#It gets better

[mightysuns]

i worry sometimes that my memory of him is wrong, like i’ve put it out of order. i wonder if he loved me like his kid in the way that i loved him like a father. i can remember the bar rag he always had in his pocket. but is that enough to keep his memory alive?

grief is so crazy like what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. does she know i loved her. i miss her so much. i catch myself doing things she used to do. i wish i could call her. i miss her so much. i do a crossword puzzle. i cry while washing the dishes. does she know i loved her? my heart feels like a hummingbird. i miss her so much. what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. what if i forget.

[itgetsbetter]

Despite being a progressive city with some queer protections, LGBTQ+ youth in Seattle still felt like they didn't have a space to claim as their own.

So they made one.

With help from one of our It Gets Better: Changemakers grants, Seattle Public Schools hosted their first-ever Community and Culture Conference—a transformative event attended by nearly 200 queer and trans youth across the district!

The day was packed with over 20 workshops led by LGBTQ+ artists, educators, healthcare workers, and culture-makers, plus a queer-centered resource fair, gender-affirming clothing swap, and drag and ballroom performances.

One of the students said, "It was amazing to be near so many people like me. I could be vulnerable and talk with people who had the same life experiences as me. I was so happy!" <3

We want to make more of this happen! You can apply now through May 5th for a grant of up to $10,000 at itgetsbetter.org/changemakers!

[averysillygoose]

it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again.

[fairy-switchblade]

I remember the first time I cut a butch’s hair for them. The nervously asking them if they were sure and explaining I wasn’t a hairdresser, just a femme, and wouldn’t they rather find an inclusive barber. The cutting a tiny little bit and checking the length was okay. The fumbles of trying to figure out how use the trimmers and the scissors, and the butch being so so so patient with me.

I remember watching YouTube tutorials and researching what products were good, and researching different styles popular across the butch and transgender community, and learning the vocabulary, and practicing.

I remember what it felt like to cut my butch friend’s hair yesterday. They sat on a stool in their kitchen and had a cup of tea, and we listened to gospel radio. My nails were extra crisp and pointy because I’ve just had them done, so the sectioning was easy as pie. We did a restyle, and they loved it. We had a laugh trying to wash their hair out in the sink whilst their cat tried to ‘save them’ from being ‘drowned’ by me.

In a little million ways, every day, we tell people that we love them.

In a little million ways, every day, it really does get better.

[thepeacefulgarden]

[positivelypositivethoughts]

[betterluckthenexttime]

[justchillinoutinmeb0x]

Election

I would like to make one thing very clear. I voted for Kamala, I support Kamala and I do not support the man who is about to be the first convicted felon to take office.

My page will always be a safe space for queer people, trans people, People of color, women, children of immigrants, immigrants, democrats, liberals, pro-choice, people of all religions. if you voted for Trump unfollow me, if you support Trump unfollow me, and if you don't support any of the groups listed above you need to remove yourself from my page.

this wasn't a normal election, I respect everyone's right to their opinion but this was different. this was an attack on minority rights, on women's rights, on the department of education. this wasn't an election it was a slaughter.

as a US citizen, I am terrified, if you need someone to talk to please reach out I am here.

Please remember; you are loved, you are worthy, you deserve the same rights as everybody else. please don't stop fighting, please stay.

[miaveryobsessive]

“nobody is coming to save you”

wrong. i’m coming to save me

[cluelessatthispoint]

A Dragon's Hoard pt.1

(Mythical AU of the 141)

(This fic is inspired by bluegiragi and docdudo.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You've never been one for the warmth that most people eminate. The kindness that sparkles in someone's eyes when they see someone they know and love. The way a person's tone changes to show their interest in a conversation, or how families get close and share hugs amongst one another. It's sweet, you think. Sweet but pointless. Smiles can be faked, tones can be raised and lowered on a whim. Scrunchingbupbyour nose in disdain as you spy another group of travelers walking along the beaten path. The sounds of their laughter and idle chatter already fading as the sounds of gravel underfoot growing fainter.

A pang of envy settles between your ribcage. The feeling of it twisting and festering almost burns. Never once had you ever experienced that. Never a tender smile or a kind word was ever directed at you. Thinking back as far as you can, there was always one constant: being alone. Ever since the great fire raged six summers ago, you've been displaced. Wandering and begging for scraps of food or even taking refuge within the churches when the bitter cold sweeps across the land. It is a harsh life for a child your age. Eleven years old and orphaned. Truly, if the orphanages weren't so full and if the staff cared, you figured you'd be stuck there. But seeing as they were full to bursting and low on income, you were throw. To the curb and barely spared a glance by any passersby.

Which brings you to the present. Living in the woods as best you can, your lean-to near the city's walls, but far enough to be undisturbed by mercenaries and gangs. The farther out away from the city the more people fear to tread. The tales of the great dragon who prowls the far edge of the woods have been told by young and old alike. Each story growing more fierce and bloody with each retelling. But so long as you're living without being pestered by people it's fine by you. Scowling as the bright sun shines brightly overhead, you practically have to squint to make out the shapes of birds flying overhead or in the trees. Sling shot in hand and a pain in your empty stomach spurs you on to find a meal. There are plenty of edible roots this time of year, with a few already back safely tucked into the confines of a nook in your lean-to. The only piece left to a decent meal would be some protein. With the birds twittering and chirping overhead. The sounds of mother birds feeding their squalling chicks is grating to your ears. Already irritated beyond compare from hunger pangs and envy. You screech out an angered shout as you set off your loaded slingshot amongst the trees. A sick hope of the rock somehow hitting a bird makes you smile bitterly. But the only thing you can hear is a gruff chortle followed by a accented baritone voice.

"Well now, what have we got here so far in my end of the woods?"

Your eyes widen as you can see a figure come stumbling out of the foliage. His tone possessive as he mentions the woods being his. A large hand on his head rubbing the sore spot of where the rock made impact. An apology rises to your warbling vocal chords only to be cut off as you see the large, curling horns protruding from his head. Smoke billowing from his mouth in a steady stream as he lets out an amused chuckle at your speechless state. Stretching his arms overhead in a mocking show of strength. You can see one large green wing furled in close to his back.

"Well?"

His deep voice sends a wave of fear through your bones. He could easily snap your neck with a flap of his wing, or crush you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Gazing wide eyed in fear...you can only think of how the stories that were told were true. Looking up at the hulking figure, you can see why the stories were never the same. This dragon...this man...this creature is somehow both. A hybrid of sorts.

Not bothering to stay around and chat. You bolt as if the devil himself were after you. Your tiny legs running as fast as you can. With the way your autonomic nervous system is kicking in. Your legs feel both like jelly and pins and needles from all the adrenaline. Panting heavily as you run the feeling of copper rises to your tongue as your lungs strain for air. Running was never your strongest attribute. The hybrid could tell that as well as even over the beating of your heart in your ears you can hear him running not to far behind you. His strides much longer than yours, a grin on his face as you can hear a giddy sort of chuckle rumblebfrom his chest.

"What's a hatchling like you doing all the way out here sweet thing?"

A pair of strong arms wrap securely around you as you flail and kick wildly. The scent of smoke and sweat fills your nose as you scratch at the arms holding you in place. The rumbling timbre of his voice sends vibrations through your body as he holds you securely against his chest.

"Been watching you for a while hatchling, all alone in these woods. Should have been eaten a long time ago."

As if those words weren't frightening enough, deep down in the pit of your belly you know them to be blaringly true. The amount of times you've stayed up in the night fending off wild animals were more than enough to prove his point. Tensing in the Hybrids strong arms, he adjusts his hold as if holding a squirming newborn fawn. His hot breath ghosting over the top of your head and neck. As if sensing your blinding fear, the hybrid chuckles, a rumbling purr rising from the chest behind you.

"Hush now...Papa's here, lil treasure. Papa's here."

Stilling immediately out of fear at the hybrid’s words. Whether condescending or not, you can't help but relax slightly. The fight leaving your tired body as soon as the adrenaline runs out. Your heart pitter pattering in your chest almost painfully. Sucking in greedy lung fulls of air, you can't help but relax begrudgingly against the warmth that the massive body behind you eminates. You're stuck here now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all know who the dragon is :) it's everyone's favorite tired dad Price!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[itgetsbetter]

merry gay christmas yall

[positivelypositivethoughts]

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[27paperlilies]

I promise you it gets better.

A version of you somewhere in time and motion is smiling, eyes bright and heart full. Please wait to meet them, they have something to tell you.

When days are gray and mind in decay, close your eyes and picture another day. They exist I can assure you, new days with better beginnings and happy endings. All ahead of darkend times, the sunlight peeks golden in due time. Its going to be fine.

[tori0704]

Just look at them 😍🥹🫠🍂🍂🍂🍂

They are sooooo in love and I'm in love with their love 💛💙