#anyway anyway idk where im going with this

[drdemonprince]

do you have any advice on navigating a friendship with a former abuser? they are pretty open about their past when asked although not incredibly initially forthcoming about it, which I think is understandable if maybe not the most,, idk,, straightforward I guess. But I do truly believe they’ve mended their ways and try really hard to do right by themselves and other people, but they’ve garnered a lot of vitriol from their former community (and with reason!!) but that community tries to, rightfully, make sure everyone knows about this person’s past, and I have a lot of guilt around being friends with them even though I do believe that they’re different now, I wouldn’t be friends with them if I didn’t believe that. Anyways, I guess im curious if you have any advice or experience with how to navigate any kind of relationship with someone who has done a lot of prior harm, while also trying to honor and respect the people who they have harmed?

I think that people in that situation are in really desperate need of community, most of the time. It is very difficult to work on yourself when pressure to excise you from every social group follows you everywhere you go, and the stories of what you've done have morphed into an entity that exists entirely outside of you, your victims, or anyone who was actually privy to the abuse that you committed.

It's very reasonable for people affected by the abuse & their allies to want nothing to do with such a person, of course. But there sometimes becomes a broader community norm of penalizing anyone who associates with the abusive person in any way whatsoever, and when you're already struggling with entitlement, boundary issues, loneliness, impulsivity, and self-hatred, as so many abusers do, it's hard not to spiral out further from being rendered that radioactive.

I think by being friends with this person you're doing something important. It is far easier for people to grow when they have social incentives to do so and emotional support. In the care of other people, we see our worth reflected. We learn more about who we are and who we *can* be through the interplay of ours' and others' various selves.

I think the best thing that you can do is to offer a space to this person in your life, if you continue wanting to, and building small spaces for them to find connection with people who are okay with that and feel comfortable doing so. Bring the person along with you into new spaces where they can help people and receive help in turn, without constantly being defined by their most horrible actions. Bring this person along with you to somewhere they've never been, with people who have no issue with them -- do a shift together at the local mutual kitchen or community garden, for instance, or a book club, or include them in a cultural practice that you participate in, and share that with them. Do jail support together, or mail books to prisoners. Take both of you outside of your everyday social context and allow them to exist in a new way, in new relations to others -- including people who, like them, have experienced social ostracism and struggle.

While you're doing that, observe them and see how they're doing. Talk with them afterward about how they feel, and anything they're finding difficult. I will trust your judgement here that the person seems fundamentally changed. Just being there and involved in activities alongside them will help you be on the lookout for any red flags, and I do think there is a degree of responsibility on your part to ensure you're not putting anyone else in danger by being around them, but you can do this in a light, nonjudgmental way, and let them grow into that trust that you're offering.

I have witnessed firsthand how healing it is for people like your friend to slowly realize that suddenly there are people that like them, now, and open up to them, when everybody shied away from them or hated them before. I do think that if someone is committed to no longer being abusive or boundary violating around others, they eventually do need to feel that they are accepted by some community, and seen as on par with anybody else. They can't be treated as lesser or more suspect for their entire lives in every social context. The communities they've already harmed shouldn't have to provide them with that acceptance and room to grow. But I think somebody should.

As always, keep an eye on your own feelings and make sure that this isn't too exhausting for you. By keeping the formerly abusive person separate from the groups they've harmed, you should be able to minimize the blowback you get for spending time with them. Not all of our friends need to be friends with one another, and not every social group in our lives has to make contact. It's okay to include your friend in a running group with a few other people you met volunteering but then keep their name off the guest list for your birthday party because associates of their victims will be there. If your friend is truly contrite over their actions, they will understand and respect that some people will never want to be around them -- and most reasonable community members should understand that who you associate with independently of them is not their business.

There may be some people who take a really hard line stance and expect everyone to ostracize the former abuser no matter what, and so you might be criticized or lose friendships with such people. But so long as you are helping to give the former abuser some social connection that is separate from anybody they've hurt, and you're not pressuring anyone to be around them or doing any apologism for them (which it sounds like you have no interest in doing), then you are not doing a thing wrong, and I think it's beautiful to give someone that space in your life. Navigating this stuff with grace, respect, and compassion is a skill that a lot more of us will eventually have to develop than we realize, I think. Life is long, and over the course of it, people change a great deal and do a great many things they regret. We need to be able to move through these things together somehow.

[thetrueressii]

ok ive reached like peak cringe, making au comics im almost embarrassed fkjashdkasjhd anyways have a very small comic with saint, hunter, and enot with zero context

ok context

enot and saint were students of sliver of straw with enot being saint's senior, enot goes on a journey one day in pursuit of more knowledge and further sliver's teachings

this journey ends after they managed to get into rubicon and beyond, getting brain blasted with all the information/knowledge of the universe in like 2 seconds and goes crazy and also gains god like powers that are above anything else in the world

theyre basically just happy chaos lol, idk how else to explain their character without going into an essay

basically theyre a dnd dm in a campaign where he forgets the rules the moment the session starts and starts improvising for their own amusement, to the benefit or detriment of the players (i.e. everyone else that isn't him)

he also likes to fuck with saint

(they also may or may not have caused arti's whole revenge arc)

[kitty-meowskers]

GUYS JINX MADE SEVIKAS ARM FROM THE GAMES IN THE LITTLE HIDEOUT SHE VI MYLO AND CLAGGOR???

^where jinx was working and where they hid away from the enforcers (this time vi was not one of them but we dont talk about that)

^here you can see her taking things apart

SEVIKAS FUCKING HAND IN THE SHOOTER GAME

the three reel slots too (at least the handle/lever of the gun)

the power measurement thingy(idk) from the leaderboard

so much detail guys im going INSANE anyways yeah hahahaha

sevika loved it very much too

[bunnyb34r]

Dude some areas are saying their estimate of when they'll have power again is a fucking WEEK away 😩 I'd honestly fucking die. Like it took EVERYTHING in me to not kms when the power was out for 4 days out of an expected 5. And that was in the early springtime so while we were cold, we were okay

85 degrees and MUGGAY today oh and it's gonna rain again

[hinamie]

i'm exactly as normal about him as I thought I'd be

[peachiiwren]

had to draw them as that one meme going around on twitter

Original:

[shadow-bender]

Please pray and raise awareness for Cole Brings Plenty, a Lakota actor and student. He was found on april 5th. This is such an awful and cruel act of violence, im having a hard time finding the words.

April 8th Rising Hearts has organized Braids for Cole, so please wear your hair in braids and bring awareness so that Cole and his family can get justice.

*edited to correct information*

[teh-inggris]

pvp civ nation...... this aint much but pls take my contribution for this series bc im going insane i love hate this man so much get him out of my head

[wandixx]

I've seen a lot of different takes on Fear Toxin/other fear causing stuff (Yellow Lanterns Ring or something)(later just called Fear Toxin cause I'm lazy) but here is another one.

Danny seems like he isn't affected by Fear Toxin because his biggest fear is that his accident changed him so much he is no longer human, he can no longer truly experience human things.

So when he gets lungful of fear Toxin, he feels normal. He was antsy before, because c'mon, it's a rogue attack but it's not worse. Or so he thought. Because the anxiety lingers. Not enough to register as abnormal just this slight hypervigilance that makes you see things about yourself and your surroundings that you'd never realize otherwise. He'd realize he doesn't blink as often. He'd realize that if he doesn't consciously focus, he sometimes seems to not touch the ground. Forgets to breathe. He can't feel his own pulse at time. He'd realize people will miss him when he's walking down the street as if he was invisible (people just don't care about everyone they pass by). When he'd look straight into his reflection, he'd look slightly to the left. Not enough to actually name anything that was wrong but just stretched enough to fall on the wrong side of the uncanny valley. If he just caught his reflection in the peripheral vision, it'd be vaguely shadowy creature with glowing green eyes and white smoke instead of hair. Overall he'd be just wrong enough to be distinctly not human.

For everyone else, he'd be just a dude. Literally couldn't find more normal dude than this dude. Will pass as absolutely normal human unless someone is specifically looking for ecto-ghost stuff. Even most magic users wouldn't clock him at the glance

Tldr: Fear Toxin makes Danny perceive himself as some sort of eldritch horror but not enough to make him believe he'd actually be affected, while from outside perspective he's Just A Dude™

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[puppyeared]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[loulovingho]

once a year tommy goes to this little cafe outside of LA and sits at the same table and orders the same meal. he's done it since he got back from the army. no one knows about it except for the owner of the cafe, steve, who's been there since day one. he didn't always go alone. when he was young he would go with his mom. it was a yearly tradition when they'd go back-to-school shopping. they went right before he was shipped off to afghanistan too, just because they'd miss their usual date. when tommy was away, his mom died of a sudden heart attack. he didn't even find out about it for a few weeks.

he didn't go for a couple of years after that. the anniversary of their annual cafe date was somehow worse than the anniversary of her death. but one year, something inside him screamed for him to go back. go have that meal that they loved so much. sit at that table. do it for her. maybe you'll even feel her there? so he goes. and steve remembers him. how could he ever forget tommy? he'd watched that kid grow up!

the first year he went back was hard. he barely ate the food, felt indescribably lonely, and once he got back to his car he sobbed for nearly half an hour before he could even drive away.

then he came back the next year, and the next, and the next. he kept coming back, always alone. even when he had people in his life, he'd come alone.

then one year steve looked over at the table, knowing tommy should be arriving soon, and saw two men sitting there. he went over to tell them they'd have to move- the table was reserved, but halfway over he stopped. it was tommy... with someone this time. the other guy was looking around, then leaning in close to tommy. it looked like he was asking questions. he reached over the table and took tommy's hand and squeezed it and tommy... smiled. he smiled a real smile that reached his eyes. steve hadn't seen that smile since the last time he came with his mom.

so steve walks over to the table to say hello, like always. to ask him about his life and what he's been up to this last year. he'd always say "not much, really. nothing new." but this time he kept his smile, motioned toward the man across from him and introduced him as, "My boyfriend, Evan Buckley, or Buck. Evan, this is Steve."

and this boy, Buck, he stands and shakes steve's hand, asks to pull up another chair, says, "i heard you knew tommy's mom?"

steve nods. "i did." because while tommy only came once a year, his mom came more often. it was her little safe haven away from home.

"i've heard a lot about her from tommy," this buck said, a bright smile on his face. "but i'd like to know more. what was she like?"

so steve sat, and talked and talked, and the boys listened- Buck listened.

tommy never came to the cafe alone again.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

if you struggle with mental health, one piece of advice i would genuinely give you is learn to knit.

or crochet: something repetitive to do with your hands, assuming you're capable of it. if you're like me and learnt to knit as a kid but let it lie fallow for a long time, it may be that starting a large, simple project (for me it was a cloak, but a blanket could work too) gets you back into it. or maybe doing something smaller, idk. i personally found socks really hard for a while because they felt smaller than my cloak but weren't getting Done quick enough for me. as i've sped up i find it more interesting to knit socks.

regardless, a repetitive task is great for emotional regulation (also see: autistic stimming), and something that you can look at and go hey i've done something, unlike simply using a fidget toy, can also help to pick your mood up when the brain is being cruel.

it's also useful as a conversation starter or distracter if you don't know what to talk about. if you're wanting to talk to older people also you're more likely to reel them in with knitting (i work better with older people, and 99% of people who ask what i'm knitting are older than me). it also gives you the opportunity to not make eye contact because you're busy knitting, even if you're still carrying on a conversation. if you're absolutely stuck for conversation you can count your stitches and people might stop bothering you.

if you have trouble focusing without doing something with your hands, you can knit! i knit a lot in church, and it helps me to focus on what's being said.

i probably have more reasons you should pick up knitting, but i can't recall them right now, so yeah.

[rowanisawriter]

various situations

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[coatl-cuddles]

" WIP DELETE LATER 🤪🤪🤪" ok who gaf?