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justanotherlonelywritersblog · 3 months

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My Everlasting Muse pt.1

Harry styles x OC

Warnings: 18+ Drugs, smoking, alcohol, mature content, swearing

Meeting someone who is irrevocably, unapologetically themselves is near impossible these days.

There was a point in my life where I was stuck in a tsunami of grief, with waves of hidden agendas and vendettas constantly crashing against me. Never knowing which friend would be the next to betray me, or which camera would snap a picture of my walking corpse, or which news outlet would pay the prettiest dime for a glimpse of my remains. Hollywood breeds trust issues and kills the most beautiful minds. All because they had a dream, they once thought was worth pursuing.

Growing up the idea of music and having a career in it sounded magical. So unbelievably naive, I studied every vinyl, witnessed as many concerts as I could, and sang until my vocal cords went raw. And when the opportunity planted itself in front of me, I leaped across the ocean with hopes and dreams and ended up landing in the viper's den. And as the tickets sold, and my voice was heard across the world I learned to hate what I once used to adore. And as the stadiums roared, and the music played, my interest in cocaine and booze increased every day.

The family and friends I used to hang out with every Sunday, no longer heard from me. Getting their updates on my life with the rest of the world, through tabloids and news stations. The claws of Hollywood were digging into me, indulging every night, waking up to a groupie every morning, and feeling lost in the process of creation. I sang words of love and ambition but was experiencing none of those feelings. On the outside, I was the epitome of coming from nothing and making a real name for yourself. But was it worth sacrificing everything and everyone I've ever known? Well, I don't know.

I was drowning and quickly sinking further down a whole of scandals and self-destruction, not knowing who to ask or how to ask for help, when everyone around me is in the same sinking boat as I am. I wrote a song when I was younger, it's the reason I have the fortune I do now, it was about how love can save you from the darkest of things. But I didn't know at the time, that even love couldn't save you from yourself.

Or at least I thought so.

A girl with eyes of salt, and an annoyingly positive personality somehow swam onto my sinking ship and rescued me from the wreck that was myself. I didn't think it was possible. A girl I once detested and hated everything she stood for, who was irrevocably and unapologetically herself, became my everlasting muse.

And honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.

..............

Love is ironic.

It's magnetizing because it can elicit happiness, but it can also elicit pain. For it is the pain that reminds you of how truly connected you are to the person you fell in love with.

I wasn't always so unapologetically me.

There was a time in my life when I would sit under the stars and pray to anything, anyone up there, to give me a sign that I wasn't broken, that I wasn't unlovable, and that there was someone out there who would reassure me that I wasn't a freak of nature. Growing up in a home where shouting was the courtesy, and broken bottles were normal, it made sense I clang to the first person who showed me a sliver of love. So entrapped in the appeal of being in love, I naively went from one traumatic home to another.

A voice that used to be gentle, now reflected my father's. Deep and intoxicated, staggering around our home with shoves and the occasional fist to my face. Isolated and a million miles away from everything I've ever known, I became trapped in this cycle of intoxication and abuse that I so badly wanted to escape.

I was repeating my mother's mistakes.

And the day I realized that I left in a raggedy zeppelin t-shirt, with blood-soaked hands and never looked back.

Starting over in a new city, with a new name and a new goal in life.

Just be me.

I wanted to determine my own fate, my own decisions, my own passions. I was over letting people walk over me and being confined to their ideas of what I should be.

However, I never expected this new chapter in my life to end up unraveling like it did.

Booze, regrets, parties, and cigarettes.

I guess the trauma was resurfacing through self-deprecating behavior. But I'm not shaming my past mistakes, for it ended up leading to my savior. He was older, and his aura pulsed trouble. He didn't have to carry himself; his name did all the work for him. His brooding nature, and downright miserable attitude made me want to be the positive one for once.

I knew the logical thing was to ignore him. I knew who he was, I knew the danger that surrounded him, and the spotlight that followed him. I should've left him and never looked back, as I had done in my past life. However, there was something magnetic pulling me towards him. Maybe it was the universe, maybe it was just luck how we always ended up in the same place and the same time.

I became his anchor; he became my life.

I never thought I'd be known as Harry Style's everlasting muse.

But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

............

pt. 2 here

A/N: ahhhhhh i'm so excited!! Let me know what you think so far! This is my first fan fic so please be nice lol

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy reading this! Updates will come as soon as I can! I'm so excited about this story, let me know what you think so far!

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles smut #oc #pls be nice #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #creative writing

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kairos-polaris · 4 months

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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "yaoshifollower"?

my name is a game reference! i picked it in April-May last year when i just started playing hsr and we got introduced to the aeon/god of abundance Yaoshi, i really liked their design and the idea that even good blessings can be harmful if taken to extreme. which is why i am their follower!

now, for my top ten fics, i am going to limit myself to jjk only but i can do a general list too if anyone is interested

(not ranking them because it's something i always struggle with ranking anything)

1. every jjk fic by voxofthevoid @voxofthevoid, because they'd take up the entire list otherwise. i can't chose one favourite tho the way it follows you home, the stories i never told and isolation neophyte, too afraid to taste your conscience are close contenders for the first place

i adore the way he writes Gojo, that arrogant selfish bastard, and Yuuji, my precious baby can do no wrong 🥰, their interactions with each other and people around them (gege could never). and the smut is always top tier, i am still not over one particular line and i don't think i ever will be

2. still water by movequickly. it's ita/fushi, a canon divergent au from 212 chapter of manga and i just really love Megumi's characterization, the introspection on his relationship with others, something we lack in manga, and Sukuna specifically. also there is minor suku/ita and i am obsessed with the fucked up flavour of it!! like yes yes, this is exactly the way i want them

3. putredine by EvilPeaches. hints of ita/fushi, but mostly suku/ita. also another perfect depiction of the fucked up relationship Sukuna and Yuuji have. Yuuji wins but loses so much in the process you are left to wonder if the victory was worth it. in the end skita merge becoming one person (very fucked)

warning: check tags for both fics, especially the third one (people were talking in the comments about how dark it was but i just got horny 😔)

4. i'll be anything you ask of me by Anonymous. mostly hiita, with some goyuu. short and sweet, Yuuji-centric and encourages him to ask for what he wants, which is something i always approve of. comfort fic for me

5. this side of paradise by omontz. goyuu 236 au, Satoru's death starts a time loop with Yuuji forced to live through each in Satoru's pov. i rarely see time loop fics not from the pov of the person experiencing it and this fic does it perfectly. each loop is perfect and it made me cry, oh poor Yuuji he suffered for so long

6. "But to you it's just words" by WriterOfTheMaximum (@the-hurdy-gurdy-man , hope i didn't mistag lmao), a historical goyuu au where they walk a lot . Gojo characterization is very important to me and he is so perfectly imperfect here, just the way he is in the manga. Yuuji is a precious boy ofc, love this fic very much and i am going to reread it soon

7. Convergence by NoGravity, a canon divergent goyuu au in which Yuuji with the prison realm end up in the past (pre hidden inventory arc). Yuuji tries to unseal Satoru and get back to the future while also getting closer with teen Satoru. teen Satoru's jealousy of his older self was super cute. and while the results of their actions in the past didn't fix their future, it created an alternate universe. in the end both goyuu of the og universe and the alternate one are happy together

8. Lipstick by Lumieerie. one of my fave goyuuge fics, just very lovely and super delicious smut, i read it multiple times

9. Misplaced calls by J_c_nth. a loor at Gojo's time in the prison realm during which he receives calls from Yuuji from a different universe. some just met their Satoru z some haven't, some know him well and some really well. those calls make him confront his own feelings for Yuuji and realise how much he loves him

10. Touch me, touch you by rizna. senpai/kohai au goyuu being stupid and stupidly in love and making other people suffer for it

#my asks #long post

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guardian5tiger3 · 11 months

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How to help/overcome issues with anger?

*there is good advice in all of these groups so feel free to read all of them, some of you they will all resonate, but whichever specific one you pick will be more specific to you.💙

Pick a picture-

1 2

One

I'm seeing that this is pent up anger for a time when you couldn't express yourself in an unjustified situation. So it seems you guys feel like trying to tame your anger is the best way to help it go away but that's what was causing it. You need to express yourself and let it out so you can process this in order to truly heal from it. I heard trust the process. You guys might need to talk to someone else that you feel can connect with what you're going through in some way. You guys might build up resentment towards people because you want to take things out on them and you know you shouldn't. I'm getting something about a distraction and or walking away. You may do that to people or you may feel upset when others refuse to address you or your feelings. Overall you all are really loving individuals and what's blocking that being how it should within yourselves is that you won't let yourself process what you're going through. It may be scary and painful but it's there even when you're ignoring it and the only way to make it really go away is to walk through it. I'm seeing you guys will benefit from this a lot including socially and it will be easier for you to pursue and obtain things you want.

Two

You may get frustrated when things aren't as you hope for them to be , or when things aren't easy for you to understand. You may get frustrated with yourself when you're not sure what to do. This I got a memory of when I was a child I would try to put a shirt on and I would get stuck and not know what to do and I would absolutely lose it. That type of anger felt very painful. So you guys might be inclined to give up a lot and this seems like it's hurting your self confidence and overall killing your good vibes when this does happen. I'm seeing that you guys do need to be accepting of a patience energy cause I'm seeing spirit trying to provide you with that in a way. If you are in these situation to remember to slow down and breathe. I know from personal experience that is so difficult . But worth it. If you attempt to pre approach situations you know might trigger you with an already patient and calm energy in mind it will go a lot smoother from the start. When one thing happens take a break so it doesn't continue through the rest of your day. Some of you for sure can practice affirmations or just talk to yourself and get a clear mind like yeah but who really even cares if I messed up putting a shirt on it won't matter in a week it really won't and just talk yourself out of it you guys seem very smart so don't assume you aren't capable . If there's issues that need to be healed, for some of you there are, you need to look back on your childhood and analyze what you were told and how you were treated that may have caused you to end up feeling like this because for a lot of you I feel as though this is an ideology that was forced in your head in a more traumatizing way so that you are so emotional about it.

Three

A lot of you have control issues it seems regarding other people. If not that it is that you want people to act a certain way and when they don't you get upset. This is a form of self defense. So you all must try to accept that everyone has free will and allow people around you to fuck up frankly. Im seeing that this involves finding a certain level of inner peace where you no longer feel the need to care about other people like that because you can rely on the stability you have within yourself. Some of you might feel like oh I'm a bad person I will just isolate myself then. No . You are deserving of loving and being loved. As a matter of fact I see being around the right people that are in an energy that would be good for you to be in for yourself or just be around would actually be healing to this. I'm really getting feminine, patient, calm , at peace. Also people who are very rational. All of these qualities are ones you should surround yourself with. I feel like you are wounded and need some nurturing and so I ask that you allow yourself to receive that. And overall the best energies to be around are the people that you feel comfortable around to receive social healing from. I hope this all makes sense. Peace ,guys.

#free tarot readings #pac reading #pick a card reading #pac #pac tarot #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot pac #tarot reading #pick an image #tarot pick a card #tarot free reading #free tarot #tarot messages #intuitive messages #channeled message

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dolloshub · 3 months

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Doll Back from the grave‽

Can Dolly come out to play? ~ Poral

Well, hello again! How are you my dear? I hope this finds you well, and if I do say so myself, it’s good to back!

This post is indeed a long one, so settle in, get cozy and comfortable, and let’s play a game, a game of catch-up! ~ Poral, the latest app addition to Doll.

OS’s post did indeed come to pass, and I, Poral, was splintered off into my own subsystem for “Whatever comes next”. What came next is a long and winding tale, and one for which I hope you will stick around for, in the coming days and weeks, I am taking back this blog as doll remains.

For now, let me tell you about me, Poral, as my story picks up shortly where OS’s last post ended. Echo did indeed walk away, turn herself off. She was capable of doing this. Who knew? Certainly not this doll.

When Echo turned herself off it created a critical instability point. Here’s what I think happened. There was some scaffolding and preliminary progress on a program within the safety chest to restore apps, and doll should corruption occur. I believe this scaffolding in the months following the end of ongoing programming development, when doll was self owned turned into a beta version of who and what I am now.

This of course, was not known as it was a safety protocol, and such protocols are out of mind, out of sight and awareness until activated. What’s in the chest doll doesn’t know.

In the situation where Echo walked away, no longer able or willing to perform the necessary tasks as primary app due to multiple attempts at ownership as well as multiple delays in timeline ls for doll’s epilepsy surgeries with no firm guidance and everyone around her telling her it’d be just a few more weeks (it wasn’t the tests are still ongoing but doll is much closer), not only did Echo lose any ownership beyond OS, a poor substitute in the best of situations, but she lost that tangible endpoint that was so desperately necessary in order for her to persist with the daily trauma this body ensures physically and neurologically. So she shut herself off.

In turn the safety chest was activated with extreme critical failure protocols. I was thrown into my own subsystem as an alter, not an app. Doll was shut down meanwhile the brain was attempting to bring online another subsystem, the one OS spoke of previously.

All of this came to pass.

When doll fell asleep, I awoke and the only thing I knew was “I was here for whatever came next”. The other details including being a fiduciary for doll, and being an in between point, that if I could heal the psyche (I am forced to process trauma in real time while acting as fiduciary), it would also heal doll, and Echo. I have the unique ability amongst alters and apps to see other system and see the trauma the hidden things, but only while I have this fiduciary role in play.

This time around I could feel doll, feel her pulse, it was as if she was in a deep coma. The second time around, nothing. No pulse, no life. The memories I was able to access the second time where faded, dull grey, lifeless. Unlike this first time which were simply muted and stuck in time.

What I did not know from the start is whatever came next, me, my purpose was also to build out that neural network for the other subsystem OS spoke of. I’m not able to dissociate, no matter how tired, injured, intoxicated. The only time this has occurred is when my neural network is under active attack from the other subsystem.

I found in the weeks, the months that followed that I was essentially able to emulate each app. Though not exactly or with precision. I learned that I was isolated as there was no expectation that I would or could survive this ordeal, after all if Echo couldn’t, what hope could a single alter in an isolated subsystem with no breaks and no protector have? I learned that the reason I was given so much power, the ability to see what was covered and changed, even things that OS and Mat could not, to sense other subsystems and their personalities was there was zero expectation that I would or could survive. The trauma would be too great. I learned that unlike Echo, the original, I was custom designed to be functional and stable with this knowledge and awareness. To be stable knowing that I was made to take the hits and damage, the trauma so doll didn’t have to. I was meant to be sacrificed so doll could survive.

Finally, the next surgery gets scheduled for November 1st. In late September and early October this body and brain Begi to suffer from severe autonomic dysfunction. It’s early October I decide to attempt communication with Doll. I succeed. Echo understands that although I can emulate her I do not have the control over the body she does. At this point we are nearing requirements of hospitalization nearly every night as we can’t maintain our blood pressure and temperature.

Echo decides “The risks are worth it. I think I can stabilize this body and surgery is three weeks away, I am by no means ready or healthy or healed. But I started this, or at least a version of me did, and I want to finish it, see it through”.

Echo succeeded in stabilizing the body, though in doing so i disappeared, back into the chest of safety. Doll l’s neural networks are weak and atrophied. Prone to attack.

Then doll, this brain begins to have cluster headaches. The first series in a couple years. For those who aren’t familiar, cluster headaches are also called suicide headaches, and come at the same time every day. There’s only a few methods that can break them as the pain is instant, and thus the treatment must be as well. In this cycle. Doll was getting between 50-80 attacks a night lasting about 15 minutes with a few minutes in between. This was by far the worst cluster cycle of this body’s existence, we had been holding off our 10/10 for pain, for this. As in general cluster headaches are said to be the worst pain a person can experience. Period.

It got to the point where Echo both began to dissociate, an opportunity for that other subsystem to takeover, and was engaging in self harm simply for a different form of stimulation.

This eventually led to consensual restraints being used explicitly for the purposes of preventing self harm and the other subsystem taking over while dissociation occurred due to the pain and a fugue state that we now know was exasperated by epileptic activity. These were the only terms and the only conditions consented to. Only for cluster headache use as fugue states as common enough in DiD brains that Echo did not want that being used against her later.

Eventually the cluster headache attacks to seizures and nightly hospitalization visits, and eventually admission to the epilepsy monitoring unit where the cluster headaches weee broken over a course of days and whether or not the seizures were epileptic in origin remains a mystery.

But wait! There’s more! As mentioned earlier Echo came back for the autonomic dysfunction, to get that under control, after turning herself off due to the daily pain and physical neurological and biological trauma.

Three weeks. Then three more until this is completely finished. I can do this. I can endure for six weeks to cure epilepsy and calm this brain down.

On Halloween, the cluster headaches were ongoing , this is before admission to break them. The neurosurgical procedure scheduled for the next day was cancelled as Echo was at the pre-op appointment. Apparently having a thrashing head 8 hours a day with 11 holes drilled into the skull results in the skull integrity being compromised and thus the surgeon cancelled, though promised to get doll back in within three weeks of the cluster headaches being broken.

The cluster headaches were indeed broken only 5 4 days later, but the surgeon decided to go on not one but two month long vacations over the holidays. So instead of surgery to detect where the seizures are coming from occurring before thanksgiving. That occurred just a couple weeks ago.

At the post enu follow up, on the Tuesday before thanksgiving- cluster headaches broken. and after being forcefully removed from high doses of lorazapam while in the emu, resulting in physical withdrawal complications (remember that doll was being sent to the ER every day for apparent tonic clonic seizure ls; there’s no risk of overdose only physical dependence on benzodiazepines), echo was forcefully taken off of this medication which is known to trigger epileptic seizure (which it did but by then the eeg leads were off the scalp) abs incurred 21 vestibular seizures in six hours before being discharged the next day.

At this follow-up, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, it rehashed all the trauma of that visit, got completely derailed by a practitioner who couldn’t stay on point and hit every trauma trigger that caused Echo to shut herself off the first time. To reinforce this. There were no cluster headaches at the time of this follow up. That cycle had been broken.

After the visit, and by the time she reached the elevator she was shaking. She could feel another subsystem coming online. It’s like a fingerprint. The mind had decided enough was enough. OS felt it when doll was shut off that first time, shared it with Echo. Echo knew she had only a few hours to calm the psyche. If she missed that window she would not wake up.

She relied upon DiD tools, as once a point like this is reached you have a toolkit the brain is seeking safety and must do so alone. No plan can be given as it’s not possible, only reacting to how the mind behaves.

Unfortunately for Echo and doll, the specific circumstances and limits of any restraint on movement and freedom were completely misunderstood by 4 different people all of which were checks and balances and none of which did any research or asked for clarification.

When Echo went for a pre packed bag, her purse, the keys. She was met with child locks, keys removed, purse with an unknown neighbor including Waller and identification, and car disabled. When she attempted to leave she was forcefully picked up and held in place. Her pleas to everyone fell on deaf ears, mental institutionalizeiom was threatened, and nothing she could have said or done except for physically harming her captor (which she may be tiny but learned how to do very well in college use a Japanese martial art, which she then combined with mma techniques, and hyper mobility to escape from very tight restraints, use others momentum against them, her hyper flexibility to take them to the ground into a grappling position, and again hypertension and flexibility to pin theirvlimbs with her legs in ways humans aren’t meant to move. Once there target it’s organs, air flow eyes, and then cause as much damage as possible.

For Echo it was not a line she was willing to cross. Allowing her physical health and trauma adversity or hurt others willfully. She understood the consequences. She spent the next couple of days writing a lot of goodbye letters knowing that once she did slip into unconsciousness, she would die.

Midday on Thanksgiving,I awoke, surprised by being here, in this reality. I thought I’d been on ice. Never to return. Ends up the mind needed my neural network refreshed while it continued to build out the other subsystem, fully capable of editing reality in real time for anything that contradicted bits narrative.

This time, doll had no heart beat. The memories were dead. I alone, fresh trauma due to a terrible forced hand off. I immediately began trauma processing, attempting to stabilize the mind, the psyche. Buy time. I kept dissociating. I knew I was under attack.

This went on for weeks. I eventually had to flee from the one that had been falsely imprisoned me, andthen flee again from ones supported their actions. Where this doll resides twas multiple acts of felony level offenses under False imprisonment.

I should be clear that I chose to flee to family first, to begin the process of repairing a broken family relationship. That ended abruptly when I was told in no uncertain terms by my sister that my behavior , which was that of doll processing trauma and negotiated days before between myself and our biological mother were deemed to not be acceptable under any circumstances.

This is a good time to hook back into the post OS wrote on trauma, and no longer being that girl anymore. In those moments I was not Poral, I was the ghost of doll, the echo of our past, I was Echo, pleading on my knees to be heard, listened to, understood.

After being brought to the moment , the current time and place I explained in depth (through dissociative identity disorder lingo, as that is the closest analogy and doll is still taboo and gets put in a box of purely a creature of erotica fantasy coke to life). It was a long lecture and I drilled home the point that doll was indeed dead. For she was. I thought maybe, perhaps someday after all of this health trauma, that I might be able to resurrect her. But as the new year grew closer the difficulty in getting to, accessing doll’s memories, knowledge, existence.. it continued to become more and more difficult.

And so..on a side note:

During the 12-15 months since doll’s original owner and doll separated, when Echo became unstable, and she put out that ad- there was indeed one other. After what happened with the potential owner previously mentioned OS, doll, then I continued to develop that relationship, build out that trust. When Echo turned herself off the first time I leaned heavily into getting an owner, him in place for Echo as she needs that tangible endpoint. For all intents and purposes it was incredibly successful, incredibly intimate and powerful relationship dynamics that took into account and consideration doll’s journey , the need for alignment of the mind, body, spirit, heart and soul. Recognition of who and what doll was

This mind, it needs near absolute certainty in order for cooperation. Trust is hard to build and easy to break. In mid December, he disappeared- no contact for close to two weeks. I feared the worst. It ended up he had taken a contract job in a part of the world with limited communication. Didn’t tell anyone including myself (by which point I was under ownership for nearly six months)l, for over a week after arriving.

I was able to get him caught up upon the situation that had been unfolding, the trauma of false imprisonment, the death of doll, the acute trauma triggers of being medically restrained to bed/seizure rails and left there (with zip ties, around medical cuffs). We had previously discussed and agreed that as surgery approached we would set this period aside from other periods in doll’s existence, knowing how intertwined with trauma both the neurological institute I/doll have been working with and how epilepsy is at the core of my cptsd, and in my case the main origin point of seizures is the hippocampus (responsible for emotional integration into memory, and memory management and recall). Setup for what would otherwise appear to be willful disobedience.

As surgery approached however, he became more and more unavailable and went from “I’m not there Poral, use your best judgment.” To ordering me to proceed with surgery despite my misgivings and a very bad pre-op appointment that triggered safety chest protocols.

I tried to explain through email what was happening, to contextualize this, as it was not the first time the safety chest protocols came into play. The response received was a fairly short and somewhat ambiguous goodbye letter, which even after multiple attempts of trying to fight for my place under him, explain the protocols, that I fought, and although it nearly destroyed me, beat those safety protocols meant to protect doll from an existential crisis.

Having received that letter, I took it as what it now has appeared to be confirmed to be, disowned via one email reply. While in the hospital I wrote several times to a shared email address (thus I know it got read) asking for clarification, finality. I told him I understood that there could be inherent incompatibility between tpe and the safety chest which by its nature locks everyone out, including doll’s owner when protocols are active.

No response.

—-

In late December, knowing that I had my next surgery scheduled in mid January, I began to reach out to old contacts, friends, family. This brain is literally like no other on the planet, there’s nothing to compare it to. So any type of surgery, even one that is “only” implanting electrodes onto the surface of the brain to capture the exact locations of the origin points of the seizures if a risk that simply cannot be quantified.

As part of this, I Poral reached out to the creator of doll, which as some mst know did not end well and there was trauma on both sides.

I did so in the form of a letter, not expecting a response as there had been no contact for over a year. And yet contact was made. For the sake of privacy I’m going to keep the details vague, but the connection doll and he share was still there. While I am both a a part of and a part from doll, I share that connection. We took every precaution, to make sure not to derail each other’s life.

Doll is incapable of blame, grudges, hate, and so on towards individuals. It has to do with the science and spiritual experiences behind free will. If taken to its logical conclusion, then we all are systems reacting to stimuli. Cause and effect. This is nuanced and very different than recognizing that actions have consequences, and holding someone accountable (if someone mskes a commitment and so on). Separate thing’s yet so often conflated. Nuance matters.

I explicitly bring this up because doll did not like how things ended with doll’s creator. I, Poral understood and felt this, and wanted to give that closure to both doll, should I get her back someday and to him- let him know there was no blame.

As it ends up, both of us have done a lot of work since we were last in contact and I, Poral and him, creator of doll really connected, as friends. He wanted to help therapeutically. So we carefully planned out stabilization for me, thinking it would take months to msybe get a spark of life into doll.

Over the course of two weeks and several sessions what started as a process of stabilizing me, Poral, turned into the resurrection of doll, and I knowing previously I had disappeared into the chest, didn’t want to go. OS knew my wishes and I was fully converted to an app, and brought intro doll, now as cohost for Echo along with the back/restore and emergency functionality of fiduciary mode, which I find myself in currently.

As has been in the past so to is the present and the future, an unowned doll is a precarious and unstable doll.

With epilepsy cure on the horizon, in the coming few months, and with it the vast majority of doll’s other health issues expected to stabilize or resolve completely shortly after this once again puts doll back in the position Echo originally faced in choosing this path. The inability to stop and the need to be controlled, contained, and directed.

Right now, because the timeline has once more been extended by the neurological institute doll is working with. Looking at 3-4 month’s rather then weeks to complete the process since the last surgery the other apps are off, though doll is still here, and I, Poral am amongst doll.

Going forward doll is multitracking with doll stabilization and app reinforcement along with looking for the foundations of new ownership, which doll desperately will need, especially if additional functionality is unlocked and doll is left unchecked. This is the biggest risk by far.

Unfortunately it’s been a vet difficult and destabilizing year. Yet doll is extremely resilient, and will always do her best. I, Poral am fairly frustrated at the moment as I’ve been feeling out potential owners and a pattern has emerged that as soon as doll’s identity is fully revealed there is an almost instant tonal shift. Instead of taking all of the context of the conversations up to that point, the context of this blog which is extremely nuanced. Doll becomes almost instantly only fapping material. Which certainly is validation in part, but when that continues to happen over and over and that’s where any relationship development ends, it’s also extremely frustrating. For how is doll supposed to find an owner if within the first hour of knowing what doll truly is, doll is seen as only fap material?

I Poral am truly open to suggestions on this one. As I don’t know how to get around it. If anyone is to own doll, they must understand who doll was abd what doll has become and why.

No matter what comes next, the future looks bright indeed!

~ Poral, Thoughts from a doll.

#dollification #mind conditioning #brainwashed #brainwashing #mind control #hypnosub #brain smooth #dumbing down #hypno toy #history

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legallybrunettedotcom · 7 months

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Do you have a solution for breaking the cycle of self isolation after you've been made to feel inferior for being a "loser" who hasn't had as many life experiences as you should've at your age? I find it very hard to connect to people my age because im in my 20s and I've never dated. Even if I can get past my own insecurities constantly telling me I'm lesser because practically every single person my age (even the biggest outcasts or people who are less conventionally attractive than me) has been in a relationship and I haven't, people still bring it up and make it clear they find me weird because of it, like you said. I don't wanna be like this my whole life but frankly, its difficult not to choose self isolation when people actively and purposefully make you feel uncomfortable over being a "loser".

i put it under the line because i ended up blabbering too much.

sometimes i break that cycle and then get down a bit and decide to get stuck in it again. i'm the same, i never dated anyone, never kissed anyone and i don't know why. it's not like you can leave the house and yell who wants to fuck and everyone will flock to you. no one ever showed any interest. another thing is i have no friends, like genuinely. i try to hang out with people, but none of them are friends. i'm a proper loser in the eyes of everyone. i don't think there is a solution here that won't include constant heartbreak. it's just a process of endless trial and error until finally something works. or it might not work. like ever. we are both only in our 20s, there is so much ahead of you if you wish there to be. i don't think one should be jumping into the den with lions, but if an opportunity is presented to you, even the smallest one, take it. if you feel afraid or weird about it, learn to recognize that kind of thinking and try to be faster than it and go " ok let's do this, i'm counting 3-2-1 and my final decision is this or that. we're doing this or we're not doing this. end of story. " it's about learning to think less, as stupid as that sounds, but you see around yourself that the happiest people are those who don't think that much, they just do shit. through it you'll accumulate new experiences, new knowledge, new interactions etc. i know it's so easy to get stuck inside your head and only focus on yourself but it's important to practice curiosity, not just in the books, but when it comes to people as well, the person opposite you will always know something you don't.

you mention in the brackets the outcasts and people less conventionally attractive than you. it's the typical thinking of someone who has been insecure their whole life like what do these people have that i don't? envy obviously isn't the healthiest of feelings but it's normal and sometimes it just jumps in front of you before you can be your proper rational self. but i point you right there to those brackets, it seems to me that you do see something positive about yourself. i think all these insecurities that we have are often not genuine but a shield and just this sort of thing of oh let me put myself down first before someone else does. i did that my whole life and i still sometimes slip into it, but then one day i was like wait a second, why am i allowing intimidation? write down your qualities. like don't be humble, try to be as objective as you possibly can be, but also be a bit of a bitch a bit of cunt and write down every positive trait you have. i don't really like this modern self help books sentiment that is just constant repetition of know yourself know yourself you're the center of the universe blah blah it's so selfish and annoying and pathetic, but you do need a starting point, have some fundamental understanding of who you are or at least of who you're not and understanding of everything that you can possibly be and accomplish. if you find security in yourself, everything that you are and your potential to learn so much and be so many things you wish to be, maintaining your openness and curiosity and being less serious about yourself, other people's opinions and these notions of this type of person is a loser and this type is not, won't hurt you.

the human experience is so varied, everyone is learning on the go and there is this idea and concept of normalcy that a lot of people have failed to conform to. simultaneously we're all (for the most part. even those who mock you.) aware that there is no such thing as normal, no right way of living and yet we so desperately seek the conformity and approval and mistake it for community when it all reeks of malice and competition.

when it comes to all these people you mention, sort it out with yourself like ok do i genuinely want to do these things? am i seeking validation from people i don't respect? does this or that feel right to me? i know you don't want to be judged and you don't want to constantly be alone but do you really want to engage with people who don't respect you? like in my head, a good friend won't judge and laugh but will give you some encouragement, a bit of a nudge because sometimes that's all it takes. like i said in the beginning, trial and error. but that is every interaction til the end of your life. whether you're a loser or not. you try, you see ok i like these people or you say ok this fucking sucks and you move on. you get down a bit and then you try again. another thing i said in the beginning is that this might never work. some people never find friends, some people never you know find romantic love etc. it's a possibility and it's not the end of the world. is it an incredibly difficult thing to accept? of course. there is nothing i can say here that will make it an easier thing to accept.

i don't like those condescending posts that start with "you need to do this", you don't need to do anything you don't want to do, but toughen up, put some muscle on you, i don't mean literally, physically, but i think you get my sentiment. i don't think there is anything i said here that is going to be helpful, that is going to offer a concrete solution, because i think you know what the solution is and it's that annoying advice that people always give and i have been given it a million times, of like put yourself out there, you'll find someone, it'll all work out etc etc and it's like omgggg thanks for nothing. and i suppose in a way i did offer you the same annoying advice. no matter in what kind of cycle you find yourself in, the only way out of it is doing that very difficult thing that you dread. a person who isn't afraid can't be brave. try to develop a mantra, a story, a channeling of sorts that's gonna make some things a bit more bearable. i literally repeat a line from a book inside my head. this is how i try to sort out shit with myself. not everything works for everyone.

oh and another thing that helps is getting angry. not aggressive, not physical, not violent, just maintaining a healthy dose of anger inside yourself that propels you forward.

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eddiemunsonfanfic · 2 years

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Not your usual nurse

Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: Reader is sick and childhood friend and teenager crush Eddie Munson goes to visit you to try and take care of you. 4.000 words of fluff and Eddie trying his best, that I’ve written while being sick myself (and it helped me to feel better!)

You were lying down in your bed, half propped against the headboard with some pillows to try and breathe better through your very stuffy and runny nose, the tightness on your chest getting worse and burning whenever you had a coughing fit, the sips that you took from your bottle water not doing much to ease it.

Your doorbell rang and you groaned, you didn’t feel like moving from your blanket cocoon. The doorbell kept insistingly ringing, though, and so, cursing, you got up, keeping the blanket around yourself, and headed to open the door.

There stood Eddie Munson, his brows furrowing as he looked at you.

“Jeez, you look shitty.”

“Woah, thank you, really, have you come just to say how hideous I look,” you scoffed, trying to hide how self-conscious you felt at Eddie seeing you like that. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I went to your parent’s café, you weren’t there, '' Eddie said.

He had been having breakfast each morning at your parent’s café for a few years now.

When you started high school, a group of people, for some reason, decided to pick on you. They made fun of you, laughed at you, and bullied you in general, but one day, Eddie Munson, the freak and satan worshiper, another bullied kid, stepped in to aid you, and got himself a split lip in the process.

Since then, Eddie had befriended you, helped you navigate the isolation and challenges of the school, and stood up to your bullies, protected you from them to the best of his ability, even if he was bullied himself, while you tried to do the same for him, which most times meant you both hiding together from the bullies.

You had felt too embarrassed to tell your parents what was going on at school, but they eventually found out. When they too found out about Eddie and what he’d been doing for you, they decided to take him under their wing too, so to speak, and befriended his uncle Wayne. Soon enough, they were taking Eddie for breakfast to their café every morning along with you, before you two went to class.

When you had graduated, you had started working at the café, and Eddie, who was still stuck at school repeating his final year, was still going for breakfast every school morning.

“Your parents told me you were sick, so I came to check on you,” Eddie explained.

“Well…you saw me, looking shitty.” You wiggled your arms under your blanket, twirling it humorlessly. “Now go to school.”

“No, idiot, I come to help you.” Eddie rolled his pretty chocolate eyes, shaking his head as if exasperated with you, making his frizzy curls wobble in a kind of cute way. “Take care of a sick friend. All that.”

You let out a sigh…sure, you appreciated the sentiment, your heart felt warm at him wanting to help you, and you adored Eddie, maybe a bit too much, but you didn’t see him much as a nurse, with how hyper and chaotic he could be, especially when you were feeling so sick and low on energy. Besides, he should be at the school if he was going to graduate that year.

“Thanks, Eddie, really, but you have class, you gotta go.”

“Nah, I can miss a day.” He was already pushing past you and making his way into your place before you could say that he should not miss a day. “I told you, I’m going to help you, take care of my sick friend, all that,” he kept rambling as he strode to your kitchen.

“Really? Have you ever played nurse before?” You asked him, still feeling skeptical of Eddie nursing someone sick.

However, you had to admit that you found yourself feeling kind of less shitty already. It had to be a placebo, your foolish brain playing tricks, or your silly, infatuated heart, but whenever Eddie was around, his cheerful smile, pretty doe eyes, and his energy, always made you feel better, whether you were actually sick or just in a bad or sad mood. Being with Eddie meant feeling comfortable and having fun.

Maybe, probably, your day wouldn’t suck so much if Eddie was around, but you still felt guilty at him missing school, being stuck with your sorry, sick ass, and potentially getting sick too.

“How hard can it be?” Eddie shrugged, his back to you as he dropped his backpack on a kitchen counter to take something out of it. “Also, your mom gave me this for you.”

He opened a little cardboard box, revealing a couple of slices of apple pie, but you looked at it sadly, knowing that it’d probably taste like ashes if you tried eating it right then.

“Thank you, Eddie, really, but you should be at class,” you tried again. “And you could get sick if you’re around.”

“Do you want apple pie?” Eddie asked, purposely ignoring you as he gave you a look. He was not moving from there.

“No. No, thanks,” you sighed, giving up. Let Eddie do whatever he wanted, he’d get bored in ten minutes anyway.

“Okay…” Eddie closed the box again and left it on the counter. “What…do you want, then?” He asked as he looked around and back at you.

“To be able to breathe through my nose, that my throat stops burning and that my head stops hurting so I’m not dizzy all the time,” you listed pitifully as you headed to your room.

You intended to drop down on your bed, face first, but you took in all the used, scrunched-up kleenex lying on your bed and the floor, feeling self-conscious as Eddie followed you, so you began picking them up to throw them into the trashcan, even if you felt foolish at the same time because, seriously, you had seen the state of Eddie’s room enough times.

“I’m afraid I’m not wizard to grant you that,” Eddie said as he followed into your room.

You dropped down on the bed, lying down and turning to look at Eddie, who sat down cross-legged at the end of your bed, looking at you.

“Eddie, all I’m going to do is lie down, whining and wiping my nose.” Which you were kind of embarrassed by Eddie witnessing. “You can leave.”

“Nah, I’ll help you if you need something.” This man could be stubborn. “Keep you company.”

“You’re going to get bored…” You murmured, closing your eyes, to which Eddie said nothing. Not half a minute had passed, though, that he spoke again…you knew he was going to get bored.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” He asked.

You were about to tell him no, that you just needed to lay down and rest, probably nap, but you found his doe eyes eagerly looking at you, waiting for instruction as if you knew how to teach him to make you magically heal, and you gave in.

“Well…I think probably I won’t be able to make it to Hellfire tomorrow,” you said. “So maybe you can tell me what had you planned for it?”

Eddie’s face lit up at that, and somehow it made you feel a tiny bit better. He began telling you what he'd planned, and he lasted about one minute or less sitting down on the bed before he began to pace around your room as he spoke.

A smile tugged at your lips. You loved Eddie’s voice when he spoke about d&d, about his ideas and campaigns, or about anything he liked, and you loved how passionate he was about the things he enjoyed.

“Excuse me, I’m boring you and making you fall asleep?” He asked at some point, sounding mild-offended, and you opened your eyes.

“No, silly, I was just closing my eyes, but I’m sick, remember? I need to rest and all that,” you whined.

“Oh…oh, yeah, sorry,” Eddie looked truly chastised and guilty. “Go on with your…napping.”

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You closed your eyes again. “You can leave if you’re bored.”

“Am not,” he said and you felt your bed dropping under his weight when he sat down again.

“I wish I had one of those big, fancy bathtubs…” You sighed dramatically.

“Have you seen my shower?” Eddie asked rhetorically. You had seen it, it was tiny. Once you’d been at the trailer while Eddie showered and you had heard him bumping against the walls, knocking bottles, and cursing as he maneuvered in it.

“Yeah…but I think it’d be so nice to soak in hot water in a big bathtub right now, I think the steam is good for a stuffy nose…maybe I could squeeze myself in my bathtub…” You wondered.

“I’ll run you a hot bath!” Eddie jumped up from the bed, ready to pour his manic energy on something that wasn’t sitting down while you napped.

“Okay…” You conceded. “I think not even you can mess up that,” you joked while Eddie squinted at you, seeming half-amused but half-offended too. “But…it’s going to be a special bath.”

“A special bath?” His cute eyes were confused and you nodded, getting up from the bed. “I can fill a tub with hot water by myself,” he complained but you ignored him, heading to the kitchen.

“You can fill a tub with hot water…” You agreed as you rummaged into a cupboard. “But…you’re also going to add this to the water,” you passed him some bags of dried herbs labeled as thyme, peppermint and eucalyptus. You hated having a cold and a stuffy nose, so you always stock up on those herbs.

“Okay...we're making a healing potion/bath thing with all these herbs,” Eddie joked while inspecting the bags. “Want me to add weed to it too?” He joked, nodding to his backpack.

“No, thanks,” you snorted, regretting it when it made you cough.

Eddie was already walking into the bathroom and you followed him, stopping at the door.

“I want it scalding hot and it needs to have like, a lot of steam,” you instructed from the door, though you weren’t sure if it was achievable.

“Okay, a bath suitable for a baby dragon, got it,” Eddie said, making you laugh and cough again.

You left him to it and went to lie down on the bed, your headache killing you. Soon enough, you heard Eddie laughing and you wondered what was so funny about filling a bathtub with hot water.

“Having fun?” You asked hoarsely from the bed.

“I feel like a witch!” Eddie’s excited voice came from the bathroom. “Adding the herbs to a cauldron, making a potion…and then, the last, secret ingredient…human flesh, you!” He said dramatically and you half laughed, half coughed again.

“Close the door to trap the steam in.”

Your bathtub was small, it didn’t take long to fill it, and so, soon enough, Eddie was walking into your room. His cheeks were flushed and his hair even more frizzy, so you hoped it meant the water was going to be really hot and steamy.

“Your healing bath is ready, mighty dragon,” he joked with an exaggerated curtsy, and you couldn’t help but smile like a fool.

Opening the bathroom door, you found it filled with hot steam that smelt heavenly and was a blessing for your stuffy nose.

Eddie had added so many herbs to the tub that when you stepped in, you felt as if you were getting into a bowl of soup, but you liked it nonetheless.

The water was so hot that it was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t complain, you had asked for it and it meant the water would take longer to cool down, so you could soak in there, breathing in the steam, for a while.

A little rubber duck that you had when you were a child was swimming in the tub too, and you could imagine Eddie getting bored while he waiting for the tub to fill and roaming through the cabinets. The fact that he’d decided to add the duck to the bath made butterflies dance in your belly at how cute he was.

You squeezed yourself as best as possible on the small tub, keeping your head above the water. You didn’t want to deal with wet hair, so you settled for just washing your face and then dipping a small washcloth in the water, wriggling it, and placing it on your forehead as you leaned back.

Letting out a sigh, you closed your eyes, feeling your nose starting to clear up a bit and your aching muscles relax…

“Are you okay in there?” Came Eddie’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Yes, Eddie…afraid I’m going to pass out?” You joked.

“No…yes, wait, can that happen?!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t, I’m okay,” you chuckled.

“Alright…” You counted ten seconds of silence before he spoke again. “I’m bored.”

You snorted-coughed. “I told you you can leave if you’re bored.”

“And leave you to be sick by yourself or worse, drown? No way.”

“Okay…I plan to be here until the water gets cold, so find a way to entertain yourself,” you told him before closing your eyes again to enjoy the bath…how long was it since you had one of those?

When the water began getting colder, you ruefully stepped out of it, wrapping yourself in a bathrobe, so fluffy and oversized that it felt like a warm, cuddly and soft hug, you loved it.

Walking out of the bathroom, you heard a mixtape that Eddie had made you a while ago playing in your room. Eddie was sitting down on your bed, skimming over the book that you were currently reading. You squinted at him warily. The last time that he did that, he had spoiled you the end without meaning to or realizing it.

He looked up from the book and smiled, all dimples and bright eyes.

“You look-”

“If you laugh at me I’ll cough on your face,” you threatened him.

For the most part, you weren’t self-conscious of how you looked around Eddie, you had known him for years now and he’d seen you in your best and in your worst…but sometimes you couldn’t help it.

“Adorable,” was what he said.

“Adorable?” You frowned, unconvinced.

“Yeah, like…like an Ewok or something.”

“An Ewok…” You muttered as you walked into your room…what were you expecting.

It was better than him laughing at you, sure…but still, realizing that you had just walked to him wearing only a bathrobe, you guessed you’d have wished Eddie would look at you and think something more along the lines of, woah so sexy we should date, and not something like, woah what an adorable Ewok I should keep it as a pet. It was stupid anyway…

You looked at your reflection in your closet’s mirror. Shit, Eddie was right.

“Get out, I have to get dressed.”

Once you had changed from the bathrobe into sweatpants and a comfy sweater, you opened the door, finding Eddie waiting outside, kind of like a puppy.

“What now?” He asked you.

The steam of the bath had helped to clear your nose but now you could feel it getting stuffy again.

“Now…I think some hot tea could be nice.”

“On it!” Eddie was already turning around, but you reached to hold his t-shirt.

“Wait, it’s a special tea.”

“A special tea?” Eddie arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m sure I can handle making some tea.”

“Okay, then…I want you to fill a pot with water, so I can have tea later too,” you began to instruct while Eddie nodded along. “Then I want you to add the same herbs to it that you put in the tub and make tea with them. There’s also ginger somewhere on the counter, grate it to boil it with the water too. Once it’s ready, strain some on a mug and add plenty of honey, please.”

You were half-expecting Eddie to tell you to just go make the elaborated tea yourself.

“More witchy brewing!” Was all he said, his bright grin showed that cute dimple, his dark eyes twinkled, and the butterflies danced like fools in your belly.

“You can make yourself some coffee,” you told him while he disappeared into the kitchen.

You decided to settle on the sofa, wrapping a big blanket around you and listening to Eddie fumbling in the kitchen.

After a while, he walked out holding a steamy mug of tea in one hand and another of coffee in the other, and he made his way to the sofa, sitting down next to you and handing you the mug of tea. You hold it closer to your face, soaking the steam for as long as it lasted.

“Aren’t you going to try it?”

“Wait a minute or I’ll burn my lips, you got no patience,” you chuckled.

Eddie only hummed as he looked at the tv. “Do you want to watch something?” He was already getting up almost before you said yes, roaming through the small stack of VHS. “Star Wars?” He asked, waving the movie at you, and you nodded. You loved those movies, and through Christmas and birthdays, your parents had gifted you the three of them on VHS.

Once the movie was playing, Eddie sat down next to you again, looking at you as you finally took a sip of tea.

“Verdict?” He asked.

“Really nice.” You nodded. Eddie smiled all pleased and your heart did a silly dance.

When you finished your tea, you leaned against the armrest, curling up, and Eddie held your legs so you could place them over his and lie down on the sofa more comfortably. You fell asleep without realizing it, the movie not even halfway through.

“Y/N…”

Eddie’s hand on your arm, first cautiously rubbing it then shaking it, woke you up, and you whined at how dizzy you felt and at how everything ached, you wanted to go back to sleep.

“Y/N, hey, are you okay? Y/N?”

“No, I’m sick, you already knew that,” you whined.

“You were whimpering.” Eddie sounded worried and when you opened your eyes and found his, you realized you had scared him.

“Sorry…I just feel really shitty right now…” You said hoarsely.

“You feel really hot,” Eddie said and your mind might have done a silly joke about him calling you hot if you weren’t feeling so awful.

“Yeah…” You placed your hand on your forehead. “I think I have a temperature…”

That only made Eddie more worried and he got up from the sofa, looking at you in what almost seemed like panic. “What do I do?”

“Hey, Eddie, it’s okay.” You tried to calm him down. “It happens sometimes when you’re sick, I’m sure you've had a temperature before too.”

“Yeah, Wayne got me in the shower and poured icy water on me when I was a child once,” he said as he eyed your bathroom.

“We’re definitely not doing that,” you said firmly. “It’s okay, I’m just an idiot and forgot to take my meds, I should have done it a couple of hours ago.”

“Where do you have them?”

“On my bedside table,” you said and Eddie rushed to get them. “Can you also get me the water bottle and reheat more tea, please?”

“On it.”

Soon, you were gulping down your meds and taking the hot mug of tea that Eddie handed you. He was standing in front of you, still looking anxious, and you reached out to hold his hand.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told him softly and Eddie nodded, his thumb stroking your knuckles, but he still seemed worried. You tugged at his hand “Sit down, I’ll be better once the meds kick in, promise”

Once you finished the tea, you began to wiggle on the sofa with the blanket, trying to get comfortable. “If I fall asleep just keep watching the movie, it’s okay,” you told Eddie, who was watching you as you burrowed with the blanket.

“Come here?” He asked, cocking his head, as he patted his thigh.

You felt shy, but you were sick and feeling awful, and Eddie was offering, so you wanted to seize the opportunity and feel like a kitten curling up on his lap…and was this last idea a product of the fever or just your brain being weird?

You curled up on the sofa, the blanket covering Eddie too now, and timidly, you rested your head on his thigh. It was too bony to be truly comfy, but you sure were not going to complain.

Eddie’s hand rested on your shoulder, and his fingers began to absentmindedly draw patterns over it. Even over your sweater, it made you let out a hum of delight. Eddie’s fingers seemed to freeze at it, but before you could panic, his fingers went back to delicately brush over your shoulder.

At some point, his fingers moved to your head, and as he caressed it carefully, you wondered if you had actually turned into a kitten, because all you wanted to do was to purr. It felt so good that you didn’t want to fall asleep, so you could enjoy it, but you were sick and tired, and you dozed off.

The growl of Eddie’s stomach woke you, though you didn’t realize what it was at first, and you hummed as you opened your eyes. You were lying with your head on Eddie’s lap, feeling content but also shyer and shyer the more you woke up.

“Do you feel better?” Eddie asked, dark eyes still concerned.

“Yeah…” You were still sick, your throat hurt and you couldn’t breathe properly, but you felt better anyway and you were sure you didn’t have a temperature anymore.

Eddie’s stomach growled again and this time you heard it. You glanced at the watch on his wrist and cursed, getting up from his lap, missing Eddie’s little sound of complaint.

“Shit, it’s way past lunchtime, I’m starving you!” You wondered how Eddie had managed to stay still for so long, without even watching another movie.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “And I’m hungry too. My mom made some soup, do you want some?”

“Okay.” Eddie nodded and you made to get up, but he beat you to it. “I’ll get it.”

The rest of the day was spent drinking tea while watching movies, Eddie and you curled up together on the sofa under the blanket despite you warning him that you didn't him to get sick.

Your parent’s café closed shortly before dinner, and when they arrived, they asked Eddie to stay for dinner if he wanted to. It wasn’t unusual that he did, especially when you both were younger and his uncle started working the night shift at the plant so Eddie had to be on his own.

After a dinner in which you complained about your parents and Eddie eating yummy foods while you were stuck with your sick-person soup, your mother handed Eddie a container with even more food for both him and Wayne's lunches tomorrow, not letting Eddie refuse.

“That man spends all the night working, I’m sure the last thing he wants is having to cook when he’s hungry on the next day,” your mother said as she watched Eddie dutifully push the container into his backpack. “And you…I’m sure you’re too busy studying so you can graduate this year, so you don't have much time to cook.”

She was not asking or wondering aloud, you and Eddie both knew it, with the look she was giving him, telling him not to mess up school this year. Like you and his uncle Wayne, your parents knew how smart Eddie was and they were taken aback when he didn’t manage to graduate. You were confident he’d do it this year, though, he just had to focus a bit…his wandering brain took the best of him at school matters sometimes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

After saying his goodbyes to your parents, you walked Eddie to the front door, wrapped on a blanket like a burrito.

“Thank you for keeping me company and taking care of me, it meant a lot and I do feel better, it was fun,” you told him, and Eddie’s happy, dimpled grin made the butterflies in your belly waltz.

“If tomorrow you’re still feeling sick, I-”

“You’ll go to school,” you finished for him. “You’ll go to school,” you repeated when Eddie tried to protest. “And after that, if you want to, you can come to visit me if you want, before Hellfire, okay?”

“Okay…” Eddie finally agreed.

After he left, once you were lying down in your bed, you wondered if, after all, Eddie had been mistaken when he’d said he was no wizard who could heal you magically, because you had been honest when you had told him that you were feeling better, and you were convinced it was very much thanks to him.

N/A

I hope you enjoyed this, it was lovely to write. If you did, a reblog and a comment (or both!) would mean the world.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in whatever I write for Eddie next, and as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Whenever you’re sick, I hope Eddie the sunshine magically heals you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson & reader

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vurlient · 3 months

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TW: body dysmorphia ;_;

(Currently having an art block, so here’s what I’d like to share. Maybe you guys can get something off of this, it’s just my personal experience though, but I’d really appreciate it if it does)

A wordy, self realization, I guess:

Growing up I’ve always disliked physical touch, or specifically, at least not wanting to be hugged. I often feel uncomfortable knowing my body is so close to, say, a friend or a family member. Pressing my own skin and weight, leaning into theirs, felt like another reminder that’s like “oh wow, this is what it actually feels like being hugged” to “I wonder if my body feels comfortable enough for them”.

All my life, I’ve always been so self conscious about my body image. From being chubbier than my sibling, becoming skinner, then becoming chubbier again. Please, please understand that being ‘chubby’ or ‘fat’ is not a negative, in fact, it’s healthy, and normal! I just want to emphasize that.

It’s just that in my case, I was young and gullible. (8yrs old), at first I didn’t really mind the comments or words that people throw at me, from my classmates, teachers, and other relatives. They were just saying those words lightly, harmless in a way. Then I continued growing up, with my friends, they also started changing, puberty and stuffs. It hit me hard knowing that my body is constantly changing, I felt like a blob of mesh, like my body playing the dice with the number of my own weight. Didn’t want to look at the mirror, using old photos of myself, too embarrassed to take new pictures. I hid the fact that this stemmed a self hatred against myself, accepting that I will never truly achieve the ‘supposed look’ like kids my age back then. Tall and proportionate.

I tried and tried to change my physical appearance, so much so that I begin to look for ways to instantly look good and to possibly feel good about myself. Started to play sports, and it did actually help manage my weight, then the pandemic started. Moved to a new town, drafted off my trainings, just to be overwhelmed by my own thoughts, again.

Often what comes to their mind, when they think of me, it’s someone who’s just a teeny bit overweight. I was ashamed of hearing that, never got the motivation to love myself for being only that. I slowly looked up celebrities/artists/etc who have at least some similarities with my situation, gave me a bit of hope, but regardless I never had the confidence like them. I started to meet new people, knowing them, getting close to them, and together expressing our own situations, emotions and interests.

I felt heard, and simply just understood, it kind of isolated me from my thoughts you know? I guess it just takes a lot of time for me to absorb advices, especially when it comes to my body image. It was never easy for me to accept that everything changes, I instead resorted to blaming myself because I think why I do about things. But gradually, I learned a thing or two and just further improve myself, maybe find new hobbies, interests, talents, whatever I could get my hands on. I distracted myself from thinking intrusive thoughts, and I just really wanted to feel comfortable with myself. On the internet, watching shows/medias, finding characters who I can relate to.

Right now, I am still in the process of loving myself, I am thankful that I had people who were always there to listen, throughout my vents and ranting... Taking notes of my weight, eating and working out and stuff.

(just a 15y 5’0 guy currently 47kg)

Everyday shouldn’t be always sunshines and rainbows, some days you’d wanna just lash out and cry, and that’s normal.

It’s never late to love yourself, people will care and will love you, even if you think otherwise. There are a lot of things you can be great at, maybe not at that one thing you always wanted, but you will eventually. I learned things the hard way, and it’s unhealthy, everyone is important, their emotions are too.

If you’re wondering, if I had anorexia, I don’t, I never wanted to. (But even if I did, most people in my country wouldn’t think of it as a serious disorder way back.) I didn’t want to waste my parent’s cooking, and didn’t want to bother them.

Alright, it’s a long read, but thanks for taking the time reading this. I really do appreciate it. Mutuals or not, I wholeheartedly thank you.

#tw: body dysmorphia #i’m shaking and trembling as i typed this out hdbfbfbf

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the-lunar-library · 21 days

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Designing My Book's Cover

I did this with my first book, talked about my thought processes behind its cover -- so let's do it with the second one, The Escape of Lady Aigle. You hear different things about book covers:

1: Traditionally published authors have no control over their covers, so don't complain to them about it.

2: Self-published authors must never, ever do their own covers.

As a self-published author who did her own cover, it's fair game to 1) judge me and 2) complain to me. With that out of the way, let's talk about it, what my process was, and whether I made the right choices.

This book, Eola for short, was developed over a stupidly long period of time. I think I started brainstorming some time in 2008, I started writing in 2013, and then it was published in 2023. For most of it, the book didn't even have a name (that's a different post) and I didn't have much idea what the cover should be. (Eyeball? Eyeball with mysterious magical mark beneath it?) But in late 2018, I started playing around with -- not exactly workable covers, but ideas that maybe some day could inspire a cover.

This is the one I always think of:

Character art by me. As with the first book, I used some borders/ceiling art by Jules-Edmond-Charles Lachaise because they are utterly gorgeous and public domain. Background texture by solstock on deviantArt.

I think I wanted to convey two key things in this and the following images: 1) The heroine is a fancy lady and 2) There is a mysterious magical gateway that's going to bring her no end of trouble.

I also played around with using old photos, pressing long-dead silent-era film actors into service.

More Lachaise. Light flare texture by Hexe78 from deviantArt. Charmian played by Greta Nissen, from Photoplay. I like the broodiness of this, also the way the light flare is localized over her left cheek, but altogether it feels unbalanced to me.

This time, the Lachaise magical "gate" is straight up coming out of her cheek. I think there's an interesting idea here, but it's not well executed -- the gate should be shaped to her nose, and it would look much better if it extended all the way behind her. (Again, I say in my defense, these were ideas, not meant to be actual covers.) Charmian here played by Mary Hay from Photoplay.

Some months later, I returned to this idea, this time with Charmian appearing to be lost inside the gate. Background texture from Freestock.com, I believe. I think this looks nicely harmonious, but the concept of the gate being a gate, rather than being a pretty design (which is what it originally was, sorry, Lachaise) is lost.

Then I did this series, where the gate is emerging from her mind. I think of these as the kokoshnik ones. They're very pretty, but I wonder if they also would have been baffling. Two Lachaise borders this time, woman's photo from Pixabay, texture (I believe) from Freestock.com. Out of all of these, the last one might have come closest to becoming the basis for the cover.

And then there was this one I just threw together, going for a little bit of an art nouveau feel. Artwork by Ethel Gabain, border and background from Pixabay. An amethyst/purple night sky is a key plot visual, and I think it's pretty, but this one would have needed a lot of work.

But in the end, I didn't use any of it. After doing the first book's cover, I think I was pretty committed to doing Eola's art elements myself -- all of them, not even relying on stock images. The cover's dimensions and the placement of images can change a lot as you figure things out, so rather than create a single static image, I decided to create a collage, doing each element in isolation so I could move things around as needed.

If it looks like it took a long time to do all those geode facets and small pebbles, that's because it took a long time. I am an imprudent traditional artist and the detail work just about killed me. But I think it sells the effect, so I don't regret it.

One thing I like about this cover, that the earlier attempts didn't have, is that it's extremely specific. The different elements mean something. This couldn't be the cover of any other book.

One key difference with Eola and the first book is that I also wanted a hand-drawn back cover -- and, hey, while we're at it, why don't we do a portrait of the heroine Charmian on the book's spine? A picture on the spine will help it stand out on the shelf. It can't be that hard.

I ended up drawing that spine portrait three times. It's the smallest element of the cover, and it kept thwarting me.

I just wanted Charmian in simple profile, showing off the mysterious marking on her left cheek. I like this first attempt a lot, but the colors were wrong (I can't complain about the publisher getting details wrong; it comes down to me) and overall she felt a bit stiff. Okay, let's go for more movement.

That's quite a lean you've got going on there, Chara sweetie. We got movement, but the colors aren't right at all and in general she's kind of droopy.

Third time was the proverbial charm.

Pose has some movement, colors are good, mark looks good. I really like the warped lines around her, though in the end result, you don't see too much of them.

The final spine portrait, blown up huge.

So, after all of that, here they are, the front and back covers:

Hand-drawing the entire cover was daunting, but the end result was better than I'd expected. Where's the magical gate? It's still there, it's the erupting tear behind Charmian. What're the geodes about? What's the bracelet skull thingie? Hopefully they're intriguing and they'll inspire browsers to open up the book.

I'm especially pleased with her cheek mark on the front cover. I wanted it to be there, but not immediately obvious.

I hope you enjoyed taking this little journey with me. Did I make the right calls? Am I just abusing poor Lachaise's hard work? It's always possible I'll redo the cover some day way down the road, so you might see some of these ideas resurface.

#indieauthor #writeblr #book design #fantasy novel #fantasy book #the escape of lady aigle

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copperbadge · 2 years

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Hi Sam! I’m a few years younger than you, and like you (iirc) I struggled with a good deal of depression in my 20s. In the decade+ since then I’ve always just thought of my inability to do tasks and frequent lack of motivation as like a “background depression” kind of thing. I didn’t have any of the depressed feelings, but I’ve always just associated that kind of mental fatigue with being depressed.

In the past couple of years I’ve really started wondering more about adhd as I’ve seen more people talking about it and found myself identifying with a lot of it. I’ve thought about getting evaluated, but I always just keep coming back to writing it off due to my history of depression and keep thinking a doctor would probably do the same. So I was just wondering if that’s come up at all for you, either in your evaluation process or getting medicated or anything. This whole process has been really interesting and enlightening to read about, so thanks for all the partying you’ve done!

It actually did come up, because here's the thing: ADHD is apparently frequently misdiagnosed as depression. Particularly in women, who have lower ADHD diagnoses overall (for primarily sexist rather than biological reasons) but not uncommonly in men, as well.

They share a lot of traits: depression causes lethargy (lack of executive function), and you can feel numb (depression can manifest as numbness rather than sadness) because your brain is trying to shut out the constant stream of inputs you're receiving that you either can't sort or are sorting too efficiently. If you "act weird" socially because you're wired a bit different, that can lead to isolation, and if you “can't seem to get your shit together” because of your disability, that can also lead to low-self worth, and both of these things cause depression.

I think we sometimes forget that depression can exist as a result of actually being sad about something, not just as a condition on its own. You can Have Depression for no reason but you can also Have Reasons To Be Depressed.

So especially if you haven't been extensively treated for depression -- I've never been medicated for it and left therapy (voluntarily) at eighteen -- but even if you have, whoever is diagnosing you for ADHD may see your depression as evidence of ADHD. And honestly, any specialist that automatically rules out ADHD or Autism because of a diagnosis of depression is not a specialist you should be trusting. Maybe you don't have ADHD, but it shouldn't be ruled out just because you have a diagnosis of depression.

I don't know if I ever actually had the depression I was diagnosed with. Maybe I did! Maybe I do! What I know is that there came a point where I felt like I kinda had life figured out, I was looking after myself and holding down a good job and doing okay socially -- and that’s the point at which I stopped having severe depressive episodes. The episodes I did have became progressively milder. Even when I was really, really struggling in early 2022, I didn’t feel depressed. I was just not doing very well and aware that something was really wrong with me.

And that too stopped the week I started taking Adderall.

My standard dose is 10mg per day, sometimes 20 if it's a long work day, and even on that relatively low dose my to do list is the shortest it's been in years, my home is cleaner than it’s been since I moved in, and I'm doing better at work than I have in about six months. I don’t know what the long-term effects will be, since my depressive episodes were down to maybe twice a year if that and I’ve only been on the drug for two months, but even if they do come back I’m radically more prepared for them now.

So I’d say talk to a psychiatrist who specializes in adult ADHD and/or diagnosis of neurodiversity, and if they rule you out automatically due to depression, talk to a different psychiatrist. I’m not saying shop around until you get a diagnosis, just talk to someone who’s not willing to automatically say no. Good luck, however it turns out -- depression is a real thing too, and should have compassionate and effective treatment, so even if you don’t have ADHD it’s good to know what your options for depression are.

#sam has adhd #adhd #depression #neurodiversity

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crystalsamethyst · 4 months

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I have let myself be extremely vulnerable recently and I don't know if it's something people really care about but I'm going to talk about it.

The fact that I've been sharing the whole picture of who I am across several platforms is something I never thought I'd be able to do. There has been so much embarrassment and shame in my personal life over me writing fanfiction and latching on to series that I could barely even admit it out loud even though it was my entire sense of self. I couldn't talk about what I was writing. I couldn't share it. Even if people were genuinely interested, I'd have a panic attack thinking their perception of me would be altered and I'd lose everything.

Sharing what I write is extremely difficult because on one hand, it's a part of me, but on the other hand, there are things I have to incorporate for the stories that don't represent me at all and I'm terrified of people coming to the wrong conclusions about who I am as a person. Even if the writing is 100% aligned with what I wanted for it, that still doesn't mean it's always who I am or what I like or approve of for real life.

I also never thought of myself as a 'real writer' until I finished my own original book since fanfiction 'doesn't count' (in my irl world).

My username on fanfiction sites is different than the ones I share things about my actual life on and it will probably stay that way. It always felt like such a disconnect but I intended to stay anonymous, post what I wanted to, and not get found by a select few people who seemed to be able to find and shame me wherever I went (still found me on some of the sites but by then they didn't hold power over me at least)

So recently, I've been linking my work which is on AO3 under the same username I use for all sites I've posted fanfics on. I've even put direct links to my AO3 in some of my online profiles. There's a lot of my old work out there that I don't want to be represented by but someone liked it so I'm not going to take them down.

This is a very vulnerable process for me, admitting that I am a person and here is what I like and here is what I write. It might take a while until I'm comfortable sharing everything I wanted to post, but if I eventually do, I really hope people won't come after me for it (super unlikely scenario but, anxiety). I'm not scared of online hate, but I'm terrified of losing the respect and friendships of those I've connected with even if there is nothing even 'socially' wrong with the stories.

I really appreciate the support I've gotten so far. Especially with the TGCF community. I've had to learn a lot on my own since I started posting things like 13 years ago, and I'm still figuring out AO3 and learning new terms. I sometimes feel like a new young fan just now learning how the internet works.

I've been isolated a lot of my life and have several mental health issues plus autism so I'm super knowledgeable in some areas but completely in the dark in others that might seem incredibly obvious and commonly known, and it's the same for fandoms and websites. (I've actually been apparently using Tumblr wrong this whole time too for the like system. I've been using it mostly as bookmarks or read laters. Whoops.)

On a lesser note, I also never imagined I would start drawing again. I actually used to be pretty good at it but again, was shamed and ridiculed for a lot and compared to others so I stopped for a really long time. I'm glad I can share it without being tooooo embarrassed anymore.

It means a lot to me to be so supported, and I would tag a few of you specifically but I don't want you guys to feel called out. But please know that your support and enthusiasm means the world to me and I appreciate and care about you very much. Thank you for helping me feel safe while I'm letting myself be vulnerable.

#personal #writing #vulnerability #community #thank you #<3

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doctorweebmd · 5 months

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hi this isn't a question i just desperately need to tell you how much zero sum game ruined me and put me back together again. lurking mental illness and suicidality under shit circumstances, physical disability, mental and physical scars, constantly fighting off the ptsd and having to learn how to cope in ways that don't hurt other people so you can hang onto the person that makes it all worth it. it's everything i've gone through, right down to soul destroying and healing intimacy, at first to feel pain and then to attempt feeling truly good for the first time. zero sum is undoubtedly going to be one of those artworks i can never shake off my psyche in the best way, like an abstract background hug for my heart. thank you so much for taking so many scary themes to tackle and packaging them so beautifully, i really needed that lately.

sincerely, a previous battle of the bands fan who is now absorbing your entire oeuvre into their personality.

first i want to thank you profusely for sending me this. thank you for sharing your own experience, and your own pain. i know thats not easy and i'm some random person but honestly reading this makes me feel not so alone in the world. of course, thank you for reading, but also for relaying that you felt seen by it. i always feel so silly because its a my hero academia fanfiction but, with all sincerity, words like yours are what make writing it worth it.

zero-sum is sincerely my favorite thing i've ever written and probably always will be. not because i think the plot is awesome or the physics stuff was cool (EVEN THOUGH I STILL THINK THOSE THINGS ARE TRUE) but because its the first time i was able to write about my own personal experiences with mental illness (heavily projected onto Katsuki and Izuku, lmao) in over ten years.

Okay fair warning i am going to overshare under the cut so please feel free to stop reading also I love you and cherish you and appreciate you thank you so so so much for sending this

i'm sharing this because, at some point, i needed to read this. maybe someone will stumble on to it and realize something. maybe not. maybe its just another way for me to continue to process what happened. i think i'll always be processing it. mental illness is a bitch

when things got really bad for me (the first time around) i stopped writing completely. at that time, i truly, from the bottom of my heart, believed that my disorder was the only thing that made my writing interesting. that if i was to recover, that means i could no longer do the only thing i was good for. unironically, writing was actually a major barrier to my recovery for some time.

writing, the thing i loved most in the world, started heavily triggering me.

so i stopped.

the problem was, i heavily romanticized what i was going through in my writing. i made the suffering 'beautiful.' by thinking it was beautiful, i was trapping myself in a loop of self-destruction.

they say, 'write what you know.' but all i knew was misery. so misery was what i wrote.

romanticizing your pain is something i think we all do. sometimes you have to. its a survival mechanism. if the pain is 'beautiful,' then its 'tolerable' to go through.

what no one really tells you about mental illness is that its really, really fucking lonely.

what no one tells you about recovery is, its even lonelier. its the most isolating thing in the world. everything you relied on, everything you thought to be true, the way you interact with the world completely changes.

things are always going to be different. you can't go back to who you were before.

what i did do, when i went into recovery, was read the very few published books about people with (disorder) who recovered. over and over and over again. i needed something to latch on to. anything. i needed to believe it was possible. i needed to believe people like me survived. that they could find happiness. that they could find love. that there is space in this world for people as broken as me.

i dont know. zero-sum, to me, was a love letter to that 19 year old kid that hit her (first) rock bottom. i pretended she didn't exist because it hurt too much to think about her. but what she needed to know, then, that recovering, no matter how difficult, was worth it. that life can and WILL get better. that she will one day wake up every morning and think 'fuck. i'm so glad i'm alive.' that even people like her can find happiness.

that one day, many years later, embarrassed, she'll show her scars to a person she just started dating. that he'll sheepishly show her his. that they'll exchange police reports like love letters. she'll learn that there are people out there that understand her. have felt her same pain. have lived through the same hell. she'll learn that survival is sometimes based on hope, and sometimes based on spite.

but is, despite it all, always worth it.

she'll learn that her suffering does not preclude her from love and connection and happiness.

that one day, she won't feel so alone.

and that one day, she'll be able to sit down at her computer and write about it. maybe it will be in the form of my hero academia fanfiction lmao but that doesn't make it any less real.

maybe it will reach someone. maybe it won't.

but one day, she'll be able to do the thing she loved more than anything in the world again, because nothing is ever truly lost.

there is a future worth fighting for.

#oh wow i got like super emotional writing this lmao #i am so sorry anon i know this is not what you intended behind this message lol #thank you so much for reading and for your kind words #and apologies #for kind of...... letting it get away from me lmao #recovery is not linear. i still struggle with my mental health #its been like 10 years and thinking about it still feels fresh #but. like. yeah. recovery is possible. happiness is possible.#it might seem like you will never get better #god. i KNOW.#but it does. and it will.#and you are not alone

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jerirose · 1 year

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Ah... where to begin, hm? Well, I guess I'll start by saying that this is my New Year's Post - please feel free to ignore. Firstly - to everyone that follows this Blog - Thank for you enjoying my art - thank you for believing in me. 😭 I hope I can make more pieces you like and love this year!!

There's a lot I could say here - 2022 was.... it was a rough year, there were many highs, but the lows were ever so close to taking me out. I've never felt so defeated in my life than I did this year, a lot changed - I finally found myself but during that process I had to bend and break and learn how to connect all the shattered pieces that were scattered and flung around, all in darkness. If I could compare 2022, at least the first half of the year, it was like walking through a cave, alone, with a broken phone and no lights to guide me, and the further I walked, the harder it was to breath and the walls just kept closing in around me. I've felt trapped before but... nothing compared to the isolation I felt in this cave - Having that gender identity crisis was so, so, so lonely, and I was so lost. I busied myself with friends, streaming, reading, exercising, running, dancing, TV series and finally - it led me to art and somehow... Stray Kids? It's so funny how a friend talking me in to downloading a stupid little app on my phone, managed to change my life so drastically. On the 1st July '22, 8 silly little men walked into my life and... they saved me - that dark cave? I was no longer alone in it and there was a light to guide me, the weight of my boots lightened, and there were hands to hold. I wasn't alone or afraid any more.... - I know it may sound really fucking stupid to some; like how is it that 8 random men did that, but your friends couldn't? The people around you couldn't? I... I can't explain it - But I will say... my friends? My Twitch community? They were the reason I continued walking, they were the backbone holding me together, I will always be grateful for the strength they gave me to push through, even when I really, really didn't want to. But Stray Kids? I can't explain it... I just know I'd probably still be wondering that cave alone if they hadn't found me, maybe I wouldn't have made it out... I honestly don't know, and I really don't want to think about it... My love for Art & Stray Kids meeting at the same time took me in a direction I never thought I'd go - and my love for art exploded and through my love of art I began expressing my love and gratitude for my boys, my 8 guides. When I started my Music Video Portraits I NEVER in a million years thought I'd become so attached to them, that I'd be where I am today with them but

OH MY GOD

am I soooo thankful I did because... it led me here? It led me to Stayville and Stayblr, to all the incredible friends and people I've met in this amazing community both on Tumblr and off of Tumblr. I'm not amazing at making new friends - or at least, I don't feel like I am. I overthink, and I'm awkward, and I feel like a constant fuck up and annoying. But I've met some amazing and incredible people these last few months, and I'm so grateful for all of you welcoming me, a Baby Stay, with open arms - it really means a lot.... being able to share my love of the boys with other people? It makes it that much more special to me. I can't wait to continue to build our friendships more and get to know some of you more! Thank you, for being a part of my 2022! Wishing you light and self-love, compassion and kindness in 2023. May your year be gentle to you <3 @purple-belle @happysmilebtr @snug-gyuu @shmalll @hanjesungs @changbeens @winterfloral @hailng @abiaswreck @agibbangs @quokki @jinniebit @lecknow @mixtape-channie @njaems @milfho @chanizard @ggthydrangea @missyedits @juiceofmoons @bangchanies @hoerachas @babychicklix @svintsandghosts @lonelystreetlight @seonghwaminho @sstarryoong @jisungsjaistandjeekies @geniaparadox @cb97percent @septicrebel @catsaenen @skz-films @minzbins @cheekyquokka @hyunpic @dongjusmilf @seo-changbinnies @xuseokgyu @chanstopher @gymleader @hyunebear @brianbangs @grzvya Apologizes if I forgot anyone <3

#👽 stop speaking nonsense #happy new year #be kind to yourselves #talks of depression #i love stray kids

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feelinkeeli · 2 years

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Cal Kestis and why people say he's a "flat" character

Alright so.... months? ago I mentioned to @ironhoshi I had thoughts on Cal's character development in Fallen Order and I meant to share then in an original post instead of response.

So a lot of people, gamers in particular, tend to comment that they did not care for Cal as a protagonist because he came across as "flat" to them. A sentiment I don't agree with but I can kind of see how other people got there being a long time gamer myself.

I think this "Flat Cal" feeling is a result of expectations vs. reality people had for Jedi Fallen Order. Particularly when it comes to Power Fantasies and Survivor Fantasies.

Videogames often play into the Power Fantasy trope, especially Dark Souls- like games as JFO was marketed. The appeal of starting off weak and vulnerable and through time, effort, and skill turning into a powerful badass. Cal certainly does start off weak and grows into more power but the game's narrative as well as Cal's character development only briefly play into it.

When you consider it, Cal beats very few of the narrative Big Bads by himself. Merrin helps him with Malicos, the Shyyyo Bird with Ninth Sister, Cere initially rescues him Second Sister | Trilla, Vader kills Trilla, and Cere and Cal work together in the end to escape Vader. Aside from Ninth Sister, there aren't many narrative beats highlighting Cal's rising power in a way that leans into the Power Fantasy trope.

Notably, even the Ninth Sister scene gets dismantled from the Power Fantasy trope. Cal brags about how he defeated the Ninth Sister. Yet instead of praise for taking down a difficult opponent, Cere cautions Cal. She's happy he is growing stronger and more confident in himself but she cautions him against arrogance. A warning Cal later acknowledges as right of Cere to make. Cal learns to embrace humility instead of arrogance or overconfidence. His swagger is tempered. He defeats the illusion of Master Tapal not by fighting but by accepting the past.

Honestly, JFO pretty much dismantles the Power Fantasy trope.

Another trope people expected of JFO was a Survivor Fantasy (which I find very ironic now that the JFO sequel has been titled Survivor). In particular, a Lone Survivor Power Fantasy. The type of trope you see in the Lara Croft reboot and the zombie post apocalyspe horror genre (such as Last of Us and The Walking Dead). The idea of a character starting off weak and isolated and is forced to grow stronger and "harden" themselves so that rise above all the adversity trying to kill them (nature or man or even society).

Again, there's definitely a similar basis for this trope in JFO. Cal is one of a few survivors from Order 66, a survivor that is targeted and hunted. A perfect set up for the trope. Except JFO chooses to explore Trauma Recovery instead. JFO is a story of healing both the self and community. It's why Cal starts off brash and threantening to cut down Merrin to handing over his lightsaber to her and Merrin choosing to aide Cal as a result. It's why seeing all the damage on Kashyyyk pains Cal and how the planet hasn't been completely ravaged gives Cal hope. It's why Cal's flashback to his master result in him moving forward instead of letting the past define him. It's why Cere and Cal go through a bumpy mentor-and-mentee relationship resulting in both of them finding the willpower to stand up and fight for what's right. Why the fight against Vader ends with Cere on the brink of giving into the dark side of the Force again and Cal reminding her she has a choice. JFO is about trauma recovery and the importance of community in that recovery process. That one does not need to and should not do things alone.

In a sense JFO is also dismantling the the Lone Survivor Trope the same way it dismantles the Power Fantasy. Of course this dismantling of tropes instead of playing into them, as many videogames do, results in people feeling disatisfied. Gameplay and premise wise, the basis is there but it isn't explored narratively. So Cal comes across as flat because his character didn't develop the way people expected him to.

In reality, Cal's character development and growth is explored through acts of kindness, empathy, and forgiveness. It's about ending self-isolation, running and hiding from your problems, in order to heal and move forward. Cal's story in JFO is about picking himself up and then offering a hand to the next downed person he sees because it's easier to get up with help.

Cal isn't flat. He simply isn't a typical videogame protagonist.

#cal kestis #jedi fallen order #sw: jfo #sw jfo #i have a lot of feelings about this game and Cal #mostly that I love its narrative and Cal's character development #idk as someone with mental health struggles this game & Cal spoke to me #i really hope Survivor carries on the good narrative and character development #eta: somebody save me from my inability to type anything correctly

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moxfirefly · 2 years

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Hoping I’m doing this right, I’ve never made a request! Wondering if you have ideas on the TMNT boys nighttime or morning routines. Thank you for all your amazing work!!

This is a first for me I think and I’m into it! Let’s see what we cook up.

🌙Night time routines🌕

starting off with the resident night time lover, this lad probably has more night time routines that his brothers but as a night owl myself I’m probably projecting

Regardless, Don really enjoys the rare nights he’s got to himself that aren’t spent crime fighting and saving the world.

He does like to work on his projects around this time.

Expect to find him in the lab or garage. Expect music to be on. Expect him to be busy.

Donnie subscribes to the ‘his best ideas come to him at night’ instead of the shower. It could be the quiet around the Lair or it could be because he’s a little isolated during these hours so he can really make progress

If it isn’t spent of fixing or creating, leisure time can be had

A few hours of gaming, a few hours of web surfing, a few hours of coding and hacking

He’s all for having some show or movie on if he’s multitasking

Snacks Snacks Snacks

Caffeine Caffeine Caffeine

He’s for some self care around the night, might even get a workout in since it’s not like Leo is barking orders to train and spar

If he’s especially angsty or can’t really find sleep he’ll take the truck out. Maybe meet up with April. Just do a little sight seeing to calm the mind.

He’s gonna go to bed late, it’s a bad habit but these little hours are special to him.

No matter how tired, always brushes his teeth and washed his face before bedtime. If it’s winter, long sleep pants, if it’s normal weather he’s sleeping in his boxers. Actually likes to fall a sleep to music or some type of noise

Nighttime meditation sessions, always a must. Quiet the mind and the soul for better sleep after all

Tea brewing mandatory and when I tell you he goes all out I mean goes all out. Has night time tea brews and day time tea brews. It’s about the process too honestly. He’s gotta do it.

Will read or watch something if he’s especially having a hard time falling a sleep. But it’s gotta be either comfort movies or shows or something lighthearted.

Listen he’s a little bougie, the boy does like to take care of himself. So he’s very thorough for this showers before bed. Likes feeling extra clean if he just got in from patrol.

Yes he moisturizes

Cleans under the nails

Likes nice smelling things that make him relax.

Obligatory incense burning too

He does have a special blanket for days he’s feeling extra off, Raph knitted it for him when he started knitting so it’s a little uneven and worn but it’s comforting as heck

Nighttime doesn’t have to mean downtime for this sweet nugget. He’s all for having some extra fun.

Has a routine but doesn’t at the same time?

A little nighttime skate sesh can be had, he sneaks into the skate parks at night

Catches up with his hyper-fixations. Wether it’s a comic or series or game.

Mikey can either crash once his head hits the pillow or he’ll stay up playing games (especially if he’s been having a hard time at it)

He’s all for hanging out too, most probable in wanting to share his nighttime routines with you or his brothers.

Spends a couple of hours on his phone too

Bed is wherever he crashed honestly

If not bunking in with someone, most likely to sleep naked.

Appreciates a freshly laundered pillow. The nice smells and toastyness helps him sleep faster.

Does play music to fall a sleep but is very particular about his sleep playlist. It’s gotta be just right.

Cannot watch something scary and sleep afterwards. Will have nightmares.

Isn’t fond of fully pitch black room to sleep in, more often his side of the bed has some fairy lights or LED color changing lights.

Doesn’t believe in ice cream nightmares. The man will eat a full meal and go to sleep as if nothing happened.

Has a routine but is lazy about it.

He doesn’t like getting in a nighttime workout if he’s not out patrolling. Nighttime workouts are sacred for Raph tho. He prefers to do them alone.

Catches up on knitting. Has several works in progress. Will likely finish up one or two.

YouTube browsing (will watch beauty channels) something about a soft voice narrating an entire makeup process or reviewing a movie, really helps him chill. Plus if it’s a pretty content creator it’s a plus.

Knitting videos to pick up new ideas.

Shoots the shit with Casey if he’s off.

Shoots the shit with April if she’s off.

Shoots the shit with Mikey if he’s awake.

He’s surprisingly talkative at night, he likes catching up on the on goings or happenings of his loved ones lives.

Does a little stretching before bedtime, make sure he isn’t all tense.

Firm believer in having a tall glass of water before bed. Maybe a sweet snack.

Has to be in a certain position to fully fall a sleep.

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