#it really is hard but i just need to remind myself constantly and practice that. i'm human too. meaning i'll always | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charmedreincarnation · 6 months

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Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

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i can't hide from you like i hide from myself

part 3 of cool about it. reader almost relapses. almost.

tw for mentions of self harm.

Recovery was just as hard as you remembered it; the only difference was that you didn't know how the hell you did it without Alexia the first time. She had kept her promise; she was right there with you, every second of everyday, someone always anticipating what you needed.

The hardest part was getting rid of the guilt you felt; so far, you hadn't struggled with needing to do it again. You were just overcome with shame. You were back in therapy, though, and the necessary adjustments were being made to your medication. Things were looking up. Recovery, though, is evidently not just an upwards slope.

-----

You'd insisted that Alexia go out with her sister and her sister's friends. She'd been by you side constantly, and you knew she needed to get out. You weren't really feeling up to that yet, though, so you assured her you would be fine, and all but shoved her out the door.

In your defense, you hadn't been feeling bad when she'd left. Alright, maybe a little down, but nothing you couldn't handle. You'd had a calm night in, watching TV and catching up on emails. You were doing alright, admittedly excited for Alexia to return home.

The catalyst was a simple nick in the shower; you were shaving your legs, mind on the next day's practice, when you felt a sharp sting. You dragged the blade to the side slightly on accident, and there was a small cut on your shin. You dropped the razor in shock, watching in horror as blood dripped from the wound.

You hadn't done it on purpose. You hadn't. Suddenly, though, all you could think about was doing it on purpose. Somewhere in your panicked brain, you remembered that this was an addiction, like any other addiction. Even if you didn't want to do it for the normal reasons, your body still craved the release.

It would have been so easy to just give in. Alexia wasn't due home for a few hours, and you were already bleeding. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, picking up the razor and chucking it out of the shower, into the sink. You washed the remaining conditioner from your hair, hands shaking, before shutting the water off and climbing out.

You didn't even want to look at the cut on your shin. It was a combination of reminding you of what you'd done just a few weeks ago, and what you desperately wanted to do right now.

You left the bathroom, getting dressed quickly, before forcing yourself to apply some pressure on the cut. It wasn't deep, or serious by any means, but shins had the tendency to bleed a lot, and if you didn't want to drip blood all over your apartment, you had to do something.

Your hands continued to shake as you held a washcloth over the cut, and you felt your control slipping. You were panicking, and you knew what you should do. What you needed to do. Without letting yourself think too hard, you grabbed your phone off the bed, sitting down on the ground. You clicked Alexia's contact, reminding yourself that she wanted you to call her, she'd told you to call her.

"Hola mi amor! Everything alright?" She asked, clearly trying to mask her alarm at the call from you.

"Yeah, um. I mean, no. I'm sorry. Can you come home? I need you." You said weakly. Alexia's tone shifted instantly, and you heard her tell someone, presumably her sister, that she had to go, before she was speaking to you again.

"Of course, mi amor, I'm leaving right now, I'll be there in 5 minutes. Stay on the phone with me, vale?" She said, and you let out a hum of agreement. She didn't ask you to explain, or ask you what was wrong. She knew that you needed her, and that was enough for her to speed home. The sound of her breathing over the line was enough to keep you grounded, until you heard her shut the car door behind her, rushing up into the house. "I'm coming up, okay? Where are you?"

"Bedroom." You mumbled. You were really starting to panic now, head spinning with anxiety. You heard the front door open and close, and Alexia's fast footsteps as she rushed towards the bedroom. She threw the door open, her phone forgotten in her hand, as her eyes frantically searched for you. The minute her eyes met yours, and flew down to your leg, you realized what it looked like.

"Oh, mi amor," she sighed, and you couldn't help but feel like she was disappointed in you.

"It wasn't on purpose, Ale, I promise, it was an accident," you told her frantically. She moved to sit down next to you, moving your hand away from your shin as she inspected the cut.

"Okay." she said, believing you. Still, you insisted, not really hearing her response.

"I was shaving and the razor slid, I promise, I didn't do it on purpose, Alexia," you cried, and it sounded like you were begging her to believe you. With her free hand, she cupped your cheek, shushing you.

"I believe you, mi amor, it's alright. I'm here, and everything is fine," she told you soothingly. You were still panicking, though, still completely distraught, eyes glued to your shin.

"Look at me, bonita, eyes up here," she said, drawing your attention away from the cut. She gripped your chin gently, holding your gaze there. "Deep breath in, with me," she told you, exaggerating a deep breath. You stumbled over another inhale, but Alexia's attention stayed on you, reminding you when to breathe in and out.

With her help, you managed to calm down. After a minute of following Alexia's breathing, you opened your mouth. You had to be honest, you had to tell her the truth, before you lost your nerve.

"It wasn't on purpose," you said again, and Alexia looked at you sympathetically, nodding her head. "I almost did though, after. I almost did it again," you told her brokenly.

"Okay, mi niña. You didn't though; you called me instead," she reminded you. "You asked for help when it would have been easy not to, and I am so proud of you, bebe," Alexia insisted. You looked at her uncertainly.

"I shouldn't have freaked out, though, I don't know why I did," you reasoned, not really prepared to except her praise. Alexia shook her head, though.

"No, amor, that's not true. What happened before was traumatic, and this was something so similar to that experience; it makes sense that this was really upsetting to you." She sounded so sure, so convinced, you couldn't help but internalize her words, just a little.

"I'm sorry you had to leave dinner," you told her quietly, still feeling incredibly guilty.

"Don't be sorry. I want you to call me when you need me, no matter what I'm doing," she replied. Her words made you feel so loved, but at the same time, you felt so unworthy of that love.

"You're too good to me. I don't deserve you," you mumbled attempting to slightly farther from her. She reached out to stop your movements, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. She hated that you didn't see yourself the way she did; that you didn't recognize that every hard moment was worth it, because the good you brought her was unmeasurable.

"You deserve good, y/n. You deserve everything good. Even when it's hard to accept, even when you don't feel like it. You always deserve to be treated with love, and care, and patience," she paired her words with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you to lean against her chest, until you were enveloped by her soft sweater, by her comforting scent. "I'd sit with you here for as long as you need me. I love you, and I'm always going to love you, even when you don't feel like you deserve it," she promised.

You tried to burn her words into your memory. You didn't want to ever forget them. Not the way she said them, her chest vibrating under your ear, or the way she spoke slowly, wanting you to hear every sentence.

Leaning up, you softly kissed Alexia's pillowy lips. It was slow, and somehow meaningful. It communicated how thankful you were for her words, for how patient she was with you. She kissed you back, cradling your face like it was breakable, lips moving against yours perfectly. You broke apart after a minute, and you looked up at her, at the adorable way she her eyes crinkled slightly when they met yours.

'Thank you for being here," you said.

"Always," she replied, without hesitation. She'd promised it before, but something about this time was different. You believed her.

-----

soft alexia <3

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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melded-galaxy · 1 month

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Ultimis Richtofen: Throughout the years

Part 2 of 3: Shit Gets Wacky

Call of the dead: After the teleporter malfunctions, Richtofen and the gang get stuck in a pitch-black closet. Shenanigans ensue. While waiting for the team of unfortunate celebrities to retrieve what he needs, Richtofen sexually assaults Dempsey twice, gets everybody hammered to distract them from any pesky resurfacing traumatic memories, designates potty areas and schemes.

Not much to say about this one, err, Richtofen's extremely horny and making it everyone else's problem, I guess? There we go.

Shangri La: Somehow, Richtofen is hornier.

The doctor is attracted to the statue of himself the natives built. He's constantly hitting on Nikolai in the jungle and makes incredibly sus remarks about the spike trap and the water gaiser. Clearly, the sexual frustration is real.

Richtofen's childlike tendencies also get even more exaggerated in this map. 'Weee!! My shoes go squeaky squeaky!' '*gasps* Spectre! It almost sounds like doctor!' 'Ah the beer of the root! Aha, I said root...'

It's implied Edward's mother used to scold him for playing with toys meant for girls and for frequently masturbating. 'Mother said I shouldn't play with dolls... or myself, but I don't always do what mother likes.'

Furthermore, he becomes enraged when mentioning his upbringing. 'this reminds me of my childhood-STOP TALKING TO ME!!'

Richtofen is becoming a better marksman through much practice. 'Either their heads are getting bigger, or I'm getting better!' 'Sniping's an art of which I am a master!'

Curiously, Edward doesn't remember his time ruling the natives, only remarking that the temple seems familiar to him and that he likes the scenery. Element 115-induced memory loss strikes again.

Plotwise, Richtofen manages to get his hands on the focusing stone and is about to teleport to the moon, when Dempsey yet again fires a wonder weapon inside of the teleporter. This causes the machine to malfunction and the gang make an unplanned trip to the Pentagon.

Classified: Classified is a bit of a confusing and abrupt entry, as it was added in bo4 to a story that took place all the way back in bo1, but a really interesting one.

Richtofen is quite a bit calmer here than in previous maps. His voice is also lower pitched for the most part. Out of universe, I think Nolan North said that he struggled to reach the same pitch as he had before, possibly because of both time passing and how used he got to voicing the much calmer Primis version of the character, but I'm not 100 percent sure. In universe, this is probably just because Ricky's tired and has less energy in this map, lol. He just got done fighting countless hordes in Shangri-la after all. Old man needs a nap.

He's starting to get impatient when it comes to fulfilling his plan to take over the MPD. 'One day, I won't HAVE to perform such menial tasks.' 'Are we on the moon yet?' 'Mock me all you want, one day soon I will be the one doing all the mocking!'

Dempsey hilariously mocks Richtofen's high-pitched voice in this map lol. 'What's wrong Richtofen? You scared? I thought I heard a little *Aaah!*'

When reviving Dempsey, Richtofen claims the man owes him a 'favour'. What that entails is (thankfully) never elaborated on. 'I hope you remember this, Dempsey. I shall want a favour in return.'

Edward alludes to Germany and Japan's alliance in WW2 when Takeo revives him. 'Ah I knew I could count on you, Axis old buddy old pal!'

Richtofen's getting better at hitting them headshots. 'I wasn't even trying! Hard.' 'I think that might be my tenth headshot of the day. Hooray!'

Samantha reveals to Edward that she's seen everything he will do if he manages to gain control of the MPD. She also warns him that they cannot use the aether, it will use them. 'Oh, SO brave, Teddy! You come all this way, just to possess the aether's powers! What was it you wanted? Oh ja, to find Agartha! As if it will somehow solve all your problems! How...childish. Do you want to know, Edward? What I've learned about this place? The aether is not for us. Not me. Not you. Not anyone. We do not use it. It uses us!' 'If you acquire this power, I know what you will do. I have seen everything. Do not worry, Teddy, I won't ruin the big surprise! It would make your sad little head explode! Besides, it doesn't matter because I won't let you take it!'

Hypocritically, he complains about Samantha's voice and screaming, despite, well... everything.

Classified's hidden logs reveal that after ww2 ended, Richtofen cut a deal with both the Americans and Russians to split Group 935's employees and research. Richtofen also revealed to both governments that Griffin Station was on the moon, which helped to ignite the space race.

A personal log Richtofen recorded reveals he did this on October 10th 1945. The friendship between Richtofen and Doctor Schuster appeared to be waning, no doubt due to Richtofen's unhinged mental state. When Schuster protests about dividing Group 935's staff and resources amongst the Americans and Russians, Richtofen tells him that: 'Everything Group 935 stood for died the day Maxis made that infernal deal with the Reichstag. You und I both know this to be true. Listen to me und understand. Our technological development with 115 has the envy of the entire world! These agreements guarantee our work will continue in America und Russia, and that they will continue with our scientists at the helm! I am sorry... but for our work to live on, Group 935 must come to an end. Oh cheer up Doctor Schuster, I have asked that you go to the Americans, it'll be good for your... softer side.'

So, weirdly enough, Richtofen still hated the deal Maxis made with the Nazis, even long after he was corrupted by the apothicons. He's also still fond enough of Schuster to bother guaranteeing the man's safe well-being with the Americans rather than the Russians, as he would no doubt be treated better by them.

Later on in the same log, Schuster pleads with Richtofen to tell him the truth about why he's doing all of this and what he's planning. Edward only laughs and tells him that he will be 'well taken care of.'

On a passing note, I recommend checking out all of Classified's logs/phone messages/punch cards if you haven't already. They contain a ton of fascinating lore about pretty much the entire storyline. Seriously, go do it, it's great stuff.

Moon: Here we are, at the finale of Bo1's zombie storyline! As we all know, this is the map that Richtofen finally completes his grand scheme to take over the MPD and subsequently the world. He does this by swapping bodies with Samantha and then attempts to kill Sam and the rest of Ultimis 'But! Not before we continue the game'. Maxis also comes into play, via being absorbed into Griffin Station's computer systems, and succeeds in weakening Richtofen's connection to the aether by blowing the Earth up with missiles with help from Samantha, Dempsey, Takeo and Nikolai. As revealed much later on in the story, Samantha and Ultimis don't die, rather they eventually manage to teleport back to Area 51 where they are subsequently captured and experimented on by the Americans.

Richtofen's getting laughably bad at hiding secrets. It almost feels like he's mocking the rest of Ultimis for their naivety. 'Wow, look at this place! A place I've never ever been before... ever. Someone turn on the power.' 'FINALLY IT WILL BE MINE! I mean, hey I think we're in space!'

He claims to be a very good hacker. 'My mad haxor skills are only eclipsed by my mad scientist skills. And it's very close.'

He seems to not know the English word 'excavator', or has forgotten it. 'That big diggy thingy is going to FUCK US UP!' 'Hm, it seems the big diggy thingy is going to mess up this rig.'

The doc also hints that he may know about alternative realities, something that comes into effect much later on in the story. 'Nothing happened... at least in this reality.'

He ponders turning Griffin Station into a thrill park if his plan to take over the MPD fails (based and thrill pilled): 'If this plan fails, I should build a thrill park here!'

Unsurprisingly, he seems to harbour a dislike for American women. This could also double as a leaning on the fourth wall moment, lol. 'What is with Groph's obsession with American women? All they ever do is PLAY GAMES!'

Interestingly, or perhaps terrifyingly, Edward shows interest in having children of his own. 'I hope this drink doesn't affect my fertility. Oh, the thought of little doctors!'

More of Richtofen being a huge hypocrite; he mocks Maxis's German accent despite having an even stronger German accent that's more exaggerated.

Hope you guys are enjoying this analysis so far! Part 3 might take a bit longer, quite a bit to get through. I'm really enjoying researching all of this, even if it's taking a shit ton of time lol. I'm sure there's still stuff i've missed or forgotten to mention, so feel free to add anything of note in replies/tags!

#ultimis richtofen #codz #edward richtofen #nazi zombies #cod zombies #call of the dead #shangri la #classified #moon #my post #character analysis #richtofen #analysis

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moonlit-positivity · 8 months

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Healing Thoughts: How Safety Can Help Us Understand Grounding and Dissociation from a Different Point of View

I've spent a lot of time sitting with myself and observing a lot of different things about how I experience dissociation and what has helped me stay grounded vs when the dissociation gets worse. Grounding can be really hard to understand the concept of in practice, but I've noticed something that has worked for me and has given me a chance to understand it on a deeper level.

Safety.

How do you define being safe? What makes you feel like you are in a safe and comfortable space? What do you need in order to shift your nervous system out of survival mode and into full rest? Dissociation is our body's natural defense mechanism against traumatic and triggering events. If you are experiencing extreme dissociation and finding it hard to stay grounded, you may still be operating on a level where your brain and body, ie nervous system, has yet to fully establish a safety zone for you to be grounded in a place where you're not having to constantly face trauma or triggering events, and to also face them with a proper support team behind you to help recover from such triggers. And this can be really, really difficult to understand because especially if you come from an abusive childhood, what the hell does safety even mean, right?? How do you know if you're safe?? What does it mean?? You might need to spend some time reflecting on your own experiences to help you understand it from your own point of view, but safety is really the backbone to recovery. Ask yourself

Are you physically safe?

- Distance from abusers

- Stable and secure housing

- Working amenities like bathroom and kitchen

- Able to procure and store food that is safe to eat

- physical space to sleep, bed and sheets and pillows etc

- Boundaries against sharing your address, phone number, emails etc with your abusers

- Safe roommates/living arrangements

- Doors locked/windows blocked with blinds or curtains

- physical space to breathe and unmask

- A room where you can close the door and get some privacy

Are you emotionally safe?

- Comfort items like blankets, stuffed animals, pets, video games/tv, music, things that bring warm and safe feelings

- safe people to talk with and share your pain in a way that you feel seen and validated

- encouraged to speak up when something bothers you and enforce your boundaries with others/people listen when you say you're uncomfortable and respect when you say no

- consider the emotional state of your thought processes and how you're handling self sabotaging behaviors

- healthy emotional coping skills that encourage curiosity and compassion for what you're going through rather than shame and humiliation

[these are just a few suggestions. What are some other things you would write in these categories?]

Its not just about the physical safety, but that is a huge first step for the other parts. If you're in a situation where any of these physical safety needs are not being met, then that is a guaranteed reason why your body is stuck in survival. It is exhausting living in a state where you're constantly worried about losing the backbone of your entire life, or living with people who threaten your safety. Housing, food, sleep, etc are all a part of basic human needs in order to feel safe (check out Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs). If you are struggling with any of these please know you're truly doing the best you can to survive right now and that is all that matters. Survival is an entirely different world than what most people would ever experience. You gotta do what you gotta do to get through it, it makes sense that your body would still be fighting in these conditions, and that is okay. Gentle reminder that we all move on our own timelines and that our bodies have an entire system for survival as a natural defense. If you're stuck in fight/flight/freeze/fawn in an unsafe environment, trust your instincts to guide you through it.

Once you're physically safe and put some distance between you and the traumatic situations, it can take a lot of time to really "cool down" or adjust to the concept of being truly safe, like living in a space where you can actually breathe and walk around and not worry about how much noise you make or how much food you eat, or if someone is going to randomly yell at you or hit you etc. This is a huge part of healing that I don't think is talked about a lot, but with that freedom can come a huge depression at the realization that this is really happening. And that can be an entire reason for dissociation to take over, even and especially when we start to feel physically safe.

Being physically safe is when we can start to fully process and understand on a deeper level. And with that... comes the awareness. Again, please be gentle with yourself because dissociation is our natural defense mechanism again traumatic and triggering events. Please remember this. The dissociation you experience and the escapism to avoid the pain of what you went through, this is a fully natural and normal part to recovery that I don't think is ever really talked about at all. That is so incredibly normal. To experience such horrific events, especially as a child, you have been in situations where they were trying to unalive you, your body has been fighting for so long just to keep you alive. It can take a very very long time to sit with that and fully process!

We all move on our own timelines...

If you are trying to work on yourself in these conditions, defining your emotional safety can truly help you flourish. Things like boundaries and reclaiming your autonomy and talking about what they did to you so you can start to unravel your own understanding of it all... because without the emotional safety of knowing your boundaries are worth protecting, we end up in situations that don't really see us for our true genuine authentic selves, our voice, our needs and wants- and that is just more trauma to deal with. There is also the parts of you that so desperately need your own love and attention and all they want is for you to sit with them through the hard and uncomfortable emotions lurking underneath, to love and care for what they have to say, and to give urself the grace and patience and compassion you're truly yearning for.

Thats why I think the ultimate hack to understanding grounding when ur experiencing resistance or finding urself heavily dissociated or in a panic... is to focus on how safe you feel in these moments. Run through the checklists and ask yourself which ones stand out the most to you? What kinds of safety does your mind and body crave the most? Are there any concerns that are interfering and causing stress at this time? Then reinforce the check points that show you are safe- safe in your house with the doors locked and windows covered, safe in the company of who is around you, safe enough to protect ur boundaries if anyone tries to intervene... and eventually you will feel safe enough to experience this moment in it's full range of emotions...

Because at the core of grounding, is just being present with yourself through all the pain, discomfort, and overwhelming feelings. And it makes a lot of sense for you to stay dissociated until you feel safe enough to be in the present moment to begin with... And it can take a very long time to work that out for how it best works for you, so remember to be kind and gentle and take breaks and be nice because you're trying so hard to just make it through the days. Healing is hard, yanno?

Safety Affirmations

- I am not there anymore. I am safe. ["There" being traumatic events & situations]

- I am not in that house anymore. I am safe.

- [abuser] is not here. I am safe.

- if [abuser] were to show up, my doors are locked and I can call [safe person] to help me.

- i have a right to defend my peace. I am safe.

- i am [adult age] in my adult body. I am not my child self anymore. I am safe.

- I don't have to do anything I don't want to do right now. I can think and make my own decisions at my own pace. I am safe.

- i am allowed to disagree with how they treated me. I am safe.

- i am allowed to cut people off who invade my space for my abuser. I am protected from people who threaten my peace.

- i am allowed to speak up when someone violates my boundaries. I am safe, loved, and cherished for who I am and what I need.

- i am allowed to feel uneasy. I am safe enough to feel this unease. I can allow myself to feel this feeling because I know I will be safe enough to express myself without being judged. I am in safe company.

- i am allowed to feel upset. I am safe enough to unmask and show my true thoughts and feelings because I am safe enough to trust my gut instincts. I am safe in mind soul and spirit.

- i am safe. I have worked hard to escape my abuser and I have worked hard to establish this safety for myself. I am safe in my space.

- i am safe to express my innermost thoughts aloud to myself and to know I will value all that I have to say. I am safe in my thoughts.

- i am allowed to feel warm and safe and to truly experience this bliss for all it's worth. I am capable of protecting myself when the hard and uncomfortable things arise. I am safe in this moment.

Hope this helps 🌸

#grounding #ptsd #recovery #boundaries #trauma #mental health #bpd #trauma recovery #trauma therapy #cptsd #emotional health #safety

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demonlikejudgeoffire · 1 year

Note

For the prompts: stephcass, “I can’t beat you at anything”

The stars in Gotham are pretty much non-existent. When Steph was a kid, she'd ask her mom why the sky never looked the way it did on TV. Back then, she didn't really understand words like light pollution or smog. Still, a younger Steph had decided to pretend after that that she didn't care that there weren't any stars in Gotham.

Looking at Cass now, it's hard to remember that resolution.

They're on a rooftop in the Diamond District, high above the glitz of downtown Gotham. Somewhere below them, there are fashion crimes taking place at yet another red carpet event, the civilians blissfully unaware that Steph and Cass had just nabbed someone aiming for a crime of a much more drastic nature. They're four hours out from sunrise and the end of their shift, but Cass shows no sign of flagging. She's humming slightly to herself; a tune from The Nutcracker that Steph recalls her practicing to just the other day. Steph can't look away from her.

She says, "Cass."

On her lips, it feels like an oath. She swallows as Cass turns to look at her, head cocked in curiousity. "Codename," Cass reminds her.

"Right, uh," Steph laughs shakily. Off to a bad start, already? "I'm not talking to you as Black Bat, though. This is about you. Cass."

She has the full weight of Cass' attention now. Steph swallows. There's no turning back now. And yet, even if she could, she doesn't feel like turning back.

"I've known you for almost a decade now," she says. "Sometimes it feels like it's been even longer than that. We're not kids anymore, but when I'm with you, I can remember what it was like to be that kid meeting you for the first time."

"You were loud," Cass says. Her voice is fond.

Steph's heart feels like it's going to burst. "I was, wasn't I? I wanted people to see me. And I was so jealous of you, remember that?"

Cass nods.

"I was constantly measuring myself up against you and finding myself falling short. You were—you still are, honestly—so much better than me at everything."

"Steph…" Cass says softly. She places her hand on Steph's.

"It took me so long to realise that that wasn't a bad thing. I couldn't beat you at anything. But I don't need to beat you. You've been by my side this whole time. Watching me fuck up. Helping me when things go wrong. And I—" Steph's voice cracks, as she says, "And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you."

Cass squeezes her hand. "I know," she says.

"I know you know," Steph laughs thickly. "And I know—Well, I hope—"

"I love you too." Saying that, Cass reaches into one of the pockets on her belt and pulls out a small velveted box.

"God." Steph swipes at her eyes and pulls out her own box. "I really can't beat you at anything, can I?" She makes the mistake of looking at Cass and they both start to laugh.

#opalwrites #opalanswers #dcu #stephanie brown #cassandra wayne #stephcass #sniperserpent

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narrans · 5 months

Text

The Orion's Daughter : To Lands Beyond | Chapter Six : Family Day

**~~~~~**

Chapter Six | Family Day

**~~~~~**

Two moons. It had been two moons since I began my tutoring with Mehlein Hohru, and I had to say that I was making leaps and bounds. From the beginning, Mehlein seemed like a stingy codger who had no interest in anything except returning to his life of being a hermit.

He constantly drilled me on things he taught me, repeating over and over that I needed to be able to recall everything at the drop of a hat without looking at my notes, which were not looking half bad. I learned the alphabet and how different words were supposed to be put together, so a lot of my scribblings were simple, but I would also make little sketches to jog my memory when I needed a reminder while studying by candlelight at home.

Mehlein refused to let me use my notes when he quizzed me though. He was viscous in his reminders that I needed to commit everything to memory. He had this menacing little sand glass that timed me and how fast I could write down different things. That device became the bane of my existence, forcing me to write faster and faster, making my letters wobbly and uneven, which would earn me another round of scolding and lecture.

It was only after when Steele reminded me that Mehlein was trying to not only teach me everything I would have already learned in school, but that he was trying to push me to surpass my peers and other kids my age, I suddenly felt a new form of respect for Mehlein and his teaching methods.

As frustrated as I became when I couldn’t remember something, I had to force myself to remember that it was because he was trying to make me better than the others. He was not doing this out of malice, as Steele said, but because he saw potential in me and knew I could handle the strain of work and pressure he was giving me.

That or he was able to make his cruelty seem like a helpful lesson.

I really wasn’t sure.

What I did know was that one day, while I was working, my mother came into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me, sadly making my hand slip and smudge the letters I was practicing.

“Momma!” I cried, not meaning to whine. My mother immediately gasped, not realizing that I was busy working.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your practice. I just had a question for you, and then I’ll leave you be,” said my momma. She had on a light, flowy dress on and her thick, red curls were tied back into a low ponytail.

“It’s okay,” I muttered, scribbling through the letter I was working on, which happened to be “R” at the time. “What is your question?” There was one “R” in that sentence, and I smiled to myself thinking that I was remembering letters and was able to keep track of how many of them were in different words. It was a bit of a game Mehlein had me practicing, and it was working.

“Well, I know you have been working very hard recently, so I thought we should take the rest of the day today and have some fun. Steele made a very good suggestion and, once he is finished with his tasks, I am going to take him up on it and wanted to see if you wanted to come along,” said momma.

I looked at my countless tablets of pliable clay and leaf parchment where I was practicing my letters with charcoal. I thought for a moment about Steele and about what his sketches would look like if he were to use the same tools I was using. I thought about what a book his size would look like if I were to stand on it and how long it would take me to fill up an entire page with my piddly scratching and letter practice.

“Where are you going?” I asked her, tying back the thick hair my momma and I shared into a low set bun.

“The beach. He wants to walk along the sand and walk into the water,” said momma. The beach? The ocean? I couldn’t swim very well, but the thought of looking down into the bottomless depths and asking Steele if he knew what was really down there was too much of an opportunity for me to handle.

“Yes, I think that would be nice,” I said, smiling at my momma. “Do I need to bring anything?” She shakes her head, tossing her luscious red curls.

“Just change into some clothes you don’t mind getting wet and that won’t shrink when we dry in the sun,” smiled momma. She leaned forward, pressed her lips against my temple, and whisked herself away outside to undoubtedly collect something to eat later. I stared after her before turning back to my papers and tablets.

I decided to clean up my mess so that we could have dinner immediately when we returned and stashed everything away into my box that slid under the bed. I didn’t think I could learn anything else today anyway. The work felt busy, and I was just tracing the words and letters over and over to commit them to memory.

A break was going to be nice.

I slipped on a skirt and shirt that I knew would not shrink or weigh me down if I got wet and headed outside to wait with my mother by the garden beds. While we waited for Steele to return, I helped her weed and water the garden by going over to the well and drawing up water. I remembered what Steele said about leveling and pipes and, for a moment, thought about trying to draw up the water and making pipes like Steele did, but I would save that project for a later time.

Meanwhile, I watched as my momma used the same irrigation techniques as Steele did in the fields on one of the days I accompanied him to practice my lessons with him. She filled a barrel with water and, turning a tap on the side, let the pressure of the water in the barrel push out through pipes she created using rods and hollow reeds.

Brilliant. Ingenious. It was the kind of thing I hoped to learn how to do on my own one of these days.

*Thud*

I felt the vibrations in the ground and whipped around to see Steele approaching from the nearby field. He was being careful with each step, but seeing his easy stride and how relaxed his shoulders were made it seem like he was just coming back from an afternoon stroll. If he weren’t a giant, he would simply look like an older man striding by a field of low-cut grass.

He looked like he was so at ease – at peace.

It was an inspiring view.

Momma tapped me on the shoulder and gestured to the roof of our home. I knew what she wanted to do before she uttered the words, and I liked it. I liked being on the roof. It made me feel tall when I most certainly was not and gave a great view of the fields and distant ocean where our home was.

I scurried up the ladder quickly, grabbing one rung after the next and snagging my skirt with my shoes twice on the way up.

“Be careful sweetheart,” reminded my mother as she pinched the edges of her skirt and ascended gracefully. I wished I could be half as graceful as her on a good day. Although, what I wanted more was to just be able to wear britches or pants like the boys in the village. Wearing skirts and dresses were cumbersome and inconvenient at best, but that would be considered “improper.”

I carefully shimmied across the sides of the roof, the shingles under my hands and feet burning warm from hours resting silently in the sun’s light and secured myself onto the ridge as I watched Steele approach. As my mother joined me at my side, Steele approached and knelt, spotting us immediately.

“Good sun’s high, Steele. Did your jobs go well?” asked my momma as she stood and balanced perfectly on the ridge of the roof. Steele’s smile was broad and thoughtful as he extended his hand toward my momma.

“Very well,” he smiled. “The lake for the Deelas is finished, so their little cows have a place to drink so they will not be bullied away from the water. The fields to the east have been tilled under, so they will have good harvests and good dirt. Finally, the last of the creek rock has been moved, so there should be no other blockages when the rain comes.”

“Excellent. You have had quite the busy day,” said my momma as she carefully stepped up onto Steele’s finger, balanced there for a moment, and then stepped further onto his hand. Steele’s eyes then flicked over to me. There was a moment of quizzical curiosity before his violet eyes brightened.

“Terrilyn, are you coming to the ocean?” asked Steele. I smiled a bit more bashfully than I wanted to, but nodded and glanced down at Steele’s massive fingers, each almost twice as tall as me. Taking a quick breath, I jumped the short distance from the rooftop to the edge of Steele’s fingers, stumbling slightly over the edge of my skirts once again, but managing to make it without falling onto his palm.

“You okay?” asked my momma. I nodded, seeing both Steel and my momma’s eyes on me. I thought for a moment that I would feel annoyed that they were fussing over me, but I really didn’t have that feeling. Instead, an unexpected sensation overtook me – the feeling of being loved and cared for unconditionally by not one but two people.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, smiling and crouching down beside my momma before she gave the signal to Steele that we were ready.

“Then we’re off!” cheered my momma. Her light bark brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight as Steele stood and turned toward the ocean. I stayed close to my momma as I leaned forward into the breath of the wind. It whipped around me as we neared the horizon where the ocean waves kept up their consistent breeze.

As the horizon neared, I saw the water cresting into wave after wave and could hear the whooshing crash of the cresting waves. The smell of the ocean invaded my nostrils, filling them with the smell of salt and the pungent scent of kelp and other sea life.

When I stayed with the Finchs while my momma was working in the city as The Orion’s Factotum, we went to the ocean only once. Usually, the cliff sides are tricky to travers because they are made of shale and other fragile stones, but locals know of a better way. There is only one safe path down to the edge of the water, and it is along the shale steps. This path is safe, but it takes most of the morning to climb down and part of the evening to climb back up safely.

For the entire day with the Finch family, I walked down the steps, slipping only twice, and walked along the damp sand and even found a couple of small shells along the edge of the water which I was allowed to keep in my box of treasures.

I didn’t really get into the water, and I most certainly did not think I could dare venture out into the water beyond the edges of the cliffs.

Now, as we approached the edge, I found my heart pounding as I looked down past the cliffs and to the horizon. My excitement for what was beyond started to seize my imagination. Would I see anything like in the stories and tales of the deep that I heard about from the schoolhouse? Would I glimpse sea monsters or other fantastic creatures?

Now, as he approached the edge, I felt my heart starting to pound with excitement. Steele evaluated the edge, which was about his height, before crouching and laying his hand on the ground.

“One moment, please,” said Steele as he tilted his hand so momma and I could step off. He carefully stepped off to the side before making the small leap down to the ground. For him, it would be as easy as descending a short step. For us, it was a rocky cliff face that would surely lead to our end if we slipped. The crashing impact of his weight against the ground shook the ground like a small earthquake before he turned around and offered his hand for us to safely descend the side of the cliff.

“Thank you,” said momma as she once again resumed her position on Steele’s hand. I joined her, smiling broadly at him and catching the youthful gleam in his violet eyes as he met my gaze.

He turned toward the ocean and, glancing at us, asked, “Are you ready?”

I saw momma nod, and so I did the same, feeling nervous and jittery all at once. Steele turned his eyes not to us, but past us as he stepped carefully across the sand and entered the water. Feeling the ground give ever so slightly, Steele sank further and further into the water, pausing every once in a while to adjust to the temperature of the water.

My guess was that he barely noticed the waves rushing across his feet as he stepped further and further into the water. It wasn’t until he was up to his hips that his body began to sway ever so slightly with the rhythm of the water.

I was nervous, but also excited. I knew it could be dangerous, but I had to look. I laid my front against Steele’s hand and peered over the edge of his palm to the ocean below.

The water was like the color of my eyes, a deep, dark blue that I knew I inherited from my dad. I could see some of Steele’s torso in the water, but I could only see a little way down in the water before his legs completely vanished into the depths of the water below.

As Steele moved deeper into the water, he created a bit of wake on his own, the water creating little waves and crests as he moved from his hips up to part of his torso. I felt him give a little shiver as he continued into the water. Then, with his left hand, he pointed toward the surface of the water a little distance away. He extended his arms and lowered them, so we were only a short distance from the water.

The deep water became clearer and clearer as I gazed down into it. My momma crouched and laid beside me as she peered over the edge. Following Steele’s still pointed finger, I glanced out and watched as something leapt out of the water, spun partially in the air, and then vanished once again below the surface.

“Woah!” I exclaimed involuntarily, covering my mouth almost immediately as if whatever I just saw could hear me.

“Steele, what was that?” asked my mother. There was a sense of curiosity and awe in her voice. Not even a trace of nerves was in her tone.

“Eh… koonyardo vi… we know them as lophind, though these are small. Your size. They are… koonyardo vi… warm. They nurse their young but are like fish. They swim up and down, not side to side though, which makes them different than fish,” explained Steele. I couldn’t help but giggle at his explanation. I knew he was trying so hard to explain what he knew, but expanding his knowledge of our tongue sometimes left him speechless.

It was charming to me. Confusing, but also charming.

I leaned back over the ledge and stared at the water when, suddenly, I saw one of them – the lophind. It had an odd, long nose with eyes that set back slightly. It was a soft light blue-grey color, and I could have sworn that it had some kind of smile on its face. It swam up and down, just like Steele said, and barely broke the surface when there was an explosion of salty mist right in front of me.

I felt the spray against my face and leapt back in surprise, yelping as I fell back. My mother, also startled, managed a laugh as she leaned further over the ledge to catch a glimpse of it.

“Steele! Is that one of them? Tzakar frenmon kavee?” My momma, practicing Steele’s tongue, was able to say one phrase and then the other with such ease. I could only hope that I would be able to do the same one of these days. I watched Steele’s violet eyes brighten instantly at hearing my momma use his language, and he responded in the same language.

“Ken. Tzakar frenmon kavar,” stated Steele, pointing again to the surface as three more of those lophinds leapt from the water and into the air. My heart, finally starting to calm, now pounded excitedly. I crouched by the edge once again and peered over the edge of Steele’s palm, once again face to face with the lophind.

I watched as Steele’s movements in the water created waves that the lophind undoubtedly found amusing because they continued to jump and leap through the water. I watched them play in the water when, suddenly, Steele’s body was completely submerged. He kept the hand we were in aloft, but there was a brief moment where I thought we were going under. The cold ocean water splashed against the heel of his wrist, spraying momma and me with the refreshingly chilled water.

When Steele emerged, he kept his left hand clenched as he reached up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. I looked up at the shining droplets of water in his hair and highlighting the gray strands in his dark blonde hair, which is lighter than when I first met him. Is it because he is older? Or is it because of all the time he is spending in the sun?

Steele, turns his left wrist over and unfurls his fingers slowly, revealing a mess of sand. I wasn’t quite sure what Steele was doing when I watched my momma step forward into the sand, slipping off her shoes before doing so, and began to sift through it. I stared, fascinated and curious, and watched as momma brushed away the sand until a small notch stuck out from the area she just brushed away.

“Found one,” she smiled as she grabbed the edge of the notch and pulled. I sat there in awe as I watched her pull out a massive seashell. It is a beautiful off-white color which fades into different shades of pink. Speechless, I leaned forward and felt something brush against my palm. I glanced down in the sand and saw a few shells right there by my hand, and one of them still had a resident in it.

I carefully snagged the shell and lifted it up to examine the pink crustation living in the shell. It had massive pinching claws, but it shied away when I held it up by my face to get a better look. For a moment, I felt an odd kinship with the creature.

Did crustations feel? Could they be scared? Was it experiencing the same things I did when Steele held me as I held it in my hand?

I didn’t know. What I did know was that it deserved to be let go back into its home in the water. I laid it gently on the ground and continued to help my momma sift through the sand, stepping onto Steele’s left hand as he calmly dipped his head back into the water, probably to cool himself off. We sifted through the sand, kicking what we didn’t need off of the side of Steele’s hand, and ended up finding two dozen excellently preserved shells, though none quite as exquisite as the one momma found. Some of them are maroon while others look pink and others blue grey.

What kind of creatures used to live in these? I wondered quietly to myself as we stepped back onto Steele’s right hand.

“We’re good!” called momma as she managed to catch Steele’s attention. He nodded, dipped his left hand back into the water, and then submerged again, grabbing another handful of sand so we could repeat the process. This time, I managed to find a dozen teeth that Steele said belonged to a creature he called peripisci, which were evidently dangerous sea creatures.

We collected shells and teeth for the better part of an hour or so before I watched momma pull out a couple of odd-looking headbands from her side bag. I watched as she hoisted up her skirt, tied it securely to her hip, and tied the headband onto her head. Part of the headband was see through, like glass, and had something wrapped around the rim. She looked a little funny with these things on her eyes.

Then, she looked at me and smiled.

“Alright, Terrilyn. I’m going to try something. You can try it with me or stay here while I do, but I will be right back, okay?” said momma. Maybe it was just the idea of her trying something dangerous, but I didn’t want to leave her side. Still, she has a determined look in her eyes that says she is going to do something, and no one is going to tell her not to.

I was conflicted. Did I go with her? Stay?

I wanted to be brave like her, and doing brave things was the only way I knew how to do it in this moment.

“I… I’ll come with you,” I said, feeling my own hesitation. I swallowed dryly as I watched my momma smile and slip a similar headband around my eyes, securing the odd lining around my eyes as she tied the other parts tight around my head.

“Okay, we are just about ready. Now, Terrilyn, what we are trying to do is see under the water,” said momma as she finished tying the final knot.

“See under water?” I asked. “But, how? The salt in the water will burn, right?” Momma nods.

“Yes, it will burn. That is why Steele and I made these. These should keep our eyes safe. He is going to lower us into the water just for a moment and we’ll get a chance to see if these work. Remember about holding your breath? We’ll need to do that. Okay?” said momma. I loved how confident she was, and I decided to mirror her behavior.

“Yes,” I said. Steele, listening the entire time, nodded and, slowly, began lowering his hands into the water. I felt my heart starting to pound harder and faster in my chest. My mouth felt extremely dry, but I took deep breath after deep breath as I felt the water come up over my ankles, up to my knees, and up past my waist.

The chill of the water is a welcomed relief to the blazing heat of the day. I saw Steele’s hands curl ever so slightly, cupping us in order to keep us from being bombarded by the waves. As the waves came up and splashed against my back and my sides, I looked up and saw my momma confidently take a deep breath, crouch, and submerge in the water.

She looked like she would have in the bath, suspended and effortlessly weightless. I saw her head glance around from left to right before she pushed herself up and looked over at me.

“Terrilyn, you have to see this,” she said. There is a youthful gleam in her eyes as her wild red curls sag and cling to her face. She takes another breath and ducks back below the water.

Be brave.

I held my breath, knelt, and dipped my face beneath the cool waves.

Immediately, I am plunged into another world. The surface of the water looked like a silver barrier as the blue extended farther than the horizon. The depth was further down than the sky was up, and it was filled with life. Far below, I watched fish and those other odd creatures that looked like pieces of cloth drifting far below me. The waves engulfed me, and I kept hold onto Steele’s hand to keep the waves from drifting me away.

I came up for air after a short while and sputtered out a little bit of water. A little got into the weird device on my eyes, but I managed to get it out before I delve back beneath the waves.

I am completely enamored with the world below the waves that I regretted the moments I had to come up for air. My momma pointed to different things she saw in the depths below, but eventually we resurfaced and met Steele’s curious eyes.

“Did they work?” asked Steele. Momma and I both nodded eagerly.

“Yes. Ken! Yes,” sputtered my momma, spitting out some of the salt water from her mouth, as she leaned back against Steele’s fingers as if she’s relaxing in the shallows. “Very well. A few adjustments and we’ll have it perfected.”

“Good,” smiled Steele. “Are you ready to go back? Or do you want to stay?” Momma looked at me, waiting for me to respond. I think about it for a moment before looking back up to Steele.

“Could… we stay? I want to see the water some more, please,” I said. Steele smiled broadly and nodded.

“Yes, and hang on. I’m going under,” said Steele. Momma and I barely had a chance to secure our devices onto our eyes before all three of us plunged under the water. Steele managed to open his eyes and, instantly, I’m captivated by his visage. He appears other worldly with the way little bubbles line his face and how the backdrop of the ocean blue enhance his violet eyes.

He squinted around before closing his eyes and remaining there for several more seconds before standing once again. The rush of water weighed me down like immense, heavy blankets. The water poured out from Steele’s slightly splayed fingers as he lifted us out of the water entirely, leaving me feeling like a drenched kitten.

I thought about ripping my clothes off just to my undergarments since my shirt and skirt felt so heavy, but I refrained. It was the only thing protecting my skin from burning, and me staying in the clothes probably was keeping it from shrinking completely.

At least, I hoped it would.

After we recovered, Steele had us secure ourselves to his shoulder as he waded all the way up to the edge of his shoulder so the water would splash us from time to time. Every once in a while and with an amused smirk on his lips, Steele will lower all three of us into the water. I found myself laughing and leaning into Steele’s neck and my momma’s embrace.

The entire day is, in a word, fun. Between the splashing and the later walk along the beach as well as the collection of shells and teeth, I had a wonderful, perfect day.

Suddenly, I was pulled back to that day with the Finchs and realized that, in that moment, I remembered seeing them this happy. I saw them laughing and splashing about in the water. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Finch hugging and kissing their children. I watched them enjoying their time together – a family.

Was that what this was? Was that what I had now?

I looked over to my mother, who was beaming and radiant in the light of the setting sun, and then to Steele, who had on a smile that seemed untouched by his years in prison.

Were we… a family?

I looked back at them and found myself smiling, hardly able to contain the warmth spreading in my chest. A fluttering thumped in my chest, and I realize I haven’t felt happier in a long time.

Yes.

This was my family. My mother, my Orion, and me.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Book One: The Orion’s Factotum

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littlebearbigchub · 2 years

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Fantasizing about a relationship where criticism of my weight is central.

We meet online where I lure him in with pics of me at my thinnest. He doesn't know that I've been struggling to get my abs back since those pictures were taken, that everytime I manage to drop a pound or two I rebound into binges that have the scale ticking up in fits and spurts. When we meet in person I've managed to lean down enough to avoid accusations of straight up catfishing, but I've been laying in on thick about how I've just been temporarily distracted lately from my fitness routine by work and my body will be back in peak condition soon. Its actually serendipitous though, because he works in the fitness industry and he's itching for a project to work on that he has complete control over. At his job as a personal trainer, all his clients fail because they don't have the self discipline he utilizes to maintain his perfect body - he can't stop them from skipping their workouts or binging on donuts. But by dating someone he's coaching he has the opportunity to completely control their diet and gym time, and he's confident he can whip me into shape in no time and start using me to promote his business.

He takes extensive photos of my "before" body. Posing me so I look even flabbier than I actually am, all with the goal of emphasizing how fit and muscular I'm going to be in comparison later. I'm particularly embarrassed the little muffin top my tight pants make so I'm desperately grateful for his help. By the time we'd met, I was getting into a dangerous place. I'd started to really flirt with the idea of just letting myself go - I'd been failing for so long to achieve the lean the body I idealized that I wondered if I shouldn't just give up and lean into my shameful impulses. The intensity of the shame of standing there before him and seeing the number on the tape measure that he slung around my waist has my eyes bugging hard enough out of my head though to shut those thoughts down though. For all I'd thought myself comfortable with my chub in private or sharing in anonymously on the internet, for all the self-work I thought I'd done unpacking internalized fatphobia - standing in real life infront of this Greek god who's not into fat feeling like a pudgy little boy in comparison has me euphoric, gulping down shame like water after a 10 mile run.

We fall in love and he pays attention to every single thing I put in my mouth. Everyday, I know he's watching, judging my choices. He's constantly exacerbated by how oblivious I seem to be about what it takes to maintain visible abs. Reminding me constantly that I have a calorie limit and macro goals to adhere too, repeatedly catching me with junk in my hands or my head in the fridge when I'm meant to be cutting. He takes candid photos of the extra pudge I can't seem to ever shed peeking out of my clothes in unflattering ways to show me why I need to be more diligent. Everything about the relationship is perfect except that we constantly fight about my weight and how I'm not supporting him and his business by being dedicated enough to his regiments for me. I cry, genuinely wishing I had the self-control to achieve the sort of body we both want for me.

But there's no help for me. His scrutiny is the only thing preventing me from blowing up into a real chub, and he secretly loves to remind me what we both know deep down, but refuse to practically acknowledge: at the end of the day, I'm nothing but a fat pig and that's never gonna change.

#gaining #gay gainer #fat belly #fat humiliation #exjock #fatboy #getting bigger #wg story #wg text

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sleezeboss · 1 year

Text

2022 Art Summary and Thoughts

stealing this from a mutual- just wanted to reflect on the art I’ve made this year, what I’ve learned, and where I’d like to see myself go from here.

The end of the year is weird for me, artistically. I always slow down with art and get really immersed in family, holidays, and my life outside of art. And because I’m not cranking out art 7 days a week, it skews my view of my output and self worth, and it makes me end the year feeling like I’ve quit art, like I haven’t made anything, like it’s time to hang up my hat and move on or something.

But! When I stop being dramatic for like 5 seconds, I can see that that’s not true at ALL, and in actuality, in the last year, I’ve made some incredibly profound strides with my art that I am so excited to carry into the next year.

I’m hoping that sitting down and contemplating these strides will help solidify them and make them more tangible to me.

So let’s dive in!

At the beginning of 2022, I had a LOT of fun reacquainting myself with Ren and Stimpy. I started rewatching it on a whim while working out one day, having not watched the show since I was.... 6? and was instantly transported to a world of inspiration and love for my art and art-making that I hadn’t experienced for some time. The expressions, dynamism, and sheer energy of that show reminded me a lot about what I love most about my art. I felt encouraged to pursue my strengths, rather than constantly focusing on what I need to improve or need to change about my art. And I felt it blossom. I made some pieces I really loved in 2022, and I hope to continue with that energy and love for my own work that keeps art-making enjoyable and meditative for me.

These were all expression studies of screencaps from Ren and Stimpy episodes. I got ADDICTED to seeing my boys with these big, bold expressions.

This is the screenshot that kicked it all off lmao. This unlocked something so crazy in me.

This was me taking a stab at pulling expressions from my head, no reference.

After that, during the summer, I took a 6 week animation course through Animation Mentor, an online school. I loved it so much, that as soon as it finished, I immediately signed up for a second course that started not even 2 weeks after. Not to be dramatic, but no joke? For the first time in my artistic journey, I felt capable and confident about animating. It was the first time in my life that 2D animation was actually presented to me in an accessible (and achievable!!) manner. I have ALWAYS struggled with animating. I love it so much! I am a cartoon fanatic and Disney animation enthusiast at heart, and to love something so deeply and to only be mediocre at it at best can really be hurtful and demoralizing, but! These two animation courses really helped rewrite that narrative for me.

This was my second-to-last assignment, the floursack test.

This was my final assignment for my first course, 2D animation for beginners. A head-turn.

Moving into the new year, I would really like to see myself animate more. Making several small, 2-3 second animations and getting the practice in, building up a personal portfolio of animation is something I really want to see for myself. I want to see my characters live and breath, god damnit!!

Animating inspired me to make some style guides for my boys, rather than ref-sheets. I think ref sheets can become outdated quickly as your style adapts and changes, but a style guide, one typically used by animators, is a great guideline for keeping characters consistent. I thought that would be very useful for me, so I made one for Rex and Bub, naturally.

In the fall, I finally finished a mini comic I had started earlier in the year, Belphi’s New Pussy.

(cropped for NSFW material)

Comic-making was admittedly hard for me last year. I think graduating from my iPad to a new tablet set-up and learning CSP from scratch really shook my artistic confidence and motivation for comic making. All last year, I was beating myself up about not working on chapter 5 of Badbeat, so I am amazed and proud that I was able to get BNP out. Not only did I get it out, but it ended up being one of the most successful posts of my twitter career lmao. I’m really happy with how it looks, but I think it’s becoming clear to me that that level of comic polish is not sustainable for more than 1 chapter a year. If I want to finish Badbeat in my life time, I’m gonna need to simplify my process. Maybe even keep it to my iPad. Something about drawing and sketching is easier on my iPad, whereas the actual comic formatting can be done in CSP. I’m obviously still trying to learn my optimal workflow for efficiency, speed, and sanity haha.

In the comic year, I really would like to get chapter 5 out. That is my comic goal for the new year.

All and all, it has been a really productive year artistically. I feel like quantity-wise I have produced less than maybe the year prior, but I think the things I DID produce have been profound. Pushing Bub and Rex’s designs and expressions has been profound. Taking the steps to learn animation has been profound. Making a comic entirely in a new program that I have owned for less than a year is profound.

I am very proud of myself and can’t wait to see what the new year has in store!

#2022 art wrap #2022 art summary #blog #art blogging

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sxugaryx · 2 months

Text

I spy (Fanfic)

New chapter from my main series 🩷

The phone of the house started ringing, Pinocchio took a deep breath and answered. Thankfully before Pinocchio could get angry, the person from the other line spoke up first.

“Hello, is this Giuseppe Geppetto’s number? I’m speaking from the Bastard Stalkers' office” Sabertooth said from the other line.

“Um yes” Pinocchio was relieved, then he shouted at his father that someone wanted to talk with him. Pinocchio heard from aside the conversation.

“Yes, I see” Geppetto’s voice sounded melancholic, “Oh no you don’t have to come all the way to my home, I’ll pick them up myself” They were trying hard to convince him that they should go see him instead of him coming all the way there but they failed.

After that his father hung up the phone, explaining that they needed to pick up Carlo’s belongings, apparently, they were cleaning the offices and it was taking up space. Obviously, Geppetto can’t carry them by himself so he will need his son’s help, who is eager to help.

—-

“It’s not much, however, we found it best you kept it rather than throwing it away” Sabertooth had a fake smile on her face.

“I practiced with Carlo before” Lion was trying to act friendly as well, “He would have been a great stalker”

“Yes… he would have” Geppetto was trying not to get depressed about the past, about what if things would have been different.

Geppetto and Pinocchio looked at the box containing Carlo’s belongings, some of Romeo’s belongings were there too.

There was a journal used to write down his schedule, and a few notes were written by Romeo, mainly love reminders for Carlo; a few grinders for weapons; the clothes they used for stalker duties, and…

“Mmm, what’s this?” Pinocchio grabbed what looked to be one of those dog puppets but miniature, although it didn’t look finished.

Geppetto looked at it, then scrolled the pages of the journal, looks like Carlo was building it himself as some miniature pet, he wasn’t always at the apartment he and Romeo shared so he thought having a dog, living or puppet would make it sad to be constantly alone, so he was making one he could always carry with him.

“It’s actually quite impressive” Geppetto could see that building something so small to fit in your pocket would take a lot of effort, not to mention how this looks different than the average dog puppet, more detailed.

“Have you thought about becoming a stalker?” Lion asked Pinocchio.

“It’s not really my thing” Despite the fact that Pinocchio got confused many times as a stalker in the past, he always felt a little uncomfortable with the title, although it’s not as if he could correct them back then, admitting you are a puppet during a frenzy is not a good idea.

It also seems like a lot of people seem to glorify that type of work when in reality is dangerous hard work.

“What shame” Sabertooth sighed, “Carlo was-”

“I’m not Carlo” Pinocchio interrupted her, he isn’t dealing with comments like that anymore.

“My apologies” Sabertooth gave a fake apology, on the inside she was fuming, “I did not mean to offend”

“Well thank you for giving it back to us” Geppetto gave out a sigh, “We will get going”

“Wait” Lion knew they couldn’t leave yet, “The streets of Krat are very dangerous currently, we didn’t mean to offend, just that Krat could use more help”

“That is true, no one is safe nowadays,” Sabertooth said, “Have you heard? Adeline Corday has gone missing, someone influential like that gone like that? It’s tragic”

Pinocchio started feeling worried, the last time he saw Adeline was in the Opera House, did she get hurt somehow, and no one noticed? He still has the necklace.

Even so, no is no, plus he already has his hands full with the King of Riddles.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested” Pinocchio stood his ground.

“I’m sad to hear that” Sabertooth isn’t sad at all, it was already ridiculous when Carlo brought Romeo, something like that isn’t happening again.

At least they know so far that he doesn’t want to be a stalker, in their minds that means he has less fighting capabilities than them. Underestimating Pinocchio’s true strength.

With that said, Father and son left, leaving the stalkers to continue on their other duties. Slowly gathering Pinocchio’s information and Frederick’s other request.

Lion tried to speak with Sabertooth before she left in a rush, Lion hates it when she does that. Why is Saber the one in charge? She is smarter and even better, prettier than her.

Another stalker came to speak with her, she ignored them, something about if anyone had any clues about Adeline as her family was desperately looking for her. Whatever, Adeline probably ran off with some man it’s not as if she has something to show for aside from her voice and looks, looks that Lion tops definitely.

She took off her mask, it’s a mascarade mask because she needs to show off her pretty face as much as possible. Right now she has an appointment at a spa and cannot miss it.

Lion has a special date tomorrow, she is already looking for a husband and she won’t settle for anyone who doesn’t meet all her expectations. Once she finds the one, she can quit her stalker hobby, fighting is fun but is there anything better in this world than being a trophy wife?

—-

“Is something on your mind pal?” Pinocchio decided to hang out with Gemini while his father was working, sitting on a park bench at Rosa Isabelle Street.

“I’m thinking of the dog puppet Carlo was building,” Pinocchio said, “Father looked sad when examining it”

Geppetto mentioned how it was so brilliant, how he didn’t know Carlo was interested in building puppets even if it was a hobby or a side project, while looking inside the notebook notes about it were found. He recognized those types of notes, most likely Carlo had copied some of his in one of his visits.

“Did he really not think I would have liked to help him? Did he still thought I hated him?”

Pinocchio had heard his father mumble that under his breath.

“Why not try finishing it yourself?” Gemini was sitting on Pinocchio’s shoulder, moving his tiny feet in the air.

“I guess because… it doesn’t feel the same?” Carlo was making it, not him, if he finishes it then it’s no longer something special his brother was making.

“I get that” Gemini can understand, “Why not make your own then?”

“Ehhh that’s a good idea but…”

But he has no clue how to even start, he read the notes alongside his father and it seemed like a different language.

“Well I guess you have always been on the more artistic side” Pinocchio is very skilled at music and art, also writing even if Pinocchio tries to hide what he writes because he feels embarrassed it’s not good, “But come on how hard can it be? You learned to fix yourself when your father wasn’t there for you, you can do this”

“I’m not sure” Pinocchio still didn’t seem convinced, “Shouldn’t I be looking around for clues or something?”

“Krat is a big city Pinocchio” Gemini chirped, “And unlike before the streets aren’t empty, you could end up causing some trouble”

“That’s true” Pinocchio stood up from the bench and decided to walk back home, he was having this strange feeling that he was being followed but that must be because he was worried about Arlecchino.

“Nothing out of the ordinary” Tiger mumbled to himself.

Why does the doctor even care about Pinocchio? He is just a regular boy living his daily life. Tiger did manage to sneak in a picture, not that in his opinion it would truly change anything but at least he has proof of his work duties. He felt weird doing so like he was harassing the poor boy.

Speaking of pictures apparently, his parents want him to go to the Mallum District and take some there, ugh, them and their dumb journalism, he needs to take pictures of beautiful things, not ugly decrepit places.

What is even the point of showing bad things in pictures? Why waste valuable effort on something like that? It doesn’t matter, no way he is stepping foot near a place like the Mallum District, he wouldn’t be able to face others if he got caught in a filthy place like that.

He should go to the Opera House, the place is open again and the structure is simply stunning, maybe he could get a special shot of those spider puppets while they sing. Tiger can then waste time by watching a show, ignoring how his parents want him to “take life more seriously”

—-

It was by pure accident that Rusty stumbled across Pinocchio, her older brother was supposed to be taking care of her but he got distracted, or rather he wasn’t even paying attention to her to begin with as usual. So when she ran off to chase a cat she ended up getting lost, starting to cry because she couldn’t find her way back.

“Are you okay do you need any help?” Pinocchio was about to get onto the tram that connected to the path home when he saw her crying, he could wait for the next one.

Rusty didn’t recognize him at first with tears in her eyes so her first instinct was to pull out her weapon.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you” Pinocchio didn’t seem intimidated by the child who was somehow holding a sword twice her size.

Rusty calmed down, she knew that she shouldn’t talk with him directly but at that point, she didn’t care and asked for help, maybe she could say she got lost on purpose so that she could interact with him.

When they found Rusty’s brother he barely even looked up from what he was writing in a journal, he didn’t even look at Pinocchio in the eyes and gave a half-assed thank you.

Pinocchio looked worried about the girl yet he needed to go back home so he was hoping this was a one-time occurrence.

“Hey,” Rusty tugged on her brother’s shirt, “Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay?”

“You are okay” Her brother looked annoyed, “Why wouldn’t the prodigy be okay?”

She became a stalker at a ridiculous age, her older brother recently turned 25, and their parents wanted him to become one, so they forced him to take classes. It was a family of generations of stalkers so he should be one. Her brother no matter how hard he trained wasn’t able to, he simply didn’t have the physical strength or skills to do so, not to mention how he hated every second of it.

So when Rusty was born her parents spoiled her, she was their second try, the second try that succeeded beyond their expectations. Rusty ignored her brother’s coldness, Mother and Father say he is only jealous of her.

“In fact, tell them to hurry up and find you another nanny fast because I’m sick of your shit”

Her brother is taking care of her because her last nanny quit, this is the 7th in a row, they just don’t understand her, why don’t they get that she should do whatever she wants? She is the honor of the family, Mother and Father say she is the entire world so the rules given to other kids shouldn’t apply to her.

——

“UGH I GIVE UP!” Pinocchio put his hands up to his face in frustration before composing himself, “This is too complicated”

“Calm down buddy” Gemini was trying to reassure him.

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong” Pinocchio kept re-reading the notes, it wasn’t working at all, was it the design? Was it that he kept missing something?

“Maybe you are right, it’s not going to work because you aren’t Carlo” Gemini was standing on the table next to him.

Pinocchio was quiet, he felt like he wanted to cry before Gemini spoke up again.

“So you shouldn’t try to do it how Carlo did it, you should try to do it your own way”

Pinocchio faintly smiled, Gemini was right, this was supposed to be something he made. The notes should only work for the basics, he needed more ideas, to be more creative. So he went to his father’s workshop to find any material he could find and maybe blueprints that could help.

“Ow!” Pinocchio yelped as he opened the closet door, the arm of god falling on top of him, “Why did we even keep this?”

“I’m sure it can be of use later” Gemini is aware that Geppetto probably knows how to put it to good use or perhaps Sophia has some idea.

Pinocchio put it aside as he looked inside, finding what he needed, then he grabbed a folder that contained many of his father’s notes.

Pinocchio had a smile on his face when he found something unexpected, he took the folder and put a clip on the page to show to his father later, for now, he needed to work on his tiny pet.

—-

“So whatever happened to the arm of God?”

Sabertooth was listening to her parents talk with a man, he had come here before, his skin was pale and he had strange green hair.

“I assume it must have been destroyed when Geppetto’s son killed Simon” Giangio lied with a smile, “I did look for it, nowhere to be seen”

“Don’t you think it’s possible he took it?” Sabertooth’s mother asked.

“Nah” Giangio was acting too casual, no way he is letting them know Pinocchio has the arm, if someone will steal it, it has to be him, he only needs the perfect opportunity, “Trust me, I almost cried when I realized we lost it”

“You are acting more relaxed than usual” Sabertooth’s father looked suspicious, “Why is it that you aren’t helping again?”

Sabertooth found it strange how apparently this man was so well respected among the alchemists, she didn’t believe her parents at first when they told her he was the one who made her weapon.

“It’s personal you wouldn’t get it” Giangio smiled, “Plus I have my fun on the side, as long as I send information from time to time it’s not a problem”

Even if he doesn't get directly involved, he is an alchemist, he has a duty to fulfill as part of the organization.

“I’ve heard that you got into a fight with Frederick is that true?” Sabertooth’s mother took a sip of her tea, she didn’t seem as worried as her husband, being more used to his playful nature.

“Don’t worry it was something stupid he will get over it” Giangio laughed it was fun to remember it.

Giangio gave the doctor a small visit, he greeted him with a friendly wave, and in return he was greeted back with “How the hell did you get inside my house?!”

“But if you must know…” Giangio played with his hair, not giving it much thought, “He got a little mad at me for talking back, you know how he is, doesn’t like it when others don’t take his verbal abuse”

“Ugh I get that” Sabertooth’s father rolled his eyes, “I respect his mission, not so much how entitled he gets”

Sabertooth feels like she is overhearing some petty work drama, it looks like you can’t escape that no matter the place of work. Although she is the one who loves to start the drama.

Being a stalker is boring, that's why she likes to give herself some entertainment, she has the fighting skills, and she loves the battle, but she hates all the other stuff like the dumb codes of honor. But alchemists don't get much action, not to mention how you can count with your hands those who are skilled fighters, plenty died when Simon was doing his plans, although they mainly relied on special guns or mutations due to their experiments. There was that woman, what was her name? Ariana? Adriana? Whatever, Simon had a fangirl who would follow him around, she was a skilled fighter, and apparently so is this green-haired manlet. People have been singing her praises because of her fighting skills, there is no enemy she can't take out almost instantly, and rarely does she ever get a challenge. Currently, she gets rid of those interfering in the alchemists' plans.

It's odd, she wanted to be an alchemist, she does have an above-average knowledge of the subjects without being one, mainly due to her family. But she was always a fighter, not a researcher, Frederick has commended her for the secret services she provides, she has been doing this way back since Simon took charge (although Simon wouldn't praise anyone not even if his life depended on it) despite being young, although she is the oldest of her gang, being 27.

Perhaps Rusty is the closest one that can match her, but her family must be giving her drugs or something because to this day she can't believe how strong she is, at that age, Sabertooth was breaking all the expensive toys her parents would buy for her.

“What were the two of you talking about?” Sabertooth’s mother was intrigued, “What exactly did he say?”

Since Frederick didn’t like him breaking into his home in the middle of the night before going to bed, so he started shouting at him.

Giangio has a huge grin on his face “He called me a lunatic with mommy issues”

Okay maybe he does have some mommy issues considering he killed his mother, but that just made Frederick even more furious with his response.

“So I said, takes one to know one” Giangio laughed again, and Sabertooth’s mother found it amusing as well so she laughed too.

“It truly was something stupid” Sabertooth’s father didn’t look amused, “It’s true he will probably get over it soon, your help is always valuable, it would be a shame to lose your support fully”

Giangio stopped playing with his hair, according to the investigation he did on his favorite doctor, that comment probably hurt him way more than he let on. Unlike Frederick, he is self-aware about his issues.

“Unfortunately I have to leave” Giangio stood up, saying his goodbyes, and going towards the door, he turned to look at Sabertooth, her finally realizing he knew she was spying on the conversation all along.

Giangio gave her a devious smile, opening the door to leave.

“Chao~” Giangio hummed in a playful tone.

Sabertooth went up to her room, she was bored lying in bed, then she had an idea to have fun, she pulled this stunt once in high school, and she should do it again, so she went to buy some condoms and decided she would put them into one of the other female stalker bags randomly tomorrow, it's going to be fun who gets labeled a slut and has to leave out of shame.

Honestly, she is the best stalker already inside their organization, there is no need to get rid of the competition, this is only for fun. She once heard someone say she has a “superiority complex” It's not a complex if you are better than everyone else already.

Suddenly, her father enters the room, saying how he has been shouting at her to come downstairs.

“Are you ignoring us on purpose? I can't believe you weren't hearing us”

Dammit again with her hearing problem, they don't know that yet, frankly, she doesn't want to end up taking their weird fucked up cures so she lies saying that she took a nap and got too carried away. She should find a cure for herself, she has the skills, the resources, and the medical knowledge.

An experiment sounds fun, she has assisted in some, truly she has the best deal out of this, she can do research and she can show off her fighting skills. She has it all, she is intelligent, beautiful, strong, and wealthy. She has always been the center of attention because she deserves it, people adore her, and better yet they fear her.

—-

“Father welcome home!” Pinocchio had rushed to his father’s side when he arrived, giving him a big hug, “I have two surprises!”

“Two surprises?” Geppetto didn’t know what to expect.

“Look!” Pinocchio grabbed a box, he opened it to show what he worked so hard for.

“Oh, that’s…” Geppetto was surprised, it looked like one of the traditional puppet dogs in miniature, almost the same as the ones he designed, except this one was black because Pinocchio had painted it and it had a bow on its neck, “Very creative!”

Geppetto was impressed, still, he had one question, “Why does it have a drill for a face?”

He knows excavation puppet dogs were made with his base design, it’s just something he didn’t think Pinocchio would know about. His son then explained how he had fought some of them before during the frenzy, which made Geppetto more confused about why Pinocchio would build it like that.

“Behold” Pinocchio looked so proud of him, as the dog was turned on, and when Pinocchio put one of his pencils near it, the dog began to sharpen it with his drill. Now his little dog can always help with his art projects.

Geppetto in return was so proud of his son’s ingenuity.

“This is something I found” Pinocchio then grabbed the folder he had found in the closet his second surprise, showing his father the note that was left behind.

Geppetto saw how it was missing some blueprints, only a small piece of paper left behind.

—--𖦹—--

“Dear Father, I took your notes for something I wanted to make, but I lost the original prints,

You probably don’t need them anyway, but in case you find this before I show you what I’m working on, sorry”

-Love Carlo ♡ (Please don’t get mad)

—--𖦹—--

Geppetto shed a few tears, he wiped them away and smiled.

“Thank you, son” Geppetto played with his son’s hair, “Now, why don’t you tell me how you made this?”

Geppetto misses Carlo, but right now Pinocchio is in front of him, that’s what matters. Besides how can he not be excited to hear how his son built something so special?”

Pinocchio was beaming with joy, he started explaining how he did it, Geppetto listened attentively to his son, they were having a good time, it had been a while since they had a bonding moment like this.

“Do you still hate puppets for mining now?” Geppetto teased his son.

“Yes!” Pinocchio didn’t even hesitate, his doggy wasn’t for that and wasn’t evil, “I almost lost my Legion Arm!”

When Pinocchio returned to Hotel Krat, his Legion Arm was barely hanging by its cables, sparks of electricity coming out of it and his shoulder had been dislocated.

“I remember that” Geppetto was the one to fix Pinocchio after returning, and added a few updates with Quartz that came in handy when he later faced champion Victor.

“I could tell you were angry at me but didn’t want to show it” It was rather cute, Geppetto smiled remembering it.

Pinocchio was looking away the entire time, his face red with frustration and when Geppetto asked what was wrong he said it was nothing in the least convincing way possible.

“I was too polite back then” Pinocchio pouted, “I should have called you out”

“Hey I didn’t build all those puppets” Geppetto was teasing his son, “Your uncle Venigni is also to blame here”

“But you made them evil not him!” Pinocchio was not letting that go, those puppets traumatized him.

“Fine, you are grounded”

“What?!” Oh no, he shouldn't have brought Law 0 again, Pinocchio regretting what he said.

Geppetto pitched Pinocchio’s cheek, “I’m joking, you are a good boy for being so brave”

“Father!” Pinocchio was embarrassed and relieved that his father didn't get mad this time.

Gemini watched from afar their conversation unfolding, the small cricket happy to see father and son have a strong bond. Glad to see them relax after everything they are going through, even if it only lasts for today and they go back to the mess they unfortunately got tangled in.

Everyone does deserve to have some fun, even in the hardest of times.

#lies of p #lop #liesofp #lies of p game #lies of p fanfic #this is in ao3 too #lies of p pinocchio #ao3 link #lies of p geppetto #lies of p oc #lies of p original character #lies of p giangio #lies of p gemini #lies of p fanart

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silvertherogue715 · 7 months

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Hey. It's been a hot minute since i've posted any art. I really just post for myself, but i felt especially proud of the progress ive made over the course of (many) months designing the Sunstar of my BrainrotAU. Feel free to disregard! I'm just gonna ramble. Art will be included in the 'keep reading' section though.

I didn't want to deal with uploading the actual art files, and just used snippet to capture pieces of my art instead. The pictures could be irregularly large or small as a result--I don't have a good way to control then when using snippet. Sorry! Some old art of Sunstar.exe (not in order):

So, as you can see above, a lot of blue. It's kind of overpowering, honestly, and it took me a while to figure out I needed to start making changes to his color palette.

This was his first half body reference sheet. A ton of blue. Also my only REF of him with his back showing. I haven't updated his back design yet, but the final product will be much different.

Eventually, I decided to make his shoulder-braiser things orange instead of blue, as well as the sun-like gem on his helmet. I also started working out any built-in flaws I wanted to force his character to work around--like his hands being constantly on fire, or extremely hot. This just means he has to be extremely careful touching anything or anyone. It's not something he can just "turn off". Also, I think this was my first attempt at a proper full body design for him. It's fine for a second first attempt, and I was happy with it for a few months, but eventually I started thinking it shared the bulky OG robot master traits, rather than the 'netnavi' look I was wanting.

I started tinkering with his colors again, but only made minor changes. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what was 'off' to me without a proper full body to experiment on, but I very rarely have the willpower to make one. Some of these expression snippets were more helpful for me to use to at least get a read on exactly how expressive he can be in the AU, if he wanted to. Another big thing this helped me realize was how limited his expressions felt with the current colors (like his eyelashes), especially with how dark his face was. It made his nose/mouth harder to see. I end up making it a lighter shade in future doodles. Oh, and I wanted to start integrating pieces of Duo.exe's design into him as well--like the flat nose.

Woe, Sunterra doodle be upon ye. I need to finish this some day, but a big thing this helped me identify were: 1.) I desperately need to work on poses. 2.) I needed to figure out how to give Sunstar a "soft" look. In the expressions practice above, this was one of his faces i really struggled to get down. Still working on that. 3.) Another reminder he was too clunky to match a normal Navi design. Terra looks much more 'navi'-like. I needed to do a whole ass reboot for Sunstar from top-down. Anyway! The most recent stuff will be below. A few (bad) attempts:

And then I basically went "screw it" and went goblin mode at a full body attempt. Here's what I finally ended up with :")

For now I've decided to stick with a (mostly) cool/silver base with some warm orange and yellows mixed in in (hopefully) unobtrusive ways. Maybe this will change in the future, but for now I'm happy with his design :)

The orange on the bottom of his cape is meant to be a fire-y design, but I'm too tired to refine it (or anything else) further. Hopefully I'll have more art to update. eventually.

If you made it this far, thanks for sticking around, lol.

#my art #brainrotau #mmbnau #stardroids #sunstar #megamansunstar #sketch #doodle #megaman #mega man battle network

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lazyyogi · 1 year

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The Somatic Body

Note: The following post shares my experience with body image, physical health, and spiritual practice. There are gender norms and generalizations. It is not meant to apply to everyone. I wanted to share some of my struggles and how somatic spirituality helped me grow through them.

My body type does not fit the gender "norm" for a male in the US. Growing up, I was reminded of this constantly by my mother, siblings, and the people around me.

Men aren't "supposed" to be skinny or too thin. They're "supposed" to be muscular, average sized, or even a little overweight (see: dad bod).

But me? I'm a hard gainer when it comes to weight. If I stress, I lose my appetite. If I don't exercise, I lose weight. And not in an attractive way but in a "you don't look healthy" way.

Because manhood is equated with strength and skinny is not strong, calling a man skinny is often used as an insult. I would know.

Never did I get to the point in which I hated my body or hated myself because of my body, but always I felt that my body was something counting against me. If I ever felt attractive, it would be despite being underweight.

This may sound strange, especially to women. Over the years, many female friends and acquaintances have said things like "I wish I had your problem." They couldn't understand why saying something like that is actually hurtful.

The simplest metaphor would be like me saying "I wish I had your problem" to an overweight woman. Firstly, it is not appropriate for me to be commenting on a woman's weight and secondly it is not appropriate for me to be calling it a problem.

Not to mention that, as a cis het male, having a body type envied by a woman was not the look I desired.

But I could understand how my hurt feelings were due to my own hangups and that their comments were coming from their own unhappy relationship with their body. And that would add to my feeling of sadness, because so many of the women making such comments were beautiful and of an appropriate weight.

All of this changed for me when I started somatic spiritual practices.

Before all the body-conscious weirdness of adolescence, I really enjoyed my human form. As a child, I loved dancing and running around and physically playing. But I grew self-conscious about dance and I felt repelled by the toxic masculinity of sports, and as such developed a kind of resentment and rejection toward my body.

If it wasn't conventionally attractive and if it wasn't going to be used for sports, I might as well pay attention to things other than my body.

Somatic practices brought me back to my body and realigned my emphasis to be on how my body feels. Rather than how I felt about my body. Working on my body through somatic practice involved finding where traumas and self-judgments were stored as tensions, misalignments, and numbness, then allowing release.

At the same time, the body becomes integrated more deeply into awareness itself.

As part of somatic exploration, I took up exercise as an aspect of my practice.

While I've always enjoyed yoga, I avoided strength training and did cardio inconsistently. But now I discovered what each had to offer me. Cardio elevates my mood and regulates my energy. Strength training builds my power and fortitude. And yoga integrates the two with grace and naturalness.

Because breakfast, lunch, and dinner are never guaranteed in my line of work, a friend advised trying protein pills with essential amino acids. These were a game changer and also eliminated muscle soreness, interestingly enough.

All the while, my primary aim with my exercise practice was to optimize how my body felt. I am turning 35 in April and I don't need to feel like I can wrestle a bear. I just want my body to support my path and spiritual practice. With my current practice, I feel the way I did in my early 20s, which means to say that I feel energetic and playful.

Over time, my physical form has changed to reflect how I feel. My body looks more muscular rather than underweight. And that's nice too.

But if rejecting my skinny body and seeking a muscular body were my primary or sole motivation, the whole experience would have been different. I don't know if I would have been able to sustain my motivation. Maybe I would start dreading exercise, or feeling guilty or upset when I had to skip workouts. Perhaps it would feel never enough or that progress was too slow.

As it stands, I look forward to exercising because it is part of my spiritual practice and it makes my body happy. I've come to learn that our energy is meant to be used. Life is meant to be spent. If you hoard energy in a miserly way, every little thing life asks of you will seem draining.

And while it is important to spend your energy generously, you must do so wisely. Knowing your limits is part of that as well.

There are many blessings that somatic spiritual practice has to offer us. While integration of body-consciousness into self-realizated buddhahood may be my primary interest, it may still benefit others not explicitly seeking enlightenment. Even on a superficial level somatic practices can cause profound changes in the harmful ways we typically relate with our bodies.

I look forward to sharing more on this extraordinarily useful field of spirituality.

Much love to you all.

#somaticism #spirituality #me #yoga #body #body postivity #psychology #mindfulness #awareness #zen

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