#and then i was in and out of the er for months

[horce-divorce]

hi my bf and I are both trans, disabled + have been homeless for over a year, so here's an opportunity to save two trans ppl with a single donation!! (I have reblogged this w our pay links once before, but I'm pretty sure it was months ago so i hope this is ok!!)

we ran out of our most crucial medication today. if we go cold turkey off this one we will both wind up in the ER.

we really urgently need about $25 to refill it asap. atm it'll go the furthest on Venmo, but we do have paypal & cashapp too. absolutely anything helps!!

Also IDK if this sweetens the deal for anyone, but it was just my birthday on the 15th :)))

How about we just have like... hey trans people, post your pay links or wishlist or whatever you got. No limits, no trans excluded, intersex welcome, any and all genders off the social conventions included. I'll just reblog em a bunch.

I need a reblog to share your info, please use those, not comments or tags. I try to reblog immediately every instance I see between 10am and 10pm, everything else goes into the queue.

Additionally, Reddit has some donation resources, which are outlined and linked in this post. However, there are potential difficulties associated with these resources, with more details in this post.

Potentially useful links as I find them: Guide to Fundraising.

[jadkyll]

i like thinking about azul and a spiritual reader-

cw: azul has a single thought alluding to his past body issues, azul doesn’t believe in zodiacs 😞 but he will now 😼

—

azul seeing you one day, legs across your heartslabyul friends lap on a bench in the court yard.

jade, actually, was the one to point you out (more like sharply elbow into his gills- ribs he meant!) to the octomer.

you were boredly flicking through your phone as the one called ‘mackeral’ by floyd chased grim around groups of lingering students. “like those cartoons of the chicken chasing the wolf” floyd mused with his brother. but azul was too busy screen peeking as he walked by.

you were on that mage-tok, and a document in your notes.

azul’s eyes widen when you scroll down and start typing into search ‘retrograde’- yet he was too far past to see what else you were typing.

he didn’t need to look back to know what you were searching.

“it seems like our little prefect is looking for some… celestial guidance” jade’s smile is damning as he looks at his brother, arms lyingly behind his head giving the moray a bored demeanor.

yet his brother and octofriend know the truth. the three already devising a plan.

‘a happy accident’ azul scowls externally at the memory of jade’s knowing eyes. but what was worse than that stupid glint in his eye was the evil shine in his pearly white, carnivorous smile.

a shit eating grin, if you would.

azul shook himself of the thought and paced in front of the ‘operation: make [name] fall in love with the power of fate!’ or MNFLPF for short.

“man i dunno why’re yer so outta shape ov’r this.” azul’s pacing stops at the lilt in floyd’s voice.

“because” azul swiftly runs both of his pointer fingers and thumbs across the metal pointer. azul’s oversized jacket ruffling as he steps towards the lounging eels. dressed to the nines in their monstro lounge uniforms, azul had called them in for a ‘strategy meeting for next month.’ yet here they were, staring you and 20 red, dizzying strings in the face. wrapped around thumb tacks like kelp to a boat’s motor, the connected to different photos, written paragraphs, a star chart? no. two star charts.

your’s and- presumably- azul’s

“there is no such thing as fate, only preparation, hard work, grit” azul squeezes his baton inspirationally.

“but” his face softens, his shoulders relaxing into an almost dissapointed shrug. “[name] thinks differently- which is why” he takes a step back, smacking the chart with it’s own lines and symbols on it. “-we’re going to push her in the right direction?” jade finished with a poised sip of tea, legs crossed elegantly compared to his brother’s brutish man spreading.

“precisely” azul hums.

“why not just ask ‘er out?” floyd asks, drilling for gold in his ear, inspecting it, it appears he got nothing. he meet’s his ‘boss’’ gaze in a challenge.

“it’ll beat whatever” he ways his pinkie dismissingly “this is”

“none sense floyd. if azul think’s he needs help from the stats then let him consult his lucky one. who are we to judge, hm?” jade sips his tea, hooded eyes drinking in the offended octopi’s expression.

“you- no! i am merely convincing [name] that i am the right one via playing along with their horoscope.” he points to a ‘O’ with horns, bright red marker under it.

“according to” he rolls his eyes at the twin’s snickering “the stars- yes yes, it says that for the next month a ‘romantic oppurunity will make itself known, so stay villgient’ verbatium from the app they use- privy to jade and his, resources”

jade’s free gloved hand bows for him, floyd ‘whooping’ and celebrating his twin. a ‘go jade!’ spurring the twin to stand up and full bow. floyd only started clapping aggressively not because he cared, but because of the blooming blue blush that was making it was on azul’s cheeks.

“enough!” his hand slashes for attention and respect! his foot stomping in anger and a juvenile show of emotions. but the twins shaking bodies quickly deflates the bubble of control. a defeated sigh and a calming brush through his silver locks, his pinkie catching his long bang, he looks back to the board.

he circled the board once to attempt diffusing his embarrassment. “so for the entire month i will put myself and the prefect in situations where attraction can- and will, spark. that may lead to further progressions in our relationship-“

“just ask ‘em out!” the twins had sat down in their respected spots on the couch like nothing happened. floyd, not one to keep his thoughts to himself sounds from the peanut gallery.

azul ignores him, turning to the board with an eyes roll.

“now!” he swats the board again “the plan.”

“so the plan’s bullshit”

by the end of the month azul and the twins had navigated rose mazes in heartslabyul and scaled sand dunes in scarbia and had nothing to show for it.

except for an embarrassing amount of black mail material the twins had gathered up. that was something that made this whole crapshot worth it.

by some higher power (jade thinks the universe should tip them for keeping you safe from azul’s tentacular hold) you had alluded and or missed every attempt azul had planned to ensnare your heart by convenience.

your umbrella was magically missing? why, a kind soul like azul has one to spare! better yet, why not share it?

except he didn’t account for you hoisting your jacket over your head, grim’s fat stomach tussling you hair as you both held onto the makeshift covering and ran for it.

tsk. fine. one of many plans he had in mind.

your lunch money was pick picketed by an expert thief [for hire]? how troubling indeed dear prefect, how about you allow him to- and off you ran to your friends, chastising ace about him ‘owing you one from that one time that one time’

azul bites his lip in a vain attempt to control his emotions.

no matter, he has ample opportunity.

yet none came as time after time his plans would get foiled by you or own of your anemone friends.

it was the last day of the month on a full when azul decided, uncharacteristically of him, to go on a moonlit walk. usually, his daily routine guided him into his dorm at the end of the day, yet a flicker of melancholy and nostalgia of lonely moonlit night spurred this need for moonlight.

so there he was, on a bench head in his lap and hands tugging his hair as his mind races over the prolonged abuse he had suffered.

he’d never admit it, bur with each attempt his heart sunk lower, and deeper into the pits of this human stomach he’s borrowing. yet with grit in his teeth and determination in his eye he stoodfast and did his best. azul prided himself in the thought that he was better than everyone else.

over coming the tragedy of childhood loneliness is a feat many cannot brag about, but not him. he showed them, beat every single bully at their own game, rose to the tops in academia and had the oppurunity to continue his studies on land- something his classmates can only dream of.

he’s azul ashengrotto! a house warden in his sophmore year, en-route to be salutatorian points behind riddle rosehearts, he has a successful business at the age of 17 for crying out loud! he is better! smarter! skinnier than everyone else! so why-

“hey-“

azul jerks up with a gasp. eyes stinging behind his foggy glasses, novemeber air biting his nose.

fuck.

it was you.

“you okay?” cold air puffed from your lips as you tilted your head quizzically. he hated the way your eyes carful picked at him, he felt exposed in you gaze. so he did what he did best, and hid behind his practiced charm.

“naturally, i was just enjoying the crisp november evening…“ ‘a half lie,’ he thinks. he wasn’t enjoying any of it. yes, the cold weather soothed a pit in his stomach and calmed his frying nerves, but he couldn’t escape the mental torment raging inside his mind.

the constant flexing and un-flexing of his hands and toes, gritting of his teeth and sudden bursts of intense, anxious breathing.

he wasn’t enjoying any of it.

like a march lit against a match box in a pitch black room, you had managed to steal his attention away yet again.

you hum in agreement, looking around at the scenery. the black metal street lamps warmed the forever growing leaf piles that decorated the walkway in fall. different reds and browns contrasted with the glowing greens, the light wind rustling and messing with the fallen leaves.

“i had the weirdest dream”

“is that so?”

you sit down next to him, fiddling with that necklace you have on. running your thumb over its grooves and ridges. you had told him once that you got it at some shop for a few bucks. whatever ‘a few bucks’ meant, he assumed it must’ve been quite the penny with how you talk about it. how he’s never seen you without it once. the black yarn holding up the pendant could’ve been fused to your skin as far as he was aware.

“it was about…” you look at him, your eyes narrowing a millimeter in thought as you raked over his slightly more relaxed form. his body language betraying every nerve he thought he had hidden as he struggles to suavely sit back against the bench.

“you actually”

azul’s blue blood ran white as he felt his entire body freeze up.

“w-what?”

you gave him no time to finish as you scotted closer to him, bright eyes peering at him unnaturally.

“you sell yourself short mr-“ you raised your hands in quotation marks “20-step-plan”

a fire was lit in his as the november air turned his suit and jacket into a sauna suit. his cheeks were calming up as his mouth was gaping like a fish thrown on board.

you fix the croaked fedora on his head and lovingly close his mouth.

“i’d love to go on a date with you azul, text me the deets, ‘kay!” like a switched flip you scooted away, bounced on your heels up and continued on your merry way.

no need to tell azul about the day dream of two whispering eels in PE. especially not the one where you saw him trip and fall over his own shoe laces trying to catch up with you.

you decided (and the twins) decided he needed a little lucky star of his own.

fate, if you would.

boo i got lazy at the end

[your-unfriendlyghost]

stevepop roadtrip fic concept

(Ok so honestly this is the start of an original story w/ my ocs that I wrote months ago as a character writing exercise, hence why it’s in first person. But it fit Steve and Soda so well that I’m tempted to rewrite it with them lol) (more thoughts underneath the excerpt)

-

  “What the hell are you doing?” Steve hissed, throwing his window open.

  “Hey Stevie-boy,” I said. Normally he’d be happy to see me. But then, normally I wasn’t throwing rocks at his window, and normally he was wearing clothes, and normally the sun was out…so I understood his irritation.

  “Steve,” he corrected, glaring at me. “You ain’t cute enough right now for that.”

  I ignored him and tossed another rock. It bounced off his bare stomach, and he doubled over in shock.

  “Goddammit, Soda!” he snapped. I winced. I hadn’t meant to hit him.

  “Sorry!” 

  He rolled his eyes, picking up the rock and tossing it back at me. “Whatever, man- what the hell do you want?”

  I took a breath to steady myself. How was I supposed to explain this one… 

  “Well…I’m goin’ on a bit of a road trip…” I started.

  “Okay?” he said impatiently.

  “Right now. Like we leave right now.”

  “We?!”

  I cringed and looked down at the grass beneath me. “Er…yeah, if you come…”

  Steve raised his eyebrows so that they were almost hidden by his un-greased hair. “Woah woah- slow it down Sodapop- what?!”

  I swallowed, and finally met his eyes, deciding to just tear off the band-aid. “We’re lookin’ for Sandy Sparks.”

  Steve blinked, face going through a million emotions a minute. Finally he settled on a stony mask of neutrality. 

  “I’ll pack my bag.” he said, in a soft bitter voice he only used when we talked about Sandy.  -

So uh yeah, there it is. On paper, the plot of the fic would be Soda, Steve, and maybe Evie depending on how we feel about that going on a drive to Florida to check in on Sandy- Soda says it’s because he just wants to make sure she’s doing alright, but really it’s because he craves some sort of closure.

But the real plot would be less about that and more about Soda having a genuinely good time on the road, and realizing he’s in love with Steve and maybe Evie.

Idk it needs a more solid outline but yk lemme know what y’all think! (Should it be stevepop or steviepop? Anything you’d wanna read? Etc…)

No promises that I’ll write this, but I might, so definitely give me your thoughts!

[rypnami]

summoning you

characters: leander prewett x house neutral gn!mc word count: 1991 warnings: none! summary: after losing one too many rounds of summoner's court to them, leander becomes suspicious of MC's alleged skill at the game. a/n: for @selenedarling, i LOVED your prompt! i hope you like! this wasn't beta-read but its fine we ball!! ao3 link

“Oh, not again.” MC stomps their foot in frustration as their blue ball slowly rolls off the Summoner’s Court board and thuds into the grass below. Only one of theirs remains on the board, directly in the centre of the 20 point mark. On the other hand, the three red balls are scattered across the board- two on 20, one on 30.

“Aha! I win! I win! Take that!” Leander bounces up and down, throwing his hands in the air. He grins over at MC. “Er, sorry. You, uh, played well, too.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, cheeks going a bit pink. 

If it were anyone else, MC might have cursed them into next week, but they can’t bring themself to be very annoyed at Leander. To be quite honest, he’s cute when he’s excited, and he doesn’t get much more excited than when he wins at Summoner’s Court. “Ah, don’t worry. I’ll beat your ass next time, just you wait.”

Leander snickers. “You always say that, and you always lose. Er. Sorry. Again.”

“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” MC flicks their wand, resetting the board. “Ready for another round?”

“Um, can’t. Have Herbology soon. It’s really good weather today, would be a shame not to take advantage of it for the plants.” He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it a bit. 

The sun is shining, and there’s hardly a cloud in the sky. Leander is right, it’s perfect weather for tending outdoors, especially with winter only a couple months away. Now is as good a time as any to give the plants some last days of sunshine. Suddenly, MC finds themself regretting having opted out of Herbology this year- it seems like Summoner’s Court is the only time they get to be around Leander anymore, and it’s quite frankly not enough. Letting him win over and over is all well and good, but they’d like to do something with him that doesn’t involve being dishonest, even if it’s only a white lie.

“Sounds like someone is afraid of a challenge,” they tease. 

“Wh-what? No. Well.” He blushes again, looking away. Merlin, where does he get off being so adorable? MC will never understand it. “Perhaps, but I really do have class.”

“Which you’re going to be late for if you don’t hurry up.” Samantha Dale says loudly from beside the game board.

The pair of them jump. “Bloody hell, where did you come from?” Leander gasps, clutching at his chest.

Samantha rolls her eyes. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past several minutes, actually. Nice to know you were paying attention.” 

“Ah, who can blame us? We were in the midst of a gripping competition.” 

“I'm sure. You.” Samantha points at Leander. “Come. I will not be late because of you!”

MC frowns. Hmph. What’s she so eager about anyway? “Why don’t you just go ahead?” 

Samantha stares at them. “Because whenever I go it alone, Violet McDowel ends up sitting next to me, and I would rather limit how long I’m around her, frankly. Prewett is a step up, I suppose.”

“Gee, thanks,” Leander mutters, hopping down from the wooden platform. “I feel so loved." He spares MC a last glance, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. “Er. See you later?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They are not jealous as they watch Leander walk back to the castle with Samantha. It’s perfectly normal and platonic to feel itchy and mildly ill watching your good friend spend time with someone else. Not at all indicative at all of any underlying feelings that MC has definitely not been suppressing since the better half of last year. Nope, just normal everyday things to feel. Definitely. Not like they have a claim on him anyway. He’s perfectly free to hang around whoever he wants, even if it makes MC want to blow up a goblin encampment, just to feel something else. 

⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

“MC really is something,” Leander says conversationally. “Great at everything. Except for Summoner’s Court.”

Samantha gives him a strange look. “Yeah… funny, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Well, yes.” They both take their seats next to each other at their potting stations. “You really don’t find it strange that they practically excel in all their classes, they won every Crossed Wands duel for the second year in a row, and also was champion of Summoner’s Court last year? They beat Professor Ronen at his own game, literally.” 

Leander has gone a deep shade of red, so he busies himself poking at the leaves of his Mallowsweet plant in a pitiful attempt to distract himself. “That doesn’t-”

“They stopped a rebellion, destroyed a criminal empire in Hogsmeade, and saved the whole school from a goblin invasion, but they can’t beat you, of all people, at Summoner’s Court?”

“Hey!”

“Just saying,” Samantha shrugs. “It’s all a bit odd.”

As much as he’d like to argue, he knows Samantha has a point. It is odd. MC has never lost at anything else, ever, to the point it’s almost supernatural. From the day they first came to Hogwarts, surviving a dragon attack and then defeating a troll in the village circle, they’ve never been anything but extraordinary. How would they keep losing to him? He’s never been very good at anything at all, especially compared to MC. There’s a voice in the back of his head, almost always whispering that he’s not good enough.

“Oh, Merlin,” He groans, putting his face in his hands as the pieces fall together. “It’s pity. They’re letting me win out of pity because I’m terrible. For the love of-” Leander has never been so embarrassed in his life. It all adds up though, doesn’t it? How could MC ever fail, if not on purpose? Is he really so pathetic? How in the world hadn’t he noticed before someone else pointed it out? His older sister always does tease him for not being the most observant, and he always thought it was just that- teasing. Unfortunately for him, it seems like she couldn’t have been more correct. 

“That might not be it,” Samantha says, gently patting his shoulder and looking mildly distressed. “I- perhaps they really aren’t very good! Probably, er, got rusty over the summer holiday, right?”

It’s appreciated, but her words do little to help. They both know damn well MC is throwing the games on purpose, but the question for him now is why? Why in Merlin’s name would they want to lose to him? 

He’s determined to find out. Grabbing his Mallowsweet in its hand-painted terracotta pot,he gets out of his seat with it. “I’m going to take Mortimer outside for some proper sun.”

“I believe you,” she says flatly.

Leander sticks his tongue out at her as he struts out of the Greenhouses with the plant. He might not be good at Summoner’s Court, but he does know plants, and he knows how much Mortimer likes to feel real sun on his leaves. Would MC think it’s weird that he gives his plants names and personalities? Is it weird? Why does he even care? 

“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” he mutters to the plant. “One way or another.”

He shoves open the castle doors, and spots MC still loitering by the Summoner’s Court board. There’s no other challengers, yet there they are, sat on the edge of the platform and kicking their feet. The way the sun shines down on them, making their eyes sparkle just so… it feels like a whole swarm of lacewing flies have taken flight in his belly. Glad he’s got Mortimer for emotional support (although taking a moment to cringe that he thinks of a plant as support), he walks over to them quickly, before he loses his nerve. 

“Well, look who it is,” MC says with an easy smile, which does not help the flip-flopping of his stomach. “I thought you had Herbology.”

“I did. Er, I do.” Leander clears his throat. “Plants prefer, erm, real sunlight though, and Mortimer here really likes when the weather is so nice, so…” 

MC tilts their head. “You name your plants? That’s sweet.”

“Y-yes. Er, that’s not, erm, the only reason I came back out, though. Um.” Just spit it out, you idiot! “Are you- have you…” He squeezes the pot to his chest, suddenly feeling foolish. Merlin, but he must look like an idiot, holding a plant and hardly able to get a real word out. “Have you been letting me win? At Summoner’s Court, I mean?”

“Uh.” MC’s face seems to go a bit pale. “Um. Would you be particularly upset if I have been?”

“I…” Leander sits next to them, shifting the pot so it rests in his lap. “Not especially. I’d just like to know… why?”

They shrug. “You always seem so happy when you win, you know? Thought I might let you have a few victories.”

“But so many times in a row? You haven’t won a single round in weeks!” 

A silence stretches between them, slightly awkward. “I…” They chew their lip and don’t meet his eyes, which is wholly unlike them. “I dunno, I thought if you kept losing, you wouldn’t want to play anymore.” To avoid looking at Leander, they stare at his plant instead, picking off some of the withered leaves. “I miss spending time with you, is all. We hardly have any classes together anymore, and with Crossed Wands already over for the year, it feels like this is the only place we can really be around each other.”

What what what what what what what WHAT.

“W-we do have some classes together…”

“It’s not the same, though.” They stop fiddling with Mortimer and glance up at him. 

Leander forgets how to form words for a moment. “I- I suppose not.” 

“I…” MC takes a deep, steadying breath. “I really like you, and being around you, and you’re not like anyone else I know, and I just… wasn’t sure how to ask you to… spend time together. More time together.”

“Could’ve just said that,” Leander says with a light chuckle, although it feels like his chest is constricting. They like him? And being near him? How on earth is that possible? “But I do appreciate winning.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” They elbow him, and he almost drops his plant. “Take that, I win every time, you lose!” They attempt to mimic his voice. Actually, it’s not a bad impression. 

“I really like being around you, too.” 

Now MC is blushing as well, something Leander never expected to see in all his life. Honestly, it suits them. “So, then… would you maybe want to go to the Three Broomsticks tonight? Like… as a date?”

He wants to jump up and down and say yes yes yes a million times yes absolutely as if you even have to ask, but…

“I would really love to, but I can’t tonight, I have to take care of Percy. But you’re welcome to join me in the Greenhouses… as a date. It could be fun!” A first date involving plants sounds like a grand time to Leander.

“Percy?”

“He’s a moonflower. They only bloom at night, but they’re good for potions and such, so… only if you want!” The burst of confidence has already faded, and the tiny voice is back, telling him that it’s just more pity, that MC doesn’t really want to be with him, of all people, and that his idea for a date is stupid. He tells it to shut up.

“I’d be more than happy to. A greenhouse date sounds lovely.” MC gives him that easy smile again, making his knees a bit weak. How are they so amazing? “You know, I always thought of the moon as a woman. Not a man called Percy.”

“Well, yeah, but Percy isn’t the moon, he’s a moonflower, there’s a difference.” 

“Oh, shush, you.”

[knightconstellation]

This is so true. My aunt has asthma, she's one of the worst asthma cases in our country (England). She gets put on every new experimental drug they come out with. She regularly gets rushed to the ER to be put on steroids because she cannot breathe. I'm talking like once a month at least. This shit put her in a coma. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't call it mild. It's all relative.

Then there's me. I have anxiety. It's not just me being unable to relax completely in public. It's me not being able to cook or bake without help or supervision (I haven't cooked for myself in over two years, my dad makes all my meals for me, I'm 25). I leave the house rarely and have daily panic attacks, I wouldn't call my case mild either.

These are just some of the ways our disabilities affect us, the tip of the iceberg if you will. But even if our symptoms were mild, we would still deserve to be listened to, to be respected, to have accessible environments etc.

So please the next time someone tells you about their disabilities, remember that you have no idea how much they are struggling just by looking at them.

while I’m talking about disability shit.

I think people. sometimes. even in the disability community. forget that every possible symptom under the sun is on a spectrum of severity, intensity, frequency, etc. every person experiences their disabilities differently in ways that are, quite frankly, incomparable

sometimes the way people talk about certain disabilities implies that it is somehow possible to rank every disability from objectively ‘not that bad’ to ‘the worst in the world’ and that’s just not true. the way people talk about social anxiety or sensory issues or asthma or whatever forgets the fact that those are all disabilities that look very different from person to person and from day to day. there’s no such thing as an inherently mild disability

[petratherrock]

Here, have Cardan's power showing itself voluntarily and also the involuntary ones. I took these ss months ago when I was doing the series reread but I didn't quite finish TWK reread (and TSH duology) because I spent my happy hormone from this series lol, so maybe there's a few scenes that I don't have here

I just think Fae powers are neat. Cardan never really utilized his power before be became king and when he was crowned, and finally did, we kinda see how this guy isn't just some puppet

If he was hell bent on taking the crown like Dain and Balekin, had proper magic and kinglihood (?) training, I'm sure plucking wings off of faeries isn't the only worse thing he coulda done. Even more so because he's royalty

That's why I don't like those memes of Cardan being the useless noodle. He's not. This guy is a fae, he's far from being the helpless maiden in the relationship. He's not as bloodthirsty, sure. He also doesn't go out of his way to be threatening to everyone all the time like Jude (and for good reason in her case), unless when he's required to or when he's annoyed. He's a little chill-er of the two, yes, but weak? no.

The land also responding to Jude because she's the legitimate Queen of Fae <3

[cicadasides]

god there is so much i could say about that time of my life…it’s really no wonder i have medical anxiety

[navree]

"rhaenys could have ended the war by dracarysing all the greens right there" yes because a distant relation to the throne deciding to barbecue an anointed and publicly positively hailed king and his entire family who is well loved within the city and in multiple other parts of the country for the sake of the succession of a far-away princess no one was ever on board with who hasn't been seen by the populace in literal years, her psycho husband, her three obvious bastards, and two toddlers from the psycho husband would go over super well with westeros and especially in king's landing where scores of the still-cheering population were killed for no reason by that same dragon who would do the barbecuing, because when targaryens act unilaterally without thinking of how the people would react there's never any problem, which is why the storming of the dragonpit and robert's rebellion were actually just collective delusions dreamed up by readers who hate rhaenyra and not key parts of the story and house targaryen's history that directly contributed to their demise and are intrinsic to the plot

truly team black stans are made up of only the most genius and media literate amongst us

[power-chords]

She’s also going to try to track down a therapist who specializes in mood disorders, costs less $$$, and can see me sustainably long-term for talk therapy. I told her that I was having trouble processing what happened to me, probably a common sentiment in the aftermath of psychotic mania. She said I was lucky, that she sees a ton of bipolar patients, and that the fallout from mine was “nothing” (which was not to diminish the extremity of my experience, only to emphasize just how destructive the disease can be and often is). I had just enough insight, grit, and craftiness to recognize that my beliefs and perceptions were bizarre and required concealment from loved ones/employers. It was a blessing and a curse — on the one hand, very few people figured out that I was sick. On the other hand, very few people figured out that I was sick! What might have lasted three weeks dragged on for three months because the (reasonable, lmao) threat of involuntary commitment petrified me. I’d done the psychiatric ward once before in 2008 while waiting for a bed at Silver Hill to open up. Those 36 hours in a blank, padded room scarred me worse than anything I had ever done or had done to me under the influence. I was completely unprepared for the terror and humiliation that is the total revocation of one’s autonomy. The nurses were callous, and I felt like an animal. To call it dehumanizing is an understatement. As hostile as the environment in my head was becoming, I was convinced that the ER posed the more immediate danger and had to be avoided at any cost.

Somehow I succeeded. I was listening to a clinician on a podcast the other day, this guy who runs an outpatient facility for people with mood disorders, and he said that manic episodes inevitably end in one of three ways: death, jail, or hospitalization. HA HA! Not for me! Meep meep, bitch! Weaseled my way out of that one!!! (Ironically, it’s a permutation of the old AA/NA refrain I had heard so many times before: "We are people in the grip of a continuing and progressive illness whose ends are always the same: jails, institutions, and death." Dodged two bullets, apparently.) I have to laugh about it so I don't cry.

I'm sure it's annoying that I'm posting about this so much but having my whole life upended again at 36 was not on my bingo card. I had been so stable for so long, I was by all accounts a well-adjusted, normie-passing yuppie, and assumed the psychic turmoil of my youth was ancient history. It is a miracle that I was not seriously injured — for a while I was wandering city streets late at night, believing no harm could come to me — and that my career, finances, and marriage have survived intact. The statistics on bipolar illness are astonishingly grim. It’s like being in possession of a nuke inside your skull that can arm itself without warning and the codes to destroy your own life. You think of yourself as a sane person; you take for granted that the state of "sanity" is a robust and stable one, and that only the most extreme circumstances would push you over the edge. It is, and I do not use this term lightly, traumatizing to spend 12 consecutive weeks unmoored from reality and behaving in ways that are completely at odds with your personality. I am not a paranoid, angry person. I don’t hold grudges or presume the worst of others’ intentions. On the contrary! If anything, I am too trusting, too forgiving. I reflect on this past summer and don’t even recognize myself. The existential reckoning, the guilt and the shame, are overwhelming.

Last week I finished reading An Unquiet Mind and one of the things that struck me is how fortunate this woman was in three respects: the timing of when her manic depression struck (I.E., at intervals that still permitted her to finish college/her post-graduate studies), the uncommonly generous support of her family and colleagues (back when the stigma against mental illness was even worse than it is now), and probably most significant of all, access to superlative medical care (the UCLA psychiatric department) and responsiveness to lithium treatment. I benefit, thank god, from a situation with many of the same resources. She's led a fulfilling, successful, and ultimately long life. It felt good to read about a woman who played a "happy ending" out of the rotten hand she'd been dealt, whose experiences reflected so many of my own, and who seems to have retained her sharpness and verbal acuity well into old age. Cognitive decline is common as the illness progresses, and this is my greatest fear of all.

What's immediately, tragically evident in perusing the r/bipolar subreddit is just how many people find themselves in the exact opposite position. Insanity strikes at the worst possible moment; abandonment ensues from friends and employers, relatives and spouses; therapy and medication are lacking and insufficient, respectively. Financial and social ruin, and the resultant despair, are frequent outcomes. Dependency on SSDI and/or abusive and inescapable housing situations are documented left and right. The scope of the devastation is harrowing, and the guilt and humiliation that follows on its heels is a compounding cruelty. Knowing this, I am opting to feel lucky instead of unlucky. It has not been easy. It will not be easy. But I am as stubborn as they come, and I will figure shit out. "One day at a time," to borrow another 12-Step adage.

Dr. Ferrari referred me to a ketamine clinic and we're shooting for the week after Thanksgiving to commence infusions. She wants to space them out more than is typical, like every four days as opposed to every other day, to minimize the risk of triggering mania. But that's strictly precautionary and she thinks I'm an excellent candidate overall. Fingers crossed...

[modest-starr]

TEEHEE

[supermaks]

Kit do you not rep Charles anymore 😭

Of course I do he’s prime I just need a break from his team and that fucking dog

[helltrskelter]

Rkgk

[zauromoun]

OH YEAH I should probably post my pfp art lmao.

[boxwinebaddie]

Hi Uncle Neen! HYH! It sucks to see you struggling cuz you are a big inspiration of mine :( but you said you did your makeup the other day. Can we seeeeeeeeee maybe?

d'awwww ksahdlkdss, you are so sweet, nonnie! thank you so so soooo much, baby! xx i really needed this. i hope i heal ( i will...i have to, i am too much of an asshole to let god win, fuck him ) and i hope you heal from whatever harms you as well! you can do it! mWAH!~

-- also brb crying ;-; <3333 whenever y'all tell me i inspire you, it seriously makes me want to cry; you mean SO much to me, so to mean so much to you; it's Everything to me, my love. thank you for believing in me, know i believe infinitely in YOU and will keep fighting the good fight, living authentically and modelling pos behavior on this blog bc i take being a role model very seriously. :')

BUT ANYWAYS! sakhdlasd oh my god aaAaaAAAaa please!!! YOU ARE SO CUTE, THIS IS SO CUTE OF YOU, hELP AAAAA!!!!!! but yes, of course, of course. considering i am super bacteria nina right now and had to resign from my ( admittedly ) trash job and am no longer, at this moment, an education girlie ( besides on here, ofc, educating you on my two gay sons in love ), i can freely exist and post pictures of myself again! thank you for for giving me a safe place to do that. <3

i'll elaborate on what 'safe' means to me down below, but just for context i took this...sigh...last week, when i was told i would 'all better', just trying to feel like myself again after a month of being unmadeup and unfitted and ugly and troll-like and on death fucking row and fucking miserable as hell, i had my new hair appointment lined up, was about ready to take life by the balls again...and that shit BLUE BALLED ME SO HARD AND SAID *ravenstan vc* JK, BABY!

okay, sorry i have some really bad scarring and wounding up there by my neck so i had to cover her up but...there she is! the she beast!

as for posting pictures of myself just...please...PLEASE BE KIND. and i wish i meant that as a joke, i mean it very, VERY seriously. i am at a point right now, where i look my very fucking worst, i am weaker than i have ever been in my life, there are abrasions all over my body, which per the results of my culture ( i was right...several fucking times and no one would listen to me ) my body is trying to kill me and right now...it is Winning. ( i'm not gonna lose tho, dw, i am a nasty bitch from hell and i refuse to die this ugly, i fucking won't; choke )

tldr; I AM VERY VERY VERY SENSITIVE ABOUT HOW I LOOK. I DO NOT FEEL PRETTY, I AM LIKE ONE BAD COMMENT AWAY FROM TEARING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE AND I AM TELLING YOU GUYS I CANNOT DO THAT, I CANT CREATE ANY TEARING ON MY BODY OR THE BACTERIA WILL TUNNEL AND ITS HARD ENOUGH AS A BITCH WITH DERMATILOMANIA.

PLEASE BE NICE TO ME.

i know we shoot the shit on here and are funny and clown eachother, you guys are my family; it's what families do, but my boundary is that you can say i am pretty and be objectively kind or Please do not send me anything At ALL about how i look; i CANNOT take it rn. i know were just joking, but please, please, PLEASE Do NOT compare me to any ugly creatures, make me feel weird about any part of my face, tell me i look blurry, say anything is too big or too small…

please don’t meme on me abt my appearance...Ever.

it’s a very sensitive spot for me and makes me v anxious.

all this to say, i love you; thank you for being my home.

HYH.

-uncle nina, single ravesey mother and human petri dish

[10001gecs]

I have been feeling stagnant at the gym :(

[killjoy-prince]

Trying on the cosplays imma wear to a con in a month and getting excited that ill be cosplaying said characters in a month