#(i must use the sleep now)

[discordiansamba]

Contrary to what some might think, Azula is well aware that her freedom is solely dependent on Zuko's mercy. There's Uncle too, of course- but the Avatar's words are harder to argue with over those of the new Fire Lord.

She's just as equally aware that it's an unpopular decision.

She's not a fool- she's heard the whispers of discontent. Even after all their treachery, there are still plenty who do not fully trust her uncle and brother. But even they find it difficult to argue against the enthusiastic support of the Earth King and the Chiefs of the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. They watch the pair with hungry eyes, waiting for them to make a single mistake.

It's why she's decided to behave herself.

Don't get her wrong- she certainly could escape if she wished it. She could return to the Fire Nation and challenge her Uncle for the throne, just as he challenged her for it. But she won't. It isn't for any altruistic reason, not really- she's simply just bitter. Bitter that her father didn't care if the assassin she sent after her uncle killed her too.

It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that while her father had tried to have her killed, her uncle had protected her. She'd tried to shoot the old man full of lightning, and he had shielded her. She still didn't understand it.

So she's decided to behave. For the most part. She doesn't mind making a nuisance of herself if it convinces Zuzu to let them stay in a proper inn instead of camping out under the open sky- he didn't even bring a tent. Horrible. She's starting to think he got some kind of brain worm while he was living with those swampbenders.

It is most definitely not refreshing to simply travel without having the expectations of her father hanging over her head. She is most definitely not having fun. She is absolutely not enjoying spending time with her brother for the first time in over three years.

She just sees the writing on the wall, that's all. Uncle needs an heir. It can't be Zuko. If she bides her time and acts like a good girl, she'll eventually get the throne that was stolen from her.

(Uncle is not one to renege on his promises. Not like father.)

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[thedrotter]

this idea to me in a vision ... ive become a shrimp as a consequence from sitting at my chair but anythign for a yuu drawing🔥🔥

[im-not-a-l0ser]

Hey, so do yall remember that fic idea I talked about a lil bit ago, about Max being in love with Richie pre-transition, and then falling in love with him post transition without him even knowing? Yeah, so I wrote a prologue

Sorry if you don't wanna be tagged, I'm just tagging those who seemed most interested: @boykisserbunny @petes-5yr-cocoa @chaosbrinker @inprisonforsparkling

I didn't decide on a deadname for him, so I hope the way I wrote it is okay.

TW- Bullying, icky behaviour, ghosting(?)

It all started with her.

She's the reason Max ever got violent in the first place.

"Stupid fuckin nerd!" Max once heard. He didn't think much of it. People got bullied every day.

"That's kind of a-an oxymoron, don't you think?" He heard a meek voice say.

Fuck. If some motherfucker was messing with her, Max was gonna break some bones.

"Who're you callin a moron!"

"No, that's not— Eep!" A familiar squeak echoed through the halls before the sound of a fist splatting against the concrete wall rang out.

Max turned the corner.

She was pressed against the wall, although it mostly seemed to be hwr doing at this point, she'd definately been bracketed there before. Despite hearing only one voice, there were three guys. One of them was clutching his hand.

"That's it, you fuckin smartass—"

"Hey!" Max yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"We're just teaching this nerd a lesson," One of the guys said. "She shouldn't be such a nerdy prude," He said, running his hand down her arm for a second before she shoved it off.

"Fuck off," She grumbled. She was behaving like this wasn't unfamiliar for her.

"Yeah," Max said. "Fuck off." The third guy laughed.

"Or what?" He asked. "Dunno if you noticed, but it's one on three."

She threw her hands up slightly, annoyed.

Technically, she's the one who initiated it.

She swung her backpack as hard as she could into his groin, immediately sending him groaning on the ground.

She smiled for a second before the second guy went for her. She squeaked again before crouching down.

Nothing to worry about though. He was quickly knocked away by Max, as well as the first guy, just in case he wanted to try something again.

"Nice one by the way," Max said as she stood back up. She dusted herself off and swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Thanks for the help," She said.

She always did that. She never thanked him for saving her, never acted helpless. She wasn't helpless. She just wasn't enough on her own. Max completed that.

After that, Max left her side even less. Apparently it wasn't the first time it'd happened. In fact, it seemed like that'd been a reoccurring thing for weeks now. Not anymore, if Max had anything to do with it. Which he would.

Despite not dating, not wanting people to think they're dating, and constantly fighting the accusations that they're dating, Max would swing his arm around her shoulders now to make sure that other guys knew she was spoken for.

Not that she was. He just hoped it was enough to protect her if he wasn't around.

He gave her official and explicit permission to claim they were dating if she so needed to, like if she was being pursued by someone she didn't like and they wouldn't take no for an answer.

Unfortunately, for some people that just got their motor running more.

In those situations, Max advised that she fought them off as well as she could, and called him as soon as she thought they'd be too much for her alone. He'd drop anything to be there for her.

Max didn't see her the entire last week of eighth grade. He was getting worried. He'd ask around, but people would tease him, saying he should know, since they were dating, and that she finally decided to off herself.

That second one hit too close to home.

He went to her house a week into summer, after many text messages and a warning that he was going to do so.

A man answered the door. He kind of looked like her, in a vague way, but Max knew this wasn't her dad.

"I'm here to see..."

"Uh," The guy started, looking confused. "I don't know anyone with that name. Sorry."

"You... what?" Max asked, his brain breaking. He was already so close to the edge.

Two weeks with no contact at all. It was starting to scare him more than he was okay with.

"I've never heard that name before. Sorry," He said. "That's my last name, Matthews. But that's all I got."

"No, sh-she lives here. She's always lived here!" Max tried to lunge forward into the house, but the man blocked him.

"I think you should leave now, young man," He said.

Max yelled her name until his voice hurt, and the man managed to push him away long enough to shut and lock the door.

He banged on it for a while before giving up.

He sat on the porch for a while before working up the energy and motivation to leave.

What happened to her... it was like she disappeared off the face of the earth and no one even cared or noticed.

That had to have been her uncle or big brother or something, they had the same last name! How was this fair, where had she gone!

She was Max’s only real friend. His only true friend. Sure, the football team and the basketball team, but she knew more about his life and feelings than they ever would.

Not to mention, he only hung out with them out of necessity, especially the ones that had tried to hurt her.

Without her, what was even the point of trying to be decent.

In all honesty, Max liked the fear he generated. He liked that he could look at someone the right way and make them flinch. He liked knowing he could protect her.

He needed to show her that. He did his best, while still showing he could take care of her.

Okay, sure. Maybe the accusations and the lies were right, Max was in love with her.

A lot of good that did him now.

[stevethehairington]

okay but i need ALL of the fics that take place during crozier getting sober. like i feel like there is SO much potential here bc it is THEE biggest turning point for him! esp with regards to fitzjames and their relationship. like fitzjames seeing crozier's choice to sober up as this huge defining moment, one that ultimately and unequivocally earns his respect (back, really, because he DID have respect for crozier at first, before he met him. and now he sees that that respect wasnt misgiven, not really). and like the way this choice is what causes the first crack in james' mask around crozier! ugh it's just DELICIOUS.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Aventurine.

[foxgloveinspace]

(Source)

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

should i sleep for a hundred million years or purposefully stop sleeping just to see what happens

[plexippusangel]

About to hand weave this man a potion carrying pouch in his character colors. I was already thinking about it. And then was like no. It's too early. I'll just give him a bit of the yarn my pouch is woven out of that I hypothetically would use as one of the components as a favor to wear for the tournament. I will be normal. So normal.

AND THEN HE GAVE ME A HANDMADE POTION CARRYING POUCH IN HIS BLUE THIS MAN MATCHED MY FREAK AND I TEMPORARILY SCALED BACK

gonna stay at 100% freak going forward

[rexscanonwife]

I'm a little sleep deprived and it's late but never underestimate to make any media angsty 0_0

But there's so much mystery behind Sportacus, his upbringing, and the 9 previous heroes before him. We don't really know anything about it but it seems to be (at least among fans) passed down GENERATIONALLY through a family tree, and you gotta imagine it's something that's trained into them from a young age.

Idk I was just watching the show and thinking about how sweet and playful Sportacus is 🥺🥺💖💖 he's always going along with the kids' games and such, it kinda makes me wonder if he likes to join them because he didn't really have anyone to play with while he was growing up.

[clawsextended]

on a note to all: my plotting style is something i like to call i have adhd and if i see you on the dash and have an idea chances are i’ll im you about it. i’m an anxious little dude who isn’t always active in a broad scope, and it’s always been my nature to reach out to people. that doesn’t make me even remotely anxious. not even remotely expected to answer me — i totally get it, sometimes you don’t feel the vibe — but a general psa about how i work. i come from the dinosaur era where the only way to communicate with one another on any level was to directly talk to them and frankly i don’t even know how else you’re ever supposed to plot with a person otherwise. like… how do you write if you never talk????

[novelconcepts]

The degree of RAGE I feel every time I listen to an interview with and/or about a nonbinary person/character, and the interviewer just is allergic to they/them pronouns. Like. My dude. My good bitch. My brother in Christ. The whole POINT of this conversation is the enby thing. How are you failing THIS badly?!

[coquelicoq]

Natsume: You didn't sleep a wink last night. Why not go and grab a few now? Natori [sparkling]: I'm just fine. It takes more than sleep deprivation to dull my dazzling self, so don't you worry your fussy little head. Natsume [concerned]: Nonsense like that is exactly what someone suffering from sleep deprivation would say! Sensei: Oh really? Has he been sleep-deprived every day of his life?

so i've been watching the natsume dub -

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

the real question is when and how do they all find out it's been a day for the doctor

[theskoomacat]

M*uthwashing was good, the only things i didn't enjoy lie in the area of writing (but so do some things i enjoyed the most!) - but I expected more from it? kinda?