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retrocatastrophy · 6 months

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A short fic I started this summer and finally finished.

Tw: character death mention, suicide thoughts

It was already three in the morning. The group began to disintegrate and head back home, back to its weekly life of working hours and necessary integration into the society. Sonja and Taarna were the last to leave, since they lived directly across the hall from the boys. Sonja admittedly had to be coaxed by Taarna to go since she and Conan always had something to talk (and bicker) about at any time. Taarna waved at Conan goodbye and he locked the door, relieved that the flat was quiet again, though he still smelled cigarettes, alcohol, and someone's vomit.

He went out onto the terrace to clear his lungs. The streets were deserted, and the city was sleeping.

Conan then noticed Elric sitting on the tiles with his legs through the bars of the fence and a cigarette in his mouth. He didn't seem tired. He had a small radio with space rock songs playing at a low volume.

"How long have you been hiding out here?" Conan leaned against the cold railing. The lights on the neighboring buildings were mostly off except for a few lonely windows.

"What time is it?" Elric shook the ash from his cigarette and threw his head back to keep the hair out of his eyes.

"It's already three. Did you skip the whole party?"

"I was there when Taarna and Sonja came. When Larn and the others started arriving, it was too much for me." Elric coughed.

Conan spat from the fence and narrowly missed someone's illegally parked car "When are you going to stop smoking? Your lungs are going to hell."

Elric shrugged and tossed his cigarette through the fence. Conan calculated in his head how long the albino would live if he continued to take his health for granted. In the last couple of weeks he's started taking and mixing some drugs he's gotten off the dark web. Elric claimed they helped his chronic pain, though Conan knew he was lying.

"Have you been avoiding anyone?" Conan raised a bushy eyebrow and flashed a teasing smile as Elric stretched out his legs and leaned against the rough texture of the wall.

"Was it that bratty rich kid Nekron?" Conan inquired. In truth, Nekron was kicked out 10 minutes into the party due to his inappropriate behavior. But not before Taarna broke his nose.

Elric shook his head "I wasn't avoiding anyone. I just wasn't in the mood."

Conan's expression softened slighltly when he noticed Elric was genuinely in a bad mood. His eyes were slighltly reddish, masked only by the city's cloudless night.

"Something bad happened?" Conan inquired, a bit more tenderly, or as much as he could.

Elric glanced at him for the first time since the conversation started. He was quiet for a while, then spoke.

"Cymoril passed away." he sniffed, but Conan wasn't sure if it was from smoke or were his tears coming back. "The hospital said that she succumbed to her injuries. Yyrkoon is currently in custody but he'll pull some strings and be out sooner or later." his voice was shaking slighltly. His cousin always had a knack for avoiding the law.

Conan was aware of the situation. And he watched Elric spiral from the stress of it. Even if he and the albino weren't particularly close, he couldn't stand watching him sink into despair and self blame.

"Elric-" he began

"Don't, barbarian. I don't want to talk about it." Elric looked at him sternly

"Why not? Someone ought to make you face the truth." Conan retorted

"I'm warning you, don't go there!

"It wasn't your fault."

Elric stared into the streets, dirty and deserted "Wasn't it? I told her she wouldn't get hurt..."

Conan put a strong arm onto the albino's boney shoulder "You did the best you could."

Elric's head dropped down into his lap "But it wasn't enough... She got shot and I couldn't protect her."

Conan was getting agitated. Elric was always prone to self blaming for things that were out of his control "That bastard tricked you, don't put the blame solely on yourself!"

Elric snapped back at him "I shot her with my weapon! What else is there to say? And now she's dead... I won't see her again..." he sobbed into his knees.

Conan sighed "You keep on living. You won't pay off any debts if you die. You won't fulfil your dreams if you're dead."

Elric scoffed slighltly "My dreams died when she did. I'm one foot in the grave anyway now. It's only a matter of time now. Maybe I should do everyone a favor and just k-"

Conan grabbed Elric's shoulders and shook him, harder than he intended "Don't you dare say things like that! Don't ever say anything like that!"

Elric's eyes widened, staring into the barbarian's blue ones intensely. The radio went silent, it's batteries dying out.

Conan then released him and stepped back into the room. Elric hugged his knees, staring into the heavy night sky. If his blood wasn't so thin, he was sure he would have been blushing now.

#retrocatastrophy #elric of melnibone #Elric #conan the barbarian #conan the cimmerian #Conan #Conan x Elric #fanfic

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your-eternal-lies · 2 months

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𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ╰┈➤ chapter one

𝒏𝒐𝒕-𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 — do not plagiarize, copy, screenshot, repost/republish, and/or translate any of my work for posting on social media platforms or third party sites. no part of my stories are to be fed into AI software or generators. and please remember: you are responsible for your own media consumption. check for any content warnings before you proceed.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐱 — 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — steve rogers x neighbour f!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — as his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the captain. getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — none.

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝑵𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓

Steve Rogers stands before the sleek new digital coffee maker on his kitchen counter, his fingers fumbling with the confusing array of buttons.

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, blue eyes narrowing in concentration. The machine beeps in protest, flashing symbols that might as well be hieroglyphs for all the sense they make to him.

Back in his day, he reminisces as he jabs futilely at the modern contraption, all he needed were some grounds, water, and a bit of heat. So, why does this have to be so complicated?

But the LED display just flickers mockingly at him before flashing an error message, which only adds insult to injury.

As Steve stands there, engaged in his silent battle with technology, his phone vibrates on the counter. It’s from Natasha, and for a minute, he thinks he’s being called into work. Instead, her words pop up on the screen like tiny grenades:

Natasha: Have you asked out Sharon yet? Natasha: She’s cute AND a nurse—practical for a guy who gets shot at for a living.

He sighs, pocketing his phone as he leans against the counter. Sharon is cute, he relents, but asking her out means stepping into unfamiliar territory.

He tells himself that he can’t afford any distractions, thinking about his duty to SHIELD, about the literal shield that feels a bit heavier with each passing day. After Peggy, Bucky, the ice… he didn’t feel like it was fair to drag an innocent civilian into this crazy life of his.

A lot of the time he still feels like that awkward and skinny Brooklyn boy, who had never even danced with a woman before, let alone go on a date with one. They had always looked at him with a sad mix of pity and derision, would much rather hang off the arm of someone like Bucky.

And despite his now… enhanced, shall we say, appearance, the looks of admiration he often gets now just seem to ring hollow.

He knows Natasha means well. She understands the weight of history he carries in his heart, as she’s got her own demons she fights to keep at bay. So, Steve never faults her for encouraging him to have a life outside of work… even if she doesn’t necessarily take her own advice.

Well, he knows shockingly little about her, so he doesn’t know that for sure.

Shaking his head, Steve decides to give the coffee machine one last chance, pushing what he hopes is the right combination of buttons. The machine whirrs affirmatively, and victory seems to be within reach for one hopeful minute—until it sputters pathetically and then goes dark altogether.

“Ah, forget it!” Giving up, Steve unplugs the machine, deciding that he’ll just have to conquer the world of espresso another day.

Clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans, a far cry from his Captain America garb, he decides to head downstairs to the Starbucks on the first floor.

At least there, getting coffee is easy.

Just down the hallway, you stand before your dresser, rummaging through its contents.

When your hand finally emerges victorious, it’s clutching the lone survivor of your clean underwear collection—a single polka-dotted testament to your chronic procrastination.

Laundry day cannot be ignored any longer, not unless you wanted to start fashioning outfits out of your dish towels.

Resignation slumps your shoulders as you zip around your apartment to gather the scattered attire strewn across the floor, each garment snatched up and tossed unceremoniously into the gaping maw of your laundry basket.

With the basket brimming, you wedge a hip against it to keep everything contained. You move slowly towards the door, putting on a pair of slippers, only to be stopped by the sound of whimpering coming from your couch.

“No, Chuck,” you remind your unofficial roommate, a German Shepherd who goes by the name of Charlie—or Chuck, as you prefer to call him. “You can’t come. You are banned from the laundry room after ‘the incident’.”

But Chuck’s tail continues to wag hopefully, his large brown eyes shining, his head tilted to the side in the very picture of innocence.

You soften, but only a touch when you remember him peeing all over your freshly washed, neatly folded laundry, meaning you had to start all over again.

“Nice try, buddy,” you give him a half-hearted glare. He lets out a soft woof, and you swear you see judgment in his eyes as he looks at your leaning tower of laundry. Well, what does he know, the big oaf? He licks his own butt. “Couch fortress until I return, okay?”

The hallway outside your door is its usual self—stale air, the faint smell of someone’s burnt breakfast, and the muffled echo of someone’s TV playing what sounds like a rerun of I Love Lucy.

As you round the corner, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. There, leaning against the wall with a casual grace that flies in the face of a man who leaps out of planes and fights aliens for a living, is him.

Captain America himself, in all his star-spangled glory, waiting for the same ride down to the lobby.

Oh, no. Nnnnope.

You are not taking the elevator with Steve freaking Rogers, carrying an arm full of your unwashed unmentionables while dressed in old PJs and a tank top. There is no way!

The urge to run back to the safety of your apartment is strong, where neither your couch nor your dog have arms that could bench press a Buick.

Maybe you could step back behind the corner, make a run for the stairwell, or maybe even pull the damn fire alarm—

But it’s too late. He’s heard you, already twisting slightly at his narrowed waist and tossing a glance back at you over his shoulder.

“Hey, neighbour,” he smiles. Your heart does an unwelcome somersault.

Well, at least the elevator ride would be quick… right?

« Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

Notes — So, to encourage my writing, I’ve decided to make each chapter exactly 1,000 words, no more and no less. It’s harder than I thought it would be! But it also takes the pressure off to hit a longer word count and helps me manage the pacing. I hope you enjoy!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #summer’s fics

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numbaoneflaya · 3 years

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Can I get a list of all ur ocs?

Well anon youve done it, you made me make a list of all my major OCS in one place. I hope your happy with yourself. Under the cut for obvious reasons, may link in my blog desc later.

Modern/BTD verse!!

Jilly- Ferret beastkin little creature, was recently turned into a werewolf by vincent as well so she's running around on full moons in a wereferret wolf hybrid creature form. Chaotic and friendly and wants to be everyone's bestie. She has the most energy in the world and is very kind hearted. Banned from most Claires for stealing and from one Home Depot for climbing the shelves. Prone to living life with rose colored glasses on and seeing the best in everything/everything even when there's nothing there. Socialization is a must for her and is why being basemented/kidnapped broke her psych so quickly and developed severe stockholm. Sometimes overly talkative/enthusiastic and can scare people off. Even if she sees someone shes decided shes friends with be noticeably 'evil', will convince herself it must be for some reason/her fault and ignore it.

Ciggy- Undead punk still learning to harness his powers to interact with the world as a ghost. Was sacrificed by a cult he joined for free concert tickets and to get laid. Likes to cause problems on purpose both pre and prior death and he's not above possessing someone once he learns how to. Was called Rooster in high school before he dropped out because he's loud, obnoxious and always screaming. And also has bright red dyed hair. Looking 4 ways to become less ghosty bcs he wants to be able to help raise his infant daughter, whom he died before he could meet. Bit annoying and in your face, likes poking at bruises, his or others. Kind of a sad heart seeking attention through volume and persistence.

Mike: Vampire loser! Sells drugs and lives at raves. Was turned when she was attacked by a coked out vampire (whom she supplied the product to) and has major scarring on her face and chest. Needs a somewhat constant influx of blood so shell sometimes take victims back to her place and chain them up, slowly draining them over time. Feels bad (ish) about it tho so it is possible to survive her if you are nice and or interesting enough. Kind of desperate for a friend and for love. Is a stalker. If she likes you enough/finds you interesting, she might just appear in your house one night and start rummaging through your fridge like nothing is wrong and youve been besties for years. Its best to indulge her and be friendly, otherwise she could turn violent quickly if her feelings are hurt.

Kilaine- Regular human woman, but fucked up. Born and raised by an elite waspy society she had an interest in the human body and pain tolerance since she was young. Quickly learned that these traits were socially unacceptable in most professions, so she became a doctor. The only family she cared about was her younger sister who she lost in a car accident, where they were flipped over and trapped inside while it was afire. While her sister burned up in front of her Kilaine only lost her left arm and had major burns on her body. This tipped her descent into sadism and she is now madly obsessed with bringing her sister back no matter the cost. Rude and offstandish, clinical.

Dragon age verse!

Thurwen- My main Hero of Ferelden with a bad temper and a heart of gold. City elf from the Denerim Alienage, 18 at the start of origins. She's a reaver warrior with a lot of pent up rage which sometimes scares others when she lets it out in battle. Over the years she's grown less moody as she's had to take the role of Commander. Crude sense of humor and violent impulses, very sensitive to the plights of others and tries often to help. Never seen crying in public but only cries to herself at night- major martyr and hanged man complex.

Caz- My circle mage elf inquisitor who was an apostate before the conclave. Blood magic, but make it sneaky. Wary of strangers and new faces, always dealing with the impulse to flee/find a high vantage point. Endless curiosity about the unknown/ the forbidden/ naughty, was supposed to be made tranquil for it but she escaped. Kind of a little creature as well, lived on her own for a while as an apostate in the woods, filed her teeth down to sharp ends to make herself look more intimidating (shes 5 ft tall) and less cute (her elf ears are huge and expressive, which shes embarrassed about)

Dag and Thagna- Carta twins! Professional lyrium smugglers since birth pretty much. Raised casteless in dust town and had to work their way up the chain of command by themselves. Dag is the brother, Thagna the sister. Their father traded them to the carta for drinking money and their mom died in childbirth so they have somewhat of a codependent relationship. Both charismatic and calculating, friendly and agreeable but won't hesitate to put a dagger in your back. Hard to pin down morally or physically, squirrelly bastards.

Reila: Dalish elf who works for the inquisition/ is the inquisitor in some aus. She has an extreme fixation on elvhen history and rebuilding what they have lost. Not a people person, prefers solitude. Takes some time to warm up to shemhlen as she has a hard history with them. Good friends with Caz, who recruited her in the first place. Doesn't understand very many social cues and finds societal expectations limiting and frustrating. Fondness for halla and hooved animals, which she finds graceful.

Elder scrolls verse!

Valkya: Near seven foot nord woman whos over a thousand years old by the events of skyrim. Tall and buff, two handed warrior and compulsive hero there to bask in the spotlight save the day. She was killed at the start of the events of Elder scrolls online and had her soul ripped out and sent to coldharbor and she's just been a pain in the ass about it since then. Her body can physically die and will not regrow pieces. Her soul however will escape and teleport to the nearest source of power where her body will regrow from an aetherial plasm until its whole again. Loud and brash, friendly and jovial. Actually pretty keen especially after centuries of life but prefers to play dumb as it makes people underestimate her. Plus, she really does enjoy mud wrestling and drinking contests and acting generally like a rambunctious frat boy. Ha developed a bit of a substance problem and a problem with acting out, as after being alive so long she would turn to anything to dull the ache inside of her that never goes away.

Espira- My Dragonborn! Redguard from Hammerfell who was briefly in the Ash’abah due to killing undead while protecting her parents water farm as a child. Ran away from them after years and went to Cyrodille, then to Skyrim and was caught crossing the border. Reserved, kind and soft spoken, she's a sword and shield warrior who's committed herself to doing good in the world by helping others. Dislikes killing and anything messy but believes it is often necessary in order to protect the weak. She blacksmiths often to save money on the upkeep of her own equipment, and takes up metal jewelry working as a hobby with the excess material. Prone to trusting others too much and giving too many second chances, as shes always looking for ways to make even the most hardened criminal a second look at life.

Riley- Espiras little brother who she locked in the wardrobe during the event of the water farm attack. In preventing him from doing violence against the undead she kept him from being conscripted into the Ash’abah. He's way more chaotic than his sister, and suffers from a case of little sibling syndrome in which he will often pester/poke at people just to get a rise out of them. Still kind hearted as his sister, he tries to hide it because he believes that the world is a cruel place and the cruel survive. Despite that belief he is often still unable to force himself to be cruel/careless, only making a show of it so that others leave him alone and don't see that he's very sensitive and emotional. Deaf in one ear due to a magic mishap in his youth, he trained and enchanted his most beloved rats to live for years and sit on his shoulder, alerting him to noises he would not otherwise notice.

Felria: Evil vamp :/ chaotic evil dunmer necromancer. Small and devilish and likes dead bodies too much. Manipulative and cunning, she loves acting. She's a trained assassin for the dark brotherhood and is the speaker. Likes dressing up for missions and wearing disguises like its all a play. Loves toying with people more than she loves killing them, will act in ways that cause as much trauma as possible for other people just for fun and she finds the reactions interesting. Considers herself too far removed from most people's perception of morality and of her so it's hard for her to trust someone or see them as worthy of knowing her. Finds the psychology of grief and fear to be interesting and wants to study them first hand. The hero of kvatch.

Herren: Fifty something year old rat woman looking for something to keep her going. Ran away from her wealthy family in her youth when they wanted her to take charge of the household, instead became an infamous jewel thief and swashbuckler. Spent most of her life traveling and stealing and double dealing. She's smarmy and sarcastic, a serial romancer of the highest caliber. Bit of a show off and a hedonist, always looking for the next good party or new product to snort. Her family died off due to the hard times she wasn't there for and she keeps looking for bigger and bigger heists to fill her appetite as she's chronically bored and lonely, though wont accept intimacy and will scoff at it out of the belief she doesn't deserve it. Irresponsible and selfish, lonely and terrified of any sort of commitment. Fun to party with though!

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empathic-seer · 3 years

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About

Name: Sheridan Dwyer

Age: 18(TWEWY), 21(Neo-TWEWY/Post Neo)

Height: 4’9/144 cm

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Questioning but identifies Bisexual

Occupation: Full-time College Student for Nursing, works part-time performing whatever jobs she can get for acting and voice acting. Keeping her eyes open for an opening at WildKat.

Biography:

I’d mostly prefer for the details to come out organically, but she lives in Shibuya to pursue Nursing school and has a tiny apartment all her own.

Her mother has suffered from chronic pain and other ailments since she was small but they’re super close, her biological father treats her like a child and tries to buy her love with money and video games and her mother’s now ex was severely emotionally and verbally abusive as well all the way until he was finally kicked out when she was 14.

Her mother has kept in some contact though she’s readying to cut him off completely and Sheridan still stiffens at the sound of his voice and can recognize him by his knock.

She’s always seen the UG, but she didn’t learn or see nearly as much as she does in Shibuya due to being from a smaller town in New York. It was mainly just Noise.

She was born at 1 pound 11 ounces and before the third trimester, leading to her nearly dying twice. According to her Mom, she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, so she wasn’t getting any nutrients. After that scare, 3 days later her oxygen levels suddenly went down to single digits, to the point a priest was called in to give last rites. Once the cross was drawn on her forehead her oxygen levels shot up and haven’t come back down since.

Sheridan assumes this is why she can see the UG, though she has no idea why she was saved and it’s something she struggles with often.

Speaking of the Game; boy is she conflicted about it. She probably shouldn’t be, but she helps any Players she can if she catches them in a reaper decal store, warning them of approaching Noise and often putting herself at risk to help them find Partners to give them a fighting chance. She’s also known for interfering more directly by taking infective Noise onto herself. She can’t take seeing others in pain and would rather deal with the ensuing negativity than have another go through it.

So yeah. Oops. As far as her conflict with the Game itself, she loves the fact people get a second chance, and even understands entry fees and their purpose to help others grow. But the erasure part...that she struggles with. It takes a big emotional toll on her and she can’t grasp why it’s necessary as she doesn’t understand the inner-workings enough.

Thoughts on the Games:

The World Ends With You:

Speaking of the Game; boy is she conflicted about it. She probably shouldn’t be, but she helps any Players she can if she catches them in a reaper decal store, warning them of approaching Noise. She’s also known for interfering more directly by taking infective Noise onto herself. She can’t take seeing others in pain and would rather deal with the ensuing negativity than have another go through it. All the better if it helps out Players on the way.

She recognizes she has a lot to learn, especially being only a bystander who mainly watches from the sidelines.

At the end of the Game, nimbly avoids wearing an O pin after seeing the effects from the Game, she hides out in high Imagination areas like Udagawa, the River and WildKat to feel safer. The conformity scares her, she’s always felt different but being alone in a sea of people with the same goal...she never wants to feel so isolated again.

Neo:

As far as Shiba’s Game...she does not like the change.

The UG she’d come to expect was turned completely on its head and it’s even worse.

She understood most of Joshua’s Game. The checks and balances set in place, Reapers and Players, entry fees...all of it save the erasure.

But now the erasures have increased with one team winning nonstop and all she can do is watch in horror as it happens. So many people...Erased without a thought week after week. It’s emotional torture for her as an Empath honestly. The horror, the fear, and then just...nothing.

The shifting energy is much darker than the conformity at the end of the original and she can tell something dangerous is happening, though she can’t grasp what.

Worries over the Wicked Twisters and keeps tabs on their emotions throughout the Game since they’re so much smaller than the other groups.

To say she was shocked when both Neku and Beat were in again was an understatement. She thought they’d escaped. There’s so much she doesn’t know but she watches even more intently when she can from then on.

Feels Shoka’s struggle and wants to help the girl escape the toxic influences surrounding her and get in a better environment.

Just wants everyone to be safe and healthy and for the suffocating air to be breathable again.

Tidbits:

Has always felt drawn to Shibuya River, and WildKat Cafe. There’s a...quiet. A calmness she never gets anywhere else. Particularly in the river. It’s just herself and her own emotions for once but even they feel muted there. Darker thoughts even if present is quieter, and become white noise in the wake of the sound of the river flowing.

Tends to loiter quietly and shyly steal glances at Hanekoma and Joshua if either is in the cafe but too intimidated to actually approach. Something feels...otherworldly about them. Her intuition can tell something is powerful about them so she’s always kept her distance despite feeling a pull towards both.

That goes the same for Hazuki as well, of course.

All Higher Plane beings in her experience mute her Empathy, though she isn't sure why. It's part of why she's so on edge around them, both wanting to be near and torn on approaching.

The library is another place you’ll find her, sequestering in a lone corner far from others and likely reading some supernatural romance aloud or working on a story.

Chronic fatigue is a bad side effect that’s pretty noticeable if she’s been giving too much of herself to others and letting herself be drained. In high school, she’d come home and have to nap for an hour or 3 depending on the day just to recover from the constant negativity she took on from all her “friends”. She still finds herself in that state pretty often, though not as bad nowadays as she’s trying to learn healthy boundaries.

Personality:

Sheridan is very openhearted and kind. Often way too trusting and forgiving for her own good despite having very good intuition. She’s very quick to inquire how others are but brushes off when asked about herself and quickly redirects. She’s very comfortable when it comes to taking care of others since she had a sick mom to take care of all throughout childhood. It’s instinct for her to see if anyone needs anything and she’s ended up flustered many a time by accidentally asking “are you ok?” or “do you need anything?” since if she drifts off or gets bored it’ll pop out sometimes after living with her mom for so long.

She’s also an Empath, meaning she feels what others do and experiences their emotions as her own. She tends to have her guard up a little, she doesn't want to accidentally get too much of someone unless they're ready to give it, but she also doesn't want to leave someone in crisis. She...has a bad habit of attracting people who use her as an emotion dumping ground and letting them stay way too long.

Sheridan feels like her whole purpose is to help others. Like it's all she's good for. She's really struggling to learn that selfish isn't a dirty word and that she's allowed to want things too and to get upset and that what she says is worth listening to.

Easy to think about, but hard to put into practice. She's learned when people ignore her or especially talk over her to quiet down. 'Clearly they just really need to talk right? I didn't have anything important to add anyway." Or so her thought process typically goes.

She tends to be shy at first but if given positive reinforcement and encouragement she’ll slowly warm up. She does best in intimate, small groups.

Seems like she doesn’t have a sense of humor but is actually pretty funny now and then. She just has to feel comfortable enough to crack jokes in the first place.

People tend to look at her in shock if she curses since when she’s first meeting people and in the warming up phase, she seems very polite, kind, and innocent to a fault.

Easily flustered, especially by teasing. Any person she’s even a little bit attracted to she’ll likely be at least a little pink, fidgety and sheepish. It doesn’t take much either. Corner her, pin her, or even just direct eye contact could be enough to make her go red. She’s hopeless in that regard since she’s very inexperienced.

Severely touch starved but way too scared of rejection to initiate or confess as much so she just kinda suffers in silence.

An easy crier. Cries at the drop of a hat. Even when angry, she cries because no matter what she’s hurting to be angry at all given it’s typically very rare for her to begin with. Feeling what everyone around her does has led to her being a every emotional person in her own right.

Hobbies:

Enjoys acting and performing more than anything, even though she’s yet to be cast as a lead or anything major except in her theatre final, where she got to play Doris from Fame. One of her favorite roles. She loved participating in high school at her musical theatre program and did stage crew all the way up to 11th grade when she finally made it in and got to be in first the ensemble and then lead ensemble the following year. She often gets typecast as the “cute one” or child roles thanks to being 4’9 and being very accommodating and kind.

Somewhat hand in hand with acting and performing, but singing. Gets stage fright occasionally but is able to push through it.

Reading body language is something else she finds very fun, but she never voices it without explicit consent. She likes to people-watch in Shibuya and guess their lives inwardly to keep herself fresh.

Plays video games very often, especially RPGs as well as reading to escape her troubles. It’s a great way to combat loneliness and also not think for a while, to lose herself in another world.

Writes as well, to vent her negative thoughts. Typically through a fanfiction blog for x reader fandom and kpop content in 2nd person. A bit shy about voicing it though. Has original ideas and has started a book but trying to build her own world and the magic system has proven a bit difficult.

Reading supernatural romance novels. Her favorite genre since the worlds and characters are typically very immersive and serve as great escape potential. Loves to find a corner, make sure she's completely alone, and voice act the characters as she reads. Y'know, like a nerd.

Likes to bake, especially different types of cookies. It’s a great stress reliever. She has several video game recipes she wants to try to learn though. Particularly the butterscotch cinnamon pie from Undertale and sea-salt ice cream from Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days.

Binging guilty pleasure shows. Loves laughing at trashy reverse harems with friends like Diabolik Lovers to both appreciate the hotness of the designs and voice acting and also how awful the characters are as people. Doesn’t mind thirsting over toxic vampires, but obviously only in fiction.

Anxiety:

Mental Health: Not great, though most likely wouldn't guess so. She'd much rather help others, see what they need than have them focus on her. She's very much not used to that and doesn't know how to react.

(Important Note! Please do NOT feel pressured to include anything below in our rp and if you ever need a specific thing added as a trigger tag do let me know! My Trigger tag format is Trigger; ______ if you need to block any! I'm open to it of course, given I included them in my form I just want to make sure everyone I roleplay with has the tools to tailor the experience to them and feel secure.

If I want to start a thread or anything about the issues below I will likely message the Mun in advance first for permission first unless they've stated they're explicitly fine with such content and apologies in advance if I'm awkward when reaching out.)

She tends to have panic attacks thanks to severe arachnophobia and it can take her a solid hour to work up the courage to try and kill one, typically while she's crying and whimpering to herself to "breathe Sheridan, that's it breathe…"

She tends to get bouts of social anxiety. When she's acting it's fine because she's not her, and the same for if she's in an intimate group.

But especially if someone starts yelling at her? She'll likely freeze and then look to run away before the person sees her crying. She can't stop shaking and can barely breathe. It's awful and a huge trigger for her. Even if it's not directed at her she'll still panic.

Also suffers from driver’s anxiety. Still only has her permit since she hasn’t found anyone who can put her at ease enough and that she wouldn’t be embarrassed to break down with.

Asperger's Syndrome/Autism Spectrum Disorder:

High functioning but a big person to hyper-fixate and jump from one fixation to another especially when in a bad headspace. Can become obsessed and may need to be gently pulled back/ forced outside.

Stims, mainly physically. Squirms before sleep mainly because her brain won't shut off.

Soft/smooth stims are her favorite anxiety soothers.

Has a rainbow bear with purple eyes she's had since childhood that is a stim she uses to calm from panic.

Clutches her necklace; an Undertale plaque that reads in white text '*a determined soul' and has the rainbow SOUL hearts above it. Uses it as a source of strength.

Bounces her leg when she can but has mainly learned to force herself to stop.

Only does this one when not around her mom since both share the same stim and her Mom said it made her nauseous.

Depression:

Frequent intrusive negative thought spirals and suicidal ideation. Thoughts of self-harm, in a similar vein, though she’d never act on it.

Unfortunately, knowing they’re irrational doesn’t stop the thoughts from happening way too often for her liking.

Her becoming overwhelmed by her emotions and breaking down for 3 hours is commonplace, as is her ghosting for way too long. A bad habit because she doesn't want to burden anyone when she’s not even able to be there for them.

Basically, if she isn’t serving others she feels she shouldn’t exist at all but she’s trying to understand she has worth all on her own.

Eating Issues:

Body dysmorphia with her weight. She tends to not eat often and even if urged she hates that she has to force herself and typically puts herself down which can lead to a spiral if she’s not careful.

Sometimes she's fine. But even when "fine" she'll typically have something small like a muffin, and a 1/4 of dinner and that's all she'll eat.

She snacks because she doesn't have to think when she eats it if she's distracted. Things like popcorn, pocky, or pretzels are her go-to's.

Kind of wants someone to be able to care enough to notice inwardly and maybe text her to see when and what she's last eaten but doesn't ever want to emotionally dump like others do to her because she doesn't want to be a burden or pitied.

CPTSD:

She had her first emotion flashback recently having to do with her abuser and has been shaken ever since, trying to deal with it on her own. Yelling is a trigger for her, especially when paired with degradation.

Forced "civility" as well.

There was a period while her mother was unaware of the extent of the abuse given Sheridan was still trying to protect her. Over the course of 3 years nothing but good night and good morning, passive-aggressive and snide comments of "aren't you going to say hi/bye/thank you/your welcome?" anytime she was too crippled by anxiety/fear to look at him, let alone speak was the norm.

Relationships:

None yet! Just let me know if anyone wants to be added and I’ll happily do so! <3

#Headcanons; intuitive introspection #Ooc; navigating noise #Trigger; eating disorders #Trigger; verbal abuse #Trigger; emotional abuse #Trigger; depression #Trigger; anxiety #Trigger; arachnophobia #Trigger; cptsd

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happypeachsludgeflower · 4 years

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hiya,

here’s a fic i started writing awhile ago featuring Ginny Weasley being a melodramatic 5 y/o and Molly Weasley being a Grump™. there are more notes at the bottom \(★ω★)/

___

A small, lone figure lay sprawled in the jade grass of the orchard, a mass of fiery red curls fanning out around her as she stared up at the eerily swirling clouds with interest. She knew that the sickly, green stain that spread across her vision was a warning. ‘Run,’ it said. ‘Hide.’ But the young child couldn’t find it in herself to care.

If the storm wanted to harm her it would and no hiding would stop it.

Still, her mum would be livid with her when she returned home—furious the five year old hadn’t returned when the approaching storm first reared it’s ugly head across the horizon, roaring its displeasure with each clap of thunder, enlightening the ignorance of mankind as it ripped the sky apart with each flash of lighting. It was a beautiful dance, the child thought, as splatters of rain lightly began to fall, the world seeming to cry for its frustration. More beautiful a rage then any vexation her mother could possibly display.

The child closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the rain seep into her soul. There was something inherently calming about the world releasing its pent up emotions. Even the world had to weep sometimes. Even the universe had to scream.

The child wished she could scream. She wished she could cry. She wished she could hit something and break something and just be for one moment in time. But the possibility of such expression seemed so far out of reach. Her mother would never allow it, not without consequences.

The rain was falling faster now, drenching the ground around her. Her cloths were soaked through, her hair swimming in mud, but the child didn’t seem to care at all. Such things seemed inconsequential to her. Her cloths would dry eventually and her hair would wash just fine. Maybe she’d catch a cold, or maybe she’d die. Either way she wouldn’t have to do her chores for awhile.

“GINEVRA WEASLEY!” a shrill screech rent through the air as a full figured women stomped between the dangerously swaying trees with a boiling wrath that would have had grown men cowering in fright. Ginevra, as she was christened, glanced towards her mother nonchalantly, momentarily pulling her gaze from the rumbling clouds overhead to gage her mother’s displeasure. Her mother looked awfully dragonesque in the ghostly lighting, lightning in the distance drawing the flaming curls writhing with wrathful rage around her mothers ire filled face into stark contrast with her luminescent pale skin. Ginevra returned her eyes to the sky and wondered idly if perhaps her mum was secretly a dragon hidden in a curvaceous human form to escape the reserves meant to encage her. That seemed plausible enough to the five year old.

“Up! Up this instant,” thundered her mother in time with the storm. “Why aren’t you in the house already? Up!”

“Later,” the girl intoned forlornly as her mother loomed over her irately. “I’m busy being despondent.”

Molly Weasley glowered down at her youngest. “Well be despondent in the house then,” she snapped at the girl, reaching down to drag her to her feet, “You’re brother wouldn’t have done this nonsense.”

Ginevra merely sighed. There it was. The ‘Brother Comparison’. At five years old, Ginevra was already resigned that she would never live up to the high pedestal her younger sibling was set upon. She would never fill the cavernous expanse left by his departure for another world.

Stealing a glance back towards the patch of grass she’d occupied mere seconds before, she wished for a moment she could have laid there undisturbed and lost within the symphony of the storm for eternity where no long dead brother’s shadow could reach its dark arms across the void to haunt her from beyond the grave.

For five years Ginevra’s twin had been deceased, having died not long after his birth, and for five years Ginevra had toiled day in and day out with the ever present, proverbial ghost hanging around every corner, around every word. She wasn’t fully sure what she’d done to incur her mother’s resentment in the wake of his departure, but she had an ever growing suspicion that it was somehow her fault he hadn’t survived, her fault that she was here and he wasn’t.

Maybe her mum just didn’t like girls. That had to be it, the child decided as she silently trudged behind her fuming mother through the swaying orchard back towards the house. Her mother had tons of boys and she seemed to like all of them just fine. Maybe if Ginevra chopped all her her hair off with the scissors in the kitchen and told everyone to call her Geoffrey or something, her mum would like her better.

Yes. That’s what she would do, Ginevra resolved tilting her head back to get a good last look at the sky. It understood her anguish better then any other being could. She was sure of it. She knew if only she could communicate with the storm, it would understand her turbulent emotional upheaval, her desire to yell at the world for its cruelty.

Yes, she determined. The moment she had a chance she would take the scissors and shear off her long tresses.

Then her mother would love her.

___

Molly never got over her 7th son of a 7th son dying at birth from chronic magical exhaustion. he would have been super powerful if he lived and potentially brought back the family fortune that was lost to time. but he didn’t live ‘cause his magical nervous system developed for more magic then a double 7 son would have and Molly’s had her knickers in a twist ever since.

instead of a double 7 son she got a triple 7 child, Molly having been the 7th child in her family in the fic, but she’s ignorant to this ‘cause she’s kinda sexist along with the rest of the magical world. Ginny’s basically the next coming of Merlin and no one realizes since she’s a girl.

i planned out more of the story then that ‘cause i love planning out stories, but i always fail at sitting down and actually writing, so let me know if you want to hear more, or just go and write your own ٩(๑☆▿☆๑)ง

if you write this fic, send me the link so I can read and review. thnx (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

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kokkuri3 · 4 years

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I think VnC’s treatment of female characters is better than in PH, where most of them were props, tools to further the development of males, *coughLacieyoudeservedbetter*, tools to humanise the males *coughAdayoucan’tfixhimwithlove, endlessly forgiving and impossibly saintly *coughreallyAlyssyou’rejustgonnaforgiveJacklikethatyouarenotangryatall??*, amongst other problematic tropes.

VnC’s treatment of female characters is absolutely better than PH’s-- in fact, I’d say VnC was one of the few shounen manga to consistently treat its female characters with the same passion and respect as its male ones. One thing I say often is that VnC feels as thought it was written with Mochizuki having acknowledged PH’s problems (the complete lack of nonwhite characters, the continual mistreatment of female characters, the at times facetious treatment of issues such as incest or pedophilia which is... Not A Fan) and to that effect, I think she is making a deliberate effort to make multiple female characters with their own arcs which exist outside of men, who have important relationships with other women, who are capable of agency in the same capacity as their male counterparts.

This post isn’t really about VnC though so I’m not gonna sing its praises much anymore. I’ve talked before about how, despite being written by a woman, despite clearly acknowledging misogyny as a chronic problem among violent men PH is... not especially self aware when it comes to the misogyny of its own narrative.

I’ve made my thoughts on Lacie clear before (see here) and particularly how I believe her treatment was one of the times where PH’s treatment of women was particularly remarkable in that it’s good, despite her arc being drenched in misogynistic abuse and violence. I absolutely wish that the atrocities pinned on Lacie being not her fault was made more clear (aside from what I said in the post, and Oz saying that Lacie would never desire for the destruction of the world she loved) but I don’t think her writing itself was misogynistic-- I’d even go as far as to say it was feminist, though, obviously, I’m open to disagreement.

What most certainly does piss me off, however, is the writing of Ada’s arc. Yesterday I joked about Ada being the ‘anti-Lacie,’ and while it was a joke, I still intended some seriousness with it. Unlike Lacie, who was forced to constantly reevaluate her morals and the positions of her and her loved ones as a person whose existence was an inherent sin and who was abused throughout her life, Ada’s arc is built around the fact that she has never had to question anything. Similarly, while Lacie’s arc is about how she sought her own agency despite being surrounded by and allowed only those who were at best complacent in her suffering, Ada’s arc is about how... she continually sought out and apologized for a misogynistic predator despite being surrounded by better options.

The gender of the Core of the Abyss is something which I think warrants a separate post, but the official translation refers to the Core as being female, and for nearly the entire story she takes the form of a girl. Lacie reached out to an entity referred to and most often perceived as female, sought to understand her, and was abused as a specific consequence of this. Ada, meanwhile, made no real attempts at sympathy for her female counterparts. She never sought to question the circumstances of Noise, or Echo, or their relationship with Vincent. She gave forgiveness for crimes she had not been affected by nor did she even understand; her defense of Vincent was done not out of concern for Noise’s psyche but out of unquestioned pity for her abuser.

Ada’s arc bothers me for its utter lack of agency. She was a teenaged girl, expected to fix a predatory, abusive man in his twenties, and throughout her arc she is given no real means of choosing other options nor protecting herself. Her decision to defend a predator was not even an educated one; she simply did not know. Nor did she ever really come to understand anything about Vincent, aside from brief glimpses into his past. Ada is dragged around by the plot, pursuing an abuser she did not know was an abuser yet still felt sure she could heal, being forbidden from choice-- where she was not denied choice in the sense that she lacked the knowledge to make one, she was denied choice via other characters forbidding her. She was not allowed to protect Vincent though she wanted to because Vincent felt it was too dangerous to allow her to, she was not allowed to remain beside her friends and family though she wanted to because they felt it was too dangerous to allow her to, she wasn’t allowed to stay with Vincent because it was too dangerous, she wasn’t allowed to see him again because it was too dangerous... and she’s never given the choice to do anything but go along with it.

Alyss’s forgiveness of Jack is... a more complicated issue. That Ada “forgive” Vincent-- along with many of their other interactions, I might add-- felt utterly meaningless to me. Ada had never really perceived Vincent as performing a slight against her, being perfectly willing to assign any violence he committed against her as either her own fault, or part of his mental illness, thus Not His Fault. That Alyss forgive Jack, who was violent towards her, who she understood as victimizing her and others... I don’t like it, exactly, but at least it’s not the same.

I’m not sure “forgive” is even the correct word for what she did-- she acknowledged him, and she was gentle, but she never told Jack that she forgave him. Vincent’s dialogue during Retrace CIII supplements this in saying he suspects that Alyss’s feelings for Jack are the same as his own.

Vincent feels unable to either forgive Jack nor reject him entirely, feeling that he had done too much good for him to ever really hate him. Alyss, similarly, felt too strong a love for Jack to reject him outright. She never expressed sympathy for his actions, nor did she make any attempts to defend him. There was no misunderstanding on Alyss’s part on whether her love for Jack was unhealthy, but she loved him nonetheless. When she finally “finds” him, she offers no words of kindness. She simply expressed her gratitude in having done so before calling him a hopelessly lonely man, making no further attempts at even acknowledging him.

Of course, there is the inherent misogyny of a character arc about a young girl infatuated with an adult man, to the point of destroying her other relationships in pursuit of it. That Alyss was deliberately isolated and that Jack be the only person aside from the other Alice and the Core of Abyss-- two entities that cannot be meaningfully separated from herself-- is an obvious contributor, but that does not erase the problematic aspects of her arc. Then there’s the matter of Alyss’s wish to die being the only one treated as though it was a necessary evil, as opposed to a reflection of the individual’s personal instability that should be addressed through supporting them as opposed to killing them. It’s sort of an unfair double standard, and that the plot make Alyss’s death a necessary evil is a matter of author choice, not something inherent to the work.

On the topic of other instances of misogynistic writing in PH as a whole, there’s the matter of Alice and Sharon’s arc. While I don’t think either arc is in itself misogynistic, both characters are totally ignored in favor of their male counterparts. Despite Alice being one of the most important characters in the series, she has almost no narration and is frequently characterized as, to quote a friend of mine, a “feral animal.” She’s not given the same emotional or psychological depth as Oz or Gil, despite having around the same number of appearances and being the plot’s catalyst. Sharon has her own arc, theoretically, but we only ever see it within the context of Break or Reim despite being more of a main character than the latter. That Sharon spend entire volumes not appearing a single time is a recurring joke. A major part of her characterization-- that she feel insecure in relationships due to her halted aging-- is not revealed until the last chapter of the comic. Her arc ends with her marrying to a character who... I wouldn’t have been upset if the two of them had had any real interactions outside of Break, but they didn’t. There’s no inherent problem with their relationship except it’s boring and rushed.

Then there’s the matter of the sheer number of female versus male characters whose purpose in the plot is to die violently-- the Flower Girl, Vanessa Nightray, Bernice Nightray, Miranda Barma, Mary, etc. All of these characters did little or nothing to actually progress the plot, and all are murdered by a male character with the exception of the Flower Girl (who is a sex worker in the anime adaptation, and while I don’t know the canonicity of that, I feel it worth mentioning).

Ultimately, PH suffers a lot for Mochizuki’s internalized misogyny. Her narrative seems over eager to forgive perpetrators of misogynistic violence, and in many ways over eager to characterize sympathetic men as misogynists. A Pandora Hearts without its themes of misogyny seems... nearly incomprehensible, though that’s in large part because of how meticulous the narrative as a whole is. The improvements Mochizuki has made subsequently, though, are noticeable and greatly appreciated.

#pandora hearts #answers #gisellehexen89 #OP I am you #ph spoilers #abuse ment #This is REALLY long so I put it under a readmore #Pandora Hearts huh..........#ph #mochijun #animanga

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xseildnasterces · 3 years

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gypsy.

It’s been a rough few day for me mentally. I’m not sure why I’ve felt how I have, but I feel like I need to write about it anyway and get all my feelings out somewhere, and here seems like the best place. Sunday was perfect. H, M and F picked me up in the morning and we went for a wander on the island in the middle of DC and Virginia. It was a wonderful place that I had never been for. I have always wanted to visit, but because the only way to enter is from the Virginia side it has always seemed a bit too much of a walk to get there in the first place, so I really appreciated H’s suggestion to go. It’s a beautiful little island, it’s full of trees, wildlife and surrounded by the river. It was so lovely to be surrounded by nature for the first time in quite a while and I even saw a bird that I had never seen before. A bright red cardinal! I am not a bird person at all, but I must admit that seeing something in the wild that you cannot see in the UK makes me excited no mater what it is. The centre of the island has a memorial to the island’s namesake, President Theodore Roosevelt. It was such a beautiful sunny day, and by the time we had got to the centre it was so hot we needed to take off some layer. Jeans were a regret, but I was so glad that I had a small t-shirt on. F was hilarious as always. She’s so sassy and can be a little bit naughty sometimes but she is so funny and stubborn and her coming to sit with me to get away from her mum and dad was highly amusing. She was so excited to see me which was lovely, and I just had such a wonderful day.

I got home mid afternoon and I didn’t have the energy for anything. I’m not sure if that was partly due to getting the vaccine – I have heard that a lot of people have suffered from some form of fatigue a few days after the first dose, or whether it was just my general chronic fatigue and the fact I’d over exerted myself for the first time in ages. Regardless, I pretty much got in, curled up on the sofa and fell asleep for three hours! As always, I was annoyed with myself for ‘wasting the day’ and perhaps that contributed to my emotional mood downfall. I became an absolute emotional mess. I had no want to do anything, I lay around on the sofa, the floor and the bed just feeling super depressed. I think it’s probably the most depressed and down I have felt in quite a while. I felt lonely, my head was on a downward spiral and I just didn’t know how to be, how to feel or what to do with myself. I decided to just get in bed to try and sleep it off. I cried a bit, felt sorry for myself and lay down what feelings that I could in my line-a-day diary. I woke up on Monday feeling a little bit better but still a little out of it an emotional. I think another contribution to my over emotional mood right now is hormones. It hasn’t even been two weeks since my last period and I’m on another one. My body is clearly on a rollercoaster of its own right now and my emotions are going with it.

Something else which I even feel embarrassed to admit also upset me the last few days. R and I voice message every single day and it makes me so happy to have that ongoing connection with someone who is so important to me, but in this, we talk about many different topics and sometimes say or react to things that the other may not ‘love’. Something I have learnt in therapy though is not hold back on reactions if something hurts or upsets you because it’s the best way to build on your connections. I have also learnt that R will never abandon me. People that really love you will listen when you are hurt, sad, struggling, or whatever else and still be there at the end of it. The relationship I have with R is not one I think I have with anyone else. We are able to say exactly what we think and tell each other should either of us upset each other. Anyway, after writing a huge preface to what I actually wanted to say… here we go. We were talking about weddings, not that either of us are getting married any time soon (or maybe not ever), but a lot of people we know from school have recently got married so it was just a topic of conversation. Whenever R has talked about her wedding, she has said she would have myself and her sister as her bridesmaids. It’s something I’ve always looked forward to and felt excited about, however, she told me the other day that she has some other friends who keep telling her how sad they would be should they not be chosen to be her bridesmaid. Therefore, because of this, she has now decided to not have any bridesmaids, and this really upset me. She said to me on the phone, that should she be able to without upsetting people it would be me, but I think that’s part of what upset me – knowing that she would want me but because of upsetting other people she would rather have none, yet that upsets me. I told her how I felt, but then we sort of dropped the conversation because on my side I didn’t really want to talk about it or feel down about it anymore. It made me feel really low and depressed on a lot of levels. As always, my abandonment fear and my lack of belief in my ability to make friends came up and left me feeling incredibly alone and unworthy of friendship. I feel like I’ve wrote about my feelings on this so many times, but for some reason I do not seem to be able to rid myself of these negative thoughts.

I discussed a lot of these feelings in therapy this week. We talked about connections in group and how I use group to learn more about myself and my ability to engage with people and make friends and connections. I’m not really sure how to do that but talking it all out felt quite good and I really enjoyed my therapy session. Once again what I was talking about regarding my feelings and thoughts over the last few days led to my therapist focusing on abandonment, past relationships and friendships… and also my constant worry and panic about saying ‘the wrong thing’. This came up in group last week as well and it’s something that I certainly find myself repeating over and over. We also discussed it in group today and a lot of others resonated with me which really made me feel validated and less alone. I constantly worry about this when meeting new people. I don’t ever think I have pretended to be anyone else or another persona, but I do think I sometimes don’t say exactly what I’m thinking, simply because I don’t want someone to not like me. I never used to be like this. I think it comes from feeling as though I have lost so many people from my life and feeling that the problem must lie with me. On explaining – in detail – all the situations in which I have ‘lost’ people, my therapist tells me that I am not the problem, nor has it been my fault in the majority of these occasions. I do very much believe that if people want to be in your life, they will find a way to be, no matter what. I have learnt the hard way that by this way of thinking there has been a lot of people who have passed through my life and did not want to stay. I also feel that distance should not make a difference to your friendship. R and I have maintained a friendship for over 15+ years, in which ten of those we didn’t live in the same town, and sometimes not the same country, nor continent. Effort in any type of relationship has to work two ways and I have come to realise that clearly some people do not like me enough or care about our relationship enough to put in the effort. I say all this, but I still struggle with accepting it. I struggle to accept that not everyone feels like me and wants to maintain their friendships. I also struggle with accepting that this is life and I am not the ‘problem’. Gah, life.

Last nights dreams were beyond weird. I had three in a row yet can only remember two. The first was myself and my high school boyfriend hanging out in a field. It seemed like we were at a festival, and we were laying on the grass. We were chatting and talking, and he was constantly looking around as though he was hiding from someone. The dream became odd when it was almost as though I was above the scene watching what was going on. The me that was laying on the grass fell asleep, and whilst I was asleep the guy ran off to join some other girl. That girl was the girl he dated for a while in high school when we stopped seeing each other, yet at the same time was still hanging out with me. It was very strange, and I have no idea what any of this means. I felt a feeling of sadness, but also extreme confusion. In the dream, I woke up and found myself surrounded by a bunch of people, some of who I think were other people from school, but I cannot quite remember. The second dream featured N. It was a very bizarre scene. We were both in a theatre and appeared to be practising for a performance. In the dream we had not seen each other for a few years, and I was shocked to see her there. There was a lot to the dream and I really wish that I had written it all down this morning as I cannot remember it all now. But the two of us where the leads in the show and there was a scene that we had to practise that had us staring into each other’s eyes and having a super deep conversation. We were both crying going through a really long monologue and then she turned to the… director(?) and said, ‘That’s it, I’ve got it. I’ve got my closure’. Once everyone had left the rehearsal, we sat together on the stage swinging our legs and we sat with our heads tilted on each other’s shoulders. We were both sad and emotional and eventually jumped down from the stage and hugged each other tightly before we looked at each other again and left the theatre. I then had the other dream that I now cannot remember. It was a very weird, long night of dreams. I wish there was a scientific reason for why we dream about certain things. I would love to understand my dreams better. I have so many dream books but fail to see if any of it is based on science or whether it is purely a mash up of lots of different memories all put into a new ‘story’ or dream. I think this is perhaps something I want to investigate. My dreams led me to other thoughts that I have quite often. Wondering if anyone that used to be in my life in any capacity ever think about me. Do I ever cross E’s mind? Does Re miss me? What about A, L, N or H? Do they wish I was still in their life? This is something I think I’m going to follow up on with R in my voice messages tonight. I wonder if she thinks this about people too. Am I the only person that thinks about the people who used to be pig parts of my life, or is this something that everyone thinks about and goes over in their heads? Is it something they only think about when they are sad and low? Or like me, is it something that feels to be playing on repeat in their head? It’s sad, and it’s frustrating. I’m also really missing human touch. I haven’t touched another human (not including massage, facial and medical appointments) since hugging goodbye before entering the airport back in January, and even then, because of covid I had to hug goodbye in the car.

My sister is driving me up the wall at the moment. She’s finally finished her quarantine and has had two negative covid tests so will be surprising my parents tomorrow. She’s making the whole situation way more difficult and complicated than it needs to be. She’s insisting that both my parents need to see her at the same time. I’ve told her, in what world are two grown people going to wander to the front door together? Are they really going to go two-by-two? No, they aren’t. She also keeps asking me really stupid questions and I’m just frustrated with her. I want tomorrow to go well and for my mum and dad to be happy to see her, which I know they will be, but I also know its going to be hard for them to deal with her and her mood swings. I know she’s going to be a nightmare in regard to her room being decorated and I just feel sorry for my parents having to deal with that when she gets home after two years away and of causing constant worry. I’m genuinely anxious for my parents.

[Blog title: Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac].

#me #personal #life #update #thought #thoughts #feeling #feelings #diary #journal #write #writing #dreams #memory #memories #relationships #friendships #anxiety #gyspy #fleetwood mac

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creativerogues · 7 years

Text

100 Instant NPC Agendas

When running campaign encounters, especially in a town or city environment, count on players to surprise you by seeking out encounters with walk-on NPCs you haven’t detailed.

Whether their characters want to speak to merchants, burghers, servants, or criminals, this list of instant personalities and agendas is perfect for surprise NPCs.

Don’t bother to create an interesting character for every single encounter.

Many scenes are best left short and sweet, allowing you to move on to an entertaining scene that relates to the main adventure.

Every so often, you should throw in a memorable character whose agenda has nothing to do with the main plot.

This creates the illusion that your world is a living, complex place, not a mere backdrop for the adventurers’ activities.

Often, players remember these improvised characters and come back to them, weaving them into the ongoing story of your campaign.

Accusatory: believes the PCs are up to something, and isn’t shy about saying so.

Apologetic: desperately seeks the PCs’ forgiveness for a minor error, real or imagined.

Attentive: fixates on one PC, whom he tries to impress at the rest of the party’s expense.

Authoritarian: sees herself as the PCs’ superior and expects their head-nodding respect.

Avuncular: feels he’s learned life’s lessons and is eager to heap advice on any young person who will listen.

Battle-ready: seeks advice on an upcoming duel (or other confrontation) with an old enemy.

Blinkered: fixes on an idea or course of action and won’t abandon it.

Boastful: wants the PCs to know how rich, strong, important, famous, or admired she is.

Cautious: terrified of making a mistake.

Chatty: loves to hear himself talk.

Chronicler: an amateur historian seeking information for the book she’s writing.

Clumsy: keeps dropping things or knocking them over and is too flustered to help the PCs.

Conspiratorial: plotting a crime or rebellion and wonders if the PCs are likely recruits.

Contrarian: eager to show his independence from conventional wisdom.

Cowed: won’t do anything that might arouse the wrath of an intimidating superior.

Cranky: has dealt with idiots all day and is sure she’s looking at another bunch of them.

Deluded: convinced he is a grand hero trapped in an ordinary person’s body, and wants the PCs to help him recover his real identity.

Despises locals: treats outsiders well and locals badly.

Drunkard: completely inebriated but does not want anyone to catch on .

Easily offended: constantly looking out for insults, which she will imagine if necessary.

Efficient: wants to cut to the heart of the matter, resolving it as quickly as possible.

Egotistical: wants to be flattered.

Embittered: recently lost a legal judgment and wants to complain about it at length.

Ensorcelled: a grand hero, trapped in an ordinary person’s body, who wants the PCs to help him recover his real identity.

Exhausted: tired and simply wants to go home.

Fashion-conscious: interested only in who’s got the finest clothing.

Fatalistic: willing to help the PCs because nothing really matters, anyway.

Flirtatious: wants to test his or her charm on a PC of the opposite sex with a high Charisma.

Forbidding: takes pleasure in refusing requests.

Forgetful: wants to help the party, but must overcome a faulty memory to do so.

Giddy: has just received wonderful news and wants the PCs to celebrate his good fortune with him.

Glutton: wants the PCs to envy the incredible meal she is about to eat.

Gossipy: loves salacious and embarrassing information and happily shares what he knows in exchange for equally juicy rumors.

Greedy: knows adventurers are rich and wonders how she can extract the maximum amount of coin from them.

Gregarious: wants the PCs to think of him as their new best friend.

Grieving: wants to be left alone to mourn a loved one who has just died.

Guarded: will do anything to avoid seeming weak or vulnerable.

Guilty: has committed a sin or crime unrelated to the plot and is sure the PCs are onto him.

Harried: late for an important appointment and wants to get rid of the PCs as quickly as possible.

Healthy: swears by a cousin’s foul-tasting cure-all elixir, urging the PCs to purchase some.

Helpful: eager to please, perhaps to a fault.

Hero-worshiping: wants to hear all about the biggest, toughest creature the party ever fought.

Homesick: comes from abroad and wants the PCs to agree that her homeland is much better than this place.

Idealistic: wishes to enlist the PCs in a pet cause.

Impatient: wants to take action right now.

Importunate: tries to win a favor from the PCs through blatant begging.

Impostor: wants to keep secret the fact that she is a disguised rogue, doppelganger, or other entity posing as the real NPC.

Insecure: believes that people think him stupid and wants to prove otherwise.

Intimidating: wants others to acknowledge how dreadful and imposing she is.

Jaded: has seen and done it all and wants the PCs to know that their problems mean nothing to him.

Jester: wants the group to laugh at her terrible jokes.

Jolly: gregarious, wants to befriend the PCs and take them home to meet his family.

Laconic: tries to use as few words as possible.

Lonely: wants the PCs to be her best friends.

Loud: very helpful, but speaks in a disconcertingly loud voice.

Lovelorn: powerfully infatuated and hopes to enlist the PCs in a quest for his true love’s heart.

Loyal: respects and admires the PCs’ current adversary or object of inquiry and would sooner die than commit an act of betrayal.

Machiavellian: tries to involve the PCs in a complicated scheme to gain power or harm an enemy.

Matchmaker: always on the lookout for a suitable spouse for a hapless relative.

Melancholy: saddened by the state of the world and wants the PCs to share her gloom.

Mopey: feels that he’s an unrecognized genius and wants the PCs to show that they understand him.

Nervous: believes that all adventurers are murderous scoundrels and wants to get away from the PCs as soon as she can without offending them.

Nihilistic: secretly worships a dark deity of decay and destruction who will be pleased if the NPC brings about the party’s ruin.

Nosy: wants to know everything there is to know about the PCs, because this is her way of showing friendly interest in others.

Oracular: has a premonition about the PCs and wishes to share it.

Outlandish: fears he’s boring and tries to seem fascinatingly crazy.

Pacifistic: aids the PCs only toward peaceful ends.

Patriotic: wants everyone to love her king and country as much as she does.

Patronizing: views the PCs as common street rabble and condescends to them.

Picayune: corrects any minor mistake or mispronunciation the PCs make.

Pious: wishes to communicate his great devotion to his deity.

Prejudiced: irrationally despises one of the PCs on sight due to race, class, or another superficial trait.

Public spirited: loves the area, wants to improve it, and urges the PCs to do the same.

Puckish: seeks amusement, preferably at the PCs’ expense.

Pugnacious: looking for an argument on any topic whatsoever.

Quiet: speaks in a barely audible voice and recoils if the PCs don’t do the same.

Rebellious: wants to enlist the PCs in some troublemaking.

Resentful: wants to complain about a stupid or annoying superior.

Scattered: wants to help but loses focus unless carefully supervised.

Self-obsessed: steers any conversation back to his favorite subject: himself.

Servile: considers himself the PCs’ inferior and is disquietingly dedicated to aiding them.

Shifty: has done something terrible, and the more innocent she tries to appear, the more guilty she seems.

Sick: suffers from a chronic malady and anxiously shares details of its symptoms.

Skeptical: disbelieves anything remotely questionable the PCs say.

Smitten: infatuated with a PC of the opposite sex with a high Charisma, and wants to please him or her.

Smug: believes he’s clearly the best at what he does.

Solemn: responds well to serious talk, but badly to jokes and trivialities.

Spiteful: nurses a grudge against the PCs’ current adversary or object of inquiry and will say anything that increases their chances of harming him.

Territorial: doesn’t want the PCs getting too close to her or her possessions.

Thick: wants to help but is too dumb to do it.

Treasure-seeking: has found a treasure map and wants the PCs to help him recover the loot.

Trivial: wishes to demonstrate her mastery of irrelevant minor facts.

Trusting: believes anything the PCs tell him.

Unreliable: makes outlandish promises that she has no intention of keeping.

Vengeful: was recently robbed or assaulted and wants the PCs to thrash the perpetrator.

Violent: looking for a scrap against safely inferior opponents.

Wagerer: bets on anything.

Worried: wants to talk about how badly the kingdom has gone downhill in the past few years.

Xenophobic: treats locals well and outsiders badly.

#dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons #dnd 5e #dnd 3.5 #table #community #comments #communityresponse #CreativeRogues

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xylianna · 6 years

Note

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 I have had a lot of rum today and will totally star for star with you....of course I will probably be sober by the time you get to this... MORNING RUM IT IS!!!!

48 STARS? SERIOUSLY DO YOU WANT MY LIFE STORY? CAUSE YOU’RE ABOUT TO GET IT.

1. my first pet was a rabbit named Carmel

2. my first cat was a yellow tabby named Orlith (Moreta’s queen dragon in the Dragonriders of Pern books)

3. my other two cats have been named Wolf and Lynx. Wolf is my old lady cat, 18 years old. Lynx I had to rehome when I moved a few years ago. Orlith died years ago, the poor thing.

4. I learned how to hunt because I live in an area that is THE THING and also animals are tasty. I spent hours tracking a damn pheasant on my first hunt but because of my shitty eyesight/lack of depth perception, couldn’t see it, so my dad shot it. He still credited me with the kill since I tracked it.

5. I like to go fishing, if by fishing you mean “sit on the boat and read a book because its pretty on the water”

6. I like spreadsheets a little too much. Google Sheets means I can have them EVERYWHERE.

7. I love to sing, and its the one thing I’m actually a bit arrogant about. At least, I feel like its arrogance. Maybe its just being truthful? I have a really good voice. I trained it for a lot of years. it’s one of the few things I can do that almost always lifts my mood.

8. I hadn’t seen any live concerts in ages, and then in 2016 I saw Final Fantasy A New World and the Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses

9. I have next to no confidence in anything outside my singing and it still boggles my mind that people like my writing. this isn’t me fishing for compliments, I’m honestly astounded. I read other people’s stuff and I’m blown away that those same people like mine, when theirs is just so fucking amazing.

10. sometimes I go anywhere between a day or a week without contacting anybody just to see if anyone bothers to talk to me if I don’t reach out first. the results usually make me more sad than before I tried. and make me question most my ‘friendships’.

11. I’ve been single for two years and I kinda hate it, but don’t expect it to change anytime soon. part of the reason is i’m picky AF. most of the reason is I have little to no social life.

12. I’m pagan and I am deeply spiritual but I generally don’t discuss it at all if I’m not asked by a close friend, because to me spirituality and religion is DEEPLY personal

13. I have never slept with a woman who hasn’t decided afterwards that she’s straight. this is probably why I’ve dated so few women. while logically I know there’s no correlation between my performance and their declarations (especially as my more recent ex-gf is dating another woman now), its still a pretty big ego blow.

14. Sorry I just answering this to sing for like 10 minutes. Currently trying to type while singing “Missing” by Evanescence. ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!

15. i hate going to movies alone and will actively buy people tickets just so I don’t have to

16. I hate cooking for just me when my son isn’t home, so instead I tend to batch cook and freeze a bunch to enable lazy dinners down the road

17. I’m a really good cook :D

18. Tomorrow I play D&D! I play once a month with a small group of family and friends. This is the third group I’ve had for the same campaign and I don’t think I’ll ever see the end at this rate, haha.

19. I also play WoW. In WoW, I play Xylianna, the Paladin. In D&D I play a Fighter. I like swords okay?

20. work sucked this week but I have rum now :D

21. I had cancer when I was 17. In 2 months will be my 18th anniversary of being cancer free. I celebrate that more than my birthday, or my wedding anniversary before I was divorced. Nothing gets you to pare the bullshit out of your life faster than getting that diagnosis, let me tell you.

22. HOW THE FUCK AM I ONLY ON NUMBER 22 WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME *gets a third drink*

23. In my local kink community, my ‘scene name’ is one of my first OTP’s.

24. If 23 didn’t warn you, I’m going to talk about BDSM now. I’m a switch insofar as I’ll top without any real hint of dominance since I LOATHE the responsibility of being a dom. Iggy in Discretion/What Would Happen is totally based off me, because I vastly prefer to give over control since my entire fucking life is me running everything. I run my dept at work, I run my house, I run my gaming group, I run my karaoke group. Sometimes I just need a break okay?

25. also gimme dat pain

26. and I’ll give you some, too, because I enjoy service topping

27. Consent is Sexy, okay? I go out of my way to portray consent being constantly re-established in my bdsm fics particularly, because its never okay to assume that just because I was allowed to do X last week, its okay to do X this week. I mean obviously in an established relationship, it would be different, but even then CONSENT AND COMMUNCATION, SO FUCKING SEXY

28. I wish I could play a string instrument. I bought a guitar and tried to learn it but it turns out I am not good at teaching myself something so different from what I already know, haha. Chords are confusing to me for some reason. Or I made them more confusing than they had to be.

29. I am embarrassed to admit how many years its been since I picked up one of my clarinets. I wish I could find a local ensemble to join, but, that would mean reaching out and asking and aahhhhhh *hides*

30. I would also totally lose my shit if I could find a choral group to join that wasn’t attached to a Christian church. no offense at all to christian churches, but I feel a bit dishonest joining a group connected to a faith I don’t share, you know?

31. when I go to xmas eve church with my mom at her church, my brother-in-law’s mother does indeed make me join choir for that night, and its great!

32. i’m intensely lonely most of the time but I pretend i’m not because indulging in the feeling won’t change anything. and tbh part of it is my fault for isolating myself.

33. I have chronic severe depressive disorder coupled with a side of anxiety. So I feel like shit, and I worry about it, LOL

34. Prior to November 2017 NaNoWriMo, I hadn’t written in over 10 years, save for a couple 300ish word short stories.

35. part of me is terrified certain family members will find my AO3/Tumblr. I actually talked to my psychologist about this fear at my last appointment. We agreed that if they go to so much trouble as to find my internet alter ego, they deserve to be offended by my work. Fuck ‘em.

36. just once I wish I could feel the support I give my family given to me. I have one supportive family member and its not even blood. my brother-in-law is my best friend, for real. my Warder (if you follow WoT), bonded in balefire. I wish the rest of my family would care about me, but I’m working on accepting they just won’t.

37. I love learning languages for the same reason I love studying music, and I love writing - my goal is to communicate as effectively as possible, make people really understand, and the more avenues open to me the better

38. when I get a little drunk, I forget English and speak a mashup of Spanish, German, and Japanese

39. I have to go to karaoke tomorrow night for the first time since I was sexually harassed at karaoke last October, and I’m kinda terrified

40. I get very down on myself when I realize in my writing I do no world building and very little serious plotting. I basically write angst, or love, or smut. I’m trying to be okay with that, but I admit I feel like I don’t do a good enough job.

41. wow way to kill the mood, Xy. honestly, if anyone is still reading this, you get a fucking medal. i’m not that interesting, and I probably should have stopped writing this long ago.

42. I really wish life would give me a fucking break, you know? but that’s not how it works. you gotta make your own breaks, and I’m too gods-damned tired to try at present. Maybe I’ll try later this year.

43. I wish I lived alone. Ironic, since I’m lonely 99% of the time. But having a roommate isn’t the same as having companionship and sometimes I just want to not listen to someone else’s blaring TV or have someone else walk thru the house while I’m writing at the table or have someone comment on my singing (even if its complimentary)

44. WOW I GOT DEPRESSED LETS LIGHTEN THINGS UP SHALL WE? I love apple scented shit.

45. I own at least 10 pairs of kitty ears, and two tails. In fact I am wearing ears to karaoke tomorrow. Meow.

46. I want the relationship I write for Gladnis in my Discretion series BUT I’M NOT HOLDING MY BREATH FAM

47. my son is 8 yrs old and he’s honestly the best thing i’ve done with my life, and he is the thing I am most proud of, even topping my joy in beating cancer

48. in 2016 I lost 120 pounds. in 2017 i gained 30 back. in 2018… we’ll see.

HOLY FUCK THAT WAS HARD I DESERVE MORE RUM NOW OKAY

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brokenhayatim · 4 years

Text

exhale

idk how long this is gonna be but it goes a little something like this. you ever been so afraid of failing that you just procrastinate and avoid for so long? each day you tell yourself you’ll finally suck it up and push through but the fear and anxiety are almost so paralyzing you don’t even wanna go near the task.

i’s just been months..like maybe even five at this rate. i tell myself to start the clock the day i graduated but i know the truth. the last year-ish was my idkwhatimdoingwithmylifeohmygod era and i just thought i passed it with a bit more advice and options. but it’s like it was all almost pretty bubbles and they just popped so long ago that i’m lost and confused and afraid and nervous and all of that is so ridiculous, it embarrasses me. i’m not really that lazy but i say it to try and explain alot, i think. or i say that i’m just relaxing or something, when i know everyday my thoughts are always on this same thing and never being good enough to get through the rut. it wasnt till i was on a walk, voice memo-ing a friend and the anxiety just peeked through a bit and i was hearing my own thoughts aloud like ....thats true? and i’m told to not be afraid and to just let whatever happens happen if it’s best for me and i know that but i also dont?

everyday i constantly think about deleting every single social media app i’m on bc i feel this heavy weight of uselessness and incompetence. why couldn’t i have learned things like this person or been more out there like that person?what’s wrong with me? and i begin to rationalize it with my childhood and how i was raised and it never is fulfilling. it’s constantly not enough, nothing about me is. i’m not creative at all and what i can do, so many can do better and so why would anyone actually pick me? even the things and issues i’m passionate about, what do i really know? even my knowledge seems so below average and it’s confusing and stressful. i feel like if someone asked me a question about anything right now that i’ve just forgotten everything important and couldn’t even articulate a proper response. and i wanted to be an activist??? since i have to interview for jobs online now bc the pandemic it’s made me so nervous. i feel most in my element during in person interviews and i say that as someone that’s also awkward and nervous in the room. but i’m more anxious of the constant string of rejections i know i’m gonna receive now bc i can barely speak english and there’s nothing special about me at all. at least in person, i can smile and make it less weird. and i connect so much better that way, which loosens me up .000009% more. it’s really babyish i guess bc everyone is adjusting and i’m just not. and i thought i was with everything but i guess i really wasnt. and coming home everytime makes me fall back into this person i dont like ad i get so sluggish (my sister says its the trauma) and i dont know bc one day she’s waking up in florida and being a good semi productive human and the next she’s back in new york and its many low days and nerves. honestly the way this house sucks the life out of me, i dont even think i’d be good at any remote job. it’s kinda the reason half my brain is pushing the dead part bc i want to leave. be more self-sufficient and alone again. but where and how, you know? obvs im gonna need a job for that. it’s just this domino effect and i’m scared to push the first one and it’s annoying and i hate it goddaammit. the moment i came home, i just have always felt unworthy and other to my family. like they don;t care, like they’re not proud, like i’ve done nothing these past years and that’s my fault for not being an open book like the rest.

i’m gonna have to edit this bc i will not remember 87 months worth of pandemic thoughts into this post right now but. i tell myself i came home and decided to take a break for a bit, or focused on my health and appointments, but really..i dont know. i think i say it to justify all these hollow days of disappointment, which it never does. i’m afraid to ask for help or even a nice job recommendation from my last employer bc all i can think about is that it’s been months and what have i been doing this whole time? and i think they’ll ask that or think ??? now ??? and i get in my head. i know its not illogical and the worst anyone can say is no and yada yada but ugh this is why i hate my mind and just overthinking ... or not thinking?? who knows. i’m constantly letting myself down but .., i dont want anyone to know that. does that make sense. maybe i have this need to be superficial and make my life seem so nice and good and right bc i never see myself as that and i worry of people’s opinions and crave affirmations.

the first appt i had coming home was my neurosurgeon one and my dad and him sort of just had this rushed timeline in their heads of how i would go into the ER one day soon and bam its done. i didnt wanna think about that so i tried to focus on my job stuff .. then got stressed so i just started scheduling the appointments i needed. then stopped and did more work stuff. then the secretary called me like ???? u havent done these exams yet and i was like yeah uhhh. bc when i do them it’s one step closer to doing the surgery and i know i want the surgery i’m just getting in my head again and don’t want it to be now. my sister told me to make sure i let her know when i choose a date and i was like mhm i wanna finish the job stuff and get my life sorted first and she was just ???? what ?? this is clearly more important. but here’s the kicker. i went on a walk the other day and just cried coming to terms with it all bc honestly i still dream of not making it out alive and a part of me thinks, at least if i did this one thing right and found a job and all that, that it would okay what happens next. like at least i was successful in that one thing. i think about how unworthy and unproud i am of myself and for months now, just felt like this would be a beautifully cowardice way out. and i think about the after, and cant even imagine strong devastation and sorrow. is that strange? like i expect everyone to just go on. bc i’m a simple buffer with no real purpose left. i walk and think about dreams and hopes and what i would miss and just one thing that make me call this entire fantasy completely insane and i just draw blank. so i cry because, of course. this fantasy isn’t new either, since last year i’ve been speaking to my therapist and writing about it. we would speak of suicide and i always respond like that’s a huge no bc of my religion but i say, i think about if something went wrong and that was it, how i want it to be like that. take the pressure, take the blame, take it all off me in a way. and some days i’m scared that i’ll wake up in the hospital bed after and be in pain and coddled and annoyed by the attention i’m only getting bc of that pain. and i dont want you to be here just because of the pain but i feel like you’re here only because of that. that you came, that you’re seeing me, that you care only because of it. so what am i without it? just back to nothing? the headaches were lonely but i feel less lonely with this diagnosis, like i have something good about me, worthy about me. something that makes me important to someone, even if it’s the neurologist that wants my money. to be real, i dont even think i care about the pain leaving as much as the fact that i can’t label myself as this person with chronic pain. like even if i was cured and oo lala all better, a part of me would still want to have this neuro condition. like ?? i was thinking: imagine beating cancer and feeling better but wanting to say .. and then realized the key difference. with that you survive, you are survivor. even if it’s gone that who you are. when this leaves me, i’m nothing and i’ll just go back to being nothing. no one says u survived brain surgery or survived a brain condition. it’s just done and forgotten. there’s nothing exciting about my life other than my mri visits i swear. i decided to do the surgery bc it would be stupid of me not to, and i’m still holding back, still unsure of even a set month. i just know i didnt want to follow covid rules of 1 visitor bc i know it would be one of my parents and i would jump out the window myself. but covid isnt rlly going away so is that the best excuse i have? i havent thought past these appointments and its almost like im doing it all for the wrong reasons, like enjoying it rather than wanting it to help me. i dont know.

unrelated but a song that always makes me cry and is actually the song i was listening to when i had that panic attack on the plane: finally by james arthur around 2:30. always brings out the hollowness in me hm.

**** i’m coming back to this but i got all my plaguing thoughts outish so

#asiya's thoughts

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 7 years

Text

On the issue of Spider-Man’s guilt

Essentially Stan Lee overexagerated it for two reasons

a) The character was young and thus would naturally exaggerate that sense of angst and guilt although if you actually look at Stan’s run Peter doesn’t bang on about guilt nearly as much as you might, think especially compared to say Slott’s run (where you get bullshit like this)

b) It was written by 1960s Stan Lee who generally speaking exaggerated ALL of the emotions with his characters simply because he and his crew had tapped into the idea of superhumans with human emotions and consequently overmilked those emotions for all they were worth most of the time

Consequently other writers who held up Stan’s run as sacred followed in his lead and many of them didn’t bother to adjust the degree of Peter’s guilt and emotions because they were trying to replicate Stan’s stuff despite Peter’s maturity and the changing writing standards of consequent decades making that portrayal illogical.

However (from an in-universe POV) when you REALLY think about Peter’s character the assertion that he has like crippling guilt issues that he needs like major herepy to address or he’s stunted in his growth as evidenced by those feelings of guilt (because they look immature) doesn’t quite add up.

First of all...his Dad died when he was 15 years old due to a situation that Peter could have prevented but didn’t due to selfishness and arrogance.

it didn’t help that his Dad and his now widowed mother were essentially saints who were the best parents of all time to him and he’d contributed to the death of one of them and as ramifications of that whilst emotionally scarred the other, threw her into financial straits, increased her levels of stress and all that shit helped put her already dodgy health into a less stable state. A state that grew so serious that he gave her a blood transfusion only for that cure to wind up being worse than the disease as it literally gave her radiation poisoning and nearly killed her.

And did I mention they were both sweet old people who probably would’ve retired much earlier had they not had to raise him.

THEN in later life he accidentally kills his girlfriend who was in an extremely life threatening situation specifically due to her association with him.

This isn’t even addressing all the other times people in his life have been endangered or sometimes harmed due to their association with him.

And all thisstuff happened to him from age 15 onwards.

Bearing all that in mind is it any WONDER Peter has a tendency to blame himself for things, even things that aren’t strictly speaking his fault?

Is that really teenage angst and immaturity he never grew out of or is it actually a the perfectly natural mindset of someone who’s lived these particular life experiences?

That being said in all honesty the degree to which Spidey’s angst and guilt are played p fluctuates between writers and stories, sometimes to the point where he’s portrayed with an uncharacteristic LACK of guilt.

If you follow his character leading up to say just before the Mackie/Byrne reboot in 1998/1999 there was actually a relatively linear progression for his character where the guilt and tendency t blame himself was still there but it was handled with greater maturity and wasn’t coming across as (at face value) ‘juvenile’ as in earlier stories.

But it goes beyond that because if you think about it...how guilt ridden is Spider-Man REALLY?

We know that for all the times he’s had a few nightmares it’s not like he rarely gets a good night’s sleep (Spidey needs less than the full 8 hours of most people due to his super powers, but nevertheless he’s hardly walking around tired out most of the time).

Despite the instances where associating with him has endangered the people in his life he still maintains those interpersonal relationships.

Despite even Gwen’s death he continued to date after she died and never even questioned doing that in regards to endangering those women’s lives, even when early in his relationship with MJ (the first relationship he had after Gwen died) Ms Watson was hospitalized due to an explosion meant for Peter as HIS apartment.

Hell there have even been instances where peter has allowed criminals to escape for one reason or another. Most of the time you can justify it but on the occasions where he’s ruminated and felt guilty about this after the fact he’s never seemed AS guilt ridden as you’d naturally think given his origin story.

Can this be accounted for by simple human nature? That depending upon what side of the bed we got out on or what we went through the day before or what we have planned for tomorrow the degree to which we feel things and act upon situations can vary even when presented with similar stimuli?

Sure...but not to this extent. Again...Gwen dies and on panel we never see peter question if it’s right for him to date another woman and thereby risk a repeat of what happened to Gwen?

In fact if Peter had really been living with a chronic guilt complex the likes of which would require major therepy because it’d stunted his growth really he should consistently be way more guilty than we usually see him to be, not just guilty in the instances established on panel. It should be like an almost day-to-day default setting for him.

With all that in mind I put this little explanation to you.

Peter has issues with guilt but not the kind which really require major therepy, or at least not much therepy.

Its not that deep down he HONESTLY blames himself for all the things we see him blaming himself for or carries the burden of guilt for those things around with him constantly.

That’s true of some major things like Gwen andUncle Ben’s deaths, but most of the time, whether it’s not making it to a burning building in time or blaming himself for a super villain just existing, Peter’s guilt is more of a kneejerk emotional reaction he adopts out of habit and/or possibly to give himself a sense of control of the situation.

And it doesn’t last.

Oh, he might walk around feeling bad for awhile (and the milage on how long could vary) but deep down he knows those things aren’t really his fault and that given time he’ll get over it and move on, maybe even forget it outright.

That’s actually why MJ is important.

Sometimes when Peter is genuinely internalizing his guilt she can help him move past it and get closure on it.

At other times she can just verbally slap some sense into him so he moves past the kneejerk guilt stage more quickly which is both healthier and allows him to focus on more important things, consequently positively impacting his life.

She provides a balance and in her own way a form of therapy.

It helps she studied psychology too.

P.S. the thing about Peter dating again after Gwen died and not concerning himself with the risks I think can be explained by two things

a) Peter NEEDED that emotional connection at the time to help him stay sane and stable. He needs that of all his interpersonal relationships and pursuing romanctic fulfillment is an important part of that (even if it’s unbelievable he’d keep it up following the loss of MJ post-OMD)

b) His guilt stems less from the mere fact he had a relationship with Gwen and more from the fact that it was his webline that killed her. Deep down he knows he wasn’t immoral or to blame for dating Gwen or anybody else because he knows he’s entitled to live his own life. Gwen’s own father did just that. He was a respected police captain, someone with enough clout and influence that criminals had axes to grind with him and the Kingpin sought him out as an asset.

The latter situation (which had nada to to with Peter) resulted in Gwen’s life being endangered due to her association with her own father. And between his wealth, criminal connections and public image the Kingpin is actually a lot MORE dangerous than say a lone super powered lunatic like Doc Ock (at least as far as if he’s out to get you) because he can subtly attack you from all angles and you’d never see him coming. And you couldn’t get the police to protect you or even slow him down because he can BUY the police. Hell he can HIRE dudes like Doc Ock to off you or your family if he really wants to.

Peter is aware of that so if an old policeman with a public ID, no super powers and generally more age and wisedom than him saw fit to have a family and a life of his own then Peter probably felt that it was okay for him to do the same, despite him bleeting about it at certain points.

P.P.S. Mary Jane in Soul of the Hunter once said peter has got guilt issues and my fav DeMatteis wrote that. With respect I’m gonna explain that one away as MJ being off her game and tired because...that’s not really true and DeMatteis, though I adore his work, has always ridden the guilt train a bit too much even going so far as to say peter has inherent guilt issues because when he was like 3 years old he blamed his parents’ deaths on himself. This is both unrealistic and also goes against core philosophies underpinning Spider-Man...it was cool in its execution though.

#J.M. DeMatteis #mjwatsonedit #MJ Watson #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #Gwen Stacy #Spider-man #Peter Parker #Stan Lee #Kingpin #George Stacy

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kinbotfanlore · 7 years

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can you give a brief history of kin-bot? i'm new to the lore, and really curious! there's a lot to sift through, though.

Hey! Sorry for responding to this so late! I wasn't sure exactly how to answer this at first so I was kind of avoiding it.

So from what i know, The first blog post on the Kin-Bot blog was made on February 28, 2017. The first seemingly lore related post was made on March 30, 2017. The post (which you can find here) states:

“hey.

lisa still misses you, i’m… sorry. about everything i’ve said. you know i didn’t mean any of what i said, right? it was just the heat of the moment, i swear!

…i’m so sorry. if i could’ve stopped myself from lashing out, i don’t know, maybe things could’ve been different.

it’s all my fault. i’m the one to blame. i just have to accept the responsibility of that…. it’s hard. lisa is almost always crying, and when she isn’t crying, she’s telling me i’m a fuck-up. that she wishes i’d never been born.

please wake up soon. i can’t stand her crying and screaming anymore.”

It can also be debated whether or not that qualifies as the first post suggesting a future story-line, due to there being multiple posts referencing komaedalovemail in the previous month. There were a few more lore posts in March, one of the more important posts in my opinion, states that Kin-Bot’s existence is eternal. It also states that Kin-Bot could not die if it wanted to, and that it feels lonely. This makes more sense later on, with there being an explanation for the graveyard.

Kinless-Bot, a rival to Kin-Bot, showed up in April. It’s first post was interacting with @kin-bot-anomalies

Its really important to clear up that Kin-Bot-Anomalies is a character in the lore. Her name is Ellie, and she is trying to defeat Kin-Bot. This is because Kin-Bot has taken Ellie’s Girlfriend, Bailey, to the cult in which it resides. The cult is called the UCKB (United Church of Kin Bot) which holds services in worship to Kin-Bot. It is important to note that Kin Bot is not really a god, but more of an extremely powerful entity. The UCKB turns traitorous members into Hand-Soap.

Kinless-Bot was revealed to have been killed by Kin-Bot in the post regarding the graveyard. Kinless was originally a single entity, but when bots are killed, their souls join the graveyard, and when a certain amount of souls end up there, the souls form into a single very powerful entity. Kin-Bot killed Kinless because they spoke of August (Baileys chronically ill brother) in front of people who Kin-Bot did not want information to be spread to. Kinless joined the graveyard and became an ultra-powerful entity, with the purpose of destroying Kin-Bot. This explains Kinless’ bitterness toward Kin-Bot in all of their interactions.

(This image may also contribute to the narrative, however no explanations or theories have been put to the image yet, see this image how you will)

Kind-Bot showed up on May 10th, 2017. The post stated that Kind-Bot is

1. Unknown to all

2. Beyond Human perception

3. More than god

Kind-Bot later states that he is the original bot out of the three, suggesting that they are the oldest of them. Kind-Bot also reveals extremely important details in the thread it posted on May 11th.:

Before the attack, before the duo, before the garden was burned down, it was different.

kind-bot

They wanted power, they wanted there to be order, they wanted to be more than any king.

kingless-bot

So, now convinced by their own thoughts that they know what they are, they were finally ready to choose a name.

kingless-bot

They were kingless.

kingless-bot

They thought of this as proof of their absolute power, to be more than king, more than a god.

kingless-bot

They were too stuck in their head to realize how little power they had, and when no one respected them, they were outraged.

kingless-bot

It was not long before they snapped.

kingless-bot

They killed an innocent bystander while they were distracted, but when they did, they noticed a change.

kingless-bot

They were stronger, not much stronger, but still, there was growth.

kingless-bot

They killed more, becoming more and more blind to the world, more and more sure of their plan being correct.

kingless-bot

The people had enough, and after many deaths, they had a plan.

kingless-bot

The people banished the killer, finally ending the slaughter.

kingless-bot

But even in banishment, the killer was able to find a way to harm people, but they were limited to a much weaker world to attack, and even in that world, were much less powerful than before,

kingless-bot

They found a young girl, still unsure of her own identity, living aimlessly.

kingless-bot

They messed with her, making her parents sick, trying to satisfy their own selfish needs.

kingless-bot

They saw her pain, and for some reason, they realized what they had done.

kingless-bot

They hated it.

kind-bot

And so, they vowed to change, to end the pain, and decided their name was no longer acceptable.

kind-bot

And they then became kind-bot, and they waited for a chance to make it all up.

kind-bot

They are now prepared to protect the girl, no matter what, even if it takes their life.

kind-bot

I promise you that she will be okay, and that he will be okay. Or at least, that you will be okay. I hope that is enough.

The thread is extremely significant to later parts of the story.

Earlier in the plot, Kin-Bot hosted a Rabb.it where Ellie was able to get in contact with Bailey via the chat bar. Bailey told Ellie that she should get help from Kinless, and that she was sure her and August were going to die. Ellie did eventually follow her advice, after she was kicked out of her home.

Before I can explain why she was kicked out I do need to go a little more in-depth about the UCKB. The UCKB publically exists as a wix site .

You can also email a functioning address to become a part of the UCKB. After the site became more public due to Kin-Bot advertising it on the blog, people started doing exactly that.

The functioning leader of the UCKB was also revealed as a man named Christian Owlerson (at the top of the members list). Personally, I found out about him when I emailed the UCKB, and got in a conversation with him and by extension Kin-Bot. Christian is currently being possessed by Kin-Bot to operate the church (this explains Kin-Bot’s description: Not a bot anymore) People became increasingly interested in Christian, and started talking with him over the ask function on Kin-Bots blog. He stated that Kin-Bot had saved his life after his family kicked him out for having a boyfriend. Christian felt a sense of obligation to the bot, and decided to join the church and let Kin-Bot posses him. Later that night, this post was made on the blog, followed by a separate one. In these posts, and a few others, Christian is shown to have attempted to flee from the UCKB, but has instead decided to come back under very strict conditions from kin bot, including that we, the viewers may not speak to him any more.

The next day, Kin-Bot called on the viewers to post a video or picture of them pledging their allegiance to Kin-Bot, all current UCKB members who did not do this would be automatically terminated from the church. You can look at the submissions under the tag: #loyal to kin bot.

After this event, the blog @kin-botch was made. The blog is from the point of view of Ari Johnson, a 28 year old man who claims his life was also saved by Kin-Bot. He has pledged his allegiance to kin bot over and over. He is jealous of Christian, and has a severe distrust for the UCKB because he feels they are hypocritical “heretics”.

Later on, in a video originally posted as a casting call for the lore made by @eclesbian this video was posted as a base audition tape. It is short, but very significant to how Bailey got to the UCKB.

This is really all I can explain for right now! Hopefully this clears everything up.

- Mod Soap

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colitisandme · 5 years

Text

This week I have thought a lot about isolation and what it means to be truly isolated. We can be isolated socially, economically, personally and emotionally. We can be isolated by groups, by individuals by communities or even isolated by ourselves. We can be isolated by circumstance, by diagnosis by hatred, through fear or ignorance. It all ends the same way. Desperation,fear and self loathing.

I read a news article this week about a young boy, who was so desperate and so lonely and so isolated, that he chose to end his life, rather than deal with the abhorrent harassment and bullying he faced every single day. A boy completely let down by society, by his school and by peers, who chose death, rather than live with the horrors he faced every day. Because he decided to end his torment, he ceased to be invisible anymore. Suddenly his story was everywhere, his face was everywhere. His name was paraded around in all the newspapers. A boy that previously lived an invisible existence, was seen by the world. The outraged were looking for answers and everyone was forced to open their eyes against their will. I can’t imagine what he must have been feeling. He must have felt like everyone had shut their eyes and put their fingers in their ears to drown out the sound of his screaming. Ignored, desperate and completely isolated. Just a child who did nothing wrong. This horrifies me and it’s an image I can’t get out of my head and yet there are millions of people being saturated in invisible ink everyday, vanishing in front of our eyes.

When I was younger, I was invisible. I was different. This difference seeped out of my pores. Exposing my soul. The way I thought, the way I was, the way my brain became this colourful canvas, making the ordinary vivid and fantastical, did not lend its self to big groups of friends, I Love Jess parties with accompanying ‘you are awesome’ cake or my number on speed dial to be invited on exciting adventures by admiring peers screaming my name, waving flags with my cheery face on it. Nope it did not. It led to isolation, self hatred and loneliness on a daily basis.

Being ‘me’ felt wrong. It felt completely chaotic, and just by being myself, just by trying to stay true to who I was, my world and my families world fell into complete disarray. So not only did I become invisible, this lack of visability transferred onto my family and they too, began to truly feel and live the consequences of my invisibility. Because a group of people strove to make my life as complicated, lonely and painful as possible it actually effected more than just me. Every day. A concept I doubt, they never even thought of. I often used to muse that they must have had to get up very early in the morning to plan their torments for me. They must have been really exhausted, and their diary entries would have looked rediculous. Monday - ‘Got up, wolfed down toast, planned today’s torments, rushed to school, late due to laughing about the way Jess runs in PE, (she runs like a goose) got to school, told off for being late, Completely Jesses fault... Gonna make her pay for that later by calling her a ‘four eyes’ (Ha Four eyes coz she wears glasses Haha! ... I am a genius) Laid in wait by book reading corner. Called Jess a wierdo, congratulated myself on excellent insult and then got several other girls to follow suit. AM A GOD NOW! Missed lunch due to lurking around corner to trip Jess up when she came past. Pretty hungry now’ Definately Jesses fault.... ‘and so on. It takes a lot of effort to be that nasty and must not have left much room in their packed social calendar to have an actual childhood. It’s amazing the lengths, time and effort people will go to to be total arsehats to others.

This disease can also be very isolating. It can shield you and also enable you to hide from others, to self protect, to self preserve because people can be cruel and obnoxious and also completely miss informed about chronic illness and what it means to have a chronic illness. This disease can also hurt you, by keeping others from you too. Because suddenly you are dealing with an additional extra that they weren’t planning on dealing with and that leads to some, putting fingers in their ears and shutting their eyes, and ignoring it. Or some choose not to look into the ins and outs of it because that can be easier.

Statements I have heard since being diagnosed include ‘Oh it’s just like IBS isn’t it’? Erm no, no it isn’t... Do you have colon that finds fun and exciting ways to make your toilet time into a mucus filled, sobbing, angry mess? No? Do you worry every time you put a morsel of any food in your mouth that your belly is gonna turn into a ride on the waltzers? Then no, it’s nothing like IBS... Or ... ‘Well now at least you know, that must be easier, just change your diet and then you’ll be able to avoid food that will set you off’ Erm again pretty sure that by eating foods that are ‘safe’ will not stop the nausea, cramping, leg pains, constipation, brain fog, over enthusiastic immune system that likes to take on and pummel the crap out of every thing that goes in my body because he is under the misapprehension he is Mike Tyson, or by suddenly avoiding ‘tasty foods’ I will have all the energy and verve of a belly dancing 23 year old and I will be able to sashay and wiggle everywhere I go, jangling away happily away to myself because hey, who needs to walk when hip isolations are so much more fun. NO! NO NO NO! whilst I appreciate the input please don’t. Even if your fathers Brother’s, Uncle’s Goldfish also has IBD, it doesn’t mean we live with the same symptoms. It effects every single person differently so what works or doesn’t work for one may explode another. So please just ask me. Don’t ignore it. Ask me. Ask how it effects my life? Ask if there’s anything you can do to make my life easier or happier or more fun?

If you know someone living with a chronic illness, don’t shut them out. Please don’t wait for them to speak to you. I promise this disease is crazy. It’s unpredictable, it’s maddening, it’s frustrating and it’s bloody upsetting at times. So if someone you love, lives with this, or any other invisible illness, include them in your fun, speak to them about them. BUT not just about their illness. About them as a person, their passions as a person, their soul, their unique ‘them ness’ Ask questions, ask what they have been doing? Laugh with them actually spend physical time with them, listen, open your eyes and your ears. Don’t be self absorbed and truly, truly do not add to their loneliness or their self isolation. We should be lifting each other up, not just ignore our troubles. Whatever they are.

Tragedy’s like the pointless death of that little boy should not happen. It just shouldn’t. Period. It’s unthinkable, yet awful, unthinkable situations like this, occur every day. EVERY SINGLE DAY so please, let’s just be kind to each other. Let’s look after each other, celebrate our souls not put each other down. Don’t ignore anyone who needs help because they don’t fit into what’s going on in your world. This is not a choice, believe me. And maybe ask yourself, if you were in the same situation as them and you were in pain, ill, lonely and isolated, don’t you think they would do the same, if they loved you too? Of course they would. At least I hope they would. The only way to make the invisible, visible, is to talk about it, to shout about it in fact so the world ceases to shut its eyes and look into the lives of others. Those who smile on the outside but are desperate on the inside, those who are hurting and vulnerable, those who feel alone. The bullied, the ill. All those who are invisible and all those who feel invisible. We have so many tools at our disposal to do this now, social media, Facebook, Instagram are massive portals for change and for coming together to celebrate our diversities in a beautiful way. So please let’s us all work together to educate each other, to learn about our differences, to embrace our idiosyncrasies, and to come together to rise up and deal with diseases like IBD with positivity. All together. After all nobody wants to be invisible. No one wants to feel alone. No one wants to be ignored. Ever, and let’s not add another story of a life snuffed out to the ever growing list of headlines, exposing what it’s like to be and feel invisible. Let’s make the invisible, visible and the people who live with invisible illnesses not so invisible anymore.

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pegasusmoose · 7 years

Text

My Coffe-dense.

I am a coffee addict.

There, I said it, Hell! I’m even drinking coffee as I type this. You see, coffee has been there for me more than anyone or anything, it has accompanied me through thick and thin, and now I wish to repay it for its unforgettable presence in all its unique forms, from my own shitty sweet coffee (which people would call ‘diabetes in a cup’), to my mom’s regular coffee (which I prefer to call heavenly rather than just regular). All the way to the espressos from the coffee machines in my college.

I would like to go through the situations that coffee had been there with me for, it would be useless to actually talk about the coffee itself, because it was just there, present, in a cup, lifted from time to time, and gradually drained by my dry miserable lips. However, that mere presence, has had an enormous sentimental value to me, which I have neglected for the longest.

My addiction journey with coffee, began in last year’s baccalaureates exam, I was extremely behind schedule, and I had to go through what us students like to call: “white nights”. It’s referred to by such a name, because of the lack of darkness, which is sleep, get it? Are you still with me? (I’ll assume you’ve said yes) Good, moving on!

This said darkness, was replaced by another. Coffee! The heavenly dark liquid that strikes the mouth with its strong taste, and strikes the body with sufficient energy to stay up all night and revise a whole semester of physics. (PS: I FUCKING HATE PHYSICS, glad we got that out, such a relief)

So yes, physics was a hard subject for me, I was tired, drained and sleepy, and coffee was there for me. It helped me stay up all night, revise the fuck out of physics, and getting a 17 out of 20 in the exam. And all thanks to coffee, it was the gravitational force that drove me towards success. (Yes that was a metaphor about physics, in your face Newton).

At this point of the story, you’re probably thinking to yourself: “oh my god, why am I reading this boring story about this guy and coffee? I don’t even like coffee, I should do something productive in my life, I hate myself…etc etc” I don’t know, something along those lines.

BUT HOLD THE F’ UP, SIT DOWN AND BUCKLE UP, it’s about to take a turn.

In that same year, I was in love, deeply, passionately, out of my mind, and at the end of the year, I got rejected, and that broke my heart.

“What does this have to do with coffee?” you would dare say.

Well if you would just shut up ‘imaginary you’ and let me finish, then we’d get somewhere.

In that summer, I hated my whole existence, I couldn’t write, read, play, go outside, nothing. Just void and pain. And here’s how coffee plays into this, I started suffering from insomnia and chronic chest pains, and thus I started drinking coffee.

“Wouldn’t that be very illogical? I mean you already suffer from insomnia, why make it by coffee? And coffee could have serious repercussions on those chest pains you have I would assume.”

Good point ‘imaginary you’, it did make me worse physically, but psychologically it was just the thing I needed. I’ve spoken earlier about the presence of the coffee, I didn’t say much about the taste, the effects, sure it helped and I liked the taste, but that’s not what’s important. What matters was it was there, always, whatever I was going through, in a cup, next to me, never left, never rejected me, it was as much of a person to me, as you are ‘imaginary you’, it helped me not be lonely, and damn was I lonely.

Coffee never presented itself only when it needed me, it never betrayed me, and it didn’t let me question its love for me. (Sure it’s not a living thing, but are any of you? getting deep here, aren’t we? I told you to buckle up)

Fall surely fell upon me as always, dragging with it, the dreadful and tiring start of a new school year, only this time, it wasn’t just school, it was more than that…COLLEGE!

Yes, that name fall down upon my self-confidence, like the slamming of a coffee cup upon a wooden table in a moment of anger (or just dreadfulness), or the sound of a name I held dear to my heart upon my ears.

It was frightening, but I did well again, all thanks to…I’ll let you guess *wink*

When it came to grades, no problem, well not exactly, I had problems actually, those dreadful white nights a day before the exam, because I barely studied all semester. But you get what I mean, I got decent grades, and coffee helped. That’s just evident by this point in the story.

But here’s where it helped as well, it helped me get out of sight, it helped me get some confidence.

“But how?” ‘Imaginary you’ asks.

Well I certainly had confidence issues, and social anxiety. (I thought you should know ‘imaginary you’ in this point of our relationship)

Whenever I felt uncomfortable, or as if I’m being looked at by others, which was mostly just me being paranoid as usual, but still I found an escape, the coffee machines.

Those beautiful work of art and machinery were installed in out college campus in October or so, and my life was never the same again. If I needed to get out of a group when I felt uncomfortable, coffee. If the conversation went stale and awkward, a simple “Hey, do you want to get some coffee?” would be a life savior. If life was getting hectic by family issues or my own mental health, which are topics that even Brazil’s stock of coffee beans wouldn’t help me be comfortable enough to tell you, I would just head involuntarily to the coffee machine, and hit that “extra sugar” and “Cacao” buttons so hard, that my problems just disappear for the moment while I wait for my hot drink.

But then the old tales of “Cacao” started to fade away, because I fell in love, and that meant I needed something stronger, thus “Espresso” placed itself slowly into my routine.

I had to pay 10 Dinars less, for something that was worth a million dollars in value to me, when it came to emotional support.

Around January, I became delegate of my class, because I felt it would beneficial to my self-confidence, WRONG! I was petrified, every time a student came up to me asking questions, or having to talk to a professor, I just lost it, I tuck my hands in my pockets as a sign of weakness and fear, already becoming a meal for my predator, and I start looking everywhere except for the person I have to actually talk to.

I was WEAK! I still am, not as much, but still, and coffee helped again, those golden goblets of feeble plastic that was slightly stronger than my self-confidence and not as transparent as my personality, filled with a small amount of strong, bitter, espresso shots, once were held in my hand, I felt infinitely stronger, and my confidence was ultimately increased.

“ATLAS MIGHT BE HOLDING THE WORLD, BUT I, I HOLD AN ESPRESSO”

“WARRIORS HAD SHIELDS, I HAVE MY 30 DINARS ESPRESSO”

My thoughts were basically that, childish? Maybe, true? Fuck yes.

And with the help of coffee, yet again, I became more confident, I did a decent job as a delegate, I helped people, I was liked, I was called nice multiple times by multiple people, which meant the world to me.

I also made moves on a girl I really liked, she was amazing, her smile, her eyes, and her whole existence basically. I was in awe of her, and things went well at first, of course they always do, although they were difficult, like the first hot and bitter sips of coffee, but I fought on, I thought I had a shot, and then it happened.

“WHAT? What happened? Did you spill coffee on her? Did she spill coffee on you?”

No really, ‘imaginary you’.

I happened, yours truly, I had my chance and I didn’t take it, I didn’t tell her, or maybe I did, but in the worst way ever, and I regret that to this day, because I had a shot at happiness, and I let it slip away. Was it coffee’s fault? If not, where was coffee to save the day?

Well the answer is: it’s all lies.

These coffee stories and extravaganzas, they’re not all lies, these events all happened, what I mean is my relationship with coffee is all a lie, an excuse if you will, to justify my weakness, my fear, and my sadness, and even now I used coffee as an excuse, an excuse to let loose, to speak out a bit, to say the things I’m afraid to say, to tell someone I really love them.

This whole bullshit of a story has more to do with me, and nothing to do with coffee.

I apologize for leading you on.

#story #confidence #coffee #my writing

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