#or I get triggered in public and I try so hard not to lose myself and start drama in public but I just can’t

[kavehayati]

Man I just give up.

[makemeadoll]

✨Files Shared with Me!✨

I've been trying all videos sent to me by the friendly people of Tumblrville! 💖

I thought it might be a good idea to share them here so I don't lose them and also to help others find awesome stuff 💕

I'll be updating this list with files shared and also found by myself slow and steady, so we can all enjoy and share our thoughts! (Or mindless babbles hehe) #hypno files

I will mention those who shared or produced the files only if they explicitly share them on their blogs, or ask me to mention them privately (because privacy is now an important thing and we must play fair! ✨)

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Lovely Anon #2:

You Are Blank - Hypnosis Experience

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Simply amazing! So soothing, and it does only what it says. It makes you BLANK. I don't even know if I was asleep or traveled to another dimension hehe

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Lovely Anon #1:

Compliance Loop 2.0

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️½

Not a fan of B.S. and this one uses triggers from it. I felt good and it never mentions her, but it talks about "feeling like a bad girl" and I'm not into being punished, so of course I don't want my own mind making me feel bad for not doing something i'm not comfortable with.

Here to Obey - Miss Trancy

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️½

It gave me the chills a little bit because I want to stay away from the B.S. world and this one sounded like those files right away, but I think it's fine. She's never mentioned in it.

30 Minute Mind Control Marathon: Can You Survive It?

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lovely but is meant to be listened while sitting down and I like laying down more so I couldn't follow a part of the video the first time.

Brainwashing Training Loop

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I found this one on their blog. SO good! Well, it's just a lot of mantras we see all around hypno stuff... and it gets the job done! Got me so floaty and easy to drop after 😵‍💫 (listened while writing this, and after it stopped I still heard it in my head until I noticed I had closed it already!)

Daily Trance Loop

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

OMG so soothing, so lovely, so simple and well made! Nothing complicated only listen and let mind be blank! 💖

Hypnosis: TRANCE TOY TRAINING

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Caught my attention, dropped me so hard, I followed along mindlessly and the trigger made me almost burst! No words. Fav. 💖✨

[M4A] Pretty Doll in Bliss [Dollification] [IQ Reduction] [Obedience Training] [Mind Blanking] [Subliminals] [Binaural] [Mind Fuck] [Hypnosis] [Triggers] [Arousal]

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️½

I liked it and I felt so good! Reinforcing my good doll triggers (even writing it got me hehe). I just don't like that it associates being doll with being stupid... 💔

Surrender

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️½

Umm Tiffa struggled with the theme because it's all about slavery and I'm not a slave I'm a doll, but if you're into that the file is lovely and I was drippy and relaxed and heavy and obedient hehe, I just couldn't remember the new mantras cause I'm not a slave and they're very specific

Hypnosis: Spiral Pocket

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm almost sure these files are Bambi files with "Bambi" swapped to "Toy" and also has themes of slavery in the background. The more my mind notices it the less they work on me. I couldn't even finish this one 🥺 but if you're into it, go ahead! 💕

Hypnosis, Binaural Beats, Subliminal Affirmations: Pleasure Slave Reinforcement

• Makemeadoll Rating: 🥺

Umm I cannot add a review because Doll is scared of slave files cause I am a doll not a slave hehe, but I'm sure it's great! I trust him a lot and gives me awesome files 🥰 Maybe try it and tell me what rating to give it by the public!

Doll Transformation Hypnosis (RAGDOLL///FREEZE///COMMADS)

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Nice video! Thought I wasn't deep but then realized I really was! Hehe. It asks you to get up and pose and move and change outfit and comment and stuff so be prepared being seated and in your room hehe.

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@secretlytranced 💖:

Rain and Relaxing Wetness ;)

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

She's lovely and amazing and she shares these files all made by herself on her blog. This one got me to mindlessly play with my tits while working 🤭

Be a Good Girl

• Makemeadoll Rating:

Homework 🤭

Sumbission

• Makemeadoll Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Makes me sooo suggestible and it gets lost sooo good as background noise that now when it rains I remember the conditioning thinking it's playing 💕

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Me!:

Mistress Calia's Click Trigger Erotic Hypnosis [F4A]

• Makemeadoll Rating ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Makes me feel good and it's the first file I found and listened to and it made me have a crazy hypno dream and basically started my journey with files 💖

[F4A] A New Video by Your Favorite Hypno YouTuber: Obedience Training [Hypnosis] [Brainwashing] [ASMR]

• Makemeadoll Rating ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (+?)

I listened to this with a LOT of background noise, but I still managed to focus and suddenly I was out like a light. It's about "choosing" to become obedient, and even though I didn't like that much the way she spoke, I confess it WORKED.

{{Hypnosis}} Good Girl Trigger [Hypnosis] [Trigger] [Effects] [File For Females] [Obedient Effect]

• Makemeadoll Rating ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I think this one is very effective, but doesn't feel like it will be hehe. It's a hidden gem :)

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(There are more but I need to find them again first ☝️)

[mieczyhale]

Stemming from this post, i'm going to go through the lyrics and try to explain my thinking a little more in depth (not every single line applies so i'm sticking to the ones that.. stuck out to my brain)

I am not putting this under a readmore because.. i don't really want to. So. Sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I am alone again / An island separates me from my home and then you pull me closer

Bucky is alone, or feels alone at least. Getting lost in his head, dissociating and/or daydreaming. He's right there with Steve but so far away at the same time. And the Steve pulls him closer, gets his attention, pulls Bucky back home from wherever his mind went

If the sentence is right / Why does my body interfere? / Like a thief in the night / To steal the stars when they appear / No constellations guide me here / A voice inside me screaming

The sentence being right could be in reference to a literal sentence said by Steve. Maybe it's something sweet, maybe it's something dirty, maybe it's something that pulls at reminders of Before Hydra, maybe it triggers something about his time with Hydra. Whatever it is, Bucky hears it and maybe he freezes.

Maybe it's something he's heard before and not reacted to, but now he's hearing it in a different headspace and it gets to him and he doesn't know why. Something about the words steals the joy of the moment, the light - the stars, something has taken the stars and Bucky doesn't know what it was or why. They were perfectly normal words... right?? If it is related to Hydra the voice inside him screaming could be the part of the Winter Soldier that's left, that Bucky will have for the rest of his life.

It could also be a reference to nightmares, getting lost in the dark of them and not being able to find his way out

Ride the wave like a message in a bottle / For the only words I ever wanna hear / I will wait with the syllables I swallow / Bitter taste until they disappear

For Bucky, riding the wave like a message in a bottle could be just.. hanging the fuck on. A message - a piece of paper - in a glass bottle - so breakable - being tossed about the ocean - something violent and unstoppable that the message cannot fight on its own, but with the bottles help it just might make it somewhere safe. The swallowed syllables work in two ways I think::

1. Bucky, post Winter Soldier, having a hard time piecing words together, a harder time speaking as he gets himself back together. And then overtime, even though it gets better, for awhile he isn't sure what he can say / should say. Especially when people want to pick apart everything he says so they can judge him. And it's bitter because now that he finally is able to talk and he is able to express himself, he still can't entirely because of public opinion. 2. Early on in the torture he endured to become the Winter Soldier you can imagine he'd be punished for speaking, especially for saying anything that made him sound human, made him sound like he had his own thoughts. So eventually, slowly, he stops saying anything - he has the words and he keeps them inside. Not long after he stops talking back, the words he kept inside slowly disappear until there's nothing left. Maybe at one point he has a moment of fuzzy awareness and he knows he's forgetting things, he can feel himself losing himself, but he can't do anything about it. He can't say anything about it. Even if he wanted to. He should want to. But he doesn't. The person that was angry, cocky, bitter, doesn't exist anymore and neither do his words.

I try to tell myself those words are for someone else / A delusion, I feel so clear / My heart corrodes itself / A vessel I can't compel / To break open when you pull me near

So the bit of this section that really grabbed my attention for Bucky was the visual of a delusion so clear. I imagine, at some nebulous point in his time as the Winter Soldier - more often before they've really conditioned him - Bucky's mind would try to help him hang on by providing a world where Steve is there. Where they're safe and together as they should've been the whole time. Logically Bucky knows it's not real, but he can picture it so clearly. The way Steve looks. The things Steve would say. Bucky imagines entire conversations during the days he still has words.

After he's been tortured beyond hell and his awareness is gone, there could still be bits and pieces that come through as dreams or nightmares that he doesn't know are dreams and nightmares. Or when he's awake he could get brief flashes of things he doesn't understand: an angry scrawny little boy, a scared blond man, a hand grabbing his and pulling him to safety, etc.

Fast-forward to any time, some time, post Civil War where Steve and Bucky are finally reunited for good and Bucky is trying to deal with... everything. And Steve is right there beside him doing his best to help. (therapy is off the table because a. i said so, b. how well was that done in-canon, c. who the fuck is going to be able to understand anything Bucky has gone through at all?? and beyond that: who is going to understand AND care and love at the same time, the way that Bucky needs to feel safe?? a random therapist isn't going to care about Bucky as a person. not really. if you disagree go argue with a wall lmao)

ANYWAY. Bucky is trying to handle the weight of his entire past at this point, with the things he remembers and the things he knows he should remember, the things he doesn't know he forgot but something feels.. missing. And Steve is solid beside him the entire time. There isn't much he can do to help, but he can provide comfort and support and reassurances. Bucky wants to accept it all, he wants to believe the nice things Steve says, the loving things he says as he holds him close in the nest of blankets that is their bed, but he can't seem to. Especially when he feels he isn't giving much, if anything, for Steve to work with. How can Steve say all these things when Bucky can't even tell him what happened in any sort of detail??

That's the corroding heart - a broken heart, not necessarily broken by love but by time - and the vessel - his heart, maybe, but also his mind - that won't "break open", won't accept / is having trouble accepting anything good despite how badly Bucky wants to.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

This song and analysis obviously don't get too far into Bucky's recovery, and certainly not to anything close to the end of it, but it's not supposed to be. It's a song of hurt and helplessness but some kind of hope, something that has you holding on. Which I think fits Bucky and his story quite a bit.

I don't think I actually covered everything I was thinking, and feeling, but I got a lot - or most - of it out and that's better than nothing I guess

Anyway, feel free to reblog and share your thoughts. I might do this with other songs, for Bucky and other characters, if anyone is interested

[evalainshadow]

Two Doves

I can't choose my font when I'm typing on desktop?

Anyway.

I saw a male dove courting a female, these two have been doing everything together this season. There was a squirrel, a symbol of the balance of work and play, and the doves flew off. The male flew the furthest while the female flew to the next tree and watched the squirrel. They both went back after the squirrel left. Then he started courting her again and it was the cutest thing. She flew off, but he flew off in her direction after a brief pause.

I find all of this to be very symbolic and I think the universe is relating them to things in my life to try to tell me something.

Also, the extreme wokists did a number on free speech in the way that I don't feel comfortable even saying all this out of fear that I'll be sent to a psych ward. Cancel culture was not ok.

i'm not sure what the universe is trying to tell me yet, but I do know that I have a hard time balancing work and play on a day to day basis, but on a weekly/monthly basis the balance is there. I've had a hard time getting back to work because of numerous set backs but I know when my body needs a break too so I don't overwork. And the doves symbolize hope, which I think says a lot about how my feelings about work and play can contrast each other. When play is needed, I start to lose hope but I stay close to the idea of hope. When play is not needed and I'm on a work grind, I at least feel better but its a dissociated push to a goal. What do I need to do to bring the balance back to work? I never lost my playful side, it just gets smothered sometimes when I don't feel good or right about the work I'm doing.

What are my struggles with work?

Honestly, public opinion and how it triggers me. Some of those comments can cut deep. They hurt my feelings the most when I'm having the most fun and someone comes in to crash the party. Like, what did I do?? lol. It reinforces the idea that you can't have too good of something or someone will come along and ruin it. I don't think people realize what that does to someone who is trying to heal from childhood trauma, and I don't really expect them to but the comments that I'm talking about are outside of societal expectations regardless.

Like when I'm webcamming, I'm pretty open to a lot but my boundary is I will not hurt myself on camera. When I'm livestreaming, it's open dialogue until it gets super judgemental and mean. But the gray area in between my favorite moments and least favorite moments is where I find a drag in motivation, because the darker the gray area the harder it is for me to face the possibility of that happening again after getting triggered. Some of the gray area would be considered the least favorite by some, but unfortunately I've had some pretty bad experiences lol and thankfully most people haven't had to deal with those. It goes beyond the "don't care what people think" idea of handling it, so why don't I tap out of the situation earlier? lol because I don't have a warning for when it's going to happen. I don't have a way to block phrases like that and to be honest, they probably play the comment system until they make the exact word choice that gets through. Like why are people so quick to blame the victim that's trying to heal? Or are the dismissive thinking "how can their words affect you that much"? Like we don't all have to agree, but I really hate the way the extreme wokists took some serious things and made a mockery of it (which is what bullies do by the way) and now I can't say "I'm triggered" without being called a snowflake. Don't even get me started on what they did to the mental health and lgbtq+ community. But this is not a "snowflake" situation. There is some serious hate and cruelty out there and at least I have the balls to try again even after seeing that.

It's kind of like when I was in a particular area where junkies filled the streets and I was staying at a rest stop where there was no one there at night to watch the place. There was some serious shit that went down there sometimes. I was minding my business so hard, one of my friends came to see me and was not understanding of how I was dealing with that environment because of how dark and crazy it was. I was like what do you mean? lol because none of it directly affected me. However, there were some things that triggered me there too. Have you ever seen someone beg with their eyes? That always hits me hard when I can't do anything to help them, even knowing they desperately need help. I think hitting my rock bottom was realizing everyone has a rock bottom like this and we learn that we can all rise again on our own two feet so it's ok to not help them. It's not on us to make sure everyone we come across is saved because we are all given the same power of being able to pull out of situations independently. I found a lot of peace from that new perspective.

This has been a long rant but I kinda needed to get that out lol. I am seriously tired of being mocked for the work I do, and I'm seriously tired of people shitting on my parade. I'm not hurting anyone. And my bills are no ones business anyway! lol!!

[grison-in-space]

Okay, so: I've mentioned that I have service oriented tasks in mind for Matilda, but I haven't actually talked a bunch about what I'm aiming for. In part this is because one of the biggest things I would find supportive doesn't seem to be a Thing at the moment.

Generally speaking, I need an executive function support dog. I think I can make this happen without overtaxing my dog, but I'm getting stuck thinking about what I want to teach and how to chain it, so I'm going to think out loud for a minute.

So: autism, ADHD, constant masking, and an objectively stressful ten years in Texas (fire! flood! school stabbing! literal abandonment! we have them all!) has left me with some burnout problems. I dissociate a lot and I need to figure out how to train that as an alert, but especially in the evenings I tend to get stuck. Most of my coping techniques relied on either stores of energy I largely just don't have or on anxiety over consequences to serve as a motivator. While I can still do my job pretty well (thanks, hyperfocus!), I miss a lot of care opportunities (things like: consume lunch. Drink liquids. Take afternoon meds). And I can tune out anything at this point.

I have found that there's a distinct sensory component to this, though: visual and especially tactile stimuli work way better than auditory ones. It's just that there isn't really anything that can do a mix like that right now. I've rigged some things to help but it's not ideal, and I've passively/accidentally trained every previous dog I've had to sit outside flailing distance and subvocalize until I get up anyway; surely it should be possible to teach a dog to help with this. Say, by progressing from a touch or lick to a nose punch to crawling into my lap to lick my face on a timed cue.

By the way, friends, you lose shit in burnout. Learn from my mistakes; try to mask less, fuck. I have a lot of grief I'm still processing over things I did ten or fifteen years ago that I can't do today; my capacity is just so much lower than it used to be. I am on an upswing--the move helped a lot, just getting away from Texas, and the new job environment has been helpful, and so have some med adjustments... but I'm not as fast or as hard driving as I used to be, and there are some things I won't get back.

Anyway. Plans. Public access groundwork is actually not worrying me too badly at this stage: we're working on dog reactivity, foundations, and settling, and she sees enough weird places I'm not too concerned about now. But it's the tasking pieces I'm hung up on. I have thoughts, at least, for the dissociation alerts and grounding part of the problem: I know how I hold myself and how I don't move in certain ways when I'm dissociated, and "touch" shaped into licking my hand or nudging me is something I can use for that.

But what would be really helpful is setting alerts for Tilly to go into Pester Mode on a timer. I think I can use a phone timer for this, probably, although I would really like it if I could make Gcal notifications work as a cue to set timers to. I can use "human stands up" as my stop cue for the behavior, and the start cue is of course the timer itself. Once summoned by the timer, I know what I would like her to do.

I'm just sort of stuck on how to go about starting this. I do not want to invoke Pester Mode without the timer, and I would ideally like Pester Mode to be reliably turned off if I stand up. I do not want to trigger Pester Mode for anyone but me. I can think of like half a dozen ways this task could go hideously wrong.

It's just that it would be so helpful if I could program a bunch of very specific reminders based on my Gcal schedule and then have a stubborn little dog break any hyperfocus and help me transition into a new behavior at those periods. Unfortunately, now that Matilda is old enough to begin thinking about beginning to shape the beginnings of this, I find myself stuck. What would you do, dogblr?

[sindumpster]

Any unbirth thoughts or ideas that appeal to you? Just in general. I currently have an ub-session and love your ub stuff. 💗

"ub-session" made me snort. I love it.

But hokey I'm gonna jot some things down so sorry if this ends up more of a jumble of words than anything. Also obviously this one is gonna be hella nsfw

-Ngl a lot of my go-tos with it involve the UB being orgasm-triggered. Because something something vaginal contractions which idk if I likened that to peristalsis or if someone else inserted that into my brain. It been...a while since I refreshed my sex bio. But if cocks can eat people then I can grasp at my straws and pretend it triggers the vaginal succ-tion.

-...which would also make sense if the pred(?) is a biiiit of a size queen. A dicking devolves to fisting. Could just be the fisting that triggers the succ. Also my humor is dumb so I like it when the other char is marveling over how far their arm can sink in. Mentioning its getting harder to pull back. Oblivious to all the warning signs before its too late.

-tho I will also die on my hill of pushy prey so someone actively being like my arm has gone past the elbow and this *still* isn't working. I guess I will just push myself in there. Because also, my humor is broken so this being the first most obvious solution the prey thinks of is hilarious to me. Post nut clarity is gonna hit hard (or they like it. Or it was the plan all along because they're a kinky fuck)

-forreal tho prey that's a kinky fuck. Realizing how stretchy the pred is and want to try it. Or has done it before. Just taking the initiative.

-I'm realizing a lot of these are about my broken humor so I will also raise you--pregnancy jokes. Because I like them with vore and other situations where the char isn't pregnant but will just go along with it because it is the easier explanation (and like, I say this as someone with a preg kink. The joke just doesn't hit the same when its actual preg tho lmao). Also UB being extra prone to this because the prey is sitting in the right place (as opposed to oral vore where stomach sits higher up. As if people would notice this and care but I will also die on my stupid detail hill)

-but also I'm a sucker for combo kinks and also I like my separation of different stuffed...organs? Compartmentalization kink? as in life so in kink IDK point is UB pred following it up with a stuffing session. Or oral vores someone (esp if they are not a fan of preg jokes). There's a bit of a power play there if the pred's like "well what are you gonna do about it~". Prey getting increasingly cramped or complaining about the growing weight above them. Or feeling each other's struggles. Two different prey poking at each other through the fleshy walls. I just think it's neat.

-also orgasm being a release valve as well. Because you can fuck (or fist) someone from the inside (There's a "cum out" joke here somewhere).

-Which could also be a power play on the prey's part. Or throw in some public humiliation where prey tries to pleasure the pred in public, and the pred must hide how flustered it is making them. They don't need to come out from it, they can just fuck with (literally) the pred.

-I like competitions of any sort but I do not care who wins. Even my bois I equally enjoy them losing to clever prey (or a pyrrhic victory). Or just kinky fuck prey. This isn't specifically a UB thing but for me it applies just as well. Could also be funny if this devolved from some kind of stupid sex contest. The "whoever cums first loses" where prey gets increasingly desperate to win and this results in them shoving themselves up there.

-also I like the "getting your hand stuck in the cookie jar" joke.

-MULTIPLE PREY. Because why the fuck not. Uterus party guys everyone is invited. Or smol prey if a large tum isn't your jam (but I am biased. Sorry. Not sorry.)

-MASC PREDS. MASC UB. NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE REALIZE THIS POTENTIAL JOIN ME OR POINT ME TO THE ART.

-which I like it doesn't have to be a sex thing but the "motherhood" or "age regression" sides of the kink aren't my niche so sex is usually how I go. It can be peril or even fatal, or warm wholesome safe vibes. I like both. And should go without saying but even the kinkiest sex can be wholesome.

-tho also the impressive side-eye in the afterlife when you admit you got digested by a snatch. Went out with a bang. Got your dick stuck in a living vacuum cleaner. This isn't really an idea.

-ALSO REFORMING PREY. If fatal is your jam. Idk man I'm still working out the kinks(lol) of how the fatal pussy would work without getting into the dark details of any internal pred/prey kinks where digestion is actually the least of your problems. Except my Space!AU where everything can be a stomach if you're brave enough. Alien anatomy you can do whatever the fuck you want so that's where my wackiest kink mechanics go. (Because I'm still working on this notion that I am "realistic" and will not break these stupid rules I made up in normal canon for some reason??).

-Tho I guess with reform you can have your "rebirthing" stuff. (Personally with the caveat they reform as an adult. I don't mind preg or even warm cozy vibes but again...parenthood loses me sorry. But feel free to use it lol)

-Oh and also face-sitting [GONE WRONG][GONE SEXUAL]

-Or I guess if you're really into dicks eating people can have a CV pred fuck a UB pred and the prey just gets kinda shot up there.

///and I'm sure there's a fuckton of things I'm forgetting. But this is already way longer than I intended lmao

[cherieye]

A friend I considered a close friend for 7 years has said some Red flag things to me the last couple months and the recent one was telling me I'm poor because I hang around only poor people (which isn't true) and their is no way my family has any wealth, because if they did, I wouldn't be struggling financially....

Was baffled that she would automatically assume such a thing and wouldn't believe me when I told her," I have a lot siblings that are actually doing quite well and my parents are no way poor. I'm poor because I am on disability assistance through the gov and it's risky to work at all, due losing my benifits and psychosis triggers." Which I honestly believe she thinks is me making excuses.

She has never been to the US and even tells me I'm not very brave because I'm not willing to walk on the freeways to find a job in my area 😳 ....anyone in the US knows, you are out of mind for walking or riding your bike on American freeways and let's not get into public transportation, especially as a woman. Well apparently since I'm not willing to do that, I'm not ....brave or tough.

......

We have collaborated a lot creatively, but has said so much these last few months that just makes me feel like she isn't a safe individual to be close friends with anymore. I feel like majority of the time I feel like I need to explain myself to only get gaslit.

I have heard her say people are so stupid for wanting people wanting gay roles to be played by gay actors, cuz than it's not acting then. I told her "it's because representation saves lives and actually gay people would feel more authentic on screen and portray the character more realistically"....she still thought it was ridiculous and I felt really off about her after that.

She also asked me "why do you care about people that don't even know you?" Referring to when I was trying to advocate for those fighting a revolution in Iran... that showing compassion and advocating would only bring me grief....

She keeps telling me she wants me to be happy and that I have pessimistic point of view when I bring up actually real issues happening in my reality living in US and Texas. Than she says really unhelpful things like "Just move out of the US to Europe if it's so bad...."

I don't know if I'll go no contact, but I have decided to have some space from her cuz I constantly can't ignore how she does not share the same values I do... especially as a humanitarian.

I don't like to end such a long friendship, but I don't think Its benefiting me...but making decisions like this is hard.

[angelliicc]

may is mental health awareness month. i’ve decided to come on here and share my mental journey to show others that you are not alone. trigger warning: suicide, self harm

my mental health started going downhill in 2020. it was the covid years, and everyone was in quarantine. this is when i started getting to my head. id overthink about anything and everything, mostly about my future. it got so bad i got in a bad state of depression and anxiety, where i would cry myself to sleep every night thinking i would never get out of this cycle. over the next few months my relationship with my mother changed, involving verbal fighting and arguing. things got so bad to the point i started having thoughts of suicide and self-harm, which i began doing.

in 2021 i was stuck in a hole that i thought i would never get out of. i was sad all the time, always crying, and always worried. my grandparents health started declining rapidly, which was the main focus of my worries. as covid was slowly leaving and quarantine orders ended, i got to enjoy being in public again. going back to school did decline my mental health again, which caused me to be stuck in my cycle of depression. i tried to reach out for help, but no one listened to me.

in 2023-2024, my mental health was better. 2024 was when i was the happiest i’ve ever been. i haven’t thought about suicide and i was clean for 2 years. however when i joined basketball, things started going downhill.

i was constantly comparing myself to other players, saying “why cant i perform like them? why am i so behind on skill?” and so on. i was afraid i would never get to the point i wanted in basketball. i started thinking the future about basketball for me, and it worried me. i was in a gym 4x a week over the summer preparing for the next season, and in the gym/weight-room 5x a week in the fall. when basketball season came, i was in the gym/weight-room 6x a week. during practices, my coaches would pick favorites as i was not one of them. i was overlooked and underestimated, which really brought me down and questioned my ability. my coaches didn’t like anything i did, when it was wrong or right. they were never happy with me. i felt like i was hiding in my teammates shadow. i would come home, crying after practices and would lock myself in a room for hours and hours. i wouldn’t eat dinner or shower, just sit in my bed and cry. i bottled everything up in public though. one practice, i bursted. i started crying because i couldn’t handle everything that was going on with my life and basketball. i was losing love for the sport i fallen in love with as a kid. practices and games were dreadful, as i was afraid to even enter the gym. the only days that were enjoyable were sundays, which were my days off. because of my outburst during practice, i was told i couldn’t show any emotion on the court by my coaches. this is where i started self harming again. when i would feel sad during practices, i would pinch myself on the court and sidelines until there were nail marks on my skin and i started bleeding. multiple scars were along my arms and wrists, but i had to lie about what i was doing to myself. my suicide thoughts eventually came back and the thoughts of quitting my sport started. my mental health became so bad, i called one of my friends, crying on what i should do with basketball. they said “i’ve seen you work so hard, now is not the time to give up. you will overcome this.”

during this offseason, ive started reflecting. im trying to find sports psychologists to talk to regarding my struggles and worries. seeing professional athletes talk about mental health is so important to me, knowing that they are humab just like us and have their same struggles too. my favorite quote is “the moment you want to quit is exactly when you should keep going.” this stuck with me when i first read this, knowing that i have overcame challenges before and i can do it again. my favorite bible quote is “i can do all things through him who strengthens me.” -philippians 4:13. this offseason, one of my goals is to build and strengthen my relationship with god, knowing that if i put my trust in him, he will guide me through my life journey. just know whether you are a student, athlete, or human in general struggling, you are never ever alone. reach out to others for a support system or call or text 988.

[ventingintothevoidfornoreason]

I swear there must be something wrong with me. Everyone around me knows how to be human and yet all I ever do is flounder and struggle with everything I ever do. I can barely talk to people, I can barely even plan out a single day to day schedule, I don't even know why I even bother to keep going. And every time I talk to someone about this, to get an idea for what's wrong with me or why all they tell me is that I need therapy and to work on myself but that's not the point. Somethings gone rotten in me from day one. Popped fresh out the oven with mold in the middle that only seems to spread deeper and deeper in and yet no one notices. They just tell me I should see someone who can carve this out and yet what if it doesn't work? Everything I touch leaves a residue on it that shows it's me and by virtue of me just being Bad I can't even be proud of anything. I can barely stomach the idea of anyone having a decent opinion of me without the dread that comes with the disappointment and pain and awful feelings that would inflict on anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes because no matter how hard I try to convince anyone I'm bad and wrong and bad no one listens. I'm missing something so deep and human and yet I don't know what it is and I don't know how I should even begin to try and imitate it. And yet I feel like the best thing I could ever do for anyone is to remove myself. Shrink even further down and disappear and vanish and then everyone can love such better lives. They can lose one more thing on a list of items that only make their lives worse. And I can't even do that right. My own mother worries and every day I don't talk to her she feels worse because I know she just feels awful and bad and irritated when she's around me for too long because I'm such a weak willed parasite in everyone's lives. Soaking up attention and time and feelings and leaving behind only the worse of the worse. Every day I leave my room and hope someone has the guts to end me. To see me walking with the general public and have a disgust reaction so strong they just shoot me and my body dissolves into a paste so foul no one even bothers to stop and worry about if it was a human they saw get hurt. The ultimate noble death left for me is to succumb to a supposed mental illness and leave. Hope that the momentary shock and worry is replaced by nonchalant feelings and a vague sense of relief. That the effect I have on people when I die and they find out I'm dead is like getting a tapeworm removed. Momentary worry for health and then being glad it's gone. Happy even. Because why bother dealing with parasites if you can just kill them instead. Save the resources. Save the time. Save the investment. No more worries about potential and leadership and training and care. No more long term game plans for something that can barely shamble itself together into a respectable shape. Everyone can breath easier when the elephant in the room is gone. Turned to dust and paste and nothing but a slight bad taste in the mouth that easily gets washed out. A faint smell of death and decay that can be hidden and gotten rid of. A cold momentarily banished back where it came from and a virus successfully wiped out. The insistent need to consider someone like me human is something that only hurts both parties. It hurts me when you lash out due to me not meeting expectations impossible to achieve and it hurts you when I dig my teeth and claws and skin in only to turn those I want to be close with into sludge. I'm too much of a coward to pull my own trigger even and that's what makes it worse. Too dependant on the illusion of person hood to finally realize the reality of the situation. That sometimes there are people who are anything but human and not in the fun way. Not human in the sense that I am an unwilling monster who keeps doing things against it's better judgement. Acting only on instinct with no way of caring or changing it's actions to help others. Only drag them down with it

[zt4rv1ngzal3m]

Trigger warning this is me venting please just leave

Im so tired of crying all the time I'm so tired of being this sad excuse of a person. What is wrong with me... I'm trying so hard yet nothing is getting better, it's literally only getting worse what the fuck...

I can't go out in public because Im becoming even more so hyper aware of all my flaws and I critique every single little not so little thing about myself way more than before, nobody wants to be around me and i dont blame them, I wouldn't want to be around a self deprecating fat fuck either. I can't stand myself anymore.

It's like the more I try the worse things get, I try to lose weight and fast and I keep gaining and binging, I try to be nicer but I get told I'm a brat, a jerk, and I'm just in general not pleasant to be around. I shouldn't be here.

I deserve to be treated just like animals that can't get along with humans, I need to be put down. I can't stand this anymore. It's sickening and draining. I don't even know if I'm going to make it to my next holiday lol.

If I do, early congrats from myself since nobody will be around most likely by then.

I can't believe I turned out this way...

I'm so sorry.

[bandofchimeras]

religious trauma diaryposting

nah you don't get it. in my house growing up the kids would actually CRY if we heard someone say "oh my god" or cuss. even trying to briefly touch on White Jesus and Jesus actually being a Middle Eastern man got my fam so freaked out about potential blasphemy (????? idk, guess you can't criticize any portrayal of Christ) they shut down this whole conversation we were having about Palestine that was actually constructive.

when I say I grew up Catholic I mean, devout, convicted, delusionally Catholic to the point we engaged in cult behavior. and I want to, and try to respect other people's cultural Catholicism and understand my own family's cultural ties to it but bro....it's ridiculous.

I can't even imagine saying "What if Jesus kinda sucked?" to my dad. Like I do not have a mental picture of what would happen. With my parents you can criticize them, but you cannot criticize the Church. You cannot cross the line of blasphemy. It's draining to try and have a normal conversation bc in order to do so I have to pretend that sex doesn't exist, everything the Catholic Church has ever decreed is 100% absolute truth, and bodily functions are deeply shameful.

I am 28 years old. I cannot waste anymore of my life navigating this insane bullshit.

Cult recovery is so weird when the rest of your family is still in it, I'm just figuring out you can be a person without following some complex set of arbitrary rules. Like you can just exist. I constantly feel like I'm about to be struck with lightning. When I'm around my family they can be so sweet and we can have some fun but there's always a trigger line I have to mind so they don't self destruct and shut down or lash out at me. Neurodivergent religious people are incredibly fragile. And being homeschooled, that orientation was normalized to the point, along with having OCD, I have had to teach myself how to interact with the public without praying in my head for their souls or to God to protect me. It's terrifying, at first, and I still don't really understand people who just exist and don't feel a wracking pain in their core all the time from losing that delusion of absolute certainty in a belief. It's comparative to being told the Sun isn't actually real, it's a big prop in the sky created to manipulate you.

Anyways forgive the drama on main. I feel like a constant outsider and a dogged sense of aloneness, and worry that no one whose out here engaging in pop culture and living their lives actually understands the extent of the psychological damage that comes from being 100% immersed in a harmful cult for all of your formative years and leaving it to become the thing they taught you to hate and fear, and realizing you are hated and feared for having been part of the harmful cult as well.

The only time I've felt close to being seen is reading Hell Followed With Us. I related a lot to Benji's soldier like mentality of adopting new language and concepts immediately, and his hard-line dedication to destroying where he came from to prove he is not on their side, not dangerous, etc. it's fucking torturous. So that book was not fun to read at all. I barely can recommend it and will never reread it even though I am very glad to have read it. Felt a lot like watching the Passion of the Christ.

So yeah fuck off with "why aren't you over that by now?" I don't think I will be over it until I'm brave enough to publicly blaspheme and bathe myself in pigs blood or do a burlesque number on the altar of my home parish lmao.

[benefits1986]

Ora Et Labora Sunken Shit Hole Sanctuary

Hugs without hugging it out loud is this bitch's cup of matcha, always.

I vividly remember my trigger concerning space invasion. It happened during my birthday, and mother dragon's last day above the ground. It's too graphic for lunch break but I'm testing out how fast I can down a piece without drowning, this time around.

The hugs back then felt so real, in the same manner that I despise each of them. Each hug stabbed my insides because I've been CTRL + ALT + DEL mode on even when mom's vital signs are already on flight mode. The hugs felt intrusive, not calming. The kind words cut the wounds more deeply as I bleed profusely in silence. Truth be told, while I say that I'm always up for losing, winning keeps me up. Gaming numbers is my go-to. The lack of green numbers make me breathe shallower breaths. It even came to a point that I actually held my breath when I see red numbers on my mom's dashboards.

I've cheated mother dragon's death so many times and my batting average is 100%. So when she did so many alignments that took two years before the go live, I'm still trying my best to hang on to the green numbers. However, I can't cheat death; and while I know I ought to welcome it as a friend, mom and I's Invisibility Cloak is thrown out, forever.

The hugs given to me during my birthday morphed into well-guarded fortress which I strategically and tactically designed to keep out anyone who'd try to enter. Since 2012, I purposefully and passionately shut down all forms of emotional availability because I was done and over it and its the shit hole that came with it.

During the final speech I gave before mom's burial, I carefully curated my tears. I wanted to make sure that her last minutes on the earth's crust would be one that she deserved --on point, dalisay, quirky and cutting. It's probably the most excruciating public speaking engagement in my book. I barely shed a tear and up to this day, random people who were with us in those hours commend me with a job well done.

This is pretty much the sum up of my mom issues which I am facing after more than a decade this 2023, intentionally.

The hugs I'm getting are heaven sent after spending so much time in my sunken shit hole by choice, by will and by force. These hugs are not invading my territorial stance, which I find really curious. What's more interesting is that as I embrace Brene Brown's gospel, I am in a better place teeming with super slow and steady growth.

It's not easy to befriend the break as I'm a true blue pedal pusher on her wonky B. But, let this be a season where I choose my fight and get ready for my flight. These days, a "hug" well meant, is a sanctuary, a piece of heaven on this cruel and kind world.

I am an eternal WIP file girly in her ultra femme era with the goal to be a passenger princess. My edges are jagged, my flame is ember, however, these days, I'm really trying my best to "hug" the world back bit by bit. I guess, this is mother dragon's long overdue answered prayer that goes beyond this lifetime and the next for me.

May I consistently choose to show up for myself so I can give what I have with all that I am and all that I'm not. May I fine-tune my ways even more in the name of actually growing up and healing my inner children. May I continually learn the lessons of gentleness and vulnerability and the power and magic they hold. Though I'm super duper firm, may I keep slugging towards going beyond black and white, too. This is pretty much my prayer and my work. The roads are gradually converging ---Ora Et Labora meets Ikot, finally, unapologetically. It's never gonna 100% but I'm sure that I'm ready for a new chapter teeming with grace and grit. Akala mo naman my Philo paper ako kung makaarya ako dito noh? Hahahahaha. Tamad to cite because all I know is we all know nothing. CHOZ. But, when I drink, I know things in the same manner that I get unknown things, too. Okay. Hard stopping now because I want to see how much I've let my dark maroon heart bleed in blue. Also, sana ganito na ako mag-storytell sa work and sa life in 2024. Syempre, hindi ganito kahaba, noh. 'Yung saktong sapul lang with full intention. Abangan! Hirap mag-full contextual English. UGH.

[actually-nagito]

everywhere there is privilege, there are also those who suffer. there is always suffering amongst someone else’s privilege. Just because it is hidden from your view doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Most people try to pretend it doesn’t exist or shun it. Examples like the number of homeless individuals increasing as housing prices skyrocket; rich people will make vlogs showing off their renovations and constant purchasing and selling of houses. Meanwhile the only way to afford a house now if you’re gen z or a millenial is if you inherit it, and even then it’s hard to keep up the pay for water, gas, electricity, etc… It shouldn’t be so difficult to have a home, yet it is.

Those CEOs and rich business owners who can earn millions a year but still pay their employees minimum wage - minimum wage isn’t liveable anymore but rich entrepreneurs would still rather have a life of luxury than to admit they’re the cause. If people were actually paid a decent amount, maybe they could afford a house.

People becoming disabled from the pandemic, or war, and governments still not caring about disability equality. If you are on disability benefits, which in Canada is less than half of minimum wage, you cannot marry someone who makes over $6k a year or else you lose your benefits. AKA you cannot get married. Sure firing someone for being disabled is illegal, but making up a reason isn’t. Disabled people struggle to work everyday jobs sometimes because of their disabilities themselves, sometimes able bodied coworkers who are uncomfortable by them.

But they always try to hide it.

“Shh. Keep the disabled worker in the back, we don’t want customers to feel uncomfortable.”

“You can’t set up a tent here. It’s public property but past 9pm you have to go to a shelter. I don’t care if there isn’t clean or running water. I don’t care if there isn’t a proper place to sleep or bathe or even get dressed. You make the public uncomfortable by being out here.”

It’s always to make others feel less uncomfortable, but never to make us feel welcomed or part of society. We are outsiders because the rich praise those who make them more money, and shun those who don’t.

When homeless, some shelters kick you out from 9am-9pm. That’s a full 12 hours of having to go outside. In harsh winters, where do the homeless go? You get shunned or yelled at for sitting in a shop, you go to try and find jobs but in order to get paid you need a home address so they refuse you, a lot of homeless people can’t even work because they’re disabled and couldn’t afford to live anywhere anymore.

If you have a mental illness, people mock you for being weird. They mock you and laugh at you when their loud honking from their expensive cars trigger you into a flashback. They play games to see who can make you drop your groceries first. They laugh when you flinch. But yet they also want to pretend you don’t exist. Have a mental illness? Send them away. Send them to a psych ward that will do more harm than good. And if they’re disabled, a psych ward could k!ll them by not giving proper medications or holding back medications, or mixing medications together.

You go to a doctor for help because you’re suffering so much that you can’t even live properly anymore and no one can give you the care you need that quickly. That your importance and life depends on the schedule and availability of the doctor; who takes weekends off and has a house, family, and kids. Your illness doesn’t take a single day off. You don’t get a break. But you still have to wait years just for a doctor to see you and tell you they can’t do anything. If you even make it that long. Other doctors tell you to apply for MAiD if it’s so bad. They’d rather k!ll you than try and help you because the thing that would help you they won’t get paid a lot for.

I’ve heard (and been told myself) that there’s a treatment for colitis. But the treatment isn’t funded, and only one doctor in the country does it. It works, but doctors don’t get paid to do it, so instead they remove your colon. They’d rather remove a vital organ that could still have potential to work, just so they can get more in their pockets. The treatment is called a stool transplant, and it can be done a few different ways, some not invasive and some invasive. But doctors will keep putting you off, telling you “well you’ve been here 5 times (admitted to hospital for colitis issues), you need actually 6 in order to qualify for stool transplants”. Then the next time “well you’ve been here 6 times, you need 7 in order for a referral” and keep it going for years and years until you finally get booked with a doctor that actually cares about you.

If you aren’t a part of society, people mock you. People shun you. People pretend you don’t exist.

Because you remind them that it could’ve happened to them if they were born like you. Or that they’re the cause of it. Or that they’re so privleged they don’t even realize your existence, and when they do they pretend to help and praise themselves for giving you a dollar meanwhile you’d give anything just for them to let you back into society and treat you like a human and not a wishing well.

“Praise Jesus. Believe in the Lord. Here’s a coin; bless you and hope that Jesus will heal you.”

We don’t need to be healed. We don’t need to be religious in order to get a house or a home or food or have enough money to live. We don’t need you to pray us better. We need you to stop hiding us. Stop shunning us away. Stop treating us like we are a tragedy you can fix by giving us five cents instead of changing aspects of your livelihood to include us.

Most people though would rather despise you and shun you because you make them uncomfortable than to treat you like a person. They use the excuse that they aren’t used to it. That it scares them. It’s a burden to them. They must be lucky they aren’t you, then. So privileged that they tell you how much of a burden you are to them because they could never picture themselves in your situation. That it makes them feel uncomfortable, so they would rather pretend you don’t exist. Rather not talk to you. Rather dump you if you say anything about it, because it’s a shush topic. Society can’t hear them talk about it! They’d never willingly be there for you, unless they actually experience it themselves. Because to them, they can just pretend you don’t exist and their life stays privileged. But to you, now you’ve lost your only source of comfort. Or lost shelter: a home, or lost the only person who would even say hello to you and not scoff at you for sitting in a restaurant.

The privileged make me uncomfortable.

[leighlew3]

It’s funny that I did not in fact wake up the next day with hope again.

I’ve barely gotten out of bed for three days. I was absolutely unaware of how triggering it would be to see so many people gleefully cheering for the harm of women (including other women) and people printing up t-shirts with r-threat text, and posts encouraging the violation of women getting tens of thousands of likes and young boys across the country taunting girls in school now with the exact same phrase.

I’ve never been somebody with triggers around my traumas like that. But I’ve also never seen it being embraced and celebrated on such a mass widespread scale. I have never in my life, felt more unsafe as a female. And I grew up in a household of severe abuse at the hands of a man towards my mother and ourselves for the first 18 years of my life so that should tell you something.

We all knew it could happen, we’ve all seen how history has played out. But I wasn’t quite prepared for how I would react to it all happening now when I was already in a weakened place due to my grief over losing my mom and not being able to move forward from that. When you’re already hanging on by a thread and then nationwide, you are sent a message that as a survivor of multiple horrible traumas as a young girl/woman everybody is laughing at you and wants you dead. It’s hard, to put it mildly.

And I’m not even somebody who is the most vulnerable. And all of my empathy is just aching also for every other woman in this country who didn’t betray us all and Black women and my LGBTQ peoples. So I’m trying to figure out a way to keep breathing and keep moving forward and finding that fight that I’ve always had deep down that for some reason has completely disappeared. And I know that the reason is my world is gone since my mom died last year. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

And I don’t like feeling this way and I don’t like the fact that I can’t control my emotions because I’ve always been somebody who is very self-aware and very self analyzing and willing to take a look at my own fuck ups and hypocrisy and flaws and try to be better. But I can’t fix myself right now and I can’t fix anything for any other woman. And I’m filled with so much rage and despair but also absolute emptiness and helplessness at the same time which is bizarre. And I’m just hoping in the coming days that it turns into rallying and continuing to fight and being there for other people like I’ve always been.

But I think part of getting there is being very open and transparent in a public space like this. Because I’ve always been an open book and wanted other people going through similar things to know that they were not alone.

So if all of this vulnerability and admission of misery and emotional unwellness helps anybody else feel seen or understood then maybe it’s worth something and it’s not just the ramblings of somebody in a really dark place. 💜

Anyway, I’m sure tomorrow I will wake up inspired to carry on and say we gotta try to be the best we can be and have empathy where others have none. And in my industry (which is about to go further downhill) make things that entertain and represent people who need it now more than ever.

For now: g’night.

And for those who are feeling hopeless… I send you love. 💜

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I'm the only person in the Florida Keys who still wears a mask whenever I go inside a public place, I get a lot of stares, a lot of glares (which are distinct from stares, more antagonistic), and a lot of chuckles, but I can ignore all that. What I couldn't ignore was when this older white lady lifted her leg like a fucking animal and farted on me. That was the single worst thing another human being has done to me in 25 years on this earth, and it is by the grace of God that I did not go to jail for physically assaulting that woman. I did call her a disgusting bitch out loud so everyone in the Publix parking lot could hear, and then I stormed off before she could respond.

This is the savagery I deal with. These people are absolutely beyond parody. Farting on people, spitting on people (no one has ever spat on me, but one guy in a truck spat at me, spat in my direction, but he was too far away for it to hit me), I wouldn't put it past them to dig their fingers up their ass and smear shit on people like fucking apes! How fucking bestial are these people? What point are they trying to prove? "Covid is a hoax, so I'm gonna shit myself in public to show how unafraid of germs I am!" She LIFTED HER LEG LIKE A DOG! Somebody's grandmother. If my gramma did this to someone, I wouldn't think it was funny, and I certainly wouldn't be PROUD of her or cheer her on. This is despicable behavior, but from her perspective she won this interaction because she got a rise out of me. That's what this is all about, just getting reactions. Doesn't matter if they embarrass themselves in the process, because they don't feel shame! It's not embarrassing to these people. They will never look back on this moment with anything but a feeling of smug superiority, if they think about it at all. Chances are this lady will forget it even happened in a week, it's so mundane to her. I doubt she goes around farting on a ton of people, I'm probably the only masked person she's encountered in months, but in her mind I'm no insignificant, so beneath her, that she can't even be bothered to commit this to p9ng term memory. It's like stepping on a bug. Even if she felt bad about it, which she doesn't, it's just a bug, one of many, a forgettable experience. The fact that I'm still mad about it would make her so fucking satisfied, it hurts. "I really owned that lib! I triggered him hard!"

I can't imagine going about my life like that. What kind of life must you live where you feel comfortable farting on strangers in public because you think its funny? This is elementary school bully behavior! Underdeveloped empathy! No sense of right or wrong! And we're really living in two separate planes of reality because there's no convincing them that their behavior is abnormal or inappropriate. In their world, they're completely justified and will never see it any other way. They feel no regret, no remorse, no self doubt, no guilt, nothing. They live truly blissful lives where they can molest anyone and never be molested. I still follow societal norms, I refuse to stoop to their level, so I lose. I am going about every interaction with one hand tied behind my back, unwilling to commit the same disgusting acts of indecency and disrespect, and that makes me weak. In a world of assholes, you can't get by being nice. They don't feel bad about being assholes because they WANT to be assholes! They don't WANT to be nice, they WANT to hurt people, and rarely ever get their comeuppance because the universe is uncaring and unfeeling. The United States of America is proof positive that karma does not exist, because otherwise our entire continent would have sunk into the sea by now.

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 30

This was fun, y’all.  Thanks for humoring me!

Part 1...Part 29

***

She spent four days mostly standing in front of the Goddess statue, trying to glow without requiring something inappropriate to trigger it.  She could now get it every single time with very minimal effort, but that effort was usually Link coming up behind her and placing a kiss where her neck met her shoulder, or trailing his fingers from the inside of her elbow to her wrist.  And suddenly her skin was lit up like a camp fire, a fuzzy pleasure brushing over her like a thin blanket.  It was embarrassing and frustrating, but at least she could trigger it without an orgasm and could hold her luminous state for long stretches once she got it going.

"That's true," Link agreed.  He'd taken a seat on the ground with his arms resting on his bent knees.  "You just need to work on not making that face."

Zelda huffed, her arms flopping to her sides and her glow spluttering out.  "I'm trying!"

The problem was that now that she'd allowed herself to feel affection for Link, she always felt a little giddy and ridiculous when she did so.  Apparently, this manifested not only in a divine luminescence, but also in a love-struck look on her face.  Link referred to it as "bedroom eyes" when he was being polite, and "fuck me face" when he wasn't.  He'd taken a bunch of pictures to show her, and he was (annoyingly) correct.  She could not make that face in public.

"Maybe you'd look less sultry if you closed your eyes," he said.

"Then I wouldn't be able to see anything!"

"Can you use your Goddess powers to see things?"

"I can use my Goddess powers to glow!  They don't do anything else!"

"Are they supposed to?"

"I don't know!"

"Try it."

She closed her eyes and tried it.  She remembered the warm pressure in her chest and she remembered the heat of his breath on her skin and she thought about how he he'd made her a tiny little cake the night before and then blushed as she'd gushed over it.  Those were things that she liked about him.  Those were good things, and she felt a way about them.

The glow didn't light.  

Why not?  Those had made her feel things.  She felt things.  Things for Link.  She took another breath and pushed into less appropriate territory, of the way he'd wrapped around her back the night before and let his hands wander until she was moaning with abandon and glowing, burning.

"You got it?"  His hands came to rest on her hips, and her eyes popped open as she lit up.

Goddess, she hated that he could do that. She batted the thought away, and held tighter to her lust.  Goddess, she liked his hands on her.

He looked taken aback, almost awed.  Even though he was expecting it.  Even though he'd seen it dozens of times now.  

Part of why she needed to get her face under control was that it affected Link so.

He swallowed hard.  "Close your eyes.  Let's see if that...oh."  His voice turned rough.  "Oh, that's so much worse."

He pulled her in at the waist and kissed her desperately.

#

Link made himself scarce as she wrote up her field notes.  She had very little to write.  She'd made very little progress.

In frustration, she tossed her journal away.  She would just have to have Link come touch her when he was done battling Ganon.  Maybe he could magically poke her with his index finger as if she were the Sheikah slate.  And they most likely would evacuate the area, so it wouldn't matter if she had on her come-hither face.  Link would just have to deal with not making out with her for however long it took to seal the Calamity away.  And who cared if she made a face?  If making a face saved the world, no one would be allowed to say anything.

Except Zelda cared.  She didn't want to look ridiculous, and she didn't want to rely on Link to access her own powers.  She glared at her journal.

Where was Link anyway?

She stomped off to go glare at him.  Or go have him be gentle and compassionate until she had too much trouble holding onto her irritation.

She found him before the Goddess statue, his head bowed, the sword drawn with its tip resting against the ground.

She frowned harder.  "Are you praying?" she asked.

He startled and spun around.  "Oh.  Yeah.  Um.  You haven't been praying lately, so I've had to...pray by myself."

An old, familiar hurt settled over her. Of course he was on such good terms with the Goddess, when she was...she was...

She was working on her relationship with the Goddess.  She understood that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt, and it didn't mean she wasn't still upset that she couldn't fully access her powers without the help of someone the Goddess liked.

Link looked nervous, as if he knew she was about to shout at him again.  Guilt lanced at her stomach.  She lowered her eyes and stepped near him.  

"What do you pray for?" she asked quietly.

"Um.  Nothing?"

She snorted.  "You pray for me."

He didn't say anything, which confirmed it.

"Show me," she said.  She turned him back to face the Goddess, and slipped her way into his arms, her back to his chest.  She placed her hands over his as they planted the sword to the ground.

He held himself stiff with discomfort, but then relaxed his arms under hers and lowered his head.  "Close your eyes," he murmured.  

Well, this was her idea.  She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"I pray for you to have some guidance," he said.  "Because you desperately want to please her, and you want to do it right, but all you have to go on are rumors and what you're ordered to do by people who don't know what they're doing either.  I pray for some sign that you're on the right path.  Not because I want to know, because I know you'll get there.  But for you.  You need assurance or your self-doubt eats at you, and there's no way that self-doubt will save Hyrule.

"And I pray for you to be happy.  Because you're beautiful when you're sad and you're beautiful when you're angry, but I would die to see you smile.  To hear you laugh.  The way you carry yourself when you're at ease, the excited way you talk when you catch onto something new.  That light in you could light the whole world.  It could burn away the Calamity."

"You're a charmer," she murmured.

"You're a peach."

She snorted.  "You don't pray like I do."

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't tell the Goddess all that."

"Why not?"

Why not?  "Because she already knows?"

"But maybe she wants to hear you say it."

"She wants me to wax poetic about a girl?" she teased.

"Wax poetic about what you love."

"Love is a strong word."

"And you're asking for a powerful weapon."

Her eyebrows furrowed.  In a small voice she asked, "What should I pray for?"

He thought for a moment.  "Why do you want to save Hyrule?"

"Because it's my--" 

Duty.

She startled.  The answer had rolled off her tongue.

Anxiety she couldn't name clawed at her chest.  She shifted uncomfortably.  Maybe standing like this had been a bad idea.

"She'd like to hear you say it."

Her breath shook.  "I want to save my people.  My friends.  Urbosa and Revali and Mipha and Daruk.  They're so devoted and encouraging.  If they fell, then their people would suffer.  All the brilliance of our people would falter, all compassion and the triumphs.  The wonderful art and music and literature--"

"Even the bad literature."

"Especially the bad literature!  And the bad music!  All the ridiculous rumors, and the guards who devour those rumors, and all the fake girlfriends out there.  We would lose all of that!  And as shameful as it is, I would fight for those things."

"What else would you fighting for?"

"The Sheikah technology.  You don't know the victory you feel when two pieces snap together.  The thrill when a guardian lights blue under my hands.  The way Robbie nods along when I ramble and then picks up my thoughts and runs with them, taking them somewhere new, and the I can pick them up again and run farther.  The way Purah grabs my arm the moment I walk into the lab.  The way she drags me to a diagram and asks my opinion.  As if I'm wanted!  As if I'm needed!"

The sword flared under her hands, a ringing note at the base of her skull, and her eyes flew open at the call for attention.

She was glowing.  A warm pressure burned in her chest, and she grabbed hold of it to maintain it.

"What--"

"Things you care for," Link murmured.

She turned her head to look at him in surprise and confusion.

The corner of his mouth quirked.  "You're not making the face."

"How long have I been glowing?"

"Since you declared your love for trashy novels."

"Love is a strong word."

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. 

"But,” she said, “I need a strong weapon.”

His eyes darkened.  “You’re making the face again.”

When she kissed him, it was bright and sharp as the sun.