#hypothetically if this was what would happen

[arthur-lesters-right-arm]

Here, i'll help out with the *starting shit*

Do you think if Arthur touches his eyes it gets John off?

Alright Starting Shit is cancelled everyone go home.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 7

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 

A/N: Before I start packing for my mama’s, I thought I would give you a little something to enjoy yourselves with until I’m back, so here you go💙

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: Hypothetical situation with brain injury, awkward flirting for information?

The next day (Y/N) did exactly as she told Leonardo she would do, and went down to the comic book store. The store she had just visited yesterday.

That morning (Y/N) and Leo eat breakfast together, with the silence almost as thick as yesterday. However, this time it wasn’t as strange or as uncomfortable. There just wasn’t anything to say. Just silence with no strange look. Leo had a lot to think about from last night, his mind still running with the flashes of himself in different universes. Different universes - he still couldn’t believe it. Maybe he should pinch himself, just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. Just like he had pretty much been mentally pinching himself over and over again, ever since he first got here. Maybe this is what happens when you hit your head against the road, after you’ve been flung off the top of a skyscraper. Maybe he was on a stretcher with Donatello looking over him, doing his best to keep his vitals stable. Maybe he was in the needle room right now, and the girl before him was nothing but a figment of his own imagination. Maybe he had made up the whole thing about different dimensions, living through a fever dream while his body was trying its absolutely best to keep him alive.

Or maybe this was reality. Maybe this was all true. The multiverse was real, and here he was nothing but a fictional character in another world. It still had him baffled, unsure of his feelings. And for once, Leo felt like he didn’t have full control of himself nor his surroundings. Whatever was going to happen was all out of his hands.

Though Leonardo didn’t speak much that morning, he flashed (Y/N) a few smiles whenever he noticed her looking at him. Which were many times. Just like Leo had many thoughts roaming his head, so had she. Just like he had a hard time getting to grips with the reality of what was happening, she was still trying to convince herself that all of this was real. That the ninja turtle Leonardo - not just any version of Leonardo, but the Bayverse version - was sitting at her dining table, eating the breakfast she had made for him. That was… that was still being processed.

When (Y/N) got ready to leave, Leo sat himself back in the living room, staring at the stack of DVD’s in front of him, tempting him once more. The thought of him, across several different dimensions, still tickled something inside of him. A curiosity that Leo just couldn’t let to rest. So many years of training to control himself, and now Leo found himself itching to get a further look at the DVD’s in front of him. But was that a smart idea? Leo couldn’t help but wonder, if maybe it would do more harm than use. But he just couldn’t help that unshakeable curiosity that kept growing within him.

So when (Y/N) then called out that she was leaving, followed by the sound of the front door closing and locking, Leo quickly grabbed a hold of the nearest DVD, before making his way towards the DVD player. Maybe he should settle his continued curiosity while he was alone… What else was he supposed to spend his time doing?

—

(Y/N) followed the route she used yesterday, until she found herself standing out in front of the comic book store, the large glass doors towering above her, with the windows showcasing the several different action figures and franchises sold within. Marvel, DC, Tintin, Asterix and Obelix, TMNT and much more. This place had become her second home at this point. A familiar place that seemed to always bring her comfort. But this time, the comfort was replaced by a slight nervousness, her heartbeat in the bottom of her throat, as she thought how she was going to go about the whole thing.

(Y/N) pushed open the glass doors before walking into the shop, happy to see that nobody batted an eye at her entering. They never did, so she wasnøt sure why today would be any different. Not even the clerk sitting behind the counter. He was too busy fighting to stay awake in his chair to even notice anything. His glasses sliding further and further down his nose with every slow nod of his head. Yet he might be the help she needed…

“Heeeeey”, (Y/N) said as she walked up to the tired man at the counter, julting him awake. He shot her a confused yet sleepy look, but never moved from his resting position in his chair behind the counter.

“Hello?”, he answered, looking very confused as if he wasn’t on the job.

“So, I have this very strange question from a friend, who is really into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but he is - you know - very much like Leo - if that makes sense - and doesn’t really like to ask for help”, (Y/N) said, the man behind the counters expression only getting more confused. “He doesn’t even know I’m doing this for him”, she smiled, trying her hardest to sound natural about it. “He wants to know, if there ever has been a time where the turtles have been able to travel through dimensions, without the help of a second party?”

The guy behind the count stared at her for a minute, before finally moving from his chair, leaning against the counter with a small smile, sounding as tired as ever.

“Listen here, Sweetpea, you don’t have to lie, I know what you’re doing”, he said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. (Y/N) felt her heart jump from the bottom of her throat to the very top, the cold running down her back. There was no way he knew. He couldn’t know. There was just no way he could know she had one of the mutant turtles hiding in her apartment.

“You don’t have to lie about a friend. There is nothing wrong with wanting a nice friendly discussion with another nerd. Even for a good looking girl like you”, he finished with a tired smug smile.

Well, if that was the way (Y/N) was going to get some answers, then that was the way. Even if it was a little strange.

“You got me”, she said, playing into it. “I’m just still not used to talking about it with anybody out in the open”.

“I figured”, the guy said with the same smug smile. “I’ve seen you walk around in here so many times, yet rarely buy anything. And I tell you, it is not hard to notice when beauty walks through those doors”. Okay. (Y/N) wasn’t going to lie, that last part was a little weird. “So what did you want to ask about again?”

“Well, I’ve kind of wondered, if there ever has been a time, where the TMNT could travel through dimensions without the help of Leo’s sword in ROTTMNT, or any other beings from ROTTMNT for that matter, Krang, Shredder, the Daimyo's son and Draco, Renet, that time guy from 2003, professor Honeycutt, any alien race, master Splinter and the battle Nexus, the ninja tribunal, or that weird thing April’s uncle had in the 2003 series?”

The guy behind the counter stood for a minute, processing the big ramble of words that just had come out of her mouth. He looked up, brows close together, thinking. Like really thinking, as if he knew exactly what (Y/N) was talking about, before finally looking back at her.

“Not that I’m aware of, no”.

(Y/N) sighed, looking down at her feet. “Great…” How were you going to help Leo now?

“Well, if you want, I can look into it for you”, the guy said. “There’s probably something I have overlooked”.

“What? Really? Is that a service you provide?”

“For the right price, we do”, the guy smiled while looking something up on his computer.

“What’s the price?”

“Well, according to my calendar, a date with me next friday”.

Oh god. Flirting for information was one thing, but this was not something (Y/N) was interested in doing.

“You know what?”, (Y/N) said while taking a few steps backwards towards the door, continuously throwing glances towards it. “I think my friend might actually know the answer after all”. And with those words, she was out the door.

“Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where you can find me!”, he yelled after her as she left, watching as she disappeared beyond the glass. Slumping back in his chair, he went back to his tired posture as before. “Become a store manager, Darron, she said. They girls love it, she said. Thanks a lot mom”.

[redtail-lol]

Yep yep yep. Except I would argue incels are sorta worse

Radical feminists come from a place of truth: being a woman, or being AFAB, in a patriarchal society inherently disadvantages you. Though there are extreme flaws in the way they view men and maleness as evil, they are correct that they are an oppressed population. Incels are largely straight cis men, and arguably largely white. The "victimization" they perceive happening to them? They aren't getting sex. Whereas radfems are reacting poorly to real oppression, incels are acting petulant and stamping their feet about how they aren't getting what they want. Their beliefs are deeply entrenched in misogyny, as they wholeheartedly believe that they are entitled to sex and that it's unfair for women to be able to say no. They view women as sex objects and those who have gone off in the deep end have expressed that they think that they should be just given a wife, regardless of what she wants, because his desire to have sex matters more than a woman's autonomy. Radfems off the deep end are also horrendous - believing wholeheartedly that all men should be killed - but again the root cause is in real oppression, and they believe this would make the world a safer place for women. And to add, radfems have absolutely no way to make a KAM plan happen. It is their hypothetical dream world. Incel ideas used to be the norm in society. Women WERE property, and in some very poor places, still are. Incel's vision for the world, they'll probably never see but it is POSSIBLE. This could happen again. It probably won't but it can.

TL;DR Radical feminist beliefs are the result of real oppression, fear, and a desire for a safer, equal world, and they misplace the blame on maleness and bioessentialism, treating patriarchy as inevitable, rather than trying to reform society and create gender equality. Incel beliefs are the result of a sense of entitlement, the objectification and dehumanization of women, horniness, and loneliness. Being oppressed is an actual problem. Not having a girlfriend or being a virgin is not. It might make you feel down but this is an extremely temporary problem, and not something society needs to fix at the expense of others. Radical feminists are terrible and incels are managing to be 30 times worse.

If you use incel to mean "man who can't get a girlfriend" or "male virgin" you can go fuck yourself. Incels are a misogynistic hate group. The issue has never been that they can't get laid.

sucks that "incel" is just like a generic insult now synonymous with "virgin" bc if people had much of an idea of what incel ideology actually entails, we could have a conversation about radical feminism being quite literally, beat for beat, incel shit for girls

[alaydabug2]

Secret Santa 2024

Run by @song-tam

This is my secret Santa project for my lovely cognate @wow-youre-so-pretty !

I have absolutely zero idea how I got you for it, but I had so much fun writing this!

Ngl motivation was so low it was playing limbo with the devil at first but then it finally started rolling

*cough* over 3500 word count *cough* 👀

Ummmm.... I was struggling really hard tk at least get 1000 believe it or not but... yeah

I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!

(FYI this will probably be the last time you ever ask me to write you angst 😅)

⚠️CONTAINS UNRAVELED SPOILERS AND SUICIDIAL IDEATION⚠️

(Keefe pov)

The eerie stillness of the emotions in the hallway spooked him. He was hoping that by the time he went back to Foxfire, the silence of emotions would go away, and he could go back to normal. However, things seemed to be taking a turn for the worse.

Hopefully, his empathy teacher would be able to help him get to the bottom of what was happening. The lack of progress he'd made on his own made him apprehensive. If he couldn't turn his empathy back on, he didn't want to know where that would spiral to.

Then, with the other developments while he was with the Forbidden Cities, he felt like he was currently falling apart. His hands were cold, and the more walls he built around the pools of energy in his mind, the more than achy feeling set in into the palms of his hands.

He sat in the chair across from Lady Velle, his mentor. She studied him for a moment before starting the lesson for the day.

Keefe kept fumbling to pretend his empathy wasn't majorly screwed up at the moment. A cold sweat trickled down his back when Lady Velle finally held up a hand to cut him off. It had been the fifth one in a row he got wrong. Only one he had gotten correct, and that was truly just because of a lucky guess.

"What's going on with you, Keefe?" She asked. "You're usually spectacular at this."

He debated how much to say. After a couple of breaths, he said, "Say, hypothetically, an empath shut off their ability, and couldn't turn it back on. What could that empath do to get it back on?"

Lady Velle crossed her arms. He shifted his gaze away from hers.

"Hypothetically, that would be impossible," she informed him. "Abilities can't be shut off once their triggered."

"Ok. But hypothetically, what if someone did?"

She stepped closer, brushing her thumb across the back of his hand and furrowing her brows. Keefe tensed up, afraid his mental blocking might not be enough to keep from something awful happening when she touched his hand.

"Your emotions are difficult to decipher," Lady Velle murmured. "But there's a lot of uncertainty. And fear. How did you do this to yourself?"

Keefe wrapped his arms around himself, unsure of how much he should tell her.

"The human emotions, they were too much for my empathy. So, I tried to visualize a switch connected to all the emotions and shut it off. Part of the string connected to them were tangled, so I unraveled it. I haven't been able to feel emotions, even with contact, since."

Lady Velle leaned on the wall and sighed. "That... is a first I've heard of, to be honest. Quite a talent, I'll admit. But have you tried flipping the switch back on?"

He scoffed. Of course he tried flipping it back on! He gave his mentor a quick nod.

"Have you tried retangling the threads?"

He had... not. He shook his head.

"Try it," she urged.

Keefe closed his eyes. He went back to the giant switch in the back of his consciousness. The strings attached were straight and in uniform, side by side.

He tried to mix them together. Tried to intertwine them. Didn't work. Had he really shut off his empathy for good?

He opened his eyes back up. "Nothing."

"There was something else when I read your emotions," Lady Velle said. "Dread. Almost like you're afraid of your empathy. Like you subconsciously don't want it. Why is that? Because that could be all the difference to turning it back on."

Keefe shrugged. He wasn't willing to let slip that much. Besides, it wasn't just his empathy he dreaded with all the other crap he'd been putting up with. Some of which weren't his right to tell.

Lady Velle looked out the window. She started to speak, but the chimes of session ending cut her off.

"Never mind," she muttered. "We'll continue this Thursday. Go to lunch."

Keefe grabbed his satchel and hurried out the door. Saved by the bell. Big time. He'd ditch Thursday. He didn't want his mentor prying further into the rabbit hole that was his life.

He went through the line and sat down at the table beside Sophie. It felt like all eyes on him. He was suddenly glad not to feel their questions buzzing through the air. It, however, didn't take away the weight of their glares.

Sophie could see the way he shifted in his seat. He kept his eyes downcast from the others. After everything that happened, he didn't feel a part of his friends anymore. He felt like an outcast. Maybe he should have just stayed in the Forbidden Cities with Alvar.

Keefe could have been eating pancakes right now. Instead, he was back at the place of horrid memories. Especially when he accidentally caught Dex's eye.

He wanted to make a joke to lighten things up. But now that he couldn't read anyone anymore, he was afraid of making jt worse. And when he opened his mouth to risk it, his tongue was dry. He couldn't make himself to it.

He could feel himself cracking. Too many pairs of eyes were staring straight through his soul. He felt himself shaking. His breath quickened.

Keefe truly thought he was ready to go back to Foxfire. He hoped getting back in his sessions would help him make sense of everything happening with his abilities.

He hoped being back with his friends would boost his morall and give him more motivation. No. The opposite effect was occurring. All of them staring at him like he was an alien creature made him realize how much him running away affected him. His friendships. His perception of life. The awful things he couldn't let slip. Not Alvar. Not Eleanor. Not his new healing ability.

He had never felt so outcasted. Not even his first few months at Foxfire, before the Great Gulon Incident that earned him his street cred. At least then he had Fitz. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, for a while, they were the weird kids in the level.

This felt like a deeper kind of isolation.

One where he didn't know if there was a way out. One if he even thought living on to see another day was worth it. With the mixture of hopeless doom spiraling him into a darker head space and his mother's plans for him. He was genuinely considering the unthinkable.

The only thing stopping him was not having the stomach to do it himself. Sure, he was better with violence than most other elves. But taking his life with his own hand was too much. As much as everything hurt. As much as he couldn't stand to stay on this hopeless planet anymore. The thought made his nauseous and dizzy.

Keefe shook out of his dark train of thought when Jensj across the table told him, "Long time no see." A grin. "Glad to have you back!"

Keefe plastered wobbly, unconvincing smile onto his face. "Glad to be back," he lied.

Since when had Jensi been back sitting with them? Every time he thought he knew how much time had passed since being at school last, he was proven wrong once more. How much did he miss?

Keefe followed along the conversation best he could, more things he didn't understand being brought up, reminding him of how far left behind he was. He tried to stay out of the conversation.

That was until Jensi asked him, "Hey, Keefe, could you please pass me a napkin?"

Keefe glanced beside him to where the little black napkin dispenser was. "Uh, yeah, sure."

He stretched his arm across the table. But as he passed the napkin, their fingers brushed. Keefe froze.

No. No, no, no, no. No!

Keefe had built thick mental walls to keep this from happening. Why else did his hands feel so freezing cold it ached?

But it was unmistakable. The empty hollow feeling of someone who would never manifest. Of someone who was talentless.

He never wanted to feel that ever again in his life. But now, he had. And he felt sick.

He didn't even know whether Jensi had manifested or not yet. Now, here he was, with the knowledge that He. Never. Would.

Another burden on his shoulders. Another secret to carry. Another straw on the camel's back.

It was too much.

Dex gave him a look, sensing the wild look in his eyes. The quick nod Keefe gave in response said it all. Dex's face dropped.

Keefe was shaking. He excused himself to the bathroom and ran off into the hallway. He slid back against the locker and placed his head between his knees. Breaths came quick and short

Not again. Not again!

Another life he had ruined. Was he supposed to tell Jensi? How was he supposed to do that?

Jensi was close to the manifesting cut-off age. Could Keefe pretend to not know until he inevitably finds out. Did he already know?

Probably not. If so, he likely would have been kicked out of Foxfire already.

If it's going to happen anyway, would it be cruel to keep it from him? It's not like with Rex, who had years of hope left. Jensi was very well close to the age where, if you haven't manifested, they weed you out of the system.

Should Keefe rip off the bandage for him?

Keefe clutched his hair. Tears finally escaped. This was a nightmare. He couldn't deal with this. He didn't want to be the one deciding someone's fate.

He wanted- needed -it to end.

Maybe Ro left some lethal microbes back at the Shores of Solace. That mixed with a sedative would make it bearable.

Steps echoed through the empty hall. Keefe didn't have the willpower to pull himself together. He already decided he wouldn't be here much longer.

"Keefe?"

Keefe whipped his head up to meet Dex's eyes.

"It's not your fault." Dex sat beside him. "It's still going to end the same way if you hadn't found out."

Keefe sat on that for a second. "I have to tell him," he whispered.

"No, you don't," Dex assured him. "Sometimes oblivion is better."

"He's already to where they can take him out of Foxfire. If that's going to happen, I don't want him to think, 'What if?', you know."

Dex didn't speak for a moment. "I suppose you have a point. But are you sure you want him to know about your ability?"

"Not really. But... he deserves this more than I deserve privacy."

"I'm pretty confident that, if you ask him to, he won't say anything to anyone about your ability."

"You think?"

Dex pondered for a second longer. "I believe so. Question is, when do you want to do this?"

Keefe thought of his little microbe plan. "As soon as possible."

"So today or tomorrow?"

"That would work."

"If you want, I can be there when you tell him," Dex offered.

Keefe shook his head. "This is something that I need to do alone. I won't say anything about your brother in case you're worried about it."

"If you're sure he truly won't say anything, you can tell him about Rex if it helps soften the blow."

Keefe nodded. He dried his eyes before leaning his head back against the locker.

"Do you plan on heading back to lunch?" Dex asked.

"No. You can head back, though. I'll be fine here."

"Nah." Dex pulled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I think I'll stay."

Keefe closed his eyes, wishing he was a telepath so he could give Dex a silent thank you. Instead he settled for trying to gather his thoughts in the quiet of the hallway, grateful to not feel totally alone.

The next day, Keefe waited in the same hall during lunch. He had asked Jensi during orientation to meet him there to talk.

The sound of someone heading down the tiled floor had his heart skip a beat. The curly headed boy appeared from around the corner.

"Sooo," Jensi drawled out the word. "What did you want to talk about?"

Keefe's mind drew a blank. He was regretting deciding to this plan.

"I wanted to talk about... ability detecting! How's it going?"

"Ability detecting?" Jensi asked. "That's what you wanted to talk to me in private about? If that's it we can talk about that at the lunch table." He turned to go back from where he came. "Cause I'm hungry."

"Wait!" Keefe squeezed his eyes shut. "It's not just about ability detecting. Has anyone told you about me manifesting a new ability yet?"

Jensi turned back around. "Kind of. They've mentioned it. But it was always vague, so I don't know what it is."

"Yeah... about that." Keefe's heart pounded against his ribs as a warning. "I can tell what people will manifest. And trigger it."

Jensi's eyes widened. "You can?" He got an overly giddy grin on his face. "Are you going to do that for me?"

Keefe needed to choose his next few words very carefully.

"I already did. Yesterday when I passed you the napkin."

Jensi tilted his head. "You did? When will it kick in? Is that why you left lunch? Does it take a toll on you or something?"

Keefe closed his eyes and swallowed. "You could say that. And... it's usually overnight when it kicks in."

Jensi furrowed his brows and studied his hands. "I don't feel any different. What was it?"

Keefe leaned against one of the lockers for support. He could already feel his knees shaking.

"Yeah. Before I tell you this text bit, can you promise me to keep this a secret? My ability can be mentioned at the lunch table. But this... you can't tell anyone. I got permission to tell you this as long as you can keep quiet. Can you do that?"

Jensi nodded.

"Ok," Keefe continued. "Yesterday, when I touched your hand, it felt... hallow. Empty. I've felt this twice before that. When I touched Rex's hand.... and Kesler's."

"But... Kesler never manifested."

"I know."

"But Rex..."

"I know."

Realization set heavy into Jensi's usually happy demeanor. He bit his lip hard.

"So your telling me... I'm talentless?"

"I'm so sorry. I wish I knew how to control this ability, and I thought I did, but-"

"It's ok," Jensi cut Keefe of from his downward spiral. His chin wobble. "I... had a feeling this was coming. Usually if you haven't manifested by level four, your not going to. I've just been waiting for them to finally give up on me and pull my classes."

Keefe nodded solemnly.

"I'm gonna head to lunch," Jensi told him. Keefe could feel the broken truth in his eyes even with his empathy screwed. "Are you coming?"

Keefe chewed his lip. "I'll be there in bit. You go ahead, I'll meet you there."

Jensi nodded and took a breath before heading back down to the lunch room.

Keefe went into the bathroom. He splashed his face with water. When he looked back at his reflection in the mirror, he could hardly recognize himself.

He was sixteen. But the heavy bags under his slightly crazed eyes mixed with his unusual palor made him look like an ancient. When he ran a hand through his hair to try and refresh its usual fluffynes, he half expected sharp points on his ears to poke through the blonde.

This wasn't a life he wanted to live.

He'd go straight to the Shores of Solace after school to look through the remainder of Ro's microbe stash, he'd decided. He already knew there was slumberry tea in the kitchen. He'd go out to the patio on the swing out by the ocean, somewhere quiet and peaceful, and do it there.

The end of the day rolled around. Keefe tried his best to separate from his friends to get to the leap master alone. Just when he thought he was in the clear, Sophie seemed to have materialized behind him.

"Keefe, where you going?" She asked him.

"I'm just going to get something from my dad's," he responded a little too quickly.

Foster's face fell. "You're not... leaving again, are you?"

She thought he was running away again. But... it was better for her to think that. She'd never let him out of her sight if she knew what he was planning to do. She cared for him. Way more than he knew he deserved. This was just another way he was letting her down.

Was he selfish for this?

Maybe.

But he wanted nothing to with his mom's plan. And he wanted nothing to do with these abilities. All of the secrets he was keeping from his friends would die with him.

This would be the one smart move he'd make in this game of life and death.

Making sure none of the information he had would live on and had the chance of slipping free. Making sure no more people's lives were ruined.

"I'll be back." Keefe leaned down and kissed her forehead, taking a moment to drink in her warmth as she wrapped her arms around him. "Promise."

A lie.

Like all of the other things he told her after coming back home. What was new.

But he found peace in knowing it would be last one he'd ever tell her.

One more thing bubbled in the back of his mind. One thing, if he didn't know what he was about to do, he would probably come to regret.

"I love you, Sophie." He closed his eyes, too afraid to see the look on her face.

"Keefe," her almost angelic voice rang out. Her hand ruffled through his hair, eventually coaxing his eyes open.

Her's were filled with tears.

"Please don't go again," she begged. "We're supposed to be team, remember?"

Her hand moved from his hair to cupping the side of his face. He couldn't help but lean into her touch, resting his hand atop hers.

"I have to go." Tears quickly welled in his eyes. When he blinked, they slid down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Sophie brushed them away with her thumb. She closed her eyes for a couple moments. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

When she opened them back up, they were almost pleading. "Come to Havenfeild. Just for the night. To make a plan. To help you pack." She paused for a breath, a fresh batch of tears brewing in her gorgeous gold flecked eyes. "Please?"

Keefe swallowed. "Ok."

He'd go through the motions. And then he could get back with his original plan.

Foster hooked her arm through his, pulling him into the beam of light to Havenfeild. As soon as they glittered into the pastures, Sophie turned and tackled him with a bone crushing hug.

"Keefe Sencen, I swear," she warned, "If you kill yourself I am going to murder you."

Keefe's jaw went slack. "How did you-"

"I read your mind," she admitted. She pulled back to look him straight in the eyes, keeping a firm, almost painful, grip on both his biceps to keep him from twisting from her grip. "I'm sorry, I truly am, but I had a feeling I needed to. And I'm glad I did."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down. "People care about you, Keefe. I love you," she whispered.

Keefe felt his throat become thick. He had to clear it several times before answering, "But that isn't why I'm doing this." He tried to pull away. "This is because of my abilities."

Sophie yanked him right on back down to her. She cradled his head down on her shoulder. Resigning to his predicimen, he buried his face into her neck. He inhaled the soft scent of her panakes perfume, giving him flashbacks to the clearing in The Grove. It only succeeded in making his heart heavy.

"We'll figure something out. I promise," she whispered.

"And how many people will I hurt in the meantime? I can't do this anymore, Foster," his voice cracked. The pitiful sound made way for the gut wrenching sobs that wracked his body. "I! Can't! Do! This! Ok?"

Sophie held him tighter to her. She carefully lowered them down to the soft grass. She kissed his shoulder.

His own cries of mental anguish drowned out any of the other noises of the world. Slowly the sobs slowed into hiccups and whimpered. However, not by his own accord.

Soon a warmth filled it's place. Like the crackling of a fire on a cold winter night. Brightening up the chilling darkness. Comforting his aching soul.

Was Sophie... inflicting on him? Positive emotions, that is.

She untangled herself from him to look him in his icy blue eyes. "Hey. Can you talk to me now?"

He wiped at his eyes, nodding.

"Swear to me, Keefe. Swear to me that you won't even consider doing that again before talking to me. Before we can actually come up with a plan to help you."

He looked away, ashamed with his awnser. "I can't-"

"No, Keefe!" She snapped, startling him with her tone. "Swear. Swear on Silveny's life!"

Keefe squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. He tried very his best to mean it when he awnsered, "I swear."

He'd try. He'd try his absolute hardest. For her. She deserved that much.

She must've been able to tell he meant it. That or she was reading his mind again. Either way, she pulled his face closer and kissed him. He melted at her touch.

This. This feeling was worth living for. If nothing else, this.

This amazing girl in front of him cared for him like no other person did. He'd do everything in his power to fight off the dark thoughts deep in his head.

For Sophie.

She finally broke away. She studied him for a minute.

"Come on," she told him. "Let's go inside and get comfortable. There should still be some mallowmelt left if I recall."

Keefe pulled himself to his feet and started to follow her in. Just as they entered the threshold, she turned back and smiled at him.

"It will be ok," she whispered.

And funny enough, he believed it.

[corinescorner]

the "willogenics aren't valid" discourse kinda makes me chuckle as a CDD system who intentionally created a part recently (if i still used origin labels that'd make me mixed-origin? traumaendo? idk i'm just a Guy). not even just because of that, but because of this insistence that in order to be valid it MUST have a paper written about it. "if your exact experience hasn't been documented by scientists, then it can't have happened" is such a wild sentiment to me.

like...even if there weren't brain scans (which there are!), who are you (generic you) to tell people "no, your subjective experience isn't happening. i know your brain because all brains function the same way (within the norm) unless they acceptably do so otherwise"? wild. if anything, shouldn't this unique experience popping up so frequently encourage curiosity? that's probably how we got the created systems brain scans.

idk this might be incoherent but it feels like syscourse is obsessed with defining all of your experiences for you and categorizing them into valid and not valid. rather than just letting you. idk. have your experiences and share them. it's why i haven't come out about having a created part lol—i just don't feel like dealing with people going "that specific part isn't valid clearly you're mistaken" or "oh you poor thing the endos got to you :(" or "throw the whole cdd away you're lying all the way down" while i'm navigating this on my own.

great account btw corine. :)

This is very true. I was just informed that the brainscans indicate DID-related switches between trauma holders and non-trauma holders, which, hypothetically, traumagenic systems without DID/OSDD could participate in that study as well.

It's really funny how we have to have every single living experience written on paper for it to be real or valid. If it's not written on paper, wouldn't it be the best course of action to put them on paper? Which they are! There's currently a study (at Stanford) about tulpas, which I have also been informed about!

Instead of judging, fakeclaiming, etc., we should ask questions. Validate a stranger's experience, because no one knows what they're going through. Even if I didn't believe in willogenic/tulpa/paro/etc, I would never fakeclaim them in fear of them actually experiencing something. Fakeclaiming helps no one but the person fakeclaiming. They seem like the "hero" or the "vigilante" of systemhood.

Thank you, anon. <3

[valzhangism]

frank is destined to die by his firewood burning out, so what about other methods of death? the logical (and probably canon) answer to this would be that if he dies by something else, then the firewood also spontaneously burns up.

but okay. look. listen. what if. frank could survive anything that would otherwise kill him, but every time he heals it burns his firewood more and more. what if he could shapeshift back lost limbs and organs but at the cost of his life energy, sapping him bit by bit. what if he destroyed himself in the pursuit of duty.

[ash-alder]

Huh. This was a paradigm-shifting thing to read. Not re: trans women and risk/power/threat/etc, but regarding the idea of "female socialization" for myself as a trans guy.

How I was raised/what I feel I was socially conditioned to do and be has had a huge impact on my current self (obviously,) and I've mostly seen that as because I was raised as a woman and That's What Women Are Like. Reframing that in terms of people with less power in a situation adopting behaviors that will minimize the risk they are in... That is a really, really good thing for me to think about, and it shifts some stuff in my head and understanding in ways that I think will be really good for me.

An adjacent paradigm-shifting thing came up in therapy last night, and the void gets to hear about it because fuck it why not.

I have a lot of guilt about the fact that I don't think I would want to change the life experiences I have had. That is, if it were possible, I don't know that I'd make my life easier for pastMe. Without all the bullshit, I wouldn't be here. There is very little chance I would have become this self, and this me if the past were less awful. It is absolutely ridiculous, but I feel guilty that in this (entirely hypothetical) situation, I'm ok with condemning my pastSelf to pain. (Look, got some fucked up brain patterns.)

I also hate it, b/c that idea (that I wouldn't be this person if my past was different) feels like it implies the bullshit "everything happens for a reason." Which is Very Bad to me in a lot of different ways, and not something I want to tell pastMe (or anyone else.)

Last night, my therapist said that it isn't all the events I experienced that got me here, and made me into the person I am. It's how I responded to, and acted because of them. It isn't the event that is responsible for the way it shaped me. It's the action I took. And that feels good to think about.

I don't know if this makes any sense to anyone outside my head, and is a huge fucking digression on what the actual post is about, but fuck it. Void screaming, or whatever.

a lot of behaviors that get attributed to "female socialization" can be so much more easily and accurately understood as a person recognizing the power differential surrounding them and behaving sensibly in response to that.

like. does a woman politely listen to a man monologue at her because of some experience she had when she was twelve that magically cursed her to behave that way forever, or does she do it because the man has the power to hurt her and she knows it?

does a woman do all the dishes in her household because she is less capable of breaking out of a long-ago conditioned response than, like, your average trained dog, or is she doing that because she knows that all the men in the house will blame her if she doesnt and will make life worse for her if she speaks up?

maybe a lot of sexist patterns of behavior that are widely observed in society arent caused by women like, lacking willpower or backbone? maybe it is super fucking weird for supposedly feminist movements to imply this is the case when they talk about female socialization as the end all, be all of predicting human behavior?

isnt it both more useful and more respectful toward women to consider that they are perceiving their present circumstances accurately, and recognize when power is already being wielded against them, and take logical measures to deescalate and protect themselves because it works? is it not fucking clear to everybody that trans women in particular have to do this all the fucking time?

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[aardvaark]

im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.

[kitty-pelosi]

this is funny because that statement being made is precluded by the fact that everyone in this hypothetical situation is really stupid. like A.) ok so say we have a white nb who has the ability to be a white man at a moment’s notice and B.) everyone else in the room fails to see this and C.) the white nb is somehow unaware of this fact and is recklessly and passionately foregoing any form of privilege. sorry, in the name of what? proximity to trans women they fetishize? the buy-in for a reward like that is way too much. at this point we are talking about a hypothetical person which would be so so so rare. hate to sound like a Republican but takes like this are what happens when you place yourself in the center of the universe.

the matrices of reality do not revolve around any person’s self-perception and that’s a take only the most self important person could possibly make. it’s giving I’m-racist-because-my-father-was-killed-by-a-black-man. yeah. because they’re coming for YOU specifically.

"Yeah let's talk about the cishet men who start to go by he/they to hangout with queer women and pre-t trans men"

You disgust me. :)

How about we normalize just having met shitty people ?? Like how hard could it be to just have known predators and not targeting a WHOLE ASS GROUP OF PEOPLE ?? How about not being transphobic for once ?? Bitch you're not making a point here. Stop.

[hychlorions]

they match :')

[hidingoutbackstage]

The poor quality songs releasing solely on Spotify with no rhyme or reason to them…literally all other EAH and Mattel social media not saying anything about it…Allison Bloom not knowing what the hell is going on…MATTEL THEMSELVES CALLING THE SONGS AI GENERATED???

[connorsnothereeither]

What if I said that hypothetically Brink and Caught Between Collapsing Skies take place in the same universe. Just for funsies. What’s stopping me. Maybe all my fics are secretly in the same universe, who knows. Maybe it’s all connected. Maybe it’s all part of a plan- /j

[unnameablethings]

#i have so so so many thoughts on this aaaaauugh...#one day i might just publish a series of venn diagrams aksjfhjghkhj#'all the people in the world' (eight billion) ->#'all the people who have a hypothetical interest in what you're making' (as in enjoy the genre etc.) ->#'all the people who actually are into what you specifically are trying to make' ->#'people who use the internet in the same language as you' ->#'people who use the same websites as you' ->#ok tumblr tags make for really poor diagrams#my point being: depending on how and where and when and what you're posting#anywhere between five (5) and a few thousand people might happen to scroll by it#of those people#something like 2-7% have any interest in what you've posted and have stopped to take a closer look#of those people most did not feel anything in particular and scrolled on#some thought it was neat and scrolled on#some thought it was neat and hit like and scrolled on#and a very tiny percentage thought it was super neat and maybe they also checked out your otther posts and followed you and reblogged etc.#AND NONE OF THOSE PEOPLE ARE WRONG.#none of those who didn't care about your post are 'unappreciative' or 'ungrateful' or 'not giving you a chance'#they are simply into different things#you can improve the chances of your work being seen by more people#(using specific tags which people are likely to actually check/follow)#('original writing' or 'poetry' or 'fantasy' aren't that. imagine if a recipe blogger posted a recipe only titled 'food'? how would anyone e#and you can improve the chances of your post being seen by more people who are into the thing you're posting#but you can't force people into being interested in something they aren't#you HAVE to realise that it's insane to take it personally that most people scroll by.#just. think about it seriously. peer reviewing tags because YES EXACTLY @appelsiinilight you get what I'm getting at

god not to get into the discourse but like. we gotta discuss the dialectics of Getting Attention For Art. Two things can be true simultaneously.

1. it is TOTALLY NORMAL AND EXPECTED to really want people to give your art attention/notes/love/care. That is a deeply fulfilling and necessary part of the process of creating art.

2. You are not entitled to attention/notes/love/care just because the art exists, and you HAVE to find a way to drive yourself to keep creating in the absence of those things.

Maybe people aren't paying attention because your art is not good. Maybe they're not paying attention because your marketing is not good. Maybe it's just not the right timing Maybe it just got lost in the vast morass of internet content. The only way to fix these things is to persist in creation and improve in the process.

We can discuss the role of the audience in helping art thrive, but I think it's more useful to focus on your own contributions. Are you leaving detailed enthusiastic comments on everything you love? Are you reblogging with tags and commentary? Are you sharing the things you love? You cannot control the behavior of anyone but yourself. You can take your disapproval of art culture as a prompt for your own behavior, but it's pointless to resent Society for your art not doing well.

Wrt writing specifically, am certain you have all heard/read the stories of your favorite authors getting umpteen rejections by publishers before getting published. I feel like in some ways the system of traditional publishing allows for more ego-preservation. You can think "I KNOW people would love it if The Gatekeepers would give it a chance."

But now it's just out there on the internet and nobody's watching or reading it at all. Turns out maybe the gatekeepers were right about this one. And that's genuinely really difficult to deal with, it's something I struggle with frequently.

But oh my god. oh my god. listen to me. if you take anything away from this post. YOU CANNOT BULLY OR GUILT TRIP OR LOGIC PEOPLE INTO READING YOUR SHIT. It either hits or it doesn't. If you can't handle that, DON'T POST YOUR WORK.

[dnpbeats]

I have this vision its not even a dream its like sth I feel has happened or might happen...it's them playing that dating game again or another version of it and reading the q "who kissed who first". And dan looking straight into the camera and saying "don't pretend you don't know". Then they both laugh and move on to the next one

LMAOOOOOO NO 💀😭 honestly the only reason I think that wouldn’t ever happen is bc there are ppl who wouldn’t know and I don’t think d&p would wanna prompt ppl going to find out lmao

[tempestmothstorm]

Ok since Monika still has her admin powers in the side stories you think she could just discover them accidentally or use them without realizing

Anyways au where Monika and friends discover her admin powers but dont know about the wider context of what it means. So they just go around thinking Monika has magic and try practicing with a bunch of silly fun shenanigans because they figure it’s some chosen one bloodline stuff and not like. A product of their reality being a constricted digital science experiment.

This au will not end well