#monkey brain unhappy with this

[shizuoi]

talk shop tuesday! you mentioned a l&co zombie au, huge fan of this concept and it has so much potetial in l&co setting, im so here for it! could you share a bit more? 👀

heehoo i am sooo excited for this one, both plot and character-wise!!!! if def has a lot of potential in l&co since everyone is kinda already living in an apocalypse so they have the basics down of being prepared to fight, having weapons, etc., but it's been really fun to toy with enemies that don't have set rules/identifiable ways of behaving the same way ghosts do (or if they do, our fearless heroes havent figured it out yet a la the beginning of the problem). i also just love horror media and zombies a lot so it's been really fun to create my own ideal zombie! i like sound-focused zombies and this au has also given me the opportunity to insert some slivers of humanity in them that cut deep when it matters :3c

it's gonna be george-pov (eventual cot3) but george is def my fav character and i really get to dig into his brain and think about his personality and his familial connections and his culture in a way that i haven't done before for another character. i think to have him be at the center of this au, the researcher who needs to know everything who is then thrust into a world where he doesn't know anything and he's desperately trying to find his footing while protecting the people he cares about, is probably the juiciest angle that i could go at this au!!

[paleoleigh]

Thinking about Stede building the Revenge for him and his family. How he knew he was unhappy and so was Mary and probably so were the kids, but his first thought/plan A was for them all to go live at sea together instead of running away himself. A stupid plan based on a self-centered idea of what might make things better? Absolutely, he clearly had a monkey playing symbols in his brain listening to Mary talk about her hatred of the ocean. But he built the Revenge as a home for his family, with a room for the kids (Jim and Olu's room?) and a library which contained children's stories and secret passageways for fun, for playing games.

Having listened to a lot of true crime podcasts with shitty-father villains, it strikes me how the idea that Stede could have just taken the kids is literally never touched on. Yeah, he probably knew he couldn't take care of them on his own, maybe didn't want to (we only really see him interacting with them by playing pirates), but Alma and Louis remain the only people Stede has canonically said the words "I love you" to (yes yes he loves Ed he was about to say it to him in s2e4 and switched tactics, but putting them in a similar category with Ed is pretty telling imo). Like...it probably never once occurred to Stede that another man might have taken the kids with him to spite his ex or to live their happy life of playing pirates on the high seas. Mary said I don't want a boat, I don't hate our lives, and Stede went welp, guess I'm on my own then.

There's a lot that can be said about Stede as a distant father who abandoned his family. I'm not saying he's the bastion of perfect fatherhood. But he's so clearly torn up about leaving them because he knows, morally, that was wrong, and even after he sets things right, he still talks about them ("two messed up kids probably/ didn't fit in with Mary and the kids") which tbh, I thought we were never gonna mention the Bonnet family again after s1e10.

Idk. I think Stede loves his kids as best he can for someone who probably never wanted them, and ultimately helped them out in the long run by not having them have to grow up in a miserable household with unhappy parents and an emotionally distant father who simply couldn't do better than playing games with them.

Also, thinking about how a lot of OFMD is thematic rather than verbally explicit...I think it's incredibly telling how upset Alma was when Stede came back, and that she wanted split the orange so they would still be connected no matter how far apart they were. That in a show with pretty heavy-handed symbolism of physically/emotionally abusive fathers and cycles, the kids are never, ever shown to be afraid of Stede, that when they play together they're all happy, that Stede says he loves them even though they were asleep and didn't hear it, and that the one time they physically touch, it's Alma reaching out to tug Stede's hair in a playful way, and he responds in kind. That Stede breaks the cycle of emotionally distant and abusive fathers by A. Not belittling them ever and B. Leaving when he realized his presence was making things worse.

Tl;dr Stede Bonnet is objectively a bad dad, but he still loves his kids.

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

Lol, I can’t be certain I had scheming against Faye in mind when I sent that, but also 🤔 I have definitely “lol-ed” at the back and forth I do between you two so it is indeed possible. Vaguely, I think I did 😂 my brain is telling me I thought it would be funny, I didn’t know it would actually spiral sm XD Void Liv you say 👀 a Junji Ito inspired botanical design of an inky dark void would be a pretty cool badge 🎮 ✨ wow this RPG called “inflict brainrot on Fluffy’s friends” is pretty fun ^_^ so many achievements to unlock! Even better than Papa’s Pizzeria

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zoGxPuMH5QI&pp=ygUWTGVnbyBtb25raWUga2lkIHggZXBpYw%3D%3D

“Know this, monkey. We’re not so different, you and I. We both fight for what we think is right.”

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=A73SfjLoErQ&pp=ygUWTGVnbyBtb25raWUga2lkIHggZXBpYw%3D%3D

I’m kinda surprised it was that animatic that led you down the dark path and not the other Lmk x Epic animatics I sent to Faye for you XD since they were longer but that one was more angsty, I see the vision.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FPpwpD5ufvE&pp=ygUWTGVnbyBtb25raWUga2lkIHggZXBpYw%3D%3D

I think “Done For” kinda matches the whole situation with LBD and Macky huh 🤔 “One misstep, one failure, and I will erase the very memory of you.”

This made me laugh a lot anon. I'm glad Faye and I's antics are entertaining, we have fun.

So void Liv comes from Faye and I's angst war days watching Teen Wolf, where when I entered this mind set that we dubbed "void liv" (after void Stiles in 3b), I would be able to write really painful scenes without flinching and would just laugh when Faye yelled at me (I dont know how much you know about teen wolf but I once killed off a character named Corey, a character both Faye and I enjoyed) Now it might not SOUND super evil or unlike how I naturally am, but at the time I pretty much refused to write character death and unhappy endings, and would only do so when I was "void liv"

A Junji Ito inspired botanical design of an inky dark void would be a pretty cool badge

I literally love this idea so much, oh my god

Okay so it's not that the My Goodbye animatic sent me on a dark path, it didn't! It sent me on the path of imagining a sunburst duo falling out. That falling out and the thought of Mutiny caused me to start down a dark path and my evil little brain has made it worse at every turn. Like, everyone is dead and Wukong cries, evil

I checked out each of these animatics and they're all amazing, ty for sending them to me!

Yes, 100% on the LBD and Macky vibes with Done For

Ty Anon! 💜

[yellowcry]

Masterpost of my encanto content

Other accs:

youtube

AO3

Fanfictions:

One-shots for general Encanto: Broken, healed | Who am I if I can't carry it all? | Darkness | Protector | Until there's nothing left | Sisterly wrath | Fear in the night | Like mother, like daughter | Stitches

All the heavy things she can(not) shoulder — Mirabel dies in Bruno's tower. Luisa can't help but feels that it's her fault

Works with few chapters

The brain is flooded, Luisa and Bruno: Part 1 | Part 2

Deeper throught | Luisa gets lost while searching for Mirabel | Chapter | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Luisa with insenetivity to pain (oneshots): Rain drops | A burning flesh | Misfortune kids | Hot issue |

Bad things happen bingo: Touch starved | Falling through the ice | Chickenpox | Unhealthy coping mechanisms

Video content

AMV:

Dancing monkey | Oh no!

Edits/short:

The guilty tango Luisa-centric

Solgier, poet, king - Middle kids

We're reliable with ladies - second-gen couples

idk how its called -Luisa-centric

Abuela's girl — Isabela-centric

So I'm thankful for my sister — Mirabel and Luisa-centric

AU's

Pedro and Alma swap: Alma dies, Pedro lives

A bit of explanation

What does fear cost? - fic about Alma's death

More stuff mainly about how Pedro treats his family

It's a great night — the proposal evening

Who walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp stings? — Pedro has a chat with Luisa about protection and emotions

Cursed gifts: Instead of dying, the magic turned gifts into curses

Curses explanation: Grandkids | Adults

How gifts work

Light — Bruno gets sick over his endless visions

As tough as the chrust of the Earth is — Luisa's body changing. It's definiteny not a pleasing expirience.

How can you keep everything together? — While gifted Madrigals are in troubles, the others have to balance between everything

Cracked: The cracks don't appear. The problems keep growing.

Beginning

The next generation part 1

Cold sisters

Spouses

Hidden and left to rot — Kellie learns that her mom never wanted to marry nor to have kids. She isn't happy with this discovery

Sobering drunkenness — Luisa wasn't sure why she started to drink. It just happened.

Hair and brain — Dolores bruching her daughter's hair. The other one thinks that it's her time

The weight of responsibility — Isabela thinks about her role as the new matriarch

Married to the grave — Isabela's wedding

Gluing the broken glass — gift swap au

Chapter 1. — Nothing in this world could ever bring them down

Chapter 2 Tell me what to do to make it all feel better

Chapter 3 Todos vienen a celebrar

Mamaluisa

The cost of a world

Place your trust in me, you have no one else

You left me dripping in the wax (YLMDITW/wax) — Mirabel runs away. Luisa is unhappy

Chapter 2

Garish — roleswap

Sisters || Triplets

[broomsticks]

bc monkey brain does what it wants to do, whenever it wants to do it, have a ridiculously belated

halloween-themed wolfstar rec bingo

🐈‍⬛ halloween '81: October 30, 1981 // Penknife // 1k, M 🩸 blood: The Cartography of the Wreck // berhanes (sqvalors) // 2.6k, T 😱 full moon gone wrong: How to be happy // TheDivineComedian // 6k, T 👹 monsters: Amateur Cartography // montparnasse // 50k, M 🕸️ free space: If We Make It Through December // Suchsmallhands // 14k, G 🍬 trick or treat: they walk in the dark // watfordbird33 // 1.7k, T ⚰️ death: Small Bones of Courage // 15k, E 🎭 costume party: Lie With Me // Squidgilator // 12k, M 👻 ghosts: The Love Song of Sirius Black // kaydeefalls // 7k, M

bingo board by @moonwalker94 for hpfc :)

🐈‍⬛ halloween '81: October 30, 1981 // Penknife // 1k, M. two parallel stories, canon compliant, short and so punchy.

The last good day he will remember, Remus spends the afternoon sitting on the windowsill of his flat pretending to read a book. Actually he is drinking in the deep blue sky and the golden light through the trees and the quiet of the street when everyone is off to work or school. The book is so that he can tell himself he is doing something, because there is no time these days to waste, even though he has nowhere to be until evening.

🩸 blood: The Cartography of the Wreck // berhanes (sqvalors) // 2.6k, T. angsty trust-issues first war wolfstar in interconnected vignettes get me every time. every time.

He thinks about the bruises etching themselves into his bones and the ache settling deeper than muscle. He thinks about how the man tending his wounds is the man holding him together is the man who might be trying to take him apart.

😱 full moon gone wrong: How to be happy // TheDivineComedian // 6k, T. it’s the moon in poa that goes wrong :)

"I want to go," said Harry quietly. "This is my fault, after all. If I had conjured a better Patronus –" "No, Harry" said Lupin. "It's my fault. If I hadn't turned at that precise moment –" "It's not your fault you're a werewolf!" said Harry. "It's not your fault you're an unhappy teen," said Lupin. "Still, we both failed at playing the cards we were dealt with, didn't we? We were playing an unfair game, and this -" he gestured to the corridor, "this is losing. Let's go and face it."

👹 monsters: Amateur Cartography // montparnasse // 50k, M. first war montparnasse fics capture just everything i think and feel and want to say about monsters and this ship so have an extra-long vibe quote (it's two sentences).

Monsters, it turns out, are what Dumbledore has in mind: werewolves mostly, same as it’s been for nearly a year, but now too giants and vampires and hags crouching in the distant crags and cracks of England where the bloodless whispers of war go unheeded by those living unfettered at the knife-edge of constant battles already long lost, strange covens of pale, mud-splattered people huddling under the cowl of their curse with their own dialect, their own dark comforts, their own brutal justice, weighed on the scales of fearful necessity and savage hunger. The cottage in the woods will lend him greater credence than a flat in Camden and a part-time desk job at a Muggle library and, though Dumbledore doesn’t say so, a handsome, reluctant Auror-to-be boyfriend with a last name louder than his motorbike; so Remus hoards what little he has and settles into the hillside, fighting his way through the roses and the mint that’s conquered the old garden and taking tea outside with The Secret Mating Patterns of Boggarts and Misery for Pastime and Profit at sundown, dwindling into the house with the ancient, dusty draught blowing through the kitchen every night and speaking its comfort against his lips and his ears, gently, gently.

🕸️ free space: If We Make It Through December // Suchsmallhands @shipsnsails // 14k, G. this fic is a solace, a warm little shelter in a snowstorm, a temporary respite in between the two wars.

He remembered when it was warm. Sipping absently and staring vacantly, he remembered summer and the heat that touched every memory. Even the warm nights on the parapets of Gryffindor tower, when four boys could gather and smoke cigarettes and grass without bundling up. The stars overhead seemed closer and blurrier in the summertime. Only the moonlight remained untouched by the sweetness of the summers, which brought visits at the Potter’s, and swimming in creeks without a shirt because the only people near enough to see were his friends.

🍬 trick or treat: they walk in the dark // watfordbird33 // 1.7k, T. have a side of james/peter to go with your remus/sirius 😘

They run until they’re somewhere else, and then Sirius is slamming Remus up against the wall, and every other time felt like play, but this doesn’t feel like play. This feels like James and Peter. This feels like Sirius means it. And then he’s molding himself to Remus. He’s fitting his curves and he’s touching him everywhere and there’s fire in between them and they’re kissing. They kiss like the end of the world and the beginning. They tumble and they’re not coming up.

⚰️ death: Small Bones of Courage // 15k, E. small bones small bones my love my baby! i'm not normal about this fic. what writing -- but it is Death, front and center.

Sirius insides tug reluctantly, but he nods. The eternal serpent in his blood rears up and strikes violently at his spirit for rolling over like this, letting the dark creature have its way, losing the only battle worth fighting—infused with the unique strength of resignation, Sirius does the bravest thing he’s done in years and simply ignores the venom. “Alright,” he sighs. Alright, alright, alright. So much of Sirius’ time has been spent convincing himself of that vapid untruth. He thinks fondly of the time that he has now—precious little, but time nonetheless—to spend on enjoying what’s left of Remus’ existence instead of pretending that hell has frozen over.

🎭 costume party: Lie With Me // @squidgilator // 12k, M. all costume no party, i'm reccing it anyway. a polyjuice potion + magical theory-heavy first war fic.

summary: Sirius meets Remus unexpectedly, in somebody else's body. Nobody trusts anybody.

👻 ghosts: The Love Song of Sirius Black // kaydeefalls // 7k, M. ghosts in the sense of a series of canon-divergent vignettes, and ghosts in the sense of --

"You won't be here when I wake, will you?" "No," Sirius says, and he suddenly knows it's true. This is Remus' dream, and he was lucky enough to be a part of it, but his time is running out as surely as sand slips through an hourglass. "No, I won't." He kisses Remus' forehead. Remus nods, very still in Sirius' arms. He closes his eyes. "Remus," Sirius whispers. "Will you do me one favor? Please?"

[ninjastormhawkkat]

The Fall of Fair City - Chapter 10

"WHAT!" Dr. Two Brains and Becky exclaimed in angry outrage. "I can't believe they would hold you responsible for something you obviously did not do." Becky spoke as she gestured her arms in an upset fashion. "I know right." Two Brains exclaimed, just as agitated as his daughter. "The people of this city should know well by now that my crimes involve stealing cheese. If I destroy anything it's either cheese related, something that threaten's mice, or something that would hurt you in civilian mode." He exclaimed with pride. "Exactly! The storage unit was still standing when I took the Learnerer to jail. Plus you were still bruised from that machine hitting you by coincidence." Becky did not notice during her rant how her dad flinched at that last statement. "Also you were home the whole time last night and there was no way you could have gone back there without me hearing it and waking me up." Two Brains nodded in agreement. "These people don't have anything on me. It's all just hogwash and false claims to probably make themselves feel better about not having the "real culprit"." Two Brains spoke as he turned his gaze to focus back on the news broadcast. "There is no way I will let this injustice slide dad. Come on Bob." Becky spoke with fierce determination. Dr. Two Brains gave a sigh as his expression became calmer. He was mad his name was used for a crime he sure he would have remembered committing but didn't, yet it wasn't a good idea for him to retaliate with pettiness which would further convince the people of this lie."Yeah well I'll deal with it later kiddo so for now don't try to get so worked up and barge into.." Two Brains stopped talking when he heard a very familiar wooshing sound and found he was all alone in the living room sans a child and monkey. "And she's gone." Two Brains spoke with a deadpan expression and slightly annoyed tone. Wordgirl didn't know what to expect went she super sped towards the science department where she assumed the owners would still be today. In all honesty Becky was still emotionally wound about the news broadcast. Sure her dad was the top supervillain of this city. But they had no clue he had gotten hurt in a scheme that wasn't even his own. It just wasn't fair to the guy. Wordgirl appeared swiftly in the meeting room where the owners were talking with the police commissioner and some other cops, surprising the occupants, though she herself was taken aback a little when District Attorney Sally Botsford was also there. "Wordgirl? What are you doing here?" The commissioner asked puzzled. Wordgirl crossed her arms as she spoke in her usual heroic tone that was this time laced with restrained anger. "I'm here because I needed to speak to the owners about their claims from the news broadcast this morning. I was able to find you with my super hearing." Becky clears her throat to make her message clear and concise. "I'm here to say that Dr. Two Brains is innocent of destruction in that storage unit and it was impossible for him to be responsible for the crime." All of the occupants looked disappointed and doubtful of Wordgirl's claim except for Mrs. Botsford who gave an agreeing smile. "Look Wordgirl. Dr. Two Brains was there as confirmed from out interrogation with The Learnerer. We also have confirmation from The Learnerer that Dr. Two Brains knew how to break in and avoid tripping off alarms plus associating documents that the villain had worked here in the past. There is also the notion that Dr. Two Brains was unhappy being here. That shows us Two Brains had the means and motivation for destroying the storage unit last night." The Police Commissioner stated aloud. Wordgirl frowned angrily, trying her best to keep some composure. "Well The Learnerer should have also told you that coming here was his scheme and not Dr. Two Brains'. Plus If he was upset about being there, he would have cheesed or gooped the place as per his usual standards, not cause senseless destruction." @melodythebunny @dualnaturedscientist

[rivalsunraveled]

Geto + Psychological HCs

mentioned briefly on Geto's page, but I wanted to elaborate. putting it under a read more

obligatory disclaimer that mental illness =/= evil. geto just happens to have a lot of brain worms and make a lot of bad decisions.

1. He's autistic. I know this because I'm autistic.

Maybe one day I'll articulate why this is better but it's vibes. Trust me on this.

Geto has very rigid thinking patterns and social reciprocity just doesn't come naturally to him. Prior to his defection, he did a lot of masking, to blend in with other people as much as he could. He memorized social rules by rote, coming across as a quiet, mostly polite child.

This was exhausting, but made things easier for him, since seeing things that no one else could see (curses) already made him strange enough to other people, without adding onto it. He was more himself around Gojo and Shoko, but by the time he met them, he was in such a habit of masking that he rarely fully relaxed even around them.

After defecting, he masks much less, but he also lies a lot more, so it's not that he's exactly being himself, it's more that he's gone from a carefully constructed persona for survival purposes to a carefully constructed persona for deceptive purposes.

2. Bipolar II.

Doesn't quite hit full manic episodes, but he has occasional hypomanic episodes in between long stretches of depression.

3. OCD.

This started developing after Geto started at Jujutsu High and getting a lot more trauma, with the events with Riko, Toji, and the Star Religious Group being a major factor. Geto perceives a contamination from anything handled by non-sorcerers ("monkey smell"). He will clean himself off if he's near non-sorcerers for too long and avoids having things from non-sorcerers around him as much as possible (to this end, most of his food is grown for himself). If he must use items that non-sorcerers have handled, he will meticulously clean them before they are brought into his living space.

Geto truly believes there is a smell/some perceptible contamination (absent insight).

This all alleviates a nebulous dread of non-sorcerers overwhelming him/other sorcerers. If one were to really press him for explanations, he might say that these cleaning habits get rid of cursed energy that leaks from non-sorcerers, so it keeps wild curses from forming. This isn't a real thing; it's just a rationalization.

4. Misc

Geto is really reluctant to admit to having any trauma or being afraid, so he'll push that down and hide it under anger and hatred. His encounter with Toji terrified him, most especially because it shook the belief that he (and Gojo) were the strongest. Rather than allowing himself to feel "weak" for being scared and shaken, Geto focused on hating non-sorcerers. It's very "some people become hateful mass murderers to cope????" of him, but there we go.

Nothing is diagnosed for Geto. As far as he's concerned, he's generally unhappy with the state of the world and is willing to sacrifice himself to make it better for sorcerers. He knows other people think he's crazy, but they just do not understand his vision.

[billygaysanguine]

mods are asleep post entire tvtropes entry for scapegrace The self-proclaimed "Killer Supreme", an incredibly ineffectual mage who has yet to actually kill anybody. A bumbling, but tenacious foe of Valkyrie and Skulduggery. Gets turned into a zombie by Dreylan Scarab in Dark Days.

Back from the Dead: Sanguine kills him in Dark Days after finding out he's not a killer, but Scarab decides they may as well put his death to good use, and makes him a zombie. Then in Kingdom of the Wicked he gets Dr. Nye to bring him completely back to life. See Gender Bender.

Break the Haughty: The final book has him finally face the fact that he's nowhere near as badass as he'd like to be. He actually takes it pretty well.

Butt-Monkey: Seriously. He gets humiliated or injured in every appearance.

Card-Carrying Villain: He's very proud of his status as a murderer. (Er... wannabe murderer.)

Determinator: He simply does not give up. Much good it does him.

Evil Duo: Him and Thrasher, with him being in charge - though eventually, they pull a Heel–Face Turn.

Gender Bender: Nye gives him the wrong body. He's unhappy with it, to put it mildly, and while this is initially Played for Laughs, it's later elaborated that he's feeling at least some gender dysphoria and realises that while his new form makes him popular, he's not popular for who he is.

Heel–Face Turn: Decides to become a superhero in Last Stand of Dead Men. The Dark and Stormy Knight. He's equally bad at it as he was at being evil, but he tries.

Hidden Depths: They're very hidden, granted, and it takes until The Dying of the Light to discover them but would you believe that Vaurien Scapegrace passes the third test (just) and nearly becomes the King of Necropolis. And that he turns it down for the moment because he and Thrasher promised Clarabelle they'd come back.

I Can Still Fight!: With his head chopped off.

Ineffectual Sympathetic Villain: He's so dreadfully awful at being a bad guy, it's hard not to pity him, just a little, especially as Valkyrie and Skulduggery use his incompetence for their own plans. Though he does pretty much deserve it.

Losing Your Head: Under Gordon's house. Valkyrie drop kicks it.

Meaningful Name: Both his first name and his surname mean "scoundrel".

Removing the Head or Destroying the Brain: Turns out... chopping off his head won't kill him.

[theliterarywolf]

HB/HH fans have some of the worst, most monkey brain things imaginable to say about each new episode so your takes are incredibly refreshing to me (already I've seen multiple braindead posts about Unhappy Campers) so you're pretty much the only person I go to for quality HB takes.

Aw, thank you.

Yeah, though to be fair, there were some braindead takes before the episode dropped too.

"UM??? Where is Moxxie's tail?!?! The animators have just stopped giving a shit!!" Tell me you've never met a drag queen or a theater kid without telling me you've never met a drag queen or a theater kid because it is so fucking obvious that the tail is being tucked.

[calciseptinefic]

then out of nowhere, somebody comes and hits you with an ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh

Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 8 notes: Title from 'Mad Sounds' by Arctic Monkeys. Many thanks to babygato for her beta on this chapter. this fic is also available on ao3 warnings: none

.

← previous: Part 7

.

After returning to Queens and collecting the necessary foodstuffs for both making dinner and movie watching, they go back to the apartment and collapse onto opposite ends of the couch. For ten minutes, they are unmoving and quiet, both of them exhausted. Most of the day had been long and tedious, but it had been interspersed by brief periods of near frantic activity and stress, and Wade's brain needs a quick reboot before he does anything else. Peter must need a reprieve as well, because he says nothing until Wade groans and sits up.

"This is a really nice couch," Peter comments. His head is fully supported by the back cushion, and he stares at the skip trowel textured ceiling, unseeing. "Like a cloud for my butt."

"Bought it for naps," Wade tells him. What he does not say is that he bought it almost four years ago, when he started needing naps in the middle of the day and his previous sectional wasn't cutting it. At first Wade had thought that the sudden lethargy was a consequence of nearing thirty; a lot of people complained about slowing down in their late twenties, so he thought nothing of it. Eventually, however, he found out that his tiredness was a side effect of cancer, the growing tumor in his testicles stealing his energy as it grew and spread.

Wade physically shakes his head to expel such unhappy thoughts from his brain. Then, getting to his feet, he asks, "Dinner first, or Batman movie?"

"I'm still not super hungry," Peter answers.

"Alrighty. 'Batman Begins' and junk food. Got it."

Wade puts on the first movie while Peter arranges the goodies they bought from the bodega on the coffee table. They have Twizzlers Pull N Peel and rainbow Sour Punch straws, a bag of classic M&Ms, some Snickers bars, and those discount fruit wedges in both cherry and orange. Peter picked out a couple of original flavored Monsters while Wade bought an entire 2-liter of Mountain Dew Code Red. Wade doesn't bother to chill it or get a cup of ice to pour it over; he simply unscrews the top and drinks.

Peter raises one very judgmental eyebrow.

Wade burps. Loudly.

Peter's expression morphs into disgust, his button nose scrunching. Wade has to grab a Snickers bar from the table in order not to reach out and boop the tip of Peter's cute nose, and says, "Don't be a hypocrite, Kyle. I'm not the one who bought an energy drink consumed only by preteen gamers who rage quit and punch through drywall."

"Says the grown ass man downing room temperature Code Red," Peter snorts.

For the first five minutes of the movie, Wade and Peter are silent. Peter has a Twizzlers rope that he meticulously pulls apart and consumes, string by string, as he watches Bruce get beat up in some nameless, dirty prison. When Ra's al Ghul—disguised as Ducard—appears and offers a new path to fighting injustice, Peter quips, "Wow, that man's beard is sus as fuck."

Wade barks out a laugh.

"Also, League of Shadows?" Peter makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat. "What kind of good guy organization calls themselves 'The League of Shadows'? I call shenanigans."

Wade is delighted to learn that Peter is also a talker during movies; that he also prefers using subtitles; and that he doesn't mind when Wade occasionally pauses the movie to explain relevant tidbits of lore. However, this does mean that it takes them almost three hours to finish the first movie and—by the time Lieutenant Gordon has handed Batman the joker playing card, setting up the premise of the second movie—the sun has begun to set outside. The shadows in Wade's apartment have deepened and the room is cast in a warm shade of orange.

"Dinner?" Peter asks. He's finished one of the Monsters and the entire bag of Twizzlers Pull N Peel.

"I can put on the next movie for you while I start dinner," Wade offers.

"Nah, I'll keep you company." Peter stands up and stretches, rolling onto the balls of his feet and reaching upwards, the lithe lines of muscle invisible beneath the extra fabric of Wade's too big clothes. Wade can hear his spine crack. "Whatcha making?"

"Chicken piccata."

Wade learned the recipe over a decade ago, during one of his longer and more tedious missions. It had been his second year in special forces, a while before he got his scar, and he had been planted in some dinky apartment complex while he did intelligence gathering. The ancient grandmother who lived next door, Leora Di Meo, took an immediate shine to him and, over the course of four months, she became one of the most important people in his life. Leora taught him most of his Italian—the third language he learned to speak fluently, after his native English and then Congolese French—how to cheat at most card games, how to slow dance, and how to put love and care into a meal.

"Most nights it was me and Leora, sipping her homemade limoncello and playing Parcheesi while I sweated my balls off in the Mediterranean summer," Wade tells Peter as he places the floured chicken into the pan, letting it brown before flipping it. "Shit, that stuff was strong. I swear she used some illegally imported Russian spirits but I could never get a straight answer outta her."

"And this was one of the recipes she taught you?"

"One of many. I can even make my own pasta."

Leora made Wade cook with her every night he wasn't on stakeout. Before her, he could barely make a grilled cheese sandwich or fry an egg; after, he was making most sauces from scratch and had opinions on cooking wines. Leora's chicken piccata recipe was one of the last she taught him. When she shared it with him, she told Wade to be careful who he made it for, in case he ended up with an unexpected spouse.

"She said it was how she managed to snare the best looking man in her village, so I guess it's a good thing you're already married," Wade jokes as he splashes some wine in the stainless steel pan to deglaze it. "Otherwise you'd drag me to the courthouse first thing tomorrow."

Wade doesn't know why he says it. Maybe it's a stupid way to 'test the waters', even though Wade knows exactly what temperature the pool is and exactly why he shouldn't be in it. Or maybe it's a reminder to himself that, despite the ease of their closeness and the chicken piccata 'marry me' meal he's cooking, Peter isn't his. Will not be his. Regardless of what universe he is from, he belongs to his wife, MJ.

Same stupid fucking mantra you've been saying all fucking day, Wade thinks, irritated at himself. When's it gonna stick in your dumb head?

Briefly, Wade glances at Peter over his shoulder. Peter's gaze is directed away, his eyes unfocused as he stares at nothing. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip and his long, thin fingers twist his ring around, and around, and around. He looks... vaguely unsure.

Worried.

Upset.

And now you've reminded him that he believes that his wife is in another universe that he currently has no way of getting back to. Nice one, asshole.

Feeling like a tool, Wade turns back to the stove and scrapes the tasty brown bits off the bottom of the pan with a wooden spatula. He knows he shouldn't have pushed. Honestly, what was he expecting? This was supposed to be a fun, easy night for both of them before Wade started digging deeper into Peter's life and the lives of the people around him. Wade isn't supposed to dwell on the hopeless things he can't change. He's supposed to introduce Peter to Batman. Make Peter a good dinner. Make Peter smile and laugh and forget that he's technically trapped. Wade is disappointed that he hasn't been completely successful; when his head isn't up his own ass, being a distraction is his forte, considering how naturally loud and annoying he is.

Loud and annoying, Wade thinks. Now there's an idea.

Truthfully, Wade is not a great singer. He's tone deaf; he frequently sings too flat or too sharp; and his mediocre baritone doesn't have the range needed for opera. Despite this, he remains undeterred as he inhales deeply—

Tilts his head back—

And begins to bellow Figaro's aria from 'The Barber of Seville'.

As he finishes dinner, Wade dances and spins—his frilly apron emphasizing each movement—and gesticulates wildly as he la-la-las and Figaro-Figaro-Figaros. He makes up for his bad singing with flair and silliness, and by the time Wade sets a plate of food in front of Peter, the other man is in hysterics, his whole face red from laughter and cheeks tacky with tears.

"My singing made Leora cry too," Wade gripes, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Everyone's a critic."

But Wade's barely passable rendition of 'Largo al Factotum' has done what he intended, and the strange mood from earlier has dissipated. They sit side by side at the kitchen island, Peter scarfing down his sizable portion while Wade eats at a more sedate pace. Peter compliments Wade a half dozen times and—while Wade tries to shrug them off—it's been awhile since he's cooked for anyone but himself, and each compliment makes him warm.

After dinner, they return to the couch to watch 'The Dark Knight'. Peter makes a lot of sarcastic commentary, scoffing and rolling his eyes approximately every five minutes, and Wade has to pause once to use the bathroom, but they manage to finish the second movie by eleven. They take a small break, in which they both change into more comfortable clothes, and Wade pops a bag of popcorn in the microwave to mix up with their M&Ms. When they reconvene, Peter is mid-jaw-cracking yawn.

'The Dark Knight Rises' is Wade's personal favorite of the trilogy. The beginning always makes him laugh, as he did multiple extraction missions in his day, and none of them were as wonderfully over-contrived as the CIA operation depicted. He likes Bane's strange voice, Bruce's final adventure as Batman, and Anne Hathaway as Selena Kyle. Wade talks more during this film than he did for the first or second while Peter nods along, picking through the last of their candy. They get quieter and quieter as the end nears, engrossed by the fast pace of the ending, and are silent by the time Alfred sees Bruce and Selena together at the restaurant.

"Is that a thing?" Wade asks when the credits begin to roll. "Superhero retirement?"

For a moment, Peter says nothing. He just stares at the television screen, his face illuminated strangely by the artificial light. His expression is mostly blank: eyebrows loose, mouth slightly parted, jaw slack.

"Pete?" Wade says gently. He sits up a little and angles his body towards Peter's. One of his hands comes up to touch Peter but he stops, fingers hovering inches away from Peter's arm as he remembers that he's trying to maintain physical distance. "Baby boy?"

Peter looks at him and—with no warning—his face crumples and he begins to cry, huge tears spilling over his cheeks. Wade immediately turns to face Peter completely, his other hand coming up, though once again he stops inches from Peter's body. Wade has absolutely no idea why Peter is sad and he doesn't know what's wrong or how he can fix it, so he blurts:

"The ending wasn't that bad, was it?"

The joke is reflexive, as is the small laugh that bubbles out of Peter's mouth. It sounds awful. Strangled. It makes Peter's countenance twist into something raw and intense. More tears fall out of Peter's bright, glassy eyes and he scrubs at them with his hands, gasping, "Sorry, Wade—I just—"

Peter's words are choked by a sob. He tries to suck in a lungful of air but it just makes his shoulders shake and his ribs shudder.

"I'm sorry," Peter hiccups as his crying gets worse. He's covered his whole face with his hands to hide himself. "I'm sorry, I don't—please, it's not—it's not you or the movie or—I'm just—" He takes another one of those terrible, shaky breaths and whimpers, "Wade—"

Earlier that day, Wade told himself that he'd keep his hands off Peter. It wasn't right to keep acting like he had a chance when all evidence said otherwise. But right now, Wade doesn't know what to do, and Peter clearly has something he needs to get out.

"Sweetheart," Wade says, wrapping one hand around Peter's wrist. "Hey. Listen. I don't know what's wrong, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I think you need to let this out, whatever it is. So if you need space, I can go to my room and wait until you're ready, or... if you need someone to listen, I'm here. Whatever you need, okay?"

Wade doesn't know what he expected. Maybe for Peter to tell him to go, or maybe for Peter to say nothing as he continued to sob. He was certainly not expecting for Peter to let out a heart-breaking little wail, clamber into his lap, and wrap all his limbs around Wade's torso.

"Oh," Wade says as Peter buries his face into Wade's shoulder. "Hugs. Okay. I can do that."

Carefully, Wade places his hands on Peter's back. Earlier, Peter had changed into the same clothes he wore last night—Vanessa's old cropped hoodie and Wade's sweatpants—so Wade's palms meet the unobstructed expanse of Peter's naked back. Under any other circumstance, such a touch would make Wade's brain melt out one ear; under this circumstance, however, all Wade can worry about is if the rough calluses on his hands hurt Peter's smooth skin.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispers again.

"Don't be sorry," Wade murmurs. Tentatively, he runs a hand soothingly down the line of Peter's spine, each vertebrae a discernible bump beneath Wade's fingers.

"It's just..." Peter makes a small, distressed noise. His grip around Wade's torso gets a little tighter and he burrows into Wade even more. "I was trying so hard not to think about it."

"About what?"

Wade almost misses what Peter says next. Peter's face is still pressed against Wade's shoulder and his voice is so faint it barely reaches Wade's ear. But he hears it as Peter quietly says,

"What if I never make it back?"

The guilt that follows crushes Wade, a weight so huge it suffocates all the air out of Wade's lungs. The past twenty-four hours have been a chaotic rollercoaster for him, ranging from exciting and joyous to bitter and terrifying, and not once—not even fucking once—has he stopped to consider how it must be for Peter. Regardless of his true origins, Peter believes that he's from another universe, and their adventures today have shown that it will be difficult for him to get back home. Impossible, even. Sure, they could go to Boston tomorrow and talk to Richards, but such a trip would likely be pointless.

"Fuck," Wade hisses, resting his cheek on Peter's curls and tightening his own arms around Peter's smaller body. They're completely entwined, clinging to one another, and it's so far from the closeness Wade wanted that he wants to cry too. He squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can so the tears don't escape. "Peter—I'm sorry, I didn't even think—"

"It's not your fault," Peter says softly.

But it is. It is very much Wade's fault. He might not be the reason Peter has special spider-adjacent super powers, and he doesn't know why Peter broke into his apartment, but he is responsible for Peter's distress. He has been so enamored of Peter—from the way Peter looked to the way Peter treated him—that Wade hasn't considered how Peter must feel being separated from everything he knows and everyone he loves or what it must be like to meet dead end after dead end. He told himself that he would be the person Peter thought he was—kind and good and deserving of such absolute faith—but he's been nothing but a self-serving piece of shit since Peter took off his mask and smiled at him.

"We'll figure this out," Wade promises Peter. "It doesn't matter how long it takes. It doesn't matter what we have to do. I swear that one way or another, I'll keep you safe and I'll get you back to where you belong. Okay?"

Such a vow is insane even for Wade, who tends towards irrational behavior and frequently throws himself head first into situations without considering the consequences. But by coincidence or unknown circumstance, Peter has dropped into his life and become ineffably important to him, and Wade means every word down to his bones. He's only known Peter for a day, but he knows he will do anything and everything he can to make sure Peter gets home, no matter what 'home' ends up being.

"Okay," Peter says, his voice still trembling. "I trust you."

Peter stays tucked beneath Wade's chin after his crying has faded, long enough for the television to switch from the movie's title screen to muted screensaver. Wade watches as it shifts through various high definition landscapes—deserts, oceans, mountains—before it goes black and the comforting darkness of the apartment folds over them. At some point, Peter has fallen asleep, and he is loose and warm in Wade's arms. It would be so easy to lie back on the couch, pull Peter atop him, and close his eyes, even if Peter's bony body digs into his in uncomfortable ways. A small part of him still desperately wants that, but the rest of him is weighed down by guilt. He can't take advantage of Peter more than he already has.

Exhausted from the long day and the emotional upheaval, Peter barely stirs as Wade stands, one arm looped beneath Peter's butt and the other around Peter's back. He's heavier than he looks—his super strength likely derived from more compact and denser muscle fibers—but Wade moves him around easily enough, laying Peter back down on the couch cushions and tucking him in. Peter burrows deeper into the comforter and noses into the pillow. Some of his dark curls fall across his forehead and cheek, unconsciously begging to be tucked back behind his ear. Wade squeezes his hands into white-knuckled fists to stop himself from doing as they ask.

"Good night, sweetheart," Wade whispers. Then, again, "I'm sorry."

But Peter—already fast asleep—does not hear him.

.

next → : Part 9

.

[justaquickquestion]

I haven't fact-checked the screenshots here but i wanna address the above comment There was deliberate misinformation going around about nerualink testing being done on nonhuman primates (monkeys) a few months ago. It was probably put out by animal rights activists of some sort, with claims of mass numbers of animal deaths which masqueraded as satire. The only public information i found which was truthful and relevant was that Musk (or his foundation/whatever) had a lab at a primate research center in California which had purchased ... what, 26 monkeys? And that's a large number, for an experiment with nonhuman primates as human models. (Tbh i think the only news was that they were authorized to purchase as many as that.) I don't remember seeing confirmation that the animals had died; however, federal laws are very strict about the number of surgical procedures an animal can go through in their life in a laboratory, and after a skull implant there aren't many more studies the animal can undergo. A study like this may have also been designed as a terminal study - that is, to get the data to prove how neuralink is affecting the brain they may have needed to dissect the brains. (I don't know why they would need to do this, and i'm 100% speculating, and nothing could make me trust this product anyway. I'm not defending it here.) Talking about medical research on nonhuman primates (monkeys) is an unhappy thing for most people, but there are many medical advances that are impossible without these animals. There are hundreds of people dedicated to the animals' welfare and wellbeing, massive amounts of legislation and oversight to limit and minimize their suffering. I'll reiterate that i don't trust anything associated with Elon Musk and he's too much in our brains already. I fully expect that there's shady shit going on with anything he puts his name on. But we should all be suspicious of articles claiming that, in the US or EU at least, a laboratory acquired more than two dozen monkeys at one time AND the experiment protocol killed all of them because the protocol failed. Colloquially, nobody gets that many monkeys.

Not a single monkey survived the Neuralink experiment. I’ll bet Elmo can’t wait to start torturing and murdering human beings with this.

[wyverndragonborn]

My personal review of Sea Of Solitude

I really don't review games very often, and this is the first time I've done so completely unprompted (This review will likely contain spoilers). I played this game on Switch, in English. Everything from the scenery to the controls to the voice acting was perfect. I'm an absolute sucker for collectibles, so the bottled messages and seagulls definitely added something for me. Along with that, the messages added to the story itself, the background of the character we play. The narrative is powerful and emotional, and it really hit close to home for me. It's not often that a game makes me cry but this one managed it multiple times throughout.

(Note I'm adding part way through writing the next part- I am really trying to make this good but my brain is deciding to be a little robot monkey playing cymbals instead of working :/ apologies if part of this is mid)

(This is turning into more of a summary than a review-)

[Spoilers start here, it's up to you whether you read past this but initially not knowing added a lot for me tbh. I got this game just because it looked neat and I felt I would like it.]

I loved that I didn't know right away what was going on. In most games I prefer to know what I'm doing but this just felt right. A journey that I'm stumbling through until I get my bearings. My favorite part of the first level is definitely the school. You get to know what your brother is feeling, and, for me at least, it makes you angry. You have to help him. The entire time you're trying to get to him you hear the words the bullies flung at him and it pushes you forward. And next to that is guilt. Getting to know through the storyline that you let this happen without even knowing it.

Part of what hit so close to home is that I myself am an older sibling with parents who can't stand each other anymore- and I've felt the guilt that this game tackles at points. The idea that if it wasn't for me, they could have left each other whenever they wanted. There was a rift between the mother and father characters in this game. They couldn't communicate, the father was so focused on getting enough money to keep his family happy that he couldn't see how unhappy they were. The mother was exhausted and lonely, and couldn't even speak to him about it without him being upset (going off of in-game dialog). They were both tired. They didn't know what to do. They just turned it into anger.

You end up in the same position as the character's mother. Walking on eggshells with someone you're supposed to love. And you just keep trying to help them. You keep trying to tell yourself everything is fine. Telling yourself that you're the problem.

One thing I knew I wanted to mention in this is how it starts to feel at a point. I'm not great with numbers or keeping track of what chapter I'm on though. You start to feel tired, emotionally, from helping the people you knew. And I don't mean that in a bad way at all. It feels right for the topic. You have done so much to try and help, but you can't join the people you've helped. You're still separated. And you start to wonder if your fear, that horrible monster that blocks your path, is right. Maybe you can't fix it all. Maybe it's pointless. But you continue on anyway.

Ultimately, you need to help yourself.

Over all, I cannot overstate how much I love this game. I can definitely see myself replaying it, which isn't something I usually do for games without a lot of endings. I would recommend it to anyone who likes emotional narratives, exploration, and games with monsters. Absolute 10/10. End of the game was spoiled a bit by my brother who can't take anything seriously though, so best played alone or in serious company.

[the-midnight-in-me]

Started sobbing over an episode of nightmare kitchen last night and realized "oh, that's probably why my body hurts more than normal as well" The cycle continues to shorten.... If this is now the norm, I have dropped about 4 days in the span of a year. Could be other reasons but I guess it's not super rare for perimenopause to start in the late 30s. 24 days is hardly considered a "short" cycle but it used to be 28 nearly on the dot except in a couple of cases where stress caused me to skip entire months (usually army stuff lol--not that I'm complaining about not having to deal with my period at all during my 2 months at basic combat training!)

My body just feels uncomfortable and unhappy all around, lately. I think I need to seriously consider getting back into consistent work outs, even if it's just more walking to start with. And I need to find a healthier outlet than emotional eating when work gets stressful...which is literally ALL THE TIME. I'm sure my body would appreciate more vegetables and proteins and less pizza/chocolate/pastry/sugar/etc, regardless of what my monkey brain (I should give them a name lol) wants to grab for that easy dopamine hit. x_x idk y'all, I can FEEL it when I haven't eaten something green for too long. I must be getting old.

[skinyogurt]

yeah the process of change sucks and is stressful for everybody involved and a lot of people (understandably) do not enjoy radical change. in our little monkey brains change is perceived as a threat that could potentially endanger us. i get it. but could you imagine how boring and miserable everything would be without change? how much it would fucking suck if—as a species—we were still hunting and gathering for our food, or if we still lived in medieval villages infested with plague, or if slavery was still common practice? change is the best possible thing that can happen to a society, because it’s a sign of growth. our current way of doing things just isn’t cutting it so we need to make it better somehow. a lot of people are unhappy so we’re making the world happier. change is good—it means we’re growing and improving and making the world a better place to live in.

[teashadephoenix]

I was tasked with a Very Boring Job at the grocery store when I worked there briefly earlier this year. I was to stand at the entrance and greet people as they came in, annnnnd I was Done(TM) an hour in.

I started begging my supervisors to please put me anywhere else, let me clean, let me stock, let me ring people out, anything. Anything but STAND THERE. I wasn’t allowed to sit down. I wasn’t allowed a pen and paper to draw or write, I wasn’t allowed anything to keep my hands or brain occupied. I was just supposed to engage with the customers. But nobody wants to engage with someone right as they enter the store to do the weekly shop, that’s what the cashier is for, at the end. So people were just walking by me. I was standing there with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

Despite my pleas, I was told no. No, this was where I had been placed, and I had to do it. For five hours.

Which was pretty much the tipping point of my sanity, tbh. By hour three I was so bored my brain had begun eating itself. I was overstimulated and overwhelmed by my brain trying desperately to regulate itself and failing. I felt like my skin was being sandpapered, sounds were too loud, the lights were too bright. I was nearly in tears. (I think I actually did start crying in the last half hour of the shift.)

I was Not Well the next day. I was run-down and grumpy. I remember asking the shift supervisor if “I had to fucking stand there again today” and upon being told that yes, I had the same shift again, i had like a mindbreak moment. I spent the next three hours contemplating career suicide and just walking out of my sole source of income. The last two hours I spent desperately trying to suppress my crying, and contemplating actual suicide.

That was the day I decided I needed a new job. Because if an employee is literally begging their managers to swap tasks because it is damaging to their immediate mental health and they don’t take that seriously, then that is not a company I want to work for.

(I’d also like to point out that I was later called into the office to get my ass reamed out by a manager and the GM. Because a customer had overheard me ask “if i had to fucking stand there” and the GM was apoplectic that I had not been the Happy Dancing Monkey for the customers. I should be Happy to be here, and customers should never be allowed to see or know that I am unhappy to be at work. And swearing in front of a customer? Banishment. How dare I sully the ears of some nice old white lady that I didn’t even know was standing right behind me as I whispered an F-bomb under my breath to my shift. But he wanted to fire me right then and there. The only reason I didnt unload on his ass that I had been denied reasonable accommodations and that was why I was not operating at my best was because I had already decided I was going to leave anyway and I needed to hang onto the job until I found a new one.)

adhd is so embarrassing ur basically like “I have to have fun right the fuck now or I’m throwing myself off the roof” 90% of the time and you also have very little control over this

[anvoo]

Morning of 21.04.2023

I need to hydrate better. Getting headaches and swollen face in the morning, and my mouth is also really dry.

Mood-wise, probably a 5/10, so 0.5 up from yesterday! I feel like yesterday was a sense of hopelessness, but today is probably more of a flare-up of my insecurities and emotional needs. They all kind of makes me not-want-to-do-anything, which is exactly where my procrastination monkey thrives.

I felt anxious and afraid, and also a sense of loss. A part of me doesn't want to let go of the idea of wanting a romantic relationship with Cat. I know for myself that a romantic relationship with Cat right now would only make me unhappier, and it doesn't align with my goals at all. The distance, her lifestyle and character traits that I don't fancy much would suddenly become my problem, and it makes it difficult for me to explore my own life, interests, and hobbies, and probably would throw me right back where I started a few months from now. Our potential (and pretty likely) differences would make a romantic relationship between me and her unfulfilling and not lasting. But my instant gratification monkey doesn't care about any of these things. It only cares about what's happening "now", what's "fun and immediately rewarding", and "not doing things that don't offer instant gratification". The cheeky little bastard is a smart asshole, just like me sometimes xD It wants that instant gratification and validation from her that my brain got so used to before; It wants me to forget all about my problems and worries, but at the same time also all my goals and purposes; it wants me to just not do anything at all, and just pass time. In terms of intelligence, the monkey and my "rational decision-maker", are roughly the same. What separates them, is willpower. For the longest time, the monkey's been the alpha dog, controlling the steering wheel in my head, but recently the "rational decision-maker" has had enough and is pissed, so he's pushing the monkey off and regaining control. The RDM knows that what I really want isn't a romantic relationship with Cat, but a means to fill my emotional needs and tackle my insecurities. He's turning the wheel, so that I would face those insecurities and problems head-on, and solve their roots, instead of running away and finding band-aid solutions.

I "know" a lot of these things about myself, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still going to be hard. Feelings, moods, and emotions are like the rain; it just comes, no matter how hard I think about it or how much I know myself. I can't change the fact that it's raining, but I can control my reaction to it. I'm staying awake and aware of the monkey and its tricks, and having the RDM steer the wheel.

Faith in myself, and faith in the process.

I've been really getting into this specific tile-matching game on the NYTimes App. Usually, I play 1-2 rounds of matching tiles to similar-looking ones, and it's been surprisingly fun. Teaches me a bit to be more careful and observant, and it's a good brain practice right in the morning after I read the news briefing.

Good day, and talk to you later in the evening!