#this was one of the main stressors about today

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Forever and Ever... Even in the 1920s-1960s

Started going down a long digression in the 2+4 essay. Gonna follow this breadcrumb trail over here instead...

One of my arguments is that Gordon actually behaves well and graciously way more often than he is usually given credit for (and starts doing this way earlier than often credited, too).

Along the way, I realized that his spots of bad behavior are not random. When he starts acting all Ass, it's almost always in the period of some sort of major change in his life:

The Three Railway Engines - *waves hand vaguely* all of it -> he's just transferred from the GNR to Sodor

Troublesome Engines - *waves hand again* y'know, all of it -> Thomas moved away :(

Henry the Green Engine - harrumphing about how Henry has let the side down in like three different ways directly after Henry's major reconstructive surgery -> the horrible wreck where Henry, his best friend, could have died, and instead was in hospital the rest of the damn winter

Gordon the Big Engine - "Mind you keep on the rails today!" and then, when he gets pushback, retreating to old friend "boasting" -> is he mother-henning Henry?? he's explicitly referencing the Kipper accident! I would not be too shocked to learn that Gordon gets twinges of unease that he never examines every so often whenever he sees Henry with a train

Percy the Small Engine - "Quack quack quack!" and trying to bully Duck (lol. lmao, even) -> Percy is gonna move away :(

Main Line Engines - getting on his high horse about "Branch Line Diesels" and then getting into a huge spat with Edward that results a brand-new beat-down of a dead horse named "Edward is Weak and Useless" -> We learn in "Wrong Road" that his fireman is new. Presumably his old fireman advanced to fill the role, leaving the vacancy... which means that Gordon recently lost his old driver to retirement.

You might be thinking "well yeah, stressors are stressful, most people's outbreaks of bad behavior have to do with some sort of Big Life Thing" - I certainly thought so, for a mo'. But this isn't true of the other major characters? James's worst behavior in the Wilbert books comes when he is slightly delayed sometimes during his work day and when Toby just, erm… exists. Thomas's worst behavior is because he… doesn't like his snowplough, and has a careless cleaner.

No, only Gordon's poor behavior can so consistently be linked to big changes. Indeed, not many RWS characters have been seen with quite as much of an interior life as we learn Gordon has in "Tenders for Henry." By that point, Gordon has matured enough that he doesn't express his feelings in this emotionally-stupid make-it-everyone's-problem sort of way. But we can see clearly that the end of steam seems to affect him more deeply than anyone else at Tidmouth.

So yeah, I think there's something real and insightful in the above pattern. Once again, my friends - Galloping Sausage with Feelings.

[wanderingmind867]

I'm upset and yet also just really kind of sad right now. I don't have the energy for pure anger and rage, since I feel tired and drained. But I'm infuriated that I get internet at school now. Because the access to Internet is completely destroying my ability to focus on my book. It's horrible. I just wanted to be able to read, but the awful situation with the internet at school makes me incapable.

Because think of it this way. With internet, I can now read whatever I want online. This means infinite distractions. And thanks to the stupid EA who forced me to get the internet at school, I'm now unable to read 99% of the time. I just want to hit the forget button on the internet so badly…

In fact, I just did. Turns out it works with one click (something I really didn't think would be true). So now I'm no longer signed in to the school's wifi, and yet I'm somehow ecstatic about that. So let's just hope the EA doesn't complain that I did this, because this has brought me a great amount of hope and faith for my reading situation at school.

[wakandas-vibranium]

Wednesday Nights || Part One

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smutty smut, phone sex, dirty talk, teasing, swearing, sex work

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: As a single parent of an active kid Joel’s funds were tight, so he needed to find a quick way to make more income and surprisingly, you could make good money being a phone sex operator.

A/N: I kept daydreaming about Joel being a PSO. When I went to search for related fics I couldn’t find any so I wrote one :) Please like, comment and reblog!

part two

part three

part four

part five

Your nerves deteriorated with each passing minute. It was almost ten o'clock. On most days, the time didn't matter, but today was Wednesday. Wednesday nights were highly essential for you. 

For the past five months, you've been making late-night phone calls to talk to a specific phone sex operator named Jay. You had a sneaking suspicion that "Jay" wasn't actually his name, but you didn’t let that bother you. You understood that the operators were obligated to follow certain procedures for their own safety. 

Except for the few small truths he told you, Jay's personal life was a vast mystery to you. All you gathered about him from your extensive conversations was that he was a man in his early thirties from the southern parts of the United States who enjoyed a good cup of coffee before starting his day. He never specified where in the south he grew up, but the Texan drawl sounded too genuine to be artificial.

On Wednesdays, Jay only worked until 11 o'clock, so the two of you came to the conclusion fairly early on that you should dial in a little after 10 in order to ensure that you were his final call of the day.

You managed to calm your nerves by doing a little dance. You twirled in circles until you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror that was intentionally placed in front of your bed. You stopped dancing and stood there, appreciating your half-naked figure in the mirror as you waited for the clock to strike 10:03. 

You weren't sure why you always ended up so nervous around this time of the week. You'd been doing this for a while now, but it was just something about Jay that turned you into the shyest little thing.

You looked downright delicious in your baby blue lingerie. You brought it this afternoon along with a new toy. It wasn't like Jay could see it, but your imagination ran wild. Your breasts sat flawlessly in the laced blue bra. You looked like a fucking snack. 

If only you could meet Jay in person, you thought, sighing in disappointment. You eyed the clock and shook the negative thoughts from your head before you ended up in a funk. It was time to dial in. 

You were already drained from the week's stressors, and there were still two more days to go. You were in your last year of graduate school and utterly stumped on your thesis. You were sick of doing research, reading, typing, crying, and everything else that came with being a grad student. At this point, all you wanted to do was talk to Jay for as long as you possibly could and get off. 

You called in, waiting for the main operator to ask you who you wanted to be transferred to. She answered in her usual upbeat voice. You answered her question and before you knew it the line was being transferred to Jay. You held your breath on every ring, as you always did, until Jay picked up. Unexpectedly, a memory of your very first call came flooding back.

9:58pm five months ago

Valentine’s Day

Ring. Ring. Click. 

“Decompress until there’s a mess,” a cheerful woman said as she answered your call and you fought back a cackle at that ridiculous ass slogan. “Who would you like to speak to tonight?”

“Umm…this is my first time calling, so I’m not really sure.” you admitted.

“That’s alright, sugar,” the woman assured softly. “Let’s start with the simple stuff. Do you have a preference for gender or ethnicity?” 

“Umm, well, ethnicity doesn’t matter, but I’d like to speak with a man.”

“Okay. We’re getting somewhere. What kind of man?” 

“Someone with an accent.” 

“What kind of accent? We have ‘em all here, sugar.” 

The constant use of the pet name actually eased your nerves. Your shyness was depleting while your confidence was rising. 

“A southern accent?”

You had a slight accent kink since you could remember. You appreciated all accents, but there was something extra sweet about southern men and the way they could hold a conversation. Maybe it was because you grew up in the south too. 

“Louisiana?” The operator asked as she typed away at her computer. By the sound of her taps, her nails must have been quite long. You bet they looked as pretty as she sounded. 

“More of a Texan accent please.” You insisted, nibbling your bottom lip as you waited for her to find someone. 

“That’ll be Jay then.” 

“It looks like he’s finishing up another call,” she informed. “Do you mind waiting on hold for a few minutes before I transfer you?” 

“No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” 

“Okay. Placing you on hold now.”

You were on hold for maybe forty five seconds. The wait music stopped abruptly and the line rang four times before a sultry voice spoke. “Hello, darlin’.” 

And fuuuuuuuck. 

The sultry twang of his voice sounded like toe curling, earth shattering, raw sex.

You went to say hello, but for some reason you forgot how your mouth worked. You palmed your forehead, wincing.

How embarrassing. 

“Hello?” he said, tone shifting slightly. 

“Hi.” you finally whispered, palms somewhat shaking. You never did anything like this. Thank god he couldn’t see how much of a nervous wreck you were. You weren’t a virgin, but you didn’t have that many sexual experiences. There was plenty left for you to learn. 

“Sorry,” you continued, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is my first time doing something like this and I’m a little nervous.” you admitted, shifting in the computer chair, spreading your legs. 

“I understand. We can take it slow, okay?” 

“Okay.” you nodded as if he could fucking see you. 

“My name is Jay. What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” you blurted, without thinking. Were you supposed to give him a fake name?

He chuckled softly, “That your real name, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you sighed deeply. “It is actually.”

“Well, Y/N is such a pretty name.” He complimented. 

“Thank you.” you smiled, shoulders relaxing as you began to twirl in your chair. 

“How old are you?” Jay asked. 

“I’ll be 28 next month,” you revealed, slipping into a more seductive voice now that your nerves were further away, “How old are you?” 

“I’ll be 31 later in September.” 

“Ah, so you’re a Libra man?” you teased. You weren’t super into astrology, but you knew the basics and looked at compatibility charts every now and then. 

“Am I now?” he laughed.

“You are and I’m an Aries. Apparently we’re very compatible.” 

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“You believe that?” He retorted.

“Sort of.” you mumbled, half shrugging. 

“I think we’ll find out in a lil’ bit.” Jay purred. You pulled the phone away from your ear as you shivered in anticipation. You were already wet for him. 

Goddamn. He already had you hooked

“Evenin’ darlin’,” Jay answered warmly on the third ring. 

“Hi,” you responded, beaming up at yourself in the mirror. Jeez all it took was a simple greeting from Jay to have you smiling from ear to ear. “How has your day been?” 

“It’s been alright. Even better now though.” He said, already flirting. 

“I’m wearin’ the blue lace lingerie we looked at last week.” You blurted, getting straight to the point. You usually talked about regular things, but you were pent up and needed him to do what he was perfect at and make you a soaking wet mess. 

“Ohh,” he exhaled sharply, “I wish I could watch you model it for me, Y/N.” He was always so good and going with the flow. He always made sure to give you what you needed. After all, that was what you were paying him for. It was left unspoken that you both forgot that this was a transaction a few months ago. 

“I bought a toy, too.” 

“What kind?” He perked up, even more interested.

“You got your laptop open?”

“Mmhmm.” he replied.

“Go to www.lovegasm.com.”

You listened to the pad of his fingers fall against the laptop keys as he followed your instructions. You ignored the fact that you were lowkey jealous of the keyboard that got to feel how his fingers felt against them. 

“Okay. I’m there.” 

“Click on the drop-down in the left hand corner.” 

“Okay.”

“Then click on ‘for women’ then select ‘dildos’.” you instructed, you slid off your shawl, moving over to the edge of the bed to give him and the page a few extra seconds to load before asking, “You there?”

“Yep. Which one am I looking for?”

“Right column. Sixth one down.” 

“I see,” he said, humming in excitement. 

“Look familiar?” You asked, giggling softly as you laid back on your bed, spreading your thighs. 

“A bit.” he admitted, unable to hide the smile in his voice. You could hear it clear as day. It was another small thing you looked forward to. 

“I can’t wait to feel yo—it inside me, Jay.” you caught yourself, but it was too late. He’d already heard you and his cock twitched in response. 

“No, you were right the first time, baby.” he said, kind of muffled, grunting softly as he raised his arms, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt. 

“I’m a bit thicker towards the top so we’re gonna have to finger you open, so that I can slide in perfectly.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to take off my panties?” 

“No,” he said, inhaling sharply. “Pull them to the side and rub your clit for me.”

You obeyed, pulling your panties to the side and slowly rubbed your clit with your middle finger, sighing softly. 

“How wet are you?”

“Honestly,” you breathed deeply, running a finger down your slick slit. “I’ve been wet for you all day, Jay.” He groaned deeply at your admission, thick cock swelling in his pants. 

“You’re gonna cum twice for me tonight, Y/N. First on my fingers, then on my cock.” 

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He knew you loved when he talked to you that way. It helped you get off even more. 

“Got it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Repeat it.” he demanded, growling softly in your ear. You stopped breathing for a second. Completely turned on by the rough tone he was taking with you. 

God he knew what you liked so well. 

“I’m cummin’ twice tonight. On your fingers, then on your cock.” You repeated, voice deep with arousal. You whimpered softly, rubbing faster as you felt that coil deep in your belly loosen a smidge. You were getting closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” he praised, making you sigh deeply and even more of a puddle. 

“Slide a finger inside you,” he instructed, “Slow pumps.” 

You obeyed, pushing in your middle finger, massaging your folds gradually. Although the motion was effective, it wasn’t sufficient. It didn't push you very far at all. You needed more. 

“Can I add another finger, baby?” You asked, moaning louder as you rubbed your clit in wide slow circles, getting wetter by the second.

“Go ahead,” said Jay, granting you permission.

You added another finger, pumping faster. Now you were getting somewhere.

“Jay,” you moaned softly, grinding down on your fingers as you sped up just a little. 

“I love the way you moan for me.” he praised, grunting softly as he popped the button open on his jeans and unzipped them. The faint sound of his zipper being pulled down made your nipples harden almost painfully. 

“Shit Jay, I wish these were your fingers.” you admitted, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, shyness long gone. You closed your eyes, picturing Jay’s fingers inside of you, while his free hand held pressure on your lower stomach. You listened to him pull his jeans down some. 

“I know baby,” he groaned, palming his hard cock through his boxers, “So do I.” 

“Keep rubbin’ your clit for me,” like the good and dutiful girl you were, you obeyed, rubbing your bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles. Your other fingers were busy pumping in and out of your tight hole. 

It was weird at this angle, but you added a third finger and curled them up. Your thighs trembled as you fingered and rubbed yourself harder. Jay could hear how soaked you were for him and pulled his cock out, thumbing the bead of precum before stroking it lazily. You were always so wet for him and he oh so badly craved to taste it. 

He inhaled sharply before letting a single command fall past his lips, “Cum.” 

“Fuuuuck!” you moaned loudly as you came, body jerking against the bed as you worked yourself slower. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jay purred lowly, talking you through a well anticipated orgasm. “Let it out for me.” You were gonna have to change your sheets, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You were sex crazed. 

One down. One more to go. 

Jay’s hand locked down painfully on his cock, stopping himself from almost cumming. “Now grab my cock and put it in your mouth.” Jay said, taking a steadying, deep breath. The sounds you made when you came always got to him. The sinful whimpers and desperate grunts you let out damn near made him go feral with lust. 

You palmed the silicone cock and brought it to your lips, licking up the veiny shaft before taking it into your mouth. 

“Suck it, baby. Let me hear it.” He cupped his dick loosely, starting back up with slow strokes. He had to be careful. 

You sucked the head while simultaneously pulling on the base, making the tip tug at your plump lips.

“Mmhmm,” he moaned, encouraging you to take him deeper. You tilted your head to get a better angle and took the fake cock as deep as you could, bobbing your head up and down, moaning loudly. When you choked, Jay growled. “Fuuuck, baby! You take me so well.” 

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Jay said, panting sharply, “I can hear it. Go ahead and push me in. I know that I’ll fit easily.” 

“Goddamnit Jay,” you cursed, letting the dildo fall from your stretched lips with a loud pop, slapping your inner thigh hard enough to leave it aching in the morning.

“What?” He asked, snickering softly because he already knew the answer. 

“You just always know what to say.” you praised, gasping softly as you pushed the cock inside you, all the way to the hilt. He was right. It stretched you, but you were so wet it didn’t even pinch. 

You pushed the silicone cock inside you deep and fast. It felt so fucking good. You paused your moans so you could hear Jay. You wanted to match his strokes. Once he realized what you were doing he sped up. 

“Yeah, that’s it, babygirl,” he praised, groans growing louder, “Fuck yourself just like that. Don’t stop.” 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pumping yourself even harder. 

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” The harshness of his voice made you open your eyes and slow your movements just a tad. 

“Jay p—please, baby,” you moaned louder, begging him to let you cum. He loved teasing you and you loved that he loved it. 

“Please what, darlin’?” said Jay, amusement heavy in his tone. He knew exactly what you wanted. Needed. He was gonna give it to you, but you had to ask first. You had to beg for it. 

“Cum with me this time,” you coaxed, whole body shuddering just from hearing the downright filthy noise Jay just made. 

“Okay, babygirl,” he groaned lowly, breaths quickening as he pumped his cock nice and fast. “Whatever you want.” 

“I want you to cum with me,” you begged, head thrashing wildly against the pillows as the tip of the dildo brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I want to hear your moans mix with mine when we cum.” 

You sobbed as you started back rubbing your clit. The tight circling of your finger combined with the rapid thrusts from the dildo gave you a window of 30 seconds before you were cumming your brains out.

“That’s it, baby,” Jay snarled, hips jerking wildly up into his fist as he stroked his cock even faster. “Be a good girl and cum with me.” 

You came with a loud cry as your climax tore through you, back arching all the way off the mattress in sheer pleasure. Jay followed right behind you, cursing and whimpering as white ropes of cum landed on his belly and chest. You both panted harshly, together over the line as you recovered slowly from your intense orgasms.

“I think that was our best one yet.” he laughed warmly as he pulled a few tissues from the square box on his workstation to clean himself up. 

“Hell yeah it was,” you agreed, cheering weakly. Your arms were sore as hell and your legs still shook, but you felt amazing. You were on cloud nine, fully satiated. 

“Have a good night, darlin’,” Jay cooed, sleepily. “And good luck with your thesis.”

“Thanks. Night Jay.” You giggled softly, disconnecting the call, rolling over onto your side before drifting off to sleep.

The next few days were a breeze. You were in an advantageous mood thanks to Jay, and so you added four more pages to your thesis. You only had six pages left. 

On Saturday morning you woke up earlier than usual and decided to get dressed and head to your favorite coffee shop. The cafe was only a couple blocks away from your apartment so you walked there. You loved early morning strolls. The gentle wind dancing across your soft skin as the sun began to peak always made you feel alive. 

You left the cafe after the barista handed you your Assam Black tea and breakfast sandwich, while typing a text to one of your lab partners. You took a few steps without looking and collided with someone, dropping both your sandwich and your phone. Luckily, the grip you had on your tea did not falter.  

You both apologized at the same time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I wasn’t even lookin' in front of me.”

“My apologies, darlin’.' ' the man said, bending down to pick up your squished sandwich and unscratched cell phone. 

That voice.

That voice you knew all too well. 

Especially on Wednesday nights.

A cold chill ran across your neck and down your back, “Jay?” you squeaked loudly, staring at him in disbelief as he stood back up with your items in his hands. He stretched out his hands to give them back to you only to stop short, eyes widening in utter shock when he realized what you had called him. 

The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned briefly. It didn’t quite match his eyes at all. “Y/N, I take it?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi.” he said, eyes blinking slowly as he stood there flabbergasted, still holding your belongings in his hands. 

“Nice to meet you.” you continued, extending your hand out for him to shake. 

He shifted your sandwich and phone to his left hand, grabbed your hand with his now-free hand, and shook it twice. “Nice to meet you, too Y/N.” he said, shooting you a toothy grin. God, his smile was to die for. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he checked you out, admiring the view. During your phone calls, he, too, fantasized about what you looked like. He was not disappointed.  

His palm enveloped yours. Damn his hands were large, you thought, gawking at him unapologetically. They were warm and had a few callouses. He must have used his hands a great deal for his other job. He never mentioned what he did for work. 

You hoped that bumping into him wouldn't ruin your Wednesday night dalliances. Maybe he'd be okay with talking somewhere less public. It was quite rowdy both inside and outside of the coffee shop.

“My apartment is two blocks away if you want to go somewhere more private so we can talk.” you babbled, no longer able to look at him in his intense, pecan brown eyes for too long due to your shyness coming at it at an all time high. Fuck he was intimidating. The confidence he exuded had your mouth watering. 

Christ, he was sex on a stick. The man only had on a dark gray shirt, blue jeans that hugged him in all the right places and working boots. A warm flush crept across your face and neck. Get it together, girl, you thought to yourself. He barely said two full sentences to you and you were already hot and bothered. To be fair, he’d been the only one to make you cum every week for the past five and a half months. 

He raised a thick eyebrow at your suggestion — you dropped his hand, gesturing wildly once you realized how your offer must have sounded. “I mean—fuck! I promise I’m not a weirdo, Jay.” 

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled, shaking his head fondly at you, “Joel,” he said. “My name is Joel.”

[esamastation]

Part forty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one

-

The Turks have arranged everything. Sort of. The charcoal burner's house is long abandoned and remote, not close to any main routes, so it would be private. In the books, both Sephiroth and Angeal are taking part in a classified mission with the Turks, which has been approved by both the Director of the SOLDIER program and the Acting Director of the Turks. It would take someone higher up in the Public Security Department to delve deeper than that, and since the President had already given his seal of approval, there's not much even Heidegger can do about it.

"And Rude is bringing everything we'll need to survive," Reno finishes. "Starting today, your priority is sorting out whatever is going on with you, free of distractions, external stressors and hopefully of further incidents."

Sephiroth still seems to be stuck on the getting his shit together part of the mission and apparently isn't sure whether to be insulted or not.

Angeal clears his throat. "And what are we supposed to… do, exactly?"

"Hell if I know," Reno shrugs and nods at Sephiroth. "Figure you'd sort it out by yourself, with your new spooky… whatever it is you got going on. You seem to have some idea."

"Uh," Sephiroth answers. 

Eloquent.

Angeal runs a hand down his face. Then he laughs. "Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed. I didn't really think you'd do anything, but - I'm impressed." And more than slightly intimidated by the connections and liberties the Turks have, but that's not exactly new. "How long do we have?"

"Until further notice, or until someone back in Midgar gets antsy," Reno shrugs. "I'm thinking maybe don't worry about time. If you need more, we will arrange some."

Huh. "This is really that important, then?"

Reno gives Sephiroth a look and then looks at Angeal. "Yeah," he says, a deceptively easy answer.

That's… somehow a little disconcerting. Certainly Sephiroth is invaluable to the program and to the company, but this… this is beyond VIP treatment.

"I see," Angeal murmurs and clears his throat.

Sephiroth finally shakes himself loose from his surprise, enough to look first somewhat sheepish - and then intrigued. "So, I can do whatever I want here?"

"Pretty much," Reno agrees, without any care for how alarming the question is. "And if you need something to further your whatever, we'll get it for you."

"Nice. And there will be no other missions if I don't want to do them right now?" Sephiroth asks.

"You can do them or not as you'd like - none of them have higher priority than this, and they can be delegated to other people, if it comes to that."

Sephiroth runs a hand over his chin. "And if I want access to some material that might be to some extent classified?"

Reno narrows his eyes. "Like what?"

"Haven't decided yet," Sephiroth answers flippantly. "But it might come up."

"... Great. We'll review case by case when we come to it," Reno mutters. "Though you know it's a bitch to get stuff shipped here, right? We're on another continent."

"Yes, yes, it's very impressive," Sephiroth says dismissively and thinks about something for a moment. Then he looks at the charcoal burner's house with a discerning eye. "And you'll be staying here too?" he then asks, glazing at Reno. "To watch us?"

Reno shrugs, unapologetic.

Sephiroth eyes him for a moment and then turns back to the house. "Very well. It will do."

"... Awesome," Reno says and motions. "Go, make yourselves comfortable or whatever. I'm going to walk the perimeter and set some traps."

"Mmhmm," Sephiroth answers, already striding back into the house with a proprietor's casual confidence, and Angeal can just imagine the furniture soon to be rearranged inside.

He hesitates before following and looks at Reno. "What is this really about? It's not just that Sephiroth lost control, is it?"

Reno considers him. "Well, duh, no," he says. "It's the stuff he's been saying in between."

And the abilities he seems to be on the verge of developing. "What's the official view on what's happening to Sephiroth?" What are they expecting from him?

"There isn't one," Reno says and arches his brows meaningfully, and then turns to go.

Angeal's face tightens, and he knows he probably doesn't understand the implications… but then maybe he does. All this effort and all the stuff that's been going on… whatever it is, the company is looking forward to benefiting from it greatly. And they want no one messing with what is happening before they do.

Angeal thinks of the moment Sephiroth communed with the old tree the day before, and for a moment he really wishes it was Genesis here with him instead. Genesis would actually know how to handle all of this. Angeal isn't even sure if he can ask Genesis about this, if he can talk to him about this!

Never mind the fact that Genesis probably has his hands full with whatever is happening back at Shinra Building… the aftermath of Sephiroth's incident and whatever Professor Hojo was doing…

Angeal turns to head inside.

… Where Sephiroth has begun poking around the house, and, of course, is already moving furniture around.

"I see you are all for this," Angeal comments.

"I'll take all the extra time I can get," Sephiroth mutters while carrying a little table to the middle of the main room. "Though I am not exactly happy about being under Turk supervision, I'll take it over the alternative."

Angeal hums, looking around and then deciding that Sephiroth probably doesn't need - or want - his help in decorating. "What's the alternative?"

Sephiroth grimaces and goes to move a bookshelf.

Okay then. Ominous. Angeal sighs and sets the Buster Sword down to lean against the wall near the door, right beside Masamune. "You know they expect something to come from this. For you to… to make it worth their while."

Sephiroth half laughs and half scoffs. "I just bet they do," he agrees and picks up somewhat dusty cushions and considers them with a frown.

Angeal folds his arms. "Are you going to?" he then asks, worried.

Sephiroth pauses and looks away, dropping the cushions by the table in the middle. "No," he says finally. "I don't imagine I will. Regardless," he shakes his head. "This is the next best thing to a full-on seclusion, and I am damn well going to make the most of it."

Angeal doesn't know what that means, but it doesn't matter. "Okay," he says and draws a breath. "Guess we'll… just stay here for the time being, then."

Sephiroth hums in agreement. "Guess so. Does it bother you?"

"No more than anything else around Wutai," Angeal admits and looks up at the ceiling. "We were already looking forward to a prolonged stay in someone's abandoned home. This place is honestly an improvement."

Sephiroth relaxes a little. "Yeah. And hey, the people here weren't chased out or killed by Shinra. That's something."

Angeal looks at him curiously. "How do you know that?"

"The original owner left a scrap piece of letter behind. Apparently they were invited to the capital," Sephiroth says.

… Sephiroth reads the Wutai language? Huh. Angeal didn't know that.

"I guess that's good to know," he says and then sighs. "Okay, so. This… thing you're doing. Your energy alignment stuff. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?"

Sephiroth hesitates between moving some jars around and looks at him. "I need a proper cleared training area," he says and offers him a wry smile. "At least as big as the training room back at Shinra Building."

"I can do that, yeah," Angeal says. "Anything else?"

Sephiroth thinks about it for a moment before setting the jars back down. "I'll let you know."

Angeal nods and gets to it. There's not much he can do when Sephiroth refuses to trust him, but… he'd do what he could.

Hopefully by the end of it, it would be enough.

-

Time for a training montage.

[lantur]

I am now in week three of severe anxiety every day. It's horrible. I haven't had this kind of a sustained anxiety situation in a year. The weekend was rough - I felt very low energy after being so burned out from anxiety.

There are lots of small stressors that have piled up. I've had six big projects at work that have launched over the last 3 weeks, and I was extremely anxious about 3 of those launching. Two of them needed a lot of work leading up to the launch day.

There was drama at work last week related to one of the projects, as I alluded to in a previous post.

We had an Internet outage at home from Thursday of last week until today, which sucks when I work from home and do school as well.

This is the third week my boss has been out on leave and I miss working with her. In her absence, I'm the organizational point of contact and all project lead for our department and it's been stressful. Another colleague is now out on leave this week for the next 10 days and I'm covering for her too.

My mom moved back to India, which caused strong negative feelings in me - as everything she does causes strong negative feelings in me - and she is still texting me invasive and unwanted questions about my fertility treatments.

Exercise is how I cope with anxiety, depression, and ADHD, and I pushed myself too hard running and flared up an old injury.

I'm so tired of daily anxiety attacks. While I'm driving to the gym in the mornings, standing in the grocery store, sitting in the sofa in the middle of the day.

I can't wait for October to start. People will (hopefully) be back at work, and I have a week off in early October to go to Maine with my friends. I just need to get through the rest of this stupid month.

[hasufin]

A quarter century

Almost 25 years ago I got my first job out of college. It was a pretty nice job, working for Sprint. It paid pretty good money - $46K, which was a lot for an entry-level position in Kansas City.

The biggest immediate stressor wasn't the work - I could do that, and I knew I could. It was the dress code. See, the dress code was "business casual". Which is an utterly meaningless term. You ask what it means and you'll get examples but no one can actually define it. It's "More formal than casual, but not a suit". Basically if you look comfortable it's wrong, and if you make a 55-year-old man feel like it should be uncomfortable it's wrong. But they can't explain what's right. And I'd already gotten in trouble at Uni for wearing sandals while working Helpdesk. Some professor was scandalized by bare toes.

So, anyway, I did get my uniform of khakis, slacks, polo shirts, and button-down dress shirts. Like you do.

But the funny thing was, one hard and fast rule at Sprint was no jeans. At least, not if you were going to work at the main campus. Why? Because Bill Esrey, the then-CEO of Sprint, absolutely hated jeans. He was observed running down a hallway once, to catch up to a cabling contractor - a guy running networking cable, a guy who didn't work directly for Sprint at all and who was doing basically construction work - to yell at him for wearing jeans. It was that important to him.

And here's the thing. Did jeans actually make a difference on the job? In a word, no. Could Esrey articulate an actual reason for why Jeans = Bad? He'd mumble some bullshit about professionalism and appearance... but no, he could not. Objectively, not only did jeans NOT detract from job performance, they actually helped most of the time. It turns out that in some jobs practical attire was more important than looks, and in the overwhelming majority of other jobs, it didn't matter what we wore in our cubicles anyway.

But Bill Esrey hated jeans, and he was the CEO, so that was that.

Today, it's telework. For most office workers, it doesn't matter whether we sign on to our conference calls from a cubicle in an office or from our desk at home. Our actual job performance is at least as good, and not spending hours each day playing in traffic has significantly improved our quality of life.

But nonetheless, a bunch of older CEOs and the like don't like long hair^H^H^H jeans ^H^H^H^H telework, and they're in charge.

For now.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hi, so this doesn't seem like your main focus, but you also seem to know a fair amount about it and I could really use an outside perspective ... I hope that's okay, so sorry to bother you if it's not.

Today I was evaluated for cptsd, and, well, one thing is that I wasn't really asked about symptoms like triggers, self perception, stuff like that. Was asked about anxiety and lack of feeling safe, but it might have been after I brought it up.

The main thing I would really appreciate an outside perspective on is that, at the end, I was told I probably wouldn't get the diagnosis, because I didn't have an experience that would have qualified me for ptsd (like assault, SA, DV), and that all my trauma was relational. And I just - I thought that wasn't a requirement? And it's not like she mentioned symptoms not being right for that diagnosis.

My country isn't actually ready to officially diagnose cptsd, it's still being entered, and she acknowledged that, but ... Is that a requirement? Is it something that's being discussed in the psych world?

Again, so sorry if this isn't an okay ask, really hope it's not too bothersome a question ...

That is some bullshit, anon

I am so upset on your behalf, if you can, get a second opinion, because that's ridiculous

Okay, so... normally, in countries where CPTSD from the ICD isn't being used, PTSD is given to those with CPTSD and PTSD.

The DSM even made a couple tweaks to PTSD knowing CPTSD would now be included under it.

CPTSD is specifically about relational trauma-- that's specifically what it's for and what it includes.

That's like saying, "You have so much PTSD that I can't give you a PTSD diagnosis."

That's INSANE

Like, the Dissociative PTSD subtype (what encompasses most CPTSD symptoms in the DSM 5), DESNOS (disorders of extreme stress not otherwise specified), OSTSRD (other specified trauma- and stressor-related disorder) and USTRD (unspecified trauma- and stressor-related disorder) are right fucking there if your doctor wants to split hairs.

What the fuck

Anon, I'm so sorry.

Please, if possible, see another clinician.

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter 8

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: It seems silly to wait a whole week. WC: 2.1K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, a blatant show of testosterone, blood, injuries, kissing, making-out, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk hurt/comfort, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 7 >>> Part 9

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

------

Marcus checks his reflection in the window of Amy’s apartment building one last time, happy to see the swelling around his eye is finally starting to go down. He slips his glasses back on, and checks again, relieved that the black plastic hides the worst of the damage. He must have been something terrible to look at earlier, super strength helping to dull the pain but doing little to hide the gruesome sight of his late-night scuffle. Still, he was pleased with the way the purple had already faded to something more grey, content that the bruise would mostly be gone by morning. 

Amy had been justifiably upset when they left the dark confines of the evidence locker, the bright fluorescent light of the precinct giving her a much better view of the damage done. He had tried to wave it off again, making a half-hearted joke about ‘seeing the other guy’ but she refused to laugh, instead marching him straight back to the bathroom, stopping only long enough to grab the first-aid kit from her desk.

“You can tell me what happened now, or I can just read it in the report that hits my desk Monday morning,” she warned, her sharp tone an odd match to the gentle way she cleaned his wounds. It was clear she’d had practice, and he had to fight back the wave of jealousy that her hands had touched anyone else with the same soft touch. 

“I miscalculated. I thought Miracle was on his way. Plus I didn’t know Baldwin was still working the case.” 

“He sweet-talked Special Crimes. Bought himself a little bit of time.” 

It was almost bolstering to hear that Derek was just as desperate as Marcus to put a stop to all of this, even if their methods were so mismatched. Perhaps success wasn’t so far out of reach despite the loss they took today. 

“And who made mincemeat out of your face?”

Marcus winced as Amy pressed a cotton ball of alcohol to the worst of his cuts, but she paid him little mind, still waiting for an answer to her question. 

“The guy down in holding cell 4.” 

She grew quiet after that, her movements slowing just enough to catch his attention. Marcus took care to grab her hands and hold them tight, waiting for her to say out loud what he already knew. 

“Amy?”

“…he’ll make bail.” 

He nodded, “I’m counting on it.”

It was wrong. Dangerous, even. Stupidly so. It seemed Amy agreed, echoing her plea from earlier, all but begging him to be careful. It had seemed like a good opportunity to kiss her again, and so he did, cupping her cheek to keep her close, as he stole the taste of stale coffee from her lips. When it became apparent neither of them wanted to pull away, laughter broke out between them again, the joyful sound helping to ease the tension that refused to part from this day. After that, Amy suggested he swing by after she got Harris down for bed. 

“Seems silly to wait a whole week.”

Marcus couldn’t agree more. 

Amy’s home feels just as cozy as it did the week prior, the lights dimmed low and the balcony door cracked open, letting a late spring breeze blow through. They settle together on the couch, curled into each other, the last of the wine Marcus brought Thursday split between them, the sound of the city keeping them company in place of the scratch of Amy’s records. 

He's quick to take advantage of the newest state of their relationship, resting the curve of his palm along the bend in her knee, and thrilling at the shade of pink creeping up her cheeks. Not to be outdone, Amy leans over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling at the tickle of his mustache. He steals one of his own before pulling back, just enough for her to settle into his side, her head finding the space between his shoulder and neck. 

“What did you and Harris get up to tonight?”

“Had pizza over at Christine’s then came back home for a few cuddles before bedtime,” she shrugs, a generous sip of wine chasing her answer. “I always say I don’t hate these Saturday shifts until I get home and realize how much time I’ve missed with her.”

“You’re doing great,” Marcus asserts, but without even looking he can see the roll of her eyes and the frown on her face. “You are,” he says again because she is and he means it. 

He knows that guilt just as well as Amy does. That all-too-familiar foe that lingers at the back of his mind, a consistent and constant worry that one parent isn’t enough, could never be enough. He wishes there was a way to wipe it from her mind and put her heart at ease, but Marcus knows that the only solution is to remind her again and again. 

And so he does. 

“You are.”  

He feels her nod, a soft brush of her fingers along his chin before settling back onto his thigh, enough of a cue for him to change the subject. 

“How mad was Baldwin after I left today?”

“Oh, he quieted down not long after,” she hums, her smirk hidden behind her wine glass. “I think your mere presence is a trigger for him these days.”

Marcus can’t help but grin, something like victory blooming in his chest. He lets out a sharp laugh and squeezes Amy’s knee in reply. “Who’s gonna break the news that he’s about to see a whole lot more of me?” 

He’s only half-joking, his lips finding the crown of Amy’s head, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. It feels almost like a dream – one he had been so reluctant even to consider – and the long list of reasons why seemed so stupid with the weight of her resting against him.

“Maybe we just let him figure it out on his own,” Amy offers, the tips of her fingers drumming a pattern out on Marcus’s thigh. It’s slight, the small wave of nerves shifting out of her. It feels like she needs room – or maybe it’s time – to parse through her words, and Marcus is content to wait for her. 

“I just…,” she starts, her breathing shaky along the rim of her glass. “I don’t want things to change.”

He presses another kiss into the crown of her head, this time holding his lips there for her to feel the intent behind them. “It won’t.”

She’s quiet in the wake of his reassurance, leaning deeper into his embrace, her fingers finally stilling where they rest on his leg.

“So you’ll still pop in to awkwardly flirt while I slip you police reports and suspect lists?”

This earns her an amused snort and another kiss, this one to her temple, his lips lingering on the small patch of skin. The feel of it sends a wave of pleasure to the base of his spine, something warm and heady pooling low in his gut. He hums, the sound rough and deep at the back of his throat, the hand on her knee curling tighter to ground him in this moment. He swallows around it, finding his own voice, but just barely.

“My flirting wasn’t that awkward.”

Amy tilts her head to brush her lips along the underside of his chin, her lips parting enough for him to feel her breathe out her gentle tease. 

“Debatable.”

Things fall into place quickly after that. Wine glasses find their way to the coffee table, Amy turning up and around, all of her settling in his lap. Marcus takes care to hold her steady, wrapping his hands around the slip of her waist, eyes finding hers as she leans in for a kiss. She gives just as openly now as she did the first time they kissed, her lips smooth where they meet his own. He parts them easily, his tongue melting into hers, the taste of her better than he remembered. 

Amy is warm and heavy on top of him, one hand curled into his hair, the other clinging to the back of his neck. Marcus almost feels helpless, gripping tighter to her waistline and pulling her closer and closer still, until he swears he can feel the beat of her heart against his own. The heat between them burns brighter, and with it, his hunger for her. He thrusts up, just once, dragging a moan from her between her lips. He swallows the sound, and trades her one of his own, letting the whole of it fill her up. 

Their kisses only grow more frantic from there, a messy press of lips lost in the sound of breathless sighs and hushed pleas. They move together, hips grinding up and down, not nearly enough but still so much in the heat of the moment. Marcus breaks first, gasping for air as his lips pull away. He doesn’t go far, knocking his glasses off and burying his face in the curve of her neck, teeth and tongue finding the salty sting of her skin. 

“M-Marcus…I…it’s been so… so l-long….” Her voice is a whisper, strangled and panting in his ear. It's like music, and he can’t help but bite down harder, officially marking her as his. Amy’s words break off, her hips canting down to meet his own. 

“Shhh, I know. I know,” he promises, soothing the hair off her forehead, refusing to stop even as she presses her lips to his cheek, her mewls almost silent as tries and fails to beg for more. 

It’s intoxicating, knowing he’s making her feel so good; so good he’s stealing the words from her lips, and replacing them with only the pleasure of his touch. He feels light-headed, dizzy, almost lost, his thrusts frenzied but not without purpose. With each drag of his hips, bright white bursts across his vision, his cock painfully hard beneath the weight of Amy. But he doesn’t care. 

Fuck, how he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is how she whispers in his ear, her nails biting into his skin, pleading for him to keep going. As if he would dare to stop. He holds tight to her waist, wondering selfishly if she’ll bruise, pulling and pushing her into him as hard as he can. She winds her arms around his neck, muffling her cries in the turn of his neck. He can only guess at how close she is by the tremor in her muscles, legs and arms shaking where they’re wrapped around him. Already he’s thinking of the next time he has her like this, hungry to hear how loud she can be when given the freedom. How exquisite she’ll sound when she breaks around him, and he’ll take care to put her back together. 

For now, he’s happy, feverishly so, everything falling by the wayside as she gasps out his name, her body locking tight as her orgasm crashes into her. He talks her through the height of it, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her that he can. 

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” Marcus repeats over and over, in awe at how she chases the wave of relief, seemingly desperate to hold on to how good it all feels. He grabs her chin, guiding her mouth to his with a skilled hand, swallowing the last of the quiet gasps she sets free, until finally, she falls against his chest, completely spent, sated. 

Carefully, her body pliant and her breathing even, he tucks her beneath his chin, another kiss gifted to the crown of her head. 

“What about…” she starts, her hips dipping forward to meet his erection, but he shakes his head and holds her steady.

“I just wanted to take care of you.”

She takes the admission in stride, her lips pressing to the hollow dip in his throat, her fingers finding a home where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. He thinks maybe he could fall asleep here, the twist of their bodies tangled on her couch, the city sounds floating in through the dark night, Amy’s warmth enough to keep any chill at bay. 

But neither of them are want for a night on a couch, and it isn’t long before she’s sliding away from him, casting a quick glance down the hall, ensuring the door to Harris’s room is still closed tight. Satisfied with what she sees, Amy turns her attention back to Marcus, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. He can’t help himself, pulling her in for another kiss, the palm of his hand cradling her cheek, and holding her close even as their kiss breaks apart. 

“I think I like this thing we’ve started,” Marcus whispers, the tips of his fingers finding the patch of skin beneath her shirt, the small of her back tacky with the lightest sheen of sweat.  

And then, after a pause, Amy whispers, “Please, be careful.”

And Marcus knew. Without even asking, he knew. 

Be careful with me. With us. Please. 

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

Part 7 >>> Part 9

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

A/N: Would it be a story I wrote if I didn't include my favorite thing in the whole world? Surely not. What can I say? Your girl loves some dry humping.

Big huge thanks to @jazzelsaur who had to listen to me after I wrote this about how fucking hot I accidentally got myself. Who I would be if I couldn't whore around in her DM's?????

[aspd-goose]

Hey I just found your blog today and as someone with did who’s scared of opening up because of the TikTok version of it and the ramcoa conspiracy shit, thanks for speaking out. I’ve been diagnosed for nearly two years and the information has been getting worse and worse. This is not a fun condition to have, and I’m no longer safe to share it even with family I could have trusted four years ago.

If this gets answered publicly and anyone is reading this blog with distaste, I urge you to give it and the correct information about this disorder a chance. It’s a scary world to live in, seeing 13 year old kids believe they were severely tortured, and it’s scarier seeing those communities model the cult formula they’re seemingly so against.

Mental health resources online have been rotted away into aesthetic and identity based spaces. People with did are suffering with daily stressors and how to be a consistent human in their loved one’s lives, and any information we could show our families is either scientific articles that are a bit hard to unpack if you are completely unfamiliar, or carrds made by 12 year olds who got diagnosed by Dr. TikTok.

I don’t know what to do about this and I didn’t mean to turn this into a vent. Basic point- thank you and please keep spreading the narrative that DID and its survivors deserve. Your blog is a light in the dark.

hey anon, thanks so much for the kind words. it means a lot & i'm really glad that i can at least help at little bit. i completely sympathize and relate to your points: the main reason i started this blog is because i am so close to my limit with children & science deniers taking over the resources & aid that exist for these disorders.

in my experience when looking for help with this disorder, DID has been so sensationalized that finding resources that aren't either dense scientific papers or an endo-friendly carrd is nearly impossible, and that's messed up. i remember figuring out years ago that the way i function is both not typical and so extremely similar to DID—i remember looking for symptom management resources and finding endogenic conspiracies instead.

this was in 2021, and it's only gotten worse. the RAMCOA epidemic is genuinely heartbreaking, and i am right there with you watching it. programming a system isn't possible—if not for any other reason, then because most children do not react to trauma with dissociative compartmentalization. you can't guarantee that a child's brain will react in the necessary ways to form DID; it's not possible.

i see you & i'm with you. there's a few other blogs on here that are doing the same stuff that i'm trying to do, and i really hope that we might make you feel a little bit better about the disorder & the future of the community surrounding it. i know i do.

once again: thanks so much for the kind words, and i'm sorry the majority of this community is the way that it is. i see you, i hear you, and you're not alone.

DID survivors have come this far—we can push on through the misinformation.

[sneakers-and-shakes]

Reconnecting With Yourself

I’ve been feeling pretty disconnected from myself lately and haven’t been loving myself to the best of my ability. This inner separation ended up making my anxiety worse and the small things I could normally brush off were getting to me a lot more.

So I set off on a self-love mission. Much like a glow-up week, I’ve been trying to focus my actions on self-care in many different ways. The goal is to relieve my anxiety and reconnect with myself. So today I decided to share my journey and what has helped me!

My body:

Before I could even begin to sort out my life or emotions I really needed to take care of my body. And by that I mean 10 hours of sleep and eating full meals. 

Getting proper rest especially was an essential step for me, I physically felt better which allowed me the brainpower to focus on my emotions.

External Stressors:

There are many different ways to help de-stress and relieve anxiety, especially for things out of our control. Personally, going to the beach helps me put things into perspective. It visually shows me the vastness of the world and how little these problems matter when put in the context of the seemingly never-ending water.

It’s easier to let the waves wash the stress away, so I made the most of this last bit of summer and had a proper beach day in the water.

I think the main takeaway is, even if it’s not the beach, to be outside in nature. You could go on a walk through a forest trail or a run through your neighborhood. Whatever way you can be outside, even if it’s sitting on a bench in a park.

Being in nature helps ease your mind from human-made problems and can help shed some perspective on them when you’re amongst the part of the world that is not affected by your stressors.

Internal Reflection:

Once the external stuff isn’t bugging you as much, you’re left with yourself and that’s where self-love can get deep. 

Usually, it helps to talk things out with someone if you’re having problems, either with them or in general. Journaling is simply a conversation with yourself.

I came up with a Self-Love Countdown, which are 5 questions to start the conversation with yourself about loving and accepting who you are.

The prompts are:

5 Things that bring you joy

4 Accomplishments

3 Parts of your physical appearance that you like

2 Favorite personality traits

1 Thing you love about yourself

This is by no means a comprehensive list and you can find a lot more self-love/self-reflection journal prompts out there but this was a good jumping off point for me.

I also think it’s important to remind yourself just how far you’ve come. I did this by going down memory lane and listing out all the things I had hoped to one day do and then listing all the things that I have done. It reminded me of just how much I’ve accomplished and how much growth I’ve made (especially when comparing how I was back in high school).

You need to give yourself credit for your growth, even if you feel like you’re stepping backwards, growth is not something that can be taken away from you. Always remember that.

A Date With Yourself:

An important part of self-love and reconnecting with yourself is being able to spend time with yourself. Take yourself out on a date and romanticize your life.

And while you’re out, do things that make you happy. Maybe reconnect with a hobby you haven’t done in a while, or go somewhere you like but haven’t been to recently. The goal is to generate joy when you're with just you.

I went to a cafe and sat by the window and wrote for a while. It was peaceful and aesthetic and it felt good to focus on writing since it made me feel extra productive.

You can even journal on your date with yourself as a way to have a conversation. (The way you would if you were on a date with another person.)

Physical Appearance:

It also helps to dress up nicely and feel good about how you look since that will reflect internally as well. Wear clothes that make you feel your best and this might. 

This also may be a good time to do a face mask, get a haircut, do your nails or the other hygiene related things we do not just to take care of ourselves but also to feel good.

Of course you can work out, but only if that’s something you enjoy doing. Throughout this process you have to handle yourself with grace and care and specifically focus on doing the things that bring you joy and happiness.

I ended up getting highlights again after a while of not having them and made an effort to wear the dresses I felt prettiest in.

Physical Space:

As a really organized person my physical space also made a difference. I went through and did a deep clean of my room which made me feel a lot better as well. Having your immediate spaces be clean and put together helps your mind to feel more put together too.

-.-

With all of these things working together, I feel like I’m at a much better place now than I was before. I feel more reconnected with myself and better suited to handle the problems that might come my way.

Remember that this isn’t as straightforward of a process as the way I outlined it. I did these all in different orders over the course of multiple days spanning a week and a half (and not without stumbling blocks either). As long as you’re trying to do these things with intention, you can slowly work your way up.

I hope this helps in your reconnecting with yourself journey, I’d love to hear your thoughts so please leave a comment!

Thanks for reading!

[lyncotek]

Introduction to Car Over Lamination

In this blog we will discuss about Car Over Lamination : In today’s world, in which vehicles are not just modes of transportation however additionally considerable investments, protective their appearance and value turns into paramount. One of the simplest approaches to safeguard your car against the elements is through the artwork of over-lamination. This option provides protection that goes beyond traditional options, ensuring the longevity and beauty of your car for years to come.

Understanding the Concept of Over Lamination

What is Over-Lamination? Over lamination is a protective technique in which a smooth or colored film is applied to the surface of automotive paint or materials. This film acts as a shield, protecting it from scratches, UV rays, dirt, and various external elements that may harm the vehicle.

How Does Over Lamination Work?

The over lamination system entails carefully adhering a thin layer of defensive film onto the surface of the auto. This film is specially designed to withstand various environmental stressors simultaneously and to provide clarity and robustness. Once applied, it blends seamlessly with the car’s paint to form an invisible barrier that supports both safety and aesthetics.

Benefits of Car Over Lamination

Protection Against Environmental Factors One of the main advantages of overcoating is its ability to protect the vehicle from a wide range of environmental hazards. Whether it’s road debris, bird droppings or harsh weather conditions, the protective film acts as a barrier, preventing damage and preserving the car’s pristine appearance.

Enhanced Aesthetic Appeal In addition to protection, over lamination also can decorate the visual appeal of the car. The obvious film continues the original coloration and shine of the paint at the same time as adding a sleek finish that accentuates the car’s curves and lines.

Maintenance of Resale Value By making an investment in over lamination, automobile proprietors can make sure that their cars retain their resale price over time. The defensive movie acts as a guard in opposition to put on and tear, minimizing the need for steeply-priced upkeep and maintaining the car’s market enchantment.

Types of Car  Over Lamination

Clear Bra  Car Over Lamination Clear bra over lamination is a famous choice among car owners seeking most safety without compromising aesthetics. This without a doubt invisible movie gives an extra layer of defense against scratches, chips, and different varieties of harm, all while preserving the authentic appearance of the car.

Vinyl Wrap Car Over Lamination Vinyl wrap over-lamination offers a more customizable approach to car safety. Available in lots of hues and finishes, this form of over-lamination lets in automobile proprietors to customize their cars whilst simultaneously safeguarding them from environmental dangers.

Choosing the Right Over Lamination for Your Car

When selecting an over-lamination option for your car, several factors should be considered:

Consideration of Budget Different forms of over-lamination range in fee, so it is essential to determine your budget earlier than you decide. While clear bra over-lamination may be extra pricey in advance, it often pays off in the long run with its superior safety and sturdiness.

Longevity and Durability The longevity and durability of the over laminated film are important issues, especially for those looking for long lasting protection. The clear bra over-lamination is known for its durability and resistance to yellowing, setting it apart from motors that withstand extreme conditions.

Desired Level of Protection The degree of protection required may range relying on elements which include wherein you live and how often you power. Clear bra over-lamination offers the highest level of protection against physical damage, making it perfect for day by day drivers and excessive-mileage automobiles.

The Over Lamination Process

Surface Preparation Before applying the over lamination film, the auto’s surface have to be very well cleaned and prepped to make certain proper adhesion. Any dirt, grease, or imperfections can affect the quality of the set up, so meticulous education is critical.

Application of Over-Lamination Film Once the surface is prepared, special tools and techniques are used to carefully apply the overblown film. The film is stretched and molded to the contours of the vehicle, providing complete coverage and a seamless finish.

Quality Assurance Once the overproduced film is loaded, a final inspection is carried out to ensure that the loading meets the highest quality standards. Any imperfections or air leaks are addressed and adjustments are made as necessary to achieve a flawless result.

DIY vs. Professional Installation

Pros and Cons of DIY Installation While some vehicle proprietors can also choose a DIY method to over-lamination, there are several drawbacks to keep in mind. DIY kits frequently lack the best and durability of professional-grade materials, leading to inferior consequences and capacity harm to the automobile’s surface.

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Conclusion

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FAQs on Car Over Lamination

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Q: Is over-lamination environmentally friendly? A: Many manufacturers now offer eco-friendly over-lamination options made from recyclable materials, helping to minimize environmental impact.

[fzzr]

What Is It About Dinner Parties?

Spoilers for:

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Shrek 2

A Civil Campaign (Vorkosigan Saga book 13)

The Nightmare Stacks (Laundry Files book 7)

I recommend every one of these works, with the caveat that you should really get into their respective series where applicable for the best results. Spoilers will not completely ruin the experience, but if you have the patience and opportunity to watch three movies and read several thousand pages, go do that first. (After is acceptable if you prefer.) When obtaining books remember to first check at a library or local bookstore. Do not buy from Amazon if you can avoid it. Audible is Amazon.

Content advisories: Works discussed here include depictions of sexual assault, murder, cannibalism, adultery, and various anti-LGBTQ+ phobias. (Rocky Horror is the main offender but some of the others contribute.) Additionally this explores awkward social situations in great detail, so you may want to skip if that sort of thing lives in your head.

I have noticed that fictional works often use scenes at dinner parties as key turning points in their stories. This is achieved through a combination of rising tension, humor, and tying together many plot threads at once. It's possible to do something similar without the humor (eg. the Hitchcockian suspense of a bomb under the table) but that's not what I'm looking at today.

A note on definition: when I say “dinner party” here, I mean a social event in which a group of people who do not share a household meet for the main purpose of sharing a meal. This is different from a regular party, gala, ball etc. where activities other than the meal are the focus.

In my observation, the anatomy of a dinner party is as follows:

Stage Zero: Setup

A key element will be the interactions between characters who would prefer not to deal with each other. There are a few ways to build the guest list to achieve this. You can have the simple case of someone bringing a plus one without warning in advance who (or what kind of person) they would be. It's also possible that invitations were sent before a conflict came up, or the host may be unaware of the issue. There may also be a broader social obligation on attendees, such as a holiday. Wholly uninvited guests usually don't happen in this sort of scene (those are more characteristic of less intimate social events, like a charity ball turned hostage situation).

Rocky Horror's dinner party takes place right after several less than fully consensual sexual encounters and a very bloody murder, with the characters being assembled through social force and implied threat of violence. Shrek 2 has it as the first sustained interaction between the title character and his royal in-laws after his elopement with Princess Fiona. A Civil Campaign spends about half the book just building up to this event, with protagonist Miles so focused on making it a success for his main goal that he loses control of the guest list, the menu, and even the staff. In The Nightmare Stacks, it's a family meal introducing two prospective (and unconventional) significant others to the parents at the same time.

Stage One: Civility

The scene begins with all parties acting superficially civilly. The threads of the narrative and the stressor are both on the back burner as action begins. There will be hints of the conflicts to come, especially as the principal characters become aware of the full guest list and its implications. This phase may be very brief, or even skipped if the story uses immediately previous scenes to establish sufficient tension.

The Rocky Horror party's first minute strains the definition of "civility", with awkward silence accompanying deliberately sloppy table service. Shrek 2 likewise uses silence to delay interaction as long as possible. A Civil Campaign has a very large cast to introduce, but the atmosphere is casual with just a hint of stress as Miles does his best to manage the bloated guest list. The Nightmare Stacks barely gets everyone in the door before the incompatibility of hosts and guests becomes apparent.

Stage Two: Interaction

This generally starts with the appearance of food and of necessity seating of guests. This is the point where the characters in conflict are first forced to interact rather than passively stay away from each other. It's possible for this stage to still be indirect, but proximity means that there's no way to sustain the illusion of civility.

In Rocky Horror they can't even finish singing "Happy Birthday" before things start to escalate. Shrek 2's initial interactions are wordless, using the series' signature facial expressions to show to what degree everyone is already hostile or unaware. A Civil Campaign has Miles realize his carefully arranged seating positions have been disturbed by someone with different priorities, but most of the social tension is surprise rather than hostility. The Nightmare Stacks stumbles past this step right into the next when it turns out the guests have mutually exclusive dietary preferences.

Stage Three: Conflict

Next, some minor issue arises, like one character breaking a social convention. There is almost universally some issue with the food itself as well. Depending on the number of characters and plot of the story, this can go on for some time. This is often where most of the comedy of the scene comes in. Events may become more and more absurd, allowing things to escalate without over-burdening the reader with stress. Often the issue isn't even directly related to the core conflict of the story, or starts with a lower-stakes side plot. In doing so, it can weave such plots into the main one.

Rocky Horror is already under so much stress that it takes just the smallest spark to get things burning. Shrek 2 likewise gets here quick, as Shrek's cluelessness with regard to etiquette kicks off an escalating series of indirect and then direct criticisms. In A Civil Campaign the awkward seating arrangement makes social interaction difficult, and Miles realizes that the menu has been undermined in a way that could cause an uproar and deeply offend some very senior guests. The Nightmare Stacks lays on the dramatic irony, where a conservative father is too busy learning about gender nonconformity to worry whether his son is actually dating an Unseelie Fae princess (the answer is "unclear", but only about the "dating" part).

Stage Four: Eruption

The issue that led to the tension established before the scene is exposed to all present. More often than not this is caused by something in the comedic action accidentally exposing concealed information or causing a stressful event to be discussed or even repeated. Sometimes the comedy itself is the issue, with the disruption alone being enough to expose the issue eg. if it’s due to contrasting social norms. Regardless, this is the climax of the scene where everything comes to a head at once.

Shrek 2 kicks into high gear, with characters becoming so incoherent they can only scream out each other's names. Rocky Horror and A Civil Campaign reveal the truth about the meal they've been eating. The lack of coordination in A Civil Campaign causes Miles to move forward his social plans to disastrous effect. The Nightmare Stacks has the meal collapse into such disarray that the protagonists are able to escape unscathed.

Stage Five: Tone Shift

The comedy is (usually) suspended and drama kicks in. This is often also a turning point in the larger story. It may mark an act transition (typically second to third) or just a change in the intensity of the conflict. In a romantic comedy, this is a prime opportunity to get into the things-just-got-serious phase where the core relationship is under threat.

Rocky Horror's dinner party serves to launch the climax by getting everyone in place for the final showdown. In Shrek 2, where it's the act two kickoff, it establishes the stakes that Shrek can't simply slide into place as a socially acceptable fiancé for Fiona. In both A Civil Campaign and The Nightmare Stacks, the result of the dinner party is the revelation of the true intentions of a main character, respectively openly courting another (it's complicated) and tricking her counterpart into meeting her parents (it's complicated). They both leave the protagonists with few paths open to them and even fewer good ones.

Why do they work like this?

I think the main thing that makes the dinner party so effective at progressing a story in both plot and tone is the contrast between natural and unnatural human interaction. Sharing food is one of the most basic interpersonal activities, with archeological evidence going back further than anatomically modern humans. This is in tension with the artificiality of the actual situation, where precise details of food presentation, respect for social norms, and personal behavior are under scrutiny from individuals you may not fully trust. Food in general also has a visceral impact on everyone. No one is sophisticated enough to willingly eat all of "Meatloaf", escargot, "bug butter", and vegan "pizza", so you as the consumer of the work are forced into empathy with the characters.

Given a scene where everyone is under stress by default, you add on the wider context of the story. Any plot where progress is blocked by "well what if everyone who isn't getting along just avoids each other" is immediately reinvigorated. It's often the case that not everyone is aware of other moving parts, so things can move forward by broadening the impact of ongoing issues to the rest of the cast. If it's too early in the story for things to really blow up, the dinner party can still raise the stakes or expose fault lines that were previously unseen.

If you accept either of the theories that humor is built on tension and unexpected relief or on juxtapositions between the familiar and the incongruous, the natural/artificial split in the dinner party setup also provides these. Everyone on both sides of the fourth wall expects a certain degree of decorum, but it soon goes out the window and leaves you and the characters equally off balance. Likewise, the sharing of food presupposes that everyone can actually partake in the food presented, and undercutting that is a further violation of the common vision of what a dinner party should be. The way characters react to that challenge is another easy hook for comedy.

Conclusion

Putting it all together, dinner parties really do it all. Tension and release, humor and drama, heightening and resolution - the dinner party has the tools you need. Next time you read or watch a dinner party scene, think about the role it plays in the story and the way it's constructed to fulfill it. They're some of my favorite scenes, and I bet they could be some of yours too.

Detailed Examples

Originally I planned to give each spoiler-warned work a stage-by-stage breakdown, but they needed so much context that tumblr's editor broke. Instead I will give them dedicated posts and update this one as I go.

[bvannn]

Weekly Update April 26, 2024

I just finished the biggest final project for this semester so my biggest stressor should be gone. I still have a couple lab reports to finish up and an analysis assignment but then I should be clear, and I have all next week to do that. I’m still planning on moving slow on any art projects next week, although having more free time will mean I’ll inevitably do something artsy. This week was slow though.

The main thing I did was work on the comic, it is now 11% done if we round generously. I sketched out the next page, which has more panels, but also more character drawings and less backgrounds. Still a lot, though. I’d like to try at that tonight, if I have time after homework.

I also took another bite out of storyboarding the OEB video, it’s 20% done. Not too far along but not bad either. A few of the upcoming shots should be a lot quicker to storyboard, and I’m trying to listen to the song more so I can picture the video easier.

I’m thinking more about future music but didn’t really throw any together except that 13/8 beat. And even then good chance I’ll change the chord progression or instrumentation. I don’t plan to progress on that one for a while, if I get any other music done it’ll be that SOS medley or another spur of the moment beat. I want to finish the OEB and WOTW videos and lyrics for the other songs, first.

I didn’t do a whole lot of writing either. I’m getting unstuck on that epithet TTRPG module, but still need to plan encounters and redo the boss fight plan for the third time. It’s fine it’ll get done.

Since today was a decent weight off my shoulders and I was told I am good to go back to plasma donations, I should be okay. I’d like to do something tonight but no promises, I will need to sleep too. I’ll get back to things soon. Next week I’ll be wrapping up the last of the semester, and I’ll try to get a schedule for the coming weeks done too. From there I’ll try chipping away at comic as priority one, OEB priority 2, and TTRPG as priority 3.

[britcision]

Today feels like a good day for this

So there’s two main ways of playing your ttrpg characters that I’ve seen from my players and other people telling me about their games

1) protagonist - you want to be the main character. The most important, impressive one in the room, with all the good rolls and everything works all the time

Weirdly, I have also only seen this from the edgelords? And it’s definitely not a hard rule, but it’s a firm trend. So they also have to be the most tragic, with the angiest backstory, the biggest victims of every wrong but oh they’re never affected by it

They’re not scared of anything, they’ve always seen worse, they never show their real feelings and they’re always in total control

This can soooort of work? If you are playing the right game, with the right people? But it is inherently uncollaborative because one person can’t lead every scene all the time, and when the rolls don’t match the inner narrative people tend to get upset

It feels more personal when something doesn’t work out because your story becomes personal wish fulfilment, and it feels like you have failed rather than just an unlucky roll

2) feral toddler with barbies - your character is your sweet little bean and you Want To Fuck Them Up

This is the fandom whump style, putting the horse in the plinko machine, and every single time something bad happens it is a wonderful opportunity to mess up your baby

This is much less focused on the end result and much more focused on having the most fun in the journey, which tends to work really really well in bigger groups where crime can be committed

Other players have other barbies and you tell stories by smashing them together, making them kiss or fight or commit tax fraud, and sometimes one of the barbie’s heads flies off to a far corner and you need to improvise

Now, these are two ends of a spectrum, and neither of them have anything to do with the characters, the game, or the story being told

It’s about how you react to the little moments, to the pieces controlled by chance, or to when something doesn’t go the way you expected it to

You don’t control which one you start with, although newer players might find themselves leaning towards “protagonist”, especially if they play a lot of games or video games with a single Player Character

It’s familiar, it’s what we’re used to in single player, and it’s really fun for character creation to invent this super cool person you’re gonna run around and fight dragons (or space robots) with…

But it’s also more stressful in a multiplayer game where there is always more than one protagonist

Ensemble stories are hard (and trust me I write them enough to know). Not everyone is in every scene, and time is limited so you have to work together and give each other prompts to get the stories you want out

It’s still really important to pay attention to scenes your character isn’t in, and to remember that… yeah, you can ping another player out of game to say “hey ask about my Tragic Backstory/Cool Weapon/Long Lost Sibling”

And they can also tell you what to ask about to get to the cool bits of their character’s lore, which is Just As Good As Doing Yours! Everyone gets to be cool together!

It’s actually something we’ve butted up against as a full game of newbies a lot; people want to be asked about something, but in a natural way, so they can’t mention in game that they want to be asked. And of course, the dreaded “my character would never talk about this”

(They’d never want to, my darling. You, their player, both want to and Can Make Them by having fellow players or the dm apply stressors)

Or they focus on wanting their story told, and if someone else comes in with “oh I get it I also had a little brother” or “shit you also heard about that evil wizard? This is what I know” it feels like losing control of the scene

But it’s a multiplayer game. The scene’s still about you even if it’s not only about you, and if you find yourself playing in the protagonist style and getting frustrated… maybe what you actually want to do is write the story of this cool character

Writing is hard but you control the environment, the outcomes, and your special character is the center of the narrative in a way that doesn’t work for a multiplayer game

If you’re playing the game and getting frustrated a lot and writing doesn’t appeal, it might be time to look at your character through the fandom lens

Put them in silly situations for fun and profit

Make them uncomfortable and remember that the important thing isn’t what your character wants. It’s what you want

We don’t rotate the blorbo in our heads because it’s what the blorbo wants; if you love whumpy fan content, whump your heckin’ character

If you want to talk about something the character never would, fucking make them. Put them in a vulnerable spot and poke their weak points until it all comes spilling out

Because… yeah. There’s a line where “being in character” can very easily translate to “doing what the character wants to do”, and there is one critical problem when that line blurs:

If you always back away and close off from the parts of the story your character wouldn’t want to talk about, you don’t get to talk about those parts of the story

Because woe of woes, your fellow players might respect those boundaries! They might see that you’re backing away and assume it’s because you the player don’t wanna go there!

But you do, so bad, and it’s so hard to see how to break that cycle without breaking character once you’re inside

You need to open the doors that’ll put your character in the place they don’t want to be, but gets you those delicious vulnerable tragic scenes that lead to the real bonding

You will not roll the perfect crit every time for the perfect story, so the sooner you lean in the more fun failure is and the more you can work out your ideal balance of “well I rolled a one at intimidation and normally I’m very scary, but I guess I put my fist down on the table right in a blob of ketchup”

My earliest rule for our game was “I am not going to railroad your characters. You need to decide why they’re staying with the party because I will not force them to if they don’t want to, and you can roll a new one”

Cuz that’s the whole point: player agency matters so much more than character agency. It’s your character. You are their fandom baseline.

And you’re the one making the canon, so you can put everything you’ve ever wanted in it

Make that dramatic and edgy character who wants to be the center of attention, and then you the player subvert it to watch them flail

Make that stern and taciturn character who’s Hardened and Doesn’t Make Friends and then conspire with fellow party members for tiny scenes like them being handed a flower and staring at it for a minute, then keeping it

Make the silly, happy go lucky flirty character, and then wind them up until they crack and all the top secret Hidden Lore comes pouring out

Do bad things to your characters for fun and profit my loves

You aren’t the character, you’re the story teller, so work with everyone to tell the story you’ve always dreamed of

[goofygooberton]

This was an interesting video. His main points were that Gen Z has more stressors and is then more likely to turn to distractions or substances, and he explained how that impacts anesthesia dosages and your mental state when you wake up from anesthesia. I really liked his point about how suffering is too normalized (not that there’s less social stigma around it, but that depression and loneliness is seen as just a part of life and we’ve given up hope on ever feeling better).

The biggest shocker though is that adolescence isn’t normally associated with intense loneliness. I’m currently in my late teens, and it’s impossible for me to imagine a scenario where I didn’t spend the past four years of my life being really, really lonely. I like the top comment about how the way cities are planned today isn’t conducive to social interaction, ofc there are other causes (the pandemic) but that one is a particularly big one for me. Loneliness feels like a natural part of life at this point, so much that I don’t really like watching shows/movies/books about teenagers because I can’t suspend my disbelief when the characters have flourishing social lives. I really wish things were different.

[icaruskey]

So. I quit my seasonal job today. It's for multiple reasons, but the main one is school. School was just too much a stressor and I needed the one day for wrapping up my projects.

Like fuck. I just worked from 5 to 12:30 and I didn't get everything on my list done.

The other was the fact that since I was the only one in the stall I couldn't eat. I couldn't go to the bathroom. If I wanted to leave for a minute, I'd have to close the entire stall and *I wasn't without a customer for more than five minutes*.

A far lonely third reason is the couples. Just watching the couples so happy together hurt. And I can feel the walls I've been putting up fracturing like my fucking therapist said would happen. I hate she's always right about this shit.

So I'm using the next couple Saturdays for school and then I'll let my boss at the grocery store I want to work Friday through Monday over the break.

It's a loss of money for now. But there are good things in the future imo. So. I'll stay hopeful. And get this semester done.

Honestly I'm more worried about the fact I'm not. Tired? Am I in a manic episode and I'm not noticing because of my medication? I would've thought I'd be on the other side of the pendulum but??? Idk.