#You need a blender

[teaboot]

if ur a murderbot nerd now do u have any fun opinions abt it yet?

Oh my goddd you have no idea

I really, really, really like Murderbot because it comes at life with this perspective we don't often see that is very real among people who have already been through traumatic experiences, who developed skills and abilities to suvive that were once useful but no longer have context- that search that traumatized people go through to recalibrate and reorient ourselves in a world where we no longer really need those things to survive.

A bit personal here, but my own issues personally involved a lot of psychological abuse that made it difficult to trust my own perceptions of reality, and as a result I found I was very easy to lie to and manipulate.

To handle this, I became obsessive over writing things down, cataloging details and making notes of things as they happened- I'd carry recording devices and make audio recordings and stay up late at night to transcribe what they'd picked up, read those over and over again to reassure myself of things I wasn't certain about.

While doing this, there were others close to me that I felt responsible for, who I had to protect from others and protect myself from at the same time. Life was about two things: Evidence, and defusing threats

Over time, I learned to trust myself as my memories matched what had been recorded where their narrative didn't, but I never really kicked the habit. Like Murderbot, I had added something to my own programming that reassured me I was safe, that I was in control of myself, that I couldn't be mistaken or crazy or broken or used.

I'm only on book two, but already I see myself in Murderbot again. No spoilers here, but when I left home- left that dangerous context- I didn't need to repeat these patterns to survive anymore, but I still did, because I didn't know anything else anymore. It felt safe, comfortable, knowing knowing that the past couldn't repeat itself, because I'd written that flaw- blind trust in myself-  out of my programming and replaced it with something else.

Still, though, I'd become something specially suited to thrive in a very specific environment. Nothing else felt right like followinghigh-risk situations, like witnessing and watching and recording and knowing I had proof of the truth where others might not.

People took notice. I wound up in security by accident, but's an environment that I thrive in due to the same patterns and behaviours I originally developed when I had no other choice. I climbed the ladder pretty quickly, once supervisors caught on that my reports were the most accurate, most objective, most factual, detail-oriented and timely. I keep others and myself safe and prioritize public safety above all else, and I perform well under pressure

Now I'm in a position where I often wonder, do I enjoy this job, or is it just what I'm good at? I have a set of skills now, but do I have the option of choosing not to use them? What would I be, if not this? Could I be anything else? Can Murderbot be anything else?

It has a set of skills that set it apart, make it different, special. It does what it knows best. But is it free? Does it want to be? What does it want? Does it have to do what it was built to do? What if it didn't?

I know what I'm good for. The idea of deliberately leaving what I'm good for for something uncertain, that I might hate, that I might be useless at- the choice to give up what was so important to me for so long and become deliberately obsolete?

Let go of my entire purpose? The only thing I know, that I fit so well into but don't actually know if I enjoy? Now that I can choose? Now that enjoyment is a luxury I can afford to consider?

Yeah, that resonates.

I like the Murderbot series so far because it feels the way I feel: Like the most significant and formative part of my story, the part where I became what I am, has already happened

And now I have to just. Keep going

Into... what?

It feels absurd. Like a microwave giving up on reheating food and deciding to start a life around abstract dance.

So, uh. Yeah. It's really very wild to see this same philosophical-ish dilemma I've been digging over in the back of my mind and in therapy for the last forever laid out so plainly in a genuinely exciting and enjoyable story like this. I feel much less alone, and I... kind of really need to see how it resolves, I think.

So, uh. Yeah. Read Murderbot, I guess

[buglaur]

[bbb-bbbbbbb]

reveal of my gordon hlvrai costume project, now that about half of it is done! this is cardstock and glue and tape and more glue and paint and velcro. and 2 gloves (one hand-sewn)

i got started sometime in early-mid fall, but i committed to making it work with cardstock in january- it was originally meant to be a sizing test before construction with eva foam over the summer. then i realized how expensive thatd be, too much pressure for a form of craft ive never practiced. im pretty amazed with how its come together, even with the large seams! during that whole time when it was unpainted (started painting two weeks ago) there was no way to tell

[beyondplusultra]

It's like I blinked and "Haha I'm going to kill myself" became a funny joke to make again, or an alright thing to say ironically. You guys stop that. You'll feel better for not saying it, I promise.

[slfcare]

the thing is; this world needs you exactly as you are.

[katabay]

WOW this has been ROUGH in the Life Events category of things, but. slowly crawling out of that. hopefully

this was the opening scene for a something I started writing after watching the Manben inverview with Nishi Keiko and thinking back to all the classic shoujo manga I stayed up reading back in the day, like damn that's so true Urasawa Naoki

it's partially a love letter to all the greats of the genre that I read, and also to the late night teleseryses that captivated me over the years lmao. it'd be nice to find the time to tackle it properly as a comic, but I'm having fun working on it recreationally :)

✨but since it's recreational, some character info✨

the first character seen is lawrence 'law' valenciano (late 30s), the one with the glasses is cris volante (mid-later 20s). law works at a karinderya, cris is an extremely broke university student.

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / insta / tip jar!

[demigod-of-the-agni]

shh im cooking

[totomiumiu]

I hope Daniel and Armand's reunion in season 3 is Daniel waking up in his hotel room to find Armand in the kitchenette, putting rats in the microwave.

[mattodore]

12 p.m.

[dunkledog]

he wont leave my computer

help

[moonlight-cafee]

👾- Hellooo tumblr, here’s the design sheet for human(or I should probably say vampire in this case tbh) N for the AU that we're working on + some Nuzi sketches(also for the AU) I've done!

[shadow0-1]

Motivational 141

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

TF One Sentinel Prime

[simswoon]

Changed plans…

previous // next // beginning

Lennon: "So…I got in. Distinguished degree at Britechester."

Theo: "Holy shit! That’s amazing, Len!"

Theo (whispering): "I'm so proud of you."

Lennon: "Did you hear back yet?"

Theo: "Uh…I didn’t actually apply."

Lennon: "So what’s the plan? You’ll just…stay here while I go across the country?"

Theo: "I don’t know, Lenny. College isn’t really my thing. You know that."

Theo: "I mean, why does it have to be so complicated? Can’t we just…figure it out as we go?"

Lennon: "That’s not a plan, Theo. That’s just hoping everything works out."

Lennon: "It’s not just about college, Theo. It’s about us, about what we had planned. Do you even care what happens to us?"

Theo: "Of course, I care."

Theo: "We’ll figure this out, Lenny. Long distance isn’t easy, but I’ll call you every day and visit when I can. We'll be okay."

Lennon (quietly): "Yeah…"

[devilsmamba]

red deer hill pt. 1

[keferon]

Picking up from the end of The Blurr Chapter – Swerve has a bad case of survivor's guilt

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

He's been to another planet.  How can he have been to another planet, when he didn't even know it existed? 

Swerve can't stop thinking about it as he wanders aimlessly out of the medibay.

He's been to another planet.  He has been to another planet.  To another planet.

He must have been.  Because he knows Jazz.  And Jazz is real.  And if Jazz is real….

Swerve's spiral of thoughts screech to a halt.  Because if Jazz is real….

The idea alone is enough to send him careening back through the hallways towards where he had abandoned Jazz and Prowl moments earlier.

"JAZZ!"  Swerve shouts as soon as he has eyes on the duo.

"Hey," Jazz says, smiling casually as Swerve skids to a halt in front of him.  "What's the rush?  Where'd you run off to?"

"Never mind that," Swerve says urgently. "Earth, you know where it is?  You're from there?  It's real?"

"Yes.  Earth's real.  My home planet.  I—"

"The Mecha program--" Swerve cuts across whatever Jazz was about to say.  "That was real too?"

"Yes.  I…are you sure I don't know you?"  Jazz asks.

"Blurr," Swerve blurts out, swallowing back the acrid fuel trying to rise up his intake.  "Was there a Blurr associated with the program? Did you know him?"

"Are you kidding me?  Blurr was the program.  Or at least that's what they wanted everyone to believe.  Face plastered on posters and billboards and merchandise.  Fastest man alive, all that.  Everyone on Earth knows of Blurr.  Doubt anyone really knew the man though, if you follow me, not really the friendly type.  Why're you wondering?  And how do you even—"

Swerve doesn't here the rest of Jazz's question.  Doesn't even really see Jazz and Prowl standing in front of him anymore.  Because….

"Oh," he groans.

Oh.

Blurr is real (was real, because he was dying, must be dead by now).

It was all real.

And Swerve left him there, dying.  Did nothing.  He had done nothing but stand there and talk at the man as he was dying.  And then left before Blurr could ask him the question he wanted to know the answer to.  A dying man's last request, not just any man's – Blurr's – last request, and Swerve had ignored him.  Swerve's last words to Blurr, the last words he'd likely ever heard had been that it wasn't real.

And maybe it hadn't been for Swerve, but for Blurr it had been very real.

The man had been dying.  How much must his words have hurt on top of all the injuries Blurr had already sustained?  Even if he hadn't known any better.  Even though Swerve wouldn't have been able to do anything even if he'd tried.  His hand had gone straight through Blurr's when he tried to reach out.

"You know that explains, but doesn't excuse you."

His own words to Blurr echo back across his mind.  He might be able to explain his action or lack thereof, but does it excuse it?  No.

Would he, could he, should he have done something different?  If he had called for a medic earlier?  If he could have stopped Blurr from running into the building that last time?  If he could have somehow pulled the man from the wreckage?  If he had installed more safety measures to Blurr's mech – measures he knew it was lacking in favor of looks and speed?

Or if he hadn't…if he hadn't left Blurr?  Would Blurr have made it back if Swerve had stayed with him?

Because Swerve remembers what Blurr had admitted just before his own words – that he had a hard time remembering.  And he'd seen Blurr's confidence as they worked together – Swerve marking the map and giving directions and Blurr pulling people out.  But without the map, and without Swerve to give directions….

Had Blurr stumbled, lost that confidence on his own?  Had he strayed, unable to remember Swerve's hasty set of directions that he'd so frantically been repeating?  Had that made him just a fraction too slow?

Would Blurr have been fast enough had they stayed together?  Swerve can almost believe he would have been.

But no, the man had to choose that moment to prove that Blurr was every bit the hero he was sold to be, and that Swerve had imagined when he stared at the posters.

Originally, he had hated Blurr for constantly having an entourage at his beck and call.  For constantly demanding people follow him around and help him and never even caring about something as basic as a name.  Had hated when Swindle bailed and Blurr had turned and enlisted him into going back into the building.

But now, now he hates more that Blurr hadn't asked for his help when he needed it.  Hates that the man had left Swerve behind.  Hates that his life had mattered more than Blurr's own – that Swerve's guaranteed survival might have cost Blurr any chance at his.  Hates that he knows now that his going would have cost nothing, that he would have survived regardless.

Fuck.

He was a coward.  He left Blurr.  First to run back into the building alone.  And then to die alone.

Fuck.

Swerve doesn't even know for sure that the man did die.  Has no idea what happened to him.  Because he left.

He needs to know.  Because he owes his memory of the man that much.  Because it turns out that for all he had thought Blurr an aft, he could never completely stop caring about the man.

Swerve squeezes his optics shut, ignoring the prick of coolant at the corners of his lids, and concentrates.  Concentrates harder than anything he's ever concentrated on before.  He's been to Earth.  Had manifested himself on a planet he didn't even know existed.  If he could do it by accident, he ought to be able to do it again intentionally.

Get back to Earth.  Find out what happened to Blurr.  That's all that matters. 

Swerve feels his hand shaking and clenches them into fists.

Get back to Earth.  Find Blurr.  Get back.

He sways slightly, pressure building across his helm.

"…erve…swerve.  Swerve.  SWERVE!"  Jazz's shout breaks through his concentration and Swerve watches as the faint, flickering projection of his human form right in front of him fades back to nothing.

Useless.  All that effort and concentration for something barely tangible that hadn't even managed to reach beyond himself, Jazz, Prowl, and this hallway.  He's never making it back to Earth.  He's never going to know.  He needs to know.  Needs to get back to Earth.

"You alright, Swerve?" Jazz is asking, looking worried.  Swerve wonders how long he's been standing there, silent in front of the others while they have no idea what's been going through his processor.

"You are Swerve, right?" Jazz asks as a follow-up.

"Yes," Swerve says, "Yes, I'm Swerve.  That's how you know me, how I know you.  And I need to get to Earth, now.  It's an emergency.  Please.  Please, Jazz."

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

(Credits: The "You know that explains, but doesn't excuse you." line belongs to Keferon from their writing in the Blurr chapter.)

G O D D A M N ANON. WHO ARE YOU SHARE YOUR GEO LOCATION I JUST NEED TO TALK /J