#and like. continue taking better care of myself in general so these issues don’t get any worse and i don’t do any more damage

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

How to NOT write like Vivziepop guide!

Writing tips:

1. Don't treat SA/Rape as a joke. Seriously, it shouldn't be that hard. EX: In Helluva Boss; Spring Broken, Moxxie goes to talk to Verosika and her crew in hopes to get them to move her car. He gets SA'd as a result and we're supposed to see that as a joke.

I don't specifically remember the episode name, but Sir pentious asks Cherri if she wants to have sex with him but he then gets scared/nervous and says "BECAUSE I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH EVERYONE!!" or something like that. He then gets taken by a bunch of people into a room and he CLEARLY looks uncomfortable. Again, I suppose we're supposed to see that as a joke for some reason.

SA/Rape isn't funny, and you can offend tons of people writing it so carelessly. DON'T DO THAT!

2. If your characters come from a certain era, RESEARCH THAT ERA. Ex: Alastor was supposed to be a famous radio host in the 1920s (seeing as he died in 1933) when he was alive despite being a mixed (Black and white) man. Jim Crow laws existed in those times so Alastor couldn't have become a popular radio host unless he was white passing, which we don't know. Also, from what I got from @bump-inthe-night the first black radio personality in Louisiana was Vernon Winslow, known as Dr. Daddy-O, in 1949.

Also, from @bump-inthe-night - (her words were pasted here because I couldn't have said it better myself) Despite dying in 1947, Angel overdosed on PCP. This drug was discovered in 1926, and it started being utilized as a general anesthetic in the 1950s. PCP became a street drug in the 1960s and gained popularity in the 1970s. It's impossible for Angel to have overdosed on this drug when he was alive. RESEARCH. BEFORE. YOU. WRITE. THE. CHARACTER.

This is also from @/bump-inthe-night. Sir Pentious died in 1888, but he’s wearing a shoulder-padded suit. Shoulder pads, invented in 1877, were used in football uniforms. They didn’t cross over into fashion and become popular until the 1930s. Sir Pentious shouldn’t be wearing a shoulder-padded suit, and neither should Vox, who died in the 1950s, when this started falling out of style.

3. Don't victimize characters that obviously shouldn't be victimized. Example: Stolas.

I will tag the people who inspired this post and paste their stuff here because they say these things better than me.

@flower-boi16 says "So fucking what if Stolas was neglected as a child or had a mean wife? How does that relate to ANY of his actions he takes throughout the series??? It doesn’t excuse SHIT. Granted, the “this character’s trauma is not an excuse” argument is a kind of argument I’ve grown to be annoyed by due to how often it gets misused. Yes, a character’s backstory or trauma doesn’t excuse or justify their actions.

The issue arises though when the character’s bad actions are a direct response to that trauma and so it can make it look like your just ignoring major context for what lead to the character doing these actions just so you can label them as irredeemable. With Stolas, however, I have no hesitation in saying that whatever backstory and trauma he may have I genuinely don’t care because that trauma doesn’t matter to ANY of his actions.

The “his daughter doesn’t like him” defense doesn’t work because 1. Octavia is shown to still care for her father and is actually shown to be excited to spend time with him in Seeing Stars and 2. Octavia has a perfectly valid reason to dislike Stolas given how shitty of a father he is to her.

The “Stolas is well meaning/believes that Blitzo likes being treated like a sex toy” defense also doesn’t work when Stolas can very clearly see that Blitzo does NOT like being treated that way. Ffs Blitz was completely shocked and disgusted by Stolas’ sexual remarks on him on the phone in Loo Loo Land, Stolas can clearly see Blitz DOESN'T ENJOY THIS but continues flirting with him anyway. Anyone who is well-meaning can still see when they fucked up."

@floralcavern "Stolas is the epitome of writers thinking they wrote a deep character when they actually created the most shallowly written character of all time. Stolas receives no consequences, no call outs, no growth, because he gets the excuse of ‘he’s abused’ to not have to face anything bad happen to him. It’s infuriating how shielded he is by the writers."

4. Understand what your writing! This is also from @/floralcavern and I couldn't agree more. "And Helluva Boss didn’t need extremely deep characters. It started off as a comedy, where characters could do messed up, edgy shit because nothing is meant to be taken seriously. But then suddenly the show decides to become a super serious, soap opera drama?? It completely derails its original premise to be something completely different. The beginning of Helluva Boss and what we currently have are 2 completely different shows. And I’m not saying comedies can’t have depth. One of my favorite examples is Dan Da Dan! It’s literally a show about a guy whose dick was stolen by a ghost. And yet, the show writers know how to balance ridiculous comedy and storytelling with genuine, human moments. But Viv’s shows don’t have that balance. The show is hardly a comedy anymore and takes itself way too seriously, while also refusing to acknowledge actual things that need to be acknowledged."

5. This should be obvious but don't make male characters (or any characters for that matter) that are supposed to be gay call their sisters "hot" or "Sexy". Example: Andrelphus or whatever his name is. It comes off as extremely gross and really unnecessary. Vivziepop said he does that to make others think he's straight?????...Andrelphus was literally in the pride parade art. WTF VIV?!

So yeah, don't do that unless it's relevant to the plot. Like the characters have a secret incestual relationship or the incest is being pushed/forced onto the other sibling character or SOMETHING! And no, before you say it, Stella never looked comfortable being called attractive by her own brother.

5. Don't fetishize rape or have/hire people that work under you that do. It's as simple as that.

6. When writing serious topics such as SA, TREAT THE TOPIC SERIOUSLY!

7. Be mindful of stereotypes. I've learned (with the help of others pointing it out) that Angel Dust is a stereotype of gay men.

8. Call out your characters for their actions. Angel is shown to sexually harass other male characters with no call outs or apologies. Same can be said for Stolas.

I'm not sure of what else to add. If anyone else wants to add something, feel free to comment or reblog. Your words will help others a lot!

[transfemme-shelterdog]

one particular aspect of transandrophobia I experienced that I feel like I don’t see get talked about often is the way that people, and in my case my mother especially, act so fucking possessive over what they perceive to be a young girl’s femininity. my mom was accepting of queerness in general, but when it was her own child coming out as a boy she couldn’t handle it because she felt like I was taking something away from her. I was being treated like an object that existed to fulfill my mother’s expectations, including all of the gendered bullshit she had projected onto me. Even once she “accepted” that I was trans she still made everything about her feelings. She was constantly guilt-tripping me, telling me how she missed playing with my long hair, or that she was sad I would never wear a dress at my wedding, crying about my name change because she felt like I was discarding the first thing she ever gave me. She constantly made subtle attempts to push me back into femininity, like buying me “masculine” womens clothes instead of just letting me shop in the mens section, or pointing out anything about me that could be considered feminine as a sort of “gotcha!” And even when I was socially transitioning, she would get really angry every time I talked about wanting to transition medically, intentionally delaying my transition and forcing me to continue to go through a puberty that was a living hell for me.

Luckily she eventually worked through most of this when she was forced to confront how suicidal dysphoria was making me, and when she saw how much happier I was when I could actually start to feel and look like myself. But it still took literal years for her to start seeing me as my own person, who could be trusted to assert my own identity and whose happiness and comfort was more important than what she wanted or expected me to be.

I know that non-transmasculine people also go through similar experiences, where their parent(s) feel like they’re owed a particular gender expression and force them to perform it or punish them if they don’t. But for me it was very specifically not just about me being gnc or queer - my parents would have had far less issue with that, to the point where when I first tried to come out as nonbinary they just assumed that meant I was bi or a lesbian and didn’t really seem to care. It was specifically about me being trans, and about the fact that I no longer identified as a girl, when things started to get really shitty for me.

To all my fellow transmascs: Your body and identity are your own. You do not owe anyone femininity. You do not owe anyone anything. You do not have to perform for anyone. You deserve to express yourself freely and without shame, and the world is better with you in it <3

.

[veephoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: swearing, talks about physical abuse, physical fight, implied depression, alcohol intake. | Word count: 3.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

 “You’re no better than me, Noah!”  “I don’t give a shit. You touch her, you answer to me!”

Author's note: I'm so so sorry for taking ages to update this fic. I'm back to working on it now, and I plan on completing the missing chapters for this part during this month ^^ This is the baby of my fics and the first one I wrote with Noah, so it's very special and personal, and I can't wait to fully dive into it again and continue the story from Zutto. Thank you to each of you that are still following and keep supporting this story, it means a lot to me 🤍 (I don't even know if I had a taglist for part 2, but if you want to be tagged, please just let me know and I'll create a taglist for the upcoming missing chapters ^^).

“Oh, crap,” I heard Lia mutter from the kitchen. 

            I made my way from the studio and leaned out through the doorframe into the open kitchen. Lia stood by the island, still in her pajamas, her arms raised at shoulder level as she surveyed the scene before her. The scent of that morning’s breakfast still lingered in the air as she cautiously stepped back from the puddle of liquid on the floor.  

            “What happened?” I asked.

                She turned to face me, revealing a knocked-over bottle of juice and a sizable mess on the floor. Her clothes were stained, clinging to her skin. 

            “I’m sorry,” she apologized, taking a few more cautious steps away from the messed-up area before reaching the kitchen rag beside the sink. 

            I approached her, careful not to tread on the spilled juice, and took the rag from her hands.  

            “It’s alright. I’ll handle it. You go get changed.”

            Lia looked at me with a touch of helplessness, her shoulders slumping. 

            Five minutes later, her voice called out my name from the bedroom. I found her locked in the bathroom, the scent of her toiletries and perfume wafting out. When I entered the bedroom, she peered out from the bathroom door.

            “What is it now?” I asked. 

            “I need something to wear,” she said. “These pajamas need to get washed. Can I borrow one of your…?”

            Before she could finish, I had already nodded and made my way to the drawer. I pulled out the first t-shirt I found and handed it to her through the open bathroom door. She thanked me with a small smile before closing the door. 

            When she appeared in the hallway a few minutes later, with her hair gathered in a messy bun with two stray locks escaping from it and wearing white socks and my oversized t-shirt that fell down to her knees, I couldn’t resist eyeing her up and down. I couldn’t stop myself that time, and I could not stop myself later, when she’d reach for a cereal box placed too high in the kitchen cabinets and the hem of the t-shirt would ride up, revealing another slice of her thighs, nor when she’d walk and the fabric swayed, teasingly revealing more. The sight was too tempting.

            I’d seen her in less clothing before, at the pool, at the beach. Hell, she’d even changed outfits in front of me once clad only in her underwear. Yet, there was something different about seeing her in my clothes. I knew the details—her hidden nipple piercing, the scar on her waist. Yes, she had also worn my t-shirt many other times, even when we lived together in the past. But this time it felt singular. With us being home alone (Jolly off at a friend’s house), there was an inherent intimacy in having Lia here like this. She was my responsibility. I had to look after her. And I couldn’t help but think that this was what I had been doing all my life and what I wanted to keep doing. 

            “I’m a mess,” she muttered, looking defeated.  

            “You’re not,” I reassured her with a half-smile, wiping my hands on the rag.

            With a sigh and a rub of her hand across her forehead, she hesitated a moment before speaking. 

            “Do you think you could take me to Mitch’s house?” 

            The question caught me off guard, making me look down at her with a frown between my brows. 

            “To retrieve the rest of my things”, she clarified. “I want to get it done. He should be at work now, and I still have a spare key.”

            “I’ll go,” I offered.  

            “No,” she insisted firmly, shaking her head. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

            “You said he’s at work.”

            “He should be, but I don’t want to take chances.”

            “And I don’t want to take chances with you,” I asserted, trying to make her see my concern. Her features softened at my words.

            “I’m not taking chances with you, either” she replied, giving me that determined girl’s look that said that she wouldn’t change her mind, no matter how hard I might try. 

            This time, I was the one who sighed. I nodded and told her to get ready; we would leave in the next twenty minutes. 

If Lia had seemed confident and determined when suggesting that we go to Mitch's house to pick up her things, that attitude faded and her confidence waned as we neared the residential area. I noticed her shrinking back in her seat, fingers fidgeting in her lap. 

            While I wouldn’t have minded going alone and spare her the discomfort, I also didn’t want to overstep boundaries with her. Plus, after a little bit of thought, perhaps this final visit could help her find closure, putting an end to that chapter of her life… 

            Mitch was a fucking bastard, and I didn't think my desire to beat him up would lessen any time soon. At least it was satisfying to arrive at his block and find his trashed car. The boys had done a pretty good job. Lia, however, said nothing, her eyes fixed on the vehicle, her mouth slightly agape. 

            After a few moments, she blinked and shook her head, stepping out of my car and gesturing for me to follow. 

            We stood in front of Mitch’s apartment door. Lia attempted to insert the key into the lock, but her hands were trembling. I took hold of her wrist, relieving her of the keys to open the door myself.        Before entering, I squeezed her shoulder and reminded her that if she felt overwhelmed at any point, she could wait in the car, or we could leave immediately.

            I felt a swell of pride witnessing how Lia composed herself, focusing on the task at hand. 

            The house appeared even worse than when I had pulled Lia out from that toxic environment. Dirty dishes were piling up high in the sink, empty beer bottles were strewn about, cupboards were left open, and dirty laundry was scattered around. The apartment exuded a musty odor, and my heart ached at the thought of Lia having spent so many days under such conditions.  

            Lia had brought a couple of suitcases with her, and I had retrieved and folded two empty cardboard boxes I had found in the garage from the last merchandising order. We filled them with what was left of her clothes. Lia didn’t say, but I sensed that she had been afraid she would find that Mitch had burned her clothes or done something like that. Luckily, Lia’s clothes that had been left there were still in place. She gathered up her things and even a couple of mugs that belonged to her that she found at the bottom of one of the cupboards in the kitchen. 

            I excused myself briefly to take the heavy boxes to the car. 

            When I returned, I was greeted by the sound of cups shattering. I rushed to the kitchen to find Lia smashing everything in sight, her face contorted in anger.  

            “Hey, hey. That’s enough,” I intervened, first attempting to quell her destructive frenzy by restraining her hands, then encircling her waist to guide her away from the chaos she made of the kitchen. Tears welled in her eyes as I managed to pause her rampage, standing together amidst the wreckage. “Lia, enough. Let’s go. There’s no need to cause any more damage. The apartment is already a mess,” I urged, my voice firm yet gentle. “You won’t get anything from doing this.”

            “I don’t care. I want to wreck his life like he wrecked mine,” she retorted with a fierce tone. 

            “Lia,” I gently cupped her chin, waiting until her tear-filled gaze met mine. “He’s lost you. He can’t get any more miserable than that. His life is already in shambles.”

            A few sobs threatened to escape her. She reminded me of a small child in need of a hug and safety, things that her own mother had neglected her from. 

            “Why do you always have the right things to say?” she whispered, her voice strained with emotion.

            I shrugged, offering a faint smile. “Maybe it’s some sort of autopilot mode that kicks in when I see my best friend hurting.”

            With that, she let her head fall against my chest. After a few moments, her breathing steadied, and she released her grip on my hoodie, stepping back.

            “I'll check if there’s anything left in the bathroom. Then, we can go,” she declared, sniffing and wiping her face with her hands. 

            I nodded, watching her retreat before turning my attention to the task of loading the suitcases into the trunk of my car, leaving the door of the house ajar behind me. As I arranged the boxes and bags like pieces of a puzzle, the morning sunlight bathed the quiet street, where a few cars passed by and pedestrians enjoyed leisurely walks, unaware of the what we were going through.

            I decided to tidy up the car’s interior while I waited for her, clearing dust off the seats and ensuring there was no overlooked clutter. Lost in my task, I didn’t expect the sudden piercing scream that echoed from inside the apartment, followed by Lia screaming my name. Within a second, I bolted back inside. 

            Lia was trapped at the far end of the hallway, overshadowed by a figure much larger than herself, leaving her with nowhere to go. 

            Even before his voice reached my ears, I knew it was him. I’d recognize that bastard anywhere now. My muscles tensed at the sight. 

            “You thought I wouldn’t catch you sneaking back in?” he was saying to Lia. “Lucky for you, I decided to take a few days off because my damn car is fucking trashed! I step out for twenty mintues to grab some beer, and look who waltzes back into the house!” Mitch’s voice filled the hallway with venom.

            “Get away from her, now,” I grunted through gritted teeth. 

            Mitch turned to face me, his expression showing no surprise, but his eyes widened as Lia took the opportunity to slip past him towards me. Mitch made a clumsy grab for her, but I was faster and swiftly moved to shield Lia behind me.  

            “Well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charming,” Mitch sneered, his face contorted with malice. “Not surprised to see you here, considering you couldn’t leave the bitch’s mind for a second during our entire relationship.”

            “Watch your mouth, I warn you,” I replied, my finger pointing towards him.  “God knows I’m dying to break your face for what you did to her.”

            “Yeah. Did you ever stop to think that maybe she deserved what she got?”

            “Don’t you even dare,” I muttered, raising a finger. My breathing was becoming ragged, and Lia’s hand clutching at the back of my hoodie wasn’t helping. She was nearly pressed against me, and I could feel her own heartbeat against my back. 

            “What? You really didn’t?” Mitch questioned, raising his chin. “Of course everything she got, she got it because of you! Because you were always somewhere in that little head of hers! Wasn’t he, Lia? I’m sure you even thought of him while I fucked y—!”

            I charged towards him, a surge of raw emotion flooding my senses, an amalgamation of anger, fear, and protectiveness that suddenly threatened to consume me. Lia’s tear-streaked face loomed large in my mind, her pain igniting a fire within me, driving me forward with a fervor I had never known. When I launched myself at Mitch, I did so by grabbing his shirt. propelling us forcefully towards the wall. 

            “You son of a bitch,” he shouted.  

            “You’re a despicable piece of trash,” I spat back. 

            “You’re no better than me, Noah!”

            “I don’t give a shit. You touch her, you answer to me!”

            And it was about time that he fucking answered.  

            The words dripped with a venomous promise as I launched myself at him again. Every fiber of my being screamed with the need to protect Lia and to give this piece of shit what he deserved. Mitch’s fist collided with my face, splitting my lip and sending a jolt of pain searing through my body. But in that moment, the pain took a backseat to an overwhelming need to unleash all my pent-up rage. I hit him back. The surge of ferocity was foreign to me, but I had no intention to contain it.  

            “She’s nothing more than a fragile little thing, always needing her dear best friend Noah. But you couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having her, either. Could you, Noah?!” Mitch’s loud voice reverberated with malice.  

            “Shut up!” I shouted back. 

            “No! I want to know. Have you fucked her yet?!”

            With a primal roar, I lunged at Mitch, my fists flying in a flurry of punches aimed at his face. The force of our collision sent us crashing to the ground, the impact jarring my already split lip, while Mitch’s bruises and cuts began to ooze blood.

            Every blow I landed carried the weight of months of pent-up frustration and fear, fueled by the knowledge that Mitch had been terrorizing Lia for far too long and that he didn’t seem to stop. His abuse had not only left Lia bruised and broken; it had shattered her spirit. 

            But it was Lia’s own rage that fueled and ended the fight. With every blow exchanged, I could sense her anger boiling over as she screamed at Mitch to stop hitting me while we rolled on the floor. With one last scream, Lia launched herself at Mitch, driving her foot into his chest and then delivering a forceful kick to his side, causing him to clutch his stomach. When he stood up and staggered backwards into the hallway, expecting Lia to retreat, she advanced with determined steps, and with a swift strike to his knee, she brought him crashing to the ground again. 

            “Don’t you ever touch Noah again,” she seethed.  

            Mitch lay sprawled on the floor, bloodied, and defeated. She spit on the floor next to him, cementing her resolve to end that right there right then.   

            “You’re doomed, Lia. Hate me all you want,” he said, checking his nose with a hand and checking the blood dripping from one of the nostrils. 

            “I don’t hate you,” Lia stated. “You don’t even deserve that from me.”

            “Whatever. You’ll be miserable for the rest of your life,” he said, clutching his stomach as blood dripped from his face onto his t-shirt. His left eyebrow began to swell. My knuckles hurt from the hitting, but fuck him. “Now, get out of my fucking house!”

            Lia threw the house key at him before returning to my side, seeking reassurance in my eyes. She wrapped an arm around my waist and together we made our way toward the door, stepping out into the sunlight, holding onto each other. 

            Back home, the adrenaline of the fight still pulsed through my veins as if refusing to let go. Lia moved with a sense of urgency, her movements almost automatic as she hurried to gather a first aid kit from the bathroom and tend to the split on my lip. I watched her, feeling a mixture of gratitude and frustration swirling within me. Gratitude because she was fine; she wasn’t hurt. Frustration because I still couldn’t erase the past, no matter how hard I had hit Mitch. 

            His words still echoed in my head, accusing every bruise on Lia’s skin as my fault. Maybe he was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have demanded her company so insistently or failed to accept her relationship to another man like the fucking I adult I was. 

            But I didn’t. 

            And now I had a split lip and a best friend grappling with the aftermath of an abusive relationship. 

            For a moment, rage threatened to boil over, and when Lia insisted on cleaning the wound for the third time after my dismissals, I snapped sharply at her. My voice came out as a harsh scream, causing her to flinch. Instantly regretting my outburst, I reached out to her.

            “I’m sorry…” I sighed. “I’m just… I should’ve done more.”

            “No,” she cut me off. “You shouldn’t have.”

            “Yes, I should’ve—!”

            “None of it was your fault. It doesn’t matter what he said.”

            We locked eyes and stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I didn’t even have to say it; Lia knew exactly what had been on my mind. 

            As I reached for her hand, gently stroking the back of it with my thumb, I asked her if she was hurt. She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes, and I felt a pang of guilt. 

            Sitting on the sofa, I lifted my head towards her, silently offering myself to her care.

            Lia raised my head with her fingers, and with her other hand, she clutched a piece of cotton damped with alcohol. Regardless of the stinging sensation, Lia’s touch was tender and delicate when she disinfected the cut. Despite the violence that had erupted just a while ago, she was able to be so sweet to me. As she cleaned the wound, silent tears began to fall from her eyes, and my heart ached at the sight of her pain materializing.

            I reached out to pull her into a hug, but Lia pulled away, refusing my comfort. Instead, she headed straight to the kitchen, discarding the blood-stained cotton in the bin and then opening the fridge, from where she retrieved a beer with trembling hands. I watched her, my heart heavy with concern, as she took a long swig from the can.

            “Lia,” I called out, but she didn’t respond. “Lia,” I pressed. “Come here, please.”

            Reluctantly, she came back and took a seat next to me, can still in her hands. I didn’t take it from her, but I made my disapproval clear.

            “You know that’s not the solution.”

            “I’m aware,” she replied, pretending to show that she didn’t care. 

            “Have you thought about what we talked? Going back to therapy? You haven’t called her, your therapist, have you?” 

            “Not yet,” she admitted with defeat, her head low, her eyes away from me. 

            “Why don’t you give it a try? You can always stop it if it doesn’t help or if you don’t feel comfortable. You can always talk to me, but I’m afraid I won’t be enough.” 

            At those words, she lifted her head to meet my gaze, her eyes telling me that I was wrong about myself. But successfully, she agreed to give therapy a chance and call for an appointment. 

            She lay her head on my shoulder. 

            I sighed softly, knowing that healing would take time, that the scars left behind by Mitch’s abuse ran deep. But in that moment, all I could do was hold Lia close, offering her the safety provided by my company. 

[canonizzyhours]

I wish we could, as a fandom, be more normal about how we treat people with character opinions that don’t line up with ours. I wish we could be better about walking away when we’re angry, acknowledging when our issues are getting the best of us, and recognizing that the people saying stupid shit are probably going through things too.

Let me elaborate with a story that’s too personal to relate off anon.

I hate Izzy. Have done since I watched season 1 back in 2022. I had an abusive father and my “friend” in college was abusive/sexually coercive, and even though I love the show, Izzy triggers the shit out of me because he’s reading from the same script as them. Season 2 was even worse when it looked like the show forgot how he behaved in season 1/his dehumanization of Ed/his continued lying. He was taken in by a crew that he never apologized to or tried to be good to, and it was SO similar to the way people in my life managed to make themselves blameless in the eyes of our communities. Even worse, it was like Izzy fans were coming out of the woodwork to gush over him and complain about how awful and abusive ED was!

I knew I couldn’t interact with people who thought Izzy was a faultless victim of Ed’s abuse without losing my mind or being a dick, so I didn’t. I still don’t. I block and ignore because that’s the best way for me to protect myself AND it’s the best way to avoid being the worst to Izzy fans. I bitch about Izzy to people who agree with me but I don’t go after the Canyon.

When I see absolutely shit takes that go on about Izzy being selfless and Good, Actually or blame all of the toxicity between Izzy and Ed on Ed alone, it’s tempting to make generalizations. It’s tempting to post baity responses along the lines of, “Anyone who thinks that Izzy’s not abusive lost the plot. I’m worried about them and the people around them. If they can’t tell that Izzy’s abusive, then they’re probably abusive themselves or AT LEAST trapped in an abusive situation.”

I don’t do that. I don’t know those people or their trauma. Maybe Ed reminds them of their abusers and they’re either not self-aware enough to realize that or just don’t care about how that could impact their view of the characters. Whatever their damage is, I’m only going to make the situation worse if I reply. Even if I reply in a tactful, thoughtful way, what’s the point in having a conversation? Odds are, we’re only going to end up ruining each other’s days.

I’m not perfect, but I’m trying. I wish we could all try to be more thoughtful about how we interact with and talk about the other people in this fandom. Maybe there’d be less hostility if we kept to our corners, avoided personal attacks, got in touch with the parts of ourselves that are still hurt, and recognized the potential hurt in others.

We should definitely keep talking shit about bad character interpretations though! That’s fun and sexy of us, I think.

#342.

[pommunist]

I don't wanna say this under my own name because I'm friends with too many Quackity fans, but god, everything about his actions just makes me think that what he cares about is just avoiding legal trouble and protecting his own public image

And maybe also about his friends to be fair

(I mean to his credit, I don't think he cares about money either)

He says he's doing all this for the viewers, but I guess that doesn't include the viewers who care about the French streamers or the French characters

And I don't see any hint of him genuinely caring about the workers. This is not how you treat someone you care about. He keeps implying that he can't talk to anyone because of "leaks" but what the fuck could be so bad about the "leaks" that it justifies this kind of disrespect? Why is this secrecy more important than the needs of the workers?

Nobody's asking him to reveal his biggest secrets to the workers, everyone is just asking for him to TALK to them at least, and hearing them out

He also says he can't talk because he doesn't want to make false promises, then just say that! Again, nobody asked him to promise them a job in the future, we just want him to be honest and respectful! Just tell them directly that you don't know yet and listen to their thoughts on the situation! Ask them how you can alleviate the inconvenience if it's within your means! Just talk to them like they're fellow adults who are capable of having a reasonable conversation! Because they are!

The union mentioned that some of the workers had basically been told by management that they should be grateful to be allowed to work for Quackity Studios and ngl, I wonder if this is not only the view of higher management but of Quackity himself too. That's the question I keep asking myself and not daring to say out loud: does he see the lower level workers as just fans who should be happy they were even allowed to participate at all?

- 🐧

First I never mind anonymous asks so no problem dont worry !

Second I tbh don’t want to assume what Q true intentions really are because heavy speculation isn’t productive and can lead to more stress in general. However I think that we can agree that he isn’t doing it all for the money, given that we’ve always known QSMP was never and problably even supposed to be a profitable thing (just the hosting and translation costs alone point to this).

That said, I do agree that everything that has been done up to this point and since Lea started to reveal things seems to be more damage control and trying to avoid legal issues than actually trying to be fair to the workers. This isn’t even speculation if you consider the sudden firing of Twitter admins and the silent towards all the other admins.

Obviously, when you’re a company or an individual you wanna avoid a lawsuit at all cost. It is a logical business move, morally I don’t agree with that mindset ofc, and I also feel like it’s a misunderstanding of the intentions of most of the admins.

I don’t know any of them personally but none of them, so far, have publicly said they wanted to take the legal route or even sue Qstudios. In fact, most if not all of them have expressed their love of the project and wished for it to continue with better working conditions. Some admins also said they didn’t care about getting paid, that volunteer work was fine if they had done it without the stress and pressure. Side note if it ever comes out that some admins want to take the legal route to make their rights be recognised and be compensated then my full support to them.

As if he is doing all this for preserving his image (i say IF) then what a terrible job he’s doing. I hope I’m making very clear that QSMP and Q’s image with french speakers fans (and non fans, and other French Ccs) is in literal ruins.

Also I feel like there was a genuine wish to add different cultures, I’m talking specifically about the French and BRs here, but an underestimating of the work it takes to actually merge people from different backgrounds and that it goes beyond just putting CCs from all over the world on minecraft with a translator. The fact that there was no FR, PT or KR speaking upper admin at all in the team baffles me to this day.

Worst thing is that we probably only know like a fraction of the overwork, miscommunication and intimidation that went on behind the scenes. Heart aches for all of those who went through it. All the love to them ♥️

[anoctoberpepper]

So a quick update: Over these next two months I’m going to be putting effort into original fiction so my AO3 posting will likely be slowing down. Disappearing off the face of the planet is pretty normal for me (I’m a chronic Discord ghoster 😭), but I will do my best to stay active here.

Please continue to hit me up with any of your favorite DnDads headcanons and ideas! I still definitely want to talk and write in this fandom! 

Sappy love under the cut. TL;DR I’m insane and you all have made me feel seen. 

So I’ve had a weird five years, the middle of which involved being hospitalized for the first (and god willing only) time, for mental health issues. I had a major depressive disorder that turned into a late in life diagnosis of “Schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type with mixed features” (I was actively delusional for 8 months, fun times). I have frilly diagnoses around that including generalized anxiety disorder, and an unspecified personality disorder. I say this because I don’t get to say it all that often. In my day-to-day life I have to keep that part of me tucked away so deep down that bringing it out to see the light of day hurts. Even though it’s a big part of how I relate to the world and it genuinely affects every day of my life. 

My closest friends barely understand my diagnosis. It’s hard to talk about. I either feel embarrassed or I’m worried that giving details will make people uncomfortable. Or maybe they’ll pity me, or worse they might not trust me anymore. Schizophrenia and Bipolar have hefty stigmas. So I don’t talk about it in any detail. 

But I need to talk about it. 

I was reading an original fiction piece I wrote before my diagnosis and realized that the main character, who was under the thrall of some violent magic at the time, was feeling exactly like how I would describe mixed mania now. It told me two things, 1) I was feeling horrible for a lot longer than I thought, and 2) I’ve been trying to describe it through my writing for just as long. 

I’ve written a lot over the last ten-ish years, and as all writers do I’ve tossed some of that writing into the void of agents' inboxes hoping for a bite. (I have received half a bite, one time). I write because I want to understand myself and because I love stories, but there’s something unique about having someone validate what you put on the page. Like “yeah. I get it, I feel that too.” 

I want to be able to yell my words to the world so someone will yell back. 

You all have yelled back. 

Genuinely and truly with all of my heart I could not have asked for a better gift this last year than having people feel seen by my writing.

I’m finally pulling my way back up from a really deep pile of crap and part of that journey was being able to write about Lark and Grant and Terry. Them learning to ask for what they need, and taking care of themselves and letting themselves be taken care of has taught me how to do it. 

I’ve found words to describe the mumbling voices I hear when I forget to take my meds, and the crawling-skin feeling of mania. I learned how to ask for things even if it’s as stupid as “can you walk to the kitchen with me so I don’t have to go through the process of making a bagel by myself.” Having characters take care of themselves has trained me to take care of myself. Utterly ridiculous, but absolutely profound. 

Another part of that journey I must mention is having people say, “yeah, that’s what it’s like for me too. I hear you. I see you. We’re in this together.” 

It is a gift I didn’t know I needed. People don’t usually talk about their mental health issues and when they do it’s generally not in a way I can relate to. I’m not really textbook anything, but I am some of everything. Being able to describe the pain of random mental health things and having other people say they’ve felt that way too has made me feel less alone. 

I don’t know how to end this rant, only that I would be remiss if I didn’t say I sincerely appreciated every comment and interaction I’ve had over the last year with you all. I feel comforted in a way I never thought I would. I feel joy in participating in this community, and a deep feeling of hope that things will keep getting better (and then worse and then better again). 

I love you all. Thank you for everything, and I hope to be back up posting as soon as I get some original fictioning done. 

(Or maybe I’ll get sick of trying to write my own stuff and I’ll be back here in a week. Who knows.) 

P.S. I’m still planning to work on Picking up the Pieces, it just might be slower than my usual pace

[uselessheretic]

sorry if this is out of left field, but i’ve been thinking abt it for a while…i would consider myself a passive izzy enjoyer and i am not at all an “izzy loved the toe cutting” person, /however/, I feel like you (the general you, not you specifically) can’t deny that he was happy about it after the fact? like the next day the “blackbeard is himself again” line he is definitely jazzed abt that and part of the demonstration that blackbeard is himself is the toe mutilation

also i’ve been wanting to ask more active izzy lovers/supporters, again i enjoy the man and am interested to see where his story goes but i will never ever forgive him for what he did to ed when he was trying to heal, is that something izzy stans don’t think about? don’t care about? take it as a given that everyone agrees was fucked up it so it just never gets brought up? sorry i’m not trying to put you in any specific group if you don’t want to be or assume where you stand but i enjoy reading your meta so was interested if you had any thoughts about it

i feel like a lot of it is up to interpretation! there's not generally one opinion held on things, and i've seen different ways people have read those scenes.

i know that i've seen quite a few people challenge the idea that izzy is "happy" when he does his "blackbeard is himself again" but it's really just how you read it. when you look at how he smiles there, it feels kinda? off?? forced. honestly, i don't think he's actually glad about it, but i also don't think izzy is aware that he's not. i feel like a lot of his emotions ep10 is very mixed up and muddy where he's largely acting from an emotional place while not even knowing what that place is. whether he's actually glad in the moment is something you can read multiple ways imo, but i do feel like even if read as "he's happy this happened" most izzy people would still be like "but that's not gonna last." what izzy thinks he wants isn't in line with what he actually wants, and i expect that to come to a head in s2 as izzy's forced to address the actual root of his issues surrounding ed.

as for the being cruel to ed when ed's sad, again, i just think that's up to the fan. one place izzy stans defs differ is that the majority of them don't view whatever ed was doing as healing. i think it's a mixed bag personally, where ed's first reaction to heartbreak of doing things like reaching out to lucius is good! but it's not perfect where he really comes off like the drunk girl crying in the bathroom when singing his song to the crew. it's definitely better than the fucking kraken though lol but even with ed's song you can see how his interpretation of lucius' "let go and be born again" goes a bit over his head and straight back into suicide ideation. the talent show and the crew's agreement towards it feels kinda like damage control, and another continuation of ed being avoidant to his actual issues. he never actually mentions stede during this time and the first time his name comes up is with izzy who's being an absolute cunt, but it evokes a strong reaction from ed. i don't think ed would be happy if anybody mentioned stede.

in general though, i feel like it is kinda taken as a given that izzy's actions were fucked up, but that it's not on the same level as the way people in fandom talk about it. izzy was being purposefully cruel. he was trying to hurt ed. there can be some reasoning behind it, about whether ed's behavior is threatening their lives or that izzy's acting out from feeling abandoned yadda yadda yadda, but it doesn't excuse it anymore so than it excuses ed's actions in retaliation.

the show is about imperfect people where characters like stede and ed in another show would be straight up villains. stede's literally a deadbeat dad who abandoned his family. if this story was from alma's pov we'd want him dead. ed made fang kill his dog! that on its own is almost always considered an irredeemable offense that automatically excludes a character from redemption, but it doesn't in ofmd. izzy's actions are bad, but they're no worse than stede or ed's. i feel like fans just take it as another continuation of how fucked up ed and izzy's relationship is where you can see the way that they escalate throughout the season dragging each other down deeper.

there's no need to justify it or defend it because why would there be? he fucked up and was a dick. for a lot of izzy stans, that doesn't exclude him from sympathy though. it's just adding flavor to the everything bagel of their cringefail marriage.

[kaycode1999]

can I get a match up for mha?

im a pretty hyper, blunt and expressive person. Im loud and usually kind of physically aggresive with my friends/famiky, as its my favorite way to be playful with those i love. Im a super spontaneous person, as my energy can be night and day depending on how im feeling. While im usually pretty open to new people and experiances, i can get overwhelmed very easily. When im angry im pretty snippy and short with others, ans need a moment to cool down before i have constructive converaation or rational thinking back. When im upset i very much shut down, and im not great with being emotionally vulnerable, but i am very aware of this fact and have been told im very emotionally mature with how i handle negative emotions as ive gotten better. While i can come off as ditzy, Im a very analytical person when it comes to the details around me, especially with people(my friends have teased me and called me sherlock with how scary i am with the little things i notice lol). I can be very sarcastic and arguementarive, to the point those around me think im trying to butt heads, however it comes from a genuine excitement towards combative discussion. I love methodical engagement, and can be quite short tempered when people arent capable of matching intellectual engagement for activities and conversation. I can be VERY stubborn as well, which(while bad in some social situations) is why im capable of pushing through very difficult tasks(have also been told that others find my “determination” inspiring as i handle pain well and enjoy pushing myself). In summary my greatest strengths are emotional intelligence, book smarts and my stubborness. My greatest weakneses are my lack of respect for myself, and my general insecurity.new

I do have diagnosed adhd, insomnia and anxiety issues if that helps with anything. Im also an entp in the myer briggs test if thats worth mentioning

im female, and go by she/her. Although honestly what people call me really doesnts bother me. As far as i know for my sexuality Im pan. Gender really doesnt matter to me i just find all people attractive.

my aestetic is all over the place tbh. Its always atleast nature relevant, but depending on the day i either look like a forest witch, a goblin, a hippy or a cottage core maidennew

for hobbies i love to draw and craft! Im a huge collector, and live for anything involving creative expression. Im also a part of a theatre group and love acting.

as for my type, i like people with a little more meat on their bones. Im usually pretty adaptive to all kinds of personalities, but im attracted to rmotional maturity and kindness. I love those who show empathy and aupport to others. (My long since crush has been fatgum lol)

for the love of everything in this world, please dont drag me into any of the todoroki family, i aint got time for that drama

Well you’re probably gonna be really happy because

I match you with

Fatgum

Hyper and expressive works well with him because he is generally an outgoing and expressive too

I don’t think he minds blunt, it’s more about honesty

As long as you’re honest with him he’ll respect it

He’s a big guy and loudish too so you have that in common

When he’s in his fat form he’s basically impossible to hurt so it doesn’t matter if you’re a little “ physically aggressive with him”

He loves a little spontaneity

He’s very in tune with your mood and energy level so he can tell your energy level/how you’re feeling

If you’re to the point where you’re getting angry/snippy or overwhelmed he completely understands the need to take a moment to calm down. Do that all you need to he’ll wait for you to take your time decompressing

He is very caring and sweet so he will help you with being emotionally vulnerable

He does think you handle negative emotions better as you continue to improve and will definitely commend you on your progress

Because he is big and more outspoken people tend to think he’s not as smart as he is so he definitely understands

He will never think of you as ditzy. He thinks you’re very smart and astute. He is also smarter than he lets on so he doesn’t want anyone to feel like they are not smart

I think he comes to understand that you are excited about discussion

I think he does find your ability to push through admirable

He definitely wants you to respect yourself and to be confident in yourself. He will compliment you all the time

Insomnia and anxiety are difficult to deal with and he wants to be there for you through it, he’ll also help you find some things to combat this no matter what that entails. If it’s alternative medicines, doctor’s appointments/medicine, therapy, etc. he’ll help you and be there through it all

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi mbti-notes, an INTP here. Lately I have encountered a situation which I couldn’t determine whether it is Ne indulgence and I lose track of my introverted functions or if there are other issues behind the surface. I think it would be better to receive some comment on it and I wish you could help.

I have been concentrating myself on academic results more than I used to, I think it is partly out of the urge to strive for a better future, another part of it is that I feel like I cannot fall behind my classmates as I don’t want to seem incompetent to the people around me. This idea grew stronger after my mother claimed that I would end up being a useless member of society because I didn’t have a “proper” attitude towards my academic results. I could be taking her words too seriously but I keep thinking I should prove her wrong. When there’s a task I could mimic an unhealthy ENTJ unconsciously and temporarily. I become hasty, impatient, judgemental, I overlook details so I can get thing done within the least possible amount of time, shut away the monologue I always have in my mind to focus on what I’m doing, disregard others’ opinion because I think my idea is the best. I read theories that a person could act like their shadow when they are stressful, it seems like what I experienced.

At the same time, I spent a lot of energy on socialising with my classmates. I enjoy it at some point, they are interesting people and I think I should pay more attention to them, but when I got time to reflect alone afterwards, I feel fatigued by all the social interactions. After I returned home, all that I am left with is tiredness and I don’t want to speak with anyone anymore, every single sound I hear could frustrate me even if they are simply words of care. I feel a need for rest, but when I do rest I binge watch repetitive Mary Sue stories that pop up on my social media feeds. I know they do not convey deeper meanings, but I am becoming addicted to these meaningless stories that do not require any true thoughts to process and I could shut down my mind.

I believed I maintained a good work-life balance, and this is a good way of life I should continue, but now as I took advice from my friend and spend time on long novels I could truly enter a flow state within, I think I actually overemphasised on external validation and failed to see what I really needed. Returning to the original question, it seemed like I was escaping reality with unhealthy Ne that keeps me wasting time on unproductive things, exploiting my energy to seek out ‘new’ information that are actually repetitive and superficial, forcing myself to open up Fe even when I actually wanted space for myself; but I am not entirely sure about my statement. Thanks for your time and effort, any insights that could be drawn from it are appreciated.

-----------------------

Generally speaking, if you believe you're experiencing Fe grip in part because of misusing Ne, then you ought to develop Ne and learn to use it more appropriately, consult the Type Dev Guide.

It seems you are always being pulled around by things outside you, such as your mother, your friends, or those mary sue stories. What does that mean? Perhaps it means you have little substance and you use those things as a poor substitute. You are like a leaf being blown around by the wind, with no control over where you go.

The remedy to being driven only by extrinsic factors is to nurture intrinsic motivation. Who are you really? What do you really want out of life? What are your values? What do you stand for? What do you have to offer? What about you matters? What greater aspirations or ideals do you commit yourself to? If you can't answer any of these questions, it means you haven't gotten very far in development and, as a result, don't have any meaningful direction or purpose in life. When you have no real identity as a person, how can you be anything but an easy victim of circumstance?

If you want to take more control over life and have a better sense of direction, then start by committing yourself to more meaningful activities, especially activities that would allow you to make the best use of the gifts you've been granted. Yes, there is a difference between "rest" and "escape". You speak as though you have no control over those repetitive activities, but you made the choice to do them, and you're now starting to realize that the "reward" is actually harmful to you. You could choose better activities instead. To realize more of your potential and grow as a person often involves giving up immediate gratification for a greater goal and making tough decisions about how best to spend your time.

[baycitystygian]

well I guess it’s about time I made an about post!

I’ve been on this website for like six years or so and I never really made a proper intro post to my blog, so here’s a couple basics for new friends & visitors just dropping by!

-heather williams, she/her, 25, neurodivergent as fuuuuuck but not officially diagnosed with specifics yet (although I’m almost certain I have autism, there’s a possibility I have ADHD or both? looking into a diagnosis, but definitely ND in general)

my sideblog for my current hyperfixation/crush/hall pass is @heather-willz and it is all Paul Williams all the timeeeee 💕this is not to subtract Paul posts from this blog but rather to add more Paul posts to this beautiful world that allowed this phenomenal composer to flourish (can you tell I’m delirious as I’m typing this)

-if you’re a minor and you like a post of mine, that’s cool- but I post whatever I feel like so be warned, I don’t censor myself and I do have a wide range in my sense of humor so there will probably be adult themes™️ on here so I don’t recommend sticking around- or do so but only at your own risk! I also don’t interact with minors and I’ve always listed my age just in case it matters to someone happening across my blog.

-I generally don’t tag often unless A) I’m talking in the tags or B) it’s a hyperfixation that I want to go back to/keep organized in tags on my blog, if you’re a mutual and there’s anything you’d like me to tag that you filter/blacklist please send me an anon in the ask box letting me know! I’m happy to tag anything that might be an issue but I don’t really know if anything specific is a sensitive topic to a mutual unless they tell me and you can absolutely stay anonymous about it- do not hesitate if there’s any way I can be a better moot ❤️

-big procrastinator and very sporadic on here (even though I generally use this app as my morning paper) so I can take awhile to get to asks & sometimes I forget altogether, sometimes I save them in drafts then forget to check my drafts & I’m very bad about that and I am SO sorry cause it’s genuinely never personal 😅same with messages but I’m not unfriendly, I just have raging executive dysfunction

-I block liberally over political reasons, TERFS are blocked on sight, any blog I happen across that’s said/reblogged something that might generally be upsetting to me and, of course, bots get blocked too- I don’t engage in discourse so if you’re a TERF, right winger, or just a general troll just keep moving along or block me cause I just go right for the block button anyway. any hate has no home here, UNLESS it’s hate for bigots or cops ✨

-I check blogs of people I follow but I don’t necessarily check OP’s so if I’ve accidentally reblogged something from a shitty person (“OP is a terf,” etc) just slide in the ask hole and let me know cause the odds are almost 100% that I’m unaware

-I am a continually broke ass bitch that feels guilty every time I see a donation post and I feel awful every time I don’t donate because I literally cannot keep my own shit together. As a result I generally don’t reblog donation posts or any call-to-action posts, partially also because my blog is really for my own entertainment and I use tumblr as a lighthearted escape from the world. which has become increasingly difficult as of late but I still want to keep my blog as just fun posts or anything I find useful. I do care, a lot in fact… but it’s complicated.

-I don’t post original posts terribly often, mostly just reblog anything that tickles my fancy but vintage fashion/shows/music and rocks are my big ones on here. most original posts are just top-of-my-head nonsense or stuff I’m hyperfixating on

-if you’re a fan of Paul Williams, Barenaked Ladies, Bucks Fizz, Bay City Rollers/Rabbitt, Flo & Eddie, Howard Jones, Bowling For Soup, Wings (the TV sitcom but I’m also a Paul McCartney & Wings encyclopedia if that’s more your speed), Phantom of the Paradise, or Caroline In The City, those are all recent-ish interests of mine that have almost NO fandom so like. you’re automatically my friend now if you like any of those 😂

…I think that about covers everything I wanted to say, so sit back, relax, and have fun in my hodgepodge of a social media home ✨

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Compromises

(This chapter, despite being shorter than some I’ve written before, was incredibly difficult. I struggle to remember dialogue between two characters, and I’m over here just chucking in characters to conversation like it’s Smash. No vore in this, mostly just talking, ranting, etc. with character interactions.)

Word Count: 6339

Unlike Mammon, Solomon wasn’t worried that I was going to slip and end up down the sink drain, so it took no convincing for me to be left to my own devices once I was placed on my bathroom counter. I could hear him and Belphie talk past the ajar door, but I couldn’t discern anything more than Belphie’s disgruntled tone. I didn’t really care anyways.

I spent a minute angrily muttering to myself while I tried to figure out how I was going to get in and out of the sink, deciding to just push my hairbrush so that the handle clattered to the bottom of it, creating a slope I could use to get back out to the counter.

“Kat? Are you okay,” Solomon called out from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” I shouted back, caught off guard by his shout. I guess it’d make sense for him to ask about any sudden noises given that I could probably trip off the counter if I was being risky near the edge. “Just moving stuff around!”

“Alright, just let me know if you need anything and give a shout when you’re done.”

“Can do!” I made sure that the hairbrush wouldn’t shift under my weight. And, once I was satisfied with it, I turned on the warm water to a pressure that wouldn’t have me battered under the stream of water. I spent several minutes using my citrus handsoap to scrub saliva off myself and my clothes, even though I had a fresh outfit on the counter. I didn’t really want to be touching drooly clothes in general.

During my pseudo-shower, I stewed in irritation and anger. I was a tad pissed off right now.

I felt a bit better by the end of it, sighing in relief as I turned off the water and got dressed in the clean, dry spare outfits that Lucifer had gotten me for my shrunken state. They didn’t fit exactly, but it was better than only wearing one change of clothes for who-knows how long. Slightly less stressed, I ran a hand through my hair to help it dry and called out, “I’m done, Solomon!”

“Coming.” Solomon’s voice preceded the sorcerer walking into the bathroom, his eyes taking a second to properly land on my spot on the bathroom counter. Walking up to the sink, he said, “I keep expecting you to be bigger.”

“Mm, sorry to disappoint,” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Apparently my flavor doesn't though. Is the bastard still here?”

“Belphie? Yeah, he’s been sitting on your bed while we waited for you to finish,” Solomon began to lower his hand to the edge of the counter, frowning when I flinched slightly. After a pause, he continued, flipping his hand over to offer his palm for me to climb into. “Do you want him out of your room?”

“Not yet,” I forced myself to climb into his hand, trying to ignore how hyperaware I was of his fingers. Sitting down so that I wouldn’t be struggling for balance, I began to feel the heat of anger bubble up again. “I want to give him a piece of my mind real quick.”

“Fair enough.” Solomon walked back to my main room, flicking off the bathroom light behind him as he closed the door. Like he’d said, Belphie was still sitting on my bed, arms crossed over his chest as we approached. He already looked like he’d gotten some kind of talking to from Solomon if his drooped ears were any indication. Surprisingly, the demon was the one that spoke first.

“Sorry, Kat,” Belphie said quietly, reluctantly. The kind of apology given when your parent tells you to apologize for something stupid that you don’t want to apologize for. “I shouldn’t have eaten you…”

I blinked a bit in surprise. Honestly, this was more than I was expecting given his track record of stubbornness issues. That didn’t temper my ire though.

“‘You shouldn’t have eaten me’?...” I repeated quietly, almost in disbelief, a million thoughts racing through my head. Narrowing my eyes, my ears flattening and the fur on my tail bristling was the only indication before I shouted angrily, “You knew you shouldn’t have eaten me! That’s the whole fucking problem! You were in full control of yourself and you willfully ate me!”

“You were fine! I used the stupid protection spell,” Belphie retorted, looking far more uncomfortable than under any yelling from Lucifer that I’d seen.

I felt Solomon’s hand twitch beneath me as I stiffened at the demon’s response, now understanding the phrase ‘seeing red’.

“STUPID?!” I leapt to my feet, ignoring the surprised noise from Solomon as I did so. Feeling like I wanted to throw something, I stomped an angry circle on the sorcerer’s palm, exclaiming, “Pinche pendejo cabrón!”

Whirling back around to face Belphie after a second of pissed off pacing, I pointed towards him. “If anything’s stupid right now, it’s you! Without that ‘stupid’ protection spell, I could have been injured or died! Or did you already forget the fact that I came out of Beel yesterday with my skin inflamed? If it wasn’t for Solomon’s protection charm, I would have had proper burns, and I wasn’t even inside of him for an hour!

“Not only did you eat me of your own volition, ignoring my concerns about it several times with blatant disregard,” I raised two fingers as I began to count his bullshit, quickly reaching a full hand. “You probably almost bit me by talking with me in your cheek, rolled over to lay on me once I was inside, and fell asleep! Did you know that I wasn’t going to crushed by that? Your entire fucking body weight on top of me? Or did you not think about it? Were you just cool with the possibility of me being hurt or killed? Again.”

Belphie’s ears were flat against his head at this point and his gaze averted. The demon opened his mouth, but I interrupted him before he could try to respond or justify himself.

“KSST!” I hissed through my teeth angrily, the sound a mix between mimicking a spray bottle and a hiss, snapping my fingers once along with the noise. A habit of cat ownership to catch a naughty feline’s attention. “I don’t want to hear it! The amount of selfish nerve you’ve shown today doesn’t deserve an explanation! You’re fucking lucky that nothing bad happened, and that Solomon was supposed to show up today to take a look at the protection charm. Now, give Solomon my phone.”

Belphie hesitated a moment before reaching for my device that he’d tossed earlier on the bed, holding it out to Solomon who leaned over for a second to grab it with his free hand.

Not taking my eyes off of Belphie, I crossed my arms over my chest and straightened. “Solomon, call Lucifer.”

“You know he won’t go easy on him,” Solomon said, aware of the complicated relationship between the two after the whole trapping Belphie in the attic situation when I first got here.

“Good,” I snarled, earning me the sight of Belphie’s ears flattening further.

There was a tense few seconds of silence as Solomon presumably called Lucifer, both of them knowing that I never called Lucifer unless I was truly pissed off. There was the sound of ringing from my phone behind me before it stopped.

“Kat? Is something wrong?” Lucifer asked in concern. “You usually text if you need something.”

I gestured for Solomon to bring the phone closer to me without taking my glare off the demon on my bed, seeing the side of my phone in my peripherals after a moment. Narrowing my eyes at Belphie, I asked, “Do you happen to know where Belphegor is right now?”

There was a second of silence. My tone made it obvious that this was a rhetorical question and I knew exactly where the demon in question was, something Lucifer picked up on very quickly. And wasn’t happy about.

“I’ll be right there,” Lucifer growled in a way that would have a shudder running down my spine if I wasn’t angry.

A click as he hung up and I mentally counted down from five.

“BELPHEGOR.” Lucifer’s voice rang out in my room as the Avatar of Pride appeared in a puff of black smoke in my room, more curling around his shoulders as he restrained from his demon form. He seemed to do a double-take when seeing the sorcerer holding me though, anger turning into surprise and confusion. “Solomon?”

“Lucifer,” Solomon greeted the demon chipperly.

“Look, I’ll explain Solomon later,” I spoke up before anyone else could. Lucifers gaze turned to me immediately, concern falling to relief as he glanced me over. And confusion, confusion that I was happy to dissipate by clarifying the situation. Gesturing to Belphie on my bed, I said, “Someone decided that it’d be oh so very funny to skip classes for the day and eat me.”

Lucifer’s expression quickly darkened, glancing between all three of us as he briefly thought over the situation, turning to face the youngest demon. With barely restrained anger, he asked, “Belphegor? Is that true?”

He didn’t doubt me based on his tone. He just wanted an admission from Belphie. Who, to his credit, didn’t even try lying to Lucifer’s face.

“Yeah, I ate them- OW OW OW!” Belphie yelped as Lucifer quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed his earlobe.

“MY OFFICE. NOW,” Lucifer said firmly, now in full demon mode. The mix of horns and wings with his tail and ears was an odd sight, but it didn’t make him any less dangerous as he began to yank Belphie out of my room by his fox ears.

“You don’t have to grab my ear!”

The sound of Belphie’s protests and Lucifer’s angry hissing faded as Lucifer dragged the other demon down the hall.

I sighed once everything was silent, shoulder slumping tiredly as I pinched the bridge of my nose, my other hand lowering to rest on my hip. I could feel my tail continue to flick back and forth but I couldn’t be bothered trying to stop it.

“Are you okay?” Solomon’s question caught my attention, an ear tilting towards him before I turned around to face him.

“No, Solomon, I’m not,” I replied. Taking a deep breath to try and keep my emotions in check as I came off the adrenaline high from yelling at Belphie. “It’s been a rough week. If you’re able to take a look at the bracelet, I can tell you all about it.”

“Sure, let me put you down first,” he nodded, taking a step towards the bed before I stopped him.

“Oh, we can use the table,” I suggested, gesturing to the table I doubled as a desk. “That way you don’t have to sit on the floor or whatever while looking at it.”

“Good point,” Solomon said in approval, turning to walk to the table. He lowered his hand for me to hop off of, and when I did he gestured in the air, summoning something akin to jeweler’s glasses with several magnifying lenses on the side. Putting them on, he instructed, “Alright, take a seat and hold out your arm.”

I did as told and Solomon leaned forward. Using an index finger to help prop up my wrist, he flicked down a couple of the magnifying lenses to get a better look at it. This was claustrophobic in a whole new way, but I pushed the feeling aside.

“Alright,” the sorcerer produced a pair of precision tweezers, the kind that ended in an L-shape. He began to tap the metal of my bracelet gently and turn it on my wrist while continuing, “So, what happened? I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry, not for a while at least, and you mentioned Mammon and Beel earlier.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” I rubbed my face tiredly with my free hand for a moment, absentmindedly watching him twist my bracelet to look it over as I explained. “Mammon decided it’d be a great idea to try and prank you guys for turning the brothers into half-animals, even though it wasn’t on purpose. He told me his plan, showed me the vial, and we got into a scuffle that ended up with the vial breaking and spilling on me. Since it was supposed to affect humans and angels, I got turned into this.”

I spent the next half hour filling Solomon in on the last few days, from Lucifer, Mammon and I not telling the others about Mammon losing his instincts and eating me to the ball being dropped yesterday when Beel also ate me. And, starting to talk about today, I began to feel it reignite my anger.

“And then, as I start trying to tell him how dangerous it is, he fucking brushes off all of my concerns,” I exclaim angrily, hands gesturing at my outburst. “Like, the sheer fucking audacity to just tell me to calm down!”

“If you keep moving your wrist, I’m never going to be able to find the issue,” Solomon gently scolded, glancing from my wrist to me. It almost looked comical with the magnifying glasses making his eye look bigger.

“Right, sorry,” I sighed, reigning in my emotions and placing my wrist back on his index finger. Realizing I’d just sort of vented about the last few days, I said, “Thanks again for coming… Sorry you got caught up in all this and got stuck listening to me rant.”

“It’s fine. I just wish you or Lucifer had told me about this sooner. I would have tried to take into account your new size,” Solomon said, resuming his work on the bracelet. “I’m glad I came when I did though, because you might have ended up inside of Belphie all day otherwise.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not think about the alternatives,” I huffed and closed my eyes tiredly for a few seconds, exhausted at the thought. My ears twitched a second before I realized I could hear distant footsteps getting closer past the wall, opening my eyes and looking towards the door right before it opened and Lucifer walked in. A bit nervous now that my anger was gone for the time-being and I hadn’t told him about Solomon before this, I hesitantly greeted, “Hey, Lucifer.”

“Kat, Solomon,” the demon nodded to the sorcerer as the man glanced up for a moment. Lucifer walked up to the table and hovered behind Solomon’s shoulder to watch.

“I was just updating Solomon about the last few days,” I informed him, expecting him to berate me for not letting him know about Solomon’s visit. But, he didn’t. Whether it was because I obviously called the other human to take a look at the bracelet or because I’d just been eaten again, I wasn’t sure.

“Are you alright,” Lucifer ignored my statement in favor of asking about my wellbeing, brow furrowing a bit in concern.

“I’m fine,” I huffed and nodded, not missing the brief glance Solomon threw my way. “I feel better after yelling at Belphie. I just need time to process it, that’s all.”

I already felt a bit embarrassed about ranting to Solomon today, I didn’t really feel like more heart to hearts right now. Not to mention, I was starting to feel really fucking hurt by Belphie’s actions without the distraction of being pissed off. I definitely felt a lot more betrayed than with Mammon or Beel since they didn’t do it on purpose. But, trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling, I asked, “Where’s Belphie?”

“In my office,” Lucifer’s expression darkened at the mention of the other demon. “Where he’ll remain until the others get home from classes. I’m sure they’ll all have something to say about his rash and dangerous behavior. Has there been any progress on your charm?”

“You’d have to ask Solomon,” I nodded toward the other human, who hummed for a second at being mentioned.

“What about me?” Solomon asked, still twisting my bracelet carefully around my wrist.

“Lucifer wants to know if there’s been any progress.”

“Ah.” The sorcerer blinked a bit as he pulled his attention from my wrist. Retracting his index finger and tweezers, he reached up and pushed the jeweler's glasses from his eyes to rest in his hair. “Unfortunately, no, not really. The charms I had used were intricate, and Kat’s current size is making it difficult to get a good look at any of them.”

“So, you don’t know why I can’t take it off,” I asked, fiddling with the clasp a bit absentmindedly despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything.

“Or why the protections don’t work fully?” Lucifer added, crossing his arms over his chest with a displeased frown.

“Well, I have an idea of what caused both of those,” Solomon shifted in his seat to look at Lucifer a bit more, trying to face both the demon and I from his chair. Crossing an arm over his chest, he held a hand to his chin thoughtfully and continued, “I wasn’t expecting the bracelet to reach such a small size, so I took no precautions against the spells compressing. And, with how quickly it’s meant to resize in case Kat decides for some reason to only put it on in emergencies, the rapid compression likely fractured a few spells.”

“You can fracture spells,” I blinked in surprise. I knew you could outright break them, or weaken, but fracture was new.

“Yes,” the sorcerer nodded. “The spells are still there, they retain their original potency if I’m sensing them right, but because the pieces are cracked and fractured, the protection isn’t complete.”

“Can you fix them,” Lucifer’s frown deepened, gesturing towards me with a black gloved hand. “Given the events of this week so far, I worry for Kat’s safety without a permanent charm on them.”

Solomon leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Not right now. Not at its current size. I need to unclasp it or break it free to let it return to normal size so I can fix it and recharm it. In the meantime, I suggest Kat stays at Purgatory Hall until they can be returned to normal.”

“Unacceptable,” Lucifer immediately replied, shaking his head as a frustrated growl left his throat and sent a shiver down my spine. “With Mammon’s tomfoolery, returning them to normal will take even longer than it’s been for us. Besides, I don’t want to drag anyone else into this nonsense.”

“It might be best to at least tell the others and Diavolo,” I suggested, gaining the attention of both men. Lucifer already looked like he was about to disagree, but I added, “They’re not going to believe I’m sick much longer, and if they do then they’ll think it’s something life-threatening. They’ll probably try to break into the manor if it comes to that for a surprise visit, and it’ll be less of a shock if we tell them compared to if they just come across me being tiny.”

“They’re not wrong. I’ve had to prevent SImeon and Luke from coming over to check on them because I didn’t want to make whatever sickness it was worse before I found out they weren’t sick,” Solomon confirmed with a nod. “I’m sure everyone will be relieved, even if they’re not happy about being lied to.”

There was a period of silence as Lucifer narrowed his eyes, eventually sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll inform Diavolo that I need to speak with him and the angels urgently then. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to let us use the council room to be discreet.”

Frowning in confusion, I asked, “Why not just tell them to meet here?”

“If I suggest meeting here, at least one of them is going to try and sneak in a quick visit before seeing me.”

“Point taken,” I replied, starting to realize how brash my entire friend group could be. “Can I see them afterwards though?”

Lucifer's expression became conflicted, obviously wanting to decline. But, before he could answer, Solomon spoke up.

“You know, Lucifer, keeping Kat isolated from everyone isn’t going to help in the long run. You said it yourself, we don’t know how long it’ll take until any of you are back to normal. It’s not fair to Kat to not let them see anyone,” Solomon said, glancing back at me.

I definitely appreciated the backup. Lucifer wasn’t exactly the demon I spoke up against the most, and being small with rodent instincts didn’t help.

“I suppose you’re right,” the demon huffed, concern etched all over his face still. Looking at me, he stated, “I can’t deny you visitation from Lord Diavolo, SImeon, and Luke once I’ve informed them of the situation. I’d like them to not stick around too long, however. Mostly because I think it’ll be overwhelming for you to have multiple of us towering in your room.”

Nodding in agreement, I said, "Probably. But, it'll be nice to see them after days holed up in here. As much as I like the break, I feel like I'll get stir-crazy by the end of the week."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to see you as well, and more than a little relieved… Perhaps a bit worried in a different sense, as well." Lucifer looked like he wasn’t looking forward to informing the others and I could only imagine the potential questions they’d bombard him with.

“I don’t just mean Diavolo, Barbatos, and the angels,” Solomon interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest while Lucifer and I both gave him looks of surprise. Raising an eyebrow, the human added, “The other brothers and Kat should also still be able to coexist and hang out with each other when they want.”

“Solomon, I’ve been eaten three separate occasions, and it’s not even the end of the week,” I held up three fingers to emphasize my point. As much as I loved the brothers, being around most of them right now felt dangerous.

“True. I can’t really deny that fact. But, when the brothers first turned into their more animal selves, they also wanted to eat you at the start, right,” Solomon asked, glancing between Lucifer and I as though to see if either of us would deny that. Which, we couldn’t. I’d spent most of that afternoon trying to avoid being bitten. Mostly by the ever-hungry Beel.

“Yeaaaah?” I hesitantly replied, narrowing my eyes skeptically.

“Where are you going with this, Solomon,” Lucifer also seemed unhappy with the potential implications from Solomon's question, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Where I’m going with this is that you and the rest of the demon brothers managed to restrain your instincts after a few hours, and it probably got easier as time went on,” the sorcerer said, gesturing to me. “It seems like Kat being affected by the vial reset some of that progress given their new size, but keeping them away from the others like this just means that none of you are getting used to the returned strength of your instincts again.

“Short of keeping them locked away for who knows how long, which we’ve agreed isn’t the best course of action, trying to get the brothers used to being around Kat again is the best way to diminish some of the danger.”

My face was pulled into a grimace at Solomon’s suggestion, ears flattened nervously as I struggled to even think of what to say to that. I couldn’t really think of how to disagree with anything other than my own feelings of apprehension and betrayal, eventually breaking the couple seconds of tense silence, “Solomon… I know you think you have my best interests in mind, but-.”

“I agree,” Lucifer interrupted me, catching me off guard with his agreement.

“Wha- Lucifer?!” I exclaimed, looking at the demon. He looked none too happy with siding with Solomon, seeming like he downright despised it as he blinked in surprise at my shout.

Letting out a heavy sigh that sounded like a borderline growl, the Avatar of Pride reluctantly repeated, “I agree. Unfortunately. If we keep you away from my brothers, not only will they never strengthen their control of their instincts, but it’ll regress their restraint and discipline without you around. It increases the chance of incidents sharply when one of them inevitably tries to visit and check up on you.”

“I-eh-gah,” I struggled to think of a good response, becoming more frustrated before eventually groaning and burying my face in my hands for a second. Looking back up at the demon, I said, “Fiiiine. But not fucking today. I think I’ve had enough potential for ‘incidents’ to last me a month.”

“Don’t worry,” Lucifer chuckled bitterly. “You won’t have to worry about it today or even tomorrow, but we will have to figure out how to reintegrate you with the household again. Especially since I doubt you want to remain marooned on your comforter.”

When I didn’t muster up any arguments, he turned and walked to my bedroom door, leaving and adding over his shoulder, “I’ll inform Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Luke about the urgent meeting and head to the council room.”

“Have fun,” Solomon said in amusement as Lucifer left before turning in his chair to address me again. “I’m sure you and the brothers will be able to return to some semblance of normalcy.”

“We’ll see,” I replied, leaning back on my palms with a sigh. “If they keep eating me, I find that hard to believe. I was kind of enjoying the slower pace of everything, but then Beel ate me yesterday and Belphie today. I got two days of reprieve since being small and three days of havoc.”

“All the more reason to move ahead with slowly reintegrating you with the rest of the manor,” he reached his hand down towards me, holding his index finger for me to put my wrist back on.

“Ugh, I guess you and Lucifer are right… Still not happy about it right now,” I huffed, sitting up and extending my wrist to place back onto the tip of his finger as he leaned forward, flicking the jeweler’s glasses back down over his eyes and touching the metal on my wrist with the tweezers again. It was still a weird look.

“Understandable, given the week. Now, as for your bracelet we’ve got two options. I can spend however long it takes to meticulously try and figure out the spells as the bracelet is now. Or, I can carefully cut as close to the clasp as possible to take it off and let it resize,” Solomon said, glancing at me. “Of course, that requires damaging the bracelet, so I’ll leave the decision up to you.”

“Well, I don’t wanna make you work on this more than you have to, so I’m fine with cutting it,” I said, though I was a bit sad to know that the cool dragon bracelet would be damaged, even if it was for my well being.

The sorcerer chuckled, withdrawing the tweezers. With a flick of his wrist, they were replaced by a pair of small wirecutters and he began to lower them towards the bracelet. I stiffened given that they were sharp and each blade was a lot larger than my hand. “Don’t be too bummed about it, I’ll fix it once it’s back to normal size.”

With a clean, careful snip the wirecutter bit through the metal of the bracelet, causing it to fall from my wrist to Solomon’s fingertip. He pulled his finger away and pinched the tiny piece of metal between his forefinger and thumb, dissipating the wirecutters and pushing his jeweler’s glasses up.

“How long will it take to go back to normal size,” I asked, watching him carefully place the metal on the table away from both of us.

“Well, at least a couple hours, but I might have to tweak the spells on the bracelet about that so it resizes within an hour,” Solomon replied, leaning back. “I’d taken the protection spells more into account than the sizing and clasp because of how many troublesome situations you tend to end up in.”

“Oof, that’s a while. I appreciate you hanging around though. While we’re waiting, maybe you could update me on what’s been going on with you and the angels at R.A.D,” I suggested.

He nodded, and didn’t hesitate to spend the next hour or so recounting how Simeon and Luke had been so incredibly concerned about finding out I was ‘sick’ that he had to keep Luke from marching into the House of Lamentation to bake me some Get Well treats immediately while Simeon had wanted to come over to see if he could do anything. I’m glad Solomon had kept them reined in.

As Solomon and I talked, I definitely began to feel a lot better and less stressed, finding that it certainly seemed a lot easier to make me anxious. I became so relaxed, in fact, that I completely forgot about Lucifer’s meeting until I felt my ear twitch and realized I could hear the sound of distant footsteps rapidly approaching.

“KAT!” my bedroom door flung open, causing me to reel back in alarm and freeze as Luke burst into the room, followed almost immediately after by Simeon.

“Luke, if you keep shouting, you’re going to scare them,” the older angel chastised, though it was obvious he was also feeling a bit frazzled.

“Too late,” Solomon spoke up in amusement as I reached up to place a hand on my chest and tried to calm my racing heart from the surprise. He gave a small wave to further get the angel duo’s attention, both Luke and Simeon blinking at the sight of the sorcerer. Of course, given my proximity to him on the table, both angels also saw me.

Once Luke’s eyes fell onto me on the table, he gasped and practically rushed over, the quick movement causing me to stiffen on instinct. “Kat! Oh my goodness! Lucifer told us that you were small, but I wasn’t expecting this!”

“Solomon? I wasn’t expecting you here,” Simeon walked further into my room to stand beside the man in question, something I barely registered over Luke’s fussing.

“I can’t believe Mammon did this to you, I don’t even know where he found a version of the syrup that affects humans! Of all the brothers, I’ve always said he’s the worst, and this proves it!” The younger angel exclaimed, adamant that Mammon had done this on purpose apparently.

As Luke continued an almost angry tirade, I tried to catch his attention, finding myself overwhelmed by his voice and rather large motions. “Luke, it wasn’t really on pu-.”

“-of all the irresponsible things to be expected, I never would have thought this would happen,” Luke huffed, too caught up in his frustration to realize I was trying to interrupt him. I didn’t think I could bring myself to push past the sensory overload to do much more than endure his angry shouting, ears pressed back as though it would help enough. “At this size, you’re in even more danger around the demons! Beel could even snatch you up, or-or-!”

“Luke, you’re stressing Kat out a bit much, don’t you think?” Simeon asked, drawing both the other angel's attention and mine. Giving me a small apologetic smile, he added, “He’s just been concerned about you since Lucifer told us what happened. Ran out of the council room before I could stop him, so I had to come after him to try and make sure he didn’t overwhelm you too much.”

“W-Well, I appreciate the concern,” I said nervously, trying to give a polite smile back. “Though, uh, what did Lucifer tell you?”

“That Mammon got ahold of some substance that mimicked the syrup that turned the brothers into animals and have been shrunk for the last five days, which is why you haven’t been at the academy,” Simeon replied, seemingly a bit surprised at my question, frowning a bit. “Why?”

“Oh, gosh, Kat, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize!” Luke practically burst out his apology, still a bit too loud and causing me to wince. “Are you okay?! I’m not too loud, am I?”

“I could hear you from the entryway, so I’d say you’re a lot louder than you need to be,” Lucifer’s voice cut in from my doorway.

With everyone looking towards the voice, I could see Lucifer walk in and stand by the door a second before Lord Diavolo and Barbatos entered together. Of course, their attention was drawn to the table since the two angels and Solomon were right there and I felt a similar overwhelming feeling to the first house meeting when I was presented to the other brothers about my condition.

“My, it’s almost like a party in here,” Diavolo said in amusement.

“D-Diavolo! Barbatos! Howdy… What’s up,” I greeted, attempting to be casual like I wasn’t surrounded by six towering figures in my room.

“Mammon shrinking you, apparently,” the demon lord replied, walking up to the table to stand beside Simeon and making the room feel a bit more cramped despite my small stature. With a frown, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed in exasperation. “I wish we could have been informed earlier, but I already gave Lucifer an earful on the way over here. I had to remind him that no matter how busy I am, I’m always willing to make time for you or the brothers, especially in unique circumstances like this.”

“Alas, I told the Lord that reminding Lucifer of that was like reminding a brick wall to fly,” Barbatos chimed in light-heartedly, ever the shadow to Diavolo.

“Some matters don’t require the attention of the Prince of the Devildom,” Lucifer sighed from where he stood by the door to observe, ears lowering in slight annoyance.

“Regardless, I’m pleased to find out that you weren’t sick and have been unharmed despite the odd circumstances,” Diavolo smiled warmly, even as his eyes glanced me over. “You are smaller than I was expecting, but I suppose it’s hard to picture just how small a person can get.”

“Luke practically said the same thing when he ran in,” Solomon chuckled, leaning over to check the progress of the bracelet. It was a lot larger than before, about twice my height in length. Not its original size, but better than the microscopic size it had been before.

Luke almost flushed with embarrassment, saying, “I was concerned! The statement slipped out of my mouth before I could think. What are you messing with anyways?”

“A protection charm for Kat,” Solomon replied, picking up the bracelet and slipping it into his pocket. “Lucifer asked me to make one given the circumstances, and I couldn’t say no. Unfortunately, it has a few kinks to work out for the time being, so I have to take it back to fix it.”

“That’ll definitely come in handy whenever the next adventure comes along,” Simeon said playfully and looked at Lucifer. “Once you’re all back to normal, it’s only a matter of time until the next hijinks.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that,” I sighed tiredly, though I felt like the next situation wouldn’t exactly wait until after I was back to my regular size. “Has there been any luck on getting the antidote for the brothers?”

“No!” Luke exclaimed angrily, earning him a small touch on his shoulder from Simeon to remind him to keep it down. Huffing, he added, “Even Micheal’s having a difficult time finding the stuff. He said it might be another week…”

“That doesn’t even bring into account Kat’s situation,” Diavolo added thoughtfully, bringing a hand to his chin as he mulled things over. “I’ll have to ask Mammon where he even got the original vial. If we can get ahold of one, we should hopefully be able to reverse the effects. That may also take some time though.”

“Yes, well these matters can wait for a different time,” Lucifer interrupted, approaching the table and putting his hands on his hips. “I believe that’s been enough visiting for one day. I’m sure Kat’s overwhelmed by all of us in the room.”

“That’s right. You also have new instincts now, don’t you,” Simeon asked, looking at me with a bit more concern while Luke gave a disappointed “Awwww” in the background. “Those haven’t been difficult, have they?”

“Well, I’m not a carnivore, so it’s not like I wanna eat anyone,” I answered, skirting around the fact that interacting with all of them has been the second most tiring thing today.

“Alright, enough questions,” Lucifer reiterated, extending his arms to start shepherding everyone out of the room, causing Solomon to stand up from his seat. “There’ll be plenty of time for them to be answered.”

Everyone, including Diavolo, relented and let themselves be instructed out of the room, each shouting back their own farewell and telling me to let any one them know if I need anything. Of course, I chuckled and said that I would, giving them farewell waves.

“I’ll be back in a little bit, okay Kat?” Lucifer asked once he reached the door, everyone outside.

“No problem,” I replied. “I’ll be here.”

The demon was quiet for a second before nodding and leaving, closing my door behind him. And once everyone became muffled by my door, the sounds slowly fading to the background, I let out a loud groan and flopped backwards to lay on the hard wood surface of the table. I didn’t even know what time it was, but the other brothers weren’t here yet, otherwise Lucifer would say that he was going to talk to them. Which means it wasn’t even the end of classes.

I sighed, wondering how the brothers, other than Lucifer, would react to Belphie’s behavior. |< || < || >

[axelars]

It’s kinda annoying because my (actual) diagnoses came during this “fad” of being traumatized and neurodivergent. So I feel like I annoy everyone when I talk about mine and that they don’t believe me/think I’m just looking for excuses/attention.

This is my story. Human names have been changed.

I am diagnosed Bipolar 2, ADHD, and Autistic.

I went my whole life undiagnosed of what was actually the reasons behind every single struggle I had, and there were, and continue to be ALOT. I talk about it so much because it’s a relief to understand myself now and to validate my experiences and start to heal and move forward. Since as long as I can remember, I felt out of place. Always a step behind everyone else and like I didn’t really belong anywhere. I was painfully shy. Speaking to people terrified me. I had frequent meltdowns and sensory issues that were brushed off as temper tantrums and being sensitive.

But I had friends. I had large friend groups I was a “part” of. I participated in team sports and dance. I maintained okay grades in school. I didn’t scream or meltdown in public. I didn’t stim or avoid eye contact (lol yes I did but had already learned to force it and my stims have always been low key). I didn’t have any “learning disabilities”.

Now I know the reason behind this is autism but it didn’t look the same as what everything knew it as, and girls especially learn to mask very fast and at a young age. And I did have learning disabilities. Auditory processing disorder is one. I mean I guess autism and adhd are learning disorders in themselves, but I don’t like calling them that. We just connect things differently and therefore learn, understand, and do things differently. But we’ve been told our whole lives we’re doing it wrong. We’re doing life wrong. But it becomes our normal so we think everyone feels like this.

Fast forward to high school. I’ve turned dark. My parents went through a really messy and toxic and abusive divorce when I was around 12. I’m 13/14 and I’m starting drinking, and smoke weed. This progresses to drinking heavily and often, and taking various pills. I’m diagnosed with major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder at 15. Medicated and things get better. I finish high school (still partying alot), go to University and do alright and kinda just party my way through it. I got off my meds cause I’m cured! Around 25 or so I start having panic attacks. I can’t leave my house. I go back on meds but as always am still apathetic about life. Panic attacks dissipate and I learn how to manage them when they do happen. Things are pretty good. I get my degree in geology, meet my then partner, John, get my masters degree and then a job. We have 2 dogs, one we got together and one I had previously, and 2 cats. It’s good for a bit and then I get bored and stop caring.

And then Covid hits. All routine and structure and societal need to socialize disappears. At first it was awesome. I could sleep in and working from home was nice. But then I got bored and started caring less and less about my work. I couldn’t focus, keep track of time or even days gone by, was experiencing executive dysfunction, sensory issues got worse, and much more. I now know this is ADHD and Autistic burnout.

I’m diagnosed with ADHD and do a bunch of medication trials. Nothing works. It makes me more apathetic and I don’t give a single fuck about anything at all. Even the one thing that brings me joy which is dog training. I realize my childhood was really abusive and traumatizing and I’d been normalizing it. So I start trying to heal from that.

My partner at the time was the only thing keeping me afloat (love you John) but it also took a huge toll on our relationship. We moved to the Yukon. I switched to a new company. I became even more depressed and move back to Alberta without him. I take all of the animals (2 cats and 2 dogs) because he’s on shift work. He gets super depressed without his Emma (dog) and finds a way to not be on shift work anymore so he can take care of her. So I send her back to him because they really did have the best bond, and she was born to be a wilderness dog. But this was heartbreaking for me. I get involved in an extremely emotionally abusive and manipulating and as I later find out, dangerous situationship. I’d known him for over a decade so I could trust him right? Dead fucking wrong but we will get into that later. John is still my best friend. I get a border collie puppy and she’s amazing. He gets involved in a relationship (also abusive) and cuts off communication with me. I finally get diagnosed bipolar 2 and and medicated for it. I learn my first manic episode was at age 19 when I decided to go to New Zealand for 2 months out of nowhere. I hate travelling. I barely remember the experience and I wasn’t drinking or doing drugs.

John gets himself out and we are best friends again. I couldn’t do life at this point without him.

Things are starting to make sense and get easier. I’m able to regulate my emotions better. I get myself out of that abusive situationship. I completely change careers and leave geology and the security along with it (it’s the best decision I’ve ever made). This change brings new meaning and purpose and joy to my life, but it also ends a years long friendship and my dog training community and support system.

Then my soul dog, Ernie, and the reason I’m a dog trainer gets bone cancer and dies. I reconnect with my previous friends from the training community (silver linings?).

My mom gets cancer which has spread and needs chemo. She’s starting her third set of treatments this week. The doctors are optimistic but she never tells us the whole truth about scary things. I’m scared but trying to be positive.

Then I find out the real truth about my situation-ship. Him and his friend have allegations of sexually assaulting women together. At least one his friend was charged for but they got dropped when she could no longer afford it. Our justice system sucks. Like how is that fucking possible. I learn of other attempted assaults or close call and just overall inappropriate disgusting behaviour. I learn of the other women. I speak to them and even befriend one. I learn he told us all the same stories that “he’s never shared with anyone before”, cooks the same meals, makes the same jokes, literally all the same things. This guy has zero conscience or personality and genuinely believes he is a good guy. He would always talk about what a good guy he is 🙄. Well he had me fooled and a trail of traumatized women before me. I learn he sent all of us at the same time pictures of his 2 year old niece. I’m disgusted by this because what human uses their toddler niece to gain trust from women. He’s despicable so I tell his sister in law.

Anyways I put that behind me and meet a really nice guy, Tyler. We have awesome chemistry and we get each other. But he’s in the dark place and can’t be what I need. I understand this because I’ve been there several times but it still really sucks. I’ve had a really hard time moving on.

Fuckface is back on the dating apps going by a different name. He’s so vile 🤮

My training business is picking up and I’m genuinely starting to be kinda happy. I can at least get more daily things done but it’s still a disaster. Still having a hard time missing Tyler but managing. Before bipolar meds I would have spiralled into my pit of despair.

A new dog comes into my life. She is an Olde English Bulldogge just like Ernie was and I sincerely believe he sent her to me. The week before I met her as a training client for a rescue I train with, I’d been feeling his presence a lot. I’m about to adopt her and I started a part time job at a canine physiotherapy clinic doing hydrotherapy. I love it. I get to see my best friend after 5 years and meet her little daughter.

So I think things are kinda progressively getting better with each setback. But frick can I just be done with everything needing to be a lesson?? I’ve got my PhD at this point.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

H, J, N, T?

lol hey just remembered that i had these from dec 19th lol i think i was just so mentally unwell at the time that i couldn't actually process the fact that i had asks and was capable of answering them even tho i literally reblogged the ask game lol anyways was going through my drafts and saw this and i'm MUCH better now so i went through and found the game and imma do it now <3

h - what is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tw shows, movies, books, anime, western animation, etc.)?

answered that one here <3

j - name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over tumblr. (you don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that tumblr made you aware of.)

also answered that one here lol <3

n - name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

ooooo i'll do atla for you <3 hmmmmmmm okay. 1. more gaang-centric content - like... ones that aren't about any character in particular, but more about all of them as a family. like, rather than a focus character or ship, it's just... it's them and it's platonic and it's just them being silly <3 2. more zuko kicking things <3 look. he likes kicking things in canon. let him kick. dude's got strong leg muscles, he is angry sometimes, let him kick his anger out! break some stuff!!! i think zuko kicking is the most underrated thing about him 3. more of toph (in general-) and her parents. i have SO many hcs about what toph's life was like after the war ended - specifically about her relationship with her family (also katara hates toph's family btw she told me personally). like... the atla fandom LOVES angst but we (myself included) don't explore toph's trauma and familial issues enough. her parents fricking SUCK. wait imma talk about this more in t-

t - do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

also answered this one here BUT i am MORE than happy to give another answer <3 okay so to continue about toph- after the war, she realized oh my gosh i could have/almost died and was like. i want to at least make an EFFORT to reconcile with my parents. so, she takes some time and goes back home and... they're made at her. or maybe... no, they aren't even mad. they just don't care. you know that one scene in the dragon prince where claudia says "dad, soren could've died" and viren goes "THAT DOESN'T MATTER"? yeah. that's kind of what i'm getting. and toph tries so hard to repair her family but they're just so broken. her dad tries capitalizing the fact that toph helped end the war and uses it as a flex to increase his own status (not a proud dad talking about his daughter). her mom just pretends toph didn't fight in the war and basically tries gaslighting her into thinking she didn't. her dad sees a way to make money and her mom just doesn't want to deal with the crap her dad is doing or her daughter's earth bending and. and toph just has to deal with and accept the fact that her family doesn't care that she almost died and that they'll never genuinely love her or be proud of her. but... katara comes to visit and when she leaves, she takes toph with her and helps remind her that those two idiots aren't her Real family. her real family is waiting for them at the south pole.

[peemil]

i saw a post earlier today about how the meaning of “ship” in fandom has shifted over time, from previously meaning “this is a dynamic i am interested in exploring in fanon” to becoming “this is a relationship i need to become canon.” (readmore because i don’t really want this post to gain traction, just want to see what my friends/mutuals/followers think about this since i’m open to hearing different perspectives on this)

part of me wonders if the shift in question is partially responsible for a huge portion of modern fandom d*sc*urse, because we have two generations of fans using the same word very differently: one meaning that it’s your “one true pairing” and need to get the creators of the work to canonize it and show their support for it, and another not necessarily meaning you believe in it or support it or even like it, but are intrigued by what other people have to say about it.

i generally think there’s some romantic or sexual dynamics between that are... kind of weird for you to be overly explored, like if you’re writing smut of underage characters from bluey please please please stay away from me. but there is a difference between saying, “i think it would be interesting to see what other people have to say about this” and treating relationships between fictional characters as like, some sort of fanatical religion, that by being interested in it you see no issue with any aspect of it, that you are genuinely attracted to all aspects of it, and that you need other people to “convert” to your ship and support it too (and what better way of getting people to do that than the creators making it canon).

like, let’s take krisnix for example. i don’t want them to be endgame. that relationship would be toxic and disgusting and miserable (and miles is LITERALLY RIGHT THERE) and i don’t want to see phoenix living with the man who ruined him for the rest of his life. but i think saying they never had sex even once during the 7 year gap is also... just factually incorrect lol. i think the idea of hating someone so much you have to have sex about it, like fucking bonobos, is worth exploring in fiction, i think the idea of them fucking to get “closer” to each other to get more intel is so spy movie, and also i’m Very Fucking Nosy and want to know if it was completely impersonal, treated like a business deal, and done only under the harsh fluorescent lighting of an office bathroom (which is kind of a fetish in itself), or did they have their own idiosyncrasies and sexual quirks that were employed consistently and intentionally? and these aren’t questions i really have the answer to, so i look to other people’s interpretations to see what they have to say.

again, there’s no interest here in the two as a romantic couple. there’s no desire to see anything happening here long term. but i’m an adult, they’re both adults, and adults do stupid things sometimes for kind of crummy reasons. and saying that matter-of-factly is very different from saying, “ah, yes, this is a good thing that should continue for the rest of eternity, because i believe this is fundamentally good.”

on the other hand, you have s*f*kuras (censored because i don’t want them finding this), some of whom are just like “i see a lot of myself in cl*ud and i think seph*r*th is hot and i want to fuck him.” i don’t really have the energy to unpack that/don’t care enough to form an opinion on that because i have like, actual responsibilities in real life. i’m also not gonna sit here and pretend s*ph*roth isn’t hot.

 there is an obvious canonical power disparity between s*ph*roth and cl*ud that makes me... generally uninterested in, if not outright opposed to, the pairing. but i’ve seen people shift that dynamic in new ways, and create differences in perceived power that (or, at least, weren’t initially, before basically backtracking on that and making shit gross again) aren’t necessarily bad: perhaps cl*ud is a newbie in a leather club, and s*ph*roth is a long-time member who shows him the ropes (no pun intended). there are going to be newbies in leather clubs, and there are going to be longtime members, and they are going to have sex—this is a difference in experience that could actually be healthy, because a veteran who knows what they’re doing, who knows the safety rules, who knows how to be responsible, is better than some middling member who maybe doesn’t have everything down potentially mistreating the new guy.

but the thing is, the majority of stuff i’ve seen between the two (because i am, in fact, a hater and a hate-reader, and a pretty salty person overall) is... not that. it gets weirdly defensive about how their canon power difference isn’t actually all that bad (it is), how cl*ud is a consenting adult and can do whatever he wants (he wasn’t when they first met), how other ships can be equally as toxic (if we’re aiming for canon-compliance, they really can’t), how everyone else is just interpreting their relationship wrong and oh my god why can’t everyone just fucking agree with the author for once (because—and hear me out—the author’s entire premise is wrong). there are a few s*f*kura fics wherein z*ck realizes, “hey, this is kind of weird, actually, maybe we should get you out.” and he’s right lol but it always turns into this weird thing where like, z*ck becomes the actual manipulator for playing the “he’s x amount of years older than you” or whatever other card because he wanted cl*ud all to himself, and blah blah blah. like are we for fucking real. and it just feels like such a dig at z*kkuras, of all things, like why are you getting so defensive about this. if it’s “just fiction,” as you say, then why is someone disagreeing with you and saying “i don’t want to read that kind of story” such a threat.

and that’s where i have a problem, is when the “ship and let ship” crowd, of all people, gets so moralistic about it. like if you really were just playing with a dynamic and treating characters like moldable putty, and not treating it as “i’m right, i’m right, i’m right and this is Good and everyone else should Like It and Support Me” it’s kind of hard for me to believe you don’t actually support the things you’re portraying in your work and seek out in others. if you don’t actually support the things you’re portraying, why are you treating an unhealthy ship like it has to be endgame and you will destroy anyone who gets in your way. like... dude. do you hear yourself right now

i guess part of me wonders, if people see shipping d*sc*urse and are members of the former category could potentially mistakenly be aligning themselves with the latter category, because they don’t realize the word “ship” as a verb has shifted in meaning. do people see folks in the first category and lump them in with the latter because they’re young and that’s the only context they’re used to seeing the word used in. are people aligning and misaligning themselves in this debate all because we’re using two very different definitions of the word that lies at the center of this d*sc*urse.

[athunderingsky]

vent under the cut

im starting to get REALLY frustrated at my body and my health issues and the impacts that have precipitated from this experience.

i’ve been nauseous and throwing up constantly (near daily, usually in the mornings) for YEARS at this point and nobody seems to have any urgency about it (and no i’m not pregnant). my stomach issues are literally affecting my daily qol and i don’t know how much longer i can take it. my appetite and gag reflex are so fucked rn it’s hard to eat anything. i feel sick constantly and sometimes have to make myself throw up to feel better. the last time i drank heavily (october), i threw up blood.

my stomach produces insane amounts of acid to the point that i’m taking two acid reducers (nexium in the morning, pepcid at night) and am still feeling symptoms. i have an endoscopy on feb 5th that SHOULD answer at least some questions, but im not sure if i want them to find something or nothing. it’s also an incredibly invasive procedure that i have to go under general anesthesia for. i also scheduled it in NOVEMBER.

additionally, i have a (small) mass on my liver that i have no idea what it is and i wont find out for potentially a month, likely more. i have tremendous health anxiety that is being worsened by the possibility that i have a tumor or something malignant in my liver and/or stomach.

i have five doctors or procedural appointments in the next month and a half and i have zero expectations of getting anywhere with anything. i’m paying all this fucking money to continually spin my wheels and get nowhere while my body and life deteriorate. i have “good” insurance and yet i have to argue with them to just to get my fucking prescriptions filled.

but yano “just lose weight! you’ll get better :)” as if my pcos and endometriosis dont make it extremely hard to lose weight. i know i need to get in shape, but it isn’t a fucking cure all. i have to get a job and be able to function and i just can’t do that if im puking my guts out every morning. how is it possible that a person throws up once and they get to stay home and be doted on, meanwhile it happens to me nearly every fucking day and i just have to move on like nothing happened?

im only putting this into the aether in the hope that this feeling is temporary, and that i find answers soon. the doctors i have now clearly care and are doing what they can, but even then i had to sift through doctors who were so disconnected from my case that they actively missed things and my condition worsened under their “care.” regardless, i will get through this somehow, just pray for me lol.