#knowing i'm too disabled to fucking fight back

[a-hollow-forest]

1000% more terrified of people who moralise their violence than people who are just violent because of dysregulated emotions because someone who moralises it 'knows' nothing's off the table so long as they're The Good Person and the person they're hurting is The Bad Person

[cvnt4him]

Reader who got hit w a bunny quirk during a mission w izu please smuttt I love yew💋

I love you too bbg💕

This is actually like a great idea and I had the EXACT same one except izuku was the bunny. Yeah this one is way fucking better.

"don't be amused, it's just the news! This just in; we have more details about pro heros deku and y/n's fight with the new and upcoming villain; sphinx. A local has given us amateur footage of y/n getting blasted with sphinx's quirk! They have the ability to turn others and themselves into animals! Y/n has been out of the hero scene for a while, as far as we know with the information her close friend and partner deku has given us, she's going to be out of hero work for a while, they haven't found a cure or much of a loophole with sphinx's quirk. Next in a cat stuck in a tre---"

You shut the TV off with a groan of annoyance. Why hadn't this gone away yet? You've been like this for a week. A long, miserable, insufferable, week. You weren't alone, even if you wanted to be, izuku wouldn't let you. He felt guilty, he felt as if you were like this because of him. During your fight together he pushed you out of the way when a flying car had come your way, you'd known nothing about the villain upon fighting them. Izuku however, knew everything about the villain, he pulled his mask up before the fight even began.

Izuku always got in a certain head space when fighting whether it be a measly robber, or a very experienced and high tech villain. He always made sure he was ready and that morning could take him out of this state. He just wishes he had warned you beforehand of what the villain was capable of.

You look at your reflection in the black TV screen with a frown. You hated the way you looked. Two fluffy bunny ears standing tall before falling to either side of your face. Izuku walks into your room going completely unnoticed, he spoke and sat down your cup of water but his words falling into deaf ears.

"y/n...?"

His voice nothing above a whisper, sitting beside you while patting your head lightly. People always shipped you two due to the way he treated you, don't get me wrong hes nice to everyone regardless of who they are or where they come from. People just liked to do stupid shit in their free time so you never really took it to heart, mostly because izuku always avoided and shut down all questions that surfaced about you two during interviews. Saying he only saw you as a friend.

You turn to him slowly your sad eyes staring up at him. He sighs while giving you a sad look back, putting your foreheads together. He hadn't left your side at all besides when he and to work, but he made sure to come right back to your apartment to assure that you were alright. It's not like you were sick or anything because you weren't. You could walk, talk, shower, cook, and do everything just fine, but he insisted you do nothing he felt far too guilty to even allow you to lift a finger. He once apologized for you telling him you thought about cooking on your own.

He whispers an "I'm sorry" while your heads are together, you simply chuckle and try to smile. Your quirk had been disabled due to being transformed. There's always a loophole in quirks so why hasn't anyone found one for sphinx's quirk? It was weighing on you far too heavily for either of your liking. Izukus heart ached for you to get better, he hated seeing you like this, all sad and unable to do anything for yourself. You can but for some odd reason he thinks you can't do you just let him take care of you.

Izuku pulls away, putting his fingers in your hair and scratching your scalp, the soothing motion making you sigh and lay your head on his shoulder. He hums with a smile that didn't meet his eyes, he grabs the remote from you and puts on a movie, grabbing your cup of water to ensure that you are hydrated.

You both had fallen asleep on each other, his head on top of yours while you laid on his shoulder. You got up and stretched making him get more comfortable and turn his head to lay on a pillow beside him. You looked at him closely, admiring each and every freckle that littered his cheeks and slightly down his neck his chest moving up and down in a smooth rhythm. He looked so peaceful not having to worry and feel guilty for your current state. Your body moved on it's own, one of your hands moving to his chest rubbing up and down his body. He was very toned, you knew this you could practically see it through his new skin tight suit. It hugged his body deliciously.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him, his shirt was slightly raised and scrunched up ending just above his v line, the way it looked like it was sculpted by gods. He looked like a Greek god himself. His body was fucking hot.

Your tail wiggled and twitched against the bed light noise coming from the way it moved. You bit your lip lightly while looking down where his shorts hugged his waist. Your eyes kept trailing down his figure landing on where a tent in his shorts sat. He was completely flaccid yet his thick cock made a very visible print. Fuck this was really turning you on, he was completely unconscious and unaware of how you were fucking him with your eyes. Your hand moved down to his dick print and gently rubbed over it making him take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you noticed this and continued your movements while staring at his face, a pink hue forming onto his baby-like cheeks.

You watched as he gulped and turned his head in your direction with a breathy and quick sigh, he was getting bothered by how you teased his semi erect cock. His brows slightly furrowed while you stopped your hands movements completely, his cock twitched against your hand making your eyes shoot down to his cock, seeing it fully erect and leaking slightly against his thin shorts. God this was such a sight, it was so fucking hot and lewd, you felt guilty for getting him all hot and bothered but seeing the way his cock twitched and bobbed up and down for your touch was hypnotizing.

Without thinking you hopped onto his lap you weight sitting on top of him making him shift under you, that was almost enough to snap you out of whatever trance he put you in but the way he put his hands on your thighs and rubbed them out you right back into the daze you never got out of.

Your tail wiggled against his thigh as you slowly grind into him, rubbing your clothes pussy against his clothed cock in a slow yet rough manner. a moan accidentally slipped out of your mouth when his cock rubbed against your clit in the best way.

You panted lightly as the grind of your hips started to quicken in pace, you dug your hips down into his to feel his cock press against you. A noise left his throat as he gripped your waist tightly, his grasp bruising your skin while pushing you down more into him. You didn't think about the fact that he might've woken up due to your moans and the way you moved helplessly on top of him. He rubbed his cock up into you to feel that light friction that had him dizzy.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and rode him like you were actually riding his cock. The thought alone of actually getting to ride his cock getting you to that building release. He moaned deeply before his eyes slightly opened and peered up at you, you were too busy in your own haze to acknowledge the way he looked at you, your fucked out face contorting in such a pretty way.

He couldn't believe you were using him while he was asleep, riding his clothed cock for all that it's worth. He bit his lip and flipped the both of you, a scream ripping right out of you as you look up at him with wide scared eyes. He could only look down at you with lust filled ones. His emerald orbs looking at every feature that painted your body, the way your thighs looked more plump because of your shorts. Your boobs spilling out the top of your tank top. You looked so good and the way you looked at him with those scree and glossy eyes went straight to his aching cock. He was so ready to split you in half on his thick cock, he knew you'd have a struggle but it'd be worth it just to be inside of you. He'd wait as long as he'd have to just to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock.

No words were said as he went in to kiss you, lightly pressing his dry but soft lips against yours. A moan left you as your tail wiggled underneath you, you were so horny and you could feel the way it ate you alive from the inside out, you were so close to crying from how much it burned inside of you.

"please.. please fuck me, I need it."

You whispered up to him with a raspy voice, whining as your eyes moved down to his cock, it looked like it was going to burst out of his shorts with the way it stood up proudly.

He smirked at you with lidded eyes while he kissed you neck, you closed your eyes and fell into the soft kisses being planted on your sensitive neck, he moved his kisses up to your bunny ears blowing on them lighting, the soft feeling of it all making your pussy throb and a whimper leave you lips.

He chuckled lowly to himself as he flipped you over into your stomach. He pressed his chest and his hard cock against your ass cheek as he whispered in your ear.

"using me while I sleep? naughty thing. poor bunny, must need it badly, hm?"

You nodded your head aggressively while rubbing your ass against his hard on, earning a low groan from the muscular man above you.his weight on you felt so good and it wasn't even sexual at all.

He slipped your shorts and underwear down in one swift move, he pulled his own down as he teased your dripping hole, slipping his engorged cock head in and out of your lips. Your eyes roll as you lift your ass in the air and wiggle against his cock. he's surprised by this, a chuckle leaving him while he pulls you back by your ears, a squeak leaving you while he slaps your ass.

"you're so fucking needy huh? this sopping wet cunny of yours dripping around my cock, hm?"

You nod again, not being able to speak due to your throat getting rather dry. He hums and slips his cock in halfway before taking it out quickly, this went on for about 5 minutes, the torture was so funny to him yet painful for you. You felt as if you were going to die, the heat forming inside of you burned badly. You needed release, finally being def up with his teasing, the second he tried to do it again you slammed your ass back onto him taking his cock fully, a choked moan leaving his pink lips.

He groaned loudly while lying his head on your shoulder with a smile, he was out of breath from you taking his cock fully. He chuckled against your skin while kissing it, he bit harshly on the skin of your shoulder making you scream while he thrusted vigorously into your soaked pussy, the squelching noises clouding his mind while he moaned into your ear and grabbed onto your bunny ears. The sensitive muscle being pulled painfully hard went straight to your throbbing cunt, the way he slammed his hips into you and hit that spot repeatedly was just enough to make you cum, but he knew you were going to by the way you started squeezing his cock for all he was worth, milking him and slicking his cock up with your fluid.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.”

You command him while throwing your ass back, you were feeling too good you felt as if you weren't even in control, the way your body moved lewdly against him was inhumane and unlike you. You'd never felt the need to be near someone like this, like you yearned for his very touch, for him to cum inside of you. Oh. God that sounded so good, the thought of his warm thick cum spilling and spreading inside of you made you squeeze around his cock even more.

Just when you felt as if you were going to cum you felt the need leave. He had pulled out of your cunt with a groan, his cock twitched from the cold ajr hitting the leaky tip. He looked down at your pussy squeezing around nothing, god you were so fucking needy and that made him go feral. He could practically smell the delicious scent you released. Your tail twitched fastly, catching his attention. He had asked you before questions about your body and if anything felt different, he hadn't asked about your tails however, he was curious if it was sensitive. Out of pure curiosity he pushed his thick cock back inside of you, and yanked at your tails, his tight grip on your ears never leaving.

He used them to bring you back more into him. You let out a high pitched moan as your arms gave out, your body felt like it was on fire, throwing your ass back against him while your thighs burned from the work.

“fu— m'cum— cumming!!“

You couldn't control it, it just ripped out of you. The feeling was far too strong to hold back or even pretend not to acknowledge you groaned while sobbing, tears falling from your face due to the extra stimulation. He cooed in your ear, coaxing you through your orgasm while never letting you in the way he fiddled with your tail, his other hand leaving your floppy ears to go to your clit, rubbing it slowly while speeding up his hips.

"nngh~ izu— Izu-"

You couldn't speak from the immense pleasure, it began to hurt due to overstimulation. You sobbed and hiccupped against the pillows as he drilled his cock into you, he groaned and grunted behind you moans leaving his lips as well.

"shit...- fuck— god dammit, u/n I'm gonna cu- cum again.. shit take it, fucking take it all.."

Again?! He'd already came?? Maybe that's why you thought about his warm cum spreading and claiming every spot inside of you. Because he already did.

You couldn't move or even speak, the way he bucked his hips into yours, stuttering and rhythm becoming uneven. He threw his head back with a moan as he came again, tears welling at the corner of his eyes. He felt so good, your fluttering walks squeezing and convulsing around his soft turning cock.

He collapsed beside you without a word. His eyes closed as he tried to steady his breaths, he hasn't felt this good in so long, it's been a while since he'd last been with anyone. He took pride in his job, he'd wanted to be a hero since he was a kid, however it did take him away from a lot of things, including interacting with people and making new friends.

He needed this and he's glad you gave It to him. He turned to check on you to see you had already passed out, he rubbed your back lightly making you shiver underneath his touch. He got up to assure you were alright, making sure you water was refilled and that you could be clean, he grabbed a warm damp towel to clean you but before he did he got a good look at the two loads that were fucked into you, slowly oozing from your still convulsing lips. Fuck this was a sight to see, he was afraid he'd never get to see it again. He hates what he did but, he had to save this moment forever! A picture to remember this morning by! After all, you won't be a bunny forever.

AN: this was very fun to write actually, I've recently been in a chokehold w top!izuku there's something ab him being mean or js taking care of me that gets to me.

Dividers by @anitalenia

[yellowwwcrayon]

body swap between wade and logan AU

They fight a magic being that blasts them with body swapping mojo. Wakes up the next morning as each other.

☻

Wade: Jesus fuck, you are hairy. How do you not spontaneously catch on fire from all the static electricity in the winter??? Also, this Subway footlong you got between your legs is really fucking inconvenient. Feels like a disability to be swinging around a nonfunctional third leg on top of the other two you use for walking.

Logan: It's not nonfunctional.

Wade: Oh, yeah? What do you do with it, peanut?

Logan: Plenty.

Wade: That's a lie, grandpa. We live together. I would know if you did anything with it.

☻

Wade's body is just wired weird, and he pops boners every morning and at the most random shit he sees. Subway rat, cereal mascot on a bus stop advertisement, Times Square Elmo? Poor Logan has to deal with unhinged erections at the most inconvenient times.

☻

He also unfortunately experiences firsthand how much other superheroes dismiss Wade or look down on him for being weird and a little too chatty/unfiltered and gets violently protective.

Logan: I'm gonna fucking go over there and cave his face in. Only I get to call you a pathetic lunatic who's destined to die alone.

Wade: That's super sweet, angel baby. But ugh, maybe dial back the violence until we get our bodies back? That's my avatar you're wearing.

Logan: *chews through his cigar with rage*

Wade: *demure queen wave at the curious crowd* Nothing to see here, folks.

☻

Wade's escalating and deranged fantasies about what he could do to Logan's chiseled hot grandpa bod is driving him up the wall. The sexual tension builds until they jump each other and dry hump in the back alley or something.

☻

Bonus:

Logan leaves Wade in the car to go grab something and comes back to Wade looking like this with his face:

Just a sad meow meow he abandoned on the side of the road.

Logan: Don't fucking make that face while you're wearing my meat suit. It's disgusting.

Wade: I could have died, pookums.

Logan: Bitch, I was away for five minutes and I left the AC on.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Hi! Apologies if your inbox is a weird place to drop this, but. I have had an animorphs thought haunting me and just absolutely not enough spoons to do anything with it myself, and you're the only animorphs blog I really know...so I guess I thought I'd maybe offer it up here and hopefully it'll resonate with someone? Anyway, the thought. 47 is a WEIRD book...what could a rewrite of it look like? And from there, I've become obsessed with the idea of yeerks find the hork bajir valley, but instead of what happens canonically, the animorphs & Toby arrive at a horrible possible solution: the yeerks will be there too soon for them to just run & nobody wants to give up their home -> if they leave some behind to fight and stall they'll get infested and the yeerks will know to keep looking -> ...but what if the force they leave behind genuinely doesn't know they're being sacrificed? They fight and die or are infested genuinely believing the rest of the valley is right behind them as reinforcements, while in actuality that group is being evacuated (maybe to return to their ellemist-protected home after the yeerks leave, convinced they've put down the free hork bajir, ymmv on that). The dam & the subsequent breaking of it is a cover to create chaos and really distract anyone from wondering about the numbers too much. I just think it could be a perfect opportunity to explore infestation, choices made to prevent it, etc...plus give a lens for talking about betrayal & lies for the "greater good" and via that, actually address the falling out between Jake and Ax from 46...plus maybe foreshadow that Jake is ultimately going to pull something disturbingly similar with the Auximorphs! like I said, I don't have the spoons to do anything substantial with this concept, but yeah, I wanted to set it loose. I absolutely won't be offended if you decide your blog isn't the venue for this, and regardless, love your writing and I hope you're doing well.

I like this idea, because yeeeaaaah, #47 is a hot mess. And a classic case of "you tried to do antiracism but fumbled it so bad you kind of just circled back around to being condescending about race."

But also, I love how this would actually interrogate the idea of "you're better off dead than a controller." Because the series presents that idea as true, basically without question, and basically without proof. The only time I think Animorphs comes close to questioning it is the end of #28, and even then it's in the midst of Cassie and Ax debating a different point.

Because I'm sure being a controller is awful. And I'm sure there are indeed fates worse than death. But just assuming from the outside that someone is better off dead is a slippery fucking slope. One that causes 100s of disabled people every year to get murdered by their caregivers. You don't get to assume from the outside that someone forfeits their right to life just because you think they'd be "better off dead" than poor or disabled or communist or enslaved.

So I'd love to see an Animorphs plotline where several hork-bajir choose to let themselves be captured and infested, knowing that doing so is necessary for the war effort and that the alternative is dying. (IMHO Toby would never do this without the sacrifices' permission — she isn't Jake.) These would be hork-bajir who have been controllers before, hork-bajir who understand better than Jake ever will how precarious their entire species is. If they say "I will let myself be captured in the hope of rescue once we win the war, rather than dying" then I think there's tremendous courage in that. And I'd love to see it explored.

[cookinguptales]

Can I ask you to do a post about Disney & disability please? You mentioned it and I’d love to know more!

Well, my notifications can't get any messier, so why not?

This post got very, very long because I ended up talking about a lot of the accessibility solutions in detail (and... ranting about how accessibility at Universal was so bad that I got physically injured there) so I'm putting it under a cut for you.

To preface this, I have mobility issues (as well as a lot of food intolerances/allergies) and general chronic illness, my sister is Deaf, and I have friends who regularly attend the park with autistic family members with high support needs. These are the disabilities I have experience with, so while I've heard a bit about others (such as portable descriptive devices for visitors with visual impairments) I can't speak as much about those accommodations.

I have also traveled quite a bit, mostly as a disabled adult. I can work from anywhere and my family enjoys traveling, so I've been very lucky in this regard. I also used to live in central Florida, not too far from Disney, and benefited from their FL resident rates.

So I'm coming at this from a person who has a lot of experience traveling while disabled and a fair amount of experience going to WDW, though I haven't been nearly as often since I moved out of Florida.

(Good fucking riddance.)

So know that I am speaking from experience when I say I have never, without exception, been to a single place half as accessible as Walt Disney World. It is literally the reason my family would go there; it was one of the only places we could all safely go together. One of the only places I've been on earth that even approached their level of thoughtful accommodations is Barcelona, which apparently did significant renovations throughout the city in order to prepare for the 1992 Paralympics.

(Hey, if anyone is reading this from Barcelona: I teared up the first time I used one of your curb cuts in my wheelchair, just so you know.)

Going through those parks in a wheelchair is a breeze, though you will probably have to fight a lot of clueless parents with strollers who are hellbent on using resources intended for wheelchair-users and then glaring at you when you try to use them yourself. Level ground, spacious sidewalks, accessible transportation, well-kept gradual ramps, roomy buildings, lots of accessible restrooms, alternate entrances at many rides for wheelchair users, special wheelchair rows in movie theaters that we're loaded into first, accessible queues in most rides designed or renovated in the last fifteen years, special viewing areas for shows/parades/fireworks so you don't end up staring at able-bodied butts for a half hour...

Like, structurally-speaking, the parks are very easy to get around in if you're a wheelchair user. That was built in and you can see a lot of very mindful design choices. As far as the rides go, most of their rides actually have special cars that you can load into while still in a wheelchair. They're pretty neat. I can transfer, but that means often leaving my wheelchair and/or cane with a cast member during the ride. They are always, without fail, waiting for me on the other side of the ride, no matter how far the exit is from the entrance. I have never once had a problem with this. A cast member will be there to put my assistive devices in my hand before I even have to think about getting up. Guaranteed.

Wheelchair users always used to be able to skip the line, but there was unfortunately a problem with able-bodied people pretending to be disabled to skip lines (because god forbid they not have access to a single thing we have to make our lives livable) so now there's a system where if you cannot wait in a line, they'll basically give you a special time to come back that's equivalent to the length of the line. Which feels fair to me as someone who often cannot be in even an accessible line for extended periods. (I have problems with sunlight, heat, and often need emergency food or restroom.)

More important than all this, though, is the fact that cast members are impeccably well-trained in all of this. Any disabled person can tell you that the most accessible design on earth isn't worth shit if the people working there aren't well-trained. (More on this later, when I take a giant shit on Universal Studios.) But Disney trains their employees, many of whom are disabled themselves, incredibly well.

Every employee will know where the accessible entrances are. Every employee will know the procedure for getting a return time. Every employee will know about first-aid centers, and every employee will know where the quiet areas are for people with sensory issues. Every time you make a reservation for a meal, hotel room, transportation, etc. they will ask for all accessibility needs and they'll be ready for you.

Every waiter you have will be incredibly careful and knowledgeable when it comes to special dietary needs, and chefs will often come out to discuss them with you. They often have specific menus for different dietary needs, and they are scrupulous when it comes to allergens. I have a few intolerances that suck and allergies that could kill me and I have always felt very safe in their hands. This ranges from fancy sit-down restaurants to quick service burger places.

And -- honestly, I have just always been treated with respect. I know that sounds like a low bar, but most people do fail to clear it. Disney has their employees very well-trained on how to interact with disabled guests. People speak directly to me, never to the able-bodied people over my head. They never treat me like I'm a child. They never ask invasive questions or make uncomfortable jokes. They never, ever get impatient with my accessibility needs.

The few times I have misjudged things and have injured myself or gotten extremely ill, they were professional and caring as they provided much-needed first-aid. It's kind of embarrassing to be doted on by a costumed character while you wait for a doctor to come help you sit up again, but also kind of endearing, I'll admit.

They also, in addition to captioning all videos in the park, have some of the best sign language interpreters in the world, bar none. They're very personal and professional, they're easy to reserve, they will always be in a visible place during shows, and they're incredible performers as well as being very technically proficient. In addition to the professional interpreters, many cast members, performers, and characters can sign as well.

In addition to that, and this brings me to my next point, you'll meet a lot of disabled employees throughout the park. In front-facing positions. Deaf employees, employees using mobility aids, etc. They're well-known to hire disabled people and treat them well. This is. Fuck, this is incredibly rare, I say as someone who was never able to find a job in Florida with my health conditions. It's the moral thing to do to hire disabled people, but also -- selfishly, there's something so heartening and normalizing about seeing people who look like you working at the park. I'm happy every single time.

I have a little less personal experience when it comes to accessibility for neurodivergence, despite being neurodivergent myself, but I've been told that Disney is very, very accommodating for people on the spectrum. A lot is done to lessen crowding, waiting, sensory overload, etc. for autistic guests. Cast members are usually super good at this; finding designated quiet areas, helping autistic guests avoid more crowded areas, keeping them out of long lines, making sure they have access to any particular experiences that are special to them, etc.

For folks who need help from their group, whether that's an autistic child who needs to be with a parent or a disabled adult who needs someone to push their wheelchair or anything else, Disney has a rider switch-off model. In other words, if you're there with both of your able-bodied parents, for example, and you need one of them to be with you at all times and you don't want to be on the ride yourself, Disney will allow one person to go on the ride while the other waits for them to finish, then will allow the second person to go on without any additional wait. This makes sure that everyone in the family gets equal access without leaving disabled people alone. (Which... can be a very shitty feeling, I assure you.)

I know that Disney has also pioneered a lot of assistive technology. The accessible rides, obviously, which can be ridiculously cool (like Toy Story Midway Mania has an accessible car with alternative "guns" for people with dexterity limitations so they can play the carnival games as well) but also handheld assistive devices for visually impaired guests, etc. Like they are literally inventing new forms of accessibility technology, which is so cool.

And honestly, I'm always learning about new ways they assist disabled guests. I've stayed in Disney's accessible hotel rooms before (they're very nice!) but I don't like to swim so I've never been in the pools. But even just this week, someone told me that Disney has pool lifts for disabled guests, which I had never even considered. That's so cool.

The best part about accessibility at Disney is that in some ways it's very casual. A lot of their design decisions are so intuitive that you never even notice how accessible the parks are until you go somewhere where that's... not the case.

Like -- just so you don't assume that any of these things are industry standard, let me tell you about the two times I went to Universal, a park very close to Disney. I went there once for an event and once with my family.

The first time I went was for an event at the opening of the Harry Potter park. (This was before JKR made her most appalling views public, to be clear.) It... was frustrating. Guests asked if there would be food and drink available for people with special dietary restrictions (such as sugar-free butterbeer) and were pretty much told that no, that was not something they were interested in pursuing. It became very obvious very quickly that the park itself was so narrow that it only barely fulfilled ADA standards -- when empty. We were told that JKR had actually specifically insisted that it feel "cramped". Which is a nice way to say that I couldn't actually get around in any of the stores while people were in them.

It was overall a frustrating experience, but it was like. One night. I figured it was probably a fluke and they were still ironing out all the details. So I ended up going back with my parents later.

Y'all, it was a shit show.

Broken elevators that prevented disabled guests from accessing rides. Performers being up on raised platforms/sidewalks so disabled guests couldn't get to them. Sidewalks being made inaccessible by putting movable signs directly in the middle of them. Stores (even outside of the HP part) that were so damn narrow that I actually ended up getting hurt trying to navigate one of them. And no -- it was not easy to get first aid.

And my god, was the training bad. We went to one of the new HP rides, asked if there was a specific entrance for disabled guests. We were told no. We waited for a very long time in a line that honestly I shouldn't have been waiting in, but I wanted to be a good sport. I was pretty sick by the time we got through it, and the line itself had some very dangerous inclines/turns for wheelchair users. We get to the front of the line -- and the employee asks why we didn't just use the accessible entrance. 🙃

(Side note: several of their rides are also just unrideable if you don't fit within a pretty narrow body type of thin and able-bodied, so... there's that.)

We'd asked repeatedly and gotten incorrect answers, and I'd been put in physical danger as a result. Wild. I started to notice that if you asked different employees, you'd get different answers about almost anything, really. Just exceptionally poor training. Even stuff that should've been a no-brainer, like loading wheelchair users into a stationary movie theater, ended up creating chaos when they did it incorrectly and we had a giant wheelchair pileup.

Like -- let me stress to you that many of the things that happened could have caused actual injury to people. Some of these situations were dangerous. And some of them were just alienating, like when I'd have to wait outside a store while my family could go in.

I never went back after that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We just kept going to Disney.

One thing that'll probably show how good Disney is at accessibility is the whole Make-A-Wish thing. A lot of people know that it's a popular Make-A-Wish request, and you're likely to see at least a couple kids with Make-A-Wish buttons during your visit if you keep an eye out. One reason for this, is that, y'know, Disney World is fun. Kids want to go there. But more important, I think, is that Disney can accommodate people with at-times severe medical needs. Those kids can safely go anywhere and do anything in those parks that able-bodied kids can, and that's important.

All in all, the parks are just so accessible and you will never, ever be made to feel like you're lesser for needing those accommodations. You will be treated so well and you will not have to worry about accessibility because the cast members are always doing it for you. They'll usher you into the correct entrance as soon as they see a mobility device, and they'll do it with a very warm welcome. It's one of the very few places on earth where I have never felt like a burden.

Again, y'know, I know that Disney does not have a perfect track record on a lot of issues. I would never defend them from rightfully earned criticism. I strongly support labor action against them, and I do think they should be criticized whenever they fuck up. I have been uncomfortable with the sheer amount of power they have both in Florida and in the entertainment world just because no one should have that much power. But I am far more uncomfortable with that power being stripped away for blatantly discriminatory political reasons.

I do have some loyalty to Disney just because there is no other place on earth where I've been able to safely have fun with my friends with so little agony. That's... I mean, it's important, really. To be able to just exist in public without getting grief for it. And I have some loyalty to them because they were a safe space for me as a young, queer kid who was not safe being out in other areas of my life.

(Like, I am talking about actual literal safety. I kept seeing notes on my post saying that Disney didn't care about creating a "safe space for queer people" but as someone who lived in Florida for the entirety of my teenage years? It was the safest goddamn place there.)

I do not have enough loyalty to defend them when they do immoral bullshit, but I do have enough to make sure that people know the good that they do as well.

I want other businesses to follow Disney's model for disability. I will praise them forever for what they've done in that regard because if I don't, there's no reason for other companies to follow suit. I want to praise them for the good things they've done so they have incentive to keep doing it, and other companies have an incentive to do it as well.

Like bro, I just wanna be able to move around and be treated with some dignity, y'know? My bar is so low. lmao

But yeah. That's why you always see so many disabled guests at Disney. It's literally the only place some of us can go to have fun.

[sharpth1ng]

Ive already posted this in my server, so you may see it twice, but In case you don't see it there im posting it here too.

Im assuming most of you have seen the news about the us election. Honestly im feeling nothing less than devastated, and i would assume Americans are feeling ten times worse. Im so fucking sorry to you all, and I know that doesn't help at all. I feel angry, hopeless, and sad as fuck, and i dont know how to comfort anyone or advocate for the hope i think we deserve.

What I can do is remind you all who you come from.

Women, queer people, disabled people, indigenous people, black people, new immigrants- anyone who experiences marginalization- we have been through this before. Many times. So many lives have been unjustly lost and our rights have been trampled on over and over, and we shouldnt have to be dealing with any of that still in 2024. It feels insane that im even having to write this post right now.

But even with that crushing history, repeating itself over and over, we haven't been silenced. If anything we've gotten louder. We've been having mainstream conversations about oppression and liberation in the past few years that were completely undiscussed when I was a kid. The vocal support for trans people alone, even with the rise of transphobia, is unprecedented.

None of this is meant to tell you that it's alright, or that it's not that bad, because it is that bad. But what I'm telling you is that its been this bad before, only this time we're louder than we ever have been before and we'll be louder still next time. There are more of us than there ever have been before, and if they couldn't take us all out when there were fewer of us they wont manage it this time.

There were drag shows happening in gay bars when it was still illegal to be gay at all. There were Natives preserving language and knowledge out of residential schools, and black people inventing whole new types of art and resistance while they were still being actively enslaved, and those are just a few examples. The point is that we dont stop, we never have. We will keep making art, finding love, and joy, being fucking loud and fighting for each other.

It's ok to hurt, to be angry and scared. Let yourself feel all of those things because its the only rational response to this.

But don't let it shut you down. Your history is one of resilience, survival, and compassion. We're so much more than the oppression we face and we always have been.

Reach out to the people you love and tell them you fucking love them. Make plans to see them. Gather with your community and organize to support each other, find ways to protect each other, and above all else don't stop looking for joy. Don't stop making art. Don't stop showing compassion.

Solidarity is the most important thing we have right now, so don't give up on it.

I don't know how to close this message really, but i want to repeat I'm not telling you to have hope, I'm not telling you it's not so bad. What I am telling you is that you're stronger than you think. You come from strength, you come from people who faced odd that seemed insurmountable so that you could be here today.

If they couldn't take us out before they wont succeed now. We're only going to get louder, angrier and stronger. And when the tide swings back in the other direction, like it always has in the past, they better be fucking grateful that most of us will be fighting for equality instead of revenge.

[safety-pin-punk]

hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward

i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to

as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That

no need for a response but it would be nice

When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature

Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.

If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)

You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.

Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.

[annoyingkenku]

So, you know how we can become insanely strong with training and exercise? Sometimes with our muscles getting so big and dense that they tear through our skin(it's a biggggg ouchie and hard to deal with) imagine being on a station and a four armed extremely muscled alien walks into one of us ripped humans exercising easily with weights their species biggest members would struggle with.

A: *walks into the gym hearing a weight trainer groan under the strain of almost every single weight the gym has piled on top of it, fully expecting to see one of his species under it*

A:*sees a human?!? * w-what... Stars..... WAIT HOW?!

H: oh! Hi A how ya doing? *legs shaking under the weights trying to crush them into the floor and ignoring the adjustable grav sensors screaming with danger errors*

A: I am okay H... But I need to know what unholy stimulant combination you took that convinced you to try doing this.

H: what? What you mean stimulants *mid squat* I'm working out and this was the only thing that actually gave me a challenge.

A: A CHALLENGE?! H! The strongest of my species wouldn't be able to lift what you are lifting without ingesting enough stimulants to kill 8 derups!

H: yea a challenge, the grav sensors won't let me turn them up to earth gravity and the weights here are a hell of a lot lighter than at home. Honestly most of the challenge was disabling the error system so I can turn the grav sensors as high as they will go.

A: *does a high pitched squeak that he wasn't sure his species could even do* ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵃᵗ, H I am really concerned right now. Your home gravity is higher than the grav sensors max output.... Wait fuck you DISABLED the safety mechanisms too... How did your people get off world with the gravity like that, how are you managing to lift all that..... HOW?!

H: uhhhhhh dude... You all right? And in order of your questions, we strapped ourselves to chemically propelled rockets at first wearing what amounted to bags of our atmo so we could breathe, that has been sorted out a longgggg time ago now and I'm lifting all of this for a few reasons, 1 I need to work out to stay in shape, 2 our bodies evolved under high grav pressure so we are really strong even when not training as our bones, muscles and tendons are very dense and efficient so we can move around earth grav with as little energy expenditure as possible. And as for your third question *stands up grunting with the effort and racks the weights* SPITE!

A: spite? What is that?

H: basically weaponised anger. Out of spite for being really light and that terask looking fucker in cantina 4 saying I won't be able to beat him in a fight. I am GOING to beat him.

A: ..... I really don't understand you humans

H: that's fine we don't really understand you lot either... Anyway wanna go freak the others out with our tolerance for spice?

A: yes that sounds fun but please don't make me eat your horror story of concentrated poison again.... Wait you do know spice is considered a poison by the rest of the galaxy right?

H: .... Huh.... That does explain things....

A: what?

H: never mind come on let's get going *switches off the grav sensors and throws the weights back into their racks perfectly*

A:*stunned and respectful*

[meidui]

the way tony is so ruthless when he's fighting steve in siberia but then steve actually goes down and tony tells him to stay down but when has steve ever stayed down and this time tony just stands there watching him get back up and we don't get to see tony's face because the iron man helmet is on.... he was probably feeling the most convoluted compound of hurt and hatred and anger and admiration and oh my god i'm going to chew through his titanium gold alloy

i give this movie so much shit but the choice of showing robert's face versus only showing the exterior of the iron man armour in the sibera fight scene is so good because when we see his face either exposed or with the hud (did you know) (do you even remember them) (i don't care, he killed my mom) (so was i) (that shield doesn't belong to you, you don't deserve it, my father made that shield), he's being very human and sympathetic, and to me it kind of shows how steve is also seeing *tony* and we're reminded that tony is steve's friend and a protagonist as well, but when his face is hidden (for example when he blows off bucky's arm and during the whole sequence between "so was i" and steve finally disabling the suit) it's like he's being poised as the villain in the scene but then the helmet comes off in the end and tony's all battered and broken under there too just like steve is and aahhhhhh

what would it actually take for them to break up forever?? i think NOTHING because tony tried to kill james bucky fucking barnes and steve not only never faulted him for it, he sat down and wrote him a letter where his first words were "i'm glad you're back at the compound, i don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself" and the last words were "if you need me, i'll be there"???? and tony's bruise hasn't even healed yet when ross calls about the raft prison break and he doesn't think twice about covering steve's ass????? WHAT THE FUC K IS WRONG WITH THEM

[drunkenskunk]

Four Hours

Hour 1:

Shit was fucked, and everyone knew it.

Alarm klaxons loudly blared from every single loudspeaker in every single corridor... but Scarlet could barely hear it over the rest of the chaos. Panicked shouts and desperately barked orders, as well as the cracks and booms of distant gunfire and explosions, echoed through the station. She tried to block out the noise, focusing only on her task: get all this ammo to a cut off militia unit on the other side of the hab ring before they were overrun.

It all started when a passing blinkvoid disabled the local Omninet, effectively cutting off Hell's Gate from most external communication. And then, the very instant they were isolated from everyone else in the system, the station went into red alert: an unidentified hostile warship had appeared out of nowhere, and started immediately launching boarding torpedoes. It was a perfectly timed attack that caught everyone in the station with their pants down, and it was only through sheer luck – and a few spare coldcores acting as decoys in an empty hangar – that the Strategic Response Team managed to even get inside their mechs in the first place, much less push back the initial assault.

Once the first fight was over and they got a single moment to catch their breath, that's when the team found out exactly how fucked up the shit was. And the answer: comprehensively. Because it wasn't just any warship attacking them. It was The Tachyon: the ship from a (possible?) nightmare future that had contained the cascading NHP god of the local apocalypse cult. Scarlet was sure she and the rest of the team had seen that stupid ship explode in orbit of Chameleon months ago when all this madness started, but...

Then again, Andros Capella died on that fucking ship, and he came back because that future NHP could apparently just DO that, just like it brought back Ignatius Aurum after that asshole got murked, and time travel was also involved somehow, so who the fuck knows anymore! All this shit was melting Scarlet's brain, and it was pissing her off.

What she did know was that the Hell Hounds – having seemingly been absorbed by The Faith of The One – were now intent on boarding the station, and the militia was offering a well practiced rebuttal: “Hippity-Hoppity, Get Off My Property.” Now, that? That, she could wrap her head around.

So that's why Scarlet – still wearing her interface jacksuit underneath a set of heavy combat armor, loaded down with guns and ammo for resupply, and still juiced on the combat stims in her system from the fight less than half an hour earlier – was running at full speed towards the sounds of gunfire and explosions off in the distance.

“Heads up grunts! I'm inbound on your position with resupply!” Scarlet said into her helmet comm, with no idea if anyone from the militia was even still alive and on the frequency to receive her. Up ahead, the sounds of violence seemed to be petering out, and that was either a good sign, or exceptionally bad. She tried her damnedest to pour on more speed (which wasn't easy considering how heavy all this fucking ammo was) and every heavy footfall shook the deck plating under her and sent a violent shock up her spine.

She rounded a corner and the makeshift command post and barricades beyond the bulkheads finally come into view, and she was momentarily gripped with panic at the number of bodies and spent shell casings she saw littering the floor. Was she already too late? But then the moment passed and she let out a sigh of relief: it looked like nearly everyone here was still alive, just hunkering down behind cover. She'd worked with Zinfandel the last few months to make sure the militia had prepared for this exact scenario with dozens of “all hands, repel boarders” drills, and it was clearly paying off.

“Was that the last of them?” Scarlet heard someone ask from somewhere up ahead. A pair of milita troopers were taking cover behind a flash-printed chest high wall, and one of them quickly peeked over the edge before ducking back down again.

“I dunno,” he said. “Probably not for long. I don't think we can hold against another assault like that...”

“Good news, fellas!” Scarlet yelled, grabbing the attention of everyone still alive. “I got beans, bullets, and bandaids! Load up!” She unbuckled the ratchet across her chest, undoing the makeshift harness made out of tie-down straps holding the giant metal crate to her back. The 4-foot cube loaded to the brim with ammunition, weapons, grenades, and directional mines dropped down unceremoniously with a colossal thud.

“Scarlet? Issat you?” one of the militia she recognized – a kid by the name of Flavor Profile – asked from where he was taking cover behind a nearby pillar. He peered out from beneath his helmet and adjusted the grip on his shotgun. “Christ the Buddha, you're a godsend! I think I'm down to my last two shells.”

“Where in the hells did y'even get all this?” another one of the militia, Spud Wrench, asked while she peered into the giant box of munitions. “We had to beg, borrow, and steal just to set up this chokepoint!”

“Called in a favor,” Scarlet said with a shrug. “Couple of smugglers I know, offered to 'share' some of their inventory. Now, I'd ask for a status update, but shit's kinda obvious,” Scarlet unslung the bullpup carbine off her shoulder and into her hands. “Anyone too wounded to fight, there's a med station that got set up, 'bout two sectors spinward. Everyone else, pull back, regroup, and reload. When the next wave hits, I'll hold them here and buy you some time.”

“What, by yourself?” Flavor asked incredulously. Before he could get an answer, however:

“CONTACT!” came a yell from up ahead, followed swiftly by the bark of gunfire. Without another word, Scarlet was in motion, leaping over the barricade. Violence was no longer imminent, it was here, and it was as if a switch in her head flipped. A sharp electric tingle buzzed in the back of her brain, like the rush of dopamine she always got from fighting in Big Red.

Several armored figures hove into view, their haphazard combat gear painted in faded Hell Hound colors unevenly obscured by iconography of The Faith. The heads-up display on her helmet lit them up like beacons, and with efficient, almost mechanical precision: POP! POP! POP! Scarlet squeezed off three bursts and dropped them before any of them could even get a shot off. She didn't bother to stop, intent on countering the charge of these zealots with one of her own.

Just as she got to the bend in the corridor, she heard the unmistakable sound of a small revving engine. She skidded to a halt just as an arm swinging a rusty chainsaw blade appeared, passing through the spot she would've been. A wild-eyed cultist appeared, carried by his own momentum, and swung the blade again. Scarlet was so high on stims it was like she was watching him moving in slow motion, and it was clear he was aiming to chop her head off. She ducked, and the chainsaw missed her helmet by inches. She let go of the carbine's foregrip, shoved the barrel up under his chin, and pulled the trigger.

There was no time to stop. Scarlet grabbed the dead man by his chestplate, and held the lump of meat ahead of her as she pressed forward, rounding the corner. Seconds later, she heard the bark of automatic fire, followed swiftly by the sound of several wet impacts against the dead man's back. Scarlet hunkered down behind her makeshift cover, tucked the carbine in close, and continued forward, bullets either ricocheting off the corridor all around her or hitting the dead man.

As soon as she felt she was close enough, she shoved up against the body she was carrying with all her might, and threw it forward; it crashed into one of the cultists, sending them tumbling. In one fluid motion, she tossed the carbine into her left hand, reached down for the pistol on her hip with her now free right, and leveled the carbine at one of the cultists trying to duck behind cover. She fired off a quick burst, quickly aimed her pistol at another, and pulled the trigger.

For a split second, it felt like she was back in her mech; she'd been making a habit lately of firing the Leviathan mounted on Big Red's shoulder in one direction to swiss-cheese an opponent, while shooting the assault rifle in another direction at a completely different target.

“So,” Scarlet stood over the man trying to pick himself up off the floor, and very deliberately leveled her carbine at his face. “You gonna come quietly, or am I gonna have to clean you off my boots?”

“My death won't matter,” the cultist said, while trying to be subtle about reaching for his discarded weapon and failing miserably. “Feather will burn this corrupt and cruel universe to cinders and start anew. Let the final verse be written, so the page m-AUGH!” He yelped as Scarlet stomped on his hand before he could reach the rifle.

“You talk too much,” was all she said before smacking him in the head with the butt of her carbine. Scarlet quickly scanned the corridor for more targets, but it seemed the current assault was over, if only for a moment. She flipped the unconscious man onto his front, reached into one her pouches for some zip ties, and began binding his hands; it was a longshot, but maybe Shelly and Zinfandel could get some decent intel out of a prisoner who didn't know when to shut the fuck up.

When he woke up, that is.

- - -

Hour 2:

Things were still bad, but... far as Scarlet was concerned, they could be worse.

The militia platoon defending this particular section of the station had done wonders with all those supplies. On top of refortifying their position, nearly every maintenance corridor surrounding them had been booby trapped. A few enterprising cultists had already tried to flank their position by cubbying, and ended up getting turned into greasy smears. That dissuaded the rest, funneling the cultists into a heavily defended killbox, and right into all of their bullets. Over and over and over again.

Scarlet had no fucking idea how there were so many of these lunatic apocalypse cultists, or where they were even all coming from, since there seemed to be no end to them in sight. They weren't going to get anywhere if they kept on the defensive and just waited to be overrun; no, they had to push forward, and find some way to kick these idiots off personally.

So, Scarlet did the most sensible thing she could think of: she asked for volunteers, and put together a strike team. With any luck, that would give the rest who'd opted to stay behind time to further dig in, and maybe reestablish communication with the rest of the station. There were a total of five of them in this op, with Scarlet taking point, and things started off well. Enemy resistance had started to peter out the further they got from the militia checkpoint... so maybe the Hell Hounds had finally run out of reinforcements?

And then it all went to shit. Again.

She wasn't sure who fired first, but as soon as they reached the atrium where the boarding torpedo had landed, the bullets started flying. Scarlet and the rest knew the terrain better, but there were far more of the cultists, and they just kept coming, heedless of their own safety. It was like a fucking clown car! How could so many fit in that one fucking torpedo?!

An extremely loud shriek drowned out everything else, muffling the explosions and gunfire all around, and it made Scarlet's blood run cold. It was a sound that made her feel like every single nerve ending around every port and connection that would normally have plugged her into her mech had suddenly pulled taut: the whine of a set of miniaturized IPS-N ramjet engines spooling up.

The corridors in this section of the station were too narrow and had ceilings too low for most mechs, which is why Scarlet had felt confident to be boots on the ground instead of in a cockpit for this op... but most mechs wasn't all mechs, and they had now run into the worst case scenario.

“FALL BACK!” Scarlet yelled, already on the move and trying her best to disguise the rising panic in her voice. “NOW! WE'VE GOTTA GO NOW!”

A blur of burnt red and dull gold metal emerged from the darkened torpedo entrance in a motion almost too fast to see. It was so fast, in fact, that two of the cultists weren't able to get out of the way in time, and the half sized mech plowed straight through them as if they weren't there, aerosolizing them in an instant. The unmistakable silhouette of an IPS-N Caliban emerged through the rapidly expanding clouds of blood that had been it's allies a second before.

Scarlet and the others were already running, and she just hoped they would all be fast enough to escape, but what the fuck could they even do? This is the exact situation the Caliban is designed for! If she could get to Big Red it might level things out, but... even if her mech wasn't on the other side of the station, that big fucker couldn't fit in these corridors!

“Machete!” Scarlet yelled at one of the squad as they all rounded a corner. “Get that bulkhead sealed!” She pulled a grenade off her kit, and tossed it like a baseball straight at the charging mech which seemed to fill the entire corridor. The grenade exploded with a pop, and a cloud of dirty black smoke appeared at the mech's head-height for a fraction of a second.

The Caliban didn't even notice. And then, the mech raised its left arm, a pair of shotgun barrels glinting in the fluorescent light.

“FUCK!” She dove for cover behind the bend just as she heard a titanic boom, like an angry god slamming a car door. All the color was washed out by the intensity of the muzzle flash. An immense cloud of flechette darts, ball bearings, and superheated magnesium strips filled the corridor they had just barely managed to escape. The metal walls, floor, and ceiling all got torn up or melted, and nearly every electronic panel and light fixture simultaneously exploded.

“BULKHEAD!” Scarlet yelled again through the tinnitus. She fought the urge to keep running as she watched Machete reach for the lever to activate the emergency seal. All the stims in her system made every motion feel painfully, agonizingly slow, until they finally grabbed the lever and yanked it down.

The Caliban appeared around the corner, mere feet away. Even through the tinnitus, she could hear that distinctive, terrifying whine of the ramjets spooling up again. Scarlet realized in that moment that there was no way out... so if this is how it was gonna be, she was going out fighting, even if she knew it was pointless. She raised her carbine, thumbed the safety to full auto, and just unloaded. A second passed, and half a dozen bullets impacted against the Caliban's armored chassis amid a hail of sparks, every shot bouncing off harmlessly.

Just before the mech started to move, the heavy metal bulkhead slammed down hard, sealing the corridor and trapping the mech on the other side of several inches of heavily reinforced metal. Steam and smoke spilled out of the barrel of her carbine, and Scarlet let out the breath she was holding...

There was a loud ringing BANG against the bulkhead. And then another. And then another. It was the sound of heavy metal fists punching the solid slab of metal separating the Caliban from its prey...

“That's not gonna hold it,” Scarlet said through ragged breaths, slowly backing away, and motioning for the others to do the same. “We've gotta get out of here... find some way to stop it.”

How any of them were going to do that, Scarlet honestly had no fucking idea...

- - -

Hour 3:

Scarlet leaned against a bulkhead back at the checkpoint. She was starting to feel sluggish, and checked the auto-injector mounted on her armor: one stim left, and all the rest were empty. Fuck. She hit the magazine catch on her carbine, and checked her remaining ammo: 10 shots left. Fuck.

“How we doin'?” Scarlet asked, already knowing the answer.

“I mean, we're not dead?” Machete shrugged, ignoring the blood trickling down her temple.

“What about comms? We still cut off?” Scarlet peered around her cover. Nobody coming yet. That was good, at least.

“Yeah, for the most part...” Machete nodded. “Short range works, but we can't reach anybody further out than, like... 4 sectors? I think? I dunno if they've got a jammer, or there's some kinda paracausal shit goin' on, or what. We've got some runners, but... takes way too much time.”

“What about that Caliban? Anybody have eyes on it?”

“We got Spud working with a couple other sigdivers, trying to keep it busy. Opening and closing bulkheads to direct it away from us, keep it going' in circles, tryin' to get it lost... but, I mean... I guess we're lucky those cult fuckers seem to be just as scared of it as we are, y'know?”

Scarlet furrowed her brow inside her helmet, trying to weigh her options. They weren't going to get far if they couldn't deal with that damn mech. If Agarin was here in his Caliban, That Which Poets and Artists have Eternally Sought: The Power to Move, this wouldn't be a problem. Not only would he would wipe the floor with that amateur pilot, he'd personally turn every one of these cultists into chunky salsa without breaking a sweat. But... hell, even if comms weren't down right now, the rest of the SRT was in the same boat as her: dealing with too many crises all over the besieged station, all at once, and with not enough time to fix everything...

And then, an idea crossed her mind.

“Hang on... do we have any thermite charges left?” Scarlet asked. Machete did a double take, staring at her as Scarlet left cover to head deeper into the checkpoint.

“We have thermite?” she shook it off. “Wait, where are you goin'?”

“Got an idea. Gonna find Spud, see if we can funnel that Caliban closer to the station skin...”

- - -

Hour 4:

This was either a brilliant idea, or it was the single dumbest thing Scarlet had ever come up with.

“Scarlet, you set up yet?” a crackling voice said through her helmet comm. Scarlet surveyed the corridor one last time before replying. Hopefully the thermite charges were disguised well enough that whoever was piloting that monster wouldn't notice...

“As I'll ever be, Spud,” Scarlet adjusted her grip on the SMAW resting on her shoulder. “That Caliban getting close?”

“He's taking the bait,” Spud replied, amid a hail of static. “Be ready, he'll be on you any second. I'll seal him in as soon as you give the word.”

She could hear heavy footfalls, thudding in the distance and getting closer.

Well. It's now or never. She raised up the SMAW, aiming it at the far end of the corridor, finger resting just above the trigger...

The Caliban rounded a corner, filling the hallway with its (relatively) immense bulk, and it came to a stop as soon as it noticed Scarlet. The hallway behind the mech was lit up by bright blue flame, as the shrieking whine of the ramjets spooling up began once more.

“Backblast clear, I guess...” she muttered, squeezing the trigger. The end of the tube exploded in flame and smoke, and even inside the armor she could feel the concussive force of the rocket engine buffeting her. It screamed down the hallway for half a second, directly at the mech, before it impacted dead center with its chestplate. The deck beneath her feet shook as the end of the hallway was consumed in a fireball, briefly enveloping and obscuring the Caliban.

She knew that wouldn't stop it, but it wasn't supposed to. Scarlet tossed the empty SMAW aside as quick as she could, reached over for the already primed bulkhead controls on the wall next to her with her left hand, and pulled the detonator off with her right. The fire and smoke at the end of the hall was violently pushed away as the Caliban charged down the corridor, ramjet engines screaming; Scarlet slammed down the lever as soon as she saw it emerge, and hoped against hope that she was fast enough...

THUD. The bulkhead slammed shut, and she could just barely hear the Caliban screech to a halt on the other side.

“Now!” Scarlet said into her comm. “Seal it now!” Without waiting for a response, she hit the button on the detonator. The corridor shook once again, and there were a series of muffled thuds from the other side of the bulkhead as the carefully placed thermite charges detonated... and then, every sound beyond the sealed metal came to a swift stop.

After all, sound can't propagate in a vacuum.

“Holy shit... I, uh... I think you got him!” Spud's voice crackled, the channel still flush with static. “Let me see if I can link into one of the external cameras... oh yeah! Yeah, you spaced the fucker!”

Scarlet sighed heavily, and stood there for a minute or two. A part of her wanted to let the tension that had kept her in a vice grip evaporate, but... it didn't. It couldn't. She couldn't let it. The Gate was still in danger. Her friends were still in danger. Her home was still in danger. There was no time to rest. There was no time to stop.

Not yet.

[raddagher]

Arcane is over (😭) and I have some criticisms so here are my lists of who Won and who Lost in no particular order

LOST SEASON 2

1. Isha

Literally wasn't even mentioned after she died, like wtf was that

We couldn't have a memorial or anything? Come on

Her sacrifice was ultimately meaningless because Warwick got brought back anyway

2. Sevika

Didn't get a single line through all of Act 3

Where is my wife

At least she didn't die?

3. The entire Undercity, to be honest

Where did the independence thread go

Giving Sevika a council seat wasn't enough

I don't like that so many of them had to fight in Enforcer uniforms, that felt wrong

That was the MAIN CONFLICT for most of the show. It felt so weird to gloss over it at the end

4. Vander/Warwick

Gonna be real I wasn't super crazy about most of his presence here, I don't feel like it actually contributed much to anyone's development, except MAYBE Viktor's

We would not have lost anything if they didn't have the flashback scene with their mom

Super didn't like Jinx's ending as it pertained to him

5. Jinx

Hey I super don't like that every character who had a moment of suicide ideation or attempt ended up dead or "dead"

I don't like the way she "died" it didn't feel earned

I don't feel like the ending she got aligned well with her character at all. She spiraled and then just. stayed at the bottom of the spiral :(

They put a TON of family stuff in act 1 and 2 that didn't get resolution in 3

I think they kinda did my girl dirty I'm sorry

6. Loris

Clearly would have had more of a role if they didn't have to cut him for time

NEITHER WON NOR LOST SEASON 2

1. Vi

I want to say she won because she got to bang her cop girlfriend in a prison cell and the sex scene was good as hell but

She also was just taking massive L's the whole time

Like it never felt like she ever had any real wins other than that and that bummed me out

Didn't get enough time to be a dumbfuck with Jayce :(

Caitlyn

Didn't get enough proper resolution for her wonderful fascist arc

She felt a little dropped in Act 3 as well

Glad she got that Vussy tho, good for her

And I did like the vs Ambessa fight, that was also good

I honestly feel like Viktor and Jayce's romance was written better than her and Vi's, and as a gay woman who is constantly watching mlm relationships get so much more attention, it rubs me the wrong way

WON SEASON 2

1. Viktor (OBVIOUSLY)

The fucked up robot army. The religious imagery. The body horror. His robot alien design is scary as fuck. Absolutely incredible work

Got to be taller and stronger than Jayce hooray

They're canon. That was the gayest shit I've ever seen in my life

I do wish they had spent more time overall fleshing out more of the disability commentary, I feel like it was a little lacking in the end

Nevertheless BEAUTIFUL and HORRIFYING and TRAGIC

2. Jayce

See above

Yeah he also got to be a big hero and got to be resolved really well

Did NOT see his death coming that was crazy

They Magnus 200'd his ass, damn

He chose Viktor over everything I'm emo

They made a heart when they touched their foreheads together fuck OFF

3. Heimerdinger

Literally just living his best life

Love that he didn't tell Ekko he can't die, he just let the poor boy think he got fuckin atomized, king shit, that's hilarious

I would have stayed in that universe too tbh

4. Ambessa

The single tear over Kino. Her love for her children at direct odds with her need for control. Her arc was explored so well

Died a warrior's death at the hands of her brilliant daughter, I know that's how she would have wanted to go

Also was very hot in every scene. Good for her (and good for me)

She just got a lot of love from the writers and I'm very happy to see that effort put into an older Black woman character

5. Mel

Speaking of gorgeous Black women

I was so worried she was going to get dropped but her ending was SO good

Her glow up with the gold is fantastic, she looks amazing in the white hood

Love that they gave her abilities that would inherently change her priorities AND gave her the throne of Noxus, I have high hopes that she'll be prominent in another show in the future

They made her such a powerful badass but still let her be merciful and forgiving. Absolutely amazing. She is the wolf

6. Ekko (?)

On the fence about him

LOVED the au scene. Perfect

And I loved that our boy savior got to be the one that set off the bomb that stopped Viktor

But he was kind of dropped otherwise? Like what happened with his tree?

Generally wish he had more development and screentime in this season

But I'm happy he was so pivotal to the climax

AND I'm happy he got to kiss Powder. He and Jinx would never have worked out

7. Maddie

Haha I never liked you. Get fucked you horrible little bootlicker. Typical cop

8. Singed

How come YOU get everything you want?

Fuck you.

Basically all my criticisms boil down to it feeling rushed overall. It's clear that they intended to have more time, and that breaks my heart. We all know Netflix's reputation for cancelling stuff out of the blue, and I've heard that maybe certain parties were unhappy with the depictions of gay romance and realistic social revolution. Whatever the reasons, I wish they had a third season, because I think they could have solved every problem I have with it. Regardless, it's an incredible work of art and very likely one of if not THE best animated series ever made.

[meta-squash]

Torchwood Fic Recs

Here's a bunch of fic recommendations for excellent Torchwood fics that I've had bookmarked. Many of these are from the old days of Torchwood fandom and never got transferred to ao3, so there are quite a few livejournal links and a few wayback machine links. Anything that I had bookmarked on lj that got transferred to ao3, I'll link the ao3. I may put my own notes/descriptions in brackets after the fic summary.

Proof Of Your Existence by sarcasticchick - Can you offer me proof of your existence? How can you? When neither modern science nor philosophy can explain what life is. [In which Ianto is more than what he seems.]

What Lies Within by xtricks - Ianto becomes contaminated with an alien. Jack will do whatever he can to hold onto him, even as he changes. [Link goes to the last chapter, which has all the others linked. TW: tentacle sex, which is partly metaphorical and partly literal.]

Conversational Japanese, Plus Frogs by james - Tosh and Ianto have been taken prisoner. They cope.

PTSD: Post Torchwood Stress Disorder by waldo - It's been two and a half years since Canary Wharf. It's been a year since Lisa. And Jack is just now realizing what the real toll has all been on Ianto and the other survivors of Torchwood One. Now he needs to fix a big thing done badly before anyone else dies.

Notebird by cyus - A note points to nowhere and a bird comes from nowhere, and Torchwood, in the wake of their teammates’ deaths, finds that some experiences shatter things into pieces too small to be fit back together.

Second Look by remindmeofthe- Sometimes, you get a chance to see the past through a different pair of eyes: your own.

The Cartography Of Feeling by sholio - "We're sodding gladiators," Owen said. "Fuck this entire day and Jack Harkness too." (Or: Owen and Ianto are abducted by aliens and forced to arena-fight. But the worst part might be the control device that connects them in an emotion and pain-sharing bond.)

Forget, Survive, Repeat by d8rkmessngr - He came to Torchwood, to Jack, for Lisa. But now she's gone and Ianto isn't sure what there is he has left. Post "Cyberwoman".

I Had No Idea I Had Been Travelling by kalichan & rm - It's not how you die; it's how you live, especially when your life is built of stories. And in the end, all lives are. [This fic is incredibly long, but it is absolutely beautiful, and most of the segments can be read individually. I'm of the opinion that everyone should read this fic. It's the Torchwood fic I continued to think about for years even when I was focusing on other fandoms.]

Hourglass by lazuli - Death is not the only form of loss. Torchwood grieves the loss of Owen and Tosh, and something strange is wrong with Jack. [Link goes to wayback machine, but all chapter links work.]

The Cricket And The Bird by solsticezero - On the nature of immortality and the longevity of birds.

Like The Wind by clarrisani- Sometimes all you can do is run. [Mild Owen/Ianto, leaning closer to friendship.]

More Richer Than My Tongue by sanginmychains - Ianto needs to get some space after the events of Cyberwoman. Jack comes along. They get rained on, and discuss their relationship.

Got That Friday Feeling Again by NancyBrown - HELP HELP HELP HELP I AM TRAPPED IN A TIME BUBBLE The magic marker all over the nice chintz wallpaper bled and smeared as Owen wrote in increasingly desperate lettering across the walls. Ls and Ps dragged down, wiggly at the end or drawn out in slashed strokes.

I Am Not My Own by methylethyl - "Torchwood's disability pay is about this big--" Ianto held up his thumb and index finger, about two centimeters apart. "--and comes out of a gun at a thousand meters per second."

Disinterred by seize - "What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets." Ianto makes a discovery, and learns there are things he probably doesn't want to know. He asks anyway. [TW: torture.]

Frames Of Reference by echo - There's a difference between 'mostly alive' and 'mostly dead'. Sometime it's just hard to remember which one is which, especially when you get right down to the details.

Do Not Go Gentle by mcparrot - Reeling from the deaths of Owen and Tosh, Gwen and Ianto watch helplessly as Jack acts erratically. They assume it's just his way of mourning - until he disappears.

Tea And Sympathy by osprey_archer - Soon after Jack's disappearance, Owen takes sick. Ianto goes to check on him. [Some wonderfully unhinged Owen/Ianto fic]

Before You Know It by yuma - In all honesty, he should have been expecting it. He was there when boys, not yet men, suffered what was first called shell-shock, then combat fatigue, to the neatly packaged politically correct acronym.

Sweet, Delicious Despair by marchling - A group of strange suicides comes Torchwood's way when the police can't figure out why happy people with everything to live for are suddenly taking their own lives for seemingly no reason. The team is on the case, but there are no leads… Until one of their own is threatened. [TW: Suicide]

The Subject Of Mourning by jesuisgourde - Gwen had said Those poor girls. But both were dead, victims of Torchwood, of circumstance, of the most destructive kind of loyalty and love. Owen could only think Poor Ianto. The dead were dead. The living had to keep living with the pain. Owen and Ianto in the immediate aftermath of Cyberwoman.

In Your Image by blackbird_song - Jack and Ianto sitting in a tree: Torchwood-style.

Object Permanence by solsticezero - After the events of Exit Wounds, Ianto is left with lingering anxieties about the safety of the people he loves.

[a brief interlude for paperclipbitch fics. she's been my favourite torchwood writer since the early days. please read all of her stuff.]

If You Pass Go, Do Not Collect £200 by paperclipbitch - Ianto is sent to rescue Owen from 19th Century London, but he’s less than impressed by what Owen has been doing to survive.

Untitled Series 2 AU by paperclipbitch - “Come on,” Ianto sighs, and Owen falls into his side like he's just been waiting for the invitation. [Owen/Ianto]

Clinging To The Wreckage Until I Got The Message by paperclipbitch - “You need something other than this in your life, Owen,” Ianto murmurs. [Owen/Ianto]

People That I Wasn't by paperclipbitch - Jack and Ianto have to deal with death in all sorts of ways.

Hamartia by paperclipbitch - “Don’t you start,” Owen snaps, turning on him. Ianto doesn’t even bother to look up from where he’s inspecting his fingernails. “Going to hit me again?” he asks lightly. [Owen/Ianto]

It Will Bleed You Dry by paperclipbitch - Europe is dying. But Jack refuses to let his team go.

Like There's A Part Of Me That I Want To Get Back Again by paperclipbitch - Ianto Jones, in his crisp pinstripe suit, the remains of a black eye still mildew-green on his face, frowns a little at Owen Harper and says: “Have we met before?” [Owen/Ianto]

No Sense Of Direction by paperclipbitch - After Gwen finally leaves Owen, Ianto is left to try and pick up the pieces. [Owen/Ianto. Link goes to the last chapter of the series, which has links to the previous chapters]

Beautiful Lies by remuslives23 - "Truth is beautiful, without a doubt; but so are lies." Ianto and Jack after the events of the Lost Souls radio play.

Shooting The Messenger by salmon-pink - Jack gives the orders, Ianto obeys, and Owen thinks that maybe everyone has lost their minds, himself included. [Owen/Ianto PWP]

All The Stars In The Sky by lasersforeyes - Sometime after the end of Jack's world, he meets meets someone familiar in an unfamiliar place, and realizes that somehow, things just keep going.

The Dominant Line Between Life And Death by ladyflowdi - In the space of a heartbeat, between the rhythmic pulse of life itself, Ianto’s world is split in two. There is only the Before and the After, the Once Was and Is Now, as if someone has cut him right down the middle, a perfect sagittal seam that has equal parts guts, eyes, and heart. He is coexisting with himself, and the other Ianto won’t stop screaming.

Passing Currents by feathereddino - Gwen assists with clean-up after a case is finished. [This fic is pretty Gwen-bashy/old school fic Gwen characterisation, but the rest of the concept and other characterisations are so fun and spot on that I want to rec it.]

No Word For Yes by copperbadge - Someday he will have a Jack-to-English dictionary. Though it will contain more than just the words, he supposes. And be unsuitable for children.

Life Lived Without Thinking by pocketmouse - While exploring the lower levels, Ianto steps through a doorway, and disappears into blackness. [Owen/Ianto, ish]

Roses In December by remuslives23 - Memories of better times assailed him, snippets of his life ticking over in his mind like flashes of scenes from a film, faster and faster until he couldn't breathe then the floodgates flew open, and he couldn't stop the crippling pain from bending him in two.

Management Of Dead Bodies In Disaster Situations: A Field Manual by heddychaa - Darragh Edmonds is a so-called "disaster specialist". Called to the site of tsunamis, earth quakes, floods, terrorist attacks, he takes up the grim task of putting order to human remains, and he does it well. Cleaning up after a biological attack on Thames House should make for a comparatively easy day for Darragh: after all, the bodies of Thames House have even been so considerate as to pile themselves right at the front door for him. That is, until he's sworn to secrecy and sent, alone, to collect two bodies from the building's eerie top floor.

Confluence by cmdr_spadge - Once Lisa is dead, it's Owen who decides what to do with Ianto.

Interstitial by sholio - They jostled around each other for a while, bouncing off each other's sharp and broken edges—and then they started to fit, like puzzle pieces that couldn't click together until they found just the right angle. [Owen/Ianto]

do not go gentle by someawkwardprose - His hands were shaking. Lisa was dead. They’d killed her, the whole bloody team, and he hated them. Lisa was dead, and he wasn’t.

Simile by echo - After being trapped, beaten, terrified, and deprived of sleep, Ianto is desperate to get away from the activity surrounding the village. Unfortunately, with a concussion and any number of unknown injuries, that's not really a good idea.

Separated by AuthorInDistress - When the Toclafane attack during the 'Year That Never Was', Owen and Ianto survive that hell together.

C12H22O11 by Jane St Claire - Sometimes things turn up right in the Hub. It's a big time-saver. [A creature falls through the rift. It might be more than what it seems.]

Writing The Truth In Blue by pecos - The glimpse of a pink dress shirt in the rubbish skip was enough tweak Jack’s curiosity. What he eventually found led him to realize what he was about to lose forever.

I also have a number of old deleted classics saved, stuff by rcmclachlan (I just have From Which Come All Things, which is the important one imo), rexluscus, and lawford, and a few others, so if you're an old fan and want those, dm me!

[kaija-rayne-author]

Some thoughts on Dragon Age Veilguard a couple weeks after playing/reviewing it.

Obligatory disclaimer, feel free to skip to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Note: My reviews for DA and my blog posts about DAV in particular aren't edited. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

It's been 16 days since I finished DAV.

And sadly, my opinion still hasn't changed. Especially after learning about Joplin from my friend's artbook. (Joplin is the original concept and art concepts for the game. It had so much we were all really desperate to see. It was gorgeous. And they scrapped it.)

I don't know why they scrapped it, it was exactly what so many of us wanted.

Honestly? I don't care why. I'm sick of all the excuses people keep making for BioWare turning out such a shitty game.

Were there reasons and difficulties I don't know and will never know about? There usually are.

But those things are honestly irrelevant when it comes to producing a quality product.

I work my ever loving ass off to make sure my books are good. And I don't have a team to help me and a 250 million dollar budget. I do everything myself because I have to.

Indie studios turn out fantastic games with cool worlds, good fighting systems, and interesting monsters all the time. With some help and some budget, sure. But not likely on the scale of what they had for DAV.

I'm both a creator and an editor. When you're making a product for sale, it's incredibly foolish to change a series title too much from what worked before. Sure, fix problems, streamline stuff, but people generally don't play RPGs for anything past the worldbuilding, writing, story, and characters. There's action RPGs, sure. I'm playing one now and loving it (Greedfall).

It's a solid RPG that feels like an RPG. (DAV did not.) The fighting system works. The companions are actually useful. They kill bad guys all by themselves! It's quite refreshing tbh.

When you're creating something for fun, sure, do what the fuck ever you want as long as it isn't harmful to someone else. (Don’t put words in my mouth. By harmful, I mean specifically things like racism, sexism, ableism etc. Not whether someone dislikes the colour green and thinks the word 'triggered' means unhappy or uncomfortable. It doesn't. It's specifically a needed mental health term.)

When you're creating a product for sale, you make decisions. IE. I chose to write a reverse harem series. That's a choice influenced by the business reality that my queer books hardly sell at all.

I still love the characters and world I built, still love the plot etc. But it was still a decision on my part. Because my work of words is my only income. I'm disabled and recovering from a pulmonary embolism. My partner is recovering from a broken back and has at least one, possibly two more surgeries to go. We don't get very much help from anywhere. Money is so tight it squeaks. I'm hoping with the decision to write m/f reverse harem, my sales will improve (They already have with only two books out. Third before end of year.)

So. No. No more excuses for BioWare. They've always, from rumour, had a lot of control over the games they make, even if EA does pollute the studio by owning it.

Someone made the choices that resulted in such a shitty game. Someone approved the terrible (in some cases, racist, sexist, and ableist) writing. Someone thought the editing was just fine (it really really is not).

Someone (likely Epler given what he's said in interviews) decided that it was a good idea to Disney-fie the most recent addition to an adult, dark fantasy game that has historically delivered a lot of horror elements. While somehow condescending to kids at the same time.

Someone decided to remove so many of those dark fantasy elements. It's especially obvious in the not-fucking-darkspawn. They made them goofy, not scary and vaguely horror inspiring. But it's all throughout the game.

Someone made decisions. Those decisions made an awful game.

Someone decided tying your companions' skill points acquisition to their level of bond with you was a good idea. Maybe it looked good on paper. I don’t honestly care. It made it nigh impossible to get them high enough to be actually useful. Meaning your OP character always has aggro. Fine, I guess, if you're a tank player, but what about the rest of us?

Someone decided to remove blood splatter from a freaking BioWare game.

Someone decided to go with that wretched art style.

Someone decided nerfing the rogue class was a good idea. Why even have them? They're just light skirmishers, not rogues. Without, y'know, the rogue skills that make a rogue.

It was a decision, each and every time.

Someone decided everything about that game.

So miss me with the excuses.

I would like actual reasons, but I highly doubt we'll ever get them.

Someone made unwise and often foolish decisions during development of DAV. The results are clear.

Simply by the fact they aren't releasing sales numbers... that indicates it's probably not doing well. Larian basically called their earnings for BG3 out weekly.

It mostly just makes me sad now. DAV could've been fantastic. Because of decisions human beings in positions of power made, DAV, while having some good parts, just sucks.

[antispopausandstuff]

stans criticize antis for including the scene of Catra scarring Adora as a child in the cycle of abuse, going on about how she was just a kid, that a kid can't be abusive, etc., but here's the thing:

there's this kid i know and love. they're autistic, non-verbal // limited in speech, and are prone to emotional bursts. they always know more than people think, try to help you if you cry, and absolutely loves sharing food // treats with others and meeting new people.

but there are times i'm scared of them. hell, there's times i, admittedly, hate them.

i understand that they have little impulse control, that they're a child, a disabled one at that, and they don't understand the consequences of hurting someone or maybe even that they're hurting someone at all, but your "fight or flight", your anxiety, your fears, PTSD, etc. does not care who or what it is.

that and, honestly, i still resent my bullies. i know they were kids, too, but that doesn't take away from the pain and embarrassment i felt. for so long, i thought i was completely unlikable, and it was because of them. my ma tried to teach me the "ignore them", "kill them with kindness", "sympathy // empathy" lessons, but none of them worked.

bullying and abuse aren't that different, if they are at all. the victims always suffer, in one way or another, and bullying // abuse can lead to suicide, mental decline, physical decline, and overall ruin your entire fucking life for so long.

i understand that kids are little balls of energy and don't understand the consequences of their actions. my bullies likely thought what happened to me wasn't a big deal or was just a joke. maybe they didn't even have bad intentions in the first place. but that doesn't take away what i've gone through since then, because of them.

Catra was a child, yes, but so was Adora. why do you forget that? any child would be scared of someone, even their best friend in the whole world, if they just suddenly clawed them in the face just for asking "why did you do it?", any child. anyone, in fact.

there's exceptions, but generally speaking, we're afraid of what severely hurts us. Catra severely hurt Adora, just for asking a question that anyone else would've asked.

the cycle of abuse continued when Catra didn't care about Adora's health and safety, meanwhile Adora always cared.

now, after this, it's just speculation, but i had an interesting thought.

Catra punched Lonnie ( presumably, as there's no scar or implication that she clawed her, just that she hit her, and that typically means punching ), but clawed Adora. and hard enough to send her flying halfway across the room.

yeah, Catra was angry with Lonnie ( jealous ), but, ultimately, it's Adora who suffers the worst consequence. the writers obviously let Catra do what she likes, but i think this is just more evidence that she knew, even subconsciously, that Adora wouldn't fight back.

i originally thought that Catra only used her claws against Adora because of her hatred and knowing that Adora wouldn't do anything, but there's something else to consider.

she's clawed Octavia, disabling her, and almost did the same to Lonnie.

now, why would she do that to either of them, when neither have that much important to her, in comparison to Adora?

in the first scene, Catra did it just because she could. just because she thought Octavia was, more or less, ugly.

in the second scene, Catra did it because Lonnie pissed her off. but she's been pissed off before, many times, even to Lonnie, so why only try to claw her now?

to me, it reads as her using her claws on a person ( directly or indirectly ) when she knows the other is defenseless, in some way or form, or as a form of punishment. not necessarily because they have importance to her.

Adora just happened to be the one she wanted to punish the most.

[silverscar0712]

Regarding the mass reblog of 2024 election-related posts.

I'm a disabled, unemployed trans man living in a blue state right now, so I've understandably got a lot of anxiety surrounding the recent election results.

My philosophy in life surrounding horrible anxiety-inducing events is "hope for the best but prepare for the worst." Hence why I've been reblogging stuff to help keep people safe.

However.

That doesn't mean I'm going down without a fucking fight. I will keep living. I will keep being myself, even if it means that the fascist government in place wants me dead. I will die with a smug, spiteful little smile on my face knowing I went out without sacrificing who I am.

To the LGBTQIA2S+ people who might see this post: Don't give up hope. Don't let them force you back into the closet. Don't let that fucking cheeto scare you into hiding. There are people like myself and like you who survived the sociopolitical timeframe these fuckers wanna push us all back to. We will survive.

This isn't the end for us. Not by a fucking long shot.

You just gotta keep fighting - keep being who you really are. That's fight enough.

To those people who voted independent/third party in the US this year: Get the fuck away from me and get the fuck off my blog. Do not try to justify your vote to me. I had my issues with Kamala, yes, but I still voted for her, because I knew that if I didn't, I would practically be signing my own death warrant, as well as the death warrants of those I care about. One day, you will realize that your "moral high ground" against Kamala meant nothing in the face of the consequences of your vote.

Trying to stop one genocide doesn't make you antisemitic. Doing what little you can to help prevent future genocides doesn't make you morally bankrupt.

And finally, to those who voted for the cheeto: I hope you're happy with the hell you've brought upon on not just the US, but the rest of the world too. You cannot kill an idea, and you cannot suppress the true nature of humanity. Hope will always be found somewhere, and you can't fucking take that from me.

[self-loving-vampire]

That medium post is highlighting just how fucked people get when they treat gender norms like a Serious Thing you must abide by. Like, what?

1- "A weak thing really wanting to be strong is pathetic" is the kind of thing that is like... who is even saying that?

The virtue of wanting to become stronger (be it for altruistic reasons or even just to master your art) no matter how pitiful your starting position is seems to be something that repeatedly comes up in fiction.

It's not just shonen training arcs to help you overcome someone who outclasses you in every way but also things the RPG journey of starting out at level 1 barely knowing your left from your right and becoming strong enough to kill god at the end.

In fact, this is what makes games like Gothic and Dark Souls so appealing. You start out so weak that everything obliterates you in one or two hits and you're pretty much just another doomed soul in a horrible situation, but if you persevere you can overcome anything.

Maybe stop thinking of strength or weakness as something inherent to gender rather than something you need to cultivate through training and experience? Sure there's geniuses like me who get a huge experience multiplier but that's not gendered either.

2- Boys 100% do cry. They often get beat up for it because they're not supposed to cry, but they still do it regardless of how things are "supposed" to be. Because humans are humans and extremely few people naturally fit the platonic ideal of what their gender is supposed to be at all times. Crying is not exclusively a "girl" thing, and it has nothing to do with weakness, bravery, or intelligence.

See, the thing is that the people who actually get good at video games are usually people who enjoy playing video games and do it on their own rather than just when they pick up something they have never done before in an effort to get validation while being anxious the whole time because they arbitrarily decided that video games are "boy things".

You're not just missing out on the confidence buff but also jumping into a mid-game area before finishing the tutorial. What did you think was going to happen?

"Fantasy story where a woman is doing cool stuff" is like... not even abnormal if you ever engage with anything outside the absolute most mainstream of media. Maybe it won't feel so shameful if you realize it has been done extremely well countless times before.

Also gendering romance seems like a mistake as well. Like, from the exact same story as the above image:

Yeah, it turns out stories can have both romance and women doing cool things and mature, non-sexist men will not necessarily hate either of those aspects.

I'm one of those people who got physical abuse to transition to mainly just threats by fighting back, and you know what that was actually like?

I never was even remotely as strong as big as my father was. I'm 170 cm and grew up malnourished (about 100-110 lbs before I left). I eventually also developed a major disability. Meanwhile he was huge and has literally killed people before. Most of those teens who fought back against their abusive dads? They probably were still physically weaker than said dads too.

But none of that matters, because you don't need to actually win, you just need to show your will to fight. You need to make it clear that there's going to be serious costs if they are violent towards you, and even children who haven't gone through puberty at all are capable of doing that if they give zero fucks.

Even an unarmed 10-year-old who was truly willing to do so is capable of causing lasting harm to an adult. I don't blame anyone for not trying something like that themselves since most people don't want to harm their parents and are averse to pain, but it's definitely dumb to make it into a gender thing that is just impossible without a specific type of puberty.

Also I should note that in a lot of cases this doesn't make the abuse stop entirely. It didn't in my case.

This is literally just applying that one comic to yourself.

Hope you're sitting down for the next bit:

Playing cool video games is the modern day equivalent of fighting war??? How does that even occur to you? Video games are literally entertainment. More like reading books or playing sports than killing people for real.

Also like, war still exists? That's kind of a big thing that is going on right now. War exists and people are fighting it. If this person grew up in the US then their country has been at war in some capacity for the vast majority of its existence. The modern day equivalent of war is war, and war is not actually cool or respectable like gaming is.

Putting up a bright billboard that reads "You know you don't have to be like that just because of your gender, right?"

Like, who cares if the other women you know personally only improve their skills for the sake of dress-up and horses? Do you not have things you want to do? I don't know what to say other than that this reads like NPC behavior.

Tip: You can be a man if you want, but also that probably won't give you instant competence or respect like you think it will. You're still going to have to Get Good at whatever it is you want to do.

So the kind of person who tries to fake an interest in "boy things" in a completely half-assed and insecure way actually exists and has terminal gender essentialist brain. I see.

I do think that's kind of shameful not just for the essentialist garbage but also in the sense that it reads like someone who is too invested in trying to insincerely impress others at the cost of their own individuality and pursuits.

If you're going to be taking right-wing types seriously then maybe you should at least notice that they also don't seem to respect tradwife types at all. They want to own them, sure, but they don't respect them. Attraction is not respect. Those people just don't respect women by default for reasons that are patently bullshit.

This is, from multiple angles, a personal problem. Some of us actually do like video games rather than using them as a way to get respect.

In fact, I'd hate it if people made a big deal out of the fact that I'm a woman who likes video games. That is and should be just a normal, unremarkable thing.

You know, maybe that whole thing where you see yourself as an eternal, inherent weakling not just physically but technically is unhealthy and holding you back from even considering that you could ever be good at anything besides child-rearing and clothes.

Good thing that she rarely feels like this anymore as an adult who is (according to the comments) no longer in a religious cult but this is like... putting my sexist father's thoughts in a self-loathing woman, basically?