#i went out of my way to figure out how to disable reblogs for this post instead of just trying to make it look unappealing to reblog

[asksoldieron]

SO-20: "I just… um… Words. Sometimes. You know."

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for A Little Loopy (249|20) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Okay! I may get myself in trouble here because I have to talk about this instalment when I'm still a little messed up about someone (with the BEST intentions) correcting the language I use to talk about, uh, loosing my language. They increased my anxiety about a word I need to use sometimes to get appropriate care, to the point where I won't be able to use it to get appropriate care right now, if I have to. I'm slightly less safe going out in public alone, with one less way to catch myself if I fall, and that makes everything worse because I know it. No matter how noble the intent, that's not okay. But Tumblr is the sort of place I could get in trouble for saying it's not. Because some folks here want to file me according to their perception of just how disabled I am, and then tell me how I should be acting. I'm really not sure how that's supposed to help everyone, but some folks are convinced it will.

But, Erik's meltdown here is mine, at least as far as the words go. I went back and changed it out of spite after I wrote it, because someone induced that kinda meltdown in me, and sometimes I wanna punch people until they develop empathy. I know it won't work, but I really, really wanna. I opened the doc and said to the spouse, "Fuck it, no words at all. If they love him, they'll figure it out." But, of course, I didn't say that. I said "totally nonverbal." And there is discourse about that. My God, is there discourse!

I don't like performing my pain in an attempt to get others to treat me how I want to be treated. And how I want to be treated is please, please don't make it harder for me to find a word I can use to get people to back off and let me put myself together when I can't find hardly any words. Erik has a hard time finding words he doesn't use a lot, so that word's not likely to come out of him. I have a hard time finding words that aren't specific, so it might come out of me. But I do need to be able to use it when I'm not struggling, sometimes, or it gets harder to find. Like now.

I did go write down some of what my deal is, and how I feel, after that person politely nudged me into my place. But I didn't post it anywhere because I don't wanna tell it to the world. At least not right now. That's inviting more well-meaning people to categorize me and I have enough on my plate. Please just remember, not everyone who fails to play by the rules is dog-whistling to cause harm, or just being entitled. And you're not entitled to demand, "Prove it."

I know if Erik could say "nonverbal" someone would pop up to tell me, "no, bad writer." But I do wonder, if ya had to sit him down in the hotel room and say it to his face as he breaks down crying with no words to explain how to help him, would anyone say, "You can talk most of the time. That word is wrong for you. Pick another"? I really hope not. But, if someone said that when he was having a good day, he'd remember it. He'd still remember (at some point, heh, poor kid) when he's having a meltdown. Being scared and upset doesn't erase someone trying to take that word away from him so he can't use it ever, because he's not having a hard enough time in comparison to someone else.

It's hard for me to stick up for myself, but - oh, man - I will come for you if you hurt my boy. Please try not to. We all hurt each other without meaning sometimes, so all I can ask is that you try.

There is so much that would make this world better and more accessible for all of us. Just for example: safe, affordable housing for all, and not having to drive everywhere to get healthcare and/or food. It can't just be for the least of us, because then we hafta fight each other for the title of "least." I don't wanna. I'm real tired of it. Why isn't everyone?

[Back to Site?]

*Art Edit: My reference image is from Voodoo Child by Rogue Traders, and I think I pulled it off. I mean, if you've seen the video, I think you'll recognize it.

And if you haven't, it still makes sense. Poor Erik!

I can point out exactly where I screwed up, too, and the Glaze artifacts stick out like crazy (to my eyes, anyway). Nevertheless, Erik look like Erik, and I'm happy with his design in this style. Happier than I have been with how he looks in my art-deco-ish style! I'll have to put the HQ version in the Ko-Fi store.

[anonofseasons]

The reason the rest of Seasons went up is that I figured I'd better just do it before I lost all drive to share ever again and didn't at least complete Seasons for the remaining readers. It's the only thing I've written (outside of fandom) that has gotten much attention. It was nice, and I really appreciate that anyone would read it. But outside of that, I cannot get more than the tiniest handful of people to care about what I write, and it has been that way for years. It's discouraging, I'll be honest. My already-low confidence keeps taking beatings. I used to be more active with fandoms and posting fics, but one fandom/ship soured the experience for me. (Long story short, a lot of that ship's writers were bullied out by much more prominent writers. One of those popular writers mocked content from my fics in vaguetweets every time I posted, and I couldn't keep calling it a coincidence after a while.) I'd hear "you only write manbabies" (yeah more than once) and "you write too much of this" or be told my characterization wasn't realistic. But mostly? It just goes ignored. So I think, "I have to work harder and be better so people will be interested in reading it."

I don't know how other people manage to get word out about their writing. AO3 is great for sharing what I don't plan to publish/what can't be published, but what about what I do want published? I want to be a career author. And I struggle bc I'm dealing with problems that have a hand in worsening each other: financial struggles, living with my shitty parents, and bad health/disabilities. I need something in my life to work out for once. The pressure is on to be successful at something, but I just keep getting older and physically worse. My friend is willing to take me in when they find a place, we hope that's this year, but I can't live off of them, and I can't just sometimes cook and clean when I have spoons to make up for that. I need an income. I want writing to work out. But it just dies on my social media, with very few interactions, if any at all. I had a ton of stuff I wanted to finish for Seasons this month and into October to share with everyone in my excitement. But I'm losing my will to share anything. I only feel foolish when I try. Everything I do only proves my critics right, so it's embarrassing. Why even bother to try? It's been fourteen years of trying to get anything I write seen. I don't plan to stop writing btw, it's the sharing that's so difficult. I've been told countless times to write for myself when I express my despair, and guess what? That's good advice I've been taking this entire time! Who else could I be trying to please at this point? I have no one to please lmao, it's just me doing stuff I wanna do! The reaction to the ending of Seasons has me hesitant to give up on sharing, bc clearly lots of people connected to it in different ways, and that's wonderful. It makes me think sharing isn't so bad! But I just don't know if - at my age and health - if I can keep trying. I have two books I want to self-publish soon, and they feel like they'll just end up like everything else I post over at @mcalhenwrites - 6 notes and 5 of them are my reblogs! (And it's the same across all social media platforms - or it's even worse.) I'm really thankful that sharing Seasons gave me a taste of what it was like to connect with people through my writing, though. I don't think any of the people who commented or sent me asks realize how much it really helped me through this year, but it did. I started to have a little hope that maybe it wasn't a skill issue on my part, at least? ;A; And here's the thing: I don't really hate my writing all that much. I just fear it's got things wrong with it that I can't recognize, and that's what's putting potential readers off. I do believe my hard work shows, but hard work =/= good enough. My style is getting closer to the skill level I dreamed of having. I'm proud of my characters. But what's missing? I know that being a creator of any kind - even professional - is extremely tough, especially right now. I know this is a struggle for a lot of authors, artists, etc. :'( I just... I want to write as a career so I can keep doing more of it. I rarely have the spoons to keep up with anything. Writing is flexible. I love doing it! I just want to explain how I feel and what I'm dealing with, and why I'm so desperate. If you read this, know that it really helps creators to have our work recommended, boosted, etc. Authors matter as much as artists. I've been trying to train myself for the nth time to not be online and talk about my writing in any capacity. It hasn't worked before - I'm always too stupid to commit to giving up - but at what point in 14 years of complete failure with a side of humiliation does one just learn to give up? And to give some further insight into my thinking process: when I uploaded the remaining chapters, I put Seasons in my private collection (which holds 87 of my works out-of-bounds to anyone but me) so I could upload all the chapters without risking annoying my subscribers. Since 11 chapters in one night is a bit much, eh? :') Ugh, idk why tumblr won't let me edit anything or post long stuff. So I'm cutting this short I guess!

[a-method-in-it]

Girl what the hell is that last post you just reblogged.

(((They))) leave out or what.

Have you considered that you just did not pay that much attention during history class, because I learned about many of these things.

Jesus Christ half of that Tweet chain is just antisemtic conspiracy theories with 'zionists' instead of jews, as if that's not something the alt-right has started doing years ago.

Calling jewish people 'white' as if that's what the perception was at the time or makes any sense considering Jewishness is an ethnicity.

Fucking hell. You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk. But a claim that the goddamn Holocaust wasn't explicity and overwhelmingly targeting Jews with most others as afterthoughts is insane and history denying.

Literal textbook antisemitism.

Hi --- From the sound of this ask, you're someone who follows me, and as such I wish you hadn't sent this on anon so that I could reply privately, but here goes.

I assume you are talking about this post? That's the closest thing that I can find in my reblogs to what you're describing, though a lot of what you say about it here isn't actually true.

The post does not call Jewish people white --- it says that the way the Holocaust is presented in mainstream education seems designed to portray Jews as perfect white victims who didn't even fight back, which is obviously not true. (The fact that it's not true, including the white part, is what the Twitter user is pointing out.)

It also never claims that the Holocaust was not overwhelmingly targeting Jews, and I honestly don't know where you got that.

Also, I can't speak to where you went to school, but as a middle class white American, I actually was not taught anything in school about the Herero and Nama genocide, the presence of armed Jewish resistance to the Nazis, the fact that Hitler was inspired by the Armenian genocide, and certainly not that he was inspired by the genocide of indigenous peoples in the United States. (I did in high school learn that the Red Army liberated the camps and that people other than Jews were targeted as well, including Romani and disabled people; I have, however, had friends who were surprised to learn this as adults.)

You seem to think this post was criticizing the way that Jewish people talk about the Holocaust, but unless you think that Jewish people are in charge of all education policy (which would be a weird thing to think?) I don't see how you're getting that at all. The post specifies it's about Holocaust education, which I read as the things people are taught in school.

For what it's worth, I have found that Jewish sources of information about the Holocaust are actually less likely to fall into these traps than mainstream American ones, just speaking from my own experience.

I will say I'm not thrilled with the way the Twitter user makes the leap to saying that this type of education is deliberately meant to further zionism. I think that's a stretch. I reblogged it anyway because I thought it was overall making good points. I might wind up deleting it; I certainly take it seriously when something reads to Jewish people as engaging in anti-Semitic tropes, and if you have more to say about why you think this does that, I truly am happy to listen. I don't really see it that way, but as a goy, I often miss things.

But yeah. I feel like this would have been a better convo to have non-publicly, and I wish you hadn't chosen to go the anonymous route. I don't know what to make of statements like "You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk." coming from an anonymous ask. Are we mutuals? Have we interacted? Or are you basing this assessment purely on my online presence? Are you treating me like some quasi-public figure because I *checks notes* have a pseudonymous account on the internet's least popular social media site or have I offended someone I know and have some online relationship with?

If you want to send a chat or an ask I can answer privately, I'm happy to keep talking, but if you send another anonymous message, I will not be replying.

[storiesandthingsofthatnature]

Chapter 1: Let’s Begin

Hi there! I have NEVER really posted on this blog save for reposts. This is supposed to be a side blog for stories and after many years it shall become one! I am currently working on a few stories with ocs and this one is for five nights at freddy’s. Basically a young woman named Stella has been hired by Freddy’s Mega Pizzaplex and finds herself in an interesting relationship with SunnyDrop and MoonDrop. Here is the first chapter of the story. Reblogs and likes are my life blood and help me keep going! comments would be nice too! :D Thank you!  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There had been many red flags from the jump, the ad itself consisting of sketchy info and a vague description of the jobs’ responsibilities. From the looks of things the money that was spent for each print seemed to have been dumped more so on the graphics and sub-categories of shameless plugging for their merchandise and other affiliated products/businesses. The fact that Stella was never called in for an official interview and was only contacted to be told she had gotten the job and they would need her account info and her basic identification with no other context should have been the deal-breaker. No background checks. No further inquiries on past jobs. Yes, many red flags lay piled near her feet. Yet she simply stepped over them and walked into a place of nightmares.  However, in the beginning, she was quite relieved she hadn’t been grilled so thoroughly. She wasn’t sure what this establishment truly looked for in an employee, but she was sure that one look at her record would have been enough for an immediate no. It always was with every other job she tried to snag. Although her history was not that of crime, her rep sheet was enough to portray that she was no good. Homicidal tendencies. Manic depression. Her paranoia led her into a trove of trouble and misunderstandings that ultimately ended in her termination from the company.  She meant well! She did. But, being her age she was still trying to figure out who she was. She didn’t mean to be so bleak but right now she’s grasping at straws. Being a young adult she wasn’t prepared for the responsibilities that filled her already overfilled plate of things she was unable to do on her own. It was pathetic. She relied heavily on her small group of “family”. Albeit, it only consisted of four, herself included. However, the other three did end up coming together to discuss Stella’s mental state. She had just recently been laid off for the fourth time in two months. She was fried and with no reason to go outside, she was left to slowly fall into madness surrounded by the same four walls. They agreed that she needed to get out and even went as far as to search around for suitable jobs or side errands that would accommodate Stella's “mental disabilities.” And now, here she was, an unmoving rock amongst a continuous tide of patrons and various employees. There never seemed to be a day when Freddy’s Mega PizzaPlex was ever slow, let alone barren. However, she was told that the overnight security shift would be the right fit for her; little to no human interaction and management are more lenient on “professional” etiquette.  Taking in what seemed to be the umpteenth deep breath that day, she forced her legs into motion. The way to the office felt like a fever dream - as though she was on autopilot. Nothing seemed real but, at the same time, everything was surreal. No matter the workplace, her inability to function in the most basic of public spaces is cause for alarm. Before she knew it her hand wrapped around the cool metal door that led into the main office. She approached the desk, a middle-aged woman behind an arched row of monitors. Stella wondered how she could keep track of anything. Then again, she most likely didn’t have ADD. Her hands fluttered on the lip of the counter, Stella having a hard time even announcing her presence. But she couldn’t stay like this for too long. Either she was going to be met with silence from a none-the-wiser employee and labeled as a creep/idiot on the security cameras, or they were going to awkwardly meet each other’s gaze which would then add to Stella’s aura of inner tension. So, after giving a few thrums of her fingertips along the cool, colorful surface she found enough courage to give a small clear of her throat. The sound of fluid typing ceased and Stella did her best to keep her anxiety at bay. She needed to be normal.  “May I help you?” Stella chewed on her lip,” I-I’m Stella? Stella Salazar. I have an appointment with an officer Steve?” She sucked in a sharp breath, a very unneeded paranoia engulfing Stella while the woman behind the counter searched up her name. “Ah, yes! Thank you for coming in. I’ll go let him know. One moment.” She gave a small smile, the woman disappearing into a backroom that was shielded by shelves adorned with various Pizzaplex merchandise.  Having some time to herself, even if it may be moments, Stella took the chance to reflect. Manic Depression is one thing but to have the title “homicidal risk” is something that Stella never would have imagined weighs so much. No one needed to find out. Well, the ones that had no business in the matter whatsoever. However, she was starved - emotionally and mentally, mostly. She was given opportunities to open up to many people and amongst her confessions, her homicidal tendencies would fly right off of her loose tongue. After this, it always ends the same. They say they completely understand. But who feels the same with anyone when one finds out they have impulses to kill things with no provocation whatsoever?  It’s slow. The disconnection. Their excuses became more frequent and what used to be so intricate in its design slowly turned into half-assed lies that Stella became far too tired to even acknowledge. Then, she’s on her own once more. She was wondering when her current friend group would inevitably do the same; realize how fucked up Stella is and come to the logical conclusion to distance themselves from a walking disaster. It was a matter of time, she was sure.  Fingernails dug into the soft pads of her hands, Stella gnawing on her lip. No matter how long she is going to be welcomed, she needs to help out in some way. So, if they offer her this chance then she is going to take it with the utmost gratitude. She could be homeless. Why wasn’t she…“ Ms. Salazar?” Her last name ripped her away from her self-loathing, an automatic smile filling in her once tense grimace. “That is me!~” She chirped. With shaky legs, she followed the receptionist to the back. They passed through intricate hallways covered with posters of each mascot. Random plushies could be seen on the window ledge for each office. Some seemed to be more biased than others, considering a few had a plethora of Roxy merchandise. Something within her felt that perhaps that wasn’t a good sign. But she was brought out of her immersion by a rather energetic and boastful voice. “Ms. Salazar, is it?”  A middle-aged male walked up to Stella and shook her hand with a firm grip. Out of habit, she looked away, eye contact a problem that she was currently working on. “H-Hello. And yes, it is.” She retracted her hand quickly, the motion not going unnoticed by the ever-vigilant Officer Steve. However, it was probably a sensitive topic considering. So. he made an internal deal to get to know Stella and find out her backstory. It was said that no one can escape the curious mind of Steve Henderson. “Pleased to meet you! I’m Steve Henderson, aka, Officer Steve. I’m the head security officer for this Megaplex location and I’ll be conducting your appointment this afternoon. Please, have a seat.” He led her into his office and motioned for her to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk. She took a seat, Stella placing her backpack next to her on the floor. Twitchy fingers clutched around her knees while her right gently tapped from the soft children’s music that floated into the back office. “Just one moment while I get all the necessary papers.” He said with a smile, the male bowing over to search through his bottom file draw. While he mumbled to himself about organizing his papers better, Stella took the time to idly look at the overly decorated office. There wasn’t a particular theme; it seemed that whatever item he received from this place made its way to display here. There was no bias either, with an equal amount of PizzaPlex paraphernalia strewn throughout the small space.  But then she noticed the two plushies of both MoonDrop and SunnyDrop. She tilted her head slightly, a fond smirk playing on her lips. She loved SunnyDrop for as long as she could remember, the mascot coming to life in her younger years. She had a lot of SunnyDrop-related merchandise, Stella having an internal battle earlier on whether it would be weird if she came in her Sunny Hoodie. But, in the end, she decided against it and came in a loose-fitting sweater.  But then there was MoonDrop, a character that came a little after SunnyDrop’s debut. When she first saw him on TV, she was told that she had cried all night. Present-day he still gives her the chills but at least she doesn’t have night terrors anymore. “Spotted them didja?” She jumped in her seat, gaze returning to the officer. “Uh…Yeah.” She gave a breath of a laugh. “Sorry.” He gave a laugh of his own, “ Please, no worries! I don’t mean to show any bias but I will say that befriending them both was a real challenge.”  That caught her attention, Stella wanting to ask for him to expand more on it. But was beaten to the punch by Steve. “Well then.” He smacked his hands together and rubbed his palms. “Let’s begin!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stella had only been exposed to a quarter of her new workplace and already she was overwhelmed. However, after years of schooled suppression, her anxiety was left to pool within her very core. Something to add to the firepower of her approaching breakdown, but now just wasn’t the time to mull over what will be. She needed to pay attention. She transitioned back to reality, her “guide’s words becoming coherent once more. “...really, no kidding. Anyways, the next place on our little tour is the daycare! Does the name SunnyDrop sound familiar to you?” The older male asked, head cocking slightly towards Stella. The smaller gave an affirmed hum. “Course! He hasn’t been around for long but I love his design.” Stella mused. “Though, I will admit.” She continued with a breath of a laugh. “His counterpart is a tad creepy.” Her confession was met with a hearty laugh. “Completely understandable! Quite a few of the other employees feel the same. But, in my opinion, he’s a shy introvert who is very misunderstood. When one thinks of the dark, one can’t help but affiliate it with bad things. But! I gotta tell ya. The daycare is a sight to see when it’s dark.” Stella eyed the other with interest, the male’s voice laced with that of fondness. “You and MoonDrop sound close.” She couldn’t help but say.  Steve simply nodded coupled with a small grin. “Being a “veteran” of this place, I’ve grown very close with each animatronic. I couldn’t help but try my hand at befriending every single one of them, even if they are very apprehensive at first.” He said with a small chuckle, his face expressing that of a past, pleasant memory.  Before Stella could inquire further, the sound of playful children’s music caught her attention. They stopped in front of a large set of double doors. They looked heavy and sturdy which mimicked the appearance of safety, the very thing an establishment like this wants parents to feel. To provide them enough peace of mind to spend their money freely for both themselves and their children.  Steve stepped up, his hand in a fist as he knocked on the left door. He then stepped back, the large male unable to suppress an excited grin. “He is a hoot, you’ll see.” His excitement was contagious and already Stella could feel her pulse quicken beneath her olive skin. The sound of bells could be heard, each jingle growing in volume as something approached the double doors. It was then Stella heard the familiar voice of the jovial sun jester. “Oh, goodie! Friends! Who could it be, who could it be?” Their innocent quip was enough to make Stella’s heart squeeze.  The left door was opened with enthusiasm, and the head of SunnyDrop immediately peeked around to see who had come to his daycare. “Officer Steve! What a pleasant surprise! You usually don’t come by until well into the night!” It felt like every sentence from Sunny ended with an exclamation point, Stella unsure of how he was not exploding from the amount of energy swirling within him. “We got a newbie tonight. I’m showing her around, introducing her to everyone.” Steve stepped aside as Stella unknowingly shuffled behind the male so Sunny wouldn’t look at her. But now she was in the limelight and the fact she was new sent Sunny into an energetic spiral.  “New friend?! Goodie!!” The sun jester opened the door further, the music from the overhead speakers spilling out further into the lobby. Out of habit, her foot gently tapped to the beat of the simple song, the action not going unnoticed by the animatronic. But they said nothing as they danced around the female, sizing up his new friend. “You’re very pretty! What’s your name? Is that your natural hair color? Oh, I like your eyes!” The amount of attention she was receiving was too much and she looked at Steve for help. Picking up on her silent SOS, Steve stepped in to gently pry away Sunny who was currently staring into Stella’s icy blue eyes. “Sunny, boundaries. Remember what we talked about?”  Suddenly, Sunny did a back step and elegantly landed on one foot. “Right! My apologies.” He scratched at his faceplate in a sheepish way, a blush a fitting addition for the situation if Sunny held the ability to produce one. “But those questions still stand!” He placed his hands behind his back, a feigned sense of proper etiquette encircling the ever-smiling animatronic. Stella took a moment to recall his questions,” My name’s Stella. And yes, it is.” She patted at her loose bun, the female choosing to come into her first day of work in casual attire considering she was simply receiving the grand tour for tonight. Her hair was dark but when in the right lighting you could see the gleam of dark purple within the highlights. And in the right conditions, the hue of ruby red could be seen amongst her ends. Her skin was a honey color, a great contrast to her freezing eyes. Her pupils were ghostly and to some people, it made them uncomfortable. The colors were just too sharp, it seemed.  Among her small frame, she wore a large, loose-fitting sweater. She hadn’t received her shirt or security jacket yet so she improvised with her top. But as for her bottoms, she wore black jeans that, while not unique, filled the criteria for the “proper” employee dress code.  The sound of jittering mechanics emanated from Sunny, the jester having a tough time refraining from invading Stella’s personal space again. Steve couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the animatronic, the so-called veteran took aback by his old friend’s behavior. “SunnyDrop, are you okay?” The concern in his voice seemed to flip a switch within the sun jester, his shaking immediately ceasing as he turned to Steve. “Yes, yes! I’m A-Okay!” He declared, his hands rubbing together from what seemed to be residual anxiety. “Too much Fizzy Fazz, perhaps.” Sunny supplied an excuse, and Steve gave a hesitant nod. He didn’t seem convinced, but for now, he was going to leave it.  “Anyhow, we need to get going Sunny.” His rubbing hands slowly came to a stop, an aura of sadness contradicting his large smile. “Oh? You’re leaving so soon?! B-But, I had so many things planned!” Steve chuckled. “Sunny you didn’t even know we were coming. How did you plan anything?” Sunny gave a light laugh, the fluttering sound comforting to Stella. “It’s never hard for me to make up fun activities on the fly!” Sunny said, gently patting Steve on the head for not getting such a simple thing. “Pfft, of course! How could I forget?” Steve played along, Sunny suddenly whipping his head towards Stella who jumped noticeably from his sudden movement.  “I’m sad we didn’t get to finger paint together but I hope you can stop by again real soon!” He then hopped over and proceeded to pat Stella on the head as well. But what started as playful swatting turned into gentle rubbing, as if the other could feel her strands of hair amongst his metal fingers. “Soft…Poofy.” He mused gently. Perhaps he did have the ability to feel physical material? Then his touch left her scalp, the sun jester skipping over to the still ajar door. Spinning on the tip of his shoe, he peeked around the door to give one final goodbye. “ Welcome to the Freddy Fazbear Megaplex team, Stella! Can’t wait to spend more time with you!” And with that, he slipped back into his daycare, the once bellowing music immediately muffled by the closing of the large double doors.  Steve turned to Stella. “As I said, he is a hoot!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Finally, it was the end of Stella’s shift and she was free to leave the building for the day. Expected to come back at the same time the coming night, she was given every pamphlet that outlined the infrastructure that was the pizza plex. A couple of them were employee inclusive, maps of the utilities’ tunnels and warehouses, of course, not accessible by guests. Currently, she held about 6 different pamphlets, and with each anxious sifting through the leaflets, Stella felt more and more way over her head. The job itself was easy enough - Steve had even gone as far as to give her a handwritten step-by-step instruction sheet for her to follow and, soon enough, apply to her muscle memory. But Stella had no idea just how huge the entire establishment was. She had even admitted to Steve that she has never visited this particular location.  However, practice makes perfect and for now, all she could do was study what material she had and get a full eight hours of sleep. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately and now that she was working the night shift her sleeping schedule was going to get a whole new makeover. Change was something Stella found hard to adapt to, but one way or another she will find a way. Certain activities will have to be put on hold while others will be shifted around, Stella is suddenly immersed in creating a faux schedule within her mind.  A soft tapping pulled her away from her thoughts, Stella’s head snapping in the direction of the sound. Right now the building’s power had been cut off, something that they did before they officially opened for the day. So, she was walking around in pitch black. Certain areas were illuminated by emergency lights which helped her find her way to the employee exit. But, two red eyes were easy enough to see in the dark, their glowing eeriness slipping her into a trance. She should be terrified right now. She wasn’t diagnosed with it but she highly believed she had a phobia of the dark. However, she walked closer with such ease, Stella realizing she was approaching the see-through shell of the daycare.  “MoonDrop.” She muttered, the clicking of the moon jester’s mechanics seemingly increasing from Stella’s recognition. Her earlier conversation with Steve resurfaced to the forefront of her mind, the word “misunderstood” echoing the loudest. So she found herself placing her right hand against the cool glass, Moondrops own dominant hand mirroring hers. “I’m sad we didn’t get to talk more, but I hope to see you again real soon.” She chirped at the night animatronic, Sunny’s last words to her remade in her rendition. She didn’t know if Moon would catch on, but internally she had a feeling she shouldn’t doubt the intellect of these mascots.  And her instinct seemed to be correct, Moondrop’s faceplate rotating slightly as his shoulders bounced lightly from his low chuckling. But, to her disappointment, he didn’t speak further. But Steve did mention some were apprehensive of meeting new employees and considering Moondrop’s reputation amongst the ones who have been here the longest, her interaction was something most likely unheard of. From the elusive MoonDrop, nonetheless. She gave a hum, a small grin graced her lips as she gave a few thrums with her fingers against the glass. “Good night, MoonDrop.” She then let her hand fall back to her side and proceeded to make her leave.  “Nighty night~” She heard the raspy voice of MoonDrop say, Stella, turning around to see the back half of Moon disappear into the maze that was the play structures. She wasn’t expecting an answer back, but to have received a reciprocated reply she clutched her chest from the sweet ache within.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And yes, there will be spicy times huehuehue

[supershot73199]

Hello I'm adding this Hear it the newest chapter of my Dan's big Daddy. Why am I reblogging it here instead of making it it's on post? Because it's a reaction to this specifically. Here's a link and the rest will be under the cut.

Barbara was directing the bat's to the various bomb sights in Jokers latest scheme. She also had the damn clowns livestream playing on one of her monitors. Unfortunately this meant she saw as Danny, her younger sister figures boyfriend, was antagonizing the Joker.

It was only when Danny lunged forward and wrapped his legs around the bastard that she realized it was all a ploy and not him being a self sacrificial idiot. She figured she should update the others on the potential for Joker trying to set the bombs of early out of anger.

"Damn it Cass' boyfriend has the Joker in a headlock with his thighs, he's keeping him contained for now but what's yo-"

Mid-Sentence Barbara froze, as an experienced vigilante and native Gothamite there wasn't a lot that could shock her, but the visceral crack and spray of gore as the Jokers head was crushed between the thighs of one of the kindest people she had ever met was one of the few.

"Forget that just disable the bombs, Jokers not a problem any more."

Damian was the first bat to respond, likely his bomb was already disabled as he was assigned the closest when the split up.

"I knew Fenton was protective of those he loved but I was not expecting him to be capable of knocking the Joker unconscious while dangling from a chain." The soft tone tinged with respect would have been unthinkable from Damian when Barbara first met him, she was proud of how far her honorary little brother has come. But she should probably correct his misconception.

"Sorry Robin, but Danny didn't knock him out, and no Cass didn't either, when I said Jokers not a problem I meant permanently." Barbara said

"How certain are you that it's not some trick of the clown? We all know how crafty that bitch is." Jason interrupted clearly agitated.

"Not even the Joker can fake having his head crushed like a watermelon Hood. Check the group-chat I'm dropping a gif for your enjoyment. Also I'm telling Agent A to prep a feast." Barbara said even as she put action to words while turning down the volume of her com so as not to be deafened by the influx of shouting from the members of the family who were suspicious (overprotective) of Cass boyfriend.

"O we have to get him the world's best gift basket, shit Signal, Spoiler you guys want in on this? Don't even have to ask you demon brat." Jason's words might have been jesting but the way his voice choked up everyone on Com knew it was only his iron clad self control that was keeping him from crying, whether those tears were of joy at the clowns death or frustration that it wasn't B doing him in.

Either way it was best not to bring it up and allow Jason to work through his feelings on his own before she tried to talk to him about it. Suddenly a thought came to mind.

"Huh, I wonder how Harleys taking this?"

Harley Quinn knew she has done a lot of bad things in her life, she had made a lot of mistakes and while she would never change where she was now, living with her beautiful wife Pam, she would always regret her time spent infatuated with the Joker.

"Harley, I know you don't like thinking about the clown but you have to see this." Speaking of her wife, Harley went over to the television that Pam had been watching to know if the Joker tried to do anything near the two of them.

"Well gee Pam, you don't usually like me seeing what that piece of work gets up ta. What makes this so different?" Pamela had the footage paused with the newest Wayne member (yeah Harley knew the two weren't married yet but she recognized the look in their eyes, after all she saw it every day in the mirror).

Pam pressed play before walking over to the kitchen while Harley watched. She admired the kid he didn't back down or show fear and his insults were really hitting Joker where it hurt. Then the kid got his legs around the prick.

"Whoo go kid give that piece-a-shit a concussion!" She cheered to her wife's amusement, based on the chuckles she heard.

Harley saw the look on the boys face and she hoped he didn't let Joker go before the Bat got there, that disgrace to clowns would not hesitate to hurt his little girl. Whatever Harley expected it wasn't the sight of one of the subjects of her recurring nightmares being snuffed out.

*Pop* Harley jumped before looking at the source of the sound, only to see Pam pouring out two glasses of the fancy wine that Bruce had given them on their wedding.

"To the end of a pasty faced try hard, may he rot in hell." Pamela said as she handed a glass to Harley before she raised her own glass in a toast.

"And a long healthy, happy life to that crazy Fenton bastard who did what Batman never had the balls to do himself."

"Hear, Hear and may his daughter never be bothered by any Gothamite worth their salt." Harley added before taking a drink. Looking back at the screen Harley couldn't help but giggle.

"We should give Ms Prima Ballerina one of my old mallets, she'll need it to beat all his new fans off of him if the way that girl there is looking at hims any indication."

Pam laughed, causing a soft smile to spread on Harleys face.

"Maybe we should give him a thank you basket, he did the entire city a favor after all, think they make a card for when someone kills your ex? Ah who am I kidding this is Gotham I'm sure we can find one."

Gotham city held its breath when the darling of the Wayne's got kidnapped, and when the Joker was killed it was like time stood still. Not a single word was said until one voice cut through the silence.

"THATS WHAT IM TALKING 'BOUT BABY!! EAT SHIT YOU PASTY FACED MOTHERFUCKER!"

And suddenly the spell was broken laughter, cheers, crying, and shouting echoed over the city, as for the first time in years it felt like a weight was lifted from the atmosphere, for the first time since he made a name for him self, the Jokers memory no longer darkened people's mind, instead relief, joy, and pure unaltered happiness reigned supreme.

Parties sprang up in the streets, businesses closed early, and all anyone could talk about was the man who brought a smile back to Gotham.

As the days passed by an interesting trend came to social media from Gotham people were buying watermelons and painting the Jokers iconic make-up on it only to crush them between their thighs, recreating the historic video that showed the end of an era of fear.

Of course things started spiraling when infamous vigilante/crime lord The Red Hood took part in the trend,in full uniform no less, leading to other famous heros to take part of the trend.

This of course led to countless arguments about which hero was the hottest, as the internet does, though it seemed that despite some of the most beautiful heros male and female who took part Gotham city would always argue the original couldn't be beat.

Hello I am back with the next of my Batfam react to Danny killing Joker story's. This one is set in the same au as my Dawn's Big Daddy story though i haven't decided if it will be canon to that story yet. Story under the read more.

There will be a bit of a graphic description in this one so gore warning here

Cass was simultaneously pissed and terrified. Not for herself of course but for her ballet students. The Joker and his thugs took the entire class and their parents hostage and with so many kids Cass knew trying to fight could result in dead children and she left her emergency beacon in her office changing room.

When the thugs finished taking them to the warehouse where the Jokers latest scheme would take place she, the kids and any mothers were taken to a massive cage where they were locked in, while any fathers were taken and had been handcuffed to chains connected to electronic winches, including her boyfriend Danny.

Normally Cass wouldn't be worried about her boyfriend as he was a excellent fighter and had a ghost form that was of a comparable power level to heroes like Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and of course Superman. However with the number of hostages he would not act rashly, instead waiting for an opportunity where he can act with minimal to no risk for the innocents.

But their captor was the Joker, an unhinged clown who enjoyed the pain of others and who was unpredictable enough to stump world class detectives like her family. He would not hesitate to torture or even kill one of the kids if he had the whim cross his mind and he had pretty good reflexes so it would be hard to guarantee no hostages would be in danger before they act.

Cass felt her rage and fear bleed out when she felt a small hand grab hers for comfort. Dawn was Danny's daughter, the light of his life, the single most important thing in his life, and honestly she was quickly becoming the same thing for Cass. Even though she loved Danny and he loved her they both knew that if it came down to a choice to save only one of them they would each save Dawn first. (Hypothetically at least. Cass knew they would just save both in reality because they were good enough to or would get backup that would allow them too.)

"I'm scared." Whispered the young girl. Cass quickly scooped her up in a hug before softly comforting her.

"It's OK Your Daddy is strong he won't let this clown hurt him or us."

"I know that. Daddys the strongest there is but what if one of my friends get hurt?" Cass couldn't stop the soft grin at the faith in her father that the little girl had.

"Because he's the strongest means he won't let anyone get hurt." Cass responded with conviction. Before Dawn gave a accepting nod.

"OK I believe in Daddy."

Before Cass could say anything else the Joker ordered his men out of the room as they finished handcuffing the last of the fathers. Danny was front and center and Cass couldn't help notice the look of defiance in his eyes. The Joker as soon as the last of his men had left to their guard positions turned on a camera before stepping back and speaking with his usual cheer.

"Hello Gotham, it's your favorite Clown Prince of Crime here and today I have some special guests with us today. You might recognize a few of them. Why it's none other the Bruce Wayne's only daughter and her pretty little boytoy!! They've been all over the news recently and in case you've been living under a rock recently they have been called Gothams cutest couple. So you just know I had to give them my congratulations."

As the Joker was monologing he picked up the camera and used it to focus on Danny and Cass respectively though Cass had put herself between Joker and Dawn, which gave the clown a sick pleasure, she could see it in his posture.

"Now as for our performance tonight we have a group of loving fathers and their beloved children and wives in our audience. Batsy here's what's going to happen, you and your brood are going to have to find my men hidden all around Gotham with cannisters of my Laughing Gas. When you find them my men will let me know and you will have sixty seconds to defeat my men and disable the release trigger, if you fail well..."

As the Joker trailed off he pressed a button that activated the winches pulling the men until they were all hanging off the floor without their feet touching the ground.

"I will kill one of these fathers infront of their wives and children, and don't even think about cheating because if my guys see you on this camera before their bombs been disabled they will trigger it remotely. Better hurry Batman I don't think shoulders can hold that much weight for very long!" The Joker let out a mad cackle before he was interrupted.

"So now your a gameshow host? I thought you were the clown prince of crime." Danny brave beautiful Danny taunted the Joker who stopped and walked closer.

"Well I'm a Clown of many talents and in my eternal quest to bring more smiles to Gotham I have to branch out from typical clown behavior." Cass could see the irritation in the Jokers body language, he hates being questioned after all.

"Still couldn't you have picked a different suit? You always wear the same thing. Variety is the spice of life after all." Danny continued to antagonize Joker.

The Joker stepped closer to Danny still not quite close enough for Danny's plan though.

"As if your one to talk. Look at you!" Cass wasn't sure what Joker meant by that as Danny was dressed in form fitting exercise clothes meant for dancing, as they had been about to have a class when the Joker showed up. Maybe he's jealous of Danny's muscles?

"I was kidnapped with no warning from a dance class, you had the benefit of planning this and having time to prepare. Admit it you just got lazy and didn't want to put in the effort to look good for your scheme." Danny once again acted to antagonize the clown. Who finally stepped right up to where Danny was hanging while ranting at him.

"How dare you claim I didn't put in the effort! My look is iconic and if you can't see greatness maybe I should use your daughter as an exam-urgk." The Joker was cut off and Danny swung his legs up to wrap them around the Jokers neck. Unfortunately the Jokers reflexes kicked in causing him to start ducking leaving Danny to have his thighs around the Jokers head rather than his neck. Thankfully the sudden jerk from Danny hitting the Joker caused him to drop the gun he had been pulling out of his coat.

Cass watched as the two struggled in a stalemate, Danny couldn't shift his legs enough to get them around the Jokers neck to choke him into unconsciousness and the Joker was unable to get free from Danny's vice like leg lock. Cass realized that unless her family showed up immediately then the Joker would eventually slip free and go after Dawn.

As she realized what had to happen Cass noticed as Danny's body language showed he came to the same conclusion. The couple shared a look of understanding. Cass would never have considered this before and if there was any other way she wouldn't be considering it now. But even with his powers there isn't really another solution as the Joker holds a grudge.

"Turn around class face away, even you Dawn." Cass said quickly acting to make sure the children didn't see what came next, the mothers and older students quickly following her lead.

"I'm scared momma." Cass started quickly bending down to hug Dawn again. Cass didn't think she realized what she actually said and in a way it made it more special to her, which filled her heart with love and resolve.

As soon as all the younger students were facing the wall Cass nodded to Danny who immediately shifted his legs one more time before Cass saw his muscles clench. There was a muffled sound where the Jokers mouth was pressed against Danny's thigh, that Cass couldn't tell if it was a laugh or scream. She watched as he clawed at Danny desperately trying to get loose until with a sickening crack and squelch he went limp, as his head was crushed between Danny's thighs like that watermelon Cass had crushed on a dare from Steph.

She looked on with disgust as pieces of the Jokers brain and skull stuck to the man she loved. The spray from the crush had covered Danny and she could see him struggling to not throw up.

"That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen." Cass head snapped to the teenage girl who said that. Said girl quickly grew a massive blush.

"What? We were all thinking it. I wonder how long until someone makes a gif online from that livestream."

Cass blinked in bafflement as the other girls agreed even if they felt it shouldn't be said out lound to the girl before remembering that this was being broadcast live. Which meant all of Gotham saw what just happened.

It was only a little while later when her family finally showed up that she realized that Barbara and Jason would probably be two of the people making it into a gif and she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. At least she got confirmation that the child she loved as her own daughter felt the same way about her.

[jessicamdawn]

I posted 2,734 times in 2022

That's 2,601 more posts than 2021!

35 posts created (1%)

2,699 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@seekingidlewild

@itwasyummy

@kaylizle

@sherokutakari

@kashidoodles

I tagged 1,343 of my posts in 2022

#thai drama - 619 posts

#not me the series - 288 posts

#kinnporsche - 181 posts

#kdrama - 159 posts

#jdrama - 109 posts

#bad buddy - 73 posts

#extraordinary attorney woo - 72 posts

#not me white - 56 posts

#not me yok - 53 posts

#not me sean - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#the bravest thing in the world is being able to tell someone you’re sad or lonely or scared

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Just passed the 20k mark in this Clone!White Not Me AU fic

Feels like a milestone

Officially a Long Fic

6 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#4

Wednesday, I had a slight sore throat that persisted throughout the day. Since I had other symptoms of dehydration, we figured it was that and I drank A LOT of water and by the time I went to sleep, it didn’t hurt.

Thursday, my throat hurts worse and only sucking on medicated cough drops helps (which also NUMBED MY TONGUE, I thought I’d lost my sense of taste, y’all. I freaked out.) I had a slight cough and slight headache.

Friday, my sore throat was gone, poof. But! lots of sinus drainage, leading to more coughing, And a slight headache that got worse over the day (ended up taking a migraine pill cause it got so bad. was probably a major tension headache from the stress of being ill in some way.)

Saturday, my throat feels fine until suddenly I HACK. It’s like when your body overreacts to an allergen, where even the smallest thing makes you sneezy or itchy or w/e. The smallest thing tickles my throat and I start coughing (that ‘smallest thing’ being so much nasal drainage, or, you know, bread.)

I was coughing so much I started timing it and realized that, if I’m distracted, I can go 5-6 minutes between coughs, but if there’s no distraction, I cough every 40-50 seconds. So some part of it is psychosomatic. The cough is also worse when lying down.

Now it’s 11 PM and I’m congested enough I need to stack pillows to sleep. While I don’t think it’s COVID (my mom was sick first and tested herself and it came back negative), I’ve still been wearing a mask around any other people and sequestering myself when possible.

Please send well wishes and good prayers my way.

7 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#3

Chapters: 3/12 Fandom: เขา...ไม่ใช่ผม | Not Me (TV 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sean/White, Dan/Yok, Black/Gram, Eugene/Namo, Gram & Gumpa & Sean & White & Yok Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Clones, Clone!White, White is not Black's twin but his clone, becoming a person, Self-Reflection, Vigilantism, Illegal Activities, disability rights, Rule of Law, Mental Link, Physical Link, Falling In Love, SeanWhite's real ship name should be TrustFall Chapter Summary:

White takes part in his first acts of vigilantism with the gang, working for disability rights. In the aftermath, he experiences a violent episode that leaves him gasping and certain he has just drowned on dry land. Concerned, Gumpa insists White stay with him at the garage. Now roommates with Sean, White begins to see a new side of his hotheaded teammate.

11 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#2

Things My Sister Said While I Showed Her “Not Me” Episodes 7-9:

- Todd is sus. Todd is sus when he breathes.

- Sus hair. Sus smile.

- All I hear is -flirt- Officer- we're so wrong for each other. but so right. -passion- flirt-

- I don’t know if I even know what happened in the scene. I think I was having a stroke. It was beautiful.

- Sean is like 'fuck. omg. breathe.’ touching. more touching. went from the knee to the arm. face. this is what friends do. ear. how is sean not freaking out?

- Hey, Google. Call Sus Todd

- Todd’s soy milk is sus

- stfu. I’m dying. I’m screaming. kiss him. fuck. KISS HIM. YES!

- I feel like one of those posts that's like "Yeah, sex is great, but have you ever seen two ex-enemies doing a trust fall and kissing on a rooftop before?"

- Todd is at fault until I say otherwise. Guilty until proven innocent.

- I'm expecting Black to come back and everyone is like "ew. Where's the other guy?"

- (Black slapped White) 😶 Kill him.

11 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Given that both White and Sean do a trust fall to prove their deep trust in the other, and that Sean uses a trust fall to prove that Black is not his Black, I suggest that their ship name is not “SeanWhite” or “WhiteSean,” but “TrustFall.”

15 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[glitchbirds]

tmi/transitioning related things (mostly centered around surgery in this specific post), mildly nsfw at points. also this is very long

ok why do i find it easier to talk about these things on here, a public account where strangers and vague acquaintances follow me, than on my private twitter where only friends (mostly v close ones) follow me. idk. it just feels less embarrassing (IE: humiliating) if i picture the intended audience as more neutral/mixed and not consisting of multiple people who have met me in person and/or who have known me since middle/high school

also this is very rambly and maybe not coherent. apologies. this has been swirling in the back of my head since last night and im just throwing it into text post form and proceeding to pretend to forget it exists.

i feel like for most of my life i was extremely ambivalent about top/bottom surgery personally because i had such a detached sense of self (let alone attachment to my physical body) that i just didnt care. and as i got older i at least reached a point of like, ok, top surgery is definitely in the cards because i dont like my chest and its more of an inconvenience than anything, but i never really thought of it as like, overtly dysphoria-inducing to have breasts? my main issue was (and still is) always just how other people view their presence on my body. ive tried wearing a binder a grand total of two times, but it was uncomfortable (esp since i am Fat) and just drew my attention MORE to their presence. and this year it finally hit me that a lot of my current issues w/ my chest are resolved if i just… dont wear bras anymore. because just like a binder, bras mean im constantly thinking about the pressure on my chest. so i dont and im significantly better off for it, even though i Am constantly worried by the possibility of people staring. like. i have a big chest unfortunately and (sorry) the nipples are constantly making their presence known. but like. even when i wore bras the nipples constantly showed and i hated THAT too but at least now i dont think about them as much when im in public unless im speaking to someone directly, but then i can at least cross my arms or something.

ftr. the knowledge that just Deleting The Nipples Outright is even an Option with top surgery was a game changer and ive been set on that for years. i honestly think if you forced me to chose between removing the breasts and keeping the nipples, or removing the nipples and keeping the breasts, id have to think about it for a long time before deciding, because i think the latter option would solve way more of my remaining dysphoria than the former. having a chest does not bother me tremendously because again I Am Fat and fat cis men can have large chests too, so it doesnt feel like it automatically makes me read as A Woman to strangers... just in combination with other factors.

(in the end i would probably settle on top surgery and keeping the nipples if i HAD to, if only because i suspect the breasts to have some connection to chronic pain, but it wouldnt be ideal for me. i want these bitches gone.)

as for bottom surgery… WELL. no one on this god damn website(or twt) likes talking about bottom surgery seriously, or at least no one i know, which is unfortunate because it makes me feel like im alone here in caring about it in any capacity. i feel like a lot of my transmasc/trans guy friends only want(ed) top surgery and dont care about bottom surgery, which is absolutely fine and i support that and love that, but it does make it feel very difficult to even acknowledge the possibility that i might want it for myself because its like theres no precedent. (and ofc theres also the possibility that out of my friends there are others who are in the same boat as me and just dont want to talk about it publicly, which. Very Fair because clearly i am also having issues just Talking About It.)

ive also gone back and forth over wanting it for years, and then back and forth about what Kind i’d want, though ive learned over time that phallo is preferred for fat transmasc ppl and its probably what i would lean more towards getting for myself regardless of that. though the fact that its more expensive/can have more complications/requires more surgical procedures and longer recovery time, Does Scare Me A Bit, and that circles back into the aforementioned "i feel like a freak talking about this at all in the first place" feeling... like i dont even know how to talk about having these concerns in the first place because i feel like nearly everyone i know has simply decided to not bother with this and will somehow judge me for wanting it for myself. even though im aware thats nonsense. idk. just the fact that its literally Dick Surgery combined with my usual aggressively high levels of self-isolation = This Is The Most Humiliating Topic In The World To Me. how dare i acknowledge to others that i possess genitalia or that i may wish to alter them in some fashion to feel more comfortable. i feel like if i DID go through w/ getting phallo i would just go radio silent online throughout the whole process for months on end because id be too nervous to even acknowledge its happening.

which, in general is also something i wish i could fix in myself. :/ i have spent the majority of my life becoming more and more private and for the most part i dont think thats a bad thing but it unfortunately is/was combined with a lot of repression and trauma and im just barely beginning to fully untangle some of that and now im in a place where i dont WANT to be as reticent as i am but it feels impossible to really stop; and/or i feel like people ive known for years will be shocked and appalled if i suddenly acknowledge the fact that i am a human being capable of carnal thought. like, man, fucking look at the way im talking about this and dancing around the subjects. look at it. i am twenty five years old. i am a mess.

i think my other major concern w/ phallo that i didnt already note above is connected to this- i dont mind the idea of having skin graft scars, but i DO mind the possibility of someone looking at a scar on my arm and being able to tell. you know? like idk, someone knowing im trans and seeing that scar and suddenly Knowing the state of my genitalia without me even acknowledging it. which is probably. me being extremely paranoid for no good reason, because phallo isnt the only procedure in the world that requires skin grafts, most people in the world are not super well versed in Transmasc Surgery details, i could chose less obvious sites for skin grafts like the thigh, etc. but the thought just makes me deeply uncomfortable. though not AS uncomfortable as it used to make me? testosterone has done a LOT for me the past few months to make some of these things matter less to me and get me over some of these hangups i have had for the majority of my life and i am deeply deeply grateful for that. like i can guarantee i would not be making this post if i was not on T because i would just be too freaked out by the vague possibility of anyone actually reading this fucking Manifesto im crafting here.

idkkkk. it wouldnt be the end of the world if i decide against getting bottom surgery in the near-ish future- or ever- but like. GRIMACING ok let me rip THIS bandaid off, i have never in my entire life been comfortable with penetration . it is either uncomfortable or outright painful. i suspect i have vaginismus or something similar, and i know there are treatments for that and i could eventually reach a point where i Am comfortable with it, but frankly i do not Care. while there are times where i may wish that this was not a problem i have, i am mostly content with allowing a significant portion of my equipment to remain in relative disuse.

so like. idk. frankly it would probably be better for me to go through the whole process of bottom surgery so i actually have Fully Functional Genitals for the first time ever. ftr even typing that sentence makes me want to die i am like at war with myself and my own prudishness even when i am as vague as possible. i am also cutting out a LOT of other details rn because i would probably just keel over from a heart attack if i Did include them.

Ok Well. i have talked for like 1500 words about my problems disorders and publicly humiliated myself enough for one day. if youve read through this whole thing you have nothing but my apologies. and also my gratitude. but mostly the apologies.

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

Guilt

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Word count: 611

A/N: Here is the convenience blurb I promised!! This wasn’t requested, it’s just something I had bouncing around my mind for a while. I’m going away for ten days on Monday and can’t take my laptop this time. So I have one more chapter of my Jason Todd series to post tomorrow and then that will be it until I get back. Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Ko-Fi

Series masterlist

Masterlist

Dick looked up from the stack of files on his desk as his doorbell rang. He pinched his eyebrows together; he was not expecting anyone this afternoon. It rang again and he sighed before pushing back from the desk and standing up. His eyes drifted to his gun, but he shook his head and walked to the door. He pulled the door open after a quick glance through the peephole, surprised as to who was there.

“Hey, kiddo.” Y/N tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“Hey.” He stepped to the side to let her in, watching the way she was cradling her arm, clearly in pain. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”

“No. You saw the news the other night, about the Joker?” She glanced around his living room, taking in what had changed since the last time she visited him in Bludhaven, before turning back to face him.

He nodded, his stomach starting to feel uneasy. “Yeah. Bruce got any idea who the guy in the red mask was?” He knew he had hit the mark when her eyes got glassy and she had to sit down on his sofa. “Y/N?”

“It’s Jason.”

Dick’s heart stopped and he felt like someone was pumping ice water through his veins. “That’s not possible.” He watched as she pulled something up on her phone before holding it out to him. He looked at her uneasily before taking the phone from her and pressing play on the video. It was security footage from the station and he watched as hooded figure walked in, setting off none of the alarms, and started checking each of Y/N’s workbenches for something. His heart was in his throat as the figure pulled the dust sheet of Jason’s Robin suit and stuffed it in a bag before looking around for something else. When they could not find whatever they were looking for, they started to walk out, but not before pulling down their hood and smiling up at the camera.

He paused the video with shaking fingers, because while he looked older, a streak of his hair was white, and there was a scar across his cheek, it was definitely Jason.

“I went to the cemetery, to visit his grave, and he approached me there. He’s mad at Bruce for not killing the Joker. He forgot to disable the backup tracker in his suit after he took it, so I tracked him.” Y/N said, watching him closely. “I talked him down, but not before I got in between him and the Joker and he accidentally hit me with the crowbar. He didn’t want me to tell you, but he’s different.”

“Different how?” Dick said, barely above a whisper.

“He’s angry. He- he reminds me of Bruce before Gotham Square Garden, before he realised he wasn’t helping anyone as Vengeance.” She closed her eyes, several tears escaping from them. “He said he was going to finish it. We might need you help in the future, and you deserve to know.”

He sat down next to her on the sofa, still trying to wrap his head around everything. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” She admitted.

“I’ll order some food and we can try and figure out what he might do next. If he’s angry at Bruce, it might be an idea to leave him out of it.” He stood up as she nodded and walked into the kitchen to grab his take-out menus. He took a moment to try and compose himself in the kitchen because, not for the first time, the guilt of not being there for Jason that night was threatening to eat him alive.

Taglist: In the reblogs

[stormcrow513]

Yeah it really wasn't at all directed at you, I only learned about gaiman like a week ago and poking into it on and off cause it is pretty personally triggering for me, so I'd been wanting to write down some thoughts I'd been having from what I'd been picking up and I saw your reblog it brought to mind some things I wanted to talk out and I just did, and didn't really think it through to much, I also typically reread what I write but this time I just posted, so thanks for giving me a chance to opps my bad, I really love your blog you always bring attention to things I might not have heard about,

I definitely get what you're saying, people can get a little weird about things they love in a way I too find baffling,

Though I am a little weird here because I don't have a favorite book/movie/ect I have a current obsession and past obsessions I will cycle back to at some, so I don't hold anything up as this is the pinnacle of literature/cinema and find it confusing when people do,

I also didn't read harry when everyone else did, reading was not easy for me and I wasn't helped like at all, as an adult I think I likely have some form of learning disability or maybe lasting head trauma, so I'd look at the thickness of those books even the smallest and resented the hell out of them I thought I'd never be able to read them, fast forward to when I was like 19 and watching the movies with my ma and I was like you know what I should read the books,

And I did and I enjoyed them a lot, i caught some shit that was not great but quite a bit flew over my head, I didn't know at that time about antisemitism outside the Holocaust so Goblins as bankers didn't ping anything for me I thought the way Goblins were treated in the world of the story was completely fucked up and was pissed that it was never addressed but didn't see the underlying antisemitism until someone on here outlined it and I did further research,

And fat phobia was so common in my house that it didn't click either, I was always chubbier then my sister's and mocked for it by them and the sperm donor and told I couldn't take a joke if I cried, so yeah I didn't see it as messed up it was just normal to me,

I mostly locked on to harry because I got him, the first book when he talks about not being allowed to ask questions I went oh you too? When he'd do things without and around adults I was like yes I get it adults that aren't ma are useless,

Cue me reading fanfiction that calls out the abuse harry goes through and I was like

Oh

And for then on I read more harry fanfiction and I'm not sure I even reread the books again afterwards so my attachment was probably more for the fanfiction and watching the movies with my ma then the books themselves

So I kinda come at all of this at a weird angle,

And I'd dig through the HP tags on here and I stumbled a lot on people specifically being nasty about people like this kids book and saying so while for one example having like every transformers action figure and show/movie ever invented

And it's something I repeatedly see people who bring up that 'how can you stand that shitty book it's for children' while they themselves have something they love that was made for kids and saying out right that there is nothing wrong with still enjoying kids stuff into adulthood,

Like I totally get saying HP is bad because XYZ harmful thing and therefore no one should give jk support or attention

Or I didn't enjoy it because XYZ writing choices are objectively bad

But I don't get saying HP is bad cause it's a kids book

Especially if you in fact like other kids books you prefer the writing style of

Like it just literally confuses the hell out of me

And I've been wondering in a more analytical way if it plays into the current situation with gaiman and the reactions people are having at all

Because his books are for adults

So there isn't that 'well what are you doing still enjoying his work at your age' angle that was brought up a lot with jk

I see a lot of parallels between these situations

I am seeing people once again bringing up the can you death of the author an author that's still alive

And last time people rightly said 'what?! no, not when the author is alive and using their money to actively harm people'

And gaiman is also alive and using his money to hurt people

Yes there is 'only' so many people one man and personally rape, compared to the amount of people that are being hurt by jks funding of bills

But every time a rapist gets away with zero consequences it hurts every survivor of rape

the women he raped being called liars

and every one of us that lives every single day knowing the person that hurt us is still out there still hurting people living their best fucking life while we struggle and struggle.

And I wanted to talk about that,

Especially because I've also seen terfs grabbing at this as another opportunity for a recruitment drive 'see all men are evil'

And boy does that piss me off I am very very protective of my fellow rape survivors women, men, cis, transgender, gender non-conforming ect.

With jk I shut up and listened because I wasn't one of her victims

This time is different

And as to your last part about trying to decide if you want to get rid of his books

that's a thing I think people need to butt out of, that's your decision

the books are already bought getting rid of them won't take the money back

It's down to your comfort because owning them in the privacy of your own home doesn't't cause anybody else any hurt,

We each have to decide what to do with our already purchased things, that's an individual choice that nobody should shame anybody else over

Neil Gaiman is still following the PR playbook

I'm so sick of how Neil Gaiman is continuing to manipulate the conversation while displaying ZERO accountability or remorse.

Do you think him leaking that he's apparently offering to step back from Good Omens Season 3 is a sign that he realizes he fucked up and is trying to make it right? Absolutely not.

What he's doing is making the first moves to launder his reputation so that he can keep making money off of his IP and, eventually, return to the spotlight. All of the overjoyed reactions here and elsewhere are part of that plan.

One part of that Deadline article really stuck out to me.

[Highlighted Text: Deadline understands Gaiman’s offer is not an admission of wrongdoing...

Gaiman’s position is that he denies the allegations and is said to be disturbed by them.]

This is what makes me think that it is actively irresponsible to publicly celebrate or advocate for the continuation of any media project that involves or enriches Gaiman. The fact that Amazon has even announced that Good Omens is on hold shows the credibility of the accusations. And yet Gaiman leaking this information suddenly puts them on the backfoot. "Just take the deal!" cries the fandom. Neil is no longer the bad guy, it's Amazon who are now denying you your comfort show. It's blatant manipulation and it sickens me that it might actually work.

Boosting Good Omens or Sandman or Coraline at this time is not a victimless crime. True, no one person is going to be the difference between Gaiman facing consequences or not. But it's public opinion that will truly determine whether his legacy will be impacted. That's why he's spent a considerable amount of money on the same PR firm as Russell Brand, Prince Andrew, Danny Masterson, and Marilyn Manson. Their specialty is helping rapists get their lives back.

So please think of the long-term implications of breathing a sigh of relief and going back to posting about Good Omens, or signing a petition that gives Gaiman a way out of finally facing the consequences of his own actions.

Yes, none of these shows were 100% made by Gaiman. It sucks that this is going to affect people other than him. But maybe he shouldn't have chosen to sexually abuse at least 5 women and very likely more. In a just world, you fuck around and find out.

[relaxxattack]

hey, so i still havent read knifetrick yet, but i saw the post you reblogged about it being about capitalism's treatment of disabled people. im aware that this is just one interpretation of your work, but did you consciously make decisions about what messages to send within your story? did you purposefully include imagery or motifs or references or anything else to create a particular theme or idea?

im wondering because im making my own story, and im curious about what others put into theirs. i have a few key ideas i want to send with it, so i'm trying to tie all my characters and their arcs and the symbols and everything in my story to it. my brand of autism tends towards the "everything MUST have a logic to it!" and this is an obvious influence on it, but i still also think it's worth putting a lot of thought into it because theyre ideas i really care about. i want curious readers to be able to look into my story and see how it all ties together, and i want to impart messages of compassion onto my general audience as well. i think that all art has messages within it, whether personal or otherwise, and by being aware of what those are you can create a stronger and more cohesive story. at least thematically. if that is what someone wants to do, of course.

i know knifetrick is a story you started for fun. there is absolutely value in that (in your own joy) and i dont think art without intentional purposes or messages is inferior in any way. but did you ever get an idea for an overarching message in your mind, and implement it? its cool if you didnt, or if you did but dont want to say what it is too btw lol. im kinda just looking for the experience & thoughts another author had with their own thing. (i am very nervous sending this ask. i hope i dont sound like im jumping the gun.)

do not feel bad for asking this question, i'm always down to talk about my written works, even if it takes me a bit to collect my thoughts and figure out a response. yes, the truth is i went into knifetrick from the start with a lesson/moral i wanted to explore and teach. a fun fact about me is that i have several younger siblings, who are often being taught things i personally don't agree with. having conversations with them about what is really "right" or "moral" is awkward and not really doable. but stories and characters have always been a good and safe way for us to have this discussion-- why did this character do that thing, what makes this bad guy bad, and so on. this is why with writing i don't just like to tell a story, but i also like to teach a lesson. as patronizing as that sounds, i kind of just think it's pleasing when stories have a good moral behind them. although they don't need to for me to enjoy them. but back to the actual topic, yes. i did intentionally choose to explore the idea of capitalism's failure of certain groups of people in my story. that is what the main plot is actually wrapped around-- there's the obvious struggle with the main character, ran. he is physically and mentally disabled, he is treated differently than his peers. in a way he is fed from a young age the idea that the only way he can be considered equal to everyone else is to have a use to other people; to be the hardest working member of the order. his society encourages this worldview so that they can take advantage of him, but they don't actually care about him at all. they would discard him if he stopped being useful to them. the second example of this is the other main character, jackie. jackie's society also failed to take care of him-- he was orphaned, and then immediately lacked a support system of any kind, personal or governmental. he turned to a life of crime to make ends meet and repress his emotions, but all that did was eventually make his severe depression worse and manifest itself in a lot of anger issues and lashing out. by the time ran meets jackie, he's attempting to turn over a new leaf and take this opportunity he's been given to make an honest living; jackie cares a great deal about the people around him. the missing children are failed by society in the fact that they go missing in the first place, and nobody has bothered to try and find them (although the blame for that rests mainly on watson's shoulders, seeing as he tricked the king into thinking that was being solved). scoots and clem are failed by society as well- scoots is denied the job she actually wants to have due to her disability, and they are very poor. obviously this is made worse when clem goes missing, and since no one else is doing anything, scoots stops working to look for her sister. possibly the most obvious examples i can think of are maia snail and laggius maximus. maia's children are both autistic, with one of the two showing much more severe symptoms than the other. she's dealt with this in the way she best can as a mother, which is give them things they can comfortably work on to get their energy out and be helpful without having to do anything they don't like. society fails them as well, in that laggius is killed in the pit. but the more important part of their story is something snail tells ran: "i would have loved my brother even if he was never useful a day in his life, because he deserves it". essentially all throughout knifetrick, especially through ran, we are shown this idea of usefulness as equivalent to worth; i.e. how capitalism teaches us to view ourselves. we are shown how faulty of a system that is through the various characters. eventually ran realizes that he does not actually have to do anything useful to be worthy of existence, comfort, or love, and that is the sort of “end moral” of the narrative. ran ditches the council, showing that he knows his own worth and refuses to be tied to people who only ever hurt him, and then jackie helps the king start to reform subbin’s systems so that less people will fall through the cracks as he did.

so yes, that is essentially how i explored the idea of capitalism failing disabled people through knifetrick. there’s likely more stuff that i forgot but that’s what i remember off my head right now. anything anyone else sees in knifetrick about this topic is probably fair as well, death of the author and all that. this is what i intended while writing but other people might have seen more things in other characters that i didn’t think of too hard.

i hope that helps.

(bonus: firefox completely froze while i was at the end of this ask and made me fear for my fucking life. it took so much waiting and minimizing the program before i could safely save this to my drafts and then close firefox. terrifying.)

[whetstonefires]

i saw your reblog of lesbianincelsnape’s post, i really want to hear your thoughts on how dumbledore and snape are similar

Oh! Sure, why not. 😂 I'll do my best.

So the position I'm adopting here is basically that Dumbledore is secretly a lot like Snape.

Specifically, the person Snape was, at that crucial juncture in his life when Dumbledore stepped up as his patron, reminded Dumbledore so much of himself at the parallel point in his own life it was like getting punched in the stomach every time he looked at him.

(I've also said elsewhere I think he was probably jealous that Voldemort and Lily were separate people. Like!)

The extremely vital point in Albus Dumbledore's backstory that gets neglected an astonishing amount is: his father went to Azkaban for anti-muggle hate crimes, and never came out.

But it wasn't really a hate crime. It was an honor killing, or vigilante justice. It was revenge for an assault on his daughter that could not be prosecuted thanks to the Statute of Secrecy.

The Dumbledore family was destroyed by 1) muggles and 2) the government. And then their mom died.

And that's where Grindelwald found him. Recently out of school and recently orphaned, brilliant and isolated and embittered, all his lauded potential being squandered on having to stay home and care indefinitely for his disabled sister. And knowing exactly who to blame. This is an alienated youth.

Aberforth was 100% correct to come over all 'what the fuck Rousseau you're just going off with this asshole to chase your weird dreams and leaving us?' although dueling about it was obviously foolish, but it's not surprising Albus could be radicalized at that point, even without factoring in the crush.

It wouldn't be really surprising, just disappointing, if Grindelwald had led with much more blatantly evil rhetoric than 'we will tear down this broken system with all its hideous injustices and erect a new one where we will personally ensure justice and rule over the muggles for their own good' and still gotten him.

But regardless. First he was that brilliant, embittered, horribly lonely young englishman signing himself away on a charismatic figure's fascist agenda. And then he was the slightly older, broken young man whose selfish choices had killed a young woman he loved, but had failed to care for properly.

Dumbledore despised the first one but he respects the sentiment of remorse enough to be able to sympathize with the second. He's built his whole identity from that point in his own life.

Which gets him right in that weird mental spot he's clearly got, where he wants to believe in redemption more than anything but also believes people can never really change. And that he, for example, can't be trusted to attempt major reforms to society or government considering the circumstances of his original resolution to unfuck the system.

So although Snape doesn't know it they've got this super complicated relationship where Dumbedore identifies with him a lot, and alternately cuts him inappropriate amounts of slack and is Very Weird And Passive-Aggressive With Him because of it.

What's most interesting here is that while he did usher the guy into the life choice that had ultimately allowed him to feel like he was doing something meaningful without grasping too outrageously at power (without any apparent understanding of the differences of context and psychology that stopped teaching from being fulfilling for Snape in the same way, or of the ways this could be bad for students) Dumbledore did not seriously pressure Snape to adopt his specific coping mechanisms.

Is this because he understood that this would be inappropriate and unhelpful, or more broadly unethical, or because he lacked the introspective awareness to realize that he had e.g. spent the last 70 years in a weird internal war with his 20-year-old self? Who can say.

Interesting that the result was that Snape just stayed that exact person for the rest of his life though.

[artist-issues]

How do you know I am not neurodivergent? Why would you think I'm "ranting about this?" Additionally, read the reblogs. I already did my own research. The results of that research shed no light on why y'all are using the word like you are online, in the way I outlined in my original post. So I went to the source to figure out why that is. Logical.

Yes, I've interacted with both autistic people and those suffering from diagnosed disorders like Tourrette's syndrome. My cousin has a rare form of autism stemming from a genetic disorder. I regularly interact with people who are disabled in real life. By regularly, I mean they are an active part of my family and friend group and I see them weekly, if not more often. Online, who knows? But what am I saying that is some kind of attack on disabled people? What have I said or done, other than asking for a definition?

It's weird that y'all are responding this way to a question.

I don't understand the hype around "neurodivergence." I don't get it. I don't get what you guys are talking about. What do you mean when you say "neurodivergent?" Do you just mean "thinks differently than everyone else?" Okay, well, everyone thinks differently than everyone else. We're all unique; nobody's interior world is exactly the same as everyone else's. So what is neurodivergence?

Some people talk about it like it's meant specifically to refer to people who are on the "autism spectrum" but that's not how I'm seeing y'all use it. Online, people say "autistic" and "neurodivergent" in sentences and contexts where the word "creative" or "artistic" or simply "unique-personality" would work better as descriptive words.

And what's a little more perplexing is the...romanticization of it. I just made a post about Mulan, the character, talking about how well-done her character trait of "creativity" is, and someone reblogged it and said she was "neurodivergent." When the whole point of the post is that she was creative: she solves problems with her own unique spin. That doesn't mean other characters in that movie don't also have a unique spin--Mushu ties tomatoes to her arrows to cheat at training. Is he "neurodivergent" too, or just creative? Why do you say "neurodivergent" when you mean "creative?"

What's going on here? Explain it to me, if you're more knowledgeable than I am and I'm just ignorant. Because really, I'd be glad to hear that it's not just one more case of our internet-drunk society creating an exclusive sub-culture with no reasonably defined traits to idealize and identify with.

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Hey everyone (aka the like... 2 to 5 entities that actually read my bullshit) sorry I've kinda not been *actually* posting but just reblogging random stuff I enjoyed seeing. Things have been... rough. So here's a smol condensed update:

Oral surgeon took out those 2 broken teeth... for $1700. Two or three days later, the last one on the other side of my bottom jaw crumbled even more. Now I just live with ambesol soaked gauze on it because getting it out would be around $900 in my estimation (based on the cost of the 2) that I don't have. I owe my dad $1k for the originals.

The Spawn's car had a radiator fan issue right before she left for her week of vacation in Puerto Rico. The Bf's dad couldn't fix it, so my dad took it to the shop he uses & they fixed it.

The Spawn & The Bf got back on Tuesday night. Wednesday she was beat down but figured it was jetlag. Thursday she seemed to be having really bad allergies but just in case it was a cold, I wore a mask & kept my distance. Friday Dad starts to have similar symptoms, so they think summer cold. I continue the mask & distance gig, even though both act offended at different times about it.

I also made a boat load of cupcakes from scratch on Friday because I had a craving. We had lemon white chocolate cakes with blueberry lemon frosting and raspberry chocolate chip cakes with my chocolate whipped frosting that I added a bit of raspberry pureé to. They were amazing. There are multiple adults that don't like cakes or frosting that loved them & Key (my neighbor & new bff) asked if I'd make cupcakes when her youngest needs stuff like that for school & allow her to take credit for them. I obviously agreed.

Saturday evening I hear The Spawn & Dad coughing. Now, they had both had a cough for a couple days but this cough sounded extremely suspect. So I threw covid tests at their faces & lo and fucking behold, The Spawn brought a souvenir back from Puerto Rico in the form of motherfucking covid. She & Dad tested positive, while The Bf & I tested negative. I scrambled to find a place to go so I could... idk STAY ALIVE but it was late that night. So I left the next morning & have been @ Lou's ever since... except that it was his week to have all 3 of the kids (V- a 12 yr old boy, A- a 9 yr old girl, & H- a 4 yr old girl. The oldest are from his first marriage, the last is from his brief marriage to my ex bestie. Both women let them run wild & cave to their every demand, so they are feral.)

It is now friday. The Bf was TOLD to stay downstairs, only going up wearing a mask to bring supplies to the plague twins. But nobody fucking listens to me & now he has it. Additionally, the upstairs ac went out over there so all my shit got contaminated by them crashing downstairs.

(Side note: during this catastrophe, The Spawn called me griping about how many bad things have happened since she got back and how she's the *only* one suffering. I attempted to explain that no she isn't & she proceeded to scream at me that Dad & I are simply inconvenienced... you know, my dad who is in the high risk age group and has the same virus in the same un-airconditioned upstairs as her & me who is disabled & heavily relies on a specific environment I've cultivated for myself but has had to evacuate from her own home into a place of CONSTANT noise all because she was careless on vacation & brought home covid. Everything that's happened aside from the ac is the result of her own actions. I hung up on her and when she text 3 paragraphs of abuse at me, I muted her, let dad know what happened & that I'm done providing anything outside of a place to live. This isn't the first time she's been verbally abusive when things don't go the way she expects or she is faced with the consequences of her own actions but now she's legally an adult.)

Lou's kids got to have a week of Auntie [Dr. M]'s Boot Camp, where we learn to respect each other & our home. We don't yell in the house, we aren't mean to each other, we clean up after ourselves. It was quickly learned that I don't respond to demands, require manners, don't tolerate lying or bullying, don't give a fuck if a tantrum is thrown or a dirty look is given, & absolutely give out consequences for actions both good & bad. They are unaccustomed to a woman laying down the damned law or someone consistently correcting their behaviors (because Lou is outnumbered & beat tf down).

I have also been able to help him with the house & yard (which I will be able to accomplish more of now that the kids are back @ their moms'). When he kicked out my ex-bestie a little over a year ago, he was left with the house & while she was a student/stay at home mom for the bulk of their relationship, she's a borderline horder and frankly a slob, so he was left with that mess. He was understandably depressed & then by the time he got more mentally healthy, being a single dad of 3 every other week made it an overwhelming task to get out from under it. So I did what I do... came into the house in a whirlwind of efficient cleaning & organization. He gave permission for me to just go through & do whatever I felt needed doing. (The borderline hoarding situation resulted in us finding shit he didn't even know about, and him giving me a bunch of shit like an unopened double boiler. We discovered 3 crockpots and an instant pot that he didn't know about. The crock pots went into a bin for donation & I gave him a manual for the instant pot.) When I finished the kitchen, he cried. Now I'm house/dog sitting today & tomorrow, so I'm going to buckle down & do some hardcore cleaning junk to as much of the house as possible. While the kids were here, I helped them do their bedrooms.

He asked why I would do all this & the answer was simple: I enjoy it, I'm really good at it, and I understand how hard it is to get out from under it when it's that bad, so if I can get it clean & organized it will be easier to maintain.

Also I can't go home til they all test negative & have sanitized everything. Woo.

So there's my overall update. My life is dope.

[Been a long time since I've had to do this but don't reblog my shitshow. Don't steal it for your buzzfeed or bored panda bullshit. Both those sites need to die imo. ( ಠ ʖ̯ ಠ) ]

[messengerhermes]

Content Warnings: This is a post about figuring my way out of deep depression, and so does reference sui ideation at some points, and figuring out how to cope. This got too long so I'm reblogging myself to post it all.



So I found myself shockingly struck with the desire to be alive today, for the first time in I cannot say how long, in the middle of a Goodwill. I was looking for new shirts. Because gender. It was not a particularly profound moment, but there, in the middle of flipping through tank tops of varying shades of orange my brain went, "I want to be alive." And I felt like a stage wrestler slapped me in the back with a chair. See, this past year has been rough (which is both an understatement and I'm guessing Profoundly Relatable given the state of everything for the last two years). Mid-2021 marked one of my lowest depressions in about a decade, and a resurgence of a miasma of intrusive self loathing thoughts that I like to call Timmy. Timmy is a little bitch who knows nothing, but likes to tell me all the ways I'm terrible and a waste of space. They are profoundly loud. Angle Grinder on concrete at 3 am loud. And they hung around for about six months this visit. All while many components of my life were in some pretty serious upheaval. I got through that visit from Timmy, thanks to therapy access, a month long road trip, lots of talking to people in my support system, and flinging myself into every coping tool I had. Timmy packed their bags and left probably three, four months ago. But that didn't mean my depression's over, just that I'd managed to scrape myself up to a slightly higher plateau. But the truth is, I was operating more days than not from a place of "I need to be alive" not "I want to be alive." And those are very different places. I needed to be alive for my friends, my family, my lovers, my partner (these categories are not mutually exclusive)--things have been hard enough on everyone this last few years, I couldn't be another loss on the list. I needed to be alive because people need sex education, because queer liberation and disability justice need folks in the game. I needed to be alive. For other people. I didn't need to be alive for myself. I didn't particularly want to be alive, at this place I'm in, in a period in my life in which I was (and sometimes still am) getting a lot of conversations about where I have room for improvement and a lot of rejection letters or applications unreplied to where I put myself out there. Now, when you're in the hellhole of mental health, staying alive for other people's sake is not a bad strategy. Thinking about people I love and care for and what it might mean for them if I don't make it out of my hard spells has done a lot for keeping me going when I feel like a shounen anime protagonist getting ground into paste by some villain that's revealed they're not even using their full power. But living for other people is a triage care, it's the tourniquet you apply in a crisis, not the long term strategy. You have to remember how to live for yourself.

[bookwyrminspiration]

All of the people in this fandom give me too much hope for humanity. How are you all such good people??? And how did all of these good people assemble around a children's book series about elves and sparkly horses? Is that what it is? We all just couldn't let go of the child inside of us and let that inner kindness shine through? idk, but whatever it is, thank you for being such a kind, beautiful and talented person. I hope you have a great day <3

you're right, there's so many cool people here and I love interacting with everyone!! Everyone is so considerate of others and their opinions and is so self aware about the consequences of their actions and try to comfort and connect with all the people they see.

I do also wonder what it is about this sparkly elf world that drew us all in, as it's quite the mystery! A lot of us seem to have found comfort in the story from a young age, reading about someone who didn't fit in no matter where they went. That's a lot of us! A lot of us are mentally ill and neurodivergent and queer and disabled and poc and didn't fit in growing up for reasons we didn't understand--like how Sophie knew something was different about her (reading minds) but didn't figure it out until she found people like her later (elves).

"We all just couldn't let go of the child inside of us and let that inner kindness shine through?" That is such a wonderful way to put it. I'd even hazard a guess that a fair number of us were labelled "mature for our age" or had to grow up too quickly, given more responsibilities than others without allowing us to be kids. So this series allows us to experience an element of childhood after the fact and go back to that innocence with more awareness and excitement to enjoy it. It's also a welcome break from all the hardcore/intense books that are being pushed on the market. Not that they aren't enjoyable, but after a way it's fun to go back to easier reads and lighter worlds (though the elven world is still deeply messed up).

It's also possible that a lot of us have a fondness/nostalgia for this series/fandom. Because it's a kids series, a lot of us were joining tumblr and fandom like this when we were closer to the target age range. And while we've grown out of that and enjoy more intense/complex content and worlds, kotlc will always be one of the first. And we genuinely enjoyed the series! Now I may be able to write a five page report on various problems with characters that I'd never even consider a few years ago, the reason I'm here is because this series is important to me. And other's can have that same sense of importance. It's vulnerable, in a way. For everyone to be here, it opens us up to possible hurts, yet we've all taken this and supported each other and engaged in things we like together. It's so cool!! I don't think I've ever seen another fandom exist the same way the kotlc fandom does, with such casual excitement and respect all around.

also, thank you that is so sweet <33. I have no intention to ever stop being the way I am and engaging and supporting everyone I can! I know I would've loved to have someone like myself to talk with when I first joined the fandom, so I hope I can be that for someone else. All my responses to things are genuine!! I love answering asks and reading fics and reblogging art (though the last two I've been too busy to do as much of recently). But everyone here is so talented and so valued and ah!! I have so many thoughts about this I should stop.

this fandom is so cool and I love being a part of it <33

[st-chroma]

these arguments are insane. i'll the risk of pulling the "i'm a good [xyz minority] card.

i've got quite a few mental health issues. no one is owed my exact dx's, but i'll gladly share them here. auDHD, MDD with recurrent episodes, BPD, AVPD, PTSD, schizo-affective, horrible, horrible anxiety and even worse insomnia. these cause a lot of really difficult symptoms. right now, i'm a couple months out from being able to schedule a (mental) therapy session. earlier this year, because of the things i was seeing online- and let me specify that it wasn't anything like a simple ask for a fundraiser- i saw images and videos of children without limbs. i saw images of people FLATTENED by steam rollers. i read/heard stories, saw incredibly graphic and disturbing videos and images. being exposed to these things, while already in a depressive episode in an uncomfortable (some times unsafe) living situation, caused me horrible nightmares when i was able to get to sleep. i would go into full episodes of dissociation. i was so distraught at everything i was hearing about that i was facing suicidal ideation because it felt like there was so little hope that there was no point in living.

i'm physically disabled. my diagnosis is up in the air right now because there's no one in my state that treats what i might have, so i won't know if i have it unless i can see a doctor out of state, which obviously wouldn't be covered by insurance. i was put on multiple waitlists, in multiple categories of medicine- rheumatology, neurology, rehabilitative medicine, just to name a couple. this is after over two years of trialing and failing to find medication that will help my condition. i'm at a dead fucking end, lucky i've got a PT that'll listen to me, but i've already gone through two types of PT this year with little help. i have trouble walking, and with the inability to drive, transportation can be impossible.

i'm queer. a 2S trans man, bisexual, in a "gay passing" relationship. i bring this up because while i've yet to see you mention it directly, but i know a lot of people love to bring up that palestinians have religious views that denounce being homosexual.

none of this shit has stopped me from figuring out how i can personally help. when it put me in dissociative episodes, i put my phone down and focused on grounding. when it triggered anxiety attacks or suicidal ideation, i focused on things that brought me hope. and when i was up for it, i went back to learning and trying to help spread awareness. i've been asked why i care when i would face persecution for being queer, my answer to that is:

1. human rights don't have to be transactional. lots of people don't want me to be alive because i'm queer, that doesn't mean i want their entire culture wiped out.

2. what about the queer people there? you think there aren't trans palestinians? you think there aren't palestinians that are gay, lesbian, bi? being from a culture that doesn't support the LGBT doesn't mean you're immune from being LGBT. this isn't even mentioning that queer muslims, jewish people, and christians exist.

when i had extra bad pain days, it didn't stop me from walking to a bus stop to go to the library to read about palestinian culture, jewish culture, the conflict in general, etc. it's even easier when we have these things called cellphones, that are basically tiny computers, and give us access to TONS of information at our fingertips.

no one is MAKING you reblog fundraisers. no one is MAKING you donate money. no one made you hit "post" on a fuckass blog post. the delete button is right there. i've shared vetted fundraisers. i've also deleted asks that raised red flags that people have pointed out. you're getting backlash because you made a post that made you come across as a shitty person. you're continuing to get backlash because you're choosing to make shitty arguments and excuses. it took way more effort for you to hit post than it would've to just quietly ignore the asks, more people ignore them than not.

a lot of these arguments are super telling on what kind of person you are.

"i don't judge the right-wing voters for not being willing to change their mind for hateful threats of death" first of all. you're bitching over 3 letters. "kys" is like the most mild fucking thing to classify as a hateful death threat. second, you're resulting to siding with the right, as a self-proclaimed queer and mentally ill individual, in the face of being told that you did something that made you look like an asshole? THEY WANT YOU DEAD. THE RIGHT-WINGERS WANT YOU D E A D.

"choosing to care about yourself and your own" is genuinely towing the line of sounding like a white supremacist. you shouldn't need a reason to care about the people in palestine bigger than the fact that their basic human rights are being violated. genuinely what "serious harm" are you getting from seeing a fundraiser in your asks other than an anxiety attack? after sharing what i've experienced, i'm really curious. what joy are you throwing away from hitting answer? what joy are you throwing away over simply SEEING the asks?

you can prioritize yourself AND SIMULTANEOUSLY care about the human rights of others. it's not hard. i'm glad that you recognize that you're pathetic and selfish. i hope you wake up one day and realize how miserable it is to fight against doing such a simple task. grow a fucking spine

Right. All the drama shit aside

What makes yall think you have a functional moral system if, for any reason, you wish someone this shit OUT LOUD NO SHAME? I don't care how bad you think I am, telling me to commit suicide is much worse than anything I've said. Also L bozo