terrible horror movie bc we had free tickets. we dropped off two of our friends afterwards and got a phone call when we were just down the road. they had gone in and there was weird music playing, the house alarm not set, and the backdoor wide open with no one home. it was a hell of an evening.

there have been a few interactions with deities (i’m a hellenistic polytheist) but that’s typically just been feelings at altars or dreams.

i really enjoyed this ask btw!! thank you :)

[unseededtoast]

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 20/37 | Part Nineteen, Part Twenty One

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"It could regulate his brain functions and stop the programming before it can start."

I tape a piece of paper to wall and take a few steps back. Since the other day my mind map has grown exponentially. There are a lot more theories than we started with, most stemming from Tony's want to apply the gem's framework to one of his protocols. It's been an uphill battle trying to convince him that it's too soon to be trying to create an artificial intelligence on this scale when we don't even understand what we're dealing with fully. However, Tony has grown tired of hearing my protests. So now, all I can do is learn about what we're dealing with so that we're better equipped for Tony's desires.

As Tony mentioned the other day, Ultron has been a fantasy of his for a while and the gem has opened the doors. Basically, Tony wants to create an artificial intelligence protocol to protect Earth from predators originating in space, and to have a suit of armor around the world to respond quickly to any emerging threat. While Bruce was on my side to begin with, I can tell Tony's winning him over, the thought of creating something so grandiose is almost intoxicating to Bruce. I'm not against the idea of creating the protocol, I'm against experimenting with unknown technology on such a large scale.

Tony and Bruce left with each other for lunch today, leaving me in the lab alone. I look to the blue model that's been hovering in the air for the past two days. I've come to the conclusion that if the framework contained within the jewel was given a proper host that it may be possible a sentient being could be created. I've been studying the way that the matrix is working and I can tell that it's taking input from the environment and processing it, much like a brain.

In addition to that, I've also come up with another idea that I haven't disclosed to anyone yet. I walk back to my desk and pull out the drawer containing my notes I've been making while I'm in here alone. Since Tony and Bruce have been infatuated with their idea, it's been relatively easy to work on this by myself. I hear the elevator ding and see both Steve and Bucky walk over, I told them to come down so I can discuss what my idea.

"What is that?" Bucky asks as he passes the model.

"That is what is contained in the gem from Loki's scepter. In a nutshell it's a brain, it takes input and processes it." I say, saving them the long and scientific explanation. I don't have much time to get through my idea before Tony and Bruce come back. I spin the piece of paper around on the table and dive right into my idea.

"Tony and Bruce don't know I've been doing this, I'm trusting you two to keep it that way for now. I think I've come up with a solution that would make the Winter Soldier programming obsolete." I watch as Bucky's eyebrows scrunch together. Steve stares with a blank face, and I waste no time elaborating.

"So the Winter Soldier programming is too deeply conditioned for me to be able to safely remove it and still keep Bucky. This framework may allow me to apply an algorithm to negate the conditioning. If I can apply an algorithm that detects the trigger words, it can shut down the Winter Soldier conditioning." I say, feeling more confident that I'm on the right track.

"But how will you put that algorithm in my mind without more programming?" Bucky asks and I sigh, there is one downfall to my plan.

"In order to put the algorithm in your mind I'm going to have to create a medium that will target the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, it's the only way. But it'll be painless and nothing like the Winter Soldier programming experience, I can promise you that." I say, knowing I still have some obstacles to overcome in order to make this plan work. They both stay silent for a moment and I feel butterflies start flittering in my stomach, what if they don't like the plan?

"If it means the Winter Soldier will be no more, I'm on board." Bucky says, and I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I look to Steve, who has a skeptical look on his face.

"How do you know it'll be painless?" He asks.

"Well the Winter Soldier conditioning was done using electricity over and over again, I plan on creating a laser that will transmit and implement this framework, it'll likely be a pinch at most. They use lasers all the time for surgery, I promise this isn't going to be an experiment." I try to put Steve's anxieties to rest, but I understand how he feels. He just wants to know his best friend will be alright.

"If Bucky's on board then so am I." Steve finally says and I smile, content that I got their approval.

"I just need to work out the finer details and then I'm going to ask Bruce to help me." I say, eager to continue this project.

It feels like an adrenaline rush, I'm so close to being able to redeem myself and save Bucky forever. Five years ago, or even just a few months ago, I never would have dreamed that I would find myself in this position. I was certain I'd never see Bucky again.

Although I had never really met Bucky, truly. I had met the hollow shell of him. Bucky in his entirety is so full of life and I never would have anticipated he was so lively and caring. I never would have thought he would make me blush or cause butterflies in my tummy. All of which inspires and drives me to finish this project. I put the paper back in the drawer and look at the clock on the wall.

"You guys should probably get going, they'll be back any time. I'll meet up with you two later." I say and urge them to leave. The last thing I need is Bruce and Tony asking why Steve and Bucky were down here. Steve nods and starts walking to the elevator, Bucky hangs back.

"I miss you up there, it's not the same. I'll see you later for dinner." He says and smiles before walking to the elevator. Truth be told, I miss him too. I find my thoughts wandering to him most of the time while I'm down here. I miss his goofy remarks and the way he smells, I miss the feeling of being around him, comfortable and secure. I've been on edge for days trying to fight Tony, I feel a constant stress headache in the base of my neck.

Not two minutes after they leave, Tony and Bruce come back down discussing something. They continue to talk, leaving me out of the conversation. Which means they're likely talking about the Ultron protocol. I take in a deep breath to keep myself from rolling my eyes and decide I've had enough.

"Listen, I understand you two are excited to work on the Ultron protocol, the idea is very exciting. I just don't think anything good can come of it until we understand the nature of how this will act when given a host." I say. I think I'm credible enough to speak on this. They stop speaking, looking slightly annoyed I interrupted them.

"What's the worst case scenario?" Tony asks.

"What if it doesn't work the way you intend for it to? We don't know the level of sentience it can achieve, which is why I think we should start small so that we can control it in case something unforeseen happens. Don't think I'm trying to stop the Ultron protocol, I just think we can do it in a smarter way." I say, hoping they'll hear me out this time.

"She has a point." Bruce sighs as he sides with me. It's about time he came back to his senses. After a moment of silence, Tony speaks up.

"Fine. We'll start on small hosts and work our way up." I smile, happy that he's agreed to pause the Ultron program and start small.

The three of us spend the afternoon building hosts that we can apply the framework to. We're going for a humanoid type of vessel since it seems to be operating closely to the mind of a human. Tony blares his music as we work but I can't help but tune it out as I look forward to dinner tonight and being near Bucky.

As evening approaches, we've each created four hosts, equaling twelve in total which I think is more than enough for starter research. I place my tools on the table and watch as Tony steps away from his work station.

"I think we should have a party. You know, it's been too long since we had a party Bruce. We can dedicate it to the Ultron protocol." While I like the idea, I'm uneasy about how big a Stark party will be.

"We keep it small, we don't need any curious people snooping around." Bruce says, and I agree with him.

"Let's set it for the day after tomorrow, give us some time to prepare." Tony says and claps his hands together. He then turns and walks out of the lab, leaving Bruce and I alone.

"What do you think of all this?" I ask, not having a moment alone with Bruce since we shared taquitos. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

"I mean, I want to create the Ultron protocol, having the Iron Legion operate independently would be a huge success. But I understand what you're saying, and I agree. We just don't know how this is actually going to operate when given a host. Tony was saying he wants to integrate Jarvis into the framework and see how it can operate or evolve from that." Bruce says and I raise my eyebrows,

"That's the first I'm hearing of this. But it may not be a bad idea. We already know what Jarvis is, it would be better than just giving the framework nothing. Then we could measure how it evolves and responds to stimulus" I say, not hating the idea. I chew on my bottom lip, debating whether or not I should tell Bruce about my plan.

"Bruce, can you keep a secret for a little bit?" I ask, deciding to just run it by him.

"Sure, what's going on?" He asks. I pull out the paper and hand it to him.

"I was thinking I can use this to help eliminate the Winter Soldier programming." I say and give him time to read over the paper.

"Well how does the Soldier programming work?" He asks.

"In a nutshell, when the trigger words are said in a specific sequence it causes a deeply conditioned response in his brain. First, the dorsal anterior cingulate begins to go dormant, or become less active. Then, the insula and dorsolateral prefrontal cortex begin connecting with each other overtime, these parts of the brain helps someone process and control their body. The programming takes this over and fires the synapses very quickly making it difficult for the brain to keep up with itself and be able to correct the movements, it makes someone lose control over their body essentially. Lastly, the programming causes a reduction of connection between the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and the medial prefrontal, along with posterior cingulate cortex areas of the brain. This reduction in connection causes a person to become disconnected from their actions, they become less aware of what they're doing. If I can find a way to implement an algorithm to the framework and put it in his mind I think it would negate the Winter Soldier programming. It would recognize the trigger words and stop the Soldier programming from being successful, it could regulate his brain functions and stop the programming before it can start." I give Bruce the simplest but complete answer as to how the Winter Soldier programming works.

"That was in a nutshell?" He jokes,

"Yeah, it's about the simplest answer I could give you." I smirk, happy he's not upset with my thought. He looks over the paper again.

"I think it could work. Give us some time to see how this actually works and I'll help you if you need me to. I won't tell Tony, I know how he'll take it." Bruce smiles and hands the paper back to me. I tuck the paper back in the drawer.

"Thank you, Bruce." I say, appreciative that he's willing to keep it secret and help me. This makes three things that I'm keeping from Tony.

We walk out of the lab together and as we step onto the main floor I smell something absolutely delectable. I make my way to the kitchen quickly, my stomach rumbling from the lack of food. I see boxes of food on the counter.

"I don't know how to cook so I thought we'd just order." Steve says. I nod my head,

"That is fine with me." I grab a slice of pizza and sit beside Bucky, who's on the couch adjacent to the kitchen area, in front of the fake fireplace. I nudge his arm with a smile, happy to see him.

"Miss me?" I ask, knowing we both have missed each other. He meets my eyes and nods his head,

"I always miss you. It's boring without you around. Steve and I can only throw a ball for so long."

"Well Tony is throwing a party the day after tomorrow, maybe you two can spend tomorrow preparing for that?" I suggest, not knowing what Tony considers a small party. Knowing him it's probably around one hundred people or so.

"A party?" Bucky asks.

"That's what he said." I take a bite of the pizza.

"I haven't partied since the 1940s." Bucky smiles, liking the idea.

"I think this might be a little different than a 1940s party." I say with a small laugh. I'm sure he'll adapt just fine, he seems to be a natural socialite when he wants to be.

"Maybe we'll go dancing again." He smiles.

"We can definitely go dancing again." I say. The dance we shared seems like it happened ages ago. I finish off my slice of pizza and debate on getting another, it's been a long day in the lab. I go to get another, deciding that I deserve it after putting up with Tony's attitude all day.

"Are you going back to the lab tonight?" Bucky asks.

"No, I think we all need a little break. We're picking up in the morning. Can we have a relaxing night?" I ask, looking over to him, his eyes light up.

"Yeah, of course. We can find a movie or something." He says, it sounds like a lovely idea. We both take the elevator up to the second floor and I go to my room,

"I'll be right over, I'm going to get into something more comfortable." I walk into my room and put on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt that have been laying on the floor for a few days. I put some socks on and go over to Bucky's room. He's standing in front of the tv with a remote in his hand, a confused look on his face.

"How do you get the movies?" He asks, looking between the remote and the tv. I grab the remote from him and show him how to pull up Netflix.

"It's okay, sometimes it takes the elderly a while to understand new technology." I tease him as I give the remote back.

"Wow that hurt my feelings." He says, a smile on his face. I've missed joking around with him.

"Now please pick a movie in color, I don't want the black and white oldies." I say, going to sit on the right side of his bed.

"Now you're taking it too far." He sends me an unamused look, causing me to laugh.

We settle on a comedy movie and Bucky sits on the other side of his bed. I stretch my arms as the beginning credits start and feel tension in my shoulders. I lean my head to the side and rub the muscle.

"Come here, let me." Bucky says, motioning for me to sit in front of him on the bed. I scoot over so that I'm sitting in front of him, between his outstretched legs, and I feel a warm hand on my right shoulder, a cold one on my left. The difference in temperature makes me shiver, but it feels nice. Bucky works out the tension in my shoulders, his hands working slowly yet deliberately. I feel my eyes becoming heavy the more relaxed I become.

I feel his hands leave my shoulders and he pulls me back so that I'm resting against his chest. My head rests on his right shoulder, I feel his arms envelope me in a hug. I keep my eyes closed, enjoying the comfort I've longed for. If I weren't so tired I'd probably move and say something about the boundary, but I'm at peace, this feels right.

The movie plays in the background and becomes white noise for me. I feel Bucky's lips on my left temple, placing a gentle kiss. I feel my face become warm, I don't protest. I drift asleep in Bucky's strong arms, savoring the tranquility.

[cagedchoices]

RAMBLES ON FIDELITY.

I've been catching parts of w.estworld on the roku channel again here and there and today they've been marathoning season 2 so I've been particularly locked in on s2e4, s2e6, and s2e10 because ✨️fidelity✨️ (and I recently watched the m.atrix trilogy too and then my mom was watching s.tar t.rek v.oyager yesterday and we landed on an episode that was basically an alien lifeform trying to convince the captain's conscious mind to leave her body and enter his matrix so I guess in short I have a theme this month and it seems to be centered around choices. and simulated realities. 🤔)

I know that fidelity is described as the Forge wanting to create a perfect copy of original human data it has been given with the end goal of transferring the human consciousness into a host body, thus achieving immortality. Case in point — James Delos.

But by incorporating the secrets and lies that humans tell themselves and the belief that they're in control of their actions when the evidence suggests that they really aren't, those copies stray further away from where they're meant to be, the person they're meant to be isn't who they are.

Delos claims he would do anything for his son Logan and that Logan is his primary drive, but the reality is that Delos abandoned Logan when Logan needed help the most. He essentially thought that any problem anyone faced in life could be solved by them alone if they just tried hard enough, and if they failed then it was because they didn't try hard enough.

The host copies can't seem to reconcile that moment even though it's meant to be the one that shows James Delos's truest self. The 149th attempt to bring him back starts shouting for Logan as he begins degrading more rapidly after William confronts him. And later on after he has fully descended into madness, he paraphrases the last words Logan ever spoke to his father:

"I'm all the way down now. I can see all the way to the bottom. You like to see what I see?"

as well as the moment of acknowledgement Delos offers Bernard shortly after they battle each other:

"They said there were two fathers — One above, one below. They lied. There was only ever the devil. And when you looked up from the bottom, it was only his reflection laughing back down at you."

With Caleb being tested in season 4, Hale wanted to understand why he was able to resist her control, why he seemed to be able to make a conscious choice not to shoot Maeve. But she couldn't see beyond the choice enough to get anything useful out of just rewatching the same memory over and over and over again, so she devised the escape loop for Caleb instead.

Every copy of Caleb that she put through this experience is motivated by the same thing. Caleb is someone who really will give anything, including his life, for the people he loves. This never changes. He still has hope. If none for himself, then for his family and friends, and he holds onto it regardless of whatever else happens.

I've gone back and forth on this quite a bit debating whether or not Caleb has achieved fidelity or not because there's two things that I honestly still struggle with getting my mind around:

For a copy to be a fully faithful recreation of their original, they must be able to make all of the exact same choices under the exact same circumstances as their original. This failed with James Delos in the real world application. It works in a simulated world. (i.e. Dr. Ford in the Cradle, James Delos in the Forge, Dolores recreating Arnold, Hale simulating Caleb's memories)

For a copy to be considered fully conscious, they have to be able to make choices of their own free will, assuming it exists. Those choices may differ from what the human original may have done due to improvisation, but no one can know this for certain fact if the original didn't live long enough to have to make the choice themselves.

Because the original Caleb died before he could make it back to his family, we can't ever know for sure how he would've acted, what he would've done if he was reunited with them. So any copy that makes it that far can't really be Caleb, in a sense.

On some level, the 279th build Caleb recognizes this idea himself, telling Frankie "Your father died long ago... Whatever I am...I've died before, this isn't so bad." But then he also speaks *as Caleb* not long after, telling her "I got to see my child grow up." and "I love you, Cookie." 🥺

I've said before that Caleb achieved something that no other version of himself was able to when he did this, in that he reunited with Frankie and then chose not to leave with her in the end. He is also more sure of who and what he is than his original was. So even though he's aware that his feelings are programmed, he still leans into them as though they are real (because they ARE real).

[its-queenofthesilence]

I Cannot Live Without My Soul! Part 4 of ?

Notes:

More drama, also good dad!bob.

Chapter 4: I'm Not Crazy

Megabyte was aware that the Guardian and his friends had escaped. Returning to the War Room in a daze had led him to pulling up the security feed and watching them argue about what to do before ultimately choosing to flee out the Core.

If he was in his right state of mind, he would go after them, cutting them off via vents before they could reach the exit. However, he was not in his right mind and instead he merely watched silently, lost in thought as his would be victims escaped his grasp.

His mind was still reeling from what had transpired. After the group left, he had changed the video from live to archived footage, bringing up the video of Andr- The Game Sprite and replaying it over and over again, watching the light go from her to him in silent thought.

What had she done? Had she infected him? Was she a virus?

He looked towards her on the video and tried to summon up the feelings of hatred and revulsion he had of her. Instead he found himself pulling up a video from the War Room mere moments prior to his grand reveal, sitting on the edge of the map table in the War Room, laughing and sipping Cocoa. He couldn’t help but smile at the way she brushed strands of hair out of her eyes.

His eyes instinctually lowered, trailing down her form. With a hum on his lips, he reached forward to press a few buttons on the vid-window, causing it to zoom in on her and allowing him to view her petite frame, in uh, fine detail.

She had a nice litt-

He let out a frustrated growl, slamming his fist against the console. This wasn't right, it wasn't supposed to be this way. Megabyte angrily shut off the video, not trusting his own senses and dug his claws into the console as a distraction from his mind and the “growing issue” between his thighs.

“What are you doing?”

Ah. He had almost forgotten about the Old Fool and the rest of his prisoners. Though heavily injured, Phong was unfortunately immune to his infection even as advance as he was now.

Megabyte never knew why exactly his infection seemed to do nothing for the old sprite when clearly Daemon (that left a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that another virus had tried and succeeded to take over his domain. And a woman to boot.) had. He could only assume the old food had a resistance to his particular strain of infection, much like one developed a resistance to an illness.

The old sprite was looking up at him from where he still laid on the floor, a look Megabyte could only be describe as disgust. It occurred to Megabyte that Phong, and the rest of them had probably just saw what he did. That was made evident by the confused expression on the boys face and what he was convinced was a raised eyebrow (if it was even possible) from the null.

"I should think it would be obvious, old man," Megabyte replied coolly, straightening up and forcing his features into a neutral expression. "I'm reviewing the security footage, trying to determine where the others have escaped to."

“I know you are many things virus, but I wasn’t aware you were a pervert.”

"Phong, you wound me," Megabyte replied, placing a clawed hand over his chest in mock offense.

“I may be a monster, but I am also a gentlemen. I was merely...analyzing the situation. You know how I like to have a thorough understanding of my enemies." he said, deflecting.

“Given what you tried to do to Dot, I think we both know you're capable of anything.” The old man hissed.

“Really now Phong, I know what you are insinuating but do give me some credit. I have some standards after all.”

Besides he would rather engage with a null before he considered exchanging codes with Ms. Matrix. AndrAIa on the other hand…

No! There it was again, those thoughts.

“Sir!”

Jerking around, caught of guard, Megabyte was poised to extend his tendrils towards the sudden voice when he realized who was speaking. Trotting in from the hidden entrance into the War Room, Herr Doktor and the rest of his lieutenants marched in, ready to do his bidding. He allowed himself to relax as he regarded his men.

“Good, you’re finally here. Take the old man and the Boy to the holding cells. I don’t care if you rough up Phong but you are under strict orders to keep them alive, even if the Boy is too annoying for his own good.”

“Yes sir!…and what if the boy acts out?” came the reply of Lieutenant Chancy. Megabyte gave a huff.

“Honestly, I am constantly surrounded by imbeciles. How many times do I need to repeat myself to you all? We do not harm children. Lock him up in a cell. If you can't handle a mere child without resorting to force, then you are even weaker than I thought. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”

The mustache faced binome gave a shaky salute in response, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his Lord’s wrath.

“Uh, yes sir!”

“Good, when you get back started arranging the rest of the troops. The Guardian and his friends have escaped but they will be back. I want every square inch of this place defended, do you understand? No one gets in. And have someone prepare my bed chambers.”

With a flourish of his hand, Megabyte watched with a disinterested gaze as his lieutenants began roughly escorted Phong and Little Enzo to the holding cells, the old sprite grumbling and the boy shouting childish taunts the whole way. He briefly considered sending the Null with him, but he wanted to torment the thing.

He paused for a second, a thought occurring to him.

“Wait, Herr Doktor, I need you for something else. I am sure the rest of the idiots can manage an old man and a child.”

"Of course, mein Herr. Vhat do you need?"

Megabyte glanced away for a moment, trying to formulate the words, his clawed finger tracing his chin. "I need you to run a full diagnostic on me. There seems to be...a glitch in my programming that I need to address."

"A glitch, vas meinen Sie?"

“Don’t worry about it. I just need you to check for any anomalies in either my code or with my brain.”

“Mein Herr?”

Megabyte wheeled around on the balls of his feet, boring holes into his head before speaking coldly and with intent.

“I believe I gave you an order Herr Doktor. Just run the scan, or perhaps I should find a replacement.”

“…Ja, mein Herr."

After escaping through out the sewers, the group had quickly exited out into Baudway, surprising a mother walking by with her child, earning them a look of contempt. Finding somewhere to regroup was not hard. After Megabyte took over the city last time and after the city was restored, it was quickly established they should have a backup base should they need it.

Unlike the temporary quarters they had inhabited during the last fight with Megabyte (after he forced them to a retreat), they now had access able to a fully operational base with enhanced security measures and even accommodations, should they require them. Unfortunately, Megabyte was likely to know about it given that he had been informed of it’s existence when he was masquerading as Bob.

Regardless, it would have to do in the mean time.

Either someone had gotten a word out, or they had suspected something was wrong, because a good portion of the System Officers were already waiting for them when they arrived, both hesitant and relived when seeing them. Instantly, they got to work as they all knew a full-fledged war would be on them.

There was hope they could contact the Collective for help, Bob now admitting to himself and to the rest of his friends that they had run out of choices. That hope was quickly dashed when they tried to open an external vid-window and realized Megabyte had taken the system offline, preventing outside access to Mainframe. Even his keytool, which could usually bypass restricted access to contact the supercomputer was not able to connect.

They would learn later that the Wifi port had been blown up, rendering outside help impossible. That left them to fend for themselves, but in the mean time…

AndrAIa was not right. She had not been right since her encounter with Megabyte. Mouse didn’t want to break her trust by saying anything but this was too big to hide. Not when she was acting so weird. Splitting AndrAIa off from the group didn’t turn out to be hard, once Dot instructed her to help with the medbay and any incoming patients, should the need arise.

Usually she would put up a fuss, wanting to be in the main action. Mouse knew from many nights of listening to her drunk at the bar, that AndrAIa struggled with being seen as anything other than Enzo’s girlfriend or as an outsider (That part was on Bob really, for his genius idea to give a seminar on the dangers of Game Sprites the same day she arrived in Mainframe.) and had a tendency to push back when relegated to the role of the support. Today however, she gave no such response and silently walked off to help the binomes taking stock of the medical supplies they had access to.

As soon as she was out of earshot (which was hard to gage due to her expanded range of hearing.) Mouse waited no time telling the others what she had seen.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa - hold up a minute. What do you mean something happened between AndrAIa and Megabyte?" Matrix asked, his cybernetic eye flaring to life, hands shaking in anger. She almost instantly regretted saying anything, Matrix was quick to anger, especially when it concerned AndrAIa.

“If he hurt her in anyway, I swear to User….”

"Easy there, sugah," Mouse said, placing a hand on Matrix's arm. "I don't know exactly what happened, but something definitely went down back there. When Megabyte had AndrAIa pinned, there was this...light. It came from her and went into him. Afterwards, they both just kinda froze, starin' at each other. And when we got away, 'Dre was a mess. Cryin' and tremblin' like I ain't never seen her before."

Matrix's jaw clenched, his cybernetic eye whirring as he fought to control his rage. "That slime-sucking virus better not have laid a hand on her."

"That's just it, sugar. He...he didn't. He just kinda stood there, like he was confused.” She chose not to mention the other look on his face, she was still trying to figure that out for herself.

“And you didn’t ask her what happened?!?”

“Of course I did! That’s the first thing I asked once we were safe. She just kept saying it didn’t happen.”

Bob frowned, tapping his thighs out of nervousness. By now AndrAIa was out of sight, but he still found himself looking towards where she had went. "I think we need to leave it for now. Whatever happened, it's clearly shaken her up. Pushing her to talk about it before she's ready could do more harm than good."

And because he knew what she was like. She had changed so much from the little girl that had come into his care. But somethings were still the same, such as shutting down when she was stressed. It took so many sleepless nights get her to open up to him about her past; things he had been sworn not to say, even to Enzo. But even so, he knew she kept some of her past shrouded in secret.

Dot pursed her lips, torn between giving AndrAIa space and needing to get to the bottom of what happened. "Bob's right. We shouldn't push her, but we need to figure out what's going on. If Megabyte did something to her..." She trailed off, her expression darkening.

The Wedding was still on her mind. And how could it not be? It had been that morning. Every second not moving or working was spent thinking about the What-Ifs, if Bob had not arrived in time. If she had married that monster. And to think, maybe now another one of them had been targeted? It made her stomach churn.

Matrix clenched his fists, clearly struggling to restrain his anger. "I'm going to kill him, if he tried to infect her." he growled.

"Matrix, Sweetheart." Mouse paused to look him squarely in the eyes. "We don't know the full story yet. Let's not jump to conclusions."

"But-"

"Enzo, Mouse is right." Dot stepped forward, her expression stern. "We need to stay calm and focused.”

Matrix let out a frustrated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Fine. But the moment I find out that virus did something to her, I'm going to tear him apart."

“We understand…just give her the space. And I mean actual space Enzo, I know how you are. You’re practically itching to run after her and demand answers.” Matrix opened his mouth to say something, before shutting it tightly under the piercing gaze of his sister and her firm stare.

“…Fine.” he repeated.

AndrAIa found herself alone in the small medical bay, meticulously taking stock of the supplies. But her mind was a million miles away, replaying the events in the Principal Office over and over again.

It didn't happen, it wasn't real.

It didn't happen, it wasn't real.

She blinked back tears as she sat down on a crate of what appeared to be surgical masks, trying to calm her nerves.

“What did you think would happen? That you could lie forever?” AndrAIa's breath caught in her throat. The part of herself she tried to ignore always seemed to emerge at the worst moments, flooding her mind with insults and ridicule. It mocked her past and the intricate web of deceit she had spun, reminding her how easily it all could unravel.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you are so surprised. We both knew this was possible. In fact, it was guaranteed. What was the percentage they said? Of it not happening to us? Oh that’s right, 0.03%. What, you thought just because you were outside of the game, it wouldn’t happen?”

AndrAIa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the voice that tormented her. "No, no, shut up. This isn't real. It didn't happen, it's not real," she whispered feverishly.

"Oh, but it is real. You can't keep running from your past. From OUR past. What happened back there was very much real." The voice sounded almost amused, reveling in her distress.

AndrAIa couldn't take it anymore. "Shut up! Shut up!" She pleaded, trying to drown out the taunting voice with her own hands over her ears. "I never wanted this, I never asked for any of it!" If she was paying attention to her surroundings, she would have seen the gazes and stares directed at her as she dug her sharp nails into head in a desperate attempt to get it to stop.

“But this is such a grand occasion! We dreamed about this day for years! Of course, you hoped that it would be with Enzo but regardless, you should be celebrating. After all, it only happens once in a young Atlantian’s life!

“It didn’t happen, it’s not real, it-”

“-AIa”

“You can chant all you want, it doesn’t make it true. This is your fault, don’t you see? This is what you get for lying!” barked the voice.

"No, that's not true!" AndrAIa cried, shaking her head vehemently. "I never wanted to lie, I-I had no choice!"

“-DrAIa!”

"Liar!" the voice spat. "You always had a choice. But you chose to keep up the charade, to keep pretending when we both know what you really are. You’re a monster, an abomination, just like she said. I wonder what Enzo would think if he knew what you could do. Maybe I should tell him.”

“No!”

“AndrAIa!”

She realizes as hands grab her, her head feels wet. Why was her head wet? She blinks back tears as her eyes focus onto a kneeling Bob, who is desperately trying to push something against her forehead, causing her to hiss on contact as it burns.

It takes a moment but then she sees it’s a piece of rag, ripped off of something, stained red with blood. Was she bleeding? She reached up to touch her head, finding wetness on her fingers and pulling back to see the blood. As the fog clears, she realizes she’s on the floor.

Bob's concerned face came into view as he gently pressed the cloth back against her forehead. "AndrAIa, do you need to lie down?" He doesn’t ask her if she is okay, he knows she’s not. Because this is not the first time he’s found her like this.

But it is the first time Enzo has. Despite traveling together for nearly two decades, with only each other to lean onto, the renegade had never seen her like this. Not even close. He, and the others had been drawn first by her screams and then by the exclamations of help coming from the med bay. He had expected maybe to find Megabyte, standing over her form. Instead he found her claws deep in her own skull, writhing as she shouted at an invisible force.

Bob tries to swallow the lump forming. He knows that AndrAIa does not want Enzo to see her that way.

“Enzo, I need you to leave. Now. In fact, that goes for everyone.”

AndrAIa becomes aware of the faces staring at her, a little over two dozen binomes and vector sprites all looking at her with disgust and fear, taking steps back. She looks to her friends and she sees the same look.

(shewasamonstertheyknowtheyknow)

Matrix was taken aback by Bob's unexpected request, his eyes widening in a mixture of shock and confusion. "What do you mean? I can't leave! AndrAIa needs me!" He attempted to kneel down beside her, but Bob quickly stepped in front of him, shielding her from view as if he was protecting her from Matrix.

"Enzo, please. This isn't the time right now." Bob said, his voice low and serious.

"Bob, I am going to say this once. Move. Now." Matrix growled, his eye flashing dangerously. The golden eye began to spin as it glowed red, going into targeting mode.

“No.”

It was a stand off. Guardian against Renegade, an immovable force against an unstoppable object. “I’m going to give you five nanoseconds Bob.” The renegade said, pulling the gun from his side, raising it to Bob’s face. If he was scared, Bob didn’t show it as Matrix stared him down.

"Enzo Raphael Matrix, put that gun down this instant!" Dot's stern voice cut through the tense standoff, causing Matrix to flinch slightly. Her eyes were narrowed, all traces of the caring sister replaced by voice of an command-dot-com ordering her subordinate to step down.

"But Dot-”

"No buts!" Dot snapped. "Bob, take her to the sleeping quarters and get her wounds cleaned up. Everyone else, either get back to work or go about your business! I don’t know what you saw but forget about it! That includes you too Enzo.”

Enzo reluctantly lowered his weapon, hands still shaking with rage and glaring daggers at Bob as he gently helped AndrAIa to her feet and guided her out of the medical bay. He watched them go, not looking away until they disappeared around the corner and out of sight before stomping off.

Dot yelled after him, asking "Where are you going?!"

"I’m going to go shoot something!” he snarled over his shoulder. Dot let out an audible sigh, the days events weighing heavily on her.

“I need a vacation.”

Next | Previous | Beginning

[gratitudeavenue33]

Some Learn To Wear Mask!

Like They Won't Suspect You!

That Fam Bro Know!

When He Had To "Help Convince" Like Luis Never Helped Him?!

Common Pattern! Consult With Yourself!

When I See Others With Money? I Get Happy And Say!

See Abundance is Around! Flourishing! I'm Happy For Wealth!

Tony And Joel Never Hated, We Risen And Reigned On Yessss!!

The Entire Block To The Hood Community Eating! That's Ryders!!

As A Natural Result From The Love! No Tyranny Needed!

They Will Check Themselves! Amongst Themselves!

Like The Same Luis I Know?! Eric Called it...

So Beware! To Attack Your Life Image is To Literary Attack Ya Life!!

My Self Image is That of A Wealthy True Honest Man! I Live This...

Who Gifts! Who Protects! Who Looks Out! Who Cares For The Lands!

"Sure?! Him?!" This Enough...

And I'm Always Willing To Work For it! Everything Will Be Done... Met!

Then it's I'm More Then A Matrix Job Chore, Then Chill ?! I Continue!!

HashTag Self Work is True Work! 💳✌🏼

You Could Check Yourself? Breakfast is On Me! True Gaining 2024...

Respect in Values! I'm Wishing All of Humanity A True Breakfast!

Whatever Their Preference! For Me, It's The Breath of God...

I Be Fasting! Cravings Be Asking! Sunny Side Up! Over!Easy!

So I Discovered WholeFoods is A Vibe, I'm Back Up And Beyond!

Like Going Thru BloomingDales, Same Energy! in Grocery Wise!

🙌🏼

[bubski-mcboo]

Dreaming of a Jodie Whittaker/Sophia Di Martino Goddess.

Okay, so I keep having this recurring dream and I need to share it.

I'm about to start some sort of presentation to a very sparse classroom. The stuff I've studied never really required any presentations, so this was new territory for me.

The classroom I'm in looks vaguely like one that was in use at Bournemouth and Poole College, only it has no windows.

I'm getting super stressed out about the presentation, which I'm woefully unprepared for, so I go to an adjoining room to work on it.

It is a dorm room belonging to me, also with no windows and with American prison vibes, but not something I worry about.

Everything has a green tinge to it as if we're in the matrix or the good omens version of hell.

(For the record, I don't think you *can* upgrade perfection like Jodie Whittaker or Sophia Di Martino.)

Then an older (but stunning) woman with an athletic build and a blonde bob comes to calm me down. She's probably only thirtyish but I think I'm probably late teens/early 20s in this dream.

Even though awake me doesn't know her, dream me does. She's on the staff at this imagined educational facility, almost certainly a teacher/lecturer. So clearly, she is 10000% my type, like an upgraded Jodie Whittaker/Sophia Di Martino with a touch of authority.

I'm writing a supporting character who seems a bit like her actually, only she's a gardener, not a teacher. Maybe a "mentor" figure.

When I wake up, she's asleep, and suddenly I realise that I need to cook something amazing for this goddess who is asleep in my bed even though I've just come out of surgery (apparently. I've fully recovered IRL.)

Anyway, this woman is calming me down, and then I realise that the vibe here isn't professional, it's friendly. Then it morphs from friendly to intimate - but not exactly sexual, although that boundary is wafer thin. I get nervous for non-educational reasons, because this woman is waaaay out of my league, and yet she's giving me strong vibes. It's as if she thinks we're already in a relationship and forgot to tell me. Not that I mind.

At this point, that green tinge to everything is gone. She convinces me, without words, to snuggle down on my bed, and obviously, I'm super-duper okay with that.

So I vault into my kitchen, which is apparently joined by a window and not a door, just as Jodie Di Martino gets a phone call that sounds more like an alarm. The volume is so loud that I hear the entire conversation;

Phone: "Hello, we need your password to complete your request for - "

Blonde goddess: "Oh right, you still remember me from the tower-"

Phone: *interrupts with urgent yelling*

BG: "Yeah, yeah, it's *****" (a username I used at school)

It's at this point I wake up, feeling very concerned that I'd left this remarkable woman in a Fallout 4 sort of situation with sub-par food that I hadn't even had time to cook for her. My last sleepy thought is, "But she can look after herself," and a part of me knows that she can kick ass, even though I don't know how I know.

I don't find this strange, still intent on cooking for this wonderful woman; which tracks because its one of my love languages.

For some reason, I'm looking in the cupboard under the sink, which isn't somewhere I store food items.

The kitchen looks vaguely like my ex's parent's old kitchen (second boyfriend), except it looks rather rusty and abandoned.

I realise the only food I have is baked beans in rusty cans - the label on them is the old white "tesco value" brand which was a callback to impoverished living at the end of secondary school - though I've never let a kitchen nor tins of food go rusty like that. I suddenly felt like I was in a post-apocalypse situation

After waking up, I realise I've seen this woman before in many other dreams. Every time, she's pretty keen on snuggling even though that isn't a thing she generally does with people.

[thatguywiththetumb1er]

Weird response but I think this article (in combination with some learned experience) is what has fully convinced me of The Matrix being a metaphor for gender. If you're happy with your role, if you feel some part of you is satisfied, you're not gonna question it. Maybe that's for the better, maybe that's for the worse, but you are gonna life your life accepting what is told at face value and using your precious precious spoons for literally anything else.

But if you're not satisfied, if something doesn't fit... hell if you're like me and you're like genuinely 90% sure you're cis but the way that gender roles work in society just steams you like a Connecticut Cheeseburger... well once you look beyond the veil you can't go back. Once you start examining yourself and the world around you you can't STOP thinking about it.

We live in a world that has made everything gender whether we like it or not and that's WEIRD.

...

Anyways, I'm gonna see Barbie tomorrow. Oh golly gee willickers this is gonna be a time I can feel it now.