#NO TELLING WHERE THEY MIGHT GO

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[knifearo]

this year my challenge for everyone is to unlearn the association between love and morality. love is not something that is inherently morally good, and the absence of love is not something that is inherently bad. sex without love isn't morally bankrupt, it's just an action. people without love aren't less kind or less good, they're just people. when we can get past this false (and often unnoticed) dichotomy of good love/evil lovelessness then i think we are going to be able to take leaps and bounds in sex positivity, aro advocacy, certain discussions of mental health...

[dootznbootz]

People really act as though Penelope wasn't happy that the suitors were dead. As though she wasn't constantly praying that they died.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

[spitblaze]

If you’re gonna care about prison abolition and justice you are necessarily going to have to care about the people who DID do those crimes and just want to reintegrate and live a normal life without hurting anyone. You're gonna have to be cool with the fact that the guy scanning your groceries might’ve raped someone. You're gonna have to relax about the possibility that your bank teller used to be a career criminal. The person sitting next to you on the bus might’ve committed three different murders, and as long as he's not about to commit a fourth right now, that's not your fuckin' problem. People don't disappear from society after they commit crimes, and most of them really just want to live a normal, stable life instead of going back to that. And the best way to make sure they don't relapse is to ensure they're able to live that peaceful life instead of freaking out because the guy next door used to run a dogfighting ring. You don’t have to be friends with them, you don't even have to like them, but you're gonna need to be okay with them existing in society. Sorry.

[szfiction]

This parallel makes me insane actually (and there is something incredibly Lawlu about it to me)

[suffersinfandom]

I went down a bit of a rabbit hole earlier today and stumbled across some of the most misguided, mean-spirited, and downright cruel OFMD takes I've ever read. Instead of sharing them and making everyone else miserable, I just want to say:

OFMD and time spent in the fandom have genuinely made my life better.

The characters of Stede and Ed (who are not -- and I can't emphasize this enough -- their real-world counterparts) have helped me come to terms with and accept parts of myself that I previously hated.

OFMD is earnest and sweet and silly. It's full of love and fun, and it's almost impossible to watch it and not feel a little better.

The show's diversity is incredible and unlike anything I've been able to find elsewhere. Even shows that have similar amounts of onscreen diversity fall short behind the scenes and in the writers room.

OFMD's cast and crew are absolutely lovely. Being treated kindly (and even actively embraced!) by the folks who made the show has been a pleasant surprise.

OFMD's fandom has been so, so much kinder than any others I've been in. I'm constantly seeing people uplift and encourage each other, and the fandom has collectively raised at least $50K for charities. How cool is that?

This fandom's art (all forms of art) is incredible. I've never been so spoiled for choice when it comes to well-written fic to read or beautiful artwork to look at.

Ed and Stede are characters of all time. Top tier. Flawed, sympathetic, gentle, bitchy, sweet, unhinged, profoundly in need of therapy and medication. (I'm not saying bupropion would fix Ed or sertraline would help Stede, but I don't think they'd hurt.)

OFMD's supporting cast is unparalleled. Frenchie, Roach, and Fang are my best friends even though I know next to nothing about them. I forget that Mary "the Widow" Bonnet and Spanish Jackie have, like, ten total minutes of screen time each because they're both fully developed people in my head. Zheng Yi Sao and her extended polycule are everything to me and I need their spinoff on my television immediately.

The fandom's not perfect and sometimes I want to pull out my hair when I read meta I disagree with, but the truly bad actors are a minuscule minority. Most fans are kind, supportive, and extremely funny and talented.

I love it here. I don't plan on leaving. Even if OFMD takes a backseat to a new obsession in the future, it will always be a part of me. I'll always come back (I'll never leave).

[lunarharp]

the ghost

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 

[bleachbleachbleach]

Kenpachi's Place

On the subject of "what people call each other" more generally, my favorite Bleach topic, Aizen is also kind of weird about Zaraki. He refers to Renji leaving the 5th for the 11th as Renji being "taken away to Kenpachi's place." Was he. Was he kidnapped. Is Kenpachi's Place a trafficking front.

Referring to Zaraki by title is a Choice, for sure. I don't know if anyone else does that (besides Ichigo), but I can think of many who do not, would never.

Referring to the 11th as "Kenpachi's Place" also feels like a Choice. It makes me think about Renji's question to Ichigo when they first meet:

[Bleach 054]

His meaning of is speech bubble is, "Which [number] Division are you affiliated with?" but the pronunciation is just "Where are you affiliated?" So there's already a sense, I guess, that the geographic question of "where" implies your divisional affiliation, and that divisions are thought of as places. Makes sense, given that all the divisions are meaningful geographic spreads in the Seireitei.

Is it still weird that it's "Kenpachi's Place" and not just idk, "the 11th Division"? I mean, I think it is, but it does speak to the unique tradition of leadership succession the 11th's got going on, and how intense the cult of personality is in the 11th, as a division whose nature is extremely tied to the nature of whoever its leader happens to be.

Aizen also never actually refers to the 11th as the 11th, so in order to make that connection we'd have to remember Zaraki's name and number from when he showed up at Byakuya's Place. Why wouldn’t he? Idk but I enjoy it as character info. (NB: Byakuya is perfectly happy to refer to Tousen purely by number, as "9th Captain" and not by any name at all, so there's a lot of different conventions out and about across the various captains.)

[arctic-bookclub]

oh also one thing that i realized just now: qbagi’s initial suspicion over what’s happening to qphil being tied to the federation is technically not wrong

you know what drew qphil’s deities’ interest to him and quesadilla island? the birdcage. rose said in her earliest message ”I could sense the bleeding heart of the one I once knew, far, far away”. the deities noticed qphil had disappeared, and maybe they were curious to know what had happened, but the thing that drove them to find him was rose’s want to help him. and if she really was the one that freed him from the cage (and it’s heavily hinted she was), that birdcage undeniably was the thing that launched all of this into action.

how the enderking figured out that qphil had been weakened? we don’t know, maybe he sensed it, maybe he had already been observing him, maybe he noticed rose leaving to look for qphil, it doesn’t really matter. what does matter is that the trauma qphil got from being locked in that cage is what gave the enderking the perfect opportunity to strike. and is what led us to where we are now in the story. so even thought the federation isn’t ultimately the one tormenting qphil right now, it can still all be traced back to them and their continual abuses of power :)

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[radioroxx]

funny thing about aus in which another one of the party joins the loops with siffrin is that, while the others are 10x more likely to mention the loops, i cant imagine any of them would go to siffrin first.

[softboiled-egg]

So uh guess who’s playing honkai star rail

[i-am-church-the-cat]

I didn’t want to hijack the person’s post bc I don’t care what they think but I am a defensive bitch so we’re talking about this

Logan and Oscar met when they were 13/14. The next year they were on the same karting team together but didn’t race each other directly. This would be the last time they don’t race each other until 2019 when Logan moved up to F3 and Oscar was still in Formula Renault. They had a championship battle in F4 and F3, they were teammates in 2020, they haven’t raced each other since then which has been the biggest gap since they’ve known each other.

That still doesn’t mean they’re friends though. You know what does? Them literally saying they are.

Oscar saying “I’m quite close with Logan Sargeant” on that podcast. The Miami GP 2023 post. Them playing paddle together. Logan in that interview where they asked about “Loscar.” Now the podcast episode.

They aren’t forced to be around each other, if anything they’re so busy they don’t have time to hang out, yet they still seek each other out when they have the opportunity. Obviously we don’t know anything about their personal lives but at the very least we know they’re friends?? Not brocedes level of friends, maybe lestappen level of friends cause I don’t think they’re actual friends either, definitely not galex level of friends but that can also be attributed to the fact they don’t talk about themselves a lot, compared to Alex or George who post everything about their lives.

Like, have you ever seen them interact? They’re chilling they’re casual but they are friends. Whatever you think about their dynamic they are at least that.

[staticpour]

shore of nascency