#And to be really honest I think it’s a personality disorder and I’ve done my own research and I show majority of BPD symptoms

[ajxrn-archive]

I’m going to. rip my fucking hair out.

[ijustthinkhesneat]

Outta the way I’ve got hot takes coming through!!!!!!

Dick doesn’t resent Jason pre-death: I have found no evidence to support this. He definitely has issues with Bruce but Dick taking his anger out on Jason is so ooc. I think they were never super close though, partially because Dick wasn’t around much and Jason wasn’t around that long.

The Joker Jr of it all: I honest to god don’t know how I feel about this. On the one hand if Joker Jr had had a bigger impact on canon I really would have liked the dynamic it would create and how the Batfamily would react to Tim. On the other hand this absolutely could never happen because Batman would go full serial killer at that point. I personally think Joker Jr was the best version of Arkham Knight/Dick being mind controlled by the Joker.

Damian Wayne is an asshole: Yeah I went there. I’m throwing your Cherubic God King on the pyre and what will any of you do to stop me?! I understand Damian needing a lot of time to adjust and going through an immense level of trauma but like guess what he is still a jerk. I totally hate that he so rarely gets just brutally humbled in canon. Like their is the time he picks a fight with Jason and just gets absolutely bodied and he tries to fight previously mentioned mind controlled Dick and also gets rekt. But I swear he is way to arrogant for someone who gets clapped by like every other character.

NO ONE WOULD EVER WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ANY OF THE BATS EVER IRL: Yup it’s time to address the elephant in the room. All of the Bats with the exception of Cassandra who has never done anything wrong in her life and maybe Barbara if you close your eyes and ears, are terrible people.

Bruce Wayne: Look I could forgive helping old ladies while dressed up as a furry, I could over look being an emotional nightmare, I could even see why he didn’t murder the joker. But I cannot forgive his greatest sin. Being a fucking BILLIONAIRE.

Tim: Emotionally manipulative, a liar, has zero respect for other’s boundaries, also a billionaire, no fashion sense. He is that emo boy in a coffee shop who you think is deep but he is just stoned as hell and will ruin your credit.

Jason Todd: It’s the child murder for me, It’s the being an actual drug lord for me, it’s the duffel bag of severed heads for me. Truthfully those things are iconic, but this man is PTSD ridden and armed to the teeth with guns. I would get up to get a glass of water at night, sneeze and then Stable Mabel would blow my head off.

Dick Grayson: That friend who is never okay. Dating him would be like dating any generically attractive boy in college, yeah he’s hot but the eating disorder and body dysmorphia are reaching a turning point. Have you ever met a college gymnast? I don’t think he would be as gross but like he is a cop so if his friend assaulted someone he definitely wouldn’t tell anyone about it. I feel like he would gaslight me into breaking up with him only for his jackass to show up on my doorstep at 3am sopping wet. Also he’s a circus kid, that is a theater kid with talent and no shame. He would be so fucking annoying, like you would be embarrassed to be seen with him.

[butch-reidentified]

hi. i saw some of your posts where you mention being a psychopath (or having psychopathic tendencies, i’m not sure what the correct terminology is) and i’m curious. i know someone being a psychopath doesn’t inherently make them evil or bad, but i’ve never known anyone, irl or online who was one. i have some questions.

1. what is the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath?

2. what makes someone a psychopath? are they born like that?

3. is being a pyschopath something you are diagnosed with? how do you know you are one?

4. you’ve mentioned on here that you have a wife. do you feel love? what does love mean to you?

i’m sorry if any of this is too personal. i don’t mean this to be rude, i’m just curious. i have done some research on this before but i’d like to hear what an actual psychopath has to say about it.

hi anon! don't be sorry - the whole point of me posting about it (which I honestly did not think would go this well lmao) is to educate and counter the absolutely rampant misinformation out there. this site is a pretty good resource working with actual researchers and clinicians. where I disagree with them is the classification of psychopathy as a mental disorder.

as I said in that post, I think it's a natural variation within the population that serves its own purpose.

the term itself is somewhat controversial for multiple reasons. one is the obvious: it's highly stigmatized and media representation is utterly absurd cartoon villain type shit. this does not bother me, but I have heard other people say it bothers them. regardless, I think it's a really interesting topic, which is why I want to talk about it and engage with others. the second reason the term is a bit complicated is this: outside of the actual field, barely anyone knows what it means or how it compares to "sociopath" or to the ASPD diagnosis. Psychopathy and ASPD are commonly believed to be the same; this is a misconception based on outdated information - the website I linked discusses this a bit.

1. sociopath isn't a clinical term. it means whatever the person using it wants it to mean. psychopathy on the other hand is a clinical term (but not a diagnosis!) which refers to a specific set of personality traits. Psychopathy is very much a spectrum. sort of in the way autism is, in that some people are very high in 1 psychopathic trait and low in others, another person might be high in a different 1 or 2 traits, etc. I am much higher on boldness than disinhibition, for instance, where my wife is the opposite.

2. this is a veeery debated topic. some people use the categorization of primary (born with it) vs secondary (comes from extreme abuse/trauma/etc) psychopathy. I'm not sure how much I believe in the second one, but I haven't written it off necessarily. I have had distinctively psychopathic traits my entire life. these traits have shifted and changed as I've grown, but only to such a degree, just as anyone's core personality traits do throughout growing up and all of life. The site I linked above has a page on this that is a much better take than that primary/secondary shit.

3. as I said above, no, it's not a diagnosis. and in my view, it's just a way to quickly describe people at one end of the spectrum of human emotionality/empathy/interpersonal relating. in cases like mine, it's pretty obvious to anyone I'm totally open and honest with. I'll give a couple examples.

I don't feel fear - like, at all, not even in life or death situations. I do not remember a time I have felt genuine fear as an emotion. I have felt adrenaline (though my threshold for that is reeeeally high) but the only emotion I ever end up with from that is irritability once it starts wearing off, though I haven't figured out why lmao. I don't know if this is just me or a more typical part of psychopathy, but it's fairly common for me to have the chemical/physiological side of an emotion without the emotional feeling itself - like what I just described with the adrenaline. I do experience anxiety (actually a pretty common comorbidity) sometimes, but it tends to be a very cerebral form of it, and is almost never *about* anything, just there.

I don't usually feel anything when friends or family members die. if they're very important to me, I get a little sad, but it's not very strong or long-lasting. I don't feel anything when other people are in mental or physical pain, even if I have caused it. this doesn't mean I can't care about people, just that it's a conscious decision and doesn't come with emotional attachment. my cognitive empathy is positively excellent.

I was a total nightmare as a kid. I was always always getting in trouble, and roping other kids into my unhinged (and usually dangerous) schemes. I was not always kind to other kids. I tended to manipulate peers who looked up to me for my entertainment when I was really young, but I did correct this behavior because it's not remotely worth it, and because I do make an effort to live as normally as possible and put significant effort into maintaining and adhering to a strict code of ethics (this is very difficult tbqh, but I have a high capacity for self-discipline). I was always getting in fights. I practically lived in the principal's office. I could NOT be told what to do. Punishment had zero impact. My mom wound up on antidepressants (this may have very little or even nothing to do with me, but idk & figured it was worth mentioning in case it was). I'm lucky I didn't get arrested. I realized I was headed that direction mid high school and sorted my shit out.

4. My wife and I love each other in our own way. She feels things a bit more than I do, and she DEFINITELY feels love as an emotion more than I do. But we talk openly about that, and she genuinely accepts me as I am and knows that I love her to the best of my ability, in my own way, and I go to extra efforts to make her feel loved because I'm aware that I can't reciprocate quite what she feels. That said, she is also rather high in psychopathic traits like I mentioned previously, which explains why we bonded initially over the things that we did (things I'd better not specify lol). It also means she really isn't bothered by me not being terribly affectionate, romantic, patient, or just generally any of the things most people want in a partner lmao. I do really try for her though. I definitely consistently form closer connections with other high-psychopathy individuals than anyone else. She rarely uses tumblr but is @psychichologramnightmare if you have any questions for her 😁

as for what love means to me, I think it's pretty individual. there are many components to love as we conceptualize it. love as a concept & love as a literal emotional feeling are sort of different in my mind, I guess.

[herboretum]

since i’m full of hatred and negativity i will be answering this

(to emphasize Like these are just nuances and inconsistencies i’ve found with myself and the fandom Like genuinely idrgaf i could care less about any of the points i will make in retrospect)

the anthropomorphization of unpleasant from this fandom has genuinely WRECKED its character and made it. not that unique compared to the other npcs. like i dont know it being this like fucking gooner-type character is so awful? and i really hate it? if anything that trope given to unpleasant should have stayed with scag and ended with her, since she’s a genuine npc with more writing and thoughts attached

i saw people bring up this point again and im glad but HELLO!!!!! LETS STOP JUST ASSOCIATING LAMPERT AS WALLTER AND MARK'S SON? EVEN WHEN IT HAS BEEN DISCREDITED /MULTIPLE/ TIMES? like DAMN this fandom only attributes characteristics if it is attached to literally anyone else besides that person. its horrible. people NEED to learn to find the balance between having fun with that headcanon while also acknowledging lampert as his own separate person that is (to be quite frank) not even associated with them that much in canon

(+ people saying that the headcanon of lampert being wallmark's son is canon and fucking REPLYING saying to people who ship wallter & lampert or mark & lampert that they shouldn't. you are fucking embarrassing)

more of a fandom thing but yall ship too much lmfaoo. like guys i promise, you can interpret some of these relationships as genuine friendships i promise you'll live. can we stop with the rhetoric that just because two characters have good dynamics with each other that means that theyre in love (heavily side-eyeing protoscag and lampfected and milby dare i say)

the regretevator fandom is EXACTLY like the phighting fandom with how shipping is handled. i mean this in not a positive way

people gotta stop relying on the wiki for information man. so much lore from yeucc's tumblr has been retconned and at this point, when there's now WRITERS for the game that are actually keeping tabs, all if not the good majority of what is said on the wiki should be taken with a grain of salt. nowadays the lore is unpredictable, and only a select few (by few i mean like. 4 out of the 17 npcs) has had their lore expanded on significantly

general facts i think is fine so long as theres an annotation backing it but my point still stands . moreso with lore generally

also saw this point being brought up in the qrts but the demonization and infantilization of certain characterss (cough spud pilby pest and poob) is like. wild. i dunno i can't say much since i'm very fortunate enough to not have seen that much but my god is it prevalent from what people are saying

with pest especially since he has npd and aspd i do think that. people generally associating him as evil has NOT been the greatest thing, especially since it reduces him to a stigma of people with personality disorders which is horrific and terrifying. idk what goes on in the background but i feel like the fandom + yeucc & the people working on regretevator should have done more research on the disorders and consulted people who do have these issues better instead of using those labels haphazardly

another thing i will and always will be vocal (dog on) about the axosun team is them keeping gnarpy. like there was no reason to keep xem in other than for revenue gain let's be honest and True to ourselves. the philosophy "ohh but you can separate the art from the artist!!!!" i feel does not really apply to this scenario cause xe got a whole ass revamp despite the obvious fact that it STILL is gnarpy, a character created by a bad person regardless of the ownership change and discredited history. its the underlying thought that they were essentially built off a bad origin if this makes any sense. idk i think it wouldve been better for everyone if xe were just removed ENTIRELY from the game but. you do you i guess

lastly in this essay: i think more people should Be Kinder to each other in this fandom <3 peace and love

[plural-affirmations]

Hiya so I don’t have any idea who to contact but I’ve been starting to think that I (we?) maybe could be a system. Here is a few traits I’ve noticed:

I forget A LOT of crap going on throughout my day, especially when its related to past trauma | Ex.: Yesterday, my therapist had asked me to describe a day living with my mom. I kinda forgot what happened during that conversation? She tells me that I swap how I act a lot, and don’t answer to my name as much.

My childhood is mostly forgotten, and kinda mixed with things that happen now. | Ex.: When I was trying to think of a specific childhood story, I started talking about something I did last week. I couldn’t remember the story after that.

I have, like, really complex stories and world inside my head that I can’t control very well that I see in the first person. These people try to talk to me but they’re voices sound misted.

There are voices in the my head that give me instruction, and I hear them more right before I disassociate and forget what happened. | Ex.: I have never fixed a computer before but my head started to tell me how and now my computer isn’t broken anymore.

A lot of the time I will go to bed and then wake up on the couch with a movie playing 3 hours later. | Ex.: I somehow watched half of Falcon And The Winter Soldier last night.

When I was younger these symptoms were much worse, and I would go to school and come home from school in seeming the same hour, but I could remember what my teachers taught me? | Ex.: There was this one day where I made an entire new friend, and she talked to me about stuff I didn’t like. I had 0 memories of her, except passing her in the hallway a few times.

I used to think this was just weird PTSD stuff but I’m starting to think it might be DID or any other kind of Dissociative Disorder. I haven’t done a crazy huge amount of research yet but a decent amount. These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. I’ll continue doing research, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts?

So... I can't, in good-faith, say (over the internet, nonetheless,) "yes, you're definitely a system".

I will say that, to me, those do not seem like ordinary experiences a singlet would have.

That doesn't mean it's impossible; you very well could just be forgetful or have some other condition(s) going on.

But! In my honest opinion... the things you listed sound similar to when my dissociative symptoms were at their worst. They're not like that anymore, though they definitely were at one point. I think you should definitely do more research. I'll link a post @/multiplicity-positivity made:

Research by itself can be beneficial, but I think if you start seriously considering the possibility of being plural, you should reach out to a local mental health professional.

As stated in the linked post, it's best to rule out traumagenic/disordered plurality before anything else. If you do it in the reverse order, you could have the possibility of assuming dissociative features to be non-disordered plurality, and that would be a pretty messy situation to find yourself in.

That's just what I think. I hope you find what you're needing to, anon!

Good luck! /gen

🖤💜💙💚💛

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Alright anon, I blocked you because, as I’ve said, that’s what I do with anon hate, so. But I’ll respond anyway.

Okay so first of all, and read this very carefully: this is my blog and I can do whatever I want on it. Just to reiterate in case you didn’t understand, this is my blog and I can do whatever the fuck I want on it.

Bullies attack people directly. Am I voicing my opinions to her? No. My opinions shouldn’t have any effect on her. That’s how I like it. If I saw her irl, I honestly would not bother her. Not because I don’t like her, but because I have a policy of not being a dick to people (I keep my opinions within my “stupid little community” as you call it) unless they’re a dick to me first. Even then, I’d probably just walk away from her, honestly.

I don’t think me voicing my opinions about a billionaire on my private tumblr blog with less than a thousand followers is me being rude. She won’t ever see it. Me messaging her or saying it to her face, that would be rude. And I have no doubt people have done that to both her and Timothée. And unless those people know either of them personally, I do not support those people choosing to do that.

Oh, I accept her for what she is. Sometimes, what someone is, is a bad person. Sorry 🤷‍♀️

Sure, it matters that she’s confident and happy. But she is aware that she promotes harmful beauty standards to people like her own daughter. She is aware that she is a public figure. And not only did she get that stuff done anyway, she wasn’t open about it. She lied about it. I wouldn’t mind half as much if she hadn’t lied about it. Someone getting surgery to feel better about themselves, that’s absolutely fine with me and I won’t mock them for it if they’re being honest and not hurting anyone. But she is hurting people. Her behavior has given people eating disorders. Does she care? No. If she did, she’d change her behavior. So yeah, I’m gonna say how I feel on my own blog. If you dislike that, the door’s right there.

Sure, he can date whoever he wants. Absolutely. And guess what? I can say whatever I want on my own blog. I’m not breaking any laws, I’m not contacting either of them with this or saying it where they can see it. What I think and say here has zero impact on them or their lives, which, again, is the ideal situation in my mind. So… I don’t really care if you think I’m a bully, anon. If I was, I’d be bothering them with my opinions. I’m not. However, you came onto my blog and brought your opinions about me up with me. It would not have affected me if you had voiced your opinions on your own blog without interacting with me. Notice the difference?

[compassionatereminders]

A little vent, ignore if you want:

So I have adhd and I’ve been on meds since I was very young. I’ve tried just about every med on the market during that time. But when I was in middle and high school, I developed an eating disorder and started using my meds as appetite suppressants, even lying to my psych about them not working well enough so she’d give me higher doses. I figured out what I was doing wasn’t healthy toward the end of high school when it sent me to the emergency room and made an effort to significantly reduce my med usage. Through college, I gradually reduced how often I took them and worked on improving my body image accepting my weight. It’s now been about 7 years since I’ve taken any adhd meds and I think I’m in a much better place, but if I’m being honest, my ed will probably never completely go away. Things can still trigger it, even if I have better tools to cope with it now. The problem is, I’m trying to get my masters degree now so I can get enough money to live on in my field, but being back in school has been an uphill battle. Without adhd meds, getting work done is a massive struggle. I’ve researched currently available meds to see if there was anything new that might not be an appetite suppressant, but I haven’t found anything. I just don’t want to risk going back on meds and relapsing. Im trying not to blame myself for the choices I made as a kid, but it’s hard not to be bitter that I’ve ruined what could have been a valuable tool for the rest of my life. One of the most annoying parts is that I’ve never met anyone else with adhd who has dealt with the same thing. I’ve been in multiple adhd groups and talked to people online and I’m always the only person who will never be able to medicate and it feels really alienating.

I'm so sorry you're in this situation stuck between a rock and a hard place, but I just want to say that I am so proud of you for working through your eating disorder and prioritizing your physical health even though it means that there are meds you can't use anymore. That is incredibly impressive and you deserve to be really proud of yourself for getting to this point of recovery. And I hope that you will continue to find more tools and strategies that will allow you to cope better with the ADHD without medication, but it is okay that this is still a work in progress and that it will take time and patience. You are doing a great job. I am proud and very impressed

[doubletalkingmaeve]

aries, taurus, mars, moon and 1H

Get to know me with these questions

Aries - Are you an impulsive person?

I am and I hate it. I have bipolar disorder which definitely adds to it but I’m on better medication now so I’ve calmed down a bit

Taurus - What’s your favourite food?

I like soup and curries. I like loads of foods to be honest. Pasta is up there along with just tomatoes in general 😭 I can’t give you a definitive answer because it changes constantly

Mars - Are you the type to approach others first or do you like others to do that instead?

I normally approach people first unless it’s someone that makes me really shy. I’m normally the type of friend to go up to a celebrity they like and get them to talk to them (if that makes sense, it does in my head)

Moon - Do you suppress your feelings?

I suppose in real life I don’t really talk about how I feel because my family just never done that and it’s weird to me, but online I think I’m more vocal

1H - Describe your style

My style is basically anything comfortable. I normally wear band shirts or other merch and those cycling/legging shorts. I’m good at doing my eyeliner so my style is basically: comfortable goth

[midisty]

Love= Literal gagging

Before reading my blog, just know I am no one special. I don’t mean this in a bad way toward myself, but I am not someone who had it very tough growing up. I wasn’t physically or emotionally abused. I have no trauma. No PTSD. Just borderline personality disorder, which we can get into in another post. I just need a place to vent and bitch and complain. Let’s face it. I’m an attention whore. I’m not one to hide it or even be ashamed about it. I guess that’s the performer in me and why I love singing so much. That high of all eyes being on me. If you would have asked me when I was 15 if I loved attention I would have probably denied it. Now I wear it loud and proud. I’m unapologetically myself nowadays. Flaws and my beauty. Here it is, all on my sleeve.

Todays message from my ex earlier today triggered me to start my first blog post in a really long time. Out of the blue, this guy I dated in Tennessee messaged me, saying he was in Boston, just an hour away from where I live. He asked if he could “visit” me. Not meet up. Not buy me dinner. Not go out on a date, but visit me. In other words, try to get in my pants again. This guy is a real piece of work. His name is Eugene; Gene for short. He is a bilingual, IT tech piece of shit. I met him on the bus that took us to and from our place of employment in downtown Nashville, Tennessee. What drew me to him, was his perceived innocence and the fact that he was older than me. Date #1-he blew me off. That was the first red flag. Red flag #2-“Im not looking for a relationship or anything serious”. Back in this year, I still had hope for these boy type creatures, thinking I could change his mind. I did this a lot out of fear of abandonment and being alone. I wasn’t honest with myself. Red flag #3-He avoided sitting next to me on the bus WHILE we were dating/sleeping with each other. Red flag #4-he took me out to dinner, but then had a full out conversation with our waitress in Spanish so I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. Red flag #5-He completely bailed on me for the 4th of July and blocked me for no reason. When I went to his house, crying and trying to understand why he wouldn’t talk to me, he turned me away. I moved back to New Hampshire, and this guy convinced me to stay with him for a couple nights. He said he’d pay for everything and certainly didn’t. Then when I returned home from the trip he pushed me away again, saying he was seeing someone else. Yeah. I tried way too hard and it came back and bit me.

I have a long history of jerks that I have dated. I have lost count of how many people I’ve dated and forgot names. I now have a block on my heart. No matter how much I miss the feeling of being crazy and obsessed with someone, I can’t seem to bring myself to give anyone a shot. I fooled around with a guy a couple of months ago. I gagged. He didn’t taste bad. I’m definitely attracted to him. He smelt fine. It’s just the literal thought of being with someone again makes me sick to my stomach. My sex drive and desire to love? Gone. I’m passed desperate. I’m passed hurt. I’m passed angry. I’m passed bitter. I literally just don’t want it. I may be single the rest of my life unless somehow this block can be lifted. I have been a desired side piece to marriages. I’ve been used. I’ve been lied to. I’m just done. I love my alone time with my cat. I have no desire to try anymore. And that goes for some other things too….

That’s a story for another time ;-)

[iron-fifty-nine]

gonna sit here and bitch for a minute, sorry in advance.

I think the worst part of being an able bodied mentally disabled person is the fact that you know you could do better. Even if you can’t “do better”, you sit there knowing you could do the dishes or put away your laundry or go to class if you just tried harder.

I’m working on college shit rn and my mom nearly cried with joy when she heard I actually applied. She asks me daily if I’ve moved forward with admissions. I ran into a minor problem while trying to sign up for classes and it was like hitting a brick wall facefirst at 80 mph. Every day she asks me if I’ve done what would probably take me two emails and 30 minutes of my life. I haven’t done it. Every day I disappoint her and disappoint myself because I know I can physically do better. I can do more. But my brain won’t let me. I won’t let me.

I have a violent hybrid of depression, anxiety, adhd, autism, a dissociative disorder, and years of trauma my brain can’t handle processing. I cry when I think about going to school because I’m terrified. Just thinking about going in public gets me shaking. And I’ve convinced myself I can just be better if I put in more effort. I’ve stopped putting in effort to things that hurt me. These things hurt me. And that comes back to what, to me, worst parts of being disabled: being humiliated that you’re broken, not good enough, faulty. I could be so much more and everyone knows it. I know it. And that’s really what hurts the most.

I’m smart, I’m capable, I’m kind, I’m funny, I’m proud of myself and brave, I’m responsive to people’s needs and am level headed. I’m honest, I’m truly my own person, I’m unique, I’m curious. I know I have value. But at the end of the day it doesn’t matter to society because they want to shove me through endless bureaucracy and pain to prove something. And I can’t do that. I can’t force myself to do that. I just can’t do it.

[mllemouse]

still feeling really peeved about a conversation i had on sunday with a new friend at drinks. he thinks he’s ‘mildly autistic’ and also was telling me about his reservations with trying klonopin after being prescribed for anxiety. at another point in the night, the group of friends was talking about OCD and dismissing me, and i was like, guys, i’m diagnosed OCD!!! listen to me! and now like hilariously, that convo triggered hours and hours of rumination. also part of my convo with this guy was about his dislike of pathological terms even though he kept trying to discuss things in pathological terms, after i had been like yeah, i really haven’t had a good time using pathological language with my providers yet and i don’t think it’s useful to always think in these terms. to me he came off as very attention-seeking about all of this and i really didn’t vibe with it. the friend i know him through is one of my closest people and we didn’t start having really honest conversations about mental health until like a few months ago after over six years of friendship, so idk, it doesn’t feel like i’m having a similarly honest convo with this guy. 

anyway I think what’s bugging me is that this person was explaining why they felt they had certain conditions and it felt like they were being dismissive of the severity of mine, and i still feel like i wasn’t conveying that accurately considering the entire table didn’t understand that i’m not talking about mental health conditions i’m worried about having but rather conditions i have been diagnosed with. and i’m kind of left now like... angry that people don’t understand, still having trouble accepting that i do indeed have a chronic disorder, and feeling shame about it cause i’ve spent hours and hours thinking about it but my house is gross and i haven’t done the tasks i need to do. 

and the overall take away i guess is that this has happened in a few days where i’ve skipped my meds and i can’t! fucking! do that! 

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 7: Prizes

Eddie Munson x Chubby & Inexperienced!Reader 4511 words Series Masterlist

Previous Chapters: 1 - Valium; 2 - Carrie; 3: Honey; 4: Starcourt; 5: Buzzkill; 6: Monsterous

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf's); no beta; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: This machine slays dragons.

At first, you tried to be exactly what you thought the ‘right’ thing was. Small. Quiet. Helpful. Clean. Sanitised.

If you weren’t doing homework, you were cleaning. Eddie had to literally drag you away from it sometimes. He’d pretend it was a game, kidnap the princess, but he knew he couldn’t convince you with words. Meals were cooked for Eddie and Wayne, but left mostly unconsumed by you. The washing was always in rotation. The dishes always done. Even the shower and bathtub were sparkling.

“It’s been a month,” Wayne said with a sigh. He and Eddie were sitting on the couch on the porch while you were having a shower. “Thought she’d have settled in by now,”

“Me too,” Eddie admitted.

Both the men had chalked it up to the shock of what happened, then to the stress of mid-year exams. But they had come and gone, aced by you and passed by Eddie. So, it was setting them on edge, having you slink around the trailer, trying to be useful but unnoticed. They were worried about your eating. They both hated to think you felt you owed something to them, owed them utility.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to her… about her parents and… everything.”

He really had. He even did what was absolutely against his nature and better judgment – he asked an adult for help. He had sat across from Ms. Kelley and been as vague as he could be.

“I have this friend… She’s been through some shit. I just… I don’t know. I don’t always know how to talk to her? I did at the start. But things got worse for her. Now it’s harder.”

Eddie remembered that you had said Ms. Kelley wasn’t much help to you. He was disappointed to find much the same. It was stock standard psychobabble. Discouraged but determined, Eddie asked one more person. His freshmen year woodwork teacher.

“Munson?! No. Get out. I’ve already had a fire and a sophomore cut the top of his thumb off this week. Even seeing you in here is giving me hives,” Mr. Barnes said as soon as he clocked Eddie’s wild mane walk into the shed.

Eddie threw his hands up in surrender. “Just need to ask you something. Need some advice,”

“Whatever it is – no. Stop. Don’t. Give up. It’s not worth it,”

“Nice to see your chipper optimism hasn’t waned since I graced your roll call,” Eddie said with a grin. “I’m serious though. It’s about a girl,”

“Your ex-cheerleader Virginia Woolf girlfriend?”

“Jeez. I mean, she cries a lot but she’s not throwing herself into Lover’s Lake. Not on my watch,”

“Right. What do you want, Munson?”

“I just need to know how to… cut through the bullshit. All the sadness and self-hate that being a cheerleader with shitty parents did to her. And, you’re a straight shooter, right? No bullshit. Honest. So… How do you do it? How do I do it?”

“Firstly, if you think I talk like this to my wife, you’re insane. Second…” Mr. Barnes sighed in the same way Wayne tended to. “You’ve always been a good kid. Just be yourself, Munson. Look after her like you do with all those weird freshmen that follow you around. I don’t know. I’m a shop teacher, not a goddamn marriage counsellor,”

“Right. Sorry,” Eddie replied, nodding and stepping to leave. “And, uh, sorry about the fire. And thumb. Also – there’s a rumour going around that the basketball team is going to break in a steal a bunch of tools for some senior prank thing? Heads up, I guess,”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Carver is a hypocritical pious little shit,” Mr. Barnes muttered, storming past Eddie and leaving him alone in the woodwork shed.

Just be yourself.

Look after her.

All in all, it wasn’t bad advice.

…

There was not a single thing left to do. Both you and Eddie had finished your homework. The trailer was clean. Eddie had found a barrel to set fire to a bunch of trash, letting it get co-opted by other park residents. You’d even cleaned out the van.

“Angel, come ‘ere,” Eddie called from the bedroom.

You had been standing in the kitchen, deciding if it was too early to start on lunch.

“Here here,” Eddie ordered, patting the bed when you arrived in the room. You climbed next to him, sat cross-legged between his legs. He stared at you, making you feel hot and uncomfortable. “I, uh, I’m… worried about you?” The inflection in the sentence hooked up at the end like a question. “Just want to check in. We haven’t really talked properly since… you know.”

In addition to not having talked properly, you also hadn’t let him bundle you up in his arms properly, kissed properly, or slept properly. Eggshells. All the fucking time.

“I’m fine,”

“Yeah, but you’re not. Not really,” Eddie said as gently as he could. “Listen, I get not wanting to talk about shit. So, I’m not gonna force you to talk about your feelings or go see a shrink or anything. But you act more like a maid than like someone that lives here. This is your home. And I don’t know if it was stupid of me to think, but I kinda thought you’d be happier here. With me. But… I don’t know if you are.”

The broken cognition in your mind gave you faulty logic. If Eddie thought you were unhappy living in the trailer, that meant he was unhappy with you living in the trailer. You started to cry.

Eddie was relieved when you went ragdoll in his arms as he pulled you across the bed and into his lap. He held you tight.

“I love you. I just… I need you to tell me how to help you. I’m going crazy here. And this isn’t… I’m not trying to be an asshole, but you’re kinda going crazy too. You’ve cleaned the oven like three times this week. What do you need, angel? I’ll do anything.”

It was easier to cry than speak, so you did until you couldn’t anymore. Eddie rocked you, kissed the top of your head, held you so tightly you thought you might fall apart when he let go, which you hoped he never would.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Like I said, it was stupid to think you’d be… cured… by being here,”

“I am happier here,”

“‘K, that’s good. I’m happier with you here. I’d rather you be sad here with me, where I can try to look after you, than sad anywhere else. I mean, I’d rather you be happy, but it’s okay for that to be a work in progress,”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said, making an admission that you’d been avoiding. “Everything is… it’s good right now, you know? I don’t get yelled at every day. I did good on the mid-year exams. Hayley hasn’t done anything in a while. I don’t know why I feel like this.”

Eddie understood. It was only in the safe, warm, quiet of Wayne’s trailer that he really began to feel the effects of what his own parents had done. “You’ve been in survival mode. An’ not just since Andy and quitting cheerleading. Forever? Maybe? I don’t know. A long time. Takes a while for all that shit to get out your system. But you gotta let it, you know?”

“I don’t know how,” you said, reminding Eddie of a mouse in the pocket of someone who doesn’t understand their strength. Small. Afraid. Vulnerable.

“Less cleaning, for one. Looking after yourself more,” Eddie suggested.

“You mean eat more.”

Eddie can’t remember if you’ve ever directly acknowledged the disordered eating. Hesitant to scare you away from the topic, he paused, but he decided he couldn’t leave the call unanswered. “Yeah. When you didn’t eat lunch at school you’d say it was ‘cause you had a big breakfast or had some fancy dinner thing going on. But you can’t use that excuse now, you know?”

When you nodded, Eddie took it as a huge step forward. He continued, “And, maybe we can do it together. Break some bad habits. I’ll smoke less and you can eat more,”

“We should get a sticker chart,” you joked.

Eddie snorted, then went quiet. “Actually, I might be dumb enough for that to work,”

“You’re not dumb!” you quickly countered, sitting up a little to look at him with your best angry face.

“Oh, sorry. Forgot that you’re the only one allowed to talk shit about yourself,” Eddie quipped.

Angrier face. Too cute. Eddie caught you in a kiss and melted as you kissed him back. Properly.

…

“What happens when we get to the end? It says here we get prizes.”

Eddie and Wayne both looked over at you in unison, mirroring each other in a sweet Munson moment. You were standing at the fridge looking at the charts. Eddie had bought them from the grocery store. They were clearly aimed at families with children, meant to reward behaviours like doing their homework or brushing their teeth. Primary colours and creepy smiley faces.

You were putting a sticker on yours for eating a decent size meal on Saturday night. Eddie was on his way to one for not having an after dinner cigarette.

“Guess that’s Wayne’s job as the designated adult,” Eddie said with a shit-eating grin.

Wayne grumbled, but said, “Fresh guitar strings,” as he pointed at Eddie. It wiped the grin off his face. “And, uh, ‘nother one of those teddies you like?”

Eddie was almost embarrassed at the kindness. He should have been used to Wayne’s goodness, but sometimes it still threw him. He looked over at your brilliant smile.

“I can make a Wayne bear!” you preened.

Wayne was concerned at the sound of that, but you seemed happy, so he was too. He nodded at you, then started looking through his box of records. “Alright, kids. This week’s lesson is gonna be…”

When Eddie had first come to him, he tried to make the boy feel more at home by, well, making a home. Dinners together. Movie nights. That kind of thing. He hadn’t talked it through with Eddie, but he figured it would work with you too.

Once a week, Wayne would cook something with a lot of vegetables, then proceed to give you young people an education. Bob Dylan. The Rolling Stones. Willie Nelson. Johnny Cash. Creedence Clearwater Revival. And,

“Woody Guthrie.”

Wayne sat in the recliner and talked for a bit, and you and Eddie listened, enjoying the lesson. To keep Eddie from itching out of his skin, nicotine withdrawals hitting him hard, you made him sit on the floor while you lounged on the couch behind him, brushing his hair and massaging his scalp.

“Made friends with, ah, what’s his name? You were readin’ his book at the start of the year,” Wayne recalled. “The Mice…?”

“Of Mice and Men? John Steinbeck?!” you filled in the blanks. Eddie rolled his head back and looked up at you, smiling at the memory of the novel that played a role in bringing you together.

“That’s the one.”

At the end of the lesson, filled with mostly accurate information, the three of you listened to the rest of the record without speaking. As silence filled the room, Eddie repeated a phrase that Wayne had said.

This machine kills fascists.

“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, jumping up and running from the room, quickly returning with his acoustic guitar and a pot of his D&D miniature paint.

This machine slays dragons.

“What do ya think?” Eddie asked, holding his work up to the room.

Wayne laughed, shaking his head. “There was only one Woody Guthrie, but there’s only one Eddie Munson, huh?”

Eddie smiled ear to ear, then looked to you for more praise. You didn’t need to say anything; that starry-eyed I love you so much expression was plastered all over your face. He saw the way your feet had curled up in the pink socks with lace trim he’d bought you (for reasons…) and how you sucked in your bottom lip.

Eddie put the guitar down, then looked back to you. “You wanna go for a drive?”

You were nodding and up looking for shoes before he finished the question.

“You need anything while we’re out?” Eddie directed to his uncle, who shook his head and laughed to himself as he watched you both nearly fall down the front steps, too excited to be alone.

Eddie backed the van up and tore out of Forest Hills, clouds of dust blooming along the road.

…

There was a secret kept by the weirdos of Hawkins – the location of a place safe from the judging eyes of churchgoers, the whisperings of cheerleaders, and the egos of basketballers. A place where boys would bring boys, and girls would bring girls. A place for breaking curfew and making vows.

It was behind the drive-in, hidden in the forest’s shadowy darkness. From its position, you could just make out the screen, perspective making it as small as a television. And sometimes, if the weather was right and nobody else was riding the radio waves, you could pick up the film’s audio too.

A couple of old unsalvageable cars had been left to rot there. Their seats had been pulled, left for the weirdo audience. The shells became metal to be smashed with bats and anything else, the punching bags for mistreated youth. Eddie himself had more than contributed to the carnage, kicking through one of the windscreens, watching it shatter into hundreds of pieces.

Eddie navigated back streets and dirt roads to the secret place, surprised that you hadn’t asked where he was taking you. You had been more than happy to curl up in the front seat, watch Hawkins get darker the further from the town centre you got. He parked on the side of an unmarked road and pulled a couple of old blankets from the back of the van.

“We’ve got to walk the rest of the way,” Eddie told you, holding his hand out for you to take.

“You just happen to have those?” you joked.

“Wish I could say I’m that organised, but they’re for the band gear. You know? So everythin’ doesn’t knock against each other.”

It was a short walk and a jump over a fence to get to the spot. There were two kids already there, spray paint cans in hand as they tagged the cars. You recognised them from school – juniors that hung out in the safety of the library.

“Munson,” one of them greeted.  

“Hey, man,” Eddie replied, holding his hand out for some sort of half handshake half fist bump motion. “I’ll give you guys twenty to find somewhere else to be?”

“Yeah, dude. Sweet.”

Eddie handed over the money and the boys disappeared the way you’d arrived.

Eddie turned to see you look down the hill at the drive-in, Stand By Me playing. “You know that’s based on a Stephen King book,”

“Really? Doesn’t seem like his thing,” Eddie replied.

“That’s ‘cause you’ve only read his spooky stuff. And I mean, even the spooky stuff is actually about the horrors of growing up. Monstrous adults. Loss of innocence,”

“You’re so smart,”

“Shut up,” you replied with a huff, sitting down on the ripped-out back seat of one of the cars, putting your feet up on the milk crate table.

Eddie sat next to you and cast the blankets over you both. “Never.” He grabbed the radio that sat on the crate table and started tuning it.

“Does that just live here?”

“Yeah. Last one to leave puts it in the boot so it doesn’t get rained on or smashed up,”

“Last one of… who? What is this place?”

“It’s Hawkins’ best kept secret.” Eddie found what he was looking for – not the audio to Stand By Me, but a radio station that passed the very high standard of Munson musical acceptance. “Sooooooo,”

“What?” you replied, turning to face Eddie, letting him scoop your legs up and hang them over his.

“How are you, you know, doing?”

“Right now, or in general?”

“Both,”

“In general, better. But you know it’s only been, like, a week, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “But it’s been a good week,”

“Yeah. It has,” you agreed.

“And right now?”

“Now, I ammmmm…” You paused for dramatic effect, watched how Eddie’s eyes reflected the moon. He was beautiful in any light, but basking in the very last of summer’s night time warmth, he was glorious. “Good. I feel… Hope,”

“Hope,” Eddie repeated and the word sounded like a prayer.

“That’s a big thing… for someone like me. You know? Optimism,”

“I know. I get it.” He pulled you towards him so he could kiss your forehead. “I love you,”

“I love you too. Like, probably an unhealthy amount,”

“Oh, the flattery. You’re killin’ me, angel,” Eddie sang, planting a gross, wet, and wonderful kiss on your lips. You giggled and pushed him away, which only made him tighten his grip on you. “If you want to talk about unhealthy, I have a list of thoughts that would totally get me locked up.”

You laughed at his hyperbole. “In jail or an asylum?”

“Both. Asylum for the criminally insane,”

“Eddie, you’re literally the sweetest person I have ever met,”

“Shhhh. We’ve talked about this!” Eddie whispered, looking around with wide eyes as if he was scared someone would hear.

“Oh right, sorry. Your scary reputation,”

“Mean and scary.”

You laughed again, deeply. It was Eddie’s favourite sound. Better than music. When you settled back in his arms, you looked at him, smiling. He could see something in you that had been missing since the night you let him touch you and all hell broke loose. It was like you had settled back into your skin, finally, after six long weeks.

Eddie ran his knuckles gently along the line of your jaw, upwards, until he could thread his fingers into your hair. “I love you so fucking much,” he said, voice low.

He kissed you with so much neediness that you couldn’t help but smile into his mouth. He never gave you the chance to say it back. Kiss after kiss after kiss. When you felt short of oxygen, you nuzzled into his neck as he kissed yours, nipping and sucking freely. There was nobody to be wary of anymore.  

“Good?” Eddie managed to mumble out.

“Uh-huh.”

One hand was under your shirt, sitting on the warm skin just below your bra, Eddie’s other slipped between your thighs, holding on for dear life. You had one arm wrapped around his neck for support, while your free hand couldn’t decide between clutching his necklace and running your hand up his chest under his t-shirt.

“I want,” you tried, breathless and drunk on love. Eddie paused for only a second before returning to your neck, breath hot against you. “To try… To… do more.” It was all he was going to get, but it was enough to make him groan and let go of your body to hold your face in his hands.

“Anythin’. I’ll give you anything you want,” he babbled. You liked this part. Between the sweetness and the sex there were the moments where Eddie was a mess, only a few minutes from regaining his composure but it was just long enough for you to soak up some confidence.

You wanted him to want you. In that simplicity, you were already satisfied. You wanted him to do what he wanted, to be rewarded for his patience and tenderness.

“I want you to do what you want,” you said so quickly it almost sounded like one word.

Eddie pulled away at that and looked at you carefully. Whatever he was searching for in your face, he found it, moving quickly and not requiring further instruction. He slid you off his lap and pulled the blanket from both of you. On his feet he chucked the blanket over you playfully, making you laugh as you got your head out from under it.

A lascivious grin and he was on his knees, the grassy forest floor hardly a comfortable cushion for them but Eddie wasn’t thinking about any part of himself. He had his hands on your hips, fingers wriggling to get under the waistband of your acid wash jeans.

“Can I?” he asked in a gentle voice that was in graphic contrast to everything else about him. You nodded and didn’t stop, even when he was unbuttoning and pulling your jeans down your legs.

Eddie kissed the top of your feet, your ankles, and behind your knees. He was working his way back up to you, leaving licked trails and quick kisses in his wake. When he was back at your underwear, he looked up at you to check in. Your head was rested against the seat, leaving you to face up at the night sky, stars sparkling just for you.

When he pulled your underwear down, Eddie was thrilled to find you had not talked yourself into a haphazard attempt at removing any pubic hair. You were always messing with your eyebrows and legs and he would never have said anything, but fuck, he was a happy man.

“Such a good girl,” he said almost by accident, but the way you wriggled at the praise caused Eddie to double down. “Yeah, angel? You’re perfect.” He couldn’t see the blush burn your cheeks, which was an awful shame. He would have loved it.

The gasp cut through the stillness around you. You almost startled yourself with it. But the feeling of Eddie’s tongue making contact with the most sensitive part of you was cataclysmic. His arms hooked around your thighs, pulling you closer to him and him deeper into you.

Your hands waved around looking for something. One landed in Eddie’s hair, immediately tangling into the curls. The other found Eddie’s hand. He took yours, somehow managing to rub his thumb along your skin, like he wasn’t doing ten other things at once.

It was harder to breathe and you felt so hot, pushing the blanket not just off but away from you entirely. You thought maybe Eddie should fold it up to kneel on, but thinking was a mistake. Another thought popped into your head. What if those kids came back? What if someone else arrived? What if someone was watching?

“Angel, you with me?” Eddie’s voice brought you back down to earth. He was looking at you, lips wet and eyes concerned.

You nodded. “Yes. Yes. Ah-huh,” you answered.

Eddie grinned, and kept his eyes on you as he returned to work. He watched as your head lolled back again and your mouth opened. When he was sure he had you, he let his eyes close like yours.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in confidence. You wouldn’t have known the difference, and it didn’t matter anyway. Eddie felt you climbing and climbing closer and closer. He kept a strong hold on your hand, and with his other, he helped you along.

Eddie didn’t think he was moving with any sort of hesitation, so maybe you just knew what he needed to hear. “It’s okay,” you said on a breath out. Your history with, well, fingers, was complicated. But, you didn’t just trust Eddie – you wanted him entirely. “I’m okay. You can… Please.”

Your good manners were going to be the death of him.

Although you were plenty wet, Eddie spat on his fingers before gently slipping one into you. Your back arched and you pushed his head harder against you, much to Eddie’s infinite delight. When he had you panting, he added a second finger, never letting his mouth leave you for long.

Eddie’s movements were all synchronised, melodic even. His thumb running back and forth over your hand. His fingers curling inside you, pumping fast enough to have your legs shaking on either side of his head. His tongue lapping around his fingers and up to your clit, where he’d stop to suck, forcing whines to come from your mouth.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he crooned. He thought he heard you try to say his name. “S’okay, I got you.”

Eddie remembered then, once before you had asked him to keep talking. The closer you got to an orgasm, the more Eddie focused on the pacing of his fingers, but he kept his mouth to you, talking almost against your skin.

“Come on, angel,” he whispered with increasing desperation. “You can do this. I got you. I got you, baby.” The talking – it was working. You were writhing and whimpering and nodding. Eddie grinned. “Such a good girl. Such a good, good girl. Yeah?” He definitely heard a broken ‘ah-huh’ come from you. “You so soft, baby. My little angel.”

You were so close. It was all consuming. You’d lost control of your body at least ten minutes ago, somewhere at the point of fingers. Eyes shooting open, you let go of Eddie’s hand to pull at his hair with both your hands and you just… let go.

It wasn’t like with the other girls. The wetness that pooled around his fingers and dripped along his arm. The way your body clenched around him, then shuddered erratically as you came down from the high.

Eddie licked you clean, kissed you once more, then stood. He pressed your legs together, then stranded you on the seat, holding his weight above you, a hand against the backrest on either side of your head. With your eyes closed and your mouth in a wide, closed-lipped smile, you looked stupidly happy.

Eddie laughed and kissed your forehead. “Come on, angel. Let’s go get milkshakes.” And just like that, he was up again, helping you stand on shaky legs and step into your underwear and jeans. “You good?” he asked when you still hadn’t spoken.

You looked at him, mouth open ready, but nothing came out. You just nodded, gave him that same stupid love drunk smile.

“Did I do that good?” Eddie asked with a chuckle.

“Mmmhmm,” you replied, biting your lip.

“For the record,” he said, taking your hand and setting off back in the direction of the van. “You taste good, babe. Tupelo honey good.”

You cackled with laughter. “Did you have that one all lined up ready to go?!”

“Ah-hah!” Eddie yelled, coming to an abrupt halt, turning around after you bumped into him. “I knew that would get you talking,”

“Shut up,” you deflected, walking around him. “I want a strawberry milkshake.”

Eddie jogged to catch up, grabbing you around the waist and walking with you step by step, making the walk back physically awkward, but beautifully happy and perfectly carefree. Finally, something perfect.

NEXT CHAPTER: Interlude

End Note: Okay, so how perfect was it that I used Of Mice and Men in the beginning of this fic, then we get 'this machine slays dragons,' and Guthrie and Steinbeck being friends. Oh yeah, it's all coming together.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooexxpressoo @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob - I'll DM you @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03

[furiousgoldfish]

Personal post; on trauma, measures to deal with osdd, and this blog

I'm at a weird place right now where sometimes, I can be functional for a little while, and then sometimes not, and I've learned that for my specific condition, it simply takes a lot of maintenance and constant actions I have to do in order to stay functional. This kills my vibe because I don't like routines, I don't like having constant chores to do, I always wanted to live impulsively and do things as they come to mind. I've been resistant to the idea that I have to maintain my mental health constantly, but at this point I have to admit that doing the maintenance and being functional is far far preferable to not doing it, and then falling out of function, and being in a lousy shape in bed in chronic pain and exhaustion.

Stuff I need to do isn't the regular self care, it's dictated by alters and their wants. It seems that as a kid, I had to be separated and dissociated from any human need, so most of the time I will just want for nothing and feel zero desires. My alters are the ones holding all of my needs and wants, and for a long time, I've been just shutting them down, because I didn't think I could fulfill any, I didn't think it makes sense fulfilling it, I didn't believe it would make me happy, and I didn't think I should indulge too far with alters anyway because of some bad advice I read on the internet (haven't we all).

Indulging with my protective alter led me to take care of my appearance a little more and to communicate with people in ways that makes sure I get something out of it, which to me personally sounds utterly evil, but they're convincing me it's normal to have both-sided gain in an interaction. Indulging with my child alter has led to me going to parks more, sitting on swings, eating more candy (so much candy), being randomly silly and just doing ridiculous cringy stuff that I personally don't see a point in doing, but if I do it, my child alter doesn't cause me to fall into depression, and that is a very worthy goal to pursue.

Sometimes, however, maintenance doesn't help either, and I'm currently in that state, stuck in the bed, unable to go out, or do chores, take care of myself or my alters, and I've been simmering in guilt for days, only to finally accept it now. I'll be able to move, when I'm able to move, and no amount of shame will help me get there sooner. I didn't fail and cause this, I'm ill and that's not my fault. If all I can do is stay in bed, then it's my best, and I have to accept that.

I don't know if I've been leaving an impression of a person who is doing well or is well put together, if I'm honest, a lot of this blog was written while I was just done having flashbacks, or trauma episodes. Sometimes I would write it still crying or engulfed by rage, and then after a few days when I would gather my thoughts better, I would re-write it or write it again. I would also write every time I had a realization, or when I would realize a certain problem came from a certain type of abuse. Some posts were created after research, some when I realized some other things weren't obvious to everyone. Sometimes people would talk to me and I would realize where exactly they needed reassurance or additional info, and I'd write about that. And most often, I would just write it to myself. I don't get anyone saying these things to me, and when I write them out to myself, I feel comforted. I feel better, if I'm kind to myself. And then if other people agree, I feel as if they've comforted me too, just by saying 'yeah, that's correct!' or 'I needed to hear this too'.

I remember some 10 years in the past, I was just coming down with ptsd, and I didn’t know what it was, it was a spiral of panic to discover that nobody really knew anything about it. In the place where I live, it's not recognized as a real disorder unless you've participated in a war. I talked to several psychologists, psychiatrists, and a wide variety of people to see what they thought, and nobody recognized it or could tell me what was wrong with me. If I mentioned I suspected it was ptsd, I would be shut down immediately, by every single person. I read every book and every article I could find, rummaged thru any blog and social media, talked to other people who struggled with abuse and still I learned obscenely little. Or, the things I've learned were already obvious to me, and a lot of information was plain wrong, unhelpful, biased against victims, silencing, explaining away, blaming, shaming, teaching how suppress or ignore symptoms, teaching how to forcefully push the emotions back in, how to endure more, how to pretend to be normal. I resented it. I didn't want to repress or act normal, I wanted to explode and feel everything at once, even if it killed me. Soon I was to realize that, it would, in fact, kill me if I continued to try to do that. I learned very slowly that I have to feel only in small waves and episodes, if I want my life to be livable in any way.

I went on to study everything about child abuse and ptsd that was possible to find for 5 years. I was disturbed by the lack of resources, and kept gathering what I knew, kept exploring how it worked on myself, and I felt guilty for every piece of knowledge I harbored, because I knew it should be shared. Everyone should know it, everyone should have resources, and know that abuse effects us in this way, that this is what happens. Speaking to people in private had no results, because this isn't the stuff people want to hear, it's stuff they have to discover. Pushing this on people has only bad results. Nobody wants another person to explain their life to them. It's rude, presumptive and ineffective.

When I started writing, I was relieved I could finally put out what I knew should be available, but I was also cautious and afraid, because at that point I knew that I was taking a stand against something powerful. I expected to be shut down immediately, and by a miracle, I wasn't. Very few people attacked me and fought against my information (for instance, insisting children need to be hit, trauma shouldn't be talked about, traumatized people need to just suck it and stop being the way they are), and I could easily see their motivation, shutting down victims, protecting abusers. So I could easily block them and know that this is not an opponent to argue against, I just needed to convince the victims that they're right.

It took a long time, way longer than I expected, to get to the serious backlash, and at that point I wasn't surprised. In the meantime, so many other trauma-resource blogs popped up, I felt that even if I am taken down, the change has been made. I don't think I've contributed much, the survivors themselves started figuring it out, just like I did, and stood against what was hurting them. They've changed the public mindset, shared their knowledge, and helped others escape from abuse. I couldn't be more happy or grateful for it. Predictably, the backlash came for all of us, and it surprised me that at this point, we all were a threat enough for abusers to actually organize and attack us as a group. I haven't seen that before, though abusers do very much validate each other and support each other's ways whenever interacting, they usually rarely go for group effort to subdue victims, and I only hope that we can do the same, organize and stand our ground as a community.

I felt isolated when when I was first targeted; and there was the initial shock at the hatred and contempt that was shown to me, twisting my words back to me and assuming the worst intentions. When it happens, at first you can't react calmly, you feel like it's deserved, you doubt yourself. I questioned if I did write something harmful, and even if it was a long time ago, was it irresponsible and harming someone? Do I deserve people to unconditionally despise and hate me for my wrongdoings? But in the end, I realized it mattered very little what I wrote. It would have been misrepresented, twisted and used against me anyway. Anything can be taken out of context and presented as evidence of an 'evil monster' if someone tries hard enough – and of course these people tried very hard.

These people didn't want an apology or admission of guilt, which they could have easily gotten from someone as easy to guilt as me – they wanted a complete shut down, deletion of all of my content, my blog erased. I knew that wasn't right. Thousands of messages thanking me for the content, saying how it helped them feel less horrible, or even escape, that wasn't fake. If I was wrong once, it didn't mean everything I ever did needed to be destroyed. The fight isn't against me personally. It was just about suppressing information about abuse, and protecting abusers.

I later found out that all of the blogs that were most heavily affected by trauma were targeted – people struggling with ptsd, cptsd, did, osdd, all of those hit by the extreme abuse were now scapegoated and written about in modern-type language as 'bigots and ableists', like it made any kind of sense that people struggling the worst and sharing advice, comfort and resources, would be someone who needs to be kicked out of the community. The words 'violent' were thrown into every accusation, as if the action of spreading support and information to victims of abuse could be any form of violence. Abuse of language to accuse victims of what they will find the most triggering – violence.

Due to the harassment and threats, for a while, writing this blog became a problem for my mental health. My protective alter told me to back out of it, and some of my friends, horrified when I told them whats up, told me to give it up. But I couldn't do it. The messages of people telling me how my work helped them, are the only thing that kept me going thru my ptsd. Often in the past, I was doing very little except for writing this blog, and people coming to tell me that it helped, were the only proof that I wasn't worthless, proof it was good that I was still alive. It was even comforting me to read my own blog sometimes, when the self doubt kicked in.

Abusers then decided then to attack anyone who dares to interact, and of course, by using the modern language of anonymous message saying 'block this person, they're actually the big bad in the world, you're evil for sharing this!'. And it was always anonymous, because they always had something to hide. I thought it would be very obvious what they're doing, because harassing victims is so obviously evil, but I realize now it would work, because the targets of it are the children, mostly abused children, that the abusers are intimidating and very loudly insisting do as they say. Of course it would work on children. Of course the most loud and scary person telling them to distance themselves from abuse resources because the writer is secretly evil, will sound normal and legit, and it will be something they're compelled to obey. This again, prompted me to consider if what I'm doing is helping, because now there's kids being harassed over it, people getting intimidated and scared from the backlash directed at not me, but them. But then we'll be going back to the past. To the place where resources don't exist. That's exactly what the abusers want.

And I considered doing so many things to migitate the damage, to re-direct it back to myself, to try to defend myself – and I couldn't do it. Because it's already been enough of arguing. Someone getting convinced on a single user twice over whether they're good or bad, is just extra stress. It doesn't hurt me the slightest if there are many people considering me to be evil or malicious. I just need to make sure that the resources are still available. It's what's being fought against, and what I'm trying to protect. Even if my contribution is just a small one, if it helps someone, it's something worth protecting. And I love writing this blog. I'm surprised at how much I still have to say, almost every single day. Abuse is so prevalent and integrated in this world, and the effects are so overwhelming and lasting, that there's no end to writing about it.

[noco7]

What do you think of All Stars and how the writers handled the characters?

Now, I don’t know how much of a hot-take this is, but I don’t find All Stars that uniquely bad, at least for Total Drama. Unjust eliminations and lost potential? I’m a Noah stan who had to watch I See London, and then see Blaineley take his place. Villain that nobody votes out despite the obvious? I’ve watched Heather dodge elimination after elimination in Island and World Tour alike. Random evil mental disorder? That’s just Trent in Action, baby. All Stars is more of the same bad writing, just cranked up a little higher and all at once. But it’s still the same bad writing. Tho, I may be a little biased here. Not because I like All Stars, I don’t - but I knew how bad it was before I watched it. I had seen the rants about every major plot point before I watched a single episode. So I never had hopes for the thing. Perhaps that explains my detachment during viewing. And I'm gonna be honest - I *don’t* have strong feelings on most gen 1 characters, so it’s hard for me to work up the passion about their character derailment. 

But if you still want my specific thoughts on each character:

Courtney: As one of the few gen 1 characters I do care about, I should probably be more mad about Suddy Muddy Sundae then I actually am. But uhhh. I actually like it when Courtney is evil and mean, lol. So the idea of her betraying a close friend? That’s funky, that’s cool - in isolation, that is. In the context of the show, it doesn’t really work. There’s no foreshadowing to the twist, there’s no gradual darkening of her character. It’s just “And Now Courtney does something Evil.” Great. My condolences to anyone who watched this show blind and thought they were getting a character development arc. Probably felt like a slap in the face. But out of context, the idea isn’t that bad. 

It's like that Game of Thrones thing, with Daenarys going evil. Could it believably happen? Sure. But should it have happened so fast? NO.

Gwen: ... Ehh. I think this season was trying to redeem her from WT. That's why she's trying so hard to apologize, that’s why Gwuncan breaks up. And that’s why Gwen says "he wasn't your boyfriend.” I don’t think she was trying to lie, but that the writers wanted us to genuinely believe that, retcon style. But overall, she was fine. A little weird, because WHY is she trying so hard to makeup to Courtney, the girl she was barely friends with? WHY would she ever go back to Total Drama, the show that she hates being on, just for the girl that wasn’t even that good to her in the first place? That’s weird. But “character derailment,” is a lot easier to swallow when it makes the character a nicer person, isn’t it? Also the joke in the beginning where she's the only villain character trying to be sincere and help the team is pretty funny.

Aleheather: I’m grouping them together because they’re very similar people. Evil, conniving villain that no-one really trusts because they’ve seen it all before. They do both get more stupid in AS (why would Heather just leave the victory idol? and why does Alejandro not like... do more with the Mal plotline). But they’re still funny in their own rights. But as a ship, they were disappointing. I think that's because the writers did not know what to do with them after they got together. Which tbf, isn't just a TD problem. A lot of stories end when the characters get together. The romantic plotline is fulfilled. So what are you supposed to do in the sequel, when the Will-They/Won't-They is done? What now? TD's answer was just to pretend that their romantic arc WASN’T finished. So now they're back to hate-flirting, in the exact same way they did in WT. I think a person who cared more about Aleheather (@tdsierra) would probably have a lot more to say about the ship in All Stars, that might even contradict what I say here. But this is all I have to say on them.

Duncan: I don't hate him in AS. I think the whole "no one can know im a nice person," although exaggerated in AS, is true to Duncan as a character. He always had a masculinity so fragile a tap-dancing ant could break it. So whatever, I guess. Probably didn’t help that the girlfriends who used to boost his ego - Courtney and Gwen, left him behind. Tbh, he might be the best written character on All Stars. His ending of blowing up Chris’s house and going to jail does feel odd though. It’s such a sad end to his character. In TDI he was growing to open up, but in AS he’s so defensive that he ends up in jail. I don’t think it’s a bad ending persay, that he regressed. But it’s definitely sad to see. Also the bird he was friends with was ridiculously cute. I love that bird.

Sierra: Gonna be honest, although she is very different in AS - (in a like, psychosis way, when she never had them before) I don't know if I'd call it "character derailment," that she’s still obssessed with Cody and still a creep. Because honestly, I don’t think she ever stopped being one. We’ve never seen her acknowledge her actions as wrong, nor has she apologized/promised to do better. Even in the episode in WT where she accepts being Cody's best friend, she also tries to kiss him again. Perhaps this is the true hot take - Sierra never underwent character development in the first place. I also don't understand why she's on the Hero's team. Was it *heroic* when she stole Cody's underwear? Was it? Did the writers just put her there so as to even the numbers? Or did they buy into the idea that Sierra is a good person, despite being a stalker, because stalkers act out of “love,” and she always just wanted to “protect him.” And therefore, she’s a hero. But perhaps it’s just that she’s not a standard villain. All TD villains are in it for the money and have master-ish plans, while Sierra... does not. I guess that’s close enough to being a hero for AS team designations. Anyway, Sierra should have been cut from AS all together. Nothing here adds to her character, she didn’t belong on the heroes team. [However, if they put her on the villains team and she had to grapple with the idea that her actions were evil and terrible and learn from that... honestly could have been a baller redemption arc.]

Lindsay: Whatever. She was there for one episode, what do you want me to say? Lol. I guess I could say that I don't think she was "character derailed" (she has voted for herself before, and has been bad at voting, so I don’t think it’s OOC for her to vote for herself. 

SECOND GEN

Sam - I agree he should have been replaced with Brick. He doesn’t have anything to do this season. It is touching that he wants to be a mutant to be with his mutant gf though.

Jo - they did her such a disservice im crying thats my girl!!!! like she was such a cool character who had obvious development that needed to happen, and then they just chose not to. It's so weird. Especially when Cameron is on the show, and there's already a history between them. They could work smth out! Or not, but still. And if Brick was indeed on the show - that's another avenue for development! I love Jo, and she was still funny on AS but... they should have taken the chance to flesh her out. But they didn’t.

Honestly, the 2nd gen characters deserved more focus. And I'm not talking about Mike and Zoey, but Lightning and Jo. 1st gen had 3 whole seasons already to flex, but 2nd gen had only one shortened season. As such, maybe focusing on them would have been better.

Lightning: Man also deserved better. He was very funny though. But still.

Scott: This one's weird, because AS Scott is funny, but he is also a completely different person from ROTI Scott. I don't know what I would change about AS Scott, other than make him more like ROTI Scott. Also maybe he and Cameron could have teamed up to expose Mal, considering Scott also has experience with Mike's Alters.

Cameron: why did they make you so stupid. and why was he not able to expose Mal earlier? why? i did like the scene where he used Scott as bait for Fang tho. That was really funny. And I always wished Cameron had ended up as the Villain of ROTI, so it was gratifying.

Mike - ugh. Using his DID as his only plot point was bad enough in ROTI, but to also use it as the main plot of AS? Really guys. Read the room. Also, they were wrong about alters, and as multiple people have said, Mal should have been more of a protective alter, rather than just evil for the sake of it. But I think Mike was always a kind of boring character because his main/fronting alter is Mike. And Mike's just a boring guy. I feel like TDI was trying to do the activist thing where "people with X can still be good people!" and so you get the blandest characters. Think of the Love, Simon movie. "im such a normal guy EXCEPT im gay." that's the vibe with Mike. "im a normal guy EXCEPT i have DID." to prove that people with DID can be "normal." But it stops the character from being interesting, and also... is *normal* the thing we need to be aiming for? There's a lot of interesting discourse around that, but that's not important for this post, lol.

Zoey - she's Zoey. She wasn't a great character to start with and she's not a great character now. And she's also very stupid - Mal has that effect on people. It's hard to have strong feelings on a character you never cared about in the first place.

Overall I'd say that TD had a bad vision of making their most "evil" villain yet, and what makes a villain frightening is how much power they have over their victims... but the victims were all capable people who had won survival shows and were known for being smart and/or athletic. And instead of taking that into account and writing the villain better, they just... forced all the victims to be stupider. 

I think they should have written All Stars as a “wrap up loose character development season,” instead of coming up with a mega villain plot. Because total drama fans are in it for the Characters more than anything else. So just focus on growing them, and people would have been happy.

[jincherie]

important; please read

hello everyone! long time no see! to be perfectly honest, I'm pretty ashamed at how long it has been since I have tended to this blog.

To cut a pretty long, convoluted story short: this past year has not been good to me.

In fact, I could argue that as it went on, it just got progressively worse. My mental health has taken the biggest blow it ever has in my life, and to be honest that makes me a little ashamed because I thought I would be able to handle myself better after how harshly it suffered when I was living with my mother. The culprits are anxiety, stress, and the somewhat-recent diagnosis of ADHD and a mood disorder that throws me into depressive bouts every so often. I have always been easily overwhelmed, but this past year it feels like that has been the only way I have lived.

My room hasn't been truly clean in over a year; I'm constantly drowning in clutter both literal and figurative because I'm so overwhelmed I don't even know where to start sorting it out and tidying it up. My grades have suffered, my body has suffered. As I write this I am also writing a 'show cause' response for my university because I haven't made satisfactory progress through my degree and if it continues the result will be expulsion. fun!

This is probably oversharing, but to be honest everyone here has supported me so much, so long, that I think you deserve to know what's been going on behind the scenes.

I did start to get a little bit better around the start of the year, actually. But that progress went down the drain faster than it was made due to the unfortunate combination of emotional distress caused by my mother being herself, one of my much loved family pets passing away out of nowhere, and my grandmother having a number of heart incidents only for the last one to lead to the discovery of something cancerous on her lungs. I am not having a good time.

I am so fucking ashamed of myself for letting things get so bad, despite the admittedly little control I had over it. I have still so many things I want to write and finish and so many ideas that I wish I could just will into existence that it's not even funny. I want to continue to write and create without having this tremendous stress hanging over my head all the time. I can't even think about writing on a good day without feeling so damn guilty because there's so many things I need to write, and so many other things in my life that I also need to be doing. It's overwhelming.

I am at the point where I have to acknowledge, however, that I cannot keep up the lifestyle I used to and I need to put more priority into certain parts of my life. And so, I need to announce a few things.

I will be going on indefinite hiatus for the time being.

This will be my first official hiatus. I intend to continue my writing at some point, however it's not something I will be able to even think about doing until my current semester is finished and I have some control back over my life.

I will be refunding all commissions received that have not been completed and posted.

this is something I should have done a while ago, but I didn't want to hand the towel in because I wanted so badly to write the wonderful things that were submitted as commissions. I wanted to show my thanks for the support given to me, and above all else I didn't want to disappoint. However, as a result I probably ended up disappointing you all even more.

To those who commissioned me and didn't end up receiving the goods that you paid for in a timely manner, I sincerely and wholeheartedly apologise. In all honesty, I feel so fucking awful that it almost makes me sick. It was never my intention to take your commissions without fulfilling my end of the transaction for so long, and for the fact that it ended up that way I cannot apologise enough. It has broken the trust you had in me and I don't think I will stop beating myself up about that for a while. You who supported me so willingly deserve better than the way this ended up.

Those who commissioned me, please message me your paypal details and how much you paid -- please send it to @jooniecherie. I will be refunding the money as soon as I see the message. Again, I can't apologise enough for making you wait so long.

There are a number of commissions that I started and are part-way completed. I will be endeavouring to complete these and post them after my hiatus, but those who commissioned them will still be refunded.

Ultimately, I am so incredibly sorry that my own personal issues and struggles have bled out to affect others in such a way. A number of you have worried about me and checked in, and for that I am eternally grateful. I'm fine without really being fine, if that makes sense? But I'm grateful for the support I've gotten over the years, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to live up to expectations. I hope to do better, but first I need to heal myself and my life.

Thank you for reading this. I sincerely hope that you're all doing better than me, and I hope it won't be too long before I'm updating you all again. <3

[chained-to-the-mirror]

Some introspective rambling about eating and weight under the cut!

I’m going to go ahead and ramble publicly about some personal things. Maybe it will help someone - maybe me, I don’t know.

If you have followed my blog for a long while, you may have come across my post with a self portrait (not the recent one, the one longer ago) that also had a ramble about my history with eating disorders. I think it was in 2019, and I was genuinely in recovery back then. Food was not really an issue for me, though I still was binging sometimes. It just didn’t come with guilt.

If you haven’t seen that post, to recap: I have a history of various eating disorders, and a few hospitalizations, all in some part related to those eating disorders. That history begins arguably when I was about 7-8 years old, and has continued for most of my life. In 2019 it had been quite a few years of relatively smooth sailing when it came to food - it had been about 6 years since I was last inpatient, and I was feeling confident that I was moving away from those things with every passing day. There was a short relapse in 2020 (I think) but it passed rather quickly. 

Recently, about two months ago, I started intermittent fasting. It has been a great decision for me in general - the 15:9 rhythm suits me perfectly, and I have only had one minor binge since I started. For the longest time I was high on routine and balance and feeling good and light. 

Then I had some blood tests done, and my usually super high HB was down by a lot. It’s still in the normal range, but I can definitely feel the difference. I’m having a follow up doctor’s appointment next week, having taken an iron supplement for a bit first. This was just inconvenient, but not really that big a deal. But anyway, I had the bright idea to track my eating for a week - to see if I really am not getting enough iron. So, I used a calorie tracking site.

A bit of history about me and calorie counting. At my very worst (2005-2007) I was literally weighing the spices I used in my food. I tracked EVERY calorie, meticulously. It was like a religion for me. I also tracked the carbs/protein/fat in everything I ate - even while in the end I was taking in 500 or less calories per day. It was a full on obsession that came with a bunch of other obsessions, and for years and years after I stopped tracking them I had the automatic calorie counter in my head. I thought I would never get rid of it, but somewhere around 2020-2021 I finally did.

But now? I tracked my eating for a week, as planned. Turned out I was not getting nearly enough iron - or protein. Or vitamin B12. No wonder I have been sort of tired all the time. So, in that sense it was good that I did the tracking. It was useful information. I have started taking a B12 supplement since then.

The bad news is that the calories were tracked too. That’s what the site is really for, let’s be honest. And I noticed I was not eating as much as I had thought. The first day of my tracking, I had 1600 calories. The next day, 1400. Then it was around 1500 on all other days of that week. I was surprised, genuinely. I was not hungry, I was not suffering from cravings. I thought all was fine. But apparently I am eating about 500-1000 cals less than I need every day. And I guess I had been eating that way since the fasting began.

Now, it must be pointed out that I am quite overweight, so it’s a good thing that I’m eating less than I burn. All this would be great, if it didn’t come with the baggage of my brain and the thoughts that spring up. Like: I must continue tracking the calories, to make sure I stay below 1500 calories per day. But not too MUCH below that. I managed to resist for like three days, and then I was back on that site. It’s a reputable site, and for a regular person it would be fine. I should not have gone there. I have managed to not weigh my foods to get the exact calories, but I’ve estimated with a LOT more thought than is necessary. I can admit that now, because I feel like I have to step in for myself. 

Today I have not counted a single calorie. I had a home cooked meal, no idea about the calories. I have had chocolate. I didn’t hold myself back from eating. I think I ate about the same as the other days, but it’s been different. More like when I started the fasting and everything just fell into place. I hope I can continue to just be intuitive with all this.

The real reason I was supposed to write this was the issue of weight. I have not stepped on a scale since 2012 I think, and even then my back was turned because I didn’t want to be told the number. I was lighter then, in my estimation, but I was very much troubled with all things eating. And I have not owned a scale in years and years, because that was another of my obsessions when I was worse. I weighed myself multiple times each day, and my mood was completely tied to the number. (Except at my rock bottom when it just didn’t matter anymore - I just had to continue my routines no matter what.) I don’t ever want to go back to that. But recently I’ve become curious. At the calorie counting site I had to enter my current weight, and goal weight. I have no frame of reference for what my current weight is, so I estimated. But what is the truth? I’ve been thinking about it for about two weeks now, and last time I saw my nurse, I brought it up. I told her that I had no idea what I would do if I actually got the real number. It could go any which way. It could be way higher than my estimate - in which case I would have a panic/self loathing attack of epic proportions. It could be right, which would make me disappointed. Or it could be lower, which would… and that’s what I don’t know. It might trigger me to cutting the calories further. This is the reason I have not attempted to diet, despite being hugely overweight for years now. Because what if.

The nurse told me that I have to make my own decision, of course - but there is always an option of getting weighed when I go to see her. And this has kept my mind running in circles since my last visit. I have been going from ”yes” to ”no” on a loop. I have asked for advice from friends. And they have all been wise and told me that I have to really consider WHY I need to know the weight now, and what are the pros and cons of knowing. Well, friends, if you are reading… I have not been able to come up with a single reason why I need to know my weight. There just isn’t one. The only reasons I can think of are unhealthy, and lead to worse outcomes and quite possibly a lot of unnecessary suffering. So, I guess I have decided that I don’t want to OR need to know. I will try to go on as I have before, because for a good while it was working for me. Why try to fix something that already works?

The conclusion of this ramble? I have been humbled to admit that I may not be as recovered as I previously thought. I’m not in any acute danger of a bad relapse, but I do feel like I just closed a door to a dark downward staircase, at the last moment. I can lean on the door, but I won’t enter. It’s not worth it, it never is.

Thank you to anyone who read this. I feel calmer after writing it. I will tag this with some basic tags, if there is another tag you want me to add, let me know. I hope this only brings light and not darkness.