#is this what human connection feels like?

[smollsmule]

Ok my queue spit this out after I saved it for later, so let me add some nuance here. Because this is a very importand issue, actually.

Of course nobody is prohibited from readin the books they enjoy. Hell, I like me some easily digestible fluff too! Some of my favourite book series are ya (and genuinely great books despite being “easy to read”).

There is something to be said however about limiting yourself to only engaging with that level of difficulty in reading. And before you come at me, I know that many people don't read at all and to many others reading is simply a hobby to unwind after a long day, where they just wanna turn their brain off and have some fun. Which is a totally fair reason to read. BUT. Reading (or more broadly, literacy) will never be just that. You live in an age of (mis)information and you WILL be confronted with texts (speeches, video clips, what have you) that are hard to dissect. Especially the ones that don't seem like it at first glance.

Media literacy is not only about how quickly you can summarise a paragraph or being able to pull quotes to show how maybe a character could be read as queer (although both of those things are a very good indicator of having advanced literacy). It's the VITAL skill of filtering and assesing information presented to you before so you can make an informed choice to internalise or discard it. It's being able to understand the information in the first place by grasping a complex thought presented to you in writing or in a speech because the simple truth is that not all truths are simple.

Media literacy gives you the ability of identifying that someone is trying to make you believe something and parsing why they're doing it by identifying the tools they are using. Which means you also need to know the tools they have at their disposal. It also means being able to connect points brought up before in the same or different texts to see if there is inconstencies or leaps in logic or if the argument someone is making only looks good because they use big words and a sentence structure that “feels” smart, but actually falls apart as soon as you poke at it a little.

Forgive me sounding alarmist, but if you can't read at that level people who have these tools WILL have power over you and you won't even have the tools to notice that they do. Even if people are not actively trying to harm or manipulate you, if you're unable to engage with their ideas you will get left behind in certain vital discussions and that not only feels like shit because everybody gets it but you, but it also again makes you incredibly vulnerable to those who do have bad intentions!

Now does that mean you only get to read Proust from now on? Of course not! I still do believe that a piece of literature can directly and fundamentally change your life. I know it has for me. However, that is a personal opinion and it doesn't mean I can force anyone to engage with deep philosophical manifestos on what it isto be human in this world. And even less that I want to do that, despite me thinking that literally ANYONE could benefit from reading that kind of thing. But you NEED to be able to read complex texts outside of your comfort zone for honest to god survival. I am so fucking serious.

And, hey! The good news is that this is not some secret mystical power you either get blessed with or not. It is a skill you can train, by reading challenging material. Books with more complex sentence structures, more nuanced ideas or arguments. Books that force you to think about them. I hate to say it but the only way to get better at reading is to read. It doesn't have to be fiction but i will be very real with you, I doubt that - if you're putting down a book because it's unreadable to you based on the chosen perspective - you'll be the type to pick up scientific essays or anything like that.

Don't cut yourself off from vital skills by locking your mind in a box. You are capable to handle those more complex texts, and I'd wager you'll even enjoy it once you find your niche (yes! you still get to have preferences!). You just need to give yourself a chance to learn.

[keferon]

*thwack*

Get his ass!

*insert about the cruel indifference of the universe vs the indomitable human spirit, idk*

————————

Prowl watched Jazz wrap his discolored torso with some sort of cloth type bandage, fascinated by the way the injury seemed to mimic the injury that Jazz’s… mech… had taken during the battle just breems before. The first time that Prowl had gotten to watch Jazz patch himself up, he had hovered worriedly and awkwardly. At the time, he had only just learned a few cycles before that his closest friend was an organic who piloted a mech-like body as a weapon, and not the mech itself.

Jazz had babbled on and on about how his mech could take serious damage and he would be fine, but sometimes the “DRIFT” connection between organic and machine meant that some wounds transferred over to the organic body. If Jazz took a blow to the helm and lost it, he wouldn’t have to worry about dying, but he would have a helm-splitting headache afterwards. Apparently, it had something to do with the cerebral connection that was needed to pilot such a large piece of machinery like it was an extension of your person. Some kind of unethical science that definitely would have had some bots going to jail if Jazz were Cybertronian. It reminded Prowl too much of Shockwave.

When the Praxian had expressed his discomfort at the slight connection he had made, Jazz had given him a small sad smile. The words that Jazz spoke in reply would probably haunt him for deca-cycles.

“When we were invaded, what was and wasn’t ethical kinda got thrown out the window. We were losin’ cities everyday, our population was dwindin’, either due to the Quints or due to civil unrest. Humans… we ‘ave short lives compared to you guys. But we love’em. Threw all our cards into one basket, and prayed. Monsters to fight Monsters was the propaganda they spread when I was growing up.”

Prowl’s optics dimmed lightly as he watched Jazz stretch upwards, pulling at the bandages and heavy bruises. The human made a slight groaning noise as bones popped from the stress. He turned to look up at Prowl, spinning a-top Prowl’s desk to give him a wide and mischievous grin. Prowl snorted faintly, watching his friend with a fondness in his EM field that he knew Jazz couldn’t feel.

“They never said anything about wha’ the Hunter Program does to the pilot. Only that when ya signed up, ya got a mech matching your specific specs and the opportunity to go slay monsters. Sometimes the mech was prebuilt, from a pilot who died and left their mech still intact, and sometimes you got your own personalized one. The mech itself though… they were never the unethical part of the program. It was all the serums and shit that they stuffed into me to ensure I’d survive the DRIFT process. I… I remember being tied down to a med-bunk and… and just flashes of horrific pain.”

Jazz walked up to Prowl, still grinning, preening almost like a turbo kitten. The Praxian laid out his servo so Jazz could crawl aboard, being mindful of his organic friend. He lifted Jazz up to his shoulder, relaxing as Jazz tucked himself in close, humming softly as he settled in the take a nap on Prowl’s shoulder. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered a bit.

“Yer not wrong. That what we did to survive was unethical, probably inhumane. But… humans… we hate losing. We do unspeakable things when given the right motivation. For some it’s love, loyalty, family, country, pride, greed. I’ve seen pilots pull themselves from their mech’s corpse, waving a gun at the jaws of a monster, whilst missing an arm and half their face. I’ve seen doctors tie down rookie pilots and pump them full of drugs and serums, watch them scream and plead for mercy, watch them die when it’s too much for their body to handle, so that pilots don’t die the minute they try to DRIFT. Yer not wrong. Humans can be vile and cruel and outright terrible, but we can also strive for peace and love and kindness. It’s that, that makes us survivors.”

Jazz’s humming fell quiet as he fell asleep against Prowl’s neck, causing the Praxian to relax slowly back into his office chair. He looked up at the data pad that Knockout had given him, containing Jazz’s full medical checkup. The list of everything in near critical condition for his species was… alarming. Jazz had said he felt fine during the checkup. Knockout’s reading said differently. Knockout’s readings said Jazz was dying. That Jazz had been dying for years.

Jazz knew he was dying and wasn’t moving to fix it. Because pilots have their life for their planet, and pilots had a set expiration date.

Jazz had accepted this date.

Prowl had never been so angry.

“An expiration date” made me silently stare into space for a while. Hoooly shit….

[fishnapple]

Things people secretly find attractive about you

This reading is about the hidden thoughts of people, about what they secretly find attractive about you. This is entirely subjective, some of these can seem questionable or hard to understand but the human psyche is complex, the root of attraction can lie in unexpected places.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ONE

Some of the people who find you attractive might have a saviour mentality and a serious personality, they gravitate towards someone who they think is in trouble, sad about life or is a little impractical. I'm not saying that you have these traits, but those people seem to pick up some of your behaviours as signs of these traits.

Some people perceive you as outspoken, you have no trouble saying what's on your mind, your words are direct and to the point, they carry force in them. This can seem aggressive to them. But this is not the kind of being attracted to something strong but more like being attracted to the hidden weakness behind that strong exterior. They think that behind your assertive demeanour is someone insecure, someone who hasn't found their footing in the world yet. They are attracted to that thought, the thought that you're trying to put up a front, trying to be brave. This makes them curious and want to see the insecurities that you're hiding, and to do what? They would want to guide you, they think you need someone to act as a teacher to you, someone you can look up to, and they want to be that person.

Your voice is also attractive to some ears, your choice of words is extensive and have a poetic touch to it. Or you don't talk much and some people find that attractive, they feel that you leave space for others to talk and express and you're not judgmental about it. Some will like having deep philosophical discussions with you. You also have different and unique hobbies and whenever you talk about them, you seem so animated and excited, an intense passion can be felt, and that makes people gravitate towards you like moth to flame.

Some people also feel that you can be quite naive or impractical sometimes, they find this endearing, like seeing someone being protected from the harsh reality of this world. They might project a part of themselves on you. Some of them could have experienced a difficult childhood that didn't give much space for them to be carefree or feel protected. So they look at you and see these traits that remind them of a distant longing for a better childhood.

The idea of being in a relationship with you will seem easy and natural. It's easy to imagine themselves taking care of you and having your attention to themselves. Your attention and affection are elusive and people want to catch a hold of these. Some will want to quickly jump in a connection with you, it would get intense very fast and burn quickly, attraction at first sight is very likely, this is not just about romantic attraction but also includes platonic attraction.

TWO

I think people would immediately feel a sense of power coming from you, much like how our skin warming up when we are around a fire. This kind of powerful energy is dynamic, all-encompassing, intense, generous and bountiful. This attraction that people have towards you is not that secretive, some might feel reluctant to show it or talk about it openly because they feel respectful towards you, they can feel a little intimidated and will just silently watch you, occasionally drop a few compliments when they are feeling brave enough. You know how sometimes people see someone so amazing and awesome but keep their distance and not express appreciation for them, for fear of stating the obvious, they would think that this person probably gets a lot of compliments everyday already so they won't be bothered with them? Some people are like that towards you.

Some people will quietly admire your daring and sometimes reckless spirit, the word daredevil comes to mind, with it comes the attitude of an adventurer. You are so brave and explosive, always ready to explore new horizons, always know how to have fun. Timid and quiet people might secretly find these traits so attractive about you but also feel that you are a little dangerous or too forceful for them. It's not physical violence but it's the speed of you doing things, the energy you put in every action, they feel like they can't quite keep up with that. But it's sexy to them. It's intense and it can bring both order and chaos to wherever you go. This energy is like electricity, it can evoke wild reactions in people.

You smile and laugh a lot? People find your smile and the sound of your laughter attractive, it's warm and contagious. You don't just laugh a lot, you also make people laugh a lot, they like your humour, it's carefree, jovial, sometimes it comes as exaggerated boasting, sometimes it's ridiculous, sometimes it's so humble. It shows a healthy ego with enough boundaries and respect. They can see your humbleness as a sign of strength, you're so confident in yourself and so strong that you allow yourself to be soft and be a fool to elevate people's spirits.

Others will be secretly attracted to your intelligence and wisdom. You seem like someone whom they can look up to and learn from. Younger people really like you, they see you as a role model, someone who knows their own path and is dedicated to it. Some will assume you're really successful and have it all. They wonder if you have an inner calling, a spiritual belief that guides your life, because you seem to abide to a certain rules, some strict regimes and they're curious about it.

THREE

The word "wholesome" just immediately came to my mind. You have a very stable aura that makes people think you have your life all figured out. They might even think that your life is so different from them, so trouble-free, peaceful or exciting, anything but similar to theirs. But that doesn't alienate you from people, they actually like this about you. Like how cat videos restore faith in the world for some people. When they see your life, they get inspired to strive to do good with their life.

Your energy is both fast and slow, steady but active. You have no trouble standing your ground, putting down your foot. You can be very cautious and deliberate when investing in something, whether with your energy, your time, your resources, your emotions. But when you see the chance, the most effective path opening, you don't hesitate to take the action, almost like you have an angel or a wise counsellor behind your back who will give you encouragement to go forward. You are not a reckless gambler but a wise one.

Some people feel very safe and secure when they are around you, you feel like a teddy bear, a shelter to them. Because you are generous when you've decided that someone is worthy of your effort. You don't do things half-heartedly, your determination and devotion are very attractive in people's eyes. This can also mean that some people are quite dependent on you, emotionally, and they hate to admit it, I sense that some of them are quite proud and independent, so the notion that they're dependent on someone does not sit well with them.

You also have an amicable energy, people can sense that you won't get angry easily, you don't take out your ego and wave it at their faces. You talk only when it's necessary and don't demand attention. You seem like a humble person who doesn't complain when things get hard and just focus on solving the problem without expecting applause and praises. People who have a more dominant and fiery personality might find this attractive, as opposites attract. Some can view this as you can be ordered and are obedient, which boosts their ego a lot.

While some people wonder, if you truly are that humble or you're just good at hiding your desires and drives, they might think that you have something to hide, you're not comfortable showing your true self and just go along with what others deem good and nice. Would there be another person who is wild, ambitious and fierce behind your gentle image? Some might want to poke, to push you to see a more aggressive reaction from you. Another kind of people can view this energy as you being detached and aloof, like you don't have the time or energy to care. They secretly find this "unavailability" attractive, it shows you have standards and act accordingly to your own rules and set of beliefs. You seem to elicit a wide variety of opinions from people. If all of them were to have a meeting and voice their thoughts about you, it would make a long list. But they all will have to agree that you are unshakable from your resolution once you set your eyes on a goal.

FOUR

This group is a little similar to the previous group, both have strong earth energy with a hidden element. But your group is more youthful, the energy, at first glance, is softer and more playful. The similarity of the two groups is that people perceive you to be in alignment with your soul's desire. You seem to be living a full life. People look at you and feel the liveliness, the joy of living. Like a child beginning to step out to the world, who hasn't been disillusioned by the ugliness of reality yet. People secretly think you are naive and innocent, a little erratic or unpredictable, but you're not lost, you know where you are going, with a purpose, like a ship heading towards the lighthouse. You make people feel like they should act benevolent to you, because you deserve that treatment. To the people who already have children, you sometimes remind them of their own child, subconsciously. They would want to protect you and see you bloom and prosper.

You have an oblivious attitude towards worldly achievements that people secretly wish they can adopt it themselves. You focus on your self development but you don't put too much weight into being conventionally successful like having a good career, earning lots of money, being famous, almost like you're tired of that. Maybe you're well-known to a certainly extent in a community and some people can be a little envious of that, they may wonder how can you garner attention so easily like that, even when you don't do much, aren't active or just keep to yourself, but fame still finds you.

Your appearance shows that you're taking good care of yourself. You have a neat and simple style that people like. It suits your perceived manner, mild and stable. You notice little details and create a pleasant atmosphere and environment around you. Some people who work with you find these traits really attractive, they could develop a quiet crush for you.

You could have some small obsessions that people who are observant enough will notice. They intuitively sense that you are trying to establish a certain order in your life, a certain routine to balance out the inner emotional turmoil. It's like a storm is raging outside so you try to focus on organising the house to feel safe and distract yourself from the storm. This will attract people, some people are just really attracted to emotional depth and complexity. The more contradicting a person act, hinting a hidden landscape underneath, the more they are attracted.

You can be quite serious when it come to learning, this is where your determination shows itself the most. Teaching you is a delight, but can also come with heavy pressure, you don't want superficial knowledge, you want to go to the depth of things, analysing then committing the information into your memory. This, in turn, can also make you an excellent teacher, but you can be a little stern, surprisingly. You can seem young, but in some areas, you are so serious and committed, you seem like a wise old soul.

FIVE

I pulled only 3 Tarot cards for the previous groups, but your group demanded another one, apparently so many people have so many different opinions about you.

Your energy seems so red and fiery, like a burning fire. There are lots of moths flocking to your flame. They know they would "die", but they just can't help it. I can see that you have a lot of admirers, the majority of them are secret admirers though. There's something about your energy that makes people turn inward and become a lot more quiet and introverted than they normally are. They're contented to just keep a distance and admire you from a far. Have you ever see the process of an artist making their artwork? They are so focused in their own world, they emit an intense aura that keep the audience quiet and holding their breath, the people around them don't dare to disturb that creative process. Some people feel like that with you. You have a creative energy that can touch people, it's both very vulnerable but also strong, something that just is, without external shielding or masking.

People view you as someone who loves fearlessly, you have a reverence for love that borders on a religious feeling. It makes them question themselves, how can a human live so confidently like that, can they live like that too? is their life has a different meaning that they haven't thought of before? You are an inspiration to people, your flame is contagious, it spreads wherever it goes.

Those that are brave enough to approach you will like to talk and debate with you, you have a way to show your views clearly without eclipsing others. They admire your courage to defend your worldview and advocate for good courses. You might have a knack for rallying people, persuading people. People can easily be swept along your passionate energy.

Some believe that you have what it takes to be successful in this world. You have the talents, you have the will, and luck seems to follow you with each step you take. The phrase "Fortune favours the bold" can't be anymore apt than this. You have a balanced feminine and masculine energy that can attract people of different genders. To the world, when you need to accomplish something, you have no problem with exerting will power and strategies, to those close to you, you also hold a nurturing space for them. Some might perceive you as a good parental figure. Some will automatically assume that you're successful and rich, or you have someone backing you up. I will be honest, they're attracted to your abundance, the more lack they feel, the more attracted they are to you.

SIX

I wouldn't say you are shy or quiet, but you're reserved and just want to mind your own business. Your energy feels a little awkward and some people can notice that. Again, it's not exactly because of shyness, but more like a reluctance to come out of your own world. You might be a home-body or someone who prefer their private space a lot. If you can, you just want to stay in one place and live quietly, contentedly, but alas, you have to go out and interact with the world, and I do see some life circumstances that would force you to be out, to be more visible to the world. If you are a leader or someone with authority in the workplace, you will be a reluctant leader, but a good one nevertheless. This makes you seem more down to earth and relatable to many people.

You're resistant to disturbances and chaos. You want simple things, things that are essential for a good and tranquil life. A fresh meal, a walk on the beach, tea time with friends maybe enough to make you happy and feel fulfilled, also a heavy pocket full of money to prepare for rainy days. You're risk adverse, that's why you're always well prepared, stable and can shoulder lots of burdens. People can't help but feel peaceful and safe around you, they feel protected. That is, if they managed to get in your inner circle. You're selective of whom you interact and associate with. People like this pickiness of yours, it makes them feel privileged to be selected. You're picky but you're not stingy or haughty, everyone can still see that you're friendly and open enough.

As much as you always try to stay out of chaos, chaos seems to like you and follow you around. Some bizarre and unexpected events might happen that are totally out of your control. You life is somehow attached to invisible strings that pull and lead you to some pretty interesting experiences. Usually these experiences can bring positive changes into your life, if you're open to them. Those who witness these events will find them oddly fascinating. Magic seems to be real around you. You may have a strong manifesting power, whether you're conscious of them or not. You can literally create your reality through your power of imagination and words. So be mindful of what you are thinking and imagining.

[revelboo]

I want to shake your hand because, you have successfully turned me into a Starescream simp. I’m in love with him now 🙇😫

All according to the plan..

Everything Is Alright Pt 64

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Wings lifting aggressively, his servos are gentle as he moves your hair away from your face. Even now, he can feel that connection with you twisting through him. You’d passed out almost immediately and he’d been nearly unable to force himself to close the plating over his spark and sever that bond. It’s still there, but not as intense as it has been. It’ll always be there now and it’s a comfort. “Go away,” he growls, aware of Soundwave hovering nearby, worried. Judging what he’d done even though he hasn’t said a word of condemnation after.

• Venting in exasperation, Soundwave sets an energon cube near the Seeker. He’d mass shifted back after, mostly because Starscream had curled himself around you, denta bared and optics half mad. Spark bonded to you. At least partially. He’s not even sure if a full bond is possible with an organic, but the fact that there was something there for a spark to even bond to? It’s a hopeful feeling that spreads through him. “My quarters,” he growls back, pointedly nudging the cube closer. Because the sooner the Seeker can mass shift, the better. And you need to wake up soon, because Starscream’s mental stability hinges on you. He’d seen enough of the SIC’s thoughts to realize just how broken he is. How dangerous. But not only for the Seeker, your stillness tangles through him even though he knows you’re only sleeping. Your mind is quiet now and he misses the bright chaos of you, needs that noise in his processor.

• Watching the communications officer pointedly drink, he can’t deny his own hunger. The exhaustion though is gone for the moment. An effect of the bond? He’s not sure. It’s not like he’d ever expected to spark bond, he’d been bound by duty before the war and there’d been no one he trusted that much after. Guilt twists through him as he curls an arm more tightly around you, feeling the warmth of your breath against him. Can you feel the tether between you both? He’d bound himself more tightly to you without even asking, without giving you a choice or say. But he can’t regret doing it. “Who’d have imagined humans have a spark,” he murmurs, even though spark isn’t the right word. What he’s felt has been similar, but not the same. He still remembers the warmth and light of you seeping into him, wanting to wrap himself around it and protect it.

• Cheek resting on Starscream, you can feel the familiar hum of his spark against you and it soothes your sleepy confusion as you wake up. That sound is home and safety as you press your face against his throat and his palm slides down your back. Everything is a warm haze, as you remember what you did with Soundwave and Starscream both. It seems wrong that you’re allowed both of them, an oversight on behalf of the universe, because your greedy heart hadn’t been able to choose. Starscream’s servos cup your chin to tip your face up and his worried optics search your eyes. You’re aware of Soundwave back to his normal size watching over you both. “How do you feel?” Starscream asks, raspy voice barely more than a whisper as if he doesn’t want Soundwave to be a part of this conversation.

• When you open your eyes and your mind whispers through him, tension he hasn’t even realized he was carrying eases. Because he had been worried the Seeker had broken you trying to steal something you hadn’t been willing to give or understood you could give. Feeling the wrongness of not offering you a choice to bond, not explaining anything, just taking. He understands the impulse, but it’s still wrong. Selfish. Even if it guarantees your safety from Starscream.

• “Sleepy,” you reply, but under that, you feel good. More relaxed and happy than you’ve been in a long time. There’s a feeling of something missing nagging at you, but you can’t pin it down. Just that you want to be here in his arms, want to be close to the hum of his spark, because it’s where you belong. His servos release your chin and you lay your head back down against him, lifting a hand to press against his chassis. That hum pulls at you, coaxing and familiar. Home.

Previous

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[meshaamem-li]

yeah sure, because y'all never used the free tool that mimicks human dialogue because instead of talking to a Human Being or using google.

googling "how to do groceries" isn't going to give you any productive results, your parents aren't always gonna be available to baby you or they might have never been there for you, and yeah some people are not good at preplanning this shit when they also have a full time job and have to pay bills and take care of a million other stuff, asking chatGPT how to manage groceries is better than surviving on instant ramen and takeaway (like how boomers used to make fun of college-aged millennials)

sometimes you have no clue where to start searching for a topic, so you either make a post on social media asking complete strangers for guidance (hence the Reddit forums) then double check it to make sure you didn't get answers from an idiot, orrrr you use the Free Tool that might have some sort of information on it and then double check it to make sure it didn't hallucinate.

have trouble summarising shit? I used to have a friend who was better at writing than me while I understood the materials of the lesson better, so we covered each others' weaknesses whenever we studied together, I'd help them learn and they helped me summarise (not exactly, and we didn't study a lot together, but kinda). I may have failed creative writing but I did pass my physics exams.

use... a fucking calculator.... why do you need a language model to be a calculator.....

chatGPT is free and it's convenient especially if you don't have friends and if a search engine has trouble giving you results. is it still a fucking language model that's pushed everywhere and is a massive problem? yeah. should you avoid it? absolutely. but it's also inevitably helping all these people, as long as they don't over-rely on it and learn to develop their skills, its not harming anyone.

we dreamt for years about personal assistants and intelligent robots. Siri was always meant to be AI powered eventually, all of these futuristic movies where they ask the computer to do something and it answers like a person is AI, this is the direction people wanted to go towards for DECADES, and now you're surprised it helps people with little things that they probably could've done on their own? it's its entire point of existing!

the problem with chatGPT is that it's used to replace people in the ART FIELDS where HUMAN CREATIVITY is key, used to replace HUMAN CONNECTION with apps like character.ai when it CAN'T ACTUALLY FEEL, and that it's being presented as a DATABASE that knows FACTS when it DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER "I don't know" or provide proper sources for what it "knows". that and the fact it was illegally trained on data that - while public - was still owned by hundreds of thousands of people.

[accio-victuuri]

read a book for me. 📚

inspired by people who were curious about the books featured in xz’s video, let’s take a look at what they are. i’d like to think these were pre approved by XZ and are related to his interests. i’m not removing tge possibility that one of these were chosen by someone from xzs or the director himself. i’m tagging this as cpn because there will be some cpn. if you don’t wanna go that route and just enjoy learning about the titles featured, then go ahead. 😉

1. Restoration House by Kennesha Bucks

You don't have to live in your dream house to make your living spaces feel more like home. Home is meant to be a place to belong. A place to gather and connect. A place of beauty. A place to restore your soul. In Restoration House, author and designer Kennesha Buycks will encourage you to embrace your home and your story so you can create mindful spaces that give life to you, your loved ones, and all who enter.

2. LORI WILDE

that red book just says the author’s name and no actual title but if you look her up, she’s all about that romance novel. here is her website if you wanna know what i mean. if you move a bit, the spine of it says “boy” so i think it maybe one of those books that has the cowboys in it!

3. Next is LIT UP, which is a black book. I’m not so sure if it’s a real book and when you search it, there are a couple of contenders. Tho i personally gravitate towards p2 since it’s black and the plot of the story is something i think XZ will enjoy!

it says out of the cubicle and into the real world, it’s like him getting out of his work cubicle years ago and discovering the world.

book overview:

Eddy Gilmore found himself on society’s fringe after being exiled from Corporate America. Despite years of higher education and exemplary service inside a cubicle’s pixelated world, he had no tangible or transferable skills to offer his community. Amazingly, failure was the door into tapping dreams and gifts that had long been ignored as impractical.

This true to life adventure is a pilgrimage into the real world, a place where neighbors make and produce things that sustain life and bring joy. When their eyes were opened to the talents all around them, Eddy and his wife discovered how to produce value themselves, and sank roots into the community. By working together, they are building a life they might never need to retire from.

4. The Interior Design Handbook

Frida Ramstedt believes in thinking about how we decorate, rather than focusing on what we decorate with. We know more today than ever before about design trends, furniture, and knickknacks, and now Frida familiarizes readers with the basic principles behind interior and styling—what looks good and, most of all, why it looks good.

The Interior Design Handbook teaches you general rules of thumb—like what the golden ratio and the golden spiral are, the proper size for a coffee table in relation to your sofa, the optimal height to hang lighting fixtures, and the best ways to use a mood board—complete with helpful illustrations. Use The Interior Design Handbook to achieve a balanced, beautiful home no matter where you live or what your style is.

5. Limits of the Known

A celebrated mountaineer and author searches for meaning in great adventures and explorations, past and present.

David Roberts, "veteran mountain climber and chronicler of adventures" (Washington Post), has spent his career documenting voyages to the most extreme landscapes on earth. In Limits of the Known, he reflects on humanity’s—and his own—relationship to extreme risk. Part memoir and part history, this book tries to make sense of why so many have committed their lives to the desperate pursuit of adventure.

In the wake of his diagnosis with throat cancer, Roberts seeks answers with sharp new urgency. He explores his own lifelong commitment to adventuring, as well as the cultural contributions of explorers throughout history: What specific forms of courage and commitment did it take for Fridtjof Nansen to survive an eighteen-month journey from a record "farthest north" with no supplies and a single rifle during his polar expedition of 1893–96? What compelled Eric Shipton to return, five times, to the ridges of Mt. Everest, plotting the mountain’s most treacherous territory years before Hillary and Tenzing’s famous ascent? What drove Bill Stone to dive 3,000 feet underground into North America’s deepest cave?

What motivates the explorers we most admire, who are willing to embark on perilous journeys and push the limits of the human body? And what is the future of adventure in a world we have mapped and trodden from end to end?

6. Eat, Drink, Nap: Bringing the House Home

The quintessential style, cooking, and home interior book from Soho House, the world's leading members' club.

Since the first Soho House opened its doors over 25 years ago, we've learnt a bit about what works. Contemporary, global yet with something quintessentially English and homely at its heart, this is Soho House style explained by its experts:

- From planning a room to vintage finds: bringing the Soho House look home.

- Our House curator's advice on how to buy, collect and hang art.

- The art of a great night's sleep: how to design the perfect bedroom.

- No-fuss recipes and chef's tips: here's how to make your favourite House dishes.

- Inside Babington: our take on country-house living. Wellies optional.

- Flip-flop glamour and poolside style from Soho House Miami Beach.

- All the secrets of cocktail hour: House tonics and barman's tips.

- Spa treatment at home, DIY facials and chocolate brownies.

Eat Drink Nap, a 300-page highly illustrated book, with a foreword from founder Nick Jones, and photography from leading food and interiors photographers Mark Seelen and Jean Cazals, shares the Soho House blueprint for stylish, modern living, the Soho House way.

7. Styled

It’s easy to find your own style confidence once you know this secret: While decorating can take months and tons of money, styling often takes just minutes. Even a few little tweaks can transform the way your room feels.

At the heart of Styled are Emily Henderson’s ten easy steps to styling any space. From editing out what you don’t love to repurposing what you can’t live without to arranging the most eye-catching vignettes on any surface, you’ll learn how to make your own style magic.

With Emily’s style diagnostic, insider tips, and more than 1,000 unique ideas from 75 envy-inducing rooms, you’ll soon be styling like you were born to do it.

8. The other book i’m seeing is WINTER TID then it cuts off so again it’s tricky to confirm what it is! My best guess is WINTER TIDE but if you google that — i can’t connect how XZ will read that lol.

EDIT: adding this one seen from the alternate MV,

The Tale of the Body Thief by Anne Rice

is a vampire novel by American writer Anne Rice, the fourth in her The Vampire Chronicles series, following The Queen of the Damned (1988). Published in 1992, it continues the adventures of Lestat, specifically his efforts to regain his lost humanity during the late 20th century.

=========

now let’s look at the CPN.

i see fans saying the style related books could be because of his work before. but he is more of a digital and design artist right? he does logos and stuff that can help their brand identity. i don’t remember him being an interior designer. there is also the eat, drink, nap which has topics on cooking and being a good host. these books are making me clown so hard! my head canon is xz is keeping himself busy ( as if he is not busy enough already ) with designing their home. his and wyb’s — if that wasn’t clear enough, that’s what i’m insinuating. if he isn’t traveling, i would imagine he is the type who just wants to spend time at home in between jobs. it is their home. their sanctuary. so xz would make sure that it is according to what they both want and that it’s stylish.

and when he is at home sipping wine, while waiting for Bobo, is he reading a LORI WILDE BOOK? lol. sexy millionaire cowboy you say? 👀👀👀👀

😂😂😂😂😂

or reading something like the LIT UP book which is more up his alley ( but again i’m not sure if this is the exact title )

what is out of place is limits of the known. out of place compared to the theme of the other books, but xz is someone who is into nature and climbing of sorts. but i haven’t seen him climb the way yibo did in ETU. the most popular cpn is that this is yibo’s contribution to the selection. or maybe he read it after yibo and liked it. OR he is also becoming interested in rock climbing — which is not a far off possibility.

-END.

[indornaga]

The Animality of Humanity

i finally got a chance to sit down and listen to the new Nightwish album, and it hits the animal part of me just as hard as their other albums.

what is it about nightwish that makes me feral?

if you listen closely to their lyrics (especially these last three albums, but it applies to all of their albums) they talk a lot about the Human Experience(tm). but its not the human experience that we usually think of when we think of humans today--it's a lot of primal humanity, historic, from a simpler time and simpler way of life, from when humans struggled daily against the fickle whims of nature, against our fellow animals also trying to survive, and against their own instincts.

it took me a while to really listen to Human :|i: Nature because it sounds *so* human focused. every song is about human nature, as the title suggests, which put me off of it because it didnt feel like i could relate at all. but upon listening deeper, it tells the story of how humans are just as animal as any other. their music emphasizes the animality OF human nature, the capability of reverting to baser instincts in each human, of the human place in nature.

it took a few listens to really recognize it, but as a human with extra animal instincts, i was able to finally catch it: is it not animal nature to enjoy a good meal? for a social species to gather for a good cuddle and grooming? to come to the aid of a group member when in trouble? to scuffle with a threat, even if that threat is one's own species? to want progeny that carry on one's genes? it's certainly human nature to crave being in a natural environment, to see the trees and ground coverings, to see flowing water, the sky overhead. humans have a few extra instincts that dont seem it, but i also attribute to being animal; the love of music and song, and being storytellers. music and song is nearly universally loved. it awakens some sort of primal instinct in humans to move, clap, or sing along. storytelling has been used as a passtime for time immemorial, and again is nearly universally enjoyed. both of these are done with sounds; nonhuman animals use sound to communicate, and have been recorded to do sounds for fun as well. is that not what song and story telling are? communication?

early therian writings talk of doing totally human things to connect with their animality: taking hikes in nature, communing at gatherings, and most importantly, recognizing the animality in their human instincts.

we're lucky enough to be closer to the animal spectrum than most humans. but i think it gets forgotten about that humans are animals, and we tread a very fine line between the "sophistication" of humanity, and the ferality of animality. but that's the beauty of it; we're uniquely animal. we're something that our ancestors revered: how much of folklore is being in awe of or fearing nonhuman animals for their unique abilities?

i feel like that's what Nightwish's music really touches on, and why it's so good at awakening the ferality in me. also just the heavy guitar, drums, and the cadance of the songs hype up my primal predator brain lol i highly suggest giving them a listen. if only because the music is very feral.

[lunaroracleofvenus]

The Best Way You Can Spiritually Protect Yourself - PICK A PILE

What is Spiritual Protection? Spiritual protection is about being protected from what may harm us spiritually.

how we protects ourselves spiritually is very personal to one's own source of magic, ancestors, and spirit guides. let's divine to see what is your unique method of spiritual protection.

LEFT TO RIGHT

P1 -> P2

P3-> P4

Pile one

Tending to your emotional state is the best way to protect yourself spiritually. You might be a person that overthinks, procrastinates, and has a lot of anxiety. Anxiety and mental health is very human and very natural. You can protect yourself more spiritually by tending to these issues, nourishing yourself. it ‘s okay to have a bad day. It matters more how you bounce back. Connecting more to the divine will also amp up your spiritual protection. Whether that’s praying more to your god, ancestors, or spirit guides. Just pure connection will amp up your protection. Fill up your cup, and walk towards the dreams that exist within. If you ever feel you are unprotected spiritually, do something you enjoy or nourish your mind.

Pile two

Tending to the connection you have with your inner child is the best way to protect yourself spiritually. Moving forward with a more childhood innocence will protect you. You know the saying ignorance is bliss? Well, pile two ignorance is certainly your bliss in this circumstance. The energy of charting forward, with fierceness, strength, and faith is how you can best protect yourself spiritually. Embody this energy and mindset. The sun archetype is very strong in this pile. Strengthen your I AM, and solar plexus or even research more about Christ consciousness. This is an ethereal energy of confidence, strength, fierceness, and lightness. This energy feels good and makes me want to dance pile two lol. You might be the type to overthink spiritually, relax into the energy of spiritual ignorance. You do not need to know everything, and you won’t. That’s okay. Of course there’s balance, always do your research but not to the point of exhaustion, anxiety, and fear. You are most protected, and safe when you lean more into this child archetype spiritually. 

Eternal Beings - Gayathri Krishnan

Phenomenal -  Janelle Monae

Pile three

Stillness, contemplation and meditation are the best ways you can protect yourself spiritually. You might be bombarded with lack of progress, delays and obstacles. Attempting to force what does not fit. I am hearing you are being protected by these alleged delays, and to rest more. When you lean into this energy, things pan out better for you and thus you are more spiritually protected. You are getting the fruits of divine alignment and protection through stillness and introspection. Through apparent delays you are becoming stronger in mind and gaining greater patience. These attributes may be very important in creating more abundance for yourself. Do you have Saturn in the 2nd or 6th house? Anyway, just keep your mind focused on what you desire and relax. You will get what you want. This is only a saturnian delay. Where Saturn delays but never denies. So if you ever want to feel more protected spiritually, just stop and meditate. Go within. Perhaps visualize. 

Pile Four

You may need to check out pile one, there are some similarities here. You are spiritually best protected by breaking old traditions and doing what makes you happy. There is something here about family or ancestral traditions. You may need to break some toxic patterns or follow your own path spiritually. There is also a lack of stability here. You are best protected spiritually, by following your personal joys. Your unique path is divinely protected and ordained. You are enough. You are enough as you are, and your path doesn’t need to look like others. Your authenticity is self protection. Connect more to the moment, and connect more to yourself. Going outside and being in nature might be highly effective for your spiritual protection as well.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

The Tortured Fangirl's Department - My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

| Paul Lahote x human!reader

summary: Paul hates you, but imprinted on you. He's not happy about it. 🐺🌲⛰️🌧️

cw: violence, gore, toxic relationship, Paul being an asshole, drinking

an: forever #teampaul.

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You arrived in Forks on a research grant, studying Old Wood Forests for your Masters Degree in Environmental Science. As you conduct your research, you feel more and more at home in Washington, and immerse yourself in the local community and history.

The more you learn about the history of the Quileute Tribe and it's connection to the surrounding ecosystem, the more you dig, until eventually you uncover a secret never meant for human eyes.

The Quileutes are a pack of werewolves, living in secret on the Reservation.

Of course, they quickly figure out that you're onto them, and you're dragged into a harrowing trial with Chief Billy Black and the pack’s alpha, Sam Uley. After hours of deliberation, and you begging for your life, they decide to allow you to live on one condition: you remain in Forks and never publish what you've found.

You agree instantly, grateful to be spared, and the pack brings you into the inner circle, including putting you up in a small house on the edge of La Push.

All seems to have worked out swimmingly, until Emily invites you to the alpha’s home for a bonfire so you can formally meet everyone.

Paul Lahote was livid when he learned that Sam had spared you. An outsider, a traitor. If it was up to him, you would have long ago been forest food, their secrets safe within the soil.

Paul had never met you, but he didn't trust you, didn't like the way you weaseled yourself into his beloved family. You were good as dead, as far as he was concerned.

That is, until he walks into Emily's kitchen, finding you peeling potatoes at the table, laughing at some joke Embry told, and his world imploded.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Six months later

Whoever said imprinting was the world's greatest blessing was full of fucking shit.

Paul glared at you across the fire, nibbling on a s’more and nursing a beer as if you fucking belonged here. Those were his beers. The packs s'mores.

What he would really like to know, is where you got the fucking audacity.

“Think louder, would’ya?” Jacob teased, knocking his shoulder. “She figured out what was making the fern grove sick, she deserves a beer.”

Paul rolled his eyes, throwing back the rest of his beer and stomping off to the booze table. Who cares about fucking plants, anyways?

You flicked your h/c hair over your shoulder, the glossy waves reflecting the orange firelight. Seth cracked some lame joke and you burst out laughing, the sound like the first spring rain.

Pain bloomed in chest, an ache he felt to the marrow, and he had to grip the table to stay upright, had to look away from your pretty smile. A war waged within him. Make you laugh again, or ensure it's your final one?

The table cracked under his grip.

“Lahote,” Sam warned in his mind. “Easy.”

Paul eased his grip, tried to control his breathing, his anger. He'd worked so hard on managing his rage, he wouldn't let you ruin that progress.

You'd already ruined everything else in his life.

Carefully, he stepped away, ensuring the table wasn't about to collapse before sitting back down beside Jacob with a fresh beer. He should just go inside, or out on a patrol. Anything but sit here and suffer your existence.

But something rooted him to the log, periodically scanning the perimeter behind you to ensure nothing pale and sparkly lurked in the shadows.

If anything would have the pleasure of ending your little existence, it would be him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul seemed extra scowly tonight, his handsome face pinched in perpetual disdain.

You laughed a little louder at Seth's decidedly not funny impersonation of Sam, just to see Paul's frown deepen. And it did, his ire as predictable as a clock.

You knew he had imprinted on you, everyone within a ten miles radius knew he imprinted on you, but somehow, it only seemed to deepen his loathing.

If only they'd seen his face when he first saw you.

It was probably cruel of you to exploit his involuntary affliction, but you just couldn't help yourself. He just made it so easy. And it didn't help that he was hot as fuck when the claws came out.

You polished off your beer, enjoying the gentle buzz humming in your veins. A terrible, wicked idea popped into your head.

Moving towards the table, you snagged a bottle of whiskey, the one you happened to know was Paul's favorite, and poured yourself a micro shot. His dark eyes were already on you, glaring a hole into your back. Fighting a smirk, you slammed the shot back. You let out a small, deliberate moan as the alcohol burned its way through the chill lingering on your skin.

Every unpaired wolf perked up a bit at the sound, those whores, and you could practically feel the rage buffeting off Paul as he stared at you.

“You have a deathwish, girl.” Leah teased, offering you another shot. “I like it.”

You grinned up at her, accepting the liquor. Leah flinched then, her smile pulling into a grimace, and she took the shot back before you could drink it.

“You might have a deathwish, but I sure don't.” She swallowed the shot herself, patted you sympathetically on the shoulder, and returned to her spot by Seth.

The rest of the night, the pack continued to snatch drinks from you. You couldn't even sneak a sip, with their ridiculous hearing and sense of smell catching you as soon as the alcohol touched your lips.

Even Seth slapped a shot out of your hand.

“What the fuck!” You shouted at him, your buzz very nearly gone.

Seth winced. “His orders,” he said, tilting his head towards Paul, who was busy tearing into a turkey leg.

I think the fuck not.

You marched over to him, snatched his sweating, unopened can of beer off the table, and jammed your pocket knife into it. With a crack, you opened it and pressed your mouth to the hole, shot-gunning it in ten seconds flat.

A personal record.

As soon as you dropped the empty can onto the ground, you regretted all of your life choices.

Paul was on you before you had a chance to step backwards, one massive hand around your throat, the other gripping your pocket knife.

Terror lanced through you, and you watched his pupils dilate as he started down you, white teeth bared. It took you a moment to register that you could still breathe, that he wasn't actually hurting you. In fact, he'd been handling that poor turkey leg more roughly that he was currently holding you.

“Leah was right,” he growled, the sound raising the hair on your arms. “You do have a deathwish.”

“You don't get to control what I can and can't do,” you bit back, pushing your face closer to his to prove that you weren't afraid.

Even though you definitely were afraid, and a little aroused. But mostly afraid.

His nostrils flared when a pulse of desire made your pussy clench, but you couldn't find it in yourself to embarrassed. You knew you turned him on too. And it didn't help that your bodies fit together too right, a jagged pair of puzzle pieces.

“Paul, back off,” Sam ordered. The pack was frozen around you, afraid that one wrong move would result in you losing your throat.

Paul squeezed a little tighter, letting you feel the power he had in this moment. It would be nothing for him to crush your windpipe, to snap your neck.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath tickling the hair around your ear. “I think I can,” he whispered.

He took a step back, and as soon as his hand fell away, Jacob tackled him in his wolf form, creating several feet of space between you.

Paul shifted then, his grey wolf exploding from within, and knocked Jacob backwards. They began to fight in earnest, growling and gnashing as they tumbled through the grass.

Guilt killed the last dregs of your buzz, and your ego. Why did you have to push him? Nothing good could come of it, and it only made him hate you more.

You took off towards your house before the fighting could get any worse, kicking yourself for being so fucking stupid.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Y/n didn't come around for two weeks after that, except to go the store or the library. Paul would know, your house was his first and last stop on every perimeter check.

He'd been visiting even more the last week or so, your absence an unbearable itch under his skin. It was like missing a front tooth, a constant distraction, and he couldn't not prod at it, even though it hurt.

The feeling of your fluttering pulse beneath his fingers became the rhythm of his life. It was burned into his memory, the way you looked up at him, eyes round with fear, the smell of your arousal reaching like hands to squeeze his brain, lulling the beast in his mind to docility.

Every time he looked at you, he saw his forever. A forever of home cooked meals, laughter, warmth. A life that was stolen from him. A life he didn't deserve.

He refused to be domesticated. Especially not by a nosy, manipulative, stubborn little human like you.

It was better you stayed away. That was what he wanted this entire time. Wasn't it?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You couldn't not attend Jacobs birthday party, no matter how badly you wanted to avoid a certain dagger-eyed dime piece.

So you put on a bikini, wide-leg jeans, and an oversized quarter zip, and made your way to the beach. God knows why he wanted to have a bonfire on the beach in fucking October, but it's not like they got cold.

You and Emily would have to stick it out together. Hopefully Sam was considerate enough to pack a blanket.

Everyone was already on the beach, splashing in the frozen water or chatting around the fire. Seth spotted you first.

“Y/n!” He shouted, bounding over to you, shirtless and sandy.

“Are you insane?” You laughed. “It's like 40 degrees!”

“Aw, c’mere.” He wrapped you up in a bear hug, the heat of his skin chasing away the chill already biting through your clothes.

You buried your nose into his shoulder, the tip already numb. “Fuck you guys, seriously,” you mumbled.

Suddenly, Seth was wrenched away from you and you stumbled forward, into a tan brick wall of muscle.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Paul snapped, righting you on the uneven sand before quickly dropping his hands.

“My house?” You answered, quirking an eyebrow. Rarely did he ever address you this directly. Your pulse raced in your chest, terrified, thrilled to see him again. Did he miss me?

“Why?” He demanded.

You couldn't answer him. What were you supposed to say, that you were hiding from him? That you were embarrassed by your own desperation to be close to him? That you craved his attention, his touch, even if it was rough?

At every interaction, he broke you a little bit more. Left you rougher around the edges. But a part of you loved it, craved it. His passion made you feel alive.

“Got sick of your fucking attitude,” you said instead. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say hello to the birthday boy.” You pushed past him, trudging through the sand to Jacob, who was watching from the edge of the water with a bewildered expression.

You shirked your clothes as you went, not caring about the cold any more. Your loathing, your hunger, would keep you warm.

Down to your cherry red bikini, you threw your arms around Jacobs neck, pressing a loud, smacking kiss into his cheek. “Happy birthday, Jake!”

He kept his arms wide, chuckling nervously. “Thanks, y/n. I think the water is a little cold for you—”

“Don't care!” You sing-songed, releasing him and wading deeper into the water. It was definitely too cold for you, the bones in your feet already aching and tingly.

“Just don't get your hair wet—”

You dove into the water, the temperature knocking the air from your lungs, making your whole body clench in aversion. You popped up on the other side, splashing an arc of water at him. “I'll live,” you replied.

He shrugged, splashing you back, and you played in the water with other wolves until your lips started to turn blue, your body shivering too hard to stand upright.

“Y/n, out of the water!” Sam shouted from the shore.

“B-b-but I'm h-hav-ving f-f-f-fun!”

“Now.”

“I'm f-f-fin-n-ne!”

Suddenly, you were airborne, strong arms scooping you up out of the water with a thick blanket. You yelped in surprise, looking up to see Paul, still dressed despite being waist-deep in the water, bundling you into his chest with the blanket wrapped around you.

“H-hey!” You protested, a violent shiver making your teeth clack together.

“Another word and I'll drown you,” he snapped, tucking your toes against his scalding hot ribs as he carried you out of the water.

“F-f-fuck y-y-ou!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul held you close to his chest, your body shaking so hard it was difficult to keep the quilt tucked around you. Your lips were far too blue for his liking, and your teeth were chattering so hard he feared they might crack.

Jacob should have never let you get into that water—no, you weren't Jacob’s responsibility. You were his, as loath as he was to admit it.

You curled into him, the tip of your nose an icecube against his clavicle. “S-s-sorry,” you mumbled.

He looked down at you, shocked.

“For almost killing yourself? Why would I give a shit?”

You fell quiet again, and guilt stabbed him through the chest. He heard your heart rate begin to slow, the cold still taking it's toll. You were so frozen, steam was rising from his skin where you touched, leaving a trail as he carried you to the fire.

He set you down on a pile of blankets as close as he could get to the fire without burning your eyelashes off. He wrapped you up in a dry quilt, then another, and planted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his legs on either side of yours.

“W-what are you—”

“Not a word,” he growled. You were still shivering, your familiar scent tinged with salt water and traces of Jacob and Seth.

He fought against the jealous rage that stirred in stomach, instead focusing on your heart rate, your unsteady breathing.

The pack circled nervously, unsure if they should intervene. When Seth came a little too close, mumbling something about your clothes, Paul growled, a low, menacing rumble from his chest, and Seth scampered off.

The scent of fear spiked when he growled, and he found himself shushing you, burying his head into the blankets against the back of your neck. It was involuntary, acting on the urge to comfort you before he'd even processed it. But it seemed to settle you, so he remained.

It settled him too, the now rhythmic thump of your heart, your even, almost drowsy breathing.

“Can Emily give her a drink?” Sam asked a little while later through the mind connection, almost at a whisper so Paul didn't startle.

“Yes,” Paul answered, and a few moments later, Emily appeared, passing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

The chocolatey smell mixed with your scent was almost too much, so sweet and decadent. He was beginning to melt like the giant marshmallow on top.

“Hey,” you whispered after a few sips, your voice back to normal

He didn't correct you for speaking, his eyes closed as he wallowed in your scent like a dog in the mud.

“Paul.”

“Hm?” He grunted, lifting his head.

“I'm starting to sweat.”

Reality rushed back to him, shattering the haze in him mind. What the fuck was he doing? You fooled him, just like you fooled the rest of them.

He wrenched away from you, springing to his feet. Your scent was all over him, embedded in his skin, his hair. Driving him insane. You drove him fucking insane.

“Paul, wait.” You scrambled to your feet, dropping one of the blankets, flashing him a glimpse of your little bikini as you reached for him. Fuck, how did he forget your were in a bikini?

“Fuck off, y/n,” he snarled, and you staggered back.

“But—”

“The only reason I pulled you out of that fucking water because of you die, I do to. I don't fucking care about you, imprint or not. You mean nothing to me. You're better off getting that through your thick fucking skull.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, brutal and scathing, and he watched your heart break.

Maybe if he left you in a pile of broken parts on the fucking floor, he'd finally be rid of you.

The wolf came then, shredding the last of his humanity, and he took off into the woods, diving through bushes and trees to scrape your scent off his fur.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul left you there, broken on the beach. Sam and Embry followed him into the woods, but the others descended on you, concern clear of their faces.

But you shrugged them off and let Emily, Emily only, walk you home.

You cried yourself to sleep, confused, hurt, angry, devastated. You'd felt something when he held you, like he was holding all of your pieces together, whole for the first time in your life, only to smash you apart again.

You didn't understand, couldn't understand, what he was feeling. Why he was so against this connection that was between you. It's not like he could escape it. The imprint wouldn't magically vanish.

You were tethered together, for better or worse.

For the next several weeks, he avoided you like the plague. If you entered the same room as him, he would leave it. If you walked through town, he'd disappear into the woods.

This place you'd fallen in love with was starting to feel like a prison. Both of you were trapped here, orbiting each other like hostile satellites.

Late one night, you were having a glass of wine at Emily's when frantic voices floated through the open window.

Emily was immediately on her feet, rummaging through cupboards, starting a boiling pot of water. A moment later Sam burst through the door.

“Lahote got shot,” he said to her, then ripped the tablecloth off the tables, sending your wine and the dishes flying.

Your heart dropped through the floor. “What—”

“Where?” Emily said, setting her first aid kit on the counter and starting to rip up some bandages.

“Wait—”

“His side, he can't shift back. Y/n, he—”

The others burst into the room next, four of them carrying an enormous gray wolf on their shoulders. Paul.

“Here, set him here.” Emily gestured to the table, and they slowly eased him onto it. “Oh, God,” Emily hissed, turning to grab more bandages.

Jacob grabbed you before you could get closer. “Don’t, y/n,” he said, his hands covered in blood.

Paul's breath was coming out in broken whines, his entire left side slick with dark blood.

“Why can't he shift?” You asked, panic rising in your throat, choking you.

Jacob didn't answer, his face twisted in pain.

Understanding dawned. If Paul shifted, he would die.

You shoved past Jacob, catching him by surprise, and rushed to Paul's giant head, his eyes pinched shut, muzzle stained with gore.

“Paul,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his head the best you could considering it was the size of your torso, digging your fingers into his thick fur. He was colder than he should be, his heartbeat sluggish.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, you shouldn't. He might hurt you when Em—”

You shook the alpha off, clinging tighter to Paul's fur, breathing in his pine-tinged scent. “I don't care.”

Emily returned with an amber bottle, passing it to you. “Four drops on his tongue. No more.” And she set to laying out her supplies.

You looked at the label. Morphine.

“Paul, baby, I need you to open your mouth for me,” you asked, stroking his cheek. “Please, it'll make the pain go away.”

His eyes fluttered open, the richest mahogany, and locked onto your face.

“Please,” you asked again, a tear snaking down your cheek.

His mouth cracked open, revealing the torn, bloody muscle inside.

“That's good, love. Just like that.” You dropped four clear pearls of medicine onto his tongue. “Good boy, thank you.” You gently closed his mouth again, his eyes still firmly locked on you, even as his eyelids began to drop.

You went to pull away and set the medicine on the counter when he loosed a heart-wrenching whine, his whole body shifting on the table.

“Shit! Hold him,” Emily ordered, but he bucked them off again, staring at you.

Realizing, you dropped the medicine and rushed back over to him, throwing an arm over his neck and burying your face in the dense scruff at the base of his throat.

He immediately settled, tilting his chin down to rest against you, his nose pressed into your shoulder.

“I'm going to start removing the bullet,” Emily said to no one in particular. “If he starts to get aggressive, I want her out of here.”

The pack nodded, tightening their grips around him.

His body had just started to go lax form the morphine when Emily started digging for the bullet. You felt him tense, but he held perfectly still, almost trembling with effort.

The pack looked at one another, clearly surprised.

“He can't sit still for a splinter,” Sam muses, eyeing the two of you with a quirked brow.

“Got it!” Emily said, holding the pliers in the air, a crimson hollow point pinched in the end of them. “Less then two inches from his heart,” she said, dropping the bullet into the sink with a clatter.

Paul huffed against your neck, his body relaxing again.

You stroked his head, trying to soothe him. “You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright. Just a few stitches and you'll be able to heal on your own,” you whispered in his ear, even though you knew the rest of the could hear you.

Emily poured alcohol into the wound, and he bucked, a vicious growl ripping from his throat. Jacob yanked you backwards before Paul's fangs found you, Sam grabbing Emily as Paul roared.

“Outside!” Sam ordered, looking at Jacob. Jacob nodded and hauled you out into the cold, shutting the door behind you both.

“No, I need to be in there!” You shouted, fighting against him.

“Paul told us to take you out of there!” Jacob yelled back, and you stumbled away, stunned. “Right after he got shot, he said to make sure you weren't there. And he screamed ‘get her the fuck out of here' just now.”

“But—” You felt your knees sag. You thought for sure he was asking you to come closer…

“You saw what happened to Emily,” Jacob murmured, and you snapped your head back towards him. “Paul wouldn't survive doing that to you, y/n.”

You stared at him, tears in your eyes.

“He hates hurting you. But in his mind, it's the only way to keep you safe.”

“From what?” You cried, frustrated, heartbroken. Another agonized howl rips through the still November air.

“All of this! Us! Him!” Jacob threw his arms out. “When you discovered us, you trapped yourself. When he imprinted on you, he trapped you further.”

“But I want to be here!” You shouted back, voice echoing off the pines. “I want this.” Tears clogged your throat, the anger draining out of you. “I want him.”

Seth opened the front door, the warm light a halo around him. “He's out cold, but shifted back. He's going to be okay.”

You ran up the stairs and into the house. Paul, human Paul, was stretched across the table, a blanket tossed over his lower half. Emily was bandaging his ribs, a thick pad of gauze just to the left of his sternum.

“He's fine,” Emily said, sensing you hovering in the doorway. “A few days of rest and he'll be as growly as ever.”

“You should go home, y/n,” Sam said. “He doesn't need any stress right now.”

Stress. Was that all you were?

You nodded and grabbed your coat hanging by the door, feeling like you'd been shot yourself. Jacob offered to walk you home, but you declined.

You'd had enough for werewolves for a lifetime.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When Paul woke up, he was alone in his room, the curtains drawn. Memories of that night rushed back to him, the agony, the searing rip of the bullet, your hands in his fur, soft voice in his ear.

“You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright.”

“Paul?” Sam cracked the door open. “You alright?”

“Where is she?” He asked, tugging on a pair of sweatpants.

“Paul—”

He didn't need to ask again, he could feel you through the imprint, his little shadow.

“Lahote, wait—” Sam grabbed him when he went to leave the room.

“What?” He snapped, the need to see you like a beast in his chest.

“She’s leaving.”

Paul's heart stopped. “She..what?”

“She's packing now. Chief said she was free to go if she burned her notes.”

He missed the last part, already running out of the house and into the street. He ran barefoot across town, ignoring everyone shouting from him, both outside and in his head.

Finally, he saw your little house at the edge of the beach, your car in the driveway, trunk open and piled with boxes.

No, no, no, no.

He vaulted over your stairs, barreling through the door.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your front door slammed open, the top hinge breaking with an audible crack. You dropped the books your were packing, looking up to find Paul racing towards you like a heat seeking missile.

“Paul, what—”

“Shut up, y/n,” he growled. His hands came up to your face, grabbing you and tugging you towards him. His mouth collided with yours, rough and desperate. Strong hands hauled you closer, crushing you against his bare chest in a bruising grip.

Your lips parted under his, your hands grasping for purchase along the planes of his chest as you kissed him back. His lips were surprisingly soft, supple and beautifully shaped, though nothing about the kiss gentle. Your lungs screamed for air, your whole body burning, burning, burning alive for him.

He wrenched himself away, holding onto the door frame like a lifeline. His chest heaved, eyes wild and dark. The frame cracked under his hands.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breathless. He still had bandages wrapped around his torso.

With one hand, he ripped them clean off, revealing nothing but a dimple of scar tissue. “If you want to go, I won't stop you. But I couldn't let you leave without…” his voice trailed off, gaze fixed firmly on your puffy, spit-slick lips.

You took a stuttering breath, tears brimming along your lash line. “I want you to want me to stay,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, tracking each tear as they rolled down your flushed cheeks. His expression softened, eyes round, lips slightly parted. “I want you to stay with me, but you're better off—”

You flung yourself towards him, trusting he would catch you, and he did, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I'm not,” you said, raining kisses across his cheeks, over his lips, his eyes, his jaw. “I'm not.”

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[elryuse]

To celebrate the release of part 1 of your Hierarchy series how about a fic about Yoon He-ra in where the readers family decides to help her out when her family was in debt, but the readers family made a condition in where the Reader and He-ra would be in an arranged marriage

A NEW BEGINNING

YOON HERA X MALE READER

The rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm raging within Yoon He-ra's heart. Her family, once a beacon of hope, was now drowning in a sea of debt. The weight of their financial burden pressed down on her shoulders, a heavy, suffocating force.

A flicker of hope ignited when an unexpected offer arrived. The wealthy Kim family, particularly their son, Y/n, had extended a helping hand. Their generosity was overwhelming, but it came with a steep price.

The Kims' ultimatum was clear: an arranged marriage between He-ra and Y/n. It was a cold, calculated move, a strategic alliance to secure their interests. He-ra, a mere pawn in their grand scheme, was forced to accept her fate.

As the wedding day approached, He-ra found herself increasingly isolated. Her friends, once a source of comfort and support, began to distance themselves. The harsh truth was that they were uncomfortable with her newfound status as a future heiress, a position they couldn't relate to.

In the midst of this social upheaval, only one friend remained steadfast: Jae-i. She had always been different, a true friend who saw beyond the superficial. She understood the weight of He-ra's burden, the sacrifices she was making for her family.

"You don't have to do this, He-ra," Jae-i said, her voice filled with concern. "You deserve better."

He-ra, her heart heavy, shook her head. "I-i have no choice, Jaei-ah" she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As the wedding day approached, He-ra couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. She was marrying a stranger, a man she barely knew. What would their life together be like? Would they be able to connect on a deeper level, or would they remain mere acquaintances bound by a contract?

On the day of the wedding, He-ra finally met Y/n. To her surprise, he was nothing like the cold, calculating figure she had imagined. Instead, he was kind, gentle, and surprisingly understanding. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being and made a conscious effort to make her feel comfortable.

As they spent more time together, He-ra began to question her initial assumptions. Perhaps this arranged marriage wasn't as terrible as she had feared. Maybe there was hope for a future filled with love and happiness.

As she prepared to start a new life with Y/n, He-ra couldn't help but wonder how their relationship would evolve. Would they be able to overcome the challenges of an arranged marriage and build a genuine connection? Only time would tell.

The night was still young, the moon casting an ethereal glow over the city. He-ra and Y/n sat on a secluded bench in the park, the soft rustling of leaves providing a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

"So, Y/n," He-ra began, her voice barely a whisper, "what do you expect from this marriage?"

Y/n turned to her, his gaze soft and tender. "I simply want to spend my life with you, He-ra," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to care for you, to protect you, and to love you unconditionally."

He-ra's heart skipped a beat. His words, simple yet profound, touched her in a way she hadn't expected. She had been so caught up in the complexities of their situation that she had forgotten the most important thing: the human connection.

"But... but what about the family expectations?" she stammered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "The pressure, the obligations..."

Y/n took her hand in his, his touch warm and comforting. "We'll face those challenges together," he assured her. "We'll create our own happiness, regardless of what others expect."

He-ra's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. Yet, there was a strange sense of peace that washed over her. Perhaps this arranged marriage wasn't so bad after all.

As they sat there, lost in each other's gaze, a spark ignited between them. It was a spark of hope, a spark of love, a spark that could ignite a beautiful future.

The limousine glided smoothly through the city streets, the soft hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop to the intimate moment unfolding within. He-ra and Y/n sat side by side, their fingers intertwined.

As they drew closer to Jooshin High, Y/n's hand, bold and confident, slid across the seat and gently rested on He-ra's thigh. A shiver ran through her, a mix of surprise and anticipation. His touch, soft and tender, sent a wave of warmth through her body. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement.

When they arrived at the school, Y/n leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Have a good day, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

He-ra, her cheeks flushed, nodded silently. As she watched him walk away, she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging, a sense of security.

At school, He-ra immediately became the center of attention. Whispers and curious glances followed her every move. It was as if she had become a celebrity overnight. Some students were envious, others were simply amazed.

Jae-i, noticing the unwanted attention, approached He-ra. "Don't mind them," she said, her voice firm. "They're just jealous."

He-ra smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Jae-i. You're a lifesaver."

With Jae-i by her side, He-ra was able to navigate the day with relative ease. Together, they faced the curious stares, the snide remarks, and the hushed conversations. And together, they emerged victorious.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, He-ra gathered her belongings and prepared to leave. Just as she was about to step out of the classroom, she felt a familiar presence behind her.

"He-ra," Y/n's voice, soft and gentle, broke the silence. "Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me?"

He-ra's heart skipped a beat. She glanced at him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. His warm smile and inviting eyes made it impossible to refuse.

"Sure," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

As they walked together, the other students couldn't help but stare. They were an unexpected pair, a match made in an unlikely heaven. But as they watched the way Y/n looked at He-ra, filled with affection and adoration, they began to understand.

Perhaps love, like fate, could surprise even the most cynical of hearts.

- To Be Continued -

[psicheanima]

You know what this blog has helped me realize? Makima is what happens when you put a Mary Sue into an original work of fiction. Seen as perfect by most, terrifying others, forcing others to love her, almost inexplicably good at everything...she is like an ironic deconstruction of the very concept. That's probably why she's my favorite character.

Of course, because a Mary Sue who actually is good at everything will feel isolated from the world and humanity as a whole— they cannot excel at things as she does, they are beneath her, and even if she wants to reach out, she knows the gap between her and humanity is too wide.

The difference between her and actual Mary Sues of course is while both are loved by those around them, for Mary Sues it is a deep and connected love— she lets those into her life and they adore her very essence, but Makima tricks and forces people into loving her on a surface level because she is physically incapable of actually letting anyone close enough to see any part of herself that they could form an opinion on. It’s fun to think about….

“This is my oc makima she’s the devil of control so she mind controls everyone and they all think she’s soooo sexy and the protag loves her and she has the power to force anyone into making a contract so she actually has 1000 devil powers and she can’t die because she has healing powers and”

[anna-pineappel]

As someone who is always interested in how people use space, move through spaces and what spaces makes people feel, desire paths are a neat little concept. How humans connect with certain spaces and the emotional response is what I mayyyyy build a phd dissertation on one day, we’ll see!

It’s basically a “fuck you, I’m gonna do what I want” to whoever laid out the pathways, which tickles me as a landscape designer. But they also show the complexity of the human condition. Some people do it to literally cut corners and save time, others do it because they are curious about what’s over there… they don’t want to rush the journey.

What I love most about desire paths is that they show that you can’t predict humanity. You can certainly try, but there’s always that one person who sees the world a bit differently, and wants to wander, explore, go where no one else goes. I like that they are called ‘desire paths’ because someone desired to step off the traditional path and do their own thing. And I think that’s beautiful.

I could ramble on and on about my love for desire paths, but I’ll keep it on the shorter side!

[luthordamnvers]

Outgrowing Supergirl

A/N: The finale I deserved, tbh (Also on AO3)

Cat's voice kept repeating in Kara's head since Alex and Kelly's wedding.

'Ker-rah, you need to stop making excuses, and you need to decide what your course will be. Now, there is important work to be done, and I hope you'll join me. But more than that, I hope that you will choose to become your full self, because that would really be something to see. And it would be interesting because this is boring.'

Boring.

Her life had been torn to pieces a few times over, with destruction and missing on half the happenings of her own life because she was busy saving the world… the universe, and Cat Grant categorized it as boring.

Kara laughed to herself. She didn't know the half of it. And yet, her reluctant mentor also had some encouraging words.

'I believe in you, I always have.'

She had offered an Editor-In-Chief position.

One position she wasn't entirely sure she deserved, but as Alex said, 'That was her dream job.' Not one she expected to get, so soon. It was one she expected for when her superheroing had dwindled, and she was well into her human midlife. When her birth-date would say she was in her late forties, and she had to pretend she followed some strict regimen to look as good as she did, because the yellow sun wouldn't really let her age that much.

Her own words, also bounced in her head.

'I give speeches inspiring people to live their best lives. But she's right. I am too afraid to live my own.'

'My entire life, I've hid behind these glasses. It's gotten in the way of every job I've ever had, everything I've ever wanted to do, every relationship.'

'I think hiding who I am is the reason I couldn't pass the courage Gauntlet. I created Supergirl that night because the thought of saving my sister as myself was too terrifying.'

At that precise moment, she did thought that. but in the days since her sister's wedding, she could ponder long and wide over it. That may have been the totem's argument. But the totem didn't know about her safety. All the times people knowing her identity, put them in danger.

The totem didn't live Jeremiah having to surrender himself to work for the D.E.O to protect her. The totem didn't know about the D.E.O recruiting her sister out of college, because she was an alien. The totem didn't know about Max Lord trying to date her sister just to try and uncover Supergirl's identity. Or Rick Malverne keeping Alex hostage, so Supergirl would do his bidding. Or Haley finding out her identity, and use it to manipulate her sister and herself.

The totem didn't understand Lex Luthor capturing her niece in exchange for more power.

Or Agent Liberty kidnapping Lena to force her to reveal her identity.

That didn't happen in this reality, but it did happened to her. And she caved, of course she did. But it was dangerous. Too dangerous.

Lena's words constantly swam in her mind too, 'You've had your entire life, people telling you who you're supposed to be and that if you didn't hide your true self then the people would get hurt. I mean, it's tough to move beyond those type of core wounds.'

"It wasn't until Lillian told me the truth that I realized I haven't been living my own life. And finally, now I am. And it feels amazing." She had said, as they walked together, one next to the other.

"I don't even know what that would feel like for me. Connecting with someone as my whole self. To not be afraid to just be who I am.." Kara confessed. "It sounds like it could be empowering," Lena encouraged her.

It wasn't until days later, that she realized she'd lied to her best friend.

They were both sitting in her couch, watching The Great British Baking Show. Kara didn't even remember which season they were on.

"Are you even paying attention to the TV?" Lena asked, like reading her mind.

"No, not really," Kara sincerely admitted."I was thinking about what we talked at the wedding. About living my own life."

Lena turned to look at her instead of the TV, "You took of your glasses."

"I did. But I don't think that's the correct move for me," Kara confessed.

"Then, what is it?"

Kara sighed, "I'll accept the Editor-In-Chief job."

"You seem awfully conflicted for someone accepting her dream job," Lena frowned.

"I just need to convince Cat Grant to accept my conditions."

"Ah," Lena let out. "I see." She looked at her with a smile. "If anyone can convince her of anything, is you."

Kara was mesmerized by her. She thought about how much their life has changed, since they met. How miserable she was when Lena wasn't in her life. How unhappy she was when she had to run away from her, a lie in her lips. And how much better it was now that she knew the truth and was a willing participant of her life as a superhero.

She didn't realized she had done it, get so close to Lena she'd just had to lean in a few inches to touch her lips to hers.

"I lied at the wedding, too." Kara whispered.

"Lied about what?" Lena asked, in an equally low mumble.

"That I didn't know how it felt connecting with someone as my whole self," Kara explained. "I do know. I've always done it with you, even without the obvious. But especially in the last year." Kara paused. "And I think… I think you are more than my best friend."

Lena didn't move, she kept looking into Kara's eyes looking for something, and it seemingly she found it. "And what are you going to do about it?" She muttered.

"I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay with you," Kara said, finally closing the distance between their lips.

Kara could fly, and yet nothing had ever felt like kissing Lena.

"I got it," Lena announced, entering the loft.

Kara was nervous. She had managed to convince Cat Grant of it, but of course, her mentor and boss, couldn't let the dramatics go, and didn't let Kara even look at the cover of the magazine before sending it to print.

"You do look very good," her girlfriend said.

She was still over the moon about calling Lena her girlfriend, but not even that could squelch her nervousness. The kiss Lena gave her as a greeting did, though.

"Ready?" Lena asked.

"As ready as I can be."

Lena flipped the magazine in front of her, showing the cover to Kara. A picture of herself in her SuperSuit looked back at her.

'Supergirl is out, Superwoman is in.'

"She could have gone with a less cliched headline," Kara commented in a whisper.

"It's not that bad," Lena said, throwing her hands around Kara's neck, keeping her close. "But if I'm completely honest, you know Kara has always been my hero."

[howlsofbloodhounds]

The Effects of his Captivity:

I’m yapping as I go so things might be repeated and disjointed sjsheoeb

The effects of solitary confinement for 17–20 years, compounded by erasure from existence, being forgotten by loved ones, and surviving only due to the power of six human souls, would likely devastate Color on every level—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The scar from the human’s killing blow and the busted skull would constantly remind him of his defeat and the cost of his decision.

The scar across Color’s chest, combined with a busted skull and the fact that his body is only held together by the souls of the fallen children, would cause constant, likely debilitating pain.

The pain would not only be physical but might also affect his nervous system, creating a sense of heightened sensitivity, numbness, or confusion in certain areas of his body.

The missing eye socket and the physical instability caused by the six souls could result in constant discomfort, with his body held together by an unnatural force.

The loss of one eye results in limited vision, leading to disorientation or an inability to perceive his environment fully. His reliance on other senses might have intensified during his long isolation.

Though his body remains animated through the human souls, the sustained trauma would lead to deterioration in his physical form. Despite being “alive,” his body could be slowly degrading, leading to a weakened, frail state, susceptible to further injury or collapse if the soul power fades.

Without natural healing mechanisms, he feels fragile and unstable, living with the fear that even a minor incident could cause him to dust.

Isolation and lack of physical activity would lead to a decline in motor skills. Even with the souls sustaining him, his body would feel awkward or disconnected from his movements due to the prolonged lack of practice.

Being erased and forgotten would create a sense of identity erosion. He would question his own existence, asking, “Am I even real if no one remembers me?”

The replacement by Undyne would deepen this feeling, leaving him with thoughts of worthlessness or expendability. Being erased from existence and replaced as his brother’s sibling could shatter Color’s sense of self.

He might feel like a hollow shell, disconnected from his past, his identity, and even from the idea of family. This loss of identity could lead to deep confusion and a constant struggle to find meaning or purpose in his existence.

Prolonged isolation often leads to hallucinations, disorganized thoughts, and paranoia.

With only Gaster for company, the lack of meaningful interaction and emotional support would likely exacerbate feelings of detachment from reality.

With no one to communicate with besides Gaster, Color would experience intense loneliness. The human need for social connection becomes exaggerated, possibly leading to an almost desperate mental state.

His mind becomes fragmented, with periods of dissociation or even delusions where he might question his own existence, identity, or even whether he truly deserves connection.

He may mentally replay the moment of his decision to sacrifice himself and the souls, analyzing it endlessly and second-guessing if it was the right choice. This fixation could lead to rumination, spiraling into depression and self-blame.

While in solitary confinement, Color’s mind would likely sharpen its focus on survival. This could manifest in an almost obsessive attention to maintaining his existence, perhaps in unhealthy ways like fixation on the six souls that keep him alive or obsessive thoughts about what could have been.

His mental state would likely shift from coping mechanisms to raw, desperate survival instincts as time passes.

The combination of isolation, guilt over his past actions, and the fear of fading into nothingness could cause Color to experience significant paranoia. He might fear being forgotten again, rejected by any potential new connections, or being discarded once again.

This paranoia could cause him to avoid making meaningful bonds, driven by the constant anxiety that no one would ever remember or care for him.

Knowing the six souls are tied to his existence, he feels profound guilt over using their power to remain animated, questioning whether his survival is justified.

The choice to sacrifice himself and the six children to save his timeline would weigh heavily on Color’s psyche. The emotional burden of having made that decision—likely seen as a selfish act, despite its altruistic intent—could plague him with guilt, making it difficult to reconcile his actions with his current state of existence.

The scar, both physical and symbolic, would constantly remind him of the lives lost and his perceived failure.

With no outlet for his feelings, Color could harbor intense anger, not only at the people who forgot him but also at the world that allowed him to fall into such a fate.

This anger might turn inward, manifesting as self-loathing or projection of his frustration onto Gaster or even his past self. He could experience periods of violent outbursts, fueled by the intense emotional overload.

The most defining emotional toll would be a profound feeling of abandonment. Color would be haunted by the belief that no one cares about him anymore, having been forsaken not only by his family but by the very timeline that once needed him.

This abandonment would likely result in a deep sadness and longing for connection, especially with those he once loved. He wonders if he is fundamentally unlovable or unworthy of remembrance.

This loneliness could manifest in a desperate need for validation once freed, making him overly dependent on relationships (e.g., Killer, Delta, Epic, potentially Abyss, Gaster especially.)

Being forgotten by his loved ones, replaced as an older sibling, and erased from existence leave him grieving not just for his relationships but for his very sense of self.

He may also mourn the timeline he tried to save, feeling like his sacrifice was in vain if it resulted in this outcome.

He could harbor anger toward the human for putting him in this position, toward Gaster for not being more helpful in the Void, and even toward himself for making the choice to sacrifice himself.

This anger could fuel a determination to prove his worth or, conversely, lead to a sense of bitterness and hopelessness.

In the face of overwhelming despair, Color might latch onto a mission or role (e.g., helping people, trying to rebuild his identity) to feel meaningful again. His fear of being forgotten may make him try to be indispensable to others, risking burnout or exploitation.

After escaping the Void, Color developed an intense fear of being alone again, leading to overattachment to those who show him kindness, like potentially Delta, Epic, etc. He goes to extreme lengths to stay connected, even if it puts him in harm’s way.

The scar, the damaged skull, and the missing eye feel like visible reminders of his failure. He struggles with feeling grotesque or unworthy of acceptance.

his own suffering make him highly empathetic toward others in pain, particularly those who feel abandoned or forgotten, like Killer. This shared understanding make him a deeply loyal and supportive ally.

The lingering guilt and despair may cause him to devalue his own life, making him reckless in dangerous situations. He might see his survival as unearned and act with disregard for his safety.

The isolation, paired with the trauma of being forgotten, erased, and replaced, likely resulted in Color being emotionally fragile, mentally fractured, and physically deteriorating.

It’s also worth taking into account if Color remembers everything about Gaster again or not, considering that Gaster fell into the Core (was implied to have jumped) and shattered, being forgotten (but not replaced like Color was) by everyone, meaning Sans may not have known completely who Gaster was when he first fell in.

This could result in intense identity confusion and disorientation, because Color holds two dual memories; one where Gaster was present, and one where he wasn’t and didn’t exist.

This could even lead to moments of intense confusion, anger, and fear when one moment he’s talking to Gaster but the next day he’s being comforted and hel by a complete stranger he can’t remember the name of.

His identity felt like something slipping away, with his desperate need for connection turning into a hollow, burning desire. These long years shape him into someone who is deeply mistrustful of others, fearful of being abandoned again, and increasingly haunted by his past mistakes when he finally leaves the Void and perhaps his own timeline.

Prolonged isolation can lead to auditory/visual hallucinations, particularly if Color’s mind tries to fill the void of human interaction. He might perceive the voices of the six souls or even imagine people from his past trying to reach out to him.

The blurred line between reality and memory could lead to moments of psychosis, where Color struggles to trust his own perceptions.

Given that in the caring short, color was all too willing to accept the possibility that he might’ve been seeing and hearing things and gaster is concerned that color was “talking to someone”—makes me think it’s really not a stretch to think that Color likely experienced periods of psychosis in the Void. Seeing and hearing things that aren’t there, feeling things.

I’m thinking the Human, the six human souls, probably Papyrus. If he is aware of what’s going on outside the Void, he possibly hallucinates Ivory/Undyne. he maybe hallucinates stuff about Gaster too, saying and doing things Gaster didn’t actually do.

he could also hallucinate that he’s dusting, cracking and dying, since it appears he probably would’ve died if the souls hadn’t kept him alive (and then later Gaster.)

Would also make sense if he’s hallucinated things like Undyne deliberately and knowingly replacing him, resulting in emotional anger, betrayal, hurt, jealousy—even if he logically knows the things he saw and heard weren’t real, and that Undyne doesn’t even know who he is anymore, he struggles to accept and realize it emotionally.

Without consistent access to nourishment (magical or otherwise), Color’s body might develop long-term issues like fatigue, atrophy, or brittle bones, especially if his skeletal structure is already prone to fragility.

Since Color has only one functioning eye, the prolonged isolation and lack of resources would worsen issues like eye strain or headaches, especially if he spent significant time in the dark or staring at the infinite void.

Lack of movement and injuries from past experiences (like scars from battles or trauma) could lead to persistent joint or nerve pain. The stress of isolation might also amplify his perception of physical pain.

The Void’s timeless nature likely eliminates a natural day-night cycle, leading to chronic insomnia or fragmented sleep. This, combined with emotional stress, could result in long-term physical exhaustion and cognitive impairment.

Being erased from existence and forgotten by everyone he cared about would challenge Color’s sense of self, potentially leading to derealization (“Is this real?”) and depersonalization (“Am I real?”).

His fragmented sense of identity, already influenced by the six souls, would likely worsen as he struggles to distinguish himself from the traits and voices of the absorbed souls, if he can hear them.

The lack of stimulation in the Void might cause memory issues, difficulty concentrating, and slowed processing speeds. He could struggle to focus or retain new information, especially after being released.

Being forgotten by everyone would reinforce a sense of worthlessness, as if his existence didn’t matter. At his worst and lowest moments, this could lead to chronic self-doubt, difficulty asserting himself, and a tendency to self-sabotage, believing he doesn’t deserve to be remembered or loved.

Being trapped in the Void with Gaster might lead Color to view existence as fragile and easily erased. He could develop an obsession with permanence, fearing that any connection or achievement could be erased just as easily as his past.

The loss of his family, friends, and timeline created a devastating sense of isolation, leaving Color craving connection while also fearing abandonment.

This might result in a desperate need to form bonds once freed, even if those bonds are unhealthy. Difficulty trusting others, as he fears they might leave or forget him again.

Knowing someone else, Undyne, took his place in his family create deep insecurities. He fears that even if he reconnects with Papyus, he won’t need or want him back. This could manifest as a reluctance to reach out to people he once cared about.

Clinging to anyone who shows him kindness, even at the expense of his own well-being. Overcompensating to prove his worth, becoming overly self-sacrificial in relationships.

While Color may not initially recognize it, he could harbor deep resentment toward his family for forgetting him, even though it wasn’t their fault. Toward the universe or fate for placing him in the Void and taking away his life. Toward Gaster for being his only companion but unable to provide meaningful connection.

Color would likely cling to memories of his timeline, romanticizing his past relationships and home. However, these memories might also bring deep pain, as they highlight everything he’s lost.

With Gaster his only companion, Color likely formed a complex bond with him, oscillating between gratitude for his presence and anger at being trapped with him.

Gaster’s cryptic nature frustrates Color, making him feel even more isolated, as Gaster does not fully understand or validate his emotions.

If Gaster provided guidance, Color might cling to him as a surrogate figure of authority, even if the relationship was unequal or strained.

Alternatively, Gaster’s enigmatic personality could exacerbate Color’s paranoia, making him question Gaster’s intentions or reliability.

After escaping, Color might constantly watch for signs that people are about to abandon or forget him again, leading to heightened anxiety and paranoia. He might try to make himself indispensable to others, fearing that if he isn’t needed, he’ll be forgotten.

While Color craves connection, he might avoid deep relationships at first, believing they’ll only end in rejection or loss. Guilt and feelings of unworthiness might lead him to push people away or avoid opportunities that could bring him happiness in the beginning.

Eventually he may surrounding himself with lots a connections and community, caring for each one and desperately not wanting to be alone again—finding the pain of being alone outweighs the potential pain of rejection and loss.

He knows many people but he often avoids talking about himself too much—possibly feeling that it’s pointless to try and explain, or more likely, not having the words to explain. Not knowing how to word it, how to explain in a way others could understand or relate to.

[midnight-bay-if]

what would the RO's do if MC rejected them...

not that anyone would reject the gorgeous RO's (Taj especially <3) but still...

(My poor pookies, haha.)

S: They would throw themselves even more readily into their work. Better to mask the hurt behind a facade of being busy. Give themselves a moment to rest, and their mind may betray them with thoughts of you... but it becomes much harder to remain steadfast and focused. Before you, they had already settled with being married to their work. You gave them hope there might be another future in wait for them.

It will be hard to let that go.

Rain: At the moment of rejection, Rain wears a tight smile, gritting their teeth as they will their eyes dry. They do not wish to cry. They are embarrassed enough without that image searing into their brain. After that, they stick closer to Taj and S, gripping onto them like a lifeline. It was the first time Rain had put themselves out there since joining them; now they are all that remains to keep them afloat.

Taj: They will scoff, bluster, pretend, wave you off as if you didn't just stab them right in the heart. No matter how you attempt to soften the blow, Taj will hurt, and the hurt presents as fury. They gave you a chance. A human a chance. They never would have done it if they didn't honestly believe there was a connection. It took them so long to even give the idea of the time of day, not seeing the worth they could bring you.

The worst part is it's not even your fault. You didn't make them believe it was possible; they did it all on their own.

If you thought Taj was grumpy before... Maybe maintain a healthy distance after that.

N: It does not hurt. Of course, it doesn't. They are a demon, incapable of feeling. They are creatures of chaos with hands designed to grip the throat of mercy and squeeze. It is not surprising you would turn your back on that. It is the natural order of things.

It does not hurt.

If you thought N was wearing a mask before, you will never see it drop again. It is all they can do to hide the gaping hole in the heart they did not believe in until you.

Umbra: It's what they expected. It is only fitting you should desire more for yourself than them. Still, they want to be near you. They could not bear it if you turned from them completely. So, even if you do not love them as they love you, just let them remain close.

Nothing else matters.

[citrusraindrops]

I realise I'm not the intended recipient of this post, but you posted it, so here's some GC 101.

TERFs/Gender critical people don't police gender. They think it doesn't matter, and that it shouldn't matter. They want to abolish it.

We can agree– the concept of 'gender', meaning the socially constructed roles forced on men and women, is useless and harmful. It's meaningless how long your hair is, or whether you like pink or blue, or if you like romance movies and wine or fishing and drinking beer. Those things are arbitrarily connected with whether you're a man or a woman, and those arbitrary connections, which do far more harm than good, should be completely ignored, so that people can be free to do what they want.

Now, if gender doesn't mean anything, what's left? Sex. And sex means a lot. Because one of the sexes is, on average, taller, and stronger, and more sexually aggressive, and can impregnate, and the other is smaller and physically weaker and can be impregnated and receives the overwhelming majority of sexual violence. So there's a good reason for sex segregation to exist; or, at least, for female-only spaces to exist.

But, according to what GC feminists think, sex is the only thing that matters. So, a body-building woman– completely fine, more power to her (although they might critique the heavy focus on appearances/disordered eating present in the bodybuilding community). A man with a baby face? Completely normal human variation. He's still male, and he's still a man. A woman with a beard? Well, that's out of the ordinary, but some women (female) do have hormonal disorders that cause facial hair to grow, and they shouldn't feel like they have to change how they look just because of what society thinks (most RadFems are rabidly anti-shaving for that reason).

"But!!" you say. "The TERFs DO police gender! They criticise trans people for how they act and dress and look just because it's not in line with the gender expectations of their sex!"

Well, that's somewhat true. A lot of radical feminists dislike and are heavily critical of the way trans people –especially trans males– present. But that's not because they're breaking gender roles: As established, GC's are for that. It's because, to a gender critical perspective, these males are acting like their conformity to the roles and expectations used to oppress women makes them women. They're acting like being feminine makes you female. And to GC's who are dedicated to showing the opposite –that female does NOT mean femininity– this is a deeply offensive, reductionist and harmful view.

So, when GC's criticise a transwoman for wearing makeup or skirts or false eyelashes, they are criticising not the break from the expectations imposed on people based on sex, but the use of these things to evidence the claim that he is a woman.

The people who police your gender will police your gender even if you're cis.

Eat them.