#so much so that i put programming in this system

[ovaryacted]

CW: talks about U.S. politics per usual.

Every time I want to come on here and talk about the “Big Beautiful Bill” that just recently passed and will be signed into law today on 4th of July, I just find myself at a loss of words and I don’t really know what to say. Like what is there to say on a logical basis when everybody about this bill is anything but logical? This piece of legislation & everyone who signed off on it don’t care about people, they don’t care about their jobs, they don’t care about the rule of law, they don’t care about anything other than continuously voting in support of state sanctioned death and the mass suffering of people living in this country.

People have been brainwashed to think that undocumented people are the ones primarily using federal & state resources when undocumented people can’t vote in elections, can’t receive Medicaid, Medicare, or SNAP (food stamps) unless it’s under very specific circumstances. How do you give resources to someone who technically “doesn’t exist” in the country?

Regular every day people are on Medicaid/Medicare, some people don’t even know they receive it. Low-income people, single parents, the elderly, and majority of children & people with disabilities are the main beneficiaries of these safety nets, and these things aren’t nullified by things like race & ethnicity. Minors in the foster system are federally mandated to receive Medicaid & Medicare. What happens to them now that it’s gone? People with chronic illnesses, cancer, and rare diseases receive Medicaid & Medicare for their treatments and medications. Many hospitals receive funding for their educational programs for new med students & nurses as well as general care through federal programs. Medicare & Medicaid covers differences in medical care for people with insurance, and those with private insurance will be dealing with more expensive premiums for less than ideal care.

When hospitals begin to close down because they can no longer take care of patients, and more people have to drive hours for medical emergencies while receiving rushed or botched care because of underfunded & overworked limited staff: people will die, plain and simple. And frankly, it doesn’t matter what side of the political spectrum you fall under; democrats, republicans, MAGA, people in sanctuary cities and in deep red districts - people will be hurt across the board regardless of political party. The only difference is that MAGA people will still blame the democrats & undocumented people for the cruelty of their own leaders, and they are conditioned by their cult to think that way, and democrats will condemn the law and do nothing to change it if/when they gain power again.

We’ve been forced to think that the concept of people being able to receive housing, healthcare, food, education, and other social services is such a far fetched and impossible fantasy. A concentration camp was built on Native land deep in the Everglades in the hot state of Florida before hurricane season (Aug-Oct) in 8 days. They are purposely taking alligators from the region and putting them around the perimeter of the tents they built so people can make jokes about feeding literal human beings to alligators for entertainment. $150 Billion dollars was just given to ICE instantaneously, and most people don’t understand how much money $150 BILLION is. ICE as a department now has more funding than the Marines in the military, the FBI, the CIA, and all other federal agencies, which are still being depleted of their resources & staff btw. With $150 Billion, that makes ICE that largest and mostly funded militarized police force in the nation, AND now they are the 8th largest military police force globally. Do you know how crazy that is? Not to mention, there’s smaller police forces across the country: NYPD (the largest), LAPD, and every other police unit known to man. ICE is a prime example of what happens when you give a state police force all the funding & authority they could dream of to kidnap people off of the streets so they can fulfill their own quotas.

The government never has money to ensure people have the safety nets needed for them to survive, they’re never able to tackle homelessness, they’re never able to tackle the student or medical debt crisis, they’re never able to have enough empathy to make sure people don’t die regardless of where they come from or how they arrived into the country. But they will always, ALWAYS, have enough money for war to kill and terrorize black and brown people on their own home turf and overseas around the world.

People will die. Your neighbors will disappear. More people will fall through the cracks when they can no longer pay their rent or feed themselves. People will die from preventative illnesses because they can’t get vaccines or they can’t see a doctor or they try to avoid being crippled by the threat of medical debt. Many will also become disabled from a myriad of things and that will impact their ability to support themselves when they have no safety nets available to help them, and our worth of people have been defined based on our ability to contribute to labor. Once we’re not able to work, the state could give less of a fuck about what happens to us.

I constantly have to remember that the cruelty is the point, and that all of this isn’t new to the history of the country and how they generally treat people. But it’s still so disheartening to see just how far these people are willing to go to ensure people they vehemently hate are disposed of. They’ll go to church on Sunday to pray, and they’ll prey on everyone else for the remainder of the fucking week.

I can go on and on about just how bad this bill is cause there really is so much into it people don’t know half of it, but all I can say is get more involved in your communities. Learn about other ways to help like mutual aid services/groups, food banks, volunteering at a shelter of some kind, get certifications in CPR & emergency first aid, go to an intervention course to become more mobilized against police forces & protect your neighbors. And most importantly, learn about history, crack open a book, because even if all of this seems new and unprecedented, these tactics have been done before, detention camps aren’t new to America, feeding undesirables isn’t new to the U.S. when they did that to enslaved black children, changing the definition of citizenship isn’t new either when that was a huge thing post-Reconstruction following the Civil War. Honestly, I have no doubt that we will see another civil war happening over the course of the next few years.

Learn more about what you can do, and get organized, because these institutions won’t save you. These people want to kill you, and they won’t stop until they do.

[genericpuff]

I feel like the major issue is that you can pay for something on apps like Webtoon, but you’re not paying for life. And if those apps go down— I believe two are actually going defunct now (pocket comics(?) and one other)— all that money you spent to read them legally is gone. And there’s no digital copy of the stories you bought either that you can save. So if you want to keep reading it legally, you have to go to another site, soend even more money (esp if you don’t remember where you left off), and hope that site doesn’t go down either.

It just sucks, man

True that, as much as I understand why Webtoons is gutting programs like DailyPass (capitalism gonna capitalism) it doesn't make it any less restrictive and frustrating especially when it comes to media preservation / ownership.

In that way, Webtoons' business model is contradictory to the nature and spirit of webcomics, which have always typically been free to read / free to access and made by indie creators as a side project / hobby / etc. (and that's pretty much why WT is struggling so hard to profit off them, because the Western demographic is accustomed to getting webcomics for free).

Making comics is also a LOT of work though, and so it's not unreasonable at all for creators to try and monetize their work in some way, whether it's through Patreon or ads or selling physical books. But there's such a fine line between supporting creators and exploiting audiences, and Webtoons has definitely crossed that line on more than one occasion.

I don't think people would hate AdPass/paying with coins so much if we knew exactly how much creators were getting on the backend - not necessarily specific numbers, just split percentages or something to that degree - but unfortunately WT has the ability to control at least half the narrative through their NDA's that prevent creators from speaking out about those details.

At the very least, it's good that it's become pretty common knowledge now - thanks to the few creators who have stepped forward and risked their jobs to share information about what they earn and/or what they put up with - that Webtoons is exploitative, it means people are more aware of these issue. But unfortunately, it's creators who get caught in the crossfire whenever readers rightfully want to boycott the platform or read pirated works because they were put behind extra barriers just because they're completed - because creators are the ones who lose out on the extra income and the viewing metrics which Webtoons uses to determine whether or not they keep their jobs.

It's a trap that Webtoons has deliberately placed within the webcomics scene, and it's probably the one thing they've succeeded at the most over the years, by creating this system that creators and readers alike struggle to escape from because it inevitably means someone has to lose a leg.

So yeah, fuck you Webtoons.

[zazaiafe2]

The 5 things that are probably delaying your shift.

This post might answer a lot of the asks I got so read carefully.

1. Why might you not have shifted yet?

Many people stay stuck in their CR because they remain hyper-vigilant (“am I doing this right, did I arrive yet”), even unconsciously. Your nervous system is programmed to maintain your current safety, and interprets any major change (like shifting) as a potential threat. This blocks access to altered states of consciousness that are more ideal. The brain stays stuck in beta mode and struggles to go down to alpha or theta, which is much more favorable for shifting.

How to fix it?

Practice cardiac coherence or box breathing every night

Do meditation (guided or not)

Reduce blue light (filter or soft lamp) at least 1 hour before, even better if 2 hours

Do a relaxing activity

Use WBTB

Listen to theta and alpha waves

Cut out social media that overstimulates your mind (yes, it’sbecause of the damn phone)

-> By regulating your nervous system, you allow yourself to open the door to a more flexible state of consciousness, which makes shifting easier (not 100% guaranteed, but don’t worry, it increases your chances).

When we are stressed or awake we are mostly in beta, the goal is to move to alpha or theta

If you tend to get stressed, aim for alpha instead.

If you are used to altered states of consciousness or less stressed you can go towards theta

You can also listen to these frequencies to enter theta more quickly; there are some on YouTube with or without music.

2. Identity anchoring too rigid

Many people block themselves without realizing it by repeating “I” statements that are linked to their CR. Your mind has learned to maintain your current identity as “normal” (spoiler alert: it’s just habitual, not normal). As a result, it protects it and slows you down from reaching your new identity and new environment (your DR).

How to fix it?

Reformulate your script with more flexible phrases, for example “I can explore other realities” instead of “I’m already in my DR”

Train yourself to feel that your “me” or “self” can be fluid and is not a fixed point

Do ego dissolution meditations

Enter the void state

Visualize your identity as an energy that can travel, an infinite wave

-> This softens the brain areas that manage the sense of self, which makes it easier to change reality lines and helps anchor yourself in a new identity much more quickly.

This kind of meditation can really help you in this area.

3. The fear of the unknown

Even if you want to shift, your subconscious might be afraid. Afraid of losing your bearings, afraid of failure, afraid of the unexpected, and many other things that make you want to shake it (but be kind to it, it only wants your good). This fear can show up as blockages, self-sabotage, or the famous inability to “let go” that I talk about quite often.

How to fix it?

Get used to imagining new but pleasant situations every day, or if you wish, put yourself in unusual situations

Play with changing mental scenery in your imagination

Do a guided hypnosis for letting go

Reassure your subconscious with gentle affirmations

Welcome the feeling of floating as an adventure

-> The more you gently tame the unknown, the more your mind will agree to let you pass through the portal.

You can listen to this meditation for example.

You can also go for guided hypnosis to talk to your subconscious and reassure it.

4. Internal contradictions

Many people say “I want to shift” but deep down think “I don’t believe it” or “I will never make it.” This inner conflict tends to create a blockage, because your brain has more difficulty acting on a divided intention at the key moment.

How to fix it?

Talk to your subconscious or pay attention to your inner/body tensions

Write down your fears and doubts in black and white in a notebook or in your notes

Imagine the confident part of you reassuring the doubting part

Transform your inner phrase to: “I allow myself to try”

-> Harmonizing your desires and beliefs is like releasing the handbrake before driving. The internal resistance will ease and you will be less in this state of tension before falling asleep.

5. Lack of confidence and inner permission

Shifting is not about forcing, but about allowing. Your critical mind can refuse to let go if you give it rigid orders or if you aim for perfection. Your brain stays in beta “problem-solving” mode, and the self-checking is more constant, so you have trouble entering theta/alpha and letting go. This also increases the risk of struggling to calm your mind.

It can also increase performance anxiety.

Adopt the key phrase:

"I have nothing to prove, I am capable of letting go"

Accept taking just one small step, no need to be perfect

Anchor yourself in the emotion of safety and trust

Do holotropic breathing to free yourself and accept your imperfections

-> The more you feel allowed to receive without excessive control, the more the shift toward your DR becomes natural.

Conclusion

If you remember just one thing:

calm your nervous system + soften your identity + tame the unknown + align your thoughts + allow yourself to receive.

These 5 levers are the key to stop staying stuck in your CR and truly cross the “portal” to your Adopt the key phrase:

"I have nothing to prove, I am capable of letting go"

Accept taking just one small step, no need to be perfect

Anchor yourself in the emotion of safety and trust

Do holotropic breathing to free yourself and accept your imperfections

-> The more you feel allowed to receive without excessive control, the more the shift toward your DR becomes natural.

Conclusion

If you remember just one thing:

calm your nervous system + soften your identity + tame the unknown + align your thoughts + allow yourself to receive.

These 5 levers are the key to stop staying stuck in your CR and truly cross the “portal” to your DR.

.

[dravidious]

How's the writing going? Well I've written over 2000 words and I'm questioning if I'm spelling "our" correctly, so you know

[pinkestlemonades]

being a writer has me googling some wacky wild things

[exoflash]

the only thing that irritates me as badly as new agers is western christians trying to explain away the spiritual with pseudoscience

[quercus-queer]

In case anyone was wondering about the Lilo and Stitch movie here’s the highlights from someone chronically online enough to have seen the movie through snippets lol

Nani does in fact give Lilo up to the government, ppl defend it by saying David’s mom is her foster mom now but Lilo is still in fact in the system and can easily be taken away from David’s mom if conditions are “unfit”… the exact same situation Nani was in before lol

Took away all of Nani’s support system that the original movie develops for her except for David/his mom

Had Nani treat Lilo like a burden for “realism”… anyway…

Lilo literally says “you’re so smart Nani, I think you should join the Marines”

Nani was deeply connected to her culture and family, that aspect of her just isn’t there at the end of the day (and part of that is because Sydney is not indigenous Hawaiian and it shows… in looks, actions, and line delivery) and the conclusion to her story being giving up her kid sister to the state and leaving her home for a “better” education and future is atrocious

They had her go to California to study marine biology. First of all, it was implied she was a pro surfer in the og movie no hint of marine biology. Not every persons dream is college and it doesn’t need to be part of everyone’s story… the choice of “putting yourself first” in order to get a better education is very #girlboss… Second of all, Hawaii has multiple universities with marine biology programs that would give far more money and benefits to a native Hawaiian than literally any Californian school let alone UCSD lmao

They changed their island from Kauai to Oahu… most obvious reason they did this was because that is the island their resort is on and overrun with tourists. However, with this location change and their wack ass narrative changes they also made going to California even more blatantly propaganda because that is where the University of Hawaii at Manoa is… ALSO, Oahu has major cities… you know how Sitch has to find new meaning for existence because he can’t do what he was programmed to do because he’s stuck on an island with no big cities… yeah…

On this note, pretty much removed all substantial tourism commentary

Jumba is the villain, he sounds like a whiny computer nerd and it’s miserable

Pleakley is lame, rip queen 🕊️

Lilo is pretty well adjusted and normal lol? No fights, no biting, no trying to curse her enemies etc… she’s literally a normal girl which… alright then???

There is no Gantu (rumor has it this is at its core because they don’t want to make law enforcement look bad)

CGI is literally so fucking bad like besides aesthetics the actors literally don’t point to where Stitch is and when they’re supposed to touch it they often miss lol

Editing is also terrible. Every scene lasts like 5 seconds and is jarring, so genuinely terrible I think shows like this are gonna further ruin kids attention spans lmfao

Nani misses Lilo’s actual performance instead of just being late to pick up Lilo from practice after getting into a fight…

Myrtle isn’t white #diversity win

No ugly duckling subplot

Bubbles is not the social worker and is working against the gang (again removing all of Nani’s support system, he literally shows up for every holiday with the fam in the og)

Changing the social worker role from an externally imposing black man with good intentions to a gentle woman has some undertones tbh considering this is the justification: “According to Camp, it was easy for audiences to believe that a towering man with a "Cobra" tattooed on his knuckles was a social worker in the animated movie​​​​​. However, that kind of exaggerated character design doesn't translate convincingly to live-action.”

The new social worker literally tells Nani that the right thing to do is to give up Lilo… very different from Bubbles doing his best to keep the sisters together. Keeping family together is a prime goal in social work btw…

[sleepyblr-heart]

the pronouns.. they are no longer local.

[crazy-hazy-sims]

Hey everyone it seems there a malicious individual trying to hack the sims cc community again and fill it with malware you need to stay vigilant as a creator and a downloader so

i have some tips for both to stay safe while downloading:

1- sims cc file extension is always .Package never download anything that is .exe

2- do not auto unpack zip files and rar files into your mods folder directly, open each zip or rar individually check the file extensions and drag them to your mods folder one by one

3- the only mods that have a .ts4script extension are ones that affect gameplay or how the game works, understand that if you are downloading cas or bb items you shouldn't have a .ts4script file

4- if you are downloading gameplay mods that do have .ts4script make sure that A) the creator hasn't announced on their pages that its infected B) you are downloading from a link provided by the creator of the mods themselves not something off of google or a link you got sent and make sure dates of upload match dated of announcements

5- if the mod or cc creator has retired and hasn't posted for a while LOOK AT THE DATES OF THE UPLOAD if it has been "updated recently" after the creator has left the community its most likely re-uploaded by a hacker and infected

6- download mod gaurd by Twisted mexi and keep it updated and keep your windows defender or malware detector Program up to date and always running do not disable it

7- make sure everything you download comes from a direct link from the cc creator, in this day and age do not trust link shortners, adfly, linkverse, etc get the universal bypass extension and ublock extension to stay safe but genuinely NEVER CLICK ON THOSE no matter how much the creator reassures you its safe it. is. NOT.

8- this is more of a general saftey precaution but, create a system restore point weekly before you run the game with new mods that way if anything happens you could have a chance to restore your windows to an earlier date before you downloaded anything.

9- BACK UP YOUR SHIT im serious right now either weekly or monthly put your files somewhere safe like a usb a storage card a hard drive even an online cloud if you dont have any of the previous.

10- files you should back up are your media from games and media everything else, any mods, games saves, work files, passwords, saved bookmarks, any documents txt files word files pdfs, links you saved, brushes or actions for Photoshop if you have any, any digital bills or certificates if you have any, and keep a physical list of all programs you have installed and where you installed them from

11- turn on any 2 factor authentication and security measures for any account you have

12- google and firefox have the option to check your paswords and emails against any data leaks USE THIS FEATURE and change any leaked passwords

13- regularly check your logged in sessions to make sure all the logged in devices or computers are yours and log out any that aren't and any old devices or unused sessions do this for every website and app you have an account on if available

14- change your passwords often. I know this is a hassle i know its hard to come up with new passwords but changing your passwords every few months will help you against anything mention previously that wasn't detected.

15- and as a cc creator check your cc and the accounts you host cc on and its uplaod and update dates make sure nothing has been changed without your permission :(

16- generally try not to get swept up in the "i must get it" fever you do not need to "shop" for mods weekly or monthly you do not need to download everything by that one creator you do not need to download new cc everytime you want to make a sim, im guilty of this so i know how hard it is to resist but take a breath and think "do i want this or do i need it" before downloading.

These are prevention methods i cant claim they are 100% will prevent any hacking but its better to be safe than sorry and these do keep you safe so

Brought to you by someone who has had their laptop ruined and data leaked from downloading cc once upon a time

[deep-space-netwerk]

So Venus is my favorite planet in the solar system - everything about it is just so weird.

It has this extraordinarily dense atmosphere that by all accounts shouldn't exist - Venus is close enough to the sun (and therefore hot enough) that the atmosphere should have literally evaporated away, just like Mercury's. We think Earth manages to keep its atmosphere by virtue of our magnetic field, but Venus doesn't even have that going for it. While Venus is probably volcanically active, it definitely doesn't have an internal magnetic dynamo, so whatever form of volcanism it has going on is very different from ours. And, it spins backwards! For some reason!!

But, for as many mysteries as Venus has, the United States really hasn't spent much time investigating it. The Soviet Union, on the other hand, sent no less than 16 probes to Venus between 1961 and 1984 as part of the Venera program - most of them looked like this!

The Soviet Union had a very different approach to space than the United States. NASA missions are typically extremely risk averse, and the spacecraft we launch are generally very expensive one-offs that have only one chance to succeed or fail.

It's lead to some really amazing science, but to put it into perspective, the Mars Opportunity rover only had to survive on Mars for 90 days for the mission to be declared a complete success. That thing lasted 15 years. I love the Opportunity rover as much as any self-respecting NASA engineer, but how much extra time and money did we spend that we didn't technically "need" to for it to last 60x longer than required?

Anyway, all to say, the Soviet Union took a more incremental approach, where failures were far less devastating. The Venera 9 through 14 probes were designed to land on the surface of Venus, and survive long enough to take a picture with two cameras - not an easy task, but a fairly straightforward goal compared to NASA standards. They had…mixed results.

Venera 9 managed to take a picture with one camera, but the other one's lens cap didn't deploy.

Venera 10 also managed to take a picture with one camera, but again the other lens cap didn't deploy.

Venera 11 took no pictures - neither lens cap deployed this time.

Venera 12 also took no pictures - because again, neither lens cap deployed.

Lotta problems with lens caps.

For Venera 13 and 14, in addition to the cameras they sent a device to sample the Venusian "soil". Upon landing, the arm was supposed to swing down and analyze the surface it touched - it was a simple mechanism that couldn't be re-deployed or adjusted after the first go.

This time, both lens caps FINALLY ejected perfectly, and we were treated to these marvelous, eerie pictures of the Venus landscape:

However, when the Venera 14 soil sampler arm deployed, instead of sampling the Venus surface, it managed to swing down and land perfectly on….an ejected lens cap.

[nevermind-i-forgot-whats-that]

Sometimes, as much as I love internet communities and spaces, I really think a lot of people have spent so much time in sanitized, morally pure echo chambers that they lose sight of realism and life outside the internet.

I live in Alabama. My fiancée and I cannot hold hands down the street without fear of homophobic assholes. We have an abortion ban with no exceptions for rape or incest. We are one of the poorest states in the US with some of the lowest scores on metrics related to quality of life, including maternal mortality, healthcare, education, and violence. It’s not a coincidence that we are also one of the most red, one of the most Republican states in the Union. In 2017 the UN said the conditions in Alabama are similar to those in a third-world country.

Trump gave a voice to the most violently racist, sexist, xenophobic groups of people who, unfortunately for most of us in the Southern U.S., run our states and have only grown more powerful since his rise to power. The Deep South powers MAGA, and we all suffer for it.

We have no protections if they don’t come from the federal government.

I know people are suffering internationally and my heart is with them. However, this election is not just about foreign policy - we have millions of Americans right here at home living in danger, living in areas where they have been completely abandoned by their local leaders. We need this win.

No candidate is perfect, but for the first time in my voting lifetime I’m excited to vote. I’m excited for the Kamala Harris/Tim Walz ticket because they are addressing the issues close to home. They’re advocating for education as the ticket to a better life, but without the crippling student debt. They’re advocating for the right to love who you love without fear and with pride. Kamala has always been pro-LGBT+ and so has Tim. Again, if you’re queer in the South, we don’t have support unless it comes from the federal government, and we absolutely will not have support if the Republicans regain the White House.

Kamala speaks in length about re-entry programs to reduce recidivism and help people who have been arrested and imprisoned regain their lives. Tim Walz supported restoring voting rights to felons. In the South, you know who comprise the majority of felons? Members of minorities. It’s one of the major tools of systemic racism and mass disenfranchisement, and arguably the modern face of slavery (there are some fantastic documentaries and books that explain the connection between the post-Reconstruction South and the disproportionate rates of imprisonment for BIPOC). Having candidates who recognize this and want to restore the freedom and rights to people who have come into contact with the criminal justice system? And keep them from having to go to prison in the first place? That’s refreshing. That’s exciting.

I would *love* to live in a country where women’s rights are respected, where LGBT+ rights and protections are a given, where we treat former criminals and individuals experiencing mental health crises with respect and dignity. I would *love* to live in a country where education is free of religious interference and each and every citizen is entitled to a fair start and equal opportunities.

But I don’t live in that country. Millions and millions of Americans find their rights and freedoms up for debate and on the ballot.

Project 2025 poses the largest threat to the future of our democracy as we know it. We are being called to fight for the future of our country.

We have to put on our oxygen masks first before we can help others.

You don’t have moral purity when you wash your hands of the millions of us who are still fighting for own freedoms right here.

The reality is that a presidential candidate is a best fit, and not a perfect fit. But comparatively speaking? Kamala is pretty damn close.

[highraccoon]

i love that the state i live in has a program that allows both disabled people AND caregivers to fuck each other over. true equality

[highdramas]

what about a jack abbot x reader where doctor!reader is assaulted by a patient and struggles with the ptsd after? reader doesn’t have family or many friends in the area for support so jack steps in and offers them comfort? idk i love how you write jack and i love some angsty hurt/comfort

sleeping with the lights on | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

warnings: description of violence (gunshot wound), language, age gap (reader is 29, abbot is 48), ptsd, reader really goes through it but jack is there!

word count: 3k

summary: the unspeakable happens to you, and jack is there through it all.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. oooo anon, i loved this request! thank you! i hope i did it justice for you <3 this is not beta read so apologies for any typos! lmk if you'd be interested in a part two :)

--

you didn't intend to become an attending at PTMC once your residency was over. what you wanted was to find a position closer to home, but as fate would have it, the continual rejections wore you down. and with a junior attending position opening, it felt like it would be silly to let the opportunity pass you by. on the particularly bad nights, when you lay in bed with the lights on and hope that maybe nightmares won’t capture you that night, you ask yourself if you should’ve just held out for something else. but then you roll over and jack is there and you know you're where you should be.

the night it happened, you hadn’t slept well. you weren’t adjusting well to night shift but you were doing your best and you had so much caffeine in your system, your nerves already were fried. when you walked through the door before rounds, abbot took one look at you and said, “go home.”

“i’m fine,” you say without meeting his eye. if you weren’t fine, you would never forgive yourself. you didn’t put yourself through accelerated programs, didn’t pull countless all nighters, didn’t work your ass off to be an attending by twenty nine for nothing. no, you still had a chip on your shoulder. you wanted to prove that you could run with the big dogs.

“you look really fine,” dr. abbot says with a scoff, shaking his head, but not pressing further. you liked that about him. he was firm, but he knew when to back off and let you be.

but it’s only hours into your shift when it all changes– a rowdy patient. confused. you didn’t even have time to diagnose him before he went for the gun at his waist and blindly fired it, right at you. right into your arm, the bullet lodging within your muscle.

everything faded into a blur after that. the commotion. the pounding sound in your ears. you think you must have purposefully pushed it down. but you woke up slowly, with a wrapped arm, laying in an icu bed. with jack abbot in the seat beside you, his head hung, fingers laced in his lap.

when you started to move, he was up in an instant– not really sleeping, you figured. “hey, no quick movements. you’re okay.” you learned later that you were okay because jack sprang into action. you learned later just how bad it all could’ve been if jack wasn’t there, if jack wasn’t used to these kinds of wounds, if jack wasn’t your senior attending.

your throat was like sandpaper, and he passes you a water bottle from your bedside. a big bouquet of flowers sits on the table in your small room. “you got out of the OR couple hours ago,” he muses softly. as you awaken more, he divulges more details. “you’re okay. you’re gonna be alright. some nerve damage is the worst of it, but it’s not likely to be permanent. they got out all of the fragments from the bullet.”

jack sat with you until he had to go back on shift. you couldn’t ascertain why– you figured it must be his guilt. it had to be his guilt. but the days went on following the assault, and you were not perfectly alright.

and you didn’t know if you were ever going to be alright again.

when you were released to go home, you stood in the doorway of your apartment and you cried. not because you’d been shot at work. not because the use of your right arm was still spotty, at best. not because you didn’t know if this was something you could handle anymore.

you cried because being greeted with no one, nothing, rattled you. there was no one to fill your water bottle with the brita. there was no one to prop up your pillows. there was no one to make sure your pain meds were being taken at the appropriate times. no one to care for you.

you kept your injury from your friends and family back home. you didn’t know if it was wise, but it felt easier. if they didn’t know, then they couldn’t coax you back to the safe haven of familiarity. they couldn’t convince you to give up the thing that was your dream. you didn’t want to be living in what was once your childhood bedroom, which was now your dad’s office. you didn’t want to hear that you could find a great job locally. as much as you were unsure at first… you were glad that you stayed in pittsburgh. even with all of the difficulty that came with it.

the first day, you didn’t leave your bed. you kept your arm propped and you avoided answering any phone calls from home. you kept up with your friends through text the best you could– they’d notice if you weren’t responding. you watched all of the first season real housewives of salt lake city, and half of a season of survivor. you let your water bottle go empty. you let yourself wallow.

everyone from the hospital was being so lovely, but for some reason, you couldn’t find it within yourself to accept their charity. when they had asked if you had anyone to help you at home, you had assured them over and over again that, yes, you would be fine. jack had looked at you with a cocked head, but he didn’t push you.

on the second day, you mustered going to the couch. you propped your arm up and finished your season of survivor and doordashed the necessary provisions that you would need while you were still healing. you weren’t expecting anyone– when the door knock, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

when you checked through your peep hole, jack abbot was the last person that you were expecting to see.

his hands were full of reusable bags. his sunglasses were still on. his camouflage backpack was slung over one shoulder. he looked handsome, and strong.

opening your door for him, you don’t know what words to say, or what questions to ask. “will you let me in?” he asks.

you shift so that he can enter. he sets the bags down, takes his sunglasses and backpack off, and puts his warm hands on your arms. his right hand lives gently below your wrapped wound. he walks you back towards your couch. “what are you doing?” you finally find the competence to ask.

“from what i’ve gathered,” he says, gruff. “your family doesn’t live here. i don’t see you off gallivanting with friends. and when you lie, you chew on the inside of your cheek.” as he helps you settle back onto the couch, he adds, “i watched your tear your cheek up when dana asked if you have anyone to take care of you.”

despite everything he just said, how he stripped you down and saw you to the bone with minimal effort, all you could think of to ask was, “how do you know where i live?”

he smirks. “we do have an HR database, you know.”

“that has to violate my rights, somehow.”

jack huffs and stands up. “maybe. are you complaining?”

always the risk taker, you think. you give a meek shake of your head.

“now,” he rubs his hands together and leans down so that he’s on your level. “what can i do to help you?”

“abbot,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t have to do all of this. i know you feel bad, i know you’re just trying to be nice, but i’m fine.” you chew on the inside of your cheek without even thinking twice about it. “go home. i appreciate you. but you got off, what– five hours ago?”

“today’s my day off,” he counters.

“even more reason to go, be home. catch up on your sleep.”

he sighs. you can tell that you’ve exasperated him. “how about this. i’m gonna clean up your place. get a real meal made for you. and by the time i’ve done that, maybe you’ll cook up some ideas for what else i can do. capisce?”

you roll your eyes, but don’t argue.

for awhile, you watch him work. he does everything with such precision and decisiveness. he figures out the rhyme and reason of your apartment quickly, and the way he moves around, you would think that he has been living in your space, your orbit, for years. he maneuvers your apartment like he knows exactly how your brain works. hell– maybe he does.

at some point, you drift off to sleep. when you wake up, the glittering pittsburgh skyline winks back at you through your big window. jack is approaching, two plates in his hand. he sets them both down on the coffee table and smirks at you. “hey, sleeping beauty.”

you try not to read too much into his comment. “hi,” you begin to stretch, but that shooting pain goes up your arm and you wince, bringing it back down. “how long was i out?”

“about…” he looks at his watch. “four hours?”

“four hours?” you repeat. you can’t remember the last time you napped, period, let alone for more than thirty minutes. you crane your neck around, and you think your apartment may be the cleanest it’s ever been. even the dishes from the immaculate meal, if the smell is any indication, that abbot made for you.

“yeah. you needed it.” jack motions with his fingers. “sit up, and i’ll help you get all set up.”

you reluctantly do as he says. he adjusts the pillows until you’re still reclined, but able to eat comfortably. he sets the plate into your hands. “oh–” he turns and grabs your water bottle. you watch him walk off to the kitchen, retrieve the now-full brita from the fridge, and fill your water bottle to the brim. he walks back and places it on the coffee table.

jack sits on the couch at the opposite end. your feet barely graze his thigh. he takes his plate and turns the tv back on, survivor starting, right where you left off.

disbelief settles into you. you stare at him and he’s staring back. and it’s hard to explain this feeling in your chest, but it takes over you, and you find yourself fighting back tears. “thank– thank you. thank you.” you look down at the food he prepared and laughed. spaghetti and meatballs. you look back up, still blinking the tears away. “thank you.”

jack’s hand rests on your ankle, and he gives it a squeeze. “you’re welcome.” he eyes your plate. “go on. eat.”

–

jack didn’t leave before giving you a thorough check up, making sure all of your vitals were still good. when he seemed satisfied, he left, and told you to text him if you needed anything else. leftovers were in the fridge. he stocked you up with easy things to prepare. he made life easier, when it felt like it was at its worst.

jack checked on you regularly– sometimes dropping by, other times with a text or a phone call. he even kept you abreast with the goings on of the office, who was whispering about who, because he knew that you found amusement in that sort of thing. everyone took turns visiting you, making sure you were well cared for. it felt like there was usually at least one person from the hospital checking in on you per day, but none more than jack. not even dana.

“you know– abbot has been really worried about you,” garcia says as you two sip on tea she’d brewed for you and munch on sandwiches from your favorite spot. “when i came down after it all happened, i don’t think i’ve ever seen him like that.”

“like what?” you ask around a bite.

she shrugs. “i don’t know. he just looked… frantic. determined.” she mulls it over. “scared. we all were, but he was different.” she pauses and furrows her gaze at you. “are you two…?”

“no!” you laugh, shaking your head. “no, god no. he doesn’t think of me like that.”

“but you think of him like that?” she asks with a smirk.

you suppose you were caught, at that point, but you glower and change the subject.

for as sad as you were on that first day, things seem to have turned around. if nothing else… it was a good reminder that you weren’t alone. not really.

–

you were able to return to work after a month. your stomach was in knots– you’d had to sleep with the lights on since everything happened because you felt so… scared. loud noises scared you. when you closed your eyes at night to sleep, you would see the man’s face under those fluorescent lights. the unbridled fear in his eyes. you didn’t know what happened to him other than that, apparently, abbot and robby took care of it. you didn’t want to know anything else.

once again, standing in front of PTMC, you were forced to ask yourself if you were cut out for this. who was to say that something like that couldn’t happen again? it was out of the norm, even for a patient on healthcare worker assault, but it wasn’t impossible. what if you weren’t so lucky this time?

you let out a shaky breath and hold onto your bag a bit tighter. you were only working half days for two more weeks, and everyone tried to get you to agree to day shift, but you were adamant that it was important that you be on night shift.

that you be with abbot.

he met you outside. when he looked at you, you felt frozen in place. your hands shake and you cover your mouth with one, despite your trembling. jack looks at you, not with pity, but with understanding. and he pulls you in, gently, by your elbow, until you’re leaning into his chest and crying, and he’s murmuring to, “let it all out, i have you.”

you don’t go inside that day. you don’t go inside the next day when you try, either. but on the third day, when abbot meets you outside, the two of you walk in together.

the feeling that you’re being coddled is one that you cannot live with. you make it clear that you can handle it, that you want to be in the thick of it with everyone. when a GSW to the chest comes in, you try to pretend that it’s okay. you focus on the work and what you can do and even when you lose him, you keep yourself together. you last the full six hours and, yeah, you’re proud of yourself. you really are.

jack finds you at the end, on the roof. you knew that was sort of his thing, but it felt right– there was clarity, being so high up, and you wanted a taste of it. the sunrise was a picture of pinks, and you smiled at it. it felt like a warm hug, from an old friend.

“you did good today.” you look over your shoulder to see him approaching you. you sit on the ground, legs crossed, and he sits next to you. “i’m proud of you, doc.”

looking down at your lap, you smile, before your gaze slowly trails over to him. “i’m slower than normal,” you say. “and i don’t think my brain is fully working again, yet. but… i’m proud, too.”

“you should be.” jack looks out at the sunrise and chews on his lip. “you really scared me.”

surprised by his words, you look at him. “you said it yourself. it was a superficial wound. the fragments were concerning, sure, but there was never going to be a serious–”

“i don’t mean the injury,” jack says. “i mean you.”

“oh.” looking back down, you pick at your cuticle. “i’m fine.”

“you always say that, but i never believe you.” jack’s hand reaches out, and he takes yours, preventing you from bloodying your fingers with your nerves. he splays your fingers out, and it feels good in its simplicity. “i want you to tell me when it gets bad. trust me– it’s going to get bad. but it doesn’t have to stay bad,” you look up at him and he smiles when you make eye contact. “and it doesn’t have to be bad, alone.”

with a light laugh, you lean forward until your forehead rests on his shoulder. his hand runs through your hair, pushing back to kiss the crown of your head. then, tilting your chin up, your forehead. and then, your eyes are fluttering open and his are nearly lulled shut, but you nod your head once, and that’s all the permission that he needs.

skillfully, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb traces the bone and you grip his wrist as an anchor. he takes this seriously, you can tell– there’s determination in his hold, and you want him to feel yours, too. and when he finally leans in and kisses you, it feels like a garden of wildflowers has just bloomed in your heart.

jack, it seems, is good at everything. he’s good at cleaning your apartment and figuring out where things go. he’s good at cooking. he’s good at knowing what it is you need without saying it. he’s good at sewing you back together– literally. he’s good at being just what you need.

and he’s really, really good at kissing you.

jack abbot kisses like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. he kisses you like you’re slipping through his fingers, like you might fade away if he doesn’t. one moment, it’s just one tender hand on your jaw. the next, it’s both, cupping your face like you’re a precious jewel. he parts from you and examines your face carefully, his fingertips tracing your brow bone, down the bridge of your nose, the cupids bow of your lip.

you lean forward into him and he holds you. you feel your shoulders shake with a real, true cry. a full release. all of the fear, sorrow, grief, wanting, needing– you let it all out while jack holds you, nods his head, and says something so simple, but exactly what you need to hear– “i know, baby. i know.”

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

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

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

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

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[varpusvaras]

An AU in which Jason, upon returning to Gotham, gets really swept up into the whole crime lord thing, and never gets the time to go through with his revenge plan.

It starts small. He comes back and gets to work, and after a while, he has managed to carve out some of the crime from crime alley. This gets him noticed among some of the people there. One night, a group of thugs approach him, but instead of wanting to fight him, they want to work for him.

Jason, still fresh, with not much revenue coming for him yet, tells them that he isn't hiring because he cannot exactly pay them much. The thugs say that it doesn't matter, because they like what he is doing, and would like to be in on it anyway, and, well. If Jason has help managing other things, he can dedicate more time on his bigger plan, right?

Wrong. Things start to move much quicker now, and that means that more people come in and want to work for him. At this point Jason has money coming in, and he starts paying them, too, which makes more people come in, which in turn makes more money to come in as well. Jason can pay them more, and suddenly he notices a difference in many of the goons he has on his roster now. They seem happier. They joke more, many of them have better clothes on them, and they don't look so gaunt anymore, either.

Jason asks about it, once, and the goon tells him that they have had the money to buy actual groceries and new pair of boots, which makes living a lot more comfortable. They even got to buy their kid a new winter jacket! Now, if they save up a little bit, they will be able to get their kid new school books as well!

And Jason, Crime Alley boy Jason, who loved school and reading, feels his heart strings being violently yanked. Don't worry about the books, he says. I will take care of it.

At the end of the month, he has managed to organise a book delivery system for all the Crime Alley kids, where they get school books and picture books and science books about dinosaurs and angient Egypt and all that. He tells his goons that for every kid that stays in school for the semester, he will give them a bonus.

It works wonders. The amount of kids dropping out from school gets cut by 60 percent just during the first semester. The book system grows, and suddenly Jason finds himself pushing some money to get the old local library running again, to make things a bit easier. He even hires some people to run the system for him. Suddenly, he is like actually employing people. He needs an accountant. He hires one for himself, and then another one to run other funds.

Things just keep escalating after that. Local parent group starts to have meetings in the new library, and they put up a babysitting club and start a clothes exhange program as well, where you can bring all the clothes that are too small for you, and people get to take what they need home. A soup kitchen starts as well, first because the kids need snacks, and then it grows so much that Jason needs to find a place for it to run effectively and safely. Many local restaurants get into it as well, and their business starts to rise as well, because people who are fed and have warm clothes have more time and energy to seek for jobs. Many of them are still employed within just Crime Alley, though, because jobs elsewhere require an adress, and some people don't have those.

Jason thinks about himself, after his parents died, on the streets, trying to survive, and thinks never again. He tells his accountant to start budgeting for housing.

He needs to hire more people for it. He needs to run his crime empire, after all, he doesn't have the time for this.

He has so many people working for him now. There are a few thugs that were previously employed by other Gotham Rogues coming in as well, because they have heard good things about the Red Hood. The other Rogues are in and out of the prison or Arkham all the time and the pay isn't reliable and there is a high chance that you will get beaten up by one of the bats as well, and they don't really get offered medical services by their bosses, you know?

There's another thing. Jason now has to organize people to get first aid-training. And also get some sort of vaccination program going. And also get everybody dental.

It's all getting too much for him, really. He doesn't even have a high school diploma.

He mentions this to one of his goons one night, because they said that he looked stressed. Don't worry boss! The goon tells him. We will take care of things, if you want to go back to school! It would be a good example, too, for the older kids, who are still dropping out more than the little kids, you know?

So Jason goes back to school. God he loves school. He barely even thinks about his revenge plan anymore, because he is busy running his programs and studying and making plans with his goons.

He gets his diploma and then starts a community college so people can get degrees.

He then runs into an entirely new problem. The people look up to him, especially the kids. And now the kids also want to help him.

Jason, the second Robin, the bird with clipped wings, tells them no. Absolutely not. You are kids, go back to school, your bedtime is at nine.

He cannot control the older teens, though. They just tell him to fuck off and accept the help. Now train us, so we can start running the more specialized missions too. You can't be the only person jumping on rooftops. If you don't train us, we will do it anyway, dipshit. We ain't scared of you.

And suddenly Jason has his own vigilante team with him. His workers are unionizing. Some of them are actually running for the city council to get things addressed that need to be done the legal way. Crime rates have dropped by 70 percent around Crime Alley.

They can't really call it Crime Alley anymore, can they? It's Park Row again.

The bats are extremely confused by the new team. The Hoods, they call themselves. All of them with a red bat painted on their chests and fighting in an eerily similar manner to them.

Jason is not there on Thursdays. He is busy getting his English degree.

[charmedreincarnation]

Lucid Dreaming Challenge (Simple + Low Effort!)

I know it’s been a while, but I’m finally putting together a new lucid dreaming challenge :) This one will be super simple: no long routines, no heavy Law of Assumption work, and minimal time commitment.

Optional: Supplements that can help

(Not required, just an extra boost for those who are interested)

– Galantamine (can be found on Amazon): A supplement that increases acetylcholine levels, often used to enhance memory and awareness. Many lucid dreamers use it to increase dream recall and trigger lucidity.

– Huperzine A: Similar to galantamine, it boosts cognitive alertness and dream vividness.

– Valerian Root: Helps promote deep, restful sleep and can lead to more vivid dreams.

⚠️ Important: Do not take any supplements without doing your own research. Always check for allergies or pre-existing conditions, and if you’re under 18 or on medication, consult a doctor before trying anything new.

Step 1: Set a Reminder to Reality Check

Set an alarm to go off every hour during the day if you can. If that’s not realistic, just try to manually remember to check as often as possible.

Each time the alarm goes off, ask yourself:“Am I dreaming?” Look at your hands, check the time twice, or try to push your fingers through your palm. The goal is to make this a habit that carries over into your dreams.

Step 2: Choose One Focus Method Per Day

I’m leaving this part up to you. Every day, you’re going to pick one of the following four and do it. Don’t overthink it!! just stay consistent. Each one trains your subconscious in a different way, so whichever you choose will work as long as you’re intentional about it.

1. Listen to a lucid dreaming subliminal for 1–2 hours

This works by bypassing your conscious mind and feeding your subconscious direct commands. Most subliminals layer affirmations under music or white noise. your brain still picks them up. Over time, your subconscious starts acting on those affirmations, especially in dream states where the conscious mind is less dominant.

2. Write “I am lucid” 100 times

This is a form of subconscious imprinting. Writing something over and over builds a neural pathway especially when you stay present and focused. It’s old-school repetition, and it works because your brain registers written words as intentional. You’re building identity through muscle memory and thought pattern.

3. Listen to lucid dreaming affirmations out loud for 1–2 hours

Affirmations help rewire your inner dialogue. By listening consistently, especially in relaxed or passive states, your brain starts normalizing the idea that you lucid dream. The more familiar the idea becomes, the more likely your brain is to bring it into your dream world. You’ll start noticing cues and remembering dreams more vividly.

4. EFT tap while saying lucid dreaming affirmations

EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) works by stimulating acupressure points while saying affirmations out loud. It calms your nervous system and removes energetic resistance. If you’ve ever struggled with believing you can lucid dream or you get frustrated when you can’t, EFT helps remove that block while programming in new beliefs.

→ Pick one and stick to it daily. Don’t switch around too much. This part is less about intensity and more about repetition. You’re planting seeds in your subconscious your only job is to water them.

Step 3: audio aid

We’re going to be using two audios as we fall asleep, before we even get into the actual lucid dreaming method. Use them like a warm-up for your subconscious.

Put both in a playlist so they play back to back:

•The first audio is the shorter one; start with that.

•The second audio is 10 hours long, so it should be second. Just let it run while you sleep.

Step 4: The Main Method We’re Using – SSILD

I do have a full lucid dreaming guide, but for this challenge, we’re focusing on SSILD, which stands for Senses Initiated Lucid Dream. It’s one of the easiest and most effective methods out there, especially if you don’t want to rely on supplements or stress about doing too much.

SSILD works by tricking your brain into becoming hyper-aware during sleep. You cycle through your senses: sight, sound, and touch in a specific way that builds subconscious alertness without fully waking you up. When done right, this creates the perfect conditions for lucidity to happen naturally while dreaming.

How to Do SSILD (Quick Summary)

Wake up after 4–6 hours of sleep.

You want to be in a lighter sleep cycle. Set an alarm if needed.

Get up for 5–10 minutes. Just enough to become a little alert, but not fully awake. Don’t turn on bright lights. No scrolling.

Go back to bed and start your cycles:

Sight: Close your eyes and pretend to look at the darkness behind your eyelids. Don’t strain

Sound: Listen to the silence. Focus on any background noise or ringing in your ears.

Touch: Pay attention to how your body feels—your hands, your heartbeat, your bed, the weight of the blanket.

Then Cycle through sight → sound → touch slowly and calmly. One round takes about 20–30 seconds.

Do 3–5 rounds then let yourself drift off.

SSILD builds dream awareness by sharpening your internal senses right before sleep. You’re basically training your brain to “wake up” inside the dream without trying too hard. It’s subtle, easy, and works best when you’re relaxed and consistent.

This is the method we’ll be using throughout the challenge. You don’t have to do it perfectly just stay chill and curious. Your body will start catching on.

That’s it .Don’t overcomplicate it.You can mess up and still get results.

Even if you do it half-assed, it still gets your brain into that hypnagogic, in-between state. You might get false awakenings, random vivid dreams, or just lucid dreams straight up. From there, you can easily:

– Spawn someone (like a dream guide or character) and tell them to take you to your desired reality or the Void

– Make a portal or door in the dream, walk through it while setting your intention

– Affirm with your eyes closed in the dream: “I’m entering the Void,” “I shift easily,” etc

– Become lucid mid-dream and just let go and fall when you fully surrender or become weightless, you might drop right into the Void

– Ask a dream character to help you shift—they often know more than you think

– Recognize yourself in the dream (like seeing your reflection, name, or face) and use that moment to command a shift

Step 5: Succeed and send me your success story, because you deserve to be celebrated.

When it happens (and it will), I want to hear about it. Whether you had a false awakening, a full lucid dream, shifted, entered the Void, or just got closer than ever before (it counts).

You did that.You deserve to be seen for it.Send it to me so I can hype you up properly!!!!!

Now This isn’t supposed to be some intense, life-consuming thing. I know people have hard lives, stressful jobs, school, responsibilities. this challenge is not meant to add pressure. It’s supposed to be gentle. Supportive. Fun.

Everything you do here even the smallest effort is scientifically rewiring your brain. Your subconscious picks up on repetition, intention, and belief whether you’re trying hard or barely doing anything. So just let the world do its magic. Your only job is to show up with curiosity. And honestly, you can use lucid dreaming for anything not just shifting or entering the Void.

This isn’t a LOA-focused challenge but even Neville Goddard who’s like the blueprint for modern manifestation talked about lucid dreaming.

He told a story once about waking up with a literal object from a dream. He had a dream where he was in a desert and picked a branch off a bush. The next morning, he woke up in his bed with that exact same branch in his hand. Like physically. In real life.

He said he didn’t imagine it, it was actually there. And he used that moment as proof that consciousness isn’t limited to the physical world. What happens in dreams, in imagination, in the subconsciousit’s real. It can materialize. That’s how powerful your inner world is.

So yeah, lucid dreaming isn’t just some side hobby. It’s a doorway. A technique. A way to access higher states, shift realities, and literally bring things back with you.

You literally spend one-third of your life asleep. That’s decades of untapped time where your body rests, but your consciousness can still create. You don’t have to wait for your reality to change you can go into your dreams and become the change first. So yeah…go manifest. Shift. Tap into the Void. Do whatever you need to do. The world is already a dream. Life is already weird. You might as well use that to your advantage.