#maybe sometimes we need to let ourselves feel weak. maybe the inability to let ourselves be vulnerable is actually the thing to hate

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of gun violence (in a nightmare. not IRL)

i know for a fact that my period makes me more apt to cry over things because i can have a vivid nightmare about getting randomly gunned down while waiting in line to pick up a pizza then wake up and not shed a tear but when i’m on my period i can have one (1) bad dream about my father yelling at me and i wake up and promptly begin full-on sobbing into my pillow

[the-iron-orchid]

Ficlet: Intrusive Thoughts

Just some hurt/comfort fluff, because really you’ve got to take your Needs into your own hands lol. I may or may not follow this up with a related smut...

Pairing: Jinana/Julian

Warnings: mild existential crisis

Synopsis: The power dynamics of the relationship between Jinana and Julian are not nearly so one-sided as it may sometimes seem.

I feel like I’ve known you for years.

Calling me Master is beneath you.

Something that walks in the shape of a dead magician...

I do not know what has triggered it, only that these things echo in my brain. These and other terrible things, filling me with doubt, causing me to fear.

I don’t think I can hide it from Julian, nor should I wish to, I suppose. We promised to be there for each other, never to hide things from each other, even with the intent to protect.

We’re stronger together.

But he isn’t home right now. He’s away at the Palace, along with Asra, and the thoughts gnaw at the inside of my head. I consider going to find Heron, cursing my inability to Send him a magical message. Instead, I curl up inside my shawl in the big armchair, finding some small measure of comfort in its familiarity.

I wish Faust were here, or even Malak. But I am alone.

If I can hold out for just half an hour… if Julian isn’t home by then, I will go and seek out Heron, I tell myself. I rock myself slightly, but it’s hard to ease the existential dread when it appears, rising unwanted from the depths of my brain.

What am I, really? Am I truly Jñāna Seraphina Aditya, or am I something else, something other, something that took hir form, hir memories… hir loved ones?

Julian has told me that bodies don’t count for much in the long run. We replace ourselves constantly, bit by bit. As in the riddle of the axe, when do we stop being who we once were? Who can tell? We are forever in flux.

But what of the essence, the consciousness, the soul? Am I only something that Asra trained to be an echo of his lost lover, a simulacrum?

I know that it upsets Julian to find me like this; to his mind, I am the strong one. But sometimes, my strength cannot hold against the great weight that swamps me, the mystery of my continued existence, the great void that comprises nearly thirty years of my life.

The sound of the key in the lock startles me out of my rumination, and I hear a familiar voice through the door, along with frantic croaking.

“Malak, calm down!” The door opens, and the raven bursts inside, making a beeline for the back of the chair. He lands, stamping about, making soft raspy sounds, and leans down to preen at my hair.

“Jinana?” Julian closes the door behind him, and closes the distance in a few long strides, kneeling in front of the chair. “Darling, are you all right?” He grips my shoulder with one gloved hand, lifts it to cradle my cheek.

The concern on his face humbles me. “I’m… just having a bad night, that’s all,” I manage to say, with a weak smile.

“My love, you should have sent for me! I’m sure Nadia would have understood.” He clucks, rises, and gathers me into his arms, shawl and all, lifting me from the chair like a child. He seats himself there, placing me on his lap, and kisses me on the forehead. “What’s troubling you, dearest?”

I shake my head. “It’s… the usual, really. It’s very stupid.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” he says, with mock-severity. “You have had traumatic experiences, it’s only natural that there are going to be... effects.”

I turn my face against his chest, breathing in the scent of night air and his own scent: leather and the faint amber-musk halo of the scent he wears. “I know. It just… it always sounds ridiculous, when I say it aloud.”

I take a deep breath, let it out, and Julian plants a kiss on the top of my head before I continue. “I just… I guess I was thinking too much. About how you and Heron and Asra… I don’t doubt that you all care for me, very much. But I can’t help thinking… I’m not that person anymore, the one you all cared for in the first place. I can’t help but feel like I gained everyone’s affection on… false pretenses. Is it really even me that you love?” I hide my face entirely against his jacket, trying to stop the tears from coming.

“Oh, Jinana.” There’s a sad sort of humor in Julian’s tone. I feel him moving, hear the rustle of his gloves, and then his bare hand smoothes over my hair. “Do you know the first time it occurred to me that I was falling in love with you?”

I shake my head, and he chuckles. “Well. It was in the library, the day you came to rescue me from drowning myself in Salty Bitters. At first, I thought you were a drunken hallucination. I’d cried so much that I could barely see you, my eyes were almost swollen shut.” I feel him shake his head. “But in the library… when you were able to overlook my stupidity, when you were able to forgive me for hurting you like that…” His voice is becoming rough, and he sighs heavily. “When you, by some miracle, still wanted me… that was the first time I thought, maybe this is what being in love is like.” His arms squeeze me against him, trembling a little.

“And when you wouldn’t leave my side, even though it could have meant hanging right next to me… I knew it was true. That you really did care for me… and that I could no more avoid falling for you than I could have avoided gravity.”

“I wanted to tell you, but the time never seemed right… and my fears seemed so large. I wanted to tell you that night outside my sister’s cottage, while the fireflies surrounded us. I wanted to tell you right there on that witness stand, in the dungeon under the Coliseum… but I was afraid. Afraid it would frighten you in turn, that it would be too much, too soon. I always have been ‘too much’, you see. Too dramatic, never to be taken seriously in these things.” He snorts lightly, but I can sense the old pain, there.

“But you see… I wanted to tell you that I loved you long before I even remembered that we had once known each other before. I’ve come to know you far better in our time now than I ever did four years ago. I love you for what you are now, and whatever you may become. I love you for being you, just as you are.”

This little speech of his, spoken without a single stumble or hesitation, re-awakens the sense I had once before, even as the Devil’s chains burned and suffocated us: that the feeling between us could support the entire world.

I wind my arms around the back of his neck, his curls tickling my skin, and rise up to bury my face in the place between his neck and shoulder. I am shivering, but his arms hold me tightly, and his hands run soothingly over my back. 

“I’m sorry to put you through this right after coming home,” I mumble against his skin, and he chuckles.

“I told you, darling… I hate not pulling my weight. If I can do this for you, if I can help you to feel better at all, then I’m happy to do so, whenever you need me. Because I love you, and I’ll say it a thousand times if you want me to. Maybe even if you don’t want me to.” He laughs. “And, well… sometimes the best way to get out of your own head is to focus on the body.” He is in earnest, but he cannot stop the faintly lascivious curl to his lips. “A cup of tea, a hot bath, maybe… dare I say it?”

“Of course you do,” I say, and a smile curves my lips, too.

“As much pleasure as you can stand from your lover, who is only too eager to please?”

We both laugh, and he rises from the chair to carry me up the stairs, ready to put this plan of care into motion.

[bubonickitten]

Summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Previous chapter: AO3 // tumblr

Chapter 14 full text & content warnings below the cut.

Note: There are text messages in this one. The AO3 posting uses a custom work skin to format them. I’m going to upload them as images for the Tumblr post. Might be easiest to read on AO3, though. (Particularly if you use a screen reader or have difficulty reading white text on green backgrounds and need to highlight those portions of text.)

Content warnings for Chapter 14: Buried-typical elements (claustrophobia, inability to breathe/move, etc.); mention of past suicidal ideation; some anxiety/panic symptoms; brief description of a past depressive episode; relatively mild blood/injury; swears; some Unsettling Spider Trivia (personally I think it’s fascinating but if you don’t like spiders maybe just skip a bit ahead when you get to that part). SPOILERS through Season 5.

Chapter 14: Up and Out

Much like the ebb and flow of the Buried, that sensation of being pulled vacillates. A few times now, it’s disappeared almost entirely, leaving Jon disorientated and suddenly doubting whether he’s headed in the right direction despite being certain only moments before. It always comes back before long, but each time it’s happened, he’s had to pause to fight down the knee-jerk influx panic.

Right this moment, he’s stopped – both because that sensation is dwindling again and because he’s simply winded. They’ve been in a particularly tight squeeze for quite some time now, and he’s aching and exhausted from the struggle.

“Jon?” Daisy prompts, panting even more heavily than he is. Nearly eight months of muscular atrophy and restricted lung capacity haven’t done any favors for her stamina. “A-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just – just taking a break. Getting my bearings.”

“Anchor f-fading again?” He has a feeling she was aiming for casual, but the trepidation creeps into her voice anyway.

“Yes. But don’t worry, I’ll find it again. I just need to catch my breath.”

Daisy laughs. It comes out as some combination of a wheeze and a whimper.

“I d-don’t think I’ve been able to catch my breath in… I – I don’t know how long.”

“You will soon,” he promises, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I – I c-can barely remember what that’s like. F-feels like I’ll never know it again –”

“I know,” he says gently, “I know. I – I know it’s worse for you – you’ve been here longer – but I do remember that feeling. I promise I’ll get us out of here.”

“And – and then what?” she says in a near-whisper. “The – the Hunt, it – it’s going to come back, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. But – but you’ll still be you, and I’ll still be me, and we’ll – we’ll both fight to keep it that way.”

“I – I never thought about it, b-but – I’m prey too, aren’t I?” Daisy makes a noise that straddles the line somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “It – it’ll always chase me down, and it’s – stronger, f-faster –”

“Maybe, but I think you might be more stubborn.” Daisy gives a weak chuckle. “We all are, aren’t we?” Jon continues, emboldened by her reaction and intent on distracting her from her burgeoning panic. “Wonder if it’s somewhere in the job requirements: must be stubborn, curious, and preternaturally unlucky.”

This time, Daisy actually does laugh – clipped and wet with barely-contained tears, but a laugh all the same. For a minute she’s quiet, before sniffling once and clearing her throat.

“Can you tell me what happened last time? Did I – was I able to…”

“You fought it, yes,” he says slowly. “The call of the blood was always in the background. Distractions helped to take the edge off, sometimes. You spent most of your time with Basira. You and I spent a lot of time together, too. Tried to listen to the quiet. Both of us.”

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but.’”

“There is,” he admits.

“It caught up to me,” Daisy guesses, sounding resigned.

“It did. But… you refused it right up until the point where it was your last resort. The Institute was under attack, and Martin was in danger, and the two of you stayed behind to deal with the threat to buy me time enough to find him. A pair of Hunters cornered you. Basira couldn't take them both, and you… were too weakened from resisting the Hunt to stand a chance against either of them. You let the Hunt back in because it was the only way you could protect Basira. You made her promise to find you and kill you when it was over, and you told her to run.”

“Do you – do you think if not for that, I would have kept resisting? Or was I just – using that as an excuse to give in?”

“I don’t know,” Jon says truthfully. He hesitates, attempting to balance honesty with tact. “You were wasting away. We all thought that refusing to feed the Hunt might kill you eventually. But whenever the subject came up, you said you were willing to die rather than let it back in. You were – adamant. And I… think you would have followed through on it. Resisting, I mean. Even if it meant dying.”

“I see,” she murmurs.

“Actually, it’s – probably morbid to say, but I envied your resolve. You didn’t want to be a predator again. You thought death was preferable to being lost to the blood. Right up until the end.” He shakes his head. “But – but maybe we can find a – a different way. Me coming back has already changed some things that I thought were inevitable. Just – don’t give up hope?”

Daisy makes a noise of acknowledgement, but Jon can’t glean anything else from it.

“I know it sounds bleak, and – and maybe it is. But for what it’s worth, I’ll be right there with you. I’m not taking live statements this time around, and it – has similar effects on me that refusing the Hunt does for you. Reading old statements takes the edge off, sometimes, but based on past experience, it… won’t be sustainable, and I’ll – have to cross that bridge when I get to it, I suppose. It’s not exactly the same, obviously – our patrons operate in different ways – but it did… help, last time, having someone nearby who knew what it was like.”

“You… know things now, right?”

“It’s… complicated. There are a lot of constraints and” – he huffs – “I don’t have as much control over it as everyone wishes I did, but… yes.”

“Any educated guesses on our chances?”

“None,” Jon says with a grim half-smile. “The Beholding tends to be uncooperative when it comes to concepts like escape and recovery. I won’t lie – marks don’t fade, and as far as I can tell, once someone is fully an Avatar, there’s no undoing it. You embrace it, or you wither away. You feed it, or it feeds on you.”

“Sounds about right.”

“But,” Jon says emphatically, “you should also know that no one had ever escaped the Buried before we did. And we’re about to do it again. So… who knows. Maybe there’s a third option and we just haven’t found it yet. I can’t promise there’s another way, but if there is… we’ll find it.”

“Or die trying?” Daisy replies, a wry edge to her tone now.

“Suppose so. But not without making a nuisance of ourselves first. I still don’t Know if the Fears are sentient, but on the off chance they are, I find that spite is a decent motivator.”

“Naturally.” Daisy snorts. “I wonder what annoys the Hunt?”

“Don’t know. Fraternizing with someone who was marked as prey, maybe. You told me once that on bad days, my blood was the loudest thing in the Archives. We theorized the Hunt wasn’t too keen on you letting me go.”

“You… weren’t you afraid I’d turn on you?”

“No.”

“Is that because you were suicidal, or because you honestly thought I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I wasn’t –” Jon sighs. “My mental state aside, I trusted you. You were as stubborn as I was. Maybe more. Even if we weren’t friends, I imagine you’d have snubbed the Hunt anyway, just on principle.”

Before Daisy can reply, the earth around them begins to shake again, soil coming loose and raining down on them from above. They both hold their breath, waiting for the impending crush – but it doesn’t come, and after a few seconds, they exhale simultaneously. Jon’s comes out as something of a cough, jolted out of him by the now-familiar sensation of an insistent upward pull.

“Anchor’s back,” he gasps out. “Ready to move?”

As they move forward – up, Jon assures himself, we’re making progress – the perpetual squeeze begins to open up into a narrow passageway. Sometimes they need to dig to bypass blockages and widen their tunnel, but the closer they draw to the surface, the hard-packed earth gradually gives way to looser soil.

Between one moment and the next, Jon’s fingertips – already raw and bleeding from burrowing through the debris – scrape against something much harder and rougher than packed earth. Solid rock, hidden by a few inches of soil. He hisses as he feels another layer of skin peel away at the abrasive texture, but he brightens at the memory of the stone steps and walls at the entrance to the Buried.

“We’re getting close, Daisy,” he says excitedly, tugging on her hand. “We’re almost there –”

The Buried compresses in a blink, crushing them up against one another.

“Shit,” Jon hisses. “Shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

“Jon?” Daisy says, her voice pitched higher than usual, shot through with barely concealed panic.

“It’s okay, Daisy. This happened the last time, too. Just” – the earth contracts further, forcing a whine out of him – “wringing one last bit of t-terror out of us before we leave.”

“Th-that’s – greedy of it,” she rasps with a nervous chuckle.

“I find that – a-all the Powers tend to be – like that. Needy, spiteful things, all – all of them.”

So do their Avatars, for that matter. He thinks of how Helen couldn’t resist frightening him one last time before parting ways at Hill Top Road; of how Jude Perry knew she was going to die and chose to spend her last moments pulling him down to her level; of how Manuela Dominguez knew she had failed, but still wanted to take someone out with her; of how Peter Lukas couldn’t lose a bet gracefully, how he dragged Martin into the Lonely and tried to trap Jon there as well; of how Jonah wasn’t content to just have Jon read out his ritual, but had to hijack Jon’s voice to monologue first.

And Jon himself isn’t all that different, is he? Didn’t he force himself to confront Jonah in the Panopticon, even though he knew it would have no impact on anything? Doesn’t he regularly provoke the Eye with small acts of rebellion? How many times has he mouthed off to an assailant threatening his life? He just said it himself: spite can be a decent motivator. Failing that, sometimes it just feels satisfying.

“It’ll – let up,” Jon says, for himself as much as Daisy. “J-just – give it a minute.”

As if to be contrary, it actually takes several minutes before the pressure begins to withdraw. Slowly, so very slowly, the collapsed tunnel begins to expand again, releasing another downpour of dirt in the process. The passage is still tight and they have to squirm through in small increments, but after some of the squeezes they passed through on their way, even a few extra centimeters of wiggle room feels like a luxury.

That said, Daisy’s breathing is increasingly labored, punctuated by soft whimpers.

“You doing alright, Daisy?”

“Y-yeah, ‘m fine.” Her breath catches and comes out as a pained groan. “Chest hurts,” she says brusquely, before Jon can express concern.

“Your lungs aren’t accustomed to having this much room to expand,” he says instead, striving for a bland tone.

“W-well, they’ll just h-have to – get used to it.”

“They will, but – take it slow? Last time, you had a fair amount of bruising. A few cracked ribs as well. We both did.”

In fact, he thinks they might just be the exact same ribs he injured last time, if the pain is anything to go by.

“Listen,” he says, “I – I think we’re coming up on the exit soon.”

“Soon soon?”

“Fairly certain, yes. Before we leave, I should tell you – Elias doesn’t know that I’m from the future, doesn’t know how much we know, and I’d prefer to keep it that way as long as possible. He can’t See us while we’re in here, but as soon as we’re out – the only safe place is the tunnels, like before.”

“Got it.”

“And also, I…” Not much for it, he tells himself. Make your peace with it now. “I might lose my voice again as soon as we’re out. Maybe – maybe even before then.”

“Again?”

“I – I mean, I’ll be able to talk, just – not in my own words.” Jon tries to wet his lips and immediately regrets it, succeeding only in drawing more dirt into his mouth. He grimaces and sputters a bit, to no avail.

“Jon?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. I, ah – remember what I said, about – about the Archive? I’ve – outside of here, I’ve only been able to speak using the statements in my… library, I suppose.”

He says the last part with distaste, all but spitting the words out as if they’re poison.

“Huh.”

“It started partway through the apocalypse, and it followed me when I came back. Being in the Buried’s domain has cut me off from the Archive for now, but once the Eye can reach me again, I – there’s a chance it’ll take over again.” He sighs. “More than a chance, it’s – probably more of a certainty. I just wanted to let you know now, I – I’m still me, it’s just – the Archive puts limits on how I communicate, and it can be – off-putting. And annoying. And… abhorrent.”

“Abhorrent?”

“I mean… appropriating other people’s trauma any time I want to speak? It’s…”

There’s no succinct way to capture just how – how perverse it is, exploiting the words of the people who lived through the horrors retold in the statements. Some of them, Jon himself victimized. More than some, if he considers the billions he condemned in his future. Claiming their terror for his own use doesn’t feel all that different from actually taking statements: dehumanizing, objectifying, degrading. It’s all on the same ghoulish spectrum of monstrosity, just… slightly different shades of wrong.

All he says aloud, though, is the last part: “It’s wrong.”

And yet, you do it anyway, he thinks, disgusted with himself.

“Like going from one hell to another, isn’t it?” Daisy says after a pause. “Getting out of here, only for the Eye and – and the Hunt to be waiting on the other side.”

“Yeah. As much as I want to get out of here, I’m… not looking forward going back to – to that.” He sighs, then rallies himself. “But fresh air and a drink of water do sound nice, don’t they?”

“And a bath,” Daisy says, as if it’s the most beautiful word in the world. Jon laughs quietly.

“The Institute only has the one shower, I’m afraid. No tub, terrible water pressure, occasionally –”

“– occasionally runs cold without warning mid-shower,” Daisy finishes, an audible grin in her tone. “I recall. You won’t hear me complaining, though.”

“Nor me. Not for the next couple weeks, anyway.”

“Mm. Yeah, I’m sure you’ll hear me swearing up a storm at four in the morning about water temperature at some point.”

“Assuming that trivial detail hasn’t changed since I was last here, yes, I will,” Jon says with an amused chuff. He readjusts his grip on her hand and tugs gently. “Come on, we’re getting closer.”

Martin sits in his office, head in his hands and the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes.

Eight days. It’s been eight days since Jon went into the Coffin, there have been no signs of when – if – he’ll return, and there’s nothing Martin can do to reach him.

Stupid, he thinks fiercely, to think that sitting there and talking to a – a box of dirt would do anything.

Keeping vigil at Jon’s bedside at the hospital for months had done nothing to bring him back. Why would this be any different? When Martin’s predictions panned out, he felt almost vindicated that he was right – comforted by the confirmation that he is still all alone in the world, relieved by the reassurance that nothing will disturb his solitude after all.

There’s a part of him that still has the decency to feel ashamed at that impulse, but it’s small and distant and shrinking by the day. And yet… it’s still there, withered though it may be: a sentimental sliver of attachment that stubbornly refuses to die, both to his dismay and – to a lesser but nonetheless undeniable extent – his relief. No matter how pessimistic his outlook has become these days, he had still hoped against all the odds that reaching out to Jon would have some sort of effect.

It didn’t. Of course it didn’t. That sort of hopeless romanticism is for fairytales. Sure, given the existence of extradimensional fear entities, it isn’t inconceivable that some sort of… long distance psychic bond, or link, or – or whatever could exist. But Martin has yet to see any evidence pointing to the existence of powers like hope and love to balance out the existence of Smirke’s Fourteen.

That admission alone is enough to whittle away at that stubborn sentimentality of his just a little further.

And that’s for the best, he tells himself.

He can feel a bitter smile flicker at the corner of his mouth. The Lonely’s really got its hold on him, hasn’t it?

But no matter how well-suited he is to the Lonely, no matter how resigned he is to the idea that he’s destined to be alone, and that that’s exactly as it should be… Martin still cares for Jon. His emotions feel dulled most days, as if they’re happening to someone else, but the act of caring… he doesn’t have to feel in order to go through the motions. It takes effort and thought, certainly, but the impulse is second nature.

Peter tells him that he’ll be free of it before long. Martin doesn’t know how he feels about that. Nothing, usually, or something adjacent to it.

Apparently he hadn’t cauterized his feelings as much as he’d thought, though. For the past week, the sense of detachment he’s built up over months of practice and resignation and goal-oriented focus has been interrupted. The calm and quiet that have become so comfortable to him have been punctuated by windows of raw, wild emotion and sensory overload and sharp, racing thoughts, and it’s too much – especially all at once – after months of fog and cold and single-minded resolve.

He still doesn’t know what he feels, but it’s something rather than nothing, and it hurts.

“Brooding, are we?” comes a voice from right behind Martin, sending an icy chill through him.

“Peter!” Martin nearly snarls, glaring over his shoulder at him. “I told you to stop doing that –”

“So, Martin,” Peter continues, smoothly overriding Martin’s complaints, “I can’t help but notice you’ve been quite… distracted recently.”

Martin looks away, clenches his teeth, and says nothing.

“Oh, I’m not upset, Martin. I’m simply curious to know where we stand. To gauge the magnitude of this… little setback.”

“Setback?” Martin whips back around, incensed. “You really think I care about – about my progress right now?”

“Judging by your tone, I imagine not.” Peter smiles, that customary aloof smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Not very reassuring, but I thank you for your honesty. It shows that we do still have our work cut out for us.”

Martin should keep his composure. He should keep his mouth shut. He should feign indifference and continue playing the long game to which he’s committed himself, but he can feel his heart hammering in his chest and he can hear his blood rushing in his ears and all the words he cannot – should not – has to say are brimming in his throat and –

He almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when the outburst claws its way out.

“I don’t care, Peter. You promised –”

“That I would protect your coworkers from external threats,” Peter says mildly.

“You don’t think one of the Circus’s monsters just – waltzing unnoticed into the Archives hauling a bloody gateway to the – the literal manifestation of claustrophobia counts as an external threat –”

“By the time the intruder’s presence came to my attention, it had already been dealt with. Quite handily, in fact. As for the Coffin itself, our agreement did not extend to saving a self-destructive Archivist from his own foolhardiness. There’s only so much that I can do.”

“Then apparently I need to pick up your slack.”

Once again, Peter ignores him and steers the conversation to his liking.

“I will say, I was pleased to see that the Coffin’s call has no effect on you. It shows that your connection to the Forsaken is still intact.” Peter begins to pace slowly, hands folded behind his back. “I am interested to know why you’ve been spending so much time so close to it in the first place. Why you were… speaking to it.”

Martin huffs irritably. “I thought it might help.”

“I wonder where you got that idea.” When Martin doesn’t reply, Peter stops his pacing and sighs. “I don’t mean to be invasive” – Martin snorts derisively; Peter continues without pause – “but I notice you’ve spoken to that – woman quite a few times.”

“She’s no one,” Martin says hurriedly, hoping that Peter doesn’t notice his momentary nervous flinch.

“Is that so?” Peter gives a contemplative hum. “If she’s trespassing on Institute property and interfering with day-to-day operations, perhaps I should have her… removed.”

All at once, the world around Martin rushes into focus: clearer, sharper, brighter, louder, more real – every sensation more immediate, every thought more acute. He feels his spine go rigid as he sits up straight and locks eyes with Peter.

“Peter,” he says, balanced on a razor’s edge between firm and furious, “we talked about that. You agreed to let me handle –”

“Workplace disputes and employee conduct,” Peter says. “Not interlopers.”

‘Interlopers’? Martin thinks. Really, Peter?

“Here I thought you might be glad to have someone like her around,” he says, forcing calm back into his voice. “Give me some practice pushing people away.”

“Perhaps. But if she’s posing a distraction in the workplace –”

“Like the Archives aren’t a distraction all on their own,” Martin seethes, his impassivity quickly teetering into agitation again, “what with the – the spooky murder tunnels, and monster attacks, and clandestine coffin deliveries, and the watching –”

“You know what I meant. If she’s distracting you from your work –”

“When have I ever left any administrative tasks unfinished, hmm?”

“Martin.”

“Yes?” Martin says, meeting Peter’s eyes with a level stare. There’s a muscle twitching almost imperceptibly in the other man’s jaw. It’s not easy to provoke that sort of response from Peter, and Martin would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel just a bit gratified.

Peter takes a breath and when he speaks again, he’s regained his usual mild manner – but Martin can still detect just a hint of tension underneath.

“As I have told you before, you are the only one who can do this. The plan –”

“Which you have yet to explain –”

“– requires a servant of the Eye, imbued with the power of the Lonely. And the cultivation of that power depends on your voluntary isolation. I can’t force you to cooperate, Martin. I can only tell you of the consequences should the Extinction emerge – and if it emerges because you choose not to act, then, well…” Peter shrugs. “You can’t keep anyone safe from that sort of power, and that includes the Archivist.”

“You still haven’t convinced me that your theories regarding the Extinction are true.”

If anything, Martin is less convinced than ever. Jon didn’t exactly elaborate on what he knows, but he seems certain that the Extinction isn’t a threat. If that’s the case, the only other reason for Martin to cooperate with Peter is to keep Jon safe – or, barring that, to at least keep Peter away from him. And if Jon is gone, then… what’s the point of any of this?

Peter takes a step closer and slides a folder onto Martin’s desk. Judging by how thin it is, Martin doubts there’s much follow-up or supplementary material within.

“Then you’d best get reading,” Peter says amiably, backing away again.

“Peter,” Martin says, stopping him before he can take his leave.

“Hm?”

“If she disappears,” he continues, mirroring Peter’s faux-pleasant tone, “you can count on my non-cooperation going forward.”

“Come now, Martin. We both know you wouldn’t allow the Extinction to emerge over a single life.”

Martin lifts his chin defiantly and gives Peter a hard look.

“I’d do it for Jon.”

“And he’s gone.” There is an almost hungry glint in Peter’s pale eyes. The temperature plummets a few degrees as thin tendrils of fog begin to unfurl from around his feet. “You’re alone.”

“Exactly.” Peter’s smug expression wavers at Martin’s non-reaction. “You’re a gambler. Shouldn’t you recognize when you’ve shown your hand?” Martin shakes his head with a thin, humorless smile. The mist creeps closer: wispy eddies and grasping coils stretching across the floor to pool at Martin’s feet. “If Jon’s gone, you’ve lost your best bargaining chip. I’ve nothing left to lose. At this point, you really should be thankful for whatever leverage you can find.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Try me.”

Peter simply chuckles, but Martin can detect the faint uncertainty laced through it.

“I mean it. If my work performance is unsatisfactory, just feed me to your patron now if you can’t resist. Seems a waste to do it before you’ve gotten what you need from me, but it makes no difference to me; I’m Forsaken either way.” He leans back in his chair. “The only one who stands to lose anything is you.”

“And the entire world, should the Extinction evolve unchecked.”

“In that case, let her – let everyone connected with the Archives be. And don’t disappear any more staff, either.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds: “Or statement givers.”

There is a long silence in which Martin stares into Peter’s eyes, willing himself not to blink or falter. Eventually, the fog recedes and Peter’s fake, plastered-on smile reappears.

“Well, I think I’ve kept you from your work long enough.” Peter nods at the statement folder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The moment the telltale static of Peter’s departure fades, Martin lets out a heavy exhale and rests his head in his arms on his desk. Every encounter with Peter tends to leave him feeling drained, but that one was more intense than usual.

“Prick,” Martin mutters to the empty office.

It takes a few minutes for him to register the low whirring coming from underneath his desk.

“Were you listening the whole time, then?” Martin scoops up the tape recorder from the floor. “Or,” he sighs, his eyes flicking to the waiting statement, “are you just hungry?”

Martin still doesn’t know what to make of the recorders. On the one hand, supernatural artefacts never bode well. There’s no telling what’s they are, what’s listening on the other end, what controls their spontaneous appearance or why. Eavesdropping and surveillance are on brand for the Eye, but Jon had a point when he said that the Beholding would have no need to use tape recorders to listen in, especially within its own temple. They weren’t Elias’s doing – apparently all of his spying is done through eyes. The Web, maybe? But to what end?

On the other hand, Martin has grown so accustomed to their presence that he was actually unsettled by their absence while Jon was – away. When they started manifesting again, Martin was… relieved, almost. It isn’t the same as having Jon nearby, but it feels like having a connection to him all the same. They’ve almost become a welcoming, comforting sight – at least for the first few seconds after their appearance, before they start making their usual demands.

Sometimes, Martin wonders whether Jon might be subconsciously manifesting them himself. Even before his paranoid episode, he seemed keen to document and catalog the world around him, as if it was the only way for him to make sense of it all. It made Martin's heart ache, how Jon could never seem to relax, to let himself just be in the moment. His hypervigilance was exhausting by proxy, and it’s only gotten worse as time goes on.

In any case, ever since Jon’s coma – half-death? – proved that the recorders’ existence is dependent on his, Martin has started to see their regular appearances as decent indicators as to whether Jon is alive at any given moment. And here they are, still showing up. Which means… what? Martin already knew that Jon is still alive. The Coffin doesn’t let its victims die; death would be a release, and it's incompatible with a realm predicated on unending pressure, on the experience of being trapped with no hope of escape. But if Jon was entirely cut off from the world, lost and unreachable, wouldn’t his connection with the recorders be severed as well? So, if they’re still here, does that mean Jon isn’t gone yet? That there’s still a lifeline tethering him to the surface?

If so, it’s a useless lifeline, isn’t it? The tapes always make their way to Jon in time, but what good does that do in this situation? It’s not like they’re two-way radios; Martin can’t communicate with Jon in real time.

Unless…

No. No unless. It’s not even a long shot, it’s just – daft.

But hasn’t he already been treating them as stand-ins for Jon for the last few weeks? And is it really any more foolish than talking to a coffin?

Martin sighs as he eyes the tape recorder, its reels still insistently spinning. It isn’t going to leave until it gets a statement. He waits it out for another minute or so, but in the end he gives in, just like it knew he would.

“Hi again, Jon,” he starts, picking at his cuticles as uncertainly as he picks through his words. “I doubt you can hear me. At least not right now. But I know you listen to all the tapes eventually. Don’t know if you’ll ever get to hear this one, though. If not, I suppose this is rather pointless, isn’t it? You’re always so diligent about listening to them, too.” Martin huffs. “Well, if you want this one, you’ll have to come back and get it. I’m very cross with you, and I’d prefer to tell you in pers-”

Shut up, shut up, what are you saying?

The recorder lets out a short burst of static, as if protesting the break in his confession.

“Oh, shut it,” he grumbles. “Not – not you, Jon. Sorry. I mean, not like you’re hearing this anyway, right? Whatever, just – you’re needed here, alright? It’s been too long. It’s time to come home.” Martin shakes his head and smiles weakly. “Funny, I – I remember when I used to have to nag you to go home at night. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? Don’t know what good a persuasive argument does in this case, though. It’s not like you need convincing –”

Martin stops short, a sudden thought crystallizing cold and heavy in the front of his mind. For all he knows, Jon’s gotten it into his head that he needs to stay in there to keep the rest of the world safe. It sounds like the sort of conclusion Jon would reach.

“I mean, I – I – I hope you’re not willingly staying down there out of some misguided belief that it’s – safer, for everyone? Jon?” Martin laughs nervously, on the edge of hysteria. “I – I don’t know why I’m talking like I’ll get a response. Anyway, it’s – it’s probably more likely that you want to come back and you can’t, right?” He chuckles again, and realizes too late how teary it sounds. “I don’t even – I don’t know which of those options is worse, but – but it’s not like there’s anything I can do in either case, so – what’s the point of this, of any of this?”

Martin clamps both hands over his mouth to stifle his abrupt, stuttering intake of breath – the precursor to sobbing, if he isn’t careful. He takes a long moment to compose himself, swallowing back tears and slowing his breathing.

“W-well, in case you do need to hear it… things are not better with you gone, okay?” His voice still sounds thick with emotion. In an attempt to steady it, he ends up overcorrecting, his next words coming out far more vehemently than he had intended. “They aren’t. And I don’t know how to make you believe that, but – but – if you don’t come back, you’ll never get a chance to learn, and it’s not like you to pass up a chance to learn something, right, so – so just get back here, will you?”

He stops again. After months of suffocating, deadening quiet, raising his voice even slightly feels like shouting. He finds himself leaning closer towards the tape recorder, as if he’s sharing a secret. Despite the conscious effort to lower his volume, it does nothing to temper the intensity of his speech.

“Jon, you’re late, and everyone’s waiting. Georgie’s worried. Basira spends most of the day camped out in front of your office, just… listening for any change. I – I don’t think she’s been sleeping much. And Melanie, she –” Martin flounders. He hasn’t spoken to Melanie in weeks, but he has no reason to assume her feelings towards Jon have changed. “Well, she – she’ll be angry if you break a promise to Georgie, yeah? And I’m – I…”

Martin doesn’t know what he is.

“Look, Jon, you – you need to come back now,” he says, more softly. More like a prayer than a demand. “Come home, and we’ll… we’ll figure things out.”

He wracks his brain for more, but comes up speechless. There was a time when he could have spoken volumes about what Jon means to him, and the words would flow from him easily. Now, anything he could possibly say feels shallow and jumbled and meaningless. Absolutely useless. But since when did words make any difference anyway? Jon has always been resistant to an outstretched hand. He rarely accepted any offers of help or invitations to talk; could barely handle a kind word or comforting gesture some days. He seemed to be opening up in the weeks prior to the Unknowing, but then –

Martin lets out a sigh and shuts the tape recorder off. Almost immediately, it clicks back on.

“Seriously?” He stares daggers at the thing. “That wasn’t enough for you?”

He depresses the button again, perhaps a little harder than necessary. The moment he removes his finger, the reels resume winding.

“Can’t you just – piss off and let me have some quiet for five minutes?”

It can’t, apparently. After several more foiled attempts to stop its droning, Martin gives an aggravated groan. As tempting as it is to hurl it at a wall, all the archival staff know from experience that the recorders are practically unbreakable, taking only superficial damage regardless of the attempted means to destroy them. Martin could toss it into a bonfire and at most it would come out a bit worse for wear; the casing would never melt or warp so badly as to render the buttons entirely nonfunctional.

More than once, Martin has caught himself wondering whether they get their durability from Jon. It’s a morbid thought and Martin is always quick to shut it down, but, well – there it is again.

At least Jon’s persistence is – charming. Martin glares at the tape recorder some more. Unlike –

The recorder crackles with another impatient uptick of static.

“Fine!” He flips open the folder on his desk, seizes the statement roughly, and gives himself a papercut in the process. Another hiss erupts from the recorder when he swears. “Yeah? Well, I don’t care if personal commentary is unprofessional,” he snaps at it. He doesn’t know who he’s talking to.

When he finally turns his attention back to the statement in his hands, he makes no effort to hide his foul mood.

“Yet another statement about – I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s bleak and horrifying, or else it wouldn’t be so keen for me to read it. Recording by Martin Blackwood, Assistant to Peter Lukas, Head of the Magnus Institute…”

Daisy draws in a sharp breath and stops short.

“Daisy?” Jon tugs lightly on her hand. “You alright?”

“Jon, I – I feel something, like a – like a pull, I –” Daisy laughs breathlessly. “There’s an up.”

“What,” Jon says, grinning to himself, “didn’t you believe me?”

But Daisy isn’t listening to him, instead continuing in an awestruck tone: “I’m – I – I’ll get to – to see Basira again.”

Her voice pitches up ever so slightly towards the end, making the statement sound almost like a question – as if she didn’t believe until this moment that seeing Basira again was even a possibility, as if she still doesn’t quite dare to believe it.

Jon has repeated the same promise dozens of times now along their trek to the surface. Once more can’t hurt: “She’s waiting for you.”

“I know,” Daisy whispers, almost reverently. Then, louder, her mounting anticipation crowding out the remnants of disbelief: “I can feel it.”

So can Jon. For quite some time now, that feeling of being pulled along – almost like he’s an anchor being reeled in, oddly – has been relatively consistent. The strength of the sensation still fluctuates from time to time, but it’s been awhile since it last disappeared entirely.

Of course, now it’s also shot through with a far more unwelcome pull. He swears he can feel the Archive drawing closer the more they near the exit. Maybe it’s simply his imagination, increasingly overactive as his dread intensifies, but the outcome is the same either way: the Eye will have him again, and soon.

“Come on, then,” Jon says, suppressing the grim edge threatening to creep into his tone. There’s no point in worrying Daisy just when she’s started to feel hopeful. “Almost home.”

Not long thereafter, the passage widens again. They still have to walk single file with their shoulders angled, forced to sidle through a few tight spots sideways, but the soil has finally transitioned entirely to solid stone walls and there is a noticeable upward slant to their path. All the while, Jon doesn’t let go of Daisy’s hand.

He grits his teeth against the lancing pain surging through his leg with every step as the incline grows steeper. From the sounds of Daisy’s labored breathing behind him, she’s having a far worse time of it. He’s just about to reassure her again that they’re almost there when his foot connects with something and he stumbles, pitching forward and nearly pulling Daisy down with him. His free hand flails in front of him to break his fall, and that’s when he recognizes –

“Stairs,” he whispers, feeling the shape of them, their flat surfaces and angles.

“What?”

“Stairs, Daisy.” After pushing himself to his feet, he places his free hand against the wall as a guide. It’s still pitch dark, and it will be until they manage to lift the Coffin’s lid. “Not much further now. Watch your step, and go slowly. They’re uneven.”

Despite an abundance of caution, they both end up tripping several times on the way up. The steps are all different heights and depths: some short and wide shelves, some steep and narrow ledges nearing two feet high – which may seem negligible were they both not so weakened, winded, and wounded. Occasionally, a step that felt solid moments before would crumble underneath them, giving way like gravel; a few times, Jon could swear a step disappeared entirely just before he put his foot down.

He’s so focused on keeping his footing that he forgets to be wary of his head. When he places a foot on one particularly sheer step and propels himself upward with the other leg, his head collides violently with something just above him. The pain races through his skull, his neck, his spine, and he nearly topples backward in the momentary daze of the impact. He has just enough presence of mind to throw his weight forward so that when he loses balance, he collapses against the stairs instead of tumbling down them.

For a few seconds, all he knows is a high-pitched ringing in his ears and fireworks in his vision. He’s dimly aware of Daisy’s hands patting at him blindly, frantically; her voice is muffled, but he can detect the urgency there.

“‘M’fine,” he slurs. He tries to tell her to just give him a minute, that he recovers quickly from this sort of thing, but he’s pretty sure it comes out something more like gim’nit.

When he finally starts to come around, Daisy’s words, once fuzzy and indistinct, start to break through the haze: “Jon? Jon, are you alright?”

“Will be,” he groans. He pushes himself up with one hand and reaches up with the other, groping blindly. Either it’s closer than he thought or he put too much force into the gesture in his disorientation, but his knuckles collide with rough wood and he hisses when he catches a splinter.

“Jon?”

“Lid’s right above us,” he says unnecessarily. “Watch your head.”

Daisy snorts. “Noted.”

“I – I might need some help lifting it,” he says, his vertigo gradually fading. He places both palms flat on the underside of the lid. “Last time, it was a lot heavier on the way out than it was going in.”

“Got it.” Daisy crawls up a few steps to kneel next to Jon, and he can feel her hands brush against his as she reaches up to find a grip.

“Feel it?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Ready?”

“On three. One – two – three –”

As expected, it offers more resistance than it should, as if a force is pressing down from the other side. For a terrifying few seconds, it refuses to budge. Then, with a prolonged creak of protest, it starts to give. Even just the dim light of Jon’s office filtering through that first tiny crack is enough to hurt. Judging from the startled yelp next to him, Jon assumes Daisy is shutting her eyes as well.

Jon can hear the low chatter of the tapes he left behind, as well as something louder and clearer cutting through the white noise.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this on my own.” Basira’s voice, overlaid with the crackle of radio static. “I’m here, Daisy. I need you to be here, too. I need –”

As soon as the opening is wide enough to stick a hand through, the pressure lets up all at once and the lid swings up the rest of the way. Jon scrambles over the side and grabs both of Daisy’s hands, dragging her up and out. He winces sympathetically when she cries out – she hasn’t properly stretched those muscles in months, and it must be agony.

The moment she’s completely cleared the lip of the Coffin, Jon drops her hands and eases her to a kneeling position on the floor. Rising unsteadily to his feet with a pained groan, he takes hold of the lid and drags it back into place. He stumbles the short distance to his desk for the key and hastens to replace the chains and reaffix the padlock. On the way, he kicks a tape recorder and it goes sliding across the floor; an instant later, the knowledge comes to him: Not a tape recorder. A two-way radio.

His hands are shaking so badly that he fumbles the key four times before he manages to fit it into the lock. He’s so absorbed in that simple, seemingly insurmountable task that he barely notices the swearing and clattering coming from just outside the office as someone on the other side goes through the exact same struggle to unlock the door. Just as Jon turns the key, the office door swings open to reveal Basira, panting and wide-eyed, the radio in her hand dropping to the floor as her eyes rest on Daisy, shivering and gasping for air.

“You’re back,” Basira murmurs, frozen in place.

“Hi,” Daisy says with short, almost giddy laugh, before promptly collapsing forward onto the floor. It’s enough to spur Basira into action, lurching forward and going to her knees next to her.

“Daisy,” she says urgently, shaking her shoulder. “Daisy, please –”

“She’s – she’s alright,” Jon says breathlessly, on hands and knees in front of the Coffin, gulping for air to fill his screaming lungs. “Just – needs to –”

He freezes.

“Jon,” Basira says, disbelieving. “Your voice?”

“I – I – I thought I would – I would lose it again,” he stammers. He begins to move his hand up to his throat, but stops when his other arm trembles violently, unable to hold up his weight on its own. “I don’t – I don’t know, I – I might still, it – it –”

The thought turns to static and the words dissolve on his tongue.

“…it barely even sounded human as it – as it spoke in a strange monotone –”

Jon shakes his head frantically, bringing the lingering pain from his earlier head injury back into the forefront.

“…it was then that I became aware of them – hundreds of glossy dead eyes staring at me from all directions –”

“– a tremendous eye – turning to focus upon me –”

“– staring into me, acutely scrutinizing my reaction –”

“Jon!” He stops and looks up at Basira, suddenly realizing that she’s been repeating his name for several seconds now. “You’re hyperventilating. Just – breathe?”

He latches onto Basira’s voice, forcing himself to breathe – oh, god, he can breathe again –

“Good,” she says after a few moments, calm and steady. “Okay. Can you try talking again? No, Jon, listen – look at me,” she says when he shuts his eyes and starts shaking his head again. “Try talking again.”

“…but my inability to speak –”

“Humor me.”

“…it’s still there, still watching me. There’s nowhere I can go, a place I can hide that it doesn’t keep looking at me – I can’t sleep because they’re watching me – those unseen eyes that hover everywhere and won’t let me rest –”

“– I’m sorry – it won’t let me say the words –”

“Yes, you can,” she says. Firm, but not cruel. Authoritative, self-assured, decisive – a solid presence to fixate on. “You’re just – too in your own head. Focus on me and try again.”

“I –” he begins, then stops short. Not the Archive. He gives Basira an uncertain, panicked look.

“Keep going. Try – try something simple. Tell me your name.”

“My name is…” His voice quivers as he forces the words out one syllable at a time.

“Go on. Who are you?”

“The Arch –”

The Archive, he almost says, before a fearful part of him remembers that Jonah might be listening. Besides, right now it would be inaccurate, wouldn’t it. The Eye does not typically dispense outright falsehoods, and its Archive has no use for fictions. Deception is for the Stranger, for the Spiral, for the Web –

“Try again,” Basira says patiently, drawing his attention back to her. “Who are you?”

“The Archivi –”

“No. Who, not what.”

There is a long pause in which he cannot parse the instruction.

“Full name.”

“Jon,” he says slowly. The sound feels strange on his tongue. “Jonathan Sims. The Archivist.”

“Could’ve done without that last bit, but good enough.” Basira relaxes her posture. “You alright?”

“I – I don’t understand.” Lightheaded and trembling, Jon releases a shuddering breath and leans back on his heels, slightly hunched over with his hands on his knees. “How did you know that would work?”

“I didn’t. But you were spiraling, and I imagine that’s exactly what the Eye wants.”

“R-right. I, ah –” Jon runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know how long it will stay away, the Buried severed the connection temporarily, but now it –”

“Don’t dwell on it.” At his blank stare, Basira sighs. “Yes, I realize that’s not quite your speed, but try anyway.”

“But –”

“We’re dealing with things that feed on fear and can rewrite reality as they please, right? You said yourself that the feeling is all they care about. Maybe feeding it your fear just makes it easier for it to write your reality – in which case, accepting a hypothetical bad outcome as an inevitability is just creating a self-fulfilling prophecy for yourself.”

“That’s… certainly a theory,” he says cagily.

But it’s a theory that Basira must be invested in, because she leans forward, her eyes as bright and interested as when she’s engrossed in a good book or pouring over some compelling research.

“Yes, it is, but I don’t think it’s too far-fetched. Georgie and I have been pooling ideas, and – I don’t think ‘mind over matter’ is a panacea, but mental state does seem to factor in. I was studying the statements you left for me, the ones involving anchors, and – I’m still not sure about the exact mechanics, but would an anchor help someone survive one of the Fears if state of mind wasn’t a key variable? It might not be the most important aspect, but it does seem significant enough to affect the outcome. Not all the time – not even most of the time – but in some cases, at least. Under the right circumstances.”

“And the Fears wouldn’t even exist without minds to experience them,” Jon says, brow furrowed. It’s uncanny, hearing some of the same ideas he bounced off of Daisy to pass the time in the Buried parroted back at him by Basira now.

“Exactly,” she says excitedly, then closes her mouth just as she’s taking a breath to start on her next thought. She clears her throat, looking slightly self-conscious. “I’m getting sidetracked. We can talk more about it later. For now – priorities.” Her expression turns sharp and focused again. “What should we do with the Coffin?”

“Artefact Storage. Tell them – tell them about the compulsion, make sure they take special precautions. Maximum security. No interaction or hands-on research.” He forces the words out rapid-fire, still expecting the Archive to take over any moment. “Store the key separately, same restrictions. No public cross-referencing, keep the link between the two on a need-to-know basis, preferably restricted to the head of the department. In – in fact, refer them to case number 9982211. Joshua Gillespie had a rather – creative way of containing the key. Simple, but” – Jon laughs, shaking his head – “incredibly effective.”

“That’s…”

“The best we can do without –” Jon huffs. “Well, burying it. Sealing it in concrete.”

“Not a bad idea,” Basira says thoughtfully. She raises an eyebrow when Jon doesn’t reply. “Is it?”

“I – I don’t know. We got out, and it seems – wrong, to completely eliminate that possibility for all the other people trapped in there.”

“You think you can help them?”

“I… I doubt it,” he admits, voice dripping with guilt.

He could try, but he suspects he was only able to reach Daisy because he had a personal connection to her, plus the recording of her voice to help him navigate. Finding anyone else in there would mean wandering around aimlessly until he eventually crossed paths with someone by chance, hoping he could reach them before the Buried whisked him away again.

“But if someone else does make it this far,” he says, “I – I don’t want to be the one responsible for the moment they try to lift the lid and find it cemented shut. The chains will still be there, but at least there’s a chance of someone hearing them, helping them? Probably not, but – sealing it off entirely feels… I don’t know, final? Like we would be condemning them personally.”

“Yeah, okay.” Basira sighs heavily, absentmindedly stroking Daisy’s hair. “Point taken. Can you stand?”

“Not yet. Give me a few minutes. I’ll – I’ll be fine here, though, if you want to move Daisy. Put some distance between her and the Coffin. It’s a good idea.”

“Don’t read my mind, Jon.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? I don’t feel right leaving you alone after…”

Jon meets her eyes again, tilting his head to the side slightly. Last time, she had no qualms about ushering Daisy away from the Coffin the moment she got a chance. She didn’t leave him alone for long – she wasn’t cruel – but still, he was undeniably a lower priority. He clears his throat and tries to look less stunned.

“I’ll be alright, I promise. Go ahead.”

Basira watches him shrewdly, frowning as she considers her options. Eventually, her shoulders slump and she relents.

“If you’re sure. I won’t be gone long.”

“Careful moving her,” Jon says. “Sorry, that – probably goes without saying? But just – mind her left side. She has cracked ribs on both sides, but two on the left are broken.”

A flash of sympathetic pain and vicarious anger crosses Basira’s expression.

“Thanks for the heads up.” Her voice is clipped, but not unkind. She’s simply trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions: deal with the situation at hand first, break down later – in privacy – if at all. “As soon as I have her settled, I’ll come back and – and help you move.”

He nods tiredly.

“Jon.” Basira waits until he looks back up at her. “Thank you – for… I really thought I’d never – I…”

“Basira, it’s okay,” he says as she fumbles for words. “I understand.”

“You know, or you Know?”

“Oh, uh…” Jon grimaces. “Maybe both? I’m sorry –”

Basira snorts and begins to gently position Daisy to be moved. “I was teasing, Jon.”

“O-oh. Right.” He shifts awkwardly. “Still, though, I – I apologize. I realize the Knowing can be – invasive, and – I don’t have as much control over it as I would like, but I should –”

“Jon, it’s fine.” Basira says it with an air of finality, but she doesn’t sound angry. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Sure,” he says, not quite knowing what to do with her lenience. “Thank you. I’ll just – I’ll just wait here.”

“Yes, you will. You’ve met your self-sacrifice quota for the month. No more pocket dimensions. In fact –” She stands and swipes Jon’s phone off his desk where he left it, handing it down to him. “Call Georgie, let her know you’re home. Keep you occupied until I get back.”

As Basira leaves with Daisy, Jon does exactly that. Georgie picks up on the first ring.

“Jon? Jon, is that you?”

Jon closes his eyes and smiles at the sound of her voice.

“Yeah, Georgie. It’s me. I’m back.”

“You got your voice back?”

“Seems so,” he says tentatively. “For now, anyway.”

Something about the tone of Georgie’s sigh tells him that she’s rolling her eyes at him.

“Why are you such a pessimist?”

“I’m not, I’m a –”

“Don’t you dare say ‘realist.’” He keeps his mouth shut. “Does Basira know you’re back?”

“Yes –”

“Are you hurt?”

“No – well, I mean, yes, but – nothing too serious. Nothing unexpected. I’m alright.”

“Okay. Did you find Daisy?”

“Yes. She’s with Basira now.”

“Good.” Georgie breathes a sigh of relief. “I was worried, Jon. Do you know how long you were gone?”

“I –” Jon pauses as the knowledge comes to him. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m – I’m sorry, Georgie, I really didn’t expect it to take – and it’s impossible to tell time in there, so –”

“It’s – it’s alright, I’m just – glad you’re back. Did you let Martin know?”

“Not – not yet, I – I’m not sure how he would feel about me contacting him.” Jon bites his lip. “Do you think I should?”

“Don’t know. He doesn’t seem to know what he wants. But I’ve spoken to him a few times now, and he seems to be – I don’t know. Thawing, I guess? Seems less cold. Easier to get through to him than it was that first time. Or – easier to get a rise out of him, at least. He’s actually got some fire in his eyes now.”

Jon smiles to himself again.

“Georgie Barker, are you annoying him out of the Lonely?”

“I –” She pauses, considers, and then chuckles. “You know – maybe? In my defense, it’s not difficult to do. He’s very moody.”

“O-oh. That’s…”

“Not necessarily a bad thing, Jon. I mean, it can’t be comfortable for him, but – at least he’s feeling something, interacting with the world around him? It’s like – well, he sort of reminds me of…”

“What?”

“Me, at certain points in my life? I think I’ve told you before, but – the lowest low of a depressive episode for me has always been when nothing can reach me. Feeling nothing, wanting nothing, being unable to envision any sort of future at all and not even caring about it.”

“You did, yes. I – don’t think I fully understood then, but now, I – I think I have an idea.”

“Well, when I start to get better, it can look like I’m getting worse to other people, because they can see the hurt, where before it was – quiet, subdued. All the things I couldn’t feel before, they all come out at once, and it’s – overwhelming, after so much nothingness. But it’s part of the healing. At some point, you have to let yourself feel again, even if it hurts. I know it’s not a perfect analogy, but – this might not be a bad sign, is what I’m saying. Sometimes recovery is messy. It helps to have someone to lean on for support.”

“But if he’s determined to be alone –”

“The thing is, I don’t think he is. But that’s something he needs to figure out for himself. I’m not saying you can’t remind him from time to time that he isn’t alone, but…” She exhales heavily. “You can’t force someone to accept help. You reached out to him. Give him the space to reach back.”

“So… don’t contact him? Because – because I want to respect his boundaries, but –”

Georgie gives an exasperated but fond-sounding sigh.

“Jon, if you want a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, I can’t help you there.”

“But – but what do you think –”

“I think it’s your call. He might not respond, but… he’s been worried, and I do think he would appreciate knowing you’re back.”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise.

“Well, you think on it,” Georgie says. “Listen, I’m walking out the door now, okay? Be there soon.”

“Oh, uh – right. I’ll – see you then, I suppose.”

“You’d better.”

When the call ends, Jon stares fixedly at a speck on the wall, debating whether or not to… what, send an email? That seems too impersonal, but a phone call might be too much. He could always text, but…

Glancing at the screen, he notices that he has several missed text messages. His thumb hovers uncertainly over the icon. It’s unlikely that any of them are from Martin, but he has an irrational need to prolong the confirmation one way or another, to put off knowing as long as –

The Eye informs him that they’re all from Naomi, and Jon heaves an agitated sigh. Not at the knowledge itself – he enjoys his interactions with Naomi, however sparse his side of the conversation tends to be these days – but at having the option of knowing removed from him. When he starts to read her messages, though, his sour mood rapidly evaporates.

“There,” he says with a private little smile. “One for each day I was gone. To start with.”

Once he sends the reply, he sets the phone aside. His mouth is dry, the taste of dirt clinging to his tongue. Luckily, he thought ahead and stored some water bottles here for when he got back, knowing it would take some time before he was ready to drag himself to the breakroom for a drink. Unluckily, he’d been so preoccupied with all his other preparations in the half-hour prior to entering the Coffin that he hadn’t had the foresight to put them within easier reach. As it is, they’re still stored in the hollow under his desk.

He’s still sore and stiff and lethargic, but the prospect of washing the grit out of his mouth is enticing enough to get him moving. Gingerly, awkwardly, he shuffles around to the other side of the desk. It’s slow going; he practically has to drag himself, and he spares a moment to be glad that no one is here to watch him.

Well. Except the Eye, he supposes. And possibly Jonah.

A noticeable chill shivers through him and his breath catches in his throat. Jon shakes his head to rid himself of the thought. He really needs to stop giving Jonah Magnus real estate in his head.

Just as Jon gets a grip on one of the bottles, his phone dings from where he left it on the floor. He bumps his head on the underside of the desk when he starts – not as hard as he did in the Coffin, but enough to send a new wave of pain coursing through him from head to toe. The phone dings several times more in quick succession.

“Okay, alright, give me a minute, Naomi,” he grumbles, rubbing the sore spot at the top of his head. No blood, but there’s definitely a bump. It won’t be there for long. He should be glad for his healing abilities, he supposes, inhuman though they may be.

The text messages continue pouring in as he makes the return journey to his previous spot.

“Guess she really is sending a photo per emoji,” he says to himself. The alert goes off once more just as he reaches for it. “Or more than one.”

When he glances at the screen, it’s not Naomi’s name that he sees.

Martin is typing up the new rota that Peter requested when it happens.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a tape recorder drops onto his desk with a loud clack. Before he can think on its sudden appearance, another comes plummeting down, smashing two of his fingers against the keyboard.

“Ow! What the –”

Another collides with the top of his head, and on impulse he covers himself with both arms. Four more fall – one glancing his elbow, three clattering to the floor around him – and then there’s a lull. Cautiously, he brings his arms down and looks to the ceiling, half-expecting more to come raining down. When none do, he relaxes somewhat.

“Huh,” he says to himself, bewildered. “That’s new.”

He’s used to the tape recorders materializing, of course, but usually it’s only one or two at a time, and they don't drop from the ceiling. They just appear – sometimes within plain sight, but more often slightly hidden from view: under his chair, behind his computer, once in a potted plant in the breakroom. They always click and whir to announce their presence – as if they want to be found, as if to reassure him that they aren’t trying to spy unnoticed.

Martin rolls his eyes at himself. Why is he always anthropomorphizing them, assuming they have intentions?

In any case, being pelted with a tape recorder shower is unprecedented. He rubs his hand where the second recorder hit him, then his head. He’s bound to have bruises, and his fingers are already swelling up.

“What the hell, Jon?”

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he has his phone in his hand and he’s tapping out a text message.

He briefly contemplates taking shelter under his desk. When no more fall, he turns his attention back to his phone.

Martin leans back with a sigh, dragging one hand down his face. What is he doing? It’s not like Jon is waiting by the phone for him.

Maybe that’s exactly why he’s doing this. It certainly highlights the loneliness. He probably wouldn’t be texting Jon if there was any chance of him answering, would he?

In the span of a blink, that loneliness turns to frustration. For months, his emotions have been dulled, almost to the point of numbness. Things were quiet. It felt comfortable; it felt right; it almost felt safe, the fog blanketing the world and muffling all of its sharp edges, shielding him from all the things that used to leave him hurt and grieving and wanting.

Then Jon went and ripped that blanket off him, leaving him exposed all over again. Ever since, it's been nothing but sensory overload and raw emotion that doesn’t even have a name. All he knows is that it’s too much and it’s all at once and he has nowhere to put it, and it’s manifesting as irritability and mood swings and a pervasive, indistinct sense of hurt that he thought he’d left behind.

He feels everything after months of feeling next to nothing, as if all the things he wouldn’t allow himself to feel are being regurgitated all at once in a nebulous chaotic tangle, and he isn’t equipped to handle it –

“Alone,” he says aloud. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s too much to cope with on his own. He is alone, and for the first time in what feels like forever, that scares him.

Biting his lip until he tastes blood, he picks up his phone again.

He blinks back tears. It feels wrong, unloading all of this onto Jon, but he’ll never see it, so what does it matter? It has to go somewhere or Martin is going to shatter.

Martin stops mid-rant, mind going blank when the typing indicator pops up. For a seemingly interminable amount of time, he holds his breath, watching as it stops and starts and hesitates before finally –

And before Martin realizes it, there’s a tearful, slightly manic laugh bubbling up in his chest and out through his mouth and he’s crying, when did he start crying? He's giving himself whiplash with his own erratic mood swings, but it doesn't matter, because he can just picture how frantic Jon is right now, stumbling over his words, mussing up his hair and muttering to himself. Martin probably shouldn’t find it so endearing, but when has that ever stopped him?

Martin rubs furiously at the tears streaking down his cheeks, sniffling. He’s debating on responding to save Jon from his own self-consciousness when another few messages come through.

Martin can’t help it: he starts laughing again. Then immediately feels a bit bad about it. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it before the next message comes through.

“Jon,” Martin says, shaking his head in fond amusement.

This is a side of him that Martin has always adored: how easily he gets sidetracked and carried away with his rambling, his tendency to trip over his words when he’s excited, the informational diatribes he launches into at the drop of a hat.

And now Martin’s tearing up again.

“God, what’s wrong with me,” he sniffs, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve again.

It’s the heart that does it. Martin doesn’t know why – it’s such a little thing – but that last ounce of doubt evaporates and his reticence crumbles, just like that. The transition is unexpectedly gentle: an easy slip from one state into another, like stepping into a well-worn shoe, a stark contrast to the dramatic, jarring shift he would have anticipated.

He begins typing out a response.

Martin smiles into his hand, pressed to his lips. He’s always found it cute, if a bit silly, how stilted Jon can be sometimes, even when speaking through such informal medium.

And the idea that an emoji is somehow more forward than an overt declaration of love is just…

Martin’s heart glitches at the reminder of what Jon must have just gone through. If he really is more receptive to help now, maybe he can be persuaded to actually rest and recover for once, but Martin doesn’t have his hopes up.

Martin can feel the flush creeping up his neck and onto his face.

“Wait,” Martin says, squinting down at his phone screen. “Is he still…”

“Unbelievable.” Martin huffs an incredulous laugh. “He is unbelievable.”

Martin groans when the three dots repeatedly disappear and reappear.

“That’s a lot of typing for just fixing a typo,” Martin says, tapping his foot impatiently. “Go on, Jon, spit it out.”

Martin rubs the back of his neck and tries to ignore the heat pooling in his cheeks, on his neck, along the tops of his ears. One good thing about the Lonely: it all but eliminated his embarrassing tendency to broadcast his emotions to the world with a blush. Or maybe it just made it so that there wasn’t much to broadcast in the first place.

“So much for that,” he mutters sheepishly.

By necessity, Martin has learned to be adaptable. If circumstances have changed this drastically, he needs to reconsider his trajectory. Steeped in some disorientating mixture of emotion – mortification, giddiness, fear, relief, regret, and so much else he still can’t put a name to – he watches the clock and quietly starts to review his options.

End Notes:

hhhhhh hopefully you’re all okay with a slow-moving plot bc I have a feeling I’m going to continue drawing out the character-focused stuff?? (I know where the story’s going but my outline is extremely loose, which means my pacing has a personality of its own.)

Citations for Jon’s Archive-speak: MAG 144; 054/020/083; 002; 060/019

re: Archive-speak – I do plan on explaining the newest development more, I just didn’t get to it in this chapter. But expect more original dialogue from Jon from here on out, with some Archive-speak mixed in.  

I used this lovely guide to help me puzzle through creating an AO3 workskin so I could format the text messages properly. (On which point, I hope the texting isn’t OOC. I admittedly had a bit too much fun with it. Especially Jon’s. He said ADHD!Jon rights and I agreed.)    

Fun fact: Naomi and Jon have a system wherein any cat emoji translates to “Duchess status update, please”. It’s good she takes a lot of photos, because Jon makes judicious use of the cat emoji. Having a bad time? 🐱 Can’t sleep? 🐱 Bored? 🐱 Just looking for something to distract himself from the mortifying ordeal of Knowing and being Known? 🐱 Of course, she sends a lot of photos unprompted, too, as any new Enthusiastic Cat Parent is wont to do.

[bigfan-fanfic]

What I’ve Learned from Disney Princesses

Sorry - super long post that isn’t a fic and doesn’t have anything to do with much. Just a rant - something I thought about and had to write down.

I firmly believe that in life, we are always learning. And from a young age, I have been learning from Disney - I think that my rather large vocabulary comes from learning Disney songs by heart at a young age - there are some pretty complicated words in there, people!

I was born and currently identify as male, but the Disney Princess movies have taught me valuable lessons over my life. The Princesses espouse admirable qualities, teach life lessons, and introduce us to the harsh truths of life. I’d like to share with you what I found the message these characters send to be, and maybe see if anyone feels the same?

So, under the break, I’m going to discuss all 12 of the official Disney Princesses, as well as Elsa and Anna, because I feel they have a lot to offer as far as life lessons go.

1. Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

Snow White does teach valuable lessons. She is just a young girl during the movie, but she shows remarkable fortitude in her ordeals. She does put herself in a servant role to the Dwarfs, but think about it -she’s been made a servant by her stepmother, so it’s likely the only thing of use she knows how to do. Not to mention she’s paying for her lodging and food by working. Snow is a princess, but she shows remarkable humility by being willing to work and earn her keep. 

Snow’s story also teaches us the downfalls of seeing the good everywhere. A little bit of cynicism is healthy, and keeps us alive. Snow’s willingness to see the good is what allows her to be so cheerful and loving towards the Dwarfs, but also makes her an easy target for a certain apple salesperson.

Be humble. Be fair. And don’t be so trusting.

2. Cinderella (Cinderella)

Cinderella might seem to be a passive, submissive example of a princess who “needs a man to rescue her.” But I think differently. Cinderella shows courage and strength in doing the only thing she can: surviving. Think about it: Cinderella has basically no other option but to be slave to her stepfamily. Her mother and father are dead. But does she complain? Does she give in to the idea that there might not be a single human left in the world who cares about her?

No.

Cinderella teaches us the quiet strength of endurance, of compassion and love even when we don’t receive any. Cinderella remains positive and hopeful in the face of adversity, and she is rewarded. 

Cinderella teaches us the harsh truth that sometimes, we have no other option but to muddle through and hope. Dreaming and wishing can be our refuge, and we must not let ourselves be broken by our circumstances. We must always show compassion and love where we are shown none, to those that need and deserve it. Cinderella cares for her animal friends, even though they can not conceivably do anything for her, and this “paying it forward” is rewarded.

And yes, Cinderella does have to depend on the kindness of others. But this in itself is a lesson. We, like Cinderella, do not always have agency over our lives. Sometimes we are kept from the ball. Sometimes the spell has to end at midnight. But Cinderella’s endurance and spirit is what sees her through.

Be strong. Be kind. Be like Cinderella.

3. Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

True, there isn’t much to take from Aurora’s actions, due to her getting little screen time. But, Aurora teaches us the power of intent. She has been sheltered all her life and cut off from contact. And yet, she is unafraid to dream of finding more. And she does, though probably not how she expected to.

Aurora teaches us the harsh truth that we can be punished for something we had no control over. She was cursed to effectively die for an insult her parents gave! (Incidentally, a lesson I learned from Sleeping Beauty was to show respect at all times, to avoid grudges) 

Aurora may not teach us much directly. Her lessons involve having no control, and just having to deal with it.

So, yes, there will be times when your life won’t be fair. And, sorry, but you’ll just have to hope for the best. Hold on to your dreams for when life hits you hard.

4. Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

For a long time, Ariel was my least favorite Disney Princess. She’s the “girl who has everything” but can’t appreciate it.  She’s got material goods, family who cares, friends, a killer singing voice, but she takes it all for granted. Not to mention she skips out on prior commitments for selfish reasons. But Ariel teaches us a lesson about parenting that we would do well to remember:

Share with your child. Ariel’s curiosity about the surface world stems from her father’s insistence that she should never come in contact with it. Triton could’ve avoided a whole lot of trouble by maybe showing Ariel the human world a little at a time, or told her about why Ursula was so bad. 

Ariel also a lesson of her own: that it is okay to depend on others. Yes, she needs Sebastian to help her romance Eric. Yes, she needs Eric to help her defeat Ursula. But these do not make her weak. Ariel’s pure love and curiosity for whatever she happens to come across is her strength, and is what charms everyone around her. She is willing to selflessly defy her father in order to save a surface person from almost certain death. We all need to realize that we are not alone in this world, and it is okay to rely on those we can trust. When, like Ariel, we are voiceless, we should be able to count on our loved ones for support.

So, parents, share and be honest with your children. Kids, know that you aren’t alone, that it’s okay to rely on your parents and friends for stuff. You aren’t weak. We all need each other.

5. Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

Belle is possibly my favorite Disney Princess of all time. She’s got it all: brains, confidence, beauty. But the real virtue she shows us as people does not come from her book learning. It comes from emotional intelligence. Belle’s greatest quality is her understanding. 

Belle lives in a small town full of “little people,” and she is insecure about how different she is from them. The repetitive life they lead is not enough for her, and she wonders if anyone can understand her. There’s “no one [she] can really talk with.” And later, the villagers will state in “The Mob Song” that “we don’t like what we don’t understand; in fact it scares us, and this monster is mysterious at least.”

She is the only one who can see through the facade that Gaston puts on for all the villagers. She is able to see through the Beast’s posturing and get him to become the man inside. Belle sees Cogsworth’s pride and uses it to get him to show her the castle, and recognizes that the Beast won’t hurt her. Her understanding of people, and her ability to look past the outer shell is her greatest power, and ultimately allows her to break the curse by recognizing her love for the Beast, despite how mean and vicious he may appear. Belle shows us the value of attempting to understand those that may look and behave differently from us, and how reaching across that divide may not be as difficult as we think.

Belle’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that talent and wisdom often go unappreciated compared to beauty and looks. No one believes “Crazy Old Maurice” when his word is against Gaston, the village golden boy. None of the villagers see anything other than a scary, mysterious castle with a vicious beast in it. Even the Beast himself was cursed due to his inability to look past the Enchantress’ disguise. 

So seek to understand those you meet, both their flaws and qualities. And don’t judge a book by its cover. 

6. Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jasmine is pretty cool. She has a pet tiger, so... 

Anyway, Jasmine shows us how to be free. She doesn’t want to be wed to someone she doesn’t love, and so she tries to escape her life. She has Rajah attack suitors who try to get too close. She doesn’t take anything from anyone. Jasmine is generous and righteous, and although she might get into trouble due to her sheltered upbringing, Jasmine teaches us that we can’t let people deny us our freedom.

But Jasmine’s story teaches us the harsh truth that there are people out there who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Jafar resorts to manipulation, mind control, and then outright force to get what he wants. Even Aladdin uses the Genie’s incredible power to deceive his way to Jasmine. But even though Prince Ali seems perfect, Jasmine doesn’t really start to like him until he semi-reveals himself as Aladdin by asking her “do you trust me?” And Jasmine defies Jafar, even when he has the Genie’s power, even when he has her father under his power.

So, even when the greedy and selfish seek to use you, remember to hold on and exercise your freedom. It’s your life.

7. Pocahontas (Pocahontas)

Pocahontas is possibly the most controversial on the list, but I think that she is important in the lessons she can teach.

Pocahontas is independent and true to herself, but she also wrestles with tough inner conflict from duty. She wants to hope that something “waits just around the riverbend” but is in conflict with her tribe’s mantra of keeping steady and not rocking the boat. But her greatest virtue is her commitment to peace.

 Pocahontas not only promotes peace between cultures, but peace between man and nature. “We are all connected to each other/in a circle, in a hoop that never ends.” Pocahontas believes in this value of peace so much that she is willing to sacrifice herself for love rather than live in a world where war has broken out among the two sides. Her main adviser is not a human, but a spirit of nature itself. 

And the movie reveals harsh truths about how people treat those they do not understand. The song “Savages” is especially poignant, as Pocahontas deals with her inability to save John Smith while both sides abandon any hope for peace/cooperation and prepare for war. A strain from “Listen With Your Heart” plays before the second part of the song, showing that Pocahontas will either prove that peace is possible or die trying. As the end of the song arises, Pocahontas throws herself onto John Smith, forcing her father to either choose to back down or to kill his own daughter. 

Yes, Pocahontas sanitizes a lot of the struggle of the period. But the idea that one selfless act has the power to affect change is a powerful one. Pocahontas shows us that peace is an ideal worth dying for, even when it seems that no one will listen.

8. Mulan (Mulan)

Mulan starts her film chafing against her society’s constraints, unable to be herself and attempting to force herself into the mold of “perfect porcelain doll” that she is expected to be. Mulan’s love for her father is what motivates her to join the army in his place. Ironically, as her story deals with deception and deceit for the greater good, Mulan teaches us to be true to ourselves.

While she masquerades as Ping, Mulan is largely ineffectual, starting a camp-wide brawl on her first day and earning enmity from her comrades by adopting an overly-macho facade. It’s only when Mulan uses skills from her true personality that she thrives. Her ingenuity is foreshadowed in the way she does her chores by setting up Little Brother to do them, her sense of fairness is shown when she gives a little girl back her doll, and her incredible persistence is shown in the way she steadfastly goes through with the matchmaking ceremony, even when she has to resort to cheating to get through it. 

Mulan’s creativity allows her to climb the pole to retrieve the arrow, and her victory against Shan Yu in the mountains is brought about by her creative use of the cannon to cause an avalanche.

Mulan teaches us the harsh truth that there are things in life that we will just not be good at. Mulan does not excel at the memorization and graceful movements that other girls in her society are expected to use. But she does excel at tactics, thinking creatively, and adapting to situations as they come. And though her society prevents her from using her true talents, she finds a way to break out of that box and use her abilities to their fullest extent.

We all have our strengths and talents, and we must find a way to use them rather than be constrained by the norms of society. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”

9. Tiana (The Princess and the Frog)

Tiana is different from the other Princesses because her best quality is also her flaw - she is focused and hard-working. Tiana is so diligent towards achieving her goals that she doesn’t allow herself to enjoy life. Tiana mostly teaches others how to focus on what they really want, but she’s got her own lesson to learn. 

“I remember Daddy told me/”Fairy tales can come true,/ But you’ve got to make them happen/it all depends on you.” Tiana has learned this lesson that blood, sweat, and tears are dependable - fairy godmothers are rare. It is hard to determine what Tiana needs to learn because she has so many good qualities - responsibility, self-sufficiency, diligence

“Blue skies and sunshine” are what Mama Odie recommends to her, and Tiana realizes that she doesn’t have to deny herself fun to achieve her goals. She starts out with several jobs to save up for her restaurant, and it all turns out to be for nothing. Tiana already knows that she must rely on herself to make her dreams come true, but she needs to learn to stop and smell the roses. She learns that she doesn’t have to solely dedicate herself to one thing. She can take time for fun, time to dance with her mother before getting back to work.

But Tiana’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that people are often far too open to temptation. “This whole town can slow you down/People taking the easy way...” Dr. Facilier and the Friends from the Other Side take advantage of what people want but don’t want to work for in order to manipulate them. “You got what you wanted/But you lost what you had.” Tiana, however, recognizes the value of hard work and does not give in to the Doctor’s manipulations. Even when Facilier gives her her restaurant, where she is loved and respected and dressed up, she quickly realizes it is nothing but an empty offer. Tiana does what none of the other characters tempted by Facilier have been able to do - say no.

So, work hard, but don’t forget to play sometimes. And know that your dreams won’t come true overnight - hard work is often needed.

10. Rapunzel (Tangled)

Rapunzel’s story teaches us perseverance. Every year, the king and queen send up lanterns for the lost princess - never losing hope that their daughter is out there. And it is these very lanterns that draw their daughter back to them. Rapunzel perseveres in her tower, waiting for her life to begin. And when opportunity finally strikes, Rapunzel seizes it. She doesn’t just grab the bull by the horns, she swipes it upside the head with a frying pan!

Rapunzel teaches us the harsh truth that trust is never to be taken for granted. Even the people who are supposed to love us and care for us might not always have our best interests at heart. Rapunzel spends much of the movie fearful that she is betraying her mother, only to find out she was lied to her whole life. The folks at the Snuggly Duckling encourage her to chase her dreams, but also inadvertently set Gothel on her trail. And Gothel is easily able to manipulate Rapunzel into distrusting Eugene.

So never give up, and be sure that those you place your trust in deserve it.

11. Merida (Brave)

Merida, like Mulan, struggles with societal constraints. Like Ariel, she can be flighty and irresponsible. But ultimately, Merida teaches us about the give and take of relationships, even among parents and children. Merida feels her mother lacks understanding. And her mother feels the same. Their relationship, once so close, is broken by the divide between them, represented by Merida’s damaging of the tapestry her mother made.

As Merida and Eleanor go through their journey, Merida learns about her mother’s strength and power, which comes from calm words and the bearing of a leader

12. Moana (Moana)

Moana is a really great addition to the lineup. She’s strong, funny, and smart, and she is wise. Moana, unlike Mulan, does not struggle with fitting in to society. She is able to competently assume the role of chief under the guidance of her father. And it is important to note that when Moan first tries to go to the sea, she fails. It is only when she does so in order to save her people that she succeeds. 

So, Moana’s virtue is also her tough lesson. There are things in this world more important than ourselves. Maui’s need to be loved is also the source of his great insecurity, and led him to steal the heart of Te Fiti. Te Ka’s anger nearly prevents Moana and Maui from restoring her heart. Moana’s grandmother and mother teach her the power of selflessness. Moana’s grandmother is the one to teach her about their people’s past as voyagers, and Moana’s mother - though she may fear for her daughter’s life - allows her to go and helps her pack for her journey. And Moana teaches Maui about doing things for others, not for gratitude, but because it is right. 

And Moana leads her people into voyaging once more. Not because she desired to go to the sea, but because it is the way of her people that was forgotten. Because it was the only solution to save her people when they began to overfish and helps spread them across the world. Moana’s motivation grows from a selfish one to a selfless one. And in a weird way, this comes from self-acceptance. “I Am Moana” is what she learns, that she can do things, and her talents are to be used to help her people, not just herself. 

Be yourself. Use your talents and follow your dreams. But never forget to use your abilities and gains for the good of others.

13. Elsa (Frozen)

Elsa is forced for much of her life to live in isolation, even from her beloved sister, which practically destroys their relationship. “Let It Go” may be a song for accepting herself, but it also occurs in isolation. Elsa feels the only way she can be herself is through this isolation. “Yes, I’m alone, but I’m alone and free.” She’s not really accepting who she is, but rather accepting the idea that she’s a dangerous monster, but when no one’s there for her to hurt, she can be happy.

Elsa learns through her sister’s love that she isn’t a monster. And she learns that love is how she can control her powers. Her parents worry that her powers will make her a target, but the fear of herself instilled in her makes them more uncontrollable. After all, if Elsa’s had these powers all her life (and shows remarkable control over them at a young age), the loss of control is directly linked to self-suppression. It is only when Anna sacrifices herself that Elsa regains true control -  because Anna repeatedly shows that she loves her sister, no matter what. And this unconditional love makes Elsa truly believe that she isn’t a monster.

So, Elsa teaches us that to truly accept ourselves, we need to accept others. You don’t have to be as cheery and personable as Anna, but isolation isn’t healthy.

14. Anna (Frozen)

Anna, meanwhile, learns a similar lesson. Also forced into isolation, Anna desires to have experiences, to live life. “For the First Time in Forever” really indicates Anna’s longing for connection and experience. Part of why she’s so willing to love Hans and believe he loves her is because of this isolation. In her point of view, Elsa rebuffs her one day with no warning, and practically never even sees her again for years. “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” shows Anna’s regret and sadness as the years pass, and is heartbreaking as she slowly stops trying to communicate with her sister.

Anna teaches us about trying to communicate, about showing unconditional love. “Please don’t shut me out again,” she begs Elsa. And even though her sister has (accidentally) hurt her, Anna consistently tries to bridge the gap. 

Anna’s arc shows us the tough truth that relationships, even close ones, can decay. The close sisterly bond has all but faded between them. But Anna also shows us that no matter the difficulty. At the final scene, when the tune of “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” plays, it signifies that Elsa and Anna have finally repaired their relationship, that they finally can be family again.

So, we learn from Anna to give our love unconditionally. Because forgiveness, trust, love, and most importantly the desire to make a connection all help us repair our broken relationships.

[positivetransmessages]

Beauty Brands Want to Sell Queer Expression, But It Shouldn’t Be for Sale

Writer Riley R.L. on the risks that come with cosmetics brands capitalizing on queer narratives.

Riley R.L

In this op-ed, nonbinary writer Riley R.L. shares the impact of makeup on their identity, and the risks that come with cosmetic brands capitalizing on queer narratives.

October 21, 2019

“They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Lady Gaga declares in the launch video for her new makeup line. “But at Haus Laboratories, we say beauty’s how you see yourself.” The video features Gaga surrounded by a racially diverse, gender nonconforming group of models showing off glittery eye makeup and bold lip colors. Its message is about freedom, specifically the freedom to express your identity however you want to. “We want you to love yourself,” Gaga concludes, and she’s got just the thing to help us do it: For $49, you can get a trio of lip products in a variety of color combos, which the brand’s website calls “tools of self-expression and reinvention.”

The Haus Laboratories launch is just one of many examples of how the cosmetics industry has been using identity narratives to market their ads with LGBTQ consumers in mind. Through pride campaigns and inclusive marketing, brands like Morphe, Milk Makeup, and M.A.C are trying to push the cultural conversation around makeup forward by bringing queer, trans, and gender nonconforming faces to the forefront, apparently as a way to help normalize the varying expressions of our community.

This mirrors a larger shift in the beauty space. LGBTQ creators like Gigi Gorgeous, Jeffree Star, and Nikita Dragun have gained huge audiences online and created successful product collaborations, while major beauty publications like Elle, Cosmopolitan, and Allure have covered the rise of queer beauty influencers and gender-neutral cosmetics brands. It’s clear that the world of cosmetics is trying to move away from the conventional standards it was previously associated with to promote an aesthetic of freedom, however ambiguously defined that may be.

For many LGBTQIA people, makeup can play a valuable, if not complicated, role in exploring gender, something that rings true in my own story. The first time I wore eye shadow out of the house, I still largely identified with the gender I had been assigned at birth; I spent most of that night worrying about what wearing makeup while presenting as male might open me up to. I feared ridicule, harassment, even violence — things that, fortunately, had not been an average part of my day-to-day life. Wearing makeup that first time was the most aware I’d ever been of the grip that gendered expectations had on the way I lived, and that realization made me feel weak and unfulfilled; all my life, I could suddenly see, I’d been under the control of beliefs about gender that I didn’t agree with, and that I had internalized without ever choosing to.

Thankfully, nothing out of the ordinary happened that night. As a kind of resistance to those feelings of weakness, I made an effort to start wearing makeup more often, and became increasingly comfortable with choosing to present and express myself in a way that was more unconventional. Ultimately, makeup was one of many things that helped me come to terms with the fact that I felt more at home outside of traditional gender roles than I did within them, and that my identity fit better under the umbrella of nonbinary than it did under male.

For me, that revelation came with a reduced emphasis on how I presented. Nowadays, I rarely wear much makeup (neither do most of my trans and nonbinary friends). But as queer identity seems to become more and more intertwined with the cosmetics industry, I find myself shying away from sharing the role that wearing makeup—a purely aesthetic part of a deeply internal process—played in that time of self-discovery. When I watch someone sell makeup under the auspices of queer self-love, regardless of how well intentioned they might be, I can’t help but feel as if a story like mine is being packaged and sold to young queer people desperate to find confidence in their own identity.

“Sometimes beauty doesn’t come naturally from within,” Gaga muses on the Haus Laboratories website. “But I’m so grateful that makeup inspired a bravery in me I didn’t know I had.” The narrative is clearer than ever: If conventional aesthetic “beauty” is no longer a marketing team’s focus, then something like “bravery” must be; rather than encouraging consumers to fit in, it’s now about using makeup to help reveal “who you are.” These brands are leveraging LGBTQIA narratives to maintain relevance in a competitive market, thanks to the very real and very complicated relationship that trans, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming people like me have with cosmetics.

An example like Sephora’s “Identify As We” campaign, full of ethereal imagery and moving ideas about freedom and identity, is certainly a progressive alternative to the kinds of advertising I was exposed to growing up. It’s easy to recall the history of hypermasculine marketing for products like Axe, whose goal was to play on conventional gender roles to make sales. Today, some brands would like us to believe that they can do better, and that by focusing on the expansive understanding of gender the LGBTQ community provides, companies can push progress forward rather than reinforce tired stereotypes.

Recently, Jonathan Van Ness, one of Queer Eye’s fab five, revealed that he’s nonbinary to Out. “[Gender is] this social construct that I don’t really feel like I fit into the way I used to,” Van Ness shared. Couched in this personal revelation was Van Ness’s sponsorship with nail polish brand Essie, something he hopes will help inspire young people: “I always used to think, Oh, I’m like a gay man, but I think any way I can let little boys and little girls know that they can express themselves, and they can, like, be... making iconic partnerships with brands like Essie no matter how they present is really important and exciting.”

Van Ness and Essie, like many of the brands mentioned, seem to operate under the assumption that visibility alone can bring much needed change in how our culture regards gender nonconformance. And maybe they’re right; but as a nonbinary person, I can’t help but question: Would my self-perception really have been different had I seen someone like Van Ness wearing nail polish on a billboard while growing up? Would I have come to understand my identity sooner had I seen a gender nonconforming person on a cosmetics display?

Many queer people grow up with a longing to be seen and validated by popular culture in the way our straight and cisgender peers are. When we come to adulthood, I worry that lingering desire may leave us with an inability to protect younger generations from the potential risks that putting value in “visibility” can conceal. If we place our trust in advertising to advance our cause rather than sharing our stories on our own terms, we’re passing them over to those whose primary goal is to profit from them. These sanitized, corporate narratives run the risk of leading young queer people to believe that embodying their identity is as simple as buying the right lipstick or wearing the right nail polish, instead of expressing themselves in whatever way feels true to them.

By creating a narrative of self-actualization based on a product, it’s easy to erase the pain that can come too. For many queer and trans people, embodying your gender is not always fun, freeing, and transformative; it can also make you a target of discrimination and violence. Every time I choose to walk out the door with makeup on, I’m choosing to do so in spite of the world I’m walking into. At its best makeup was often a grounding ritual that helped me come to terms with my own experience of gender. At its worst the reactions it caused — condescending compliments, strange looks, yells of “faggot” from passing cars — could make it feel like a way of inscribing the dissonance between my body and identity on my skin. Those experiences, like those endured by many in my community, are the ones you aren’t so likely to hear about in a beauty ad or the next big pride campaign, because they don’t fit the right narrative. We can’t ignore that these brands are more invested in their own survival than they are in ours, and we owe it to ourselves — and to those who’ll come after us — to be careful with how we allow others to use our stories.

- - -

Source: https://www.teenvogue.com/story/beauty-brands-queer-expression-makeup

[gg-astrology]

i hope it’s not too late to ask but what will 2019 look like for wjsn?? they debuted on february 25, 2016 @ 12pm kst

Hey there!! 💕 It’s definitely not too late, thank you for dropping by and asking for the girls!! 💕💕💕 And also for the date/time aaaah 💕💕 It helps alot!!💕💕

[Natal and Solar Return for WJSN (2019/2020)]

(btw their song: save me save you has been on my favourite list the part where they just?? strut up to the front?? amazing!💕)

So here’s the natal:

Let’s look at them natally first?

A pisces sun group with alot of expectations/desire for self-expression, compassionate, healing and driven to ‘give’ as much to others as they gain by pulling that Pisces quality outwards (10th house). 

The majority of the placements centered around the MC -- construction of the image in a good way (professional and serious/finds joy in what they do)  conducts themselves quite well, although in certain regards they can be stand-offish or contrarian sometimes too (may talk about things that is too serious for gag humour style sometimes) 

Their affection is in the public (fans/public reception) as well as certain pains, either from them feeling hurt themselves or by the public denouncing their self-expression (or the fans being hurt)-- empathetic group that do desire to be love and adored for who they are, but can sometimes look towards the rose-tint glasses and gets hurt/not understand where others are coming from. 

Especially in regards to colleagues, visions, what they do. On a day to day basis they are focused/driven (Scorpio Mars in 6th) but may also find frustration in how that didn’t come across when they show in the public (Ceres/Neptune/Sun in 10th) 

In other cases it’s authority figures, lack of freedom (Sagittarius Saturn in 6th) because it’s a square-- they can sometimes focus alot on the public in order to ‘not see/avoid’ challenges in regards to imposing authorities or maybe even dating regulations (Saturn conjunct DC) themselves as well (steer away from them hopefully)  

Authority figures (older people) may not see part of their affection/worth/negligence on that side (Ceres)-- but fortune falls on them when they (unexpectedly/Pluto) show others a side that they might’ve been unsure about, talking about deeper topics, or actually have productive Capricorn-like relationship with others.  May actually be hidden or in secret, but will come to light because of Pluto/Uranus aspect (having to choose) 

Besides that, there’s also Aquarius Mercury/Venus in 9th that does talk about travelling, studying different topics (diversify), and finding individuality that is makes them ‘stand out’ from others. Particularly when it comes to things that can be a ‘flip the switch’ moment-- a ‘break out’ in particular. 

They like constructing things in a way that ‘fits’ them rather than trying to be flashy/showing it off. It has to blend into their self-expression, the Aquarius aspects are to Saturn/DC so perhaps showing a different side of themselves, of vulnerabilities/reflections or a certain kind of ‘fuck em’ anthem (Aquarius/Sagittarius) 

Fortune and progress enhances on them when they take notice of those perhaps younger than in-- around the age where you still live with family (Jupiter/NN in 4th)  particularly for the details of how hard they’ve worked, their integrity, their strength in the other things.

Consider how they’re a group of Pisces on the 10th (appealing to men) but if they can hit that good Capricorn Pars Fortunae/Pluto in 8th (adapt and work on this earthy energy) they may actually start to have more fortune working out in regards to their skill-set and technique, craftmanship instead of just pure self-expression. This is how they can distinct themselves-- and also humbling down into showing traditional roots or stems that ties into their ancestry.

Libra Moon in 5th does talk about love for performing, a need to reflect and talk about different types of relationships. It’s carried through in Aquarius Venus in 9th -- taking it to a higher level/wanting to perform at a larger scale. Here it can also make them a little wishy washy about their bottom line-- not wanting to go ‘too much/hard’ onto something even though that ‘certainty’ is where fortune falls (Capricorn is usually square to Libra) so learning how to gravitate towards that energy in order to work with the Capricorn trine Virgo can be helpful.

Yeah... ok! In terms of personality, their Ascendant is in Gemini -- open, chatty, talkative, able to communicate in a way that is funny and good for variety. On their DSC lies Sagittarius -- a little bit more chaotic, pro-active, can be blunt individuals. If they learn/gain knowledge they can do well. 

On the IC is Leo -- talking about training, showmanship, preparations. Hard-work but also proud, strong and confident. Their MC is in Aquarius-- observing and calculative, ‘what are we going to do in order to stand out?’ realistic but also progressive. Driving force, but also older than how Leo were. More experienced and also individualistic. 

Duplicated Capricorn/Cancer in the 8/9th and 2nd/3rd house shows stability, balance, kinda guarded (parenthood) need for that kind of ‘objective’ manner. 

Intercepted Aries in 11th and Libra in 5th talks about possible areas of income (to do with vocation) being unjust/unequal (Libra/Aries) inability to take the reign/wheel in regards to the public (hopes/dreams as well -- Pisces ruling the house instead of Aries) and perhaps a certain injustice in regards to their own wants/needs with the 5th house (Virgo ruling that house- obsessive, nit-picky, surveillance in certain contexts) 

And then we’ll look at the year 2019 for them in their solar return!

SO in this solar return, their ASC is at 0′ Aquarius which bodes well for self-constructing, evaluating what they want to move forward with (in terms of more seriousness) and aligning that with their self image

Remember that their natal asc is in Gemini-- this Aquarius sr is a higher frequency of that, adapted and used in a way that perhaps is more aligned to ‘what’ they originally aimed to do but with a keen focus on it now.

Sun in 1st house (Pisces) focusing on the self, self-confidence, self-alignment, self progression. Here they are embodying the self and the majority of the planet lies on the other side of the chart, focusing more on self-discovery and journey. That energy becoming more focused into healing, collecting and perhaps internally/self-focused as well.

Mercury is now in Pisces in 2nd -- can talk about ‘what’ they have to show-- their skillsets, what they’ve learnt, how they can use/adapt that. 

Can sometimes have to ‘watch’ that they don’t come across as harsh or self-centered/selfish due to their unexpected nature (misunderstanding/Pisces detriment in Mercury) because it’s also squaring Jupiter in 11th (particularly international fans who may find something to hold against them) 

Frustration with possible income, lack of freedom/restriction, feeling like they are ‘less’ because of Aries Chiron 0′ in 2nd house. The 2nd house also talks about self-worth, so it’s possible to align novelty/certain goods and how you obtain them with evaluating how ‘successful’ they are at this stage.

Mars in 3rd -- Taurus Mars, communicating, siblings, neighbours, being more focused on what they do (less dreaming more doing) -- more simplistic approach, step by step. Pars Fortunae is also conjunct to the IC (eeehh the degrees are a little wide though) the more they hone in on showing this ‘taurusean’ image (hard-driving, resilience, nurturing, conservative) the more family-friendly and approved they may be (with certain demographics)

This also works with Sagittarius Jupiter in 11-- as it’s aspecting Aries Uranus in 3rd -- perhaps certain things are unexpected, but the more that they can ‘show’ and communicate efficiently (hmmmm maybe not with that Pisces mercury aspect right now) but if they stay being grounded and humbled-- it may turn out better for them.

Right, Scorpio Moon in 9th aspecting MC -- and then opposition to Mars in 3rd --  if any cultural appropriation happens, or anything that can-- uhh, be insensitive towards certain public groups (religious, foreign, conservatives) they may have better luck guarding/shielding themselves or keeping composed. Because talking about it or lack of a deeper understanding right now-- in this period of reconstructing their self-image can be damaging to them. 

Pisces Mercury aspects to Jupiter doesn’t bode well, that Neptune aspect to Jupiter can also severely hinder their income/image that they’ve built up. Their Venus is squaring their Mars and Uranus in the 3rd house-- putting foot in the mouth syndrome may be common. Whilst their Moon is opposition to the 3rd-- which can cause misunderstanding or misrepresentation of what they were trying to do because of certain alignment to things.

Anyways... that’s the idea of challenges but there’s also other things to consider such as the talent triangle between Scorpio Moon, Capricorn Venus/Pluto and Pisces Uranus/Mercury. The idea here is to stabilize and engage in self-reflection in a way that’s good for them. Capricorn at the apex of this triangle (Venus/Pluto) talks about transformation and being ‘sure’ of something. The image now is more focused on career-building (reputation building) and stamping their place in the society from the internal out (12th) 

Note: that the harsh aspects may or may not be prevalent depending on how you handle issues. Developing and learning how to do so is a part of why the chart is used as guidelines into becoming more self-aware, and thus actively dealing with internal/external problems that may arise by knowing our strengths and weaknesses so we can combat it ourselves.

Anyways, hope this is good!! 💕💕💕 Thanks for asking! 💕💕

[goatsarepurplesometimes]

I haven’t learnt many things that I truely believe are wise enough to be valid to share with other people, but there’s one that I come back to quite frequently that seems to make my world work.

Today I’ve been feeling like I’m the off person in the group, you know the feeling, I’m sure we all do, where in interactions with friends or family or work, that you are the one that doesn’t really matter if you are there or not.

Not that you are worthless, just that your presence doesn’t really bring anything of value to the table, and it’s like you keep reaching out to do shit to try and resolve, but you might as well be screaming to the void or writing Facebook status’s that no one will read.

So why did I share that?

Especially when I do have the common thought that this is the equivalent of screaming to the void?

Well, it’s about just being fucking REAL with people in my opinion. Which I’m going to refer to as “fuckingreal.tm” from here on in this long post. I’m pretty sure everyone experiences this shit, I’m yet to be proven otherwise, because whenever I talk about this shit, people get it. At least some do.

Some are frankly horrified at the idea of having thoughts that are harmful and self destructive, but they are there for me.

But that’s part of it isn’t it?

Friendships, work relationships, relationships in general, at the end of the day we are all looking for people who understand the cut of our jib, empathise with us, and have similar thoughts and feelings.

So just be “fuckingreal.tm”. It’s definitely difficult at first to say in the middle of a uni meeting for a group project “hey, fuck, sorry I was 10 minutes late today, I was having a decent cry in the shower to attempt to stave off this constant existential dread I’ve been feeling at the moment, it tends to come frequently at the moment”, but once you do, people respond in one of two ways.

Either they go “wow holy shit, that’s dark as fuck, this guy is weird”, or they understand it, get where you are coming from, have maybe felt it themselves, and empathise.

The key to all worthwhile relationships I’ve learnt is to just be “fuckingreal.tm”. “I felt depressed as fuck last week, my bad, sorry for being absent, the deal is that sometimes my depression gets bad enough that I can’t control it and become emotionally distant.”

See that shit I wrote?

That’s radical honesty, making sure I lay every card on the damn table so everyone can see them and we can work with what everyone’s been dealt.

Because here’s the thing, I learnt this from a comedy cartoon in relation to dating years ago, and I realised it works just as much on any relationship. Friends, colleagues, whatever, if you can’t be fuckingreal.tm with the person you can’t reach a joint understanding of the game and win it together.

That’s what I consider being “fucking real” in my own words is about. It’s a lot easier for everyone to play a good game of poker when the cards are all face up on the table, and most importantly, it’s not even a game of poker.

It’s not a zero sum game where a winner necessitates a loser, it’s a game where being real gives people a true picture of you rather than assumptions.

And that goes for everything. Good or bad.

Every damn thought you have.

Being proud of my intelligence. Worrying about that slipping into ego, and occasionally it doing so. Being death gripped by the balls by depression for the last 10 years or so. My shame at being a smoker, the disgust I feel at it, the knowledge of being a flawed human who is often misanthropic, the fact I deal with ptsd and nightmares nearly daily and some days I’m scared of sleeping, dying from a heart attack due to a nightmare, or losing my grip on sanity and how hard it was to crawl out of the worst of shit.

My joy at rainstorms, a love of chaos controlled or not, an inability to enjoy my day without interaction with a four legged animal, my love of sweet foods and chasing my dads style of apple pie in the kitchen for years and getting close, an intractable obsession with intricacy and complex things, the need to build technical things and electronics, my want to make things that I love so that others can love those things too, knowing that I used to read a book a day but haven’t read a book in at least the past 5 years but I can recite some from memory, my love of tabletop games and strategy, my tendency to usually reach good answers in problem solving, being kind to possums to the point I can hand feed them and the fact that they are my favourite animal.

Every damn detail. Nothing locked up.

Good, bad, disgusting, ugly… whatever it is that makes you feel something, anything, as long as there’s a feeling there. If someone asks “how you doing” you be “fuckingreal.tm”.

The good ones are easy to be “fuckingreal.tm” about. They are things we post up all the time to make ourselves feel good and seem like an awesome human, but it won’t, and it doesn’t. What does make us feel good and become awesome is being understood, and that means ripping all your dirty, unclean, undesirable bullshit and throwing it on the table in front of you along with the good shit and saying “This is who I am. All of it. This is who I am, and I’ll be real about that.”

I think when people understand that shit, that’s when you’ve done something spectacular. Getting around those desires and impulses to hide your shit is definitely hard, but do you want people to like ‘you’ or ‘a representation of you that you have carefully curated to clean off the rough edges’?

I know which one I personally give a shit about, and the one that I actually want others to give a shit about. And hey, it’s not the sanitised one.

There’s definitely a certain subset of the population that this polarises rapidly against you, that get scared when you talk “fuckingreal.tm” about it. I’ve blown up relationships, friendships, ect from being real. I’ve lost a job for admitting mental health issues.

But you want to know the real kicker?

You gotta cull the weak. Weak relationships, weak friends, shit jobs… whatever it is, being “fuckingreal.tm” culls them out pretty quick.

The shit that makes you tick and makes you feel stuff, that’s the stuff that people need to come to terms with, and either tolerate or love.

None of the other bullshit that we put up in facades of magic mirrors, but the shit we can’t change, the shit we are working on, the shit we love about ourselves.

This isn’t a new thought from me. This is something that has been expressed by many people who are much smarter than I, in as many different ways.

But I call it “fuckingreal.tm” because it’s something that makes me tick, and I should own that, personalise it, and tell you why I do it.

And fuck it, why can’t you do it too? Is social anxiety and fear of being disliked part of your issue with being “fuckingreal.tm”?

Good! Let’s be “fuckingreal.tm” about that then!

Tell me you think I’m a loser? Fine! At least you are being “fuckingreal.tm” with me.

I got shit bottled up in my head here today, and I’m not too proud to admit it got to me. The little needles that sometimes poke around in my head were going a bit nuts. I have an incurable need to be understood by other humans as does everyone of you.

So just drop the act and be fuckingreal.tm about it.

Feel the freedom of saying what you mean, what you intend to do, or what you think.

The fear of judgment goes with time, and to be really fuckingreal.tm for a moment, being fuckingreal.tm is one of the only things that keeps me from not wanting to deal with shit anymore at times. If you’ve read this far, maybe it means something to you too.

And I mean it when I say this shit isn’t for just romantic interests. It’s for you in general, and for your outlook on life, and accepting and evolving who you are.

It’s made me a better person at least.

[fading-iridescence]

I feel that no one really changes. They just get better at hiding their vices and flaws

I agree but I also disagree.

I believe that people absolutely can change, but a lot of us are comfortable where we are and aren't entirely motivated to challenge our issues because it's easier to say "that's not my problem". Maybe we didn't even notice them to begin with; someone brought it to our attention and we may have taken it as a personal attack, rather than helpful criticism. We as humans are often self-centered and therefore we don't see our flaws as "issues" because they don't always directly affect our lives as ourselves and I think that's where a lot of relationships fail; it's easier to deny emotional challenges or even just shift the blame onto our partner or friends because we don't typically like to be told, let alone admit when we are wrong. We don't like feeling vulnerable, especially when our egos are involved.

There are, however, some of us who are at least conscious of our weaknesses and willing to take the initiative to strengthen ourselves. It is often difficult to stay disciplined because those kind of changes are subtle to our own eyes and the effort doesn't feel "worth it" as a result. But others with the same, positive mindset, can absolutely see the improvements or at least the effort being put forth to change. Perhaps the "inability to change" actually lays within you; choosing to only see the faults in other people because you're projecting your own feelings instead of taking accountability for them. Perhaps we aren't "hiding" our vices as much as we are trying to leave them behind; we're actually trying to replace our old habits with new improvements and you're actually just focusing on the imperfections instead because you are unable to welcome change in to your own life.

Everyone has negative and sometimes even toxic traits, the biggest one being unable to swallow our own ego and challenge our own mindset. Admitting defeat or exposing our vulnerability is, in my opinion, one of the hardest things to actually do. I struggle a lot with my own pride but I am learning to be okay with change. It is scary and difficult but we can't welcome change where comfort lives and I think more people need to acknowledge that.

[straane]

yuna & flaws.

this is a subject I briefly kinda hinted at in my tuna post & found myself wanting to properly tackle. I've occasionally seen criticism of Yuna's character dismissing her as "the perfect woman" with no manifest flaws or the sorta faux "acing that job interview" type of flaws such as working too hard, being too selfless, being too kind etc. that are basically strengths masquerading as weaknesses and only really add to her inhuman excellence. and literally there's this one NPC chillin at the Moonflow that gives this highly refined character analysis: "Yuna embodies perfection". well, let's break this thing down, shall we?

and before I start, let it be known that I personally genuinely adore flawed characters, doesn't matter what type of flaws; it's something that to me, recommends a character and gets me invested in their story & struggles so yeah basically the bigger the human disaster and the more varied their range of f**kup the greater my fondness of them – and at the same time I'm a big fan of virtuous, noble-minded, goody-good sorta heroes so it's not really an anti-hero/anti-villain thing either. LOVE the latter lot as well but it's not like they own flaws if you know what I mean

someone'll ask me why i like x and i'm like off the top of my head they're just so dumb and completely obnoxious and  mediocre at everything i love it

so what I'm saying is me talking yuna & flaws is actually a great compliment to her & an expression of my abundant love & adoration

so let's address her

1. workaholic tendencies/excessive selflessness/excessive kindness. so are these real defects or sneaky supplemental strengths or the sly ploys of employee hopefuls? well I might as well fully embrace that metaphor and assert that throughout the pilgrimage, Yuna is actually doing a sort of prolonged large-scale job interview. I mean, she already got the job – business card says 'fully-fledged summoner' – yay – but what she's really shooting for is 'Spira's ray of light', an all-around national hero figure and constant 24/7 source of inspiration, comfort & consolation (not to mention hands-on aid) symbol of hope & salvation etc etc. AND eventual concrete salvation lol. basically, yes, she is aiming for an inhuman standard. there's a lot of internal & external pressure on her, she's constantly hyper-aware of her very demanding role as a summoner and to some extent putting on a performance – not really putting on an act (because damn right this girl is all kinds of compassionate and altruistic and noble and loving) but suppressing her individual rather more free-spirited & fun nature (that we see flashes of in FFX and an entire character arc built around in FFX-2)

perhaps you've met someone like this – some of them get quite good at keeping up the facade of perfection and self-sufficiency. Yuna at least is smart enough to show some transparency every now and then (like when she urges Shelinda not to put herself down, noting she's a beginner too). if she didn't, I don't think we'd like her as much. BUT even when she does, you can tell she's still quite conscious and cautious of her word choices and appearance and behavior and I actually think Hedy Burress's slow and pensive delivery is perfect here and beautifully underlines this aspect of her character. 

2. excessive self-reliance/overconfidence/internal arrogance. her own words, "oh no, I was... overconfident." (btw, I really love it when characters show self-awareness of their faults, subverts a lot of ‘cool’ character tropes) so basically, tho Yuna would have us believe otherwise – I think the whole summoner thing has gotten to her head a tad. not externally – she looks, sounds, feels, smells and tastes all kinds of humble and modest, especially next to the likes of Dona – but is it all just a part of her 'daughter of Braska and future savior and relentless champion of goodness and hope' veneer? consider her actions, and you'll see she often overestimates her own abilities. yuna: "stand back! I'll summon!" seymour: "gurl pls" she outright refuses to share absolutely world-shatteringly important and critical information about Seymour with her guardians; instead lies to their faces, and comes up with a thoughtless plan to confront him herself (and then do what? ‘stop’ him? she fails to send him several times even in the presence of her guardians and when she goes to face him at Macalania Temple he ain't even dead yet lol) and basically starts a domino chain of events that eventually puts them all in extreme danger. now, one might wonder, a) does she truly think so little of her guardians – people mostly older and more experienced than her; whose literal full-time job it is to keep her safe from any and all danger – and their ability to handle unexpected twists and turns (AURON??? LULU??? come ON Yunie) that she would not trust them with this info and thought they'd only get in the way and genuinely thinks her oh-so-thorough-A+++ plans superior to anything they might have to contribute? unlikely. even Auron makes this observation. b) was she only graciously trying to protect said literal professional protectors? that's her own (initial) interpretation of the events, I'm sure. c) is there maybe an element of arrogance/pursuit of heroism/overestimation of own capability involved? glory-seeking might be a bit of a stretch, but seeing as in Spira in general there's this collective image of summoners as heroes and saviors and near superhuman beings... is she starting to, maybe just a little, believe the hype? I'm sorry but it makes me laugh everytime when I think of Yuna telling herself that 'sure i'll just go have a little chat with alleged murderer and maybe marry him if I have to, what could go wrong?? sure I have access to these six trusted friends and capable guardians all ready to jump off a cliff if I asked but this is really no biggie' it’s like that part in Frozen where Kristoff roasts Anna like “that’s your plan? talking to your sister??” except it’s much worse

(also my headcanon is that if that nosy temple attendant hadn't unearthed Jyscal’s sphere, Tidus would've, lol dude knows no shame or boundaries.)  

3. insecurity/craving positive feedback. ok, I'm cheating, these aren't flaws, and we all experience them. but I do think they are oft-overlooked aspects of her character and I also want to bring them up to emphasize that they can and very often do co-exist with overconfidence/extreme self-reliance (pushing us to prove ourselves etc.) 30 seconds into her first ever interaction with Tidus, she has an extremely strong positive response to his throwaway markedly non-expert compliment on her first aeon, and she immediately proceeds to ask this, again, completely clueless outsider whether he thinks she can become High Summoner (lmao that part just kills me he just nods like he just learned the word earlier that day and she's like -deep breath- 'this means so much to me') idk, that scene just always gave me the vibe that she kinda really needed to hear those words and I won't go as far as to say she craves attention/adoration cuz again, clearly she has very altruistic motives behind her chosen profession but that bit is not the only time she shows a sense of insecurity/desire for validation/acknowledgement. her first words after her first sending, to the first person she sees? "hope I did okay"(altho she's not making it all about her given that she is crying too and thus actually breaking her summoner 'pillar of strength' code)

her insecurity also leads to her mimicking others at times, like in the Eternal Calm prologue you get the sense that she feels that the “same as always” Yuna isn’t good enough (Rikku does sorta take the wrong tone there) and this results in her imitating her cousin with all that “oh poopie” silliness and at times kinda trying too hard to act more edgy/assertive (at least that’s my interpretation of her X-2 characterization ALTHO it also leads to very positive and much-needed character development) 

4. limited empathy/wanting things her way/and yes, sometimes making it all about her, there i said it. so yeah, if we take empathetic to mean nice and friendly, then yes, Yuna is obviously empathetic. but if we go with the actual definition as in "empathy = the ability to put yourself in another person's position / understand their feelings/experiences" I think she wayyyy struggles. heck, I think Lulu is the more empathetic of the two. let me explain. take any time Yuna & Tidus talk about Jecht. they more or less immediately come to the conclusion that they are in fact referring to the same person (at least she certainly does), yet Yuna never quite appreciates Tidus's perception of/history with Jecht, his own father. she is quick to protest his bashing with her own memory of a "kind and gentle man" (which is no less true/valid) and doesn't really seem to know how to handle the subject in conversation when his experiences so wildly clash with her own. even when she accurately perceives that he's hurting in Luca, she doesn't even try to inquire what's wrong or ask if there's anything she can do, but instead immediately relates his (unspecified and in actuality very specific and severe sort of) pain to her own experiences as a summoner and starts pushing onto him her own somewhat unhealthy if surprisingly fun coping techniques (thank you Yuna, for single-handedly bringing about the Greatest Scene ™ in FF history which I unironically adore). when she pep talks Shelinda (a great display of her kindness and thoughtfulness, as well as inability to understand other people's differing experiences and their nuances), again, she never asks her to elaborate on her situation but instead draws parallels to her own situation as a fledgling summoner. ('people are counting on me. oh and i'm sure they're counting on you too') neither does she ever ask Tidus what he wants to do in Spira, she asks him to be her guardian. even after her wish is granted (to be fair, it's what he found himself wanting as well) she checks with him whether he'll follow her all the way to Zanarkand, and when Tidus gives a very melancholy reply pointing out his own somewhat depressing reasons for the journey ('yea gotta see if my hometown's still there, it's probably not tho'), she makes this happy little noise. like... that's her takeaway. she clearly has a vision of how she wants things to play out and expects people to accommodate, whether she wants them there or not. ('I want him nearby' vs. 'I have to do this crazy stupid thing and I have to do it alone') contrast this with Lulu, who quite unlike Yuna, doesn't immediately become enamored with Tidus and his Zanarkand and his relation to a person she cherishes; but nevertheless starts helping him out immediately by educating him on Spiran customs/history (if that's not empathy/placing self in another person's position, idk what is) 

5. naivete/hesitation to question established truths I think I addressed this one in my MBTI post and my eyes are getting tired. she also eventually manages to completely flip this one around and make it into one of her strengths without losing a sense of idealism and optimism, what a heroine 

so anyway

-exits minefield- 

-immediately returns- basically feel free to disagree and/or point out any factual errors/aspects of her character that I missed, whether positive or negative. basically this is my personal interpretation of the character and as I said, pretty much my love letter to her

OR you could add to these (join the Yuna roast we have cookies bwahahaa)

[witsyo]

Flower Crown 3

Blue patted her horse’s neck, looking around guiltily before slipping him a slice of apple. He lipped at her hand, seeming very pleased with the treat as she grinned. His name was Bones, and it was not an apt description. All of the horses in this country were hardy and beautiful, very much at odds with the blocks of muscle she had grown up with, but Bones reminded her a lot of a childhood horse she’d had by the same name. 

Pulling her quiver from her back, she slipped it into the saddle’s straps, tightening them quickly. She reached back for her bow, jumped about a foot as someone seized her wrist. Her sleeve was yanked down, exposing the newly tattooed symbol on her wrist, the one that matched the pattern of the ribbon still tied to Razz’s bed, with blue ink that carried a universal meaning through this country. They had gotten them done this morning, since there would be very little opportunity in the coming weeks. 

“See?!” Timothy cried, brandishing her tattoo towards Halle. “Now pay up!” 

Halle scoffed, taking her arm to inspect it for herself. “I think you’re both trying to worm my money from my hands. There is no proof!” 

“Is this about Razz?” Blue asked, but they just kept arguing over the top of her. 

Timothy waved a finger in Halle’s face. “There is proof enough! She wouldn’t get a binding tattoo for the sake of twenty gold!”

“You bet her twenty gold?!” Blue exclaimed in disbelief, but Timothy waved her off. 

“It’s forty, but twenty would be half.” 

“Forty! I swear, the two of you will have nothing left in your pockets if you don’t stop competing!” She shook her head, yanking back her arm. 

“Ah, but you’ll keep us in furs, with your captain’s pay,” Timothy grinned, waggling his brows and receiving a whack on the arm from Halle. 

Blue scoffed. “I have my own pay, Timothy, and I certainly won’t be sharing it with the likes of you!” 

Before he could come up with a good retort, Halle spoke up, physically shifting him to one side in order to look at Blue. “You can’t possibly be married to him, Blue, you don’t even love him!” Blue winced, remembering a conversation of a few weeks past where she had confirmed that very thing. She had been trying to convince herself, disgusted with her own weakness in falling for the man who had given her everything. 

“Ah, you’d best just pay him, Halle. It’s true.” 

Halle scoffed, looking at her in disbelief for a long moment. Apparently finding no deceit in her expression, she yanked her coinpurse from her belt, beginning to fling individual coins at Timothy. “Why did you lie?”

“I wasn’t lying, Halle.” She hated the hurt in the other’s eyes. Halle was her closest friend, outside of Razz. They had shared a home since the other had come to king’s town, up until, well… last night, she supposed. Neither of them were free with information about their pasts, but they trusted each other. She’d never meant to betray that. Her voice went quieter, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I just… didn’t know it myself, then. You know how it is, Halle, giving yourself over to a man. Trusting him, and trusting yourself to know what you’re actually willing to give up.” 

“No, actually, I don't. I never will, and that was three weeks ago, Blue. In three weeks, you’ve made that decision?”

“In two. That’s all it takes sometimes. Especially when I’ve known him for so long.” 

Halle threw the rest of the money at Timothy in a handful, leaning against Bones and looking at Blue in concern. “Did he explain that in Ljosvollr, marriage is--”

“Binding. I know.” Blue smiled to herself, brushing a clump of dust off Bones’s flank. When Razz had come to her, she’d been terrified. His profession of love had scared her, and she’d pushed him away, refused to even look at him, pretending the hurt on his face didn’t cause her pain. 

She’d been afraid that he thought she owed him something, even after all these years. Angry that that had to be the reason her heart would pound as he approached, her breath coming short and her eyes drawn to his. She didn’t want to fall in love with her rescuer. 

It’d been only a few weeks before she realized that wasn’t the reason at all. Blue had fallen in love with the man himself, so deeply and truly it was taking over her soul. She looked back, met Halle’s gaze and softly smiled. “I’m happy to be bound to him.” 

“He is a good man,” Timothy murmured, tucking the last of the coins into his pockets. 

“The best,” Halle said. “But… still, could you have not waited? You’ve never been the sort.”

“We haven’t been lovers for long, but he’s been my friend even longer than I’ve known the two of you! I don’t need to wait to find out how he’ll treat me, or how he’d raise our children, or anything about him when I already know everything important! He makes me so happy, Halle, absolutely fills my life with joy. Would you delay, if you could feel this love burning through you like the gods themselves are--” She cut herself off as their brows raised, realizing her voice was swelling with passion. Dropping her arms with a huff, she got her tone under control. “He’s kind and wonderful, and fear stopped me from realizing I loved him for far too long already. Why would I wait when I already know?”

“Are you pregnant?” Halle asked, and it was Timothy’s turn to smack her. 

“No!” Blue protested, folding her arms with a huff. “If I was pregnant, you think I would be traveling by horse?” 

“Maybe if you don’t want him to know yet?” 

“I’m not pregnant! We hadn’t even--” She cut herself off, scoffed at their expressions. “That is none of your business. The captain and I will worry about it ourselves , if and when we decide to have children.” 

“What? You hadn’t slept together?” Halle scoffed. “Blue, you’re not exactly a beacon of purity, you’re telling me you waited until your wedding night?” 

Not sure how to respond, she just stared at the two of them for a long moment until Timothy suddenly gasped, leaning in conspiratorially. “You can’t possibly be saying that the captain --”

“Lieutenant,” said a voice from behind them, making all three of them jump and spin around to face the man. He was one of Halle’s, holding the reins of her horse and looking between the three of them curiously. Halle thanked him quickly, waiting for him to leave before double-checking the ties on the saddle. 

Blue swung onto Bones as Halle mounted her own horse, grinning down at Timothy. “What, messenger, no steed?”

“My steed is fine, excuse me for not having my men at my beck and call. What, Halle, you rise in the ranks and forget how to put on a saddle?” He was the son of her mother’s cousin, which was probably the only thing saving him from receiving a beating from her on a daily basis. Blue was nearing her six-month mark of lieutenancy, but Halle had recently been promoted to the rank, her rise faster than even Razz had achieved when he had joined the royal guard. She may have been invited into the company on Timothy’s recommendation, but she was fast proving her capabilities.

“How about you mount up so I can show you why I save my energy!” Halle shot back, attempting to kick him from her saddle. Timothy danced out of the way, laughing, then waved them off. 

“Well, should we report in?” Blue asked, and Halle laughed, settling more comfortably and following as Blue led them to the group of soldiers gathering at the base of king’s hill. 

Razz had command over about a hundred soldiers, with four lieutenants over five seconds, and Timothy’s small company of messengers. Blue could see him, off his horse and helping one of the men fix his saddle. He laughed at something the man said, and she smiled softly to herself, ignoring Halle’s raised brow. Razz looked up as they approached, smiling at them and nodding to accept their salutes as the man he’d been helping walked away. 

“My twenty-five are outfitted and prepared,” Blue said, her horse shifting in place. She rubbed the side of its neck, turning to Halle. 

“I report twenty-four,” she said wryly. “The short notice found Karlen in a tavern, and he’s rotting in a cell. I figured he could wait until our return for me to find my keys.” 

Razz laughed. “I’d say that’s a reasonable conclusion. Do you have a replacement in mind, or should we press on?” 

“Press on, I should think. He’s capable of resuming his duties after a few nights of thought. And, Captain?” she smiled. “I hear congratulations are in order.” 

It took him a moment, then he grinned, inclined his head and glanced up at Blue. “Thank you, Halle. When will your men be ready to ride?” 

“Within the hour,” Halle said, and Blue nodded. 

“The same for mine. Have we heard from Robyn and Adrian?” 

“Robyn is still preparing her soldiers, and Adrian had to round one of his up from a house not belonging to her wife. I expect he’ll be reporting her inability to join us soon enough. Was there anything else to report?”

“No, Captain.” they said in unison. Blue found herself distracted by the curve of his shoulder, getting a strong urge to dismount and press her lips to the dip of his collarbone. 

“Halle, you’re dismissed,” he said, pulling her back to reality. “Blue, would you mind joining me?” 

Halle laughed in a manner that would have had her disciplined by any other captain, but as it was, Razz just slapped her horse’s flank, sending her riding off in the direction of her command. 

“Timothy told her?” Razz asked quietly as Blue dismounted, and she nodded. 

“That bet of theirs. Are we hiding it? I’m sure if they were told to, they would keep their own council.” 

“Blue,” he said, picking up her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her gloved fingers. “I would be unable to hide this any longer even if I wanted to, and I do not want to. May I expect you to stay with me tonight?” 

She truly was a blessed woman, stared into his honey-brown eyes for a beat too long. “You may,” she said laughingly, then let him pull her into his arms, kissed him soundly on the lips. “And every night thereafter, i should think. You should probably announce your marriage to your company, captain, so that no one thinks you’re some kind of rogue.” 

“I am very roguish,” he said jokingly, and she snorted, accepting another kiss. 

“Was there anything else?” 

“No, my love. Make sure your men are ready to go, we’ll leave in about an hour.” 

“Yes, captain ,” she breathed, quite in the same way she had spoken the night before. 

He inhaled sharply, and she grinned at the sight of the blood rushing to his face. Starting to lean forward, he was brought up short by her hand on his chest, seeming to realize quite suddenly how many people were glancing in their direction. When he spoke, his voice was an octave higher than it had been the moment before.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say it like that, Lieutenant.” 

[the-starchariot]

Dog

Nouns / phrases: Friend, friendly person. Follower, helpmate, sidekick, employee. Friendship, acts of kindness. (Unquestioning) loyalty. Help, support, helper's syndrome. Devotion, worship. Full-hearted abandonment to someone or something. Uncritical admiration; inability to form critical, independent opinions. Dependence, submission, obedience, tractability, compliance. Anxiety to please; a need for the approval of others. Activities: To act friendly, make friends. To follow, be a good follower, show loyalty. To help, support. To devote oneself, worship, abandon oneself to someone or something. To (uncritically) admire, have no independent opinion, to not question or challenge someone or something. To depend on someone or something. To obey, comply, let others order us around or think for us. To try to please, seek approval from others, listen to others, ask permission. Attributes: Friendly, chummy. Loyal, willing to help, supportive. Submissive, devoted, dependent. Obedient, tractable. Anxious to please. As a person: Someone with the above attributes. Friend, follower, helpmate, sidekick, employee. Traditionally also: a health professional. As advice: Ask for permission! Listen to others! Give support! Negatively: don't be so submissive! Think for yourself!   Time factor *) : When we have permission. When others make it happen. 

About the meaning: Many Lenormand readers seem content with interpreting the Dog more or less exclusively as a representative of a friend, loyalty, and support. I, too, use these interpretations often. But I also employ several others. They are all deducted from the fact that (in contrast to the rather self-contained cats) dogs very much need close emotional bonds with other dogs or their human owners in order to thrive. Dogs aren't just loyal to their owners. They are also dependent on them. Friend / follower / helpmate: First and foremost, the Dog represents a person who is in one way or another friendly with or at least acting friendly towards the querent. This person could be a long-time friend, but they could also be a kind person who has only recently entered the querent's life. Traditionally, the Dog is often seen as a representative of a health professional. I myself have found it more helpful in a lot of cases to interpret the Dog as someone who is a follower - someone who, in one way or another, ranks (themselves, or objectively) below the querent. In that sense, the Dog can represent someone's helpmate or sidekick, an employee, or someone who is very submissive to or even devoted to the querent. Depending on context, the Dog might also mean that the querent themselves is showing these qualities. Friendship / loyalty / support: Apart from representing a friendly person, the Dog can also stand for friendship itself, for being friendly, for making friends, for acts of kindness. And it can represent an attitude we usually expect at least from close friends: loyalty. In many, maybe most, cases the Dog will represent loyalty in a positive, productive sense. But sometimes loyalty can become inappropriate or harmful, for example, when we remain loyal to someone even though their behaviour or the behaviour they expect from us goes against our moral conscience. In addition, well-behaved dogs are happy to help their humans, they want to support them. Some can seem so selflessly helpful that you could almost say they have "helper's syndrome". This is an originally German term which applies to the behaviour of people who define themselves so much by their helping profession (or their role as nurturing parent, supportive partner etc.) that they have become addicted to helping and do it even when it exhausts themselves to the point of burnout, or when it is not needed or inappropriate. This is why in some cases I interpret the Dog as support which exhausts or damages the supporter, or as unwelcome, importunate, and actually egotistically motivated "pseudo help". Devotedness / uncritical worship: Loyalty taken a step further, and what so many dogs seem to show their owners, is devotedness. So the Dog sometimes represents devotedness; a mindset in which a person's whole focus, all their thinking, feeling, and acting, is oriented towards something or someone they worship. In some contexts, this can be seen positively. The Dog might mean that someone is able to full-heartedly abandon themselves to someone or something good for them. But the card can also represent a person who is uncritical of ideologies, someone who is prone to unquestioning admiration, is unable or unwilling to critically question or scrutinise people or ideas they have given their heart to. The Dog can stand for an inability to form critical, independent opinions. Dependence / compliance / ask for permission!: I mentioned in the introduction that something which distinguishes dogs from cats is that dogs' happiness (on the whole) is much more dependent on having secure relationships with others. This might be one of the reasons why they are also much more dirigible. The Dog thus represents not just loyalty and friendship to me, but also obedience, tractability, compliance, and dependence. It can stand for an anxiety to please, or a habit of letting others tell us what to do. The Dog can mean that we follow someone else's orders because we are too weak or insecure to stand up for ourselves. All this is rather negative. But in moderation, the ability to be a loyal follower can be a good thing. The Dog can say that we should listen to others more, that we need to at least obtain the opinion of others before we decide something. And in quiet a few cases, I have interpreted the Dog as the advice to ask permission first. 

About the Image: Apart from the unusual eye colour for the breed I painted a typical Bernese Mountain Dog - like many other artists have done before me. Bernese Mountain Dogs are especially helpful and friendly. They are very strong, and they have been used for a variety of helping operations, traditionally for pulling carts and sledges, nowadays more as search and rescue dogs. Still, I didn't want my Dog to be just about the dog's support of and loyalty to its owner. I also wanted to get across the dog's need for a confident leader, an eagerness to please, and a sense of emotional dependence on its owner. I wanted my dog to look as if it might get separation anxiety when its owner is away. My dog is still quite young, not fully grown yet, to emphasise the "dependence" and "in need of leadership" part of the card's meaning. It is sitting right in front of you, looking up at you with an eager, slightly worried expression - it is trying to figure out what you want it to do. The leash the dog carries in its mouth is saying "Please lead me!" or, more playfully, "Let's do things together!" Also, the leash looks a bit like an umbilical cord, connecting the dog with its owner. Apart from the leash I decided against including common doggy accessories (hut, food bowl, toys etc.) so that nothing would distract from this card's most important feature: the dog's direct eye contact. There is nothing in the world this dog wants more than doing things with and for its owner. 

Dog-Rider Intrusive or nosy friend. To urge or pressure a friend to do something. News about a friend; message from a friend. Friendly message. To follow whatever/whoever appears latest in one's life. Friend or employee is being harassed. To put pressure on someone in order to help them. To push for support. To permit someone to browbeat or push you around. Permission for an action. To step in and help. Dog-Clover Happy-go-lucky friend; unburdened friend, irresponsible friend or employee who needs a leader. To take a friend(ship) for granted. Opportunity to make a friend. To become friends because it just happens to be convenient. Superficial friendship. Don't reinforce someone's strong loyalty - it's not healthy. Someone seems really devoted and loyal but really it doesn't go very deep. Irresponsibility towards a friend or employee. To not take it too badly that at the moment one is the underdog - it might soon pass. Dog-Ship Travel companion. Someone who follows you wherever you go (literally and figuratively). Help on a journey or support concerning making a change. Ask for permission before you leave / change things! Adventure with a friend. To explore a friendship. To shift one's loyalties elsewhere. To stay loyal to someone who has left; to stay loyal to someone although they won't commit. Long-distance friendship; to feel distant from a friend. Friend who is absent. To leave a friend - to look for a friend. To change something just because we were told to. Dog-House Family friend, loyalty to family/home country, support from or for the family. To crave approval from family members. The underdog in the family; compliant family member. To let tradition and rules guide us - possibly but not necessarily uncritically accepting traditional role models. Helpful plan. To obey the rules. A very intimate friend. To be used to getting help. To ask for help. Private matter between us and a friend. Dog-Tree Stable, healthy, strong friendship. To follow the lead of someone who is calm and stable and down-to-earth. Very strong, deeply rooted devotedness to something or someone. Healthy loyalty; loyalty which is unwavering; loyalty which is impossible to shift. That which supports our health. Physical means of support. To lead someone physically (e.g. by taking them by their hand). Naturally helpful; someone is tractable by nature. Dog-Clouds To not know where our loyalty should be. Confusion or secrets concerning a friend or employee. To be unsure whether someone is a friend or not, or whether their friendliness is sincere. Friend who has something to hide. We feel lost and scared because no one tells us what to do. Misunderstanding with a friend. A friendship has become boring. Dog-Snake Strong desire to always be there for someone specific or for other people in general. To follow someone very determinedly; to always submit to someone else's wishes. Conflict between wanting to follow your own agenda and wanting to be told what to do. Wanting to be friends with someone very badly. A Guru or leader (Snake) and their follower (Dog). Manipulative friend; a friend with their own agenda. Wise counsel. Dog-Coffin Loss of a friend or follower. End of friendship. Loss of loyalty, loss of support. This is where loyalty ends! To give up a follower-mentality. To bury one's friendly feelings. It's time to stop trying to help. Permission to end something. Support in times of grief. Someone who helps us end something. To worship death. Dog-Bouquet Show your appreciation to your friend(s) or employee(s) more! Visit a friend or invite them. Someone really needs to know you love them / are proud of them. Someone dependent on approval. Unconditional admiration. Admiration from a friend. Someone totally adores you (possibly not in an entirely healthy way). To make oneself look pretty to please others. Dog-Scythe To discontinue (or disallow) overly devote behaviour. To stop following someone or something. To cut off a friend, or to be cut off by a friend. Dogged efficiency. To stay "loyal" to breaking a (bad) habit. Deserved loyalty. to reap friendship. Help with cutting something or someone off. Abrupt, harsh treatment of someone who is just trying to be friendly. The wish to stay friends after a break-up. Dog-Whip To blame a friend / be accused by a friend. Argument with a friend. A cynic or abusive or abrasive friend. Trust is damaged by abrasive or abusive words or behaviour. To not stand up to abuse/aggression. To let ourselves be treated like shit (or to treat someone who depends on us like shit...) Someone tractable is bullied. To stand by an abuser out of a sense of loyalty. A helpful discussion. Support during a conflict. Justice for a friend. To meekly confess one's guilt. To knuckle down. Dog-Birds Excited, nervous or stressed friend or employee. Gossip about a friend or a friend gossips about you. Loyalties constantly change. To keep forgetting about a friend; forgetful friend. Worries about a friendship or about someone's loyalty. To be very easily distracted. Dog-Child Childhood friend, young friend, inexperienced employee. Someone is really in need of guidance here! Beginning of a friendship. A very, very suggestible young or inexperienced person who is easily taken advantage of, easily led, because they are so eager to please. To take the first step towards a friend. A delicate or weak friendship; little loyalty, or loyalty which is easily destroyed. Suggestibility leads to dependency. Definitely ask for permission! A child asks permission, or to ask permission of a child. A young or inexperienced person needs us! To support a weaker person. Dog-Fox A selfish friend; friend how has their own (hidden) agenda. To distrust someone's loyalty. Self-support. To make friends for selfish reasons. To be cautious about accepting offers of friendship. Distrust makes it difficult to make friends. A vital friendship. Necessary loyalty. Conflict between what oneself thinks is right and demands/expectations/inclination to follow what others say is right. Someone who wants to do everything themselves, vs. someone who wants someone to tell them what to do. Dog-Bear Someone's overly dominant behaviour has turned someone else into a passive follower(and maybe that's not good for either). To make someone obey. Someone submissive and someone dominant. Someone leads, someone follows. Boss vs. employee. Dominant, strong, or protective, friend. To protect a friend. Support for a leader/parent. To be too pliable to a parent's influence. Strong loyalty; powerful friendship. To ask for permission or advice of parent/teacher/boss. Devoted but maybe weak parent(al) figure. To exploit someone. Dog-Stars The wish to be told what to do; the hope that we'll be appreciated. The hope to find a friend or support. (Maybe gullible) spiritual disciple. Support concerning one's aspirations. To trust someone's loyalty. To believe in friendship. Deep connection with a friend. To ask for permission reaching for the stars. To find meaning in helping others. Dog-Stork A friendship transforms. Transition of a physical relationship into a friendship, or a transition from just knowing someone into a friendship with them. Friend is transforming or transitioning. Becoming friends is a slow process which can't be rushed. Someone who gives support in a time of transition. The longing to be allowed to just follow, to not having to decide so much. A friend's return. To win someone's loyalty back. Someone is supportive by nature - which is easily exploited if they don't take care! To yearn for friendship, to long for unconditional support. Dog-Dog*)   Very loyal friend. Support from a friend. A friend depends on you. Lots of support. An obedient follower. Someone with a true follower mentality - doesn't think for themselves. Dog-Tower Our hope for appreciation and approval is met with cool aloofness and little emotional warmth. To say no to a friend, follower, employee. To make sure that there's sufficient boundaries between us and an eager and overly dependent friend. An unequal friendship - one of the two thinks they are better (and the other agrees). Friendship in which one party always has to be the one who takes the lead, who keeps a clear head, while the other asks what they should do, and has a merely supportive role. To ask and get a "no" in return. Not allowed. Lonely, rational, or arrogant friend. Loyalty to the person on top. To support the person in authority. Dog-Garden Someone who follows the crowd, who always agrees with the mainstream, who is very dependent in their self-worth on how society thinks about them. Communal support; to help someone out together. To work together for the benefit of each other. Everybody supports everybody else - solidarity. To want to help everybody. Support group; supportive networks. To be (overly) loyal to one's own culture. To present as loyal/helpful/friendly. Dog-Mountain Difficult or silent friend. Something is an obstacle to friendship. A friendship that has grown cold. Our follower-mentality or unwillingness to stand up for ourselves hinders our progress. Insurmountable need to please others. To wait for permission in vain. To ask for help with a problem or challenge. A friend in a difficult situation. To be utterly devoted to someone who doesn't show any sign that they return the feeling. A challenge to someone's loyalty. Someone very tractable vs. someone who won't budge an inch. Dog-Crossroad "Oh crap: I am supposed to make up my own mind, but I don't want to!" Someone who follows wherever someone else goes. Someone agrees to whatever someone else says. To wait for permission / approval; to ask for other people's opinion before we decide something. Ambivalent loyalty. Support with making a choice. Someone who helps when we hesitate. Dog-Mice Lack of loyalty, lack of friendship. A false friend or corrupt employee. Friendship or loyalty is waning. To want approval from or to be devoted to someone (or something) who is NOT a good influence. Dwindling support. To feel exhausted because one is constantly trying to help others. To take away permission. Dwindling docility / obedience. To be envious of a friend. A begrudging friend. Someone fakes friendship. Betrayal of a friend or a friend betrays us. Dog-Heart A loving friend; a very affectionate friendship; to receive emotional support from a friend or give it toa friend. Reconciliation with a friend; to forgive a friend, or a friend forgives us. To actually be too friendly. Or: to offer too much help and understanding - it's not actually helpful anymore. To be too soft and thus in danger of being led. Total, utter devotion - inability to see any flaws anymore. To be dependent on the love from (or for) someone. To allow oneself be bossed around in order to get affection. To fall in love with a friend. Friend is in love with us. Someone in a caring profession; someone with helper's syndrome. Dog-Ring Strong friendship. Loyalty is what binds two people together. Wanting to please someone connects us to this person very strongly - do we really want this? Promise to a friend; promise from a friend. An unequal connection (e.g. one is more dependent than the other). Mutual support. Solidarity. Dependable friend; dependable help. Circle of friends. Fellowship, following. Mutual admiration; a mutual friend. Dog-Book An educated friend. Facts about a friend. To know everything about a friend or to let a friend know the truth about oneself. To admire education. To follow where the facts lead you. To uncritically believe everything just because it's written down or presented as factual. Support of a learning process, of someone's education. Something or someone who helps with learning something. Private teaching. A mind which is easily lead. To follow someone's thinking process. To ask for the truth. Loyalty to the truth. Dog-Letter Conversation with a friend. To express friendship, loyalty, or devotion. Non-verbal expressions of dependence. To tell someone what to do / to ask someone what to do. Orders; or to give or receive permission. Unequal conversation. To communicate support; non-verbal expressions of support. To follow a conversation. To always agree with what other people say. Dog-Man (a) Man who is: a friend, an employee, a follower, helpmate. Man who is devoted, loyal, supportive, wants to be led, needs approval or praise, doesn't think for himself. To befriend a man. To ask a man for permission. To do what a man (or men in general) say; to crave the approval of a man or men in general. Dog-Woman (a) Woman who is: a friend, an employee, a follower, helpmate. Woman who is devoted, loyal, supportive, wants to be led, needs approval or praise, doesn't think for herself. To befriend a woman. To ask a woman for permission. To do what a woman (or women in general) say; to crave the approval of a woman or women in general. Dog-Man (b) Man who is: a friend, an employee, a follower, helpmate. Man who is devoted, loyal, supportive, wants to be led, needs approval or praise, doesn't think for himself. To befriend a man. To ask a man for permission. To do what a man (or men in general) say; to crave the approval of a man or men in general. Dog-Woman (b) Woman who is: a friend, an employee, a follower, helpmate. Woman who is devoted, loyal, supportive, wants to be led, needs approval or praise, doesn't think for herself. To befriend a woman. To ask a woman for permission. To do what a woman (or women in general) say; to crave the approval of a woman or women in general. Dog-(Sensual)Lily To be sexually interested in a friend - or a friend is sexually attracted to you. Sexual relationship in which one participant is very submissive, or dependent. Artist and their admirer. To follow/obey someone who is more experienced. Employee/follower who is being seduced. A loyal/supportive lover. To beg for sex. (Possibly crippling) anxiety to please in the bedroom. to ask what someone likes in sex. To be led almost completely by pleasure. Dog-(Virtuous)Lily Virtues relevant to friendship, especially loyalty. A friend who is: loyal, impartial, virtuous, has good intentions, is stuck up, too disciplined. To be true to one's moral ideals. To stand by what one thinks is right. Utter devotion. To ask for moral guidance. To ask if it's okay to do something. Someone whose moral ideas are easily influenced. Dog-Sun Happiness in a friendship; an easy friendship. To share joy with a friend; celebration with/of a friend. Superficial friendship. To admire an idol. Someone who is loyal and supportive only as long as we're popular. Someone supports someone else's happiness. An extroverted/confident friend. Confidence in a friend. To not question appearances. Dog-Moon Someone is extremely dependent in a needy sort of way. Sad or fearful or needy friend, follower, or employee. Emotional friend(ship). Emotional issues with a friend. Emotional support. Rest/a good night's sleep would help! A helper needs rest / a respite from helping. Loyalty to one's intuition - to always follow one's intuition. Tractable emotions. To abandon oneself to one's emotions. Profound worship. Dog-Key Someone wants to be our friend. A friend wants to be closer to us - or the other way around. To welcome a friend, to include a friend. To relief a friend, to free a friend. To give ourselves permission. To allow someone to follow us, be devoted to us - which might be a good thing, or not. To be allowed; to get permission. To use someone's loyalty as a means for an end. Acceptance brings relief. Someone who helps us understand. Support in our efforts to free ourselves. Liberation from dependence. Dog-Fish Money or expensive gifts are viewed as a sign of appreciation or love. Lots of friends - but maybe the quality of these friendships is not that good. To admire people who are rich. Someone looks up to us because of our wealth. To value loyalty. An abundance of loyalty. "Too much" help - inappropriate, unnecessary help. Financial support. Financial dependence. To worship money. Dog-Anchor A friend who sticks with you no matter what. Stable friendship. Great loyalty. To stick with someone or something loyally. Someone who is the foothold for a dependent. Extreme dependence - inability to let go because of dependence. A clingy friend. To cling to a friend. Dependence on routines. To feel restricted by loyalty. To be bound to someone or by someone. Someone holds someone on a tight leash. Something hold all our attention. Devoted focus. To not question the status quo. Dog-Cross To adhere to an ideology, or to bow to a political, religious or moral authority, without ever challenging it. To never question something we've been led to believe. The dependence on strong (ethical/political) guidelines. To perceive it at an inescapable duty to be loyal. Burdensome loyalty. Responsibility for a dependent. Helper's syndrome. To shoulder something for a friend. A friend shoulders something for us. Support in times of suffering. A dogmatic/religious/suffering friend.

[kittypalace95]

I’ve never really put my personal writing anywhere, and this is hella corny and unedited at times, but for some reason I just need someone else to read it I don’t really care who. I hope that even if you don’t know the full story, the feelings come through. I also only have like two followers so Jasmine I hope you enjoy! 

I’m bleeding a lot from my vagina right now and it fucking hurts bro. it just hurts that’s all I have to say (in retrospect this is not true). At least it didn’t get on my underwear this time. I got new glasses and I think they look ok I’ll get more used to them with time. I don’t know what to do about Austin. I can’t un-know that he wants to be with other people. I’m so jumbled right now. Usually I can find a way to say exactly what I mean, but I can’t figure it out. Maybe that’s a part of being heartbroken. Am I heartbroken? The person I love wants to be with other people, he wants to kiss other people, hold other people, fuck other people, maybe even love other people. He told me so straight to my face - no bullshit (so, at least, he thinks, though I have to say I thought it stank). Did that make my heart break? This is the problem with these cliched words and phrases we use to explain what we consider to be universal experiences. There’s no such thing as a universal experience because, even as we identify with other people’s struggles or see our shared commonalities, each of us has our own inner workings - our brains don’t work or think the same, so heartbreak looks different on every single person who wears it, like we’re the sisterhood of the heartbroken hoes. But when I think about what has happened to me in the past week, heartbreak comes to mind - I have to consider it, but I really don’t know. Sometimes I feel fine, sometimes I feel like I wish I could wake up when he wants to be with me again. Sometimes I think I could handle him being with other people if I was too, sometimes it feels like an affront that he would even ask me to do this after everything we’ve been through, everything we are, everything I wanted us to be and thought that he wanted too. Yes, I can make myself happy I know that’s true. That’s what he wants for me he says. He says he doesn’t want my happiness to depend on him, but if someone you love is treating you like shit or, indeed, breaking your heart, of course their ability to crush you doesn’t change your ability to put yourself back together. He never really understood this. Of course he can hurt my feelings. Of course the way he treats me affects my mood. That doesn’t change how happy I make myself, except that I think I’m weak for letting him treat me this way. But what even is letting? I yell at him, I chide him, I call him out, dress him down, whatever it takes to let him know how I’m feeling and what he’s doing to me, but what else can I do? Is not breaking up with him letting him treat me this way? Is that the only alternative? Why doesn’t he care enough about me to stop? Why is he asking me to do this? Why didn’t he just break up with me point blank? If he’s going to be seeing other people I don’t want to be there for it. I don’t want to look at his bed wondering how many girls he’s fucked on it, how many he’s kissed there, how many he’s cuddled with, how many he’s slept with. Who else but me deserves that I have put so much work into our relationship and now he’s going to go dance with other girls, buy them drinks, and treat them special. I’ve done so much for him and this is what he’s doing to me, and I just shouldn’t take it, but I have to otherwise I’m going to lose him, maybe forever. He’s doing what he’s always done to me - put me in situations that make it impossible for me to do what’s best for myself, knowing that I will always choose him.  

He took me so for granted and he’s still doing it. After the first nine months he never had to do anything real for me, didn’t treat me like I was special to him, rarely made me feel truly wanted, was jealous and possessive of me, while simultaneously wrestling with his own feelings of being trapped (i.e. making me promise to stay in the Bay for him and promise that I would go where he went to law school, and then breaking up with me the MOMENT college ended- FUCK YOU). And I wonder if the only way to prevent that in the future is to take myself away from him. I’m not strong enough to do it right now, but I should. I really really should. Would he learn that he needs me or that he doesn’t? I’m too scared to find out.

After this, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to be with him again, not really. If he came by in 5 years and said let’s start dating again I don’t know what I’d do and I’m not even sure it would be a good idea for me to say yes. I don’t want to waste my life waiting for someone who hasn’t been able to show me that they can treat me well for real. I’ve been holding on to the first few months of our relationships for a year and a half, always thinking that’s how good it can be that’s worth waiting for, worth taking all the shit for. But he’s never been able to do that for a long time. It hasn’t even been two years and he’s had enough. He had enough after 9 months for christ’s sake. Why should I pine for that? Why should I take this type of treatment for that? Like if he wants to marry me he needs to show me that I should let him. If he wants me to be his fucking ho or whatever the fuck he wants from me, he needs to prove to me that it’s worth it. And his inability to see that he has a responsibility to show me that he is worth it is a serious flaw in the way he views himself. I love him for him - he doesn’t need to prove to me that he is worth loving - he needs to prove to me that he is worth staying with. Because EVERYONE knows (even Andy who can actually go straight to hell to be honest) that I have put so much of my energy into our relationship with genuinely little to no gain. How the hell am I supposed to have faith that this binge of him wanting to be some kind of ladies man sadboi tech bro BULLSHIT is going to make him into a better man? I don’t think it’s going to make him a better man. I think that gaining some perspective, listening to the people who know him, and actually making an effort to do right by the woman you’re supposed love more than anything shows growth and maturity. But yeah I guess growth and maturity are not really what he’s after - just some hos. Wanting to playboy around is a terrible look for him in my eyes, and he doesn’t get to decide how I should feel about this. I understand wanting to find yourself, but it’s a sorry excuse for wanting to go on a fuck spree, and not wanting to do right by someone you say you want to marry. It’s shitty behavior it’s ridiculous to ask of me - seriously ridiculous. If you want to be with me, be with me. If you don’t want to lose me, you know what to do. If you’re willing to lose me to fuck some bitches, that makes you an asshole. If I ever told him the truth, he would leave immediately and say that I’m being hateful and petty. He really *should* be ashamed of how he’s treating me and how he’s handled this - it’s a pretty cowardly, disgusting move to downgrade your good girl worth a thousand bitches to one of your bitches. You wouldn’t sell a Tesla to buy a bunch of Nissan Cubes or fucking PT Cruisers or some shit. I’m sick of being treated like I’m not the best thing to happen to him - I haven’t felt that way since like day 30.

One of his biggest problems: He won’t ever let anyone tell him any nasty truth about him because he refuses to accept that the way he acts isn’t just about him. He needs to learn to care about how other people feel and understand that the things he’s doing may be justified in his head, but that doesn’t mean they’re justified anywhere else. No one wants to hear hard truths about themselves, but as Austin continues to justify all of his behavior, and never ever accept what other people tell him, he will not grow. Of course inner growth and inner discovery is important, but it won’t do much without the help of people around you showing you your best self and helping you to understand (with your cooperation of course) how your interactions with others matters. He’s so obsessed with himself that he doesn’t actually realize that a huge part of making yourself a better person is actually being selfLESS. You wanna be selfish for a while?? Are you fucking kidding me? You think you’re about to start acting selfish lmaaoaoooo. Bro if you wanna change how you’ve been acting you should probably start with putting your energy into other people actually because you’ve been selfish for the past year and a half. You wanna do what’s best for you right now??? LMFATFO (laugh my fucking ass the fuck off) you have been doing what’s best for you for the past year and a half! You should try being selfless and putting other people first for once and see how you blossom. Growth doesn’t just come from being a sadboi for a while. Being selfish is okay - sometimes we all need to put ourselves first, but being kind and selfless and empathetic will make you shine and glow. It makes you a better person, it makes you good for this world, good for others and good for you. I’m so tired of trying to convince him that he should care about other people. Maybe if I broke up with him and told him all of this, he would finally understand. Maybe if I said no you’re being too selfish and not thinking about me at all and that isn’t ok and I’m letting you know now that if you want to be with me in the future you will have to prove to me that you aren’t selfish anymore and that real growth has taken place. He should show me that he has spent the last however much time being a giving and selfless person, becoming better, more solid, more empathetic, learning more about other people and their experiences. One reason I’m not chill with this situation is because the version of becoming better that he’s given me is not fucking great. I don’t think he’s going to be a better person from being selfish and having a bunch of hos. Go have fun and be you, but asking me to disrespect myself and downgrade my own self for your “betterment” is kind of the lowest of the low. And goddamn do I love him so fucking much it hurts. It’s crazy I never even knew what it could be like to be so in love, so utterly devoted that even when you ask something impossible of me I try to find a way to make it possible.

Should I just let him treat me like this? Is my acceptance of this new situation the same as saying that I don’t think he’s being an asshole for it? Can I tell him he’s being an asshole and still maintain this relationship? Am I allowing him to become a selfish person? I don’t know, but at least I found my voice again.

[ofcros-blog]

First Article!

Hey folks,

In this article, I talk about Strength, my experiences on where it comes from, and what it is.  This is all my personal opinion, and I am open to discourse on the subject!  Read on, and I hope you enjoy!

Caoimhin

Of Strength

So many people talk about strength and where it comes from. Some say everyone is born with the strength that they need to overcome whatever challenges come into their path. Some claim that everyone is born with different types of strengths.  Even others state that only a few are born strong who are meant to predate upon the weak. Here I am to put in my two cents on the subject, and while this is my opinion, it is one that I have plenty of experience, both personal and vicarious, to back it up.  However, that is all that I have:  experience.  I have no psychological studies, or social experiments to back up any of what I’m about to say, but this is what I see in the people and the world around me.  

Where does strength come from?  Strength is a choice, and one that must be made every single day.  From the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep, you have to keep making that choice in each moment.  Anyone can make that choice, but let’s face it, life and circumstance always get in the way of any decision.  Sometimes, there are people who have an easy time making that choice every day, as their circumstances are conducive to being able to choose to be strong.  Others, however, are not so lucky.  Life can really get in the way of strength, and someone’s circumstances can make it far more difficult to be strong.  For instance, let’s look at depression and suicide.  This is a very difficult topic for almost anyone to really examine.  Depression and suicide are not things to ever take lightly.  

What do I know of depression?  I was diagnosed several years ago with Major Depressive Disorder, and for a long time, despite increases in medications, I was only getting worse.  I won’t go into all of the experiences that I have had over the years in this particular article, but what I will say is that thanks to a wonderful therapist and incredibly supportive family and friends, I have been able to dedicate an astronomical amount of time to exploring my depression, its effects on myself and those around me, as well as how it affects others.  I don’t have any academic training on the matter, only that of experience.  My personal struggle with depression is actually why I have the ideas of strength that I do, as well as the experiences of anyone else whom I know that has dealt with depression.  

Depression makes life feel like you’re walking through a tar pit, slowly sinking deeper into the muck until it fills your lungs and you slowly suffocate.  Strength can overcome depression in every way, but what makes choosing strength is that depression takes away hope, it takes away motivation and drive, leaving someone with little foundation for that choice.  So how does someone choose strength with so little?  A healthy support network can make all the difference. Someone with depression, who has a good support system, has a far easier time deciding to be strong than someone who does not.  When you look at those who do suffocate in the tar of depression, and are left little choice but to end their life, many of them do not have a healthy support system. That is not always the case, and sometimes, despite support, the despair of depression can still be too much.  For the most part, though, a healthy support system, or the lack thereof, can make the choice of strength far easier or far more difficult.

I suppose now is a good time to talk about weakness, as one cannot understand strength without also understanding what it is to be weak. Weakness is not the inability to choose strength; instead, it is the conscious, willful decision against being strong.  Sometimes, it’s just too difficult to choose to be strong.  But weakness is something else entirely.  I have had to cut friends out of my life, whom I cared about very deeply, because they consistently chose to be weak.  When it was necessary for them to pick themselves up, they actively chose to stay on the ground and not get back on their feet. It’s terrible and unfortunate that I had to leave them behind, but it is not my job to pick them up, nor is it yours if you have people like that in your life.  That doesn’t mean that you always have to cut those people out, but if you struggle with strength as it is, weak people can be toxic in ways that most don’t realize until it’s too late.  Someone constantly choosing to be weak can be a drain, especially if you’re trying to help them.  Even if you aren’t, just seeing someone act in that way can make it more difficult to make your own choice for strength.  I don’t understand why, but I can say, from my experiences, that it does happen.  

A concept that I hear and see far too often is that of the strong preying on the weak.  I’m not going to lie, that thought sickens me.  If you have to shove others down in order to be strong, then you are not strong at all.  In fact, I would argue that forcing other people beneath you isn’t raising yourself up at all.  Indeed, it is a conscious choice to not pull yourself up, to not better yourself, and, therefore, it is weakness.  Only the weak predate upon others for their own benefit.  The truly strong instead help those around them to find their strength, they help others to choose strength every day.  It isn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that is the mark of someone with true strength.  Look at the wolves.  Yes, they hunt prey, and more often than not that prey is weakened in some way, but wolves do this to survive.  We do not need to act as such.  We have farms for our food.  When it comes to one another, a pack will always stick together.  They do not leave the sick and elderly behind, they protect them. Obviously, the pack would have an easier time without the weakened holding them back, but that isn’t what they do. They take care of each other; as such, so should we.  

How do you choose to be strong?  It’s not so simple as just saying “I’mma be strong today,” the decision comes up in each act, small or large, throughout the day.  The first is getting out of bed.  The next is sometimes making a good breakfast, or going for a walk or run before work.  Each seems so small by itself, but hidden in there is the choice to be strong or not. Letting yourself sleep until the last minute before you get ready for work can cost you a good breakfast, and make you scramble first thing after waking up.  That just increases stress for the rest of the day.  It’s such a small thing, but choosing to get up with enough time to make a good breakfast or go for a run before having plenty of time to get ready for work is one of strength.  It’s easy to just fall back asleep, but that small decision has a fairly sizable impact on your day, and it makes future choices for strength just a little easier for the rest of the day.  

Some simple choices for strength are eating healthy, exercising, talking to someone going through a rough time, taking time out of your day to listen to someone, making yourself smile at a stranger, being nice to cashiers and waiters, helping someone carry groceries to their car. None of these are large choices, but they aren’t always easy if you’re pressed for time or not feeling too hot that particular day.  Each small decision adds up throughout the day, week, year, decade, and etcetera. Strength is rarely a large decision, it’s millions of tiny decisions over time.  That’s not to say that it isn’t huge at times.  There are situations where being strong is a massive, nearly impossible choice to make.  For instance, you are immeasurably busy, and really pressed for time, but a friend or family member is truly struggling that day, and maybe they are on the verge of collapse or self-harm.  The choice for strength may seem obvious here, but in truth, that situation will make the choice incredibly difficult.  Sometimes when you’re swamped with work or just stuff that needs done, things can slide past you easily.  So taking the time to stop for just a moment to listen can make all the difference for that person, and that choice is a massive one.  Like always, sometimes the big situations are easier, sometimes they are not.  

Sometimes, you won’t win the fight, so choose your battles. If you know you’re going to have a hard time at work, maybe skip out on a chore or two the day before.  Those can wait, though not for too long.  You have to take a loss somewhere, so make it a small one in order to succeed at a bigger task.  Though it is unfortunate, sometimes that means you can’t be there for someone in a little way.  But you can’t help them if you yourself are falling apart.  It only makes it more difficult for the both of you.  Survive first, help others second.  That being said, survival isn’t just an individual activity.  Mutual survival, while more work, is always far more successful than individual survival. This also does mean cutting toxic people out of your life.  It isn’t your job to carry someone on your shoulders.  If they refuse to stand on their own, there is nothing you can do for them.  Help people to stand, don’t be their crutch.  That is not your purpose, so don’t become the sole foundation of someone else.  The same goes for you as well, do not use someone else as a free ride through life. If you need help sanding back up, seek that help.  Ask someone to listen, ask them to just sit with you for a while.  It’s a small thing anyone can do, and it takes more strength to ask for help than to refuse it.  Refusing is easy, sucking up your pride to ask for help is far more difficult than it seems.  

Strength is a choice, and one that we all must make constantly.  Sometimes the struggle for strength makes us stop caring about ourselves, and so we will often stop fighting because we don’t see a point.  But if you cannot be strong for yourself, be strong for those around you. When you decline, you make it more difficult for those who care about you, but that isn’t an excuse to leave their lives in any way.  In doing so, you create a void of pain and loss that will never be filled.  You must fight to improve, to get stronger, so that the pain is lessened.  Not only this, but you will be a symbol of strength for them.  They will see how far you have come, and they will be inspired to fight all the harder.  Don’t just be a rock for them, be the mountain upon which the storm breaks. Show them that, despite what may come, they too can withstand any adversity, and that you will stand beside them. Those of us who struggle daily, that is our obligation to those whom we care about.  And if you are lucky enough to have an easier time with strength, then it is your obligation to help those who are not so fortunate.  Take the time to tell someone they are loved, or that they can overcome their struggles.  Listen to them, let them rant or cry to you.  Go sit with them and watch a movie or a TV show.  Just these small things can make a world of difference that you cannot even imagine.  Mutual survival is far easier than individual, even if it is more difficult for the immediate, it will always pay off.  This is the true meaning of strength.  Choose it, and nothing can stand in your way.  

[thestandardcitizen-blog]

Becoming Über

This isn’t a sad story, this isn’t something to make you feel bad for me.. This isn’t a place where you can join the feel bad for yourself club. If you’re looking to join that club, simply just go kill yourself now instead of living a life of fucking saddiness and collecting friends who will feel bad for you. 

This story isn’t even for you, I don’t care about you.. Fuck you in fact. I’m going to writing this for myself, its something I need to focus on.. Which is writing, as I suck at the task. 

This is mainly a place where I keep myself in check, a requirement to provide myself with lessons i’ve learned..

Today, I’m 1/4 years old, I barely workout, only 100K in the bank.. going down daily,  and have sex 2-3 times a month.. I’m not fat, but I’m not able to kill someone with my bare hands... PSA, I don’t wish to kill anyone or think someone is about to attack me. However, humans aren’t as advance as we think. We still scan a room and compare ourselves to others. For woman, they compare their level of sexiness and their ability to catch a mans seed. No, I don’t think this is how woman think, but biologically this is the desire. Men, our desire is to be able to show we’re  a strong mate that can provide great offspring and protect. 

Now before you think I’m some red pill shell, I’m not. Even fact I can be rarely liberal and emotional.  I feel for those who are weak, but I think there are those who are weak due to choice and those who are weak that can’t afford to be strong due to limitations. I’m going to proclare two types of limitations

1. Limiting yourself 

2. Natural limitations 

Once is a choice, the second one is an what the world has given you. I’m going to declare that most if not all limitations are self limitations and not hardwired into you. 

We often like to blame everything in the world on something, but in fact most limitations is you’re inability to blame yourself. 

Now, I will admit there are natural limitations we have no control over and didn’t choice. These are the world telling us fuck you, but now we can have the option of telling the world fuck you. 

I believe there two types of people with natural limitations, those who allow these natural limitations to limit them and those who don’t. Now, I know what you’re thinking... but Mr SC...  I have cancer, I know... it sucks.. It limits you, but than there are those who have it and take it as a sign to live life more. Its a perspective aspect. I bet your saying, but what if I have downs... Ok you got me, but still you can still be the best self you can be.

This isn’t about becoming uber rich, uber powerful, uber whatever... It’s about becoming your Über self ie the best you can be... However, if you’re thinking that your trying hard enough, you’re likely only trying 50% and you have another 50% you can do. 

Life limitations are often self limitations. 

Let’s start with some assumptions.... before we do that... Let be first say, these are not founded by research, long hard thoughtful reactions to some enlighten trip, or anything.. These are merely a means to an end, you can poke holes at them all day long.. I don’t care, these aren’t meant to be stable thoughts on how life works or how the world works. These are a basic understanding on how you restart your life. 

Let be first say this, the world is always influx, everything you believe in now will change as what you believe in is often worldly, and no this isn’t some spiral bullshit about any god... Fuck god.. god is dead. 

These are ideas that you should just assume are right, even if they aren’t right. Living on nothing or research is something that will always change. You don’t have time to think how the world works, you only have time to work on how you work. If you focus on what is right and wrong all the time, you’re doing it wrong. The rich and powerful don’t care about what is good or bad, they care about what gets them their goals. 

1. Everyone is against you

Even your family and friends. Even you fucking girlfriend or boyfriend.. Even your lovely fucking grandma. They want you to be the person they know.. Not the person you want to become. They’ll lie to you, tell you that they support you, but they will always get in your way. If you need to do something, they will tell you that you’ve changed. You’re not the same person, they don’t understand your desire to be powerful. They simply want you to be who you are... which is your current self. They want the current version of you to just change a little, but not too much.  They’ll only allow you to become the person you want to become if they want to be around power. If they want to be around power, they will leech onto you and such all the power from you. 

2. You will tell yourself to stop everything as life is hard...  its not hard, you’re just weak. 

Yes, you’re a weak bitch... You keep lying to yourself, telling yourself your working hard.. you’re not... I know it and you know it too. You’re fucking looking at IG, watching porn, fucking around on youtube.. Thinking Bitcoin will make you fucking rich... Mother fucker its you.. you need to keep telling yourself that you fucking SUCK! You do suck! You’re not a news story, you won’t make it telling yourself you’re going to get lucky. Lucky is only for those who make it one time... Once your trick is over, you fall like the rest. Power comes from power, not luck. 

3. Life starts with you (Think like a Ubermensch)

You need to be a fucking human, you need to be able to speak to others, function normally, eat healthy, workout, focus on your brain and relationships. These all create a health person, if you can’t do any of this, the likely hood of you becoming powerful is small. You can’t stay up all night if you can barely walk up the stairs or run a football fields. 

Your brain is connect to your body and connected to your habits. We don’t live in a world of powerful arms, but powerful minds... You need to be on your a game, if you won’t be able to win. 

I once read once, you have two bank accounts

1. What you think of as a bank account where you have your money

2. Your emotional bank account

You need to grow all of the above

4. Become a warrior 

We often think today that we’re not at war, we’re not in the stone age fighting each other senseless for whatever reason. Therefore, we can relax and take it easy. We don’t need to be strong, we’re safe. This is a lie, the brains have taken over and you’re weakness is lack of knowledge.  We’re at a different stage of warfare, this one is cleverness. We’re not going to be able to be clever, if the meat your brain is riding is fucking trash. Therefore, you must become a traditional warrior as well as becoming a warrior of books. 

Now, I know you’re going to think to yourself.. Well, I bought the #fourhourworkweek... Well, i know you did... You’re a weak bitch that needed someone to tell you how to live. Today you’re weapons are game theory, and no not the dumby guide to game theory.. Today you read people who have researched for years and you read those fucking dull boring shit that no one wants to read. 

Prepare yourself for war, both in the body and mind... Be able to cheat a person while at the same time being able to kill them with your hands (note: don’t kill people, we’re just using it as a metaphor)

5. Control Yourself

The world wants to control you, it wants you to buy useless things and do useless stuff. These are the powerful stealing from you, but you need to avoid this. Now please buy whatever the fuck you want, but only do it from the top. When you buy like a powerful person, but you’re buying on loan.. you’re really a fraud. Buy the Rolex, but wait until you can buy 100 of them with cash. 

Control your desire to 

1. Touch yourself

Don’t cum alone, powerful person makes someone else to make them cum. 

2. Control your habits

Stop fucking eating like shit

3. Control your thoughts

You’re thoughts often aren’t the truth, you’re an emotional bitch that can’t control who you are... Become in control of everything within your mind. 

4. Define who you are

You might not be the person you want to become, but you’ll have the chance to get there... but you need to first define that person and take action daily

5. Stop fucking downloading apps 

Yes, sounds odd.. but this is how we waste more time than you think. If you need a Getting Things Done App... Fuck yourself. All you need is a .txt file or todolist.site. 

Delete all your games, social media, etc. 

6. Charm

Learn to charm people, learn how to handle people and manipulate them. Once you learn manipulation, you’ll learn how you’re manipulated. However, charm doesn’t have to be about manipulation, it can simply mean getting people to like you by valuing them and caring about them as humans. 

7. Stop Lying to yourself

You’ll always lie to yourself about everything... No gym today... Im too tried, I’ll make up for it on Tuesday... No you won’t.. Just fucking do it... You’ll keep planning, but instead of thinking of your plan all the time just do the plan. It’s much easier. 

I’m going to end this here... I know this is just random thoughts, but my brain is often random sometimes. Therefore, I throw these thoughts out there and look upon them later to learn from them. I know many of you will think I’m some heartless person with a limited world view. Maybe you’re right. However, im more interested in just saying fuck.. these are the facts that I find are valid right now for me... I can change them later, the choice is mine.

Also, don’t treat people like shit in normal day to day life. Love people and love yourself, but this war is within yourself and not external. 

[sarahburness]

Feeling Anxious? People-Pleasing Could Be to Blame

“Living with anxiety is like being followed by a voice. It knows all your insecurities and uses them against you. It gets to the point when it’s the loudest voice in the room. The only one you can hear.” ~Unknown

White lights flutter before your eyes. Your chest tightens, as if under the weight of a hundred ten-pound bricks. You wonder if your next breath will be your last. Emotions rip through you: fear, glooming dread, hopelessness. Without warning or clear cause, these feelings consume you.

You start to wonder if you’re going crazy. It’s like you no longer have control over your own body, your own thoughts.

This is the experience of chronic anxiety. And if you’ve ever encountered it, you know that the presence of it—and the absence of answers or solutions—can make you feel like you’re losing it. It can make everything that was once enjoyable feel like a struggle.

I know this feeling all too well.

I used to suffer from periodic anxiety attacks in my early twenties. They left me perplexed and afraid. I felt like I was being possessed. I felt out of control and believed I was dying all the time, with no evidence of a real illness.

Anxiety stole parts of my life from me, until I decided I wouldn’t let it take away my hope for a better future. One day, embarrassed after having to pull over onto the side of the road in order to breathe, I decided to get help for my anxiety attacks.

I realized then that people pleasing was causing me anxiety in two ways.

First, I felt anxiety about being imperfect, making mistakes, and making choices that others didn’t approve of, especially in my family relationships. Then I felt more anxiety because I thought I shouldn’t feel this way. I thought if people knew I was suffering from anxiety that they would reject me.

Life can be messy, strange, and hard sometimes. And it gets even harder when the faith you once had in yourself is bulldozed by your inability to take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

It’s hard not to blame yourself. It’s hard to avoid feeling inadequate, like your issues are all your fault. It’s especially hard when you’re a people-pleaser.

Chronic people-pleasers want to look presentable all the time, like we have it all together and our lives are perfect. Anxiety doesn’t fit into the perfect lives we’ve established for ourselves. So when it hits, we become our harshest and cruelest critics.

We fail to realize that when we don’t accept our symptoms, we only exacerbate them. We forget that judging things never makes them better. We can’t help but get angry with ourselves.

Stop Playing Pretend

Anxiety had its most crippling effects on me when I was in college. I believed I needed to get all A’s on my report card in order to be a good student. I also believed that if I had to study to get good grades, I was somehow intellectually inferior.

I studied a lot for tests—more than what I thought should be necessary. But when I talked to other people, I pretended like I’d barely studied at all. And whenever I received the occasional B, I beat myself up pretty harshly.

I didn’t want anyone to know that I didn’t have the best report card. Little did I know at the time it made me appear pretentious and stuck up.

After graduation, I interned at a university clinic, where I started to see clients. With each client, I was assigned a therapy room. This one time, I accidently used a room that wasn’t assigned to me. When the therapy was over, the clinical supervisor was not very happy with me and did not have trouble showing it.

Not knowing how to handle disappointing someone, I cried to her and ran off because I could feel a panic attack coming on. Later I felt like a baby, and couldn’t understand why I had such a strong reaction to making a mistake.

Later I realized I was always anxiously trying to please people because it was difficult for me to deal with disappointing others. I thought somehow making a mistake devalued me as a person, and that made me anxious to think about.

I would assess my worth on how much I could do right, instead of realizing I had intrinsic worth regardless. This experience helped me understand that my urge to please was based on anxiety and fear more than anything else.

I spent that time of my life hiding who I was and putting a fake smile on my face.

In trying to appear perfect, I became rigid and lost my edge and my humor. I resisted my outgoing personality because I thought I would interrupt people too much. I thought I should always let others take center stage while I didn’t ruffle any feathers in the background.

I pretended everything was great, but it wasn’t. I was suffering from crippling anxiety, feeling disconnected, and often misunderstood. I was hiding my pain, and my frustration with people who were acting rude and selfish.

I gave advice and ran to the rescue of anyone in despair, and partook in activities that I didn’t necessarily enjoy. I hid my true self by hiding behind other people’s problems. I convinced myself that there was no room for me.

Through my own experience, I learned that the greatest changes begin when we look at our problems with interest and respect, instead of judgment and denial. When we allow our true thoughts and feelings into awareness, we have the opportunity to learn from them instead of unconsciously reacting to them without knowing why.

We keep our negative feelings relaxed by not ignoring them, and we increase our awareness of reality by being willing to encounter our personal truths.

After therapy, I learned that my panic attacks were a reminder that I was a human, not a perfect being. I needed to be acknowledged for who I was, instead of always putting others first or forcing myself to have it all together.

I needed to know that my worth didn’t depend on what I did for others or what grades appeared on my report card.

Our bodies have so much wisdom, and sometimes they know more than we realize. Sometimes our anxiety is merely a signal telling us to take a closer look within.

Anxiety As A Symptom, Not The Disease

When I first sought therapy for my panic attacks, I thought they were a sign of weakness that needed to be eliminated. What I came to understand is that we can choose to bury our unexpressed emotions and deep thoughts, but they’ll come back later, often in unpleasant ways.

In my case, they came back as panic attacks. When aspects of ourselves are distanced, denied, or devalued, they’ll always try to make us listen by surfacing as unwanted symptoms.

Think about what some aspects of your ignored self are trying to tell you. Maybe your symptoms are coming up as chronic anxiety, depression, muscle pain, headaches, feeling lost, etc.

The analogy of the missing roommate, from Bill O’Hanlon and Bob Bertolino’s book Even from a Broken Web: Brief, Respectful Solution-Orientated Therapy for Sexual Abuse and Trauma, can help clarify the impact of ignoring our inner selves.

The Missing Roommate

Imagine that there are a bunch of people living together in a house, and they decide to kick out one of their roommate because they don’t like him. They lock him out and change the locks.

He comes to the door and tries persistently to get back in, but the roommates tell each other to ignore him, thinking he will go away.

After a while, he becomes exhausted and slumps against the door. They think he’s gone away and won’t cause any more trouble. For quite a while, it seems to have worked. But he’s really just sleeping outside the door.

Eventually, something wakes him up, and he decides he wants to get back in the house. He pounds on the door again but gets no response and becomes tired again. Finally, he becomes desperate and crashes through the front window.

That is what happens when parts of your true self are vanished, unexpectedly. The parts of you that went missing will want to show you who you’re meant to be. They’ll scream, “I want to come back! I am part of you! I will not be ignored!”

This is how it happened for me. I got so caught up in trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be, I lost who I actually was.

However, when we devalue parts of ourselves, they develop a mind of their own. They may go away for a while, at the expense of our wellbeing and relationships, but before long they’ll come crashing through the front window.

We must realize that the experiences we have, even seemly negative ones, are here to teach us, challenge us, and allow us to grow.

How you see yourself, your life, and your options is shaped by your mindset. If you live with the mindset of a people-pleaser, you’ll constantly feel pressure to fit in, make others happy, be liked, gain acceptance, and seem happy all the time. That’s a lot of pressure. No wonder you feel anxious!

When I reached out for the help of a therapist, I thought there was something wrong with me because of how sick I’d gotten. I wasn’t able to see that even if I could benefit from making some changes, my anxiety wasn’t my fault. I needed to grow so I could learn to better manage my life and be okay with sometimes disappointing other people in order to take care of myself.

It’s okay to make mistakes; it’s alright for people not to approve of all your choices; it’s fine to have the occasional issue. In fact, it’s through the pitfalls of life that you can learn and experience who you are.

I’m thankful for my panic attacks. They allowed me to open my eyes and change my life. I started making myself a priority and embraced my imperfections with open arms.

—

Editor’s note: Ilene has generously offered to give away two free copies of her latest book, When It’s Never About You: The People-Pleaser’s Guide to Reclaiming Your Health, Happiness and Personal Freedom. To enter to win one of two free copies, leave a comment below. You don’t have to write anything specific—”Count me in” is sufficient! You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, December 24th.

About Ilene S. Cohen

Ilene S. Cohen, Ph.D., is a psychotherapist, blogger, and professor. She’s a regular contributor to Psychology Today, with her most recent release of her self-help book entitled, When It’s Never About You. Her work is fueled by her passion for helping people achieve their goals, and lead fulfilling and meaningful lives. To learn more about Dr. Ilene visit www.doctorilene.com.

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The post Feeling Anxious? People-Pleasing Could Be to Blame appeared first on Tiny Buddha.

from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/feeling-anxious-people-pleasing-could-be-to-blame/

[thethagtochina-blog]

Digesting Blogs:

It’s strange what decides to bring people together. What twists and turns they have taken in life to bring them to this very moment. Inevitably we all have one outstanding connection here and it is our writing. The love for it, the loathing of it and our insatiable itch to just do it. Our blogs are diverse in the way we ourselves are but these little thematic similarities are there to remind us of perhaps a culture we are creating. It has all taken something for each of us to be here, and with each person’s unique bravery also comes their unique vulnerabilities. Being a creative of any kind requires you to place yourself in a situation to be scrutinised in some way shape or form. It is clear from each of the blogs that we are finding ways of expressing, overcoming and just embracing this feeling of being vulnerable.

In Matt’s China Tour Blog there is emphasis placed on moving past ‘inevitable’ differences and moving focus towards what we will be able to create ‘We will be striving together for something beautiful, and that is enough to bring us together. Or at least, that is all I can hope for.’ In Ella’s Salty Living and Salty Writing she too noticed the emergence of a theme of self doubt. ‘As writers, we approach vulnerability in a number of ways, many of which are unusual. At times we loathe to put ourselves out there.’

Taylah’s post entitled Reflections delineates the struggles we have of finding suitable content, how do we have the right to something we know nothing about? ‘How can I write an honest blog post about these things without having seen the city ((Guangzhou)) beforehand?’. Then not only content but truthfulness, authenticity, Kat discusses this thought in her blog ‘I sometimes get stuck. Am I writing the truth? I know something can be true to me that isn’t true for others’. Ashley’s Take Me Away further explores the position of being faced with another culture that is both inspiring and terrifying, and how exactly we should approach it. ‘The main issue: confusion. what to write about? how to write about a foreign country without seeming offensive?’. Our own sense of otherness is warped into a newfound vulnerability. We don’t want to, mustn’t offend.

However we need to remember to not only move past this sense of vulnerability, our hesitations, but to harness it, as regarding, and acknowledging our weakness will only solidify our strengths. Mentioned in Jacinta’s Ocean Crossing is how we each bring a flair forward that is solely our own ‘I was surprised to find that each of my classmates had injected their own personality into the aesthetics of their blog. This highlights that we each have something different to contribute to this process’. It is important to remember everyone feels this at some point. A hesitation, a pause, but it is something we must learn to ignore in order to move forward. Georgie’s Words/Pictures/Junk expresses that hesitation ‘I think a lot of my own life has been lived in fear of making an idiot out of myself. I have shied away from voicing my opinion and tend not to volunteer for opportunities that require me to put myself out there.’

Lets all start making idiots out of ourselves!

This is a collaborative process, one which would not work if we were to shrivel in self deprecating madness. As stated in Lauren’s Wandering ‘learning is about mentoring and friendship’.

Perhaps the truly special thing about these blogs is how they work as a cohesive whole. In Nat’s Transit she mentions the lingering self doubt when placing her blog comparatively against the class ‘I don’t feel confident in how my blog looks, how it feels to touch visually if that makes sense. It appears two dimensional at the moment, and everyone else’s seems four or even fifth dimensional’. We may need to cease viewing it in this manner. Perhaps none make sense on their own and we must bring them together as a whole to truly appreciate our work here.

As writers we accept a sense of isolation: These are my thoughts, my feelings and are my burden alone. This studio pushes us to move forward, not in a messy disarray of literary angst but as a solid unit that has the ability to work cohesively in order to create something truly magical.

Travis notes in his blog that ‘we all have different reasons for writing’. We may write to make sense of our world or our place within it. We may write simply for the enjoyment of it. Maybe we write because not writing is an intolerable alternative. Maybe writing keeps us sane.

When we collaborate we are forced to ask questions of each other. We are forced to offer small pieces of ourselves in the process. Writing is solitary, but the sharing of writing is not. Yes, there is the fear, the overwhelming, sometimes crippling, fear. As Jess B. remarks in her blog Leaving Footprints, often we question whether we have anything interesting to say. But even as many of us profess to be struggling with how we present ourselves and our writing, our blogs demonstrate a deep passion for our craft.

Inevitably, there are moments when we all write ourselves into a bleak headspace—or perhaps it is the inability to write that causes us distress. And yet, writing is also capable of elating and inspiring us. Writing is a task, like any other, and it can be alternately gruelling and stimulating. Lisa concluded her post about editing with the line: ‘reminding everyone ((myself)) that writing is fun most of the time.’ Sometimes as writers we need to be reminded of this because it is all too easy to simply put down the pen and walk away when it gets tough.

These blogs are a wonderful insight into the processes of our peers. Without even meaning to, we give away so much of ourselves in our posts about writing and our expectations about going to China. The way in which we weave elements of our own personalities and interests into our interpretation of what is happening around us is endlessly fascinating. Through our blogs we see the process of collaboration from so many diverse points of view.

For Shona, learning about Chinese culture has brought to mind the science-fiction film Arrival. For Jess Z., part of the process of preparing for the study tour is reading relevant literature such as Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie. Despite attending the same classes and doing the same tasks, we all absorb and react to this collaborative process in different ways. As Pallavi writes in her blog The Backpack Journal: ‘What kind of thoughts I have largely depends on the music I’m listening to’. All of us are influenced by what we read and watch and listen to, and this is apparent in our unique individual processes.

This collaborative program enables us to each bring our own special insights and skills together, and in doing so we are able to create something pretty darn great.

When perusing everyone’s blogs, I noted that many of us found the act of writing a blog post to be a moment of reflection, consolidation and meditation; a space offered as a blank canvas in which we can share our thoughts, feelings and anxieties. I think that the blogs have been important in this way as they work to cement our different experiences throughout this shared journey as well as something to look back on. They also reinforce a connection between not only our writing, but with each other. Connection seemed to be a buzzword that featured in a few posts including Pallavi’s post about culture shock. She stated that she ‘wanted to connect with people across the world looking past language barriers and the foreign’ to create a common understanding. Sophie suggested that authenticity played a big role in connecting with others. Perhaps this is something to remember when editing the works of our Chinese counterparts – to be authentic and to allow the authentic experience of the Chinese work to shine through. While yes, there are barriers, we must instead focus on overcoming those barriers – of language, of inexperience and of culture. But also the barriers that we create. Many mentioned how anxious they were in the lead up to this trip and, to reiterate Travis’ latest blog, we must ‘be brave, be honest and allow ourselves to be vulnerable.’ Another common thread was that of empathy: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. Jess Z has written a whole post on empathy as an editor, with a focus on editing cross cultural work, which requires additional sensitivity. She says: ‘although empathy will not impart the practical knowledge of how the rules of grammar differ between cultures, or how their cultural ideologies, values and communication differ from our own, empathy will still give the incentive to the editor to feel. And when we feel, we will invest. And this means investing in how to work with the author and navigate the barriers between cultural differences.’ Jules, while she hasn’t spoken about it directly, employed empathy when communicating with her student, going ‘beyond the written’ as she says, exchanging emojis and images and using google translate.

A few others reflected upon Paula’s anecdote about her friend John and the interest, attention and listening skills he employs while overseas developing cross-cultural relationships. She says in her blog post that ‘a person’s disposition is critical, the inner stance we take – our attitudes, intentions and motivations, our hopes and expectations, our fears and prejudices – have a major impact on our experiences and interactions with others’. I think that this ties in with empathy and reinforces the fact that sensitivity to others, particularly in regards to helping our Chinese friends ‘save face’, will bridge the gaps between cultures.

We look forward to continuing to read everyone’s blogs as we move closer to our departure date and our very own cross-cultural experience. :) Thank you.

Authored by: Me (obviously this is my blog) Georgie Young- https://wordspicturesjunk.wordpress.com/ Jacinta Walsh- http://oceancrossingblog.tumblr.com/