#and contributed so much to my initial burnout

[000png]

i'm actually really excited for my first masters practice tomorrow hhhhhh

[elitadream]

Hi guys~! ⛅👋

Long time no see! Much longer than I ever intended, in fact. Truth be told, I wanted to make a public post sooner, but I've had a lot to catch up on in terms of notifications and messages since logging back in a few days ago. I've also made some changes that I will address shortly, but first of all I wanted to thank those of you who have reached out with so much care and understanding during my absence. Adjusting has been a slow and fragile process for me -still is-, and I sadly haven't responded directly to everyone yet because of it, but I wanted to say how much I appreciate your patience and support nonetheless. 🥹 🙏

Long story short, I was gone for five months due to a huge burnout, then progressively found my spark again somewhere along the way and have since mostly recovered. It was my wonderful friend @drones-of-innocence who reached out to me outside of Tumblr, and her sense of initiative is largely the reason why I managed to make this post in a somewhat reasonable delay. 😅💖 With that said however, I must also mention that I've deleted a lot of stuff from my page and have removed most of my work from the public eye as well. This may seem quite drastic and frankly a little unsettling, but I assure you that it was a thoroughly considered and reasoned decision! The thing is that I was still getting lots of notes on these drawings everyday and… To put it simply, I didn't want that anymore. 🙇‍♀️ Experiencing popularity was very detrimental to me in the long run and I needed to put an end to it for the sake of my own wellbeing; at least for now.

Which brings me to my next point.

After mulling it over for a while, I've decided that I would not be returning as an active creator in the Mario community this time around. 👐 Making fanart for this franchise (with such a high and continuously maintained degree of involvement) had a lot to do with my health's decline and I've come to realize that I wanted to direct my focus elsewhere going forward. For that reason, there are things which I know will never be repeated again in the future, both in regards to my art and online presence in general, but that's alright. Things change, as they do and should. I'm looking forward to reuniting with folks and would be very happy to stay in touch with those of you who wish to message me privately. Like my lovely pal @istadris said, what matters most about any fandom are the friends you make in it. ☺️

And speaking of which-

@ody-and-fanatu That's so sweet of you, thank you! 💗 I'm glad you've enjoyed my contribution to the fandom. It was fun while it lasted! 💫 My visual ideas may be gone from my page, but most of my written posts and replies are still there for anyone who wants to revisit those at least, so there's that! And I'd also like to answer some of the asks I still have in my inbox at some point. Knowing that you hold my art in such high regard makes really happy! 🥰 Unfortunately, the other account that I have is reserved for my professional work and I prefer to keep them separate from one other, but the good thing is that I intend to go back to this blog occasionally. Hoping to see you around! Cheers! 🥂

@heiressofdoodles Thanks, I appreciate that! ✨ I'm honestly doing much better than I was earlier this Spring. Back then, I was running on empty and on the verge of crashing without even knowing it. Being in constant physical pain was one thing, but feeling mentally and emotionally drained on a daily basis was another entirely, and something had to be done. It took me a moment to really figure out what was wrong, but thankfully I realized very quickly what was causing it and applied the breaks with all my might. One of my main priorities now is to be more alert and respect my own boundaries to make sure that this never happens again. 🥲

@keakruiser Thank you. 🙏💐 I'm just glad to have found my footing again. Feels good to be able to create freely.^^ Hope you're doing well too!

Special thanks also to @pianokantzart, @jelly-fish-wishes, @katlyntheartist, @triniji and @wahooitsamee for their kind words. 🫂 Your graciousness and consideration means a lot to me. 💝

As for all the nice people who sent me anon comments and well wishes, I tried to summarize my thoughts as best I could in this update, but if there's anything else you'd like to say or know, don't hesitate to ask me anytime! Now that I feel like myself again, I think I'm gonna hang out on Tumblr for a little bit. I'll be excited to see what you guys have been up to in the meantime! 🤗 Wishing you all a very good day and pleasant Fall. 🍂

-elita 🌸

[whumpdoyoumean]

writing ask game 27? (favorite and least favorite part of writing)

Ooh, this is a surprisingly tough one, just because my initial thought is, "Well, my favorite part of writing is writing the scenes I'm excited to write and my least favorite part is writing the scenes I am not excited to write" which feels pretty surface level and obvious haha.

Umm I think my favorite part is getting into a character's head, especially if it's a character I haven't written for much. There's something that is so magical about getting something on the page that feels very in-character. Whether that's a piece of dialogue, or a decision they're making, or a facial expression...I really enjoy the process of finding out who a character is to me and then making that come to life.

My least favorite part is my perfection paralysis, which looks like me getting stuck rewriting a single sentence a dozen times, or doing hours of research for what ends up being a single inconsequential line because I want to make sure that every single aspect of the fic is accurate and makes sense. It gets super tiring and is one of the biggest contributing factors when I get burnout. :/

Thank you for your ask!!!

[ladylofspades]

Art Exhibitions and HR

It's been a VERY LONG WHILE since I last posted here.

This is gonna be a work-related rant, so if it's not anyone's interest to read on, kindly skip this post.

First off, art exhibitions.

I never was involved in art exhibitions in any way. So when an opportunity arose that I will get to make collateral for the art exhibition, I was delighted!

I've always wanted to work in one, so I was curious and excited when I was given this assignment.

Now this is where it gets messy.

My superior asked me if I can fix a Slides presentation for the art exhibition proper, to which I happily agreed to do. Since there were 8 foreign and local speakers, it resulted to 70+ slides in total. There's no problem at all. But when asked when the presentation is needed, it was the next day for the exhibition talk.

.... yeah, THE VERY NEXT DAY.

Of course, we had to do this because all the school's administrators and the foreign visitors will be there. So the pressure was very high. And the exhibition director was so nitpicky with the details to the point that we finished the Slides presentation until evening.

Take note: I have to commute coming to and from school.

(I work for a school here)

Once I got home, I cried in my pillow because of the stress.

Skip to the next day, I was told to be at the presentation site's tech booth by 8am for the tech runs. So far, the presentation worked without a problem -- until we were told that the whole presentation/program didn't have a script.

So I was like, "So... we're just going to guess when to press the button to get to the next slide??? Instead of giving us the script/guide to base the program from, we have to guess when the speaker is done with one slide before going to the next???"

I ended up in the tech booth to the clicker. I get anxiety attacks so this wasn't good for me. It was a miracle that the flow of the program was smooth-sailing -- but it really left me scarred.

As soon as the program was done, I breathed in relief -- until we were slammed with the collateral requests. That was my initial reason to contribute into the exhibition. Preparing what needs to be printed was easy -- but when you're only given 3 days to fix everything, now that's a key to burnout alongside the other assignments given to me.

Since the opening program was held on a Wednesday, the collaterals were supposed to be done by Friday so that they can be printed days before the exhibition proper.

But nope: they had me work on weekends, even if I had a sore right wrist.

Then after all that hardwork, the exhibition proper went smoothly -- JUST for additional signage to be requested.

Welp, it's hard to do stuff if they keep piling up.

===

Now for the HR part:

Apparently, HR has beef with the office I'm in. So much so that they would postpone our request to hire new people for our team for more than 2 years.

I noticed that all the other departments get to hire new people, except us. Are they trying to make us suffer??

Regardless, I want to get out of this toxic workplace.

[babyspacebatclone]

I shall simply contribute “Yes, this is powerfully emotionally accurate to my own experiences, ouch.”

And provide the image transcript below cut.

The post contains three images, which are photographs of the text of a physical book. The second image in particular shows warping of the text due to the page sloping into the spine.

(first image begins mid sentence:)

… and socially withdrawn, and I truly believed I did not need other people. I'd moved to the city for graduate school and figured I could pour all my energy into classes and research and think of nothing else.

Solitude had worked pretty well for me up to that point. I had excelled academically, and living a "life of the mind" kept me from worrying too much about my many problems. I had an eating disorder that had ravaged my digestive system, and gender dysphoria that made me resent how other people saw me, though I didn't yet understand why. I didn't know how to approach people or initiate conversations, and I didn't care to learn, because most interactions left me feeling irritated and unheard. The few relationships I did have were enmeshed; I took responsibility for others problems, tried to manage their emotions for them, and lacked any capacity to say "no" to unreasonable requests. I didn't know what I wanted out of life, other than to become…

(second image)

a professor. I didn't want a family, I didn't have hobbies, and I believed I was incapable of really being loved. But I was getting good grades and my intellect earned me a lot of praise, so I just focused on those strengths. I pretended all the rest was a meaningless distraction.

When graduate school began, I rarely went out with my new class-mates. The few times I did, I had to get completely hammered to over come my inhibitions and seem "fun." Otherwise I spent whole weekends alone in my apartment, reading journal articles and falling down strange internet rabbit-holes. I didn't let myself have hobbies. I barely exercised or cooked. I’d occasionally hook up with people if I wanted sex or even just a little attention, but every interaction was impassive and rote. I had no sense of myself as a multifaceted human being.

By winter of that year I'd turned into a lonely, isolated wreck. I’d spend an hour sitting in the shower while the hot water rained down on me, lacking the will to stand up. I had trouble speaking to other people. I couldn't think of any research ideas and lost all interest in what I was studying. One of my supervisors chewed me out for rolling my eyes at her during meetings. At night bone-shaking sobs of despair and overwhelm would overtake me, and I'd pace around my room, whimpering and striking myself in the temples with the heels of my hands. My solitude had somehow become imprisoning, but I was too lacking in social skills or emotional self-awareness to get myself out of it.

I couldn't understand how I'd gotten myself into that miserable position. How was I supposed to know I needed friends, and a life?

How could I go about connecting with others, when every effort was so unsatisfying? What did I actually enioy or care about? Around people, I felt I had to censor every natural reaction, and pretend to have interests and feelings that were normal. Plus, people were so over whelming. They were all so loud and erratic, their eyes like painful laser beans boring into me. All I wanted to do was sit in the dark and not be bothered or judged.

I believed something was fundamentally wrong with me I seemed…

(third image)

to be broken in ways I couldn't explain, but which everyone else could see at a glance. I spent several more years languishing like this, working myself to the point of burnout, having emotional breakdowns, relying on romantic partners for social contact and a sense of worthiness, and googling things like "how to make friends" in the middle of the night. Through it all, I never considered asking for help or sharing with anyone how I felt. I lived by a very narrow set of rules, and remaining independent and invulnerable was chief among them.

I read the Introduction to Unmasking Autism by Dr. Devon Price tonight

i finally feel heard:

[thebibliosphere]

Hey Joy, this isn't a question so much as a way for me to convince myself I'm not a hypochondriac, lol. Lately, I've been experiencing symptoms of fatigue, brain fog or memory issues, light-headedness, etc, that are uncommon for my age (30). I have related disorders such as anemia, anxiety, & ADHD that may be contributing to these symptoms, although they seem to have gotten worse or appear more frequently now than when I was initially diagnosed with those disorders. My work allows me to read & interact with disabled people with rare diseases, so I often find similarities with their medical issues. At first, I thought this was all just burnout or something related to the lockdown during COVID. I just saw my doctor and had blood work done to check my levels, and I may have a heart condition (tachycardia, mitral valve prolapse). I've fallen asleep at work before because I can't keep my eyes open, even after a full 8 hours of sleep. I can get dizzy from standing up too fast & can't seem to be on my feet for very long without discomfort & pain (I used to work retail, how did I ever do it?). I've researched some of my symptoms and found ME/CFS and POTS as possible conditions. Do you think it's a possibility I have these, or is it just my anxiety? Thank you! (P.s. Hunger Pangs is on my tbr!)

I obviously cannot tell you with any certainty what is wrong--and I am glad you are seeing doctors about it already and may have possible answers wrt tachycardia and the mitral valve.

What I will say is that there are many types of dysautonomia, of which POTS is one, and that what you are describing sounds very familiar to me as someone with two known types of dysautonomia.

The fact that this is hampering your quality of life to the point where you fall asleep at work, are unable to stand without getting dizzy, and are experiencing chronic pain, is enough of a reason to pursue further testing for things like dysautonomia and, yes, possibly even ME/CFS though given your history of anemia, I'm inclined more toward dysautonomia because the two often go hand in hand.

Also, it is normal to feel anxiety experiencing these types of symptoms. Even if it turns out to be a symptom of your anxiety, doesn't make the experiences any less real and debilitating, and you deserve treatment that will help improve your quality and comfort of life. And there is treatment and things you can do that will make you feel better. Getting your anemia under control should be a top priority if it isn't already. Mines was allowed to go untreated for years until we found out my iron anemia was being caused by pernicious anemia (b12 deficiency), and the iron anemia I'd been plagued with since birth suddenly cleared up.

Years and years of blood transfusions and infusion treatments, and the whole time I needed b12. Who knew? Certainly not my old doctors.

Anyway. If your symptoms are at the point where you are recognizing yourself in things like POTS? It's time to pursue that with your doctor. Don't put it off because you think it's not that bad or others have it worse. Everyone deserves to feel well.

Good luck.

[rqnvindr]

put on a show

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

genre: fluff, fake dating, f2l, modern!au

warnings: language and scara being scara but that’s it lol

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: scaramouche agrees to be your fake date at your company’s christmas party, which leads to an unexpected fate brought to you by feelings

a/n: this is a gift for @sungie for axia’s secret santa exchange! it’s nice to meet you and i hope you enjoy this piece that i put together!

--

you were exhausted after work. the holidays were undeniably the worst time to have an office job for a larger company. stacks of never-ending documents along with dozens of unread emails still sat unattended and all had to be completed before christmas. 

and on top of that, there was the annual christmas party.

planning it wasn’t a big deal. you were used to that and knew that everybody loved the holiday cookies you were contributing for the potluck. but you had been working there for 2 years and not once have you ever brought a plus-one, to which your coworkers were starting to jab you for. they truly didn’t mean any harm; they were an agreeable, friendly crowd that you were grateful to work with. yet, their suffocating attempts to get closer to you pushed you into a corner that you could only escape by pretending to have an answer to the relentless personal questions.

heading home right away wasn’t on your agenda even after a more mentally draining day than usual. you took the other train and took a route in the opposite direction. 

when you reached the apartment complex and knocked on scaramouche’s door, you didn’t expect him to answer so fast. usually when someone unexpectedly showed up to his place he’d groan and yell something along the lines of “i already have a vacuum go away”. 

“sorry...i should’ve told you that i wanted to come over.” you sheepishly step in and take off your shoes as he holds the door open.

“it’s whatever.” scaramouche clears his throat. “what happened at work this time?”

you settle on the couch and stroke his pet cat kuni on the head. “nothing HAPPENED per say. just the usual stuff y’know. the senior executives getting on our backs about ‘rookie mistakes’ and giving us the whole pep talk about holiday burnout and stuff.” you ramble on, suddenly feeling unsure about the plan you initially wanted to address.

“aren’t you sick of working a 9 to 5? i told you you should’ve just gone into software engineering like i did so you wouldn’t have to deal with people and could sit at the computer all day like you usually do.”

“hey, i’ve gotten better at limiting my screen time since we moved out of our old apartment! plus i do sit at the computer all day for this job, just in a way that makes me feel like the main character.” you wink.

“okay? you seem very on edge, you might as well just tell me what’s going on if i’ve figured out that much.”

“well, we’re having a christmas party...”

“and?”

“and my coworkers want me to bring a plus-one..”

“oh hell no.” scaramouche rises from his seated position, but you push him back down. “can’t you ask someone else?”

“but you’re the best actor i know.” you plead.

“at least i’m not painfully sweet to retail customers who don’t deserve it.” you flick his forehead, immediately making him change the subject to avoid discussing the day you met at your old part-time job, when he handled an overbearing lady in a polite tone so uncharacteristic of him that you had to be there to believe it.

“it’s just one evening!”

“what are you gonna do when they continue to ask about me? or for the next party? say we broke up? they’re either gonna pity you or become suspicious. besides, why do you wanna bend over for your coworkers out of all people? you’re not gonna get fired just for not having a date to a stupid party.”

you bite your lip. “true. i guess i just feel really isolated from all of them because of the age gap. i’m the youngest person there and the feelings of being behind compared to them have really caught up to me if i’m being honest..”

scaramouche stays quiet, waiting until he’s sure you’re done talking in case you have more to add, observing the way you play with your watch with your eyes averted to the carpet. 

he finally breaks the silence with a sigh. “fine. god, you’re just as stubborn as ever. i’m only saying yes because you came all the way to my house instead of just calling me and i knew you’d stay here all night if i didn’t agree.”

“plot twist, i came for your cat. but thanks, honey!” you pat scaramouche’s shoulder and he grimaces in response.

“ew.”

“just practicing.” you shrug.

--

the two of you arrive early to ensure that you have time to introduce scaramouche and help set up at the same time. there’s no elaborate plan; this is only a one time thing. you’ve agreed to only give vague answers to any further attempts to pry about your relationship after the party, no matter how specific they get.

you would cross that bridge when you got there. right now, you’re astonished at how sincere scaramouche’s smile seemed when he greeted your elderly coworkers, even calling your boss “ma’am”. he handled every single conversation with them smoothly and graciously, as if he totally stole the show. 

after putting the finishing touches on the dessert table, you go up to scaramouche and take his arm. “we should get ourselves a table while we’re at it.” you suggest once the conversation with your boss subsides.

“you’re just in time! i was having a lovely chat with your boyfriend here. you are very lucky to have scored such a charming and handsome young fella.” you nod with a soft laugh, unsure of what to make of her statement. sure, your boss had always been a sociable person, but scaramouche had to have made a truly lasting impression for her to give that degree of praise, which she rarely did to anyone.

you take your seats and instinctively rest your head on his shoulder. the butterflies in your tummy tell you that your sudden display of affection may be a part of a hidden desire to touch the boy who was once only known as your college roommate. did he always smell this nice? and since when did his jawline get so sharp-

you fail to snap yourself out of your thoughts when scaramouche turns and plants a small kiss on your forehead. nobody seems to be watching, but every little thing to make this fake dating scheme of yours seem authentic counts right?

--

it’s not until the end of the evening when you step into the banquet hall for fresh air that you come to terms with what you had been feeling,,,

you liked him. you were a fool, in love with scaramouche even after all of these years of keeping it as friends. he may be a bit of an asshole, okay he was totally an asshole, and yet you could only see the good parts of him. the part of him that still looked out for you and cared about your feelings underneath all of those layers. and it didn’t help that he was good-looking along with that, he had dozens of secret admirers vying for his attention all throughout the time you’ve known him.

but it would be selfish to ask him to stay this close for much longer. he already hated getting close to others, despite having let you in a long time ago. you sigh, ready to wallow for as long as it took for him to come look for you.

“hey,” the voice calling out to you immediately makes you turn. you feel at ease but also tense at the sight of scaramouche strutting over to you.

“hey. sorry for running off.”

“stop apologizing for everything. it’s getting old.” he snaps, though there’s a joking tone hidden within his response that only you would be able to detect. 

“anyways, yeah i was looking for you. and i also wanted to talk.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. “talk about what?” 

scaramouche clears his throat. “well, you know how you told me that you wanted me to pretend to be your boyfriend because i’m a ‘good actor’?” you nod, heart racing as he alludes to your previous thoughts.

“what if i told you that....i didn’t want this to be an act and i wished it was real?” with his sudden confession, he facepalms and turns away.

“sorry. forget i said anything. that sounded so stupid, i knew i shouldn’t have listened to tartaglia...”

you snort, to which the thickness in the air dissolves. “now who’s the one apologizing....?”

“shut up.” he grumbles.

“ok but that was actually a great attempt to be smooth, for you at least.”

scaramouche sighs, then gently leans towards you and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your hair out of your eye. “look, i fucked up just now. but believe me when i say that i meant it. i want to go on a real date sometime after this, just you and me, away from these weirdos who care too much about your love life for their own well-being and make you feel bad just for being younger than them.”

shocked at his words, you gape at him, trying to formulate a response even though you already know how you feel. but, he’s made it clear that he’s not going anywhere, he never backs away from his words and goes through with everything he puts his heart and mind to. so you take a deep breath and give him a warm smile.

“i’d love that, actually. i’ve liked you for a while but i only just realized it. my subconscious really did its job, telling me to take you here.”

scaramouche beams at you, a rare sight, and pulls your ear to his lips.

“maybe we can just ditch the party and go get ice cream right now.” he whispers and you smirk, taking his hand and exiting the hall.

from that day on, you’ve believed that christmas miracles probably do exist.

[secret-final-boss]

INTERVIEWS WITH SUCCESSFUL AUTHORS

I've been spending the past week on my Discord server, and I've been compiling advice through interviews with successful, full time authors! Currently I've interviewed two authors, All Those Roadworks and Reagan Davis of the Knitorious Murder Mysteries Series.I'll go in order with my compiled advice :

From All These Roadworks : "My three pieces of advice for audience growth are: (1) Post on a regular schedule.  Doesn't matter if it's daily or weekly, just make sure you have new content coming out reliably and predictably.  Don't drop three things one day and then go silent for a month.  Break up big content into small bites if necessary. (2) Stay on brand.  Make everything you release on a given channel immediately identifiable as "you", make it all the same kind of stuff, and don't overly indulge in personal whims.   Definitely don't get into political arguments (or at least pick the ones that really, really matter). (3) Hustle.  If you intend to make money, every last thing you post should include a link back to the place where people can give you money.  There's a million ways to do that without seeming insincere or pushy.  But don't be shy to remind people that if they like your stuff, they can pay for it. I guess also, at a more basic level, make sure the places you're promoting are places that (a) facilitate discovery by new users and (b) allow you to monetise."

"the biggest and most unique part of my business model is releasing tons of free stories.  It's how I advertise, and without it I simply wouldn't get customers." (edited)

: "I write two chapters of ongoing serials a week.  In theory, those serials eventually get finished and collected into e-books..."

[Roadwork's book] has sold 142 copies in the two months since it released, for a total gross of $563 USD, and I expect it to have a pretty long tail." (edited)

"Down the track it will get collected into a bundle.  I sell the bundles at about 25% discount over the cost of the books individually, and that works out because I get a much bigger total sale (and Paypal gets a correspondingly smaller percentage)."

The trick is having a lot of items in your catalogue.  The person who buys the book for $3.99 is nice, but what's much better is the one who then buys your entire back catalogue for another $100+."

And From Reagan Davis  

From ReaganDavis "The best promo for my backlist is my front list. Nothing promotes my last book better than releasing a new book. I rapid released to maximise the Amazon algorithms.  The schedule led to burnout, so I’m rejigging my production schedule for next year. I suck at AMS ads. I keep trying, but they’re a mystery to me.  My FB ads do well. I believe three BookBub featured deals launched me to six-figures. I also like paid newsletters and BookFunnel promos and swaps. " (edited)

"[About BOOKBUB] I made sure my submissions met their criteria and I applied frequently. Then, when accepted, I stacked promos to maximise the exposure. My books have been awarded 12 best seller tags in multiple categories in 4 marketplaces (US, Canada, UK, and Australia)" "Prior to release, I wrote a flash fiction reader magnet (a prequel to the series) and used it to build my email list. I also did a lot of newsletter swaps with other authors in my genre. I found the social media platforms where my readers gather, and built a following by interacting with them organically. Then, I rapid released the first three books to maximise algorithms.  I believe this contributed to my initial success"

"Consistency is key. Write and release at a consistent pace so your readers know when and what to expect from you. Write in a series for maximum profitability. Produce professional-quality books if you want to be seen as a professional.  Don’t use paid advertising until your 3rd or 4th book, otherwise the reader has no backlist to consume."

"Most of my marketing budget goes to book 1. Most of my income is from read-through. The longer your series, the longer the read through. Know the LTV of your readers - know how much they are likely to spend if you hook them with the first book."

"I published the first three books 28 days apart to maximise amazon’s algorithm."

"Study the leaders in that genre. Not flash-in-the-pan leaders, but authors who stay in the top 100 of the categories where your books belong, or who have multiple titles in the top 100. Study their story structure, plot beats, and everything else about their books. Join their email lists and study how they market and promote." (edited)

"My readers are female, 35+, married or divorced, have kids, and are avid readers. That’s the reader avatar for my genre, so that’s who I speak to and appeal to in my marketing. They are mostly on FB. I dislike FB, but my readers are there, so I am too. you have to meet your readers on their terms. If they are on IG, you need an IG presence. If it’s a platform you dislike, get a VA who will interact on your behalf. I have a great VA. Also, interact organically, as a fellow reader and fan. No one likes to be sold to all the time. Once you have followers there, lure them to your email list. You own your email list. It is your biggest asset. FB, Snap, discord, etc can delete you whenever they want and you need a secondary method to connect with your readers."

"My email list always preorders my books. I use preorders as a measure of success. As long as each book has more preorders than the book before it, I assume the series is still growing."

"Bonus content, newsletter swaps, BookFunnel promos, contests and exclusive giveaways only for my email subs. My email list gets everything first. They are the first to receive bonus content, find out about promos, see new covers, etc."

"This is genre-specific, but in general make sure your story hits all the tropes and archetypes the readers in your genre expect. Make sure your cover and blurb also conform to genre expectations. Genre-fiction readers know what they expect when they choose a book. They want familiar, but fresh."

If you want to see the interview transcript itself, feel free to join our discord and see for yourself and ask the two any questions you have!

Our discord link https://discord.gg/MdrUazSzhq

[hekatekun]

fuck it, meatbun

ANONYMOUS ASKED: please tell me about your many things to say about the meatbun scene.......

yeah ofc 😋 i'd say it's a similar gag to the self-awareness/self-conscious balls in the rising skit so i'm pulling a lot from that too, and my interpretation of that relies on [great-blaster's translation and analysis] 🙏 a great post

If the balls are personifications of being self-conscious, their sensitivity and awareness to how others perceive them, then the meat buns could be what they contribute to society.

King of NEETs himself, Osomatsu is a Me Myself & I kinda guy in order to survive the way he does. There is no future for him in his head, and he lives in the moment on his animal instincts. Instant gratification (booze, porn, gambling), right here, right now, who cares about anything else. Fun in the sun all day long, but when you realize that's truly all that Osomatsu does, even at the expense of himself and others, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

And to combat the distaste people have for him, he just doesn't care! You'd have to be pretty apathetic to your reputation in order to continue doing what you please - especially when the costs are high.

Interestingly enough, him and Ichimatsu are the only buns who immediately "die" with white eyes when you open them up. Perhaps he's so unpleasant so he can continue doing his own thing, and being expected to do anything worthwhile or meaningful is too much for the eldest.

TLDR: "I dunno if you should eat me, I taste pretty bad, hahaha!"

Expectations, reputation, such things are the bane of the fourth's existence. He wants nothing more than to be accepted and have a social life, but that involves the mortifying ordeal of Being Known. He knows his limits, he can't fake it without insane periods of burnout, so he'd rather be repugnant and ward off other people's attempts at getting to know him. But unlike Osomatsu, instead of having people expect nothing from him, people will now expect Bad Shit as a result of perceiving Ichimatsu.

Which is all of course a cover up for his vulnerability. Hermit tendencies to avoid knowing what someone's initial impression of him is going to amount to. Don't worry, he already knows. And if he puts out the same "bad" into the world that he expects the receive from others, he can be free of its burden (and will fail every single time because he still cares too much).

Without further ado, our space cadet.

Indescribable, unpredictable, everything, nothing. Brimming with an internal, seemingly endless amount of energy, Jyushimatsu is capable of pulling off the impossible. He can fill in any role needed and works well with everyone, but only if you can handle him. If Ichimatsu is “not enough,” then Jyushimatsu is “too much.” He’s a one-man band.

Not to say he isn’t aware, he just possibly doesn’t care. Looking at a bigger picture, or simply not paying attention altogether. He doesn’t bother reining himself in because it’s more fun to be wild, and he has nothing to hide should people try to get close. Though, there’s always consequences to be had for such unadulterated fun.

When he breaks open, his iconic troubled expression pops up. Maybe he’s uncomfortable stepping up to bat and putting that energy to “good use.”

What a surprise: Your vapid tryhards have nothing of substance to provide. Maybe stop putting so much time into your appearance and build a personality, hm? Primping and preening and absolutely nothing to show for it. Even if you figure them out, they still wouldn’t break character for you. Reality can’t touch the uber self-conscious.

great-blaster says that self-awareness should be swapped with self-conscious, the acute form of being intimately self-aware of your social standing. Choromatsu is embarrassed about being a neet with nerdy interests, doesn’t mean he has any intention of letting them truly go.

And if you’re a little smarter about how you impose such feelings on people, you’ll go on to lie, weaponizing such embarrassment. Doesn’t mean you’ll succeed, people can smell slime a mile away.

Karamatu’s is the only one of these 3 that’s on the smaller side and the only 1 of all 6 that’s clear!

Legit transparency! Empty-headedness! Makes sense that he doesn’t have the same type of self-consciousness as the other two, even if he’s just as much talk and no action, you don’t strut like a genuine peacock in public unless you can own up to it. Karamatsu’s appeal is to himself first and foremost, he thinks others who like the same will come along soon enough (and is also maybe too terrified to make the first move). He’s an open book ready for the taking, doesn’t mean he’s got anything to really offer, though. Doesn’t help when you can’t break character and express yourself, either (not that he has the self-awareness to grasp this particular problem anyway).

And I think Chibita summarizes the story’s moral quite well

[only-by-the-stars]

it's... been a rough few months or so for me, writing-wise, honestly.

first, the engagement with AMPA started dropping. seeing people go silent and not knowing why was sad, and I naturally blamed myself for it, contributing to the burnout and doubts I was suffering, that I was open about in the author's notes. but, I still had hope that people would show up for the epilogue and say something like "thank you for working hard on this and sharing this story with us". something simple along those lines, you know? long comments are appreciated, of course, but they're not required, and a simple show of appreciation for the work put into a story, particularly a long one like that, is enough.

anyway. some did. but a lot didn't. and that hurt. compounding the hurt was the lackluster response to a tie-in smut fic I wrote on request and posted on Valentine's Day. the stats on it are just sad. they were then and they still are now. that happened first, and then the epilogue got cold-shouldered by many. so I was already down.

and then, a few weeks after the epilogue, I posted the first chapter of a new story in my Adventure Time AU, and it got a really sad initial reception (compare it to A Few Moments' Respite, which got a pretty good initial response in the same timeframe, in the middle of the week rather than on a weekend), and I ultimately took it down the next day when a kudos bot attacked it, artificially inflating that stat. something in me kinda... broke when I did that, like it was the last straw. I haven't wanted to repost the story, and I've grown to hate AMPA, my most popular fic, because of these things that happened with it. it feels so entitled to want a simple thank you for working so hard to produce so much, with updates that occurred weekly for so much of its run, even powering through doubts and burnout, and it probably is... but I'm a shitty person, so it does make me sad. even though I know I don't deserve anything for it all. ugh.

in all, I'm not sure what I want to do from here. and I can count the people who care about my writing on one hand. so. idk. it sucks, and so do I.

[lazyyogi]

Hi , how do you balance your spiritual experience and the very human experience as a doctor ? I understand& believe you can’t be apart from self .. but any tips ?

This is my first year as a resident and a constant challenge is self-concern. It can be stressful transitioning from being a student to being responsible for the wellbeing of very sick individuals. On top of that, we still have exams we need to pass, skills we need to acquire, presentations to give, research projects to advance, students to teach, and long hours with significantly less sleep and time off compared to our prior student life. 

Therefore it can become very slippery slope to just focus on yourself and only care about what impacts you positively or negatively. For example, it’s the end of a long day, you didn’t get much sleep the night before because you had to come into the hospital several times to see patients in the emergency room, and just when you’re getting ready to leave, you get called to the emergency room because a patient who was in a car accident has a massive laceration on their head that they need you to close. 

You might imagine that in this situation, you would think about the patient and their need for your skill and care and that you would feel enthused to swoop down to the emergency to fix them up and be a healer. But often the initial thought can be “Fuck! I was THIS close to getting out of here!”

Do you know why residents are called residents? Because we basically live at the hospital. 😂So this kind of mentality is not sustainable. If we fall into the habit of just wanting to get away from work, relaxing at home, and we get offended by any inconvenience that comes our way, we will be vastly unhappy and our patient care will suffer. 

This is why self-care is so important and why having a deliberate way of integrating it into our daily routine is essential. If you don’t have something in place, you will burn out. And even if you do, burnout can still happen. 

I am grateful that my program is very mindful of burnout and I have yet to see any of my co-residents hitting that wall. Personally I manage with doing maybe 10 minutes of yogic stretching when I come home every night, ideally 3 nights a week I will do a full yoga session, I do my meditation and tantric spiritual practices nightly (I’m working on injecting some of that into my morning routine as well), I make sure I eat at least two meals per day (breakfast and dinner), and try to get at least 5-6 hours of sleep on nights that I am not on call. 

There is a reason why I chose to become a doctor and it is not because I always dreamed of being one. This was a calculated decision. After college when I was living at home, directionless, but also going very deeply into my spiritual path, I realized that the most important thing to me was enlightenment. This was because I knew that society couldn’t give me anything that could last, only enlightenment could do that. 

This recognition then posed the question: Do I stay in society or leave society to pursue enlightenment full-time as something like a monk? Then I thought that if everyone who became spiritually switched on then left society, it would leave society in a pretty poor place. Just because society couldn’t give me anything doesn’t mean I cannot contribute something to our society. I want to remain here so that I can benefit society and I want to show people that you can dedicate your life to enlightenment even while still being in society. 

I chose becoming a doctor because I knew this was a way I could tangibly help others, financially sustain a place for myself in society, and also actively develop loving kindness and compassion. 

As such, the above mentioned challenge of self-concern is not something I care to allow and I am actively cutting through it as it arises in me. I chose medicine because it will constantly require me to work on myself even as I endeavor to benefit others. So it is just a matter of acknowledging challenges as they arise and finding creative solutions for succeeding them. 

In reality, there is no opposition between spiritual experience and human experience, there is only misunderstanding. The challenges that occur within you on a daily basis is the very path with which you are being presented. 

May all being be free 😊

LY

[bastardsunlight]

My buddy over at @sxvethelastdance​ is doing some deep dive shit on the subject of Liu Kang’s faith in all his iterations—95, games, 2021—so I decided “hey why don’t I do that too?” because I also desire to be one of The Cool Kids™. This is in no way meant to be taken as gospel truth or whatever. It’s mostly for me own records, headcanons-wise, and just kind of a character-building exercise since Lao has become one of my more active/sought-after muses of late. I’ll hide it under a cut because it’s liable to get long

Like my S C H L O N G [cue pornbot invasion]

PS THIS IS GOING TO BE ABOUT MORE THAN JUST HIS FAITH BECAUSE A LOT OF THAT WILL COME FROM UPBRINGING/FAMILY AND WILL ALSO FOCUS ON HIS PERSONALITY AND THE INS/OUTS OF IT

For our purposes (and like, in reality because I DO respect authorial intent to some extent), Shaolin Monks isn’t canon, like at all. Someone had a fever dream and Liu Kang/Kung Lao were bimbos for a few hours. Okay they’re still kind of like that, god bless ‘em, but you get the idea. AIGHT now that’s out the way, let’s get this cue ball rolling.

Okay for starters, games Lao because well he’s only ever appeared in the games (and we don’t usually talk about Legacy Because OOF middle-aged Liu Kang with a hot topic sweater and anger issues—Liu Kangst. You’re welcome [plays a high G on the nearest piano]).

Kung Lao comes from a long, distinguished family who has always contributed to the order of light—they’re founding members, all that stuff. They did not build the academy itself, but the Order started with the Great Kung Lao. OUR Kung Lao is the fulfillment of a prophecy, some vague old thing that told of an ancestor who would carry the “spirit of the Great Kung Lao”. They figure reincarnation, which is a reasonable assumption. If that’s true or not, only Fire God Liu Kang and Lord Raiden know, because they’re the only ones to have met him in person. Whatever the case, Kung Lao is born with the ability to call spirits and channel their energy, their “pressure” to do a variety of things, including teleport, an ability that thankfully did not come until later—can you imagine a teleporting toddler? Good god.

The entire Kung line is blessed with some spiritual power, here and there. Kung Lao is off the charts. His mother, a short time before his birth, has a dream where the GKL came to her and said “this is the one”. He is reaching out to his ancestor from the Realm of the Honored Dead, knowing full well that the once-a-generation tournament is not far off and feeling the pull to Lao like some kind of magnet or doorway. Kung Lao is the strongest spirit-channeler the Kung family has ever seen. His parents therefore name him Lao and with the name comes a great and terrible burden.

He is, naturally, chosen as the generational tithe to the Wu-Shi academy and, naturally, the Order of Light. This is a case of being raised in the faith, knowing little else, but being sharp enough to question some things. Obviously, as a kid, he doesn’t question—he just learns and obeys, trains under various masters, etc. Sometime during his younger years, an orphan shows up at the temple and, being a charitable organization, the elders of the temple take him in and name the boy Liu Kang. Liu and Lao become fast friends and the elders are, of course, pleased as  punch to see the Kung’s legacy being a good influence on someone like Liu Kang who, unbeknownst to anyone but them (and Raiden), is the blood of Onaga and in possession of a terrible power himself. It does not occur to them that Lao will not be chosen by the god of thunder to be Earthrealm’s champion. Everyone at the academy trains for this purpose, but in THIS generation, no one even questions that it will be Lao.

Kung Lao is extremely gifted, rarely has to study, hardly tries on all exams and new techniques and masters the strange and deadly weapon that is his signature with relatively few injuries. Combining that with his abilities to move spiritual force and teleport and he is a shoe-in. His faith in the Elder Gods is more of a background hum, at this point and, though he has met Lord Raiden, his faith there, too, is hardly a thought. It’s just part of his life. As anyone who grows up in a faith could tell you, the routines become like breathing.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao grow side-by-side as best friends, confidants, troublemakers (though Lao is absolutely the one cutting class), and, as they grow older and into themselves, lovers.

The first time Kung Lao’s faith comes to the forefront and really shakes is when Lord Raiden choses Liu Kang to be his champion for Mortal Kombat. There is the initial shock, of course, and then there is fear. Mortal Kombat has killed very Earthrealm champion, without exception, since the Great Kung Lao’s second attempt. The legends of Prince Goro are written in the forbidden texts of the academy’s library and naturally, the shaolin rowdy boys have broken in and read them all. Kung Lao meditates for hours, wondering what he did wrong. He is never, at any point, resentful toward Liu Kang himself, who has always been an unfailingly loyal friend, a humble monk, an excellent student, and has, with hard work and perseverance, excelled in HIS classes as well.

The more he considers it, the more his faith in the Elder Gods is shaken—if it was ever terribly solid in the first place. More than that, he begins to mistrust Raiden. Kung Lao determines that, due to the hopelessness of the situation, the likelihood of Liu Kang’s return is almost zero. He has all the faith in the world in how strong Liu Kang is, of course, but those odds are not good. He begins to deeply resent the idea that Liu was chosen as a lamb for slaughter based on factors other than likelihood to win. This is also when the insecurity starts to REALLY set in.

Kung Lao doesn’t realize that Liu Kang views him as equal or superior, seeing how he has never had to study or work at ANYTHING to just nail whatever it is, every time. Kung Lao is one of those young adults who was a child prodigy and is experiencing some SERIOUS burnout in his early twenties. It isn’t that Kung Lao doesn’t know he’s good—he’s very aware of his skill. It comes out as brazen arrogance. No one but Liu Kang can seem to knock him down ANY pegs. His faith, he realizes, has always been in himself and in Liu, in what they’ve built and shared. There is a depth of intimacy in that friendship that goes beyond even the physical—though there IS that.

He’s kind of in the mode of “what have the Elder Gods ever done for me?” (spoiler alert: nothing) and he questions Raiden’s motivations as he slowly adds shit up. Liu Kang is an orphan, of no family, with great power. He doesn’t know if there’s something else to it, but he sees the reactions of the elders of the temple when Raiden chooses Liu and it isn’t “weird that you didn’t choose the kid we groomed from birth to do this” but an almost insane level of like, understanding, as if this was a possible outcome. There is something else up, but he has no way of knowing it. He hates the way Liu just accepts it and while they are still capable of making jokes about the whole situation, he can sense the turmoil within Liu, as well, who is ALSO wondering why Lao wasn’t chosen.

Kung Lao is now the black sheep, the family failure, the one who was beaten out by an orphan. This really begins his “second banana” status and everyone seems to know it. They equate his brash pride to insecurity, which in a way it is, because part of him will always wonder what he did wrong, but they did not know him before. It goes from being part of his personality to being a shield. If he is arrogant and aloof, untouchable, no one will see the doubt and trepidation within. And STILL the Elder Gods do NOTHING. When he sneaks into the tournament, he’s taking matters into his own hands, where he is convinced they have always been.

See, he had been okay with dying for Earthrealm, though he was certain with this power, he wouldn’t—that he could save the place like the ancestor for which he was named. He is not ready to lose Liu Kang.

Aight so caveat here, most of this above was built with a VERY specific Liu Kang in mind and below is 100% riding on that same writer (heh riding). None of this has to, in any way, reflect on anyone else’s Liu Kang—not that I’ve seen a ton of those.

MK2021 for all its faults, had amazing characterization for the heroes, even if some of the cuts, scenes, and lines were a bit ……. Clunky. Kung Lao is clearly a powerful fighter, confident to the point of arrogance, but with the skill to back it up. Even when Cole puts him in the dirt, he hops back up and summons his hat, like “okay cool, now let’s get real” because Kombat is not like a cage fight. This is a man who knows few limitations, is highly skilled, and has clearly been raised in the faith, much like his counterpart from the games. His Arcana is passed through his bloodline, much like that of the Hasashi clan and a few others who have passed out of living memory, likely done in by previous Outworld assassination coups.

The biggest difference between games and 2021 Lao is that the latter is a man who demands proof at every turn, by force if necessary, AND HE IS AWARE OF THIS. His faith rests not in the Elder Gods—not caring much for them or their lack of involvement—but in Raiden himself and only then because he has challenged the god of thunder and was put down pretty soundly. Kung Lao respects ability. He has it, so he therefore expects everyone around him to hold themselves to that same standard.

He is two or three years older than Kang, the young orphan Master Bo’ Rai Cho brought to the temple when they are still children, probably six and nine, give or take. They have no classes together, initially, but Kung Lao ss instructed to keep an eye on him, to help him adjust. The two become fast friends and Liu Kang admires the bejeezus out of his shi xiong, both because of that age difference and the obvious experience gap, and because Kung Lao will ALWAYS go to bat for him.

Kung Lao is well aware of the stakes of this tournament, knows that it is, for the most part, riding on him. This becomes doubly true when Sub-Zero is sent to Earthrealm to start taking out the other champions, one by one, to halt a prophecy. Someone carrying Hasashi blood will upset the balance of the tournament.

He is a dutiful monk, a competent teacher, a powerful fighter, and, alongside Liu Kang, the best hope humanity has for victory. Kung Lao’s resentment, in this universe, is directed primarily toward the elders who sent Kang out into the world after his graduation from the academy as a student (as must all students, some with specific orders, and some with more vague directions) to find his true path. The elders have essentially forced Kang to relive the darkest time in his life and thence, to feel the rage and resentment that has for so long boiled beneath his skin, channeling it into a killing urge. Kung Lao protects Liu Kang from this as best he can and, more than that, he protects the world from Liu Kang.

[docfuture]

Princess, part 14

        [This story is a prequel, set in an alternate 2012, several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16.  Links to some of my other work are here.  Updates are theoretically biweekly, but it’s 2020 8-)  Next chapter is partly done so I’m going to try for before the end of the year.]

Previous: Part 13

      Memories.       Flicker was sensitive to anything that might disrupt them.  With her speed, subjective versus objective time was hopeless from the start.  Even 'When was that again?' and getting things in the right order was difficult.  She needed to forget the vast majority of things that happened when she sped up.  There just wasn't space in her squishy biological brain for what she could accumulate at a million times the speed of normal human subjective consciousness.  She had always felt close to the edge of what was possible to remember.       At least for as long as she could remember--and she didn't remember anything episodic before she was nine.       How did normal humans remember, really?  It was frustrating to ask them.  They didn't know, they just did.  And the scientific literature was frustratingly poor at providing the answers she most wanted, because they were hard to quantify and measure.  Doc said recalling social interactions from episodic memory was partially a learned skill--itself stored in implicit memory.  Which Flicker was a lot better at, but didn't really understand either.       Today she remembered bits and pieces while she prepared for work.       She remembered talking to Sealord about trying to act human when you weren't.       Sealord was a... Well, you couldn't really call him superhuman anything, because he wasn't human.  He wasn't alien, either; he'd lived on Earth longer than most humans.  He was a supercephalopod giant squid, who'd had the kind of origin event that might turn a human into a superhuman if they were very lucky--and kill them if they weren't.       He was good at shapeshifting, but going from a deep sea invertebrate to a land biped was a big ask before you even got to the human part.  He looked like a handsome, Polynesian-appearing man in his social landform.  But when he started to talk, he seemed to move into the uncanny valley for many people.       Not Flicker.  She didn't expect human.  She expected 'communicate well enough to be understood', and he did.  He wasn't trying to 'pass' as human--he was a powerful being assuming a form compatible with air-based speech and human infrastructure.       She actually thought his old utility surface form suited him better.  He was more comfortable with it, and that showed.  At least to her.  It looked like a human body with a squid for a head.  It let him use tentacle waving and pigmentation changes for non-verbal communication--which he was very good at--and tentacle type at a keyboard, which was easier for him than using hands, even when he had them.  But its appearance triggered fear even worse than his social form.  Which made it counterproductive for diplomacy.       "No," he had said.  "I am not better.  At acting human.  Than you."       His speech was slow when he wasn't in a hurry, and his verbal cadence was unusual.  Using lungs and vocal cords and a human-style mouth together in the right way had taken him a long time to master.  Flicker didn't get impatient.  Getting the timing of speech right was tricky.  She did remember learning that, and the frustration.       "I am better at shapeshifting," he said.  "Squid are better at body mimicry.  Than humans.  I started with an advantage.  I am worse at other things.  You are better at human things.  As a human."       "But I'm not better," said Flicker.  "Not at the hard things."       A shake of the head.  "Yes.  Difficult things.  Humans learn as children.  And don't think them hard.  They start with an advantage."       "What hard human things do you think I'm good at?"       "Running."  Sealord smiled.  "Throwing rocks."       Flicker thought about that for a long time.

      She remembered Jetgirl's laugh.  They'd been having another round in their half-joking, half serious argument about whether Flicker could fly.       "He's right," said Jetgirl.  She grinned.  "You are way better at moving fast than I am at flying."       "But flying is hard."       "Lots of things are.  And humans have no natural ability at it.  But birds and insects do, so people can see what good flying looks like.  You've watched a hummingbird hover.  Impressive, right?"       "Yeah.  But scale matters--a Canada goose taking off is pretty cool, too.  I've watched that more times, because it looks so clunky.  But it works."       The laugh.  "Take-offs and landings are usually the hardest.  Anyway, most humans can run--or at least they could when they were kids--so they don't think running is as impressive.  And if you're moving slow enough to see, you're usually doing your glide thing, which doesn't look hard.  No one sees you move your legs much, just an occasional flash and boom."       "That glide is a convenience and safety habit.  It's quiet, and I don't have to worry about damage if I speed up suddenly."       Another grin.  "Yeah, you've already taken off, so the hard part is over."       "It's only a few centimeters up--I don't fly," said Flicker.  "I just run on air so the ground doesn't get wrecked."         "That's flying like a maglev.  You go higher as you speed up.  Lots of pilots who fly nap-of-the-earth study your patterns of flashes and booms, for educational purposes."       "That's because I have to be real careful to not run into things.  Or even get too close when I'm trailing shockwaves and plasma."       "Not running into things is pretty important for them, too."       "I'm still not flying.  Sealord's point was that humans are already adapted for bipedal locomotion, and I started with that advantage.  You don't fly with your legs and feet."       "I don't.  And that being careful is part of 'way better'."       "A point.  But my speed means I can make time to be careful."       "That's what I meant.  You build on your speed with skill and practice."       Flicker remembered.  It was time to use what she was good at to help people again.             Yesterday had been a test run, logging bio-telemetry and mind coordination to the Database.  Today was Flicker's first try at going 'on duty' since recovering from Speedtest.         She followed Stella's guidelines.  It was easiest to forestall self-deception at a beginning.  Flicker had fallen into a form of metric myopia in the months before Hermes' attack.  A variation of what Doc called 'the tyranny of the easy to measure.'  She had sought to maximize a number, a measure of lives saved.  Because it was clear, when her judgement was hazy and her connection to humanity felt distant.  But it wasn't 'lives saved'.  It was, at best, clearly attributable potential lives saved in the immediate aftermath of action, as estimated by the Database.  And it undervalued anything hard to quantify.       She'd abdicated her judgement.  The numbers had become the purpose.       There probably wouldn't be any 'lives saved' today.  But that wasn't the point.  She'd had the Database sift through lower priority, less well-characterized problems, to see what she'd been missing.       The mudslide on the slope in Borneo might have come today, or tomorrow, or next week.  It was coming, there was too much rain for it not to.  It might have reached the village, or not.  The villagers might have evacuated in time, or not.  But now they wouldn't have to.  Flicker moved it sideways instead of down, to an area without people.  Some heard thunder, or saw a spray of earth and vegetation arcing high--but not towards them.       Twenty minutes of earth moving, a shower back home, and back to reassessment.  It was a start.  And it didn't require her to talk to anyone or contribute to burnout, so she could keep going for a while longer.       Flicker cleared rockslide blockages in the Andes mountains, present and threatened, for another ten minutes.  Then dealt with a few other hazards in remote areas in South America.  Which wasn't well covered by superhero response.  The initial data quality was usually very low.  But so what?  She could always run and look.       And then the first hints of something odd had shown up on satellite scans, the Database had noticed, and Flicker ran and looked--and found giant ants emerging from a fringe of Amazon rainforest.       Giant bugs kept recurring.  Interdimensional 'outsider' intrusions were far more common than most people realized, but the vast majority of them were unable to overcome the more than three-billion-year adaptive advantage of Earth life and promptly got eaten.  If this happened on land, the growth impetus that made many invaders a potential threat was usually absorbed by microorganisms, fungi, and plants.  And bugs, who were typically the first link of the food chain that was really good at moving.       So they could eat, and grow, and move, and eat more, until--if the initial intrusion was large enough--someone finally noticed.  Or they succumbed on their own.  The effects of the square-cube law could be ameliorated with alien energy, but past a certain size, that was hard to sustain.       Ants were good at foraging, calling friends, sharing food, and spreading out with new size and vigor.  A lot at once was only to be expected.       A few locals had spotted them, noped out, and concentrated on getting themselves and their animals to safety.  The ants were about the size of cars, and no longer very fast--they were too big for their body proportions to be efficient at moving anymore.  A few had paused to chew on crops, but most of them were looking for something tastier.  Or at least meatier.  They needed to be stopped.       The familiarity was almost a relief--but it did come with a warning.  Best find the start, to be sure the threat was just ants.       Into the jungle, down a narrowing swath of disruption that eventually ended in a pool of churned mud.  It was still being picked over by scavengers, but no longer seething with extradimensional anything.  Perhaps a day or two old?  But there were no other large outbreaks of gigantism.  The local fauna were already taking care of stragglers who had grown too large for their niches.  Flicker passed a jaguar eating the remains of an oversized but still clearly manageable frog.  And she could see the signs of progressive dilution; the jaguar might get a slight boost, but not enough to be a problem before it faded.       Back to the ants.  And a local soil and drainage map from the Database.       The remains of the ants would be soon be good fertilizer.  And safe, as long as the concentration in any one spot didn't get too high.  But they were too big to move by hand without breaking.  So it was time for entrainment--pulling ants with the wind of her passage.  Up and down, back and forth--running slowly for her, but not trying to limit drag.  Air moved in response, and oversized insects tumbled in her wake.  She scattered them widely.       And then...  "Don't punch anything living" was the rule, but there was an exception.  Antenna quivered above her as she stopped between the open mandibles of the first ant.       Sorry, foragers.  You were never going to make it back to a colony anyways.       Her palm strike sent a shockwave through the ant, and a spray of ex-ant outward.  A widely distributed mess over the surrounding landscape was actually desirable here.  Still, she pulled her punches; she didn't want fireballs.  Hand chops and more blasts of scooped air, together with the liquefying effect of Flicker's inertial damping field, helped her manage the spread.       A few distant figures watched giant ants being turned into goo over their fields and pastures.  Which should be bad tasting enough to avoid problems with livestock until it decayed, but a concentration map would go into the Database notice sent out to the locals--they would know their own fields and animals best.  The Database would keep monitoring for problems until any danger was past.       Ants finished, she slowed down a little away from the nearest group.  She knew hardly any Portuguese, so she used her visor to check her translation.  Her accent was awful, so she settled for saying "They're gone," and a wave of a still-goopy hand.  She acknowledged the Database advisory that she was now over her duty time limit for the first day and headed home.       Her shower matched the one at Doc's HQ, with a customized array of converted waterjet cutters and a selection of decontamination options.  It quickly stripped away the remaining layer of plasma-deposited bug juice.  She then switched it to regular shower mode to help her mind return the rest of the way from 'on duty'.  That took a while.  Habits were stubborn things.       Dried and dressed, she logged her impressions, and looked at her bio-telemetry and reaction analysis with the Database for a bit before formally ending her abbreviated 'workday'.  Not everything had gone smoothly, but it had become a better day--and it was still morning.  It was something.  It was enough, for now.       *****       Stella had a wry smile, a faint twist of the mouth that found humor in a less-than-ideal world.  "I'm not well-qualified to advise you about memory," she said, "because no one is.  I'm doing it because your Database integrity AI doesn't think there's anyone better.  And neither does Doc."       "You have been helping me with my emotional reactions," said Flicker.       "I've avoided triggering any obvious disasters, and you've felt subjectively better.  Whether that is actually helping...  well, we may suddenly find out the answer is 'not enough'."       They were at Stella's office for another session.  It was, if not a comforting place, at least familiar.  It did not add to the inherent stress of a session, which was probably the best Flicker could expect.  Protocols had been set and were being followed, and snacks and beverages were at hand.  Elements of a basic social ritual, which did help, regardless of Stella's current pessimism.       "Well, I think we've been making progress," said Flicker.  "Is there some new reason for you to doubt that?"       "The restrictions on a considerable amount of Database material were lifted for me at the end of last week, in response to your request.  I've been thinking about the implications.  Your AI assistant, Vizier, can speak directly to me in ways the main Database AIs can't, because it doesn't have full access.  That allows it more latitude for speculation and personal advocacy."       Stella looked out through the force screen over the sliding doors to the patio.  "I cultivate an image of implacability because it is useful for my work.  But I'm not infallible."  Another wry smile.  "I have the scars to prove it."       "You're who I've got."       "Yes.  And I will recommend precautions, some of which you will likely find unpleasant, to attempt to limit the damage from mistakes and unforeseen events.  You don't have to follow them.  Many will probably turn out not to have been needed.  But it's part of my best work, and this is a useful time to remind you again.  Do you understand?"       "...yeah."       "An important distinction before we start.  You have an assortment of memory-connected issues.  I don't think precise mechanisms are as urgent as dealing with effects.  We don't want to ease one problem only to aggravate several others.  Your new concern--that your memories may not precisely correspond to past events in this world--does not matter for how I intend to begin today."       "Um.  I think what's actually true does matter a bit."       "Yes, it does."  Another smile.  "But we aren't sitting here together for exterior facts--you have the Database for those.  I'm here to hear and see you talk about what you remember, what has shaped you, what matters to you, how you feel and react, and how it affects you.  And listening to and watching me, my voice and body language and pacing, as I shape my advice for you--talking to another live, flesh and blood person--should help you.  Both in putting your old memories in context, and eventually with some of your other issues."       Stella glanced at her computer display before continuing.  "You intend to use memory compartmentalization before 'correcting' memories using the Database.  That's understandable, and also hazardous.  I believe some of your existing issues are already complicated by memory compartmentalization.  That doesn't mean it's bad.  Some is unavoidable, given your two-part mind, and it's necessary for managing PTSD.  But it has side effects.  I want a better baseline of where you are now before you start anything new.  Memories aren't static--they shift as you recall and relate them.  Do you understand the importance of treating Database records of personally relevant events as potentially fallible as well as incomplete?"       "Yes," said Flicker.  "I've been using the Database for memory backups, but there's no guarantee that anything before my return after Speedtest is still compatible with my speed mind."       "It's more general than that.  You have some reductive assumptions about memory that may be a problem.  May be.  My research has taught me to beware of most generalizations.  Now.  I want you to review certain of your memories for me, starting from the beginning.  That doesn't mean we're starting from scratch.  You've used the resources you had, and are by no means unskilled.  Just the fact that you are currently functional is a remarkable accomplishment.  But that means many of your current problems are subtle, tricky, or tough."       "Because I've already fixed the easy stuff," said Flicker.       A smile.  "At least what you thought was easy."       "...and thought was fixed.  I get it.  So what do you mean by the beginning?  My first memories?"       "Earlier than that.  Start with your arrival on Earth."       "All right, but I got a lot of this third or fourth hand.  I cannot currently access any coherent memories before I was nine."       "I know," said Stella, "But your childhood is important enough to you that even indirect information about it shaped who you are today."       "Okay."       Flicker took a deep breath before starting.  "I was dropped off at that first orphanage in early May of 1997 by some guy.  He was probably an extradimensional entity, and possibly the same guy who arranged payment, checked back on me a few times, and set up my later transfer, but there's no proof or direct evidence of that.  He said that I was born on the first day of spring in the previous year, which would have made me just over a year old.  That matched how I looked and was plausibly consistent with the fact that I could feed myself.  He didn't say where I was born, who the parents were, or provide any surviving documentation, and there are no remaining findable witnesses.       "My birth date was recorded as March 20, 1996--which would make me 16 now--but no paperwork was filed with the state.  The surviving workers at that orphanage remember me by the nickname "Chirpy," after the only vocalization anyone heard me make.  I wasn't yet consciously controlling my speed changes, which cut sounds short.  But they do remember me--as creepily silent most of the time.  I was believed to be haunted or psychic.  No one considered that I might have superspeed and very little awareness of my environment.  Database thinks one of the people who died might have thought I just had hearing trouble and tried to teach me to read.  I apparently picked up more later, because I knew how to read--and even write a little--when my memories start."       Flicker looked down.  "In 2002, that orphanage burned down, and all local records about me were lost.  The details of that fire are still the subject of legal disputes and there's been a long running battle between the surviving relatives of three workers who died in the fire and an insurance company.  The place was a firetrap, records were definitely altered, at least two people died suspiciously after the fire, and the relatives deserve to and probably eventually will win.  The cause of the fire might have been arson.  It also might have been me, based on some models I ran a couple of years ago.  It would be very easy for me to start fires by oblivious fast movement in a wooden structure filled with flammables.  But I have no memory of it.       "Anyway, I was transferred to another orphanage in a different state.  Where there was systematic fraud.  And they now had a live girl with no records--me--who was still being paid for off the books by someone, and a dead girl who they hadn't reported dead and didn't want to because they'd stop getting money.  So they altered records to make it look like I was her.  She was at least a year younger, but as long as no one challenged it or compared things, they were fine."       Flicker smiled briefly.  "Then someone tipped off Gumshoe about the fraud, and he started investigating.  He found the orphanage I was at, and ended up in a confrontation with the director. I apparently came to find out what the commotion was about, and the director did something really stupid.  It's not clear whether he tried to use me as a hostage or just a shield, but I didn't like it.  I killed him."       Flicker shook her head.  "I don't like talking about it because people ask how I felt.  I don't remember.  My emotions didn't reliably connect to memories for a while, and my very first clear memory is watching his head explode.  I don't know whether I entropy dumped to his head or just waved my hand or both, but I wanted him gone, so bam, dead.  I do remember Gumshoe just looking at me for a little bit, then doing something at his wrist, and a little while later I met the Volunteer.  And my life started getting better.  I began remembering things regularly, though it took a while to start putting them in order.  This was 2005."       Stella studied her for a moment.  "How much of your anger over the age issue originated with the identity fraud?"       "A lot.  There was so much I wanted to know, and the altered records kept obstructing everything.  And Gumshoe died before I could talk coherently, so I never got to ask him about a lot of things.  I obviously wasn't the girl I was listed as, but the state didn't have any other birth date for their records so they kept using hers.  That made me mad because here were official people--people who were supposed to help--insisting on using information they knew was wrong."       "That took forever to fix, partly because everyone who could testify that I couldn't possibly be as young as that was already involved in the lawsuits over the fire.  Or wasn't talking to anyone because of them.  And no one else cared."  Flicker paused, then corrected herself.  "Okay, no, that's not fair.  Doc did care, but he didn't want to make a fuss at the time because it could have complicated my adoption or my citizenship--not having a birth certificate or any human witnesses to your birth is a pain, legally."       "Indeed.  And not that uncommon a problem," said Stella.       "Anyway, finally I filed a lawsuit," said Flicker.  "And got it almost settled, I thought--and then that stupid insurance company intervened, because some arcane legal thing meant my settlement would make them more likely to lose the lawsuit against them over the fire.  I didn't handle it well.  But Francine--she was my lawyer too by then, not just Doc's--told me that if I gave her time, she would make the insurance company executives, their board of directors, and the stockholders of their parent company regret that intervention thoroughly.  And late last year, she finally won the last appeal of the primary suit.  I'm 16.  But some places don't accept that yet, so Francine's team is still busy."       "I see," said Stella.  "It's clear you're still very emotionally invested in the details.  Is that something you're willing to elaborate on?"       Flicker took a long breath.  "I try to compartmentalize it so I don't keep getting angry again.  But yeah.  I hope you're ready for some ranting."       Stella smiled.  "That's fine."       "Okay.  The fraud at the second orphanage was already a mess, intertwined with several other messes, but sorting it out in one place wasn't enough.  Oh, no..."       Time passed.  At some point Flicker got up and started pacing.       "...and so I was like 'Okay, bonehead, maybe they won't charge you with accessory after the fact to fraud, but I'm also sole director of a corporation to which I've leased the rights to my personal image, and the value of that in interstate commerce is affected by my legal age in your state.  I have money, good lawyers, standing, and a grudge over something you could have avoided for free just by not being a jerk about it'.  But I have to do that in every state that decides to make an issue out of refusing to change my age in their records without a conventional birth certificate.  And a lot of them are fighting it.  So it's still not over.  But at least now I'm legally sixteen for federal and international purposes, in my home state, and in Pennsylvania, where Journeyman lives.  But I've been trying to get this crap fixed since I was twelve, and I'm so sick of it."       "Understandable," said Stella.  "And it's time we take a break, I think."       *****       Stella was getting better at timing the session breaks so Flicker was able to keep a comfortable safety margin.  There was probably something about not having speed that made the psychology of pacing easier to judge.  There were so many indirect effects.       "How did your morning patrol go?" asked Stella, after they started lunch.  "The Database informed me that your stress levels stayed encouragingly low.  But giant ants were mentioned."       "Yeah, they're fertilizer in rural Brazil now.  No one was hurt.  And the rest was just clearance work--the kind of thing the Volunteer is better at, but I can manage.  Didn't feel like much, but it was better than nothing."  Flicker had another spoonful of the soup.  "This is really good soup.  What is it?"       "It's egg drop soup from a local place," said Stella.  "Comfort food.  I like it when I'm recovering from something stressful or debilitating."       "Heh."  Flicker shook her head.  "You keep helping in different ways than I expect you to help."       "Expectations have always been a bit of a mixed bag for me.  On that note, you had a question about my background that you've been very patient about."       "Well, yeah.  It seems kind of silly now, but the Database verified you received your doctorate when you were 17," said Flicker, "but said the university was prevented by a non-disclosure agreement from revealing anything but the title of your thesis.  Which I thought was weird."       "They tried to revoke my doctorate.  After some discussion, they settled," said Stella.  "But the administration never actually had a copy.  The NDA was part of the settlement.  Not coincidentally, they also settled a suit from a group of students and former students at the same time.  People used to wonder why I chose that university and thesis committee.  But what happened to them was part of the point."       "What was 'Alternate Means of Addressing Harmful Behavior Patterns in Entrenched Power Structures' about, anyway?"       "The title gets the point across.  The specific methods were of limited generality and don't scale well.  It was a proof of concept, but there would be issues with it becoming widely accessible."       "I'm still curious."       "I know.  But the NDA was useful to me and still helps protect the former students.  The Database and I both respect it.  If there were a particular threat to one of them that you needed to deal with, then the Database would reveal appropriate information.  There currently isn't."       "I guess... that's good.  Was that your goal?"       "One of them.  The other two were to get a doctorate quickly, and establish a reputation.  Anyone investigating my qualifications in more detail would have no trouble establishing that whatever my methods actually were, they worked:  Nothing else bad happened to the students.  And nothing good to the thesis committee or the administration."       "Oh."       *****       Another hour of indirect memory tests, mostly boring.  But Stella said boring was good; anything exciting here would mean an unexpected problem, and they had plenty of expected ones already.  The one interesting part was a reframing of something Flicker had known for a long time.       "No," said Stella, studying her display.  "I don't think you react any more emotionally to speaking or listening than you do to reading.  Not more than a typical human."       "What do you mean?" said Flicker.  "I've thoroughly documented it."       A smile from Stella.  "You weren't measuring what you thought you were measuring.  You have to restrict your subjective speed to talk and listen, which requires effort by your speed mind.  And you use the ability to freely speed up and consult the Database for several quite effective calming strategies that are less disruptive to reading than listening.  So your coping works better.  After you account for that, the base emotional effect is the same."       Flicker studied the graphs and supporting information the Database provided.  The conclusions were consistent.       "Huh.  I remember interactive things way more emotionally, though."       "You appear to anchor social memories to emotional impact, consolidating out your calming measures, while your reading memories get subsumed in your reaction to what you learned.  So, among other things, your estimates of emotional leakage from compartmentalized memories will be poorly calibrated."       "Oof.  Yeah, I guess I'm going to have to watch out for that."       *****       "We're stopping already?" said Flicker.  "I could keep going--we're making progress, Database says I'm Green, and I still feel fine."       That wry smile.  "Yes, and I'd prefer you stay that way.  You'll have homework.  I want you to summarize your emotional impressions from your pre-sleep memory assimilation, so we can compare with your memories later."       "Huh.  Do you think there will be discrepancies?"       "I don't know.  But if there are, we want to know about them; that's why I'm asking.  We cannot take for granted that anything about your sleep, learning, or memory processing is the same as a typical human."       "Yeah, okay.  Do you want me to record anything else?"       "Not tonight.  I don't want to overload you by trying too many things at once."       Flicker looked down.  "Well, here's an emotional impression already.  That's the opposite of my preferred approach.  I don't like leaving known problems.  I'd much rather solve everything, then recover.  I already know that makes it easier for me to sleep."       "Yes, and you've done a very good job of solving a wide variety of problems where that attitude is helpful.  It's very effective.  Speed is your hammer."       "But not all my problems are nails."       "Exactly."       Flicker sighed.  "Well, okay, then.  I guess this is why I needed you.  You're good at helping."       A raised eyebrow.  "I'm not, particularly.  What I am good at is convincing people to listen who otherwise wouldn't."       "...and that's a problem I have that definitely isn't a nail."       Another smile.       "Okay.  Talk to you later.  And Stella?  Thank you."       "You're welcome."

Next:

[ayuxhi]

Dreaming - Part One

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader.

AU: Idol AU, university life, Idol x Fan.

NSFW/SFW: SFW

A/N: This story is part of the Luv Library Collab. This is the first part, the second part comes out next week while the last part comes out by the end of this month. This is my first fic, so please bear with me. Feedbacks are always welcome. The story will be a lot more clearer in the next update I promise. Thank you.

Summary:

You are bored in life. With your love life non-existential, you can’t help but miss having someone’s constant company. Someone you can talk to 24x7. Someone who can talk you to sleep. So one day when you couldn’t fall asleep, you decide to install Tinder. Thinking it was about time for you to start dating again, things take an interesting turn when you find your favorite idol Kim Seokjin’s profile on the app. Trying your luck out, you wonder how different things would turn out if it was really him.

______________________________________ 

“This must be a dream.

This can’t be real.

This can’t be happening in reality.

I must be dreaming. I have to be dreaming.”

Last night when you went to bed, you were so exhausted from hectic schedules of university life that you couldn’t sleep. You try to count sheep in your mind but that didn’t help. Deciding to try something else, you play your favorite guided meditation audio that can somehow always put you at ease. Putting your headphones on, you lie down on your bed again. Trying to relax your body to the maximum and notice your breathing, you can’t help but feel restless. Even the audio comes to no use today. After several failed attempts at trying to sleep, you turn to porn to please yourself. Switching between different sites to find the right video to get off to, you wish you had someone to fulfill your desires instead of some crappy porn. Guess that’s what life’s about when your love life doesn’t exist. Not that you were complaining, single life has its benefits and silver linings. It's just that your last heartbreak two years ago was a major burnout in your soul. And even though the lessons learned from that experience was life-changing and truly elevating. You can’t help but miss having someone to talk to 24x7.  Someone who can talk you to sleep. Guess you miss the messiness of the entire process or the entire life cycle that goes on from meeting a new person to getting to know the person to talk to that person 24x7 to the inevitable heartbreak. Maybe you need someone.

So when you couldn’t find the right video to get off to, you decided to open Instagram and go through your DM's. To find someone worthy enough to fill your lonely voids both emotionally and physically. But that was useless too. That’s when you decide that it was about time for you to get out of your head and start testing the waters again. Go back to the field and start fishing again. And to test the waters, you decide to go to the place where the water is really fresh, you download Tinder. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It is half-past 12, in the middle of Thursday night and you are unavailable to sleep. Run! BTS is running in the background on your laptop while you are busy scrolling through Twitter. Its been a busy week at the university as finals are approaching soon. That means you don’t get enough time to watch Run! BTS right away when they are uploaded. As a result, you are now catching up with the last to last week’s episode.

Download complete. The notification popped up.

Quickly opening the app, you set your profile first. You fill the basic details first. Name, age, gender, preference, location, and other things.  The something about you column has always been a pain in the ass, going with whatever random gibberish that comes to your mind, you complete your profile. Now the media section. You can upload up to 9 pictures. Only if you had 9 good pictures. Going through your gallery, you choose a candid picture of you standing on a beach, 2 other selfies taken in your room and one that was taken on your university campus as display pictures. The last one was a genuine candid and you kinda looked cute in it. Trying to figure out how the app works, you start swiping left-right without thinking much. Don’t get you wrong, you were just checking the app out, trying to make the maximum out of it. But after the initial 5 minutes, you were bored, declaring it overrated.

Just when you were swiping through the various profiles, you stumble across a profile that you were too familiar with. It was a picture of a tall Asian guy getting out of a car. An HD picture of an HD quality man. He is the same person who sits proudly on your phone’s wallpaper.

Kim Seokjin, 27

South Korea.

Nickname: the car door guy

Something about me: Famously known as the third guy from the left, Kim Seokjin is responsible for stealing the hearts of millions of fans across the globe. The worldwide handsome guy is a part of the rainbow international K-pop sensation traditional transfer USB hub shrimp BTS. The oldest of the team can sing and dance to the rhythm of your heartbeats. He is the CEO of Jinhit entertainment (formerly known as Bighit). Swipe right to get a chance to go on a date with the worldwide cutie guy.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a super like and swipe right. If only it was this easy to win a chance to go on a date with your favorite idol. When you installed Tinder, you never thought you'll find Jin here. Having heard thousands of stories of how so many people catfish the locals, using K-pop idols pseudo profile, its an old trick in the book, in fact, a famous one. Sometimes they don’t even change the details and just go with the real one. This profile, for example, is one of them. The bio looks like something a fan came up in his/her sleep. Having swiped right, you wonder how many naïve people would fall for this façade and actually believe that they are talking to the real Jin. The visual of all visuals, the singer of all singers, Your Kim Seokjin. With that thought, you continue to explore the app.

“Why do people waste time on these stupid apps. If a person could that easily find his/her soul mate on this app, astrologers from all over the world would be already moving inside it.” You sighed.

“Maybe I should just go back to counting sheep instead” Closing the app you turn to your laptop where the latest episode of Run! BTS was playing providing perfect background music. You were so caught up with swiping left and right, exploring the new app, that you didn’t even take a single glance at the screen.

“I should have just watched the episode instead!” With that thought mentally apologizing to your favorite seven idols, you shut down the laptop and switch the lights off your room. Covering your face with your favorite blanket you turn to sleep, wishing that you could finally get some rest. And just when you were about to drift to the dreamland, the notification bell ring, hinting that you have a new notification.

Mentally cursing whoever it was that interpreted your almost sleep, you open your phone. Too bright for your liking, you couldn’t make out who it was. Until your eyes adjusted and your eyes read,

Kim Seokjin and you have matched. Take it easy from here.

Message from Kim Seokjin: Hi.

Your heart stops beating. It can’t be him. Can he? No. You know better than this. Why would he be on Tinder? If he wanted to date anybody, he can just announce it to the world and millions of fans from all gender identities would line up for him. Why would he need tinder? And even if he was on tinder why would he match with me? There are millions of beautiful girls out there who are way better than you look.  Why would he text you? Why would he choose you? Ignoring the newly arrived notification, you quickly open tinder. You are going through your profile once again. Basic. The profile screams basic. With just your name, age, gender and preference your profile doesn’t say much about you. With a quote “Chaos is a ladder” sitting on your bio you know pretty well your profile is darned. You can’t fathom why would he, out of all the people out there, text you. You know it danm well he didn’t. If only you were that naïve to fall for the façade but you knew better. This is an imposter. He is an imposter. Or maybe she is. You don’t know who it is, that has texted you. But you know its not Jin.

It can’t be him.

You can’t help but sulk further when you realize how much you wanted it to be him. A message from Jin. A chance to get to know the person who has not only graced your life with his beautiful face, soulful voice and a windshield laugh that could light up the whole town. You also wanted to thank him. For all that he has done. He along with his other 6 band members have helped you in the most difficult times of your life. There were days when BTS was the only reason that kept you going. You wanted to thank him for his contributions to your life. You wanted him to know you as you know him.

You wanted it to be him.

You look at the clock, it was 1:37 AM. With the excitement of Jin's message and the realization followed by it that it is not him, you have completely lost your sleep. You were already struggling to fall asleep earlier and now with his message lying unread on your notification bar, you are wide awake.

Maybe you should reply to him at least. To the imposter of course. And know what it feels like to even talk to his imposter. Maybe you'll make good friends with him. Maybe you’ll become best friends with him who later fall in love with each other. Get married in Paris then move to Egypt, have 3 children and live happily ever after.

“I should reply to him.”

1:40 AM

[Y/N]: Hi.

You finally tap the send option after glaring at the two words greeting for an eternity now. Suddenly you become more conscious of your environment than you have ever been. It's almost like you can notice the minute actions that are going in your surroundings. From the clock ticking to the vehicle noises coming from the main road far away, you can notice it all.

Ding. With the notification bell, you are pulled out of your mind.

1:44 AM

[Kim Seokjin]: How are you?

Your heart started beating again. This time its 140 BPH. You can't help but get excited seeing his name flash on your phone.

1:45 AM

[Y/N]: I am good. Are you the real Kim Seokjin?

[realtruebeauty]

When Calvin Benton started his psychotherapy company Spill, he had the idea of paying everyone the same amount of money. He thought it would bring harmony to the team. Instead, he was forced to abandon the scheme within a year because of the rancour it created and pay people according to their seniority and expertise.

"We realised that we had to pay attention to market forces," says Calvin. "Sometimes, traditional practices are there for a reason."

Calvin set up Spill in Dalston, east London, to provide online counselling and therapy to companies' employees. It helps them with problems such as depression and work-related stress. Started two and a half years ago, the firm now has more than 100 UK companies on its books, 13 full-time staff and a number of part-time psychotherapists dotted around the country.

Over the last year, Spill's sales have grown by 40%. "We've seen an explosion in demand," says Calvin.

"This is partly because of the pressures that people have been feeling, working from home during the lockdowns. Many cannot set their work aside at the end of the day and suffer from burnout. Others struggle to get motivated to work when they're not in the office."

Dating coach Sami Wunder reveals dilemma when starting out

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In addition to work-related issues, people also go to Spill to seek help for depression and bereavement.

"More and more firms are paying for their staff to get therapy for their problems because it's getting harder to get therapy on the NHS," Calvin explains.

Both of Calvin's parents are qualified psychotherapists. He specialised in computing. He put the two disciplines together to create a service where therapists treat their clients over apps such as Zoom.

One of the big decisions that Calvin made when he founded Spill was to pay himself and his colleagues an equal salary.

"There were five people, and everyone was pretty much contributing the same," he says. "So we tried this experiment where we paid each of us an equal amount of money - regardless of experience, regardless of role. We wanted to challenge the traditional model of pay. We decided on £36,000 a year for everyone. We calculated that was a decent living wage for London."

Initially, the measure worked well and fostered a lot of goodwill within the team.

"Let's say we were going out for drinks," says Calvin. "There wasn't a problem of who pays, or whether this person doesn't get paid as much as this person so maybe the manager has to pay. Everyone got paid the same, so it was much easier in those social situations."

As Spill took off, Calvin recruited new staff such as a software developer, a salesperson and clerical workers - and decided to offer them all the same £36,000 salary. This is when the problems started.

"Software developers are typically very in demand, and they usually take a higher salary than £36,000," says Calvin. "Salespeople are typically paid on commission. So it was not a model which particularly suited either of those two industries.

"We really struggled to attract senior talent for the software role. And it got to about three months in when the salesperson started asking to be paid according to sales targets they'd achieved, saying the fixed salary wasn't working for them."

At the same time, Calvin was getting overwhelmed with applications for the £36,000-a-year clerical jobs he was advertising.

"We were offering a lot more than other clerical jobs paid and a lot of people were applying to the roles because they really wanted this high salary, rather than wanting to work at Spill because they believed in the mission behind the company."

Among the newly expanded workforce, the equal pay system was starting to cause grumbling.

"When we grew the team, we started to have some people who contributed more than others. You had some people who worked longer hours than others. The question started to arise: should this person be paid the same amount as me?

"That caused a conflict in the team and a conversation in the team about whether this experiment was right to continue."

After a year, Calvin bowed to the pressure from his staff and scrapped the equal pay system, replacing it with a traditional structure of pay grades based on seniority in the company and technical expertise.

"I think it was a disappointment when the experiment failed. We wanted to do something which was democratic and egalitarian. But sometimes traditional practices are there for a reason. Sometimes you don't have to reinvent the mould on everything."

One good thing came out of Spill's equal pay experiment, however. After it was scrapped, Calvin decided to make everyone's salary level common knowledge to the rest of the staff.

"Since our salary policy is open," he says, "there are no rumours over who is being paid what. That has helped produce harmony in the office. And if you are in the therapy business, it's important to have harmony in your own workplace."

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[activelyautistic]

Have you ever heard/read anything about the biomechanical pathways of autistic burnout? I'm trying to figure out what might be causing my fatigue, and all the lists of burnout symptoms match up pretty well with my symptoms. It'd be interesting if it had a cellular/immuno cause like ME/CFS, or a nervous system cause, etc.

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Aight Admin S is finally back from the depths of spoonless hell to try to answer this. I really do apologize for how long this took.

Truth be told, I have yet to see any extensive research done on the correlation between these two things, however, I genuinely would not be surprised if there was a strong correlation between the two.

Having said that, I am not certain that it would be exactly the same, CFS, by definition, is a much more long lasting condition than what burnout could ever inflict upon a person. I do think that they would both show up in similar patterns if we were to take brain scans and compare them side by side, though. Because yes, you can literally see fatigue affecting the brain.

My theory is that if we were to take brain scans of two people (in an ideal environment mind you) that were exactly the same except for where one has CFS, and the other experienced burnout, we would see most parts of the brain responsible for processing external stimuli, short term memory, sensory processing, and fatigue would probably look mostly the same. The difference I would assume we would see, mind you, is that in the short term, or at the peak of stress, the person who experiences burnout may show a sharper increase in activity, or it would look as if things may be more severe initially. 

At this point I would also mention that we would have to take into consideration how people process neurotransmitters and hormones as well. People with both conditions process these differently in comparison to abled people, so regardless of which person you look at, they would be processing serotonin, cortisol, dopamine, and various other essential things differently which also can contribute to the difference in brain activity.

And finally, we “take a look” at the brain scans of the person with CFS. I’m sure you’ve done some research of your own if you’ve decided to ask this question in the first place, so I’m hoping you have a basic grasp on the description of the condition. For the sake of anyone else reading my babbling, I’ll explain it shortly.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is, in short, long term unexplained fatigue that is not remedied with sleep, rest or breaks of any sort. The typical requirement for it to be considered “chronic” is 3 months or more. Other symptoms that can accompany this are as follows: muscle pain and/or fatigue, weakness, headaches, and brain fog.

So this is where things get interesting. So remember how I said initially things might show up as more severe or as more extreme in the brain scans from someone showing the signs of burnout? The reason behind this is because someone with CFS would have a constant. A constant level of activity (or lack thereof in some cases) in different areas of the brain because of how the condition makes the entire body work and function differently. A person with CFS will always have a base level of activity (again or not) in the brain, and in this example, maybe the part of the brain responsible for fatigue is already fried, so it’s just kind of...there. So it’s unable to show more activity because literally the whole body is just that tired.

Okay, I rambled. A lot. I’m going to put a TLDR: I think there would be a very strong correlation in the neuropathways for showing signs of burnout and CFS alike, however I believe they would manifest and last very differently due to the nature of how they work.

I’m also going to say that I’m not a professional, and I don’t know anything for sure. This is just my theory based on observation.