#i literally traumatized myself doing this

[cassdrawsthings]

God, that was my whole fucking childhood in a nutshell.

You know what I love about it?

I've made a list.

Won't you take a moment to read about all of the things I love?

I think you'll enjoy it

I'm excited to share things with you :D

Love being gaslit into thinking that every single problem is a problem with me.

Love being constantly abused by society every single step of the way.

Love being psychologically tortured non-stop for literal years by peers who treated it as a sport.

I wish I could make friends

Love being psychologically tortured non-stop for years by adults out of spite that I went to for help.

Love having my joy and sense of wonderment beaten out of me during a time of nurturing.

What did I do wrong?

Love living as an adult in a child's body.

Was it something I said?

I love every attempt at human connection and every attempt to share my interests being aggressively rejected and being punished for even trying.

I love how it was seen as especially noble that I would spend time with the nonverbal autistic kids trying to find new ways to communicate with them when they were among the very few who seemed to understand me.

I'm sorry I didn't mean to bother you

I love seeing nonverbal autistic kids being seen as obnoxious lumps of flesh incapable of thought or agency by people who make no real attempt to adapt to their needs.

I love being told I have no sense of empathy by people who act like unfeeling psychopaths towards me when I dare to simply exist around them.

I love being called a retard by my classmates for struggling to use spoken language under stress.

I love being pushed to the point of abject desperation, being backed into a corner and drowning in abuse and neglect and isolation and feeling completely and utterly hopeless.

Please just leave me alone

I love having my desperate struggle for basic survival labeled as "anger issues."

I love having nobody to turn to for company but my pet cat.

I love crying myself to sleep every night.

I love spending every day yearning to return to the before times, hoping that everything is just a horrible nightmare and that I would wake up one day in a kind world.

I love being disappointed every time.

I love waking up into different variations of the same horrible, traumatic day instead.

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

Please, I'm trying my best

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

I love losing hope.

I love wondering why I had any to begin with.

I love trying to run away and making it a block before breaking down and sobbing alone in the cold winter rain.

And over.

And over.

And over. What do you want from me

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

I loAnd over.

Ov

Er.

I love forgetting how it feels to have the gentle wAnd over.armth of sunlight on your skin.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And ovI love accepting that this horrible, cold, lonely tunnel is my new life.er.

And over.

And over. Please I just want an honest friend

And over. I just want to be loved

I love accepting that there is no light at the end of this tunnel.

And over.

And over.

And over And over

And over I love you Lula, you're such a good kitty

And over I love that you spend time with me

And over thank you for being a warm, gentle thing

And over for me to hold close to my heart

And over. Such a sweetie

And over.

And over.

And over. Such a kind soul

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

I love holding my stuffed animals close and sobbing as I apologize over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and without even knowing what I'm apologizing for. and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over. I have poured so much love into my stuffed

And over. animals

And over.

And over. Maybe someday I will have that love

And over. returned to me

And over.

And over. and I won't be so sad

And over.

And over.

I love having the school's principal, the only adult in my life that would extend kindness and understanding to me, being out sick for days without explanation.

And over.

And over. Lula's fur is so silky soft

And over.

I love the pain turning to a dull, crushing ache.

And over.

And over. It's a good soft texture in a world of

And over. bad textures and bad people

I love days turning to weeks.

And over.

And over.

A

I love becoming desensitized

And over please get better soon it's gotten so bad

And oer please come back I'm begging you

A d ov r

I love weeks turning to months.

I love becoming depersonalized.

And over.

And over.

And over.

I love the temporary substitute.

And over.

And over.

I love how I'm a problem to solve.

And over.

I love being told he's getting better.

I love being lied to.

I love being gaslit up until the day of his death.

I love begging God for just five minutes to say my goodbyes and thank him for everything he did for me.

I love getting no reply.

I love dreaming of monsters pretending to be him.

I love waking up to monsters pretending to be him.

And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAm I in hell?And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over

I love giving up.

I love having nothing left to live for.

I'm so sorry

I tried my best

It wasn't good enough

Maybe it's my fault after all

Maybe I didn't deserve life in the first place

I love walking home with my sister and the dipshit neighbor boy.

I love that not even the walk home from school will grant me peace.

I love how he's a total asshole all the time to me for no fucking reason at all.

I love when I finally snap.

I love deciding that I'm done with all of it.

Maybe this is my freedom

I love trying to jump into traffic.

I loveAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAHell would be better than this.And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over

And being pulled out of traffic by my sister

I lovenot to stop me from killing myself

I love ovbut because it seemed like I was just being a complete impulsive spaz like always with no self control

erIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyI

I love you Lula kitty more than anyone else in the whole wide world, thank you for letting me talk and listening to me and not being mean to me

I love being stuck here

I love being trapped

I love being denied even the kindness of death

I lo

Ilo

I love breaking my arm and getting a silver sharpie in the hopes that someone will sign it.

I love that nobody ever did.

I

No

ilha

Over and over and over and over and No.

I love I've fucking had it

Į løvè being crushingly alone

I love I've absolutely fucking had it I'm done with this

I love You know what I have bent over backwards and

I love done everything I can to destroy everything

I love about myself that brings me joy just so that

I love feeling the warm light return.

I love you would allow me to exist and survive

I love getting lost in imaginary worlds on the computer that let me pretend I live in something other than this godawful fucking torture chamber where every sound stabs into me like knives and every texture rips at my skin like knives and everything is trying to cut me to pieces like I tried to kill myself when it became clear that I could not so much as breathe wi autistic retard stupid useless piece of shit crybaby anger issues retard retard retard stupid idiot retard can't spell words out loud stop being such a fucking crybaby all the time retard freak retard retard retard degenerate piece of garbage annoying piece of shit thout being torn down and beaten into submission

I love it turning into a harsh, dry, burning feeling.

I love when people leave me alone and let me draw in What do you want from me peace.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME

WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT FROM ME

I TRIED TO GIVE UP MY LIFE FOR YOU AND YOU WOULD NOT TAKE EVEN THAT

DO YOU THINK MY ENTIRE FUCKING EXISTENCE IS JUST TO BE YOUR AMUSING LITTLE PUNCHING BAG

YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU CAN'T TELL ME TO SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET ANYMORE WHEN YOU WILL NOT FUCKING LET ME

I'VE FUCKING HAD IT

NO, THIS IS NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM

IT IS NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM THAT MY ABILITY TO LIVE MY FUCKING LIFE IS SUCH A MASSIVE ISSUE FOR YOU

I'M FUCKING SICK OF ALL OF YOU AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE

YOU CANNOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU CANNOT MAKE ME SIT STILL AND BE QUIET

YOU CAN TORMENT ME, BEAT ME, HARASS ME, CALL ME STUPID STUPID RETARD FUCKUP STUPID ANNOYING HAHA YOU SPILLED YOUR MILK AT LUNCH AND GOT UPSET AND EVERYONE SAW AND IT WAS EMBARRASSING AND ALL YOU WANTED WAS FOR PEOPLE TO STOP LOOKING AT YOU AND

I love IT'S SOOOO FUNNY THAT WE CAN SET YOU OFF JUST BY SAYING MILK NOW HAHAHAHA HAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAA HAHAHA

BUT YOU CANNOT FUCKING CONTROL ME ANYMORE

I love my lula-boo, my sweet little kitty understands me.

I love how even an animal is capable of more kindness and empathy than you people.

I love that I'm fucking allowed to rock if I want to.

I love deciding that I am not the fucking problem and if people want to have a problem it is theirs to fucking deal with.

I love trying to hit someone that was trying to hurt to me and being punched in the stomach as hard as he could manage.

I love crumpling onto the cold metal grating in agonizing pain and struggling to breathe while the teacher yells at me for being late to line up.

I love deciding that I can just make myself throw up and go home for the day because I'm sick.

I love that You can't fucking stop me. What are you going to do. What could you possibly do to me that's worse than the last five years of And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd. Do you think I care anymore? Do you think I have anything left to lose?

I love that What, I can't even share the time of day with you people without someone hitting me or telling me to shut up and nobody cares about your stupid fucking Mario games. And you expect me to fall in line and write kind words for my classmates just because they're honored student of the month?

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they stop tormenting me and fucking apologize.

I love that Fine. Send me to the fucking principal's office. See what I care about being removed from this situation.

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they realize what they've done to me and understand how I feel.

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they're the ones trying to kill themselves for once to escape their burden of guilt.

What happens at the end of eternity?

I love that I'm so desensitized to suicidal thoughts that it's not even a taboo subject to me anymore. It's just the fond childhood memories to me at this point.

I love being followed for years.

I love glancing over my shoulder and seeing it close behind every time.

I love having my experiences denied for years.

I love people shrugging it off.

I love being told that they did everything they could but their hands were tied.

I love being a scarred, mutilated corpse of a person for the rest of my life.

I love that I can't share about my special interests without constant flashes of anxiety that I'm going to get yelled at.

I love that I constantly have to worry that maybe this is all just a lie and that they're just putting up with me and that it's the same as always.

I love being told things will get better by people who do nothing to make it so.

I love being told that they can't do much for me now but I'll do great in college.

I love that I have no recourse for what happened.

I love being an unfortunate case that shouldn't have happened but they can't do anything about it.

I love being told that people in the school administration were made aware of my case and that they're going to try to make adjustments to stop it from happening again.

I love not being asked for my thoughts.

I love that nonverbal autistic children are still in the same Special Ed class they've always been in.

I love that they're still treated as obnoxious lumps of meat without agency or worth.

I love being told things are better.

I love how the scars remain.

I love the flashbaWHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME LET ME OUT LET ME OUTcks.

I love being told that "low-functioning autistics" have other issues and not everybody is ready for the same kind of dignity and fair treatment and respect.

I love that I'm too autistic to be treated with dignity and too good at masking to be given accomodations.

I love having the nightmares.

I love dreaming of monsters pretending to be him.

I love having to relive those five yearsAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAHell would be better than this.And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over in my dreams.

I love how nothing is wrong now.

I love how the majority of my life has been spent emotionally-dead and completely isolated out of fear.

I love living in the same room that I spent so many years weeping in.

I love being haunted by the ghost of a sobbing, lonely child.

I love worrying about if I'm allowed to flap and rock around.

I love worrying if people think I'm weird for touching the cloth and clothing in the store to feel its texture when it looks nice.

I love worrying if it's okay to mention that a sound is hurting my ears.

I love worrying if I'm allowed to share my interests with people.

I love worrying about whether people will start to do it again.

I love being an adult in a child's body.

I love being a child in an adult's body.

I love being gaslit.

I love hearing the piercing fluorescent whine.

I love seeing the disorienting fluorescent flicker.

I love the cold, gross light cast upon everything I can see.

I love the resigned expressions on people's faces when I tell them about it.

I love the fond childhood memories it stirs up.

I love the lamp.

I cannot stop thinking about the lamp.

I know nothing of the lamp but it consumes me nonetheless.

I love living in a prison of my own flesh.

I love being a child in an adult's body.

I miss you, Lula.

growing up autistic / growing up gaslit

I.

this is the first lesson you learn: you are always wrong.

there is no electric hum buzzing through the air. there is no stinging bite to the sweetness of the mango. there is no bitter metallic tang to the water.

there is no cruelty in their laughter, no ambiguity in the instructions, no reason to be upset. there is no bitter aftertaste to your sweet tea, nothing scratchy about your blanket.

the lamps glow steadily. they do not falter.

II.

this is the second lesson you learn: you are never right.

you are childish, gullible, overly prone to tears. you are pedantic, combative, deliberately obtuse. you are lazy, unreliable, never on time.

you’re always making up excuses, rudely interrupting, stepping on people’s shoes. you’re always trying to get attention, never thinking about anyone else, selfish through and through.

it’s you that’s the problem. the lamps are fine.

III.

this is the third lesson you learn: you must always give in.

mother knows best. father knows best. doctor knows best. teacher knows best. this is the proper path. do not go astray.

listen to your elders, respect your betters, accept what’s given to you as your due. bow to the wisdom of experience, the education of the professional, the clarity of an external point of view.

what do you know about lamps, anyway?

[what-the-actual-wizardry]

DC Creature Commandoes- Trauma vs. Justice (spoilers!)

I just got done binging the current episodes of Creature Commandos, and at risk of painting myself as some sort of high-brow snob, I think the writer, Mr. James Gunn, has done some pretty genius work. Now, I'm no media critic, and not nearly as media-literate as I should be at my age, but I am a trauma survivor; and the thing that I've noticed about this series is that the main cast- Nina, Dr. Phosphorous, The Bride, Weasel, and GI Robot- all have flashback scenes that, while providing a reason for A.R.G.U.S. to imprison them, are far less focused on that than the characters' trauma. Amidst the gore-splattered scenes of carnage, we get flashbacks to the deaths of friends and loved ones, dreams unattained, and in the unique case of The Bride, pursuit by a suitor she does not want. It's all set up in a way that makes us feel bad for the Commandoes- and of course my ever-mounting hatred for Amanda Waller helps in that cause. What it does NOT do is use that trauma to justify their actions. Dr. Phosphorous is pictured to have slaughtered a crime lord and his family, and taking his throne in order to live a life of hedonism. Frankenstein is seen to have killed multiple people he knew and had meaningful relationships with in cold blood, as soon as they became an obstacle to his all-consuming quest for The Bride. The Bride slaughters indiscriminately, and without qualms, making several allusions to the inferiority of human beings (though I'm not arguing with either of her sets of guns- insert obligatory character design nosebleed. Come on, it's tumblr.) The Weasel is capable of no more than base cunning, with his only interactions being comprised of incentivized behavior- play a game, have a treat, act in the interest of more games and treats. None of this is disputed. No attempt is made to justify it. Yes, they killed. Yes, they will again. No, it is not right or good. And in a medium where storytelling so often defaults to 'if there is a reason, it must be justified', it is a breath of fresh air. Being traumatized does not make anyone's actions excusable. The characters are monsters, and the show expertly explores how they got there- what makes a monster in the first place. No amount of past abuse towards a sexual assailant, a neglectful parent, or an unhinged killer can wish away the consequences of their actions. Neither the narrative nor the characters ever once speak up to say 'this isn't fair.' Because it may once have been unfair- but they are not the same anymore, not the victims anymore. Apologies for the essay, my friends! A good evenoonlighting to you all.

[tiptoethewordsgo]

hello gravity falls tumblr, someone write a fanfic where the pines family have to break bill out of rehab to help defeat a greater evil and my life is yours

[marauders-brain-rot]

How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)

Wrote a really heavy and quite depressing chapter today and needed to fix my brain by writing something cute and fluffy. So, here is 1,468 words of pure Wolfstar fluff. (No Voldy/war, honestly could be with or without actual magic, I don’t make it clear either way so if you want it to be a muggle au then it can be or if you just want it to be a no Voldy au that works too)

Sirius was almost certain he’d wear a hole in the carpet long before Remus got home. He’d been pacing for hours now, his stomach tied in knots thinking about that night and what would come of it. 

It was their anniversary, eight years together as an official couple and tonight would change everything for them. They’d had nights like these before, the kind that would imprint themselves on their memories and brand themselves across their skin, tying them irrevocably together in a way that no one else would ever understand. 

The first was when they’d confessed their love for one another, never ones to do things by halves, that had been the night they’d first gotten together. They’d danced around their feelings for a while before that, their friendship always coming first, until one night where they couldn’t take the tension between them any longer. There’d been a screaming match that ended in a passionate kiss and finally a confession of their undying love for one another. They ended that night wrapped together in Remus’s bed in the boys dormitory, foreheads pressed together and bodies intertwined to the point where it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. 

The next one had been when they decided to get a place of their own, another night full of tears and kisses. They’d gotten a place with James and Peter as soon as they’d left school, wanting to be out on their own but still with their closest friends, who had really become more like brothers. The years spent in that flat had been some of the best of their lives, the nights spent drunk on the floor and sprawled across the furniture would live in their minds forever, as spotty as those memories were. But, they needed their own space. It had been Remus who had said something first, though Sirius had thought it for a while. He loved their little flat with their two best mates, but sometimes he wanted to be alone with the man he loved, wanted to spend nights and days wrapped in one another’s arms without feeling like it was an intrusion on their friends' lives. And so, after a very long and very tear filled discussion, they agreed to start looking. 

Then, they bought their house together. A sanctuary for the two of them that they made entirely their own. Their first night there together was one that he hoped would never leave him, even on his last days on this planet. They’d spent the day unpacking, James and Peter had finally left and the house was quiet at last, something they hadn’t experienced possibly ever. They’d gotten their favourite mugs down from their new home in the cabinet to the left of the sink, poured cups of their favourite tea, put on their favourite James Taylor record and danced in the living room to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) together with the biggest smiles plastered on their faces.

Then came the night they’d gotten engaged, something that had been magical all on its own. Remus had asked him, because of course he had. Sirius had been planning on asking Remus, but of course he’d beaten him to it. It was private and intimate and unequivocally theirs. If Sirius closed his eyes he could see the rose petals strewn about, the lanterns that lit their home, could smell the undeniable scents of his favourite meal that Remus had spent all day cooking for him. Remus had said some beautiful, wonderful, magical words about how Sirius was his guiding light in the sea of darkness, how he’d have lost himself entirely without him and how he never wanted to bear the pain of living life without the man he’d loved since they were only boys. Sirius kissed him then, couldn’t stand to wait another moment where rings didn’t adorn their fingers claiming them for one another and as soon as Remus placed the one he’d gotten Sirius on his finger, Sirius had sprinted up the steps and practically flown into their room to get the ring he’d gotten for Remus. That night they’d fallen asleep together, their fingers interlocked and rings pressed against one another’s. 

Then, they’d gotten married. It was small, intimate and beautiful, another day with magic thick in the air. Their closest friends were there, and even Regulus came as he and Sirius had mended their relationship years prior, it was everything Sirius had ever wanted. To be able to look into the eyes of the man he loved and tell him how he was the physical embodiment of magic, how he’d loved him for over a decade and still found new reasons to love him every single day, how he had never really known what any kind of love looked like until he’d looked into his eyes. They danced to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) as their first dance and kissed under the stars in the company of those that loved them most, soaking in every moment of the night together and relishing in the complete togetherness they finally got to experience. 

All of that brought him to now, tonight, a night that would change the rest of their lives just like all the others had. He’d cooked Remus’s favourite meal, gotten his favourite cake from the bakery 45 minutes away and set the house perfectly for the mood. Everything was perfect, everything would be perfect. So why did he feel like something might go wrong? 

He heard the key turning in the lock and felt his breath leave him, there would be no turning back now. As soon as Remus opened the door and saw Sirius standing there a broad smile spread across his face, the confusion coming next as he saw the setting around him. 

“Sirius?” He hadn’t expected them to do anything tonight, Sirius had been planning this surprise for a week now and though their wedding anniversary wasn’t for another month, he felt tonight was the right night. 

“Welcome home, love,” he kissed Remus’s cheek before leading him to the table laden with candles. 

“What’s all this?” His smile was the brightest thing in the room and how Sirius longed for it to last a lifetime. 

“Eat first, we’ll talk after cake.” Was it a slightly cowardly move to put off this conversation? Possibly, but he didn’t want dinner or cake to go to waste if the conversation went how he thought it would. When they’d finally finished eating and the record had stopped for the second time, Remus finally turned expectantly to Sirius. 

“Want to tell me what this is about, love?”

“I want to start off by saying that I love our life here, I love you and I love our home and I love the life we’ve built for ourselves.” He paused, needing his words to sink in before he continued. “And I want you to know that this is because of how much I love you and how much I know you love me, I want us to share our love.”

“Okay?” 

“Do you remember my cousin, Tonks?”

“Of course I do.”

“Right, well, she’s pregnant and she can’t take care of a baby right now. She’s just getting started on her career and she has her whole life ahead of her, she’s in no place to be having a child. But, well, we are.” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in and once they did he watched as Remus’s face transformed entirely. 

“You want to adopt her baby?” The smile on his face rivalled all others Sirius had seen, it practically lit up the world with how brilliant it was. All Sirius could do was nod and swallow nervously. “I would be honoured to have a baby with you.”

That night they laughed and cried, they held onto one another tighter than they ever had before. They got their favourite mugs down from the cabinet to the left of the sink, poured cups of their favourite tea, and put on their favourite James Taylor record and danced around the living room to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You). 

And how sweet it was, really, to love and be loved in return. To have a lifetime of memories together already and a lifetime of them more to look forward to. To know that their love would live beyond them and would change the lives of not only themselves but also of this new little baby they would be adding into their perfect little world and any others they might end up with along the line. They’d chosen one another, chosen love, and chosen life, and how sweet a life it was turning out to be. 

[aropride]

this post was a game changer for me. thank you ryan reynolds

[extraclevermongoose]

Honestly, hating on Minthara for being "evil" is so hypocritical if you like Shadowheart or Astarion. As if Shadowheart wasn't also brainwashed into murdering and torturing people for years and Astarion is... Astarion. And she's not any more abrasive than Lae'zel. Like idc if you didn't save her or you killed her or whatever, it's in your own right to dislike a fictional character. But stay out of conversations about her if all you have to add is something shitty and you refuse to get to know her story and point of view.

[rapidhighway]

stressed

I have to fight family again

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

one thing i really deeply wish is that i'd had access as a kid to the plural community and information that are more easily available today, instead of my first experience with plural community which both took it seriously and was nonjudgmental having been 10's era tul/pa.info lmao

[milfbrainrot]

.

i log into twitter and 2 seconds go by and i see a whole thing about bronies traumatizing the youth when... idk man. i probably would find it in poor taste now, but as an edgy 13 year old i thought princess molestia was just... funney internet humor? and i thought having fandom-wide memes like that and Cupcakes etc, which became infamous enough that people could know to avoid it, was kinda cool???? like dang this show for kids is inspiring off the walls content! and a lot is weirdly well done! it isn't all for me, but it was WILD in a good/neutral way for the most part to me.

if you were below age 13 stumbling onto these things on 13+ sites, esp in cases that were rated 18+, that's... on you or your parents, with consideration to a lack of ratings in some places. as usual i will always say that even at age 11 i could tell when something was Not For Me and hit the back button.

i think attempts to create minor-friendly places for shows aimed at kids are considerate. (i think back to like, steven universe fans creating a separate tag, steven galaxy, for nsfw content on here since tumblr didn't have a great method for filtering out nsfw back then. and yeah, it is something minors would be searching for, it is a kids show.) it just... is not a guarantee on the internet. diff fandom communities have diff makeups and hub capabilities etc and you're not always going to find a fandom mostly oriented to those considerations.

and even then it is weird to assume that people who would actually be allowed access to more protected sites who are 13+, aren't... also seeking out nsfw content because they genuinely wanna see it? i read worse at that age and just went about my day fine j;lkakldfj. some things i probably didn't realize were fetish content when i was like, 11 searching cartoons on deviantart with my age set to 18 (which was on me!). meanwhile by age 13 i was actively seeking out different nsfw materials that were darker in all honesty and all it did was make me go "oh cool other people are into that shit."

i am not everyone, but it is just always so odd to me that there is a neglect in these convos for the Poor Defenseless Minors who kinda had a blast with it all lmfao.

[voidimp]

i Ɛ> feeling reality split

[soapdi-spencer]

Hot take but bragging about how good at lying you are/bragging about how frequently you lie isn't cool or edgy and immediately makes you look like an idiot who I can't trust at all

[dandyshucks]

also I got rly scared abt this last night or the night before because I suddenly realized sometimes people interpret it this way,,

so i just wanted to say that the reason i dont interact w people very much is NOT bc i think im better than ppl or anything - i am just very genuinely Petrified of messing up in social situations, to the point that I end up isolating and avoiding rather than risk making mistakes ^^;; WHICH ISN'T HEALTHY but . i havent figured out how to work through this yet dhdjdkl

BUT YEAH i just wanted to try to make sure nobody is thinking I'm some hoity-toity goober, I am literally just Extremely Terrified fjdjdkdl

[cherrysnax]

oh chara dreemurr, we’re really in it now

[letmeliedown]

toast finally managed to poop earlier and i was finally able to get liquid meds in her mouth without help (can't mix buprenorphine with food because it has to directly contact the mucus membrane). her vet appointment is on tuesday (right after the pain clinic appointment i thought was last week and showed up on the wrong day for)

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[icelogged]

*2015 voice* i wish i had the chillness instead i got the mental illness