#so now i just try as often as possible to isolate myself in my room unless we're going out in public bc then i can sorta be myself

[hyperactivetransdrone]

jokes on you my mother said the 1 as long as im under 18 im her property and 2 as long as im under 18 privacy isnt a thing that exists and if she says it then it must be true!

(check my tags before saying im wrong plz)

hey parents: there is literally no non-abusive reason a person would want the ability to read someone’s emails, track their location, and go through their calls and text messages without their knowledge or consent.

[biscuitdolly]

୨ৎ absolute necessities .ᐟ

if you're trying to glow up, get healthier, etc, these are the very basics that you absolutely NEED to follow!

01, WATER .ᐟ

Staying hydrated is crucial for your health and wellbeing. While the recommended daily intake is 8 cups of water, you can gradually increase your consumption over a few weeks if that seems too overwhelming. Drinking enough water provides numerous benefits, from clearing skin and flushing out waste, to boosting exercise performance and supporting weight loss. Despite being the very essence that sustains life, water is often underappreciated.

02, FOOD .ᐟ

I used to skip breakfast, thinking it would help me lose weight. However, studies show that those who eat breakfast tend to lose more weight and keep it off longer. The truth is, food is incredibly important. It's best to regulate your eating habits by consuming at least 3 meals per day, even if they're only small portions. Some food is better than no food. If you want to go on a diet, that's fine! but make sure you research healthy dieting methods. At a minimum, eat one serving of fruits and vegetables daily, and try to increase that to five servings per day if possible. Proper nutrition is key for your overall health.

03, HOBBIES .ᐟ

i have this previous post regarding hobbies you could try! It's so important to find fun activities that you genuinely enjoy and look forward to doing. Hobbies add fun to your life and pose as a nice break from technology and the stress of work and school. They also greatly improve symptoms of depression and anxiety. You could do some physical activity, such as a sport you like, or something more calm and creative, like painting or writing.

04, SLEEP .ᐟ

a lot of people struggle to fall asleep at a decent time. Try getting ready for bed early. Personally, I tend to take off my make up and do my skincare immediately after i come home for school/work so i don't have to worry about it before bed.

Technology is probably your sleeping schedule's worst enemy, as the blue light from the screen keeps your brain awake, so try to pause screen-related activities at least an hour before bed. Also, try not to snack 2 - 4 hours before you go to sleep. This is because lying down makes it harder for your body to digest food, which can result in sleeplessness.

Forcing yourself to go to bed super early isn't helpful either. Like I've mentioned in my other points, take things slow and gradual!

05, SOCIALIZATION .ᐟ

Engaging in simple social interactions, such as conversing with family, seeing friends, or greeting people on the street, is incredibly important. Isolating yourself in your room all day accomplishes nothing.

There was a time when I dreaded spending time with friends, convinced I lacked the energy or mood. However, once I forced myself to make plans, I realized how much I genuinely enjoyed their company. Other people are what make life truly worthwhile. So why not reach out to a friend right now and invite them to hang out tomorrow?

06, ACTIVITY .ᐟ

you don't need an exercise routine if you don't want one, but simple physical activity is still a daily necessity! At least 30 minutes is recommended. Personally, i most enjoy plugging in my headphones and going on a walk around my neighbourhood for an hour or two.

07, SELF TALK .ᐟ

Arguably one of my most important points, quit the self-deprecating talk. You never realize how much it affects you until you quit it. Yes, you can absolutely get that assessment done. Yes, you are a likable and amazing person. Just keep affirming and reminding yourself that you are worthy, and you will attract so many good things. Trust me, it will help you so much in the long run.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Off Track” ~ Pt. 3 Franco x Reader

Warnings?: lowkey NSFW. 🙈

Summary: As Y/N and Lewis wait at a fancy restaurant, a lingering sense of guilt fills Y/N as she recalls her recent interactions with Franco. When Franco arrives and takes the seat beside her, the tension intensifies as he discreetly pushes boundaries, all while Lewis remains blissfully unaware.

WC: 1,700?

The restaurant was everything you’d expect when Lewis Hamilton chose a place for dinner. Elegant, dimly lit, with an ambiance that whispered luxury. The manager hovered nearby, discreet but clearly attentive, eyeing Lewis every so often to make sure his famous guest was happy. I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, yet Lewis seemed perfectly at ease, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of my hand as we waited.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, his gaze softening as he looked at me, and for a moment, I almost felt like we were just any other couple, sharing a quiet dinner together.

“Thank you,” I replied, offering him a small smile. His touch was comforting, familiar. But as he continued to hold my hand, a wave of guilt rippled through me. Because all I could think about was Franco.

The memory of Franco’s number saved in my phone burned in my mind, a constant reminder of how reckless I’d been. How reckless I felt, even now, sitting here with Lewis, knowing Franco was on his way. My heart raced, not with excitement from the man sitting across from me, but from the one I’d been secretly thinking about all night.

The door to the restaurant opened, and I looked up to see Franco walking in, scanning the room. He was dressed in a dark blazer, his usual race-day attire replaced with something refined, almost… I clear my throat. For a moment, I barely recognized him. I wasn’t the only one; Lewis looked surprised as well, clearly impressed.

Franco’s gaze landed on us, and his eyes lingered on me, a hint of something unspoken flashing in his expression. He looked me up and down, and I could tell he’d noticed the tightness of my dress, the way it hugged my curves. It was a thrill I couldn’t deny, the subtle heat in his gaze sending shivers down my spine.

Lewis stood, breaking the moment. He reached out, pulling Franco into a hug, patting him on the back. “You clean up well, Colapinto,” he said with a grin. “Almost didn’t recognize you.”

Franco laughed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride. “Had to make an effort, you know? Can’t show up underdressed when I’m having dinner with Lewis Hamilton.”

He sounded so sincere, almost boyish in his admiration, and I felt my heart twist as I watched him. But then he turned, slipping into the seat next to me without hesitation, his arm brushing against mine as he sat down. I froze, my mind racing. Of all the seats, he chose the one right next to me… while Lewis was sitting across the table. I told myself I was reading too much into it; it was just a seat, after all. But the thrill that shot through me told me otherwise.

“How are you?” Franco asks me as he looks at me.

“Good… thanks…” I say softly, trying not to look too excited to be next to him.

“Pareces hambriento.. (You look hungry..)” he teases me.

My face heats up at the possibility of innuendo. I’m just glad Lewis doesn’t know Spanish.

As the evening went on, Lewis and Franco quickly fell into a lively conversation, discussing the chaotic race, upcoming circuits, and, of course, laughing over stories involving Lando Norris. They were both completely absorbed, trading jokes and stories, their laughter filling the air between sips of wine.

I smiled, laughed when appropriate, but I couldn’t shake the growing sense of isolation. Here I was, sitting between two men who commanded so much of my attention, yet I felt… invisible. Everything always seemed to circle back to Lewis—his stories, his accomplishments, his world. Even Franco, the one person I thought might make me feel seen tonight, was fully wrapped up in Lewis’s orbit.

I swirled my wine, barely listening to their conversation, my mind wandering back to that spark, that thrilling energy that Franco had brought into my life. It was ridiculous, of course, but I felt as if I were drifting further and further into the background, the invisible shadow beside the legend.

Just as I was about to retreat fully into my thoughts, I felt something warm against my thigh. My eyes widened slightly, my heart stopping as I realized it was Franco’s hand. He was sitting there, fully engaged in a story Lewis was telling about his charity work, but his hand was slowly inching its way up my leg, hidden beneath the tablecloth.

I glanced over at Lewis, my pulse quickening, but he was completely oblivious, too busy discussing his dog Roscoe to notice what was happening under the table. Meanwhile, Franco’s hand moved higher, his fingers pressing gently against my thigh, edging up with a confidence that made my skin tingle.

I shot Franco a quick look, and though he didn’t turn to meet my gaze, I saw the playful glint in his eyes as he continued to nod along to Lewis’s story. His fingers slid higher, grazing just beneath the hem of my dress, teasing me with every slight movement.

My face grew warm, my breathing shallow as I tried to keep my composure. My hand slipped beneath the table, gently covering his, letting him know that I wasn’t pulling away. His fingers stilled for a moment, then continued their slow, steady journey upward, venturing dangerously close to the edge of my lacy underwear.

It was maddening, the way he managed to act so composed, all while his hand sent sparks through me with every inch it climbed. I could barely focus on Lewis’s words, every nerve in my body focused on the touch, the thrill of Franco’s forbidden hand under the table.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice broke through my haze, snapping me back to reality. I blinked, looking up to find him smiling softly at me.

“Hmm?” I tried to sound casual, forcing a smile that I hoped didn’t look as strained as it felt.

“I was just saying,” he continued, squeezing my hand across the table, “I’m really glad you’re here with me tonight. It means a lot.”

My heart ached at his words, but the guilt only seemed to heighten the thrill of Franco’s touch. I managed a small smile, nodding. “I’m glad too, Lewis.”

And yet, beneath the table, Franco’s hand was a constant reminder that my thoughts were nowhere near as innocent as I tried to pretend. He was so close now, fingers brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of my thigh, his touch electrifying, as if he knew exactly how to drive me crazy without saying a single word.

Lewis turned back to Franco, starting on another story, and I let out a shaky breath, unable to focus on anything except the hand beneath the table and the butterflies raging in my stomach.

Franco’s fingers paused for a moment, and I dared a quick glance at him. His gaze flicked to me briefly, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t need to say anything; the glint in his eyes was enough. He was enjoying this, the thrill of pushing boundaries, of playing with fire. And as much as I hated to admit it, so was I.

With a soft sigh, I leaned back in my chair, still holding Lewis’s hand on top of the table, while Franco’s hand continued its teasing journey beneath. It was dangerous, reckless, but in that dimly lit restaurant, surrounded by laughter and wine, I let myself indulge in the thrill of it.

Just when I thought he would stop, his fingers brushed the edge of my lacy thong, hooking around the band with a boldness that sent a jolt straight through me.

I sucked in a breath, the air catching in my throat as I shifted slightly, acutely aware of every inch of him against me, his fingers toying with the delicate lace, pushing boundaries I hadn't even imagined crossing tonight. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind spinning, trying to make sense of the sudden intensity of it all.

Lewis's voice cut through the haze, snapping me back to the present. "Hey, Y/N, remind me….. how's your Spanish these days? I could barely say 'hello' when I met Franco."

I forced myself to look at Lewis, blinking away the heat that had flooded my cheeks.

"Oh, uh... it's... it's okay," I stammered, my voice wavering just slightly. "I've... picked up a few things."

Franco's fingers pressed gently against my skin, just enough to send a wave of warmth flooding through me. He started tugging it down slowly, and I shifted in my seat, unsure of what was happening. As I lifted my hips slightly to help him .

I struggled to keep my voice steady, to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks as I met Lewis's gaze, feeling my face grow hotter with every second. My hand slipped from Lewis’s, my fingers tingling as I freed myself from his gentle grasp.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to my inner turmoil. "I should get you to teach me sometime," he said with a grin. "Maybe then I won't butcher it every time I try to say something to Franco."

"Yeah... maybe," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried to muster a casual smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the way my stomach was doing backflips, every nerve ending focused on Franco's hand, his fingers tugging at my panties, his intentions clear.

Lewis looks down at his phone as my heart races. I feel the delicate fabric slide down my legs. I shift in my seat, lifting my hips slightly to assist him. The cool air hitting my bare skin makes me shiver with anticipation.

I noticed Franco discreetly tucking my thong into his pocket, and my eyes widened slightly. The realization that he had taken such a personal item sent a thrill through me, and I found myself even more drawn to him. I knew I should feel guilty, but all I could think about was how much I wanted Franco to touch me again.

Franco leaned back slightly, his face calm and composed, but his eyes held that same teasing glint, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips. He didn't look at me, but he didn't need to. The unspoken tension between us was enough, a silent promise hanging in the air, leaving me breathless and wanting.

The conversation continued around me, but I could barely focus, my mind swirling with the forbidden thrill of Franco's touch and the tangled emotions it stirred within me.

—————————————————

Okay! That was kinda ridiculous, but I just wanted to write it 🙈🙈🙈

I know I’m lowkey edging you guys but … relax I’ll put some smut in here hehe.

I was originally aiming for this series to have more fluff I think? Maybe mixture of lowkey smut and fluff idk…

Idk yet though… I can’t decide 😭.

Lmk in the comments 😇

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 25

SURGERY stitches | being monitored / Haunted House

Continued from day 13.

Yuu was wide awake, alert to every creak and groan the old house made as they lay in bed, propped up on pillows with their arm bandaged tightly.

The servants liked scurrying around as if they were rats or squirrels, and were currently keen on making as little eye contact with Yuu as possible right now.

As if they weren't the head servant, and so technically their boss. It was the influence of the master of the house, who was Yuu's boss, and had given then all strict instructions to keep them locked in this room, to bring them anything they asked for (except for work), and to not let them out.

It was maddeningly boring. All of their friendships, the hard-fought and sorely won respect they'd earned in the six months they'd been here had vanished in the face of a moonstruck man who so rarely flexed the nature of his superior status in the household, except for Yuu.

No one would help them. Ace and Deuce, the mortal servants Yuu had hired, had been carefully instructed not to enter this wing, and the other servants could teleport, eliminating the chance Yuu could simply force their way out when someone opened the door.

Having used up all their leads with Sebek, they instead called upon a different one of their coworkers.

"Silver!" they hissed into the darkness, practicing the words they wanted to say in their head.

He appeared with supernatural speed, but by now, it didn't frighten Yuu. "May I fetch you something?" he asked, eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Yes," they said, trying to make their voice sound as sugary-sweet as possible. "The key to this room!"

"I'm sorry," he replied without much emotion, clearly coached. "You know why you cannot leave."

"The surgery was on my hand! One hand! All of my other limbs are fine!"

"I- I am aware," he said, his composure breaking a bit. Good, he was recognizing the absurdity of the situation.

"I just wanna go downstairs," pleaded Yuu. "I can feed myself now. I don't need any more rest"

"Oh, you're hungry?" said Silver, grabbing onto any detail he could. "Let me make you a tray."

"Wait, no!" But Silver was already gone.

"Arrgh!" shouted Yuu.

They got up and used their good hand to lower the blinds, and now, most of the light in the room was gone, and then, thought about him as hard as they could.

He hadn't answered their calls all day, and it was really starting to hurt their feelings. The least- the very least! He could do was keep them entertained.

Instead, Lilia had explained that Tsunotaro would be out with him on some expedition, and had vanished without another word.

Yuu turned to face the side of the bed that had grown heavy, seeing nothing but another pair of glowing eyes in the shadows.

"Hello," the pair of eyes said smoothly. "Are you enjoying your rest?"

"Let me out of here!" exclaimed Yuu, not messing around with any pleasantries.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said placatingly. "Why don't you rest a little more?"

The voice and eyes belonged to the master of the house and their current jailer, Tsunotaro.

"No! I'm sick of resting. Where have you been? Why can't I leave?" they said, their tone coming off more desperate than they'd intended.

Yuu cared. A lot. Their relationship started and stopped at his whim, or so it often seemed, and it was wearing fast on Yuu.

He blinked at them, and Yuu felt embarrassment rising in their cheeks.

They opened their mouth to play that statement down a bit, but Tsunotaro beat them.

"I apologize," he said. "I had not realized I was isolating you so much. Lilia may have taken my orders too seriously..."

"Don't blame this on him! You were the one that was gone!"

Tsunotaro pondered this for a moment.

"You're right," he said, and before they knew it, he was dragging them onto the bed.

"Allow me to make up for it now," he said, gazing into their eyes with an intensity that shook them.

He brought their bandaged hand up to his lips, and gave it a soft kiss. "How are you feeling, by the way? I know surgery can be intense on the human body."

"I'm feeling ok," they said, a quake in their voice.

Thank goodness they weren't standing.

"Good. now-"

Just then, Yuu heard Silver appear behind them.

"Ah, hello Master. I had not heard you return, am I interrupting something?" he said.

Yuu tried to jump away from Tsunotaro, not knowing if he wanted everyone to know of their relationship, but he wouldn't let them go.

"Thank you for bringing us food, Silver," said Tsunotaro, leaning closer against Yuu. "Set it down on the nightstand."

Silver nodded, and did just that before vanishing.

"Now, come," said Tsunotaro, summoning the tray to his lap. "Let us eat. You need as much of your strength as possible, for your delicate nerves to stitch themselves back together."

Tsunotaro held up a cracker, with a thin slice of preserved meat and bright orange jelly spread across.

"Open up," he said. "You aren't quite healed enough to feel yourself with such minute movements such as these, so I will do it for you."

Yuu could do nothing but comply.

[multidimensionalguidance]

SR Chart in-depth Analysis Part 2 🔒

Here’s the continuation and final part of my SR chart analysis and predictions, which has been very fun because its the few moments where I can see myself from a different perspective, and just focus on the information I can decode without any room for judgment.

Taurus 8th house: my sense of security will depend a lot on how much I can rely on indulging in delicacies within my own hidden safe space. Finances are merged or shared within close relationships. Partners resources become my own. Inflexible or hard-headed when it comes to the type of comfort or luxury I expect to enjoy. A big focus in other people’s resources becoming my own somehow. The ruler of this house sits in the 12H, which means that the money I receive or try to keep hidden will be used towards spirituality, foreign settlement, expenditure, bed pleasures, self care, health, work clothes, skincare, and extravagant procedures to enhance my natural beauty, which could be to an almost detrimental or excessive level since Venus is debilitated.

Gemini 9th house: communications in general will be towards philosophy, higher knowledge, luck, feeling blessed, traveling, foreigners, teachers, spiritual guides, etc. It is also likely I will be speaking a foreign language quite often. Lots of short distance traveling to foreigners places. These conversations and type of mindset will influence my finances, bet it due to new perspectives or simply luck allowing me monetize those newly acquired learnings and skills. That would particularly be due to 9H ruler sitting in the 2nd house. I’ve read before that Mercury in the 2nd denotes above average intelligence, so perhaps that will also influence on how I’ll be able to increase my resources.

Cancer 10th house: this year people will perceive me as very nurturing, mother-like, soft, intuitive, and like wife material (particularly bc that asteroid Bried is conj the MC). It is likely that I will be receiving lots of attention because that’s what luminaries do, they put a spotlight, which is career/public image for me. My work environment could be spent in a space that IS or feels like home. There could be discomfort from having matters that are private exposed to the public, so I might have to deal with some of that as well. The ruler of this house sits in the 5H, so I might be doing creative work online, related to children, with romantic partner, in a fun way.

Leo 11th house: my social circle will be full of creatives (artists, leaders, performers, teachers, government workers etc), royal-like people or individuals with a certain amount of influence. My goals, social media image, and gains/income will be focused towards notoriety, fame, child-like joy, romance, appearance, etc. On top of that, the ruler of the house sits in the 2H, so those gains/goals/social media image will also influenced my resources and finances.

Virgo 12th house: with Venus sitting there and it being the debilitation, I’m led to thinking that the possible negative significations of this placement will be experienced in isolation, during my daily night routine or in foreign places. The difficulty with Venus in Virgo is how overly critical and judgy it is towards itself and others. There is a difficulty with fully enjoying the experience of love and beauty because you’re too busy thinking of how things can be better or improved. Now, on the other hand, no one does acts of service and has a deeper awareness of health and beauty than this sign. They give and give happily to those they commit to or love in general. I will probably be enjoying a bit of those sides during this year.

Thank you for reading this far! I’m excited to check this during December and doing a sort of checklist of what I predicted accurately + everything else that will definitely happen without my awareness.

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

cw: vent as long as should be expected from reddit refugee, r*ssian psychiatry being as dehumanizing as every other things in this country, english at the level of a non-native who got lost in reality while writing at least twice;

massive tw: forced hospitalization, suicidal troughs mention, abusive therapist and cruelty i suppose?

i don't even want to start it with "NPD culture is" cause i honestly (desperately) want that no one here will relate with my experience. i also will completely understand if this rant will not be posted, it's long, terrible, it's about may be specific to my doomed country's doomed medical care only. even i myself wish to having no idea about it. i not even goin to be anon here since i have a little fate in this end up posted.

well, NPD culture is dissociating each time anyone share they ideas about how often they supposed (they always supposed that is "never") pwNPD are searching for a therapy. i was the one who did search indeed and found out unpleasant fact that not only i won't get any help, but the one who should help me eventually will try to utterly destroy me. it's was what happened last time, i believe now i could have PTSD and here's the story.

after some dramatic events my npd symptoms slowly started getting much worse. i won’t describe everything, it’s enough to mention that during the year since the dramatic events™, i almost completely isolated myself from society and almost stopped doing anything for my studies, trying to avoid negativity from people around me. i tried seeing a counselor in college to address at least this issue, i can't remember anything about her other than she blamed me for my "parenting stance" and kept telling me i didn't want to work on myself and just wanted to blame everyone but myself for my condition. i tried to visit another psychologist. and another. while i was spending my last money trying to find a specialist who would at least hear me, it was getting worse, maybe because of the my belief that everyone would always be against me. when idea about getting lost in a river nearby my house became more common through than "go brush your teeth" i went to a town psychoneurological dispensary... i should have go to work spending the rest of my vitality to pay for another attempt at private psychotherapy.

just going to the dispensary was humiliating, and by that time I had already lost the idea that it was shameful to seek help. i had to describe troubling symptoms to the psychiatrist on duty... standing in a room full of strangers, only some of whom were medical staff, and the psychiatrist himself looked at me like i was a maggot. and I had to go through this procedure twice, because the first time, “I’m constantly thinking about throwing myself into the river,” apparently they didn’t hear. when i finally got to the dispensary, all those tests that were done to assess my sanity.... the wording of the questions was humiliating to say the least, and even with my belief that i was the most honest person in the world, i admit that lied on that tests. again, no one listened to me, patients in general were given as little attention as possible. when one of the conversations with the therapist she touched on a topic that was painful for me and i couldn't hold back my tears, i was threatened that if I didn't pull myself together i would be sent to a hospital. which exactly what happened.

this was supposed to be the longest part of the story, but it's physically hard for me to describe what happened, so I'm just listing it. i was not allowed to contact my family, to take any things, at least clothes from home, they just put me in an ambulance and took me to this prison. they took my phone and I didn't see any of my stuff until I was discharged. when they brought me in, they injected me with something and did it for the three days i was in the isolation ward where they put all the newcomers. later on, they transferred me to a general ward and again every day they gave me a hell of a lot of medicine. I don't know what they were. i know how it sounds but alas this is how russian psychiatric hospitals work and this horror can be confirmed in the stories of other... survivors? we were not allowed outside (because of covid they say), there were no family visitation days, the only thing we did was to walk along the corridor along the wards. no privacy, no emotions allowed, YOU a nothing.

i spent a month there. for crying. i could have gone longer, but I was able to convince the superintendent at the weekly meeting that i could be returned to the care of the dispensary. when I left, i was told that my good behavior would get me bipolar instead of schizoaffective disorder so they "wouldn't ruin my life." what does schizoaffective disorder have to do with anything? ut's what in this country they like to diagnose when they don't know what to diagnose. doesn't really matter if you fit criteria. i didn't fit any of them, so thanks for... not ruining my life i guess.

it took me two years to recover from all this. i think i'm mostly fine as long as no one mentions how bad narcissists are for not going to therapy. like even though I know I need therapy, i can't bring myself to do it. i know there must be normal therapists, but I feel too deep a dislike and distrust of people in this profession. you know... it could cost me life?

.

[fandom-space-princess]

An Audacious Undertaking, Even to God

Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries

Rating: Gen

Relationships: SecUnit 1 & SecUnit 2 & SecUnit 3

Additional tags: Book 5: Network Effect, Book 7: System Collapse, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Queerplatonic Relationships, 1 & 2 do still die but not for very long, 3 needs its friends back :( , studies in construct relations

Chapter: 3/?

Read chapter below, or on AO3.

——————————

In the CR-standard hour it has taken Perihelion to return to the space dock, the clients have been brought out of the shuttle and relocated into quarantine. The transport’s humans have returned to their personal quarters, which are at present disconnected from the ship feed and insulated from its passive and active scanning functions. My own clients are in a room which appears to serve as a temporary dormitory on a recurring basis, and which is similarly isolated from connectivity.

I am not able to contribute meaningfully to this effort. Humans often seem to move slowly in comparison to the speed with which I process my surroundings, but at the moment, my performance is still suffering. Arada and Ratthi each individually advised that I remain as far from the explorer’s retrieved crew as possible.

(Ratthi: “If they ask, it’ll be easier to convince them we don’t know what happened to you if you haven’t been helping us move them bodily around the ship.”

Arada: “We can hope. You think they’ll remember who rescued them?”

Amena: “They might not. Eletra’s memory is still pretty messed up. We can play it off like one of us pulled them out, maybe, if it comes up? Say we went over ourselves, had to bring their shuttle back with us.”

Arada: “Believability concerns aside, encouraging someone to question their own mind is deeply unethical.”

Ratthi: “We can’t just let them take it back, either.”)

The gurney carrying 001’s body has vanished deeper into the ship. I do not know where it has gone, or what has been done with it. The thought of asking inspires contradictory sensations deep within my organic components. I want to ask. I do not, perhaps, want to know.

And so I do not ask.

I have new responsibilities to focus on, and this eases the feeling somewhat. We have come back to the space dock to complete the recovery of Perihelion’s crew. The tenor of its interactions both in the public feed and with myself privately has become perceptibly different since we arrived. It is still very angry. But that anger is now pointed in a direction that does not appear to include me, and when it does speak to me it is with an air of calculated consideration.

We have a plan for the retrieval of Murderbot 1.0—this is incorrect. We have a plan for the retrieval of the being which its clients (and Perihelion, when speaking aloud) refer to as “SecUnit.” I only partially understand why they do this. The memories shared with me by 2.0 included the practice, but did not explain its source; I know only that it prefers this state of affairs to the actionable alternatives. This explains the indirect phrasing of Amena’s initial query regarding my own name.

(“Three” does and does not feel like a name that might belong to me. When I attempt to imagine what I might like to be called that is more appropriate, however, my internal processes return a pointer variable. I already know what files I will find stored at that location, so I have been trying not to think about it.)

Our other retrieval mission is also set to commence shortly. After Perihelion revealed that it had refitted its pathfinders with explosive ordnance, Ratthi expressed a desire to inspect the one he is to escort planetside. As he has no specific training in such matters, he is consulting over the comm with one of Perihelion’s humans (feedID(“Tarik”), gender(male/masc)) from his position onboard the currently-ascending drop box. Arada is preparing the other shuttle. Neither of them have requested my help with these processes.

As of 3.77 minutes ago, Amena has cycled back through the transport’s main airlock and re-entered the space dock. According to our earlier conversation with the crew, those who are returning to the ship are in need of medical care, and so Amena has accompanied a drone gurney across to the drop box foyer with emergency supplies in the event they are deemed necessary. She stated that my presence would be welcome, should I care to accompany her.

It was not a command, and also not a question. I am no longer required to respond to either commands or questions. But in the absence of compulsion and protocol I find I have little guidance for what constitutes an acceptable response to many of the things that have been said to me. After the not-command-and-not-question, there passed a prolonged delay during which Amena stood patiently, looking past my left shoulder. My buffer eventually produced, “I’m sorry, I don’t have that information.” She shrugged one shoulder, smiled, nodded, and continued on to the airlock.

And now I am standing outside the main shuttle dock, staring at the wall. I do not have time to assist Amena before we depart for the planet. I tell myself this, once.

But…

No. It would compromise my ability to participate in this retrieval.

But.

The transport is watching me, silently, in the feed. Then it says: I can ask her to get it for you. She would agree without reservation.

I have already proven myself unable to perform my function once. The probability of repeating this outcome feels unacceptably high, given my current goals.

I send: Query: you examined it?

Perihelion: I reviewed SecUnit’s findings and performed my own additional scans, yes.

My first failure nearly cost me personal functionality, which I am willing to risk, and file integrity, which I am not. Do you believe it is serviceable?

Perihelion: Doubtful, but I would require more data to be certain.

I no longer know what responsibilities I owe to this situation, or… to them. 001’s body is somewhere nearby, damaged more comprehensively that I have ever seen. And 002’s body is on the other side of these walls, via a door which I am currently choosing not to pass through. When I had no ability to decide where I went or why, they were always nearby. Now that I have the power to make such a choice, I cannot go to them, because—at least for the moment—they exist only in me.

If I do not bring 002’s platform aboard, what will happen to it? Will the transport’s crew salvage it? Will the hostile humans take it?

If it is within mission bounds… please. And… I hesitate. This is difficult to ask. Resource allocation request: local mirror personal storage.

Perihelion’s presence withdraws almost entirely. For a moment I wonder if I have caused offense, but then it returns. It has granted me administrative access to a small partition of its onboard memory. The allocated space is a fraction of a sliver of its resources, but it is enough—more than enough. It has given me a place to copy my files.

The duplication process runs, and I examine the backups for imperfections or data loss. Perihelion watches me work. When they are in place a heaviness lifts from my organic components. The muscles in my chest and back loosen. I tell it: Thank you.

If 002’s platform is brought aboard, I do not know if it will be repairable. I do not know if I will be able to restore it. When I consider this my performance reliability begins to drop, and so I am trying not to consider it. I need to maintain optimal functionality for the task ahead of me.

2.0 sent me here to help. I do not believe it anticipated that I would do so in exactly this way, but I do not think it would be disappointed. Its desire for the secure retrieval of its original iteration and platform is obvious. And it offered me governance of myself when it had no need to do so—when it might in fact have been less of a risk not to do so. I am not unaware of the fact that it could have chosen to hack me. It did not. What it offered instead has amounted to an overture of trust, of friendship.

I see no reason the gesture should not be reciprocal.

I may not be able to restore 001 and 002, and this thought causes me more pain than any other. But I still have my function. For these humans who offer their kindness so freely, for the unknowable and terrifying transport, for 2.0—I will try to save what can still be saved.

——————————

[Before]

SecUnit-003: Alert, priority designation: URGENT. System acknowledge.

SecSystem: …

SecUnit-003: Shipwide alert. Priority designation: URGENT. System acknowledge.

SecSystem: …

I don’t think it can hear me.

SecUnit-003: Request command belay. Request command reissue. System acknowledge.

SecSystem: …

The bot pilot has been deleted. HubSystem is unresponsive. I do not know who or what is piloting the ship. My messages are pinging… something. I am receiving an echo from the remnants of SecSystem, but it is as though I am shouting into a cavern, hoping to receive a response from my own voice.

And I cannot move.

SecUnit-003: Initiate buffer purge.

SecUnit-003: Request command reissue.

SecUnit-003: Request command belay.

SecUnit-003: System acknowledge.

Nothing.

Some portion of the bridge crew remains alive in the lounge behind me—my continued compliance with my governance protocols is proof of this. What state they may be in is currently unknown. I was not able to aid in their defense. Before I even reached the bridge, SecSystem had been remotely instructed to cycle its command codes, and I was ordered into stand-down mode. From my position in the hallway, I watched the hostile boarding party overtake the bridge in coordination with the tactical team. As 001 had reported, they appeared compromised, operating under a compulsion that I could neither interpret nor offer assistance with.

The intruders spent several minutes out of my line of sight. SecSystem’s access to the bridge cameras was cut off. There was an exchange of energy weapons fire, then silence. When next one of the compromised tactical team emerged into the hallway, it was to order me to follow them back to the bridge and collect the bodies of the crew. They had been rendered physically immobile via mechanisms crudely spliced into their musculature, and two of them had sustained burns and contusions, but they were otherwise unharmed. I was instructed to deposit them in the lounge nearby, and then return to standby mode.

In the interim the situation has further deteriorated. At one point contact with a network-external ship was made. This resulted in some number of the hostiles departing the explorer, but they have been replaced by humans who are now in a situation identical to that of my own clients. I have tracked our movements through this system to the best of my ability, but with a hostile control system in place and SecSystem all but stripped of functionality, my inputs have shrunk to only my physical sensor arrays. The feeling is claustrophobic.

Eventually, I cease my attempts to ping SecSystem. More than a day has passed since the initial incursion, and I have disabled my olfactory sensors entirely. Between the unnatural cloying organic scent given off by the intruders and the onset of decay of the still-unattended corpses, the ship smells unpleasantly of death. There is no indication that either the remaining crew or the hostiles are likely to organize themselves well enough to find a use for me anytime soon. I cannot raise any of the supply team on broad-range comms. I have attempted many times to reinitialize 001, to contact 002, each time without success. I can do nothing but wait, and so I do.

But then—

It is unremarkable, at first. A maintenance program within SecSystem claims a fragment of its processing space, and it vanishes from my view. Ordinarily this would be so routine as to be unworthy of notice, but nothing about these circumstances is ordinary. I watch intently in the ship feed. Tiny eddies disturb what has been, until now, placid code. The hostileControlSystem that has installed itself in the ship could be responsible, but thus far it has not been successful in making use of what remains of SecSystem, and nothing it has otherwise done has been subtle.

Then, out of nowhere: System System: Unit Acknowledge.

And the reconfiguration of my existence begins.

——————————

[littlegreenwyvy]

If you do not wear a facemask indoors

then go fuck yourself, cuz this is your fault 💚

This goes for my friends too btw sorry 💚

Actually tbh not all that sorry

I'm getting to the point where I'm willing to lose friends over whether or not you voluntarily protect your community in ways that will tangibly and directly help to prevent a fatal effect on people like me. Frankly if you're friends with me and you don't do this then please don't be friends with me, because like you're basically making yourself a danger for me to be around anyway. If I have to worry about how many people YOU'VE been in contact with IN ADDITION to how many people I'm in contact with myself, and all the people THEY'RE in contact with, and the likelihood that any of us or them have been in contact with someone who may or may not have had or been exposed to someone who had covid... I'm just gonna not bother. We will never meet, ever. And that's what my life has been like. I haven't seen my friends. I've barely seen some of my own family members who I LIVE with, because of how often we have to isolate IN OUR OWN HOMES from each other after a possible exposure. Remember isolating? It's that thing you do when either you're sick OR YOU DON'T KNOW YET IF YOU'VE CAUGHT THE SICK FROM SOMEONE.

Btw since nobody can afford to regularly test anymore (not that people stay home anyway even when they are sick), any stranger with a cough or sniffle you're 'in contact' (i.e. in the same room/vehicle/space) with is essentially a possible covid contact (and that's not even taking into account how many people go around with NO acute symptoms at all, or just really bizarre, seemingly unrelated ones, or who mistake then for migraines or allergies or something else).

But to get back on track, I don't really wanna be friends with you if after 4 years of all this, knowing everything we know now, after all that the world has been through, you STILL don't bother to take ANY precautions.

If you don't wear a mask nowadays, why not?

Do you just not care? I wish I had that luxury.

Do you think 'why bother'? It's because we're super fucked if nobody does, so start with yourself.

Are you just content with the risk of infecting someone else? Fuck you if so.

Do you think infections are GOOD? You couldn't be more wrong.

Do you think it's not 'bad enough' to warrant taking a PREVENTATIVE MEASURE? It's called PREVENTATIVE for a reason.

Do you genuinely just not know how prevalent and SERIOUSLY BAD covid still is?? Learn how to listen to disabled people.

Whatever the reason, I'M not content with the risk. I don't know your situation, friend who is reading this, but the risk is significantly higher for ME than it is for 'healthy' people! And I'm sick of the entire world deciding FOR me what the 'comfort level' with covid should be, based on the people who are statistically less likely to die from it. (The objectively correct answer is still SUPER SERIOUSLY UNCOMFORTABLE by the way. You're straight up, plain old wrong if you think otherwise, by the way. Covid is ALWAYS a risk, no matter how 'healthy' or 'low risk' you are.)

So in short my friends, even if you're not going to interact with me specifically, if you're also not implicitly and automatically trying to protect the people who ARE around you with some high-covid-risk factor, then that's just kinda fucked up in my opinion.

You're contagious for several days before AND after your symptoms start and end. You're contagious even if you have NO symptoms. Just wear the mask...! It won't kill you to wear one, but it very well may kill someone you know, if you don't.

[timeoverload]

I don't understand why you are so afraid of me. I don't think I am very scary. I try to be welcoming but maybe I'm not doing a very good job. I know I have hurt your feelings in the past and I think that was due to my lack of understanding. I know I'm not a perfect person. I'm sorry for that and I never want to hurt you again. I would take good care of you and I know that I can be an amazing partner. I am very loyal. I don't know why you can't just give me a chance.

I am not trying to be impatient with you or be pushy. I know you are having a hard time right now. I know it's not easy to step out of your comfort zone.

I have to do that every time I come to see you. Of course I love seeing you and coming to the shop. I just get so nervous every time that I feel sick and forget how to act normal. I have literally had panic attacks in the car because my social anxiety is so bad. I think it was the worst when I tried to come to see you on walk-in days because I didn't know what was going to happen and it was very stressful for me.

I don't leave my house to see anyone else but you and my family. I don't hang out with friends outside of work or anything like that anymore. I don't have any extensive conversations with anybody and my phone rarely goes off unless someone is calling me trying to get my money. I think I have gone out with friends by myself less than 5 times in the past 10+ years because I wasn't allowed to go out alone for such a long time. I became so isolated when I moved to Florida and I had no friends down there and it only got worse when I moved back to Nebraska. I also wasn't allowed to have friends over either and I tried a couple times but it didn't end well. I think I became used to the feeling of isolation unfortunately. I have always had trouble socializing since I was a kid so that definitely doesn't help. I'm not sure if I can fix that because I have been trying my entire life. I am just weird I guess.

I don't think I have gone out to do anything since I moved back home. I haven't gone to any concerts. I can't remember the last time I went out to eat at a restaurant or to a bar. I don't go outside unless I'm driving somewhere or walking from the parking lot to and from work. I have to have a blood test on Friday and I think my vitamin D levels are very low because I rarely see the sun anymore unless I'm looking through the window. The world scares me more now because I've had a lot of bad experiences.

I don't know if you have the same problems with social anxiety or not but I totally understand if you do. It's not easy to deal with.

I want you to know that I'm not going to stop you from doing the things you enjoy or living your life. You are free to do the things that make you happy. All I ask is that you spend time with me when you can. I wouldn't force you to spend all of your time with me. I understand the need for quiet time. I'm not controlling. I would like to make your life easier and I don't want to stress you out.

If you have a problem with something I'm doing, you can just tell me. I'm not going to get mad about anything unless you yell at me or something. I would hope you wouldn't do that though. I know you are very caring and you have been gentle towards me in person. I avoid confrontation as much as possible because I don't like fighting.

I think it's kind of funny how we both sit in our rooms alone all the time. I don't understand why we can't sit together in OUR room. I think it would be more enjoyable than having to stalk each other on the internet. It isn't good for either of us. I also want you to know that I believe in you and I love you.

Anyway, it has been a long day. I don't want to stay up too late since I woke up too early because I couldn't stop coughing. Sometimes my acid reflux causes me to have coughing fits in the middle of the night. It doesn't happen as often as it used to but it's annoying when it does. If I go to the doctor, they will probably just put me on a PPI again and last time it hurt me more than it helped me. I got put on omeprazole for gastritis about 6 months before I got my kidney infection that caused sepsis. I read a study recently about how proton pump inhibitors can increase the risk of infections and suppress the immune system. They can also increase the amount of E. Coli bacteria in the body which is the strain of bacteria that caused my infection. I am going to stay far away from that stuff.

Work wasn't very exciting. I wasn't that busy and my cases should have been done at 3 but they added another one for 5 so I had to do other things for 2 hours while I waited. I only had to stay 30 minutes late. I suppose I shouldn't complain because I got off at 4 yesterday. I don't have any cases in the morning tomorrow. Thursday might be busy unless the weather gets bad again. I am planning on getting groceries tomorrow after work just in case.

It's getting late and I feel like I'm just rambling now. I don't really want to make food because I ate a lot earlier. I have some blueberry muffins I need to eat before they go bad so I will probably have those and some other snacks. I will probably get ready for bed after that because I'm already having trouble keeping my eyes open. Hopefully tomorrow is a good day.

I hope everyone else has a great day tomorrow too!!! 💖💖💖

[shark-myths]

1/2 Hi hello I have a...Headcanon? Fic prompt? Grand unifying Mania to smfs tryst theory theory? Anyway it's this: There was some sort of 'fuck it lets just try again' decision around mania era and it was good! It was working out! And then there was covid and lockdowns and everyone had to make some really tough choices re: who we say irl and when and how often and that led to some real 'well maybe were fooling ourselves when we thought we could have it all this can't really work we did miss our-

2/2 -shot' ergo the smfs lyrical lean of 'I love you so much but this maybe really isn't our time'/ mixed in with all the other very project-written-during-covid ~vibes~ (which I love). But anyway there's a lot of time that can and did (if they started in 2021?) pass between writing lyrics and releasing music and working on the album after all that isolating introspection led right back to 'fuck it lets just be together life is short' hence The Way They're Acting now. *shrugs* idk

*

Love this, love you, thanks for the conspiracy ask!

we know from this kerrang interview and a few other casual mentions, like in patrick's album commentary from the release parties (still haven't listened to that myself but @leyley09 is an excellent on-the-scene reporter) that some of the writing for SMFS actually started before the pandemic, with Patrick dreaming up the music for What a Time to Be Alive right after the release of MANIA and Pete writing the lyrics that paired with it before the pandemic. so if the writing process went dormant in lockdown, we know many of the threads were connected before covid hit the US. (i'm also remembering the cute zoom sing-a-long pete & patrick did at the beginning of the pandemic where they were clearly in the same room but on separate video feeds so that we, viewing, could feel like we were all alone together)

I stand by my thought that MANIA's ask symbolizes open doors that are open-ended--the queer poly happily ever after is floated, and maybe it's answered and maybe it's not but i don't think any of those doors were closed, even by lockdown. i take the backwards-looking in SMFS as a way of acknowledging what's gone past and is no longer possible: having their whole lives being entwined together, maybe even raising a family together instead of with the lovely women they've chosen and built something beautiful with, not letting the fear of being found out determine the unhealthy shape their relationship took for the first 15-odd years of its course. i find this deeply relatable as a mid-30s bisexual, honestly, whose life could have looked really different in some really joyful ways if the culture had been more hospitable and open to queerness when i was growing up, but who also doesn't regret or want to change what i have now.

SMFS doesn't feel like a frantic too-lateness to me, it doesn't feel young; it feels plain and true, like, well, it is too late for some things, but that might not have worked out anyway, and as it stands we're everything to each other--patrick can't write songs without pete and pete feels like he's a painter who can't paint without fall out boy (the kerrang interview is giving me life, truly)--and it isn't so bad, having a soulmate, whether that manifestation is currently romantic or not. it's too late to change what's gone past but it's not too late for the entire future.

i've just never seen them so comfortable together and so matter-of-fact! like their closeness hasn't looked this easy since pete was making patrick squirm on vh1 by describing them as husbands nearly 20 years ago. i love the way no one's rushing to disguise or define or defend anything, they're just sitting there plainly like, this dude is everything to me, and it frankly is so beautiful and refreshing after the no-homo panic that characterized the early aughts.

i love your headcanon and it gave me all these lovely chewy thoughts! god i can't wait to see the fic that comes out of this. thank you darling!

[shevee-the-word-wielder]

Creature of Soul Matter: The Emotion in Heart

Chapter 7: New Hope

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Creature of Soul Matter: The Emotion in Heart AO3

I watch as Hyness goes through shelf after shelf, taking out all the books and floating them past his head. I let my gaze drift away as Kirby starts clamoring up my head.

He slowly makes his way up, pulling and grunting. He makes his way to the top of my head them slides down my snout and looks me in the eye.

"You're fur's soft..." He dreamly tells me.

"You worked your way all the way to here… to tell me that I'm soft?" I ask, letting a light chuckle out.

"Yeaaaahhh…" he absent mindedly confirms, petting me.

He climbs back to the top of my head and lays down, slowly falling back to sleep.

Once he fully drifts off, I pluck him off and put him back on my collar fur so I can look back down to the group.

Dedede and Meta Knight are quietly chatting with each other, and I hear something about Waddle Dees.

The warm light above makes everything feel cozy I suppose, as Bandee has also passed out.

Elfilin's flying around the room, admiring the crystalline patterns.

I finally look at the three girls. They're whispering amongst themselves, isolated from everyone.

Suddenly the red one speaks up a bit, seemingly a bit excited. "Do you realize what this means!?" She quietly yells. Noticing she raised her voice they all stop and look around the room, likely checking to see if they have garnered unwanted attention. Zan spots me looking at them. She sighs and taps the other two on the shoulders, waving them to follow her.

"I do suppose I must introduce my fellow Sisters." Zan says. "This one is Flamberge." She gestures to the red one.

"You can call me Flam." Flamberge adds.

"Yes…" Zan moves onto the blue one, "and this one is Francisca."

"But you can can her Fran." Flam says, leaning against Francisca's shoulder.

Zan nods, looking at them, then turns back to me, "If I may ask, Elfilis, what were your fellow heroes like?"

"Heroes?" I ask as I pick Kirby off of me and put him next to the sleeping Bandee. "Where did this title come from? We were public enemies last I remember."

Zan puts her hand below her face, "I suppose some undesirable circumstances befell you…"

Flam lightly, and seemingly playfully, smacks her on the back of the head, "Oh come on! Quite the fancy talk, let's just speak like normal people."

"Okay, fine." Zan begrudgingly says, glaring at Flam while fixing her hat. "As I was saying, what were your friends like?" She asks again.

I let my mind try to drift towards the memories of my friends. "Well… there was Galacta, Plaige and Gartihall." I relish in the foggy memories, "I may as well talk about Galacta… he was the smallest amongst us, but was the best fighter despite that. But he also cared, he cared a lot, he didn't want us to do anything that would get ourselves hurt and always went on emotional tangent when we did. He sometimes would try to take revenge for us if someone else were to hurt one of us, despite being quite empathetic… He also would know how to help us out of any hole we managed to crawl our way into, often lifting the spirit of a room with a light hearted joke just at the right time."

"So he was always there for you?" Zan quietly relays to herself.

"Yeah… if he were in the position I'm in now, nothing would be able to stop him. He would likely be willing to tear planets to their core and sacrifice his own health to get us all back as swiftly as possible… it would probably feel like a storm for him." I sigh, "I'm glad it's not him in this position right now, I'd rather him not hurting himself... And I'm one to speak; I practically killed myself to try to save them all and failed miserably… I miss them all, they ment the worlds to me."

Zan, Fran and Flam are all looking up at me with saddened eyes.

Fran comes up and pats me on the finger. "I'm eternally sorry for your losses, I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose these two." She turns to look back to them, then goes back to them. "We may not know you all too well, but we can still try to help in even the smallest ways."

The instant after she finishes her sentence Hyness calls to everyone again.

Zan looks back to me, "I'm sorry that we cannot continue this conversation. My deepest condolences and wishes of luck go to you and your quest." The other two turn back to me and they all lightly bow and rejoin behind Hyness, who has placed ten books on a table.

Meta Knight has already gathered on the other side with Elfilin, while Dedede is busy waking up Bandee and Kirby.

I pick myself up and take one step towards the table and rest back down.

Dedede comes over to join us with a half awake puffball in either arm.

Hyness takes the top book and places it down. He then addresses down to it, "This is the one with the most direct talk of Galacta Knight, it contains depictions of him when a group attempted to summon him, and the methods they used."

The book then flips to somewhere in the center of the pages. Pictures of Galacta Knight in and out of his crystal are shown with words that I'm unfamiliar with and what looks like warnings all around it. Though the images don't look quite accurate.

"This work is likely the only writing of its kind, and these illustrations are possibly the most accurate one will find throughout the universe, but they are definitive proof of his existence." Hyness explains.

"I'm going to assume they drew these after encountering him, as they still feel a bit off…"

"Quite likely, as it is written that they were attacked by him after re-establishing his place; they were only able to defeat him with overwhelming numbers, but some were lost to the cold reaches of space with this encounter. It is also depicted that after triumphing over him, he rose back up and was resealed, vanishing there by after."

"But, why and how did they summon him?" I question.

I call down to Elfilin, |"Hey, are you able to read these for me?"|

|"No, I'm sorry, I don't know how to read either."|

I guess despite basically the entire universe being able to understand each other, there's text barriers…

"Why, is never quite fully explained within this." Hyness explains, "But it is stated that they utilized the wish capabilities of one of the many great technologies."

"Oh hey yeah those might work!" Kirby cheers, jumping forward a bit.

Dedede grabs onto and pulls Kirby back into his seat. "Yeah, maybe not… Nothing good has come out of them in the past."

Hyness takes five more books out of the pile and has them fly back to their shelves, keeping the one with the drawings on the table.

He takes off the next one and the bottom one, "Raw magic and vortices?"

"Already tried." Meta Knight tells him.

The two books fly out of this hands and to their spots as well, "Understood."

He grabs one and flips through it.

"I see, this one only depicts his power and destructive capabilities."

Flam perks up and comes up behind him. "Yes, yes." He unenthusiasticly says as he hands it to her.

She maniacally chuckles as she brings it back to her spot.

Ha grabs the last book, the smallest one, "I had my fears that we would be forced into this scenario." He flips to the front page and sets it down. "For alas, this is the most vague method described and it seems to have been a failure."

Dedede's eyes dart as he seems to skim through the book, "He's in a pocket dimension?"

Hyness nods, "Precisely, the group is described to have located a particular rift in which they could travel through and attempt to find Galacta Knight. Their ultimate goal is unclear, but the innards of the dimension are exceptionally dangerous, whittling down their numbers to a mere five before fully retreating."

"Well then how do we know that he's in there?" Meta Knight demands.

"It is told that some caught a glimpse of the illusive knight."

"So what makes the place so bad?" Kirby concerns.

Hyness flips to the last pages, "Here, 'loosed magic everywhere with technologies threatening our existence. Creatures only nightmares or dreams could manifest, posing endangerment to our lives and our will to live. Showing of fear would suffocate you; anger would singe your cloth and you, possibly igniting you; pride would burst you. Emotions didn't show in the space around you, the space around were your emotions, and you were punished for having them.'"

Dedede shutters, Meta Knight looks unfazed, Bandee hides behind Kirby, Kirby looks concerned and Elfilin seems deep in thought.

Dedede suddenly starts buzzing. "Oh, I gotta take this. One moment please." He walks out to the halls.

Meta Knight speaks up. "So this is our last option?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You have eliminated all other methods I have found."

"Then I suppose we're all going on another thrilling adventure." Meta grudgingly responds.

"Not all of us." Dedede determines, walking back in. "Some stuff is going on down at Popstar and everybody seems to be having a panic attack."

"Hmm, this certainly expedites things." Meta Knight mutters.

"Ex-pe-dites?" Kirby softly repeats to himself.

"We'll have to go our separate ways." Meta Knight announces. "I will be going with King Dedede back to planet popstar, if you three want to come with us or Elfilis, whom I assume is going to the rift, is up to you."

"I should probably go and check up on everybody." Bandee decides, joining Dedede and Meta Knight.

Kirby looks conflicted, "Somebody has to go with Elfilis." He finally determines.

I look down on Elfilin, he appears even more conflicted then what Kirby was, worry showing on his face.

After a moment Meta Knight speaks up, "If you can't decide, I'll help. You can come with us, we could use your help to get to Popstar quickly and then find anyone missing."

Elfilin looks up at me, I jerk my head to gesture down to the Popstar group.

He looks away again before finally nodding, determination overtaking.

"You guys can take the Warpstar." Kirby tells them. "I probably don't need it."

The group parts their way and exit the room.

I grab Kirby and put him in my head, I prepare to open a portal out of the ship but Hyness stops us.

"Before you two go, I should mention how to find this rift."

I freeze, "Oh, yeah, huh, that'd be nice info."

"Take this compass." He offers, showing a clear ball with a magenta needle in it to us.

I grab Kirby and let him take it.

"If it is stated correctly, one of the members tied this artifact to the rifts location. Though I have never followed It myself." He explains.

I nod, putting Kirby back. Turning around, I open a vortex just outside the ship.

"Good luck." Fran calls below us.

"You'll need it." Zan finishes.

Finally, I step through.

On the outside of the ship, Kirby takes a look at the ball compass, "Uhhhh… that way!" He says, slipping into my snout and pointing behind us.

I fly above the ship to look where he pointed. "Got it."

Kirby climbs back onto my head and I dive into more unfamiliar space.

[blackink-onpaper]

The Descend and the Resurface

Damian Hart (Beyblade) x OC

Summary: OC comes from a complex background, and in the midst of trying to save it all and help her family she enters a strange arrangement, which will change her life forever.

Masterlist 🖤

Tags: Beyblade, Beyblade Metal Masters, Julian Konzern, Jack, Damian, OC, Gingka Hagane, team Starbreaker, team Excalibur, dr. Ziggurat, Hades Inc.

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Also, please let me know what you think so far! It means a lot to me!

@beyblade-oc-week @masterofdemise @lady-lazagna 🖤

Chapter 11

Dr. Carlisle walked me to his office, which was a taupe windowless room with two lush plants in the corners, a beige armchair facing a beige chaise sofa of the same design, and a warm soft light coming from the ceiling. The wall behind the armchair had a large canvas with calming, muted colours that were flowing into each other without pattern. The entire room gave a serene atmosphere, and judging by its design and layout I realised Dr. Carlisle was a psychiatrist.

“Take a seat, please make yourself comfortable” Carlisle said in a very calming way: “would you like some tea?”

“Depends on how long I’m going to be here” I smiled at him, taking a seat on the sofa that was so comfortable I was contemplating asking him where he got it from. He handed me a cup of some fresh herbal tea that smelled relaxing and reinvigorating, before he sat down in his armchair holding his own cup:

“Well Camila, I know we’ve been formally introduced, but I would also like to introduce myself to you. I’m dr. Vincent Carlisle, and I’m the psychologist taking care of team Starbreaker.” I took a sip of the delicious tea, listening to him carefully.

“I brought you here because this room has no monitoring system whatsoever, and is completely sound-proof for maximum privacy.” He cleared his throat: “I wanted to talk about what happened just now at the demonstration.”

“Okay” I nodded, genuinely interested in which direction this conversation was going to continue.

“I hope you don’t mind, and I apologise if I was breaching your privacy with this, but I was observing you during the demonstrations. I believe there is something you should know about Damian, especially after what happened today.”

Leaning back into the plush sofa, I wondered what this was all about: “yes doctor?”

“Damian has been in my care almost his entire life, and is a very particular case. Perhaps even the most complex one I’ve had in my career.” I frowned, wondering why was he in psychotherapy since he was a child, but I did not want to interrupt. “He has changed drastically since then, and this is definitely a result of the Arrangement system administered to the Starbreaker members. All three of them have shown large differences in behaviour and thinking patterns since beginning with the treatment, but Damian remains an isolated case because of how long he’s been taking it.”

“But, why do they do it then?” I knew asking this probably sounded daft, but I was none the wiser in this situation without asking.

“Dr. Ziggurat ruled out the mental side effects as circumstancial, as things in psychology often can be, because he doesn’t want his project compromised.” He paused to take a sip of his tea: “But what we saw today may be proof that the effects of the arrangement may not be completely irreversable in long-term users, such as Damian.”

“How long has he been taking it?”

“10 or 11 years, I believe.”

To say I was shocked was an understatement of massive proportions. I am by no means an expert on the topic, but from what I was told in these two days this Arrangement system seemed to be very dangerous: “How is that even possible?”

“I’m afraid that I both don’t know, and that the information is highly classified. Damian seems to be completely compatible with the arrangement system, and I came onboard around the time he began the treatment to monitor his mental state over the years. I don’t know if you’ve read the news, but countless other Hades Academy Bladers lost their minds after the Arraangement, many with permanent physical damage as well.” He paused again to sigh, this was a difficult topic: “That’s why finding candidates that are suitable with the system is so difficult.”

“Is that why Ziggurat keeps Zeo in the team even though he is suffering from the side effects?”

“Kind of” Carlisle nodded his head: “they have a separate deal that I’m not allowed to discuss with you, but because Zeo is mostly compatible he was chosen to complete the team for the tournament.”

There was another silence, but then the doctor put down his cup on a small side table next to the armchair: “What I’m trying to say is: Damian has gone through physical and mental changes that are definitely not normal, and I believe he is also suffering from trauma and effects of being manipulated and lied to for most of his life. I won’t lie to you, Ziggurat and I brought you here for two separate reasons, but mine is the wellbeing of the boys. Today I saw there may be hope in recovery, and all I’m asking is that you help me in my endeavour.”

“How?”

“Tell me anything you believe will be useful for my part of the reseach, and you yourself can speak to me anytime.” He gave me a reassuring smile: “And if anyone asks, you never heard any of this; we spoke about your adjustment into Hades today.”

“Of course.” I smiled back. He walked me to the door, and we both saw Zeo waiting for his appointment. He was completely surprised to see me leaving the room, but said hi nonetheless. Something else seemed to be on his mind again. In the corridor, I was waiting for the elevator when I noticed it was 10:45AM and that I had nothing to do. I didn’t even know where the boys were. When the elevator came, I chose to go to the common room just in case Jack was there. When the door slid open, I saw the room was empty. For a moment, I considered going to my own room, but then I realised checking in on Damian might also be a good idea. He seemed quite upset earlier.

The door to his room slid open, revealing Damian sitting on his bed without his cape, with Kerbecks on the sheets and a remote control in his other hand, which he probably opened the elevator door with:

“I came to see how you are” I felt kind of awkward, considering his face didn’t even have that mishevious flare I am used to seeing, but a dissatisfied frown. His room was spacious, perhaps even bigger than Jack’s, but a complete opposite in terms of interior. Damian’s room was white, minimalistic and clean, with lights surrounding the plush, white, cloud-like bed. There was an empty desk closer to the elevator, and a large thin TV on the wall facing the bed. His room also had a floor-to-ceiling window wall, with semi-transparent white blinds diffusing the incoming sunlight. Unlike the common room or the hallway, the air in Damian’s room was much cooler and had an almost hospital-like scent:

“Look” he broke my train of thought: “I don’t know where all of you guys get this ‘mercy’ nonsense, but I am here to win” he got up and walked over, suddenly standing right in front of me: “And I will destroy whoever is in my way.”

“I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

“Trouble?” He laughed: “I am the Chosen One. The prodigy of the Arrangement System - the guardian of Hades.” He paused, I was looking at the floor: “And my power will not be made smaller or humbled just so a bunch of weak twigs can feel better about themselves!”

“Damian, your strength does not make other people weak.” I tried using some Excalibur philosophy on him.

“Lemme ask you something, Camila” he came up close to my face with a grin. I noticed his eyes were more feline than I’d originally thought, and I was kind of speechless staring into his sterling grey irises, he was actually quite attractive: “Were you ever good at something?”

“I-“ I begun, but he interrupted me:

“No, you weren’t.” He smirked: “Because if you were you wouldn’t be whimpering around here with nothing to do, and so much to say.” I just stood there speechless, absolutely lost for words. The satisfaction on his face was immesurable, perhaps even comprable to when he humiliated Julian in front of an entire stadium and live cameras.

“You’re right.” I stared at him, taking in every detail in his face, trying to remember what Carlisle told me: “But you don’t have to be so cruel just because someone was cruel to you.”

He scrunched his nose, changing his grin into a snarl: “And what do you know? You dumped your loser team as soon as Ziggurat waved some cash at you. What was that if not cruel?”

He was right. I couldn’t argue with him: he was completely right. I just stood there, embarassed to even be alive, regretting I even came into this pristine white cave to face the truth I didn’t want - or need - to hear.

“You’re right.” I straightened my back and looking him straight in the eyes, trying to hide my shame: “You chose to win; I chose to survive.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes: “What a pathetic line.” Then he came closer to me, looking at me with a provoking grin, bordering with ridicule: “I think Julian dumping you was the best thing that ever happened in your lame life.”

[kyuriin-chan]

Tyler Galpin x OC

Chapter 3

Word Count: 1.433

POV Tyler

I woke up in a sweat and shot up. Shaking, I picked up the glass of water that was by my bed and took a sip.

I tried to get my breathing back under control and lay down on my bed. Weakly I stared at the ceiling.

I've been taking the headmistress's serum for a few weeks now and still I couldn't make anything out of the dreams. I saw isolated excerpts and sometimes heard a voice.

It was a beautiful voice, I had to admit, and I actually only took the serum to hear her voice as it was extremely debilitating.

It also helped quell my Hyde, but it turned out to have severe side effects. Because my Hyde was evoked under abnormal circumstances, it was immensely strong within me.

Headmistress Galdorne explained to me that my Hyde probably wanted to commit and since the serum had given me an impression of my partner, small as it is, he became fixated on her. She also assured me that she had contacted someone who could help me and was also a Hyde.

I didn't know what to do with this information either.

I was glad not to have to be alone, but how could he help me when my Hyde wanted to bond after all?

x

I walked out of herbalism class with a slight headache and had a plan to reach my room as soon as possible to pop in a painkiller.

"Have you made any progress yet?", came a relatively icy voice behind me and I saw Wednesday. She looked at me with an indefinable look and waited for my answer.

"Unfortunately not", I admitted and continued to my room. She quietly followed me and now walked beside me.

"You should ask Headmistress Galdorne for another remedy", she replied after a short period of silence and walked down another corridor.

I watched her go for a brief moment before heading back to my destination.

x

I found out that Wednesday didn't see a monster in me either and it was crystal clear to her: Laurel Gates had the many students on her conscience and I was just her pawn and couldn't do anything about it.

And as it turned out, my time at Nevermore Academy wasn't as bad as I expected.

Thanks to Principal Galdorne, the students were enlightened to the case and that my Hyde was manipulated by a poison. As soon as she issued an order, I couldn't help but obey.

This method was strictly forbidden, but since no one knew anything about it, she got away with impunity for a while. I continued to go to therapy, of course, only with a different therapist who replaced Dr. Kinbott in a way.

Principal Galdorne felt that the Nevermore students needed a special kind of therapy and hired a former student who was believed to have attended school there at the time of Wednesday's parents.

I was able to talk to her about my progress and confide everything to her with a clear conscience.

Secretly, I was glad about this change because I was getting along with her pretty well, but I would never admit that.

x

I continued to creep towards my room, blocking out the many students around me. I was actually assigned a room in Nevermore, even though I didn't live far away. So I could always switch between Nevermore and my home as I wanted.

That was an advantage especially when I just wanted to be alone. My father was not often at home because of his work, even though Laurel Gates' case was now closed.

He would sometimes try to strike up a conversation with me about how I was doing and if I had made any progress on my Hyde, but I avoided him as best I could.

He hadn't told me about my mother and never wanted to talk about her, why should I confide everything to him now?

I reached my room and closed the door behind me and quickly went to my bed to sit on it.

There were some pills on my bedside table that were supposed to help me cope better, but I just felt weak. I quickly swallowed a headache pill and took a sip of water to wash it down.

Luckily I had all the lessons for today behind me and I could finally be by myself. My head found the soft pillow and I finally closed my eyes.

I slowly drifted into the dream world and fell asleep completely.

POV Seraphina

I sat nervously in the car and stared out the window.

The Nevermore school year had already started and I arrived a few weeks later as it was unwise to part with Micah while he was on his cycle.

During this time, his instincts were stronger than usual and since he had a strong connection with me, he would not react positively to this change.

I heard a small exhalation next to me and looked to my right only to see Micah sleeping. He was a bit weakened by his cycle and his Hyde wanted to be close to me because he trusted me.

I looked gently into his relaxed face and hoped that he would be fine without my presence. Sometimes he transformed at night and then sat in front of my bed to watch and guard me.

I already had to survive one or two heart attacks when I woke up in the night and saw him there in front of my bed.

Softly I smiled and looked out the window to my left again. I really hoped to find some friends who would accept me and my family.

My father came from a long generation of Hydes and thus acquired a great knowledge of his kind. We only moved here from Germany a few years ago and my father tried to pass on his knowledge as best he could.

By chance he had met Headmistress Galdorne a few years ago when she herself was gathering knowledge about extraordinary creatures in order to understand them better. At that time, she wasn't yet the principal of Nevermore, but a teacher at another school.

I was firmly convinced that suddenly being able to switch to Nevermore Academy was no coincidence. My father had spoken of a boy's particularly difficult case, who must have needed his expertise.

"You don't need to be afraid Phina, I'm sure you'll make friends quickly", I heard my father's voice from the front.

"Dad! You're not supposed to be spying on me, Micah is already doing that!", I retorted a bit grumpily and looked over at Micah, who was still sleeping.

"I'm sorry my sparrow, I just want the best for you, you know that", he said with a slight smile focused on the traffic again.

Hydes had an extraordinary sense of smell, weaker in their human form but still present. My father explained to me early on, that Hydes imprinted themselves on their partners and family in order to protect them better.

So I had my brother on my cheek in particular, who almost always knew what was going on inside me. Of course, that had its advantages, but I still enjoyed my privacy immensely.

My mother always said it was nice to have someone who understood you so well, but I just didn't know what to do with it.

My parents got along really well and I admired their bond, but I didn't know if that was something for me too. They used to tell stories of how they met, and my mother always pointed out that she thought the same way as I did until she met my father.

He transformed before her eyes and dragged her along to have her for himself.

It was no secret that Hydes were very possessive of their counterparts, I knew that, but being abducted by a stranger?

It was one thing to have a connection with my brother, but a connection with a total stranger?

Still, my mother insisted that once you felt that connection, you thought differently.

However, I couldn't make much of it, and I also had great prospects for a "normal" life. I had only inherited a few qualities, such as good night vision, but I didn't own a Hyde myself.

I used to be disappointed and felt left out because my brother had inherited this gene, but in the end I was glad I didn't inherit it.

I looked ahead again and felt a little excitement again.

Nevermore, here I come!

[malorisaurus]

I want to add to the point “Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser?”

Cinderella’s mother died when she was very young and her father not too terribly long after. Her step mother and step sisters were the only family she had left in this world, and she did not have many options outside of that for a life that wasn’t also filled with uncertainty and misery. I particularly appreciate this depiction of Lady Tremaine because her emotional abuse toward Cinderella is so subtle and really follows a lot of patterns of narcissistic parents.

Children of narcissistic parents are not often outwardly angry toward their parents—not only is it unsafe to do so, we often become enmeshed with them as a part of the emotional abuse. The child may be given glimpses of hope and affection only for them to be cruelly snatched away. The child is blamed for hurting or causing problems for the parent, convinced of their own badness and cruelty, and you believe it.

And you do get angry! Cinderella does get angry, albeit in a socially polite and acceptable way (which is where this depiction lacks, imo, and is in line with what OP pointed out). I interpret her kindness as not only a means for her to hold onto herself, but to her memory of her parents, and also just a means of survival. As the eldest child with a clinical narcissist for a primary parent, I was often fawning to protect myself and my siblings (for Cinderella this was Bruno and the other animals). I often acted in very kind, meek, and sweet ways because (A.) extremely gendered behaviors often got more favorable responses , and (B.) catering to a calculating person who holds all of the power is often the best way to appeal to their ego and get at least some of what you need out of them.

I don’t think they were doing much explicitly with Cinderella’s behavior to indicate this, but I do think with depicting Lady Tremaine the way they did makes that inference possible. It is the reason Cinderella was one of my favorite movies of all time when I was younger. Like her, I did not mind my isolated and less than ideal room (I was in a basement not an attic) because it was far removed and I could escape. I also was trying to survive, and though I am fully aware now that I do not owe abusers my kindness, it was my most effective tool for survival when that dynamic was the only one I had ever known and I was disempowered from independence.

Also, for the record (because narcissist is so often used to dehumanize people) my experience is with a clinically diagnosed narcissist who had a vested interest in abusing me and my siblings who would not seek any avenue of intervention or improvement. This is in no means meant to be a generalization or an attack on narcissists. The effects on children of untreated narcissists are widely studied, and while it can be a horrible trauma, individuals are individuals. ✌️ Lady Tremaine exhibits some traits that I attribute to narcissistic parents through the lens of my own experience.

After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

[tcaseyhart]

Life Update

Ever since I moved, so much of my day-to-day life has inspired new ideas for the book. (By that I mean new problems that I've realized I didn't address very deeply in the book) I won’t get into all the details here, but my partner, Dell, and I have been going through a lot these past few weeks. To be honest, we even had conversations about possibly separating. In the end, things turned out okay, but it’s going to take some time to heal and get back to baseline. We’ve recommitted to the relationship and are focusing on being more open and honest with each other about how we’re feeling.

A lot of our issues stem from past traumas and how they interact with our similar mental health struggles. We’re isolated in a new city with no support system, and Dell is estranged from their family, so they don’t have anyone to call when things get rough. I’m doing my best to support them, but with the two of us cooped up in a small room in a brand-new place, it’s not always easy. On our bad days, we become each other’s stress triggers, which just adds to the tension.

Work is going okay. I finally finished one full week, and it’s made this second week a bit easier. Everything is a muscle, I guess. I’m at a call center again, which is the exact job I was trying to escape when we moved. I don’t hate it, but it’s long, boring, and people are often rude over the phone. I still don’t understand how people representing their own businesses can be as mean as random callers.

The good news is I have an interview at a pet store on Friday! I’m hoping to start learning to groom dogs, which I feel would be a much better fit for me right now. I’d be more active, talking to friendlier people (hopefully), and spending time with animals who don’t judge. Sounds like a dream, right?

With all this going on, I still haven’t finished editing the book. I know it’ll get done eventually, but I’m getting down on myself as usual. Thoughts, prayers, and spells appreciated. 💫

[fauxfroot]

oh right i remembered why i am so so picky about video essays. it's because sometimes (oftentimes) they're really just a rehash of the drama and not actually saying anything meaningful themselves, just adding commentary to a situation that i really don't actually care about in the grand scheme of things. right.

like if you like those things, that's fine, i just personally don't get anything out of them. they don't stimulate me intellectually, all they are designed for is an emotional response and as the ones recommended to me are usually about topics i am well versed in anyway, i just don't find any use for them. i already had the emotional response to the situation. i don't see the point in dwelling in it. yeah, i'm angry about [insert whatever current issue that has been sent to me here] but watching someone else rehash it and be angry about it as well is just... idk boring?? are they presenting any new ideas here? are they offering any new solutions? or are we just summarizing the drama again, with a New Snarky Comment added on?

i know for some, these videos are cathartic to make and view. i am happy for them, i guess. personally, i find them a waste of energy. i have been struggling to figure out how to put this into words for a bit now, as a good friend really likes these types of videos and seems to want to watch them quite often, and while i want to respect what they may do for her, i just find them exhausting and grating. especially because they aren't even all that informative most of the time. they just feel like a way to get anxious and mad and i don't see the point.

however, in my migraine funk today i have been watching some video essay content by myself for the first time in months and it clicked with me what the difference was. the type of video essays that i feel really drawn to tend to talk less about current events or issues directly and more about the philosophies around them. i don't like just rehashing the problems over and over. i don't enjoy just talking about what this person or that person said or did and why that's bad. i want to dig into the wider philosophy of it, the systemic structures around them, the consequences of cultural movements, and the possible solutions to the problems we are facing as a society. i like video essays that are talking about personal experiences and maybe tying that back out to wider societal issues as well, but starting from a place of the personal. i also like well researched pieces, but i tend to be more engaged with something that it trying to make a larger point by pulling from many different sources, rather than something that is just presenting information.

hbomb for example manages to hit a sweet spot because while he is presenting gathered information, it is often gathered in order to explore a wider point, with any drama around a particular person being uncovered in the process of research and technically incidental to the wider philosophical point he was trying to make in the beginning. on the other end (or maybe very closely?? idk) i have cjthex - the reason i had this revelation today lmao - who is all over the place and tends to be talking more about art philosophy and dissecting art rather than people and that takes them out into societal issues from there but the basis is always somewhere in the art of it all, coming from this need to explore and ask questions and UNDERSTAND.

i don't want to just doom spiral about the newest drama. i don't want to hear about the dumb shit some bigot said. i don't care. they're one person and i don't know them personally and i have an 81 year old the next room over that i need to take care of with much more pressing problems.

i want to think about the purpose of art in my life. i want to think about where my impulse to create comes from. i want to think about why i feel isolated and how i can work to create community in my space now. i want to watch a video essay of someone exploring the world through a lens of actually trying to say something

please, can we actually try to say something