#how to start a peer support group

[ace-of-bass]

Can I ask how you went about starting your ace/aro group? How did you find people? I would love to do something like that in my area but have no idea how to start. I looked at making a group on Meetup but that's pretty expensive.

Yeah! I started with my friend who's also ace, so it helped that there were two of us. The main things we had to work out were where to meet and how to advertise. She booked a room at her non-religious "church" for Tuesday nights, and we made a flyer that we hung up around town in coffee shops and such. Our main advertising, however, was tabling at the local Pride. Our first year we had, like, a stack of our fliers and didn't even get our own booth - we shared a booth with the Bi+ Visibility group.

Our first meeting was the week after Pride, I think, and we had maybe 7 people show up? That whole first meeting we wrote up a group agreement of "rules" for the group and discussed logistics of how to communicate. Everyone there had Discord so I took down people's usernames and started a Discord server. For the next month, I posted a list of topics in the Discord and had people vote for which we should discuss. Things like "dating as an ace/aro person or opting not to date in a world obsessed with dating", "figuring out your identity", "coming out", etc. That meeting we just had a discussion about that - everyone saying what they wanted when they wanted. Basically we'd rinse and repeat that once a month and people kept coming. We had a holiday party in December and a Palentine's party near Valentine's Day. The group kept growing slowly but steadily, primarily through word of mouth.

The next year for Pride we got our own booth, which was our biggest expense (around $200), but we got a lot more people interested too. That year we made buttons in the ace and aro colors that said things like "I'd rather have garlic bread" and got ace/aro colored stickers online. We gave the first sticker/button away for free and asked for a donation if you wanted more than one. Year two was basically the same as year 1, just with more people. Eventually we added a second monthly meeting as we were pushing 20 people at each meeting which meant it was hard for everyone to have a turn to talk.

Last summer we needed to raise money if we were going to continue tabling at Pride (and we were thinking of incorporating as a nonprofit which takes money) so we held a benefit show. I play music so I got my band and two others to play, and several of our members do comedy so they did standup sets in between the bands. We got a percentage of the door as well as donations from that which meant we had an actual budget. Mostly we just spent that on the Pride booth and supplies for our crafty members to make cooler merch though.

We also ended up getting asked to table some other queer-friendly events at the history museum, which we did. I'm not sure we gained any members from that, but some of the more gay/lesbian centered queer orgs were introduced to us and (sometimes) to asexuality and aromanticism so that was cool.

Basically my advice to someone wanting to start a group is

0.5) Find someone to join you - doing this is easier if you have at least one other person to share the load. If you don't already know someone who's aspec, just be prepared to ask someone to step up pretty shortly after starting.

1) Find a place to meet. Libraries are a potential but aren't always open in the evenings. Churches are alright but might drive away non-religious people. I'd say a queer-friendly coffee shop might be your best bet.

2) Make some fliers and go to Pride (or another well-attended queer event/locale). Hand them out to people and invite them to the group.

3) Host your first meeting. You can either do what we did and decide on rules or just jump into talking about being aspec.

3.5) Create a way to keep in touch with people so you can tell them when the next meeting is happening.

4) Host more meetings, adjusting as necessary.

[trans-axolotl]

also in regards to that last article about varied ways of thinking about psychosis/altered states that don't just align with medical model or carceral psychiatry---I always love sharing about Bethel House and their practices of peer support for schizophrenia that are founded on something called tojisha kenkyu, but I don't see it mentioned as often as things like HVN and Soteria House.

ID: [A colorful digital drawing of a group of people having a meeting inside a house while it snows outside.]

"What really set the stage for tōjisha-kenkyū were two social movements started by those with disabilities. In the 1950s, a new disability movement was burgeoning in Japan, but it wasn’t until the 1970s that those with physical disabilities, such as cerebral palsy, began to advocate for themselves more actively as tōjisha. For those in this movement, their disability is visible. They know where their discomfort comes from, why they are discriminated against, and in what ways they need society to change. Their movement had a clear sense of purpose: make society accommodate the needs of people with disabilities. Around the same time, during the 1970s, a second movement was started by those with mental health issues, such as addiction (particularly alcohol misuse) and schizophrenia. Their disabilities are not always visible. People in this second movement may not have always known they had a disability and, even after they identify their problems, they may remain uncertain about the nature of their disability. Unlike those with physical and visible disabilities, this second group of tōjisha were not always sure how to advocate for themselves as members of society. They didn’t know what they wanted and needed from society. This knowing required new kinds of self-knowledge.

As the story goes, tōjisha-kenkyū emerged in the Japanese fishing town of Urakawa in southern Hokkaido in the early 2000s. It began in the 1980s when locals who had been diagnosed with psychiatric disorders created a peer-support group in a run-down church, which was renamed ‘Bethel House’. The establishment of Bethel House (or just Bethel) was also aided by the maverick psychiatrist Toshiaki Kawamura and an innovative social worker named Ikuyoshi Mukaiyachi. From the start, Bethel embodied the experimental spirit that followed the ‘antipsychiatry’ movement in Japan, which proposed ideas for how psychiatry might be done differently, without relying only on diagnostic manuals and experts. But finding new methods was incredibly difficult and, in the early days of Bethel, both staff and members often struggled with a recurring problem: how is it possible to get beyond traditional psychiatric treatments when someone is still being tormented by their disabling symptoms? Tōjisha-kenkyū was born directly out of a desperate search for answers.

In the early 2000s, one of Bethel’s members with schizophrenia was struggling to understand who he was and why he acted the way he did. This struggle had become urgent after he had set his own home on fire in a fit of anger. In the aftermath, he was overwhelmed and desperate. At his wits’ end about how to help, Mukaiyachi asked him if perhaps he wanted to kenkyū (to ‘study’ or ‘research’) himself so he could understand his problems and find a better way to cope with his illness. Apparently, the term ‘kenkyū’ had an immediate appeal, and others at Bethel began to adopt it, too – especially those with serious mental health problems who were constantly urged to think about (and apologise) for who they were and how they behaved. Instead of being passive ‘patients’ who felt they needed to keep their heads down and be ashamed for acting differently, they could now become active ‘researchers’ of their own ailments. Tōjisha-kenkyū allowed these people to deny labels such as ‘victim’, ‘patient’ or ‘minority’, and to reclaim their agency.

Tōjisha-kenkyū is based on a simple idea. Humans have long shared their troubles so that others can empathise and offer wisdom about how to solve problems. Yet the experience of mental illness is often accompanied by an absence of collective sharing and problem-solving. Mental health issues are treated like shameful secrets that must be hidden, remain unspoken, and dealt with in private. This creates confused and lonely people, who can only be ‘saved’ by the top-down knowledge of expert psychiatrists. Tōjisha-kenkyū simply encourages people to ‘study’ their own problems, and to investigate patterns and solutions in the writing and testimonies of fellow tōjisha.

Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media.

Tōjisha-kenkyū quickly caught on, making Bethel House a site of pilgrimage for those seeking alternatives to traditional psychiatry. Eventually, a café was opened, public lectures and events were held, and even merchandise (including T-shirts depicting members’ hallucinations) was sold to help support the project. Bethel won further fame when their ‘Hallucination and Delusion Grand Prix’ was aired on national television in Japan. At these events, people in Urakawa are invited to listen and laugh alongside Bethel members who share stories of their hallucinations and delusions. Afterwards, the audience votes to decide who should win first prize for the most hilarious or moving account. One previous winner told a story about a failed journey into the mountains to ride a UFO and ‘save the world’ (it failed because other Bethel members convinced him he needed a licence to ride a UFO, which he didn’t have). Another winner told a story about living in a public restroom at a train station for four days to respect the orders of an auditory hallucination. Tōjisha-kenkyū received further interest, in and outside Japan, when the American anthropologist Karen Nakamura wrote A Disability of the Soul: An Ethnography of Schizophrenia and Mental Illness in Contemporary Japan (2013), a detailed and moving account of life at Bethel House. "

-Japan's Radical Alternative to Psychiatric Diagnosis by Satsuki Ayaya and Junko Kitanaka

[dianight]

Let's talk about transandrophobia. And by that I mean let me monologue about my findings browsing the tag and checking related blogs.

For context, most of my (second hand) interactions with it are from additions to the posts of transfeminists where random people antagonize them. Also from knowledge about how a certain user who helped popularize the term and gets referenced on posts about it (and other adjacent pawns) just happens to be a piledriver for callouts that just happen to target trans women. So you will excuse me for being biased and not going into this with a naive mindset.

And I will say that I've engaged with this in significantly more good faith than it deserves. My hope was that perhaps most people using the term were doing it out of ignorance and not malicious intent. I haven't really "counted" or done any actual note taking for this, it's more of a general observation that coalesced over a few days after I did all that digging so numbers are rough estimates and not accurate numbers. I checked about 50 pages on both "latest" and "top" on the tag, aswell as checking the recommended blogs.

Ignoring certain users who use the tag to highlight how absurd the mere concept of it is, since it's just mainly one woman having fun(?) cluttering (neutral) the tag and a few others mocking posts about it; we can roughly put the people who talk about transandrophobia in 3 groups. There is potential for overlap and I reiterate, my good faith is going to skew this toward a more positive vision than reality.

The first group are mostly trans men and a few trans women who would define transandrophobia as transphobia targeted at trans men, which is not at all what the term means nor what its history or actual use is. This group was around 30-40% of the posts, but one has to keep in mind that this was from going over the posts with the tag on their blogs. Posts that would talk about their experiences being the targets of transphobia and calling it transandrophobia.

Not to sound condescending, but getting treated differently to your cis peers (before coming out OR even knowing you are trans), pushback against your transition and toward the closet, bureaucratic hurdles and general hostility to being "the other" is not a transmasc exclusive thing and it's in fact "just" transphobia. Even the supposedly unique to trans men experience of having issues with reproductive health... also happens to trans women, it's the general transphobia of medical professionals. It manifests in different ways, that's it.

Most of the transmascs on this group seem to be under the impression that transandrophobia is an analogous term to transmisogyny that simply describes the targeted transphobia to transmascs and transfems respectively. I understand their posts and it was painful to read many of them, but ultimately what they describe is called transphobia. Most of the (few) transfems on this group were making additions in defense/support of trans men on those same previous posts.

That's as good as it gets though. I really hope the 30-40% estimate is real because the alternative is grim, and as a disclaimer I have (over time) blocked a massive amount of those users who go on posts about transmisogyny to start fights. Those hostile users are very likely to use the tag and be part of the second or third groups, which means that accounting for all the people I've blocked the first group percentage is likely to be <30%.

The second group are cryptoterfs. Or alternatively, people with ideas so bioessentialist that they are indistinguishable from cryptoterfs. I have found only two blogs that were openly "gc" and straight up interacting with open terfs, but many of them had their rethoric and semirelated posts all over and sometimes even the recommended blogs would give it away. Possibly 10% of the tag users belong to this group.

The main giveaway beyond the previous ones seems to be a really transphobic view that what trans men experience as transphobia is really just misogyny. So when they experience that misogyny as trans men it's called transandrophobia. Don't ask me what logic this is, but I've seen it repeated on their blogs so whatever is going on in their brains they seem to commonly agree that trans men are "just" experiencing misogyny. The obvious implication always, always being that trans men are women, a very transphobic idea.

There were some users who are part of the previously mentioned overlap. They will have some posts that tangentially allude at that trans men = women idea but never quite reblog or interact or expand those transphobic views. But they would also be part of the third group.

The third group are transmisogynists. No other way to put it. And I don't mean it in the casual way, we are all kind of transmisogynistic due to society and that's it; I mean it in the openly in opposition to transfeminists and actively spreading hateful and harmful rethoric kind of way. More than half the users of the tag are part of this group.

It's a key difference but a very telling one; where the first group talked about their experiences and how they are affected by transphobia (incorrectly labeling it) the third group engages in reactionary behaviors, always blaming/harassing/critizicing transfeminists posts. It's a genuinely weird feeling to see a post you agree with, along the lines of "men benefit from patriachy" and the "critique" from these users being "how dare these [insert misgendering term] insinuate that trans men are oppressing them".

Reading anything in bad faith, calls for "unity" while at the same reblogging from and interacting with known callout spearheads, honestly shocking hostility to trans women all over their posts and a general very open opposition to any transfeminist theory. Like I was genuinely speechless at some of the posts.

Literally calling random trans women transphobic. Screenshots without context to make it seem like the OP is saying the literal opposite of what she was saying. Congratulatory posts about getting people banned. Straight up callouts.

And I was hoping that the first group would be the majority, with a few bad apples and the expected bad actors.

My conclusion is very simple. Stop using the term transandrophobia. It has no good faith uses, what trans men experience is transphobia since misandry is not a real structural force and misogyny is. Most of its users are hostile to and a danger to trans women in this website, and somehow terf rethoric is generally accepted by them.

Transandrophobia doesn't exist.

[a-pute11as]

always you - leila ouahabi

word count - 4.4k | summary - leila was your older brother's bestfriend, but you start seeing her differently as you get older

warning - age gap (5 years)

you were young when you first met leila, really young. your family had moved to mataró, along the coast of beautiful catalonia, not far from barcelona. one of the first things your parents did was sign your older brother up for the local boys football team, your family was always the loudest on the sidelines, until leila joined the team.

her family matched yours in energy, loud cheers, homemade snacks and the sense of family from people you’d never met before. it wasn’t long until your families blended effortlessly. from meals after games to spending travel days together when football camps popped up even the occasional group holiday to some of the most beautiful destinations. 

leila easily became your brother’s best friend, the two of them bonding over practically everything. and whilst you tried to keep up with their chaos, the five-year age gap made you the perfect target for their teasing. often chasing after the ball and stumbling over your own feet, you knew football was never your strong suit, which made you the perfect person to cheer along.

so naturally, when leila left your local boy’s team to join la masia, your families support never wavered. the trips to barcelona for game days got more frequent, soon enough you were kitted out in a barcelona kit, cheering for your brother's best friend at any chance you had. 

but somewhere in your mid-teens, something shifted.

when you were 15 it was little things at first, appreciating the way she’d pop her head into your bedroom when she came over to check on you, or offering a ride if you were out with friends for the night. 

but when you were slightly older, just past your 18th birthday, you started appreciating her in a different way, your eyes would linger a little while longer when her shirt would lift slightly, or the family beach days where you’d peer under your sunglasses playing football in her bikini. 

by the time you were 22, your brother wasn’t playing football as much, turning down the ability to play in the us to study accounting. he had since moved out of your family home, with his fiance and a newborn baby to keep him busy. 

though he’d still turn up randomly, and if you were lucky, leila would be with him too. she had started paying attention to you, not just as your brother's annoying little sister, but actually to you. she’d ask questions about your life now, about university, dates, how much you enjoyed her most recent football game. 

you were already curled up when she arrived, an oversized hoodie on, bare legs tucked under a blanket, pretending to scroll on your phone but really zoning out. 

that’s when the front door opened. you heard voices, your brothers usual annoying one and one others, hers. 

“hola chiquita” she grinned, 'little one' it had been your nickname since you were little, it had never left even as you grew older.

“hey lei” you murmured, lifting your head as she walked in. 

she stopped in the doorway, her eyes sweeping over you, stretched out on the sofa, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. 

“you always take up the good spots, huh?” before you could answer, she was already making her way over, flopping directly next to you, thighs pressed firmly against yours as she stole half your blanket like she owned it.

you blinked, “you’re unbelievable.”

she hummed, adjusting the blanket with an infuriating air of comfort, “you missed me.”

“don’t flatter yourself.”

“i don’t need to, i saw the way you looked at me when i walked in.”

you rolled your eyes, a flush creeping up your neck. “delusional.”

leila leaned a little closer, her voice lower now, playful. “you were staring.”

you turned your head toward her, only to find her face closer than you expected. too close. her gaze was steady, and her lips twitched into that smug smile that drove you insane.

you opened your mouth to say something back, but your words disappeared when her hand slipped under the blanket, brushing lightly against your knee as she reached for your phone.

“let me see who you’re texting.”

“no!” you yelped, scrambling to wrestle your phone from her grip, laughing despite yourself.

leila laughed too, not trying very hard to win. “why so secretive, chiquita?”

“because you’re nosy,” you said, clutching your phone to your chest like it held the world's most important secrets.

she leaned back, her arm casually draping behind you on the back of the sofa. her fingers brushed against your hair, light, almost absentminded, but it sent a little thrill down your spine anyway.

“still teasing me like i’m fifteen,” you mumbled, more to yourself than her.

leila’s smile softened. “no,” she said quietly. “not quite like that.”

you glanced at her, heart stuttering just a little, only to be interrupted by the sound of your brother’s laugh from the kitchen.

“so you’re not coming to my match next weekend?” she asked, voice soft but with a pointed kind of pout.

you groaned, throwing your head back dramatically, “please tell me she didn’t already tell you.”

“your mami ratted you out before i even got my shoes off,” she teased, nudging you with her elbow “what’s so important you’re skipping el clásico?”.

“i’ve got to study, my finals are coming up” you explained, sending her an apologetic look.

“do it after, you have to be there” she shook her head adamantly, there was a moment of silence as you considered it “por favor, es importante,” she added, and of course all your morals went falling. 

you agreed, letting her know you’d be there. she smiled at your response, wrapping her arms around you as she pulled you into her chest and planted a small, friendly, kiss on your forehead.

in a way leila got more touchy with you, it was as if the walls that made you your brother's little sister had disappeared. but once she moved to manchester you saw less of her, there were a few trips to manchester to see her play in big games or the texts you would send her after every game without fail, but it felt different.

it felt charged.

now you were 26. you had a few girlfriends over the years but they had come and gone, they were too clingy, hated how much you loved football, or would get jealous of your interactions with the spanish defender. none of them were her. 

but when she finally came back home, you made sure you cleared your schedule to see her. this barbeque had been planned for a while, it was scheduled for one of the only time periods leila was home from manchester, being relieved she was back in the sunshine even if it was another of her flying visits. 

you were running late, you had just received your car back from the mechanic and it had already stopped working again, so at the very last minute you had to rely on the worst taxi service in town. 

“finally i’ve been waiting for you!” leila smiled, her arms wrapping around your waist as she pulled you into a hug, your arms draping around her neck. the two of you stood like that for longer than you should’ve, neither of you particularly wanting to move, “i was starting to get bored without you chiquita” she confessed.

“leila i’m not that little anymore” you laughed, pulling out of her arms, yet one hand still lingered on your back. 

“no no no, you’re still smaller than me so it still makes sense” she grinned cheekily, her hand eventually dropping from your back, your body feeling the impact of the lack of her presence. 

“my brother got the tall genes, i got the good looking ones” you laughed playfully, sending a small nudge to her arm.

“you’re joking but it’s the truth” she agreed, “he looks like a troll most of the time” she nudged her head towards your brother. he’d only got there half an hour before you but clearly the few beers he already had were having their impact as he struggling to stay awake, his wife occasionally nudging him as his eyes jolted open again. 

the two of you laughed at the sight, “but you do look really good” she commented, turning her attention back to you. 

“s-shut up” you defended, your cheeks flashing a deep red.

“no” her eyes unashamedly travelling up and down your body, her tongue flicking over her top lip before her gaze met yours, “you look gorgeous”.

there was silence between the two of you, not awkward, but not necessarily comfortable, so you decided to change the subject instead “anyways, my car broke down, again, so i had to get a taxi, which is why i’m late” you explained. 

her eyebrows furrowed as you spoke, “why didn’t you call me? or at least your brother? taxi’s are not safe chica” she shook her head, disapprovingly.

“i called him, but he didn’t answer so i assumed he was busy, and i didn’t want to bother you” you shrugged.

“you have facetimed me multiple times drunk at 3am but calling me for a ride is a bother?” she questioned, her eyebrow raising as a smirk appeared on her face. 

“i told you to forget about thattttt” you whined, your hand coming up to rub your temple. you were never really sure what you said during those facetime calls, but you knew they left you with massive hangxiety the next day. 

“i will never be able to forget about that” she laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

—

“nena why are you calling me? has something happened?” leila asked concerningly, holding up the phone as the dim lamp lit up her face, checking her alarm clock which read 4:06am.

“yes, bueno, i’m so good” she immediately knew you were drunk, “don’t hang up, i want to talk to youuuu” you slurred, a happy smile on your face as you leant back on your sofa, a similar dim light making you just about visible to leila. 

her concern quickly switched to something more relaxed, content that you were safe in your apartment and you weren’t calling to tell her you’d been kidnapped from manuelas, “did you have a good night carino?”.

“leila it was so fun! i went with some of your barcelona friends? patri and pina and some of the other girls, we had sooo much to drink!” you giggled, slipping off your shoes as you adjusted yourself so you were laying on your stomach as you propped your phone up on a pillow for leila to see you. 

“wow that’s brave of you, i remember how scared you were when you first met them” she laughed slightly, reminiscing on the memory of a much smaller version of you being scared to meet her previous teammates, yet it was only a few years ago that she was trying to set you up with one of them.

“callate, i’m a changed women now, so many girls tried to talk to me but the only person i wanted to talk to was you” you rambled, leila’s eyes widening as you spoke, “if you weren’t in stupid manchester i’d so come and see you right now” you continued, no hesitance in your voice as you confessed exactly how you felt about your brothers best friend.

that’s when leila noticed the unread texts she had from patri,

patri ❤️💙 - this girl is in love with you, i don’t know if you’re oblivious or stupid or both but what are you waiting for??

her family loves you, and i know your family love her. you better tell her how you feel soon or i will

“tell me you haven’t thought about us, not even once” you pressed, your eyes hawking at leila as she furrowed her eyes at your question, “i saw how you looked at me when we went to the beach last month, i wore that just for you”.

you watched as her breath hitched, reminiscing on the patterned blue bikini that had leila’s mind going crazy, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, “i have” she admitted a slight warriness in her tone, “but amor, you’re drunk, now is not the time for this conversation, we can talk about this another day?”.

“fine, just dont tell my brother i called you” you sighed, now standing up as you directed yourself to your bedroom.

you threw your phone down on the bed, the camera facing the ceiling as you got yourself changed into something comfier, “stay on the phone with me, por favor” you asked, tucking yourself under the covers as you looked at her with convincing eyes.

“estaré aquí, i always am” leila smiled, her heart warming as she watched you quickly flutter off to sleep, a pang of quilt hitting her chest as she realised she missed every sign you’d given her. 

—

“gilipollas” you muttered, sending a playful smack in her direction, “i’m going to say hi to our mums, are you coming?”. 

leila followed quickly behind you as you wandered to the garden table where your mums were sitting, sunhats on, wine in their hands, looking as if they’d been there for hours. 

as you approached your mum sent you a kind smile, simply raising her glass and blowing you a kiss, leila’s mum on the other hand, was on her usual mission, the same one she’d be on when you turned 24. she claimed she ‘waited too long for it to happen naturally’ so now she was determined.

“ay, por fin llegas!” she said dramatically, waving you over like a long-lost daughter. “i was just telling your mother how beautiful you look today. like a movie star. and so smart and nice unlike some of the girls leila brings home.” 

you laughed, your mum rolling her eyes fondly beside you.

“mamá” leila’s voice came from behind you, thick with warning, but her mother barely acknowledged her.

“they can’t be that bad, tía” you tried defending leila, but she was right, leila didn’t always have the best choice in women.

“no, no, i’m serious. when are you going to marry this one?” she teased, pointing between you both, “you two are always looking at each other like you’re in a telenovela” she smirked, taking another sip of her wine.

you choked on a laugh as leila’s eyes widened at her mum’s comments.

“mamá, por favor” she groaned, covering her face with one hand as her mum just laughed, leaning over to kiss both of your cheeks with a satisfied smile.

at that point leila disappeared to talk to both your dads, who were in a similar situation yet they were standing at the barbeque, your dad wearing his ‘top chef’ apron leila had bought him last christmas. 

“did you have car troubles again?” your mum asked, you simply nodded in return, this had been an ongoing problem for way longer than you’d like to admit. 

“mi niña, how many times have i told you? you need a reliable car, or even better, someone reliable to drive you.”

your eyes flicked briefly to where leila was across the garden, laughing at something your dad said. you quickly looked back.

“i tried to call my reliable brother,” you said with a smirk, “but he didn’t answer.”

leila’s mum shook her head and let out a dramatic sigh. “you should’ve called leila, she would’ve come. she always comes for you.”

you tried to hide the heat creeping up your neck, but your mum noticed, she always did. with a subtle eyebrow raise sent your way she spoke, “we’re just lucky they’re both home at the same time,” your mum said, glancing toward the garden. “leila hardly stays still long enough for us to see her anymore.”

that was a lie, you’d seen leila every month of the year so far, twice a month even when she offered you her spare bedroom in her flat when you mentioned you wanted to explore some more of manchester since your last visit. but you were sure they didn’t know that.

leila’s mum sipped her drink, eyes twinkling, "well i keep telling leila she needs to come home more’  she turned to you now, her confidence unwavering, “you’re right here, gorgeous and grown-up now, so what is she waiting for?”

you shook your head at her words, “tía please, that'll never happen”.

“don’t ‘tía please’ me,” she grinned. “i’ve seen the way she looks at you, even back when you were just a little thing running after them with a football half your size.”

you let out a groan that mirrored leila’s previous one, running your hand through your hair dramatically. leila’s mum reached over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in.

“listen to me, niña. when you two finally get your act together, i’ll be ready. i’ve already told leila i expect a wedding in the next five years”

you let out a mock gasp, “mamá ouahabi, you’re plotting our wedding?”

she just sipped her wine and smiled like a woman who knew she was right. “i’m not plotting, i’m manifesting.”

right on cue your nephew came running up to you, with sticky fingers and a face you couldn’t say no to. you excused yourself from the two of them, scooping him up in your arms as you retreated over to the picnic blanket that had been laid out and covered in his toys. 

you cleaned off his hands before settling to play with his toys, you tried not to look across the garden again. but you failed, and your eyes drifted to where leila was already watching.

she was just watching you, that look you’d only seen when she thought no one else was paying attention.

your attention snapped back when the small child made his way into your lap, your hands working their way through his dark curls as he got himself comfortable. 

but the sight of leila behind you had him occupied, “xavi just sit down” you huffed, wrestling with the abnormally strong 3 year old, yet he was incredibly determined to get what he wanted. his hands started grabbing in leila’s directions, obsessed with the spanish defender more than you were. 

you eventually got him distracted by the swing set, “tíaaa push me” he whined as he sat on the swing as if it was a throne.

“you’re so bossy” you teased, settling behind him.

you started pushing, slow at first, then higher, his giggles carrying across the garden. for a little while, it was easy to get lost in it, in the sun, the breeze, the safe little moment that smelled like grilled vegetables and sunscreen.

you didn’t hear her approach until you heard her voice, soft and familiar behind you.

“you’re really good with him” 

you turned to see leila, her hands in the pockets of her shorts, her sunglasses pushing back her hair. 

“he just likes the attention” you said with a small smile, the swing slowly coming to a stop, “and i like being his favourite auntie”.

“everyone’s talking about us you know”.

“who is everyone?”.

“your mum and my mum and basically every older woman at this barbecue.”

you laughed nervously, glancing down, “of course they are”.

“i think they’re convinced we are secretly together” the way she said it would make you think she was joking but there was a look in her eyes when you met her gaze, like she was waiting for you to say something more.

before you could reply, xavi interrupted “i’m hungry now, can we eat now”. 

with that he pushed himself off the swing, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you away from leila, a sorry look on your face as you glanced back at her. 

she later found you lounged back on a sun lounger tucked under the lemon tree, the golden light of late afternoon drawing patterns across your skin. xavi was curled up on your chest, mouth slightly open in sleep, one tiny hand gripping the fabric of your shirt. your fingers moved slowly through his hair, calming and steady, helping you feel the same.

leila paused for a second before approaching, watching you like you were everything to her, as if the sight in front of her was simply perfection.

“is that comfortable?” she asked eventually, her voice quiet so as not to wake him.

you turned your head slightly toward her, a soft smile on your lips. “it’s not the worst.”

leila perched on the edge of the sun lounger, her thigh brushed yours ever so slightly, a touch you felt more than you probably should have.

her eyes were on you.

“can i uh drive you home later?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

your fingers stilled for a beat before continuing their gentle pattern through xavi’s hair. you glanced at her, studying the nervous way her thumbs were twiddling in her lap. you’d seen her argue with refs, fight for trophies, hold her own against some of the greatest players but this version of leila felt so much softer.

“are you sure?” you asked, tilting your head, “i don’t want to bother you.”

“you never bother me, chiquita,” she said firmly, her voice full of warmth, “let me drive you home.”

a small smile crept across your face, “i really appreciate that, thank you lei”.

and then it was quiet, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. yet the garden buzzed around you but right here, under the lemon tree, it was just you and her.

your voice was barely a murmur when it finally broke the silence.

“this is nice.”

leila turned slightly, her gaze still soft, firmly focused on you. “you’ve always been good with him, i can see how much you love him.”

“he’s easy to love,” you looked down at xavi again, running your hand gently down his back.

she murmured something, something you didn’t hear but it had you looking up at her, your eyes locked on each others.

it felt like there was something to say, like a confession, or a question at the least.

but before either of you could speak, xavi shifted in his sleep and stirred, and you both blinked as if the moment had dissolved around you. leila cleared her throat, standing slowly.

“i’m going to get some water” she excused herself, her voice noticeably shakier than before.

the light blue sky had been replaced by the dim glow of the moon as the evening progressed. you had slipped away from the buzz of the dinner and found your way upstairs, needing a moment alone to breathe, saying you were grabbing one of your mum’s jackets to excuse yourself. 

you sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, taking a deep breath as you attempted to process everything that had happened. your hands ran through your hair as you took a deep breath, when all of a sudden your train of thought was interrupted by the door opening, you quickly scrambled to stand up.

no knock, just the low creak of the door opening followed by leila’s footsteps on the hardwood floor, before she closed it again.

“are you hiding?” she lilted, her usual teasing tone had reappeared as she took steps closer to you.

“me? never” you smiled, shaking your head adamantly as your eyebrow creased.

“you used to do this when we were younger too, especially when we teased you for not scoring” she laughed.

you crossed your arms across your chest, narrowing your eyes at her “you guys would call me slow, yet there was 5 years between us and you guys played for actual teams."

she reached up, squeezing your cheeks in one of her hands as you pouted, “you were always a bit of a sore loser." 

you smacked her hand away. her laughter was soft, but genuine, it made you feel safe.

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was difficult to hide, “maybe i just don’t like being ganged up by football obsessed teenagers'"

leila tilted her head slightly, her eyes softening as she looked at you. the kind of look that made you feel like she was seeing every version she had seen of you. the kid she used to tease, the awkward teenager who blushed every time she smiled, and finally whatever you were now. 

“do you ever wonder what could’ve happened if i said something sooner”.

your lips parted slightly, not sure what to say, or if there was even anything to say. your thoughts were caught between her words and the way her hand had ever so gently brushed against yours. it sent your mind spiralling. 

“all the time” you confessed, your eyes locked on hers.

your heart was pounding, and it only beat faster when you realised just how close the two of you were standing, her hand coming up to cup your cheek.

and just like that, the moment disappeared. 

the door slammed open. 

“oye!” your brother’s voice announced itself, startling both of you causing leila’s hand to drop from its place on your cheek. the loss of her touch causing your heart to sink. his eyes were glassy and his words slightly slurred, clearly a few drinks past sober. 

your brother’s eyes flickered between the two of you, he knew he interrupted something, but he wasn’t sure what, “we’re taking you home, xavi won’t leave without you so vamos, let’s go”. with that he left the room, no room for discussion as you watched him stumble down the hallway. 

leila’s jaw tensed as she stepped back, putting some space between the two of you. 

you shut your eyes briefly as you huffed in frustration, “i’m sorry this keeps happening”.

“i understand” her words said it but the look on her face was pure annoyance. 

“lo siento lei, i’ll text you i promise” she nodded slightly, leaving her standing in your mum’s bedroom as you walked away from yet another chance.

much to your reluctance, you got in the car, your sister-in-law driving as you were cramped in the back with xavi and your brother was already fast asleep in the passenger seat.

they dropped you off outside your apartment building. as soon as you closed the door your back slumped against it, taking a deep breath in, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. desperate to figure out what was going on.

your heart picked up as you saw the text from leila flash across the screen.

leila 🩵- i can’t wait, let me come see you

thank you for the request anon! as always, i appreciate any feedback, my asks are open! <3

[alicentflorent]

Something I haven’t seen people talk about is Mari’s development this season specifically regarding her not giving in to Shauna’s coercion or following the others and changing her vote.

Up until now Mari has always been on the side of who is most popular and has always been very aware of the pecking order in the group and uses this to her advantage. She seems to suck up to Jackie early on because Jackie was the most popular girl in the group but then when that changes and people get pissed at Jackie for not helping Mari turns on her and calls her out. She also joins Lottie’s cult and becomes her most outspoken follower when the majority start to believe in the wilderness to the point where she starts running her mouth and almost gets Lottie killed. She also bullies Misty who is clearly the least popular and generally the kid who gets bullied.

Then we get to the trial, Mari is visibly uncomfortable throughout and tries to keep her head down, she seems to show guilt / remorse from the moment she gives in to Shauna’s questioning and tells the girls about Ben, something she could have easily played up and used to her advantage. Shauna’s attitude towards Mari completely changes when realising she could lead them them to him, and getting back into Shauna’s good graces is the best thing for Mari. Instead she is reluctant to lead them to the cave, she tries to delay them and then she stays quiet after his capture when she could have gained all the girls support by playing the ultimate victim who escaped capture and brought Ben to justice. Then we get the vote, we see characters like Gen giving into peer pressure, Lottie and her dedicated followers change their vote but Mari doesn’t. She can see siding with Shauna is the most popular and safest choice right now. Season two Mari would have acted exactly how Melissa was acting but she refused to give in and she seems to look genuinely upset when Lottie, Travis and Akilah change their votes. She believes coach didn’t set the fire and she knows the others blame him regardless. It would be understandable for Mari to prioritise herself but for the first time she doesn’t and that’s GROWTH

[autistichalsin]

Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

[vaspider]

Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."

You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.

It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.

But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.

And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...

So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.

Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:

The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.

More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.

Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.

There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.

There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.

Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.

There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.

Further reading/sources:

[rafeysbafey]

✮ EGO BOOST — ETHAN LANDRY

SUMMARY. ethan doesn’t understand why you’re limping

WARNINGS. soft!ethan, heavy implications of sex

WORD COUNT. 0.5k

ethan had come home riled up last night, complaining about how mindy kept targeting him when the group brought up ghostface.

usually sex with ethan was pretty vanilla, not that you ever complained, so last night when he came home angry—let’s just say he went a little harder than usual.

he had you in positions you didn’t even know your body could shape into, ethan letting a few secret kinks slip out as well, this including choking.

your body was being used all throughout the night, this unknown stamina coming out of nowhere with ethan.

so when you woke up sore, legs shooting with pain and neck aching from the grip he had on it, you weren’t surprised to why this was happening.

you were cuddled up in ethan’s arms, half the boys body weight practically engulfing yours as he laid sound asleep.

his face was tucked away in your neck, soft snores leaving his lips causing his breath to tickle your skin.

waking up with the need to pee, you slipped yourself out of his grip and sat yourself up—realizing you were dressed in only ethan’s T-shirt and a pair of panties.

you went to stand up but immediately hissed in pain, your hand jolting out to grab the nightstand as you stood there with shaking legs.

‘this is new,’ you thought to yourself before making your way to the bathroom.

you were only halfway across the room—limping slowly in order not to cause any additional pain—when you heard ethan stir awake.

he had watched you make your way over with worrying eyes, quickly standing up and making his way over to your limping figure.

“are you hurt? baby, what happened?” he asked hurriedly, concern laced in his voice as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

you leaned on him for support, a giggle leaving your lips as you peered up at him.

“eth, are you serious?”

his brows furrowed together as he asked again what was wrong, your heart melting at the thought of ethan genuinely not knowing why you couldn’t walk.

“you did this,” you said, confusion still present on his features as you continued, “last night.”

it only took a second before ethan’s face had blushed a deep red, a shy grin on his face as he looked down at you.

“I did this?”

“duh.”

you started to walk so he followed, letting you rest your weight on him as he helped you into the bathroom.

“i didn’t know i had that in me,” he mumbled, arm retreating from your waist to allow you to sit on the toilet.

you winced slightly at the feeling before looking up at him, a certain look on your face as you let out a sigh.

“trust me, neither did i.”

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

own 2 cents about cure autism

autism cure research, generally not coming from point of, those with it wanting to improve life this way. but more so—people around them believe it what they want it what they need it improve life, and, uncured autism seen as … difficult for people around them, expensive for government to provide services, take up resources in medical places, etc.

majority autistic people *in actually autistic community, who understand this topic, & can talk about their opinion* don’t want whole cure

there not-small-group of autistic people who cannot reliably tell you what they think about this, or in way that easily understood (can’t communicate, can’t understand, etc). they need be remembered in this conversation (& arguably centered… bc they gonna be more affected. see below)

having said that. there exist autistic people of all types who would want cure for own autism. out of those have seen myself, majority of them [high support needs / nonverbal or level 2/3 or diagnosed severe or significant symptoms of some sort] whose life extremely different from peers because of it (& like majority of their problem not caused by “society” & won’t disappear if society & capitalism not exist anymore). it how they feel about their own autism, n feel counterproductive in “educating” them about their own (clearly personal and upset) feeling about what they want do with own disorder, especially since they not funding cure research or whatever. but—

autism, developmental disability that start in childhood, famous for be the “be treated as can understand and make own decisions” and “have autonomy respected” and “not ever forced coerced do anything” and “not force abusive therapy to make them appear ‘normal’ ” disorder. (sarcasm) — don’t really believe we as society are at place where we would actually respect “only for people who want it. won’t force it on people who not want it”.

aka. if cure is post-natal, AKA happen after birth… they will directly or indirectly force cure on autistic people

force post-natal autism cure will disproportionately impact those who… higher support needs, diagnosed level 2/3, diagnosed moderate severe, diagnosed low functioning, diagnosed comorbid intellectual disability or global developmental delay, diagnosed comorbid genetic developmental disability, nonverbal… diagnosed children, in conservatorship, ward of state, in prison, generally not fully legally allowed have final say in decision making… visibly autistic, have/said to have severe behavioral issues, BIPOC especially Black people… (incomplete list)

which. not to say autistic people who not any of these won’t be affected at all. because will. but as a whole, people on that list as a collective group, will be more impacted, more coerced, more forced, even won’t be given choice, to take cure (maybe won’t even be told was given cure), over people not on that list as a whole.

am going emphasize that autism is developmental disorder that start in childhood & children get diagnosed with it & children legally not final say in make decision & children very easily talked into agreeing without full informed decision & those diagnosed as children more likely be [higher support needs / nonverbal / more significant symptoms] (EDIT: at time of diagnosis) because those most noticeable earliest + global developmental delay then catch up later on happens (to vastly simply it to a fault, quoting someone, “no shit they high support needs, they children.”)

can also see welfare slowly not covering uncured autistic people, insurance decrease / deny / make harder coverage for autism related services other than cure, schools & esp special education less support for autism, etc. general official resources for autism decreasing (which. not much to begin with even pre-cure), which again impact all autistic people but especially list above… oh and poor people. can also see stuck in limbo of “will not get support & welfare if uncured autistic, but no money to cure” because this shit will be expensive

when this much at stake (aka if there no resource for keep be autistic, n resources locked away only able get after cure), when big percentage of autistic people cannot reliably show informed consent in some way (cannot reliably communicate, cannot reliably show they understand, or literally not allowed have decision capacity legally, etc)… if an autistic person say yes they agree. actual willing yes? not coerced? not misled? not forced into it?

autism & autistic people (& by extension, care people they depend on) don’t have enough support to begin with. in this current reality without cure lol. can we focus on that too pour as much money in that too — let’s not talk autism’s inherent quality of life until you give all autistic people as much care as they need & for it be freely n easily available

don’t really think current science have enough tech & resource cure autism like this. autism is complex disorder with complex sources & hard to say if current what called “autism” based on behaviors & internal reported symptom not actually group of different disorders.

if cure pre-natal (e.g genetic identification & abortion. anti choice unkindly DNI) - see: down syndrome

however: finding genetic cause =/= cure. find genetic cause can easily lead to find cure research. but should be clear that they not equal to eachother, not automatic mean eachother.

um. missing many things probably

TL;DR. don’t think right now society at place where… have widespread enough, nuanced enough, critical enough, & enough awareness/acceptance/understanding of ALL autism (and disability as a whole).

enough support for autistic people for autism-related needs & general needs (financial, food, etc).

world where autistic people who can make own decisions about self actual able make own decision about self, & world where autistic people who genuinely can’t (for now or ever) actually protected from harm

and honestly don’t think we have enough scientific and medical advancement/knowledge/ability

etc

to actually make sure this won’t go haywire

.

idk if anyone can follow this

autism issue is disability justice is cross-movement justice. autism issue depends on liberation of so many groups of people (like welfare reform, prison reform) 👍

follow up

[tojisteddy]

reader! who’s stuck in a rom com x male lead John Price cw: meet cute, sfw

reader! who’s stuck as a back up character with one single line in rom com and keeps getting transported to different movies. And they’ve tried to get out of whatever simulation or timeline they’re in. Trust me, your favorite narrator, you’ve tried. From going against the script by interrupting the main cast when they’re about to say their line, or showing up drunk or just plain not showing up to the important scenes multiple times but nothing ever workers.

Reader decides to just play their role in every movie theyre thrown into, praying to whatever higher power is out there to save them. But their true personality pops out as soon as theyre alone. All is fine and well with the world until the main male lead, John Price, starts noticing readers little quirks.

Reader mouthing everything the the other characters are about to say, rolling their eyes at the female leads choices she makes even when the friend group they’re apart of is supposed to be supporting her, or the funny way they say their one, singular line and John can’t help but laugh on the inside because, what the fuck is going on with them? Why are they acting like that?

Was he missing something?

And one day he decides to ask the reader about it. And maybe it’s your 10th time running through John’s movie, so you’re completely zoned out to what’s actually happening around you because you know it like the back of your heart— some party scene, the female lead has dragged you to again and John is supposed to be arguing/flirting with her at the bar for the soon to be montage of them proving each other wrong. Blah, blah, blah. Instead, he comes next to you on the lounge seat you’re sitting on; whiskey in hand, the big, muscular, handsome bear sits next to you and you barely notice him.

You still keeping your eyes on the bar, anticipating the interaction you’ve seen plenty of times, peering through the dancing randoms who are never important. Nursing your second glass of wine because you had to have something in your system to go through any of this agin. You feel a tap on the shoulder, your eyes meeting the prettiest ocean blue eyes.

“Who are you looking for?” His voice is so utterly perfect, rustic and deep, just like it is when he’s talking to the female lead. But your head snaps from him to the bar and back to him. Then back to the bar and back to him. The most confused look forming on your face. You can’t even make up an answer to maybe get him back to the script because you’ve never been actually acknowledged by the male lead in any movie.

“That’s not apart of the script.” You say, words haughty as ever.

And oh— John Price likes that. In fact, he adores your voice and the way your tight outfit clings to your frame and that you gave the most arbitrary answer to his very simple question.

Congratulations reader! The director is finally changing its cast members— time for you to be the main character.

a/n: idk if anyone will like this but it was on my mind cause I thought I had writers block. This was a good break. Reader! I’m gonna get you outta those movies!! Idk how yet, but I’m gonna try!!

last post masterlist

[i-dared-myself]

Protecting In Small Ways

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: my request is ot8x 9th member, where skz is protective of their maknae (not the jealous type of protection, but like when they're going to pick something under the table and sb put the hand on the corner, and fans catch on that 

Reader is gender-neutral and their only description is that they had a nut allergy and pass out at blood.

You were younger than them, yes, but they still treated you equally. They were respectful and polite, and you had grown to be close friends with them all.

The fans adored you and wished you nothing but the best. It was an unofficial understanding that nothing bad could be said about you.

Even Dispatch didn’t mess with you. The fans and the rest of Stray Kids would go on a killing spree if it happened.

The one time that Dispatch tried to get up in your face, the group had immediately taken action. Security wasn’t even needed, because all eight idols surrounded you like a shield.

“What are you doing?” you ask as Changbin pushes through the crowd. Jeongin links arms with you and Felix starts murmuring greetings to cameras to distract them.

Another Dispatch camera is shoved into your face and it hits your nose. You let out a little yelp, and Chan steps in front of you, expression furious.

“Hello,” he says, forcing a tight smile. He grabs your forearm and maneuvers you behind you so that you’re out of view of the flashing cameras. “Busy airport today, isn’t it?”

You bring your hand up to your nose, catching sight of blood smeared across your fingers. you don’t like blood, and instantly get lightheaded. “Chan.”

Chan glances back at you, eyebrows drawing together. He motions to Minho, who swoops in to catch you.

“Dizzy,” you slur to Minho, staring up at him. His arms are looped under your forearms, supporting your weight.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles to you, dragging you through the crowd. “You’re okay.”

The next thing you know, you’re in a van and Seungmin is pressing a hand to your forehead. He notices you blinking up at him and smiles softly.

“How do you feel?” he questions, bringing a tissues up to your nose. He wipes at whatever remaining blood is there and hides the tissue from your line of sight.

“Better.” You reach up a hand for him, and he takes it in his own. “Is… Is everything okay?”

“Dispatch was kindly told to give you space for next time,” Hyunjin tells you with a smirk. “It won’t be an issue next time.”

“Okay, thank you,” you softly say as the van begins to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re seated at the end of the table at the signing. You greet each fan with an enthusiastic wave and a bright smile. Changbin ruffles your hair as he walks to his spot, mumbling about how cute you are.

“I’m not cute!” You pout up at him before turning to the fan sitting across from you. “Am I?”

They smile and cover their mouth to hide a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“Argh!” you exclaim, crossing your arms. Minho leans over and pinches your cheek. 

“Don’t ruin their makeup!” Jisung chides Minho with a waggle of his finger. 

“Yeah,” you taunt, sticking your tongue out at Minho. He glowers at you, and you regret it. “Sorry…”

The fan giggles, apparently amused by your antics. You turn back to them, the motion causing a paper to slip off the table. You lean down to pick it up and straighten, only to hit your head.

But Minho’s hand is in the way, blocking the edge of the table from hurting you. He’s looking away, still conversing with the fan seated across from him.

You place the sheet of paper back on the table, smiling at your fan. “They’re always doing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone gathers around the table, pulling out the containers of food you had ordered. Most night were takeout nights, since there wasn’t a lot of time to cook.

“What did you get?” Felix asks you, peering over at your meal. 

You open the box to show him, pushing it over to him slightly. “Doesn’t it look good?”

Jeongin picks up his utensils, looking up at you eagerly. “Can I try some?”

You nod, shoving the box just a bit closer to him. He scoops up a bite and chews it, humming.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Jeongin says before his forehead creases. “Felix… Taste it.”

“Don’t be stealing all of my food!” you protest as Felix takes a bite as well. You attempt to take the box back, but Jeongin tugs it closer to himself.

“I think this has nuts in it,” Felix comments. “Yeah, you shouldn’t eat this.”

Your nut allergy was not severe, but they still took no risks. They all took a portion of your meal and slide part of their dinner onto a plate for you.

“Better not to take the chance,” Chan says to you, putting the new plate down in front of you.

“But you have your medication, right?” Changbin worriedly asks. “Just in case something happens?”

“Yes,” you tiredly say, shaking your head fondly. 

They tried their best to protect you, even in the smallest ways.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @strawberryscentedd @lezleeferguson-120 @mbioooo0000

[just-a-ghost00]

What they wish to tell you

Decks used : I don't care oracle, White Numen tarot, Spirit Junkie oracle

Group 1 ⭐️

"My productivity stems from inspiration. When I focus on what brings me joy, my tasks become effortless actions." The Moon, 4 of pentacles, 5 of cups, Abuse of power rx, Party in your heart, Surprise rx

They wish to tell you that they're afraid and unhappy. That they feel powerless within this connection. They feel like they've lost all chances of being with you and that scares them. I get a lot of sadness from this spread. Sadness and regret. They feel unsafe. Like all the fun has been taken away from them. They can't seem to rejoice about the things they used to like or to marvel at life. They have a hard time focusing on daily tasks, seeing the glass half full. They feel uninspired, unmotivated, lost because things aren't as they used to be. They feel like you've changed, whether that's the truth or not. They feel disconnected from you, from people in general. They have a hard time thinking positively. I feel like they struggle with mental health issues at the moment. At the back of each deck we have The High Priestess, Dopamine ? Dopa-go ! & My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me. This person feels like they are not supported by the people around them. They have lost the will to fight for what makes them happy, what they believe in. They're going through a dark night of the soul and they're in a lot of confusion right now. That's also something they try to hide from people around them, including you. They put on a façade but the truth is they wish they could tell you how empty they feel without you. This person wishes they could go back to the times where things weren't as complicated and they could enjoy themselves freely. This person feels like they cannot be themselves freely with their loved ones. For some of you, the person you're thinking of may struggle with their sense of identity. I was picking up on the LGBTQIA2S+ community. For some of you, if your person is a masculine, they may struggle with expressing their feminine side because of societal expectations or pressure from family. I was specifically picking up on Drag Queens and Kings. But more than that I just feel like your person is currently struggling to find their path in life and may be questioning themselves a lot. Which is a very tiring and uncertain time of their life. And they wish they could talk about it with you but for some reason they struggle to do so. Their heart feels very guarded. They are very insecure right now. They have a hard time showing compassion to their own self for what they are experiencing. They may be blaming themselves a lot when they have nothing to be ashamed of. I feel like if this person could change their surroundings maybe they wouldn't be going through such a difficult phase.

Group 2 🍾

"I accept the gifts I've been given as a high service to the world." Death, The Chariot, 3 of swords, Stop doing so much, There's no planet B! , Stand up for yourself rx

The person on your mind wishes to tell you that they feel stuck career wise and they don't know where they stand anymore. This person doesn't feel happy with their professional life as of now and they are afraid to leave whatever situation they're in because they have no idea where they would go or what they would do in such case. This person feels like they don't have what it takes to start over again. They wish they could move on and find something better, get closer to you possibly but they lack the strength and courage to do so. This person feels burnt out by their responsibilities and engagements. They're also afraid of criticism from their peers. On the back of each deck we have knight of swords & Close your eyes, close the curtains and sleep & "Attacking others is an attack on myself. I choose to release this now." They wish to tell you that they do not dare to speak up their mind for fear of rejection. They're afraid of their own light and power, as well as the effects their choices would have on the people around them. They're afraid of the unknown, of "losing" what they're used to. They're afraid of change. They're losing sleep over the fact that no matter how hard they try, no matter how much they think about it, they can't seem to find a way out or a way to change the outcome. On one hand, they know that where they're at right now is detrimental to them. But on the other hand, they feel like if they left whatever situation they're in right now, they would be wasting something beautiful and they could not go back. This person is afraid of taking responsibility and they feel very bad about themselves right now. They're in a dilemma and though they sincerely wish to put an end to this cycle, they can't seem to get themselves out of it. They wish they could tell you how exhausted they are and how hurt they are but they keep it to themselves because they do not wish to burden you with their struggles. Also, for some of you, your person sees you working really hard for your dreams and they're afraid that you're overworking yourself. They wish you would take the time to rest and take care of yourself.

Group 3 🎀

"My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me." 10 of wands, 2 of wands, The Magician, I dare to declare my love, Please leave a message, Spread the love

I really like the energy of this spread. It's such a stark contrast to the other groups. They wish to tell you that, though they have a lot on their plate, you do not leave their mind and they still have a lot of hope for your connection. You are a source of motivation and inspiration to them. You are the reason why they get up in the morning and do their best every day. They wish to tell you that whatever you are going through, they still appreciate you and care for you. That should you need them, even if they're busy with their own things to deal with, they'll make time and space for you, to comfort you and guide you. They wish to tell you that you are so dear to them and that they're working really hard to be able to be closer to you. That may be true especially for those of you that are in a long distance connection. This person hopes to travel so that they can meet you. They're constantly day dreaming about you. They wish to tell you that you're all they care about and that they only have eyes for you. At the back of each deck we have Ace of pentacles, You are here & "Compassion is my compass. I am willing to hold space for the experience of others." The "You are here" card show an arrow pointing to the Earth from an outer space perspective and the Earth is right at the center of the galaxy from that angle. So they wish to tell you that you're at the center of their Universe. You occupy their thoughts at every moment of their life. I get the same vibe from the compassion card. They are willing to adapt and change things in their life so that you can better fit into their world. With this ace of pentacles, they wish to tell you that they would like to start anew with you or give your connection a new turn by making you an offer. I feel like this person would like to be in a relationship with you, regardless of what people may think and despite the challenges this may rise. It's like, no matter what, they're willing to make it work because you mean so much to them. Honestly this is so sweet.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (1)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I recently watched the Twilight Saga for the first time and fell in love with it but I noticed there's not a lot of recent fics so I decided to make them! This doesn't follow the twilight series exactly but the elements and settings are still the same. Everyone is aged up (I mean does Edward really need to be tbf). If this gets enough feedback in my inbox and comments I will continue but this is mainly a tester to see how it does!

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is moving in the middle of the school year. But, what they never talk about is how hard it is to move once you’ve just graduated. Friend groups are already established and due to college, no one is looking to meet anyone new until they’re off to whichever university they’ve decided to attend.

You, however, weren’t off to university. You knew it wasn’t right from you. Your parents supported your decision. In fact, they were thrilled…but not for the reasons you originally thought. Your dad wanted to move back to his home town of Forks, Washington and your mom, being a lover of nature, thought it was the perfect change of scenery. According to the conversation they had with you, it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either. Your dad had gotten a job as head surgeon and your mom had bought a space to turn into the bakery she had dreamed of owning for years. It was something they had been wanting to do for years but due to the fact you were doing so well in school, they hadn’t wanted to rip you away from that. 

Part of you, the part of you that didn’t want to admit it to yourself, wish that they had. Maybe then you’d have a better chance at your 20s not being so lonely in a town that so far on the drive from the airport, seemed to be desolate and void of any youth. But, it wasn’t all bad. With all the greenery and nature, you’d be able to focus on growing your powers more.

You came from a long lineage filled with powerful and strong witches, your mother being one of them. On your thirteenth birthday, your powers finally presented themselves and everything began to make sense for you. You had always felt different from your peers and having the confirmation that you were healed something in you. Your mom had been mentoring you and through her, you had learned so much over the years. As your eyes gazed out the rain littered car window, focusing on the ocean of trees that passed in a blur, one thing she had said stuck out to you the most. ‘A witch is at her strongest when surrounded by nature’. 

Every weekend, she used to drive 6 hours there and back to a small patch of woods outside of the city. But now, you had access to the forest in any direction you looked.

“I’m thinking of starting a garden in the yard, (Y/n/n), what do ya think?” your mom asked, causing your head to turn in her direction. Her body was turned back to face you, the small wrinkles near her mouth creasing as she grinned. She always had an air of vibrancy and brightness to her that made you question if you were even related sometimes. It was like you could practically feel her emotions buzzing off of her and piercing into your heart. You hummed mulling over your response, turning your attention back to your window, watching as the trees slowly began to turn into homes the further you drove into town.

“Sounds good.” you responded. Your limited word choice was something you had gotten from your father. He wasn’t as introverted as you were, but he only spoke when he found the conversation particularly interesting. And when it came to his wife, he found everything interesting.

“I think that’s a great idea, honey! There’s a lot of space at the house and I know if anyone can make it magical, it’s you.” You watched in the rear view mirror as his eyes flickered towards your mom, full of admiration. Your mom giggled at his small joke, shoving his shoulder in a playful manner. “Maybe in the spring, you could get some fruit growing, use it in your bakery.”

“Why wait till spring? I could do it now with the flick of a finger.” she mused, holding out her palm. Golden sparks hovered above it, swirling in a circular motion. Your dad smiled at her, shaking his head as he pulled into a driveway which you assumed was your new home. Sticking your head out the window, you looked up at it in awe.

In the city, your house was a lot smaller. Lots of identical homes sandwiched far too close together for your liking. But this house, it had character. Faded green framework, a bay window, and a semi wrap-around porch. You noticed a window on the second story, a small balcony attached to it. In your mind you had already claimed it. The slamming of the van door broke you out of your brewing daydream. Looking on the lawn, you internally groaned as you saw people. Just what you wanted to see after a 7 hour car ride. Before you could duck down and pretend you couldn’t exist, your dad turned his head, shaking it as if he could predict what you were about to do.

“(Y/n), come meet my friends!” he called to you. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan closer to your body before hopping out the back seat, stretching your arms as the snap, crackled, and popped. You were finally able to get a good look at the people on your lawn. An older white man with brunette hair, and a thick mustache. Another in a wheelchair, with long, thick black hair, a cowboy hat perched on his head. You recognized them from the pictures from your dad’s office. “These are my old buddies, Billy Black and Charlie Swan. We grew up together!” he explained. Putting on your best smile, you stuck your hand out, shaking each of their respective hands.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both after hearing dad talk my ears off about you for years.” You joked, causing both men to chuckle. 

“If it makes you feel any better, your dad’s always bragging about ya, kid.” Charlie said. You smile slightly at your dad as he tells you that. Your dad has never been a stranger of telling you how proud he is of you, so it doesn’t shock you that much but it’s still nice to hear it.

“Enough chatting, how’s bout I grab some beers from the cooler and we can start unpacking this uhaul? We’ve got some time but let me tell ya’, the Mrs. does not pack light.” Your dad speaks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the trunk. You hear the sound of ice shuffling as he grabs a few beers out, cracking them open on the side of the car.

“Everything has value, David! You’ll be thanking me when it saves you the money!” Your mom says from the open door, huffling as she grabs another box from the porch, carrying it further into the house. Shaking your head, you smile some. At least some things haven’t changed.

After a while, you finally got all of your boxes into your new room. The one with the balcony as you had hoped. All your heavier furniture was still on the lawn as Mr.Black had informed you his son would be coming soon to bring it up for you. In the meantime, you had time to put your other things up. Standing in the middle of the room, you close your eyes, focusing your mind for a bit as your body begins to levitate, just barely hitting the high ceilings. Waving your hand, your rolled up rug unfolds placing itself in the middle of your room. You squint your eyes until you’re able to locate the box labeled ‘books’, hovering your hand in their direction. You move it to the built-in bookshelves on the wall, all of your books organizing themselves perfectly. Magic has its perks. 

You decide to go for the books next until there’s a knock on your door startling you. You fall to the ground with a loud thud, groaning as the door swings open. Looking up, your body grows warm at the sight in front of you. There’s a taller boy around your age, shirtless with your mattress under one of his arms. Due to his lack of shirt, you’re able to take in every inch of his chiseled chest and the tattoo on his arm. You recognized the symbol from one of the spellbooks your mother showed you but couldn’t recall the meaning. As you pry your eyes away from his torso, you’re able to focus on his face which is somehow even better than what you were just looking at. Gorgeous brown eyes, thick brows, and pretty pink lips. He was somehow rugged and cute at the same time but you had no time to focus on that as he dropped your mattress on the ground, pulling you up with ease.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a concerned tone. You looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat as you backed away from his hold.

“Fine. Just tripped over this stupid rug.” You mumbled. He looks you up and down, laughing as he returns to the mattress, lifting it with ease. Almost too much. He leans it against the wall furthest from you before returning to the doorway. He smiles at you, throwing you a subtle wink.

“Just in case. I’ll be back with the rest, try not to hurt yourself in the meantime.” He teases, gone just as quickly as he came. You stand frozen in place, listening as he makes his way down the stairs, the sounds of his steps fading. Once you were sure he was gone, you walk over to the balcony doors, stepping out into the chilly fall air. You let out a groan as you lean over it, playing with the idea of jumping off. At least you wouldn’t be able to embarrass yourself any further. 

2

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 9. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A/N: Long time no see... It has been almost two months since the last chapter but here it is! I had planned to finish this after Christmas but I was sick for the rest of the vacation TT. This chapter isn't that full of action, but it has some important details. Word count: 3 453

There you were, sitting in a circle on the floor like in kindergarten, gathered around a board game. As if the setting hadn’t reminded you of your early childhood enough already, the guys you were sitting with were making it even more nostalgic with their childish fighting. 

“No, Wooyoung! You can’t move four spaces when the dice shows only two!” San exclaimed, grabbing Wooyoung’s token from the game board, which was a single macaroni found from the floor. He moved the token two steps behind from where Wooyoung had set it.

Yeosang and you exchanged concerned glances as San and Wooyoung started arguing about the macaroni’s rightful place. You were still feeling quite bitter about Wooyoung presenting your menstrual pad to everyone earlier during the day, so you hoped San would win the battle. 

Unfortunately, suddenly Yeosang and San’s dry macaroni pieces were snatched from the board, and disappeared into Wooyoung’s mouth. All three of you watched in horror as Wooyoung swallowed them before turning to look at you. 

With a creepy grin on his lips, he leaned closer to you. In return you leaned slightly away, enough to not feel his breath on your skin but to keep it polite, but you couldn’t escape from Wooyoung’s intense gaze challenging you. 

“It looks like you and I are the only ones left in the game, baby,” he smirked. 

You wondered how you got into the situation of playing with macaronis with grown men. The plan for the night had been to sleep at Yeosang’s place, so you wouldn’t have to sit in front of your front door, waiting for morning and the locksmith to arrive. In an area like that, you never felt safe even in your own apartment building at night. 

But you didn’t feel exactly safe now either. Yeosang was your friend, trustworthy enough for you to sleep at his place, but surprisingly there was an addition of two men, both from the infamous therapy group. Apparently, they had come there earlier to have a game night with Yeosang. If they stayed the night, you couldn’t guarantee you’d ever wake up again. Or if they were merciful enough to let you live, your head would have been shaved bald like a bright bowling ball – most likely from Wooyoung’s suggestion. 

“I don’t want to play anymore,” San huffed after he had been forcefully kicked out from the game. 

Yeosang nodded his head, “Me neither. Let’s do something else.” 

The macaroni-devourer man frowned, ready to throw a fit, “You’re just sore losers. Y/N and I can play although you two are bad at this game.” 

You wanted desperately to do something else, afraid of what could happen when the game was only between you and Wooyoung. His eyes were fixed on you like San and Yeosang’s macaronis weren’t the only thing he wanted to eat – you'd be the next one swallowed. 

“I-I think changing the activity is a good idea,” you muttered. 

Wooyoung couldn’t do anything when all three of you were against him.  

He wasn’t complaining for long though when he got the permission, not from you but Yeosang and San, to spread home-made facial mask on you. Your bottom was hurting from sitting on the floor for so long, but you kept silent; San would probably volunteer as your official chair, setting you on his lap, if you said a word. 

The room was dim, and there was relaxing music for meditation playing on the background, failing to ease your nerves. Wooyoung’s face was way too close to yours; if you leaned a little closer, you would be able to kiss his pretty lips. He was rubbing the facial mask on your cheeks, squeezing them together until your lips pursed. 

“You look like a duck,” Wooyoung stated. 

The frown he got from you as response made him chuckle, “A cute one. My pretty little duckling.” 

You could see Yeosang and San, who were doing facial masks for each other, looking at you, listening intently every word that left Wooyoung’s lips and watching your reactions. It felt like they were evaluating you, but you had no idea what was the correct reaction they wanted. 

“Eyes on me.” 

Quickly, you turned your gaze back on Wooyoung, who was looking at you much more seriously now. It was for a second only when his eyes were stern and void of any light, but then he smiled mischievously again. The hand which had tightened around your cheeks went back to spreading the mask on your face. The way he massaged you would have made you relaxed if it wasn’t for the crazed look on his face just a moment ago. 

Were you just overthinking? It wasn’t unusual of you to see people’s expressions and gestures as alarming. A smile from a stranger passing by was the grin of a psychopath planning how to kill you, and a baby looking at you in the queue was a robot sent to spy on you, its eyes serving as cameras, filming your every move. 

You recognized those thoughts as insane; robot babies couldn’t look that real after all. 

“Is it done?” you asked Wooyoung when he took his hands off of your face. 

“Close your eyes and lean your head back for me, would you?” 

If it had been just the two of you, you would have never put yourself into a position of vulnerability in front of Wooyoung. Even blinking was too risky when that menace was close to you. 

However, San and Yeosang would hopefully protect you if Wooyoung tried anything. You followed his request and let your eyes close. 

Soon something wet weighed on your eyelids, and you could only guess Wooyoung had placed slices of cucumber. 

“Voila! Master Wooyoung has finished his masterpiece,” you could hear the man clasp his hands together, “Time for the payment.” 

“I thought this was free!” 

“Oh, come on. I don’t need much.” 

Suddenly, you could feel his breath tickling your ear. It had been a mistake to close your eyes, considering that man was capable of anything – except when it came to things that required thinking sanely. 

Your body tensed up, sitting straighter and fists clenched in nervousness. 

“I just need a little kiss. Show those two that I have your full attention.” 

Wooyoung’s whisper was warm on your skin but it still made goosebumps rise. The words shouldn’t have shocked you, given the fact they were said by him. They could have been considered attractive by someone, but you knew better – at least you thought so. 

“Please. Even on the cheek. Just a small peck.” 

 Wooyoung pressed his face into your hair, sniffing it. As you tried to lean away from him, he grabbed your head and brought it back to his nose. He definitely took his time filling his nostrils with your scent, every breath out making your skin tingle. 

“Smells...” he spoke, “Smells like shit. Go take a shower, girl.” 

Just like that the intense moment had been cut off. You took the cucumber slices off of your eyes to look at Wooyoung who was grinning widely. You weren’t the only one glaring at him, since Yeosang and San had heard his insult too. 

“Watch your mouth,” to your surprise it was Yeosang who warned Wooyoung. He looked even madder than you or San who was often the more confrontative one. 

Still, you were embarrassed by Wooyoung’s comment, fearing that you were stinky for real. As you moved away from him to sit with Yeosang and San, his grin fell downwards, now a worried pout. 

“Y/N, come back here,” Wooyoung whined. 

“No. If I’m so smelly, you should be happy I’m staying far away from you.” 

If you hadn’t felt bad for him, seeing his sad, regretful eyes, you would have felt proud. Finally, you had defended yourself – in some sense at least. 

Unfortunately, him and San had decided to stay for the night. Wooyoung was sentenced to sleeping on the floor without a mattress for insulting your scent, while San got the second worst option, couch, not because he did anything wrong though. 

You felt awkward, wearing Yeosang’s t-shirt and sweatpants as nightwear. He had generously lent them, so you wouldn’t feel bad about sleeping on his bed with the clothes you had been wearing during the day. Wooyoung’s comment had left you afraid of being stinky. 

Yeosang made sure you had climbed onto the bed comfortably before turning the lights off and settling in the bed with you. Both of you stayed silent, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang and you were close, having spent quite a lot of time together, but being this close physically was nerve-wracking. Perhaps not in a bad way. 

“You don’t reek, Y/N. Your smell is very pleasant.” 

His quiet assurance surprised you but eased your fears, which Wooyoung had brought back on surface with his careless comment. It hadn’t been the first time you were called stinky. “Sweaty sock – Y/N” was what the other kids had called you. Was it really your fault if your parents had been too poor to buy you more than three pairs of socks? 

Yeosang and you fell asleep after some time of quietly conversing, sharing your concerns and thoughts about who might have stolen your keys. Some people would have told you that you just forgot them on the floor, but Yeosang disagreed; he was on your side like always. 

It was dark so there was no use to even opening your eyes. Still, they fluttered open in the middle of the night as you were woken up by the hot puffs of air hitting the nape of your neck. In and out, you could hear someone breathing heavily. Goosebumps rose on your skin. 

An arm was slung around your waist, holding onto you tight. It was a vulnerable position, not seeing who had trapped you in their excuse of an embrace. But you had a feeling who it could be. 

“W-Wooyoung?” 

“I’m flattered you knew it was me.” 

You sighed in relief, not necessarily because Wooyoung was supposedly a safe person, but he probably wouldn’t have the balls to murder you when Yeosang was sleeping next to you. 

“You know, I could do anything to you right now.” 

Never mind. He was a man capable of everything. 

Wooyoung’s arms tightened around you, his hand finding its way to touch the place on your chest where your heart lied, not too deep away from your skin. It raced like it would explode in your chest any moment now. 

“I was too scared to sleep alone, but based on your heartbeat it seems like you’re the one more scared,” he chuckled. 

“Could you rather cuddle with Yeosang?” 

The silence that followed your words was threatening; it hung in the air, thick and tense. Wooyoung’s breaths felt heavier on the nape of your neck. It was clear you had said something wrong. 

“Don’t be silly. Why would you want me to cuddle with someone else?” 

“Because I’m uncomfortable.” 

You could feel Wooyoung almost flinching at your words, but you couldn’t understand. Did he really think you wanted him to cuddle with you? The two of you didn’t know each other well, not to mention he called you stinky, so you had no desire to be close to him despite being quite touch-starved. 

“But I’m scared.” 

“What are you scared of?” 

Wooyoung stayed silent for a couple seconds like he was hesitant, but then he spoke. 

“I’ve been receiving weird phone calls, letters, and text messages.” 

The man’s revelation caught your interest. You didn’t like hearing the word ‘letters’ at all, but this could be a lead to what you had experienced before Jongho’s disappearing. 

“Tell me more, please.” 

Wooyoung sighed, sounding relieved that you didn’t dismiss his experiences, “They are practically all the same. Phone calls, letters, text messages... they all tell me the same date. Nothing more.” 

So, Wooyoung’s letters didn’t have any proper writing there. Therefore, you couldn’t compare the handwriting in your letters to the one on his. Maybe you could check if the letters had been written with the same pen. 

“Can you show me one of those letters?” 

“I don’t have pictures of them,” despite not being able to see him, the smirk on Wooyoung’s face was obvious from his voice, “But you could come to my place, and I’ll show you.” 

That didn’t sound like fun time at all. You’d step nowhere near Wooyoung’s apartment if you didn’t have strong men like San or Yeosang for protection. Or Jongho. Jongho who had been missing for quite a while already, disappeared like he never had even existed in your life. 

“Can’t you bring the letters somewhere public?” 

Wooyoung sounded pouty when you refused his offer, “Oh, come on. I’ll cook something for you. A sensual, romantic dinner without Jongho tossing plates at everyone.” 

You didn’t know whether to chuckle or get sad just at the thought of Jongho. Most of all, you were just left surprised. 

“You know about that?” 

“Of course I know. Yeosang shares everything and everyone with us,” Wooyoung giggled, squeezing your waist. 

He knew just how to sound as creepy as possible; you weren’t even sure if the insinuation was about you, but your gut feeling demanded you to stay far away from him. 

Despite your desperate need for safety, you had to find out more about who had been contacting Wooyoung in such weird ways. The chances of your stalker and the one having sent Wooyoung letters being the same person were quite big. It may have sounded crazy, but you had to accept his offer. 

“Fine,” as soon as you opened your mouth, you already regretted your decision, yet couldn’t take it back, “I’ll come to your house but Yeosang will come too.” 

It didn’t seem like Wooyoung was bothered by it at all. Eventually he dozed off, happily holding you like you were his favorite childhood plush animal to sleep with, which he had drooled on and squeezed to death for years already. You had a little harder time falling asleep, but it was impossible to fight back the exhaustion forever. 

“No, it’s not the time yet.” 

“Why not? It’s the perfect opportunity.” 

“You’re too impatient.” 

You woke up alone in Yeosang’s dim bedroom. It was a beautiful weekend morning but you didn’t feel quite fresh; Wooyoung’s embrace hadn’t left you a lot of space to breathe, and now you felt like a sad, deflated balloon. 

The voices coming from behind the door were quiet and it was hard to hear all of the words being spoken, but Wooyoung’s voice was so much louder that it became easy to recognize the subject of the conversation by context. 

“I think she woke up, so shut your mouths. I’m going to check up on her.” 

You barely had time to close your eyes before San was standing by the bedroom door, inspecting your act of sleeping which definitely looked less natural than you wanted it to. 

Maybe it was your shaky breaths or the unusual sleeping position that gave you away, but San immediately noticed your attempts at fooling him. 

“I’ve seen you sleep before. Stop acting like I wouldn’t notice that you’re awake,” San chuckled. 

With your sleepy brain, you didn’t even pay attention to his words carefully. 

You heard the door closing, but opening your eyes immediately would have been a risky move. All you could do was keep quiet and eyes shut for a second before checking if the door had left San outside or let him in. 

A few moments passed, and the room was full of tense silence. It was nerve-wracking, not being able to see what and who was around you. You held your shaky breaths in case San was still in the room. 

But after some time, it felt like you were alone. Your eyes opened carefully. 

San was in front of you, crouching. Even in the dim room you could see the wide smile, dimples prominent on his cheeks. The way his eyes were staring straight into your soul made your heart skip a beat – not in a good way. They weren’t unkind, almost even too eager which made it worse. His face was so close to yours that you could hear whenever he swallowed. 

“You heard us, right?” San’s smile made you feel uneasy. 

He clearly didn’t believe you as you shook your head ‘no’. 

“Liar. Do you want to know what we talked about?” 

This time, you weren’t sure whether to shake your head or nod. The things he’d reveal could be terrifying and make you feel unsafe. However, you couldn’t just stay oblivious; you nodded. 

San stayed silent and stood up from your level to his full height. He looked down at you as he spoke. 

“You’ll find out sooner than later, princess. Just don’t worry for now.” 

San’s words, the conversation they were having, and Wooyoung’s mention of someone contacting him had left you puzzled. As you arrived back home when the locksmith had finally granted you an access to your own apartment, you thought you’d feel safe again. 

But as your gaze fell on the state of your home, you decided it; you’d stop going to the peer support therapy. You’d report a crime to the police. There was no way you could keep this up, even though it meant that the social assistance would be gone. 

Even by the first glance, you could see the television screen which didn’t look broken by accident. Many other surfaces that once presented your reflection had been shattered as well. It looked like the mirrors had been smashed with a hard object – definitely intentionally. 

The glass doors of your cabinet were in smithereens on the floor and the objects from inside it, that were dear to you, had been stolen. In the middle of all the fear, a pang of annoyance perked its head up at the knowledge that the robber could have just opened the doors to get your prized possessions from inside the cabinet. 

But it wasn’t just a mere robber. You wished it had been, but what kind of a robber would have left a small teddy bear sitting neatly on the couch? 

Your careful steps were quiet but the beating of your heart wasn’t. You knew you should have called the police before walking into your own home which had become now a crime scene, but the plush bear basically called out your name. 

When your fingertips brushed against the soft fur, a song suddenly started playing from the teddy bear. Almost anyone would have found the beat familiar, and by the first words you recognized the song to be “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. It was a song some people used at their weddings but you had always thought the lyrics were creepy. 

The sound was crappy and lyrics barely comprehensible. The song choice definitely wasn’t coincidental. You knew the stalker was back – and this time he had already been inside your apartment. Someone had definitely stolen your keys at the yesterday’s therapy appointment and paid a visit to your home. 

It took too long for you to come to your senses, but you eventually took out your phone. Your shaky fingers tapped on the screen, dialing the emergency number. Your head was spinning with fear, senses heightened and listening to every possible sound in the apartment other than the singing teddy bear. 

“Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.” 

The plush bear kept serenading you. Its crackling voice and the beeping sound the phone made filled the silent apartment. Every second felt too long; the stalker could still be in your home, watching you. 

The beeping sound stopped and your heart lurched when a calm voice answered. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

Finally, some help. If the police believed you, maybe the stalker would eventually get caught. They had never believed you before with those multiple desperate and distrustful reports, but this time you had evidence other than just your own suspicions. 

You were about to explain the situation urgently when the teddy bear suddenly interrupted. Apparently, it could do more than just sing. 

“I love you so much. I hope you know that I’m always by your side, behind you and in front of you. I’m in every direction and place, every corner and space. I love you. So. Much!” 

You found it hard to believe the factory would have given the teddy bear lines like that. Someone very romantic had recorded a personal message for you. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” the emergency number operator asked. 

“Hopefully just me,” you answered.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 8. Chapter 10. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto @eighttens @all-of-kpop @castingjinx @jsprien213 @cooldeermagazine 

[mylight-png]

To the girl who stands with "Freedom Fighters"

On Friday, pro-Hamas groups on my campus started an encampment. I, along with a few Chabad peers, decided to stick around to keep an eye on things and be aware of the situation.

In that time, a non-Muslim, non-Arab, non-Palestinian girl approached us, and in the conversation when Hamas were brought up, she said she "stands with freedom fighters".

So this is to the girl who stared me right in the face and said she stands with "freedom fighters".

"Freedom fighters" don't cut off a woman's breast and toss it around like a plaything. "Freedom fighters" don't steal babies from their homes and keep them in dark tunnels for months on end. "Freedom fighters" don't take women hostage to hold them at gunpoint and command them to perform sexual acts. "Freedom fighters" don't gang rape civilians attending a music festival for peace, recording the whole thing with pride. "Freedom fighters" don't parade the naked bodies of their victims along the streets and pass out candy in celebration.

Maybe for you, girl who stands with "freedom fighters", this war is just some fandom to follow. You bought your cheap keffiyeh on Amazon and decided you're a revolutionary. Decided to set up camp illegally on campus and deemed yourself a rebel.

But did you stare at your screen in shock as your heart and hope and trust shattered into twelve hundred bloody pieces, trampled in the dirt? Did you frantically text friends to make sure they were home and safe and alive? Did your hands shake as you realized what was being done to your brothers and sisters?

Did you ever stare at a "missing" poster and miss people you've never met, because they're family all the same? Did you stare at graffiti scratched on a baby's face on the walls of your school's Chabad and realize that this is how little your lives and theirs mean to your peers?

Have you ever read the news and seen a Jewish brother murdered in your home city? Felt your heart drop to see another brother dead, so far from the war and yet somehow never far enough?

No, you haven't. Because you think you're such a rebellious revolutionary, standing in front of me in your keffiyeh, supporting your "freedom fighters".

Because you never had to hear your mother say she used to live on one of the kibbutzim that were attacked and realized that this could have been your future.

Because you have never had to look in the eyes of someone who has lost friends and family to your "freedom fighters" and struggled to find what to say to offer even a shred of comfort.

To you, this war is a trend. A fandom. A quirky little phase.

To so many others, it's a fucking nightmare come to life.

[drdemonprince]

I’ve been thinking on this for a bit. Everything you’ve said about kids and their place in the world and lack of power. I had a kid when I was 16. Non consensual conception type of deal. A friend of my uncle. My god fearing parents made me keep it. But to be fair despite the element of control and manipulation I’m glad I had her. I’m now a parent in my mid 30s to an almost 20 year old. It’s a trip. I fled from my parents, who kept my uncle and his friend in our lives against my will, and my girl and I started a new life across state. I know I fucked many things up. I was just a kid, with no guidance. But one thing I didn’t do was enforce any weird restrictions or control over her. We talked about sex early. I gave her choices and control over things parents twice my age were not with their own kids. I was scorned and locked out of a lot of support with her peer group parents. But it amazes me how smart, savvy, mature, kind and self aware she has become. She’s world wise, she doesn’t put up with shit from anyone and she knows her own mind. She actually understands her own needs, because she was never shamed for having them and she knows what she wants and goes for it regardless of what others think. We kind of raised each other in a way. I learned through her more than I ever learned from my fucking parents. Maybe it wasn’t the best upbringing for her, but she held power over her own life that I never had. And information. And control. She’s pretty kick ass and I don’t know how much of that is me to be honest, but just her being allowed to be her from a young age.

Cheers to you both for finding yourselves amidst really hard circumstances. You might have been completely in over your head, but you took real steps to free yourself and set your kid up for a better life. you did the real work of parenting by guiding your kid into a freer, more accepting life, and by offering her information and agency as much as you could.