#all the things that I've done

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 8, 11, 16, 25, 27- Stricken

In trying to rescue Kaminari from his own dumbassery, Katsuki gets struck by lightning

lightning, burn, pain, guilt, friendship

“Come on, Kachaaan.” Kaminari whined, making this the fiftieth time in ten minutes that he’d gotten complained at. “Please? We won’t bug you about anything ever again.”

“That’s a fucking lie.” Katsuki shouted back, staring up at his idiot that was currently stuck on the roof of the gym. “Bugging me is your favorite thing to do. Wait, no, it’s your second. Getting into dumb shit that can very easily be avoided is your favorite.”

“Heeeyyy!” Kaminari pouted.

“Seriously, Bakugou, can’t you get him down?” Ashido joined in, marking fifty-one. “I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

Katsuki just glared at her. “What am I? A dog for you to play fetch with? It’s not my fault the dumbass flung the damn thing on the roof in the first place, and making the fucking stupid decision to get himself up there without being able to get down.”

“Yeah, but if we get the teachers, then we’re gonna get in trouble.” Ashido said.

“You deserve to get in trouble.” Katsuki snapped.

“Kachaaaaaaan.” Kaminari called again from the roof. Katsuki didn’t even know how he’d gotten himself up there. “Please?”

“Please, bro?” And there was fifty-two from Kirishima, and twin please faces assaulted him. “Since Sero’s still laid up, we can’t ask him. You’re the only one who can blast up there and get him down without issue.”

Katsuki cursed Sero in his head again. Ever since that bastard broke his damn arm, everyone had come whining to him to blast himself up somewhere since he was one of the only ones in their class with that kind of precision in his quirk. Honestly, sometimes it felt like Sero did it on purpose just to get a fucking break from all this bullshit.

Katsuki turned back up to Kaminari, looking down on them from the roof, a third please face staring at him. The dark clouds behind him matched Katsuki’s mood perfectly.

Goddammit, he hated these fucking idiots.

“Give me the rope.”

Three cheers erupted from each of his idiots, and the rope that ponytail had made them was thrust into his hands. “You owe me big time for this. Especially you, dunce face!”

“Okay, Kacchan!” Kaminari chirped, moving into the middle of the roof to give Katsuki space.

Katsuki wrapped the rope around his shoulder, and got into his proper stance. A quick deep breath, and he ignited his quirk, propelling himself into the air. After training so hard to perfect his Howitzer Impact, flying through the air with his quirk was a breeze. He’d only needed one shot to get himself high enough, and his foot went out to step onto the roof.

(ask temi for sound of thunder)

Burnt ozone. Katsuki barely recognized the smell, but it was there. Before Katsuki’s heart could beat once more, fire erupted from his right shoulder, sending an unfathomable agony across each and every one of his nerves, setting them alight with a heat that couldn’t be quenched. Katsuki’s vision whited sharply, unable to hear the scream his body was making, unable to see the horrified looks on his friends’ faces, unable to see the pure light surrounding him like a fallen angel’s hellfire descent. His body went limp and he didn’t even feel it, so consumed with the burning, wretched fury of pain. Freefalling through the air, he felt like he was falling into a black hole. Darkness engulfed him, saving his mind from tumbling into the inferno of pure torment.

White light flashed across his eyelids, and he could feel sparks running up and down his body, causing his muscles to lightly convulse against his will. As he began to wake, his mind sank further and further into static, a white noise like pelting raindrops and indecipherable noises, only cognizant of the blinding pain stemming from his shoulder.

“Wake up, Bakugou, please wake up!”

His throat wasn’t his own, only gasps and groans could pass his lips, so he couldn’t answer his best friend. It took several moments to recognize that it was Kirishima, but he was still talking, still begging him to wake up, and the constantness of Kirishima’s voice allowed him to figure out who was talking. He couldn’t move his arms or legs to move out of the water that was pelting him, with every drop being a sharp knife stabbing into his skin. There was a soft pressure on his cheek, but he couldn’t remember why it was there, the last thing he could remember was Kaminari being stuck on the roof. He suddenly became aware of an intense heat under his skin, starting from his shoulder and going all across his body, burning his body from the inside out. His only thought became the hot, searing pain in his shoulder, and he lost reality once more.

A soothing, icy touch pressed against his shoulder, thin but firm, and with it, the scorching, fiery pain settled into a mere boiling of his blood instead of all-consuming agony. He grasped onto consciousness as best as he could, pulling another low groan from his throat, as if he were trying to scream from the agony but didn’t have enough control over his body to do so. A steady thrum ran through his perception of consciousness, growing stronger with rapid intensity until he felt as if he were a live wire. Crackling energy raced from his shoulder into his limbs, setting his nerves alight with sensation, with an overstimulated feeling to the point where it was as if the very air was tangible, almost crunchy as he moved through it.

Every aspect of him hurt, hurt in a way that he couldn’t describe with mere words. He wanted to ask what happened, what was causing those white sparks to flash across his closed eyelids, but his throat was too busy trying to pull in weak air to his twitching lungs to try and satisfy his boiling blood. He’d been burned before, an explosive quirk meant a lot of burns in training, but this wasn't like anything he’d ever suffered. Sweat poured down his face, and he could feel his muscles still shaking with every second, his heart feeling like it was missing something every three times. He tried to latch onto the voices around him, using them as the only thing keeping him from losing his mind to the violent, blazing torment in his shoulder. The weak, reedy breaths he managed to take did little to ease the pain, to lift the static in his mind to give him control of himself once again.

Several hands came to his body, the soft pressure leaving his cheek, going under his head, his back, his legs. The voices around him were stronger, closer to him, and he felt them lift him into the air. He couldn’t help the exhausted, pained whimper from escaping his traitorous throat as another white flash erupted across his eyelids, each miniscule movement drawing another piece of agony to each individual nerve in the cruciation that had once been his shoulder. Darkness pulled at his closed eyes, as if knowing he was weak, so weak he could barely think coherently, but his will power burned a different kind of fire under his skin to try and stay awake.

Every single second, every movement sent a new agony through him, the electric crackling in his muscles making even breathing hurt. It would be so easy to just stop, to just give up and let darkness take him, but he couldn’t do that. Giving up just wasn’t in his blood, boiling as it was. Water was running down his face, and he wondered if he had the strength to cry, or if it was the water stabbing into him with every droplet. His breath was pulled from his body, leaving him for too long, just making his lungs twitch and convulse even more, each second bringing a new wave of agony to the forefront of his mind.

Katsuki felt himself being placed on something stiff that wasn’t the ground he’d just been on, grass no longer stabbing into his back. But small, wet bullets dug into his skin, and the heat in his blood reached unfathomable levels, and he lost reality again as what he was laying on lurched to life, moving at a speed he couldn’t comprehend. Time slipped through his hands like water from a faucet, but somehow it was as slow as molasses at the same time. Katsuki’s mind couldn’t keep up, and the darkness that had been taunting him since he’d woken up pounced, and he fell sharply into the nothingness that it promised.

“Lightning?!?” Katsuki shouted incredulously. “I was struck by fucking lightning?!?”

Aizawa nodded, and Katsuki reeled from the shock. “From what I can figure out, when you went up in the air to get Kaminari down from the roof, you caught the edge of the thunderstorm that was just starting. Thankfully, you only caught a side flash, a direct one that close to your heart would’ve killed you. You were very, very lucky.”

Katsuki just stared in disbelief at his teacher for a minute, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d just been struck by lightning. Unconsciously, his left hand came to his right shoulder, feeling the tender flesh beneath his fingers. When he’d gotten healed by Recovery Girl in the past, he could barely feel any lingering aches in his body once she was done, the only exception being Nabu island and that fight with Nine. He still couldn’t remember what happened and how his arms had gotten so destroyed, but he remembered how it felt after Recovery Girl had healed him. It had felt so odd when the damage was so deep that there was leftover pain, and it felt just as odd now. His hand dropped to his lap, not wanting to prod the still sensitive burn on his shoulder. He’d never been more glad that humans can’t remember pain, he only had flashes of broken memories after the strike and before waking up in the infirmary, and he never wanted to go after those memories. He never thought he’d be happy about forgetting something.

He just nodded at his teacher, understanding what he was saying.

“Recovery Girl has cleared you to head back to the dorms, but you’re still out of classes for a week.” Aizawa said, handing him some folded clothes. He took them, opening his mouth to protest, but Aizawa just held up a hand. “No. Lightning strikes can have several consequences, including paralysis and cardiac arrest. What your body needs now is rest, and you’re going to get it. The only reason that you’re allowed to go back to the dorms is because I know that you wouldn’t get any actual rest staying in here for a week. You need to be careful with yourself. Not many people survive what you just went through. Now get dressed, your classmates are already chomping at the bit to see you again.”

Katsuki frowned at that, he didn’t want to be swarmed with those extras, but he supposed if one of them got struck by lightning and almost died (gods he almost died) he’d want to see that they were okay. Not that he cared, because of course he didn’t, but just because a near death experience meant that he might have to deal with someone new. If one of those extras died, he’d have to deal with a replacement and they might be worse, so best to check to make sure that the extras he was at least used to were still alive.

The skull tee and comfortable leggings that only Kirishima could’ve gotten him, as he was the only one who Katsuki allowed into his always locked room, were a small mercy he appreciated. The hospital clothes he was in now were uncomfortable and ill-fitting, and Katsuki hated being in them. Aizawa patted his leg gently, and then headed out. Katsuki headed to the changing room, ready to be out of these clothes and out of this building. He hated that he was going to be out of class for a week over nothing, but right now, he was looking forward to lying down in his own bed. Katsuki was seriously tired of the beds in the infirmary.

Apparently the lightning strike had also set fire to his clothes, so he’d been given a pathetic hospital tent canvass and gym shorts, and he practically ripped them off. His arm and shoulder were still bandaged even though he’d been healed, but it wasn’t the bandage that caught his eye. It was what was coming out of it. There were a couple new lines of raised pink lines on his skin that hadn’t been there the last time he looked in a mirror. A quick touch had him wincing lightly, as it seemed like the origin of the pain still in his shoulder. Even though he knew he probably shouldn’t take the bandage off, his hands had already started unwinding it, revealing more pink as he went. Several lines of fresh scars decorated his shoulder now, branching out from his shoulder to his collarbone, all leading back to his shoulder. At the joint, there was a mass of them, a small blob of scar where all the branches ran from. This must be where he’d gotten struck, the scars all stemming from here. It was like a tree’s roots spread all over his body.

Katsuki’s breath left him for a moment. Even with the other injuries he’d ever had, including the final exam, there were never any scars left over. Recovery Girl’s quirk didn’t leave scars. This was the first scar he’d ever gotten in his life. His lungs stuttered in his chest, his heart skipped a beat, and then another. Gods… he could’ve died. He almost died. If he had shot himself up in the air just a little bit higher, he would’ve died.

Hastily, he rewrapped the bandages, pushing down the tears building in his eyes. He was fine now, he was fine now. It didn’t matter that he’d almost died, he didn’t. Gods, he almost died. A few tears slipped down his cheeks, and he scrubbed violently at them. Once the bandage was completely rewrapped, looking as if he hadn’t touched it even though his hands had started shaking, he shoved both hands into his eyes. Stop crying, he told himself. He was fine now, that was all that mattered. This pathetic display of emotion was unnecessary, and he didn’t like spending any time on unnecessary emotions. They were useless to him, so he stuffed them down as far as he possibly could, until he couldn’t feel them anymore.

It took another minute for his heaving breaths to steady out again, and he just put his clothes on, as if nothing had happened. He didn’t dare look in the mirror again. He couldn’t risk another bout of those horrible, and completely unnecessary emotions. He didn’t die. That was all that mattered. He just had to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

If his eyes were still red, then Aizawa at least had the good grace not to say anything. Katsuki was thankful for that. They walked in comfortable silence back to the dorms, the route unusually quiet for a Saturday night. Normally, the weekends had lots of people running around.

“Why is it so quiet?” Katsuki asked casually. “Everyone’s always out on the weekends.”

“That’s because it’s monday.” Aizawa sighed, pursing his lips. “You’ve been unconscious for a long time.”

Katsuki’s heart skipped another beat. His throat got a little tight, only able to make a small, affirmative noise, but he just shoved his emotions down again. It was fine. He was more upset about missing the weekend. That was definitely the bigger issue here. He hated missing out on good sparring time, and he liked to get in some good studying before the weekend was out. He distracted himself from the missing time with the thought that at least he’d get in plenty of studying time when he was resting.

The dorms were quieter than expected. Even on school nights, there were still some idiots, usually his idiots, who were making too much noise and staying up too late. But he couldn’t hear his friends laughing and chattering at each other, or even the other extras really. His constant scowl got deeper.

“He’s back!”

Katsuki couldn’t even process the shout before something hard slammed into him. Arms wrapped around his body, squeezing hard. Two arms became four, and then six, with two more lumps crashing into him. Katsuki’s eye twitched. He’d never allowed his friends to hug him before, and now he was completely trapped by Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari to where he couldn’t even move his arms. A seventh joined him, and Sero was at his side, squeezing lightly with one arm, as the other was still in a sling.

“Let. go. now.” Katsuki growled, completely overwhelmed by the sudden influx of touch. His skin was still crawling even when they let go. Katsuki just grit his teeth as they all bombarded him with their shouts.

“Are you okay?”

“We’re so sorry.”

“How do you feel?”

“Gods, we’re so sorry!”

Katsuki’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he looked at his friends’ crying faces. Tears stained Ashido’s cheeks, Kaminari’s too, and Sero and Kirishima’s eyes were both red. While his friends had approached him first, he could feel everyone staring at him, looking him over silently. Dammit, he couldn’t handle this kind of attention.

“Just shut up, all of you!” He snapped. “I’m fine, it’s over. Doesn’t matter. Leave me alone.”

Instead of doing as he asked, Kaminari just attacked him again, hugging him very tightly, sniffling in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Bakugou! You weren’t supposed to get hurt, I’ll never ask you to do something ever again. I’m so sorry.”

Awkwardly, Katsuki patted Kaminari’s back as his electric idiot started sobbing into his good shoulder. He’d never been put in this position before, he had no idea what to do or how to get him to stop.

“It’s fine, pikachu.” Katsuki gritted out. “You can stop now.”

This time, Kaminari listened. He pulled back, still loudly sniffling but not crying on him anymore. That was at least some progress.

“I’m fine, back the fuck off.” Katsuki snarled, still very overwhelmed since his friends hadn’t gotten out of his personal space.

“Oh! I made you something!” Kaminari then exclaimed, running back into the dorms. Katsuki took that moment to get past the porch, and actually head back inside. Kaminari had run to the kitchen, and come back with a plate, covered with tinfoil. It was then thrust into his hands.

Katsuki didn’t know what possessed him to take it, but when he unwrapped the foil, he found misshapen cookies underneath. He couldn’t even tell what kind they were.

“They’re spicy, I put in extra chilly flakes.” Oh gods, these were going to taste horrendous. “And some of your coffee beans too.” Oh gods, these were going to taste horrendous.

But… he couldn’t deny his friend. As much as he was very annoyed and irritated right now with his friends’ actions, there was something in him that wouldn’t let him outwardly throw them away or disparage them. He couldn’t imagine being in Kaminari’s shoes, having someone getting struck by lightning because you did something stupid. Granted, he never did anything stupid (well, maybe not never, but it was very rare) so he’d never end up in Kaminari’s shoes, but… he couldn’t do it. Especially not with Kaminari looking at him so sincerely. In the past, he would’ve called it pity, but he didn’t think it was. He knew now what Kaminari looked like when he was upset, this was a lot closer to when he knew he’d disappointed Katsuki than feeling sorry for him.

“I’m not hungry.” Katsuki said, and he wasn’t. His voice dropped a couple octaves. “I’ll take them up to my room.”

Kaminari brightened a little at that.

“I’m going to bed, now leave me the fuck alone, losers.” Katsuki said, heading to the elevator. His friends followed just a little, wanting to hover over him, but they knew better thankfully, and didn’t follow him into the elevator. His bedroom door was unlocked, and he scowled at it, but he found a new set of keys on his nightstand. His keys had probably caught fire too in his pocket.

Morbid curiosity taunted him, and he took a small bite from one of the cookies. Immediately, he spit it out into the trash, gagging on the terrible taste. That was one of the worst things he’d ever had in his life. He had to figure out how to get rid of these without Kaminari finding out. It was definitely one of the worst foods he’d ever had in his life, but Kaminari wasn’t one of the worst people he’d ever had in his life, and he supposed intention is more important than the outcome.

Katsuki thought about changing into pajamas, but decided that he didn’t care enough to put in the effort, and he just flopped into bed. He took a long deep breath, and closed his eyes, ready to go to sleep. He wasn’t exactly tired, but it was late, and he had his routine to keep. 

His breathing became erratic, and he couldn’t stop it. Tears built up behind his eyes and he couldn’t push them down. The hands that he’d placed behind his head as he usually did when he was calming down to sleep slid down to grasp at his own arms.

Now that he was alone in his room, he couldn’t keep his emotions down any longer, and he curled a little into a ball and just started sobbing. He buried his face in his pillow, hiding his face as he cried, the shame of being unable to control himself was smothered by the grief and terror that flooded his mind like a broken dam. He almost died. The slightest change in any movement, and he would’ve died. He hadn’t felt anything like this since Kamino, but he’d been able to smother his feelings better then. He’d had adversaries, he’d had distractions. He’d been terrified for his life, but he refused to let the League see how scared he was. He’d been able to hide it so well he’d even hidden it from himself. But he couldn’t hide this, not when he could still feel the lingering ache in his shoulder, could still feel the raised pink lines now etched into his shoulder, and he couldn’t hide just how terrified that made him.

Gods, he’d almost died.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he’d cried, it wasn’t like he timed it, but eventually, he drifted into a sort of half-doze. It was a very light sleep, not deep enough to dream, his mind floating back up to consciousness occasionally but never waking him up fully.

A quiet knock startled him out of it completely.

“Um, Bakugou?” Ah. Kaminari again. He wondered when he was gonna get back to calling him Kacchan. It would feel like a return to normal, even if he didn’t like being called that.

Katsuki got out of bed, scrubbing at his face, trying to erase any sign of tear tracks on his cheeks. He opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “What, pikachu?”

“Um, about the cookies.” Kaminari said, and he saw the uneaten cookies on Katsuki’s nightstand. But before he could answer, say that he’d eat them later, Kaminari continued. “You don’t have to eat them. I know they’re gross. I had a couple left over that didn’t come out right, and we tried them and I think I poisoned Kirishima. so. you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to get hurt twice because of me.”

The smile that Kaminari tried and failed to make just made Katsuki feel bad for him. Kaminari was always so happy and chipper, even if sometimes he was panicked about it, and seeing him feeling this low made the emotions he was still feeling flare up.

“Next time you feel like making cookies, don’t.” Katsuki grumbled, huffing quietly. Kaminari just shrunk at that, like a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders. “And ask me for help first.”

Happiness bloomed on Kaminari’s face like a sunflower at dawn.

[snarkspawn]

the devil you know

[iamanartichoke]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

[segretecose]

sometimes i don't care about a poll but if i see my mutuals feel strongly about it then i silently vote for their option and i expect nothing in return because that's the kind of beautiful selfless person i am

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] drawn for fun, he doesn't know how to hold that thing wwwwww

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[mienar]

stillness in these waking hours

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[reasonsforhope]

People ask me sometimes how I'm so confident that we can beat climate change.

There are a lot of reasons, but here's a major one: it would take a really, really long time for Earth to genuinely become uninhabitable for humans.

Humans have, throughout history, carved out a living for themselves in some of the most harsh, uninhabitable corners of the world. The Arctic Circle. The Sahara. The peaks of the Himalayas. The densest, most tropical regions of the Amazon Rainforest. The Australian Outback. etc. etc.

Frankly, if there had been a land bridge to Antarctica, I'm pretty sure we would have been living there for thousands of years, too. And in fact, there are humans living in Antarctica now, albeit not permanently.

And now, we're not even facing down apocalypse, anymore. Here's a 2022 quote from the author of The Uninhabitable Earth, David Wallace-Wells, a leader on climate change and the furthest thing from a climate optimist:

"The most terrifying predictions [have been] made improbable by decarbonization and the most hopeful ones practically foreclosed by tragic delay. The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse. Over the last several months, I’ve had dozens of conversations — with climate scientists and economists and policymakers, advocates and activists and novelists and philosophers — about that new world and the ways we might conceptualize it. Perhaps the most capacious and galvanizing account is one I heard from Kate Marvel of NASA, a lead chapter author on the fifth National Climate Assessment: “The world will be what we make it.”" -David Wallace-Wells for the New York Times, October 26, 2022

If we can adapt to some of the harshest climates on the planet - if we could adapt to them thousands of years ago, without any hint of modern technology - then I have every faith that we can adjust to the world that is coming.

What matters now is how fast we can change, because there is a wide, wide gap between "climate apocalypse" and "no harm done." We've already passed no harm done; the climate disasters are here, and they've been here. People have died from climate disasters already, especially in the Global South, and that will keep happening.

But as long as we stay alive - as long as we keep each other alive - we will have centuries to fix the effects of climate change, as much as we possibly can.

And looking at how far we've come in the past two decades alone - in the past five years alone - I genuinely think it is inevitable that we will overcome climate change.

So, we're going to survive climate change, as a species.

What matters now is making sure that every possible individual human survives climate change as well.

What matters now is cutting emissions and reinventing the world as quickly as we possibly can.

What matters now is saving every life and livelihood and way of life that we possibly can.

[repmet]

@rwrbsource & @rwrbmovie’s rwrb appreciation month bingo: favourite scene

I'll break the sound barrier for you.

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

Me: What would happen if I slowed *that moment* down...

Me: 👀👀👀 And um...what if I, um, looped it?

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 I...am having THOTS...and thinking about...SITUATIONS...and I... 😵‍💫

Pedro Pascal as Joel Miller in The Last of Us, HBO (Episode 9)

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[watermelinoe]

you cannot convince me that these people don't just hate women

[lazylittledragon]

isn't it weird how if you get up at 7 or 8, do your work all day, then have free time and go to bed at 11 that's absolutely fine

but if i said i get up at 10, do fun stuff in the morning then work in the evening and go to bed late, i could be called lazy, nevermind that i'm getting just as much or MORE work done as i would in a traditional work day

[teaboot]

you're so like. inspiring. or i wish i could be inspired. you reblog that post with the blue critter and you're like "im glad i was born on this planet". how do i manage to get that mindset. how do i manage to not want the pain to stop at any cost and enjoy what's still possible to enjoy

It's my first time here and I'm never coming back

[anewp0tat0]

looks like I can draw again!!

Sebastian called him "orphan" for the rest of the week.