#post-automation collapse

[vortexofadigitalkind]

Caleb saw her collapse. No alarm. No grief. Just completion. Now the system is slipping and something deeper is calling. Part 2 of The Burnout Protocol is live: https://vortexofadigitalkind.com/the-burnout-protocol-part-2-the-breaking-point

[just-honey-dewd]

LINK CLICK POST-BRIDON/YINGDU ARC THREAD ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

I don't usually post my rambles on tumblr (main) anymore, but haven't found a link click discord server to spam my thoughts in so here we go!

BRIDON BRAINROT IN CHRONO ORDER

Disclaimer: I made most of these in the middle of watching the season. Might've immediately been disproven from some evidence from episodes straight after, and updated it in real time.

LG's nightmare in episode 4 suggests there might not have been an overarching missing persons case in previous timelines. And supports the theory that the twins are newly introduced variables.

2. LG's logical deduction seems to operate under the assumption that he is the only party with the means to influence small changes in the timeline.

The wording of "things related to him" suggests LG is referring to Vein. So I see it as LG being fixated on Vein as a threat, and not registering LX -- who Vein seems to be working for, or Shao Yuanyuan, who is also affecting time to defy an unchangeable node.

3. LG seemed like he was being loosy-goosy with how accurately he would recreate the past.

I think this season shows us LG's development from approaching his "save CXS" goal without a clear MO, to learning how to utilise his abilities to create butterfly effects to achieve the desired result. Which involves more gambling and educated guesswork than he'd admit. The pokemon learns adaptive planning. I think my initial theory abt it being LG's 1st attempt diving back to the very beginning isn't entirely off -- I think he's off his game because he's not used to being this far back in the timeline. I think every time CXS died, he'd use his ability to dive back to weeks or months before.

4. LG seems to reciprocate the intense words a CXS echoed to LG long ago in the high school flashback ver of events.

I operate under the belief that that s1e5 flashback is LG's, and it's the original events of their first meeting. The CXS in this flashback seems comfortably forward in regarding LG as a long term partner (in that context, it seems to take place right after their first basketball game together).

Notably, there was a theory I saw that suggested this CXS was possessed by a future him -- not about to tackle that here. What observations I can make are that b4 LG made any promises, Bridon!CXS wasn't going out of his way to get closer to LG, it's mainly third parties and circumstances drawing them together.

CXS isn't the one reaching out to him when LG happens to pass the studio a couple months after that first meeting -- QL invites him

Evidently they're not that close, w/ CXS pulling the safe dudebro "hey you can come w/ me to check out the hottie" offer when he's enlisted to photograph the popular cosplayer of their uni's anime club

And he asks about and absorbs the club president's treatment of LG to gain more insight into him outside of physical activity. Still feeling out how to act w/ him

It's during the anime convention -- where he and QL learn abt LG's "divination skills" and witness those skills help Shen Miaomiao -- that CXS becomes more confident in imposing his will on LG

We get a time gap of at least a couple days, and CXS has now gotten used to having LG around as a free pair of hands. And he learns that with enough cajoling, anime club leader-style, LG will reliably fold to help him

Then, of course, LG helping him through the date, and then coming to save him when he gets kidnapped by loan sharks. When Vivian threatened LG's safety, CXS promised murder, and he prioritised LG's safety over securing Vivian's safety, so he was already very attached by that point

These events display CXS's character very well. Coming from a background of being ostracised and isolated by others, he's not openly looking for deeper connections beyond the fragile home he's maintained in the studio and w/ QL. As inviting and friendly as he seems, he's adamantly not one to impose himself on others, and was plenty content having fair-weather friends that seem to go to him for favours (the audacity of that Zhou Xun, I swear).

So where does the CXS from LG's flashback come from with such boldness? Where does this "good partners in the future" sentiment come from when Bridon!CXS needed a near-death experience to express that he begun to regard LG so fondly that he's scared of him disappearing?

5. Someone in that class used their ability to disrupt CXS and LG's telepathic link momentarily.

My money's on CWM cuz I think it'd make sense that after that random kid in the bg smiles at WQ cheating, he would approach her because of that act (and not that silly moment where CXS creates that mirror device to cheat that last question).

Also, LG seemed unfazed* by this incident, so it might be another blind spot for him; feeding my theory that LG is legitimately in the dark about everything to do with CXS's parents.

(1)* updated info at the very end

6. LG deciding this very moment the sacrifice he's willing to make once he "confronts" Vein.

7. Xia Fei def got some Bahati fire trauma locked in there or sth. I wonder if he has a power, and what power it'd be...

Also, why Vein would ask a question in that phrasing is beyond me. Is it like a "you didn't have anything to do with that fire, did you?" line? I mean, my first thoughts are if WQ knew Vein's real name, could that mean Vein was also in Bahati? Then I think abt how apparently Vein doesn't have powers (confirmed in an interview?) Then I wonder what's in it for Vein when he's helping LX get CWM's book.

Thoughts spiralling. Too much unknown variables. Can't compute.

8. CXS's first confrontation with reality

Reality being that LG is a savage lil shitster who'll tease him relentlessly even if CXS feels he's in an overwhelming or stressful situation. I also like to think LG did this cuz CXS seemed too flattered by Vein indirectly complimenting his appearance.

*note: the typed text in that image was not from anything in the show, I wrote a version of their exchange for fun

9. LG's mild expression... Resigned resolve, or detached acceptance? Why not both.

10. LG and Vein's back and forth exchange

For a guy who mastered keeping a straight face, it seems his eyes tend to give him away. Also I take it that LG is already beginning his plan, he's initiating conversation to get Vein talking -- revealing his clear disdain for him by asking why he lingers. Both give a non-answer to the other's questioning. Vein seems unfazed and rather amused by LG though.

Then with this question, I think answering the detective is a very sensible option -- if anyone ends up benefiting from the forest burning, it is the detective who's being compensated. Vein wouldn't be this enthusiastic over that. It's pragmatic and predictable in these types of story settings.

I think if LG were to engage with this question under a traditional clinical setting where he's safe to unload his feelings -- he'd take to the detective being the culprit.

11. Shao Yuanyuan did the "disrupt time to save my s/o" first

I'm thrown off by the line "If someone gets in, the timespace will be disrupted." At first, I assumed she meant if another person interrupts the timeline; i.e. LG. But she never specifies what she sought to do when she came to this time period to meet CXS, and apparently save CWM. It seemed whatever she sought to do is pre-destined to fail? Vein seems to interrupt in previous timelines, if LG's ability to plan around that indicates anything.

Another thing to note. As far as we know, she doesn't have someone like LG to cover her bases like CXS does. She seems to disregard hiding her personality from anyone -- so taking precaution for the safety of the possessed subjects doesn't seem to be a priority for her. All that matters is doing and achieving what she sets out to do. And if it's a miss, she'll facilitate other means through connections perhaps.

12. LG's speech to Vein seems very honest

LG villain monologued so hard, it only makes sense that he did so because he was very certain that he was speaking to a dead man. His last remark of "I hope we won't meet again" carries a tone of "I hope I won't have to dive back and meet you again" to me. Cuz LG has been in a reflective state for that whole episode (aside from the cute modelling montage).

The way he words it was very confusing, I had to type up the dialogue to digest it better. But LG basically says "I've been trying to figure out how to prevent CXS's death, but then I asked myself. What if his murderer was taken out of the picture? No need to fear the change. Just embrace it."

Implying that the reason LG fears deviation is point blank because deviation risks CXS's death being harder to prevent -- because he can't plan around unknown variables. But if such a deviation was for the purpose of eliminating a definite catalyst altogether, then he doesn't give a fuck.

I think after putting himself at ease with the belief that Vein has been eliminated -- this is when he's in S1, and is arguably less stressed and not forcing himself up flights of stairs to make sure events are recreated perfectly.

Everything should be hunky-dory, he knows most of the S1 events aren't lethal. That's why we can see 'Daily Life of Lightime' episodes -- LG thinks CXS's death node has been delayed at the very least.

"The future may not change due to a ripple of the past. Right now, I still don't believe I can come back here to change the past"

The Future: CXS's death a ripple of the past: killing Vein Right now: From LG's learned understanding change the past: sever CXS's death node

"All I want is to be with them and head to a new future. Because I know this is the last time."

a new future: a future that feels real. a future filled with hope. the last time: last time LG will be able to predict events. since he's locking in on letting paths deviate.

LG still has that jaded belief that things are hopeless. But he always chooses to chase after hope.

OPEN ENDED QUESTIONS POST-BRIDON CLARITY

Not like I can answer these questions rn, but maybe someone can! I'm up for suggestions!

Is SYY aware of LG’s interference with the time space? What could clue her in?

Is SYY’s secret she tells to CXS sth LG would already know abt?

Is LG aware of SYY’s exploits and influence as another time traveller?

Did Vein actually die in the Bridon arc or only by technicality?

What is the significance of Jack going missing alongside Xia Fei?

Is Bridon Arc seriously meant to be in the same timeline as S1 and S2?

In Bridon Arc, Shiguang meet in uni instead of s1e5’s high school backstory. Could this suggest that LG has spaced out checkpoints for opportunities to meet CXS between high school to uni (maybe even beyond)?

How does WQ's powers work?

How did CXS dive in and out of a photo to shield LG? The photo that was in front of LG was out of CXS's line of sight.

What did stalling Vein do to guarantee his death in LG's (usually paranoid) eyes?

Why does LX have a phone that read 2024 in it? What powers does this man have?

The director said someone in Bridon would actually die. Who would this be referring to? Was Vein's fake death actually fake? Or was he actually killed, but resurrected?

I think there's more to say, but I'll prolly reblog this post with more observations cuz this one's long as is. If there's anything I've missed or mistaken, leave your thoughts!

_________ updated edits: i went and fixed some grammar errors, missing text, and info discrepancies (1)*LG's reaction to losing connection with CXS during episode 5 is subtle on first watch, but on closer inspection, he is sweating heavily -- clearly having panicked

[disteal]

yknow it’s more than a little sad that every artists ‘hand-wringing panicking’ about what ai would do to the industry and how it would replace a lot of the already slim meat-and-potatoes jobs we rely on to survive were overwhelmingly proven true months after the technology really became widespread. It’s sad that convention space is being taken up by enormous booths full of cheap ai prints soaking up the limited space and money available at cons, it’s sad that competitions are getting flooded with ai generated pieces, it’s sad that i’ve seen a lot of ‘man. i’m just gonna go work at target, i can’t compete with this.’ from ppl who have been working in the industry for YEARS.

But it’s INFURIATING to see supposedly leftist game devs and indie ttrpg makers on here try and astroturf a PR campaign for ai to make using it for their projects more socially acceptable, and in order to do this paint artists as pearl clutching hysterics. As if anyone would blink on here if factory workers threw a brick through a window when they were being replaced by automation, but because art is never respected or treated like actual labor our industry collapsing is just kind of a big joke.

Like I saw someone compare the gay sex cats to Duchamp LIKE NO!!!! THEYRE NOT!!! The people who would get pissed off at Duchamp’s fountain are a very specific demographic!!!! Namely fascists!!! Like the implication of a statement like that is actually absurd. who is the fascist in this analogy, 25 year old nonbinary artists?? If you don’t want to pay artists to do your backgrounds for your indie game like just SAY it. (edit: additional context bc this got out of hand but I’ve looked at the blog of the person who said this and i’m walking back the salt I expressed here. It’s a nuanced take that wasn’t expressed super clearly in the post that went viral and he’s elaborated on it a lot in a way that makes me feel this was an unfair interpretation of his words. My bad)

[whump-in-the-closet]

"Am I a dog to you?"

inspired by @girlsdogmotif v amazing post <2

The car jerked to a stop.

Shuddering in the trunk, Sidekick squeezed their eyes shut, tears drying on their eyelashes. Their aching muscles, twisted into awkward positions, had gone numb—heavy—a long time ago.

The trunk door popped open with an automated hiss.

Villain stood over them, grinning. "Not so bold now, huh, punk?"

Everything slammed into place. The abduction. The showmanship. Villain’s signature cruelty dressed as charm.

Sidekick seethed into their gag, jaw aching with tension. Go to hell.

Villain laughed, teeth white. Bending down, he ruffled Sidekick's hair, starting from the base of their scalp and running his fingers up, up, up. Slow. Deliberate.

Sidekick flinched back, breathing hard and fast. Don't touch me.

Villain tsked and slapped Sidekick smartly. "Down, boy."

Not even the shadowy light could hide the burning in Sidekick's eyes or the sudden, stinging flush of humiliation.

Villain stepped back. "Get 'em out."

Villain's henchmen were more than happy to comply. They grabbed Sidekick's arms and hauled them out.

Fuck you guys too.

The garage's concrete floor smelled like dust, copper, and spilled blood.

Sidekick suppressed a gag, elastic muscles twitching in their throat-- could have been a combination of fear and nausea. Who knew.

The henchmen dropped them to the ground. And they collapsed, rubbery legs doing nothing to support them. With hands behind their back, they quite literally ate shit, hitting the ground with their shoulder and face.

"Mmm-ff!

Crismon pain exploded in their face, sensitive nerve endings scraped off and bruising skin left shredded.

Distorted laughter surrounded them.

Right, 'cause this is the kind of slapstick humor they like.

Villain knelt down and grabbed Sidekick's chin, ripping their head up.

"If you scream," he whispered, "There's no one to hear you but us."

Sidekick snarled into the gag. Hero will come.

"Hero isn't coming," Villain smiled. "I made sure of that."

Sidekick's confidence faltered and they looked away, everything suddenly throbbing.

Almost gently, Villain began to untie the outer part gag, letting the bloody layers drop away. The wad of cloth, buried so deep into Sidekick that it almost reached their trachea, remained. "Now, drop it." His grin had never left.

You're joking.

"C'mon boy, drop it." Villain's fingers dug into the sides of Sidekick's mouth, pinching, forcing Sidekick's torn mouth open.

Their stomach dropped, the world suddenly spinning.

More laughter from the henchmen.

Sidekick flushed a furious shade of red. They stretched their mouth around the wad of cloth and worked it out. They retched. Once, twice Finally, they coughed the thing out, dripping with saliva and copper blood.

Villain stroked Sidekick's trembling jaw. "There you go."

With aching teeth, Sidekick slurred out, "Am I a...dog to you?"

Villain chuckled, blue eyes dangerously bright. "You were Hero's lapdog first. Now you're mine."

Then watch me fucking bite.

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[empty-movement]

Welcome to Something Eternal: A Website Forum in 2023 wtf lmao

It's 2023, and a single belligerent rich guy destroyed one of the primary focal points of uh...global communication. Tumblr is, shockingly, kinda thriving despite the abuse it gets from its owners, but that I will call the iconic refusal of Tumblr users to let Tumblr get in the way of their using Tumblr. Reddit killed its API, removing the functionality of mobile apps that made it remotely readable (rip rif.) Discord, our current primary hangout, has made countless strange choices lately that indicate it has reached the summit of its usability and functionality, and can only decline from here as changes get made to prepare for shareholders. (NOTE: WROTE THIS POST BEFORE THEIR MOBILE "REDESIGN" LMAO)

The enshittification is intense, and it's coming from every direction. Social media platforms that felt like permanent institutions are instead slowly going to let fall fallow incredible amounts of history, works of art, thought, and fandoms. It kinda sucks!

A couple years ago, I posted about a new plan with a new domain, to focus on the archiving of media content, as I saw that to be the fatal weakness of the current ways the internet and fandoms work. Much has happened since to convince me to alter the direction of those efforts, though not abandon them entirely.

Long story short? We are launching a fucking website forum. In 2023.

If you remember In the Rose Garden, much about Something Eternal will be familiar. But this has been a year in the making, and in many ways it's far more ambitious than IRG was. We have put money on this. The forum is running on the same software major IT and technology businesses use, because I don't want the software to age out of usability within five years. It has an attached gallery system for me to post content to, including the Chiho Saito art collection. It has a profile post system that everyone already on the forum has decided is kinda like mini Twitter? But it is, fundamentally, a website forum, owned and run and moderated by us. We are not web devs. But we have run a website on pure spite and headbutting code for over twenty years, and we have over a decade of experience maintaining social spaces online, both on the OG forum, and on our Discord. Better skilled people with far more time than we have can and will build incredible alternatives to what is collapsing around us. But they're not in the room right now. We are. And you know what? Maybe it's time to return to a clunkier, slower moving, more conversation focused platform.

You're not joining a social media platform with the full polish of dozens of devs and automated moderation. Things might break, and I might need time to fix them. The emojis and such are still a work in progress. Because e-mails no longer route in reasonable normal ways, the sign-up process instead happens within the software, and has to be approved by mods. Design and structure elements may change. Etc. The point being, that the forum isn't finished, but it is at a place where I feel like I can present it to people, and it's people I need to help direct what functions and things will be in this space. You all will shape its norms, its traditions, its options...choices I could try to make now, but really...they're for us to create as a group! But the important stuff? That's there. Now let's drive this baby off the damn lot already!

Come! Join us!!

PS. As always, TERFs and Nazis need not apply.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Donnie Tech Part 1/?

After many moons here are the promised observations of the cartoon shtick logic of Donnie's weapons for season one!! Will link a season two and movie version Eventually, but keep in mind I can't explain in depth how each bit of tech works, rather that I can pinpoint the functions for the visual bit. Keep in mind that Donnie's tech can pretty much do any ridiculous thing you can put your mind to, and that it can also backfire in any ridiculous way you can put your mind to.

Tech Bo:

Collapsible, can become a shorter version of itself easily stored

Shoot a grappling hook AND function as a zip line

Can form a rocket from either end (usually at the same time, resulting in the bo spinning)

Is equipped to be a fire extinguisher

Can shoot out lasers

Has a button that activates the "Shopping Cart Protocol" to lock the Turtle Tank if it goes outside a set perimeter

Top can turn into a rocket powered fist

Turn into a giant drill

Turn into a saw

Turn into a tranquilizer

Turn into a tennis ball shooter

Turn into a selfie stick

Top can turn into a disco ball of "multidimensional reflective orb neutralizer"

Battle Shell:

Has rotary engines (think jet turbine or computer fan) that help him fly around. He calls them "rotors" for short

Can transform into a seat so April can sit on his back

Can split up into a DJ set up in "music mode"

Jet Pack Shell:

His fastest mode of transportation

Not much is shown, but April had a significant difficulty controlling it

Spider Shell:

Has four arms with three fingers

Arms can turn into saws

Has a seemingly endless toolkit inside that includes basic things like hammers and wrenches, but also blowtorches

Goggles:

Has night vision

Can function as binoculars

Is able to summon is tech ("communicates with microwave transceiver with class c encryption protocols")

Read mystic energy signatures after adding the crystal they found in Draxum's lab

Gauntlet:

Has an app that can tap into every security camera in NY

Bug Slapper:

Has a green Mad Dogs sticker on the side

Compacts itself into a metal suitcase and then expand back into a vehicle

So far only uses Big Mama's webbing material as projectiles

Shelldon:

Began as an automated smart lair designed with the intent as a cleaning assistant

Has a "disposal unit" which unlocks several of Donnie's weapons such as: guns, pinchers, drills, and flamethrowers

Can carry at least two turtles (Mikey and Donnie)

Is nicknamed "Cyber Bishop" by Donnie

Uses surfer dude slang: “dude”, “gnarly”, “buzzkill”, “okey dokey”, “dawg”, “you beefed it”, “brohounds"

As a smart lair has clear favoritism towards Donnie until tampered with. As a drone they share more of a familial or pet like relationship, and Shelldon has room to sometimes poke at Donnie's faults as well

In conclusion there's not much to worry about breaking canon, the physics of our reality, or understanding complicated tech and science to write about Donnie's tech. He can do whatever he wants as long as it's silly, overly dramatic, and includes an unnecessary amount of purple guns. His tech bo is especially flexible with breaking the rules even before we get to his ninpo powers.

I'm keeping the Turtle Tank separate, because it also deserves its own post. Happy writing!

[cl0udy3]

Shadow X Reader Enemies To Lovers Forced Proximity? (Context: I’ve Just Watched The Sonic Movie)

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

shadow the hedgehog x fem!rabbit!reader tw: none?? wc: 3093 helloo! sorry this took so long i was just so doubtful with my writing and i still am, plus i've been slightly busy with classes this week but i figured i should post something and 3000 words felt like enough! i really hope you enjoy it thanks for requesting!!

You never imagined that a simple quest for healing could lead you into a nightmare. Tonight, driven by a desperate need to recover a mysterious artifact—one that might mend the wounds of your past—you find yourself standing before the looming entrance of an abandoned research facility. Its rusted doors and crumbling walls speak of secrets long buried, and as you step inside, the cold, stale air wraps around you like a warning.

Your heart beats steadily, each thump echoing the determination that pushes you forward. “I have to do this,” you whisper, the words heavy with memories of what you’ve lost. Not so long ago, you had a life filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of family. But that life was shattered one fateful night—a night when everything you held dear was ripped away by forces you still struggle to understand. That evening, when the sky burned with anger and the streets erupted in chaos, you lost your family. Your parents, siblings, and the home you cherished were all taken in a senseless, calculated attack orchestrated by none other than Dr. Eggman.

Eggman, ever the master of chaos and technological terror, had targeted your town as part of a broader scheme to sow fear and destabilize the region. Under the guise of a sudden catastrophe, his monstrous machines descended upon your neighborhood, unleashing a barrage of explosives and automated drones. Amid the chaos of shattering glass, screeching metal, and the roar of Eggman’s engines, you were left standing alone in the wreckage. The screams of your loved ones still echo in your mind, a constant reminder of that night—and of Eggman’s ruthless ambition.

Almost immediately after stepping into the facility, you sense that you are not alone. As you move cautiously through a corridor lit by sporadic, flickering emergency lights, the sound of measured footsteps echoes behind you. You stop, instinctively turning toward the noise. Out of the shadow emerges a figure whose presence fills the space with an intense, brooding energy.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” a deep, gravelly voice demands. The figure steps forward into the weak light, revealing himself to be none other than Shadow the Hedgehog. His crimson eyes burn with suspicion, and his stance is all business—an imposing contrast to your gentle demeanor.

You straighten your back and meet his gaze. “I’m here on my own mission,” you reply firmly. “I’m looking for something that doesn’t concern you. I don’t mean to cause trouble.” Your voice is steady despite the underlying vulnerability, each word carrying the weight of loss—a loss of home, family, and the life you once knew.

Shadow’s eyes narrow. “This facility isn’t a place for someone like you,” he says, his tone laced with contempt. “I have my orders, and I can’t afford distractions.”

Before you can argue further, the building shudders violently. A deep rumble vibrates through the concrete floors, and the emergency lights begin to flash more urgently. Your instincts scream that something is terribly wrong. Then, without warning, a deafening explosion rocks the facility. The blast shatters nearby windows and sends debris tumbling from the ceiling. In an instant, the corridor transforms into a chaotic maze of dust, sparks, and collapsing walls.

“Dammit!” Shadow curses, his eyes scanning for a safe path. As the dust clears, you notice a massive, reinforced door slam shut behind you, sealing off any obvious exit. The roar of falling debris and the creak of twisting metal underscore the urgency of your situation.

“We’re trapped,” you say, your voice barely audible over the cacophony. Despite the danger, you force calm into your tone. “We have to work together if we’re going to get out of here.”

Shadow hesitates, his jaw clenching as he sizes you up. “I work alone,” he grumbles, yet there’s a flicker of reluctant understanding in his eyes. “But right now, I don’t see another option.”

As you both move deeper into the facility, the environment becomes a brutal test of survival. The corridors twist unpredictably, littered with fallen beams and sparking remnants of outdated technology. Every step forward is accompanied by the sound of crumbling concrete beneath your feet. Amid this chaos, your thoughts drift back to that terrible night. You remember the screams, the blinding flashes of fire, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal by a world that once promised safety and love. You recall how you were left standing alone amid the ruins of your former life, with nothing but fragments of memories and a desperate hope that someday you might reclaim a piece of that lost innocence.

“Watch your step,” Shadow orders as you navigate a narrow passage. You comply, carefully placing your feet on the uneven ground, though your eyes betray the growing anxiety “Sorry,” you mumble after a particularly close call when a chunk of debris nearly topples you over.

Shadow grunts. “Just stay focused. We’re not out of this yet.” His tone is terse, but you catch a glimpse of something softer in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that survival matters more than pride in moments like these.

At one point, as you both scramble to avoid a falling slab of concrete, your path narrows into a claustrophobic tunnel. The ceiling begins to crumble overhead, sending sharp fragments of metal plummeting toward you both. 

"Move!" Shadow barked, shoving you forward as the ceiling behind you collapsed. You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a tight space—a maintenance shaft, if you had to guess. Dust and debris clouded the air, the sound of the explosion ringing in your ears. Then, silence. The passage behind you was sealed shut. No way out. No space left between you. 

Your breath hitched as Shadow shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours in the impossibly tight space. The dim emergency light flickered above, barely illuminating the cold steel walls pressing in on both of you. Your back was already against the vent, but no matter how much you tried to shrink into yourself, the space between you and Shadow was nonexistent.

"Move over," you muttered, though you both knew there was no room left.

Shadow let out a short, irritated breath. "If I could, I would." His voice was steady, but there was something tense about it, like he was concentrating on anything but the fact that you were practically pressed against him.

You swallowed hard, hyper-aware of the way his fur barely grazed your arm. The warmth of him was unexpected—contrasting against the cold steel biting into your back. You weren’t supposed to be this aware of him. Not like this.

"Well," you tried, a smirk playing at your lips despite the way your heart was hammering. "Didn’t think you’d be the type to get flustered over something like this."

Shadow's ear twitched, but his expression remained unreadable. His eyes flicked to yours, crimson in the dim light, calculating. "You think I’m flustered?"

You blinked, suddenly unsure if you should be pushing this.

"Please," you scoffed, though it came out weaker than you intended. "I can practically feel you vibrating with tension."

Shadow’s jaw tightened, and instead of snapping back, he moved. Just a fraction of an inch, barely enough to notice—except you noticed everything. His chest almost brushed yours with the subtle shift, and the charged air between you felt suffocating.

"It's not the space that makes this unbearable," he muttered, voice low.

Your breath caught.

You should’ve been able to brush it off. Make some snide remarks. But you didn’t. Because you weren’t sure what he meant, and that uncertainty made your stomach flip.

Silence stretched between you. Too much, too little, too charged. The only thing keeping you grounded was the rhythmic rise and fall of Shadow’s breathing, steady but controlled—like he was trying to keep himself in check.

"As soon as we get out of here," he finally murmured, voice softer now, "this never happened."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, forcing out a chuckle. "Right. Sure."

But you weren’t so sure anymore.

After a few moments, the two of you manage to wriggle out of a small crack in the rubble, though not without a challenge. As you get out, you brush the dust and debris off your dress.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice unexpectedly soft, edged with a concern he rarely shows.

You force a smile. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I… appreciate it.” For a moment, the hostility between you seems to soften into something resembling mutual respect.

Once you’ve taken a brief pause to catch your breath, you exchange a glance with him. “Look,” you say, determination rising in your voice, “I know we just met, but if we don’t trust each other right now, we’re both doomed. I need your help, and you need mine.” Your words carry not just the urgency of survival.

Shadow’s eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite place—something that borders on understanding. “Fine,” he says grudgingly. “But we do this my way.”

As you make your way through the dark, crumbling corridors, the conversation inevitably drifts to the ghosts of your past. In a rare moment of quiet, you lower your voice and confess, “I wasn’t always alone. I had a family—a home. It was the happiest time of my life… until that night changed everything.”

You pause, memories pressing down like a weight on your chest. “It was a cold autumn evening. My parents, my siblings, and I were home, laughing, making plans for the future. Then came the sirens, the thunder of engines, the roar of Eggman’s machines. It wasn’t random—it was calculated. A message. A show of power meant to instill fear.” Your voice tightens, but you push through. “Explosions tore through our neighborhood. I remember the screams, the blinding flashes, and the terrible, inescapable realization that my world was ending. I was just a teenager, and in a matter of minutes, I lost everything.”

A heavy silence follows. The only sound is your footsteps against the worn floor and the distant creaks of the collapsing structure around you. You exhale, slow and steady, before continuing.

“After that night, I kept asking myself why. Why my home? Why my family? Why did I survive when they didn’t?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “I never found an answer. Just more emptiness. More silence.” You glance at him, hesitating. “I guess that’s why I kept searching—for something. Some kind of sign that all of this wasn’t meaningless.”

Shadow’s gaze flickers with something unreadable. “And do you really think you’ll find it?”

You let out a breath. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I have to try.”

His expression shifts, almost imperceptibly, but you catch it—the smallest crack in his usually impenetrable exterior. “I’ve spent too much time in the dark to remember what it means to hope,” he says finally, his voice quieter, laced with regret. “I was created for a purpose. Molded into a weapon. And in the process… I lost parts of myself I’ll never get back.”

The raw admission lingers, mingling with the distant echoes of a collapsing world. You glance at him, then at the path ahead. “Maybe tonight will remind us both of what we’re fighting for,” you say softly. “At least, I hope so.”

Your conversation is cut short as you approach an emergency exit—a reinforced door with a control panel sparking erratically. The panel flashes a series of warnings: “Critical Structural Failure Imminent” and “Override Required.”

Shadow immediately kneels by the panel. “Stand back,” he instructs, his fingers flying over the interface with practiced precision. You watch his every movement, admiring the focus in his eyes even as the tension mounts.

“Is it going to work?” you ask, your voice filled with anxious hope.

He doesn’t look up. “It has to,” he replies tersely. “We don’t have much time.” His tone leaves no room for discussion, yet you sense the determination behind every word.

Desperate to contribute, you rummage through your bag and pull out a worn datapad. “I found some schematics earlier,” you say, tapping on the screen with shaking fingers. “They might provide a workaround.” Your eyes meet his—a silent plea for trust amid the chaos.

Shadow hesitates, then nods. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.” The two of you huddle over the datapad, exchanging ideas and piecing together a solution as the building continues its ominous groaning.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours. Every beep of the alarm sends your heart into fresh panic, and every spark from the panel reminds you of the stakes. Finally, with one decisive keystroke, the panel displays a confirmation: “Override Successful.” The reinforced door shudders, its mechanisms groaning in protest before it begins to slide open, revealing a sliver of cool, fresh air beyond.

Relief washes over you. “We did it!” you exclaim, your voice ringing with genuine excitement. For the first time that night, hope sparkles in your eyes.

Shadow’s expression remains guarded as he steps forward to fully open the door. “Don’t celebrate yet,” he warns. “We still need to get out without triggering the rest of the collapse.”

You nod, determination shining through. “Right. Let’s move quickly.” Together, you step through the threshold into a narrow corridor leading to the outside—a passage that, against all odds, seems intact.

The air outside is cold and crisp, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. For a moment, you both stand there, catching your breath as the distant sound of crumbling concrete fades behind you. The night sky looms overhead, filled with stars that seem to wink in silent encouragement.

Shadow breaks the silence, his voice unusually soft. “I didn’t think I’d end up saving anyone tonight.” His admission comes more as an observation than a boast, revealing a hint of surprise at the unexpected bond forming between you.

You give him a small smile, your voice gentle and warm. “Maybe we’re both more capable than we think.”

As you both make your way away from the facility, you find temporary refuge in an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the complex. Inside, the dilapidated structure is dimly lit by a few scattered, flickering bulbs. The silence here offers a brief respite from the chaos you just escaped.

Settling onto a dusty crate, your body still thrumming with adrenaline, you exhale sharply. “Well, we made it,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Shadow. Your hands are still unsteady, your mind replaying every close call, every moment you almost didn’t make it out. “Didn’t think I’d live to see another sunrise.”

You drag a hand down your face, swallowing the bitterness rising in your throat. “I lost everything once—my family, my home, the life I was supposed to have. And for what? Some power-hungry lunatic’s need to prove a point?” Your jaw tightens. “People talk about healing like it’s inevitable. Like time smooths out the edges, makes the pain easier to carry. But some wounds don’t heal. They just fester.”

Shadow sits a few feet away, his gaze fixed on the darkened warehouse interior. “Safety isn’t something I’ve known for a long time,” he says at last. “Maybe… maybe there’s a chance to change that.” His voice carries the weight of years.

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t believe in safety. Not really. People like us? We don’t get peace. We get moments—brief pauses between fights. And the second you start thinking otherwise, the world reminds you exactly what it is.” Your fingers drum against your knee before stilling. “I didn’t come here looking for hope. I came here because I needed something—anything—to make this fight mean something.”

Shadow finally turns to you, his crimson gaze unreadable. “And do you think you’ve found it?”

You scoff. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I keep looking. Because if I stop… then what the hell was the point of surviving?”

His expression shifts—just a flicker, almost imperceptible—but you catch it. The smallest crack in the walls he’s built around himself. “I’ve spent too much time in the dark to remember what it means to hope,” he says finally, his voice quieter, laced with something that almost sounds like regret. “I was created for a purpose. Molded into a weapon. And in the process… I lost parts of myself I’ll never get back.”

The raw admission lingers in the stale air. You don’t offer reassurances or some empty promise that everything will be okay. You both know better than that.

Instead, you push yourself to your feet and glance toward the broken windows, where the first hints of dawn begin to seep through. “Maybe tonight was about more than just survival,” you murmur. “Maybe it was a reminder of what’s still worth fighting for.”

Later, on a creaky rooftop overlooking the sleeping city, the two of you finally allow yourselves a moment of stillness. The night’s horrors are behind you, but they’ve left their marks—some visible, others buried deeper. The cool morning air stings your lungs, but it’s a welcome reminder that you’re still here.

Shadow watches the horizon, his voice quieter now but filled with an unexpected sincerity. “I never imagined I’d find someone like you in all this mess. You’ve made me question everything I thought I knew about trust… and what comes after.”

You huff out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Trust isn’t something I give freely. And hope? I don’t think I have it in me to be the kind of person who believes everything will turn out fine.” 

He studies you for a moment before nodding, something resigned yet resolute in his expression. “Perhaps… together, we can find a way to let the light in. Even if just a little.”

As the sun rises higher, casting long shadows across the city, the weight of the night lingers—but so does the unspoken understanding between you. Whatever happens next, neither of you is walking this road alone.

You smirk, stretching the stiffness from your shoulders as you start toward the streets below. “So, what now?”

Shadow glances at you, and for the first time, there’s something almost resembling amusement in his gaze. “Now… we see where this path leads.”

You scoff but fall into step beside him. “Fine. But don’t expect me to start preaching about hope and redemption.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he deadpans.

And with that, the two of you disappear into the waking city, stepping forward not toward certainty, but toward whatever fight comes next.

[brehaaorgana]

ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

[blackjackkent]

Occasionally I think about the fact that I probably have (most of) the technical skills to build a serviceable Tumblr alternative in the event of The Collapse, and have an investment in the culture and preservation/enabling of fandom creation, and I start wondering again about whether it would be a good idea to make an attempt.

And then I always run up against the elephant in the room which is cost. The cost of maintaining a site like this at scale must be astronomical. Vast numbers of servers for redundancy and global endpoints, processing power to handle millions of simultaneous requests, database storage for an exponentially growing amount of posts and reblog information, and then the image hosting requirements, my god... and the human non-automated moderation that people want...

I already spend a sizable chunk of change just keeping RPThreadTracker running and that thing is TINY.

This is why I get a little frustrated at the kneejerk aversion to any sort of monetary support by the Tumblr userbase; I think a lot of people just don't fathom that if you want a FREE site and community of this size and robustness, money still HAS to be involved somewhere. A LOT of money. Which means our options are:

A powerful corporate interest

Having our data sold to the highest bidder

User participation in donations and optional purchases

Tumblr has a combination of 1 and 3 which allows us to avoid 2, and yet people constantly spit in the face of 3 and then wonder why the whole situation is so fragile.

Anyway, all this to say that I need some extraordinarily rich person who is at home in the Tumblr ecosystem to come out of the woodwork. I just wanna talk.

[artemisia-black]

How do you think Azkaban works? Do they have extremely depressed house elves making the food for the prisoners? Or do the prisoners themselves have a work rota of cooking and cleaning more or less like muggle prisons? Are the dementors the only wardens, can they ID prisoners in any functional way? Or are there wizards there in admin roles?

Is there a very precarious courtyard gym? Was Lucius Malfoy breaking rocks and getting a stick-and-poke tattoo from one of the Carrows? How do visits work? Are they allowed conjugal visits? Do you think true crime girlies tried to pull that when Sirius was taken in?

Are all the cells the same? Or are maximum security cases like Sirius and Bellatrix kept in isolation, where petty thieves and magic carpet smugglers may bunk together?

Oooh anon here comes an essay ♥️

Food and Labour:

I don’t think the prisoners are cooking or cleaning. The whole point of Azkaban is total hopelessness. Giving prisoners tasks; even dull ones ) could provide structure, which might, god forbid, foster a sense of purpose. Can’t have that- especially as they see insanity as the ultimate punishment. I have a meta about it here

I doubt there are house-elves either.

More likely: the Ministry sends rations to the island — probably magically-preserved sludge that just about keeps people alive. I HC there’s some kind of automated spellwork in the kitchen areas that portions things out so the dementors can deliver it ( dementoroo), designed to serve food that is technically edible, but so soul-crushing it actively hastens psychological collapse.

Wardens and Administration:

Before the post war reforms the Dementors are the primary “guards.”

Can they ID prisoners? Not conventionally. They don’t see with eyes; they feel. (According to Sirius). They can probably distinguish prisoners based on emotional “flavour” the way a sommelier can tell you which vineyard a wine came from.

That said, I refuse to believe even the Ministry would let literal soul-eating wraiths handle all logistics. There must be a handful of extremely unfortunate Ministry workers assigned to admin roles: transporting prisoners, recording deaths, updating rolls. Also who is doing the photoshoots that meant there was a fresh pic of Sirius on hand when he escaped.

Exercise and Recreation

There is absolutely no courtyard gym. None. No Lucius Malfoy doing squats while Crabbe Sr. counts reps.

Exercise is hope. Exercise is self-care and good mental health. Azkaban’s entire ethos is the annihilation of self. I doubt prisoners even get fresh air breaks.

Visits and Conjugal Rights:

Absolutely not. Can you imagine your happiest memory would getting ripped out of your body mid-shag?

Visits would be restricted to extremely rare, Ministry-sanctioned events: trial appeals, re-sentencing, possibly posthumous identification (“Is this the body of your husband? Sign here.”)

As for true crime girlies thirsting over prisoners? Oh, 1000%. Sirius Black would have had deranged fanmail - see end of this for both my fic about his fanmail and my script for a podcast about him. No one would be allowed to visit, but there would be a pile of owl-delivered “you don’t know the real him” letters mouldering in a Ministry mailroom somewhere.

My podcast fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55304761

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33898300

Snippet: Artemisia Black: And now, a quick word from our friends at Mundungus Fletcher’s Legitimate Potion Ingredients! Sponsored Ad Break]

My fanmail fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33898300

Snippet: Documents?’ The guard snorted derisively, shaking his head, as he pulled out a large stack of letters from a drawer in his desk. ‘You mean his fan mail?’

Kingsley controlled the urge to smile. He did mean the fan mail, and he intended to deliver it to its recipient to make him laugh.

‘Yes,’ he said as soberly as he could, ‘They are key documents in my ongoing investigation.’

‘Well, there’s plenty more,’ the guard said, rolling his eyes. ‘Honestly, these people need locking up themselves.’

Fic: Dave the Dementor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62099272

Snippet: Had he not won Azkaban's Employee of the Year four times in a row after arriving from Iceland as a fresh graduate of the university of human misery?

Oh, how he had savoured his victory over the other Dementors, who had initially mocked his innovative introduction of microtortures.

How they had scoffed when he first suggested seasoning the British prisoners’ food while leaving everyone else’s agonisingly under-seasoned.

[vortexofadigitalkind]

They Shut Down the Last Factory While We Slept - A Scarcity Engine Prequel

[asukaindetroit]

Post-Revolution DBH Headcanons: Android Culture Part 2

<< Back to Part 1 (If You Missed It) (some of this stuff references that stuff). Onward to Part 3 >> On to Part 4 >> Some more snippets of possible android cultural stuff—as before, feel free to use for inspo as long as you share the end result with me because I'm a fan content whore.

Detroit becomes a destination for android tourism. Androids from across the country come to see where it all happened. A National Android History Museum opens some five years on from the revolution and tries to serve as both a repository for stories from the revolution and a center for android advocacy. Memorials and monuments pop up in places like Capitol Park and Hart Plaza, honoring victims and describing the significance of the locations. November 11 is a day to lay wreaths at Hart Plaza, and androids join hands there for a group interface to grieve as a whole.

There’s massive economic and social upheaval. Every time the demographics of the labor force change, there’s massive, rapid shifts in society. WWII happened, and we went from “married women are homemakers” to “Rosie the Riveter” and the idea of the dual-income household popped up in its wake. Unemployment spikes as all the androids now count as laborers, but just as quickly fall as androids set out to run their own businesses as well as humans having to hire. Construction and housing see booms as androids need homes. Some businesses (like Eden Club) collapse and other industries appear overnight. Conflict breeds scarcity breeds invention has always been the cycle of human history, and post-revolution Detroit enters the invention phase, seeing a cultural boom… if not always the kind of culture humans are comfortable with.

Detroit agate (Fordite) becomes a cultural symbol for androids. If you’re unfamiliar with it, Detroit agate (a.k.a. Motor City agate or Fordite) is an artifact of the pre-1990s automotive industry, where layers of spray enamel would build up in the painting bays at car factories, harden into chunks, and eventually have to be scraped or chiseled off the equipment. It has wildly banded layers of color and the colors can tell you what company and decade it comes from based on how they were painting their cars. A lot of factory workers took chunks home, and gemstone cutters eventually figured out it could be cut into neat stones. It’s not always safe, because a lot of car paint contains lead, but androids don’t get lead poisoning, so what do they care? I’m sure some deviants found some in abandoned post-industrial spots while they were lurking around Detroit’s underbelly, and kept them just to have something pretty and colorful. Maybe they relate to it because it, too, is something that evolved a purpose beyond the human capitalist industry that created it. After the revolution, one of the organized places for rA9 worship is a huge outdoor installation of metal wall surfaces, where androids can buy or bring (lead-free) enamel and spray messages to rA9 in bright rainbow colors. Once enough layers are built up and hardened, they scrape it off to sell to fund the church and its activities, rinse, and repeat for the next round of devotees. Android rights supporters and rA9 adherents are often found wearing Detroit agate. Getting a piece of Detroit agate jewelry from an android coworker or friend is a sign that they trust you to treat them as an equal. A r­­eligious android might keep a small rA9 figurine made of it at their desk or in their home. Modders might embed a piece in their chassis.

Deviant androids had actually been guiding social media for years, under the radar. Social media access for androids was a thing from the start, as influencers would use them to automate posts and help create content, etc. But just as the internet has served as a refuge for human cultures, deviated androids had been using social media to post ideas to unknowing humans, opening online discourse on androids. Public opinion isn’t swayed from “these are machines” to “oh no, stop murdering the poor robots” over the course of a week. It’s just… not. This had to be happening under the radar for years. Androids would take selfies then post things like “sometimes I think this guy understands me more than anyone else” and a human would chime in with “mood, my android is the best,” or they’d try and look extra cutesy in a pic so randos would be like “Give that PL600 an extra packet of thirium­!” and drop five bucks into the android's online tip jar made with fake credentials. Escaped Tracis set up on 2038's OnlyFans-equivalents, just to fund their waystation for escapees. All this continues post-revolution, with some big influencer accounts eventually outing themselves and using their fanbase to share android voices. Gossip rags have headlines like “She Was an Android All Along!” and “Love in the Wake of Revolution”

This is an ongoing series of android culture concepts, so if you want a tag when the next batch is up, leave a comment!

Onward to Part 3 >> On to Part 4 >>

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi there! First of all I just discovered your blog and it helped me understand a lot about autism. I was recently diagnosed and I had maaany questions, and going through your blog gave me some answers. So thank you so much for your dedication! ✨

I was wondering if you could share some stuff about burnouts? I saw the post of the signs of burnouts, but I was wondering if you had information about what are the common causes or how to deal with them?

Have a great day/night!

Hi there,

I found some information in burnout recovery and causes:

Text

Signs

* Lack of motivation (hard to care about goals when everyday life is overwhelming)

* Loss of executive functioning abilities (decision-making, organization, etc.)

* Difficulty with self-care

* Easier to reach overload or meltdown

* Loss of speech, selective mutism

* Lethargy, exhaustion

* Illness, digestive issues

* Memory loss

* Inability to maintain masks or use social skills

* Overall seeming "more autistic" or stereotypical

* May have period of high energy before collapse

causes

* Passing as neurotypical / suppressing autistic traits

* Doing 'too much', too much stress

* Aging: needing more downtime, having less energy

* Changes, good or bad (relationships, jobs, living arrangements, belongings, environment, routines...)

* Sleep deprivation, poor nutrition, dehydration

* Illness

* Sensory or emotional overload

strategies

* Time

* Scheduling breaks, managing spoons

* Leave of absence

* Stimming, sensory diet

* Exercise

* Reassured and supports

* Routines

* Better environment/job/etc.

* Boundaries, saying 'no'

* Dropping the mask/façade

* Solitude

* Absolute quiet

* Creative projects, passions, special interests

* Paying attention to reactions and your body

Here’s another Infograph I found:

Text

Sleep and rest as much as you can. We often need more sleep than allistics and it is especially crucial to meet our need for extra sleep while in burnout.

Reduce your energy expenditure. Within reason, reduce social time and the amount of information you are taking in on a daily basis. This often means saying no, even to things you think you

"want" to do. (ex. re-watch TV rather than start new shows)

Engage in special interests at a comfortable and sustainable level. Rather than doing in-depth research, try decorating your space with posters or objects related to your special interests or watching a TV show related to one of them.

Focus on your hypersensitivities. Use earplugs/ headphones/sunglasses, use dishwashing gloves and a mask while cleaning, wear comfortable clothes, eat safe foods, leave spaces that are too bright, loud, or fragrant.

Stim!! MOVEMENT: dance, rock, tap, flap, stretch, walk, stim toys.

TOUCH: soft fabric, self-massage, play with hair. VISUAL: watch

TV/ movie, kaleidoscope, coloring book, satisfying videos

AUDIO/VOICE music, singing, echolalia. REPETATION/SORTING: solitaire, puzzles, sorting objects, repetitive doodles, counting.

VERY slowly create systers/routines that automate your care needs and implement them very slowly. This can look like visual aids, timers, lists, bullet journols, weekly routines, Expect if to take time and trial and error to get into these habits. Pick I-2 habits or systems to implement at a time, starting with the ones you're most excifed about.

Autistic burnout and Complex PTSD have a lot in common and executive dysfunction often increases during burnout, so resources made for these can be very helpful.

Burnout Recovery

I hope this helps. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[dailyanarchistposts]

The collapse of workerism

Of course, some would have it that we never lost a revolutionary perspective at all, quite confident they had the solution all along. This comes in the form of workerism, a broad set of strategies – mainly Marxist or anarcho-syndicalist – that affirm the centrality of the working class for overthrowing capitalism. In the history of revolutionary struggle, few ideas have consistently held more sway; but surely that’s only the reason why this sorely outdated approach has proven so hard to get over. Things have changed more dramatically than ever in the last decades, shattering the material conditions that once granted workplace organisation such grandiose pretensions. It’s important to clarify why, or else the attempt to exceed activism risks being subsumed by yet another reformist method, this one all the more stagnant.

Only a few decades ago, the prospects of organised labour in the Global North were much more hopeful, with trade unions retaining a great deal of strength into the 1970s. Mainly during the ‘80s, however, capitalist production underwent some major alterations. Profound technological developments in the field of electronics – especially digitisation – caused the productive process to become much more automated, requiring significantly less human input. This combined with an increased ability on the part of employers to outsource employment to less economically developed countries, where labour was much cheaper. Fairly suddenly, therefore, the two biggest sectors of the economy – split mainly between industry and agriculture – were greatly reduced in size, resulting in massive layoffs. Yet those who lost their jobs were generally absorbed by steady growth in the services sector, thereby avoiding immediate social destabilisation. Whilst it was once the smallest economic sector by a long way, the services sector is now by far the largest in the Global North, even approaching 80% employment rates in the US, UK, and France.

The result has been a striking redefinition of the common notion of work. It’s lost its centre of gravity in the factory, having fragmented instead in the direction of various post-industrial workplaces – restaurants, shops, offices. Once a largely centralised mass, the working class has been dispersed across the social terrain, the new focus being on small, highly diverse productive units. Between these units, workers possess few common interests and interact little, leading to a significantly diminished potential for collective action. Of course, resistance in the workplace continues, but the internal avenues necessary for revolt to generalise have been majorly severed, the situation continuing to decline in light of ever greater technological advance.

Nobody can deny the profound identity crisis faced by the working class. Only a few decades ago, the factory was seen as the centre of everything, with workers offering the vital component in the functioning of society as a whole. Work was once a way of life, not so much in terms of the amount of time it took up, but instead because of the clear sense of existential grounding it offered. For generations, there had been a strong link between work and professionalism, with most workers committing to a single craft for the entirety of their lives. Career paths were passed down from father to son, who often remained in the same company; the families of different workers also maintained close ties with one another. Nowadays, however, everything has changed: employment is immensely uncertain, the relentless fluidity of the post-industrial economy forcing most to get by on a roster of precarious, low-skilled jobs. Far fewer people take pride in their work, especially given that employment only rarely has a convincing subtext of doing something socially important. Trade unions have also vanished as a historical force, having been defeated in the key battles of the ‘80s, their membership levels imploding in lock-step with the advance of neoliberalism. A residue of the old world still exists, but it continues to dissipate further every day, never to return. In the Global South, too, things are inevitably moving in the same direction.

These developments cast serious doubt on the validity of Marxist and anarcho-syndicalist strategies for revolution. It’s becoming increasingly meaningless to speak of “the workers” in reference to a cohesive entity. It isn’t as if the disintegration of the working class implies the absence of poverty, nor of the excluded – in no sense whatsoever. What it does mean is the end of the working class as a subject. One that was, as Marx put it, “disciplined, united, organised by the very mechanism of the process of capitalist production itself” (Capital, 1867). Over the last decades, the working class has been dismembered and demoralised by the very same mechanism: just as the mass application of steam and machinery into the productive process created the industrial proletariat two centuries ago, the invention of new, automated technologies has led to its dissolution. There’s no single project around which to unite the working class any more; it follows, as with identity politics, that gains in the workplace will almost always be limited to improving capitalism rather than destroying it. The Industrial Revolution has been superseded by the Digital Revolution, yet the revolutionary optimism of workerism remains ideologically trapped in a bygone era, fumbling for relevance in a century that won’t have it. Although, to be honest, this is hardly news: already for some time now, the nostalgic language of workerism has come across as stale and outdated to most, even if academics often struggle to keep up.

In any case, the collapse of workerism might be nothing to mourn. Another implication of the end of traditional employment is the predominance of a range of workplaces few would want to appropriate anyway. The factory has been replaced by the likes of call centres, supermarkets, service stations, fast food joints, and coffee shop chains. Yet surely no one can imagine themselves maintaining these workplaces after the revolution, as if anything resembling a collectively run Starbucks or factory farm is what we’re going for? When workerism first became popular, there was an obvious applicability of most work to the prospect of a free society. In the 21st century, however, the alienation of labour runs all the deeper: no longer is it the mere fact of lacking control over work, but instead its inherent function that’s usually the problem. To put it another way, it should come as no surprise that Marxists haven’t yet replaced their hammer and sickle with an office desk and espresso machine, as would be necessary to keep up with the times. The modern symbols of work are worthy only of scorn, not the kind of valorisation involved in putting them on a flag.

This is another big problem for the workerist theory of revolution, given its conception of revolution primarily or even exclusively in terms of the seizure of the means of production. Achieving reforms in the workplace is one thing, but only rarely can such exercises in confidence-building be taken as steps towards appropriating the workplace altogether. Surely the point isn’t to democratise the economy, but instead to pick it apart: those aspects of the economy genuinely worth collectivising, as opposed to converting or simply burning, are few and far between. Of course, they still exist, but they’re marginal. And that confirms the absurdity of expecting workplace organisation to offer the centrepiece of any future revolution.

This hardly implies doing away with the material aspects of revolutionary struggle, given that communising the conditions of existence remains necessary for living our lives – not just this or that activist campaign – in genuine conflict with the system. All the more, the moment in which these subterranean influences suddenly erupt, and mass communisation overturns the ordinary functioning of the capitalist machine, surely remains a defining feature of revolution itself. Yet such endeavours must be sharply distinguished from seizing the means of production – that is, appropriating the capitalist infrastructure more or less as it stands before us. Far from offering a vision of the world we want to see, the syndicalist proposal to reclaim the conditions of work – to assume control of very the system that’s destroying us – merely implies self-managing not only our own exploitation, but also that of the planet.

As an aside, it should be added that these issues undermine the contemporary relevance of Marxism altogether. It was previously suggested that Marxian class analysis no longer offers a credible account of oppression; the current discussion, meanwhile, suggests it cannot be used to frame the topic of revolution either. As a method for interpreting the world, as well as for changing it, Marxism has had its day. If we wanted to be a little diplomatic, we could say this isn’t so much a criticism of the theory itself, more a recognition of the fact that the world it was designed to engage with no longer exists. If we wanted to be a little less diplomatic, moreover, it should be added that what’s left of Marxism is utterly boring, reformist, and kept “alive” almost exclusively by academics. As the big guy declared back in 1852, “The tradition of all the dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living.” Yet in no case has this claim, offered in response to the lack of imagination amongst revolutionaries in the 19th century, been more relevant than with Marxism today. We should pay our respects, if indeed any respect is due, whilst refusing to be crippled by an outdated approach. The same goes for anarcho-syndicalism, its once unbridled potential decisively shut down by the combined victories of fascism and Bolshevism.

To offer a last word of clarification, none of this implies doing away with workplace organisation altogether. There’s still much to be said for confronting power on every front: the collectivisation of any remaining useful workplaces, as well as the fierce application of the general strike, surely remains vital for any effective revolutionary mosaic. Just as workplace organisation continues to prove effective for breaking down social barriers, as well as potentially improving our lives in the here and now. The core claim offered here is only that it cannot be considered the centrepiece of revolutionary struggle altogether – quite the minimal conclusion. Merely in terms of asking what the abolition of class might look like today, workerism has lost its way. And that doesn’t begin to consider the abolition of hierarchy as such. When taken in isolation, organised labour offers nothing more than a subtle variety of reformism, thinly cloaked in its stuffy revolutionary pretensions. Total liberation, by contrast, refuses to single out any focal points of the clash, be they workerist, activist, or otherwise.

[cardiacreports2]

Paramedic Incident Report

Incident Number: 2024-19245 Date: December 6, 2024 Time of Call: 15:23

Incident Location: ClimbX Indoor Gym, 345 Summit Street, Boulder, CO

Patient Information:

Name: Daniel Carson

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 165 lbs

Physical Description: Lean and muscular build with well-defined arms and torso typical of an experienced climber. Short dark brown hair, light complexion.

Description of Incident: At 15:23, dispatch received a 911 call reporting a young male climber had collapsed while bouldering at an indoor climbing facility. The patient was reportedly scaling a mid-level climb when witnesses described him suddenly clutching his chest, losing his grip, and falling to the mat below. He was unresponsive upon initial assessment by gym staff.

Initial Assessment Upon Arrival (15:30):

Level of Consciousness: Unresponsive

Pulse: Absent

Respiratory Effort: None

Skin Condition: Pale, cool, and clammy

Pupils: Fixed and dilated

Bystanders reported that staff initiated CPR immediately after the collapse and delivered one shock using the facility's automated external defibrillator (AED).

Treatment at Scene (15:30-15:45):

CPR: High-quality chest compressions continued upon paramedics’ arrival.

Airway Management: Airway secured with a bag-valve mask; oxygen at 15 L/min.

AED Analysis: AED advised one additional shock, which was administered at 15:35. Return of spontaneous circulation (ROSC) achieved at 15:37.

Vital Signs Post-ROSC:

Pulse: Weak and irregular at 45 bpm

Blood Pressure: 80/50 mmHg

Respiration: Shallow and labored at 10 breaths/min

Oxygen Saturation: 78%

Transport Summary (15:45-16:00): Patient was loaded into the ambulance for transport to St. Anthony's Hospital. During transport, the patient exhibited further signs of cardiac distress. At 15:50, he experienced ventricular fibrillation (VF).

Intervention: CPR resumed, epinephrine 1 mg administered IV, and defibrillation attempted twice.

Outcome: No ROSC achieved after second cardiac arrest.

Time of Death: 16:00

Remarks: The patient suffered two cardiac arrests within a 30-minute period, likely indicative of a severe underlying cardiac condition. Efforts to stabilize were unsuccessful due to continued arrhythmias and compromised circulation.

Autopsy Report

Case Number: 2024-AU-1245 Date of Examination: December 7, 2024 Time of Examination: 09:00

Name: Daniel Carson Age: 20 Height: 5'11" Weight: 165 lbs Sex: Male Race: Caucasian

External Examination:

General Appearance: Well-developed and muscular young male. No evidence of external trauma except for mild abrasions on the back of hands and forearms, consistent with climbing activities. Skin pale with slight cyanosis around the lips and nail beds.

Scars/Marks: None significant.

Tattoos: None noted.

Clothing: Patient arrived wearing climbing shorts and a tank top.

Internal Examination:

Cardiovascular System:

Heart: Enlarged, weighing 420 grams (average for age/weight: 300-350 grams).

Valves: Mitral valve revealed significant calcification and fibrosis, indicative of a congenital defect. The defective valve exhibited stenosis, which restricted blood flow and created turbulent circulation.

Coronary Arteries: Severe occlusion (95%) of the left anterior descending (LAD) artery due to atherosclerotic plaque.

Myocardium: Evidence of acute ischemic changes and scarring, suggesting prior silent infarctions. The ventricular walls were thickened (hypertrophic cardiomyopathy).

Aorta: Normal caliber and appearance.

Respiratory System:

Lungs congested, with frothy fluid in the trachea and bronchi.

Right lung: 450 grams; Left lung: 430 grams.

Gastrointestinal System:

Stomach contained approximately 200 mL of partially digested food.

No abnormalities in the esophagus, stomach, or intestines.

Central Nervous System:

Brain weight: 1,450 grams. No gross abnormalities.

Other Organs:

Liver: Enlarged (1,600 grams), possibly due to mild congestion.

Kidneys: Unremarkable.

Spleen: Normal size.

Microscopic Examination:

Heart Tissue: Acute myocardial infarction visible in sections of the left ventricle.

Coronary Arteries: Advanced plaque buildup with rupture and thrombus formation.

Mitral Valve: Fibrotic thickening and calcification evident.

Toxicology:

No evidence of drugs or alcohol.

Summary and Cause of Death: Daniel Carson, a 20-year-old male, died from complications of a congenital mitral valve defect and severe coronary artery disease. The primary event was a massive myocardial infarction triggered by the blockage of the LAD artery. A second cardiac arrest during transport proved fatal.

Final Diagnosis:

Acute myocardial infarction secondary to LAD artery occlusion.

Congenital mitral valve stenosis and calcification.

Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy contributing to cardiac instability.

Cause of Death: Cardiac arrest due to a defective valve and blocked artery.

Manner of Death: Natural.

Signed by: Dr. Margaret Li, MD Pathologist