#((I think this makes it easier for people to read ))

[ot3]

like this entire post is so crazy to me why are we taking writing advice from people who admittedly will not read a long paragraph. this person is, according to their bio, a webcomic artist and animator. two formats notoriously different in their pacing and writing from longform prose. why is their opinion about a paragraph being too long something tens of thousands of people are taking seriously. their proposed advice for the 'correct' way to break up a paragraph, if followed, would mean every book in the world had exactly the same rhythm to it. what are you tallllking about. i know i can say whatever i want about them here because im leaving it all in one paragraph that's definitely too long for them to give a shit about. making your paragraphs 'easier to read' is only a universal positive if you think the goal of prose is to be as unobtrusive to the story youre telling as possible. so much writing advice online feels like it comes from people who seem to consider reading something they have to suffer through to get a series of events conveyed to them and not like, the actual medium by which the art is made??

[abiatackerman]

A stupid promise

Levi Ackerman x Female Scout Reader

Canon universe! Fully Romance! Age gap! Sweet!Fluff and comfort! 1.4k words!

Summary: Falling for a captain who's 10 years older than you was stupid. Making a promise with him in the middle of the night was stupider!

Tags: @laevieee @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @itsnathateasy @violentvaleska @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7 @ellazenin

🩷If you wanna be tagged let me know🩷

✨Masterlist✨

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Falling in love with someone who's almost 10 years older than you is crazy. But it feels more like stupidity than craziness when the man is not just "some men" but technically your superior and the leader of your squad.

You can't blame yourself. His handsome face always makes people think that he's in his 20's. You thought the same too. But when you heard from Petra that he's actually in his thirties, you were heartbroken.

This is actually maddening how his behaviour gives you hope too! Why can't he just act rude and stoic just like he behaves with other soldiers? Why does he have to nod whenever you would smile and wave at him instead of ignoring you? Why does he have to act more gently when he's teaching you how to fight? Can't he understand he's making this too hard for you?

You rub your temple as you close the book you were reading with frustration. You know it's your fault, you always act gentle and sweet around him even though his expressions are scary. But that's how you actually act around everyone! Can't he just ignore you and be more rude? That'll make things easier.

"You look frustrated."

You look up at the sound of Petra's voice and remove your hand from your forehead.

"Hey sorry.... I didn't notice you."

You say softly with a tired smile as she smiles back too. She's currently your roommate, also your squadmate. You both were selected by Levi.

Petra's selection makes sense. She's a fiery soldier with amazing fighting skills. But you? Even after being taught directly by Levi the best you can do is protect yourself and escape. You tried to ask Levi why he picked you up and he just answered casually.

"You'll be able to stitch us up if we get hurt."

That's what he's answer was....

"Captain called you...."

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Petra's voice. You smile worriedly.

"At this hour? The last thing I want now is to spread rumors about us."

You say bitterly making Petra chuckle as she sits beside you.

"You're more worried about losing your self control and doing something inappropriate, aren't you?"

You bite your lower lip at her words and Petra shakes her head. She pulls you off your bed by your wrists and pushes you towards the door.

"I bet it's something serious, Y/N. You know how captain Levi is, right? If it wasn't something serious he never would have called you! He told Oluo to let you know. I met Oluo by chance in the hallway and he told me. Even he looked worried! Go!"

You sigh and nod at her words as you walk towards Levi's office. Your heart is jumping with excitement, nervousness and fear. Some inappropriate, sinful thoughts are haunting you and you can't just shove them off.

You treat Levi often so you've seen his body plenty of time and god forbid.... He's sexier even though he's short. You'd gladly let him do whatever he wants with you... Even you would be he's plaything even if he wants....

Thanks to just how crazy you are, for him.

You cough and clear your voice and knock on his door. You swear you can feel your own heartbeat.

"Come in."

The candlelight is illuminating the cozy organised room with a delicate glow. It's clean as usual and filled with the fresh smell with his....

Along with the smell of blood.....

"Captain Levi!!!!! My god what happened?"

Panicked, you run towards him. There's a huge wound on his arm which seems like a pretty deep stab. Levi is trying to stitch the wound up.

"Went to Mitras for inspection. Near the underground. Met some past rivals on the way. Didn't see it coming."

As always, blunt and straight. But you're happy he explained. Nodding you take the surgical thread from him. As you keep stitching silently you feel your hand shake slightly as your eyes tear up.

Levi doesn't even flinch, but you know it's stinging. When the tread is entering his skin, going through his muscles drawing blood in front of your eyes.... You just can't bear it anymore.

"I heard you were pretty good? Turns out you're pathetic."

You flinch at Levi's words and look at him with wide eyes filled with tears. He's not not even looking at you.....

Right, you were always delusional....

"I... I'm so sorry captain..... For disappointing you."

You mumble, focusing on his wounds again. You hear Levi sighing as he leans back a little, displaying his built abs and chest in front of you, making you blush.

Right, his upper body is bare. You didn't notice because you were too worried and panicked about the wound. Now that you have finally noticed it, his smell hits your nose, making you go crazy.

This can't gets any worse.

"Tch, listen.... I'm your captain, you're my subordinate. We've dedicated our hearts to kill those filthy creatures, we don't have time for whatever you're thinking. So forget it."

His words stings, but he's right as always.

You finish stitching him up and nod. Damping a clean cloth on water, you start to clean his blood off.

"That's what my brain says, but my heart doesn't listen."

You bite your lower lip after saying this. What have you done? It sounds like a stupid-common dialogue from typical romance books.

But Levi doesn't read those, right?

"Tch, how cheesy. Listen brat, you should listen to your brain, not heart. Otherwise you won't be able to survive in this shitty world and I can do that myself."

Levi tries to take the cloth from your hand but you shake your head.

"No captain. This is the only reason you've put me in your squad. Let me do my job properly, otherwise I'll feel bad."

You say looking at him pleadingly and Levi "tch"s again. You just smile a little, wiping your eyes with your shoulder and keep cleaning his wound silently. As some moments pass, you speak with hesitation,

"Please captain, don't hate me."

You say with desperation as you wrap a bandage around his wound. You patiently wait for his answer and remove your hands from his arm. And then.... You feel his hand on your head.

"Idiot, why would I hate you for liking me?"

Your eyes widen with surprise as you look up at him. He pats your head and before you realise, tears start to fall shamelessly from your eyes.

"Tch, look I don't know how to handle a girl when she cries. If you would have cried because someone has hurt you I would have beat the shit out of him but this is frustrating. Don't cry."

He pats your head awkwardly and you chuckle through your tears and wipe them off.

"Brat listen, you're a nice girl. I do hope you survive through these shits and get someone who's kind like you. Forget about me, I'm just an old man."

He says in his usual tone and you glare at him.

"What if I survive till the end with you? And what if I'll still love you in the future even when you'll be old? Will you give me a chance?"

You ask in a stubborn tone and Levi gets up from the bed.

"We'll see. If you survive and won't get bored of this old man, I might give you a chance to impress me. Now go and sleep, it's late."

Levi says those words, not looking at you. Actually he's trying to hide his smile from you. It's not secret that he's gentlest around you. Now if he's gonna show you his smile because of your adorable acts, it'll give you more hope, which he doesn't want.

"That's a promise, captain. Good night."

He looks at you over his shoulder as he tries to put on his shirt.

"Yeah, the stupidest promise this shitty humanity has ever heard of."

He says sarcastically as you laugh and walk towards the door. He's face softens as you wave him goodbye and walk out of his room.

He knows he shouldn't have made a stupid promise like this. He knows he shouldn't have fallen for you in the first place. You're his subordinate and it's just not right.

But he's a human too, with a heart. And that's why he wishes he'll be able to keep that stupid promise.

Is that too much to ask? After all the shits he has been through, can't he at least deserve this?

He sighs as he shakes the thoughts out of his head and walks towards the stove to prepare his black tea. He has a lot of shitty paperwork to do after all!

[suzukiblu]

"New WIP" Not-Wednesday: "Hurt/Comforting the Author's Own Damn Ass" Edition

So like . . . for reasons I'd prefer not to talk about just now, today is a just a very awful and sad day for me, so I'm gonna just . . . make this lil' post here, yeah. Just gonna do that! Meaning I have some niche little new fic concepts I wanna play with that are, like, INTENDED to end up as short little one-shots, and I am emotionally in a fucking PLACE right now, so fuck it, we ball and I am gonna INDULGE.

Rules: Send me an ask with the title of one of the story pitches listed below, and I will write you at least three sentences in said story. Multiple requests are fine, just please send them in separate asks; just easier for me to fill and better for flow of reading through the WIP tag later.

Robin gets nested: One of those delightfully tropey omegaverse fics wherein an emergency situation/rogue attack in Gotham results in a feraled-up Robin finding a pup on the streets and things progressing from there. Which Robin? What pup?? That is a mystery to be uncovered, friends!!!!

Bart breaks a timeline: Specifically, Bart breaks THAD'S timeline and ends up with sort-of-custody of a very small and very weird vengeance-clone who operates at a completely different speed from him, and now he has to explain that to people. Including, uh. Thad.

Jon gets cloned and is not okay about it: What it says on the tin. Jon gets cloned and said clone comes out about as "finished" as Kon did. Specifically, about the age Jon SHOULD be in comparison to everyone else right now. Everyone is totally, totally normal about this. Fully, totally, ENTIRELY normal.

be the person your dog thinks you are: Match gets forcibly adopted, much to his own disgust. By Krypto the Superdog.

two-thirds more: Just . . . this tweet, but with de-aging and very, very small superheroes. That's it, that's the pitch.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

A lot of things that seemed weird to me about the current culture of reading and writing became more clear to me when I realized that an awful lot of people are perceiving both reading and writing as tools to get at the thing they actually want, which is a good story. That's why they think it makes sense to read by skimming past dense text and only focusing on dialogue -- that's a "hack" that will get you access to The Story in a mostly comprehensible form, so why not save yourself time and work? It's why people set up speed-reading challenges, because why not consume ten stories instead of five -- that's more! And it's why people, or this type of person anyway, are excited about AI tools that outsource the labor of turning an idea (the concept of a plan, if you will...) into A Story. A Story is the goal for these people, on either the production or consumption end. Generate story, transmit story to audience, rinse, repeat. Whatever makes that process easier, more efficient, and yeah, more accessible is definitionally an improvement.

I don't think people who are this kind of reader or writer (it just took everything I had not to put "reader" and "writer" in quotation marks -- I'm really trying to be fair-minded here!) actually understand the experience the rest of us are having with reading and writing. Taking in a good story can be -- I'd say usually is -- *part* of that experience, but we're also engaging with text in other ways at the same time. We're mining it for types of meaning that extend beyond the story (all those dreaded Themes and Symbols that your mean English teacher banged on about!) We're reading those long paragraphs for the artistry of them, for the musicality, for aesthetic pleasure. We're investigating not just *what happens in the story,* but who the storyteller is and what they're revealing to us about the way they perceive the world.

When we get frustrated about people "not reading it right," we're probably being obnoxious busybodies (you can, in fact, do whatever you want forever!), but we're not doing it because of the joy we get from looking down on other people. It's more like we're watching people be served a delicious roast chicken, and then cut a couple strips of skinless breast meat off the bird, throw the rest of it in the trash, and talk about how they're such foodies. You didn't even eat it! You barely touched the thing! There's so much waste. And it's even more appalling when the chef throws most of the dish out before it even leaves the kitchen.

So obviously I'm not framing this very neutrally, but like, it *has* all become a little easier to process in my head now that I understand what kind of meat the Booktok types are actually hungry for.

[belonareyna]

Things that are very? popular in the aftg fandom in terms of HC/fanfics, but I don't read (obviously, I'm not against those. I just don't like them, so I don't read them. Let it be a lesson kids, if you don't like something, DON'T READ IT to just comment hateful things :))

Kateaaron kids: Generally, I don't read fanfic with kids, but if I found one and I'm more or less interested, it is not like a "hard limit," but with Kateaaron is like a hard no. Maybe it is because it is one of the few heterosexual couples that are child free in cannon.

Aaron/Matt relapse: nope, not for me, thank you

Aaron being mean to Andrew: not because he couldn't, he very much can. But in cannon is actually way more the other way around. And most of the fanfics I have read with this in them are mostly just to make Aaron look like a bad guy and Andrew as the victim of him.

Allison being a mean girl like all her personality: when I spot this in a fanfic, I stop.

Kevin being portrait as a coward little bitch

Kevin being homophobic. I think this is because he tells Neil to remain heterosexual because it will be easier. Like he's not wrong. Literally all sports are homophobic as fuck. People have lost his work when they had come out of the closet. Is it right? Obviously not. But Kevin is not wrong.

[catboybiologist]

You don't owe me a response, and you can just delete this if it's not the kind of thing you're in the mood for tonight. But, you're someone that I follow closely enough to trust your opinions on this, while distant enough that I don't think I'm outing myself by sending this. Anyways, keep reading if you wanna see my gender crisis, I guess?

Suppose for a moment that I'm a man. A cis man. Definitely not trans. Definitely an ally! Or, at least, trying hard to be one. But, like, never felt any dysphoria from masculinity, manhood, or he/him/his pronouns.

Now suppose, for the sake of curiosity, that someone used a different set of pronouns for me. And let's further suppose that that other set made me... really happy? for some reason?

Am I allowed to be more than one thing? Or was I never really the first thing to begin with? I don't get that euphoria from my original pronouns, but is that just because I'm used to them?

I've tried a few different sets, anonymously, and only two novel pronouns cause the spark of joy, and there are some that do cause a mild discomfort.

What am I?

You've probably heard the phrase "you can do anything you want forever" thrown around a lot, but think about what that really means.

As long as you're not hurting anyone else, your life, how you want to be referred to, your identity, and your body are your own.

Here's my advice to you, both directly addressing your question, and going beyond it:

-experimentation is the first step of discovery.

-you absolutely can be more than one thing, whatever those things may be! Whether that becomes permanent or not doesn't make it any less real. It could be that you never were something, or it could be that you're something new now. All of that is legitimate.

-This entire question is wrapped up in an identity question. If you want that answered, go for it. But based on the rest of it, it seems like you have a very clear idea of what you want, and you're being back from it by this question of what you "are". This is self defeating. Identities are dynamic. They are both found and created. In the process of living how you have to live, to be happy and to bring joy to the people around you, you will create, discover, and destroy countless little facets of your identity. Everyone does.

So if this question is stopping you from doing anything, forget about answering it.

Instead, ask yourself what actions you're going to take, including asking people to treat you a certain way.

You like a certain set of pronouns? Ask people to refer to you that way!!! That is a thing! You can do! No matter what you "really are"!

And someday, after a long time of doing that, you'll find that this question is a lot easier to answer.

[sequinsmile-x]

A Lot of Lonely Places

She used to be good at being alone. 

-x-

Hi friends,

Truly could not tell you where this came from. Opened my laptop, opened google docs and started writing and here we are.

I hope you enjoy it, and as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She used to be good at being alone. 

She used to pride herself on it. Full of false bravado about how she excelled in her own company that was borne out of necessity, a side effect of her mother’s job that had left her with no other choice. She was good at being alone and she enjoyed it. She’d painted a lonely picture as a kid, something that had followed her into her teenage years and early adulthood. It was only in college, when she spent four years in one place - the longest she ever had - that she started to make stronger connections. Threads of convenience and coincidence that tied her and her friends together during that time, holding them close until drunken promises before graduation that they’d always have each other turned out to be lies. They’d drifted apart, seeing each other only at reunions and organised events, and she knew she wasn’t blameless. She hadn’t been great at keeping in contact, not entirely used to having people to stay in contact with. It was something that slipped away entirely when she’d joined Interpol, her work not something that allowed the connections she had once treasured. 

Even though she’d barely spent time alone when she was eventually with Ian, something he ensured by always having people around her, she’d felt lonely. At first, it had been drowned by the ever-present fear she’d be caught. That he’d see through her practised lies and kill her before she could call for backup. As that faded, as time made it clear he’d fallen for her charm and the skills she’d honed at a young age, the loneliness took over. The strange desire to hear someone call her by her actual name one that never quite went away. 

Returning to her actual life was overwhelming. She was suddenly surrounded by people who knew who she really was. Every single one of them telling her she’d done an excellent job before it was all classified, anything she’d done a secret to anyone who didn’t already know. It made the loneliness bone-deep, so much a part of her she wasn’t sure she’d ever be without it, but it also made it easier to pretend it never happened. To file it away into one of the boxes in her head, the lid of it liable to slip away whenever she heard an Irish accent or smelt expensive whisky and cigar smoke. 

When she joined the BAU, her sense of self pieced back together after her time as Lauren Reynolds, and a fake background typed out on a piece of paper, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. A small part of her hoped she would make friends, something that felt childish and misplaced after everything she’d seen and done, and even that had been dashed by some of the team's initial reaction to her. The mistrust she’d since learnt was a defence mechanism, particularly on Aaron’s part, more painful than she cared to admit even to herself. 

She never expected that she’d find a family, that she’d find people who felt like home. People she would, and eventually did, die for. It made the loneliness in Paris even sharper. Nights that would have once been spent drinking with JJ and Penelope, or watching kid's movies with Aaron and Jack, long and painful as she lived under a name they did not know. She treated the loneliness like a penance, something she deserved for the lies that had led her there, the choices she could never regret but wished hadn’t happened. She got used to it again. The loneliness. The silence that came with it.  She got used to it but every now and again it would weigh heavily on her chest, crushing it inwards until it became unbearable. Gasping sobs would steal the air from her lungs until she’d eventually cry herself to sleep, ready to be tortured by dreams of everything she had lost. 

When she came home, unsteady and unsure of her place in the life she’d built herself, she was overwhelmed again. Everyone’s desire to see her, to spend time with her they thought they’d never get again, almost too much to take. She’d sought out time on her own, would issue white lies that tasted bitter as she told her friends she was tired or had other plans just so she could sit on her couch alone, the television and radio off, the silence a comforting blanket as she tried to learn to be herself again. 

As time went on, she found her footing. Found her new place in her new life, the broken pieces of her old one at her feet no longer a tripping hazard, but the very thing she used as a foundation for what she had now. 

Loneliness became a thing of her past, something she knew she could thank Aaron, and by extension Jack, for. The day after their conversation on the jet, when she kept her side of the deal and admitted she was having a bad day, Aaron showed up at her apartment. He was casually dressed, or as casual as she’d ever seen him at the time in jeans and a polo shirt, and he said he was there to help her unpack. To this day, she had no idea how he knew she hadn’t unpacked, how he knew that her meagre belongings that hadn’t been sold on after she died were still in boxes. She’d let him in, too tired to argue with him, and she’d let him help without argument - something she now knew was a sign of just how much she trusted him even when she wasn’t sure she could trust herself. He’d turned her mood around that day, had arrived to her on the edge of a panic attack and left her laughing, her smile shining with adoration as he dryly told her about something Dave had done whilst she was away. 

He���d come back the following weekend, with Jack and breakfast from their favourite diner in tow, matching smiles on their faces as they told her they were there to cheer her up, and it had been a tradition ever since. Something that followed her and Aaron from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and now husband and wife. 

She was never alone now and if she ever was, she was terrible at it. On the rare occasion she was in the house alone she’d struggle. She was used to Aaron’s laugh, or the low timbre of his voice that would travel even through closed doors. She was used to Jack’s excited chatter, or the sound of his video games or cartoons he loved. When it was just her, it was too quiet, something she’d try and counteract by turning on the television or simply calling her husband and asking him when he’d be home. She’d feel nothing short of absurd for it, and she knew a past version of herself would mock her for it, but she loved having him near. Loved the reassurance of his presence, and the only thing that stopped her from chastising herself for it was that she knew Aaron was the same. 

The team made fun of them for it. They’d gently tease them for how they would gravitate towards each other, never able to be too far away as if they felt unsteady if they were. In the same breath as they made fun of them their friends would tell them they were happy for them, that they both deserved what they had now.

___

She sighs contentedly as she wakes up, stretching her limbs as she rolls onto her back, a yawn escaping her as she reaches for her husband's side of the bed. She furrows her brows when she finds it empty, the sheets cold to the touch, and she sits up, her eyes flicking to the also empty bassinet on her side of the bed. A quick glance at the alarm clock, and the lack of daylight streaming in through the curtains, let her know it’s 3.35 am, that she’s likely been pulled from sleep by the cold emptiness of her bed as well as the dull ache starting to build in her breasts. 

Even though she knows that they’re safe, that Aaron will have taken their little girl downstairs to give her some more rare and precious sleep, she’s still met with momentary panic. It greets her like an old friend as it wraps its hand around her throat, stealing the breath from her lungs before she can reason with herself, memories of when she was alone and being hunted by the man who had killed her briefly overwhelming. She shakes her head and blows out a slow breath and she shoves the covers off her as she climbs out of bed. 

“Get it together, Emily,” she mumbles to herself, grabbing Aaron’s robe from the back of the bedroom door as she passes it, wrapping it around herself to warn off the slight chill in the air. 

She checks in on Jack on the way past, takes a moment to rearrange his bedding around him and kisses his forehead before she sneaks back out of his room, not wanting to wake him on a night when he’d somehow slept through his baby sister’s cries. She finds Aaron and the baby exactly where she knew she would, snuggled up on the couch together with only the light of a single lamp in the corner of the room illuminating them. She can’t help but smile as she walks into the living room, her chest aching with love at the sight of her little girl fast asleep on Aaron’s chest, her cheek squashed against his t-shirt and a line of drool visible even in the low light. 

“Can I join this party, or is it invite only?” She asks, careful to stay quiet, to not startle him or wake up their daughter. 

Aaron turns to look at her, his smile soft and sleepy, and he removes one hand from Violet’s back to tap the couch next to him, “You’re always invited,” he replies, just as quietly as he presses a kiss to the dark hair on the newborn’s head, “Right, Vi? Mommy can always join us.” 

Emily crosses the room and sits next to him, immediately snuggling into his side, sneaking under the blanket he had draped over his lap. She rests her head on his shoulder and reaches out to run her knuckles up and down Violet’s soft cheek. “Is she okay? You could have woken me up.” 

“She’s fine,” he says, turning his head to kiss her temple, smiling when she tilts her head to capture it, his lips slightly chapped against hers, “She was fussing, but I think she just wanted to cuddle,” he smiles as he pulls back, “Now I may lack the facilities to feed her, but I’ve got it on good authority I give amazing hugs,” his smile gets wider as she lovingly rolls her eyes, “So I thought I’d let you rest until she did need feeding.” 

Emily hums gratefully, kissing the corner of his mouth before she rests her temple against his cheek, unable to tear her gaze away from the sleeping baby, “Daddy really does give the best hugs, sweet girl,” she says, her words disappearing into a laugh as more drool lands on Aaron’s t-shirt, “Although, I used to be the only girl allowed to drool on him,” she strokes her daughter’s head, following the swirl of dark hair. It was the very first part of her that Emily had touched, encouraged to reach between her legs by her doctor and feel the top of her little girl’s head when labour was starting to feel like it was too much, “I guess I can share him with you though.” 

Aaron chuckles and wraps his arm around her, tugging her closer as he securely holds Violet close with one arm, “Did we wake you?”

Emily shakes her head, “No, I think it was because the bed was empty,” she mumbles, reaching for his hand and unhooking herself from under his arm so she can hug it to her chest, his hand sandwiched between both of hers as she tucks them under her chin, “I’m not good at sleeping alone anymore. You ruined me.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “I’m…sorry,” he says, his tone teasing and she squeezes his hand tighter. 

“As you should be,” she replies dryly, feeling sleepiness take over, the warmth of him and the sound of Violet’s breathing slowly pulling her under, “There’s only one way to make up for it.”

He kisses the top of her head and then hides his smile in her hairline, “Oh yeah, what’s that then?” 

“Sleeping next to me forever.” 

He chuckles “You drive a hard bargain, but I’m sure I can manage that,” he says, and she leans into him, his voice something that calmed her, something that pulled her in, “You should get some sleep, sweetheart.” 

She grumbles, trying to fight him on it even though it was a losing battle, “But you’ll be trapped here with both of us sleeping on you.” 

“There are much worse places to be trapped, Em,” he assures her, his words murmured against her forehead, “And Vi will wake us up soon anyway,” he kisses her forehead, “Get some sleep, and I’ll be here for you both.” 

She hums, no longer able to fight it, exhaustion and the comfort of him washing over her, “Love you.” 

The last thing she hears before she falls asleep is his reply, his I love you too whispered against her skin, and she knows that not only would she never be good at being alone again, but that she’d never have to be. 

[schizotypal-culture-is]

@deeptrospection replied to the post on Schizotypy

I’ve seen this misconception pop up online, and I’d like to address it.

According to the DSM-V, there are 10 personality disorders. These 10 personality disorders are broken down into 3 clusters: Cluster A, Cluster B, and Cluster C.

The personality disorder clusters are not separate from personality disorders, nor do they exist on their own. There are no “Cluster A Disorders”. There’s “Cluster A personality disorders”, because Cluster A is a… I don’t want to say it’s a sub classification of personality disorders, but it’s more for organization.

The Clusters organize the personality disorders based on shared traits, however it’s important to note that these shared traits are completely arbitrary. Personality disorders have such high comorbidities between each other, that the ICD-11 got rid of individual personality disorder diagnoses altogether, and instead created a single personality disorder diagnosis which is then classified as… mild, moderate or severe? I think it is? They’re basically functioning labels that denote how “severe” the impact or dysfunction of the personality disorder is. The point is, there’s a million different ways the personality disorders can be grouped.

With that being said, the Cluster A personality disorders are grouped together as the “odd, eccentric, and peculiar personality disorders” that are marked by distrust, detachment, and social withdrawal.

The Cluster A personality disorders are: paranoid personality disorder (PPD), schizotypal personality disorder (StPD) and schizoid personality disorder (SzPD).

I’ve edited the original chart I posted to the post about schizotypy to both highlight the Cluster A personality disorders, as well as marked out the conceptualized personality disorders that aren’t recognized by the APA, and therefore aren’t diagnosable by the DSM-V. I did this in the hopes of making the chart easier to read for those who don’t have much understanding of PDs, and wouldn’t recognize that some of these PDs/structures are merely conceptual.

For PPD, the normal, non-disordered end of the personality continuum is “vigilant” with “paranoia” being disordered vigilance. It’s good for people to be aware of their surroundings and the people they interact with. It’s bad when this awareness becomes all-consuming, and someone automagically assumes the worst of every situation and person, which causes severe avoidance and attempts to gain safety.

For SzPD, the normal, non-disordered end of the personality continuum is “solitary” with “schizoid” being the disordered need be alone. It’s good for people to need alone time, to do the things they want to do, recharge, etc. It’s bad when this need to be solitary becomes all-consuming, and someone becomes completely indifferent to human interaction altogether, and even develops an aversion to it (due to the schizoid fear of engulfment). Human beings are a communal and social species, to be devoid of it is dangerous. (Many consider solitary confinement to be inhumane because it triggers psychotic episodes due to the isolation. Human beings literally go crazy in the absence of contact. When you consider that SzPD is schizotaxic and more prone to brief psychosis than the rest of the population, the schizoid desire to be alone is detrimental to the schizoid).

For StPD, the normal, non-disordered end of the personality continuum is “idiosyncratic”, which means “of peculiar temper or disposition; belonging to one's peculiar and individual character” with “schizotypal” being the disordered form of idiosyncraticy. It’s good for people to have individualism and characteristics that are unique to them. This is provided by a healthy ipseity or “minimal self”. You know who you are and are defined by the things that make you unique as an individual. In StPD, this uniqueness is taken too far, and then we become ostracized for being too unique and individualized ie odd, eccentric, bizarre, weird. We no longer stand out as an individual, but “stand out from the crowd”, so-to-speak.

And finally, only the schizotypal personality structure continuum/spectrum has a name, and that’s “schizotypy”. None of the other PDs have a name for their continuums/structure, which makes researching them difficult, because you’ll just get results for PDs 🥲.

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe the problem with Christian fiction is that it's non-denominational. People are just "Christian", with no effort put into showing what practicing that religion looks like for them specifically. No indication that there are other Christians who could have different beliefs. No wrestling with differing ideas and the struggle of how one should live out their Christian faith. And that makes it unrealistic and unrelatable.

[emomomortal]

apple on your head!! apple on your head!!

[autisticgayplushie]

all nine of the stretch goal designs for this campaign - I am not sure how many goals we will be able to reach but there will come a point where I won't be able to do any more goals unless I get fulfillment help, so we'll see if it gets to that point and if I can get help! below the cut are the names, info, and artist statements for each plushie! I may end up changing the names as I am still not sure about ash, sandy, kelly, and luca, but let me know if you like them!

Tristan The Depression Raccoon: Tristan’s plushie will come with a removable hoodie accessory! He loves cozy video games like animal crossing and stardew valley. There are not many widely used symbols for depression that I could find, so I chose Tristan's colors based on how my depression makes me feel, bruised and cold.

Ash the Anxiety Bunny Moth: Ash’s plushie will have fluffy moth antennae and removable magnetic wings similar to Bug’s plush! They love to visit the home depot lights section when their friends are with them! I chose gray and yellow for the main body colors because my anxiety personally deals with uncertainty and things out of my control. The green comes from one of the anxiety flags created by Beyond MOGAI. To add moth features was a suggestion I got that I thought fit very well!! 

Sandy the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Kitty: Sandy is an artist and loves to draw and paint landscapes! Her wings will be attached via magnet, similar to Bug’s wings. The colors of her design are based on the OCD flag created by lucellion, with spirals in her paws to represent repetitive thought processes.

Melon the Sensory Processing Disorder Opossum: Melon is a silly opossum who has bat wings! Melon’s wings will be attached via magnet, similar to Bug’s wings. Melon’s colors are inspired by the SPD pride flag created by Beyond MOGAI.

Jazz the Borderline Personality Disorder Kitty: Jazz is a tortoiseshell kitty that loves to read!! Jazz’s plush will come with a pvc charm of the hand of Eris symbol for you to put on xer collar if you choose! The colors are loosely based on the BPD flag created with community input by ptsdsafe on tumblr.

Kelly the Schizospec Axolotl: kelly is an axolotl who is studying chemistry and loves science! kelly’s design is inspired by the Schizospec flag, created with community input and organized by schizosupport on tumblr. They will have a collar tag once again made of PVC featuring the associated double sided arrow symbol.

Em the Bipolar Disorder Chimera: Em is a chimera kitty who has dragon wings and a snake tail! One side of the snake tail is smiling, the other frowning. This takes inspiration from the :): symbol often associated with Bipolar disorder.

Cy the Irritable Bowel Syndrome Otter: Cy is a happy little otter griffin! They love to sculpt and craft and sew! Cy’s color pallet is based on the assortment of medications I take for my own IBS symptoms.

Luca the Dyslexia Fox: Luca is a dancer and loves to perform! Their design and colors are loosely based on the infinity heart+ moon and star symbol that is often found on dyslexia flags. they will have L and R embroidered on their paws, which was a suggestion I was given.

[emmerrr]

far and away my favourite thing about tsc was the direct parallels we got between neil and jean now that we've been allowed inside jean's head as well.

we have neil who's almost frighteningly self-sufficient; getting to grips with his surroundings when he moves to psu as soon as possible by going for long solo runs, not waiting for his teammates after he's done at the stadium, going shopping on his own for stuff on foot and only buying what he can carry back by himself, hitchhiking back from columbia -- the fact that he could have asked coach or any of his upperclassmen to come and get him not even occuring to him. but through forced proximity, he gets to know them more, and he gets to like them, and they become the people that he would do anything for, that he fought so hard to stay with.

on the other hand we have jean, whose time in the nest has had the adverse effect; he's never alone, he's hardly ever off-campus, and he's never had the kind of freedoms that you'd usually be afforded at college. the idea of living off-campus is horrifying to him, the idea of having his own room is unheard of to him -- and unsettling enough for him to want jeremy to move in there with him. jeremy shows him the way to the court but he's too disoriented to follow along properly because he's not used to being out in a city like this. for years he hasn't been allowed a life outside of exy and the nest, so he doesn't know how to be out in the world. he has no idea how to navigate it. he sees exy as his only purpose, so anything that doesn't seem to serve this goal is meaningless and egregious to him.

...but then there's jeremy, and cat, and laila.

idk, just, something something neil didn't realise how lonely he was until he met the foxes, and jean was painfully aware of how lonely he was despite being stuck with the ravens all of the time, and is now getting the chance to learn that it doesn't have to be like that with the trojans.

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[hailsatanacab]

Your Favourite Author's Favourite Fic

in no way is this me sneakily trying to get fic recs out of people, but here's my new tag game!

Rules! When tagged, reblog with the fic you've written that you love the most

Not the fic with the most kudos, or the most comments, or the most hits, but the fic that you're the most proud of. I'm talking about the story that kept you up at night, the one that you still think about, the one that you wish more people would read

So, it's time to show off! I strongly encourage - in fact, I demand - that you give yourself some compliments, a well-deserved pat on the back, and tell us all the reasons why it's your favourite!

Then tag five people and make them go through it, too 🥰🩷

I'll tag @wolfjackle, @tourettesdog, @gilbirda, @die-erlkonigin6083, and @thewritingowl to get us started, please and thank you!!

[purpleshadow-star]

Pic context: Talking about the exy stadium at USC considering the fact that USC is a real school

I love how Nora just invents things in order to avoid complications with real-life things.

Like, using USC's football stadium as the exy stadium too would take a lot of work to figure out how that would be possible. Solution: invent a new stadium!

Having the characters play a real sport that already exists would mean looking into all the rules and regulations and history, etc, and there could be multiple elements of the sport that work against the plot of the story or complicate it in some way. Solution: invent a new sport!

I mean, it gives her full creative control over what happens in the story, and we as readers get to learn about a cool new thing without feeling the need to fact-check every element. Tbh, it makes so much sense to me.

Like, go off! Make stuff up! It's your world. We're just reading and enjoying and becoming obsessed with it!!!

[temeyes]

pfp change!! ft an actual doodle of myself gaspppp!!